The Steam Age: Gears and Bones

Chapter 78

Despite never having met them, based on the basic intelligence gathered by the Elector and Ludwig before she arrived, Perfitt roughly determined the possible identities of these four individuals.

The archbishop goes without saying; the old general in the imperial uniform must be Elector Rosenthal, in charge of the eastern defense of the empire.

The middle-aged civil official in the dark green court robes was likely Elector Stein, who was in charge of the empire's finances and domestic affairs.

The young nobleman, who sat upright and had a lean physique, was someone that Perfit recalled Ludwig had briefly introduced to her in the carriage—he was Maximilian von Falk, the youngest Elector of the Empire. He had only inherited the title three years ago, but he had already won a lot of influence in the council from many old-school military nobles thanks to his family’s deep roots in the Imperial cavalry.

As she walked in, four pairs of eyes fell on her at the same time.

Those gazes held scrutiny, curiosity, cautious reserve, and undisguised observation. No one spoke, but the air in the entire hall seemed to tighten slightly for a moment upon her arrival.

A seventeen-year-old Victorian noblewoman, wearing a woolen coat that had been worn repeatedly during her travels and was somewhat faded, leaned on a seemingly unremarkable alchemical cane and carried an inconspicuous suitcase in her other hand. She was not accompanied by any diplomats or any formal diplomatic documents—only the son of the Elector of Romulus and a Victorian magistrate stood behind her.

But she walked in without the slightest hesitation, her eyes sweeping over the faces of the electors without the slightest fear.

"Your Majesty, Your Excellencies," Perfit stopped before the throne, bowed slightly, and then straightened up. His voice, though not loud, was clear enough. "I am Perfit Brandlis, Chief Scientific Advisor of the Victorian Empire's Crisis Response Team. I have been directly appointed by Princess Anne of the Victorian Empire to represent the Crisis Response Team in discussing an alliance with Romulus."

She paused, rested her cane on the ground, and then uttered the words she had never spoken publicly in any setting since her arrival: "I witnessed the source of this disaster firsthand beneath the ruins of a hospital in the Predelshinsk district. It was an enemy that no human being could face alone."

As soon as Perfitt finished speaking, the young emperor leaned forward slightly from his throne.

His fingers stopped tapping the armrest, but instead gripped the gilded beast head on it tightly, his knuckles turning slightly white from the force.

He looked only a few years older than Ludwig, and had probably been on the throne for only a few years. His dark eyes held the majesty befitting a monarch, but more than that, they held a suppressed restlessness—not impatience with Perfit, but frustration with the whole affair.

From the day the Frans border was breached, urgent battle reports poured into the palace like snowflakes, each describing the same thing in different words: infected people were pouring into the empire, and the defenses could not hold.

But none of the battle reports told him what those things actually were.

"Miss Brandlis," the Emperor began, his voice younger and more direct than Perfitt had anticipated, "My generals told me to mobilize troops, my treasurer told me to raise funds, and my archbishop told me to pray."

But the messenger from Wild Boar Ridge told me something else—Elector Oberstan's letter said that only you here know what to do next.

So tell me, what exactly are we facing?

The four electors reacted differently.

The elderly general in the imperial uniform merely tightened his hands slightly, which were folded on his knees. His face was expressionless, like a stone statue weathered by time yet still steadfast.

The middle-aged civil official in the dark green court robe lowered his eyes, and the deep nasolabial folds at the corners of his mouth did not tremble even slightly—he was listening, but he was also waiting, waiting for Perfit to say something that would be worthy of his judgment before expressing his opinion.

The young Elector, who had been sitting upright and watching Perfit since she entered, leaned forward slightly. The cuffs of his dark blue court robes brushed against the armrests, making a very faint rustling sound. He clearly had an undisguised interest in what was about to happen.

The archbishop remained seated upright, but slowly raised his hands, which bore the rings of authority, from his knees and clasped them together in front of his chest, as if preparing to pray for whatever he was about to hear.

Perfit observed the reactions of the four individuals, but she did not take the time to analyze their political stances one by one.

She had no time to waste on courtly observation and interpretation.

She simply turned her head slightly and said something to Ludwig beside her. Her voice wasn't loud, but it was loud enough for everyone present to hear clearly in the quiet council hall.

"Major, bring in the iron cage. Let His Majesty the Emperor and the Electors see for themselves what the enemy they are still hesitating to fight with all their might really look like."

As four gray-armored knights carried the iron cage in with iron bars, and the Imperial Guards closed the heavy council hall doors again, the hoarse roars of the infected inside, tearing at each other in the darkness, along with the pungent stench of the cage itself, permeated the entire council hall.

The emperor subconsciously leaned back, then immediately realized that this movement was undignified, and straightened his back again, but his jawline was even more taut than before.

The elderly general finally frowned slightly.

The civil official took out a silk handkerchief and covered his mouth and nose.

Elector Falk was the only one whose eyes lit up when he saw the iron cage—not out of fear, but with the keen insight of an experienced hunter seeing new prey.

The archbishop simply bowed his head and silently recited the prayer. After a few sentences, he raised his head again, his old eyes, etched with the marks of time, still calm and steady.

Perfit walked to the iron cage and tapped the bars twice with his cane, signaling the guards to open the bolt on the side of the cage.

The Imperial Guard soldiers immediately raised their flintlock muskets and aimed them at the exit of the iron cage.

Ludwig had already drawn his sword and stood beside Perfit, while the gray-armored knights formed a defensive line in front of the emperor's throne.

An infected creature burst through the door, its target not being Perfit, but the nearest Imperial Guard soldier.

A volley of flintlock rifles fired, the lead bullets striking the infected, blasting several large holes in its chest and abdomen, spewing black blood and foam. It only staggered back a step before lunging forward again, its legs sliding on the smooth marble floor, its bitten toes leaving black streaks of blood on the ground. The stench mixed with the gunpowder smoke became even stronger.