Reborn with A Simulation Coin!

Harry let out a quiet sigh, his lips tightening in mild frustration. 'What are you doing, Thorn?' he thought.

The Earl's approach was all wrong. If he truly wanted cooperation, he should have negotiated with these lords privately, offering incentives and promises in return for their support. This public confrontation, with no tact or diplomacy, was only fueling resentment.

Harry's sharp mind quickly pieced together the motivations of the other lords present. They weren't here because they cared about the plague or its victims. To them, it was a distant threat; something that affected peasants, not the high and mighty. As long as their strongholds and knights remained intact, they believed the plague couldn't touch them.

'Why should they risk their lives for the sake of commoners?' Harry thought. 'In their eyes, peasants are replaceable. If a village dies out, there will always be refugees eager to fill the void. Their power lies in their land, not the people.'

Henry's defiance, then, wasn't just a personal vendetta against Thorn. It was a reflection of the collective arrogance of the lords present. And yet, Thorn had called this meeting knowing full well the dynamic at play.

'So what's his game?' Harry wondered, his sharp gaze shifting between Thorn and Sean.

The Earl's next words only deepened his suspicions.

"This isn't about you, Henry," Thorn snapped, his voice trembling with barely contained fury. "This is about the survival of our lands, our people, and our legacy! If you can't see that, then perhaps you don't deserve your position!"

The room went silent. The tension was thick enough to cut with a blade.

Henry straightened, his expression darkening. "Careful, Thorn," he growled. "I've tolerated your arrogance for years, but don't think for a second you can threaten me."

Thorn stepped back, his chest heaving as he struggled to maintain his composure. He glanced at Sean, as if seeking support, but the wizard remained still, his cold gaze fixed on the arguing lords.

Harry's eyes narrowed. 'Thorn is deliberately pushing him.'

It was becoming clear now. Thorn wasn't trying to rally the lords, he was trying to provoke them. And Sean… Sean was the key to whatever came next.

Harry's sharp instincts screamed that something dangerous was about to unfold. He straightened in his chair, his hand subtly resting on the hilt of his sword beneath the table.

On the platform, Sean finally spoke, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

"Enough."

The single word carried a weight that silenced even Henry. The wizard's pale face was expressionless, but his tone was laced with quiet authority.

"You're wasting time with petty squabbles," Sean said, his gaze sweeping across the room. "You think the plague is someone else's problem. You think your power and wealth will shield you from what's coming. You're wrong."

He turned his eyes to Henry, his cold gaze boring into the man. "And you," he said, his voice lowering, "may not take me seriously now, but you will. Soon enough."

Henry bristled, his hand twitching toward his weapon. "Is that a threat?"

"It's a fact," Sean replied calmly. He raised one pale hand, and for a brief moment, the lights in the room dimmed unnaturally, a cold chill washing over the hall.

The lords exchanged uneasy glances, the earlier defiance replaced by a growing sense of unease. Even Henry hesitated, his expression darkening but his hand falling away from his weapon.

Sean lowered his hand, the unnatural chill dissipating as quickly as it had come. "Cooperate, or don't," he said flatly. "But don't mistake my patience for weakness."

It was clear that the lords gathered in the hall were targeting Earl Thorn, but he, rather cleverly, continued framing the situation as if they were opposing Wizard Sean. The shift in blame was subtle but deliberate. It was almost as if Thorn wanted the animosity redirected toward the wizard, rather than himself.

Harry couldn't help but feel suspicious. 'What is Thorn trying to do here?'

The room had gone deathly silent.

The lords exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of disdain and disinterest. None of them responded to Earl Thorn's repeated demands for obedience. Instead, they simply watched him in stony silence. It was a defiance not openly spoken, but undeniably present in their collective inaction.

Thorn, however, showed no visible reaction. He simply sat there, calm and calculating, as if observing a chessboard where all the pieces were moving exactly as he anticipated.

Sean, on the other hand, was less composed.

Standing to the side, the wizard's pale face remained cold, but Harry noticed the subtle tension in his clenched fists. His sharp eyes carried a faint flicker of something far more dangerous: anger. No, not just anger; murderous intent.

'Is he going to lash out?' Harry wondered, his instincts sharpening. The tension in the air was suffocating, the entire room teetering on the brink of confrontation.

And then, cutting through the silence like a blade, a voice broke the awkward stalemate.

"Your Excellency is absolutely right."

All eyes turned to Harry.

He rose smoothly from his chair, his tone calm but his words carrying weight. "Solving this plague is not just important, it is 'critical'. If we fail to act, the consequences will affect all of us."

He turned his gaze toward Sean, his expression one of sincere respect. "Lord Sean, you have my full support. As the ruler of Harry Territory, I pledge all my resources to your efforts. Say the word, and my forces are yours to command. There will be no hesitation, no excuses."

Harry bowed slightly, a gesture of deference that caught everyone's attention. He wasn't groveling, it was measured, calculated, and deliberate.

The room shifted. Harry had taken the initiative, stepping forward as the first to publicly offer his allegiance.

And not a moment too soon.

Harry had been watching closely, reading the room. He'd seen the subtle movements of a few other lords, hesitations, glances exchanged, the faint shifts of people preparing to speak. It was clear others shared his strategy: to rise in Sean's defense at this critical moment, to win favor with the wizard while he was being humiliated.

But Harry knew something these lords hadn't considered. Timing was everything. To be the first to step forward was to leave the strongest impression. To wait until others spoke was to blend into the background.

Sure enough, as soon as Harry finished speaking, the ripple effect began.

Two other lords quickly stood.

"We, too, are willing to follow Lord Sean's orders," declared Sanger, a stern man with a reputation for pragmatism.

"And my forces are at your disposal," added Gepa, his tone measured but firm.

The shift in the room's energy was palpable. With Harry leading the way, the others had found the courage to follow.

Sean's expression softened, the faint tension leaving his face. His clenched fists relaxed, and for the first time since the confrontation began, there was a flicker of relief and perhaps even respect, in his gaze.

"Good," Sean said, his voice cold but steady. "It's about time someone understood the gravity of the situation. Those of you who have pledged your support, you will not regret it."

Earl Thorn, sensing the tide had turned, stood once again with a pleased smile. "Harry, Sanger, Gepa, you have my gratitude. Your wisdom and courage will not go unnoticed. During the next phase, you will work closely with Mr. Sean to prepare for what's to come."

Thorn then turned to Baron Henry, his voice hardening. "As for you, Baron Henry… I am 'deeply' disappointed. Your arrogance blinds you to the greater danger we all face. I expected better."

Henry's face twisted in anger, but he didn't respond. The tension between the two men was thick, and it was clear this was far from over.

The banquet ended on a sour note, with the room divided. Thorn's supporters, including Harry, stood aligned with Sean, while the other lords; led by Henry, left in cold defiance.

Harry stayed quiet during the dispersal, his mind busy as he observed the fractured alliances forming around him. 'Sean has power,' he thought. 'Thorn knows it, and so do the rest of us. But the question is, who will benefit most from it?'

---

Later that evening, Sean walked alone through one of the manor's corridors, his dark robes trailing behind him like a shadow. The tension from earlier had left him visibly drained. He rubbed his temples, trying to push the frustrations of the night out of his mind.

"Mr. Sean!"

The voice came from behind him.

He stopped, glancing over his shoulder to see Harry approaching. The young baron's steps were steady, his expression calm but carrying a hint of purpose.

"Baron Harry," Sean said, his voice neutral. "What do you need?"

Harry stopped a few paces away, folding his hands behind his back. "I wanted to thank you," he said sincerely. "For stepping forward to help with this crisis. It's clear you've taken on a great burden, one that most of us couldn't even begin to comprehend."

Sean studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Is that so?"

"It is," Harry said firmly. He paused, then added, "And I want you to know that my earlier pledge wasn't just for show. I meant every word. Whatever you need; supplies, manpower, information, consider it yours."

Sean's cold demeanor softened slightly, though his guard remained up. "You seem more… cooperative than most of the lords here," he said.

Harry smiled faintly. "I'm pragmatic, Mr. Sean. I know power when I see it, and I know how to align myself with it. You're the key to solving this plague, and I'd be a fool not to support you."

Sean tilted his head, as if considering Harry's words. "You're sharp," he said finally. "And sharp men can be dangerous."

"Only to those who stand in their way," Harry replied smoothly, his eyes glinting.

Sean allowed himself a faint smile, the tension in his shoulders easing. "We'll see, Baron Harry. We'll see."