Chapter 101 – Three Days of Silence · The Third Day

After the military incident in the central square and the announcement by the Senate the next day that the Crown Prince would be crowned immediately, the news of the old Emperor’s passing finally spread throughout the Empire.

The common folk didn’t feel much—the old Emperor had lived a life of neither great achievements nor failures, and in the hearts of the people, he was a somewhat indistinct symbol. As long as their lives remained as stable as before, it didn’t matter much to them who ruled the Empire.

The nobles, however, closed their doors and began calculating their futures. With the coronation ceremony imminent, the ministers’ workloads increased drastically, leaving them no time for other matters—except for the Minister of Finance, who had spent most of his life at odds with the extravagant old Emperor. This minister, known for his stinginess, had once been so angered by the old Emperor’s plan to build a canal at great expense that he hadn’t eaten for an entire day. Now, after approving the budget for the coronation ceremony, he picked up another document.

It was the budget for the old Emperor’s funeral.

“My colleagues are busy making appearances before the new master, and your son is busy with his coronation. Well, old friend, it seems I’m the only one in the entire Imperial Capital who truly grieves for you,” he muttered to himself. “You always mocked me for being stingy in private, but today I’ll be generous. You loved grand spectacles your whole life… you can’t miss out on the last one.”

The Minister of Finance, almost the same age as the old Emperor, unconsciously trembled as he added half again to the budget requested by the officials in charge of the funeral.

He carefully reviewed the treasury accounts and sighed, muttering to himself, “Now I’ve come to see things differently. The gold coins in the treasury are piled up like mountains. It’s hard to resist spending some.”

The old minister added another comment: “Your family, the Flaming Roses, have far too much money. It would take a decade of war to even begin to spend it all.”

The Minister of Finance had been right earlier—there were indeed very few left in the Imperial Capital who truly remembered the old Emperor. The preparation time for the coronation ceremony was too short, requiring a large number of people to be mobilized. Nobles and lords from various regions had rushed to the capital upon hearing the news—not only to attend the coronation but also to personally inform the new ruler of the Empire about the increasingly severe plague and the occasional divine miracles—events that now threatened the safety of everyone across the vast territories.

However, as the lords traveled closer to the capital, they discovered that even in areas near the Imperial Capital, people were beginning to show symptoms of the strange illness, with the weak on the brink of death. This realization sent a chill down their spines, as they understood that this might be an unprecedented disaster.

The Tidis residence was heavily guarded, with Mages providing personal protection for the Duke. However, they had voices but no physical forms, which made the Duke extremely uncomfortable.

In a room that was empty except for himself, he occasionally heard voices saying things like, “Our world has suddenly gained many people. We should inform the Magic Association—they’ll be thrilled,” “No, no, they don’t seem to recognize us. They’re under the Empire’s jurisdiction,” or “It’s incredible that Mages are living on the continent.” From the tone and content of the conversations, it seemed they were all lively young people.

After a while, a new topic emerged: “Have you noticed the change in elemental concentration?”

The group of young people fell silent for a moment, and their tone became less cheerful. “Yes, I think the Valley of Stone has also…”

“Is it only the Valley of Metal left?”

“But by then—”

“Every time an elemental valley extinguishes, the intensity of the storm increases several times. It wasn’t obvious before, but now, even here in the heart of the continent, we can feel it. By then, everyone will be doomed. Only by hiding in the large barriers of Siren Island or the Floating Sky Capital can we survive. And then the continent…”

“Our barrier can’t hold so many people from the continent. What will they do?”

“They must have their own methods. Look, today the two princes—princes, right? They’re still fighting over who will wear the crown.”

“But I don’t think they have any idea about this…”

The Duke felt he had overheard something extraordinary.

When the Mages’ conversation finally ended, they began to meditate, and no one spoke again. It wasn’t until evening that the effects of the invisibility potion gradually wore off, and the Mages’ forms became visible.

Daniel looked around and suddenly felt a sinking feeling in his heart. “Where’s Haitie?”

The Mages glanced around, suspecting that the potion’s effects hadn’t fully dissipated. They called out a few times, but no one answered.

Gregory looked at the red-haired girl before him. The bright robes of the Fire Mage made her look extremely charming, though her face was slightly pale.

“You’re here,” he said with a faint smile, though it lacked the elegance and politeness he had shown on Siren Island, instead carrying a careless air. “Why aren’t you with your Mage friends, gathered around the Duke?”

His tone and choice of words made Haitie feel slightly uncomfortable, but her previous impression of Gregory overshadowed this—she thought they had become quite good friends.

“I just had to protect my friend’s father. I don’t know why you’re fighting so fiercely, but it’s not something I can control,” the girl said, her sapphire eyes shimmering like fallen starlight. “I’m just worried about you—you’re working with the Goddess of Light. She’s not a benevolent goddess; she’s extremely dangerous. You don’t know this.”

Gregory was slightly taken aback.

To be honest, his interactions with this girl on Siren Island had been a simple way for him to understand his situation and gain various conveniences—though the kind and lively girl had indeed stirred a bit of affection in him.

Thus, his attitude had carried a hint of ambiguity, like a hunter spotting a snow-white deer.

He also knew that this was a Mage who knew nothing about the power struggles on the continent, so when Haitie appeared before him, he was prepared for her to be confused or even to question him—but he hadn’t expected a sincere and straightforward warning.

His surprise, however, lasted only a moment before he chuckled softly.

“Miss Haitie,” he said, looking into her clear eyes as if gazing at a naive little animal. “You seem to have some misunderstanding about me.”

The Mage girl frowned. “It’s true—Lin Wei said…”

A finger suddenly pressed gently against her full, beautiful lips. Startled, she met Gregory’s gaze, which was both gentle and teasing, and her cheeks flushed as if on fire.

“Let’s not talk about Lin Wei,” he said in the deep, attractive voice of a mature man, the kind that could easily steal a young girl’s heart.

“Since you’ve come all this way to find me, leaving your friends behind—how about becoming my Empress?”

Haitie was both unable to process the sudden shift in the conversation and momentarily stunned. “What…”

“Perhaps I shouldn’t call you Empress yet. After tomorrow morning, it will be Empress,” Gregory said, watching her reaction with interest. “You’ll be the mistress of the Imperial Palace, and all the roses and nightingales will belong to you, not to mention the silks and jewels.”

Though she was a Mage, she was a gentle and lovely one, with eyes as pure and sincere as an autumn sky—something no noble lady in the Imperial Capital possessed.

And the fact that he had won the affection of a Mage gave Gregory, who had always been hostile to that world, a secret sense of pleasure, though he himself hadn’t realized it.

Haitie stared blankly into those dark eyes and suddenly felt a deep, instinctive fear.

She took a few steps back, her lips pursed unnaturally. She neither nodded nor shook her head.

Gregory smiled slightly, his gaze sweeping over the two High Mages standing nearby. His tone was commanding: “Take Miss Haitie to rest.”

Haitie’s strength hadn’t improved much in the past few dozen days. She had only just touched the threshold of the High Mage level and was no match for two High Mages.

After she was “taken to rest,” Sars Angel met with Gregory.

“The preparations for the coronation are complete.”

Gregory’s expression showed little emotion, though it was slightly more serious.

“You said before that this was going too smoothly…” Sars observed his expression.

“We must crown me as soon as possible,” Gregory said. “The commoners, the great nobles, and the lords are all here. Bolan and Tidis won’t resort to force during the ceremony.”

The same words were spoken by the other prince.

“I won’t seize power directly during the coronation ceremony,” Bolan said, gazing at the burning sunset in the distance. The afterglow cast the shadows of the trees outside the window, adding a bright gold-red to the green foliage.

“Then when will you act?”

“If everything goes smoothly, I won’t need to do it,” Bolan said, his emerald eyes like deep pools. “If it doesn’t go smoothly, I’ll have a legitimate reason to do so.”

He suddenly changed the subject, asking the Mage beside him, “If your world faced a great disaster—but you alone could save it by sacrificing your life, would you choose to do it?”

The Mage’s tone showed no hesitation. “Yes.”

Bolan looked at him, his eyes filled with curiosity. “Why?”

“In my world, everyone would do the same,” Duan Yu replied.

“A world worth aspiring to…” Bolan murmured. “But it’s hard for us to willingly do such a thing. The first thing we’d ask is—why me?”

The Mage said, “If this task must be completed by a specific person, then that person must have something special about them. Why would they need to ask?”

“It’s a subconscious reaction. After realizing their specialness, they’ll turn to resentment—why is it me who’s special?”

The Mage shook his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t understand that.”

Bolan smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I can understand your lack of understanding.”

The prince changed the subject, as if making small talk. “Will you attend the coronation ceremony?”

“No, I’ll leave tomorrow morning. Other Mages will protect you and the Duke,” Duan Yu replied.

“Are they capable? Gregory also has a Mage Corps,” Bolan said, having experienced the Goddess’s attack, he was slightly concerned for his safety.

“They can handle the Mage Corps,” Duan Yu said calmly. “By then, the Goddess will be too busy to focus here.”

“Are you going to act against her?” Bolan asked, his keen intuition picking up on this.

The evening breeze carried a slight chill, causing Bolan to cough lightly. He closed the window and said, puzzled, “I feel a bit of pain on my skin—I’ve never had this kind of ailment before.”

Just as he was about to call for a physician, he felt a faint ripple in the air before him, and the pain disappeared.

“How about now?” Duan Yu asked.

“It’s gone,” Bolan said, looking at him. “Did you use magic? So this is…”

“The last elemental valley is beginning to extinguish,” Duan Yu said, his lashes lowering slightly, his expression unreadable.

“So the full elemental storm is about to begin… how long until it becomes severe enough to threaten the Imperial Capital?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

Bolan’s fingertips tapped lightly on the windowsill. “Perfect timing.”

The streets of the Imperial Capital gradually quieted as the night deepened, with the usual sound of patrol horses’ hooves passing by. One cavalryman twisted his neck uncomfortably—he felt some pain in his body, but due to the strict discipline of the unit, he didn’t complain to his comrades. As they passed a residence, he frowned upon hearing a voice through the window: “Damn it, Sia, my skin hurts all over!”

The morning in the Floating Sky Capital was exceptionally beautiful, with the dawn light veiled in a thin mist. When the cloud-like fog dispersed, a glorious sunrise would emerge. At the end of the street, the silhouette of the Great Tree Inn could be vaguely seen, its intertwined vines and branches resembling a dance.

Lin Wei sat outside the old man’s shop—on what appeared to be the gray-cloaked old man’s usual lounge chair, though the young Duke’s posture was relatively upright. He held a Book of Contracts in his hands, occasionally glancing up, though it wasn’t clear what he was looking at.

The old man’s voice came from inside the shop: “You pesky youngster, stealing an old man’s chair—”

Lin Wei didn’t look up. “You can sleep a bit longer!”

The old man chuckled.

At that moment, a tall figure appeared in the misty street.

Lin Wei snapped the book shut and walked over to the newcomer.

“I was just thinking you might not find your way here—”

Duan Yu ruffled his hair—slightly damp from the mist. “Have you been waiting long?”

“I was kicked out after waking up—but I brought out his chair,” Lin Wei said, his eyes also seeming damp from the mist. “I didn’t sleep well. How’s the Imperial Capital?”

“Gregory is being crowned today. Bolan seems quite confident.”

“He actually gave Gregory the chance to be crowned… but he must have a good reason. Bolan is always cautious.”

“The Goddess of Light can now use physical attacks. She targeted Bolan.”

“I assume you protected Bolan. We’ll meet the Goddess today. Adrishig is also here.”

Duan Yu asked, “What have you been doing these past two days?”

“A lot of things, and I’ve been running around quite a bit,” Lin Wei said mysteriously, lowering his voice. “Come closer, I’ll tell you quietly so the old man doesn’t hear.”

Duan Yu took him seriously, thinking he had done something secret.

—But as soon as he got close, Lin Wei wrapped his arms tightly around his neck.

Unfortunately, after a short while, Lin Wei lost the upper hand and was pressed against the wall, much to his frustration—he always ended up weak and pliant after being kissed.

He struggled a bit but to no avail, so he obediently closed his eyes.