Chapter 94 – Discovered

The safe return of the eldest son had somewhat lightened the heavy thoughts of the old Emperor, and his condition had also improved.

Tonight, he finally felt a bit of energy.

“Isis, help me up.”

The Empress assisted the old Emperor to sit up against the soft cushions by the head of the bed: “The court physicians say your condition is improving… How do you feel?”

The old Emperor’s cloudy gaze fell on his wife’s slightly haggard face, and he nodded slowly: “Better.”

The understanding Empress noticed his gaze shifting to a stack of neatly arranged papers on the bedside table and immediately picked them up, handing them to the old Emperor.

“Bolan, my son… he’s done well,” the old Emperor said as he looked at the clear, concise, and well-organized contents, nodding.

—During his illness, Bolan, who had been acting on behalf of the Emperor, had meticulously recorded and summarized important imperial affairs every day, including the attitudes of the Aristocratic Council and the High Council toward these matters and the decisions he had ultimately made.

However, as the old Emperor began to read the contents, his brow furrowed.

The reason for his frown was not dissatisfaction with his second son’s decisions but the nature of the events that had occurred over the past few days.

“The Morvia Port north of the Meliksand Canal is frozen… The Royal Second Fleet is stranded, and the transportation of northern minerals and timber is blocked.”

“The storm season in the Siren Sea continues, affecting the eastern coastline. All naval ships have returned to port, fishermen have come ashore, and there are shortages in supplies.”

The Empress listened as the old Emperor read out in a low voice. She was not a woman well-versed in political affairs, but over the years, she had learned a great deal—at least enough to have a grasp of the bigger picture. She didn’t see anything particularly alarming. The Empire was at the height of its power, with a solid foundation. She couldn’t imagine anything that could shake this mighty beast. Even if occasional natural disasters or man-made calamities occurred, there was a well-established system to handle them. Crises were like insignificant ripples on a vast river, quickly calming and disappearing.

The old Emperor continued to read a few more reports about blizzards in the north and signs of drought in the south. It seemed that during this period, while the Imperial Capital itself had remained stable, the regions outside were not as peaceful.

The Empress’s heart finally sank, as this was indeed a time of frequent disasters.

“The situation is truly not good. The Minister of Finance and the local governors are all very busy,” the old Emperor shook his head. “But it is still under control, though the treasury will have to spend a significant amount.”

After saying this, he coughed a few times, apparently feeling somewhat tired, and handed the records back to the Empress: “Isis, read them to me.”

The Empress began to read—the next two pages finally contained some good news, such as the successful celebration of the Seven-Day Festival across the regions and the southern nobles presenting a large number of precious local products.

At this moment, a court servant brought in today’s records—since Prince Bolan had to host the evening banquet, this report was slightly delayed.

“Massive outbreaks of a strange illness have occurred in the eastern coastline, the area north of Morvia Port, and the southern Yali Mountain Range—people stranded outside experience skin irritation and bleeding, which then develops into full-body pain. Dozens have already died.”

Upon hearing this, the old Emperor’s expression finally turned grave: “A plague?”

“Apparently not, Your Majesty,” the Empress scanned the following contents and continued, “According to the governors’ reports, almost everyone in the affected areas has shown these symptoms, and the severity varies significantly by region. The closer to the central regions, the milder the symptoms. It is suspected to be related to water or climate issues. The Imperial Capital has dispatched scholars and physicians…”

“No,” the old Emperor interrupted, “The areas affected by the strange illness coincide with the locations of those disasters?”

The Empress flipped through the previous records and suddenly felt a chill run down her spine: “Yes, Your Majesty.”

The palace fell silent for a long time before the old Emperor spoke again: “Is there more?”

The Empress turned a page: “In the severely affected areas of the illness, there have been several unusual phenomena—the sunlight suddenly became extremely intense, and in the areas it covered, the pain was greatly alleviated. People have called it a ‘miracle.’ This belief has spread widely in the affected regions, though its authenticity has yet to be confirmed.”

The old Emperor frowned, seemingly lost in thought. He repeated the word “miracle” several times under his breath, then suddenly said: “Tidis, the eldest son who returned from the Magic World—I must see him immediately.”

After saying this, he took a deep breath but suddenly started coughing again. This time, the coughing was severe, and it took him a long time to calm down. The court physician, who had been waiting outside, immediately came in, examined him, and said to the Empress: “The dosage of the medicine cannot be increased any further. His Majesty must rest—he cannot overexert himself until he has fully recovered.”

“Your Majesty, it is already late at night,” the Empress, more concerned about the old Emperor’s health than the affairs of the state, helped him lie down and said, “You need to rest. It is not too late to meet with him tomorrow.”

The old Emperor took a few difficult breaths and nodded: “Tomorrow morning, no later.”

Meanwhile, Gregory’s residence was also brightly lit. After the evening banquet, many nobles and officials from the Crown Prince’s faction did not return home but gathered here, staying until late at night before dispersing.

“The situation is roughly as we expected,” said Sars Angel, Gregory’s only trusted confidant at the moment.

Sars Angel, a noble from the south, understood the temperament of the man he served. Unlike others in the Crown Prince’s circle who tread carefully, fearing to lose his trust, Sars interacted with Gregory more freely.

He knew his unique position—he had been personally promoted and groomed by Gregory, and his family did not possess excessive power, which meant he was not a threat.

“Prince Bolan is currently at the height of his popularity in the Imperial Capital. Even the common people are singing his praises,” he observed Gregory: “What about us?”

“He has already won our father’s affection,” Gregory said gravely, “We cannot place our hopes on our father’s wavering sentiments.”

“But Bolan also commands considerable influence, as you know… especially Lavis and Tidis—the only hereditary nobles still on our side are Berlinar and Ferdinand.”

“Sars, listen,” Gregory suddenly smiled—a cold, chilling smile: “The succession to the throne is first determined by the Emperor’s decree, then by the ‘Tituya Codex,’ and finally by the opinions of the Aristocratic Council and the High Council.”

“Among these, the ‘Codex’ is the most reliable,” Sars keenly grasped the implication in Gregory’s words. No matter what, Gregory, as the eldest son, was the undisputed first in line for succession.

He continued: “The senators are stubborn and rigid. They will defend the dignity of the ‘Codex’ to the death. In the history of the Empire, it is not unheard of for an Emperor to leave no testament… Heh!”

Sars’s voice gradually lowered, disappearing into a meaningful tone.

“But what is most unfavorable for us is the possibility of Tidis resorting to force.”

At this point, the conversation entered a difficult impasse—the schemes among the nobles and the Imperial Family were still within a manageable and controllable range, but the existence of the martial aristocracy was a different matter.

There was also the grim reality—though Gregory had never fully trusted the Tidis family before, he had relied on their military strength and had not specifically developed his own forces in that area. Now, not only did he have little influence over the Royal Knight Order, but even the Imperial Defense Department was largely out of his control!

Sars finally realized that their chances were likely slim.

But he had no other choice—he could only follow Gregory, this ruthless prince who might still seize a slim opportunity.

By the time Sars Angel also bid farewell and left, it was nearly midnight.

Gregory extinguished the lights, plunging himself into darkness. He pulled open the curtains and looked down from the window, gazing over the entire East District.

He knew the severity of the situation he faced, and he had formed his own plan—but he could not guarantee its success.

His gaze was steady, and he stood there for a long time.

The room suddenly lit up.

Gregory quickly turned around, searching for the source of the light.

On the candlestick, what burned was not the flame of a candle, but a cluster of light—a cluster of light without any physical support.

A cluster, a mass, or a beam—no word could accurately describe the form of that light.

“Gregory.”

A woman’s voice rang out in his mind, ethereal, with an ancient hoarseness and a sense of distance.

He stared at the cluster of light: “Who are you?”

The voice did not answer him but continued on its own: “I can help you.”

Gregory’s eyes narrowed dangerously, like a wolf in the snowy plains: “Are you a Mage?”

His time on Siren Island had taught him much. He knew that among Mages, there were those who wielded light magic—a female Mage named Tiki lived next door, and the way she manipulated light was similar to what he was seeing now.

The voice seemed to chuckle: “I am not a Mage.”

“I have long transcended magic.”

The palace was solemn, the Crown Prince’s residence was tense, and the Tidis household was filled with a peculiar atmosphere.

The Duke had met the guests from the Magic World. He did not position himself as a man of the continent but, like any responsible father, spoke with them as friends of his son. After instructing the servants to escort the Mages to the guest rooms, he kept Lin Wei behind.

Lin Wei did not want to stay. In fact, he was busy plotting a route from his room to the guest quarters, and after finishing his planning, he recalled a kiss he had stolen on the carriage—a long and gentle one.

Having already gained a general understanding of the situation through his correspondence with Lin Wei, the Duke did not prolong the discussion about the current state of affairs and quickly changed the topic.

“Come here,” the Duke said, looking at his eldest son.

Lin Wei obediently moved closer.

The Duke scrutinized him.

Lin Wei had no idea what his father was looking for and could only stare back expressionlessly.

“The situation is very tense. That Magic World of yours seems to be facing significant problems,” the Duke leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping the table intermittently, his gaze still fixed on Lin Wei: “But you don’t seem as burdened as I imagined.”

Lin Wei still didn’t understand what the Duke was getting at.

“That red-haired female Mage?”

Lin Wei’s heart skipped a beat, sensing that this line of inquiry was heading in an awkward direction.

“No,” the Duke pondered for a moment: “She doesn’t seem like the type you’d be interested in.”

Lin Wei: “…”

He organized his words: “I haven’t…”

“Young man in love, don’t think you can hide it from your father, especially the father who has raised you since childhood,” the Duke said: “Back when I returned from the campaign… of course, it was the time I met your mother—as soon as I entered the mansion, your grandfather knew that the Tidis family would soon be holding a wedding.”

Lin Wei met the Duke’s scrutinizing gaze and felt a pang of guilt.

The Duke misinterpreted his expression and softened his tone slightly: “You don’t need to worry—we won’t oppose this because of the Magic World.”

Lin Wei remained silent.

The Duke continued: “But at the very least, you should bring her back for your mother to meet. She would be very happy. After all, it’s not a matter of pride among the ladies for a son of your age to still be without a betrothal.”

Lin Wei despaired at the realization that he could not avoid this topic.

He tried to deflect: “Yes, Father.”

The Duke smiled faintly.