NOVEL NEXT Chapter 148: Whose Subordinate Is This Lynn?!
Chapter 148: Whose Subordinate Is This Lynn?!
“Your Highness, this return to Glostein may not go as smoothly as you anticipate.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
“The events that transpired in the Soren Mountains remain a lingering threat.”
“You’re referring to… the matter of you being possessed by two demons?”
“Precisely. A human—especially one stripped of the Divine Factor and cast aside by the Church—is particularly susceptible to corruption and depravity by demons. Upon our return to the capital, there will inevitably be those who exploit this against us.”
“Then how should we respond?”
“There are two options.”
“And they are?”
“The first is to consider, when necessary, the option of… ‘abandoning me’...”“So you can gleefully run off, return to ten thousand years from now, and gallivant with that wretched woman?! Are you trying to infuriate me to death?!”
“Ow—ow! Your Highness, stop biting me! I haven’t even told you the second option yet.”
“Speak.”
“If people are determined to use this against you, why not turn the tables? Rather than leaving this ‘bomb’ in their hands, we could detonate it ourselves and let them taste the aftermath of their own schemes.”
“What’s your plan?”
“Once we reach the capital, we’ll split up. You’ll attend the commendation ceremony at the council hall with the others, while I stir up some trouble—big trouble, preferably something that forces its way to His Majesty.”
“At that point, those vultures won’t miss the opportunity to sink their teeth into me.”
“Are you confident?”
“Of course. Especially since we have the Witch’s assistance—ah! Your Highness!”
“From now on, you’re forbidden from referring to that vile woman in such a manner in my presence!”
“Your Highness?”
A sudden call brought Yveste out of her reverie.
She instinctively raised the champagne flute in her hand, sipping lightly to mask the subtle smile tugging at her lips.
At the same time, her crimson eyes flicked upward, landing on Afia standing before her.
“What is it?” Yveste asked coolly.
It was evident that Yveste’s mood was still relatively good. Despite being in a venue she found thoroughly detestable, she had little to complain about.
The banquet had begun.
The council hall bustled with movement as guests streamed in. On the stage, musicians performed a delightful melody, filling the air with graceful tunes.
Nearby, long dining tables draped with intricately patterned cloths bore silver candelabras, steaks, desserts, fruits, and various cold dishes for guests to enjoy.
Excluding the servants, more than two hundred distinguished guests had already gathered.
Everyone in attendance was either a noble of considerable renown in Glostein or a member of the imperial family.
Even luminaries such as the First Princess Shirina, the Second Prince Felit, the Sixth Prince, and the Ninth Princess had all made their presence known, surrounded by clusters of conversational admirers.
The grandeur of the event could not be overstated.
The entire council hall exuded opulence. The grand chandelier above cast warm golden light, while the gilded patterns on the floor’s tiles reflected luxury in every detail.
At the center of the hall stood a towering brass statue several meters high, depicting a regal and imposing man crowned with a holy diadem. Astride a rearing horse, his figure radiated nobility and strength.
This was a memorial to Saint Roland I, the founder of the Saint Roland Empire.
Every time the hall’s frequenters—nobles and politicians—passed the statue, they would recall the empire’s glorious past.
At the moment, Yveste was surrounded by subordinates from the Augusta Estate.
Despite their number, they were subjected to the subtle disdainful and scrutinizing gazes of many Glostein nobles.
To the capital’s aristocracy, these guests were nothing more than country bumpkins from the frontier. That they were permitted entry to such a ceremony was already a testament to imperial grace.
Afia, clad in a western-style gown, seemed ill at ease under such judgmental gazes. Lowering her voice, she informed Yveste, “I’ve just heard that the sequence for the commendation ceremony has been altered. Originally, Captain Xiya and their group were scheduled after us, but now they’ve been moved ahead.”
Anger flickered briefly in the eyes of Yveste’s subordinates.
The effort of handling the Level 0 Sealed Artifact incident and slaying a Fifth-Rank Legendary Archdemon was incomparably greater than whatever trivial achievements Xiya’s group had accomplished.
Yet not only had Lynn’s rightful glory been erased, but their own honors were also being deliberately undermined.
It was... utterly despicable!
Yveste’s crimson gaze lifted slowly.
On the raised platform beneath the brass statue stood a middle-aged man with a commanding presence. Crowned and holding a scepter, his body radiated a faint golden glow, inspiring awe and reverence akin to witnessing a divine miracle.
This was the most supreme authority in the empire—Saint Roland VI, Emperor Calderon.
Behind him stood a small entourage of high-ranking individuals.
Though few in number, any one of them wielded influence enough to shake the empire—a gathering of giants among giants.
One among them, an elderly man in a crimson ecclesiastical robe adorned with intricate golden embroidery and encrusted with jewels, exuded both magnificence and sanctity.
Noticing Yveste’s gaze, the man offered her a kind smile and nodded in greeting.
“...”
Yveste’s expression remained indifferent, her eyes flickering with a trace of cold disdain.
The sudden change in the ceremony’s sequence was undoubtedly the work of this old fox.
She knew him well.
Beneath his outward kindness lay a cunning and detestable figure.
This man was none other than Connor Gregory, a Cardinal of the Divine Order Church and one of the empire’s seven Elector Counts.
In her youth, he had prophesied that Yveste would bring calamity to the world, indirectly contributing to the Bartleon family’s downfall and the removal of Lynn’s Divine Factor.
The enmity between Yveste’s faction and this man was irreconcilable—it was a vendetta to the death.
“Stay calm for now,” Yveste said softly after a moment of silence.
Recalling her arrangement with Lynn, she chose restraint, opting to wait and observe.
Moreover, forcing the teleportation array for Lynn’s sake had drained her energy, leaving her temporarily weakened. It wasn’t the right time for drastic action.
Though frustrated, her subordinates dared not protest further, choosing instead to sip their wine in sullen silence.
This discordant scene, so out of place amid the lively festivities, only invited further amusement from the surrounding nobles and members of the imperial family.
At that moment, Saint Roland VI stood on the platform, addressing the audience, his deep voice reverberating throughout the opulent hall.
“…And now, I will personally bestow the medals of valor upon the empire’s warriors—a testament to your blood-soaked glory!”
The emperor raised the holy scepter in his hand and gently tapped it against the ground.
With the sound, an invisible ripple spread across the hall, resonating within the hearts of all present.
The commendation ceremony had officially begun!
Or so everyone thought.
Suddenly, a figure hurried onto the stage from the side.
It was one of the emperor’s court counts, his expression grave as he leaned in to whisper urgently into Emperor Calderon’s ear.
As the great emperor listened, the solemn majesty etched upon his face transformed into a thunderous rage.
“This is… outrageous!”
“Inform Edlin to lead the Silverwing Knights to handle this matter immediately! Ensure that audacious scoundrel is brought—not slain—directly to the council hall. I will question him personally!”
The court count bowed, accepted the order, and left swiftly.
Saint Roland VI’s anger did not abate.
Moments later, the emperor spoke again, this time addressing the entire assembly.
“This Lynn Bartleon—whose subordinate is he?”
His sharp gaze swept over the audience, cold and piercing.
The sudden inquiry brought the ceremony to an abrupt halt. Guests exchanged glances, curiosity and apprehension brimming in their eyes as they silently questioned who this “Lynn” might be.
Upon recognizing his surname, however, many in the room fell silent, their expressions shifting to surprise and unease.
Greya, Morris, and several others exchanged glances, audibly sucking in sharp breaths.
They downed their drinks in quick succession, as if attempting to quell their shock and frustration.
Beyond the Augusta Estate contingent, others in the crowd also reacted to the familiar name.
Among them, Second Prince Felit instinctively lowered his head, a faint smirk curling his lips.
So, my anticipation was correct. Your return to the capital was inevitable. And on your first day back, you’ve already caused a stir big enough to reach Father.
Yet his gaze flickered toward the Mosgra family head and the Cardinal of the Divine Order Church—two of Lynn’s old adversaries, who were both present.
How will you handle facing them?
How intriguing.
The silver-haired prince’s enigmatic smile deepened.
Meanwhile, First Princess Shirina also revealed a subtle shift in her expression, furrowing her brows slightly. The mere mention of Lynn’s name in such a formal and dignified setting seemed to catch her off guard.
Beside her, Captain Xiya’s eyes burned with anger as his fists clenched involuntarily.
In a quiet corner of the hall, Tiya bit her lip, recalling her previous encounter with him.
That damned man! Why won’t he stay out of sight?!
She inhaled deeply, forcing down the irritation bubbling within her.
The council hall had fallen into a heavy silence.
All eyes, each harboring their own thoughts, focused on this unexpected turn of events.
When no one answered his question, Saint Roland VI’s gaze shifted toward his third daughter, Yveste.
In an instant, father and daughter locked eyes across the room.
Yveste’s crimson gaze, seemingly devoid of emotion, carried a faint glimmer of derision.