Alien world

Chapter 1844, Section 477: The Macho Man
"His Highness the Third Prince is very grateful for your assistance to the kingdom and is waiting for you here in person."

The eldest sister and Olmedo knew about the third prince's regency, but Annan had always ignored political affairs.

"You're too kind. The Grand Marshal and I have fought side by side."

Annan immediately adopted a warm and welcoming demeanor, leading them into the gardens of the mountain palace like a host—considering that he had visited just over ten days ago, this wasn't unreasonable.

As they approached the garden entrance, two guards clad in golden armor blocked their way with their spears and shouted, "Demons, halt!"

"She's from Liberty City. Do you want to see her citizenship documents?"

The war envoy stepped forward to negotiate, and a few seconds later, the spear was moved aside.

Annan turned to Ruth and said, "Congratulations, you are probably the first demon in history to set foot on Montreal Hill."

Ruth was honored and wished Evelyn were there too, so he could get his picture in the newspaper.

"Come on, smile."

As she was thinking this, she heard Anan's voice from the side, revealing a bright smile that would almost never appear on a demon's face, and she reflexively looked over.

"Click~"

Annan made an onomatopoeic sound, used the recording magic stone to capture the scene, and then threw the magic stone to her.

"Alright, keep this safe."

Ruth caught the Philosopher's Stone, her smile shifting from bright to gentle.

Many years later, on that afternoon, she sat in the living room, with a dozen or so children with succubus wings, black hair, and black eyes lying in front of her, listening to her tell the story of how her mother and father met. At that moment, Anan's voice came from the kitchen, and they smiled at each other...

“Hehe... Annan... my Annan…” Ruth chuckled on the spot, holding the magic stone.

"She's having a fit, just ignore her."

Annan, feeling ashamed, pulled the third prince along and followed the guards leading the way.

As they passed the front hall, Annan stared at the guards for a long time.

"Is there something wrong with him?" the third prince asked, puzzled.

"I wonder if that emperor is secretly coming to see me again disguised as a guard."

He was unrecognizable with the helmet on, but his height was different—his only sore spot was his height, which made Annan very sensitive.

The regent prince's steps became even lighter, as if he had somehow discovered something extraordinary...

After wandering around the vast, labyrinthine palace gardens, the guards led them to a noisy banquet hall.

Many people were standing in the hall. The guests who could be here were all wealthy and powerful, and most of them wore different badges on their chests, representing the power behind them.

Most of the guests were very careful and dared not make a sound during the banquet; only occasional whispers drifted from the corners.

Annan glanced around, frowned, and asked the war envoy accompanying them, "War envoy, what's going on here?"

Could it be that the empire is not seeking an alliance between the two of them, but rather another chaotic coalition?

Then Liberty City will have to consider whether or not to go all out...

"Please calm down, Lord Annam. The alliance needs the witnesses of all the powers in the Central Plains." The war envoy couldn't reveal too much, but he still explained.

Annan understood; these guests from different factions were actually witnesses to the alliance, and things gradually returned to calm.

There was no way around it; after all, he had been tricked by the Elven Court in the same way before, so he couldn't help but be nervous.

"Please rest in the banquet hall for a while, and we will begin once all the guests have arrived," said the two war envoys who accompanied Annam and the Third Prince. They then left the banquet hall after seeing the guests off.

Annan watched their retreating figures and said enviously, "So handsome. When will we have our own war envoys?"

Just as the third prince was about to answer, Ruth stepped in and said, "I think the name 'Angel of Death' sounds better."

"Annan's angel of death?" Annan muttered to himself, feeling something was off.

"Then the Emperor's Death Angel."

“The thirteen kings are filling the valleys and pits. What are you trying to achieve by saying this?” Annan glanced sideways, thankfully no one was eavesdropping on their conversation.

The lustful demon spoke without restraint: "Have you forgotten? Your human king of mud has been vacant for a long time."

"You mean, the Holy Council has so many powerful figures sitting in the first row, but instead chooses a puppet lord who at best sits in the third row, has a lot of money but little military power, and only a few hundred thousand subjects under his command, making him an easy puppet king?"

Ruth bit her purple nail: "I didn't think you were very competitive before, but now that you mention it... it seems like you have even more opportunities."

"What's the point of being a supreme king? Do they live as well as I do?"

Annan, seeing the Third Prince unable to get a word in edgewise, was just about to cultivate a relationship with the Third Prince when another pleasant voice, like a babbling brook, interrupted.

"Your Excellency Annam, it's been a long time."

Following the sound, Annan saw a handsome, thin old man dressed in a well-tailored suit and was slightly taken aback. "Mr. Frannin?"

"I'm glad you still remember me."

Minister Franning smiled, then looked at the third prince: "This must be His Highness Doyle?"

“Mr. Frannin, I often hear my father mention you.” The third prince bowed slightly.
“Yes, several years ago, I still maintained the tradition of visiting the Kingdom of Dimon every now and then,” Frannin remarked.

The ratmen and the demons messed everything up; without them, everything would have been perfect...

Annan noticed that the half-elf minister of the Principality of Keating had more gray hair than a few years ago, whether intentionally or as he approached the aging stage of a half-elf.

“Annan, I came for you.”

After a brief reminiscing, Frannin’s attention returned to Annan.

The third prince had some suspicions, so he didn't disturb them and took the ministers aside to give them some space.

“Annan… is not what I imagined.”

The third prince, who had come to the table, glanced at Annan and Frannin, who were talking, and said in a low voice, "I thought Annan Reeves would be a strong man who would shoulder heavy responsibilities and save his family and the North on his own."

"It's as if the world wasn't saved by a giant dragon lying there, but by a kitten next to it."

“He is indeed a muscular man,” the minister whispered.

“I know, it’s just that his appearance is too deceptive.”

The third prince remarked that his first meeting with Annam had given him a slight shock: "This Annamite lord is really different from ordinary people... But to be honest, he's quite easy to get along with, unlike those old guys who try every means to put pressure on you and make you feel that he's not someone to mess with."

"So do you think he's easy to mess with?" the Home Secretary asked deliberately.

"Come on, who's easy to bully and can turn a mess into this? This is a real ruthless person. They never show their true colors, always smiling before striking with deadly precision—"

In private, the third prince didn't put on any airs of a prince. He spread his hands and said, "If my younger brothers were like him, what would be the point of me working hard?"

(End of this chapter)