Imperial Crown.

Chapter 530 open the door
Many thanks to Qidian's "Holy Throne" for the 500 reward!

……

"right"

"I'm sorry, Melissa Hainholz, I... I just couldn't help it."

Vesdon apologized very cautiously.

"fine."

Without screaming or even anger, Melissa glanced at her robes and said calmly.

He then left the Dragon's Breath Tavern and disappeared into the rainy night.

"What?! What's going on? Does this genius magical girl have a thing for border barbarians?" Chelsea Irevon couldn't help but exclaim.

"Impossible! This is absolutely impossible!" Murphy Qutherland shouted in disbelief.

“That’s very possible!” Sowin Berenheim nodded in a deep voice.

Melissa, a magical prodigy from the Imperial Royal Academy, is known to all for her aloofness and coldness. If it were anyone else, Melissa would have already used magic to teach them a lesson.

This time, however, he did not blame Vesdon, and his voice was very gentle.

For a moment, everyone in the Dragon's Breath Tavern looked extremely uncomfortable, as if they had swallowed a greenbottle fly. Their eyes were filled with hostility as they looked at Viston. She was the goddess of the entire academy! Who hadn't fantasized about her? And yet she had taken a liking to Viston, this barbarian from the borderlands. If they weren't so weak against Viston, they would have loved to give him a good beating right now.

Even Viston himself was stunned, staring incredulously at the entrance of the Dragon's Breath Tavern. In all his years at the academy, he had spoken to Melissa very few times, definitely less than ten. She was beautiful, aloof, cold as ice, and most importantly, of noble birth, a magical genius. Viston was self-aware enough to never have dared to harbor any illusions. But today's events left Viston puzzled. Could it be that she truly liked him? To be honest, what man wouldn't want a wife like that? But as he grew older, Viston was no longer as naive as he had been in his childhood.

Only Jeffrey on the second floor knew the truth! What nonsense about liking Veston! It was just that Melissa was about to marry Raven and didn't want any conflict with Veston. If he really embarrassed Veston, how could they get along in the future? "Raven! Raven! It's that Raven again!" He truly didn't understand what magic Raven possessed that made His Majesty the King grant him titles time and time again! Jeffrey Gustav clenched his fists so tightly that blood seeped from his palms, dripping onto the wooden planks. At this moment, Jeffrey's hatred for Raven had exceeded its limit; his eyes were deep, and a murderous intent surged within them.

"gone."

Vesdon took all 1000 gold coins, let out a satisfied burp, and said with a smile, "These 1000 gold coins, if spent sparingly, are enough to cover more than two months' worth of food expenses." How could Vesdon not be happy?

The noble descendants wore expressions of profound grief, sighing like defeated roosters. It wasn't the money they were heartbroken over, but rather the despair of losing to Veston once again. This was the most likely way they could think of to defeat Veston.

Vesdon stepped out of the Dragon's Breath Tavern. The cold, rainy night made him shiver. He was incredibly thirsty. To eat more than Jad, Vesdon hadn't dared to drink a drop of alcohol earlier. If he wanted more alcohol afterward, he'd have to pay for it himself, which he was reluctant to do. Taking advantage of the rainy night, he strode towards his house.

The living environment at the Imperial Royal Academy is naturally unparalleled, boasting mountains and rivers, and a plethora of rare and exotic plants and magical beasts. The eight dukes of the capital each have their own small castles within the academy, not only free of charge, but also fully equipped with servants, cooks, tutors, private instructors, martial arts schools, and guards. In addition, there are numerous three-story detached villas for the sons of nobles from other regions who possess some but not much wealth. Vesdon used to rent there, but now he can only afford a small single room. Even that annual rent isn't cheap.

Half an hour later, Vesdon returned to the house, completely soaked. He closed the door, stripped off his clothes, threw them on the wooden floor, and rushed into the shower. He scooped up a large ladle of water and gulped it down. "Ah!" he exclaimed. He then hummed a little tune as he bathed. The only inconvenience was probably his alchemical prosthetic limb, but fortunately, over the years, Vesdon had long since gotten used to it.

After taking a shower, Vesdon walked out of the bathroom naked without even drying himself. With a "click," the magic lamp was turned on by Vesdon, but the next moment, his face twitched involuntarily, and he hurriedly covered his crotch with both hands.

Before him sat a man shrouded in black robes. His deliberately grown beard bore a resemblance to that of his elder brother.

"Simon?? What brings you here?"

"I'm so surprised," Viston said, then frantically started looking for his underwear to put on.

"The Marquis sent me to deliver a letter to you." Simon's gaze remained fixed on Viston's face, not even glancing at his lower body, and he spoke in a slightly cold and mechanical voice.

"oh oh"

After putting on his underwear, Viston felt somewhat relieved of his embarrassment. He gave Simon a strange look, took the letter from Simon's hand, and found the sealing wax intact, revealing the Griffith family crest in perfect detail. What puzzled Viston, however, was Simon's seemingly cold attitude; he showed no enthusiasm whatsoever when he saw him.

"What's wrong?" Veston asked with concern, not in a hurry to open the letter.

“I’m not unhappy.” Simon’s face showed a slight change, but it was hard for him to smile. He said in detail, “I devoured the angel’s essence.”

"You devoured the angel's essence? You've become a reincarnated angel now?" Vesdon was quite surprised, then a hint of envy flashed in his eyes. "Congratulations, Simon! And what about your current level..."

“Fifth tier,” Simon replied calmly, then urged, “Hurry up and read it. After you finish, I need to burn the letter and go back to report. We can’t stay here any longer.”

"Fifth tier?! ...

Simon's cheek twitched, and he also reached out to shake hands with Veston.

Viston laughed heartily, sitting down beside Simon and putting his arm around his shoulder. "Remember when we were kids and I hit you on the head with a rock? It made a blood blister the size of an egg." As he spoke, Viston even made a fist to illustrate.

Simon finally smiled and nodded.

"Why do people always miss their childhood once they grow up?" Vesdon couldn't help but sigh.

“Happiness,” Simon said after a moment’s thought, his words as rare as gold.

“Yes!” Vesdon nodded. “When I was a child, I was so happy. I didn’t know what sorrow was.”

With that, Veston sighed and, in front of Simon, opened the letter.

"To Brother Weiss Dong:"
Seeing this letter is like seeing you in person. Several years have passed since we last met, and I wonder if you are doing well in the capital?

Everything is fine at home, so please don't worry. Your mother is stationed in Snowmaple County, while your brother led over 40,000 troops deep into the Orc Empire. After months of fierce fighting, they have finally achieved some success and established a foothold in Nightthroat Province, which is their future.

My brother has decided to travel alone to the Elven Empire. This is a closely guarded secret, known only to you and Lux. If I were to die, I have already made a will, and the Griffith family will be taken over by you.

Merovingian is still young. When she grows up, you must help her choose a good husband and marry her. Under no circumstances should she inherit a title or participate in politics. This is also my brother's dying wish.

As I write this letter, countless thoughts flood my mind, a mix of joy and sorrow. Born into a chaotic world, my life has been one of constant struggle and uncertainty, a life lived with unwavering resolve and constant anxiety. Yet, it has also been a life of extraordinary achievements, a rare feat in history. Therefore, I have no regrets.

Your father died early, and your mother doted on you, which has led to your narrow-mindedness, sharp tongue, and biased approach to people and things. If you inherit the title, I hope you will temper your temper, be cautious, reflect on yourself daily, and plan carefully before acting. The road ahead is long and arduous, and even your closest and dearest loved ones are but passersby and scenery in your life, ultimately unable to accompany you forever.

Since the Blood Curse broke out, the five-year period is approaching, and the situation is becoming increasingly perilous. I only wish you all the best. Remember, if Habs tries to recruit you to betray him, do not fall for it. He is extremely suspicious and will never easily trust you; he is merely testing you. Only if you refuse will he offer you a title, cultivation resources, or even a marriage contract… as a lure. Breaking ties with your mother is only the first step, your brother's confession to Thomas is only the second, and there is a third step, which I hope will not happen. Since I inherited the barony, I have been planning a war against Habs, and it has been ten years now.

Ten years! Ten years to hone this skill!
This betrayal will inevitably lead to public ridicule, the alienation and contempt of friends and family, and the indelible stain of "disloyalty, unfilial piety, and injustice." I know you are fighting alone here, enduring immense physical and mental torment. Every time I think of you, I feel your pain deeply, my heart aches with unbearable sorrow. This sentiment is as clear as day and night. While hardships endured in private can be overcome, public dignity is fragile. If you truly cannot persevere, you can return; there's no need to grit your teeth and stubbornly endure it.

If you insist on staying, find a safe place as soon as possible to hide in afterward. The code word is "open the door." Unless you hear this phrase, never open the door, no matter who knocks or what they say.

The letter is too small; too many heartfelt words cannot be expressed aloud. One last piece of advice: never easily trust others. If you encounter difficulties, silently recite the nine Chinese characters "临兵斗者皆阵列前行" (Lin Bing Dou Zhe Jie Zhen Lie Qian Xing). I taught you this before.

A true man is born with integrity and will surely die with integrity.

Though the day of death is near, it is as if one has lived for years.

Brother Raven.

By the time Veston finished reading the letter, tears were streaming down his face, and he was sobbing uncontrollably. Turning around, he realized that Simon had quietly left sometime earlier.

Vesdon wiped away his tears, crumpled the tear-soaked parchment into a ball, and burned it to ashes. When he looked up again, his eyes were filled with determination.

The night was exceptionally long; Vesdon tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. It wasn't until dawn that he finally drifted off to sleep.

"Who's outside?" After an unknown amount of time, Vesdon, who was dizzy and had a headache, suddenly woke up and shouted in a panic.

"Veston Griffiths, centurion of the 3rd elite heavy cavalry detachment of the 1st Legion of the Eagle Army, has come to execute the traitor—Veston Targaryen!" A thunderous roar echoed from outside the door.

"No! I am not a traitor!" Veston shouted, tears streaming down his face.

The next moment, Vesdon sat up in bed, rubbing his temples. "Ugh, that damn dream again."

In fact, ever since he decided to betray, Vesdon has been having this nightmare for years, which has gradually weakened his nerves.

Looking out the window, he saw it was already dusk. Viston got out of bed and began to wash up. "Another day of skipping class. I wonder how my professor will punish me?" he muttered dejectedly.

The Imperial Royal Academy offered a wide variety of courses, but aside from military affairs, diplomacy, and martial arts, Vesdon had absolutely no interest in other subjects such as magical plants, minerals, magical beasts, alchemy, aristocratic etiquette, and history. He simply couldn't be bothered to rack his brains, and besides, he wasn't a magician.

He had just glanced at the course, and it just so happened that it was about to start with the aristocratic etiquette he hated the most.

Dragging his weary body, Vesdon arrived at the classroom. Class had already begun, and the classroom was full of people, both men and women, but mostly girls. Vesdon glanced around and noticed that Melissa was there too.

"Oh? Who's this? Isn't this the infamous border barbarian who ate 11 gold coin burgers yesterday? I'm just curious, do you, a border barbarian, really need to learn aristocratic etiquette? Will you really need it when you go back?" A blunt, mocking voice rang out.

The entire classroom erupted in laughter.

“Master Al-Abel, please allow me to apologize. I ate too much yesterday and couldn’t sleep, which is why I’m late,” Vesdon said humbly. “However, please also take back what you just said. I am not a barbarian from the borderlands, but a human warrior who participated in the Battle of Eivor and contributed to the Empire.” Vesdon knew that the other party was an old scholar who would ridicule anyone who was late, so he didn’t say anything unpleasant.

"So what? Does that give you the right to be late?!" Al-Abel, with his long white beard and thick glasses, slammed down the book in his hand and roared, "It's just killing two people on the battlefield! What's so great about that! I've taught students my whole life, haven't I worked harder than you? Haven't I achieved more than you? Besides, is killing something to brag about? The Duchy of Eivor is another country, and one of the member states of the Feton City-States! What conflict can't be resolved through diplomatic mediation? Does it have to come to the point of bloodshed?! You get all worked up when I call you a barbarian! I think you're even worse than a barbarian! You're just a pure-blooded orc!" "Do you dare say that among the people you and Raven killed, there weren't any good people? Weren't there any innocent civilians? Do you dare say that your Eagle Army didn't rape innocent women? Only beasts would invade other countries!" "You're not ashamed at all, but proud of it! You're utterly shameless! Utterly despicable!"

"well said!"

Just as Veston was about to unleash a torrent of abuse on the old scholar before him, a loud shout suddenly came from behind him.

Everyone looked outside.

A large group of people suddenly crowded into the classroom, and the leader was a dwarf who was about half a person's height.

Upon seeing the newcomer, Al-Abel's expression instantly changed, replaced by a fawning smile as he hurriedly emerged from the classroom. "Lord Pierre, what brings you here?"

“If I hadn’t come, how could I have heard such noble teachings from Master Alabel?” Pierre walked over unhurriedly, stood at eye level with Vesdon, and said in a loud voice, “Master Alabel, you are right, I agree with everything you say.” “However, I have a question.”

“Please speak, Lord Piler,” Al-Abel said with a smile, bowing hurriedly.

"So, if war can be resolved through diplomatic mediation, then why did the Insa Empire invade our city of Makik?" "And why did they kill so many of our soldiers and not stop until the empire paid reparations before withdrawing their troops?" Pierre's voice was loud enough for not only the people in this classroom to hear, but also students and instructors from other classrooms came out to see what was going on.

"Uh, this..."

Al-Abel's expression changed, unsure how to respond.

"Snapped!!!"

Without a word, Pierre slapped Al-Abel hard across the face. "You old bastard, you've wasted your whole life!" "I sent you to teach noble etiquette, just so you could spout nonsense and distort the truth all day?!" "Do you know that if it weren't for the Battle of Eivor, and Insa's concerns about instability at home, they wouldn't have so easily truced themselves?! Our Keynes Empire would probably have had to cede territory to make peace!" "When the enemy's sword fell on your head, did you dare call them beasts? Did you dare call them bastard beastmen?!" "Since you're so brave, why don't you go to the Insa Empire and point at their king's face, accusing them of indiscriminately killing innocent people and good folks?" "What? In your heart, only people from other countries are good people, and the people of the Keynes Empire aren't?!"

"Then let me ask you! Are the people of Keynes even human beings???!!!"

With that, Pierre kicked Al-Abel again, sending him flying far away, howling like a dog.

"Listen up, all of you! Soldiers! They are the ones who protect our country!" Pierre strode into the classroom and shouted, "It is because soldiers risk their lives and fight bloody battles on the battlefield that you can study here in peace!" "A country that does not respect its soldiers has absolutely no future!"

"Guards! Take this old scoundrel who is spreading heresy away and throw him into the Abyss! Imprison him for life! No one is allowed to visit him!"

"Lord Piler! I was wrong! I apologize to Veston! Forgive me! Forgive me!" Upon hearing this, Al-Abel's old face turned pale, and he hurriedly rolled up to his knees and crawled forward to beg.

But his wailing soon ceased, as the Black Feather Guards behind Pierre had already taken him away.

"Mr. Vesdon, His Majesty invites you to the palace for a discussion."

Once the noise subsided, Pierre came before Veston and loudly greeted him.

……

(End of this chapter)