Imperial Crown.

Chapter 531 Your Majesty, you have a keen eye for people.
"Uh, Lord Piler, may I ask why His Majesty summoned me?"

Extremely anxious all the way, when he finally arrived at the Royal Court, Vesdon couldn't help but ask out of curiosity.

The carriage was surprisingly spacious and luxuriously furnished, offering an exceptionally comfortable ride without any bumps. The low table was filled with the aroma of tea, brimming with martial arts energy; even a small cup was enough to noticeably increase one's internal martial arts power. It was undoubtedly of considerable value.

But Vesdon had no time to enjoy himself; instead, he was constantly thinking about the situation he might face and how to deal with it.

"do not worry."

Pierre chuckled, trying to comfort him. "How could a mere court jester like me possibly know His Majesty's thoughts?" "It's just a matter of dealing with whatever comes your way." "Haven't you read 'How to Become a Great Emperor'? It often says, 'Since you're here, make the best of it.'" "Hahahaha!" Pierre chuckled at himself, then threw his head back and burst into laughter. "That book might even have been written by your brother!"

"have not seen."

Veston paused, sensing Peele's confusion, and shook his head. Then, as he had done at the academy, he instinctively wanted to retort, saying that he and Raven were no longer related. But then he suddenly remembered the secret letter from last night and abruptly stopped himself from speaking. "Perhaps it's my brother."

Pierre asked in surprise, "Didn't you break ties with Raven?"

Viston glanced at Pierre indifferently. "Who said that? That's not true."

“Sigh.” “Rumors can be powerful, and they can be easily spread.” Pierre shook his head. “So it was just a rumor. It made me worry for a long time.” “That makes sense. It wasn’t easy for your brother to raise you. As for the adults’ affairs, let the adults handle them.”

Veston didn't speak, but simply picked up his teacup, tilted his head back, swallowed the tea, closed his eyes, and fell silent.

Seeing this, Pierre raised an eyebrow and wisely refrained from saying anything more.

"Here we are, my lord."

Although the Warcraft vehicle was stable, it was moving very fast. In less than an hour, the sound of "Yo-ho" could be heard outside.

"Viston, let's go down."

Pierre called out and extended his palm in a gesture of invitation.

Vesdon remained silent, following behind Pierre as they walked step by step toward the palace.

This was Vesdon's first time at the royal palace. Before participating in the Battle of Eivor, he thought the largest castle on the continent was Eagle City, built by his brother Raven. After participating in the Battle of Eivor, he felt that Bluehold's Vulture Palace was even more magnificent than Eagle City. But upon arriving at the High Court, everything he had seen before had been destroyed.

Eagle City and Vashj Palace are like grains of sand before the High Court of Royal Authority.

It wasn't just the size that was impressive, but also the sheer oppressive and awe-inspiring atmosphere! Walking here, one felt the surging battle aura and surging magic, as if it were a sacred place. With each breath, the pressure in one's heart would increase, and the sense of oppression would grow ever stronger. Eventually, Vesdon unconsciously began to breathe even more lightly. He secretly marveled; in such a place, even a fool, if he consumed a divinely bestowed potion and awakened the life seed of battle aura, could probably break through to the third tier of transcendent after sleeping for 20 years!
"We've arrived." "Please wait a moment, I'll go in and let them know."

Suddenly, Pierre's voice rang out softly.

When Vesdon looked up, he saw a huge stone slab on the palace floor inscribed with the words "Palace of Jade Light," which was shining brightly and radiating magical light.

“You may go in now, Mr. Viston,” Pierre said with a smile as he quickly emerged from the palace.

Vesdon nodded, his mind calmed down, and as he walked in, the first thing that caught his eye was an extremely thin and frail figure from behind.

"Your Majesty," Vesdon bowed respectfully.

"Hmm." Habs turned around. "Come here, come here quickly."

Vesdon stepped forward and found a huge magical sandbox before him, projecting a scene of the Orcish Empire. A red dot within it was constantly breathing and flashing. Vesdon's eyes narrowed; he knew this must be the territory his brother Raven had conquered, as it was located within the Nightthroat province.

"Did you figure it out?" Habs asked with a mysterious smile.

“Uh,” Viston frowned and thought for a moment, “it’s clear that he’s a bit isolated and helpless.”

"Hahaha," Habs laughed, patting Veston on the shoulder. "Don't be shy." "Pierre, go and get my treasured Angel's Tears."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Piler quickly ran out.

"Sit down." Habs sat down in a chair, gesturing for Vesdon to sit as well. "Do you know why this palace is called the Palace of Jade Light?"

"If I'm not mistaken, it should be related to the Jade Light Festival." To be honest, the overwhelming pressure he had imagined didn't materialize. Being with Habs was even less intimidating than when he was outside. Habs was as easygoing as any ordinary young man. If he had to say, Viston felt that Habs was somewhat similar to his brother; the two always gave off a very different vibe in their gestures. Confidence? Scheming? Authority? None of those were quite the same. But Viston could immediately see that Habs lacked one thing compared to his brother—the weariness on his face. Although the atmosphere was much more relaxed than he had imagined, Viston didn't dare to let his guard down. Before speaking, he had to rehearse in his mind, then say it aloud in his head, and finally utter it from his mouth. His attempt to avoid mistakes rather than achieve anything was quite comical.

"bingo~"

Habs snapped his fingers and said with a smile, "The Emerald Light Festival is coming soon. Aren't you planning to stroll along Holy Moon Avenue? I heard you haven't left the academy much these past few years and have even been working there. What's going on?"

“Uh…” “It’s a long story about a child without a mother,” Vesdon said with a bitter smile.

"Oh?" Habs was clearly intrigued, but just then, Pierre returned, bringing with him a dozen or so stunningly beautiful maids. Each maid carried a tray with a bottle of Angel's Tears. Vesdon immediately recognized it as a high-end collector's edition of Angel's Tears. The bottle design was extremely unique, with a large, round belly at the bottom and a long, slender neck that curved like a swan. Each bottle held at least 2 liters, and fewer than 100 bottles were ever made. Whether on the open market or the black market, a single bottle had already fetched a staggering 33.7 gold coins! Yet Habs produced 16 bottles in one go.

"Come on, open a bottle for Vesdon." "Keep the rest chilled for now." Habs finished speaking and waved his hand, "You can all go down in a bit, I have something to talk to Vesdon about."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the maids replied in unison, their movements graceful and elegant.

Habs poured the wine into their glasses, clinked them together lightly, and downed them in one gulp. "Viston, how old are you again?"

“I’m 28.” A sip of wine made Vesdon feel refreshed, and his tone became much more casual. Habs chuckled and said in a tone that all men understood, “Which girl have you taken a fancy to? I’ll be your matchmaker.”

"How could I trouble Your Majesty?" Vesdon hurriedly declined.

"You!" Habs feigned anger, pulling a letter from his sleeve. "Take a look yourself. This is a letter your mother had someone deliver to me. Do you think I want to meddle in other people's business?"

When Vesdon opened the letter, he saw that it was indeed his mother's handwriting. A look of embarrassment flashed across his face. He then folded the letter and placed it on the table. "My affairs are none of her concern."

Habs, having witnessed everything, asked curiously, "Could it be that Raven and your mother really..."

“Your Majesty!” Vesdon interrupted stiffly.

“Alright.” Habs shook his head. “Sigh, this little bee is really a headache.” “There’s something I’d like you to see.” With that, Habs took out a photographic crystal and handed it to Veston.

After reading the contents of the recording crystal, Vesdon's face remained expressionless, showing neither worry nor joy. Only a faint, complex emotion lingered. This was truly the first time he had ever seen its contents; he had been holed up in the academy, only learning of Raven's marquisate through other students. "Thank you, Your Majesty," Vesdon said, returning the recording crystal.

"How are you feeling now?" Habs asked.

Viston raised an eyebrow and tentatively asked, "Feeling a little better?"

After saying that, the two exchanged a glance, then burst into smug, mocking laughter. "Come on, cheers!"

The two chatted idly, and time passed quickly. It was already dusk when Viston woke up, and before he knew it, it was late at night. Six out of the sixteen bottles of Angel's Tears had already been consumed, and both were flushed and sweating profusely. They kept running their hands through their hair, because their scalps felt tight when they were drunk.

Fortunately, this was a royal palace, where there was no shortage of delicious food, so the two of them were able to keep up.

This was arguably the best meal Viston had eaten in years. Tears of emotion streamed down his face uncontrollably! He'd been eating coin burgers at school every day to save a pittance; he was sick of it, even the smell made him want to vomit. He was truly fed up.

"cough cough"

Habs suddenly cleared his throat, and Vesdon's heart skipped a beat, realizing that the main event of the day was about to begin.

"Viston, after Raven dies, who do you think would be the best successor to the Marquisate?" Habs asked, his eyes glazed with drunkenness.

“Of course it’s Melove,” Veston blurted out.

“Mellov?” A look of doubt flashed across Habs’s face.

"Raven's daughter, don't you know, Your Majesty?" The two were quite drunk, their arms around each other like brothers.

"Hey." "I know, I know." "I drank a bit too much, I didn't think of it for a moment." Habs nodded. "But what if I said I wanted you to inherit the Griffith family?"

Viston paused for a moment, then remained silent.

The Keynesian Empire, while not at its zenith, was certainly not rotten. If it were to launch a full-scale war, the Insa Empire would have at least a 6% chance of being completely crushed! But Habsburg's only worry was that the governors and nobles of the various provinces were all his father's former confidants and subordinates. His authority, while nominally based on his father's influence, was actually largely dependent on his father's influence. Therefore, while these nobles wouldn't outwardly disobey his decrees, they secretly undermined them significantly. For example, taxes decreased year after year, and they dared not question it; if they did, they would be more furious than the king himself! They even had the audacity to claim it was his money! He collected 300 million in taxes! Others got 200 million, but he, the king, only got 100 million! How could that be fair? And then there was the issue of military action. Habsburg wanted to wage a full-scale war against the Insa Empire, but nobody supported him! This bachelor king was utterly incompetent! Leaving aside distant examples, just consider the Battle of Makik. The troops they sent were all ragtag dregs; the elite troops were all hidden away. This resulted in the complete annihilation of Habsburg's Bloodrage Legion! Who wouldn't be furious in that situation? And then there's the issue of provisions. They wouldn't send troops or money, fine, but couldn't they at least provide some logistical support? The truckloads that arrived were all old rice from previous years, some moldy, some even mixed with sawdust, and worse, some were half rice and half sand. Habsburg discovered that the serfs there had been eating this all along—no wonder so many were dying. So Habsburg was enraged, and he implemented the Malabar Spinach Plan. The Malabar Spinach Plan was essentially another form of weakening the power of the serfs. They either had to pay money, provide manpower, and supply provisions to prove their loyalty, or relinquish power and be replaced by someone loyal to Habsburg. Tell me, which emperor in the world wouldn't want to hold absolute power and rule alone?
The Malabar Spice Project didn't go very smoothly, which led to the Fox family's overnight annihilation. After that, things went much more smoothly.

Although Raven is a member of the younger generation, he is not easy to control. This is Habs's assessment of Raven, which is why he needs Veston to take over the Griffith family. He is determined to replace all these nobles in his lifetime, and then launch a war against the Insa Empire to avenge their past humiliations!
“Your Majesty,” Vesdon asked, his tongue slurring, “are you talking nonsense or deliberately insulting me?”

Agreeing to Habs's demands would be tantamount to betraying Raven. If Veston agreed, Raven was doomed. Therefore, a hint of anger flashed across Veston's face, though it was fleeting.

Habs nodded. "If you're unwilling, I naturally won't force you. How about I bestow a title upon you here? A court title, how about that?"

Viston was clearly tempted by this, but then shook his head. "Never mind, Your Majesty, I don't have much interest in titles."

"The Battle Mother Potion is extinct." Habs's ring flashed, and he pulled out five golden potions. "These are Battle-Burning Potions made from Eagle Yellow Moss. Five bottles are enough for you to break through to the third tier." "I can guarantee I won't harm Raven. After all, he's a meritorious official, and I'm not in a hurry. But I demand that after he dies, you inherit the Griffith family and pledge allegiance to me." "As for Raven, he won't live long." "Even if I don't act, do you really think the Orc Empire will let him go back alive? I've already informed the other countries of Raven's battle report. The Orc Empire will get wind of it sooner or later." "Moreover, that idiot Governor Tyron of the Nord Province has taken it upon himself to openly support Raven, which is exactly what I wanted."

Originally, he ennobled Tyrone as a marquis to incite a conflict between him and Raven. But years passed with no action. So he deliberately ennobled Raven as a marquis to provoke Tyrone, and it worked. Habsburgs secretly hoped Tyrone and Raven would fight each other, preferably both dead. What's the use of keeping a disobedient and possessive dog?
“Your Majesty, to be honest, I very much want to break through to the third tier.” “However, this goes against the principles of my, Vesdon Targaryen.” Vesdon reluctantly pushed the five bottles of Burning Potions back.

"You little brat, you're absolutely stubborn!" Habs said, a little annoyed.

"A marriage proposal." Since neither title nor resources could sway Viston, Habs had no choice but to resort to his last trump card—a honey trap. If that also failed, then Viston would lose his value for Habston's wooing. "If I remember correctly, there's a pretty girl in your academy named Melissa, isn't there? How about you marry her to her?"

Vesdon then shook his head, "My mother always told me that marriage should be between equals. Someone like me wouldn't have a good ending if I married her. I want to live a few more years."

"What if I tell you a secret?" "This Melissa is the woman who is about to marry Raven," Habs said with a wicked grin.

"Ok??"

Vesdon was shocked. "Really?" Melissa Hainholz was the magical genius goddess of the entire Imperial Academy! The dream lover of countless noble descendants! And she was actually betrothed to his elder brother! To say that Vesdon didn't like Melissa would be a complete lie.

“How could I, the ruler of a nation, deceive you?” Habs said somewhat angrily.

"..."

Vesdon pursed his sexy lips. "I must say, Your Majesty, you have an excellent eye for people." "Please allow me to offer you a toast."

……

(End of this chapter)