World version update

Chapter 292 Continue
Elizabeth, dressed in a court dress with her long, silvery-white hair cascading over her shoulders, stood quietly at the edge of the crowd, close to the throne, yet seemingly separated by an invisible chasm.

As a member of the royal family, she is theoretically entitled to inherit the throne, but this remains only at the theoretical level.

Reality is cold and cruel; none of the factions present would choose her.

The great nobles would not choose her; the guilds she controlled and vigorously developed had already threatened the fundamental interests of too many nobles who relied on exploiting workers to accumulate wealth.

If it weren't for the unfathomable Lu Yan behind her, the aristocratic class would probably have already launched a full-scale attack on the guild.

Now, removing her from the center of power is exactly what they want.

The royal family would not choose her either, because she lacked a strong foundation and powerful maternal support. In the eyes of those royal powerhouses who had been immersed in power struggles for many years, she was nothing more than a pretty face with a little bit of cleverness.

He used Charles to force the old King Charles to abdicate, thus depriving Charles, as the first in line to the throne, of his chance to sit on the throne. He then took the initiative to make contact with Lu Yan, hoping to gain Lu Yan's support in order to seize the throne.

Elizabeth's little schemes were utterly beneath the notice of the old royal family.

Their tacit approval of Elizabeth's plan to force the old king to abdicate was solely for their own benefit. When Elizabeth attempted to reach the throne, they would ruthlessly thwart any of her delusions.

This change of king was a manifestation of Lu Yan's will. In order to reclaim the scepter of royal power, the royal family and nobles had no choice but to accept this humiliating reality.

But this was already the limit of their tolerance. They would never allow Lu Yan, whom they secretly regarded as a major enemy, to further interfere with the core power transition of the Victorian Kingdom by supporting Elizabeth.

To make her the new queen? That would be an open challenge to the entire royal family and the nobility, a bottom line they could not accept under any circumstances.

Therefore, Elizabeth could only stand there, like an outsider, silently watching this power division that would determine the future of the kingdom.

Who do you think is the winner?

King Charles's voice was low and slow, carrying a hint of imperceptible weariness, yet it rang clearly in Elizabeth's ears.

Elizabeth turned her head to look at her father beside her; the abdication of this once-majestic king was now a foregone conclusion.

Even though he was forced to a standstill amidst the turbulent waves of power, beneath his slightly aged appearance, his eyes still held a wise brilliance that revealed his understanding of the world.

Elizabeth's gaze did not answer immediately, but slowly swept across the hall.

Her gaze first fell on Prince Charles, who was not far away. The former first in line to the throne was now ashen-faced, his tightly pursed lips forming stiff lines.

He would occasionally glance in Elizabeth's direction, making no attempt to hide the resentment and bitterness in his eyes.

Elizabeth understood perfectly well that Charles was probably already aware that he had been pushed to the forefront by various forces, serving as the sharpest knife to force his father to abdicate.

Judging from the outcome, he seemed to have succeeded; the conservatives were defeated and the king abdicated.

However, the price of this success was that he himself completely lost his eligibility to inherit the throne.

To govern overseas colonies that were several times larger than the Victorian Kingdom itself?
These words were spoken in a grand and dignified manner, as if they were a supreme honor and power.

But who in the palace didn't know that the greatest value of those vast but barren lands was that they continuously supplied resources and wealth to the kingdom's homeland?

For the lower and middle classes eager to make a name for themselves, it may have been full of challenges and opportunities, but for Prince Charles, who was once only one step away from the throne, it was nothing short of a dignified exile.

Elizabeth gently shifted her gaze, then turned to Prince Ford on the other side.

At this moment, Prince Ford was in high spirits, surrounded by a group of jubilant nobles.

He held aloft a crystal glass filled with deep red wine, chatting warmly with those around him, occasionally letting out a hearty laugh, as if they were already discussing the grand blueprint for the future of the country.

Prince Ford inherited the throne, and by all accounts, he should have been the ultimate victor in this power struggle.

However, Elizabeth clearly saw that the merit of this victory was highly questionable.

Charles took control of the overseas colonies, while Diana seized power in the council of nobles, and the power of the kingdom was clearly divided.

Moreover, Prince Ford's own foundation and influence were far inferior to those of Charles, who had cultivated them for many years.

It is foreseeable that for a long time to come, this new king will likely remain a figurehead, constrained by various forces and unable to truly exert his power.

Elizabeth's gaze finally settled on Princess Diana.

The princess, known for her beauty and pride, stood gracefully among a group of princes and nobles who supported her.

With a powerful maternal clan as her backing and the explicit support of several esteemed royal princes, she now rightfully holds the reins of the increasingly powerful noble council.

On the surface, she seems to be the most hidden and biggest winner in this complex game.

However, Elizabeth had a different opinion.

Everyone seems to have consciously overlooked a crucial point: no matter how talented or skillful Diana was, she was ultimately just a princess, not a queen.

She lacked the nominal and natural authority that symbolized the highest power in the country.

The members of the Noble Council were all long-established, top-tier nobles with deep roots and a long history.

They are all deeply entrenched and have their own agendas. Even if they outwardly comply with the outcome of this political discussion, in the long run, will these nobles, who are used to manipulating power behind the scenes, really be obedient and follow the orders of a princess for a long time?

Elizabeth was highly skeptical of this.

Handing over the council of nobles to Diana may have been just the first step for those great nobles to completely strip the power of the council from the king.

Once the council of nobles is legitimately independent of the monarchy and becomes a self-contained power center, how much real constraint can a mere princess without the title of king exert on them?

As for the royal princes who supported her, most of them were powerful high-sequence superhumans who were used to being detached from worldly affairs.

For them, a short period of seclusion or slumber could last for decades or even centuries.

As long as Diana can maintain a semblance of stability and not touch their core interests, why would these old monsters easily start a major conflict because of the power struggles within the Council of Nobles?
After all, the Kingdom of Victoria is no longer a place where the royal family has absolute power.

Ultimately, everything still needs to follow the so-called rules.

None of the three seemingly glamorous princes and princesses are the real winners.

Elizabeth knew perfectly well that the ultimate victors of this power game were the nobles who filled the palace halls, those who had silently and successfully weakened the monarchy.

She took a deep breath, preparing to whisper her judgment to the old king beside her.

But in the next second, her pupils suddenly contracted, and all her thoughts seemed to freeze instantly.

Her gaze suddenly swept past the crowd, pierced through the thick palace walls, and looked straight toward the Orank Industrial District.

In the depths of Elizabeth's heart, a faint yet clear ripple spread.

Months ago, after learning that Anna was valued by Lu Yan, Elizabeth secretly gifted Anna a special sealing artifact, the Ring of Life, to protect her safety in critical moments and to serve as a secret connection.

Just now, she clearly felt that the life ring that embodied the meaning of protection was touched. A pure and powerful wave of soul sublimation, accompanied by the unique aura of the advancement of extraordinary power, came accurately from the direction of the industrial area, crossing the barrier of space and imprinting itself into her perception.

Elizabeth knew all too well what this meant.

Anna has successfully crossed the boundary and entered the ranks of Sequence Seven.

More importantly, the path Anna took was the Underworld Path personally created by Lu Yan.

Anna's promotion was like a lighthouse suddenly illuminating the night, announcing a fact: Lu Yan has returned!
In an instant, the dejection and helplessness that had shrouded Elizabeth's eyes due to the loss of power vanished without a trace, like a thin mist dispelled by the rising sun.

Her back straightened unconsciously, and her gaze became sharp and firm again.

She turned to look at her father, King Charles, whose eyes held a complex and profound meaning. Her voice was soft, yet carried an undeniable certainty:

There can only be one winner.

Under the undisguised astonishment of old King Charles, Elizabeth's tightly pursed lips slowly curved into a confident, even slightly provocative, smile.

"that's me!"

Almost at the same moment she finished speaking, the court official in charge of the ceremony had already stepped down from the platform in the palace hall.

He cleared his throat and, facing the numerous nobles and royal members in the hall with their varied expressions, announced in a solemn and formulaic tone:
"Regarding the succession to the throne, it has been decided through discussions among all parties that His Highness Prince Fude shall succeed to the throne."

Do any of you have any objections to this?

This was originally just a symbolic inquiry, a perfunctory formality.

After days of intense competition and exchanges of interests, all parties had already reached a fragile consensus.

To rashly voice opposition in such a situation is tantamount to challenging all vested interests simultaneously, and would inevitably make one a target of public criticism.

However, just as the official finished speaking, before the air could completely freeze, a clear and firm voice suddenly resounded throughout the magnificent palace hall, clearly reaching the ears of everyone present:

"I have objections!"

Everyone's gaze, as if drawn by invisible threads, turned in unison to look in the direction of the sound.

Princess Elizabeth had emerged from the shadows beside the throne and was now standing in the center of the hall.

Her expression was calm and her eyes were serene as she spoke again, meeting countless gazes that were filled with astonishment, doubt, and scrutiny.

The voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear:

“As a princess of the Victorian royal family, I am entitled to an equal right to the throne according to the laws of succession.”

After a brief silence, an uncontrollable uproar erupted in the hall.

"You?" A plump nobleman who was nearby exclaimed in surprise, his face full of disbelief.

"Your Highness, are you joking?" another voice rang out with obvious sarcasm, drawing several low chuckles in agreement.

"Outrageous! This matter has already been decided jointly by the royal family and the council of nobles. How dare you, a princess, question it so casually?" A white-haired member of the royal family shouted sternly, his face filled with anger at maintaining order.

Even the old King Charles, sitting on his throne, was filled with disbelief and astonishment.

He clearly did not expect that Elizabeth, who had been excluded from the right of succession by everyone, would dare to openly challenge the established order on such a occasion.

Despite the pressure and doubts coming from all sides, Elizabeth remained calm and undaunted.

She straightened her back, her cold gaze sweeping over the faces that were either contemptuous or angry, and retorted in a chilling tone, almost questioning:
"Just because I didn't get the support and approval of you so-called big shots, you want to rudely exclude me from my rightful inheritance rights?"

Elizabeth's declaration of her intention to seize the throne was like a spark thrown into a powder keg, instantly igniting Prince Charles's long-suppressed anger.

He abruptly stepped forward from the crowd of supporters, his handsome face contorted with rage, pointed at Elizabeth's nose, and shouted in a shrill voice:
"who do you think You Are?!"

His voice echoed in the hall, filled with contempt and disdain:
"You're nothing but a lackey of that union leader, wagging his tail and begging for mercy."

Do they really think that by clinging to that powerful patron, they can covet Victoria's throne? Utterly foolish, utterly delusional!

He became increasingly agitated as he spoke, spitting as he tried to use the most cutting language to belittle Elizabeth in order to cover up his own exile caused by Elizabeth's schemes. "Don't even think about it, not even if the union leader behind you came in person, he could touch my Victorian royal succession or interfere in our internal affairs!"

"Really?"

Just as Prince Charles's voice seemed to tear the air apart, a calm and even voice quietly echoed in the hall.

The sound wasn't loud, but it seemed to resonate deep within everyone's soul.

In an instant, an indescribable chill, like an icy tide, silently surged into everyone's hearts.

Everyone felt a chill run down their spines and the hairs on the back of their necks stood on end. Instinctively, they all turned their gazes toward the magnificent, open palace gates.

There, a young man was standing.

He wore a well-tailored black tuxedo, simple in style yet exuding understated elegance, which accentuated his tall and straight posture.

However, what attracted everyone's attention was not his appearance, but the ancient and majestic scepter in his right hand.

Most of the nobles present may not recognize this suddenly appearing young man, but they are intimately familiar with the scepter in his hand.

That was the supreme symbol that the Victorian royal family had lost for a long time, the embodiment of the power of the royal path, and the scepter of the royal power representing the incomplete and unique nature of the royal path!

"It's Lu Yan!" A suppressed exclamation rang out from the crowd.

"Is he the one who killed Prince Rhine, Lu Yan?" More whispers spread like a plague, fear and awe intertwined on everyone's faces.

Lu Yan's gaze was calm and still, like a deep, cold pool, as he indifferently swept over Prince Charles, who had just been roaring hysterically.

With just that one glance, without any real exertion of pressure, Prince Charles froze as if he had been frozen in place.

The deep-seated fear he felt months ago when he faced Lu Yan in the ruins of White Manor swept over him again like a tidal wave.

He felt as if an invisible hand was gripping his throat, making him almost suffocate.

Beads of cold sweat, the size of soybeans, seeped uncontrollably from Charles's forehead and slid down his pale cheeks.

He had assumed that being in the heavily guarded palace hall, surrounded by powerful royal family members and noble allies, he would be able to muster the courage to no longer fear this menacing figure.

But when Lu Yan's figure actually appeared in front of him, he realized with despair how wrong he had been.

In the face of absolute power, so-called protection and courage are nothing but laughable illusions.

Lu Yan seemed to disregard Charles, his indifferent gaze lingering on him for only a moment before shifting away as if looking at a speck of dust on the roadside. He then strode unhurriedly toward the head of the palace hall, the area symbolizing supreme power.

Boom!
The scepter in his hand tapped lightly on the polished marble floor, producing a deep, rhythmic echo.

Immediately after that sound, an unbelievable scene unfolded.

Golden light, like molten lava, erupted from the ground beneath Lu Yan's feet without warning, rapidly condensing and shaping into an extremely luxurious golden throne in the blink of an eye.

This throne appeared out of nowhere at the end of the steps above the hall, its height and imposing presence subtly overshadowing the throne below that belonged to the current king.

Amidst the shocked gazes of everyone, Lu Yan calmly turned around, holding the scepter of kingship, and slowly sat down on the throne, which was entirely made of gold.

He leaned the scepter against his side, his gaze calmly sweeping over the silent crowd below, before his plain words rang out again, clearly reaching everyone's ears:

"continue!"

(End of this chapter)