Lord: My Shop Connects to Modern Times

The morning sun shone into Dawn City, turning the entire capital city into a golden hue.

Today is the day the new king ascends the throne.

The streets were lined with onlookers.

The Imperial Guards were stationed every three steps and sentries every five steps, completely blocking the route from the Royal Palace to the Holy Light Cathedral.

The common people stood on tiptoe and craned their necks, trying to catch a glimpse of the fourth prince who was about to become the new king.

"I heard that the Fourth Prince is only nineteen this year?"

"Indeed, he's much younger than His Highness."

"Why did His Majesty choose him?"

"Who knows? How could we possibly fathom His Majesty's thoughts?"

In the crowd, a short figure wrapped in a gray cloak stood quietly.

Lia pulled her hood down further, covering her light blonde hair and slightly pointed ears.

She stood in the crowd, like a drop of water merging into a river.

"Sister Liya," a young man beside her whispered—it was Corbin—"Are we really going to watch this here?"

"Just watch from here." Lia glanced at him. "Don't forget, we're now legitimate citizens of Dawn City. What are we afraid of?"

This identity was bought by Lia from an information broker called "The Mole".

When I first came to the city, I was a refugee.

Seemingly used to his older sister's bossy personality, Corbin nodded and asked no more questions.

A bugle call sounded in the distance.

"Here it comes!"

The crowd stirred.

Lia stood on tiptoe and looked towards the royal palace.

A troop of cavalry appeared first, their silver armor gleaming in the sunlight—they were the Purifying Knights, but only a small troop; the majority were still fighting in the Eastern Territory.

Upon seeing the members of the Purifying Knights, Lia couldn't help but purse her lips.

She knew that there was a war in the Eastern Territory, and even though the battle was so intense, she still left a portion of her elite troops in the capital.

It's unclear whether it was for the safety of the capital or for the sake of so-called aristocratic etiquette.

Lia felt the latter was more likely.

As expected, nobles don't have any good stuff.

Besides Lynn...

Then came the honor guard, carrying banners embroidered with the Winster family crest. And then—

An open-top carriage slowly drove up.

There were two people sitting in the carriage.

One is the new king, George Winster.

He sat in the center of the carriage, dressed in a magnificent purple royal robe and wearing a crown studded with jewels.

The sunlight shone on his face, revealing a young, pale, and expressionless face.

Lia squinted.

The fourth prince, who is nineteen years old.

The intelligence she gathered mentioned him—he didn't like to talk, didn't like to go out, spent his days reading in the mansion, never participated in court politics, and never argued with his brothers about anything.

Some people in aristocratic circles privately called him "Your Highness the Bookworm".

But now, this "bookworm" is sitting in a carriage on his way to the cathedral for his coronation.

Leah thought Charles VI must be crazy to make the decision to make George king.

But George's expression looked a little off right now.

The other party seemed to show no signs of nervousness or excitement about the coronation ceremony.

He was like a statue placed there.

Sitting next to me is—

Lia's gaze shifted to the other side of the carriage.

A middle-aged man in a gray robe, with his head bowed and a humble smile on his face.

Morris.

The court physician, Charles VI's "spokesperson," now sits beside the new king.

Liya's heart tightened.

The new king has ascended the throne, but the old king is still alive. Why isn't the old king sitting next to him? Where is he?

And then there's this Morris.

She had investigated his information because of some rumors.

The other party's background was as clean as a blank sheet of paper—born of commoner origin, he studied at a charity school run by the Holy Light Church from a young age, later went to the Royal Medical College for further studies, and entered the Royal Palace as an ordinary doctor twenty years ago.

There was no bad record, no enemies, and nothing noteworthy about him.

If one were unaware of the rumors surrounding him and the old king, this would be perfectly normal intelligence.

But the key factors were the old king's illness and sudden abdication, and the fact that a court physician became the king's spokesperson.

These elements, when mixed together, make this seemingly ordinary intelligence report anything but ordinary.

The carriage slowly drove through the crowd, heading towards the cathedral.

George never turned his head to look at the crowd.

He just stared straight ahead, his gaze as empty as a blind man's.

……

Inside the cathedral.

Sunlight streamed through the glass windows, casting dappled shadows on the floor.

The enormous statue of Sovia stands behind the altar, bathed in seven-colored light, looking down upon the masses below.

The stands were packed with people.

The front row consists of several princes.

Alex sat in the first seat on the left, dressed in formal royal attire, his expression so calm that it revealed no emotion.

The seat next to him was empty.

That's where the second brother sits.

He glanced at the empty seat, then looked away.

Edmund, the third brother, sat a little further away, unusually free of his usual cynical expression today. He had his head down, lost in thought.

Behind him were various nobles.

Earl Sutherland, the representative of the Duke of the West, sat in a seat near the front, his expression serious, his gaze occasionally sweeping across the hall.

Several nobles from the North gathered together, whispering amongst themselves, their faces betraying their discontent—the second prince had died last night, supposedly for "treason."

The person they supported is gone, yet today they're here to support the fourth prince.

The people from the Ministry of War also looked grim.

Two officers died last night, both from the Ministry of War. They were seething with anger, but no one dared to say anything at this time.

The Chancellor's deputy sat in a corner, saying nothing.

Duke Ivan of the Southern Territory did not come; he only sent a representative.

There wasn't even a representative from the Eastern Territory—Grand Duke Rhodes was busy fighting monsters at the border and had no time to deal with things in the capital.

There are also people from the Mage Association.

Three of them came, but they seemed to know nothing about what happened last night.

Alex knows why.

What happened last night has been kept completely under wraps.

The official account is that Prince Alfred, the second prince, attempted a rebellion, led troops into the palace, and was killed by guards.

As for those monsters, and those who died mysteriously—none of them.

Morris kept the news tightly under wraps.

Those who know the truth either die, or, like him, dare not speak out.

The bugle sounded.

Everyone stand up.

The door behind the altar opened, and the archbishop slowly walked out, followed by the new king, George.

George walked to the altar and knelt down.

The archbishop began reciting prayers, his voice echoing through the empty cathedral.

As the prayer was finished, the archbishop lifted the crown from the altar.

That crown is a sacred relic passed down through generations of the Winster family. Legend has it that it was forged from the sword of the first king and is inlaid with a warm-colored gemstone, representing the blessing of the Goddess of Light to the Dawn Empire.

The archbishop held the crown aloft on George's head.

"George Winster," the archbishop's voice was solemn and dignified, "are you willing to inherit the throne of the Dawn Empire, become the master of this land, protect your people, and defend your homeland?"

George looked up.

"I do."

The sound was very soft and flat, without any inflection.

The archbishop frowned slightly—traditionally, the new king should answer in a louder voice so that everyone could hear.

But George simply said that, then lowered his head and waited for the crown to fall.

The archbishop hesitated for a moment, but still placed the crown on his head.

"May Sovia, the Goddess of Light, bless you, Your Majesty George VII."

George stood up and turned to face everyone.

The sunlight shone on his face, making his young, pale features glow. The crown on his head was a bit too big and looked rather unstable.

Alex looked at that face and suddenly felt a sense of unfamiliarity.

Was that really George?

He remembered when he was a child, George fell down and cried. He ran over and picked him up. George sobbed and said, "Big brother, it hurts."

At that time, George's eyes were bright and shining.

But now, there's nothing in those eyes.

Like two dry wells.

Alex even had a bizarre thought: was it possible that his younger brother, like their father, was also a "fake"?

"Long live Your Majesty!"

At this moment, someone took the lead in shouting.

Then came cheers that rose and fell.

"Long live His Majesty King George VII!"

"Long live!"

George stood before the altar, receiving cheers from everyone.

His expression remained calm and composed.

……

In the crowd, Lia gazed in the direction of the cathedral from afar.

She couldn't get in—only nobles and ministers were allowed in that kind of setting. But she could see what was happening at the doorway.

A new king has emerged.

He stood on the steps, receiving the nobles' oath of allegiance.

Lia's gaze fell on his face.

The nineteen-year-old king was dressed in purple and wore an ill-fitting crown.

His face was so white, it was almost unrecognizable.

His eyes were empty, so empty that they didn't seem to be looking at anything.

Lia squinted.

She'd seen that look before.

On the faces of those who miraculously survived attacks by monsters—the trauma was so great that while their bodies remained alive, their souls were gone.

But to see that look on the face of a newly enthroned king?

Not right.

"Sister Leah," Corbin whispered, "that new king..."

"I saw it," Lia interrupted him.

She stared at George for a long time, then turned away.

"Walk."

The two squeezed out of the crowd and turned into a side alley.

"Sister Lia," Corbin couldn't help but ask, "Is there something wrong with that new king...?"

Lia retorted irritably, "Of course there's a problem. Have you ever seen anyone about to ascend to the pinnacle of power in a kingdom act like that?"

Corbyn choked on his food, gave an awkward laugh, and said nothing more.

Lia didn't say anything more; her mind was racing.

The new king's behavior is not quite right.

The old king's condition improved, and he abdicated.

And then there's Maurice, a court physician who now holds an extraordinary position...

Everything seemed eerie.

"Before tonight," she lowered her voice, "compile all the intelligence gathered in the last few days. Send it back to Grayrock Town first thing tomorrow morning."

"Yes."

The two quickened their pace and disappeared into the depths of the alley.