Chapter 128: Chapter 121: Beneath the Crown of Asterion

Snow continued falling across the capital through the night.

The Estate of Silvermere remained brightly illuminated beneath royal lanterns while Elarion soldiers maintained rotating patrols across the surrounding grounds. Even late into the evening—

The estate resembled a fortified military headquarters more than temporary noble lodging.

Artillery crews inspected equipment continuously.

Supply officers reorganized inventory manifests.

Northern guards monitored every road surrounding the estate.

No one within Elarion trusted the capital enough to relax completely.

Especially not before Lucien’s audience with the king.

Inside the estate—

Warm firelight illuminated a large strategy chamber where maps of the capital rested across a long wooden table.

Lucien stood silently beside one of the windows observing snowfall beyond the estate grounds while Malen calmly reviewed security reports nearby.

Gandalf, meanwhile—

Looked deeply offended by noble clothing.

The old wizard stared suspiciously at the dark formal robes laid across a nearby chair.

"I refuse."

Malen didn’t even look up.

"You are attending the royal palace."

"I survived ancient wars."

"Yes."

"And now I am apparently expected to wear decorative fabric."

Lucien finally glanced toward him.

"You wore ceremonial robes before."

"That was centuries ago."

Gandalf sounded genuinely irritated.

"I had standards back then."

Malen calmly folded another report.

"You still look homeless regardless."

The old wizard looked personally betrayed afterward.

Outside—

The distant growl of the Warhound echoed faintly through the snowy night while soldiers rotated patrol positions around the estate perimeter.

The capital had not slept peacefully since Elarion arrived.

Rumors spread constantly through taverns and noble districts alike.

Some claimed Lucien commanded forbidden technology.

Others claimed the Warhound was powered by imprisoned demons.

A few even insisted the northern lord controlled dragons personally.

The more the kingdom discussed Elarion—

The less anyone understood it.

Inside the chamber—

Malen finally placed several documents onto the table.

"Updated political assessments."

Lucien turned away from the window calmly.

Malen continued immediately.

"The Old Noble Coalition remains unsettled."

"No surprise."

"Yes."

Malen nodded slightly.

"But they are divided."

That finally interested Lucien slightly.

"How."

"The older houses prefer containment."

Through?

"Economic restrictions."

"Political isolation."

"and pressure through the royal court."

Malen pointed toward another report.

"The younger nobles appear more opportunistic."

Lucien’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"They want industrial access."

"Correct."

Malen folded his arms calmly.

"Several merchant-aligned noble houses are already discussing potential cooperation with Elarion factories."

Gandalf snorted quietly nearby.

"Predictable."

The old wizard finally sat down heavily.

"Fear creates resistance."

"But profit?"

A faint grin appeared on his face.

"Profit creates loyalty remarkably quickly."

Lucien remained silent.

Because that part was true.

Industrialization changed power structures faster than warfare alone ever could.

Factories generated wealth.

Wealth generated influence.

And influence reshaped politics.

The Warhound frightened nobles.

But Elarion’s production capacity frightened them far more.

Malen continued quietly.

"The Church remains neutral publicly." 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"Publicly?"

The old wizard answered instead.

"The Church never reveals its real position immediately."

Gandalf leaned backward slightly.

"They observe first."

"And once they fully understand the situation..."

His expression became more serious.

"...then they decide whether to support history or resist it."

Silence settled briefly afterward.

Then Malen placed another report onto the table.

"The military situation inside the capital is becoming more complicated."

Lucien calmly picked up the document.

Several younger officers within the royal academies had already begun studying Elarion battlefield tactics aggressively.

Lucien’s eyes remained calm while reading.

Malen continued.

"The younger generation admires Elarion."

"The older commanders resent it."

Gandalf chuckled softly.

"Which means the kingdom is behaving exactly like every kingdom in history whenever warfare evolves."

The old wizard looked toward Lucien afterward.

"The old guard always believes tradition itself guarantees superiority."

"And then reality arrives."

Outside—

Snowfall gradually intensified across the capital.

The city lights beyond the estate flickered beneath winter winds while royal patrols continued moving through the surrounding districts carefully.

The capital was tense.

Everyone could feel it.

Lucien slowly returned the military report onto the table.

"The king."

Malen immediately understood the question.

"Still difficult to evaluate."

Gandalf sighed quietly.

"Alaric Vaelthron is intelligent."

"That alone makes him dangerous."

The old wizard’s expression became more thoughtful.

"He is not blinded by noble arrogance like the Old Coalition."

"He understands adaptation."

"He studies power carefully."

"And unlike most rulers..."

Gandalf’s eyes narrowed faintly.

"...he listens."

Lucien remained silent.

That was dangerous indeed.

A foolish ruler was predictable and what can be predicted can also be manipulated.

But an intelligent ruler became complicated.

Malen finally spoke again.

"The audience tomorrow will determine political direction."

"Yes."

Gandalf nodded slowly.

"The entire kingdom understands that already."

Because tomorrow’s meeting was not merely ceremonial.

It was evaluation.

The Crown evaluating Elarion.

And Elarion evaluating the Crown.

Neither side fully trusted the other yet.

Which made tomorrow extremely important.

Far above the capital—

Within the highest royal tower—

Ancient magical circles illuminated the darkness softly.

The Royal Guardian stood silently beside an enormous open window while snowstorms twisted around the tower exterior far below.

Several reports rested untouched nearby.

The old mage’s eyes remained fixed toward the distant Estate of Silvermere.

Toward the Warhound.

Toward Lucien.

Then quietly—

"A strange existence..."

The surrounding mana trembled faintly afterward.

Because even the Royal Guardian could not fully understand Lucien.

Morning arrived beneath gray winter skies.

The capital awakened early.

Actually far earlier than usual.

Because everyone knew the royal audience would happen today.

Crowds already gathered across roads leading toward the royal district while nobles quietly maneuvered politically behind closed doors attempting to gather information.

Who would support Lucien?

Who opposed him?

And what did the Crown truly intend?

Nobody knew.

Inside the Estate of Silvermere—

Preparation had already begun before sunrise.

Northern soldiers polished armor carefully while estate servants hurried throughout the manor organizing formal arrangements for the audience.

Malen calmly adjusted black formal attire while reviewing security assignments simultaneously.

Lucien stood nearby dressed in dark noble clothing decorated minimally with Elarion insignia.

The style itself contrasted sharply against traditional southern nobility.

Gandalf finally entered the chamber afterward looking deeply irritated.

"These robes are cursed."

Malen glanced toward him briefly.

"They are clean."

"That is part of the curse."

Lucien ignored them both.

Outside—

A royal convoy had already arrived.

Elite royal guards waited silently beneath House Vaelthron banners while a heavily reinforced carriage stood prepared near the estate entrance.

The king was not treating this casually.

Even the escort reflected that clearly.

Malen quietly approached Lucien afterward.

"Everything is prepared."

Lucien nodded once.

Then the northern delegation finally departed the estate.

The roads leading toward the royal district had already been cleared by royal authority.

Yet despite that—

Thousands still gathered along distant streets attempting to witness the procession.

The convoy continued deeper into the royal district.

Gradually—

The architecture changed.

Massive noble estates disappeared behind increasingly fortified structures while royal banners became more common throughout the streets.

Then finally—

The Royal Palace appeared.

Even Lucien quietly studied it for several moments.

The palace of House Vaelthron did not resemble decorative southern aristocracy.

Enormous white stone walls rose high above the capital while countless magical barriers shimmered faintly beneath winter skies. Massive towers overlooked every district surrounding the palace grounds while elite royal guards maintained perfect formation across layered defensive positions.

This was not merely a king’s residence.

It was the center of Asterion’s power.

And unlike many royal families—

House Vaelthron clearly remembered that power survived through strength first.

The convoy finally slowed near the primary palace gates.

Elite royal guards immediately surrounded the area while mages quietly observed from elevated positions above the walls.

The atmosphere became heavier instantly.

Even the air itself felt tense.

Now-

Two powers were meeting directly for the first time.

The gates slowly opened.

And the convoy entered the palace grounds.

The inner palace district was enormous.

Snow-covered gardens stretched between towering administrative halls while ancient statues of former kings overlooked massive stone courtyards decorated with royal banners.

Everywhere—

Royal guards stood watch silently.

Their discipline impressed even several Elarion officers.

These were not decorative palace soldiers.

These were elite veterans.

The royal convoy eventually stopped before the central palace entrance.

Then silence settled completely.

Snow drifted softly across the courtyard while palace attendants lined the enormous staircase leading toward the entrance halls.

Lucien exited first.

The moment he stepped onto the palace grounds—

Every gaze shifted toward him immediately.

Everyone watched silently.

Because this was the man currently reshaping political discussions across the kingdom.

Malen descended beside him calmly while Gandalf followed shortly afterward still looking deeply suspicious of noble robes.

The old wizard quietly muttered:

"If anyone attempts ceremonial dancing during this audience, I am leaving."

Malen looked toward him blankly.

"That has never happened in royal audiences."

"You never know with nobles."

Before the conversation could continue—

A palace official approached respectfully.

"Lord Lucien of Elarion."

The man bowed deeply.

"His Majesty awaits you within the Hall of Crowns."

Lucien nodded calmly.

Then—

The delegation finally entered the royal palace.

The interior of the palace felt ancient.

Massive marble pillars stretched high toward vaulted ceilings covered with murals depicting centuries of Asterion history while magical lanterns illuminated enormous corridors lined with royal banners.

Yet despite the beauty—

The palace atmosphere felt heavy.

This place was designed to remind visitors exactly where authority resided.

Their footsteps echoed softly across polished stone floors while royal guards escorted them deeper into the palace interior.

Several nobles and officials quietly observed from distant corridors while whispers spread rapidly through nearby halls.

Lucien ignored all of it.

His expression never changed once.

Eventually—

The escort stopped before enormous golden doors guarded by elite royal knights.

The Hall of Crowns.

The atmosphere shifted immediately.

Even Gandalf became slightly more serious now.

The palace official slowly turned toward Lucien.

"His Majesty awaits."

Then—

The doors opened.

Slowly.

And beyond them—

Upon the elevated throne beneath the banners of House Vaelthron—

Sat the ruler of Asterion.

King Alaric Vaelthron.

And the moment Lucien saw him—

He immediately understood something important.

This was not a weak king surviving through inherited authority.

This was the real deal.

Sharp silver eyes observed Lucien calmly from the throne while the entire Hall of Crowns remained utterly silent around them.

The first meeting between the Crown of Asterion—

And the man changing its future—

Had finally begun.