Chapter 433: A Revenge Story?
The air inside the Emperor’s private study was calm, quiet and detached from the grandeur of the ceremony that had ended an hour ago.
The towering windows behind him let in the pale glow of sunlight, its golden sheen falling across the bookshelves, the polished desk, and the faint steam rising from the tea cups set before us.
Lucien sat opposite me in a white shirt and black trousers, simple clothes that stripped away the regality he carried so effortlessly in public.
Without the crown, without the robe, he seemed less like the ruler of the empire and more like a sharp-eyed man.
Hazel, by contrast, sat beside me, her posture relaxed. She had not bothered changing out of her training clothes, the faint smell of sweat still clinging to her as if to remind everyone that she wasn’t interested in anything else other than the war that was coming.
I lifted the cup of tea in my hand, its warmth settling against my palm. For a moment, no one spoke. It was Lucien who finally gestured for me to begin.
"You did not need to do that, Your Majesty," I said quietly, still unable to shake the image of him bowing his head in front of everyone.
Hazel immediately cut in before he could reply. "Why not? You deserved it. Maybe in a couple of years you’ll break into the next rank, and then you won’t be beneath anyone at all." Her eyes flicked to Lucien, sharp and mischievous, almost daring.
Lucien chuckled, shaking his head. "He is already beneath no one. I cannot measure his strength. But I am still the Emperor. If he wishes to stand above me, he need only to kill me and claim the throne."
The words were placed like a blade on the table. Hazel smirked faintly, as though amused, but my throat tightened. I coughed into my hand and quickly sipped my tea, ignoring the provocation altogether. Some things were better left unanswered.
Lucien’s gaze softened. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping the rim of his cup before he spoke again, this time slower, deliberate.
"Dante is working on a method to slip into the Peanu world. But there will be consequences. He will be weakened and unavailable for the battles ahead. Even so, we’ve chosen to proceed with his plan... because our trust lies in you, Billion."
I frowned. "Didn’t we already have a way in?"
"Yes," Lucien said, his voice steady.
"But that path only leads inward. Once Peanu notices intrusions, they will seal their world space. That would trap us inside with no guarantee of survival. I asked Dante to ensure we have a way back. There is no one better than him for such work. His success or failure will determine whether we will have a way out for ourselves if anything goes wrong."
If Dante failed, the invasion would become a one-way suicide march.
Lucien continued. "There is more. In seven days, the Ferans will arrive."
Hazel’s grip on her cup tightened, her knuckles whitening, but she said nothing.
"And before they do," Lucien added, "every Grandmaster from our world will move in for the assault. It has already been decided. No Masters will join, only Grandmasters. This battle will be all or nothing, a final measure. A do-or-die confrontation with Peanu."
The tea in my mouth suddenly felt bitter. The tension in the room thickened until Hazel abruptly stood up. Her chair scraped back against the polished floor.
"Then let me make something clear," she said, her voice low and sharp.
"I will take the head of Peanu’s emperor. That kill belongs to me. If anyone else gets their hands on him, you’d better hand him over to me."
Her declaration echoed in the silence. Without waiting for a reply, she turned and strode out, the door slamming shut behind her.
I exhaled slowly. Lucien didn’t look surprised. He simply sipped his tea, his expression unreadable, as though Hazel’s fire was something he had long accounted for.
I set my cup down. "Your Majesty," I said, steadying my tone, "I have a proposal."
His eyes flicked toward me, curious.
"I want to go in one day before everyone else," I said. "Alone. I’ll sneak into Peanu as a forward force. When the others arrive, I’ll already be inside, setting the ground for us."
Lucien’s gaze sharpened. "Are you confident?"
"Yes." My answer came without hesitation.
He leaned back, fingers steepled beneath his chin. For a long moment, he just stayed silent.
Then, at last, Lucien closed his eyes and exhaled. "Very well," he said. "Lets go with your plan. I will not ask too many details from you. But I expect the result that all of us want."
I bowed my head slightly. "Thank you."
He didn’t smile.
"Do not fail, Billion. If you fall, the empire falls with you."
I just nodded. The guy was taking things way too seriously. I knew what I was capable of now that I was closing in on level 300. But still, it showed how much he cared, how heavy the weight of the empire pressed on him.
I drew in a slow breath, then voiced the other thought that had been nagging at me. "Your Majesty... once we go through with this, are we prepared for how the Ferans will react? We still don’t even know why they targeted our world in the first place."
Lucien gave a single, measured nod.
"We’re already preparing for the repercussions. Edgar has reached out to several factions across the galaxy, spreading word about the Ferans and searching for any of their enemies who might stand with us. The delegation coming in seven days is just that, a delegation. If they truly want to wipe us out, it will take far more effort. We will not simply roll over."
He set his teacup down with quiet finality and rose from his chair.
"The Rayleigh family has never seen more than thirty or forty men at most. Because we die for the empire. Some on the battlefield. Some assassinated. Some captured and tortured in foreign lands. Yet still we’ve remained the royal line. And we will remain so until the end."
He turned, meeting my gaze directly, his voice harder now.
"We will end Peanu. We will stand against whoever else comes. But if we cannot..." He paused, eyes unwavering. "...then I will carve a path for you to live, so you may avenge us in the end. A revenge story, after all, always carries farther."