Chapter 421: Chaotic Aftermath Of A Failed Court Session.
The towering doors of the Royal Court slammed open with a deafening boom as Damian strode out without looking back, his long black robes billowing behind him with every furious step.
The ministers still inside instinctively turned toward the sound, yet none dared call out to him. His expression had grown colder than when he entered, and the violet slits within his pitch black eyes flickered erratically between violet and crimson as though something beneath the surface was struggling to break free.
The meeting had ended far differently than he had anticipated. He had believed he had cornered both the Minister of War and the Grand Chancellor with an argument so simple even they could not refute it. Instead, over half the court had risen in opposition. By doing so, they had transformed what should have been a straightforward military order into a matter requiring prolonged deliberation.
The majority of the realm’s military command still answered to those two men. Unless his decision appeared completely fair and beyond reasonable doubt, forcing the issue now would only give them justification to paint him as an unreasonable tyrant before the rest of the realm.
Once again his hands felt tied.
"Huff..."
Damian exhaled deeply, trying to suppress the frustration boiling inside him. Every breath left his chest heavier than the last while his eyes continued alternating between crimson and violet.
Behind him, dozens of court attendants and towering eunuchs hurried after their Prince, struggling to keep pace without appearing disorderly. None of them dared speak. They simply followed, fearing that even the slightest interruption might provoke his anger further.
He descended the broad staircase leading away from the Grand Court and headed directly toward the magnificent royal carriage waiting below.
Four enormous black wolves clad in ornate violet armor pawed impatiently at the stone pavement, their crimson eyes following their master’s every movement. The beasts stood nearly as tall as ordinary horses, their breaths producing clouds of dark mist despite the pleasant weather.
Several moments later, the doors of the Royal Court opened once again.
Minister Amon and Grand Chancellor Dabin emerged side by side with their usual composed expressions, their eyes following Damian’s retreating figure as servants hurried to open the carriage door for him. Neither of them spoke immediately.
"The Prince will not be easily subdued," Dabin finally remarked, adjusting the cloth wrapped across the place where his eyes should have been.
"Of course," Amon replied calmly. "He stubbornly clung to his homeworld in a contest against several deities even as a mortal. It is only natural that he clings just as fiercely to what little authority he believes still belongs to him."
"The sooner His Majesty learns to rely upon us, the better this realm shall prosper."
"The only people His Majesty needs to rely upon are his wives and his in laws."
A cold feminine voice interrupted them from behind.
Both men slowly turned.
Three elderly figures approached together, each wearing luxurious ministerial robes embroidered with symbols representing their respective clans.
Leading them was Lady Lilith of the Kitsune Clan. Though age had claimed much of her beauty, layers of expensive cosmetics concealed the wrinkles across her face while streaks of gray intertwined naturally with her crimson hair beneath an elaborate ministerial headdress. Her frail figure disappeared beneath flowing robes, yet the confidence within her smile remained unmistakable.
Beside her walked Malakor of the Nagen Clan, a broad shouldered giant whose dark brown skin was covered by patches of emerald scales that shimmered beneath the palace lights. Every step he took carried immense weight.
On the opposite side strode Sargathis of the Succubi Clan. His face was meticulously painted, his lips darkened, his nails polished and impossibly long lashes framed eyes lined with elegant cosmetics. His appearance possessed an unnatural beauty that blurred the boundary between masculine and feminine.
"Your legions will vacate the capital," Lady Lilith declared with a mocking smile. "There is nothing either of you can do to prevent it."
Amon remained completely unmoved.
"Lady Lilith appears to have overlooked one important detail."
His voice remained as calm as ever.
"His Majesty acknowledged neither his wives nor their families during today’s court session."
The smile immediately disappeared from Lilith’s face.
"He acknowledged our daughters as his wives," Malakor answered in a deep voice. "That alone is enough. So long as they remain beside him, our families remain protected."
"Do not mistake your current predicament for ours," Sargathis added with a confident smile. "Unlike the two of you, we remain within His Majesty’s favor."
Grand Chancellor Dabin allowed a faint smile to appear beneath the cloth covering his empty eye sockets.
"Must I remind the three of you that your daughters have yet to marry His Majesty?"
Silence immediately followed.
"As I understand it the woman His Majesty was seen embracing throughout the capital today was his concubine."
He paused deliberately.
"So tell me... What reason has His Majesty to keep your daughters?"
"The Kasok Princess already possesses his affection. The Kasok Clan itself surpasses the combined influence of your three houses. From where I stand... I see no obstacle preventing His Majesty from abandoning your daughters altogether and elevating Lady Rah as his principal queen."
Buzz!
All three Viscount Patriarchs visibly stiffened. Their expressions darkened almost instantly.
Amon calmly folded his arms.
"Prepare yourselves. I suspect the next court session shall mark the beginning of the Kasok Clan’s rise within Velmora."
His words carried neither mockery nor excitement, only certainty as he slowly turned away.
"We shall not be the only ones whose authority this young Prince seeks to dismantle."
Without waiting for a reply, Amon and Grand Chancellor Dabin calmly departed together, leaving the three Viscount Patriarchs standing motionless within the corridor.
None of them spoke. They simply watched Damian’s carriage disappear into the distance.
For the first time since hearing of the Prince’s awakening, worry settled heavily upon each of their faces.
Meanwhile, inside the royal carriage...
Bam!
Damian slammed his fist into the cushion beside him with enough force to shake the entire carriage.
The luxurious seat barely moved. Not even a tear appeared across the expensive fabric. He stared at it for several seconds before letting out another exhausted breath.
These demonic furnishings truly were impressive. Back on Earth he constantly restrained himself for fear of destroying everything around him.
Here he could vent his frustrations without reducing the furniture to splinters.
"Calm yourself, Your Majesty."
William remained seated opposite him with the same composed expression he always wore.
"The battle has not been lost. At the very least half of their forces shall eventually be compelled to leave the capital."
Damian slowly turned toward him and shook his head.
"It isn’t failure that angers me."
He looked back through the carriage window where ordinary demons continued walking peacefully through the capital’s streets.
"It’s this feeling of helplessness. How am I supposed to rule a realm where nearly everyone stands against me?"
The faces outside the carriage blurred together. Every noble, official and soldier looked like potential enemies.
William quietly listened before answering.
"Power is intoxicating. Once someone has held it for long enough few willingly surrender it."
He adjusted the thick book resting upon his lap.
"That is why allowing a throne to remain vacant is among the greatest mistakes any kingdom can make."
Damian remained silent. Then another thought crossed his mind.
"And you?"
William looked up.
"Don’t you desire power?"
A rare smile briefly crossed the old Chamberlain’s face.
"I already possess every bit of power I require."
He answered without hesitation.
"As the man closest to Your Majesty, my family enjoys privileges beyond the reach of nearly every noble house. We are educated by the finest scholars. We receive generous compensation. Every official treats us with respect. Everyone except Your Majesty, of course."
Damian couldn’t help smiling faintly.
"What more could a man possibly desire?"
"The throne."
The answer escaped Damian almost instinctively.
William actually laughed.
"Sire... I have lived long enough to witness two Princes fall."
His smile gradually disappeared.
"I mean no disrespect... but I much prefer the comfortable and relatively danger free life my family has enjoyed for tens of thousands of years."
Damian slowly leaned back against the carriage.
William did not reject the throne because he lacked ambition. He rejected it because he valued something far greater.
Choice.
Unlike Damian William still possessed the freedom to choose the life he wished to live. If someone offered him that same choice, he would return to Earth without a second thought.