Chapter 268: The Frenche Empire (1)

The security checks at the Imperial Palace gates were immediately suspended.

Moments later, a carriage raced out of the palace, whisked Louis and his party away, and disappeared into the distance.

No sooner had the carriage departed than the attendants who had witnessed the commotion rushed to inform their masters about what had transpired at the main gate.

“Pablo Kwon Frenche?”

“Nonsense! If he were still alive, he’d be well over 300 years old!”

“The White Dragon Ring? Are you saying the White Dragon Ring has reappeared?”

With countless witnesses to the scene at the main gate, the rumors spread like wildfire.

Meanwhile, Count Miles, who was personally escorting Louis and his party in their carriage, wore a grim expression.

It was undoubtedly the White Dragon Ring.

One of only three such rings in the Empire’s history, a symbol of the Frenze Imperial Family that could only unlock its full power when worn by a direct descendant of the imperial lineage.

One ring was held by the reigning Emperor, and another by the Crown Prince, the first in line to the throne.

The whereabouts of the final White Dragon Ring remained a mystery…

Could the rumors be true…?

The Imperial Court had long passed down tales of how the last White Dragon Ring had disappeared with the Emperor of Conquest when he vanished without a trace one day.

The rumor persisted that the Emperor of Conquest would one day reappear, bearing the White Dragon Ring.

From what I’ve seen… that White Dragon Ring is undoubtedly genuine.

However, definitively determining its authenticity was beyond his authority. He turned to his subordinate and asked in a low voice, “Have you sent word to His Majesty?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. The messenger should have arrived by now.”

“Good.”

Whether the White Dragon Ring was real or not, and whether the man claiming to be the Emperor of Conquest, Pablo Kwon Frenche, was truly who he claimed to be—that decision now rested with the Emperor.

And if the figure in that carriage truly was the Emperor of Conquest, Pablo Kwon Frenche…

”…The Empire is about to be thrown into turmoil.”

At the very heart of the Imperial Palace, nestled in the most strategic location surrounded by all its buildings, lay a vast chamber.

Countless attendants swarmed around a man, meticulously adjusting his attire. Each of them had endured at least a decade within the palace walls, and their posture betrayed a deep-seated fear and extreme caution.

”…Enough,” the man said in a solemn voice. The attendants hurriedly bowed their heads and retreated.

“Hmm…”

Even as he stood motionless, emitting only a low hum, a palpable aura of authority permeated the air around him.

He was a towering figure, standing at an imposing 190 centimeters tall. His thick, golden hair bore a slight curl, and his robust physique and subtly overwhelming presence left no doubt of his status.

He was the current sovereign of the Frenche Empire and ruler of the vast Summer Continent—Emperor Ivan Kuan Frenche, known as the Golden Lion.

After briefly checking his reflection in the mirror, the Emperor tossed a question over his shoulder without turning around. “How are the preparations for the Unification Festival progressing?”

A wizened voice replied from one side of the room, “They are flawless, Your Majesty.”

“This marks the 150th celebration of Continental Unification’s grandeur. It must be more splendid than ever before.”

“I shall keep that in mind,” Chamberlain Count Zoltan replied, bowing deeply at the Emperor’s command. Zoltan had managed all ceremonies and schedules of the Imperial Palace since the reign of the previous emperor.

Just then…

Thud, thud, thud.

Urgent footsteps echoed from outside the door.

“Your Majesty, Vice-Commander Detlef Botten of the Imperial Guard urgently requests an audience.”

The Emperor’s brow furrowed in confusion. Vice-Commander Detlef Botten? Normally, Count Miles himself, the Commander, would have come. Count Miles had never sent a subordinate on matters concerning the Imperial Guard before. Why the Vice-Commander now?

This must mean the Commander is unable to leave his post.

“Admit him,” the Emperor commanded.

The Vice-Commander, clad in full armor, entered.

“Loyalty!”

The Vice-Commander knelt at the entrance, bowing his head. The Emperor turned to face him.

“What’s going on? Where’s Count Miles?” the Emperor demanded.

“Count Miles is escorting a guest to the Imperial Palace,” the Vice-Commander replied.

“Escorting a guest? Count Miles himself?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Disbelief and a hint of anger flickered across the Emperor’s face. “The chief of the Imperial Guard, responsible for the Imperial Court’s security, is merely escorting a guest?”

“Well…” The Vice-Commander lowered his head further, stammering under the Emperor’s mounting anger. “The person Count Miles is escorting claims to be Emperor of Conquest, Pablo Kwon Frenche. Furthermore, he possesses the White Dragon Ring.”

”…What?” The Emperor’s eyes widened with confusion and bewilderment as he absorbed the Vice-Commander’s report.

Despite carrying seven adults, the spacious carriage rolled smoothly toward the Imperial Palace.

Clop-clop…

The only sound inside the carriage was the rhythmic clatter of horse hooves, leaving the interior shrouded in silence.

Kani sat cradling the sleeping Ariana, her face radiant with happiness. Khan watched the pair with a hint of envy.

On the other side of the carriage, Pablo sat brimming with self-importance. Opposite him, Kendrick, Tania, and Lavina whispered among themselves.

”…Did you hear? They said that mister is supposed to be a king.”

“Didn’t they call him the Emperor of Conquest earlier?”

“Unbelievable…”

“Honestly, wasn’t his position as a great warrior on the Winter Continent all thanks to Louis?”

Though their whispers were quiet, Pablo couldn’t possibly have missed them.

“Ahem!” Pablo cleared his throat uncomfortably, prompting the trio to quickly pull their heads apart.

Pablo crossed his arms and said, “If you have any questions, just ask me directly.”

Kendrick, Tania, and Lavina stared blankly at each other, then back at Pablo. After a moment of awkward silence, Lavina raised her hand.

“Mister, were you really a king?”

“I was a king.”

”…Really?”

“Why? Don’t you believe I could be a king?”

“No.”

“Of course not.”

“What about you looks like a king? You look more like a bandit.”

”…”

Pablo was speechless at the trio’s blunt and unanimous response. After a moment of stunned silence, he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Ahem. Well, I wasn’t born a king.”

“Then how did you become one?”

“My late wife… Page, she was the crown princess of this kingdom. I was her royal consort.”

“Holy crap?! You were married?! To a princess?! That’s even more unbelievable than you being a king!”

”…”

The Flame siblings nodded vigorously, as if agreeing with Lavina’s story.

Fin, watching them, chuckled. “Louis was the one who brought Page and Pablo together. More precisely, he created the circumstances that allowed Page to marry Pablo.”

“Of course.”

“That figures.”

Pablo turned away from the three people nodding with smug satisfaction.

Tania squinted at him. “Are you sulking?”

“S-sulking?! Not at all!” Pablo snapped indignantly.

But his sulkiness was plain for all to see.

“Heh heh. So how did you become king?” Fin asked.

“It wasn’t a big deal. The Frenche Kingdom was so weak back then that it was constantly being invaded. They kept barging in and beating us up… so we got fed up and invaded them instead.”

”…”

“Well, surprisingly, our kingdom fought better than expected. So, figuring it was a good opportunity to secure some extra land for my son, I marched into the Frenche Kingdom, the country that had invaded us, and wreaked some havoc. Before I knew it, people started trusting me and following my lead.”

Pablo recounted his tale of conquest as casually as if he were explaining how his son had been bullied and he’d stormed over to the neighbor’s house to give them a piece of his mind.

The listener was incredulous, but Pablo remained utterly serious.

“Seeing all this, my father-in-law, the king at the time, abdicated the throne in my favor. That’s how I became king. I diligently invaded other kingdoms, making sure they’d never dare to underestimate Frenche again. By the time I snapped out of it… people were calling me the Emperor of Conquest.”

“Just how much territory did you have to conquer for people to call you the Emperor of Conquest?”

“By the time I left the Frenche Kingdom, we had conquered about 80% of the Summer Continent.”

“Wow…”

“The unification of the entire continent was probably achieved by my son or a later descendant.”

The Flame siblings and Lavina were completely absorbed in Pablo’s story.

As they listened intently, Louis wore a deeply troubled expression.

Noticing his distress, Fin cautiously asked, “What’s wrong? Is something the matter?”

Louis answered gravely, “I swear, this is the first time in my life I’ve ever felt such an overwhelming sense of defeat.”

“Huh?” Fin tilted her head in confusion.

Ignoring Fin’s reaction, Louis was lost in thought, replaying the scene at the main gate earlier.

The moment Pablo produced the ring and it manifested its symbol, the guards knelt in unison, creating a tableau worthy of a painting.

Simultaneously, Louis recalled his own humiliating rejection when he had tried to enter the tower, being turned away at the door.

Pablo… even someone like Pablo gets instant recognition.

As a dragon, Louis had endured countless trials and tribulations just to be acknowledged as the Lord of the Tower.

The realization filled him with a peculiar sense of defeat.

Damn that old geezer!

Louis’s resentment turned toward Dexter, who had handed him nothing more than a worthless piece of scrap metal as proof of his status.

He vowed to himself:

I’ll forge something far more magnificent than Pablo’s trash!

Something that screams “I am the Lord of the Tower!” at a single glance!

As Louis burned with solitary competitiveness, a voice called from outside, “We have arrived.” The carriage door swung open.

Louis and his party disembarked and strode forward, guided by Count Miles. Finally, they reached a place where a colossal gate loomed before them.

The gate was adorned with pristine white marble and gemstones of every imaginable hue. At its very center, the White Dragon of Zaan spread its wings as if poised for flight. Even at a glance, it was clear that no ordinary artisan could have crafted it.

Its immense value surely matched the extraordinary effort that had gone into its creation.

Though merely the entrance to the Great War chamber, this single gate—a portal for momentous affairs—eloquently proclaimed the grandeur of the Frenche Empire in its era.

Yet, despite its splendor, something about the gate deeply unsettled Louis.

“Pablo.”

“Yes?”

“Something’s been bothering me for a while now.”

”…?”

“Why have I been seeing so many white dragons with amethyst eyes everywhere lately?”

Just moments ago, there was the ring Pablo possessed and the image it conjured. And now, even the gates of the Imperial Court… The White Dragon of Zaan kept appearing.

Louis’s gaze narrowed suspiciously. “That’s… your doing, isn’t it?”

Pablo flinched at Louis’s quiet accusation. “W-what are you talking about? I have no idea what you mean…”

Pablo subtly averted his eyes.

But that only confirmed Louis’s suspicions. This bastard was responsible for making a dragon that looked like him the symbol of the Frenche Empire.

Just what has this guy been up to?

Louis glared at Pablo, who desperately avoided his gaze. Their silent struggle continued for a moment.

Creak…

The massive doors slowly swung open, revealing the interior.

“Wow…”

“It’s huge.”

The chamber was as vast as the doors themselves. Along the central aisle of the Great War Hall, rows of figures resembling the Imperial Guard stood at attention.

At the end of the long aisle, atop a raised platform, stood the Emperor—the ruler of the Summer Continent.

Pablo recognized him instantly and strode forward before Mailer could even offer to guide him.

Louis and his party followed close behind Pablo.

The warriors flanking the path turned their gazes upon them.

Thud, thud, thud…

When they were just three meters from the Emperor’s dais, the man who had forged the glory of the past stood face to face with the man who now basked in its light.

The moment Louis saw the Emperor, he knew:

”…This isn’t going to be easy.”

Though the Emperor was undeniably of Pablo’s lineage, his bloodline had been diluted to the point of near insignificance.

Looks like I can’t just take this for granted.

With such thinned blood, manipulating him as easily as Pablo would be impossible.

What should I do?

As Louis briefly pondered, Pablo turned to the Emperor and spoke, his voice rising to address him:

“How long are you going to keep looking down on me?”