Read Novel Full Chapter 732 - 409: Home Stolen
Chapter 732 - 409: Home Stolen
The storm continued to batter the Imperial Capital, yet within the temporary residence of the Graystone Province envoy in the capital, it was silent as if isolated from the outside world.
Raymont sat by the fireplace, calm and composed, not at all like someone who had just participated in an upheaval against the Empire.
Unlike the Second Prince, whose eyes burned red in the Imperial Hall, his fingers didn’t bear a trace of blood.
It could be said that Raymont was the biggest beneficiary of this coup.
Years of planning resembled a grand chessboard, with the nobility, the princes, the legion commanders all mere pawns being pushed around.
Rhine was too soft, Kaelin too impulsive; only he stood outside the board, securing everything with the most prudent posture.
He even felt a slight joy rising in his heart...
The Empire, so vast, so ancient, had been easily grasped by him alone.
And those royal offspring who prided themselves as clever, focused so intently on that throne, never realizing the true source of power.
On the table were several of the latest appointment documents laid out.
One of them read: Raymont Grace, granted the title of Empire "Hereditary Grand Marshal."
The paper, cold and solemn, held a title not bestowed upon any noble in the past five hundred years.
This meant he gained the legal authority to command all imperial legions except the Forbidden Guard.
Not just symbolically, but the kind of power that could have Knight Order commanders mount their horses in action upon receiving orders.
On the other end of the table was a brand-new map of the Empire.
Three counties were shaded in the color of Graystone Province.
They were the fertile three counties surrounding the capital, the core of the Empire’s granaries.
The Second Prince fulfilled his promise, handing over the Empire’s most fertile lands to him.
Graystone Knights would garrison there, stockpile grain, train soldiers, and expand their planned new army.
Yet Raymont reached out and pushed the golden rewards aside.
These pages recorded titles, medals, gemstones, territories... enough to drive all the capital’s nobility mad with desire.
But to Raymont, they were like candies scattered for children during festivals, good only for tempting fools who’ve never seen the world.
The one thing he truly longed to take was within a Black Iron Box by his left hand.
The first layer contained all the exploration maps of "ancient dragon relics" from past Emperors.
Each was detailed to the point of incredulity, marking the flow of magic power, rock strata structure, specific locations of dragon bone remains.
As Raymont looked over the maps, the calm in his eyes was as if finally placing the missing piece in a puzzle.
The second layer held a fragile parchment volume, with a mottled title on the cover: "Dragon Blood."
These recorded the serum extracted from dragon corpses by recent generations of Emperors.
This plan proved the Royals had attempted for centuries to extend life with dragon blood, even seeking a breakthrough in life’s hierarchy.
But they failed because the "dragon" they held was never a true dragon, merely sub-dragon species.
And that giant dragon corpse in Graystone Province was a real ancient dragon, the key to completing the entire plan.
With these documents, the Dragon Blood Warrior plan, and even his own dragonization experiments had a further chance to advance.
Raymont’s breathing momentarily paused.
Then he gently closed the parchment volume, as if packing away a sacred treasure.
Raymont slowly shut the box and stood up.
Outside, thunder rolled.
He walked to the window, gazing at the nightscape of the capital illuminated by firelight, and exhaled lightly.
The Second Prince thought he had won, believed it was him sitting on the Dragon Throne—but he was merely a puppet, molded by his own hands.
Raymont whispered softly, "Finally reached here."
As the words still echoed in the air, a cautious knock broke the silence in the room.
He furrowed his brows in extreme displeasure, not turning immediately, instead leisurely rolling up a scroll, slipping it into the hidden pocket of his sleeve.
Only when all was in place did he slowly turn: "Come in."
The doorway revealed the captain of the Second Prince’s personal guard.
This man, ruthless enough to strangle Duke Simmons on the execution ground, was sweating under Raymont’s scrutiny, his legs stiff as if filled with lead.
"What is it?" Raymont’s voice was as cold as frost.
The captain swallowed, bowed deeply: "Grand Marshal, Sir, Your Excellency... His Highness has urgent military affairs. He’s raging in the command room, has smashed two glasses, and insists you must come at once."
"Raging?" Raymont chuckled quietly; it was like hearing a starving dog barking wildly in its cage.
The captain dared not lift his head: "His Highness said that troops must be deployed immediately, but... he needs your instructions."
Raymont exhaled lightly, as if confirming that the beast on the other side of the board remained obediently trapped within its frame.
He adjusted his sleeves, his tone calm to a frightening degree: "Very well."
The voice was gentle, yet it sent chills down the captain’s spine.
Raymont looked at the shivering captain before him, his eyes glinting with amusement and scrutiny, as though pondering whether a rain-drenched puppy could still remain steady.
He was too familiar with Kaelin’s current state.
A mad dog that had just tasted blood, sensitive, irritable, eager to proclaim to all creatures that it was the new king.
The sense of inflated power would make Kaelin extremely dangerous in the short term, and simultaneously... very useful.
Kaelin still needed this madness, to purge the civil servant group, to bear the reputation of a tyrant for him, to fight desperately for him and other forces on future battlefronts.
If Kaelin were to feel marginalized and manipulated at this moment...
This dog might very well bite its master; hence caution was paramount.