Chapter 23: The False Emperor and the True Deception

The Emperor propped his chin, scrutinizing the bound youth before him.

“Is he the son of Glais, that debauched monarch?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

From the foot of the steps, a tall elven man replied. His handsome features and every subtle expression made the innocent palace maids’ hearts flutter.

Moreover, his refined speech and dignified demeanor suggested that the opposing side was quite invested in their diplomatic relations. The Emperor nodded in satisfaction.

However, a comical dwarf crouched beside him. Though he also possessed long, pointed ears, his presence felt utterly out of place in a court that revered love and beauty.

“What? Does Prince Cliff intend to send a dwarf to amuse me?”

The Emperor grinned, and the palace maids nearby, upon hearing his words, stifled their giggles.

“No, he is my brother, Bloen.”

Sweat trickled down Bloa’s forehead. He was about to speak further, but Bloen interrupted him.

“Reporting to Your Majesty, I am entirely at your service.”

“Oh, do tell. What exactly can you do?”

The Emperor clasped his hands, asking with keen interest.

“My talents are plentiful, Your Majesty. Not only can I help you devour an entire Manchu-Han Imperial Feast, but I can also satisfy your charming palace maids. Heh heh, it seems to me they’re quite unfulfilled!”

Bloen revealed a mischievous smile, prompting Bloa to hastily cover his mouth.

The Emperor erupted in fury, slamming his fist against the throne with a resounding boom that echoed through the palace. His trembling finger pointed directly at Bloen.

“You despicable dwarf! I’ll have you castrated!”

“Haha, that would be delightful! You’d probably have to chop off my fingers too, then, because my fingers can also satisfy the palace maids—after all, it’s a size they’re quite accustomed to.”

The Emperor’s face contorted with rage, veins bulging on his aged countenance. “Guards! Guards!” he bellowed.

The guards immediately responded, arriving fully clad in armor, each bearing a gleaming blade that shone distinctively in the pristine palace.

The palace maids, terrified, huddled together, their faces pale. Bloa quickly shielded Bloen. Instead of immediately seizing Bloen, the guards formed two orderly rows.

From between their ranks, a man in military attire with short brown hair emerged. Behind him trailed a captivating silver-haired youth. The Emperor stared fixedly at them.

Only when the military man waved his hand did the guards spring into action, encircling Bloen and Bloa.

“Your Majesty, what has transpired?”

The military man squinted, his gaze fixed on the old man on the throne.

“This dwarf has no decorum! He has grossly insulted me, and I demand he be executed in the public square!”

Seeing this, Bloa was on the verge of tears, yet Bloen calmly rose to his feet.

“How presumptuous. I believe *you* are the one lacking decorum, sir,” Bloen retorted. He surveyed his surroundings, utterly unconcerned by the glinting weapons, his gaze fixed solely on the military man.

“We came here in good faith to negotiate, yet you present a false emperor on the throne. Is that appropriate, Emperor Carloman?”

The military man’s brows furrowed. He motioned for the guards to withdraw, then threw his head back and laughed heartily.

“When did you realize?”

Carloman smiled at Bloen as he spoke. He waved a hand towards the throne, and the guards marched in synchronized steps to its vicinity. The aged, false emperor had already vanished from sight.

“From the very beginning, I could tell,” Bloen said, shaking his head. “To be frank, your performance was quite clumsy. For a grand emperor, to have not a single guard in the palace, that’s truly inappropriate, wouldn’t you say?”

“Haha, indeed. They had sworn a blood oath to protect me, and I felt it would be improper to make them leave,” Carloman replied.

Carloman walked directly to the throne, the silver-haired youth trailing closely behind him. He settled onto the throne with a composed air, his hands clasped together.

“I sincerely apologize for the deception. However, my nation and the Principality of Saint Fros have been at odds for many years, and I could not guarantee the goodwill of any visitors.”

“No matter.”

Bloen narrowed his eyes, glancing at the silent silver-haired youth beside Carloman. “Presumably, this is your son?”

“He is my second son, Charles. And since the death of my beloved eldest son, he is the heir to Eledis,” Carloman stated.

“My Prince is deeply remorseful for the actions of the previous Prince. As an act of atonement, he has specifically sent the former Prince’s biological son,” Bloen explained. His eyes fell upon Norria, who lay discarded on the ground, completely oblivious to the events that had just unfolded, snoring softly.

Bloen couldn’t quite say he held profound respect for such an open-minded and optimistic person, but he was certainly utterly dumbfounded.

“Oh?” Carloman looked at Norria, then asked, “But I recall that Glais’s sons were all supposed to be dead? Could it be… an illegitimate child?”

“A legitimate illegitimate child,” Bloen corrected. “Had the Prince not been stripped of his power by the Elder Council, Prince Norria would be the first in line to the Principality of Saint Fros.”

“So, what use do I have for a legitimate illegitimate child? If this is your bargaining chip, it seems rather flimsy, wouldn’t you agree?”

Carloman’s hand rested on the throne, his impatience now visibly evident. “Your Majesty, perhaps my eyes deceive me, but what I see is an entire principality,” Bloen said with a sly smile.

Indeed, with Norria as a hostage, Carloman could claim the entire Holy Kingdom of Saint Fros in his name.

“Oh? And the No-War Edict…?”

“It is on the verge of being abolished. Regarding this, the elders supporting you should have already leaked the news, shouldn’t they?”

Carloman paused for a moment, then erupted in thunderous laughter. Just as quickly, he regained his composure.

“Prince Cliff deliberately sends an heir claimant, then expects me to annex his nation?”

“You would have to ask him yourself, Your Majesty,” Bloen said, inclining his body slightly. “We are merely responsible for delivering the person and relaying the message.”

“Most intriguing, most intriguing.” Carloman clapped his hands. “You have truly presented me with a grand gift. So, what are your demands of Eledis?”

Bloen glanced at Bloa, then urged, “Bloa, this is your moment to step forward.”

Bloa, who had been unable to get a word in, straightened up. His height, compared to Bloen’s, was like that of a giant. He declared in a booming voice, “Prince Cliff I of Saint Fros is soon to marry Dorota Normanthine. He specifically extends an invitation to the great Emperor of Eledis—His Majesty Carloman—to attend the wedding in Jeannagos one month from now.”

“Given Cliff’s earnestness, how could I possibly decline his invitation?” Carloman mused with a smile. “Tell Prince Cliff that his friend Carloman is most delighted to attend his wedding and wishes them both a joyful marriage.”

“Excellent.” Bloen nodded. “Then we shall take our leave, Your Majesty. We hope you will treat our Prince well; the people of Saint Fros would not wish to see their future Prince looking gaunt and pale.”

“Naturally. I shall treat Prince Norria as an honored guest.”

After Bloen and Bloa departed, Carloman dismissed all the palace maids, instructing them to take Norria away, bathe him, and change his clothes.

With the maids gone, much of the palace’s vibrancy faded, leaving only the Emperor, his son, and the fully armed guards.

“That was truly tense. I thought we were about to be exposed,” Carloman admitted, letting out a long breath. He then shed his military attire, revealing a physique of eight toned abdominal muscles.

Carloman, still standing by the throne, looked at Charles. Charles then eagerly spoke: “Grand-Ancestor Carloman, how was my performance?”

The true Carloman lifted his gaze, his eyes a blood-red hue, his face as delicate as a maiden’s. He observed Charles, then parted his lips to commend him. “Carl, you are an absolute fool.”

Charles froze, then said with annoyance, “But Bloen didn’t detect my true identity at all.”

“I wasn’t speaking of your acting,” Carloman stated flatly. “The focus now is Avros Territory, not Jeannagos. You must remember, my beloved wife is in Avros.”

Carloman’s gaze drifted into the distance. Charles hastily offered an apology: “Grand-Ancestor, Pannoria and Lagaya, neighboring Avros, have both sent envoys. If we merely interfere, you and your beloved wife will be reunited immediately.”

Carloman glared at Charles, then angrily admonished him, “Then what are you waiting for? Put on your clothes and attend court at once!”