Volume 1 Chapter 145.3

Volume 1 + Chapter 145.3: The Emperor Has Passed Away

As the protagonist, he was naturally endowed with top-tier luck. As long as he remained alive, fate would inevitably open a window for him, always providing a glimmer of hope in the most unexpected moments, giving him a chance to break through any predicament.

Take, for instance, this earth-shattering piece of news…

The Emperor of the Empire had passed away!

“Bread is yours if you want it, no problem—but you’ll have to do me a small favor,” the Dragon-Pride Protagonist said softly, a trace of playful amusement in his eyes. “If you agree, your next serving of soup is on me too.”

Upon hearing this, the little chubby boy’s eyes lit up instantly, his mouth splitting into a wide grin. “Really? You can’t trick me!”

His reaction was so quick and so innocent that it made the Dragon-Pride Protagonist pause with a hint of doubt.

This little guy seemed willing to agree to anything food-related without hesitation, yet he had the audacity to claim he had once been a top noble in the imperial capital?

But the Dragon-Pride Protagonist knew better, he didn’t need this boy to possess any extraordinary talent. A gluttonous, mischievous little character like this was exactly what he needed. As for the so-called noble background, it didn’t matter, the boy was so easy to control that the Dragon-Pride Protagonist could make him act according to his will almost anytime.

The real key was the control he could wield over him—and that was precisely what the Dragon-Pride Protagonist valued.

“Of course, plain bread and that barely edible starch soup—what are those? Don’t you want to try something better?”

There was a hint of depth in the Dragon-Pride Protagonist’s voice, as if his words were tugging at the boy’s appetite. The chubby boy’s eyes immediately flickered with greed and curiosity.

“What’s better?” he asked eagerly, unable to hide his intrigue.

“Delicacies from all over the world. Abalone, lobster—you can eat them as staples. Every meal will be a feast.”

The Dragon-Pride Protagonist’s gaze darkened slightly, his voice low and magnetic. “And beautiful maids will serve you. Whatever you want, twenty-four hours a day, delivered to you within minutes.”

Hearing this, the chubby boy’s face immediately broke into a sly smile, his eyes shining with unabashed desire. “Hehehe… bro, wait… so you used to be a noble too?”

His tone was teasing, playful, yet his eyes betrayed eager expectation.

“I despise petty wealthy men,” the Dragon-Pride Protagonist replied lightly, his tone carrying an unquestionable coldness. “I have loftier ambitions.

However, if you behave and follow my instructions, I might even let you live in the imperial palace for a while—to experience life there firsthand.”

The boy’s eyes went wide with surprise and desire. Holding half a hard piece of bread in his hand, he could no longer eat, quickly wiping his nose with his grimy hand and leaning closer. “Bro, teach me! I’ll do whatever you say!”

He looked overly eager, his gaze flickering with an unusual light.

“If I go to the imperial palace, will I see Princess Alice? And Her Majesty the Empress Dowager Chancelianne?”

The boy asked, a crooked grin forming on his face, his expression sleazy yet triumphant—already imagining contact with these exalted figures.

“Of course you can, but first, you have to tell me in detail about your noble background. From beginning to end, every last detail,” the Dragon-Pride Protagonist said, frowning slightly at the grimy, snot-covered boy leaning in, instinctively stepping back to maintain some distance.

He didn’t want this oily, ragged figure getting too close.

Although the boy appeared to be just an unremarkable vagrant, the Dragon-Pride Protagonist knew the most important thing now was to first keep him satisfied.

“Alright, don’t rush. Take your time,” the Dragon-Pride Protagonist said, his tone patient yet somewhat distant.

By all logic, this little chubby boy was not simple—judging by his cunning, he was probably the sharpest one in the shelter. Otherwise, how could he be so comfortable here, even plump like a ball?

Yet surprisingly, in front of the Dragon-Pride Protagonist, the boy’s usual guile seemed ineffective.

Whatever the Dragon-Pride Protagonist said, the boy believed it without question.

This, in truth, was a manifestation of the Dragon-Pride Protagonist’s supreme luck.

Those around him who might become useful allies were unconsciously affected, losing their caution in his presence.

Even the information gathered in this shelter, unknown to the Empire’s high-ranking nobles, was part of his extraordinary luck.

It was like Eve’s powerful magic—completely unbreakable.

Yet the Dragon-Pride Protagonist had no idea he wasn’t relying on cleverness or skill. Some otherworldly force was quietly guiding him.

Because of this, he credited everything to his own charm, social skill, and a touch of dark psychology—unaware that supernatural forces were steering him.

“Got it, bro!”

The little boy agreed instantly, displaying unwavering trust.

Ignoring his exaggerated self-description, the Dragon-Pride Protagonist felt a faint thought creep into his mind—like a dark current emerging from an unnoticed corner, slowly nudging his future toward an even more shadowed path.

…………

“Miss Eve, you’ve finally arrived.”

Chancelianne’s voice carried a trace of exhaustion. Her complexion was paler than usual, her eyes streaked with fine red lines as if the gentle radiance had been completely drained.

Her normally exquisite face appeared weary, even the soft smile on her lips was strained.

The corners of her eyes were swollen and red, she had clearly been crying, and her tears hadn’t fully dried, leaving a blur that masked the pain and helplessness within her.

“Empress Dowager, I will withdraw now.”

The young maid bowed respectfully and quietly left the room, leaving Eve alone with Chancelianne.

As the door closed softly, Chancelianne could no longer hold back her emotions. Her legs gave way, and she collapsed to the floor.

Tears poured out suddenly, sliding slowly down her cheeks.

Seeing Eve, her anxiety and frustration erupted like a long-suppressed flood.

Eve, in turn, felt momentarily at a loss.

Chancelianne’s crying was so unlike her usual composed and formidable demeanor—she seemed like an entirely different person.

The woman before her, drenched in tears, appeared utterly helpless and anguished, like a child wronged, stripped of her usual nobility and strength.

Anyone witnessing her heart-wrenching sobs would feel sympathy.

Under Eve’s steady gaze, Chancelianne eventually stopped crying.

She lifted her head, embarrassment and guilt in her eyes, fragile like a child who had misbehaved.

“I… I know. I just… I lost control of my emotions,” she choked out, regret and self-reproach lacing her voice.

“I’m sorry… I… I behaved badly.”

Her apology, low and tinged with shame, evoked a pang of pity.

“Empress Dowager, please calm yourself first,” Eve said gently, her eyes filled with understanding and concern. “I can understand how you feel, but we must remain clear-headed. There are urgent and important matters ahead, aren’t there?”

Her quiet words carried a reassuring force.

At that moment, Chancelianne seemed to find a thread of comfort in Eve’s voice.

Although her heart was still heavy, she knew she could no longer lose control.

Eve’s comfort wasn’t as gentle as she might have imagined, but it was real and direct, alleviating some of her inner pain.

“Yes… I must think of Alice…” Chancelianne murmured, helpless and sorrowful. She knew she could not indulge in emotion, Alice still needed her, and she had heavier responsibilities to bear.

Eve observed silently, her heart tense and helpless. She was not someone adept at comforting others, she preferred calm and reason. All she could do now was wait for Chancelianne’s emotions to settle.

Chancelianne drew a deep breath, gradually regaining composure. Though traces of tears lingered, her gaze steadied, as if the emotional turbulence had clarified her resolve.

“All right, I feel much better. The reason I summoned you so late is to discuss matters concerning Alice,” she said, instinctively wiping the remaining tears from her face.

Eve quickly handed her a handkerchief.

“Thank you,” Chancelianne murmured softly, touching the handkerchief’s edge. The familiar scent from Eve brought her a measure of solace, calming her inner turbulence.

She drew in a deep breath, easing her worry slightly. “Miss Eve, according to imperial law and His Majesty’s arrangements while alive, your status and position logically make you the Empire’s highest authority now.”

She paused, looking at Eve with a heavy expression. “Though you are the Imperial Grand Advisor, nominally, your authority should surpass both Alice and me.”

Chancelianne’s eyes flickered with complex emotions—an admixture of awe and disbelief. “His Majesty trusted you completely, even to the point where I could hardly believe it. He has never trusted anyone so deeply, especially someone like you, an outsider.”

She shook her head slightly, her voice tinged with melancholy. “Even before meeting you, he resisted choosing a private tutor for Alice, convinced no one could fulfill the role.”

She paused, lost briefly in recollection, memories pulling her back to the not-so-distant past.

“But the moment he met you, he immediately changed his mind.”

Chancelianne’s tone was tinged with helplessness, as if stating a fact both unbelievable and undeniable.

She glanced at Eve. “I had never seen such a sudden change. He is a man of strict principles, to act this way—it’s astonishing.”

Eve understood this well. The Emperor had initially resisted, then within seconds had insisted she join the imperial household.

She nodded slightly, knowing the reasoning behind it. She understood the Emperor’s confident and cautious nature—every decision weighed carefully, a born aptitude for analyzing situations inherent to an imperial ruler.

From initial resistance to almost pleading for her to join, the transition was rapid, yet not entirely surprising to Eve.

Perhaps it was her formulas on the blackboard, or the way she changed Alice’s learning habits, that ultimately won over the Emperor.

“You’ve already received that medal, haven’t you?”

Chancelianne’s voice remained steady, though the faint exhaustion in her eyes was apparent.

“You understand its significance, I trust.”

She paused, gazing toward the distant horizon as if contemplating more complex matters.

“Clearly, this cannot be hidden for long. The cause of His Majesty’s death has yet to be determined.”

She sighed lightly, her eyes returning to Eve.

“For the Empire as a whole, His Majesty’s sudden passing is an unprecedented shock. We have, at most, a week to stabilize the situation. Perhaps even less before someone notices the anomaly, at which point matters could become far more complicated.”

Her tone grew solemn, each word carrying unspoken pressure.

“I will do my best to buy time and investigate the truth behind His Majesty’s death, attempting to extend this window. The rest… will have to be left to you and Alice.”

She looked at Eve with deep trust and conflict.

Chancelianne knew this responsibility was not meant to fall on Eve, the Empire’s fate wouldn’t normally affect someone as capable as her.

Her dragon-taming abilities and real-time magical map alone proved her strength and ingenuity.

She could assume another identity and thrive in any moderately developed country.

Yet now, Chancelianne could only rely on Eve. With His Majesty gone, she herself lacked authority over the Empire.

Only the young heir Alice could manage—but Alice was far too young.

Sighing, Chancelianne paused before continuing, “As compensation, I will agree to all your conditions. All the Empire’s resources and wealth, whatever you desire, I will hand over without hesitation. No complaints or objections—anything you deem worthy will be yours.”

These were the limits of what Chancelianne could offer.

Truthfully, she didn’t think Eve would care much for anything the Empire had to offer.

Perhaps the most enticing thing would be Chancelianne herself—but such thoughts were sinful, given they were both women and mothers of young children.

Beyond that, what could Chancelianne offer Eve?

Position? Power? Wealth?

For Eve, these were easily attainable—she could have as much as she wanted.

Only beauty was not so easily acquired, even if obtained, it would never be sincere.

Thinking this, Chancelianne furrowed her brows, wondering why her mind had wandered there.

“Y—what do you… think?”