Chapter 129 - 122: The Hall of Crowns

The Hall of Crowns was built to intimidate.

Everything about it radiated authority.

Massive marble pillars stretched toward vaulted ceilings painted with the victories of ancient kings while silver-blue banners of House Vaelthron hung behind the royal throne like descending waterfalls of steel and silk.

Rows of nobles stood along both sides of the hall beneath magical lanterns glowing softly through the winter gloom beyond towering windows.

Military officers,Royal ministers,Court mages and aristocrats.

All gathered silently.

At the far end of the chamber—

Upon the elevated throne beneath the crest of Asterion—

Sat King Alaric Vaelthron.

And before him—

The enormous golden doors of the Hall of Crowns slowly opened.

The sound echoed across the chamber heavily.

Then Lucien Valcriox entered the royal court of Asterion for the first time.

Lucien walked calmly across the hall beneath hundreds of observing eyes while Malen followed slightly behind him alongside Gandalf, whose expression suggested he deeply regretted agreeing to wear noble robes.

The old wizard quietly muttered:

"If anyone here starts reciting poetry, I’m leaving."

Malen didn’t even glance toward him.

"Please do."

Lucien ignored both of them completely.

His black formal attire carried almost no excessive decoration compared to the richly embroidered southern nobles surrounding the hall.

Only the silver crest of Elarion stitched onto dark fabric.

And somehow—

That simplicity stood out more than the extravagant aristocrats surrounding him.

The court watched him closely.

Some curious,Some impressed and Some openly hostile.

But nearly everyone present shared one thought:

So this is the man.

The lord who brought steel monsters into the capital.

Lucien finally stopped several meters before the throne.

For several moments—

Neither he nor Alaric spoke.

The two simply observed one another silently while the atmosphere inside the hall slowly tightened.

Then finally—

King Alaric spoke first.

"Lord Lucien of Elarion."

His voice carried calmly across the enormous chamber.

"Asterion welcomes your arrival."

Lucien inclined his head slightly.

"Your Majesty."

The king’s sharp silver eyes studied him carefully.

Then quietly—

"I trust the capital has treated you adequately."

"It has."

A faint smile touched the king’s expression briefly.

"But not comfortably i guess."

The statement caused several nearby nobles to glance toward one another.

Lucien answered calmly.

"Capitals rarely welcome uncertainty."

For the first time—

A subtle flicker of amusement appeared in Alaric’s eyes.

Interesting.

The hall remained quiet afterward.

Then suddenly—

One elderly noble stepped forward slightly.

Too smoothly to be accidental.

"Your Majesty."

The man bowed respectfully before turning toward Lucien.

"Forgive my curiosity..."

His tone remained polite.

But the hostility beneath it was obvious.

"...but many within the capital remain uncertain regarding Elarion’s sudden... transformation."

Several nobles nearby watched carefully now.

The first jab.

Lucien remained expressionless.

The old aristocrat continued.

"Factories."

"Industrial production."

"Steel war machines."

A faint smile crossed the noble’s face.

"One could almost mistake Elarion for a merchant enterprise rather than noble territory."

Soft laughter spread through portions of the court.

Malen’s eyes narrowed faintly.

Gandalf looked profoundly unimpressed.

Lucien simply answered calmly.

"A starving peasant rarely cares whether grain arrives through noble tradition or industrial logistics."

The laughter disappeared instantly.

Several younger officers visibly suppressed reactions.

The old noble’s smile weakened slightly.

But another aristocrat immediately stepped forward.

A military noble this time.

"Perhaps."

His gaze hardened faintly.

"But kingdoms are not governed through workshops."

A few nobles nodded immediately.

The man continued:

"Asterion was built through noble blood, knightly honor, and magical supremacy."

His eyes shifted briefly toward Lucien.

"Not through smoke and machines."

Now the atmosphere became sharper.

This was no longer subtle probing.

This was ideological.

The old order challenging the new directly.

Lucien’s expression never changed.

Instead—

He answered calmly.

"And yet."

The hall quieted immediately.

"During the coalition war..."

Lucien’s voice remained completely controlled.

"...your cavalry charges died beneath machine-gun fire exactly the same as common infantry all the same."

The military noble’s expression darkened instantly.

Several younger officers visibly looked downward to hide reactions.

Lucien continued quietly.

"war does not respect noble blood,it never did "

That line struck the hall like a hammer.

Even some royal ministers shifted uneasily afterward.

Because nobody could deny the truth behind it.

The military noble stiffened visibly.

"You speak boldly for someone who stands before the Crown."

Lucien’s eyes met his evenly.

"And you speak emotionally for someone discussing warfare."

The hall froze.

Then suddenly—

A young officer somewhere within the court failed to suppress a cough that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

Several nobles immediately turned toward him sharply.

King Alaric remained completely calm.

Another aristocrat stepped forward afterward.

Younger this time.

"Elarion seems determined to replace tradition entirely."

His gaze narrowed slightly.

"Tell me, Lord Lucien..."

"...what place remains for nobility once machines replace armies?"

Now THAT question mattered.

Because beneath all the hostility—

This was the true fear consuming the old noble houses becoming irrelevant and then obsolete

Lucien understood that immediately.

The hall waited silently for his answer.

Then calmly—

"Nobility was never supposed to exist merely to preserve itself."

Several expressions hardened instantly.

Lucien continued.

"A ruler exists to strengthen territory."

"To protect people."

"To stabilize civilization."

His gaze slowly swept across the court.

"If industrialization accomplishes those goals more effectively..."

He paused slightly.

"...then resisting it becomes incompetence masquerading as tradition."

This time—

Even parts of the royal court became visibly unsettled.

Because Lucien wasn’t merely defending factories.

He was challenging the philosophical foundation of stagnant feudalism itself.

One elderly duke stepped forward angrily.

"You speak as though centuries of noble order are meaningless."

Lucien answered immediately.

"No."

His voice remained calm.

"I speak as though survival matters more than nostalgia."

Silence crashed across the hall again.

Some nobles looked furious now.

Others looked thoughtful.

And the younger military officers?

They looked fascinated.

Because for the first time—

Someone inside the royal court was openly saying what many of them already suspected.

The world was changing.

And the old order might not survive unchanged.

Then suddenly—

The temperature inside the hall dropped.

Immense mana.

The magical lanterns flickered violently.

Several court mages immediately stiffened.

Royal guards instinctively tightened formation.

Even Gandalf’s relaxed expression disappeared instantly.

And then—

Someone was standing beside the throne.

One moment empty space existed there.

And the next—

An old man stood calmly beside King Alaric.

The Royal Guardian(Father of king alaric)

The entire hall froze immediately.

Every noble lowered their head instinctively.

Several court mages visibly paled.

Because this was not merely some powerful royal mage.

This was the being responsible for maintaining the Crown’s absolute authority for decades.

Ancient mana pressure filled the chamber like invisible oceans pressing against mortal flesh.

Lucien felt it immediately.

Yet his expression remained calm externally.

The Royal Guardian ignored everyone else completely.

His ancient eyes settled directly upon Lucien.

And remained there.

Silence deepened further.

Then—

For the first time since appearing—

The old mage spoke.

"Interesting."

His voice sounded soft.

Yet the entire hall heard it perfectly.

The Guardian slowly stepped forward.

Court mages looked terrified.

Because the Royal Guardian almost never involved himself in political audiences personally.

Yet now—

He walked directly toward Lucien.

The mana pressure intensified slightly.

Several nobles visibly struggled breathing.

Even Malen’s expression hardened faintly.

But the Guardian only studied Lucien silently.

Like a scholar examining something impossible.

Then quietly—

"You stand within this world..."

The old mage’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"...yet your existence leans elsewhere."

Lucien’s heart tightened slightly.

Because that statement was dangerously close.

The hall itself didn’t fully understand the meaning.

But Lucien did.

And judging by Gandalf’s suddenly serious expression—

So did the old wizard.

The Royal Guardian continued observing Lucien silently.

Then—

For the first time—

A faint smile touched the ancient mage’s face.

"Fascinating."

The pressure vanished instantly afterward.

The magical lanterns stabilized.

The air relaxed.

Breathing became easier again.

Yet nobody inside the hall dared speak.

Because the Royal Guardian had just shown personal interest in Lucien publicly.

Politically—

That was enormous.

The old mage calmly turned back toward the throne afterward.

Then simply disappeared.

Again—

One moment present.

The next absent.

And the silence he left behind felt heavier than his mana.

For several seconds—

Nobody spoke.

Then finally—

King Alaric broke the silence calmly.

"It appears Elarion continues surprising the kingdom."

The king’s gaze rested upon Lucien thoughtfully now.

Deeply interested.

Then—

For the first time during the audience—

Alaric leaned slightly forward upon the throne.

"Tell me, Lord Lucien."

The entire hall listened carefully.

"If the future you envision truly arrives..."

His silver eyes sharpened faintly.

"...what becomes of Asterion?"

Now THAT question mattered more than anything asked previously.

Lucien remained silent briefly.

Then calmly—

"That depends."

The court waited.

Lucien’s gaze slowly moved across the nobles surrounding the hall.

"On whether Asterion chooses to evolve with the future..."

His eyes finally returned toward the king.

"...or attempts to chain itself to the past."

The hall became completely silent again.

Because everyone present understood immediately—

This conversation was no longer about Elarion alone.

It was about the direction of the kingdom itself.

And for the first time that morning—

King Alaric smiled openly.

Interesting indeed.