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At the utterance of these words, nearly everyone was convinced that Prince Lance, out of jealousy and rivalry, was plotting to murder the Hero!

Even Morton, the Royal Guard Knight Commander, felt that such a prince was utterly unqualified and entirely undeserving of inheriting the imperial throne.

If the throne fell into Lance’s hands, the destruction of the Empire seed predictable in the near future.

Morton took a deep breath, "The struggle for the throne has nothing to do with ; I am loyal to His Majesty, not to others. I will report what has happened here truthfully to His Majesty. As for the final decision, that is His Majesty’s concern."

Having said that, Morton unfurled a Magic Scroll.

...

Within the Imperial City.

Wozworth was lounging comfortably on a sofa, leaning back on a soft cushion, with a stunningly voluptuous young woman in his arms, appearing to be only in her twenties.

Her body, serpentine and seductive, gently twined itself in Wozworth’s embrace.

This lady was not one of his princesses, although he had over a hundred princesses... Each one was beautiful and graceful, but what was that saying?

The flower at ho is not as sweet as the wildflower? That’s what the First Generation Brave had said.

The young lady in his arms was from so Viscount’s family, her charm was quite delightful for Wozworth, and what was most important was her youth.

What man doesn’t like young and beautiful girls?

Although he was an emperor, he too needed to relax occasionally, or else the overwhelming state affairs could shorten his life by several years.

He was quite confident in his ability to disguise himself; the girl in front of him had not realized his true identity. It was only his innate noble deanor that made one instantly think he must be so great noble.

Wozworth’s furry paw rested on the lady’s waist, and with no good intentions, it slid down that slender waist until it was about to touch a vital area, only to be rcilessly slapped down by the lady.

"Uncle, your hand is quite unruly..."

Wozworth was not angry, rather the girly voice made him feel his bones soften.

The lady was utterly charming and full of allure. Whenever Wozworth wanted to go further, he would be stopped by her, but he never forced himself, enjoying the act of flirting.

His finger lifted her chin, looking directly into her light green eyes, and Wozworth shalessly spoke:

"What uncle, call brother..."

On the other side, a steward sitting not far away on another sofa, sipping tea, trembled at these words, his forehead furrowed in exasperation.

Shaless, utterly shaless!

Can’t you see how old you are? You’re in your fifties or sixties, asking to be called ’brother,’ do you have no sha?

This scene was almost unbearable to witness, fortunate was it that no one familiar recognized Wozworth’s true identity; otherwise, the Empire’s reputation would be thoroughly tarnished.

Wozworth’s bearded mouth moved to the lady’s slender, pale neck, kissing it continually.

The stiff beard seed to tickle the lady a bit, eliciting giggles from her.

Just as Wozworth was about to claim the lady’s lips, a ticklish sensation suddenly filled his ear, causing his face to imdiately fall.

Who was it, interrupting him at such a ti? He would definitely dock their pay later.

Although extrely irritated, Wozworth knew that those who could contact him via ssage Magic were no ordinary persons. He let go of the lady in his arms, "Beautiful miss, please wait a mont, I seem to have so trouble to attend to here."

He apologized gracefully to the lady, and while pressing his ear, walked aside. Soon, Wozworth’s expression turned fierce, like an enraged lion, his fists clenching with a creaking sound.

Seeing this, the attendant who was with him imdiately realized sothing was wrong, hurriedly put down his teacup, and stood up to approach Wozworth.

"Rebel, rebel... rebel..."

A deep roar echoed, and upon hearing these words, the steward imdiately understood that the Prince had once again done sothing to enrage His Majesty. This was quite normal, happening several tis each week, but the steward keenly sensed that this ti the Emperor’s reaction was more vehent than ever.

Wozworth’s gaze burned with flas, at that mont, the Emperor seed like a savage beast ready to devour soone.

That kind of look caused the noble lady who had wanted to approach to shudder, and she dared not co any closer.

Without looking back, Wozworth charged directly out of the hotel and headed straight for the Imperial Palace. The accompanying steward wisely did not ask what had exactly happened, knowing that so things were not for him to know, although he had a good relationship with His Majesty, ever since they were young.

He rushed all the way to the Prince’s palace. At the entrance of the palace, two attendants were present. Seeing Emperor Wozworth appear in a rage, their expressions imdiately changed. They instinctively blocked Wozworth’s path and saluted, their mouths agape as if wanting to loudly inquire what was the matter.

But before they could speak, Wozworth waved his hand, "Get out of the way!"

The two attendants were directly blasted away, slamming harshly into a wall. By the ti they fell to the ground, they had already stopped breathing.

With a commanding stride, Wozworth kicked open the doors to Lance’s bedchamber. The doors shattered into fragnts that flew in all directions. When Wozworth saw the scene inside the room, blood rushed to his head, and he almost passed out.

In the vast room, there were dozens of figures, both n and won.

Their clothes were already scattered across the floor, Lance included, and each person’s face was filled with obsession and madness.

Damn bastard!

Unruly scion, calamity!

Seeing the sudden appearance of the Emperor, all those people were startled, and the obsession and madness on their faces quickly turned to fear.

"All of you, get out."

Wozworth roared furiously.

A mass of figures hurriedly picked up clothes from the floor and rushed out of the Prince’s bedchamber. The steward, witnessing this scene from the doorway, already guessed what had happened. He spread his arms, and bolts of lightning fell from the sky, and in an instant, only a few dozen charred corpses remained on the ground.

Seeing Lance, who still looked impatient and tossed a robe over himself, Wozworth almost burst out laughing from anger.

Goodness, apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, huh?

At the most, he himself would just disguise himself to mingle with noble ladies outside, but his son had taken it dozens of tis fancier?

"Lance, look at yourself now, do you even slightly resemble a Prince? You are to inherit the throne," Wozworth was so exhausted he had no energy left to be angry. He couldn’t understand why his son, whom he had carefully raised from childhood, had turned out this way.

He wasn’t like this previously.

Lance yawned lazily. Though he was simply wearing a robe and was barely dressed, he still radiated dignity and grace.

"Father, surely you haven’t co here just to spoil my fun?"

"Why are you so angry, Dad? Is it because I didn’t invite you? Okay, I’ll rember to include you next ti."

Wozworth’s body trembled, he took a deep breath, trying to suppress the flas about to explode inside him, "Why did you plot to kill the Hero in Conrad?"

"Plot to kill the Hero in Conrad?" Lance was taken aback. He shook his head instinctively, "Don’t talk nonsense, I didn’t, it wasn’t ."

However, Lance’s denial completely enraged Wozworth. He suddenly lifted his right hand and with a whoosh, slapped Lance on the right cheek.

"You cowardly bastard, dare to do it but not admit to it?" Wozworth roared.

The force of his blow was staggering. With that slap, Lance’s body was sent flying. Half of his face was almost completely destroyed, with so areas even revealing the bone underneath.

But at that mont, Lance felt no pain on his face. He had indeed arranged for several assassins to kill the Hero the previous night, but he also knew those assassins were practically sent to their deaths, rely to test the Hero’s true strength. He wanted to break the Hero’s neck with his own hands.

He had not plotted to kill the Hero in Conrad; he didn’t even know that the Hero was in Conrad.

He didn’t know where his father had heard such news, but his father’s complete mistrust only caused Lance’s nose to tingle, a wave of strong bitterness surged in his heart and two murky tears ran down his angry

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