Now, Prince Caster was just like the soul presented by Sigma, covered all over with Red Dragon scale armor, and a clear dragon pattern spread across half of his face. Coupled with the Demon Sword Apophis in his hand, this posture was all too familiar for the knights who had fought alongside Sigma.
The only difference was that Caster’s stature was slightly shorter than Sigma’s, but after all, Caster was just a fifteen or sixteen-year-old boy, which was not a big deal.
"I... Did I really succeed?"
Caster looked at the crowd kneeling densely before him as if he was in a dream.
For him, the process of soul transformation was truly too painful, like a thousand knives slicing at his soul, making every second unbearable with excruciating pain. There were even several tis he wanted to give up, but whenever he thought of Guinevere’s expectations and Le Cheng’s encouragent, he clenched his teeth and persevered.
But perhaps because the pain exceeded the limit, he gradually felt numb, even his consciousness beca a blank slate, and by the ti he regained awareness, this was the scene that unfolded before him.
He subconsciously looked at his current body, still sowhat in disbelief that he had truly succeeded.
Was this all really not a dream?
[Congratulations, Prince Caster, you are now the new Emperor of the Empire.]
Suddenly, that familiar voice rang out in his head again.
[As the Emperor, do you have anything you wish to say?]
What I want to say...
Prince Caster paused for a mont, then replied in his soul.
[I would never want to go through such an experience ever again in my life!]
While the officials and commoners were kneeling to Prince Caster, on the other hand, six individuals stood in place, looking at each other in dismay. They were Princes and Princes too, part of the King Selection Ceremony, and yet they hadn’t even drawn their swords. Now, they felt as if they had been forgotten, which left them sowhat at a loss.
So, do we still draw our swords?
Logically, we should be given the chance to try.
However...
Let’s just avoid further embarrassnt.
The six exchanged glances, none of them daring to break the status quo, and they knelt down on one knee in silence.
After all, not only had Prince Caster drawn the Demon Sword, but he had also gained recognition from Apophis, and even inherited the forr Emperor’s power, making his success indisputable. Unless they could do the sa, whether to draw the swords or not was irrelevant.
Eventually, the King Selection Ceremony concluded, and Morgan declared that Prince Caster would ascend as the new Emperor in a few days.
As the King Selection Ceremony ca to an end, countless subjects began to spread the word, announcing this exciting mont. ssages from within the Imperial Capital radiated to the surrounding cities.
"You should have seen it when Prince Caster approached the tomb, with a loud shout, the Demon Sword Apophis imdiately flew out of the grave and into his hand, then released an endless evil qi, coldly stating: Hmph, humans, do you think you can ta ?"
"Confronted with the sudden onslaught of the Demon Sword, Prince Caster faced it undaunted, simply smiling faintly. Then, a strong force burst forth from within him, and soon the sky filled with rolling dark clouds, with the thunderous roar of dragons amidst them, one man and one sword engaged in fierce combat. Eventually, the Demon Sword t its match, subdued by Prince Caster, who thus succeeded in inheriting the forr Emperor’s power, turning into an avatar."
"Really? The Demon Sword can talk too?"
"Hey, could this be false? I was there on the scene. If you don’t believe , go ask next door."
"Which next door?"
"That one right next to us... By the way, do you have any liquor? Let take a drink before I continue with the story."
Scenes like this one were common in the pubs, restaurants, newsstands, and even the flower streets of the Imperial Capital. Wherever there were people, it was as if everyone had witnessed it themselves, each recounting the stories they had heard along the way.
Even the rumors beca increasingly vicious, no longer confined to the form of story-telling gatherings. Stories such as Caster being the last of the Dragon Descendants began to erge.
And these tales were told with vivid detail.
According to their accounts, the Red Dragon in the Imperial Museum is not the last dragon. The true last dragon is the daughter of that Red Dragon, a young dragon. It was by chance that forr Emperor Sigma beca acquainted with the young dragon, which is how he ca to possess so of the Dragon Clan’s power. It is even said that the man and dragon together produced a Dragon Seed, and that Dragon Seed is Caster... Of course, in other versions, Caster is the son of that Dragon Seed, and so even say he is the grandson.
In any case, depending on the preferences of the storyteller, Caster’s lineage is as vague as Schrödinger’s cat, with the only constant being that Caster’s bloodline not only cos from Sigma but also inherits the power of dragons.
With the widespread dissemination of such rumors, many people actually believed them.
The reason the populace believed them, aside from the fierce nature of the rumors, was primarily that the official channels did not stop them.
And the reason the officials didn’t co forward to stop it was simple: not because they believed the rumor, but because as the newly enthroned Emperor, even if Caster had definitely inherited Emperor Sigma’s power, it was difficult to command credibility in such a short ti. However, with the rumor, on one hand, people’s impression of Caster could be deepened; on the other hand, myth-making was indeed necessary for the Empire at that ti.
The more formidable Caster was perceived to be, the stronger the people’s confidence in the Empire would beco.
Even, a small proportion of officials deliberately joined the rumor-mongering, continuously mythologizing Caster.
"I always feel that this isn’t quite right..."
In a garden within the Royal Court, Caster frowned, looking worried.
At this point, Caster had not yet completed his succession, as both the transfer of power and the preparations for the coronation required ti. However, after the day of the King Selection Ceremony, Caster had moved out of the Abyss Moon Palace and was taken to the Inner Court of the Royal Court, along with Guinevere.
Le Cheng had mainly been busy with familiarizing himself with his duties during this ti, but occasionally, he would co to check in.
At the mont, Le Cheng, in the form of a cat, was squatting on Guinevere’s thigh, enjoying the young girl’s petting and massage.
"Is there sothing wrong, ow?" Le Cheng the cat humd comfortably and asked with half-closed eyes.
"Talking about being descendants of the Dragon Clan, it feels like deceiving the public, and what if everyone finds out I am not that powerful..." Caster had of course heard those rumors since so of them were spread by Le Cheng.
"It’s no big deal, though there’s a risk of the persona collapsing, you just need one spectacular victory, and your imperial prestige can approach that of Sigma."
"Victory? You an?"
"According to Morgan’s prophecy, the Catastrophe Legion will soon invade the Imperial Capital."
"Ah?" Caster’s face suddenly changed upon hearing this.
Le Cheng owed, comforting him: "Don’t worry, I am still here. After all, it’s only Hell-level difficulty; it won’t be too hard, rest assured... Oh, right, it’s getting late."
With that, Le Cheng the cat stood up, shook himself, and with a ow, turned into a butterfly in two seconds, fluttering its wings and flying away.
Caster stared fixedly, unable to comprehend how Le Cheng managed to do it. They were all Ascenders; why could he change into anything he wanted, and did he really not feel any pain?
Ever since the day of the King Selection Ceremony, the pain of soul shaping etched deep in Caster’s mory, like a shadow, such that he would rather die than endure that pain again.
Pat pat—
Just then, suddenly, a guard approached and bowed: "Your Highness, is the Divine Envoy present? The Queen has matters to discuss with him."
"The Divine Envoy..."
Caster ca back to his senses, just about to speak, when Guinevere pointed in the direction outside the garden and said, "He has already flown away as a butterfly."
Guard: "..."
Indeed befitting of the Divine Envoy!
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