Chapter 542: Shelved

As Shellen’s voice faded, the banquet hall erupted once again into fervent debate.

Some declared that Shellen should become the new queen, guiding Auduin Kingdom forward—after all, by law, she was the rightful heir;

yet others voiced opposition.

With powerful enemies like the Trisia Kingdom and the alien races looming, they argued, leadership must fall to someone strong enough to forge a great empire.

Though Count Iben was formidable, he paled in comparison to Ronin.

Thus, this faction proposed that Blanch take the throne, with Ronin serving as regent, leading the nobles to conquer all before them.

Yet neither Shellen nor Blanch offered any opinion—the crown held little appeal for either woman—but both quietly supported the idea of their respective men wielding power as regents.

They passed the decision to Iben and Ronin, yet even these two remained silent.

Iben listened to the clamor around him. In recent days, he had visited many noble houses, lobbying for Shellen—and for himself.

The Tolansi family had paid dearly to secure allies.

Ronin, in contrast, had made no such moves; even Rulans, acting on his behalf, had reportedly spent nothing.

But Iben wasn’t truly vying for the throne.

His stance remained unchanged: if Ronin wished to claim it, Iben would step aside—yet not without extracting as much benefit for his house as possible.

After all, their contest would be within the bounds of law; Ronin would have no cause to bear grudges.

The argument raged on, but gradually, a third voice emerged:

At such a moment—so soon after the king’s passing, with enemies circling like wolves—the nobles’ urgent duty was to confront external threats and internal chaos, not squabble endlessly over succession.

Ronin instantly recognized the hand of Rulans behind this sentiment, planted among loyalists to be raised in the assembly.

Yet the idea was quickly challenged—without a monarch, who would unify conflicting opinions? Without a supreme authority, how could disputes be settled?

After a while, the aged Duke Valgis rubbed his temples. He struck the table—thump, thump, thump—until the din subsided.

“This shouting leads nowhere. We’re divided between supporting Shellen or Blanch. Why not let the two of them speak?”

Then, recalling that each woman stood behind Iben and Ronin, he added, “Or perhaps let Iben and Ronin speak for their ladies?”

Valgis himself leaned toward supporting Ronin—but Rulans had not yet declared.

And after Ronin’s striking stance during Garrett’s trial, he decided to hear both men out first.

Shellen nodded to Iben, who rose and bowed deeply.

“We are grateful for your support of Shellen. As the king’s eldest daughter, by law, she is indeed the first in line to the throne.”

Iben acknowledged this, then shifted tone: “Yet for the sake of the kingdom’s future, I find merit in what some have said—that the legendary Duke Ronin can lead us further.”

He turned to Ronin: “Perhaps we should first hear his thoughts?”

Iben handled Ronin with utmost care—he could never afford to antagonize him as Garrett had.

His move passed the burden to Ronin, yet it was born of hesitation, a reluctant gambit.

Ronin smiled faintly.

Iben had invoked the law, affirmed Shellen’s legitimacy, and still left Ronin an honorable path forward—no matter what he chose to say.

Yet Ronin had no intention of playing along.

“I am grateful for the support many have shown Blanch—and for the trust placed in me. But neither Blanch nor I desire the throne of Auduin.”

Gasps rippled through the hall.

Even Iben froze. What did this mean? Was Ronin truly relinquishing the crown to Shellen?

His heart pounded. *Could it be… I will become regent?*

Then Ronin drew forth a sheet of paper, speaking slowly:

“When King Bruno granted me the title of Conqueror Duke in Mist City, he made a private request—that I lead the nobles of Auduin beyond Trisia, to build an empire under Auduin’s name.”

“In return, he promised that after capturing Dragonspire, I may claim my own territory and found a kingdom of my own. This was our covenant.”

So saying, he handed the document to Duke Valgis beside him.

Valgis stared in astonishment—this had been a secret between Ronin and the late king, known to none.

He examined the paper, then nodded gravely. “This is indeed His Majesty’s handwriting—and bears both signatures, fingerprints, and royal seals!”

He passed the parchment to Gushan, who passed it on, and so it traveled from hand to hand.

Now expressions turned complex, layered.

So Ronin intended to strike out on his own?

Iben took the paper, recognizing the familiar script—and felt its weight burn in his palm.

Clearly, Ronin meant to become a king in his own right.

That meant he *did* desire the crown.

While under Bruno, bound by many ties, he had obeyed—

but under Shellen? Would he still submit?

And when he became king, what would his realm’s relationship be with Auduin?

To Iben, the conflict was inevitable.

By then, Ronin—commander of the nobles, unmatched in strength and renown—would tower over them both.

No, he and Shellen could never resist.

Thoughts flashed through Iben’s mind like lightning. Then, solemnly, he spoke:

“The late king’s final wish was to destroy the Trisia Kingdom and build a new empire upon Orlandt.”

“I agree with those nobles who said it—we should not debate succession now. Not until that sacred mission is fulfilled.”

Ronin was taken aback. He and Rulans had planned to steer the conversation here—but Iben had beaten them to it.

Having spoken, Iben passed the covenant onward.

“Let us honor the old king’s legacy. Let us appoint Ronin as Supreme Commander of the Nobles, and follow him to crush Trisia, to eradicate every foe. Only then shall we choose the next ruler—by merit, by glory, by ability.”

He paused, then added with quiet emphasis: “Perhaps, by then, we should call him… Emperor?”

The hall fell into stunned silence.

Merit, glory, ability—were these not tailor-made for Ronin?

Who among them could rival the commander of the noble alliance, the greatest warrior of their age?

Iben’s declaration was nothing short of a graceful withdrawal from the race for the throne.

Ronin looked at Iben anew.

To resist the lure of power in such a moment, to make such a swift, shrewd decision—this man was no ordinary figure.

Had their strengths been closer, a fierce clash between them might have been inevitable.

(End of Chapter)