THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR-Chapter 319: THE SUN THRONE CEREMONY

The Imperial Palace of Valemir stood as the crowning achievement of the Solarian Empire's architectural mastery. Its massive white spires, visible from every district of the capital, gleamed in the morning sun like beacons of divine authority. But it was the Throne Chamber that truly captured the empire's obsession with celestial symbolism—a soaring cathedral of gold and stone where divinity and mortality intertwined.

Minister Salomonis va Ferrum of Lysora County paused at the entrance to the grand chamber, his auburn hair and elegant robes setting him apart from the armored warriors at his side. Arcane symbols shimmered subtly across his formal attire, magical equations woven into the very fabric—a statement of his position as much as his power. He adjusted the ornate belt of keys and artifacts hanging at his waist, a master of the arcane well aware of the political battlefield he was about to enter.

"Remember," he murmured to his companions without turning, "we represent Lysora County and the achievement at the Leviathan's Abyss. Nothing more."

Behind him stood three figures of distinct bearing and reputation: Kairos Vale, the Shadow of the Ninth House, his black armor absorbing light rather than reflecting it, face obscured beneath a hood that seemed to shift and waver at its edges; Aria Stormweaver, her striking white hair cascading around dark skin marked with glowing sigils, the very air around her crackling with barely contained elemental energy; and Siegfried, the Knight of the Broken Blade, his weathered face and silver-white armor bearing the scars of countless battles, a massive golden sword strapped across his back.

The herald's staff struck the marble floor three times, echoing through the vast chamber. "Presenting the conquerors of the Leviathan's Abyssal Rift! Minister Salomonis va Ferrum of Lysora County and company!"

As they proceeded down the central aisle, Salomonis took careful note of the assembled nobility. The chamber had divided itself along factional lines—the Sun Faction to the right, with their gold and white regalia, representing traditional imperial interests; the Moon Faction to the left, in silver and blue, pushing for reform and greater autonomy for the outer provinces. Between them ran a river of empty space, the physical manifestation of the growing schism at the empire's heart.

But it was the Sun Throne itself that drew all eyes. Rising at the chamber's far end, the massive construct of black stone and gold seemed to absorb and emanate light simultaneously. Rays of sunlight streamed through precisely placed windows, creating a corona effect around the throne—an intentional design meant to deify whoever sat upon it.

Today, the throne stood empty.

Instead, at its base stood Duke Ephesians Lorvantis of House Pantera, resplendent in his military regalia. His dark blue hair and sharp features gave him an almost predatory appearance, enhanced by the fur-lined cape draped across his broad shoulders. Gold accents and military decorations adorned his uniform, marking him as one of the empire's most distinguished commanders. Flanking him were seven Sun Maids in white and gold, each holding ceremonial awards on velvet cushions.

Salomonis felt his heart sink. The absence of the Empress was telling—no official announcement had been made regarding her whereabouts, yet here was Duke Lorvantis presiding in her place. The implications were troubling.

As they neared the throne, Salomonis caught sight of a familiar face among the Sun Faction's front ranks. Count Nicalo stood with perfect composure, his expression pleasant and attentive. Only someone who knew him well would notice the subtle wrongness—the slightly unnatural stillness, the eyes that reflected light incorrectly.

We're too late. The demon has already infested the Sun's court. Salomonis kept his expression neutral despite the realization burning through him.

David's shocking revelation about Count Nicalo's true nature during the Leviathan's Abyss mission had been difficult to believe at first, but the young man's uncanny perceptions had proven correct before. They had hoped to warn the capital before the corruption spread this far, but clearly the demonic influence had already reached the imperial court.

"Minister Salomonis," Duke Lorvantis greeted them as they reached the throne's dais, his voice carrying effortlessly through the chamber. "The empire honors your achievement. The Leviathan's Abyssal Rift has claimed countless expeditions over the centuries, yet your team not only survived but conquered."

The 𝘮ost uptodat𝑒 novels are pub𝙡ished on freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.

Salomonis bowed precisely the correct depth for his station—no more, no less. "House Ferrum serves as it always has, Your Grace. The glory belongs to the empire."

"Indeed." The Duke's smile didn't reach his eyes. "And to all who participated in this historic endeavor. I understand your official report mentions others who were present during the final confrontation."

A subtle probe, carefully worded. Salomonis had anticipated this line of questioning. The official record deliberately obscured certain details—particularly David's role and the true nature of what they'd encountered in the dungeon's depths.

"My report is comprehensive, Your Grace," Salomonis replied smoothly. "Though I fear administrative details poorly serve such an occasion."

"Humor me, Minister." The Duke gestured casually. "Our histories should accurately record all heroes who serve the empire, should they not? I believe there were others present—an alchemist and her apprentice, if I recall."

Salomonis inclined his head slightly. "Lady Yue of the Alchemist Guild and her daughter provided support services, yes. Their contributions to our medicinal preparations were invaluable."

"And they are not present today because...?"

"The alchemist and her apprentice elected to return to their duties immediately following the expedition," Salomonis explained smoothly. "Their contributions, while valuable to our preparatory work, did not extend to the final confrontation. As contracted support staff rather than official expedition members, their presence here would be... unconventional."

A murmur of understanding rippled through the assembly. The nobility had little interest in the comings and goings of common guild practitioners, particularly those who operated outside the court's social hierarchies.

Duke Lorvantis nodded, seemingly satisfied, but then his eyes sharpened. "And what of the young man mentioned by witnesses? I believe he was instrumental in the final confrontation with the entity in the abyssal chamber."

The question hung in the air, deceptively casual yet precisely targeted. Behind Salomonis, he sensed Siegfried shifting his weight slightly—a warrior's instinctive response to perceived threat.

"Several adventurers participated in various stages of the expedition," Salomonis answered, his tone remaining conversational. "The nature of such endeavors often sees participants come and go as circumstances require. Our core team—" he gestured to his three companions "—remained consistent throughout."

"Yet I'm told this particular individual displayed... unusual abilities."

Count Nicalo had drifted closer, his attention fixed on Salomonis with unnerving intensity. The slight unnatural sheen to his eyes confirmed what Salomonis had suspected—whatever wore Nicalo's skin was no longer human.