CHAPTER 458: CHOICE

Loyalty to the royal family, loyalty to the empire, and strict adherence to all commands issued by the emperor, these so-called oaths were actually already written into the imperial law, requiring all citizens to strictly abide by them.

However, compared to those so-called power clauses, the Imperial Scepter, currently placed before Astrid and constantly emitting magical light, clearly had a stronger binding effect than any written law.

"Like all spatial storage devices discovered to date, the Imperial Scepter originated from the Old World before the Cataclysm, forged by the ancient humans of that time."

Hibbort’s voice was low, his rough palm gently caressing the metal shaft of the scepter.

"During the Lorraine Empire period, the seventh emperor once bestowed it upon a great noble with outstanding military achievements, who became the first king of the Valeria Kingdom."

"After years of research, he deciphered the scepter’s secret and imbued it with his own blood. Since then, only those with royal blood can fully control the Imperial Scepter and unleash its full power."

This was also one of the reasons why becoming the emperor required the Valeria royal bloodline.

"It is a symbol of the empire’s supreme authority, representing an irresistible arbiter."

"And in addition to this public display function, it is also an excellent spatial storage device and magic amplifier, while simultaneously possessing an extremely strong binding effect on established contracts."

"Anyone who swears an oath on it is bound to uphold their promise. Those who break their vows will suffer the punishment bestowed by the scepter, and even a middle tier Arcanist mage will find it difficult to resist it head-on."

Looking at the entire Valeria Empire, how many people could reach the level of a mid-tier Arcanist mage? It was no exaggeration to say that oath-breakers would inevitably be punished.

Astrid remained silent, gazing at the Imperial Scepter in Hibbort’s hand. Her scarlet eyes reflected the candlelight on the table, like two brightly colored rubies.

She could fully understand Hibbort’s considerations. Even if he wanted to trust her out of personal feelings, her identity would always be the emperor’s adopted daughter, not a direct royal bloodline member. As long as this holds true, the empire will always face the risk of being usurped by an outsider.

The man before her was no longer the benevolent father of the past, but an iron-blooded emperor who only had the interests of the royal family.

"Emperor Father..." Astrid pursed her lips, her voice soft.

"With your help, I have already gained control of most of the noble factions in the Imperial Capital. Even rejecting this proposal would not be difficult."

Even if the old emperor, in his furious rage, wanted to kill her, the now flickering candle that was Hibbort would find it difficult to control the series of disturbances that would arise from the death of the Third Princess. Batches of nobles who had already agreed to cooperate would not accept the death of their partner, leaving behind a pile of unattended bad debts.

Hibbort wanted Astrid to become regent, assisting with state affairs, itself indicating her crucial importance.

Moreover, if Amalia knew of Hibbort’s actions, it would undoubtedly cause strong dissatisfaction from the new heir. Once Astrid was in trouble, a conflict between the two sides would be inevitable, and Hibbort had no better successor. At that point, things will only become more complicated.

Hearing Astrid’s words, Hibbort’s eyes remain calm and unwavering. After a long time, the man slowly spoke.

"Your judgment is correct."

He indeed had no means to force Astrid to make an oath. The silver-haired girl before him had to live until Amalia ascended the throne. At least, before the internal and external troubles were completely resolved, she absolutely could not die.

"Therefore, my choice of words is..."

The man held up the few golden strands of hair, his palm trembling slightly as if they weighed a thousand pounds, his tone exceptionally aged.

"I hope you can swear an oath to the Imperial Scepter."

The emperor, who had been strong towards his subordinates his entire life and never asked anyone for anything, now used the word "hope" in front of his most favored daughter.

Whether Astrid refused or agreed, she would not be restricted in any way today. The only difference was whether he could let go of his worries and die completely.

As for the distant future, there were Duke Charles and Academy Head Anthony, two ministers entrusted with the care of the heir, who were nobles loyal to the royal family. If a usurper truly appeared in the future, they would naturally take action.

Listening to Hibbort’s voice, which had become somewhat hoarse as if he had phlegm, Astrid crossed her legs together. Her smooth, black-stockinged calves brushed together under the table, the faint rustle of silk nearly lost amid the sharp click of her heels against the marble floor.

After half a minute, Astrid softly replied.

"I understand, Emperor Father..."

The old man before her had raised her for years, given her countless glories and riches, and shown her almost boundless affection. Although these were all due to her parents’ outstanding contributions to the empire and their past acquaintance, Astrid still had this kindness.

Even taking a step back, what Hibbort hoped she would do actually coincided with Astrid’s original intentions.

She had nurtured Amalia not to usurp the throne in her name, but to let this blonde tyrant from the original story lead the empire and its people towards prosperity and strength.

If a single promise could bring a moment of peace to this emperor, who, upon learning of her unauthorized establishment of a new monarch, still chose to observe rather than immediately exile her, Astrid would not be stingy.

"I will swear an oath to the Imperial Scepter, but the specific content cannot entirely follow what was just said."

Astrid spoke softly, her fair, delicate face appearing even more exquisite in the soft light.

"Loyalty to the Valeria Empire’s royal family is too broad. There is more than one member of the royal family, and specific situations require specific analysis. There are also not a few collateral bloodlines who wish to use the name of a bastard daughter to cause trouble and take Amalia’s place."

"As for ’taking her commands as the primary course of action, with no defiance of,’ if this clause were to be fulfilled as regent, I fear that even offering suggestions on state affairs would be considered defiance."

"The future reform of magical devices cannot be achieved overnight, and I cannot guarantee that the royal family’s interests will steadily increase in every period."

After her gentle explanation, looking at Hibbort’s tired eyes, Astrid proactively reached out to touch the Imperial Scepter beside the dining table. The moment her slender white fingertip touched the gem, a blurred figure appeared in her mind, it was Amalia, with golden hair and blue eyes, after removing the plant membrane.

In the ethereal realm, Astrid also felt a special connection between her soul and those few strands of hair.

"Therefore, Astrid Calliste hereby swears."

"I will be loyal to Amalia Valeria as both a sister and a subject, ensuring she holds the final decision-making power as emperor, and I will not, by any means, subjectively covet the throne."

"Whether she grows old, falls ill, or becomes lost in a maze with no way home."

Carefully experiencing the wondrous feeling of the contract being formed and transmitted to her soul, it was as if something instantly connected her with Amalia, who had already entered the bedchamber.

Opening her eyes, the oath was completed. The gem embedded in the Imperial Scepter stopped flashing and returned to its original static state.

This should be enough.

Coming back to her senses, Astrid moved her knees a few times.

Although she had simplified the ritual and carefully limited its scope, this single promise not to covet the throne was enough to let the aging emperor finally set his mind at ease.

Hibbort, upon hearing this, a rare hint of relief appeared in his blue eyes, and he slowly spoke.

"Thank you."

It was the first time he had thanks to a junior.

Astrid could have made no promises, refused this layer of shackles, but now swearing an oath to the scepter was merely to put his mind at ease.

Astrid shook her head upon hearing this, softly replying.

"Emperor Father, you exaggerate."

Whether those previous words were Hibbort’s true thoughts or a deliberate display of imperial power, she no longer cared.

"If it wasn’t for your protection, with my past arrogant and overbearing nature, I would probably have already incurred resentment and faced consequences."

Although being corrupted by the upper nobility was the main reason for developing such a personality, ultimately, she couldn’t blame all of it on her father’s kindness just because she was spoiled.

No sooner had Astrid finished speaking than a rhythmic knock came from the room door. Hibbort used his mental power to open the door, and a servant dressed as a maid entered the dining room.

"Your Majesty, Princess Amalia requests an audience."

Astrid will pay her respects to the old emperor every morning and evening, but Amalia will not.

Hibbort responded seemingly casually.

"Let her in."

She was probably worried that he had some troublesome business with Astrid, which was why she came to check immediately after their necessary social interactions were over.

Compared to her biological father who wished to die sooner, Astrid was clearly much more important.

The maid nodded at the command and left the dining room. In less than half a minute, hurried footsteps approached, like small hard-soled leather shoes treading on marble tiles.

Amalia, dusty from her journey, walked into the emperor’s private dining room. The girl’s bright golden hair was tied into a butterfly knot with a slender red ribbon, naturally falling on both shoulders. As her two white-stockinged legs moved back and forth, her pristine white skirt flared, and her smooth hair swayed gently beside her.

"Good evening, Your Majesty."

Amalia’s words still maintain a facade of respect, but her accompanying facial expression was utterly cold, devoid of any genuine reverence.

Hibbort didn’t mind these things. He understood that the golden-haired girl before him hated him to the core, and those buried emotions from the past prevented him from treating this biological daughter as he did Astrid.

Nodding in response, Hibbort then watched Amalia sit beside Astrid, like a bird long gone from its nest finally seeing its way home.

"Did His Majesty need to see Sister for anything?"

"Just discuss the arrangements for the coronation ceremony a few days from now."

Hibbort did not mention the oath he had just made Astrid swear, and the latter did not plan to tell Amalia so soon.

As the person caught between them, Astrid did not wish for her father, who had raised her, and her most beloved sister to clash at this point in time.

Amalia, hearing this, looked at Astrid with a hint of suspicion. Her hand, previously resting on her skirt, shifted sideways, resting on the woman’s smooth, soft, black-stockinged thigh.

Astrid felt the warm touch, her gaze softened to see a tender white hand resting on her skirt, accompanied by the clear girl’s slender, soft, white-stockinged legs leaning closer.

Placing her hand on Amalia’s back to reassure her, Astrid replied softly.

"Yes, we’ve discussed most of it."

Firework displays, parade routes, the secrets of the Imperial Scepter, now, all that remained was for the day to officially arrive, and she could place the golden-haired girl before her on her rightful imperial throne.

Looking at the two imperial princesses sitting side by side nearby, Hibbort had no leisure to pay attention to the small movements under the table. He spoke indifferently.

"After I die, do not announce my death immediately. I have already informed Dean Anthony and Minister Edmund regarding the funeral arrangements; they are aware of what to do."

"Do not announce your death immediately?" Hearing Hibbort said this, Astrid’s brows furrowed slightly.

"It’s June..."

In such hot weather, not burying the dead was somewhat inappropriate, although Astrid could understand Hibbort’s intention in doing so.

"Anthony has an ice coffin, regularly replenished with ice-attribute crystal stones, which will ensure the body does not decay."

Hibbort, who had already prepared himself mentally, spoke calmly, as if he were discussing not his own funeral arrangements after death, but some trivial, unimportant matters.

"As long as I live, the petty individuals below will not dare to act rashly. You must use this time to eliminate hidden dangers and solve problems as much as possible."

Compared to Lucas, Amalia’s ascension to the throne would be significantly more difficult, requiring every aspect to be meticulously considered.

Listening to Hibbort’s words, and thinking that even after his death, he did not wish to be immediately buried, wanting to use that brief respite to buy them time, Astrid nodded, responding earnestly.

"I will, Emperor Father."

Years of planning, finally coming to fruition today. Even without Hibbort’s assistance, she will go all out to ensure Amalia’s legitimacy and widely accepted succession to the throne.

Hibbort, hearing this, involuntarily brought his hand to his mouth and coughed heavily a few times, causing the stubble on his chin to tremble slightly.

"There’s nothing else."

What he needed to convey was basically this; the rest will all be left to Astrid.

Amalia, hearing this, narrowed her blue eyes and responded in a low voice.

"Then we will not disturb Your Majesty’s rest."

She indeed did not want to stay in the same room with the golden-haired man before her for too long.

With that, Amalia took Astrid’s hand and stood up, the bell-shaped white silk cuffs touching the woman’s night-sky-colored pleated skirt.

Astrid looked at the man at the dining table, bent her knees, and performed a dignified bow, just as she had hundreds of times before.

"Tonight’s dinner was oily and heavily salted. Some fruit and hot tea would aid digestion."

"Your daughter takes her leave. I hope the Emperor Father takes good care of his health."