Not far away, Jon Gibran gently swirled his wine glass, watching the scene through the crimson liquid, a faint smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
In truth, all of this was his doing.
The Privy Councilor was old and had long ceased to manage affairs.
The power he left behind naturally transferred to Jon, who was closest to him.
All the delays the Hero encountered stemmed from Jon’s subtle arrangements.
The reason was simple, not directed at the Hero, but a complex and very practical issue—
The imperial treasury was out of money.
Of course, that wasn’t the main point.
The worst and most troublesome aspect was—the treasury’s books showed there was still money.
Money on the books, but none in reality—a common state of affairs.
After all, accounts are rigid, but people are flexible.
Besides, he hadn’t squandered that money; it had been used for more important purposes.
Tax revenues decreased year by year, and finances grew weaker annually.
Both he and his father, the King, saw this clearly and were anxious in their hearts.
Everyone wanted to solve this problem early.
Solving it inevitably meant opening up new growth points and improving old production methods.
And improvements always cost money; otherwise, you couldn’t even hire a magic apprentice.
But this matter couldn’t be brought to light.
If the Hero followed the procedures to the end and insisted on getting to the truth, the entire Empire would lose face.
There was no choice.
He could only delay, at least until the autumn harvest ended and taxes from various regions were delivered, giving the treasury some room to maneuver.
As for the people who died in the meantime… he was powerless to help.
“It’s alright, Jon.”
Gibran looked concerned, earnestly offering Jon advice while also diverting trouble elsewhere.
“We can think of other methods.”
He frowned, pretending to have just remembered.
“Oh, right. I heard the Church, under the pretense of disaster relief, has raised quite a lot of money in the Imperial Capital… Is that true?”
Jon was taken aback.
“It seems so.”
“You might as well go and ask.”
Gibran smiled.
“Jon, I think no one is more qualified than you to manage these donations.”
—
At the other end of the banquet hall.
The night breeze on the terrace stirred Yuna’s skirt.
Leaning against the railing, she looked as beautiful as a goddess under the moonlight.
A young server passed by with a tray, his eyes secretly glancing at Yuna, sweeping over her before quickly darting away, his cheeks rapidly flushing red.
“Please wait.”
Yuna suddenly called out to the server.
The server was startled, falling to his knees with a thud, nearly in tears.
“I’m sorry, Saintess! I didn’t mean to, I shouldn’t have looked at you… You’re too beautiful…”
He was genuinely afraid.
Forget these important figures; even slightly pretty women from outside the capital despised poor, low-status men like him.
Last time, a colleague accidentally glanced at Princess Margaret and had his eyes gouged out by Her Highness.
“There’s no need to be so nervous. Admiring beauty is human nature.”
Yuna looked at the server, her smile gentle.
The server felt as if granted amnesty.
He wiped his tears, keeping his head bowed.
“Thank you, Saintess… Your soul is as noble and beautiful as your appearance…”
“We are all children of God. I am not noble, nor are you lowly.”
“No, no, no. I am but dust. Please, do not mind me at all.”
The server dared not agree.
He rose, intending to leave.
“Look into my eyes.”
Yuna spoke softly, her voice carrying a trace of heart-stirring power bestowed by Divine Arts.
Amidst the emotional rollercoaster, the server’s heart was filled with goodwill and trust towards Yuna, allowing the Divine Arts to achieve optimal effect.
He instinctively looked up, gazing into Yuna’s eyes.
Her clear, azure eyes rippled like gentle waves, the deep blue at their center like a vortex, constantly devouring his attention and his reason.
The server stared, dumbfounded.
His entire person froze, gazing foolishly, his expression growing increasingly numb, lifeless like a puppet.
“Go.”
Yuna lightly flicked her fingers.
A few drops of colorless, odorless liquid fell into a wine glass on the tray.
“Take this wine to the tea room. Give it to the Brave One. Place it before him.”
The server nodded woodenly.
Carrying the wine tray, he left the terrace like a marionette, passing through the crowd towards the tea room in the corner.
Just as he was about to enter the tea room, a hand suddenly reached out, blocking him.
It was Ananna.
Ananna had been in a state of high tension all evening, both because of the princess’s “first night plan” and because… she was about to lose her virginity.
Nervousness, shyness, secret anticipation… too many emotions stretched her nerves to the limit, making her keenly notice this server’s odd behavior.
His eyeballs hadn’t moved at all.
His path was too direct, his purpose overly strong.
Ananna, without changing her expression, pulled the server behind a pillar.
“Who sent you?”
“God… the Goddess… the Goddess smiled at me…”
The server answered in a muddled, incoherent way.
Ananna’s gaze sharpened, noticing that he instinctively protected one particular glass of wine.
She dipped her finger into the liquid and lightly tasted it with the tip of her tongue.
“Who is this wine for?”
“The… the Brave One… God loves him… God favors him…”
Ananna’s expression darkened.
No matter what, someone wanted to give the Hero something strange to drink.
She would not allow it.
It might even disrupt her and the princess’s plan.
She suddenly acted, using magic to seal the server’s six senses.
Then, she swapped this glass of wine with the one next to it.
“Go. Take the other one over.”
The server nodded woodenly.
‘Not sure what kind of poison it is. Let that Pupu drink it. If things blow up, we can even use the Hero’s influence to expose the mastermind.’
‘Good thing I’m a step ahead.’
Ananna couldn’t help but smile.
The server, still in a daze, entered the tea room.
The moment he stepped inside, the invisible Ailita, with lightning speed, swapped the two glasses back to their original positions.
Simultaneously, she took out [Emerald Dream] and infused it into the glass without the drug.
‘Good thing I’m a step ahead.’
Ailita chuckled inwardly.
‘Heh, you think you can ruin my fun tonight?’
The two glasses of wine were placed before Jon and Liya.
The server shook his head as if waking from a dream.
He looked around blankly, feeling he had forgotten something but unable to recall what.
Bewildered, he left.
At that moment, Jon was discussing with the Second Prince how to get the Church’s donations and had no time to drink.
Liya, however, had been busy for a long time.
She had finally managed to cut off a portion of the [Mark of Bliss] sealed within the pink magic stone on her necklace and secretly hid it on her person to study later.
She calmly put the processed necklace back on.
The intricate operation had made her a bit thirsty.
Seeing the fine wine the server brought, she licked her lips and hopped down from Jon’s shoulder.
She was about to dive into the glass for a hearty drink to replenish the moisture she’d lost earlier.
Suddenly, a thought flashed in her mind.
‘That person… might she have tampered with the wine?’
“Hiss… very likely.”
Liya quickly began examining the fine wine.
She extracted a bit of the liquid for close observation.
Relying on her rich magical foundation and the Water Demon Beast’s keen perception of liquids, she soon detected a trace of abnormality.
‘There’s a drug! Absolutely a drug!’
Upon closer study, Liya’s heart began to pound with fear.
She vaguely sensed this magical drug was extremely similar to one invented by the Elven race—[Emerald Dream].
To obtain Ancient Elven Magic, she had explored many Elven ruins.
She considered herself quite knowledgeable about this race.
The Elves had once created a glorious and ancient civilization.
High Elves had long lifespans, exceptional intelligence, and were natural spellcasters and magical geniuses.
It was even suspected that humans were pets created by the Elves.
But the Elves later fell.
Glorious magic solved all problems.
They no longer feared hunger or natural disasters; even True Dragons were regularly hunted by them.
Thus, they turned their spears against each other.
Elven nobles warred with commoners, Sun Elves fought Dark Elves, and it even developed into opposition between female and male Elves.
Hedonism and nihilism prevailed.
They invented [Emerald Dream], a fantasy-like magical drug that wasn’t addictive or physically harmful but was more terrifying than addiction and harm.
Later… the Elves collectively left the continent for the Titan Lands, leaving behind countless ruins for later generations to discover.
Humans thus rose to prominence.
The Four Major True Gods and the Goddess of Magic were born in that era.
Liya had a general understanding of [Emerald Dream]’s effects.
‘Despicable… truly despicable! Such a lowly trick, and an Elven potion at that. No need to think; it must be Ailita!’
But the question was, why would Ailita drug her?
Liya thought nervously.
First the [Mark of Bliss], then a drug… The targeting was clear.
This was leading towards her losing her virginity.
Given the Elves’ fun-loving nature, doing such a thing wasn’t strange.
But the problem was, with the Hero by her side, who could make her lose her virginity?
Wait!
Liya’s eyes widened suddenly.
‘If the man to make her lose her virginity… is the Hero…’
Her back instantly tightened.
Looking again at Jon’s tall, robust physique, her cheeks flushed crimson, and she felt an unprecedented sense of pressure.
‘Maybe the Hero is also affected. He’s not as alert as I am…’
Liya took a deep breath.
A solution suddenly popped into her mind—
Knock the Hero out.
She secretly swapped their wine glasses.
Jon didn’t notice, or perhaps, even if he did, he wouldn’t care.
After the swap, Liya let out a long sigh of relief, patting her chest.
“Good thing I’m a step ahead!”
wow good thinking, if only both of the drinks wasnt drugged….
Boy, she never saw Princess Bride before transferring did he.