Chapter 293: Royal Angel

Lu Yan’s calm, almost arrogant demeanor, combined with his imposing figure seated atop the Golden Throne, completely detonated the already tense royal hall.

After a brief moment of dead silence came an eruption of volcanic fury.

“Arrogant! Absolutely arrogant beyond imagination!” a meticulously groomed old duke with a curled mustache trembled all over with rage, his face turning liver-purple. He pointed a shaking finger at Lu Yan, but was so furious he couldn’t even form a complete sentence.

“Outrageous! This is the royal palace of Victoria, the center of power that has stood for tens of thousands of years, not your underworld domain!” bellowed a marquis in luxurious court attire. His voice was hoarse with emotion, veins bulging on his neck, as if he might charge forward the next second.

“Foreign scoundrel! Your arrogance knows no bounds!”

“I acknowledge your extraordinary strength, sir, but that is no justification for trampling on the dignity of Victoria’s royal family and insulting us nobles!”

More voices of indignation rose like crashing waves. Some hot-blooded young nobles instinctively gripped the hilts of their swords, their eyes burning with humiliation. If not for their elders holding them back, they might have already drawn steel.

Their prior concessions to Lu Yan had stemmed mainly from the extreme importance of the Royal Scepter, and from the internal strife between the royal family and nobility.

With King Charles abdicating, the balance of power between royalty and nobility was shifting. That was the real reason the nobles had backed this change.

As for raw power, few among the royal family or nobility truly believed Lu Yan, acting alone, could overpower them all.

But now, at this pivotal moment of royal succession, Lu Yan had not only marched in bearing the Royal Scepter, but had gone so far as to forge a throne of gold higher than the king’s and sit upon it.

This wasn’t just interference—this was undisguised humiliation, a brutal trampling of the face of Victoria’s entire ruling class!

If they did nothing in response, the Victoria Kingdom’s royalty and nobility would become a laughingstock across the entire continent.

Yet amid this chaos and uproar, two people remained conspicuously calm.

The first was, naturally, Elizabeth.

She stood below, gazing up slightly at the figure on the Golden Throne, a complex light flickering in her eyes—surprise, understanding, and a deep, unspeakable excitement.

As one of the true leaders behind the union, she understood Lu Yan’s unfathomable strength and unpredictable methods better than anyone present.

While his domineering entrance had caught her off guard, it also completely calmed her anxious heart.

The other composed figure was none other than the old King Charles himself, seated upon the soon-to-be-abandoned royal throne.

He leaned back in his chair, and in his once-clouded eyes now gleamed a strange light.

He coldly watched the nobles erupt with fury, and a barely perceptible sneer tugged at the corner of his lips.

He knew full well: had the nobles’ original plan succeeded, royal power would’ve been further weakened, and he would’ve completely lost any influence.

But now, with this wildcard Lu Yan crashing in and throwing everyone’s plans into disarray in such a tyrannical fashion, Charles actually felt a spark of amusement.

As for Lu Yan sitting above him?

Ever since the Royal Scepter had been lost and he had been forced into abdication by a single sentence from this young man, King Charles no longer held any illusions about the sanctity of royal authority.

As the noise surged louder and louder, someone eventually had to step forward to restore order—or at least try to salvage some dignity.

An elder dressed in a regal robe of purple and gold, marked with the insignia of a prince, stepped out from the crowd.

His aura was deep and his gaze sharp. He was unmistakably a powerhouse at Sequence Three.

He walked to the center of the hall, looked up at Lu Yan on the Golden Throne, and spoke in a low, imposing voice, attempting to reason:

“Your Grace, the agreement we made with you was limited to the abdication of His Majesty the King.

Your current actions—holding the Royal Scepter and placing yourself above the king’s throne—don’t you think you’ve overstepped?”

Lu Yan’s indifferent gaze swept over the esteemed old prince like brushing off dust. He didn’t even bother to reply.

He merely raised his hand slightly and repeated his earlier command, his voice quiet yet cutting through the noise with absolute clarity:

“Continue.”

The moment the words fell, the Royal Scepter in his hand tapped the floor.

A boundless, invisible power was awakened in an instant. The fragment of uniqueness belonging to the Royal Path, housed within the scepter, erupted under Lu Yan’s will.

In a flash, every extraordinary being in the hall who walked the Royal Path felt a terrifying, indescribable pressure descend from the heavens.

A blurred, awe-inspiring phantom of a path—emanating supreme authority—descended from the void and enveloped the entire royal hall.

This majesty surpassed all worldly power and comprehension. It bore the will of a god and locked directly onto the Sequence Three prince who had spoken.

The dignified elder’s pupils shrank to pinpoints.

In his perception, the figure of Lu Yan on the throne expanded endlessly, becoming a supreme lord who sat at the very peak of the Royal Path and gazed down upon all existence.

That godlike pressure from the apex of the path crushed his soul and body like a billion tons of ocean water.

His legs began to tremble violently. His knees creaked under the weight, and a primal, soul-deep instinct to kneel before a higher being assaulted his will.

The essence of the Royal Path was hierarchy and absolute suppression. Suppression of the lower by the higher was written into the very rules of the path—virtually unavoidable.

Even though this prince had reached Sequence Three and was hailed as a demigod among mortals, when faced with the origin-level uniqueness of the Royal Path, he could not resist.

His knees buckled inch by inch. He clenched his teeth, veins bulging on his forehead as he tried to fight the shameful pressure—but it was all in vain.

Boom!

A heavy crash echoed through the hall. His knees slammed into the marble floor, which was reinforced with complex supernatural runes. The force of his Sequence Three strength, combined with his humiliation, left two deep craters in the stone, with cracks webbing outwards.

And all of this had been caused by Lu Yan—who didn’t even walk the Royal Path himself.

Ordinarily, someone not aligned with the Royal Path couldn’t have drawn out the uniqueness within the Royal Scepter so easily.

But with the structure of his divine underworld growing more complete and mighty, Lu Yan could now leverage his own authority to forcibly manipulate the power within the scepter—wielding it to crush Royal Path extraordinary beings like a divine sledgehammer.

As the Sequence Three prince knelt in shame, all the royals and high nobles in the hall—especially those who also walked the Royal Path—turned deathly pale.

Aside from the Church’s Creation Path, the highest combat strength in Victoria lay with those on the Royal Path.

Because it was the most complete of all paths available in the kingdom—and the one most likely to reach the peak.

But now, that same majority of top-tier powerhouses suddenly realized a horrifying truth:

If Lu Yan could wield the Royal Scepter to suppress even Sequence Three with ease, then most of them wouldn’t even be able to resist if they stood against him.

As the entire hall quaked in fear, a sigh that seemed to echo across time itself resounded faintly.

“Your Grace… you’ve crossed the line.”

The voice wasn’t loud, but it struck the hearts of everyone present like a hammer.

Before the words even fully faded, a thick, ominous aura silently spread from the depths beneath the palace, engulfing the grand hall.

The air turned viscous and icy. Light dimmed. Shadows writhed and twisted in every corner.

Then, without a sound, a towering figure formed entirely from black mist and deep darkness appeared in the center of the hall.

Its exact features were obscured, but its presence exuded a suffocating authority and stillness.

The moment it arrived, everyone in the hall felt the illusion of the earth splitting beneath their feet—a bottomless abyss yawning open to drag their souls into eternal damnation.

This was a powerful Sequence Two being—and not of the Royal Path!

At the same time, two more equally immense auras stirred deep underground. Like slumbering dragons, they locked onto the hall from afar.

Clearly, those two were also genuine Sequence Two terrestrial angels—but they likely followed the Royal Path. And at this moment, they remained hidden, forcibly suppressed by the power of the Royal Scepter in Lu Yan’s hand.

Seated on the Golden Throne, Lu Yan looked at the shadowy figure of black mist with interest. There was no fear in his gaze—only curiosity.

He raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk forming on his lips as he slowly said:

“Stygian River?”

Yes. From the moment this uninvited guest appeared, Lu Yan had sensed the aura of the Stygian River upon him.

A hoarse, ancient voice echoed from the mist, confirming Lu Yan’s guess:

“Sharp eyes, Your Grace. The path I follow is the long-lost Stygian River Path.”

The voice paused, tinged with sorrow and helplessness:

“The Stygian River Path once drew its power from the river that spanned the realms of life and death—its essence even closer to death than the mainstream Death Path.

But alas, the river was seized by the Undying King, and the path’s foundation collapsed. I only survive today thanks to the deep foundations of the Victoria royal family, which allowed me to barely maintain my existence.”

Then the voice turned sharp and threatening:

“Your Grace, I believe you know well—though I am Sequence Two of the Stygian River, I am not bound by your Royal Scepter.

If I act, I can temporarily suppress the scepter’s power.

And once the full might of the royal family is unleashed, no matter how powerful you are, you will not escape unscathed!”

“If you leave now, I can represent the royal family in letting bygones be bygones.”

The threat was clear.

Instantly, the atmosphere in the hall shifted again. The nobles, who had been suffocating under Lu Yan’s dominance, now saw a spark of hope in their eyes.

With this ancient angel unbound by the Royal Scepter stepping forward, and the other hidden forces of the royal family still in reserve, perhaps—just perhaps—they could drive away this terrifying man.

But to their surprise, Lu Yan didn’t respond with anger. Instead, he began slowly clapping.

His crisp applause echoed through the hall. His expression held only mocking amusement.

“Well said. But it just so happens that I have an old acquaintance of yours here. Why not have a chat with him first?”

“Hmph!” The Stygian Angel snorted coldly, clearly thinking Lu Yan was bluffing. His voice lowered, heavy with threat:

“This concerns the fate of Victoria’s royal power. No matter who you bring—”

His words cut off abruptly—like his throat had been seized.

Behind Lu Yan, space cracked open without warning.

From within the rift came countless chains forged of pure order, tightly binding an unimaginably massive figure.

It was a giant made entirely of bleached bones, cloaked in robes of eternal darkness. Even the outline of this being radiated a deathly aura that could freeze the soul, accompanied by a terrifying divinity above all life.

The moment this being appeared, every powerful figure in the hall gasped in disbelief.

“The Undying King?!”

Within the hollow eye sockets of the imprisoned Undying King, flickered a soul-fire that locked instantly onto the Stygian Angel.

The contempt and disdain in the evil god’s gaze were undisguised.

Even in chains, the Undying King didn’t regard this Sequence Two angel as anything worth noting.

And rightly so.

Though both walked the Stygian River Path, the Undying King had seized its uniqueness long ago and ascended as a true evil god. His power far surpassed that of any terrestrial angel.

Were it not for some unknown method Lu Yan had used to subdue him, the average angel wouldn’t even have a chance to flee before this being.

The rift showing the imprisoned Undying King vanished quickly—but that brief glimpse left waves of terror in the hearts of all who saw.

“The Undying King… was suppressed?” a noble muttered in disbelief.

“Impossible! He’s a god, nearly immortal after seizing the uniqueness of the Stygian River!” a royal stammered, drenched in cold sweat.

“I remember now… there was a massive supernatural disturbance near the graveyard a month ago. The Church claimed the Inquisition was purging powerful heretics.

Now it seems… that was when the Underworld suppressed the Undying King?” another noble pieced together the clues, sending chills down his own spine.

Silence fell once more over the hall—but this time it was the deathly silence of reverence and terror.

Upon the Golden Throne, Lu Yan’s expression remained calm as still water. As if revealing the Undying King’s imprisonment had been nothing more than a casual flourish.

Under the eyes of three terrestrial angels, several demigods, and the entire hall of nobles, Lu Yan once again swept his gaze across the room.

Then, slowly and calmly, he repeated:

“Continue.”

(End of Chapter)