While Maximilian dressed, his concubines, who had been observing the situation, rushed to his side. Sensing the gravity of the situation, they fussed over his attire, buttoning his shirt and straightening his sleeves, all the while glancing nervously at his expression.


    "Your Majesty… please, take me with you. I don''t want to die," one begged, her voice trembling.


    "Your Majesty, I''ll serve you faithfully—please don''t leave me behind," another implored.


    The concubines clung to him, their hands trembling as they gripped his garments. They knew the fate awaiting them should the palace fall—humiliation and death at the hands of the rebels. But their desperation only annoyed Maximilian further.


    "Get off me, you foolish women!" he snapped, shaking them off roughly. "What happens to you doesn''t concern me."


    He kicked one of the women aside in frustration, her cries of pain falling on deaf ears. Even as they recoiled in terror, one of his favorites, her tear-streaked face framed by soft blond hair, looked up at him with pleading blue eyes.


    "Your Majesty, are you abandoning me too?" she whispered in the fragile voice he had once adored.


    Under different circumstances, her tearful appeal might have softened his heart. But now, his expression turned cold. Without hesitation, he drew his sword.


    Before she could scream, she fell lifelessly to the ground, her blood splattering across the chamber. The other concubines gasped in horror and scrambled away, their anguished cries echoing through the room.


    Maximilian sheathed his sword, retrieved the imperial insignia, and strode toward the door. Behind him, the concubines, paralyzed by fear and grief, clung to each other, weeping.


    The emperor hurriedly stepped into the corridor, his ears catching the clamor near the entrance to the inner hall. Amid the noise, the voice of his youngest son, Oswald, rang out.


    "Everyone, open your eyes! The emperor has been extending his life through forbidden sorcery. Have none of you noticed anything suspicious?"


    "Silence, Crown Prince! It''s disgraceful enough to have been captured by the enemy—what kind of brainwashing have you fallen victim to?"


    "Brainwashing? Then, what about Chancellor Mufasa? Are you saying he''s been brainwashed as well? If the emperor is innocent, why would a man as wise as Mufasa betray him?"


    "Tch! That''s…"


    "Enough talk, Crown Prince! There''s no need to argue. The emperor is already a scourge upon the continent. Let''s just kill him!"


    "How dare you! Who is spewing such insolence?"


    As the trembling captain of the guard demanded to know, a white-haired, elderly knight stepped forward.


    "Me? I am Aaron, the former commander of the Celeste Empire''s Order of Knights. The emperor you''ve been serving has been accused of extending his life through forbidden arts. Now, step aside!"


    Listening to the exchange from the shadows, the emperor clenched his teeth in fury before retreating swiftly. A scourge upon the continent? That accursed Oswald! That damned Mufasa!


    Clutching the imperial insignia tightly, Maximilian quickened his pace. Only two choices remained to him now. He weighed his options carefully before settling on the one that would allow him to retain the throne and drive out the traitors. Determined, he sought out one of the palace''s hidden underground passages.


    Whether it succeeded or not, he had to try.


    The underground passage was dark and damp, but the faint sound of flowing water somewhere ahead brought a moment of relief. Tension that had gripped his chest began to loosen, and a small sigh of relief escaped him. Despite the oppressive air of the subterranean tunnel, Maximilian felt a flicker of hope.


    As he pressed onward, an underground canal came into view, winding its way through the passage. It was just as described in the records left by his predecessors. Thick stone walls, carved from bedrock, were now overgrown with moss, and the water glimmered green where it touched the stone. Above, ancient stone arches soared, casting a solemn atmosphere over the scene.


    The water itself shimmered faintly in the darkness, illuminating the space with a soft glow. Along the narrow stone path beside the canal, rusty handles and remnants of old lantern hooks could be seen. In some places, magical lanterns still flickered dimly, serving as guiding lights.


    Maximilian, awestruck by the grandeur of the scene, paused briefly before raising his voice to call out. Deep in the heart of Famillian Palace, he invoked the secrets of the imperial bloodline.


    "Ancestors! Where are you? The nation you built is teetering on the brink of destruction. Please, help us!"


    His cry echoed through the underground space, reverberating against the stone walls. But the echo soon faded, leaving behind a silence so profound it felt as though all sound had been drained from the world. Maximilian scanned his surroundings anxiously.


    Suddenly, the calm surface of the water began to ripple. A silvery light emerged, growing stronger with each passing moment. The glow spread across the walls and ceiling, soft yet brilliant, and from the light, a colossal figure slowly took shape. Sёar?h the N?velFire.nёt website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Before Maximilian stood an enormous elephant, its body glowing with a pure white light. The gentle radiance flowed over its massive form, accentuating its muscles and skin. Intricate patterns, bearing the weight of time, were etched into its tusks—patterns unmistakably resembling the Famillian imperial crest.


    The elephant''s massive ears flapped slowly, its presence filling the space with a tangible weight. The air pulsed with a deep, rhythmic vibration with every movement, as if resonating with the power of the ancient being. It was the ancestral weapon that had allowed the imperial bloodline to rise above the mightiest tribes and claim supreme authority.


    Unlike Maximilian''s awe-stricken expression, the elephant''s gaze held a trace of irritation.


    [What is it? I told you not to disturb me unless it was absolutely necessary. I am in the midst of transcending my current state.]


    Maximilian, humbled before the semi-divine being, lowered his head in reverence. This ancestor, the last of the beastfolk lineage, had transcended mortality by partially severing his soul from the material plane.


    The emperor''s eyes gleamed with envy. Only those of pure beastfolk blood could achieve such a state. If he had been capable of using such methods, he wouldn''t be hunted as a pariah across the continent.