Hearing this, Otis sneered and slapped his flawless palm on the armrest of the golden throne.

"boom!"

"Is the so-called 'emperor' of Anzeta kidding?"

"He actually provided weapons to the Thracian Kingdom! Doesn't he know that the Thracian Kingdom is their inevitable enemy in terms of geography?"

"Moreover...more importantly, he actually dared to reject my friendship! This is such a precious opportunity. As a noble descendant of God, I have already given him enough face, but he actually dared to reject it!"

Otis' tone became increasingly angry, and his majestic and oppressive voice echoed in the empty hall.

"Stupid red dragon!"

Along with his rage, there seemed to be flames burning in his golden eyes. Even dark clouds descended from the sky and thunder rumbled, and it seemed that a heavy rain was about to fall.

This is the embodiment of the power of the Supreme Heaven. As the proud descendants of the gods, their emotional changes will affect the surrounding environment and even manifest as abnormal celestial phenomena, causing disasters to all things around them.

Feeling the King's anger, the ministers around him, Cassander, became anxious and tried to dissuade him.

"Your Majesty, calm down!"

"It's just an evil dragon from a remote area. It's not worth your anger."

"Yes, you are the future emperor of Fadlan and will rule all of Feanso. You don't have to bother with him."

His Majesty Otis is proud.

Even arrogant.

This is well known throughout the Kingdom of Cassander and even the entire continent of Feanso.

As a noble descendant of gods and the eldest son of Aragon I, Otis received much attention and admiration. He considered himself the natural ruler of Fadlan and despised all mundane things.

From childhood to adulthood, no one dared to refuse him.

And the "Red Emperor" who had the audacity to reject him turned him down and left a deep impression on him.

Otis had no place to vent his anger for several days, causing a gloom to hang over the holy city during this period.

Among the three kings, the eldest son Otis was recognized as the most powerful, but he was not as smart as Wilham or as rational as Elodie.

Naven Besalius was worried. He knew that deciding foreign policy based on pure emotion would inevitably lead to failure, and the current Cassander Kingdom was showing such a trend.

In order to spread the rumor that "whoever controls the Holy City controls the throne", His Majesty Otis exhausted all his strength to seize the Holy City, even going to war with Thrace and Seleucid at the same time.

This also meant that the national strength of the Kingdom of Cassander, which was originally the most powerful of the three kingdoms, was being continuously consumed, and the gap between it and the other two countries was narrowing step by step.

Naven had an extremely presumptuous and bold idea in his mind.

The holy city is no longer a heritage.

It's a wound.

A wound that will keep the Kingdom of Cassander bleeding.

And what His Majesty Otis cares most about is still not the interests of the Kingdom of Cassander - but his own face, which is ridiculous.

"Perhaps, we should use other methods to guide His Majesty onto the right path."

"His Majesty."

Naven took a step forward and bowed slightly.

"As the eldest son of the great 'Sun Emperor', you are recognized by the entire Feanso as the most noble person in this land. There is no doubt about that."

"But the so-called 'Burning Emperor' is just a simple-minded, strong-limbed red dragon. He doesn't care about your status, nor does he understand how precious your friendship is."

Otis's expression then eased slightly, the anger in his pupils subsided, and even the haze in the sky gradually dissipated.

Naven continued respectfully:
"The red dragon doesn't have your foresight. His greedy and short-sighted eyes only see one thing - gold coins."

"And Wilham must have used enough gold coins to bribe the red dragon and gain his support."

Otis said unhappily, "Didn't I bring him treasure?"

Naven quickly replied: "You know, Wilham is known as the 'deceitful man' and likes to stir up trouble secretly."

"He must have shamelessly bribed the stupid red dragon with more gold coins in private, which led to its rejection." Otis nodded in agreement and commented, "Oh, a cunning villain and a short-sighted red dragon."

Naven catered to Otis’s idea and quickly agreed: “Yes, all of them combined are not even one ten-thousandth of yours.”

"only."

"Just what?"

Naven raised his head, his tone earnest.

"Your Majesty, I hope you can allow me to go to the Burning Empire again."

Otis's face suddenly darkened: "Why? That so-called 'empire' just rejected my honor. Do I have to let them humiliate me?"

"Your Majesty, please listen to me."

"That red dragon can turn against Thrace, a natural enemy, for gold coins, so it can certainly help us for more gold coins."

"Your Majesty, please let me try again, not only for myself, but also for the future of the Kingdom of Cassander, and more importantly, for you to be able to recover Holy Fadlan and become a great emperor comparable to your father."

Hearing this, Otis' pupils shrank slightly.

He was a little shaken.

Compared with becoming an emperor, what does that anger and humiliation matter?
When he possesses the power that Aragon I once had, any force will be nothing but chickens and dogs in front of him, and the so-called "Burning Empire" can be destroyed with a flick of his hand.

Otis' tone softened, and he leaned back on the throne:

"Naven Besalius, I will give you one last chance."

"My minimum requirement for you is to get those weapons that can be used by mortals. I hope you won't let me down."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Naven bowed deeply, and then he breathed a sigh of relief.

Having witnessed the coronation ceremony with his own eyes, he deeply understood that the Burning Empire was by no means a marginal force. It could have a huge impact on the situation on the continent and even affect the future of Cassander.

And he needs to try his best to gain a military alliance with the Burning Empire, at least to prevent it from leaning towards Thrace.

The meeting was over and the ministers left.

Under Otis's strong orders of "Get out!" and "Go to hell!", even the guards and maids in the palace were driven out.

The huge palace suddenly became empty, with only Otis Aragon left.

Otis sat on the golden throne, covering his face with his hands, his expression filled with shock and anger, his perfect body trembling.

"no no"

"I can feel my strength and my life slipping away! They're slipping away!"

Otis kept mumbling to himself.

Through the gaps between his white fingers, Otis's face was no longer flawless, and a faint crack appeared on the side of his cheek.

Otis was not afraid of the demons of the abyss, nor of the devils of hell, but he was afraid of the smallest crack.

This is the biggest fear in his heart - he is afraid of losing his current status, and even more afraid of becoming an ordinary person again.

"It means I will age and even die."

"Damn it, I'm a descendant of God!"

He shouted.

Then, as if grasping a life-saving straw, Otis whispered to himself:
"Yes. As long as we perform the ritual, everything will be fine, and I will continue to be immortal."

He looked down at his smooth palms, as if cracks were about to appear on them.

"It's too late. We must unify Holy Fadlan as soon as possible and become the true Emperor of Fadlan. Only then can we regain the grace of Amaunator."

"As long as I can become a real emperor."

Otis tightly grasped the golden scepter that symbolized the supreme imperial power and said this. (End of this chapter)