Chapter 854: Confrontating The Imperial Family
"No matter how much blood he spilled to build this empire, he will pay — for his own sins and for his daughter’s audacity!" Sylvia muttered coldly, her voice sharp as a blade and her eyes filled with disdain.
Mireya silently nodded, her expression as icy as Sylvia’s. Yuan and the rest of his wives followed with solemn faces, their resolve firm.
"Don’t worry, Mireya. You have our full support," Valeria said with a reassuring smile. "Do whatever you want — we will stand with you."
"Thanks." Mireya’s lips curved into a faint smile before her face hardened again. Her emerald eyes locked on the Imperial Palace below, burning with killing intent.
The palace itself was a breathtaking marvel — a colossal, towering structure dominating the heart of the capital, gleaming with gold and white stone. Its grand courtyards and manicured gardens reflected the wealth and power of the Imperial Family.
But to Mireya, that beauty was nothing but a cruel facade. She knew what lay beneath: blood and bones. The entire Golden Lion Empire was a graveyard, its foundations built on the corpses of tribes crushed under Emperor Raghar’s ambition.
"Shall we head down and confront the Imperial Family first, before we begin?" Julie asked with a sly chuckle, her eyes glittering with anticipation.
"There’s no need to rush," Mireya replied, her voice low and deadly. "I want to take my revenge slowly — savor every second of their despair."
—
Inside the Imperial Palace, Emperor Raghar sat at his desk, drowning in paperwork. Beside him, Empress Lindy quietly assisted, sorting and reviewing documents with elegant precision.
Suddenly, Raghar’s pen froze mid-stroke. His hand trembled slightly, and his expression shifted — first to seriousness, then to confusion.
’Why... is my heart beating so fast? And this strange dread... why does it feel like something terrible is about to happen?’ Raghar’s thoughts churned as unease flooded him.
Empress Lindy noticed his sudden stillness and frowned softly. "What’s wrong? Are you tired? We can stop for tonight and rest if you’re feeling unwell."
But Raghar didn’t answer immediately. His brows knitted as if trying to make sense of something beyond his grasp, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead.
"I... I don’t know why," he finally said after a long pause, his voice low and unsettled. "But suddenly I feel... as if something bad — something very bad — is coming. It’s strange... I can’t explain it."
"Are you sure you’re alright? It must just be exhaustion," Empress Lindy said softly, her tone gentle as she reached to steady him. "You’ve been working too hard. Perhaps you’re only imagining things because you’re tired."
"No... I don’t think it’s that simple." Raghar’s voice was low but firm, his golden eyes dark with unease. "My instincts have never failed me before. Something’s not right... I can feel a great calamity drawing near."
"Husband," Lindy sighed, squeezing his shoulder with a reassuring hand, "don’t speak such nonsense. Nothing will happen to us. You’re only worrying yourself too much."
Raghar fell silent, wrestling with the dread in his chest. After a long breath, he finally nodded, forcing a small smile toward his wife.
"Maybe you’re right... Perhaps it’s just fatigue." He exhaled heavily and leaned back in his chair. "Let’s go eat something and take a break from this work."
—
Suddenly, the doors slammed open. An Imperial Guard rushed in without knocking, his armor clattering as he dropped to one knee, head bowed so low it nearly touched the floor. His face was pale with fear.
"Your Highness! Please forgive me for entering without permission!" he cried, his voice shaking. "I bear urgent news!"
Raghar’s sharp gaze snapped to him, cold and commanding. Lindy also turned, startled by the guard’s uncharacteristic breach of protocol.
"If your news is truly important, I’ll pardon this disrespect," Raghar said in a voice that cut like a blade.
"But if it isn’t..." His golden eyes gleamed with deadly threat. "Prepare to lose your head. Do you understand?"
"I-I understand, Your Highness!" the guard stammered, trembling under the weight of the emperor’s presence.
"Speak," Raghar ordered.
The guard swallowed hard and blurted out, "A group of... of mysterious individuals is standing outside the palace gates. Among them are Queen Mireya, Lady Sylvia, Crimson Vrasha, and Lady Kitsura."
The words hit the room like thunder.
Raghar and Lindy froze where they stood. Color drained from their faces as if an icy tide had swept over them. The Emperor’s body went rigid; Lindy’s lips parted in stunned silence.
It felt as if a massive storm had appeared at their gates — a storm powerful enough to swallow the empire whole.
"...So my hunch," Raghar whispered hoarsely, his eyes wide with grim realization, "was right all along. Chaos... has come to our doorstep."
"D-Did... did Queen Mireya find out that it was our daughter who placed the bounty on her head?" Empress Lindy asked in a trembling voice. Her face had turned pale as parchment, and her fingers gripped the armrest of her throne so tightly her knuckles whitened.
"I’m not certain," Emperor Raghar replied grimly, his tone low and heavy, "but that is indeed a strong possibility. Otherwise, why else would she come here?"
He paused, his jaw tightening. "Let us not waste time worrying over what we cannot change. This is my empire. No one touches my family."
He turned to Lindy, his expression sharp and commanding. "Come. We must meet them face-to-face and hear the reason for their sudden arrival. If Queen Mireya has come without sending a formal notice, then this is no ordinary visit."
But even as he said the words, a shadow crossed Raghar’s face.
’Though I say this with confidence... I am not certain I can stop them. A single one of those women could dominate a battalion. Four of them together...’ He swallowed the uneasy thought and straightened his back, forcing the look of an unshaken emperor.
—
Moments later, Emperor Raghar and Empress Lindy arrived in the grand hall of the Golden Lion Palace. Both took their seats on their ornate thrones, cloaked in regal authority and outward arrogance.
"Bring our guests before us," Raghar commanded, his voice deep and steady though his heart felt a faint tremor.
"As you wish, Your Highness," a servant replied with a bow before hurrying to the massive golden doors.
A few tense minutes passed. Then the doors creaked open, and the servant returned — leading the visitors inside.
The moment Raghar’s eyes fell on Mireya, his entire expression changed. His face hardened, and a cold realization spread through him as he felt the murderous intent radiating from the Queen of the Elves.
Though Mireya tried to suppress it, she had not yet mastered complete control over her killing aura. The result was devastating — the air in the grand hall instantly turned suffocating, pressing down on everyone present like an invisible mountain.
Servants staggered back; soldiers stiffened where they stood, struggling to breathe. Even Empress Lindy’s fingers twitched slightly on the armrest.
Behind Mireya stood a strikingly handsome young man — Yuan — and close behind him followed a breathtaking procession of women: Vrasha, Sylvia, Kitsura, and others, each radiating grace and quiet power.
The sight left the Imperial Family — and every attendant in the hall — utterly speechless.
’By the heavens... who are these people?’ Raghar’s thoughts stumbled as his gaze swept over the group. ’The women... they look like goddesses descended to earth. And the young man with them — his presence alone feels dangerous.’
Beside him, Empress Lindy silently studied Yuan’s face for several long seconds, her eyes sharp as she slowly scanned the rest of the group — assessing, measuring, and perhaps already fearing what this unexpected visit might bring.
’Who is this young man...?’ Empress Lindy’s sharp eyes lingered on Yuan for a long moment, curiosity flashing behind her calm exterior.
’Why is someone this handsome surrounded by so many breathtaking women? And why did Mireya bring him here? Could there be... some deep connection between them?’
Before Lindy could think further, Mireya’s fury cut through the hall like a blade.
She didn’t wait for pleasantries or greetings. Her emerald eyes burned with barely contained rage as she fixed her glare on Emperor Raghar.
"Emperor Raghar," she began, her voice sharp and cold enough to freeze the air, "I am here to demand an explanation for what your family has done — and continues to do." Her words dripped with contempt.
"I believe you already know what I mean. So, I won’t waste my time spelling it out for you."
Then her lips curled into a deadly smirk. "Your answer will decide the days left for your empire. And don’t even think of denying it — I came prepared, with evidence that cannot be refuted."
The words slammed into the grand hall like thunder. The entire Imperial Family froze. Faces paled. Hearts raced. The oppressive silence that followed was suffocating.
Empress Lindy was the first to break it, though her voice betrayed a faint tremor. "Y-Your Majesty Mireya... there must be some misunderstanding. Please, choose your words carefully."
"Yes... Queen Mireya," Emperor Raghar echoed, his tone attempting calm but edged with unease. "Surely this is some kind of mistake. Let us discuss this—"
But before he could finish, Mireya’s eyes narrowed, sharp as daggers. She had seen through their desperate attempt to protect their daughter.
"Hmph! A misunderstanding?" Mireya’s laugh was cold, void of warmth. "Do you take me for a fool?!"
Sylvia stepped forward then, her own gaze like ice.
"That’s right. You can’t deny this — not when we have proof." Her voice was as sharp as a drawn blade. "Especially about your daughter, who masterminded this whole mess."
She smirked and added with biting disdain, "I suggest you bring your precious daughter here. She’s long overdue for a proper lesson in humility."
The hall fell into tense silence.
Emperor Raghar’s composure cracked. His golden eyes flared with anger, and he slammed his fist against the throne armrest with a resounding crack that made servants flinch in terror.
"Queen Mireya!" he thundered, voice echoing through the hall. "Control your servant! How dare a mere attendant speak to me — the Emperor — in such a manner! This insolence is unacceptable!"
Servants shrank back, trembling. The room quaked under Raghar’s rage.
But Mireya didn’t even blink.
"Emperor Raghar!" she roared back, her aura flaring like a storm, "Do not dare to divert this conversation with petty outrage! If you try to cover your daughter’s crimes and test my patience..." Her fists clenched so tightly the air seemed to hum around her. "...you will regret it."
A dangerous silence followed.
Raghar’s jaw tightened as his fury deepened. His face twisted in barely contained rage as he growled through clenched teeth, "Are you... threatening me? In my own palace?"
"You may think whatever you like," Mireya replied coldly, a sharp smirk curving her lips. "And don’t forget — I still have my own score to settle with you, Raghar."
Her words were blatant provocation, and they hung in the air like a spark over dry wood.
"You bitch!!"
A furious scream shattered the silence. The massive golden doors of the grand hall slammed open with a thunderous boom. The sharp, echoing click of high heels struck the marble floor as a figure strode inside, radiating rage.
A few heartbeats later, Princess Lindsey appeared, sword in hand, her face twisted with deadly fury as her eyes locked on Mireya like a predator spotting prey.
"Oh?" Yuan let out a low chuckle, turning his head slightly to glance at the newcomer. "She’s just as obnoxious as I expected."
"And foolishly arrogant," Lily added with a sly smirk, her voice dripping with contempt. "What an utter disappointment."
Lindsey ignored them entirely. Her attention was locked on Mireya alone as she stopped at the center of the hall, golden hair shimmering under the lights, her arrogant smile sharp and venomous.
"Father," Lindsey said, her grin wide and full of malicious confidence, "allow me to handle this bitch. She’s nothing compared to me."
"In just a few moments..." Lindsey tilted her chin up proudly, her eyes blazing with rage and cruel satisfaction, "...she’ll be begging for my mercy."