Path To Godhood Begins With Marrying Wife And Gaining SSS Rank Skill Chapter 461: Marriage Proposal

In Frostvele, the joyful festivities were rattled by the unexpected assault from the night before. The merrymaking halted briefly, leaving many troops on high alert.

Yet Ethan prevented dread from taking hold within the stronghold. He boldly announced that the revelry must carry on.

"War will always be there," he told them steadily. "But we can celebrate tomorrow."

"Yeahh!"

Thus, the following day, he commanded a fresh round of celebrations.

Enormous bonfires roared back to life throughout the courtyard. Kegs of ale were hauled in, while succulent meats roasted over blazing fires. Scents of charred meat and robust liquor permeated the frosty winter breeze.

Troops clustered all around.

A good number still bore scars from the latest clash, yet their morale remained sky-high.

A trooper hoisted his tankard toward Ethan, hands quivering.

"My Lord… if not for you, Frostvele would have fallen."

The soldier next to him had tears streaming down his face.

"We would all be dead right now."

A few warriors lifted their mugs in unison.

"Long live Lord Ethan!"

"Long live Marquise Ethan!"

Some troops even shed tears amid their drinking.

One roughly brushed away his tears and bellowed.

"We will follow you anywhere, my Lord!"

Ethan lifted his mug and gave them a casual grin with a nod.

"Just don't pass out before finishing your drinks."

The warriors roared with laughter and banged their mugs together.

Nearby, Duke Lancelot watched the vibrant display, arms folded behind him.

His piercing gaze swept over the yard, taking in hundreds of soldiers feasting, chuckling, and belting out songs.

"That's some fine bonding you've got," Lancelot remarked, eyeing the cheerful vibe.

Ethan relaxed at his side.

"Thanks for the praise, Sir."

Lancelot gave a light snort.

"Truly humble. Unlike my girl."

"Father, can you stop now?" Amber huffed, arms crossed.

She lingered close by, visibly irritated.

"Stop?" Lancelot arched a brow.

"I will stop the day you stop giving me worry."

"What do you mean worry?" Amber snapped in irritation.

"I am a grown woman!"

She jabbed a finger at herself furiously.

"Most people who never awakened are already grandparents at this age, yet you are still treating me like a child."

Lancelot snorted once more.

"But the way you go around does not show enough maturity for me to trust you."

Amber's eyes went wide.

"What?!"

Quickly, the pair erupted into heated squabbling.

Amber pressed her points as Lancelot countered with matching tenacity. Their shouts escalated until nearby soldiers discreetly tuned them out.

Ethan observed briefly before intervening.

"Cough."

They both turned to him.

"Lady Amber is just kind-hearted," Ethan stated evenly.

"I think she is already mature enough."

Amber's face lit up right away.

"See? Cou— I mean, Marquise Ethan believes in me"

Lancelot snorted derisively.

"He believes shit."

Suddenly, he dropped a bombshell.

"Then why don't you just marry her and take her home?"

As soon as the words escaped him, an uneasy hush blanketed the spot.

Amber went rigid. Her mouth hung open, cheeks flushing crimson.

"Father… stop your bullshit…" she whispered, mortified.

Lancelot brushed it off with a wave.

"Okay, okay."

Then he faced her anew. "Now go away. I have some serious talk with Marquise Ethan."

Amber scowled.

"What serious talk?"

But Duke Lancelot shooed her off again.

"It's talk between adults."

Amber seemed peeved, yet moments later she stomped off with a loud huff, grumbling to herself.

Once she departed, Ethan took a leisurely sip from his cup.

"That wasn't just random words, right?" he inquired.

Lancelot smirked faintly as he sipped new wine.

"Hmmm."

"It's good that you understand."

He set down the cup and fixed his gaze on Ethan.

"I really want you to marry her."

Ethan held off on replying at once.

Rather, he scanned the courtyard momentarily as troops kept reveling and imbibing close by.

Afterward, he murmured softly.

"Why me?"

He met Lancelot's eyes again.

"Why not someone else in the Empire?"

"Why you, huh?" Lancelot echoed with a faint grin.

"That's a very good question."

He raised his empty glass a bit.

Ethan spotted it and grabbed the nearby pitcher.

He filled the duke's glass with fresh wine as Lancelot went on.

"I used to be the right hand man of the Emperor," Lancelot stated coolly.

"Until I became sick and stepped down."

He sipped slowly. "Because of that, everyone in the Empire knows I can do many things."

Ethan paid close attention.

"In that kind of scenario," Lancelot went on, "if I wed Amber to a mighty clan backing one of the princes, I'd get pulled straight into the political strife."

Ethan's brow furrowed a bit.

"Then pick someone neutral," he suggested.

Lancelot gazed at him briefly.

A wry smile crept across his features.

"That's the heart of the issue, Ethan."

He gently set down his glass.

"That's the core dilemma."

His eyes drifted to the bustling soldiers in the yard as he murmured softly.

"I'm not sure if truly neutral folks exist anywhere in the Empire."

Silence hung between them for several moments after Duke Lancelot spoke.

Far-off sounds of soldiers' laughter and revelry echoed through the courtyard underneath. Near a roaring bonfire, a man belted out a gritty war tune, joined by others clapping fiercely and thudding boots on the icy earth.

The festivities raged on relentlessly.

Ethan rested casually against the stone balustrade and peered at the troops down below.

"I get it," he murmured.

Lancelot's point dawned on him fully.

Within any empire, true neutrality was usually just a facade. All noble houses inevitably tilted toward some side or another. Nobody remained aloof from the power struggle indefinitely.

Ethan savored another deliberate sip of his beverage prior to resuming.

"Even so, surely someone fits the bill, doesn't he?" he queried, shooting a look at Lancelot.

Duke Lancelot swirled the wine in his cup deliberately.

"Who can say?" he answered steadily.

"Nobles conceal their true aims until the last second. The nobles' game proves ruthless and unforgiving. Victory is the only guarantee; otherwise, chaos reigns."

He halted briefly before pressing on.

"Precisely for that reason, I chose to withdraw here rather than linger in the capital's chaos."

Ethan gave a subtle nod.

"So you see me as neutral?" he inquired, a subtle grin playing on his lips.

"What if I harbor ambitions of my own?"