System: Build My Own Territory Chapter 858 - 269: The Emperor of the Empire Dies Suddenly (10,000 Words) (3)

Due to profuse sweating, a burning thirst surged in his mouth.

Charlemagne VI's eyes darted around, casting a pained glance over the edges of the massive bed.

Yet, no servant stood waiting beside him.

Charlemagne VI gulped down saliva with effort, inching his arms slowly to push himself upright from the grand bed.

But after repeated efforts, Charlemagne VI remained unable to sit up.

These persistent motions only worsened the dryness and bitterness in his already parched mouth.

Even his cracked lips grew drier.

Charlemagne VI's gaze turned once more to the bedside table.

A finely made glazed bottle sat upon the bedside table!

Hope flickered in his eyes.

If only he could knock over that glazed bottle, sending it crashing to the floor,

the breaking sound would definitely draw the guards outside!

Struggling hard, Charlemagne VI shifted his body.

His stare locked onto the glazed bottle, while his form inched forward centimeter by centimeter across the vast bed.

Only now did it hit him.

Regret flooded Charlemagne VI's heart.

Why had his sleeping bed become almost three meters wide now!

Traveling from the bed's center to the bedside table, over a meter away.

To him right then, it felt like an impossible gulf.

Time ticked away slowly.

The sweat that had gathered now formed into droplets.

One by one, they trickled down from Charlemagne VI's forehead.

Thankfully, though,

his raised right hand hovered just a dozen centimeters from the glazed bottle.

A bit more effort, and he could reach it.

Then, with his final burst of strength, topple the glazed bottle!

Charlemagne VI kept inching his prone body along the bed...

Until, ten minutes passed.

Finally, Charlemagne VI's fingers on his right hand brushed the glazed bottle.

A chill, silky feel spread across his fingertips.

Resolve gleamed in Charlemagne VI's eyes.

He drew in a deep breath, his entire frame shuddering suddenly.

Pouring out nearly all his remaining power, Charlemagne VI nudged the glazed bottle with three fingers.

Yet.

The glazed bottle failed to tumble to the ground as Charlemagne VI had hoped.

Instead, propelled by the push, it began rocking side to side.

Gurgle~ Gurgle~

The noise echoed across the jade bedside table.

Charlemagne VI observed intently, breath held tight.

After dragging from the bed's middle to its side.

And nearly depleting all his energy to barely shove the glazed bottle.

Should it not fall, thirst would torment him through the night.

He yearned for a normal life—sleep when weary, eat when famished, drink when parched...

Despite still holding the empire's throne.

Free movement eluded him now.

For he had hit sixty-five years!

Battle scars from old wars had paralyzed him years back.

What's more, his two sons battled fiercely for power.

The lords who once bowed to him now sided with his sons' factions.

Even his personal attendants had disappeared.

Right now, Charlemagne VI pushed those worries aside.

Deep down, he sensed,

without water today, thirst would claim him tonight!

Charlemagne VI fixed his stare on the glazed bottle atop the bedside table.

As though urging it to fall through sheer willpower.

After several rocks, the glazed bottle neared its tipping point.

Gurgle~ Gurgle~

The noise cut off abruptly.

The exquisite glazed bottle finally tipped over.

With a hum, it rolled toward the jade bedside table's edge.

Charlemagne VI's eyes bulged, glued to the glazed bottle.

He knew full well.

Once it dropped, a sharp crash would ring out.

That noise would alert the guards beyond the chamber door.

With guards inside, his pressing need would end.

But.

Just as the glazed bottle slipped off the jade bedside table, on the verge of falling.

A shadowy arm reached out from under Charlemagne VI's grand bed.

It seized the glazed bottle firmly.

Missing the expected shatter, Charlemagne VI's eyes flew wide.

He strained to shift his body once more, craning his neck laboriously to glimpse the glazed bottle.

What met his view,

was a dark figure emerging slowly from beneath his bed.

Charlemagne VI's pupils shrank in instant horror.

As that lithe, graceful form rose to stand.

Charlemagne VI forgot all about his parched mouth.

Draining nearly all his reserves, he desperately attempted to crawl off the bed's edge toward the opposite side.

Yet, that previous struggle had already sapped every ounce of his strength.

At present, after inching just a few centimeters, he found himself utterly unable to budge.

Huff huff~

Charlemagne VI's mouth gaped wide, drawing in and expelling air without pause.

Powerless, he stared as the ghostly female silhouette loomed larger within his vision.