The Hidden Extra: The Lazy Prince Refuses to Ascend The Throne Chapter 667 Intensive Interrogation (2)

"By the way, Father, there's something I wanted to—"

Rafine hadn't even finished speaking when a glowing orb suddenly materialized right in front of them.

The orb floated leisurely towards Alvaron, pausing right before his face.

Shortly after, it swirled into a vortex. Within it, Alvaron spotted Ragan in his study, face grave and serious.

"Your Majesty?" Alvaron's features stiffened.

He swiftly composed himself, rose to his feet, and offered a deep bow.

Rafine, just as shocked, followed suit with her own bow.

"Good evening, Your Majesty," Alvaron greeted. "What prompts this sudden communication?"

Several suspicions already swirled in his mind, yet he yearned to hear the truth straight from Ragan's lips.

Ragan steepled his fingers, propping his chin atop them.

"I'm certain you grasp the reason for my call," Ragan replied coolly. "No need for roundabout talk. What's the meaning of dispatching thousands of soldiers to the southern continent? Are you aiming to ignite conflict with the Ancient Kingdom of Eron?"

Alvaron's pulse quickened. Despite the separation, Ragan's aura bore down heavily upon him.

Nevertheless, he collected his nerves, aligned his stance, and pressed his right hand to his heart.

"I apologize, Your Majesty. My moves broke the established protocols, but I had no aim to spark war against the Ancient Kingdom of Eron," he stated with caution. "The purpose behind sending those thousands of troops was straightforward—a rescue operation."

Ragan's gaze sharpened. "A rescue operation? Elaborate."

Alvaron drew in a steadying breath. "Prince Nolan and Princess Seira face grave peril."

As soon as he uttered those words, silence descended sharply, thick with tension. Rafine, though not involved in the exchange, found her mouth parched.

Moments passed before Ragan's voice pierced the quiet.

"Nolan and Seira in peril? You'd better not be fabricating this," he warned.

His tone stayed even outwardly, but a subtle ripple of unrest laced through it.

Nolan and Seira had journeyed to the Ancient Kingdom of Eron to resolve the engagement issue.

Ragan hadn't endorsed or dismissed the betrothal, granting Seira full authority over it.

Alvaron now asserted both royals were threatened. To Ragan, this seemed illogical—unless Nolan had stirred up chaos there.

His heart pounded faster, icy sweat trickling down his spine.

Alvaron advanced before he could respond.

"Your Majesty, Prince Aldrian, crown prince of the Ancient Kingdom of Eron, is dead."

Ragan's breathing hitched, eyes bulging in shock.

"Aldrian Lyren… dead? Who's responsible?"

Though he harbored suspicions, he demanded confirmation from Alvaron.

Alvaron sighed deeply. "His Highness Nolan did it."

Next, he recounted the details from the letter Nolan had sent him days prior.

Ragan absorbed it all quietly. Tremors shook his frame, fists balled hard.

Upon Alvaron's conclusion, a severe look crossed his face. "His Highness Nolan once aided the Austin family out of a dire crisis, so I won't abandon him in this peril, Your Majesty. Kindly refrain from limiting my choices here."

Such declaration rang audacious from a simple Duke.

Yet Alvaron stood resolute. Deep down, he trusted Ragan would ultimately endorse his course.

His plan, after all, aimed to extract Nolan and Seira—Ragan's flesh and blood.

Indeed, Ragan's fury slowly ebbed, giving way to an inscrutable, intricate visage.

"I see. Is Elina commanding the troops?" Ragan inquired, tone laden.

"Yes, Your Majesty. Princess Elina commands them personally. Come tonight, they'll arrive at the Ancient Kingdom of Eron's seaside domain, poised to extract Prince Nolan and Princess Seira."

Ragan inhaled deeply, nodding faintly.

"I understand. My gratitude for your aid. The imperial palace won't forget this."

With that, the vortex dissolved, restoring quiet to the workspace.

Rafine let out a relieved breath. Thankfully, Ragan hadn't unleashed the wrath she dreaded.

"Father…"

Alvaron reclaimed his seat and lifted his left hand before she continued.

"I sense your concerns, but worry not. Trust me, this risk I've embraced is wholly sound," he affirmed strongly.

Rafine choked back her unspoken thoughts, offering a feeble nod.

"I… understand."

…

Ragan remained seated, countenance dark, an subtle oppressive force emanating from his being.

Orion sensed the icy vibe too, bowing his head mutely.

Following five agonizing minutes, Ragan reined in his presence and spoke icily, "This stays confidential. Reveal it to no one—not Isabella, Cassandra, Vanessa, or Clarisse. Clear?"

Orion gave a slight bow. "Understood, Your Majesty."

Ragan nodded before waving his hand dismissively. Orion's form disappeared in a flash.

Left by himself in the chamber, Ragan massaged his throbbing temples while grumbling, "That bastard has gone too far. I'll have to punish him severely when he returns."

Because of that cursed kid, the scheme he'd carefully crafted lay in ruins. The Great Velmora Empire now had to confront both the Holy Valtanir Empire and the Ancient Kingdom of Eron simultaneously.

This wasn't merely a minor reversal—it marked the start of an enormous catastrophe.

…

An unnatural silence hung over the shoreline. Seabirds' calls rang out sharply in the breeze.

All at once, three enormous warships stopped just offshore.

A broad wooden ramp, five meters across, dropped down, and soon thousands of troops surged onto the beach.

At their forefront strode a stunning young woman, elegant and poised, dressed in shining silver armor that sparkled under the sun.

Her white hair pulled into a tidy ponytail accentuated her authoritative, valiant aura.

After the eight thousand soldiers arranged themselves in perfect formation, a towering, brawny man advanced and cupped his hands in respect.

"What are your orders, Your Highness Elina?" he inquired.

Elina held off on replying right away. She gazed across the horizon and murmured, "Can you help me?"

Malverna's indolent voice resounded within her thoughts.

"Looking for your brother? He's fine. No need to worry about him."

Elina's eyebrows knitted together, showing her clear annoyance.

Concealed in the shadows trailing Elina, Malverna released a faint sigh. With a tone of reluctant acceptance, she instructed, "Head southeast. It's a long journey—it could take more than a day before you reach your older sister."

Slowly, the shadow clouding Elina's expression faded, giving way to ease and appreciation.

She faced the sturdy man.

"All eight thousand troops will follow me southeast. The rest stay here to guard the three warships. Prepare the horses and ensure we have enough supplies," she ordered resolutely, eyes locked on the distance. "We're moving to save my brother."