The Hidden Extra: The Lazy Prince Refuses to Ascend The Throne Chapter 692 Chaos and Public Protests
Previously on The Hidden Extra: The Lazy Prince Refuses to Ascend The Throne...
Three days slipped by like sand through fingers. Under the watchful eyes of the guards, Nolan remained in his cell without causing any disturbances.
On the contrary, he appeared to be thoroughly enjoying his confinement. His days were spent sleeping for twelve hours, indulging in meals, and delving into books.
The guards, initially surprised, soon grew accustomed to his unperturbed routine.
"Nolan, aren't you bored? With your abilities, surely you could easily depart from here, couldn't you?"
Malverna's voice emerged from the surrounding shadows.
Nolan directed a glance her way and offered a subtle smile.
"No need for thanks. I find myself more comfortable precisely like this."
Amidst all the impending issues, he had almost forgotten that his primary objective in this world was simply to find tranquility.
And he knew achieving that was an impossibility, especially after Elina's entanglement in the struggle for the throne.
Thus, he utilized these three days for rest—free from worries, free from schemes, and free from any burdens weighing him down.
Malverna fell into silence. She recalled Nolan's inherent laziness. The recent string of events had almost made her forget this fundamental characteristic.
"In that case, do you intend to remain within this prison indefinitely? Until when, precisely?"
Nolan gave a shake of his head. "I'm not certain. One thing is absolute—it won't be for much longer. I am confident Elina, Rafine, and Seira will facilitate my release soon. Rest assured."
As he uttered these words, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed from outside. Rafine, Seira, and Elina entered the chamber housing his cell.
"Brother!" Elina exclaimed swiftly, her gaze fixed upon Nolan, who bore a disheveled and weary appearance.
Raffine and Seira also wore somber expressions, particularly upon observing Nolan's now thick mustache and beard.
Merely three days had elapsed since Nolan’s imprisonment, yet his appearance suggested he had been confined for over a week, looking quite pitiable.
Nolan closed the book in his hand, then rose and walked towards them.
Contrary to their expectations, he offered no complaints nor displayed any signs of frustration. Instead, a sense of calm pervaded him, tinged with a faint hint of concealed relief.
"Welcome, all three of you," Nolan greeted casually. "So, any updates regarding this predicament?"
Seira nodded and explained with gentle sincerity, "I have received word from Father. Tonight, you shall be escorted back to the imperial palace. However…"
Her expression grew complex as she lowered her head in a gesture of remorse.
"You will face a trial presided over by Father himself. As for the ensuing punishment, its nature remains unknown. Yet, it is likely to be quite severe. Nevertheless, do not despair!"
Seira straightened her posture, her gaze becoming sharp and resolute. "I shall implore Father to mitigate your sentence. Should it be feasible… I aim to have you cleared of all charges."
She understood that everything had unfolded as part of Nolan's strategy, including Aldrian’s demise. Yet, he had undertaken these actions for her sake.
She was unwilling to witness Nolan simply relegated to imprisonment.
"Sister Seira speaks the truth," Elina concurred, nodding slightly. "I too will petition Father to lessen your sentence. Place your trust in us, alright?"
"I shall also seek my father, Duke Austin's, intervention. While I cannot guarantee its efficacy, it might compel Emperor Ragan to reconsider his stance," Rafine added with reassurance.
Nolan was genuinely moved by their unequivocal kindness. In reality, the precariousness of his situation did not occupy his thoughts significantly.
He harbored a certainty that the elder had merely imprisoned him as a measure to impart a lesson or, at the very least, to appease public sentiment.
News of Aldrian’s death had undoubtedly disseminated throughout the entire southern continent and might have even penetrated the central lands.
By detaining him, the imperial palace could project an image of decisive action to the populace.
"I am grateful for all of your efforts," Nolan stated softly. "I shall not forget your kindness."
The three felt a sense of relief wash over them, and they exchanged knowing glances.
After a brief period of further conversation, they ultimately made their departure, leaving Nolan once again in the solitude of his prison cell.
Nolan returned to his cot and settled down comfortably. Just as he was about to close his eyes, a sudden recollection prompted a faint smile.
"Malverna," he called out, slowly sitting up once more. "Would you care to witness something rather intriguing?"
Malverna materialized beside him, inquiring tentatively, "Witness something intriguing? What exactly do you imply?"
Nolan maintained his smile. "You shall discover in due time."
...
Night had descended, casting a heavy pall over the dark sky, obscured by foreboding black clouds.
The capital city of Altheris stood as the most expansive, flourishing, and affluent metropolis on the mainland of the Ancient Kingdom of Eron.
It functioned as a paramount commercial nexus and the ultimate destination for merchants hailing from every dominion within the kingdom.
Most crucially, it was recognized as the most secure bastion within the kingdom. Only a foolhardy individual would contemplate instigating trouble within its precincts.
However, that deeply ingrained conviction was shattered precisely eight days prior. The capital, once lauded for its unparalleled safety, was left in ruins subsequent to an assault by a cadre of enigmatic assailants.
Flames engulfed the city, reducing inns, residences, and commercial establishments to ashes in a terrifying inferno. The devastation left an indelible mark upon the hearts of the capital's populace. Countless individuals suffered the loss of their possessions, their domiciles, and their cherished kin. Ten thousand lives were extinguished, a death toll rivaled only by that of all-out warfare. Despite the royal palace's attempts at appeasement through compensation and subtle suppression, the populace remained unconsoled. Beneath their sorrow festered a potent concoction of rage and animosity. "Justice for Gulvar Lyren! We demand accountability!" "The Royal Palace must bear responsibility for our suffering!" "Down with him!" "Resign now!" The impassioned cries reverberated from every quarter of the royal capital. Millions converged in a massive, intimidating demonstration, a sea of citizens encompassing women, children, and the elderly who had taken to the streets. What should have been a tranquil evening devolved into a maelstrom of chaos that profoundly unsettled all. Attempts by the soldiers to contain the surging masses proved futile. The sheer number of people, exceeding a million, dwarfed the tens of thousands of soldiers present. Furthermore, the soldiers hesitated to employ harsh measures, aware that such actions would only ignite greater fury and backlash. Bang! Bang! The crowd's aggression escalated. They pounded and battered the palace walls, as if intending to breach them entirely. Despite the soldiers' efforts to maintain their ground, their resistance was ineffectual. With each passing moment, the people's anger intensified. "What course of action should we take?" a young soldier inquired, his body pressed against the forbidding palace gates. His companions, standing beside him, offered only grim shakes of their heads, equally bewildered. They were mere foot soldiers, devoid of authority. Their sole recourse was to obey commands and defend the gate. Bang! Bang! The external pressure mounted relentlessly. The soldiers' faces drained of color, etched with panic and apprehension. Their only hope resided in their superiors taking decisive action swiftly. Otherwise, not only would the royal palace succumb, but they themselves would become direct targets of the immense rage emanating from the millions assembled beyond the gates.