Artificial Sea, Danfeng Bailu Palace—
This was a towering great hall that pierced the clouds, connecting heaven above to the sea below. The glittering golden palace was like the temple inhabited by Heavenly Gods in myths, with long suspended corridors made of a special transparent ice crystal, solid and unmelting even after thousands of years, and incredibly beautiful.
Walking upon them would involuntarily inspire both fear and reverence in any person.
Further up there were ninety-nine steps, each embedded with precious gems, so lavish that the term "magnificent" would be an understatement.
This place was the core of the entire Artificial Sea. To build this Imperial Palace, an endless, churning Artificial Sea was purposely excavated, all merely a complement to the grandeur of the palace.
Emperor Joseph V currently resided here.
In the ten years since his coronation, he had never once stepped out.
This was the pinnacle of human authority, bestowing supreme honor upon its owner, yet also becoming a shackle.
Second Prince Hughes, dressed in formal regalia, took the steps one by one up to the massive palace doors, where the Imperial Guards standing on both sides parted to make way.
The great doors opened.
The dazzling sunlight streamed into the originally dim hall, illuminating the man sitting on the throne.
The interior of the hall instantly lit up, becoming radiant with gold and splendor.
A flicker of surprise crossed Hughes’s eyes, hesitant to recognize the man on the throne.
Was this still his father?
Why had he aged so quickly?
"Your Highness pays respect to Father Emperor," Hughes approached the throne and knelt on one knee.
A hint of scorn flitted across Joseph’s aged and cloudy face, and with a wave of his scepter-holding hand, he said, "Rise, there’s no need to kneel on one knee."
Hughes felt a twitch in his brow, understanding that the refusal of the Seven Guardian Dukes to present themselves at the Emperor’s coronation had become a festering wound in his father’s heart—every time someone knelt, it reminded the Emperor of that disdain.
"Has the Elder Council signed the directive?"
"Yes, the Elder Council requests your attendance."
Hughes understood that it was a challenge to His Majesty, yet there was nothing he could do. In the entire Galaxy Empire, only the Elder Council could demand the Emperor’s presence, a measure established at the founding of the Empire to limit imperial power.
But in two thousand years, the Elder Council rarely meddled with the Royal Family; their involvement now suggested a dereliction of duty by the Emperor.
This was a veritable slap in the face for Joseph V.
And another serious blow to imperial authority.
Joseph rose from his throne, his tall yet thin figure loomed from above, as he pointed towards the horizon, "Hughes, what do you see from here?"
"The heart of the Empire." Hughes looked spellbound, his gaze sweeping across the entire Noble District, with the Military Department, the Cabinet, and the Elder Council faintly visible—something fiery within him began to boil and clamor for release, yearning to seize everything.
The words of Joseph V cooled Hughes down from his fervor, like a bucket of cold water had been poured over him.
"The first time I stood here, I felt just like you do now."
"Come up here," Joseph V interrupted Hughes, gesturing to him: "Come here, stand where I stand."
Hughes dared not, as not just anybody was permitted to stand in front of the throne, not even his own son. But Joseph V was obstinate, not giving him any room to refuse. Left with no choice, Hughes walked over with trepidation.
"How does it feel now?"
Suddenly, Joseph V raised his hand and pushed Hughes down forcefully onto the throne; the cold, hard seat sent a shiver down Hughes’s spine.