So... what's the motivation?
Lia began to ponder.
She thought of a possibility.
But Lia refused to believe it.
Soon, the eldest prince, who was leaning weakly against the wall, slowly propped himself up.
A hand rested on her chest, her voice trembling and broken:
"Uncle, why...why did you do this?"
"Because you have no value anymore."
Whoosh!
Lipoulter's words were cold and direct, like a depth charge exploding in a boiling pool.
He put his hands behind his back, calmly observed the crowd's reactions, and continued:
"To put it bluntly, Your Highness, and everyone here."
Do you still think you have a chance?
The nobles remained deeply silent, as if they felt steel needles piercing their hearts and chests, and a chill instantly spread throughout their bodies.
They all understood what Riboot meant—the struggle for the throne.
Everyone knows that the hopes of both the eldest and second princes are now slim.
After all, the Emperor's single-name designation, coupled with the support of the Clavenna family, which favored the princess's lineage, led to the establishment of diplomatic relations between the elves and the Empire.
With such strong backing, the future emperor has essentially been decided.
But the nobles present still harbored a sliver of unfulfilled hope.
What if? What if?
But the result was that Riboot ruthlessly tore away all their fig leaves, laying the cruel reality naked before their eyes.
Lipoultry's words echoed in the banquet hall, like tearing open a festering sore.
Blood gushed forth, piercing the parched throats of everyone present.
The eldest prince's body weakened again, and he trembled violently.
"so……"
"So he devised a plan to pry open the monster rift, allowing a large number of monsters to attack Godinlima."
Victor calmly explained to the eldest prince:
"If you care about the South, he will help you push back the monster tide."
"But when dealing with this kind of merchant, you should think carefully about the final price."
Clap clap clap!
Lipoultry clapped his hands, giving Victor's explanation a satisfactory approval.
The eldest prince was completely stunned and shocked, standing rooted to the spot like a piece of wood.
Lipoort continued:
"If you don't care about the situation in the South, that's fine too."
"Tiebo possesses the most advanced technology, which guarantees that we can absolutely stop those monsters."
He turned to look at the eldest prince, a smile on his face:
"Don't forget, Your Highness. Wasn't it our weapons that dealt with the demonic dragon you brought back?"
ah!
Their eyes widened, their shocked gazes shifting between the First Prince and Riboot.
So, the First Prince's so-called achievements...
Is it a forgery?
One by one, the nobles who supported the eldest prince lowered their heads, their originally sorrowful eyes filled with disappointment and desolation.
As I said before, they refused to believe it.
But seeing the eldest prince's bowed head and clenched fists, they seemed forced to confront this cruel truth.
But then their thoughts began to race again, and doubts arose.
Why did Ribot specifically mention that Tiep's technology could stop the beast tide?
Wasn't it he who unleashed the Warcraft wave?
Does he want to play the role of a savior?
No, that's not right...
Some of the nobles present also had experience in business.
They suddenly looked up, their eyes wide, staring intently at Ripoultry.
They already had an answer in their minds.
It was an incredibly dark situation, filled with any possibility.
Lipoulter smiled faintly, squinted his eyes, and raised the corners of his mouth, almost to his ears.
"Yes, I will not support Godinlima; we will simply wait in Tieppo."
"Wait for those stranded and fleeing residents, wait for them to be chased by monsters, and escape to the only place they can get to."
Godinlima and Tieppo are very close to each other, and on the southern border, apart from Tieppo, the surrounding land is barren.
The only way for people to escape was to flee to Thyebo.
“At that time, we will appear and use our powerful weapons of Tiebow to save these distressed residents.”
The nobles who heard Lipoulter's words felt a chill run down their spines.
Their hands and feet went cold as they listened; they trembled all over.
However, Lipoult simply spread his arms and looked up.
The quicksand in those golden pupils spun rapidly, as if a frenzied light burst forth from their eyes;
“They will be grateful to me, they will worship me.”
"but……"
Suddenly, Ripoot stopped his frenzied behavior and returned to calm.
He reopened his eyes and tilted his head.
He stared blankly at the nobles present, who were in despair, as if he were a machine.
It was as if he were looking at a swarm of insects, so insignificant as to be beneath his notice.
Deep whispers, like the murmurs of demons, echoed from all directions, their eerie sounds reverberating throughout the golden forest banquet hall.
Like a dark cloud transforming into a writhing worm, it burrowed into everyone's ears:
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