As soon as those words were spoken, the atmosphere in the throne room fell into an immediate silence.
Tension filled the air, especially for Aldric, Cedric, and Adalen, whose expressions turned serious at once.
Meanwhile, Nolan narrowed his eyes slightly and shot a sharp look at his father upon hearing the announcement.
Succession to the throne, huh? So Elina was right... The real reason this old man gathered all the princes and princesses was for that, he muttered under his breath, clenching his fists tightly.
Ragan nodded in satisfaction at their reactions.
Resting the right side of his face on his palm, he continued, "As you know, I am no longer young. I've ruled as emperor for over sixty years, and I'm beginning to feel the weight of this position."
"Therefore, the time has come for the Great Empire of Velmora to welcome a new emperor. And today, I officially announce the beginning of the selection process to choose my successor."
"Of course, the process will follow the traditions our Lorian family has upheld for a thousand years. I'm sure you're all familiar with the procedure, yes?"
As he finished speaking, his gaze swept across each of the princes and princesses.
Each of them wore an expression of tension, seriousness, or anxiety. But what amused him most was Nolan's distressed face—something he rarely showed.
Hahaha! Finally, even that brat looks rattled. How entertaining, he whispered with a hearty laugh.
If Nolan had known what his father was thinking, he would have been furious and shouted, "Damn you, old man! Don't you realize that succession is the one thing I want to avoid the most?"
But that was the reality. It was the burden now weighing heavily on his mind.
He felt a mix of confusion and fear. The succession system in the Great Empire of Velmora was unlike anything he had encountered in his previous world or in the fantasy stories he'd heard.
While in most kingdoms, the throne was passed down to the first prince or eldest son, in the Great Empire of Velmora, the throne was claimed through combat.
Yes, combat—between the princes themselves. Those competing for the throne would form their own factions, usually consisting of noble families that supported them.
In short, gaining the backing of various groups—from nobles and ministers to other factions—was vital for any prince hoping to claim the throne.
Throughout the history of the Lorian family, many princes had fallen—some even killed.
But that came as no surprise. Human nature, especially among men, is driven by three things: women, wealth, and power.
And of these three, the most dangerous is power.
How could it not be? A throne can turn siblings who once loved each other into enemies, willing to kill one another for control.
Not infrequently, the struggle for the throne led to civil war, tearing the empire apart.
That was why the prince who ascended to the throne would usually eliminate any threats to his power.
Cruel, yes, but it was the harsh reality they all had to face.
Damn... I really hate this, he muttered, rubbing his temples.
He knew that, sooner or later, the issue of succession would arise. And once it did, there would be no room for relaxation.
His gaze scanned the princes and princesses around him, noting how their expressions had changed.
Where there had once been warmth and familiarity, now there was only a chilling sense of detachment and wariness.
Aldric, Cedric, and Adalen, in particular, exchanged hostile glances.
"Alright." Ragan took a deep breath and regarded them all with indifference. "This meeting is adjourned. You may go now. I'll provide further instructions later."
The princes and princesses bowed respectfully, cupping their hands in unison.
"As you command, Father," they replied.
With that, Aldric, Cedric, Adalen, and the others turned to leave, each lost in their own thoughts.
"Let's go back, Brother," Elina said, taking Nolan's hand.
But Nolan remained rooted to the spot. His expression was calm, yet his gaze was fixed on Ragan seated on the throne.
"Oh?" Ragan was slightly taken aback and regarded him with a playful expression. "What's this, kid? Do you have something to say?"
Nolan took a slow breath and replied, "Father, I wish to appeal."
"Appeal?" Ragan raised an eyebrow slightly.
Elina was surprised and about to intervene, but Nolan spoke first, "Father, I refuse to join the fight for the throne."
His words immediately silenced the room.
A few seconds later, a powerful aura erupted from Ragan's body, flooding the throne room with overwhelming pressure.
Elina and Roswell immediately felt the weight of it, their legs trembling with the intensity.
Yet, Nolan stood perfectly still, as though the pressure didn't affect him at all.
The scene left both Ragan and Roswell stunned.
"This kid..." Ragan opened his mouth but ultimately chose to remain silent, closing it again.
Moments later, Ragan retracted his aura, and Elina and Roswell were able to breathe freely once more.
"Your protest is unacceptable," Ragan said coldly. "All princes are required to participate in the succession to the throne. Refuse, and you will face severe consequences."
The succession was a sacred rite for the Lorian family and the Great Empire of Velmora.
Unlike the princesses, all princes were compelled to participate. The rules were clear and non-negotiable.
Nolan gritted his teeth in frustration. He had no solid argument to counter that.
He didn't want to be tangled in any power struggles.
His purpose in being reincarnated into this world was to find peace, not to engage in troublesome matters like the succession.
"Brother..." Elina's voice was soft as it came from behind.
Nolan turned and saw the concern etched on his sister's face.
"Huh..." He let out a quiet sigh, then spoke softly, "I'm sorry, Elina."
Elina looked distressed but said nothing in response.
Without another word, Nolan cupped his hands in respect to Ragan, then turned and walked out, Elina following silently behind him.
Ragan watched his son's retreating figure, slowly fading from sight, before regaining his composure and turning to Roswell.
"What do you think, Roswell?" he asked, his tone flat.
Roswell tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robe and stared after Nolan's departure.
"I'm not sure if my hunch is correct, Your Majesty, but it seems Prince Nolan isn't quite as the rumors suggest," he replied respectfully.
Rumors about Nolan were rampant throughout the palace, and they had spread across the empire—he was often labeled lazy, useless, and a prince without value.
Yet, the demeanor he had shown earlier, along with his ability to withstand Ragan's pressure, clearly contradicted those claims.
A faint smile tugged at Ragan's lips as he shook his head slowly.
"Your judgment isn't wrong, Roswell. That brat... he's definitely something special."