Time seemed to slow severalfold. Everyone unconsciously straightened up and waited in silence.
Then, beneath gazes filled with anticipation, indifference, doubt, or tension, the being within the armor slowly spoke.
"The next successor designated by His Majesty is...
"Kuxia Merdan Elador!"
That fat bastard shot to his feet.
His face held confusion and disbelief, but in the end, it all turned into wild joy.
"I won!!!!"
In contrast, Duke Wenton's expression had turned as dark as water.
He looked at his panicked subordinates around him, then at Charles, the only one who remained utterly still, before slowly rising to his feet.
"I do not recognize this."
The fat bastard's excited voice came to an abrupt stop.
He looked at his old rival, who had been entangled with him for decades, and raised a smile both pitying and cruel.
"Wenton, are you still planning to resist stubbornly even now? Could it be that you're questioning His Majesty's decision... Don't worry. Unlike you, I won't wipe you out completely. But from now on, I'm afraid you'll have to say goodbye to the title of duke...
Before he could finish, Duke Wenton spoke.
"Yes, I am questioning His Majesty."
...Silence.
As though he had heard something utterly unbelievable, the fat bastard stared at him in shock—yet before he could speak, the old man from the Zhang Family slammed his hand on the table and rose.
"Wenton, what are you saying?!"
Yet Duke Wenton still wore that same indifferent, even ruthless expression.
"I misspoke in no way. I am indeed questioning His Majesty's decision—but I am not questioning His Majesty himself. I suspect that someone deceived him and rigged this election!"
"Wenton, even if you've lost, don't go mad here! What will His Majesty think if he sees this?!"
Unexpectedly, Duke Wenton merely snorted