The Boss King actually disguised himself as a novice village chief?!
Chapter 246 - 213: Murmuring Old Woman

Chapter 246: Chapter 213: Murmuring Old Woman

The Murmuring Crone was a hunched woman, clad in a tattered burlap robe, walking with great difficulty and leaning on a cane that resembled an enlarged human leg bone.

It rattled with various decorations: pouches of spices, skulls, bells, leather wraps, and so on.

Carrying such a heavy cane around was incongruent with her frail old woman persona; even a normal adult male would find it challenging to bear.

Though there was no peculiar smell about her, the moment Rania caught sight of the Murmuring Crone, she couldn’t help but slightly wrinkle her nose. She knew her action wasn’t exactly polite, but this was her first time encountering such an "inappropriately dressed" visitor.

Long before this, anyone who wished to meet the Queen or the Princess had to undergo extensive noble etiquette training.

Don’t worry too much about those things, you no longer have a choice, Rania told herself internally.

Otherwise, she would not have sought the crone’s help after knowing she was an evil witch.

"Majestic Queen," the Murmuring Crone spoke with a thick southern accent, and possibly due to her old age, she had few teeth, which made her swallow some of her sounds while speaking.

Rania’s gaze inadvertently focused on her large, drooping hooked nose, particularly noticeable because of the mole on the bridge of her nose.

"How should I address you, Murmuring Crone?" Rania asked.

"I lost my own name when I gained this power. Murmuring Crone, giggle giggle," the crone nodded and let out a girlish titter that was disconcerting.

Rania took a deep breath, "I hear your abilities are unique, capable of listening."

"Listening to murmurs, great Her Majesty the Queen!" the crone replied, "I can hear every whispered secret, and sometimes, the future, though those voices are always unclear."

Rania stroked her silvery white hair.

Her hair was elegantly styled up, a hairstyle in Goliath’s Golden Royal Palace that symbolized refinement; arranging her hair took a group of maids more than an hour each day.

Using hair to express nobility—nothing could be worse than that.

She reflected on whether inviting the Murmuring Crone was correct. Rania was better at engaging with rational people. Her fingers traced her refined and noble cheeks. Her innate noble heritage made her stunningly beautiful, and the dignity and haughtiness born from being a Queen were unique across the entire kingdom.

The slight lift in her chin embodied the imposing air of a superior.

The Murmuring Crone stopped laughing and lowered her head.

As a witch, the Murmuring Crone might indeed possess some skills, but her feigned madness seemed comical under the weight of pressure when she faced the Queen of the Kingdom.

Air is what superiors skillfully wield.

Even though Rania was the one in need, she refused to bow and scrape. Royals had their own way of requesting help, just like now.

"Murmuring Crone, if your ears are truly keen, you must have heard many tales. The Kingdom has encountered some minor troubles, much like a sick warhorse. We need a doctor."

Rania also had a headache. The struggle for power was even greater than the Calamity. Not even the apocalypse could diminish the lingering desire for power among those who remained.

But she maintained her composure, letting elegance dominate her expression, "I need you to listen to the future, to find a possible cure for this affliction."

"It is troublesome," murmured the crone before hastily adding, "Once I return, I will immediately prepare, and I will make sure to be ready as soon as possible for you."

"No, you’ll stay here," Rania smiled, "I can hardly wait to hear what you’ve discovered."

The crone swallowed.

The door behind her opened, and two Great Knights in resplendent suits of Heavy Armor entered, radiating warmth like the early morning sun, a heat that made the Murmuring Crone distinctly uncomfortable.

"But I still need..."

"You will have everything you need, whatever you lack," Rania said.

The crone dared not refuse, just as she hadn’t thought to decline when she first learned the Queen had sought her out. After all, refusing was never an option for the weak.

"Yes," the Murmuring Crone clearly couldn’t laugh anymore.

The method of divination was complex, but Rania Hedwin watched intently, surrounded by various forces of power.

The Ring of Magic had cursed the nobility. Being royal, she dared not touch that power, whereas regular Soldiers, untroubled by such issues, were yet limited by their talents. Moreover, taking the Magic Potion was a risky affair, and most Great Knights would not dare to drink a deeper dosage without absolute confidence.

Rania sat at the table; after being forced to leave Goliath and move to Lord Baya’s territory, the new "Lord" knew she favored wooden tables and had one sent to her immediately.

The oak material was very similar to her makeup table, except that this table also used ivory, gold dust, and gemstones for decoration.

The golden color was heavily featured. The Rand Kingdom revered gold.

Lania’s fingers gently tapped on the table. The sound of her fingertips hitting the table was particularly clear in the specially cleaned "prophecy room."

The Soldiers’ breathing was obscured by helmets, and they probably couldn’t hear the sound.

Only the murmuring witch seemed stimulated as she circled and spun, her eyes flashing with light, murmuring fragmented words to herself.

To divine the future related to Lania required her cooperation, so although her presence was oppressive, it was absolutely indispensable.

"Dragon," the murmuring witch uttered the first word.

Very good!

The dragon, the emblem of the Hedwin Family. If the murmuring witch was not making things up at random, the direction was correct.

"Gold"

The second word was very directive.

Gold was not only the Rand Kingdom’s favorite thing, but it was also the impression other countries had of the Rand Kingdom, related to its resurgence.

"Sun... Dark Flame"

Lania slightly stopped tapping her fingers. She began to not understand, her eyebrows furrowing without her notice, and the sound of her fingers tapping on the table had already stopped.

What is the Sun, the Sun’s Testament? The Sun Church?

Then what about the Dark Flame.

"Rage, slaughter," the murmuring witch’s speech quickened, "anger, destruction, death..."

The face with sagging skin suddenly lifted to look at Lania. "I heard your voice and a deep man’s voice, snatched from some future."

Lania’s furrowed brows slowly relaxed.

The feigned madness in the murmuring witch’s voice irritated her, as no one could toy with a queen’s patience.

"What did you hear?"

"I always wished it was you who would die, Lania," the murmuring witch directly addressed the queen by her name.

Clang!

Swords were drawn.

The Great Knights converged, ready to kill her right there for her great disrespect.

"Stop," Lania halted the Great Knights. "It’s just a prophecy, don’t take it too seriously. But murmuring witch, is everything you said true?"

She stared at the old witch’s figure, suppressing her with an authority unique to kings.

The murmuring witch bent down. "I swear, your noble Majesty the Queen, every word is true!"

"She speaks the truth, every word," a voice came from beside Lania. The murmuring witch, who had been hanging her head low, tensed.

The quietly standing maid beside Lania was obviously also a witch, and she seemed to have the ability to discern the truth.

"You may leave now, I will grant you everything you need," Lania gestured dismissively.

This prophecy weighed heavily on Lania’s heart, indicating that the current people were not her ultimate enemies, but someone who knew her, even dared to call her by her name, wanted to kill her.

The only ones capable of this were the Nobles—even those who clamored for her head would call her Queen, as more often, those enemies preferred to imbue all honors onto her, so that by decapitating her, they would gain more glory.

Could it really be necessary to marry Lord Baya?

That would be the worst choice, the Queen’s expression soured, but then she laughed off the panic-stricken thought that had momentarily arisen.

She would rather face the battle head-on. She had never been afraid!

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