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Chapter 871: 724: Coronation_3

Chapter 871: Chapter 724: Coronation_3

Before dawn.

Prince Simon said to his wife: “You don’t need to attend my coronation ceremony. After daybreak, take Hora and Ivan and leave the Royal Capital. Father won’t stop you.”

Prince Simon had been His Royal Highness for more than thirty years.

Now he had both a son and a daughter.

He had never thought about becoming a King.

It’s just a pity.

In the Varo Royal Family, there is no such thing as affection by blood.

Accompanied by the sound of a horn from a distance.

Prince Simon came to his senses, took a deep breath, sniffled, and stood before the Gate of Palas, watching for the arrival of the Throne of Light.

The Gate of Palas.

This is a gate of triumph.

A thousand years ago, after the battle between humans and elves, the first King of the Saint Vlaro Empire was crowned by the Pope of Light in front of the Gate of Palas.

However, since then.

No new King has been able to be crowned at the Gate of Palas.

Prince Simon is the second today.

But as he watched the radiant Throne of Light slowly approaching, it seemed as though he was seeing a huge guillotine blade coming down on his head.

The four sides of the Gate of Palas.

Are filled with restless nobles and royal siblings who either grit their teeth or eye him covetously.

They remain extravagantly dressed, seeming unaware of the danger lurking behind.

The Throne of Light arrives before the Gate of Palas.

But does not stop.

The palanquin, carried by dozens of people, ascends the steps, reaching the highest point of the Gate of Palas, settling on the elevated viewing platform, with the daylight shining on the gleaming Sun Crown.

Subsequently, two columns of the Knight Order stand in front of the Throne of Light, and the solemn Pope of Light is helped up by his handmaidens.

A cheer rises.

Beneath the Gate of Palas, in addition to nobles, farther away is the crowd that followed the arrival of the Throne of Light, who toss flowers high in the air, as if cheering for the new King’s coronation.

The Pope of Light, holding his staff of authority, looks down from on high, a brilliant light cascades from the sky.

It’s hard to tell if it’s sunlight, or the radiance of divinity.

For the moment, Simon does not know.

Is this his coronation.

Or is it the coronation of the Pope of Light?

But this sudden thought truly chills him to the bone, causing goosebumps to bristle intensely.

“Radiance of Light.”

The Papal figure on the high platform touches his forehead, and his cold, majestic voice sounds as if it comes from him, yet also seems to drift over on the breeze, reaching the minds of everyone present.

In an instant, the Gate of Palas falls silent.

This is a peculiar power.

Prince Simon feels even his own heart quieting down.

“Prince Simon.”

The Pope’s voice rings out again.

Prince Simon snaps back to reality, immediately stands firmly at the Gate of Palas, then under the chanting of the royal priests, he steps solemnly and gravely towards the stairs.

The coronation ceremony, Wald XVIII is not present.

But it seems no one cares about this matter.

Because this coronation ceremony is so plain that it seems like a joke.

Only the great Duchy of the Senate guides him on what to do, leading him slowly to the Gate of Palas, then stopping three yards away from the Pope of Light, kneeling on one knee with his head bowed.

Prince Simon feels as if he’s laying his head under the guillotine.

Not waiting for the crown to fall.

But waiting for the guillotine to fall.

He stares intently at the white lime ground, his heart thumping wildly, his thoughts a jumbled mess, himself a jumbled mess.

And then.

A loud shout comes.

“Wait a moment!”

…