System S.E.X. (Seduction, Expansion, eXecution)

Chapter 769: Chapter 769: Gala and Audacity

Chapter 769: Gala and Audacity

Inside his quarters, Ethan had sprawled out on the massive feather bed, resting with his arms behind his head after the long journey. However, his nap was short-lived. Three hurried knocks on the door interrupted his rest, followed by the entry of a group of imperial maids carrying a heavy sandalwood chest with extreme caution.

"Deputy General, by order of His Majesty Alaric, we deliver your official armor for the audience," the head maid announced with a bow before retreating.

Ethan got up lazily and opened the chest. A dazzling golden light nearly blinded him: it was a full treasure-grade armor custom-forged by the royal court. It featured dragon-jaw pauldrons, embedded runic gems, and a breastplate so highly polished it could double as a mirror.

"Way too flashy..." Ethan muttered, shaking his head.

Without a second thought, he slammed the chest shut and shoved it into a corner. Instead, he opted for his usual attire: a simple black cloth robe with subtle dark embroidery along the cuffs—light, comfortable, and cinched at the waist with his trusty belt where his black sword rested. He didn’t even bother styling his hair properly; he just ran a hand through it after his nap and stepped out into the main corridor.

At that exact moment, the door to the princess’s royal suite swung open.

Isabella emerged wearing a majestic, midnight-blue ballgown that delicately hugged her figure, dusted with tiny crystals resembling a starry firmament. Her hair, swept up into a refined style, displayed her slender neck accented by an imperial sapphire necklace. Her very presence radiated a sovereign, breathtaking elegance.

The contrast between the two as they met face-to-face in the hallway could not have been more staggering.

Isabella stopped dead in her tracks, scanning Ethan from head to toe with wide eyes and a slightly parted mouth.

"Is that... is that the High General armor my father specifically commissioned for you?" the princess asked, pointing a trembling finger at him while struggling to maintain her composure.

"It was too heavy and shone like a chandelier," Ethan replied with complete nonchalance, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Besides, I’m going to an audience, not a war. I’m comfortable like this."

At that precise moment, King Alaric and Great General Vaelen rounded the corner. Upon seeing his daughter looking like a celestial goddess standing beside Ethan—who looked as though he had just rolled out of bed from a nap in his casual robe—Alaric froze, slapping a hand over his face with a groan of frustration.

"Tell me you’re not going before the Emperor looking like that..." Alaric pleaded, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You look like you’re going to buy bread at the market, not an imperial audience!"

"Relax, Your Majesty," Ethan said with a lazy smirk. "The Emperor said he wanted to meet the hero who wiped out the sects, not a gold-plated mannequin."

Vaelen let out a booming laugh that echoed off the marble walls, while Isabella could only cover her mouth and shake her head, torn between diplomatic embarrassment and unavoidable amusement.

King Alaric let out a long sigh, running a hand through his beard as he tried to soothe his impending headache. He knew full well that attempting to force Ethan to change his clothes was a lost cause before it even began.

"Do whatever you want, brat," Alaric muttered, waving his arm to get them moving. "Just try not to start a war before tonight’s banquet. The imperial carriage should already be waiting at the entrance."

The group descended the palace’s grand staircase. Below, the imperial guard’s carriage of honor, escorted by a dozen knights atop winged beasts, waited with its doors wide open. The driver and delegation liaison nearly dropped his hat upon seeing the radiant princess step down beside a youth who looked as if he were taking a casual Sunday stroll in a simple robe with the hilt of his black sword clearly visible.

Ethan boarded first without an ounce of shame, offering his hand to Isabella to help her up with her voluminous gown. The princess accepted his hand with a suppressed smile, settling beside him on the velvet seats.

"You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?" Isabella whispered in his ear once the doors closed and the carriage began soaring toward the Imperial Palace.

"A little bit," Ethan admitted in a low voice, leaning his back against the cushion as he looked out the window at the Imperial Capital’s majestic crystal spires. "Besides, the more comfortable I am, the better I react if someone decides to try something stupid during this audience."

Isabella sighed, though her gaze turned serious. "The Emperor isn’t like the people we’ve faced in the south, Ethan. His mere presence can suffocate cultivators in the Spiritual Transcendence Realm. Keep your guard up."

"Always, Your Highness," Ethan replied, his eyes flashing with a subtle spark of anticipation. "Let’s see if the ruler of this empire is as imposing as they say."

The carriage crossed the majestic gates of the Imperial Palace, coming to a stop in a vast white marble plaza surrounded by golden pillars. The honor guard pulled the door open, allowing Ethan and Isabella to step down in full view of the diplomats and servants passing through the area.

A herald stationed atop the main staircase raised his runic staff and cleared his throat, projecting his voice across the entire plaza.

"Announcing the arrival of Her Excellency, Princess Isabella of the Soaring Dragon Kingdom, accompanied by Deputy General Ethan!" the herald proclaimed solemnly.

At the foot of the massive double entrance doors, an elderly man with graying hair and immaculately starched butler robes awaited with flawless posture. His face radiated a serene warmth—a stark contrast to the previous envoys’ arrogance.

The elder offered a deep bow to the pair before glancing down at Ethan’s simple robe. With a fluid motion, he gestured to two servants holding a silver tray draped in silk, upon which rested a soberly tailored imperial gala suit woven with silver thread and black gem accents.

"Welcome to the Imperial Palace, Deputy General," the butler greeted in a warm voice. "If I may be so bold, I took the liberty of preparing this gala attire for you. It comes at no cost whatsoever; you need only accept the gift. Consider it a small courtesy from the estate to ensure your presence shines as it ought to in tonight’s audience."

Ethan held the elder’s gaze for a brief moment. Sensing that the gesture stemmed neither from mockery nor diplomatic condescension, but rather a genuine effort to save face and ease his way through the court, his expression softened.

"I appreciate the gesture," Ethan replied with a slight nod. "It’s clear it comes from good faith, so I’ll accept it."

The butler smiled with relief and sincere gratitude before guiding them to an adjoining private room for Ethan to change before entering the throne room.

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