C5 The Ceremony

Even the manor of a fallen royal family had a strong aristocratic atmosphere.

The carriage trotted its way through the gate and around the gardens, heading straight for the great house of the manor that was full of windows.

Albert followed John into the big house, and what met his eyes was from the open door of the ancient wooden carvings, to the hall with simple lines of carved stone pillars, and then to the parlor with sofas carved with waves on the armrests.

Albert had to admit that every part of the manor house was permeated with a kind of restrained classical beauty, and this kind of classical beauty was always radiating a kind of solemnity similar to that of the Holy Temple.

In the face of John's wife and children as well as other honored guests, Albert, who did not belong to this world, was so constrained that he did not know how to return his greetings.

No one accused him of rudeness, but rather the smile he wore without a word aroused the goodwill of the people, who watched the pair politely as they walked through the parlor and up the stairs to the study.

There were no windows in this study, and the three walls beyond the door were lined with bookshelves filled with books of varying sizes.

A young blonde youth stood at the top of the ladder, staring intently at the book in his hands.

"Upton, get out, I need to talk to Mr. Albert about something."

"Mr. Albert? Is that the adventurer Albert von Ardenne?"

With a look of excitement on his face, Upton nimbly clipped his bookmark into the book, put it back in its place, jumped down the ladder, and walked toward Albert.

From the hands that shook each other, Albert felt more than just the enthusiasm of Upton's pampered life.

In this world, only this group of aristocrats can have hands so soft as if they were freshly born piglets, right?

"Mr. Albert, I've often heard your stories at the Radiance Bar, and they're nothing short of brilliant ......"

"Upton, don't waste Mr. Albert's time."

Before Upton could finish his sentence, John gave a stern expulsion order, and Upton could only smile awkwardly and wilt away from the study.

John pulled out a number of books from the shelves, then flicked a switch, a secret door opened, he looked to Albert, and after asking him to take a seat and wait, he turned and walked in.

John's disclosure of his secret made Albert wary, but when he saw the dozen or so heavy cowhide notebooks John was carrying in his arms when he came out of the secret room, his caution turned to awe.

"These are two hundred years of efforts by each of our rightful heirs to the throne to find the airship fleet."

It dawned on Albert that the Chelvessi royal family had spent every moment of the two hundred years since they had lost power trying to regain it.

It was difficult for Albert to visualize what a huge fortune was taken away by the airship fleet back then.

"Two hundred years ...... have not been found?"

Albert muttered as he opened and picked up a notepad from the very top, the weight of which was more than he could have imagined.

"As you know, the routes of the flying ships, except for the trade lines linking the three continental islands, cover less than twenty empty islands.

It's not because people don't want to explore, it's because people don't have perfected course setting technology."

"Yeah, there are no stars, no moon, only a sun that always hangs overhead, what are you going to do to set a course ......" Albert, who was flipping through the notepad, absently said the words that his heart had been wanting to spit out, but after flipping through the pages for two pages he realized the problem .

These notepads were too mixed up in remembering things.

He sighed and said, "Looks like there's no way I can bring these back to read them is there?"

"In fact you can't even take this study out with you.

I will provide you with a guest room, and if you don't want to stay with me, then I will send someone to take care of transportation to and from your place."

Albert froze and burst out laughing in embarrassment.

"What's the use of that? Aren't you afraid I'll go out and talk nonsense?"

John shrugged and said, "Like the stars in your mouth, the average person wouldn't know what it meant when they heard it."

Albert's eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at John.

"You know about the stars?"

"I've read in the family notes that they're little glowing dots that float in the sky."

"And where did he see them?"'

"It was that ancestor of mine who saw it in the Timothy book when our family still controlled the continent of Moanco.

But to be honest, I agree that it was an amusing hallucination, as I can't imagine so much as one thing existing at all."

"It does exist, but not here."

Albert murmured, pulling his thoughts back from the recollection of the stars and focusing his full attention on the task of sifting and filtering the clues.

John watched Albert's silence and got up, slowly exiting the door as if he were afraid of disturbing the maniacal maniac in his work.

Outside the door, his eldest son, Upton, was waiting with an expectant look on his face.

"Don't disturb him."

Upon hearing his father's words, Upton showed excitement with the flair expected of his age.

"So that means we're about to set sail?"

John glanced lightly at his excited son and patted him on the shoulder.

"We don't know how long it'll take him from getting the clues to setting a course, and we'll have to complete the ceremony of passing the throne before then."

Upton froze in place until John looked back at him for a few moments before he opened his mouth shakily.

"Father, you can completely retrieve the royal family's holy relics yourself, as long as the royal family's holy relics are there, then we ......"

"No!"

John firmly interrupted Ampton's words, placing his hand on his son's shoulder, his eyes filled with dismay tinged with envy.

"I have counted, my son, our successive heirs to the throne have devoted themselves to the search for the sacred relics of the royal family, and the vastness of their footsteps shows just how big this

how big this world is.

I'm getting old, both my swordsmanship and reflexes are deteriorating, and the skies over the Beyhive are dangerous, and having Albert alone is not enough."

John said, patting his son on the shoulder as if he was passing on some sort of will.

"It's up to you to carry out the beliefs of the royal family next."

The amount of work involved in sifting through the clues was so overwhelming that in half a day Albert had only finished one of the books, and that was only one-tenth of the total workload

of a tenth of the total.

He stood up and stretched, and was startled by a silent John.

"When did you get here?

"When you read page five hundred and forty-seven of Burnhamming's handbook."

Albert was a little embarrassed; he seemed to be a little anti-climactic in someone else's study.

"Mr. John, I am a rough man, so please point out to my face if I have been rude."

John waved his hand, the smile on his face was not a perfunctory courtesy, it carried the kind of glee that comes from being given the key to a secret treasure.

"On the contrary, I am very pleased that you are able to give your full attention to your work.

However, it is time for you to take a proper rest, the meal and stateroom are ready for you, and if you insist on returning to your flying ship

I will arrange for you to be escorted, if you insist on returning to your flying ship."

Albert drew out a piece of paper and after brushing a few words on it, handed it to John.

"I left the flying boat in a hurry, but I don't want to go back before I've finished sifting through the clues either, so this note will please go to my crew chief

Hillpeter."

John took the note, picked up an envelope on the desk and put it in.

The whole process was surprisingly humble, as if he were serving a superior who could not afford to be offended, and there was a complete lack of royal condescension, which made Sherryman uncomfortable.

A few minutes later, Albert was led to a room with thick black curtains, this room is not big, but very well prepared.

Albert could see at once that John was intentionally creating a claustrophobic environment similar to his own captain's cabin.

He smiled at the other man and said, "It's really a pleasure to take the trouble."

John made a gesture of invitation, and after Albert sat down on the sofa, he owed a slight bow.

"I'll have an underling bring your meal, and this underling will be standing at your door afterward, so if you want to get back to work when you wake up, just let him know and he'll bring you to me."

It is often the case that when you devote all your energies to a certain task, you do not feel the passage of time, and you do not even know how tired you are, but when you remove your attention, the accumulated fatigue bursts out in a brainstorm.

Such was the case with Albert.

He hadn't been able to wait for the meal to be brought by the servants and had fallen asleep while sitting on the small sofa.

John covered him with a blanket, the gentle motion as if he were covering some precious work of art.

Upton was already waiting outside the door, no longer in the excitement of yesterday, and with a heavy heart and a resigned look on his face.

"Father, the ceremony is ready."

John was in front like, with a firm pace, like a warrior ready to die.

"You ...... don't think about it anymore?"

John could hear the reluctance in his son's heart, but he did not stop his steps.

"Son, what I'm going to face is not death in the worldly sense, you will understand this after completing the ceremony of passing the throne."

The location of the ceremony was a deep cellar deep underground, a dark corner where the supreme sun could not shine.

John's wife, Ormor, was holding a tome, her eyes red, and it was clear that she knew what the ceremony meant.

John's youngest son, on the other hand, took his sister's hand and mischievously tried to touch the flickering candle flame.

John took the dagger and cut a bloody slit in his wrist, dripping the blood into an antique crystal goblet, waiting for enough blood to form a spell while he explained something to Upton.

In fact, he had nothing to explain, because all of his important records were recorded in the family book that successive generations of heirs would write, both those who had completed and those who had not.

Even so, he was still giving instructions on trivial matters, like a parent about to go on a long trip, telling a child who is alone at home to remember to eat on time.

Upton was collecting his own blood as well, dropping it slowly as if it would detain his father, although he knew it was futile, but he still wished he could hear more from his father.

"By the way ...... Albert has a pendant in the shape of a leaf, that's supposed to be a cursed object, it makes the person who touches it involuntarily speak the truthful

words.

Don't reveal any hostility towards him until you find the Heart of Splendor, the sacred object of the royal family.

During the time between finding the Heart of Splendor and completing the restoration of the kingdom, my original intention was to kill him, but now that decision is

is given to you."

Upton listened quietly, thinking hard, for he was not the boy at home alone, and the father who had bidden him to eat his meals at regular intervals would never

never return.

"And what of his mastery of navigation?"

"That does not help in ruling, it is dispensable."

There was an end to the many words, and the trickle of blood from his wrist felt like time that would never return.

Amidst that sob from Omo, and under the terrified gaze of the two children, the two began to draw their respective spells in silence.

The silence was so heavy that it was as if the sticky asphalt was unbreathable.

Even so, Upton opened his mouth.

"Father, won't you say goodbye to mother?"

John grinned, his hand movements still precise and steady as a mountain.

"Boy, don't underestimate your mother, she is the king's woman, the moment she married the king she already had the realization."

Gradually, the two spell formations intersected, forming two connected circles with complicated inscriptions, the two of them stood in the center of their respective spell formations

centers, hands drawn together.

"Begin Omo."

With John's command, Omo, who had tears in her eyes, became determined, and holding the tome, she recited the obscure French word by word.

Light emerged from John's chest, piercing through his clothes and illuminating the entire deep cellar as if it were daytime.

The faster O'Malley read the French, the firmer her tone became, the whiter John's body began to glow, his eyes, his mouth, his ears, his whole face, his eyes, his mouth, his ears, his ears, his whole face, his eyes, his mouth, his ears, his ears.

face ......

As the last sentence of the French was shouted out in a high-pitched voice by Ormor, the light from John's body shifted to Upton.

As if he was under immense weight, Ampton first gasped raggedly and then roared as if giving vent.

Eventually, Upton was enveloped by the blazing white light emanating from himself, and his father, who was holding hands with him, had disappeared.

The ceremony ended, and Ampton stepped out of the phalanx, a blazing white afterglow still emanating from him, wafting upward in wisps like blazing white vapor, the

silken streaks:

At this moment, his mind was filled with many memories that did not belong to him, and he finally understood why his father had kept his identity hidden, why he had endured the

suffering from the usurper's difficulties.

For he saw the calculated plan of his father, and indeed of successive kings who had lost their thrones.

He looked down at his mother, but he couldn't say "mother", as if something was holding him back.

In the end, he said something he couldn't even believe, but felt so justified.

"Omer Kelly, your king has returned."