Chapter 911

Rafael and Carissa sat in a private room on the second floor of a tavern near the city gates. The room boasted the best view in the establishment. With the windows open, they could see the entire area surrounding the gates.

Rafael, knowing their schedule was inflexible, had reserved the room so Carissa could see Dominic. Carissa’s gaze never left Dominic’s face; her eyes were hungry, as if she couldn't get enough of him. She longed to rush down, throw herself into her grandfather's arms, and cry as she used to when she was a child. She wanted to pour out her grievances, and imagine her grandfather gently patting her head, promising retribution for anyone who dared hurt his granddaughter.

Instead, she stood on the second floor, watching as Dominic's horse was surrounded by a throng of people, listening to their deafening roars of support. Tears welled in her eyes. Her grandfather had aged—truly, profoundly aged.

In the past, despite graying temples, his spirit had been sharp, his will unwavering. He could spar with her father without breaking a sweat upon his return to the capital. Now, Dominic's hair was completely white, with barely a trace of black remaining. The long journey had taken its toll. While his commanding presence remained strong, weariness was evident. He had also grown much thinner; his once full cheeks were now hollow, the skin still the same color, but the underlying flesh sagged. This was the mark of old age; her grandfather had truly grown old.

Dominic trudged slowly through the crowd, occasionally raising a hand in acknowledgment. At other times, he anxiously glanced at the Crown Guard, worried they might inadvertently injure someone in the crowd as they pushed people back.

It took nearly an hour for the procession to reach the area below the tavern. The Garrison Unit and Capital Guard were supposed to clear the way, but the crowd was too dense. What began as a few people pushing forward had become an impenetrable wall of bodies. Initially, there was space to move, but now the people formed a human barricade, surrounding Dominic protectively.

Some tried to confront the Crown Guard, but others immediately shouted them down, insisting that causing trouble would only harm Dominic. Gradually, the crowd began chanting their belief that the king would treat the old general fairly, a man who had guarded the borders for so many years.

Eventually, the chants morphed into a steady roar of "His Majesty is wise!" and "His Majesty is virtuous!" The transformation was seamless, almost effortless. An hour was sufficient time for those hidden in the crowd to turn the tide, shifting the sentiment from initial anger and support to overwhelming praise for the king.

Chapter 911 +25 BONUS

Among them was a man disguised as an ordinary civilian, whose voice was the loudest. He led the others, and his loud voice wasn't his only contribution. His disguise was meticulously crafted—thanks to Claire and others. No one recognized them as members of the Hell Monarch Estate.

Furthermore, Travis, originally from the martial world, possessed a rough, unrefined air. Even though he served as a guard leader in the Hell Monarch Estate, his origins were still apparent. With so many people present, identifying anyone with certainty was impossible, even under scrutiny.

The repeated chants of "His Majesty is wise" seemed like a tribute to Salvador. Once, this was the praise Salvador most desired. But not today. Now, it symbolized the people's expectation of how Salvador would handle Dominic—an expectation only a wise king could meet. This meant Salvador had no choice but to be lenient with the general.

Dominic finally looked up and saw Carissa. The moment their eyes met, and she mouthed "Grandpa," a tear escaped his already bloodshot eye. Carissa's tears immediately followed, streaming down her face.

He sighed. She rarely cried, but when she did, comforting her was difficult. With her tears flowing like that, who could possibly console her?

Dominic noticed the Hell Monarch standing beside her, his hand resting reassuringly on her shoulder, holding her close. Good. Someone was there to comfort her.