The Bigshot's Superstar Wife-Chapter 123: The King

King Aldebrand stood in the grand hall of the imperial palace, his fingers clenching the golden armrest of his throne as his eyes darkened with fury.

The marble floors beneath him gleamed under the light of the celestial chandeliers, but despite the grandeur, an oppressive silence filled the air.

Before him, his most trusted minister knelt, head bowed, waiting for a response. The king’s rage was palpable, a storm barely contained within his form.

He had just been given the most alarming news since the start of his reign, his beloved firstborn, Crown Prince Zyvander, had been secretly amassing a private army.

The thought alone sent a sharp pang through his chest.

He had always favored Zyvander, had molded him into a future ruler, given him the best military training, the best tutors, the best resources.

Everything he had done was to ensure that his son would inherit an empire at its strongest.

But for his own son to move behind his back, to build a force outside of royal control, was this not an act of betrayal?

With a voice that trembled, not with fear but with wrath, he finally spoke. "How long has this been going on?"

The minister hesitated for only a moment before answering. "For at least five years, Your Majesty."

A dangerous silence stretched between them. Five years.

King Aldebrand’s grip on the armrest tightened. "And none of you thought to tell me sooner?"

The minister lowered his head further, pressing his forehead to the cool marble floor.

"Forgive us, Your Majesty. His Highness was… discreet. His movements were well-hidden, and he had placed many loyalists within the palace walls."

The king’s eyes burned with fury, and yet, beneath the rage, a deeper, colder emotion seeped in, disappointment.

He had trusted Zyvander. He had seen him as the only son worthy of the throne. Yet now, that son was preparing to overthrow him.

He took a deep breath, controlling the whirlwind of emotions in his chest. "Tell me everything. Who are his supporters? How far has he gone?"

The minister hesitated again. "Your Majesty… it seems the Crown Prince has not only built an army but has also made a pact with the high-level Zergs."

The silence that followed was deafening. A chill spread through the king’s veins, colder than any winter. "Zergs?" His voice was low, dangerous.

"Yes, Your Majesty. We have reason to believe he has been working with them to enhance his forces. He is recruiting soldiers with unusual abilities, ones that resemble the traits of the high-level Zergs. This is beyond simple ambition, this is a direct threat to the empire."

For a long moment, King Aldebrand did not speak. His mind raced through the implications. This wasn’t just a power struggle anymore.

If Zyvander had truly allied with the Zergs, he was no longer fit to be emperor. He was a traitor to their kind.

The king closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. He had always believed power should be earned, not taken.

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Had he not shown Zyvander that? Had he failed as a father? Or had his son been rotten from the beginning?

Slowly, he opened his eyes, their golden hue flashing with renewed determination.

"Send word to all royal generals. I want an immediate assessment of our forces. If Zyvander wants war, I will give him war."

The minister bowed deeply. "Yes, Your Majesty."

As the man rushed off to carry out his orders, the king sat back against his throne, his gaze fixed on the grand murals above him.

They depicted the long history of the empire, of rulers who had shaped their world with wisdom, strength, and unshakable resolve.

Would he be remembered as the king who let his empire fall? No. He refused to let his son’s betrayal define his reign. And so, the battle for the throne truly began.

The king remained seated on his golden throne, his fingers drumming against the intricate carvings on the armrest.

The echoes of his minister’s hurried footsteps had long faded, yet his thoughts remained heavy with the weight of betrayal.

His own son. His chosen heir. The prince he had raised and favored above all others, plotting behind his back.

He exhaled sharply, the fury in his chest simmering like molten steel. Five years. Five years of secrecy, of lies.

Had he truly been so blind? Or had Zyvander become so cunning that he had fooled even his own father?

A deep voice interrupted his storming thoughts. "Your Majesty."

The king turned his gaze towards the new arrival, General Cassius Regnor, one of the highest-ranking officers in the royal military.

A formidable warrior, clad in the dark silver armor of the palace guards, his expression was tense.

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"You’ve heard the news," the king said, his tone unreadable.

Cassius bowed deeply. "I have, Your Majesty. And I must say, this is beyond mere disobedience. The Crown Prince’s actions are treasonous."

The king let out a bitter chuckle. "Treasonous… My own son, working with the Zergs." His jaw tightened, his hand clenching into a fist.

"What a fool. Does he not realize the danger he has put the empire in? Those creatures are incapable of true loyalty."

Cassius took a step forward, his voice firm.

"Your Majesty, I suggest we act swiftly. If the Crown Prince has truly allied with the Zergs, his forces will be unpredictable. The Zergs are violent, unstable, and if left unchecked, they could overrun Asenus, or worse, breach Sinalta."

The king’s golden eyes darkened. Sinalta. The empire’s strongest planetary defense line. If that were to fall, the empire would crumble.

He could not allow it.

He rose to his feet, his royal robes billowing behind him.

"Cassius, I want every military unit on high alert. Find out who within the palace is loyal to Zyvander. Arrest those who are complicit."

Cassius pounded his chest in salute. "It will be done, Your Majesty."

The king’s gaze sharpened. "And one more thing. Reach out to Major General Mors. If Zyvander has truly made a deal with the Zergs, Mors will be the first to notice their movements. I want constant reports."

Cassius hesitated briefly. "Your Majesty, are you certain? The Jericho family has long been a threat to the throne. Mors himself..."

"...is a soldier first." The king cut him off.

"And right now, I need soldiers who will put the empire above their own ambitions. We do not have the luxury of personal rivalries. Not when our very survival is at stake."

Cassius nodded, his expression unreadable. "I understand."

As the general turned to leave, the king clenched his jaw, his gaze falling to the imperial crest embedded in the marble floor beneath him.

Zyvander… You have forced my hand.

And he would not hesitate to strike.