Extraordinary Rise: Starting Contract with the Silver Dragon Countess

After Flint explained Claire's identity, he paused briefly to allow Garland to process this shocking news.

Then he began to talk about his experiences over the years:

"And I, your old friend Flint, did not escape by chance back then either."

I also died in that massacre, but it was my daughter who, after gaining power, forcibly pulled me, an old bone that should have been long dead, back from the edge of the realm of the dead.

"It reshaped this body, gave me a second life, and also gave me the chance for revenge."

Garland was completely stunned. His mouth was open, but no sound came out. He just stared at Flint as if he were seeing the man for the first time.

The sheer volume of information overwhelmed his understanding like a tsunami.

His niece was the Queen of the Tides? His old friend was a person who had come back from the dead? All of this was far beyond the scope of his decades of life experience.

But Flint's eyes were so calm, so honest, without the slightest sign of joking or madness.

Moreover, considering the recent series of events concerning the Tide Queen and the Crimson Raiders, this absurd claim surprisingly possesses a certain unbelievable logic.

Garland's voice was hoarse. He slowly sat up straight, his expression gradually shifting from extreme shock to an incredulous realization:

"So... you mean, this Pirate King is going to enter Whirlpool Castle with Claire."

What our June family needs to do is provide them with two absolutely genuine, reliable identities that will not arouse any suspicion, to help them safely infiltrate the capital and get close to Greg.

Flint nodded slowly:

"That's right, Garland. That's the core of the whole plan."

The Pirate King and Queen Claire will personally carry out this plan.

They needed a suitable springboard, and the June family had everything they needed: status, connections, and resources.

In addition, the Pirate King asked me to convey this message to you, and also to the old Marquis.

He understands your concerns and is not asking you to immediately raise the banner of rebellion.

However, if the plan succeeds, the Southern Empire will inevitably undergo a dramatic change. The supreme throne will not forever belong solely to the Alvis family.

When the old order collapses, new pillars must always be erected to support the sky.

So why can't that new surname be...Ju En?

Garland's heart skipped a beat. The promise of the crown, even if it was just a distant and vague shadow, was enough to make the blood of any ambitious person tingle.

But he was, after all, Garland June, the heir carefully groomed by the June family, a pragmatist who had been navigating the power struggles of the empire for many years.

"Juan?"

He repeated the word, a mocking smile playing on his lips, his gaze piercing Flint:
"Just because... a mere 'Crimson Raider'?"
"Flint, my old friend, even with your daughter's astonishing identity, even if you joined forces to severely cripple Gregor, this is entirely different from overthrowing a vast empire that has stood for millennia!"

Faced with Garland's sarcasm and doubts, Flint neither vehemently refuted them nor attempted to paint a more glamorous picture.

He simply looked back at Garland calmly, and beneath that calmness lay a firm belief based on his own experience:

“There are many things, Garland, but due to my position and commitments, I cannot tell you the details.”

The true origins of the Pirate King, the power he possesses, the schemes behind him, and... the beings he connects with that are beyond our imagination.

All I can say is that before I met him, I was just like you, believing that many things were absolutely impossible.

But now, I have witnessed firsthand how the impossible has become possible.

I cannot prove everything to you, but I swear on my life, on the last honor of the Salgado family:

So far, nothing he has ever failed—no matter what he has decided to do or what plans he has decided to push forward.

Defeating Greg was just the tip of the iceberg.

What he saw and planned was far more profound than any of us could imagine!

Having said all that, Flint seemed to have exhausted all the words he could use to negotiate and persuade.

He leaned back in his chair: "That's all I have to say, Garland."

I've told you everything I could.

The stakes involved here go far beyond our personal hatred or friendship; it concerns the future fate of the Junen family, and perhaps even the future of the entire empire.

I don't need your answer right now.

You need time to process this, and you also need to... discuss it with the people you should consult."

It goes without saying who he was referring to—the old Marquis Gringoire June, who, though living in seclusion, still wielded immense influence.

"Three days from now, at the same time, in the same place. I will await your reply, whether it is approval or rejection."

Flint gave Garland one last look, his gaze complex, containing both past trust and a resolute determination for the future.

Then, without lingering, he turned around, opened the door, and his figure quickly disappeared into the shadows of the corridor outside the door. His footsteps soon faded away at the bottom of the stairs.

In the private room, only Garland June remained, facing the flickering fire and the suffocating silence that filled the room.

……

After leaving the "Oak Barrels and Anchors" tavern, Garland went straight back to the Marquis's mansion.

He needed to see someone immediately—his father, Marquis Gringoire June, the true pillar of the June family, the old lion who, though seemingly reclusive, still firmly controlled the family's direction.

The deepest room in the family library, filled with ancient scrolls and heavy books, was the aging marquis's favorite place for contemplation.

The soft glow of the magic lamp illuminated the dust motes floating in the air, and also the still sharp eyes on the old marquis's face.

Garland dismissed all the servants, locked the heavy copper-clad wooden door from the inside, and only after ensuring the absolute safety of the quiet room with its soundproof barrier did he sit down opposite his father.

Garland organized his thoughts slightly and told his father everything that had happened at the "Oak Barrel and Anchor" tavern: Flint's appearance, his identity, the news he brought, the shocking secret about "Queen Claire of the Tides," and the mysterious "Pirate King's" enormous and almost insane plan—including the final hint about the "Juan" surname possibly being crowned.

Garland spoke slowly and deliberately, while observing every subtle change in his father's face.

Marquis Gringoire Jun listened quietly, without interrupting.

After Garland ended his narrative with Flint's "three-day agreement," a long silence fell over the room.

The old marquis did not immediately comment on the insane plan, nor did he show excessive excitement about his "granddaughter's" miraculous survival.

Having lived to his age, very few things could truly make him lose his composure.

Instead, he talked to his son about a seemingly unrelated topic:
"After the Covenant of the Gods was signed, the foundation of the continent of Garan was already loosened."

The old alliances can no longer restrain the ambitions of those with lofty aspirations, and the old balance is beginning to crack.

I smelled the rust in the wind and heard the sound of knives being sharpened in the shadows.

Countries and families will no longer cling to their own little territories and maintain a false peace, as they did in the past.

Change is coming, maybe next year, maybe next month, maybe... even tomorrow.

He paused, his gaze fixed on the boundless darkness outside the window, as if he could see the undercurrents surging within the imperial power structure further away:

"At such a time, the first thing an emperor or a royal family should do is to clench their fists, hold all their power and resources in their own hands as tightly as possible, and eliminate any possible destabilizing factors within the organization."

Make sure that when the storm really comes, your fist is powerful and your back is safe.

He withdrew his gaze and looked directly at Garland, his eyes sharp as a hawk's.
"Galan, you must have heard some of the rumors circulating in the streets and alleys of the capital recently."

The decline and silent disappearance of those small and medium-sized families, swallowed up by various charges... is it really just a coincidence?

Garland's heart sank.

He was certainly aware of this. In recent months, several small and medium-sized families had indeed been severely suppressed and even completely disappeared from the social circles of the capital city for various "legitimate reasons"—tax issues, suspected smuggling, or even inexplicable scandals involving their heirs.

Many of them are affiliated with the June family or have business dealings with the June family.

The businesses and connections of these small and medium-sized families eventually flowed into the hands of the royal family or a few high-ranking nobles closely related to the royal family.

He had always thought this was a normal power transition in the capital, and that those families were simply not cautious enough.

But now, thanks to his father's words, these seemingly isolated events have instantly connected into a clear trajectory, sending chills down his spine.

“The Alvis family,” the old marquis said, uttering the awe-inspiring surname of the Southern Empire, but without much respect in his tone.

"They are preparing for a rainy day, or rather, taking advantage of the situation to reap the benefits."

He used the blood and wealth of those small families to fill his arsenal and consolidate his power.

When they feel they have accumulated enough strength, or when external pressure forces them to achieve a high degree of internal unity... do you think the executioner's blade won't fall on the necks of us 'eternal families'?

We are fatter than those small families, but also more difficult to deal with.

Perhaps not now, but sooner or later, they will need our bones to build the steps to their new throne, and our blood to forge their new scepter.

The downfall of the Salgado family is the best lesson to be learned! His father's words were like a bucket of ice water, extinguishing the last vestige of naive illusions about the royal family in Garan's heart and igniting the sense of crisis deep within him.

Yes, the Salgado family was once so illustrious, and their relationship with the royal family was once so close, but in the end they also met such an end.
Although the Zhu En family is older and has a deeper foundation, can it really remain unscathed forever in the face of the greedy beast of imperial power?
Especially on the eve of a dramatic change in the situation on the mainland, any possibility exists.

So at this moment, he can only choose the possibility that he is forced to consider due to the bloody reality—that supreme position.

Garland took a deep breath and said in a low voice:
“I understand, Father.”

Three days later, I will go to see him and give Flint, and that 'Pirate King,' a definite answer.

Three days passed slowly amidst anxious waiting and secret preparations.

Garland June barely slept; he held meetings for nearly three days and three nights with the old Marquis and several absolutely loyal core family members.

Various possibilities were considered, and several contingency plans were designed.

As dusk fell once more, Garland, alone and wearing the same simple cloak as before, stepped once again into the familiar box of the "Oak Barrels and Anchors" tavern.

Flint was already waiting there, still dressed in that drab gray outfit, wearing that cold metal mask, as if he had never left.

There were no unnecessary pleasantries. Garland directly stated the June family's stance:

"The June family is willing to become friends with the Pirate King."

We are willing to provide necessary assistance, but on the condition that the Junen family is never directly exposed to danger. We have the right to refuse to carry out any orders that may directly implicate the family; this is our bottom line.

Flynn nodded, a hint of relief flashing in his gray eyes:

"That's enough, Garan. On behalf of the Pirate King, I thank the June family for their foresight and courage. We will remember this kindness forever."

“It’s not about friendship, Flint.” Garland’s voice was cold, carrying the sober and ruthless air of a family tyrant. “It’s about survival, and… the possibilities of the future.”

Tell your 'sir' that the June family's gamble deserves a return commensurate with it.

We hope he will keep his word.

“He never goes back on his word,” Flint replied succinctly and forcefully.

No further words were exchanged between the two. Flint left a seemingly ordinary copper coin on the table as a credential for one-way communication in case of an emergency.

Then, just like last time, they left quietly.

Garland sat in the empty private room for a while longer, until he was sure that Flint had gone far away, before slowly getting up and blending into the deepening night of the capital.

His figure was half bathed in the dim yellow light emanating from the shops along the street, and half hidden in the deep darkness cast by the walls.

It seemed as if he and the Junen family he represented were now treading a dangerous tightrope between light and darkness, loyalty and betrayal, destruction and rebirth.

Flint navigated the intricate alleyways of the capital like a fish returning to water, skillfully evading any potential eyes and ears, eventually disappearing into the shadows of an abandoned warehouse in the port district.

Shortly afterward, in the captain's cabin of the Crimson Raider flagship "Nemesis," anchored in a secluded bay somewhere in the Endless Sea, far from Whirlpool Fortress, Flint reported back to Cohen and Claire:

"He agreed that the June family would provide support behind the scenes, on the condition that their safety be guaranteed and that promises be kept in the future."

Cohen smiled.

"Very good, I knew you wouldn't let me down."

After a pause, Cohen's voice became much more solemn, as if announcing the opening of a grand drama:
"Then it's time to pay a visit to His Highness the First Prince, who is in a terrible predicament and desperately seeking a way out."

Let's see what interesting expression this future hope of the empire will make when faced with the gift we've prepared for him!

……

Southern Empire, Whirlpool Fortress, Imperial Palace Council Hall.

The towering dome is adorned with murals depicting the conquests of successive emperors of the Southern Empire, and the sunlight filtered through the stained glass appears exceptionally solemn.

The air was thick with the dull and oppressive atmosphere inherent to power itself.

Every beat of the empire's heart here affects the pulse of its vast territory.

The long conference table was carved from a single piece of deep-sea driftwood, with a dark color and grain resembling solidified waves.

At this moment, seated around the table were the true power holders of the Southern Empire:
The cabinet ministers looked solemn, the stars and ribbons on the shoulder insignia of the military generals gleamed, the ministers had thick stacks of files at their sides, and the governors from the core provinces tried to straighten their backs, attempting to appear less cramped in the inner circle of Whirlpool Fortress.

However, today everyone's gaze inevitably drifts to the end of the long table.

The eldest prince, Gregor Ilvis.

He was supposed to sit to the left of Emperor Wilson, but now he had to sit at the very end with the local governors.

Although Gregor was still wearing a well-tailored prince's robe, and the gold-embroidered emblem was still shining, his once-straight shoulders were visibly sagging.

Beneath his meticulously groomed blond hair, his handsome yet often arrogant face was now taut like a plaster mask.

His gaze was lowered, seemingly focused on his blurry reflection on the smooth table in front of him, oblivious to the stares coming from all directions, appearing somewhat wooden.

There was no trace of the once spirited and ambitious prince in him anymore.

Life is unpredictable. Just a few months ago, Gregor was standing here, passionately outlining his grand plan to the imperial officials to conquer the endless sea, expand the empire's territory, and at the same time "warn" the increasingly restless sea creatures.

At that time, he was the empire's most dazzling star, the emperor's most valued successor, and the leader fervently supported by the young military officers. Every word he uttered seemed to carry a resounding echo.

Now, he is like a forgotten ornament in a corner, only receiving brief, cold inquiries from the emperor during the most insignificant parts of the meeting.

His own remarks also became unusually cautious, brief, and even slightly hesitant.

The lengthy investigation into the matter of Crown Prince Gregor Alvis's "unauthorized troop deployment to besiege the Merfolk Queen, disrupting the relationship between the Empire and the Sea Clan Alliance" has finally come to an end after countless meetings, mountains of reports, and covert power struggles among various factions.

Although the empire has not yet issued a formal decree, the change in the throne and the subtle atmosphere in the court have clearly declared that this once powerful prince is experiencing the greatest and most painful Waterloo of his life.

He was plummeting rapidly from the clouds, and below him were countless eyes waiting for him to be smashed to pieces, or ready to step on him again.

Finally, after a lengthy discussion of the budget, the aide-de-camp announced in a long, resonant voice:

"Silence! His Majesty the Emperor has issued a decree!"

The council chamber fell silent instantly; even the soft scratching of a quill pen across paper ceased.

All eyes turned to the gilded throne high above at the end of the long table.

Emperor Wilson Ilvis slowly stood up.

Emperor Wilson looked to be over fifty years old, with graying temples, but his posture remained upright.

He wore a deep purple royal robe embroidered with the imperial roaring sea dragon emblem, and his crown was inlaid with a large deep-sea blue sapphire that gleamed with a cold luster.

His grey-blue eyes swept over the assembled officials below, and no one dared to meet his gaze.

Finally, their gaze fell on the son at the end of the long table, who was almost shrinking into the shadows.

There was no anger or disappointment in his eyes, only the cold scrutiny of an emperor.

Emperor Wilson spoke slowly, beginning to draw the final line to this crushing defeat:
"Regarding the case of former Imperial Prince Gregor Alvis's serious dereliction of duty and abuse of power, after joint deliberation by the Imperial Supreme Court, the Cabinet and the Senate, it has now been ascertained that the facts are clear and the evidence is conclusive."

Gregor Jarvis, as an imperial prince and Prince of Canglan, should have been dutiful in upholding the interests and dignity of the empire.

However, driven by his own selfish desires, he disregarded the traditional friendship between the Empire and the Sea Clan Alliance, violated the Empire's highest strategic decisions, and arbitrarily mobilized the Empire's elite naval forces and royal tributes.

They brazenly besieged Claire, the Mermaid Queen, and her tribe, a key member of our friendly ally, the Great Alliance of the Sea Clan.

The emperor's voice was steady, but each word was like a block of ice hitting the smooth floor of the hall.

The very title given to Greg—"former Prince of Canglan"—already reveals a great deal.

"Such actions have extremely serious consequences and extremely negative impacts."

Firstly, it caused the Imperial Navy to suffer unprecedented heavy losses since its establishment, with many loyal and brave soldiers losing their lives, and the sinking of the Imperial Navy's main warships, which the Empire had spent a huge amount of money to build, tarnishing the Imperial Navy's reputation.

Secondly, it severely damaged the foundation of mutual trust built up over generations between the Empire and the Sea Clan Alliance, plunging bilateral relations into an unprecedented crisis and causing a major blow to the Empire's strategic layout and trade interests in the Endless Sea.

Thirdly, it exposes the chaos in the empire's high-level decision-making and the loopholes in its internal management, damaging the empire's national character and undermining the confidence of its allies in it.

The emperor paused briefly, his grey-blue eyes sweeping over the assembled officials with their varied expressions, finally settling on Greg's bloodless face, before he continued indifferently:
"In order to uphold the law, maintain national prestige, and prevent future transgressions, the following final ruling is hereby made—"

First, Gregor Alvis is stripped of his status as heir to the throne. Effective immediately, he no longer enjoys any power, privileges, or title as crown prince.

Although it was expected, when the emperor uttered those words clearly, a faint yet undeniable gasp still filled the hall.

This means that Gregor's path to the highest throne has been completely and openly blocked.

The foundation of his political life was severed.

"Second, strip him of his title of 'Prince of Canglan' and all his attached fiefdoms, privileges and annuities."

He will retain only the title of 'Crown Prince' as a member of the royal family, but this is merely a nominal position; he will not be involved in state affairs and is not allowed to leave the capital without an imperial edict! (End of Chapter)