Reincarnated With Three Unique Skills

"Father, your trusted Executioners have failed the task," Myria announced coldly, her voice devoid of emotion, though her aura radiated a deathly intent.

"I told you, you should have sent me for the task, Father," she added, her icy gaze fixed on Emperor Vansing.

"Failed, but how? Did the oposite faction intervened?"

"Yes."

The Emperor frowned deeply, seated upon the grand throne of the Imperial Court. The hall, vast and majestic, was filled with members of the ruling faction, all present to discuss matters of state.

Myria's announcement sent a ripple of unease through the court. Some looked confused, while others appeared visibly displeased.

"Princess Myria, do you mean to say the Executioners have failed in their mission to eliminate the chosen one?" a voice queried cautiously, breaking the tense silence.

Myria remained silent, her sharp eyes scanning the room as if daring anyone to challenge her words. Her refusal to respond was a clear indication that she would not repeat herself.

Her silence was taken as confirmation. Whispers and murmurs began to fill the court gathering.

"That must mean the opposition faction is already on its way here. What should we do?" one court member asked nervously, breaking the heavy silence.

"What else? We kill them, of course!" Another responded sharply, his tone filled with frustration.

"But that would mean breaking the Sacred Rule of this Empire!" another interjected, his voice filled with concern. "Killing the True Heir would be blasphemy against Kievan's beliefs. The citizens would never accept it. It could trigger a unified rebellion against us!"

"Not only that the five Ancient Protectors are with him. They would definitely defend if he's the True Emperor."

"Shut up!"

Emperor Vansing shouted as he clenched his fists in frustration, his face contorted in anger. As much as he despised hearing it, they were right.

The subjects of Kievan held deep-rooted respect and worship for the Emperor's Mark. It was a symbol of divine authority, passed down from the Empire's golden age. For three centuries, since the death and disappearance of Emperor Dimitri, the mark had been absent.

When the news of Emperor Dimitri's demise broke, it shattered the hearts of the people. The figure of their faith, the foundation of their belief in the Empire's glory, was gone. Out of respect for Dimitri's lineage, they reluctantly accepted Vansing's rule, even though it was not sanctioned by the sacred mark.

However, Vansing's reign was a series of disappointments. His inability to lead the Empire to victory, discover new worlds, or resist the encroaching domination of rival empires left the citizens disillusioned.

Now, with the return of the Emperor's Mark, the people were electrified with hope. The True Emperor's arrival had sparked celebrations and festivals across thousands of worlds. They saw this as the dawn of a new era—a chance to reclaim their former glory under a rightful and powerful leader.

The Imperial Court buzzed with tension. They were caught in a precarious position. Any move against the True Heir would likely lead to chaos, rebellion, and the collapse of their fragile hold on the Empire. Yet, allowing the opposition faction to succeed could spell the end of Vansing's rule.

Emperor Vansing's expression darkened as he sat silently, brooding over the dilemma.

"Father, send me. I can still take care of him," Myria proposed without changing her expression.

Vansing sighed and shook his head.

"No, Myria. The five Ancient protectors are with him now. You can't do anything to him, even with that Law of yours."

Myria clenched her fists, feeling useless. All that hard work for nothing.

What's the point of working so hard if she can't even help her own father?

Step... Step... Step!

Suddenly, faint footsteps echoed, drawing everyone's attention to the entrance.

A beautiful, elegantly aged woman walked into the courtroom with grace. Each step struck the hearts of those present, filling them with an inexplicable sense of dread. She was followed by a few men dressed in Ancient attire like robes.

The woman had striking amethyst hair, long and streaked with gray, hinting at her old age, though her appearance remained youthful and radiant.

The five men behind her shared a similar presence, aged yet exuding vitality, their expressions solemn and commanding.

The woman was none other than Empress Fiona, a legendary figure still alive after centuries.

"Empress Fiona! It's her!"

"I can't believe I got the chance to see her today."

"Indeed, she is still fierce and powerful, even after retiring."

She stood tall, her aura commanding respect, as she faced Emperor Vansing directly.

"Mother, you're here... Do you have any advice for me?" Vansing muttered, slightly ashamed, feeling a deep sense of inferiority before her invisible authority.

Empress Fiona's amethyst eyes glimmered coldly as she looked at him. "Advice? Son Van, I am here because of your failure."

Her words carried the weight of centuries of wisdom, piercing through the room and silencing everyone present. Even the proudest nobles lowered their heads, not daring to meet her gaze.

"You let the Empire falter under your rule..

" She paused before continuing, "The citizens lost faith, the Empire's enemies grow bolder, and now the True Heir has appeared to reclaim the throne."

"But, Mother, I—" Vansing began, his words incoherent under her sharp glare.

"Do not interrupt me," Fiona said curtly. "The Heir bears the Emperor's Mark, and the citizens are already rallying to his side. Do you think you can stop the tide with mere assassins? Foolishness!"

The court became deathly silent as Empress Fiona's words echoed in their ears.

"Then, what should we do, Mother?" Emperor Vansing asked, his voice carrying both curiosity and desperation.

"A competition," Empress Fiona said calmly, her tone unwavering.

"A competition? Of what?"

Empress Fiona explained, "There will be a competition between you and the Heir to determine who is the worthy Emperor. Let the Empire and its people witness the truth for themselves."

Emperor Vansing frowned, his doubt evident. "But would they agree? They are not so foolish, are they?"

With a sharp, dismissive huff, Fiona responded, "Hmph. If he's the real Heir, then they will have no choice but to agree. They want the throne, don't they? This way, we force our conditions upon them. Their pride will not let them refuse."

Her words carried an edge of finality, but Myria, standing silently, felt unease settling deep in her chest.

Myria's brows knitted together, conflicted. Why was Grandmother, usually so kind, suddenly acting so vicious?

She wanted to eliminate the so called Heir too, but this level of betrayal and treachery didn't sit well with her. Myria believed in honor, in fair battles where determination and strength decided the victor.

Her thoughts drifted as she wondered what could have changed her grandmother so drastically. Had something occurred between Grandmother and Grandfather that she wasn't aware of?

"Alright, Mother. That's a great plan. We will do as you say."