Path To Godhood Begins With Marrying Wife And Gaining SSS Rank Skill

Accompanying the King was none other than Duke Monopolis.

If the King’s appearance only caused mild surprise, the moment Duke Monopolis stepped into the banquet hall, the entire atmosphere changed.

It was not loud. It was not dramatic.

It was heavy.

The laughter that had filled the hall only moments ago softened, then slowly died down. Conversations lost their rhythm. Even the royal orchestra seemed to hesitate, their notes turning careful and restrained.

Everyone looked at Duke Monopolis.

In Ruthiana, his name was not merely famous. It was a legend carved into history. Even children who had never seen the battlefield grew up hearing tales of the Monopolis family. A lineage that produced monsters. Guardians who stood firm when kingdoms trembled. People who did not bow easily, and when they did, it meant something terrible was coming.

Many nobles straightened their posture unconsciously. Some swallowed hard. A few avoided eye contact entirely.

However amidst this there was a gaze that wasn’t filled with reverence rather defiance flashed in it.

As Ethan stared at Duke Monopolis, the man who commanded such silent fear was also looking at him.

Their eyes met.

For a brief moment, the world between them felt strangely narrow. No words were spoken, yet countless thoughts seemed to collide.

Curiosity.

Evaluation.

Wariness.

A quiet acknowledgment that neither was ordinary.

Ethan did not avert his gaze.

Duke Monopolis’ eyes narrowed just a fraction, not in hostility, but in interest.

Claira felt it instantly.

Her fingers tightened around Ethan’s arm, and he could feel the faint tremble beneath her touch. Her palm was damp with sweat. Ethan glanced down and gently covered her hand with his own, his thumb brushing reassuringly over her wrist.

16:33

“It’s fine,” he whispered softly.

Her fingers tightened around Ethan’s arm, and he could feel the faint tremble beneath her touch. Her palm was damp with sweat. Ethan glanced down and gently covered her hand with his own, his thumb brushing reassuringly over her wrist.

“It’s fine,” he whispered softly.

She nodded, though her eyes never left Duke Monopolis. There was something about the man that made her chest feel tight, as if standing too close to a storm.

“Hahaha!”

The King’s loud laughter suddenly burst through the tension like a blunt hammer.

“It’s good to see everyone enjoying themselves!” King Mark shouted, spreading his arms wide as if embracing the entire hall.

“What a hearty scene! Today we are going to enjoy!” he continued, his voice overflowing with exaggerated joy.

The King walked forward, followed closely by attendants and several princes. Duke Monopolis followed at a measured pace, his expression calm, his steps unhurried.

They ascended to the elevated royal seats at the front of the hall.

“Greetings, Your Majesty!”

Everyone bowed deeply.

King Mark waved his hand lazily, his smile wide and self-satisfied. He leaned forward slightly, resting both hands on his scepter, and began his opening speech.

“Welcome, everyone, to the royal palace, to participate in this royal celebration banquet,” he announced proudly.

“For the past few years, we had it rough. Very rough,” he said, nodding to himself as if recalling great hardship.

“Some people said we couldn’t make it. They doubted us.”

“But look now,” he continued, sweeping his gaze across the hall. “It’s over. Completely over.”

“Everything is peaceful now. Very peaceful.”

“We are going to have so much fun today. Believe me.”

“Our Ruthiana is going to rise,” he declared, his voice growing louder.

“No one can stop it. Nobody.”

“People will tremble when they hear our name,” he said, jabbing a finger into the air. “They already are.”

“We have strong people to crush the opposing forces brutally.”

The King kept talking.

And talking.

Minutes stretched into an uncomfortable eternity.

Nobles maintained polite smiles while their patience wore thin. Some shifted their weight subtly. Others took slow sips of wine just to give their hands something to do. A few stared at the floor, their thoughts drifting far away.

At that moment, the entire hall shared a single, desperate wish.

Stop it.

Just stop it.

If punishment was coming, let it come quickly. This was worse.

Finally, after nearly half an hour, the King laughed loudly and waved his hand as if concluding a great performance.

The royal banquet officially began.

The royal orchestra resumed playing, filling the hall with soft and elegant music. Noble ladies appeared one after another, their gowns shimmering beneath crystal lights. The air filled with perfume, laughter, and the clinking of glasses.

Servants moved gracefully, offering rare wines and carefully prepared dishes. Nobles gathered in small groups, exchanging compliments and calculated smiles.

As time passed, the tension eased slightly. The banquet reached its peak. Conversations grew livelier. Even the King seemed relaxed as he mingled with high-ranking nobles.

Then suddenly.

“Father, don’t you think it’s time to appoint?”

The voice cut through the hall like a blade.

The music stopped.

Laughter vanished.

Even breathing seemed too loud.

All eyes turned toward the speaker.

Duke Phillips leaned slightly toward Ethan, his lips curling into a knowing smile.

“Here comes the main thing,” he murmured.

“This is the real reason I came to watch the family drama.It’s especially entertaining when you aren’t involved.”

Ethan glanced at his father-in-law and barely restrained a smirk.

‘I didn’t know he was such a melon seed lover,’ Ethan thought.

The speaker stepped forward.

” Albert.”

“Yes, Father,” Albert said calmly, though his eyes were sharp. “I think it is time to appoint the Crown Prince.”

“With everyone present, let us settle it today.”

King Mark’s smile vanished.

“You—” he started, his face darkening, anger flashing through his old eyes.

Before he could finish, another voice slammed into the hall.

“My dear brothers are correct about the appointment,” the voice said, loud and clear, shaking the air itself, “but they are wrong about one thing.”

Everyone froze.

The voice did not come from inside the hall.

Heads turned sharply toward the entrance.

A man walked in slowly, his steps measured, his smile confident yet unsettling. That smile stirred something unpleasant in the hearts of those who recognized him.

“His Highness Calvin…”

The First Prince.

The prince who had vanished from the political stage. The one rumored to have been exiled, discarded, forgotten.

He walked forward under everyone’s gaze, his eyes sweeping across the hall as if taking stock of everything that belonged to him.

“Where are we wrong, Big Brother?” Prince Karl asked cautiously.

Calvin stopped and smiled warmly, though his eyes remained cold and calculating.

“We do not need to appoint a Crown Prince,” he said clearly, his voice echoing through the hall.

“We need to appoint a King today.”

A sharp intake of breath spread across the banquet hall.

Some nobles lost their grip on their cups.

“Are you joking?” someone whispered in disbelief.

Calvin chuckled softly.

“Of course not,” he replied.

“We cannot delay any longer.”

“Let us appoint the King. Right now.”