I AM A MAGE BUT WITH MILF SYSTEM

The king rose from his throne and stepped down the platform until he stood before Julian. “Don’t be modest,” he said, his tone softer now. He reached out, resting his hand on Julian’s shoulder, the gesture both fatherly and heavy with hidden meaning. “Stand.”

Julian obeyed, rising to his full height, his posture relaxed but respectful. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” he said, offering a faint smile.

Without giving anyone time to recover from the first shock, the king smiled and casually placed his hand on Julian’s back, guiding him up the steps of the platform.

Each step Julian took felt heavier, the weight of hundreds of eyes boring into his back. Whispers and gasps spread once again, louder and more uncontrolled this time.

When they reached the top, the king gestured towards the smaller, yet still lavishly decorated throne beside his own—the seat that had always remained empty during court sessions.

“Sit,” the king ordered casually, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Julian sat down without hesitation, legs crossed, back straight, his robe flowing elegantly around him as if he belonged there all along. His gaze swept across the nobles below, catching their widened eyes, tight lips, and shocked expressions.

Some of the dukes exchanged nervous glances. The queen’s smile was frozen, her eyes darkening ever so slightly. Hallie lowered her head, her nails digging into her palm.

Another wave of shock had spread over the court—sitting beside the king was not a simple gesture; it was a declaration to the entire kingdom. Julian Easvil wasn’t just a duke anymore. He was being placed at the level of a prince, a potential heir, a power no one in the room could ignore.

And Julian… sat there calmly, his lips curling into a dangerous smile.

His eyes lazily scanned the seats where the other dukes sat, each one wearing a carefully crafted expression. His gaze first stopped on the Duke of Hans — the man was barely able to contain the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

If he weren’t in the presence of the king, Julian was certain the man would’ve jumped from his seat, clapping and shouting, “My investment finally paid off!”

After all, he was one of the few who had supported Julian early on, and now that support was bearing fruit beyond expectations.

Next, Julian’s gaze shifted to the Duke of Ethwer. But he didn’t stop. He merely glanced past him without even acknowledging his existence, making it clear to everyone in the hall — the Duke of Ethwer didn’t exist in his eyes.

The man’s face was stiff, eyes dark with humiliation and suppressed rage. It was no secret to anyone that their relationship had soured beyond repair.

Finally, Julian’s gaze landed on the Duke of Norish. As always, that man sat quietly, showing no emotion. Neither happy nor displeased — just neutral, like an observer waiting to see which side would benefit him the most.

Julian leaned back slightly in his seat, crossing one leg over the other. He could feel the tension and emotions boiling beneath the dignified masks these old men wore — and it amused him greatly.

The king’s eyes swept over the gathered court once more. He addressed the room with a commanding tone.

“Today marks the day of the sixth annual Dukes’ Meeting. Let us begin with each of you presenting your issues and concerns. Speak freely, for this is the time to do so. Any matters that need addressing”?

His voice boomed across the room, echoing in the vast, imposing hall. He glanced at the three dukes seated before him, each of them now under his sharp gaze.

The tension in the room grew thick as everyone waited for someone to speak. The silence continued, only broken by the faint sound of shuffling from the nobles in their seats.

For a long moment, no one dared to break the silence, each duke contemplating the best way to present their issues.

And finally, it was the Duke of Ethwer who broke the silence. His posture was still stiff, but he stood nonetheless.

“Greetings, Your Majesty,” he began, his voice formal, though laced with a bitterness that only those who knew him could detect. “I have some matters that require your attention.”

He cleared his throat, making sure all eyes were on him before continuing.

The King nodded slowly, gesturing for the Duke of Ethwer to continue.

“Go on, Ethwer,” the King said, his tone calm but commanding.

The Duke of Ethwer bowed deeply before continuing, his words carefully chosen and crafted.

“Your Majesty,” he began, “we are all citizens of the great kingdom of Ares. Although I may hail from the Duchy of Ethwer and others from their own respective estates, at the end of the day, we are united under one banner as subjects of the royal crown.” He paused, allowing the crowd to digest his words.

There was a ripple of murmurs and nods of agreement from the gathered nobles, their eyes fixed on the Duke, some of them glancing at one another silently.

The Duke smirked ever so slightly at the approval. It was a small but deliberate move to gather support, and the room had taken the bait.

He cleared his throat before continuing, his voice growing more pointed.

“However,” the Duke went on, his gaze now shifting toward Julian, “the Duke of Easvil, our esteemed host, has introduced changes that threaten the unity of our kingdom. He has made it known that he wishes for separation, not unification, between the duchies. We might have had some conflicts in the past, yes, but those have always been settled with a sense of diplomacy. Yet now, Duke Easvil has gone so far as to stop trade and transport with our duchy.”

Ethwer’s words filled the air like a challenge, his eyes narrowing slightly as he continued. “This action, Your Majesty, is not simply a matter of a private dispute; it is an act of threatening the peace. It seems as though the Duke of Easvil is working not for the betterment of the kingdom, but rather to create divisions that could threaten our unity. Such actions cannot be allowed to stand if we are to remain one kingdom, one Ares.”