Re: In My Bloody Hit Novel - Chapter 732

Capítulo 732: Silmarien’s Coronation.

The Regent’s voice cut through the chamber like a blade.

“Prince Aetherion,” he declared coldly, “you are hereby placed under arrest for conspiracy, treason, and attempted regicide. Your personal guard as well.”

For a heartbeat, Aetherion froze.

Then he lunged forward, desperation cracking through his pride. “Regent… listen to me. This is a lie. A fabrication. You know me. I have defended this land with my blood—”

His pleas echoed uselessly.

When the Regent’s expression did not soften, something in Aetherion snapped.

He laughed—sharp, broken, venomous.

“You little rat,” he snarled, twisting toward Silmarien. “You think a crown will save you? I swear upon the roots of the Mother Tree—I will bring death to you. To the elders. To every single one of you who dares stand here and watch this farce.”

Before another word could leave his mouth, the walls responded.

Living branches burst from the chamber’s roots, coiling around Aetherion’s arms and torso like serpents. They glowed with an eerie pale-green radiance, ancient runes pulsing along their bark.

Chiron watched closely.

He immediately recognized it. These were binding wood, grown from the Mother Tree itself.

A suppression construct. The moment it touched Aetherion’s skin, his elemental aura flickered violently… then vanished.

. No more element energy. No resistance.

He would definitely be taking a huge chunk of that.

But that was plan for a much later time.

Aetherion screamed once as the branches tightened, then was dragged away alongside his guards, their protests swallowed by the corridors.

Silence followed.

The Regent exhaled slowly.

Then his gaze shifted.

It landed on the only himan in the room, Chiron.

There was no attempt to hide it.

It was disgust, disdain, and deeply ingrained racial contempt burned openly in the Regent’s eyes. To him, Chiron was still an outsider. Worse—tainted. A being beneath elven purity.

His lips parted.

He was about to speak.

Before he could, Silmarien stepped forward and placed himself directly between them.

“I believe,” Silmarien said calmly, “that as the one who won the wager with my brother, and as the only party here not accused of criminal treason, a coronation is in order.”

The words settled heavily in the chamber.

The Regent stared at him.

For a moment, it looked as though he would refuse.

But he definitely would not do such a thing.

Why?

The reason was simple. Elves were a very very proud fully race of beings. Once they gave their word, they would following to the end of the world, even if it were at the cost of their lives.

Also, this wager had happened in front of the people with the throne as the prize.

The Regent’s shoulders sagged—just slightly.

Defeat flickered in his eyes.

Slowly, deliberately, the Regent lowered himself to one knee.

“By the will of the Mother Tree,” he said, voice steady but strained, “and by the authority entrusted to me by the late God-King… I recognize Prince Silmarien as the rightful King of the Elves.”

A ripple of shock ran through the chamber.

One by one, the elders followed suit, robes brushing the floor as they knelt. Guards lowered their weapons and bent their heads.

Chiron also went down on one knee.

Unlike the others, his expression held a faint, knowing smirk.

—

The next day, the elven capital awoke to a celebration unlike any seen since before the war.

Banners of living silk unfurled from the trees, glowing with soft gold and emerald light. The air was filled with chiming bells grown from crystal leaves, their tones harmonizing with the pulse of the Mother Tree itself.

Elves poured in from every direction.

From forest cities. From underground groves. From distant enclaves beyond the capital.

They came dressed in ceremonial attire—robes woven from moonthread, armor polished to mirror sheen, crowns of leaves and gemstones resting upon their brows. Children danced among floating petals. Elders leaned on carved staves, whispering prayers of continuity and renewal.

At the heart of it all stood the Great Mother Tree.

Beneath its vast canopy, a circular platform of living wood had grown overnight, its surface etched with the history of elven kings.

Silmarien stepped forward.

He still had that simple expression, glasses sitting on his nose bridge like an innocent scholar.

He wore robes of deep forest green trimmed with silver glyphs, light enough to flutter yet heavy with authority. A sash of pure white bark wrapped around his waist, the mark of royal lineage.

Right now, as the only living member of the royal family, only him could wear it.

The Regent approached him, carrying the Crown of Roots—a living circlet that gently twisted and reshaped itself as it neared its bearer.

Before thousands of watching eyes, the Regent raised it high.

“By root and branch,” he proclaimed, “by memory and blood, I crown you, Silmarien of the First Line, King of the Elves.”

The crown settled onto Silmarien’s head.

The Mother Tree responded.

A deep, ancient hum resonated through the land as golden light cascaded downward, bathing the new king in radiance. Leaves spiraled through the air. The earth itself seemed to breathe.

The crowd fell to their knees as one.

King Silmarien stood beneath the Mother Tree.

He was calm, composed, victorious.

And somewhere within the shadows of the roots, Chiron watched, smiling faintly.

Everything was unfolding exactly as planned.

After all, this was not the end. For him to totally get Silmarien’s loyalty, he must let Silmarien get his dream.

And his dream was to kill every elf in existence.

Yes. These people did not know that they just crowned the one person that hated their entire race the most.

But this was not Chiron’s concern. He had his own reason for coming here.

Even now, he could feel it.

The true Guardian totem. The totem of the sin of pride was here.

A hand on the Mother Tree and he could feel it pulse with the power.

However, it was not yet time to take it.

Meanwhile, the Regent looked below, a certain gaze in his eyes when he looked at Chiron.