Chapter 742

Pamela’s crimson lips parted, her voice carrying a unique magnetic quality: “Archbishop Derek speaks wisely. A dragon without a head is indeed a grave danger. Yet the choice of interim Pope must be carefully considered—it must be someone capable of uniting all factions and commanding respect, worthy of this heavy burden.”

Her words sounded neutral, yet implied Derek was not the only candidate; she herself wielded strong support, and several bishops and a female Grand Holy Knight beside her nodded in agreement.

On the other side of the round table, an elderly man with white hair and beard, his face benevolent yet eyes profound—Cardinal Augustine—slowly shook his head.

He was an elder of the Papacy, with unparalleled seniority.

His hands rested folded before him, his tone slow yet carrying undeniable weight: “Interim Pope? Easy to say. His Holiness is merely missing, not fallen. Hastily electing an interim Pope—what if His Holiness returns one day? How will we salvage the situation?”

“At that time, if the Papacy fractures, who will bear the blame? This old man believes the most urgent task now is to mobilize all the power of the Papacy to find His Holiness’s whereabouts—alive, we must see him; dead, we must see his body!”

“Until then, everything must remain as is. Let us, the several Cardinals, jointly deliberate on major matters—that is the safest path.”

His supporters, mostly older, conservative bishops and ascetic monks, nodded in agreement.

Derek retorted without restraint: “Maintain the status quo? Cardinal Augustine, you’re being archaic! Joint deliberation? Inefficient, full of endless bickering—how will we respond to looming crises?”

Pamela interjected coolly: “Archbishop Derek, you’re too eager. Could it be you already believe yourself the indisputable choice for interim Pope?”

“Pamela, you—!”

“Enough! This is a sacred council chamber, not a marketplace!”

Above the round table, shouts, rebuttals, and pleas intertwined—the once-sacred and unified Council of the Round Table now brimmed with the restless energy of power struggles and irreconcilable conflict.

The vacant Papal throne, like a vast vortex, drew in every ambition and scheme.

Among these quarreling cardinals and holy knights, Charles, Emperor of Everday, had long planted several key spies.

Their mission was not to ensure any one side’s victory, but to subtly stoke the flames, intensify divisions, ensuring the Papacy’s chaos endured, preventing any unified voice—and even hoping the Papacy would weaken itself through internal strife.

Only then could imperial authority better suppress ecclesiastical power, allowing Charles’s plans to proceed smoothly.

Meanwhile, deep within the Everday Imperial Palace, Charles’s private chambers reeked of suppressed blood and medicine.

“Cough—pfft.” Charles suddenly convulsed in violent coughing, spitting out another small clot of dark red blood, his face as pale as paper, his breath far weaker than usual.

He leaned against a luxurious brocade couch, bandages wrapped around his chest faintly stained with blood.

“Your Majesty!” The trusted eunuch standing nearby turned pale with terror, rushing forward to wipe the blood with a silk handkerchief, then lowering his voice to urgently command the trusted Captain of the Guard beside him: “Quick! Send for the Imperial Physician again! Remember—use the secret passage. No one must learn of the Emperor’s relapse!”

The Captain of the Guard bowed and vanished like a ghost behind the screen.

Charles’s severe injuries were not, as the outside world speculated, the work of the Papacy—the Papacy would never do such a thing, not now.

They were the result of a sudden, shocking betrayal and assassination from within the imperial family!

The attacker was none other than his own blood brother, Prince Chet.

Like Li Chen, Charles had a habit of traveling incognito, often visiting secret locations to meet his undercover agents and learn the true state of the empire.

Yet his cultivation level was nowhere near Li Chen’s unfathomable depth, far from capable of ignoring most threats.

During a secret outing several days ago, he fell victim to a meticulously planned ambush.