Damn, I Have to Marry the Strongest Antagonist at the Start? - Chapter 574

Chapter 574: Chapter24-Helpless!
A suffocating tension lingered in the air of the grand imperial hall.

None of the assembled ministers dared to make a sound. Those who were standing stiffened like statues, while the kneeling nobles kept their heads lowered, their eyes furtively glancing between Empress Yevna and High Inquisitor Caes. The heavy silence was so oppressive that even breathing felt inappropriate.

Yevna had been aware that disaster had struck several regions of the empire, but she had not expected the situation to be so severe. A sense of dread crept into her heart—this didn’t feel like a mere coincidence. She could almost sense an invisible hand manipulating events from the shadows.

“The High Inquisitor speaks the truth?” Yevna asked, her voice calm but sharp as she turned toward the Imperial Prime Minister, Albert. Her gaze carried weight—a demand for honesty, but also for loyalty.

Albert sighed faintly and took a step forward. “Your Majesty, the report from High Inquisitor Caes is indeed accurate. I too have received intelligence from the various regional Magus Towers in recent days. The situation is… grave.”

He hesitated for a moment, a flicker of guilt crossing his features.

“However… I must confess—I only received the complete reports last night and had not yet had the opportunity to inform Your Majesty. I humbly beg your forgiveness for the delay.”

Yevna gave a slight nod, motioning for him to step back.

She took in a long, steadying breath, forcing herself to remain calm. Now was not the time for panic—any loss of composure might play directly into her enemies’ hands.

“When the first signs of disaster emerged, did I not personally approve a massive sum of relief funds?”

Her voice carried a chilling authority now as her eyes swept across the court, cold and unyielding.

“Where did all that money go? Why has the situation worsened rather than improved?”

A hush fell again over the court. Several ministers lowered their heads, trembling slightly.

Meanwhile, Caes allowed himself a faint smile of triumph. Without a word, he exchanged a brief glance with Balfur, the Minister of Finance.

Balfur immediately stepped forward, drawing a thick ledger from his enchanted pouch. He presented it to Yevna with a respectful bow.

“Your Majesty, this is the detailed record of the relief expenditures. Every single gold coin is accounted for. Please inspect it at your convenience.”

Yevna accepted the book but didn’t bother opening it. She already knew—if they dared present the ledger so boldly in court, it had certainly been meticulously forged. It would never reflect the actual truth.

“No need,” she said flatly, her tone dismissive. “Balfur, I have always trusted your administrative skills.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and her voice turned colder. “Given how serious the situation has become, we shall release another round of relief funds immediately. Stabilizing the empire and restoring the lives of our people must take priority.”

But Balfur’s expression darkened. He lowered his head slightly, and his voice trembled as he spoke:

“Your Majesty… the Treasury is completely depleted. The Kingdom Vault has been emptied. I fear we no longer have the means to provide further relief.”

A wave of shock swept through the chamber. Several ministers gasped audibly. The murmuring began almost at once.

Yevna’s face darkened as well. Her chest tightened.

At last, the pieces clicked into place.

This was Thunder Knight Commander Yelude’s scheme.

He had sent people to investigate the disaster zones, orchestrated Caes to raise the issue in court, and then used the excuse of an empty treasury to back her into a corner.

As Empress, she could not even provide for her people during a crisis—how could she justify her rule?

Worse still, the public outrage this would generate would strike directly at the legitimacy of her throne.

If Yelude were to secretly fan the flames of dissent, the consequences would be catastrophic.

Without the people’s faith and support, her Imperial Guardian Power—a mystical force tied directly to the will of the people—would weaken drastically.

In that instant, Yevna saw the full scope of the threat.

“Your Majesty,” said a voice dripping with concern, “if we fail to respond swiftly, the worsening crisis may trigger full-scale riots.”

Yelude stepped forward, his expression the picture of worry, but his eyes gleamed with a dangerous ambition.

“In such a case, the empire may fall into chaos. The foundation of our rule could be shaken to the core, and Your Majesty may find yourself branded as a tyrant by history.”

He paused, then added pointedly: “The throne has always been reserved for those with true virtue. I implore Your Majesty not to let down the expectations of the people—or the legacy of our ancestors.”

It was a veiled call for abdication.

Yelude had been vying with the Empress for years, and now he saw his moment.

Yevna burned with silent fury. But now was not the time to let emotion take the lead.

She inhaled deeply, forcing her anger beneath the surface.

“Commander Yelude,” she said, her voice sharp and regal, “are you teaching me how to govern an empire?”

“I will handle this disaster myself. You think that just because the Kingdom Vault is empty, I am left helpless?”

She stood, her cloak billowing as she swept toward the exit.

“Give me three days. I will deliver a solution. And then you will witness just what this Empress is capable of. Court dismissed!”

With that, she strode from the hall, leaving the ministers stunned and speechless.

Behind her, Yelude watched her retreating figure with a smug smile.

Yevna… let’s see what you’ll do now. Once you reach your limit, your throne will be mine.

Back in her private chamber, Yevna sat alone by the window, staring at the fading sky.

She was a woman who had claimed the imperial throne—a position long dominated by men. The resistance she had faced over the years had been relentless.

To maintain her grip on power, she had spent most of the empire’s stored wealth. Even her private vault was nearly exhausted. There was simply no way to raise the massive amount needed for relief efforts—not in time.

But she knew, this crisis was unlike any other. Failure to resolve it would not only end her reign—it might doom the entire empire.

Atop the Magus Tower, she met with her most loyal advisors.

“Your Majesty, Yelude’s scheme is as ruthless as it is cunning,” Eldritch said, his brow tightly furrowed. “We must devise a counter-strategy at once.”

“But with no funds left, how are we to provide relief?” said Grandmaster Roland. “This may be the most difficult problem we’ve faced.”

Roland gave Eldritch a polite nod, then turned to Yevna, speaking frankly.

“Your Majesty, forgive my bluntness. From the moment you ascended the throne, many nobles doubted your legitimacy as a female ruler.”

“These recent years, disaster has followed disaster. Public resentment is mounting, and some now question whether you are truly fit to rule.”

He looked her directly in the eye.

“Your Guardian Power has not grown stronger in the past two years. I believe you’ve noticed that as well.”

“If this crisis is mishandled, the empire you’ve worked so hard to build… may crumble. The consequences are too dire to imagine.”

Yevna sighed deeply and turned once more to Albert.

“Are the disaster zones really so severe?”

Albert nodded gravely. “I dared not say more in the presence of others… but I recently traveled to the affected regions myself. What I saw… was like a vision of hell. The people’s suffering—it still haunts me.”

“Your Majesty promised a solution within three days. Do you… have a plan?”

Yevna was silent for a long moment.

Then she spoke honestly.

“To relieve this crisis with real results would require a sea of resources—far beyond what we currently possess.”

“And don’t forget, rebuilding after the disaster will demand even more.”

“At present… with the power and assets I command…”

She paused, then said with sorrow:

“…I truly have no way out.”

The chamber fell into heavy silence.

Not even the wind dared disturb the stillness.

Was there truly… no way forward?