Terra Nova Online: Rise of The Strongest Player - Chapter 476: Panic

Chapter 476: Panic

( A few moments ago, Nathan and Alaric )

“Sir Alaric… We’ve poisoned two chalices of wine, but how exactly are we going to ensure they reach Ben Faulkner and my father?” Nathan asked nervously as the Gala night commenced.

Being inexperienced, he couldn’t see a clear path to discreetly targeting just those two individuals and hence he sought out Alaric to understand the plan.

“My Prince, the solution is quite simple,” Alaric replied, his tone calm and confident. “The Emperor has a predictable habit when it comes to mending ties with those who don’t favor him—which is that he raises a toast in their honor.

Having served him for so many years, I know his patterns intimately and I can assure you that at some point tonight, he will raise a toast to Ben Faulkner. When that moment comes, we will ensure the poisoned chalices are delivered to both of them.” Alaric said, his voice carrying an unsettling certainty as he laid out the plan.

“I understand… So we wait,” Nathan responded, though his anxiety was evident. His forehead began to glisten with sweat as the weight of their conspiracy pressed on him.

“Yes, we wait,” Alaric confirmed. “But you need to relax, young prince. Your tension is palpable, and if you don’t loosen up, your unusual behavior will draw suspicion.” Alaric said, maintaining a pleasant smile as he nodded politely to a noble watching them from afar, expertly keeping up the appearance of normalcy even while plotting to murder the Emperor.

“Hahaha, I’ll take my leave then Chief Strategist–” Nathan said, taking his leave, as he tried his best to hold his nerves and appear normal.

Throughout the night many approached him, accrediting him with the suggestion to host the Master’s Tournament, as many nobles now began to view him as the next undisputed crown prince and tried to forge closer ties with him, however, Nathan was least interested in these conversations.

He tried his best to appear calm, however, the uncertainty of the night kept pressing on him, until the moment when he saw his father finally approach Ben Faulkner.

The gala was in full swing when his father began walking towards Ben, the air in the room filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and the murmur of conversation. Yet, amidst the grandiose festivities, all Nathan could think about was the plan he and Alaric had set in motion.

His nerves had been on edge all night, and now, the moment of truth was approaching.

As his father began speaking to Ben, Nathan’s pulse quickened. Sweat gathered under his collar and his hands became clammy despite the cool evening.

Every muscle in his body was tense, his mind repeating the plan over and over, as he tried to reassure himself that everything would go just as Alaric had predicted.

‘Just a toast… Just a simple toast…’ Nathan thought as his eyes darted nervously between the two men.

He knew his father well enough to recognize the signs—the slight tilt of his head, the way he smiled a bit too warmly at Ben. It was coming. The toast was coming.

And then, just as Alaric had predicted, his father clapped his hands, signaling for the server to bring the glasses.

Nathan’s breath hitched as he watched the two chalices being brought forward.

The server handed one to his father and the other to Ben, as the plan was almost complete at this point.

‘Drink it…. Drink it all–’ Nathan urged, his hands clenched into fists, with his knuckles turning white as he tried to keep his expression neutral.

“A toast—” his father’s voice rang out, loud and commanding, drawing the attention of the entire room.

Nathan’s heart hammered in his chest as he watched, almost in slow motion, as both men raised their glasses, with the crowd following, their glasses raised in unison.

Nathan held his breath as he saw his father and Ben bring the chalices to their lips. This was it. This was the moment. He could feel a cold satisfaction settle over him as he imagined the impending deaths, the taste of victory within his grasp.

But just as quickly, that satisfaction turned to ice. As the glasses were lowered, Nathan saw a change in Ben’s expression—a flicker of something in his eyes. Doubt? Suspicion? Nathan wasn’t sure, but it was enough to send a wave of dread crashing over him.

Ben’s movements were swift and decisive. Before Nathan could fully process what was happening, Ben jammed his fingers down his own throat, forcing himself to vomit as panic surged through Nathan as he realized what Ben was doing.

‘No… How? It’s supposed to be tasteless… odorless…’ Nathan’s thoughts raced, disbelief mingling with terror.

He had been assured that the poison was undetectable, that there was no way anyone could know they had been poisoned until it was too late. Yet here was Ben, somehow aware, somehow knowing.

Before Nathan could react, Ben had moved behind his father, forcing him to vomit as well as the scene unfolded before Nathan’s eyes like a nightmare—his father, the Emperor, vomiting in front of the entire room, Ben’s frantic actions raising alarms all around as the Virex Corps surrounded them.

Nathan felt the world tilt around him, a suffocating sense of dread taking hold as this wasn’t supposed to happen, and they weren’t supposed to know…

‘What happens now? Will they figure out it was me? Will Alaric throw me under the bus? Will I be executed brutally?’ Nathan wondered, as panic gripped him, tightening around his chest like a vise.

He had envisioned this night ending with a triumphant victory, with the deaths of his father and Ben Faulkner, who would be framed for the murder of his father.

But now… now everything was unraveling unexpectedly.

Nathan’s mind raced as he tried to grasp onto something, anything that could salvage the situation, but all he could think about was the one question that haunted him, which was ‘How did Ben know?’

The panic gnawed at him, leaving him paralyzed as the gala descended into chaos–