<strong>Chapter 382: Amazing!!</strong>


    Livestreamers were even louder:


    @SceneQueen: I’m crying. Crying in 4K. Who let this be so good??


    @CineCritique: This is Oscar tier. I’m not joking. I need a full movie adaptation.


    @WarriorFanatic: It wasn’t just a tribute. It was a soulid bare. That’s cinema.


    Director Naledi stepped back, his head high, his gift echoing louder than any drumroll. In his eyes, pride danced, quiet and smug. He knew exactly what he had done.


    And Somto?


    Still silent. Stillposed.


    But his jaw rxed slightly, his eyes resting on the screen even after it vanished.


    Not a word spoken.


    But somehow, everyone felt it:


    That gift had hit somewhere deep.


    The murmurs of awe had barely settled from the previous gift when the soft click of polished heels echoed across the ceremonial hall.


    A tall, statuesque figure with dramatic ir approached, her entrance as dazzling as her creations. It was none other than Dame Yalora, the continent’s most sought after fashion designer.


    With a trained smile and the poise of a queen in her own right, she bowed deeply before the new king. “Your Majesty, the world knows you as a warrior and now a ruler… but allow me to present a gift worthy of your presence outside the battlefield.” She lifted a luxurious velvet-covered box.


    The head steward stepped forward with practiced grace, receiving the gift with both hands and bowing before carrying it off to the royal gift chamber.


    Gasps and whispers swept through the hall.


    “Is that—? No way!”


    “She actually designed one just for him?”


    “That suit alone could pay for a small country’s defense budget.”


    “Her custom pieces are booked five years in advance!”


    On the livestream


    @StylistaQueen: “Yalora’s custom suit?? KING BE SERVING LOOKS AND POWER???”


    @FashionFiend456: “The cut, the cloth, THE MOMENT. That suit is probably woven from unicorn eyshes.”


    @LioraWatch: “He hasn’t even worn it yet and he’s already breaking the fashion ceiling.”


    @WarriorToKing: “Battlefield to ballroom. That’s our king!”


    Even a few of the foreign royals exchanged nces, impressed despite themselves. Dame Yalora took a graceful step back, clearly pleased with the ripple her gift caused.


    Somto gave a nod of acknowledgment, expression calm, but his eyes held a subtle gleam, whether from amusement, appreciation, or calction, none could say.


    One guest whispered to another, “That woman’s got guts… and timing. She’s just secured her ce in the pce fashion circle for life.”


    The ceremonial line continued to shift forward, but the designer’s presence lingered like a fragrance, elegant, bold, and impossible to ignore.


    After thevish storm of jewels, estates, tech, and tailored wonders, the crowd hardly noticed the quiet approach of a modest group.


    Their garments were clean but in, their shoes scuffed from travel. They were the vige elders and chosen spokespeople of themon folk, humble in appearance, yet brimming with a quiet dignity.


    The whispers began instantly.


    “Who are they…?”


    “Are they actually on the list?”


    “Vige wine? Bread?” A scoff. “We’re gifting kings, not hosting a pic.”


    Someone even chuckled behind a gloved hand, “Maybe they got lost on the way to the local market.”


    But Somto’s gaze sharpened slightly. He had seen those eyes before, in the trenches, in the fields, in his childhood. Tired, steady eyes that had endured. The kind of people who didn’tmand attention, but carried nations.


    The elder woman stepped forward first, holding a bottle of dark amber wine. Beside her, an old man with hands roughened by years ofbor carried a small basket covered in clean linen.


    With a small bow, the woman spoke. “Your Majesty, this is the first brew of the year, made with the harvest that grew strong under your reign as General. And this…” she gestured to the bread, “was baked by our best vige hands. We may not have riches, but we bring you our hearts and gratitude.”


    A pause fell. Not a pin dropped, because no one dared to move.


    The high ranking servant, without dy or hesitation, stepped forward and took the gift with the same reverence he gave the estate deed and billion dor gadget. He bowed before stepping aside to secure the offering.


    Somto didn’t just nod this time.


    He rose from his seat.


    The gasp that swept the room was nearly audible.


    With slow steps, he approached the elders himself and dipped his head ever so slightly. “I ept this gift with honor. May your wine be shared in the pce’s highest toast tonight.”


    The vigers’ eyes welled with tears. Even the old man’s weathered hands trembled as he whispered a stunned, “Thank you, Your Majesty.”


    On the livestream:


    @HeartOfLionara: “I’M CRYING. SOMTO STOOD UP FOR THE VILLAGERS??”


    @BreadAndBloodline: “This was the most powerful gift so far. Humble. Real.”


    @NotAllKings: “He honored the people. He remembered where he came from. That’s why he’s OUR king.”


    @FashionablySobbing: “Forget gold. This is what history remembers.”


    In the crowd, a few nobles shifted ufortably. For the first time, they realized it wasn’t just the richness of the gift, it was the meaning. And the king had just ced meaning above wealth.


    The moment settled into the grand hall like a warm ember, glowing quiet but powerful.


    Just as the echoes of the vigers’ gift settled, a sudden tremor of energy surged through the hall.


    It began with a faint hum.


    Then ping… ping… ping! The sounds multiplied rapidly.


    Everyone turned as holographic disys lit up like fireflies around the throne room, shimmering midair. Streams of golden sparkles flooded the digital ceiling, forming words in glimmering script.


    [500 Crown Drops from @QueenOfPixels]


    [1,000 Royal Fireworks from @EternalRich]


    [DIAMOND TRAIN sent by @TycoonStar—value: 120M crowns]


    [GOLDEN SCROLL MESSAGE: “Long live the Lionara King!” — sent by 3.2 million users]


    Even the nobles were speechless. The entire tform had exploded.


    A voice rang out from the stage’s enchanted speaker system, smooth and ceremonial, “A unified tribute from the global livestreamers, loyal citizens, supporters, and well wishers around the world. On this day, they offer their devotion.”


    A wave of virtual confetti rained gently across the audience. The “Diamond Train” effect rumbled across the floor as a phantom lotive of glimmering diamonds passed behind Somto’s throne, drawing gasps from the younger guests.


    “Wait, is that a hologram or real magic?” someone whispered, unsure.


    “Did someone just drop a billion crowns?!” a stunned livestream guest shrieked online.


    @CastleChaser: “THEY SENT HIM A VIRTUAL CASTLE?? Is this a coronation or a fantasy MMO?”


    @CrownJunkie: “My jaw’s on the floor. I can’t even afford one Crown Drop.”


    @GlobalKnightz: “This is insane. People from over 200 regions tuned in. King Somto just went from legendary to god tier.”


    A high ranking steward, wearing ceremonial gloves and a royal sash embedded with tracking crystals, stepped forward.


    His expression was unreadable, but the way he carefully moved to “receive” the digital scroll, reaching into a projection to formally store the offering into the pce archive, said enough.


    The room held a kind of stunned admiration.


    Even some of the more skeptical dignitaries leaned in. “This is not just poprity. It’s global loyalty,” one murmured, clearly impressed.


    Somto’s face didn’t change much. But his nod held a weight that even the shiest lightshow couldn’t outshine.


    The stream continued to pour in virtual roses, diamonds, poetry pieces, and more.


    Even the ones who weren’t fans couldn’t deny the truth anymore.


    The world wasn’t just watching.


    It was invested.


    As the final guest stepped back with a satisfied smile, a hush swept through the throne room. The glittering air still shimmered with the remnants of digital confetti, but all eyes now turned toward the royal family section.


    Queen Chioma rose with grace from her seat. Now Empress Dowager, she walked forward with the slow, deliberate poise of a woman who had worn power like a second skin.


    Her emerald and gold robes trailed behind her like river water, silken and luminous under the hall’s ethereal lights.


    Though she was his mother, as she reached the base of the dais, she lowered herself into a formal bow, not deep, but firm. Her head dipped in reverence, her arm elegantly extended across her chest.


    “Your Majesty,” she said, her voice warm yetposed, “Today, I bow to the king you have be.”


    Gasps rippled through the guests.


    “The Empress Dowager is bowing?”


    “This is huge. She must truly recognize his reign.”


    The livestream chat lit up instantly


    @LionaraRoyalWatcher: Did the Queen just BOW?! I’m not crying, YOU’RE crying.


    @MamaMonarch: That’s how you raise a king. Chioma is ICONIC.


    @HistoryFanatic: You don’t understand. This is cultural gold. It means she surrenders all political power.


    Then came the gift.


    Queen Chioma gestured and a gloved attendant brought forth a long velvet box, encrusted with small phoenix stones, the emblem of their bloodline.


    She opened it with ceremony.


    Insidey a sword.


    But not just any de, this was The me of Isaro, a legendary family heirloom passed down through generations, said to havest been wielded in the founding days of the empire.