Chapter 490 --490
The System scoffed, casually licking its glowing paw. ’[Host, please. With the amount of stress you put yourself through, my senior management at the Agency would have a heart attack long before you ever do.]’
Heena rolled her eyes, aggressively chewing on her beef jerky. "Listen. I am not in the mood to squabble with a hologram. What did you just ask?"
’[Well,]’ the System tilted its head. ’[If my data banks are not malfunctioning, your current family surname is something esle. It is not Vanguard. So why is everyone in the streets screaming ’Vanguard’?]’
Heena just stared at the lion like it was the stupidest creature in the multiverse. "You have been in this world with me for this long... and you are only just now asking this?"
’[Well, I wasn’t really focused on it before,]’ the System defended itself.
"Then why ask now?"
The System simply shrugged its digital shoulders. ’[Because I am bored and currently free. Now I want to know.]’
Heena closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. "You know, sometimes I really think you are becoming way too rude for your own good."
The System instantly snapped its mouth shut. It vividly remembered the last time Heena had used that exact tone of voice. They had been in the mental training space, and she had literally beaten its digital avatar until its holographic fur was singed. Even as an AI, the phantom pain was terrifying. The lion immediately adjusted its posture and forced a massive, incredibly polite smile.
’[Dearest Host,]’ the System asked sweetly. ’[Could you kindly explain why the commoners call your family the Vanguard?]’
Heena looked at its sudden 180-degree personality change with utter disgust. "Speak normally, you creep."
She swallowed her food and looked back out the window at the cheering crowds. "They call us the Vanguard because it is a military title. A vanguard is the foremost part of an advancing army. It means we are the shield. We are the frontline fighters, the guards, the people who take the first hit to protect the empire behind us."
The System frowned. ’[Don’t you even know a clearer, dictionary definition for it?]’
Heena leveled a terrifying glare at the lion. "Listen to me. I do not know every single language in the universe, much less the exact historical linguistics of this specific world. I have not studied the entire globe just to act as your personal dictionary. You get the general point, now shut up and let me eat my spicy candy."
While casually chewing on a piece of spicy jerky and watching the crowds pass by, a sudden, horrifying realization struck Heena like a physical blow. The jolt of panic instantly snapped her out of her relaxed, snacking daze.
’Wait.’
She was going to die. The brain tumor was a fatal certainty; she only had a year or two left at most. But if she died without securing a successor, who was going to take over as the head of the Marcuset family?
Her expression instantly turned dead serious. She absolutely could not just drop dead without making preparations. The Imperial Family was a den of venomous snakes, and she did not trust them for a single second. If the Marcuset Vanguard lineage ended with her, the consequences would be catastrophic.
She quickly ran through her options.
Her scumbag of a biological father was completely out of the question. She actively despised the man and was already finalizing the plans to permanently exile him to a remote monastery. Permitting him to return and sire another child to take over the family was a massive risk—if that hypothetical child inherited his cowardly, pathetic genes, the Vanguard would be doomed anyway.
What about her grandparents? She briefly entertained the ridiculous thought of asking her elderly grandparents to try for a new child, but immediately scrapped it. If she even suggested such a thing, her grandmother would literally skin her alive and mount her head on the estate walls.
That left a terrifying political vacuum. If she died without an heir, the massive wealth of the family might remain, but the commanding military title of ’Marquis Vanguard’ would automatically revert back to the Crown. The Emperor would then have the absolute authority to appoint a new Vanguard.
The mere thought of the Emperor handing her family’s proud, blood-forged title to one of his corrupt, bootlicking political dogs felt like a massive insult. She would rather burn the capital to the ground than let that happen.
She needed to find a viable heir. Fast.
If she remembered correctly, her grandfather’s siblings had all passed away years ago, leaving no eligible descendants on the Marcuset side. But her grandmother’s maternal family? They were a different story. They were a prominent, sprawling household. There had to be some sharp, capable cousins hiding in the branches of that family tree. She decided she would need to pay her grandmother’s maternal house a visit very soon to scout for an heir she could adopt and train.
If none of those cousins met her ruthless expectations, she would have to look elsewhere.
For a fraction of a second, a highly dangerous, intrusive thought crossed her mind.
’Samuel isn’t a bad candidate. He has excellent genetics, intelligence, and ruthlessness. Should I just... have a child with him?’
’Smack.’
Heena literally slapped her own cheek, the sharp sting echoing in the quiet carriage.
"What the heck is wrong with my brain?!" she muttered to herself, rubbing her face. "Definitely not. Absolutely not."
She did not have the time, the patience, or the physical health to endure a pregnancy. She desperately needed to find a ready-made cousin or an outside protégé to groom.
Before she could spiral any further into her succession crisis, the carriage began to slow down.
Through the small window, the towering, imposing stone gates of the Imperial Palace finally came into view. As the unmarked luxury carriage pulled up to the heavily fortified entrance, the Imperial guards on duty immediately recognized the dark, majestic aura of the vehicle and the elite shadow guards escorting it.
One of the commanding guards caught a brief glimpse of Heena’s sharp, fox-like eyes through the window. He immediately stiffened, dropping into a deep, respectful bow. Without demanding a single piece of identification or asking a single question, the guards scrambled to pull the massive iron gates open, allowing the Vanguard’s carriage to roll smoothly into the heart of the empire.
Normally, it was an absolute, unbreakable law of the Imperial Court that no one could ride a carriage past the outer palace gates. You were expected to dismount and walk the rest of the agonizingly long way to show respect to the Crown.
But with a military and noble rank as overwhelmingly high as the Vanguard’s, those rules were merely suggestions.
Heena’s carriage didn’t just pass the outer gates; it rolled straight through the sprawling inner courtyards. It only finally rolled to a smooth halt exactly three steps away from the main stairs of the Emperor’s grand pavilion.
Stepping out of the carriage, Heena couldn’t help but marvel at her grandfather’s absolute, petty brilliance. By stopping exactly three steps away, no one could legally accuse the Marcuset family of insulting the Imperial Palace by driving ’into’ the Emperor’s halls, yet he had still successfully ensured his granddaughter didn’t have to walk a single unnecessary inch. Her grandfather really was an absolute menace.