Athena in Tower Defense Game! [LitRPG]

The jovial atmosphere of the banquet was abruptly interrupted as the guests became aware of their own inappropriate behavior. Someone took the lead and began dancing again, attempting to restore the evening's spirit.

Athena observed Babron Lawrence striding purposefully to the side of their emperor. The two stood facing each other, engaged in a private conversation that was punctuated by uproarious laughter, as if they had heard the most amusing joke in the world.

Yet, amid this seemingly light-hearted exchange, the mood suddenly shifted. The smiles that had once been so genuine slowly faded, replaced by increasingly dark and stormy expressions. Athena wondered what could have occurred to make these two prominent figures lose their composure so drastically.

Eventually, the facade of cordiality collapsed completely, resulting in an abrupt and discordant end to the gathering. The banquet, which had promised to be a joyous occasion, had instead turned into a battleground of unspoken tensions. The attendees were left in an uncomfortable limbo—too cautious to fully enjoy themselves but equally reluctant to stifle the atmosphere altogether.

As Athena, the assistant, found herself out of place amidst such turmoil, she noticed how Yuris remained oblivious to the surrounding tension. Focused solely on her duties, Yuris was impervious to the odd stares she received, unshaken by the strange looks directed her way.

Eventually, one such onlooker chose to disengage, their disinterest evident as they turned away.

Athena, taking a small spoonful of cake, grimaced slightly. The sugar content was overwhelmingly excessive, leaving her unable to taste anything beyond an overpowering sweetness.

Watching the clinking glasses and murmurs of conversation, she found the scene rather mundane.

The real drama, she realized, lay in the covert power plays between the influential figures present.

Though her seat was unobtrusive in a far corner of the grand hall, her keen hearing allowed her to catch a significant amount of information. The evening had, thus far, proven to be more revealing than she had anticipated.

Within the imperial city, the Eagle Claw Agency and the imperial guards served under the emperor's direct command. Beyond the city's walls, however, lay Babron’s domain—long protected and cherished by the people, with significant military influence.

Though the current head of the Babron family had chosen a political career, the family's military prestige and their loyal following had not waned. They maintained their own formidable army.

The emperor had long harbored resentment towards the overly ambitious Babron family, yet had been unable to address the issue effectively.

For a time, the two sides had managed to maintain a facade of harmony, but the Prince's coming-of-age banquet had marked a turning point. On that day, Babron Lawrence's son had led the guard to a decisive victory against a key monster stronghold.

The son’s triumph overshadowed the prince’s coming-of-age celebration, rendering the prince's milestone virtually insignificant compared to the feats of Babron’s heir. This event had become a catalyst for the current covert hostilities between the factions, turning the empire into a simmering cauldron of tension.

“What is the Babron family trying to do? Are they really considering rebellion? Our emperor is no pushover,” an old nobleman, slightly inebriated, interjected into a discussion among the gathered guests.

The surrounding individuals instinctively distanced themselves from him. A few acquaintances patted his shoulder, signaling to an attendant to escort him away.

“You’re drunk.”

Everyone knew the unspoken truth, but discussing it openly was risky. Despite the seemingly safe confines of the palace, it was riddled with hidden watchers.

Once the elderly nobleman had been escorted out, the guests resumed their mingling, turning to lighter topics and recent amusements.

Among them was a newly ascended noblewoman, resplendent in extravagant attire, appearing somewhat overzealous compared to the others. Eager to make an impression, she engaged each lady in conversation, saying whatever she thought might be well-received.

“The Eagle Claw Agency is utterly useless, just catching a few mice in the tunnels. How can they still call themselves ‘eagle’ when they can’t even manage that?”

“And that Director Athena—just a deputy director. Does she promote herself?” She continued as the others smiled at her, increasingly enthusiastic, mistaking their reactions for approval.

“They’re just arrogant lapdogs in the imperial city. If they’re so capable, why don’t they prove themselves on the battlefield? I’ve heard they’re short on manpower lately.”

What started as an attempt to win favor had now turned into a display of self-indulgence. Those who had initially anticipated her failure now showed their disapproval, distancing themselves from her comments.

She was taken aback by the sudden shift in the crowd’s reaction. Only one kind-hearted noblewoman offered her a sympathetic glance.

Following that gaze, she saw Athena seated at a distance, quickly using her fan to cover her face.

The attempt to conceal her discomfort only drew more attention.

It was no surprise that she was so flustered; Athena had never attended such events before. This time, she arrived late and had discreetly found a seat, making her presence barely noticeable unless one was specifically looking for her.

However, the ability to read the room and observe the surroundings was a basic skill for nobles, and as a newly elevated noble, she clearly fell short.

Athena sipped her juice, masking the cloying sweetness with the tartness of the fruit.

Though she held the title of deputy director at the Eagle Claw Agency, she was effectively the highest authority since there was no actual director.

There had been one before, but he had died, and no replacement had been appointed since.

Midway through the evening, a servant approached Athena with urgency.

Despite the servant’s hurried pace, he moved with remarkable stealth, avoiding detection and making no sound.

He lowered his voice, “Director Athena, the Emperor is waiting for you in the palace’s rear garden.”

Athena placed her remaining juice on the servant’s tray but showed no intention of rising.

The servant quickly made a gesture for her to follow. Yuris, having momentarily closed her notebook, intended to accompany Athena but was held back by her.

“Wait for me here.” Athena adjusted her coat and followed the servant out.

Exiting through an ornately carved door on one side of the grand hall, they traversed a winding corridor and, after a considerable walk, arrived at the garden behind the palace.

The garden had been meticulously maintained, featuring an elegant fountain with crystal-clear water shimmering under the sunlight. Surrounding it were neatly trimmed flower beds.

At that moment, the Emperor and his son, the prince, stood by the fountain, their backs to Athena. They appeared to be admiring the scenery and engaged in conversation.

Upon hearing Athena’s approach, their conversation ceased. Even in this open space, their words were shielded from any prying ears.

This was the Emperor’s confidence.