Chapter 309 - 308: On Negotiation
Chapter 309 - 308: On Negotiation
Are these the two elven physicians the Emperor received?
Duke Ferdinand’s heart was slightly intrigued, so he discreetly observed the two elves before him.
The two elves were silver elves who bore striking resemblance to each other, featuring the signature golden long hair and pointed ears of their race. They stood tall, with flawless appearances, dressed in white court gowns (known as aristocratic lady dresses), and adorned with emblems bearing leaf and branch motifs on their chests, indicating their affiliation with the Druid factions...
What was most impressive wasn’t the beauty and grace of these elves, but rather their "synchronization," which was tighter and more harmonious than that of twin sisters. They spoke in unison and bowed almost in complete uniformity, giving Duke Ferdinand the illusion of watching a person and her shadow.
"I’ve never seen you," Duke Ferdinand Wendell remarked with a tone that was indifferent and reserved.
He hadn’t intended to converse much with the two physicians, especially since they were elven Transcendents hired by the royal family, but even if he asked a little more, no one would question it.
"You indeed haven’t seen us, for we’re not court doctors," the two elves spoke in unison in the first half of the sentence, then the slightly taller elf continued, "We were only summoned by the Emperor."
"I see," Duke Ferdinand nodded slightly, then diverted his attention from the elves and proceeded towards Emperor Rosetta Augustus’s reception room.
The emperor’s summoning of physicians, though uncommon, was a personal matter, and he, as the First Duke, had no reason to pay excessive attention to it.
The emperor, with great talent and wisdom, sat in the prominent seat at the head of the reception room, waiting for his First Duke.
The middle-aged emperor had eagle-like sharp eyes. Despite his sullen aura and thin frame, those piercing eyes were still fearsome, much like a powerful wolf. He sat in the chair with a broad back, the light descending from behind the chair casting him in a shadowy silhouette. Yet, as Duke Ferdinand entered the room, this middle-aged man who relished shrouding himself in shadows stood up voluntarily.
"Duke Ferdinand, I’m truly glad you’re willing to visit me on such a foggy day."
Duke Ferdinand was momentarily stunned, scarcely believing what he saw in Rosetta Augustus before him.
The emperor was still thin, still somewhat gloomy, but beneath his gray short curls, his eyes gleamed with clarity and wisdom. He stood upright, the smile on his face, although muted by his inherent somber aura, left no doubt that the emperor was in an unprecedentedly good state of mind.
Duke Ferdinand could no longer remember how long it had been since he last saw Rosetta Augustus smile, since he last saw those clear eyes, since he last heard him call his name with such ease and warmth—the madness curse that had plagued the Augustus Clan for over two centuries had temporarily lifted from this emperor?
Emperor Rosetta seemed unaware of Duke Ferdinand’s brief astonishment. He smiled and moved to sit beside another chair, gesturing for Duke Ferdinand to sit opposite him as usual, then began, "Coming here on such a foggy day, do you have something important to tell me?"
"Indeed, Your Majesty," Duke Ferdinand drew a breath and sat down before the emperor, "I’ve received intelligence from the border..."
He described the intelligence he had received while carefully monitoring Emperor Rosetta’s expression.
—Unlike Anzu, with its backward and chaotic state, Typhon Empire had achieved centralized power and reformed its aristocratic system through numerous successful reforms. Although the physically segmented aristocrats still existed, their power had been significantly compressed and controlled, and the authority of the entire aristocratic system was concentrated in the hands of the royal family. This could be considered a monumental transformation, spearheaded single-handedly by the emperor himself in his earlier years.
This centralized reform augmented the administrative efficiency of the empire to an unprecedented level. Subsequently, Duke Ferdinand Wendell was genuinely enamored with this monarch who was over ten years younger than him and willingly became a proactive supporter and assistant of the new policies. But the duke was also aware that there was always a massive shadow looming over the new policies—namely the emperor’s mental issues or the mental issues that every member of the Augustus Clan had to face.
The royal family’s strong authority could allow the empire to thrive but also multiply the adverse effects of the emperor’s mistakes in governance. As the empire’s First Duke, Duke Ferdinand Wendell’s mission was to consistently serve as a "safeguard" for the Augustus Clan. He adhered firmly to this mission, especially after the implementation of the new policies.
Emperor Rosetta Augustus listened with a detached expression, nodding slightly after hearing the contents of the intelligence: "So, Anzu, like Typhon, was attacked by those monsters."
"Your Majesty, those aren’t ordinary monsters. They may have wandered from the Gondor wasteland and are the desecrated entities referred to as aberrations by historians," Duke Ferdinand emphasized, Master Delin’s solemn warning echoing in his mind, "If they are indeed aberrations, then the attack on Winterwolf Fortress will merely be the beginning—more severe incidents might occur at any time."
"We should reconsider our wartime stance with Anzu now," Rosetta Augustus remarked casually.
"Faced with a common threat, so..." Duke Ferdinand almost habitually continued, until midway, he realized what he was hearing. He looked at the emperor in astonishment, "Your Majesty, do you mean..."
"We are facing a common threat; all humans, indeed all species, are united before this threat, aren’t we?" Rosetta revealed a slightly somber smile, "Every human kingdom has a lengthy border adjacent to the Gondor wasteland. Those monsters don’t differentiate between attacking Typhon or Anzu as they breach the border."
"So we..." Duke Ferdinand Wendell cautiously suggested, "should postpone next year’s plans?"
"Not just postpone, we should prepare more thoroughly, right?" Rosetta gazed into Duke Ferdinand’s eyes, "We might need to establish dialogues with Anzu again... provided that king retains the right judgment."
Duke Ferdinand said nothing, but glanced once more at the Typhon ruler before him, and the latter calmly responded, "Lord Ferdinand, I know you are very surprised.
"Recently, I’ve indeed been under a great deal of mental strain, but there’s no need for concern; I have always known precisely what I am doing.
"The Augustus curse may eventually fall upon me, but not now.
"Perhaps, I should take some time to express my condolences to Count Winterhold..."
"Your recovery is more important than anything else; I’ll share this good news with Earl Palin," Duke Ferdinand Wendell said, then hesitated for a moment, "Is it because of those two elves?"
"They have a private friendship with the Augustus Clan," Emperor Rosetta Augustus casually replied.
At the same time, two intelligence reports lay on the desk of Francis II, the King of Anzu.
The aging monarch meticulously read the contents of the reports, seemingly wanting to imprint every word into his memory. Finally, he sighed softly and tossed both pieces of magically treated light parchment into the fire pans beside him.
In the deep winter of St. Soniel, the cold winds swept the frost and snow from the northern mountains, howling between the ancient palace walls and bell towers. It seemed as though there were faint chimes coming with the wind, yet they only reverberated dimly outside the grand and luxurious crystal windows.
Francis II knew they were the bells of the Cathedral of the Holy Light—in this winter when evil cult followers ran rampant, the bells of the Church of the Holy Light rang at least twice as often as in previous winters. Listening to the faint chimes, King Francis II’s mood grew much calmer.
The Anzu crown prince, Prince Edmond, stood beside the king’s desk, watching as the parchment gradually turned to ash in the fire pans. He could still vaguely make out some of the words: Winter Wolf Fortress, attack, aberration, warning from the Cecil territory...
"Edmond, do you know what this intelligence means?" Francis II’s voice startled Prince Edmond from his thoughts. The old king warmed his hands over the fire pans, letting the fire’s strength heat his aged, cold blood vessels while asking seemingly nonchalantly.
The young prince frowned slightly: "It means the threats and challenges we face are increasing by the day?"
"No, it means we finally have some good news," the old king lifted his gaze, firelight reflecting in his cloudy eyes, "Anzu is not yet ready for war—fortunately, it has been delayed."
Edmond pondered this and shook his head slightly: "I don’t think that fanatical emperor of Typhon would be swayed by this."
"Edmond, you must not only focus on the specifics," the old king shook his head, expressing his judgment, "Rosetta Augustus might not waver, but the Noble Congress he formed, the intelligence received at the border, as well as his First Duke, his advisory council... he might have successfully centralized the royal power, but he still has to make compromises with the aristocratic faction."
Edmond Moen lowered his eyelids, concealing all changes in his expression: "So he must also compromise with the nobles..."
King Francis II raised his eyes, taking a glance at his favorite heir, but didn’t say much.
The young prince was too sharp, not yet understanding the significance of "compromise" to maintain the state, nor realizing the power and necessity of the traditional aristocratic system. But that’s alright; this is a crucial learning phase in every king’s maturation, and while he does not understand now, he will eventually come to understand.
"Compromise" and "negotiation" are what allowed a former illegitimate child, supported by the Northern Duke, to become the king of Anzu, gradually gaining control over the country’s situation and loosening the shackles around his neck, asserting true royal discourse power, relying on "compromise" and "negotiation."
Surface-level compromises, secret negotiations, and inherent interest exchanges are all there is to aristocratic politics.
The old king knew that negotiations with Typhon were not far off now.
In the study of the Cecil leader’s estate, a detailed report was delivered before Gawain.
Amber leaned over curiously; she spotted symbols representing several technological departments, including the Mechanical Manufacturing Facility, the Rune Research Center, and the Military Engineering Institute. But more striking was the strange device sketched on one of the sheets of paper.
It had long parallel tracks, a metal-cast base, and a contraption that seemed to be placed on the rails, labeled as "shells" or "sub-devices." It was indeed a novel thing.
The half-elf girl scratched her head: "Gawain, what is this?"
"A tool for measuring truth," Gawain smiled, "An extremely effective means of negotiation."
(By the way, I suddenly realized I haven’t mentioned the animation news here yet—ladies and gentlemen, the series Exception Creatures Chronicle is getting an animated adaptation, fully funded by Bilibili. You can find more details on my Weibo or our public account~~)
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