Chapter 305 : Chapter 305

Chapter 305. The Final Deadline

The ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍officials on Sylvia’s side looked ashen. Grayson took a step forward and was about to speak in rebuttal, but Sylvia stopped him with a look.

She ‍​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍watched this farce without saying a word.

At ‍​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍that moment, Dorg, who had remained silent all this time, finally moved.

He ‍​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍slowly swept his gaze over the “supporters” kneeling before him.

Those ‍​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍faces—some fawning, some foolish, some fanatical—were all filled with selfish desire.

What ‍​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍a bunch of actors.

In Dorg’s mind, a scene from ten years ago suddenly flashed past.

Back then, he had still been young, and he had traveled across more than half of the known world under the pretext of studying abroad.

In Valeria, he had seen the operating efficiency of the Imperial Council. That cold, precise bureaucratic machine had made him realize for the first time just how backward Astrelia’s system was.

In Meriga, he had seen towering buildings rise from the ground and brightly lit public schools. He had met engineers and lawyers born as commoners, yet brimming with confidence.

He had seen a society that did not operate by bloodline, but by ability and knowledge. It was full of vigorous vitality.

He knew better than anyone what sort of people these old nobles kneeling before him truly were.

So, is this my political foundation? A group of useless fools who only know how to take and obstruct the country’s progress.

A trace of exhaustion and resolve that no one noticed flashed through Dorg’s eyes.

He sighed softly, as if he had set down some heavy burden.

He stood up.

All clamor came to an abrupt halt at that moment.

Everyone’s gaze focused on the First Prince.

“A country cannot have two voices.”

Dorg’s voice clearly spread to every corner of the throne hall.

His voice carried a hint of sickly hoarseness, but his words landed with weight.

“Father-King has only just passed away. The traitor Moran has fled, and Valeria in the west has stationed troops at the border, watching us like a tiger eyeing its prey.” He coughed softly twice, but his eyes were clearer than they had ever been. “At this moment, there must not be another outbreak of armed conflict within the kingdom.”

He looked at Sylvia. Those eyes, which had always seemed somewhat turbid, were now exceptionally clear.

“I propose that after we hold Father-King’s state funeral, we convene the Supreme Privy Council at the Golden Rose Palace in ten days. At that time, the two of us, along with every duke and marquis who possesses a fief, will jointly discuss the final ownership of the royal authority.”

“Within these ten days, you and I will jointly sign and issue decrees to stabilize prices, appease the territories, and maintain the kingdom’s operation together. We will give this country a stable transition period, and also give each other... the final amount of time.”

When his voice fell, the entire throne hall became deathly silent.

The old nobles looked at one another. They had not expected the First Prince they supported to propose a “Ten-Day Agreement” instead of taking advantage of the momentum to demand immediate enthronement.

The officials in Sylvia’s faction also frowned as they tried to guess Dorg’s intentions.

Sylvia stared at her elder brother.

They both knew very well that if they fell out completely now, the armies of both sides would immediately go to war outside the Royal Capital. No matter who won or lost, Astrelia would suffer a grave loss of strength, and the foreign enemies would be the ones to benefit.

In Sylvia’s view, Dorg’s proposal of a Ten-Day Agreement was both a way to display his stance of “considering the greater good” and win support from the moderates.

At the same time, it gave both him and Sylvia one final buffer period to carry out the last round of political bargaining and military deployment.

This was a great gamble. The wager was who could win more support and reveal stronger trump cards within ten days.

“Very well.” Sylvia stood up.

“But I have one condition—before the Privy Council is convened, neither side may mobilize more than five hundred armed personnel into the area within fifty miles of the Royal Capital under any name.”

Dorg looked deeply at her and nodded. “Reasonable.”

That afternoon, the joint statement was released nationwide through the repaired Magitech Communication Towers.

The wording of the statement had been repeatedly polished by the aides of both sides. Its core content had only three points.

First, His Majesty the King’s state funeral would be held in three days.

Second, ten days after the state funeral, the Supreme Privy Council would be convened to discuss succession to the throne.

Third, during the transition period, decrees would be jointly signed and issued by First Prince Dorg and Princess Sylvia to maintain the operation of the state.

As soon as the news came out, it once again detonated public opinion at home and abroad. Everyone smelled the scent of an impending storm.

It was as if this was not a peaceful transition at all, but the final ultimatum before a decisive battle.

Valeria’s Imperial Morning News even printed an evening special edition. Its headline was—

《The Final Deadline: Where Will Astrelia’s Crown Fall?》

The tense atmosphere in the Royal Capital reached its peak during this period.

On the third day, the First and Third Northern Territory Mixed Corps, totaling fifteen thousand men, began breaking camp and marching south under General Victor’s command.

They did not take magitech trains. Instead, they advanced slowly toward the Royal Capital at the speed of a conventional march.

This iron army, equipped with Thunder Mark Rifles and Second-Generation Magitech Armor, was like a Sword of Damocles hanging north of the Royal Capital, silently declaring the will of the Northern Territory.

At the same time, the seven great nobles who supported Dorg, led by the Duke of the Western Territory, also began gathering private soldiers in their respective territories.

One army after another, equipped with enchanted armor and raising family banners high, advanced toward the Royal Capital from every direction, taking a stance that showed they would not hesitate to fight.

The whole of Astrelia had become a giant powder keg, waiting only for the match to be struck thirteen days later.

...

Night.

Sylvia’s temporary palace, the study.

The fire in the Fireplace burned brightly, filling the room with warmth, but Sylvia still felt somewhat cold.

She sat behind her desk. A military deployment map sent from the Northern Territory was spread out before her, but her gaze did not fall on it.

Logaris sat on the sofa across from her, holding today’s Royal Capital Daily and reading the editorial on the third page.

The editorial’s title was 《Can Her Highness the Princess’s Northern Territory Experiment Save the Kingdom?》

It was written very politely, but between the lines, it implied that Sylvia’s reforms were too radical and unsuitable for nationwide implementation.

He turned a page of the newspaper, and from the corner of his eye, he glanced at Sylvia’s profile.

She was lost in thought.

That was rare for Sylvia. This woman’s mind usually operated like a machine that never stopped, processing information, weighing pros and cons, and drafting plans every second. But now, her gaze was empty.

Logaris put down the newspaper.

“You are hesitating.”

He said it as a statement.

Sylvia’s shoulder moved almost imperceptibly, and she did not deny it.

She picked up the black tea that had already gone cold, took a sip, then set it down again. She leaned back into her chair and closed her eyes.

“Are you thinking about your elder brother?” Logaris asked.

Sylvia opened her eyes. The firelight from the Fireplace reflected in her silver-gray eyes, flickering uncertainly.

“He is not a bad person,” she said, her voice very soft.

Logaris did not reply. He only looked at her quietly, his pale-blue eyes appearing exceptionally calm behind his lenses.

“When I was little,” Sylvia said, her voice drifting, as if she were telling someone else’s story,

“after my mother died, Father-King refused to see me. In the entire palace, aside from Esmeralda, only my elder brother would occasionally come to see me. He would bring me newly bloomed white roses from the palace garden and tell me adventure stories he had heard outside about knights and witches.”

She paused for a moment, as if organizing her words.

“Later, his health grew worse and worse, and he gradually drifted away from me. He began to stay close to those old nobles, began to learn those hypocritical pleasantries, and began to play the part of a perfect heir apparent who met everyone’s expectations before Father-King.”

“But I have never felt that he is a bad person.”