Chapter 31: The Weight of the Crown and the Unfolding Future

The Old Patriarch walked leisurely along the pristine courtyard corridor, his mind replaying the recent scenes. The position of Council Chairman was far from easy. It represented power and status, but also immense responsibility.

This was not the first time the Dwarves and Elves had clashed. Their territories were primarily on the mainland, often bordering each other, yet the two races were burdened by deep-seated historical grievances and ideological conflicts.

The issue of the mines served as a prime example.

The Dwarves’ practice of exploiting resources to exhaustion was not uncommon. This wasn’t merely due to shortsightedness, but stemmed from their belief that long-term investments were inherently insecure.

While the idea of Ore Sprites continuously regenerating minerals sounded wonderful, what if this regeneration cycle spanned centuries?

Dwarves were pragmatic. They believed no one could predict events a century into the future; Ore Sprites might perish for various reasons, and the mines might no longer belong to them. Thus, they preferred to seize all available resources while the mines were still under their control.

Conversely, the long-lived Elves could not comprehend such destructive, unsustainable practices. Their extended lifespans allowed them to plan for dozens of centuries, meaning that by holding enough mines, they could acquire vast quantities of ore far exceeding current yields over their lifetimes.

Of course, these particular mines belonged to the Dwarves. However, a very close connection existed between sprites and Elves. As kin to the same deity, this bond touched upon the very essence of life itself. Hence, Elves viewed the less intelligent elemental sprites as their own, ensuring their interests were protected.

Promen’s proposal, while not overly complex, was something neither the Elves nor the Dwarves lacked the wisdom to devise. Yet, they would forever be unable to reach a consensus due to their historical animosities and clashing ideologies.

Therefore, a third party was needed to mediate, one with sufficiently long-term vision, resolute execution, and keen judgment.

The Dragon race *could* intervene, but there was no necessity for it.

Their numbers were simply too few. While this scarcity bestowed immense power upon the Dragons, that power could not withstand losses, and it actively hindered their expansion.

The Dragon race currently struggled to fully utilize the resources of Dragon Island—a collective term for the seas and islands they controlled. For mainland affairs, the Dragons needed a platform for influence and expression, but they absolutely could not allow themselves to be dragged into the mire.

Consequently, the Old Patriarch’s previous mediations had always addressed the symptoms, but never the root cause.

Addressing the root cause would demand a massive investment of resources.

Just as Promen had suggested: people, effort, and intellect.

If Promen wished to undertake this, then so be it. This was quite beneficial, for the existence of an entity to resolve conflicts would only amplify the significance and longevity of the Council as an institution.

He believed Promen’s prestige would greatly increase upon his return, having orchestrated the connection between the three races.

The Old Patriarch’s mind replayed a specific line: ‘If any human faction commits acts of fraud during this period, the Empire will spare no expense to ensure they provide you with an explanation and compensation.’

How righteous, how impeccable a justification! At that point, the Dwarves surely wouldn’t stand by as their ally fought alone for their interests.

After all, establishing trade channels meant that even without direct military intervention, they could supply a wealth of high-quality weapons and equipment.

“Old Patriarch, perhaps we will have the chance to witness humanity reuniting once more.”

A melodious voice drifted from beside him. The Old Patriarch paused, turning to the Elf Queen who had followed him. “Perhaps,” he replied. “But the future is always uncertain. Moreover, maintaining an empire is far from easy.”

“Indeed,” the Elf Queen nodded. After sharing a smile with the Old Patriarch, she skillfully changed the subject.

“Theresia recently reported to me that she has conquered the first ninety-nine floors of Montoyer and plans to challenge the hundredth floor soon.”

“Reported to you?” the Old Patriarch asked, puzzled. “What would she report to you?”

The Elf Queen chuckled. “I am Theresia’s employer. She is still working for the Elves, after all. If she encounters difficulties, I naturally can’t ignore it. While I can’t offer much, I can provide some funding. Over time, she began to regularly update me on her progress.”

“So *you’re* the one funding Theresia!” The Old Patriarch’s pupils contracted. He had wondered why it was so strange—every time he painstakingly tried to drain Theresia’s money, she would soon conjure up a fresh influx of funds.

For a moment, the Old Patriarch felt a twinge of a headache. The Elf Queen looked at him in surprise, not quite understanding why he seemed so distressed about providing financial support to his own Dragon.

The Old Patriarch ultimately kept his own actions to himself. He still had his dignity, and the thought of relying on tricking a junior into producing Dragon eggs was enough to make him blush.

“I see. I recall that the first ninety-nine floors have long been traversed, but no one has ever successfully cleared the hundredth. There are even rumors that the final floor of Montoyer *is* the hundredth.”

The Elf Queen covered her mouth, stifling a giggle. “I truly look forward to the day Theresia brings our Elven secret treasure before me.”

The Old Patriarch rolled his eyes. “Yes, if she finds it, she’ll certainly bring it to you. After all, no one else knows how to use it but you.”

The Elf Queen continued, “Speaking of which, my child also happens to be training in Montoyer.”

The Old Patriarch cast a sidelong glance at the Elf Queen. “That’s quite a coincidence. Have they met yet?”

The Elf Queen clasped her hands behind her back. “Not yet. My child has little combat experience outside, and couldn’t keep up with Theresia’s pace before. To avoid delaying important matters, I didn’t inform them.”

The Old Patriarch mused, “Is that so? Then find an opportunity for them to meet. It would be good for the younger generation to interact and foster relations between our two races.”

A glint sparked in the Elf Queen’s eyes. “Indeed, they should interact. Our numbers are not what they once were, and we need more interaction. I will arrange a meeting upon my return.”

The Old Patriarch knew what schemes were brewing in her mind. It was akin to the ancient alliance between Giants and Dragons, forming a Dragon-Giant Alliance capable of rivaling the gods.

The Elves had harbored this idea since the Age of Elves. However, they lacked the strength and prestige of the Giants. Secondly, the Dragon race was quite weak at the time, possessing the ultimate trump card but lacking the capital to contend.

Even if they accepted the Elves’ overtures, they would gradually be manipulated by them. It was better to remain aloof, listening only when it suited them.

Now, with the Dragon race gradually reviving and the Elves indeed not as powerful as before, an alliance was plausible.

At the very least, Elves could still cooperate with Dragons, given that Elves were mostly elite mages and archers.

As for humans… aside from those with special bloodlines, what good was a human standing on a Dragon’s back? Dragons were not mindless beasts, and their ranged capabilities were far inferior to those of the current Elves.

What was commendable about humans was their vast numbers and their proficiency in large-scale warfare, but even that was difficult to coordinate with the Dragon race.

“Old Patriarch, Your Majesty.”

Promen’s voice came from behind. The Old Dragon and the Elf Queen stopped, turning to greet him.

“Ah, Chairman,” the Old Patriarch said.

“Chairman, have you finished with Rigardu? You’ve worked hard,” the Elf Queen added.

Promen gave a wry smile. “Before you, I am still merely a junior. Please, at least in private, call me Promen. It prevents me from feeling so ill at ease.”

“In the Council, there are no seniority ranks, only ability and responsibility,” the Old Patriarch stated. “You are the one we recognize. There’s no need for excessive humility. Let’s talk together.”

“Very well.”

The three walked together in the courtyard when Promen suddenly spoke. “Old Patriarch, the upcoming sustainable mining policy will require considerable cooperation and assistance from the Dragon race. However, the Dragon race currently has no official office on the mainland, and Dragon Island is too distant.”

“My thought is this: while historical issues indeed persist between the Elves and Dwarves, perhaps the office could be established within human territory. To facilitate coordination among our parties, we could first establish a temporary Mineral Dispute Arbitration Center in my nation, and then make adjustments based on the actual situation.”

The Old Patriarch looked at Promen. Had the Dragon race ever established an office among humans before?

Yes, during the era of the United Human Empire.

As proof of their acknowledgment of the United Human Empire’s continental hegemony, the Dragon race had established an embassy in its capital.

However, with the decline of the United Empire, after the Dragon embassy was destroyed in a political conspiracy, even though the Dragons stationed there were unharmed, the Dragon race withdrew its envoys and never returned.

Although that embassy was rebuilt within a mere three days, no Dragon ever garrisoned there again. That incident also became the catalyst for the United Human Empire’s fragmentation, and the newly built embassy was subsequently consumed by the fires of war.

The Dragon race indeed could not afford losses, but as long as it maintained its power and mystique, it possessed immense deterrent force. At the very least, it had the capability to decimate any single race.

After the United Empire, the Dragon race never again established an embassy in any human nation.

Promen’s ambition was considerable and not hidden. He had also provided ample justification.

As for why he hadn’t raised this in the meeting? Because meeting discussions and recordings would be made public after the Council session, and such an act would displease certain human nobles. Humans never lacked internal strife; seeing others profit was often more painful than their own losses. What Promen was striving for transcended mere money.

Thus, discussing it privately meant it would be harder to attribute the proposal to any specific race later.

The Old Patriarch smiled. “Indeed, a proper arrangement. I understand. The day after tomorrow, I will arrange for a Dragon to meet with the Chairman. For subsequent arrangements, you and the Dragon can communicate directly; they will represent me fully on the mainland.”

Even Promen hadn’t expected things to proceed so smoothly, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

At this, the Elf Queen also spoke. “Then I shall also arrange for a representative to negotiate. The time will also be the day after tomorrow. You should inform Rigardu shortly, and have him arrange for someone to join them the day after tomorrow as well. He will certainly agree. Once that department is officially established, we will then send our representatives to reside there.”

What the hell was a surprise?

*This* was a surprise!

Promen’s head spun slightly, but fortunately, his rationality held. Blessings never came in pairs, but misfortunes never came alone.

Promen knew what kind of storm this news would unleash within the human nations. The last three-race accredited institution dated back to the United Human Empire, coupled with the Sword of Kings. This was practically telling humanity: your Emperor has returned!

Promen forcefully suppressed the surging emotions within him. A towering tree often attracted the wind and easily broke its branches. Humans were never a single brick; they feared their brethren’s hardship, yet also feared their brethren’s success. This idiom perfectly described humanity.

Promen had not intended to achieve this in one stroke. He did want to arrange for the Elves and Dwarves, but not in his own royal capital, rather in two other human allied nations. He would then proceed gradually.

But now, the Elf Queen’s all-in move made it impossible to voice his original suggestion. She had explicitly pointed to the mineral arbitration center in *his* royal capital, and arranging the Dwarves elsewhere would jeopardize the newly established relationship with them.

The Old Patriarch paused. The Elf Queen’s interjection had made things far more interesting. He stopped and looked at Promen, asking, “Can you manage it?”

The Old Patriarch’s deep voice was like a heavy iron gate, sealing off Promen’s retreat. To refuse would mean the collapse of everything they had just agreed upon.

This was a test, a trial from the three races.

If he accepted this test, the greatest obstacle would not come from the three races, but rather from the terrifying malice of humanity itself.

As the new Chairman, he needed to handle the Mineral Arbitration Center and its coordination beautifully. Originally, with his prior arrangements, relying on human strength wouldn’t have been difficult. Now, the ‘cooperation’ of the three races had ironically fractured human unity.

“I can.”

Promen’s voice rang out, firm and resolute. “I will overcome all difficulties and fully advance the policy of sustainable mineral development, upholding the Council’s authority.”

The Old Patriarch and the Elf Queen smiled, and their halted footsteps resumed once more.

“Are the Old Patriarch’s and Your Majesty’s juniors operating in Montoyer? If assistance is needed, I still have some influence in Montoyer.”

“Oh, it’s just children’s play. No assistance needed.”

“Indeed, without a little hardship, children cannot truly grow.”

“I see. If you do need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

****

In the capital of the Arendell Empire.

A luxuriously dressed young man constantly moved through the palace gates. He was Larkin, the son of Emperor Promen and a prince of the Arendell Empire.

Upon Emperor Promen’s return from the United Council, he had immediately summoned Larkin. At this moment, Larkin had no idea what had transpired, but the entire palace was filled with a chilling solemnity, with numerous imperial guards sealing off both its interior and exterior.

Along the way, he had also encountered highly influential ministers of the Empire and his own siblings. All had been summoned urgently; even one who was bedridden had been carried in.

Arriving at the Emperor’s study, the Prince was somewhat surprised to see his father leaning wearily back in his chair. As long as he could remember, his father’s posture in the study had always been ramrod straight, but now it seemed as though a colossal boulder weighed upon him.

The accompanying ministers shared his astonishment.

“Father, are you alright?”

“Sit down.”

There was no answer to the Prince’s question, only an undeniable command. The Prince could only obediently take his seat. Only when everyone had arrived did the Emperor straighten his back, signaling his trusted aide to activate a silencing barrier.

It was then that he recounted the events of the Council.

Sweat beaded on their brows. The ministers entrusted by Promen were not ordinary individuals; they were ambitious and progressive. Yet, even they felt their Emperor was perhaps being overly aggressive.

However, they also understood that this was not Promen’s doing. The temptation was simply too great, and while the opportunity seemed ever-present, in reality, it could only be seized at a specific, opportune moment. Miss it, and it would be gone forever.

“A blessing is not a curse, and a curse cannot be avoided,” Promen slowly began. “In three days, the Empire will welcome those three distinguished guests. Will we brave the winds to ascend the peak and unify humanity, or will we, under the malice of our own kind, fall into the abyss?”

“The fate of the Empire rests in our hands. Each of us has yearned for the glory of the United Human Empire. Once, we thought it unattainable, but now the opportunity has been delivered to our doorstep.”

“I have made my decision, and I do not regret my choice. And you, my lords, are you willing to stand with me and usher in a new chapter for humanity?”

Promen’s voice was powerful and resonant. The ministers present trembled involuntarily. The ailing minister, who had been leaning against his chair, suddenly stood up, disregarding proper etiquette, and shouted, “Yes! Your Majesty, I am willing! I wish to be a subject of an empire that unifies humanity!”

“We are willing!”

No one present held back; all the ministers and princes rose, filled with excitement.

“Good!”

Promen began to systematically assign tasks to his ministers, asking them to help refine his ideas. As one by one the ministers departed, only a few princes and princesses remained in the room.

“I need you to establish human liaison points with the Dragon race, the Dwarves, and the Elves. Remember, these are *human* liaison points, not Arendell Empire embassies. Whatever anyone asks, you will give this answer. Engrave it in your minds, do you hear me?!”

“Yes, Father Emperor.”

Then Promen issued an unexpected command: “During your tenure as liaison officers, you are not permitted to marry any humans. You understand what I mean, but do not commit foolish acts to achieve your goals. I have chosen you because you understand proper measure.”

“Even if you fail, you will still be recognized for your efforts upon your return. But if you commit foolish acts, I will personally judge you. This is not a father’s decision, but an emperor’s command. You know the gravity of this.”

After assigning the various princes and princesses their destinations, Promen’s gaze settled on Larkin, who had not yet been assigned.

“Larkin, your mission is quite unique. I need you to go to Montoyer.”

“The City of Mazes?” Larkin asked, confused. “What’s there?”

Promen explained, “A female Dragon and an Elf woman. They are the juniors of the Dragon race’s authority figures. The Empire has very little information on them. I need you to make contact with them, but from the conversations between the Elf Queen and the Dragon Patriarch, I sense they are both highly individualistic.”

“Individuality means that interacting with them requires careful management of distance. The Empire needs to maintain good relations with them.”

“So, do you understand why I’ve chosen you?”

Larkin mused, “Because I am charming enough to attract these two?”

Promen sighed heavily. “No, it’s because birds of a feather flock together. Please, Larkin, this is one of the few ways I can think of for you to use your unique personality for a good cause.”

“Get along with them, but don’t get too carried away. You must not antagonize them; that is the bottom line, understand? Oh, and if your foolishness leads to your death, before you die, find a way to make them believe you are not my son, but an imposter, understood?”

Larkin: “…”