Chapter 693: Elven Elder: Are You Saying That Just Because We Face An Immortal, We Shouldn’t Dare To Criticize?!

Arotala, Nausil Empire, Royal Capital.

The Elven royal capital had more than one name, but the most widely spread among them was, Silverbranch City.

This city was not only the royal capital of Nausil, but also the heart of the entire Arotala.

It was said that when the first generation of the Elven royal court planted the first city pillar here, the entire war-tree bloomed with silver-white flower branches, and in the long years that followed, the flower branches maintained the appearance of their first bloom under the careful cultivation of the Elves.

This was also how Silverbranch City got its name, and it had always been the city that Nausil was most proud of.

During Nausil's most prosperous era, countless adventurers chasing romance and beauty traveled across mountains and rivers to come here, and even if they weren't permitted to step into the city, some were willing to stay on distant hills, just to catch a distant glimpse of the silver-white flower crown and branches.

But at this moment.

Within this city, a heavy atmosphere that was completely at odds with its beautiful exterior was looming.

Inside Silverbranch City, the Moon Court Council Hall.

Brilliant moonlight spilled through the crystal dome, casting the hall in an underwater glow, with hanging vines and clusters of white flowers cascading from the beams between pillars, creating an elegant landscape.

Elven Queen Issezeia sat at the center position.

Her eyes were very distinctive, pale silver irises, as if concealing two miniature full moons.

But at this moment, within these two full moons, exhaustion was overflowing.

"What happened on the Thalassian Continent, everyone should already know."

"The Orc Empire is gone. Overnight, Kantum was wiped off Bernardo, and within half a month after that, Sacred Aola's fleet had already begun transporting pioneers, incorporating it into the Empire's territory."

"I think I don't need to remind you all that Sacred Aola's next target might be us."

"Elders, what are your opinions on this?"

The Elven Queen looked around.

With her at the center, ring after ring of tiered seats rose from low to high, with Elves seated on each ring, the depth of their robe colors representing their rank in the council.

Hearing the Queen's words, the council chamber fell silent for a moment.

After a moment, an Elven elder in a deep brown robe slowly stood up.

This elder was advanced in years, with many wrinkles on his face and a white beard hanging down to his chest, and even among the long-lived Elven race, he was an aged elder.

However, the Elven race also had a tradition.

Unlike short-lived races, they did not fear aging. On the contrary, being able to live to the end of one's lifespan was considered a form of fulfillment here.

Aged.

In Elven cultural context, it often also meant profound experience and high moral standing.

The Grand Elder first bowed slightly to the Queen, then spoke slowly: "What Your Majesty says is indeed alarming, but precisely because of this, we need to plan from a long-term perspective, rather than making decisions in panic and haste."

"We should first clarify Sacred Aola's true intentions. What are our goals, where are our bottom lines, and what means do we intend to use to carry out our will? At the same time, we must also assess whether we truly have no chance of victory if we do confront Sacred Aola, or whether we have no qualifications to negotiate terms."

"If we have no chance of victory, then do we have no qualifications to negotiate terms? What are our bargaining chips? And which chips would the other side care about?"

...

He stroked his long beard, speaking word by word:

"All of this requires sufficient time and intelligence to support. Decisions made without time are like drinking poison to quench thirst. Hasty judgments will only push Nausil into even more dangerous territory."

Plan from a long-term perspective...

The moment she heard those four words, along with the Grand Elder's lengthy discourse, Issezeia felt her temples throbbing with pain. She had heard these words too many times, to the point where she now instinctively recoiled from them.

At this moment, another female Elven elder spoke up.

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She was somewhat younger than the Grand Elder, but her face was also full of wrinkles, making her aged among Elves.

"The Grand Elder speaks with reason. I agree with his opinion."

She nodded in agreement, saying: "The growth of a forest requires time. Blades that move too swiftly only harm the one wielding them."

"The relationship between Nausil and Sacred Aola is interconnected, one move affects the whole. We must carefully deliberate, repeatedly weigh, and absolutely must not act rashly. We must not be like a deer eager to cross the river, stepping in before seeing the swamp on the opposite bank clearly."

"We should meticulously deduce every possibility before making a decision."

Even at a time like this, they still spoke in this unhurried manner, piling up rhetoric and metaphors just like usual...

Issezeia remained silent, not knowing what to say.

A sense of powerlessness quietly welled up in her heart.

She let out an almost imperceptible sigh, her eyes closing slightly.

For a moment, she felt as if she were sitting on the same throne listening to the same speech, only the time was different.

Again.

It was always like this.

When Sacred Aola had just been elevated to an Empire, the elders discussed whether to extend a diplomatic olive branch to Sacred Aola; later they discussed whether to support the demon war in Atlan; and later still they discussed whether to form an alliance with the Red Emperor's Empire...

Every time, it was planning from a long-term perspective.

No matter what the issue was, it required repeated proposals, discussions, and repeated deductions, until every member of the council confirmed that they had expressed enough opinions before a conclusion could barely be reached.

But by that time, the best opportunity had often already passed.

The Elven Queen felt deeply powerless about this.

She knew better than anyone that Nausil's council system had problems and needed many improvements, but she also knew better than anyone that the reform itself would be indefinitely subjected to the council's "planning from a long-term perspective."

Although the Nausil Empire was called an empire, its way of operation was completely different from any empire on Bernardo.

The Elves advocated freedom and laid-back living, and did not truly recognize autocratic rule.

Their culture championed the right of all individuals to have a voice. Thus, from the royal court to local regions, any major decision had to go through voting at various levels of council, and any dissenting voice had the right to be recorded and heard.

In Nausil, if a council member who held an opposing view felt that their perspective was not fully understood, they could repeatedly state their case in the council, and other members could not interrupt them.

This system granted the council enormous power, and at the same time drained the substantive authority of the throne.

Even the Queen could not bypass the council and act arbitrarily.

Or rather, she was merely the executor of the council's resolutions.

The Elven Queen looked up, gazing at an ancient inscription carved on the door.

- Wisdom is born from public deliberation, prosperity stems from unity of heart.

This was the founding principle of the Nausil council, carved on the doors of every council hall.

When she had first ascended the throne, Issezeia had no particular feeling about this saying, and even thought it truly suited Nausil's temperament.

This system had maintained the stability of the Elven kingdom through long years of peace. Even when opinions clashed, repeated debates often managed to forge consensus that all parties could accept.

But the problem was, these were no longer peaceful times.

The Elven Queen only felt that this system was utterly terrible. It was wasting Nausil's vitality bit by bit, causing the Empire to miss opportunities time and time again.

"Elders."

She took a deep breath, suppressing the surging emotions in her heart, and said in a low voice: "Allow me to remind you all, right now, we no longer have much time."

"The Empire is in turmoil, the martial law order has not been lifted to this day, and although the riots across the lands have been suppressed, they have never truly subsided. Meanwhile, Sacred Aola has already swept through the entire Thalassia with the force of lightning."

She looked at the elders: "Everyone, I ask you to seriously consider one question."

"Would that Red Emperor calmly wait outside the door just because our council has not yet reached a resolution?"

She spoke with utmost seriousness, her expression solemn to the extreme, hoping that these words would at least make a few elders realize the weight of the matter.

However, these words still failed to reach the hearts of the other elders.

"Your Majesty's words are somewhat overly worried."

"The situation is far from being so tense."

The Grand Elder picked up his teacup and took a sip of hot tea, his demeanor composed, and even spoke with a chuckle: "Our relationship with Sacred Aola is not hostile. In the war against Kantum, we once fought side by side. When Sacred Aola was invaded by demons, we also dispatched Fate Legendaries to support them."

"Moreover, the Red Emperor claims to be an order-side dragon, believing in rules and legal principles."

"Even if he truly wanted to make a move against Nausil, given his status, he would still need to find some suitable justification, have a proper cause for action, and then formally launch a campaign. It's not like he could just come without warning, without even a process, right?"

Crack!

A loud noise.

Issezeia slammed the table and rose to her feet, her robes sweeping up a gust of wind.

"Proper cause for action?!"

In her eyes, those two moon-like pupils burned with irrepressible anger for the first time.

The Elven Queen demanded angrily, rebuking:

"Do you think you know what kind of being the Red Emperor is?!"

"When he fought alongside us, he was indeed a reliable ally, keeping his promises, honoring his words, sparing our people from unnecessary casualties."

"But! Have you all forgotten how he treats his enemies?!"

"The orcs of Thalassia are the precedent! When he went to annihilate Kantum, was there any notice at all? Meteors rained down from the sky, and Kantum turned to scorched earth overnight! Do you want Nausil to end up the same way?!"

"Do you really think that Red Emperor cares about reasons? As for so-called excuses and justifications, he has completely no need for them anymore!"

The elders rarely saw the Elven Queen so out of character.

For a moment, the council hall fell into dead silence, a brief hush settling over the room.

Just then, a gust of emerald wind swept through the hall, carrying the scent of new growth, like the first breeze of spring.

Where the wind stopped, a slender figure silently materialized.

An emerald green dress, a young face, deep eyes, slender willow-leaf eyebrows slightly raised, with a cool, clear gaze.

Verdant Leaf Rendering Wind.

One of Nausil's Immortals, the true cornerstone of the Empire.

"Issezeia is right."

The Immortal said flatly, without much expression: "If this were peacetime, the elders could freely decide the deliberation process. But this is an extraordinary period. No matter what you all wish to discuss, you must reach a conclusion as quickly as possible. We cannot delay any longer."

The elders exchanged glances.

A few seconds later, an Elf slowly stood up.

The Grand Elder of the formal council, though his eye sockets were deeply sunken, his gaze was extremely sharp.

He nodded slightly toward the Immortal, speaking with neither humility nor arrogance: "Lady Rendering Wind, what you say naturally has merit. No one denies that the current situation requires our attention. Extraordinary times require extraordinary responses. I agree with that statement itself."

"However, His Majesty's behavior just now was truly improper."

He turned around, his gaze falling on Issezeia, and said with a frown: "Issezeia, I watched you grow up. I was already in this council when you were still learning to walk at the knee of the late King. I also know your hardships and contributions, but no matter what, as the Queen of Nausil, how can you be so emotional?"

"Slamming the table and rising, speaking harshly, pointing at your elders and shouting."

"If this gets out, how will people view our Nausil? They will think that we Elves are a crude and barbaric race. You must remember, your behavior represents Nausil. If you conduct yourself improperly, it is the entire Nausil's reputation that suffers."

After admonishing the Queen, he turned back to look at Verdant Leaf Rendering Wind.

"Furthermore, Lady Rendering Wind, what you said also has some merit, but allow me to remind you that your duty is to guard Nausil with your blade, not to participate in the Empire's council decisions."

"This is not something you should be concerned with."

"If Immortals, relying on their power, can freely enter and exit the council and point fingers at its decisions, then in the long run, is Nausil still a free and democratic empire, or is it the one-man rule of Immortals?"

"If it's the latter, I think that would not be the outcome our ancestors wished to see."

The Elven Grand Elder was a Legendary.

Although he had not reached the Fate level, he had already achieved crown-level.

This was a very high rank.

However, in the presence of an Immortal, there wasn't much difference between crown-level and Fate-level.

Yet this Grand Elder still dared to reprimand the Immortal for breaking the rules.

In his heart, he even felt a trace of pride because of it.

Because the one he faced was an Immortal. Because the other party could crush him with a single slap. So should he cower and dare not speak out?

He laughed inwardly.

That was the thinking of the weak!

A true wise man, a brave warrior who does not fear power, even when facing an existence standing at the pinnacle of the Material Plane, dares to point out the other's mistakes and improprieties.

This was the precious spiritual wealth passed down since ancient times in Nausil, the very backbone that the Grand Elder took pride in.

Verdant Leaf Rendering Wind fell silent.

Her gaze swept across the elders, a few traces of bloodshot appearing in her pupils. She thought, might as well just massacre all these old fossils, let them learn what respect means with their final breath...

Huff!

She took a deep breath, the Immortal's brows deeply furrowed, and then without a word, she turned into a gentle breeze and vanished from the council chamber.

She was not good with words, but she was very clear that if she stayed any longer, she would do something she might regret.

Rather than let the situation spiral out of control, it was better to leave first.

"Ha... haha..."

Issezeia watched this scene and suddenly couldn't help but laugh.

She was laughing in anger at this absurd spectacle.

An Immortal powerhouse standing at the pinnacle of power in the Material World, when facing a group of elders who hadn't even touched the edge of Immortality, was actually forced to leave in indignation, all because she followed the rules, had principles, and was unwilling to use violence against her own weaker kin...

This was Nausil, the empire she deeply loved yet felt so powerless about.

Outside, great dragons watched; inside, curses ravaged. And her elders still sat in the council chamber, meticulously upholding the council's procedures, the Queen's dignity, the boundaries of power...

After being laughed into anger, she suddenly felt mentally exhausted. Her laughter faded, and she couldn't even muster the energy to be angry anymore.

Legal principles, traditions, hierarchy, etiquette...

The Empire was about to fall, and they still cared about these things?

"Fine."

Issezeia slowly sat down, then slowly stood up again, saying: "Elders, continue your deliberation. I won't disturb you. Notify me when there's a result."

With that, she turned and walked out of the council chamber.

Bang!

She slammed the door, the grand doors closing heavily behind her.

Inside the room, after a brief silence, a low murmur of discussion arose.

"Her Majesty's temper is getting more and more impatient..."

"The young, after all, cannot hold their composure..."

"Lady Rendering Wind is also a concern. Power that is too great can easily make one lose direction. She seems unable to distinguish where her duties lie. Guarding the territory and participating in governance are two completely different matters."

"Alright, back to the main topic. Regarding Sacred Aola's true intentions, I believe we need to start from the Red Emperor's first visit to Arotala..."

The lengthy and tedious discussion continued.

Time passed from dusk to late night, and from late night to early morning.

The discussion in the council hall continued, but all topics remained at the level of what should be done and what shouldn't be done, with not a single conclusion being confirmed.

In short, no progress whatsoever.

Issezeia stood in the corridor outside the hall, not returning all night.

Morning mist condensed into dewdrops on her robes, but she paid no attention. She leaned against a pillar, tilting her head back, watching the sky gradually turn fish-belly white at the horizon, her expression already numb.

She had thought she could do something on the throne.

But the reality was, she was just treated like a vase, carried along by the council's voices, unable to convey her true thoughts.

She had also tried reform.

But forget reform, even the slightest action that didn't conform to the Queen's decorum would be pointed out and corrected. Even the advice of an Immortal would be directly refuted...

And unfortunately, Nausil's Immortals held extremely high moral standards, and wouldn't actually do anything to destroy traditional rules.

What can I do?

Unless, I kill all these old fossils first, only then would I have a chance to make my voice heard... She was startled by this thought that flashed through her mind, feeling it was too radical.

She couldn't help but follow this thought and daydream for a while, feeling incredibly satisfied.

Unfortunately, reality was cruel.

The council was still controlled by these elders, and until this moment, no one had come to invite her back.

They probably thought that after the Queen stood outside for a while and calmed down, she would come back on her own. After all, she always came back.

Issezeia looked at the sky and let out a soft sigh.

So tired, let it all be destroyed... She thought, her gaze falling unfocused toward the horizon.

Just then.

Under the Elven Queen's watchful gaze, the dawn was torn apart.

The sky seemed to be ripped open from the middle by an invisible giant hand, and a sun descended with a booming crash from within the rift.

No.

It wasn't a sun.

It was light, it was fire!

Overwhelming light and fire, accompanied by deep dragon might, poured down from the rift like a waterfall flowing backwards into the sky, or like morning glow condensed into a burning giant star plummeting to the mortal world.

The entire Nausil royal court was bathed in crimson red.

Then, within the flames and morning light, a crimson-red great dragon spread its wings and slowly descended from the torn sky. Mirror-like scales reflected the rising morning glow, two pairs of dragon horns spread across its crown, like a burning coronet.

Among dragons, his size was not particularly colossal.

But a kingly bearing and authority emanated naturally from him, causing every Elf who witnessed this scene to instinctively feel awe and dare not show the slightest negligence.

The great dragon lowered its gaze, looking down upon the entire Elven empire.

While the Elven elders were still discussing what to do next, the wings of the Master of Sacred Aola had already overshadowed the sky above Silverbranch City.

Behind him.

The door to the council chamber was pushed open, and the elders flooded onto the balcony, mouths agape as they looked up at the sky, faces filled with shock, panic, and bewilderment.

Issezeia, however, stood like a statue, completely motionless, merely tilting her head up, gazing at the great dragon.

She said softly: "You see, I told you... he wouldn't wait for you."

The elders did not respond, speechless.

In the sky, the red iron dragon's gaze swept across the royal court, finally landing on the moon-white figure in the corridor.

Garoth had seen this Elven Queen before.

During the war between Nausil and Kantum, this Queen had personally traveled to the front lines to inspire the warriors, and had a brief exchange with Garoth.

His memory was excellent, so naturally he had not forgotten.

The great dragon folded its wings and slowly descended, hovering above the Moon Court. The gale kicked up by its dragon wings swept through the city's silver-white flower branches, making them sway, petals scattering everywhere like a rain of flowers.

"Issezeia."

The red iron dragon looked down at her and said: "Many years ago, I once said that one day, I would come to Silverbranch Royal Capital to enjoy the scenery here and see this legendary city with my own eyes."

"Now, I have come."

"Having seen it today, it truly lives up to its reputation. The beauty of this city is worthy of every poet picking up their pen for it."

Issezeia was momentarily dazed.

She had long anticipated that this great dragon's achievements would be extraordinary, but how long had it been? He was already standing at the pinnacle of all Bernardo...

Snapping back to reality, the Elven Queen said: "Although the timing is hardly ideal, Silverbranch City still welcomes your arrival."

"The flower brew of Relsa, the white fruits of Moonspring Valley... For honored guests from afar, we will offer the finest specialties of Nausil. Please do not be disappointed."

She spoke with impeccable courtesy, complete in every formality.

Seeing the Queen's reaction, the great dragon grinned, thinking that what followed might be much simpler than expected.

He was about to speak.

"Emperor of Sacred Aola!"

An old, stern voice suddenly interrupted him.

Garoth paused mid-sentence and slowly turned his head to look.

The speaker was an aged Elf standing on the balcony, with a white beard hanging to his chest, wearing a deep brown robe.

It was the Grand Elder of the council, the old Elf who had just reprimanded the Queen and also the Immortal.

"You have come from afar, and we were not notified in advance. That is understandable."

The Grand Elder stood straight and said solemnly: "But arriving at Silverbranch City so suddenly, without submitting any diplomatic documents in advance, is somewhat... improper."

The red iron dragon was briefly stunned, bewildered for a moment.

Me? Improper? Did I hear that right?

"Elf."

His faceplate showed neither joy nor anger. The great dragon asked calmly: "Are you... teaching me how to do things?"

The Grand Elder suppressed the fear continuously surging from the depths of his heart, stiffened his neck, and said sternly: "As the ruler of a nation, you are the model for all of Sacred Aola! Every word and action represents the Empire's face! How can you act so absurdly, like a rogue adventurer who doesn't follow rules?!"

When it came to his familiar territory, the Grand Elder's fear subsided somewhat.

The more he spoke, the smoother he became, regaining the confidence he had when pontificating in the council hall.

"Emperor of Sacred Aola, if you do not wish to be ridiculed by the people of Bernardo, you should immediately return to Sacred Aola, and then follow normal diplomatic procedures to formally visit Nausil. This is the rule that a ruler of an empire should follow, the code of conduct of the civilized world."

This bold?

This old Elf probably had some mental issues.

Garoth was speechless with laughter, too lazy to pay him any mind.

He turned his head, once again looking at the Elven Queen in the corridor, and said with amusement: "I had long heard of the characteristics of the Nausil council. Having seen it today, the distance between rumor and reality is shorter than I imagined. Silverbranch City's scenery lives up to its name, and your council's style equally lives up to its name."

Issezeia opened her mouth, but before she could speak.

"What... do you mean by that?!"

"Are you questioning our Nausil's ancient traditions?!"

The Grand Elder's voice rang out again, indignantly: "Our Nausil's traditions have been passed down for a long time, surviving countless kings, countless wars, countless trials, and still standing tall to this day! How dare you question them! As a ruler of a nation, you should be careful with your words..."

Before he could finish.

The great dragon suddenly turned his head, his pupils slitting vertically in the instant of the turn, two pitch-black cracks splitting open within his originally calm eyes, like the Abyss opening its eyes within the flames.

Just as an eagle pays no heed to a sparrow's screech, a true dragon pays no heed to a wild dog's bark. He didn't care about the old Elf's words.

But ignoring the sparrow's chirping was one thing; tolerating the sparrow jumping onto his head right in front of him was another.

Disrespecting him? Fine.

As long as everyone could go their own way, Garoth didn't care much about others' respect.

But disrespect was one thing, and constantly provoking him on top of that?

That was stepping on Garoth's red line.

Boom!

With a single glance, without any warning, the Grand Elder's body lit up from the inside out. A ball of flame exploded from within his body, engulfing him entirely.

The old Elf didn't even manage to let out a scream.

A human-shaped pillar of fire stood for a brief instant, then under everyone's gaze, turned into a puff of flying ash, scattering in the morning breeze.

He had been stared to death.

Deadly silence.

Several Elven elders had ashen faces, but incredibly, they managed to squeeze out something that could be called courage from their fear, leaping forward and pointing at the great dragon in the sky, angrily rebuking.

"How dare you!"

"This is Nausil! How dare you!"

...

The scales on the red iron dragon's brow furrowed slightly, forming dangerous patterns.

He didn't quite understand why these Elves were so bold, daring to shout at him, but hearing these voices, the great dragon felt annoyance, having lost his last shred of patience.

"Annoying."

He said, and with a sweep of his gaze.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The Elven elders who had shouted out were ignited one after another, flames bursting from within their bodies, burning them to ash in the blink of an eye amid screams, leaving not even a scrap of clothing behind.

The morning breeze blew, scattering the ashes.

"Silverbranch City is renowned for its tranquility and beauty. Now it finally looks the part."

The great dragon said nonchalantly.

The remaining Elven elders were all trembling in fear, their faces as pale as paper, their legs shaking like sieves, but not a single one of them dared to utter another word.

In the face of unquestionable power, the so-called traditions, rules...

Didn't even weigh as much as a speck of ash.

They had finally fallen silent.

Garoth nodded in satisfaction, turning his head back to look at the Elven Queen in the corridor.

"Excellent."

He said: "Now, we can continue our discussion of important matters."

The Elven Queen watched the ashes drifting in the air.

Her reason told her that she should feel anger about this.

After all, these Elven elders were her own people, part of the Nausil Empire, subjects of the Empire.

She should protect her subjects and feel indignation at the violence of an outsider.

But she found that she didn't.

Not only was she not angry, the reality was that the gloom that had accumulated in her heart all night had suddenly dissipated completely, and she felt an unprecedented sense of relief.

The Elven Queen reached up and tucked back the golden hair scattered by the morning breeze, tucking it behind her ears.

"Of course."

She smiled slightly and said: "I have been waiting for a long time."