Chapter 330

Chapter 330. Remington: Watch Me Work! Time to Clip the Vassals’ Wings!

The atmosphere inside the great hall instantly dropped to freezing point.

The false smiles on both their faces had been torn away, revealing the cold fangs beneath.

Two old foxes, both masters of calculation, were using the most vicious language to frantically probe each other’s bottom line and value.

After a long while, Remington suddenly laughed, breaking the suffocating silence.

“Lord Moran, you truly are a clever man. Clever enough that even I am somewhat wary of you.”

That uncontrollable desire surfaced in his eyes again, like a starving beast seeing the most delicious prey.

Yet his tone was abnormally firm, without the slightest hint of yielding. He looked every bit like an experienced man who would not release the hawk until he saw the hare.

“Since we are both clever men, I will not beat around the bush.” Remington’s voice cooled. “I can send troops, but the condition I proposed earlier must have its order changed.”

“Oh?” A trace of interest flashed through Moran’s vertical pupils.

“You truly do have a way to help me complete my dragon-blood sublimation. I believe that.” Remington took a step forward and looked straight into Moran’s inhuman eyes, showing no intention of backing down.

“But once my army marches, the food, fodder, and supplies consumed each day will be astronomical. Moreover, they will have to directly face the endless strange magitech weapons of the Northern Territory.”

“If I not only fail to gain military merit in this war, but instead damage my prestige, and in the end still fail to obtain the power I want... would that not mean I lose everything and become the greatest joke in the entire Demi-Human Empire?”

Remington’s voice abruptly rose, carrying unquestionable decisiveness.

“So... I want you to activate the ritual first and guide that so-called ‘Great Will’ to descend, so it can baptize my bloodline!”

“Once I successfully break through and truly grasp power!”

“The Demi-Human Empire’s million battle banners will naturally point toward the Northern Territory at once, without the slightest hesitation!”

Moran stared at Remington, a wisp of pure black Dragon Breath leaping at his fingertip. Of course he knew what Remington was plotting.

Once the other party obtained what he wanted first, Moran would lose his most important bargaining chip and completely fall into the position of a passive hatchet man.

But he had no other choice now.

He had already lost everything.

“Sublimate your bloodline first...” Moran closed his sharp claws and extinguished that wisp of Dragon Breath. His voice was hoarse and cold. “A very cautious proposal.”

A strange smile appeared on Moran’s twisted half-dragon face.

“However, the Great Will will not help for nothing. If you wish to forcibly elevate your bloodline, you will naturally need an extremely vast number of ‘sacrifices.’”

“At present, there are two ways to perform the baptism for you. The first is to consume hundreds of thousands of living beings in a blood sacrifice, using immense life energy to forcibly elevate your bloodline...”

His words were filled with demonic temptation, as though they could make one see the grand spectacle of mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

“No.” Remington rejected him flatly without even thinking, his brows tightly furrowed.

Although he did not take the lives of the lower-class commoners seriously, if he carried out such a large-scale massacre and blood sacrifice within the empire, it would inevitably trigger nationwide riots.

It might even allow those legion commanders who were already dissatisfied with him to find an excuse to rebel. His position as Regent would collapse instantly.

“I guessed you would refuse.” Moran was not surprised. A cold light flickered in his dark-red vertical pupils. “Then only the second method remains—find a powerhouse who shares the same source as you, or at least possesses high-purity dragon blood, and extract a large amount of their blood essence to use as the raw material for sublimation.”

Hearing this condition, Remington fell silent.

Dragon blood essence of the same source?

The first person to appear in his mind was his nephew, who had been forced into exile—Alectos.

As the rightful imperial bloodline, Alei was undoubtedly the most perfect sacrifice for this ritual.

But right now, that boy had long since vanished without a trace. Trying to capture him was no different from indulging in fantasy.

Since Alei was not an option, who else in the kingdom possessed pure dragon blood?

Remington’s thoughts turned rapidly.

The “Silver Dragon Bloodline,” which had always served as the absolute guardians of the royal palace, did meet the conditions.

But due to certain historical reasons, there were already very few surviving members of that bloodline. The few who remained were all closely connected, and touching one would affect them all.

Moreover, the strongest among them was the Seventh-Tier Knight known as “Silver Edge,” who stood at the pinnacle of the empire.

The moment he thought of that man, even Remington could not help feeling a chill in his heart.

He was a true imperial bulwark who had fought his way out through mountains of corpses and seas of blood. Touching the Silver Dragon Bloodline would be no different from courting death.

Alei could not be found, and the Silver Dragon Bloodline could not be touched.

Then the remaining ones who possessed a sufficiently high concentration of dragon blood were...

Remington’s gaze gradually darkened, and the regional princes entrenched throughout the empire surfaced in his mind. On ordinary days, they outwardly complied with him as Regent while secretly defying him, obeying his summons but not his orders.

More or less, royal dragon blood flowed through all of them.

A chilling vicious light flashed through the depths of Remington’s eyes.

It seemed it was time to think of a way to properly “punish” these princes who had grown arrogant by relying on their troops.

As long as he took them down, would the sacrifices for sublimating his bloodline not be justifiably gathered?

At the same time, he could weaken the power of the various regions and strengthen central rule. It was simply killing two birds with one stone!

Thinking of this, Remington bowed slightly, and the smile at the corner of his mouth finally reached his eyes. That smile carried undisguised cruelty and ambition.

“As long as I can obtain power, what do a mere few sacrifices count for? May our cooperation be pleasant, Lord Moran.”

...

Royal Capital, Golden Rose Palace.

Privy Council Hall.

Sunlight shone through the enormous stained-glass windows, yet it could not dispel the bone-deep chill inside the hall in the slightest.

Around the long table, grand enough to seat two hundred people, fewer than fifty were sparsely seated at this moment.

Most of these people were mid- and lower-level officials in charge of kingdom affairs, or pragmatic technocrats who had never participated in factional struggles.

Their superiors and colleagues had either died at Redleaf Manor, or were currently “reflecting on life” in the dungeon.

Sylvia stood on the steps at the end of the long table. Today, she had changed into a dark-gold royal ceremonial dress, its hem dragging across the floor. Her silver-gray hair was pinned high, revealing her long, fair neck.

There was no expression on that breathtakingly beautiful face. She was cold, noble, and carried a majesty that no one dared look directly at.

She did not sit on the royal throne that represented supreme power. She merely looked down from above at this group of trembling kingdom officials.

In fact, after last night’s iron-blooded purge, Sylvia’s coronation was already set in stone, and no one in the entire Royal Capital dared voice the slightest objection.

But this Privy Council still had to be held as scheduled. After all, the necessary “procedure” still had to be carried out.

If this legal process were not completed, the “Ten-Day Agreement” that had shaken the court and the public earlier would seem somewhat farcical.

Even if the absolute core figure of that agreement—Dorg—was not present at this meeting at all, the majesty of royal authority and the legitimacy of procedure still had to be absolutely preserved.