Chapter 338

Chapter 338. Dorg’s Choice

Dorg ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍raised the small blue vial in his hand.

“Logaris ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍gave me ten years of life. I do not want to waste these ten years on endless meetings, documents that can never be fully reviewed, and those hypocritical social engagements. I do not want to keep compromising just to balance the interests of all sides.”

“I ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍want to take Nevira and go see the sea. I want to plant grapes in a manor in the Eastern Territory. Or maybe I will open a small tavern in the lower district of the Royal Capital and live a quiet life. I owe her far too much. For these ten years, I only want to live for myself.”

Dorg ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍took two steps back and leaned against the window frame.

He ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍lifted the blue potion before his eyes and shook it slightly in the morning light coming in from outside.

“Moreover, ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍anyone can sit in the position of Prime Minister except me.”

Sylvia quietly looked at him, complicated emotions filling her silver-gray eyes.

Dorg saw the words of persuasion she had not spoken. He shifted into a more comfortable posture, and his tone became serious and sharp.

“The reason is very simple. I am the first in line of succession. If those fence-sitters outside who have not yet been cleaned out see that the First Prince has become Prime Minister, what will be the first thought in their minds?”

He raised one finger.

“‘The First Prince is controlling the queen from behind the scenes.’ Their second thought will be—‘The First Prince can restore the old order at any time.’ Believe it or not, within three months, the memorials impeaching me will be enough to cover the floor of the Golden Rose Palace twice over.”

Sylvia fell silent for a few seconds.

Dorg saw through her thoughts and laughed.

“Do not make that kind of expression. I already said it. For these ten years, I only want to live for myself.”

He suddenly raised his hand and pointed at the black-haired young man in the corner, who was currently sitting with one leg crossed over the other, holding an ancient tome and reading it with great interest.

“Besides, speaking of Prime Minister, there is already a ready-made candidate.”

Dorg tilted his head, his tone filled with the casual indolence of someone watching a show.

“Why do you not let Logaris become Prime Minister?”

The laboratory fell silent for half a beat.

Logaris did not even raise his head and continued flipping through his book.

Sylvia sighed and rolled her eyes at Logaris.

“Him?” Sylvia supported herself against the table with one hand.

“You want a person who cannot move his feet whenever he sees a new material, and who can go three days without bathing just for the sake of research, to handle state affairs? Are you trying to make the entire Cabinet explode along with him?”

“Hey, I bathed,” Logaris finally said.

Sylvia was too lazy to bother with him and continued speaking to Dorg. “Besides, even if I went mad and was willing to give it to him, ask this great professor whether he even cares for it.”

Hearing this, Logaris lowered his head again, turned a page, and gave an “Mm” without raising his head, which counted as his tacit agreement.

That matter-of-fact, completely unruffled attitude made Sylvia so angry that she secretly ground her silver teeth.

“At least pretend for my sake!”

“No need.” Logaris’s voice came from behind the book, still in that perfectly calm tone.

Sylvia rubbed her temples weakly.

Fine. The Prime Minister had thrown down the burden and refused to work, while the reserve candidate simply would not even take the offer. After going in circles, every burden still had to be carried by her alone in the end.

“Then just accept your fate.”

Dorg shrugged, his face full of relaxed ease that clearly said this had nothing to do with him.

“There is no helping it. Who made my little sister born to a life of hard work?”

Sylvia glared at him coldly.

Dorg did not linger any longer. He took the hand of Nevira, who had been standing at the side with reddened eyes, and the two of them walked toward the laboratory door one after the other.

When he reached the threshold, Dorg stopped.

He reached out and patted Logaris on the shoulder. The force was not heavy, but it was very solid.

“The situation changes quickly, and the human heart is hard to predict.” Dorg turned half his face to the side. His handsome profile looked especially clear under the shifting light and shadow of the laboratory.

He lowered his voice and spoke with a slightly rough honesty that only Logaris could hear.

“When a flower is ready to be plucked, pluck it while you can. Stop dawdling and make your move early. Understand?”

In that instant, Logaris’s hand, which had been turning a page, froze in midair.

He slowly raised his head. Behind his lenses, his red and blue heterochromatic eyes met Dorg’s eyes, which were filled with a teasing smile.

The two looked at each other for less than a second. Logaris pushed up his glasses and said nothing.

Dorg smiled, said no more, and strode out of the laboratory door while holding Nevira’s hand.

The door closed behind him.

Sylvia stood where she was, her back facing Logaris, motionless. But her fair ears turned visibly red at a speed the naked eye could see.

Thanks to the perception of a Sixth-Tier Knight, far surpassing that of ordinary people, she had heard every single word of Dorg’s whisper!

She turned around, keeping her back to Logaris, and pretended to tidy the documents on the table.

“Your brother... is quite humorous.” Logaris’s voice sounded behind her, breaking the suffocating silence.

“Shut up.”

“Oh.”

Logaris tactfully lowered his head and continued reading his ancient tome. The curve at the corner of his mouth was completely hidden by the spine of the book.

...

The days passed swiftly in a tense and highly efficient rhythm.

Dorg and Nevira truly disappeared into the morning of the Royal Capital just like that.

There was no honor guard, no escorts, and no alarm raised for anyone.

With the most ordinary two-wheeled carriage and two small suitcases, they quietly left without a sound.

Later, in a letter Nevira sent to Esmeralda, she said that they had bought a small house on the eastern coastline where they could see the sea.

Dorg’s daily schedule consisted of fishing, brewing wine, and watching the sunset with her.

The letter also said that his complexion had improved considerably. The blue potion’s effect was immediate. The severe pain that had tormented him for eight full years had completely vanished, and he had even begun to put on weight.

After Sylvia finished reading the letter, she stood silently by the window for a long time. Then she folded the letter neatly and locked it in the bottommost drawer of her desk, the one no one else could open.

At the same time, the new Cabinet centered around her began operating at an almost terrifying efficiency.

The newly appointed Chief Justice Cicero stirred up towering waves within the judicial system. He acted with sweeping decisiveness, his methods ruthless yet professional. The Royal Capital dungeon went from being so overcrowded that there was not even room to stand, to being so empty that echoes could be heard.

On his first day taking over the treasury, the newly appointed Minister of Finance Phoenix discovered that his predecessor had created a full seven layers of false accounts, nearly enraging him into cursing on the spot.

But afterward, he displayed a merchant’s talent that left people in awe. He forcibly sorted out the accounts that had rotted into a complete mess, and by following the trail, he recovered a large sum of stolen money that corrupt nobles had transferred into several underground banks.

Minister of Military Affairs Conrad honestly handed over the authority to dispatch the nation’s garrisons. He clocked in and out on time every day, worked diligently and conscientiously, and did not dare make even the slightest unusual move.

Large numbers of middle-ranking officers from the Northern Territory swiftly infiltrated every key link of the Royal Capital’s city defense system like mercury pouring across the ground.

The news from outside was also reassuring enough.

In the direction of the Western Territory, after Thunder Gorge was blown up, it formed a natural barrier that no army could cross.

The Valeria Empire’s scout teams refused to give up and tested it six times in succession. In the end, each attempt left them battered by the chaotic energy turbulence until they threw away their helmets and armor in defeat.

In the end, they finally had no choice but to grit their teeth and order the whole army to retreat about fifteen kilometers to the safety line.

There would be no war on the western front for half a year.

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