Yes, Madam Prime Minister

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Consort De, of the Lü clan, was the emperor's most favored concubine.

According to etiquette, she shouldn't have come to the palace, much less ask such a question; asking such a question is already considered interference in politics within the inner palace.

But so what? The emperor himself didn't care at all, not because he loved beauty more than his country, but because he didn't have a country at all. What would an emperor without power care about the harem interfering in politics? He would rather have a hundred-year-old confidante willing to come to his harem and interfere in politics to the death, and kill those traitors in the court.

Both advocating war and advocating peace, as well as both protecting the monarchy and co-rule, are not good things.

Unfortunately, Consort De, like him, was only a first-level cultivator.

He's almost thirty, and Consort De is twenty-five. At this rate of cultivation, without any extraordinary encounters, the two of them can only reach the third or fourth level at most in their lifetime. And that's assuming they don't end up like the late emperor, who died suddenly after only a few days on the throne.

"Of course there is good news." The emperor walked to the side, opened the side drawer of his desk, took out two already opened letters, tore off the letter paper, and handed them to his favorite concubine.

Consort Lü knew from the seal on the envelopes that both were secret letters, but she took them and read them without hesitation.

The letter was written by Chen Zuolin, and it mentioned two things: First, Jingxin Daoist, who is also Ambrina's second uncle Sartre and his group, has been able to stably perform cultivation and talent transplants. Second, the Westerner Ronan and his group have also mastered this.

The other letter came from an informant in Foshan, who reported the true identities of Ronan and his group.

After reading the letter, Consort De asked, "What are Your Majesty's plans?"

The emperor replied, "Let's find an opportunity to meet that Taoist Jingxin first. As for that Ronan, we'll talk about him in a few days."

"Huh?" Consort De looked puzzled.

The identity of the Taoist Master Jingxin remains unknown, but as a foreigner who possesses such a secret, his arrival in the East suggests he is probably not a benevolent person.

On the contrary, although Ronan and his group did not reveal their identities, they had no intention of hiding them. Their identities were clear: after all, they were former rulers of a country, and it was unlikely that they had come to Seris to carry out any conspiracy.

Why would someone who looks suspicious choose to meet someone who is at least a decent person? She really doesn't understand.

The emperor smiled and said, "My dear consort, I cannot afford the price of Ronan and his group, but I can afford the price of the Taoist Master Jingxin."

"I see, I understand now." Consort De looked as if she had just realized something.

The Emperor took back the two letters and said gently to Consort De, "It's getting late. My dear consort, you haven't been feeling well these past few days. You should go back now."

"Your Majesty, how about it?" Consort De touched her lips with her finger. She was having her period these past few days, so it wasn't convenient, but there were other ways to try.

"Let's go back," the emperor said again.

Consort De looked slightly aggrieved, "Does His Majesty no longer love me?"

"Hmph, you don't know what's good for you, go away, go away." The emperor dismissed him, but his tone was not reprimanding at all; it was more like that of a loving husband.

Consort De had no choice but to take her leave in a huff.

After Consort De left, a long time passed before the Emperor closed his eyes, clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug deep into his flesh, drawing blood.

After returning to her palace, Consort De dismissed her maids and went to her room alone. She was about to take a book from the bookshelf to read a bit before washing up and going to bed when her expression suddenly changed. Her eyes seemed to have been replaced by someone else's. Then, as if possessed by a demon, she quickly and mechanically pulled off the bed sheet, swiftly pulled out paper and pen from the bed frame, and began writing rapidly on it. She wrote the contents of the two letters she had seen earlier. As soon as she finished writing, the letters caught fire and turned to ashes in a few breaths. In the blink of an eye, the ashes disappeared completely.

Afterwards, Consort De restored everything to its original position. In the blink of an eye, her eyes returned to normal, as if nothing had happened. She then walked to the bookshelf and took out the book she wanted to read.

At the same time, a man appeared in the emperor's bedroom.

The emperor was looking out the window with resentment. "Master, you've arrived."

"Hmm," the man simply replied.

"These beasts! I want them dead!" the Emperor roared furiously. He hated them terribly. These people, after learning certain things, had secretly used magic to manipulate his beloved woman into becoming a spy. If it weren't for his master, he wouldn't have discovered it. As for Consort De herself, she was completely unaware.

The man said, "We still need to be patient."

"I know." The emperor's voice softened, and he no longer referred to himself as "朕" (zhen, meaning "I" or "the emperor").

Showing the letter to Consort De was a way of turning the tables on her.

From beginning to end, the talent transplant was just a pretense to deceive them; that wasn't what he really wanted to do.

Instead, he intends to accomplish something unprecedented during the grand sacrificial ceremony to Heaven on the winter solstice next year: to change this country, no, to change the entire world.

At that time, all those people will die, and a large number of people with eternal talent will be born. Of course, more importantly, he will be empowered, surpass the founding emperor, and become the first person in history to control time, ushering in a brand new era.

"Master, how are the preparations going?" the emperor asked.

“It’s all set,” the man replied.

The emperor gritted his teeth, "One more year, one more year."

"Your subject will take his leave now." The man's words were barely out of his mouth before he vanished.

After a long while, the emperor breathed a sigh of relief, looking in the direction his master had left, and silently thought to himself, "Master, one should not have the heart to harm others, but one must be wary of others. I hope you have no evil intentions."

He was originally an empty emperor who could do nothing but fantasize about himself before going to sleep like those commoners, but the appearance of this man he called his master changed everything.

And because of this man's existence, another extremely powerful person was willing to become his ally as emperor, while secretly guarding against him.

His actions are undoubtedly like dancing on a knife's edge, but if he succeeds, he'll have everything.

"Destiny is in my hands."

Chapter 792 Sleeping, an irreconcilable conflict, a special celebration

While the emperor was silently chanting "Heaven's mandate is in my hands" in the imperial palace of distant Yanjing, thousands of miles away in Foshan, Ronan had already fallen asleep with Ambrina in his arms.

In recent days, Luo Nan has had to deal with Chen Zuolin and the group of people who are too closely tied to him. He has to navigate the complex political landscape of Foshan, a small city with extremely complicated interests, and repeatedly reassure Master Wang and his group. At the same time, he also has to take care of his brother Liu Menglong's feelings and make sure that Liu Menglong doesn't feel uncomfortable in his position as the top leader.

Although such games kept him excited, excitement could only suppress fatigue, not eliminate it.

So, at this moment when things were temporarily over, Ronan fell asleep.

Ambrina was still awake. She stared intently at Ronan's sleeping face, a face that reflected the tranquility of a man who, like a chess player, had achieved a victory and was no longer preoccupied with it, showing no signs of arrogance or self-satisfaction, his mind now empty.

She recalled the moment she first felt a flutter in her heart. At that time, Ronan was just the secretary-general of Wright City. He casually won over the secretaries-general of several other special cities, allowing Dinia to be successfully elected as the mayor of New Sea City after the merger of several special cities. Ronan showed no smugness whatsoever, as if he had won a game of chess that was nothing more than a child's game.

This time in Foshan, it was the same. Ambrina suddenly felt like she was back in the dream when she first fell in love with Ronan. She wanted to kiss him, but she was afraid of waking her husband, so she just quietly went to sleep.

At the same time, along the riverbank, Dinia and her two companions were taking a walk to sober up.

Agustina flicked her fingers and lit the pipe in her mouth. "Captain, have you had enough fun? Seris is even more decadent than the kingdom. We're foreigners, there's nothing we can do. We've spent the New Year here and experienced the local customs, so it's time to leave. After all, we still have to go to the ruins."

Dinia, who disliked the smell of smoke, took two steps away. "Two months ago, I thought the same thing. Don't you guys think Seris is very divisive?"

Elena nodded. "That's true. From what those merchants described about the north, it's like a completely different country from here. The politics, economy, culture, and even the military are all different."

The Imperial Guards in the north were primarily composed of the sons of small manor lords from Henan, Hebei, Shandong, Anhui, and northern Jiangsu, much like the feudal military aristocracy in the West. In the south, the purely conscripted garrisons, with some resemblance to the Fubing system, were essentially just for show.

"Do you remember the conflict between the kingdom's things? Seris, such conflicts will only get worse."

Dinia said.

The contradiction between the east and west of the kingdom is that the western coast is the manufacturing and commercial base, while the eastern inland is the source of raw materials. The people in the east look down on the people in the west, feeling that these unscrupulous merchants and pirates are not brothers who share the same faith in God, and that they should all go to hell to repent.

If Ronan hadn't first consolidated the colony, instead of massacring and enslaving the natives like Villa did, and instead allowed the natives to establish their own nation, forming a caste-based comprador state, then over the next few decades, the kingdom would have continuously won victories in wars, constantly opening up markets, and eventually even hitching a ride on Weyland to open up trade routes to the East.

They've been fighting a civil war for ages.

In reality, several civil wars were fought, but they never escalated into a true civil war.

Why did the South keep rebelling? Just because of Protestantism, or Catholicism? Ha! It's because Mediterranean trade was getting worse every day, while the ports in the west were becoming more prosperous after the opening of new sea routes.

The North also rebelled several times, arguing that their iron should be priced at the international market price.

As for Seris, in Dinia's view, it truly meant that civil war was imminent.

Southern merchants wanted to buy goods from the north at cheaper prices and dump them in the north. After all, it was much easier to exploit one's own people than to go to sea and exploit foreigners. Besides, were foreign markets and raw material bases as big as those in the country?

But those damn Yankees don't want to be exploited.

Similarly, northerners pride themselves on being gentlemen who pass down the tradition of farming and studying, while southerners are all considered petty people. These petty people make money but don't give it to the gentlemen. Is there any justice or fairness in this world?

France is such a small country, only the size of the Serres department. The central government can still act as a fire brigade, constantly putting out fires and making adjustments.

But can Seris do it?

A thought flashed through Agustina's mind, and suddenly she sobered up. "Captain, you and Ronan aren't planning to instigate a rebellion, are you?"

“Tina, don’t talk nonsense. It’s reform. Do you understand reform?” Elena laughed.

“Hey, what time is it? You’re still joking.” Agustina said seriously, “We are Westerners. The Seres can accept us doing business, or even serving as advisors, but they absolutely cannot accept us actually interfering in politics.”

“Tina, do you know what people in Seris call this kind of thinking? They call it being too bookish,” Elena said. Although she came from a family that was practically a mafia family, she was ultimately different from Agustina, who came from a wealthy family. Deep down, she was someone who thrived on chaos. “Precisely because we are foreigners, we cannot usurp power, and because we cannot usurp power, we have the opportunity to support people to rebel, that’s how it is.”

"Alright," Dinia said, signaling the two to stop.

Meanwhile, in a secret base converted from an abandoned Taoist temple in the mountains.

"Haha, that's it!" Canaan exclaimed excitedly as he looked at the blueprints, completely unlike his usual taciturn self. "It's all thanks to you guys for analyzing the characteristics of the Seris cultivation method that I was able to create this."

The magic, or spiritual power, of the Seres is more peaceful, restrained, and orderly than that of Westerners. However, the Seres' cultivation method emphasizes intuition rather than mathematical logic, which results in some Seres being unable to use weapons like magic revolvers effectively.

However, the Seres are better able to wield the magic-resistant armor.

Now, Canaan has comprehensively upgraded the magic defense armor, allowing those below the rank of True Rank to unleash formidable speed and power in a short period of time.

Of course, Westerners can use this thing, but they don't use it very well.

"That's wonderful." Faith's tone was somewhat flat when she exclaimed, which might have sounded sarcastic to strangers, but only those who knew her well knew that she was genuinely pleased.

Falek said, "I think we should celebrate."

"Celebrate?" Canaan asked with a curious look.

Then, Falek pulled out something frightening.

"Does it look that similar?" Canaan asked shyly as she looked at the thing. She remembered the first time she saw Ronan's thing many days ago.

At this moment, Faith smiled and said, "My cooking is pretty good, isn't it?"

This was entirely handcrafted by her, a one-to-one replica of Ronan's thing, except it's a two-headed dragon.

"Are you really coming?" Canaan asked hesitantly.

Falek shook the firm yet elastic thing. "If you don't want to, that's fine with me."

Canaan swallowed hard, her thighs clenched together. "Don't put it in my back." Ever since she lost her virginity in the bath, she had become a little addicted.

Falek covered his mouth and chuckled, "Of course not, the master still needs to reserve your virgin territory."

Chapter 793 Half-Fusion, Destined to Leave a Mark on History, Don't Talk Nonsense

In the blink of an eye, it's December, winter has arrived. Foshan's winter is just like spring in the Kingdom of Fass and the Kingdom of Palisto, a season of lush greenery and blooming flowers.

For Ronan, however, it's stocking season.

At this temperature, slightly thicker stockings are most suitable. This slight thickness, whether white, black, nude, or other colors, will show luster and color variations on different parts of the legs, in different postures, and with different movements. The aesthetic appeal originates from the legs but transcends them.

Early in the morning, Sterling was sparring with Yang Nian.

At this moment, Yang Nian was in a semi-fused state. Her summoned spirit had similar abilities to Zhao Yingqi and also had the same problem: after fusion, she could not use the summoned spirit's abilities normally and could only receive a comprehensive enhancement.

However, this problem does not exist in the semi-fused state; the ability can still be used, and it can even be enhanced to a certain extent.

Ambrina and Isabel might be the same. The reason for using "might" is that in the past, none of the Freigo family descendants who inherited the "spatial summoning spirit" were able to merge with the summoning spirit like other summoning mages.

Another interesting point is that, according to some history that Zhao Yingqi learned from Madam Zhao, the first generation of the Zhao family to possess this extraordinary power was also more than three hundred years ago, in the same era as Oran.

Under Falek's "vision," Ronan figured out the true nature of the semi-hybrid invented by Ambrina.

Its essence is to extract a portion of the summoned spirit's power that is different from one's own magic power and use it as one's own power, similar to how Seris uses the summoned spirit as the so-called power of the soul.

It could also be said that one of the prerequisites for the Seris cultivation method, refining the divine soul, is a kind of permanent semi-fusion. No wonder that on this basis, the Seris cultivation method can easily load the Heavenly Oath Transformation Magic, which is the magic of demonizing a certain organ.

The semi-hybrid invented by Ambrina, an illiterate woman, is a temporary soul refinement.

“Ronan, do you think there will come a day when people can freely use the power of materialization, transformation, divine magic, alienation, summoning, and elements, without having to fulfill all sorts of troublesome prerequisites, and even advancement will no longer require meeting various tricky conditions?” Dinia asked.

Ronan was full of confidence in the future. "Of course, Didi. The development of magic is a process of gradually stripping away its sacredness and mystery. In this respect, Seris was ahead of the curve. A thousand years ago, he was not satisfied with one person mastering only one power. But now it seems to have stopped. Instead, he has added some sacredness and mystery to it, so that people who want to truly learn must be taught by a teacher. Perhaps, in the future, it will be us Westerners, who still have countless fools who are superstitious about religion, who will break through to that point first."

Dinia wanted to continue, but suddenly fell silent because she suddenly sensed a strange melancholy in Ronan.

She didn't understand why Ronan was so melancholy; shouldn't he be proud?

After all, Ronan was a man who had made outstanding contributions to the study and construction of basic magic. He perfected the method of pattern building, allowing many talented people who struggled to grasp the mysteries of magic to construct their foundations using pure mathematical logic. This made it so that the kingdom almost no longer had people like Lady Antari, who were talented but couldn't even reach the level of a novice mage.

Nowadays, magic academies throughout the kingdom and even the entire West have begun to use Ronan's method, instead of teaching students to "find their feel" or "intuition," including when mentoring geniuses. For some geniuses, "finding their feel" is very efficient, but Ronan's method is smoother, has no downtime, and has more staying power.

“In the past, magic could create freely, but it was ultimately limited to a single canvas. Magic based on that old man’s method can be infinitely constructed with an architectural beauty, but currently no one has been able to truly break the limitations. Perhaps Seris’s method could go further back.”

These are the words Astrid said when she was eighteen, and they are also the reason why she insisted on coming to Seris.

The limitations have two aspects: one is broader, referring to the use of more types of magic, and the other is deeper, referring to breaking through the seventh rank limit.

In short, in Dinia's view, Ronan is destined to leave his mark on the history of magic. If one day the West surpasses Seris in terms of supernatural power, Ronan will likely be regarded as the founder of that era.

If that's the case, why feel melancholy?

Only Ronan himself knew the reason, but it was actually quite simple: deep down, he was still a Seresian. Even if he had no feelings for the Seres of this world, he still felt a little bit of familiarity with them.