After being forced to step down, the once-annoying nun eloped with me.

Elves can live for a very long time. The longest-lived elf is said to be nearly two thousand years old.

In this context, what happened to elves hundreds of years ago might actually be equivalent to what happened to humans ten years ago.

Humans would go to great lengths to search for a baby who was abducted twenty years ago, let alone elves.

The problem is that human lifespan is far too short.

The elves' hatred is as fresh as yesterday, but to humans who have lived for hundreds of years, they only feel that the elves are judging them based on the sins of countless ancestors, which is utter nonsense and a completely unreasonable murder.

Elves, however, are a race that keeps its promises.

Even if the Remnants were to fanatically believe that their husbands' killers were followers of the Church of Light, the Elven Kingdom could not break its promise before finding direct evidence.

But even if we find evidence, so what?

The culprits of that year are dead, and their descendants believe they are innocent citizens who should not bear the responsibility of their fathers. Some may not even have survived, and the one who inherits the title may be a deacon who was educated and promoted in an orphanage.

For the resentful "Broken Branches," however, the agonizing pain and rage of centuries past remain vivid. They cannot forget the agony of discovering their husbands' bodies, nor the fury that followed the realization that their husbands had been murdered by a traitor. Their love for their husbands has been completely transformed into hatred for the betrayer, yet the spirits, bound by their promises, are unable to provide evidence to aid their people.

It seems that the perfect race of elves is indeed outdated—their outdated adherence to all promises and their ancient traditions have led to the distortion of the [Broken Branches] in blood and tears, transforming them into the form that Yang Hao and the others witnessed.

[Broken Branch] still yearns for revenge. The elves will not harm their own kind, so they can only restrict their movement and send respected elders to comfort and persuade them.

But if those elderly people themselves can't escape the vicious cycle of racial sentiment, how can we expect them to resolve the inner problems of "Remnant Branch"?

"So—it's completely rotten now."

When Arthur said this, his face was filled with bitterness and relief:

"To be honest, if the elves hadn't kept their promises, or weren't so stubborn about their feelings, the 'Broken Branch' wouldn't have been born... But elves are such an awkward 'perfect race,' and beneath their seemingly perfect society lies a honeycomb of holes..."

This is one of the core reasons why Fen hopes Your Majesty can come and preside over the reforms—if the Elves do not carry out social and racial spiritual and cultural changes, their already sparse population will soon be on the verge of collapse due to the increasing number of [Broken Branches].

In peacetime, things are fine, but in times of war, especially during parish invasions, the number of "trailblazes" inevitably increases. She hopes you will bring about changes in how the elves cope with war, but she also hopes even more that you will change the very nature of the elves.

Having said that, Arthur had finished his delicious meal.

After realizing that beneath the elves' perfect exterior lay a wealth of outdated flaws, Yang Hao could only ponder in silence and came to a realization.

Even from the elves' perspective, this is not a problem of change that can be solved by short-term governance.

The elf actually wanted to remain the regent of the elves forever.

......

They silently enjoyed the food, which had lost its flavor in their mouths.

Yang Hao's notebook was filled with more and more plans and ideas crossed out in ink.

Finally, he came up with an idea:

"It's better to guide than to block."

War with the parish is now a foregone conclusion.

If the [Remnants] could be recruited for military training while minimizing casualties, they would indeed be resolute and fanatical soldiers. Since they believe that the killers of their husbands were predecessors of the Church of Light, let them go and kill the humans of the Church of Light to vent their anger.

Moreover, this wasn't just a practice during this war; the Elf Kingdom would also have to declare war on the dioceses in the future.

However, this is a strategy of "declaration without attack," using the appearance of "no fighting on the front lines" to buy time for domestic development while using the fact that "war has already begun" to appease the remaining forces. But perhaps this is for the best.

Under the threat of war, the cohesion that erupts from a race is unparalleled.

Back then, Yang Hao's sworn brother united all the tribes on the plains in the name of their common enemy, the barbarian tribes.

So this time, it was extremely easy for the Elf Kingdom to gather the recognition of the marginalized "Remnant Branch" in the name of the parish's enemy.

...This is why Yang Hao had to consider the emotional deficiencies of the elves.

They seem incredibly stubborn now. In a sense, this is a good thing, but for some, it's definitely a bad thing.

The most typical example is Arthur in front of us.

"Are you really okay with so many elves watching you?"

In response to Yang Hao's concern, Arthur simply shrugged.

"It's alright... [After I marry Viya, I will definitely contact them regularly], which is a promise I made to them in order to get them to give up their fighting with each other—in a sense, as long as I continue to dance with swords like this, Viya will be fine."

"So Viya broke your leg?"

"After all, the one who most wants to fight them to the death is Viya, so to avoid bloodshed, I had no choice but to exchange my leg, right? It's better for a man to lose a leg than for a dozen women to secretly fight each other until only one is left... Sigh, Your Majesty, I'm not saying this to be mean, but being liked by one elf is fine, but being liked by a dozen elves at the same time, that's really going to be the death of you."

"...You've worked hard, Arthur."

"Thank you. But Your Majesty, I think you might have an even harder time than I do in the future..."

Faced with his subordinates' advice, Yang Hao felt a chill run down his spine for some reason.

He suddenly realized that not only Arthur, but he himself seemed to be being targeted by a high-ranking elf. That elf had granted him the position of regent, and seemed to be subtly implying that he could rule the elven kingdom as an equal...

......

Being loved by elves is, in a sense, not necessarily a good thing.

He was lost in thought as he cleaned the bowl of vegetables that had gone cold.

Mother Teresa, who had finished eating, simply watched quietly.

A wondrous light shimmered in his eyes.

Chapter Twenty-One: The Queen Within the Walls, Dialogue in Isgard, New Industries in the Parish

On the same day, within the territory of the Roman Empire.

The Empress's voice came from behind the curtain. The cold command emanating from her clear voice, along with the emphasis on the empire in the command, was not something a little girl could say.

In the order, the Empress, in her own name, demanded that nobles in the eastern and western regions pay taxes to provide more money to the national treasury for food to refugees, which was also a form of suppression.

After all, in the Roman Empire, anyone associated with nobility was hardly a good person. All nobles had some kind of stain on their reputation, and the Empress's emphasis on the nobles of the eastern and western regions actually indicated, in a sense, that she supported the nobles of the north, central, and south—which relieved the representatives of the nobles in those three regions. Although the representatives of the eastern and western nobles looked displeased, they couldn't show their displeasure in the palace.

They could only swallow their anger and accept the Queen's orders, while the peasants who had crowded the square outside, listening to her commands, let out cheers that could never reach the palace:

"That's wonderful! The Queen still loves us!"

"We're saved!"

Amid the clamor of cheers, some insightful individuals looked troubled, for they saw that the Empress's order would only further divide the Roman Empire.

The Eastern nobles controlled 80% of the Roman Empire's silver mines, while the Western nobles, though not as wealthy, provided the Roman Empire with a large number of warhorses and livestock due to their vast ranches.

The nobles of both regions were distinguished in the previous wars... They not only possessed strength, but also had a widely known reputation. Most importantly, they had already exerted considerable effort in this drought.

The west provided a large number of pigs and a small amount of grain when the drought occurred, while the east did its best to mine and replenish the national treasury with silver—as a result, the two noble groups that contributed the most are now being suppressed, and any normal person would feel resentment because of this.

"This country is probably doomed!" those with foresight shook their heads amidst the cheers of the crowd. Not only is it doomed, but it might also fragment into a situation even more divided than during the tribal era.

"It would be better to make the regent emperor..."

The hidden complaints disappeared amidst the clamor of cheers.

And this cheer was definitely not what the little queen wanted, but what Prince Gassen wanted.

"...Your Highness, as you instructed, I have had [her] issue the order." His head maidservant returned to Garsen immediately after finishing her court session. "Nobles from the East and West who do not belong to our interest group must pay the price—this is your instruction."

"Yes. After all, the national treasury is short of money to purchase grain, and the taxes paid by the nobles in the east and west this year are less than one-tenth of what they paid—humph, don't be fooled by their claims of how much they love this country; in reality, they haven't even paid enough."

As Garsen recounted the events, he took a sip of fine wine and began to ponder the various events of this most difficult period in the Roman Empire.

Undoubtedly, the arrival of the Isugard caravan is a shot in the arm for the Roman Empire—Drek Harbor has already ordered a large amount of grain from Isugard, and when they come again, they will bring the Roman Empire the high-quality grain needed for brewing, helping the Roman Empire to weather this severe drought.

However, high-quality food could not be distributed directly to the refugees. Garsen planned to mix it with sawdust, some expired food that had been ground into powder, and some soil—doing so that one serving of high-quality food could feed a dozen people. More importantly, only by doing so could the noble officials in charge of distributing the food be deterred from their greed for relief grain.

It was precisely because birds of a feather flock together that Garsen understood the nobles' nature. These nobles had plenty of grain reserves and didn't care about rotten food at all, but the disaster victims would stuff rotten food directly into their mouths—so in order to prevent the grain from being embezzled, it was necessary to make it "rotten".

Jason felt a surge of wisdom welling up in his mind. He believed he was far smarter than his brother, who only knew how to wage war and play politics. In high spirits, he drank a few more glasses of wine.

Then he remembered something...

How is my niece doing now?

"It's still as quiet as ever. The former presiding judge is also quiet."

“Very clever. Then, six months from now, after the drought ends, we need to find her a husband so that she can carry on her noble bloodline... We need to prepare a potion to help her conceive in advance. After all, one offspring is not enough; the more offspring the better, and preferably all of them should be women.”

"Is the intention...to arrange a marriage alliance?"

“Yes. The Sea Kingdom of Alese, who previously purchased some lathes and steam rifles from our steam factory, seems to want to form a royal alliance with us... but one niece is not enough. The Roman Empire needs another target.”

Alessar was an island nation on the other side of the sea that made contact with the Roman Empire through its port.

Not long ago, they spent a fortune to buy the weapons of the steam-powered rifle unit left behind by the Regent, and they also bought the lathes and other equipment from the dismantled steam factory that couldn't be disposed of. Thanks to them, the Roman Empire has been able to hold on until now and has the funds to buy grain from Isgard at this time.

But that was a long time ago—now the money is almost gone, and it is indeed necessary to trade with the Alessars again.

But a marriage alliance... the throne still needs the young empress to sit on it, and she still needs to be a target. So Garsen won't consider marrying the young empress off for the time being.

On the other hand, it's acceptable to have someone else marry into the family.

In any case, all Garsen needs is the bloodline of the little empress. He'll have as many children as he can, even if they die in their thirties or forties. She has already fulfilled her responsibilities as a puppet and in ensuring the continuation of the royal bloodline.

In order to get a higher price, we need to invite people from other countries only after the drought in the Roman Empire ends... and the price of the potion also needs to be calculated carefully, along with other things...

Prince Garsen seemed to be making some thoughtful plans.

On the other side, inside the palace, after court, this was the only bedroom where the young empress and the former chief justice could move freely.

The former presiding judge sighed as he carefully wiped the sweat from the little queen's face with a cool towel:

"Sigh... another tough day. A bunch of idiots can't see that Garsen is the mastermind behind everything, and you've become the target of everyone's ire once again..."

The young empress made no comment, only shaking her head.

"Even if we don't care, it's getting harder and harder for us to survive in the palace... Garsen just needs you to sit in this position. I understand now why His Majesty is so hated when he sits in this position... Sigh."

After wiping the sweat from the little queen's face, the former presiding judge helped her remove her heavy first formal attire and change her into lighter clothes.

Although they had almost no contact with others in the palace and their freedom of movement was very limited, their lives were not too difficult, at least as Garsen still needed the little queen.

When they have nothing to do, they can stroll around the courtyard. And while moving around in the courtyard, the former chief justice can use the opportunity of serving the little empress to secretly make contact with outsiders.

...

She actually doesn't trust outsiders.

But those were elves with long ears.