Fangzhou Xier, starting with failing the art exam

"We still have the Queen's Voice, and the most elite Golden Law Guards! The Twin Towers are enough to withstand an army of 100,000! We haven't lost yet!"

“We have already lost.” Herlinmat turned around.

“We lost the moment you signed that decree and it fell into Lacey’s hands.”

“Those people outside aren’t enemies; they are the people of Letania. How can we suppress them?”

"Using the guards to slaughter the people we are supposed to protect?"

"Even if we kill all the people under the tower, there's still the allied forces from the seven districts of Lacey outside the city!"

"That will be a bloody civil war, and the whole of Letania will fall apart!"

"By that time, even if we manage to protect the Twin Towers and the crown on our heads, we will only become the sinners of the nation."

She paused, then said with a hint of self-deprecation, "Lizelot, we are the monarchs of Letania. Even in leaving this stage, we should retain our final dignity."

"We are crowned with glory, and we should also leave with dignity."

“A futile resistance will only cause Letania to shed more blood and weaken the country’s remaining strength.

“I don’t want us to be recorded in history books as butchers and madmen.”

“Decent? History?” Liselotte let out a neurotic screech.

"Do you still care about this?"

"We are the Queens of Letania! We are the supreme rulers of this country!"

Only the victors deserve to write history!

"I don't care about any cost as long as I can win!"

Liselotte was acting like a madwoman, her eyes bloodshot, and she wouldn't listen to any advice.

"Herlinmat, have you forgotten what we are? We are weapons! Weapons created for victory!"

"How can you surrender without a fight? You coward!"

In her view, Helena's calmness at this moment was a complete betrayal.

She hasn't lost yet, she absolutely cannot lose!

She was created to defeat the Witch King. She has already defeated that man, so how can she lose to a demagogue from humble origins!

“I am not a coward,” Helena said, meeting her sister’s gaze.

“I just came to reality a little earlier than you, Liselotte.”

"Our era has come to an end."

The role reversal happened so suddenly.

The Black Queen, who has always advocated for a hardline approach and believed in iron and blood, was now the most clear-headed person.

The White Queen, who always presented herself as gentle and elegant, tore off all her pretenses and revealed her most obsessive and reckless side.

Just as the two were locked in a tense standoff, an aged but authoritative voice suddenly rang out in the throne room.

“Well said, Helena Hildegard.”

"At least, you still retain a sense of clarity."

Liselotte and Helena were both startled and immediately looked in the direction of the sound.

A figure slowly emerged from the shadows behind the throne.

He wore a simple scholar's robe, had an ancient face, and deep-set eyes.

It was Fremont, the ruler of the Sarkaz Lich King's Court, the professor of magic in Letania, and their "creator".

His appearance was silent and unnoticed.

“Fremont…Professor?” Liselotte called out, her voice trembling.

Fremont didn't even look at her.

“I created you to sever the corrupt roots of Letania, to end an old era and usher in a new one.”

He recalled a night many years ago when he and his close friend Herhunzoren painted pictures of the future under the stars.

They all dreamed of building a strong, unified Letania where people lived in peace and prosperity.

However, his obsession with exploring the wilderness ultimately consumed his best friend's mind, turning him into a reclusive and tyrannical king.

To put an end to that mistake, he, Fremont, personally crafted these two most perfect weapons against the Witch King.

He endowed them with wisdom and strength, and he hoped that the two of them could fulfill the dream that he and Helhunzoren had failed to achieve, and build a truly powerful Letania.

"But I was wrong."

Fremont turned around, his gaze falling on Liselotte, his eyes filled with undisguised disappointment.

“You cut off the dead trunk of Helhunzoren, but you were quickly entangled by the putrid vines of the old nobility.”

"You have learned their schemes, their checks and balances, their arrogance and prejudice, but you have forgotten the original purpose for which you were created."

His gaze swept over Lizzielot's pale face.

“You are indifferent to the suffering of the people, blind to the deep-seated problems of the empire, and focused only on maintaining your fragile rule.”

"On the contrary, the young man you regard as a major threat, the 'peasant' who comes from a humble background and has been suppressed by all means you have used, is doing what you should have been doing."

Fremont's voice turned cold: "You are no longer fit to lead this country."

He delivered the final verdict.

"No!"

Liselotte let out a scream of despair; the long-suppressed emotions and the despair she felt at that moment caused her to completely lose her mind.

She suddenly drew her ceremonial sword from her waist, the long sword symbolizing "eternal grace," its tip pointing directly at her creator.

"I am the Queen of Letania! You cannot..."

Her words stopped abruptly.

Fremont merely glanced at her indifferently.

An invisible force instantly enveloped Liselotte.

She felt as if a mountain was pressing down on her, and she couldn't even breathe.

The longsword in her hand let out a mournful cry of unbearable strain, shattering inch by inch from the tip, turning into powder that slipped from her trembling fingers.

The immense force pressed down on her, causing her knees to buckle and her to collapse heavily to the ground.

She tried to struggle, but found that she couldn't even move a finger.

"Weapons must be treated with the awareness of weapons."

There was not a trace of pity in Fremont's voice.

"When you can no longer fulfill your mission, you are just a pile of useless scrap metal."

Herlinmat closed her eyes, unable to bear the sight of her sister's tragic state.

Fremont stopped looking at Liselot kneeling on the ground and turned to Helinmat, who was silent to the side, with a rare hint of approval in his eyes.

"At least you know how to cut your losses, so it's not a complete failure."

Herlinmat clenched her fist, then slowly relaxed it.

She didn't refute, but just smiled bitterly.

Stop loss?

What does it matter when everything is lost?

……

Holy Lytanian Empire: Chapter 82: A Feast of Food and Drink to Welcome the Royal Army

The road to Triinttelme has been transformed into a grand celebration.

Lacey rode on his horse, and behind him was a torrent of allied forces from seven regions: Vaser, Shiton, Kepranya, and others.

However, the expected resistance did not materialize.

All the towns along the way had their gates wide open.

Countless people spontaneously took to the streets, erupting in deafening cheers.

Waving homemade red flags painted with sickles and axes, they gave the army that had come to liberate them the warmest welcome.

"Long live Elector Lacey!"

"Welcome the people's army!"

People's faces were filled with heartfelt joy and excitement. They stuffed homemade bread, water in earthenware jars, and fresh fruits into the hands of every passing soldier.

The soldiers were somewhat at a loss.

They anticipated fierce battles, street fighting, and siege warfare.

The only thing they hadn't anticipated was this scene.

An old woman with a wrinkled face tremblingly stuffed a roasted potato into the hand of a young soldier, her cloudy eyes glistening with tears.

"Good children, you've finally come..."

The young soldier looked at the potato in his hand, then at the faces around him beaming with genuine smiles, and suddenly felt a lump in his throat.

He gripped his weapon tightly, realizing for the first time with such clarity what he was protecting.

Taylor walked beside Lacey, looked at the scene, scratched his head, and had a smile on his face that he himself didn't realize.

Even this man, who bleeds but never cries, had tears welling up in his eyes.

For the first time, he felt that a victory without gunfire was... not bad at all.

"Boss, this is much more impressive than when we stormed into Eisenville." He chuckled.

"It seems your propaganda pamphlets and radio are more effective than any weapon."

"The weapon of thought is always more powerful than the weapon of steel."

Serafina approached with a smile. Dressed smartly, she was busy coordinating the deployment of various troops to ensure that the residents would not be disturbed.

"The will of the people is the strongest and most impregnable wall."

Gertrude led her intelligence personnel to quietly take over key locations in various cities, ensuring that no remnants of the old forces could cause trouble at this time.

Lacey walked at the head of the procession, enveloped by the cheers of the crowd.

He smiled and waved to the people.

……

The army marched into Trinitylme without hindrance.

The city's garrison had long since laid down their weapons. They stood on both sides of the street, silently watching this army, whose equipment was so different from their own but whose spirit was completely renewed, with complex expressions in their eyes.

The army arrived at the foot of the Twin Towers.

This once unattainable symbol of power now stands wide open, quietly awaiting its new master.

“Something’s not right,” Gertrude urged her horse forward, lowering her voice.

"It's going too smoothly. None of the Twin Towers' defenses have been activated. This is unusual. Be careful, it might be a trap."

Lacey reined in his horse and looked up at the towering twin towers that seemed to reach into the clouds.

He could feel the enthusiasm of the people, and he could also sense Gertrude's vigilance.

But a strange peace settled in his heart.

This was the last dignified act, or rather, the last helpless act, under the inevitable trend of the times.

"Let's go in."

He dismounted and, accompanied by Taylor, Gertrude, Serafina, and a squad of elite guards, ascended the steps leading to the throne room.

The throne room door was ajar, and Lacey reached out and pushed it open.

When the door was pushed open, everyone was slightly taken aback by the sight before them.

Queen Liselotte knelt on the ground, trembling and distraught.