Chapter 37: Will You Become the Elves’ Regent? 

That night, as Fen settled back onto her throne after an afternoon of rest, her faithful servant Kenna approached with a message, “The Regent wishes to meet her.”

“Oh? At such an hour… Hehe, seems like he’s been captivated by the stories in the press. He’s quite eager for our clear answer, isn’t he?”

With her golden hair and blue eyes gleaming, Fen smiled wryly, crossing her legs in a relaxed, unrefined manner that she reserved for times in Kenna’s company. This casual demeanor, an exclusive display for her servant, was a sign of her absolute trust and also a way to alleviate the weight of her racial duties.

Kenna refrained from commenting on her mistress’s informal posture. Instead, she pondered if the news circulating in the streets and newspapers was orchestrated by Fen.

Responding with a casual shrug, Fen said, “I simply relayed the answer to a question that has been inconspicuously troubling His Excellency the Regent, nothing more than that. According to our scouts, it’s evident that the Regent still cares deeply for the young Empress. It would be too cruel for both of them if he spent the rest of his life not knowing the truth, unable to feel either hatred or fondness for her.”

“So, in essence, it’s about providing the Regent with a justification and the drive to align with Gaparia, right?”

“Exactly. I won’t deny it. But then again, this also serves to aid him, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed it does.”

Fen had a deep understanding of Yang Hao’s history. His battles side-by-side with the previous Emperor, his tragic fall to a sinister plot, and his enduring love for the young Empress.

He truly cared for the young Empress as though she were his own daughter. This deep affection made the silent exile incident all the more painful for him. He harbored resentment towards those who betrayed him and felt gratitude towards the court official who provided information. Yet, he was utterly perplexed by the silent little Empress.

For any parent, the ultimate despair was betrayal by the child they hold dearest. 

At that moment, the Regent’s face was a mask of deathly pallor, his heart torn with indecision.

Should he hate this child who had forsaken him as a father, seek to understand her, or find it in his heart to forgive her?

It was likely that His Excellency Yang Hao was still grappling with this dilemma. He remained in the dark about why the young Empress remained silent, why she left him in such despair.

Thus, Fen offered him a resolution. She provided an answer that would liberate him from his turmoil, his entanglements, and his uncertainty.

“Hehe…”

Fen, with her golden hair and blue eyes, let out a soft laugh, “This is hardly manipulation. Rather, we elves have been of significant help.”

Furthermore…

If he desired a tranquil life in the Elven Kingdom, it was crucial for the kingdom to withstand the ferocious enemies from the Diocese. Both morally and practically, the elves were compelled to do whatever it took to make him the Regent of the Elven Kingdom.

Fen’s smile swiftly turned solemn.

Even if this shifted the elves’ reputation from paragons of virtue to cunning deceivers, it was a change that must be embraced.

The elves must undergo a transformation at any cost. Without this change, even if they survived the current invasion, within the next two decades, they would once again be victims of a demonic calamity, sacrificed in the name of being a perfect race.

The cost was irrelevant. The change was a must.

“Please have him wait a moment. I’ll join him after changing my clothes.”

“Understood.”

With a graceful and ethereal exit, Fen left to prepare herself.

She had to return to her chamber for a meticulous grooming session. It was crucial not to leave a bad impression on the potential future Regent.

***

At the same time, in the grandest reception room of the Green Courtyard, Yang Hao and Teresa awaited Fen’s arrival.

Teresa instantly perceived the fleeting change in Yang Hao’s demeanor. She too was shocked that the barbarians of the Roman Empire could descend to such depths of cruelty.

Had they merely used magic or physical force to silence the little Empress, Yang Hao might not have been so intensely disturbed. However, they chose a method almost worse than death to mute her. They severed her tongue.

The horror of tongue severance. Teresa thought with a bitter heart. In the Roman Empire, to lose one’s tongue meant not only enduring severe pain but also losing the joy of savoring delicious food forever.

Even more troubling, the Roman court seemed to have reveled in their de-regentization campaign. Now, there probably wasn’t even a chief doctor from the Red Cross within the palace.

The absence of a chief doctor meant that the little Empress’s tongue wound might not be healed properly.

Although the court might have had traditional physicians or healing mages secretly tend to the little Empress, such treatments were only stopgap measures.

Garson was indeed a monstrous beast, as revealed by the divine scans.

With a deep sigh, Teresa tightly clasped Yang Hao’s right hand.

“The silver lining is that, for now, the little Empress’s life is still safe. Moreover, here among the elves, we have magic capable of regenerating limbs.”

Teresa comforted the man beside her, whose eyes were red with bloodshot veins, hoping her words might bring him some semblance of calm.

“As long as she’s still alive, we have the opportunity to bring her here for treatment. This is no ordinary magic. It can regenerate even magical organs. Compared to that, regrowing a tongue is trivial.”

“I must kill that bastard.”

Yet, Teresa’s words only deepened Yang Hao’s fury, his teeth clenched in wrath.

A tiger does not devour its own cub. Once, Yang Hao had faith in the moral limits of the humans of the Roman Empire.

He had resigned himself to being a pariah, alone and vulnerable, with only Priscilla potentially caught in the crossfire, but not to any outrageous extent.

He truly hadn’t anticipated that Garson would be so depraved as to lay hands on his own niece, and to go as far as cutting off her tongue.

Reflecting further, the death of his sworn brother now seemed increasingly peculiar. Back then, distanced from his brother’s cavalry, he couldn’t keep constant vigil over him. Still, it was improbable. 

How could his brother have perished in such a crucial battle, forcing Yang Hao to grit his teeth and unify those tribes, and forge an empire?

And the veiled truth behind the accidental demise of his brother’s widow. That woman, ever gentle and resilient until her last breath, maintained an unwavering faith in her brother-in-law, convinced that he would not harm the last two members of their family.

Garson… Garson!

The rage in Yang Hao was so intense he felt as though he might grind his teeth to dust and swallow them.

It was this very trust in his brother-in-arms’ widow, during those times of relentless toil, scarcely spending more than three days a month in the palace, that led Yang Hao to regard Garson as a person worthy of his consideration.

It was precisely because Yang Hao saw Garson as a human that he believed the little Empress would only be at risk of deception, not cruel treatment.

How could anyone have envisioned such a harsh reality? 

Who would have thought that the empire he had built with his sworn brother would repeatedly sink below his lowest expectations of morality?

Such a thing was unimaginable.

Yang Hao now lamented why he had ever bothered to build a nation for these ingrates, instead of resigning and fleeing with his sister-in-law and the little Empress. But what good would it do to dwell on these thoughts now?

The immediate priority was to devise a plan to rescue the little Empress. No, the first step was to verify the accuracy of the information with Fen. Though nearly overcome with anger, Teresa had helped Yang Hao remember the risk of being swayed by misleading intelligence.

To avoid being duped by false reports, he needed to seek confirmation from Fen. Elves might not lie, but it was possible they could unknowingly spread misinformation as truth.

For now, his focus was on verifying the truth.

He took a deep breath and unconsciously tightened his grip on Teresa’s left hand, striving to regain his composure.

It was at this exact moment that the door across from them swung open.

The most prestigious and secluded reception room in the Green Courtyard featured two entrances.

One door, used by guests, was situated nearer the exterior.

The other, leading inward, connected to Fen’s personal living quarters, an area known as the Garden Courtyard or “Fen’s Courtyard.” This sanctuary, shrouded in mystery to most elves, was an even greater enigma to humans like Yang Hao.

The inner door swung open, heralding Fen and her attendants’ arrival. Before Yang Hao and Teresa could even react, a slender, flawlessly elegant figure behind the door greeted them with a light chuckle.

“Please forgive my tardiness. After all, changing into formal attire does take a considerable amount of time.”

Fen was an elf whose beauty was excessively perfect, even by elven standards.

Her ears were delicately pointed, her hair a short, efficient golden cascade, and her emerald eyes seemed to twinkle mysteriously in the dim light.

She wore a royal gown that was modest by elven standards, yet it gracefully enhanced her figure and beauty. Regrettably, her bust was a minor disappointment.

If Teresa’s bosom were akin to large loaves or rolling hills, Fen’s could be compared to gentle knolls on a plain. This contrast only served to accentuate her petite charm.

Teresa internally was torn between pity and envy as she observed the elf, who stood barely at eye level with her, even in high-heeled shoes, momentarily bewildered.

Yang Hao, ever so direct, wasn’t preoccupied with the elf’s allure.

He inhaled deeply and, following a swift bow, got straight to the point, “Esteemed Fen, I come to you with a request. I’ve been informed by the elves that the Roman Empire’s little Empress has suffered a brutal mutilation. Her tongue has been cut out?”

“Yes, Your Majesty Yang Hao, it is true,” Fen replied, her voice musical, as she regarded the man whose face turned ashen at her confirmation. “It’s a grim and disheartening reality, and indeed, we have credible evidence and witnesses to corroborate this fact.”

“Evidence and a witness?”

“As for the evidence, you might find it hard to believe right now. But the witness, you surely know her. Natalia, the former Chief Judge of the Roman Empire. She was the one who saved you from being executed on the spot during the Silent Exile Incident. Since then, her career has plummeted, demoted to a maid, and subjected to the scorn of her enemies. It’s because of this demotion, though, that she had access to the little Empress and uncovered this heinous truth.”

Natalia was in a sense, Yang Hao’s lifesaver.

Reduced to a palace maid, she had labored tirelessly, tending to the little Empress who was unable to eat on her own.

During this period, an elven ranger managed to infiltrate the palace, establishing a covert connection with her. She relayed the harrowing plight of the little Empress to Fen of the elves.

Once Fen brought up the Chief Judge’s name, Yang Hao felt almost certain about the information’s veracity.

He was just holding onto a thread of hope. But then Fen mentioned the presence of a ventriloquist headmaid in Prince Garson’s service, dashing his final hope to pieces.

‘Garson, how dare you commit such an act?!’

Yang Hao was engulfed in anger and self-loathing. He was desperate to rush back and save both the little Empress and the chief judge. However, he was without an army, weapons, or any support.

How was he to challenge the Roman Empire, face down Garson, stand against the nobles and landlords, defy the ecclesiastical warlords, and extricate the little Empress from the palace?

The Roman Empire, despite its decline, was still a formidable force in the region. It might collapse in this year’s drought or cling to life like a tenacious centipede for years, yet none of this implied Yang Hao had the means to stealthily enter and rescue the little Empress.

The teleportation network he had painstakingly created now ironically stood as the largest barrier in rescuing the little Empress. Why had he ever devised such a thing?

Yang Hao’s torment was nearly palpable, barely concealable. Teresa, who had been tightly holding his hand in anxious concern, felt his grip strengthen as she exchanged intense looks with Fen.

Fen, displaying a resolute demeanor, met Teresa’s gaze, now disguised as a nun, the erstwhile Purple Princess. Sensing perhaps that the moment was ripe, or maybe fearing that any further provocation could push Yang Hao into despair, Fen took a moment to breathe deeply before gracefully taking her seat on the throne.

“I believe, Your Majesty Yang Hao, that you may require some assistance,” she said with a smile, her eyes on Yang Hao, who was engulfed in anguish, as though she was observing a prized elven relic.

She was acutely aware of Teresa’s guarded stance, but undeterred in her resolve to steer the elves towards radical change, whatever the cost. 

“A proposal from the elves.”

“I am no longer the regent. I cannot live up to that title anymore. And until now, we’ve been under your generous hospitality, we genuinely have nothing to offer in exchange with the elves.”

Yang Hao’s desolate sigh was secretly a source of delight for Fen. This was the opportune moment, the ideal chance.

Embracing this thought, Fen, with a reassuring smile, made a proposition under Yang Hao’s intent gaze.

“Would you consider accepting the role of Regent of Gaparia, thus paying the price necessary for the rescue of the little Empress and the Chief Justice?”

Her look, filled with a longing uncharacteristic of elves, fixed on Yang Hao.

In Teresa’s eyes, Fen was no longer merely an elf but resembled a sly, opportunistic jackal.