Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

Finnubar sat up straight, his previously relaxed posture instantly tensing up. His face almost undisguisedly revealed an expression that said, "If you're going to talk about this, I won't be sleepy anymore," and even carried a hint of anticipation for a good show.

“If you ask Walter what his biggest regret is, I think…” Darkus paused slightly, his tone deliberately drawn out with a hint of amusement, “he would probably say, ‘Not coming with me on the adventure to Elsin Alvin?’”

Finnubar nodded.

He knew very well that Dakos had only been to Elsin Alvin once.

“I’m reminded of our first adventure on the continent of Lustia.” Darkus’s gaze drifted slightly, as if he were returning to that scene. “You might not know, but his leg was already somewhat inconvenient.”

His expression gradually became somewhat bizarre, but his tone became increasingly relaxed.

"Then, he was stung hard on his already weak leg by a venomous blood wasp the size of a bird. What's that? A good leg to kick a cripple?"

“For a long time afterward, the cane was no longer sufficient for his needs,” Darkus continued, his tone a mix of reminiscence and amusement. “The thoughtful Naika had no choice but to make him a walking stick.”

After saying that, he didn't stand up and walk around in a circle to imitate Walter's gait, but instead chose another way. He extended his right hand, raised his index and middle fingers, and tapped them lightly in the air, like two little legs, walking one in front of the other.

As Finnubar listened, his face gradually flushed from initial restraint. When he saw Darkus's merciless gesture, he instinctively raised his hand to cover his mouth, trying to appear as dignified as possible even though Walter himself wasn't present.

However, his slightly trembling shoulders betrayed him.

But when it came to Darkus's side...

He had completely lost control and burst into unrestrained laughter. The laughter echoed in the restaurant for a moment before gradually subsiding. He then sighed softly, turned his gaze to the window, and his expression became calm.

He knows a lot of eccentric people.

The term "eccentric" here is not used in a derogatory sense, but rather refers to those who do not follow conventional wisdom and do not conform to the logic of how things develop.

Kalion was one of them.

A complete idler, as Lyma's chosen one, he did absolutely nothing all day. But whenever Darkus gave him a task, he would do it, and do it exceptionally well. He and Adrell accomplished a remarkable feat in the breeding and training of the hounds, and he even personally captured the Lyma beast.

"Lymar the Beast" is just a title, not an abstract concept. It refers to the war hydra that has been active in northern Nagarus for a long time, a real "big guy".

After being captured, this multi-headed snake was in for a treat.

Because of its enormous size and uncontrollable nature, it cannot be brought to the battlefield unless...

Since that's the case, then enjoy the good life (breeding).

After being captured, Karien acted as if nothing had happened, continuing to do absolutely nothing. Anyway, his master, Jaeger, was handling things at the military academy.

Now, with the advent of vehicles, Karien has found a new goal for himself—to become Darkus's driver.

Dakous could only respect this decision.

I'm even a little envious?
That was a lifestyle of prematurely entering retirement, something he knew clearly but could never achieve.

Dorian was that kind of person too.

“Dorian, there’s no need for such sweet talk. I can assure you, there are very few like you. That’s why you stand before me now. Now is the time to bestow your reward upon you. Do you have any needs? Just tell me.”

"Your Majesty, I would like to serve as Lord Darkus's adjutant."

Dakous always remembered this conversation between Malekith and Dorian.

Although it was a political opportunism and a choice born of desperation, it was remarkable that they dared to say those words at that time...

This is especially true of Walter.

Malekith didn't approve of Walter and always harbored obvious suspicion towards him; not to mention the elite circles of Duruci, almost no one truly accepted him, making him quite an outcast at the time. Walter himself never really aspired to the position of Night Watchman in Ashriel—all he wanted was to be by Darkus's side.

Ultimately, it was Darkus who, under immense pressure from all sides, almost forcibly pushed Walter into that position.

According to Darkus, Walter's psychological state was somewhat lacking. He had an unspeakable dependence on him, perhaps seeing him as a father figure, or a substitute for an older brother?
Like to be a father?
Even Dakota himself couldn't explain this, but he could perceive it very intuitively.

“The School of Political Science and Law?” Finnubar suppressed the urge to burst out laughing, his tone subtly rising.

Dakos nodded, which was taken as agreement.

Walter wanting to return to his side is fine in itself, but he must still shoulder all the responsibilities that come with it. In fact, this arrangement is better; it's like establishing a tradition in the process.

The transition from official to professor, or vice versa, makes the academy a "resurrection point," an institutional transition zone.

"I'm in charge of the preparations, as the deputy head," Dakous added.

It can only be secondary, never primary.

From a certain perspective, the students are equivalent to "disciples of the emperor," a position that only the Phoenix King can hold.

This time, it was Finnubar who nodded. He had previously heard Darkus mention that, barring any unforeseen circumstances, Lorthen would only establish one institution—the College of Law and Politics.

A landmark building.

Just like when you mention Safranbolu, the first word that comes to mind is definitely: White Tower of Hols.

Then, Dakotas began a speech that was almost chanting.

"Law, Jurisprudence, Legal History, Constitutional Law and Administrative Law, Criminal Law and Criminal Procedure Law, Land Law, Civil and Commercial Law, Economic Law, Intellectual Property Law."

"Specialized legal disciplines, including investigation, criminology, criminal justice, supervision, and forensic science."

"Political science, public administration, and sociology."

"Humanities, Journalism and Communication, Foreign Languages, Diplomacy."

“That’s very much in line with the political and legal system,” Finnubar commented when Dakos finally stopped.

These disciplines will form the overall framework of the School of Political Science and Law, supporting the daily operation of the entire elven society. It is simply unacceptable for an official to be ignorant of the law, and even if one does not pursue a political career after graduation, one can become a judge, prosecutor, lawyer, or engage in other law-related positions.

The decree ordered the Black Knights to be led by Malekith, which would later become a tradition—directly led by the Phoenix King.

The Black Knight's system will not undergo major adjustments in the future.

Want to become the Black Knight?

Want to join the ranks of knights?
Go join the army first!

Becoming a soldier is the most basic requirement. During service, one studies, takes exams to qualify, and is promoted to Black Knight, which is the military police. After retirement, one can become a police officer or pursue further studies at a law school.

A complete and self-consistent path was thus formed.

Political science is an indispensable part of the School of Political Science and Law; otherwise, how could it be called the School of Political Science and Law?
As for whether those elves who graduated from art schools are still willing to go to Avalon to prove their worth before the Eternal Queen, that is a question between them and the Eternal Queen.

But there is one thing the Phoenix King must firmly control!
Publicity.

Scripts, plays, and publications must be approved by the Lingyu Institute and may not be performed or printed privately. All publicly disseminated content must conform to the established guidelines.

In the Duruci society, no one would give a child a name like "Satheras," which sounds like friction and hissing.

Simply because the name is so famous.

Satheras is not a real person, but the name of a protagonist in a popular storybook. In this storybook, Satheras is a mother of commoner origin, with a mean and arrogant personality, exuding a cold aura that keeps people at a distance.

As the de facto head of the family, she made a series of foolish and disastrous decisions, turning household affairs into a complete mess. Her influence on neighbors soured, her husband's reputation was tarnished, leading to his transfer, and her five children, under her pressure and control, were either driven to madness or committed suicide; the only one left has practically disappeared.

And her ending was equally tragic...

Although the story seems to subtly allude to or satirize Moras, given that the author was Moras's former "best friend" Anna Sara, both the author and those in the know insist that it is not true!
Don't talk nonsense, it'll cause trouble!

After Trudeau entered the new era, society was filled with various anxieties and imitations.

Many women are influenced by Anna Sara, identifying with her or even deliberately imitating her, as if that were the way to establish oneself in the new era. However, not everyone can become Anna Sara; she possessed talents, opportunities, and a keen sense of opportunity that are difficult for ordinary people to attain.

Blindly imitating others often results in chaos: family discord, investment failures, social breakdowns, and personal misery.

Thus, at Dakota's behest, Anna Sara wrote this story entitled "Satheras." It takes the perspective of ordinary people, and the whole story is about everyday life, mundane matters, seemingly trivial, yet incisive and poignant.

Its core value is to tell those mothers who are confused in the new era, especially those who are trying to fight for the right to speak in the family in the wrong way.

Managing a household requires wisdom and warmth, not tyranny and control; the dignity of a family is built on mutual respect and joint maintenance, not on one person's dictatorship; true strength lies not in overpowering family members, but in uniting them.

It is a sobering warning wrapped in a tragic story: if you don't want to become like Satheras, you need to learn rationality, tolerance, and true responsibility.

After its creation, this story became widely popular and became an alternative "textbook of family ethics" during Trudeau's period of social transformation. It silently reshaped many people's understanding of mothers, wives, and homemakers during their leisure time.

In Ulthuan, the insult for someone of low birth is Fañol, while in Nagaroth and Aishriel, the insult for a woman is Satheras...

If you insult each other face-to-face, the most likely outcome is that the two will end up in the boxing ring.

There are many, many stories like Satheras's in Trucchi's society.

In other words... the artists' Achilles' heel has always been firmly held by the Phoenix Royal Court.

The Eternal Queen's approval is a social and spiritual recognition; while the Phoenix King's approval means a complete release of resources, dissemination, legitimacy, and real-world influence.

Foreign languages ​​and diplomacy are important, but not that important?
The various departments have different levels of status, among which foreign affairs are of paramount importance and can almost be regarded as the most important of all departments.

It is important because the Trucchi system did not have a traditional Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Diplomatic power was centralized and held by Dakous himself. Although there was no separate ministry, this did not mean it was unimportant; on the contrary, it was precisely because it was extremely important that he personally controlled it.

Just like the fiscal system.

To some extent, Ausuan's swift, even somewhat inexplicable, conquest of King's Landing was directly related to Darkus's control of diplomacy.

This was more of a comprehensive diplomatic victory than a simple military conquest.

This is precisely the fundamental reason why diplomacy is so important!

Otherwise, at this very moment, Finnubal would probably already be the eleventh Phoenix King, leading Otsuan, Asul, and Duruci in a fierce battle, instead of sitting here calmly discussing future personnel appointments with Darkus.

The reason it's considered unimportant is due to its magnitude.

Aside from the lizardmen, the elves didn't have many true diplomatic allies: closer ones included Bretonnia, the Sigmar Empire, the southern city-states, the Mountain Dwarves, and the North Dwarves; further afield were Sauron on the other side of the planet, and perhaps Nebon.
Because of Darkus's existence, there was absolutely no need for traditional diplomacy between the lizardmen and the elves.

The two sides are practically inseparable.

According to Total War: Trade Agreements, Military Access Rights, Defense Alliances, and Military Alliances should all be maxed out.

In addition, there are trading towns.

After that, at most they would set up a lizardman consulate in Lorthorn.
But upon closer examination, it seems somewhat impractical. The telepathic abilities of the Sran Priests don't even cover Lorthorn; if they were to establish such a system, it would be better to place it in Chapeyuto rather than Lorthorn.

However, out of respect and for symbolic significance, perhaps it should still be done as he envisioned when he stood on the walls of Lorthorn.

Built in the style of the Lizardmen, the complex is centered around a pyramid, surrounded by low temples and a circular gallery of stelae, forming a group of buildings that are both ceremonial and administrative.

In this way, it can serve as both the official residence of the lizardmen in Ulthuan and a highly recognizable landmark in the city.

It satisfies both sacredness and ritual, while also taking into account practicality and display.

This would allow elves living in Ulthuan, or those from other places, to directly experience the relationship between elves and lizardmen, and incidentally... increase tourism revenue?
Among other diplomatic partners, only Aurora can truly be considered significant.

As for other races?

It was not taken into consideration.

Darkus could confidently say: Everyone here...

Besides the issue of scale, there is another more practical factor – communication.

In an era with underdeveloped communication, diplomacy was essentially a turn-based system. It involved give and take, a gradual game of strategy, much like the pace of the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods.

In addition, there is another unavoidable issue—sea power.

In Darkus's definition, the vast ocean belongs to the elves. Neither humans nor dwarves should possess true ocean-going capabilities. On this point, Darkus fully agrees with Master Ma's understanding of the "Grand Plan."

Stay within the designated area of ​​the ancient sanctuary, instead of wandering around aimlessly.

Hmm... although that may not be the exact meaning, it doesn't seem wrong to interpret it this way?
After all, if you can run around aimlessly today, you can establish a settlement tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow...

That's often how things get out of control.

Countries like Bretonnia, the Sigma Empire, and the southern city-states, when they need to communicate with the elves, usually contact the elves' local consulate directly, where the consul will sit down and discuss the matter.

As for truly significant matters, they are handled through other channels, via magical communication, with the elves sending the information back to Ulthuan for local judgment.

Well, at most, they might set up a consulate for Aurora in Lorthorn as a symbolic expression of respect for the civilization at the other pole of the world.

Then, nothing more.

Diplomacy should be done, and a system should be in place, but the scale is just so-so.

This does not conflict with the fact that the elves later play the role of world police and beacons.

“I’m prepared to make an exception.” With that thought, Darkus suddenly spoke up.

"Oh?"

"Allow humans to appear in Lorthorn."

Finnubar did not respond immediately.

He fell silent, his gaze lowered slightly, as he quickly reviewed a set of established political consensuses in his mind. He did not believe that Darkus meant allowing humans to enter Lorthen for trade, or even to settle there.

Just as he had initially thought.

This involves the balance within the elves.

That would directly undermine the hard-won understanding and compromise between him, Darrowland, and Moralion. According to the previous negotiations, the starting point for the elves' foreign trade would be Tal Iris, and that city would be developed into a trading city and hub.

Even if humans did appear in Ulthuan, they would only appear in Tal Iris, and never in Lorthene.

If that's not what you meant...

He quickly thought of another possibility.

The moment the thought formed, his eyes lit up, and a meaningful smile curved his lips. "Let humans take on menial jobs, things the elves are unwilling to do? Use Lorthene as a pilot?"

Upon hearing Finnubar's words, Darkus's expression clearly changed. First, he was surprised, then astonished, and then he raised his hand, pointing at the person with the husky-like gesture.

"how?"

Seeing Darkus's reaction, Finnubar spread his hands in bewilderment, his tone carrying a sense of entitlement.

“Actually, I’ve thought about that too,” Darkus readily admitted. Then, as if casually mentioning it, yet also as if deliberately setting the stage, he asked a question, “By the way, do you know what high magic and low magic are?”

"The Great Invasion?" Finnubar answered almost reflexively.

“Yes, but I have a more specific one…” Darkus paused halfway through his sentence, then, seeing Finnubar raise his chin to signal him to continue, he continued, “Legend has it that two thousand years ago, Belanar unleashed a giant fireball, instantly annihilating the enemy. After that…”

At this point, he shook his head, sighed, and then extended the index finger of his right hand.

“A flame appeared on his index finger.” After saying this, he deliberately made his fingertip tremble slightly. “And the one who told this story was the Supreme Demon Swordsman. He said these words and made this gesture while telling the students.”

"Hiss..." Finnubal gasped, instinctively lowering his voice, "This is high magic?"

He froze as soon as he said it.

He quickly realized something was wrong; this conclusion seemed somewhat counterintuitive.

"Low magic?" he added tentatively.

"You've already said both high magic and low magic," Darkus said, a hint of helpless teasing in his voice.

Finnubar gave a slightly apologetic smile.

"Holding his graduation certificate, he wasn't happy; instead, his brow was furrowed, and he was filled with uncertainty about his future." Darkus suddenly raised his voice, and his speech quickened. "Just then!"

The sound startled Finnubar.

Darkus was clearly very satisfied with the effect and burst into laughter.

"Holy crap, that scared me!"

Finnubar's elegance crumbled instantly, replaced by the swearing of an old sailor, and he even deliberately mimicked Darkus's tone in his reply. However, he quickly realized his lapse, coughed lightly, and composed himself.

"what's next."

“His roommate opened the door, came to the bed, packed his things, and looked like he was about to leave.” Dakous slowed his pace. “He asked, ‘Where are you going?’ His roommate said, ‘I passed the interview.’ Hearing this, his brows furrowed even more. Because he knew where his roommate had gone for the interview.”

After saying this, Dakota stopped talking and just looked at Finnubar.

“Continue!” Finnubar, completely engrossed in the story, couldn’t help but urge, “Stay at the magic academy? Join the army? Or…”

Dakos shook his head.

"They are sanitation workers."

"Sanitation workers?"

Finnubar made a classic expression, like an old man on the subway looking at his phone.

“They say it’s about managing the city’s appearance,” Darkus explained, raising his hand and casually fanning the air as if sweeping. “But you can think of it as… cleaning the streets, using magic.”

Finnubar was stunned. After a long while, he slowly exhaled, as if he had finally figured something out.

"This is true high magic!"

“I’ve thought about introducing humans, but it’s too early. Things in the future…” Darkus shrugged. “Let’s take it one step at a time. Now is not the time to set up policies for managing outsiders. That’s a problem for the Empire when it’s mature. Right now, the Empire isn’t even in its infancy.” He paused here, his tone becoming more certain. “Besides, this matter doesn’t require looking ten steps ahead, let alone a hundred.”

"So you mean?" Finnubar frowned slightly, quickly searching for the remaining possibilities, "to allow humans to study in law and political science academies?"

He really couldn't think of another explanation.

Darkus pointed at people again, like a husky.

"is this necessary?"

Finnubar instinctively asked a question, but his thoughts had already begun to wander on their own.

Previously, his idea of ​​bringing humans to Lor'theon was not only for trade considerations, but also, on a deeper level, for the hope that the presence of humans would revitalize Ulthuan.

Conflict, friction, and contrast are all catalysts for the self-renewal of civilization.

But now, it's no longer necessary.

At this moment, he became conservative instead.

"Please put yourself in my shoes, my dear Finnubal," Dakota suddenly changed his tone, taking on a persuasive quality.

"How do you substitute?" Finnubar raised an eyebrow.

“Think about it.” Darkus’s voice softened. “You are a human, a nobleman, born in Aldorf. You grew up listening to stories of elves saving Aldorf, and taught yourself Elsalin, mastering the basic vocabulary, writing, and pronunciation rhythm.”

He spoke slowly and deliberately, as if he were laying out a stage piece by piece.

“You have expressed to your parents more than once your desire to visit that legendary land. And your parents, after paying a large sum of money and pulling strings, finally secured for you the opportunity to study in that legendary land, the lighthouse of the world.”

Darkus slowly constructed the scene.

"So, what would your first reaction be?"

"Excited? Happy?" Finnubar followed the character's lead, his tone tentative. "So excited you can't sleep? Telling every friend about this miracle?"

“Very good.” Darkus nodded, quite satisfied with the answer. “Next, you will board an elven ship and sail towards Lorthorn. When news of your imminent arrival arrives, rush onto the deck!”

His voice gradually rose, like the prelude to a symphony.

"What comes into view is the city the world longs for, Lorthene!"

"The harbor is like a honeycomb woven of silver, filled with ships as graceful as sea monsters; statues gleam in the morning light, depicting ancient epics you have never read; spires pierce the clouds, their tops shimmering with magical light; skyscrapers are built of white stone, layer upon layer, like giant vines growing on a cliff; and those legendary wonders, like treasures casually left behind by the gods, adorn the skyline."

At this point, Dakos suddenly spread his hands out like a conductor of a symphony orchestra, as if he were to instantly unfurl the magnificent panorama of the entire city before his eyes.

Finnubar did not answer immediately.

He first subconsciously recalled the magnificent capital of the human empire of Aldorf from his memory; then he superimposed it with the vision of Lorthen described by Dakous, which incorporated future plans.

"hiss……"

He gasped, as if his eyes had been truly burned by the imagined splendor.

"Perhaps..." he said slowly, "that I might shed tears of excitement? And after finally setting foot on land, perhaps even want to kneel down and kiss this legendary soil?"

“Continue.” Darkus narrowed his eyes, a satisfied expression on his face, and steered the narrative to its core: “You entered the School of Political Science and Law, beginning your academic journey.”

Finnubar was not dull-witted; he had already understood what Dakota truly wanted to express.

He had readily available examples right beside him.

His second son, Bell Eihol.

Although the locations are different, the underlying principles are exactly the same.

This is a systematic, in-depth value transformation.

Order is beauty, and beauty is sacred.

Everything I saw silently confirmed this.

From the precise, chessboard-like stacking of cargo in the port, to the seamless splicing of street paving stones, with even the direction of the gaps remaining consistent; from the constant and steady rhythm of the runes flowing through the tower, to the almost instinctive courtesy of citizens when walking, talking, and giving way to each other.

Everything silently proclaims: chaos is ugly, and disorder is inefficient.

The ability of elves to bring all things into harmony is itself a manifestation of the highest level of civilization.

This "beauty of order" is not instilled through preaching, but rather permeates the senses like air, gradually reshaping cognition. True power is not a wild outburst, but a precise, constant, and repeatable control.

Like the movement of stars, it does not deviate from its course, yet no one can shake it.

A temple of knowledge and a ladder to wisdom.

In college, you learn more than just cold, hard legal texts.

What you encounter is a system of precedents spanning thousands of years, a debate technique that is progressive and logically rigorous like geometric proof, and a formula for social operation formed by the elves after fusing morality, tradition and practicality into one.

In the process of learning, human learners will gradually realize that the laws of the elves are not only rules, but also an epic masterpiece on how to build and maintain an ideal society.

It constantly proves one thing: wisdom can not only be systematized, but should also be enshrined and become the supporting structure of civilization, rather than a fleeting flash of personal inspiration.

Elegance is power, and restraint is glory.

The elven instructor spoke with precision, never raising his voice, yet instantly silencing the entire lecture hall; the debates among the students were as fierce as clashing blades, yet they always adhered to strict debating etiquette, and even greeted each other afterward, as if it were not a conflict, but a demonstration of skills completed together.

The venting of emotions is crude.

True persuasiveness stems from cold logic and impeccable demeanor; restraint is not weakness, but rather the strength to store energy in more subtle ways.

This "power of elegance" will gradually become a fatal attraction, causing human learners to subconsciously despise the rude behavior of slamming tables and shouting, and substituting volume for argumentation in the old world.

When elves discuss policies, they often measure them in centuries; when they build a garden, they consider not only the immediate aesthetic effect, but also the shape of the trees, the direction of the branches and leaves, and the placement of light and shadow in different seasons a thousand years from now.

This perspective of longevity, which transcends individual life, can make human learners feel a subtle anxiety about their own race's shortsightedness and instinctively yearn to become part of something grander and more enduring.

More importantly, being allowed to study here is itself a form of screening and recognition.

Human learners will unconsciously distinguish themselves from their compatriots who remain in the old world, begin to measure things by the standards of the elves, and become accustomed to judging value by whether it is elegant, sustainable, or can withstand the test of time.

They will realize that they are among the few whose light from the 'lighthouse' truly shines upon them.

This sense of belonging, coupled with the firsthand experience of the superiority of civilization, fosters a deep and unwavering loyalty.

This is no longer just a pursuit of knowledge, but an affirmation and devotion to this ever-shining civilization itself.

After Finnubar finished thinking, Dakota continued.

"Imagine what happens when you return to Aldorf with your diploma..."

What he sought was precisely this subtle and pervasive value orientation. When this human nobleman returned home after completing his studies, he would take with him not only a diploma, but also a whole set of elven worldviews and methodologies deeply ingrained in his heart.

He will become a living embodiment of "elf thinking" in the Aldolf court, an unconscious spokesperson for a beacon of civilization on foreign soil.

This is a bond stronger than any treaty, a conquest more profound than any warship!
Finnubar pondered for a moment, a clear and sharp light gradually emerging in his eyes. He spoke slowly, his tone filled with realization and shock.

"I understand! This isn't about training scholars, it's about sowing seeds!"

“Each such student is a seed that has been exquisitely transformed. When they return to their homeland, they will take root and sprout in the soil of power and knowledge, quietly weaving the elves’ concepts of order, ways of thinking, and aesthetic standards into their own social structure.”

“They will become admirers of our system, defenders of our standards, and even…”

He paused here, lowering his voice slightly.

"Conscious defenders of our interests?"

After saying that, he gasped again.

If this mechanism is replicated on a large scale...

Darkus curled his lip, a smile somewhere between sarcasm and smugness playing on his lips. The smile was devoid of warmth, more like chewing on a toy he had long since seen through.

To put it bluntly, his body is still in Aldorf, but his soul remains forever in Lorthorn.

He paused slightly, as if searching for the most suitable point to end his next words.

"In his eyes, even the farts of elves smelled sweet and were rhythmic, with three parts. He could even elaborate on this fart and write an interdisciplinary paper on aerodynamics, social etiquette, and philosophical implications, citing numerous sources and classics."

At this point, his smile vanished abruptly, and his gaze became sharp and cold.

“But in reality… it’s just a fart!” He paused for a moment, deliberately emphasizing the last word. He leaned forward slightly, his elbow resting on the table, his voice lowering as if sharing a dark and alluring secret.

"Think about it, what happens when this human enters the decision-making level..."

His speech slowed down, but it became even more imposing.

“He would subconsciously use the Elven decision-making model to assess risks in cabinet meetings; he would find the Empire’s system crude and push for the adoption of the ‘more elegant and eternal’ Elven design standards; he would feel an instinctive impatience with his compatriots’ ‘shortsightedness’ and ‘disorder’ and try his best to introduce Elven administrative processes to ‘improve efficiency’.”

His gaze lingered in the air, as if those scenes had already unfolded.

“When the interests of the two countries clash, his first reaction will no longer be imperialism.” He tapped the table lightly. “Instead, he will unconsciously use his implanted ‘beacon civilization’ yardstick to measure right and wrong, and the end of that yardstick will always point to Ulthuan!”

He leaned back in his chair, making a barely audible sound as his fingers rhythmically tapped on the armrest, as if drawing a small period to this silent calculation.

"And the most wonderful thing is that he will never think that he has betrayed humanity!"

"On the contrary, he would firmly believe that he was leading his compatriots toward a 'higher level of civilization' and saving the empire from 'ignorance' and 'chaos'."

His tone even carried a hint of admiration.

"He will become our most devout believer and our sharpest blade, a blade that they themselves forge, grasp, and wield, willingly paying any price for."

Darkus looked at Finnubar, his eyes flashing with the clarity unique to a controller, and a hint of undisguised cold humor.

“So, we’re not training international students, Finnubar.” He chuckled softly. “We’re training generation after generation for the future world…”

"Spiritual Elf!"

He paused, his tone becoming low and firm.

"This is the truly terrifying light of the lighthouse. It doesn't burn your eyes, but it directly rewrites the way you see the world." (End of Chapter)