Extraordinary Rise: Starting Contract with the Silver Dragon Countess

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Princess, the last descendant of the Arcane Empire, the sole ruler of the newly reborn empire of the Lost Lands, Her Majesty the Empress!
These three identities combined were enough to make Mavis's heart tremble.

After experiencing the initial shock, the profound grief, and the heavy sense of fate, Mavis's emotions gradually calmed down.

She didn't answer immediately, but simply leaned quietly on Cohen's shoulder, letting his warm and firm chest convey strength and warmth.

Time seemed to flow silently, yet also seemed to stand still.

Countless images flashed through Mavis's mind: her childhood with Melantha under Belmody's care, the hardships of training and growing up in the Mysterious Continent, the difficulties and dangers of lurking around Sal, and the bits and pieces after meeting Cohen.

Now, standing at the crossroads that will determine the fate of a continent... all the past seems to have been given a completely new meaning under the astonishing identity of "the last descendant of the Arcane Empire".

It turns out that the inexplicable familiarity with the ancient runes of the Lost Land, the extraordinary magical talent and comprehension, and the deep-seated, ineffable sense of belonging and excitement towards this land... were not without roots or source.

Her bloodline was deeply imprinted on every inch of dust and every crack in the ruins of this land thousands of years ago.

After a long silence, she took a deep breath and nodded firmly:

"Okay, I'll do as you say!"

There were no grand and impassioned vows, no hesitant excuses.

Mavis raised her head and looked at Cohen. The complex confusion, sadness, and shock that had been in her purple eyes were now replaced by a deeper light.

“I accept.” She added three more words, her voice still a little hoarse, but no longer trembling, each syllable clear and strong, “For… my parents, for Melanza, and for this land that should belong to our family, and all the creatures on it.”

As Cohen gazed at the brilliant flame in her eyes, a great weight lifted from his heart, and an indescribable sense of admiration and pride welled up within him.

He knew he hadn't misjudged the person.

Mavis not only possesses the bloodline to match this identity, but also the intellect and courage to steer this destiny.

He lowered his head and placed a gentle kiss on her smooth forehead, as if it were a silent coronation.

However, this solemn and historic moment was soon disrupted by a subtle ambiguity.

Only now, as her emotions calmed down and her reason returned, did Mavis belatedly realize that she had been leaning naked against Cohen's chest ever since she excitedly sat up.

The cool air caressed every inch of her exposed skin, and the sensations that had been ignored due to her emotional turmoil were now vividly reflected back into her brain.

Mavis's stunning face flushed bright red instantly, the color spreading to her ears, neck, and even her delicate collarbone, which was tinged with an alluring pink.

She instinctively tried to curl up and pull the slipped silk quilt over herself, her movements as flustered as a startled rabbit. Where was the composure and determination she had shown when she first decided to accept the throne as empress?

She tried to break free from Cohen's embrace, but Cohen's arm around her waist tightened slightly, preventing her from doing so.

My gaze lingered there involuntarily.

The beautiful scenery before my eyes is more breathtaking than any rare treasure.

Her snow-white skin, flushed slightly pink with excitement and shyness, shone like fine white jade under the dim, ambiguous bedside lamp, its surface gleaming with a warm and delicate luster.

Because of the struggle just now and the current posture, the beautiful curve of her back is fully exposed, her waist is so slender that it can be grasped in one hand, but her hips draw a breathtaking full arc.

A few strands of sweat-dampened black hair clung to her smooth shoulders and back, adding to her disheveled yet deadly allure.

Her flustered and blushing appearance at this moment was a stark contrast to her usual shrewd, capable, aloof, and elegant image.

Instead, it reignited the flame in Cohen's heart that had been suppressed by serious matters.

Cohen's Adam's apple bobbed, and the color of his deep eyes darkened, a dark current surging within them, even more intense than the night outside the window.

Instead of letting go, he used the same position as he was holding her waist, and with a gentle pull of his other hand, he pushed her back down onto the soft bedding amidst Mavis's unexpected gasp.

Cohen leaned over her, looking down at her stunningly beautiful face flushed with rosy cheeks, the snow-white curves of her skin inspiring endless imagination.

A smile, intensely aggressive and wicked, curled at the corners of his lips. He deliberately lowered his voice and whispered in her ear, "My... Empress. Your subject has come..."

Mavis felt a surge of electricity shoot from her tailbone to the top of her head, leaving half of her body numb.

Mavis rolled her eyes at Cohen:
"I...I can't help but suspect that you're telling me all this, pushing me to the position of some empress, just to satisfy some despicable and strange desire in your heart...Ugh!"

She didn't finish her sentence.

The solemnity and awe of discussing the nation, the world, and ancient bloodlines just now have all transformed into a fusion of emotions...

The change in their identities did not create distance between them, but rather catalyzed a kind of... and exciting tension.

Outside the window, the lights of the endless cities gradually went out, and the Milky Way was serene.

Inside, the coronation ceremony for the newly crowned empress's first night was quietly taking place in a different sense, in the most enthusiastic manner.

The blueprint for the future empire has been sketched in his mind, and the ancient bloodline has been awakened. At this moment, she is just his Mavis, blooming with the most beautiful and real charm beneath him.

The long night seemed to have only just begun.

……

The Endless City-State, the core area of ​​the ruling government, the highest council hall.

At the front of the hall, ten tall chairs were arranged in an arc, with high backs and intricate carvings, symbolizing the authority of the highest decision-making body in the Lost Lands—the ten seats of the Supreme Council.

At this moment, ten key figures who will determine the future of this vast land are already seated in the ten chairs.

The first thing that catches the eye is a middle-aged man with a plump figure, ruddy complexion, and a warm smile.

He wore an exquisite deep purple velvet suit, with several rings on his fingers inlaid with large gemstones. He looked like a businessman, but his eyes were as shrewd as a hawk's.

Sebastian Conrad, the head of Unicorn Trading Company, controls nearly 30% of the transcontinental trade and logistics lifeline of the Lost Lands, and his trade network even extends to other regions of the continent.

He is a symbol of wealth and circulation; beneath his affable exterior lies a capitalist ruthlessness capable of crushing any opponent.

Beside him was an elderly man with a thin face, dressed in a simple linen robe.

He held a simple walking stick that was neither gold nor wood in his hand, and his eyes were peaceful and profound, as if he could see into people's hearts, yet he also had a compassionate temperament.

Dominic Reed, the contemporary Pope of the Fallen Church.

Despite its name, the Fallen Church is actually the most widespread, most numerous, and oldest faith organization in the Lost Lands.

Its doctrines are complex and inclusive, and it has an unparalleled appeal among the people.

He is a leader of spirit and faith, whose words can move the hearts of millions of believers.

Next was a serious-looking old man in a suit and tie, with his hair neatly combed.

Ilya Taivo, head of the Taivo family.

The Taiwo family is not a traditional noble family, but with its banks, vaults and intricate financial network throughout the Lost Lands, it has built a vast financial empire whose influence has permeated every corner of the Lost Lands.

He is the embodiment of finance and credit, seemingly unassuming, yet he controls the economic lifeline of the entire Lost Land.

The fourth was an old nobleman dressed in a classic aristocratic suit, his chest adorned with various ancient medals, and whose demeanor was subtly arrogant.

Duke Adrian Solari, head of House Solari.

Their family history can be traced back to the earliest recorded period in the Lost Lands, and they control vast fiefdoms, ancient mineral veins, and generations of accumulated connections and prestige.

They represent traditional nobility and land resources, and have an almost obsessive attachment to "orthodoxy" and "bloodline".

The last one, sitting on the far right, was a bald, burly man with a physique as imposing as a bear.

Dressed in a leather hunting outfit that allows for easy movement, with the outlines of various deadly weapons faintly visible at his waist, he was taciturn, but an aura of fierce bloodlust was hard to conceal.

Gustav Nilsson, a tycoon in the arms trade, is said to be involved in nearly half of the illegal and legal arms circulation in the Lost Lands.

It has intricate relationships with various armed forces, mercenary groups, and even certain clandestine forces.

The five men—Conrad, Reed, Taiwo, Solari, and Nilsson—sat side by side, their demeanor solemn and composed.

They represent the five most powerful and deeply rooted forces among the native powers of the Lost Lands: wealth, faith, finance, landed nobility, and military power.

They are beneficiaries of the old order and local strongmen who survived the Saar era. They may cooperate or compete with each other, but when faced with "outsiders" and the moment when deciding the future supreme power, they can often form a subtle understanding and alliance.

Their gazes were calm, some with the scrutiny of businessmen, others with the profundity of sages, others with the reserve of nobles, and still others with the ruthlessness of arms dealers, as they looked across the long table at the representatives from all sides gathered below.

On the other side of the long table, opposite them, were five other chairs, and five people sitting on them.

In the very center, at the focal point of the entire curved table, sat a young man with black hair and black eyes.

Just sitting there casually, he naturally exuded an aura of profound composure and absolute control. His eyes were calm and deep, as if they could absorb all light and sound.

He has many titles, each one enough to command the utmost respect and admiration from everyone here.

King Efein, Lord of Shadows, King of War, Son of Prophecy, Lord of the Endless Alliance, husband of the most beautiful woman on the continent, son-in-law of the wealthiest family on the continent, lover of the next Elf Queen, consort of the Central Empire, lover of the Queen of Ceylon, favorite of the Duchess of the Red Dragon, one of the restorers of the Night Rose family, Holy Son of the Starry Clan, the first crowned strongest Silver and strongest Gold in history, the first ninth-tier transcendent to defy the legendary rank... and yet to be announced—the new generation Pirate King, husband of the Princess of the Eastern Empire, close ally of the Tide Clan chief of the Mermaid Clan, etc.

But at this moment and in this place, he has only one identity—the supreme will that will guide the future of the Lost Land!
To Cohen's left was a stunningly beautiful woman, exuding an air of nobility and the dignified grace of someone accustomed to a high position.

At this moment, he was looking down slightly, playing with an exquisite seal ring in his hand.

Grace Tang, the eldest princess of the Eastern Empire, has become a pivotal member of the Supreme Council due to her exceptional political wisdom and the influence of the Eastern Empire behind her.

To Cohen's right was an elf whose appearance did not belong to Grace.

Wearing an elegant, elven-style long dress, with a gentle and graceful demeanor, Windsordler Windrunner, Princess of Cohen, is the representative of the Winged Elves.

Further out, there was a perfectly mature woman wearing a dark purple classic dress, her charming face shrouded in purple mist.

Belmod Vineyard, former Lord of the Mysterious Continent, a legendary witch, is a tremendous deterrent and variable in her very existence.

He is knowledgeable and unpredictable, and is one of Cohen's most mysterious and powerful supporters.

Directly opposite Cohen, in the position directly facing the five local giants, sat a woman who was unforgettable at first glance.

Her appearance was so exquisite that it resembled a work of art meticulously crafted by an elven artisan, exuding the noble air of an elegant artist.

At this moment, she was dressed in a silver-white women's dress that was both dignified and accentuated her perfect figure. Sitting there quietly, she seemed to be the focus of the entire hall, attracting countless gazes, both open and hidden.

Mavis Tinuvel, once the top intelligence officer in the chaotic continent, made great contributions to overthrowing Thrall's rule.

Now that his identity has been revealed, he has joined the Supreme Committee with his abilities, achievements, and indescribable charisma, and is one of the key figures at today's meeting.

These five individuals—Cohen, Grace, Windsor, Belmody, and Mavis—form the other half of the committee. They are closely associated with Cohen and are the core force driving change in the Lost Lands and fighting against the remnants of Thrall's forces.

To some extent, it also represents a "new order" and "external influence".

The ten-member committee, though clearly divided, is temporarily brought together by a shared goal and mutual checks and balances.

Below the seats of the ten-member committee, in a much larger hall, more seats were arranged in a fan shape according to status and influence, and at this moment, almost every seat was occupied.

Next to the committee seats, though of slightly lower status, were two separate chairs.

Sitting on one of the tables was a burly man with a wolf's head and a human body, whose eyes held a haughty yet scrutinizing gaze.

Torwald Kayya, former Lord of the Night Moon Continent and leader of the werewolf race, chose to submit to Cohen in the face of the crisis of his race's extinction.

His wolf riders were an important mobile force within the Supreme Council.

On the other seat sat a handsome man dressed in classic aristocratic attire—Lucius Aragell.

Former ruler of Twilight Continent, a vampire prince, representing a mysterious and powerful vampire force.

They are considered the most important "second tier" of forces outside the core circle of the Supreme Council.

Further on were representatives of the various factions that had once dominated the Lost Lands, gathered together, numbering nearly a hundred:
There were city lords or governors from various relatively independent and autonomous city-states, who represented relatively stable populations, handicrafts, and rudimentary civilized societies.

There are representatives of the orderly floating islands with unique ecology and resources, who possess certain special products of the lost land;
There are powerful tribal chiefs or shamans who have survived in harsh environments and maintained ancient traditions and independence; they represent the most primitive and resilient forces.
There are guardian families who have protected certain ancient ruins for generations and possess lost knowledge and secrets. Their knowledge is related to the history and future of the lost land.
There were also some maverick, powerful individuals who refused to belong to any major power; they were also invited to attend in their individual capacities.

These people were dressed in luxurious clothes, or in simple attire, or exuded a powerful aura, or were unfathomable.

They may have a blood feud, or they may have cooperated before, or they may be complete strangers to each other, but at this moment, everyone held their breath and focused their attention on the ten seats in front of them.

Especially Cohen, who sat in the very center and became the focus of the entire event.

The hall was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

The air was filled with a complex atmosphere of tension, anticipation, suspicion, ambition, unease, and longing.

For the first time in history, representatives of all the well-known forces in the Lost Lands, those who wield real power and resources, have been able to set aside past grievances and lower their guard to gather together for a common goal.

Without a doubt, the sole core issue of this meeting, which brought together almost all the minds and forces of the Lost Lands, was—nation-building!
How to establish a nation?

What if we could unite these long-divided and lost territories into one country?
How can we get those forces that disregard the rules and advocate chaos and independence to willingly become part of a country?

What is the system of the newly established state, and who is the monarch?

How should the interests of all parties be distributed?

Countless questions, like heavy lead weights, weighed on the minds of every participant and hung beneath the dome of this ancient hall.

All eyes were on the young man sitting in the center, waiting for him to give an answer.

Cohen's gaze slowly swept across the entire room, passing over the five local tycoons with their deep-set eyes, and then over the nearly one hundred faces below, some familiar, some unfamiliar, all filled with expectation and calculation. He slowly spoke:
"Everyone!"

The calm and clear voice, though not loud, seemed to possess a strange magic, instantly spreading to every corner of the silent hall and attracting everyone's attention.

"We have gathered here today for one purpose only."

Let us find a new path for our homeland, for this land that has endured so much suffering yet never yielded!

As Cohen delivered his clearly "setting-the-tone" words, everyone's spirits lifted, and their gazes became more focused on the head of the table.

The meeting was naturally chaired by Cohen himself, and the first item on the agenda was to introduce the attendees.

Although those invited here are all powerful figures or important representatives, most of them have heard of each other or even had dealings with each other.

However, having one's identity, title, the power and resources represented introduced so formally and publicly in front of the Supreme Council and representatives of all forces has a completely different meaning.

This not only confirms the "legitimate" seats and voices of all parties in this founding conference, but also implicitly establishes a new order and hierarchy.

Cohen's voice was steady and powerful as he introduced the ten Supreme Committee members in turn:
"...Sebastian Conrad, President, representing Unicorn Trading Company and Lost Lands Commercial Distribution Network."

"...Pope Dominic Reed, representing the spiritual faith of the Fallen Church and the millions of believers in the Lost Lands..."

Each time someone was introduced, the local tycoon whose name was mentioned would either nod slightly, remain expressionless, or reveal a formulaic smile.

But their gazes were deep and unfathomable as they silently observed Cohen, the other committee members, and the reactions of the people below the stage.

Cohen then briefly introduced two important figures from the "second tier," Tolwald Kayya and Lucius Aragell, as well as the city-states, floating islands, tribes, ruins, or powerful figures representing the nearly one hundred factions in the audience.

This process was lengthy but essential, lasting nearly an hour.

Every representative of the forces whose names were called, regardless of the size of their power, stood up straight with solemn expressions, as if at this historic moment, their names would be remembered along with the future of this land.

The lengthy but necessary identity verification process finally came to an end, and the atmosphere in the council chamber grew increasingly tense.

Everyone knew the real drama was about to begin. Cohen didn't waste any words; his gaze swept across the room again, lingering briefly on the faces of the five local tycoons, before he slowly spoke:
"Now, let's begin the first formal agenda item of this meeting."

However, the content of this "first item on the agenda" left many people in the audience looking surprised.

After Cohen finished speaking, he turned directly to Dominic Reed, the Pope of the Fallen Church, who was sitting not far to his left, and nodded slightly in acknowledgment.

Pope Reed's face showed neither sorrow nor joy.

He slowly took out a thick stack of scrolls from his linen robe.

The scroll looked quite old, with worn edges, but the dark gold writing on it shimmered with a faint magical glow, indicating it was no ordinary item.

Pope Reed stood up, his movements slow yet possessing a strange rhythm that drew everyone's attention.

He placed the stack of scrolls on the table in front of him, and his aged yet peaceful voice echoed in the silent hall:
"Before discussing the momentous matters concerning the eternal foundation of the Lost Lands, involving countless secrets and the future direction, we must ensure that everything discussed today is not leaked and causes unnecessary turmoil."

Please sign this contract.

As he spoke, he picked up the top scroll and gently unfurled it.

The dark gold lettering glowed faintly in the air, forming complex and mysterious patterns and clauses.

Even from a distance, the extraordinary individuals present could sense the peculiar fluctuations emanating from the scroll that bound the soul.

"This is a silent soul contract, not enslavement, nor a binding of the will."

The contract applies only to this moment and in this place.

Those who sign this agreement must swear by their souls that they will keep all that they see and hear at this meeting confidential until the meeting is officially announced to the public, and will not disclose it in any form to any person who did not participate in this meeting.

Those who violate this will suffer a backlash from the power of the contract, resulting in minor damage such as memory loss and mental trauma, or even more serious damage to the very essence of their soul, severing their path to transcendence! (End of Chapter)