Miss Wang Weina, even your cousin won't do!

That was a magnificent sea of ​​stars!

Chapter 104 She is not an empire, nor is she ruled by a monarch.

The wreckage of the Star Guard's warships drifted and cooled slowly; the molten planet of Europa VII could never be rebuilt. Theresa watched as the azure sphere on the other side of the starry sky crumbled into fragments and drifted away, the only echo in her ears the single command from the empty bridge:

"Citizens of the United Nations of Earth, as your president, I hereby formally declare that the United Nations of Earth has been subjected to a shameless sneak attack by Starfish. Planet Europa VII and its people have perished in the cosmos. From this moment forward, the United Nations of Earth officially enters a state of war with Starfish!"

war.

Theresa couldn't understand many of the proper nouns, but she could at least understand the word "war" spoken in strange Victorian language.

Is this the third test?

Having learned from her previous two experiences, Theresa did not stand there dumbfounded and witness everything unfold. She immediately turned around and began to scan the once bustling, now empty bridge.

Aside from Theresa, who forcibly entered using the Demon Lord's Originium Arts, no human being other than Vain should exist within the Vain Consciousness Empire. In other words, the only person with a human form on this bridge is Vain!

The bridge was spacious, and Wayne was not hard to spot. Theresa spotted Wayne almost immediately, standing in front of the command platform, checking the star map and directing fleets to jump to various parts of the galaxy through hyperspace portals.

Wayne is playing a game.

Thanks to the omnipotence of the Consciousness Empire, he was actually able to simulate a massive interstellar war in his mind. But unfortunately, just like before, he couldn't sustain himself to complete a full game; he was already thankful if he could finish one classic battle.

However, before he could even begin, a surprising voice came from behind him.

"Mr. Bruce, we've found you."

Theresa hurried forward, beads of sweat already forming on her forehead. She placed her hand on Wayne's shoulder and said anxiously:

"Come home with me now!"

Wayne's body trembled, his body almost instinctively pausing the simulated game. He abruptly turned around, shielding Theresa from the star map behind him in a futile attempt to block it. His reaction was exactly like that of a teenage boy caught playing adult games by his mother bursting into his room. In fact, it was almost the same, and if the game Wayne was playing were categorized, it would probably be hundreds of times more 18+ than adult games—this was virtual reality!

So much so that when Wayne met Theresa's worried gaze, he couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

Why did he feel guilty? He didn't know either. Maybe it was because his wife caught him sneaking out of the house to play video games?

Moreover, in front of the peaceful and pro-foreign Theresa, the Earth Alliance, an equal and pro-foreign country, was transformed into a military isolated force online?

This was like dancing in a minefield or on a high-voltage line. If Wayne hadn't come to his senses and realized that Theresa probably wouldn't understand what he was doing, he probably would have been forced to sleep in the living room tonight because he was mistaken for a warmonger.

Even if he didn't sleep in the living room, he wouldn't have much of a chance to sleep with Theresa anyway.

Hmm...? Theresa?

Wayne raised an eyebrow, scrutinizing the pink-haired girl from head to toe. As if still unsure, he reached out and pinched her cheek. Only after seeing Theresa's almost angry pout did he confirm that she wasn't what he had imagined. He then exclaimed in surprise:

"Theresia, what are you doing here?"

Others might not know, but doesn't Wayne understand? This is his empire of consciousness; theoretically, no one should be allowed to enter. Unless that person, like a demon, has the ability to directly interfere with the will of others.

Wayne suddenly remembered something and a look of understanding appeared on his face.

Directly interfering with a person's will! How could he forget that this was the Demon King's signature move? When it comes to Originium Arts on the spiritual level, on the continent of Terra, if the Demon King claims to be second, probably no one would dare to claim to be first.

But if that's the case...

Wayne's expression gradually turned awkward, and he asked cautiously:

"Theresia, what did you see?"

"An army, small land-based ships capable of firing city-defense artillery-level firepower, swarms of bomb-dropping aircraft, raiders like a nightmare kehakiri, a great wall stretching through the mountains... and war!"

Wayne paused, then asked, "Is there more?"

Theresa shook her head: "No."

Wayne breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness, Theresa must have only come in today, so she probably didn't see any of the inappropriate things he'd been doing before. His glorious image was intact!

Theresa pursed her lips in distress at the sight. Mr. Bruce's meaning was clear: the suffering and war he had experienced in the past two days far exceeded what she had witnessed today.

At this moment, only half a day had passed since Theresa entered Wayne's consciousness, yet she had already followed Bruce to three bloody and brutal battlefields. During the two and a half days that Wayne was unconscious while she was unable to reach the North, how many battles had he experienced, how many fierce fights had he endured, and how many times had he escaped death and achieved victory in this dreamlike land?

Theresa recalled the maniacal smile on Wayne's face as he faced the star map and mobilized the army, and her heart ached even more.

What kind of events and distortions must occur before someone can smile at war?

No, we absolutely cannot let Mr. Bruce continue like this. Theresa looked at Wayne and said seriously:

"Your Highness Bruce, there is no need to fight anymore."

She said with utmost sincerity,

"Stop, Prince Bruce. War brings nothing."

Wayne paused, seemingly not understanding why Theresa would say such a thing.

War can bring many things: money, land, glory...

Cough cough cough, the game got into his head by accident. Wayne shook his head, trying to get rid of the bizarre Paradox Interactive thoughts that were enough to get him shot ten times over.

Upon closer examination, he could understand Theresa's thoughts.

Kazdel has been at war for thousands of years; nations have been destroyed, families torn apart. Even the Sarkaz race has been branded with the fearsome name of demons for its bloodlust and belligerence. And what have the Sarkaz gained from this thousand-year war?

They lost their land. Tikaz has become an ancient, forgotten historical term, and Kazdel has become a geographical concept rather than a national name. The Sarkaz, born in a distant land, don't even know they once had a homeland of their own.

They lost their glory too. On the land, the demons had become synonymous with evil. They were only remembered for the dirtiest and most tiring jobs. Discrimination spread across the land. Apart from those suffering from Oripathy, the Sarkaz were at the very bottom of the social hierarchy. In fact, most of the time, the demons were even associated with Oripathy, becoming the kindling for the burning firewood at the bottom of society.

Even their right to survive is gradually being lost. Whenever Kazdel unites, an anti-Sark alliance is formed, and Laterano, Kazimir, and Ursus will do everything in their power to destroy any potential Kazdel regime and slaughter the Sarkaz. They are exiled and forced into labor.

The Sarkaz gained nothing from a thousand-year war, yet they continued their futile struggle; it's no wonder Theresa developed a strong anti-war stance. On this land, she may not be the most clear-headed person, but she is the only one among them willing to try to make a change. Her opposition to war may indeed be overly idealistic compared to the current state of Kazdel and the realities of Terra, but it should absolutely not be denied.

Because she is the only warm candlelight flickering in the long, cold night filled with bloodshed, slaughter, and stagnation, it is because of her existence that those born in the darkness but yearning for light gather, awaken, and ultimately trigger the miracle known as "Rhodes Island".

Those who carry the fire for the masses should not be left to freeze to death in the wind and snow; those who pave the way for the world should not be left to struggle in thorns. This is also why Wayne, as a transmigrator, would do everything in his power to save her, even with the utmost arrogance.

But now, how can we save an idealist?

Wayne considered many approaches, but ultimately rejected them all. Nothing can persuade an idealist to change her ideals unless you can show her a better, brighter, and more realistic path.

Wayne did consider teaching Theresa the system from his previous life's kingdom, since there were just too many similarities between them.

The Sarkaz are home to many ethnic groups, and their civilization has a long history. The Sarkaz are also seen as a thorn in the side by the world. The Sarkaz were once glorious, but they are in dire need of revival.

But seeing is believing. It's impossible for Theresa to accept and readily implement a system that has no basis in Terra. For pioneers who explore new paths are all equally stubborn, just as Theresa was determined to follow her own path to the bitter end, and Theresa was no exception.

How can we truly make him see all of that and thereby genuinely change his mind?

Wayne had no choice; he couldn't open a portal to elevate himself and Theresa to another dimension and then travel back to see the magnificent landscapes of their homeland.

But now, it seems he has a solution.

This is his empire of consciousness; here, he is omnipotent.

“Theresia, I’ll show you the same thing.”

The stars are shattered, the mountains and rivers are rebuilt, the red flag flutters, and the sun rises in the east.

Powerful ships and cannons, a torrent of steel, iron eagles soaring in the sky, and the Dongfeng Express.

People's happiness, national well-being, social harmony, and great rejuvenation.

"This is......"

"This is what I want to show you, what I will only show you: my past, our future, our secret."

Theresa showed a look of longing, but in the blink of an eye, her expression darkened, she covered her chest with her hands, and lowered her head in remorse.

"This empire... is very similar to Kazdel, but it is far more powerful, and the monarch who rules this country is far more powerful than me."

Wayne proudly puffed out his chest and denied it:

"No, Theresa."

"She is not an empire, she is a republic. And she is not ruled by a god or emperor, but by the people."

Wayne extended his hand to Theresa, who seemed to understand but not quite, and asked sincerely:

"Interested in recreating all of this with me on Terra, starting with rebuilding Kazdel?"

Chapter 105 Bandit Clashes, County Magistrate Dies Suddenly

Victoria, Lentinium, July 18, 5:30 pm

The air in the height of summer was somewhat muggy, and the hot wind, carrying the unpleasant chirping of cicadas, spread restlessness to every household. The clouds in the sky were thick, and the air, faintly damp, created an atmosphere reminiscent of an impending storm.

Just like the sweltering weather, most of the Victorian aristocracy were not in a good mood today. Normally, at this time, they would be enjoying afternoon tea and fishing by the lake at their private summer estates on the outskirts of the city. But today, they were forced to stay at home, pacing back and forth, hoping to relax their worried minds with futile deep breaths.

On this afternoon before the storm, a similar conversation could be heard in almost every noble residence:

Has the news been confirmed?

"It's confirmed, Master. The rebellion in the North has been quelled. His Highness the Prince of Wales ultimately chose not to turn against Her Majesty the Queen, but instead announced that he would accept Her Majesty's terms."

"But how could that be! They should be mortal enemies. Besides, they've already caused a rebellion. Where would they find a way to save face for each other?!"

"Well... Master will have to ask the Duke of Normandy..."

Ask the Duke of Normandy. This is what all the nobles of Londinium want to do now. A few days ago, the scandal involving the Duke of Normandy was like a depth charge dropped into the Terran press, which had been gradually calming down since the Victorian Reformation. One after another, a series of egregious scandals involving several countries, including Ursus, Letania, and Sami, and several major organizations, including Blacksteel International, Raytheon Industries, and Rembiton Mining Consortium, exploded like firecrackers.

Based on the evidence and confessions provided by the Duke of Normandy, who was arrested with the approval of His Highness Wayne and the Supreme Court of Victoria, his illegal and disorderly conduct during his more than ten years of rule in the North has been uncovered one by one. The Victorian government has formally lodged a strong protest and made representations to Ursus and several other countries regarding this matter. If nothing unexpected happens, the royal family will reap a huge profit from this scandal involving multiple countries.

The rebellion in the North, instigated by the Duke of Normandy, was explained by the royal family as "a farcical act of defiance by the heinous Duke and his cronies in the face of a just trial in Londinium." Their claim of being under the banner of "Wayne Bruce" was discredited after the rebellion was personally quelled by Wayne himself, with the explanation of "inciting discord within the royal family" falling apart. Instead, it became a prime example of the harmonious brotherly relationship between the Prince of Wales and Her Majesty the Queen.

"Ask the Duke of Normandy," was the sentiment shared by all the nobles of Lentinium. Their promising situation had been ruined by the Duke of Normandy. Their hard-won opportunity to force the Queen to reinstate Parliament and strip her of power had been thwarted. At the same time, they faced pressure from the victorious royal family returning to Lentinium. All of this stemmed from the Duke of Normandy, leading many nobles who had chosen the wrong side in their decision to send troops to now suspect that this was a trap orchestrated by him and Her Majesty the Queen, a scheme to capture them all.

Unfortunately, no one was able to see the Duke of Normandy. The announcement of his execution by hanging had been posted on the bulletin board of the Iron Palace in Londinium and confirmed by the royal spokesperson. At this moment, the Duke of Normandy was probably silently awaiting his death in the most heavily guarded royal prison in all of Victoria.

Countless nobles sighed at this moment. The lower the noble's rank, the more uneasy they felt.

On the surface, they did indeed stand against the royal family, but in reality, they were nothing more than pitiful people drifting with the tide under the overwhelming trend.

Faced with a newborn, inexperienced empress and a powerful grand duke, they were forced to choose the latter. Now, things have developed in a way that may not be favorable to those powerful figures. According to convention, if the royal family wants to establish its authority, these cannon fodder should be sent to their deaths for the nobles.

Meanwhile, those grand dukes who played the role of bystanders and opportunists in this rebellion are now sitting comfortably at home, waiting for everything to settle down before heading to the palace with "apologies" to swear allegiance to Her Majesty the Queen.

This is the rule of the nobility, and it has been so for thousands of years. No matter how the political landscape changes on the throne, only these families continue unbroken.

Only one person in countless generations has broken this rule, transforming into a god of death and slaughtering one of the three oldest families in the empire. But that person—the King of the North—is dead. Could there be another madman like the King of the North in this world?

Prepare a meager dinner that barely fills half the long table, change into clothes bought just last month that are already a bit worn, and the dukes sit at the table, reducing the number of candles on the candelabra from three to two, as if to put on a show of their poverty after the fall of their family and the establishment of their kingdom, waiting for appeasement from the royal family, and then naturally handing over a few scapegoats to ensure the continued existence of their bloodline, as if the changes happening in the outside world had nothing to do with them.

Until the clock struck midnight, the door was silently knocked on by a white-clad unicorn.