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

Even without activating Originium Arts, Theresa understood what Vina intended to do. Londinium couldn't immediately send troops to the North before all the traitors within the army had been eliminated. But war is never just about battlefield combat; it also involves the battle of public opinion.

It's time to announce to all of Victoria who their emperor is!

Do you need my help?

Theresa spoke up, and Vina looked at her with some surprise. On her own, her chances of winning in this treacherous war of public opinion were indeed slim. She had considered asking Theresa for help, but she had assumed that on such a sensitive issue involving Victoria's national affairs, even if she wanted Theresa's assistance, she would have reservations.

But Theresa simply responded to Vina's surprised and grateful gaze with a gentle smile that seemed perfectly natural.

"We are family."

That's what Theresa said.

Chapter Fifty-Five: The King's Speech

Victoria, Lentinium city center.

Although Lauter was just an ordinary factory worker, he couldn't help but worry about Victoria's future.

A dark cloud hung over Londinium. The Aslan royal family, who had once led the people of Victoria to victory in the bloody war against Gaul, was nowhere to be seen. The vast Victoria was cracking. He didn't even know what was happening in the towering Iron Palace in the city center, or who was sitting on the throne.

In just over a decade, the empire has felt as if it had endured a century. Peace and stability are gone, and the Wars of the Roses, instigated by the King of the North, have even brought war to the once pristine land of Londinium. The King of the North's rule was also unstable; his reign lasted only ten years before vanishing in an unexpected death. And now, the empire's north is once again engulfed in turmoil.

He was once the King of the North, now he is a duke, will next bandits and thieves be able to rule over Victoria and become kings of the mountains?

Lauter couldn't sleep a wink last night, his mind replaying that seemingly impassioned but ultimately nonsensical and out-of-touch manifesto, "Victoria Had No King." The young Earl of Princeton, on television, spoke passionately about restoring Parliament, rebuilding elections, and democracy, vehemently denigrating the supposed "misery" of the nobility under monarchy. Yet, he made no mention of the workers, farmers, or merchants.

He didn't even know who gave him the audacity to say such things.

Lauter silently took a book from his bookshelf and began to read. The factory was closed today, a holiday granted by the royal family to all workers nationwide. He was literate, as the royal family had previously sent volunteer education teams to every factory to teach Victoria's citizens to read. The book in his hands had been read several times already, because even without the holiday, in this country where component unions were allowed to protect workers' rights, he could still read these books after get off work. Although he was just an ordinary worker, he could easily fill his bookshelf because he could earn enough money through his labor. After all, Victoria was the first and only country in all of Terra to achieve a steam technology revolution. Here, a skilled worker's salary far exceeded that of a white-collar worker in the conglomerates under those traitors in Colombia. Because this was Victoria, Terra's most prosperous and powerful nation!

The book cover features a Q&A book produced in Yan State, primarily discussing the art of governance. Don't ask why Lauter, a worker, would enjoy reading this type of book; he can answer you with a classic line from it—"Though my position is humble, I dare not forget my duty to the nation."

Moved by what he saw, he turned to the page he wanted to read and looked at what was supposedly "a dialogue between a farmer from Yan and a historian".

[Historian: Fellow countryman, can I ask you a question?]

[Farmer: Judging by your attire, you're some city gentleman? Fine, ask away. But I don't know much about it.]

[Historian: This isn't a difficult question. I just want to ask you, what is your view on Emperor Taizong of the Great Yan Dynasty?]

[Farmer: Ah, I admire him so much.]

[Historian (surprised): Why? But he seized power, murdered his brothers, and forced his father to abdicate; his claim to the throne was illegitimate!]

[Farmer: Because he gave me a tax reduction.]

Lauter felt he was no different from that peasant from the distant Yan Kingdom. While they lacked the culture of historians and the nobility and elegance of nobles, they could distinguish who treated them well and who didn't. The peasant believed a good emperor was one who reduced taxes and fed him, while Lauter believed that the king and monarchy that led Victoria to prosperity and its current status were far from being replaced by a group of nobles who only knew how to exploit workers.

But Victoria didn't have a king at this time! Could it be that the Aslan royal family had already given up the fight?

"Should we contact the workers at EARTHA to discuss this matter?"

Lauter was filled with worry as he was about to put on his coat and head out to the factory when his wife, who was coming from the opposite direction, bumped right into him.

"Hey! What are you doing, walking so fast!?"

Lauter rubbed his nose in annoyance, glared at his wife, who smiled apologetically and said impatiently:

"Louite, quick, turn on the TV!"

Lauter's face fell: "What time is it? You're still in the mood to watch TV?"

The wife shook her head, took Lauter's hand, walked to the television, and said as she turned it on:

"No, Lauter, I know why you couldn't sleep last night. But this is good news!"

She turned the television volume up to the maximum, then turned to the side to show Lauter what was on the screen—a flag made up of a lion, a griffin, a crown, and a golden shield—the flag of Victoria! And the grand and elegant music playing in her ears was the Victorian national anthem!

Wearing a blue cloak and a majestic crown, with a flower-adorned podium in front of her and a bright national flag behind her, Vina, meticulously dressed, had shed her childishness and looked dashing. She took a deep breath and nodded to Theresa, who stood behind the camera.

Lauter was all too familiar with the scene before him. Ten years ago, it was the same set, the same music, and he was standing in front of the television screen, unable to look away.

By then, the King of the North had wiped away the blood of the Wars of the Roses, and Londinium and Victoria had entered a new era. Lauter, finally able to catch his breath, returned home from the headquarters of the All Victorian Labour Union (EARTHA) and sat in front of the television to witness the scene.

This is a televised address from the coronation ceremony of the Aslan royal family!

Lauter finally realized what had happened. He quickly ran back to the living room, turned on the large TV, and without needing to change the channel, every Victorian TV station was broadcasting the same program!

Vina's gaze was fixed on the dark camera lens. Preparation for this televised address was still insufficient; less than a day of preparation time forced her to choose her own Queen's office as the venue. Even the cameraman had to be Theresa. Logically, she should have been nervous...

But for some reason, when Vina actually stood on the podium, facing the camera lens that would broadcast her face and words to more than forty mobile cities across Victoria, she felt unusually calm, even somewhat excited.

This is a sense of responsibility, a sense of mission!

In the past, Wayne's father, the King in the North, stood in the same setting and proclaimed to all the people of Victoria that a war had ended and his coronation would bring peace to Victoria!

And now, Vina stands here as well. She nods to the camera, watching the camera start up with a soft flash of light, and straightens her back.

She will solemnly declare to the countless Victorians who are eagerly waiting on the other side of the camera:

"A message to all citizens of Victoria, whether you are a worker, farmer, merchant, student, soldier, nobleman, or foreign friend: Please remember—"

"I am your king!"

She declared that yet another war had begun. The flames of war once again raged from the north towards the heart of the empire, and this time, she would not lose!

"My coronation will bring peace and prosperity to Victoria!"

Vina's words were firm and resolute. The Aslan girl wasn't making empty promises; she was stating undeniable facts!

Chapter Fifty-Six: I Didn't Do Anything

Victoria, County Toronto, hill road ruins.

Mostima stamped his foot in frustration, then reached out and stopped the papal guards who were about to continue their search.

No one could find a Shadow Guard who would go to great lengths to conceal their presence. That ancient Eastern Empire had too many strange and bizarre spells, some of which even completely transcended the framework of existing Originium Arts, developing indefinitely toward "miracles".

They slayed the gods, then tamed them, and seized their power for their own use. It's unrealistic to try and determine who among these elites, who walk a path so drastically different from Laterano's, is in the dense forests of Victoria's north. For both they and their enemies are hampered here, unable to unleash their true strength.

Moreover, Mostima has already lingered here for far too long.

The commotion in the North was considerable. Upon being attacked, they almost instinctively assumed they had encountered assassins planted by Lontinim within Vayne's ranks to obstruct their operations, hence their reckless barrage. However, upon sensing the presence of Yan Kingdom energy within the attackers' magic, she slowly realized she was likely mistaken. Lontinim had no reason to hire a Yan Kingdom thunder mage to assassinate Vayne. Nor would a Yan Kingdom thunder mage accept a job that could potentially provoke international conflict.

The sun is already setting in the west in the blink of an eye. If we don't hurry up and find Wayne, someone else might beat us to it!

"Personnel, send one back to camp to check on and protect the two wounded. The remaining two will come with me along the mountain path to find Prince Wayne's convoy!"

Mostima emphasized,

“We’ve been entangled with this inexplicable attacker for far too long, and we still haven’t figured out his intentions. But please understand, our only target is His Highness Wayne. We’re not concerned with anything else. Do you understand?”

"clear."

The Pope's guards answered in unison, their voices not loud, but full of authority.

"Let's begin along the mountain path..."

Before Mostima could finish speaking, a colossal stone statue suddenly rose at the end of the mountain path she had mentioned. The towering statue was engulfed in flames starting from its shoulders, and within seconds it transformed into a majestic lava demon, wielding a giant sword and burning the forest beneath it into charred ashes.

That's a combination attack from Surtr and Mudrock!

Mostima's already pale face darkened even more. If she wasn't mistaken, that direction should be the bend in the once intact mountain road, not far from where the landslide had just passed.

If the Royal Military Academy's convoy stopped to assess the situation after realizing the devastation caused by the volley of musket fire, it was likely within that range.

Prince Wayne's convoy... has been attacked!

What should we do? How is he now? Is he safe? Is he injured? How serious are his injuries?

Mostima's mind was flooded with countless questions, all of which concerned Wayne at this moment. But the more she witnessed the fire giant in the distance, which had stained half the sky red, wielding its greatsword and leaving scorched marks on the earth, and the more she heard the chilling screams that were still terrifying even from a thousand meters away, the colder her heart became.

Reason told her that under such a horrific attack, Prince Wayne... was likely doomed.

"Quickly, head in that direction!"

"Cover your heart, which is a little arrhythmic," Mostima commanded.

.........

A clearing in the woods.

The mountain path was not easy to traverse. Even with Mostima and the Papal Guard's exceptional skills, navigating around a rocky ruin they had personally blasted down was no easy feat. It wasn't until half an hour later that Mostima finally arrived at the clearing in the woods.

However, the forest clearing before him was now a desolate wasteland. The charred trees, the ground covered with sharp blades, the boulders shattered by a heavy weapon, and the pools of splattered blood that hadn't been washed away all proclaimed a cruel reality to Mostima.

—A fierce battle had just broken out on this road, and they were too late.

Recalling the scene he had just witnessed—the fire giants appearing as if divine warriors had descended from the heavens and attacking the entire camp—Mostima knew that the outcome of the battle was already obvious.

The bloodstains on the ground undoubtedly belong to the students, and some of them may even be... His Highness Wayne's.

If only I had arrived earlier...

If only I hadn't wasted so much time on that damned Yan Kingdom sorcerer...

If I hadn't sacrificed Prince Wayne to get him released from the dungeon, thus crossing Queen Victoria's final line...

If I took him with me.

Mostima's mind raced with various hypotheses, but she could only see Prince Wayne's shadow in her memories. She clenched her fists, feeling extremely powerless despite having the Papal Guard's Revolver Cavalry, one of Lateran's top martial forces, by her side.

"I didn't accomplish anything."

They lost the black key and the white key, they lost Laterano's face, and in the end, they even lost Prince Wayne.

I really want to eat the pancakes that Prince Wayne gave me on the food street again.

However, time, as if in retaliation, never allowed Mostima, who had once controlled it, a moment's respite. The Pope's personal guards quickly surveyed the surroundings, then returned to Mostima with furrowed brows and reported:

“Your Excellency, there are approaching Victorian armed forces not far away. Their flags are those of the Duchy of Normandy, and they are carrying tools for clearing the battlefield. It seems they are heading this way. Should we take cover?”

"hidden?"

Mostima raised her head, looked at the papal guard beside her who was a head taller than her, and said...

"A squad of fully armed Victorian soldiers traveled thousands of miles to this remote forest to clean up the battlefield. Whom were they covering up for?"