People in Terra, governing a bizarre little country

Safar the Firelord turned his head slightly, meeting the face of the banshee, a face that almost filled his entire field of vision, radiating a kind smile:

"Where are you going, Mr. Flame Demon?"

"You still have work to finish, so you can't rest now."

P.S.: A long chapter of 4500 words, goodnight brothers!

Chapter 311 Vina and Abrahina's First Meeting

The Grand Hotel Scherrag, Wellington Duke's Mission Room.

Ahmoni knocked on Abrahma's door:

“Your Highness Abrahana, Mandra is looking for you outside the door.”

There was a moment of silence inside the door, before a slightly puzzled voice rang out:

"Who?"

Ahmoni repeated with a hint of helplessness, "Mandra. One of your followers."

“Oh.” Abrahana seemed to recall something, letting out a self-deprecating chuckle. “I almost forgot about her if you hadn’t mentioned her. I’ve been in Sherag for so long, why is she only coming to see me now?”

“She’s quite busy, and she has a proper job in Shelag,” Ahmoni said. “To be honest, out of the three of us, I’m the worst off.”

Ahmoni didn't know why this was happening. As an outstanding graduate of the Royal Victorian Guard Academy, and a classmate of Chen and Fiona (Bagpipes), her job prospects after graduation were obviously not as easy as Chen and Fiona's.

Chen is a true second-generation rich kid with an incredibly powerful background. Wei Yanwu, the governor of Longmen, is her uncle, and she is ranked high in the genealogy of the Great Yan True Dragon Royal Family. After returning to Longmen, she has no trouble finding a job.

She currently works at the Lungmen Guard Bureau's Special Inspectorate, a position that appears to have been climbed up step by step from the bottom. But to put it more simply, she could have easily started as the head of the Guard Bureau; she just wanted to gain experience at the grassroots level.

Of course, this isn't to say that such thinking is bad. As a second-generation heir, to have such awareness, coupled with an undeniably upright character, makes Chen truly a remarkable figure. However, his starting line is the finish line for many, and his finish line is the horizon for countless others. This feeling can easily lead to helplessness and despair.

The current Governor of Longmen, Wei Yanwu, is old. He and his wife, Princess Wen Yue of the Eastern Kingdom, have no children. Who will take over the position of Governor of Longmen in the future?

The answer is self-evident; what else could they do? Were they really going to let a mere official take office?

Longmen is not like the provinces within the Great Yan Kingdom. Provinces do not have the independent capacity for foreign trade, printing and minting currency, or even maintaining an army. Longmen's relationship with the Yan Kingdom is more like that of an electorate to Letania or a duchy to Victoria—a vassal state, or even more so.

Especially considering Wei Yanwu's identity, the current emperor is his younger brother, and the country is still called Yan, but the emperor does not have the surname Wei!

As for Fiona—no, she should be called Bagpipe now—her extraordinary physical abilities as a Vyman allowed her to pass the Stormtroopers' tests after graduation, becoming a member of that legendary Victorian unit. If the Lion King were still alive, and Victoria were still stable, she could be considered to have a very promising future. Unfortunately…

However, recently, there has been news that Duke Castle is trying to recruit the Stormstrike Force. The Stormstrike Force's captain, the daughter of the Earl of the White Wolf, Miss Rita Scamanderros, has come to Sherag as a bodyguard, accompanying Duke Castle himself.

She accomplished her mission admirably, protecting the Duke of Caesar's life. Unfortunately, she couldn't protect his face.

However, the Duke of Castle's power should not be underestimated. If the Storm Commandos were to truly submit to the Duke of Castle, as a powerful special operations force, they might very well be used as a model by the Duke of Castle and promoted and given important responsibilities.

In comparison, Ahmoni's job search was much more difficult. She had no illustrious lineage, and her family did not serve under any grand duke. In fact, she did have some old Gaully ancestry, but unfortunately, she herself had no interest in the restoration of Gaul or the Draco Restoration.

Being the Duke of Wellington's intelligence agent may seem glamorous, but the sordid aspects behind it are best left unsaid.

Anyone who knows even a little about the Duke's personality knows that there was a reason why the Duke of Caster regarded Wellington as his biggest rival and even went so far as to set up an encirclement against him.

He could shamelessly demand that Ernst, a foreign leader, do the dirty work of terrorist attacks for him; it goes without saying how well his intelligence agents fared.

Ahmoni was lucky; she was sent to the Deep Pool and became a member, beginning her work as a double agent. This job was no easy one, Ahmoni knew very well. Every step she took was like walking on thin ice; whether she would ever reach the other side was anyone's guess.

If given the choice, who wouldn't yearn for a more stable life and be a contented person?

Despite her feelings of emotion, Ahmoni did not intend to belittle herself.

Everyone has their own dreams and lives a wonderful life. After one thrilling battle after another, and one brush with death after another, she had long since become accustomed to this identity and everything it brought.

She still enjoyed the balls, reading, and sparkling water that Victorian youths loved, but that was a distant memory; for most of her life, she was working.

"Would you like to see her?"

Ahmoni turned her head slightly, glanced at Mandra who was blocked at the door, pacing back and forth uneasy, and asked Abrahana.

Although she probably already knew the answer.

Abrahana did not open the door.

"Forget it, I'll be grateful if she doesn't cause me any trouble."

“Deeppool is no longer the violent organization that was just starting out and needed to expand rapidly and fight. Our size has reached a limit, and if we continue to expand, it will probably arouse suspicion and concern from that old man Wellington.”

Ahmoni pursed her lips; she certainly knew what Abrahana meant.

“But Mandela doesn’t understand this.”

This is the key.

“I sent her to Shelag to quiet her down a bit. What we need now is to lie low, bide our time, act when the time is right, and wait for the right opportunity. That day won’t be long, but it won’t be short either. If we let her continue to cause trouble, it will only add more complications for us.”

“Tell her to stay in Shelag and keep an eye on my stupid sister. That’s her only and most important task. She doesn’t need to worry about the rest. And she doesn’t need to come back without my orders.”

"That's fine, I'm going back to reading. Ernst's novel is somewhat interesting. Why didn't she put it on display at the fair? It would have been better than those bizarre statues."

Abrahana gave the final instruction, and the room fell silent once more.

Ahmoni sighed softly, turned around, and walked towards the door.

Mandela, who had been waiting impatiently, immediately tried to squeeze through the door and asked eagerly:

"Akhmoni! What did the leader say?"

“What else could the leader say?” Ahmoni’s signature mocking smile reappeared on her face, and her teasing voice made Mandela’s eyebrows twitch. “The leader wants you to go back and continue your mission.”

"You abandoned your post without orders, Mandela! Who gave you such audacity? Where is your discipline?"

“I…” Mandra choked for a moment, glanced at the quiet room and the corridor where Abrahana was nowhere to be seen, and swallowed back the curse that was about to come out, “I just wanted to see the leader, is that not allowed?”

"A soldier on the battlefield wants to see his family, so he secretly sneaks back to his hometown despite the fierce fighting at the front. Do you think this counts as desertion?"

Ahmoni skillfully argued that this approach was sufficient to deal with Mandela.

"Princess Abrahina wants you to stay in Kjerag and keep an eye on Rafshini. Just do as she says. When Her Highness needs you, she will naturally remember you and transfer you back. Or, Mandela, has life in Kjerag made you have some other ideas?"

Ahmoni squinted her eyes:

“If that’s the case, I can help you submit your resignation to the leader. You’ve done enough for Deeppool, and the leader is magnanimous enough to let you leave with dignity.”

"how?"

"Ahmoni!" The question was interrupted by an angry roar. Mandra's face was flushed red as she gritted her teeth and cursed, "Are you humiliating me?"

I'm reminding you that it's almost time for you to leave on your own.

Ahmoni calmly observed the girl before her, and seeing that the girl even seemed about to raise her staff, she sighed almost imperceptibly and shook her head.

"What an idiot."

“I don’t have time to fool around with you here. If you don’t have that idea, then go back to your post right now. Making a scene here will only attract unnecessary attention and tarnish the leader’s image.”

What she said was true. Abrahina's identity could not be exposed for the time being, and Mandra's impulsive and thoughtless personality could easily cause trouble.

If we let her continue making noise here, it might attract the attention of other guests staying at the hotel, causing them to become curious and suspicious of the place, which would create unnecessary trouble.

These guests are no ordinary people in this setting!

Ahmoni silently cursed Mandela, took a step back, and closed the door.

A snapping sound came from the doorway. Mandra stood there, gritting her teeth, sniffling with a hint of grievance.

She finally understood!

Princess Abrahim has a treacherous minister by her side!

This treacherous minister is none other than Ahmoni! She actually questioned my loyalty to the Deeppool and even wanted me to leave the Deeppool. What is this? This is eliminating dissidents!

In the past, everyone in Deep Pool was one family. They would excitedly rob a Victorian noble's caravan together, help each other while camping in the wilderness, and the leader would often appear to cheer everyone on. But what about now?

Deep Pool has changed. Leaders are appearing less often, and she, as a cadre, is not comfortable in her position. Not only is she constantly being hindered, but she can no longer simply rob or seduce those Victorian nobles at will. Instead, she has to consider the situation and negotiate benefits.

It’s simply unreasonable!

This must be Ahmoni misleading and deceiving the leader! She must expose her true colors!

Mandela gritted his teeth and, instead of leaving, took another step forward and knocked on the door.

"Boom boom boom!"

"........"

"Dong dong dong——!"

"........"

"Boom!"

"Click."

The door finally opened again, and this time, it wasn't Ahmoni who appeared before Mandela, but the leader she had been longing for.

The tall Abrahina looked down at the surprised Mandela, her eyes filled with undisguised indifference and hidden anger.

She glanced down the corridor. Fortunately, since it was daytime and most of the envoys were at the expo, Mandela's commotion didn't attract much attention.

Abrahana then looked at Mandela.

"leader!"

Mandela tried calling out,

“Ahmani, she…”

“What Ahmoni said was an order I gave her.”

Abrahana's cold, seemingly emotionless voice slowly rang out.

Do you have any complaints about my orders?

"No...that's not what I meant. I just wanted to..."

"What are you thinking about?"

Abrahana asked, a smile suddenly curving her lips.

"You want to go back to Deeppool, you want to fight, you don't want to stay in Kjerag anymore?"

Mandela's eyes lit up; as expected, the leader understood her thoughts. She nodded without hesitation.

"Correct!"

"I see. Ah, it's not that there's no chance after all."

"Mandra, do you want to go to Lentinium?"

“The Sarkaz have now taken over the city. They have defeated the Victorians. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. We need an envoy to contact our [friends].

An envoy? Another envoy?

A sense of foreboding crept into Mandela's heart, but she did not doubt Abrahina's orders and readily accepted them:

"Of course, if that's the leader's order."

"Hehe." Abrahana chuckled.

Since you will obey my orders, why did you question my last order?

Is your loyalty to yourself or to me?

But it doesn't matter anyway, it's not important. With your personality, if you really go to Lentinium, you probably won't have a chance to come back.

Goodbye? Never again.

"Well then..."

Before Abrahana could speak, a call from the end of the corridor interrupted her:

"Mandela, you're here."

The blond-haired Aslan appeared in the corridor, and was somewhat taken aback when he noticed Mandra standing at the door of the room and Abrahina inside.

"Are you Lafshini's sister?"

Vina asked curiously, as she had always heard Ernst mention that Lavshini had an older sister with a completely different personality and temperament, but this was the first time they had officially met.

After revealing her identity, she was given a short break by Ernst to avoid the most explosive storm, and now she has begun to fulfill her true duties as the Foreign Minister.

In recent days, she has met with many guests, posing as a Sherag.

Vina's sudden appearance disrupted Abrahana's plans. She pushed open the door, stepped out of the room, looked Vina up and down, and finally extended her hand with a smile: