A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

It's not about how many silver-tier monsters you can cut down, but rather that the moment you cut down that one silver-tier monster, the entire world is already undergoing a dramatic transformation.

Only after you have killed a demigod will you suddenly realize that everything around you has changed.

“After I stabilized the White Court, the rest of the country had already fallen.” Dorothea glanced at her palm, seemingly lost in thought.

"Then, after a year or two, people's hearts began to crumble."

“Fear turned into blind obedience, and even the will to resist was completely worn away.”

"Just like the village you saw before."

"Right now, people are relatively orderly, but in a few years, after the moral system collapses..."

"What you see in the Northern Continent is ten thousand times more disgusting than what you've seen before."

They plundered and harmed their compatriots, fawned over the silver-skinned people, and constructed a crazy fantasy.

Although it hasn't happened yet, these kinds of scenes will appear soon.

The world will transform from a less-than-ideal apocalypse into a chilling hell.

“I need a catalyst to change all of this,” Dorothea said in a deep voice.

Motivating people requires some "proof," and Dorothea lacked that proof.

"Didn't I suddenly have something to say after I mentioned you before?"

"Hmm, it seems so." Bray kept repeating "hmm" over and over again.

Dorothea's assessment of the world's condition was correct, so he did not add anything.

Being a salted fish is also a kind of happiness.

“So come back to Snowwind Keep with me now, we’ll talk there.” Dorothea grabbed Bray with one hand and tossed him onto the dragon’s back.

Before Bray could react, he discovered that the dragon had already taken off.

"What do you mean you need a specific place to say it?" Bray was astonished.

"In specific terms." Dorothea didn't bother to explain and casually brushed off Bray's question.

"Let me make this clear first, your dragon ran into trouble halfway through, so don't blame me," Bray said quickly, remembering something very important.

"I understand," Dorothea replied casually, still unaware of the gravity of the situation. The snow continued, but the sun shone brightly.

So Dorothea and Bray teamed up to kill another Silver Serpent.

It wasn't Troon, but rather he was killed en route to Snowwind Keep.

The problem is that they paid a heavy price to kill that silver-type creature: the dragon's wings were injured.

Now that dragon can only crawl on the ground; it's not as fast as Dorothea and Bray.

Dorothea looked at Bray with a very strange expression.

After a few seconds of silence, Bray took out the hunter's leaf flute from his pouch and began to play it.

Of course, playing the flute wasn't just to distract Dorothea; it was also an attempt to comfort the poor dragon.

The dragon's wing membrane has a large hole, and it's unknown whether it will be able to recover in the future.

After hearing Bray's flute music, Flying Dragon shed tears.

Dorothea, however, was not distracted by Bray's flute playing; she thought she knew who the culprit was.

"It's because of you, isn't it?" she said.

“What a joke, I don’t have that ability.” Bray stopped playing the flute and said expressionlessly.

"It's just that my transportation sometimes breaks down when I'm flying, so I'm giving you a heads-up."

“It was just bad luck. I told you beforehand, don’t blame me,” Bray said.

That's right, the chances of an accident are very low if it's a normal mode of transportation.

Simply taking flight will cause your luck to decline linearly.

"Never mind." Dorothea's simple "Never mind" contained a thousand unspoken words.

However, Dorothea did not intend to Rabelai, because the reason why the silver species came to her was because Dorothea's own aura was too strong.

Unlike Bray, Dorothea never bothered to conceal her powerful aura.

When others stand in front of you, they will understand how strong you are; there's no need to hide it.

The silver-colored creature that took flight was attracted by Dorothea's aura.

Dorothea's powerful aura didn't seem like that of a lower-level species; it was more like a hodgepodge of silver-level species. The silver-level creature that came over was there to exchange pleasantries with its own kind.

However, he didn't expect to run into Dorothea and Bray, and get killed.

However, in order to kill that silver-type creature, Dorothea lost another weapon.

"Isn't it a waste that you always have fewer weapons when fighting Silver-ranked enemies?" Bray asked curiously.

“My weapons aren’t as precious as yours,” Dorothea said without much change in expression.

Every single weapon in Dorothea's warehouse is famous.

Some of them are even so-called "divine artifacts," which are weapons that still retain some of the original concepts.

Judging from Dorothea's understated description, it's hard to imagine how many more collections she actually has.

However, Dorothea's words just now were not meant to be sarcastic; she genuinely felt that her weapons were not as valuable as Bree's.

Her arsenal contained no weapons with their own will.

Only weapons that possess one's own will can be considered truly powerful.

However, this kind of weapon is not something you can just acquire if you want it; even if you search for it diligently, you may end up with nothing.

Some people don't even need to search; they find a weapon on a street stall that resonates with them and gives rise to their own will.

"But there's still a problem with reducing the number of items like this, isn't there?"

"They're just collectibles. If the world of lower species disappears, what's the point of keeping collectibles?"

"Besides, even if I did lose weapons every time, I would still have more weapons than the Silver ones."

The implication is that even if Dorothea could kill everyone, there would still be weapons left in the armory.

She is fighting with the treasures of a lower species.

What an extravagant battle! It made Bray a little envious.

"How much longer until we reach Snowwind Keep?" Bray asked.

“It’s a two-day journey, we should have arrived by now.” Dorothea said, glancing sideways at Bray.

"..." Bray dared not speak.

Although it had little to do with him, he still didn't dare to speak loudly.

“We can find a safe area to rest,” Bray suggested.

"I won't look for her." Dorothea shook her head decisively.

“Don’t worry about the cold in the wild, I have a way to solve that,” she added.

"Do you really dislike the people of the Northern Continent?" Bray assumed that Dorothea didn't want to interact with "those people," which was why she wasn't going into the safe zone.

"Hateful?" Dorothea couldn't help but laugh when she heard Bray's words.

"As an empress, why should she hate her own people?"

Snowwind Fortress still stands, the Kingdom of White Court still exists, and her status as Empress remains unchanged.

She wouldn't hate the people of Bai Ting Kingdom... no, she wouldn't hate the people of the entire Northern Continent.

Even though they are easily influenced and often appear foolish.

But she is the empress, and they are the people.

You should take responsibility for all of this yourself.

"I don't go to the safe zone simply because I don't want to disrupt their lives."

“I don’t understand.” Bray gave up trying to put himself in Dorothea’s shoes, shook his head casually, and then started moving his hands and feet to warm up.

"You don't need to understand, because you are not the king."

“Even kings don’t all understand this,” Dorothea replied nonchalantly.

“Confidence…or rather, pride?” Bray muttered, rubbing his chin.

When Dorothea said these things, it gave the impression that she had every right to do so.

"Why can't I be proud?" Dorothea's pointed ears easily heard Bray mutter to himself.

She said this with great pride, her ears still thumping.

"If you don't believe in yourself, how can others believe in you?"

"This is the first time I've realized you enjoy talking about philosophy so much." Bray raised an eyebrow slightly, not surprised that his muttering had been heard.

"..." Dorothea looked at Bray expressionlessly.

Philosophy? What was she talking about philosophy?

“By the way, if you’re not planning to go to the safe zone, let’s set up camp now,” Brera said, pulling the dragon back.

It was getting dark, and the temperature would drop further, making it unsuitable to continue.

"Now? Isn't it still early?" Dorothea looked up, realizing that it was still quite early.

"It's getting late," Bray said, pursing his lips.

He took out the necessities from his pouch, started building a campfire, and even threw out a sleeping bag.

But Dorothea stood there motionless.

"What's wrong?" Bray looked at Dorothea, who was as still as a stone, with a puzzled expression.

"What are you doing?" Dorothea asked Bray in return.

The two fell into a brief silence.

"You... have you never even tried wilderness survival?" Bray was speechless.

"Why seek survival in the wild?" Dorothea pulled out her treasure from behind her back.

Bray realized he had been too naive.

It turns out that only I would suffer so much in the wild, to the point of struggling to survive.

People like Dorothea don't need to fight for survival.

That's right, this girl is the Elf Queen, someone who lives a very refined life even in the most desolate places.

Moreover, even though she lives a very refined life, she doesn't give people the feeling that she's overly extravagant.

"So there are things like this in this world," Bray said with great emotion.

He and Dorothea are now sitting in a rather large and warm house.

When Bray first saw the house, he was completely stunned.

With a "thump, thump, thump," a small block of wood transformed into a wooden house and was thrown to the ground.

Dorothea also chopped down a lot of trees so that the cabin could be successfully placed nearby.

At first, Bray thought that Dorothea said there was no need to worry about heating at night because she could produce some kind of heat source.

That is, things like fire and lamps.

I never expected that someone could pull out a house; even Bray's own pocket couldn't do that.

If Bray could also pull out a house anywhere, he wouldn't have to live such a cramped life in the wild.

Starting a fire is always a hassle; you have to find food, and you don't even have a blanket to wrap yourself in; you have to lie in a sleeping bag.

Ah, it's very spacious here, and there's even a bed to sleep in if I'm tired.

“Of course,” Dorothea replied matter-of-factly.

She didn't think what she brought out was anything particularly incredible.

Kapras isn't without all sorts of amazing things; he can even break through space, so why is it surprising that his house shrank?