Chapter 189: On the Eve of the Arcane Arts Grand Gathering (33)

The weather grew increasingly cold; the surface of White Swan Lake froze solid, so much so that you could drive an electric car on it.

At this point, less than five days remained before the Arcane Arts Exchange Conference.

Mondaniya City became unusually bustling.

Mondaniya, with a resident population under 600,000, suddenly saw an influx of over a hundred thousand foreigners.

Famous mages from Kao, Levinde, and various duchies all gathered in this once-obscure city.

Even Aaron saw many mages arrive.

They came in disguise, risking charges of treason to attend the conference.

The famous mages were never short of money; they often brought seven or eight, even a dozen or more disciples and grand-disciples to broaden their horizons.

Besides the invited famous mages, there were also many young mages seeking opportunities.

Even merchants, bards, artisans, prostitutes and other seemingly insignificant people gathered in large numbers.

Such a gathering itself meant the concentration of wealth, and concentrated wealth naturally attracted countless people.

The huge influx of outsiders naturally created enormous management and public‑security pressures.

It also caused some minor chaos, yet remarkably, no disastrous accidents ever occurred.

That noon, the sun shone brightly.

In the city there was a small tavern called the Organist.

In a single room on the tavern's second floor, two young mages dressed in Southern Levinde style sat by the street‑side window, sipping drinks and chatting.

One of them, a brown‑haired, black‑eyed young man, laughed: "This Weilan New Capital is really primitive—it's not even as good as a slightly larger baronial town in Levinde."

The other young man had red hair, green eyes, and a face covered in freckles.

He shrugged: "Everyone knows that on Weilan Giant Island there's only one decent city—Dawn City."

"Mondaniya's situation is pretty good; many of Weilan's northern cities are hardly different from big farmlands, and you often see pigs, cattle and sheep charging through the streets."

He hadn't finished speaking when a commotion arose from across the street.

The two youths peered over and saw a squad of black‑uniformed guards escorting a bunch of dejected misfits out of a civilian residence.

The brown‑haired youth asked: "Owen, what country do you think these guys are spies from?"

The red‑haired youth Owen narrowed his eyes, examined them, then grinned: "From the way they talk, full of that sardine‑like accent, they're definitely from Northern Levinde."

The brown‑haired youth sighed: "Most likely they're our Levinde spies. I have no idea what King Sheila is thinking—such a splendid arcane arts gathering, and he sends people to meddle."

Red‑haired Owen sank back into his chair, leaning lazily against the hard wooden backrest, a hint of mockery showing on his freckled face.

"Hansen, my good friend, we all know the little king is still a child who never grew up; he spends his days pulling petty tricks that have embarrassed Levinde to no end."

"And that absurd queen dowager—rumor has it she recently added two more male favorites; who knows if her… whatever she keeps in her pants can withstand all this divine‑gun torment."

Brown‑haired Hansen, with a square‑jawed face, let out a deep sigh and waved his hand wearily, his expression gloomy.

"Let's not talk about these depressing matters; anyway, I have no intention of ever returning to Levinde—no matter what it becomes, it's none of my business."

He raised his hand and filled both their cups: "Come, have a drink—let's toast to our research receiving the duke's investment."

Owen immediately raised his cup: "Good!"

The two youths lightly clinked their cups, then gulped the drinks down to the last drop, smiled at each other, and cast all their worries behind them.

At the same time.

The VIP room of Swan Castle.

Levinde's sage Fujiluola and Elder Princess Molly Sheila were sitting in the spacious, bright glass lounge, basking in the warmth of the winter sun.

Fujiluola gazed at the Elder Princess, whose brows were furrowed with sorrow, and urged softly: "Your Highness, you are Levinde's last hope—you must pull yourself together!"

Elder Princess Molly gave a bitter smile: "Pull yourself together?"

"My life has been utterly ruined; the Sheila royal family must have been wiped out by La Fengge, and the whole kingdom has been secretly occupied by demons."

"How can I pull myself together? On what grounds?!"

Fujiluola listened to these despondent words, her brows knitting tight.

She brusquely raised her hand, gripped the Elder Princess's arm with a little force, then lifted her chin, fully exposing her snow‑white, exquisite cheek to the sunlight.

"Your Highness, thanks to your youthful, beautiful face, your still‑full‑of‑vitality body, and the noble Sheila surname!"

"You must use the duke's power to think of ways to drive out the demons and restore the royal family's glory!"

"Even if the royal line is extinct, your womb is still there—you can give birth to a new royal family."

The Elder Princess stared, dumbfounded; she never expected such coarse, blunt words to come from the sage's mouth, and for a moment she didn't know how to reply.

After a long silence she asked: "Who should I have a child with? The duke?"

"Of course." The sage said with firm certainty.

The princess hesitated: "But the duke already has a wife, and he clearly loves her—indeed they already have a child."

Fujiluola showed no concern: "Isn't that even better?"

"Huh?" The princess couldn't make sense of it.

Fujiluola explained in detail.

"Since the duke already has a wife, he can't marry you, so he can't inherit Levinde's throne. Thus, as long as he's willing to back your bid to retake Levinde, you'll become Levinde's queen!"

The Elder Princess gaped at the sage, still struggling to accept: "But sage, I've already borne a child—I'm not pure anymore."

"Isn't that perfect?"

"Huh?" The princess was completely bewildered.

The sage continued his analysis.

"Having given birth proves your womb works; not being pure means you needn't hold back or worry about your reputation—you can boldly show the duke your feminine charm."

"I bet you know far better than any maiden how to attract a man's attention."

"You can become the duke's mistress; tell him that if he helps you retake Levinde, you're willing to make Levinde and Weilan forever a husband‑and‑wife nation."

Levinde is the wife, Weilan is the husband; the wife will forever support the husband, and your children will be the next Levinde king.

Believe me, the Duke will surely agree.

The elder princess heard it and her face turned red, but she knew the Sage was right; she indeed knew how to please men, although she previously disdained doing so, but now the circumstances are different.

She bit her lower lip, stayed silent for a while, then asked somewhat anxiously, "Sage, are you sure the Duke will agree to me?"

"What if he just wants to toy with my body?"

Fugujiora spread her hands: "Then let him toy with you, after all you're not pure anymore, and you always need a man. Or are you planning to remain single for the rest of your life?"

Elder Princess Molly simply didn't know how to evaluate the Sage's words; they were crude and direct, but upon reflection, they also made sense.

Anyway, she has nothing left; even if things got worse, they couldn't be worse than now, and if she could become the Duke's mistress, at least she would have food and clothing for the rest of her life.

More importantly, Duke Weilan has no bad habits, his temperament is gentle, he's also good-looking—who knows how many girls wish to become his mistress but cannot.

Molly recalled her past experiences on White Sturgeon Island.

At first, she thought he was merely a small island baron, dismissing his power, but she never expected that in just over a year he would become the most powerful duke of the Natural Alliance, even causing the Lion King Aaron to bow before him.

The changes of the world are truly unpredictable.

Yet the reserve instilled by long-standing royal education still makes it hard for her to break free of rules and shift her thinking in a short time.

She knew what Fugujiora said made sense and should be the only way to revive the Sheila royal family's glory, but psychologically she couldn't shift instantly.

Fugujiora understood, didn't press further, and simply stated a fact: "Your Highness, this actually isn't difficult at all."

"You just need to find a chance to be alone with the Duke, then take off your clothes; believe me, the Duke is a philanderer, since he could accept the Kao empress, he'll certainly accept you."

Molly heard and her eyes widened: "Where is there a Kao empress?"

Fugujiora spread her hands: "That woman named Nana at the underground meeting that night—she is the Kao empress."

Molly nearly jumped up: "How is that possible? The Kao empress doesn't stay in Kao, how could she be in Weilan?"

"I don't know that, but I've lived to be 89, and I can tell at a glance that there's something between the Duke and the empress."

Molly felt her worldview somewhat overturned: "Sage, you're not mistaken, are you? How come I didn't notice?"

Fugujiora sighed: "Your Highness, your status is noble, everyone around you tries to curry favor, so of course you wouldn't scrutinize others closely."

"But I'm different—I'm of common birth yet I mix in the royal court; the Sage's power is my passport into the palace, but reading people's expressions and tones is my greatest talisman for survival to this day."

"Not only the Kao empress, the two blue-haired women who appeared that night also have relations with the Duke."

"He's a philandering duke, and this is completely normal."

"Because he's young and strong, has excellent looks, astonishing talent, and immense power, he has the capital to be a philanderer."

"And this is precisely your opportunity, Your Highness, to restore your family's glory."

Molly's cheeks flushed red, not knowing whether from excitement or shyness.

After a long while, she spoke in a voice as light as possible: "Then I'll look for a chance to try."

The Sage was satisfied: "Don't be too deliberate, or the man will feel schemed against and grow resentful; when the opportunity comes, just let it happen naturally."

Molly's cheeks reddened further, and she felt the Sage before her was a bit like a brothel madam, while she herself seemed to have become a prostitute.

The Sage sensed Molly's subtle thoughts, sighed lightly: "Your Highness, I know this is somewhat shameless. But the virtuous cannot be kings; they can only be ascetics."

Molly nodded lightly, indicating she understood, but she said nothing more.

Warm sunlight streamed through the exquisite, wide glass, still unhesitatingly shining on the two of them, completely without any deviation due to their earlier scheming.

At the same time, by Swan Lake, Luosen's true form was strolling along the lakeside path with Envoy Erin of the Radiant Empire.

He got straight to the point.

"Miss Erin, we, Weilan and the Levinde royal family, have a considerable grudge, and we are also extremely dissatisfied with the Radiant Empire's support of Levinde's new weapons."

(End of chapter)