Chapter 160: All the sweet words, marriage contracts...
“They didn’t surrender sincerely; it was just a temporary measure to save their lives. If I don’t kill them, their return will be my death day.” Manberia’s amber eyes were deep and dark. “You may also know that I killed my father’s illegitimate son. My father’s illegitimate son’s interests were deeply intertwined with my father’s. My father and I were sworn enemies, and so were they.”
Manberia smiled. “My father regarded me as an enemy. Whoever killed me would be given a large fortune and formally recognized as his adopted son. With this title, one would be eligible to inherit a portion of his father’s property. It is a great temptation for illegitimate children.”
"What do you think is the right thing for me to do?" Manberia looked at me with a smile. "If you were me, what would you do? On one hand, you would fight wits and courage against the forces opposing me in the North, on the other hand, you would fight and kill my father, guard against the open and covert attacks of my illegitimate children, and you would also have to feign compliance with foreign forces, coaxing them to give me some money to support me in building railways and post roads in the North, thus strengthening my position there."
I sighed deeply, “I understand your difficulties, but you have killed too many people, which will cause you to lose their hearts. He who wins the hearts of the people wins the world, and he who loses the hearts of the people loses the world.”
“My father has more than a dozen illegitimate children who have been targeting me for a year or two. I am not afraid, but over the years, there will always be times when I am careless, and they will succeed and kill me in one fell swoop. If I can't even protect my own life, how can I talk about ruling the world?”
"What about the tens of thousands of surrendered soldiers? Don't you know that killing surrendered soldiers is an ominous sign?" I pressed.
“Those tens of thousands of surrendered soldiers were guards carefully trained by my father. They were extremely loyal to my father and had even sworn a blood oath. They could not possibly surrender sincerely. If my father were to return one day, they would surely pledge allegiance again, and I would have to pay a great price to deal with them.”
"But have you ever thought that your excessively cruel behavior will frighten others, making them worry that they will suffer the same fate one day, and therefore they will want to kill you at any time?"
“I’ve thought about this for a long time,” Manberia said slowly, “so I will wipe them out in one fell swoop.”
"If you're so capable, why were you placed under house arrest a few days ago?" I said sarcastically.
Manberia looked closely into my eyes. "Yes, I admit that I have made mistakes and underestimated them, but that doesn't mean I'm incapable of wiping them out in one fell swoop."
I said calmly, "I don't want to tell you how I control vengeful spirits. Even if I did, you wouldn't be able to do it. My ability was given to me by the Elf Queen. I also won't help you control vengeful spirits to deal with others. I only use them for emergency escapes."
Manberia looked into my eyes and said gently, "You don't need to tell me how to control vengeful spirits, nor do you have to help me. Just do what you want."
Playing hard to get? I didn't say anything, nor did I look at him again.
Deep winter continued, with thick snow and fierce winds blowing daily, and darkness falling around three in the afternoon. Such weather made it impossible to go outside. But there was a silver lining: the bitter cold was torture for everyone, and waging war would come at a high cost. Even knowing that Manberia had fled here, they couldn't afford to go to great lengths to attack.
This place is fifty kilometers away from the capital, and there are many ditches and snow along the way. There are no mountains on all sides, and the wind is extremely strong, making travel particularly difficult.
"In another month, as the deep winter slowly comes to an end, we'll have to start fighting."
I once heard Manberia say this to a few of his confidants: the cold of deep winter had become a natural defense against war.
Since arriving in this royal city, I've rarely spoken to Manboa. He's busy, and so am I. He's busy with various meetings with his confidants, while I'm busy with the various royal city documents and financial statements he's given me. He said, "You also have to fulfill the duties of the chief steward of internal affairs here, and you also have to manage the finances. Of course, I'll pay you a salary."
If you have money, everything is negotiable, and I won't refuse, since I have nothing else to do anyway.
He would occasionally ask me, almost in a flattering tone, "Are you somewhat dissatisfied with me, with what I did to my father?"
I usually ignore him, but he will continue, "Don't take it personally, I sometimes have no choice."
I still ignored him, so he stopped talking and sat down silently beside me. Several times when I looked up from the financial statements, our eyes met. He had clearly been observing me, so every time I looked up, our eyes met.
He smiled slightly at me, and I turned my head away.
Half an hour later, I looked up again and found that he was no longer there. The room was empty, with only the faint scent of incense lingering on him.
I felt a sense of loss, but I didn't know where this feeling came from.
That day, Mamboa received urgent intelligence: the young boy, the king of the North, had passed away.
"They left in the middle of the night yesterday, and the news is only just arriving now," a guard said respectfully. It was now four in the morning.
I overheard their conversation outside my bedroom. I've been sleeping poorly lately, waking up at the slightest sound. Mamboya sleeps on the single bed outside my bedroom, saying he'll stand guard for me every night, protecting my safety. I'm furious, thinking he has ulterior motives, but I can't get rid of him.
That night, when someone spoke to him, I woke almost immediately. Barefoot, I pressed myself against the door, listening to their conversation. I even heard Mamboya ask, "When will they put his brother on the throne?"
"Two days later, everything was actually ready."
"knew."
"Your Highness, what do we need to do?"
"Nothing is needed. He ascended the throne legitimately. Let them be."
The guards visibly paused for a few seconds, but left without saying anything more.
The door suddenly opened, and I almost fell over because I was pressed against it. Manberia caught me and teased, "You missed me, didn't you? Why don't you lie down on my bed?"
I rolled my eyes at him and shook off his hand.
After daybreak, I didn't see him again. Without asking, I knew he was busy with his younger brother's ascension to the throne. Don't be fooled by his seemingly indifferent demeanor; that's just a facade. He doesn't like showing his true self to others, including me.
He had a difficult childhood, with his parents arguing and separating, his stepmother being vicious, his sister dying tragically, and being sent to the land of death. All of this filled him with unease and distrust of people.
Later, his illicit affair with the Empress Dowager, coupled with his ambition and desire for power, transformed him into a seemingly cynical and ruthless individual, one who was also genuinely cruel and cold-blooded. Perhaps all politicians are like this; they possess little genuine emotion and are driven more by the pursuit of self-interest.
"Wherever the superpowered woman is, that's where the turning point lies." I murmured to myself. I felt like a tool, being taken away from me by those in positions of power.
Being the chief mistress, the high-ranking mistress, the second wife, and the legally married wife in a marriage certificate—these are all my identities in this other world. The chief mistress of Bernot, the high-ranking mistress of the Elf King, the second wife of Deyaro, and the legally married wife of Manboa. Oh, and I was also Attis's fourth or fifth wife, I can't quite remember. Oh well, we're divorced anyway.
A letter was suddenly thrust in front of me. I approached it curiously, and Manberia's mocking voice came through, "This is Duke Yedana's letter of accusation against me, saying that I poisoned the former king. But how could that be? The former king was my cash cow and my protector. How could I possibly kill him?"
"What are they thinking?" I opened the letter and read the long, inflammatory battle cry.
"They want my life. Once I'm dead, they can control the entire palace."
"Will the other nobles support this duke?" I asked softly. "They've only supported another Manberia."
The elder brother is dead, and the younger brother has ascended the throne. The elder brother was controlled by Mamboa during his lifetime; will the younger brother now be controlled by Duke Yedana?
But what does all this have to do with me?! I don't know my brothers at all, I don't have a deep comradeship with Manboa, and I don't have any deep hatred for that Duke Yedana. What does all this have to do with me?
I returned the letter to Manberia with a faint smile, "I asked too many questions."
“How could that be?” Mamboya laughed coquettishly. “You’re just concerned about your husband.”
I turned to leave, but he hugged me tightly around the waist. "Don't go. I don't have much left. The only thing I cherish most is you."
"I won't do anything for you." I smiled.
“But you have to do something for yourself.” He suddenly said something surprising. “Are you willing to be trapped here? Don’t you want to take back your Great City in the West? If I can get through this crisis, I am willing to send troops to the West to help you take back the Great City.”
I slowly turned around. All the sweet words and marriage contracts were not as real as what he had just said.
"Are you willing to sign a formal agreement for this?" I asked slowly.
"Of course, definitely. I will have the clerk draft a formal agreement for you to review, and I hope you are satisfied with it."
I finally smiled and said, "Okay."
"But you need to think this through. Even if you reclaim the capital, you'll only be doing the work for someone else. The throne will ultimately fall into Beatrice's hands. Even if Beatrice dies, the position won't be yours. The West is more focused on bloodlines than the North; those who aren't of royal blood have absolutely no chance of the throne."
“It’s alright,” I said slowly. “I just hate that the King of the West relentlessly pursued me and tried to kill me.”
I also hate Haiya's betrayal. Diya treated him well, providing him with good food, drink, and entertainment, yet he still betrayed her. Perhaps he was the one who poisoned Diya.
Mamboy looked at me intently and said, "As long as you don't regret it."
In my fourth month in the North, I launched my largest counter-offensive. I secretly infiltrated the capital's palace, to the chamber where, according to Manberia, the largest number of elven corpses were buried. With the help of my guards, I set the entire chamber ablaze. Since I didn't know which parts of the corpses would be most effective at burning, I simply burned the whole place down. I used a special kind of fire, the kind that could penetrate thick walls. This kind of fire was very expensive, but I didn't pay for it; I didn't consider the cost.
I had my guards place these kindling in every corner. With a few hiss, they all ignited, and the fire slowly grew fiercer. Gradually, it grew bigger and bigger. I stood outside the palace gates, put my short flute to my lips, and began to play the tune that summons vengeful spirits.
Just as the palace guards rushed towards me like a tidal wave, countless thick white mists also quickly drifted over, surrounding me completely. In an instant, I turned into white mist and flew with them.
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Author's Note: Thank you all for following this story so far!
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