"According to the proposal submitted by Count Dawn Drake, the Empire will continue to conduct in-depth research into various emerging military fields."
"We anticipate an investment of 7.2 million gold dinars, focusing on large-scale elemental weapons, long-range lethal weaponry, tracked armored combat vehicles..."
"I object!"
A clear female voice echoed through the hall, turning heads across the chamber.
A lady with silver hair and blue eyes raised her slender hand and rose from her seat.
She wore a solemn, elegant gown. A flicker of indignation showed on her delicate face, and her gray-blue eyes held no trace of fear.
It was Olivia, now a member of the Imperial Parliament.
Pushing the silver-framed glasses up the bridge of her nose, she flipped through the documents in her hands and continued in a ringing voice:
"According to figures from the Department of Statistics, military expenditures already account for twenty percent of the entire imperial budget. A military outlay of this scale imposes an immense burden on the imperial populace."
"Not only do I oppose Duke Duoluo's move to further increase military spending, but I also believe the Empire should reduce military expenditures and direct more funding toward education, healthcare, and poverty alleviation."
"I have here a new proposal that outlines in detail the measures the Empire should adopt in these areas and redistributes the budget accordingly."
The hall instantly erupted into an uproar of hushed chatter.
"It's Representative Olivia again! How does she dare say such things?"
"She's crossing the military."
"Tsk, tsk. Openly refuting Count Dawn's proposal—she certainly has nerve."
"Humans will be humans, only knowing how to squander resources. Pouring gold into those weaklings would be worse than throwing it into a river!"
The imperial citizens in the hall wore varied expressions: some sneered, some fell silent, and others murmured admiration.
This hall was the renowned Imperial Council Hall, the primary venue for convening the Imperial Assembly.
The hall was divided into two main tiers, each lined with neat rows of red benches capable of accommodating over ten thousand people.
Above, the four walls were adorned with stained glass and seven murals depicting the history of the Cinder Empire and celebrating the Emperor's achievements.
At the very center of the domed ceiling, a majestic dragon's head was carved, its pale-gold slit pupils gazing down upon everything within the hall, symbolizing the Emperor's supreme authority.
At the southern end stood the golden throne beneath a canopy, where the Emperor could sit at any time.
In front of the throne lay the seat of the Imperial Prime Minister—a massive, backless red-and-gold cushion stuffed with wool. Trump sat there now, looking like an amused spectator watching a good show.
"Tsk, tsk..."
"The military is in for a rough time. Just as well—certain people have been needing a bit of a reality check lately."
The ogre's lips curled slightly into a smirk.
If an ordinary person had raised an objection, Duoluo would never have let them off easily. But Miss Olivia's background was far too extraordinary.
A silver dragon.
One with extraordinarily close ties to His Majesty.
She even resided in an annex of the Steel Dragonwing Palace. In theory, she could bring matters straight to the Emperor himself.
Following institutional reforms, the Empire had adopted a bicameral system: the House of Commons, composed of commoners, and the House of Lords, made up of the dragonblood nobility and otherwise known as the Dragonblood Council.
The House of Lords comprised more than six hundred dragonblood nobles, holding legislative and fiscal authority whenever the Imperial Assembly was in session.
The House of Commons played an auxiliary role in the hall, overseeing the work of the Upper House, assisting with legislation, and exercising the "power of delay" and the "right of interpellation" to amend or reject motions.
While that was how it worked in theory, members of the Lower House rarely exercised their powers or clashed directly with the dragonblood nobility. Most of the time, they only voiced insignificant opinions.
The real rulers of the nation—or rather, the class temporarily granted power by Cassius—were blindingly obvious.
At this moment, undercurrents surged within the Imperial Council Hall.
The members of the House of Lords—the dragonblood nobles—sat on the three-sided tiers of circular red benches on the upper level, casting distinctly unfriendly glares at Olivia.
"Who is she?"
"Military affairs are none of their business!"
"Who is she, a mere human, to lecture Count Dawn on his proposal? That was drafted with Duke Duoluo's blessing!"
"Indeed. Count Dawn is the public head of the Claubau Military Industry Group."
Members of the House of Commons sat on modest chairs on the lower tier. Many hardly dared breathe, whispering among themselves for fear of offending the duke.
Yet a good number of scholar-turned-legislators voiced support for her.
"Who... who is she?"
"How can this lady be so reckless?"
"Still, I don't think she's wrong. The Empire's military investment really is excessive—it's reached the point of exhausting the people and draining the treasury."
Yet Olivia stood firm at her seat, clutching her documents and looking back at the dragonblood nobles without the slightest fear, her eyes bright and piercing.
"As a member of the Imperial House of Commons, I have the right to question Duke Duoluo's proposal, and even to delay it..."
"Insolence!"
A bugbear count slammed his hand on the desk and sprang to his feet, glaring furiously at Olivia as she spoke from below.
"This is a joint resolution by Duke Duoluo and six hundred dragonblood nobles, carrying the highest authority beneath the Emperor's imperial edicts! How dare you question it?"
Olivia replied calmly, "Yet this is fully in accord with the Empire's statutory regulations."
Sitting on the elders' cushioned bench, Duoluo showed no anger. He merely waved a hand, signaling Count Dawn beside him to speak.
Count Dawn stood at once and said in a heavy voice, "Representative Olivia, it appears you have never worked in government and do not understand how the Empire operates."
"Increasing investment in the arms industry will not only avoid placing a fiscal burden on us, but will also yield rich returns and generate a vast number of jobs."
"Have you not read the imperial financial reports? The Claubau Military Industry Group is a pillar of imperial revenue! Without further investment in our arms industry, where would the funds come from to invest in education and healthcare?"
"That is sophistry," Olivia countered.
"The Empire's assets do not belong to the military. They are the fruit of the hard labor of countless imperial citizens, and those people deserve appropriate compensation!"
"If you keep pouring this gold into the arms industry, it will only line the pockets of you dragonblood nobles!"
A single stone caused a thousand ripples.
The entire Imperial Council Hall broke into an uproar. No one had imagined anyone would dare declare open war against the dragonblood nobility!
Even as the scholars and citizens admired her courage, they sighed inwardly, grieving for this lady as radiant as the stars.
The dragonblood nobility was a colossal titan straddling the Empire's politics, military, and economy.
To offend them meant she would find it impossible to take a single step in the Empire, and it might even cost her her life.
Count Dawn said, "As far as I know, imperial statutes dictate that an action of the House of Commons requires the consent of more than sixty percent of its members to take effect."
The hobgoblin count looked around, gazing down upon the representatives in their seats, and said evenly, "Distinguished representatives, do you support Representative Olivia's actions?"
"Those in favor, please raise your hands."
The hall fell dead silent.
The air seemed to freeze. The representatives who had just been loudly voicing support fell unanimously quiet.
None of them were pure idealists.
No one wanted to risk the wrath of the military for an impractical proposal, all to back an ordinary legislator with no established foundation.
Anxiety crept across Olivia's face. Her left hand clenched the fabric of her skirt, yet she was powerless.
The other party was indeed acting strictly by the rules.
This was precisely what she considered the flaw in the imperial system: power was firmly held in the hands of the martial aristocracy.
Legislators like her seemed utterly inconsequential.
Dawn's expression remained unchanged, though a dismissive smirk touched the corner of his lips. Tucking away his papers, he said, "Since there are no objections, then..."
"I object."
A flat voice rang out.
Dawn turned toward the sound, and his expression instantly became an extraordinary sight, warping into outright shock.
"Has nobody in the Ministry of Military Affairs read my piece, *Guarding Against Barbaric Growth*?"
"The imperial populace has indeed not received the treatment they deserve. As His Majesty Cassius once said, 'Expecting a horse to run without letting it graze is unrealistic.'"
"If this continues, their efficiency and the quality of their labor will decline. By all reason and principle, the imperial administration ought to grant them the welfare benefits they are due."
Upon the red-and-gold cushion symbolizing executive power, Prime Minister Trump straightened his posture, an unsightly smile spreading across his face.
"Since that is your wish, Prime Minister..."
Dawn bowed his head, his voice trailing away, devoid of the confidence he had displayed just moments before.
That was the Imperial Prime Minister. When His Majesty Cassius rested, Trump was the very embodiment of supreme authority.
In other words, Trump possessed absolute veto power over any proposal.
"The Prime Minister is right!"
"Duke Trump is truly benevolent! If you ask me, the Empire's welfare benefits are long overdue for an increase!"
"Exactly! Wasn't the last worker uprising caused by the military squeezing them too hard?"
The moment the Prime Minister spoke, the Council Hall sprang back to life as every faction leaped into the fray.
The representatives who had previously remained silent now vied to speak, quoting statutes and precedents in support of the Prime Minister's remarks.
Meanwhile, Duoluo's face, seated on the senior bench, darkened to the color of pitch.
At his signal, the military generals hastily rose, striving to push back.
"That incident was caused by the military?"
"You're flinging mud! Those rioters took gold from the northern nobles! They launched that rebellion intending to subvert the Empire!"
"The situation across the continent is precarious right now! If we abandon military development, how will the Empire maintain a firm foothold in the south?"
"Yet from the perspective of long-term development, welfare and healthcare are essential!"
Both sides traded barbs, arguing until their faces were red, and the atmosphere in the hall grew increasingly fiery.
Before long, the matter had transcended the original issue, escalating into a political struggle—a game between the military and the civil administration.
"This..."
Clutching her thick stack of documents, Olivia watched the endlessly bickering crowd. Her mouth opened slightly, feeling somewhat lost.
*No matter what, I will uphold my duty.*
*This country shouldn't be like this. It can become better.*
Olivia pursed her lips, secretly resolved.
Yet a deep sense of powerlessness washed over her; she seemed unable to change anything.
Although the imperial system called itself "democratic and equal," in practice it was merely a tool for competing interest groups to spar with one another.
A legislator like her, without backers or wealth, had no way to make her voice heard or influence the Empire's decisions.
A righteous, good-aligned silver dragon despised such an atmosphere.
Wait—
A backer?
In the Cinder Empire, who was the greatest backer of all?
The answer was beyond question.
Olivia's gray-blue eyes instantly brightened, though a wave of awkwardness and hesitation followed close behind.
*Would doing this really be appropriate?*
In the end, the silver dragon made up her mind, determined to do everything in her power to see this through—even if it seemed to wound her pride.
Looking toward the distant palace, Olivia whispered, "Perhaps I could go talk to Cassius..."
***
On the outskirts of Northwind Keep, at the Steel Dragonwing Palace.
Built along the contours of the mountain in the shape of dragon wings, the palace remained as grand and magnificent as ever.
This was the dwelling of the legendary Cinder Emperor, the Red Emperor, the Infernal Scourge, the Genie-Devouring Dragon—Cassius Claubau Norixius.
In the minds of the Empire's many subjects, this palace where the red dragon resided was sacred, virtually a divine kingdom on earth.
And in the minds of humans, elves, dwarves, and other intelligent beings across the Feanso Continent, it was a treasure vault symbolizing boundless wealth.
Indeed, the Emperor was widely renowned across the continent.
Yet what made him a household name was not his fierce feat of defeating Oszedro, but the Empire's goods.
Bearing the dragon's head emblem and the mark "Made in the Empire," goods celebrated for their novelty, utility, and affordability had permeated every aspect of life across Feanso.
On brutal battlefields, soldiers fired imperial-made firearms at one another; on freezing winter nights, peasants slept soundly wrapped in imperial-made cotton coats.
Rumors spread that this Red Dragon Emperor had earned countless gold coins by selling firearms, wool sweaters, tobacco, and other goods stamped with "Made in the Empire."
It was whispered that the Emperor had hollowed out the mountain beside his palace, filling it entirely with a hundred million gold coins.
Many adventurers drooled over this hoard, but none dared make the attempt; even the boldest had mostly died within imperial borders.
Thus, in tales told across the continent, this dragon of infinite riches slept each day upon a sea of gold.
In reality, Cassius had spent little time sleeping over the past year, instead immersing himself in studying spells and assimilating his power.
Within the palace's grand hall, an immense red dragon lay stretched across the floor. He extended a talon, upon which fire and lightning intertwined, crashing against each other.
Yet the lightning grew dimmer and dimmer, finally extinguishing within the flames.
"As I thought... What a pity. Under the traits of an Elemental Master, I cannot coordinate two elements at the same time."
"Do I really need to take a trip to the Quasi-Elemental Plane of Lightning?"
Cassius sighed with a hint of regret, puffs of sulfurous smoke drifting from his jaws.
Supporting himself on his powerful forelimbs, the red dragon slowly rose from the floor, his long, thick tail brushing against the wall behind him.
"It really is getting cramped. I'll have to expand it in a couple of days."
To Cassius's current size, the palace's main hall felt increasingly constricting and narrow.
From head to tail, the red dragon now measured over forty meters long, solidly placing him in the category of a "Colossal dragon" according to his status screen.
This had already shattered the physiological limits of most ordinary red dragons. Even among great wyrms who had lived over twelve hundred years, few ever reached such proportions.
What was more terrifying was that this was by no means the end for Cassius—it was merely the beginning. The red dragon was still growing rapidly at the rate typical of a juvenile dragon, and no one knew how colossal he would eventually become.
Could he be a progenitor dragon?
Even dragon deities like Tiamat, Bahamut, and Sardior were watching closely.
Yet their eyes could no longer pierce the Imperial Domain to see all this. Within the red dragon's empire, even gods were blinded.
Suddenly, Cassius sensed a familiar scent of rain. Utilizing the authority of his Imperial Domain to perceive the outside world, he found a former temporary resident standing outside the palace.
"Olivia?"
"Now there's a rare guest."
Chapter 474