Loren Felt Everyone Questioning Him

The lighting in the House of Lords conference room was focused yet dim, casting a muted glow over the documents and maps on the table. Duke Moretti took a deep breath. "Wilfort, you are mistaken about one thing. Regardless of whether our enemy is the Horning Empire or the Blood Clan, what we must consider right now is the feasibility of fighting. Resistance will inevitably fail. Continuing down this path will only lead to our army's destruction. Please analyze the situation rationally." In comparison, Duke Moretti appeared far calmer and more prudent, reminding everyone present of reason and pragmatism. The other peers in the room seemed hesitant and uneasy during this dispute. They exchanged anxious glances, looking now at the Prime Minister at the head of the table, now at the Duke. The tension was palpable. "The strait north of the continent is our natural trench and battlement, the vastest expanse of water those southerners of the Horning Empire have ever seen. We possess experience and geographical superiority. The Blood Clan will not dare engage us at sea. And on land, those daylight-fearing creatures have no absolute security once the sun rises," Lanqi stated in a measured tone. "And when that time comes, men and women, young and old, will despise us for our blunders and neglect of duty—because we failed to keep them safe, forcing them to face the Blood Clan unarmed." Duke Moretti pressed forward relentlessly. "Once the Kingdom of Fukelo and the Kingdom of Edith on our eastern and western flanks fall, we will be encircled and devoured on land. Even the northern snowfields behind us will be blockaded, rendering your maritime defense moot. What will we use to confront the Horning Empire then? Do you honestly think they won't wage a war of attrition? The Horning Empire has all the patience in the world. They have the entire southern continent at their back, but what lies at ours? Teetering neighbors that could turn hostile at any moment? A barren snowfield shrouded in eternal darkness? Or the ravenous, equally uncommunicative demon race lurking beyond it?" "I will make every diplomatic effort to seek aid from neutral nations," Lanqi countered at once. Compared to Duke Moretti's razor-sharp interrogation, his reply was remarkably brief. "Prime Minister, you should not bypass me to attempt diplomacy with other nations. That shows a lack of trust in me," Duke Moretti, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, said with a shake of his head. "Yet up to now, aside from seeking an opportunity for peace talks with the Horning Empire, have you ever considered lowering your pride and asking neutral nations for help?" Lanqi challenged. "Heh, I hardly know whether to call you optimistic or naive, Prime Minister. Neutral nations? Pick any young man in Parliament with even a rudimentary grasp of history and ask him why any country remains neutral at a juncture like this, and he could give you the answer. If we could be a neutral nation reaping the final spoils, would our Polant Empire not prefer to be the last to enter the fray?" The question was met only with Duke Moretti's frigid mockery. "Setting aside hegemons far mightier than ourselves, if you have the capability, go convince a neutral nation even evenly matched with us to aid the Kingdom of Bliss and give our people a shred of confidence! Rather than making us risk everything when we have no chance of winning, indulging in armchair strategy and hollow bluster." Although his tone still held the restraint of a diplomat, the confrontation between the two had grown increasingly fierce, verging on an open quarrel. As Duke Moretti's words faded, many peers lowered their heads with weary sighs. It was not that the Prime Minister lacked rhetorical skill compared to Moretti. Rather, at this critical juncture and in the face of harsh reality, panic gripped all of Hersalem. They could not help but lean toward Duke Moretti and contemplate the possibility of the peace talks he proposed. No one saw any hope of victory. Even if the courage radiating from the Prime Minister burned like a flame, none wished to act as moths diving into the fire. If the Prime Minister would relent right now, they could fall in line with Duke Moretti's proposal, shift the political winds in Hersalem, and actively prepare for negotiations. "Say no more. I will not alter my conviction. Our Polant Empire will show the Blood Clan our backbone. They will never conquer all of humanity. I will take full responsibility for this." Lanqi rose, pushed his chair back into the table, and swept his gaze across the room. "Are you certain?" Duke Moretti's voice finally turned icy. "Yes. That is precisely why I sit in this chair." Lanqi released his grip on the chair. The heavy clatter of its legs settling onto the floor jolted the surrounding peers back to their senses. Duke Moretti was not intimidated in the least. "Are we to understand, then, that the Prime Minister has completely rejected any possibility of negotiations with the Horning Empire?" Having said this, Moretti cast a quiet look toward the members of the conservative faction. "..." Lanqi offered no answer. This time, he did not rebut Moretti or display his uncompromising stance. He simply walked out of the conference room alone, his retreating back declaring the meeting at an end. ... Inside the Parliament Building. As Lanqi turned into an empty corridor corner, Boss Cat leaped out of his shadow and slipped into his coat. "Meow, meow, meow! Why didn't you keep fighting back? Are you really thinking about surrendering?" Boss Cat asked Lanqi in an imperceptible whisper. It was worried sick, terrified that Lanqi had actually been persuaded. It saw that the current status of the Polant Empire had changed to: [Public Morale: 132 → 145/1000 (Popular support and cohesion)] [Parliament: 419 → 305 → 252/1000 (Approval rating among Polant Empire leadership)] [Military Strength: 124/1000 (Benchmarked against the Horning Empire)] [Finances: 221 → 222/1000 (Current productivity status of the Polant Empire)] [Diplomacy: 115/1000 (Diplomatic relations with the Demon Realm and unvanquished neighboring nations)] Unsurprisingly, the overall odds of victory remained firmly locked at zero, as the aggregate figures were only worsening. It had been a little over a day since they entered this Shadow World. At present, just over forty-three days remained. On the first day, aside from familiarizing himself with and rallying those around him, Lanqi had given a public inaugural address before the press. Public Morale had surged from 132 to 145, seemingly continuing a slow, steady climb as the news spread. However, because he publicly voiced his intent to mount an active resistance, he had alienated the conservative faction. The Parliament stat plummeted from 419 to 305, and following his recent altercation with Duke Moretti, it had plunged once again. The slight shift in Finances was likely because the populace felt inspired by Lanqi, gaining a touch more confidence and marginally lifting productivity. Military Strength and Diplomacy had not budged. "If I had kept arguing against Duke Moretti just now, I would have left written evidence that I 'reject all possibility of peace talks.' He was trying to trap me. Moretti likely stationed a stenographer in the adjoining room to record our conversation. That would become ammunition for the conservative faction to impeach me, so I could not acknowledge it under any circumstances," Lanqi replied to the little sootball in a near-inaudible murmur. "Meow." Boss Cat came to an abrupt realization. *There was a snare like that?* *Thank goodness you reacted in time, or Parliament might have plummeted straight below a hundred, ending the game right then and there.* *Wait, aren't you a little too practiced at this?* *How does an art student turn into a seasoned political operator the moment he sets foot in parliament?* ... In the highest-floor conference room of the School of Sages main building at Ikerite Academy, light poured through the pale-walled room, and the potted greenery resting on the broad windowsills infused the space with constant vitality. Yet at this moment... Inside this conference room, contentious topics kept erupting into fierce debates, creating a disorderly clamor. "Lanqi has a few choices right now. First, he can only cater to either Public Morale or Parliament; he must strike a balance as best he can, apply his knowledge to reform the Polant Empire, and boost Military Strength or Finances as much as possible in the short term. Only then can he hope to alter the 0% odds of victory," several professors discussed. The tables and chairs were arranged in circular formations, several large round tables encircling the central projection screen. Five or six faculty members sat at each table, either frowning as they studied the screen or actively conferring with their colleagues. Rather than a formal meeting, it resembled a seminar or evaluation panel. "Lanqi's progress with Public Morale isn't bad at all. If the House didn't drag him down and prove so troublesome to manage, going all out might have allowed him to push Public Morale quite high by the end." Seeing Lanqi trapped in a dilemma within the Shadow World, those outside had likewise deduced the trade-off between Public Morale and Parliament. Though Lanqi possessed a knack for rallying the populace, the cost was a sharp drop in parliamentary support. The public naturally yearned for a prime minister who could lead them to victory, whereas Parliament was dominated by conservatives—a rigid establishment Lanqi could not dismantle overnight. Even so, both metrics were secondary. While the exact victory formula was unknown, one thing was certain: Military Strength and Finances were the two indicators most heavily correlated with success in this Shadow World. Even if Public Morale and Parliament were pushed to the ceiling, with inadequate military might or meager finances, the chance of victory would remain zero. "Right now, time is Lanqi's principal asset, and every passing day is an expenditure. Aside from the time necessary to stabilize Public Morale and Parliament, everything hinges on how he chooses to allocate his hours toward the other three areas." "As a magic artificer from a different era, grasping at straws, Lanqi might scrape together a slight military boost over forty-odd days. Unfortunately, he isn't a seventh- or eighth-tier artificer, so bringing about a dramatic enhancement will be difficult." "In peacetime, Lanqi could act ruthlessly, sacrificing Diplomacy to bolster Finances. But in wartime, productivity cannot simply be conjured out of thin air, and Diplomacy can't fall any lower. Although inspiring the populace can marginally affect productivity, there is a ceiling after all." "As for Diplomacy, the main issue is the time required. The other four metrics operate roughly on a daily scale, but pursuing diplomatic channels will consume weeks at a minimum. If it fails, it's pure wasted time with zero return." Vice Dean Ron of the School of Sages capped his pen, summarizing the conclusions they had reached over the past two days. He glanced toward Loren at the head of the table, then shifted his gaze to the silver-haired woman from the Church of the Goddess of Fate beside him—the legendary Saintess of the Northern Continent—and held his tongue. He knew Dean Loren had his hands more than full. Ever since rushing back to the royal capital of Ikerite and returning to this emergency conference room in the School of Sages, Loren had barely uttered a word. This seventh-tier Shadow World was no longer just an internal matter for the School of Sages. Professors from the School of Magic Engineering and the School of Alchemy were also present, analyzing the situation in real time. They had to provide assessments to the Southern Continent United Kingdom Council and the Shadow World Management Association. Should the Shadow World spiral out of control and trigger an unpredictable catastrophe, the Council and the Association would need to immediately roll out containment measures. According to their current evaluation, this was no ordinary seventh-tier Shadow World; it belonged to an exceptionally difficult strategic archetype. "Loren..." The Ice Snow Witch sat beside Loren, gritting her teeth. She had accompanied him to the conference room at Ikerite Academy, the air around her chilled as if threatening to freeze. She had originally intended to travel leisurely across the Southern Continent to Ikerite to see how Hyperion was faring, only to be struck by a bolt from the blue the moment she reached the Hutton Kingdom. When she first learned the news, she had nearly throttled Loren, demanding he return her Hyperion. Hyperion had not activated any live broadcast. She seemed unwilling to record her surroundings, leaving them able to observe only Lanqi's situation, without even knowing whether Hyperion was safe. "..." Loren was sweating profusely, sitting as if on pins and needles. He had no idea how he was going to survive these next forty-odd days. He had harbored a faint hope that Lanqi might have acquired enough new skills over the past six months to stand a genuine chance in a seventh-tier Shadow World. Yet watching Lanqi's first day inside, Loren felt his heart sink halfway into an abyss. This Shadow World leaned far more toward strategy and mechanics than direct combat. Even if Loren himself were thrown in, he wouldn't stand much chance of clearing it, for he could never face the entire Horning Empire alone. Not only was he baffled as to why Lanqi had stirred up such massive trouble the moment he returned, but Loren also felt as though he were suddenly taking on the entire world. The Hutton nobility, His Majesty the King, the Southern Continent United Kingdom Council, the Church... every single one of them was now bombarding him with question marks!