James Watson had also only just arrived at the Silvermoon High Court.
The Supreme Arbiter had been pulling all-nighters for quite some time, only barely managing to wrap up his most pressing duties for the moment.
The death of the Silvermoon Knight had caused far greater repercussions than James Watson had anticipated. Morale among the troops stationed in the Orc Mountains had plummeted, and the orcs had nearly recaptured the city.
James Watson had been forced to dispatch a massive number of clerics of light to the front line.
The clerics were not there merely to support the fighting; an equally crucial duty was soothing the hearts and minds of the men.
Yet what brought James Watson some comfort was receiving word of his son, Alan, once more.
Alan had advanced to legendary rank on the battlefield, becoming the youngest legendary paladin in the empire's history. The Emperor had intended to recall Alan to receive his investiture, but Alan had chosen to remain on the front line, not even attending the Silvermoon Knight's funeral.
This caused quite a few people to harbor grievances against Alan.
Although the Silvermoon Knight had never officially taken Alan as a disciple, everyone knew that during the twilight of his life, this legendary figure had cared for Alan like his own son.
For Alan to skip even his funeral naturally led people to think the young man was utterly devoid of gratitude.
Even James Watson had felt Alan was in the wrong at first, but upon learning that the Emperor intended to relocate the old general's coffin, he realized Alan had made the right choice in staying away.
Later, when the orcs learned of the Silvermoon Knight's demise, they launched several fierce raids. In every single one, Alan led the charge at the forefront, holding back their most savage offensives.
This newly ascended legendary youth unleashed terrifying power across the battlefield. With nearly every dispatched battle report, his tremendous growth became unmistakably clear.
During the orcs' final counteroffensive, the city's defensive spell formation was breached, tearing open a massive gap. Alan led his troops to plug the breach, enduring five whole minutes under the siege of three legendary orcs. Though left grievously wounded and on the brink of death, Alan held out until reinforcements arrived and the defensive spell formation was finally repaired.
Once that battle report reached the capital, all criticism directed at Alan evaporated.
The young man had done no disservice to the Silvermoon Knight's teachings. Given a little more time, he might well become the next Silvermoon Knight.
James Watson was gratified. His rash, naive son had finally grown up, no longer the mere child who could be captured at whim by a lich and used to extort him.
Yet James Watson also gleaned numerous troubling signs from Alan's letters home.
Alan was deeply disillusioned with the Ryan Empire. He remained in the Orc Mountains precisely because he wished to avoid the imperial capital's tangled web of interpersonal politics. He had even developed thoughts of leaving Ryan entirely to wander the world.
James Watson ought to have had a heart-to-heart with his son, but then he received the letter from the Silvermoon High Court mentioning Arthur Ryan.
Nothing could possibly be more important than Arthur Ryan.
James Watson hurried through his duties, putting aside even his own son's psychological turmoil, and rushed to the Silvermoon High Court at top speed.
Yet he had barely exchanged a few pleasantries with the two Elven Kings when Catherine arrived.
Seeing the former Elven Queen, James Watson was momentarily at a loss for how to greet her. He had caught vague wind of what had happened with Catherine, but what the elves' internal stance toward her actually was remained entirely unclear to him.
It was the old elf Hildas who reacted quickly, speaking up: "Catherine arrives right on time. She experienced this matter firsthand—let her explain it to you."
James Watson also hastened to dispense with formalities, turning toward Catherine to ask, "Regarding the heroic spirit of His Majesty Arthur Ryan, could Your Grace share the details with me?"
Catherine had not expected to run into Ryan's Supreme Arbiter here either.
Anbaixiu's plan had been to first have the elves verify Arthur Ryan's identity, and then invite both the dragons and Ryan into a bidding war to sell off this heroic spirit for an astronomical price.
Upon her return, Catherine had told the old Elven King about this. Who could have guessed that without even inspecting Arthur Ryan's heroic spirit, the old man had gone ahead and notified Ryan first? Wouldn't that give Ryan time to prepare in advance?
In the past, Catherine would have done the same. Ryan was, after all, an ally.
Now, however, Catherine found herself siding with Anbaixiu, feeling that the old king had ruined a plan to make a fortune.
Compared to Ryan, Anbaixiu seemed far more like a close ally of the elven race. He was the one who had helped resolve the catastrophic threat of their race's extinction. If Ryan had discovered that secret, they likely would have kicked the elves while they were down, wouldn't they?
Furthermore, if Ryan found out about this in advance, might they send assassins directly after Anbaixiu to snatch Arthur Ryan's heroic spirit back?
Just as Catherine was caught in this dilemma, the young Elven King Aldarian spoke up: "Sister Catherine, you don't look well. Perhaps you should rest first. It won't be too late to talk later."
Catherine gave Aldarian a startled glance, surprised that he had seen right through her dilemma and was willing to lend a hand.
The old Elven King frowned. Though puzzled as to why his grandson was suddenly contradicting his decision, the young man was the Elven King now, and face had to be maintained before the Ryan envoy.
The old Elven King could only turn to James Watson and say, "In that case, please wait a moment, honored guest. We shall discuss this after Catherine has rested."
James Watson naturally sensed something was amiss. The atmosphere among these three generations of elven leaders was downright bizarre. No matter how anxious he felt inside, he had no choice but to take his leave for now.
Once the sole outsider had departed, the old Elven King could contain himself no longer and snapped at Aldarian, "What madness has seized you now? If we don't settle this matter quickly, who knows how many unforeseen complications will crop up? Do you not understand how monumental the impact of this is on Ryan?"
The young Elven King did not answer right away. Instead, he personally brought Catherine a chair, helped her sit down comfortably, and only then faced the old Elven King. "Grandfather, didn't you see that Sister Catherine is unwilling? Are you going to force her for the sake of an outsider?"
The old Elven King said angrily, "You are the King of the Elves now, not that little brat trailing behind Catherine all day! Can you really not tell what is more important? The moment anything involves Catherine, your reason completely evaporates! How am I supposed to entrust the elven race into your hands?"
Watching the furious old Elven King, Catherine felt profoundly embarrassed. This was hardly the first time the two of them had quarreled over her, and the feeling was truly awful.
Catherine could not help but speak: "Aldarian, do not make a foolish decision on my account. Your grandfather is right. You are now the King of the Elves; everything must be decided for the good of the elven race as a whole."
The young Elven King gave Catherine a brilliant smile and said, "Sister Catherine, you don't need to worry. I stopped this precisely for the sake of the elven race."
Aldarian turned his head, looking solemnly at his grandfather, and said, "I do not believe handing Arthur Ryan's heroic spirit over to Ryan is a good thing. Grandfather, if Ryan obtains this heroic spirit, what benefit does our elven race gain?"
His residual anger still simmering, the old Elven King said, "Nor is there any harm! Ryan is our ally! Is helping our ally not our duty?"
Aldarian chuckled softly and replied, "Grandfather, I know you were friends with that Holy King of Ryan. I know the depth of your bond. That is why you cannot bear to see Arthur Ryan's heroic spirit remain in the hands of a lich, and why you wish your old friend's heroic spirit to return to his empire. But today's Ryan is no longer the Ryan of the past. How long do you intend to keep deceiving yourself?"
The old Elven King fell silent.
Noticing the shift in the old Elven King's expression, Aldarian continued, "Grandfather, can Ryan even still be considered our ally today? Can you guarantee that the Ryan Emperor hasn't contemplated invading the Silvermoon High Court and executing all of us non-humans? Which of us has truly let emotion cloud his judgment? We ought to make proper use of this affair to give our recently weakened elven race breathing room. That is what an Elven King should do."
The old Elven King had no retort. This was indeed his failing.
He was someone who had lived through the era of the demonic dragons to the present day, witnessing both the founding of Ryan and its transformation over the ages. How could he not know that Ryan was no longer what it once was? Yet his feelings toward Ryan could not be altered so easily.
That was a brother who had shared life and death with him; that was the empire built through their lifelong devotion, once the most glorious and splendid kingdom on the continent.
As people grew old, they tended to reminisce about the past. This time, it truly was himself who had let sentiment sway him.
Just as the old Elven King was about to admit his error, he saw Aldarian turn toward Catherine with a beaming smile.
"Sister Catherine, rest assured, I will never let you suffer the slightest grievance. What does Ryan amount to anyway? If you don't feel like talking, just ignore that old fellow—I'll drive him straight out!"
The old Elven King roared, "You little brat made all of that up on the spot, didn't you?! Every single one of those excuses was cooked up just now!"
Aldarian coughed in mild embarrassment. Sure enough, his grandfather knew his grandson well; those words had indeed been concocted on the spot. If Catherine hadn't been put in a difficult spot, Aldarian wouldn't have minded humoring his grandfather and seeing the matter through.
Yet Catherine was displeased—so naturally, he had to take her side.
In politics, interests were never clearly divided into right and wrong. Even if he unconditionally supported returning Arthur Ryan's heroic spirit, Aldarian could have spun just as many reasons to justify it.
Looking at the upside, they could do James Watson a favor, fostering good ties with Ryan's Supreme Arbiter, which would surely yield plenty of benefits.
Looking at the downside from Ryan's perspective, the ones most terrified of Arthur Ryan's heroic spirit returning would be the Ryan imperial family. Present-day Ryan had drifted so far from the Holy King's original ideals; the return of the heroic spirit would inevitably trigger immense turmoil in Ryan. And a weakened ally would also benefit the elves.
He could argue either side with the same mouth; Aldarian could frame it however he pleased.
From a very young age, Aldarian had known that politics was like a lump of dough to be kneaded at will, shapeable into whatever form one desired.
Unlike other monarchs on the continent, Aldarian cared little for grand directions and grand designs. He preferred tangible, practical things—perhaps an attitude shaped by traveling alongside his parents on adventures during his youth.
Aldarian's parents had both been Twilight Guards, and adventurous ones at that; Aldarian had even been born on the road during their travels.
Consequently, Aldarian's upbringing differed vastly from that of traditional elves. He was a child who had grown up amid the deception and cutthroat realities of the adventurer's life. Everything he had witnessed in childhood was the genuine, unvarnished life of common folk. Thus, Aldarian believed that what truly governed a nation's functioning was not specious grand theories or sweeping visions, but the concrete, detailed rules implemented on the ground.
Back when he assisted Catherine, every single policy was formulated through on-the-ground surveys and visits, fine-tuned to match the distinct conditions of each city across the Silvermoon High Court.
How many hardships did elves of different professions and regions face from birth to death? Where could optimizations be made, and what problems needed solving? Aldarian had devoted decades to studying these questions. His goal was to reduce elves' working hours, increase productivity, cut production costs, and improve output and social welfare.
Aldarian optimized every facet of elven society, and the ultimate result was that elves finally became willing to have children. During the period he managed affairs, the elven birthrate saw a noticeable rise—and that was his crowning achievement.
Aldarian disliked empty, high-sounding political excuses, but that did not mean he couldn't make them.
Wasn't it just spinning tall tales? Good or bad could be argued either way by the same tongue. True fortune or peril never depended on diplomatic ties, but on the balance of national power.
The Silvermoon High Court's strength was severely diminished now. Half its population remained under seals, capable of only the most basic labor and unfit even for battle—a predicament that would plague the court for centuries to come.
Aldarian only wanted to restore national strength as quickly as possible. Arthur Ryan's heroic spirit or whatever else was utterly inconsequential.
Since it was inconsequential, catering to the feelings of those by his side was naturally what mattered most.
The old Elven King's feelings mattered more than his own notions, and Catherine's feelings mattered more than the old Elven King's. Aldarian had reached a decision without a shred of hesitation: Catherine would have the final say on this matter.
Aldarian promised with complete earnestness, "Sister Catherine, handle this however you wish. Don't worry. Whatever you want to do is fine—I'll take care of everything for you!"
Catherine had not expected the final decision to fall into her lap. Having gone through such a tremendous upheaval, she no longer had the confidence to handle affairs of state. After hesitating for a long while, Catherine faltered, "Or perhaps... I should ask that lich."
Chapter 266