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Chapter 478: Olivia's Proposal
"According to Lord Darn Drak’s proposal, the Empire will continue deepening its research into emerging Military Realms."
"We anticipate an investment of seven million Golden Nael, primarily focused on Massive Elemental Weapons, Long-Range Lethal Weapons, and Tracked Armored Combat Vehicles."
"I object!"
A clear, resonant female voice cut through the hall, drawing every eye.
There, standing with elegant poise, was a silver-haired lady in a dignified gown. Her delicate face bore a hint of irritation, her blue-gray eyes calm and unafraid—no trace of fear.
—Olivia. The Empire’s newest senator.
She adjusted her silver-rimmed glasses, flipping through the documents in her hand, then spoke aloud with unwavering clarity:
"According to statistics from the Department of Census, Military Experience Expenditure now accounts for 20% of the entire Empire’s budget. This level of spending is a massive burden on the people of the Empire."
"I not only oppose Duke Dolo’s push to further increase military spending, but I also believe the Empire should reduce its military funding—redirecting those resources toward Education and Healthcare, Poverty Relief, and other vital realms."
"I have here a new proposal—detailed and comprehensive—outlining the specific measures the Empire should take in these areas, along with a restructured budget allocation."
The hall erupted in murmurs.
"Again, it’s that Olivia!"
"Does she have no sense of caution?"
"Brave—or foolish—to openly challenge Baron Darn’s proposal!"
"Humans. Always wasting resources on the weak. Better to just pour it into the river!"
Citizens in the hall wore a mix of expressions—some sneered, others remained silent, while a few nodded in quiet admiration.
This grand chamber was none other than the Imperial Council Hall, the heart of the Empire’s legislative body.
Divided into two levels, the hall featured rows of red seats that could accommodate tens of thousands. The upper walls were adorned with stained-glass windows and seven magnificent murals depicting the history of the Ashen Empire and the merits of its Emperors.
At the very center of the dome, a carved dragon’s head loomed—its pale golden vertical pupils gazing down upon the chamber, a symbol of the Emperor’s absolute authority.
At the southern end stood the golden throne beneath a lavish canopy—where the Emperor himself could sit at any time. Before it, on a massive, plush crimson-and-gold cushion, sat the Imperial Prime Minister: Lanpu.
He lounged there now, eyes gleaming with amusement—watching the drama unfold like a spectator at a play.
"Ah… tch."
A faint smirk curled at the corner of the ogre’s lips.
The Military Faction’s in for a rough ride. Just what some of them need.
If it were any other commoner, Dolo would have crushed them without hesitation. But Olivia was no ordinary figure.
She was a Silver Dragon.
Closely tied to the Emperor.
And she resided in the secondary wing of the Iron Dragon Palace—meaning she could, in theory, bring any matter straight to the Emperor’s throne.
Since the reforms, the Empire operated under a Bicameral System: the Lower House, composed of civilians, and the Upper House, made up of Dragon-Blooded Nobles—commonly known as the Dragonblood Council.
The Upper House, with over six hundred members, held full legislative and fiscal power during Imperial Conventions.
The Lower House, seated in the lower tier, served mainly as an advisory and oversight body—its role limited to assisting the Upper House, delaying legislation via the Delay Power, and exercising the Interrogation Right to question or amend proposals.
Theoretically, all was balanced.
But in practice, Lower House members rarely dared to challenge the Dragon-Blooded. Most offered only mild, harmless suggestions.
The real power—indeed, the authority temporarily granted by Kai Xiusu—was now unmistakably clear.
Now, the air in the Imperial Council Hall crackled with tension.
The Dragon-Blooded Nobles in the upper tier—seated on three-sided red benches—cast cold, hostile glances at Olivia.
Who is she?
This is Military Affairs—why should they interfere?
How dare a mere human question Baron Darn’s proposal? That’s Duke Dolo’s direct order!
Yes! Baron Darn is the public face of the Claudew Military Industry Group!
Lower House senators, seated on plain wooden benches below, held their breath, whispering in fear—afraid to provoke the Duke.
Yet among them, several scholars stood in silent support.
Who is she, really?
How can she be so bold?
But… she’s right. The Empire is pouring too much into military spending. It’s already straining the people.
Yet Olivia remained standing, clutching her documents, her gaze unwavering—unflinching before the Dragon-Blooded.
"I, as a member of the Lower House, have the right to question Duke Dolo’s proposal—and even delay it."
"Bold!"
A towering Bear Goliath Baron slammed his fist on the table, rising in fury. "This is a joint decision of Duke Dolo and six hundred Dragon-Blooded Nobles! It carries the Emperor’s decree—how dare you challenge it?"
Olivia remained calm. "But this is in full compliance with the Empire’s regulations."
Dolo, seated on the elder’s cushion, did not react with anger. He merely waved a hand, signaling Baron Darn to speak.
Darn stood, voice low and heavy. "Olivia, it’s clear you’ve never worked in government. You simply don’t understand how the Empire functions."
"Expanding military industry doesn’t burden the treasury—it generates returns. It creates jobs, strengthens our defenses, and drives progress."
"Have you even seen the Empire’s financial reports? The Claudew Military Industry Group is a cornerstone of our economy! Without continued investment in defense, where would the funds come from for education, healthcare, and other realms?"
"Preposterous." Olivia countered. "The Empire’s wealth does not belong to the Military Faction. It is the product of the labor of millions of citizens. They deserve fair rewards!"
"To keep pouring gold into military industry is to funnel it straight into the pockets of Dragon-Blooded nobles!"
The hall froze.
A wave of shock swept through the chamber.
She said it. She actually said it.
No one had ever dared to openly declare war on the Dragon-Blooded in public.
Scholars and commoners alike admired her courage—but also feared for her fate.
To oppose the Dragon-Blooded was to oppose the very foundation of Empire politics, military might, and economic power.
To cross them was to invite ruin—possibly even death.
Darn spoke again: "According to the Imperial Charter, the Lower House’s power requires approval from over 60% of its members."
He turned to the hall, surveying the crowd with a cold gaze. "Fellow senators—do you support Olivia’s motion?"
"Those in favor, raise your hands."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
The air thickened.
The very people who had whispered their support moments ago now remained frozen, hands down.
They weren’t idealists.
No one wanted to risk the wrath of the Military Faction over a proposal from a relatively unknown, low-ranking senator.
Olivia’s face tightened. Her left hand clenched her skirt, but she could do nothing.
Because they were right—by the rules.
This was the flaw she saw in the Empire’s system: real power lay in the hands of the military nobles.
And senators like her? Just noise.
Darn’s expression remained unchanged—but a smug smirk tugged at his lips. He closed his file. "Since no one objects, then—"
"I object."
A quiet, steady voice cut through the silence.
Darn turned toward the source. His face twisted—shock, disbelief, then cold fury.
"Did you not read my public statement, Beware of Barbaric Development?"
"The people of the Empire are not receiving their due. King Kai Xiusu himself said: ‘To expect horses to run without feeding them is not reality.’
"Without fair treatment, labor efficiency and quality will decline. By all reason and justice, the Empire’s officials must provide the people with their rightful benefits."
On the golden-red cushion symbolizing executive authority, the Imperial Prime Minister—Lanpu—sat up straight. A grotesque smile spread across his face.
"Then if that is your wish…"
Darn’s voice dropped, shrinking like a deflated balloon.
For Lanpu was no mere minister.
In the King’s absence, he was the ultimate authority.
In short, the Prime Minister held a veto power over any proposal.
"Exactly!"
"Prime Minister Lanpu is truly benevolent!"
"Let’s be honest—last year’s Worker Uprising was caused by military oppression!"
The hall burst into renewed energy.
The previously silent senators now spoke up, citing laws, history, and ethics—supporting the Prime Minister’s stance.
Even Dolo, seated on the elder’s bench, wore a stormy expression—dark as ink.
Under his signal, military generals stood in unison, shouting down the opposition.
"That uprising was not caused by us!"
"You’re slandering us! The rioters were paid by Northern Nobles to overthrow the Empire!"
"The situation on the continent is precarious! If we abandon military development, how can we hold our ground in the South?"
"Yet long-term growth demands welfare and healthcare!"
The debate turned fierce—words flying like blades.
The conflict had long since transcended policy.
It was now a full-blown political war—between the Military Faction and the Government Administration.
Olivia stood there, clutching her thick stack of documents, watching the chaos unfold.
She opened her mouth, but found herself speechless.
"Regardless," she whispered, "I will fulfill my duty."
"This country should not be like this. It can be better."
She pressed her lips together, steeling her resolve.
Yet deep down, she felt helpless.
The Empire’s system called itself democratic and equal—but in truth, it was just a battleground for crony syndicates.
Senators like her—without backing, without wealth—could never truly be heard.
Justice. Kindness. The Silver Dragon despised this reality.
Then—backing?
Who held the real power in the Ashen Empire?
The answer was obvious.
Olivia’s blue-gray eyes lit up—then flickered with hesitation.
Is this really the right path?
But in the end, the Silver Dragon made her decision.
She would do what she could—no matter the cost to her dignity.
Her gaze drifted toward the distant palace.
Softly, she murmured:
"Maybe… I should talk to Kai Xiusu."
---
Suburbs of Northwind Keep, Iron Dragon Wing Palace.
Perched atop the mountain like a dragon’s wing, the palace remained as majestic as ever.
This was the residence of the Emperor of the Ashen Flame, the Red Emperor, the Purgatory Cataclysm, the Soul-Eating Dragon—Kai Xiusu Claudew Noirikexius.
To the common people, it was sacred—almost divine, a mortal’s version of heaven.
To the civilizations of the Feiansuo Continent—humans, elves, dwarves—the palace was a symbol of endless wealth.
Yes, the Emperor was famous.
But not for defeating Oszedro.
No.
It was for the Empire’s goods.
The Imperial Manufacture brand—marked with a dragon’s head and the words “Imperial Manufacture”—was renowned across the continent for its quality, durability, and affordability.
It had become part of daily life.
On the battlefield, soldiers fired rifles made by Imperial Manufacture.
In the freezing winter, peasants slept wrapped in Imperial Cotton Coats.
Rumors spread: the Red Dragon Emperor had built a vast empire not by conquest, but by selling rifles, sweaters, and tobacco—amassing untold gold.
It was said he had hollowed out the mountain beside his palace and buried one hundred million gold coins within.
Many adventurers had tried to steal from it—none had returned.
In legend, the Dragon slept each night in a sea of gold, forever dreaming.
But in truth, Kai Xiusu hadn’t rested in a year.
He had been consumed by research—studying spells, refining his strength.
Inside the Royal Palace’s main hall, a colossal red dragon lay sprawled across the ground.
His claw sparked with fire and lightning, the two energies dancing, colliding—then fading into nothing.
"Indeed… so it is."
Kai Xiusu sighed, smoke curling from his nostrils like sulfur.
"Elemental Masters cannot harmonize two elemental energies simultaneously. It’s impossible."
"Should I journey to the Lightning Quasi-Elemental Plane?"
He stretched, his massive body shifting. His long tail brushed against the wall.
"Feels cramped. Better to expand the palace soon."
To Kai Xiusu, the main hall was now too small, too confining.
At forty meters long, he was no longer a common Red Dragon.
By Character Sheet standards, he was a supreme giant—a true Supreme-Class Dragon.
Even ancient Primordial Dragons, some over a thousand years old, rarely reached such size.
But the worst part?
This was only the beginning.
The Red Dragon was still growing at a juvenile dragon’s pace.
No one knew how far he would go.
Ancestral Dragon?
Even Tiamat, Bahamut, and Sadivu watched from afar—yet their divine eyes could not pierce the veil of the Empire’s domain.
Here, even gods were blind.
Suddenly—
A familiar scent of rain brushed against his senses.
With the authority of his Empire Domain, he looked out.
Outside the palace, a familiar figure appeared—once a temporary guest.
"Olivia?"
"A rare visitor indeed."
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