Chapter Forty: I Want to Fulfill Everything You Told Me

This Princess Irene truly lives up to her notorious reputation—she speaks with utter disregard for propriety, saying whatever comes to mind. Qin Le was left speechless; Queen? If anything, as a man, he ought to be a king, shouldn’t he?

“Not interested,” Qin Le replied with a look of utter indifference.

Clearly, he had no interest whatsoever in this rebellious princess who struck terror into the hearts of the nobility. Witnessing this, the assembled nobles all breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Had this newly emerged Grand Duke of the Eastern Domain married Irene, her chances of ascending the throne would have soared. From the king’s respectful demeanor toward the Grand Duke, it was obvious that this man was far from ordinary—perhaps even one of the legendary High Humans, or at the very least, closely connected to them.

The last thing the nobles wanted was to see this madwoman become queen. No one could predict what insanity she might unleash. And should she, as queen, receive the Dawnblade’s recognition, who could fathom the terrifying power she might wield?

In the past, this rebellious princess had crushed domestic rebellions without the Dawnblade. Now, with the blade’s support, no one dared imagine surviving the declaration she might make.

No matter the cost, she could not be allowed to become queen.

Irene, however, was hardly surprised by his rejection. Instead, a seductive smile played about her lips as she said, “To so bluntly reject a lady’s proposal in front of everyone—how very unkind. Your coldness wounds me deeply.”

“My apologies, but I’m not interested,” Qin Le refused her once more, unyielding.

Back in his own world, had a domineering beauty like this confessed her feelings, Qin Le would have groveled at her feet without hesitation, begging for her patronage. With a wealthy woman like her, a single nod would have meant instant success.

But things were different now. He was here on behalf of Xuanlu, and both Irene and Olina represented the old order. He could maintain cordial relations, but anything deeper was out of the question. That was his principle.

“Boring man,” Irene muttered as she stepped down from the dais.

This time, the nobles looked as if they’d swallowed a rat, while the royal knights around them were visibly elated. An invisible line seemed to divide the seats: on one side, the nobles and lords who had ruled for millennia; on the other, the royal knights.

Though the second princess had been gone for years, her influence lingered. Her victories in battle remained vivid in every knight’s memory, which was precisely why the king had sought to send her away.

By now, nearly all the royal candidates had made their choices—either to continue in the succession and make their proclamations or to withdraw altogether.

Only one remained: Olina of the Dawn.

All eyes turned to her. Though most nobles scorned the ninth princess’s lowly birth, believing she had no right to compete for the crown, that did not mean they trusted her.

For some reason, this commoner princess had suddenly gained the support of a mysterious group—a gathering of enigmatic, black-haired humans.

Most unsettling of all was the sudden appearance of the Grand Duke of the Eastern Domain, who put everyone on high alert.

Olina stepped forward, ascending the dais under the gaze of all. Grasping the Dawnblade, she fell into a profound silence.

One second. Two seconds. Three... A minute passed, and curiosity turned to confusion. What was this common-born princess doing? Was she preparing some earth-shattering declaration?

Abruptly, Olina raised her head, drawing every eye; the air grew tense.

Was it about to happen?

“Aimaya, um, pass me the note—I forgot my lines,” Olina called down to her friend.

Aimaya, covering her face in exasperation, muttered, “What an idiot.”

Those nearby were stunned, and even Qin Le, seated above, couldn’t help but smile.

Qin Le chuckled, “Olina, just speak from your heart.”

“From my heart?” Olina tilted her head up at Qin Le. “Are you sure? I can be quite willful.”

“Young people are supposed to be willful,” Qin Le replied, amusement lighting his eyes. He was eager to see what this naive, kind-hearted princess would say.

“You said it,” Olina replied, gripping the Dawnblade anew. Instantly, a solemn and sacred will emanated from the blade.

[As king, what nation do you swear to build?]

A thought rose instinctively within Olina: If I were king, what kind of country should I create? What kind of country do I wish to create?

She gazed at the Dawnblade, softly glowing gold, then at the dazzling nobles all around, her heart troubled by a question that had haunted her for years.

Why were they born so high above? Why could they oppress others at will? Why was she born lowly while they were born noble?

Why did her mother yearn so desperately for a noble title?

Because nobles possessed power, could decide the fate of others, could enjoy delicious food, wear beautiful clothes, live in houses that kept out the wind and rain... Because noble status meant enjoying every good thing the world could offer.

This was the answer Olina had discovered after becoming a princess and experiencing a paradise-like life—an answer she wished she could deny. Cold reality lay before her, revealing the world’s cruelty without mercy.

No matter how hard she tried, hunger still plagued the world; commoners still struggled in misery. Nothing changed, except that she was no longer the dirty girl from the slums.

She could save nothing—but he could.

Olina lifted her eyes toward the black-haired man seated above.

Qin Le returned her gaze with an encouraging smile.

He had accomplished everything she could not—fulfilled the dreams she had failed to realize.

I want to build the nation you told me about.

A land without hunger, without nobility, where all are equal and no one stands above another. A country where, wherever flowers bloom, children’s laughter rings out.

The Dawnblade began to glow a deep crimson—less intense than Irene’s, yet dazzling in its own right.

“What—?”

Everyone was dumbfounded. Why was the Dawnblade glowing before any declaration had even been made?

Olina swept her gaze over the assembled nobles and knights, her face cold and murderous, her blue eyes flickering red.

“I hate the nobility.”

The nobles instantly felt a crushing wave of murderous intent, as though the entire world had turned red.

“I hate the knights.”

The royal knights tensed, some unconsciously reaching for their sword hilts.

“I hate the king.”

Nobles, knights, even the king himself, felt a foreboding chill.

“I hate all of this—this sickening, repulsive world!”

Bang!

From the Dawnblade, waves of crimson energy rippled outward.

A wild smile curled at Olina’s lips, red aura swirling around her like madness, murderous intent at its peak.

“I, Olina, swear before the Dawnblade! I will kill every noble, overthrow this kingdom, raze everything to the ground and start anew. I will create the nation Qin Le spoke of—a land where all are equal, where there is no hunger, where everyone can laugh freely.”

“I will make those who laughed at me realize their own shortsightedness. I will turn everything you deem laughable, everything you believe impossible, into reality!”

Olina’s right hand tightened; slowly, the Dawnblade rose from the pedestal. In a thousand years, through countless royal successions, no candidate had ever managed to draw the blade.

Yet now, one had.

Boom!

A column of crimson light shot skyward, piercing the clouds above the capital, bathing the city in its glow.

Olina stood, Dawnblade in hand, red aura swirling ever higher, her presence growing ever more transcendent and mighty.

In that moment, she was like a goddess of wrath.

She looked toward the end of the stairs, her smile radiant, her voice pure and clear as she said, “Qin Le, you once said you were no good man, and that I was a true villain. All that I dream of, I owe to the Republic. Now, I give you my answer to that question from before: no, it was not all because of you.”

“I wish to realize all that you taught me. That is my declaration.”