Chapter Seventy-Five: Enemies Become Friends

Domineering—that was the impression everyone had of Irene. She seemed like a blunt, tactless brute, devoid of any of the grace or wisdom befitting nobility. Yet at seventeen, Irene proved herself with her strength and revealed astonishing leadership. She led the kingdom’s Order of Knights in crushing the rebellious southern lords of that year, and even expanded the realm’s borders by hundreds of thousands of kilometers.

What others feared most about Irene was her terrifying command and charismatic presence; under her lead, the knights could unleash power far beyond their natural limits.

“You!” The granddaughter of Grand Duke Carter glared at her, fuming with anger, yet involuntarily took several steps back. In the end, she turned away with a look of aggrieved humiliation, and the other noble ladies, cowed by Irene’s threatening gaze, could only slink away in defeat.

At last, peace settled over the area, though everyone’s gaze remained fixed upon them.

From the second floor, the King of Dawn nearly applauded, casting a look of thinly veiled contempt at the other lords.

The great lords seemed somewhat disappointed—this was not something they themselves could intervene in.

“What’s this, Your Grace? Are you refusing me?” Irene raised her right hand, cocking her head, her bright eyes hinting that refusal was not an option.

“This is the third time a lady has asked you. If you turn me down again, I might just cry.”

Qin Le’s face was tinged with resignation, inwardly speechless: Calling me an old relic with every word, what right do you have to vie with me for a man, claiming to be a lady?

“It would be my honor to dance with Your Highness.” Qin Le reached out and lightly clasped Irene’s hand.

Slender and cool to the touch, he noticed the faint trace of calluses on her palm, adding a curious comfort to the sensation.

Irene smiled slightly, then led Qin Le to the center of the dance floor. Beneath the bright crystal chandeliers, her exquisite features seemed less fierce and more gentle, touched by feminine softness.

“Grand Duke, do you know our dances?”

Qin Le shook his head honestly. “I don’t.”

“Then let me teach you. Though I only know one.” Irene lifted her left hand to take Qin Le’s other hand, gently placing it at her slender waist before stepping closer.

A subtle, enchanting fragrance drifted toward Qin Le, causing his heart to race instinctively. The touch of her hand, the vision of her unrivaled beauty, and that faint scent—all stirred something primal within him.

“Follow my lead. One, two, three…”

Guided by Irene, Qin Le quickly found the rhythm. Truth be told, the steps were not difficult—just a few basic patterns, mostly for socializing.

The two of them danced gracefully at the heart of the floor, becoming its undeniable center.

They performed the simplest of ballroom dances, lacking in spectacle or complexity, yet drawing the unwavering gaze of everyone present. Strip away the glittering facade of the ball, and it was, at its core, a gathering for forging alliances and reaching consensus.

The royal election had concluded, and the king remained unscathed. The king would not pursue the great nobles for their recent machinations, and the lords, in turn, obediently returned to their places.

With a practiced smile, Qin Le played along with Irene, his inner turmoil gradually fading as the minutes passed. Bodily impulses could not be entirely banished, but given time, he could repress them.

A trace of surprise flickered in Irene’s eyes at how swiftly the Grand Duke’s heartbeat returned to normal; then a mischievous smile curled her lips. As the music suddenly swelled, she stepped forward, pressing herself against Qin Le and whispering in a cool, husky voice:

“Grand Duke, this is my first time dancing with a man. You are my first.”

Qin Le narrowed his eyes, his heart racing and his breath catching for a few seconds—but he quickly regained his composure and reminded her, “Princess Irene, the dance is ending.”

Irene had clearly sought him out for ulterior motives; it was certainly not out of affection. Qin Le was self-aware—he was no peerless beauty, merely presentable. That alone would not make a princess of such caliber fall in love at first sight.

They had only just met, with no real connection—where would feelings come from?

Irene understood his meaning and dropped the pretense, speaking plainly: “Grand Duke, the royal election is over for now, and it looks like the old fox won’t be dying anytime soon. We’re no longer rivals. I’d like to work with you.”

“Speak,” Qin Le replied, direct and succinct.

“I want you to give me a possibility—a country where all true power belongs to the sovereign. In exchange, I’ll provide the extraordinary knowledge you need. I imagine your people are in dire need of it.” Irene’s smile was subtle.

“I could acquire extraordinary knowledge through other means, couldn’t I?” Qin Le returned her smile.

What Irene sought was a centralized monarchy, an advanced form of governance for this era. But for now, it seemed to be only her personal ideal, lacking practical experience—how to transfer local authority to the center, how to replace the nobility with a bureaucratic system, how to select officials…

Without outside help, Irene would have to grope her way forward, step by step—a perilous path, beset by noble backlash and the risks of trial and error.

Progress in governance was not as simple as destroying the old system; without a suitable replacement, it was not progress, but mere ruin.

“And how are you so sure I possess what you seek?”

Irene gazed intently into Qin Le’s eyes, her features resolute. “Call it intuition. And I’m not talking about ordinary extraordinary knowledge, but high-level extraordinary knowledge—a true path to power.”

As the music surged again, Irene stepped forward, pressing against Qin Le. The softness and fragrance were overwhelming.

She whispered in his ear, “I can assure you, you can’t get this through normal channels. The old fox won’t give it to you, nor will the other great nobles. The Hunters’ Guild and the Church certainly won’t, either. High-level extraordinary knowledge is never traded—everyone hoards it, even the Hunters’ Guild.”

Qin Le fell silent for a few seconds. “If it’s so difficult, how can you guarantee you can actually provide a sufficient amount of high-level extraordinary knowledge?”

Irene was right. In recent times, Xuanlü had been trying to gather extraordinary knowledge, expecting it to go smoothly, yet meeting obstacles at every turn. Almost no one was willing to strike an open deal; at best, they would sell minor, inferior scraps.

As Aimeya put it: “Utter trash, not even up to Count Dyna’s standards. Superficially impressive, but all from obscure sources, with very low potential—usually what the Hunters’ Guild gives to talented commoners.”

It was just like Xuanlü’s experience in their old world, where their technology was monopolized globally. If not for the deep foundation of the Old Empire and prodigies like Li Zhiyuan, Xuanlü might have been strangled long ago.

Low-grade extraordinary knowledge was sufficient for Xuanlü’s current needs. Progress must come in stages; haste would ruin all.

Of course, if fortune came knocking, Xuanlü would not refuse it.

“I can’t tell you that,” Irene said, “but I can pay you part of your reward in advance.”

Qin Le pondered for a moment, then nodded. “Very well. I’ll tell you the method, but you’ll have to implement it yourself—I won’t help you.”

One step forward makes you a genius; another and you’re a madman.

A republic would be too far ahead of this age for anyone to believe in, but a centralized monarchy was different—there was already a foundation for it here and it was highly feasible.

Which monarch doesn’t wish to hold all power in their hands? Give them a viable method, and some will act, especially since sovereigns here command supreme force. The chances of success are high.

But the process will come at a steep price. The world will descend into chaos.

This, too, was a stratagem for the future.

“Then the deal is struck,” Irene said, beaming a radiant, heartfelt smile, beautiful as a dream.

Then, Qin Le felt a gentle warmth on his cheek as Irene softly kissed him, her flawless features close enough to touch.

The music came to its end; the dance was over.

Irene stepped back two paces, a roguish grin on her spirited, lovely face. “Grand Duke, that was my first as well.”

Standing at the center of the dance floor, Qin Le looked momentarily stunned, but soon regained his composure, his eyes sweeping the hall.

The royal election was over; the factions cleansed.

Enemies might become friends; friends might already be lurking foes.