Chapter Forty-Two: The Ball

A month after the fall of the Moris Empire, a grand ball was held in the castle of the Norman family of the English Empire. Nearly all distinguished figures of the English Empire arrived to honor the Norman family, for tonight’s ball carried special significance—it was, after all, a celebration of Lord Sun Li’s triumphant return after completing his mission. Of course, few knew the details; most guests assumed this event marked Sun Li’s official alliance with the Norman family, or perhaps even an engagement ceremony.

That night, the stars glittered above, and the air buzzed with voices. The Norman family castle gleamed with radiant decorations, everywhere filled with English nobles, merchants, and officials in their finest attire.

These prominent guests seized the rare opportunity to mingle and negotiate with valuable individuals, for even if no concrete results emerged, at least they could become acquainted with new faces.

Among the human powers, such balls were the simplest and most convenient means for the upper echelons to exchange information and foster cooperation.

The gentlemen were all handsome and dignified, the ladies all enchanting and graceful. As the lights brightened, the guests led their partners to the center of the dance floor. Elegant music filled the hall. Everyone was lost in joy as the lights turned to a soft golden hue, and a bevy of ornamented women, glittering with jewels, were swept into the arms of the impeccably dressed gentlemen. Songs and dances mingled with the fragrance of perfume, creating an atmosphere of delight.

“Lord Sun Li, won’t you dance? This celebration is held in your honor, after all,” the Grand Duchess Victoria said with a gentle smile, her gaze tinged with an unusual expectation.

Sun Li surveyed the riotous scene, feeling out of place. Before coming to this world, he had been a true homebody, his only experience with dancing confined to television. Since arriving in this realm, his days had been consumed by production, construction, amassing wealth, and, more often than not, fighting and killing.

Even after reaching the English Empire, he avoided such social occasions whenever possible. If not for Victoria’s kind intentions—and his own desire to leave her with a clear conscience so she would let him return happily to Song—he would never have appeared at such a gathering.

“I… I’m just a rough man who only knows how to fight. I’d better sit this one out,” Sun Li said with a wry smile, not noticing the disappointment in Victoria’s eyes. It wasn’t that Victoria lacked beauty or gentleness; indeed, by any measure, she possessed an irresistible allure for men—her family, status, wealth, appearance, figure, and temperament were all beyond reproach. At least, Sun Li had found no fault in her.

Yet, a decisive battle over the destiny of nations between Song and the English Empire was inevitable. Sun Li could only keep his distance from Victoria—perhaps when the English Empire was destroyed, things would be different? Even then, should he spare her, she would likely wish him dead with every fiber of her being.

Victoria understood that Sun Li had no love for such occasions. Perhaps he truly belonged only on the battlefield.

She had always been curious about Sun Li’s true identity. Since his appearance, wave after wave of English spies had been dispatched to Song, only to be killed.

It wasn’t that their spies were inept, but rather that the citizens of Song were fiercely patriotic. Patriotism—that was the English Empire’s only explanation for its many failed espionage missions.

How many spies had been reported and pursued simply for attempting to bribe an ordinary first-class citizen of Song? The class system there was so strict that even second-class white citizens knew nothing of the elite, nor even the true capital’s location! Song did not allow anyone below second class to enter the capital.

When bribery failed, they tried sending spies who looked like Solomons to climb the ranks slowly, but soon enough, both the spies and their money vanished without a trace. The Jinyiwei, those fearsome secret police, seemed to have an uncanny ability to distinguish who was a true first-class citizen.

For the Jinyiwei, identifying commoners was apparently not so difficult. So the English Empire could only swallow its losses in silence.

The intelligence service could only piece together what little information the Jinyiwei purposely let slip… that Sun Li hailed from a noble family in Song, and was a young master of some standing.

Victoria, however, did not believe such nonsense. How could an ordinary noble scion possess such martial prowess? Did they think all the nobles of Europa were useless?

She suspected that Sun Li was at least a general or someone of similarly high rank. Of course, she could never have imagined that Sun Li was the Emperor of Song himself. In fact, the thought never crossed her mind. Her habitual thinking simply could not conceive of an emperor so bold—or so reckless—as to come adventuring in Europa in person.

Believing she more or less understood Sun Li’s background, Victoria felt that she and Sun Li were actually quite well matched: family, age, skills, and vision—all quite suitable. As for his looks, Victoria was not particular, so she simply ignored that matter.

“This expedition has certainly been fruitful for you, Lord Sun Li. Not only have all four chief paladins of the Holy Kingdom perished, even Emperor Moris himself died unexpectedly. Truly, you are clever!” Victoria’s original intention had not been to see the human bulwark Emperor Moris come to harm, for the release of the Elven Empire, enemy of mankind, would benefit no one—only the fanatical Grandmaster of the Holy Knights would abandon everything for the sake of faith.

Though Sun Li denied it, Victoria, with her far-reaching influence in Europa, was certain that Emperor Moris had died at Sun Li’s hand. This both puzzled and alarmed her. Could Song be plotting something while Europa was engulfed in chaos? After all, all the colonial territories bordering Song belonged to the English Empire.

While it was difficult to uncover the identities of a few individuals in Song, the strength of its army was easier to ascertain. With so many soldiers, how could they remain hidden? A year ago, Song had fought a series of brutal wars with the orcs; Victoria did not believe that such intense conflict would not require a nationwide mobilization.

At most, she calculated, Song could maintain a standing army of about twenty thousand. With its small population and rigid class system excluding most whites from military service, only the visible tens of thousands of commoners, plus the mysterious capital (which English spies had approached but could not enter), were available for recruitment. The imperial capital was far too small to accommodate a population of a million. Given the usual ratio of soldiers to civilians, a nation with less than a million people could only field so many troops—at a 20:1 ratio, any more would exhaust the country’s resources, leaving no one to farm or produce.

Unlike the orcs, who were primitive and could muster every able body for war, humans needed at least ten civilians to support each soldier. Accounting for the needs of all other professions, mobilizing one soldier for every twenty people was already a heavy burden on a nation.

Victoria was deeply curious about Song’s true intentions.