Looking at people through the lens of familial affection, they always seem extra wonderful.
For example, Roland in Lisa's eyes is simply the best.
Take off the familial lens, and problems are everywhere.
For example, Empress Sylph, already succeeded but yet to formally ascend, in Wald's eyes.
When Sylph was humming a light tune upon returning to Sheffield Palace, a maid rushed over and whispered, "The Minister of Internal Affairs is waiting for you in the study."
"When did the teacher arrive?" Sylph feigned composure, but her wandering gaze betrayed her inner anxiety.
"Mr. Wald has been waiting for at least four hours, there should be something urgent."
"Ah?" Sylph's last bit of composure froze.
She understood the teacher well.
If there were just an urgent matter, he would have sent someone to find her.
Unless he was coming for her directly.
The teacher's anger would burn fiercer with prolonged waiting.
Sylph could well imagine how fierce the storm to follow would be.
Ordinarily, she should return to the bedchamber to change and bathe before seeing the teacher, but thinking of how Wald had already waited four hours, left her no mood for this, she hurriedly headed towards the study.
Her speed perfectly balanced on the verge of losing the composure and demeanor of a noble.
Though anxious inside, she remained the elegant Empress.
When she stepped into the small study, Wald's face was calm, sitting upright and proper.
Seeing Sylph return, he rose to greet her with the most standard etiquette befit a subject before their liege.
Sylph's heart sank, growing cold halfway.
Something's wrong.
If the teacher couldn't help but talk upon seeing her, it wasn't serious.
If the teacher was all business-like, now that's serious.
Thinking of how she had been out wandering these past few days, Sylph knew she was at fault, quickly responding with a student's courtesy.
"Teacher, you have waited long. If something arose, send word and I would've come back sooner."
"In Sussex, we don't have the custom of subordinates summoning the lord."
Wald spoke sternly, "If word got out, Your Majesty's dignity would be ruined. Outsiders might even think the dominator of Sheffield Palace has been replaced."
Sylph fell silent for a moment, sighed lightly, and said softly, "I was never the master of Sheffield Palace, nor have I been educated in this regard."
"That's my negligence; today I must teach you this lesson."
Wald's gaze suddenly turned sharp.
"Sylph, class is in session!"
Sylph was startled by Wald's abrupt change but quickly realized.
The teacher indeed waited for her with a purpose.
If it's not a reprimand, no matter how demanding the class, it's a good lesson.
She grasped the hem of her skirt, knees slightly bent, replied softly, "Please, teacher, commence the lesson."
Wald gestured for Sylph to sit and calmly asked, "Sylph, do you wish to be a titular puppet, or an emperor who controls destiny?"
"Even if I want, can I truly achieve it?" Sylph asked abruptly.
Sovereignty is never divine-granted, it must be sought.
The nobility and the secondary forces of Sussex grow increasingly large, the space for sovereignty had long been eroded beyond recognition.
But for this, Father wouldn't have gone personally overseas to seek allegiance from foreign lords.
Father's death is suspicious, but cannot be thoroughly probed; whoever investigates becomes the next.
Seeing Sylph on the verge of despair, Wald's expression was calm, yet his voice pierced Sylph's heart like a blade.
"Will others spare you? You are a Transcendent, originally just Tier Nine "Lady," no one cared, but now you are the Emperor, you qualify and have the ability to ascend to Tier Eight "Princess" or even Tier Seven "Empress," do you know what this means?"
Sylph's pink face was bloodless.
She clearly knew what it meant.
Though few knew, she was very aware that the structure of the Transcendent society is similar to ordinary people, all pyramid-shaped.
The higher you climb, the harder it gets.
Tiers Nine to Seven are lower Transcendents, fundamentally no different from ordinary people, merely possessed of special Abilities, still subject to aging, illness, and death, a Tier Seventh strength could live up to three hundred years.
A well-trained mundane assassin can entirely send off a Tier Seven Transcendent under specific conditions.
The power of Transcendents comes from stars; different ascension paths correspond to different paths amongst stars.
Under the stars, lower Transcendents are equivalent to mundane, can have similar or even identical star paths, but from Tier Six onwards, it changes.
The path towards the pinnacle of the pyramid narrows.
Tier Six Transcendents can comprehend the Power of Stars, fundamentally different from mundane.
They shun mundane struggles, stepping onto the path in pursuit of stars.
The Power of Stars doesn't emerge or vanish from nothing, conflicts never cease.
The amount of Power of Stars a Material Plane can hold is capped, some have, so others lack.
Ascension rules thus dictate that Transcendents of the same star path are born enemies.
While those accompanying each other are merely rivals, the explorers of the same star path are irreconcilable foes.
Regrettably, this world already has a Tier Seven, striving for Tier Six female monarch.
Empress Sofia Friedrich Vladimir from the Land of the Frost Vladimir Empire.
She reigns over a vast empire, commands an elite army of millions, her white chamomile flag signifying authority flies across fifteen time zones.
Her command includes a fearsome underground intelligence agency, Rurik Shadow, before its pervasive Nightwalkers, Sussex Military Intelligence Bureau is mere bumblers.
Where her gaze reaches, is where the empire's sword points.
She has no rivals.
The monarchs of several mundane great nations are not Transcendents, the Transcendent monarchs of small nations also pose no threat to her position.
She once boasted, given two hundred and fifty years, she could make the whole world learn standard Rurik Language.
She wasn't boasting, but she doesn't have two hundred and fifty years.
Can humans live over three hundred years?
Yes, by ascending to Tier Six.
Thus she has no time to waste, always devoting her principal efforts towards pursuing stars, allowing other great nations room to breathe.
Yet all this changed after Sylph became Queen of Sussex.
She has a rival now.
Or rather, her stepping stone to Tier Six had arrived.
Sylph's tears and blood will become the most dazzling adornment on the scepter raised high during her ascension.
This is destiny.
Unless Sylph has the power to counterstrike, using Sofia's blood to dye the scepter red.
Sylph's originally fair face could find not a hint of color.
Wald's piercing gaze carried hints of murderous intent, the voice cutting, cried out:
"Sylph, stand up, face your destiny!"
Sylph's spirit jolted, her previously trembling slender hand quivered even more fiercely.
But this time it's not cowardice, but excitement.
The Monarchs of Sussex have historically expanded territories, defeating countless seemingly invincible opponents, thereby establishing the world's top Navy and expansive lands spanning millions of square kilometers.
Sofia is an Empress, and so am I!
Why should it be her treading on my blood to ascend, and not the reverse?
Destiny, ultimately must be faced.
The first to flash before Sylph's eyes was not the founding monarch Emperor Sussex, nor the most famed monarch, King of the Ocean but rather the unlucky yet fortunate Roland.
This guy had no idea what kind of opponents he was about to face.
But Sylph found it hard to sympathize with Roland, for she was the equally unfortunate Sylph facing equally invincible and formidable opponents.
At this moment, the spirit of thirty-four generations of past Sussex Sovereigns possessed her.
Sylph ignited.
The illustrious achievements of these regal ancestors in expanding territories and slaying arch-enemies flashed rapidly through her mind like a cinematic sequence.
Finally, freeze-framed before her eyes.
Her eyes gleamed with scarlet.
Wald looked at her with anticipation.
At this moment, the noble blood coursing within Sylph awakened, even if facing a legendary Giant Dragon capable of shattering the heavens and earth standing before her, she wouldn't retreat.
Courage filled Sylph's tender body, her eyes shot a frightening cold gleam.
A flash and gone.
Sylph's lips trembled, the shaking voice had a hint of sob.
"Teacher, I want to abdicate, I will return to my Tyrone Earl's Domain. Please inform the cabinet to select a new Emperor for me. I have two distant cousins who are family branches, they both can."
"Teacher, what's wrong, teacher?"