I will be crowned king

In the evening, the Royal Court of Yser.

This is the capital of the Iser Elf Kingdom and the birthplace of the entire Iser Elf; the Iser Elfs who bid farewell to their Eastern compatriots thousands of years ago came to settle in this magnificent river valley and thrived in the next thousand years. , expansion, invasion, colonization... gradually expanded the territory to its current size.

Yisel...means "courtyard" in the difficult-to-pronounce ancient Elvish language.

Moses Field, the first to come to this land, and the twelve families built their own manors and courtyards according to the scenery of their hometown. These courtyards became "shelters" for those who came after them, helping the elves to establish a foothold in their new homeland. , and use this awkward word to distinguish between myself and my relatives in my hometown.

The passage of thousands of years has engraved the traces of time on every visible or invisible corner of her; it has always witnessed the rise and fall of the entire ethnic group just like the courtyard of every Yser Elf.

The dome was filled with gloomy mist, and the cold rain was pouring all over the sky; the whole city was deserted, not like the Yser Valley at the end of midsummer, but more like the city of Clovis, shrouded in water vapor and thick fog all day long, without any sunlight.

A faint mist of water vapor enveloped the deserted streets and squares, and all the houses and shops had their doors locked, like a dead city.

In the cold-toned rain curtain, golden and red gunfire flashed continuously; countless figures wearing similar uniforms shuttled between streets and buildings, killing each other in one street after another, around military camps and warehouses.

Thunderous volleys echoed with shrill screams, and the loud shouts of death were mixed with the most hysterical curses. There were also piercing bugles, heavy iron boots, the sounds of metal and flesh colliding... countless The voices kept intertwining, the water on the ground was filled with blood, and a blazing fire rose in the rain curtain, igniting most of the royal court.

The old Iser elf sat in front of the stained glass window, looking expressionlessly at the city that was wailing in the fire outside.

The stained glass window is made up of hundreds of stained glass, forming a beautiful pattern on the window frame - a man in white walking in the dark night, holding a torch in one hand and holding a scripture in the other.

Above his head, three strangely shaped moons dimmed one by one; below his feet, the sun on the distant horizon was about to rise.

The expression of the man in white in the painting is extremely determined, walking firmly towards the horizon where the sun rises in the distance; while the three moons show three completely different expressions: fear, anger and hatred.

If you look carefully, you can still see a pattern of a ring of order on the cover of the scripture; and the structure of the positions of the three moons happens to be an incomplete "original ring".

This is one of the most famous religious stories of the Church of Order, the Sermon of the Saint.

It symbolizes the era when the "Three Old Gods" representing the original ring are gradually declining, and the Ring of Order emerges to bring new life to those shrouded in darkness.

The extremely sacred religious story seems extremely ironic against the burning rain curtain outside the window at this moment.

Especially when the owner of this city is an Iser elf who firmly believes in the Ring of Order... the corners of the old elf's mouth slightly curled up in a mocking arc.

"You seem very relaxed and elegant."

The soft voice opened the door behind the old elf.

The elf girl in costume walked into the room, her eyes staring at his back, her slightly surprised face mixed with some complicated emotions.

"Yes." The old elf said without turning his head. His eyes focused on the reflection of the elf girl on the glass, and the sarcasm on his lips became more obvious:

"After all, apart from sitting here and watching, I seem to be powerless to do anything else."

Stopping, the elf girl frowned slightly:

"Are you lecturing me?"

"No, I am praising you." The old elf laughed:

"The speed of your actions greatly exceeded my expectations. To be honest, I actually noticed that the Thirteen Council would betray me very early on, but the choice of this time really surprised me!"

"Especially the ability to flexibly use the Kingdom of Clovis, a powerful enemy, to force the empire to have a dispute with the church externally, and internally to use the Clovis Southern Legion to eliminate the Praetorian Guards, as well as all the nobles and troops who were still loyal to the throne and were watching. ——What an extremely beautiful operation!”

"Of course, there is also now - deceiving the city gates, controlling the army, purging political opponents... The Thirteen Council, they have done much more in one day today than they have done in the past twenty years!"

"You are unprecedented in making them so efficient!"

The old elf smiled more and more happily, and his joyful and lonely laughter echoed in the dead and empty room.

The elf girl's expression did not change at all, and she watched silently as he laughed until he was interrupted by a choking cough.

"...You are still teaching me a lesson."

"No! I said, I didn't!" The old elf suddenly became serious.

He slowly stood up from the chair, struggling to support his body with both hands and stood upright in front of the window.

The next second, the elf staggered and looked back, his serious eyes softening again the moment he saw the elf girl:

"My dear Freya, what father... can have the heart to teach his most beloved little daughter a lesson?"

The moment the words fell, Freya's pupils trembled, and the intense scarlet color showed signs of fading away.

But it was only for a moment that her expression was once again dominated by indifference and hatred.

"No...even if I want to take away your most important thing?"

"The most important thing?"

The old elf, Igor Mossfield, fell into deep thought, and then suddenly realized: "Ah - is this what you are talking about?"

As he spoke, he took out a crown from his arms.

It is composed of pure gold vines and thirteen leaves. Under each four "leaves" is a gemstone in three colors: red, white and black. It is vividly called the "golden crown".

As a treasure that symbolizes the kingship of the elves of Yser, it is said to have been passed down for thousands of years. It has been in the hands of the Moses Field family and has been passed down from generation to generation among the elven kings of Yser.

"Clang!"

Igor threw it on the ground.

"My dear Freya, why do you think it is the most important thing to me?" He looked at the surprised elf girl and smiled bitterly:

"Or to put it another way, why do you think that because you want to take it away, I will become so angry that I want to teach my most adorable little daughter a lesson?"

"This is because……"

"You don't think that what you are doing now is the first time in the history of the Yser elves, right?"

Without waiting for the girl to defend, Igor continued: "As your father, I can tell you 100% frankly - it is not."

"This can't even be called 'rare', or it should be more appropriately described as 'routine'; I can tell you another secret, that is, I have not only seen what you are doing now, but I have even done it myself."

Freya's eyes widened.

"So you don't have to worry at all, I will be angry because you do this - on the contrary, I will praise you." Igor's eyes were full of doting:

"You are my youngest child, and I never expected you to have any talent for ruling; now it seems that I made a wrong decision."

"The whole process was perfect, at least more perfect than what I did back then - I successfully exploited the Thirteen Council's dissatisfaction with the Church of Order and made them serve you loyally; I sacrificed the Guards Corps, but forced the Empire to I have to take a stand to ensure that the Kingdom of Clovis does not dare to act rashly.”

"Without Clovis' intervention and Thun's betrayal, this would have been the most perfect coup."

"Of course, this does not mean that you do not have any omissions; in fact, you seriously overestimated the power of the Thirteen Council; if their strength was really as powerful as they said, we would not be in the Saints' Calendar. After forty-seven years of enduring humiliation, we have no choice but to accept the 'faith' imposed on us by the Church of Order."

"This is not even the first time they have done this... When I was the same age as you, they also gave me a similar promise; if they support the restoration of the Thirteen Council, they will support me to become the new Elf King of Yser. "

"That year, I followed your grandfather's arrangement and returned from studying in the Empire's Snapdragon City; there I saw everything the Church of Order said: the steam core that can run the steel behemoth, the difference engine that knows everything, and only one The sixty-eight-pound Caron gun can destroy the city gate..."

"They helped me see the truth clearly, that is, the generation of spellcasters and descendants of the True God has been completely ended; even if it rises again, it will only be a final death struggle."

"So when the Thirteen Council sent out an invitation, I refused; and used the heads of several of them to gain your grandfather's trust."

"This 'trust' is very important, because it relied on it for me to take that 'most important thing' from your grandfather's hands as my own."

Igor sighed and looked at Freya with sad eyes:

"And now, they've found you again..."

"Have you finished speaking?" The elf girl showed a hint of impatience.

"The last sentence."

Igor smiled, his expression as calm as ever before: "In this genius coup plan of yours, how many of the 'adults' from the Thirteen Council came to the royal court with you?"

"No." Freya said coldly.

Um?

Igor was a little surprised: "Not one?"

"Not one." Freya snorted softly:

"Those old guys... are either cowards or a group of extremely incompetent wastes - it was because of them that Ludwig Franz successfully escaped from the last ambush of the Southern Army!"

"When we were discussing plans, each one was more active than the other. But when it came time to take action, they were procrastinating and cautious, as if they could even sprain their ankles while walking."

"Well... there are a few guys who are quite active and enthusiastic, but they can't even do the most basic tasks well. It's impossible to trust them with important things." Freya said in a deep voice:

"So I'm taking away their army and the most elite group of pure-blooded Iser elves; anyway, even if it's just me, I can still get things done!"

"Now it seems that I was right."

"Ah...that's it." Igor suddenly realized.

He understood it all.

Looking at the extremely indifferent little daughter in front of him, the heartbroken Igor wanted to say something, but he knew that it was meaningless to say anything now.

As a usurped king, there was nothing he could do now.

Freya knelt down expressionlessly, picked up the "Golden Crown" that Igor had thrown on the ground, and casually looked at this treasure that she had not even been qualified to touch in the past.

"It's yours now." Igor put his hands behind his back, with a doting smile on his face again:

"Wearing it, you will no longer be an ordinary Iser Elf girl, but the queen of all Iser Elfs."

"Queen……"

The elf girl murmured to herself, savoring this extremely unfamiliar title.

"Yes, Queen... Freya I." The old Elf King nodded slightly:

"As the leader of all the Ysel elves, lead the Moses Field family, lead all the Ysel elves and our country, and use all means to defeat all enemies who try to humiliate her and defend her inviolable dignity."

"From now on, this is your unshirkable responsibility... Your Majesty."

Before he finished speaking, Igor, who had his hands behind his back, suddenly bent his knees and knelt in front of Freya.

The elf girl, whose eyes were in trance, froze on the spot, looking at eye level with the elf king who was kneeling on one knee.

"I……"

Freya's eyes trembled a little.

The original purpose of her coming here was not only to take away the crown that symbolized supreme authority from her father who had already passed away, but also to obtain the so-called "winner's margin".

Before stepping into the door, she had imagined many scenarios; she had imagined how her father would view her "usurping power" - whether he would curse in anger, kneel down in tears and beg for mercy, or suppress his anger and say nothing to herself. Hair, or...

I never expected that it would be such a result.

Looking into those doting eyes, the elf girl bit her lower lip and turned to leave.

"Flea!"

Just when she was about to go out, the voice of the old Elf King stopped her in her tracks.

"I don't care what you want to do next, or what those incompetent bastards from the Thirteenth Council want you to do." Igor's voice suddenly became serious:

"But I want you to promise me one thing - no matter what, you must survive!"

"No matter what happens, you must survive by any means necessary; as long as you are alive, I will do everything I can to protect you!"

"Do you understand, Freya? Can you agree to this little request of mine? Freya, answer me; Freya? Freya! Freya..."

Turning her back to the elf king's call, the silent elf girl disappeared without a trace in the dark corridor.