Chapter 141 : Let You Live Forever in the Flames
Chapter 141: Let You Live Forever in the Flames.
The appearance of the Elves was only a small interlude—at least, for Mitia it was so.
After all, she had already endured the most difficult period.
After the meeting held in the Paria Royal Capital officially finalized the merger charter, the troops of the Seris Federation began entering and taking over the city defenses and public security of each region.
At the same time, the Federation’s propaganda machinery also began a large-scale campaign in favor of alliance integration, allowing the populace to better understand the current situation.
Meanwhile, every territory that declared independence and then announced its entry into the Seris Federation, proclaiming the Seris Empress as sovereign, was broadcast live across the entire subcontinent.
This was a necessary ceremony.
The Seris Federation also officially changed its name to the Seris National Socialist Union.
What was amusing was that several Free Territories of the Kingdom of Cabansia also seized the momentum of subcontinentalism and declared their entry into the Union.
Cabansia, already overwhelmed by ceaseless domestic uprisings, only dared to protest symbolically a few times, and afterward let the matter drop.
Mitia had long been advancing the plan for the “Spring of Cabansia,” and had already stirred up uprisings in several major border territories.
The border marquises and counts had all been hanged atop their city gates.
After Cabansia’s government failed to suppress the rebellions, those territories had in truth already severed themselves from the kingdom’s control.
Their subsequent incorporation into the Union was merely stepping on Cabansia’s dignity a few more times.
As for making a move—Cabansia certainly did not dare wage war.
Muttering a few complaints under its breath was harmless enough.
Those originally in office were also summoned into Federation territory for retraining, and new officials were dispatched to take over their posts.
From the founding population of five million, to thirty million when Ovinia was annexed, then reaching a peak of forty-five million after encouraging childbirth.
Now, after completing subcontinental alliance-wide integration, the total population surpassed eighty million—forming a subcontinental Alliance body.
And Mitia’s prestige, having nearly unified the entire continent, also reached its peak.
Seris’s pace of expansion had been so rapid that even the Main Continent felt caught completely off guard.
As if one simply slept and upon waking, a giant bear baring its claws was suddenly standing by one’s side.
But speed also had its drawbacks—namely that Seris, which originally had one of the world’s highest levels of infrastructure, suddenly fell back again.
A great number of new regions were waiting for infrastructure development.
Among the eighty million citizens, Commoners who lived off the land made up seventy-five percent of the entire Alliance population.
Land needed to be redistributed, infrastructure—roads and rail networks—needed to be built, local Armed Forces needed re-evaluation, and officials capable of maintaining local administration were in short supply.
The most troublesome matter was that the original territories of the three nations, after years of war, had all fallen into varying degrees of famine.
The benefits had not yet appeared, but all sorts of problems now lined up waiting for Mitia.
This forced her, despite her overwhelming workload, to spare time for a journey to the Elves to meet the Tree King who had personally named her.
At first, Mitia did not give it much thought, but when she truly stood atop the great tree and saw the Tree King, she instinctively voiced a question: “Little grass sp... Tree King?”
‘Hmm?’
The young Tree King looked at her with confusion.
Without thinking much of it, she beckoned for Mitia to follow.
Mitia lifted her foot to walk forward, but Anna beside her held her back and whispered, “Would this not be unsafe?”
Being on someone else’s territory always made her uneasy.
Instinctively, she did not want Mitia to leave the protective circle of the army.
Hearing this, Mitia held Anna’s small hand.
She glanced at the Dragon Girl Aisha who had accompanied them.
Seeing Aisha give a small nod, Mitia gently patted Anna’s hand.
“It’s fine.”
Following the Tree King’s steps, the two reached a wooden altar adorned with greenery.
Only then did the young Tree King turn and say to Mitia, “You... you relax. I will take you to meet my companions...”
As she spoke, she floated to Mitia’s side, held her hand, and whispered, “Some elders don’t like you. Be mentally prepared.”
Before Mitia could reply, she felt a jolt in her spirit.
The surroundings blurred and twisted.
When everything steadied again, she found the altar still there, but at its center now stood a long rectangular wooden table.
Seven or eight women dressed similarly to the young Tree King sat around it.
Among them were elder and younger ones, and there were also little lolis with forms similar to the young Tree King’s.
It looked like several generations of the same family.
An aged voice sounded beside Mitia’s ear: “You are that one—the destroyer of the world.”
Hearing this, Mitia lifted a brow.
“What do you mean? A tribunal? A three-court interrogation?”
A destroyer? Why not just call her the Terminator?
“You people destroy and excavate the various materials of this world in great quantities. And the things you create constantly pollute this land, destroying the environment we depend on to live.”
A middle-aged woman followed up harshly: ‘The trees you cut in a month, and the ore you dig out, surpass the amount from a hundred years before your arrival! Nature cannot possibly recover at such a pace. Is that not the work of a destroyer?’
Mitia’s eyelid twitched.
Even after switching to another world she still could not escape environmental protection groups? And they did not even give her a chair.
“Resources are there. No matter the race, as long as one can use them and knows how to use them, they may be used—for a better life. What is the problem? I do not think there is any.”
“To survive, to develop, using everything around us that can be used—I do not believe that is wrong! If drinking dew alone could sustain us, then wars in this world would immediately decrease by ninety percent. But is that possible?”
As she spoke, a trace of hostility appeared in Mitia’s eyes.
“I did not come here to listen to nonsense. You may live through photosynthesis—we cannot.”
“If you invited me here to discuss limiting the development of the Alliance, then I can give you a clear answer right now as the Empress of the Alliance—impossible!”
The middle-aged Tree King stood up angrily and pointed at Mitia: ‘You!’
Mitia’s expression instantly turned cold.
She barked, “Sit down!”
“If you dare point at me again, I will make you kneel when you speak to me!”
Seeing the woman’s chest heaving with fury, a cold gleam flashed through Mitia’s violet eyes.
“Ugly thing. If you don’t believe me, you can try. I can let you live forever in the flames.”
The young Tree King tugged Mitia’s skirt lightly, her large eyes filled with worry.
A woman who looked to be in her twenties or thirties spoke at the right moment: ‘Enough, Emma! Do not be rude.
Sit down first.’
The middle-aged woman sat down angrily, and Mitia immediately understood who led their group.
It seemed this Treant race placed those in their prime as the leaders.
“Your Majesty the Empress, please forgive their rudeness. They are simply worried. The forest environment is the foundation of our existence. If the environment is utterly destroyed, we would also die.”
Her voice was gentle, as if possessing a special ability to calm others.
Mitia remained noncommittal.
“I respect the survival methods of all races. As I said before—join the Alliance as an Alliance tribe, apply to the Federation for the establishment of a nature reserve, prohibit logging and ecological destruction. That is a workable solution.”
“The other path is the one that Madam over there wishes to take—becoming a rare protected species under the Alliance’s protection.”
The woman showed some confusion.
‘A rare protected species?’
Mitia nodded, lowering her head to stroke the young Tree King’s hair as she smiled:
“Because it’s rare—few exist—so it’s protected. In any case, I prefer raising children. Leaving these little ones would be enough~”
Though Mitia smiled, the utter indifference toward life in her words sent chills down the hearts of the adult Treants around her, making them restless and uneasy.