The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Besides active collection, the Isha shrines throughout the Royal Court also receive various donations on a long-term basis. These are all acts of love and respect from the kingdom's citizens towards their beloved Queen. Therefore, in Aida, population equals economy. Coincidentally, the population of the Royal Court has already exceeded 300,000, in addition to the tributes provided by various barbaric kingdoms.

And the status of Aida goods in the galaxy is self-evident. If one could obtain a trade privilege, the profits would be unimaginable.

However, unlike free trade with other civilizations, the Eternal Royal Court currently has no private interstellar trade organizations. Residents can basically obtain everything they need in the free market, and they don't have a strong desire for wealth. It's as if the Eternal Royal Court has no proper merchants, at most just some small vendors. All trade activities are official, which is why the Great Soarian League dares to be so demanding—

Perhaps they think Aida lacks business acumen?

Or did the cooperation in the last Maelstrom Expedition allow them to taste the sweetness of monopolizing trade rights, so they want to repeat the same trick? He heard from Zorg's intelligence that the Great Soarian League made a fortune from those resource planets after the war, and they didn't show any extra gratitude or appreciation to him. Speaking of those plasma missile technologies, they acted as if he was asking for their lives.

They want to be stingy and make a big profit at the same time. The dwarves think too highly of themselves.

Soshjan sneered inwardly, pretending to read through the entire version of the cooperation agreement, and then placed it on the table in front of him.

"The cooperation agreement of your alliance, I have received it, and I have seen it, but I still need to discuss it with my beloved ministers. You may go back and wait for news."

"Your Highness, do you think—"

As the representative of the entire alliance, the Hearthkin, whose beard almost dragged on the ground and who wore a shiny robe, immediately received some feedback from Soshjan's tone. He knew that the other party was not satisfied.

After a moment, he cautiously said the following words.

"...are there any modifications that need to be made?"

"Discuss it first. As for the specifics, we will notify you when we have a result here."

"Approximately... how long?"

"This is hard to say, because I still need to report to Her Majesty and see her opinion. It's just that Her Majesty has been tired from traveling and her mood is not very good recently, so she may deal with these mundane matters later."

Just as the Hearthkin was about to say something, Soshjan stood up.

"Let's end here for today. I have a private meeting with Patriarch Vok, and I have already prepared a welcome banquet for everyone. Lord Dorar, please entertain the members of the Great Soarian League on my behalf."

Dorar turned around and bowed in response:

"Yes, Your Highness."

Soshjan then left the envoys of the Great Soarian League and went to change into a robe before heading to a garden to meet Patriarch Vok.

For some reason, he always felt that this mysterious old Hearthkin seemed to have something to say to him, but he didn't say it.

When he arrived, an old Hearthkin was already sitting in a chair beside the exquisite round four-legged table. The old man's hair was as white as the snow on the mountaintop. His braids were very long, and they seemed to blend in with the white beard below. The beard itself, draped over his knees, was far longer than his boots, hanging down under the chair. Beneath his slightly worn gray robe, complex patterns and occasional flashes of jewelry shimmered.

This Grimnir priest patriarch took a hard puff from his long pipe, and as the smoke rose, it twisted into strange and meaningful shapes.

He seemed very comfortable, without any restraint, as if this wasn't the solemn palace of the Eternal Royal Court, but just a random patch of wilderness.

"Patriarch Vok, long time no see. I am very gratified to see that you are still so hale and hearty."

Soshjan smiled and walked over, then sat down on the huge chair on the other side.

Subsequently, several maids walked over, carrying exquisite crystal bottles and cups, as well as some desserts, and poured a glass of wine for each of them. The old Hearthkin accepted it with a serious face and nodded to the maid pouring the wine:

"Thank you, young lady."

She returned a slightly shy smile and walked away, leaving only the huge and the small in the garden.

"Patriarch Vok, I just had a friendly meeting with the delegation of your alliance. I must say, the Hearthkin are indeed good at doing business."

Hearing this, a serious smile appeared on the face of the old Hearthkin, who was frowning.

"Because blood, ancestors, and profit are the necessary conditions for maintaining a Hearthkin alliance."

He took a sip of Aida wine and then made a subtle expression, unable to discern his evaluation of this expensive wine.

"Can you imagine, if there is no profit to be made, even the most solid alliance will disintegrate."

"I don't doubt that."

Soshjan also smiled, picked up the wine glass, and took a sip.

"Nevertheless..."

The old Hearthkin continued:

"...in this degenerate age, few Hearthkin would drink with a stranger in a strange place, and few Hearthkin would talk to a stranger without preparing any weapons."

Saying that, he put the pipe back in his mouth and raised the half-empty wine glass.

"Therefore, you can count old Vok as your esteemed friend..."

Soshjan also smiled and raised his glass, clinking it against the other party's with a clang, but the other party's next sentence froze him.

"...just like that ancestor of your Aleksei family."

Patriarch Vok took the pipe out of his mouth, drank the rest of the wine, and put on another face, seeming to fall into some kind of remembrance.

"It's been many years... I've forgotten how long it's been since I drank with another Aleksei."

The smile on Soshjan's face faded. He slowly put down the cup, and after a brief thought, he judged one thing - this Patriarch Vok should of course be acquainted with his ancestor Orod, or even know him well.

"Patriarch Vok, you are a friend of Orod, aren't you?"

The Hearthkin laughed.

"Smart little guy, but you are much more humble than him. He is a bit arrogant, of course, only on the surface. His heart is very complicated."

Soshjan nodded and picked up the wine glass to drink the liquid inside. No wonder the other party said a bunch of mystical things to him when they first met. At that time, he thought this Hearthkin had seen Xerxes or something. He didn't expect that he was actually an old friend of Orod's.

"When did you find out that I was his descendant? Just by the name?"

"The first time we met, I saw him in you."

Seeing that the other party's cup was empty, Soshjan gently pressed the bell on the table. Soon two maids walked over and filled the two people's cups again.

Vok didn't drink, but took a deep breath from the pipe, his expression seeming to be lost in thought.

"...The first time I met him was a long time ago. At that time, I was just a young man, and the Hearthkin's commercial alliance had just risen. We worked hard to open up warp routes outside the galactic core, hoping to extend the trade network. But after coming out, we found that the originally prosperous human civilization was becoming less and less, and, may you forgive me for saying this, the rich and colorful culture of mankind in the past was also becoming increasingly impoverished. The galaxy was only left with a military empire ruled by an undead demigod and his dozens of terrifying offspring, as well as millions of brutal gene-warriors. We dared not contact such an empire, and could only avoid the eyes and ears of the empire while trying to find trade partners. But the galaxy is never short of trouble, and we encountered a gang of Orks..."