欧美人与动牲交片免费

Chapter 804  Conversation IV

Despite her exile by the Grand Xor’Vak, her loyalty to her civilization had not diminished. She still had her faction—loyal followers who supported her in her ambition to one day challenge the Grand Xor’Vak for leadership. Her pride in her heritage and people remained unshaken, and hearing Aron speak of taking over her civilization as if it were some trivial task stung deeply.

But Seraphina held her composure. The promise she had made to Aron—that she would hear him out—echoed in her mind. Her civilization’s culture valued keeping one’s word, seeing it as a testament to strength. Breaking her promise, even in the face of such provocative statements, would be a stain on her pride and character.

So, she swallowed her immediate anger, the fires of indignation simmering just beneath the surface. She decided she would let him finish. Once his explanation was complete and her promise fulfilled, she would take action—whether that meant walking away, retaliating, or something else entirely. For now, she listened, her expression one of steely control as Aron continued.

Seeing Seraphina remain silent, signaling her intent to let him continue, Aron chose not to waste any more time and pressed on with his explanation. He felt no concern about her divulging the information, as both the runic contract and mana oath served as ironclad safeguards against such a possibility. Even in the unlikely event of a loophole being exploited to spread the details, it would pose no threat. The conversation was merely theoretical—plans yet to be acted upon carry no substance and, therefore, no grounds for retaliation, though it would make his plan a bit difficult to actualise but not impossible.

“Our civilization has a saying: ‘Too many cooks spoil the broth.’ It means that when too many people are involved in a task, the result is often poor,” Aron began, his voice measured and clear. “This idiom perfectly describes the Astral Conclave. While its members outwardly act as a unified group, in reality, they are entangled in their own internal squabbles, prioritizing personal gains over the collective good. This dynamic creates a precarious web of competing interests, where even the smallest disturbance can trigger a cascade of failures.”

To ensure his words resonated, Nova provided visual aids, illustrating his points with clarity to help Seraphina comprehend.

“A prime example is the response to Xlathar’s distress call. Instead of coordinating as a united front, each civilization acted independently. You fought as individuals, not as a cohesive force, which drastically reduced your effectiveness. Even your arrival here was inefficient. The wormholes could have transported far more ships had there been cooperation. But instead, each faction acted selfishly, focusing on its own interests. And now, here you are, listening to me point out these missteps,” he continued, his tone unwavering but without overt condescension.

“These internal conflicts and rivalries must be untangled—or at least managed—to prevent catastrophe. Imagine facing a powerful external enemy who exploits your divisions, triggering a civil war that leaves you even more vulnerable.” He paused briefly, allowing his words to sink in. Seraphina’s expression tightened, a mix of frustration and reflection apparent.

Aron then shifted his tone, addressing the broader justification for his involvement. “Why am I the one proposing this plan? Because our civilization is an outsider to the Astral Conclave. We have no entanglements, no pre-existing biases, and no vested interests. This detachment allows us to act as neutral arbiters, free from the conflicts and prejudices that have hindered your unity.”

After another brief pause, Aron’s voice grew sharper, more personal. “That’s the politically correct reasoning—and it holds some truth. But it’s not the whole story. The real reason lies in a lesson I learned years ago, as a mere citizen on a planet with over two hundred countries. It was a smaller-scale version of what the Astral Conclave is experiencing now. The divisions, the rivalries, the constant power struggles—it all culminated in them attempting to take from me what was mine because they perceived me as weak, unworthy of what I possessed.”

When Aron delved briefly into his backstory, Seraphina struggled to reconcile the idea that someone could rise from being an ordinary citizen in a fractured world to ruling a united empire in just ten years. Yet, despite her skepticism, Aron pressed on with his explanation.

“What I’m trying to do is prevent a repeat of that chaos by proactively establishing countermeasures instead of simply reacting to problems as they arise. These countermeasures are critical not just for safeguarding the mana stone trade but also for protecting the advanced technologies that will emerge as we merge incoming technologies from the defeated civilizations with our own. There will always be those driven by greed, unable to comprehend the bigger picture,” Aron explained, his tone steady and resolute.

Seraphina paused, letting his words settle. Then, with a measured tone, she asked, “So what does that have to do with me?”

Aron’s response was direct. “You may have been abandoned by your Grand Elder, but you are still of your race, and I possess a challenge ticket—a privilege you can use. The condition, however, is that you agree to become my subordinate.”

The atmosphere tensed immediately. Seraphina’s grip on her teacup tightened, and in a single moment, it shattered in her hand. The nanomachines, detecting her surge of strength, attempted to escape but were obliterated in seconds, their remains releasing faint wisps of smoke from her clenched fist.

Recognizing the danger of her temper flaring, Aron raised his hand calmly to draw her attention, diffusing the growing tension. “Before you act rashly, hear me out,” he said firmly. “I understand how your system operates, and this time, I intend to use it to my advantage.”

Then, with a sharp gaze that conveyed both confidence and authority, Aron declared, “I hereby challenge you to a duel. Should you win, you’ll keep your freedom. But if I win, you will swear unwavering loyalty to me and become my subordinate.”n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om