Don't confiscate my identity as a human race

Chapter 1049 - 763: Shadow World: Eternal Punishment Undead Fate_2

Three years had passed since the victory.

The newspaper that followed reported another event: at the time of the post-war election, everyone believed that Wilford would win. His campaign events were unprecedentedly grand, and the intelligence agency of the Demon World also thought that Wilford would win by more than 80 seats.

But Wilford lost, and the cheering crowds were actually bidding him farewell.

After years of war, service, sacrifice, bombardment, casualty notifications, rationing, and famine, the people were exhausted.

Looking at their battered homeland, they felt at a loss, while Wilford’s campaign platform was still ideological, calling on the people to continue striving and pointing out the obligations and duties of the Polante Empire.

But the people were already weary.

Wilford asked the people for more, but they had already given once before in 602.

This was a reflection of the disintegration of national morale in the election.

Compared to the responsibilities of the great northern countries, what the people needed more were relaxed food distributions, more lenient fiscal policies, and more public housing.

So when Wilford appeared before them after the war, a gentleman of the Polante Empire era, a leader during the war, and spoke to the people about the greatness of Polante and the responsibilities of the nation, they gave him enthusiastic applause.

And so his defeat became the outcome, with that most honorable figure left behind in the reports.

"It seems I’m no longer the Prime Minister," Lanci thought, feeling relieved.

He wasn’t much surprised by this result.

"Why? Why did this happen?" Talia protested in his heart.

"Because the people have suffered, no one wants to suffer more, and they shouldn’t have to," Lanci explained gently to Talia.

Prime Minister Wilford’s tenure ended with a certain dignity.

He had been consistent throughout, and the people paid him their respects.

Looking further to the right,

The walls were no longer covered with printed newspaper reports but had returned to a few commemorative oil paintings.

Empress Kexiya’s light voice startled the Cat Boss on Lanci’s lap.

It had been so engrossed it hadn’t noticed.

At some point, Empress Kexiya of Polante had entered the dining room.

She sat down in the old spot—across from Lanci.

"Your Majesty Empress Kexiya."

Lanci put down the cat and prepared to rise and bow to Empress Kexiya, who had just arrived.

Twelve years had passed, and the once youthful Empress Kexiya was approaching forty, matured and much more composed, yet still captivating.

"No need for formalities."

Empress Kexiya elegantly extended her hand towards Lanci, gesturing for him to sit at the other end of the long table.

Her mannerisms exuded aristocratic grace, jewels sparkling amidst her satin-brown hair, her clear blue eyes seeming to penetrate through the silver-white mask on the other’s face, yet cautiously maintaining a sense of measured distance.

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

Lanci inclined his head in a bow, his cloak swirling lightly along the carpet, and then he sat down again.

He lifted his head, locking eyes with Empress Kexiya.

The dining room fell silent for a moment, with only the ticking of the clock and the crackle of the fire in the hearth.

The interior of the dining room wasn’t cold, but the winter air occasionally seeped through the windowsill, bringing with it frosty mist and leaving no trace of birds in flight.

The two sat in silence, as if awaiting a feast, yet also as if weighing their words.

As the sovereign of a nation, Empress Kexiya, normally entangled in public duties, rarely had such opportunities for private, intimate conversation outside of necessary public appearances.

Following the former routine of a Prime Minister, Lanci would normally start the conversation, explaining to the Empress the direction of parliamentary decisions, the progress of domestic and international affairs, and the future challenges they faced.

But times had changed, and this luncheon was no longer a meeting between the Emperor and Prime Minister as before.