Chapter 14

"Why?"

Clyris looked at him with genuine confusion, her crimson eyes searching his face. He knew exactly what she was. She was the Demon Lord, the scourge of the continent. So why did he dare to say such things?

"Because we face the same formidable enemies, Miss Clyris," Charlo explained, ticking them off on his fingers. "The Three Great Empires, the Church of Holy Light, and even the Elven Court—they are not only your enemies now, but they will very likely be mine in the future! Their power is overwhelming. Therefore, isn't it logical for us to cooperate?"

"But I am a Demon, and you are Human!" She remained unmoved, clutching her cloak tighter. "Our races have fought for tens of thousands of years. The blood debt is oceanic. You cannot simply declare an alliance just because you say so!"

"True." He nodded, then a sly, statesman-like smile played on his lips. "That is why I said cooperate, not ally. We will have no official contact. We will sign no treaties. We will fight our own battles, but strategically, we will act to relieve pressure on each other's fronts. That way, whether it’s your people or mine, everyone can accept the reality. It is called plausible deniability."

"Is... is that how it works?" Clyris was visibly shaken. Such a loophole exists?

"Of course! Politics is the art of the possible," Charlo smiled faintly.

"This..." Clyris looked at him.

At this moment, the handsome young Lord didn't look like a "good person" at all. Behind that pleasant, disarming smile, she felt she could see rivers of blood and the cold calculus of war.

"But aren't you an Imperial Noble?" She hesitated, frowning. "Why would you declare war on the Empire? From what I saw on the road, you treat your subjects well. You seem like a peaceful, benevolent man. Why seek destruction?"

"Miss Clyris, even the most peaceful man can have dreams and ambitions..." he said calmly, his gaze drifting to the smoking chimneys of his factories.

Clyris suddenly realized she couldn't read him.

Based on his attitude toward his people, he was kind and gentle. He cared about the lives of commoners, valued their dignity, and even extended compassion to slaves.

Yet, on the other hand, he had ruled here for only four years and had already built weapons of mass destruction capable of threatening Fifth-Rank supernaturals. He made no effort to hide his ambition, casually discussing the overthrow of an Empire that had stood for millennia!

The Three Great Empires had dominated this continent for thirty thousand years. The last time a non-demon faction rose to challenge them was in the Age of Myths.

Peace and ambition seemed to exist in a delicate, paradoxical balance within him.

"Miss Clyris!" he spoke again, breaking her reverie. "What do you think commoners and slaves are?"

"This..." Clyris paused. Why is he asking such a strange question out of nowhere?

"Uh... Commoners are subjects of the nobility, sworn to serve them in exchange for protection..." she stammered, reciting the ancient laws. "Slaves... uh, are the property of the nobility. Tools. That's how it is... right?"

"Is that so..." Charlo sighed, a look of profound disappointment crossing his face. "Your view is exactly the view of the nobles. That is why, in their eyes, sacrificing commoners is often necessary, and sacrificing slaves is utterly mundane. To them, it is no different than breaking a shovel."

"But!"

His voice suddenly rose, vibrating with conviction. "Slaves, commoners, even nobles—in my eyes, they are all the same! At the very least, in terms of life and dignity, they should be equal!"

"What..." Clyris was stunned. What is this man saying?

"You find it strange?"

She nodded subconsciously. It wasn't just strange; it was heresy.

"Then let me ask you: aside from magic, what is the difference between people?"

He stepped closer, explaining passionately. "Commoners and slaves have flesh and blood. They can learn, they can think, they cry when they are hurt, and they laugh when they are happy. By what right are nobles considered 'human' while commoners and slaves are treated as mere 'livestock'?"

"Although magic does brutally enforce class divisions, there are noble children born without magical talent, and slave children born with it! From this perspective, fundamentally, there is no difference between a noble and a slave!"

"So—how is it reasonable that a slave is considered the property of a noble?" he shouted, his voice echoing off the iron cannons.

Clyris was startled by his blasphemous words. She hurriedly looked around at the soldiers staffing the artillery battery. To her surprise, none of them showed any shock. Instead, they stood taller, their chests swelling with pride.

"Exactly! This situation is unreasonable!"

Charlo pointed to the soldiers around them. "Look! These are the soldiers who came here with me from the beginning. Before this, some were commoners, some were slaves!"

"But now? They are more loyal than nobles, more humble than knights, and more noble than priests!"

"So you see, nobles are not inherently noble, and the existence of slaves is unjustifiable!"

Charlo's tone calmed down, but the intensity remained. He gazed at the cold steel of the 150mm cannon and spoke slowly.

"Therefore, I will smash this unreasonable order. I will build a new world where everyone has dignity, a world where there are no more slaves."

"It is destined to be a bloody process. The nobles will never voluntarily give up their power to look their 'talking tools' in the eye. Therefore, we must use cannons—the Wisdom of Mortals—to send them to hell!"

"But..." Clyris looked up at him, grappling with his logic. "No matter what, you cannot make a High-Rank Supernatural equal to an ordinary person. Any High-Rank powerhouse can slaughter an entire city in a day if unopposed. How can you make a dragon equal to an ant?"

"Indeed!" Charlo nodded. "I said before, the existence of magic cannot be ignored. Therefore, I never said everyone is functionally equal!"

"What do you mean...?" She was confused again.

"Absolute functional equality... that is just a beautiful dream..." Charlo whispered. "Even without magic, people are divided by intellect, strength, and talent... let alone in this world, where magic objectively divides people into tiers."

"Some people will never advance to High-Rank in their lives; others ascend overnight! Low-Rank can kill ordinary people; Mid-Rank can kill Low-Rank; High-Rank can slaughter everyone below them. It is like a food chain."

"But the reason humans are human is that we do not abandon the weak. We are not mindless beasts. The law of the jungle should not be our law!"

Charlo looked at her earnestly. "The strong can certainly have higher status and more resources! But no matter what, both the strong and the weak should be treated as People! The weak deserve dignity, dreams, and hope!"

"The weak should not be oppressed as a matter of course. They should not be stripped of everything. Their lives will be respected, their voices will be heard, and their rights will be in their own hands. That is the order I want to build."

He reached out his hand to the Demon Lord once more, smiling against the backdrop of the rising sun.

"So... do you want to cooperate?"

Cooperate...

After listening to his insane, absurd, beautiful manifesto, Clyris found that she was no longer surprised by the idea of an alliance.

She couldn't help but wonder: If I had met him back then... before the wars, before the hatred... would my life be completely different? If it had been him...

Unfortunately, time cannot be reversed. The past cannot be changed.

She was... no longer human. She could never go back.

Beneath her veil, the corners of Clyris's mouth lifted into a sad, cruel smile. She raised her hand, her pale, scarred fingers grasping his.

"Alright. I agree!"