Chapter 179
Vera glanced at Cornelia.
These two sisters have completely opposite personalities.
"She, living in a fantasy world, is not suited to confronting the front lines in District 11. At least not in the current District 11."
After offering her helpful suggestion, Vera looked at Euphemia.
"Euphemia, life is not like a song. One day, you may be greatly disappointed."
"Please forgive me, but due to the busy political affairs in European Britannia, I am unable to travel to District 11. The political situation in the Far East is also not suitable for me to add fuel to the fire, unless a full-scale purge is launched on the District 11 archipelago."
"If you have time, why not come to Scandinavia to relax?"
Just as she was about to end the communication, Euphemia spoke up.
"Imperial Sister Vera, will you treat the Honorary Eleven European Expeditionary Corps on the Eastern Europe front equally?"
"Well..."
Cornelia rubbed her forehead, her delicate eyebrows twitching almost imperceptibly, her beautiful, mature face filled with helplessness.
On the holographic projection screen, Vera paused in her action of turning off the communication, first sighed, then leaned back in the chair, crossed her legs, and placed her hands on her thighs.
"I won't lie to you, Euphemia."
Vera remained completely calm.
"The answer is no. I am the Third Princess of Britannia, the heir to the throne, the ruler and lord of the Britannia, and every decision I make must be based on my position and reason."
"District 11 occupies less than one percent of the Empire's vast territory. Apart from Sakura Stone and its strategic location, it is so small as to be almost non-existent in the Empire's allocation of administrative resources."
Upon hearing this, Euphemia's eyes gradually dimmed.
"Your Imperial Sister, what you call 'almost non-existent' is their entirety."
"I know."
Vera calmly took a sip of her flower tea.
"Therefore, I will reward those who have made contributions."
"Although the starting point for honorary Britannia in District 11 is destined to be lower than that of their own people, and the process is more difficult, and ZERO's assassination of Clovis will mean that their promotion ceiling will not change for several years, I am still willing to give them the opportunity to prove their loyalty and courage to the Empire on the battlefield, to become my sharp blade, to kill the traitorous foreign compatriots who offer their loyalty to the EU, to defeat the enemies of the Empire, to temper and hone themselves, and then to transform into true 'Britannia'!"
"Their families will be accepted by Imperial society. The rights of citizens in the Empire will be extended to them."
"There will be no preferential treatment or special privileges, but I will directly implement the pensions, benefits for those who died in battle, and promotion opportunities."
Vera looked at Euphemia, who was still processing her presentation of the "Policy of Advancing Ranks Based on Military Merit".
"Euphemia, I know you are loving and kind, and these virtues are not wrong. But blind kindness is useless."
"I hope you can control your impulses. Some things can't be solved once and for all. We only have one chance to make an exception, and once that right is returned or given up, it's gone."
The cool voice coming through the speaker pulled Euphemia back to reality, as if her deepest thoughts, which she had never even fully realized, had been exposed. She seemed extremely confused, her eyes darting away, but in the end she bravely met Vera's gaze.
A strong and stubborn look in his eyes.
Vera just smiled.
That's all I have to say. Euphemia, please remember this.
Made in European Britannia, and crafted with meticulous care regardless of cost, the holographic projection panel perfectly reproduces her facial contours and micro-expressions, with her dignified and solemn indigo eyes meeting her gentle and warm dark purple eyes.
"All Hail All Hail Britannia!"
Vera said.
Beep... beep...
After she finished speaking, the image disappeared, and Vera hung up the call.
Only Euphemia remained, her shoulders suddenly trembling.
"Euphemia, the right Vera mentioned... does that mean you're considering returning the right to the throne? All for the sake of these numbered citizens?!"
The stern voice of her older sister Cornelia came from behind.
The 'Imperial Witch's' face was no longer as calm and composed as before.
Looking at her younger sister, she almost burst into a tirade.
The right of succession to the throne is a right that a legitimate child of the Britannia royal family possesses from birth.
It not only means you are qualified to become emperor, but it is also a symbol of the privileges of royal family members. With it, even if you do not inherit the throne, you are still a member of the royal family. If you don't do anything reckless, you will live a worry-free life.
In special circumstances, this can even be used as a price to obtain an effect equivalent to a decree of imperial authority, a pardon, an imperial edict, or a blank check.
You can only use it once. After that, you are no different from a commoner under the law, and how many people recognize you depends entirely on the individual.
"Euphemia, you'd better give up that idea! I won't agree! My mother won't agree either!"
Cornelia knew, of course, that her sister was heartbroken by the aggression and racial discrimination in their homeland of Britannia, and that she had a grand vision for a peaceful world where everyone could be equal and happy.
You've only visited a few slums in the residential area, and yet you had such thoughts about the people from District 11 who assassinated Clovis.
No, such dangerous thoughts must not exist even for the slightest bit!
"You're too naughty, Euphemia! I'm going to send you back—"
"I'm sorry, Your Imperial Sister."
Under Cornelia's unprecedentedly serious scrutinizing gaze, Euphemia choked up and lowered her head.
Thump, thump.
Just as the two were speechless, a polite knock sounded on the door.
"Your Highness, Lord Ron has arrived."
It's the voice of Cornelia's Imperial Guard: Gilbert GP Guilford.
"Please come in."
Taking a deep breath and forcibly calming herself down, Cornelia glared at Euphemia again and said, "Reflect."
Squeak~
A man wearing glasses and with a long black ponytail pushed open the door and entered.
Cornelia and Euphemia turned around and saw a burly, powerful figure following Gilford into the room.
The man was dressed in a specially made pure white knight's outfit, and draped with a cloak that only twelve people in all of Britannia were allowed to wear.
His identity is self-evident: the Eighth Round Table Knight, Albrecht von Rohn.
He came from the military aristocratic faction led by the Hohenzollern family.
Alongside Moltke Fifth Round Table Knight, she is considered a staunch supporter of the Third Princess and a sharp blade of the Empire.
"Your Highness Cornelia, Your Highness Euphemia."
After the ceremony, Ron swiftly handed Cornelia a data tablet.
"This is Princess Vera's return gift list."
The latter took the data tablet and swiped the touchscreen.
"Seventh Generation [Vincent]... This is? A cybernetic special forces unit, demobilized wounded soldiers, cyborgs? Drone operator, this reconnaissance efficiency... Sigh, an intelligent robot?"
As Cornelia read the product overview, her expression gradually became inscrutable. Hmph.
Meanwhile, in the Imperial Capital Pendragon.
Camelot Palace.
"All Hail Britannia"
Vera sipped her floral tea expressionlessly.
She was reminding Euphemia.
If you aspire to be a philanthropist who transcends national borders and races, have you ever considered where your rights and status come from?
It's not that we can't be philanthropic, it's just that the time isn't right.
Recalling Euphemia's idea, as a member of the Britannia royal family, she used her right to the Britannia throne to get the cabinet to pass the so-called Special Administrative Region Law, then restore the name Japan, and abolish the privileges and law enforcement powers of Britannia in this region.
This special administrative region was established through privileges.
This approach is unreliable and cannot last.
Most Britannia must have a problem with Euphemia.
People in District 11 might not be grateful for long.
Because desires can never be satisfied.
When good times last too long, it's easy to overthink.
Perhaps the special economic zone can remain stable for a few years or ten years, but what about when the next generation grows up?
If someone were to advocate for expanding the special economic zone, and then relaxing the screening standards to allow more compatriots to live a better life, without a doubt, this place would become a breeding ground for independent thought, leading to the pursuit of autonomy for the District 11, and ultimately, a war of independence.
The key is to persist with the assimilation policy, using a combination of slaps and sweet treats to continuously undermine identity and reshape class.
Vera harbored no ill will towards Euphemia; kindness is always a precious quality. She would personally help someone in need, and she would also save someone in distress. She wasn't a hypocrite or a double standard.
Realistically speaking, she's just a harmless decorative vase.
Her stage should be for human rights public relations and for sending conciliatory signals to dilute the hostility.
That's enough. The reminder has been delivered; I've done my duty.
Just then, Vera heard a sound and a woman's gentle voice behind her.
"Avi, your conversation with Cole and Euphemia is over. Does that mean we're going back to our district?"
There was only one person in the Camelot Palace who could speak to Vera in that tone.
Princess Victoria Adelheid.
"Yes, Mother."
Vera turned around, straightened her posture, and hugged her mother with a smile.
"What did you talk about with your father the day before yesterday? You stayed up all night. You went to the Avalon Palace to pay your respects early this morning and didn't return until noon."
As Victoria gently straightened Vera's folded scarf and uniform buttons with her fair and soft fingers, she asked curiously.
"Some issues with military reform and the authorization for the scale of EU warfare. Well, I'd call it big artilleryism. Saturation attackism. Intelligent control and unmanned development strategies. Then there are some minor issues with the differentiated policy of rewarding merit and promotion."
Vera recalled her conversation with Old Deng, the Egg Roll Maker.
The definition of "cannon" here is not narrowly limited to traditional large-caliber artillery.
It includes reliable old partners driven by chemical and explosives, such as missiles, rocket artillery, and man-portable multi-purpose assault weapon systems, as well as new development directions driven by high reaction energy, such as electromagnetic railguns, diffusion structure phase transfer guns, charged particle guns, and Hadron Cannon.
"Artillery doctrine..."
Victoria glanced at Vera.
"You child, you've always liked tall, uniform, shiny, and noisy things. Your temperament is just like a dragon's."
Vera laughed it off.
After her mother helped secure and straighten her cloak, Vera grabbed a folder from the table, tossed the cloak aside, and laughed heartily.
"Mother, when I return next time, I will present you with Kyiv."
Vera originally wanted to say Warsaw, but after thinking about it, she realized that Warsaw was too tough. It was the EU's headquarters on the Eastern Europe front, the last major city before Berlin, and had been fortified for who knows how many years. Without dropping nuclear bombs or Freya warheads, it seemed that it would not be something that could be taken down in a short time, so she changed her name to Kyiv.
As Vera stepped out of the gates of the Camelot Palace, Vera patted the folder in her hand as her guards bent down to open the car door.
—— [AREA 11 Honorary Britannia Archives]——
Number: 14107, subordinate to the 11th Area Army.
Military rank: Private First Class.
Name: Suzaku Kururugi.
Ethnicity: Former Japanese.
Gender: Male.