Meng Chao ultimately made no statement on the matter.
And more often than not, making no statement was the clearest statement of all.
From that day onward, the attitudes within Meng Chao's major factions regarding how he "must, and would, go a step further" grew increasingly sharp and uncompromising.
Countless men of insight proved, with irrefutable eloquence from the perspectives of culture, law, morality, and interests, that a supreme hereditary leader was the only solution for ruling this vast world of diverse races, cultures, and power systems.
And in the distant north, voices supporting Meng Chao also rose louder than ever before.
The Northern Chaos Divisions, such as the undead liches, Abyss Demon Race, Two-Headed Trolls, and Frost Barbarians, might still have been at a relatively primitive and backward stage of civilization.
Yet every leader qualified to rule an entire tribe had grown up steeped in schemes and intrigues from childhood.
Even the barbarian chieftains who appeared brawny and simple-minded had twists and turns beneath skulls as hard as iron that ran unfathomably deep.
The Northern Chaos Divisions knew full well the civilizational gap between themselves and the Earthlings.
They also knew that if they clashed head-on with the Earthlings, they—still in a medieval era and relying mainly on cold weapons—did not stand much chance of winning.
Yet the Northern Chaos Divisions were equally unwilling to let tens of millions of Dragon City people ride on their necks.
Honoring Meng Chao's absolute authority appeared to mean needlessly acquiring another master.
But one master was still better than tens of millions of masters.
Besides, whether it was "First Citizen" or "Chaos Emperor," it was nothing more than an illusory title.
If the Northern Chaos Divisions were willing to discard meaningless pride, they could always trade it with Meng Chao and his