There was nothing to discuss at all.
FrostNova had not listened to him in the slightest. She was merely lost in her own thoughts.
It came naturally to her—she wanted to kill this man.
The killing intent was impossible to suppress, seeping from every corner of FrostNova's memories like a frenzied tide.
The emperors who had occupied the Kremlin, generation after generation—their hands had always been clean, unstained by blood. Yet they consumed the fruits stripped layer by layer from the people below, and were the ultimate beneficiaries.
FrostNova's face, usually as cold and unchanging as eternity, was now filled with fury.
"I understand."
Nikolai—or rather, Shang Boliang—spoke with utmost seriousness. "I truly understand. Becoming an emperor was not my choice, just as being born in a mine was not yours. To me, those two things are exactly the same."
"But I have more important matters to attend to. Your anger and my helplessness are both insignificant."
"..."
Frost spread through the air.
Enormous dark gray ice spikes condensed into two massive throwing spears. Two freezing currents cut through the air, and the light flickered across FrostNova's furious face, making it seem strangely calm.
It had no effect.
Shang Boliang raised a finger, his golden hair floating upward as the black ice spears shattered inch by inch.
His scholarly habits slipped out by accident. Shang Boliang rambled on like an unqualified commentator. "Do you know what Originium Arts are?"
Without waiting for FrostNova to show any interest, he continued:
"The human mind resonates with Originium particles in the air, and Originium constructs everything according to human thoughts. It's quite simple. I reached this conclusion on my own when I was only a few years old. Originium is closely connected to humanity's spiritual body. The stronger the mind, the stronger the