Li Ziran's statement was not long—perhaps the shortest among all the councilors—but its inviolable attitude sent a chill through everyone present.
The Iron-Blooded Councilor enjoyed a high reputation among the commoners, but not among the councilors. Some of them even resented him.
A large part of his iron-blooded reputation had been piled up atop these nobles. Although Woz would soon be in charge of negotiations with the Elves, judging by his usual methods, a great many people would certainly have to pay for his rise to power.
Though the applause thundered, everyone below harbored different thoughts.
No one wanted to become a stepping stone for this deputy councilor's ascent.
George VII began to leave. As the Human King, his task was already complete. What remained were mostly useless speeches, and there was no need for him to attend.
His presence alone already counted as considerable importance.
Li Ziran had important matters to deal with—his identity.
His team, his women, and the forces entangled with him.
They had to be settled as quickly as possible.
He needed to lure Andre over as soon as possible, rather than waste time on this clutter.
This identity was quite good. At the very least, it could save him a great deal of time.
Li Ziran followed an attendant into the adjoining conference hall. Both sides of the long oval table were already filled with armored figures, as though they were waiting for something.
These were his confidants. Every one of them was worth rejoicing over—at least, for the former Rooney.
At the head of the table lay the appointment document from earlier. To its left was a special order assigning him the specific task of handling negotiations with the Elves.
Li Ziran plopped down into a seat, casually flipped through the documents, and glanced