Seeing Ivan still looking dejected, Romanov stepped forward and, in a rare gesture, patted his great-grandson the emperor on the shoulder. His tone held a trace of reassurance. "Grandson, I know you feel wronged and unwilling to accept this, but those who achieve great things must endure what ordinary men cannot.
"The infamy you bear today is for the sake of preserving the Romanov Lineage's realm and ensuring the Great Luo Dynasty's continued reign. A moment's humiliation amounts to nothing. When history takes up its brush across the ages, future generations will understand your restraint and sacrifices today!"
Those words were like a piping-hot bowl of chicken soup poured down Ivan's throat.
Bitterness filled Ivan's heart. How could he not know these were merely words of comfort?
History was often written by the victors. If Daluo ultimately could not escape destruction, he would be condemned as a sinner for all eternity. If they were fortunate enough to survive this calamity, perhaps posterity's judgment might still soften.
But did he have any other choice now? Fight Li Chen to the bitter end? That was precisely what Li Chen most wanted to see, giving him a legitimate excuse to crush Daluo utterly.
"I understand." Ivan let out a long, heavy breath, as though he had expelled all his pride along with it.
Soon, Ivan issued a decree summoning the Third Prince, Matvei, to the palace for an audience.
He chose Matvei rather than the exceptionally capable and notoriously ambitious Crown Prince precisely because of his "incompetence" and "cowardice."
The Crown Prince was obstinate, highly capable, and arrogant about his talents. He might refuse to bow to the Witch Ancestor, or even act rashly before the situation stabilized and lose the entire game.
Matvei, by contrast, was the least remarkable and most mediocre