"Let's stop here."
With just one sentence, Moran halted the impending clash between the two major factions of the clock tower.
"I am aware of your anxieties.
However, this voting resolution is not meant to decide the future of the magical world for you, right?"
As the voice echoed in the resolution room, it was unclear if it was an illusion.
It seemed as if an overwhelming mass was coalescing into a form.
In an instant, the monarchs felt terror, as if they were witnessing a scene that could chill the bones, akin to the roar of ten thousand beasts.
When they came to their senses, cold sweat was pouring down.
They did not know where this imposing presence had come from.
The previously contentious aristocratic and democratic factions immediately fell silent.
"Um…"
Lorelei's gaze shifted to the throne.
In an instant, she seemed to see a perfect figure.
With jet-black hair and eyes, paired with a flawless, elegant face. There was not a trace of laziness or indifference, exuding the unique demeanor and majesty of an eternal monarch.
It was an illusion akin to a mirage.
The next second, when she came to her senses again, what she saw was a lazy and disrespectful person lying on the throne, yawning.
"What… is going on…"
Lorelei was unsure if it was an illusion or reality.
Clearly, in this resolution room located in the ancient heart's layer, no abnormal situation should occur. She had always adhered to Barthomeloi's family teachings.
One must always maintain the demeanor of a king, standing as the pinnacle of modern magi in Britain.
However, in that brief moment, she felt lost.
If Lorelei is a beautiful lioness with unparalleled grace, then what she just faced was a thousand-meter giant dragon lurking in the abyss.
She did not feel hostility from it.
On the contrary, she felt a radiant warmth full of love.
It was awe-inspiring, a light capable of melting souls. She did not know if the other monarchs had noticed.
"An illusion…?"
Lorelei scanned the other monarchs.
In the end, she found that their faces were more filled with confusion, and they did not share her emotional changes.
The gazes of the monarchs turned to Moran on the throne.
They saw him still in that leisurely posture.
Most did not believe that the pressure was something Moran could release; they thought it was the power of Britain.
The monarchs recalled and could not help but swallow hard.
They personally understood why the predecessors of their respective houses had almost endless warnings when abdicating—
To offer absolute loyalty to the King of Britain.
They had thought it was merely the deterrent power of blood contracts.
However, it seems that this truth is not entirely as they imagined.
Those chosen by Britain will undoubtedly become kings; even if they are not yet mature as kings, they still possess the proof of kingship.
This is not some vague concept.
For Britain, this is just an established fact.
"Your Majesty, you said you are interested in this resolution…"
"I am indeed interested, but I only said I wanted to listen; I never said I would make a decision for you," Moran said hesitantly, shifting his gaze.
It was as if he was saying that he was just here to listen and had no intention of taking charge of the matter for the monarchs.
McDonell's smile was bitter.
His heart was crying out in despair.
One could only think that the recent pressure was the will of Britain; this king was even more casual and irresponsible than everyone had imagined.
"To ask me to decide the future direction of the magical world on my first day in office is too hasty.
You must understand, I haven't even officially ascended the throne, and before I came here, I was just an incompetent student with no prospects in Professor Kayneth's classroom."
Moran propped his face up in boredom.
Especially when the teacher-student relationship was mentioned, Kayneth felt the questioning gazes of the monarchs.
They seemed to be asking, "Is this how you teach your students?"
Kayneth felt a wave of stomach pain.
It was clearly Moran who was not following the usual script.
Having their problem student chosen as the new king of Britain seemed like bad news for El-Melloi.
In the past, the previous kings of Britain had all fulfilled the mission of continuing Britain; Kayneth only hoped that Britain wouldn't collapse under Moran.
Otherwise, this generation of monarchs would have no face to meet their ancestors.
They did not want to become eternal sinners.
"In fact, even with my level, I might not be able to understand this report on the Albion Spirit Cavern. Regarding the various operations of the Clock Tower, I do not intend to intervene; I think it's quite good to continue under the management of the Barthomeloi's department."
Moran played the role of a carefree manager.
It seemed he did not intend to bear the responsibilities of a king.
The monarchs of the democratic camp wanted to say something, but the aristocratic camp would not give them the opportunity.
"Yes, I will obey the king's will and continue to operate the Clock Tower under Barthomeloi's management," Lorelei nodded to Moran.
In response, Moran slightly nodded.
The democratic camp had nothing to say.
Although Moran had yet to show a trace of kingly proof, he had not made the monarchs give up hope.
The more he resembled a mortal, the more opportunities there were.
The monarchs could still try to win the king's attention.
Even if Moran did not have the demeanor of a king.
The monarchs believed that after Moran ascended the throne, he would surely be endowed with mystery by Britain.
"Your Majesty, you have re-signed the blood contract at the Clock Tower; there are still many matters on the surface that require your personal involvement. The people of Britain need to witness the king's ascension. Only a Britain ruled by a king is a powerful Britain."
"Ah… that sounds troublesome…"
Moran said this without any pretense.
He did not want to end up like some golden Pikachu, suffering from overwork.
In the past, Moran had Morgan and Guinevere.
Most of the internal affairs were shared by his subordinates and wife.
Moran only needed to decide the general development direction of the country and review documents and reports.
Now, times had changed.
Becoming the king of Britain required not only ruling the mysterious side but also participating in the modern society on the surface and engaging in activities.
Ascension, political exchanges, signing documents, parades…
Britain's system had evolved into a parliamentary constitutional monarchy over a thousand years, and the level of trouble was far greater than in the past.
The king of Britain who ascended to the throne held the highest power in the country.
Initially, when Moran was the first king, the governing system was quite rough, gradually improving only after Artoria took over.
Today's Britain is a vast national machine.
The power and strength held by the king also led to an enormous workload for successive kings.
After all, the king is protected by the mystery of Britain.
They would not feel fatigue.
The workload was taken for granted by the previous kings, and only the first king enjoyed a carefree life.
Of course, such a legendary tale, akin to heresy, could not be passed down.
"Your Majesty, please display the demeanor that a king should have; sighing like this does not conform to the king's style. Britain still needs you to bring glory."
"Ah… life is hard…"
Lorelei looked at the sighing Moran, her brows furrowed.
Why did Britain choose this man?
What did he surpass her in?
Even though she knew that such thoughts were disloyal as a subordinate.
She still couldn't help but think this way.