The next day.

Magic calendar December 28, 2046.

On the eleventh day of Ye Mingyu's arrival in the imperial capital.

A high-level magic car stopped in front of the glorious hall, and the chief minister of the Blue Empire's cabinet, leaned on a cane, left the magic car with the help of his servant.

At six o'clock in the morning, the sky was gray and the same color as the limestone in the distance, and was almost connected at the border.

Today is the fourth convening of Congress.

The first three times ended with the victory of the Saint Faction, and so this time was the final competition in the political arena of the Canglan Empire.

If face is aside, it can also be said to be the last struggle of the cabinet faction.

"When people get old, they can't see anything clearly, and even the sky is ashes."

The chief assistant muttered and stepped onto the steps with a cane.

"Please be careful." The servant next to him said in a hurry.

The chief assistant didn't care about it, and still climbed up step by step with a crutch.

The vault is more than ten meters high, with Russian-style pillars carved with patterns below. There are statues of paladins on both sides of the pillars, riding horses, like gods guarding the kingdom of heaven.

Brilliant Hall.

The second generation of saints was built during the reign of the reign of the throne and has a history of thousands of years and is also the place where Congress is held.

The Prime Minister sat down on one side of the square table in the hall.

It was very early and there weren't all people. He put his hands on the table, and he looked like he was closing his eyes and squinted:

"Have the Sword Saint received the news?" He whispered to his confidants.

The confidant nodded, "I received it, but I did not reply."

No reply is likely to mean rejection.

The Prime Minister concealed the disappointment in his heart.

It was not disappointed with my future, but I was disappointed with this empire, the saints of this empire, and the swordsman family.

Extremely disappointed.

He once thought that the contemporary sword saint was jealous of evil.

But now the undead surrounded by the limestone area, the forbidden spell is ready, and it is about to drive straight into the sword saint, but he watched the Saint transfer the army from the imperial capital, indifferent...

The hand of the quartz clock jumped up and down, and the ticking sound was like a death talisman from hell.

The chief minister still had his eyes closed.

Even when the meeting was held, my eyes didn't open because it was meaningless.

The saint sat upright in the first place, covered in black feather, gracefully mixed with awesome slaughter:

"The fourth Congress was held to hold a final vote on orders not determined in the previous three meetings, the first item, regarding tax relief..."

The chief assistant listened quietly.

Although his ears are still working, he can't hear them clearly now.

It seemed as if all the sounds were separated by the mist, just like the sounds made after covering the quilt, and it was not real to hear them in the hazy way.

"veto."

“Abstain.”

"veto."

“Agree.”

All of these similar things are the same. All parties are quarreling for their own interests, protecting themselves, fighting against the enemy, and bullying them step by step...

Language turns into swords and swords, killing you to the death and aggressively at this table.

The chief assistant was a little tired, rubbed his temples and silently cast a veto.

"Result statistics, the tax reduction and exemption matter will be implemented from March next year..."

The deacon beside the saint announced the result loudly.

The Marquis of Chenfeng was also bribed... Then this result was expected.

Tax reduction?

Before the war was fought, are you preparing for the post-war economic recovery?

The chief assistant's heart is like a mirror, but he can't do anything about it.

"The second item, regarding the armed strengthening in the Morning Wind Territory and the defense of the Rift Valley Forest..."

“Agree.”

“Agree.”

All agree.

The chief minister silently cast a veto, drowned in the crowd with a few accomplices, and in front of interests, the so-called allies are like paper.

Various policies have been determined one after another. If these are insignificant, then the last one will directly determine life and death:

"The dragon tide has been turbulent recently. I have sent a Paladin guard to the northwest of Canglan to suppress the dragon plague and vote."

The chief minister opened his eyes.

All kinds of expressions of people fell into their eyes, without any sorrow or joy.

Suppressing the dragon's trouble? It's just an excuse!

With the northwest troops in this way, the Saint is going to let the last line of defense leave the imperial capital!

"Vote." The chief minister cast the first vote and decidedly.

He looked around, as if he was as powerful as a tiger. Someone lowered his head in shame and did not dare to look at him.

"Vote." The supervisor of the Supervisory Bureau voted.

The saint's expression was indifferent and nodded. Her long silver-white hair looked beautiful, as if the ups and downs of the world were not in my mind.

"Agree," the head of the knight looked at the prime minister coldly, "My subordinates cannot be killed in vain."

"Agree." Someone followed the vote.

"veto."

“Agree.”

The two sides were temporarily stalemate, and the chief assistant's eyes were calm and swept around.

The power of a sick tiger can still roar in the mountains and forests.

He is the sick tiger. Now he stands up and doesn't mind fighting for his life.

But a passionate heart could not change the reality. The Saint Faction always led the way until the meeting was about to end, and the Prime Minister instantly grew older several years.

It's over...he silently recited.

"veto."

The Prime Minister suddenly widened his eyes and looked at the source of the sound in shock. The contemporary sword saint's expression was solemn, and he stood up in his seat:

"Veed." The Sword Saint repeated.

Then the president of the Royal Academy of Magic abstained as always.

The votes remained the same.

"Then this matter is temporarily put on hold. Two days later, the fifth Congress will discuss it again. I hope everyone can think seriously about it for the sake of the empire." The saint said lightly.

"For the Empire?" the chief assistant laughed mockingly.

The saint was silent.

The chief minister stood up slowly, he trembled all over, glared and pointed his finger at the Saint:

"You are ashamed of your ancestors when you send the imperial capital to your opponent. Compared to the founding saint, you don't even deserve to carry your shoes!"

The saint did not refute and quietly watched the prime minister leave with his sleeves, not knowing what he was thinking.

"Goodbye." The Sword Saint picked up the sword and left the seat with the Chief Supervisor.

At the end of the fourth Congress, all the people left the venue, and in the empty and brilliant hall, there was only a faint sigh.

......

The Sword Saint and the Prime Minister boarded the same magic car.

"Thank you for your hard work." The Sword Saint put the sword horizontally on his knee.

"For the Empire." The chief assistant's voice was old.

“What’s next?”
To be continued...