"They're all detained in the Royal Guard's prison," Wolf replied. "And the other involved parties?" I pressed. Witnesses are key—without them, these slick bastards will squirm.
"All under dedicated watch. I told them they can't leave for a few days and must cooperate," Wolf said. "Any resistance?" I asked. "Some at first, but it fizzled fast. We outnumbered them—they couldn't stir," he answered.
"Good work, Wolf. You're beat—rest up. Tomorrow's tougher," I said. His bloodshot eyes showed a month of grueling work.
The next day, every outdoor screen and online stream on Flying Dragon Star broadcast the trial live. I wanted everyone to see the price of breaking the law and understand our purpose for living. At 10 a.m. sharp, all elder councilors were present.
"You humans baffle me. Why visit prostitutes? It's not like you lack women. If His Majesty banned multiple wives, I'd get it. Weird," Bear Te, the beastman elder, said, shaking his massive head. "Heh, Elder Bear Te, you don't get it. As the saying goes, 'home flowers lack the scent of wild ones,'" Prime Minister Fenlan Lei, seated beside him, explained.
"Still don't get it. I've seen human prostitutes—not much better than my wives," Bear Te said, puzzled. For beastmen, sex is open, a tough concept for him. Things have improved—wives are now exclusive, no sharing. Thanks to my iron-fisted policy, male chauvinism, and the understanding of women across races, we passed it in one go. A milestone for beastman women's liberation, if I say so. Bear Te's wife count rivals mine. He started with a handful, then pestered me for bedroom secrets. I tossed him a basic dual-cultivation manual, and somehow, the simpleton turned it into a wife-collecting spree, jumping from a dozen to over thirty. So much for "smart folks master skills faster"—our dear, one-track Bear Te shattered that.
"People of the empire's races, you know why we're here. In our developing empire, corrupt officials have stooped lower than beasts for profit, forcing and trafficking young girls into prostitution. Is this human? Ask yourselves—who with wives, kids, or kin could tolerate this? You wouldn't, or these scum wouldn't be caught.
I asked myself: Are we poor? No, our lives are a thousand times better than before. Hungry? Hardly—even beastmen, once scraping for meals, now have surplus grain. Driven by poverty? Nope. The empire provides a life unimaginable before—you can sit at home and eat well.
In this environment, what more do you want? Yes, human greed is endless. But as imperial citizens, you must know your duties. Your purpose isn't just a meal anymore—it's realizing your life's value with the empire's support and your effort, contributing to our nation.
The human-demon war wasn't long ago. You know the death toll. But are demons truly that savage? I say no—don't panic. Their cruelty is undeniable, excessive even. But how many have visited the demon realm or studied it? Few. I'll tell you: life there is brutal, shrouded in dark sunlight year-round. To survive, they must hone their strength for the right to live, making them stronger on average.
Look at us, with Flying Dragon Star's vast, beautiful lands, yet we slaughter and indulge. In this universe, there's no reason for the weak to enjoy life while the strong perish. The Beast Forest's creatures show it. Demons invading humans had no justification—it's nature's law: survival of the fittest. That's why they targeted us, not gods.
We must learn from this. In the vast cosmos, races stronger than gods or demons exist. If we don't boost our strength, we're doomed. The demon invasion was just a prelude. People of the empire, we live to ensure our races thrive, living happily in this beautiful universe. Today's hardships are for our descendants' better lives.
I ask you to stand with me. Some already get it. Before the empire, our government did this. Think: what dynasty ever gave free food and homes for carefree lives? None would feed freeloaders just to stir trouble.
Why do we do this? Not to win your hearts or fear rebellion. I crushed a million demons—what can't I face? I do this for our future generations, so you needn't fret over survival or toil for basics, freeing you to cultivate and grow strong. But what have you done? Are you worthy of me, of those laboring for your lives?
Indulgence is one thing, but committing acts that harm our race's survival at this critical juncture is unforgivable. Per imperial law, those proven guilty face death—effective immediately." My words hit like a stone in a still lake, rippling with blood.
The empire's races were stunned, a wake-up call. They realized their purpose, that happiness walks with death. Slacking means awaiting doom. Post-trial, all races trained hard. To support them, I mandated training grounds: small cities for martial tiers one to four, medium for one to six, large for one to eight. This ensures quick mobilization in war. Peacetime, they train militarily, achieving near-universal soldiery. The best defense is offense—staying aggressive keeps enemies at bay. With everyone practicing martial arts, they only do light mandatory labor, training, and activities, leaving little workforce for services. Full mechanization was the answer. Thankfully, our research institutes delivered, creating diverse robots. We delayed this, fearing sci-fi tropes: robots doing everything, humans weakening physically, clashing with smart machines.
But our martial culture avoids this. To prevent muscle-headedness, post-school classes teach cutting-edge knowledge, scheduled by computers with personal notifications. These measures worked, yielding expected results. Over billions of years, the empire balanced tech and martial prowess, never facing robot rebellions. Humans became godlike, and the Flying Dragon Empire was the universe's mightiest.
Cameras panned to the execution ground, showing hundreds of guilty officials. Behind them stood valiant Royal Guard warriors. For maximum impact, we used the ancient penalty of beheading. As blades fell, hundreds of heads rolled. Blood's lesson sticks. Post-execution, rape cases plummeted—women could streak naked, and none dared touch them. Over a hundred beastmen were among the executed, showing the scandal's breadth. Sugar-coated bullets tempt all sentient beings. Lesser offenders were sent to Yellow Dragon Star's military prison, based on their crimes.
Through the lens, I smelled the blood. Hundreds dead—a blow to the empire. With our small population, filling these vacant posts will take half a month of applications, reviews, and approvals. We must be meticulous to avoid another bloodbath. Our young empire can't take a second hit.
In the palace, Little Red stood behind Meilina. "Princess, should we report this to His Majesty the Demon King?" she asked. Gazing at birds outside, Meilina sighed wistfully. "You think it's necessary?"
"Your Highness, I don't follow. With so many officials dead, regions are unguarded. If we spark chaos everywhere, won't that give us a chance?" Little White said, confused.
"You're oversimplifying. If it were that easy, great. If demons attack, their internal conflicts vanish—our harm to them is undeniable. Their old, smaller army crushed us. Now, with more and better troops, what's our win rate? Zero. We might not even breach their barrier. The Huaxia Clan and Dragon Clan guard it, not to mention their advanced weapons. How many of us would make it through?" Meilina said, voice heavy. This was a headache.
At "Huaxia Clan," Little Red and Little White shivered. Their strength rivaled demon generals. How'd they train like that? Unbeknownst to them, the Huaxia Clan carries dragon genes, forming a new race. They knew because they'd seen the palace guards' daily drills. The Huaxia Clan partly stemmed from them. Witnessing their transformed, berserk energy up close was shocking. No wonder the demon capital assassination failed. Feitian's power is unfathomable.
"Princess, are we out of moves? Even stirring trouble would help," Little Red pressed, unwilling to quit. "You still don't get it. They're not fools. They've likely enacted martial law, with military districts prepped. Killing this trash? They're thrilled, not rioting. Don't you know Feitian's godlike status here? He could order them to slay gods, and they'd try," Meilina said.
"No hope for demons?" Little White thought darkly. "We're lucky they're not hunting us. Assassination's our only path. If we stir chaos as you suggest and get caught, the hundred thousand demons living here might face worse than death—maybe annihilation. It's not impossible. Assassination, even if it fails, pins blame on our leaders, sparing our people," Meilina said, worried.
"Miss, we just sit here? That lech will come for us," Little White said, blushing, recalling my stolen kiss, relieved Meilina and Little Red didn't notice.
"Oh? I didn't notice, but someone was moaning in her sleep, 'Tian-ge, not like that,'" Little Red teased, mimicking Little White's coy tone.
Little White's face burned. "Miss, she's bullying me!" "You two, joking at a time like this?" Meilina said, bittersweet, her thoughts drifting to me, my face etched deepest in her mind.
"Enough," Meilina snapped, stopping them. "We're in their palace—every step must be cautious. Report this to Father, let him decide. After two failed assassinations, our strength's too low for another flop."
"Nana, why aren't you joining us?" Xue'er called from outside. "Coming!" Meilina replied, fearing discovery. To the maids, she whispered, "Do as I said—carefully." She opened the door, finding my wives outside, playing with the babies. Xue'er gave Meilina's trio a thoughtful glance.
Reader's Corner: Yo, readers, Feitian's purging traitors while Meilina's plotting in the shadows! Think Xue'er's onto Meilina's demon scheme, or is she just vibing? And the executions—will they spark loyalty or rebellion? Drop your hot takes in the comments—let's dive into this imperial storm!