Another month flew by. Inside the Magnificent Mansion Spell, Cerydra sat beside a small tea table, one leg crossed over the other. She lifted a teacup from the table with her left hand and took a sip, her gaze remaining fixed on the book in her right hand.
Admittedly, she used to think the wizard who invented the Magnificent Mansion Spell was slightly deranged. But now, she couldn't imagine living without this magic—it was simply too convenient!
The book in Cerydra's hand was the Northern Territory Law, which she had been drafting over the past month.
Unlike other regions where government positions were traditionally reserved for nobles, or Okhema, where high-ranking intellectuals were appointed through examinations, the Northern Territory prioritized strength above all else. Here, one's bloodline—whether Noble or commoner—mattered little. Intelligence was secondary. The ultimate determinant of power was raw strength.
Before setting out for the Northern Territory, Cerydra had considered transferring intellectuals from Okhema to manage the region once stability was established. But now, it seemed highly unlikely this plan would succeed. The fierce Barbarians would never submit to outside rule. According to Northern Territory custom, disputes were settled through duels—the victor claimed all, while the defeated lost everything.
If we truly parachuted in a management team, these people would be overwhelmed just dealing with challenges from below, leaving them no time for actual work.
Later, Dirk resolved this problem perfectly. He suggested, "Boss Imperator, if you're dissatisfied with the current management system, why not hold a fair selection process? Let the Barbarians compete fairly, and the strongest among them can be directly appointed to the positions."
"However, there's one condition for appointment: they must offer their hair to the Empire in exchange for wisdom. If everyone trades their hair for wisdom, wouldn't that solve the problem?"
In essence, the solution was simple: if capable individuals lacked intelligence, simply make them smarter.
This proposal immediately enlightened Cerydra. Glancing at Dirk's gleaming bald head, she thought, His baldness makes perfect sense now! He really has become much smarter!
With Dirk's assistance, Cerydra gradually drafted an administrative system that closely resembled Okhema's, yet retained distinct differences.
The document in Cerydra's hands now was the initial draft. She was conducting a final review, checking for any remaining loopholes or necessary revisions.
It's worth noting that Dirk was also present in the Magnificent Mansion Spell, seated near Cerydra, poring over a book. This ancient Barbarian text had been brought by Dave's Clan when they joined the empire.
The script was wildly cursive, its characters dancing like dragons and phoenixes. Deciphering it required immense patience and time, but Dirk, driven by his thirst for knowledge, had already read through several volumes.
As Dirk flipped through the pages of his current book, something suddenly caught his eye. He paused, set the book aside, and glanced up at Cerydra—or, more accurately, at her crossed legs.
A thoughtful expression crossed his face as he remarked, "Boss Imperator, I just read that the short-lived Northern Territory Empire had a custom called the Foot Kissing Ritual. It was used to express the defeated's submission to the victor. I think the book's reasoning makes sense. What do you think about including it in the new Northern Territory Law?"
(Spy- (≖_≖ ))
In the past, if a Barbarian wished to submit and pledge loyalty, they would have to kiss the Clan Leader's foot as a sign of devotion.
After all, the state of a Barbarian chieftain's feet hardly needs elaboration. If you're willing to kiss that, your loyalty must be absolute.
Upon hearing this, Cerydra, who had been reading, paused in surprise. She glanced down at her calves and high-heeled shoes, then looked back at Dirk. "Dux Aquilarius, are you serious about this?"
When the Clan Leader was a Barbarian, kissing their foot might have been a test of loyalty. But now, the ruler of the Northern Territory Empire was Cerydra herself! Performing the Foot Kissing Ritual at this point wouldn't it just be rewarding the defeated?
If this were Cerydra's previous life, it would be the epitome of "benefits spoken for, drawbacks unspoken."
I get to be Imperator's lapdog and kiss Imperator's foot? Is there really such a good deal?
Even worse, normally one would have to be defeated by Cerydra before being allowed to kiss her foot upon surrender. But what if some oddballs started surrendering voluntarily just for the Foot Kissing Ritual?
Of course, that was in her previous life. In this world, the Barbarians' fetishes weren't quite so extreme. Even kissing Cerydra's delicate feet was still considered a humiliating act of submission.
Dirk continued, "Boss Imperator, I think this is actually quite reasonable. Imagine the other Clan Leaders, after being defeated and subdued by you, kneeling before you, bowing their heads to kiss your feet. Wouldn't that greatly enhance your authority and prestige?"
However, Cerydra's lips twitched slightly. She stated plainly, "A barbaric custom. Rejected!"
The reason was simple: for the Barbarians, kissing her feet might be a test of their loyalty, but for Cerydra, it was equally a test of her own resolve.
She had no desire to have these hulking men fondling and kissing her feet one by one. The mere thought of it made her shudder.
In the end, after Cerydra made a few final adjustments, the first edition of the Northern Territory Law was officially promulgated. Since most Barbarians were illiterate, Cerydra also arranged for personnel to travel throughout the land, publicly reading and explaining the laws to the people.
-
The scene shifted to Dave, who was leisurely sitting in front of an Ice Cave, fishing as usual. But soon, a Barbarian rushed up to him in a panic, shouting, "Bad news, Boss Dave! You've been deposed!"
In short, the first article of the new law stripped all surrendered Clan Leaders of their authority. Those who wished to retain high positions would need to take a subsequent exam and serve as "Imperial High Officials" assisting the Imperator in ruling the Empire, rather than as "Clan Leaders."
The Barbarian messenger continued, "What should we do? Boss, why don't you take that so-called exam? With your strength, securing a high position shouldn't be a problem, right?"
Throughout this commotion, Dave remained remarkably calm. He even whispered, "Quiet down and speak slowly. Don't scare away my fish."
The Barbarian retorted, "As if you'd catch anything anyway..."
At this, Dave instantly sprang to his feet, slammed his fishing rod to the ground, and snarled through clenched teeth, "What do you mean I can't catch anything?! I've fished up gods before—how could I not catch a measly fish?!"
Immediately afterward came the usual excuses: "The time isn't right yet," "I'll succeed eventually," and "Just wait until I reel in a big one and blow your minds!"
The Barbarian messenger tentatively suggested, "Then... Boss, why don't you just go directly to Boss Imperator and trade for a guaranteed fish-catching ability?"
Dave paused, but after a few seconds of thought, he shook his head. "No! You don't understand! Knowing I'll catch fish every time would take all the fun out of it. Fishing is about savoring the feeling of the prey slowly taking the bait!"
The Barbarian messenger fell silent, unsure what to say.
Dave turned and settled back into his seat, picked up his fishing rod, struck a pose, and said, "As for that high-ranking official exam you mentioned, I'm not going. Back when the Clan had so many members, I had to lead everyone, working myself to the bone. But now that Lord Imperator is in charge, I don't need to worry about feeding you all anymore. What's wrong with taking a little time off to relax and fish?"
"Managing things all the time is exhausting," Dave said, stroking his hair. "Look at me now, so relaxed." He added, "Besides, becoming a high-ranking official in the Empire requires sacrificing your hair. I'm quite fond of my hair, and I don't want to end up bald, so I'll pass."
The Barbarian messenger opened his mouth several times, but couldn't find the right words.
"Lord Imperator is doing just fine," Dave continued. "You don't need to keep bothering me. Stick with her, and you won't lose out."
As he spoke, Dave suddenly felt a tug on his fishing rod. He jumped to his feet. "Aha! See? What did I tell you? What did I tell you? I've got a bite!"
But with his forceful yank, a small head slowly emerged from the water—Hysilens. Her body remained submerged, with only her nose and forehead visible above the surface. She tilted her head slightly, gazing at Dave with a look of utter astonishment.
She looked exactly like one of those peeking over the border emoji stickers from group chats—utterly adorable.
Dave wore a look of utter exasperation. "No, for God's sake, could you stop messing with me? I almost thought I'd actually caught a fish!"
Hysilens apologized, "Sorry, it might just be a fish's instinct? I see a hook and I just have to tug at it."
"What kind of fish has that kind of instinct?!" Dave retorted. "If they did, how come I've never caught a single fish in my life?!"
Hysilens explained with unwavering seriousness, "It's true! If there's bait on the hook, don't fish instinctively come to eat it?"
"Huh?" Dave was completely stunned, his brain short-circuiting for a few seconds. After a moment's thought, he actually found Hysilens' logic surprisingly sound. "But that's not the point!"
However, when Dave looked down, he discovered that Hysilens had already sunk back beneath the water and vanished.
Of course, Hysilens hadn't come to tease Dave. Snagging the hook was merely a side effect of her real purpose. With the recent enactment of the new Northern Territory Law, she had been swimming around underwater, secretly observing the reactions of the Clan Leaders in their usual haunts.
Some Clan Leaders expressed incomprehension, others were deeply frustrated, and still others were furious. Then there were those like Dave, who couldn't care less. Yet overall, not a single Clan Leader showed any inclination to resist.
Even those who harbored dissatisfaction merely prepared to participate in the High Official Examination, eager to showcase their skills. It had to be said, these Barbarians were surprisingly reliable.
Another half-month swiftly passed. With the implementation of the new laws and the conclusion of the High Official Examination, a remarkable scene unfolded across the Northern Territory Empire: every day, bald-headed figures could be seen strolling the streets, executing Cerydra's orders.
When ordinary Barbarians spotted a bald-headed figure approaching, they immediately recognized their formidable strength (as victors of the High Official Examination) and knew Boss Imperator had issued new directives. They complied obediently and efficiently.
Within just half a month, the once fragmented "large settlements" were gradually taking on the shape of an efficient Empire.
At this juncture, having finalized internal affairs, Cerydra reissued the expansion order, urging the search for other Clans.
-
One day, Hysilens was swimming and playing in the sea as usual when she suddenly heard something fall onto the ice above. Melting a hole in the ice, she cautiously poked her head out and saw a bald man lying on the ground.
The man looked extremely thin and frail, standing only about 1.7 meters tall—a veritable dwarf by Northern Territory standards. He wore only a loose-fitting white robe and brown pants, with no shoes on his feet.
Clearly not native to the Northern Territory, and certainly not a Barbarian, Hysilens leaped out of the water and approached the man. She checked his breath—still alive, though barely.
A lost outsider? she mused inwardly. No, judging by his attire, he looks more like someone exiled here. Hysilens hesitated, wondering whether she should help him.
Just then, the bald man slowly struggled to his feet. He turned in Hysilens's direction, pressed his palms together in a prayer-like gesture, and bowed slightly. In a raspy voice, he pleaded, "A fortunate stroke amidst misfortune. Kind benefactor, could you spare some food? I haven't eaten in seven days..."
It was only then that Hysilens realized the man had distinctly East Asian features. Before this moment, whether in the Dragon Ember Empire, the All Nations Alliance, or even Okhema, all humans she had encountered resembled the Westerners from her previous life, characterized by high nose bridges and deep-set eyes.
Hysilens suddenly recalled a country she had yet to visit and blurted out, "Are you from the Eastern Ancient Kingdom?"
The man nodded slightly. "Indeed, I am."
This was becoming quite extraordinary. Hysilens examined his attire again—he was dressed so sparsely, without even shoes. When she looked into his eyes, she noticed they were terribly clouded, lacking any glint of light. This man was blind!
"How did you get here?" Hysilens asked.
After all, they were currently in the heart of the Northern Territory, separated from the Eastern Ancient Kingdom by at least half of the Northern Territory, the entire All Nations Alliance, and a vast, treacherous mountain range.
Yet the man replied calmly, "Naturally, I walked here, step by step, with these legs."