At this mont, the Fourth Prince Rhine finally gently closed the dossier.
This is the signal; it’s his turn to act.
Inspector General i Si almost imdiately stood up: "The reason for everyone’s debate is simply because the Emperor is missing, and the imperial power is suspended."
He then threw out a statent potent enough to ignite the whole room: "I propose to restore the Electoral Prince system, where the Eight Great Clans jointly elect an Imperial Guardian."
i Si’s voice was steady, yet it seed to make the air in the Imperial Hall freeze instantly.
i Si’s gaze swept across every noble representative and Prince in the hall, his tone unchanged: "This system once maintained the balance of power during the most perilous tis of the Empire.
And so today, with the Emperor not returned and the Regent King weakened, we can establish a guardian elected by the Eight Clans to temporarily exercise imperial power, stabilize the states, coordinate various regions, and ensure the Empire is not fragnted."
The pace of speech was not fast, yet it struck like a hamr on the heart of everyone present.
On the surface, this speech looked very gentle, as if suggesting a rational middle-ground plan.
But everyone in the Imperial Hall understood.
This isn’t a temporary substitute for imperial power but a legal alternative established in advance for the Emperor’s absence.
It’s not diating factions but pulling the Eight Great Clans back to the core of imperial power.
It’s not a temporary expedient but a reboot of the system.
This is an extrely offensive matter, but the reason i Si dared to stand up at this mont was not due to his position but because he already held enough chips.
Before the eting, Rhine offered him benefits that were difficult to refuse: independent scrutiny rights of the Inspector General for Empire officials, primary adjudication rights on the provincial autonomy proposal, and a confidential fund allocated from secondary fiscal accounts.
But these are just surface chips; what truly made him nod was another portion of promised future belonging to his family that Rhine whispered.
i Si, now nearing the twilight of his years, had been unable to endure long travels and prolonged affairs for several years; he understood more than anyone present that he couldn’t last for many more years.
His pursuit was no longer for the position itself, but for a security that could prevent his family from being swallowed in the next round of power reshuffle in the Imperial Capital.
Rhine offered him this, promising to preserve the nobility title of the i Si family in future restructurings and allow his descendants into the core of the Inspector General.
In the possible future restructuring of the civil servant system in the Empire, reserving two inheritable positions for the i Si family.
These carefully crafted promises wouldn’t alert any factions, yet were enough to ensure a family could still stand on the Imperial Capital’s steps after the chaos.
For a man nearing twilight, this was his last legacy he could leave behind.
It was precisely because of this that he was willing to propose a motion at this mont capable of shaking the Empire’s foundations.
The air in the hall was completely frozen, and every pair of eyes was waiting.
Not waiting for i Si to say more, but waiting for others to express their positions.
The first sounds ca from nobles leaning closer, whispering tentative exchanges.
Their voices were not frantic but were the skilled techniques nobles used when facing enormous changes.
They were not arguing but swiftly assessing risks:
"Restoring the old system... ans we’ll be constrained by the Eight Great Clans again?"
"If imperial power is pushed by the Eight Clans, how much voice do we provinces have left?"
"Is this a plot the Eight Clans had set up in advance?"
They weren’t afraid of the redistribution of imperial power; they were afraid once the old system is restored, the hard-earned autonomy space of the local provinces over nearly a hundred years would be swiftly swallowed.
The negotiating power of erging territories would be pressed to a minimum, and all power balances would tilt back towards the Eight Great Clans.
This fear is a clear judgnt of future interests.
The silence of the Eight Great Clans was not hesitation but the most typical "watchful suppression" of power tiers.
Any statent from them would be interpreted as a declaration of interests by other clans.
Thus, they must be steady and cautious, indicating their stance with the smallest gestures.
Eleanor maintained an ambiguous smile, neither supporting nor opposing, keeping herself within the safe boundaries of all choices.
Raymont’s representative exchanged a glance with Simmons’ representative, signaling "interest."
Diaz’s representative and Kadari’s representative remained silent, maintaining a diplomatic posture.
Holden’s representative and Beres’s representative furrowed their brows, with the old nobility instinctively resisting institutional rewriting.
As for the Edmund Family’s representative, he was dozing off; the old man hadn’t received any instructions from Louis and couldn’t make a statent.
Their silence itself was the heaviest pressure of the Imperial Capital.
As these silent attitudes continued to pile up, they were enough to cause the entire balance of the Imperial Hall to begin to tilt.
The tension in the air wasn’t emotion but the sound of the interest structure starting to fracture.
Just as this pressure extended to the end of the noble seats, soone finally couldn’t resist testing the boundaries.
The Western Territory representative stood up, still polite in tone but precisely pushed the issue to its core: "Lord i Si, does this an the major provinces will once again be controlled by the Eight Great Clans?"
This wasn’t anger but a border test, confirming whether the Eight Clans would use the old system to make a coback.
Then the third corps commander added fuel: "If the old system is resurrected, will the military expenses and grain taxes of the local provinces still be decided by the Eight Clans?"
This was the second test, more incisive, and closer to the pain point.
These two doubts combined, truly started to tilt the focus of the Imperial Hall.
Finally, a noble from the Western Territory couldn’t hold back, slapping the stone table: "The era of the Eight Great Clans has passed!"
This slap on the table was the true breaking point of the Imperial Hall.
Sound waves rolled open under the do, the echoes shattered into chaotic reverberations, not a roar but a shared nightmare of the entire provincial system.
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