Surrounding the White City was a towering wall of white stone that cast a lengthy shadow near its base, drowning its surroundings in dim obscurity. Each of those stones was specially manufactured to be exactly the same, making this wall a marvel of engineering and symmetry. Still, if one were to look closely, one would be able to recognize the immense problems such a thing would bring.

The massive amount of capital and manpower needed, for one. That wall was built as a statement rather than a defensive measure. A statement of the wealth and power of the White Tiger Clan. Still, even they, in their opulence, were reluctant to splurge their hard-earned money on a simple wall. As such, they did everything in their power to cut costs that no one would see.

Which meant wages for the most part. Although the Kingdom had banned slavery a long time ago, it wouldn’t stop the White Tiger Clan from finding volunteers to build that wall. And find them, they did. It wasn’t that hard as they were situated next to the front line against the Empire. Prisoners of war were almost an inexhaustible resource.

Still, being built by prisoners instead of experienced masons made the magnificent wall nothing more than an art piece with little to no defensive value. Why should the clan care when they had a proper wall surrounding the inner city where they lived? It was all about image for the clan—branding, as they say. They couldn't be seen as some poor plebeians. Where would their prestige be?

Although no one would be stupid enough to ridicule the White Tiger Clan for their excess, some rumours were inevitable. Such as that wall being built on a foundation of bones. It was mostly true—not literally, of course. Even they wouldn't be foolish enough to do such a thing. How could a wall of that size possibly stay stable on bones?

No, not bones, just human lives. An uncountable number of lives. Enough blood to drown an ocean. Fortunately for them, it wasn't the lives of their clansmen but just about everybody else's. They would import people from all around the continent and work them to death for little to no remuneration except for the cracking of the whip.

Although most frowned at their barbarism, it made for a marketable strategy. Nobody would dare cross them after that, knowing their clans may be next on their annihilation list. It still made them many enemies whom they were more than happy to dispatch with extreme prejudice. Few were left to tell the tales of these atrocities. If no one was left to spread the news, they would take it upon themselves, but that was all in the past now.

Those were dark times, but eventually, things took a turn for the better—not really; people simply started deluding themselves into thinking so. Or, at least, the clan became better at hiding it. At one point, it was so bad that everyone took to calling the White City the Bloodstained City just to spite them. Which worked to antagonize the clan, and, as is their nature, they retaliated in kind.

The White Tiger Clan were warmongers through and through. Any slight or even the smallest rebuke would send them into a frenzy. Some theorized their mentality was influenced by the blood of the White Tiger, a creature that stood at the apex of its environment with no real rival to keep it in check. As such, it grew wild, ferocious, and somewhat playful with its food. Such traits had also been inherited by the clan.

Others believed the clan simply grew to enjoy wars because of the rewards they would gain from waging them. For generations, the clan was on the front line of the war against the Empire, and as such, the Kingdom rewarded them handsomely for their service in defending the motherland.

While it could explain some of their quirks, most people simply thought the White Tiger Clansmen were just jerks—pure and simple. Or, more precisely, sociopaths. Although most wouldn't go that far—for fear of retaliation—there was enough evidence going around to bury a small clan—which happened occasionally.

One simply had to look at the various families within the clan. You couldn’t go two days without hearing of a feud between two rival families claiming the lives of many. Mostly innocent bystanders, but sometimes even their own.

One thing the White Tiger Clan had going for them over other clans was their reproduction rate. If left to their own devices, their clan would eventually overwhelm what the country could sustain. In that aspect, the war was a welcomed sight for most other entities within the Kingdom. At least, it would help to cull these pests.

It wasn't that the White Clansmen were more fertile than most; they simply took satisfying those urges more seriously, even if they were to inconvenience their partners. Willing partners, mind you. The White Tiger Clan was quite good at persuading dissenting opinions. They weren't picky either. As long as the offspring possessed the clan's blood, that was all that mattered. As for the child-bearers... well, let's not talk about it.

Christina sighed as she laid eyes on this most horrid monument of human depravity. If not for her quest leading her here, she never would have wanted to step foot in this place. Alas, one must do what one dreads sometimes. Still, if she were successful, her discomfort would be worth it.

To the side of her carriage was a long line of commoners waiting for their turn to enter the city. Although most were merchants hoping to find an opportunity to make a fortune, others were simple villagers displaced by the recent upheaval up north, hoping to find refuge behind the city wall.

Christina's expression was grim at this sight, for she knew what fate awaited them if they were granted access. The White Tiger Clan was one of the most hard-lined clans regarding bloodline supremacy. They were so full of themselves that they believed everyone to be beneath them.

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Even more so when it came to those of common blood. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say the clan believed commoners to be beneath even cattle. At least, cattle could be used to plow the fields and slaughtered for their meat. Ever since the ban on slavery, what were commoners good for? Except for the privilege of being extorted of their money through heavy taxation.

No, those poor refugees wouldn’t find what they hoped for. That sad thought hung like a heavy weight over Christina’s heart. Now, more than ever, she was resolute in enacting changes. For their futures, if nothing else.

The line advanced slowly, no doubt owing to the guards at the gate slacking off. Occasionally, carriages would cut the line and enter the city without greeting the guards. Of course, such favouritism was rampant almost everywhere in this world, but it was even worse here.

Most carriages sported the emblem of the White Tiger Clan; you couldn't miss it, as it was an obnoxious White Tiger made of white gold, which was just a waste of money. Some may not be aware, but white gold is an alloy of gold and other metals. Doing so would make it lose its purity, yet the process was more expensive than other gold types. It was basically the same as throwing money into the sea.

Still, the clan would do anything to show off their wealth. Even the lowest clan members would bankrupt themselves just to show they weren't poor. Debts? Unless owed to the clan, why bother paying it back? No money? There were plenty of commoners around who were more than happy to provide the funds. The clan was generous enough to even let them keep their lives; they were good at recycling, after all.

Her eyes narrowed once Christina's carriage was close enough to the gate. Through the slight gap in the carriage's front window, Christina saw a sight that made her stomach churn. A family of refugees knelt on the ground, begging the guards at the gate to let them into the city, if baring that, only to give them some food so that they could feed their children. Yet, the guards only laughed at their misfortune before forcing them away through kicks and insults.

All the bystanders did nothing to prevent this. Some looked away, hoping not to get involved, while others openly jeered at their fate. Since when had her country sunk so low? Christina didn't know, but she couldn't fault them as she, too, made no effort to come to their aid.

So what if she were to help? That family might survive, but for how long? What about all the others Christina wasn’t aware of? No, even if she desperately wanted to leave her carriage and kick those guards in the groin, doing so would achieve nothing. She was the future monarch of this nation. She had to think on a grander scale.

Let's say that family survived with her offending the White Tiger Clan. Would they let it go? Were they known for their leniency? Christina had no doubts nothing would happen to her. They weren't fools, but even if, by some miracle, that family was to avoid their wrath, others wouldn't be so lucky.

So what if those strangers didn’t have anything to do with it? The White Tiger Clan could, so they would. That is what power is. Not exercising your power is to let it go to waste. Although such a thing was distasteful, Christina saw the appeal. Who wasn’t interested in power?

Although she despised their actions, Christina's methods weren't any different. Why change something that worked? No, she would simply choose her targets carefully instead of firing blindly. It wasn't abuse if you were to pummel someone who could fight back. Some called it war. Indeed, she was on a warpath, and they would soon know of her terror.

Despite Christina's gentle and graceful demeanour, she was raised as a warrior. No Queen of this Kingdom had ever been weak. Maybe it was their draconian blood, or they strongly modelled themselves after the Founding Queen. Either way, none were pushovers. If not for their firm hold over the reins of power, the Kingdom would have long fractured between the many Dukes.

Although those Dukes still abided by the Founding Pact their ancestors signed with the First Queen, those people weren't without ambition. Sooner or later, Christina would have to put them down. Maybe not in her generation, but she refused to leave this problem to her offspring. It would end during her tenure.

Christina took a deep breath and motioned for the driver to ignore the commotion and proceed forward. The line parted like a wave, allowing passage to the massive Earth Dragons. Commoners gasped at the sight, lowering their heads, unable to sustain the oppression those beasts gave off. It wasn’t that they were cowards; it was only something inflicted upon them by their own blood.

Bloodline purity was like a tower. The higher your purity, the higher your ranking on that tower. Anyone below you would be subjected to your oppression, and the greater the disparity between those floors, the greater the oppressive force. Commoners were so low on that scale that even mutated draconian mutts like Earth Dragons were enough to make them prostrate themselves.

This was the sole reason this nation's aristocratic system was unshakable. Still, being born into nobility didn't mean you would occupy a high floor from birth. It only elevated your higher limit. Many other factors were needed to climb those floors, but bloodline made it much easier.

Christina's carriage came to a halt in front of the gate, displacing many who had stood in line for hours, adding to their displeasure. Owing to the carriage's splendour, however, those people held their tongues, fearing losing it.

“Who goes there?” a guard yelled in an arrogant tone.

The driver's eyes slightly narrowed. Were they blind? Couldn't they see this expensive carriage pulled by two Earth Dragons? Evidently, since more than one guard came out of their barracks to inspect the vehicle. One even had the gall to knock on the carriage door and ask the owner to show herself. If not for the Princess's order to behave himself, the driver would have slit that man's throat without batting an eye.

“What’s the matter?” Christina asked in an indifferent tone. She couldn't be bothered to deal with these pests only because causing a commotion here would be counter-productive.

“There’s an entry fee,” one of the guards said while grinning. His smile had missing teeth, making him look even stupider than he already seemed. “Anyone who wants to enter must pay the toll.”

Were they daft? Christina didn’t see the previous carriages having to pay anything. She could have them quartered for this, yet what would that achieve except slightly relieving her of her frustration? Christina seriously considered that option.

Still, it wouldn’t do for someone of her stature to stoop so low. She had an image of grace and gentleness to protect. She would find another way to get back at them. She wouldn’t forget.

With a deep sigh, Christina tossed two gold coins out of the window and gestured for the driver to go forth. The coins landed square into the guard's face yet dealt no damage except to his pride, then fell to the ground. The guard, still stunned, watched the carriage roll away without a word. Once he returned to his senses, the carriage was already far away, so he let it go. He bent down to find his coins, but they were already gone, snatched away by another guard.

Once inside the city, Christina finally realized why the guards were so hostile. She didn’t bring her own carriage but instead borrowed one from the Count. It was his coat of arms displayed outside. This would explain many things. It seemed that not only was the White Tiger Clan dissatisfied with the Count, but it also trickled down to the bottom rung of society.

Sofia shrugged; why should she care what those bottom feeders thought of her? It couldn't besmirch her pride. Claire, on the other hand, did everything to hold herself back from slaughtering these pigs. If not for her restrain, they would be cinders by now.

Christina smiled slightly, somewhat happy that she would be so angry for her sake. Still, she soon steeled herself. Her goal was within sight.