Ren stood at the podium of the vast stadium in Ropa, Aropia's capital.

Thousands of people filled the seats, a sea of curious and skeptical faces gazing down at him. The crowd was restless, murmuring among themselves.

Though they had cheered when he fired the corrupt senators, there was still an air of uncertainty about this king—this outsider—who had taken the reins of Aropia.

Taking a deep breath, Ren raised his hand, and the stadium fell silent.

"Citizens of Aropia," he began, his voice clear and commanding. "For too long, our country has suffered at the hands of those who sought power for themselves. Greed has led us to the brink of ruin. But no longer."

A ripple of approval moved through the crowd; there were nods and murmurs of agreement. Ren continued.

"Today, I stand before you not only as your king but as your servant. It is my duty to guide Aropia to a future where all can prosper. As part of this commitment, I have dissolved the Senate of old—a Senate that failed to serve its people—and replaced it with a council chosen by you."

He raised a scroll, the names of the newly elected senators inked in bold letters.

"Five nobles and ten commoners will now take their seats. These men and women are here not because of their birthright, but because of their will to serve Aropia. They represent you. They will listen to your concerns, address your needs, and work for the good of all."

A wave of applause echoed, tentative at first, but growing stronger. Ren paused, allowing the crowd's approval to build.

"But this is only the beginning," he declared, his voice carrying an edge of determination. "We are on the verge of something greater—a transformation that will change the fate of Aropia forever. I have established a system that will harness the untapped potential of our great nation."

His eyes blazed with conviction as he continued.

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"We have in our hands a resource coveted by all: manna grass. Lots and lots of manna grass which is the source of all magic. "

Ren’s presence felt larger, his words reverberating in the stadium, carried by the eager eyes now watching him closely.

"We will use the manna grass for our own benefit! It will be an energy source to create industries, to fuel a new age of invention and progress. Our lands will no longer serve others—we will turn them into the beating heart of Aropia's future. Jobs will be created for every man and woman willing to work. No longer will you need to rely on the whims of foreign traders. We will build, we will innovate, and we will thrive."

The applause was thunderous now, cheers mixing with shouts of support.

Ren could see faces lighting up with hope—the kind that had been missing for years. He took another step forward, lowering his tone for emphasis, his eyes meeting the crowd with an intensity that was impossible to ignore.

"I do not promise an easy road, nor a quick fix. But I promise you—together, we will see Aropia rise from the ashes. Together, we will create a nation where your children and their children can be proud to live and work. This magic industrial revolution will be our dawn, our chance to forge a destiny that belongs to us alone!"

The stadium erupted. People stood, clapping, cheering, waving their arms in excitement. The skepticism in their eyes was replaced by anticipation, hope, and a belief that they were finally being heard.

Ren stood there, letting the crowd's jubilation wash over him, knowing that this was just the beginning. The seeds of change were planted, and Aropia's people were ready to fight for their future—with him leading the charge.

Ren pushed open the heavy wooden doors to his office, the echo of the crowd's cheers still ringing in his ears.

He barely had time to settle into his chair before the door swung open again. Ogren entered with quick, heavy strides, his face a mask of barely contained rage. Ren's eyes narrowed as he saw the look on Ogren’s face—this was not a friendly visit.

"We have a problem," Ogren growled, slamming a thick stack of papers onto Ren’s desk. "Our spies intercepted intelligence. Prince Crimson has refused to pay the reparations. He’s declaring war."

Ren’s jaw tightened, but he remained silent, gesturing for Ogren to continue.

"And that's not all," Ogren said, his voice laced with frustration. "He’s claiming that we are the aggressors. He’s using your decision to stop exporting manna grass as his excuse. Says we're sabotaging the international flow of magic—crippling the world economy, no less. It’s a load of rubbish!"