The Mage Lord’s Industrial Revolution #1-800
Author: 黑猫封印
Date: 2025-09-09T12:37:37+00:00

Chapter 1: The Corpses You Ordered Are Out of Stock

Deep in the night, within the gloomy manor.

Harvey rose and opened the window. An owl came flapping wildly into the room, tumbling to the ground. After a few rolls, it rapidly decayed and weathered away, leaving only a handful of ash.

Harvey brushed the ash aside and picked up the envelope hidden within. By the pale white light of his study, he began to read its contents.

“Dear Mage Harvey, regarding the batch of corpses you ordered, we regret to inform you that due to the recent frequent activity of the Church’s Judgment Army, we have encountered an unexpected stock shortage. We are terribly sorry for this situation…”

Harvey took a deep breath. A cloud of green mist erupted from his palm, crumbling the letter to dust. “Damn that Church’s Judgment Army!”

Ever since the Judgment Army had been deployed to the Evil Moon Mountain Range battlefield, the necromancers who relied on a steady supply of corpses for their experiments had been facing a shortage.

The reason was simple: corpses that had undergone the Church’s Requiem Mass could not be reanimated with resurrection spells.

The corpse herders had no desire to haul cart after cart of dead weight all the way back to St. Valen to sell.

At this thought, Harvey stood up in frustration and began to pace back and forth in his study.

Ever since the Federation of Casters passed a law forbidding necromancers from stealing or purchasing corpses for magical experiments without the consent of the deceased and their families, the situation had become difficult.

Under these circumstances, most necromancers could only purchase their expensive experimental materials from corpse collectors, the sources of which were often the unburied, unhallowed dead from battlefields.

“This is blatant academic discrimination!” Harvey couldn’t help but curse under his breath.

To think that he would face a shortage of experimental materials right after being promoted to a junior necromancer.

It wasn’t that Harvey was particularly dedicated to or obsessed with magical experiments for their own sake.

Rather, without corpses, he couldn’t convert enough living corpses to work for him. Once the production line halted, his business would plummet.

No business meant no money, and without money, how could he ever repay his exorbitant student loans?

After all, among the seven great wizarding kingdoms, only the Necromancy Academy allowed students to apply for loans to be repaid in installments after graduation.

Putting aside the fact that the Necromancy Academy truly had trouble with enrollment, it was also the only caster school that Harvey, a transmigrator with little magical talent, could have possibly been admitted to.

Necromancers, unlike elemental or arcane mages, couldn’t find employment with noble lords or magical academies for a handsome salary, becoming respected magical consultants.

They were fundamentally at odds with divine casters like church priests, although the establishment of the Federation of Casters had greatly eased the conflict between the two.

As for alchemists, without generations of family wealth and accumulated formulas, an ordinary person simply lacked the capital to walk that career path.

…

Arriving at his simple production workshop, Harvey felt a pang of heartache as he inspected the few remaining living corpses, all missing arms or legs, standing by the production line.

Using living corpses as workshop laborers to man the assembly line of his soap factory was the first start-up project Harvey had founded after graduating from the Necromancy Academy, relying on his business acumen as a transmigrator.

However, the research and development costs for this production line had been far from cheap.

Harvey, already burdened by student loans, couldn’t have afforded it on his own. Fortunately, he had joined an interest group during his time at the academy.

A few of the “mage scions” in the group, all from wealthy families, were very interested in the strange and ingenious ideas Harvey occasionally came up with.

That was why they had generously invested in his first start-up project after graduation.

But now, Harvey was beginning to regret developing this venture.

Living corpses that required neither sleep nor food were indeed the ultimate aces of the assembly line, but Harvey had overlooked a crucial point.

Whether they were living people or dead corpses, they were far less sturdy and durable than metal parts.

Not only did the living corpses gradually rot, but their sluggish response to magical commands often caused them to clash with the other equipment on the production line.

Just last week, due to their slow reactions, three able-bodied living corpses had gotten themselves mixed into the blender, adding many inappropriate ingredients to the finished soap.

Coupled with the sudden shortage of corpses, Harvey had absolutely no confidence in delivering the first batch of orders due in a month.

Perhaps buying second-hand stock from other necromancers could be a solution.

Harvey smacked his forehead, deciding to first sound out the other necromancers. In Jackdaw Town, where he currently resided, there were several colleagues who were so engrossed in their research that they never left their homes.

Returning to his study, Harvey eagerly took out a piece of parchment and began to write with a flourish.

[Greetings, Mage Anthony. Due to the recent shortage of corpses, my experiments are currently at a standstill. I was wondering if you have any spare living corpses you would be willing to part with? Missing limbs are not an issue. The price is negotiable.]

Folding the letter, Harvey snapped his fingers, using a spell to summon a messenger owl. He watched as it swallowed the letter and flew out the window with a beat of its wings.

Anthony’s mage tower was located in the valley east of Jackdaw Town. It was working hours right now, so he should receive a reply soon.

Sure enough, about an hour later, the owl returned with Anthony’s response.

Unfortunately, the contents were not as pleasant as Harvey had hoped. The other party not only coldly refused the second-hand transaction but also subtly mocked Harvey, a noble caster, for engaging in the base work of manufacturing goods for mortals, claiming it trampled on the dignity of necromancers.

Harvey burned the letter casually, muttering, “Such an old-fashioned, traditionalist mage’s mindset! All they care about is researching immortality, souls, the power of death…”

“Do they have any idea what it means to be among the people and solve their needs? Why is making products for mortals considered base work?”

“If you don’t know how to earn money and enjoy life, what’s the use of being immortal? Are you really going to live long enough to see your mage tower get demolished?”

Of course, he would never say these things to Anthony’s face. After all, Harvey was just a junior mage, while Anthony had already been a mid-rank mage for a decade.

Since transmigrating, Harvey had discovered that the casters of this magical world held a complete disdain for the enjoyments and daily necessities of ordinary people.

Most casters subsisted on bread and water to meet their most basic physiological needs, dedicating all their time to the fanatical pursuit of magical research and higher planes of existence.

Even the alchemists were reluctant to invent and create commercialized products, wholeheartedly immersing themselves in the creator-like delusion of using alchemy to grant life to inanimate objects.

After a moment of silent complaint, Harvey forced himself to cheer up and began to ponder a solution to his current predicament.

From a drawer, he took out the first draft of the graduation thesis he had written during his time at the Necromancy Academy—the one his mentor had rejected as pure fantasy.

—A Feasibility Study on Soul Transference and the Creation of Mechanical Undead

Harvey could still clearly remember the scene when his mentor, after reading the draft, had flown into a rage and thrown the entire manuscript in his face.

Indeed, experimental research on the soul was not uncommon in the magical world, but so far, there had been no substantive progress.

The truth most people believed in was…

The gods, the Creators, were real.

Souls did not arise from nothing, nor could they be casually stripped away, let alone transferred.

This was the main reason why the Alchemical Exploration Society’s Creator Project had always been considered blasphemy by the Church and a delusion by casters.

Harvey then retrieved his own experimental creation from the safe in his study and placed it solemnly on his desk.

It was a mechanical prosthetic limb produced by the Alchemical Exploration Society, a defective product that had been discarded due to a model error.

Carefully connecting the end of the mechanical limb to a blue crystal, Harvey took a deep breath and injected a small amount of magical energy into the stone.

The inside of the crystal instantly swirled with light, as if something alive were wriggling within.

A moment later, the rough metal fingers of the mechanical limb at the other end twitched as if electrocuted.

Then, as if it had come to life, the five fingers of the metal prosthesis instantly splayed open, gripping the wooden surface of the desk and slowly inching forward a short distance.

It spasmed a few more times before falling completely still.

“The soul energy of an ordinary insect is still too weak…”

Harvey gazed at the dim, lusterless blue crystal, its energy depleted, and sighed softly.

But… this was also definitive proof…

The souls of living beings really could be transferred into metal constructs…

And power them!

Chapter 2: A Necromancer’s Experiment Recruitment

In Jackdaw Town, the midday sun was so scorching that pedestrians scrambled for the shade of the eaves.

Rainer staggered down the street, letting out violent, irrepressible coughs from time to time.

He once had a respectable job as a watchmaker, before he was afflicted with this strange illness.

Six months ago, after a house call to repair a clock, Rainer had returned home in the freezing late-winter rain.

A cold and a high fever followed, then the incessant coughing and tremors began.

It made him completely incapable of calibrating and repairing clocks anymore.

For the better part of a year, he had relied on his daughter, a server at the tavern, and his son, a dockhand, to bring him food and the Frost Plague medicine distributed by the church.

Rainer knew he would never get better. A month ago, he had started to feel a prickly, itching sensation in his lungs.

A week ago, he began to cough up blood intermittently—dark red, semi-coagulated blood.

Rainer decisively sold the complete set of watch-repair tools that had been in his family for three generations. The money would help his son buy a brand-new two-wheeled pushcart, and his daughter could finally have the long, white cotton dress she had long coveted.

She can wear it to Sunday mass, Rainer imagined.

It was a pity he couldn’t save any more money for them. Everything of value had been sold, and he didn’t want to waste what was left on a burial plot for himself or on having a priest perform his last rites.

Rainer had already left a simple will in his rented shack. Now, he just wanted to find a hidden bridge underpass or alley to lie down in and quietly await death’s arrival.

Dragging his unsteady feet, he wandered aimlessly through the streets, subconsciously making his way to the town square he used to frequent.

“Magical… experiment… recruitment…”

To Rainer’s surprise, the notice posted on the town square’s bulletin board was a temporary recruitment from a Mage.

In his limited experience, those haughty casters almost never dealt with commoners. Only nobles like the lord of the town were qualified to clink glasses with them at banquets and other formal occasions.

Curious, Rainer begged a literate townsman in the square to read the recruitment notice to him.

It turned out to be from Mage Harvey, who had moved to town six months ago. He wanted to recruit a group of commoners to participate in his magical experiment. Just for showing up to the interview, one would receive five silver coins as compensation, regardless of whether they were selected.

A rush of joy surged through Rainer’s heart. He’d heard that Necromancers bought corpses for their experiments. Perhaps he could sell his own and leave a little more money for his children.

With this in mind, Rainer carefully tore the recruitment notice from the board and begged a donkey-cart driver waiting for fares near the square to take him to Harvey’s manor.

…

“Are you here for the interview?” Harvey asked calmly, looking at the sallow-faced, middle-aged man sitting in the chair. “Do you know what type of magical research I conduct?”

Rainer swallowed with difficulty, mumbling as he tried to suppress a cough, “My lord, you are a Necromancer. I am well aware.”

Harvey nodded, puzzled. “You aren’t afraid of Necromancers? You aren’t afraid of Living Corpses or skeletons?”

“No, cough, cough… My lord, there are several Necromancers living in town. Although they mostly keep to themselves… no one is really afraid. We all know those rumors aren’t true,” Rainer explained cautiously.

Indeed, since the establishment of the Federation of Casters a century ago, the grim image of mages had been greatly improved. Necromancers were no longer the cold-blooded sorcerers rumored to consort with devils and revel in slaughter.

In the eyes of the common folk, mages were no different from nobles—equally unapproachable, just more powerful and mysterious.

Thinking of this, Harvey’s tone softened slightly as he said patiently, “But you do not meet my experiment’s requirements. I’m sorry. I will still pay you the fee for the interview.”

He was looking for people who were not afraid of a Necromancer’s reputation and could operate a production line alongside Living Corpses in a workshop.

While the middle-aged man before him met the most important requirement, his body was clearly failing. He looked so sickly he seemed to be on his last breath.

“My lord, I know my body is no longer fit for work. Cough, cough. Naturally, I’m of no use to your experiment…” Rainer was not surprised by the refusal; he hadn’t come for the job anyway.

“But you are a Necromancer. Corpses must be useful to you, right?” Rainer asked, his face filled with hope.

Harvey was a little confused. “Are you a body snatcher? I won’t purchase corpses from illegal sources.”

“No, my lord. The corpse I wish to sell is… my own,” Rainer said with a bitter smile. “As you can see, I… I am dying. I just want to leave a bit more money for my children…”

After forcing out these words, Rainer began to cough violently. Despite him covering his mouth and nose tightly, Harvey could still see the dark red blood seeping through his fingers.

“Do you have the Frost Plague?” Harvey shook his head. The man’s symptoms were obvious.

High fever, coughing, chest pain, and vomiting blood.

Harvey remembered this disease clearly. In the world he came from before he transmigrated, it was called tuberculosis. The only difference was that the Frost Plague wasn’t contagious.

This was a dying man.

Harvey sighed inwardly, a touch of pity in his voice. “I am indeed in short supply of experiment materials at the moment. However, a method like this is too cruel. I don’t think your family would bear to make this decision…”

“My lord, please rest assured. I can sign a contract. My body belongs to me; no one else can decide for me,” Rainer’s ashen face flushed with a wave of excitement.

Harvey closed his eyes and thought for a moment before speaking slowly, “Alright. I have another experiment that you might be suited for… but it requires your complete and willing cooperation.”

“However, I cannot guarantee the experiment’s success rate. If it fails, you will die instantly. Compared to your current condition, it will be much less painful.”

Harvey paused, then brought up the part that concerned Rainer the most. “As for the payment, regardless of success or failure, your family will be paid ten times the amount for a corpse—fifty gold pounds…”

“I’m willing! My lord, I’m willing,” Rainer was ecstatic. A full fifty gold pounds! It was a sum that would have taken him twenty years of diligent, frugal work to save.

It would be enough for his children to buy an affordable terraced shack, with some left over for them to get started on their own lives.

…

After Rainer tremblingly pricked his finger and signed the magically binding experimental agreement with his blood, he received the enormous one-time payment as promised.

Harvey even thoughtfully summoned a Night Owl Messenger to help deliver a copy of the agreement and the payment to Rainer’s children.

Magical Contracts were a special form of binding agreement that could be retroactively investigated, primarily used to regulate partnerships between casters and ordinary people.

The Federation had a comprehensive system for reviewing them for any violations. The penalties for breaching a contract were severe for both commoners and casters alike.

Therefore, as long as a Magical Contract was signed voluntarily, there was no possibility of a commoner being forced to participate in a magical experiment. Harvey had no desire to attract that level of trouble from the Federation.

After completing the series of procedures, Harvey clapped his hands in satisfaction and gently comforted the weakened Rainer:

“It seems your body won’t permit you to return home and bid farewell to your family. You can stay here. We can begin the experiment tomorrow.”

He couldn’t let the man exert himself any further. Who knew if this poor, late-stage tuberculosis patient would even last another two days.

The soul transfer experiment had to begin as soon as possible.

Chapter 3: Experiment Successful, the Battery Man Activates!

“Lord Harvey, please, please don’t let my death be too painful…”

Harvey forced a helpless, bitter smile. This was already the third time the late-stage lung cancer patient before him had made such a plea.

No matter how he tried to explain, the various strange devices arranged in the laboratory still filled Rainer with terror.

A bizarre, humanoid shell constructed from gaunt human bones and cold metal.

A couch fitted with several leather straps, clearly meant for restraining the test subject.

And various other experimental tools related to the necromantic arts…

Even for an ordinary person with not long to live, it was still instinctive to fear such mysterious and grotesque things.

It was only normal.

Harvey carefully helped Rainer from his wheelchair, half-supporting, half-carrying him over to the couch. He fastened the restraints as gently as he could.

He could clearly feel Rainer trembling in fear, and hear the chattering of his teeth.

“Relax, I won’t be inflicting any physical harm on you during the experiment,” Harvey said, trying his best to soothe him.

“I’ll first give you a glass of Dream Blossom juice. After drinking it, you’ll fall into a deep sleep.”

A look of relief appeared on Rainer’s ashen cheeks. He murmured, “That’s wonderful. That way, even if the experiment fails, I’ll pass away peacefully in my sleep.”

Harvey nodded and brought a cup of pale yellow liquid to Rainer’s lips.

“Thank you, Lord Harvey. I mean, even if it weren’t for the experiment, thank you… for ending my suffering…” Rainer managed to pull at the corner of his mouth, then opened it to drink the potion.

Seeing him drink the calming draught and gradually grow still on the couch, Harvey let out a sigh of relief and began to busy himself with calibrating the instruments.

The Soul Extractor, powered by magical energy, was the centerpiece of his experiment.

To create this set of equipment, he had spent nearly half of the commercial investment funds given to him by his colleagues at the academy.

High-quality magic stones from the mines of the Burrowing Dwarves, a spell coordinator crafted by the High Elves.

And a mana-driven alchemical prosthetic body assembled by the Alchemical Exploration Society.

Harvey had performed this experimental procedure countless times. All sorts of insects, birds, and mammals had been used in his attempts.

Unfortunately, the extractions had either failed outright or the transfers were unsuccessful.

His best result was a successful extraction and transfer into an alchemical prosthetic, but the subject had not survived for more than twelve hours.

In Harvey’s view, the soul energy of these non-sapient creatures was too weak. Most were driven purely by animal instinct and could not withstand the delicate operations of a soul-level experiment.

Although Rainer had volunteered, Harvey was unwilling to treat him as a mere test subject like the other non-human creatures.

This was, after all, one of his own kind—a living human being.

…

After finishing the equipment calibration, Harvey took a deep breath to calm his thoughts.

Inject magical energy, activate the coordinator.

Connect the metal tube to the test subject, open the soul transfer channel.

Connect the Soul Core, activate the alchemical prosthetic’s inscription device.

Although a soul is formless and incorporeal, the gradually intensifying light of the Soul Core let Harvey know that Rainer’s soul was slowly transferring from his dying body into it.

Once the Soul Core was fully charged, Harvey summoned a Mage Hand and carefully detached it from the coordinator.

He steadily placed it into the core slot that had been prepared in the chest of the alchemical prosthetic.

The body, constructed of metal and bone, was densely engraved with countless arcane inscriptions. These were the key to allowing the transplanted soul to control the prosthetic once more.

He watched as the inscriptions on the prosthetic, beginning from the core in its chest, lit up one by one until they spread across the entire torso.

“It worked!”

Harvey clenched his fists in excitement. In all his past experiments, he had never seen so many inscriptions light up at once.

It seemed that only the soul of a sapient being possessed such immense soul energy.

Before Harvey could observe the experiment’s progress any further, the boney skull of the humanoid alchemical prosthetic, which was partially inlaid with metal, suddenly lit up with two orbs of ethereal blue light.

A grating sound of metal on bone echoed.

“Lo-Lord Harvey? What… what happened to me? Am I not dead yet?”

Harvey jumped, startled. He moved closer to observe and saw that the alchemical skull was struggling to turn its neck, as if trying to understand the situation.

“Rainer?”

“Lord Harvey, I… Was the experiment a success?” Rainer’s newly transferred soul was still somewhat dazed, his voice faltering as he spoke.

“From the looks of it, we can basically call it a success,” Harvey said, reaching out to grasp the prosthetic’s bony hand, unable to hold back his wonder.

“Rainer, for you, this might be a new lease on life.”

Rainer was visibly stunned for a moment, the blue fire in his eye sockets flickering nonstop. “I… I really… I can’t feel the pain in my lungs anymore.”

Harvey smiled and stepped forward, undoing all the restraining clasps on the alchemical prosthetic. Full of anticipation, he said to Rainer, “Now, try to raise your hand.”

Rainer nodded dazedly. The inscriptions on his chest lit up in an instant, spreading rapidly to his right arm.

He slowly raised his arm and even tentatively opened his bony hand, grasping at the empty air.

“Now try the other hand.”

“Good. Turn your head. Uh, don’t turn it a full three hundred and sixty degrees; you’ll twist your own head off.”

“Step with your left foot, raise your knee.”

“Right foot, try raising that knee as well…”

Aside from slightly poor balance, Rainer quickly adapted to his new body. Harvey grew more and more pleased, his tone becoming uncontrollably cheerful.

“Alright, now try jumping in place. Be careful to keep your balance.”

Rainer did as he was told, maneuvering the clumsy metallic prosthetic into a slight crouch before quickly leaping up.

Bang!

Something unexpected happened. After jumping and landing, Rainer was clearly unable to maintain his balance and crashed heavily onto the floor on both knees.

Most of the inscriptions that had illuminated his entire body and limbs instantly went dark, leaving only the core in his chest and his head lit.

Harvey was horrified. He rushed to turn over Rainer, who had fallen face-down and was now motionless.

The light of the Soul Core was out!

Could it be? Had the energy been depleted? Had the experiment failed?

I’ve killed a good man…

Before Harvey could even begin to grieve, the blue flames in the alchemical skull’s eye sockets relit, though they were much dimmer now.

Rainer’s faint voice drifted out, “Lord Harvey, even after falling on the ground like that, I… don’t feel any pain at all.”

“You scared me to death, Rainer. I thought you were gone.”

“How do you feel now? Besides the lack of pain, do you feel anything else?”

Rainer remained motionless, only the ethereal blue soul-fire flickering in his eye sockets.

“Lord Harvey, I feel like I can’t move. It’s like… like my whole body is completely drained.”

Harvey nodded and began to inspect Rainer’s alchemical prosthetic.

He was amazed to find that although the Soul Core had gone dark, Rainer was clearly still alive, though only the alchemical inscriptions on his chest and head remained lit.

This meant that Rainer’s soul had already left the core and fused with this body.

Realizing this, Harvey quickly took out another new magical energy core and installed it into the prosthetic’s slot.

“Ah! Lord Harvey, I can control my new body again! This is incredible!”

Rainer shakily sat up, bracing himself on the floor with his hands.

Just as he thought. As long as he replaced the core made from magic stone and supplied power to Rainer’s alchemical body, he could keep moving.

“You’re a battery man now, Rainer,” Harvey couldn’t help but joke.

“What’s a battery man?” Rainer symbolically scratched the back of his bare metal head with his bony fingers.

“Uh, it’s nothing. Get up for now. Let me finish the follow-up calibrations and checks.”

“Of course, Lord Harvey.”

Harvey quickly broke down and recorded the various data from the alchemical prosthetic to ensure the accuracy of the experiment.

Since this was the first time a human soul had been used as a test subject, he couldn’t be too careful.

As he was busy working, the magic doorbell at the entrance of the manor’s laboratory suddenly rang.

Harvey paused. A visitor at this hour? Could it be a new applicant?

Chapter 4: The Aggrieved Party Comes Calling

Harvey activated his magical energy to respond to the visitor, signaling that the master of the estate was home and to please wait a moment.

After briefly tidying up the experiment site, he left the energy-depleted Rainer to rest in the laboratory.

Then, unhurriedly, he made his way to the estate’s main gate.

“Mr. Burkov?” Harvey was a little surprised to see his guest, but he immediately understood the purpose of the visit.

It was Burkov Connard, a Mid-rank Mage from the Federation of Casters’ Inspection Agency, the man in charge of all magical affairs in Jackdaw Town.

He had not come alone. Behind him stood an ordinary clerk and two young people, a man and a woman, dressed in tattered clothes with pale faces.

Harvey smiled faintly and welcomed them into the estate, leading them to the drawing room.

“Mr. Burkov, my apologies. I’m currently living here alone and have no plans to hire servants or apprentices…”

Before he could finish, Inspector Burkov cut off his pleasantries with a stern face.

“Mage Harvey, I didn’t come here to have afternoon tea with you. Let’s get straight to the point.”

He produced a parchment scroll, unrolled it before Harvey, and gestured toward the young commoner cowering beside him.

“Two days ago, this Mr. Geoffrey came to the Branch Affairs Department and presented me with this Magical Contract, issued by you, begging me to verify its authenticity.”

“That contract was indeed issued by me. I assume you verified it at the earliest opportunity,” Harvey asked with a gentle smile, completely unbothered by the man’s attitude.

“There is no issue with the contract itself. However, I object to its contents.” Burkov then had the clerk read the contract’s terms aloud once more.

“I currently suspect you of using a high reward to lure an innocent commoner into becoming a test subject for your necromantic arts.”

“This is a serious violation of the Federation of Casters’ regulations, involving the endangerment of a commoner’s safety and interests!”

Endangering the life of a commoner was a very serious accusation for any mage.

Harvey’s polite smile vanished. “Mr. Burkov,” he said coolly, “have you perhaps overlooked the most crucial keyword in the contract?”

“Voluntary,” Harvey stressed. “Voluntary participation in a magical experiment that would not cause the subject pain.”

Burkov scoffed. “Painless necromancy? Corrosion? Poison Fog? Plague? Curses? Or perhaps Flesh Dissolution?”

After saying this, he glanced at the people beside him, giving them a slight nod.

At that moment, the young man, Geoffrey, who had been cowering beside Burkov, finally summoned the courage to jump forward and stammer out his accusation.

“You evil… Necromancer! You must… you must have used some cruel, terrifying magic to torture my father to death!”

Harvey sneered inwardly. Burkov was trying to make this commoner provoke him, hoping to use his reaction to validate the accusation.

If it were any other old-school mage, he would have likely flown into a rage on the spot and settled the matter with a magic bolt for this lower-class commoner’s disrespect toward a noble caster.

But this was clearly a trap set by Burkov, leveraging this dispute. He was just waiting for Harvey to fall into it.

As a traditional arcane caster, Burkov had always despised necromancers. He believed that the Federation’s decision to bring necromancers under its jurisdiction and grant them equal treatment was an extremely unwise move that tarnished the Federation’s orthodox standing.

With this in mind, Harvey didn’t lose his temper. He simply looked at Geoffrey and said calmly, “Mr. Geoffrey, so you were unaware that your father came to apply for my experiment because he was gravely ill and on the verge of death?”

Geoffrey froze for a moment, then shot a panicked glance at Burkov before explaining, “No, that’s not it! My father was sick before, but after taking the medicine from the church, he was almost fully recovered…”

Harvey snorted. “Is that really so? Since when can the church cure the Frost Plague with just the free potions they hand out?”

Sensing the situation was not going his way, Burkov immediately cut Harvey off.

“Regardless of whether Geoffrey’s father was gravely ill, the very act of experimenting on a living person is a violation. Don’t try to change the subject!”

“The Federation’s regulations do indeed forbid experimenting on the living,” Harvey sighed, feigning helplessness. “But the problem is, I never intended to conduct my experiment while he was alive.”

“Mr. Rainer came to me of his own volition, pleading with me to purchase his corpse after his death and to give the payment to his children as an inheritance.”

“Mr. Rainer himself passed away the very night he arrived here, due to the severity of his illness…”

Harvey looked coldly at Geoffrey. “What I didn’t anticipate was that the doubled fee I paid for Mr. Rainer’s corpse out of sympathy for him would be met with accusations and slander from his family!”

“Mr. Geoffrey, did you not tell Mr. Burkov about the fifty gold pounds you received?”

Burkov shot to his feet, pointing an accusing finger at Harvey. “That’s just your side of the story! Rainer died that very night? He probably died in your experiment!”

He paused, then commanded the clerk beside him, “Go and request a church priest to come here as soon as possible. I demand an immediate autopsy! Hmph, traces of necromancy can’t escape the church’s divine detection.”

As long as there were any traces of magic used on Rainer, he could basically convict Harvey.

As for whether it was before or after death… well, who cared?

Over half the Federation’s members held no friendly attitudes toward necromancers. Even if this was reported to the higher-ups at the Affairs Department, he would still have the absolute advantage.

About half an hour later, a priest with white hair and a beard, guided by the clerk, arrived quickly at Harvey’s estate.

No one was in the mood for further verbal sparring. They followed Harvey directly to the storage room.

Rainer’s body lay silently on a metal table, bathed in the light of an Icy Magic Stone suspended above it, which kept the body from decomposing.

“Priest Dorole, please begin the autopsy!”

The old priest nodded and walked slowly to the metal table. He had the clerk remove the deceased’s clothing to inspect the body for external injuries.

Burkov keenly observed that the deceased’s limbs and torso were intact; even the skin visible outside the clothing was unbroken.

This suggested that the magic Harvey used in his experiment was most likely poison or curse-based.

Priest Dorole meticulously examined the exterior of the deceased’s body, not even overlooking private areas such as the back of the head, fingers, soles of the feet, and groin.

He straightened up and gave Burkov a slight shake of his head.

Harvey stood to the side, watching in silence.

“Please use a divine detection spell. I suspect it was a curse-type spell,” Burkov prompted.

A soft, warm light emanated from Dorole’s palms, rapidly expanding to envelop the deceased’s body, covering it completely.

“No traces of a curse…”

“No traces of poison or plague-type magic detected…”

“Hmm? There are components of Dream Blossom juice in the body?” The priest frowned slightly, a little puzzled.

Burkov’s eyes lit up. “A new type of poison?” he asked eagerly.

Dorole retracted the holy light and flatly denied the possibility.

“The body shows no signs of having been subjected to magic or poison. As for the Dream Blossom… I will let Mage Harvey himself explain.”

Harvey spoke slowly, “You may not be familiar with alchemy, but Dream Blossom is a primary ingredient in a sleeping draught. It is completely non-toxic in itself.”

“At the time, Mr. Rainer’s Frost Plague was already extremely advanced, and he was suffering from frequent bouts of vomiting blood and severe pain.” He gestured to Rainer’s body, then turned to look at his son, Geoffrey.

“I couldn’t bear to see him die in agony, so at his request, I gave him a normal dose of Dream Blossom juice.”

“I believe Priest Dorole has also detected the severity of the Frost Plague in his body. As for whether Dream Blossom juice is a poison, the potion masters at the Federation can provide an answer.”

Priest Dorole nodded, his expression much softer than when he had first arrived. “Although I do not approve of the practices of necromancers, Mage Harvey’s act of compassion is worthy of praise. This poor sufferer of the Frost Plague… his entire internal organs were ravaged by the disease. Even the church’s divine healing arts would have been powerless, I’m afraid.”

Burkov’s eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at the priest. “Priest Dorole, are you saying that this deceased man was not subjected to any magical experimentation before his death and died a natural death from a severe illness?”

“By the Light, a Shepherd of God will never speak a lie. I am sorry, Mage Burkov.”

At that moment, Rainer’s son, Geoffrey, suddenly threw himself onto his father’s corpse and began to wail.

“Impossible! Absolutely impossible! My father wasn’t that sick! He must have been murdered! The Necromancer must compensate me for my father’s death!”

Before Burkov could stop him, Harvey spoke with a cold, stern expression. “Mr. Rainer told me himself before he died that he had left a farewell letter at home before coming here.”

“Mr. Geoffrey, since you’ve already received the contract payment, it’s impossible that you haven’t seen that letter, is it?”

Harvey turned to Burkov. “Mr. Burkov, shall we dispatch an investigator who can cast a Scene Replay Spell to investigate Rainer’s home?”

Burkov fought to suppress his rage. That damned, wretched commoner! To think he would hide such crucial information just to extort more compensation from Harvey.

But he couldn’t just execute this money-crazed vermin in front of a church priest. It was his own fault for being overconfident and involving the church in this dispute between a caster and a commoner. Now, he had gotten himself caught in his own trap.

At this thought, Burkov, feeling he was in the wrong, could only let out a cold snort and prepare to leave.

“Wait! Lord Burkov, I want to take my father’s body away! I can’t let him stay in a necromancer’s den of evil!” Geoffrey was still trying to fish for sympathy.

Burkov’s anger finally erupted. He raised his hand and slapped Geoffrey hard across the face, causing his cheek to swell up instantly and sending him tumbling to the ground.

“You stupid pig! Do you think a Federation Magical Contract is a joke?!”

Chapter 5: The Perfect Automated Production Line

Night fell on the simple, brightly lit production workshop.

Harvey watched with satisfaction as Rainer stood before a mixer, a pair of metal-inlaid bone arms meticulously stirring the saponification solution in the container.

A week had passed since the soul transfer experiment, and Rainer had adapted incredibly well to his current alchemical prosthetic body.

Perhaps due to his previous work as a watch repairman, which required fine motor skills, he handled the simple production equipment with remarkable ease.

Mixing the soap solution, blending it, letting it set, cutting it into bars, and packaging it.

He performed every step quickly and efficiently.

Compared to the previous Living Corpses—who were missing limbs and could only perform a few repetitive, dazed actions under the command of necromantic spells—he was on another level.

He was a natural-born prodigy at this kind of work.

Harvey couldn’t help but revel in a delightful fantasy: if he had a hundred soul-constructs like Rainer, why would he stop at soap? He could probably hand-assemble a small car.

For now, though, with only Rainer, it was best to focus on the soap business.

After all, the nobles of this world merely used a semi-solid, primitive soap made from sheep fat mixed with plant ash to bathe.

The common folk had it even simpler: a washbasin and a pig-bristle brush would suffice.

After Harvey had personally crafted a batch of handmade soap and distributed it to his start-up investors for trial use, a change occurred.

Even the “Mage Scions,” who typically had little interest in business, could see the vast commercial potential of this product.

The only problem now was that with Rainer single-handedly managing the soap production line, the output was still far from meeting the delivery standard.

“Rainer, that’s enough for today. Your magic stone must be almost out of energy.”

Rainer, his body half-metal and half-bone, set down his work. He politely bowed to Harvey before lowering his head to rummage through the small leather pouch at his waist.

“Ah, Lord Harvey, the magic stone is indeed depleted. It’s just that there are still some finishing touches to be done…”

A fully charged magic stone could power Rainer’s continuous activity for about two hours. This meant that to keep Rainer working twenty-four hours a day, a total of twelve magic stones would be required.

However, Harvey was currently only a Junior Necromancer. Even if he were to completely exhaust himself, he could charge at most six magic stones in a day.

Therefore, Rainer’s daily working hours were limited to twelve. The rest of the time, he could only hang on his prosthetic stand in standby mode.

“It’s a pity these Living Corpses don’t possess a human soul and thoughts like you do. Otherwise, the work would progress much faster,” Harvey said, sighing with regret as he looked at the vacant Living Corpses carrying raw materials around the workshop.

Rainer scratched his head and said timidly, “My lord, I’ve discovered that these dead—er, Living Corpses, might not be completely incapable of doing this work…”

He touched the machine that had stopped stirring, then pointed to another Living Corpse on the other side of the mixer, which was also mechanically stirring the soap solution.

“I found out yesterday. When a Living Corpse and I are touching the machine at the same time, it’s like we can communicate. It’s just that they… er, react very slowly.”

Harvey frowned at this, puzzled. “Touching the machine at the same time?”

“Yes, it’s… it’s like communicating with our minds. I tried to get it to lift the boiler with me, and it, it did it.”

“But then I tried communicating with the other Living Corpses from a distance, and they didn’t respond…”

Harvey nearly jumped. Damn it, wasn’t this basically a magical version of an AI-automated production line?

Suppressing his excitement, he immediately had Rainer demonstrate it for him again. Sure enough, he saw that the Living Corpse could perform actions according to Rainer’s requests—actions that were impossible using necromantic commands in the past.

All it took was a metal connection?

Harvey slapped his forehead and turned back to the laboratory to retrieve a coil of flexible metal tubing used in the soul transfer experiments.

Using a piercing and fastening method, he installed the tubes sequentially into the waists of Rainer and the four remaining Living Corpses, then attached the other end of each tube to a different piece of equipment.

The mixer, the cooling pool, the cutting table, and the packaging station.

“Rainer, now try to control all four of them at once. Give separate commands to the equipment they’re responsible for.”

“Yes, Lord Harvey.”

Almost in the next second, the four Living Corpses, who had been standing idly by their machines, moved in unison.

With uncanny agility, they began their respective tasks: stirring, adding ingredients, cutting, packaging…

“Now this is what I call automation!” Harvey couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Rainer, you can now be considered a qualified Necromancer!”

The kind that needed to be recharged, anyway.

Harvey figured that Rainer’s ability to control the Living Corpses through a metal connection, with even greater precision than a Necromancer’s spells, must be because his soul had fused with the alchemical prosthetic body.

A Necromancer used the Resurrection Spell to control Living Corpses, drawing on the death energy bestowed by the magical weave and the incantations within necromancy to manipulate that energy.

The alchemical prosthetic body, on the other hand, while a failed product of the Alchemical Exploration Society’s Creator project, was fundamentally researched with the goal of creating living mechanical beings.

He had no great interest in being an artificial creator. Instead, he felt that applying this technology to automated production was its true purpose.

The only thing was, he hadn’t yet been able to experiment and find out the maximum number of Living Corpses Rainer could control at once.

It seemed that no matter what, he had to find a way to acquire more experimental materials.

…

Harvey’s thoughts then turned to the farce of an accusation from a week ago. He looked at Rainer with a gentle expression and asked, “Rainer, what are your thoughts on what happened the other day?”

The soulfire in Rainer’s skeletal eye sockets flared brightly. “Geoffrey is an ill-mannered, ungrateful whelp!” he said in an angry tone.

Then, with a hint of anxiety, he asked, “Lord Harvey, you’re not thinking of terminating the contract because of this, are you? Without you, I would have died in extreme agony.”

“If you still harbor resentment toward that child, Geoffrey, you… you can inflict any punishment you wish, as long as you don’t take his life…”

Harvey chuckled reassuringly. “I’m not angry. It’s commonplace for Necromancers to face discrimination and unfair treatment.”

He paused, then said seriously, “What I mean is, now that the contract has been fulfilled and the experiment is complete, what are your plans for the future?”

Rainer was taken aback. “Huh? You paid so much money for me. I belong to you, don’t I?”

Fifty gold pounds was indeed a considerable fortune for a commoner. As long as one didn’t fall into the ruinous habits of drinking and gambling, it was enough to buy a cheap shack in town with plenty left over for several years of living expenses.

Rainer’s worldview was very simple—Harvey had not only paid for his life but had also brought him back through the experiment. Although he was trapped in a terrifying magical apparatus, being alive was better than being dead.

This mild-mannered and polite Mage who had both paid for and saved his life was, of course, worthy of his complete loyalty and gratitude.

Harvey was very pleased that Rainer harbored no dissent. He patted him on the shoulder and said, “Don’t worry. Based on the principle of equivalent exchange, I will absolutely not terminate the contract. Besides, if you were to walk out of here looking like this, I’m afraid you’d be captured and humanely destroyed by the Church within half a day.”

Seeing Rainer let out a creak of metal and bone grinding together in fright, Harvey couldn’t help but roar with laughter.

“But Rainer, since you have a chance to live again, you shouldn’t return to your old path of ignorance and poverty. From now on, you’ll study with me while you work.”

“Ahem, let’s start with learning to read…”

…

In truth, Harvey hadn’t only considered making and selling soap as a way to start a business and make money.

When he had first transmigrated, Harvey had been just as ambitious as the other transmigrators in fantasy stories.

Unfortunately, reality quickly slapped him in the face.

The Alchemical Exploration Society had developed distillation technology decades ago, applying it to brew spirits and distill alcohol.

Gunpowder, known in this world as “Dragon’s Flame,” was used on the battlefield to assist fire-based Mages, acting as a magical amplifier.

Antibiotics? Penicillin? Their effects were likely inferior to the Church’s healing miracles and the alchemical potions concocted by Alchemists.

As for cement, that foundational miracle of infrastructure, it was a useless invention with no market, given that Harvey was neither a noble lord nor did he possess his own fiefdom or castle. Even his current Manor Laboratory was rented.

It was safe to say that every path to instant wealth Harvey could imagine was thoroughly blocked by this unscientific magical world.

But he had a good attitude. If he couldn’t climb the ladder of military technology, he would pivot to civilian applications.

During his time at the academy, his handmade soap, refined white sugar, and skill at roasting lamb skewers at a stall had won him high praise, even from his instructors.

He had also tried renting a printing press and starting a small newspaper at the academy, specializing in all sorts of gossip and rumors from the magical world, which was a huge hit for a time.

However, these were all just emergency measures to earn some living expenses in the short term.

After graduating, Harvey realized that if he truly wanted to get on the path to wealth, his only choice was to manufacture mass-produced goods.

And his target had to be clear: the product’s audience must be the commoners and nobles, not Mages.

Once soap sales earned him his first pot of gold, he would consider a more ambitious goal.

After all, his countless experiences and case studies from his past life had clearly revealed one truth to him.

Why sell a product when you can build a platform? That’s where the real money is!

Chapter 6: A Bold Attempt to Link the Arcane Weave

In the dead of night, on a moonless night.

Harvey completed his daily meditation, placed the fully charged magic stones back into Rainer’s small pouch, and casually hung it on the resting, powered-down skeleton.

Every moonless night was when the death energy in the Arcane Weave was most abundant.

It was also the optimal time for a Necromancer’s meditative training.

When Harvey first began to study the fundamental theories of spellcasting, he had realized that all so-called magic in this world was, in essence, a method for casters to draw power from the formless, omnipresent Arcane Weave using specific runes or incantations and then release it.

Harvey often pictured it as the internet, with spellcasters being the countless overworked programmers of the online world.

The difference was that creating a spell was far more difficult than writing a piece of code.

But the internet in his past life had only been around for a few short decades, whereas the Arcane Weave had existed since the Age of Dragons.

The various spells created by ancient casters had been passed down through millennia, and to this day, no caster would dare claim to have learned them all.

And any caster who created a brand new spell was, without exception, granted the title of ‘Legendary’ in the world of magic.

Harvey flipped through his spellbook, which contained only a pitiful few first-circle spells—Corrosion, Acid Spray, and Poison Fog.

And a single second-circle necromancy spell—Basic Resurrection Spell.

This was befitting of his Junior Mage title. Aside from the Resurrection Spell, the other spells were of no help to his current research and commercial ventures.

They were even less useful than the zero-circle spells, often called cantrips—Summon Messenger and Mage Hand.

Fortunately, Harvey also had the hidden halo of being a Transmigrator, a cheat code worthy of any protagonist, which allowed him to make up for his lack of achievement with clever ideas.

He had managed to stumble his way through to graduation from the Necromancy Academy.

…

A flapping sound from the window interrupted Harvey’s thoughts.

The messenger owl had arrived, carrying a thick stack of letters from his academy colleague and financial backer—Ash Lambert.

“My dear Harvey, have you been well? It’s been a month since I received your last reply. Is your soap workshop proceeding smoothly?

I hear the fighting in the Evil Moon Mountain Range is growing more intense. The Church has already dispatched a large number of Inquisitors as reinforcements. All those bodies consecrated by Requiem Mass… what a terrible waste.

I’ve included a copy of the Federation’s gazette. No need to thank me. Although it’s last month’s issue, late is better than knowing nothing at all.

I am very curious if, besides focusing on soap production, you’ve had any other interesting inventions lately that you could share and discuss with me.

Your eternal friend and steadfast supporter, Ash Lambert.”

Harvey shook his head, rubbing his fingers together and turning the letter to dust.

That Ash, he didn’t seem to care one bit about his one-thousand-gold-pound investment; all he did day in and day out was inquire about Harvey’s oddball inventions.

But he had some decency, at least, knowing to send him the gazette published by the Federation of Casters.

St. Valen was one of the few kingdoms on the continent not ruled by mages. It was a traditional feudal duchy.

Jackdaw Town was located in the duchy’s border mountains, a full five-day journey from the nearest mage kingdom, Da’ers.

It was even further from Araye, the celestial domain where the Federation of Casters was located—a journey of nearly two months.

Fortunately, the mages’ messenger owls possessed a plane-shifting ability. A letter from Araye could reach Harvey in about a week at most, provided it didn’t encounter planar turbulence or lose its tracking along the way.

Of course, a spell messenger’s plane-shifting speed was severely limited when carrying heavy loads. If an item exceeded the weight limit by too much, the spell itself could fail.

Harvey opened the month-old Federation gazette and sighed to himself.

“If only there were a spell or device for receiving information instantly…”

Neither the teleportation circles, which were expensive to build and difficult to maintain, nor the communication spells, which had high requirements for a caster’s level, could meet Harvey’s needs.

“Another pile of war reports with no commercial value. The Federation’s focus has clearly shifted to the war.”

Harvey muttered to himself as he scanned the gazette.

“Research on elemental cluster casting. Hmph, those pyromaniacs are upgrading the power of their magical bombardments again.”

“The Alchemical Exploration Society protests the High Elves’ price hike on nature-aspected alchemy materials. Heh, they have the nerve to be so defiant when their raw materials are in someone else’s hands.”

“The Ministry of Magic’s deliberation on the punishment… of certain Necromancers who have been illicitly stealing corpses from graveyards.”

Just as he thought. The interruption of the corpse supply was driving his already material-starved colleagues to take desperate measures.

Mages who studied necromancy were a tiny minority within the vast population of spellcasters.

And because of the unwelcoming treatment they often received, these necromancers were scattered across remote, barren regions, making it difficult for them to unite.

The societies formed back in their Necromancy Academy days were often the only circles for magical exchange a necromancer would ever have access to in their entire life.

Harvey skimmed through the rest of the gazette; most of it was filled with research topics that held no interest for him.

“Huh? A study on enhancing the plane-shifting ability of spell messengers.” Harvey’s eyes narrowed, his attention captured.

The research report was brief, occupying only a small corner of the gazette’s back page, with only the spell matrix diagram attached.

It was clearly information that wasn’t taken seriously. After all, zero-circle spells had been studied to death, and no one paid them any mind except for apprentice casters.

But what interested Harvey was the report’s mention of connecting the spell messenger’s matrix to the Arcane Weave, leveraging the Weave’s energy to accelerate the messenger’s plane-shifting ability.

He pulled out a blank sheet of paper, summoned a Mage Hand, and used a quill to quickly sketch the spell matrix from the gazette.

“So that’s how it works. I never even thought about how a messenger could pinpoint the recipient’s location so accurately.”

Indeed, most casters’ understanding of zero-circle spells was limited to their practical use. Some weren’t even practical and were mostly used for spellcasting practice during one’s apprenticeship.

Take Mage Hand, for instance. It was just a limited-range, external projection of magical energy. High-level casters preferred the more effective Hand of Control.

But Summon Messenger was different.

The caster needed to lock onto the recipient’s positioning sigil within the Arcane Weave for the summoned messenger to accurately locate and deliver the letter.

And a positioning sigil in the Arcane Weave often represented the recipient’s actual location in the real world.

Harvey put down the pen, his eyes fixed on the completed spell matrix on the paper, and fell deep into thought.

“If I were to use a device that could automatically cast spells, paired with a positioning sigil inscribed on it, and this accelerated spell matrix…”

“Could I create a spell messenger that travels directly through the Arcane Weave, achieving instantaneous information reception?”

The idea struck him like a bolt of lightning. Harvey shot up from his desk and clattered down the stairs, rushing toward his laboratory.

…

“Lord Harvey, wh-what is this device for? I don’t know how to operate it!” Rainer, who had been pulled into the lab in the middle of his pleasant work, looked utterly baffled.

Harvey clapped his hands enthusiastically, gesturing for Rainer to sit in front of the crude, typewriter-like device.

“After I return to my study, your job is to watch this device. No matter what you receive, press the buttons on it immediately to respond to the message.”

Rainer cautiously assumed a half-squatting horse stance before the device, not daring to sit down. He had already crushed several chairs with his backside.

“My lord, b-but I can’t read!” This contraption looked just like the metal typewriters he had seen in town, its dense array of keys as twisted and foreign as tadpoles.

Harvey, holding another identical machine, said with a grin, “That’s fine. You just need to press any key. A gibberish reply is all I need.”

With that, he turned and headed back to his study without a second glance.

Rainer nodded obediently, maintaining his half-squat as he stood guard before the device, the soulfire in his skull’s eye sockets fixed forward as if frozen.

He was terrified of missing the slightest reaction and delaying his lord’s experiment.

Before long, Rainer noticed the inscriptions engraved on the device’s base begin to glow with a faint red light.

The tightly packed metal keys on the device began to move as if an invisible hand were typing on them, pressing down and springing back up in quick succession with a pleasant clacking sound.

He immediately tensed up as if facing a great enemy, raising his metallic arm over the device with great concentration, his bony fingers splayed and ready.

From the roller at the very top of the device, a phantasmal sheet of paper slowly emerged. Drawn upon it with characters was a simple smiley face.

(＾＾)…

Considering Rainer couldn’t read, Harvey felt playful and sent a greeting using an old-school emoji from his past life on the internet.

Now, all he had to do was wait for Rainer’s reply and time the information exchange.

The second hand on his pocket watch had just completed one revolution when Harvey immediately sensed an energy fluctuation from his device.

After a rapid series of clicks, a line of garbled text and symbols instantly appeared on the roller.

ah oh ee yoo eh woo vom ya mmm wei…

Chapter 7: A Dangerous Anonymous Netizen

Having confirmed the feasibility of the instant-cast version of the Spell Messenger, Harvey threw all his energy into its modification and upgrade.

Harvey sat at his desk, operating the messenger device with one hand while scribbling in his experiment log with a quill pen.

“After the messenger enters the plane of the Magic Net, the message transmission speed is dozens of times faster than previous planar travel, making reception almost instantaneous.”

“The weight of letters or items the messenger can carry remains unchanged at around 200 grams. Exceeding this limit will cause the transmission to fail.”

“Besides weight, there are no other restrictions on the type of item carried. Magic stones, scrolls, potions, metals… as long as it’s an inanimate object, it will not be rejected.”

“After the messenger enters the plane of the Magic Net, its trajectory cannot be observed… Hmm, perhaps I could try?”

Harvey put down his pen and began to consider the specific procedures for an observation experiment.

Casters could indeed use their mental energy to enter the plane of the Magic Net and perform operations like observation or roaming, but it came with certain risks.

Harvey still remembered his academy days, when the professor in charge of the basic theory course on the Magic Net would often remind the students.

After one’s mental energy entered the Magic Net, one had to either remain perfectly still or move cautiously within a small range to avoid getting lost in that plane.

However, if he followed the transmission trajectory of the Spell Messenger, moving within the Magic Net should be relatively safe.

After all, he rarely heard of Spell Messengers failing or getting lost during transmission.

At this thought, Harvey decided to attempt the experiment without hesitation.

After activating the spell matrix of the instant-cast Spell Messenger, he attached a wisp of his mental energy to it before casting the spell.

Following a slight dizzy spell, Harvey’s consciousness plunged into the plane of the Magic Net along with the messenger.

…

The Magic Net had no concept of space as it existed in the physical world. Concepts of distance like length, width, and height were non-existent in its plane.

A single small step forward for one’s mental energy could instantly traverse millions of miles of physical distance, arriving in an unknown territory.

After entering the Magic Net, Harvey temporarily used his mental energy to restrain the messenger, which was trying to bolt like an untamed horse, and cautiously observed his surroundings.

The entire plane of the Magic Net was covered in a dense network of mysterious energy conduits, like a cross between a spider’s web and a system of capillaries.

At the intersections where these conduits branched or converged, sigils, some brilliant and others dim, floated quietly, twinkling like stars in the night sky.

Harvey understood that those sigils were the mental anchor points of casters within the Magic Net.

He wouldn’t dare to approach or touch them casually. Who knew if these unknown sigils belonged to a demon from another plane or a slumbering dragon…

Controlling the Spell Messenger’s travel speed, Harvey carefully avoided those unknown sigils, proceeding cautiously into the depths of the Magic Net.

Harvey made sure to record the more unusually and bizarrely inscribed sigils he passed, thinking they might be helpful for his future research.

Until he discovered the most peculiar sigil of all.

It floated quietly before a spatial rift, emitting no light, bright or dim, and showing no fluctuation of mental energy.

In the area surrounding the rift where this sigil was located, even the dense energy conduits were far sparser, as if the Magic Net’s energy itself had been devoured in that region.

“A threefold positioning sigil?” Harvey stopped at a distance, observing with curiosity.

The sigil was composed of a hollow ring inscribed with numerous unknown runes. Inside, three dim, star-like spheres floated, not touching, but arranged in a triangular pattern.

“What a strange sigil design. But it has lost all mental energy fluctuation. Has its owner died? Then why does it still exist?”

Considering that the owner of the sigil was likely dead, Harvey grew a little bolder and slowly approached.

“Who… are you?” A grand, layered voice suddenly echoed in Harvey’s mind, stunning him so completely that his mental faculties froze on the spot.

Countless thick tentacles of mental energy, like those of an octopus or a kraken, shot out from the strange sigil in an instant, surging toward Harvey’s consciousness.

The tentacles seemed uninterested in Harvey’s mental energy within the Magic Net; instead, they followed his roaming trail, attempting to lock onto his physical location directly.

Harvey struggled to regain control and realized with utter terror that the mental tentacles extending from the sigil had already begun to pry at his own positioning sigil.

It was trying to invade his physical mind!

The moment this thought appeared, Harvey decisively severed his mental connection to the Magic Net, enduring the excruciating pain of a fractured consciousness as he ripped himself away.

Harvey tumbled from his chair to the floor, writhing and howling in agony as two streams of blood trickled from his nose.

Rainer, who had just come to ask a question with an armful of alchemical components, pushed open the door to this gruesome scene. He immediately dropped the parts and rushed to Harvey’s side.

“Potion! Rainer, get me a potion! The blue one!” Harvey clutched his head, pointing through gritted teeth at a row of glass test tubes filled with various alchemical potions on the bookshelf.

Rainer quickly fetched the potion and poured it into Harvey’s mouth.

A long while passed before Harvey began to recover from the mind-tearing pain. When Rainer helped him to the lounge chair in the study to rest, he discovered that his outer robe was soaked through with sweat.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, which was still throbbing with a dull ache, Harvey thought with lingering fear.

Who would have thought the first anonymous netizen I met while surfing the Magic Net would be so dangerous.

The owner of that sigil, it, or rather He, was trying to use a disguise to lure, trap, and devour me!

…

Celestial Domain, Magic City of Araye, headquarters of the Federation of Casters.

The Supreme Council member of the Federation, Legendary Elemental Archmage, “The Scorching Sovereign” Kemer Salas, opened his eyes, withdrawing from the Magic Net.

He rose slowly from his high-backed chair and stroked his thick, gray-white beard. A strange expression crossed his face, which made his true age impossible to discern.

“Strange. An unknown wanderer of the Magic Net.”

A few steps away, in front of his desk, a human-shaped shadow identical to Salas was sketched out of thin air and rapidly solidified.

The other “Salas” at the desk picked up a quill with a smile. After a moment’s thought, he turned to the Salas by the high-backed chair and asked.

“Quite interesting, isn’t it? Its mental energy was so weak as to be negligible, yet it could roam long distances within the Magic Net.”

Near the towering bookshelf against the wall, the voice of yet another “Salas” abruptly sounded.

“Perhaps a demon from another plane. Hmm, a new, undiscovered species?” He casually pulled a book on demonology from the shelf and began to read with rapt attention.

The Salas by the high-backed chair didn’t respond to the questions from his other two “selves.” He walked to the floor-to-ceiling window and fell into deep thought.

“Its Mental Anchor was immense and stable, as difficult to dislodge as a great rock.”

A Mental Anchor was something every high-level caster who roamed the Magic Net had to possess. Its main purpose was to prevent one from getting lost or being corrupted by unknown presences.

Its construction was both complex and simple, requiring a caster to fuse their own cognition of the physical world, their sense of self-existence, and their understanding of knowledge and faith.

In short, the more vast and profound a caster’s knowledge and the more steadfast their faith and will, the more indestructible their Mental Anchor would be.

When under mental attack from other casters or unknown beings in the Magic Net, it was even possible to use one’s own anchor to counter-invade the opponent.

When Salas had sensed the mysterious wanderer’s mental energy, he had swiftly attempted to lock onto its mental anchor point and analyze it.

But the moment he tried to pry at the other’s Mental Anchor, his own soul had screamed a danger warning of unprecedented intensity.

“Could it be one of those ancient ones… that have existed since the age of dragons?” the legendary Mage murmured to himself in doubt.

There was only one thing he could confirm.

“The master of that mental energy, it, or rather He, was trying to lure and counter-invade me through a disguise of weakness!”

Chapter 8: The Magic Net Server Installation is Complete

With the automated production line centered around Rainer, the soap order was finally completed before the end-of-month delivery date.

“Mage Harvey, although this is our first time cooperating, I believe both our sides have shown sufficient sincerity.”

The vice-president of the Dragonstone Merchant Guild, George Santos—a man with chubby cheeks and a slightly bloated figure—enthusiastically shook Harvey’s hands, showering him with compliments.

Harvey smiled reservedly, standing shoulder to shoulder with him in the open space outside the laboratory manor, watching the guild’s convoy busily load crate after crate of goods.

Vice-President George subconsciously rubbed his plump hands together and chuckled, “Mage Harvey, about that business of selling the production equipment and formula…”

Harvey waved a dismissive hand. “I’ve already dismantled and crated the equipment. You can just have your men load it onto the carts later.”

The initial agreement with the Dragonstone Merchant Guild was that Harvey would be responsible for producing the first batch, after which the production machinery and formula would be handed over to the guild for free.

Then, the guild would build a new workshop in a city more convenient for sourcing raw materials and selling the products, with Harvey receiving a ten percent stake.

Taking the two-thousand-gold-pound bank draft from George, Harvey’s eyes narrowed in satisfaction.

Jackdaw Town was remote, which not only made sourcing raw materials expensive but also made transporting the goods difficult.

For professional matters, one naturally sought professional partners, and the Dragonstone Merchant Guild was an excellent choice.

“By the way, President George, that batch of alchemical instruments and materials I ordered before—you brought them along this time, right?” Harvey’s main concern at the moment was his new project.

George chuckled. “That batch of instruments from the Alchemical Exploration Society is too heavy. The caravan had to split into two groups to transport it. The earliest they can arrive in Jackdaw Town is tomorrow.”

After speaking, he glanced around at the desolate scenery surrounding the laboratory manor and subtly curled his lip.

“Mage Harvey, I’ll be staying at the town inn tonight. After the instruments are delivered tomorrow morning, I’ll have someone bring the contract to you.”

Harvey had no intention of asking him to stay at the manor. No matter how much of a polite front one put on, the fear and disgust ordinary people felt deep down for Necromancers was unavoidable.

Only after watching George and the convoy slowly depart with the goods toward town did Rainer poke his head out and cautiously emerge from the manor.

“My lord, those machines… you’re just letting them take them?” Rainer’s voice was filled with a sense of pained reluctance. He was very fond of that cold production equipment, with its beautiful and complex metallic structures.

Harvey patted Rainer’s shoulder and comforted him with a smile. “Don’t feel bad about that junk we cobbled together, Rainer.”

“New alchemical instruments are arriving tomorrow—true high-tech products, the likes of which you’ve never seen.”

The soulfire in Rainer’s skeletal eye sockets flickered with confusion. He stammered, “High… tech?”

…

The next day, just as the sky began to lighten at dawn, a long convoy of carts appeared on the tree-lined path outside the manor.

Upon reaching the manor, the workers began to busily unload the cargo, moving crates of various sizes into the previously cleared-out workshop.

“Looks like I’ll have to work overtime to assemble the equipment myself tonight. I really can’t wait another moment.”

Harvey stood to the side, watching with sleepy eyes as the carts came and went, pressing deep wheel tracks into the garden’s muddy ground.

After signing the Magical Contract that was delivered along with the goods, the convoy foreman immediately directed the carts to leave the manor at high speed.

It was as if they believed Living Corpses would run out and devour them if they moved even a little slower.

Once everyone was gone, Rainer clattered into the workshop to help Harvey pry open the crates and inspect the brass-colored metal instruments inside.

“Whoa… just… incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Rainer marveled, his words stumbling over one another as his bony hand gently caressed the smooth surface of an instrument.

“This is high-end equipment from the Alchemical Exploration Society. We have to assemble it carefully,” Harvey said, equally enthusiastic.

With this set of equipment, Harvey would no longer have to personally charge Rainer’s magic batteries one by one every day. Instead, he could use the Alchemical Energy-Gathering Matrix to plug Rainer in and charge him directly.

More importantly, this equipment was the most crucial component of Harvey’s “Magical Internet”—the server.

Ever since improving the Spell Messenger’s ability to traverse the Magic Net, Harvey had discovered that the signal transmission distance of his custom-built “magic computers” was limited. To achieve instantaneous reception, the effective range was confined to Jackdaw Town and its immediate surroundings.

But with this Energy-Gathering Matrix, it was like having a magical version of a super-powered signal base station. All the “computers” could connect to the matrix via the Magic Net to send and receive messages, which could then be relayed over extremely long distances through this super-repeater.

In the past, this kind of Energy-Gathering Matrix was used to power continental-level teleportation arrays.

If it weren’t for the connections of his sponsor, Ashe, a “Mage Scion,” a low-level Mage like Harvey with no power or influence would never have been able to buy such a thing.

Although it was an obsolete, outdated model, its energy-gathering effect was not diminished in the slightest.

At this thought, Harvey slapped his forehead and rummaged through the mountain of crates, pulling out a unique, long-handled metal instrument.

“I almost forgot, Rainer. I also brought a set of tools for you. A new accessory.”

“Tools? My lord, my fingers are more dextrous than the most expensive repair tools. I can hold a drop of water on my fingertip without the slightest tremor.”

Although Rainer grumbled, he couldn’t help but move closer to inspect the new accessory.

“What’s this? A short, hollow spear? My lord, is this a weapon for me?”

Ever since Rainer discovered he possessed enough strength to crush a solid cobblestone to dust with a light squeeze, he had been eagerly hoping to take on the responsibility of defending the manor and serving as Harvey’s personal bodyguard.

Unfortunately, Jackdaw Town was quite safe, and common thugs and thieves wouldn’t dare to target a spellcaster, leaving Rainer feeling that his skills were going to waste.

Harvey didn’t explain. He first used Mage Hand to bring over the tool and installed the long-handled instrument as an attachment on the outside of Rainer’s right arm.

“It’s not a weapon. It’s for assembling this equipment… a weld—uh, a tool.”

Harvey paused, then decided to give it a new name that would satisfy Rainer. “It’s called… Scorching Ray!”

“An enchanted weapon? Wonderful! Thank you, my lord!” Rainer swung his arm, quickly getting used to the new accessory.

By simply activating the inscriptions on his alchemical arm, he could make the tip of the accessory release a ‘searing white flame’, which was used for welding the equipment.

Of course, if Rainer wanted to use it as a weapon, that was also possible.

It would simply consume more energy from the magic stones.

…

The two of them worked until midnight before they finally managed to assemble the complex and heavy set of alchemical instruments.

As the inscriptions Harvey had carved onto the instrument’s base slowly began to glow with a dim red light, powered by the magic stones, Harvey felt a satisfaction akin to a novice successfully assembling a desktop computer for the first time and seeing it power on.

Rainer, meanwhile, stood stunned before the enormous apparatus, speechless as he craned his neck to look up at the brass column that rose from the center of the room.

The entire instrument was five meters tall, its top nearly touching the workshop ceiling.

Even for Rainer, with his over-two-meter-tall alchemical body, he had to look up to see it all.

To buy this set of alchemical instruments, Harvey had spent a fortune. He had taken an advance on his share of the dividends from the soap factory.

A full three years’ worth of dividend profits, equivalent to fifteen thousand gold pounds!

This meant that even if the soap factory flourished under the guild’s management with booming, sustained sales, Harvey would not receive a single penny in dividends for the next three years. It was, for all intents and purposes, a money-losing deal.

And currently, besides the roughly three thousand gold pounds in investments from his early sponsors that he had yet to repay, Harvey’s remaining funds consisted only of the two thousand gold pounds from yesterday’s delivery and about three hundred gold pounds left from his initial startup capital.

Although his sponsors, led by Ashe, didn’t seem to care much about this small, casual investment, Harvey still felt immense pressure.

Let’s hope this hefty investment can recoup its costs quickly and generate a steady stream of income for me, Harvey thought to himself.

Chapter 9: Dire News Before Winter’s Arrival

In the early morning, Priest Dorole, having just finished conducting the morning prayer, walked out of the church doors.

“By the Light, Priest Dorole. Good morning.”

The old priest smiled, watching the townspeople who came to pray one after another with a benevolent gaze, nodding continuously in greeting.

Turning his head casually, he noticed a familiar figure on the street outside the church, walking slowly and about to turn the corner.

It was none other than the Necromancer, Harvey Floyd, wearing a narrow-brimmed soft hat, a loose white cotton shirt, and black formal trousers.

Beside him followed a tall figure completely shrouded in a grey robe, with a hood pulled up and its face wrapped in a mask.

The old priest frowned and was about to turn back into the church.

Another young priest beside him also saw the scene, scoffed, and turned his head to speak to Dorole.

“Heh, even Necromancers can swagger down the street in broad daylight now.”

He pointed a finger at the grey-robed figure next to Harvey, adding indignantly.

“And he dares to bring a corpse puppet with him… Truly…”

“That’s no ordinary corpse puppet. When have you ever seen a corpse puppet over two meters tall?” Dorole said in a low voice. “I’m afraid that’s a sutured corpse monstrosity.”

The young priest was taken aback. He stared at the two figures disappearing around the corner and snorted coldly.

“What blasphemy!”

…

Just after they turned the corner, Rainer couldn’t help but clutch the hem of his robe, lowering his head secretively to speak to Harvey.

“My lord, how did I do? Those priests didn’t react at all.”

Harvey loosened the collar of his shirt and chuckled softly. “They most likely took you for a corpse puppet. After all, it’s unlikely a living person would be accompanying a Necromancer.”

He paused, then added, “But you still need to be careful. Don’t speak in front of people, and don’t let anyone discover you possess sentience like a living person.”

Rainer followed with a quiet, rasping laugh. “Understood, my lord. When people are around, I’ll be quieter than the dead.”

“The dead aren’t always quiet…”

The two took advantage of the sparse foot traffic in the early morning, talking and laughing in low voices as they walked to a two-story, street-facing building made of grey bricks.

A large metal sign hung above the door of the building.

Federation of Casters, Jackdaw Town Branch.

Having lived in Jackdaw Town for over half a year, Harvey had only come into town twice, and both times were to handle business at the Federation’s branch.

The first time was for the necessary registration procedures when he had just moved in. Due to his sensitive identity as a Necromancer, the staff gave him a hard time and delayed the process considerably.

The next time, he wanted to purchase some discounted experimental materials and magic books through the Federation’s channels, only to be told that only Mid-rank casters and above were entitled to this privilege.

As for today, on one hand, the sale of magic stones was monopolized by the Federation, so this was the only channel to buy them.

On the other hand, he was also bringing Rainer out for a walk, to let him interact with the outside world and maintain his humanity to stabilize his soul.

In any case, even if he couldn’t buy cheap, high-quality magic stones, he could still get a batch from Araye through his connection with Ashe.

As soon as he entered the small branch building, a young clerk in a simple black robe proactively approached him with a welcoming smile.

“Sir Mage, please present your identification before entering the branch.”

Harvey took a button-sized silver insignia from his shirt pocket, engraved with the skull symbol that signified his status as a Necromancer.

The clerk glanced at it, and the corner of his formulaic smile twitched. He then swept a scrutinizing gaze over Rainer, who was standing beside Harvey.

“A Necromancer’s puppet is not permitted inside the branch.” The moment the clerk finished speaking, he turned and left briskly.

Harvey shook his head, unfazed. He gave Rainer a look, indicating for him to wait at the door, then walked towards the counter in the main hall.

“Hello, I’d like to purchase a batch of magic stones.” Harvey took out a blank bank draft and also presented his identity insignia.

Thankfully, this world already had financial institutions like banks, saving Harvey the trouble of carrying heavy bags of gold and silver coins for every large transaction.

The clerk at the front desk was a middle-aged man with a slightly balding head. He wore the Federation’s insignia on his chest and a standard-issue, pure black magic robe of the Federation, with a silver circle embroidered on the cuff, indicating the rank of a Junior Mage.

He looked up from a pile of documents, smoothly combing a sparse lock of hair from the side of his ear back over the top of his head, as if it could provide perfect coverage.

“Magic stones? Elemental stones or power stones?” the balding man asked coldly.

“Power stones, preferably of mid-rank quality.” Harvey pushed his identity insignia, which was on the counter, further forward and replied with a smile.

The balding man glanced at it, then passed the insignia back to Harvey without any reaction, his tone still icy.

“The branch has ten in stock. Mid-rank quality, fifty gold pounds each. No discount for Junior Mages.”

Harvey was taken aback for a moment but quickly recovered. He took his book of bank drafts, scribbled down the payment amount, and then stamped it with his insignia to sign it.

The balding man took the draft, said a faint “One moment,” and turned to leave the counter to retrieve the items.

Leaning against the counter, Harvey looked around the main hall of the branch. Only then did he realize the entire first floor was empty. Not only was there just one person to greet him at the door, but the only clerk at the counter was the balding mage from just now.

“What’s going on? Could the Jackdaw Town branch have some kind of urgent mission?” Harvey muttered to himself in confusion.

As far as he knew, fewer than ten casters resided permanently in Jackdaw Town, and the Federation branch had only six staff members, including the Mid-rank Mage Burke, who had conducted his home inspection.

Moreover, these six Federation employees were all non-combat types, research-oriented casters who were highly unlikely to be assigned missions.

Just as Harvey was puzzling over this, the sound of footsteps echoed from the second-floor wooden staircase.

“Mr. Burke,” Harvey greeted with a smile, holding no grudge.

Burke’s steps faltered. He instinctively started to turn and respond, then abruptly realized it was Harvey calling out to him. He awkwardly and quickly turned his head away, grabbed his leather suitcase, and hurried off without a word.

“Strange, where is he off to in such a rush?” Harvey mumbled, but the returning balding mage overheard him.

“Burke is going to Grizzly Keep. He’s in the first group of casters responsible for leading the evacuation,” the balding man said, his tone still flat, as he handed a small box to Harvey.

Harvey took the box and opened it. Inside, ten crystalline blue magic stones of mid-rank quality were neatly arranged in compartments.

“Evacuation? The Federation is closing the Jackdaw Town branch?”

“Of course not. I’m talking about the evacuation of all Jackdaw Town residents this winter…”

Harvey nodded, preparing to exchange a few more pleasantries with the balding man before leaving, when he suddenly felt something was wrong.

He shot his head up and asked in a strained voice, “Excuse me, did you just say that all the residents of Jackdaw Town are to be evacuated this winter?”

The balding man shrugged, a hint of helplessness in his gesture. “There’s no other way. The fighting in the Evil Moon Mountain Range is intense, and most of the battle mages have been sent to the front lines. Jackdaw Town doesn’t have enough manpower this year to defend against the vile orcs that cross the border to plunder every winter.”

Seeming to feel he had said too much, he pointed to a newspaper rack on one side of the hall.

“The public notice was posted half a year ago. Everyone is to return to town after winter ends.”

Harvey walked quickly to the notice board next to the newspaper rack. A quick scan revealed that, sure enough, the evacuation notice had been posted half a year ago, right when he had first moved to town.

He figured the town’s notice boards, the mayor’s office, and the town watch would have already widely announced it to all the townspeople.

“Am I the only one who didn’t know?” Harvey covered his face in frustration, but he had no reason to complain. After all, he had been a recluse since moving here, with almost no contact with the outside world.

Rainer probably knew, but he likely assumed Harvey also knew, which resulted in Harvey being the only one left in the dark.

Harvey’s biggest worry now was, if he evacuated with the rest of Jackdaw Town…

…what would happen to the arcane energy server he had spent a fortune on and had only just finished building?

If the vile orcs got into town, they wouldn’t even spare the iron chamber pot under a stablehand’s bed.

They had always been in desperate need of metal for making weapons.

Chapter 10: The Plan for Animated Weapons

“My lord, we could also evacuate with the townspeople. Winter is still nearly a month away.”

Rainer walked over to the massive alchemical instrument Harvey had named ‘Unit Zero,’ skillfully pulling over a flexible metal hose and inserting it into the arcane energy port on his hip.

He had now learned to comfort Harvey in return.

Harvey shook his head with a wry smile, staring silently at the ‘Unit Zero’ server.

The instrument could indeed be disassembled and moved, given some time, but the problem lay with the inscriptions on its base.

Inscribing the kind of magical runes that could automatically draw energy from the Magic Net required a precious casting material: liquid mithril.

A single crystal test tube containing about 50 milliliters of liquid mithril was worth as much as eight hundred gold pounds.

Plus, the other equally expensive auxiliary materials were also non-reusable consumables.

Once the instrument was disassembled, the inscriptions would have to be redrawn, and he no longer had the funds to rebuild the server.

“We’re staying in Jackdaw Town and finding a way to defend against the vile orcs.” Harvey looked at Rainer and made his decision through gritted teeth.

Rainer was silent for a moment before speaking in a low voice.

“My lord, you’ve only been here for a little over half a year. You haven’t seen those vile, cruel creatures. They’re vile orcs!”

“When I was young, I witnessed a squad of vile orcs invade a village outside of town during the dead of winter.”

Rainer was lost in a distant memory, his tone filled with a trace of sorrow.

“They burned every house in the village to the ground and slaughtered all the villagers and livestock. Even the fish in the ponds were scooped out, their tender bellies gnawed off, and the rest carelessly discarded on the ground.”

“They looted every piece of metal that could be melted down, not even sparing the bolts on the doors…”

Harvey was a bit surprised. “You’ve fought in a battle to exterminate vile orcs?”

Rainer let out a few raspy laughs, his mood seeming to sink. “Of course not, my lord. Back then, I was just in charge of pushing a cart, delivering lamp oil to help the battle mages burn the bodies of the vile orcs and the innocent civilians.”

“Besides the resident battle mages in town, there were also mages who came from Grizzly Keep as reinforcements. More than a dozen of them in total.”

Harvey listened calmly to Rainer’s somewhat hazy recollections, interrupting from time to time to ask for specific details.

Vile orcs usually moved in tribal units. A small squad consisted of about three to five hundred vile orcs.

According to Rainer’s description, besides warriors in crude armor, the squad also included priests who wielded wooden staves and released poisonous fog—clearly spellcasters.

The Federation spellcasters responsible for resisting and exterminating them, on the other hand, usually worked in groups of three to five and had no trouble fighting over thirty vile orcs at a time.

After all, the vile orcs, in their primitive tribal state, still relied mainly on chanting to cast spells, whereas human combat spellcasters had long since mastered instant-casting—an overwhelmingly superior method of magical attack.

But the problem now was that this winter, Jackdaw Town would not have a single battle mage on guard.

And no one dared to bet on whether the vile orcs would cross the treacherous and steep Raven Ridge to raid the town.

So, evacuating was the best option. At worst, they could just return and rebuild after the winter passed.

In other words, if Harvey chose to stay behind, he and Rainer would likely face a vile orc squad of at least three hundred.

And it might even include spellcasters.

Although he wasn’t a battle mage, a Necromancer’s unique ability to summon minions would ensure Harvey wouldn’t be completely helpless when facing up to three spellcasters of the same level.

Unfortunately, he had no “stock” on hand and couldn’t summon a single Living Corpse.

The few incomplete Living Corpses he had given Rainer to control had been put through over a month of high-intensity strain and had long since rotted and broken down beyond recognition.

Harvey had soaked them in alchemical acid, reducing them to bare bones, which he stored as spare materials.

As for skeleton soldiers, Harvey had the spell in his repertoire. He hadn’t learned it yet, but as a first-circle spell, one level lower than the Resurrection Spell, it wouldn’t be difficult to master.

But a skeleton’s structure was too fragile. It might be enough to scare commoners, but against a vile orc, a single swing of an axe would probably turn it into soup bones.

Watching Rainer standing silently by the server, “recharging,” Harvey felt that the breakthrough had to be found in soul transfer technology.

Of course, it was impossible to find more dying people in the same situation as Rainer and repeat the human soul transfer experiment several times over.

But with beasts of low intelligence, it might be highly feasible.

After all, following the success of Rainer’s transfer, Harvey had already identified the reasons for his previous failures and understood the key to success.

As long as a sufficiently powerful supply of Magic Net energy was provided during the transfer, the success rate could be greatly increased.

In the past, he had always experimented on insects and poultry using low-level magic stones, which resulted in insufficient soul energy and Magic Net energy for the subjects. That was the main reason for failure.

Now, with the ‘Unit Zero’ server, the strength of the Magic Net energy was no longer a concern.

If he captured some large mammals, like the grey wolves and black bears that were numerous on Raven Ridge, he might actually be able to assemble a squad of alchemical beasts to resist the vile orc attack.

The more Harvey thought about it, the more feasible it seemed. He quickly shook the drowsy Rainer awake.

“Rainer, wake up. We need to take a trip into the woods.”

Rainer slowly came to. Since his transformation into an alchemical lifeform, he had lost the basic human senses of taste, smell, and temperature.

But every recharge session was as warm and comfortable as soaking in a hot spring, an indulgence he found himself hopelessly addicted to.

“My lord, just let me charge for a little longer…”

…

Before nightfall, Harvey and Rainer returned to the manor laboratory.

On Rainer’s broad shoulders were a pair of grey wolves, one on each side. Dragging behind him on a chain was a door plank, upon which was strapped a massive black bear with its limbs broken.

“Will this really work, my lord?” Dropping the prey on the ground with a thud, Rainer still felt a little uncertain.

“We’ll know once we try,” Harvey said, full of confidence.

The two worked for a good while before they managed to strap a grey wolf to the experiment table, connecting it to the alchemical instruments and the arcane energy apparatus.

Rainer had knocked them out with a single punch each, so they had to wait for the wolves to slowly regain consciousness before they could begin the transfer experiment.

Once the grey wolf awoke and began to whimper and wail, Harvey activated the soul transfer device without hesitation.

Vast amounts of magical energy from ‘Unit Zero’ were injected, and the spell coordinator began to hum as it spun at high speed.

A modified, thick metal tube connected to a metal cap on the grey wolf’s head, instantly opening the soul transfer pathway.

Connect to the Soul Core, activate the alchemical body’s inscription device…

Several minutes later, Harvey shut down the instrument and walked with Rainer over to observe the temporarily assembled transfer vessel.

Harvey had drawn the blueprints for this vessel, and Rainer had quickly welded and assembled it using leftover alchemical metals and materials.

It resembled a giant spider, its entire body encased in a metal shell. The spider’s torso was covered in sharp barbs, and its chelicerae held a set of sharp, interlocking fangs. Eight thick, curved insect-like legs were planted on the ground, engraved with inscriptions to ensure the flow of energy.

At that moment, every one of these inscriptions lit up, which meant the soul transfer experiment had not failed.

The metal spider’s body trembled slightly, and then its eight legs began to scrabble wildly as it started to struggle violently.

“Calm it down, Rainer,” Harvey ordered.

Rainer took a cable and connected himself to the spider through a pre-installed port.

“Tsk, it’s full of chaotic, fearful thoughts. Not peaceful and quiet like a Living Corpse,” Rainer commented on the new alchemical creation.

The metal spider’s struggles grew weaker until it finally fell still. Only the glowing inscriptions showed that its energy had not yet dissipated.

“How is it different from the methods needed to control a Living Corpse?” Harvey asked curiously.

Rainer was silent for a moment, seemingly unsure how to describe it.

“It’s, it’s like… like calming a little puppy, my lord.”

Harvey nodded. That seemed about right. After all, a grey wolf was, in essence, a canine.

Chapter 11: The Magic Net Casters Forum

Celestial Domain, Magic City of Araye, Alchemical Exploration Society Headquarters.

Life Transmutation—Laboratory Number Seven.

Chief Alchemist Aufre Quinn rose from the experiment table, casually removing the protective mask from his face. He pinched the bridge of his nose, a look of exhaustion apon it.

To distract himself from the frustration of a failed experiment, he turned and walked to his desk, intending to soothe his mood by reading a few letters or bulletins.

“Aufre? You’re still in the lab? How many days has it been?”

A middle-aged man in a simple alchemist’s tunic pushed the door open and walked right in. Seeing Aufre standing in the room, his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

The two men looked nearly identical, both in their forties, with slightly curly, messy short hair, large bags under their eyes, and heavy dark circles.

“Ed, could you at least knock first?” Aufre shot his reckless twin brother a weary glare and turned back to shuffle through his letters.

Ed paid no mind to his brother’s complaint. He walked over to the experiment table, sat down, and put on the mask Aufre had just taken off.

“Hiss… the death energy is clearly so dense… why…”

“Because an inanimate alchemical object can’t hold that energy for long.” Aufre’s attention wasn’t on the letters at all.

The two brothers were about to reconvene at the experiment table to continue their in-depth discussion on the failed experiment.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Come in!” Aside from Ed, no one dared to enter the chief’s office without knocking.

“Chief, you have a parcel, sent from the Clock Tower Lane Post Office.” An apprentice entered with his head lowered, respectfully placing a small, box-like package on the desk.

“The post office?” Aufre was puzzled. Why not use the faster griffin post?

“Maybe the package is too heavy, and those griffins charge way too much for cargo,” Ed said, looking up and wiggling his eyebrows teasingly. “Your students are generally not too well-off.”

Aufre was a professor at the Araye Alchemical Academy and was highly respected by his students. Students from out of town often sent him gifts or their own alchemical inventions.

The Chief Alchemist shook his head with a wry smile and was about to ask the apprentice, who had not yet left, to take the unopened package to the storage room.

“Wait, let’s open it. It’ll be a good change of pace.” Ed quickly held the package down and tore it open.

“Huh? What’s this newfangled thing?”

Both men gasped in surprise, leaning in to examine the delicate, brass-colored instrument inside the box.

“A typewriter? Is this the kind commoners use?”

“No, a typewriter doesn’t have this crystal plate.” Ed carefully lifted the device out and placed it securely on the desk.

“Look, there’s a slot on the side. Judging by the shape, it must be for a magic stone. This is an alchemical instrument.”

“Right, there are spell inscriptions on the base, but… are these the inscriptions for a Spell Messenger? Parts of them look similar.”

“Let’s activate it with a magic stone and see what this thing does. It’s so exquisitely made!” Ed exclaimed, looking as if he couldn’t bear to part with it.

Aufre opened a drawer, took out a sparkling, emerald-green, high-grade charged magic stone, and gently inserted it into the slot on the side of the typewriter.

With a click, the inscriptions on the instrument’s base lit up.

The spot where white paper would normally go on the typewriter’s platen was replaced by a translucent crystal plate, inserted vertically above the roller.

Ed and Aufre stared, dumbfounded, as flowing, mercury-like tadpoles slowly appeared on the crystal plate, eventually forming several lines of text.

“Greetings, Caster. Your receipt of this device means you have received my invitation.”

“This message transmitter, named the ‘Magic Brain,’ allows you to engage in synchronous exchange of information and knowledge with other casters who also possess one.”

“I hereby invite you to join the Magic Net Casters Forum.”

“The first forum meeting will begin promptly at 9 p.m. on the 15th of this month. The exchange will be anonymous, so you may first choose a suitable handle for yourself.”

“Forum Founder, Administrator Turing.”

Ed’s eyes widened. “How is that possible?” he whispered in disbelief. “Synchronous messaging? A multi-person exchange? Did he compress a continental-level teleportation array into this typewriter?”

Aufre shook his head. “Impossible. Scribing a teleportation array requires at least five intermediate or higher Arcane Casters working in tandem.”

He paused, then murmured with a hint of anticipation, “Perhaps it’s a genius Alchemist who improved upon the teleportation array. See? The base has the spell matrix for a Spell Messenger, even if it’s not a perfect match.”

“But teleportation arrays are one-way,” Ed muttered.

He suddenly grew excited, hugging the typewriter and urging Aufre, “Take it apart! Let’s take it apart and look at its internal structure, the matrix patterns inside!”

“What’s your hurry? The forum meeting it mentioned is tomorrow night,” Aufre said thoughtfully.

“If it really works, perhaps we can find a breakthrough for our current research at the meeting…”

Aufre looked at the last line of text on the crystal plate and raised his hand to type his handle on the typewriter’s keys.

“Man in the Mirror.”

…

Mage Kingdom, Da’ers.

A tall and magnificent Mage Tower.

A middle-aged man with short, deep-red hair, dressed in a luxurious black and gold mage robe, sat at his desk, roaring in fury at the typewriter before him.

“We are sorry, the handle you have entered is already in use.”

“Why? Why can’t I use the handle ‘The Scorching Sovereign’?” After cursing a few times, he seemed to remember something. He glanced around suspiciously before muttering under his breath.

“Don’t tell me my teacher’s legendary title can’t be used by others? I was planning to ride on his coattails a bit in the forum…”

“Fine, fine, I’ll change it to ‘Flame Sovereign’ then.” The red-haired, middle-aged mage raised his hand again and began to peck at the keys with his middle finger, entirely unpracticed.

“We are sorry, the handle you have entered is already in use.” The silvery text reappeared on the crystal plate, exactly as before.

“Piece of shit instrument!” the red-haired mage seethed, raising a fist cloaked in scorching flames toward the device, only to stop himself before striking.

“Son of Flame! I’ll be the ‘Son of Flame,’ is that good enough for you?!”

“Congratulations, your handle has been successfully registered!”

“Shit!”

…

Back in his laboratory, Harvey watched the text blinking onto the crystal screen, a satisfied smile curving his lips.

It seemed the anonymously sent batch of “computers” had all reached the first group of beta testers on time.

Harvey hadn’t screened the initial testers. He’d simply pulled up the Federation’s bulletins, made a long list of everyone who had published research findings and papers, and sent one to each of them. It was a matter of casting a wide net.

They were both data providers for his Magic Net transmission experiment and his own potential future customers.

He just had to wait until the first online chat room opened tomorrow night, and then he could monitor the specific communication data in real-time.

To be honest, Harvey wasn’t completely confident in the server he’d cobbled together through trial-and-error research and development, or in the matching “Magic Brain” devices.

He had invited about ten people to be the first members of the chat room. Perhaps some would be absent or refuse to participate for various reasons.

But judging from the number of handle “registrations” the server was reporting, at least six or seven high-level casters would be participating tomorrow night.

First, he would see just how many people it could support in a simultaneous, transcontinental synchronous message transmission.

Chapter 12: A Magical Multiplayer Online Chat Room

In a state of restless anxiety, the Quinn brothers finally waited until nine o’clock the next evening.

Following the instructions of “Administrator Turing,” they inserted the charged magic stone into the slot of the “Magic Brain” communicator.

They entered their predetermined codename: “Man in the Mirror.”

The mercury-like tadpoles on the crystal slate squirmed and slowly formed a line of welcoming text.

“Welcome to this session of the Magic Net Casters Forum, an anonymous exchange.”

“I am Administrator Turing. Good evening, everyone.”

Ofre and Ed, squeezed tightly onto a single chair, each perched on half the seat, exchanged a look. They decided to wait for others to send the first message.

Sure enough, it wasn’t long before new text appeared on the crystal slate. It was a message from a caster.

【Hand of Elements: Good evening, Mr. Administrator. Good evening, everyone. I am delighted to be invited to this mysterious exchange.】

“This Elemental Mage is quite polite, though his username gives away his identity at a glance,” Harvey chuckled to himself, sitting in front of the server monitoring equipment in his lab.

With someone having broken the ice, others began to send their greetings, gradually joining the conversation.

【Son of Flame: I have a question for Mr. Administrator. I wonder what price I must pay for an answer?】

【Son of Flame: It’s about the operating principle of this casters’ forum. Does it involve high-level spell theories like sigil positioning?】

Harvey flinched as if he had been suddenly called upon. Can’t we have a nice chat without @’ing the admin for no reason?

The participants in the forum were all high-level casters he had personally screened. Any casual question could expose his own lack of knowledge and spellcasting ability.

As Harvey hesitated over whether to refuse directly, a new message suddenly popped up in the chat.

【The Scorching Sovereign: Perhaps I can answer this question on Mr. Turing’s behalf, at no cost.】

Everyone stopped sending messages, seemingly placing great importance on the answer to this question.

【The Scorching Sovereign: The devices Mr. Turing gifted to everyone are simple in structure but exquisitely designed. The spell matrix that drives them draws energy from the Magic Net through multidimensional overlap.】

【But I believe that this small device alone is incapable of transmitting and receiving instantaneous messages from multiple people across such vast distances.】

【Therefore, I surmise that Mr. Turing must have used his own profound research into spell matrices to condense a unique projection sigil of his own within the Magic Net, correct?】

The red-haired Mage with the username “Son of Flame” sat before his “Magic Brain” device, his mouth slightly agape with astonishment.

“A sigil projection? That’s an ability unique to Legendary Casters. Which Legendary Caster is Mr. Turing the alias for?”

【Frost Giant: Even a Legendary Caster’s sigil projection cannot support such a massive exchange of information. With all due respect, even a continental-level teleportation array can only achieve one-way transmission.】

【Earth’s Favored: Perhaps it is maintained by multiple high-level casters simultaneously drawing the matrix and continuously casting spells to maintain a stable transmission?】

【Frost Giant: Untraceable, completely anonymous, and with instantaneous messages. You tell me, which group of high-level casters could draw a matrix of this level?】

“This Mr. Frost Giant seems to be a real contrarian,” Harvey thought, gloating a little since he didn’t have to answer the life-or-death question himself, even as the group’s guesses veered further and further off course.

As expected, the atmosphere of the exchange immediately grew heated, and a sense of tension filled the virtual forum.

Fortunately, Harvey had Unit Zero acting as a repeater to relay information, as well as the improved Spell Messengers zipping through the Magic Net to guarantee that the source of the messages was completely untraceable.

Otherwise, these high-level casters, who were getting worked up just from chatting, might have actually started fighting through the screen.

After all, in this world, something like “tracking you through the connection to come and kill you” could actually happen.

The tracking spells of high-level casters were not to be underestimated.

The Quinn brothers squirmed anxiously, both frozen in front of the “Magic Brain” device, staring blankly at the intense forum discussion.

“Ofre, should we still send a message and publicly ask about the problems we’ve encountered in our experiment?”

Ofre froze, then hesitated as well. “It involves forbidden magic. Let’s observe for a while longer. I’m sure this won’t be the only forum session.”

Within the Alchemical Exploration Society, the “Man-made God” project, presided over by the brothers Ofre and Ed, had long been at a standstill.

One could even say it had been doomed to fail from the very beginning.

To any Alchemist, the experiment of creating life was as alluring as the most brilliant gem on a divine throne.

It meant that alchemy was encroaching upon the Creator’s authority, possessing the supreme power to grant life to inanimate objects.

But the moment it touched upon the ethereal realm of gods, it was met with enormous controversy and opposition.

The experiment of creating life was once classified along with the curse-type spells of Necromancers, sacrificial spells, and the demon-summoning spells of Arcane Mages.

The Federation listed it as forbidden magic, prohibiting it from being casually studied, spread, or used.

But the Quinn brothers had, in secret, already begun attempting alchemical experiments using non-human intelligent creatures.

Vile orcs, rock goblins, half-demons…

It seemed as long as they didn’t use humans for their experiments, the Federation could continue to turn a blind eye.

【Heart of the Forest: Everyone, I have a research question I need help with. It’s regarding nature-type spells…】

The message blinked solitarily on the screen, completely unable to halt the fierce academic debate currently raging. It went completely ignored.

Harvey covered his face, exasperated. The original intention of creating this forum was to let you all freely exchange theories on spellcraft so I could plagiarize some free high-level knowledge. How did it end up like this?

If these high-level casters were on the internet of his previous life, they’d be a bonafide squad of top-tier keyboard warriors.

Harvey decided to step in personally to change the subject.

【Administrator Turing: If you require a one-on-one discussion, you may request that I block out others. This depends on whether each individual is willing to speak publicly.】

The admin’s intervention was remarkably effective. The crowd immediately ceased their arguments and began to raise new questions.

【Ghost Captain: Mr. Administrator, if we share knowledge in the forum, how should we pay and receive compensation?】

【The Scorching Sovereign: Money is meaningless to me!】

【Heart of the Forest: I might be able to provide some valuable spellcasting materials in exchange, but how would I deliver them to the other party while remaining anonymous?】

【Frost Giant: Valuable does not mean needed. The same material has vastly different values in the eyes of different types of casters.】

【Son of Flame: Bullshit!】

Stop arguing, please stop arguing.

Harvey, seeing the topic was about to devolve back into controversy, quickly stepped in to manage the situation.

【Administrator Turing: I believe none of you think that the knowledge you contribute can be measured solely by money and materials.】

【Administrator Turing: I will use a points system to assign value to everyone’s contributions and efforts.】

【Administrator Turing: Every caster who participates in a forum exchange will automatically receive 10 points. Those who publicly share knowledge or intelligence will, after all members have collectively judged its value, receive a corresponding point reward.】

【Administrator Turing: Those seeking answers to questions can publicly post the question with a point bounty. The one who answers will receive the points paid by the questioner.】

【Administrator Turing: All content exchanged and discussed within the forum adheres to the principles of freedom, openness, inclusivity, and anonymity, and is not bound by any rules.】

When the Quinn brothers saw the last sentence appear on the crystal slate, their faces lit up with ecstasy.

This meant that even discussing forbidden magic would carry no real-world risk.

The red-haired Mage with the username “Son of Flame” frowned slightly as he looked at the crystal slate. “This Administrator Turing’s casual attitude… could his true identity be a non-human, neutral ancient being? A high-level demon or an ancient dragon?”

All the casters participating in the exchange simultaneously realized that this completely open and absolutely secret forum…

The knowledge and intelligence it contained, along with that strange rule of exchanging knowledge for points, was probably where its true, immense value lay.

Chapter 13: Traces of the Vile Orc Tribe

In the early morning, the old hunter Pierce arrived at the densely wooded foot of Raven Ridge, just as he always did.

Today would be his last hunt before winter.

He still had time to harvest a batch of high-quality winter pelts before moving to Grizzly Keep for the season.

He didn’t want to venture too deep into the mountains, lest he delay his return trip or run into a black bear that hadn’t yet hibernated.

Pierce first followed the markers he had left to check the traps and snares he’d set a week ago.

Luck was on his side. A gray wolf, clearly in its prime, lay in a bear trap, not yet snatched away by other predators.

After deftly skinning the smooth, thick wolf pelt, Pierce hummed a cheerful tune as he carved off a leg for his lunch.

Not far away, his hound barked loudly, alerting the old hunter that it had found a new trail.

“A wolf den?” Pierce saw his hound standing at the mouth of a cave, barking incessantly but refusing to go inside.

This meant a she-wolf was in the den.

Pierce crept quietly to the side of the den, took out a flint, lit a bundle of dry grass, and tossed it in.

Clenching a short knife between his teeth, he held back his restless hound and waited to the side, his hands loosely gripping his hunting bow.

He waited for a long time. The thick smoke from the burning grass had already dissipated, but the she-wolf never came rushing out of the den.

Pierce frowned slightly and slowly walked over to the cave entrance, peering inside.

A scrawny she-wolf with dull fur was staring at him, her eyes glowing a fluorescent green as she let out a low, threatening growl.

Beneath the she-wolf’s belly, several plump pups scurried about, seemingly trying to hide from the smoke in their mother’s thick fur.

Pierce froze for a moment, then slowly backed away from the den.

“Let’s go, old friend.” The hunter grabbed his reluctant hound and left the hunting area.

…

In a mountain valley, a dozen wolf carcasses, skinned with crude technique, lay scattered about in a gruesome, bloody scene.

The moment Pierce saw it, he instinctively felt that something was wrong.

The handiwork was not that of any of his hunter friends, and the noble lords’ hunting parties had already arrived at Grizzly Keep long ago.

Who else in this forest had the ability to slaughter an entire wolf pack?

The hound lifted its nose, sniffing the air and letting out an uneasy whimper.

In truth, Pierce didn’t need the hound’s warning. The faint, foul stench in the air, clearly not from the wolf carcasses, had already reached his nostrils.

Swoosh~

A crude, short bone spear flew through the air, piercing the hound and pinning it to the ground.

With no time to grieve, Pierce instinctively rolled behind a thick tree for cover.

The hound was not yet dead. It kicked its legs and whimpered a few times.

The foul stench grew stronger.

The hunter peeked out from behind the tree, and his pupils instantly contracted.

Two tall, burly humanoid creatures clad in filthy, broken bone armor, their heads beast-like, twisted, and swollen, emerged slowly from the bushes. They walked over to the hound, squatted down, and pulled out a flint dagger, plunging it viciously into the hound’s neck.

Squish! Pierce squeezed his eyes shut, a deep sense of dread rising in his heart.

Vile orcs! The vile orcs were here!

A breeze rustled the leaves in the forest.

The standing vile orc seemed to notice something. It twitched its nose and looked around warily.

Not good! Pierce realized the problem. He looked down at the fresh wolf leg hanging from his waist.

Thunk! A bone spear slammed into the tree he was hiding behind with such force that it nearly passed straight through the trunk.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Pierce sprang to his feet and sprinted headlong into the depths of the forest.

There was still a patrol squad in town that hadn’t left yet.

If he could just reach the outskirts of town, he would have a sliver of hope.

He had to deliver the news that the vile orcs had arrived in Raven Ridge early to the town’s spellcasters and noble lords.

Otherwise, many civilians who hadn’t evacuated in time would die.

As he ran, Pierce felt a jolt in his side, followed by a searing pain that spread to his chest.

He instinctively glanced at the source of the pain and saw a deep gash in his side, blood rapidly seeping through his torn clothes.

Behind him, the heavy, bestial breathing grew closer and closer.

The hunter unslung the pelts from his shoulder and, gritting his teeth, ran for his life at an even faster pace toward the familiar river at the foot of the mountain.

…

Harvey’s laboratory estate.

Rainer sat on a specially made metal stool, holding up a literacy booklet Harvey had compiled for him, reading it word by word.

Ever since his transformation into an alchemical lifeform, his memory was far superior to when he had been human.

He only needed to read through a booklet a few times to be able to recite it backward and forward, a feat that even Harvey envied.

“My lord, after I learn all these words, will I be able to communicate with the masters on your forum?”

Harvey shook his head with a chuckle. “Not yet. You still need to start with the most basic theories of necromancy.”

Rainer sighed with longing, “To think that I’d have a chance to become a Mage.”

He detached the charging conduit connected to his waist, his tone tinged with a hint of regret.

“My lord, if I’d known becoming an alchemical lifeform meant I could learn magic, I would have given up being human long ago!”

“Hahaha, that’s not exactly necessary…”

Suddenly, the magical trap alarms in the laboratory began to buzz.

Before Harvey could react, Rainer shot up from the stool and briskly disconnected the charging conduit.

“Intruder! My lord.”

Rainer’s tone was grave. He raised his arm, and with a jolt, his welding torch ignited with a hiss. He strode out toward the estate gate with heavy steps.

Harvey quickly followed.

He had positioned the four successfully transformed gray wolf alchemical beasts to lie in wait in the orchard outside the estate, ready to attack any intruders.

Just as he and Rainer reached the edge of the orchard, they heard a scream from within.

Oh no, it can’t be a farmer or a towns-person who wandered in by mistake, can it?

Harvey had no desire to get tangled up in a legal dispute with Federation investigators and be branded for attacking a civilian without cause.

“My lord! I know him! It’s Pierce, the old hunter from town!” Rainer had already rushed into the orchard.

When Harvey arrived, he saw the hunter lying in a pool of blood, soaking wet, with a long gash on his side.

There was also a puncture wound on his calf, which looked like it had been pierced straight through by the sharp metal leg of an alchemical beast.

One of the alchemical beasts had curled up its eight metallic insect-like legs and was cowering to the side, looking as if it had just been disciplined by Rainer.

The hunter’s face was filled with terror. He was trembling from the pain but gritted his teeth, refusing to groan.

Harvey walked over to Pierce, squatted down, and asked sternly, “Why did you trespass on a spellcaster’s estate?”

“Did you not see the ‘No Entry Without Permission’ sign I erected outside the orchard?”

Pierce clutched his injured leg and said through clenched teeth, “My lord, I… I can’t read!”

With that, his eyes rolled back, and he fainted.

…

Rainer carried the hunter Pierce back to the estate, settled him on a recliner in the laboratory, and poured a healing potion made from fluorescent fern down his throat.

Then, under Harvey’s guidance, he fetched boiled silk thread and deftly stitched up the wounds on Pierce’s side and leg.

After a while, Pierce slowly regained consciousness.

“Tell me why you trespassed on a spellcaster’s estate,” Harvey said with a stern face, continuing the question he had not yet received an answer to.

The hunter stared blankly for a moment, then, as if snapping back to reality, he said urgently, “My lord! Please, you must inform the Federation and the lord!”

“I… down at the foot of the mountain… I ran into vile orcs!”

Chapter 14: A Silent Hunting Game

As the sun set, the entire mountain ridge was bathed in a faint golden glow.

Harvey led Rainer, and they trudged along the foot of Raven Ridge.

“Sir, isn’t it too dangerous for just the two of us to annihilate that vile orc outpost squad?”

In his hands, Rainer carried four long, thin metal chains, the ends of which were attached to the four eight-legged alchemical beasts Harvey had named “Wolf Spiders.”

Every now and then, he also had to reach out and steady Harvey, who kept tripping over vines.

“It’s certainly troublesome being unfamiliar with the mountain paths,” Harvey analyzed, panting, “but we’re going for a sneak attack, not a direct confrontation. The odds are in our favor.”

“Besides, we brought the Wolf Spiders, didn’t we? It’s a perfect opportunity to test the combat capabilities of these new creations.”

Rainer nodded, tightened his grip on the chains, and said firmly, “Rest assured, Sir. No matter what, I will be in front of you.”

The Wolf Spiders possessed excellent wilderness tracking skills. Following their lead, the two made their way from the foot of the mountain deeper into the mountainside.

The sky was gradually darkening.

In a small ravine not far off, two bright bonfires lit up a patch of the sky.

Seven or eight vile orcs with ferocious faces were either squatting by the fire, tearing voraciously at chunks of meat, or half-lying on the ground, roaring loudly as they communicated.

“Half-man, half-beast creatures. Truly ugly!” Harvey and Rainer peeked out from behind a large rock some distance away, observing.

“Rainer, give the Wolf Spiders their orders first, then release them to lure the enemy out.” Seeing there were quite a few of them, Harvey decided to find a way to separate them and then pick them off one by one.

This was his first battle as a Spellcaster since graduating from the Necromancy Academy. After all, his path was that of a research-focused Spellcaster, unlike the more experienced battle mages.

Rainer nodded. He tugged on the chains in his hand, completing the exchange of commands with the Wolf Spiders, fellow alchemical lifeforms.

Then, he unfastened their metal chains and watched as they quickly dispersed, vanishing silently into the night.

…

A vile orc squatting by the fire noisily finished gnawing on a half-raw piece of meat, sucking its fingers, still wanting more.

It suddenly stood up, and after just two steps, it lifted the hem of its filthy, greasy leather loincloth, preparing to squat right there.

Seeing this, another vile orc lying nearby roared loudly, picked up a fist-sized rock, and hurled it at him.

The other vile orcs also roared, apparently criticizing it for defecating in public and ruining everyone’s appetite.

The vile orc that was hit by the rock whimpered twice and reluctantly walked towards the bushes beyond the firelight’s reach.

After a series of gurgling sounds, the vile orc casually grabbed a handful of dead leaves from the ground and wiped its bare bottom.

Satisfied, it stood up.

Suddenly, it sensed something hovering over its head, something that seemed to have been watching it for a long time.

The vile orc instinctively looked up, only to see a massive black shadow with eight thick, faintly gleaming legs descending from above.

It pounced right onto its face, slamming it to the ground with a thud.

Pfft. After a faint, barely audible sound, the bushes fell silent again.

A night breeze blew, carrying a faint scent of blood. One of the vile orcs lying on the ground twitched its nose and rose to its feet, alert.

There was a rustling in the bushes, and a figure staggered out of the darkness toward the fire.

The vile orc that had stood up in alarm gripped its bone spear and shouted a question, but received no reply.

All the vile orcs’ eyes focused on the figure as it walked into the range of the firelight.

Only then did they see that its head was mangled beyond recognition. A massive piercing wound ran from its face straight through to the back of its skull, and through the opening, they could faintly see its shattered brains.

The largest and most muscular of the vile orcs, carrying a stone axe, fearlessly strode up to the one with the mangled head, raised its axe, and swung it horizontally with all its might.

With a crack, it lopped off the vile orc’s head, which was already hanging precariously, sending it rolling several times across the ground.

The headless corpse twitched for a few seconds before finally collapsing to the ground.

Another blood-curdling scream rang out. The others turned to see their companion standing at the very back being ambushed from behind by some foul beast.

A trail of bloody drag marks from a struggle led into the dense bushes.

One vile orc, spear in hand, was about to give chase. But just as it reached the edge of the bushes, a massive black shadow pounced on it from the side.

It, too, was dragged into the darkness.

Fewer and fewer vile orcs remained standing by the fire.

The tall vile orc, who was clearly the leader, opened its tusk-filled mouth and roared, stopping its companions from giving chase.

Suddenly, it sensed something approaching from behind in the darkness. Without turning its head, it swiftly drew a bone spear from its waist.

It twisted its waist, spun around, and violently hurled the short spear. The sound of something breaking the air and the clang of metal rang out at the same time.

Clang!

The bone spear struck the leg of a bizarrely shaped spider. The immense impact snapped the metallic-looking leg clean off.

The bone spear shattered into fragments as well.

But the strange spider didn’t pounce. Instead, it scurried away quickly on its remaining seven legs.

The vile orc leader could no longer restrain itself and leaped forward in pursuit.

He had not chased far when a slender, black-robed figure suddenly appeared from behind a tree, its hood blending into the night.

Beneath the black robe’s hood, the corners of a mouth curled into a slight smile as the figure silently chanted an incantation.

A thick, dark green mist spewed from its sleeve, shooting straight towards the vile orc’s face.

Aaaaargh!

The leader clutched at its face, which was being corroded and burned by the mist. It screamed in agony and stumbled back, only to slam into what felt like an incredibly hard chest.

Before it could turn its head or open its eyes, it felt a pair of ice-cold hands grip its neck.

Crack!

The vile orc leader’s neck was twisted a full circle.

Before it lost its last shred of consciousness, it could vaguely see the campfire in the distance.

Three more of the same eight-legged spider monsters were pouncing on its companions, plunging their sharp legs into their bodies.

…

“Oh, you poor little thing. One of your legs got broken,” Rainer said, picking up the fallen metal leg and looking with a pained expression at the limping Wolf Spider beside him.

“It’s alright. We’ll just weld it back on when we get back,” Harvey said casually. It seemed the leg joints of the Wolf Spiders were a weak point.

“Sir, should I gather them all to be burned?” Rainer asked, looking at the pile of vile orc corpses the Wolf Spiders had dragged together.

Harvey laughed. “No need for such trouble, Rainer. Have you forgotten what kind of Mage I am?”

He took out a magic stone, holding it in his hand as he chanted the difficult, tongue-twisting incantation for the Resurrection Spell.

A dense wave of death energy surged through the area. Even the docile Wolf Spiders lying nearby began to stir their legs restlessly.

The joints of the corpses made strange cracking sounds as they slowly climbed to their feet.

They stood silently in a row, a quiet and terrifying sight.

“Hmm, Sir, this is the first time I’ve ever seen you use necromancy,” Rainer said, his voice filled with awe.

Harvey clapped his hands in satisfaction and used a magical command to signal the Living Corpses to follow him.

“It’s a shame the vile orcs can’t communicate. Otherwise, if converted into alchemical lifeforms, they would make the perfect workforce.”

“More perfect than me, Sir?”

“You’re different. You are human. Even if you no longer have a body of flesh, you feel that you are, and I feel that you are, so you are.”

“But now… I’m starting to think it’s better not to be human…”

The Wolf Spiders scuttled ahead on their long legs to clear the path, while seven or eight bloody, mangled Living Corpses silently brought up the rear.

The two chatted idly as they made their way slowly toward the small town at the foot of the mountain.

In the ravine, only two sputtering campfires, on the verge of going out, remained.

Chapter 15: The Defense Plan: Taking the Initiative!

The hunter, Pierce, spent a nerve-wracking week in the Necromancer’s manor.

Despite having lived in Jackdaw Town for over thirty years, he had never had any direct contact with a Mage Lord.

Let alone a Necromancer, who, according to rumor, enjoyed dealing with corpses and ghosts and possessed a cold, inhuman personality.

Although he was properly settled in a small bedroom on the manor’s first floor to recover and hadn’t seen Lord Harvey again, the skeletal monster that came to change his dressings and bring him meals every day still frightened him.

It stood over two and a half meters tall, its body inlaid with hard metal, and a cold, ethereal blue flame flickered within the eye sockets of its skull.

This Necromancer Lord’s tastes seemed different from what the hunter had imagined.

There were no gruesome or filthy scenes in the manor to cause fear or discomfort, nor were there any elusive ghosts to be seen at night.

There weren’t even any rats or cockroaches.

The soft bed, the cozy drapes, the thick carpet that sank slightly underfoot…

If it weren’t for the young Mage Lord returning to the manor every evening with his metal skeleton, followed by a troop of shambling, blood-soaked vile orc Living Corpses that slowly entered the dark, sealed laboratory next to the main building, Pierce would have mistaken the place he was staying in for the country villa of a noble.

…

Ever since annihilating that first vile orc advance party in the hollows of Raven Ridge, Harvey had noticed that traces of vile orcs in the mountains were becoming more and more frequent.

He had no choice but to disperse all ten of his hastily expanded force of Wolf Spider alchemical beasts to patrol the foot of the mountains, and he had also fitted them with one-way communication devices that could be activated at any time.

He received enemy alerts from the Wolf Spiders almost every day.

A week had passed, and his storage was already stuffed with over thirty vile orc Living Corpses.

Thinking back to how he had been struggling just a few months ago because a shortage of Living Corpses was affecting his new venture, Harvey found it somewhat amusing.

It could only be said that plunder was indeed the best option for completing the primitive accumulation of capital.

If he could successfully fend off this tide of vile orc raids this winter, then by next spring, his new startup project could get off the ground immediately, and he would no longer have to worry about a lack of large-scale labor.

That was why, for the past few days, despite being a physically frail research-type Spellcaster, Harvey had persistently led Rainer and the alchemical beasts.

He conscientiously hunted down vile orc vanguard squads in Raven Ridge, repeatedly using hit-and-run tactics to annihilate them.

Against this sort of low-intelligence, primitive race, it was a tried-and-true tactic.

The only problem now was to pray that the vile orc tribe crossing Raven Ridge to enter the town’s vicinity this winter wasn’t too large.

After all, Harvey’s alchemy materials were nearly depleted, and he couldn’t spare any more to convert into alchemical beasts.

…

“So, we can’t wait until the dead of winter, when large hordes of vile orcs gather to attack the town.” Harvey leaned over his desk, murmuring to himself as he stared at the map of Raven Ridge that he’d had the hunter, Pierce, draw.

“The best way is to proactively enter the depths of Raven Ridge, eliminate the smaller vile orc squads, and gradually wear down their numbers.”

Rainer came in carrying a basin of ice water that had been soaked with an Icy Magic Stone. He advised, “My lord, you should soak your feet first. They’re so swollen you can’t even take your boots off…”

Harvey waved his hand dismissively, motioning for Rainer to come look at the map as well.

“Have all the injured and damaged Wolf Spiders been repaired, Rainer?”

“Of course, my lord. Although we’re short on conversion materials, we still have plenty of repair materials.” Rainer set down the basin and repeated worriedly, “My lord, your feet…”

Unable to resist Rainer’s fussy concern, Harvey could only sit down in an armchair with a wry smile and struggle to pull off his sweaty boots.

His feet really were swollen!

After the last hunt yesterday, Harvey had been almost unable to return on his own. He had relied entirely on Rainer carrying him through the rugged mountain forest to get back to the manor before nightfall.

However, after these few days of practical spellcasting, Harvey had gained a great deal of experience.

In a little while, he might even be able to analyze and develop his own instant-cast spell from his sigils, officially achieving incantation-less casting.

As for which spell to choose, Harvey decided to wait. After all, a novice Spellcaster could only learn spells up to the third circle.

Perhaps he could use the ‘smurf account’ he’d set up in advance to look for a powerful third-circle spell on the Spellcaster forums.

As for points, well, he could generate as many as he wanted for himself!

Soaking his swollen feet in the ice-cold water, Harvey couldn’t help but shiver.

“Rainer, how is Mr. Pierce’s recovery coming along?”

“Hmm, he’s recovering quickly. He can already walk around, and I’ve made him a crutch,” Rainer reported prattlingly.

Harvey nodded, not forgetting to remind him, “Remember to take out his stitches.”

He couldn’t let the hunter stay in the manor for too long. Not only would it delay his evacuation from Jackdaw Town, but it would also increase the risk of his alchemical lifeform conversion experiments being exposed.

While most commoners were illiterate and had no knowledge of magic, who knew when an unintentional slip of the tongue might tip off those inquisitorial hounds from the Federation.

Harvey, the Necromancer of Jackdaw Town, actually had an alchemical creation by his side that could think and speak like a living person.

You didn’t need to be a genius to figure out he was conducting forbidden human experiments.

…

“L-Lord Harvey, I… I don’t want to evacuate Jackdaw Town anymore,” Pierce said, leaning on his crutch, a little timidly.

“Hmm? You’re not planning to leave with the lord’s people? That’s the last convoy evacuating the town,” Harvey said, somewhat surprised.

He had planned to send the nearly-recovered hunter on his way, then take Rainer and the alchemical beasts directly into the mountains to find a suitable location for a hidden camp and begin his planned piecemeal annihilation.

The hunter was silent for a moment, then mustered his courage and explained, “Are you planning to stay and fight the vile orcs coming over the mountains by yourself?”

“If you’ll allow it, I want to join your fight. No one knows Raven Ridge better than I do. I can be your guide.”

Pierce puffed out his chest with a hint of pride. “There are many places in the mountains that are natural traps.The swamps, the thorn woods, the vipers’ nests… they can all make the vile orcs suffer.”

Harvey asked, confused, “That’s very dangerous. You’re not a Spellcaster, nor are you a knight. You could easily lose your life.”

The hunter mumbled, “My parents and sisters… dozens of years ago, when the vile orcs invaded Maple Leaf Village, they were brutally slaughtered by those beasts…”

He paused, his voice seemingly suppressing a great deal of emotion. “On my own, I can’t do anything. But by staying with you, I have a hope of avenging them. I know you’ve already killed many vile orcs.”

Harvey hadn’t expected the old hunter to have such a tragic past. “Alright, I’ll allow you to join. But I can’t guarantee your safety in battle. You need to understand that.”

Pierce looked up, a glimmer of hopeful joy in his eyes. “I’ll find a way to stay alive myself, my lord. Please don’t worry. As long as I can kill more of those beasts, it’s a win for me.”

Harvey nodded and pointed to the map spread out on the table.

“Then where would you suggest we set up a hidden camp?”

Pierce squinted at the map of Raven Ridge he had drawn from half a lifetime of experience and memory.

After thinking for a moment, he reached out with a rough, calloused finger and pointed to a spot on a natural cliff just below the summit.

“White Eagle Bluff. From here, you can see a large swath of the mountainside on the other side of Raven Ridge. It’s perfect for keeping watch.”

He then pointed to another location. “Blackwater Pool. Foul water from the Rotting Marsh Creek flows into it year-round. There’s no clean water source, so not even wild animals go near it, let alone vile orcs. It’s excellent for concealment.”

“And there’s the Thornbloom Slopes. This whole area is covered in thorny flowering shrubs, but there’s no dense forest, so the view is wide open. It might not look easy to hide on the surface, but the ground underneath has been almost completely hollowed out by burrowing rats. It’s a natural deathtrap.”

Harvey patted the hunter’s shoulder in satisfaction. “As expected of an old hunter. Rest up for another two days, and then you’ll follow my alchemical beasts into the mountains to start wiping out those vile orc advance parties.”

Chapter 16: A Budding High-End Forum

Fell Hoden, a high-level mage well-versed in fire elemental magic, sat before the “Magic Brain” early in the morning, full of anticipation.

He took a crystal-clear charged magic stone from his storage box and deftly inserted it into the device’s slot.

Then, with practiced ease, he tapped out his forum handle on the keypad—“Son of Flame.”

The mercury tadpoles on the crystal plate swirled, and familiar text slowly materialized before his eyes.

Since it wasn’t the scheduled Friday night forum meetup, there weren’t many people online in the “Magic Brain.”

Everyone was lazily sending idle chatter—greetings, bits of gossip, and the like.

Fell didn’t want to waste time joining in. Instead, he pressed a key and entered a new functional interface that had opened a few days ago.

That’s right. Besides the “chat room,” the forum now had a brand-new “Information Exchange” section.

Currently, the section only had a few messages. The red-haired mage scrolled through the interface and quickly found the post he had made yesterday.

[Son of Flame: Seeking the formula for an alchemical potion. It must be able to significantly boost mental energy and completely replace sleep. The points for the trade can be negotiated based on the potion’s effectiveness.]

Someone had replied! Fell was delighted to see three replies beneath his post.

[Frost Giant: Everyone else looks for potions, but you go and ask for the formula directly. Do you think the alchemical formula for a high-level potion just grows on trees?]

“This piece of crap again!” Fell’s face flushed with anger. “Don’t let me find out your real name, or I’ll hang you from the clock tower and roast you on both sides!”

[Heart of the Forest: I have a formula for a potion with similar effects, but it’s not as powerful as you require. It does significantly boost mental energy, but it’s the overdraft type. There will be a period of weakness after the effect wears off… 50 points, price is non-negotiable.]

[Earth’s Favored: I also have a formula. After taking it, you won’t feel tired for three days. The side effect is thirst; you’ll need to drink a lot of water. Uh, you could try taking it with the potion from the user above… 20 points. Of course, if you’re willing to give me feedback on the effects of taking both potions at once, I can give you a fifty percent discount.]

“Well, now,” Fell said indignantly. “They’re planning to use me as a test subject.”

He knew his request was a bit much, but his imminent spell experiment truly required sacrificing a great deal of sleep and mental energy.

It seemed his only option was to wait for the Friday night forum meetup and ask the mysterious and powerful Administrator Turing.

Non-human, ancient beings like him often had vast collections; he might have a clue to a higher-level formula.

“Points, points, I need to accumulate a lot of points right now.”

Fell muttered to himself as he focused on scrolling through the paid posts in the “Information Exchange” section.

Unfortunately, none of them fell within his area of expertise.

He subconsciously scrolled to the last post and, intrigued by the title, clicked on it.

[Man in the Mirror: Seeking an enchanted item that emanates a strong deathly energy. Type and effect do not matter, but the quality should preferably be mid-tier or higher. Price can be negotiated based on the item’s specific value.]

“Is this guy one of those necrophiliacs who like to play with corpses, a Necromancer?” Fell thought with a hint of dark amusement.

However, unlike the orthodox traditionalists of the Federation, he didn’t discriminate against this particular group.

He believed necromancy was just one of the many ways magical energy manifested. It just looked a little disgusting, but it was fundamentally no different.

“Wait! I think I actually have a necromantic artifact!” The fire mage slapped his forehead, a forgotten item from his dusty collection suddenly coming to mind.

He stood up and ran clattering down the stairs into the storage room at the base of his Mage Tower.

“Where is it, where is it, where is it! That disgusting, moldy skull!”

He paid no mind to the dust and cobwebs dirtying his hands as he rummaged frantically through a messy pile of sealed boxes.

“Ah! Found it. I thought I’d flushed it down the sewer.”

Satisfied, he picked up the vaguely familiar skull. Fell then fully recalled that it was the trophy he had despised most among the many he’d collected over a decade ago while taking turns on guard duty in the Evil Moon Mountain Range.

It belonged to a demonic priest he had directly hit with his teacher’s self-created fourth-circle spell—“Dragon’s Flame Scorch”—burning him until only a skull remained.

Fell had discovered that the demonic priest’s remaining skull radiated a strong deathly energy. While it couldn’t be used directly as an enchanted weapon, it could assist a Necromancer who also wielded deathly energy in casting high-level spells.

However, Necromancers were generally poor. At his post, there wasn’t a single Necromancer who could afford this skull.

In the end, he could only toss it into his storage room, where it had been gathering dust ever since.

“Tsk, but how am I supposed to trade it to the Man in the Mirror?” Fell felt he had run into a new problem.

Necromancers were low-key and cautious, always lurking in the mountains or remote areas, and they generally didn’t have frequent contact with other Spellcasters.

“I wonder if this ‘Man in the Mirror’ is willing to reveal his real-world address so I can mail it to him.”

…

Since arranging for Rainer and the hunter Pierce to head into the mountains to hunt down the vile orcs, Harvey was finally free from the grueling mountain journey and had time to continue researching and upgrading his Magic Net forum.

After the first forum meetup last Friday, he had hurriedly drawn up a matrix to create an “Information Exchange” section, giving the first batch of Spellcasters a platform to earn points and freely exchange knowledge.

As of yesterday, among the Spellcasters invited in the forum’s initial phase, aside from three who had been “lurking” the entire time and hadn’t participated in any discussions, the “Information Exchange” section had already facilitated two information trades.

“Those three lurkers probably have sensitive identities and are still in a wait-and-see mode,” Harvey concluded, settling on the most plausible explanation.

Hopefully, after a few more meetups, they would gradually let their guard down.

But the points-based trading system, without a similarly secure item-teleportation system to accompany it, would always be a castle in the air. As the number of participants grew, this virtual currency system could easily devalue and collapse.

The next primary goal was to quickly develop an item-teleportation function that was as fast as communication and untraceable.

“Looks like I’ll have to risk entering the Magic Net again to study and observe the design of spell trajectories and matrix patterns…”

Harvey thought of the unknown, dim sigil he had encountered during his first time roaming the Magic Net and the dangerous situation that followed, where the other party had devoured it in disguise and attempted to trace him back.

“I have to find a way to avoid this kind of sudden danger. Before the next meetup, I’ll use the smurf account I registered in advance to probe the forum and see if I can find a way to roam the Magic Net safely.”

Harvey turned on a spare “Magic Brain” device.

With practiced ease, he tapped the keys, posting his own “Information Exchange” message.

[Kel’Thuzad: I will soon be conducting research involving the Plane of the Magic Net. I am seeking a method to forewarn or defend against unknown dangers. The form is not limited. Interested parties may name their price.]

Chapter 17: The Vanished Vile Orc Tribe

Harvey stood on a cliff at the peak of Raven Ridge, a spot with a relatively open view.

In his hands, he held a transparent, soft, spherical object, which slowly rose into the sky as he chanted an incantation.

This was an auxiliary spell he had gotten for free from a “chat group” on the Magic Net Forum—the Eye of Reconnaissance.

It was a practical second-circle spell with a simple matrix structure and low energy consumption.

For high-level casters, it held little value as a secret and was often shared freely in public discussions.

But for most low-to-mid-level casters who couldn’t fly, it was a great tool for scouting, spying, and gathering positional intelligence.

“My lord, do you see anything?” Rainer craned his neck, nagging like a broken record. “Where in the world did those damned vile orcs go?”

After the Eye of Reconnaissance ascended to the maximum height where he could maintain a connection, Harvey carefully manipulated it, rotating it in place to observe the ground.

“The fog on the northern slope of Raven Ridge is too thick. I can’t see clearly from this high up.” Through his magical connection, Harvey could only see a vast expanse of dense white morning fog and a thick, dark green forest.

“Pierce, have any hunters ever crossed the ridge to hunt on the northern slope?”

Pierce, who had been perched on a branch looking into the distance, scurried down the tree. “Not that I know of, my lord.”

He dusted the mud off his cuffed trousers and thought for a moment. “When I first started hunting at the foot of the mountain, my master told me a legend about the northern slope…”

Rainer leaned in curiously. “It’s not the one about the terrifying giant python that swallowed an entire hunting party in one bite, is it?”

After nearly half a month, Pierce was no longer afraid of the alchemical monster and knew the reason for Rainer’s transformation.

He chuckled. “You’re more than ten years older than me, Rainer. You must have heard the legend too.”

“A noble lord led his knights on a hunt over Raven Ridge to the northern slope, hoping to capture a rare, pure-white, three-eyed fox.”

“But a month passed, and the hunting party never returned. The lord sent more people to search for them and found a massive pit at their campsite at the foot of the northern slope…”

Harvey was a bit curious. Legends were usually exaggerated. “Then how were they so sure a giant python ate them?”

Pierce added, “Two snake scales were left by the edge of the pit, my lord. They were as big as shields!”

“Ever since then, no one has dared to cross the ridge to hunt on the northern slope. Even though the python was never seen again, the northern slope is shrouded in fog year-round. You can only get your bearings after the fog clears between noon and sunset, so it’s very easy to get lost.”

“So St. Valen’s border is the crest of Raven Ridge, and the northern slope is considered ownerless wasteland?”

Harvey was aware of this. The Duchy of St. Valen was located in the north-central part of the continent, backed by the vast mountain range that transected the entire landmass—the Spine of the Continent Mountains.

This continental spine extended westward all the way to the sea, where it branched into the Evil Moon Mountain Range.

Raven Ridge, a branch in the north-central region, was also part of this continental spine’s system.

To the south of the continental spine lay numerous kingdoms of varying sizes, while to the north was a vast, harsh, and cold land inhabited by non-human races.

Demons, vile orcs, Frost Giants… and the race of dragons, rumored to have been exterminated by humans during the Dragon War.

The vile orcs were clearly different from the demons entrenched in the Evil Moon Mountain Range; they held no long-term ambitions of invading human kingdoms.

They simply followed a primitive pattern of seasonal migration, staying to reproduce during the warm seasons and raiding the south when it grew cold.

But a week ago, after Rainer and Pierce led the alchemical beasts to wipe out the last vile orc outpost on the southern slope…

…not a single vile orc had been seen since.

Even when the patrol range of the Wolf Spider alchemical beasts was pushed to the dividing line at the mountain’s peak, they found nothing.

“Could they have fled back north because their casualties were too high?” Harvey was completely baffled.

The three of them waited a while longer. As the sun rose from the east to the center of the sky, the fog at the foot of the mountain gradually dissipated.

Harvey released the Eye of Reconnaissance again, and this time, the full view of Raven Ridge’s northern slope was finally laid bare before him.

The dense primeval forest was like an ocean of dark green, stretching to the unseen end of the plains.

A blackish-red gash, like a scar on the earth, split this ocean in two, lying ugly across the middle of the vast plains.

Pierce, who had returned to his perch on the branch, had clearly also seen this sight.

“My lord, that’s the migration trail of the vile orc tribes,” he explained, looking down at Harvey and Rainer on the ground.

“As they migrate, they cut down and burn trees, dig up earth to build houses, and carve a path straight through the forest.”

Harvey gazed at the shocking scene and couldn’t help but marvel, “It seems they use this path they’ve carved out to travel between the northern lands and their southern raids each year…”

“Like a herd of beasts,” Rainer commented, clicking his tongue.

“Huh? My lord, look over there! What is that?” the sharp-eyed hunter cried out, waving his arm to direct Harvey’s gaze.

Harvey unhurriedly adjusted the Eye of Reconnaissance, slowly turning it toward the southwest direction at the foot of the northern slope.

In the midst of the dense primeval jungle, a lead-gray clearing appeared abruptly, with a strange black tower standing in its center.

Unfortunately, the Eye of Reconnaissance lacked a telescope’s magnification function; it was essentially linked to the caster’s own eyesight.

Harvey couldn’t make out any clear details, only managing to see the tower’s silhouette.

“It looks like a Mage Tower? Why would it be built there?” Harvey muttered in confusion. “Pierce, how long would it take us to get to that location?”

The old hunter skillfully held up his thumb before his eyes, gesturing as if using some special method to calculate the distance.

“If we go straight through the forest, it would take about a day and a night. There’s no established path down the mountain, so we might have to take a detour.”

Rainer asked in surprise, “My lord, why are we going there?”

Harvey explained patiently, “It might be a ruin left by an ancient spellcaster. It could be very valuable to explore.”

He paused, then thought of the vile orcs who might return. “No rush. Let’s figure out where the vile orcs went first. The ruin isn’t going to grow legs and run away.”

Just as he finished speaking, a faint, slight tremor ran through the ground. It wasn’t strong, only startling a flock of birds resting in the bushes into flight.

“The Mountain God is turning over!” Pierce cried out.

In this era, no one understood the principles or basic facts about earthquakes. Common people attributed all earthquakes and tsunamis to the power of deities.

Harvey crouched down, placed his palms on the ground, and used his mental energy to sense it for a moment.

It was just a minor tremor, probably not even a magnitude three.

Rainer also crouched down, urging anxiously, “My lord, quickly get on my shoulders! We need to leave now!”

Just then, Pierce, still perched on the branch, let out an even louder cry of alarm.

“Heavens, the black tower! It… it really grew legs and ran away!”

Harvey froze. Forgetting about checking the aftershock’s intensity, he shot to his feet and cast the Eye of Reconnaissance again.

It was still the same spot southwest of the northern slope’s base, the same lead-gray, barren clearing.

But the black tower had vanished without a trace.

Where the black tower had stood, only a dark hole remained, its depth impossible to judge by sight.

Chapter 18: New Business, Magic Net Express: Delivered in Seconds

“Why is it still not working?” Harvey stared at the half a brick in the teleportation array, which looked as if it had been neatly sliced by a sharp blade.

The other half of the brick was in another array ten meters away.

This was a compressed bidirectional transmission array that Harvey had developed based on the structure of the improved Spell Messenger and a standard teleportation array.

“Could it be that physical objects can’t travel through the Magic Net?”

Harvey scratched his head in frustration. “No, that can’t be right. Letters carried by the messengers can travel through it, can’t they?”

He leaned over the lab table and recorded the data from the failed experiment.

Experimental Object: Brick.

Weight: 510 grams.

Result: Encountered an unknown spatial severing. Only half the physical object completed the teleportation.

“The weight… could the weight be the problem?” Harvey muttered to himself, flipping through the records of his previous failed experiments.

“It seems I’ll have to risk entering the Magic Net again and observe the teleportation array’s transmission path myself…”

Harvey leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing. His last trip roaming the Magic Net still left him with lingering fear.

After retrieving two bottles of pre-mixed mental recovery potions from his study, Harvey, with some trepidation, reactivated the teleportation array. He attached his mental energy to it and slowly sank into the Magic Net.

Following a familiar wave of dizziness, Harvey’s consciousness swiftly entered the Plane of the Magic Net.

He arrived in the energy plane, a space filled with deep red energy conduits resembling capillaries.

The teleportation array activated from his sigil, shooting toward the unknown coordinates at a speed far exceeding that of a Spell Messenger.

Harvey quickly focused his mental energy, following the array’s trajectory.

“This is no good. The speed is too fast. It will soon stretch my mental energy to its limit and break the connection…”

Harvey withdrew from the Magic Net in defeat. He saw the glass bottle he had just placed on the array, neatly severed in two.

“Wait a minute… if my mental energy can’t reach far enough to observe, what if I attach the entire positioning sigil to the array itself?”

Harvey felt he was going a little mad. Even the most fanatical high-level casters probably wouldn’t dare attempt an experiment of this magnitude.

The positioning sigil was like a Spellcaster’s core mental self within the Magic Net. The mental energy extending from the sigil was like a tentacle.

If a tentacle was severed, the core self would take some damage, but it was a recoverable loss and wouldn’t endanger the core itself.

But moving the entire core mental self through the Magic Net… the risk would probably multiply.

It was like an alchemist personally testing the ingredients and effects of their own potions.

“Looks like I’ll have to play the part of a cyber-Shennong and risk it all.”

With his plan set, Harvey entered the Magic Net again, attaching his positioning sigil directly to the teleportation array.

He activated the array.

The compressed, improved array, carrying the core of Harvey’s mental energy, instantly flew off at an incredible speed.

Harvey felt the world spin. A wave of intense nausea gave him a splitting headache, and all he could do was grit his teeth and endure.

At the same time, he could clearly sense that as the positioning sigil’s location changed, his core mental self struggled to move forward as if it were dragging a massive mountain.

Just as he was about to vomit from the overwhelming discomfort, the teleportation array arrived at the pre-set transmission point.

Harvey opened his eyes, his face pale, and realized he was no longer sitting at the desk.

He was standing right on top of the teleportation array.

In his hand, he held a complete plaster statue—the last test subject he had placed on the array.

“It… it worked?”

Harvey was a bit dazed. It had indeed worked, but how the hell did he, the courier, get teleported along with it?!

The red-haired fire Mage, Fell Hoden, excitedly logged onto the “Magic Net.”

He was planning to send a message to the “Man in the Mirror” who was looking to buy a necromantic artifact, asking if he was willing to provide a physical address so he could mail the item.

As soon as he logged onto the Forum, his eyes widened in shock.

Next to the “Chat Room” and “Information Exchange” sections, a brand-new forum section had appeared.

“Online Real-Time Trading”?

Fell’s mouth hung slightly open as he subconsciously clicked on it and began reading the section’s rules of operation.

“Enables bidirectional transmission for instant sending and receiving of goods? To use this function, please apply to the Administrator and pay a teleportation array construction fee of 1,000 gold pounds.”

“Each subsequent online transaction will incur an additional one-time teleportation fee of 50 gold pounds or 1 point.”

“No additional fee for teleported items weighing 500 grams or less. For every 100 grams over, an additional overweight fee of 10 gold pounds will be charged.”

“Total weight of teleported items must not exceed 1000 grams, or the teleportation service cannot be provided.”

The fire Mage carefully read and reread the long list of service terms, then froze on the spot, unsure what expression to make.

Aside from the text he couldn’t quite comprehend—things like “lost or damaged goods,” “disclaimer,” “in case of force majeure,” and “no liability for compensation”—the rest was written with perfect clarity.

This Magic Net Spellcaster Forum could actually facilitate the bidirectional teleportation of items!

And it was instant!

It didn’t require multiple array connection points and transfers like the continental-level teleportation arrays, which took a great deal of time.

This was simply unimaginable.

A truly genius invention!

Without hesitation, Fell clicked to apply for the trial version. A few minutes later, he received a detailed array diagram.

He summoned his Mage apprentice to fetch precious liquid mithril, magic stones, and other supplementary materials from the storeroom.

He began to draw the array directly on his desk, attempting to imitate the structure presented on the crystal tablet.

“A teleportation array that can be powered by charged magic stones alone… even if it’s a miniature version, it’s still unbelievable.”

After finishing the drawing, Fell carefully checked and double-checked the diagram for accuracy.

Only then did he skeptically retrieve a high-grade magic stone and place it in the required position on the diagram.

“Wait! I haven’t asked the Man in the Mirror yet. He has to draw the same array for us to complete this amazing experiment!”

The fire Mage rushed back to the “Magic Brain” and began to clatter away, typing a message to summon the Man in the Mirror.

“Ofre, do you really think this is feasible?” Ed stood to the side with his hands on his hips, watching his twin brother hunched over, carefully drawing the extremely tiny teleportation array.

“How will we know if we don’t try? Are you really that pained about 1,000 gold pounds?” the Chief Alchemist replied without looking up.

“In any case, if the teleportation fails, the money won’t be sent. The fact that Mr. Administrator is so certain means it’s not a prank.”

Ed sighed. “A truly genius invention. This will probably change the entire landscape of the spellcasting world.”

If long-distance, instantaneous teleportation technology truly became a reality, then the Wizard Kingdoms and Spellcaster organizations on this continent that controlled the continental-level teleportation arrays would no longer reap the immense profits from them in the future.

Once it became widespread, the Burrowing Dwarves who produce raw magic stones and the High Elves who cultivate potion ingredients, all located thousands of kilometers away, would no longer be repeatedly exploited and have their prices driven down by raw material merchants.

The mysterious being who created this Spellcaster Forum would become the focus of everyone’s attention—or the target of their collective ire.

“Alright, it’s done. Send a message to Mr. Son of Flame. Tell him we’re ready and ask him to begin the teleportation!”

Ofre straightened up, rubbing his sore old back as he looked at Ed with anticipation.

Following a low hum from “Unit Zero” and a powerful surge of magical energy, the teleportation was complete.

Harvey looked at the two heavy bags of gold coins and a strange, grayish-black skull that had appeared on the teleportation array.

“Haha, the first new order is in!”

He picked up the money bags, weighed them in his hands, and a satisfied smile curled his lips.

“Logistics is a real money-maker! I earned two thousand gold pounds just from selling two arrays.”

And then there were the one-time transport fees for each subsequent teleportation, which would be a constant stream of income.

He then turned his gaze to the skull and picked it up, examining it curiously for a moment.

“Such strong death energy. It could increase my meditation speed by at least ten percent.”

Damn, I really want to intercept this package!

“No, no! I can’t ruin my reputation. The advertisement promises instant delivery, so it has to be delivered in seconds!”

Business is business! It’s all about integrity!

With a wry smile, Harvey took the skull and stepped onto the teleportation array himself.

He had basically mastered the ability to detach himself at the very last moment before the Magic Net teleportation was complete.

He wouldn’t teleport himself to the recipient along with the package.

“The only problem now is that I have to personally deliver every package!”

Chapter 19: No Middleman to Take a Cut

In the eastern part of the continent, east of the Misty Mountains, lay the elven city—Laurien, the “Golden Forest.”

Enormous trees, each so wide it would take several people to encircle them, formed a towering hedge that reached into the clouds, surrounding the most prosperous city of the elven race.

Within the tree wall, there were no buildings on the ground. Instead, stout trees of varying heights with golden-yellow bark grew in abundance.

These “Golden Trees” formed the main body of Laurien, with all the houses built upon their canopies.

Lightweight wooden bridges connected one tree to another, and countless slender, tall figures moved back and forth across them.

On a hill at the highest point in Laurien stood the most colossal “Golden Tree.”

Its crown soared into the clouds, and a magnificent white palace was built at its peak.

“Your Majesty, this is the situation…” Grand Druid Kyriel Randi stood with poise beside the throne, his hands tucked into the splendid sleeves of a robe embroidered with gold thread.

“I have made repeated attempts, and I can confirm with absolute certainty that this teleportation formation—called Online… er, Trading—can indeed achieve long-distance continental teleportation.”

Before his words had even faded, a buzzing clamor of discussion erupted in the palace. Kyriel narrowed his eyes slightly, offering no further explanation.

“With just a tiny alchemical instrument? And that small formation that only needs magic stones to operate?”

“Absurd! Since when did humans possess such advanced research on formations?”

“Perhaps it is a shameless ploy by the despicable Federation, an attempt to trick us out of our precious medicinal plants.”

“Indeed. They have always expressed dissatisfaction with our adjustments to the price of medicinal plants.”

“Hmph, then let’s raise the price of magic herb materials by another ten percent next year and see what they can do about it.”

The master of ceremonies struck the floor heavily with his golden staff. The heavy thud echoed through the grand hall.

The arguments and discussions came to an instant halt.

“Kyriel, explain the details of this… teleportation array,” a pleasant, low, and gentle voice came from above the throne.

The Grand Druid opened his eyes and bowed slightly.

“Your Majesty, the teleportation array must be activated by someone invited to this anonymous convention. I believe this is because it is bound to the invitee’s positioning sigil on the Magic Net.”

“Besides the weight limit for a single teleportation, there is also an additional monetary cost for purchasing the formation and for each use.”

“Therefore, I believe this anonymous Forum could not possibly have been established by the Federation. It must be another, unknown, mysterious organization.”

He paused, his expression returning to one of cool detachment as he scanned the faces of those in the hall.

“But I can guarantee that if we can decipher or master this teleportation technology, neither the Federation nor any human wizard kingdom will ever again enjoy the privilege of controlling the prices of magic potion ingredients and potions.”

In the clay-plastered fireplace, the fire burned brightly.

On the wall above the mantel hung the head of a massive beast with sharp tusks. The flickering firelight cast distorted shadows on the floor.

Seated in a wide armchair cushioned with thick animal hides, a short, stout man with bulging muscles gnawed on a piece of roasted meat skewered on the tip of his dagger. He carefully lifted his thick beard, which reached his chest, to keep it from getting greasy.

“So, that… what was it… trading teleportation array, it’s real?”

“Of course. I’ve tried it two or three times already, and I received a delivery confirmation message from the other party each time.”

The stocky man set down his dagger and wiped his short, thick fingers on the fur of his chair, rubbing off the grease.

“Copperhammer, can that exquisite little device be replicated? Can we get those human craftsmen on it?”

The man called Copperhammer was half-sprawled in another large chair, repeatedly tossing and catching a translucent crystal ore.

“No. Even if it could be replicated, without an invitation to that Forum like mine, you can’t activate the teleportation array.”

The heavily-bearded man’s brow furrowed slightly. “How did they find you? Strange. Is there really such a good thing that just falls into your lap?”

Copperhammer let out a chuckle, seeming quite pleased with himself.

“I have something of a reputation in Araye. At least when it comes to appraising magic ores, even the bookworms from the Federation are no match for me.”

He smugly pulled a metal brush from a side pocket of his fur coat and carefully groomed his intricately braided, dark beard.

“The Forum only invites individuals who are exceptionally outstanding in certain fields. Like me, for example. Noli, you should have come with me to study in Araye back in the day.”

Noli sneered, completely unfazed by this level of taunting and showing off.

“Once the snow melts, those merchant caravans will be coming to buy the new ore.”

“I was hoping this teleportation array of yours could open up a better sales channel for us. It seems that was just wishful thinking. I wonder how they’ll try to drive down the price of our raw ore this time.”

Copperhammer sounded indignant. “Those damned profiteers! Ever since a large mining area was discovered in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, they’ve used it as an excuse to lower our prices every single time.”

At that thought, he suddenly slammed his hand on the armrest of his chair. “Right! I found out on the Forum that the price of processed magic stones has actually gone the hell up!”

“Hmph, you think I don’t know that? Those shameless vampires. They buy our raw ore at rock-bottom prices, process it, and then sell it for a profit. With the war between the human kingdoms and the Demons intensifying, the consumption of magic stones has skyrocketed.”

“We should have been the ones making a fortune from this war!”

Noli shot Copperhammer a sidelong glance, cutting off the rambling complaint he was about to launch into.

“Enough. You wouldn’t dare say these things to those human Spellcasters. Let’s think about the real problem.”

“Find a way to get the replication methods for that instrument and formation from the Forum. As long as we have a hundred sets of these teleportation arrays, hmph, I guarantee those merchant caravans will never buy another piece of cheap ore from us again!”

Harvey, wrapped in a thick fleece blanket, shivered as he sat at his desk, scrolling through the flood of information on his “Magic Brain” crystal tablet.

The winters in Jackdaw Town were so cold!

The manor he rented belonged to a minor noble from Grizzly Keep, a small country villa for temporary residence during the summer hunting season.

The original estate consisted of only a single three-story building. The first floor was a reception hall with two servant bedrooms.

He had converted the entire second floor into a study and a storage room, while the third floor was his own bedroom and living quarters.

The experimental workshop adjacent to the small building was something he had hired local workers to build after he arrived. It now served as the server room for “Unit Zero” and a laboratory for converting alchemical beasts.

He had also excavated a basement storeroom beneath the workshop to store the Living Corpses, using Icy Magic Stones to maintain a low-temperature environment.

The problem was, this nobleman’s small summer country villa didn’t even have a fireplace!

Harvey felt that his entire body was as cold as the pile of gleaming gold pounds stacked in his storeroom.

The delivery service, online for just one short week, had already brought him a full nine thousand gold pounds in profit.

And that wasn’t even counting the small, continuous stream of fees from single-item teleportations.

Although each teleportation required Harvey to personally conduct it through the Magic Net, the money was truly flowing in like an endless stream.

He then looked at the numerous messages on the Forum, all asking “Administrator Turing” if it was possible for members to invite more people to the Forum through a vouching and recommendation system.

“My body may be cold, but my heart is on fire. My online platform is finally on the right track!”

Harvey tightened the blanket around himself and tapped the keyboard with slightly stiff fingers.

Building a platform is indeed much more profitable than just selling products!

Chapter 20: An Expedition Deep into Raven Ridge

Rainer was sprinting through the forests of Raven Ridge with Harvey on his back.

“My lord, that… ‘engine oil’ you mentioned, is it really better than animal grease?” Even while running at high speed, Rainer was still able to speak with a steady voice.

Each step he took sent a violent tremor through the ground, making Harvey, who was clinging to his back, feel as if his bones were about to shatter.

“Of… course. Besides… engine… oil, I… also… need… to get… you… shock absorbers!”

Harvey felt like his bones weren’t just about to shatter; when he opened his mouth, his words came out in stops and starts that matched the rhythm of Rainer’s steps.

“What are shock absorbers? Ah, we’re almost there, my lord, look!”

Rainer came to an abrupt halt, his alloy feet plowing a deep furrow into the muddy ground.

The powerful inertia nearly made Harvey spew out his breakfast.

Harvey slid limply off his back. He closed his eyes and recovered for a few minutes before he had the energy to observe his surroundings.

A dense, dark green forest occupied most of his vision.

The scenery on the northern slope of Raven Ridge was different from the vibrant, bright, light green of the town to the south. It was a deep, thick green that stretched as far as the eye could see, so dense that the towering vegetation completely blocked out the sky above.

“We haven’t strayed from the path, have we?” Rainer stood on his toes, looking around.

Harvey wasn’t in a rush to cast Eye of Reconnaissance to confirm their location, as he had already spotted the obvious signs left by the hunter.

“Pierce has been here. Look at that tree.” Harvey pointed to a thick trunk where a red strip of cloth was tied crookedly. A simple, agreed-upon symbol was also carved into the bark.

“Hmm, Pierce is really bold. He left a day before us and has already made it this far.”

I have to bring five alchemical beasts with me; I’m even bolder than he is, Harvey complained silently. “Let’s head to the temporary camp marked by Pierce’s sign first. We need to rest.”

Rainer swiftly dropped into a lunge, waiting for Harvey to climb onto his back, but was met with a merciless refusal.

“Thanks, but let me walk for a bit, Rainer. I’m about to throw up.”

The campsite marked by the hunter’s sign wasn’t far.

Harvey was quite impressed by Pierce’s wilderness skills. Although he had a full day’s head start, he didn’t have a monstrous alchemical body like Rainer’s. The fact that he could cross the treacherous mountain ridge so quickly with the stamina and speed of an ordinary person, descend into the forest at the foot of the mountain, and not get lost was remarkable.

He had probably even found time to survey the terrain and draw a simple map along the way.

Now that’s what you call a professional!

…

The camp Pierce had set up in advance was located upstream of a mountain stream, on the leeward side of a massive boulder.

A small bonfire crackled on a flat, clean slab of rock, where a plucked and cleaned mountain pheasant was roasting to a golden-brown, dripping with oil.

Between two thick, adjacent trees, a large, off-the-ground “bird’s nest” was constructed at about half a person’s height.

The nest was padded with soft, dry moss and pine branches, and a rainproof tarp was stretched over the top.

This was a hunter’s specialty. Sleeping in a “bird’s nest” tent far above the ground was not only an effective way to avoid poisonous insects, snakes, and ants, but also a defense against common small wild animals.

“My lord, Rainer! You’ve finally arrived. I was worried you’d lost your way!”

Pierce was squatting by the fire, holding a hard piece of rye bread. He was using a small knife to slice it thinly and smear it with the fat dripping from the pheasant.

“My lord, come and try my cooking!” the hunter offered, presenting the grease-soaked slice of bread as if it were a treasure. He then looked at Rainer standing to the side and paused.

“Rainer, you can have some too… uh, do you have enough charged magic stones? Did you bring a full supply?”

Rainer squatted down nonchalantly and took a magic stone from a small pouch at his waist to replace his old one. “Of course. I don’t get hungry or thirsty. Just take good care of our lord.”

“Have you confirmed the location of the ruins?” Harvey asked seriously after swallowing two slices of greasy bread.

Pierce hesitated slightly. “You told me not to approach recklessly. I observed it from a distance on a higher slope.”

“There is indeed a deep pit. That… that black tower… it seems to have fallen in.”

Harvey nodded. “Tomorrow, have Rainer control the alchemical beasts to investigate up close, just in case.”

He turned to remind Rainer, “Don’t be reckless. This is very likely a ruin left behind by an ancient Mage. It’s highly dangerous.”

“Those vile orcs have all retreated from the northern slope towards the barren lands. They left a lot of tracks along the way,” Pierce quickly added.

Based on Pierce and Rainer’s past experiences with the vile orcs’ habit of raiding south in the winter, Harvey found this year to be very unusual.

What on earth drove them from the warm south back to the cold, food-scarce northern barren lands?

Could it really be that his single-handed annihilation of a few small scouting parties had made them retreat in fear?

…

A restless night passed quickly. Harvey hadn’t slept well at all.

He had almost no experience sleeping in the wild. Even with the hunter and Rainer taking turns on watch for the first and second halves of the night, and ten Wolf Spider alchemical beasts guarding the perimeter of the camp, he still found it difficult to fall into a peaceful sleep.

“Let’s move out. Have the alchemical beasts scout ahead.”

He hoped the suspected ancient Mage ruin would yield some unexpected gains, or perhaps reveal the reason for the vile orcs’ retreat.

The three of them followed the markers the hunter had left the day before.

After walking for about two hours, they reached the edge of the ruins they had spotted from the mountain peak.

The dense green forest gradually thinned out. The low-lying vegetation was slightly blackened, lying withered on the ground.

Beneath layers of decaying branches, Harvey saw a long section of a grayish-white stone foundation, hidden among the dense, dead vines and branches.

Was this the outer wall of the Mage Tower?

They circled the broken and intermittent stone foundations, observing cautiously, but found nothing unusual.

Harvey decided to enter the ruins to investigate.

The entire ruin wasn’t large. After walking only a few hundred meters deeper, the three of them arrived at the sinkhole.

After sending the alchemical beasts to fan out and guard the surroundings, Harvey cautiously stood at the edge of the deep pit and looked down.

“Should I release the Eye of Reconnaissance, my lord?” Rainer asked in a low voice.

Harvey shook his head, gesturing for them to look more closely.

The sinkhole wasn’t actually that deep. It was just that the Mage Tower itself was built from some unknown black stone.

After it fell in, the entire pit was filled with fragments of black brick and stone. The massive, shattered black stone blocks had nearly filled the bottom of the pit.

The edges of the sinkhole were neat and tidy, which didn’t look like a collapse caused by the earthquake.

It was highly likely that the ancient Mage had installed some sort of destructive trigger trap mechanism in the ruins. Once an intruder was detected, or if it was actively triggered, the Mage Tower’s self-destruct collapse would immediately activate.

Harvey felt a pang of regret.

If there truly were any treasures or precious spellbooks left by the ancient Mage inside the tower, it was unlikely they would have survived intact.

“Rainer, command two of the Wolf Spiders to climb down. First, check if there are any remaining magic traps that haven’t been activated.”

“Pierce, find a high vantage point and keep watch on our surroundings.”

Harvey chanted the spell, activating his Eye of Reconnaissance and sending it down toward the bottom of the pit.

Since we’re already here, I have to find a way to scavenge something.

Otherwise, this whole trip would have been for nothing, and Harvey wasn’t one to suffer such a quiet loss.

Chapter 21: The Legacy of an Ancient Mage

The remains of the stone tower in the giant crater were covered with vines and moss.

It had shattered from the violent impact of its collapse. The entire stone tower was enormous, its base nearly as large as the main building of Harvey’s small estate.

A structure of this kind would usually have a main entrance at its base.

Harvey maneuvered the Eye of Reconnaissance, carefully observing the area around the tower’s base.

Sure enough, on the rear side of the tower’s base, a heavy stone door, broken in the middle, lay tilted to one side, revealing a dark and deep entrance.

The Eye of Reconnaissance required light refraction to function, so Harvey couldn’t guide it through the stone doorway.

The alchemical beasts were too large to move within such a narrow space, where the structure had clearly fractured during the collapse.

He would have to go down and investigate himself.

Dispelling the reconnaissance spell, Harvey looked up and gave a word of caution to Pierce, who was standing guard, then beckoned Rainer over.

He had Rainer carry him as he climbed down to the bottom of the crater.

“Lord, let me go in first. You can just follow behind me.” Rainer showed no fear of exploring such an unknown space.

He skillfully activated the Scorching Ray weapon on his arm, and with his body slightly stooped, he squeezed through the dark stone doorway.

Harvey followed close behind, holding an activated light-emitting magic stone.

The space at the bottom of the tower was small, not requiring much light to be seen in its entirety.

The fractured, toppled walls were dotted with smooth-edged holes, likely for mounting shelves or wooden staircases in the past.

But these things had clearly rotted away and vanished long ago.

After just a dozen steps, they encountered a massive, collapsed stone beam. Harvey could just barely pass through the gap beneath it by stooping.

Rainer had to get on his knees and crawl through.

The space behind the stone beam opened up immediately, suggesting the damage here was not as severe.

Toppled stone statues were everywhere. Shards of various shattered crystal containers were piled in the corners. Books had rotted away, leaving only their leather covers; when Harvey gently picked one up, its pages crumbled into fine dust.

The remains of what looked like metal instruments were also corroded like mud, crumbling at the slightest touch.

This must have been a study, or perhaps a spell laboratory.

Looking at the scene before him, Harvey suspected this Mage Tower could date back to the Dragon War period, more than four hundred years ago.

He just didn’t know why such a massive Mage Tower had been built in such a desolate and remote area.

What type and level of ancient Spellcaster had been its master?

And what turn of events or accident had caused them to abandon it, leaving it to be buried in the dust of history and time?

With the help of their light sources, Harvey and Rainer did their best to search the room.

“Huh? Lord, look at the ceiling!” Rainer, with his height advantage, noticed something above his head.

Harvey followed his gaze and saw several irregular cavities in the stone ceiling, with something embedded inside.

He stepped onto Rainer’s shoulders to get a closer look.

They were dull, oval-shaped metallic ores.

Harvey carefully pried one out with his short knife. It felt heavy in his hand, its surface cool and smooth.

“What kind of metal is this? It’s quite heavy, so its density must be high.”

Regardless, Harvey decided to pry them all down and take them back to study later.

After a bit of work with Rainer holding him up, Harvey had collected seven or eight of these strange metallic ores, placing them all into Rainer’s durable little leather satchel.

After searching a while longer and finding nothing else, Harvey reluctantly decided to leave and return to the surface.

Just as he walked over to the broken stone beam and was about to stoop to pass through…

…he faintly heard a cry. It seemed to have a slight echo and was too intermittent to make out clearly.

The hairs on Harvey’s arms stood on end. He immediately had Rainer re-examine the surrounding walls, looking carefully for any hidden rooms or mechanisms.

Meanwhile, he took out a magic stone, ready to cast a spell at a moment’s notice.

Before long, the cry sounded again, much clearer this time. It seemed to be coming from deep beneath his feet.

Harvey instinctively jumped back, his back slamming into Rainer’s hard breastplate, making him wince in pain.

“A secret room, under this one? Someone is calling for help from inside?”

Harvey broke out in a cold sweat. How was this possible? This ancient Mage Tower had been here for at least four hundred years, and it was located deep in the barren lands on the northern slope of Raven Ridge. Besides him, who had stumbled upon it by chance, who else could have reached this place?

“Help me… help me…”

The cries for help continued, growing clearer, and Harvey confirmed they were indeed coming from beneath the ground under his feet.

Rainer stood in front of Harvey, holding his weapon that sizzled with fire. The gaping mouth in his skull and his metal jaw trembled, making a horrifying clattering sound.

“L-Lord, this place is haunted! We should run!”

Harvey swallowed hard and used his foot to brush away the dust and debris piled on the floor.

It revealed a square cellar door. On top was a round indentation where a ring handle to lift the cover should have been, but it had long since rusted away.

Rainer also stomped on the door, producing a dull thudding sound.

“It’s hollow underneath, Lord.”

Harvey nodded, calming down. “Find a way to open it, Rainer.”

Rainer crouched down, extended his metal arm, and tried to pry at the crack around the door, but it didn’t budge.

It was a stone door designed to be opened from below; there must have been an additional locking mechanism on the underside.

Seeing he couldn’t pry it open, Rainer simply clenched his fist and slammed it down hard on the door.

Bang! A loud crash echoed, and a fine cloud of dust filled the room.

A small crack appeared in the stone slab.

Rainer didn’t stop, continuing to rain powerful, heavy blows from his metal fist onto the slab.

After dozens of punches, he finally heard a sharp cracking sound as the stone door shattered into several pieces and fell into the dark cellar below.

Harvey tossed another light-emitting magic stone into the cellar. He watched it land and roll a few times, illuminating a part of the dark space.

“Lord, I’ll go down and take a look first.” After Harvey nodded his approval, Rainer immediately leaped into the cellar.

“How is it, Rainer? Find anything?” Harvey felt a little anxious. He leaned over the edge and called down to Rainer.

There was no response.

“Damn it, could there be a well-preserved magic trap in this cellar?” Harvey’s heart tightened. He immediately grabbed the edge of the opening and jumped in after him.

As soon as he landed and stood up, he saw Rainer’s tall figure standing motionless a short distance away, his back to him.

Harvey walked closer, holding his light source, and looked past Rainer in the direction his own magic stone was illuminating.

In an instant, just like Rainer, he was stunned frozen.

It was a huge, translucent, pale yellow piece of an amber ore, embedded in the wall.

The terrifying thing was, inside this massive, transparent piece of amber…

…was a slender humanoid figure. Through the crystal, he could faintly make out that the figure’s eyes were closed. Its pale face was lifelike, and its limbs were slightly contorted, as if in its final moments it had been struggling desperately to escape the amber.

“Is… is it still alive?” Rainer finally came to his senses and asked, his voice trembling.

“I don’t know,” Harvey murmured. He unconsciously placed his palm against the surface of the amber, and a warm sensation spread from his hand.

“Help me!”

The voice came from within the amber again.

Harvey looked up and saw that the contorted person trapped inside, whose eyes had been tightly shut…

…were now open.

Chapter 22: The Person Trapped in Amber

“Help me…”

Harvey stared in disbelief at the translucent amber crystal and the strange human figure trapped within.

The man clearly hadn’t opened his mouth, yet the cries for help continuously flowed into Harvey’s and Rainer’s ears.

How long has he been trapped in there?

Is he human, or some other intelligent race?

Harvey didn’t dare to act rashly. What if this strange person in the amber harbored ill intentions toward him after being freed?

With just a novice Spellcaster like himself and an alchemical body like Rainer, who lacked combat experience, he wouldn’t even know how he died.

Harvey cautiously had Rainer hold up the light-emitting magic stone while he circled the amber crystal, observing it carefully.

In terms of appearance and physical structure, he indeed looked human, but humans didn’t have such a pale, handsome, and androgynous face.

His figure was slender and lanky. Could he be an Elf? Hmm, it could also be due to long-term confinement and malnutrition.

No, that’s not right. Whether High Elves or Forest Elves, I’ve never heard of any with such blood-red eyes.

No scales on his skin, no horns on his head. Hmm, not a Demon either.

“Stop… staring…, I’m… human.”

The person trapped in the amber turned his eyeballs with difficulty, his gaze following Harvey’s movements.

“Whoa! He can say more than just ‘help me’!” Rainer exclaimed in surprise.

Harvey realized that it seemed only the man’s eyes could still perform the most basic of movements.

“Can you hear us speaking?”

The amber man blinked slowly, confirming that he could.

“Who are you?”

The other person’s pupils slid upward as he struggled to roll his eyes. How was he supposed to answer such a question with only his eyes?

Harvey paid no mind to the man’s expression and continued his questioning. “Do you want us to break this amber to free you?”

The amber man blinked rapidly, his pupils conveying an expression of terror and unease.

It seemed that breaking the amber directly would cause him fatal harm, or even lead to his death.

“If we’re to find a way to save you, how can we be sure you won’t bear us any ill will after you’re free?” Harvey pressed on, relentlessly questioning to probe the man’s true intentions.

The man shut his eyes abruptly, his eyelids trembling slightly as if he were thinking of a way to prove himself. Then, he opened his eyes and strained to look downward, seemingly trying to guide Harvey’s observation.

Harvey followed his gaze, pressing his face almost against the amber crystal to peer inside.

Only then did he discover with a start that the lower half of the man’s body was not only bizarrely twisted but had also fused to some extent with the amber crystal.

Was he parasitic to the amber, or was the amber slowly devouring his body?

“Take me… away… this place… a nest…”

The amber man didn’t open his mouth, but the words came out with slow difficulty.

Harvey jolted in fear upon hearing this. A nest? What kind of creature’s nest was this?

He immediately turned and ordered Rainer, “Quick, find a way to pry this amber loose. We need to leave, now.”

Rainer nodded, stepped forward, and pulled out his short knife, tentatively inserting it into the crack where the amber was embedded in the wall.

Fortunately, due to an earthquake or the collapse of the Mage Tower, this section of the wall was already fragile and on the verge of crumbling. The two of them managed to remove the coffin-sized crystal completely without much effort.

Rainer secured it with a sturdy rope interwoven with metal threads, then tentatively lifted it, finding it wasn’t particularly heavy.

So he dragged the amber crystal out of the cellar, crossed the broken stone beams, and left the bottom of the Mage Tower.

Just as they were about to exit through the ruined main gate of the Mage Tower, a slightly anxious voice came from the amber crystal on Rainer’s back.

“No… sunlight…”

Harvey poked his head out to look. The sky was overcast and cloudy, looking as if a downpour was imminent.

“Don’t worry, there’s no sun. How long has it been since you’ve seen the light?” Harvey took off his outer robe and covered the amber with it, then had Rainer summon the alchemical beasts waiting at the bottom of the pit to help carry the crystal out.

The hunter, Pierce, slid down nimbly from a tree branch and circled the crystal on Rainer’s back, clicking his tongue in amazement.

“My goodness, such a huge gemstone! Sir, are we rich?”

Harvey was speechless. “Cut the crap. Let’s get out of here and head straight back to the manor!”

The three quickly packed up. With Rainer carrying the crystal and Pierce and the Wolf Spider alchemical beast clearing the path ahead, they left the suspected ruins of the ancient Mage as quickly as possible.

…

By the time they returned to the manor, it was late at night.

Because Rainer had been running with a heavy load for so long, the Charged magic stones he carried were almost completely depleted. For the last stretch of the journey, they only made it because Harvey was desperately recharging him while frequently swapping out the magic stones.

“Phew~ With my strength right now, if I went to the docks to look for work, I could put all the movers out of a job instantly!”

Rainer carefully set down the amber crystal, then sat down with his legs spread beside “Unit Zero,” and began to check his various metal joints for excessive wear.

“You’ve really got ambition!” Pierce mocked mercilessly. “If I had such a powerful body and strength, I’d go to the Evil Moon Mountain Range and join the Demon-Hunting Knight Order. Maybe I could even slay a few Demons and become a Noble lord!”

Although he didn’t spare Rainer with his words, his body was quite honest as he ran over, took a charging cable from the alchemical instruments, and thoughtfully plugged it into the port on Rainer’s waist.

Harvey ignored their daily bickering. His entire focus was now on the amber crystal.

“Alright, I’ve managed to get you out of there.” He gazed at the person in the amber and said, getting straight to the point, “Now it’s time to discuss how to free you, and… the matter of appropriate compensation.”

In truth, Harvey had already figured out how to handle this issue on the way back.

The simplest method, in fact, was to sign a Magical Contract beforehand, clearly stipulating that neither party could harm the other and that both would be compelled to fulfill the agreed-upon terms.

Violating the contract would result in a backlash from the Magic Net’s energy. This kind of corrosive damage on a mental energy level was something no one could withstand, unless they were a legendary-level Spellcaster.

The problem to solve now was how to obtain the blood required to sign the contract, and the other person’s true name.

“What… do you… want… as compensation…”

Harvey smiled. “You must have been trapped in this crystal for a very long time, so long that perhaps even you can’t calculate it anymore. It’s alright, after I rescue you, we can have a good long chat about these things.”

At this thought, the corners of his mouth couldn’t help but curl up slightly. “Therefore, the reward I want is knowledge… and all the history you know.”

The amber man blinked slowly, showing a hint of confusion and doubt.

“Just… that?”

“Yes. If you agree, we’ll start thinking of a way to separate you from the amber immediately.”

The man was silent for a long time before he slowly replied, “I… agree.”

He turned his eyeballs again to look at his lower body, half-melted into the amber, his eyes filled with an indescribable bitterness and despair.

“But… the chances… are not… good.”

Harvey waved his hand and patted the amber gently in a reassuring manner. “Don’t worry. I will consider all possible contingencies, and I can guarantee that even if the separation fails, there is a final emergency measure.”

The so-called emergency measure was, of course, soul transfer.

Therefore, before beginning the separation, he first needed to prepare a suitable alchemical body.

And… a set of piercing tools that could penetrate the amber crystal to draw the man’s blood.

Chapter 23: An Unexpected Problem During the Extraction Surgery

Rainer raised his arm, activating the sharp, magic-powered metal probe installed in his tool socket.

Following the points Harvey had marked on the amber beforehand, he slowly pierced the interior of the crystal.

The amber ore, which looked incredibly hard, unexpectedly allowed the probe to penetrate without any resistance, and it didn’t shatter.

“It’s like gelatin wrapped in a fragile shell.” Harvey closely monitored Rainer’s movements, ready to tell him to adjust the angle of insertion at any moment.

The probe went deep inside the crystal, directly touching the man in the amber’s upper arm, then plunged into his body without pausing.

The man’s tightly shut eyelids twitched slightly, as if he could tolerate this level of stinging pain.

“Alright, that’s enough blood.”

Harvey took out the pre-drafted contract, unfolded it, and showed it to the man in the amber for his inspection.

“So, you can tell me your name now.”

“My name is… Astaren.”

Harvey’s hand, about to sign the contract, paused. The man had no surname, which was very strange.

However, only a true name would match a person’s blood and allow the Magical Contract to take effect.

So he wasn’t worried that the man would make up a false name to deceive him; that would be pointless.

As the drop of blood on the parchment merged with the name, the Magical Contract emitted a faint wave of energy. The text written on it solidified on the surface as if engraved, no longer able to be erased or altered.

Harvey put away the contract and patted the amber crystal lightly.

“A pleasure doing business with you! Er, Mr. Astaren.”

He then pointed to Rainer beside him and introduced him seriously, “Next, my assistant, Mr. Rainer, and I will begin the attempt to extract you from the crystal.”

Astaren blinked. “Then… let’s begin.”

“I know you’re in a hurry, but please give us some time to explain the specific procedure for the extraction.”

Harvey explained gently, “This is, er, your right to informed consent for the surgery.”

“First, I’ll have Rainer use a Scorching Ray to cut and melt the surface of the crystal,” Harvey said, pointing to the welding torch installed on Rainer’s arm as he explained to Astaren.

“But the ray’s temperature is extremely high, so we can’t cut the parts near your body, as that would harm you.” He turned around and picked up a metal wire, as fine as a horse’s mane, from the workbench.

“So, for the inside of the crystal, I will use a magic-powered, er, this kind of wire saw to do the cutting.”

Harvey nodded to Rainer, signaling him to begin. “Rest assured, Rainer’s hands are very steady.”

“We’ll start with the head area.”

…

As the welding torch in Rainer’s hand touched the crystal’s surface, both the man inside the amber and those outside seemed to hold their breath.

A faint, yellowish smoke arose from the point of contact, without any unusual smell.

The flame gradually embedded itself into the crystal.

Fist-sized chunks of amber crystal were neatly cut away, falling to the floor.

The shattering collapse that Harvey had expected did not occur. The outer crystal was quickly stripped away, revealing a more fragile inner core.

It was now less than half a forefinger’s depth from Astaren’s body.

Rainer removed the welding torch and replaced it with the new wire saw Harvey had made. He activated it with magic, causing the saw to move back and forth at high speed with a buzzing sound.

The ghostly blue soul-fire in the metal skull’s eye sockets constricted and focused like pupils—a typical sign of Rainer’s extreme concentration.

When all the crystal enveloping Astaren from the shoulders up was completely removed, the man sealed within finally opened his blood-red eyes as if reborn.

“Thank you… I don’t know how long it’s been… since I’ve smelled the myriad scents of the air.”

He finally spoke, his pale, handsome face showing a hint of a daze.

Harvey saw that he was in acceptable condition, with no terrifying mutations appearing from his sudden exposure to the air.

“How are you feeling now?”

Astaren moved his neck with difficulty, as if it had long since rusted. Seeing that his body from the shoulders down was still encased in the heavy amber crystal, he gave a wry smile.

“Right now, I feel like I can’t move.”

This man, who was presumably from an ancient era, had a decent sense of humor.

Harvey complained silently in his head and gestured for Rainer to continue cutting away the other parts, while he himself tried to chat with Astaren for a bit to distract him.

“I’m very curious, Astaren. How did you get sealed in this amber ore?”

A blank look appeared in Astaren’s eyes. “I… I don’t remember either…”

He paused. “When I woke up, I was already sealed in this crystal. As for how much time has passed, I can’t recall. I was asleep most of the time.”

Harvey said with surprise, “Then how did you send out a distress signal? And how did you know we had entered that collapsed stone tower?”

Astaren gave a wry smile. “I was woken by an earthquake. As for the distress signal…” He looked down at his neck. “This magic accessory I’m wearing allows me to perceive my surroundings and communicate with others through my thoughts.”

A magic accessory controlled by mental energy. So that’s how it was.

“Is there anything you want to know from me?” Harvey felt that helping the other party quickly get familiar with his current situation was a good way to build rapport.

Astaren was silent for a moment, then asked hesitantly, “What… what year is it now?”

“The Year of Glory, 581,” Harvey answered calmly. “It’s been four hundred years since the Dragon War.”

“Year of Glory? The Dragon War… Four hundred years…” Astaren murmured to himself, seeming still confused.

He seemed to suddenly remember something and looked at Harvey with some urgency, his lips trembling slightly as he asked, “Do you know of the Kingdom of Eternal Night? And… and the Sacred Blood Knights.”

Harvey shook his head. “As far as I know, among the seven great wizard kingdoms that currently exist on the continent, there is no such kingdom as the Kingdom of Eternal Night.”

“As for the non-human races and demons to the north, it seems their societies don’t organize themselves into polities like kingdoms.”

“As for the knightly order you mentioned, I’ve long lived in the borderlands, so I don’t know many of the titles of the war-bands. I’m sorry.”

Harvey had a faint premonition that the era this pale, surnameless man had lived in was probably no longer within the scope of history as he knew it.

Astaren calmed himself and said faintly, “If the Dragon War you speak of is the same historical event as the Glorious War I know of…”

“Then I’m afraid I’ve been trapped in this amber ore for over five hundred years…”

Seeing his mood sink further, Harvey didn’t know what to say for a moment.

If Astaren was indeed human, then being trapped in amber ore for five hundred years meant that all his relatives, friends, and loved ones had already vanished into the river of time, leaving him all alone.

For some reason, this situation gave Harvey a strange sense of empathy.

“Are you a Spellcaster, Astaren?”

“A Spellcaster?” Astaren frowned, seeming a bit unsure. “If you mean a warlock, then yes, I am.”

So in ancient times, Spellcasters were called warlocks.

Wait! Then were female Spellcasters called witches? Why were Spellcasters divided by gender instead of by type of magic?

Astaren, the self-proclaimed warlock, glanced sidelong at Harvey. “What? Are you going to report me to the Church?”

In his memory, in the era he was familiar with, wizards did indeed suffer much prejudice and hostility. The Church’s witch hunters would hunt or expel them at will under the pretext of blasphemy.

Harvey was taken aback for a second. “What? Why would I report you? I’m a Spellcaster—er, a warlock, too.”

A slight smile played on Astaren’s lips. “It seems you’re very good at hiding yourself and evading pursuit.”

He then glanced down at the alchemical creature, bent over and intently cutting the crystal, and couldn’t help but express his admiration.

“Your alchemical servant is also very… er, ah!” He was halfway through his sentence when his brow suddenly furrowed and he cried out in pain. “Ah! It hurts! Stop! Stop!”

Startled, Rainer flinched and lifted the wire saw, which had already reached Astaren’s waist, looking at Harvey with a blank expression.

Astaren finally caught his breath. His already pale face took on an ashen color, and his lips trembled slightly from the intense pain.

“What happened?” Harvey was shocked, too. He quickly looked down to examine where Rainer had been cutting and saw that it hadn’t touched Astaren’s body.

Astaren took two heavy breaths, glanced down below his waist, and as if understanding something, began to laugh wryly.

“Heh, no wonder it felt like that strange saw was cutting right into my body.” He looked up at Harvey, his face a mask of despair and self-mockery.

“My body… I’m afraid it has fused with this piece of amber ore…”

Chapter 24: Half-Blood Vampire

At night, Harvey and Rainer were hunched over the workbench, intently studying the blueprints for cutting the amber ore.

“Sir, I’ve already marked all the parts for removal that aren’t integrated with Mr. Astaren’s body.”

Rainer scratched his smooth, metallic forehead, looking troubled. “But the core section below his waist can’t be cut at all. The pain would kill him…”

“I suspect it’s not amber ore at all.”

Harvey slapped a hand on the blueprint and muttered to himself, “A mineral that can fuse with flesh and blood… could it be alive itself?”

But it wasn’t a parasitic or consumptive fusion. There were no signs that Astaren’s body below the waist had been devoured; it still maintained the shape of a normal human physique.

As long as it wasn’t being cut by a sharp tool or burned by fire, he felt no discomfort at all, merely an inability to move freely.

“Sir, if there’s really no other way, then…” Rainer decisively raised his hand and made a chopping motion.

“Huh?” Harvey was speechless. “It’s not that simple. No one would be willing to give up their own body unless their life was at stake. Think about your own experience, Rainer.”

“What about just the lower half?” Rainer thought it was a good suggestion, eager to try. “You could build him a brand new, er, lower body. Just like me—strong, sturdy, flexible, and durable.”

Harvey shook his head with a wry smile. “Impossible. Without a soul transfer, just cutting his body in half would kill him.”

Besides, even if Astaren could survive being cut in half with the help of some enchanted, life-sustaining items, the new half-body would have immense difficulty integrating perfectly with his original flesh. His soul’s energy wouldn’t be able to activate the prosthetic’s inscriptions.

“A soul transfer moves the whole soul. It can’t be divided.”

This was an absolute truth Harvey had concluded after numerous transfer experiments.

…

After mulling it over for the entire night, Harvey decided to let Astaren make the decision himself.

After all, being trapped in the amber ore and relying on that magical accessory—which was about to run out of energy—to sustain his mental energy and life force was not a long-term solution.

Humans have basic physiological needs, after all. In his current state, Astaren couldn’t eat properly. Rainer and Pierce could only take turns feeding him small amounts of water with a dropper at night to prevent him from dehydrating.

“This is the situation, Astaren. You need to make your own decision.”

Harvey calmly explained his thoughts and suggestions, including the success rate of the soul transfer experiment and the subsequent consequences.

With Rainer as a successful precedent, he believed that if Astaren had any basic will to survive, he would likely lean toward becoming a cold, alchemical lifeform.

After listening to Harvey’s explanation with a calm expression, Astaren unexpectedly rejected his proposal.

“I will not choose the transformation, Mr. Harvey.”

“Why? You’ve been trapped here for so long. Don’t you long for freedom, for a chance to enjoy life more?”

Astaren let out a soft laugh and glanced, without a trace of mockery, at Rainer, who was sitting and recharging by the massive alchemical instrument.

“Do you really think a soul trapped in a metal body, no different from a lump of rock, is what it means to enjoy life?”

“To no longer feel warmth or cold, to be unable to taste fine food, smell the fragrance of flowers, or even feel pain…”

He took a deep breath and continued. “Although I’ve lost my memories from before and after I was trapped, I haven’t forgotten the beautiful moments of my past life. If this is the only way to live, I absolutely cannot accept it.”

Harvey nodded lightly, making no further attempt to force a change in his decision.

“If this is your choice, we have no right to interfere. However, we will still do our best to find a way to get you out of this damned rock.”

Astaren blinked, feigning a relaxed air. “Of course. Just as long as you don’t make me suffer too much.”

Although he didn’t have much hope of being freed, Astaren didn’t want the efforts of Harvey and the others in rescuing him from the ancient ruins to go to waste.

For the next two days, he did his best to recall his past, recounting to Harvey the history he had personally experienced and all his knowledge of ancient sorcery, which Harvey recorded without reservation.

Everything he recounted drastically subverted Harvey’s understanding of the world.

Previously, all he knew was that humans had founded the Seven Great Wizard Kingdoms and formed an alliance with the Elves, Dwarves, Demons, and Orcs to fight against the rule and enslavement of the dragons.

After about three centuries of relentless struggle, they successfully ended the dragons’ tyrannical rule over the continent.

But what followed was the dissolution of the racial alliance. Tensions between humans and Demons escalated, sparking the War of Broken Oaths that lasted for centuries.

The Federation of Casters rose abruptly during this period. Independent of the wizard kingdoms’ rule, it leaped to become the most powerful organization of Spellcasters on the continent and humanity’s strongest sword and shield against the Demon invasion.

From then on, the Federation, the Radiant Church, the wizard kingdoms, and the mortal nobility—these four powers—began to jointly rule the vast, fertile continent south of the Spine of the Continent Mountains.

But the true history Astaren recounted, which he had personally experienced, took a completely opposite turn at several crucial junctures.

Before the Federation appeared, Spellcasters—then still called wizards—were declared by the Church to be evil and blasphemous. The mortal nobility commanded witch hunters and inquisitorial knights, who had awakened the power in their bloodlines, to carry out a bloody hunt against all wizards.

Some powerful wizard organizations of that time mounted a strong resistance. A few human kingdoms that openly supported wizards even went so far as to expel the Church and recruit wizards on a massive scale.

It wasn’t until the all-out war between humans and Demons erupted that the conflict between them gradually eased, forcing them to join hands against the foreign invasion.

But Astaren’s family, unlike other wizard organizations, did not choose to integrate into the political systems of mortals and rule nations alongside the nobility.

This great wizard family chose to live in seclusion, far from human kingdoms, to ensure the purity of the wizard bloodline.

The entire family migrated to the northern lands, crossing the towering Spine of the Continent Mountains and the vast barren lands to establish a wizard kingdom named the City of Eternal Night.

In such a conservative and reclusive environment, there were occasional mavericks who strayed from the orthodox path of wizardry.

Just like in all the cliché romance novels.

Astaren’s father fell in love with a woman who did not have wizard blood.

An outsider to the Kingdom of Eternal Night, a survivor of the Vampires, who were thought to have been completely wiped out since the age of dragons.

The end of this story is obvious.

The woman who had tainted the bloodline was imprisoned, and the wizard who had forsaken tradition was executed.

The only surprise was that Astaren was born—a half-breed of human and vampire.

He was secretly sent away from the City of Eternal Night and raised in a wizard’s vassal territory by his father’s apprentice assistant.

He awakened the innate talents of a vampire and also learned the knowledge of a wizard.

Until a great cataclysm descended upon the City of Eternal Night, destroying the entire city, and the Demons seized the opportunity to invade.

Astaren was taken by his father’s apprentice, and they fled south…

As for his memories after that, they were all lost to the river of time due to his long imprisonment.

After hearing his story, Harvey fell into a long, deep thought.

“So, you don’t even know yourself what kind of accident led to you being trapped in the amber ore?”

“Gods, to think that the vam… er, the vampires, from the legends—the ones who were supposedly wiped out—actually have survivors, and they’ve been hiding in the barren lands of the far north.”

Harvey felt as if a living, breathing fossil was right in front of him.

As far as he knew, one of the crucial spell components required to cast many long-lost legendary-level forbidden spells was vampire blood.

And he had actually drawn such a precious substance just to smear it on a Magical Contract.

No matter what, he had to find a way to properly persuade this rare, half-blood vampire.

Please, I’m begging you, don’t you dare think about dying!

Chapter 25: A Smurf Account in the Group Chat and Online Shopping

Despite the stressful lack of progress in rescuing Astaren.

Harvey still carved out some time from his busy schedule to log into the Spellcaster Forum.

He had to find a way to persuade the ancient vampire not to give up on life so easily, and at the same time, prepare a suitable alchemical body for him in advance.

Procuring one at the last minute was definitely unrealistic. The number of substandard products from the Alchemical Exploration Society that flowed into the market each year was minuscule.

Coupled with the pressures of the war, it was difficult to get a complete alchemical body, even through Ashe’s network.

The only way was to make a comfortable online purchase through the platform he had founded himself.

But the forum members all communicated using anonymous handles. Although Harvey knew for a fact that he had invited members of the Alchemical Exploration Society to join, he had no idea who they were.

His only choice was to wait for the online meet-up, use his smurf account to post a purchase request, and offer a high amount of points to entice the other party to make a deal.

Some time ago, he had also posted a request in the “Information Exchange” section, seeking to purchase an artifact that could assist with mental energy.

Several forum members had left friendly replies.

But because Harvey’s request was too vague, and the field of research related to the Plane of the Magic Net was too profound and niche…

…there hadn’t been a single truly satisfactory answer.

“In reality, I may be a novice spellcaster, a total rookie, but on the forum, my identity is that of a powerful caster engaged in Magic Net research!”

Looking at the messages from members who, despite being unable to provide an answer, were subtly showering him with praise both overtly and covertly.

Harvey felt a little inflated with pride for a moment.

…

The clock’s hands turned to nine, and on the Magic Net Forum, several member “handles” began to glow faintly one after another.

[Hand of Elements: Good evening, everyone!]

It was the ever-sociable Elemental Mage again, taking the lead with a greeting. The other members quickly followed suit.

Harvey didn’t rush to post with his “smurf account.” As was customary, the first half-hour of the meet-up belonged to the members who enjoyed engaging in heated academic discussions.

In short, let the “contrarians” speak first.

[Man in the Mirror: I want to thank Mr. Son of Flame for the auxiliary artifact he provided. It has been a great help to the progress of my experiments.]

[Frost Giant: What type of artifact? How many points did he sell it to you for?]

[Man in the Mirror: A necromantic artifact rich in death energy. I believe it’s at least a mid-level artifact, so we agreed on a price of 50 points.]

[Frost Giant: A mid-level artifact? Do your points grow on trees? I think you got ripped off.]

[Son of Flame: Bullshit, Giant! If you have one, why don’t you sell it?!]

[Earth’s Favored: Points are indeed very precious to us right now. I spent all the points I’ve accumulated over this period to exchange for a spell matrix of extremely high research value from Mr. The Scorching Sovereign.]

[Earth’s Favored: Here, I would also like to once again thank Mr. The Scorching Sovereign for his selfless sharing.]

[The Scorching Sovereign: Heh, I was merely following the principle of equivalent exchange.]

[Heart of the Forest: Everyone, have you all tried the online… real-time trading offered by Mr. Administrator?]

[Man in the Mirror: A genius concept and invention! My respects to Mr. Administrator!]

[Heart of the Forest: I’d like to ask Mr. Administrator if he could publicly share the principles behind this spell matrix. I know this might be asking too much, but I wonder what price would be required to obtain it?]

[Earth’s Favored: I agree!]

[Ghost Captain: I strongly agree!]

[Frost Giant: Hmph! You all should rein in your greedy expressions. How could Magic Net teleportation technology of this level be shared so casually? Are any of you truly able to afford the price to obtain it?]

Harvey watched the messages flash and scroll by, feeling a secret thrill of satisfaction.

This Mr. Frost Giant seemed to be mocking the other members, but he was actually trying to goad me, wasn’t he.

[The Scorching Sovereign: I can offer the spell matrix for a seven-circle elemental spell in exchange. It is a modified spell of my own creation. I wonder if Mr. Turing would be interested?]

Holy cow! The Scorching Sovereign is a Legendary Caster!

Or, at the very least, there’s a Legendary Caster behind him who can create or modify high-circle spells!

Is he a high-ranking member of the Federation?

All the forum members were secretly shocked. A modified seven-circle spell was indeed a bargaining chip of extremely high value.

If the spell was a combat type, its value could probably surpass that of a standard eight-circle spell.

It was a bargaining chip that would tempt any spellcaster.

Harvey looked at this message from the member and was, of course, extremely tempted himself.

The standard spells available for public study in spellcaster academies or mage organizations were mostly limited in function and mediocre in power.

But newly created or modified spells often possessed immense research value and magical power, which was also a testament to the incredible worth of a Legendary Caster.

The problem was, even if this monumental fortune was handed to Harvey for free, he wouldn’t be able to learn it!

He was just an unremarkable Junior Necromancer with ordinary aptitude.

He hadn’t even finished inscribing the matrix for a three-circle instant-casting spell in his sigils!

[Administrator Turing: Heh, it’s not that I’m unwilling to share this knowledge with everyone. It’s just that this spell matrix originates from my unique perception of the Magic Net and is deeply bound to the forum’s projection within it. Others cannot replicate it.]

As expected! Mr. Administrator is also a legendary-level caster!

When everyone saw the Administrator’s tactful refusal, they weren’t surprised and found it perfectly reasonable.

His meaning was clear: even if I gave you the technology for free, you wouldn’t be able to use it, so don’t even dream about it.

Fell Hoden, under the handle “Son of Flame,” looked at the message, keenly catching a hint hidden behind the words.

“He must have used his own powerful mental energy to create a separate Magic Net projection within the positioning sigils, thereby establishing this forum, and used that as a foundation to develop instant teleportation technology that’s ahead of its time!”

“But why would such a mysterious and powerful being establish this anonymous forum?”

“He even encourages members to communicate freely and actively share magical knowledge…”

Just as he was deep in thought, a new member “handle” popped up, interrupting Fell’s train of thought.

[Kel’Thuzad: Everyone, I’m looking to purchase a brand-new alchemical body, either auxiliary or combat type is fine. Preferably a version custom-made by the Alchemical Exploration Society for the Federation.]

The Quinn brothers, their heads huddled together as they stared intently at the forum messages, were stunned for a moment and subconsciously glanced at each other.

“Is this a colleague from our Exploration Society?”

“Unlikely. Otherwise, why wouldn’t he be able to get his hands on an alchemical body? He’s probably a freelance alchemist.”

“Probably planning to research Life Alchemy as well.”

The two nodded in unison. As they looked at the handle “Kel’Thuzad,” their eyes filled with immense sympathy.

Compared to mages, alchemists as a group didn’t have as many rigid factional divisions or the tendency to hoard knowledge. They preferred to form research groups and organizations of various sizes to freely share their alchemical results and formulas, and they generally held more goodwill toward their peers.

Every year, the Alchemical Exploration Society would select talented alchemists and provide them with a certain amount of funding and materials for their experimental research projects.

Ofre himself, at the alchemy academy, had also provided free funding to many apprentice alchemists who weren’t his own disciples, helping them complete the development of their alchemical formulas and experimental inventions.

“This poor freelance colleague is on the same research path as us,” Ofre lamented. “But without an organization or a research team, his experimental progress is probably much more miserable than ours…”

Ed nodded in deep agreement. “Indeed. A truly unfortunate alchemist…”

The two fell silent for a moment, then decided, almost in perfect unison.

“We’ll give him a brand-new model of alchemical body!”

Chapter 26: The Witch Hunter Returns to His Old Profession

Geoffrey had not been happy lately.

Although his father had made a deal with the evil Necromancer, selling his own corpse after death for an unimaginably high price, and left him an inheritance sufficient for him and his sister to live comfortably, a sense of indignation lingered in his heart, along with a hint of… unsatisfied resentment.

Those Mage Lords from the Federation, and even the Priests from the Church who had always been so merciful, had actually sided with the evil Necromancer, turning around and accusing him of greed.

He had originally pinned his hopes on Lord Burke, who loathed Necromancers, to see that justice was done for him.

But all he got for his efforts was the man’s fury and a heavy slap that knocked out several of his teeth.

Of course, Geoffrey didn’t dare show his resentment to their faces, let alone cause trouble for the Mage Lords. He was just a lowly commoner with no background; besides drunkenly cursing them under his breath at a tavern’s gambling table, there was nothing else he could do.

After migrating to Grizzly Keep with the noble lords’ caravan, Geoffrey used the excuse that as the eldest son, he was entitled to a larger share of the inheritance. He sent his sister, who had been pestering him to divide the family assets, on her way with a few gold pounds, persuading her to take the money and run off with the squire she’d already been involved with.

Grizzly Keep was much more prosperous than Jackdaw Town, and he lost himself in the city’s endless taverns and gambling dens.

In just a few days, he had squandered the entire sum his father had earned by selling his corpse.

At night, Geoffrey lay in the tavern room he was renting, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. He heard footsteps approach his door, followed by the sound of the bolt moving. Someone quietly entered.

“Who’s there?” he asked, his voice trembling in the darkness as he fumbled for a small knife at his waist, his eyes narrowed.

“Don’t move, and don’t shout,” the intruder threatened in a low voice. But Geoffrey recognized the voice. It was the acolyte from the Jackdaw Town church, Stany Kane.

“Is… is that you, Mr. Kane?”

A candlestick flared to life, its dim yellow light illuminating the room.

The church acolyte, Stany, removed his gray-black cloak and pulled a chair over to sit in front of Geoffrey.

“I have something to talk to you about, Geoffrey.” He habitually scratched his chin, where a long, ghastly scar marred the otherwise gentle demeanor expected of a church acolyte.

“What can I do for you?” Geoffrey obediently put away his knife, his eyes glancing at the sharp, unsheathed sword hanging at the man’s waist.

“You’ve been to the manor of that Necromancer, Harvey, haven’t you?” Stany asked in a low voice.

“Y-yes. Because of my father, everyone in town knows about it…”

The acolyte cut him off impatiently. “Cut the chatter. I need you to lead the way. We’re going to that manor.”

Geoffrey jumped, stammering, “Wh-what? Why… why do you need me to take you?”

Stany sneered. “What? Are you scared? Don’t you want to avenge your father?”

Every word Geoffrey had slurred in the tavern while drunk had reached his ears.

“D-don’t tell me, you’re planning to go after that Necromancer?” Geoffrey’s stutter returned whenever he was nervous, and he struggled to form a complete sentence.

“I won’t make you do it for free. When this is over, I’ll find you a position at the church in Grizzly Keep. And there’s a sum of money for you as payment.”

He pulled a coarse cloth pouch from his belt and tossed it onto Geoffrey’s bed with a thud, a provocative grin on his face.

“Well? Are you in or not?”

Geoffrey picked up the pouch, weighed it in his hand, a flicker of resentment in his eyes. After a moment of thought, he gritted his teeth and asked, “You just need me to lead the way?”

Stany nodded in confirmation.

“I’m in!”

…

Stany Kane was not a Priest who had been systematically trained and educated by the Church. He had been an orphan raised in a monastery.

His early days at the monastery were not easy, until he was chosen by the Abbot to become a prospective squire for the Army of Judgment.

After ten long years of training, a young Stany was, as expected, dispatched to the Evil Moon Mountain Range, the main battlefield between the allied human forces and the Demons, where he was tempered by the life-and-death trials of blood and fire.

After completing his tour of duty, Stany, due to his valor and accumulated merits, was fortunate enough to receive the honor of being decorated by the Archbishop in the Holy City.

There, he successfully awakened the power in his bloodline and became a glorious knight of the Army of Judgment, receiving the Archbishop’s personal tutelage.

He also learned of the Church’s sacred history, which included the truth about the century-long war between the Church and the wizards.

Those evil spellcasters, who had usurped the power and authority of the gods, were protected and indulged by the nobles, allowing them to wantonly blaspheme the great God of Glory in the kingdoms bathed in the light of the divine.

The Archbishop told him that the Divine Punishment Faction still existed within the Holy See, advocating for the expulsion of all wizards from the lands ruled by the divine, so they could face the judgment of the light.

Stany was assigned to the Order of Witch-Hunting Knights, secretly established by the Holy See, to undergo training.

He then followed the witch-hunting knights on numerous secret missions to annihilate small spellcaster organizations and wizard families.

Until the last time. They were ordered to go to the Duchy of St. Valen to ambush a group of traveling spellcasters passing through the country.

Something unexpected happened. Hidden within the group of what they thought were defenseless apprentices were two mid-rank Necromancers. They seized a moment when the witch-hunting knights let their guard down, releasing a highly lethal plague of poisonous fog and unleashing a powerful sutured corpse monstrosity in a surprise attack.

The knights suffered devastating casualties in an instant. The Knight-Captain who led them perished, taking the sutured corpse monstrosity with him.

To avoid exposing their identities and shattering the fragile alliance between the Federation of Casters and the Holy See, the remaining members of the order chose to fight to the death. Only Stany, who was pierced through the throat by a magical thorn and tumbled down a cliff, was mistaken for dead and managed to escape.

After that battle, Stany did not return to the Holy See in the Holy City. Instead, he took on the identity of a church acolyte and lay low in Jackdaw Town.

He never gave up his hatred for wizards, nor did he forget the tragic experience of his comrades’ deaths and the annihilation of his unit.

But right under the Federation’s nose, he could hardly find an opportunity to strike at those damned spellcasters.

Now, however, an opportunity had presented itself.

That arrogant and foolish Necromancer, Harvey, had the harebrained idea of staying behind in Jackdaw Town all by himself.

Before leaving for Grizzly Keep, Stany had secretly approached Harvey’s manor to observe him several times. The Necromancer had only a single alchemy golem by his side, without a single Living Corpse.

As long as he didn’t give him enough time to cast a spell, Stany believed that a surprise close-quarters attack on a novice spellcaster would be all it took. He could kill him on the spot in a matter of breaths.

As for that commoner, Geoffrey, leading the way was just a casually fabricated excuse. His real purpose was to be the scapegoat to deal with the Federation’s subsequent investigation after Stany killed the Necromancer.

A father dies at the hands of a Necromancer, and the son colludes with a mysterious outsider to break into the mage’s manor to avenge his father.

The story was perfect and would hold up to scrutiny.

As for who the outsider was? That wasn’t important.

He just needed to slightly alter his posture and keep his face covered the entire time. Even if the Federation’s investigators used a retracing spell, they would likely find nothing.

The witch hunter gripped the longsword at his waist, his eyes narrowing as he looked past Grizzly Keep’s walls in the direction of Jackdaw Town.

At this moment, only a single thought remained in his mind…

Hunt the evil wizards and restore the glory of God!

And avenge his fallen comrades!

Chapter 27: Attack in the Rainy Night

The last time he came to this manor on the outskirts of Jackdaw Town, it had been during the day.

Geoffrey vaguely remembered that this country vacation home, which once belonged to a baron, was backed by a vast orchard.

The wall, made of a stone brick foundation and a wooden lattice, was less than a person’s height. If not for the fact that the nearby townspeople and farmers all knew a Necromancer lived here, anyone could have easily climbed over to steal fruits and vegetables.

Though it was now nearing midnight, Geoffrey and the witch hunter, Stani, who were sneaking up on the manor, still didn’t dare to light a torch.

Necromancers always preferred nocturnal activities; this was their prime working time.

Following Geoffrey’s directions, Stani carefully circled the manor wall, expertly disarming all the trigger-based magical traps. This was a method he commonly used when attacking solitary Spellcasters.

This young Necromancer didn’t seem to be completely without defenses, but his methods were far too naive.

Stani sneered inwardly. It made sense, really. It was normal for commoners to fear Necromancers, but who had ever heard of a Necromancer fearing a commoner?

In their eyes, the living were nothing more than unprocessed experimental materials. They would be delighted if someone came knocking at their door.

This arrogant and foolish mindset suited Stani perfectly. In the past, he had often exploited this common arrogance among Spellcasters to ambush many a Mage apprentice and low-level Spellcaster.

The two of them quietly climbed over the fence and crept to the side wall of the manor’s small villa.

“There are no lights on in the main house. Is the Necromancer not in his room?” Stani whispered dubiously, his gloomy gaze landing on the trembling Geoffrey.

“I… I… I don’t know. The last time I was here, it was daytime. I only went into the first-floor reception hall and that spacious laboratory cellar next to it…”

Stani paused. The main house wasn’t the Necromancer’s primary area of activity?

Geoffrey stammered, adding, “His laboratory is behind the main house, near the orchard.”

The witch hunter nodded slightly, pulling Geoffrey along as they crept close to the base of the wall toward the back of the main house.

Suddenly, a low clap of thunder rumbled faintly in the sky, rolling overhead.

Stani’s heart leaped with joy. A storm was coming—tonight was the perfect time for an attack.

The thunder and rain would cover the sounds of their infiltration and wash away all their tracks.

The witch hunter slowly approached the low, spacious laboratory workshop. He stopped before a closed window and pulled a thin, ruler-like strip of metal from his waist, skillfully inserting it into the crack of the window frame.

With a soft click, the internal latch slid open, and the window swung gently outward.

Not even a special lock on the laboratory door and window. What an amateur!

Stani straightened up slightly and tilted his head to peer through the window. Inside appeared to be a separate storage room, its walls lined with shelves piled high with all sorts of bottles and jars.

Reassured, he pushed the window open, gripped the frame with one hand, and with a light push, vaulted silently inside.

He then turned back and dragged the clumsy Geoffrey into the storage room as well.

“I’ll go scout ahead. You wait here in this room. Don’t touch anything, and don’t make a sound.”

Geoffrey’s teeth chattered as he nodded. Sneaking into a Spellcaster’s laboratory was a suicidal act he would never have dared to even imagine in the past.

Not to mention the ghastly white skulls on the shelves and the unknown fleshy organs soaking in glass containers.

Every single thing terrified him so much his courage nearly failed him, his legs turning to jelly, unable to move.

Stani had no time to coddle this disposable scapegoat. He drew the sheathless longsword from his waist, pushed open the storage room door, and stepped out quietly.

This laboratory workshop was much larger than he had imagined. Aside from the two separate storage rooms at one end, all the other windows in the workshop were sealed with sheet metal, with only a few circular vents opened near the top of the walls.

The entire workshop was empty, with only the echo of the witch hunter’s boots on the floor.

A large number of pried-open crates were discarded haphazardly in a corner. A chaotic mess of metal pipes hung from the ceiling like withered vines, drooping down to the floor to connect to several strange instruments Stani didn’t recognize at all.

The most conspicuous of them was a massive metal cylinder standing in the center of the room, nearly five meters tall. Its heavy base was covered in dense inscriptions that were lighting up and dimming rhythmically, as if breathing.

Some sort of mechanism seemed to be running inside the metal cylinder. A continuous, low hum could be faintly heard, merging with the sudden downpour and muffled thunder outside.

The Necromancer was clearly not in the laboratory either…

Had he miscalculated? Had the man secretly left Jackdaw Town for somewhere beyond Grizzly Keep?

Stani felt a pang of frustration. If he couldn’t carry out the attack tonight…

…he would have to go through another long period of hiding and waiting for the next opportunity.

He slowly walked over to the enormous alchemical instrument, pondering how to destroy these magical items used for wicked, blasphemous experiments.

With the rain pouring so heavily, the idea of burning it all down was clearly unrealistic.

Working alone, he had no way of obtaining accelerants like Dragon’s Flame or fire oil.

He could only try to search through the Necromancer’s experiments to see if there were any familiar alchemical materials with explosive or corrosive properties that he could use.

Just as he was about to begin his search, a metal cover on the floor not far away suddenly flipped open.

The witch hunter’s eyes narrowed. He immediately and silently rolled behind the metal cylinder, gripping his longsword tightly as he stared ahead.

…

“Phew… I have to come check the underground storeroom before every storm. Otherwise, by morning, all these Living Corpse conversion materials will be soaked into human-shaped pancakes.”

Harvey muttered in annoyance, clumsily climbing out of the cellar.

He pushed a sheet of iron, which had been placed beside the cover beforehand, and squatted down to pass it into the cellar entrance.

Someone below seemed to take it from him.

“My lord, you don’t have to come down and do this yourself every time. I can handle it alone.”

The witch hunter heard another person’s voice from the cellar.

“You’re my assistant, not my apprentice. More hands make for more efficient work.”

The person on the ground was his target—the Necromancer named Harvey!

The man had his back completely exposed to him, squatting by the cellar opening and talking to the person below.

Completely unguarded!

Stani switched his grip on the longsword from his right hand to both hands, the tip of the blade aimed at the oblivious Spellcaster’s back.

He took a deep diaphragmatic breath, mustering the bloodline power within him that had weakened slightly with age.

One breath.

Two breaths.

Three—

“Who are you!” a sudden shout rang out from below, and he was spotted!

“My lord, be careful!”

Stani didn’t hesitate for a second. He sprang up from his lunge, his foot stomping hard on the ground, and used the powerful forward momentum to lunge fiercely at Harvey’s back.

Harvey only felt what seemed like a scorching wind blowing at him from behind, and his back tingled with a faint, sharp sting.

A sense of crisis, like being targeted by a ferocious predator, instantly made his scalp go numb.

He heard Pierce’s loud warning, but it was too late to make any other response.

He could only dive forward in a clumsy heap, tumbling headfirst into the cellar with a thump.

Chapter 28: Courage and the Iron Fist

Stani’s lunge had already anticipated the routes his opponent might take by rolling left or right to dodge.

The one thing he had overlooked, however, was that the Necromancer would accidentally stumble forward, diving headfirst back into the very cellar he had just climbed out of.

The sword strike he had been certain would land now missed, but the witch hunter didn’t panic in the slightest.

He twisted his ankle, his toe flicking up with practiced ease.

The cellar door was flipped up and, with a thump, slammed back into place, sealing the entrance.

He stomped a heavy foot onto the hatch, then precisely nudged the lock with the tip of his sword, securing it to prevent the two people below from lifting the door again.

Now, to deal with the one who had spotted him and warned the Necromancer.

…

Pierce did not usually carry his preferred bow and arrows when moving about the estate.

Ordinarily, he would have been asleep in his warm, soft bed by this time.

But tonight, the sky had looked ominous, as if a storm was about to break. And with Harvey and Rainer having gone to the workshop, Pierce worried they would get soaked on their way back to the main house.

Right now, he was only carrying two rain ponchos, while he himself was dressed in thin cotton-and-linen pajamas.

Though he was unarmed, years of hunting experience had honed his instincts, and he keenly felt the malice shift toward him.

He immediately dropped the cumbersome ponchos and dived behind the massive metal pillar of Unit Zero.

It was a tactic he often used in Raven Ridge when encountering black bears.

It was a pity there wasn’t a single tree in the workshop; otherwise, he could have scrambled to the top in just three seconds.

But the witch hunter Stani was no lumbering, dull-witted beast. With his knightly bloodline power activated, his speed far surpassed that of any mortal, and the cold glint of the longsword in his hand was far more terrifying to Pierce than the claws and fangs of a black bear.

He narrowly dodged the first horizontal slash. The blade crashed against the brass pillar of the alchemical instruments, letting out a deafening echo.

Clang~

Pierce felt a chill on his back; the enemy’s sword tip had still managed to tear through his clothes.

He didn’t feel any distinct pain, but he knew it wasn’t because he was uninjured. In a life-or-death struggle, the rush of adrenaline could allow a man desperate to survive to run for over a kilometer even while dragging his own entrails.

The hunter rolled and crashed into a pile of crates. Only then did he belatedly notice the warm liquid flowing down his back, soaking his torn pajamas.

Lord Harvey and Rainer were still trapped in the cellar.

And Mr. Astaren… he couldn’t move. If this brute found him, he would be a sitting duck.

I can’t run away!

A silver-white line of lightning lit up the sky, followed by a tremendous clap of thunder.

The light flashed through a ventilation window and into the workshop, illuminating Pierce’s pale, sweat-streaked face.

The hooded, robed assailant said nothing and lunged at him again. A glint of steel stabbed out from under his ribs, aimed straight for the hunter’s heart.

The strike was as fast as lightning—covert and swift.

By the time Pierce sensed it, it was too late to dodge. In desperation, he could only kick off with his legs, throwing his body backward just as a sharp pain shot through his chest.

He tumbled clumsily twice before scrambling back to his feet. Groping around, he found a crowbar and struggled into a defensive stance.

“Hmph? You actually dodged that,” the witch hunter said, kicking aside a crate in his way as he advanced step by step.

The hunter was backed into a corner.

“Who… who are you? Why are you attacking Lord Harvey? He’s a Federation Mage!”

Pierce stammered, but his eyes darted anxiously toward the metal experimental table covered with a tarp and the locked cellar door.

“Dead men don’t ask so many questions,” the witch hunter sneered, raising his longsword once more.

“Stop!” a weak voice commanded. Stani instinctively turned his head toward the source of the sound.

It came from the metal experimental table covered with a thin cotton cloth.

The witch hunter snorted, flicking the cloth away with his sword. He revealed a transparent ore the size of a coffin.

Inside the ore, a strange man was encased, with only his head exposed.

The man was frowning, glaring at Stani with fury in his eyes.

“Heh, an evil creation of the Necromancer?” The witch hunter’s brow furrowed. He couldn’t tell if this was an unfinished sutured corpse monstrosity or some other unknown necromantic experiment.

Instinctively, he swung his sword at the humanoid creature’s neck.

Astaren, unable to move, closed his eyes with a bitter smile, waiting for death.

But then he suddenly felt a warmth on his face as a spray of warm liquid splattered across it.

His eyes snapped open. He saw the hunter, Pierce, lunging in front of him, his chest pierced through by the sword. A half-inch of the sharp, cold blade protruded from his back.

“You…”

Pierce coughed up another mouthful of blood that splashed into Astaren’s eyes, but Astaren didn’t flinch or look away.

The hunter released his desperate grasp on the amber ore and slid softly to the ground.

With a tremendous BANG, the metal cellar door flew upward, smashing straight into the workshop ceiling.

Rainer launched himself out of the cellar. The once-ethereal blue soulfire in his skull’s eye sockets now blazed with a searing white light.

“PIERCE!” he roared, his voice filled with the sound of grinding metal.

Harvey had fallen into the cellar right on top of Rainer’s metal body, and the impact had made him pass out.

In his panic, Rainer had thought Harvey had been ambushed and had spent a good while checking him over before realizing there were no bleeding wounds.

This had cost him a full two or three minutes.

When he finally returned to the workshop, he was met with a sight that made him burn with fury.

“AAAAARGH! BASTARD!”

In an instant, all the inscriptions covering his alchemical body lit up. His powerful metal legs kicked off, plowing a deep groove into the hardened floor.

He charged at the witch hunter, who stood ready with his sword, and swung a fist straight at his head.

Blade met fist with a violent CLANG, sending a shower of sparks from the grinding metal in all directions.

The witch hunter’s body shook from the impact. He staggered back several steps, disbelief on his face as he looked down at the bent edge of his sword.

“SON OF A BITCH!” Rainer roared again, lunging at him without a moment’s pause.

In his extreme rage, he seemed to have forgotten even his favorite weapon, the flame welding torch, relying purely on instinct as he smashed his fists into his enemy.

A long-forgotten fear tightened its grip on the witch hunter’s throat. Others might not know it, but he was keenly aware of just how much power he, a bloodline knight, could unleash after activating his abilities.

But facing this talking, metal-armored skeleton, he felt as weak and helpless as a child.

Every punch it threw felt like facing the charge of a Demonic war beast on the battlefields of old—overwhelmingly powerful and impossible to parry.

After three punches, the overburdened longsword snapped in two with a sharp crack. With no way to dodge, the witch hunter took one of Rainer’s punches squarely on the shoulder.

The horrifying sound of shattering bone echoed through the workshop as the enemy was sent flying, crashing heavily into a pile of broken crates.

“Son of a bitch! Son of a bitch! Son of a bitch!”

The furious roars did not stop.

Lying on the ground, bleeding out, the last thing Pierce saw before he lost consciousness…

Was Rainer’s massive alchemical body, straddling the enemy, pinning him down, and smashing his fists into him again and again, until the man’s chest caved in and he was a mess of flesh and blood…

Chapter 29: A Life for a Life

When Harvey groggily awoke and staggered out of the cellar, he found the laboratory in complete disarray.

The hunter, Pierce, had been stabbed in the chest. Blood pooled on the floor around him, and he lay pale and unconscious, his life hanging by a thread.

Astaren, trapped within the amber ore, was covered in blood, his eyes shut tight, completely unresponsive.

Rainer, meanwhile, was sprawled face-down over a corpse so mangled it was unrecognizable, as if he had run out of energy and shut down from overheating.

“I used… a magic accessory to share my life force with Pierce… He can still be saved…”

Astaren’s eyes suddenly flew open, and he spoke in a weak voice.

Harvey nodded, quickly grabbing a charging cable and plugging it into the port on Rainer’s waist.

While waiting for Rainer to recharge and reboot, he rushed back to the manor’s main building, retrieved an alchemical potion with hemostatic properties from his study, and poured half of it into the deeply unconscious Pierce’s mouth, sprinkling the rest on the puncture wound in his chest.

He didn’t dare move Pierce’s body. Besides, he couldn’t find a Church Priest who could cast divine healing spells to help; everyone from Jackdaw Town had already moved to Grizzly Keep.

For non-lethal wounds, the healing potions he mixed himself could manage some effect.

But for a severe, life-threatening injury like this, there was nothing to be done aside from high-level divine healing spells.

“Astaren, how long can your life-sharing link hold?”

The half-blood vampire’s already pale face now had a faintly ashen hue.

He moved his lips with difficulty and answered in a low voice, “The magic accessory works by drawing on my mental energy to achieve the life-sharing effect. I can hold on for two more hours at most.”

Rainer had groggily come to by then. He was dazedly wiping away the blood and bits of flesh splattered all over him, seemingly yet to recover from his earlier violent outburst.

“My lord, I… did I just… did I just kill someone?” he asked, his voice trembling as he posed a question to which he already knew the answer. There was a hint of a sob in his tone.

Harvey sighed, feeling a massive headache coming on. He could only console him, “Rainer, you did it to save Pierce and Astaren. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

He was, after all, the first alchemical lifeform to possess a human mind and normal emotions, completely different from those cold, inanimate objects that acted solely on spell commands.

Harvey could understand his fear and helplessness after killing for the first time.

He was just worried that this sudden rampage might have been caused by some kind of mutation resulting from the fusion of his alchemical body and soul.

But there was no time to delve into that now. Pierce’s life was on the line, and without a ready-made alchemical body, Harvey didn’t even have the option of saving him through soul transfer.

Astaren thought for a moment, then said slowly, “There is another way. We might be able to save Mr. Pierce.”

His eyes shifted, and he looked ominously toward the storage room against the workshop wall. He said softly, “But first, we need to deal with another problem. There’s someone hiding in that storage room. I can smell him… a fishy smell…”

A Vampire’s senses were far superior to a human’s. Astaren had smelled the other hidden enemy’s location as soon as he had detected the attacker.

He was just puzzled as to why, with the fight being so intense, this person had remained hidden, never once rushing out to help his companion, instead watching as Rainer beat him to death, punch by punch.

Harvey’s expression turned grim. Though he trusted the half-blood vampire’s natural instincts, he didn’t dare to be careless.

He had no spell components on hand, so he couldn’t cast Acid Splash, Poison Fog, or Corrosion.

Nor had he yet inscribed a spell matrix for instant casting into his sigils.

As a research-oriented Spellcaster, the only offensive spell he could currently cast with an incantation was one he had just recently learned called “Spirit Shock.”

It was a second-circle mental attack spell. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t a necromantic spell, but it could be powered by death energy in a pinch.

Its effect was to plunge an enemy into a brief state of mental stupor, causing a certain degree of disruption to their mental energy and thoughts.

Considering the spell wouldn’t directly harm the enemy hiding in the storage room, Harvey didn’t forget to pick up the crowbar Pierce had dropped. He tiptoed to the door.

He used Mage Hand to push the door open while he stood to the side, chanting the incantation, ready to cast at any moment.

“Waaaah… Don’t kill me! Don’t kill me! I didn’t do anything…”

“Waaaah… It was him, he forced me… forced me to lead him here…”

A figure stumbled and crawled out of the dark room, dressed in shabby commoner’s clothes. His trouser legs were caked with mud, and his pale face was a disgusting mess of snot and tears.

Huh, isn’t that Rainer’s son, Geoffrey?

Harvey’s brows furrowed slightly as he instantly pieced together what had happened.

Geoffrey had likely never gotten over the cause of Rainer’s death. Even after the Federation’s investigation, he probably still believed that Harvey, the “evil Necromancer,” had murdered his father.

“Your original plan was to kill me? Where did you find that attacker?”

Harvey glanced at the still-recharging Rainer and questioned Geoffrey in a cold voice.

“No, no, no! I didn’t! Lord Harvey, I would never dare! It was him! He’s an acolyte of the Church, Stani! He forced me to bring him here! The whole attack was his plot!” Geoffrey rambled, trying to defend himself.

Harvey’s heart sank when he keenly caught the word “Church.”

The Church was still trying to hunt Spellcasters? They were actually disregarding the non-aggression pact they had with the Federation.

Perhaps it was only aimed at Necromancers? Or maybe just at him specifically?

Harvey didn’t know what the Federation’s branch in Jackdaw Town would think about this, but Spellcasters like Burke, who clearly discriminated against Necromancers, would probably be more inclined to gloat.

He couldn’t just let this go. He had to find a way to expose this. He didn’t care if relations between the Federation and the Church soured; quietly suffering a loss was not in his nature.

This guy in front of him had caused him trouble time and again, and now he had brought mortal danger to his doorstep. He absolutely could not be soft-hearted and spare his life. But he certainly couldn’t let him die on his estate—at least not in front of his father, Rainer.

Pretend to let him go for now, then have Pierce sneak over and take care of this problem later…

“Get out!” Harvey said coldly.

Letting Geoffrey go openly would also serve as a warning to the witch hunters lurking within the Church who bore him ill will.

After watching Geoffrey scramble out of the workshop in a panic, Harvey turned back to Pierce and Astaren on the floor.

“What was that method you mentioned, the one that can save Pierce?”

Astaren pursed his lips, seemingly disdainful of Harvey’s soft-heartedness. “Draw my blood and inject it into Mr. Pierce.”

Harvey was taken aback. Vampire blood was a high-level spell component. Even when used in alchemical potions, the ratio of supplementary ingredients had to be carefully considered.

To just inject it directly into the body of an ordinary human? Could Pierce really handle it?

“How much do you need to inject? Are there any side effects?”

Astaren said nonchalantly, “All of it. You need to draw all the blood from my body and replace Pierce’s own blood with it. Heh, you can think of it as a direct blood transfusion.”

He gave the hunter on the floor a complicated look and smiled bitterly. “As for the side effects… well, he’ll become a half-blood vampire just like me, of course. Afraid of the sun, fond of the dark, and with the occasional craving for blood.”

“And what about you? What happens to a vam… a Vampire who’s been drained of blood? How long will it take to recover? Do you need me to find some animal blood for you?”

Astaren met Harvey’s concerned gaze and smiled gently. “Have you forgotten? I was already a dying man. Yet Pierce was willing to risk his life to save me. Mortals are so careless with their own lives. It’s so foolish…”

“So, I think a life for a life is perfectly fair and reasonable. I don’t want to owe him.”

Chapter 30: The Best of Both Worlds Plan

“What? Pierce refused?” Astaren was somewhat astonished. “Does he… does he not want to live anymore?”

A thought suddenly occurred to him, and he frowned. “Does he despise Vampires? Does he not want his human bloodline to be tainted? Or perhaps, he doesn’t want to become a monster?”

“It’s not that he doesn’t want to live.” Harvey shook his head. “And he’s not prejudiced against your Vampire identity.”

“He just said that if he had to take your life in exchange for a chance to live, he couldn’t accept it.”

Astaren stared blankly, seemingly unable to comprehend this choice, and remained silent for a long time.

“I think, if you don’t want Pierce to lose his life because of you, perhaps giving him a promise that you’ll be safe and sound would be more effective in getting him to agree to this blood transfusion plan…” Harvey decided to strike while the iron was hot, doing his best to guide Astaren toward rekindling his will to live.

After all, Pierce was just an ordinary mortal of flesh and blood. Gravely injured, he wouldn’t last until the alchemical body Harvey had purchased arrived. Astaren, as a half-blood vampire, had a much stronger life force. Having him undergo the blood transfusion first to save the hunter’s life, and then holding on for the soul transfer experiment, was truly the most suitable option.

Astaren closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh. “Alright, I agree to the soul transfer plan you proposed earlier.”

He paused, then added with emphasis, “But please remember, this is to repay Pierce. Please grant me the right to choose to end my own fate at any time after this.”

Harvey was overjoyed. He stood up and said excitedly, “Of course. I will never force you to make any choice.”

…

The “Unit Zero” alchemical instrument burst into a loud operational hum.

After careful calibration, Harvey entered the Magic Net multiple times, teleporting over the pre-disassembled parts of the alchemical body in batches.

This was generously provided by the Alchemist on the Magic Net Forum known as the “Man in the Mirror.”

After the Forum exchange that night, he had suddenly contacted Harvey’s “smurf account” privately, offering to provide him with one of the Alchemical Exploration Society’s newest-developed alchemical bodies for free, though it could only be an auxiliary model.

Harvey didn’t have to pay any points, money, or materials.

During their private conversation, this “Man in the Mirror” had spoken with words full of encouragement and sympathy, repeatedly praising his passion and perseverance in experimental research. This left Harvey both surprised and delighted, but also utterly baffled.

Although he didn’t understand the other party’s true intentions, Harvey wasn’t about to question getting the alchemical body he needed most right now for free.

As soon as he received the delivery, he and Rainer began assembly without a moment’s rest.

This time, he had to complete Pierce’s blood transfusion and Astaren’s soul transfer simultaneously.

It was both an experiment and a surgery, extremely risky, with no room for error.

“Rainer, check the energy conduits on the alchemical body again.”

Harvey bustled about beside the metal experiment table. Pierce, drifting in and out of consciousness, was carefully placed lying side-by-side with Astaren.

Several metal tubes connected them, all of which converged on the massive cylindrical tower of “Unit Zero.”

Harvey’s plan was to first draw out the excess blood from Pierce’s body and then simultaneously infuse blood drawn from Astaren, performing a proportional, synchronized replacement.

This would ensure Pierce wouldn’t suffer an accident from excessive blood loss.

As for Astaren, once his blood loss reached a certain point, the soul transfer would be initiated immediately.

This would guarantee that even after the soul transfer was complete, Astaren’s body, now a corpse, could still provide the last of its remaining blood to Pierce for a short while.

In theory, it was a rescue plan that was the best of both worlds.

…

The sky gradually brightened. The thin mist that perennially rose at the foot of the mountain in Jackdaw Town’s early mornings began to dissipate.

The overnight thunderstorm had also ceased, and the air was filled with the fresh scent of earth.

Astaren felt as if he were slowly waking from a long, confusing dream. After a dizzying, world-spinning sensation passed, he tentatively tried to open his eyes.

He saw Harvey, his thin face with its heavy, dark circles right in front of his.

Turning his neck with difficulty, he saw Rainer on the other side, the metal-inlaid skull’s eye sockets flickering with a faint, blue soul fire.

“I…” He opened his mouth, finding his voice somewhat hoarse and raspy, accompanied by the scraping sound of metal against bone.

“Is Pierce still alive?”

Harvey nodded and smiled faintly. “Pierce woke up before you did. I had Rainer move him to his room to rest. He’s still a little weak right now.”

He had to admit, a vampire’s natural abilities were truly formidable. Pierce had only just completed the transfusion, yet the various wounds on his body were already showing signs of healing.

However, the fatal piercing wound in his chest had only stopped bleeding. After Rainer stitched it up, it would still need some time to recover.

At least Harvey didn’t have to worry about infection.

Astaren subconsciously propped himself up, feeling the metallic scraping sounds of the alchemical body as it operated.

He then raised his hands—forged entirely of metal, their structures precise and complex—to observe them carefully.

Rainer stepped forward and steadied his shoulder, chuckling heartily. “Mr. Astaren, you have no idea how much I envy you. This is an alchemical skeleton the master personally acquired from the Alchemical Exploration Society.”

“Compared to this cheap thing I’m using, cobbled together from old bones, it’s countless times better…”

“Look at this intricate structure, this power output, this smooth and beautiful design…”

Harvey frantically shot glances at Rainer, feeling his own facial muscles twitch.

Couldn’t this guy, Rainer, avoid bringing these things up at a time like this? He was really touching on a sore subject.

Astaren listened quietly, showing no signs of breakdown or despair.

He used the experiment table for support and slowly got to his feet, seeming a bit unaccustomed to the force with which his metal legs and feet made contact with the ground.

“You won’t be used to it at first. You might use too much force or have trouble keeping your balance,” Harvey explained softly.

“You’ll need to charge the body every six hours. When you’re moving around the manor, you can just use this Energy-Focusing Matrix.” Harvey pointed to the “Unit Zero” in the center of the room.

“If you go out, you’ll need to carry Charged magic stones like Rainer. A primary magic stone can only provide two hours of power, an intermediate one can last for six hours…”

“Uh, I’ll raise money to buy high-grade magic stones later to ensure you and Rainer can store as much magical energy as possible.”

“I’m not yet sure if you can still cast spells after the transfer. We can try after you’ve had some time to adapt.”

“You’ll need to pay attention to the inscriptions and joints on the body. If they show signs of wear or overheating, remember to tell Rainer. He’ll be responsible for applying lubricating grease and adjusting the tightness of the parts.”

Astaren seemed to be listening to Harvey’s endless, careful instructions, yet he also seemed lost in thought.

He first walked back and forth a few times in the workshop, getting used to his body’s balance and his new stride.

Then, he quickly walked to the laboratory door and, with a trace of urgency, reached out and twisted the doorknob.

The winter morning sun flooded into the room like a tide, instantly engulfing Astaren as he stood in the doorway.

The alchemical body’s brass-colored frame glittered in the sunlight.

“This is the first time I’ve ever seen the sun…” The half-blood vampire turned his head, looking at Harvey and Rainer inside the room.

Within the dark, hollow eye sockets, a deep red soul fire gently flickered.

Chapter 31: The Fragile Humanity of an Alchemical Lifeform

After returning to Grizzly Keep, Geoffrey had been hiding in his room at the inn, too scared to go out.

Although he hadn’t personally taken part in the attack, invading a Spellcaster’s private territory and attempting to harm or even kill them…

Even as just an accomplice, the crime was enough to have him clapped in chains and thrown into a cold, damp prison for a good few years.

He figured the only reason the Federation hadn’t come knocking to arrest him immediately was that the Necromancer hadn’t yet shifted his attention from the attackers killed on the spot to him.

Thankfully, the Necromancer seemed to abide by the Federation’s laws and hadn’t thought to kill him on the spot. With any other Spellcaster, he probably wouldn’t have been so lucky.

A Spellcaster whose private territory was invaded and personal safety threatened had the right to retaliate against the intruders with any degree of force, even if the intruders were ordinary civilians.

Geoffrey paced his room anxiously, torn between running away immediately to hide with his sister in the countryside and turning himself in to the Federation.

Thump, thump, thump. A knock at the door made him tremble all over, his legs going weak.

Who would be knocking in the middle of the night?

Was it the Federation coming to arrest him? Or the Necromancer, here to exact his own justice and revenge?

Geoffrey’s teeth chattered. He fought the urge to jump out the window and slowly shuffled to the door.

“Who are you?”

The visitor wore a slightly worn, short hunting outfit. His hood was pulled low, partially obscuring his face. In the dim, yellow light of the inn, his exact features were unclear, only that his face was pale and bloodless.

The man didn’t appear to be carrying any weapons, which made Geoffrey feel a little better.

“Lord Harvey has decided to spare your life,” he said in a low voice. “But you need to provide two testimonies.”

Geoffrey froze, stammering, “Wh-what testimonies? I… I’ve already told Lord Harvey everything that happened.”

“A testimony that Federation investigator Burkov Connard induced you to falsely accuse Lord Harvey, and a testimony that you conspired with the Church’s acolyte, Stany Kane, to harm a Spellcaster!”

The man slipped into the room, pulled a translucent magic stone from his coat, and aimed it at Geoffrey, who was sitting in a chair.

“This is a Recording Stone. In a moment, you will repeat your accusatory testimony according to my instructions…”

Geoffrey did as he was told, not daring to resist in the slightest.

“Later, you’ll come with me out of the city. I’ll give you some money and take you to the countryside. After winter passes, take the money and leave St. Valen. Don’t ever come back to Jackdaw Town.”

A flicker of joy ignited in Geoffrey’s heart. He never expected the Mage Harvey to not only forgive his crime but also offer him money. And the only condition was not to return to live in Jackdaw Town?

Though it felt unbelievable, he obediently packed a few things and followed the visitor out of the city. They turned onto a rugged path leading up a small hill, stumbling along the difficult mountain road under the bright moonlight.

“Sir, where are you taking me? And… that money…”

He finally couldn’t help but ask, worried he wouldn’t get the promised “severance pay.”

“I’ll take you this far. Keep following this mountain road, and you’ll find a village where you can spend the night.” The man in front turned, took a small coin pouch from his coat, and tossed it to Geoffrey.

Geoffrey caught the pouch. It felt heavy in his hand. Suppressing his elation, he lowered his head to open it and count the money.

Suddenly, a gust of mountain wind blew past. Before he could look up, he felt an icy-cold hand gently grip his neck.

Crack~

Geoffrey’s eyes went wide. A brief gurgle escaped his lips as he fell backward, crashing heavily onto the ground.

The pouch, clutched tightly in his hand, fell open. The coins inside scattered across the ground, revealing not just gold pounds, but also a mix of many silver and copper coins.

“Back so soon?” Rainer asked, surprised. He was standing on a ladder, carefully performing routine maintenance checks on “Unit Zero” as he watched the hunter, Pierce, return to the manor.

The hunter stomped his feet, shaking off the mud stuck to his boots. Then he took a cotton cloth and carefully wiped away the dust.

These were new boots, a gift from Lord Harvey. They were hand-stitched reindeer leather, supposedly from the Alchemist’s Guild in the Mage Kingdom of Da’ers. Waterproof and durable, they were fine goods that only noble lords could afford.

“Of course. I don’t like to travel during the day. The disgusting sunlight burns my skin.”

Having undergone the blood transfusion, Pierce was now essentially a half-blood vampire. Although his craving for blood wasn’t as intense as a pure-blood vampire’s, his aversion to sunlight was instinctual.

He could run at full speed on his own two legs almost as fast as a horse, which was why he had volunteered to make this trip for Rainer. The round trip only took him half a night.

Besides, he no longer needed to sleep at night.

Rainer put down his tools. After a moment of silence, he mumbled, “The… the money… did you… did you deliver it?”

Pierce closed the door to the workshop. “I delivered it,” he replied casually in a low voice. “But Rainer, to be honest, I think what you did was a bit unfair to the Lord.”

“Don’t forget, the Lord saved both our lives,” he reminded him with a frown. “Especially you. Think about the suffering you went through with the Frost Plague. And now? Not only did the Lord save you, but he’s also letting you follow Mr. Astaren to learn how to read and study magic.”

“I couldn’t even dream of such treatment.” The hunter finished cleaning his boots, tossed the cloth aside, and looked at Rainer with a hint of reproach.

Rainer froze, then offered a weak, feeble defense, “I know, I know it’s unfair to the Lord.”

“But… but that’s my son, Pierce!”

He pulled over a charging cable and plugged it into his body, leaning back against an alchemical instrument as he slowly sat down.

“Since the Lord was merciful enough to let him go, and never once brought it up with me or blamed me… I just hope he can live a peaceful and law-abiding life from now on.”

“That… that money… I saved it up in my spare time… by making little trinkets from the spare parts the Lord threw away and selling them to the merchant who makes deliveries to the manor every week…”

“I’ve sent him on his way. I’ll keep it a secret for you this time, but don’t let it happen again.”

Pierce sighed, but thought to himself, I’m sorry, my friend. I had to carry out Lord Harvey’s orders…

Harvey and Astaren walked side by side, strolling and chatting in the orchard along the outer wall of the manor.

“So this is what you call the… humanity… of an alchemical lifeform?” Astaren was puzzled. He didn’t quite understand Harvey’s intentions.

Wizards were different from ordinary people. They obtained power, knowledge, and lifespans unattainable by common folk. In terms of their level of existence, they were, strictly speaking, transcendent beings.

And the things wizards created with knowledge and magic—whether puppets, Living Corpses, or alchemical servants—were essentially dependents and tools, not things to which they would pay much attention.

But Harvey was clearly different. He wasn’t keen on converting Living Corpses or creating corpse puppets; instead, he had a particular fondness for intricate and complex alchemical instruments.

If it weren’t for the cellar stuffed to the brim with the corpses of vile orcs, he would have mistaken Harvey for a brilliant Alchemist.

He also paid special attention to his experimental creation—the alchemical creature named Rainer. He treated him neither as a servant nor as a weapon. Their daily interactions were like those between an employer and a subordinate, or a teacher and a student.

“You don’t understand, Astaren. I do this for two reasons.” Harvey seemed to have anticipated his confusion and explained with great patience.

“Rainer is my first successful alchemical lifeform, but he is more than just an experimental creation.”

“I believe that any object that bears a human soul should be treated as a real person.”

“Only by doing so can I stabilize my own cognition, maintain my humanity, and avoid losing myself in all that transcendent knowledge and power.”

Astaren nodded, only half-understanding. He had indeed heard of cases where many high-level wizards, and even Legendary Casters, had suffered a backlash from becoming too engrossed in the endless knowledge and transcendent power that magic brought.

But you’re just a Junior Mage! Do you really need to start thinking about these things so early?

Astaren could only make this complaint silently in his heart.

Chapter 32: The Mysterious Beetle and its Derivative Ore

Harvey suddenly remembered something and turned to ask Astaren.

“By the way, when we rescued you from the ancient wizard’s ruins, what did you mean by that ‘nest’ you mentioned?”

“That was about some strange creatures I discovered during one of my occasional awakenings…” The deep red soul fire in Astaren’s eye sockets flickered as if he were trying hard to recall.

“A strange type of beetle often appeared in the wizard’s ruins. There were a great number of them, and they seemed to swarm out from underground.”

“At first, I thought they were just ordinary colonial insects, until I discovered that their targets were actually the magic stones stored in the Mage Tower.”

“Those beetles frantically searched for items and ores rich in magical energy. They didn’t even spare the alchemical potions in the bottles and jars. As long as something contained a trace of magic, it was a target for their foraging.”

He squatted down, picked up a round, smooth pebble, and handed it to the bewildered Harvey.

“After devouring the magic energy, these insects would immediately mate and lay eggs, then die soon after, gradually transforming into spheres with a metallic luster, just like this pebble…”

Harvey froze, suddenly remembering the metallic pebbles he had pried from the ceiling of the ancient Mage’s ruins. “Wait! Come with me!”

He grabbed Astaren and dashed back to the study, handing him the bag of pebbles that he had nearly forgotten in the storeroom.

“Yes, this is what those insects transform into after they die. As for how they came to be embedded in the ceiling of the Mage Tower, I do not know,” Astaren confirmed.

Harvey poured all seven or eight of the beetle pebbles from the bag onto his desk. “I’ve tried burning them with fire, corroding them with acid, and even had Rainer try to cut them with a wire saw, but nothing could even scratch them.”

“Initially, I thought it was some kind of undiscovered, extremely dense and hard ore. I never imagined it was formed from a living beetle.”

Harvey felt that perhaps his own knowledge was too limited. He would have to find a way to ask for guidance from those erudite high-level casters at the next Forum exchange.

Astaren picked up a pebble with his metal hand, tossing it up and down casually.

An idea suddenly flashed through his mind, and he suggested with some hesitation, “Since it was transformed from a living organism, perhaps we could try to analyze it with a similar life-infused material.”

Life-infused material? Hearing Astaren’s suggestion, Harvey fell into deep thought.

…

That night, the spacious experimental workshop was brightly lit. Harvey had illuminated all the light-emitting magic stones hanging from the ceiling.

“My lord, this strange stone seems completely useless. Why are we so determined to break it down?”

Rainer had frequently switched between a welding torch, wire saw, grinding wheel, and various other tool attachments, all to no avail.

The grinding wheel had even shattered into several pieces from the immense force while trying to cut the beetle ore, nearly leaving an ugly scratch on his alchemical body.

Harvey wore a metal mask with eye pieces inlaid with hardened crystal lenses, which muffled his voice when he spoke.

“These beetles subsist on magic energy, so their byproducts must contain some residual magic. Strictly speaking, that makes it a type of magical material, just with an unknown purpose.”

As long as it was unknown, it was worth in-depth research.

Harvey had Rainer and himself operating at the metal lab bench, with Astaren observing nearby to watch for any unexpected situations.

As for Pierce, night was now his normal active time. He preferred to patrol the perimeter of the manor, catching some small animals along the way as a reward of fresh blood for himself.

Harvey used a pair of pipe wrenches made by Rainer to firmly secure the beetle ore on the metal countertop, preventing it from rolling around during the experiment.

Then, from a rack of glass test tubes, he selected one containing half a tube of pale yellow liquid.

This was an alchemical material from the Misty Mountains, an extract from the mutated Golden Trees.

Rich in life energy, it was a primary casting component for many nature-type spells.

He drew out a few drops with a dropper and carefully dripped them onto the surface of the beetle ore. The liquid slid off like oil, leaving no trace on the ore, and producing no experimental reaction.

He immediately switched to a new beetle ore and drew from another test tube containing a plant extract that was also a nature-type casting component.

Still no reaction…

Wash the ore, switch again…

Half an hour passed. All the experimental materials in the rack of glass test tubes had been tried, with no effect.

Standing beside the lab bench, Astaren felt that if he hadn’t already been converted into an alchemical lifeform, he would have probably yawned himself to sleep by now.

Harvey and Rainer, however, were still brimming with enthusiasm, one operating and the other assisting, expertly and smoothly switching between experimental materials.

They’re truly born researchers!

Harvey took off his metal mask and let out a long breath, accepting a soft towel from Rainer to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

The nature-type magical materials were completely ineffective, at least the dozen or so he currently possessed.

Was it because the casting materials were too low-level, their magic energy content insufficient?

What if, during the experiment, he used Unit Zero’s energy-focusing device to connect to the beetle ore and directly output pure magic energy extracted from the Magic Net into it?

Even magical experiments could use a “catalyst,” after all.

With this thought, Harvey decided to try it immediately. No time like the present!

He had Rainer bring over a long, thin charging conduit and used a bracket engraved with inscriptions to secure the beetle ore. These inscriptions would allow for the instantaneous input of the Magic Net’s vast energy during charging.

They had the same effect as the inscriptions on Rainer’s and Astaren’s alchemical bodies.

The experiment continued!

Rainer activated Unit Zero’s energy-focusing mode, adjusting its energy output frequency to the intensity he used for his own daily charging.

Harvey put his mask back on and observed the beetle ore, which was clamped securely in the bracket.

It worked! After the input of Magic Net energy, the ore began to vibrate slightly. Its metallic surface gradually turned transparent, revealing a strange sight within, like a flowing liquid.

It wasn’t purely solid?

Harvey moved closer to observe, but found the reaction stopped there, with no further conclusive discoveries.

“Rainer, increase the output frequency!”

“Increase it again!”

“It’s not enough, I need to see the specific reaction inside the ore!”

Rainer gripped Unit Zero’s brass control handle tightly and reminded him with some concern, “My lord, we can’t go any higher! The instrument is about to overload!”

“Use the cooling unit to bring down its temperature temporarily. Maintain the energy output!” Harvey commanded without looking up.

Rainer could only scramble to pull another lever. Several brackets mounted with Icy Magic Stones rose up and pressed tightly against the brass cylindrical body of Unit Zero.

“Push it up one more notch! The liquid substance inside the ore is accelerating!” Harvey quickly issued another command.

Rainer could only pull the handle again with a pained expression.

A fierce humming from Unit Zero echoed throughout the entire laboratory, and the main body of the machine began to vibrate slightly.

Under this immense input of magic energy, the beetle ore finally underwent the morphological change Harvey had hoped for.

The slowly flowing liquid substance inside it rapidly dissipated, and the entire ore suddenly erupted with a dazzlingly intense light as bright as day.

Harvey instinctively shut his eyes, hearing only the simultaneous warning cries from Rainer and Astaren.

“Watch out!”

“My lord, be careful!”

A violent explosion accompanied a deafening boom. Harvey felt his entire body struck head-on by a tremendous force.

It’s over! I’m dead! That was the only thought in his mind.

When he managed to force his eyes open, he found his mask had been blown off to who knows where.

Two tall alchemical bodies were lying on top of him, their broad metal chests shielding his vulnerable chest and head.

Hiss~ It felt like his ribs were broken.

“My lord! Are you alright?”

Rainer and Astaren quickly got up and began to check Harvey’s body.

“Strange? Why wasn’t I blown to bits by such a violent explosion? At the very least, I should have lost a limb or two, right?” Harvey felt his own body; all the parts were still there.

He had faced the explosion at point-blank range, so why, aside from his ribs aching from being crushed by the two alchemical freaks, was there not a single sign of injury?

…

“Son of Flame” Fell Hoden was sitting before his “Magic Brain,” his fingers dancing emotionally as they clattered rapidly across the keyboard.

He and “Frost Giant” had been engaged in a “friendly” exchange for a full three hours over an analytical research problem involving a rare casting material.

Although the entire academic exchange was filled with non-specialist terms like “dogshit,” “stupid pig,” and “low-IQ scum.”

Overall, Fell felt he had a slight upper hand.

He was just about to send a final, conclusive message, appended with a few emotionally charged words, to end this evening’s virtual magical combat, which had left him feeling vindicated and proud.

Suddenly, he noticed that his “Magic Brain,” which had been functioning normally, went dead. The inscriptions on its base all extinguished at once. On the crystal panel that displayed the messages, the mercury tadpoles that formed the text all dissipated and vanished.

Huh? What happened? The high-level caster froze on the spot.

All that content I just wracked my brain to write… was for nothing?

Chapter 33: An Unprecedented Energy Carrier

Clutching his aching ribs, which had been pinned down by the two alchemical bodies, Harvey walked over to the lab bench, now a mess from the explosion’s shockwave.

The piece of beetle ore that had exploded on the spot from overcharging was gone—it seemed to have been blasted to dust.

“Why did such a powerful blast not cause any harm when it hit a human body?”

Harvey picked up the mounting bracket that had been sent flying and muttered to himself in confusion.

“Could it be because this energy came from the Magic Net, so it was absorbed by the Magic Net during its release?”

Experiments with unknown magical materials shouldn’t be rushed. Surviving such a death-defying act was pure luck; he probably wouldn’t be so fortunate next time.

More research-oriented Spellcasters died each year from their own crazy magical experiments than battle mages did on the Demon battlefields of the Evil Moon Mountain Range.

It was better to play it safe and use the alchemical reagents in the test tubes, conducting contact analysis experiments one by one.

After all, the “brute-force method” was, in theory, the safest approach in any field of experimentation.

As long as those witch hunters from the Church didn’t come looking for trouble, time was Harvey’s most plentiful resource.

…

Pierce, with his keen hearing, was drawn by the sound of the explosion from afar and rushed back to the lab to check on things.

Astaren looked at the pale, bloodless fledgling Vampire and suddenly had a wild idea.

“Harvey, how about trying a Vampire’s blood? It’s a top-tier spellcasting component.”

Only then did Harvey recall that vampire blood was an essential component for casting high-level spells in many magical grimoires.

It was even rumored that some legendary-level forbidden spells required vampire blood as a casting or channeling component for support, the only difference being that they needed higher-quality blood from a high-ranking vampire.

Pierce heard Astaren’s suggestion, and after a moment’s hesitation, he decisively rolled up his sleeve.

“My lord, how much do you need?”

Before Harvey could answer, Astaren placed a hand on Pierce’s shoulder and chided him with the tone of a senior educating a newborn, a hint of disdain in his voice. “Did you go and feed on those disgusting animals again today?”

Pierce froze, then lowered his head and stammered, “Uh, just two weasels, Mr. Astaren.”

“I’ve told you before, stop feeding on animals that live in filthy dirt and sewers.”

“If you’re averse to drinking human blood, then go hunt some reindeer or antelope. Don’t prey on predators, and definitely not scavengers!”

The hunter nodded repeatedly, indicating that he understood.

He still seemed unaccustomed to his Vampire identity. He’d always make do with whatever was convenient to catch, reluctant to go out of his way to hunt large animals, which would only emphasize how different his life was from Harvey’s and Rainer’s.

Harvey was also glad to see that Pierce’s self-perception was still rooted in his human identity, unlike Astaren, who was deliberately trying to teach him the many historical traditions and cultural customs of the Vampires.

…

After drawing a few dozen milliliters of blood from Pierce, Harvey carefully divided it into several portions and placed them in glass test tubes.

Fortunately, they weren’t short on money. The thought of selling the blood drawn from Pierce on the Forum struck Harvey as a rather unscrupulous idea.

However, keeping some of the blood for future magical research was perfectly fine. This kind of high-level spellcasting component was so rare, even in Araye, that one could only hope to stumble upon it by chance.

After a quick cleanup of the failed experiment’s aftermath, Harvey immediately began preparing for a new round of tests.

This time, he planned to use vampire blood to try and analyze and fuse with the beetle ore.

Fearing another accidental explosion, Rainer refused to let Harvey handle the operation himself. He volunteered, pulling on an experimental face mask that was useless for him, and stood before the lab bench.

“He’s got the air of a research wizard!” Astaren simulated a sharp whistle, teasing Rainer and slightly easing the tense atmosphere.

According to the plan, Harvey was positioned five meters away from the lab bench, with Astaren standing in front to completely shield him. He would rely solely on casting the Eye of Reconnaissance to observe and guide Rainer’s work up close.

“Pierce, restart the energy-focusing device!”

The hunter nodded, pulled the lever, and reignited ‘Unit Zero,’ which had instantly shut down from the energy overload.

Harvey could only pray silently that the Forum members weren’t sharing any important knowledge in the middle of the night. Otherwise, this sudden “server reboot” would probably make them lose connection and have a meltdown on the spot.

Switching to work mode, Rainer seemed to completely discard all negative human emotions. His cast-metal arms and hands were steady, and his observation of the energy transfer was extremely precise and sharp.

He quickly brought the beetle ore to a delicate state of being fully charged but not overloaded.

Then, he picked up the test tube containing Pierce’s blood, drew out a small amount with a dropper, and dripped it onto the surface of the beetle ore, which was undergoing a violent reaction inside.

The transformation occurred at that very moment.

The ore instantly absorbed all the vampire blood that dripped onto its surface. The substance inside, which had been flowing like a liquid, solidified and came to a halt.

A few seconds later, the ore’s outer shell rapidly disintegrated as if weathered away, revealing a mass of amber gaseous matter within.

But the substance didn’t dissipate like air. Instead, it remained cohesive, floating above the mounting bracket like a miniature cloud.

Rainer froze on the spot. “What… what is this? It looks like a wad of cotton…”

He subconsciously reached out with his fingers of metal and bone, wanting to gently touch it to perceive its form.

Harvey, controlling the reconnaissance spell from a distance, had no time to shout and stop his dangerous act.

“Stop! Rainer, don’t touch—”

The moment the miniature cloud touched Rainer’s fingertip, it seemed to come alive, swiftly surging up his finger and into his body.

From his hand to his forearm, then to his shoulder… his chest, and finally converging in his head.

The gaseous mass seemed to travel up Rainer’s body consciously. Everywhere it passed, the alchemical inscriptions etched upon him lit up instantly, erupting with a brilliance far stronger than ever before.

In the eye sockets of Rainer’s metal skull, his soul fire, once a flickering, ethereal blue, instantly turned blazing white, forming a miniature, high-speed vortex.

Every inscription on his alchemical torso lit up, maintaining an unprecedented, constant glow.

Rainer felt a strange and immense energy rapidly gathering in his eyes, as if about to burst out of his body.

He couldn’t utter a word, only managing to turn his neck with difficulty and raise his head to look at the pipe-covered ceiling.

The next moment, the others saw two beams of intense light shoot wildly from Rainer’s eyes. The columns of light pierced straight through the workshop ceiling, rocketing into the dark night sky at a speed invisible to the naked eye.

Pierce rushed to Rainer’s side and helped him up from his kneeling position.

Everyone stared blankly at the enormous, clean-edged hole in the ceiling, speechless for a moment.

Rainer looked around blankly at the stunned faces of the others and said awkwardly in a low voice, “The moon is really round tonight…”

…

In the wizard kingdom of Da’ers, a high-level caster turned pale and tumbled from his chair to the floor.

He scrambled up, a look of terror on his face, and half-ran, half-crawled as he sprinted toward a room on a higher floor of the Mage Tower.

“Master! I just… just observed an unknown magical energy in the Magic Net,” he burst into the room, breathless, and yelled at the old man who was meditating on a soft couch.

“That unbelievably massive surge of energy… it… it passed right by my positioning sigil! It just grazed me!” Still shaken, he kept muttering in lingering fear.

“Just a little closer and it would have shattered my sigil… By the Arcane! I almost died.”

The old man, roused from his meditation, frowned and scolded him sternly.

“I’ve told you before, with your current abilities, you shouldn’t be trying to roam the Magic Net so casually.”

“It’s too dangerous! You could lose your life at any moment!”

Chapter 34: A Formal Complaint

The winter in Jackdaw Town passed by uneventfully.

The fierce and difficult battle to defend the manor that Harvey had anticipated never came.

Pierce patrolled the border of the mountain ridge with his alchemical beasts every day, but aside from the migrating wild animals, not a single vile orc was seen.

Astaren and Rainer even returned to the ancient Mage’s ruins, carefully searching for more beetle ore scattered in the craters.

After repeated tests, Harvey had figured out the general purpose of this strange material.

It was an incredibly potent compressed magical energy carrier, similar to a “nuclear battery.”

He believed that this energy carrier could not only be installed in an alchemical body but also allow Rainer to unleash an energy shockwave akin to a ‘ray of instant death,’ directly piercing and annihilating its target.

This power could even cross the spatial barrier between reality and the Magic Net, achieving a trans-dimensional attack without the need for a spell matrix.

It was a pity the vile orcs hadn’t returned to Raven Ridge after their retreat; otherwise, Harvey wouldn’t have minded using them as targets for a firepower test.

Not long after the snow melted, officials from the Church and the Federation were the first to return to Jackdaw Town.

Magic Affairs Inspector Burkov Connard had just walked back into town.

From a distance, he saw Harvey waiting at the entrance of the Federation branch, accompanied by that alchemy golem made of bone and metal.

“Ah, Mage Harvey, I heard you didn’t evacuate this winter?” said Donnie, a slightly balding Spellcaster, greeting him first.

Harvey smiled and nodded. “Yes, the vile orcs didn’t cross the mountains this winter. I was very lucky.”

Burkov’s brow furrowed. He shot the pair a look of faint disgust and walked past them without a word, heading for the hall.

“Wait, Mr. Burkov,” Harvey called out.

The inspector stopped and turned back, his expression turning even more impatient.

“Mr. Burkov, I think you may have forgotten the incident before winter when you came to my manor to investigate.” Unfazed, Harvey took a thin file from his coat and handed it to Donnie, who was standing nearby.

“This is the formal complaint I’m submitting to the Federation,” he explained calmly.

The slightly balding Donnie was a little surprised. He smoothed down the thin hair hanging over his forehead and politely opened the file to read it on the spot.

“This… is this… you want to file a complaint against Mr. Burkov?” After just a few glances, Donnie looked awkwardly at Burkov.

“Yes. I believe this direct accusation without any prior investigation not only violates the Federation’s operating procedures but has also brought me personal humiliation…”

He glanced around at all the members of the Federation branch standing nearby, his tone growing serious.

“And, if I recall correctly, when Mr. Burkov came to my door to inspect me, he did not present the relevant investigation permit, correct?”

Upon hearing this, the Federation members were all stunned. They subconsciously looked toward Burkov, who stood at the entrance with an ashen face.

“No, that can’t be right… I never handled any paperwork for this investigation…” muttered Donnie, who was in charge of reviewing magic affairs. He already understood that Burkov had likely acted without authorization, but he couldn’t bring himself to expose his colleague on the spot.

“Perhaps you are all unaware, but just a week ago, regarding this investigation into a spell experiment involving a commoner… the very same Mr. Geoffrey, whom Mr. Burkov considered the victim’s family member.”

Harvey paused before continuing, “He conspired with a Church acolyte to invade my Manor Laboratory and attempted to attack and kill me!”

He took out a Recording Stone and tossed it gently into Donnie’s hands.

“This contains clips from Mr. Burkov’s visit, the day of the attack, and Mr. Geoffrey’s own testimony.”

The recorded clips had been deliberately edited by Harvey, removing the footage of Rainer and the others fighting back, leaving only the scenes of Stani and Geoffrey invading the laboratory and launching a surprise attack.

An elderly Spellcaster standing next to Donnie snatched the stone and quickly activated it, projecting the images of light and shadow.

The crowd watched the blurry clips with grave expressions.

“Scum of the Church! I knew those hypocrites, so friendly on the surface, were still eyeing us like predators behind our backs!”

Someone cursed in a low voice, grinding their teeth.

Although the Federation was rife with factions and internal strife, when it came to their long-standing conflict with the Church, they would always choose to unite against a common foe.

Because every single one of them was a Spellcaster—the kind the Church had once deemed heretical, blasphemous, and evil wizards who all deserved to be burned at the stake.

This was especially true in an administrative region like St. Valen, where the Federation’s influence was weak. It was safe to say that every wizard family with a long history had lost members to the Church’s witch hunters in the past.

A blood feud that had lasted for centuries could not be easily erased by a temporary truce or treaty.

Burkov’s face was ashen as he looked at the crowd gathering around him, all of them staring at him with grave and complicated expressions.

“You… you suspect me of colluding with the Church, of being involved in an attack on a fellow Spellcaster?” He practically forced the words through clenched teeth.

The hot-tempered elderly Spellcaster stepped forward. “We don’t want to jump to conclusions, Burkov, but you need to explain this to the Federation’s high command.”

As he spoke, he slightly raised his palm, from which faint ripples of magical energy emanated.

This was a battle mage capable of instant casting. In his youth, he had fought Demons on the front lines in the Evil Moon Mountain Range and had only returned to his hometown of St. Valen on a post-retirement contract.

“I did not conspire with the Church! This is slander!” Burkov fought to keep the tremor out of his voice.

“I haven’t been convicted of anything! Are you going to move against me based on the testimony of a lowly Necromancer, Mr. Joyce?!”

Between Spellcasters of the same level, battles were often decided not by the power of their spells, but by the speed of their casting.

He was just a research-type Spellcaster; there was no way he could win against Joyce, who was a former battle mage.

“Watch your words, Burkov Connard! The Federation forbids discrimination against any faction of Spellcasters!”

The old Mage did not let his guard down. He merely glanced at his colleagues, and two of them immediately moved to Burkov’s sides, subtly flanking and cornering him.

“I need you to go to the headquarters and cooperate with the investigation.”

The Federation’s highest security principle was to never let a single potential traitor slip through the cracks.

Donnie stood beside Harvey, watching the crestfallen Burkov being escorted away by the others. He sighed with a hint of regret.

“Mr. Burkov, ruined by his own prejudice and discrimination…”

“Mage Harvey, the matter isn’t settled yet, so there’s no need for you to accompany us to Da’ers to assist with the investigation for now.”

The Federation did not have an inspection headquarters in St. Valen; the nearest Inspection Agency was in the neighboring country of Da’ers.

Harvey nodded in understanding. He hadn’t expected an accusation of this level to convict Burkov of high treason against the Federation. Teaching him a lesson and getting him transferred out of Jackdaw Town was enough.

“More importantly, we must lodge a formal protest with the Church and demand they thoroughly investigate this matter and root out those die-hard witch hunters from the Divine Punishment Faction!”

Harvey noticed that several Spellcasters, temporarily assigned to handle negotiations, didn’t even enter the branch building and instead stormed off angrily in the direction of the church.

Donnie patted Harvey’s shoulder, reassuring him with a slightly apologetic tone.

“Don’t worry. Once the investigation is complete, the Federation will certainly compensate you for all your losses, both to your reputation and your person.”

Chapter 35: The Online Discussion Sparked by the Network Outage

It was evening, but not yet time to sleep.

Harvey yawned, forcing himself to sit down in front of the “Magic Brain” device.

Lately, various matters had delayed his work, completely disrupting his internal clock.

First, he’d worried about the vile orcs returning. Then, he’d pulled all-nighters preparing for Astaren’s matter, not to mention the sudden witch hunter attack…

“No sleep by day, suffer by night…” Harvey muttered to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose where a dull ache throbbed.

He used to maintain a disciplined life, relaxing during the day and meditating and working at night.

Now, he was working two shifts: tutoring Pierce and Rainer in literacy with Astaren during the day, and conducting experiments on beetle ore with Rainer at night.

“But they’re alchemical lifeforms who are full of energy as long as they get a recharge. I’m just a flesh-and-blood human toughing it out!”

“Maybe I should just complete the alchemical lifeform transformation myself…” Harvey slapped his head. “No, no! Stop! Stop this dangerous thought!”

The research was for his entrepreneurial project, the project was to get rich quick, and the ultimate goal of getting rich… was to enjoy life!

Gazing at the crystal panel of the Magic Brain device, which reflected his pale face with dark circles under his eyes, Harvey couldn’t help but sigh silently.

“I need to find a way to get some alchemical potions to improve my constitution. The physique of a research-type Spellcaster is just too weak.”

Of course, if he could successfully advance to a mid-level caster, his body would be strengthened to some extent by the Magic Net’s energy. But for a research-type Spellcaster, advancement depended on the volume of knowledge acquired and research into spell matrices.

This was far more difficult than the advancement path of a combat-type Spellcaster.

After collecting his scattered thoughts, Harvey lightly tapped the keys, entered his forum handle into the Magic Brain, and successfully logged into the Spellcaster Forum.

…

On the crystal panel, the handles of many forum members lit up one by one as the time arrived.

[Hand of Elements: Good evening, everyone!]

[Frost Giant: Good evening, all! @Son of Flame, after tonight's discussion, would you be willing to continue our in-depth conversation on the previous research topic?]

Harvey covered his face, speechless. These two were the most active and frequent members in the Forum’s “discussions” lately, but their conversations were so full of gunpowder, their words so harsh, that even Harvey, who was trying to lurk and glean some information, found it hard to bear.

[Son of Flame: Of course! I’d be happy to oblige! By the way, I’d like to ask the Administrator, was the sudden communication failure on the Forum last time related to the recent anomaly on the Magic Net?]

[Frost Giant: I have the same question. A powerful energy surge suddenly appeared in the Magic Net. I was in a roaming state at the time and was almost affected by it.]

[The Scorching Sovereign: Mr. Turing doesn’t seem to be here tonight. I’m afraid a being like him wouldn’t always be interested in listening to us discuss problems of this level…]

Harvey couldn’t quite suppress a smirk. The forum members didn’t know that the main reason he logged in invisibly for every discussion was because he was afraid they would casually throw out a question that would precisely hit a blind spot in his knowledge.

A middle school student pretending to be a doctoral advisor in front of a group of graduate students and PhDs had to be extremely careful.

To maintain his image, the most important thing was not to forget the golden rule: the more you say, the more you risk a slip-up.

[The Scorching Sovereign: So I suggest everyone avoid roaming for the time being. If you get caught in that anomalous energy wave, it could very well be life-threatening!]

Harvey hadn’t tried roaming the Magic Net recently, so he wasn’t entirely sure what this anomalous fluctuation they were talking about was.

He only had a faint suspicion that it might be related to the pure, immense energy shockwave that Rainer had unintentionally released during their beetle ore research.

After all, that energy blast had indeed been observed to pierce through the spatial plane, passing from the physical world into the higher-dimensional space of the Magic Net.

“I didn’t realize that energy blast was so dangerous. I almost accidentally hurt a forum member…” Harvey thought to himself. It seemed he would have to be more cautious with his experiments from now on.

At this thought, an idea struck him. He raised his hands and typed out a message.

[Kel’Thuzad: Did anyone observe what happened to that energy wave in the end?]

[Kel’Thuzad: Did it dissipate in the Magic Net? Or did it hit something? I’m willing to pay a certain amount of points for the data from this observation.]

Actually, it would have been most appropriate to ask Mr. Scorching Sovereign, who was suspected to be a Legendary Caster. However, Harvey felt the other party probably wouldn’t be interested in a simple reward of points.

After all, for some time now, this gentleman with profound magical knowledge had primarily acted as a knowledge provider in the forum, helping members with their research and spell-related problems. His accumulated points ranked first.

There wasn’t much Harvey could offer him in exchange, and he certainly didn’t lack points.

[Hand of Elements: When the energy surge appeared, I immediately sensed the danger and left the Magic Net space, so I didn’t observe any useful information.]

[Son of Flame: I was discussing knowledge with Mr. Frost Giant at the time. After the anomaly appeared, the Forum’s communication was immediately cut off and only restored two hours later.]

[Man in the Mirror: Indeed. I had a shipment of materials in transit at that moment. The Magic Net fluctuation also affected the transport, causing the materials to be destroyed in the process... @Heart of the Forest, please rest assured, I will send you another shipment of the same quality later. I will personally bear this loss.]

Harvey guiltily covered his face. So the trouble he’d caused had indeed affected his “delivery service.” Fortunately, his clients were quite understanding and didn’t have a “the customer is always right” mentality. Otherwise, he really wouldn’t have been able to afford the compensation.

[Heart of the Forest: It is a price we must bear for enjoying such a convenient technology. I understand.]

The group discussed the Magic Net anomaly for a while longer. Harvey noticed that Mr. Scorching Sovereign never commented on the question of the observation results.

It seemed he was also unable to help. However, once Harvey became more proficient in using the beetle ore’s energy, he could try to arrange an observation experiment and invite this group of knowledgeable and powerful high-level casters to participate, providing him with ample experimental advice and observation data.

…

The one-hour forum discussion soon came to an end.

The Man in the Mirror, the Quinn brothers, were reluctantly preparing to log out of the forum to record and organize what they had learned today.

Suddenly, a private message appeared on their Magic Brain’s crystal panel from the freelance alchemist they had “anonymously sponsored.”

[Kel’Thuzad: Mr. Man in the Mirror, are you still online?]

[Man in the Mirror: I am. Has your recent research made any progress? If you need anything, just ask. I will do my best to help.]

Harvey couldn’t help but sigh. This Mr. Man in the Mirror was so friendly and generous. Why couldn’t he meet someone like this in real life, someone who would help him so unconditionally, like a mentor?

Then he remembered that in reality, he was just a Necromancer. It was good enough that he wasn’t discriminated against.

Being anonymous online is so much better…

[Kel’Thuzad: I was wondering, do you have any connection or cooperative relationship with the Alchemical Exploration Society? I’d like to purchase a batch of decommissioned alchemical bodies from the society through you. Model and function don’t matter…]

[Kel’Thuzad: Of course, feel free to name your price. We can discuss it slowly.]

Seeing the message, the Quinn brothers both froze on the spot.

“Isn’t he researching Life Alchemy experiments? Why would he want to purchase decommissioned bodies?”

“What use is that scrapped junk? Isn’t it only good for selling to the Burrowing Dwarves to be reforged into low-grade alloy materials?”

Ofre seemed to have thought of something and sighed sympathetically.

“He’s probably short on funds and wants to use decommissioned bodies as substitutes for finished ones in his experiments.”

“Wouldn’t that drastically reduce the effectiveness? It’ll ruin his experimental progress,” Ed said with a frown.

The Chief Alchemist stood up, walked to the window, and mused aloud with a sigh, “Alas, the path to truth for a freelance alchemist is just this arduous. Ed, think back to our own early days in this field.”

“Write a note to the apprentice in charge of the disposal center. Have them sort out a batch of the better-quality scrap parts and send them to Mr. Kel’Thuzad.”

Chapter 36: The Relocation Plan: Onward to the Barren Lands!

When Harvey woke up in the morning, he found Rainer waiting anxiously by the door.

“Rainer, what’s wrong? Is there another problem with the lab?”

Ever since they had begun researching the versatile applications of beetle ore, Harvey and Rainer had frequently caused all sorts of lab accidents due to their inability to precisely control the degree of the “catalytic reactions.”

The strange thing was, no matter whether the beetle ore released its energy as an explosion or an energy wave, it had never caused any harm to Harvey himself. Even when facing an accident at point-blank range, he remained completely unscathed.

But it was a different story for Rainer and Astaren. Although the alchemical bodies produced by the Esoteric Society—be they decommissioned or auxiliary models—used top-tier alloy materials.

They wouldn’t be blown to pieces that couldn’t be reassembled in an accident.

However, during yesterday’s experiment, Pierce had to climb onto the laboratory roof to retrieve one of Rainer’s arms for him.

The laboratory, however, wasn’t so lucky. After Rainer, equipped with beetle ore, indiscriminately unleashed his “Death-Perception Eyes” skill, it had been riddled with holes like a sieve. The ceiling was patched up, and the walls were drafty on all four sides.

“No, my Lord,” Rainer explained with a pained expression. “I don’t know why, but starting last night, the teleportation circle kept activating, and a huge pile of scrap parts from alchemical bodies came pouring out…”

It had given Rainer, who was on night watch, quite a scare. He thought someone was just carelessly dumping alchemical junk through the teleportation circle.

Harvey burst out laughing. “Those are materials I ordered, not scrap.”

“No wonder. Mr. Astaren said the same thing. He’s already started sorting and organizing that pile of ju—… materials.”

Aside from training the newly turned half-blood vampire, Pierce, as one of his own kind, Astaren’s favorite pastime recently was holing up in Harvey’s study to read books on the continent’s history and participating in all the experiments in the workshop.

The fervent passion ancient wizards held for history and knowledge was on full display in him.

Harvey threw on his robe and pulled Rainer downstairs. “Come on, let’s go help Astaren sort things out.”

…

“Although most of these alchemical parts are damaged and scrapped, the quality of the alloy used to forge them is extremely high…”

Astaren commented as he sorted.

“Perhaps we could try to reassemble a complete body, get Rainer a replacement with higher durability and lower energy consumption…”

Harvey, too, was squatting on the ground without a care for his image, identifying and categorizing the parts that were piled up into a small hill.

“I still don’t get it. What’s the use of all this junk?” Pierce, relying on the formidable strength inherent to half-blood vampires, was doing the heavy lifting, carrying back and forth over one hundred kilograms of alloy scrap in a single trip.

“My Lord, if you want to make alloy weapons, Rainer and I could make a trip to Grizzly Keep and steal a batch from the Lord’s armory.” The stealth capabilities of vampires were indeed exceptional, especially during nighttime operations.

Harvey shook his head and chuckled. “You think there are no Federation Spellcasters in Grizzly Keep? You’re a vampire, and Rainer is an alchemical lifeform. You two are practically born to be burned at the stake!”

This alchemical scrap, purchased in bulk at an extremely low price from Mr. Man in the Mirror, was to be the crucial soul vessel for the army of Soul Alchemical Beasts Harvey planned to build.

Ever since the witch hunter attack, Harvey had been considering a plan to move his workshop away from Jackdaw Town.

On one hand, besides Rainer, he now had two more non-human companions, Astaren and Pierce, whose very existences were taboo. The risk of exposure had skyrocketed, and he worried every day that the Federation and the Church would come knocking on his door.

On the other hand, although he had forcefully filed a countersuit against Burke, the Spellcaster who had discriminated against him—which would most likely result in Burke being dismissed from his post or transferred out of Jackdaw Town—…

…there were plenty of factions within the Federation that discriminated against Necromancers. He feared he might attract more powerful opponents who would use Burke’s case as a pretext to move against him.

Furthermore, the issue with the witch hunters would surely escalate the long-standing conflict between the Federation and the Church. As the spark that ignited the conflict, he was drawing far too much attention.

Thus, the best choice was to get far away, to leave Jackdaw Town, a place that was about to become a hotbed of trouble.

Harvey had already thought of a destination for the move long ago.

It was north of Raven Ridge—the location of the ancient Mage ruins.

Not only was the area remote, but it was also beyond the borders of St. Valen, where neither the Federation nor the Church had jurisdiction. All he needed to do was apply for a Pioneer’s Decree from the local lord, and he could openly occupy a piece of land. As long as he managed it for over ten years, the ownership would officially become his.

Moreover, those ruins held something Harvey coveted immensely—the strange beetles he had named “Energy-Siphoning Bugs,” and the energy ore they produced!

Such a vast, pure, natural energy source—and a renewable one at that, since the beetles bred—was a treasure that any Spellcaster would cherish.

With the energy ore, the power problem would be solved. That meant he could have a large number of Soul Alchemical Beasts. Harvey’s plan to mass-produce alchemical lifeforms could finally begin to take shape.

After all, the current energy-gathering array of “Unit Zero,” besides its daily duties of maintaining the Magic Net Forum and the “Package Delivery” service, also had to recharge Rainer and Astaren. It was already at the critical point of its energy supply.

The ten “Wolf Spider” type alchemical beasts he had converted previously couldn’t be supplied with spare energy. Relying on Harvey to charge them with his own body was simply not enough.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been caught off guard during the witch hunter attack, having failed to set up a perimeter watch outside the manor, which almost cost Pierce his life.

Not to mention, the Magic Net platform was providing him with a constant stream of income. In the future, he would have money when he needed money, combat power when he needed combat power, and a workforce of… uh, the vile orc Living Corpses that graciously delivered themselves in a wave every year!

It was the perfect base of operations!

Harvey had already made his plans. Once he relocated to the new pioneer territory, he would officially begin expanding the Magic Net Forum, allowing founding members to pay with points to sponsor and recommend more high-level casters to join.

In the future, every member who joined the Forum would provide him with a handsome teleportation service fee, followed by a never-ending stream of package delivery fees.

And whether it was their daily information exchanges or their discussions on spell matrices and experimental results, everything would appear verbatim in the “backend” of Harvey’s Forum, becoming precious knowledge for him to plagiarize at any time.

The most urgent task now was to quickly sort through this batch of alchemical materials and see if he could assemble a few alchemical creatures with cargo-carrying capabilities to help him move the massive “Unit Zero” safely to his new territory.

The batch of vile orc corpses from the winter hunt before the new year, which had been stored in the cellar all this time, could finally be put to use. At the very least, he wouldn’t be short on laborers, saving Harvey, Rainer, and the others from having to do the heavy lifting themselves.

Chapter 37: The Ultimate Goal of Entrepreneurship is to Cash In

“Forum members may invite one new member to join the Forum by paying one hundred points as a referral…”

“After joining, new members will only have auditing access to the exchange meetings and browsing permissions on the Forum. After a ten-day review period, they will be granted the same information exchange permissions as formal members…”

The dwarf Copperhammer, handle “Frost Giant,” sat before the Magic Brain, his eyes widening as he stared at the new full-screen announcement pinned to the top of the crystal panel.

“Excellent!” He slapped his thigh, leaping to his feet and running toward the door, where he collided squarely with the dwarven chief, Noli, who was just about to enter.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Their long, thick, and luxuriant beards became tangled together. Noli pulled away from Copperhammer with a look of disgust.

“Hah… The Spellcaster Forum… they’re opening slots for new members!”

The dwarven chief’s eyes lit up. He grabbed Copperhammer and pressed, “Really? How many can we invite?”

Copperhammer pulled him over to the Magic Brain and pointed at the announcement on the crystal panel.

“Each formal member can invite one new member, but it costs one hundred points…”

“Tsk, I don’t have enough points right now. It’s all because I made a bet with that Fire Pig a few days ago over the appraisal of a magical material.”

Copperhammer had come to see the Forum member with the handle “Son of Flame” as his number one virtual rival.

Noli stroked his thick beard, pondering for a moment before suggesting, “Could you acquire some points through a trade? Who do you think has a surplus of points right now?”

Copperhammer shook his head. “I have no idea. Point exchanges between members are completely confidential, unless someone chooses to publicize it themselves.”

After more than a month of interacting on the Forum, every initial member had come to realize its importance was no less than that of the real-world Federation—the only difference being that one was in reality, and the other was on the Plane of the Magic Net.

Furthermore, the Forum’s completely open, absolutely confidential exchange of knowledge and information, along with its epoch-making technology for instantly teleporting items and materials, made participation far more valuable than dealing with the bloated bureaucracy and cumbersome rules of the Federation of Casters.

If not for the rule limiting each member to inviting only one newcomer, all the members would probably have chosen to immediately spend every hard-earned point they had to invite allies from their own factions and seize the initiative.

After all, whoever could first form a dominant group on the Forum would be able to seize a vast amount of Magic Net technology and high-level knowledge in the future.

At this thought, Copperhammer couldn’t help but regret not cherishing his hard-won points, and he pounded his chest in frustration right then and there.

“Damn it! That Fire Pig! He won twenty of my points!”

“Where am I supposed to scrape together one hundred points now?”

The Forum didn’t have many members to begin with, and there were even fewer bounties posted in the Information Exchange section. Resources that people were willing to trade were often listed for extremely low points to ensure a sale, as most people would start with an outrageous asking price only to haggle it way down.

Copperhammer’s expertise was limited to the appraisal and use of mineral-based casting materials. He was powerless to help with knowledge bounties in other categories, however much he wanted to.

“Wait! You have a new message! Look, quickly!” Noli’s eyes widened as he pointed to the flashing message notification on the crystal panel.

[Kel’Thuzad: Mr. Frost Giant, I’m taking the liberty of contacting you privately. I was wondering if you might be interested in purchasing some Forum points to invite a new member…]

Wasn’t this like a pillow appearing just as he was getting sleepy?

Copperhammer lunged toward the Magic Brain. With a heart pounding in excitement and trembling hands, he typed out a reply.

[Frost Giant: How many points do you have? Name your price.]

[Kel’Thuzad: I currently have no need to invite a member, so all my points are available for trade. However, I must reserve a small amount for use before next week’s exchange meeting. Right now, I can offer you fifty points…]

[Kel’Thuzad: One hundred gold pounds per point. I only accept gold pounds, delivered directly via the Magic Net. You will cover the transportation fee.]

Noli slammed his hand on the table, nearly shaking the Magic Brain to pieces.

“Is he robbing us? One hundred gold pounds for one point? Why doesn’t he just come to Hollowhearth City and rob me directly?”

He had considered one thousand gold pounds for a teleportation array an absolute bargain. After all, the value of its technology and function was currently irreplaceable, and it even offered the chance to be deciphered and replicated.

But to pay a full five thousand gold pounds for points that were intangible and could only be circulated on the Forum was something he found difficult to accept.

The annual net profit from all the magical raw ore Hollowhearth City sold to the wizard kingdom and the Araye Federation, after deducting all costs, wasn’t even fifty thousand gold pounds. Forcing him to cough up a tenth of that to buy a single Forum slot was truly heart-wrenching to the point of collapse.

Copperhammer, however, had calmed down by this point. He analyzed the situation decisively, “No, I think it’s worth it! The Forum is bound to grow and expand in the future. If we secure a member slot today, this new member will have the same right to refer newcomers in the future…”

“Your dream of owning a hundred teleportation arrays will no longer be an empty fantasy.”

The dwarven chief paced around the room a couple of times and gradually cleared his thoughts, realizing that his logic was sound.

Missing this opportunity would put them a huge step behind the other members. He was certain that every initial member invited to the Forum was backed by their own powerful faction and family.

He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. “Haggle with him some more!”

With that, he walked over to the Magic Brain himself, nudging Copperhammer, who was originally on the chair, aside with his hip.

[Frost Giant: The price is too high. Can you go any lower?]

[Kel’Thuzad: I’m sorry, the price is non-negotiable. My experimental research requires a great deal of funding. If you cannot accept the price, I will find another buyer.]

“Don’t let him sell the points to someone else!” Copperhammer cried out.

He shot forward in a single bound, grabbed the Magic Brain from the tabletop, and retreated to the other side of the desk, where he began to type frantically.

[Frost Giant: Done!]

[Frost Giant: I have only one condition. You must not disclose the details of our private point transaction to any other member.]

He couldn’t let anyone else know about his shortage of points. If he did, others could easily exploit this weakness in future bidding wars, causing him to lose his chance at a deal.

[Kel’Thuzad: No problem.]

After successfully closing the deal, Harvey leaned back in his chair, unable to hold back a satisfied smile.

He had selected more than just one target for a point transaction.

Besides “Frost Giant,” “Hand of Elements,” “Son of Flame,” “Ghost Captain,” and others were also targets he had chosen in advance.

After all, from the backend, he could clearly see who had enough points to invite a new member and who was running short.

With the exception of “The Scorching Sovereign,” who had plenty of points, all the other members were short to varying degrees.

Even the few members who had been “lurking” and rarely spoke had eagerly expressed their desire to trade for points.

What satisfied him most was that almost everyone had requested that the transaction be kept confidential to prevent others from knowing their predicament, which would be disadvantageous for their future dealings on the Forum.

This wave of secretly pressuring everyone to pay up would immediately provide him with an abundance of the vast funds he needed to develop his new territory.

As expected, the ultimate goal of entrepreneurship is to find every way imaginable to fleece your users and cash in!

Chapter 38: Refugees of the Northern Barren Lands

The barren lands north of the Spine of the Continent Mountains.

The days when the snow had yet to fully melt were the hardest to endure.

With no harvest, relying solely on reserves stored before winter, surviving the long, cold season was an incredibly difficult time for most races living in the northern barren lands.

Early spring brought not only endless cold rain, but also chill, hunger, and death.

But the “low-breed” Vaughn felt this winter was different from any other. He believed he now possessed something far more precious—freedom.

Vaughn was a half-orc, a lowly race born from the interbreeding of humans captured by Demons and vile orcs on the barren lands.

Most of the time, wretches like him were called the “short-lived ones,” meaning that from birth to adulthood, they would survive to sixteen at most, often not even long enough to bear offspring.

They would either die in a Demon war conscription, driven to the front lines to serve as cannon fodder against humans, or be tied with ropes and thrown into the mines of a large vile orc tribe to work to death.

Vaughn felt he’d used up all his life’s luck on this journey south with the vile orc tribe for a raid.

Whipped along the entire way, they had slowly migrated from the frigid ice plains to the much warmer vicinity of the Spine of the Continent Mountains. There, the tribe had assigned them to fell trees, fire clay, and build kilns for cooking at the encampment.

Not having to cross the Spine of the Continent Mountains into human kingdoms to face those human wizards who casually tossed terrifying fireballs and ice blades made Vaughn absolutely certain he could survive the winter.

This luck lasted until a month ago, when the vile orcs brought a batch of human slaves back to the camp.

Vaughn and the other half-orc laborers were tasked with guarding them. These humans were not only slaves to be traded with the Demons for supplies, but also fresh rations for the journey back to the ice plains.

Vaughn didn’t treat these slaves as cruelly as the others did. Unlike other half-orcs, he had known his mother and was keenly aware that half the blood flowing through his veins was the same as these humans’.

News of a sudden Demon invasion of the vile orc tribal court arrived from the ice plains. Vaughn’s small tribe, having not yet established a firm foothold, hastily began their return.

To avoid being burdened on the return journey, they casually slaughtered a number of the slaves locked in wooden cages before quickly evacuating the camp with the main force.

The half-orc laborers left with them, all except Vaughn.

He held a child who had just lost its mother, hiding in a corner of the cage under several corpses, and managed to evade the javelins and wooden spears the vile orcs stabbed randomly into the cage.

The child was frightened senseless and took a long while to recover. He tore a strip of cloth from a dead body to bandage the puncture wound on Vaughn’s calf.

“Shh! Be quiet, Sam. Be careful, there might still be some vile orcs nearby.” Vaughn furrowed his ugly, beastly face, baring his fangs as he tried to soothe the trembling child.

The boy named Sam instantly stopped sobbing. He had been captured for nearly half a month and was already very familiar with this scary-looking big brother Vaughn.

He liked how Vaughn, during his nightly patrols, would secretly stuff a few pieces of burnt, roasted cassava into every cage that held children.

Big brother Vaughn was an ugly… good person.

A low moan came from the adjacent cage. Vaughn’s spirits lifted—there were other survivors.

He pushed Sam back under the pile of bodies to hide him, then dragged his own bleeding leg out of the open cage and crawled toward the groaning sounds.

There were two wounded people. One had a javelin through his shoulder, blood streaming down his chest to his waist, half his body a bloody mess.

The other was not so lucky. His stomach had been pierced, and his white intestines were faintly visible through the large, open wound. He likely wouldn’t survive.

The entire camp was silent in the night, with only a few scattered campfires still burning. The vile orcs had left in such a hurry that they hadn’t managed to kill all the human slaves they had captured.

Vaughn pulled the two wounded men from the pile of dead, tightly bound the severe abdominal wound with a strip of cloth, and then went on to check the remaining cages.

“Vaughn? You weren’t taken? Good heavens!” Another grim-faced half-orc emerged from the bushes, nearly scaring Vaughn to death.

“Dav, how were you left behind too?” He recognized him as another laborer who had worked on his team, a kinsman of about the same age.

“They said I was too slow and kicked me into the river. I can swim, hehe.”

He walked over, hunched, and helped Vaughn pull the surviving wounded humans out of the pile of corpses and give them simple bandages.

“Let’s abandon these slaves and run, Vaughn.”

Vaughn hesitated, scratching his sparse hair, and muttered, “But they’re all injured. I’m afraid they won’t make it back home.”

Dav scrunched up his face and couldn’t help but sneer. “Don’t tell me you want to take them back? We’d probably be run through by human guards the moment we reached the border.”

He pointed to his own face, then to Vaughn’s protruding fangs. “Don’t forget who we are. We’re not human. We’re not their kind.”

“I… I’m in so much pain… so cold…” one of the newly rescued wounded groaned deliriously. Blood slowly seeped from a long gash on his side, soaking through the bandage.

Vaughn tied the strip of cloth tighter, glanced around at the dozen or so wounded lying scattered on the ground, and said through clenched teeth, “We save them first. We can’t just leave them here to die!”

“We have half-human blood in our veins. They’re practically our kin.”

…

Dav was ultimately convinced by Vaughn. After briefly tending to the rescued, the two of them, along with a teary-eyed but unharmed Sam, began scavenging for supplies and food from the abandoned vile orc camp.

It was too cold. A freezing rain might fall later in the night. If these people were left out in the open, they would surely freeze to death. Even if they didn’t, their wounds would quickly worsen after being soaked, which was a far more agonizing fate.

Luckily, they found a cowhide tent that had been left behind. Although it had a few holes, Sam stuffed them with dry grass, making it reasonably wind and rainproof.

They dragged all dozen-some wounded into the tent, built a fire for warmth, and were finally settled for the time being.

“All the meat they hunted the other day was taken…” Dav had searched the entire camp and only found a few shriveled cassavas, which he was now roasting by the fire.

Vaughn said nothing. He unwrapped the dirt-stained bandage on his leg and saw that the wound was red, swollen, and pale.

“I’m going to the river to get some water. You and Sam stay here and don’t wander off.”

He also wanted to use this opportunity to sort out his chaotic thoughts. Not being taken back to the ice plains by the vile orcs was certainly not a bad thing, but he didn’t really have a good place to go either. Following these survivors back to live in a human kingdom was something he didn’t dare even imagine.

Perhaps staying here in this warm, southern region would be a good choice. Both he and Dav were skilled hunters.

Unfortunately, the anticipated peace didn’t last more than fifteen minutes.

When Vaughn returned to the camp carrying a chipped clay pot, he found another person by the campfire.

Dav, who was supposed to be on guard, was pinned to the ground, unable to move, with the stranger’s foot on his chest.

Sam was trembling with fear, not daring to cry out loud. He had shrunk back into the tent with the wounded, only peeking his head out.

“Who are you?” Vaughn dropped the clay pot and pulled a discarded bone spear from his waist.

…

Pierce was dressed in short hunter’s attire, draped in a deep black cloak, his hood revealing a pale, gaunt face.

He had been drawn to the area by a strong scent of blood.

Staring at the creature before him, who clutched a short spear with both hands and spoke with a trembling, stuttering voice, the hunter felt a little puzzled.

“Huh? A vile orc that can speak human?”

“No, he’s not! Big brother Vaughn isn’t a vile orc!” Sam whispered, poking his head out of the tent.

The newcomer was clearly a human and seemed very powerful, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to flatten the sturdy big brother Dav with a single kick. Sam was afraid that he might act on impulse and kill them both on the spot, mistaking them for vile orcs.

“We… we are half… half-orcs… cough cough…” Dav, pinned by the chest, argued with great effort.

Pierce frowned slightly. He then recalled Mr. Astaren mentioning that there were indeed some half-human, half-beast hybrid races living in the northern barren lands. These two ugly creatures with beastly heads and human bodies must be them.

He lifted his foot, releasing the breathless Dav.

“What happened here? I smell human blood. Did you kill someone?” The hunter narrowed his eyes, his pale face revealing a cold expression.

“It wasn’t us! It was the vile orcs! The vile orcs were returning to the ice plains and couldn’t take the human slaves with them, so they went on a killing spree…” Vaughn quickly explained.

Pierce reached out, drew the longsword hidden under his cloak, and lifted the flap of the tattered tent before him.

Sure enough, about a dozen wounded people in the tattered clothes of commoners were crammed inside. The rich scent of blood assaulted his nostrils, making his throat bob slightly involuntarily.

Pierce closed his eyes, suppressing an uncomfortable, craving impulse. He took a small glass bottle from his coat and tossed it to Vaughn.

“It stops bleeding and pain quickly, and briefly boosts vitality. One drop per person. No more than three for the dying.”

The half-orc stared blankly for a few seconds before he understood. He nodded gratefully, clutching the bottle tightly as he rushed into the tent.

Pierce looked up at the sky. If they set out at dawn, he could get these survivors to Lord Harvey’s new territory before sunset tomorrow. It would be best to let Lord Harvey decide their fate then.

It was better than leaving them in the wilderness in the freezing rain, where they would surely die.

While waiting for the two half-orcs to give medicine to the wounded, Pierce couldn’t resist following the scent to the cages piled high with corpses.

Sam watched secretly from a distance and saw the mysterious, kind man stop by the pool of blood and corpses, seemingly hesitating about something.

Finally, he seemed unable to bear it any longer. He crouched down, bringing his head close to a victim’s neck as if about to bite down.

But then he straightened up again with a conflicted look on his face. He took a clean handkerchief from his coat, dipped it into a pool of blood until it was soaked, then brought the cloth to his mouth. Tilting his head back, he gently twisted the handkerchief, squeezing a few drops of blood into his mouth.

Sam was so frightened he immediately clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from screaming.

He saw that inside the slightly open mouth of this mysterious man, who was tilting his head back to sip the blood of the dead, were two extremely sharp, pointed fangs.

Chapter 39: Rescue and Reception

Harvey stood on a relatively flat clearing within the ancient mage ruins.

He gazed worriedly at the chaotic work site.

His original plan was to have Astaren stay behind at the manor and continue organizing the supplies for relocation.

Meanwhile, he, along with Rainer and Pierce, would come to the ruins first to scout the exact location of the beetle nest and to plan for the territory’s future construction.

To this end, he had activated all of the more than thirty vile orc Living Corpses stored at the manor and had even used newly purchased alchemical materials to create three enormous alchemical camel-beasts, converted from the souls of barren lands reindeer.

The reason he wanted to choose the mage ruins for his territory was not only for the beetle ore, but more importantly, because the collapsed Mage Tower itself was ready-made building material.

The sturdy, high-density black stone was scattered in piles throughout the ruins’ sinkhole. All they needed to do was set up a pulley system and use the alchemical camel-beasts to haul the stones out from the bottom of the pit.

Who could have known that after returning to the ruins in the freezing early spring rain, he would discover that prolonged rainfall and melting snow had caused a much larger chain-reaction collapse in the sinkhole.

The only good news was that this new collapse had revealed a dark, gaping entrance to the beetle nest, which had been hidden deep underground.

Harvey sent two alchemical Wolf Spiders into the opening to investigate and found no danger. It seemed that without mana to feed on, the beetles were all embedded in the soil, deep in slumber.

“The edges of this massive sinkhole need to be reinforced, or it will continue to collapse…”

Harvey and Rainer stood in a makeshift tent, studying a crudely drawn map of the ruins.

“However, the sinkhole itself is a natural underground space. We just need to build a roof over it, and we’ll have a ready-made workshop.”

Rainer nodded, quickly jotting down Harvey’s ideas in a small notebook with a charcoal pencil.

He was now the sole foreman for the territory’s construction. After all, only he could precisely control the Living Corpse laborers to do the heavy lifting and assembly work.

“After reinforcing the sinkhole, we’ll start building the surface facilities. My plan is a three-story main building for us to live in. I’ll install a small energy-gathering array on the second floor to make it convenient for you and Astaren to recharge…”

“The warehouse and laboratory will all be located underground. We’ll need a separate passage connecting to the beetle nest…”

“Hmm… The food storage and utility rooms will be built next to the main building, connected by an open-air corridor. We can’t let living supplies come into contact with experimental materials. Food safety must also be considered…”

Rainer scribbled furiously, occasionally offering his own opinions and suggestions.

“My Lord, why don’t we just use the black stones at the bottom of the pit to reinforce the edges? That would save us the effort of moving them back and forth.”

Harvey nodded in approval. “The outer walls of the ruins are a must. Every section of the wall must have magical warning devices, and at night, we’ll need alchemical beasts for patrol and early warning…”

After all, the ruins were located outside the borders of the human kingdoms, which meant the probability of encountering unexpected situations and unknown attacks was greatly increased. Harvey had learned his lesson from the last ambush.

Right now, his entire armed force consisted of only ten alchemical Wolf Spiders. Creatures like the Living Corpses, which required a command to attack, didn’t even count.

The alchemical camel-beasts had no combat function; their design had only considered their carrying capacity and stability.

With Astaren absent, Pierce and Rainer took turns staying by Harvey’s side, a constant reminder that in reality, he was just a rookie Spellcaster who couldn’t even cast spells instantly.

As the two were enthusiastically discussing their plans, Rainer suddenly dropped his charcoal pencil and notebook and shuddered.

“My Lord, the Wolf Spiders on the perimeter have sent a warning!”

“Let’s go take a look. Maybe Pierce is back.”

Three days ago, upon arriving at the ruins, Harvey had arranged for Pierce to progressively expand his scouting perimeter around the ruins and toward the barren lands, following a set route each day.

Among them, only the half-blood vampire hunter possessed the ability to move swiftly through the primeval forests. Whether it was the Vampire’s superior senses or their innate night vision, he was the optimal choice for a scout.

“My Lord! Rainer! I’m back!” From a distance, Harvey saw Pierce leap deftly onto a broken stone tablet and wave vigorously at them.

“How did it go? Did you find any signs of vile orcs in the direction of the barren lands?”

Pierce shook his head. “No, the vile orc tribes were invaded. All the clans that had moved south have retreated…”

“How do you know that?” Harvey was a little puzzled.

Pierce pointed behind him. “My Lord, in a camp left behind by the vile orcs, I rescued a group of captured human slaves and two half-orc laborers.”

“They’re all injured, so they’re moving slower than me. It’ll probably be a little while before they get here.”

Pierce scratched his head, a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry, my Lord. I brought them back without your permission. Perhaps after getting them settled, we can send them on their way…”

Harvey cut off Pierce’s explanation. “How could rescuing our own kind be a problem for me? You did well. Besides, these people might be of great help to me.”

“Pitch a few more tents and get them settled comfortably. Once they’ve recovered from their injuries, I’m willing to hire them to work for me.”

Pierce and Rainer were both stunned, their minds momentarily unable to process what they’d heard.

“Don’t forget, I now hold a Pioneer’s Decree personally issued by the Lord.” Harvey winked humorously and laughed. “Perhaps before long, I’ll be a new noble with my own territory.”

“But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Go and bring them the rest of the way back,” Harvey clapped his hands, quickly sending Pierce back the way he came.

Then he had Rainer direct the Living Corpses to hastily erect several more tents next to the temporary camp. “Once the people arrive, you need to pay attention to where the Living Corpses are. Don’t frighten the commoners.”

Rainer nodded, then asked with some concern, “My Lord, what about… what about my identity? If people find out…”

Harvey patted his shoulder and comforted him, “Don’t worry. To the public, you’re my chief advisor. Commoners won’t understand these taboos. You just need to present yourself as a Spellcaster.”

The soul fire in Rainer’s eyes immediately brightened, and he instantly puffed out his chest. Still in disbelief, he asked, “Then… I can call myself a Spellcaster from now on?”

Harvey smiled and nodded, gesturing to the Spellcaster’s robe he was wearing. “Once conditions in the territory improve, I will have a standard-issue Spellcaster’s robe made for you, the same model as the Federation’s. At least in my territory, you will undoubtedly be a Mage Lord.”

Watching Rainer cheer and rush off to prepare for the camp expansion, Harvey shook his head with an amused smile.

The status of a noble or a Spellcaster was truly more alluring to commoners than real gold and silver.

Chapter 40: The New Territory’s Construction Plan

Rainer entered, holding a stack of blueprints and paper documents as he lifted the tent flap.

“Lord, I’m here.”

Harvey looked up and pinched the bridge of his nose, pulling himself away from his practice of drawing instant-cast spell matrices.

The past few days had been incredibly busy. Having just moved to the new territory, everything had to be started from scratch. He had also taken in a group of human slaves captured by the vile orcs, and the daily needs of over twenty people in the camp all required Harvey’s attention.

Harvey was not short on money now. The various fee-based services he had set up on the Magic Net Forum had earned him a fortune, allowing him to save up nearly thirty thousand gold pounds in startup capital for the territory’s construction.

The problem now was that even with money, it wasn’t easy for him to buy the supplies he needed.

As alchemical lifeforms, Astaren and Rainer had sensitive identities and couldn’t show their faces in public.

Although Pierce was alert and calm, he was just an ordinary hunter in the past. And even though Astaren had been carefully mentoring him as a junior, in Harvey’s eyes, his level of education was still below that of an elementary school graduate.

Besides Harvey himself, there was no one else who could help him contact the outside world and establish a network for trading supplies.

Harvey could only place his hopes on this newly received group of survivors. “Rainer, have you finished registering the identities of this group?”

Rainer straightened his back, flipped through the documents in his hand, and said seriously, “Lord, we have. Pierce and I conducted separate interrogations and then cross-referenced their identities and origins.”

“This group of survivors doesn’t come from any of the current human kingdoms. They’ve always lived in the barren lands. Their ancestors migrated to the barren lands to evade taxes and military service…”

Harvey was taken aback. “They’re not human commoners from south of the Spine of the Continent Mountains?”

He immediately recalled the history books he had read during his academy days. Indeed, at the beginning of the war between humans and Demons, the Federation and the Church were still at each other’s throats, paying little attention to the conflict that could affect the very survival of humankind.

This led most human kingdoms to fend for themselves, pitting their old-fashioned knights against the naturally gifted Demon armies, and for a time, they found themselves at a great disadvantage.

It was during that period that many kingdoms and feudal lords, financially strained by the war effort, resorted to imposing exorbitant taxes and levies. This caused countless commoners who had lost their land and property to flee their homes.

He never expected that so many of these displaced people had actually crossed the Spine of the Continent Mountains to escape to the northern barren lands, managing to survive and multiply in such a harsh environment.

…

“So, are they willing to work for me and serve in my new territory?”

Rainer nodded. “No one chose to leave. Their temporary settlement on the ice plains has been completely overrun. If you are willing to take them in, Lord, they are willing to reclaim the land themselves and pay tribute to you…”

Harvey shook his head. “No, I don’t need them to grow food for me, nor do I need them for hard labor.”

He pulled a few pages of a pre-drafted document from the files on his desk and handed them to a somewhat bewildered Rainer.

“This is an employment contract. Read it through first. I’ll explain anything you don’t understand…”

Harvey had thought it through clearly. His future territory didn’t need a large population engaged in low-level labor.

What he truly needed were “skilled workers” with a certain level of education and manufacturing skills.

This meant that for a long time, this group of raw laborers would need to complete literacy education while simultaneously working on the territory’s construction.

The territory’s security and military strength could be guaranteed by the continuously converted alchemical beasts.

In the short term, food and other living supplies could be handled through “imports.” Once the technology matured, using alchemical lifeforms for agricultural production would be far more efficient than human labor.

“So, we’ll first complete the territory’s basic infrastructure. Let’s proceed according to the construction plan we made earlier.”

Rainer nodded and asked hesitantly, “Then… where are we going to get the necessary supplies and materials?”

Harvey covered his face and sighed. “I’ll have to go myself. Jackdaw Town, Grizzly Keep, Da’ers… I’ll buy from wherever I can…”

No merchant guild was willing to take on the business of transporting goods across the border.

The large quantities of purchased supplies and materials would ultimately have to be transported to the territory bit by bit by his own alchemical camel-beasts.

“Beginnings are always difficult!”

…

“Lord Rainer, I don’t quite understand… what does ‘employing’ us mean?”

Inside a tent that sheltered them from the wind and rain, several survivors sat cross-legged on the ground, chattering as they crowded around Rainer with questions.

“Doesn’t the Lord need us to clear fields for him?”

“Then what will we eat? He’s not going to make us work in the mines, is he?”

Rainer clutched the document in his hand, feeling his alchemical brain starting to overheat slightly.

“Stop! Everyone, stop! Listen to my explanation!”

The people were still quite fearful of this strange Mage Lord, who seemed friendly on a daily basis but had a tall and terrifying appearance. At his words, they all fell silent.

“First, those who voluntarily join Lord Harvey’s territory must sign an employment contract. This represents your willingness to work for the Lord, and in return, the Lord is responsible for your personal safety and must pay you for your work…”

A middle-aged man, the leader among the survivors, was stunned. His eyes widened in disbelief as he asked with a trembling voice, “W-we don’t have to be serfs? And… and we don’t have to pay taxes?”

Rainer nodded and continued reading with a deadpan expression, “By voluntarily signing the contract, you will become freemen of the Lord’s territory. The wages paid to you for your work will already have the taxes deducted.”

The half-orc Vaughn stammered, “Th-that… salary, what can it be used for?”

Rainer glanced around and explained proficiently, “It’s your own property, of course. You can use it to buy food, clothes, livestock, a house…”

Dav only heard the first half of the sentence. His eyes lit up, and he whispered with a grin that revealed a mouthful of fangs, “Can… can I buy a woman?”

“The buying and selling of people is forbidden in this territory!” Rainer secretly clenched his fist. “Don’t interrupt. Wait until I’m finished before you ask questions.”

But Vaughn could no longer hear a word Rainer was saying.

He wouldn’t have to live as a slave in the Lord’s territory. He could exchange labor for payment to buy himself enough food and warm clothes.

After saving up enough wages, he could even buy his own house, and he wouldn’t have to worry about it all being easily taken away. The Lord even declared he was responsible for guaranteeing their personal and property safety.

He felt like he had never even dreamed of such a wonderful prospect.

Although he still didn’t know what kind of work he would be doing to serve the Lord, the half-orc couldn’t wait for the strange, all-metal Mage Lord to drone on with the rest of the details.

He quietly uncrossed his legs and used his hands to scoot over next to Rainer, forcing a smile onto his intimidating face.

“Lord Rainer, I’m willing to sign that… contract, to serve the Lord!”

Chapter 41: The Second Teleportation Array

Over the past week, Harvey’s new territory had been developing smoothly.

The Pioneer’s Decree he received from the lord of Grizzly Keep had originally designated his territory to be limited to Raven Ridge’s northern slope and the area of the ancient Mage’s ruins at the foot of the mountain.

However, a lord原则上had no right to enfeoff unclaimed land outside the kingdom’s borders to a noble. The Pioneer’s Decree was merely a formality, a stamp of approval to establish Harvey’s ownership in name only.

Whether he could truly establish a foothold here depended entirely on his own efforts as a pioneer.

Thus, when Harvey made his initial plans for the territory, he didn’t feel the need to strictly adhere to the boundaries drawn on the decree. In the spirit of taking as much as he could, he pushed the territory’s boundary markers far out, close to the river valley in the barren lands.

By his calculations, the total actual area of this land was now far larger than the Earl of Grizzly Keep’s own domain.

A total of nineteen new settlers had signed employment contracts. Excluding the children who were not yet sixteen, there were only fifteen people available to work on the territory’s construction.

This led to a severe short-term shortage of not only construction materials but also labor.

Harvey could only dedicate all his manpower and alchemical beasts to the core construction of the territory, unable to spare a single person for anything else.

The massive, continuously collapsing sinkhole in the center of the ruins had now been reinforced. Through everyone’s efforts, its edges had been fortified, neatly built up with black stone slabs that had been piled at the bottom of the pit.

The settlers themselves didn’t have to perform much heavy labor. All the hauling and lifting was handled by the alchemical beasts under Rainer’s command; they only needed to assist.

With the lord providing free food until the initial phase of construction was complete, and without the enslavement and exploitation they had suffered in the past, most of the new settlers felt their future was incredibly bright. This work was easy and straightforward.

A few, however, were fraught with worry, feeling that this unbelievably comfortable life was somehow too good to be true.

The half-orc Vaughn was one of them.

“Dav, do you think the Lord will deduct the cost of these rations from our salaries later on?”

As he focused on strapping stone slabs to the lifting rig, Vaughn quietly nudged Dav in the side and asked in a low voice.

Dav hadn’t thought that far ahead. He glanced up at Rainer, who was directing them from a higher position, and whispered back, “Lord Rainer said all new settlers get three months of free food. What are you worrying so much for?”

His eyes darted around as a thought struck him. He leaned in excitedly toward Vaughn’s ear. “Besides, we get to eat bread baked from barley every day, and even glistening, roasted deer meat. What’s there to be unhappy about?”

Currently, all the food for the territory’s residents was purchased in Jackdaw Town by Pierce, who transported it with the alchemical camel-beast. This was supplemented by a small amount of game from hunting.

For settlers who were used to eating bran cakes and roasted cassava, this standard of meals represented a monumental leap in their quality of life.

Initially, they had only hoped to have enough to eat. Now, not only were their bellies full, but there was also meat at every meal. They had even heard that once the lord’s main hall was finished, he would distribute a batch of cloth as a work bonus.

Several of the refugees who had lived their whole lives in the barren lands and never had the chance to taste food made from flour were so moved that they nearly choked when they took their first bite of the soft barley bread, soaked in the grease from roasted meat.

“Once the Lord’s main hall is done, we’ll start building our own homes. What do you say? Want to build a place with me?” Dav proposed with a grin.

“That way, we’d only need to buy one house, and we could pool our money to buy a wife together.”

Vaughn rolled his eyes. “How many times have I told you? The Lord doesn’t allow the buying and selling of people.”

He paused, trying to recall what he’d overheard from other settlers’ chats. “Uh, to marry a wife, you need a lot of money, and a house… and you probably need your own land, too. Otherwise, how would you feed your children?”

Dav was taken aback. “It takes that much to marry a wife?” he stammered. “My old man had nineteen kids and managed to raise eight of them. If I work hard, I should be able to afford it.”

Astaren stood beside Harvey, looking up at the brand-new, continental-grade teleportation array before them.

“Why get another one of these things? Isn’t the one we have enough?”

This new teleportation device was something Harvey had procured through several intermediaries on the Magic Net Forum under the handle “Kel’Thuzad.” It had come from the capital of Oland, the Mage Kingdom closest to the Evil Moon Mountain Range, and it too was a phased-out model.

Harvey had installed it next to “Unit Zero” at the bottom of the sinkhole, right in the center of the laboratory. Since there was no roof yet, it was temporarily covered by a waterproof tarp.

“You don’t understand. The energy output from Unit Zero is already stretched thin just supporting the Forum and teleportation services.”

Harvey patted the brass pillar of the new device with satisfaction. “This second device is mainly for powering the alchemical beasts. Once the main hall is built, you and Rainer will get your own small, separate array for your power supply…”

Moreover, due to the difficulty of purchasing and transporting supplies, Harvey also planned to link the second device’s teleportation array to a warehouse he would build in Jackdaw Town. This would ensure a rich, steady stream of supplies could be delivered to his new territory.

Harvey had already contacted George Santos of the Dragonstone Merchant Guild about this. He was an old business partner, after all, and Harvey still held a dividend-paying share in the soap workshop.

George was more than happy to provide procurement and transportation services for Harvey’s territory, though the destination was limited to Jackdaw Town. This necessitated setting up a warehouse there and using the teleportation array as a relay.

Astaren frowned slightly, puzzled. “Relaying goods with a teleportation array? But the matrix you designed has too small a payload for a single transfer. It can’t possibly keep up.”

Harvey had expected him to worry about this. He smiled and pointed at the slightly different array inscriptions on the bases of the two devices.

“The second device’s matrix is very different from Unit Zero’s. I’ve adjusted it, sacrificing the advantage of instantaneous transmission but ensuring a much larger cargo capacity per transfer…”

This was a result of his research on the energy compression properties of beetle ore. Applied to the Magic Net’s cross-planar teleportation, it could guarantee delivery within six hours, but a single transfer could carry a payload of up to several hundred kilograms.

“And it no longer requires me to use my mental energy to guide the teleportation on the Magic Net. For a teleport of less than a hundred kilometers across a single mountain ridge, the energy consumption won’t be a major issue either.”

The only thing that pained Harvey right now was how his once-abundant startup capital had been flowing away like a flood through an open gate.

After extensive purchases of reserve supplies and various materials, he now had less than ten thousand gold pounds of disposable funds remaining.

Of the two paths—generating revenue and cutting costs—the former was clearly more important.

“I need to find a way to fleece a new wave of users from the Forum…”

“And I’ll start with the new members who are about to join!”

Chapter 42: A New Member Joins

The hands of the clock moved steadily to the nine o’clock position.

High-level caster Fran Macaulay set aside the thick stack of documents in his hands and walked over to an exquisite alchemical instrument shaped like a typewriter, sitting down firmly.

After inserting a crystal-clear, high-grade magic stone into the slot on the side of the instrument, he lifted his arms and tapped lightly on the typewriter-like keys, entering his preset handle—“Spellshield”.

On the base of this alchemical instrument, dubbed the “Magic Brain,” the inscriptions instantly glowed with a faint red light. On the crystal panel, mercury swam like tadpoles, forming words.

Fran Macaulay narrowed his eyes, his gaze fixed intently on the target.

“So this Magic Net Forum the Quinn brothers mentioned actually exists? It wasn’t a prank?”

A week ago, the twin brothers, who had always been on good terms with Fran, had suddenly paid him a mysterious visit.

They had brought him this alchemical instrument called the “Magic Brain” and told him they had been invited to a mysterious meeting in the Magic Net space—the Spellcaster Forum.

At first, Fran had been reluctant to pay them any mind. The often-fanciful twin brothers had used all sorts of minor alchemical inventions to prank him in their youth.

But when the Quinn brothers took him to their laboratory and he witnessed the Magic Net teleportation array with his own eyes, Fran truly realized how astounding this anonymous organization was.

Instantaneous communication technology through the Magic Net and a teleportation array capable of instantly receiving items—things that even the research-type Spellcasters of the Federation couldn’t achieve.

If joining this Forum gave him a chance to obtain this groundbreaking technology for Magic Net research, he wouldn’t just participate in the Forum; he’d even be willing to take part in Magic Net travel experiments without question.

His background—hailing from the same Alchemist family as the Quinn brothers—was a real demerit for a Spellcaster. It had kept him stuck in the Federation of Casters’ Department of Magical Affairs for a full fifteen years without a single promotion.

As for the Quinn brothers’ blatant and subtle hints that he should watch their backs in the Forum, Fran found it perfectly reasonable. Those from the same clan naturally needed to stick together to secure their interests.

…

【Hand of Elements: Good evening, everyone! Good evening, Mr. Administrator!】

【The Scorching Sovereign: I see a few new members have joined us. Allow me to extend a welcome!】

Fran’s heart stirred. The members of this mysterious Forum were quite friendly and polite. In the real world, they were likely high-ranking members of major Spellcaster organizations.

He recalled the Quinn brothers telling him that only high-level casters were qualified to participate in the Forum, and that there might even be legendary-level Spellcasters among them.

【Heart of the Forest: Welcome to the new members. I can see us growing stronger in the future!】

【Man in the Mirror: I must praise Mr. Turing!】

Fran watched the messages constantly appearing on the crystal panel, trying to find the handles that might belong to the Quinn brothers. But there were too many people, and the pleasantries were devoid of substance, so he couldn’t get a bead on them.

He would just have to wait for the meeting to end and have the Quinn brothers contact him.

【Ghost Captain: Everyone, I’m looking for an analysis of a modified water-element spell matrix. Is anyone interested in taking on this commission?】

Fran froze when he saw the message.

What? Research related to spell analysis could be commissioned to others?

For a Spellcaster to learn any non-universal spell of any rank, they had to analyze and inscribe its spell matrix into their own sigils. Only a successful analysis allowed for proper spellcasting, and only a completed inscription allowed for instant casting.

This was common knowledge for any academically-trained Spellcaster, something learned during their apprenticeship.

Yet in this Forum, someone was openly commissioning knowledge that required independent study.

This would surely shatter the knowledge barriers between Spellcaster organizations and factions!

【Hand of Elements: I’m quite skilled in analyzing elemental spells, @Ghost Captain. Please contact me privately after the meeting.】

Someone accepted the commission!

Fran was secretly shocked. This person had to be a high-level caster or even higher.

【The Scorching Sovereign: If it involves spell analysis required for advancement, you can contact me privately.】

Spell analysis for advancement?

Fran knew that when Spellcasters advanced in rank, they needed to analyze higher-level spell matrices into their sigils. This allowed them to resonate their sigils with the energy of the Magic Net, thereby achieving a higher level of spellcasting.

This must be the one the Quinn brothers mentioned, the suspected Legendary Caster.

Could it be one of those reclusive high-ranking members of the Federation…

【Son of Flame: Everyone, I have a high-level magic artifact from the Demons that I’m willing to part with. It aids in meditation and offers a degree of spell amplification. Points only. Interested parties can contact me privately.】

This person must be a combat-type Spellcaster who has experienced the war against the Demons in the Evil Moon Mountain Range.

As a high-ranking member of the Federation’s Department of Magical Affairs, Fran keenly deduced the other party’s general background.

【Frost Giant: Hah! Planning to charge an arm and a leg again, are we?】

【Son of Flame: If you can’t afford it, don’t whine!】

…

They could trade magic items! Fran was pleasantly surprised, but he immediately thought of the magic teleportation array the Quinn brothers had shown him. That must be what gave the Forum the confidence to facilitate anonymous transactions.

He too had been stationed on rotation in the Evil Moon Mountain Range and had a few decent high-level artifacts. However, in the real world, Spellcasters rarely traded with money, and bartering for materials was difficult to arrange quickly, so he’d never had a chance to get rid of them.

Perhaps through this Forum, he’d have a chance to trade for the spellcasting materials or experimental items he had always lacked.

At this thought, Fran suddenly felt restless and impatient. Why weren’t new members allowed to speak? They could only listen in!

【Kel’Thuzad: Everyone, I recently discovered a previously unknown mineral in some ancient Mage’s ruins. Is anyone interested in participating in its research?】

【Frost Giant: Unknown mineral? Where did you find it? Are you sure it’s never been discovered before?】

【Son of Flame: Hmph! Are you trying to freeload off someone else’s discovery? Have some shame!】

It was common for Spellcasters to explore ancient ruins. The danger involved was directly proportional to the rewards, and ancient Mage’s ruins were by no means safe.

Being able to successfully explore ancient Mage’s ruins and reap all the rewards was in itself a testament to a Spellcaster’s profound knowledge and powerful magical abilities.

Fran believed that this Spellcaster couldn’t possibly have explored it alone. At the very least, they must have been backed by an organization and completed it as part of a team.

【Frost Giant: I am willing to pay a certain price in exchange for a sample of the ore or the preliminary research findings. Please contact me privately, Mr. Kel’Thuzad!】

【Kel’Thuzad: No problem.】

The members then discussed the topic of Magic Net roaming for a while, and Fran was astonished to discover the terrifying depth of their research into the Magic Net space.

Things like observing unknown energy surges in the Magic Net, or the potential location of a rift to another dimension within the Magic Net space.

What in the world was the Federation’s Magic Net Observation Department even doing! Their research into the Magic Net couldn’t even compare to that of an anonymous group of Spellcasters!

【Man in the Mirror: I wonder if you all have heard the news. The situation in the Evil Moon Mountain Range has become somewhat unfavorable recently. A new type of hybrid demonic beast has appeared among the Demons, and it is causing immense casualties among low-level casters.】

Fran’s eyes narrowed, and he immediately became alert.

This piece of war intelligence was exactly what Fran had privately told the two of them a few days ago. After all, their primary responsibility was the research and development of combat-type alchemical bodies. The battle report hadn’t even been released within the Federation yet, nor had it been published in the Federation’s official bulletin.

“Heh heh! Quinn brothers, I’ve finally caught on to your Forum handles!”

“If I had permission to speak in this meeting, would it even be your turn to show off how well-informed you are?”

“Hmph!”

Chapter 43: Mass-Producing Alchemical Beasts

“What happened to all these alchemical beasts?” Harvey stared at the pile of Wolf Spider alchemical beasts before him—missing limbs, their outer shells battered and scarred—and felt an impulsive urge to turn and walk away.

“My lord, aside from the ten or so Wolf Spiders on daily patrol, the rest of the Wolf Spiders and pack beasts have been assigned to the construction site to transport and hoist heavy stone materials. Damage is inevitable,” Rainer said, his heart aching. These alchemical lifeforms, created through soul transfer just like him, were of low intelligence, but they were normally very docile, obedient, and would follow any order.

“The wear and tear on the alchemical beasts is one thing, but the scrapping rate for the Living Corpses is even higher. Of the thirty-some vile orc Living Corpses we had in reserve, every day some are crushed by stones or accidentally fall from the edge of the pit…”

Rainer was simply too busy. Besides controlling the alchemical beasts, he also had to constantly issue work commands to the Living Corpses. The slightest lapse in attention, and those walking corpses would work themselves to pieces.

Speechless, Harvey covered his face, not wanting to hear any more.

“We have to increase the number of work-type alchemical beasts! We can’t have combat-types like the Wolf Spiders participating in construction anymore.”

The Wolf Spiders’ metallic limbs were slender and fragile. In battle, they allowed for swift, agile stealth and climbing, and could even be used as weapons to directly pierce an enemy’s body if necessary.

But when used for construction work, they were a complete liability.

Astaren was doing his best to repair the damaged Wolf Spiders every day, with most of the malfunctions caused by broken legs.

Harvey suddenly recalled something he had seen a few days ago while surveying the terrain with Pierce: a group of unknown primates swinging through the mountain jungle, screeching wantonly.

“Monkeys! That’s it! We’ll use monkeys to create alchemical beasts!” He slapped his forehead and shot to his feet.

He had previously discovered that alchemical lifeforms transformed from human souls, like Rainer, had prominent talents in memory and learning.

The Wolf Spiders, transformed from gray wolves, retained the canine’s talents for tracking and stealth, and they subconsciously excelled at coordinated pack combat.

And the reason the pack beasts could carry heavy loads and manage stable, long-distance transport was undoubtedly because they were based on reindeer—animals naturally suited for carrying weight and long migrations.

This was a clear indication that soul transfers from different species would manifest different racial talents!

So, for an alchemical lifeform adept at labor, besides humans, the most obvious choice was a primate that had already learned to use simple tools.

“Rainer, have Pierce immediately go and capture a few monkeys or apes. Don’t delay. I want to conduct the transformation experiment tonight!”

Rainer nodded and prepared to leave with the blueprints.

“Wait! Have Pierce take two experienced hunters with him. Get those two… uh, what were their names again? The half-orcs!”

…

This was the first time Vaughn and Dav had been in the lord’s underground laboratory since the basement of the main keep had been completed.

During work hours, they would always see those iron monsters of various shapes, their bodies glinting with a metallic luster, coming and going from underground.

But no one found it strange anymore. These iron monsters were agile and incredibly strong, having saved them an untold amount of effort in the construction of the keep. The common folk quite liked working alongside them.

However, the vile orc Living Corpses, which still gave off a faint, foul stench despite being wrapped in linen, were not so popular.

This was especially true after Vaughn, going out to relieve himself one night, saw them silently forming a line under the moonlight, slowly emerging from beneath the keep and disappearing into the gloomy, dark forest.

Today, the two of them had been personally summoned by Mister Pierce to go to a mountain stream valley, about half a day’s journey from the keep, to complete a task for the lord: catch some monkeys.

“Vaughn, what do you think the lord wants live monkeys for? Those scrawny things have no fat on them. They can’t taste good no matter how you cook them, right?” Dav whispered as he and Vaughn stood side-by-side in a corner of the underground lab.

Vaughn was also puzzled. It was true that he and Dav had a knack for hunting with thrown stones, which was probably why Mister Pierce had chosen them. A well-aimed stone could stun a monkey in the treetops without killing it.

While the two were whispering in the corner, Harvey and Rainer had already finished their preparations. Standing before the workbench, they beckoned for them to drag over the monkeys, which were all tied together with a rope.

This was Vaughn’s first time being so close to the lord, and he approached with his head slightly bowed in fear, his eyes fixed on the floor, not daring to look up.

He firmly remembered what Lord Rainer had said: their lord was a powerful Spellcaster.

“What is your name?” a gentle voice asked from above.

Vaughn trembled slightly and mumbled, “My lord, my name is Vaughn, and this is Dav.”

Harvey nodded, very satisfied with the two half-orcs’ hunting skills. Nearly every monkey brought back alive had been struck on the head by a stone, resulting in a large, blue bruise, but none had been killed.

“Your aim with the stones is excellent, and your control over the force is good, too.” Harvey felt it was a waste of their talent to have them as construction workers. He glanced at Pierce. “From now on, have them join you on patrol and guard duty for the territory.”

Pierce nodded, bowed, and then nudged the stunned half-orcs, leading them back to the wall to stand.

“Rainer, let’s begin the transformation experiment directly. We don’t have many samples, so mind the success rate.”

Rainer deftly gagged the screeching monkeys with cloth strips, then tied them down to the workbench and put hoods over their heads.

…

“How is it? Can you establish a connection and issue commands?”

Harvey asked worriedly, looking at Rainer, who was hooked up to the energy conduits.

Rainer nodded. The inscriptions on his alchemical body’s head lit up continuously, seeming to maintain the connection.

“I can, my lord, although I sense their souls are rather agitated and chaotic, full of confusion and fear.”

The vessels for this transformation were humanoid alchemical beasts, shaped like dwarves but with longer arm spans, which Harvey and Astaren had modified together.

Rainer controlled one of the transformed alchemical beasts, making it raise a metallic arm that reached its knee and pick up a screwdriver from the workbench.

Then, it wobbled over to another alchemical beast and, holding the screwdriver, deftly removed its arm.

He then had three of the alchemical beasts gather around the workbench and work together to assemble a prosthetic component.

“Primates have much higher intelligence than ordinary beasts, which will also increase the difficulty of controlling them.”

Astaren came over to observe as well. “Hmm, I can try controlling them, too. With a dozen of these alchemical beasts, it might be too much for Rainer to handle alone.”

Harvey patted Rainer’s shoulder encouragingly. “Keep practicing. It won’t be long before this batch of alchemical beasts can be put to work.”

With that, he turned to look at Pierce, who was standing guard by the laboratory door to prevent any accidents.

“Pierce, for the time being, you and, uh… Vaughn and the others, will spend some time every day hunting monkeys. I need to mass-convert these work-type alchemical beasts.”

Harvey looked with satisfaction at the dozen or so dwarf-like alchemical beasts successfully transformed this time.

He believed it wouldn’t be long before he had a large contingent of top-quality, assembly-line aces!

“This batch of alchemical beasts… let’s name them Work-type Model 007…”

Chapter 44: A Surge in the Domain’s Population

As the weather in the Northern Barren Lands gradually warmed, the main keep of Harvey’s domain neared completion.

Harvey’s thinking had shifted from his initial plan of building a simple Mage Tower. He was now beginning to consider the domain’s growing population.

According to the half-orcs Vaughn and Dav, if the news of the Demons invading the vile orc tribes was reliable, then it was highly likely that a large number of refugees would flee south due to the war.

Whether they were human refugees or escaped half-orc slaves, they would probably migrate toward the foot of the Spine of the Continent Mountains.

After all, along the entire Spine of the Continent Mountains, there were only three passes with low enough elevation to be crossed by foot. Aside from the Demon battlefield in the Evil Moon Mountain Range and the Elven kingdom in the Misty Forest, the only one left was Raven Ridge on the border of St. Valen.

Harvey felt this was an excellent opportunity to absorb more people and bolster his domain.

With the work-type alchemical beasts as his primary construction labor force, Harvey was finally no longer stretched thin for manpower.

Therefore, while the original structure of the keep remained unchanged, he also had houses built near the keep, close to the river, with enough space to accommodate five hundred people.

They were all two-story houses, each with a foundation of cut stone and a second floor made of wood. Each floor was twenty square meters. The first floor was divided into a kitchen/dining area and a washroom, while the second was partitioned into two bedrooms.

Drainage ditches had also been dug between the houses in advance, covered with stone slabs to channel wastewater downstream and prevent contamination of the upstream water source.

The first group of about twenty residents, based on their original family structures, were given priority to move into the row of houses closest to the keep.

This was the reward Harvey had promised for participating in the domain’s construction: a two-story cottage with a fireplace, and a free supply of food for these past three months.

…

Vaughn and Dav also received a cottage of their own as they had wished, which was an incredible surprise for the half-orc brothers who had only ever slept in dirt burrows and in the wild.

“Vaughn, look! I was right, wasn’t I? The lord really built a house for us!” Dav vigorously rubbed the mud from his large, coarse feet before carefully pulling Vaughn inside.

“Look at this fireplace! And a table! We don’t have to squat to eat anymore.” Dav scurried all over the room, touching this and looking at that, completely satisfied with everything. “And a latrine! Haha, no more freezing our butts off in the open!”

Vaughn nodded with a wide smile, also cautiously rubbing the mud from his feet at the doorway before stepping into the room.

“There are two bedrooms on the second floor! Oh heavens, there are beds!” Dav cried out in delighted surprise, immediately throwing himself onto a wooden bed that was just a hard plank and rolling around.

“Heh, we should go get some furs and dry grass. It’ll be more comfortable to sleep on,” Vaughn said, stroking the slightly rough surface of the wooden bed with a look of pure contentment.

Suddenly, Sam’s timid voice called from downstairs.

“Big Brother Vaughn! Big Brother Dav! Are you home?”

Dav stuck his head out the second-floor window and grinned at Sam standing below. “Little Sam, want to move in with us? I’ll catch you a weasel and roast it for you.”

Sam looked up, twisting his hands together, and shyly declined, “N-No thanks. I’m living with Grandpa Rooney from my village. He’s old and needs someone to look after him…”

After spending the spring together, this group of human refugees had completely accepted the two rather homely-looking half-orcs. Everyone was grateful for how the two had saved their lives, and no one looked down on them for their mixed blood.

“Oh, right! Lord Pierce just asked me to find you. You should go quickly!” Sam finally remembered why he was there and hurriedly urged them.

When the two arrived at the main keep with great strides, they found Pierce already waiting at the main gate.

“Go find three more strong men, pack some rations and medicine, and leave with me immediately!” the hunter ordered bluntly.

“Yes, my lord!” Vaughn instinctively puffed out his chest in response, then his face flushed as he asked in a low voice, “Where… are we going?”

“Icefield River Valley… The patrol alchemical beasts found traces of human refugees.”

…

Harvey waited anxiously in the domain for about three days before Pierce finally returned safely.

“How is it? What’s the condition of those refugees? Are they willing to come to the domain?”

Pierce took a small glass vial from Astaren, swirled the crimson liquid inside, and gave Harvey a slightly embarrassed bow before turning his back to drink it down.

“My lord, please be patient…” The hunter had been rushing for the past two days, and his already pale face looked even more travel-worn.

“There are nearly five hundred refugees, but most are elderly, women, and children. They said they were chased all the way here by vile orcs…”

“Then did you find any trace of the vile orcs?” Harvey was alarmed. If they really encountered a large band of vile orcs, he wouldn’t be able to send support in time.

“No. After they crossed the Icefield River Valley, most of the able-bodied young men stayed behind on the riverbank to cover the retreat, letting the women and children cross first to escape.”

Pierce sighed, his hands clenching into tight fists.

“By the time we arrived, there were no survivors left on the riverbank. It seems the vile orcs had no intention of a relentless pursuit. After killing everyone in the rear guard, they simply left.”

Harvey also let out a long sigh, feeling both sympathy and regret.

Pierce continued his report, “I had Vaughn and Dav stay with the refugee camp to organize them for the slow march toward the domain. I hurried back myself to report the situation to you.”

Harvey nodded, feeling that Pierce’s arrangements were sound.

“But I’ll have to trouble you to make another trip. Take all the Wolf Spiders, aside from those on patrol duty, and go meet them,” Harvey said, frowning in thought. “I’m worried the vile orcs might turn back. Those refugees are completely defenseless now.”

Pierce bowed to accept the order. He straightened up, ready to go count the Wolf Spiders and return to the river valley.

“Wait!” Harvey called out to the exhausted hunter, then turned to Astaren and gave him a meaningful wink.

Astaren nodded slightly, took a glass test tube filled with blood from his coat, and handed it to the bewildered Pierce.

“This blood is different from what you just drank,” Harvey said lightly. “It’s not deer blood…”

Pierce froze for a second, instantly understanding Harvey’s meaning. He tucked the test tube into the pouch on his belt, bowed once more, and turned to leave.

Harvey watched the hunter depart from the main hall, then turned to joke with Astaren.

“Good thing Pierce is my only blood-sucking… Vampire. Otherwise, I’d probably have to set up a voluntary blood donation station just to meet your needs, hahahaha!”

He then summoned Rainer and gave a flurry of orders, “Have the residents who stayed behind take inventory of all the vacant houses. The refugees will arrive in two days at most. We can’t have them sleeping in tents out in the open.”

“And the food stores need to be counted as well. Set up a distribution plan based on need. We need to strictly control the daily rations for now. The next supply shipment won’t arrive for another half a month…”

Rainer nodded while taking quick notes. Only after Harvey finished speaking did he ask with some confusion, “My lord, we’re taking in so many residents, but we don’t have any work to offer them right now.”

He scratched his smooth, metallic head, his tone tinged with distress.

“And we have to provide them with free lodging and food. The supplies we worked so hard to accumulate in the storehouse will be used up very quickly…”

Harvey and Astaren couldn’t help but laugh out loud at Rainer’s miserly display.

“Don’t worry about this small initial cost. Rest assured, once they’ve had a few days to recover, I’ll have plenty of work for them. They won’t even have time to be lazy then.”

Harvey made the promise with absolute confidence.

After all, the “agricultural-type” alchemical beast he and Astaren had jointly developed was finally ready for use.

Chapter 45: Exploring the Beetle Nest

For the past few days, Harvey had been traveling frequently between Jackdaw Town and Grizzly Keep, buying up large quantities of various essential supplies for his domain.

Not long after he arrived at the main keep with the alchemical camel-beasts, Astaren and Rainer found him in a hurry.

“I’ve been observing the underground nest. It seems the beetles are about to lay their eggs again,” Astaren said as he led Harvey toward the underground laboratory.

“I think we should be able to harvest another batch of beetle ore.”

Harvey was both surprised and delighted. Of the beetle ore they had previously collected from the ruins, very little was left after using it to maintain the energy-gathering array of Unit Two and equipping it on the alchemical beasts as a high-powered weapon.

Harvey and Astaren had entered the underground nest before to observe the beetles’ life patterns, but they hadn’t collected any beetle ore at the time.

Harvey had begun to think pessimistically that the reproductive cycle of these mysterious beetles might be incredibly long.

Therefore, his hope of relying on the beetles’ rapid reproduction to harvest the ore left behind after their death was likely to be dashed.

After all, killing the beetles directly did not produce the naturally formed energy ore; it only yielded a pile of useless beetle carcasses.

Who would have thought that in just a few short months, they would show signs of mating and reproduction again?

The three of them strode excitedly toward the underground laboratory, eager to witness the beetles’ reproduction firsthand.

…

“How incredible!” Rainer exclaimed, looking at the glowing beetles swarming densely throughout the nest.

The nest, originally dug out by the beetles themselves, was not large. During the construction of the underground laboratory, Harvey had the alchemical beasts expand the nest’s space until it was half the size of the lab.

Harvey had discovered that the beetles were not proficient diggers; they likely burrowed underground only because they preferred the damp, warm environment.

Normally, these round insects with a faint metallic sheen on their carapaces did not glow.

So, Astaren believed this phenomenon only occurred during their reproductive cycle, possibly to attract mates in the darkness.

“I wonder how long their breeding cycle will last, and how long it will take for the beetle ore to form so we can harvest it.”

Rainer gently picked up a beetle, watching it wriggle its short, thin legs, struggling desperately and clumsily in his metal palm.

“What fascinating little things. They store such powerful energy in their bodies, yet they’re not aggressive at all.”

Astaren let out a scoff and took a primary magic stone from his waist, tossing it lightly into the swarm of beetles.

“That’s because the energy fluctuations in your body are sealed by inscriptions, so they can’t detect them. Look…”

The moment the magic stone landed in the swarm, it triggered a violent commotion. Countless beetles scrambled on their tiny legs, rapidly converging on it.

For a moment, an eerie rustling sound filled the entire nest.

Less than ten seconds later, the swarm dispersed, leaving only a pile of grayish-white crystal residue where the magic stone had been.

“If your alchemical body was driven by externally projected energy, you’d probably meet the same fate as that magic stone the moment you came in here.”

Rainer jumped in fright, clutching the magic stone slot on his waist and stumbling back a few steps.

Harvey pulled him back with an amused smile. “Don’t scare Rainer. The inscriptions on an alchemical body are designed to seal and guide the use of energy. As long as you don’t release a magical energy blast converted from beetle ore inside the nest, nothing will happen.”

Astaren nodded. “I’ll monitor the nest day and night to harvest this batch of energy ore as soon as it’s formed after the beetles reproduce.”

…

After returning to the underground laboratory, Astaren and Rainer went their separate ways to attend to their own tasks.

But Rainer’s question kept replaying in Harvey’s mind.

“They store such powerful energy in their bodies, yet they’re not aggressive at all…”

Perhaps to the beetles themselves, energy was merely food and nutrients to aid in their reproduction.

These beetles didn’t have many ways to obtain energy in their daily lives. After being drawn to the ancient Mage’s ruin, any edible energy sources must have been long exhausted, which was why they spent most of their time in a dormant state, looking like dull gray pebbles.

What if I periodically placed a certain amount of magic stones into the nest to actively feed them? Would that accelerate their growth and reproductive cycle?

Harvey immediately decided to partition off a separate underground space and use magic stones to raise a batch of beetles for a comparative experiment against the ones in the original nest.

“This method might really yield some unexpected results, but the consumption of magic stones is a bit terrifying. This could be called the most extravagant research in the world of spellcasting.”

Charged magic stones were reusable, while elemental and natural magic stones of a single type were for one-time use, which was why charged stones were often more expensive.

“At the next Forum gathering, I have to find a member with a large stock of magic stones or someone with direct connections to the mines of the Burrowing Dwarves. Only by establishing that connection can I get a sufficient supply of high-quality magic stones.”

He couldn’t possibly hope that a high-quality magic stone quarry would just appear out of thin air in his barren domain in the northern frontier.

…

For the next several days, Harvey holed up in the underground laboratory, closely observing the beetles’ reproductive and egg-laying activities.

In addition, he and Astaren cordoned off a corner of the lab with transparent glass to create an observation chamber, into which they placed about a hundred captured beetles.

Every day, they would deposit ten low-grade magic stones into the chamber and meticulously record the beetles’ feeding habits and speed.

“It seems they can’t absorb energy indefinitely. These hundred-odd beetles have a daily feeding limit of ten primary magic stones. See, the ones that have eaten their fill are glowing more brightly than the others.”

Astaren held a lab notebook, describing the scene in detail as he peered through the glass wall.

Harvey still felt the sting of the expense. He had less than a hundred charged magic stones in total, and in just a few days, he had already used up nearly half of them.

He couldn’t bear to use the dozen or so mid-grade magic stones to feed the insects; those were vital supplies that Rainer and Astaren had to carry with them for replenishment whenever they went out.

“I have a feeling that in just a few days, they’ll start to breed, and then after they die, they’ll transform…”

Death…

Transformation…

Dead beetle carcasses could transform into energy ore, and living beetles could actively absorb magical energy…

An idea suddenly flashed through Harvey’s mind, making him jump up from his chair.

“Astaren, what do you think… if I perform a soul transformation on a beetle and place it into an alchemical body?”

“Could we create a kind of alchemical beetle capable of actively releasing powerful energy?”

Chapter 46: The Age of “Firearms”

Harvey had opened up a new observation room in the underground laboratory.

It was for experimenting with his newly developed alchemical lifeform, or more accurately, his alchemical weapon, which was the result of the beetle’s soul transformation.

Back when research conditions were harsh, Harvey had also used insects for soul transfer experiments, though the results were less than ideal in most cases.

But the fact that an insect’s soul could slightly power an alchemical device remained indisputable.

The soul transfer experiment with the beetle was a different story now. With the immense power boost from the energy-gathering array, not only had the success rate increased severalfold, but Harvey had also meticulously redesigned the energy output pathways.

“You’re planning to use this to house the soul of an Energy-devouring beetle?” Astaren looked at the bizarrely shaped alchemical product on the lab bench, completely bewildered.

The object resembled a thick iron rod cast in one piece, but the rod itself was hollow. Its entire body was covered in dense, engraved inscriptions. A wide wooden handle was attached to one end, giving it a look that was both bizarre and harmonious.

“How was this made? I don’t recall us ever having an alchemy foundry for casting metal.”

Harvey picked up the iron rod with a grin, holding it horizontally before his chest and raising it slightly, adopting an aiming stance like drawing a bow.

“I placed a rush order for it from the Alchemical Exploration Society. Their metalworking is more than sufficient for this transformation experiment.”

The dark red soul fire in Astaren’s eye sockets flickered. He suddenly felt a sense of impatience. Grabbing a glowing beetle from the small iron cage, he secured it on a stand on the lab bench and began to urge Harvey on.

“Then be quick and show me your genius idea. The use of this thing is what I’m most interested in.”

The low hum of the energy-gathering array started and then stopped, and the inscriptions on the connected iron rod device slowly lit up.

“Not bad. It only took two beetles to complete one transfer. A fifty percent success rate.”

Harvey was quite satisfied. A success rate like this meant that as long as the beetle breeding could keep up, this thing could be mass-produced.

He disconnected the energy-gathering array and picked up the thick iron rod, which was now glowing with the light of its inscriptions.

He again held it level and raised it to his eyes, resting the end with the wooden handle against his shoulder and aiming the hollow end at the black stone wall at the far side of the observation room.

Only then did Astaren keenly notice a small, brass-colored protrusion under the wooden handle.

“What is this mechanism?”

Harvey held his aiming posture, placing his finger on the brass-colored protrusion and flicking it lightly.

Zzzzz! The inscriptions on the thick iron rod instantly flared brightly, accompanied by a strange sound.

Astaren only had time to see a pale white light shoot out from the iron tube at incredible speed, instantly disappearing into the black stone wall, leaving only a smooth, thumb-sized hole in the stonework.

“This… this is a weapon? An energy weapon?”

As if in disbelief, he walked to the wall and took out a long, thin ranging probe from his waist, inserting it into the hole.

“It… it went completely through the stone wall. The probe is too short; I can’t measure the true penetration distance.”

He turned his head, the soul fire within his metal skull’s eye sockets growing exceptionally bright.

“Harvey, this is terrifying. You must understand the significance of this invention.” His tone was one of awe, yet tinged with a hint of regret. “This will shatter the instant-casting that combat-type Spellcasters take so much pride in, putting research-type Spellcasters on equal footing with them in terms of combat power…”

Research-type Spellcasters followed the developmental philosophy of classical wizards, using magic research to drive their own advancement. Although they were closer to transcendent beings in terms of their life-form, their lack of combat experience and spellcasting skills meant that their influence was often suppressed by combat-type Spellcasters.

The Federation of Casters was a typical example. The century-long war with the Church had caused combat-type Spellcasters to rise to become the faction holding real power. If not for the outbreak of the war with the Demons, which led to massive casualties among combat-type Spellcasters, the research types would have likely faced even more severe ostracization and discrimination.

Astaren paced back and forth anxiously, muttering to himself, “If this were to leak out, we would surely face the merciless wrath of the battle mages. In their eyes, this thing must be destroyed, buried…”

He stopped abruptly, planting his hands on the lab bench and staring intently at Harvey.

“Besides instant-casting, what other properties does it have? How much magical energy does it require from the caster? How many times can you fire it?”

Harvey found his state of alarm somewhat amusing, but he managed to restrain himself from laughing.

He handed the alchemical iron tube to Astaren and explained patiently, “Its principle isn’t instant-casting.”

“Nor does it consume the caster’s own magical energy. Anyone can pick it up and fire it, as long as it has enough energy…”

Harvey smiled and gestured with his finger toward the stone wall, signaling for Astaren to verify it for himself.

“After you were transformed into an alchemical lifeform, you lost the ability to cast the spells you learned in the past, right? Try it and you’ll understand.”

Astaren didn’t seem to have fully grasped the true meaning behind Harvey’s words. He subconsciously followed Harvey’s suggestion, as if under a spell, and mimicked his earlier posture, raising the alchemical iron tube and flicking the small mechanism.

…

A second smooth hole, nearly identical in size to the first, appeared on the wall.

“A spell that can be cast without a Spellcaster…”

“An alchemical magic artifact that an ordinary person can use at will…”

“Then… what’s the point of becoming a Spellcaster?”

Astaren’s back was against the metal lab bench, his heavy alchemical body making it creak, as if it were struggling to support his crumbling ideals and beliefs.

Harvey suddenly realized he might have overdone the dramatic reveal and quickly walked over to pat his shoulder reassuringly.

“Why are you overthinking it? Don’t forget, this is something invented and created by a Spellcaster.”

“We need to accept a certain idea: Spellcasters are not the transcendent beings we’re made out to be. We are merely the lucky few who have risen above the common folk…”

Astaren accurately latched onto the phrase in Harvey’s speech—this is also something created by a Spellcaster.

Instantly, he felt his shattered faith firming up again. He pushed himself up to a standing position.

“If this magic artifact can be used at will without consuming a Spellcaster’s magical energy…”

He paused, seeming hesitant to ask the most crucial question. After a long moment, he spoke with uncertainty.

“Can it fire energy attacks repeatedly?”

Harvey nodded, pointing to the slightly dimmed glow of the inscriptions on the iron tube’s surface.

“If my calculations are not too far off, it should be able to fire three to five times repeatedly.”

“After that, it’ll need to be recharged using the energy-gathering array. After all, it’s essentially an alchemical lifeform powered by magical energy, just like you and Rainer.”

For some reason, Astaren felt a secret sense of relief. So it couldn’t be used indefinitely. It would run out of energy and become just an ordinary, non-threatening iron rod.

But Harvey’s next words plunged him back into a state verging on collapse.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. This thing can be mass-produced anyway. As long as there are enough beetles, I can arm every commoner in the territory with one in a short amount of time…”

Chapter 47: Equality in Exchange for Loyalty

The two brothers, Vaughn and Dav, climbed out of bed at the crack of dawn.

They deftly started a fire in the hearth, heated up the leftover wild boar stew from the previous night, and wolfed it down with their daily ration of barley bread.

“Vaughn,” Dav began, “I heard Uncle Runi say yesterday that after this month, the Lord won’t be providing us with free food anymore.”

Although their new house was simply furnished with a table and chairs, the two of them, long accustomed to eating while squatting, maintained their habit of squatting by the hearth to eat and drink.

Vaughn wiped his soup bowl clean with his last piece of bread, soaking up every last bit of grease.

“We got free food because we were building the main castle and the walls for the Lord. Now that the work is done and there’s nothing for us to do, why should he keep feeding us for free?”

Dav’s face creased with worry. “Those new commoners who moved in have all been assigned to clear farmland. I heard they even get paid. The Lord promised to pay us too, do you think he might…”

Vaughn wiped his mouth, stood up, and cut Dav off with a wave of his hand.

“Don’t always wait for handouts, Dav. We’re not slaves anymore. We’re freemen.”

“We’ll head to the main castle’s plaza in a bit and see if we can find some work.”

Vaughn had already thought it through. Even without the free rations, the two of them could go hunting in the mountains and wouldn’t starve.

With that, they quickly tidied up and strode barefoot toward the main castle’s plaza.

Currently, the fiefdom consisted of little more than Harvey’s keep, a few warehouses next to it for storing supplies, and a dense cluster of houses along the river.

Most of the other empty land enclosed by the walls had only been cleared of trees, with piles of miscellaneous building materials scattered about.

So there was no need to worry about getting lost; the Lord’s main castle was the tallest, most conspicuous building in the territory.

The spacious open area in front of the main castle was paved with gravel, which had been repeatedly flattened by immensely heavy alchemical camel-beasts dragging stone rollers.

A tall, eye-catching notice board stood in the plaza, but there were no documents posted on it.

Considering the tragic reality that almost none of the commoners were literate, Harvey’s chosen method was to affix a recording magic stone to the notice board to play on a loop until its magical energy ran out.

Therefore, whenever new information needed to be announced, a conspicuous red circle would be drawn on the notice board, informing the populace that the Lord’s decree would be issued at noon that day.

Vaughn clearly remembered the contents of the previous two announcements.

The first was about something he only vaguely understood, called the “Basic Law of the Fiefdom.”

In short, it meant you couldn’t do bad things. If you were caught, you’d be punished. If it was serious, you’d be executed and your body would be hung in the plaza to dry.

He had also been present for the second announcement, which was the Lord’s recruitment for people to clear farmland. However, only farmers familiar with fields and planting were eligible to apply, which had thoroughly disappointed Vaughn.

He pulled Dav along, pushing his way to the front of the crowd, using his superior half-orc physique to secure a spot near the front.

He hoped that this announcement would bring a new job suitable for him and Dav.

Vaughn prayed silently in his heart.

…

The early summer noonday sun wasn’t yet scorching. Harvey stood on the second floor of the main castle, looking down at the dense, packed crowd in the plaza.

The number of commoners who had moved into the territory was now approaching one thousand, all thanks to Pierce and his alchemical beasts repeatedly searching and patrolling the Icefield River Valley area, rescuing several groups of refugees from the barren lands who had fled there.

This had led directly to a housing shortage, forcing Harvey to make single individuals pair up and share a single house.

Rainer, holding a recording magic stone, walked into the plaza and hung it in front of the notice board.

As its magical energy was activated, the recording magic stone began to emit a clear, loud voice.

“Effective immediately, we are recruiting fifty people to form the fiefdom’s militia. The Lord will provide the militia with free food, standard-issue weapons, and a monthly salary.”

“Requirements for enlistment—male, between the ages of eighteen and thirty-five, in good health with no disabilities. Applicants with prior experience in hunting, fishing, or climbing and gathering will be given priority.”

Vaughn’s heart skipped a beat. The words “experience in hunting… will be given priority” replayed over and over in his mind.

Isn’t that me and Dav?

He remembered the Lord himself had once praised him to his face for his good aim and control when throwing stones.

Beside him, Dav was already jumping for joy, yanking on Vaughn’s arm and shouting.

“Vaughn, this is great! We can sign up for the militia!” He was already imagining himself parading through the streets in gleaming armor like those vile orc chieftains, a sharp short spear in his hand.

“So cool! That would be so cool! Mmph—” Vaughn quickly clamped a hand over Dav’s mouth to keep him from embarrassing himself further.

He looked around at the crowd and saw that many of the able-bodied young men wore eager expressions.

After the announcement finished, the crowd gradually dispersed, leaving seventy or eighty people still waiting eagerly in the plaza—the potential applicants, it seemed.

“It seems a soldier’s life is quite appealing to the common folk,” Harvey noted with a satisfied nod.

Rainer stood in the plaza, watching the crowd converge on him. After a quick scan revealed no one who was obviously unqualified, he silently led the group behind the cluster of warehouses.

They arrived at a clearing where the ground had clearly been packed and hardened. He told the men to wait there while he went to notify Pierce, who was in charge of the fiefdom’s security, to conduct the interviews and assessments.

With Rainer gone, the previously silent group of applicants relaxed, breaking into several smaller clusters based on their acquaintances and starting to talk.

This left Vaughn and Dav, the two half-orcs whose appearances already set them apart, in an awkward position.

This new group of commoners was different from the first dozen or so arrivals. They were complete strangers to the brothers and kept turning to look at them with strange glances.

Before long, the crowd parted as a group of men walked toward Vaughn and Dav.

The leader was a man in his early thirties. He walked up to the two brothers, who were squatting on the ground, and looked down at them with a disdainful sneer.

“Hah, a couple of half-man, half-beast mongrels have the gall to apply for the Lord’s guard?”

Dav flew into a rage, jumping to his feet despite Vaughn’s tugging. “What guard? The Lord is recruiting a militia, and any commoner can apply!”

The man spat hard on the ground. “So what? Whether it’s the guard or the militia, he’s recruiting us humans. What’s it got to do with you two mongrels?”

He exchanged a look with his companions flanking him and shouted to the other onlookers.

“Who here wants to sign up with mongrels? Who wants to fight alongside mongrels?”

With each question he shouted, his companions jeered in support. A few others in the crowd echoed them, but most of the commoners remained silent, unwilling to offend their own kind by standing up for the half-orcs.

Vaughn and Dav’s faces flushed red. Dav had already clenched his fists, ready to swing at that despicable face at any moment.

Vaughn gritted his teeth, forcing a weak, trembling defense from his lips.

“But… but the Lord clearly said that we are…”

Before he could finish, a clear voice interrupted him from behind.

“That’s right. I did say that within my fiefdom, all commoners are equal.”

Harvey, flanked by Rainer and Pierce, strode toward the group. The clamoring crowd immediately fell silent. Everyone lowered their heads in fear, not daring to say another word.

“Did you not hear the first law I decreed?” Harvey asked the crowd lightly.

Rainer immediately stepped forward and repeated expressionlessly, “Within Lord Harvey’s fiefdom, all commoners are equal and shall not discriminate against one another!”

The man who had started the trouble with the half-orcs suddenly looked up, his face defiant as he argued, “My Lord, but these two aren’t our kind at all! They’re mongrels born of other races…”

Harvey’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What is your name?” he asked softly.

The man lowered his head again and answered with a tremor in his voice, “My name is Wayne, my Lord.”

Harvey grunted in acknowledgment and nodded to Pierce. The hunter immediately strode up to Wayne and delivered two hard, loud slaps, knocking Wayne straight onto the ground.

Wayne’s ears were ringing, his cheeks burned with a fiery pain, and Pierce’s cold voice reached him.

“Who else dares to question the Lord’s command? Who dares to disobey?”

Everyone lowered their heads even further. Some were so frightened they even took a few steps back.

Only then did Harvey speak again, his voice slow. “Half-orcs have human blood in them too. You can consider them your half-kinsmen. You can be resentful in your hearts, you can look down on them in secret, but don’t let me catch you doing it in the open.”

He paused, then continued, “If you still aren’t convinced, then after you become my fiefdom’s militia, you can settle it with strength. We’ll see then who is the unworthy one.”

With that, he and Rainer turned and left. The crowd hastily knelt and bowed. Vaughn prostrated himself completely, his body trembling with emotion, his eyes red as tears and snot streamed down his face.

He didn’t want the others to see his pathetic, crying face, so he discreetly grabbed a handful of dirt and smeared it roughly across his cheeks.

When he looked up again at Harvey’s departing back, his gaze was filled with determination and fervor.

Astaren seemed to have deliberately lagged behind.

He half-knelt, leaned close to Wayne’s ear, and whispered in a strange, taunting tone:

“Those two once saved a dozen commoners who were seriously wounded by vile orcs in their camp. If those people find out how you insulted them today, you’d better pray and be careful when you go out at night.”

Chapter 48: The Beginnings of an Army

“Vaughn, what do you think Commander Pierce actually wants us to do?” Dav panted, turning his head constantly to talk to Vaughn as they ran.

Vaughn’s lung capacity wasn’t nearly as impressive as his. Gasping for air, he rolled his eyes, unable to spare a breath to answer.

Right behind Vaughn was a young man named Tommy, one of the few who hadn’t joined in when Vaughn and Dav were being ostracized.

After the ringleader, Wayne, was taught a lesson on the spot by the Lord, Tommy and a few other young men had taken the initiative to show goodwill to the two half-orcs, inviting them to join their small group.

Tommy was also running with gritted teeth, just like Vaughn, but his naturally extroverted and talkative nature meant that even through the struggle, he still tried to talk to Dav past Vaughn.

“Huff!… He just makes us run… puff!… Non-stop… Don’t tell me… huff… the Lord expects us… hah!… to run away when we meet the enemy?”

Hearing this, Dav immediately slowed down and turned his head again, a grin spreading across his face as he muffled a laugh.

“I’ve been in the militia for a week, and we do nothing but run every day. My feet are all callused up.”

“Why don’t you two go get your boots? Commander Pierce clearly said everyone gets a full uniform…”

“Ah, we’re different from you guys. We’re used to walking barefoot. If we wore boots, we wouldn’t just get calluses, we’d get blood blisters…”

The words had barely left Dav’s mouth when a pebble the size of a pigeon’s egg suddenly flew from a distance and smacked him on the forehead with a thud. The force was perfectly judged—it didn’t break the skin or draw blood, but a purple bruise instantly swelled up.

Vaughn jumped in surprise and glanced sideways to see Commander Pierce standing on a wooden platform, a leather sling in his hand.

He had almost forgotten that Commander Pierce was an expert with a sling.

“If you don’t start running seriously, every one of you is getting one on the head!” his cold voice rang out.

Everyone immediately straightened up, fell silent, and quickened their pace.

After they finally managed to complete the designated ten laps, the entire militia unit was exhausted and stumbling all over the place.

A few members with less stamina couldn’t hold on any longer and collapsed onto the ground, gasping for breath.

Instantly, a few more stones flew through the air, unerringly striking the soft flesh of their waists. The pain made them leap up like frogs.

“Remain standing. Rest in place for five minutes.”

Vaughn tilted his head, secretly sizing up the militia members who lacked stamina, and couldn’t help but feel a flicker of contempt.

With that level of strength, they still want to be in the militia and serve Lord Harvey.

When they were first selecting candidates, over eighty people had met the basic requirements. But Commander Pierce had made it clear from the start that they were all just considered trainees. After a month of drills, some would be cut.

Vaughn was determined. Even if he had to grit his teeth until he died, he would never give up this chance to pledge his loyalty to Lord Harvey.

When Commander Pierce announced that becoming a trainee meant receiving a full militia uniform for free, free food for the duration of their service to the lord, and even a monthly… stipend.

Although he didn’t know how much the stipend would be, when a brand-new, pure black, thick cotton uniform and a pair of shiny deerskin boots were placed before him, Vaughn couldn’t help but break into a silly grin.

He had never in his life worn anything so fine that could truly be called clothes.

Most of the time, he and Dav just wore a greasy, filthy leather loincloth, their upper bodies bare and their feet naked.

When it was time to try on the uniforms, the two of them rushed to the river and scrubbed themselves for a full half-hour, meticulously digging the mud from between their toes before they dared to put on the new clothes.

But during daily training afterwards, Vaughn was still reluctant to wear the new uniform and boots, afraid of wearing them out. Pierce gave them both a few whacks with a paddle, only to find they’d rather take the beating than wear the clothes and boots.

In the end, he could only let them go barefoot, but he strictly ordered that they must wear their uniforms.

“Rest is over! Everyone, attention! Form ranks of five! Stance training!”

At Pierce’s command, the ragged line of men reflexively snapped into formation. Every man held his head high, hands pressed flat against the sides of their thighs, backs ramrod straight.

Vaughn only lasted half an hour before the agony became unbearable; he felt it was even harder than running the ten laps. But he still gritted his teeth and persevered, not moving an inch even as sweat trickled from his forehead into his stinging, bloodshot eyes.

Taking advantage of a moment when Pierce stepped away to a covered rest area to avoid the sun…

Dav, standing in the rank in front of him, couldn’t resist secretly relaxing his posture and was about to turn his head back to chat.

“Aargh!”

A flying stone, though delayed, still arrived. Vaughn didn’t even need to look to know that Dav probably had two lumps on his head now.

Does Commander Pierce have eyes in the back of his head?

Another fifteen minutes passed, and some in the ranks began to sway, but not a single one gave up and collapsed.

Everyone knew that as long as the entire unit stood for the full hour, lunch today would include a sizzling, greasy grilled pork chop in addition to the usual barley bread and meat soup.

No one wanted to be the unlucky one who dragged everyone down and cost the whole team their pork chops.

After all, for the past month, they had all been eating and sleeping together in a large, warehouse-like barracks. If you earned someone’s resentment for holding them back, you’d likely get a blanket party after lights out.

Vaughn just didn’t quite understand what the Lord wanted them to achieve with this training. Could running and standing at attention really enable them to beat vile orcs in a one-on-one fight?

During the first week, some had grumbled in dissatisfaction, but after a straightforward lesson from Commander Pierce’s fists, no one questioned the training methods anymore.

Besides, the soft bread, hot meat soup, and fragrant roasted meat they got to eat every day were the most practical realities.

After the hour of stance training was over, Pierce, as usual, let everyone relax and rest for five minutes.

This time, no one dared to just flop onto the ground. Instead, they all bent over to rub their sore and numb legs.

“All units! Form squads of ten and advance to the mess hall at a run!”

Everyone’s spirits lifted. They immediately puffed out their chests and formed the required ranks. The man at the very front started a low chant, and everyone joined in, shouting a slogan in unison as they jogged in formation toward the mess hall.

Vaughn couldn’t help but recall the beginning of their training, when the moment Commander Pierce had called for mealtime, everyone would cheer and scatter like birds and beasts, stampeding chaotically toward the mess hall.

Of course, on those occasions, everyone had gotten exactly what they deserved and gone hungry. That was the price for not following orders.

So now, unless they heard a direct command from Commander Pierce, no one would dare to even chew if you stuffed roasted meat into their mouths.

But the sound of swallowing saliva that echoed through the ranks from time to time still occasionally drowned out the loud slogans.

“Loyal to the Lord! Obey command! Fight bravely! Protect the people!”

Vaughn had no idea how many times he had shouted this slogan, but he roughly understood its meaning.

But as the training went on, whenever they marched in neat formation past the other villagers, shouting their slogan, the villagers would look on with gazes of surprise, admiration, envy, and reverence.

Those looks always made a strange, warm current well up inside him, making him want to stick his chest out further, stand even straighter, and shout the slogan even louder.

Vaughn figured the other militia members must feel the same way he did.

It was just that, at the time, he didn’t know that this strange, satisfying feeling of accomplishment was called pride.

Chapter 49: Literacy Education

Pierce, the newly-appointed acting commander of the new territory’s militia, found himself increasingly unable to understand Harvey’s thinking.

Previously, when Harvey had him lead the militia recruits in running laps around the training grounds and then had them perform stance training under the hot sun, Pierce could understand it. Lord Harvey wanted to train a team with superior endurance and absolute obedience.

During his private lessons with Pierce, Astaren had once casually mentioned that his former wizard family had a complete set of methods for training knights.

But it required a full eight years, from the age of eight to sixteen, to cultivate a warrior proficient in various weapons and combat skills.

With another six years, a large supply of medicinal supplements, and specialized training methods to awaken the warrior’s bloodline power, they could produce a qualified knight to serve as a wizard’s personal squire.

But the most crucial prerequisite was that the trainee had to come from a knightly family with an inherited bloodline power!

Pierce thought back to the group of dull-witted commoners he was training and felt more and more that expecting them to become a fighting force was pure fantasy.

So, after persevering for a month, he finally couldn’t hold back any longer and sought out Harvey for an explanation.

“Don’t be anxious, and don’t worry that your methods are wrong.” Harvey patted Pierce’s shoulder. “In my domain, lineage doesn’t matter. Only strength speaks.”

He stood up and handed Pierce a thin booklet. “Go ahead and select two outstanding men to be captains. The militia will expand in the future, so you need to learn to cultivate your own right-hand men. Take a look at this training manual; I think it will be a great help to you.”

Pierce took the manual, opened it, and read through it quickly. His head was buzzing, and he was simply dumbfounded.

The training regimen was utterly unheard of!

At six in the morning, the assembly whistle would blow, and the team had to assemble within fifteen minutes, then begin running drills around the training square.

This was followed by military posture training, with one hour as the standard, repeated several times until noon.

After the midday break, he was to lead the entire team on a cross-country run around the territory’s perimeter wall. All militiamen were to be assessed. Team members were allowed to help each other, but everyone had to finish, with no one dropping out midway.

After lights out at night, between ten o’clock and one in the morning, an emergency assembly whistle would be blown at random, requiring all militiamen to assemble within five minutes.

“My lord, if we really put them through this, I’m afraid the team will fall apart in less than a week, won’t it?”

He casually flipped to the last page of the manual and was left completely stunned.

[Every day after dinner, before lights out, all militia members are to receive literacy training from Astaren.]

“My lord, what is… literacy training? Surely you don’t mean to have them learn magic?”

Harvey smiled. “I wish they had the talent for it, but that’s just a fantasy. I’m just having Astaren teach them to read and write so that they can understand written orders in the future.”

…

Tommy peeked his head down from the top bunk of the wooden bunk bed, looking at Vaughn, who was struggling on the bottom bunk.

He teased with a grin, “Brother Vaughn, it’s just one page. You still haven’t memorized it?”

Vaughn didn’t look up to reply, but his large, prominent ears instantly turned red.

He felt a little ashamed. Five days ago, all the militia members had begun their nightly literacy lessons, taught by Mr. Astaren, who, like Mr. Rainer, was made entirely of metal and had a tall, imposing figure.

Mr. Astaren had a gentle temperament. In the first two lessons, he taught them some basic reading, writing, pronunciation, and the corresponding alphabet.

He had even thoughtfully given everyone a copy of an alphabet pronunciation chart, telling them to memorize it in their spare time.

The task he assigned everyone was to memorize the pronunciation chart within a week. Those who could do it without mistakes would receive a reward prepared by him personally.

Tommy and the others he knew, being younger and quicker-witted, had managed to basically memorize it after just two nights.

Only Vaughn found it difficult. The assessment was fast approaching, and he was still stumbling through it.

As for Dav, he was completely lost and had chosen to give up altogether.

Vaughn wasn’t as carefree as Dav. Ever since suffering discrimination and insults from Wayne and his group, he had never forgotten the words Lord Harvey had spoken when he stood up for him.

“Once you become my militiamen, you will settle it with strength, and we’ll see who’s the one unworthy.”

He couldn’t fail. He had to become the best. He absolutely could not disappoint Lord Harvey!

…

Harvey’s prediction was spot-on. As time passed, sightings of vile orcs in the Icefield River Valley area grew more and more frequent.

It seemed the Demons’ invasion of their lands had intensified, forcing the small and medium-sized tribes, unable to resist, to migrate south, pillaging and slaughtering along the way.

“Before long, the entire Spine of the Continent Mountains will probably be swarming with vile orcs heading south,” Harvey said, looking anxiously at his only three capable assistants.

Rainer was now leading the settlers in developing the fields every day, operating the few “agricultural-model” alchemical beasts to plow the land and sow staple grains like barley and wheat.

Aside from participating in Harvey’s research experiments, he spent all his time in the fields. Several times, he even forgot to recharge and had to be carried back to the main keep after running out of energy.

Astaren had consequently taken Rainer’s place as Harvey’s lab assistant, helping him with the mass conversion of alchemical beasts and the research and development of energy ores and new weapons.

But he still had to split his time, running back and forth between providing literacy education to the militia and handling the basic education of the more than forty children under the age of sixteen in the territory.

After all, Harvey had repeatedly stressed the importance of educating the populace, which made him not dare to neglect it in the slightest, fearing it would affect Harvey’s future plans.

As for Pierce, he was so busy he barely touched the ground.

Five days a week, he had to keep a close watch on the militia’s daily training, not relaxing for a single moment.

He also had to spend two days a week taking the Wolf Spider Beasts out to patrol and scout the area near the Icefield River Valley, both to guard against vile orcs crossing the river and to rescue the scattered refugees from the barren lands.

“You never feel the shortage of hands more than when you need them!” Harvey sighed to himself, looking at his three overwhelmed assistants.

To defend the new territory he had worked so hard to build when the vile orc hordes invaded the Spine of the Continent Mountains, Harvey felt he had to make a risky move, as he lacked vast reserves of food and supplies and an army seasoned by battle.

He needed to use magical energy technology far beyond the current era to create weapons that would give him an absolute advantage in war.

And the “Magical Energy Gun,” which was already nearing the end of its development, was undoubtedly the best answer.

But this also forced him to confront a cruel problem.

The emergence of such a weapon would undoubtedly knock the once-noble and powerful Spellcasters completely off their pedestals.

And this included himself.

Astaren had repeatedly expressed his anxiety and concern over this matter. He believed that once it was exposed, or if the weapon’s technology was deciphered and replicated, it would inevitably trigger a violent conflict between the noble class and the Spellcaster class.

The Church would also take the opportunity to muddy the waters, plunging all the human kingdoms on the continent into a full-scale civil war between the three interest groups.

But Harvey felt he had no other choice.

As long as he kept the core technology and raw materials for manufacturing the weapons firmly in his own hands and gave these weapons to an army that was absolutely loyal to him…

Harvey believed he should have the ability to control the direction of events.

“I need to find a way to enhance my own personal strength. A Novice Spellcaster is indeed too weak.”

Chapter 50: Frantic Ore Research

The dwarf Copperhammer felt extremely irritable these past few days.

It was all because of a mysterious ore he had spent a full five hundred gold pounds on in the Magic Net Forum.

That scoundrel with the handle “Kel’Thuzad”!

Copperhammer thought, grinding his teeth. The other party must have been at his wit’s end with this ore, which is why he was so willing to “generously” share it and swindle more people.

What in the world was this type of mineral? Why couldn’t it be analyzed, no matter what method he used?

Copperhammer paced back and forth between his mineralogy lab and his study, frequently consulting reference books and ancient texts from various eras. He had even used up several extremely expensive analytical reagents in his experiments.

He didn’t dare to split it by force either, fearing the ore’s structure was fragile and that any magical substances it might contain would rapidly dissipate after being broken.

“Must I really post a bounty on the Forum?” The dwarf slumped dejectedly in his chair, staring blankly at the ore on the lab bench.

No! He absolutely could not show weakness on the Forum, especially not in the field of knowledge where he was most skilled and took the most pride.

After all, “Kel’Thuzad” had publicly shared information about the ore during a meeting, so most members would likely be paying attention to him, the one who had made the deal.

If anyone found out he had posted a commission on the Forum to analyze the ore, what others would say was one thing.

But that “Son of Flame” fellow would surely be the first to jump out and mock him.

Copperhammer straightened up and pulled himself together. He climbed a ladder and pulled a thick-covered, ancient tome from the bookshelf.

Annals of Magical Mineral Research from the Age of Dragons

“Copperhammer, stop wasting time on that damned ore!” the dwarven chief Noli scolded with a frown.

“To secure an invitation slot for a new Forum member, the two of us have nearly exhausted our points. The teleportation array is an almost perfect replica of the original, but we still can’t get it to successfully teleport.”

“If this continues, when autumn arrives and those shameless ore merchant guilds reach Hollowhearth City, we’ll have to pinch our noses and let them rip us off again!”

Copperhammer was hunched over the lab bench, muttering to himself as if possessed.

“You don’t understand, you don’t understand. There can’t be an ore in this world whose properties even I don’t know. Even in Araye, the Federation recognized my appraisal skills…”

He had indeed found several magical materials in the ancient text that could be used to analyze the mineral, but most of them were from nearly extinct species. Copperhammer had searched the entire treasury of Hollowhearth City and couldn’t find a single one.

“Eye of a Corrupted Gargoyle, Horn of a Half-blood Unicorn, Ink of a Demon-faced Octopus, Blood of a High-ranking Vampire…”

These incredibly precious spellcasting components could probably only be found by breaking into the magical treasury of a Legendary Caster.

Wait!

A sudden flash of inspiration struck Copperhammer. A Legendary Caster… isn’t there one in the Magic Net Forum!

He leaped up from his chair, lunged at Chief Noli, and grabbed him by the collar, his eyes bloodshot as he asked urgently.

“How many Forum points do you have left?”

…

With the addition of new members to the Magic Net Forum, Harvey had received several more payments for the magical teleportation array.

This slightly improved his somewhat strained cash flow, which had been tight due to the rapid construction of his territory and the bulk purchase of living supplies.

He used these funds to purchase a batch of hollow iron pipes, integrally cast, from the Dragonstone Merchant Guild. This metalworking technique could only be achieved by the workshops under the Alchemical Exploration Society.

And the Dragonstone Merchant Guild had always worked closely with the various industries of the Esoteric Society, making them the most suitable middleman.

Harvey wasn’t the least bit worried about paying the price difference for the goods or the high shipping costs.

After all, these materials were for forging “Magical Energy Guns.” When it came to the important matter of strengthening his own capabilities, Harvey never skimped on money.

Of course, ordinary iron pipes were certainly not as good as the first prototype “Magical Energy Gun,” which was forged from alchemical metal mixed with magical materials.

This was because ordinary iron pipes were inferior to alchemical metal in terms of both engraving inscriptions and energy conduction.

The “Magical Energy Guns” produced this way not only had half the range and penetration power of the original, but their number of shots was also limited to three, after which they would need to be recharged using an energy-gathering array before they could be used again.

Harvey’s idea was to first make fifty of them and make do!

After all, the vile orcs were practically at his doorstep. With a gun in hand, he wouldn’t panic!

“Are you really going to put such terrifyingly powerful weapons in the hands of those commoners?”

Astaren asked again, sounding a little uncertain.

Harvey put down the assembly parts in his hands and comforted him with a relaxed expression, “Why are you still hung up on this? I’m not going to hand out all the weapons at once.”

He pointed to the five newly assembled “low-spec Magical Energy Guns” on the lab bench.

“Pierce needs to be equipped with one so he can be the first to familiarize himself with its use and practice aiming and firing repeatedly. The remaining four will be given to the militia’s squad leader and deputy squad leader. These are people whom Pierce has personally evaluated and observed; their loyalty and competence shouldn’t be a major issue.”

Harvey paused, then added, “Don’t worry. Even if these weapons accidentally fall into enemy hands, they won’t be able to replicate them without beetle ore as the raw material. Furthermore, without an energy-gathering array for recharging, it’s just a useless iron fire poker.”

Astaren let out a slow sigh, seemingly completely convinced.

“Alright, I’ll have Pierce come test the gun tomorrow.”

…

Pierce rushed to the underground laboratory early in the morning and completely familiarized himself with the new weapon in just half an hour.

The black iron tube, capable of firing a powerful burst of magical energy, could be fired simply by raising it to aim. Just like drawing a bow and shooting an arrow countless times in the past, he just had to gently squeeze the brass-colored trigger at the bottom of the wooden grip.

Pierce had always considered himself talented at hunting and killing. He was skilled with all types of hunting bows, adept with short swords and daggers, and almost never missed with a lasso or a sling. But these were skills that required years of repeated practice and real combat to master.

Mastering a magical weapon in half an hour wasn’t entirely due to Pierce’s own comprehension and experience; it was simply because this strange iron tube weapon was far too simple to operate.

After practicing the aiming and shooting stance Harvey had taught him a few times, Harvey had him pick up a fully charged “Magical Energy Gun” to test-fire it and see the results.

The target was, of course, the incredibly hard black stone wall of the observation room.

Pierce stood fifteen meters away, leveled the “Magical Energy Gun” to aim, and squeezed the trigger.

Tsss! With a soft sound, a beam of white light shot out from the muzzle.

A third hole with smooth edges appeared on the stone wall fifteen meters away.

“It didn’t punch all the way through the wall. It seems the power is greatly reduced.” Astaren, as usual, took out a measuring probe, expertly inserting it into the hole. He found that the energy beam had only penetrated halfway through the half-meter-thick wall.

Pierce also went over to the wall to observe. He had been in charge of cutting and trimming these incredibly hard black stone blocks when the basement was being built, so he knew exactly how hard they were.

Even Rainer had to swing his hammer with all his might just to chip off a tiny fragment!

“This penetration… it’s too terrifying.” The hunter looked at Astaren in alarm. “Doesn’t that mean it could even pierce your and Rainer’s alchemical bodies…”

Rainer, who had just arrived at the laboratory, heard Pierce’s alarmist words and quickly chimed in, “It could only pierce this patched-together body of mine. It wouldn’t shatter Mr. Astaren’s high-grade alchemical body.”

Harvey and Astaren were both amused. Rainer was once again sneakily hinting that Harvey should get him a better-quality alchemical body.

“Alright, alright, stop beating around the bush with your complaints, Rainer. Your new body will arrive in a few months. It’s a custom order I placed especially for you.”

The soul fire in Rainer’s eye sockets brightened instantly. “Really? My lord, I… I’m just so…”

He seemed to want to throw his arms around Harvey but feared he would use too much force and break Harvey’s ribs. He could only raise his hands high by Harvey’s side and cheer loudly.

“Long live my lord! Long live my lord! I’m finally getting an upgrade!”

Chapter 51: Three-Party Online Transaction

Harvey was dragged straight from his soft bed by Rainer and dazedly escorted to sit in front of the Magic Brain device.

He had been pulling all-nighters with Astaren to rush the first batch of Magical Energy Guns, which had completely upended Harvey’s sleep schedule and left him utterly exhausted.

If he hadn’t told Rainer to wake him up no matter what, he would have missed this week’s Forum exchange.

By the time Harvey slowly logged into the Magic Net Forum, he found that the initial pleasantries of the meeting were already over.

[Spellshield: The Demons’ offensive in the Evil Moon Mountain Range has suddenly weakened. Why didn’t they press their advantage? The hybrid demonic beasts clearly gave them a very favorable position…]

[Son of Flame: Maybe the hybrid demonic beasts consume too many resources, and their supply lines are on the verge of collapse?]

[Frost Giant: In your dreams. The Federation hasn’t succeeded in a single raid on the Demons’ supply lines this year.]

[Son of Flame: Then you tell us, why did they suddenly weaken their offensive?]

[Frost Giant: What’s it to me!]

[Earth's Favored: @Mr. Frost Giant, have you made any progress in your research on the unknown mineral?]

Harvey noticed that “Frost Giant” didn’t reply to this message for a long time. It seemed someone had touched a sore spot.

It looked like the Forum member who prided himself on his “superb ore identification skills” had also hit a wall trying to analyze the beetle ore.

Harvey wasn’t the least bit worried. All he had to do was wait for the other party to come to him, then sell his research findings for a high price.

After all, the other party only had a single piece of the ore; Harvey had no fear of his techniques being cracked or replicated.

Even if these miraculous beetle creatures could be found elsewhere on the continent, Harvey was confident that no one would happen to possess a legendary-level spellcasting material—the blood of a high-level vampire—and then, by an even greater coincidence, use it to conduct analytical experiments on the ore.

[Frost Giant: You should direct that question to the one who started it all. @Mr. Kel'Thuzad should be the one to consider whether he's willing to share.]

What a clever trick to save face by diverting attention, Harvey couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

This Forum member with the handle “Frost Giant” had quite the ego.

[Kel’Thuzad: My apologies, but my research is also very preliminary. Before I achieve any further breakthroughs, I won’t be considering sharing it with everyone.]

Harvey wasn’t short on points and saw no need to publicize high-level knowledge in exchange for points and Forum prestige.

Besides, when it came to prestige, who could possibly compare to the mysterious and powerful “Administrator Turing”?

His main objective today was to find a way to trade for a powerful, third-circle spell suitable for his Novice Spellcaster level during the exchange—ideally a necromancy spell, or another spell that could be cast using death energy.

But asking for a trade directly would immediately blow his cover as a high-level caster, exposing his true newbie status in an instant.

A high-level caster needing to trade for a novice-level spell on the Forum? The very idea would be a joke in the spellcasting world. So, Harvey needed to think of a tactful excuse to explain it away.

Sure enough, as soon as the exchange ended, “Frost Giant” immediately sent Harvey a private message.

[Frost Giant: Mr. Kel’Thuzad, regarding the progress on the ore research you mentioned during the exchange, would you be willing to share it for a price?]

[Kel’Thuzad: What are you offering in exchange? I am not lacking in points, nor am I interested in a direct monetary transaction.]

[Frost Giant: Haha, I anticipated as much. A Spellcaster like you, who can successfully explore the ruins of ancient wizards, must be a battle mage, correct?]

Harvey neither confirmed nor denied it, leaving the message unanswered for a moment to maintain the mystery of his identity.

[Frost Giant: I don’t mean to pry into your identity. If you don’t mind, I would like to bring in another member of the Forum to facilitate a three-way trade that will satisfy everyone.]

Well, I’ll be. Mr. Frost Giant actually had such an unconventional and forward-thinking business sense. That was truly impressive.

Harvey deliberately pretended to consider it for a moment before replying with a nonchalant agreement.

Shortly after, the handle “The Scorching Sovereign” lit up on the crystal slate. The member, a suspected Legendary Caster, had joined the private chat between Harvey and Frost Giant.

[Frost Giant: Mr. Scorching Sovereign is a powerful Spellcaster with an extensive collection. I will provide an item he requires, and he, in turn, will provide an item that Mr. Kel’Thuzad needs. This rotational trade will ensure all three of us profit.]

[The Scorching Sovereign: I have no objections, but I will assess whether Mr. Kel’Thuzad’s request matches the value of the item I will receive.]

[Frost Giant: But of course. If the items are of unequal value, I am willing to compensate for the difference.]

[Kel’Thuzad: I have no objections either.]

Harvey had already prepared his excuse, but with The Scorching Sovereign, a suspected Legendary Caster, as the trading partner, he felt he could afford to be a little greedier.

[Kel’Thuzad: A Necromancer friend of mine needs to prepare a basic third-circle necromancy spell for his apprentice. However, my friend is a combat-type Spellcaster with little experience in spell research. Therefore, I wish to trade for an originally created necromancy spell, or a modified one…]

Harvey planned to start with a sky-high demand and let them negotiate down.

Originally created spells were indeed incredibly rare. Most Spellcasters would treat them as their ultimate trump cards, not something to be casually traded.

However, a basic third-circle original spell fell into a more awkward category. At the end of the day, it was still basic, its power not even remotely comparable to intermediate or advanced standard spells.

Spells of this type were often just minor byproducts, things Legendary Casters created on a whim for practice during their research.

[The Scorching Sovereign: Do you require a combat-type or a support-type spell?]

Harvey’s eyes lit up. He felt this deal might just work. He quickly typed his reply.

[Kel’Thuzad: Combat-type. My friend’s Necromancer faction consists entirely of combat-type mages.]

[Frost Giant: Heh, it seems he was a comrade who explored the ruins with you. Your friendship is admirable!]

[The Scorching Sovereign: A basic third-circle necromancy spell, originally created. It’s called Mirror Curse. The effect is to create an illusory mirror image identical to the caster. This image will follow the caster’s will and inflict a curse upon a designated target. The curse directly harms the target’s soul and cannot be nullified by any basic defensive spell, though it can be dispelled by Radiant Divine Magic.]

Harvey stared at the text on the crystal slate, so stunned that he froze for several seconds before coming to his senses.

As expected of an original spell from a Legendary Caster—it was a curse, one of the most powerful forms of forbidden magic. Mr. Scorching Sovereign was truly audacious, so brazenly displaying his ability to research and create forbidden spells.

[Kel’Thuzad: I accept the trade. This is a reasonably powerful spell.]

[Frost Giant: Excellent. Mr. Scorching Sovereign will deliver the spell to me shortly. I will hand it over after Mr. Kel’Thuzad and I have verified the ore research findings.]

[The Scorching Sovereign: Very reasonable. So be it.]

With that, the legendary figure’s handle instantly went dark. The speed at which he logged off genuinely astonished Harvey.

[Kel’Thuzad: You might want to try experimenting more with materials from non-human races for your ore analysis. Dragon subspecies, Mutated Elves, Soul-Devouring Sirens, high-level vampires… but I’m not certain yet, I’m still in the process of testing. After all, most of these creatures are on the verge of extinction and are difficult to capture alive.]

[Frost Giant: Hahaha! I knew it! My research was heading in the right direction! So it really is analyzed using magical energy-rich materials from non-human races!]

Harvey felt he could almost picture the man dancing with joy on the other side of the crystal slate.

[Frost Giant: So if you can’t get these materials, how did you arrive at this conclusion?]

[Kel’Thuzad: I used some substitute materials that triggered an analytical reaction in the ore, but it wasn’t ultimately successful. Besides, I do have some materials in stock. It doesn’t matter if I don’t have live specimens.]

[Kel’Thuzad: I will compile a list of the substitute materials that caused a reaction and send it to you, to aid in your experimental observations…]

Harvey figured that providing a heap of wrong answers mixed with one correct answer that was incredibly difficult to obtain didn’t count as completely swindling the guy.

Less than half an hour after he logged off, the small teleportation array hummed to life. Its inscriptions lit up and then faded.

A scroll, fastened with a magic seal, lay quietly in the center of the teleportation array.

This was a common method Spellcasters used to keep documents confidential. If a magic seal was forcibly broken, it could never be restored or reapplied, making it obvious to the recipient that the contents had been compromised.

Harvey picked up the parchment scroll, its surface gleaming with the light of sigils. He drove his magical energy into his fingertip, gently shattering the seal, and slowly unrolled the scroll.

A spell matrix of an indescribable, strange beauty and a rhythmic flow to its lines unfolded before Harvey.

It was the third-circle necromancy spell personally created by a Legendary Caster—Mirror Curse.

Chapter 52: Payday

“All units, ready! Raise rifles, aim! Fire!”

Vaughn gritted his teeth and lifted the heavy wooden stick in his hands. Following his training, he pressed one end against his shoulder, holding it parallel to his eyes.

The stick, carved from the ironwood unique to the forest, was just over a meter long but had a substantial weight, nearly five kilograms.

On a normal day, he could have easily lifted a dozen such ironwood sticks at once.

But this was the three hundredth time he had raised this coarse stick today.

Aching numbness and soreness spread through his arms, and Vaughn felt he was about to give out. Beside him, Dav and Tommy had been grunting through clenched teeth since the two hundredth repetition.

However, the conditioned reflexes from nearly two months of grueling training made him obey the command subconsciously. This strange perseverance surprised even himself.

“All units, ready! Fix bayonets! Thrust!”

The next command came swiftly from Pierce. The men immediately drew pointed spikes with ring clasps from their waists, skillfully attaching them to the front of their sticks, and gripped them with both hands in perfect unison.

“Kill! Kill! Kill!” With low, hoarse shouts, everyone thrust their spike-tipped sticks forward with the same force and angle, completing three rapid thrusts.

“All units! At ease, rest in place!”

Vaughn heard a collective sigh of relief around him and let out his own breath. He tucked the stick under his arm, sat down hard on the ground, and began to rub his swollen, aching arms.

Several new blisters had formed on his already rough, calloused palms. Vaughn popped them without a second thought, even grinding them forcefully into the sand and dirt on the ground.

“Brother Vaughn, why are you doing that again?” Tommy scooted closer on his bottom. “The officer said if we get blisters on our hands or feet, we have to go to Uncle Runi in logistics and get some ointment.”

Dav chimed in, “That’s right! Officer Pierce said that if you don’t treat wounds, they’ll rot. I think he called it… infection.”

Vaughn pouted but said nothing. He wasn’t that fragile, he thought to himself.

Even now, he still didn’t understand the purpose behind Officer Pierce’s strange and rigorous training methods.

But he had to admit that after nearly two months of this ordeal, the entire militia unit had begun to look the part. Whether in their daily routines, drill formations, grueling long-distance marches, or even today’s bizarre rifle-lifting exercise, they had developed distinct characteristics—instant obedience and perfect uniformity.

Their purpose was definitely not just simple daily patrols or fighting the few stray vile orcs that wandered near the territory.

Vaughn couldn’t help but recall the large-scale wars between vile orc tribes he had witnessed in the past. The war drums would thunder, the horns would blow, and then a chaotic swarm of warriors would charge in, slaughtering each other in a bloody, disorganized mess.

He now had a faint feeling that, compared to his unit’s uniformity, that level of melee felt as crude and ugly as a brawl between village thugs at the edge of town.

…

“Vaughn, it’s payday today!”

After the training session, Pierce walked to the front of the formation with a briefcase and announced that today they would be issuing the stipend promised by their Lord. From now on, the end of every month would be designated as payday.

Ignoring their post-training exhaustion, the men cheered, raising their arms in the air.

Pierce then pulled out a roster and, starting with the squad leaders and moving down to the regular members, called out each person’s name to come forward and receive their pay.

“Huh? This… this isn’t coin? This… isn’t this just a piece of paper?”

Wayne, who like Vaughn had been selected as a squad leader, couldn’t help but ask when he and Vaughn simultaneously received a stack of colorful little paper slips from Pierce.

Vaughn subconsciously took the stack of slips and rubbed them between his fingers, noticing that they didn’t wrinkle in the slightest.

“This paper is so beautiful!” Vaughn muttered to himself.

The front of the slips was adorned with complex patterns and designs, with a large number printed in the center. The back depicted a sketch of the Lord’s castle, looking remarkably lifelike.

“Fifty? This symbol means fifty.” After one or two months of literacy education, Vaughn could easily remember the meaning of every numerical symbol; they were, after all, the easiest to memorize.

Pierce’s cold voice rang out, and the chattering crowd immediately fell silent.

“Within Lord Harvey’s territory, you may only use this paper currency, called the ‘gold yuan,’ for all transactions.”

“You can be dissatisfied, and you can go to the designated currency exchange at the market to trade these notes for metal coins. But I can guarantee you that with those metal coins, you won’t be able to buy a single pig bristle in this territory.”

The implication was clear: anyone who thought this stack of “gold yuan” was worthless paper could go exchange it for silver coins or gold pounds right now, then get out of the territory and fend for themselves.

…

After a brief explanation, Pierce announced the end of the day’s training and dismissed the militia.

“Brother Vaughn, can this stuff really buy anything?” Tommy asked, still skeptical as he pinched the folded notes in his hand. “We should probably exchange them for coins. The militia provides food and lodging anyway, so we can just save the money.”

Dav, however, grinned dismissively. “The officer said we can use it, so we can use it. I don’t care about anything else. I want to buy a new pair of boots!”

The heel of one of his logistics-issued leather boots had long since worn through from the high-intensity daily drills. He would have to wait until the second half of the year for the next free uniform set. Having grown accustomed to the light, soft leather boots, he was no longer willing to walk barefoot.

Vaughn nodded. he wanted a pair of leather gloves to protect his hands. Constantly getting blisters was becoming an inconvenience.

The small group chatted as they walked, soon arriving at the public market in the riverfront residential area.

It had just opened a week ago, but the neat rows of stalls had been empty. At that time, the territory was still in the phase of distributing supplies. No one had any money in their pockets, so no one paid any attention to an empty market.

Today was different. By the time they arrived, it was nearly evening, and the market was bustling with people. Most of them were crowded around a single wooden stall, arguing loudly about something.

“Can… can I exchange these for coins?”

“My lord, can these paper slips really be traded for grain?”

“What about meat? Can we get meat with them?”

Rainer, dressed in a standard Mage robe, sat inside the wooden stall, flanked by two towering alchemical beasts that exuded an intimidating presence.

“Those who wish to exchange for coins, please form a line and do so in an orderly fashion. Our Lord has made a promise, and he will absolutely not go back on his word.”

He rotated his metal skull of a head, the faint blue soul fire in his eye sockets flickering as he scanned the crowd surrounding the stall. Frightened, everyone took a few steps back.

In the end, a small group of people steeled themselves and came forward to exchange their paper money for coins before scurrying away from the market.

After all, these metal coins were not in circulation within the territory. To buy anything, they would have to barter with others.

Vaughn only watched for a short while before nudging Tommy and asking with a hint of mockery, “Still want to exchange yours?”

Tommy shook his head timidly. He was terrified of those metal monsters and had no desire to offend that old metal Mage Lord, Rainer.

“Then let’s go. Let’s buy ourselves something nice to reward ourselves for a month of hard work!”

The group walked over to a spacious wooden stall and found it filled with various woven wicker baskets, each piled high with all sorts of exquisite foods.

“Wow! Smoked venison! It smells so good…” Dav swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on a basket overflowing with smoked meat.

“This is fresh, tender lamb! Heavens! It looks so plump and tender!” Tommy also began to drool, staring at another basket of food.

Vaughn walked along the row of food baskets, his eyes landing on a basket of meat with a golden-brown sheen that looked extremely tempting.

“This is…”

“Ha! Brother Vaughn! What are you doing here?” Sam poked his head out from within the wooden stall, his voice full of pleasant surprise.

Vaughn was just as surprised. “Little Sam, what are you doing here?”

Sam grinned. “I’m working! The public market is operated exclusively by the Lord. We’re all salesclerks, and we get a salary. Plus, if our sales… uh, performance is good, there’s a bonus.”

Vaughn frowned, confused. “Weren’t you supposed to be in school? Why aren’t you going? If you’re illiterate, you’re useless.”

He still remembered the classic line from Mr. Astaren, the man who taught them literacy and knowledge.

Sam wasn’t afraid of his stern expression and continued to explain cheerfully, “I only work here at night. I attend school properly during the day.”

He turned and brought out a large, flat wooden tray laden with various types of meat cut into small pieces.

“Here, Brother Vaughn, try some of these good things!”

Vaughn was instantly alarmed and clamped his hand over Sam’s mouth. “What are you shouting about? This is all the Lord’s property! How dare you just give it away for people to eat!”

“Mmph… mmph… this was… mmph… meant to be… a free sample!” Sam struggled to break free.

“The Lord said that customers can try some of the food for free. If they like it, then they can buy it!”

While Vaughn was still hesitating, Dav cut in, snatching a small piece of the golden-brown meat and popping it into his mouth.

“Mmm… delicious! So fragrant! And so… crispy!” Dav’s eyes lit up, and he reached for the tray again.

Sam quickly pulled the tray away, smiling. “This is fried pork cutlet. If you like it, you should buy some. Please help my sales performance!”

Vaughn tried a piece as well. The crispy texture and rich, fatty aroma made him squint his eyes in pleasure.

It was… it was so good! He had never eaten meat this delicious in his entire life!

“Look at my salary. How much can this buy?” He pulled out all the paper money he had received that day.

Sam skillfully took it and counted. “Fifty, ten, ten… Wow! Brother Vaughn, your salary is so high! A full one hundred gold yuan!”

He pointed to a wooden price tag stuck in the fried pork cutlet basket. “Five gold yuan can buy one pound of pork cutlet. Are you sure you want to spend all your salary on it? It’ll go bad if you can’t finish it.”

Vaughn had never seen any currency in his life, so he naturally had no concept of money. He waved his hand decisively. “Ten pounds of pork cutlets! The smoked venison will last longer, so spend the rest of the money on that.”

Tommy leaned in and whispered a reminder, “Leather gloves…”

“I’ll buy them next month, after I get paid!”

Chapter 53: A Note on Going Premium! Please Support the First Chapter!

Yesterday, I suddenly received a notice from my editor that the book will be going premium at eight o’clock tonight…

This is my first time writing a book, my first time getting a contract, and also my first time going premium.

The original plan was to apply to go premium when the first volume reached its climax, at around one hundred eighty thousand words.

I’m very grateful for every reader’s support and encouragement over this short past month. I have also received all of your opinions and suggestions.

I plan to start revising some of the logical inconsistencies and detailed issues in the earlier chapters in a few days.

I won’t elaborate on how difficult it is for a new, part-time author, but it is indeed a bit harder than it is for the full-time veterans.

I can only promise to update at least five to six thousand words daily, which will be two or three chapters, depending on their length.

If I run into a business trip or some other delay, I will use my pre-written drafts to fill in. I will absolutely not miss an update.

…

In any case, the book will officially go premium at eight o’clock sharp tonight. I’ll start by releasing three chapters! (I took a day of annual leave today to write like a maniac at home!)

Finally, please subscribe to the first chapter! Please keep following the latest updates!

Chapter 54: Testing the Guns

After the Northern Barren Lands entered summer, the temperature didn’t rise all that much.

The temperature difference between morning and evening was still significant, and most of the residents who needed to work outdoors still wore relatively thick cotton overcoats.

After completing his mandatory daily spell practice, Harvey stood on the second-floor balcony of the main keep, gazing at the bustling crowd in the distance. He couldn’t help but sigh, “The territory is finally on the right track for development…”

Astaren squinted at the morning sun on the horizon. “After the first payday, about a hundred residents still chose to exchange their gold yuan banknotes for metal coins.”

Harvey shook his head, not particularly concerned. “Let them be. I’m no longer providing them with free food, and they’ll have to pay monthly rent for the temporary housing I’ve given them. They won’t be able to hold out for long.”

Astaren asked, puzzled, “What if they choose to flee the territory with the money? Once they cross Raven Ridge, they can go live in any of the human kingdoms to the south of the mountains.”

“Have you forgotten the Pioneer’s Decree the earl granted me? According to the kingdom’s laws, anyone who signs a contract with the lord of a pioneer territory must pay a fine to the lord if they wish to move away. They can leave if they want, but they can’t take a single coin with them.”

At worst, he would only lose the cost of the food he had provided for free. Compared to the profits he was raking in from the Magic Net Forum, it was barely worth mentioning.

Harvey turned and instructed Astaren, “Tell Rainer to arrange for people to go door-to-door as soon as possible. I want a full count of the residents who have stayed—how many people are in each household, their specific names, and what jobs they currently hold. Register all of it.”

“I want to have a real-time understanding of my territory’s population every month. This is called a population census…”

…

In the afternoon, under a sun that was slightly scorching, Harvey and Astaren arrived at the militia training grounds.

Upon seeing them, Pierce, who was drilling the militia troops, hurried forward to salute and greet Harvey.

This area, located on the north side of the territory near the perimeter wall, had been officially converted into a militia training camp.

Three single-story barracks had been built for housing, each capable of accommodating fifty people. Currently, only two were occupied, with the remaining empty one being temporarily used as a classroom for night studies.

It was also equipped with a mess hall for centralized meals in the morning and evening, as well as a logistics department for distributing daily training supplies.

Pierce had organized the eighty recruited militiamen into ten-man squads, appointing a squad leader and a deputy leader for each. In total, he had selected sixteen of the more capable individuals to serve as grassroots militia officers.

“We now have day and night shifts taking turns to patrol the territory’s perimeter, with two separate shifts responsible for security patrols within the territory,” Pierce reported the daily arrangements to Harvey with clear fluency.

“However, I’m still personally responsible for reconnaissance and patrols in the outer forests, far from the center of the territory, along with the alchemical beasts. The militia has been training for too short a time, and I worry they won’t be able to handle the stray vile orcs that wander over.”

Harvey frowned slightly, pondering for a moment before saying, “Their training progress isn’t slow, but they certainly lack practical combat experience. Pierce, starting this month, you and Rainer will begin arranging simulated combat drills for them.”

“I don’t want to see a large number of casualties due to inexperience when we finally have an all-out war with the vile orcs.”

Pierce nodded repeatedly in agreement, only then noticing Astaren take five very familiar metal tubes from the pouch on his back.

“Are these… the powerful magic weapons I tested the other day?”

Harvey nodded with a smile, handing one to Pierce. “It’s called a Magical Energy Gun. This one was crafted especially for you. It can fire five consecutive shots. After it’s used up, it needs to be recharged on an energy-gathering array.”

Overwhelmed, Pierce accepted it with trembling hands. He gently caressed the exquisite inscriptions engraved on the gun’s body, finding it hard to put down.

“As for the remaining four, you need to select four members who are skilled with bows or slings. Have them practice firing repeatedly until they are completely familiar with the operation of this weapon.”

“Of course, these are lower-end models. They can only fire three times consecutively.”

Pierce asked with some uncertainty, “Are we really going to give such powerful weapons to the militiamen?”

“Of course,” Astaren interjected. “We came here today specifically to let you test the guns.”

…

Three wooden cages were suddenly pushed onto the training field, each imprisoning a live vile orc.

These were all captured by Pierce during his recent patrols and brought back for Harvey’s experiments.

The militia stood in neat square formations on the field. With their lord watching from a high platform nearby, no one dared to whisper. They all puffed out their chests, trying their best to make a good impression.

Still, many of them glanced at the roaring vile orcs in the cages, a hint of fear in their eyes.

“All squad leaders, fall out!”

Vaughn’s spirits lifted. He and the other squad leaders strode forward to the front of the formation.

With a grim expression, Pierce pulled a Magical Energy Gun from a nearby weapon rack, stood before the militiamen, and raised it high for all to see.

“This is a new weapon bestowed upon us by our lord, called the Magical Energy Gun! Now, watch my demonstration carefully to learn how to use it.”

With that, he turned to face the cages and gave a slight nod to a logistics staff member nearby, who immediately grabbed a long iron hook and unlatched the grating of one of the cages.

The vile orc inside froze for a moment, but it reacted in the next second, lunging out of the cage and charging straight for Pierce, who was only a few steps away.

Some militiamen began to tremble uncontrollably, but none of them took a step back.

The hunter stood his ground, motionless. He quickly raised the gun, pressed the stock against his shoulder, aimed the muzzle at the target, and gently pulled the trigger.

Before anyone could react, a thumb-sized hole appeared in the center of the vile orc’s bare chest. The edges were slightly charred and blackened, and not even a drop of blood flowed out.

With a thud, the vile orc fell backward onto the ground. It didn’t even twitch before becoming a corpse.

Pierce shoved the gun into the hands of the nearest squad leader and shouted, “Did you see that clearly? You’re next!”

The squad leader nodded, trembling. He copied Pierce’s form, raising the barrel and aiming at the vile orc in another cage. Without taking proper aim, he immediately pulled the trigger.

After a hiss, a corner of the now-empty cage was blown to smithereens, sending wood splinters flying.

“Did I tell you to shoot the cage?! You and your deputy are on latrine duty for the week!” Pierce, feeling he had lost face, roared through gritted teeth.

“Next! You!” Wayne also took the gun with trepidation, squinting as he fired at the wooden cage holding the vile orc.

This time, he didn’t even hit the cage. Nothing happened at all…

It seemed a suitable candidate for next week’s latrine duty had been found.

“Next! Fall out!” Dav was luckier. Although he also fired blindly, he managed to hit the vile orc’s arm. The energy beam from the barrel blew half its arm clean off.

A collective gasp went through the ranks, while Dav’s squad broke into quiet cheers.

“Not bad, but your aim needs practice! Again! Next!”

Vaughn stepped forward and took the gun from Pierce. He first inspected the strange, long-stocked weapon, then carefully recalled his superior’s posture when firing, perfectly mimicking his movements as he raised the gun and took aim.

Pierce’s eyes narrowed slightly. He gave a subtle signal to the logistics staffer, who understood immediately and used the long iron hook to lift the cage’s grating.

Seeing the miserable state of its companion seemed to have stirred the bloodlust in this vile orc. It let out a loud roar and charged forward ferociously.

Vaughn remained completely unaffected. He stood with his feet slightly apart, holding the gun rock-steady as he aimed for the vile orc’s chest and pulled the trigger.

The charging vile orc was slammed backward as if struck by an invisible hammer, tumbling to the ground. Its entire left shoulder was obliterated, and its neck was also caught in the blast, causing blood to fountain out.

“Hmm… your aim was a little off, but you’ve got good nerve.” Pierce nodded slightly, finally feeling like he had regained some face.

He turned his head to look at Harvey on the high platform and saw that his lord was also smiling and nodding at him. Pierce couldn’t help but let out a long sigh of relief.

It seemed his lord was satisfied with the militia…

Chapter 55: The Militia’s First Battle

Harvey led Astaren to a guard post on the edge of the territory’s wall.

Pierce, leading two patrol squads of militia, was already waiting there. Upon seeing their lord, they all bowed in greeting.

“What’s the situation? Was it a false alarm from the sentry alchemical beasts, or are there actually vile orcs roaming nearby?”

“My lord, I’m afraid it is the vile orcs,” Pierce answered calmly. “Judging by the path of their tracks and the footprints, these aren’t the stragglers who fell behind the main group like before.”

He had his men bring over a Wolf Spider Beast with mangled limbs to show Harvey.

“You see, they used javelins to precisely destroy the Wolf Spider Beast’s legs. This shows they are very experienced in combat and can quickly identify an enemy’s weakness.”

Harvey nodded. “Tighten security. Deploy all the sentry alchemical beasts to the perimeter.”

The sentry alchemical beasts were created through the soul transformation of avian creatures. They had no offensive capabilities whatsoever; their only function was to let out a piercing shriek upon encountering an enemy, which would trigger a chain reaction to transmit a signal to the receiver in the main keep.

Harvey had also asked Pierce how Jackdaw Town had defended against vile orc invasions in the past, only to learn that there had never been any truly effective methods.

The vile orcs were exceptionally skilled at traversing the mountains, making it impossible for ordinary human soldiers to pursue them effectively. Unlucky patrol members would be sent as cannon fodder to outposts at the foot of the mountains, tasked with monitoring the vile orcs’ movements as they crossed the ridges. But often, before they could even send a message, they would be picked off by a javelin.

As for the Federation’s Spellcasters, it was even more unlikely that they would venture into the mountain forests to engage in close-quarters combat. They could only wait for the enemy to launch a large-scale invasion of villages and towns before organizing an effective counterattack.

It was then that Harvey realized he had been paying too much attention to the static defenses of his core territory, overlooking a crucial issue.

That was, from which direction would the vile orcs attack?

The so-called core area of the territory currently consisted of the lord’s keep, the residential area along the river, the market district, and the militia barracks near the wall.

The newly cultivated farmland was located on a gentle slope near the foot of the mountains, making it difficult for the vile orcs to bypass the core area to attack it.

Therefore, the best method of defense was to find a way to proactively lure the enemy, guiding the vile orcs from a designated direction into a designated battlefield to engage the militia.

…

In a dense forest lay a natural, open clearing where dozens of tall figures were busy moving cargo.

A large bonfire was lit in the center of the camp. Perhaps due to the addition of too much damp firewood wet with morning dew, the fire did not burn brightly. Instead, it produced billowing smoke that soared to the sky, shrouding the entire camp in a hazy smog.

The figures moving the cargo seemed unbothered by the choking smoke, working in complete silence. This lent the entire camp an eerie silence.

A vile orc wearing a beast-skull helmet and a half-cuirass of bone hid in the bushes, spying for a while before silently retreating.

About half an hour later, a dense patter of footsteps, mixed with low roars and shouts, suddenly echoed from the woods.

A large wave of vile orcs burst from the trees, yelling as they charged toward the figures in the camp, brandishing bone spears and short axes.

A vile orc at the forefront used the thick smoke of the camp for cover, drew the short axe from its waist, and hurled it forward. In an instant, it sliced off the head of a figure standing with its back to him. The head rolled to its feet with a thud.

But to its shock, it saw that the head belonged to a vile orc, one of its own kind!

Before it could react, more vile orcs swarmed into the camp and began to slaughter indiscriminately. However, some noticed that something was wrong and froze in place, bewildered.

Why was the entire camp filled with their own kind?

A vile orc wearing an iron helmet over its bone armor, clearly the leader, kicked over one of the dazed figures and dragged it closer for inspection. It confirmed that the figure was indeed one of its own kind, but its face was rotted beyond recognition, and a thick stench of decay emanated from it.

The ones hauling cargo back and forth in this camp… were all dead!

A sharp whistle suddenly pierced the air from the woods on both sides of the camp. The leader whipped its head around toward the sound, but its body suddenly jolted. It slammed face-first onto the ground and moved no more.

Another vile orc beside it quickly turned the body over and saw that the iron facemask of its helmet had completely shattered. A finger-wide hole had appeared in the center of it, from which blood was gushing.

The vile orcs near the woods immediately drew their bone javelins. Just as one was about to raise its arm to throw at the rustling bushes, a spray of blood suddenly erupted from its side, splattering bits of internal organs all over the ground.

A sharp-eyed vile orc saw strange long rods poking out from the woods, followed by one of its kin after another suddenly screaming and collapsing. Their limbs were blown to pieces, or their bodies were left with gaping wounds, as if a large chunk of flesh had been scooped out by the claws of a wild beast.

Fear gripped its heart in an instant. It dropped its axe and let out a howl, turning to flee in the opposite direction. But after just a few steps, a sharp pain shot through its left leg, sending it tumbling to the ground, where it writhed and wailed in agony.

In the smoke-wreathed camp, not a single figure was left standing unscathed.

The vile orcs still twitching on the ground in their death throes saw a group of people emerge from the bushes. They were clad in clothing woven from leaves and grass and were fitting something onto the tips of those strange long rods.

These people gradually entered the camp. Raising the tips of their long rods, they moved through the clearing, methodically thrusting them into the chest of every fallen vile orc several times, leaving none unchecked.

…

“How did it go? Did the trap to lure the vile orcs succeed?” Harvey asked anxiously, looking at Pierce, who had rushed back to report on the battle.

“My lord, we’ve annihilated a fifty-orc vanguard squad. We suffered no casualties… well… two of the militiamen got nervous and accidentally stabbed themselves with their bayonets…”

Harvey let out a long sigh of relief and clapped Pierce on the shoulder, laughing loudly. “So now my militia can be considered true, blooded soldiers!”

Astaren chimed in with a laugh. “The vile orcs are too dim-witted. They actually couldn’t tell that the Living Corpses used as bait in the camp were their own kind.”

Pierce analyzed calmly, “It was mainly because the camp was filled with smoke, which interfered with their keen sense of smell and perception. We won’t be able to repeat this trick a second time.”

Harvey quickly reminded him, “Remember to drag all the dead vile orcs back. My reserves of Living Corpses are running low.”

Pierce bowed. “They are already on their way, my lord.”

He looked up again, a strange fervor in his eyes. “My lord, we dispatched only fifty militiamen armed with thirty Magical Energy Guns, and we managed to wipe out a vanguard squad without a single scratch. Even I didn’t anticipate such a result.”

As a precaution against heavy militia casualties, Pierce had positioned twenty Wolf Spider Beasts in ambush around the camp, but they hadn’t been needed at all.

“These magical weapons are simply too powerful. They couldn’t resist them at all. They didn’t even know what killed them…”

He murmured with excitement, “If you could equip the entire militia with Magical Energy Guns, my lord, I believe I could lead them to push directly toward the river valley and drive the orcs back to the other side of the river…”

Harvey reached out and straightened Pierce’s slightly crooked uniform collar, patiently explaining, “Don’t get overconfident. This was an ambush; a frontal assault won’t be this easy. From now on, you need to use your time wisely and make sure every militiaman has the chance to master their shooting skills and accuracy.”

“As for the Magical Energy Guns, the laboratory is already working overtime to produce them. I haven’t had a proper rest in days myself…”

Pierce felt a pang of shame, his face flushed red as he apologized profusely to Harvey.

Astaren, standing to the side, asked quietly, “And you, Pierce? What was your record today?”

Pierce puffed out his chest and gave his mentor a slight bow. “Five energy beams, five vile orcs. All headshots. I didn’t miss, Mr. Astaren.”

Chapter 56: Troop Recruitment and a Shooting Competition

A new breeding period had begun for the Energy-devouring beetles being raised in the underground laboratory.

Ever since Harvey started feeding them large quantities of low-grade charged magic stones at regular intervals, he had managed to precisely shorten their reproductive cycle to once every three months.

The price, of course, was a monthly consumption of magic stones costing up to five hundred gold pounds. However, the monthly revenue from the Magic Net teleportation array was just enough to cover this recurring expense, barely allowing them to break even.

Since establishing a good online partnership with “Frost Giant,” Harvey had also been able to purchase some lower-quality charged magic stones from him at a very low discount.

The Energy-devouring beetles weren’t picky about the quality of their magical “feed.”

This Forum member, who was always in intense online clashes with “Son of Flame,” was likely backed by a massive magic stone mine or a magical merchant guild.

Astaren walked over to the workbench and looked at the Magical Energy Gun that had just been taken off the assembly line. He sighed with a hint of nostalgia, “To think that in just three short months, we’ve managed to equip an entire militia unit with this weapon.”

Harvey reached out and pressed the stop button on the assembly line, putting all the busy work-type alchemical beasts on standby to recharge.

“This batch of thirty Magical Energy Guns can be issued to the second group of recruited militiamen in a while.”

A week ago, he had just issued a new conscription order, recruiting another three hundred-plus militiamen to bolster the ranks, expanding the territory’s total force to five hundred.

As the height of summer arrived, more and more refugees appeared in the Raven Ridge area of the Spine of the Continent Mountains. Many risked crossing the mountains to reach the human kingdoms of the southern continent, only to be ruthlessly driven away by the local noble lords.

With the new year’s crops not yet ready for harvest, no noble lord was willing to take in these destitute refugees, provide them with free food and lodging, and run the enormous risk of a summer epidemic outbreak.

Harvey seized this opportunity to accept a large number of these refugees who had been expelled and sent back to the northern frontier, successfully expanding the territory’s population to nearly three thousand people.

The lands of the Spine of the Continent Mountains and the barren lands were exceptionally fertile and abundant in all kinds of resources. Since the territory successfully issued its own paper currency, it had already achieved a relatively stable market cycle.

At the very least, it was now completely self-sufficient in food. Only a small amount of luxury goods like clothing, fabric, sugar, alcohol, and tobacco needed to be imported through their old partner, the Dragonstone Merchant Guild.

Harvey revived several economic projects he wouldn’t have dared to consider when he was working alone. He established a cement factory and an iron foundry, providing jobs for the newly arrived refugees while also laying the foundation for a military-industrial base.

Producing cement was now extremely simple for Harvey. The vast natural deposits of limestone, gypsum, and clay at the foot of the mountains provided ready-made materials. He had the work-type alchemical beasts construct blast furnaces and firing chambers, firing the materials uniformly at the same temperature used for smelting iron ore. The resulting clinker was then ground and mixed with gypsum powder to produce large quantities of finished cement.

Relying on this steady supply of cement, Harvey built enough new houses for his people. Compared to the previous stone-and-wood cottages, these new buildings were sturdier and warmer.

Of course, these houses weren’t given to the people for free. They still had to pay a monthly rent to their lord, which was deducted directly from their wages.

…

“Hmph, what right do those new soldiers have to touch Magical Energy Guns?” During the afternoon break, Wayne, for the first time ever, sought out Vaughn and the others to voice his dissatisfaction.

Although the two rarely interacted due to their past conflicts and discrimination, ever since the newly recruited soldiers had entered the barracks, the members of the first militia contingent had unconsciously begun to stick together.

Dav, despite looking down on Wayne, also felt disgruntled and chimed in, “Yeah, not even all of us have our own Magical Energy Gun yet. Giving them to those guys who can’t even aim is a waste.”

Wayne nodded and looked at the silent Vaughn. “Especially those few troublemakers. They act so arrogant during morning training. Hmph, so what if they run a little faster and got a few words of praise from Officer Pierce?”

“What do you think, Vaughn? Should we teach them a lesson during the emergency assembly tonight?”

Because of his outstanding training performance and his marksmanship with the Magical Energy Gun being the best in the unit, everyone had tacitly started to see Vaughn as the leader of their small group now that a new threat had emerged.

Vaughn thought for a moment before speaking slowly, “Starting a private conflict with them is not an option, unless you want to spend time in the brig next to the latrines.”

“The officer said that strength comes first. The only way to put them in their place without getting ourselves into trouble is to prove we’re better. That will also make them behave.”

The other squad leaders and their deputies gathered around nodded in agreement. Vaughn was indeed very level-headed, and his words were convincing.

“But the officer won’t let us take the initiative. We don’t even get to deal with the few scattered vile orcs we encounter on patrol these days. The alchemical beasts handle them on their own,” Wayne said, slapping his thigh, still feeling indignant.

Tommy, the clever one, suddenly burst in from outside the barracks, shouting excitedly.

“Brothers, our chance to teach those greenhorns a lesson is here!”

“What?”

“Stop wasting time, just spit it out!”

Tommy plopped down in front of the assembled squad leaders, crossed his legs, and leaned in to whisper, “Uncle Runi from the logistics department let it slip that in two days, the lord is holding a Magical Energy Gun shooting competition. Each squad can choose one person to enter, and the lord himself will present the winner with an award!”

“Whoa!” A collective gasp went through the group, and they huddled together again, whispering amongst themselves.

“We have to show them this time!”

…

Two days later, in the afternoon, at the town square in front of the lord’s castle.

Many of the townspeople had already learned from the notice board that the lord was holding some sort of shooting competition today. After finishing work, they came to the square early to grab a good spot in the front row and watch the excitement.

Although no one knew what a “shooting competition” was, there was virtually no entertainment in the territory, so any event was a welcome diversion.

Harvey sat on a temporarily erected high platform, flanked by Astaren and Rainer, who stood like two giant metal statues before a throne, making it difficult for anyone to look at them directly.

Pierce led the militia into the square in formation. The soldiers, all dressed in black cotton uniforms with sheathed bayonets at their waists and long iron spears on their backs, marched in unison to the center of the square and stood in a single line, separating the crowd.

Each soldier puffed out his chest and straightened his back, staring forward with a solemn expression. The onlooking crowd unconsciously grew quiet, the atmosphere turning grave.

“Contestants, step forward!”

Ten soldiers in black uniforms stepped out from the ranks, their heads held high. The silver pentagrams embroidered on the left breast of their uniforms indicated that all ten were either squad leaders or deputy squad leaders in the militia.

After all, no ordinary soldier had the skill or the nerve to compete against a group of squad leaders. If they lost and brought shame upon their entire squad, they would surely be given a hard time by their superiors.

Fifty meters away, a tall flagpole had been erected, from which hung a strange, brightly painted red sphere—the target for the competition.

Pierce returned to the platform and, using a recording magic stone, loudly announced the rules of the shooting competition.

In the preliminary round, each contestant had to fire ten consecutive shots at the flagpole target within a set time. Half the contestants would be eliminated based on the number of hits. In case of a tie, there would be an extra round.

The bright red sphere on the flagpole burst with a pop, spraying out a thick puff of red dust, drawing a series of gasps from the crowd watching from a distance.

Another hit!

Although no one knew how these soldiers were using those strange iron tubes in their hands to hit that sphere so accurately from such a distance, they figured it must be some kind of mysterious crossbow or hidden weapon. After all, the lord and the men beside him were powerful Spellcasters.

“Ten shots fired, seven hits. Firing complete. Next contestant, step forward!”

Wayne lowered his Magical Energy Gun and returned to the line of contestants, giving Vaughn a meaningful look.

Vaughn had finished shooting before him, achieving an excellent score of eight hits, currently placing him in first. There were still two new squad leaders left to shoot, but with the veterans occupying at least four of the top five spots, they had already put the newcomers in their place.

When the final round began, Officer Pierce suddenly announced that the difficulty would be increased.

They now had to shoot a moving target—a new sphere hanging from the flagpole, swinging wildly and erratically.

Even a veteran like Wayne found this challenging. He barely managed to hit the target four times before stepping back, drenched in sweat.

The next two veterans fared even worse. One missed completely, and the other managed only a single hit. They returned to their ranks with flushed faces amidst the jeers of the crowd.

The only squad leader from the newcomers who remained in the competition had a sudden burst of luck. He landed three consecutive hits, and after replacing his depleted gun, he hit it three more times, achieving a score of six hits and temporarily taking first place.

Faint cheers could be heard from among the new recruits, which made the faces of the veteran squad leaders turn darker than the bottom of a pot.

Vaughn was the last to go. Completely ignoring the whispers behind him, he calmly raised his Magical Energy Gun and began to aim.

Three shots in a row, three hits!

He replaced his gun and aimed again!

Another three shots in a row, all hits! A fierce cheer erupted from the crowd.

“Vaughn, go for it!” The half-orc didn’t turn around, but he could tell it was Wayne—the one who was always at odds with him—shouting his name.

A slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He calmly replaced his gun one more time and took aim again.

This time he missed three shots, but the last one was a solid hit.

His final score on the moving target was a remarkable seven out of ten. The cheers from the militia could no longer be contained. Several veteran squad leaders rushed out, lifted him onto their shoulders, and tossed him high into the air.

Amidst the chaos, Vaughn turned his head and saw that the onlookers were also giving him thumbs-ups.

Officer Pierce was smiling with satisfaction, giving him a slight nod of approval.

From his seat on the high platform, their lord stood up. Holding a glittering badge in his hand, he smiled and beckoned for him to come forward.

Chapter 57: The Spellcaster Stranded in the Northern Lands

Harvey was hunched over the metal laboratory bench, intently assembling an experimental apparatus.

Vaughn, the newly promoted squad leader of the Sharpshooter Squad, suddenly came stumbling down the stairs, startling Astaren.

The two bear-shaped alchemical beasts guarding the laboratory entrance had their eyes light up as they simultaneously pounced, pinning him to the ground.

“My lord! Officer Pierce is injured! We carried him back!”

Harvey shot his head up and saw the half-orc squad leader covered in small cuts. While they didn’t look fatal, the bloody sight was horrifying.

“Where is he now? Quick! Astaren, go upstairs and get the healing potions! And the blood bags—bring them all down!”

Harvey pulled the pinned half-orc to his feet and hurried upstairs.

Pierce had been carried in on a simple stretcher and laid on the floor of the main hall. The few squad leaders who had been on patrol with him today were also covered in wounds, but no one cried out in pain. They all waited anxiously at the side.

Harvey noticed that Pierce had no visible wounds, yet his face was ashen, and his eyes were shut tight. He seemed to have passed out.

“Looks like internal injuries. I don’t know if the healing potion will work.”

Another commotion erupted outside the door, and a second stretcher was carried in. Harvey saw it was a stranger.

“Who’s this? A refugee you rescued from the barren lands?” The moment the question left his lips, Harvey realized something was wrong. Although the man was also unconscious, neither his clothes nor his appearance resembled the destitute refugees of the barren lands.

He wore a long robe that, despite being dirty and tattered, still hinted at its quality material and fabric. Faintly visible on the torn hem were patterns stitched with gold thread.

“A human noble captured and brought to the North? How is that possible?” Harvey murmured, though he wasn’t entirely convinced.

Astaren had already brought a healing potion. He pried open Pierce’s clenched jaw and poured it down his throat. Then, he skillfully took a long, thin tube, used a probe on it to puncture the blood bag, and precisely inserted the other end into a vein in Pierce’s arm.

Transfusing blood directly like this would help him recover much faster than if he’d just ingested it.

Sure enough, after a short while, Pierce slowly regained consciousness, groaning in pain with his eyes half-closed.

Harvey leaned close to Pierce’s ear and asked in a low voice, “What happened? Who attacked you?”

Pierce struggled to open his eyes. It took him a long moment to reply. “No one attacked me, my lord. I saw this Spellcaster fighting a vile orc priest. I tried to get closer to observe, but I was unfortunately caught in the blast from the priest’s self-destruction spell.”

So he was knocked out by the shockwave. Harvey breathed a sigh of relief, thinking to himself that this guy was unbelievably reckless, daring to get so close to a battle between Spellcasters.

He glanced around the hall at the other militia members who had also been hit by the spell, all covered in small cuts, and was rendered somewhat speechless.

An arrogant officer certainly leads to a troop of arrogant soldiers.

“A vile orc Spellcaster showed up nearby? Can you give me a rough idea of that priest’s abilities?”

Pierce thought for a moment before slowly replying, “It seemed to rely entirely on a strange wooden staff in its hand. It cast some kind of poison mist and some poison liquid that made plants wither instantly.”

Sounds like a low-level caster with a magic artifact for poison attacks.

“And what about this human Spellcaster? What were his combat spells?”

“Oh, him… he seemed to be able to control the nearby trees and thorns. He bound the priest so tightly that it was forced to self-destruct in an attempt to take him down with it…”

A nature-type Spellcaster! Harvey’s eyes narrowed. Something felt off.

Hearing this, Astaren, who was standing nearby, immediately walked over to the man, squatted down, and pushed aside his thick, messy hair.

A pointed ear was instantly revealed. The ear on the other side, however, was damaged, as if half of it had been cut off.

Astaren scoffed, his tone tinged with self-deprecation. “A half-elf. No wonder…”

The Elves were the most obstinate of the ancient races. Active on the southern continent since the Age of Dragons, they were born with a natural talent for nature-type spells.

But they strictly adhered to the principle of not intermarrying with other races. Even marriage between different branches of the elven race was absolutely forbidden.

However, there were always some long-lived individuals, blinded by love, who would inevitably fall for and unite with short-lived humans, giving birth to half-human, half-elf offspring.

Their fate, of course, was just as tragic as that of half-blood vampires like Astaren. The lighter sentences were exile and banishment; the heavier ones, imprisonment and execution.

But the Elves were even more extreme. They had a strict agreement with the human kingdoms and the Federation that no one was to shelter or help these descendants, who were branded with the crime of “polluting the bloodline.” To do so was to openly oppose the entire elven race.

It seemed this unlucky half-elf had no place left for him on the southern continent, so he came to the Northern Barren Lands to make a living. The only question was where he had gotten that magnificent mage robe.

Harvey had the wounded soldiers carry their officer back to the barracks to rest, then nodded at Astaren.

Astaren understood immediately. He activated the communication device mounted on his cybernetics and began calling for Rainer, who was out on a job.

…

Egnor slowly awoke from his stupor. The moment he opened his eyes, he found two dark metal rods pressed against his temples, one on each side.

“Wh… Where is this? What are you doing?” He didn’t feel the two metal rods posed any threat, so he instinctively writhed, trying to struggle to his feet.

But he found himself bound tightly to a long metal table, unable to move.

Only then did he see two tall, terrifying, and bizarre humanoid metal skeletons standing on either side of him. In their eye sockets, two strange flames, one red and one blue, flickered.

“Please remain still, sir. If I see your lips even hint at forming the words of a spell, I’m afraid your head will instantly explode—in a way that not even a ninth-circle healing spell could piece back together.”

The metal skeleton could actually speak! Could it be that the Alchemical Exploration Society’s Life Alchemy experiments had succeeded?

Egnor understood the threat and immediately pressed his lips tightly together, his eyes darting around.

Only then did Harvey step forward, reassured. “What is your name, Mr. Half-elf?”

Harvey wasn’t surprised at all to see the other man’s face suddenly turn pale.

“Egnor. Egnor Medros. I’m a free Spellcaster from Araye.”

Harvey raised a curious eyebrow and pressed, “You’re from Araye? Heh. Since when does the Federation allow half-elves within its borders?”

Egnor’s face went from pale to flushed, as if he felt verbally insulted, but the metal rods pressed lightly against his head, and he didn’t dare refuse to answer.

“I used a disguise spell, and I never associated with the Federation’s high-level casters. I… I was just secretly studying magic in Araye…”

“How did you end up in the Northern Barren Lands? Was your identity in Araye exposed?” Harvey keenly pointed out the problem with his statement.

As expected, the man flinched and stammered, “That’s right. The master who taught me magic was going to hand me over to the Federation. They would have surely turned me over to the Elves. I didn’t want to go back to that place, to be imprisoned in a sunless dungeon.”

Harvey chuckled. “But there aren’t any human Spellcaster organizations in the North. Coming to the vile orcs’ territory… isn’t that just asking for death?”

The half-elf tried to defend his seemingly foolish actions. “I read in an ancient history book that before the Federation was founded, a great family of wizards migrated to the North and established a wizard kingdom called the City of Eternal Night.”

“I… I wanted to find that legendary wizard kingdom. Maybe there, they would accept me and let me learn more about magic…”

Harvey was taken aback. He instinctively met the eyes of Astaren, who had looked at him at the same moment. He then saw Astaren give a slight shake of his head and immediately understood.

“Mr. Egnor, I have to say you’re being fanciful. There haven’t been any Wizard Kingdoms in the Northern Barren Lands for a long time. They were destroyed in the Demon invasion.”

Chapter 58: A Production Accident

“Hearing you say that, your master was truly inhuman!” Rainer looked at the half-elf Egnor with sympathy, sighing over his tragic past.

Egnor had respected and loved his master like a father. He had even risked exposing his own identity by using his innate elven healing magic to save his master’s son, who was on the verge of death after a serious fall from a horse. Yet, after discovering this, his master had reported him to the Federation.

If it weren’t for a transformation-type magic artifact passed down from his father’s family, which allowed him to disguise his identity and escape Araye early, he would have likely been arrested and thrown into a prison in the Elven City of Laurien long ago.

Egnor sighed, not wanting to dwell on a past that only brought him down.

“I’ve enchanted all of these seeds. After this late summer’s crops are harvested, you can set aside a plot of land to test them out.”

Although Harvey had publically stated that so long as Egnor always held good intentions, he was willing to shelter the displaced half-elf Spellcaster and keep his identity a secret.

But Egnor had been here for nearly half a month now. Aside from wandering around the territory daily, no one had given him any tasks. He spent his days eating exquisite food brought through the teleportation array and sleeping on a soft, comfortable bed in a private room, which filled him with a sense of shame, as if he were just freeloading.

He wasn’t allowed into the underground laboratory. When he tried to walk over to the military camp to see the soldiers who carried strange iron rods all day, he was politely asked not to approach.

Egnor was well aware that he had not yet earned the full trust and acceptance of the people here.

Just when he could no longer contain his frustration and was about to find Lord Harvey to proactively seek a job for himself, Rainer had come looking for him.

He had handed Egnor a batch of various crop seeds, asking if he could enchant them to ward off pests and diseases and increase their yield.

Egnor was no stranger to growth-type nature magic. His mother had been an agricultural official in their clan, specifically responsible for cultivating the Golden Trees. With an amplifying magic artifact to assist his spellcasting, he could even catalyze a seed into a sapling of a certain age within a few minutes.

“This batch of seeds can resist most natural pests and diseases, but not low temperatures. After all, I can’t achieve that level of modification. As for the yield, I can’t fully guarantee it. You’ll have to wait until harvest to see the results.”

Rainer nodded in satisfaction and called over two members of the Agriculture Department to carry away the sacks of seeds.

“Wait!” Egnor quickly stopped Rainer, asking a bit sheepishly, “Can I go to the farm with you? I have nothing else to do, and maybe I can help…”

Rainer paused, as if hesitant.

Egnor quickly added, “I won’t disturb anyone’s work, don’t worry. Just let me see the crops in the fields. I am a nature Spellcaster, after all.”

“Hmm… alright, follow me.”

Egnor adjusted his long hair, making sure to hide his pointed ears, and followed Rainer at a brisk pace toward the farm at the foot of the mountain.

…

When he arrived at the farm, Egnor discovered that the scene he had imagined—of farmers toiling under the scorching sun, covered in dirt—was nowhere to be found.

An endless field of golden crops was neatly divided into dozens of plots. A one-meter-wide irrigation channel brought clear water down from the mountain. After passing through several small mills, it split into several tributaries that flowed into ditches alongside the farmland.

The gentle slope near the mountain’s base had been terraced and planted with lush green vegetables. Several short, humanoid alchemical beasts with extremely long arms moved through the vegetable patches, skillfully picking fresh produce.

The barley was nearing harvest. A few farmers in straw hats walked along the ridges, inspecting the ripeness of the wheat ears and discussing the best time to reap.

Seeing Rainer and the others approach, they hurried over and bowed in greeting.

“Such a vast field, and only a few farmers. Can they really manage it all?” Egnor found it incredible.

Rainer pointed to the nearby woods and laughed. “The alchemical beasts do all the heavy labor. It’s too hot on a summer afternoon, so most of the farm workers are in the woods picking melons and fruits right now.”

Egnor stood on his tiptoes and looked toward the woods, where he could indeed see figures moving about, punctuated by occasional bursts of hearty laughter.

A bountiful harvest truly brought people joy.

What he didn’t expect, however, was that this joy, which had just begun to infect him, would turn to horror in a matter of moments.

…

Maisui felt his entire body trembling. Cold sweat dripped from his forehead into his eyes, but he didn’t dare to close them.

The screams of his companion, Wogua, whom he carried on his back, had grown hoarse. He quickened his pace again, wishing he could sprout eight legs like the alchemical beasts that patrolled the woods all day.

He felt he deserved to die. Lord Rainer had warned them repeatedly, so why had he still been so careless?

At first, he had been smug about being assigned to operate an alchemical beast.

Ever since that big, metallic-sheened fellow had been installed in the mill, their work had become much easier.

They no longer had to repeatedly tread on the waterwheel to lift water up to the terraced fields on the slope, nor did they have to push the heavy stone mill to grind wheat flour.

This iron tower of an alchemical beast only needed a crystal gem inserted into it, and it would rapidly drive the waterwheel and the millstone with belts, allowing them to work nonstop.

Lord Rainer had demonstrated it to them several times: once it had worked continuously for over two hours, the crystal gem had to be removed and replaced with a bone-chilling ice gem. This would cool the big fellow down and prevent it from overheating from excessive labor.

Maisui had originally committed these words to heart.

But today, he had failed his duty!

As harvest season approached, everyone’s daily workload was light, and their attitudes had grown lax.

After inserting the first crystal gem, Maisui had snuck out of the mill and lain down on a pile of grain, dreaming about his future life.

Wogua, who had just been assigned to him, heard the heavy panting of the big fellow in the mill. He didn’t wake Maisui and went to check on it himself. But just as he was about to remove the crystal gem, the beast’s dark, iron mouth gaped open, and a thick jet of high-temperature white steam shot out with a shriek, spraying directly at Wogua.

Maisui was jolted awake by a heart-wrenching scream. He scrambled into the mill to find it filled with thick smoke. Wogua was on his back, clutching half his face and rolling around on the floor.

He lunged forward and pried Wogua’s hands away. A wave of bone-chilling horror washed over him. The skin of half of Wogua’s face was stuck to his own palm. As he pulled, half a layer of ruined skin was instantly ripped off.

His shoulder, chest, and right arm were also a bloody mess, his clothes stuck to the raw flesh, with blood slowly seeping through.

Others nearby who had heard the commotion rushed over. Everyone realized that Wogua was probably beyond saving.

“Fire… the big fella… it’s on fire, put it out…” Wogua, enduring the extreme pain, still gripped Maisui’s hand tightly, muttering over and over.

The mill was full of grain, and the granary was right next to it. A fire was absolutely out of the question!

Maisui’s eyes instantly turned red. He heaved Wogua onto his back and yelled for the others to cool down the machine and extinguish the fire source in the mill.

He himself then bolted outside with Wogua on his back.

He ran straight into Rainer, who had also received the news and was rushing over.

“My lord! Sob… It’s all my fault… sob, sob, please save Wogua, he’s only twenty…”

When Rainer saw the ghastly state of the injured man on his back, the soul fire in his eyes condensed with fury. “A steam burn? What happened? Why didn’t you operate the alchemical beast according to regulations?”

When he was debugging this type of alchemical beast before, he had often caused it to overheat by misjudging the timing. But for Rainer, it was nothing more than a free steam sauna.

For an ordinary person, however, it was fatal.

“I beg you, please ask the lord to grant us a magic potion to save Wogua!” Maisui lowered the now-quieting Wogua from his back and kowtowed repeatedly on the ground.

“It’s too late to go back to the main keep for a potion. Let me try.” Egnor stepped forward, knelt down, and placed his hands on Wogua’s mangled face, but he forcefully turned his own head away to stare at the ground.

“What kind of spellcasting motion is that?” Rainer asked, puzzled.

A dark green mist gradually condensed in Egnor’s palms. The mist, as if alive, flexibly detached from his hands and gently covered Wogua’s ruined face.

Instantly, the wound began to change. The scalded skin on his face peeled away, and new skin grew at a speed visible to the naked eye.

The large blisters on his neck immediately deflated and were gradually covered by new granulation tissue, eventually disappearing completely.

Wogua stopped trembling in pain, and his breathing grew steady as he seemed to sink into a deep sleep.

In just a few short minutes, Egnor was drenched in sweat and slumped to the ground. He looked at Rainer with a pleading gaze.

“I… I’m out of magical energy. Could you give me a Charged magic stone?”

Rainer immediately took one from the pouch at his waist and handed it to him, then repeated his question.

“Your healing magic, does it have to be paired with turning your neck? It’s incredible…”

Egnor’s face flushed red. He glanced at the crowd gathered around them and explained reluctantly.

“No, it’s just… I’m just squeamish about blood.”

Chapter 59: Grouping Up Online

Harvey suddenly received several messages from the Forum members on the “Magic Brain.”

But they weren’t sent to his smurf account, “Kel’Thuzad,” but directly to “Administrator Turing.”

“Strange, why would they suddenly want to contact the administrator?” Harvey opened the messages, completely bewildered.

[The Scorching Sovereign: Esteemed Mr. Turing, I recently intercepted the precise coordinates of an interdimensional rift while roaming the Magic Net. I wish to share this at this week’s gathering and invite other members to explore the rift together.]

Harvey was taken aback. Why had this Legendary Caster, usually a man of few words, suddenly decided to report his plans in advance?

If you want to form a party to explore, just go! What does that have to do with “Administrator Turing”?

But when he opened the next message, Harvey instantly understood why they were going through these formalities.

[Hand of Elements: Esteemed Mr. Administrator, Mr. Scorching Sovereign, Mr. Ghost Captain, and I are preparing to collaborate on an expedition into a Magic Net rift. Before we proceed, we wish to request your protection. May I ask what price I must pay in exchange?]

The Ghost Captain sent a message with the same meaning, only his words were even more humble and earnest.

The three of you—one Legendary Caster and two high-level casters—are going to explore an interdimensional rift in the Magic Net. Is there any need to be this timid? Asking for protection in advance, no less.

He thought back to when he first started researching the Magic Net Forum; he’d commendably chosen to venture deep into the Magic Net all by himself.

Of course, the main reason was that he couldn’t find any high-level veterans to help him.

Harvey gave a wry, helpless smile. In reality, he was just a novice caster, yet now he was being put on a pedestal by three veterans, and it was getting rather hard to get down.

Forget it. He’d just have to bite the bullet and keep up the act. After all, he was short on cash right now, and as they say, “men die for wealth, just as birds die for food.”

Harvey still had a powerful ace up his sleeve.

It was the energy beam attack, capable of traversing spatial planes and being used directly within the Magic Net—the pure, compressed magical energy from the beetle ore!

He thought it over carefully before tapping the keys to send a unified reply to all three.

[Administrator Turing: You cannot offer a price that would interest me. However, I am willing to abide by the principle of equivalent exchange. I will watch over your actions. A single intervention will cost fifty thousand gold pounds. If nothing happens, the price is halved.]

Not even half a minute after the message was sent, Harvey received a reply from all three in unison.

[We accept! Thank you for your generous help, Mr. Administrator!]

…

The Friday night Forum gathering arrived as scheduled.

Harvey, however, had little interest in observing the members’ usual discussions. He had to prepare for the Magic Net exploration that would take place after the gathering ended.

He had Rainer temporarily modify the “Magic Brain” mainframe and the soul transfer device, connecting himself to both the “Magic Brain” and the “Unit Zero” server. This would allow him to call upon the pre-stored beetle ore energy at any time after his mental energy entered the Magic Net.

“I guess this is the magic equivalent of a brain-computer interface…” Harvey, steeling himself for the task ahead, muttered to himself self-deprecatingly.

“Rainer, once I enter the Magic Net, if you or Astaren observe any abnormal energy fluctuations, I need you to disconnect me from the Magic Brain immediately, understand?”

This was the first time Rainer had seen Lord Harvey put on the soul transfer device’s helmet himself, let alone risk connecting the device to the “Magic Brain” server. He couldn’t help but wring his hands nervously.

Astaren was much calmer, but he stood by the energy cut-off switch for “Unit Zero” the entire time, not moving an inch.

“I’m going to enter the Magic Net ahead of time as well.” Harvey gave a slight nod to his two competent assistants, raised his hand to attach the connector, and closed his eyes to begin the meditative induction.

A familiar wave of dizziness washed over him. When Harvey opened his eyes again, he was already within the Plane of the Magic Net.

He briefly observed his own unique positioning sigil floating in the space and was surprised to find it was completely different from before.

Harvey’s sigil had originally been a silvery-white hexagram, a stellar symbol representing the essence of death energy.

Later, after studying and analyzing the three-circle magic provided by The Scorching Sovereign, a perfect sphere representing the instant-cast spell circle had appeared in the center of the hexagram.

But now, his sigil was no longer its familiar self. It had transformed from a flat plane into a three-dimensional object—a polyhedron, a strange little star with numerous sharp, protruding edges.

The edges on this star were constantly shifting, sometimes retracting, sometimes extending, as if the sigil itself had taken on a life of its own.

“How did this happen? I didn’t sense anything abnormal with my sigil during my daily meditations.”

Could it be because he had connected to the “Unit Zero” energy-gathering array and absorbed the beetle ore’s energy?

Harvey had no time to ponder the reason for this change. He had to lock onto the three members’ positioning sigils through the Forum before the gathering ended, or he would lose track of them.

Knowing that The Scorching Sovereign had initiated this expedition, Harvey first locked onto the Legendary Caster’s coordinates. He enveloped his own unrecognizable sigil with his mental energy and shot toward the location.

But when he saw The Scorching Sovereign’s positioning sigil, Harvey was so shocked he almost disconnected from the Magic Net immediately.

“How can it be him?”

Harvey stopped far away from the sigil, not daring to move a single step closer.

It was the strange, triune sigil he had encountered during his first exploration of the Magic Net!

It was the personal sigil of the Legendary Caster himself—Mr. Scorching Sovereign!

Back then, he had even seemed to be trying to invade Harvey’s own sigil, to directly corrode his real-world coordinates…

High-level casters were truly not to be trifled with. Of course, it was also his own recklessness that had caused him to be mistaken for a hostile entity.

Harvey immediately decided not to reveal himself during this expedition. He would just lock onto their coordinates and follow from a distance. In any case, even if he were discovered, The Scorching Sovereign wouldn’t recognize his sigil in its current form.

Sure enough, not long after the gathering ended, Harvey, who had carefully hidden his sigil in the distance, sensed two exceptionally powerful streams of mental energy approaching side-by-side.

One was a transparent, crystal-like, teardrop-shaped sigil, inscribed with a matrix of spell circles resembling wave symbols. This had to be the Ghost Captain, an elemental caster who specialized in water magic.

The other, a diamond-shaped, deep purple sigil, must belong to Mr. Hand of Elements. His sigil was also inscribed with several spell circles that flickered with a fluctuating light.

“Gentlemen, the longer we remain in the Magic Net, the greater the danger. Let’s begin at once!” The Scorching Sovereign communicated with the two newly arrived members via mental energy.

“But… Mr. Turing doesn’t seem to have appeared yet,” the Ghost Captain said, hesitating.

“I fear that even if Mr. Turing were here, he would not allow us to perceive him easily,” The Scorching Sovereign mused. “I suspect he may not even exist here in the form of a sigil.”

The Hand of Elements asked in astonishment, “Are you saying… he might exist in the Magic Net in his physical form?”

The Scorching Sovereign fell silent for a moment before sighing grimly. “Surely you don’t believe that the mysterious entity who single-handedly created the Magic Net Forum is a human spellcaster like us, do you?”

Chapter 60: Extradimensional Monster

The three Spellcasters didn’t have much time for small talk. After The Scorching Sovereign briefly described his observations of the spatial fissure behind them, their three sigils, guided by mental energy, immediately approached the fissure, preparing to enter.

“I’ve been observing the entrance to this fissure for several months. The spatial turbulence and energy fluctuations inside are very weak. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have invited you to explore it with me.”

In the Plane of the Magic Net, any impulsive or reckless action could lead to unpredictable and dangerous consequences—ones that even high-level casters would not dare to face lightly.

But the rewards for exploring a spatial fissure were also extremely generous.

Spatial fissures that were fixed within the Magic Net often possessed specific coordinates that projected directly into the real world. These real-world coordinates frequently corresponded to the hidden treasures of ancient wizards or the lairs of magical creatures that could physically travel between the two realms.

As long as explorers completed the coordinate analysis, they could obtain a large amount of exceptionally precious magical materials and spoils from the real-world plane.

Furthermore, the fissure itself contained a wealth of magical information for explorers to decipher, making it a place where risk was directly proportional to reward.

After the three high-level casters entered the fissure, Harvey confirmed that he hadn’t lost his perception of their location before slowly approaching its vicinity.

But he still waited cautiously for a while, making sure no unexpected situations arose before following them into the fissure.

The space inside the fissure was not quite what Harvey had expected.

A few energy conduits from the Magic Net’s space were still present, distributed like tentacles within the fissure. He guessed it was these energy tentacles that allowed the fissure to connect spatially with the Magic Net.

Harvey followed the tracking signals of the three Forum members, traversing the areas they had already explored. He increasingly felt that this spatial fissure was as silent as a tomb.

Everything around seemed to be in a state of eternal stillness, as if the pause button had been pressed. Apart from the few tentacle-like Magic Net conduits stretching across the sky, everything in the fissure was laid out in a monochrome palette of black and white.

Harvey flew unhurriedly at a low altitude over the cracked, grayish-white ground. He sensed the three sigil locators had stopped in front of a massive, mountain-like shadow in the distance.

…

“This mountain is the only area in the entire spatial fissure where we can detect energy fluctuations and spatial turbulence.”

“Roughly every half-hour, this turbulence suddenly appears, even affecting the Plane of the Magic Net outside the fissure.”

“I suspect this place was once the ruin of a battlefield between ancient wizards and a powerful non-human creature. It should have a corresponding real-world coordinate.”

The Scorching Sovereign cautiously offered his judgment and speculation.

Hand of Elements asked tentatively, “So we have to complete the coordinate analysis within half an hour and then leave decisively.”

“Correct. We can’t be too greedy. Obtaining the real-world coordinates of a ruin like this is already a hefty reward.” The Ghost Captain seemed naturally cautious, firmly suppressing the greed deep in his heart.

“Then let’s not delay. Let’s start analyzing the coordinates with our mental energy immediately!”

From a distance, Harvey saw the three high-level casters’ sigils spread out, surrounding the pale mountain from different angles. A powerful wave of mental energy surged from their sigils, coalescing into a net-like form that spread over the mountain.

“So this is how high-level casters analyze Magic Net coordinates…” Harvey narrowed his eyes, observing carefully, trying to glean some useful magical knowledge from it.

He remembered that when The Scorching Sovereign had tried to corrode his mental energy, he had used the same method, condensing his mental energy into countless tentacles and weaving them into an invisible net that descended upon him.

The moment the net of mental energy, woven by the three of them, touched the mountain, something strange happened.

A huge gasp suddenly came from within the mountain, carrying a powerful wave of mental energy that spread outward.

The three Spellcasters’ sigils almost simultaneously lit up with a crystalline shield, resisting the sudden wave of mental energy.

The shield covering the Ghost Captain’s teardrop-shaped sigil seemed to be on the verge of collapse. The Scorching Sovereign immediately sent out two beams of energy, linking the three of them together and synchronizing their shields for defense.

“A Legendary Caster indeed. His perception and reaction speed far exceed those of an ordinary Mage…” Harvey couldn’t help but admire him silently.

The strange mental energy wave immediately retracted, then spread out again after a few moments. It repeated this several times without stopping.

“This… this mountain’s mental energy fluctuation is regular, as if it’s breathing. Could it be… alive?”

If it kept breathing like this, the three high-level casters definitely wouldn’t be able to hold on. After all, mental energy was different from magical energy; it couldn’t be replenished on the spot with a Charged magic stone and could only be recovered bit by bit through meditation.

Fortunately, under the Legendary Caster’s lead, they were just about managing to withstand the tide-like waves of mental energy.

A crystalline blue cyclone slowly emerged from The Scorching Sovereign’s sigil. This cyclone continuously rose into the sky, gradually expanding until it loomed overhead like a tornado.

As the cyclone spun at high speed, the waves of mental energy that had been relentlessly battering their shields were strangely drawn upward into the sky and completely absorbed by the cyclone.

Harvey looked up at the cyclone hovering high in the sky with some envy. He recognized it as the unique and powerful projection of a magic artifact, something only a Legendary Caster could do. It could bring a high-level artifact from the real world into the Magic Net’s space to aid the Spellcaster.

The Scorching Sovereign must have explored extradimensional fissures in the Magic Net more than once. His knowledge and experience, combined with such a powerful artifact projection, were likely the source of his confidence in repeatedly delving into various fissures.

The strange gasping sound from the mountain instantly stopped, and the fluctuations with their specific frequency also vanished.

The three high-level casters breathed a sigh of relief. After a brief exchange, they decided to continue with the coordinate analysis while maintaining their shields.

Seeing this, Harvey felt their earlier caution seemed a bit excessive. It looked like this operation wouldn’t require his intervention—a “master of disguise” who was actually a rookie—and they would reap huge rewards from the exploration on their own.

The invisible net woven from mental energy continued to spread over the mountain until it was completely enveloped, like a deep-sea leviathan caught in a fishing net.

The entire pale and desolate space began to tremble slightly. Harvey suddenly sensed an ominous premonition from his sigil, as if some strange existence had stirred the projection of the main star representing fate within it.

Not good!

Harvey immediately looked toward the three high-level casters’ position and saw the mountain suddenly split open with countless fine, dark-red cracks. Tiny, blackish-red fleshy buds and short tendrils shot out from the cracks, making the entire mountain look as if it were instantly covered in blackish-red vegetation.

The mountain emitted a strange, vibrating sound that was inaudible to most people. The blackish-red buds and tendrils trembled in sync at a bizarre frequency, as if swaying in the wind.

Harvey felt sick just looking at it. If his physical body were here right now, he would probably be covered in goosebumps.

He felt a tremor deep in his mental energy and soul. His thoughts and cognition seemed to be tightly shackled, and even the light of his sigil dimmed.

The three high-level casters, being closer to the mountain, were in a worse state. The mental shields of the lower-ranked Ghost Captain and Hand of Elements shattered instantly. Their sigils began to tremble violently, and the light flowing within flickered unstably, like a candle in the wind.

The Scorching Sovereign, however, immediately directed his sigil to fly into the expanding cyclone in the sky, using the artifact’s projection to resist the vibration.

Harvey now had only one thought in his mind.

His teammates were about to be wiped out. Should he just bail and save himself…?

Chapter 61: One Godly Shot

Spellcasters cannot cast spells in the Magic Net using only the projection of their mental energy. This is the main reason why exploring the Magic Net is so dangerous.

But Harvey believed that a powerful Mage like The Scorching Sovereign wouldn’t be unprepared for such an extreme threat.

He still had a powerful energy beam attack up his sleeve, but the question was no longer whether he should help them. Instead, he needed to save it to pave a path for his own escape.

The Scorching Sovereign, concealed within the cyclone, chose neither passive defense nor to escape alone.

He drove the expanding cyclone that enveloped his sigil, ramming it straight into the massive peak riddled with deep red fissures.

Are all you Legendary Casters this reckless?

Harvey was momentarily stunned.

The collision was silent, yet the black-red fleshy sprouts and short tendrils all ceased their swaying in unison, as if frozen in time.

The other two high-level casters, who had been struggling to hold on, reacted immediately and played their trump cards.

From the Ghost Captain’s sigil, the ethereal image of a small, exquisite model sailboat floated out. As if sailing on air, it bobbed unsteadily as it headed toward the mountain peak.

The Hand of Elements, on the other hand, released a deep purple orb of light from his sigil. The moment the orb left the sigil, it exploded into specks of debris that enveloped his and the Ghost Captain’s sigils, forming a dense, faintly glowing cloud of mist.

It seemed the two of them had a plan: one would support The Scorching Sovereign’s attack, while the other would be responsible for defense.

However, after the small sailboat crashed into the mountain peak, it triggered an even more terrifying transformation.

The dense fissures covering the entire mountain suddenly snapped open to their limits, like countless eyes. Several of the larger fissures merged to form a gigantic, grotesque, crimson eyeball. Its dark pupil darted up and down, as if trying to focus its gaze on the Spellcasters before it.

Harvey once again sensed a disturbance from the main star’s projection within his sigil. A sense of crisis, even more intense than before, washed over him in an instant.

He couldn’t wait any longer!

He immediately used his mental energy to command “Unit Zero”—the device connected to him in the real world—and frantically drew upon the compressed energy stored within it.

He continued until his mental energy swelled to the point where even his soul felt a slight, stinging pain.

The stored energy must be at its limit.

Without further hesitation, Harvey aimed his sigil at the enormous crimson eyeball and unleashed the energy beam.

A colossal beam of pure white energy shot out from his sigil, hurtling toward the eyeball at a speed nearly invisible to the naked eye.

Along its path, space itself seemed to slightly warp.

Before anyone could react, it slammed viciously into the terrifying, massive eyeball.

The violent impact and massive explosion Harvey had imagined never happened. The spatial fissure fell into a deathly stillness; even The Scorching Sovereign’s cyclone magic artifact stopped spinning.

The eyeball blinked once, and then, in an instant, it melted away like winter snow meeting a blazing fire.

The entire mountain peak was annihilated along with it, as if gently erased from a scroll with an eraser.

Only a vast, pale, and cracked land remained.

The moment the eyeball vanished, a flood of indescribable, profound, and abstruse knowledge surged into Harvey’s mind. He had no time to process or digest it; he only felt as if his head was about to burst, making him want to scream in agony.

In his pain and confusion, he felt his mental energy being pulled by an immense force.

The next second, he awoke on the recliner in the underground laboratory, having been pulled out of the Magic Net’s space.

“My lord, are you all right? The energy-gathering array’s reserves were suddenly drained completely. Mr. Astaren is performing an emergency recharge…” Rainer came over to help Harvey up, his tone filled with concern.

Harvey shook his head, feeling a deep exhaustion emanating from the very depths of his soul. It seemed to be the result of overexerting his mental energy.

Despite his headache, he sat back down in front of the Magic Brain, entered the Forum, and typed a single message to all three members.

[Administrator Turing: Do not attempt to enter that spatial fissure again. I might not be there to help you in time next time…]

After mustering his last ounce of willpower to finish posturing, Harvey collapsed next to the Magic Brain and was helped back to the recliner by Rainer to rest.

This ordeal was worth it, he thought. At least the payment came through, my image on the Forum has become even more mysterious and powerful, and I have unexpectedly gained a trove of knowledge about the spatial fissure.

Harvey could clearly sense that deep within his consciousness, all that complex and abstruse knowledge had condensed into a small fruit, waiting for him to absorb and digest it…

…

Meanwhile, the three Forum members who had been lucky enough to escape the Magic Net’s spatial fissure were also seated before their Magic Brains.

Looking at the message sent by Administrator Turing not long ago, each of them found the answer they were looking for.

[The Scorching Sovereign: As expected, it was Mr. Turing. Heh, I didn’t sense his presence at all. Perhaps his true self wasn’t in the fissure; he was merely casting his gaze upon us from afar…]

[Ghost Captain: I didn’t expect Mr. Turing to actually help us. It’s a good thing we prayed for his attention before the mission. Otherwise, among us, I fear only Mr. Scorching Sovereign might have survived.]

[Ghost Captain: However, for such a powerful being, the price for helping us was merely a request for money, which is of the least value. This has left me very perplexed.]

[Hand of Elements: It’s like an adult playing an exchange game with a child… Alas.]

[The Scorching Sovereign: Mr. Turing has repeatedly mentioned the principle of equivalent exchange. Perhaps this is a universal rule that beings like Him must follow. But to us, He has already shown immense goodwill.]

[Ghost Captain: Praise be to Mr. Turing!]

[Hand of Elements: Do you two recall the mysterious energy beam that appeared in the Magic Net’s space not long ago? Could it also be related to Mr. Turing?]

[The Scorching Sovereign: It’s best not to investigate privately. Perhaps if you ask Him publicly at the exchange meeting, you will get an answer.]

The two high-level casters keenly noticed that The Scorching Sovereign had subtly changed how he addressed Administrator Turing, but they tacitly accepted it.

A being who could so easily destroy the other-dimensional eldritch creature with a single energy beam could no longer be regarded as a high-level caster like themselves.

They had a faint feeling that a being like Mr. Turing had likely already surpassed the rank of Legendary Caster, residing at a level of existence that all Spellcasters ultimately yearned for—a demigod.

[The Scorching Sovereign: Alright, let’s all rest and recover for now. Tomorrow, as previously agreed, we will discuss the gains and results of this exploration. I look forward to sharing the knowledge we’ve acquired with you both…]

Chapter 62: Ancient Knowledge

Harvey sat in his study, flipping through some notes he had taken during his time at the academy.

“Beginning with mid-level casters, every improvement in magical ability is an interaction between cognition and thought, a process of transforming knowledge into tangible power…”

“And the most crucial step in advancing from a low to a mid-level caster is constructing one’s own unique Mental Anchor. This requires the caster to fuse their understanding of the real world, their perception of their own existence, and their conviction in their knowledge.”

Harvey closed the book, a persistent feeling telling him something was off about the theories his master had taught him.

“Then why can I enter the Magic Net space for roaming? I clearly haven’t successfully constructed my own Mental Anchor yet.”

Harvey suspected the problem might lie with his sigil, which had become completely unrecognizable.

Although he had successfully inscribed a three-circle spell within the sigil, meeting the basic requirement for advancing to a mid-level caster, Harvey would never dare to attempt the advancement before resolving the issue of the sigil’s mutation.

“It seems I’ll have to find a chance to visit Araye, the City of Magic, in person and solve the advancement problem through proper channels…”

Merely putting up a front on the Magic Net Forum wouldn’t work forever. He would eventually run out of excuses, and one day his cover as an amateur would be blown. High-level casters were not fools who could be easily deceived.

So, for the time being, Harvey could only turn his attention to the portion of ancient knowledge he had acquired from the spatial fissure a few days ago.

It now existed in his consciousness in the form of a fruit of knowledge, ready to be studied at any time.

It was now midnight, the period when death energy was most active in the Magic Net space. Without needing much meditative guidance, Harvey easily submerged himself in his consciousness and began to analyze it with his mental energy.

The moment his mental energy touched the fruit, Harvey discovered that its structure was extremely fragile. In an instant, it shattered and split into several luminous nuclei, which arranged themselves in a scattered pattern within his consciousness.

“Huh? The arrangement and distribution of these luminous nuclei… there’s a connection, a pattern…”

Having seen countless formulas from various scientific disciplines in his past life, Harvey keenly noticed the inherent properties it contained.

He tried to devour one of the luminous nuclei with his mental energy and immediately acquired the first key piece of knowledge.

“Elemental Fragmentation…”

The second nucleus was also quickly absorbed by Harvey’s mental energy.

“Material Reconstitution…”

These two nuclei were very close to each other, clearly linked by some pattern. “Fragmentation” and “Reconstitution”—it seemed his future experiments had a new direction.

After absorbing two knowledge nuclei in a row, Harvey’s mental energy showed signs of depletion. There was nothing to be done; such was the feeble nature of a low-level caster.

He decided to stop for now, rest for the night to recover his energy, and begin experiments on the new knowledge the next day.

…

Late the next night, Harvey, along with Astaren and Rainer, was in the underground laboratory, tensely preparing for the upcoming experiment.

First, he used his limited stock of liquid mithril to draw a simple fusion magic matrix according to the magical knowledge he absorbed yesterday. He repeatedly activated it through the energy-gathering array to observe the integrity of the energy pathways within the array’s design.

“The energy pathways are fine, and all the conversion connection points in the matrix can be activated normally…” Rainer reported, holding the experiment logbook and standing beside the array, skillfully rattling off a long list of observations.

“What about the matrix’s structure? If the structure is unstable, it won’t be able to be maintained for long even if activated, which will still lead to a failed experiment.”

When it came to researching a new type of array, Astaren was far more cautious than Rainer, often pointing out the areas most prone to oversight right away.

Harvey was very satisfied with the rigorous and earnest attitude of his two lab assistants.

“Alright, one last check, and then we’ll begin!”

He took a pre-prepared research material from the lab bench and placed it in the center of the array.

“Starting with nature-type magic materials?” Astaren asked with a frown. He still remembered that they had started the same way when analyzing the beetle ore, but with no results.

Harvey smiled. “This was Egnor’s suggestion. He said nature-type magic materials are the most sensitive and fragile, which means they are the most likely to produce an experimental reaction.”

If the half-elf hadn’t spent the day treating three villagers suffering from festering sores and wasn’t now in a deep sleep due to magical energy and mental energy exhaustion, Harvey would have wanted him to observe the experiment as well.

The three of them stopped their idle chatter and activated the magic array’s power supply. As the mithril lines of the matrix gradually filled with energy, each connection point began to glow with a faint silvery-white light.

The magical plant material placed in the center of the array slowly broke apart and disintegrated as if weathered by time, turning into a small pile of pale green powder.

Harvey gestured for Rainer to record the result. “Begin phase two immediately—the reconstitution experiment.”

The flowing mithril lines on the array instantly reversed course, moving at a speed far exceeding the first phase.

The pile of pale green magical plant powder was gently lifted by an invisible flow of energy, suspended in mid-air, and finally coalesced into a fist-sized liquid mass.

“Huh? Why did it turn into this after reconstitution? Shouldn’t it have returned to its original plant form?” Rainer muttered, clutching his small notebook.

Astaren rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Reconstitution just means the essence of the material is re-fused, it’s not time reversal. Do you think this is a spell experiment for a Legendary Caster?”

Harvey, however, was extremely satisfied with the result.

This form of fragmentation and reconstitution meant that he could bypass the most important extraction and refinement stages in alchemy and directly obtain the material’s essence. This was basically no different from cheating.

He never expected the knowledge obtained from the monster in the spatial fissure to be so advanced and powerful.

“With this array, we can try to reconstitute a large amount of magical plants and achieve mass-production of low-level alchemical potions…”

Astaren quickly interrupted Harvey’s wonderful fantasy. “My lord, both energy-gathering arrays are currently running in an overloaded state. They can’t support the power supply for any more arrays.”

The smile that had just formed on Harvey’s lips immediately froze, and he could only cough awkwardly a couple of times to cover it up.

The situation was indeed as Astaren had described. Besides the daily maintenance of the Magic Net Forum, the energy-gathering arrays also had to repeatedly supply power to a large number of Charged magic stones, which were used to drive the numerous combat-type and work-type alchemical beasts.

The “agricultural machines” set up on the farm were particularly power-hungry, consuming the energy of more than six magic stones almost every day.

They were truly teetering on the edge of an energy crisis…

Seeing Harvey’s crestfallen expression, Rainer quickly spoke up to liven the mood, suggesting with a hint of fanaticism, “My lord, let’s try reconstituting the beetle ore!”

The soul fire in Astaren’s eyes flared as he said angrily, “Haven’t you learned your lesson from the last experimental explosion? My lord was nearly blown to the ceiling.”

Rainer’s shoulders slumped, and he muttered quietly, “But my lord was fine in the end, wasn’t he…”

“Just because you were lucky once doesn’t mean you’ll be lucky every time,” Astaren reminded him sternly.

Chapter 63: Magical Energy Bullets

In the end, Astaren still couldn’t win against the two research-type Spellcasters who, despite their lack of skill, were hopelessly addicted.

But at his strong insistence, Harvey agreed to the same arrangement as last time: Rainer would conduct the experiment while he stayed obediently behind the lab’s special explosion-proof shield, providing guidance and observation through his Eye of Reconnaissance.

In Astaren’s words, Rainer’s new cybernetics were arriving next month anyway. As long as his current body wasn’t blown into pieces that couldn’t be put back together, he was free to be as reckless as he wanted.

“We can’t be too careless. The beetle ore inventory is already low, and we need to rush the next batch of Magical Energy Guns… Let’s use the experimental materials sparingly…”

Harvey exchanged a wry smile with Rainer, helpless against the old-fashioned Astaren.

Rainer placed a piece of beetle ore in the center of the recombination array, then walked over to the energy-gathering array to personally activate its charging sequence.

The array’s pulverizing effect on mineral-type magical substances was, as expected, identical to its effect on plant-based materials—it was instantly broken down into a crystalline powder.

Harvey wasn’t the least bit worried about this decomposition stage of the experiment. After all, the Alchemical Exploration Society had long since developed specialized instruments for breaking down magical substances.

The crucial part was the recombination step.

As Rainer initiated the second stage of the experiment, the array’s energy instantly reversed and accelerated. The ore, which had been broken down into a crystalline powder, slowly began to coalesce and re-form, eventually creating an irregularly shaped, translucent mass.

“Hm? It didn’t return to its crystalline mineral form?” Harvey observed this phenomenon through his Eye of Reconnaissance, immediately feeling a bit puzzled.

Logically, the decomposition and recombination of a mineral-type material should have restored its original form…

After all, it wasn’t an organic lifeform like a plant.

After receiving Harvey’s permission, Rainer slowly approached the translucent mass in the center of the array with a pair of tweezers and gave it a light poke.

“My lord! It’s… it’s soft!”

Semi-congealed? Or semi-solid? Astaren was also stunned. He hurried to the array, snatched the tweezers from Rainer’s hand, and tried touching the substance himself.

“Indeed. There are no layers; the whole thing is in a semi-congealed state, like…” He seemed unable to describe it with a concrete object.

Like jelly… or a slime… Harvey muttered inwardly.

He then stepped out from behind the special explosion-proof shield, took the tweezers from the stunned and contemplative Astaren, and carefully peeled off a small piece from the mass.

He then transferred it to a fixed stand on the lab bench.

But in just a dozen seconds, the small, separated piece of material gradually solidified and hardened from its original jelly-like state, returning to the hard, crystalline form of the ore.

“What a strange mineral. Its properties change so drastically depending on whether it’s aggregated or separated.”

Harvey carefully picked up the now fully solidified mineral particle and handed it to Rainer with an instruction.

“Verify if this separated mineral particle still stores pure, compressed energy…”

Rainer had intended to inlay it directly into the energy slot on his waist, but he frustratingly found that the particle was too small to be secured. He could only bring over a power line from the energy-gathering array and attempt to draw out any magical energy that might be inside the particle.

He randomly selected a newly assembled, uncharged “fire poker” version of a Magical Energy Gun from the assembly line as the target for the energy transfer.

As the power line was connected, the energy-storage inscriptions on the Magical Energy Gun lit up faintly, then instantly went dark.

“My lord! This mineral particle really does retain compressed magical energy! It can power the Magical Energy Gun!” Rainer reported to Harvey in pleasant surprise.

Harvey strode forward, took the Magical Energy Gun, and fired at the black stone wall.

An energy beam shot out, piercing the stone wall and leaving behind a hole the width of a finger.

“It only provides enough magical energy for one shot…” Harvey said, somewhat regretfully.

By now, Astaren had already divided the entire soft, semi-congealed mass into mineral particles of uniform size and shape, confirming that one whole beetle ore could be proportionally divided into ten hardened particles.

“Wait!” A flash of inspiration suddenly struck Harvey.

One beetle ore could be converted to power one Magical Energy Gun. In that case, did ten particles made from one ore mean they could provide the gun with ten shots of energy?

Weren’t these basically magical rifle bullets?!

If the Magical Energy Gun was slightly modified to include a storage chamber for these mineral particles, this magical weapon, whose technology already surpassed this era, would be no different from the rifles of his previous life.

And it could fire in succession! There would be no need for repeated chambering and ejecting like a bolt-action rifle!

If they had enough mineral particles, it might even be possible to upgrade it into a magical version of a rotary cannon!

Harvey dropped the Magical Energy Gun, hurried back to the lab bench, pulled out a blank sheet of paper, and began to sketch his ideas for the gun’s modifications with a charcoal pencil.

The chamber didn’t need to be fixed to the gun’s body; a magazine-style system would be most suitable. The weight also needed to be controlled. After all, ordinary soldiers weren’t alchemical lifeforms. If they had to carry overly heavy guns on long marches or in mobile combat, it would severely drain their stamina and combat effectiveness.

Hmm… for now, let’s set the magazine capacity at ten rounds. Once the production of beetle ore increases, we can consider upgrading to a larger twenty-round magazine.

The production of beetle ore depended on the reserves of low-grade charged magic stones, since only this “magical feed” could accelerate their growth and reproductive cycles.

And the reserves of low-grade charged magic stones depended on the money in his hands…

At this thought, Harvey didn’t hesitate for a moment. He turned his head and instructed Rainer.

“Withdraw twenty thousand gold pounds from the fifty thousand we received the day before yesterday. Sign a continuous supply contract with the Frost Giant in Hollowhearth City. If his output isn’t enough, contact Mr. George Santos of the Dragonstone Merchant Guild.”

Buying magic stones from the Dragonstone Merchant Guild was certainly more expensive than buying them directly from the Federation using his status as a Federation Spellcaster.

But in terms of safety and discretion, Harvey would never consider buying magic stones through Federation channels.

After all, no non-combat Spellcaster would purchase such a large quantity of charged magic stones in a short period. It would undoubtedly attract the Federation’s attention and lead to an investigation.

He could even be suspected of purchasing the magic stones for smuggling or reselling to non-allied races. If he was branded with that crime, he wouldn’t be able to clear his name even if he jumped into the ocean.

The Federation had always strictly controlled the circulation of magic stones, especially regarding exports to the Elves and potential smuggling to their mortal enemies, the Demons…

Caution and a low profile were what he needed to maintain most right now!

Chapter 64: Medical-Type Alchemical Beast

“My lord Harvey! Look at this wonderful thing!” Egnor said, excitedly leading two people to find Harvey in the underground laboratory.

“Ugh… What the hell is this thing?”

Harvey watched as a few short, thick, snake-like creatures tumbled out of the damp burlap sack before him. A slimy liquid from their bodies coated the laboratory floor, and he instantly felt a wave of nausea.

Egnor, however, paid it no mind. He bent down, picked one up, and firmly gripped what appeared to be the strange, short snake’s neck, preventing it from twisting its head to attack him.

“Do you remember I reported to you last week that some of our people were attacked by venomous snakes while picking mushrooms in the Greenwater Marsh to the west?”

Harvey scratched his head, vaguely recalling something of the sort.

About a two or three-hour journey west of the territory lay an extremely vast marshland, which produced an exceptionally delicious, non-toxic mushroom that the people called the Red Algae Mushroom. Harvey himself had several times enjoyed a rich soup made from Red Algae Mushrooms and fresh fish, and it was indeed incredibly savory.

Presumably, it was because of this that some of the unemployed people in the territory would often go to the Greenwater Marsh to pick mushrooms. After all, the market district was no longer Harvey’s exclusive monopoly. He encouraged those without steady jobs to freely sell what they hunted or gathered in the market, requiring only a small tax.

As more and more people went to the marsh to gather and hunt, accidents involving attacks from wild beasts, venomous snakes, and poisonous insects became more frequent.

Harvey had considered that it was time to establish a proper medical system in the territory, both to address the daily medical needs of the people and to begin preparing the medical personnel needed for the war that was not far off.

Unsurprisingly, this important task fell to the half-elf Egnor. His performance had already earned him the trust and admiration of Harvey and the other three, so he no longer had to wander around the territory bored all day.

Egnor took this appointment very seriously. He felt that his skills finally had a place to be used, and no one discriminated against him for his mixed heritage anymore.

The Territorial Medical Institute he now led already had about ten apothecaries and medical care staff, all personally trained by him, working normally.

Therefore, the people who had been bitten by venomous snakes in the marsh were, as a matter of course, handed over to him for detoxification and treatment.

“My lord, this thing isn’t a venomous snake at all!” Egnor proclaimed, quite pleased with himself as he brandished the slimy creature at Harvey.

Harvey couldn’t help but take a step back. “Then what is it? A poisonous loach? If you can’t eat it, throw it far away.”

“No, no, no! It’s not a loach, either. It’s an insect! An insect like a giant leech!”

Egnor began to ramble on, reporting his research findings on this giant leech to Harvey.

“So, you’re saying the mucus on this thick leech has properties that heal and accelerate wound recovery,” Harvey asked, a bit uncertainly. “And its fangs can secrete a toxin similar to an anesthetic, making its prey unable to feel pain?”

Egnor nodded and added, “All these characteristics serve to satisfy this creature’s bloodthirsty hunting needs. It latches onto large animals and uses its paralytic toxin to drain their blood without the prey even noticing.”

Egnor also mentioned that this creature was extremely sensitive to the scent of blood. Some of the people who were attacked had only a tiny, nearly-healed cut on their fingers or toes, yet the creature was able to find them immediately by following the scent.

But humans were clearly not within its usual range of prey. After all, no one would fail to notice a strange, arm-thick snake attached to their body, sucking their blood.

“I plan to capture a large number of these creatures and try to raise them. That way, we’ll have a continuous supply of raw materials for anesthetic and pain relief, as well as ingredients for healing potions that speed up wound recovery…”

An idea sparked in Harvey’s mind. “Hmm, good,” he said. “That’s indeed a very meaningful idea. You have my full support. If you need more manpower, go find Pierce at the barracks. If you need funding, go to Rainer.”

“Leave these giant leeches with me. I happen to be in need of some live test subjects…”

Having gotten the promise of manpower and funds he wanted, Egnor left joyfully with his medical staff.

After a moment, Harvey suddenly realized that the man hadn’t come today to report on the medical institute’s progress at all, but purely to wheedle funds out of him…

…

Harvey worked at his desk for a while longer, refining the draft sketches for the Magical Energy Gun modifications. He broke them down into several detailed blueprints and then pressed the communication device to call Rainer and Astaren.

Today, both of them were at the farm, teaching the Agriculture Department staff how to maintain and repair the work-type alchemical beasts.

Harvey’s gaze fell on the burlap sack, tied shut and tossed on the floor, still wriggling. Another wave of disgust churned in his stomach.

In his previous life, the creature he hated most was the leech.

Casting Mage Hand, he tossed the sack into the container for live specimens, pulled out one of the giant leeches, and slapped it onto the lab bench. The leech twisted and struggled under the pressure of the Mage Hand, splattering slime everywhere.

“Ew… so disgusting!”

Standing far back, he grabbed a wild rabbit from another container. He took a blade and made a long cut on its strong hind leg, then dabbed a small amount of the leech’s mucus onto the rabbit’s wound.

The glob of mucus quickly covered the cut, staunching the flow of blood.

It seemed Egnor was right. Since these giant leeches were fragile, soft-bodied creatures, they must have evolved an incredible restorative ability to ensure their survival.

This was a natural rule of evolution in the wild…

As for the paralytic toxin in its fangs, Harvey didn’t plan on trying to analyze it. The half-elf Egnor was much more professional in that area; it was more appropriate to leave the research to him.

The rabbit, now cut and healed, suddenly hopped twice, unintentionally moving closer to the struggling leech.

As if sensing the scent of blood, the giant leech immediately stopped its useless struggling and stretched its body out as far as it could toward the rabbit.

It really was extremely sensitive to the scent of blood…

Harvey’s thoughts began to drift. “If I can make use of its sensitivity to blood, combined with its inherent paralyzing and healing abilities, perhaps…”

“Perhaps I can use soul transformation to turn this leech into a medical-type alchemical beast?”

“That way, it would at least have the therapeutic functions of examining wounds, stopping bleeding, and providing rapid pain relief, all at the same time!”

He immediately rushed back to his desk to jot down his sudden inspiration.

Once Rainer and Astaren arrived, he could immediately begin the transformation experiments!

After all, the one thing he didn’t lack right now was a continuous supply of scrap alchemical parts sent from the Alchemical Exploration Society!

Chapter 65: A New Order Has Arrived!

The Burrowing Dwarf chief, Noli, was sitting comfortably on the sofa by the fireplace, carefully reading a ledger he held in his hands.

“Noli! Good heavens! Look what I just managed to do!”

His good-for-nothing younger brother, Copperhammer, burst into his study, shouting and yelling again. Noli rolled his eyes speechlessly.

Copperhammer paid him no mind, smugly waving a thin piece of paper in his hand. “You’ve always looked down on my business sense, haven’t you? Hmph, take a look at this…”

The dwarf chief managed to push himself up and took the specially enchanted paper from Copperhammer’s hand, roughly reading the first few lines.

His eyes suddenly widened, and his breathing grew heavy.

“This… where did you get this order?”

Copperhammer said proudly, “How about it? An order for twenty thousand gold pounds’ worth of raw magic stone ore, and it’s a long-term supply contract!”

Hollowhearth City was located in the hilly region by the sea in the southern part of the Southern Continent. It was the ancestral territory of the Burrowing Dwarves, and because the land was barren and unsuitable for farming, no other race was willing to go through the thankless task of fighting these shorties who spent their days burrowing underground for it.

But the unique racial talent of the Burrowing Dwarves allowed them to find magic stone veins deep within the barren land and excavate them on a massive scale.

Gradually, an industry centered on the export of raw magic stone ore was formed.

The Hollowhearth City where Copperhammer and Noli lived was built on top of the largest magic stone vein in the southern hills.

After nearly two hundred years of excavation, the output of low-grade ore was still plentiful, but the production of the rarer high-grade ore had been declining year by year.

They had to dig into deeper subterranean levels to mine high-grade ore, making the difficulty and cost of excavation higher than before.

In addition, the joint monopoly held by the human wizard kingdoms and the Federation meant their sales channels were limited, leaving them subject to the exploitation and price suppression of the Magic Stone Merchant Guild.

“Twenty thousand pounds, and they only need low-grade magic stones… This Mr. Kel… Thuzad, is he really not just messing with you?” Noli stared at the order, still finding it hard to believe.

After all, Hollowhearth City’s profits had been poor in recent years. This was especially true after the Federation occupied the newly discovered magic stone vein in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, which led the Magic Stone Merchant Guild to repeatedly drive down the price of their raw ore.

“Our annual profit from ore exports is barely fifty thousand gold pounds. If we sign this deal, for twenty thousand pounds’ worth of low-grade magic stones, we can make a profit of at least half of that…”

Low-grade magic stones didn’t have high extraction costs to begin with, and they also had a stockpile of inferior quality ones that the Magic Stone Merchant Guild flat-out refused to purchase. They had been gathering dust in the warehouse for years.

“We’ll do it! We have to secure this order!” Noli slapped his thigh decisively, then grabbed Copperhammer to give him a reminder. “This mysterious Forum member, this Mr. what’s-his-name… Kel… Thuzad, do you know anything about his identity?”

He didn’t want to get caught up in troublesome affairs like magic stone smuggling or colluding with the Demons.

“Don’t worry, I did a deal with him before. It all started with that strange piece of ore… Ugh, there hasn’t been much progress on it yet, but we have an initial direction for analysis…”

Noli frowned and roared, “Don’t talk to me about your damn ore! Tell me about the risks of this deal!”

“Alright, alright… Uh, this Mr. Kel’Thuzad is a battle mage. I’m basically certain of that.”

“But he seems to have a Spellcaster organization behind him, one made up of battle mages. It’s probably a private group that profits from exploring ancient ruins.”

Noli asked, puzzled, “How do you know so much?”

Copperhammer grinned and explained, “Have you ever seen a research-type Spellcaster who has to trade with others even for a three-circle spell? Only those battle mages, whose minds are completely filled with spell combat, would be so shallow in their knowledge!”

“I estimate this batch of ore will flow to the private groups of Free Spellcasters. After all, the Federation’s goods aren’t cheap, and the private battle mages don’t need to participate in the defense of the Evil Moon Mountain Range, so they naturally need more channels for purchasing.”

“Are you sure we won’t be targeted and suspected by the Federation? This is still snatching a piece of meat from their mouths.”

Copperhammer said disdainfully, “This is why I tell you to go to Araye and see the world. Why would the Federation care about such a tiny scrap of meat?”

Harvey looked with satisfaction at the order confirmation that Rainer had retrieved from the teleportation array. He picked up a quill and signed the contract with his own unique sigil emblem.

This was a common method for anonymous transactions. There was no need to sign one’s real name on the Magical Contract; providing the corresponding sigil emblem was enough to be bound by the contract’s restrictions through the power of the Magic Net space.

“An order for twenty thousand gold pounds of low-grade magic stones. At a seventy percent discount, that’s five gold pounds per stone, for a total purchase of four thousand stones…”

The Frost Giant had tactfully mentioned in his reply that his mine currently didn’t have this many standard-quality low-grade magic stones, so he could only supply about five hundred per month. However, he would provide an additional two hundred cracked or defective magic stones free of charge as compensation for the delayed delivery.

Harvey felt like this was an absolute steal. After all, the only problem with defective magic stones was that their recharging capacity was limited and they were prone to shattering or breaking. Since he was just using them as a one-time “feed” for his beetles, he didn’t care about their quality at all.

However, he still decided to push the other party’s bottom line a little further. He picked up his pen and wrote a reply expressing his extreme dissatisfaction, demanding that the number of complimentary defective magic stones be increased to match the number of stones purchased.

After a moment’s thought, Harvey turned to look at Astaren, who was busy on the assembly line.

“What’s our current monthly consumption of magic stones for feeding the beetles?”

Without looking up, Astaren replied, “Two thousand beetles consume twenty magic stones a day, so six hundred a month… I reminded you this morning that we only have enough magic stones left for three days.”

“Increase the beetle breeding scale to four thousand!”

Astaren froze for a second, then asked irritably, “What’s the point of just increasing the beetle production? Both energy-gathering arrays are already working on overdrive. Weren’t you the one crying about an energy crisis every day?”

Harvey chuckled, looking completely self-assured. “The problem is basically solved. I managed to get my hands on some parts from two decommissioned continental-level teleportation arrays from the Alchemical Exploration Society.”

“Really? Your contact on that Magic Net Forum has that much authority in the Esoteric Society? He can just sell you alchemical products of that technological level privately?”

“Of course. I exchanged a large number of points with them for it. Didn’t spend a single coin!”

This wasn’t the first time Harvey had managed to acquire something for nothing on the Magic Net Forum. Leeks, once harvested, would always grow back quickly. As long as he didn’t resort to the foolish method of killing the goose that lays the golden eggs, the Magic Net Forum itself was his greatest network and resource platform.

Once this new batch of members had settled in, Harvey planned to release another round of invitation slots. This time, however, he wasn’t going to do it like before, where each member was allotted one invitation.

This time, he planned to have them bid for the slots…

Chapter 66: Advancing Toward the Barren Lands

Vaughn and Wayne walked into the barracks one after the other and were immediately surrounded by all the men.

“Squad leader! Tell us! What’s the new weapon like?” A few impatient soldiers forcibly pushed the two of them into chairs and began to pepper them with questions.

Vaughn bit his lip, trying hard not to laugh out loud. He glanced at his new deputy squad leader, Wayne. “You tell them.”

Wayne nodded, pulled a Magical Energy Gun from the long leather case on his back, and laid it across his lap.

“What? Where’s the new weapon? Isn’t this just the same old Magical Energy Gun?” Tommy shouted, grabbing the gun and examining it from every angle, unable to find anything different.

“This is indeed the new weapon…” Wayne said with a mysterious expression. “Vaughn and I were called over today specifically to test them.”

The first batch of recruited militia had been reorganized by Pierce into the Sharpshooter Squad, all of whom were issued Magical Energy Guns for standard marksmanship training. However, with a capacity of only three shots, the guns were insufficient to achieve overwhelming fire suppression in battle, so they also had to practice bayonet and javelin techniques in their daily drills.

“This new model of the Magical Energy Gun, after being fully charged, can fire ten times in a row!”

“What? Ten consecutive shots?” A collective gasp echoed through the barracks.

Wayne glanced around the room, a look of pride on his face. “The labs have only managed to produce fifty of the new models so far, so don’t even think about everyone getting one. The commander said that only the top fifty soldiers in the moving target shooting assessment are qualified to use them…”

Vaughn, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up. “With the new model, you don’t have to take it to be recharged after every shot anymore…” He took a flat, rectangular metal box from his belt pouch and, under the puzzled gazes of the men, inserted it into a slot under the gun’s stock.

The previously dim inscriptions on the Magical Energy Gun’s surface immediately lit up, indicating that the weapon was now charged and ready to fire an energy beam at any moment.

The quick-witted Tommy reacted instantly, his voice filled with pleasant surprise. “A Magical Energy Gun with on-the-go charging? That means we can fire without worry even when we’re out on a mission, without having to fear running out of energy!”

Vaughn nodded. “Commander Pierce will be distributing the new Magical Energy Guns… and the ammunition, this afternoon. I’m here now to verify the list of soldiers eligible to receive one. From now on, whether for live-fire training or a combat mission, we will need to record the amount of ammunition each person is issued…”

The men burst into another round of excited discussion.

Just as Vaughn was about to raise his hand to quiet everyone down, the sharp sound of an assembly whistle blew from outside the barracks.

…

It was the signal for a full assembly!

Pierce stood on the camp’s training ground, looking at the dense, orderly formation of soldiers before him. His face was grim as he announced, “The lord has issued an order! Assemble a combat team to proceed to the Icefield River Valley and establish a defensive outpost.”

“The squad leaders whose names I call, step forward!”

“Sharpshooter Squad, Squad leader Vaughn!”

Vaughn’s spirits lifted. He stepped forward and answered loudly, “Here!”

Pierce gave a slight nod. “You will take fifty soldiers from the Sharpshooter Squad to participate in this operation!”

The Sharpshooter Squad’s initial group of recruits had numbered less than eighty. Pierce had later selected more men from a second recruitment drive to supplement their ranks, bringing the total to a full one hundred soldiers, led by Squad leader Vaughn and ten deputy squad leaders, including Wayne.

“Reserve Squad Two, Squad leader Clatt!”

The rookie squad leader who had been the sole standout in the shooting competition also stepped forward. Among the four hundred-man reserve squads, he was the rookie with the best training results across the board.

“Reserve Squad Four, Squad leader Ironsalt!”

…

Vaughn was a little dazed. Logically speaking, sending so few soldiers to the front lines in the Icefield River Valley to confront the vile orc invasion was probably not enough.

A direct confrontation with the vile orcs was completely different from their usual patrols, where they took potshots at lone stragglers.

Could it be that Commander Pierce intended to send all the alchemical Wolf Spider Beasts to the front lines as well?

Then what would happen to the territory’s patrols and security? Without the Wolf Spider Beasts’ early warnings and tracking capabilities, ordinary soldiers would have no way to deal with the roaming vile orcs. Losing the element of surprise would inevitably lead to casualties.

If the vile orcs managed to occasionally break through their defenses and enter the territory’s borders, Vaughn dared not imagine what would happen to the defenseless civilians, or if the soldiers would even have time to rescue them…

“Sharpshooter Squad, remain. The other squads are dismissed. Assemble in two hours, ready to move out!”

Vaughn and Wayne exchanged a look, understanding that it was time for the new weapons to be distributed.

Dav clutched the four magazines and the new gun he had been issued, his face alight with excitement. He boasted to the other soldiers, “Heh heh, forty rounds of magic ammunition! If a whole group of vile orcs showed up right now, I bet I could take ’em all down, one by one!”

A veteran deputy squad leader scoffed. “Big talk. You think they’re a bunch of wooden posts? That they’ll just stand there and let you use them for target practice?”

The men burst into laughter and then began inspecting their new equipment.

At around four in the afternoon, the assembly whistle blew again. The two-hundred-and-fifty-man combat team assembled on the square and then began to slowly march out of the territory.

The journey to the Icefield River Valley would take at least two days and one night on foot, requiring them to make camp once along the way. To that end, they had brought several alchemical camel-beasts and a dozen logistics personnel.

Just as Vaughn had expected, as soon as they passed through the territory’s outer wall, he saw Mr. Astaren waiting by the side of the road with about thirty Wolf Spider Beasts.

The territory now had a total of about fifty Wolf Spider Beasts, which meant this mission was taking more than half of their defensive and reconnaissance force in one fell swoop.

But he was surprised to see something else. Huddled behind the long, sharp-legged Wolf Spider Beasts were ten strangely shaped alchemical beasts. They were slightly smaller than the pack beasts, but still appeared monstrous next to an ordinary soldier.

It was shaped like a large carriage, its boxy body supported by six metal legs thicker than Vaughn’s waist, steadily holding up the giant’s massive frame.

Standing before it, Vaughn, at one meter ninety, probably only came up to half its height.

“What is that thing?” Dav muttered from the back of the formation. Other sharp-eyed soldiers also began whispering among themselves.

Commander Pierce’s cold voice came from the head of the column. “All of you, maintain silence! Those are new war-type alchemical beasts developed by the lord.”

“Now, on my command, all soldiers will board the War Beasts by squad, two squads per beast!”

Huh? Vaughn froze, not quite understanding what the commander was saying.

So this thing really was a carriage? But the mountain roads were so rugged and uneven. Could it really carry so many soldiers through the primeval forest?

With a single raise of his hand, Astaren had the thirteen War Beasts obediently retract their thick legs and squat steadily on the ground. A man-high, door-shaped opening split open on each of their abdomens.

Though confused, Vaughn strictly followed the command, leading two squads of soldiers into the belly of a War Beast.

The interior was quite spacious; twenty men could lean against the walls without feeling crowded at all. They could observe the outside through small, circular windows set with crystal lenses on the left and right sides. A small light-emitting magic stone was fixed to the ceiling, providing simple illumination for the soldiers inside.

Dav was a little scared. He leaned close to Vaughn’s ear and whispered, “This thing is terrifying. And we have to sit in its stomach? What if I have to take a shit?”

Astaren happened to be standing right outside their War Beast. Hearing this, he let out a low chuckle. “Then you’d better pray you can hold it. Friendly tip, this thing is alive…”

The hatch on the War Beast’s abdomen closed. Vaughn felt a continuous, faint vibration, and then heard the sound of the beast’s heavy footsteps.

And just like that, the dozen or so giant beasts, carrying over two hundred soldiers, began their slow advance northward, gradually disappearing into the dense, primeval forest…

Chapter 67: Frontal Engagement

“All units, prepare to fire! Fire!”

Vaughn braced the gunstock firmly against his shoulder, aimed at a vile orc charging at the very front, and steadily squeezed the trigger.

The vile orc, running at full speed, suddenly faltered. A charred, bloody hole appeared in the center of its chest, and it collapsed to the ground, silent.

“Eighth one!” He turned his head and shouted his kill count to the soldier lying prone beside him on top of the War Beast.

This was a method for boosting morale that Officer Pierce had repeatedly emphasized when conducting tactical training for all their junior officers.

The officer himself would lead by example, inspiring courage and a sense of honor in his men with his impressive combat record.

But in reality, his own mind was blank; he was operating the Magical Energy Gun and firing continuously, purely on the instinct built up during routine training.

Their combat squad had just arrived in the river valley area when they suddenly ran head-on into a troop of vile orcs numbering around five hundred. The enemy seemed to have just finished chasing down and slaughtering refugees, and were now loitering lazily on a ravaged riverbank.

The Wolf Spider alchemical beasts and the vile orc sentries spotted each other at almost the same moment, and both immediately sounded the alarm.

Pierce made a snap decision, ordering the War Beasts carrying the soldiers to form a horizontal line and crouch in place, creating a solid metal defensive line.

All the soldiers of the Sharpshooter Squad then climbed to the top of the War Beasts and began firing at the vile orcs swarming toward them from a distance.

The first volley of gunfire cut down the charging front rank of vile orcs like scythed wheat.

But the vile orcs were numerous and extremely agile running through the mountainous terrain. In just a few dozen seconds, they had charged to within ten meters of the defensive line. The soldiers positioned high up could already clearly see the vile orcs’ ugly, contorted faces, their menacing tusks, and their blood-red eyes, wide as copper bells.

Among the soldiers positioned behind the War Beasts, those without the new model of Magical Energy Gun, a trace of wavering began to appear in the ranks.

A tall vile orc, having luckily avoided several shots, rushed to the foot of a War Beast. With a powerful leap, it clung to the machine’s body and attempted to climb to the top to attack the Sharpshooter Squad soldiers.

“Squad leader! Watch out below!”

Vaughn snapped back to his senses, pointed his barrel downward, and fired the shot with the muzzle practically pressed against the climbing vile orc’s forehead.

A foul-smelling spray of blood splattered across his face, seemingly mixed with fragments of brain matter.

Vaughn didn’t bother wiping away the filth. He quickly scrambled back a couple of steps, took a new magazine from his deputy squad leader, Wayne, and swapped it in with trembling hands.

On the neighboring War Beast, his comrade-in-arms, Dav, had also easily hit two approaching vile orcs. He pursed his lips and whistled at Vaughn, a smug look on his face.

“Only got a few kills? What’s there to show off about?” Deputy squad leader Wayne shot him a glare.

“All units, attention! Fire at will! Trainees, once your magazines are empty, advance with spears and secure the defensive line!”

Receiving the order, the trainees on the ground dropped prone and fired at will at the vile orcs outside the line, shooting through the gaps beneath the War Beasts.

The old-model Magical Energy Guns only had a capacity of three to five rounds, which were depleted in half a minute.

The trainees immediately stood up, drew the metal spears from their backs, and viciously stabbed at the vile orcs trying to slip through the gaps beneath and beside the War Beasts to get inside the defensive line.

Pierce stood atop a War Beast, using his innate reflexes to effortlessly dodge several bone spears thrown at him. He raised his Magical Energy Gun and specifically targeted the vile orcs wearing iron helmets and bone armor.

This was what My lord Harvey had told him. It was a strategy known as “to catch bandits, first catch the king,” also called a “decapitation strike.”

He was quite satisfied with the performance of the soldiers he had brought. Although a minor commotion had broken out when the vile orcs got close, the habit of strictly following orders, ingrained in them through daily training, made them subconsciously choose to obey.

Astaren stood beside him, watching the situation below, and said softly, “They’ve lost over half their numbers. They’re about to run…”

Pierce cast his gaze forward and saw that a commotion was indeed stirring in the rear ranks of the vile orcs. Many of those at the tail end of the group had begun to turn and run toward the riverbank.

“So these brainless brutes aren’t all fearless after all.”

He paused, then cautiously asked Astaren, “Should we give chase?”

Astaren tilted his head and said coolly, “You’re the commander of this special operation. I’m the officer in charge of controlling the alchemical beasts. Why are you asking me?”

Pierce was momentarily speechless, his face flushing slightly.

“Give the order for the Wolf Spider Beasts to pursue! Trainees and Sharpshooter Squad soldiers, form double columns, provide covering fire for each other, and advance toward the riverbank!”

The two War Beasts slowly moved their heavy bodies, clearing a wide path.

The soldiers formed up as ordered and marched in neat steps toward the riverbank. Along the way, when they passed vile orcs who had been hit by the Magical Energy Guns but not killed instantly, the trainees would take the opportunity to thrust their spears, running them through several times for good measure.

The Wolf Spider Beasts, fifty meters ahead of the formation, relentlessly pursued the fleeing vile orcs. Occasionally, a cornered vile orc would turn, howling, to launch a counterattack, only to be immediately swarmed by the Wolf Spider Beasts—experts in group combat—and torn to shreds.

Some of the Sharpshooter Squad soldiers with better aim also raised their guns and fired as they advanced.

Before long, they had driven the entire routed group of vile orcs onto the open riverbank, where there was no cover whatsoever.

A whistle blew from behind them—the command for the Sharpshooter Squad soldiers to assume a half-crouch and fire in unison.

After another volley, dozens more vile orcs fell into the soft mud of the riverbank.

The remaining hundred-odd vile orcs on the riverbank were scared out of their wits. Their courage to even lift their bone spears and retaliate had vanished. They all dropped the loot they had plundered, and with a series of splashes, jumped into the icy river water, swimming frantically toward the opposite bank.

The order to cease pursuit came. The spear-wielding soldiers stepped out of formation and began another round of finishing them off on the vile orcs lying on the ground who weren’t quite dead yet.

Vaughn lowered the Magical Energy Gun he had been holding at the ready and gazed at the figures of the vile orcs bobbing in the river.

He asked Wayne beside him in a low voice, “I never thought before that vile orcs could be defeated so easily.”

He stared at the slightly hot barrel of his Magical Energy Gun, as if murmuring to himself, “But with the weapons My Lord has given us, I’d dare to stand my ground and pull the trigger even if the Demons themselves charged at me…”

…

After careful consideration, Pierce finally decided to establish the first forward outpost in the river valley on a high point along the riverbank.

This location was not only advantageous for observing and guarding against any vile orcs that might cross the river, but also convenient for constructing a forward fortress to effectively defend against vile orc raids.

This time, My lord Harvey had specifically sent him with a large supply of cement and several work-type alchemical beasts. At most, it would take him three days to build a sturdy cement fortress.

“Make camp on the gentle slope of the high ground, position the War Beasts on the perimeter as a defense, arrange three patrol shifts for the night, and send out all the Wolf Spider Beasts to scout and secure the surrounding area…”

Chapter 68: The River Valley Outpost

The sky was just beginning to lighten as tendrils of cooking smoke rose from the camp.

Vaughn emerged from his tent and walked toward the makeshift mess hall, from which the aroma of wheat porridge wafted.

“Captain Vaughn! Good morning!” Soldiers, both veterans from the Sharpshooter Squad and new recruits from the reserve unit, constantly stopped to salute him.

Lord Harvey had established a strict hierarchy in the army, which included the rule that common soldiers were required to stand still and salute by placing a clenched fist over their chest whenever they encountered a captain like Vaughn, or a squad leader and their deputy.

Vaughn returned the salutes with a stern face, but inside, he couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride.

It wasn’t because his rank was higher than those soldiers, but because of the glorious victory from the previous evening. In a head-on battle against the vile orcs, just fifty soldiers of the Sharpshooter Squad had annihilated nearly two hundred of the enemy.

And Vaughn himself had personally accounted for thirty-three kills.

Even Mr. Astaren had smiled and praised him in front of the others as “the sharpshooter of the Sharpshooter Squad.”

He subconsciously raised a hand to touch the badge he always wore on his left breast. It was the award for winning the shooting competition, pinned there by Lord Harvey himself.

Perhaps, Vaughn thought with delight, once the vile orcs in the river valley were all driven back to the ice plains, he would have another medal to add to his chest.

Pierce and Astaren stood together, watching the alchemical beasts haul construction materials back and forth on the high ground, and the logistics soldiers commanding them to level the earth and fell trees.

“I will return to the territory tomorrow to report the battle situation and our future plans to Lord Harvey…” Astaren said to Pierce admiringly. “You are now fully capable of commanding this combat unit. I will leave the alchemical beasts here with their instructions embedded. When I return, I will bring you a full stock of supplies.”

Pierce watched as Astaren departed, leading a few alchemical beasts slowly back toward the territory.

“Sir, the foundation and the bottom section of the fortress walls have been completed. We just need to let the concrete dry overnight, and the outer construction can be mostly finished by tomorrow.”

Pierce returned to his senses and nodded. “Good. Tonight, have all soldiers and alchemical beasts move inside the fortress to make camp.”

The soldiers he had posted as lookouts on the riverbank had already sent back word that vile orc scouts were constantly appearing on the opposite shore, observing their movements.

Those dim-witted creatures would probably never imagine that they could erect a solid concrete fortress out of thin air in just a few nights, firmly guarding the pass where they crossed the river.

Next, Pierce intended to strictly follow Lord Harvey’s original plan.

Using this river valley outpost as a focal point, they would continuously strike at the invading vile orcs crossing the river, wearing down their effective strength.

The current batch of soldiers would be rotated out after a month with a new group brought by Astaren, allowing all of the territory’s existing military forces to get practical combat experience in the river valley.

Just like the frontal assault last night, they had suffered less than ten minor injuries while easily annihilating more than half of the attacking vile orcs.

As long as the magical ammunition provided by Lord Harvey continued to be transported from the territory in a steady stream…

The vile orcs were nothing more than living, breathing moving targets.

Sharpshooter Squad leaders Wayne and Dav led their respective ten-man squads on the afternoon riverbank patrol mission.

Dav swaggered in front with his gun slung over his shoulder, humming an out-of-tune song from time to time.

“Can you be quiet for a second? You’re distracting me from observing the other side of the river!” Wayne finally snapped, unable to take it anymore.

Dav rolled his eyes contemptuously. “What are you so nervous about? I wish they’d sneak across the river and give me a few more kills for my record.”

Last night, Dav had taken down eighteen vile orcs on his own, exactly one more than Wayne. Always the petty one, he was feeling particularly arrogant and wouldn’t miss any opportunity to mock his rival.

“You son of a bitch! You get lucky once and you’re going to brag about it for the rest of your life?”

“Oh? And you’re not even lucky enough to get your hands on shit while it’s still warm, are you?”

The squad members following in neat formation were all veterans. They secretly listened to their two squad leaders bicker, their mouths twitching as they tried to suppress their laughter, but they didn’t dare interject.

One of the soldiers casually glanced toward the woods on the other side of the riverbank and suddenly noticed something seemed off.

“Squad leader! I think… there’s movement in the woods over there.”

The soldiers immediately unslung their guns in unison, raised them, and took aim.

“Wait!” Wayne quickly raised his hand to stop them, preventing them from firing recklessly in a moment of panic.

He bellowed, “Magic bullets don’t pop out of a sheep’s goddamn ass! Don’t you waste them!”

He and Dav exchanged a look of understanding. They tacitly slowed their steps, raised their guns, and crept cautiously toward the woods.

A rustling sound of rubbing leaves came from a bush, and then a fat, gray-furred wild rabbit shot out, startling everyone.

“Shit! The little bastard scared me!” Dav cursed. Unwilling to waste a bullet, he slung his gun back over his shoulder, pulled the standard-issue short knife from his waist, and dashed into the woods after the rabbit.

Wayne didn’t have time to stop him and could only wave a hand resignedly for the others to follow him into the forest.

He figured they might as well add some wild game to their squad’s lunch.

When they caught up to Dav, they found him already squatting on the ground, a bloody knife clenched in his teeth as he skinned the fat rabbit with a savage grin.

In that short time, the man had actually managed to clear out a rabbit warren.

“Wayne, don’t say I’m not generous. There are only a few of these little critters. Let’s not bother taking them back. Let’s just build a fire right here!”

Two soldiers grinned and rubbed their hands together, preparing to gather the plentiful dry branches to build a fire for a barbecue.

A faint, foul stench hung in the air. Wayne wasn’t sure if it was the gamy smell of the rabbit or something else, but he couldn’t shake a feeling of unease.

His gaze suddenly sharpened, focusing on a patch of bushes quivering slightly behind Dav.

“Dav! Behind you!”

Dav turned around in confusion, just in time to see a tall vile orc burst from the bushes behind him, thrusting a bone spear straight at his chest.

The next second, he was forcefully shoved aside, tumbling and scrambling out of the way.

Wayne fired with the barrel of his gun practically shoved into the vile orc’s mouth, blowing the entire back of its head clean off.

The vile orc collapsed onto Wayne, twitched for half a second, and then went still.

“Wayne! These goddamn vile orcs, they’re ambushing us!” Dav scrambled to his feet and, with the help of two nearby soldiers, hauled the vile orc’s corpse off Wayne.

“Argh! My stomach!” Wayne cried out in agony.

Only then did everyone notice the short bone spear embedded in his stomach. Blood was rapidly soaking through his black uniform.

“Dammit! Quick, tear a strip of cloth and bandage him!” Dav roared at the panicking soldiers, his eyes bloodshot.

“Fuck, Wayne, I can see your guts… Shit, you’re not allowed to die!” Dav cursed, his voice trembling as he tightly wrapped a strip of cloth around the wound on Wayne’s abdomen.

He hesitated for a moment, then gripped the short spear embedded in Wayne’s stomach, ready to grit his teeth and pull it out.

Wayne suddenly suppressed a wail and glared at Dav. “I think you’re fucking trying to kill me! Don’t pull it out!”

He turned his head with difficulty and ordered the other soldiers, “Quick, make a stretcher and carry me back to the outpost!”

He remembered from his training that Commander Pierce had said if anyone suffered a fatal wound but didn’t die on the spot, they were to be carried back to camp for treatment.

Maybe Commander Pierce had brought a good supply of the lord’s miraculous magic potions this time. One sip would be enough to save him.

Chapter 69: Field Hospital

In the camp of the forward bastion, there was a large, separate tent, specially set up by Pierce at Harvey’s request.

Wayne, with a short spear embedded in his stomach, was carried back on a stretcher and sent directly into this tent.

Wayne was still somewhat conscious, constantly gritting his teeth and repeating delirious phrases like, “It hurts so much! Damn it!”

Two medics, personally trained by Egnor at the territory’s infirmary, were so horrified upon seeing the mangled, bloody wound on his stomach and the faint sight of his pale intestines that they threw up on the spot.

Fortunately, they quickly composed themselves and strictly followed the infirmary’s field first-aid procedures. They cut away all of the injured man’s upper clothing with scissors sterilized in boiling water, then carefully cleaned Wayne’s exposed wound with a potion concocted by Egnor.

After finishing these two tasks, the two medics simply stood aside, paying no further attention to Wayne lying on the medical table.

“Is that it? You’re just leaving him? The spear is still stuck in his stomach!” Dav’s eyes widened as he pointed at the increasingly delirious Wayne and shouted angrily.

One of the medics explained, “The rest of the treatment really has nothing to do with us. My lord Egnor decreed it.”

After speaking, he walked to the side and lifted a canvas sheet, revealing a bizarrely shaped alchemical instrument with a metallic sheen.

“The rest of the treatment is handled by this Medical-type alchemical beast…”

With that, he embedded a magic stone into the alchemical beast’s power slot and pulled a lever to activate it.

Everyone was stunned, staring blankly as the inscriptions all over the alchemical beast gradually lit up and it slowly approached Wayne on the medical table.

The alchemical beast had four bizarre, long arms, each with a different shape. One arm was equipped with a slender probe. It waved this arm, slowly tracing over Wayne’s body for a moment, then plunged the probe directly into the small of Wayne’s back.

Just a few dozen seconds later, Wayne stopped his incessant wailing and cursing. His head lolled to the side, and he fell unconscious.

The alchemical beast then activated another arm, one with a three-toed claw, gripped the short spear in Wayne’s stomach, and pulled it out with a gentle tug.

Blood immediately gushed from the wound.

The alchemical beast immediately swung the arm with the probe, sucking up all the gushing blood. Then, another arm that had been idle sprayed a large glob of gel-like slime, covering the massive abdominal wound completely.

This series of actions stopped the bleeding almost instantly.

But the alchemical beast didn’t stop. It moved its final arm, and in coordination with the three-toed claw, began to stitch Wayne’s wound closed, one suture at a time.

Covered in a cold sweat, his lips trembling, Dav looked at the medic and asked in disbelief, “It… it just… stitched Wayne’s stomach… closed?”

The medic rolled his eyes and retorted mercilessly, “What else? Are you suggesting we just leave it open to air out?”

“What did you say?” Vaughn, who was responsible for patrolling another area, had just come off his shift when he heard the news that his squad leader was seriously injured. He hurried back to camp.

“Wayne’s stomach was stitched up with a needle and thread by an alchemical beast?”

The veterans of the Sharpshooter Squad were all talking at once, thinking Dav was exaggerating and boasting again.

“It’s true, I’m not lying! It’s a new kind of magic developed by the lord,” Dav explained incoherently, so excited that spit flew from his mouth.

“I guarantee it. From now on, even if we get an injury as bad as Wayne’s, that thing can save our lives.”

“Really? What if an arm or leg gets chopped off by a vile orc? Can it stitch that back on?”

“What if it’s your head that gets chopped off?”

“It can’t stitch you back together if you’re minced, can it?”

At first, Pierce completely refused to believe that these two strange-looking alchemical beasts, hastily added to the logistics convoy, could be so crucial to his combat troops.

But as the forward bastion was completed and the soldiers’ patrol radius expanded, direct encounters between patrols and vile orcs became increasingly frequent.

Although they possessed the Magical Energy Guns, an overwhelmingly powerful weapon, the vile orcs’ expertise in tracking and concealment still gave the inexperienced soldiers a great deal of trouble.

Over the next half a month, not a day went by without soldiers on patrol being ambushed by vile orcs and carried back injured.

They were sent in a continuous stream into the large tent designated as the “Field Hospital.”

With the exception of a few unlucky souls who died on the spot before they could be rescued, all the other soldiers, whether lightly or seriously wounded, recovered their health in a short time after undergoing the medical alchemical beast’s seemingly rough treatment, getting back on their feet as lively as ever.

On the riverbank in front of the forward bastion, a small, hill-like pile of vile orc heads had been stacked up.

The soldiers of the outpost had done this of their own accord, both to commemorate their comrades who had died unexpectedly in battle and to intimidate the vile orcs who often appeared patrolling the opposite bank.

Some veterans whose close comrades had been wounded or killed would even pull the tusks from the vile orcs they slew, string them together, and hang them around their necks, parading them around the camp.

Pierce recalled something My lord Harvey had mentioned casually when they were discussing military culture.

“Anger and hatred can, to a certain extent, be converted into fighting spirit and cohesion.”

“Commander, we only have enough food to last five days. The magical energy ammunition reserves are also low. We can barely manage to distribute what’s left, but it comes to less than thirty rounds per person…” the squad leader in charge of logistics reported to Pierce, holding a ledger with a worried expression.

Pierce was also at his wit’s end. This was his first time leading soldiers on a long-term campaign, and although My lord Harvey had confidently entrusted him with command, there were still many things he had failed to plan for.

Astaren, who was supposed to return with logistics supplies after a month, had not arrived as scheduled. Pierce could only dispatch a small team of skilled hunters to go out each day and catch wild animals to supplement the soldiers’ rations.

However, the shortage of magical energy ammunition was a problem he couldn’t solve on his own.

If the soldiers had no ammunition and encountered vile orcs on patrol, they would be forced into close combat, where humans were at a complete disadvantage.

It often took three or four soldiers just to kill a single able-bodied vile orc, and even then, they would suffer considerable injuries.

In recent days, the number of vile orc sentinels appearing on the opposite riverbank had been increasing sharply.

Pierce worried that the enemy had realized their powerful weapons were being used less frequently in small-scale skirmishes and were now thinking of crossing the river for a major counterattack.

The rookie commander stood atop the watchtower of the forward bastion, his face etched with anxiety as he gazed in the direction of the territory.

“No wonder My lord Harvey always told me that in war, the most important thing is logistical support.”

Chapter 70: Anomaly in the Beetle Nest

It wasn’t that Astaren was deliberately trying to stall for time and delay leading the support troops to the River Valley Outpost.

He and Harvey had been completely overwhelmed these past two days.

The beetle nest of the Energy-devouring beetles, the territory’s most important resource for development, had experienced an unexpected incident three days ago.

The original nest, which the beetles had dug out themselves, had suddenly suffered a minor collapse.

It revealed an even larger cavern below, its depth currently impossible to determine.

Harvey broke out in a cold sweat just thinking about it.

To think there had been a massive cavern beneath his Main Keep all this time. If it weren’t for the reinforcement work during the construction phase, he might have been buried alive in his sleep one day when the Main Keep collapsed.

Still, he didn’t dare to be complacent. He immediately had Rainer dispatch all the work-type alchemical beasts to reinforce the walls of the underground laboratory and parts of the original beetle nest once more.

But if they didn’t investigate the cavern, all the reinforcing of the Main Keep and laboratory would be pointless.

After all, Harvey had to find out whether the cavern beneath the core of his territory—built upon the ruins of an ancient Mage’s ruins—hid an unknown treasure or a ticking time bomb.

“The free-roaming beetles in the nest have started to gather at the opening of the collapse,” Astaren said, having observed them for a full day and night. “It seems something in the cavern below is attracting them.”

If they didn’t seal the opening, he feared that the tens of thousands of free-roaming beetles would all escape within a few days.

“I plan to send an expedition down into that cavern…” Harvey had a suspicion, but he couldn’t be certain yet.

Why would an ancient Mage’s ruins be located in this desolate land at the foot of the northern slope of the Spine of the Continent Mountains? Why had they chosen this place?

He suspected the answer could only be found by venturing into the cavern itself.

Astaren agreed with Harvey’s plan but was adamantly against him personally undertaking the risk. The probability of unexpected events in such an unknown space was simply too high.

Harvey was at a critical stage in his advancement to mid-level caster and had only inscribed a single three-circle spell into his sigils. If he encountered danger underground, it would be difficult for him to escape unscathed.

“It’s alright, Astaren. I know you’re worried about my safety, but I have to go down and see for myself. Besides, I don’t think exploring an underground cavern can be any more dangerous than exploring that spatial fissure in the Magic Net…”

With two powerful alchemical lifeforms like Astaren and Rainer guarding him, the beetle ore they were equipped with, and a few agile Wolf Spider Beasts for climbing, Harvey felt this expedition party could avoid the vast majority of dangers.

Egnor was recalled from the infirmary to the laboratory in the Main Keep. His duty was to remain behind while Harvey and the others were in the cavern to handle any potential emergencies.

For example, he might need to send more alchemical beasts into the cavern to provide support or rescue Harvey’s team.

“Don’t worry. I won’t move an inch from the communication device. The moment I receive your call for help, I’ll activate every alchemical beast in the laboratory.”

…

Several large light-emitting magic stones were mounted on the Wolf Spider Beasts. As the beasts crawled up and down the surfaces, ignoring the terrain, the general layout of the cavern came into view.

It was indeed a naturally formed cavern, showing no signs of having been worked by hand.

The cavern was several times the size of Harvey’s Main Keep above ground and was filled with dozens of stalactite columns, each so thick it would take several people to encircle them. The surface was unusually dry, suggesting there were no underground rivers nearby.

“This would make an excellent secret laboratory or storage area…” Astaren mused as he walked the perimeter of the cavern, confirming there were no other openings or tunnels.

“Strange,” Harvey, the only human in the party, noted sharply. “If this is a sealed space, why is the air circulating? I don’t feel short of breath or any tightness in my chest.”

Rainer pointed to the countless fine cracks in the surrounding walls and ceiling. “Perhaps these cracks connect the cavern to other fissures deep in the mountain, allowing air to get in,” he guessed.

He remembered the sudden tremor they had experienced long ago while looking out over the northern slope from the summit of Raven Ridge, the very one that had caused the ruins of the ancient Mage to collapse.

“My lord, these stalactite columns should be sufficient to keep the cavern’s structure stable, but I still believe we should add some artificial support columns, just in case.”

Harvey nodded in agreement with Rainer’s cautious suggestion, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something important.

That’s it!

Where had all the Energy-devouring beetles that came down from the nest gone?

Rainer and Astaren realized it too. They immediately directed the Wolf Spider Beasts to search every crevice in the cavern walls, but they found no trace of a single beetle.

Harvey immediately radioed Egnor back in the laboratory and had him catch a few beetles from their enclosure, place them in a small iron cage, and send them down in a hoist basket.

“Simple,” Harvey said. “We’ll release these beetles and follow them. That’ll show us where the main swarm went.”

With that, Harvey opened the cage and shook the plump beetles onto the ground.

The beetles struggled to right themselves, scuttled around aimlessly for a few moments, then abruptly fixed on a direction. They formed a line, like ants, and began crawling toward a distant stalactite column.

Harvey and the others followed close behind. They watched as the beetles crawled purposefully to the stalactite column, gently touched it with their long antennae, paused for a moment, and then climbed onto its surface. Then, as if melting away, they vanished into the stone.

“How is that possible?” Rainer stepped forward in astonishment, running a metal hand over the column’s surface. “How did they disappear? This is a stalactite column, isn’t it? Don’t tell me they can pass through walls.”

A wild idea occurred to Harvey. “Rainer, use the drill on your arm. Try drilling a hole in the column.”

Rainer nodded. He raised his right arm and activated the drill, which whirred at high speed.

The moment the drill bit touched the surface of the stalactite column, there were no sparks or spraying rock dust as Harvey had anticipated.

Instead, the surface cracked like an eggshell, a web of fine, dense fractures spreading out from the point of contact with the drill.

Astaren approached the column, flicked a finger against the cracks, and pieces of the surface shattered and rustled to the ground.

The stalactite shell fell away, revealing the true core of the pillar.

“This… How is this possible!” Harvey was stunned speechless, his mouth agape.

The entire massive column, the one that would take three or four people to encircle, was translucent and crystalline within, shimmering like a flawless gemstone.

This… This was raw magic stone ore!

Chapter 71: Planet-level Energy-gathering Array

Harvey had considered that the ancient Mages must have had a reason for establishing a Mage Tower in this desolate land; there had to be something unique about it.

But he had never imagined that the reason they built the tower here was because a magic stone vein existed deep underground.

And based on the quality and type of the raw ore, it was high-grade charged magic stone, even more valuable than elemental magic stones.

The absurdity of his luck was more incredible than the news story from his past life about someone who kicked up the Star of Africa diamond while strolling through a mine.

Harvey realized he was now sitting on a massive gold mine which, if he couldn’t keep it a secret, was no different from sitting on a powder keg.

The reason the Energy-devouring beetles were attracted to the raw magic stone ore, only to be absorbed and fused with it, was fundamentally because the ore was of such high quality. The pure magical energy it contained was so rich that the moment the beetles came into contact with it, they began a process of transformation from living creatures into beetle ore.

Harvey even suspected that the dense pillars of raw magic stone ore in the cavern might have been formed by beetles clinging to and fusing with them over a great many years.

“My lord, how are we supposed to excavate and break down these ores?” Rainer asked, gazing at the towering magic stone pillars, caught in the consumer anxiety that comes with sudden wealth.

The standard method for mining magic stone veins required carefully separating the raw magic stone ore, which was fused with ordinary rock, from the rock matrix as a whole. No cracks or damage could occur, otherwise the quality of the ore would plummet instantly.

But Harvey had never heard of magic stone pillars like these, which formed purely without being embedded in rock.

Brute force excavation, smashing the pillars, was out of the question. A giant piece of raw magic stone ore of this size might even cause an energy explosion if damaged by external force. If the entire cavern collapsed as a result, the loss would far outweigh the gain.

Moreover, even if Harvey could harvest a large quantity of high-grade raw magic stone ore now, besides using it for his own territory, he wouldn’t dare trade or sell it freely in exchange for gold pounds.

The movement of high-grade magic stones, even in small quantities, would immediately cause price fluctuations in the magic stone market. In minutes, he would be targeted by the Federation’s investigators, known as “hounds.”

With his already discriminated status as a Necromancer, coupled with the crime of mining magic stones privately, Harvey could already envision a future where the Federation’s battle mage corps would attack his territory, filling the sky with fireballs and ice blades in a terrifying scene that would scour the land.

“First, I’ll try to get the method for cutting and breaking down high-grade raw magic stone ore from that mineral appraisal master on the Forum—Mr. Frost Giant. Then we can consider a plan for mining and using these ores.”

Harvey sternly warned his two assistants, “You absolutely must not tell anyone else about this vein. We need to keep this from Egnor and Pierce for the time being. They interact with too many people in their daily routines, and it would be too easy for them to let their guard down and let the secret slip.”

Rainer and Astaren both nodded in agreement. Fortunately, they hadn’t considered bringing ordinary soldiers or other support staff on this cavern exploration. Otherwise, even if Harvey couldn’t bring himself to do it, the two of them would have probably snuck out in the middle of the night to silence them.

…

After returning to the underground laboratory, Harvey had Rainer order the engineering alchemical beasts to seal the cavern entrance. He then had a bear-type guard alchemical beast stationed directly at the entrance, and set up several automatically triggered Sentry alchemical beasts to ensure everything was foolproof.

He himself quickly returned to the study on the second floor of the castle and began rummaging through chests and cabinets, searching for a precious book he had brought to Jackdaw Town when he left the academy.

It was a book rumored to have been written by a mysterious, independent Alchemist, and it was widely considered to be filled with all sorts of wildly imaginative and fantastical inventions—a book of pure delusions.

Harvey’s close friend and startup investor from his academy days, Ash Lambert, had bought it for a few hundred gold pounds at a secret Spellcaster auction out of curiosity and the mentality of having money to burn.

After flipping through it a few times, he completely lost interest and casually gave it to Harvey.

Harvey had also briefly skimmed some of its contents and agreed that most of the concepts and ideas were indeed fantastical and completely impossible to realize in the real world.

But just now, in the underground cavern, after personally seeing those thick, complete pillars of high-grade magic stone ore…

He suddenly recalled a concept described in this book—a design idea for a higher-level teleportation array that surpassed even the continental-level teleportation array.

It was a design that could achieve two-way teleportation between spatial planes, which the author had called the planet-level planar teleportation array.

This type of planar teleportation array didn’t refer to connecting and teleporting between the real world and the Magic Net; Harvey’s own “express delivery” version of the teleportation array could already achieve that interaction.

The planar teleportation described in the book referred to travel between different planes of reality, such as teleporting humans directly to the Demon’s Land in another dimension, the legendary Hell where demons lived, or the Underworld filled with death energy.

This design had no basis or verified results; it hadn’t even reached the experimental stage. It was purely a theoretical concept.

This was because to even reach the stage of drawing the array and conducting teleportation experiments, one essential condition had to be met: the teleportation matrix had to be built directly upon a massive and structurally complete high-grade magic stone vein.

Only by drawing on the rich, pure magical energy of the magic stone vein to provide a continuous source of power could the successful operation of the teleportation array be guaranteed.

Anyone who read the theoretical concept described in this book would probably scoff at its absurdity.

But now, Harvey realized that he might actually possess the prerequisite to fulfill this terrifying concept—a complete and massive high-grade magic stone vein.

Wasn’t it right under his ass at this very moment?

However, he had no interest in realizing such fantasies as teleporting from the human world to Hell and the Underworld.

Leaving aside whether Hell and the Underworld even existed, he wouldn’t have the guts to teleport there and serve himself up as food for those terrifying races even if they did.

Even mid-level Arcane Casters who specialized in summoning couldn’t claim to have complete control over the lesser demons and underworld spirits they summoned.

Let alone a rookie low-level caster like himself.

What truly interested him was this: if a continental-level teleportation array could be converted into an energy-gathering array like Unit Zero, Unit Two, and Unit Three, providing an endless stream of magical energy for the Forum and alchemical lifeforms…

Then, logically, couldn’t a planet-level teleportation array also be converted into an energy-gathering array with an even more abundant supply and far greater power?

If his current three energy-gathering arrays were like small thermal power plants…

Then once a Planet-level Energy-gathering Array was truly assembled, wouldn’t that mean he owned a small nuclear power plant?

Harvey felt that if he wanted to completely overcome the energy crisis caused by the rapid technological development of his territory, he would probably need a nuclear power plant to solve it.

Chapter 72: Advancement During an Experiment

Ten days later, in the empty grounds of the backyard of Harvey’s main keep, a large, newly built brick-and-mortar workshop was being roofed.

Harvey had chosen to site this workshop in his keep’s backyard mainly to facilitate the excavation of a sunken passage leading directly to the underground grottoes.

In his plan, the future construction site for the Planet-level Energy-gathering Array would be within this large workshop.

Dozens of slender-armed work-type alchemical beasts were methodically assembling the main body of the energy-gathering array’s apparatus.

These were parts Harvey had custom-ordered from the Alchemical Exploration Society, the Dragonstone Merchant Guild, and Hollowhearth City respectively, and had them sent directly to his territory using the Magic Net teleportation array through connections with a Forum member.

As for the improved array required to activate the energy-gathering array, Harvey had to inscribe it himself. With Astaren away providing support at the River Valley Outpost and Rainer shouldering the territory’s security, all the research work had to be completed by him alone.

The new workshop’s underground space was larger than his laboratory. Harvey moved all the beetle eggs and free-range larvae he was raising here to prevent them from wandering into the magic stone veins in the grottoes and being absorbed and fused.

The next step was to fully catalyze these beetle eggs and larvae to maximize the breeding scale.

Before the counter-offensive at the River Valley Outpost began, Harvey wanted to ensure that all five hundred soldiers in his territory were equipped with the new Magical Energy Guns.

As for the hundred-plus phased-out old-style charging guns, he set them aside for the newly recruited reserves to use later.

In this brand-new munitions factory, Harvey set up two assembly lines that could be operated by twenty work-type alchemical beasts simultaneously: one for assembling and producing the Magical Energy Guns, and another for manufacturing Magical Energy Bullets.

This way, once the beetle breeding scale stabilized later on, he could essentially guarantee a stable monthly production of one hundred Magical Energy Guns and at least five thousand Magical Energy Bullets.

…

“Time to start drawing the array,” Harvey said, taking a deep breath. He picked up several bottles of magical solution sent by Egnor, which he had refined from several magical materials needed for drawing arrays using the decomposition and recombination magic matrix Harvey had developed.

These were to be paired with the most important main material for drawing the array—liquid mithril.

Harvey summoned a Mage Hand, held an ethereal magic quill pen, dipped it in a little of the magical solution, and began to draw the Energy-Focusing Matrix on the base of the Planet-level Energy-gathering Array.

As the pen’s strokes bit by bit formed magical patterns of a strange beauty, specks of light dust began to float up from the semi-finished array. They started to adhere to the main body of the energy-gathering array’s apparatus, solidifying into constantly twisting, silvery-white inscriptions.

This was an enchanting ritual for alchemical items, created by the author himself, that Harvey had discovered in the book of a mysterious alchemist’s fantasies.

If Harvey possessed dual vision capable of piercing through the planes of the real world and the Magic Net at this moment, he would discover that the dense, vessel-like energy networks in the Magic Net space were extending their tendrils through the planar barrier into the real world. Each capillary-thin network was forming a strange connection with an inscription on the energy-gathering array’s main body.

This was the projected phenomenon in the Magic Net space, created by a super-array capable of teleportation across the real plane.

One-third of the way through drawing the array, Harvey felt his mental energy was about to be depleted. He forced himself to continue for a little longer, but his head was already throbbing with the slight pain of a mind being drained dry, making him dizzy, blurring his vision, and bringing out a cold sweat.

Damn it! The book never mentioned that drawing the array would consume so much mental energy. Harvey had originally thought he just needed to ensure his magical energy was plentiful, replenishing it with Charged magic stones as he drew.

He now felt caught in a predicament, unable to stop. If he stopped drawing, all his previous efforts would be for naught, and the precious magical solutions and liquid mithril he had invested would be completely wasted.

Harvey, for whom the truth that “waste is shameful” was carved into his very bones, decided to persevere a little longer, urging the increasingly unstable Mage Hand to speed up the drawing process.

More and more light dust emerged from the array, and the connection points of the array patterns began to emit faint energy fluctuations.

Harvey gritted his teeth, his face growing pale, and the arms controlling the Mage Hand began to tremble.

The mental energy stored in his sea of consciousness was completely exhausted. A severe headache and dizziness continuously assaulted Harvey’s willpower.

Suddenly, from some imperceptible place, he felt the sigil of himself in the Magic Net space vibrate slightly. The constantly shifting, protruding edges on the surface of the mutated, three-dimensional sigil suddenly expanded.

The entire polyhedral, star-like sigil instantly transformed into a sphere covered in sharp spikes.

Harvey felt a massive tide of mental energy surge into his sea of consciousness, replenishing his nearly-depleted reserves in the blink of an eye.

The ceaseless wave of mental energy from the sigil did not stop, continuing to pour into Harvey’s sea of consciousness, continuously stretching and expanding his entire conscious space.

Fragments of chaotic perceptions began to flash rapidly through Harvey’s mind.

The warm sensation of being in the womb as an infant, the novel experience of taking his first steps as a child, the scenes of diligent study at the Necromancy Academy as a youth, the confusion and helplessness of entering society as a young adult…

The memories of two lifetimes intertwined and merged, washing over his mind again and again.

When Harvey came to his senses and opened his eyes, he discovered that he had unknowingly completed the entire energy-gathering array during the strange transformation.

He closed his eyes again and began to meditate, discovering that his sigil had returned to its polyhedral star shape, its surface edges still constantly protruding and changing.

Next to the ring position of the instant-casting spell matrix within the sigil, several other empty matrix spheres had suddenly appeared, revolving around the small sphere inscribed with the three-circle spell.

“I… I’ve advanced?” Harvey stood frozen, not quite daring to believe it.

Research-type Spellcasters did indeed get opportunities for advancement after completing their study of magical knowledge and spell analysis.

But it also required extensive preparation, such as alchemical potions to replenish mental energy and Charged magic stones to restore magical energy.

But he had just been drawing an improved teleportation array. When his mental energy was depleted, it had suddenly triggered a strange change in his sigil, and he had inexplicably completed the advancement from a low-level to a mid-level caster.

Where did that immense flood of mental energy that poured into his sea of consciousness come from?

Why did I suddenly recall so many forgotten fragments of my past life, and why did they become confused and merged with the memories of my current life after transmigration?

Harvey still felt uneasy and entered the Magic Net space again to observe his positioning sigil.

“Advancing from a low-level to a mid-level Spellcaster requires constructing one’s own unique Mental Anchor. But I never even tried to construct one, so why did I advance so inexplicably?”

He tentatively used his now-abundant mental energy to touch the mutated three-dimensional sigil. There was a sudden roar in his mind, and the familiar scenery of the Magic Net space completely vanished.

Harvey found himself in a completely lightless, silent space, surrounded by a darkness as thick as ink, as if suspended in a boundless, dark universe.

He vaguely felt something behind him calling to him. A long-lost sense of familiarity guided him to turn around.

It was a sapphire-blue planet, its surface interlaced with patterns of deep green and pure white, presenting an unparalleled, strange beauty.

It floated far, far away from Harvey, seemingly forever unreachable.

A pang of sorrow struck Harvey’s heart, and he nearly shed tears.

At that moment, he finally understood. His Mental Anchor had already been formed.

It was—his home.

Chapter 73: The Five-Circle Spell

Harvey was hunched over his desk, completely absorbed in drawing the spell’s analysis matrix diagram.

This was a five-circle modified spell he had picked up for free while eavesdropping on a private academic discussion between two high-level casters on the Magic Net Forum—“Keryl’s Corrosive Domain.”

It was a five-circle spell that could be cast using either elemental energy or death energy combined with spell components.

While listening in on the two high-level casters’ conversation, Harvey had basically grasped the key techniques they described: how to draw the spell matrix, how to achieve matrix analysis, how to prepare the spell components, and so on.

Although he had just unexpectedly advanced to a mid-level caster, he didn’t have any powerful spells suitable for his rank that he could learn and master immediately. The common spells for Necromancers mostly revolved around corpses and specters, and Harvey felt it was enough to master just one of those categories.

The saying “biting off more than you can chew” was an absolute truth in the path of magic.

Therefore, Harvey’s line of thinking was clear: first, learn some powerful area-of-effect spells so that he could turn the tide of battle when his army was at a disadvantage against the vile orcs.

“Keryl’s Corrosive Domain,” this five-circle modified spell, clearly met Harvey’s requirements.

The spell components required were simple to prepare, the spell had a large area of effect—the corrosive poisonous mist it released could instantly cover an area of about one thousand square meters—and inflict numerous negative effects on enemies within it, such as poisoning, dizziness, blindness, and mental confusion.

Under these conditions, combined with the long-range precision shots from the Magical Energy Gun soldiers, the effect would be almost like target practice on a training ground.

After completing the final simulation of the spell matrix on a piece of white paper, Harvey left his desk and walked over to the potion brewing station.

After the armory in the Main Keep’s backyard was completed, the underground laboratory was converted into a proper magic laboratory.

In the vast underground space, apart from the three alchemical energy-gathering arrays standing in the center of the room, there was a long metal table next to them, on which sat three large “Magic Brain” devices.

These were what Harvey usually used to collect various pieces of magical knowledge he gleaned from the Forum.

After all, any knowledge and information on the Magic Net Forum, whether shared publicly or discussed privately, had to be relayed through the “Unit Zero” energy-gathering array, allowing Harvey to conveniently intercept and copy any content he deemed valuable.

Behind the three energy-gathering arrays were several Magic Net teleportation arrays, active around the clock. In the center of the arrays, various items like letters, scrolls, or magic artifact materials would flash into existence. A dozen or so small worker alchemical beasts surrounded the arrays, methodically sorting and transporting these magical deliveries.

Currently, Harvey’s main stream of cash flow came entirely from this magic courier service.

After all, an event like the last one, where he pretended to be a powerful being to rescue three high-level casters trapped in a spatial fissure, couldn’t happen all the time. Harvey didn’t dare to promise such protection so easily again, as he could very well end up getting himself killed.

The Forum’s membership had now grown to about twenty active users. He planned to wait a while longer before holding a bidding auction for invitation slots to harvest another wave of high-quality leeks.

Ultimately, he would cap the number of active Forum members at around thirty for the short term.

If the number exceeded this, the crowd would attract unwanted attention. Not only would the administrator Turing and the Magic Net Forum be more easily targeted by the Federation and other organizations, but even his own smurf account, “Kel’Thuzad,” disguised as a high-level Necromancer, might have its rookie nature exposed on the Forum.

Using a one-way Communication device, Harvey sent a message to Rainer, who was busy outside, telling him to return to the Main Keep’s laboratory as soon as possible to assist with the spell analysis experiment he was about to begin.

From a row of half-human-height transparent glass cabinets against the wall, he took out several enchanted crystal vials with different labels. These crystal vials were inscribed with alchemical arrays that could preserve the magical materials inside in various ways, preventing their properties from changing or their energy from dissipating.

A massive eyeball steeped in a thick, black liquid, a pale flower that, upon blooming, revealed a shape resembling a tormented human face, and a clump of dark green mold that constantly writhed in its glass vial, seeming to be a living entity…

Harvey placed these various jars and vials on the brewing station, donned a metal protective mask, and began to prepare the spell potion, looking through its crystal lenses.

Using Mage Hand to manipulate a pair of solid silver tweezers and a small spoon, he removed these strange and rare spell components from their glass containers. Harvey practically held his breath as he worked, not daring to be careless even with the protective mask on.

After all, according to the knowledge shared by members on the Forum, staring at the giant eyeball—taken from a “Mutated Soul-Devouring Beast”—for more than three seconds could cause even a Novice Spellcaster to fall into a state of soulless mental confusion.

And that vial of dark green “Corrupting Mold” was an extremely dangerous magical material. Even the slightest contact with skin would cause it to immediately use the living flesh and blood to frantically propagate its toxic mold, making the host rot and putrefy from the inside out.

Harvey would repeatedly sterilize any lab equipment that came into contact with the mold with high-temperature flames after use, which was possible because the mold’s natural growth environment made it inherently vulnerable to high temperatures and fire.

Using the Decomposition and Recombination Array drawn on the surface of the brewing station, Harvey refined and purified all these experimental materials, then mixed them together in a specific order and ratio, pouring the mixture into a small crucible engraved with complex alchemical arrays to begin brewing.

By the time Rainer rushed into the laboratory, Harvey was already waiting for him, holding three crystal test tubes filled with the spell potion.

“My lord, I remember Mr. Astaren mentioning that if one’s mental energy capacity is insufficient, recklessly trying to analyze a high-level spell beyond one’s rank can be quite dangerous…” Rainer had been learning some basic magical theory from Astaren recently, so he was no longer completely ignorant.

For someone like Harvey, who had just advanced to a mid-level caster, to immediately attempt to analyze a five-circle spell was, in the eyes of any experienced Spellcaster, a radical and risky act.

Of course, Harvey couldn’t explain to him the issue with his own Mental Anchor, which was far from ordinary.

But he knew very well that with his current mental energy strength, as long as he wasn’t courting death by trying to analyze a six-circle or higher spell, handling a five-circle spell would be no problem at all.

Moreover, he had plenty of empty spell slots in his sigil. Aside from the one occupied by the three-circle original spell, Mirror Curse, he still had a full six slots remaining.

After all, other people’s Mental Anchors in their seas of consciousness might originate from ancient, secret knowledge or the steadfast faith accumulated by a family over generations.

The broader and more profound a Spellcaster’s knowledge, and the more resolute their faith and will, the more indestructible their Mental Anchor would be.

But Harvey’s Mental Anchor… that was an entire, independent civilization.

Chapter 74: Casting Above His Level

After a few minutes of rest to calm his mind, Harvey quickly entered a meditative state and began to use his mental energy to draw the matrix pattern of a fifth-circle spell within his sigil.

The surface of the three-dimensional sigil, as brilliant as a star, continuously expanded and contracted, absorbing the mental energy Harvey was constantly pouring into it.

Harvey seemed to be observing his own Mental Anchor through the sigil from a bystander’s perspective. It was the reflection of a star suspended in an endless void.

This method of constructing a spell matrix model from an observer’s perspective was only achievable once one’s mental energy and casting level reached a certain strength. However, Harvey was able to do it ahead of time thanks to his unique Mental Anchor.

With a calmness akin to a non-living entity, Harvey directed his mental energy to resonate at the same frequency as the sigil and began to construct the matrix model within it.

The fluctuations of his mental energy caused the sigil to vibrate and change. Threads, so transparent they were almost illusory, appeared out of thin air and began to precisely combine into a three-dimensional spell model according to a strange pattern.

Drawing a spell matrix of this complexity required terrifyingly precise and stable control over one’s mental energy. The direction, angle, and coordination of every single line had to be flawless. This was a crucial test of a Spellcaster’s knowledge of magical principles and their ability to analyze magical formations. Countless low-level casters were forever stuck before the rank of mid-level caster because they could not achieve a perfect construction of the spell model.

The spell matrix for “Keryl’s Corrosive Domain” had been thoroughly analyzed by high-level casters on the Magic Net Forum. After all, a modified spell of this level was just one of many unremarkable case studies for them.

Harvey benefited from the precise explanations and analyses of these Veterans. He had also simulated the construction many times himself, and the key points like the direction of the matrix model’s lines and the spatial relationships of the energy connection points were already deeply ingrained in his mind.

As the illusory lines condensed from mental energy within the sigil gradually converged, they formed a complex yet structurally clear three-dimensional model.

Most low-level casters, when constructing a spell matrix, could only resort to slow, repeated attempts because they hadn’t fully analyzed or thoroughly grasped the key points and tricks. They relied on countless failures to gradually adjust and perfect their construction method until they finally completed the spell matrix.

This painstaking process would undoubtedly consume a massive amount of mental energy. Without the help of expensive mental energy replenishment potions, each failure would require several days of recovery before another attempt could be made.

Having freely obtained this crucial knowledge, Harvey had no such worries. After consuming only a small fraction of his vast mental energy, he had nearly completed the rough draft of the matrix model and could confirm that there were no errors in the entire process.

When the final thread of mental energy merged with an energy connection point, the entire spell matrix was complete. It suddenly began to vibrate violently, condensing at a strange frequency and frantically absorbing the stray magical energy from the Magic Net space.

At the core of the condensing and collapsing matrix model, a rapidly spinning vortex appeared, absorbing the surging Magic Net energy and releasing an extremely bright, dark green radiance.

When the radiance faded, Harvey saw a round, translucent sphere on the spell circle slot within his sigil. A tiny wisp of green mist seemed to float inside it. This was the spell matrix for “Keryl’s Corrosive Domain.”

…

Rainer accompanied Harvey, standing in a specially designated spell testing ground within the underground laboratory.

“My lord, are you really going to use these chickens, ducks, and geese to test the power of your new spell?”

Rainer had always been this a conflicted, penny-pinching sort. On one hand, he hoped his lord’s new spell would be immensely powerful, allowing him to overwhelm any enemy.

On the other hand, he was reluctant to part with the several hundred birds they had raised with such difficulty, only to be consumed in a single spell experiment. He even wondered if they could be salvaged afterward and sold at the market…

“This is a plague-type spell. Don’t even think about those chickens, ducks, and geese. Haven’t I repeatedly talked to you about food safety?”

The moment Rainer opened his mouth, Harvey could almost guess his thoughts. After all, he was the assistant who had been with him the longest and the first alchemical lifeform he had personally transformed.

Harvey held the prepared casting potion, gently unscrewed the seal on the glass test tube, and with a slight flick of his wrist, tilted it to let the potion flow out.

At the same time, he recited the incantation, mobilizing the magical energy stored in his body and forming a deep connection with his sigil.

The casting potion pouring from the test tube didn’t drip to the ground. Instead, it coalesced into a constantly writhing liquid sphere that hovered in front of Harvey.

As Harvey finished his incantation, he gently pushed the hovering liquid forward with one hand. It shot toward a large wooden cage placed in the center of the spell testing ground, exploding with a bang into an expanding cloud of dark green fog that enveloped it.

The dark green fog continued to expand, soon reaching the solid walls of the testing ground and spreading toward where Harvey and Rainer were standing.

The two had no choice but to immediately leave the testing ground and stand outside behind a transparent glass wall to observe the spell’s effects.

“My lord, the fog is so thick, we can’t see what’s happening inside at all.”

Harvey chuckled. “What’s the rush? Just wait a few more minutes.”

He had specially set up an underground ventilation tunnel in the testing ground that connected to the outside of the territory’s walls. It was equipped with a high-power exhaust system driven by magical energy, which could, to a great extent, prevent spell experiments from contaminating the laboratory and the living and working areas of his people on the surface.

Ten minutes later, Rainer pulled the ventilation lever. A powerful draft sucked away all of the now slightly dimmer fog, revealing the large, solitary wooden cage in the center of the testing ground.

Rainer thoughtfully handed Harvey a protective mask, while he himself walked directly into the testing ground. After all, alchemical lifeforms were naturally immune to toxins and plagues.

“Hiss~ How disgusting!” Rainer pretended to pinch his bare metal nose as he looked at the various poultry lying dead in the wooden cage.

They had all died in a miserable state, their feathers completely fallen off, their flesh and skin festering.

Rainer picked up a small knife and carefully dissected a large goose. He found that its internal organs had also decayed to a certain extent, and patches of spot-like mold were growing on their surfaces. As Rainer continued to prod the organs with the tip of his knife, the mold spread and multiplied at an extremely rapid rate within the dead goose’s body.

“Quick, burn all these carcasses with the flamethrower! And you, Rainer, you need to disinfect your entire body with high-temperature steam!”

Harvey strictly followed the experimental procedure, having Rainer quickly dispose of the poultry carcasses that might contain living mold.

An excellent mid-level plague spell. Not only could it effectively kill targets on the spot, but it also left behind a residue of plague mold that could multiply and continue to infect and parasitize.

Harvey could already imagine what kind of terrifying chain reaction would be triggered if he cast this spell amidst a dense crowd of enemies during a full-scale assault by the vile orcs.

As for the potential problem of friendly fire infections during battle, Harvey had already prepared a contingency plan. They would use flame-spewing alchemical instruments to incinerate and bury the vile orc corpses en masse, and his own soldiers would be issued a special magical anti-plague potion concocted by Egnor.

After all, as long as this mold wasn’t parasitizing a body from the inside, its presence on an external surface would be neutralized within a few hours, killed off by the heat from scorching sunlight or boiling water.

“Let me, the only Spellcaster in this territory, raise the curtain on this plague war!”

Chapter 75: The River Valley Seesaw Battle

“Wayne, watch the enemy on your left!”

Vaughn ejected the empty magazine, pulled a fresh one with magical bullets from his belt, and slammed it into the rifle. He then poked his head out of the trench, aimed at a vile orc charging within a hundred meters of their position, and decisively pulled the trigger.

The vile orc’s body shuddered as a massive, torn wound erupted in its abdomen. Gushing blood and shredded entrails splattered onto the ground, and its body slammed heavily to the earth.

“One hundred and thirty-eight!” Vaughn tilted his head slightly, roaring to the other soldiers lying prone on either side of him.

A few days prior, Pierce had led fifty members of the Sharpshooter Squad across the river under the cover of a dense morning fog. They had crept near a vile orc encampment on the bank, used Wolf Spider Beasts to chaotically lure the vile orcs out, and proceeded to mow down at least two hundred of them as if by a firing squad.

After that, the dozens of vile orc tribal camps spread across the opposite bank had apparently been infuriated, like a stirred-up hornet’s nest, and began to ferociously cross the river to attack them.

This was exactly the effect Pierce wanted.

Following the tactical guide My Lord Harvey had given him, he had set up two defensive lines on the riverbank, digging several deep trenches—two horizontal and four vertical.

He stationed thirty of the Sharpshooter Squad’s veteran soldiers with excellent combat records on the first defensive line. They began picking off targets at will with their Magical Energy Guns while the vile orcs were still flailing about chaotically in the river.

The river, less than a hundred meters wide, was completely dyed red with the blood of vile orcs. A great number of bodies were swiftly swept downstream by the turbulent current, while the survivors desperately dived beneath the surface to evade the gunfire.

When the vile orcs finally managed to land safely on the bank, Pierce swiftly commanded the soldiers to withdraw from the first defensive line, retreating through the vertical trenches to the second line on the higher ground.

While the soaking wet vile orcs were still struggling through the mud on the riverbank, the soldiers on the slope had already commenced with precise free-fire.

Dav raised his gun and fired a single shot, hitting a vile orc square in the chest. As he was about to turn his muzzle for continuous fire, the inscriptions on the gun’s body went dark, meaning there were no more magical bullets in the magazine well.

He resentfully lowered his muzzle, pulled a spare magazine from his hip, and began to reload, not forgetting to chat with his comrade Tommy beside him. “I’m telling you, that vile orc with the silver crown Commander Pierce picked off during the raid the other morning must have been a big shot…”

Tommy, who had also just emptied his magazine, replied to Dav while reloading, “I think so too. Why else would they be so crazy today? You noticed that guy too? That silver crown of his would be worth a fortune if we could get our hands on it…”

Vaughn, carrying his gun, was hunched over as he ran back and forth in the trench, directing the Sharpshooter Squad to engage the enemy. He happened to pass by the chatting Dav and Tommy and took the opportunity to give each of them a kick in the rear.

…

Pierce stood on the watchtower of the Forward Bastion, squinting as he gazed toward the opposite riverbank.

The enhanced vision granted by his Vampire blood allowed him to clearly see a dirty, tattered, deep-red banner raised on the other side.

It was likely the insignia of a large vile orc tribe, something like a pair of sharp, crossed fangs. Unfortunately, Pierce knew nothing of the history of these other races.

He turned his head and ordered a messenger, “Soldier, go raise our banner!”

“Yes, Commander!” the messenger responded, then turned and slid down the wooden ladder of the watchtower.

A short while later, a black banner unfurled in the wind from the tall flagpole of the Forward Bastion. In its center was a golden fortress, flanked by two crossed Magical Energy Guns. This was My Lord Harvey’s domain insignia, recently manufactured and brought by Astaren.

Along with it had come a battle plan handwritten by My Lord Harvey himself—Attempt a river crossing to launch a surprise attack, lure the vile orcs into a counterattack, and create a proactive seesaw battle. This will help to consume their effective strength, as well as serve our troop training plan…

Pierce could roughly understand Harvey’s tactical thinking and had strictly executed the plan. It seemed now that the results were indeed excellent.

Including the new batch of reinforcements Astaren had brought back to the outpost, the River Valley Outpost now had nearly three hundred and fifty soldiers available for combat. The domain had also begun a new round of recruitment, and the number of troops available for rotation would only continue to grow.

In a pitched battle with the river and the bastion as a defensive system, Pierce believed that these vile orc grunts before him were no match for the soldiers under his command.

The only thing he needed to be concerned about was when the Spellcasters that might exist within the vile orc tribes would join this seesaw battle.

Regardless, both sides were fighting on foreign ground. The vile orcs didn’t farm and relied entirely on plunder for supplies. The herds of livestock they depended on for survival had been left behind on the ice plains, unable to join the migration. Their logistics were clearly under more strain than his own.

Moreover, his side had War Beasts and alchemical camel-beasts that could traverse the mountain ridges as if they were flat ground to serve as transport.

The seesaw battle on the riverbank lasted for about a morning. The vile orcs barely managed to push to the front of the second defensive line, leaving over a hundred bodies behind before retreating in disarray to the other side of the river to make camp. It seemed they were still unwilling to give up for the time being.

Pierce was overjoyed, afraid they would leave and not return. He quickly arranged for several soldiers who could swim to circle upstream, build rafts, and wait for orders. Come nightfall, he would continue to provoke these hotheads. He absolutely could not let their tempers cool, allowing them to calm down and withdraw.

My Lord Harvey’s list of enemy-luring tactics had a good seven or eight entries, Pierce thought with some smugness. He wondered what kind of an expression the tribal chief of this migrating vile orc force would have on his face after he had used every single one of them.

They couldn’t win a fight, and they had nowhere to run. Forward meant facing the humans’ magical bullets, and behind them, the Demons were ravaging their home base…

Astaren climbed the watchtower and stood behind Pierce, watching the soldiers on the riverbank cleaning up the battlefield and collecting spoils of war. He couldn’t help but sigh with admiration, “I never would have thought that in just three or four short months, My Lord Harvey and you could turn a ragtag mob of refugees into well-trained soldiers.”

He winked at Pierce and teased, “Especially you. Half a year ago, you were just a hunter scraping out a living in the mountains, and now you’re capable of commanding five hundred soldiers who follow your orders…”

Pierce’s face reddened slightly, and he replied with some embarrassment, “That’s because My Lord Harvey and you, my mentor, were willing to trust and teach me without reservation.”

Astaren laughed heartily, clapping Pierce on the shoulder with his metal hand. His tone was full of gratification. “Before I came, My Lord Harvey told me, half-jokingly, that he wanted to see if you could still surprise him by commanding more than ten times your current forces…”

“F-five… five thousand soldiers?” Pierce’s jaw dropped, and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head in shock.

My Lord Harvey sure is ambitious…

Chapter 76: The Corpse Puppet Behemoth

Early the next morning, as the dense fog in the mountain forest had yet to disperse, the vile orc camp, which had been in an uproar all night, once again echoed with the booming of war drums and horns.

Last night, Pierce had sent several squads of soldiers floating downstream on rafts. They approached the vile orc camp on the riverbank, and from their rafts, they fired a few random shots toward the glow of the campfires before immediately retreating downstream, regardless of whether they hit their targets.

Almost every hour, a clamor would erupt in the vile orc camp, punctuated by the screams of some unlucky soul hit by a stray shot. They hadn’t had a moment of peace all night.

Sure enough, as soon as day broke, the vile orcs, driven to madness by the night’s harassment, began roaring as they once again started to cross the river to attack.

Even through the dense fog, Pierce could see their savage, furious expressions and their bloodshot eyes, a clear sign of a sleepless night.

A cool mountain breeze blew past, refreshing Pierce. He stood atop the watchtower, facing the wind, and took a deep breath of fresh air.

The morning air seemed to carry a pungent odor, unlike the usual scent of blood and decay on a battlefield. It was more like the rancid stench of long-fermented meat, mixed with the fragrance of some herbs and even a hint of grease.

A Vampire’s innate sense of smell was extremely sensitive, but the scent was so faint that Pierce couldn’t be entirely sure. He subconsciously turned to Astaren, seeking his opinion.

“Mentor, I think I smell something strange. A smell that shouldn’t be here. It’s… hard to describe.”

Astaren nodded. He was now a pure alchemical lifeform and had lost his sense of smell entirely, but having once been a Vampire, he naturally understood what Pierce was experiencing.

“Don’t doubt yourself. If you are certain the smell exists, then it does. A Vampire’s innate sense of smell will never deceive you.”

Pierce’s confidence was bolstered. He immediately ordered a messenger, “Have the soldiers pull back from the first line of defense ahead of schedule and hold the second…”

Before he could finish, a commotion erupted from the riverbank, filled with countless screams and roars.

Pierce and Astaren fixed their gazes and saw that, at some point, a monstrous creature of immense size with the head of a beast and the body of a man had surfaced from the bottom of the river.

The strange, pungent stench grew stronger…

“This is bad! Go! Have the soldiers abandon the defensive lines immediately and retreat to the Forward Bastion!” A sense of foreboding rose in Pierce’s heart, and he urged the messenger on.

…

“Captain! Captain! The Commander ordered us to abandon the line and fall back to the bastion!” The messenger sprinted all the way, leaping into the trench. He scrambled up, spat out a mouthful of mud, and roared into Vaughn’s ear.

A terrifying, beast-headed monster had crawled out of the river. It was covered in foul-smelling silt from the riverbed, its body crisscrossed with ugly suture scars. Its skin was pale and greasy, and atop its swollen, beast-like head sat a pair of crooked, bulging, red giant eyes.

Its massive body, a full five meters tall, shielded the vile orcs crossing the river and landing on the bank as it slowly advanced toward their first defensive line.

Vaughn noticed that the vile orcs on the opposite bank were starting to gather again, seemingly waiting for the behemoth to break through their defenses.

He organized three volleys of fire. Aside from killing a few vile orcs straying near the monster’s sides, all they managed to do was leave a few dozen faint, charred bullet holes on the behemoth’s body.

The creature was completely unfazed by shots from the Magical Energy Guns, no matter the angle. Even aiming for its head was useless.

Vaughn didn’t even see any blood when it was hit. What in the world was this monster?

“Retreat! We’re pulling back! Dav! Take your squad and stay with me to cover the rear.”

Everyone acknowledged the order in unison. They began an orderly retreat toward the Forward Bastion, moving through the communication trenches and organizing their respective squads to fall back in sequence.

Vaughn, leading twenty veterans from his and Dav’s Sharpshooter Squads, fell back along the trench to the second defensive line. There, they set up a firing position to buy time for their comrades to withdraw.

The behemoth advanced with heavy steps, effortlessly trampling the earthen mounds and trenches of the first defensive line. It turned its swollen, red eyeballs with extreme slowness, as if searching for targets on the battlefield.

Vaughn gripped his Magical Energy Gun tightly. Lying prone in the trench, he secretly observed the behemoth. The moment its gaze swept past his position, he cautiously poked his head out, aimed at its giant eye, and pulled the trigger.

The eye he had targeted burst with a splat, spewing a great gout of blackish-red pus. Even from several dozen meters away, Vaughn could faintly smell a thick, foul stench. He ducked back into the trench and couldn’t help but gag painfully twice.

Beside him, Dav’s eyes streamed with tears from the vile odor, and the sounds of other soldiers gagging and coughing echoed through their position.

“Ugh… Let’s fall back too, Captain. It stinks… Ugh…”

Vaughn nodded, then turned and quickly waved to the soldiers on the walls of the Forward Bastion, signaling for covering fire.

The men leaped out of the trench one by one, hunching over as they sprinted toward the Main Keep. Vaughn deliberately slowed his pace to stay at the rear, periodically glancing back to check the enemy’s distance.

Seeing the soldiers begin to flee the battlefield, the vile orcs hiding behind the behemoth could no longer contain themselves and charged past it toward them. Several bone spears whizzed past Vaughn’s body, making him break out in a cold sweat.

The soldiers on the bastion walls began to return fire, providing cover for their retreating comrades.

Vaughn suddenly heard a violent whistling sound from behind him, as if some massive object was hurtling through the air. He instinctively dove forward, and in his peripheral vision, he saw a huge black shadow fly over his head and crash into the group of soldiers running in front of him.

It was a rock, larger than a man, that the behemoth had ripped from the ground and thrown.

An unlucky soldier’s upper body was crushed beneath the rock. Blood gurgled out from the cracks. He was clearly dead.

A few more soldiers on either side were hit by the impact and fell to the ground, writhing and screaming in pain. Though terrified, the others didn’t forget to rescue their companions, quickly pulling them up from the ground and dragging them back.

Vaughn and Dav glanced at each other, then charged forward together. They picked up the most severely wounded soldier, whose legs had been completely shattered, and sprinted, leaving a trail of dripping blood behind them.

Several more huge rocks flew through the air, smashing heavily against the walls of the Forward Bastion. The damage was almost negligible; after all, the concrete walls were reinforced with stone blocks, and only a few small fragments chipped off.

Vaughn and Dav’s squads made it back into the bastion by the skin of their teeth. Two giant alchemical beasts immediately stood upright, blocking the bastion gate securely.

“Tell the soldiers not to waste any more ammunition trying to attack that behemoth,” Astaren advised Pierce. “I suspect this is a type of stitched corpse puppet created by a vile orc Spellcaster. They must have a necromantic Spellcaster among them, one who, like my lord Harvey, is skilled in using death energy…”

Pierce looked down at the seven or eight mangled bodies of his soldiers lying at the foot of the wall, his heart aching with pain. They were the first veterans he had personally recruited and trained.

They had been less than fifty paces from the safety of the bastion, yet they had met a violent end under the rock attacks of that damned corpse puppet behemoth.

In the distance, on the riverbank, several more corpse puppet behemoths of the same size emerged, slowly advancing toward the Forward Bastion under the cover of the vile orcs.

“Send a request for aid to my lord Harvey!” Pierce ordered the messenger, his eyes wide and his teeth gritted in fury.

Chapter 77: Ultra-Long-Range Strike

Harvey stared at the real-time battle report from the forward outpost, delivered via the teleportation array, his brow furrowed in silence.

“My lord, how about sending me to the front lines to reinforce Pierce and the others?” the half-elf Egnor tentatively suggested.

In the past, he had hidden his identity while traveling through Araye and several wizard kingdoms. He had even taken risks serving as a magical consultant for noble lords and Spellcaster organizations, gaining a fair bit of experience in small-scale combat.

Rainer was also eager to go. “My lord, I can go to the front lines to reinforce them too. Just issue me a few pieces of beetle ore, and I’ll find a way to stare those behemoths to death…”

Harvey shook his head with a wry smile. Astaren’s alchemical body was an auxiliary type, its power output too low to use the energy beam attacks from the beetle ore. Rainer could barely activate it, but it would inevitably overheat and shut down.

Fewer than two hundred regular soldiers now remained garrisoned in the territory, and they were already stretched thin handling internal and external patrols and maintaining order. Although they had recently recruited over three hundred reserve militiamen in an emergency, it would still take some time for them to complete basic training.

Moreover, his production of Magical Energy Guns and Magical Energy Bullets couldn’t supply a combat force of one thousand in such a short time.

Simply sending Rainer or Egnor alone to reinforce the front line was also unrealistic. The vile orcs wouldn’t have just one Spellcaster, and he couldn’t always send people responsible for important tasks in the territory to the front lines to fight.

“Rainer, reply to Pierce immediately. Ask for details about the vile orc Spellcaster who appeared on the battlefield. If they don’t know, they must find a way to get that information at once.”

Harvey paused, then continued, “We must confirm that the enemy is indeed a necromantic Spellcaster, and that those behemoths on the battlefield are indeed its undead corpse puppets…”

Rainer nodded in agreement and immediately went to write a reply to Pierce.

Harvey was doing this because he already had a preliminary support plan in mind. Although it was a bit fantastical, if it could be successfully implemented, it would become a powerful trump card for him in the future.

His plan was to lock onto the enemy’s positioning sigil within the Magic Net, after which Harvey himself would personally enter the Magic Net and use an energy beam to directly shatter the sigil, achieving an ultra-long-range kill across spatial planes.

The most difficult part of this plan was how to lock onto the target’s position through the Magic Net.

However, if the enemy was confirmed to be a non-human necromantic Spellcaster, then in Harvey’s view, the problem would be easy to solve.

Necromantic Spellcasters had a tight mental energy link with their undead creations. No one knew this better than Harvey. After all, manipulating Living Corpses or stitched corpse puppets with mental energy was a Necromancer’s specialty.

Therefore, as long as he could find a way to use the enemy’s undead creations and follow their mental links, reverse-locking onto the Spellcaster target wouldn’t be difficult.

Harvey just needed to make a simple modification to the Magic Net Forum’s communication device—the Magic Brain—retaining the positioning array and the information-transmitting inscriptions.

…

Pierce went up to the bastion’s watchtower again to observe the Corpse Puppet Behemoths below. He watched with extreme disgust as they sluggishly wandered back and forth in front of the bastion, grabbing the corpses of dead vile orcs from the ground with their massive hands and stuffing them into their mouths to chew and swallow.

Last night, he had sent a few veterans to sneak out of the bastion under the cover of darkness and retrieve the bodies of several fallen comrades who had died nearby. Although the bodies were mangled, it was still better than being chewed up and swallowed as food by these disgusting, giant monsters.

Following My lord Harvey’s instructions, Astaren had already confirmed that there was indeed one or more vile orc priests in the tribe across the river, and that they were necromantic Spellcasters.

The dozen or so Corpse Puppet Behemoths besieging them outside the Forward Bastion couldn’t have just appeared overnight. The enemy must have created them in advance and sent them here to fight, attempting to turn the tide of battle.

The siege of the Forward Bastion didn’t actually make Pierce anxious. Astaren had already set up a transportation array inside the bastion. As long as the territory’s production and supply could keep up, a steady stream of logistics supplies would be delivered safely inside.

But more and more vile orcs were gathering on the opposite bank. If the forward outpost remained under siege, and the vile orcs bypassed it to approach the weakly defended territory—that was what truly worried Pierce.

“Find a way to use a corpse as bait and get those Corpse Puppet Behemoths to swallow this.” Astaren handed over a metal sphere engraved with countless tiny inscriptions.

Pierce subconsciously took it and found that the fist-sized sphere could be twisted apart. Inside was a miniature, intricate array pattern, and a single magic stone was embedded to power it.

“This is… isn’t this My lord Harvey’s Magic Net teleportation array?” Having studied with Astaren for a long time, Pierce wasn’t completely ignorant of magical knowledge.

Astaren smiled slightly and explained, “Our lord has had another stroke of genius. He wants to carry out a silent, long-range assassination. As for how it works, we just need to wait and see the results.”

Pierce didn’t have the slightest doubt. He turned and ordered a soldier.

“Go to logistics and grab two fat pigs…”

…

In the vile orc camp across the river valley, inside a massive tent adorned with a deep red banner.

The vile orc chieftain, wearing a golden crown, gripped a goblet made from a human skull and sat on a fur-covered chair, gulping down the liquid in his cup.

“Priest, when can, smash, that damn, stone turtle shell, humans built.” The vile orc language was very similar to the Demon tongue, with short phrases and a staccato rhythm.

The aged priest wore a strange, tall crown adorned with four black bird feathers. He squinted and remained silent for a moment before slowly replying, “Why smash? Surround them, starve them.”

He looked up at the chieftain, a flicker of worry in his eyes. “Humans, don’t know why, have so many magic artifacts. Our clansmen, casualties too high.”

The chieftain slammed his goblet heavily on the armrest of his chair and roared, “That’s why, need revenge. Make your corpse monsters, attack. No more, delaying.”

The old priest stared at the chieftain, meeting his gaze for a moment until the other couldn’t withstand the pressure and slightly turned his head away.

The priests were sent by the Royal Court to assist the various large and small tribes. Although the chieftain held absolute power within his tribe, he had no way of forcing them.

“Do not forget. Our goal, not revenge. It is the human kingdoms and lands, of the south…”

Having spoken plainly, the priest rose and walked out of the tent with tottering steps.

Just as he reached the entrance, his whole body suddenly shuddered. He then began to tremble violently, his legs gave way, and he collapsed to the ground.

Guards on either side immediately rushed over and turned the old priest onto his back.

The vile orc chieftain was stunned for a moment, then also rushed forward, muttering incessantly, “Old man. You dying?”

The old priest’s eyes were bloodshot and bulging. Ghastly, bluish-red veins protruded all over the skin of his head, and he constantly made gurgling sounds, as if an invisible pair of hands were strangling him.

“Go get the witch doctor! Quick!” the chieftain roared, kicking a nearby guard. He then leaned down close to the trembling old priest.

“I’ve already sent someone to get the witch…”

Before he could finish, the old priest’s swelling head suddenly exploded with a bang, splattering the chieftain’s head and face with blood and scarlet brain matter.

Chapter 78: Reverse Plunder

Harvey stood silently in the Magic Net space, watching as the sigil before him, once flickering with dark specks of light, shattered and disintegrated under the impact of the Energy beam, finally vanishing into nothingness.

“Well now… a magical version of a tactical missile… a remote decapitation strike.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh, then withdrew his mental energy and exited the Plane of the Magic Net.

Rainer picked up a sheet of paper from the communication array. After a quick glance, he reported to Harvey in pleasant surprise, “My lord! Pierce sent a message. The Corpse Puppet Behemoths surrounding the outpost suddenly went out of control and fell apart, shattering on the spot…”

It actually worked! Harvey was thrilled, but then he recalled the many details involved in dealing with Necromancers.

“Tell Pierce and his men that a Necromancer’s stitched corpse puppets might carry plagues. Make sure the soldiers take anti-plague potions and thoroughly burn the puppet fragments with fire. They mustn’t let their guard down.”

“Understood!”

…

The soldiers at the River Valley Outpost stood on the fortress walls, saw the scene unfold, and raised their guns in a triumphant cheer.

“Mentor, my lord’s plan actually succeeded! This is… this is unbelievable. How did he use that metal sphere to kill the vile orc Spellcaster from such a distance?”

Astaren watched the vile orc camp across the river descend into chaos, shaking his head with a sigh. “I don’t know either. My lord’s research into the Magic Net space far surpasses that of an ordinary Spellcaster. Even I can’t comprehend its mysteries.”

Pierce wasn’t concerned with the answer. As far as he was concerned, the fact that Lord Harvey had personally intervened and successfully broken the siege was more than enough.

“We’ll observe for another day. If there are no signs of any other Spellcasters on their side, then it’ll be time for us to properly settle the score…”

The teleportation array delivered several hundred more Magical Energy Bullets, along with the newly assembled Wolf Spider Beast Mark II. This new model was an upgrade to the original, equipped with a magical energy-driven flamethrower that could effectively inflict flame damage on the enemy and also help incinerate their corpses.

The territory had sent a full twenty units. Combined with the thirty original models already at the outpost, Pierce now commanded a combat team of fifty alchemical beasts.

Only those who had truly fought alongside these Wolf Spider Beasts could appreciate just how useful the all-metal creatures were. Despite their terrifying and grotesque appearance, resembling giant spiders, their eight sharp legs were agile, allowing them to climb and leap across any terrain.

They also had the ability to operate at night, making them incredibly versatile as reconnaissance, patrol, and sentry units for the outpost.

Most importantly, they seemed exceptionally skilled at fighting in coordinated groups, whether with their own kind or with the ordinary soldiers they appeared to regard as comrades.

Pierce had even witnessed on occasion a Wolf Spider Beast proactively picking up a wounded soldier in its mandibles, attempting to drag them back to the fortress. There were also many instances where, during a soldier’s retreat, the Wolf Spider Beasts would charge forward to draw the enemy’s attention.

“Lord Harvey always said these alchemical beasts were living creatures with life and thought. Is this what he meant?”

The giant War Beasts were the same, though it was said they were converted from a herd of mammoths that happened to be migrating nearby, which was why their numbers were so limited.

Like Rainer and Mentor Astaren, they were living metal lifeforms.

…

The following evening, the soldiers, who had been cooped up in the fortress for three whole days, finally emerged. They crossed a metal pontoon bridge laid across the river by the giant War Beasts and, with the support of the Wolf Spider Beasts, launched an assault on the vile orcs’ main camp.

Perhaps because their main combat strength, the Spellcaster, had died unexpectedly, most of the vile orcs in the camp had already retreated further toward the valleys.

Fewer than five hundred vile orcs had been left behind, still attempting to haul away some of the heavy supplies they had plundered. As a result, they were caught red-handed by the soldiers who had crossed the river under the cover of night.

Pinned between the rapid-fire Magical Energy Guns and the flame-spewing Wolf Spider Beasts, this clearly ill-equipped vile orc supply unit quickly collapsed. They abandoned several hundred corpses in the camp as the scattered survivors fled into the dense forest.

Pierce wasn’t worried about them escaping. The Wolf Spider Beasts would follow their scent and hunt them down.

What annoyed him now was figuring out what to do with the huge, miscellaneous pile of plundered goods the vile orcs had left in their camp.

He didn’t recognize most of the items, so he could only wave his hand and order the alchemical camel-beasts to transport everything back to the Forward Bastion.

It would be best to teleport it all back to the territory in batches and let Lord Harvey identify and deal with it personally.

…

“What is all this stuff?” Harvey stared at the miscellaneous goods piled on the teleportation array, which took up nearly a third of his laboratory. He covered his forehead with a wry smile.

Rainer, however, was enthusiastically directing the work-type alchemical beasts to sort and organize the spoils of war sent back by Pierce.

“My lord, look! What kind of weapon is this?” He picked up an oddly shaped short axe, like a boomerang, and handed it to Harvey.

“Hmm… based on the carvings and design of the handle, this should be a weapon of the Demons. A throwing axe used by common soldiers…” Harvey’s knowledge of continental history was decent enough for him to roughly identify the item’s origin.

“Send them all to the iron foundry to be melted down. The Demons’ metal smelting techniques are fairly competent, so we shouldn’t waste the materials.”

Rainer continued to rummage around and found an exquisite wooden box wrapped in animal hide. “This box is even inlaid with gems! My lord, take a look…”

Harvey had no interest in ordinary gems that had no magical fluctuations. He was more focused on the deep red liquid held in neat rows of crystal vials inside the box, which pulsed with intense energy.

“This is definitely an extremely precious spellcasting material. I don’t know its purpose yet, so let’s seal it up carefully for now.”

He would have to wait for a Magic Net Forum conference to consult the high-level casters online.

The rest of the captured goods were mostly metal weapons or ornaments that the vile orcs found interesting. Harvey felt their best fate was to be sent to the furnace, melted into metal ingots, and reforged into new weapons.

But aside from that box of unknown liquid spellcasting material, there was one other thing that pleased Harvey immensely—something he believed was far more valuable than all the other spoils combined.

It was four crates packed full of dark golden metal ingots, hundreds of them in total. This was Phantomlight Copper, a unique metal mineral from the Demons.

This ore was only found in the lava mountain ranges of the Demon territories. It was sparsely distributed and had a low yield.

He had no idea how this mid-sized tribe of vile orcs, who had wandered into Raven Ridge, had managed to acquire such a valuable strategic resource of the Demons.

Moreover, they were refined ore ingots, already smelted and purified, ready to be forged directly into weapons.

Phantomlight Copper was one of the primary materials for crafting elemental-type magic artifacts, as it could greatly enhance a magic artifact’s spellcasting stability and magical energy amplification.

Because the Demons strictly controlled the circulation of this rare material, Phantomlight Copper was once so rare in the Wizard Kingdoms of the Southern Continent that it was priceless; it couldn’t be easily bought with gold pounds alone.

The few crates of Phantomlight Copper before him probably weighed two to three hundred kilograms. Harvey estimated that, based on the conventional prices among Spellcasters, it was worth at least one hundred thousand gold pounds.

The spoils of war really were the fastest way to build a fortune…

Chapter 79: The Online Auction

Kyriel Randi, the High Elf Spellcaster with the handle “Heart of the Forest,” had logged onto the Spellcaster Forum early, waiting for the online auction that was set to begin in half an hour.

Three days ago, an announcement had suddenly appeared, pinned to the top of the Forum, informing members that today’s gathering would feature an online auction and bidding for membership slots.

Normally, Forum members would occasionally conduct online trades for precious spellcasting materials or high-level magic artifacts on their own, but this format wasn’t friendly to new members. Points were already difficult to obtain, and most members looked down on ordinary currency as a means of exchange, preferring to barter for the items they needed.

Harvey, of course, was not pleased to see this happen. If everyone held onto their points and didn’t spend them, the Forum’s virtual currency would surely continue to devalue.

This would severely hinder his ability to periodically harvest his “magical leeks.”

Therefore, holding regular public trading and auction events would not only stimulate members to spend the points they had but also allow them to benefit from the Forum—a win-win situation.

In this regard, Harvey placed great importance on “user stickiness.”

…

[Hand of Elements: All praise to Administrator Turing! Good evening, everyone!]

It was the familiar opening greeting from the social butterfly, Mr. Hand of Elements. Harvey couldn’t help but smile as he stared at the crystal panel screen.

This Mr. Hand of Elements, who seemed gentle and polite and never lost his composure or snapped at anyone, was a powerful Elemental Mage who had the strength to explore spatial fissures alongside Legendary Casters.

[Spellshield: Good evening, everyone! It seems all the members participating in today’s gathering are present. I assume everyone is here for the auction and the membership bidding?]

This newcomer, Mr. Spellshield, spoke with the air of an old-fashioned government official. He was likely an official from the Federation or some other wizard kingdom organization.

But for some reason, he had been invited to the Forum. Shouldn’t he have immediately reported the Forum’s existence to his organization and then actively launched various investigations?

However, Harvey had observed his various posts and messages for a long time and found that he was only constantly seeking knowledge of spells for his own advancement. It seemed that he was, at heart, a self-serving turncoat who prioritized his own interests.

Harvey loved Forum members like this.

[Son of Flame: I wonder if Mr. Turing will be personally hosting the auction today? I can’t wait to see what wonderful items everyone has prepared…]

In the real world, some Spellcasters would privately organize auctions to trade important items or materials, but these were limited to their own trusted circle of contacts. Outsiders would never be accepted into their fold.

The world of Spellcasters was, in essence, one with strict factional and class barriers.

An auction like today’s—completely anonymous and online, with items delivered instantly via teleportation, free from the worry of being intercepted, and attended exclusively by high-level casters—was an opportunity not easily found, even in Araye, the City of a Myriad Spells.

[Administrator Turing: I will indeed be hosting today’s auction, but it will be a projection of my true self serving you all…]

A brief silence fell over the crowd. Although it had been vaguely mentioned on the Forum before by more reputable members like The Scorching Sovereign that the mysterious and powerful Mr. Turing used a projection of himself within the Plane of the Magic Net to create the miraculous online organization that was the Spellcaster Forum, hearing the administrator himself state this fact so casually still sent a shock through everyone’s hearts.

A Legendary Caster could indeed form a projection of their own sigils in the Magic Net, but no one had ever heard of a Legendary Caster’s projection being capable of creating a communication space like the Spellcaster Forum, which existed entirely within the Plane of the Magic Net and could even interact with reality through alchemical instruments.

[Administrator Turing: If there are no further questions, let us begin!]

According to the auction rules posted in the Forum announcement, members participating in the sale of items would present their wares in reverse order of when they joined the Forum, from newest to oldest.

Each item was limited to a maximum of five bids to prevent malicious price inflation. If an item unfortunately went unsold, it could still be traded privately later.

As for the currency accepted for each item, that was up to the item’s owner to decide. Bids could be made using points, universal currency, specified materials, or magic artifacts.

The first to auction was a new Forum member with the handle “Rock Titan.” Harvey vaguely remembered him interacting frequently with Mr. Frost Giant; he had likely been invited by him.

[Rock Titan: My item is a magic gemstone, the “Heart of Clarklai.” I won’t explain its specific effects in detail; those who understand its value and use will naturally know.]

Harvey frowned slightly, thinking to himself: Why do you have to be so pretentious while selling something? Just tell us what the damn thing does. Wouldn’t it be better to educate the low-level newbies?

Fortunately, a more outspoken Forum member immediately jumped in with a blunt assessment.

[Son of Flame: The “Heart of Clarklai”? Heh, just say it’s a Gorgon’s heart. Why play games? It’s a key material for an earth-based Spellcaster’s magic artifact. Who’s interested? Place your bids.]

[Rock Titan: I will only accept bids in points. The starting price is 150 points.]

Unfortunately, while this type of magic artifact material was precious, its use was very limited. In the end, “Earth’s Favored” scooped it up directly at the base price.

Following that, several other new members presented their items, including a powerful mid-level offensive magic artifact, a rare magic potion, and some magic potion ingredients that were uncommon on the Southern Continent.

Most were sold successfully, with only a few items with niche uses regrettably going unsold.

The only thing that piqued Harvey’s interest was a set of alchemical contraptions presented by “Man in the Mirror”—the “Arm of the Arcane Mentor.” Its effect was to provide amplification and stability for a Spellcaster’s magical energy input and matrix drawing during experimental research.

However, it required the user to accept having the alchemical device grafted onto their own body and constantly infusing it with magical energy to maintain its activity.

Harvey suddenly realized—wasn’t this just a stripped-down version of his own soul transfer experiment? It also possessed active properties and required magical energy to function.

If it weren’t for the shockingly high asking price of 500 points, which left the entire audience silent, Harvey might have been tempted to buy it for research. But, concerned that producing so many points at once would arouse the suspicion of other members, he had to reluctantly let it go.

“I’ll find a chance to speak with Mr. Man in the Mirror privately…” Harvey shook his head with some regret.

The Ghost Captain offered a magic potion formula called “Breath of the Naga Siren,” which aided water-based Spellcasters in parsing spell matrices and recovering mental energy. It sparked a bidding war among several Forum members, finally selling for the highest price of the night, 220 points, to the new member “Spellshield.”

With the emergence of competitive bidding, the atmosphere of the online auction gradually grew more intense. Heart of the Forest immediately followed by presenting his item—a nature-based defensive magic artifact. Its unique feature was its ability to automatically draw energy from the Magic Net to replenish its shield, making both its defense and endurance excellent.

It was ultimately won by “Shadow Knight,” a new member suspected to have been invited by The Scorching Sovereign, who sealed the deal with 200 points plus a selection of rare spellcasting materials.

The auction was nearing its end, and by order, it was finally Harvey’s turn to present his item.

[Kel’Thuzad: Everyone, you know me. This is another find from my relic explorations—an unknown liquid spellcasting material. For those interested, I can allow you to inspect the goods on the spot via teleportation array, under Mr. Turing’s witness. However, to participate in the bidding, you must also inform me of the material’s name and use, free of charge. So, that knowledge is also part of the purchase price you pay to me…]

The moment the keywords “relic explorations” appeared, the crystal screen was instantly flooded with messages. Most Forum members chose to participate in the inspection and accepted the trading rule of providing corresponding knowledge about the material.

Harvey smiled faintly and gestured to Rainer, who was waiting by his side. Rainer took one of the bottles of deep red liquid confiscated from the vile orcs, evenly divided it into eight portions in test tubes, and immediately sent them to the hands of the participating bidders.

…

A faint glimmer of light flashed, and a slender crystal test tube appeared on the Magic Net teleportation array.

“Son of Flame,” Fell Hoden, walked forward and picked it up. A casual glance was all it took for his eyes to widen.

“This… This is, Demon’s Blood?”

It was a rare spellcasting material that fire elementalists seldom used when casting high-level spells. The reason was that this legendary material, said to be drawn from the blood of demons from other dimensions, possessed the formidable negative effect of “Bloodburn.”

“Bloodburn” was essentially a self-destructive combat method where a Spellcaster overdrew their mental energy through a potion to amplify the power of their spells. The negative effect was that their mental energy would remain in a depleted and weakened state for a long time. Therefore, unless it was a life-or-death situation, the average battle mage would not dare to try using this spell-assisting material.

But Fell Hoden also knew of another, rarer use for Demon’s Blood: to perform bloodline modification on ordinary people without spellcasting talent, in conjunction with other magical materials.

This method also had significant drawbacks. A Spellcaster who underwent this modification would have their tier permanently capped at the mid-level, unable to advance further, and could only learn fire-element magic.

Fell couldn’t help but think of the handful of juniors in his family he was close to, who were unlucky enough to have no spellcasting talent. He decided he had to try and buy this material to make some plans for their future.

He hurried back to the “Magic Brain” instrument and began to reply to “Kel’Thuzad’s” message.

[Son of Flame: @Mr. Kel'Thuzad, I'm not sure how much of this material you've obtained, but I'm willing to purchase all of it at a price of 20 points per milliliter. I will also include an explanation of the material's properties and basic uses...]

Twenty points per milliliter? A single bottle could sell for two hundred points. This stuff seems quite valuable!

Harvey thought for a moment. Just as he was about to state that he didn’t need points and wanted to exchange it for other equivalent materials, a new message popped up.

[Heart of the Forest: My apologies, @Mr. Son of Flame, but I'm afraid I must also participate in this bid. I am willing to purchase it at a price of 25 points per milliliter, or exchange it for an equivalent value in gold pounds and magical materials.]

[Frost Giant: Hehe, then I’ll try my hand as well. Twenty-five points per milliliter, and I’ll include a list of magical ore materials for Mr. Kel’Thuzad to choose from freely.]

“You piece of shit! What gives you the right to bid against me!” The irascible Fell slammed his fist on the table, cursing through gritted teeth.

He immediately switched to his Forum battle mode, ready to properly mock these people who were so eagerly bidding against him, when he suddenly saw a new message appear at the very bottom of the crystal screen.

Fell froze instantly, fearfully retracting the hand that was already poised over the typing keys back into his sleeve.

[The Scorching Sovereign: If Mr. Kel’Thuzad can provide over one hundred milliliters of this material in a single transaction, I am willing to offer either a matrix model for a sixth-circle modified spell or a high-level defensive magic artifact, and you will not need to compensate me for the difference in value.]

Chapter 80: The Secret Use of Demon’s Blood

When The Scorching Sovereign placed a bid, the Forum immediately fell silent.

Neither a six-circle modified spell nor a high-level defensive magic artifact was something that could be casually offered in exchange.

Besides, everyone had long since accepted his status as a legendary-level Spellcaster. It wasn’t worth antagonizing him over a rare magical material.

Harvey fell silent for a moment, thinking. The Scorching Sovereign’s offer was indeed far better than anyone else’s, but he was more curious about why the man was willing to pay such a steep price for this material.

Could something so easily snatched from the Demons by vile orcs truly be a rare and precious material?

Or did The Scorching Sovereign know of some secret, unknown use for it?

I wonder if he’ll be willing to tell me the material’s true purpose after the deal is done…

[Kel’Thuzad: I accept Mr. Scorching Sovereign’s offer. I choose the defensive magic artifact… I apologize to the other members.]

The other members all expressed their understanding; no one voiced any complaints or dissatisfaction.

The final two members participating in the auction quickly posted their items and bids, but both the value and rarity of their offerings were rather ordinary. They were sold off smoothly after one or two bids.

The auction for the Forum membership slot, which Harvey had been eagerly anticipating, descended into an extremely fierce bidding war. After several back-and-forths, it was hammered down to “Spellshield,” who had been extremely active throughout the auction. He paid five thousand gold pounds, converted from points, in addition to three hundred milliliters of liquid mithril.

“It seems that while Mr. Spellshield is primarily focused on his own interests, he hasn’t forgotten to develop the Federation’s influence within the Forum…”

Harvey believed that such a high entry fee was likely not paid by Spellshield alone; he must have secured powerful sponsors.

Afterward, everyone sent back the inspected materials. Harvey collected it all into a single enchanted crystal vial and immediately teleported it to The Scorching Sovereign.

Before long, he received a reply to the transaction. The teleportation array hummed, and The Scorching Sovereign’s trade item arrived in an instant.

It was a silver bracelet of simple design and a parchment scroll, also affixed with a magic seal.

“This should be the defensive magic artifact and the knowledge about the material that Mr. Scorching Sovereign mentioned.”

Harvey didn’t examine the silver bracelet first. Instead, he picked up the magic scroll, used a touch of magic to gently shatter the seal, and carefully read its contents.

“Demon’s Blood, originating from lower-ranking demons from another dimension. It is generally used to assist in fire-elemental casting, possessing spell-enhancing properties. It can also be used to concoct bloodline potions to perform bloodline modification on ordinary people, turning them into fixed-tier Spellcasters…”

Reading this, Harvey’s heart skipped a beat. This stuff really was a rare spellcasting material—blood taken from an extra-dimensional demon. How on earth did it fall into the hands of vile orcs?

The ability to perform bloodline modification on ordinary people without any spellcasting talent was probably enough to make it priceless in the human kingdoms. It was a pity The Scorching Sovereign wouldn’t give him the formula for free.

“…Additionally, Demon’s Blood has a more secret use: it possesses the property of Flesh Reshaping. However, this also requires a corresponding alchemical formula, and it is merely one of many rare ingredients, albeit the one needed in the largest quantity. As far as I know, it also requires Lesser Dragon’s Blood, the Essence of an Underworld Wraith, and so on…”

Flesh Reshaping? Harvey was immediately reminded of the Life Alchemy experiments that “Man in the Mirror” from the Alchemical Exploration Society was dedicated to researching.

But their objectives were clearly different. The primary research direction of Life Alchemy was to focus on the soul and de-emphasize the vessel, whereas Flesh Reshaping clearly emphasized the vessel.

It seemed that whether they were traditional Spellcasters or high-level Alchemists, although they didn’t show it openly, their private experiments were all consistently focused on how to elevate their level of existence.

Harvey’s interest in this area of research was also piqued. In any case, he had only sold one vial from an entire case of twelve bottles of Demon’s Blood. He still had more than enough to support various experiments.

“When I get the chance, I’ll have to find a way to get some experiment logs and corresponding data from The Scorching Sovereign and the Man in the Mirror for verification…”

Harvey put down the magic scroll and picked up the simple silver bracelet.

The Scorching Sovereign’s description for this bracelet, named “Silvermoon Ward,” was very simple—automatic activation, malice detection.

When the wearer was in a state of abundant magical energy, the bracelet would automatically activate a defensive shield upon sensing malice within a one-hundred-meter radius.

The bracelet provided one instance of absolute defense against elemental and arcane magic below the fifth circle, and could weaken spells of the fifth circle or higher three times. Furthermore, wearing it had no side effects.

The wearer did not need to actively infuse the bracelet with magical energy; on the night of a full moon, it could automatically draw pure magical energy from the Magic Net to recharge itself.

Harvey was very satisfied with this defensive magic artifact. He gleefully slipped it onto his left wrist, concealing it beneath the long, drooping sleeve of his mage robe.

He then took the scroll from The Scorching Sovereign back to his desk and began to meticulously record future research directions for Demon’s Blood and some of his own thoughts in his experiment log.

“Given that Demon’s Blood is a key material for Flesh Reshaping experiments, it must inherently possess properties of Life Alchemy. If combined with soul transfer experiments, could it solve the research problem that has been plaguing me—the inability to isolate soul fragments, only being able to transfer the soul as a whole…”

He had been contemplating this epic experimental challenge ever since he performed the soul transfer on Astaren.

Why would a Spellcaster’s soul, after being transferred into an alchemical body, cause the recipient to completely lose their spellcasting abilities?

The alchemical body could store and release the same magical energy as a Spellcaster. The only difference was that an alchemical lifeform couldn’t perceive the Magic Net and could only draw energy from an energy-gathering array or a Charged magic stone.

Harvey had always known that Astaren was in great pain over being unable to cast spells anymore. If there was a way to solve the problem of alchemical lifeforms being unable to become Spellcasters, he probably wouldn’t remain so melancholic all the time.

After reading the fragment of knowledge provided by The Scorching Sovereign, Harvey had a vague guess.

The key to casting spells might not be the ability to store magical energy at all. Rather, it might be the Spellcaster’s ability to mobilize their mental energy to form a deep connection with the sigils in the Magic Net, using that mental energy to guide the transformation of magical energy.

This meant that if an alchemical lifeform could be given a complete vessel for mental energy, it might perfectly solve the problem of casting spells.

Harvey recalled the alchemical body he had custom-ordered for Rainer from the “Man in the Mirror” three months ago. It should be arriving in a few days.

Unlike Astaren’s support-type body, that one was specially customized for Rainer. Harvey had named it the “Research Model.”

He would use that upgraded body to conduct this experiment when the time comes…

Chapter 81: Work-for-Relief

For a long time afterward, the vile orcs who had retreated from the river valley region made no further attempts to counterattack the Forward Bastion.

The war situation eased in an instant. Following Harvey’s rotation and training plan, Pierce began to train reserve soldiers directly at the River Valley Outpost.

Occasional, small-scale skirmishes with vile orc sentinels served as daily combat drills for the soldiers.

Astaren returned to the territory safely and resumed assisting Harvey with matters concerning the magical munitions factory. This freed up Rainer to focus his full attention on the territory’s food production and infrastructure development.

The Northern Barren Lands had officially entered the height of summer. The first crops planted in early spring had just been harvested, and the domestic poultry and livestock were entering their breeding and laying seasons in the warm weather. The entire territory was a scene of flourishing prosperity.

In just half a year, the population of Harvey’s territory had surged to nearly eight thousand people.

Most of the residents had found work that could support themselves and their families. This was entirely due to the fact that Harvey’s territory was vast, untouched, and exceptionally rich in resources.

The Farm on the plains at the foot of the mountains alone provided jobs for more than two thousand five hundred civilians skilled in farming and animal husbandry.

The iron foundry, a new cement works, and a food processing plant provided another thousand or so jobs, though the technical requirements were slightly higher, needing simple training starting from the apprentice level.

Not long ago, a new iron-rich mining area was discovered in the mountains southwest of the Farm. Harvey immediately ordered a full set of mining equipment from the Dragonstone Merchant Guild, assigned work-type alchemical beasts suitable for mineral extraction, and created over five hundred new jobs.

Furthermore, due to the surge in population, Harvey had established a Municipal Administration Department for the territory. He promoted the first group of refugees he had taken in upon his arrival to be grassroots administrators, providing them with basic education while they began to manage the territory’s civil affairs.

Harvey estimated that once fully established, the Municipal Administration Department could provide about two hundred positions for educated, low-level officials, which would be enough to handle the territory’s day-to-day administrative work.

But even counting the five hundred newly recruited reserve soldiers, only about five thousand residents in the entire territory currently had formal jobs and an income.

This meant that about three thousand residents would be jobless after the current phase of housing construction was completed. If food and shelter were not provided for free, it would inevitably lead to a degree of chaos, severely affecting the territory’s stability.

…

“Of the three thousand civilians involved in the construction projects, we can recruit about five hundred more as reserve soldiers, but no more than that. Our munitions factory can only support an army of one thousand five hundred…” Rainer analyzed aloud to Harvey, flipping through his work log.

Harvey scratched his head in frustration. “That still leaves two thousand five hundred people unemployed. It’s not that we can’t support them for a short time, but it will inevitably cause discontent among the other residents who work to support themselves.”

The sentiment that “the issue isn’t scarcity, but inequality” was a universal mindset in any era.

“Once the territory’s mining area has a stable output of iron ore, I want to build an ironworks that can accommodate one thousand workers.” Harvey spread out the simple territory plan that Rainer had hand-drawn and pointed to a wide, empty piece of land along the river between the mining area and the Farm.

For a long time, the territory’s iron foundry had been using finished iron ingots that Harvey purchased from outside merchant guilds out of his own pocket to manufacture tools and weapons. The transportation and smelting costs were very high.

Moreover, with the mass production of alchemical beasts, the demand for metal parts and cast iron materials was increasing. It was no longer realistic to rely solely on imported iron ingots to meet the needs of munitions production.

Rainer meticulously recorded Harvey’s idea in his logbook.

“As for the remaining residents with no jobs, I have a placement plan for them as well…” Harvey took a thick charcoal pencil and lightly drew a huge oval on the territory map.

The circle was centered on the lord’s castle. It encompassed the mining area, the planned ironworks, the iron foundry, and the cement works along the river to the east; the riverside Residential Area, Market District, Municipal Administration Center, and the Territory’s Infirmary to the southeast; the Farm, pasture area, food processing plant, and storage area to the south; the magical munitions factory and alchemy workshop to the west; and finally, the Barracks to the north.

Rainer leaned in, staring at the circle Harvey had casually drawn, and asked, confused, “My lord, what is this?”

Harvey smiled, explaining with complete confidence, “A wall. This is the territory’s wall.”

Rainer gasped in astonishment. “Build such a long wall? To enclose the entire territory?”

He carefully took out a long, thin metal ruler from the familiar small leather pouch at his waist. After measuring the distance Harvey had marked out, he hesitated before saying, “My lord, this wall… it would have to be nearly ten kilometers long…”

Harvey smiled and asked in return, “Then how long do you think it would take for one thousand five hundred residents, assisted by worker alchemical beasts, to complete this grand construction project?”

The inscriptions on Rainer’s head suddenly lit up completely, clearly performing high-speed calculations.

“Hmm… If the cement works and the quarry can keep up with material supplies, I estimate it would take at least four to five months to complete. And that’s assuming we don’t encounter any unforeseen circumstances like vile orc attacks…”

He paused, then added, “And construction will have to stop once winter arrives. You know how frighteningly low the temperatures get in the Northern Barren Lands.”

Harvey laughed heartily, pulled Rainer over to his desk, and handed him a thin stack of hand-drawn blueprints.

“Besides the territory wall, I also have a municipal construction plan for the winter. You can schedule it for after the wall project…”

Rainer nodded hesitantly, taking the blueprints and looking through them carefully.

“My lord… what is this… ‘Three Connections… Two Openings’ Urban Project?”

“The name says it all. The connections are water, uh… lighting, and heating. The openings are for river transport and ground roads.”

The soul fire in Rainer’s eyes flared, and he looked at Harvey expectantly. “Connecting water means digging wells, right? For lighting, can’t the citizens just light their own candles at home? And what’s ‘connecting heating’?”

Harvey gave a helpless, wry smile and proceeded to briefly explain his construction plan for the city’s ‘Three Connections’ project to Rainer.

“What? You’re saying we’re going to install lighting magic stones in every resident’s home and connect them all with energy conduits for power? The energy-gathering array will explode, won’t it?”

“Don’t worry. Have you forgotten about the Planet-level Energy-gathering Array built in the munitions factory?” Harvey drew another small circle on the territory map, tapping it with his charcoal pencil. “I’m also going to build a dedicated energy-gathering power plant right next to the munitions factory…”

Chapter 82: Flesh Reshaping Experiment

Various cybernetic parts flickered into existence on the Magic Net teleportation array in the laboratory, where they were systematically carried off and assembled by worker alchemical beasts.

“Rainer, this is your new cybernetic body.” Harvey patted Rainer’s shoulder, pointing to a brand-new, silver-white alchemical body on the suspension rack.

Rainer excitedly moved closer to inspect it. “It’s… so beautiful! This outer armor, this alloy skeleton, and… and it even has dual energy slots!”

This was a set of alchemical cybernetics that Harvey had custom-ordered three months ago from the “Man in the Mirror” of the Alchemical Exploration Society. It was a special model he had designed himself, with the other party refining the details.

There was a reason Harvey had named it the “Research-type” body. In the world of Spellcasters, the alchemical bodies made by the Esoteric Society were typically activated with a special spell and controlled by commands.

But since the bodies themselves were lifeless metal constructs, they were as stiff and unresponsive as a Necromancer’s Living Corpse, only capable of simple attack and defense maneuvers.

Most Spellcasters used alchemical bodies primarily as replacements for knightly squires to provide them with close protection.

After all, creating an alchemical body only cost materials, money, and a few weeks, while training a knight with bloodline power took over a decade.

The functions of auxiliary-type cybernetic bodies, however, were relatively more widespread. They were mostly used in magical laboratories to assist research-type Spellcasters in conducting various research experiments with a certain degree of risk.

This “Research-type” body was created by stripping away the redundant structures of a combat-type body, enhancing some functions of an auxiliary-type, and adding numerous upgradeable component slots.

Rainer, having already experienced a soul transfer once, lay on the experimental table with practiced ease. He cooperated with Harvey, and the soul transfer into the new body was completed quickly.

Just a dozen or so seconds later, a ghostly blue soul fire reignited within the eye sockets of the new body’s metal skull.

“Ugh… My lord, I feel… I feel so light.” Rainer propped himself up and tentatively touched his feet to the ground.

Harvey quickly reminded him, “Be careful. Your current shell is made of an arcane alloy. Although it’s relatively light, it’s extremely hard. You need to control your strength.”

Rainer nodded while bracing himself on the experimental table. With a moment of carelessness, his metal hands pressed two deep palm prints into the hard surface of the table.

“This… I… I’m afraid it’ll take me a few days to get used to this.” Rainer was at a loss.

“It’s fine. First, let’s test the charging power of the energy-gathering array…”

Holding an experiment logbook, Harvey rigorously had Rainer complete a series of checks on the new body.

Its magical energy capacity was five times the original. Now, even without carrying spare magic stones, Rainer could sustain at least three days of normal activity after a full charge.

Harvey had also simplified the formerly complex energy-driving inscriptions, hiding them completely within the outer armor, which made the body look much more aesthetically pleasing.

The main power supply inscription arrays were concentrated on the alloy skeleton and inside the energy core in its chest. This ensured that as long as the two Soul Cores in his chest and head weren’t destroyed simultaneously, he could be reassembled even if blown into eight pieces.

Rainer stood before a semi-reflective glass wall, curiously reaching back to feel the several connection slots along his spine. “My lord, what are these slots for?”

A sudden inspiration seemed to strike him, and he asked with a grin, “You’re not planning on giving me a pair of wings, are you?”

“Theoretically, it’s not entirely impossible. But given the power output, you’d most likely explode into a firework display from overload the moment you got airborne.”

Harvey didn’t discuss the idea much further with Rainer. After all, back in his Necromancy Academy days, he had already seriously considered the feasibility of a magical helicopter.

Of course, the result was that the frequency and power consumption of the energy output were insufficient to support such a frivolous invention. Weren’t the various flight spells of high-level casters a far superior option?

Harvey had a worker alchemical beast bring over a long metal case and place it steadily on the experimental table.

“The slots on your back are for equipping this set of cybernetic accessories.”

Harvey opened the case, revealing six metallic mechanical tentacles with a brassy sheen, neatly arranged inside.

The tip of each mechanical tentacle was fitted with a three-toed claw, just like those on the medical alchemical beasts, adding a strange and incongruous feel to the octopus-like metal appendages.

“This thing… it looks like Mr. Egnor’s magical vines…” Rainer murmured.

Harvey thought to himself: This is Doctor Octopus’s signature weapon…

“Let’s install them and give them a try. I’ll handle the calibration.” Harvey directed the alchemical beasts to help Rainer, and they completed the assembly of the six mechanical tentacles.

The tentacles, forged from a special enchanted metal, were clearly not light. Once all of them were attached to the sides of Rainer’s spine, he immediately had trouble maintaining his balance. He could only grip the suspension rack tightly, which made him look quite comical.

“My… My lord, I can’t control it at all! I can’t sense the energy conduits within its internal structure!”

Harvey suppressed a laugh and quickly took out a long metal canister from the case. When he unscrewed it, a puff of cold air escaped, clearly the effect of an Icy Magic Stone embedded within.

Using Mage Hand, he removed a strange, pure white bone from inside. Its surface shimmered faintly with the light of inscriptions—it was an entire human spinal column.

He then inserted it perfectly into the reserved spinal slot on Rainer’s back and closed the exoskeletal plating.

Rainer had great faith in Harvey, letting him perform all sorts of strange experiments and modifications that he didn’t understand, but his curiosity still compelled him to keep asking questions.

“My lord, what’s this thing now? Why does it look just like a living person’s spine?”

Harvey could only reassure him that it was definitely not some disgusting thing taken from a living person or a corpse, which was, in fact, true.

He had created it using Demon’s Blood and other rare materials through Flesh Reshaping. It was an independent spinal nervous system that possessed its own bioactivity.

This was the key to allowing Rainer to control the six mechanical tentacles on his back.

“Alright, try controlling them now.”

Rainer didn’t dare let go, afraid he would fall straight backward the moment he did. Harvey keenly observed a faint light from the energy inscriptions on his cybernetic body shining through the gaps in the outer armor, extending all the way to his back.

One of the limply hanging mechanical tentacles suddenly twitched as if electrocuted, and then the three-toed claw at its tip gently opened and closed a few times.

“Huh? I think I can feel something. They… they feel like they’ve grown out of me, like they’re a part of me.”

Rainer focused all his effort on controlling the power transmission. The six mechanical tentacles, which had been hanging lifelessly, all began to twitch. They grew more and more nimble, twisting and dancing like venomous snakes charmed by a flute.

Harvey burst out laughing and couldn’t help but applaud. “Now I should call you Doctor Rainer… hahaha.”

Rainer, both shocked and overjoyed, was in no state to respond to Harvey’s nonsensical teasing.

He let go and began to walk steadily on the ground, the six long mechanical tentacles waving nimbly behind his back.

With a mere thought, one of the tentacles immediately shot out with a whoosh to hover in front of Harvey. Its claw opened and closed, carefully straightening the crooked collar of his mage robe for him.

Rainer glanced at the metal experimental table, and two tentacles immediately shot over. One nimbly picked up Harvey’s quill pen, while the other pulled a sheet of white paper from the table and began to swiftly write his own name.

Rainer’s voice was filled with uncontrollable excitement.

“My lord, now… now I can perform experiments, record data, and assemble parts all at the same time… No! More than that! I… I feel like I can do the work of four people all by myself!”

Chapter 83: An Otherworldly Netizen from Across the Planes

After the Magic Net Forum’s online auction concluded, the forum suddenly became much more active than before, likely because most of the members who had participated had exhausted their points.

Every day, Harvey could see many new posts on the Information Exchange section of the Forum, covering everything from paid knowledge-sharing to material trades.

This further solidified his belief that controlling the number of points in the hands of forum members was beneficial for boosting user engagement and forum activity.

Even the forum’s most prestigious member, The Scorching Sovereign, had seen his points plummet to less than two hundred after several rounds of online trades and spending on new member invitation slots.

This was to say nothing of the newly joined members and the old members who had spent lavishly at the auction, many of whom were left with a pitiful single-digit point balance.

“The more they chat and interact, the more useful knowledge and information I can gather…” Harvey sat before the Magic Brain, a smile creeping onto his lips as he scrolled through its stored contents.

The war in the Evil Moon Mountain Range had suddenly become a one-sided affair due to the withdrawal of the Demons’ main forces. The joint army of the Federation and the wizard kingdom had successfully pushed the front line to the northern side of the Spine of the Continent Mountains, completely occupying the natural Mining Areas rich in high-grade magic stones.

Harvey naturally had a general idea of why the Demons had withdrawn their troops. They had likely shifted their main offensive eastward to begin a full-scale invasion of the vile orc territories in the Northern Ice Fields. What Harvey didn’t understand, however, was their reason for doing so.

After a quick scan of the day’s discussions on the forum, Harvey decided to enter the Plane of the Magic Net to properly study his mutated positioning sigil.

The sigil, which had suddenly morphed from a two-dimensional shape into a three-dimensional one, had always been a thorn in his side. Fortunately, it hadn’t caused any mishaps during either spell analysis or his advancement in rank.

But Harvey always felt that the sigil’s mutation was inextricably linked to the Mental Anchor that had appeared out of thin air, and was even more deeply connected to his identity as a Transmigrator.

Yet, whether back at the Necromancy Academy or now on the Magic Net Forum, he couldn’t find any information related to Mental Anchors. After all, concealing the location of their sigils and the anchor points of their Mental Anchors was a basic self-preservation measure that all Spellcasters took.

“Is it a unique trait of being a Transmigrator, or a planar mutation caused by my creation of the Magic Net Forum…”

Harvey repeatedly probed the interior of the sigil with his mental energy, discovering that, aside from the change in its external form, its internal structure was not particularly strange.

The two spells he had finished analyzing and constructing within the sigil—the three-circle spell “Mirror Curse” and the five-circle spell “Keryl’s Corrosive Domain”—had already filled their spell circle slots, becoming two solid, faintly glowing crystalline spheres that slowly revolved inside the sigil.

The remaining four hollow spheres represented the four more mid-level spells he could inscribe, which was the total number of instant-casting spells a mid-level caster could construct within their sigil.

Universal spells, however, did not need to occupy a spell circle slot within the sigil.

Back when he was still an apprentice at the Necromancy Academy, Harvey had already been largely demystified about the wondrous profession of a Mage. The Spellcasters of this world completely subverted the image of powerful mages he had imagined before transmigrating.

There were no dazzlingly powerful magics, nor was there an endless array of strange and exotic spells.

The total number of spells an orthodox Spellcaster could learn and master in their lifetime was absolutely finite. Even a Legendary Caster would not dare claim to be all-encompassing and omnipotent.

A Necromancer would never be able to conjure a great fireball out of thin air, and an Arcane Mage had no way of summoning an army of Living Corpses.

Battles between Spellcasters weren’t flashy affairs with combatants flying through the air and burrowing through the earth. More often than not, victory and defeat were decided in the instant the first spell was successfully cast and released.

Of course, this did not include situations like the Federation forming battle mage clusters to saturate an area with offensive spells.

Harvey observed the spell circle slots for a while, then decided to use his mental energy to enter his Mental Anchor again and explore the “home” anchor point that felt so familiar and warm to him.

Suddenly, he felt a strange fluctuation of energy flow in the Magic Net space. This fluctuation seemed to surge toward the location of his sigil like a wave of indescribable frequency.

The next second, Harvey felt as if his heart had been squeezed tight, and it throbbed violently for a few beats.

Amidst the surging wave, he heard an unfamiliar voice.

“Hello, strange positioner in the Magic Net…” The voice was extremely hoarse and deep, sounding as if many people were speaking at once. The sounds were layered and aggregated together, making it impossible to discern a gender or age.

Harvey forced himself to calm down, swiftly connecting a thread of his mental energy to the Mental Anchor within his sigil so he could defend or counter-attack at a moment’s notice.

“Who are you? How did you locate me?” Harvey responded cautiously.

“Heh heh, why would you think I was able to locate you? I am merely roaming the plane at will…” The owner of the voice seemed to be in a rather good mood. Although its tone betrayed no emotional fluctuation, its words carried no obvious hostility.

“Are you a high-level caster roaming the Magic Net?”

“Spellcaster? No, I exist within the Magic Net itself. I have seen countless numbers of those you call Spellcasters…”

The being paused, then continued in a flat tone, “May I be so bold as to request that you not try to attack me with your Mental Anchor? Heh heh, given the stability of your anchor point, you could cause me considerable harm, and I have no malicious intent…”

Harvey, of course, was not about to trust it so easily. “As long as you do not initiate an attack, I will not retaliate. I have no malicious intent either.”

“I just want to communicate with someone else. This place is far too empty and vast. It truly makes me feel lonely,” the mysterious person sighed deeply.

Harvey thought for a few seconds before taking the initiative to ask, “So, you are an… er… race that originally lives in the Plane of the Magic Net?”

He first ruled out the possibility that the being was human and began to ponder what powerful, ancient races, besides the long-extinct Mind Dragons of legend, could survive for extended periods in the Magic Net space.

“Race? Hmm, let me think. Human Spellcasters prefer to call me—a devil. A devil of the mind.”

A Mind Devil? Harvey froze in astonishment. Wasn’t that the name of a high-ranking demon from the legends?

So Mind Devils lived in the Magic Net space? Did that mean they also possessed physical bodies in the real world?

“We exist merely as a projection in the real world. We have no physical form…” the being answered softly, as if it had instantly perceived his thoughts.

“So the racial talent of a Mind Devil is thought-sensing?” Harvey forcibly reined in his chaotic thoughts, concentrating his mental energy to prevent all his ideas from being easily perceived.

For the first time, the being’s tone carried a hint of apology. “I apologize. I am not actively sensing your thoughts. It’s just that whenever someone is near, we are involuntarily forced to hear their strongest inner voices. Alas, it is both a talent and a curse…”

So it’s an automatic, passive telepathy ability, an aura-type skill at that, Harvey couldn’t help but think. That really is tragic. If one of them lived in a giant city like Araye, they’d probably be driven to a mental breakdown from all the noise.

“Hahaha! Although I don’t know where Araye is, from your description, I’m afraid I would indeed have a breakdown. That is the main reason why we choose to live in the Magic Net…”

After perceiving Harvey’s inner sarcastic comment, the being seemed to strongly approve of his empathy, and its tone grew a few shades more amicable.

Chapter 84: A Devil’s Application to Join the Group

Although this Mind Devil, who roamed the Magic Net, showed no malice, Harvey still wouldn’t choose to trust it completely.

Since it had clearly expressed its wariness of his mental energy attacks, Harvey decided to probe its intentions primarily through conversation.

“So, how should I address you? Mr. Mind Devil… sir?”

The other party seemed to be settling into a conversational state, its tone gradually becoming more animated. “Heh heh, we don’t much care for specific titles from other races, but a demon’s true name must never be known by others, as it would put us in danger… ‘Mr. Mind Devil’ is quite nice.”

Regarding the issue of a demon’s true name that the Mind Devil mentioned, Harvey had actually already learned about it by chance in the member discussions on the Magic Net Forum.

He deliberately spoke up in front of the Mind Devil, intending to test the sincerity of its desire to communicate.

“Mr. Mind Devil, since we’ve chosen to have a friendly conversation, it’s only fair that we each ask questions and then choose whether to answer.”

Harvey continued to probe, wanting to see what kind of questions this Mind Devil would ask him in order to judge its true intentions.

The Mind Devil fell silent for a moment. “Hmm… I was roaming nearby when I was attracted by the powerful fluctuations of your mental energy. Curiosity always brings a certain amount of danger, but of course, it can also bring many rewards…”

It chuckled softly and continued, “So I’m very curious, why do you, as a human Spellcaster, have such powerful mental energy fluctuations? Your Mental Anchor is so stable that I can barely touch it…”

“So that’s how it is…” Harvey did his best to focus his thoughts and mind, trying to prevent the other party from passively sensing them. “Actually, it’s not that my own mental energy is that powerful. Um… I inadvertently joined a mysterious exchange society that exists in the Magic Net space. The fluctuations you sensed actually came from this society…”

Harvey briefly described the situation of this mysterious exchange society born in the Magic Net space. In the voice of the member with the handle “Kel’Thuzad,” he explained to the Mind Devil the reasons for the society’s formation and its general current state.

“Really? Such an interesting and mysterious organization exists? It’s incredible,” the Mind Devil couldn’t help but exclaim.

“The talent and imagination of human Spellcasters are truly astonishing. You are always at the forefront of the path of magic…”

Harvey detected a hint of longing in its words. An idea sparked in his mind, and he asked tentatively, “You’re very interested in this exchange society?”

“Of course. I don’t know how long I’ve been roaming the Magic Net, but it’s been a long time since I met a human like you, willing to have a friendly conversation with me. Most either attack without mercy or flee in terror…”

Its tone shifted as it asked in a slightly teasing manner, “You seem to be quite interested in me as well. Are you thinking of inviting me to join this society?”

It had keenly sensed a part of his thoughts after all…

Harvey coughed, a little embarrassed. “I can’t deny that’s the case… But inviting a new member requires me to pay a high price, so I’m still struggling with the decision.”

At once, they both fell into silence.

“In the past, when I was summoned to the real world by human Spellcasters through sacrificial rituals, most of them craved a boon of power or wealth…” the Mind Devil couldn’t help but speak up first.

“But I imagine neither of those two things can move you.”

No! Those two things are precisely my life’s pursuits!

Harvey fiercely resisted the strong urge to retort internally, pretending to be unconcerned as he said lightly, “That’s true.”

He did indeed want to pull this demon from another dimension into his online chat group. The main reason was that it had lived in the Magic Net space for a long time and was bound to be incredibly familiar with this plane, knowing all sorts of secrets and knowledge that existed within it.

“However, if you are willing to offer some secret knowledge of the Magic Net space in exchange, I will do my best to recommend you to the founder of the exchange society.”

The Mind Devil pondered for a moment. Harvey felt the energy fluctuations before him suddenly solidify, and an illusory, twisted, deep-red humanoid figure abruptly appeared before his eyes.

“Secret knowledge? Heh heh, do you want the coordinates to dimensional rifts, the projections of ruins belonging to Spellcasters or ancient creatures, or clues to the whereabouts of Magic Spirits?”

Harvey keenly seized upon the last item it mentioned. “Magic Spirits? Are you referring to… a race that lives in the Magic Net like you? I’ve never heard of them.”

A slit resembling an eyeball suddenly split open on the twisted figure’s head, and it gave Harvey a wink that was both horrifying and comical.

“That counts as one of the valuable answers, doesn’t it? I’ll answer you after you’ve invited me into the exchange society.”

Worthy of a devil, so adept at grasping and toying with human curiosity and the thirst for knowledge!

Harvey couldn’t help but quietly complain in his mind again, and was, as expected, immediately sensed by the other party. The corner of the terrifying single eye immediately drooped, taking on a hurt and sad expression.

“No problem, I promise you.” Harvey quickly changed the subject, using his mental energy to outline the “Magic Brain’s” information transmission matrix and gently pushing it in front of the Mind Devil.

“But you must abide by the rules of the society. You must choose a handle that is uniquely yours, and for the first week after joining, you can only listen and not speak…”

The Mind Devil raised a hand to touch the matrix image that Harvey had condensed, instantly absorbing it into its body.

“Thank you very much for your kindness. You are the first human Spellcaster I have met who holds no malice or disgust for the demon race. Among your people, you must be considered an oddity, right?”

It winked its single eye again in a show of humor. “Well then, that’s all for our first meeting. I’ll see you in the exchange society…”

The twisted illusion flickered twice, and along with that strange energy fluctuation, it vanished from before Harvey’s eyes in an instant.

Harvey let out a breath of relief, immediately cutting the mental energy connection and returning to the real world.

He quickly went to the “Magic Brain” device, logged into the Magic Net Forum with his Administrator handle, and pulled up the list of member handles.

Sure enough, on the very last line, he saw a newly lit, quicksilver-colored name—“Mind Hunter.”

…

“High-ranking demons are not the same as common lesser demons. There’s even a gap in their level of existence…”

Astaren slowly explained to Harvey.

“Ancient wizards studied the creature known as the demon extensively, especially wizards of the Arcane Summoning school. However, most of them only signed summoning contracts with lesser demons, purely using the contracts to compel those creatures, which have no intelligence and only a bloodthirsty instinct for slaughter, to serve them.”

Harvey asked, surprised, “Are there no examples of contracts signed with high-ranking demons?”

Astaren let out a soft laugh and said hauntingly, “I have heard of them occasionally, but they are almost all negative examples… cautionary tales warning the world not to fall easily into the temptations and lies of devils.”

“So… that’s why demons are called evil beings that are naturally hostile to humans?” Harvey was completely puzzled. He still couldn’t figure out why the Mind Devil he encountered was able to converse with him so calmly, without throwing out any bait to tempt him.

“Not entirely…” Astaren thought for a moment. “I once read in the otherworldly travel journal of an ancient legendary Mage about what he saw and heard during his travels in Hell.”

“Among the demon race, there exists a type of aberration with observer traits. They don’t hold any particular hostility towards any intelligent life. They are more focused on observation and interaction when they make contact. Some demons will even disguise themselves as other races and integrate into their societies, living among them for hundreds of years…”

“What’s their intention?” Harvey pressed.

Astaren slowly shook his head, indicating he had no idea. He could only offer a tentative guess, “Perhaps… the very act of observing and integrating is their way of obtaining power and knowledge…”

Chapter 85: Property Breeds Perseverance

For the past few days, Maisui, a team leader at the Farm’s mill, had been so busy his feet hardly touched the ground. He left home almost every day in the thin morning mist and returned under the lingering glow of sunset.

A month ago, Wogua had been badly burned by a high-temperature alchemical beast at the mill. He was put on forced medical leave and spent his days at home recovering, receiving only a base salary.

Maisui carefully peeled several thin, pale green leaves from the severely burned skin on Wogua’s face and chest, revealing fresh, pink, healthy skin underneath.

“Whew… you’ve almost recovered. This magical leaf dressing Lord Egnor created works wonders on external injuries!”

After Egnor had saved his life on the spot, Maisui had thought Wogua was doomed to be an unlucky, disfigured bachelor for the rest of his life. He never expected that Lord Egnor would personally visit a few days later, handing him a stack of strange, fresh leaves and instructing him to apply them to Wogua’s burns.

There was one special requirement: after applying the leaves, Wogua had to spend a full six hours in the sun every day. Otherwise, the healing effect would be greatly diminished.

The Farm’s management had no choice but to place Wogua on leave. Since it was an “accidental work injury,” the territory’s Chief Administrator, Rainer, with a flourish of his pen, generously approved paid leave at base salary, which moved Wogua and Maisui deeply for some time.

“I wonder if I’ll make it back for the harvest season… It should be in the next few days, right?” Wogua whispered, trying to ignore the stinging itch from his healing wounds. “I hear the Farm is really busy during the harvest, and if you work overtime, you can get extra pay…”

Maisui scoffed. “You still have three days left in the treatment cycle Lord Egnor prescribed. Just stay put at home. Missing out on some overtime pay won’t kill you.”

He knew Wogua was saving every penny. After receiving three months’ salary, he and Maisui were renting a two-bedroom house together. Every day, Wogua would only buy some cheap bread and wheat cakes from the Public Market for his meals, reluctant to even spend money on a piece of cured meat.

The salary for working at the Farm was not considered low in the territory at all—a base salary of a full eighty gold yuan per month, plus overtime bonuses, meant they rarely took home less than a hundred.

Maisui had privately heard that a common soldier in the lord’s private army received a stipend of only one hundred and twenty a month. The only advantage they had over the farm workers was that their room and board were covered.

You could buy two whole pounds of barley bread for a single gold yuan, and two pounds of bread a day was more than enough to fill the belly of a manual laborer.

Smoked pork leg was two gold yuan a pound, and the prices for common poultry and fish like chicken, duck, goose, were also very reasonable. Treating oneself once a week was hardly a luxury.

As long as one didn’t indulge daily in the most expensive processed foods at the Public Market—like golden Fried pork cutlets, honey-cured venison, chilled wine, or smoked lamb—most people could live quite comfortably on just half their monthly salary.

“Always renting a place… it just doesn’t feel secure,” Wogua said hesitantly. “I want to get married and start a family, so… so I need to save up for some property of my own.”

Renting a two-story cottage built by the lord for commoners only cost a low ten to thirty gold yuan. The small, two-bedroom building Maisui and Wogua lived in was in the lowest rent bracket.

A few days ago, the municipal department had posted a new announcement: any resident who had been in the territory for over six months could choose to purchase a house of their own.

In this era, the desire for a house and farmland was extremely common for most people. After all, only those with property would have perseverance.

This was especially true for people like Wogua and Maisui, refugees from the barren lands who had once been displaced and whose lives had hung by a thread. To them, the idea of settling down to live and work in peace was more important than anything.

Maisui, however, didn’t feel the same urgent need to buy property as Wogua. He, too, was a lucky survivor who had crawled out of a pile of corpses. He hadn’t enjoyed the good life for very long, so when he got his salary each month, he had no intention of letting his stomach suffer.

“If you’d paid attention in night school and learned your arithmetic, wouldn’t you know how long you’d have to save to afford a house? Do you think you’re one of those commoner families with four or five working members?”

Maisui chided Wogua for his wild fantasy. He rummaged through the sideboard by the dining table, pulled out the paper and charcoal pencils provided for free by the night school, and began scribbling and drawing to give Wogua an arithmetic lesson.

“Even if you’re as frugal as can be, you can save eighty gold yuan a month at most. The houses on the announcement, even the cheapest two-story, two-bedroom ones like ours in a less desirable location, start at at least twenty-four hundred gold yuan. That means you’d have to save for nearly three full years!”

Although Wogua’s mind for math wasn’t as quick as Maisui’s, he didn’t doubt his friend’s elementary skills. He blushed crimson and stammered, unable to come up with a rebuttal.

…

After a few more days of recovery, Wogua finally returned to the Farm to work again, just in time for the start of the harvest season.

Dozens of large worker alchemical beasts roamed the golden wheat fields, their two long metal arms, fashioned from giant scythes, swinging to cut down the heavy heads of wheat before swallowing them whole.

Following steadily behind each beast was a three-person team of farm workers, who methodically filled burlap sacks with the large, plump wheat grains spewed out from the machine’s rear.

Powered by alchemical beasts, seven or eight mills worked around the clock, hulling the grains and grinding them into flour. The flour was then weighed, bagged, and hauled by pack beasts to the grain warehouse.

Rainer stood at the edge of a field, holding a work manual, and explained the next phase of the planting plan to Harvey in detail.

“The barley harvested in spring and summer is enough to serve as the territory’s food reserve for the winter. The improved wheat we’re about to sow next is projected to have an even higher yield…”

These were, after all, high-quality wheat seeds that Egnor, a nature-type Spellcaster, had improved through several rounds of enchantment. Rainer had allocated an experimental plot for a trial planting, and not only was the growth promising, but the crop also proved to be quite resistant to both cold and drought.

Harvey nodded, a satisfied smile spreading across his face as he watched the fervent scene of his people bustling about the fields.

“How is the response to the housing purchase announcement the municipal department posted a while back?”

Rainer put away the Farm’s work log and skillfully pulled another notebook from his satchel, beginning his report in a serious tone.

“A total of four hundred eighty-three residents have come to inquire about purchasing a house. All of them are from families with six or more members, who have a rather urgent need to improve their living conditions.”

“However, this group accounts for less than a tenth of the territory’s current population. My lord, I don’t believe most residents can afford to buy a house in the short term.”

Harvey nodded in agreement. “Indeed. The prices I’ve set for the houses are not cheap relative to their salaries.”

“Only those with large families, where all members have steady jobs, are in a position to save enough money for a house in a short period.”

It was unrealistic to rely on this group alone to create a cycle of economic activity within the territory.

After all, the vast majority of the territory’s population consisted of what were once lonely bachelors or small families of two or three. Even the highest-earning group—the skilled workers and soldiers—couldn’t afford a house on just half a year’s income.

“Actually, I never intended for them to spend two or three years saving up to buy a house,” Harvey said, patiently explaining to a puzzled Rainer. “Releasing the information about house sales was merely to boost the confidence and morale of the common folk, to give them hope for a better future.”

“The detailed housing purchase announcement I’m having the municipal department release next is what will truly entice them to part with their salaries and savings.”

“Any resident in the territory under a work contract can purchase the house of their choice by paying a down payment of just thirty percent…”

“The remaining seventy percent of the payment will be made in monthly installments, automatically deducted from their salaries, with no interest charged whatsoever, until it is fully repaid…”

“And all the rent previously paid by the home-buying residents will be fully refunded to them, to be used as part of their down payment.”

Harvey looked at Rainer with a broad smile. “It’s called a mortgage installment plan for home purchases.”

Chapter 86: The Fallen Knight and the Tutor

After autumn arrived in the Northern Barren Lands, the temperature difference between day and night grew wider, and the weather turned colder with each passing day.

Harvey, who already needed to meditate late into the night, was now even more inclined to spend the entire morning holed up in his warm bedroom on the third floor of the castle, unwilling to get up.

Although he had not yet officially received the title of a noble lord, as the sole ruler of the frontier territory, he had every right to shirk his duties and sleep in.

This was especially true after the trial run of the newly installed hot water heating system in the castle, which only encouraged Harvey’s languid desire to never leave his bedroom and study.

By the time he finally dawdled until noon, Rainer had already returned to the castle for the third time to urge him to hear the work report.

“The batch of thick cotton cloth we rush-ordered from the Dragonstone Merchant Guild has already been made into five hundred sets of standard military uniforms at the garment factory. They were sent to the River Valley Outpost this morning.”

The River Valley Outpost was now firmly established on the territory’s front line against the vile orcs. Harvey had divided the total of one thousand territorial soldiers into three groups, rotating them on a monthly basis to both maintain morale and provide practical combat training.

He leisurely picked up a slice of soft white bread, carefully spread it evenly with the territory’s specialty wild berry jam, then popped it into his mouth and chewed with satisfaction.

“Mmm… we not only need to consider their winter heating but also their logistical support. You need to communicate with Pierce frequently. About what Pierce mentioned last time, the matter of most soldiers suffering from night blindness…”

Harvey pointed his dinner knife at his own lavishly set table. “Tell the logistics staff in charge of the soldiers’ diet to be mindful. Supply them with more animal organs, fruits, fish, and vegetables like the newly planted carrots. Make sure they are sent over promptly after harvest.”

Rainer nodded, only half-understanding, but he dutifully recorded Harvey’s requests.

“The construction of the territory’s wall is progressing very quickly. We have now essentially completed about six kilometers of the northern section…”

Rainer closed his ledger, hesitating as if he wanted to say something more.

“Are you trying to say that because of a massive project like the new city wall, the territory’s finances are in the red again?” Harvey put down his half-drunk glass of milk, seeing right through Rainer’s thoughts.

“Th-that’s right, my lord. Since last month, after paying the salaries of the working residents, there’s basically no surplus left from the territory’s taxes, housing rent, and various sales income from the Public Market. If we don’t print more paper gold yuan, by the end of this month, the residents working on the city wall will not be able to receive their wages…”

Harvey thought for a moment before asking, “What’s the feedback been like since we posted the announcement about the home loan policy?”

“The number of residents inquiring and expressing interest has surged, reaching over a thousand households. However, the number who have actually paid is less than five hundred…”

Printing paper money to circulate within the territory was indeed Harvey’s primary measure to alleviate his financial pressure. But the territory could not yet achieve one hundred percent self-sufficiency in material production. All goods that needed to be imported still required Harvey to pay out of his own pocket, purchasing them from the merchant guilds with real gold and silver coins.

After all, once he stepped outside his own little corner of the world, no one would accept the colorful pieces of paper he printed.

Relying on himself alone to fleece high-level casters on the Magic Net wasn’t enough to support five thousand residents!

Harvey sighed and said slowly, “Print another batch of gold yuan, enough to cover next month’s salaries. But no matter what, you must ensure that food prices remain stable. They can’t go up by even a single cent!”

“Also, lift the access restrictions on the Public Market. Let the residents freely trade their surplus goods. The tax rate will remain the same…”

…

Yuliao had been in the frontier territory for less than half a month, but things weren’t going smoothly for him.

Unlike most of the residents, who were originally wanderers from the barren lands, he was a probationary knight from a small duchy on the Southern Continent. He had been unfortunately captured during a battle with vile orcs last winter, had one of his arms cut off, and was then dragged back to the north by the vile orcs.

During his captivity, his sense of honor as a knight made him want to end his own life countless times to avoid further humiliation from these barbarians, but a kind old man who was also captured always stopped him.

This old man, named Kolun, had now come to live in the territory with him. They had been rescued and taken in after soldiers from the frontier territory raided a vile orc camp in the Icefield River Valley.

Now, the two of them were renting a single-story, one-room cabin.

Back home, Yuliao had been a minor landowner with fields and a farmstead. He could only say that his current living conditions were tolerable—at least it was better than being locked in a wooden cage by vile orcs, exposed to the sun and rain.

But the key problem was that he was now a cripple with only one arm, and Old Man Kolun suffered from severe sores on his feet, preventing him from standing or walking for long periods. He had to rest in bed most of the time.

The one-armed Yuliao couldn’t find any stable work suitable for him. He could only go to the iron foundry each day for odd jobs that paid by the day, helping to sort and dismantle scrapped vile orc weapons that had clearly been sent from the front lines.

This part-time job only took half a day and paid one gold yuan, which was just enough for him and the old man to buy some wheat cakes to fill their stomachs.

For the rest of the afternoon, he would wander through the bushes and woods outside the territory walls, setting traps to hunt small animals like wild rabbits and pheasants to sell at the Public Market.

Fortunately, the lord—a Spellcaster—was very generous. The rent for the house he built was extremely low, so Yuliao didn’t worry that they would end up homeless due to unemployment.

In the frontier territory, there was a common understanding: as long as you had your arms and legs and weren’t a slacker, you could always support yourself easily.

The probationary knight looked at his severed limb, cut off at the elbow, and gave a helpless, bitter smile. He supposed he barely counted as someone with “arms and legs.”

He pushed open the cabin door and saw Old Man Kolun wrapped in a worn-out woolen blanket, sitting by the fireplace and warming his feet.

“Little Yuliao, why are you back so early today?” the old man asked with a smile.

Yuliao gently placed the wheat cakes and coarse bread he had bought from the Public Market on the mud bricks atop the fireplace to warm them, and answered in a low voice, “The traps outside the walls were empty today, so I came back early…”

He didn’t want to admit the real reason. When he got off work at noon, he had seen the soldiers returning to the territory from the outpost. They marched past him in neat formations, dressed in tidy black uniforms.

Yuliao was incredibly envious of these soldiers who could fight the vile orcs at the outpost. If he weren’t disabled, he would have gone straight to the lord’s Barracks on his very first day here to recommend himself for the army.

But reality was that he could only hide this extravagant hope away, preserving the last shred of his dignity as a knight.

“Today, one of the lord’s municipal officials came to see me…” Old Man Kolun noticed Yuliao’s low spirits and started the conversation.

Yuliao looked up, stunned, and said urgently, “What did they want? I thought rent wasn’t due until the end of the month? I’ve already saved up enough…”

Old Man Kolun quickly waved his hands to calm him down. “It’s not about that. You know I can read and write. I once served as a tutor in the household of a baron.”

As he spoke, he pulled a contract document the size of a letter from his clothes, a smile on his face as he looked at Yuliao.

“They’ve invited me to be a teacher at the territory’s new public school. Uh, I’ll be responsible for teaching the children in the primary class. The monthly salary is eighty gold yuan. And if I’m also willing to teach at the adult literacy night school, there’s an additional teaching subsidy of twenty gold yuan…”

With that, he struggled to his feet and wobbled over to Yuliao, patting him on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry. Neither of us is useless. We were lucky enough to come to the frontier territory alive. We have a warm, sturdy house, hot food to fill our bellies, and a well-paying job…” He said this as he pressed the young probationary knight down into a chair.

“Don’t keep dwelling on the scars of the past. Living well and enjoying the rest of your life is what’s most important!”

Chapter 87: Taxation and Conscription

Early in the morning, Harvey was woken up by Rainer, who handed him two letters sealed with wax.

They were letters delivered by a Spell Messenger, which Harvey found a little strange.

The only person who still sent him letters via Spell Messenger was his former colleague from the academy in Araye, Ashe.

But that fellow had written to Harvey half a year ago, telling him he was about to be dispatched to the battlefront in the Evil Moon Mountain Range for a six-month tour of duty and wouldn’t be writing for a long time.

Harvey carefully examined the wax seals on the envelopes and discovered they were from the Federation and Grizzly Keep, respectively.

“Why would they suddenly think to send a letter to a Necromancer? Has something happened over there?”

Harvey, wrapped in a soft, thick robe, got out of bed, sat down at the small desk in his living room, and opened the envelopes.

The contents of the two letters were not very different. A quick glance was enough to make Harvey’s blood boil.

He had received his Pioneer’s Decree from Earl Fegan of Grizzly Keep. Since his territory was located outside the borders of St. Valen, he hadn’t paid a single coin in bribes and was only nominally under the jurisdiction of the Earl of Grizzly Keep.

But now, this Earl Fegan, whom Harvey had never even met, had suddenly had his domain’s tax collector write to him, stating unequivocally that starting from the beginning of next spring, Harvey would be required to formally pay territorial taxes to the kingdom.

“Doesn’t the royal decree promise a five-year tax exemption for pioneer territories?” Harvey angrily tossed the letter aside and picked up the one from the Federation.

The content was largely the same. The gist was that because the nations of the Southern Continent had invested vast troops and funds into the war between the two races in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, the kingdom was facing financial strain and a tax shortfall. Therefore, the previous tax exemption policy was now void, and the required amount had to be paid in full.

Harvey pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, knowing full well that the problem stemmed from the Federation’s internal factional discrimination.

Any feudal lord who was both a Spellcaster and a noble would, to some extent, receive preferential treatment and protection from the Federation.

This advantage often manifested as tax reductions. Harvey recalled that the family of Earl Fegan of Grizzly Keep had several Spellcasters who were Federation members. They had participated in garrison duties in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, so the duchy had always given Earl Fegan’s family preferential treatment regarding taxes and conscription.

Harvey was different. While he was an official member of the Federation, he was unfortunately a Necromancer—an unloved and unwanted child. He had openly suffered plenty of discrimination. Now, faced with this sudden reversal of tax policy, the Federation certainly wasn’t going to step in and solve the problem for him.

But what infuriated him was that not only would they not stand up for him, but the St. Valen branch of the Federation was even more shameless than Earl Fegan. Knowing full well that he was a research-type Spellcaster, they were demanding that he go to the Evil Moon Mountain Range in the capacity of an auxiliary mage to assist battle mages and complete a three-month tour of duty!

“How is a Necromancer like me supposed to assist a battle mage? By raising a few Living Corpses to massage his legs and wash his feet?”

The more Harvey thought about it, the angrier he became. The memory of being framed by Investigator Burke in Jackdaw Town resurfaced in his mind. That man had been sent to the Headquarters in Da’ers for investigation, but aside from a perfunctory letter of apology from the Headquarters, Harvey had not received a single piece of follow-up news.

It was most likely just a formality, ending in nothing more than a slap on the wrist.

Recalling that he hadn’t reported his advancement to mid-rank Spellcaster to the Federation to update his member information, Harvey felt a faint sense of unease.

He wasn’t afraid of the arbitrary taxation from a common noble like Earl Fegan. His fief was outside the kingdom’s borders. Even if the Earl dared to send a tax collector with soldiers to pressure him in person, Harvey wouldn’t even need to use his own soldiers. A few Wolf Spider Beasts would be enough to make them regret it.

But the Federation was different. As far as Harvey knew, besides the dozen or so Spellcasters in the Jackdaw Town branch, there were more than fifty battle mages stationed in the Duchy of St. Valen alone. And that was just their public display of power. Secretly, to suppress the influence of the Church, the Federation likely had many more battle mages with hidden identities or disguised as research-type Spellcasters.

The Federation was a behemoth that Harvey absolutely could not afford to provoke right now.

Moreover, if word of the various forbidden inventions and superweapons he was developing in his territory were to leak out, it would likely attract a full-scale investigation from the Federation immediately.

Given three to five years of quiet development, Harvey was completely confident he could build an independent power in the Northern Barren Lands capable of contending with the neighboring feudal lords and the local Federation branch.

“I need to find a way to fudge my way through this and buy myself enough time to develop…”

Whenever Fran Macaulay had free time nowadays, he liked to sneak away from his Federation office and go home to spend long hours on the Magic Net Casters Forum.

Everyone on this forum was a talent in the world of Spellcasters, and they were all so pleasant to talk to.

Even just idly chatting about interesting bits of gossip among Spellcasters, without engaging in academic discussions, was far more enjoyable than processing the mountains of paperwork back at the Federation’s administrative department.

He eagerly typed in his forum handle and had just logged onto the Magic Net Forum when he received a private message from an unfamiliar member.

[Kel’Thuzad: Excuse me, Mr. Spellshield, are you there? There is a matter I need to ask of you…]

Fran frowned in confusion. This unfamiliar member rarely seemed to post on the forum and had never interacted with him at all. However, according to the Quinn brothers, he was a freelance alchemist independent of the Alchemical Exploration Society, who was sincere and dedicated to his research.

Since his friendly identity was vouched for by the Quinn brothers, and he was one of the first Spellcasters invited to the forum, Fran couldn’t be too cold or rude.

[Spellshield: Hello, I just logged in. Please, tell me how I can help.]

The other party’s silver handle flickered several times, indicating they were typing a reply.

[Kel’Thuzad: First, please forgive my presumption. I happened to learn from Mr. Man in the Mirror that you have a cooperative relationship with a member in charge of magical affairs management within the Federation, so I was hoping you could do me a small favor…]

As Fran read the first few lines, alarm bells went off in his head. Damn those Quinn brothers! How could they be so loose-lipped and nearly expose his real identity?

Fortunately, they had only revealed that he had a cooperative relationship with the Federation, not the fact that he was an official within it. Otherwise, Fran would probably have stormed over to their place to beat the crap out of those two oafs, then promptly deleted his forum account and run for the hills.

Fran had been on the forum for some time now. Whether participating in online trades or academic exchanges, everything had gone smoothly, with no incidents of his identity being exposed.

This was proof enough that the forum’s anonymity was completely solid.

He thought for a moment before slowly beginning to type his reply.

[Spellshield: It is indeed a bit presumptuous, but understandable if the matter is urgent. First, tell me the reason you need help, and I will consider whether I am able to provide it.]

Chapter 88: It’s Good to Have Friends in High Places

“Mr. McCaulin? You’re back in the office this late? Is there some urgent matter to attend to?” The young attendant at the first-floor reception of the Department of Magical Affairs stepped forward to greet the suddenly returned Fran.

The attendant, still an apprentice, was quite bewildered. In the past, this deputy director of the department was known for being the last to arrive and the first to leave every day. Why on earth would he voluntarily come back to work overtime after hours today of all days?

Had the sun risen from the west?

Fran gave a perfunctory “Mhmm” and hurried upstairs into his private office.

Summoning a Mage Hand, he brought down stack after stack of thick paper files from the high shelves of the filing cabinet, piling them all on his office desk.

With a soft snap of his fingers, the dozens of files stacked on the desk suddenly opened on their own as if without a breeze, flipping rapidly as if by pairs of invisible hands.

This was a modified spell of Fran’s own creation, an advanced auxiliary spell for Mage Hand—“McCaulin’s Phantom Hands.”

Following the name provided by that Mr. “Kel’Thuzad,” he quickly began a search through the mountain of documents. He soon found his target in a file marked with the insignia of the Federation’s combat department.

“Harvey Floyd, research-type Spellcaster, Junior Necromancer, graduated from…” Fran’s eyes swept over the file, and he immediately spotted the problem.

“A research-type Spellcaster, and a Junior Necromancer at that. How did he end up on the support roster for the combat department?” Fran frowned, murmuring to himself.

In the past, when the fighting in the Evil Moon Mountain Range had been intense, they had indeed temporarily conscripted Spellcasters to reinforce the battlefield, but that was limited to registered battle mages or nature-type spellcasters who excelled at healing magic.

He couldn’t recall ever seeing a case of a research-type Necromancer being drafted. Moreover, judging by the roster’s ordering and the time of submission, it seemed this Mr. Floyd was an unlucky sod who had been hastily added at the very last moment before the documents were signed and confirmed.

“It seems this Mage has offended some mid-to-high-ranking member of the Federation.” With his rich experience working in official departments, Fran keenly identified the potential issue.

Judging from his resume, he came from a commoner family, not a Spellcaster or noble house. He had attended an obscure Necromancy Academy in a small duchy in the middle of the continent and had not studied under any Master renowned within the Federation.

An honest background and an unremarkable academic record meant… he could only have come into contact with a member of a local Federation branch after graduation. Perhaps he had been subjected to discrimination and unfair treatment, leading to a falling-out and this undeserved disaster.

Fran was very satisfied with his deduction. It meant he could interfere in this matter as he pleased without worrying about offending a high-ranking Federation official.

And his reasons were perfectly justifiable. He only needed to righteously point out the irregular conscription in this document, attach a comparison to past precedents, and the problem could be easily resolved.

Fran then pulled out a blank sheet of paper, fluently wrote a few short lines of official approval with a quill pen, signed his name, clipped it to the conscription document, and tossed it onto his secretary’s desk.

His secretary would find the memo first thing in the morning and should resolve this irregularity within a day.

“Just a small problem for Mr. Kel’Thuzad that I can handle with a signature. Twenty points, easy as that, hahaha!”

As for why a high-level Alchemist and Forum member would have a Junior Necromancer as a family junior, Fran had no desire to dig for the answer.

Perhaps it was the result of an illegitimate child from some romantic affair…

…

Harvey looked at the reply from “Spellshield” on the Forum, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.

He truly was a high-level manager within the Federation. He had solved Harvey’s most pressing concern so quickly and had even thoughtfully tipped him off that there might have been some procedural violations in this temporary conscription.

Mr. “Spellshield” was hinting that he might have offended someone within the Federation.

Even if Harvey didn’t think too hard, he could figure out the reason. It was surely the work of Burke’s faction, the one that discriminated against Necromancers.

“It really is easier to get things done when you have friends in high places…” Harvey leaned back in his chair, stretched, and couldn’t help but sigh.

Now that he had successfully avoided this disastrous battlefield conscription, the only remaining problem was how to deal with the capricious Earl Fegan of Grizzly Keep and haggle over the taxation of the pioneer territories.

When facing an ordinary noble, Harvey wouldn’t be so cautious. Although the other party was an esteemed Earl, he was clearly violating the kingdom’s laws first. Harvey could completely ignore him and refuse to pay the tax.

But nobles, when it came to exploiting others, had always been a fan of using force when civility failed. All Harvey needed to do now was guard against a potential attack on his territory by the Earl’s soldiers.

He immediately sent for Rainer, ordering him to dispatch half of the Wolf Spider Beasts responsible for daily patrols into the forests of Raven Ridge to provide an early warning of any hostile intent.

“And send a message to Pierce. Have him send a sharp junior officer, disguised as a servant of mine procuring supplies, to the transport post I’ve set up in Jackdaw Town. Have him keep a close watch on any movements over there…”

Watching Rainer diligently taking notes, Harvey suddenly asked with some curiosity, “Rainer, why aren’t you wearing the mechanical arms I designed for you?”

He suddenly recalled that Rainer never seemed to wear the mechanical prosthetics he had personally designed whenever he needed to go out or work in the municipal department.

Hearing Harvey’s question, Rainer awkwardly put away his pen and paper, stammering, “Uh… My lord, I really like the mechanical prosthetics you designed, but… but Egnor and the others said… they said I look like a monster with them on…”

“But I… I do wear them when I’m working in the lab and the munitions factory. They’re really useful…” Rainer seemed terrified of hurting Harvey’s feelings, desperately trying to explain and make amends.

At his words, Harvey burst out laughing as if in a moment of realization. He walked over to Rainer and patted his shoulder comfortingly.

“I’m sorry. I can’t believe I didn’t consider the aesthetics when I designed them.” He paused, suppressing his laughter. “Don’t worry too much about what others think. You know, back in ancient times, the first ancient wizards who learned to manipulate magic and cast spells were also called servants of Devils and evil monsters by the people of that era…”

He couldn’t help but picture Rainer walking through the territory with six menacing metal tentacles, scaring the residents into shivering and fleeing. The thought was still a little amusing.

Although his impression of Doctor Octopus was that of a villain, he was undeniably cool!

It’s just that they don’t know how to appreciate it…

Chapter 89: Forum Handle “Mind Hunter”

Fell Hoden logged onto the Magic Net Forum on time in the evening, only to be surprised to find a brand new member handle he had never seen before at the very bottom of the member list.

“Mind Hunter? When did this new member join? How come I haven’t heard anyone mention it.”

He still clearly remembered the heated scene at the last forum auction, where everyone eagerly bid for invitation slots.

Could this be the member invited by that Mr. “Spellshield”? No, that’s not right. A new member did join a few days ago, but they didn’t have speaking privileges and shouldn’t be able to participate in today’s conference.

Filled with doubt, Fell pressed the typing keys on his “Magic Brain” device and joined in the routine opening pleasantries of the weekly conference.

[Hand of Elements: All praise to Mr. Turing! Good evening, everyone!]

…

[Frost Giant: I heard the joint forces of the Federation and the Church have completely occupied the magic stone Mining Area in the Evil Moon Mountain Range. Is this news true?]

[Spellshield: It’s mostly true, but there are still several squads of Demon Spellcasters frequently harassing and attacking the area around the mines. It’s impossible to excavate magic stones normally…]

[Frost Giant: Haha, isn’t it because they were too eager to carve up the mining rights for that magic stone vein? The more impatient they are, the more unlucky they get…]

Watching Frost Giant’s post, Harvey couldn’t help but laugh out loud in front of his screen. The schadenfreude was so blatant; he felt it wouldn’t be long before Frost Giant’s anonymous alias was exposed.

[Heart of the Forest: The war between the two races is, in essence, just a conflict over interests…]

[Shadow Knight: The Demons have only temporarily eased their offensive. They will surely make a comeback after the winter. When that time comes, a brutal, bloody battle for the Mining Area is inevitable.]

The confident statement from this new member made Harvey wonder if he himself was currently on the battlefield in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, perhaps a high-ranking Spellcaster in the Federation or wizard kingdom’s joint army.

Everyone then chattered on about the war situation for a while.

Suddenly, a new line of text popped up on the crystal screen that was constantly displaying members’ messages, but the member’s handle was very unfamiliar.

[Mind Hunter: Everyone, I have a question. Why are the two races of humans and Demons so keen on war and slaughter? Shouldn’t short-lived species fear death more?]

The originally lively atmosphere of the discussion seemed to freeze in an instant, and a strange thought popped into the minds of all the Spellcasters participating in the conference.

This new member who asked such a bizarre question—what kind of non-human was he?

In the minds of Spellcasters, not even the Elves, with an average lifespan of over two hundred years, would so casually refer to races like humans and Demons, whose average lifespans don’t exceed one hundred years, as “short-lived species.”

This wasn’t a matter of politeness, but one of contempt stemming from a higher form of life.

Harvey immediately realized the problem with Mr. Mind Devil’s statement and was hit by an urge so awkward he wanted to pull the plug and disconnect from the network right away.

[Administrator Turing: Everyone, my apologies for not introducing him sooner. This is Mr. Mind Hunter, a recently joined member who was recommended to me directly by an anonymous member of the Forum.]

Fell Hoden froze in front of his “Magic Brain.” Someone had the authority to recommend members directly to Mr. Turing?

Was it his Master who recommended him? Unlikely. His Master had clearly only recommended Master Sean and hadn’t mentioned any extra recommendation slots.

Moreover, this “Mind Hunter” clearly spoke like a non-human. Although he didn’t know which long-lived ancient race he belonged to, to be personally approved by Mr. Turing, his status had to be at least equal to that of a Legendary Caster like his Master.

“Hmph. So the Spellcaster Forum really does have some other races mixed in.” Although Fell was hot-tempered, he wasn’t brainless. He had long had a faint sense of this Magic Net Forum’s unique nature.

It stemmed from the heavily implied words spoken by Administrator Turing himself when he had first joined.

The Spellcaster Forum upholds the principles of freedom, openness, inclusivity, and anonymity, and is not bound by any worldly rules…

After all, in the eyes of most of the initial members in the know, it was an open secret that Administrator Turing Himself was no ordinary human Spellcaster.

It wouldn’t be surprising at all if there were Elves, Burrowing Dwarves, or even enemy races like Demons or the Sea-folk in the Forum.

In that moment, Fell Hoden, the high-rank Elemental Mage, truly understood the underlying meaning of Mr. Turing’s words.

On the path of pursuing transcendent power, in the desperate hope of elevating one’s level of existence, there is no true enmity or hatred. Everyone is just an ant climbing the great tree of the world. Only fellow travelers willing to communicate and share can climb higher and farther…

…

[Mind Hunter: Was my question somewhat impolite? I don’t often interact with people. If I have caused any offense, please allow me to apologize to you all in advance…]

[The Scorching Sovereign: I appreciate Mr. Mind Hunter’s sincerity. It seems you truly don’t have much experience interacting with people, but that is of no concern. The Forum’s purpose is, as Mr. Turing proposed, inclusivity and openness.]

Harvey keenly noticed that the Legendary Caster had subtly shifted the context of the word “people” in the phrase “interacting with people” to specifically mean “humans.”

“He’s covertly signaling the other human members present about the other party’s non-human identity, while also proactively expressing acceptance and goodwill…”

Truly a legendary master well-versed in the art of language.

Since Harvey had founded and developed the Forum, several small, clandestine factions had already discreetly formed within it.

One, led by the Legendary Caster “The Scorching Sovereign,” had clear ties to the Federation. Although The Scorching Sovereign himself appeared neutral, their main representative in discussions was Mr. “Spellshield.”

The second faction, led by “Frost Giant” and “Heart of the Forest,” was a spontaneous grouping of Elves and Burrowing Dwarves. Although they were happy to participate in sharing and discussions, they privately harbored a great deal of dissatisfaction with human Spellcasters.

Mr. “Man in the Mirror,” as a high-ranking Alchemist from the Alchemical Exploration Society, maintained a relatively neutral and fair stance. Harvey knew that the Esoteric Society and the Federation actually had a close working relationship in the real world due to the war between the two races, which was likely why he had invited “Spellshield” to join the Forum.

Other, more low-key members also had their own “Star-Marked Friends” on the Forum, with whom they communicated frequently and had close relationships.

The entire Magic Net Casters Forum now presented a factional ecosystem nearly identical to the situation in the real world.

Harvey was actually happy to see this develop. After all, with competition and potential conflicts among the members, he had opportunities to extract the benefits he needed from them.

If the members were all harmonious, knew each other inside and out, and were united as a solid block, a rookie like him, hiding behind the administrator’s authority, would have been exposed long ago. He might have even suffered the grim fate of being doxxed online and dealt with in person.

Chapter 90: A Pincer Movement

After the harvest season ended, the Northern Barren Lands gradually entered a long, cold, dry season.

The spring and summer had been full of rain, but autumn and winter brought a dry, cold climate, and even the water level of the Icefield River had dropped significantly.

The plan to build a city wall, which Harvey had established in the summer, had entered a frantic construction phase. They were rushing to complete the sections facing north and east before the first snow fell in the north.

Ever since the territory’s own Mining Area had begun regular iron ore extraction, the munitions factory’s production of various alchemical beasts had entered a period of explosive growth. Hunting teams composed of unselected militiamen scoured the pristine forests around the territory daily, capturing all sorts of live beasts to provide for the soul transformation process.

“My lord, since last week, the hunting teams have reported that they can no longer find any trace of wolf packs. Have we… hunted the local wolves to extinction?”

Harvey had anticipated this possibility. He pinched the bridge of his nose and asked, “I’ve told them before to avoid hunting she-wolves and cubs as much as possible. Maintaining the wolf packs’ ability to reproduce is the only way to be sustainable… Did they just ignore me?”

Rainer explained with some difficulty, “You can’t entirely blame the hunting teams. The hunting quotas the munitions factory gave them were too high. Their search area has extended to regions a two-day round trip from the territory, and they’re still struggling to meet their targets…”

Harvey gave a helpless, bitter smile. It seemed the problem still lay with him. He had given the munitions factory production tasks this month that were beyond their capacity.

But there was no helping it; the applications for the Wolf Spider alchemical beasts were simply too broad.

The territory’s daily patrols and security were almost entirely handled by a few patrol soldiers leading large packs of Wolf Spider Beasts.

The small-scale battles with the vile orcs at the River Valley Outpost also required Wolf Spider Beasts to assist squads of soldiers in maneuvering through the mountain forests.

The territory’s hunting teams naturally needed the assistance of Wolf Spider Beasts as well; without them, they could barely move through the primeval forests, which were fraught with danger.

Some time ago, Harvey had even discovered that the ranch staff had started using Wolf Spider Beasts to herd cattle and sheep…

“We now have over five hundred Wolf Spider Beasts in service. I suggest we establish a dedicated alchemical beast maintenance center, responsible for the daily upkeep and repair of all alchemical creatures in the territory…”

Rainer was certainly more knowledgeable than Harvey in this regard; after all, he was an alchemical creature himself.

“Then we’ll set up a separate training course in the adult night school and recruit a group of skilled workers to specialize in this.”

Harvey had placed great importance on literacy education and vocational training from the very beginning. The school, built next to the municipal department, had been operating for nearly a year and now accommodated about five hundred underage children for primary education. The adult literacy school at night had also achieved an enrollment rate of over ten percent of the residents.

In this era, the literacy rate among commoners on the Southern Continent was less than one percent.

Harvey’s short-term requirements weren’t high; it was enough if the populace could basically read and understand his various decrees and announcements.

But for the administrative staff joining the territory’s municipal department, a one hundred percent literacy rate was mandatory. This was an area where he would not compromise in the slightest.

…

“Is there any new movement or news from Pierce’s River Valley Outpost?”

Harvey had been feeling a sort of habitual fatigue lately and had slacked off for several days, neglecting to read the daily reports Pierce sent from the outpost.

“The vile orcs are appearing on the north bank of the river valley more frequently than before. It seems they’re showing signs of regrouping, but their main camp is still in a valley ten kilometers from the Icefield River…”

The number of troops permanently stationed at the River Valley Outpost had stabilized at around three hundred. As the outpost commander, Pierce steadfastly implemented Harvey’s troop rotation policy for training, rotating about two hundred soldiers each month. This gave every soldier who had completed basic training a chance to participate directly in small-scale combat with the vile orcs and gain practical experience.

But right now, Harvey’s territory was facing threats from two sides. The vile orcs to the north becoming restless was a known situation.

To the south, Earl Fegan of Grizzly Keep probably wouldn’t remain quiet for much longer either. After all, Harvey had directly ignored the three temporary tax levies the Earl had sent through the Federation, not even bothering with a token reply.

Harvey had a growing feeling that a military conflict between himself and the Earl of Grizzly Keep was inevitable.

To avoid directly exposing the specifics of his territory, he had pre-emptively chosen the battlefield for this armed conflict to be in the mountain range south of Raven Ridge, intending to engage the enemy outside his domain.

Since Pierce was indispensable at the River Valley Outpost, the task of advance reconnaissance fell to Astaren. He had been spending his time in Raven Ridge with Wolf Spider Beasts and a few squads of soldiers, setting up advance warning posts and temporary camps.

“There are still too few capable people I can rely on… Everyone has to juggle multiple roles and is completely tied up.”

Remembering his own slacking off over the past few days, Harvey felt a pang of shame.

“I need to get my act together. I can’t be lazy anymore…”

“Rainer, have the munitions factory cut back a portion of this month’s production plan. Reassign a group of workers to start preparing for the alchemical beast maintenance center. I want to see results by next month at the latest.”

“Tell Egnor to increase the magic stone supply to the beetle farms. Don’t worry about inventory; a new shipment of magic stones will arrive before winter. By the end of this month, I want every soldier in the entire army to be equipped with ammunition-based Magical Energy Guns.”

The biggest problem with the army’s current weapon configuration wasn’t a shortage of the new guns, but the reserves of magic bullets.

The vast amounts of live-fire training, the high frequency of troop rotation, and the frequent small-scale battles were constantly depleting the already strained ammunition reserves.

But Harvey knew full well that an army’s combat effectiveness and experience were built entirely upon a continuous supply of bullets and logistics, so he didn’t dare to be frugal in this respect.

Aside from his source of magic stones from the Forum member “Frost Giant,” the Dragonstone Merchant Guild had also been supplying him with large quantities of low-grade magic stones recently, but Harvey still felt it wasn’t enough.

Once the new small-scale excavation alchemical beasts were assembled and in mass-production, he would begin to exploit the magic stone vein located beneath his territory’s Main Keep.

This work was currently in the secret preparatory stage. Harvey decided to first extract a small amount to be used in the munitions factory’s production of guns and ammunition to see if the quality of the first batch of magic stones was as he had predicted.

After all, when it came to applying high-grade charged magic stones to mass-produced magical energy weapons, no one but Harvey had the opportunity to try it.

“I hope what we’re sitting on is truly a magical gold mine, and not a powder keg…”

Chapter 91: Tax Collection in Name, Plunder in Truth

At the break of dawn, a long procession slowly made its way along the rugged mountain path of Raven Ridge.

The narrow path, only wide enough for two or three horses abreast, forced the dozens of men dressed as knights at the head of the column to dismount and lead their horses by foot.

From the banners held aloft by the squires behind them and the family crests on their cloaks and saddles, it was clear that this was a contingent under the command of Earl Fegan of Grizzly Keep.

The horses these knights rode were long-maned steeds, a specialty of St. Valen’s royal capital. They possessed explosive speed and were considerably larger than ordinary horses, making the trek along the steep mountain path quite difficult.

Earl Fegan’s knights looked formidable. Their new, gleaming armor was paired with fine family patterns embroidered on their capes, and they wore crimson silk sashes threaded with gold at their waists.

The Earl of Grizzly Keep had a total of two hundred such elite knights under his command. This was the elite fighting force of an earl’s family with a fief, cultivated and trained over several generations. After all, even St. Valen’s Royal Knightly Order numbered only five hundred well-trained elite knights.

Leading them was Baronet Stevie, Earl Fegan’s own nephew and a member of the Grizzly Knights.

The Baronet, showing no grace at the moment, was shouting at the straggling troops behind him, urging them to quicken their pace.

To bolster the presence of this tax-collecting party, they had roped in over two hundred mercenaries and militiamen. Outfitted with cheap leather armor and various shoddy weapons, this group had no sense of discipline. They ambled along the mountain path, talking and laughing loudly, causing the entire column to stretch out. As a result, the knights and squires at the front had to stop from time to time to wait for the rest of the group to catch up.

“Your Lordship, the Baronet,” the slightly plump tax collector, panting a little, struggled to pull on his horse’s reins and sidled up to Stevie. “According to the people from the merchant guild in town, after we cross Raven Ridge and head toward the barren lands for about a day, we should reach that Mage Harvey’s territory.”

He scratched his head and asked, “Should we rest for the night at the foot of the northern slope and meet with the lord the next morning, or…”

Stevie scoffed, “Lord? He doesn’t even have a noble title. He’s just a Junior Mage, and a Necromancer at that—the kind the Federation despises most.”

He gave a slight wave of his hand, signaling the knights and squires behind him to halt and rest for a moment while they waited for the main force. He and the tax collector walked a short distance ahead, away from the crowd.

“You don’t really think we mobilized such a large force to come to this godforsaken barren land just to collect a pioneer tax of over one thousand gold pounds, do you?” Stevie said lightly.

The tax collector was an old hand who had seen his share of things. He quickly lowered his voice. “So, my lord the Earl believed the rumor? That a gold mine was supposedly discovered in the pioneer territories of the Northern Barren Lands…”

This rumor had, for some unknown reason, started circulating quietly in Grizzly Keep six months ago. Many minor nobles without fiefs were speculating that the young Mage, who had recklessly crossed the kingdom’s mountain range to establish a pioneer territory in the Northern Barren Lands, had done so because he had stumbled upon a gold mine.

And it seemed he had indeed reaped enormous profits from it. For the better part of the following year, he had been using various large merchant guilds to transport all sorts of goods and food supplies to his territory.

This had made the Earl of Grizzly Keep rather restless, especially after hearing that the man had also recruited a large number of drifters from the barren lands to populate his territory. It was now all but confirmed that the Pioneer’s Decree he had casually signed had, perhaps unintentionally, brought the other party an immeasurable fortune.

“Recruiting drifters, making large-scale purchases, developing his territory…” Stevie sneered. “It’s one thing for others to be in the dark, but surely you can do the math, can’t you? How could a Junior Mage with no backing amass such capital in just over half a year?”

The tax collector nodded. “Indeed. However, all his procurement of goods is handled directly by the Dragonstone Merchant Guild. That’s the one of the largest merchant guilds in Oland, and they’re notoriously tight-lipped. We haven’t been able to dig up any information at all.”

“It doesn’t matter. The guild is driven by profit, too. They’ll go wherever the money is,” Stevie said nonchalantly. “Once we take over his territory, we’ll naturally uncover the secret to his rapid rise to wealth.”

“Take over his territory? Does his lordship the Earl intend to…” The tax collector was stunned. He didn’t finish his sentence, but the implication was clear. “Will the Federation just stand by and do nothing? We can’t afford to offend them.”

“The pioneer territory was invaded by a horde of vile orcs. The lord, a Spellcaster, was outnumbered and unfortunately perished along with his residents. What does that have to do with us? We’re the rescue party that received a distress call and arrived a step too late!”

Baronet Stevie shrugged, a hint of malice in his voice.

…

As the sun gradually climbed to its zenith, Stevie and his party saw the faint outline of a small fortress-like camp at the end of the winding mountain path, not very conspicuous under the cover of the dense forest.

“Your Lordship, the Baronet! There are wooden spike barricades and lookout towers ahead. We’ve also seen the territorial markers,” a squire scouting ahead reported. “There are soldiers garrisoned behind the barricade and in the towers. They’re armed and don’t seem to welcome us.”

“Looks like they got wind of our arrival in advance. They have their own eyes and ears in Grizzly Keep and Jackdaw Town,” Stevie said with a smile. “No need to get hostile right away. I’ll go up and negotiate with them first. The rest of you, wait for my signal and act when the opportunity arises.”

For this mission to take over the territory, Earl Fegan had magnanimously allowed him to bring a full thirty elite knights, including several mid-rank knights from knightly families who had awakened their bloodline power. Any one of them was strong enough to take down more than a dozen ordinary mercenaries and militiamen.

The men mounted their horses and slowly approached the small encampment barricading the mountain path. Before they could issue a challenge, several militiamen dressed only in black cotton uniforms emerged from the camp.

Seeing that the men before them lacked even the most basic leather armor and carried strange polearms on their backs that resembled fire pokers without spearheads, the mounted knights all showed expressions of utter disdain.

“This is the border of Lord Harvey’s fief. May I ask the purpose of your visit? We have not received any notice of guests arriving in the territory.”

The militiaman in the lead was a short-haired young man who looked to be less than twenty years old. His voice was clear and he wore a smile, appearing quite polite and likable.

Stevie sat high on his horse, holding the reins with one hand and lifting his chin slightly. He answered arrogantly, “We are the tax collection party, here on the orders of the lord of Grizzly Keep, Earl Fegan, to collect taxes from Mr. Harvey’s pioneer territory. Please let us pass immediately. Do not delay our journey.”

This camp appeared to be garrisoned by fewer than thirty poorly armed and armored militiamen. While attacking them directly wouldn’t be much trouble, he didn’t want to waste time at this mountain outpost and fail to reach the pioneer territory before nightfall.

The best option was to use the Earl’s authority to compel them to let him pass.

The lead militiaman still wore that pleasant smile. He cheerfully asked a squire beside Stevie for the tax decree personally signed by the Earl and carefully confirmed the seal and signature on it.

This young militiaman can actually read? Stevie frowned slightly and exchanged a look of disbelief with the tax collector.

After reading the document, the young man carefully folded it again and returned it to the squire with both hands. Only then did he look up at Stevie and smile. “Lord Harvey is already aware of the Earl’s tax decree. It’s just that the journey between our lands is long, so we haven’t had a chance to deliver the tax payment to Grizzly Keep.”

He smiled, turned, and waved his hand. Two militiamen in black uniforms carried a small wooden box forward and placed it on the ground before the knights’ horses.

“This is the tax payment our lord has already prepared. Please, my lords, count it in person. We can settle this right here.”

Chapter 92: Firing Squad (Part 1)

“This is the tax money Lord Harvey prepared in advance. Please, my lords, count it in person, and we can complete the transaction.”

The young militiaman at the head of the group bowed politely to Stevie and the tax collector, left the small chest filled with gold pounds on the ground, and prepared to turn back to the camp.

The tax collector was so taken aback by this sudden turn of events that he couldn’t help but let out a series of coughs, looking at Stevie in a slight panic.

“Baron, what… what should we do?” The adjutant approached Stevie’s horse, asking in a low, urgent whisper.

They had assumed the other party would flatly reject this unreasonable tax order and were planning to use that as the primary pretext for their attack. Who would have thought that before they even entered the pioneer territory to meet its lord, the other party would have the tax money ready and waiting at the border.

Stevie’s face flushed a deep red. He gritted his teeth and thought for a moment, then immediately shouted at the lead militiaman returning to the camp.

“Halt!” At the same time, he looked back at the company of knights behind him and gave them a subtle nod.

With a sharp shing, the knights immediately drew their shining swords from their waists.

The young militiaman, who had already reached the camp’s barricades, turned around and looked in surprise at the mounted knights who had drawn their swords. “My lords, the tax has been paid in full. What is the meaning of this?”

At this point, Stevie could no longer be bothered with empty noble decorum. He roared, “I demand an audience with Lord Harvey! Let us pass immediately, or else…”

The young militiaman’s face immediately turned cold. He responded indifferently, “The pioneer territory is located outside the duchy’s borders. The Earl only has the right to tax, not the right to govern. Are you unaware of the duchy’s laws, sir?”

Stevie sneered, dropping all pretenses. “Hmph, the Earl has received a secret report that the Necromancer Harvey is conducting bloody magical experiments in the pioneer territory and harming innocent civilians. We are here under orders to eliminate you!”

He swung his sword hand forward, and all the knights immediately dismounted. Swords in hand, they advanced on the camp gate.

The narrow mountain path was ill-suited for a cavalry charge, so they had to dismount and fight on foot. Still, against a few dozen lowly militiamen who lacked even proper armor or blades, it would probably take them half an hour at most to finish them all.

The militiaman who had been speaking with them paled and immediately dashed back into the camp, ducking for cover behind the sandbag barricades.

“A ragtag mob, as expected. They don’t even have the guts to resist, just cowering behind sandbags waiting to die.”

One of Stevie’s personal guards burst out laughing. Taking the lead, he charged forward, swung his longsword, and leaped into the air, about to jump over the first barricade to attack the militiamen hiding behind it.

About four or five steps away from him, behind a sandbag pile, a militiaman in black suddenly stood up, leveled the strange fire poker from his back, and aimed it at him.

Baron Stevie and the others, watching from the rear, only saw the ‘poker’ seem to flash with a white light. As the light vanished, his personal guard, who had been charging at the front, suddenly shuddered and pitched forward onto the sandbags, motionless.

…

Tommy hid behind the sandbag cover, raised his rifle, and aimed at the tall, fully armored knights who were only a few dozen steps away. He slowly let out a breath and, without hesitation, pulled the trigger.

Another knight at the front of the charge suddenly had a thumb-sized hole appear in the center of his chest plate. An instant later, blood gushed out. The knight’s momentum carried him a few more steps forward before he collapsed to the ground with a thud, silent.

Tommy turned his head and ordered the other soldiers, “Wait until they’re closer before you fire. The accuracy will be higher. Waste fewer bullets, or Captain Vaughn will be heartbroken over the cost.”

Though he spoke with confidence, Tommy’s palms were slick with sweat. This was different from facing the monstrous vile orcs at the River Valley Outpost. This time, they were facing their own kind—humans. This was the first time he had ever killed a person.

No! He abruptly bit down hard and spat on the ground, furious at his sudden wave of compassion.

When had the nobility ever considered lowly refugees to be their own kind? Back then, they had fled over thousands of miles, arduously crossing the Spine of the Continent Mountains to reach the south, seeking protection and shelter from the local nobles.

But what awaited them was merciless expulsion and slaughter by the troops patrolling the border.

The noble lords feared they would bring plague and disease to their lands, and they were unwilling to waste a single grain of rice to help them.

Tommy thought with self-mockery that these men had come to plunder Lord Harvey’s territory, to steal the wealth and food the people of the territory had accumulated through hard work, and to return them to a miserable life of precariousness and displacement.

His two-story house, the delicious fried chicken at the Public Market, the crisp new winter and summer uniforms, the generous monthly stipend of 120 gold yuan, and… and Diane, the young woman next door who looked at him with admiration every time she saw him…

All these wonderful people and things that now belonged to him would vanish into thin air…

This was something no soldier of the pioneer territory could ever accept!

Tommy secretly wiped the sweat from his palms on the hem of his clothes. Right now, his mind was filled with only one thing: Lord Harvey’s direct order.

Any enemy who dares to invade the territory must be met with an immediate and decisive counterattack!

“All soldiers, fire at will!”

Another tall knight broke from the pack and lunged toward the nearest territorial soldiers. Tommy decisively raised his rifle to take aim, but before he could pull the trigger, a spray of blood erupted from the knight’s neck. He collapsed to the ground and began to convulse.

A soldier in the watchtower had fired before he could.

…

Stevie, surrounded by his knights and swept along in the infantry charge, had no idea what was happening.

Why were his elite, heavily armored knights falling like fragile reeds before these foolish, lowly militiamen who merely had to lift their strange fire pokers?

His heart leaped into his throat, and he immediately bellowed a warning to his knights, “Be careful! Those damnable pokers are loaded with repeating crossbow bolts! Take cover!”

The moment he heard Stevie’s warning, a knight at the front subconsciously rolled to evade.

But the invisible crossbow bolt still grazed his side, tearing through his armor and ripping away a large chunk of the flesh it protected. Blood trickled out from the gash in his armor. The knight instinctively reached to cover the wound, only to find the tear was wider than his palm…

Another invisible bolt shot toward the charging knights, striking the one directly in front of Stevie. It shattered his iron-plated shoulder entirely, spraying Baron Stevie’s head and face with blood and bits of flesh.

In an instant, fear seized Stevie’s heart like a clawed hand. The invisible crossbow bolts were like the Grim Reaper’s scythe, randomly swung, reaping the lives of his elite knights with terrifying speed.

This unseen, untouchable method of attack had clearly terrified all the knights, including Stevie. Some began to try to retreat, even though they were less than a few dozen steps from storming the outpost.

Behind the sandbag barricades, less than a meter high at the camp gate, every militiaman in black holding a fire poker now looked as terrifying as a monster in their eyes.

Stevie’s will to fight had completely vanished. He shouted orders, gathering his knights to begin a slow retreat under their protection.

But a sudden, chaotic uproar from the rear made his heart sink.

The mercenaries and militia who had been straggling at the rear of the knights’ column had just caught up, trapping the dozens of retreating knights and their tall warhorses on the narrow mountain path.

They were now forced to be sitting ducks for the black-clad militiamen in the mountain outpost before them!

Chapter 93: Lined Up and Shot Down (Part 2)

The mercenaries and militia suddenly surging toward the knights’ column hadn’t blocked Stevie and his men on the mountain path for no reason.

Amidst the chaotic, crowded mass, Stevie saw dozens of terrifying metal monsters, shaped like giant spiders, suddenly appear at the bottom of the mountain path’s gentle slope. They were continuously driving the stragglers from his own troops up the hill.

Whenever a slower footsoldier fell behind, these spider-like monsters would quickly rush forward, pierce their bodies with sharp appendages, and drag them into the bushes beside the path.

From the camp high up on the path, the terrifying attack of invisible crossbow bolts seemed to have suddenly lessened. In the chaos, Stevie and the two bloodline knights beside him exchanged a glance.

Almost simultaneously, they realized an opportunity to counterattack had arrived. “It seems they’ve run out of those invisible bolts and arrows!”

The two bloodline knights nodded gravely at Stevie and immediately turned, charging toward the camp gate just a few dozen paces away up the mountain. Stevie, with his few remaining squires, followed closely behind them.

But just then, dozens of black-clothed soldiers instantly stood up from behind the sandbags of the camp’s barricade. They raised the fire pokers inlaid with silvery-white metal in their hands almost in unison, aiming them directly at Stevie’s returning group of knights.

“Not good! Get down, take cover—” Before Stevie could finish his words, he saw several thumb-sized bloody holes appear on the back armor of the knights and squires charging at the very front. In an instant, a large number of the charging knights fell.

Another row of more than ten black-clothed soldiers stood up. Bursts of blood bloomed on the bodies of both knights and horses in the column, and they were cut down like wheat.

Of those at the very front, only the fastest bloodline knight managed to luckily dodge the attack. He leaped over the sandbag barricade in a single bound and fiercely swung his sword at a terrified black-clothed soldier, cleanly severing his arm. But at the same time, two fire pokers were pressed against his sides.

Even protected by steel armor, flesh and blood proved so fragile and soft. Before the bloodline knight could even raise his sword to defend, his waist instantly erupted in a splash of armor fragments and gore. He was severed in two, as if cut in half at the waist.

The knights’ column finally broke.

The knights at the rear of the charge dropped the reins of their horses and pushed with all their might through the mercenaries surging up from the bottom of the slope, beginning to flee into the dense forest on the side of the mountain path.

The mercenaries and militia had, of course, witnessed the bloody rout of the knights ahead. Naturally, they were unwilling to take another step forward to their certain deaths. They had always fought for money; with the main force of knights retreating, of course, they had to run even faster.

A force of nearly three hundred men was crammed onto the narrow mountain path, with terrifying reapers harvesting their lives from both front and back. The situation quickly spun out of control. Dozens of strong horses were mixed in with the crowd, and in the chaos, many who were pushed over were mercilessly trampled, their pained cries echoing across the entire slope.

In the camp atop the mountain, the black-clothed militia formed neat horizontal lines and began to slowly advance toward the chaotic, routed troops. They were starting to clean up the battlefield.

…

This was Tommy’s first time leading his fifty soldiers in a direct confrontation with noble knights and mercenaries since his advancement to Squad Leader.

What he hadn’t expected was that these noble lords, who once sat high on their great horses and whom he hadn’t even had the courage to look at directly, were less formidable under the muzzles of the Magical Energy Guns than the charging, howling vile orcs.

They had organized two failed charges, and the casualties they inflicted on his side were merely one soldier at the very front whose arm was cut off, and another whose abdomen was pierced by a sword thrown by a knight in his dying moments.

The two injured men had been immediately dragged to the rear, given both oral and topical doses of the special medicine from Lord Egnor’s infirmary, and then placed on stretchers to be carried down the mountain and back to the territory for treatment.

“Captain, a total of twenty-eight knights’ bodies have been counted. The numbers don’t add up…” The soldier in charge of clearing the battlefield ran over to report to him. “As for the footsoldiers behind them, the soldiers on watch at the sentry post couldn’t get an accurate count. Many fled into the mountains. The Wolf Spider Beasts have already scattered to hunt them down.”

“All of these noble knights in armor must be found, dead or alive.” Tommy waved his hand dismissively. “As for those footsoldiers, just leave them to the Wolf Spider Beasts. They love playing a game of cat and mouse in the mountains…”

Just then, soldiers carried over two very familiar corpses. They were the arrogant noble who had led the knights’ column and the brocade-robed official beside him.

Both had been trampled to death by their own horses. They hadn’t died at the muzzle of a Magical Energy Gun. It was hard to say whether that was fortunate or unfortunate.

“Gather all their armor and weapons. Don’t miss a single metal plate. Lord Rainer has repeatedly reminded us that we are in desperate need of metal resources…”

Tommy stretched out a foot and lightly stepped on the magnificent cape of the fallen noble lord, now stained with blood and mud.

“These nobles… they’re nothing special after all…”

…

The battle on the ridge of Raven Ridge began at noon.

Harvey received the news of the overwhelming victory after waking up from his post-lunch nap.

Fifty soldiers equipped with loaded Magical Energy Guns and thirty Wolf Spider alchemical beasts, against more than thirty heavily armored and fully equipped noble knights and over two hundred commoner mercenaries.

At the cost of only two seriously wounded, they had achieved a crushing victory.

Harvey was very satisfied with this result.

He carefully read the battle report, handwritten by a non-commissioned officer, and was amused by the frequent spelling and grammatical errors within it.

The knights sent by Earl Fegan were hampered by the terrain on the narrow mountain path and had been forced to abandon a mounted charge in favor of fighting on foot. This had given the territory’s soldiers the perfect opportunity for a swift counterattack.

In the end, this group of elite knights never managed to break through the barricade line set up at the mountaintop to engage the territory’s soldiers in close-quarters combat. That was the situation Harvey had most wanted to avoid. His commoner soldiers, with less than half a year of training, were no match for those highly skilled knights in close combat.

The report also mentioned that a few soldiers, having shot and killed their own kind for the first time, experienced adverse reactions such as trembling hands, nausea, and vomiting. The symptoms were not severe, and Harvey believed that after a few more experiences, they would gradually become accustomed to such bloody battlefield scenes.

“Within a month, Earl Fegan will receive news that his elite force has been completely wiped out.” Harvey stroked his chin and mused to himself. “I won’t be the least bit afraid if he sends more men, but I should still take the moral high ground in advance…”

Sent along with the battle report was a Recording Stone. Harvey had instructed the soldiers at the mountaintop sentry post to activate it with an alchemical instrument the moment they made contact with the other party.

It had only recorded the segment where the opposing party met and spoke with his officer, handed over the tax payment, and then immediately turned hostile. But that was more than enough to submit to the Federation as irrefutable proof, accusing Earl Fegan of violating the Duchy’s laws by going back on his word and attempting to harm the person and property of a Spellcaster.

Chapter 94: Accusation and Frame-up

Donnie, an official at the Federation’s Jackdaw Town branch, took a letter from the postman.

“Him again?” Donnie scratched his sparsely-haired scalp in annoyance. “Didn’t he already move out of Jackdaw Town?”

The news that Harvey the Necromancer had received a Pioneer’s Decree from the Earl of Grizzly Keep and moved from Jackdaw Town to develop the Northern Barren Lands had long since spread throughout the small circle of Spellcasters in Grizzly Fief.

Most of the Spellcasters, who already disliked Necromancers, met his actions with merciless ridicule. A Junior Mage, instead of diligently pursuing magical research to raise his own magic level, had the wild idea of applying for a Pioneer’s Decree and running off to the perilous Northern Barren Lands, just to satisfy his craving to be a landed noble.

This kind of utterly foolish behavior was simply unheard of in the Spellcaster world.

Donnie wasn’t actually one of those old-school Spellcasters who held a discriminatory attitude toward Necromancers. When Harvey had been framed by Burke and attacked by the Church’s witch hunters before, he had felt a faint trace of sympathy for him.

Of course, the Federation’s internal handling of that incident was, in the end, reasonably fair. Although Burke was cleared of the charge of colluding with the Church to attack a colleague during the Headquarters’ investigation, he was forced to give up his post and was sent back to his old home in Grizzly Keep to live in idleness.

The Church, for its part, had no choice but to swallow this bitter pill. Not only did they have to swallow their pride and publicly apologize to the Federation, but they also conducted a thorough review and rotation of the old staff at the Jackdaw Town church branch, replacing them all with new faces.

This finally allowed the enraged Spellcasters to vent their long-held frustrations.

But Harvey, the actual victim in the incident, received almost no benefits or compensation. He was merely handed a letter of apology jointly signed by the Federation and the Church.

Donnie felt it was unfair to him, but then he remembered his identity as a Necromancer and could only sigh.

After carefully reading the contents of the letter Harvey had sent this time, Donnie couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath.

“This Mage Harvey… he’s always stirring up some enormous trouble…”

This was a letter of accusation, and the target was none other than the lord of Grizzly Keep, Earl Fegan himself.

The letter sharply detailed how Earl Fegan, after issuing Harvey the Pioneer’s Decree, had gone back on his word, violating the Duchy’s fiefdom laws by suddenly levying a huge fiefdom tax on him.

And after Harvey had obediently paid this unreasonable tax, the Earl suddenly attacked, accusing him of conducting forbidden magic experiments on his fief and dispatching elite knights and hundreds of mercenaries to attack Harvey’s territory.

And all of the above unreasonable actions and baseless accusations against Harvey, a Spellcaster, had been carried out without any prior notification to the Federation, nor had he submitted any request for an investigation. Instead, Earl Fegan had directly resorted to force on his own authority.

Enclosed with the letter was a Recording Stone, which clearly recorded the entire process of how Earl Fegan’s family knights negotiated the tax with Harvey’s territory’s militia, how they suddenly made their groundless accusations, and then directly launched an armed assault.

The images within a Recording Stone could not be tampered with.

This was irrefutable, ironclad evidence!

“Has Earl Fegan gone mad?” Donnie decisively stood up from his desk and walked briskly out of his office, calling over a clerk in charge of Spell Messengers. “Quickly, copy the contents of this letter, attach this Recording Stone, and send it to the Headquarters in Da’ers. Don’t delay for a second!”

Infighting and conflict between internal factions of Spellcasters were common.

But the Federation would never allow any noble to so easily challenge their class status in the Southern Continent!

After nightfall, Earl Fegan’s residence in Grizzly Keep was ablaze with lights and buzzing with conversation. A crowd of lavishly dressed major and minor nobles danced gracefully in the vast ballroom, while the orchestra the Earl had paid a fortune to hire from the capital played with great effort.

All who could attend the banquet were nobles of considerable reputation and status in Grizzly Fief. It was said that the Countess was extremely fond of hosting concert-like dinner parties and would send out invitations almost weekly.

On such a grand occasion, Earl Fegan himself, the focus and host of the banquet, was surprisingly absent tonight.

However, the Earl was not absent due to illness or being held up by official duties. At this moment, he was in his private study upstairs from the ballroom with several close officials, holding a letter and roaring in a thundering rage.

Sent with the letter was a bloodstained fragment of a breastplate. The Earl’s family crest carved upon it was destroyed by a hole that pierced straight through the armor, robbing the exquisitely crafted piece of its original beauty.

Bang! Earl Fegan slammed his fist heavily on the desk, grinding his teeth. With his brawny, tall frame and a head of slightly curly black hair, he looked like a grizzly bear in a state of fury.

“Stevie is dead! That damned Necromancer actually killed a titled noble knight!”

Power struggles among nobles always had an unwritten rule: no matter which side won, they must not resort to a complete massacre. It was a matter of family honor and status.

Whether they laid down their arms and surrendered willingly or fought to the end and were unfortunately captured, they should receive the preferential treatment due to a noble, awaiting their family to raise a ransom or conduct a prisoner exchange.

A scribe at his side took the thin sheet of paper from the Earl’s large hand, quickly scanned the entire letter, and said with a fearful expression, “My lord, according to the letter, the Baronet launched a sudden attack after the other party had already paid the full tax amount. He… he also publicly declared that he was acting on your orders, accusing the other party of conducting bloody experiments and harming commoners…”

Earl Fegan gritted his teeth. “That brainless fool! He thought victory was in his grasp and recklessly used my name to have a complete falling out with the other party, getting me into this enormous mess!”

Earl Fegan knew very well that he had been the one to instigate this matter. The little rumor that had spread among the nobles had stirred a strong sense of greed in him.

But now, this plan to attack under the guise of collecting taxes had completely failed. The other party now held ironclad evidence accusing him of violating the Duchy’s laws and provoking a conflict without cause.

“If he reports this directly to the Federation…”

“I’m afraid Grizzly Keep will be receiving a visit from battle mages and Magical Affairs Investigators in less than three days.”

Perhaps even the capital would come under direct pressure from the Federation. When that time came, they would surely have no choice but to offer him up as a sacrifice to bear the Federation’s wrath.

A grey-haired old man who had been silent in the study suddenly coughed lightly. Earl Fegan immediately turned to look at him, his tone tinged with a sliver of hope as he asked, “Master Anheer, what are your thoughts on how to handle this matter?”

This old man, whom Earl Fegan called “Master,” was his family’s long-employed Spellcaster advisor. He was not directly affiliated with the Federation but hailed from a rather prestigious Spellcaster family in Da’ers.

Anheer coughed lightly and said indifferently, “Since the late Baronet Stevie claimed this Necromancer was harming commoners, then we just need to make that accusation stick, don’t we…”

“In any case, the reputation of Necromancers has never been very good within the Federation. I also happened to learn a few days ago that this Mage Harvey is no stranger to such suspicions and investigations.”

He slowly walked to the window, thought for a moment, and then continued, “Because of that previous investigation, his relationship with the man in charge of the case review at the time, Mister Burke, soured. Burke even lost his position in the Federation over it and is now at home in Grizzly Keep with nothing to do…”

“An investigation and conviction without proof is indeed a false accusation, but if the evidence is irrefutable… then he’s only getting what he deserves.”

Earl Fegan instantly understood the implication in Anheer’s words. With a wave of his hand, he instructed the scribe.

“Go and invite Mister Burke to the Earl’s residence as a guest, immediately!”

Chapter 95: The Assassination Plot

After nearly a month of listlessly doing odd jobs in the pioneer territories, Yuliao finally found a relatively formal position.

This was all thanks to Old Man Kolun, a teacher at the public school, who happened to hear from a colleague that the territory’s Storage Area was in urgent need of a warehouse administrator to take inventory, due to the autumn harvest and increased factory production.

Since the job wasn’t a long-term contract—only three months of work—the pay wasn’t great, and it was the grueling night shift, the municipal officials in charge of the Storage Area couldn’t even be bothered to post a public notice for it, so the position remained vacant.

This was how Yuliao inexplicably managed to snag the opportunity.

Fortunately, the official in charge of warehouse management didn’t mind that he was missing a hand. After all, as long as he was literate, could handle the basic signing and stamping procedures, and patrolled on schedule at night, that was all that was needed.

The warehouse he was assigned to guard stored scrapped metal parts and materials. Every time the metal pack beasts delivered cargo, they were accompanied by two soldiers in crisp uniforms, carrying weapons.

Although the wooden crates containing the cargo were all sealed, forbidding anyone from opening them, Yuliao knew in his heart that they likely contained decommissioned weapons from the army.

Many residents in the territory had personally witnessed the soldiers’ target practice competitions, and they swore up and down that the weapons used by the soldiers were powerful magical weapons, personally designed and crafted by the lord himself.

They could unleash terrifying bolts of lightning that could pierce and shatter the bodies of vile orcs.

Yuliao never had the chance to see it for himself, but that didn’t stop a sense of yearning and envy from welling up inside him.

If he could have wielded such a powerful magical weapon back then, he wouldn’t have been captured during the battle with the vile orcs, nor would he have had an arm severed, leaving him a cripple.

“I’d love to see just how powerful these legendary Magical Energy Guns are. It would be even better if I could hold one myself and try it out…”

…

All night-shift warehouse administrators had to stay in their assigned warehouses within the Storage Area. Each had a small, partitioned-off room that served as a temporary break room, furnished with a simple wooden bed.

It wasn’t time for his scheduled patrol yet, so Yuliao could only lie on the hard plank bed, tossing and turning to kill time while his mind wandered.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed from outside. Then, the door to the room was pushed open, and someone quietly stepped inside.

“Yuliao, are you asleep?” the newcomer asked in a low voice.

Yuliao recognized the voice. It belonged to his colleague who co-managed the warehouse, a man named Wolfer.

The only thing was, Wolfer was in charge of the day shift, so their work hours never overlapped. They only had the chance to see each other and chat for a bit during the shift change in the morning and evening.

“Wolfer? What are you doing here? Was there a problem with the day’s warehouse logs?” Yuliao asked urgently as he sat up, before he even had a chance to light the candle.

As soon as the words left his mouth, he noticed someone else standing behind Wolfer, their features obscured by the darkness.

Wolfer led the person behind him into the room, gently closed the door, and reached out to stop Yuliao’s hand as he was taking out a flint to light the candle.

“Keep your voice down and listen,” he said, leaning close to Yuliao’s ear as he sat on the bed. “I’ve got a good job for you. Want in? If we succeed, there’s a chance to be knighted!”

“Huh? What… Knighted?” Yuliao was so stunned his jaw dropped.

“That’s right. You’re from the south too, right? I heard you used to be a Probationary Knight,” Wolfer said, keeping his voice low. “Like you, I’m also from the south. We’re not like those lowlifes from the Northern Barren Lands.”

He turned and gestured to the silent stranger behind him, adding, “My companion here is also from the south. You’ve heard of a place called Grizzly Keep, haven’t you?”

Yuliao’s heart skipped a beat. He stammered, “So… what exactly is this job?”

“Lord Harvey has offended a powerful figure in Grizzly Keep. That lord wants to teach him a little lesson, show him who’s really in charge in the lands of Grizzly Keep.”

“You… you’re planning to attack the lord?” Yuliao was so shocked he could barely speak. “His lordship is a Spellcaster! You have some nerve!”

Wolfer sneered. “Of course not. We can’t take on a Mage. Besides, his castle is guarded by those metal monsters. We’d never get close.”

“So, we just need to sneak into his laboratory and… add a little something.”

Damn it, this has to be a long-premeditated plan. They’re turning against their own, siding with outsiders to harm their own lord!

A chill ran down Yuliao’s spine. He tried to change the subject while his mind raced, desperately searching for a way to escape and send a warning. “But the laboratory is in the castle’s basement. It’s also guarded day and night by those metal sentinels. How could we possibly get in?”

“That’s why I came to you to get rich together,” Wolfer said with a smug smile. “Didn’t you used to do odd jobs cleaning the ventilation ducts? You should know that one of them leads to the underground laboratory, right?”

He paused before continuing, “Once it’s done, we’ll leave the pioneer territories immediately and head for Grizzly Keep. That lord will reward us handsomely. You’ll be made a full-fledged knight—a title far more prestigious than Probationary Knight, and bestowed by a high nobleman himself.”

Yuliao gritted his teeth, remaining silent. To him, the path of a knight was about bravely fighting evil and protecting the weak without fear of hardship. It was not about betraying one’s lord over some nobleman’s personal grudge and becoming a despicable traitor!

Even though he was missing a hand, and could never again don armor, ride a warhorse into battle against the savage non-human races, or advance from Probationary Knight to a full knight…

…the words of Old Man Kolun, who had saved him many times, suddenly echoed in his ears.

“So what if you’ve lost a hand? As long as you uphold the justice in your heart, and refuse to be useless or evil, why can’t you be called a knight?”

That’s right! Honor doesn’t come from a nobleman’s decree; it comes from one’s own conviction!

With newfound resolve in his eyes, Yuliao looked up, ready to refuse. At the same time, his peripheral vision caught sight of the short blade he kept by his pillow—a small skinning knife he often used when hunting small animals.

The man who had been standing silently behind Wolfer suddenly strode forward. From beneath his black cloak, a longsword glinted coldly as its tip was pressed against Yuliao’s chest.

“You seem to be hesitating. Why don’t I make the decision for you? Have you forgotten you only have one hand, you cripple…?”

Chapter 96: Is the Lord Naturally Bulletproof?

The ventilation ducts of the Lord’s Castle’s underground laboratory were connected to the domain’s intricate network of sewage pipes.

Initially, during the planning phase, Harvey and the others had set the outlet for domestic sewage downstream in the river. However, as the number of residents in the domain grew, the amount of human and animal waste multiplied. If it all continued to be dumped into the river, the section closest to the Residential Area would become horribly polluted within half a year.

Furthermore, as the scale of cultivation at the Farm expanded, the experimental use of natural fertilizer was officially put on the agenda. Rainer simply set up a massive, open-air compost pit at the edge of the western wall, allowing most of the domain’s human and animal waste to be collected there for composting and fermentation.

Harvey’s laboratory sewage and ventilation pipes were also built adjacent to the compost pit, connecting to the area outside the city walls. This allowed all the toxic waste generated by the laboratory to be discharged directly into the Rottenwater Marsh outside the domain.

The ventilation and sewage pipes required periodic cleaning to prevent blockages and backflow.

But this was hardly a sought-after job, so there had never been a fixed person in charge of cleaning. Only temporary workers, newly arrived in the domain without stable work contracts, were willing to do it.

Yuliao had done it many times. As long as one was willing to crawl into the filthy, foul-smelling, narrow pipes, a mere half-day’s work could earn a generous salary of three gold yuan.

At this moment, he was being led toward the open-air compost pit by two men with ill intentions, a longsword pressed against the small of his back.

“The composting field only has people working during the day. You won’t even see a ghost here at night, because it stinks so damn much…” Wolfer grumbled under his breath as he walked.

Yuliao walked with his head down, not saying a word, his mind racing to find a way to escape.

I don’t have a weapon handy, and I can’t possibly fight two of them at once. On open ground, escape is almost impossible.

The only chance is to get down into the sewage and ventilation pipes and use the complex pathways to get away. But how can I warn the Lord’s guards? Those metal monsters stationed in the castle can’t understand human speech. Just shouting probably won’t work…

“This is the outlet for the sewage pipe?” Wolfer gagged twice, holding his nose as he stood before a round opening that one could only enter by stooping.

The cloaked man with the longsword prodded the small of Yuliao’s back with the tip of his blade, forcing him to answer.

“That’s right. This is the outlet for the sewage pipe, but the ventilation pipe leading to the castle laboratory is buried deep underground. There are just a few entrances left in the sewage pipe for easy inspection and cleaning, connecting the two.”

This was the main reason they had chosen to enter the ventilation pipe from the sewage pipe. The main outlet of the ventilation pipe was located outside the city walls and was blocked by a sturdy metal grate. Without alchemical explosives or a magical bombardment, an ordinary person couldn’t possibly break through.

“You go first and lead the way. Don’t get more than three steps away from me, or else…” The cloaked man pressed the longsword into Yuliao’s back again. The sharp tip pierced his thick cotton coat, making him shudder slightly from the sharp pain.

Just as the three fell silent and prepared to bend down and crawl into the sewer pipe, footsteps suddenly sounded from above.

Someone was approaching the compost pit?

The footsteps soon stopped at the edge of the pit. This was followed by the rustling of clothes, and then the distinct sound of a stream of water fell from the sky, splashing onto the ground not far from the three men at the bottom of the pit.

The strong stench of urine wafted over them.

The cloaked man tilted his head slightly and saw that the person leisurely pissing while humming a little tune from the high edge of the pit was a young man dressed as a soldier in black clothes and pants. He drew an exquisite short crossbow from his waist and, by the faint moonlight, raised his hand and fired it at the man.

A muffled grunt sounded, and the man immediately toppled over and fell into the pit. He hit the ground with a thud and died instantly without even a struggle.

“What are you doing? If you alert the soldiers patrolling the wall, our whole plan will be ruined!” Wolfer hissed, both shocked and angry at the cloaked man.

The cloaked man let out a sinister chuckle and pointed at the long-shafted weapon on the dead soldier’s back.

“Is this the magical weapon you were talking about?” He walked over, took it from the dead man, and handed it to Wolfer. “If it’s really as powerful as you say, why not use it to add some bigger reward chips to our mission?”

Wolfer took the long gun, stunned. “You mean… solve the core of the problem for our client directly?”

The two seemed to understand each other at the same moment, and both let out low, savage laughs.

…

After traveling for about a quarter of an hour through the slick, muddy, and foul-smelling sewer, the three finally arrived at the maintenance hatch Yuliao had mentioned, the one that connected the two pipes.

Peeking his head into the dark hole, he could faintly hear the whirring sound of a fan.

“This is it. Climb in for about ten meters, and you’ll be in the ventilation duct.”

This time, however, the cloaked man didn’t let Yuliao go first to scout the way. He had Wolfer keep Yuliao at gunpoint while he himself hitched up his robe and crawled in first, letting the other two follow behind.

The space inside the ventilation duct was even narrower. The three of them had to crawl on their knees, and it took a great deal of effort to finally reach the end of the pipe. There, they found a locked iron grate, through which they could see a brilliant white light.

That was the Lord’s underground laboratory!

The cloaked man turned and gave Wolfer a look. The latter immediately crawled quietly to the grate, inserted a bent iron wire into the keyhole, and began to fiddle with it.

Wolfer seemed to be particularly skilled at the dirty trade of lock-picking. He opened the lock in just a few tries, with almost no effort at all.

The cloaked man slipped out and crept along the wall, using the various boxes filled with materials and parts for cover, until he reached the door. He peeked his head out to look into the larger, outer laboratory room.

Yuliao was also forced out of the ventilation duct at gunpoint.

Just then, a clatter of footsteps and voices came from the laboratory’s entrance stairs.

A chill ran down Yuliao’s spine. He recognized one of the voices, the one constantly broadcast by a magical device on the announcement board in the town square—the Lord’s voice.

At the same time, Wolfer raised the Magical Energy Gun in his hands. Copying the attack stance of the soldiers he had spied on, he aimed at the laboratory’s stairwell entrance.

Yuliao had no time to think. Seeing that both men in front of him were preparing to launch a sneak attack, he seized the opportunity and lunged at Wolfer, shouting a warning with all his might.

“My lord, be careful! There are assassins in the laboratory!”

Harvey had just stepped into the laboratory when he heard the shout. Before he could react, Astaren suddenly yanked him back, shielding him completely with his sturdy metal body.

Wolfer had never used a Magical Energy Gun before, let alone had any accuracy with it. But as Yuliao tackled him, the energy beam that was supposed to go wide was deflected. By a complete fluke, it struck Astaren, pierced straight through his shoulder, and hit Harvey, who was hiding behind him.

“Dammit!” Astaren was both shocked and enraged. He immediately turned to look at the shot Harvey, his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach. If his own metal body couldn’t withstand a single shot from the Magical Energy Gun, Harvey’s frail, fleshy body would surely have been obliterated.

But when he turned, he found Harvey standing behind him, completely unharmed. The torn robe on his left chest clearly indicated he had been hit, but strangely, not a single drop of blood seeped out.

Harvey’s eyes narrowed as he quickly chanted an incantation. A blurry, phantom-like figure immediately appeared behind the attacker.

A three-circle, instant-cast original spell—Mirror Curse.

The deep black cursed mirror image suddenly exploded on the spot. Countless black threads, as if alive, broke free from the phantom’s control and lunged at the nearby cloaked man, burrowing into his eyes, ears, mouth, and nose.

“Ahhhh!!!!” The cloaked man dropped his longsword and collapsed, writhing and wailing in agony on the floor.

A viscous liquid of the same deep black color began to seep from under his robes, staining the floor in a hideous mess as he thrashed about.

A few breaths later, the cloaked man’s entire body had melted into black water, leaving only a pile of filthy, greasy clothes on the ground.

The moment Yuliao tackled Wolfer, he had tried to knock the Magical Energy Gun out of his hands, but he had still managed to get a shot off in the chaos. Now, as he wrestled with Wolfer on the floor with one hand, a moment’s carelessness allowed Wolfer to pull a short dagger from his waist and stab him in the chest.

It seemed to have pierced his lung, causing him to cough up a great deal of bloody foam.

Two activated alchemical beasts swiftly pounced, pinning the two struggling men to the floor.

“The assassins are fighting amongst themselves?” Harvey said to himself in confusion as he slowly approached.

Before Yuliao lost consciousness, the last thought that flashed through his mind was—

“My lord… he’s… he’s actually invulnerable?”

Chapter 97: Returning the Favor

Harvey changed out of his mage robe, which had been shredded by the Magical Energy Gun, and sat at his study desk in a daze.

Just like the last time he was attacked by the witch hunter in Jackdaw Town, he had once again failed to anticipate that someone would dare to infiltrate his territory, much less crawl through the ventilation ducts to reach his laboratory.

Astaren had nearly had his head blown off by that blast from the Magical Energy Gun. His shoulder was pierced straight through, causing him to lose control of his entire alchemical arm. He was now undergoing emergency repairs by Rainer.

Harvey touched his own perfectly intact chest, a sense of lingering fear washing over him. “But… I wasn’t wearing the Ring of the Silvermoon Ward. Why was I completely unscathed after being hit by the Magical Energy Gun?”

He couldn’t help but recall the beetle ore experiment back in Jackdaw Town. The violent explosion it had inadvertently caused had only managed to blow off his protective face mask, but his body had been unharmed.

Could it be an immunity to energy beams that came with being a transmigrator?

If so, wouldn’t that mean I have some kind of innate sacred body that’s immune to magic bullets…?

That being said, Harvey didn’t dare to actually test this startling idea by shooting himself with a Magical Energy Gun again.

At the very least, his assistants and subordinates would be the first to object, and they would probably demand that Egnor prepare a potion for treating mental derangement and force it down his throat on the spot.

Who was the mastermind behind this attack? The witch hunter faction of the Church? Earl Fegan, whose nephew had died? Or was it someone from the Federation whom he had previously offended?

Harvey slammed his fist on the desk in frustration. It was outrageous! He had already moved away from Jackdaw Town and hidden himself in the barren lands north of the Spine of the Continent Mountains, yet he was still attracting so much trouble. Couldn’t they just let him lie low and build up his strength in peace?

A series of hurried footsteps sounded from outside the study. Pierce, who had returned from the River Valley Outpost only a few days ago, pushed the door open, followed by Egnor, the head of the Territory’s Infirmary.

“My lord, we’ve more or less identified the attackers. Egnor and I each used our own methods to interrogate the two who are still alive. Their confessions are basically identical. They’re from the south, not wanderers from the barren lands.”

People from the south? Harvey’s eyes widened. His own kinsmen, born and raised in the south, were less loyal than the destitute wanderers of the Northern Barren Lands. It seemed he would have to pay special attention to this group from now on. The first step would be to purge them from his army!

He asked with some curiosity, “You interrogated them separately? What methods did you use to make them talk?”

Pierce said flatly, “I handled the one who fired the shot. It was simple. I slit his veins and let him slowly experience the sensation of his blood draining away. Hmm… My apologies, my lord. I couldn’t help but feed once midway through. You did say not to waste food…”

Egnor chimed in with a grin, “As for the one with the chest wound, you said not to use harsh torture, so I added a little something extra to the healing potion I gave him. Within ten minutes, he had spilled every last one of his secrets… Haha, and to think, the guy is in his twenties and still a virgin…”

Harvey covered his face, not wanting to hear any more. He quickly cut in, “So? Did you find out anything?”

“It was Earl Fegan of Grizzly Keep who ordered them to infiltrate the territory and carry out the assassination…” Pierce reported the matter from beginning to end. “Of the two survivors, the uninjured one, Wolfer, was a commoner who had willingly pledged allegiance, but he was bought off with a hefty sum by men sent by Earl Fegan. The man you killed on the spot was one of Earl Fegan’s men, a professionally trained death-sworn agent.”

“Their original plan was to plant fabricated evidence in your laboratory to frame you, giving Earl Fegan a pretext to make a move…” Pierce rummaged through the melted heap of the cloaked man’s clothing and found a stack of papers detailing gruesome experiments and forbidden magic, along with several dark magic stones used for casting forbidden curses.

“That’s not right. Earl Fegan has no way of obtaining the details of these spells or the materials that could be used to frame me!” Harvey abruptly realized something was wrong. “There’s a Spellcaster behind him, arming him from the shadows…”

Harvey stared at the pitch-black magic stones Pierce had placed on the desk and suddenly cursed through gritted teeth, “That son of a bitch Burke! He’s like a lingering ghost!”

Aside from those within the Federation, no one could get their hands on these forbidden spells and dark magic stones, not even the Spellcaster families.

Seeing the flush of anger on Harvey’s face, Pierce quickly handed him a cup of warm water and then dropped to one knee.

“My lord, whether it was in Jackdaw Town last time or this time with assassins infiltrating the laboratory, it was a failure of my duty. I request punishment.”

Harvey took a sip of water and waved his hand. “There’s no need for that. The witch hunter last time was a veteran at assassinating Spellcasters; you couldn’t have prevented it. This time, you had just returned from the outpost, and I never gave any orders for you to station soldiers to guard the castle.”

He sighed faintly. Not setting up Sentry alchemical beasts around the castle and laboratory was also a major blunder on his part. He had been so focused on defending against external threats that he had neglected potential internal vulnerabilities.

“What about the assassin who called out to warn me? Did they have a falling out over the spoils?”

Egnor quickly explained, “No, he wasn’t an accomplice. He was only forced to lead the way for the assassins because he was familiar with the layout of the sewers…”

Harvey grunted in satisfaction. It seemed there were still plenty of common folk in his territory who were on his side.

“Treat his wounds well. When he has recovered, bring him to see me.”

Egnor bowed slightly and then left the study, leaving Pierce alone.

Harvey stood up, walked over to Pierce, and bent down to speak to him in a low voice. “From the soldiers under your command, I want you to select the one with the best combat record, the strongest marksmanship, and the sharpest mind.”

He pulled the kneeling Pierce to his feet and patted his shoulder encouragingly. “Find him as soon as possible, and bring him to me tomorrow if you can. Remember, he must be a sharpshooter. I recall those few soldiers who participated in the target practice competition were quite good. Hmm… they should all have been promoted to junior officers by now, right?”

Pierce nodded and replied, “Yes, my lord. They were among the first batch of militia recruited in the territory and the first soldiers to begin training with Magical Energy Guns.”

He puffed out his chest slightly, explaining with a hint of pride, “I can’t boast that the officers I personally trained can hit their target every time, but hitting a vile orc in the head from over three hundred paces away is something quite a few of them can do with ease…”

Harvey knew that Pierce was always cautious with his words and wouldn’t idly boast about his abilities.

“Good. Then go and pick your man. If your chosen candidate is on rotation at the River Valley Outpost, arrange for a War Beast to bring him back immediately.”

A decapitation strike? If that’s something Earl Fegan can pull off, then I’m even better at it!

Chapter 98: Headshot

Wayne handed the reins of his horse to the inn attendant, who approached with a deep bow. After a moment’s thought, he pulled a few silver coins from his pocket and tossed them to the man.

“Get some soybeans for the horse, and I’ll need a room with a window facing the street.”

The attendant nodded and bowed repeatedly, leading him to a room at the end of the second-floor corridor. He then asked with a wide smile if Wayne needed any wine or food.

Wayne remembered Commander Pierce’s strict, repeated admonitions before he set out. His throat bobbed. “Just some white bread and fish chowder will do…” he said.

After the attendant closed the door and left, he sat on the edge of the bed and unslung the leather pack he had been carrying. He spread it open on the bed.

Inside was a specially made Magical Energy Gun, slightly longer than the standard model they usually used. It had been temporarily disassembled into two parts, the barrel and the stock, and came with two five-round magazines.

This gun’s range was more than double that of a standard model. When aiming, one could use a device on top of the barrel called a “sight” to improve accuracy.

Wayne skillfully assembled the gun. He went through the motions of aiming and firing several times, then pulled out a soft cloth and carefully wiped the gun’s body, seemingly unable to put it down.

Thinking about the mission Commander Pierce had assigned him, Wayne couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth curl up in a smug grin, chuckling to himself.

This was the first time he had been chosen over the other top marksmen in the army, like Vaughn and Dav, personally selected by Commander Pierce.

He knew full well that in terms of both combat record and marksmanship, Vaughn and the others were actually better than him. But he must have had some other qualities for the commander to have chosen him first.

Although the tensions between the old and new factions of soldiers in the army had eased considerably, leading to a better relationship between Wayne, Vaughn, and the others, Wayne still felt a secret delight in beating them in this competition.

After composing himself, he closed his eyes and carefully recalled the image of the target, shown to him personally by his lord from a Recording Stone.

The man was about forty years old, of medium height and slightly overweight, with fair skin and curly brown hair. He wore a gold-rimmed monocle, had a thin, two-pronged mustache, and favored the deep black, Federation-style mage robe, with the special silver embroidery of a mid-rank Spellcaster on the cuffs.

“Burkov Connard, hmm… Today’s mission is to find where he lives. Tomorrow, I’ll figure out his daily routine,” Wayne muttered to himself as he pushed open the window and looked down at the bustling street.

The commander was right. This was no different from hunting in the jungle.

The steps were all the same.

Observe, track, lock on, kill…

…

Earl Fegan paced back and forth in his study, complaining anxiously to his mage advisor, Master Anheer, who stood beside him. “Malick has been gone for five days. How is there still no word from him?”

He pointed at a letter on his desk and cursed in frustration, “That damned Necromancer has already reported me to the Federation! Hmph, they didn’t accuse me directly, just sent an inquiry letter. But sooner or later, this will get to the Council of Nobles, and then I’m afraid…”

Master Anheer’s eyes were slightly narrowed. “My lord Earl, do not lose your composure,” he said faintly. “The Federation can’t convict you without going through the Council of Nobles, so we still have plenty of time to execute our plan and clear your name.”

“Should we… send another death-sworn agent?”

Master Anheer sighed and shook his head slowly. “That’s not necessary. It would be too easy to alert the enemy.”

Earl Fegan thought for a moment, but he still felt uneasy. He rang a bell and summoned his secretary. “Go and invite Mage Burkov. Tell him I have something to discuss with him.”

A short while later, Burkov hurried over and was led by an attendant into the Earl’s study.

“Mister Burkov, the… evidence you had Malick take to the pioneer territories, can it really make the charges against that Necromancer stick?”

“My lord Earl, you can rest completely assured on that point. It’s all forbidden magic and prohibited materials, explicitly banned by the Federation. Heh heh, as long as your man places it in a hidden spot in the lab, he won’t be able to escape suspicion when we lead the Federation investigators to his door…”

“And what if the frame-up fails? A Spellcaster’s laboratory isn’t so easy to infiltrate. He’s also a lord, so he’ll naturally have guards.”

Master Anheer cut off the Earl’s pessimistic conjecture. “My lord, Malick is a mage squire specially trained by my family. He excels at stealthy infiltration and assassination… Besides, don’t we have a backup plan?”

Earl Fegan’s eyes lit up. “Right! The backup plan…” he murmured. His face twitched, and he suddenly broke into a savage grin. “If things get difficult, just have Malick assassinate him. We’ll wipe them out, root and stem!”

At this, Burkov couldn’t help but interject, “That Necromancer has two defensive weapons around him, similar to combat-type alchemical bodies. He survived an unexpected attack from the Church’s witch hunters before, thanks to those things.”

Master Anheer chuckled. “Rest assured, unless he spends his entire life inside his residence and laboratory, Malick’s poisoned short crossbow will not miss once he steps outside…”

It was a special magic crossbow, also from the Alchemical Exploration Society. Its bolts were coated with a deadly poison that killed on contact with blood, and it had a range of a full fifty paces.

“And isn’t this perfect? We can then conveniently pin his accidental death on the Church. After all, they’re currently conducting a large-scale purge of their witch hunter faction…”

As he said this, Master Anheer met the gaze of Burkov, who also loathed the Church, and they both chuckled.

…

Wayne lay prone on the roof of a two-story building, his body concealed by a large, red-brick chimney. He stared intently at the gate of a luxurious mansion across the street below.

Unlike the single-story or two-to-three-story houses of the commoners and wealthy merchants nearby, the Earl’s residence was far more massive. The lawn and garden in front of the main building, complete with a fountain and sculpture, were almost as large as the square in front of his lord’s castle.

Two hours earlier, he had followed his target and watched him enter the Earl’s residence. The man had yet to emerge.

Wayne glanced at the sky. He estimated that the sun would set in another hour or two. The dim light might hinder his mission, but it didn’t matter. If not today, there was always tomorrow. If not tomorrow, the day after…

He adjusted the gray blanket covering him, colored to match the roof tiles. Only his focused eyes and the muzzle of his extended Magical Energy Gun were visible. The barrel was wrapped in gray-black cloth strips to hide any metallic glint.

The target appeared!

Just as Wayne was beginning to think he wouldn’t get a chance today, Burkov’s short, stout figure suddenly appeared at the gate of the Earl’s residence. He stood on the stone steps, pretentiously adjusting his collar and looking left and right, apparently waiting for an arranged carriage.

Master Anheer and the Earl’s personal secretary, who had been instructed by the Earl to see him off, stood smiling on either side of Burkov, making farewell pleasantries.

“Mister Burkov, if this matter proceeds smoothly, His Lordship will consider personally recommending you to Grand Duke Frederico of Da’ers to be his exclusive spellcasting advisor,” Master Anheer promised in a low voice.

Such private enticements and promises could not, of course, come from the Earl himself, so it was most appropriate for his advisor to convey them.

A flicker of undisguised joy crossed Burkov’s face. He quickly controlled his expression and his inner excitement, nodding reservedly in thanks.

“Master Anheer, please express my heartfelt gratitude to his lordship, the Earl. I…”

His words were only half-spoken when his head suddenly exploded with a bang. The expressions of Anheer and the secretary, who were standing face-to-face with him, instantly twisted into masks of utter horror as scarlet blood mixed with shattered brain matter sprayed all over them.

Chapter 99: The United Forum Members

Having been busy all day with various matters in the pioneer territories, Harvey missed two or three Spellcaster Forum meetings.

He finally found some free time on a Friday evening and logged into the Magic Net Forum just before the meeting began.

Although Unit Zero recorded the content of every meeting verbatim for Harvey to review at any time, as the Forum’s Administrator, he still needed to listen in from time to time and occasionally participate to maintain his grand image.

[Hand of Elements: Praise be to Mr. Turing! Good evening, everyone!]

The same familiar opening line…

Before others could join the flood of greetings, a message suddenly flashed and appeared quickly in the chat room.

[Stormwalker: Everyone! I am very sorry to interrupt your opening greetings…]

Harvey pulled up the list of forum members and saw this was a new member invited by one of the original members. The inviter was Ghost Captain. This new member didn’t speak much in the meetings, but had participated in the online auctions and was quite active in the Information Exchange section, often sharing insightful academic knowledge with other members for free.

[Stormwalker: I would like to take the liberty of asking the esteemed Mr. Turing, does this Magic Net Casters Forum have a purpose or philosophy of mutual aid and unity among its members?]

Harvey, being called out so suddenly, found it a bit strange. But out of respect and courtesy, everyone else stopped talking. He had no choice but to ponder for a moment before replying.

[Administrator Turing: You can interpret ‘inclusivity,’ one of the four principles of freedom, openness, inclusivity, and anonymity, as members choosing to unite and help each other through difficult times when necessary…]

[Stormwalker: Thank you, Mr. Turing.]

[Stormwalker: Everyone, I wish to disclose a bloody tragedy that occurred in Wutong County, the capital of the Barkley Duchy…]

The annihilation of a clan? Harvey couldn’t help but narrow his eyes, looking at the flashing text on the screen in confusion. Why bring up something like this in a forum meeting? Did this Spellcaster mistake this place for the Federation’s Tribunal?

[Spellshield: @Mr. Stormwalker, if you're talking about that bloody, unsolved case involving the Church's witch hunters and a Mage family, I've heard some things about it recently...]

Witch hunters again. These shady rats from the Church, lurking in the shadows and waiting for an opportunity, are truly a persistent plague…

Harvey clicked his tongue, waiting with great interest for their subsequent conversation.

[Stormwalker: That’s right. A high-rank bloodline knight from the Church’s Judgment Army in the Barkley capital attacked and killed a Spellcaster from the Sebastian family without cause. During the investigation, the Federation and the Church determined it was a fight caused by a personal conflict and directly ruled that the Judgment Army knight had killed the other man by accident…]

[Stormwalker: This is a blatant exchange of interests and a cover-up! The Sebastian family has always been on poor terms with the pro-Church conservative faction within the Federation. As a result, in this incident, the Federation’s Barkley branch actually sided directly with the Church, trying to sweep the matter under the rug…]

It seems that whether it’s the Church or the Federation, the internal factional struggles are intense. They’ll even commit clearly unjust acts for their own interests.

Reading up to this point, Harvey could basically guess the cause and effect of the situation. He couldn’t help but sigh softly.

[Stormwalker: That’s not even the worst of it! Shortly after, the Sebastian family’s ancestral home in Wutong County—a family academy they used specifically to train the younger generation—was suddenly attacked by a group of powerful, unidentified enemies. Inside the entire manor, eighteen Mage apprentices, two low-rank Spellcaster masters, servants, and assistants, a total of thirty-nine people, were all killed. Not a single one was spared…]

[Son of Flame: It must have been those witch hunters, they should be cut into a thousand pieces! A bunch of damned human scum!]

[Spellshield: An internal member of the Federation responsible for investigating the case revealed that there were no traces of spell combat at the scene. Everyone died from direct attacks by bladed weapons and the like. The suspicion does indeed point to the Church’s Judgment Army, as only they would train so many bloodline knights…]

[Stormwalker: That may be so, but without direct evidence to make an accusation, this unsolved case has been shelved… The Sebastian family has sent people to Araye to appeal several times, but there has been no progress.]

“Spellshield” Fran Macaulay watched Stormwalker’s impassioned accusations on the crystal screen and couldn’t help but sigh. Of course, there wouldn’t be any progress on this case.

The Federation was planning to use this as a bargaining chip to pressure the Holy See, forcing them to give up a portion of their share in the Evil Moon Mountain Range’s magic stone mining areas.

Compared to the enormous profits from high-grade magic stone veins, the deaths of a mere dozen or so Mage apprentices from a small Spellcaster family affiliated with the Federation were simply nothing.

He thought for a moment, but still couldn’t resist typing a reply.

[Spellshield: The Federation internally suspects that among the participants in this incident was a high-rank knight with the “Anti-Magic Domain” bloodline talent. That’s all I can reveal…]

[Ghost Captain: I agree with Mr. Spellshield. The “Anti-Magic Domain” bloodline talent… Hmph, besides the direct lineage of the Church, it seems no other knight family has ever produced such a talent.]

This was the first time Harvey had heard of such a strange bloodline talent. From the name alone, it wasn’t hard to guess that a bloodline knight with this talent was likely the natural enemy of all Spellcasters—a born witch hunter, in fact.

[Hand of Elements: Isn’t it obvious? The Radiant Grand Judge of the Araye Holy See is a Legendary bloodline knight with exactly that kind of talent, is he not?]

[Stormwalker: Everyone, one of the victims was a student of mine. He was a member of a branch of the Sebastian family and had been studying with me for nearly ten years. He was a young man who was very dedicated to his academic research, and was earnest and kind. He… he was on the verge of advancing to a mid-rank Spellcaster. He only returned to the academy temporarily to serve as a spell instructor because his family summoned him. I never thought…]

[Stormwalker: I am currently on the Demon battlefront, serving a combat mission with the Mage coalition. I cannot get away anytime soon. Therefore, I want to ask for your help. I ask that you all take action and give these dregs of the Church the punishment they deserve. I am willing to pay a price for this, be it in forum points or other items of equal value.]

He hadn’t expected this Mr. Stormwalker to be a competent teacher who cared for his student. A man of sincere feeling, indeed…

But his inability to get away and personally avenge his student was likely not because of some official combat mission. Rather, the Federation and the Church had probably reached a tacit understanding through some exchange of benefits. They had therefore given him a warning or caution, preventing him from any drastic acts of revenge.

Politicians who can use magic are still politicians. The nasty tricks brewing in their guts aren’t any less potent.

[Son of Flame: No need to talk about payment! If you can provide the specific location of that batch of witch hunters, as long as it’s not beyond the travel distance of a continental teleportation array, I can take action for you once, free of charge… But I’ll need intelligence support.]

[Earth’s Favored: I share the same view. I am willing to provide recent intelligence on Spellcasters and the Church within the Barkley Duchy… I hope it will be of some help.]

[Astrologer: I have a friend in the Barkley Duchy at this very moment. An act of vengeance against the Church’s witch hunters is something he would be very interested in. I will be responsible for relaying the message and making contact.]

[Mithril Unicorn: I am also willing to provide some assistance. Mr. Stormwalker, please contact me privately.]

It seemed that when it came to conflicts with the Church, the Spellcasters were quite united in their views. Even though they usually formed various factions and groups, engaging in sharp debates and hidden struggles on the Spellcaster Forum, their attitudes were surprisingly consistent when faced with an external threat.

[Spellshield: @Mr. The Scorching Sovereign, what are your thoughts on this matter?]

Harvey’s heart skipped a beat. He had also been waiting for the stance of this Legendary Caster, who, besides himself, held the highest prestige and status on the forum. After all, the man was very likely a high-ranking member of the Federation.

[The Scorching Sovereign: I believe a blood debt must indeed be paid in blood.]

[The Scorching Sovereign: I wonder if Mr. Turing agrees?]

The corners of Harvey’s mouth curled up slightly. He understood that the other man had also been waiting for him to declare his stance.

[Administrator Turing: I completely respect everyone’s thoughts. After all, this is the Magic Net Spellcaster Forum.]

Chapter 100: The Offline Revenge Operation

A middle-aged man with short, deep-red hair and a tall, sturdy build stepped leisurely out of the Federation branch’s continental teleportation array in the capital of Barkley, carrying an exquisite leather case.

“Archmage Hoden, my greetings to you!” A server in a mage apprentice’s uniform approached and bowed respectfully. “The Branch President was informed of your travel plans and had me wait here for you in advance…”

Fell Hoden waved his hand impatiently. “I have no time to waste exchanging pleasantries with that fellow Zalaros. Wasn’t he humiliated enough by me at last year’s academic council in Araye?”

He strode out swiftly, case in hand. The server, face flushed, followed closely behind. “Archmage Hoden, the Branch President just wanted to invite you to dinner…”

“No need. I’m required to fast and abstain from alcohol recently. Zalaros can enjoy those extravagant delicacies and fine wines by himself.”

With that, he walked out of the Federation branch building without a backward glance, leaving the server standing by the door with a bewildered expression.

An operations commissioner came forward, watching Fell’s back as he quickly boarded a carriage.

“Is Archmage Hoden in a hurry for something on this trip to the capital?”

“I don’t know, but don’t go prying. The travel itinerary sent from Headquarters was stamped with a Secrecy Seal.”

…

Fell sat upright in the Federation’s private carriage, his eyes closed in silent repose.

The carriage’s destination was a scenic manor in the capital’s outskirts, a residence specially established by the Federation for visiting high-level casters.

Any high-level caster who held a position or was registered with the Federation, whether on official business or travel to any country on the Southern Continent, could choose to stay at a Federation-owned manor.

Even though Fell’s true purpose for this trip was to fight on someone’s behalf, he still had to maintain appearances. With his entire itinerary on the Federation’s official record, he could avoid a great deal of trouble and entanglement later.

Though his short temper was well-known within the Federation, Fell wasn’t foolish enough to emerge from a teleportation array and fly straight to the Barkley Royal Cathedral to smash a seventh-circle Flame Burst on someone’s head.

As far as he knew, the Holy See had more than one high-level priest stationed in Barkley.

Upon arriving at the Spellcaster manor, Fell was led by a server into a spacious and luxurious suite. In addition to a bedroom and a living room, it was even equipped with a small-scale spell laboratory and a study.

He set down the small leather case he had been carrying and gently flicked the lock, which was fortified with a sealing magic.

He hadn’t brought much with him this time. The case contained only a few sharp-edged, crystal-clear fire element magic stones—high-grade, high-quality, single-use items that he had no intention of taking back with him.

There was also a Tracking Magic Stone, a peculiar device created by the Alchemical Exploration Society. After recording a target’s image, it could lock onto them within a certain range but would fail immediately if they moved beyond it.

Finally, there was a strangely shaped object resembling a charred tree branch, as if it had been repeatedly scorched by intense flames. This was what Fell truly treasured—his magical energy amplifying artifact, the “Burning Tree.”

Elemental casters of Fell’s level generally didn’t place much importance on using artifacts to amplify their combat power and magical energy. After all, their sigils were almost completely filled with condensed models of powerful spells, bringing them to a peak level where they could cast with a mere thought.

But Fell was an exception. He wasn’t a research-type Spellcaster who had always been engaged in spell analysis. Before the age of forty, he had been a spellcasting fanatic stationed for long periods in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, frequently battling Demon spellcasters in mage battle groups.

Therefore, he was particularly fond of tactics involving blanketing an area with high-yield, high-density spells. Even when fighting alone, he never forgot to layer himself with a host of spell amplification effects. The moment his enemy threw out their first instant-cast spell, he would have already unleashed an overwhelming barrage of Flame Bursts, Dragon’s Flames, Scorching Fires, and Spells of Fire Crows right in his enemy’s face.

To ensure he could enjoy his spell duels, he had also spent several years gathering numerous rare magical materials to perform a certain degree of magic resistance modification on his own body, making him a nonconformist among the frail Spellcasters of the Federation.

After all, not many battle mages could do what he did: charging at a demonic priest and engaging in intense hand-to-hand combat, swinging fists that had been enhanced with a blazing flame effect.

…

Knock, knock, knock! A gentle knock suddenly sounded at the door.

Fell closed his suitcase and walked over to turn the handle.

“Mr. Astrologer? No, you’re his friend?”

The visitor elegantly placed a hand on his chest in a salute, then sidled into Fell’s room.

For this offline revenge operation on behalf of “Stormwalker,” the few participants had each signed an identity concealment contract, witnessed by Mr. Turing. Therefore, there was no need to worry about their identities being exposed to one another.

This friend of “Mr. Astrologer” happened to be a local Spellcaster from Barkley, but his identity was confidential, and Fell couldn’t be bothered to inquire.

“You can call me—Eye of Illusion. Heh heh, Mr. Son of Flame. I will soon have the honor of joining the Spellcaster Forum as well. I look forward to conversing with you on the Forum…”

Fell pursed his lips. So, he was another one waiting in line to join.

He immediately put on the airs of an original Forum member, saying humbly, yet with a hint of smugness: “Joining the Forum is no easy task. Your inviting sponsor will have to pay a great price, and you will also need the unanimous approval of Mr. Administrator and all members of the Forum.”

“Mr. Eye of Illusion” seemed to have a very mild temperament. He took no offense at Fell’s words and instead replied with sincerity, “Indeed. My participation in this operation is also to express my goodwill to all the members.”

Fell nodded and said candidly, “There is one other Forum member who will be taking part in this, Mr. Mithril Unicorn. I haven’t received his message yet. I’m not sure if he can rendezvous with us on time.”

Hearing this, Eye of Illusion immediately raised his left hand, showing Fell a sea-blue ring he wore on his ring finger.

“A storage ring?” Fell was taken aback. Was this guy showing off his wealth to me?

“Mr. Mithril Unicorn, strictly speaking, has already rendezvoused with me…” he said, winking humorously.

Fell was completely baffled, not understanding the hidden meaning in his words.

Smiling, Eye of Illusion channeled his magical energy, releasing a silver-white metal canister half a man’s height from the storage ring. It was densely engraved with constantly shifting spell inscriptions, but strangely, the canister itself emitted no magical fluctuations at all.

“Hiss~ What in the world is this thing?” Fell stared at the device on the floor, circling it a few times without figuring it out.

Eye of Illusion explained with a grin, “This is the assistance provided by Mr. Unicorn, and it’s also our greatest advantage for this operation—the Anti-Magic Suppression Array.”

Chapter 101: The Spellcaster’s Fury

Around midnight, having rested briefly at the spellcaster manor, Fell Hoden and Eye of Illusion received the intelligence on the witch hunters from the Forum member “Earth’s Favored” right on schedule.

Without a moment’s delay, they each cast a mid-level, fourth-circle concealment spell, flew out the window of their room at the manor, and headed straight for the destination indicated in the report.

There were many types of flight spells that only high-level casters could learn and use, but every single one was extremely draining on one’s stored magical energy. Unless it was for combat or an emergency, they were generally not used for simple travel.

Braving the biting cold wind of the high-altitude night, Fell and Eye of Illusion flew northwest from the manor, away from Barkley Capital and toward the outskirts.

“The location provided by Mr. Earth’s Favored is very precise,” said Eye of Illusion, who was clearly using an amplifying artifact to aid his flight, to Fell flying alongside him. “It’s a monastery in a mountain ravine abandoned by the Church, and it’s also the witch hunters’ main gathering point in Barkley Capital.”

Fell thought for a moment. “Earth’s Favored is indeed very familiar with the Church’s movements. Heh, if I hadn’t discussed spellcraft with him on the Forum several times before, I would almost suspect he was a spy planted by the Church…”

“You have a dark sense of humor,” Eye of Illusion chuckled. “Tonight is the Day of Sacred Tribulation for the Followers of Radiance. As a traditionalist faction of the Church, the witch hunters will definitely gather for their midnight holy prayer. It’s the perfect opportunity for us to wipe them all out in one fell swoop.”

Fell nodded. “Excellent. I’ll leave setting up the Anti-Magic Suppression Array outside the monastery to you.”

The two flew at high speed for about an hour and soon arrived near the mountain ravine monastery, slowly descending in a dense forest not far from it.

A layer of thick, black flame ignited on Fell Hoden’s short, black mage robes. It did not radiate much heat, merely forming an illusory shield that enveloped his body.

This was a universal defensive spell of the fire element school—the fifth-circle spell “Black Flame Shield,” which could be maintained for fifteen minutes and granted immunity to a vast majority of physical damage not enhanced by magical energy.

Eye of Illusion activated his own protective magic as well, forming a blurry, distorted silhouette around himself that warped the light.

Fell glanced at him, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. His eye was sharp and his experience vast; he could tell at a glance that this was force magic, the specialty of Arcane Casters. It seemed his temporary combat partner was a high-level Arcane Mage.

And one who specialized in the transmutation and force schools of magic.

He retrieved the device for the Anti-Magic Suppression Array from his storage ring and placed it carefully in a clearing in the woods. Although the array’s duration was short, its coverage was immense. Once activated, it could envelop nearly half the valley basin where the monastery was situated.

“The Anti-Magic Suppression Domain can only be maintained for ten minutes. Let’s make our move!”

Eye of Illusion nodded at Fell. “I’ll be responsible for drawing those witch hunters out of the monastery. It’ll save us the time of having to hunt them down one by one if they scatter and hide inside…”

With that, he crouched down, pressed his palms firmly against the ground, and opened his mouth to begin silently chanting an incantation.

He’s not using instant-casting?

Fell narrowed his eyes in surprise, watching his partner’s strange actions with confusion. Could it be that the analytical model for this spell was too profound and complex for him to have inscribed it as a sigil yet?

Suddenly, he felt invisible ripples spread from Eye of Illusion’s palms, swiftly traveling beneath the ground and surging toward the monastery like a powerful, subterranean tide.

Immediately after, he felt the ground begin to tremble, but it wasn’t violent enough to make him lose his footing.

When Fell looked up toward the monastery in the distance, he was astonished to see the entire towering structure swaying in time with the vibrations, the movement growing more and more pronounced.

The air filled with the sharp crashing of bricks and mortar scraping against the ground, glass rattling against window frames, and doors banging open and shut.

“A simulated earthquake?”

Was Mr. Eye of Illusion planning to shake the monastery to the ground to drive out those witch hunter dregs?

He looked so refined and elegant, with the gentle air of a scholar, yet his methods were even more simple and brutal than his own…

Fell couldn’t help but look again at Eye of Illusion, who was still crouched on the ground casting the spell. He realized that even his most powerful Amplified Flame Blast wouldn’t be able to just casually demolish a monastery building that lacked protective arrays.

It would take at least five bombardments of high-level elemental magic to achieve the effect Mr. Eye of Illusion was currently producing…

Looks can truly be deceiving!

…

A chaotic clamor gradually rose from within the brightly lit monastery.

The main doors were thrown open, and a crowd of robed followers and priests wearing gold-embroidered coronets stumbled out.

“Lord! It’s an earthquake! Run!”

“Help! I can’t stay on my feet!”

A few bricks fell from above, landing squarely on the heads of some of the lucky ones at the very front of the fleeing crowd. They managed only a muffled grunt before collapsing to the ground, killed instantly.

The windows on the monastery’s outer walls shattered from the violent shaking, sending a rain of glass shards down upon the crowd, sparking another round of wails.

In a fit of panic, some even threw themselves from the broken windows on the second and third floors, hitting the ground with a dull thud…

“That should be enough, Mr. Son of Flame. The stage is yours now.” Eye of Illusion slowly retracted his hands from the ground, looking calmly at Fell Hoden beside him.

“I thought you were going to bring the whole monastery down and be done with it.”

“Heh, if the monastery collapses, how are we supposed to count our kills from this operation? Are you going to dig their bodies out one by one with your bare hands?” Eye of Illusion seemed to be in high spirits as he teased Fell.

Fell immediately shut his mouth, deciding not to delve any deeper into the topic with him.

Hmph, once this guy joins the Forum, there will be plenty of opportunities for “academic debate”!

He turned his gaze toward the monastery and instantly locked onto a tall man in an archpriest’s robes, the last to emerge from the main doors.

To a high-level caster’s senses, the bloodline power of the Church’s direct lineage emanating from him was impossible to suppress or hide.

A mid-level bloodline knight with the innate “Anti-Magic Domain” ability!

After rushing out of the monastery, he was brandishing a sharp longsword that gleamed with the light of an enchantment, yelling furiously at the chaotic crowd of followers and witch hunter faction members.

Suddenly, a powerful magical fluctuation came from above. The bloodline knight jerked his head up to look.

Under the silvery moonlight, which was faintly veiled by dark clouds, a tall, powerfully built man with red hair and black clothes stood silently in the sky.

The intense magical fluctuation emanated from a massive, blazing red fireball that was gradually coalescing between his hands.

“It’s an evil wizard!” the bloodline knight roared at the sky, grinding his teeth. Unfortunately, he had no way to fight in the air.

He could only watch helplessly as the spellcaster above him finished concentrating the instant-cast spell with incredible speed.

A red fireball, larger even than the silver moon, was lifted high in his hands and then hurled straight down toward the monastery entrance, at the most densely packed area of fugitives.

The bloodline knight subconsciously tried to activate his innate ability, only to realize with despair that his bloodline power had suddenly gone inert, no longer responding to his call.

Just as the massive fireball was about to strike him, in the final moment of his life, a furious curse filled with rage and disgust rang in his ears.

“To hell with you, witch hunters!”

Chapter 102: The Regular Army Declaration

Vaughn raised the bayonet on his Magical Energy Gun and brutally stabbed the vile orc writhing and wailing on the ground, one of its legs shot off.

Warm, foul-smelling blood splattered his pant leg, but Vaughn stomped his foot, unconcerned.

“After this battle, you won’t find a single sizable vile orc tribe in the river valley region,” Dav said with a hint of regret as he collected salvageable loot from the vile orc corpses. “It’s only the start of winter. To be honest, I kind of miss the days when they fought us to the death for control of the Icefield River…”

Vaughn grunted, not wanting to respond.

Ever since the outpost’s army had been equipped with the new sniper-type Magical Energy Guns developed by my lord, Commander Pierce had specifically selected a group of soldiers with excellent marksmanship to form a separate sniper squad, tasked with dealing with the Spellcasters among the vile orcs.

Vaughn had been eager, certain he was qualified to join.

Who would have thought Commander Pierce would ignore him completely, choosing the goofy-looking Dav instead?

He and Dav were the only two half-orcs in the veteran squad, so this made it seem as if Vaughn was the one who was disliked.

“I heard a rumor… after the fighting is over, aside from the soldiers staying behind at the River Valley Outpost, my lord only plans to keep a portion of the elite soldiers. Everyone else is going to be dismissed on the spot…” a veteran deputy squad leader whispered, sidling up to Vaughn to probe for information.

“Yeah, I hear they’re short on people over at the city wall construction site. They’re not going to make us go mess with bricks and stones, are they?” Dav chimed in. “The pay gap is huge! In the army, we get fish and meat every day, plus a stipend of one hundred and twenty gold yuan. What other job in the territory pays that well?”

Vaughn jabbed Dav in the waist with the butt of his gun. “Shut your mouth! Don’t spread rumors about things Commander Pierce hasn’t announced.”

Not far away, a messenger raised a recording magic stone and blew a whistle to assemble.

“Fall in! Fall in! All units, assemble and return to the Forward Bastion!”

…

Early the next morning, the sound of the assembly whistle echoed throughout the Forward Bastion.

Commander Pierce stood on a wooden platform in the assembly square, addressing the three hundred soldiers lined up in neat formation below. “After three months of training, three months of combat, and three months of rotational deployment, you have completed the transformation from civilians into experienced soldiers…”

His sharp gaze swept over the crowd. “Protecting Lord Harvey’s pioneer territories from the harm and plunder of vile orcs and greedy nobles—your achievements have earned the unanimous recognition of my lord and the residents!”

Hearing these words, many soldiers secretly puffed out their chests with pride.

“However, this militia force of yours will now be officially reorganized into Lord Harvey’s regular army. Those who were disabled by injury in battle, or who no longer wish to continue fighting, can register at the quartermaster’s office after we are dismissed. Lord Harvey has decreed that in addition to receiving your full stipend, you will also be given an extra three hundred gold yuan as, uh… severance pay.”

A few slight shifts rippled through the ranks, but no one whispered amongst themselves. That was discipline and order.

“Permission to speak!” someone shouted, raising a hand.

“Speak.”

“Does ‘regular army’ mean my lord will enfeoff us as knights? Will we be granted land and… and property?”

Dav couldn’t help but snort with laughter. Vaughn shot him a fierce glare, and Dav quickly pressed his lips together.

“What kind of pipe dream is that?” Pierce rolled his eyes. “Lord Harvey isn’t even a noble himself. Haven’t you all suffered enough at the hands of the nobility? What? You gain a little bit of skill and now you want to turn around and oppress and enslave others?”

The veteran who had asked the question lowered his head, his face flushing red. It was true that refugees had always hated nobles, but who could honestly say they had never dreamed of becoming a noble lord, lording their power over others and enjoying a life of luxury?

Pierce’s expression turned serious. “Never forget that you are warriors of common birth. The purpose for which you fight is to protect our own territory and people—all under the leadership of Lord Harvey, of course.”

“A regular army is made up of professional soldiers who fight only to protect my lord, my lord’s territory, and all the property and people within it.”

“While others are working in factories, you will be training and fighting. While others are farming the land, you will be training and fighting. While others are selling goods in the market, you will still be training and fighting…”

Another veteran timidly raised his hand and asked, “Then how is that any different from now?”

Pierce pulled a document from his coat, one Lord Harvey had prepared for him long ago. He cleared his throat and began to read aloud.

“The regular army will be subject to stricter training and evaluations, a stricter system of management, and more generous compensation!”

That last part made the eyes of every soldier below light up.

“The regular army will implement a system of advancement. Anyone who completes their combat missions, demonstrates outstanding performance, and strictly follows orders will have the opportunity to be promoted to an officer.” Pierce pointed to himself. “Just like me, leading an army.”

The soldiers could no longer contain themselves and began to whisper excitedly, their faces filled with fervor and excitement.

Pierce shook the document in his hand and continued his persuasive speech, “Officers will receive higher pay, as well as property—such as houses and shops—that can be earned through military merit…”

Vaughn, standing silently at the front of the formation, couldn’t help but frown. He wondered if he had misheard. Although there was no enfeoffment of land, weren’t houses and shops also property? What was the difference between this and being made a knight?

A cheer erupted from the crowd of soldiers. Pierce raised a hand to quiet them, his expression turning grave as he read the final passage from the document.

“But you must remember, once you become Lord Harvey’s regular army, the regulations you must obey will be far stricter than they are now. Mission failure, desertion in the face of the enemy, shameful treason, and violations of discipline will all be met with severe punishment. This isn’t just a matter of getting a whipping from me—the lightest sentence is imprisonment, the most severe is the death penalty. Furthermore, all previously acquired property and rewards will be confiscated.”

“Consider it carefully. If you wish to voluntarily withdraw, now is the time to change your mind.”

The soldiers were silent, but not a single person raised their hand to withdraw.

“Very good. From this moment on, you are Lord Harvey’s regular soldiers! But don’t forget, back in the main territory, there are nearly two thousand five hundred other soldiers just like you, all champing at the bit to compete…”

This military restructuring announcement from Lord Harvey was directed at all three thousand combat militia across the entire pioneer territories.

“Next, the soldiers whose names I call will step forward! You will be the first officer cadets and non-commissioned officers in this regular army…”

“Former Captain of the Sharpshooter Squad, Vaughn, step forward!”

“Former Squad Leader of the Sniper Squad, Dav, step forward!”

“Former Squad Leader of the Raven Ridge Sentry Post, Tommy, step forward!”

“Former Squad Leader of the Sniper Squad, Wayne, step forward!”

…

Chapter 103: The Army Reorganization Plan

After completing the plan to reform the pioneer territory’s private militia into a regular army system, Harvey threw himself into planning the territory’s development with great urgency.

Since the unexpected assassination attempt in the laboratory, Rainer was no longer comfortable relying solely on alchemical beasts for Harvey’s personal safety.

Now, whether Harvey was going out for the day or simply moving about within the castle, he was constantly flanked by two humanoid alchemical beasts. These were Giant Ape Beasts that Rainer had personally trained for the specific purpose of providing round-the-clock close protection.

In addition to this, fifty soldiers—all with clean records and from the first batch of refugees to join the territory—were carefully selected from the regular army to serve as Harvey’s second layer of security, guarding the castle, its surroundings, and the laboratory.

Even previously overlooked locations, such as the sewer and ventilation pipes leading to the castle, now had dedicated soldiers patrolling them in shifts.

Harvey sat in his warm study, where a fire roared in the fireplace and hot water pipes ran through the walls, organizing and writing down his work plan while idly chatting with Tommy, the newly appointed Captain of the Lord’s Guard, a young officer nicknamed the “Quick-witted one.”

“Does it usually snow this heavily in the Northern Barren Lands?”

Tommy nodded and answered with honest sincerity, “My lord, it’s like this almost every winter in the Northern Barren Lands. The heavy snow can turn the entire landscape into a pure white hell, where both people and livestock freeze or starve to death in large numbers…”

Harvey sighed at his words. No wonder the vile orcs had to raid the south every winter. If life was this difficult for a race at the top of the barren lands’ food chain, it was even more unimaginable for the refugees.

In the month or so since winter had set in, the territory had frequently experienced various work and production accidents due to the cold and snowstorms. The simple, compacted earthen roads had become incredibly muddy from the snow, and even the alchemical camel-beasts would occasionally get stuck and require rescue. The underground drainage system in the Residential Area froze completely overnight, backing up into the residences and causing all sorts of chaos on several occasions.

Fortunately, the heating and ventilation project he had planned and implemented before winter had not been delayed. Now, every household had a thermal boiler driven by large alchemical beasts, which provided direct heating to the houses through metal water pipes. Otherwise, with only the simple fireplaces in their homes, many people would have likely suffered from frostbite or fallen ill this winter.

Once winter passed and the snow melted, he would have to consider paving the territory’s roads with cement and gravel to avoid repeating this winter’s disastrous experience.

But for now, the most pressing priority was to flesh out the details of the regular army reform plan and implement it by issuing a series of detailed regulations regarding structure, rules, and standards for rewards, punishments, and advancement.

As a child, Harvey had played many war-themed video games, but he had no real-world knowledge on the subject. He could only rely on the cognition and understanding of a modern person to fabricate a completely new plan for military reorganization.

The pioneer territory currently maintained a total of three thousand soldiers who had received training and had combat experience.

Therefore, Harvey didn’t want to make the army structure overly complex. For the time being, he would divide them into two independent formations, named the Defense Army and the Northern Army. One would be responsible for the territory’s defense, and the other for offensive operations.

The structure of the units would be based on battalions, squads, and groups. A group would consist of ten men, a squad would consist of ten groups, and a battalion would consist of ten squads, totaling one thousand men.

From his perspective as a transmigrator from Earth who was well-versed in the history of world warfare, the overall combat level of the ordinary people of all races in this world, excluding Spellcasters, was basically on the scale of a village brawl.

Even battles between Spellcasters were, at best, a magical version of a village brawl.

The Mage Corps in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, formed by the allied forces of the Federation and the wizard kingdom, consisted of a mere five hundred mid-rank Spellcasters, yet it was already the most elite Spellcaster combat group on the Southern Continent.

And these common soldiers of his, who were battle-hardened and extremely experienced with Magical Energy Guns, could, in a sense, be considered on par with the Mage Corps. The only slight difference was the method of delivering magical attacks.

The energy beam bullets from the Magical Energy Guns weren’t much less damaging than a mid-rank Spellcaster’s instant-cast fireball.

One was just a single-target piercing attack, while the other was a single-target area-of-effect attack.

As for the army’s rules and discipline, they were very simple. Absolute loyalty to the lord was, of course, a given, along with the tenets of always obeying a superior’s orders, no deserting in battle, no betrayal, and so on.

But Harvey placed special emphasis on one rule in particular—an absolute prohibition on private looting and harassing civilians.

In this era, every noble knightly order and every conscripted army of commoners and mercenaries had a common failing: in order to boost morale during combat, they tended to indulge their subordinates in rampant looting and harassment of the populace.

Although Harvey’s main adversaries for the time being were the non-human vile orcs, this rule had to be established as a clear red line from the start to prevent irreversible and dire situations from arising later.

There would come a time when his army would need to cross the Spine of the Continent Mountains and step foot into the southern kingdoms and noble fiefs, especially since he had completely offended Earl Fegan of Grizzly Bear Territory.

But the primal greed inherent in human nature could not be completely eradicated or changed by a mere piece of paper. Discipline and punishment alone were not enough; they had to be accompanied by a corresponding system of rewards and honors, providing ample comfort to these self-restrained soldiers who strictly abided by the rules, both materially and spiritually.

The rewards had to be real gold and silver and fixed property, tangibly placed in the hands of those willing to play by the rules. These people would then, for the sake of their own interests and assets, cling tightly to him and firmly plant their roots in the pioneer territory. Anyone who wished to harm or overthrow Harvey would face fierce resistance from this interest group.

The addition of honors was a form of positive moral coercion. It could be the cheers and support of the territory’s people, or various nominal titles within the army. In short, as long as it satisfied the soldiers’ vanity, it was enough to inspire them to eagerly become moral paragons.

The rewards were fixed on property such as houses and shops mainly because Harvey believed that the farmland still needed to be cultivated centrally using alchemical beasts to maximize output. If the land were divided and awarded to individual families, it could easily lead to a decrease in farming efficiency, which would be a net loss.

Besides, he had no desire to cultivate a military aristocracy—nobles who had risen through military merit and possessed large private landholdings. Such a group would gradually become detached from the common people, turning into a new noble class in opposition to the general populace of the territory.

Therefore, rewarding them with houses and shops was most appropriate. It was equivalent to giving the individual or their family a fixed asset in addition to their military stipend, ensuring that the soldier would have a hefty retirement pension to draw from even after leaving the service.

“This is basically skipping past the feudal system and stepping into the nascent stages of capitalism…”

Harvey put down the quill he was using to write the regulations and couldn’t help but mutter to himself.

In the future, there would be no more traditional feudal nobles in his territory. Instead, a large group of property-owning—a class of rentiers—would emerge.

The landlords and landladies he had hated most in his past life were now being personally pushed onto the stage of history by none other than himself.

Chapter 104: Funeral and Advancement

A funeral was being held on a stretch of lawn, a clearing that had been specially cut out southeast of the pioneer territories’ walls.

The clearing was close to the Farm on the eastern side of the territory. Standing on the slightly elevated gentle slope, one could see flat farmland in the distance, where several enormous agricultural alchemical beasts, operated by farm workers, traversed the black, fertile fields.

The lawn wasn’t very large, about the same size as the town square in front of the Lord’s Castle. The only difference was the low wall of piled cobblestones surrounding it, which could only stop the herds grazing on the hillside; an ordinary person could vault over it with a single hand.

Vaughn stood shoulder to shoulder with two of his newly promoted military colleagues. They wore brand-new black winter uniforms that had just been issued, with a pure white frostflower pinned to their chests. This flower was unique to the Northern Barren Lands and only bloomed in winter.

He had never heard of a ritual like a funeral. In his memory, only when a noble or a high priest of the vile orcs died would a pyre be built to burn their bodies. Afterward, their scorched skulls would be collected to be used as offerings in future sacrificial rites.

As for ordinary half-orcs or human wanderers, they would never hold a funeral. They always lived in constant fear and died in silence, like weeds in the barren lands’ wind.

The luckier ones might be secretly carried to a secluded spot by their relatives and buried in a shallow grave, but they would surely be dug up and eaten by wild beasts after nightfall.

The unlucky ones, their bodies not yet cold, would be dragged back to the vile orcs’ tents to serve as an extra winter meal.

But today, he had been instructed to represent the entire army, along with two other battalion commanders of the same rank, to attend the funeral for a dozen or so ordinary soldiers who had died in battle.

Vaughn actually knew the stories of these soldiers well.

One was a veteran recruited at the same time as him. During a battle with the vile orcs, he was tackled up close and had his head lopped off with an ax because he couldn’t reload his ammunition in time.

Another had snuck out of the Forward Bastion in the middle of the night with his comrades, trying to retrieve the body of a fallen friend from the giant corpse puppets, only to end up leaving his own body there as well.

Another was a new recruit who had only been in the army for a month before being rotated to the River Valley Outpost. In his first engagement, he had the worst luck imaginable and was pierced through the heart by a bone spear. He died before he could even reach the medical station.

…

Most of them were just like him, single men from the barren lands struggling to survive. Forget starting a family and raising children, most had never even touched a woman’s hand.

A few of them had families, with a wife and several well-fed children. The youngest had been born after they arrived in the territory and couldn’t even walk yet.

If this had happened before, his wife and children would have faced a miserable fate. The woman might have been able to find another man to get by, but the children would have been considered burdens who wasted food. They would usually be taken out into the wilderness in the dead of night and abandoned, becoming an easy meal for nocturnal beasts.

But My lord Harvey seemed to pay special attention to the widows and orphans left behind by these fallen soldiers. Not only did he fulfill the promise he made when establishing the regular army—to give their families a generous… uh, pension.

He also provided their children with free admission to public schools and gave them an extra monthly ration of food and charcoal.

This meant that the families of these fallen soldiers could support their children even without working, until they graduated from school as adults. They would be literate and able to get a high-paying job in one of those factories he didn’t understand, earning a salary comparable to an officer’s.

No wonder even a simpleton like Dav couldn’t help but exclaim his envy out loud.

Even he felt a little envious of such treatment… Er, damn it! Vaughn shook his head violently, trying desperately to drive such a brutish thought from his mind.

He had no desire to die an unlucky death on the battlefield, only for his wife to become someone else’s!

Wait a minute! Vaughn suddenly remembered he didn’t have a wife… He’d never even touched a woman’s hand!

…

Mr. Astaren was officiating the soldiers’ funeral. The eulogy was a bit too long, and Vaughn only caught a few phrases he could understand.

Something like, “For sacrificing themselves to protect their homes and loved ones, we will remember them forever…”

And, “The souls of soldiers who fight bravely will surely return to the territory…”

These words made Vaughn feel a warmth spreading through his chest, and his eyes and nose began to sting. The people who had been bustling about, alive and well before him not long ago, were now all contained in small ceramic urns.

It had been inconvenient to transport the bodies of the fallen soldiers back to the territory, so after they were personally collected, they were cremated and their ashes brought back.

The final part of the funeral was the burial. The ceramic urns were placed neatly in a pre-dug pit. Mr. Astaren had all the officer representatives line up according to their rank and position to take turns shoveling a scoop of dirt into the pit.

Vaughn, at the head of the line, was first. He was now the most senior of the three battalion-level officers, so naturally, he was at the front.

He gripped the shovel and plunged it into the mound of dirt before him. It felt inexplicably heavy in his hands. The dozens of officers standing silently in line behind him watched him, making him slow his movements involuntarily.

After tossing in a scoop of dirt, he couldn’t resist taking the white frostflower from his chest and gently placing it on the stone tombstone erected in front of the pit. He only recognized a few of the characters on the tombstone—they were probably their names.

Vaughn knew that many soldiers born as wanderers didn’t have full names. They were usually called by whatever easy-to-remember nickname was at hand. But when the lord was compiling the list of the fallen, he had, with a wave of his hand, given them all new given names and surnames.

Mr. Astaren said that this way, even decades from now, when people came to pay their respects, they wouldn’t get their identities mixed up.

How wonderful, Vaughn thought.

If his final resting place was also here, then he too would have the honor of receiving a surname personally bestowed by My lord Harvey. He had never had a surname before; it seemed his father and grandfather hadn’t either.

It would be nice if he could take “Floyd” as his surname after death. No, no, his status was too lowly. He couldn’t tarnish My lord Harvey’s surname…

…

After the funeral, Astaren hurried back to the Lord’s Castle to report to Harvey.

“My lord, the soldiers’ funeral is complete.” His expression seemed somewhat complex. “While I was officiating the ceremony, I observed some rather interesting behaviors and attitudes from the officers…”

Harvey put down his quill, looking up with a hint of curiosity. “Oh? Shouldn’t a funeral be solemn and dignified? Why would you find their behavior and attitudes interesting?”

“No, that’s not it,” Astaren said, shaking his head, seemingly unable to describe his feelings accurately. “I can’t quite put my finger on it… In the past, I have never seen any noble or high-ranking wizard treat lowly commoners this way.”

Harvey burst out laughing. “That’s to be expected. I’m neither a noble nor some ancient high-ranking wizard.”

He pressed Astaren down onto the sofa and explained with a grin, “But you think their reactions and attitudes were quite good, don’t you?”

Before Astaren could answer, he continued on his own, “This is what I told you about—another way of winning people’s hearts… It’s different from rewarding them with money, but the goal is the same.”

Harvey’s ultimate goal was to make these soldiers of common birth begin to think about and understand why they were fighting.

When they understand that fighting bravely and defending their homes can earn them the same noble honor as a knight, that they too will be constantly praised and long remembered.

Then this army, composed entirely of commoners, will undergo an unimaginable ideological transformation.

Chapter 105: The Way of the Knight

As Yuliao walked out of the Territory’s Infirmary, carrying a small bag with a change of clothes, he noticed that more than a dozen residents were methodically clearing the streets, which had previously been buried in snow.

The cold sunlight reflected off the piles of snow, its glare so bright that he couldn’t help but narrow his eyes.

Due to the assassination attempt at the laboratory, he had unfortunately been stabbed through the lung. He had thought his luck had finally run out, that unlike when he lost his hand, he wouldn’t be able to just tough it out with his strong constitution.

Who would have known that after being carried to the infirmary, under Egnor’s meticulous care, he would fully recover in less than half a month.

It was just that the process of his treatment had been somewhat terrifying.

His wound had been sutured by a horrifying metal monster with four mechanical arms and glowing red eyes.

Every day, people dressed in pure white smocks, their mouths and noses covered with matching cotton cloths, would inject a strange, pale green liquid from a glass tube tipped with a steel needle into his body.

…

While Yuliao was standing dazed at the infirmary entrance, a municipal official in a dark blue uniform, leading a few soldiers, suddenly approached him. “You’re Yuliao, correct?” the official asked. “How is your recovery? The lord wishes to see you.”

The lord? Did the lord want to hold him accountable for leading the assassin into the laboratory?

Although Yuliao’s mind was reeling, he subconsciously followed the municipal official to the castle. Two soldiers stationed in the main hall stepped forward and searched him thoroughly, not even sparing his crotch or the soles of his feet.

He was then led upstairs into a lavish room, carpeted with thick plush rugs and as warm as spring.

“This is the lord’s study. We’ll wait here. His Lordship has just woken up and is still having breakfast…”

In each of the four corners of the small room stood a humanoid metal monster. Their deep red eyes were fixed unblinkingly on Yuliao, making him feel as tense as if he had needles at his back.

Fortunately, his unease didn’t last long. When Lord Harvey entered the room, all the soldiers and alchemical beasts bowed in unison.

Yuliao quickly recalled the etiquette he had learned during his knight training and knelt on one knee to salute the lord.

“I’ve already looked into what happened with you…” a gentle voice came from above. It was Harvey, who had just taken his seat behind the desk. “To bravely cry out and warn me, even while under duress, is a true testament to your loyalty…”

The word “loyalty” reached Yuliao’s ears, and his eyes instantly stung as his throat tightened. “My lord… I-I was only following the… character expected of a knight.”

Harvey chuckled and teased, “But as I recall, you are not a formally invested knight.”

Yuliao’s face instantly flushed red, and he stammered, “I… I haven’t saved up enough for the offering required for investiture. I’m not a noble, nor am I descended from a knight, so…”

Harvey cut off his shamefaced explanation, comforting him, “A knight’s title is merely a name. True courage is having the bravery to face evil, to fight injustice, and to protect the weak. I’m sure you possess all of these qualities.”

Wolfer, who was taken to the town square three days ago and publicly hanged, had confessed everything clearly during his interrogation. Their original plan had two parts: one was to coerce Yuliao, who was familiar with the ventilation tunnels, to lead the way and plant false evidence in the laboratory; the other was to assassinate Harvey when the time was right.

This conspiracy from Grizzly Keep resulted in the innocent death of a night patrol soldier. If not for the Territory’s Infirmary having medical alchemical beasts and a master of healing arts like Egnor, Yuliao would have also died from his severe injuries.

Once Yuliao’s emotions had settled a little, Harvey continued, “I myself am not a nobleman, so I cannot knight you for your service.”

He paused, then added, “But I’m sure you’ve heard that Wolfer, the villain who stabbed you, was executed three days ago. His body is still hanging from the gallows in the town square as a public example.”

Yuliao bowed low and answered sincerely, “My lord, you’ve already saved my life. I am eternally grateful and dare not ask for any title or reward…”

Harvey waved his hand, signaling a nearby guard to help him up from the floor. “A deserved reward cannot be denied. Since you’ve had formal knight training in the past, I have a few questions to test you.”

Yuliao looked up, puzzled, wondering, Is the lord going to test my combat skills, or my knowledge of knightly etiquette?

“What is your opinion of the traditional nobles of today? Don’t feel you have to be perfunctory or afraid to answer. Just speak the truth.”

The Probationary Knight froze for a moment. He lowered his head in thought before answering carefully, “The nobles come from established families. The status their bloodline grants them makes them worlds apart from commoners like us. But it seems they have never truly valued the honor and reputation that comes with their station. Most are lost in the pursuit of money and pleasure, treating the suffering of the people as if it were nothing…”

He paused again. It was as if he had been holding his breath for a long time, and now he was finally letting it all out without restraint. “Those landed knights… most have never followed the true way of the knight. They vie for power and profit, allow their squires to bully the common folk, seek personal gain in the squabbles between nobles, and loot the people wantonly in times of war.”

“To me, that kind of knighthood and title is a betrayal and a disgrace. I have no desire for it!”

Harvey clapped his hands in appreciation, thinking to himself, This young man’s ideological awareness is quite high.

He stood up and walked over to Yuliao. He made a show of reaching out to adjust the collar of Yuliao’s worn cotton tunic, and in doing so, his gaze fell upon the man’s empty sleeve.

Yuliao noticed the lord’s gaze and, feeling a pang of insecurity, quickly moved his severed arm behind his back in a subconscious effort to hide it.

“Rest well. I heard your lung was punctured. Even though you’re out of the infirmary, be careful not to catch a chill.” Harvey’s concerned tone made Yuliao’s eyes redden with emotion, but his next words made Yuliao’s eyes fly open in disbelief.

“After the Winter Festival, I will formally recruit you into the Territory Defense Army. You will serve as the army’s Political Instructor. What do you say? Will you accept?”

“M-my lord… I’m a cripple… Can I still join your army? And… a Political Instructor? What kind of military position is that? I… I’ve never heard of it before.”

Harvey couldn’t help but roar with laughter. He clapped Yuliao firmly on the shoulder. “It means you’ll join my army and teach my soldiers what the true way of the knight is!”

Without a trace of mockery or discrimination, he took hold of Yuliao’s disabled arm and made a solemn promise, “Rest assured, the medical technology at the Territory’s Infirmary is advancing rapidly. One day, we will find a way to fix your severed arm. After all, we have many soldiers who have been maimed in battle.”

Hearing this, Yuliao’s eyes instantly brightened. Filled with anticipation, he asked, “My lord, is that true? Can my arm really be restored? Then… then will I have the chance to wield your powerful magical weapons and fight bravely for you and the people of this territory?”

“Of course. The position of Political Instructor requires one to lead the way, inspire the soldiers’ morale, and always be at the forefront of the charge.”

Harvey explained with a wide smile.

My army’s Political Commissar, of course, must lead the charge!

Chapter 106: Winter Festival

The pioneer territory’s Winter Festival was officially scheduled to be held on the last day of winter.

It signaled the end of the harsh cold and the coming of a new, vibrant spring.

Three days in advance, the municipal department began clearing the snow from the streets. Colourfully dyed banners were hung at the entrances of every factory, shop, and government building, transforming the territory’s uniformly gray concrete architecture into a vibrant spectacle.

A notice was posted early in the town square announcing that on the day of the festival, in addition to the traditional shooting competition for sharpshooters, there would also be a grand fair. Anyone could participate for free, winning various prizes and food through games and competitions.

Early in the morning, Old Man Kolun got up and started getting himself ready, constantly rushing Yuliao to wash up and eat so they could go to the Winter Festival together. If they were late, they wouldn’t get a good spot in the front row to watch the shooting competition.

“Dad, your leg problem isn’t completely cured yet. You shouldn’t be pushing your way into crowded places.”

The news that Yuliao would be joining the Territory Defense Army after the new year had spread quickly through the military. Several high-ranking officers from the Defense Army had already visited him, each subtly showing their goodwill.

It was through these connections that he had asked someone to get him some magic potions from the infirmary to treat the increasingly severe sores on Old Man Kolun’s feet.

Fortunately, the potion concocted by Lord Egnor was remarkably effective. In just two days, several of the festering sores on Old Man Kolun’s feet had begun to heal and scab over.

Watching Old Man Kolun, who still walked with a slight limp, stubbornly insist on attending the Winter Festival, Yuliao could only smile wryly and accompany him out the door, joining the bustling crowd heading towards the town square.

…

The wide square in front of the Lord’s Castle had already been cleared of inappropriate temporary facilities like the gallows, leaving only the wooden stands for Harvey and other high-ranking territory officials to watch the festivities.

Two rows of Territory Defense Army soldiers in charge of the lord’s security stood around the stands. Dressed in crisp, thick, black military uniforms and carrying gleaming silver magical energy long guns, they stood as straight as javelins in formation, securely encircling the stand where Lord Harvey was seated.

Several open temporary shelters had been set up on the square’s open ground. The most bustling of these was already surrounded inside and out by residents who had come for the festival—it was the booth for distributing prizes and food from the fair.

“Don’t push, don’t push! Only children who aren’t yet adults are eligible for one free fried chicken leg. Everyone else has to participate in the fair and win rewards to exchange for food!” The staff member in charge of distributing food was sweating profusely despite the winter chill. Aided by soldiers maintaining order, he desperately repeated the festival rules to the gathering crowd.

The staff member at the adjacent prize booth was also drenched in sweat, waving his hands and shouting himself hoarse. “Participate in the fair activities—ring toss, stone throwing, riddle guessing, word puzzles… get prize tickets, then come back here to redeem your prizes…”

As he spoke, he held up various prizes for display. “Take a look, everyone! These are gloves made of reindeer hide, truly high-end goods. You can get them for free with just twenty prize tickets, without spending a single copper, just by playing the games…”

“And this, a double-layered rabbit fur winter hat. Wear it, and you won’t have to worry about your ears freezing off on a night out. Just eighteen prize tickets…”

“Mead, freshly brewed by the Farm this autumn. A mellow and fragrant taste that lingers. The perfect thing to reward yourself with after a long day’s work, especially paired with smoked venison—it’s divine! You can get a bottle for just ten prize tickets!”

With every prize the staff member introduced, the onlookers erupted in cheers. More people immediately turned and headed for the game booths, champing at the bit to get in line, play, and win these tempting rewards.

In the very center of the square, a huge bonfire pit had been built from stacked stones. Several strong soldiers carried over a dozen spice-marinated cattle and sheep, skewering them whole and setting them to roast over the fire, turning them continuously.

Chefs from the food processing plant held various seasonings, their faces shiny with grease from the heat of the roaring charcoal fire, as they constantly basted the beef and mutton with spices. The tantalizing aroma of roasting meat could be smelled from far away.

…

Harvey sat on the viewing stand, draped in a thick bear-pelt greatcoat. A heated pail had been placed under his fur-lined armchair to ensure the physically frail lord wouldn’t catch a cold in the dead of winter.

He watched with a smile as the crowded square swarmed with people eagerly surrounding the fair’s game booths. Amidst the loud clamor and laughter, they played the various fun games he had invented.

It seemed that the premise of exchanging game participation for free food and prizes was highly appealing. On the day of the festival, everyone except for the Defense Army on security detail and the staff on duty at the infirmary had the day off. The festival’s fair had drawn at least two-thirds of the territory’s residents, packing the square to the gills.

The reason for expending a large amount of stored food and goods to hold this festival was a question Harvey had long been pondering and planning—how to enhance the people’s sense of belonging and loyalty to their home.

These former displaced wanderers from the barren lands, who used to live hand-to-mouth, wouldn’t understand concepts like identity and loyalty in such a short time. A year ago, they couldn’t even recognize a single character on the public notice boards. All they cared about was whether they could eat their fill each day and whether they would freeze to death at night. The more ignorant and backward they were, the more short-sighted they became—it was an inevitable law of societal development.

But things were completely different now. These residents, who now had stable jobs, homes, and savings, had begun to develop a concept of home. They understood that their interests were inextricably tied to those of the territory’s lord; they would prosper or suffer together.

And Harvey had progressively reinforced this concept of home with punctual and full payment of wages, continuous improvements to the territory’s infrastructure, and the popularization of literacy education. As long as this continued steadily for three to five years, it would become a consensus and tradition in everyone’s hearts. The people living in the territory would eventually realize that under Lord Harvey’s leadership, they were living a hundred times more happily than the lowly commoners elsewhere.

“Without comparison, there is no pain…”

…

The fair activities continued in full swing until noon, and the enthusiasm of the residents, who won food and prizes by playing all sorts of strange and interesting games, showed no signs of waning.

People sat in small groups around the bonfires in the square, holding their own packed rations or the food they had won as rewards, laughing and chatting loudly as they ate.

The Northern Army, to which Dav and Vaughn belonged, was not responsible for security at the Winter Festival. Plus, having just returned from their deployment at the River Valley Outpost, they were entitled to a day of leave according to army regulations.

“Hmph! Those guys from the municipal department recognized me. They wouldn’t let me play the stone-throwing game, said it was unfair to the others…” Dav and Vaughn weren’t in their officer uniforms today, but the sharp-eyed fair organizer had spotted them and politely turned them away.

Vaughn was eating a wheat cake filled with fatty minced meat, his mouth glistening with grease. “It’s a shame we only get to eat such good stuff during the Winter Festival. If the army served this every day, you could drag me here to participate, and I’d still be too lazy to come.”

He pointed a greasy finger at the residents gathered around the ring toss and stone-throwing stalls. Watching their clumsy, skewed throws, he couldn’t help but mock, “We’re soldiers from the Sharpshooter Squad. If we played with these amateur clods, would we even be giving them a chance? We’d clean out all the prizes…”

Wayne squeezed through the crowd from behind and urged them in a low voice, “Hurry back to the barracks and change into your uniforms. The shooting competition this afternoon is the main event. What? You want to lose to those softies from the Defense Army who’ve never seen blood?”

After Vaughn’s advancement to battalion commander of the Northern Army, Dav and Wayne had also been promoted to Captain, each commanding a squad of one hundred soldiers.

The cliques of old and new soldiers still existed, but now it had transformed into a subtle rivalry and competition between the Northern Army, responsible for foreign operations, and the Territory Defense Army, responsible for guarding the territory.

Vaughn had taken first place in the last shooting competition. The lord himself had awarded him an exquisite medal, which he now wore proudly on his left breast, constantly showing it off. It truly made several of the newly promoted battalion commanders in the Defense Army burn with envy.

We all came from the same place. You, Vaughn, just joined the army a bit earlier. What gives you the right to be a step above everyone else?

The festival’s shooting competition was the perfect opportunity for the up-and-coming new soldiers and the Defense Army to launch a counterattack and give these veterans of the Northern Army a show of force to intimidate newcomers.

They were all elite marksmen, nurtured one magic bullet at a time. Who could be that much worse than anyone else?

…

When it came to the shooting competition that afternoon, however, the group was immediately hit by a new rule announced personally by the lord himself.

“Regardless of whether you are in the Northern Army or the Territory Defense Army, any officer with the rank of Captain or higher is not permitted to participate in this shooting competition. This is to give the newer soldiers an opportunity to showcase their abilities.”

“Damn it all. They’re not letting the veterans compete. The new rookies below us might not be able to beat the experienced soldiers in the Defense Army!” Dav grumbled in a low voice. These veterans naturally treated the lord’s orders as gospel, but the chance to perform in front of Harvey and receive his praise was a far more important goal for them.

“What do we do? I don’t think any of the team leaders below are as accurate as us…” Wayne also began to ponder with a frown.

Vaughn scanned the team leaders gathered around them, and every single one of them seemed astonishingly green.

The team leaders all hunched their shoulders and lowered their heads nervously like chicks, not daring to step forward and promise victory under the fierce gazes of their superiors.

Tommy “the Quick-witted one,” who was also a captain, squeezed in with a grin and said in a low voice, “I found out who the Defense Army is sending to compete. Want me to get someone to lure those top guys to the public latrine and then…” He made a gesture with his hand as if he were going to shove someone into a manure bucket.

“The Northern Army does not engage in such shameless, underhanded schemes!” Vaughn knew Tommy was thinking up another one of his crooked ideas and immediately reprimanded him sternly. “If we lose, we’ll just have to keep our heads down for a few days. The moment we get a new combat mission, we’ll naturally be able to put them back in their place.”

Tommy didn’t get angry after being scolded. Still smiling, he pulled over a short soldier who looked even younger than himself.

“His name is Zhugao. He’s a soldier in my squad. His aim is even better than mine. He used to be a hunter and relied on his superb skill with a blowgun. He never went hungry in the barren lands…”

Wayne’s eyes lit up. He yanked the soldier, who looked barely of age, over to him, scaring the boy so much he almost retracted his head into his oversized military collar.

“Damn it, I’ve heard of you. Zhugao, right? You’re our main competitor for the match!” He grabbed Dav, who was standing there in a daze, and pointed at the gleaming new officer’s leather boots on his feet. “See these? Captain Dav’s boots, a custom model for non-commissioned officers. He has another identical pair at home. If you perform well, he’ll give them to you as a private reward!”

Dav nodded along, then slowly scratched the back of his head as he processed what was happening. “Dammit, why are you using my things as a reward? Don’t you have your own? You dog!”

Chapter 107: Anonymous Consignment

Fell Hoden had just returned to Da’ers when he saw the handle “Eye of Illusion” on the Magic Net Forum.

“Hmph! I knew it. That guy wasn’t helping me for free.”

“Mithril Unicorn” giving him the anti-magic-nullification device to take to Barkley, instead of giving it to Fell, who was also a Forum member, was enough to show that he was already a candidate for new membership.

Fell didn’t see any issue with it. The fact that Mr. Turing had approved the other’s application for membership was, in itself, an acknowledgment of his performance during the recent act of vengeance.

But he hadn’t logged into the Forum today to catch up and build a rapport with the new member, “Eye of Illusion.”

Instead, it was because a brand-new section had appeared on the Forum—Anonymous Consignment.

Hoden was a bit confused. The Forum itself was already an anonymous form of communication. As long as members didn’t meet privately in the real world, there was no need to add this extra anonymous trading section.

But when he actually entered the newly unlocked interface for this new section of the Forum, he realized how utterly wrong he’d been.

“By the Elements! They dare to put this stuff up for sale?”

“Isn’t this a fucking research field explicitly banned by the Federation? How can they trade research results like this?”

With his messy, deep-red curly hair, Fell stared in astonishment, his mouth agape, as he scrolled through the rapidly refreshing trade listings in the Anonymous Consignment section.

Life Alchemy, Cursing Arts, Sacrificial Arts, Demon Summoning Arts…

Dark magic stones, wraith puppets, aberrant demonic beasts… he even saw someone consigning a live Demon captive.

To think that this group of high-level casters on the Forum, who all seemed so prim and proper on a normal day, were into such wild things behind the scenes!

Fell couldn’t help but recall how sneaky and pathetic he’d been when he first joined the Forum, arranging a clandestine deal with the “Man in the Mirror” for a death magic artifact crafted from a Demon shaman’s skull.

He discovered that upon entering the Anonymous Consignment section of the Forum, all member handles turned into blurry, mercurial points of light. He could see them flickering actively, but he couldn’t make out their names.

Moreover, the most popular arts and items in the section were listed at the very top of the trade categories. The text for their listings was even thoughtfully changed to a conspicuous bold red font, tempting people to click and view them.

The listing for the live Demon captive was currently pinned right at the very top.

Fell couldn’t resist tapping the “Magic Brain’s” crystal screen to view the detailed trade information.

After all, the Demons were a high-level intelligent race, just like humans. If one could be used for magical experiments, the feedback would surely be far superior to that from low-intelligence lesser demons or rock goblins.

Normally, to obtain a test subject of this quality, one would have to personally visit the battlefronts in the Evil Moon Mountain Range where the Demons were active. It wasn’t something easily acquired.

This was because of the Demons’ innate racial talent—Flesh and Blood Detonation—which made capturing them alive extremely difficult.

The detailed trade interface was completely different from what Fell had imagined. It wasn’t purely text-based like the Information Exchange section.

It actually included a video clip, similar to what a Recording Stone would display, which played on a continuous loop on the crystal screen.

The video showed a weak Demon, bound tightly to a metal experimentation table with chains, struggling feebly.

“Clearly injected with a large dose of anesthetic potions, or has had a weakening spell cast on it…” the experienced Fell immediately assessed.

A question suddenly struck him. The Forum’s teleportation array had always been unable to transport living creatures that exceeded a certain size and weight. This Demon clearly surpassed the array’s limits. How had the Forum solved this transportation problem?

“Could it be that the Forum’s Magic Net teleportation array has been upgraded again?”

A thought, one he found somewhat incredible himself, began to form in his mind…

If this continued, could Forum members themselves be able to use the Magic Net teleportation array to achieve indiscriminate, instantaneous teleportation across the entire continent in the future?

Wouldn’t that mean that whenever an event occurred that required the joint effort of members in the real world—something everyone on the Forum agreed on—the Forum could instantly teleport a group of the spellcasting world’s top high-level casters to a designated location at any time?

If this technology, which was ahead of its time, were acquired by the Federation and the Wizard’s Alliance, would the brutal war with the Demons that had been deadlocked for a hundred years even exist? They would probably push all the way to the Demons’ lair deep in the Northern Realm in a matter of minutes.

“I wonder if those few members with Federation backgrounds, and Master… have noticed this issue like I have,” Fell murmured to himself, running a hand through his messy hair with a sigh.

…

Harvey, who had just launched the Forum’s new service, was enthusiastically monitoring the progress of the Anonymous Consignment section’s launch.

This Forum section was essentially a functional upgrade he had implemented while building the Information Exchange section. Its main purpose was to facilitate his own future illicit trades that couldn’t be conducted out in the open.

At the same time, he also wanted to test whether the instantaneous teleportation array’s capacity for transporting living creatures could be increased now that another Planet-level Energy-gathering Array had been added to the Magic Net.

Not long ago, he and Rainer had experimented with some larger beasts and captured vile orcs. There hadn’t been any transmission issues, though the larger creatures generally experienced adverse reactions like fainting and vomiting after the cross-planar teleportation. These were all acceptable side effects.

“I never expected that once we entered the anonymous trading phase, these Forum members would actually have so much contraband to offer…”

As the Forum’s Administrator, Harvey could, of course, clearly see the real trade information of every Forum member.

Especially Mr. “Man in the Mirror” from the Alchemical Exploration Society, who had completely let loose after entering the anonymous section.

First, he had lavishly purchased several types of prohibited research materials related to flesh alchemy experiments. Then, he turned around and put up several of his own phased results from soul decomposition experiments, which were clearly not meant for public viewing.

“Doesn’t your Alchemical Exploration Society usually research and manufacture magic weapons? Why are you all like mad scientists in private?” Harvey’s lips twitched as he tried to suppress a laugh.

A one-way communication symbol flashed on the “Magic Brain” device’s crystal screen, diverting Harvey’s attention.

“Is that Mr. Mind Devil? Why is he suddenly contacting me?” Harvey was puzzled. Ever since that time he had spoken up abruptly at the meeting, causing an uproar and speculation among the members, this seemingly polite Demon gentleman had appeared somewhat ashamed of himself and hadn’t shown up on the Forum for a long time. He hadn’t expected him to suddenly seek him out today.

[Kel’Thuzad: Long time no see, Mr. Mind Hunter.]

[Mind Hunter: Hello, Mr. Locator. Please forgive me for contacting you so presumptuously again…]

This Mind Devil didn’t seem to like using Harvey’s Forum handle, preferring the title “Locator” that he himself had given Harvey when they first met on the Magic Net.

[Mind Hunter: I’ve observed an interesting anonymous trading event on the Forum. I was wondering how I might participate?]

The message made Harvey’s heart skip a beat. A Demon whose true self was in another dimension wanted to participate in the anonymous trading? Would an ancient race that could only intrude upon the real world through projections really be interested in items traded by spellcasters?

[Mind Hunter: Although I cannot perceive your thoughts in real-time across the spatial planes, I surmise you are wondering why a Demon would be interested in mortal objects, correct?]

Harvey rolled his eyes, speechless. So this guy’s racial talent could even be used across planes. The saying that Demons were adept at discerning and seeing through human nature was really true.

[Kel’Thuzad: I am indeed curious, but if it’s inconvenient for you to say, I don’t mind. The Forum operates on the principle of equivalent exchange. You first need to acquire points, which you can then use to purchase the items you need…]

The other party’s handle flashed slowly, as if he were trying to comprehend the series of Forum trading rules Harvey had explained. After a long while, a reply finally came.

[Mind Hunter: Understood. What I wish to anonymously consign is—a high-level demon sacrificial summoning ritual. The target of the summoning ritual… is me…]

Chapter 108: The Origin of Demons

[Kel’Thuzad: Pardon me, but I’d like to confirm—the item you want to put up for Anonymous Consignment is… a summoning ritual for a high-level demon, and the target of said ritual is… yourself?]

As Harvey typed this line on the “Magic Brain” device, he could hardly believe it himself.

This demon Mr. from another dimension wanted to sell a sacrificial ritual to summon himself on the Forum’s Anonymous Consignment?

Are all you demons this fond of games?

While waiting for the other party’s reply, Harvey couldn’t help but ponder the meaning and purpose behind this action.

The members of the Magic Net Forum were, without exception, powerful high-level casters, a far cry from the ordinary people and foolish nobles in the legends who were easily tempted and corrupted by devils.

Moreover, many of these members were Arcane Casters skilled in summoning arts. Even if they did attempt the sacrificial ritual, it was highly likely they would immediately counter the summoned demon on the spot.

In the Magic Net space, this Mr. Mind Hunter couldn’t even handle a mid-level caster like himself, let alone deal with the other members of the Forum.

[Mind Hunter: Rest assured, there is no malice in this transaction, nor is it some kind of conspiracy.]

[Mind Hunter: As it happens, to repay you for introducing me to the Forum, I am willing to share some of the hidden knowledge of the demon race with you…]

Harvey’s spirits immediately lifted, and he even sat up a little straighter.

[Kel’Thuzad: I am very interested in the ancient knowledge of the demon race. This is a very fair trade.]

…

Over the next hour, Harvey learned from the Mind Devil with the handle “Mind Hunter” a history and knowledge of the ancient race of demons that completely overturned everything he had ever been taught or known.

Back when he was studying at the Necromancy Academy, during his course on the exceptional races of the continent, Harvey had taken a keen interest in ancient races like the Dragons, Demons, and Giants.

The disappearance of the Dragons and Giants from the continent was half due to their own internal conflicts and half due to the united resistance from Humans, Demons, Elves, Dwarves, and other short-lived species.

Only the Demons were different. They were not a native species that originally lived on the northern and southern continents, but rather extraordinary beings who invaded from other planes of existence.

This invasion was not without its limits; it required a person to actively perform a summoning ritual, opening a channel between the two planes through sacrifice.

And the various sacrificial summoning rituals passed down on the continent almost all pointed to low-ranking demons, who were impossible to communicate with and were innately chaotic and bloodthirsty. This led to most rituals ending in horrific tragedies when the summoner lost control of the summoned entity.

This was the main reason why all academy-trained Spellcasters were repeatedly warned and reminded never to casually attempt summoning or sacrificial magic.

But the Mind Devil told Harvey that, in essence, all summoned demons were not there to toy with human nature, tempt mortals into corruption, or enjoy bloody sacrifices…

What they truly needed from the summoner was the strong desire actively generated during the sacrificial summoning ritual—something called “Votive Power.”

Demons, in truth, are an extraordinary race that feeds on “Votive Power.”

This was why most of them used temptation and promises to stimulate the summoner’s intense craving for certain things, be it wealth, power, strength, or beauty…

Harvey found this explanation highly credible. Taking this Mind Devil, whose true self resided in the Plane of the Magic Net, as an example, it confirmed that demons did not really need to feed on evil, flesh-and-blood sacrifices.

After all, there were no physical living entities in the Magic Net space; all roamers existed there in the form of mental energy.

As for why he wanted to trade a summoning ritual involving himself, the answer was even simpler.

Due to the dual suppression from the Church and the Federation in the real world, very few people would risk trying to summon a powerful high-ranking demon anymore. Even the occasional fallen Spellcaster with a wavering stance would, at most, summon some easily controllable low-ranking demons to command.

This resulted in high-ranking demons obtaining less and less “Votive Power” through summoning and sacrifice. They could no longer sustain their activity in their own dimension with “Votive Power” and were forced into slumber one after another.

Meanwhile, the frequent loss of control and evil deeds of low-ranking demons in the real world only served to reinforce the evil and dangerous nature of demon summoning rituals, ultimately leading to a dual collapse of both their reputation and their survival.

“This is a classic case of bad money driving out good, haha,” Harvey couldn’t help but quip.

…

Even among the special high-ranking demons known as Mind Devils, “Mind Hunter” was a maverick.

He loved observation and exploration and was unwilling to easily give up on collecting and absorbing “Votive Power.” Thus, he frequently roamed the Magic Net space, constantly making contact with roamers of other races he encountered, and cautiously obtaining the “Votive Power” he needed from them.

But this method of collection was too covert and cautious, largely failing to arouse intense desires in his targets. As a result, his gains had only ever been enough to maintain his basic mental activity, barely sufficient to keep himself from falling into slumber.

Originally, by contacting Harvey and successfully joining the Magic Net Forum, “Mind Hunter” had thought he could finally obtain a stable and large supply of “Votive Power,” never having to worry about sustenance again.

Who would have known that this Spellcaster Forum completely blocked his innate senses? No matter how he tried, he couldn’t absorb even a single shred of “Votive Power” generated by the Forum members.

Hearing the Mind Devil complain to him about this with a hint of grievance, Harvey couldn’t help but find it amusing. He also understood that the other party was completely incapable of comprehending the Spellcaster Forum’s operational logic and principles.

With his own, a Transmigrator’s, terrifying “Mental Anchor” acting as the Forum’s firewall, any location-finding or perception from the Magic Net was incapable of reaching the Forum itself.

Thinking of this, Harvey tapped the keys on the “Magic Brain,” preparing to respond to “Mind Hunter’s” trade request.

[Kel’Thuzad: Mr. Mind Devil, I don’t think you need to go through with the anonymous trade of your summoning ritual. If you don’t mind, I myself am willing to make this deal with you directly. I will personally perform the ritual to summon you…]

[Mind Hunter: Praise be to a human Spellcaster such as yourself, so full of goodwill and strong curiosity. Mr. Locator, I wonder, what price must I pay this time in exchange for your help?]

A slight smile played on Harvey’s lips as he tapped the keys, typing out the terms of the deal he had already prepared.

[Kel’Thuzad: It’s simple. For this summoning ritual, I need you to bring another creature with you… I want you to personally capture one of those creatures you mentioned before… a creature that lives in the Magic Net just like you—a Magic Spirit.]

Chapter 109: A Netizen Meetup

Ever since his first unexpected encounter with “Mind Hunter,” Harvey had been extremely interested in the mysterious and strange things within the Magic Net that it had nonchalantly mentioned.

Whether it was coordinates to spatial fissures in other dimensions, projections of Spellcaster or ancient creature ruins, or clues to the whereabouts of Magic Net creatures like Magic Spirits, all of it was priceless knowledge for a Spellcaster like Harvey, whose research primarily focused on the Magic Net.

Only by never giving up the pursuit of knowledge could a Spellcaster avoid straying from the right path of magic.

Having experienced the perilous adventure into the spatial fissure last time, Harvey naturally didn’t dare to try exploring fissures alone again. He was afraid of encountering another terrifying other-dimensional eldritch creature like before. Without a powerful Legendary Caster like The Scorching Sovereign to take the lead, escaping unscathed would be no easy feat.

Projections of Spellcaster and ancient creature ruins also required exploration by multiple powerful Spellcasters to guarantee even a minimum level of safety.

Therefore, the only thing Harvey currently hoped to gain from a trade was the wondrous Magic Net creature “Mind Hunter” had mentioned—the Magic Spirit.

According to Mr. Mind Devil’s description, Magic Spirits, these naturally formed creatures born from the Magic Net space, were completely different from any lifeform known in the real world.

This was why Harvey had never found any information about Magic Spirits in magical tomes or dimensional travelogues; they were fantastical creatures that not even Legendary Casters of past eras had discovered.

The Mind Devil race, capable of roaming the Magic Net space for long periods, actually knew very little about the origins of Magic Spirits. They only knew that these creatures fed on the pure, dispersed magical energy within the Magic Net, possessed no aggression or malice, and were extremely adept at concealing themselves, living long-term within the dense energy conduits of the Magic Net.

This was what Harvey was most interested in, because he himself possessed a batch of fantastical magical creatures in the real world that also fed on pure magical energy—the Energy-devouring beetles.

He had a faint feeling that although they were separated by different spatial planes, there was likely some fundamental connection between the two.

…

As for the dangers of the sacrificial summoning ritual, Harvey would not relax his guard or take it lightly in the slightest.

No matter how harmless and benevolent the other party appeared, this was, after all, summoning a demon’s projection from another dimension into the real world. He had to take all sorts of precautions in advance.

Harvey’s first line of defense was to set up the summoning ritual in the spell testing ground of the underground laboratory. Four guard alchemical beasts, equipped with beetle energy blocks, would keep the summoning array locked on at all times. If anything went wrong, they would immediately release powerful energy beam shockwaves, ensuring the array could be destroyed in an instant, severing the connection between the real world and the other dimension.

The second failsafe was an empty alchemical body shell that Harvey had asked Rainer to prepare in advance. Based on his knowledge of demons, this was an effective measure to prevent possession by the target’s true self projection. Rainer would manipulate the empty alchemical body through a soul link, completing the summoning ritual from a distance. If the demon attempted a malicious possession, he would immediately use the soul link conduit to suck the projection, formed of mental energy, into Unit Zero’s energy-gathering array and decisively counterattack with the Mental Anchor.

Even with these two strong failsafes, Harvey still felt it wasn’t enough. He also planned to cast a modified fifth-circle spell he had only attempted once since learning it—“Keryl’s Corrosive Domain”—during the ritual. This would create a sealed space within the spell testing ground filled with a highly corrosive toxic mist, a precaution against a potential swarm of lesser demons, which possessed real flesh-and-blood bodies, pouring through the moment the two spatial planes connected.

Only after making all these thorough preparations did Harvey contact “Mind Hunter” again through the Spellcaster Forum to ask for the sacrificial offering and the array incantation for the summoning ritual.

[Mind Hunter: Actually, the bloody sacrifices recorded in the demon summoning rituals you’ve learned about are not necessary for the ritual at all.]

[Mind Hunter: Besides clearly knowing the target’s True Name, the only thing you need to pay attention to is the drawing of the array that connects the two spatial planes. As for the offering… haha, I can responsibly tell you that if you can guarantee those two things, you could successfully summon a demon even if you placed a bucket of pig bran at the sacrificial spot.]

So it really is like that, Harvey thought. The bloody sacrifices recorded in the ritual tomes were most likely intended to scare off greedy fools who overestimated their abilities. They also served as an implicit deterrent to anyone else who might try, instilling fear and making them back down.

He also couldn’t rule out that this was partly due to the suggestion and guidance of high-ranking demons from ancient times. After all, the fear generated by bloody sacrifices was an effective means for demons to stimulate the summoner’s release of “Votive Power.”

Harvey set the summoning ritual for midnight the next day, arranging for Rainer and Astaren, two alchemical lifeforms completely immune to mental attacks, to be his assistants.

The summoning array was once again drawn with liquid mithril for its superior magical conductivity.

Of course, the ritual offering couldn’t actually be the pig feed Mr. Mind Devil had joked about. Since this was their first real “netizen meetup,” out of politeness and respect, Harvey had Egnor and Astaren retrieve some of the treasured magical plants with soul-calming and mind-soothing properties from the warehouse. They carefully ground them into a fine powder and burned them as incense, similar to a church mass.

Just as the hands of the laboratory’s grandfather clock ticked past the midnight mark, Harvey immediately cast the fifth-circle spell, Keryl’s Corrosive Domain, within the spell testing ground, allowing the thick toxic mist to solidify and linger in the sealed room.

In the four corners of the testing ground stood the guard alchemical beasts, their beetle energy beams already activated. Their crimson eyes were locked firmly on the summoning array in the center of the room.

An alchemical body stood before the array, a metal energy tube connected to its back. The tube ran through a groove in the floor to the outside of the room, where it was finally fixed into a slot on Rainer’s waist. Rainer himself was positioned right next to Unit Zero’s energy-gathering array, maintaining a charged connection.

Harvey planned to first try completing the summoning by using a recording magic stone to recite the ritual incantation for him.

If that didn’t work, he would have the poison-immune Astaren enter the testing ground and personally recite the incantation to complete the ritual.

After all, the soulless alchemical body couldn’t speak, so this crucial step of the ritual had to be performed by someone else.

“Mind Hunter” had already taught Harvey how to pronounce his True Name in the demonic language but had cautiously refrained from translating or explaining its meaning. Harvey understood this perfectly.

Once a demon’s True Name was analyzed and deciphered, it could easily put them in a passive, controlled position. The Church even possessed a powerful secret art that allowed them to kill demons directly by targeting their True Names with divine magic.

Fortunately, using the recording magic stone to recite the incantation worked.

Rainer manipulated the alchemical body to pour pure magical energy into the summoning array, fully activating it. Harvey could clearly feel turbulent energy, spilling from the Magic Net space, begin to surge within the laboratory.

After the summoning incantation repeated three times, the array erupted in a thick, dark red mist, which gradually gathered above the diagram to form an invisible cyclone.

Then, the cyclone split open down the middle, outlining an irregular, door-shaped void.

A pair of slender, pale, and emaciated hands, much longer than a normal person’s, slowly reached out from the void and gripped its edges, as if trying to pull free.

Following that, an illusory, twisted, deep red figure emerged from the void as well.

A slit resembling an eyeball suddenly split open on the twisted figure’s head, and a layered voice, as if countless people were speaking at once, immediately rang out.

“Huh? Which of you is Mr. Kel’Thuzad?” The figure’s strangely twisted long arms folded comically across its chest as it asked with a hint of confusion, “Why is it so foggy in here? Was there a fire by accident?”

Chapter 110: Living Source Code

“Eh? Which one of you is Mr. Kel’Thuzad?” asked the summoned Mind Devil, looking a little bewildered. “Is this place on fire? It’s so smoky…”

The few people in the lab, who had been on high alert, all fell into an awkward silence.

Harvey breathed a sigh of relief, walked over to the ventilation lever outside the spell testing ground, and pulled it. The corrosive, toxic mist filling the testing ground was quickly suctioned out.

He then walked to the glass door, pressed his head slightly against the transparent pane, and called out softly, “Mr. Mind Devil, I’m Kel’Thuzad. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The demon’s ethereal, twisted figure flickered and instantly appeared at the glass door. Just like Harvey, he comically pressed his head against the glass to greet him from the other side.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mr. Kel’Thuzad.” He rapidly blinked the cyclops-like slit on his head and said with a sigh, “Mmm… I can feel the emotions of joy and curiosity emanating from you. They’ve provided me with a good deal of Votive Power to absorb. For that, I am very grateful!”

Harvey couldn’t help but inwardly remark that the Mind Devil had certainly come with the clear purpose of “attending the banquet.” Hopefully, he hadn’t forgotten their prior agreement.

The Mind Devil seemed to sense Harvey’s thoughts immediately and let out a friendly laugh. “Hehe, what does ‘attending the banquet’ mean? Are you going to hold a welcome feast in my honor? That would be rather embarrassing…”

A slit suddenly split open in the demon’s torso, larger than the eye on its head. He waved a twisted, slender arm, reached straight into his own chest, and pulled out a transparent, soft sphere.

“This is the meeting gift I promised; of course I wouldn’t forget. The living Magic Spirit you wanted. Mmm… I even went to the trouble of capturing an adult one. They survive longer in the real world than juveniles, which should make your long-term observations and experiments more convenient.”

Harvey, looking through the glass door, saw the sphere cradled in the Mind Devil’s hand, and his attention was immediately captured.

It was a completely transparent, soft sphere about the size of an ostrich egg. It seemed to be filled with some kind of unknown liquid, and inside, a strange, tadpole-like creature swam slowly.

“This is… a living Magic Spirit?” The creature’s appearance was markedly different from what Harvey had imagined a Magic Net being would look like. It was purely and simply a giant, big-headed tadpole.

He turned his head and gave a slight nod to Astaren, who was standing guard nearby. Astaren immediately understood and pulled the lab’s door lever.

The glass door separating Harvey and the Mind Devil slid open to both sides. Harvey extended his hands and carefully took the large, water-drop-like sphere containing the Magic Spirit from the Mind Devil’s grasp.

“What’s stored inside is the unique liquid magical energy from the energy conduits of the Magic Net space… Magic Spirits can only survive in this liquid, just like fish can’t live without water. But liquid magical energy gradually dissipates and evaporates in the real world, so this will only last for about three days at most…”

Harvey nodded, grateful for Mr. Mind Hunter’s kind explanation.

“Mr. Mind Devil, you won’t mind if I begin the experiment right away, will you? The one concerning the analysis of this Magic Spirit creature…”

The other being shrugged in understanding. “Of course. For you short-lived species, time is money. I completely understand. Feel free to ask if you need my cooperation in any way.”

Harvey led him to a workbench in the outer part of the laboratory, where Rainer was already waiting, having prepared all the necessary materials and equipment for the experiment.

Harvey picked up a crystal-clear piece of beetle ore and handed it to the Mind Devil.

“Please, have a look. This solid mineral is formed entirely from condensed, pure magical energy. In essence, it shares the same origin as the liquid magical energy containing the Magic Spirit…”

Harvey then demonstrated the process of a Magical Energy Gun firing an Energy beam. “And after being converted by magic arrays and spell inscriptions, this pure magical energy transforms from a solid state into a gaseous energy beam.”

“Therefore, I suspect that the ubiquitous magical energy in the Magic Net exists in three different states: liquid, gas, and solid…”

The Mind Devil held the beetle ore in his hand up to his single eye, observing it closely. “An interesting hypothesis. As expected, only human Spellcasters possess such progressive wisdom and imagination.”

He pointed to a beetle struggling and twisting in an equipment clamp. “So, you suspect that the existence of the Magic Spirit and this type of beetle is the key to converting between the three states of magical energy?”

Harvey smiled in agreement. Discussing academic knowledge with an ancient, intelligent species was just this pleasant.

Astaren and Rainer clearly still needed to keep a close eye on their guest from another dimension, so Harvey had to perform all the experimental procedures himself.

“The purpose of my experiment today is to verify that since inscriptions can change the state of magical energy… if I were to engrave miniature magic arrays or inscriptions onto the bodies of the Magic Spirit and the beetle, could they be turned directly into living energy conversion devices…?”

The Mind Devil was immediately sent into a fit of laughter by this wildly imaginative experimental concept. “That is utterly fascinating! It’s a pity I can’t read your deeper thoughts—your Mental Anchor is far too stable. I truly want to know just how many of these world-shocking ideas are bouncing around in that head of yours…”

Harvey didn’t mind the Mind Devil’s slightly impolite words, simply raising a hand in a gesture.

“Then let us complete this interesting experiment together.”

…

Harvey and the “Mind Hunter” gathered around the lab bench. They placed the beetle ore and the living Magic Spirit inside a transparent crystal cover and began to draw the spell inscriptions from a distance using Mage Hand.

These were inscription symbols that Harvey had learned and memorized by heart back when he was a Mage apprentice. Each one represented a unique magical concept—used to express one’s own or surrounding magical energy in different forms.

A vast number of symbols represented the increase, decrease, balance, harmony, and conversion of energy…

Occasionally, there were more complex symbols with special, multiple meanings, such as single elements, energy annihilation, vibrational waves, and so on…

The creation and improvement of spells by Legendary Casters was, in essence, also the innovation and adjustment of inscription symbols.

The fist-sized piece of beetle ore was soon densely covered with a multitude of various inscriptions. All that was needed was to link them together with specific connecting symbols to form a brand-new miniature magic array.

The Mind Devil suddenly raised a hand and placed it on the arm Harvey was using to control the Mage Hand. “Please wait,” he said softly. “I believe we can add a new inscription symbol.”

As he spoke, he dipped a finger into an open bottle of magic solvent and quickly drew an inscription symbol Harvey had never seen before on the silvery-white metal workbench.

“The meaning expressed by this inscription symbol is…” Harvey frowned slightly, unsure of his own judgment. “A fusion of the balance and harmony inscriptions? But it’s much more simplified…”

The Mind Devil smiled. “In its ancient meaning, it represents order… The two inscriptions for balance and harmony were likely derived from it.”

Harvey nodded in agreement and immediately added the ancient inscription symbol to his drawing, quickly completing the linking of the inscriptions.

The miniature magic array on the surface of the beetle ore solidified instantly, refracting a brilliant light through the crystal cover.

The light was fleeting, and along with it, the beetle ore itself vanished from inside the crystal cover in an instant.

A strange phenomenon occurred. The inscriptions, which had been solidified and linked by the magic array, detached from their mineral medium. They floated freely inside the crystal cover, beginning to drift about slowly and randomly, like mayflies.

The experienced “Mind Hunter” immediately deduced, “The ore has converted from solid energy to a gaseous state. Otherwise, these symbols wouldn’t be able to remain floating in the cover. Your experimental hypothesis was correct after all.”

But Harvey’s sharp eyes noticed a gradual change in these inscription-mayflies. “Look, they’re adjusting their movement patterns, actively arranging themselves into formations!”

“It’s order! Mr. Mind Devil, that order inscription you had me add at the end is influencing their activity. It’s making these inscriptions, which have come to life, line up neatly like soldiers…”

The Mind Devil might have just seen this as an interesting experiment in energy state conversion.

But to Harvey, a Transmigrator, the meaning of these inscriptions—which had come alive and gained a will of their own—was completely different.

Their orderly arrangements and fixed combinations, in Harvey’s eyes…

…were like the periodic table of elements, or a primitive computer language.

They possessed an incomparable aesthetic of order!

Chapter 111: A “Votive Power” Buffet

Astaren walked side-by-side with the demon “Mind Hunter” on the public streets of the pioneer territories.

Harvey had thoughtfully provided Mr. Mind Devil, who had come from afar, with a set of alchemical cybernetics that could directly house his mental projection. This model was slightly different from the others; it had neither auxiliary functions nor combat configurations. At best, it could only walk.

After all, the residents of the territory were already very familiar with all sorts of alchemical beasts and had even grown accustomed to ignoring the occasional Living Corpse oxen and horses that appeared late at night.

But the Mind Devil’s true self projection was simply too bizarre and terrifying. Going out in that form would easily frighten ordinary people, so it was safer to transfer him into a set of alchemical cybernetics.

“Mr. Astaren, why are these residents willing to do these things voluntarily, without any overseers?” the Mind Devil asked incessantly along the way, getting to the bottom of everything in the territory he found strange.

Astaren had the most patience among Harvey’s group. After all, being a long-lived species like the demon, he didn’t feel that a lot of talk was a waste of time and life.

“Are you talking about them sweeping the streets near their homes on their own initiative? That indeed requires no supervision. They just want to keep the area around their homes clean and tidy, so they don’t slip on the ice formed from melting snow…”

As he explained, he pointed to the uniform, two-story concrete houses on both sides of the street, which looked as if they had been copy-pasted. “In the early stages of the territory’s development, the residential areas were divided into blocks. The lord calls this a ‘community system.’ This method of planning and management is very scientific and effective…”

The Mind Devil fell silent for a moment, seemingly trying hard to understand the strange new term that had come out of Astaren’s mouth.

“Mmm… I can feel a vibrant Votive Power from these people working voluntarily on the streets. It comes from their own very positive emotions—anticipation, satisfaction, joy…”

Hearing this, Astaren chuckled. “This is why my lord wanted you to go out. It wasn’t just to invite you on a tour of the territory, but also to make it convenient for you to collect… er, the Votive Power you require.”

As the topic came up, the Mind Devil immediately expressed his heartfelt gratitude. “Indeed. In this regard, Mr. Kel’Thuzad’s help has far exceeded the small price I paid him.”

Then, he sighed with a hint of regret. “What a pity. So far, all the Votive Power I’ve absorbed has come from positive emotions. Even those workers laboring outside in this freezing weather and heavy snow haven’t released a single trace of resentment or dissatisfaction…”

“It’s like having a lavish banquet laid out before me, only to find that everything tastes the same. While it’s still delicious, I can’t help but feel the flavor profile lacks complexity…”

Astaren was thankful he didn’t have a body of flesh and blood, otherwise he would have rolled his eyes. He couldn’t help but recall one of Harvey’s favorite sayings—“Beggars can’t be choosers!”

The two chatted and laughed as they strolled through the bustling Residential Area and Market District, just as a patrol of Defense Force soldiers marched past them.

“Eh? Haha! I’ve finally sensed a trace of negative emotion. Not bad, not bad,” the Mind Devil said with a light laugh, turning to Astaren as he stared at the orderly column of soldiers marching away.

What? A soldier in the army has negative emotions? Astaren immediately sensed something was wrong.

Having experienced two assassination attempts, he was now a bit jumpy about similar issues. A while ago, when he and Pierce were investigating and purging the army from within, he couldn’t help but see spies from the south everywhere.

But one could hardly blame Astaren for being so sensitive. After all, the soldiers were the only armed personnel in the territory. If a problem arose from within their ranks, it would pose the greatest threat to the lord’s safety.

His tone immediately grew serious as he questioned the Mind Devil. “Are you certain that someone in that squad of soldiers just now has strong negative emotions? Mr. Mind Devil, please be sure to tell me the exact nature of his thoughts! Is it hatred? Resentment? Or greed?”

The Mind Devil was taken aback by his serious attitude. After a pause, he teased, “None of the above…”

He pointed to a young soldier at the head of the departing squad, clearly a low-ranking officer.

“The strong negative emotions are coming from that young soldier. A deep sense of loss and sorrow. From his thoughts, I’ve learned that he confessed his feelings to a girl he admires last night, only to receive a reply that she only loves him like a brother…”

Astaren’s feet slipped, and he nearly did a split and fell on the icy road.

“Er… In that case, those negative emotions are indeed very strong…”

The territory’s two officially established armies now totaled nearly four thousand men, most of whom were young refugees from the Northern Barren Lands. Eighty percent of this group were strong, single young men.

It seemed he would have to consider how to solve the romantic and marital problems of these bachelors to avoid unnecessary unrest and chaos in the army. Astaren silently made a mental note of this matter.

“Mr. Mind Devil, why don’t you come with me on a tour of the Defense Force’s barracks?”

Let’s have you see this group of thirsty bachelors who are drilled like beasts of burden every day, and let you properly absorb their “resentment.”

…

After sending Mr. Mind Devil, who had come from an alternate dimension, out of the castle, Harvey continued his research on the “Living Inscriptions” alone.

After all, the subsequent research and experiments required the two completely different knowledge structures from his two lifetimes of experience, an area where the Mind Devil was of no help at all.

After also succeeding in converting a Magic Spirit into the “Living Inscription” form, Harvey once again confirmed the feasibility of his experimental plan.

Once this plan succeeded, he would no longer have to rely solely on the two massive “Planet-level Energy-gathering Arrays” in the munitions factory to power the various magical production projects.

Instead, he could directly convert the untapped magic stone vein beneath the castle into a primary power core, supplying energy directly to all the energy-driven alchemical creatures and production equipment in the territory.

By then, alchemical lifeforms like Rainer and Astaren would no longer need to be constantly connected to conduits for recharging. The magic network covering the entire territory would achieve a powerful function similar to “wireless charging.”

He would also be able to give the Magic Net Casters Forum a massive upgrade. It would no longer be limited by the capacity and frequency of communication transmissions, and the forum’s various information feedback and reception tasks would become fully intelligent.

Creating a true “Magic Internet of Things”…

This plan had always been in Harvey’s mind, but he had never found a feasible way to implement it.

Now, he had the “source code”—the “Living Inscriptions.”

And the “server” was already prepared—the underground magic stone vein.

All that was missing was the final step—himself, an entry-level programmer who had only briefly learned the C language for a few days in college.

Chapter 112: The Magical Potato Server

Harvey, Astaren, and Rainer stood in the recently reinforced underground magic stone mine.

“My lord, are you sure… are you sure this won’t cause any accidents?” Rainer watched as hundreds of miniature Wolf Spider Beasts crawled all over the thick magic stone crystal pillars in the mine, using magical energy to guide the ‘Living Inscriptions’ floating in the air to adhere to the crystals.

“This place is directly beneath the castle. What if…” Rainer recalled the instantaneous explosion during the previous beetle magic stone experiment, which had blown a piece of his own breastplate clean off. The memory still made him shudder.

Harvey, holding a crystal plate with a frame inlaid with mithril, smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry. The vast majority of runes in this batch of Living Inscriptions are designed for stability and guidance. If any abnormal energy transfer occurs, they will proactively channel the excess energy into the deeper strata of the earth…”

If a Spellcaster’s mental energy is compared to a wireless network’s signal transceiver, and the positioning sigil to a local area network for data terminals, then to achieve data transmission across real-world distances, building a server matrix is essential.

But no single Magic Net energy carrier could handle the data volume of a “magical internet” with tens of thousands of people connected simultaneously.

The data transmission limit of a single “Planet-level Energy-gathering Array” is less than one hundred people, and it must also simultaneously maintain the operation of the Magic Net teleportation array. “Network congestion” often occurs, and it occasionally overheats and crashes.

But Harvey knew the concept of true “internet”-style data transmission. After all, in his past life, he was an expert internet surfer. He knew well that Earth’s internet data could be described as a digital deluge, and compared to the Forum he had created, the difference was like a drop in the ocean versus a sea of stars.

The Planet-level Energy-gathering Array could, at best, be considered a ripe potato from Ubisoft. Harvey’s goal, however, was to build an entire potato farm.

At this juncture, a carrier capable of storing a massive amount of ‘Living Inscriptions’—a natural, giant magic stone vein—was the optimal solution for his experimental plan.

“When Mr. Mind Devil left, he arranged a time for his next visit,” Astaren interjected, changing the subject. “He promised to bring more living Magic Spirits on his next visit.”

Harvey nodded in satisfaction. It seemed this “house call for a meal” had greatly pleased the high-level demon. So much so that he had remained in the real world until he could no longer maintain his mental projection, only then departing reluctantly.

Living Magic Spirits were an even better material for converting into inscriptions than Energy-devouring beetles, so naturally, the more, the better.

…

The three of them stayed busy in the mine until midnight, finally managing to direct the swarm of miniature Wolf Spider Beasts to affix all the ‘Living Inscriptions’ onto the magic stone crystal pillars.

Harvey picked up the crystal plate and tried to channel magical energy from his fingertip into it.

A few seconds later, the crystal plate emitted a faint white light. Mercury tadpoles, just like the ones on the ‘Magic Brain’s’ crystal display, began to appear on its surface. They swam slowly across the screen before gradually converging to form distinct words.

The “wireless login version” of the Magic Brain instrument was a success!

However, it was currently limited to the area covered by the mine server, which could more or less guarantee wireless network coverage within the territory. Beyond this distance, data transmission would still have to rely on the main Forum hosted in the Magic Net space.

“M-My lord! Look at me!” Rainer suddenly exclaimed, pointing to the charging ports on his and Astaren’s alchemical bodies. “I… I feel like I’m charging. Heavens, I’m not even plugged in!”

Several slender, tendril-like threads of pure white light extended from the magic stone crystal pillars, naturally floating over to touch the charging ports of the two alchemical lifeforms, connecting them to the crystal pillars.

Harvey smiled calmly. “Don’t worry. This is what I was talking about—wireless charging technology. From now on, you won’t need to plug in with cables beside the energy-gathering array to recharge. As long as you are moving around within the territory, you will constantly receive magical energy transmitted wirelessly from underground…”

Astaren couldn’t help but marvel, “This is the true value and purpose of magic and knowledge, something that truly transcends the ages…”

“This is nothing, just some basic functionality,” Harvey said, a little pleased with himself. “Once the Living Inscriptions have completely covered all the crystal pillars in the mine, there will be many more and better functions for us to develop and use.”

“At that point, both the munitions factory and the other civilian production workshops in the territory can deploy alchemical beasts in large numbers. With just a few human workers, we can control them to complete production tasks with incredible efficiency…”

And magical bullets, whose production had always been limited by raw material output, would no longer require a long wait for Energy-devouring beetles to breed and produce ore for processing. He could directly use “magical energy infusion” technology to mass-produce bullets and no longer have to worry about the cost of the army’s daily training consumption.

…

Harvey looked at the crystal plate in his hand, which maintained a stable wireless connection to the “mine server,” and began to dream up his upcoming plan to upgrade the Forum.

In addition to the existing Information Exchange and Anonymous Consignment sections, he could now add some extra forum features.

The permissions for new members to join could be loosened a bit, but the recommendation and sponsorship system by founding members would need to be kept. After all, they were the first beneficiaries of the Forum and would naturally be strict in their vetting and mutual supervision.

Harvey had no desire to open up registration only to have the Forum flooded with high-level casters with unfriendly attitudes. Most of these people belonged to organized groups.

If he accidentally let in a pack of mad dogs from the Church, and they suddenly shouted “By the Light” during a discussion, the situation would be more than a little awkward.

But the backgrounds of the Forum’s members were complex, and the standards for inviting and recommending new members were relatively subjective. Most were biased, preferring to bring in Spellcasters they already had good relationships with in the real world. This had led to the current situation where the Forum was full of cliques and factions, all tightly knit.

“Looks like I need to create a standardized set of admission criteria for the Forum…” Harvey couldn’t help but smile, recalling the registration questionnaires used by some of the social media platforms he frequented in his past life.

It was actually a very practical and fair method for screening members.

The first criterion to establish was that only high-level casters would be eligible to join. Mid-level and lower casters were just “leek sprouts,” and Harvey felt there was no profit to be gained from them; in many areas, their knowledge reserves were even less than his own.

Secondly, Harvey immediately thought of the time he was attacked by witch hunters, and the atrocities committed by witch hunters who had massacred Mage apprentices, which had united the entire Forum in common hatred. He had to add a specific rule: “Members of the Church and dogs are not allowed to join.”

Finally, he could slip in a little something for himself. Hmph, don’t some orthodox Spellcasters look down on Necromancers?

Then let’s add a test question: “What is your attitude toward the Necromancer school of Spellcasters…”

Chapter 113: Membership Notice and Questionnaire

Laurien of the Golden Forest, the Elven city in the Misty Mountains.

A pure white Mage Tower was built in the crown of a tall Golden Tree.

“This Magic Brain device was shipped from Da’ers for you to use when you join the Forum…” Grand Druid Kyriel Randi said flatly, pointing to a small, exquisite alchemical instrument on the bark-wood desk.

Seated before the desk was another High Elf, tall and slender, with a handsome face that betrayed no age. He reached out with long, slender fingers and gently caressed the brass-colored body of the “Magic Brain” device.

“Is there still no way to trace the device’s manufacturer from Da’ers?”

Kyriel Randi mulled it over for a moment before slowly replying, “They were manufactured beforehand as individual parts, then sent to Da’ers from various nations and merchant guilds. The Alchemical Exploration Society’s workshop in Da’ers then assembled them and put them up for sale on consignment at the Dragonstone Merchant Guild.”

He paused, then added, “The Salas Family of Oland backs the Dragonstone Merchant Guild, so we can’t investigate rashly and offend them… Besides, to buy a Magic Brain device, you must present a unique Forum handle. Each handle is limited to the purchase of one device.”

“Aragorn, activate the Magic Brain and log in to create a unique handle for yourself… The Forum has opened up its membership now. As long as you pass the joining… er, the membership questionnaire, you can join directly.”

The High Elf, Aragorn, nodded, agreeing not to dwell on the Forum’s mysterious background. Reaching into the herb pouch at his waist, he took out a pale green magic stone and inserted it into the slot on the Magic Brain.

【Hello, esteemed Spellcaster. Welcome to the Magic Net Casters Forum. On behalf of Administrator Mr. Turing, I extend my greetings to you…】

“Huh?” Kyriel Randi let out a sound of surprise, leaning closer to the Magic Brain’s crystal screen and muttering in confusion, “When I usually log into the Forum, why have I never received a welcome message?”

Aragorn chuckled lightly. “Perhaps it’s a special privilege for new members…”

The characters on the crystal screen continued to scroll, revealing a new message.

【Before proceeding with the Forum’s membership questionnaire, please read the Spellcaster Forum’s membership notice carefully. This is to help new members understand the specific requirements for joining and the expected rights and responsibilities…】

The High Elf whistled flippantly. “Heh… This is the most formal and official… secret underground organization I’ve ever seen. Uncle Keryl, I imagine you must love this kind of old-fashioned atmosphere, don’t you?”

The Grand Druid snorted, somewhat annoyed. He didn’t want to reply and walked straight to the window of the treehouse Mage Tower, urging impatiently, “Answer the questions quickly and complete the membership requirements. As of now, I am the only Elf on the Spellcaster Forum. Our numbers are too few, which puts me at a disadvantage.”

“Didn’t we reach a private agreement for mutual support with those hole-loving Burrowing Dwarves?” Aragorn asked, puzzled. “Have those short-stacks gone back on their promise again?”

Kyriel Randi turned his head and explained in a low voice, “Not at all. The proportion of human Spellcasters on the Forum is just too high. The dwarves are also often ostracized and suppressed. But our interests and goals have never aligned, so it’s better to have more of our own people.”

The young High-rank Druid nodded in understanding and pressed the keys on the Magic Brain to begin the Forum’s membership questionnaire.

【Question: Do you accept the Forum’s atmosphere of free academic exchange? Please select yes or no.】

Interesting… This is a basic test of attitude. Of course, the answer should be “Yes.”

【Question: Do you agree with the principle that all knowledge within the Forum should be openly shared?】

Hmm… I doubt the Forum members actually do this in private, but on the surface, one naturally has to agree.

【Question: In your opinion, which of the following identities should not, or are not qualified to, enter the Forum? You may select more than one…】

Aragorn narrowed his eyes slightly, frowning as he looked at the several options that appeared below.

“Demons? Sea-folk? Giants? Er… Radiant Priests and Necromancers?”

He couldn’t help but turn to look at his uncle. “Uncle Keryl, are there really members of these… ancient races on the Forum? Why didn’t they just add dragons and devils to the list?”

Kyriel Randi couldn’t help but lean over as well. After a moment of thought, he said, “It is indeed suspected that many other ancient races are members of the Forum. There was one before who we highly suspected was a demon from another dimension…”

He cleared his throat and made a rational judgment. “Considering that Administrator Mr. Turing is very likely a member of one of these ancient races, I suggest you leave the first few options alone and just exclude those last few lowly beings.”

Aragorn nodded obediently and pressed the typewriter-like keys, marking Radiant Priests and Necromancers as those unqualified to enter the Forum.

【Question: What is your view on the core tenet of inclusiveness proposed by the Forum? Would you treat Forum members differently due to conflicts between your real-world identities?】

Once again, the young High Elf turned to the Grand Druid for help. “Uncle, are you sure this isn’t a consultant’s employment contract for the Federation of Casters?”

Kyriel Randi said in exasperation, “Real-world conflicts are real-world conflicts. In the Forum, even if you have to pretend, you better act all friendly and peaceful for me. How hard is it to put on a show?”

He brushed aside Aragorn’s hand on the Magic Brain, decisively pressed the “No” option, and then hit the confirm button, ending the short questionnaire.

The mercury tadpoles on the crystal screen rapidly twisted and reformed, and in an instant, a line of deep red text appeared.

【We regret to inform you that your attitude and views are inconsistent with the core tenets of this Forum. You have failed to pass the Forum questionnaire…】

What?!!?

The two High Elves froze on the spot…

…

On the outskirts of Oland’s capital, at the top floor of a Mage Tower that pierced the clouds.

Two refined-looking, slender-faced Spellcasters sat side-by-side at a luxurious mahogany desk.

On the desk, two exquisite brass-colored “Magic Brain” devices sat close together.

The crystal screens flickered with the respective Forum handles of the two Spellcasters.

“Astrologer” and “Eye of Illusion”…

A Spell Messenger in the form of an owl flapped its wings, bursting in through the Mage Tower’s open window.

The Astrologer rose and walked over to it. As the messenger dissolved into ash, he retrieved a yellowed strip of paper from within.

【How should I answer the third question on the membership questionnaire? If you learned a Forum member’s true identity in the real world, would you be willing to unconditionally keep their secret? Reply quickly! It’s urgent!】

The Astrologer handed the strip of paper to the Eye of Illusion. After a moment, they looked at each other and smiled.

“This question seems to have been specially prepared for members like us, who have already met in the real world and know something of each other’s backgrounds…”

The Astrologer slowly walked over to a shelf by the desk, took down a crystal ball with faint, mottled patterns on its surface, and gently caressed it.

“My ruling star of destiny is showing some faint, suggestive fluctuations. I suspect that if one doesn’t answer the questionnaire from the heart, it’s highly likely the Forum will lock onto them and mark them as an unqualified or suspicious member.”

The Eye of Illusion asked uncertainly, “You think the Forum can use the connections between members on the Magic Net to pinpoint our locations in the real world?”

The Astrologer gave a noncommittal chuckle. “What’s the big deal? Compared to the knowledge and benefits gained from the Forum, taking such a small risk is completely acceptable.”

“Reply to him. Just say that he should treat this questionnaire as a Magical Contract with binding rules. All questions must be answered from the heart…”

Chapter 114: The Inquisition

Harvey sat before the Magic Brain’s central forum server, watching the red dots that continuously flashed on the crystal screen. Every single one represented a new member whose questionnaire had failed, leading to an immediate rejection by the intelligent screening system he had just written.

“Seriously… how can you all fail when you’re practically copying the answers? Aren’t the core principles of the Forum pinned right at the top of the messaging interface in the most conspicuous spot? Has anyone even bothered to read them?”

He stood up, annoyed, and began pacing back and forth in the Laboratory.

Fine, just fine. You bunch of two-faced hypocrites, acting one way in reality with your real names and another way online. So you put on a front, but show your true colors behind the scenes, is that it?

“So much for ‘freedom, inclusivity, openness, anonymity’… When I actually open up registration, it turns out most of you don’t even meet the Forum’s standards! What’s the difference between opening up registration and not opening it at all?”

Wait! Something seemed to occur to Harvey. He quickly sat back down in front of the Magic Brain and clicked open the interface for one of the multiple-choice questions on the questionnaire.

He was stunned to discover that ninety percent of the new members had failed this particular question, one where Harvey had slipped in his own agenda.

Church Priests and Necromancers are widely considered unqualified to join the Spellcaster Forum…

This was blatant professional discrimination! It was outrageous!

Hmph! So you look down on Necromancers, your fellow Spellcasters, do you? Fine, just fine. I’ll find a way to contact some high-level Necromancers, let in a whole batch of them to team up, and give you despicable hypocrites a taste of your own medicine with some reverse bullying!

The Papal State, the City of Grace—Goris.

Bishop Tosa Ismael, holding a holy book bound in a cover inlaid with gold and jewels, walked down the circular staircase of the Cathedral of Divine Grace, descending into the depths beneath the church.

The Cathedral of Divine Grace was the most magnificent structure in the City of Grace, second only to the Cathedral of Splendor. It was situated in a low valley within Goris, and beneath it lay an enormous, naturally formed sinkhole.

This sinkhole had appeared suddenly after an unexpected and catastrophic earthquake when the Papal State was first founded. It was deep enough to hold at least four Mage Towers, with a diameter of over thirty zhang. After years of reinforcement by the faithful, the surrounding stone walls had transformed it into a vast subterranean space.

It was not dark here. A massive opening in the high, vaulted ceiling served as a skylight. At noon, sunlight would shine directly into the depths, like a holy beam from the divine kingdom illuminating the entire space.

As a Priest of bishop rank, Tosa Ismael could have used a divine flying art to descend directly to the bottom. But out of reverence and fear for God, no one in the entire City of Grace was permitted to fly using divine arts.

So, as always, he made the journey from the cathedral to the depths on foot, taking one step at a time down the seemingly endless, circular stone stairs, though he had never bothered to count how many he had descended.

If the most majestic and magnificent building in Goris was the Cathedral of Splendor, a symbol of the Church’s piety and divinity, then the Chasm of Saints beneath the Cathedral of Divine Grace was the true, vital core of the Church.

The headquarters of the Inquisition—the Church’s most important armed force for maintaining its rule over the faithful—was established here.

Upon reaching the bottom of the long, winding staircase, a member of the Army of Judgment, their bloodline talents awakened, could be seen standing guard at almost every fifty-step interval. Inside the mechanism chambers lining the stone corridors were many officers of the Army of Judgment, stationed here permanently, ready at a moment’s notice.

Many soldiers in the Army of Judgment, once they entered the Chasm of Saints and accepted the duty of guardianship, would spend their entire lives in the dim underworld, never again having the chance to return to the surface and bathe in God’s blessed light.

This was not Ismael’s first time here, so no one obstructed his path. Instead, they watched him in silence as he proceeded toward the deepest part of the Chasm of Saints.

The bishop walked on, passing the living quarters of the Army of Judgment, the Church’s archives, and the prison for heretics and the fallen… He finally stopped at the very end, in the Arcane Section.

Only Priests of bishop rank or higher were permitted to enter this area. All the Church’s research and analysis of divine arts and holy artifacts originated from here, personally guarded by the Grand Inquisitor of the Inquisition.

He paused for a moment at the great door of the Arcane Section, then turned left into a narrow corridor. A short walk brought him to the entrance of a prayer room.

The guards from the Army of Judgment at the door immediately planted their swords, made a fist over their hearts, and knelt on one knee in salute. “My lord Bishop Ismael!”

Ismael gave a slight nod. “Is His Holiness the Pope in the prayer room at this moment?”

The soldier rose fluidly and replied in a low voice, “His Holiness has been waiting for you for quite some time, my lord…”

Hearing this, Ismael’s spirits lifted. He reached out, pushed open the door to the prayer room, and stepped inside.

The secret prayer room, located deep within the Arcane Section, was not particularly large. Ismael walked around a simple wooden screen that stood just inside the entrance, and the entire room came into view.

There were no superfluous decorations or furniture, only a floor of grey-black stone tiles. At the far end, against the wall, was a simple stone altar upon which sat a row of brass lamps. The faint, flickering flames in the lamps illuminated the room, casting light on the hunched figure of an old man prostrating himself in prayer before the altar.

“Your Holiness, I have arrived…”

The stooped old man seemed hard of hearing and remained on the floor without any reaction. Ismael did not call out again but stood calmly behind him, awaiting a response.

After a long while, the old man’s body suddenly trembled slightly. As if regaining his senses, he let out a long sigh and slowly straightened up, asking in a low voice, “What time is it now?”

“It has just passed noon, Your Holiness.”

Bishop Ismael took two steps forward to help the Pope to his feet, thoughtfully brushing the dust from his gray cloth robe.

The Pope, dressed like a common low-ranking cleric, coughed a few times and pointed a hand toward the burning brass lamps on the stone altar. He murmured, as if to himself, “Seven days ago, I noticed an abnormality in the Lamps of Revelation during my prayers…”

“This is also why I summoned you…”

He released Ismael’s supporting hand and slowly walked to the lamps on the altar. His withered palm swept slowly over the flames of the row of lamps, causing the once bean-sized candle flames to erupt in a brilliant golden light.

The light flashed for an instant before vanishing, and as the Pope slowly lowered his hand, the flames returned to their original state.

Ismael hesitated for a moment before asking, “The Lamps of Revelation have never shown any abnormality in a hundred years. Could it be…”

The Pope chuckled, cutting off the bishop’s question. “Are you trying to say that my old eyes are failing me, that I saw it wrong?”

He turned to meet the bishop’s gaze, and his aged, wrinkled face, his narrowed eyes suddenly flashed with a sharp, piercing light.

“I did not see it wrong. These twelve lamps each represent an absolutely evil, absolutely depraved devil…”

“Since God has given me this revelation, it means that an ancient, high-ranking demon, one marked by my Lord, has been summoned and has descended upon this world…”

Chapter 115: Single-Player Game

Night fell. Copperhammer finished his day’s work and rode his short-legged mountain goat home from Hollowhearth City’s Underground Mineral Laboratory.

“Copperhammer, how about coming to the banquet with me tonight?” Noli, who was just about to head out, called to his brother as he was about to slip into his study. “Those feudal lords have come to the city. I have to go and… foster some goodwill with them.”

Throughout “Breath of the Hills,” the entire region inhabited by the dwarves, nobles would often travel from their fiefs to the capital, Hollowhearth City. As the current leader of the Burrowing Dwarves, Noli had a packed social calendar once evening arrived.

“I’ll pass. I get annoyed just seeing those nobles who have nothing but money in their eyes, staring at their mineral trade shares all day…”

Compared to the disingenuous pleasantries of a cocktail party, he much preferred to sit quietly with a mug of ale in front of the Magic Brain, enter the Spellcaster Forum, and engage in deep discussions with its members.

Moreover, the Forum had suddenly released a mysterious announcement three days ago, declaring that a new feature would go live today. As luck would have it, Copperhammer had been chosen as one of the members responsible for testing this new function.

What a great honor!

It was a clear sign that the Spellcaster Forum and its Administrator, Mr. Turing, recognized the contributions he, as a founding member, had made to the Forum, as well as his own status and reputation within it.

Without even waiting for the house servants to bring his ale and dinner, the dwarf eagerly sat down before the Magic Brain, clattering away at the keys to enter his exclusive handle and log on.

Sure enough, the new Forum section was already displayed at the top of the chat room interface, listed right after the Public Chat Room, Information Exchange, and Anonymous Consignment sections.

“Tower of Magic? What does that mean? Why would the new section have such a completely an ordinary name?”

Several member handles were flashing on the crystal screen, indicating that other Forum members were requesting to speak with Copperhammer privately, but he had no time to deal with them right now.

He gently moved the selection key to “Tower of Magic,” and the crystal screen instantly switched to an illusory scene. A simple silver frame floated in the center, and a line of text slowly appeared within it.

[Esteemed Forum member, Mr. Frost Giant, congratulations on receiving testing access to the “Tower of Magic.” Next, I will explain in detail the specific use and operation of this new function…]

Copperhammer couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head with smug satisfaction.

[In a distant age, the year of which cannot be traced, a magnificent Tower of Magic stood within an unknown, dangerous ruin…]

“Hmm? Why is it telling a story? Is this the Forum’s way of hinting at some hidden history?” Copperhammer took the ale a servant handed him, sipped it distractedly, and patiently continued reading.

[Powerful Spellcasters from all over the world gathered beneath this strange magical structure, hoping to climb the sky-piercing tower and obtain the mysterious magical treasure buried at its peak.]

[And you are one of these many Spellcasters. Do you wish to embark on this journey to the summit, one fraught with both hardship and danger?]

The dwarf narrowed his eyes, staring at the text on the crystal screen, and muttered to himself, “This is… asking me to role-play as one of the characters in this story and complete the adventure for him?”

He then couldn’t help but laugh. “Isn’t this just a role-playing adventure game on the Magic Net? Noli’s son and those other little brats would definitely love this…”

He pressed the selection button and decisively clicked “Start.” The illusory image of the tower immediately shifted to a view of its interior, at the very bottom.

[Adventurer, please select your character class first…]

“Arcane, Elemental, Bloodline, Nature, Death, Fate…” Copperhammer smiled knowingly. The class implications of these options were obvious; they corresponded to the common factions of Spellcasters in the real world.

“But why include Bloodline and Death? What right do trash classes like bloodline knights and Necromancers have to stand alongside Elemental and Arcane Casters…”

The dwarf himself was a high-rank Elemental Mage who specialized in earth-based spells, so he naturally decided to choose this class to complete his virtual adventure.

The image on the crystal screen changed once again. A stack of virtual cards with exquisite illustrations and text appeared before him.

“It wants me to pick my character’s spells? Why are they all first-circle spells? The Forum expects me to climb this Mage’s ruin with these low-level caster’s tricks? Ridiculous…”

Though he was complaining mercilessly, Copperhammer’s hands were already dutifully selecting the elemental spells he was familiar with.

“Earth Shield is good. It can be used for defense and to obstruct enemies… Quicksand spell is useful too, and I’ll take the Slow spell… Rockfall is one of the more offensive first-circle spells, so I’ll take it…”

After a round of picking and choosing, the dwarf had filled all ten of the spell slots provided at the bottom of the card display.

“Alright! Let’s begin! Let me see just how incredible the monsters and enemies in this Tower of Magic really are!”

…

Ten minutes later, Copperhammer’s hand, resting on the keys of the Magic Brain, was trembling slightly.

His face was also a little flushed, but it wasn’t because of the ale.

It was because of anger…

The Spellcaster character he was playing had just entered the Tower of Magic and was defeated on the very first floor with clean, decisive efficiency.

That’s right, his adventure had lasted a mere ten minutes before ending with his character’s defeat and death.

The guardian of the first floor of the tower was a metal monster that, from its image, didn’t seem particularly powerful. Based on its appearance, Copperhammer judged it to be an alchemical construct, incapable of any spell attacks.

He had confidently chosen to raise his Earth Shield and then play the Rockfall spell card, planning to smash its energy core and scrap it on the spot.

“Damn it! Damn it! How can an alchemical beast have a built-in Thorn Shield! And its physical armor is so thick… My earth spells can’t break through its double defense at all…”

Copperhammer had used all ten of his spell cards without managing to defeat it, ultimately dying a frustrating death from a brutal physical beating delivered by the alchemical beast.

He couldn’t accept it! There were numerous types of spells that could deal with alchemical constructs, but he’d had the bad luck to pick spells all from the same school. He could only blame himself for underestimating the enemy!

One more round! This time, he decided to carefully balance the limited card slots he had and use spells that could truly counter alchemical constructs to utterly crush this detestable metal lump!

Half an hour later…

“Why? Why can it reform into two new alchemical constructs from its shattered body after I’ve already destroyed it, delivering a fatal blow when my cards are depleted…”

This won’t do! There must be a problem with my battle strategy. I need to think this through… Maybe swapping out a few spell cards will produce a miraculous effect…

An hour later…

Copperhammer’s hands began to tremble again, and a thin layer of sweat slicked his back.

This time, not only had he successfully destroyed the main body of the alchemical construct, but he had also preemptively defended against the surprise attack from the two reformed metal monsters. He still had three cards left in his hand: one defense spell, one attack spell, and one support spell.

Above his character’s head, the red dots representing his health points were down to just six, which meant that without a defense spell, a single hit from the enemy would kill him instantly.

Should he risk an attack or play it safe and stall for a round with a defense spell…

The dwarf had a nagging feeling that his next choice would decide the ultimate fate of his character in this game.

Having lost so many rounds, he was truly unwilling to give up. He desperately wanted to win to vindicate his wisdom and decisiveness as a Spellcaster.

Just as he was hesitating, the upper-left corner of the crystal screen suddenly flickered, and a brand-new card popped out.

This card was slightly different from the white-bordered ones he had chosen; its border was green.

[Brave Spellcaster, congratulations. While exploring the first floor of the Tower of Magic, you have unexpectedly obtained a low-grade elemental magic artifact—the Dwarf’s Arcane Warhammer. It can only be used once per battle and provides the effects of Armor Break and Stun.]

[Do you wish to accept this card and use it to defeat the powerful enemy?]

Copperhammer’s eyes widened in ecstatic delight.

There was such a thing as an unexpected reward? This was the perfect solution to his hand’s lack of offensive power.

It seemed fate was smiling upon him, placing victory firmly within his grasp!

He decisively clicked on the card, taking it into his hand…

Chapter 116: The Anti-Addiction System

Fell Hoden watched the crystal screen as the Crystal Monster that had tormented him for a full three hours finally shattered with a loud crash after he played his last offensive spell card with all his might.

“Haha! Damn you, rock monster! Now you know the power of grandpa’s great fireball!”

He sat at his desk, raised his arms, and cheered. His triumphant shouts echoed throughout the study.

“Ma… Master?” A mage apprentice, usually one of his favorites, pushed the study door open a crack and poked his head in. “What happened?”

“It’s none of your business, get out!” Fell’s expression instantly shifted from elation to indignant anger. He turned and swiftly shooed his prized student away.

He let out a long sigh and turned his gaze back to the screen of the Magic Brain. A wave of sentimentality washed over him.

This thrill and excitement felt just like when he was a child, playing a strategy game called King’s Chess with his tutor.

It required both skill and luck!

Each floor of this illusory Tower of Magic held unknown dangers and monsters, along with randomly appearing spell or magic artifact cards. On several occasions, when he was on the verge of defeat, he had unexpectedly acquired the means to turn the tables and snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.

“This game is even more interesting than chasing the routed remnants of the Demon army in the Evil Moon Mountain Range and tossing fireballs at their backsides.”

Although he could only rely on the handful of first-circle tricks provided by the Forum—spells he would normally scorn—wasn’t this a true test of a spellcaster’s wisdom and strategy?

A spellcaster’s true strength lay in their mind, not in some high-level spell.

Still high on the excitement of defeating the monster, Fell couldn’t help but repeatedly review his adventure game’s results screen.

“Hmm… The reward for clearing the second floor is a choice of one of three spell cards. I’ll have to consider this carefully before making a choice…”

Just then, the grandfather clock against the study wall struck midnight.

A text box with a golden border instantly popped up on the Tower of Magic game interface.

[Today’s Tower of Magic Challenge Rankings: First Place - Kel’Thuzad, Floor Cleared - 5… Second Place - The Scorching Sovereign, Floor Cleared - 3… Tenth Place - Son of Flame, Floor Cleared - 2…]

Fell scrolled to the very bottom of the leaderboard to finally find his Forum handle. A whole crowd of people were listed ahead of him, all having struggled to a halt on the second floor just like him. However, because they had cleared it in less time, their names were ranked smoothly ahead of Fell’s.

“Crap! Why am I ranked at the very bottom?” he grumbled, slumping into his chair in frustration. He cursed himself for being too slow to grasp the adventure game’s mechanics. “But no matter. I’ve always been good at catching up from behind. Once I get a little more familiar with it, hmph…”

“Still, how is this Mr. Kel’Thuzad so formidable? How did he manage to climb to the fifth floor in just a few hours? Does he have some secret trick for clearing the levels?” Fell decided he would definitely contact the man privately tomorrow to exchange some notes. If necessary, he was willing to pay a certain price to obtain the secrets of the adventure as soon as possible.

He took a sip of water, then rallied his spirits and threw himself back in front of the Magic Brain, ready to begin his battle on the third floor.

[Friendly Reminder: The Tower of Magic is currently in the Forum’s beta testing phase. It is only open daily from 9:00 PM to 12:00 AM.]

“So it hasn’t been officially released on the Forum yet?”

On second thought, Fell figured it made sense. After all, he had been lucky enough to get a spot in the beta test, allowing him to be among the first to experience this wonderfully fun and thrilling virtual adventure game.

It was only because so few people were participating in the test that he had luckily managed to rank in the top ten. If he waited until the official release, when a flood of Forum members poured in to play, wouldn’t he be…

The thought instantly invigorated him. He absolutely could not be left behind by the others, especially that Frost Giant fellow. If that guy, by some dumb luck, managed to get on the leaderboard and rank above him, who knew what kind of vile mockery would spew from his mouth.

“It doesn’t matter if I can’t play. I’ll copy down all these classes and cards, then find a few other testers I’m on good terms with to discuss and research it together…”

…

Early the next morning, Harvey was roused from his warm bed by the beeping of a message from the Magic Brain in his study.

It was a notification system he had specially configured to help him monitor public opinion on the Spellcaster Forum at all times.

Now, it was gradually becoming the magical alarm clock he wanted to smash every single day.

He logged into the Forum and found that he had already been pulled into a private chat channel with only three or four members.

“How extravagant. A private chat channel costs one point per hour of use. That’s equivalent to paying to hold a small weekly Friday meeting…”

[Son of Flame: Is Mr. @Kel'Thuzad here yet? Heavens, I've already asked three times.]

[Man in the Mirror: I see his handle is lit up, so he should be here. Everyone, please be patient.]

Harvey was a little baffled. What were these veterans up to today, secretly pulling him into a small group chat?

[Kel’Thuzad: My apologies. I barely slept last night and only just saw your messages.]

[Son of Flame: Haha! I know why you didn’t sleep last night! Were you up all night studying how to clear the Tower of Magic, just like the rest of us?]

Harvey then dimly recalled that he had just finished the basic programming framework for the tower-climbing game yesterday. He had then casually uploaded it to the Forum and let the system automatically select a batch of founding members to participate in bug testing.

He himself had only played for a short while. Being far too familiar with the game mechanics and card data, he had lost interest and logged off on the fifth floor, heading back to the Laboratory to deal with other matters.

Thinking of this, Harvey immediately opened the game interface and found the nine handles of the beta testers neatly arranged on the leaderboard, with his own name sitting high at the very top.

“Alright, now I know why they were in such a hurry to find me…”

These middle-aged and elderly “gaming addicts” wanted to pry a speedrun guide out of him.

[Spellshield: @Kel'Thuzad, I'll get straight to the point. How did you defeat those monstrously powerful creatures so quickly and climb to the fifth floor in just a few hours?]

[Man in the Mirror: This could also be considered a form of knowledge sharing. Mr. Kel’Thuzad can state his terms, and we can satisfy them together…]

[Kel’Thuzad: Gentlemen, I really don’t think this is knowledge worth keeping secret or exchanging for profit. The Tower of Magic is just a virtual adventure game launched by the Forum. Everyone is participating simply to pass the time and relieve the fatigue and boredom that comes with academic research…]

[Son of Flame: How can you think that? This is clearly more than just a game! Things that common folk get addicted to, like King’s Chess and dogfighting, are what you call games. The Tower of Magic is a test of a spellcaster’s wisdom and decision-making, it’s just been packaged as a game on the surface…]

Harvey covered his face, speechless. You’re really overthinking this. I just wanted to make a game to pass my own time, and while I’m at it, milk you of your hard-earned forum points through a gacha system…

It seemed that when the game officially launched, he would really need to consider implementing an anti-addiction system.

He couldn’t let these sheltered, middle-aged and elderly “gaming addicts” run wild.

Chapter 117: Paying to Draw Cards

“The real fun of a game like Tower of Magic, besides skill, is luck and choice! It’s a collection of all sorts of randomness and variation…”

The Quinn brothers pointed at the crystal screen of their “Magic Brain” device, boasting smugly to “Spellshield” Fran Macaulay.

“After the official version of Tower of Magic went live, it took us just one all-nighter to get from the bottom of the tower to the sixth floor… What do you think? An Alchemist’s understanding and application of spell cards is no worse than you orthodox Spellcasters, right?”

Fran, of course, had no desire to get bogged down in this argument with the two brothers. He was visiting today to discuss the significance of two new features that had appeared in the official version of Tower of Magic.

When the incredibly complex card game was officially launched and fully opened to the Forum, its content was several times more intricate than what the beta had shown.

In addition to Arcane, Elemental, Bloodline, Nature, Death, and Fate, a new “Construct” class representing Alchemists was added, bringing the total to seven major class factions that mirrored the real world’s supernatural professions.

Furthermore, the official version introduced a new feature called the “Card Editor,” which allowed players to freely and flexibly select and combine their own card decks.

This feature was wildly popular among the Forum members, as everyone had complained about the same issue in the beta: the only decks available consisted of the lowest-level, first-circle spells for each class. Only occasionally would they randomly trigger a second-circle spell or low-tier magic artifact during their tower-climbing battles.

It was simply too weak! These high-level casters had no desire to choose those cards!

The “Card Editor” also heavily emphasized one key advantage: “a deck that is uniquely your own.”

This meant that Spellcasters playing the game might obtain certain powerful spell cards or magic artifacts with a “unique” quality from battles or rewards, which was perfect for satisfying the collecting癖 common to most casters.

The three of them refocused their attention on the crystal screen of the “Magic Brain device,” which was currently displaying the spell card editing interface for Tower of Magic.

“Purchase Tower of Magic Spell Card Expansion Packs for a chance to obtain white first-circle spell cards, green second-circle spell cards, blue three-circle spell cards… as well as purple four-circle spell cards and low-to-mid-tier magic artifacts…”

Fran Macaulay pointed at the on-screen notice about card purchases and looked at the Quinn brothers. “The spells in these expansion packs are random, but there’s a chance to get high-level four-circle spells and powerful magic artifacts.”

Currently, the Tower of Magic’s accessible floors were only marked up to the thirtieth level, and only spell cards up to the fifth circle were available to players.

Aside from a free set of basic white cards that came with every member’s account, if a player wanted more powerful spell cards, they would have to continuously climb the great tower and obtain them as battle rewards, or purchase spell card packs to collect them.

It took a certain amount of luck to get rare cards, and sometimes, luck could be bought with money, increasing your odds with each purchase.

In other words, the most thrilling and enjoyable part of the game was actually paying to draw cards.

“One point per pack of spell cards. I could open these until the end of time…” Ofre muttered under his breath. He and Ed had saved up nearly four hundred points on the Forum recently, with almost nowhere to spend them.

…

Harvey had been hunched over his desk, working for over eight consecutive hours. Aside from the time he spent in the Laboratory tackling research projects, he had never been this diligent.

“My lord, you’ve been in your study for days drawing these… very complex patterns and lines. What are they for?” Rainer couldn’t help but approach and observe Harvey’s strange behavior every time he returned to the castle to report.

Harvey tossed aside the quill pen, which was soaked in a magical solution, and pointed with a grin at the stack of enchanted parchments on his desk. “You wouldn’t understand. This is a revenue-generating project I’m planning to launch on the Spellcaster Forum soon.”

Rainer, completely bewildered, picked up one of the parchments. Drawn on it was the image of a wooden staff with a flaming serpent coiled around it. “Is this… a Spellcaster’s combat artifact?”

Scattered across the desk were other parchments with drawings of various magic artifacts, as well as exaggerated illustrations of numerous low-circle spells.

“These are called Card Skins. Once I’m finished with all of them, you can try them out too. You shouldn’t spend all your time running back and forth between the castle and the municipal department. You’ll miss out on a lot of life’s enjoyments.”

An alchemical lifeform with its soul trapped in a metal shell had already lost a large portion of its human senses. Besides sight and hearing, the senses of taste, touch, and smell—used for feedback of pleasure—were completely gone.

But Harvey had happened to discover that even so, those less intelligent Wolf Spider alchemical beasts still retained some of their primitive, bestial habits. When not driven by commands, they would happily venture out in groups beyond the territory’s walls to chase and hunt small, nearby animals, and would even exhibit playful behaviors like wrestling in a bundle.

This made Harvey all the more certain that alchemical lifeforms were a unique type of man-made intelligent being, not merely cold automatons.

He had put so much effort into creating this Tower of Magic game not only to test his research on “Living Code” within the Forum, but also for another primary purpose: to create some additional sensory pleasure for alchemical lifeforms like Rainer and Astaren.

Countless experiences from his past life had shown that, in the eyes of many enthusiasts, exchanging thousands upon thousands in cash for a pile of ethereal code was well worth the price.

This was the most alluring, and also the most terrifying, aspect of video games. Countless people were always willing to pay for virtual data conjured from a few lines of code, and they did so with unflagging enthusiasm.

…

“Attendant! Bring me two more cups of ale! Quickly!” The dwarf Copperhammer slammed his massive, empty mug down on the table, his face flushed red as he bellowed at the attendant waiting on standby outside the study.

He wasn’t normally a sloppy drunk, nor did he have a habit of taking out his anger on his servants for no reason after drinking.

“How can my luck be this bad! Impossible! Absolutely impossible!”

Copperhammer was currently sitting in front of the “Magic Brain,” using the device to open Tower of Magic’s Spell Card Expansion Packs.

“Just one more pack. I’m sure I’ll get something good in the next one!”

He comically folded his legs on the high-backed chair, clasped his hands together, and looked to the heavens, muttering, “Father, Grandfather, Great-Grandfather, please bless me as you have blessed Hollowhearth City, all right? Just let me pull a purple spell card!”

He then clicked the purchase button for another expansion pack. After paying the one-point fee, the pack instantly burst open, and five cards flew out, arranging themselves neatly on the crystal screen’s interface.

Four white first-circle spells, one green second-circle spell…

“Aargh!!! Aaargh!!! Why! More of this useless junk!”

Chapter 118: Work Inspection

Harvey tossed the letter from the Spell Messenger into a pile of waste paper, folded the reply he had just finished writing, and with a snap of his fingers, summoned a new messenger, watching it flap its wings and fly out of the second-floor castle window.

This was the third time he had written back to refuse the request from George Santos, Vice-President of the Dragonstone Merchant Guild, to visit and tour the pioneer territories.

No wonder Earl Fegan of Grizzly Keep wanted to frame me with this cagey act of mine, he thought. Any outsider who knew the situation would probably suspect that Harvey’s departure from the south and his hiding out in the northern pioneer territories were a cover for some unspeakable evil deeds.

Now, Earl Fegan had been thoroughly frightened by the magic sniper Harvey had sent, and he had soon received notice of a joint investigation from the capital’s Noble Council and the Federation. Although Harvey was still the victim in this matter, it seemed his existence had once again been completely ignored.

The royal aristocrats and political mages were more interested in the conflict of interest and armed confrontation between nobles and Spellcasters involved in this incident. It was an opportunity to seize considerable benefits for their own factions through endless bickering and stalling.

As for the real victim… well, since he wasn’t from a great wizard family, nor was he the favored disciple of some Federation higher-up, a simple letter of appeasement would suffice.

Given that this wasn’t the first time Harvey had been innocently attacked, the letter of condolence this time came with an additional small box of neatly arranged mid-grade magic stones. This was considered the best conciliatory treatment the Federation had offered a Necromancer in years.

“Guard, inform Mr. Astaren that I am going to inspect the municipal department… uh, don’t notify them in advance. We’ll go there directly.”

The young soldier, who stood at the study door every day, diligently playing the part of a marble statue, was suddenly taken aback. This was the first time he had received a formal order to guard the lord on an outing.

Usually, the lord was a homebody who rarely stepped out. Most of the time, he would just order the alchemical beast servants to brew him tea, fetch him water, or bring some pastries and late-night snacks from the kitchen.

The soldier snapped his heels together, raised a fist to his chest, and, his face slightly flushed, turned to leave the study. He headed downstairs to inform chief advisor Mr. Astaren, who was busy in the Laboratory.

When Harvey actually stepped out of the castle’s main gate, he was startled by the defensive soldiers waiting for him.

Twelve tall, burly Defense Force soldiers, carrying Magical Energy Guns, expertly surrounded him. The wasteland brutes, averaging one-point-eight meters in height, formed a four-sided human wall, making it difficult for the slightly shorter Harvey to even see the road ahead.

The formation was flanked front and back by two massive, bear-like alchemical beasts, which followed the soldiers’ commands with heavy footsteps, puffing out thick white steam.

Through the gaps in the human wall, Harvey could just barely see two soldiers further ahead, guns at the ready, leading the way and loudly clearing the street of anyone who got too close.

“The lord is passing, civilians make way immediately! Do not attempt to approach, or you will be arrested on the spot!”

Harvey closed his eyes, speechless. He did not enjoy this “local tyrant” treatment one bit.

But he understood the soldiers’ overreactions and their actions in charge of his personal safety.

After all, the incident where someone had infiltrated his territory and nearly assassinated him with a cheap shot had left a deep psychological scar on many of his loyal followers.

“I need to get the alchemical carriage researched and built as soon as possible, then I can avoid being in such an awkward situation again…”

It didn’t matter if the carriage wasn’t bulletproof; Harvey himself was.

…

The large procession made its way to the Municipal Center next to the Market District, only to find a line of people already standing at the entrance of the two-story municipal department building, eagerly awaiting the lord’s arrival.

With that, Harvey’s plans for either an “incognito visit” or a “surprise inspection” were ruined.

This was his first time at the Municipal Center. When this core institution responsible for the territory’s daily administration was first established, Harvey had been full of enthusiasm and had even drawn the blueprints for the two-story concrete building himself.

Rainer had gone to the Mining Area in the southwest of the territory for work today. In the bustling Municipal Center, only two of his long-serving deputies were present, nervously handling the reception for the lord’s inspection.

Harvey found the two men vaguely familiar. Upon asking, he learned that they were both from the first group of refugees rescued by Pierce.

Compared to the endless stream of poor commoners who joined the territory later, Rainer clearly trusted and valued this group of “founding” refugees who had joined from the very beginning.

Their backgrounds were clean, with no ties to the nobles of the south. To these twenty-odd people, Harvey, Rainer, and Pierce were their saviors. Not to mention, they were later provided with free treatment, food, and shelter, which was more than enough to ensure their lasting gratitude and loyalty to the lord.

Therefore, with Harvey’s tacit approval, Rainer had arranged for all of them to be placed in various key management and production institutions in the territory, making them the first batch of officials with real power.

The two men receiving Harvey were among the a-students in Astaren’s relentless night school literacy program, so Rainer had them follow him directly to handle important administrative affairs.

“My lord, we’ve set up the Citizen Affairs Reception in the first-floor hall, responsible for handling all routine administrative work in the territory,” the middle-aged official named Clem explained to Harvey in a clear and organized manner. “This Group is specifically responsible for refugee reception and identity verification…”

“This Group is responsible for managing the Public Market… And this Group is dedicated to all the factory production projects in the territory…”

As Harvey listened to the report, he casually asked, “And where are the departments for free education and healthcare located?”

The other, somewhat quieter young official immediately answered, “My lord, they are both upstairs. Our colleagues in the Medical Group and Education Group prefer a quieter work environment. Besides, they are rarely at the municipal department on a normal day, spending most of their time at the school and the infirmary…”

Harvey nodded, indicating that he was very satisfied with this working model.

After all, he had only casually mentioned a few ideas back then. He hadn’t expected Astaren and Rainer to be able to whip it into such an orderly state. It had to be said that an alchemical lifeform in a mode of absolute rationality was the optimal choice for handling political affairs and assisting in management.

“Has your superior, Director Rainer, mentioned to you the new order I recently issued?” Harvey stopped in the middle of the hall, still surrounded by the soldiers.

Clem squeezed his head with some difficulty through a gap between two burly soldiers and replied with a broad smile, “My lord, Director Rainer already announced it to us three days ago. It’s about establishing a separate inspection department to investigate all sorts of illegal and disorderly incidents in the territory…”

The younger official also blankly squeezed his head into the crowd and added calmly, “My lord, the task of selecting a site for the new inspection department’s office has been handed over to the Construction Department. All that’s left is the matter of naming the department. What are your thoughts…?”

Slightly embarrassed, Harvey raised his hands to part the soldiers surrounding him. “I’ve already thought of one. The new department will be called the Police Department.”

Chapter 119: The Magic Stone Steam Engine

In the early morning, Jackdaw Town was still shrouded in a thin mist. The frigid air, a sign of the winter snow’s impending thaw, made the entire town seem exceptionally desolate.

A convoy of merchant carts and horses slowly departed from the town, heading towards a hunters’ village closest to the foot of Raven Ridge.

The leader of the convoy, seated in a four-wheeled carriage, saw several people standing at the village entrance from a distance, waving at them on tiptoe.

“Vice-President George Santos! I didn’t expect you to arrive so early.” The middle-aged man in the lead stepped forward with a smile to exchange pleasantries.

The Vice-President of the Dragonstone Merchant Guild, a man with chubby cheeks and a slightly bloated figure, shook his head and said with a wry smile, “Mage Harvey… ah, no, Lord Harvey rejected my request to visit the pioneer territories, but he contacted me to meet you at this warehouse…”

In this era, the environment for merchants was not as safe or convenient as in later times. Most merchant convoys with weak defensive capabilities didn’t dare to easily cross national borders to trade far and wide.

A vast merchant guild like the Dragonstone Merchant Guild, renowned throughout the Southern Continent, was a rare sight, mainly because they maintained their own team of Bloodline Warrior bodyguards and had deep ties with the nobles of various nations and the Federation.

The smile on the middle-aged man’s face didn’t falter. He invited Santos into the warehouse to rest for a moment, while mysteriously revealing in a low voice, “My lord Harvey invited you here because he naturally has something good to share. After all, when it comes to the business of making money, you are the true expert…”

Santos took a sip of warm ale and said with reservation, “The relationship between Lord Harvey and our guild goes without saying. However, if this is a business deal like the soap last time, I believe it would be more appropriate to negotiate in person. After all, with such substantial profits, the contract requires repeated discussion before signing…”

The middle-aged man chuckled. “The barren lands are harsh and cold, and you know that my lord Harvey is a Spellcaster with a delicate constitution. As it happens, he has been overworking himself recently and has unfortunately come down with a cold, which is why he sent me as his representative.”

He turned and gave a slight nod to a young clerk in the warehouse. The clerk immediately brought over a wooden box and placed it on the table between them. The man opened it, revealing two Recording Stones nestled inside.

“Magic stones? What is the meaning of this? My lord Harvey was buying magic stones from me just a few days ago. Does he now want to sell them back to me?” Santos frowned slightly, asking in confusion.

The magic stone trade involved infringing upon the Federation’s monopoly, so they generally wouldn’t get involved easily unless it was a case like Harvey’s—a high-priced purchase of a small quantity. After all, every major merchant guild had its own special smuggling channels.

“No, if it were just magic stones, we wouldn’t have troubled you to make this trip.” The middle-aged man gently picked up one of the stones and displayed the image it held for Santos. “Please, take a look…”

It was a contraption like a metal box placed on the ground, painted black and seemingly assembled from multiple mechanical parts. A man who looked like a technician stood beside it and skillfully pulled a long lever on the box.

The large, heavy metal box immediately let out a roar, and a thick plume of white steam spewed from its top. Then, a large flywheel mounted on its surface began to slowly turn.

It drove an oiled leather belt attached to it to spin rapidly, pulling a huge, half-man-high mine cart from the side towards the machine at great speed.

“This… Is this an alchemical construct? The Esoteric Society’s latest invention?” The well-traveled Vice-President of the Dragonstone Merchant Guild stared at the image with wide eyes, slightly astonished.

Then, he added with a teasing smile, “Surely Lord Harvey isn’t thinking of using this thing to replace manual labor in the mines, is he? Our guild also operates several successful mines in Oland, and how much does it cost to hire a single miner?”

He pointed at the metal machine in the image. “Buying an alchemical construct from the Esoteric Society would probably cost enough to pay the salaries of a hundred miners for several years. From a cost perspective, it’s simply not practical…”

The middle-aged man didn’t immediately refute him. Still smiling, he refilled Santos’s cup with warm ale before slowly asking, “Vice-President Santos, do you happen to know the price of a similar alchemical construct from the Esoteric Society?”

Santos pondered for a moment, then said cautiously, “A conservative estimate would be at least five hundred gold pounds, not to mention the subsequent troubles of maintenance and repairs. Besides, a machine like this that can work tirelessly to replace human labor isn’t something you can buy with just money.”

He added in a low voice, with a hint of disgust, “My lord Harvey is also well aware that the Esoteric Society is full of alchemists who operate based on connections.”

The middle-aged man didn’t respond but instead picked up the other Recording Stone and showed its contents to Santos.

This time, the image finally showed Harvey himself.

“Vice-President Santos! How have you been?” In the image, Harvey sat smiling in a room that looked like a study, sporting two dark circles under his eyes that perfectly suited his status as a Spellcaster.

“I apologize for not being able to invite you to my domain. You’ve been traveling frequently between Grizzly Keep and Da’ers lately, so you’ve likely heard that I recently suffered an armed attack, presumably from neighboring nobles…”

“You should have already seen the mechanical construct I wanted to show you, yes? What do you think? A powerful machine that can replace manual transport and work tirelessly around the clock—do you think it has commercial prospects?”

Santos subtly pursed his lips and muttered to himself, “Technologically, it’s indeed comparable to a construct from the Esoteric Society, but the cost is probably less favorable than simply hiring miners…”

Harvey in the image continued smiling as he spoke, “I imagine you must be considering the cost and subsequent maintenance issues, correct? As far as I know, a similar alchemical construct from the Esoteric Society wouldn’t cost less than three hundred gold pounds, and they are likely unable to mass-produce them.”

“So, if I were to sincerely tell you that the machine I’ve built costs only one-fifth of the Esoteric Society’s price, with no need to worry about future maintenance and repairs… would you choose to pay for it? Would the owners of the large mines in the south consider it a bargain?”

Santos’s eyes flew wide open. He shot up from his chair. “What? One hundred gold pounds per machine? An alchemical construct that can replace manual labor for transport, available for such a low price?”

He turned his head to the middle-aged man in charge of the warehouse, his expression full of disbelief. “Lord Harvey isn’t joking with me, is he?”

The man seemed to have anticipated his expression and attitude. “Vice-President Santos, my lord has always enjoyed a pleasant partnership with you. When has he ever had the leisure to jest with you like this?”

“This alchemical machine is not simple to build. The cast iron and various parts required are also quite laborious to manufacture. The listed price is one hundred and twenty gold pounds, which is actually a special price offered exclusively to you as a valued partner.”

“Its operation is very simple, and its power source is quite cheap. A single low-grade magic stone can keep it running for over twelve hours. You can calculate for yourself how much it can save a mine in operating costs by replacing manual labor.”

The middle-aged man paused, took a leisurely sip of his ale while Santos watched with an anxious expression, and then continued his introduction.

“Moreover, the applications for this machine are not limited to mines. It can also replace windmills and water wheels for grinding flour in a mill, and it can be used in your guild’s large warehouses for lifting and hauling all sorts of heavy cargo…”

Santos could no longer sit still. He interrupted the man’s eloquent speech, “How many of these machines has Lord Harvey built so far? I want to buy all of them!”

Chapter 120: The Dawn of Industrialization

After some haggling via Spell Messenger, Harvey secured the first purchase order for the “Magic Stone Steam Engine.” The buyer was, once again, his old partner, the Dragonstone Merchant Guild.

Compared to the “leeks” he had reaped on the Spellcaster Forum, the value of this deal wasn’t actually that high.

One “Magic Stone Steam Engine” was priced at 150 gold pounds, which included the machine itself, a complete set of replacement parts, and specialized operational training.

However, the newly established machine factory currently had low output. Limited by the workers’ technical proficiency and the iron foundry’s output, they could assemble at most five qualified machines per month. The Dragonstone Merchant Guild’s ambitious order of twenty units would have to be delivered in batches over the next four months.

But Harvey was still very satisfied with this deal. The order was worth a full three thousand gold pounds, and all the materials used were produced within his territory. Iron ore from the southwestern Mining Area was transported to the territory’s Ironworks to be smelted directly into iron ingots. These were then transferred to the iron foundry to be cast into various parts, and finally, everything was sent to the machine factory for assembly.

This was already a very complete industrial production chain.

Excluding the costs of labor and raw materials, the net profit could reach nearly fifty percent, earning Harvey a clear 1,500 gold pounds.

Moreover, subsequent after-sales support, such as equipment maintenance, parts replacement, and modifications, would require the machines to be sent back to the pioneer territories. This continuous stream of income would grow as machine production and sales increased, and it would also provide a large number of jobs for the territory, cultivating a highly mature group of skilled workers.

The pioneer territories had taken in refugees and slave laborers who originally lived in the Northern Barren Lands. For generations, they had been wanderers without a fixed home, or they were enslaved by the vile orcs and tied to their grazing lands. Their descendants were born into the same future, with no hope in sight.

Before coming to the territory, most of them had lived a numb, day-to-day existence. What drove them to work and hunt was not any inner desire, but the constant pangs of hunger and the whips and blades of their vile orc masters. This resulted in extremely low productivity and a very high loss of life.

The nations of the Southern Continent also had large populations of destitute people who had lost their land or fled their homes due to exorbitant taxes, forced into serfdom.

Harvey believed that the low social productivity of this era was likely caused by this irrational and cruel system of serfdom. It was the greatest enemy to the process of industrialization and had to be abolished in his own territory.

Therefore, for all the refugees who joined the pioneer territories, Harvey offered them a chance to change their station and their destiny: to work hard in exchange for an income, accumulating assets for themselves to benefit their descendants.

Or they could receive an education, upgrading from manual labor to skilled work, and ultimately achieve upward social mobility.

The professional soldiers in the regular army and the administrators in the municipal departments were prime examples of this. They were the first to taste the fruits of upward mobility, which would undoubtedly greatly encourage others to follow suit and quickly integrate into the territory’s system.

Besides the machine factory, Harvey also planned to build textile mills, steel mills, shipyards, steam carriage companies, and many other production and manufacturing outlets in line with industrial development.

After all, Harvey alone, relying on his shallow experience as a Transmigrator to patch together a Magic Stone Steam Engine, could never fully industrialize the territory.

Besides, he hadn’t been a technical professional in his previous life; he couldn’t even read a mechanical blueprint.

Only by getting enough people involved in the manufacturing, transportation, and sales of industrial products could he truly spark this wave of development.

As long as these foundational industrial models emerged and got on the right track within the territory, an endless stream of supporting industries would naturally follow. Letting them develop freely at the beginning might result in low efficiency and abysmal product quality, but they would gradually become more proficient and cultivate qualified professional workers.

Once he had the right people, Harvey was confident he could not only achieve internal circulation of all kinds of goods and materials within the territory, but also manage profitable import-export businesses, spreading his commercial empire throughout the nations of the south.

“My lord, the office for the inspection department you requested—the Police Department—has been completed. The Construction Department finished the interior details yesterday. As for the recruitment of personnel…”

Rainer held a work log and prattled on with his report, standing behind Harvey.

“How is the recruitment going? Are there not enough residents applying? I remember setting the salary to be no lower than that of the Farm or the factories…”

For a long time, all matters of security and crime investigation in the territory had been handled directly by the Defense Force’s patrol squads. But this was not a long-term solution. Especially with the territory’s walls nearing completion, these soldiers, whose primary responsibility was defense, would eventually have to shoulder the duty of defending the walls and conducting routine patrols of the surrounding area.

The armed forces of the military should not be directly involved in the internal supervision of the territory. The Magical Energy Guns in the hands of the soldiers must always be aimed outward, never arbitrarily at their own compatriots.

Therefore, it was time for a semi-armed organization, independent of the military, and a corresponding set of territorial laws to make their grand entrance.

The establishment, interpretation, and adjustment of the law, of course, were best left in the hands of Harvey, the supreme ruler of the territory.

But a concise and effective inspection agency was the fundamental guarantee for the smooth implementation of laws and regulations.

“The Police Department is meant to supervise the Municipal Center and to identify and apprehend any individuals or groups that could threaten the internal stability of the territory. This department will report directly to me and be completely independent of the military and the municipal departments…”

Harvey turned his head and instructed Rainer, “So, in recruiting personnel, you must maintain tight control, choosing only Northern Realm refugees with clean backgrounds and simple origins. Don’t let a single person from the south infiltrate, to avoid any mishaps.”

Rainer nodded, dutifully recording Harvey’s words.

“My lord, what I wanted to talk about was precisely the recruitment issue… The Defense Force and the Northern Army have just undergone an expansion. Young people who meet the enlistment requirements are more willing to join the army than… uh, the Police Department.”

“After all, a common soldier’s monthly salary reaches 120 gold yuan, and they get free room and board in the barracks.” Rainer paused, his tone somewhat complicated. “Even factory workers can take home 100 gold yuan a month. If the recruitment salary for the Police Department is the same as the workers’, those qualified young people would prefer to work in a factory. After all, they can learn a trade to fall back on…”

Harvey tapped his forehead, only now recalling the salaries he had casually set for various jobs. Because he was issuing printed banknotes, he had been somewhat arbitrary and irrational.

For basic production departments like the farms, factories, and the Mining Area, it was natural to adopt a system where more work meant more pay—a stable base salary with floating overtime wages—to encourage enthusiasm for labor.

But for institutions like the army, the Municipal Administration Department, and the Police Department, a higher, fixed salary should be set. This was necessary both to “foster integrity with high salaries” and to establish clear “promotion paths.” Otherwise, he would gradually cultivate a group of useless government parasites who would be detrimental to the territory’s future development.

“Rainer, get me some paper and a pen. I’m going to readjust the salary system for all jobs in the territory…”

Rainer was startled and asked blankly, “My lord, are you going to cut salaries?”

Harvey laughed. “Of course not. Readjusting means an overall pay raise! To encourage everyone to work hard!”

As for the different positions, the size of the raise would naturally vary…

Chapter 121: The Pioneer Territories Police Department

Harvey had actually always had a general plan for the future security and defense system of the pioneer territories.

However, the rapid surge in the territory’s population in a short period had forced him to shift his entire focus to food cultivation and resource production, slowing down progress in this area.

After the depths of winter, the territory’s population had reached around ten thousand. In addition to the refugees from the Northern Barren Lands, there were also many serfs from the southern nations. They had originally braved the Spine of the Continent Mountains to eke out a difficult living in the Northern Realm, only to be driven into a corner by the southward-migrating vile orc tribes. Fortunately, Harvey had pre-arranged for many highly mobile alchemical beasts, coordinating with small squads of soldiers to spread out and gather these destitute people.

Furthermore, many minority groups such as half-orcs and mixed-ancestry dwarves had also joined, further complicating the territory’s demographic makeup. This led to significant disparities in the quality of the residents, and civil disputes and violent conflicts often broke out.

Harvey also felt that even with the Defense Force handling these disputes, he didn’t have the spare time to play the righteous judge. Most of the time, he would treat everyone the same and settle the matter with a good whipping.

But now, the time had come to implement a comprehensive security system. After all, he held independent legislative power over the territory, and the corresponding internal enforcement agency had to keep pace.

The Lord would personally establish, interpret, and adjust the laws and regulations, as well as adjudicate certain major crimes—such as betraying the Lord or colluding with foreign enemies. The Police Department would, in accordance with the law, arrest and interrogate criminals, handle some civil disputes on the side, and simultaneously oversee the integrity of the other administrative systems. This could effectively delay the corruption of power groups within the territory—but only delay and prevent. Harvey believed that completely eradicating corruption was impossible in any era or world.

When the time came, the territory would uniformly implement the legal statutes he promulgated and accept the strict control of the various administrative departments. The only one who could hold the charter and stand above the law was the supreme Lord himself.

As for the current head of the Police Department, Harvey planned to first assess the military and municipal systems for suitable candidates. For now, however, he could only let Astaren take on the role concurrently. After all, the absolute rationality of an alchemical lifeform was perfectly suited for the cold-blooded work of being the Lord’s hound.

…

When Max Anton limped back to his rented house, his old mother, Jenna, who was waiting at the door, immediately rushed up to him.

“Max, what took you so long to come back? Your leg… your injury hasn’t healed yet. Why don’t you rest more at home?”

Max lowered his head slightly and whispered with a grin, “It’s nothing. I just ran into a little accident on my way back from the market…”

He turned his neck, showing his mother the gash behind his ear, which had stopped bleeding but still looked vicious.

“Hiss! How did you hurt your head? Did you get into a fight?” Jenna quickly untied a clean cotton cloth from her waist and gently wiped the remaining blood that had trickled down Max’s neck.

“Someone hit me with a club, but I dodged. It just grazed my skin,” he said, waving his hand dismissively as he plopped down on a chair in front of the fireplace. “Those people from the south were ganging up on Matron Eureka and her family again in the Market District. I just couldn’t stand by and watch…”

Matron Eureka was their neighbor across the way. She was also a poor refugee from the barren lands. The only thing special about her was that she had adopted two half-orc orphans. The two little ones were not yet adults, and their survival depended entirely on Matron Eureka gathering mushrooms in the swamp and selling them at the market for gold yuan.

Except for the strict prohibitions within the army, most people in the territory held a latent discriminatory attitude towards half-orcs. Although the Lord’s law stipulated that everyone should be treated equally in terms of education, work, and pay, daily life was a different story.

“Later, a Defense Force patrol team arrived and gave all of us a whipping…” Max straightened up and lifted his shirt. “I got lucky. I only got hit once before I dodged.”

Jenna gasped, staring at the vicious red welt on her son’s back. “This is much worse than the wound on your head. I’ll go get some hearth ash to put on it for you.”

Max quickly waved his hands to stop her. “Mom! Don’t! Those folk remedies will get me infected. A kind physician who was shopping in the Market District reminded me to just keep the wound dry and let it air out. It’ll heal in a week at most.”

If it did get infected, although the treatment and potions at the infirmary were very cheap, it was still not something a poor family like theirs could afford.

After all, his mother, Jenna, worked a part-time job at the Farm without a permanent contract, earning only sixty gold yuan a month to cover food and rent for two people.

As for Max himself, he was unemployed and couldn’t even find a temporary job to make ends meet.

He sat on the chair with his head bowed, his gaze complicated as he looked at his twisted, malformed leg and his right hand, which trembled and twitched from time to time.

As a child, he had unfortunately contracted a severe fever. Although he survived thanks to the robust constitution of the barren landers, the lasting effect was this terrible, lifelong disability.

Jenna, squatting by the iron pot on the hearth to ladle some hot soup for him, suddenly sighed in a low voice, “You shouldn’t always be sticking your neck out for others. You need to learn to endure things in the future, otherwise I worry…”

Max coughed, cutting off his mother’s nagging. “Not a chance, Mom. You know my personality, and you should know what kind of people those southerners are.” He rolled up his pant leg to warm his foot by the fire. “Besides, I’m not an idiot. I intentionally picked the right time to start a fight with them today…”

“You… you deliberately caused trouble?” Jenna froze, holding the bowl.

“Every afternoon around this time, a Defense Force patrol squad enters the Market District to carry out their patrol.” Max let out a low laugh. “I deliberately let them see a group of southerners using their numbers to bully an old woman and two half-orc orphans who weren’t even fully grown.”

Max winked at his solemn-faced mother and whispered, “I heard that among the highest commanders of the Northern Army, there’s a half-orc officer. He’s quite a formidable figure. If this whole thing blows up, he might just stand up for his own people.”

Jenna reproachfully thrust the soup bowl into Max’s hands. “You were always smarter than the other children, and you always reacted to things faster…” Her gaze shifted and happened to land on her son’s deformed leg, and her expression grew complicated as she fell silent again.

Bang, bang, bang! Someone suddenly knocked on the wooden door of their small house.

Max jumped to his feet and staggered over to open the door.

“Is this the home of Max Anton?” The visitor was a man in a black soldier’s uniform, carrying a long rifle on his back and looking full of vigor.

“Uh, I’m Max. This commander…” Max thought to himself, I’m in for it. Did the brawl this afternoon really reach the ears of the higher-ups? Now trouble’s come knocking.

But the soldier in black didn’t immediately slap him in irons, nor did he point the magic rifle on his back at his head and order him to kneel.

Instead, he took a thin sheet of paper from his coat and briefly checked it against the identification information Max and Jenna had provided when they joined the territory.

“Report to the Police Department next to the Municipal Center at eight o’clock tomorrow morning. Do not be late.”

After speaking in a cold, flat tone, the soldier turned to leave.

Max quickly called out to him, “Commander? Am I in some kind of legal trouble?”

Without turning his head, the soldier replied loudly, “No. Someone has recommended you for an interview at the Police Department. You have a chance to become a probationary officer.”

Chapter 122: The Seed of Magic

It had been about a week since the last snowfall in the Spine of the Continent Mountains, where the pioneer territories were located.

This meant the bitterly cold winter was about to end, and a spring full of hope was on the horizon.

The days when the snow melted were actually far colder than usual. Shivering in the bone-chilling air, Harvey attended the completion ceremony for the pioneer territories’ city wall. In front of the thousands of residents who had participated in this massive project, he announced the new year’s pay-raise plan ahead of schedule.

A thunderous roar of cheers erupted inside and outside the city wall. The residents, who had worked hard all winter, were now brimming with heartfelt gratitude and joy. A wave of this jubilant warmth washed over Harvey as he stood on the wall, causing his own slightly chilled body to warm up.

“The watchtowers on the wall might offer shelter from the wind and rain, but they’re still too cold. If the soldiers stay in there for too long, even with a fireplace, they’ll still easily get sick from the cold…” Harvey sniffled. As he walked down from the wall, he instructed Rainer, who was beside him, “Extend the heating system to the city wall. At worst, we can just build more hot water boilers near the base of the wall. Don’t worry about the cost.”

The Northern Barren Lands, with their boundless primeval forests and extreme temperature fluctuations, were not the most suitable region for human habitation and proliferation. This deficiency could only be compensated for through continuous technological development and planned construction.

Fortunately, the land, which had never been cultivated for thousands of years, was exceptionally fertile and rich in all kinds of resources. In just one short year, within the territory that Harvey had secretly expanded several times over, not only had many rich mineral veins been discovered, but even a number of wild magic plants, which were exceedingly rare in the kingdoms of the south, had been found.

Even the Icefield River, which was frozen for three to four months a year, had an incredibly abundant fish population. The fishermen working at the riverbank dock often only needed to set out in the morning and evening to return with a full load, transporting a ceaseless supply of plump river fish to the Public Market.

On the way back to the castle, they passed the Municipal Center. Harvey saw many of the residents who had previously worked on the city wall crowded around the entrance, enthusiastically queuing to apply for jobs at several newly opened factories.

The potential wave of unemployment among thousands of residents after the wall’s completion, which had previously worried Rainer, had now been perfectly resolved. Labor-intensive industries like the textile mills and steel mills could absorb more than half of these people into their workforce.

“When Egnor is done with his work at the infirmary, remember to ask him when he can increase the production of the enchanted cotton seeds. Spring is coming, and the land allocated for planting cotton has already been tilled, right?”

Rainer deftly pulled out a small notebook and quickly flipped through it. “Mr. Egnor should be able to finish enchanting the first batch of cotton seeds within the week. It won’t delay the spring planting schedule for the cotton.”

The textile mills had been established before the cotton fields, which meant that most of the raw materials were now being imported by Harvey with his own gold and silver. The territorial government, which had just managed to break even, had once again entered a painful state of spending money like water.

They could only wait until after this round of spring planting to harvest the enchanted cotton in the autumn, whose yield would be doubled, to make up for the deficit in raw materials.

The Northern Realm was bitterly cold. It was simply unrealistic to rely on imported clothing and fabrics or animal hides from hunting parties to provide clothing for a population of over ten thousand.

…

“My lord, that Mr. Mind Devil has sent several more live Magic Spirits through the sacrificial array. Should you convert them directly, or should we keep them and raise them for a while?”

As Harvey hesitated, Rainer immediately added, “Mr. Mind Devil also asked when he could arrange to visit the territory again.”

Harvey couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Hadn’t it only been a little over a month since he last “ate his fill and took some to go”? Why was he in such a hurry to come again? It was truly easier to invite a guest than to see one off.

“Tell him his next visit is tentatively scheduled for the middle of next month. I’m too busy recently and have no time to host him.”

This wasn’t merely a polite refusal; Harvey really was incredibly busy lately.

Ever since he completed the morphological analysis of the Energy-devouring beetle and the living Magic Spirit, he had been spending a great deal of time every day editing and modifying this “Living Source Code.” He would then use the micro Wolf Spider Beasts to attach them to the crystal pillars of the underground magic stone vein, forming a “code database” that could be programmed and called upon at any time.

No one could do this work for him. Harvey could only grind away at it day and night, which made the dark circles under his already frail body’s eyes even deeper.

Fortunately, Egnor had recently concocted a number of magic potions that boosted energy and strengthened the constitution. Following his “doctor’s orders,” Harvey took them on time every day, which did alleviate much of his physical discomfort.

The formula for this potion was one Harvey had “snooped on” from a transaction between members of the Spellcaster Forum, but its effects were indeed quite good.

His current research topic was also something he had “inadvertently” glimpsed on the Forum. It had sparked a brand new inspiration in him, and he had begun experiments on it—the Soul-stitching technique.

This was a research topic that the “Man in the Mirror” and the Legendary Caster “The Scorching Sovereign” had repeatedly discussed during their many private exchanges. It was still in the theoretical stage because it involved a forbidden subject that violated Federation regulations, so no experiments had been attached to the discussion yet.

Harvey couldn’t be bothered by such things. In his private territory in the Northern Barren Lands, the sky was high and the emperor was far away. He could start whenever he pleased.

“The hypothesis proposed by Mr. The Scorching Sovereign is indeed very novel, but this phenomenon actually occurs frequently. Why has no one ever paid attention to it before…” Harvey murmured to himself as he flipped through his experiment log.

Rainer was his lab assistant for the day, so he had already equipped his mechanical octopus prosthesis. This experiment required extremely stable and rapid fine motor control, and his six metal tentacles were perfectly suited for the job.

The Legendary Caster compared the souls of all living beings to seeds, each with a different form and nature. The growth of mental energy represented the tender sprouts and sturdy branches that emerged from the soul seed.

This was also why in many offensive spells, damage to the soul level would often cause the caster’s mind to suffer a heavy blow. But as long as the soul seed was not extinguished, the mental energy would eventually recover.

The soul was renewable and possessed a certain degree of self-healing.

This led Harvey to a bold experimental hypothesis—if he could successfully extract complete soul seeds from living beings and stitch them together with mental energy.

Would that mean this strange self-healing property would cause the forcibly stitched-together soul seeds to slowly merge into one, becoming a brand new, whole soul?

From the perspective of a Spellcaster’s professional talents, manipulating souls was indeed the primary research direction of the Necromancer school. However, in Harvey’s understanding, it seemed no Necromancer in the past had ever attempted experimental research on living souls beyond simple manipulation.

This other world, with its many transcendent beings, was not lacking in world-shaking geniuses on the path of magic. The forbidden magic and transcendent spells that existed in various historical texts also proved that none of the Legendary Casters who had emerged in the past were anything less than prodigies adept at creation and research.

“Why has no one ever tried to break through the research barriers concerning the soul?” This was what puzzled Harvey the most. “Even the long-standing Alchemical Exploration Society is still stuck on the most basic soul transfer technology…”

What had hindered the research of these past geniuses…

Chapter 123: The Soul Transplant Experiment

It had to be said, the “magic microscope” Harvey made by coating an enchanted crystal lens with liquid mithril was indeed a remarkable tool.

Not only did it possess the fine observational capabilities of a normal microscope, but it also allowed one to clearly observe the surge of magic and the conduction pathways of mental energy within objects, making it a veritable divine artifact for a research-type Spellcaster.

The device didn’t currently violate any regulations, nor were there any issues with technological secrecy. Harvey decided that once he could achieve mass-production, he would publicly promote it on the Spellcaster Forum. Benefiting others was another way of helping himself.

Harvey also designed an additional head-mounted magic microscope that could be installed on Rainer’s metal skull, making it convenient for him to observe the target’s reaction process during experiments and report the results at any time.

“My lord, this thing is simply amazing. Through it, I can see the magic flowing in your body. It’s… it’s just as Mr. Egnor described… like blood, flowing in an orderly fashion along a dense network of vessels throughout your body…”

Harvey asked with a smile, “Then can you see where the magic in my body ultimately converges?”

The magic that a Spellcaster draws from the Plane of the Magic Net through meditation converges in the sea of consciousness within the brain, where a mental energy channel connects to the positioning sigil.

As for knights or martial artists who have activated their bloodline talent, their bloodline energy gathers in the heart, and they use special training methods to command this energy for their own use.

“Uh… um, I don’t think I can see clearly where this magic ultimately converges…” Rainer’s voice was thick with confusion and doubt. “It’s as if they have no beginning and no end… Heavens, it’s true, they really have no source and no destination…”

Hearing the slight tremor in Rainer’s voice, Harvey felt an inexplicable sense of dread.

How is that possible? My magic has no source and no end? Then where does it come from? I clearly draw magic from the Magic Net through meditation…

Could it be the doing of that mutated sigil of his? Or was the Transmigrator’s Mental Anchor misleading Rainer’s observation?

Faced with these bizarre situations occurring within his own body, Harvey had already grown somewhat numb.

It was like knowing something was wrong with him, but since he couldn’t find the root cause and there was no sudden onset of a serious illness, he could only pretend not to see it for the time being.

After all, life had to go on, and the experiments had to continue.

…

After about four or five failures, Harvey and Rainer finally succeeded in extracting the soul seed of a chimpanzee.

Experiments had already confirmed that this primate was one of the species with relatively strong souls and mental energy, second only to highly intelligent lifeforms like humans, Demons, and Elves.

After all, if they were to use weak or low-intelligence insects or other wild beasts, they wouldn’t be able to withstand the repeated soul transfer experiments. Often, after two or three extraction and transfer processes, the soul would simply disintegrate.

“My lord, what form of alchemical beast will be produced if we graft the chimpanzee’s soul with that of another animal and then infuse it into an alchemical body?” Rainer hesitated to speak several times, but finally couldn’t help but ask.

He had participated in too many soul transfer experiments. Sometimes, when Harvey was busy, Rainer could even work with Astaren alone to complete the mass conversion of alchemical beasts.

But those were all simple, one-way soul transfers that didn’t involve the extraction and grafting of soul seeds. In terms of difficulty, they couldn’t compare at all.

“I’m not sure either. This is just a preliminary experiment to verify a hypothesis. We can only take it one step at a time and do our best to learn from our failures…”

Without looking up, Harvey continued to operate the Soul Extractor, proceeding with the subsequent experimental procedures step by step.

Only after grafting the chimpanzee’s soul seed together with the soul of an ordinary barren lands pack-cow did Harvey carefully transfer them into a temporarily assembled alchemical body.

To avoid any accidents, this alchemical body only had a torso and a head; no additional limbs were installed for propulsion.

This way, even if the soul-grafted monstrosity wanted to suddenly rise up and attack them, it would have no limbs to use.

Once the soul transfer was complete, the energy inscriptions covering the alchemical body slowly lit up, indicating that the body now contained the soul of an alchemical lifeform.

On the simple, temporarily assembled metal head, the comical single eye also began to glow faintly red. Then, the head slowly started to turn, and the torso, which was firmly fixed to a metal stand, began to tremble slightly.

Since it wasn’t forged from a human soul, Harvey couldn’t communicate with it directly to get experimental feedback.

He turned his head and gestured for Rainer to communicate with the alchemical lifeform and issue commands through the energy connection conduit.

“My lord… My lord, this is… so strange. It’s conveying to me a sense of curiosity and desire for… these things?” Rainer pointed at the various experimental instruments piled messily on the workbench.

This was indeed the reaction of a highly intelligent primate like a chimpanzee. They always held a high degree of curiosity about various tools and parts, a conclusion Harvey had accurately drawn when he had previously converted monkeys into work-type alchemical beasts.

“Install the limbs of an alchemical camel-beast on it. Take it down from the stand. I want to see its instinctive reaction…”

…

Harvey and Rainer stood to the side, speechless, silently watching the alchemical lifeform, converted from the soul-grafted monstrosity, wander around the Laboratory in an unusually gentle and slow manner. From time to time, it would pick up a shiny metal part or tool, play with it curiously for a moment, and then diligently try to collect these items and place them on its flat back.

“How did it turn into a metal scrap collector? It would be a perfect fit for the department in charge of residential waste disposal at the Municipal Center. It wants to pick up and look at everything, and it even collects the things it likes.”

Rainer, meanwhile, held an experimental logbook, rapidly recording the progress and results of the experiment.

“At least it’s not aggressive. I was worried that after the soul grafting, this thing would turn into a chaotic and bloodthirsty monster…”

Harvey shook his head, refuting Rainer’s speculation. “Chimpanzees and pack-cows are both mild-tempered animals. If we had grafted a grey wolf and a swamp crocodile together, I’m afraid the final product wouldn’t be so docile and cute.”

However, he didn’t consider this experiment a comical failure. At the very least, he had accurately observed that the whole formed by the two grafted souls was still dominated by the part with the stronger soul energy.

The instinctive behavior of this grafted alchemical beast was still guided by the chimpanzee part of its soul, even if the final result was a little nonsensical.

“Rainer, I think the soul grafting experiment could have a very important role in certain specific scenarios.”

Rainer scratched his shiny iron head, finding it a bit hard to understand. “Specific scenarios? My lord, are you saying… that besides creating these useless clown machines, it could have some truly practical uses?”

Harvey smiled slightly, recalling the set of alchemical devices the “Man in the Mirror” had presented at the Spellcaster Forum auction—the “Arm of the Arcane Mentor.”

“Of course. For example… reattaching severed limbs. Or, performing alchemical limb transplant surgery for the disabled…”

Chapter 124: Regenerative Prosthetics

Astaren looked at the report Rainer handed him and instantly felt a slight throb in his brow.

“This… this is the list of recruits for the Police Department during this period?” He scanned it from top to bottom. “Why are there so many… disabled people? Hmm… quite a few are soldiers who were injured and disabled fighting vile orcs on the front lines and were forced to retire…”

Rainer nodded with a straight face and explained, “My lord Harvey told me in advance not to worry about the disabilities of these retired soldiers. As long as they have a clean record and combat experience, they can all be added to the list of potential recruits.”

Astaren rubbed his forehead, feeling like his brain’s cybernetic core was overheating.

“What is my lord trying to do? Turn the Police Department into a retirement home for disabled veterans?”

The two argued heatedly over the question as they hurried to the castle’s Laboratory, wanting to get confirmation directly from Harvey, the one who had issued the directive.

“That’s right! That’s exactly what I arranged… What’s wrong? Is the number of candidates not high enough? They don’t necessarily have to be retired soldiers. Refugees from the Northern Realm with clean backgrounds can also be considered.”

Harvey chatted idly with his two assistants while manipulating the experimental equipment, not seeming to care much.

Astaren asked in confusion, “My lord, but these disabled soldiers can’t even pick up a Magical Energy Gun to fight again. Most of them have upper limb disabilities, and some have broken legs or are lame. How can they be qualified for work in the Police Department?”

Only then did Harvey lift his protective face shield and begin to explain his plan in earnest. “The vile orcs will return every year. The battles in the pioneer territories will never cease. Not to mention the nobles of the south on the other side of the Spine of the Continent Mountains, who are also eyeing us covetously…”

“It’s impossible for battles to be without casualties. For the dead, we do our best to provide for their families. But what about the wounded? Have you ever thought that, as time goes on, the number of people in this group will only grow?”

“How to help them recover and return to their normal work roles is actually a very important issue.”

Physical disabilities often lead to various psychological problems. When the number of such people becomes large, it’s easy for unstable elements to emerge that threaten the security of the territory.

Harvey couldn’t explain to the people of this era what “post-traumatic stress disorder” was, nor could he effectively screen for and treat these poor souls who might be suffering from PTSD.

The best way was to let them reintegrate into society and participate in the operation of the vast administrative machine of the government, subtly shifting their mindset from “I am a cripple” to “I am still useful to society.”

“You mean?” Rainer had actually anticipated some of Harvey’s plans and ideas, but he found it a bit too shocking to confirm.

“The soul grafting and limb transplant experiments from a while ago…” Harvey said openly. “I plan to select a few individuals from this group, those with firm wills and loyal beliefs, to conduct prosthetic limb transplant experiments.”

Rainer and Astaren fell silent. After all, they were the first beneficiaries of Harvey’s human experiments, so it was impossible for them to stand up and oppose this kind of experimentation.

Even though it was explicitly forbidden by the Federation’s laws, in the minds of the two alchemical lifeforms, the Federation’s bullshit treaties were not as important as a casual directive from Harvey.

Rainer took out the list and handed it to Harvey. “My lord, by what standard should I select the first batch of test subjects?”

This question was also difficult for Harvey. After all, he rarely left his laboratory. Compared to Pierce and Rainer, he was too unfamiliar with these low-ranking soldiers and commoners.

“Hmm… from this list, I only have an impression of two people. You can put them on the shortlist first. For the rest, you can ask Pierce.”

Harvey pointed to two names on the list he vaguely remembered. “This one named Yuliao. He was vetted during the interrogation after the last assassination attempt and meets the criteria. I remember he has a severed arm, is that right?”

“And this person, Egnor. That clever fellow I ran into by chance last time I was wandering the Market District. I think he has a lower limb deformity…”

After a moment of thought, Harvey added, “We don’t need to pick too many for the first batch of test subjects. After all, there are still some surgical risks. Let’s start with three people for now.”

…

When Yuliao was called out of the non-commissioned officer’s dormitory by his battalion commander, he was rather baffled.

He had been serving in the Defense Force for some time. Most of his duties involved organizing soldiers for group activities and public discussions at night, as per his instructions.

The themes often revolved around “The territory’s army is the people’s army. Every soldier comes from the common folk, so they should fight for the people…”

Or “Comrades-in-arms must learn to cultivate a relationship of trust and mutual aid, so they can entrust their backs to their peers when necessary…”

He also frequently intervened in disputes between small groups of soldiers, actively mediating to ease the somewhat discordant atmosphere in the army.

Coupled with his background as a Probationary Knight, despite having lost an arm, he was still tall and handsome. Many soldiers admired his eloquence and demeanor, which allowed him to quickly integrate into the military community.

“Commander, are there new orders for me?” Yuliao was puzzled. Due to his disability, he couldn’t even use a Magical Energy Gun, let alone join the soldiers for daily training. Most of his work was done with his words.

The battalion commander shook his head and explained, “It’s not an order. I received a verbal command from the supreme commander to ask you…” His expression was a bit complicated, and he considered for a long time before asking, “When you had an audience with the Lord, he once promised you that if there was a way to restore your severed limb, you would be willing to try…”

As soon as the battalion commander finished speaking, Yuliao felt his heart give a heavy thump, as if all the blood had rushed to his head.

“I am willing! Of course, I am willing! Commander, I thought… the Lord was just comforting me at the time.” His eyes reddened with excitement. “If… if my arm can really be restored, does that mean I’ll be able to pick up a Magical Energy Gun with my own hands?”

The battalion commander’s lips curved into a gratified smile. “Don’t get too happy just yet. The Lord instructed me to make it clear to you that this, uh… limb restoration surgery, isn’t one hundred percent successful. But even if it fails, it won’t cost you your life…”

…

That night, Pierce, having just returned from his shift at the Forward Bastion, personally brought the three test subjects to Harvey’s Laboratory.

“My lord, I’ve brought all three of them.” Pierce approached Harvey and explained in a low voice, “I’ve questioned each of them personally. They are here completely of their own volition and have sworn to keep the experimental process and results confidential…”

He paused, then added softly, “As for their loyalty, please rest assured. Their support for you… hehe, you could say it borders on fanatical…”

Harvey couldn’t help but roll his eyes, ignoring Pierce’s teasing remark. He turned to look at the three slightly nervous and restrained—disabled—individuals standing before him.

“There’s no need to be so tense, and don’t worry about enduring extreme pain. Mr. Egnor will be completing your limb transplant surgery with me.” Harvey tried to use a gentler tone to soothe the three brave test subjects.

Yuliao had met Harvey once before, so he was the first to muster his courage and respond loudly, “My lord, we are not afraid. Being able to restore our disabled bodies is a gift from you…”

The other two quickly nodded along, their eyes filled with the same fervor and adoration.

Harvey nodded, very satisfied with their attitude and performance.

“Alright then, let’s not waste any more time…”

“Come, take off all your clothes…”

Chapter 125: RoboCop

Max opened his eyes, nimbly flipping from the bed into a sitting position. He tried a few chest-stretching exercises and noticed the familiar pain in his back was gone. It seemed the wound from the whip lash had mostly healed.

His mother, Jenna, had deliberately stayed home from the Farm this morning, waiting by the living room fireplace to see Max off.

“How is it? Your back…” Jenna asked with concern. “Should you ask your commander for a few more days off to rest? After all, you just had…”

Max pulled on the patrol officer’s uniform he had ironed and hung neatly on the wall the night before, cutting off his mother’s fretting. “Mom, don’t worry. Today’s my first day at the Police Department. Take a look. Don’t I look sharp in this uniform?”

Jenna stepped forward to adjust his collar, then unfastened and realigned a misplaced button. “Of course my son looks sharp. You’ll be working for the government now. Heavens be praised, I never thought I’d see this day…”

Max gently wrapped his arms around his mother and planted a kiss on her coarse, weather-beaten cheek.

“Alright, Mom. Could you get me the leather boot by the door? I want to wash my face first.”

Jenna walked to the door and picked up the leather boot she had scrubbed clean repeatedly last night, her expression somewhat complicated.

There was only one boot…

She tilted her head slightly, looking at her son bent over the wooden basin, vigorously washing his face. She saw his tall, strong frame, and… a mechanical prosthetic leg, gleaming with a brassy metallic luster and covered in strange patterns.

Jenna still remembered that night a few days ago when Max was carried home on a stretcher by several soldiers in black. She remembered the feeling when she lifted the sheet covering her son and saw this metal leg.

Max’s deformed lower leg had been sawn off and replaced with a metal prosthetic. Jenna had broken down into tears on the spot, unable to imagine what cruel treatment her son must have endured.

“Mom, don’t worry. I wasn’t tortured at all. My lord Egnor at the infirmary anesthetized me, and the Lord… the Lord himself, personally fitted me with a brand-new mechanical prosthetic…”

Jenna still recalled the look of fervent adoration on Max’s face back then, and the words he kept muttering to himself: “I’m not useless anymore. No one will ever call me Cripple Max again…”

…

Yuliao woke up bright and early. He picked up the luggage he had packed the night before and, under the reluctant gazes of the soldiers returning to the barracks after morning drills, hugged each of them goodbye.

That’s right, he had been transferred again.

After serving in the Defense Force for less than two months, he once again received a transfer order issued personally by the Lord. He was going from Political Commissar of the Defense Force to Probationary Superintendent of the Police Department.

“Hey, everyone, don’t all look so down, alright? I’m just moving from the Barracks to the administrative district. I can still come back to visit often, and you can come find me on your days off.”

“Commander Yuliao, we heard you were demoted to patrol captain? Why? We all thought you were doing a great job in the Defense Force…” one of the more outspoken veterans couldn’t help but complain.

Yuliao quickly threw an arm around the man’s shoulder and clamped a hand over his blundering mouth.

“What nonsense are you spouting? I was promoted to Probationary Superintendent of the Police Department! Do you have any idea how prestigious that is? It’s the same rank as a battalion commander!”

The veteran, with his mouth and nose covered, turned red in the face and struggled, his eyes rolling back. Only then did Yuliao let him go.

“Commander Yuliao… my god… do you have any idea how hard you were squeezing? Your mechanical iron arm almost crushed my shoulder!”

Yuliao froze on the spot. It suddenly hit him—he had just used both his hands… both of them!

How did I not feel a thing? It’s… it’s as if this was how it’s always been. As if… I’d never had my arm severed at all…

He subconsciously glanced at his newly installed mechanical prosthetic. With a thought, his arm lifted slightly, and the metal hand flexed its fingers into a fist.

The Lord hadn’t gone back on his word. He had truly fulfilled his promise to make his severed limb whole again… even if it was in the form of a mechanical arm, it felt no different from his original arm.

In fact… it was stronger, more powerful.

Now, even if the vile orc that had cut off his arm were standing before him, Yuliao was fully confident he could shatter its skull with a single punch.

…

Yuliao hurried home, dropped the luggage he brought from the barracks, and immediately turned to head for the newly built Police Department.

As he reached the entrance, he saw another lucky recipient of the limb reconstruction surgery—Max Anton.

The other man spotted Yuliao as well and waved excitedly, calling out to him.

“Mr. Yuliao! Hey! We arrived at the same time.” Max pushed off with his foot, intending to jog over to Yuliao so they could enter the Police Department together.

But he seemed unaccustomed to the shoeless mechanical prosthetic leg. With just a light push, he shot forward like a flash of lightning. Instantly losing his balance, he staggered a few difficult steps before taking an embarrassing face-plant.

Yuliao fought back the urge to burst out laughing. He went over to help Max up, dusting off his new uniform.

“Didn’t you listen to my lord Harvey’s instructions after the surgery? Until you’ve fully adapted to this… uh, alchemical prosthetic, don’t make any strenuous movements. You could accidentally injure yourself.”

Max grinned, showing a set of white teeth. “My mistake,” he chuckled. “The power and speed in this leg are just incredible…” He glanced around, and seeing no one, leaned in to whisper in Yuliao’s ear, “Last night, when no one was around, I managed to jump from the ground floor straight to the roof on just this one leg… my god.”

Yuliao frowned slightly, about to warn him not to be too brazen.

Suddenly, a cold, calm voice reached their ears. “Are you two performing acrobatics at the entrance to the Police Department? Get in here, now!”

It was their temporary commander, the Lord’s chief advisor, Mr. Astaren.

The two men winced, shut their mouths, and scurried into the Police Department.

The ground floor hall was empty except for a few probationary officers who had arrived earlier. They were all standing in a neat line against the wall, none daring to chat idly.

Mr. Astaren was nothing like Director Rainer. He was famously rigid and ill-tempered, and his entire body was encased in fearsome mechanical armor. A pair of crystalline eyes, glowing with a deep red light, were embedded in his metal head. He was clearly not someone to be trifled with.

One of the disabled veterans who had undergone the limb reconstruction surgery with them hadn’t reported for duty on time. He had been struck by a vile orc with a blow that had severed his entire arm and part of his shoulder blade—a horrific injury. As a result, his full-shoulder prosthetic transplant required a longer recovery period.

Astaren coughed lightly, activating the vocal components inside his alchemical instruments, which produced a rather comical creaking sound. But no one dared to laugh.

“You thirty are the first batch of officers to be trained for the territory’s Police Department.”

“For the next month, you will report for duty on time every day to receive special police training. During this process, anyone who is unqualified will be removed from the ranks. Only those who pass will have the opportunity to serve the Lord and the people of this territory!”

“Reporting!” someone stepped forward, raised his hand, and shouted.

Astaren let out a small chuckle. “Oh? You know the military reporting procedure? Are you a veteran?”

“Yes, Commander. I was a member of the Sharpshooter Squad before the restructuring.” He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly and held up his right hand, which was missing three fingers. “Sir, can I really… can I really join the Police Department and participate in the training and assessment like this? I…”

Astaren waved a hand, cutting him off. He pulled Yuliao and Max, who were standing there dumbly, over to him and ordered them to roll up their pant leg and sleeve.

“See for yourselves! You can also come up and feel them, or have these two give you a demonstration.”

A wave of gasps erupted from the men standing against the wall.

A few couldn’t resist stepping forward, some grasping Yuliao’s heavy, solid iron arm, others crouching down to examine Max’s brass-colored mechanical leg.

“Everyone on the roster for the Police Department who has the misfortune of being disabled will have the opportunity to be like them, to be fitted with a powerful metal prosthetic limb,” Astaren announced, his voice rising slightly.

“Moreover, your severed limb transplant surgeries are performed by the Lord himself.”

Chapter 126: Virus Invasion

Harvey took off the protective mask covering his face and accepted a towel from one of Rainer’s mechanical tentacles. After wiping his sweaty face and neck, he took two steps back and let out a long sigh of relief.

“Egnor, how many transplant surgeries have we done today?” There was no sunlight in the basement; magic stones were their only source of light. He had been so busy he’d lost all track of time.

Egnor also put down his surgical tools, looking so exhausted he was on the verge of collapsing. He was only kept from slipping and falling by one of Rainer’s spare mechanical tentacles supporting him.

“My lord, I’ve lost count… Maybe… maybe the tenth one?”

Rainer turned his head, his tone concerned. “My lord, Mr. Egnor, you should go sit and rest for a while. I can handle the remaining parts of this surgery.”

Although he had turned his head to speak to Harvey and Egnor, his hands and the two mechanical tentacles on his back seemed to have eyes of their own, continuing to work nonstop on the final adjustments and calibration of the prosthetic limb.

Egnor glanced at Rainer with envy, unable to stop himself from muttering, “As long as an alchemical lifeform has enough magical energy, it’s a terrifyingly tireless and sleepless existence. That kind of ability makes me so envious I don’t even want to be human anymore…”

Harvey let out a weak chuckle and teased, “Oh? In that case, the next time you’re critically injured and on the brink of death, I’ll be the first to turn you into an alchemical lifeform. You can place your order in advance, though. Pick out your favorite model of alchemical body.”

“Whether it’s gold-plated, engraved, or even gem-encrusted… I can make it happen for you. How about it?”

Egnor was used to Harvey’s casual teasing, which completely lacked the airs of a Lord. He pursed his lips, not daring to reply. Although his salary was one of the highest in the domain, he probably couldn’t afford a gold-plated, gem-encrusted alchemical body.

Everyone knew the alchemical constructs from the Alchemical Exploration Society were exorbitantly priced. The average spellcaster didn’t have the connections to get their hands on one so easily.

Lord Harvey, however, was an exception. Many of the alchemical instruments in his Laboratory, and even the soul vessels for Rainer and Astaren, appeared to be the most advanced models produced by the Alchemical Exploration Society in recent years.

Egnor complained silently in his heart, Hmph, my lord is nothing like the powerless, helpless, and universally despised Necromancer he claims to be…

…

Harvey shook his aching, trembling arms, took a crystal test tube half-filled with a golden-yellow liquid from Egnor, uncorked it, and tilted his head back to pour it into his mouth.

This was a stamina recovery potion Egnor had concocted using northern frostflower and soul-condensing grass. Although it wasn’t high-grade, its main advantage was having no side effects, making it suitable for long-term use by night owls like Harvey who often burned the midnight oil.

“In a little while, once the weather warms up completely, we’ll need to start planning for the magical herb garden and the potion workshop…” Harvey said listlessly to Egnor, slumped in a soft reclining chair the Laboratory had prepared specifically for him.

Egnor had always dreamed of personally overseeing the construction of a magical herb garden. In the past, in Araye and the other Wizard Kingdoms, he was restricted by his sensitive identity, and with no one to support him, he had never been able to achieve this wish.

Seeing that Harvey had finally agreed to include his dream project in the domain’s development plans, he couldn’t help the ecstatic expression that appeared on his face.

A brand-new magical herb garden, fully equipped with a complete set of alchemical equipment and magical devices for temperature and humidity control, was something that even in Laurien of the Golden Forest, only a nature-type spellcaster of the Grand Druid level would have the chance to own.

“My lord, what about… the matter of the potion formulas?” Egnor asked tentatively. Potion formulas were always strictly guarded secrets among the various spellcaster factions, never to be leaked. Even a spellcaster like him, who had studied diligently for ten years, only knew a few common low-level formulas and had no way of accessing mid- to high-level ones.

The formulas for many of the magical potions he currently concocted to boost stamina and enhance physical constitution had all been acquired by Harvey from the Spellcaster Forum, by “peeking” at trades and exchanges between high-level casters for free.

Harvey narrowed his eyes and said wearily, “Wait a little longer. Let’s get the garden built first. I’ll figure out a way to solve the formula issue…”

I can’t go on. I need to go back and sleep, or I’m really going to die from exhaustion…

Harvey felt his eyelids fighting to stay open. Even after drinking the recovery potion, he still felt he couldn’t hold on any longer. The grafting work on the soul seeds consumed far too much mental energy and magical energy.

He shakily pushed himself up from the reclining chair, preparing to call a soldier to help him back to his bedroom upstairs.

Just as he was about to speak, he was suddenly struck by a violent wave of dizziness. A familiar yet slightly strange sensation of the world spinning surged from the depths of his sea of consciousness like a tide, swiftly engulfing him.

He subconsciously tried to grab onto something to steady himself, but he failed.

The last thing he saw before his vision went black was Egnor and Rainer lunging toward him…

…

“What happened? Why did my lord suddenly faint? This…” Rainer gently wrapped a mechanical tentacle from his back around Harvey’s limp body, carefully placing him back in the reclining chair. He turned his head and asked Egnor anxiously.

“This shouldn’t be happening… My lord just drank the potion I prepared. Even if his body gave out, his mind should have at least remained clear… Could it be…” Egnor was also sweating profusely with anxiety. With a pale face, he stretched out his arms and quickly performed a diagnostic scan on Harvey’s entire body using a healing spell.

Rainer demanded angrily, “Was it the potion you gave my lord? Was the dosage wrong? Or was the formula incorrect?”

Egnor shook his head like a rattle-drum. “No, no, absolutely not. There’s nothing wrong with this batch of potions. I always take a dose myself before giving any to my lord.”

He lowered his hands, ending the healing spell, and said in confusion, “There’s no sign of his mental energy being completely depleted, and all his vital signs are stable… And… and the potion is slowly taking effect. What on earth happened to my lord?”

Having experienced more emergencies than Egnor, Rainer acted quickly. He used his mechanical tentacles to drag the reclining chair with Harvey in it over to the energy-gathering array. He took the mask used for soul transfer experiments, placed it directly on Harvey’s face, and immediately connected the energy supply lines.

Egnor was astonished, his voice trembling. “You’re going to… ‘charge’… my lord? Rainer, are you insane? He’s a being of flesh and blood!”

Without looking up, Rainer continued his work while explaining rapidly, “My lord’s true self sigil, the energy-gathering array, and the connection to the Spellcaster Forum are all part of one system. Since this sudden fainting wasn’t caused by an attack or poison, I suspect that something went wrong… with the Spellcaster Forum, and it’s affecting my lord himself.”

He quickly finished connecting Harvey to the energy-gathering array and immediately ordered Egnor, “Go get Mr. Astaren, quickly! He’s more experienced than us at handling these kinds of emergencies…”

When Astaren rushed into the Laboratory, Harvey was still lying quietly in the reclining chair, his eyes closed and his breathing steady.

He immediately turned and went to the “Magic Brain” instrument. With practiced ease, he entered the “smurf account” Harvey used on the Forum to hide his Administrator identity. The “Magic Brain” started up as usual, but the familiar Spellcaster Forum interface did not appear on the crystal panel.

Astaren turned around and said to the other two in a grim tone, “The connection to the Spellcaster Forum has been severed! I suspect someone has attacked my lord across planes through the Magic Net!”

Chapter 127: Hacker Defense War

What… what happened to me?

Harvey opened his eyes again and found himself in the familiar Magic Net space.

Beside him, the positioning sigil still floated – a polyhedral star of an odd shape.

This three-dimensional sigil, as dazzling as a star, still pulsated, expanding and contracting on its surface, resembling a spiky, spherical cactus.

Something’s not right! Harvey sensed that the surrounding situation was abnormal.

Why did he suddenly faint and get pulled into the Magic Net space without meditation or guidance?

Around his spiritual projection, seemingly, unseen gazes were fixed on him, full of undisguised animosity and disgust!

Someone had tracked and located Harvey through the Spellcaster Forum, or perhaps some trace he unintentionally left in the Magic Net!

The possibility sent shivers down Harvey’s spine.

What kind of powerful enemy could pinpoint his location in the boundless Plane of the Magic Net and pull him directly into it?

At that moment, Harvey suddenly felt abnormal magical energy surges around him, rapidly weaving into a dense net, swooping toward him.

Harvey immediately tried to sever the connection between his mental energy and the Magic Net space, trying to return to the real world.

Crap! He couldn’t disconnect! He tried a few more times, but still couldn’t escape.

He felt like he was trapped in the Plane of the Magic Net by an invisible lasso…

Suddenly, a surge of pure magical energy came from the positioning sigil, reconnecting Harvey to his Mental Anchor.

Harvey immediately guessed that his companions in the real world had connected his physical body to the energy-gathering array, trying to help wake him up.

Without hesitation, he manipulated his spiritual projection and plunged into the sigil.

The rapidly approaching net of magical energy behind him immediately transformed into three streams of pure white light, following Harvey’s projection into his sigil.

…

Harvey exerted all his strength to control his spiritual projection, flying toward the azure planet within the Mental Anchor.

He knew there were three mysterious figures chasing him relentlessly, their palpable malice clinging to him like a leech.

Home… getting closer.

Harvey seemed to break through an invisible membrane, and after a rapid visual shift, he felt like he had plunged into cold water.

He floundered for a few moments, swallowing several mouthfuls of salty seawater before recalling his swimming skills and struggling to swim toward the distant shoreline.

How did I fall into the sea…? Harvey struggled ashore, his mind filled with countless questions.

Looking around, he found this was a beach very familiar to him, with its light gray sand and somewhat murky dark blue water…

This was the scene he had witnessed when he first came to the seaside in his previous life.

As a child who grew up in the inland, never having seen the sea, he was finally brought by his parents to a beach that wasn’t a popular tourist spot when he graduated from high school at eighteen. What he saw then was exactly this scene.

No soft, golden sand as he had imagined, no pure, crystalline blue sea.

The weather that day wasn’t great either, gloomy as if a heavy rain was about to fall, the sea was so murky, the beach so rough.

Subconsciously, he looked down at himself and found that he was naked from the waist up, revealing the thin, frail body of a teenager, and wearing a pair of oversized swim trunks with SpongeBob cartoon prints on them.

Splash! Splash! Three figures suddenly appeared from the sky and fell into the shallow water not far away. They struggled for a while before limping ashore.

Harvey’s heart tightened, his eyes fixed on the three men in pure white robes as they slowly approached him.

“Are you… Priests of the Radiant Church?” he asked tentatively.

The other party was temporarily silent. The three men turned to look at each other. The gray-haired stranger in the middle slowly opened his mouth and said, “Is this your vile domain, Devil?”

He glanced around and sneered, “It’s completely different from what I’ve heard. Don’t you love domains made of darkness and flesh?”

Harvey frowned, completely unable to understand what the other party was talking nonsense about. He could only repeat, “Why did you attack me in the Magic Net? Was the Church behind this attack?”

The slightly shorter man on the left arrogantly raised his chin, “That’s right, we are the Church’s… Devil Slayers.”

“By the decree of Pope the Thirteenth, we have come to execute you, a high-ranking demon who attempts to invade the real world!”

Everything made sense. Someone in the Church used high-level divine art, in some unique and unknown way, to lock onto his position in the Magic Net, and then pull him into the Magic Net space, attempting to destroy his soul in the Magic Net by shattering his sigil projection.

But… why were they so hostile to him? And why did they mistake him for a Devil?

Harvey felt that he had only been forced to retaliate by killing a low-level witch hunter who was operating incognito. It shouldn’t have caused such a stir in the upper echelons of the Church, prompting them to send such a large force specifically after him.

The three Devil Slayers moved in unison, slowly approaching him.

Harvey felt that there might not be time to explain the possible misunderstanding. Even he couldn’t figure out the whole story.

He immediately raised his hand, ready to cast his instant three-circle spell – Mirror Curse.

But he found that there was no sign of magical energy surging throughout his body, as if he had completely lost his connection with the Magic Net and the positioning sigil.

The three men in front of him also raised their hands to release divine art, six arms raised to the sky, but no divine light emerged from their palms.

“Not good! This is… an Anti-Magic Domain?” the gray-haired man roared. The three immediately abandoned their divine art attacks and lunged at Harvey, who was also dumbfounded.

Damn it, Church Priests playing hand-to-hand combat with a research-type Spellcaster! Harvey cursed inwardly, but his body very honestly turned around and ran like hell.

He had only run a few steps when he was immediately caught up by a Devil Slayer who tackled him to the ground.

The other party held his muscular arm, tightly strangling Harvey’s slender neck, seemingly wanting to strangle him to death.

A deafening thunderclap suddenly echoed in the cloudy sky.

A scream suddenly reached Harvey’s ears, who was about to suffocate and faint. He struggled to pry open the Devil Slayer’s strong arm, and when he turned his head, he was horrified to find that the other party’s body seemed to be stuck to his.

Harvey’s originally thin, teenage body suddenly cracked open with deep red fissures on his limbs, chest, and abdomen. From these cracks, countless dense, sharp teeth appeared, firmly biting the Spellcaster who attacked Harvey, constantly emitting a terrifying chewing and sucking sound.

The Devil Slayer’s skin dissolved rapidly, as if corroded by strong acid, revealing the bright red flesh and tendons beneath. He opened his mouth wide and screamed, unable to stop the horrific scene from happening.

Another Devil Slayer pounced over, wanting to save his companion, but when he just touched the other party’s body, he was also firmly adhered to it, unable to break free no matter how much he screamed and struggled.

Another terrifying sound of chewing, tearing, and swallowing echoed. The two Devil Slayers who were firmly attached to Harvey instantly disappeared into the cracks that suddenly appeared on Harvey’s body, as if they had been dissolved.

Harvey staggered to his feet, suddenly feeling an uncontrollable nausea. He lowered his head and gagged, but found he couldn’t vomit anything.

The sound of cracking thunder continued to rumble in the sky.

He straightened up and looked at the last Devil Slayer, who was already paralyzed on the ground, trembling constantly, and slowly walked towards him.

Chapter 128: The Legendary Caster’s Probe

In the officer’s dormitory of the Northern Army barracks, Vaughn was humming a crooked tune while polishing his army boots when Dav pushed the door open and walked in.

“It’s a day off today. You really not going out to relax a bit?” The half-orc officer rubbed his hands together, looking at his brother with anticipation. “I heard those processed food shops in the Market District have come out with a lot of new tasty treats…”

Without looking up, Vaughn continued with his task. “Can’t you just stay in the barracks for one day? Pay more attention to the condition of the soldiers under you, read the tactical manuals issued from on high more often…”

He looked up and pointed to the swollen wound on Dav’s head, close to his left ear. “And that injury on your head, remember to go to the field hospital to get the stitches removed. The medic already reminded you. If you don’t get them out on time, they’ll grow into the wound, and you’ll be in for a world of hurt then.”

Dav touched the still-red and swollen wound and grinned. “It’s no big deal, just a scratch on the scalp.”

He hesitated a moment before asking, “I heard the garrison at the River Valley Outpost… is going to be cut in half, leaving only a basic guard and patrol force… So, what tasks will we have after this?”

As spring was approaching and the weather grew warmer, the various vile orc tribes scattered across the Icefield River Valley began herding their slaves and livestock, returning to their old homes deep in the barren lands.

Vaughn and the others had long heard from the refugees who fled from the north that after the Demons had swept through the vile orcs’ Royal Court like lightning, they had silently withdrawn their troops. This meant the vile orcs, who had been forced to migrate for the winter, could return to their home without any trouble.

This also meant that the Northern Army, which made up two-thirds of the Lord’s entire military, was about to lose its primary combat objective. For a long time to come, they would likely be bored to tears in the barracks.

“If there are no combat missions, then we’ll just stay in the barracks and train. What’s the problem?”

“But without combat missions, we, the expeditionary force, will have those Softies from the Defense Force who cower in the territory lording it over us!” Wayne piped up, having just slipped into the officer’s quarters to join Vaughn and Dav’s discussion.

Vaughn shot Wayne a warning glare, cutting off his impending rant about the subtle rivalry between the two forces. “Commander Pierce has said that the Lord’s army must be a united, monolithic force. Don’t go spouting this divisive nonsense in the future, or I’ll whip the both of you…”

Wayne’s eyes darted around, and he quickly changed the subject. “I heard that the survey teams, the ones who are always wandering the barren lands with their alchemical beasts, have discovered another natural mineral vein on the edge of the swamp west of the territory…”

He leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, “It seems there are traces of a Demon unit having been stationed at that vein. I suspect…”

But Dav cut him off with a look of delight. “Demons? Does that mean… we might be getting a battle plan against the Demons next? I’ve never fought those big guys covered in scales before. I wonder how many shots from a Magical Energy Gun their bodies can take.”

Vaughn quickly waved his hands to stop them from continuing the conversation. “Don’t go shouting about operational orders that haven’t been officially released. Do you two want to be thrown in solitary confinement?”

More than a week had passed since Harvey had been unexpectedly pulled into the Magic Net space.

According to Astaren and the others, he had been unconscious for about half an hour. During that time, Rainer and the others had tried every method they could think of to wake him, all to no avail.

Harvey himself was well aware that after being forced to devour the last Demon Slayer who had invaded his Mental Anchor in that utterly terrifying and nauseating manner, he had immediately lost all sensation. When he opened his eyes again, he was back in the real world.

This sudden and unexpected attack forced him to once again take the mutated sigil and the beach within his Mental Anchor seriously.

Whether that beach, which was clearly a simulation of a memory from his past life, was some kind of inherent trait of a Transmigrator, Harvey still didn’t know.

But he had to figure out why he had suddenly undergone such a horrifying physical mutation there, with countless grotesque fissures opening up on his body to swallow the three invading Demon Slayers whole.

He had to find a definitive answer and clues to this question as soon as possible, and the only place he could seek help was the Magic Net Forum, which was filled with high-level casters.

Astaren had mentioned that when he fell unconscious, the Magic Net Forum had simultaneously lost its energy connection to the energy-gathering array. It didn’t successfully restart until after Harvey had woken up.

This was completely different from the previous crash caused by the experiment. Although this had happened late at night, there were still quite a few active members on the Forum at the time. The nearly hour-long disconnection had sparked a great deal of discussion among them.

When Harvey logged into the Forum using the Administrator handle “Turing,” he immediately received several polite inquiries from members with high prestige.

[The Scorching Sovereign: Esteemed Mr. Turing, the members of the spellcaster community have all expressed their concern about the Forum’s sudden disconnection the other day. Would it be possible to disclose some of the reasons? If member cooperation and assistance are required… could a conference be convened as soon as possible?]

The Legendary Caster’s speech was always so formal and proper. Harvey understood the deeper meaning behind his message. They likely believed the root of the network problem was that he had run into some trouble. They wanted to know if the trouble was resolved, if it would affect the Forum’s stability, and to express that all founding members would unconditionally support the Forum—that if he needed their help, he just had to ask.

The subsequent inquiries from “Hand of Elements,” “Ghost Captain,” and the others were largely the same, differing only in their more respectful and polite tone and wording. After all, their own levels and ranks as spellcasters were nowhere near that of “The Scorching Sovereign,” so naturally, they didn’t dare to communicate with Harvey as equals.

Harvey sat before the “Magic Brain” and thought for a moment before replying to the Legendary Caster who was closely monitoring the situation.

[Administrator Turing: Thank you for your concern, Mr. Scorching Sovereign. The Spellcaster Forum did indeed experience a small incident a few days ago. To be precise, I ran into a bit of trouble, but the issue has been resolved. The Forum is running well now, so there’s no need to worry.]

Just a few minutes after he sent the reply, another message came back, as if the Legendary Caster had been waiting right in front of his “Magic Brain” for a response.

[The Scorching Sovereign: If you don’t mind my impertinence, Mr. Turing, I would like to inquire about the specific nature of this incident. Please forgive my directness. After all, everyone greatly cherishes the opportunity and privilege of joining the Forum. We are willing to voluntarily contribute to the Forum’s security and stability…]

Reading his message, Harvey keenly sensed a slight probing move from the other party.

Since the Administrator running into trouble could trigger a chain reaction that crashed the Forum, it meant that the Administrator himself was not as mysteriously powerful and beyond mortals as they had imagined—at least not nearly omnipotent like a god or an ancient divine being.

However, in the end, he still expressed a cooperative stance, stating that the spellcasters stood on the same side as him in jointly safeguarding the Forum’s interests. This was also a sort of roundabout pledge of loyalty.

This was exactly the main purpose of Harvey’s insinuations—to correct their initial perceptions.

It was fine to act impressive, but you couldn’t overdo it. Otherwise, the longer he interacted with these highly intelligent, high-level casters, the greater the risk of exposing his true nature.

“Mr. Turing is indeed a mysterious and powerful being, but not an omniscient, omnipotent god holding divine authority. He too will occasionally encounter troubles that require His intervention,” Harvey chuckled to himself. The role he was about to play seemed perfectly reasonable.

[Administrator Turing: Heh, no need to be overly concerned. It was merely a few insignificant bugs. I periodically enter a state of slumber, and it seems Pope XIII of the Luminous Theocracy saw this as a rare opportunity. So, they dispatched their Demon Slayers to try and invade the Forum, hoping to take the chance to destroy this paradise where spellcasters can communicate freely…]

Chapter 129: The Devouring of Flesh and the Soul Beach

In the City of Grace, Goris, deep underground within the Arcane Section of the Inquisition.

The Thirteenth Pope and Bishop Tosa Ismael stood in a large hall, gazing in silence at three giant crystal pillars standing in the center.

These three artificially polished and constructed crystal pillars were hollow and filled with a pale red, transparent liquid. Three brawny, muscular men were submerged within, their bodies connected to a dense network of fine black tubes inserted all over them.

The other end of these vein-like black tubes was connected to a black crystal, fixed on a bracket at the top of each pillar.

As time passed, the black crystals were slowly fading, gradually turning into the dull, lusterless form of ordinary stones.

“Your Holiness… did we succeed?” Ismael asked hesitantly, his gaze fixed on the black crystal suspended above the pillar with a complex expression.

The aged, stooped Pope remained silent. Instead, a middle-aged man in a pure white robe standing behind them was the first to speak.

“These three are among the most powerful Demon Slayers the Inquisition has cultivated in the last thirty years. I believe they will not fail.” As the Chief Inquisitor of the Inquisition, he had more than enough experience to predict the outcome of this operation.

The three men present knew all too well the blood, sweat, and resources the Church poured into cultivating a single qualified Demon Slayer. They were selected from countless thousands of believers as children with dark bloodline talents, and for ten years, they were continuously made to consume a special secret medicine prepared by the Church.

This medicine would greatly enhance their ability to perceive and locate the Magic Net space, but the price was that they would lose most of their ordinary senses in the real world, becoming lifelong cripples without hearing, smell, or sight.

The Army of Judgment, responsible for their specialized training, would then use a unique method of tactile perception to teach them how to cast divine arts and hone their combat skills. They would grow up in endless darkness and silence, clinging to an absolute fanaticism for the God of Glory, until they became qualified Demon Slayers.

In their entire lives, they would only ever follow a single decree from the Pope: to undertake the glorious, one-way mission of offering their souls to my Lord. It was a mission they would embark on only once, with no return.

This was because before these Demon Slayers fully entered the Magic Net for trans-planar combat, all the blood in their bodies would be extracted and condensed into the Church’s Soul-Transferring Divine Stone by a secret art, directly transforming their fleshly bodies into pure mental energy Constructs.

Whether they succeeded or failed, they could never return to the real world.

“At times like this, we can often only pray to my Lord…” the Pope finally said in a low voice after a long silence.

At his words, Ismael piously bowed his head and began to softly recite the glorious prayers inscribed in the holy book.

“Wait! Look… Th-this, why is this happening?” the Chief Inquisitor’s eyes suddenly widened. He pointed at the abrupt change within the crystal pillars, his voice trembling in horror.

Ismael looked up again and was horrified to see that the bodies of the three Demon Slayers submerged in the crystal pillars had suddenly begun to disintegrate. First their skin… then the muscle tissue beneath, and finally even their organs and bones dissolved rapidly as if weathered away, until no trace of their existence remained in the pale red liquid.

It was true that Demon Slayers could not return alive after entering the Magic Net, but their bodies could usually be preserved and interred as divinely favored ones in the Hall of Sacred Remains beneath the Church of Glory. In Ismael’s decades of experience, he had never encountered a bizarre scene like the one today.

“We… have failed.” The Pope also watched this scene with a complex expression. “On the Lamps of Revelation, the soul fire representing that high-ranking demon has not been extinguished…”

…

Harvey could never quite shake his unease about the beach within his Mental Anchor.

Generally, a Spellcaster’s Mental Anchor was derived from their accumulated knowledge or beliefs. These ethereal anchor points only existed within the sigils as various directional runes, most often common symbols like books, gems, or swords. The Mental Anchors of some powerful Spellcasters might even manifest as rare forms like towers, great beasts, or trees.

Harvey had inadvertently peeked at a private conversation on the Forum where Mr. “Heart of the Forest,” whose real identity was suspected to be a high-level caster of the nature school, mentioned that his Mental Anchor was a giant bear of the dense forest.

For a Mental Anchor like Harvey’s—a massive planet representing his origins and past—it was likely unprecedented in all of history. Not to mention that his Mental Anchor had actually manifested a strange beach from the memories of his past life.

The more Harvey thought about it, the more peculiarities he found.

Logically, if a Transmigrator’s Mental Anchor was bound to undergo such a significant mutation, shouldn’t the manifested scene be a place he was more familiar with, a place with which he had deeper ties?

For instance, the old communal apartment building he had lived in for over ten years, the cozy two-bedroom home, or his own small bedroom.

Even his school, the nearby internet cafe, or the snack street he visited daily would have made more sense…

But of all places, it was this desolate beach he had visited only once—a place that had disappointed him so much he had no desire to ever recall it.

To completely solve this mystery, aside from finding an opportunity to indirectly probe for research about Mental Anchors on the Spellcaster Forum, his only other option was to personally enter it and actively seek the answers himself.

…

After actively connecting to the energy-gathering array, Harvey once again entered the Mental Anchor located within his sigils.

Fortunately, this time he didn’t smash into the sea from mid-air, sparing him the ordeal of choking on water and having to struggle back to shore.

This time, however, the three Demon Slayers who had somehow managed to lock him down and keep him stranded in the Plane of the Magic Net were gone from the deserted beach, so Harvey felt much calmer.

In any case, he couldn’t perceive or draw upon the Magic Net’s energy in this space. If any unknown danger arose, he could choose to leave at any time. Or perhaps, he could try to trigger the bizarre crevice mutations on his body again; it would be a good chance to observe and study them.

Harvey discovered that he was once again in the scrawny, newly-adult body he’d had when he visited the beach in his past life, dressed in oversized swim trunks. It seemed that entering this place automatically changed a person’s appearance and state to match their experience of the original scene.

The invading Demon Slayers, however, had not changed. This was probably because they weren’t Transmigrators, possessing only a single identity in the real world.

He stood on the beach, cautiously observing his surroundings for a moment before he began to walk, his bare feet treading on the coarse sand as he slowly explored along the coastline.

The seawater was murky, and the sky held the same gloomy appearance of an impending storm.

The rhythmic sound of waves lapping against the shore reached Harvey’s ears, and he felt an inexplicable sense of peace and calm wash over him. More fragmented memories of this beach surfaced in his mind.

A slightly larger wave crashed upon the sand. Harvey’s eyes narrowed. As the water receded, he noticed something new on the beach, something the wave had just brought in from the sea.

He quickly walked over to investigate and saw three perfectly round, transparent, fist-sized crystal spheres lying on the sand.

Not daring to touch them directly, Harvey crouched down for a closer look.

The three transparent spheres seemed to be filled with liquid, and inside each one was a miniature infant embryo.

These strange embryos, no bigger than pigeon’s eggs, were submerged in the unknown liquid within the spheres, curled up with their eyes tightly shut, just like real babies in a mother’s womb.

Chapter 130: Harvey the Scapegoat

[Spellshield: So you’re saying this Forum disconnection was because those hounds from the Church sniffed their way to our door?]

[Son of Flame: Hmph, they’re not just any hounds. Those are the Demon Slayers, the Church’s powerful weapon used to assassinate high-level casters during the war of the past century.]

[Man in the Mirror: I heard the number of Demon Slayers they’ve trained has dropped significantly in recent decades. Besides, the pact between the Federation and the Church clearly states that they won’t unilaterally dispatch Demon Slayers to assassinate high-level casters during the alliance…]

[Son of Flame: A superficial pact isn’t worth the paper it’s written on. Everyone knows that better than anyone. Have there been any shortages of under-the-table skirmishes and conflicts?]

[Spellshield: But why did they go after Mr. Turing? Didn’t His Excellency, The Scorching Sovereign, hint that He is not human, but some kind of ancient being?]

[Son of Flame: We speculate they probably intended to invade the Forum and attack us members, but Mr. Turing noticed and swatted them dead.]

Fell Hoden ended his private discussion with his small group on the Forum. With a grave expression, he rose from the “Magic Brain” device and walked over to his study window, lost in thought.

To the mysterious and powerful Mr. Turing, this attack was no more than casually swatting a few flies in his sleep. But for all the Spellcaster members of the Forum, its significance was entirely different.

After several decades, the Church had once again dispatched the Demon Slayers, their main force against high-level casters in the past.

He had a faint feeling that it might have been their recent online plot for revenge against the witch hunter groups that provoked such a drastic reaction from the Church.

If that was the case, then he and the other Forum members who had led and participated in the affair owed Mr. Turing a huge favor. Fell, at least, was not completely confident he could withstand a cross-planar attack from a Demon Slayer via the Magic Net. After all, he couldn’t possibly enter the Magic Net through meditation twenty-four hours a day to maintain a prolonged passive defense.

From his Master’s tone, Mr. Turing himself didn’t seem to think much of the attack, nor did he take any credit for helping the Forum members.

But Fell knew he couldn’t be so ungrateful. Just because Mr. Turing hadn’t mentioned it didn’t mean he could play dumb. He had to find something of interest to offer Him as a token of gratitude for His intervention.

“Tonight, when the Forum is more active, I’ll contact Stormwalker and the others to see what they think. We can discuss what to offer to please this mysterious, powerful, yet gentle and friendly Forum administrator.”

…

Meanwhile, the completely oblivious “great Forum administrator, Mr. Turing,” was currently floating in the Magic Net space as a mental energy projection, speaking face-to-face with Mr. Mind Devil, who had arrived for their scheduled meeting.

“Demon Slayers? I haven’t heard that name in a very, very long time…” The Mind Devil was still a deep red, illusory, and distorted humanoid figure, a slit resembling an eyeball split open on its head. “A long time ago, I believe, powerful humans called Demon Slayers did use secret arts to enter the other dimension where my kind resides. They fought us in fierce battles…”

His voice grew deeper as if he were sinking into distant memories. “However, the Demon Slayers usually target high-level casters and the Devil race. There’s no reason they would come specifically for you…”

Harvey was silent for a moment before voicing his suspicion. “That’s why I asked to meet you. I wanted to know if, after coming into contact with a high-ranking demon like yourself, one might be mistaken for a Devil…”

He paused, continuing with a hint of speechlessness, “After all, when those three Demon Slayers attacked me, they kept calling me an evil high-ranking demon.”

Now it was Mr. Mind Devil’s turn to fall into an awkward silence.

“Er… your guess… has a certain possibility.” He mimicked human emotional habits, giving a deliberately awkward cough. “In the past, there do seem to have been Spellcasters who had close contact with my kind. Because they provided us with Votive Power, a mental connection of a certain degree was formed between us…”

After his earnest explanation, he couldn’t help but add reassuringly, “But you don’t need to worry too much. As long as you don’t frequently interact with me in the real world, and I don’t absorb Votive Power originating from you, this connection between us will slowly fade over time. Then those Demon Slayers won’t be able to track you anymore.”

So that was it. He was so thoroughly steeped in a Devil’s aura that he had attracted those Church Demon Slayers who were following the scent. This was a classic case of taking the fall for a Devil—a disaster that had nothing to do with him.

“In that case, for safety’s sake, let’s postpone the visit we had planned. How about I invite you over once I’ve figured out a way to hide my location on the Magic Net?”

The Mind Devil’s illusory, distorted, deep red figure trembled violently, as if it had suddenly suffered a massive blow. For a moment, the two faced each other in silence.

It made Harvey cringe with embarrassment.

As expected of a high-ranking demon who commanded the power of the mind. His skill in psychological manipulation was so potent he didn’t even need to speak a word of temptation to make Harvey guilt-trip himself.

“Didn’t you absorb a lot of Votive Power in my pioneer territories last time?”

The Mind Devil sighed. “It was indeed a lot. But you must understand, among the descriptions that the races of the real world have for us, words like evil, bloodthirsty, twisted, and chaotic might not be entirely accurate. But… ‘greedy’ is absolutely true.”

“Otherwise, there wouldn’t have been cases in the past of Devils being summoned to the real world and, out of greed, luring the human nations into chaos.”

Harvey recalled the historical texts he had read and could only nod in agreement.

“But rest assured, I am one of the more self-disciplined among Devils. Since this accident has occurred, let’s postpone our meeting in the real world. I will visit you after you’ve found a way to hide your location…”

After these pretentious pleasantries, the Mind Devil changed the subject, making a proposal that greatly interested Harvey.

“Since I can’t go to the real world, why don’t we change our meeting place to here? Hehe, I just recently discovered an interesting place. It seems to be the projected ruin of an ancient creature.”

He chuckled and asked Harvey, “What do you say? Are you interested in entering the ruin with me? We might find some interesting things, perhaps even a piece of ancient history, long lost and sealed in dust.”

Harvey immediately thought of his last adventure with The Scorching Sovereign and the others to the spatial fissure, and the bountiful knowledge he had gained from it. He was instantly tempted by the Mind Devil’s proposal.

“Let me think about it for a while. After all, I was just attacked.”

He paused, then added, “If you don’t mind, I’d also like to invite some members from the Spellcaster Forum to join this exploration. But I’ll inform them beforehand that you will be in charge of distributing any rewards from our expedition. What do you think?”

The Mind Devil chuckled. “No problem. I’ll wait for your reply.”

Chapter 131: The Trolley Problem

Max woke up bright and early, put on his thick probationary officer uniform, said a hasty goodbye to his mother, Jenna, who was also about to leave, and hurried to his new workplace—the Pioneer Territories Police Department.

In the spacious first-floor conference room, many probationary officers who had arrived even earlier than him were already seated at the long conference table, waiting. After a quick scan of the room, Max familiarly took the empty seat next to Yuliao.

The first batch of probationary officers recruited by the Police Department numbered around fifty. About half of them were disabled veterans, while a few others were unlucky souls like him, either born with deformities or disabled by accidents later in life.

However, they all had one thing in common: they were all refugees of humble birth from the Northern Barren Lands. Not a single one was a civilian refugee from the nations of the south.

Mr. Astaren’s previous promises had all been fulfilled. Under the personal supervision of Lord Harvey, all the disabled individuals had undergone incredible limb reconstruction surgery. Apart from a few with severe disabilities who still needed time to recuperate, the others had adapted to their new metal limbs in a short period and quickly returned to their probationary posts.

As a result, the overall appearance of this police force was quite intimidating. Most of them were equipped with formidable-looking, sturdy metal arms, or sleek and powerful mechanical prosthetic legs.

Max also noticed, with his sharp eyes, that one of the former soldiers had even had his blind eye replaced. It was now a crystalline eyeball that glowed with a dangerous, deep red light, just like Mr. Astaren’s.

It was said that this new prosthetic eye had special capabilities, allowing him to see as clearly as day even in the pitch-black of night, with vision far superior to that of a normal person.

This made Max, who had already grown accustomed to the powerful functions of his mechanical leg, incredibly envious. He wished he could have a pair of those night-vision eyes for himself.

A short while later, Mr. Astaren walked into the conference room carrying a thick stack of paper documents. The crowd, which had been murmuring quietly, immediately fell silent.

Yuliao promptly stood up, took the documents from his hands, and quickly distributed them to everyone.

Today was the day of their theoretical professional assessment, a key factor that would determine whether they could remain at the Police Department after completing the first phase of their training.

Having studied at the literacy night school for nearly a year, Max wasn’t worried about being unable to read the test paper. However, after receiving the thin sheet, he, like most of the others, was completely dumbfounded.

He could understand every word and short sentence on it, but when they were combined to form the test questions, they left him frozen in place, pen in hand. What were these strange questions?

For example: You are a patrol soldier who encounters a criminal holding ten civilians hostage in a house. He threatens you, demanding that you hand over his enemy and kill this enemy on the spot, in front of him. Only then will he release the ten innocent civilians. Otherwise, he will set the house on fire, taking them all down with him… It is known that the criminal’s enemy is not actually a wrongdoer but is someone the criminal holds a personal grudge against. Do you kill the criminal’s enemy to ensure the safety of the ten civilians, or do you refuse the criminal’s request and watch the innocents perish in the flames…? How would you choose? Please state your reasoning in a few simple words.

The question was completely baffling. Both sides were innocent civilians of the territory; no one should have to pay with their precious life because of a criminal’s madness. Although, looking at the numbers, killing one person to save ten might seem like the most practical choice, he felt that if he truly faced such a situation, he probably wouldn’t be able to do it.

Is choosing to let one innocent person die for the sake of others the only right answer?

All the questions on the test paper were similar ethical dilemmas. The hand Max used to grip his pen trembled slightly, and beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. Was this really not a deliberate attempt to make things difficult for them?

He secretly glanced sideways at Yuliao, who was also working on the test beside him. Yuliao was Lord Harvey’s hand-picked choice for the Police Department’s first police superintendent, destined to take over management from Mr. Astaren. Max wanted to see how this former military man would handle these difficult questions.

But as soon as he turned his head, he found Yuliao turning to look at him at the exact same moment, his gaze filled with confusion and a silent plea for help…

The probationary officers’ daily training ground was a small, specially enclosed drill yard behind the Police Department. After completing the difficult theoretical assessment that morning, most of them looked dispirited. They gathered listlessly, waiting for the afternoon’s outdoor training session.

Yuliao blew his whistle to assemble the ranks. Everyone pulled themselves together and lined up. Only then did Astaren, who was standing to the side, speak: “The morning assessment is over. Those of you who have barely met the standard are, from this day forward, official preparatory officers.”

Max then realized that of the nearly forty probationary officers, fewer than twenty-five remained. Most of them were veterans who had undergone limb reconstruction surgery. Only he and one other young man were from ordinary civilian backgrounds.

It seemed that absurd morning exam was no joke after all; it was genuinely meant to weed people out.

“For the next two weeks, you will all live in the officer dormitories behind the Police Department and undergo specialized training. Just like the theoretical assessment, those who pass will stay, and those who fail will be eliminated immediately. I and your temporary captain, Yuliao, will personally oversee this special training. Understood?”

Yuliao then stepped forward, said a few brief words, and began arranging the dormitory assignments.

Max took off the dark grey uniform he had worn for a week without washing and changed into a brand-new one of the same style that had just been issued. He immediately felt much warmer.

The style was identical, but the new uniform was made of thick leather on the outside with a cotton lining sewn inside. It offered the warmth and durability of leather without sacrificing the softness of cotton. This uniform alone, if sold at the Public Market, would probably be worth half a month of Max’s intern salary.

He also made an interesting observation: the uniforms for army soldiers and officers were deep black, and for city hall officials they were dark blue, while the Police Department’s were dark grey. Although the three styles were basically similar, the colors were deliberately distinct.

Max, of course, preferred his own police uniform. Although the color was less striking than the others, the shoulders, collar, and cuffs were embroidered with silver thread patterns and trim, making it look very sharp. It was also a perfect fit, making him look energetic and spirited. He couldn’t help but puff out his chest a little more as he walked.

“Not bad. This improved version of the officer’s uniform seems to suit you all better,” Astaren said with a satisfied smile, looking at the group who had finished their room assignments and changed uniforms. “There will be no more training exercises today. After dinner in the dining hall, you can have some free time, but you must assemble for roll call before lights out.”

“Tomorrow, the next phase of your training will officially begin. I hope you are all prepared to face the challenge…”

Chapter 132: A New Police Story

The long winter, which had lasted a full four months, officially came to an end as the last thin layer of snow finally melted away.

This also meant that the Northern Barren Lands would soon welcome the rejuvenating spring, a time to begin the new year’s sowing and tilling of the fertile soil.

Most of the native people of the barren lands did not have the custom of celebrating the new year. For them, the transition from winter to spring was often a life-or-death struggle against starvation. Many of the frail elderly and young couldn’t even make it until the ground thawed enough to dig for cassava to fill their stomachs.

The average lifespan of these human refugees and half-orc serfs, who lived at the bottom of the barren lands’ food chain, was not even forty years—worse than even the lowliest landless hired hands in the warm south.

This was the first winter in Max’s entire life where he had enough food to eat, warm clothes to wear, and a stable place to live. By the streets of the Residential Area, the snowmen built by children had melted down to their bases. Still, many kids scooped up the mud-stained remnants of snow, rolled them into balls, and threw them at each other, filling the streets with sounds of boisterous laughter early in the morning.

For an adult like Max, the melting snow was extremely annoying. It would make his cotton shoes damp and moldy, and if it soaked through, his entire foot would freeze.

In the old days, most refugees would be huddled in the earthen pits they had dug before winter, shivering under tattered animal hides. They would also have to constantly worry about the snow collapsing the pit and burying them alive.

As Max recalled the past, he subconsciously stomped his feet to shake the mud from his gleaming leather boots. Fortunately, he was wearing the officially issued boots; otherwise, the daily patrol alone would have been a miserable experience.

During the winter, the pioneer territories had people clearing the snow from the streets every day. They used large brooms made of branches and wooden poles to sweep it to the sides of the street. This was a long-term temporary job posted by the Municipal Center with daily wages. Even the elderly with somewhat nimble hands could manage it, earning themselves a hot, filling meal.

The closer he got to the Municipal Center and the industrial district, the more pedestrians filled the streets. Most were dressed in thick cotton or leather clothing, all hurrying to their workplaces.

Max loved this vibrant scene. It made his own patrol steps feel much lighter, and he quickly completed the first round of his daily route.

Next, he needed to head to the refugee reception point set up by the Municipal Center at the north gate of the territory’s wall. His job was to assist the municipal staff stationed there daily in maintaining basic order at the city gate.

By the time Max arrived at the north gate, a crowd of over a hundred people had already gathered. Barked at by soldiers carrying guns, they had formed several crooked lines, slowly approaching the wooden-sheltered refugee reception point for the first round of identity verification and information registration.

“Reporting! Max Anton, probationary officer of the Police Department, here to assist.”

A young military officer, his throat hoarse from shouting into a tinplate megaphone, waved at him, then pointed to the reception point closest to the gate, signaling him to hurry over and help.

“You’re in charge of keeping the lines in order. Then help the physicians from the infirmary hand out the anti-plague potions. You have to watch them drink it with your own eyes. Don’t get careless or slack off…” The official in charge of registering refugees was also swamped and quickly beckoned for Max, this fresh pair of hands, to join his work group.

“Understood!”

Max thought the job sounded simple enough, not much different from when he first arrived in the territory and soldiers had pointed their guns at them, ordering them to line up for wheat porridge.

He walked to the front of the checkpoint and, mimicking the military officer, began to shout loudly while pulling out the baton from his waist and brandishing it. Probationary officers were not authorized to carry firearms; this smoothly polished and easy-to-handle wooden baton was their only weapon.

Max felt its impact was probably less damaging than a light kick from him.

“Name? Where are you from? Do you have any survival skills you’re good at?”

Every refugee in the line was questioned by a staff member from the Municipal Center and their answers were recorded. However, they almost never asked about literacy unless the person brought it up themselves, as the illiteracy rate among the people of the barren lands was nearly one hundred percent.

Max had even met half-orcs who couldn’t count properly.

This was only the first round of screening. After they entered the temporary refugee reception area near the city wall, there would be further investigation and verification. It was said that among the Defense Force soldiers, there was a small squad with extensive interrogation experience specifically responsible for this task.

“My name is Hook. I’m from the barren lands. Uh… I’m good at… I’m good at farming. I can’t read.”

The official in charge of registration paused for a moment, looked up, and repeated, “Farming?” After the man nodded, he quickly drew a circle on the form. “Alright, you’ve passed. Go over there and wait with the others…”

Max, who happened to be standing nearby, overheard this brief exchange. He couldn’t help but glance at the man, who was draped in an animal-hide cloak, and noticed that his cloak looked very new, without any signs of mold or holes.

It looked as if it had just been bought from a clothing store in the Public Market…

“Wait!” he blurted out, stopping the man who was about to leave.

“Wh-what is it?”

Staring into the man’s somewhat shifty eyes, Max asked in a low voice, “From the barren lands? And you can farm? Which vile orc tribe’s serf were you?”

The registering official looked up, puzzled. “The screening process doesn’t require these questions, does it? As long as he can farm, it doesn’t matter which tribe he was a serf for…”

But Max shook his head and pressed on regardless, “After spring begins, in which month should cassava stems be planted in the soil? And how long do they need to grow before they can be harvested?”

The man hesitated for a moment but still didn’t answer.

By now, Max had drawn his baton and closed in on the man. “A farmer from the barren lands, yet you’re wearing a reindeer hide cloak of such fine quality. You don’t look like you’ve suffered much from a long journey as a refugee at all.”

He seized the man’s hand and squeezed the wrist joint, forcing his fist to open and display his palm.

“People of the barren lands don’t get their hands covered in frostbite! We spend our years digging for food in the snow-covered earth; we adapted to this temperature long ago!”

Now the municipal official also sensed that something was wrong. He yelled for the nearby soldiers, who moved to help Max pin the man to the ground.

But the man suddenly grit his teeth, yanked his hand back, and turned to shout at several people at the back of the line, “Run!”

Max swung his baton fiercely, smashing it heavily into the man’s back. With a dull thud, he knocked him straight to the ground, then planted his mechanical prosthetic leg on top of him. No matter how hard the man struggled, it was useless.

Seeing this, four or five refugees at the end of the line immediately turned and sprinted towards the city gate. Several soldiers raised their guns and ordered them to stop, but they paid no heed.

The soldiers were left with no choice but to open fire. They aimed for their legs, quickly bringing the men down. The power of the Magical Energy Guns was immense; each of them had a leg blown clean off. The shattered limbs and blood splattered across the ground, terrifying the nearby refugees, who broke out in a chorus of screams.

The scene instantly descended into chaos.

Chapter 133: Pacifying the Refugees

The bloody, brutal scene of a Defense Force soldier brazenly shooting a fleeing refugee sparked a riot among the hundreds gathered near the reception point.

More Defense Force soldiers surrounded them with weapons raised, but the scene was a chaotic mix of screams and curses. The situation was gradually spiraling out of control, and many refugees, driven by fear and panic, began to run for the city gate as well.

Max spotted the young officer with the tin megaphone, who was now trapped on the outskirts of the crowded mob. Sweat beaded on the officer’s forehead as he struggled in vain to push through. Several times, he nearly reached for the rifle on his back, but he couldn’t bring himself to shoot at the terrified crowd.

He took a step, then pushed off hard with his leg. The mechanical prosthetic let out a crisp sound of meshing parts as Max launched himself high into the air, clearing several rows of people before landing right beside the young officer.

While the officer was still frozen in wide-mouthed astonishment, Max grabbed his weapon sling and yanked him free from the crowd. If he hadn’t helped him, the officer would have likely been knocked down and trampled to death by the frantic mob.

“Give me the megaphone!” Max snatched the tin megaphone from the officer’s hands, brought it to his lips, and began to roar with the booming voice that was the pride of any man from the barren lands.

“Quiet! Quiet! Everybody, freeze! Get down on the ground! Or you can just wait to die!”

Many in the chaotic crowd had seen his terrifying leap over their heads and had caught sight of his strange mechanical leg. With looks of awe and fear, they slowly began to crouch down.

“Don’t be afraid, everyone! I’m one of you, a man from the barren lands. Just one year ago, I was taken in by this territory, just like you.”

“The soldiers won’t harm you without reason! What just happened was because we have thugs and spies in our midst! Those damn southerners, disguising themselves to get in here and steal our livelihoods!”

If Harvey himself had been there to hear this tirade, he probably would have smacked Max upside the head on the spot and cursed him for being a prejudiced fool.

But at that moment, his words struck a chord with the refugees.

Besides the vile orcs who had enslaved and oppressed them, the people of the barren lands hated no one more than these southerners who had fled north to snatch food from their mouths.

Even though they were all suffering, it was a timeless truth that people in the same predicament often become the bitterest of rivals.

“Listen to me, my kinsmen! You’re all here like I was, having heard the news and come seeking a new life under the Lord. The pioneer territories can give you a warm place to shelter from the wind and rain, and food to fill your bellies! And as long as you work hard, you can earn a generous wage. This is all real—I swear there’s no deception!”

“Look at me! Look at this leather tunic, and my shoes! These are the kinds of fine things you can get just by working. There’s also hearty meat porridge and soft bread. Just this morning, I was sitting by my own hearth at home, enjoying a meal just like that…”

Gulp. Someone swallowed hard. The sound was followed by a chorus of growls from empty stomachs. Max’s speech may have been a rambling, illogical mess, but it had clearly moved everyone present.

Fear and panic gradually faded, successfully transformed into hunger and longing. All they had to do was follow the rules, line up to register, and honestly state their origins and identities. Soon, they would be taken to the refugee reception area, where they would be given a tent to shelter them from the wind. For lunch, there would be steaming hot meat porridge and soft wheat cakes.

Before they formally signed their contracts and began working, two meals a day would be provided for free. This would continue for half a month, until they were recruited by various production departments and moved into low-rent concrete houses.

…

Astaren led Max to the Lord’s Castle. It was only then that Harvey, sitting behind his desk, recognized him as the familiar face on whom he himself had performed limb reconstruction surgery.

“I heard that during the refugee disturbance at the city gate today, you were the first to spot the problem and then managed to stabilize the situation?”

Max, his face full of fervor, emulated the soldiers and knelt on one knee. “Yes, My lord.”

Harvey set down his book and continued with a smile, “Tell me, how did you notice there was something wrong with that person who was trying to sneak into the territory with a hidden identity?”

Max struggled to control his excitement as he recounted his thought process from that moment, just as it had happened.

“Such sharp observation! I recall Egnor once saw you at the Public Market, standing up for a half-orc resident who was being discriminated against…”

Max’s face instantly flushed crimson, and he lowered his head in embarrassment. So that was why he’d been inexplicably recommended for the Police Department—it was because My lord Egnor from the infirmary had happened to witness him cleverly using the Defense Force’s name that day.

“A sense of justice, keen observational skills, and his body… er, is also quite strong after the surgery.” Harvey said to Astaren with a chuckle, “He’s prime material for a police officer, the cream of the crop, even.”

He then turned back to Max and asked, “Are you alone, or do you have a family?”

“I have a mother. She… she does some part-time work at the Farm. She’s getting old, so she can’t get a long-term work contract…”

Harvey nodded and gestured to a municipal official standing nearby. “I am very pleased with this young officer’s performance today. A man with his particular talents and virtues shouldn’t be living with his family in the lowest-grade rental housing.”

He casually pulled over a blank sheet of paper and, with a few quick strokes of his pen, wrote out a note and signed it.

“Have the official at the Municipal Center in charge of population registration and housing allocation reassign this officer and his family to a two-story house. I’m confident our young Mr. here’s current salary can cover the rent, and besides… if I recall correctly, police officers also receive an additional housing allowance.”

Max froze for a moment, then shifted from kneeling on one knee to both, prostrating himself on the floor. His body and voice trembled slightly as he fought to hold back his emotions.

“My lord… thank you for your benevolence and generosity!”

Harvey shot Astaren a look, and he immediately took the hint and pulled Max up from the floor.

“Don’t grow complacent because of this. Maintain that precious sense of justice and your vigilance. Guard the pioneer territories well for me, and stop and apprehend any criminal who seeks to disrupt the peace and stability of our land.”

Max’s eyes were slightly red as he nodded vigorously in agreement. He then followed the municipal official out of the Lord’s study.

Just as he reached the door, he suddenly remembered something. He stopped, turned, and mustered the courage to ask the Lord a question.

“My lord, that last question on the test… what was the correct answer?”

Harvey burst out laughing. “You mean the one about the criminal holding a hostage in a burning house?” He grinned teasingly. “There’s no single correct answer. Besides, passing the exam wasn’t about whether your answer was right or wrong. I graded the papers myself. As long as you had no typos, your sentences made sense, and you showed your own way of thinking, I marked it as a pass…”

Chapter 134: Spies and Moles

After Max left, Pierce, who had just finished handling the chaotic situation at the city gate, rushed back to the Lord’s Castle.

“My lord, I’ve conducted a preliminary interrogation of these individuals with questionable identities.” Pierce handed the interrogation records to Harvey. “These eight arrested refugees are all southerners.”

Harvey took the records and glanced over them. “Three from Grizzly Keep, and the rest from Da’ers? Can you guarantee the confessions are accurate?”

“With the truth potion Mr. Egnor concocted, combined with a few of my little interrogation tricks, they held out for only ten minutes before they confessed.”

Astaren chimed in, “Could this still be some petty trick from Earl Fegan of Grizzly Keep?”

Harvey shook his head, uncertain. “Because of his previous conflict with me, Earl Fegan is under a joint investigation by the Noble Council and the Federation. He’s probably in the capital, St. Valen, right now, trying to find someone to mediate and clear his name. Besides, after I sent a sniper to intimidate him with the threat of assassination, he shouldn’t have the guts to stir up trouble again for the time being.”

He paused, then tapped his fingers on the desk. “However, just because he’s not showing his face doesn’t mean he can’t spread rumors about me in the noble circles of the capital, St. Valen. Those foolish, greedy nobles have every reason and motive to arrange for some rats to sneak into my territory and dig up the information they want.”

These spies and rats hiding among the refugees posed no real threat to Harvey. He rarely left the Lord’s Castle and the Laboratory. Even on the rare occasions he had to go out, he was always accompanied by at least a dozen loyal guards and several ruthless guard alchemical beasts.

Even if they somehow managed to get a Magical Energy Gun and tried to snipe him from a concealed position, his “innate bulletproof constitution” would ensure their efforts were in vain.

“Have the City Hall officials pay extra attention to this batch of refugees who’ve come to our territory,” Harvey said to Astaren. “Get the Police Department to coordinate with them and secretly monitor their movements. I want to know how they managed to infiltrate the group of refugees.”

“Yes, my lord,” Astaren and Pierce replied with a bow. Pierce’s expression was grim; he was clearly very dissatisfied with his Defense Force soldiers’ performance during the chaos, which was worse than that of a rookie police officer who had just joined the Police Department.

“There’s no need to be too hard on the municipal officials and soldiers who were there. They were just following procedures. They simply lack experience in handling this kind of situation…”

…

After dinner, Astaren returned to the castle. “My lord, the general situation has been investigated.”

“Most of this group of refugees did indeed flee from the barren lands. However, their original destination was Worcester County on the border of Da’ers, across the Spine of the Continent Mountains. But they were driven away by the nobles there and had to return to the Northern Realm…”

“On their way back, many tax-evading serfs and paupers who were originally southerners joined their group. The rats and spies probably infiltrated the crowd at that time.”

Astaren asked tentatively, “My lord, perhaps we should just give up on this group of refugees? We could expel them from the territory to avoid any more trouble.”

Harvey immediately shook his head in refusal. “No, no, no. No matter how many people those damn nobles have planted, and no matter how much time it takes for us to root them out, we cannot turn away refugees who have come to us of their own volition.”

He spread out a simplified map of the Northern Barren Lands that he and Pierce had been studying and drawing. “Word is now more or less spreading through many of the refugee settlements in the southern part of the barren lands that my pioneer territory accepts refugees and provides them with shelter and food.”

“If I arbitrarily drive away these refugees who have traveled so far to seek refuge, once word of their treatment gets out, no one else will be willing to come.”

Harvey currently lacked neither money nor food, nor the cement houses that could be built in half a month. What he lacked was a large labor population to provide an endless supply of cheap labor for his territory’s industrialization.

“Right, pick a few sharp individuals from the new police officers—ones with unfamiliar faces—and have them infiltrate this group’s refugee camp…”

Astaren asked, puzzled, “This is… you want us to plant our own people to go undercover among the refugees?”

Harvey smiled. “Of course. In their work of investigating crimes and arresting criminals, the Police Department can’t just rigidly follow standard procedures. Simply wearing conspicuous uniforms, waving batons, and shouting loudly is useless. When necessary, they need to learn… er, counter-surveillance and counter-infiltration…”

“You can call them… plainclothes police.”

…

The night was late, but the lights in the officer’s conference room at the Defense Force barracks were still burning brightly.

Pierce sat at the head of the table with a grim expression, staring at the row of dejected Defense Force officers below him.

“Go on, tell me about the disgraceful mess you made today while your soldiers were assigned to help City Hall process refugees at the city gate.”

A battalion commander responsible for that day’s duty stood up, his face flushed, and began to stammer out an explanation of what had happened.

“The City Hall officials were responsible for identity checks and registration, so all you could do was stand there holding your guns, gawking like a bunch of stupid donkeys?”

“The Lord once said that the Defense Force doesn’t need to risk life and limb fighting on external battlefields like the Northern Army. Your battlefield is within the territory, inside our own home!”

“I need you to be on your highest alert, to protect the territory and the Lord’s safety as you would your own families! You must not let a single damned rat sneak in and cause trouble!”

The more Pierce spoke, the more agitated he became, slamming his palm on the conference table with loud thuds.

“And now look what’s happened! A junior police officer temporarily assigned to assist you performed a hundred times better than any of you! From now on, in joint territorial defense and investigation work, you can just wait for the Police Department to walk all over you and lick their boots!”

The Defense Force officers all blushed with shame. Someone silently clenched his fists under the table without a word.

None of them were convinced. The Defense Force was already overshadowed by the experienced veterans of the Northern Army who had fought in the River Valley Skirmish. Now, a Police Department with overlapping duties had been established in the territory. It was as if they were being squeezed from both sides.

A young, hot-headed battalion commander finally couldn’t hold back any longer. He raised his hand and spoke up, “Commander, what should we do next? I heard the Police Department is planning to plant some officers among the newly arrived refugees to root out those detestable rats and spies. Can we also participate in this operation?”

Pierce let out a breath and said slowly, “I want you to increase the intensity of all daily defense and patrol duties. That is your most important job, and there is no room for slacking!”

“As for catching spies and rats, you will, of course, need to cooperate with the Police Department…” Pierce recalled the technique of a “fishing operation” that my lord Harvey had casually taught him at the castle that day.

“You and the Police Department will handle this matter from two different angles. To put it simply, one of you will play the good cop, and the other will play the bad cop…”

Chapter 135: The Forum’s Adventuring Party

After coming to an agreement with the Devil, Mr. Mind Hunter, to jointly explore the ruin projection of an ancient creature, Harvey immediately logged into his smurf account on the Forum. He used the direct message feature to find the members he felt were most suitable and extended an invitation to explore the ruins.

His first choice was, naturally, the witch hunter Mr. Son of Flame—a man who loathed evil and was brave enough to take his fights offline, even confronting the Church head-on. Based on Harvey’s judgment, he clearly leaned toward the Federation-backed group on the Forum and was likely on very good terms with individuals like “Spellshield” and “The Scorching Sovereign.”

The second person he wanted to invite was the more neutral Mr. Man in the Mirror, who had provided him with unconditional aid multiple times. In their subsequent interactions, Harvey had discovered that the man had mistaken him for an independent Alchemist and had offered a great deal of help for that reason. From this perspective, he was quite trustworthy.

A cross-planar adventure in the Magic Net was not suited for a large group. Everyone operated as a mental energy projection, and the fluctuations could easily trigger unknown and dangerous incidents.

In terms of sheer power, inviting the two Legendary Casters he knew of on the Forum, “The Scorching Sovereign” and “Shadow Knight,” would have been the safest option.

However, Harvey’s smurf account had no significant interactions with either of them. Approaching them out of the blue would easily arouse suspicion. Furthermore, the newly joined Mr. Shadow Knight was clearly in the middle of the core battlefield in the Evil Moon Mountain Range and probably couldn’t spare the time for a roam through the Magic Net.

Harvey did not place one hundred percent trust in this invitation from “Mind Hunter.” Entrusting his safety to a Devil from another dimension was, in itself, an extremely risky and unwise choice.

Therefore, he had prepared numerous contingencies to deal with the potential dangers of this expedition.

Once he entered the Plane of the Magic Net, his body in the real world would connect directly to the Forum’s server, “Unit Zero.” At the same time, through a link in the energy conduits, he could at any moment draw upon the Magic Net energy stored in the “Planet-level Energy-gathering Array” to unleash a powerful Energy beam.

He would also bring his sigil with him on this Magic Net roam. That way, if he ever encountered an unexpected situation where he couldn’t sever his mental connection and return to the real world, he could dive headfirst into his Mental Anchor and use the strange phenomenon of that bizarre beach to combat the unknown danger.

Harvey scheduled the adventure for midnight, the time when death energy was most concentrated in the Magic Net, which would also enhance his perception of the Plane of the Magic Net.

…

“Punctuality is a virtue that all intelligent life forms should possess,” the Mind Devil said, manifesting a distorted projection in the Magic Net as he lavished praise on Harvey for arriving on time.

“Two other Spellcasters are on their way to meet us now. Let’s wait a moment,” Harvey said. He had already informed the other two that this operation was initiated and led by the Forum member Mr. Mind Hunter.

Although everyone was tacitly aware of his non-human race identity, since “Administrator Turing” had vouched for him, no one would openly object. Besides, the Forum was not exclusively comprised of human Spellcasters.

When there was profit to be made, a temporary collaboration to seize benefits and distribute them reasonably was the optimal choice. Even if their two races were mortal enemies in the real world, they could wait until they returned to reality to beat each other’s brains out. One thing at a time.

Harvey and the Mind Devil waited quietly for a moment before seeing three streams of light converge in the distant, dark, and boundless plane, speeding in their direction.

They finally stopped in front of the pair, coalescing into one deep red and two silvery-white humanoid mental energy projections.

“Uh… why are there three of you? I remember only inviting two Forum members…” Harvey instantly became wary, unsure who had leaked information about the operation and taken it upon themselves to invite an extra helper without permission.

The deep red projection was the first to speak, cackling, “Don’t be surprised, everyone. Mr. Man in the Mirror has always been two people. Hahaha, I thought it was funny at first too, but it’s the truth.”

Only then did the two silvery-white projections explain in unison, “We apologize for not clarifying this on the Forum beforehand. We are twin brothers, so our sigil and projection in the Magic Net exist in a dual form…”

Harvey was taken aback, completely blindsided by this situation. He had never heard of twins whose sigils also took a dual form. After all, the case of two brothers both possessing the talent to be Spellcasters and both advancing to become high-level casters was an extraordinary exception, a one-in-ten-thousand occurrence.

The Mind Devil, however, did not seem to mind at all, adding with a gentle laugh, “Hehe, so even the sigils of twins are dual. How fascinating. It’s as if you were destined to walk the path of magic side by side, working together, never leaving each other behind.”

Mr. Mind Devil sure knows how to talk, Harvey couldn’t help but roast him internally.

Son of Flame, ever the impatient one, immediately cut in to hurry things along. “Alright, let’s discuss the adventure. Since Mr. Mind Hunter is leading this operation, we need more information.”

“Hehe, I actually stumbled upon the ruin by chance. I conducted a simple exploration of the surrounding area, but based on the faint mental energy fluctuations emanating from within, I can basically determine that it’s likely the nest projection of a suspected ancient creature in the Plane of the Magic Net…”

As soon as he said this, the other three high-level casters fell silent.

The ruin projection of an ancient creature’s nest was fundamentally different from that of an ancient Spellcaster. Ancient Spellcasters often built fortresses or Mage Towers, using special energy matrices to create a deep connection between their real-world structures and the Magic Net. This allowed them to continuously draw upon Magic Net energy to maintain their Mage Tower’s defenses or research operations.

As a result, even though these ruins were ancient, their traps and defenses followed a certain logic and could be analyzed and broken through various means, giving later adventurers a chance to enter and obtain precious inheritances.

But the nest projection of an ancient creature was completely chaotic inside. Its formation was often the result of the powerful creature dying within its nest due to old age or some other accident. The plethora of magical properties suffusing its corpse, combined with the out-of-control torrent of mental energy at the moment of death, would inadvertently punch a connecting channel between the real world and the Magic Net space, thus creating such a ruin projection.

“If it’s confirmed to be the remains of an ancient creature, the danger level increases exponentially…” the twin Man in the Mirrors mused for a moment before concluding in unison.

“That’s exactly why I’m interested. After all, a ruin this dangerous also proves that no one has likely ever set foot inside. There should be plenty of good stuff in there,” Son of Flame said, full of confidence. Harvey guessed this wasn’t his first time participating in such an exploration and his estimation of the man’s abilities rose another notch.

The Mind Devil offered a cautious suggestion, “Danger is inevitable. However, as long as we suppress the greed inherent in our nature and avoid going too deep or staying too long, I believe there won’t be any major problems.”

Harvey couldn’t help but roll his eyes internally. This Mr. Devil had previously claimed that greed was the very essence of his Devil race. Why was he now advising others not to be overly greedy? Was he trying to build a persona or something?

The man was practically desperate to advertise the words “Self-Discipline,” as if he wanted them tattooed on his forehead.

Chapter 136: The Wyrm’s Remains

Harvey and the others didn’t linger long at the meeting coordinates. They soon transformed into several streams of condensed mental energy, following the Mind Hunter who led the way toward their destination.

The distribution of energy conduits in the Magic Net space was completely random. However, if a vacuum appeared somewhere, it likely meant there was a fissure connecting to the real world or another dimension.

And the vacuum they had just arrived at was exactly that.

The five of them carefully flew to the edge of this vacuum, observing with their mental perception instead of normal sight.

Because Harvey had secretly incorporated his true self’s sigil into his projection, he could easily use his powerful Mental Anchor to scan the vacuum directly.

“Ten o’clock, straight ahead. There’s a hidden spatial fissure. That must be the entrance to the ruins, right?”

The moment Harvey spoke, the Son of Flame turned to him, his tone laced with surprise. “I didn’t expect Mr. Kel’Thuzad’s mental perception to be so powerful. You found the entrance this quickly.”

He was secretly a little puzzled. Hadn’t the Quinn brothers sworn up and down that the man was a freelance alchemist? Why were his abilities more like those of a high-level Arcane Caster?

It was common knowledge that among all spellcasters, Arcane Casters who specialized in astral magic were the most skilled at mental perception and control.

The Mind Hunter slowly nodded. “Correct. I’ve roughly located three natural fissure entrances to these ruins, but the one Mr. Kel’Thuzad found is the closest…”

The Son of Flame immediately said, “Then what are we waiting for? Everyone, prepare to enter the fissure.” He then turned to the silent Man in the Mirror brothers and urged, “Hey, you two conjoined twins, take out your bread and butter and get to work!”

The Man in the Mirror brothers let out a low chuckle. The two tightly connected projections glanced at each other, then each materialized a hemispherical metal object from their phantom forms. The objects floated out from their chests and merged into a single, smooth silver sphere.

The sphere hovered in the air for a moment before shooting out like a cannonball, disappearing into the spatial fissure at a speed imperceptible to the naked eye.

Harvey’s mind stirred. He guessed this object was like the one the Scorching Sovereign and his group had used last time—a high-level magic artifact that could be brought into the Magic Net space, likely for detecting and scouting for danger.

“How is it? What’s the situation inside?”

“Strange… I’ve never seen nest-ruins like this, but I don’t sense any danger for now. We can enter…” the Man in the Mirror brothers said in unison. Without looking back, they were the first to fly toward the fissure.

Harvey and the others followed, plunging into the hidden spatial fissure one after another.

…

What a colorful world. This was Harvey’s heartfelt sigh after entering the fissure.

But it was slightly different from the real world. All the colors seemed several times more intense, and they were bizarrely patched together in jarring, uncoordinated combinations.

The ground beneath their feet, for example, wasn’t the usual brown-gray of soil or rock, but a vast expanse of rich fluorescent green interspersed with irregular patches of bright pink.

“Damn it, at times like this, I really wish I were colorblind!” the Son of Flame couldn’t help but complain after landing and surveying the area.

The colors in this space were too overwhelming. A normal person would feel dizzy after just a short while, their vision assaulted by the intense colors.

At this, the Mind Hunter sighed softly. “I think I can guess what kind of Ancient Creature died here, leaving behind these nest-ruins…”

Harvey detected a hint of disappointment in his tone and quickly asked, “Mr. Mind Hunter, you know the origin of these ruins?”

“Yes… I’ve heard of something like this before. Look at these rich, vibrant patches of color in this space.” He waved his long, twisted arm, scooped up a large clump of fluorescent material from the ground, and shook it, letting it scatter on the wind as a cloud of fine, glowing dust.

“A Seven-Colored Wyrm… After this creature dies, the divine traits of the ancient Dragon race within its body, combined with its innate residual magical energy, gradually alter the surrounding space over time…”

Meanwhile, the two Men in the Mirror reached out simultaneously, broke off a piece of fluorescent material from a nearby rainbow-colored stone pillar, and stuffed it directly into a slit that had materialized on their phantom heads, resembling a mouth. They then produced a bizarre chewing sound in front of everyone.

Harvey was completely stunned. Hello? This is a bizarre dimensional fissure. Why are you just breaking things off and shoving them in your mouths?

“Mmm… I think Mr. Mind Hunter is right. All the matter here is saturated with tainted magical energy. It seems this Seven-Colored Wyrm died a very long time ago. Its remains are unlikely to hold anything of value for us…”

The Mind Hunter’s voice held a note of apology. “I’m sorry. I didn’t consider all the possibilities before providing the intelligence for this operation. I didn’t expect there to be nothing worth risking our lives for…”

The Son of Flame shook his head, unwilling to give up. He turned to the Men in the Mirror. “Conjoined twins, has your soul artifact located the… wyrm’s remains yet? Let’s go there and try our luck. Maybe we’ll find something.”

Harvey chose to remain silent and offered no opinion. He had never even heard of a creature called a Seven-Colored Wyrm, let alone what valuable things such an ancient dragon-like creature might leave behind after death. Staying quiet was the best way to hide his ignorance.

As they spoke, the metal sphere returned, tracing an arc along the barrier at the edge of the space. The Man in the Mirror brothers immediately extended their arms and made direct contact with the sphere.

“The area isn’t very large. The wyrm’s remains are about a half-hour flight from here. But the thing has mostly weathered away. Let’s go take a look.”

…

The group quickly passed through a dizzying, kaleidoscopic area and arrived at the location of the remains of the Seven-Colored Wyrm, a creature long thought to be extinct.

This was the first time in his life that Harvey had truly seen the real form of a so-called ancient draconic creature.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t a living Dragon, but the long-decayed wreckage of a lesser dragon species.

Still, from this skeleton, as vast as half a castle, he could still glimpse the terrifying might of the Dragon race.

The scattered, crumbling dragon bones were still covered in mottled, intense patches of color. This was especially true for the skull, which was shattered into several pieces. The rich colors bled into one another, seeming to flow slowly as if alive, making Harvey feel dizzy after just a few seconds of focused gazing.

It was truly an abstract, bizarre, and singular sight.

The Mind Hunter slowly approached the wyrm’s remains, reaching out a twisted arm to touch the ruined skeleton, causing the already decayed bone fragments to flake off. “Judging by the level of decay, its death can be traced back at least a thousand years. That was still the golden age of the Dragon race. This wyrm likely died of natural causes after growing old.”

After reaching adulthood, members of the Dragon race naturally form a Dragon Crystal within their bodies. Much like the sigils of other short-lived spellcasters, it is the core they rely on to store energy and release their innate abilities.

A Dragon Crystal matures when a Dragon is in its prime, signifying that the Dragon has officially entered the peak of its power. Both its physical strength and innate abilities are at their zenith.

Upon entering old age, however, the Dragon Crystal gradually shrinks and dissolves, just as it was in their youth. When they finally enter eternal death, the Dragon Crystal vanishes along with their life.

“Dragon Crystals… even I have only read about them in a few rare magical tomes. I’ve heard they are used in the creation of legendary magic artifacts, and in the rituals for high-level casters of certain factions to advance to the legendary rank.” The Son of Flame sighed, expressing his profound regret at not being able to see such a legendary and precious magical material with his own eyes on this expedition.

A wyrm that died of old age would naturally not have a Dragon Crystal left in its remains.

And the chances of a Dragon Crystal being left in the corpse of a Dragon that died accidentally or was slain are minuscule. After all, Dragons aren’t creatures that just anyone can deal with. And any being powerful enough to kill one would have no reason not to take the most valuable prize.

Chapter 137: An Unexpected Windfall and Dividing the Spoils

Harvey and the others used their mental energy to scan the not-so-large extradimensional wyrm nest one more time. In the end, they had to accept the result: apart from the decaying dragon skeleton before them, there was nothing to be found.

The Man in the Mirror flew a circle around the wyrm’s skeleton, speaking in unison, “Although we can’t dream of a Dragon Crystal, these decayed dragon bones are actually quite decent magical materials. Heh heh, a bloodline potion concocted with dragon bone powder is far superior to those run-of-the-mill versions made with the bone powder of mutated magical beasts…”

Harvey, who had recently been helping Egnor set up the magical herb garden, felt a stir in his heart and immediately asked politely, “Uh, Mr. Man in the Mirror, does the talent activation potion for bloodline knights actually require dragon bone powder?”

The Son of Flame let out a derisive snort. “Hah, how could those fellows get so lucky? Dragons have been extinct for hundreds of years. The bloodline knights of recent times can only use magical beast bone powder as a substitute in their formulas.”

He looked at the massive skeleton, which was like a small hill, and added with considerable regret, “It’s a pity we’re in the Plane of the Magic Net and can’t take much of the bone powder with us… unless we can find its true coordinates in the real world.”

The Man in the Mirror nodded in agreement, then looked toward the silent Mind Hunter. “This expedition was initiated by you, but we encountered no danger or unexpected events, nor did we suffer any losses. Therefore, you shall decide how the spoils are to be distributed.”

The Mind Hunter immediately had his projection perform an elegant bow and said politely, “It is precisely due to my oversight that everyone has wasted their time exploring a worthless ruin. I will not be participating in the division of the spoils.”

The Son of Flame, however, curled his lip and said bluntly, “There’s nothing to divide besides this skeleton. Everyone just take a piece. It’s not like it’s some rare treasure anyway.”

With that, he brought his palms together from a distance, aiming at the dragon skeleton. Two massive streams of mental energy slammed into the already crumbling bones, smashing the teetering pile of骸骨 flat.

Harvey asked, puzzled, “As mental energy projections, we can’t take much bone powder in a single trip, but can’t we just make a few more trips and take it all away in batches?”

The Man in the Mirror chuckled and explained, “Once the skeleton is crushed, it will decompose at a much faster rate. By the time we return in half an hour, I’m afraid there won’t even be any dust left.”

The Son of Flame laughed as well. “You lot who advanced to high-level casters at such a young age… you really know too little about this sort of ancient magical knowledge…”

After he spoke, he used his mental energy to wrap up a head-sized ball of bone powder, bid a straightforward farewell to the others, and turned to fly out of the nest-ruins.

The Man in the Mirror, ever considerate, offered a few more words of advice, teaching Harvey how to preserve and use the dragon bone powder after returning to the real world. After receiving Harvey’s heartfelt thanks, he too wrapped up a ball of bone powder and left swiftly.

“Mr. Kel’Thuzad, I must also take my leave. Please collect the bone powder as quickly as you can, before it dissipates…” The Mind Devil also gave Harvey a slightly apologetic bow and then departed.

High-level casters were always so pragmatic. The moment they realized there was no profit to be made, they fled faster than anyone.

Harvey let out a long breath. Standing alone before a pile of bone powder that would take several carriages to haul away, he suddenly couldn’t help but let out a low laugh.

While preparing the magical herb garden, Egnor had specifically mentioned to him that the cultivation of most rare magical herbs required the aid of nutrient soil made from the flesh or bone powder of magical creatures and beasts. This served as an excellent catalyst; the better the materials used, the greater the yield and potency of the magical herbs upon maturation.

“I wonder what kind of catalytic effect nutrient soil concocted with dragon bone powder will have on magical plants…”

Harvey stopped his idle speculation and marshaled his mental energy. Like a great whale inhaling water, he siphoned the entire pile of bone powder into his massive Mental Anchor, clearing the remains of the skeleton in an instant.

“Huh? What’s this in the pile of bone powder?” As all the powder was sucked away for temporary storage in his Mental Anchor, several strangely shaped, grayish-white particles suddenly appeared where the dragon skeleton had been.

Surprised, Harvey moved closer and gently picked one up with a Mage Hand, holding it before his eyes to observe.

These grayish-white particles were not perfectly round beads, but rather shaped like polyhedral dice, with a regular, prismatic structure.

“Could it be that this Seven-Colored Wyrm, which died of natural causes, also suffered from some chronic ailment like stones?”

He couldn’t be bothered with that now. He would take it all and study it after returning to the real world.

…

Back in his castle’s Laboratory, Harvey paid no mind to the late hour. He immediately called for Rainer, who was passing the time by assembling alchemical beasts, and had him fetch several pure silver metal ingots, which he then cut into thin silver sheets with a high-speed wire saw.

Mr. Man in the Mirror had specifically reminded him that wyrm bone powder needed to be stored in a container lined with pure silver sheets, otherwise the magical substances within would rapidly dissipate.

While helping Harvey line and modify a storage box, Rainer watched in astonishment as Harvey manipulated his Mental Anchor, materializing a massive pile of grayish-white powder. He stopped his work, frozen in place.

“My lord… you went to the Magic Net space and… and brought back a pile of ash?”

Without looking up from lining the box with silver sheets, Harvey urged him on, “This isn’t ordinary ash. This is the bone ash of a draconic creature after its death. It’s something that will be of great help to our magical herb cultivation. If that fellow Egnor finds out, he’ll probably be so happy he’ll jump right through the roof.”

An idea simultaneously formed in Harvey’s mind. He immediately activated his Communication device and summoned Astaren—who also had no need for sleep and was handling affairs in his study at night—to the Laboratory.

“My lord… what is… what is this?” The moment Astaren approached the pile of bone powder, he keenly sensed something was amiss.

Shocked and delighted, he asked in disbelief, “This can’t be… it can’t be dragon bone powder, can it?”

Harvey chuckled. “That’s right. This adventure in the Magic Net was not only completely free of danger, but I also hit the jackpot. Heh heh, I scraped up all the good stuff that those high-level casters couldn’t take with them.”

As an ancient wizard with a rich reserve of knowledge, Astaren naturally knew how to store such precious materials. He quickly came forward to help modify the storage boxes.

“Tomorrow, call for Egnor and have him take this bone powder to concoct nutrient soil for the magical plants. Our magical herb garden will soon have a large batch of materials ready for harvest…”

Astaren instantly froze, staring blankly at Harvey. “What? Such a precious thing, you’re going to give it to that fellow Egnor to grow those lowly herbs? This… this is a criminal waste!”

He straightened up, pointing at the pile of bone powder before them, and explained impatiently, “Do you know, in the era I lived in, this pile of bone powder, if used to concoct talent activation potions for bloodlines, would be enough to give you several hundred powerful Bloodline Warriors!”

“Even most high-level ancient wizards could barely manage to train a few dozen Bloodline Warriors to serve as their personal squires.” Astaren counted on his fingers as he reasoned with Harvey, “The main reason was the limitation of the potion’s primary ingredient. Dragons were incomparably powerful and difficult to hunt. Using ordinary magical beasts as a substitute would severely limit the potion’s effectiveness, and the resulting Bloodline Warriors would be unable to advance on their own, forever stuck at the lower stages…”

Harvey had heard the Man in the Mirror and the Son of Flame mention this casually back in the wyrm’s nest-ruins, but he didn’t really understand the difference between the two, so he hadn’t paid it much mind.

“Is there really that big of a difference between talent potions concocted with dragon bone powder and those with ordinary magical beast bone powder?”

Astaren said excitedly, “Of course! A Bloodline Warrior whose talent is activated with an ordinary potion will only awaken low-level abilities and will be unable to advance for the rest of their life. But if we use the ancient formula I know and dragon bone powder to create the potion, the resulting bloodline knights will be like those from warrior families with an inherent bloodline inheritance. They can advance from the lower ranks, and may even one day touch the Legendary rank!”

“Your loyal soldiers and officers are the most suitable candidates for becoming Bloodline Warriors!”

Chapter 138: The Bloodline Warrior Training Plan

Pierce, the supreme commander of the pioneer territories’ army, arrived at the Lord’s Castle at almost the same time as Egnor, who had rushed over upon hearing the news.

Both men had received advance notice from Rainer and Astaren respectively, and they immediately launched into a heated argument over the distribution of the dragon bone powder.

“Mr. Astaren is right. Such a precious magical ingredient must be used to cultivate powerful soldiers. Wasting it on growing magical herbs is simply a waste!”

“Hmph, what do you know? Rare magic potion ingredients are a vital aid to my lord’s magical research. Besides, Pierce, don’t you forget that the potions your soldiers drink are all concocted from magical herbs.”

Pierce, his face pale and bloodless, snorted coldly and retorted, “The pioneer territories need a strong armed force for defense, and powerful soldiers to expand outward, to plunder resources for the domain’s development. All of this must be built upon a foundation of true military superiority…”

Pierce seemed to be speaking eloquently, but in reality, he was just parroting the theories Harvey had drilled into him. It was, however, more than enough to bluff Egnor, who had little political acumen.

Harvey, who had just gotten up and walked to the study door, couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard Pierce’s grand speech.

“Alright! Stop arguing, you two.” Harvey entered the study and pulled the two, who were at loggerheads, apart. He then sat back down behind his desk and took out two documents he had prepared the previous night.

“Here. I’ve already made a plan for how to use the dragon bone powder.”

He tapped the desk and said to Egnor in a serious tone, “The plan for the magical herb garden remains unchanged, but I need you to use this portion of the powder to cultivate certain rare magical plants, such as the ingredients required for the ancient bloodline knight’s talent potion provided by Astaren… as well as the list of magic potion ingredients I’ve itemized in this plan.”

Egnor was quite satisfied to get a portion of the powder for his own garden, but when he thought about how the majority would still be used to grow ingredients for the talent potion, he shot a resentful glare at a smug-looking Pierce.

Harvey then turned to an eager Pierce. “The Bloodline Warrior training plan can’t possibly cover every soldier in the domain. You understand that.”

Seeing Pierce nod obediently, Harvey continued, “I need you to select a group of soldiers and officers, about fifty in total, who are top-notch in both loyalty and combat experience, to participate in this training plan.”

Pierce quickly asked, “My lord, are you forming them into a separate combat unit?”

“Yes. In the future, these soldiers will become an independent special operations squad, completing difficult missions for me that regular soldiers can’t handle… When you’re selecting them, try to draw them equally from the Defense Force and the Northern Army. Don’t be biased.”

Harvey was aware of the subtle conflict that had formed between the two factions after the army was divided into internal and external structures. In this matter, Pierce and the others made no effort to hide anything from him.

Harvey had initially encouraged this kind of benign internal competition, but he couldn’t let it go too far. If the conflict persisted, it could very well intensify and degenerate, turning the Defense Force and the Northern Army into armed interest groups beyond his control, which would be a huge problem.

Therefore, gradually incorporating most of the high-ranking officers and veterans from both armies into the Bloodline Warrior training plan was the most beneficial solution for Harvey.

This was because the ancient secret method and corresponding formula used to activate a Bloodline Warrior’s talent had an extremely critical component—it required the blood of a “bloodline host” to perform the final transformation ritual.

In Harvey’s mind, it was like a large-scale, group blood-binding ritual.

All warriors who consumed the bloodline potion and were transformed by the secret method would form a deep bloodline connection with the person officiating the ritual—the bloodline host.

This was also an effective method used by ancient wizards to control their powerful Bloodline Warriors.

Same blood, same origin, never to betray…

According to Astaren’s description of the ancient ritual, the warrior squires who completed the bloodline transformation would also be personally named by the wizard who became their master, taking his family name as their own.

But the ritual’s flaws and weaknesses were equally apparent. If the wizard himself died, the warriors who shared his bloodline would suffer from a complete depletion of their vital blood essence. In the best-case scenario, they would be crippled; in the worst, they would die instantly.

This was also why these Bloodline Warriors would fight to the bloody end, heedless of their own safety, whenever the wizard they served was in danger.

“The transformation ritual… what happens if it fails?” Pierce couldn’t help but ask after hearing Harvey’s description.

Harvey smiled slightly, reassuring him, “Don’t worry, it won’t endanger the lives of the soldiers you’ve carefully trained. At most, they’ll be physically weak and need some time to recuperate.”

“Besides, they can take some of Egnor’s recovery potions, so there won’t be any incurable aftereffects.”

Pierce breathed a sigh of relief and immediately said with a serious expression, “My lord, I personally request to participate in this bloodline modification plan!”

Harvey stopped writing and looked at him in surprise. “Huh? You want to undergo the bloodline transformation? Pierce, you’re already a Vampire. You’ve inherited Astaren’s bloodline; you don’t need to show me your loyalty this way.”

He then stood up, walked over to Pierce, and patted his shoulder comfortingly. “The trust and friendship between us don’t need to be proven with such a cruel bloodline binding ritual.”

Pierce mumbled for a moment before saying in a low voice, “A few days ago, Rainer mentioned that he used to have the status of a lowborn and didn’t have the right to a surname. You immediately promised that he could use your family name…”

Harvey didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Was this guy actually jealous of Rainer? But the two of them being rivals over his surname? What the hell? It felt… strange.

“You… It’s not like I’m some great noble. My family fell into decline back in my grandfather’s generation, and my surname isn’t prestigious at all.”

Harvey was the classic case of an unlucky soul who went broke the moment he transmigrated—not only were his parents dead, but his family’s fortunes had also plummeted. He had barely scraped together enough money for the tuition and expenses to study at the Spellcaster academy by selling off all his family’s land and property.

However, he understood why the people of this era placed so much importance on an empty title like a surname. After all, it represented one’s status, position, and social class. Just as mortals longed to become extraordinary Spellcasters, fame and power were always the ultimate pursuits.

Suppressing a laugh, he gave Pierce a light punch on the chest. “If you want a noble surname, it’s easy. Go talk to your mentor, Astaren. He comes from a noble family of ancient wizards. His family name can be traced back several hundred years.”

Astaren had, after all, always been grooming Pierce as his own bloodline descendant.

Chapter 139: The Bloodline Transformation Ritual (Part 1)

Using the ancient bloodline potion formula provided by Astaren, Egnor catalyzed a batch of the required alchemical plants with precious dragon bone powder. He then worked with Harvey to concoct enough for about fifty people.

Astaren recalled that when he lived in the wizard kingdom in the Northern Realm, he had once been fortunate enough to witness a Bloodline Warrior transformation ritual. However, only about thirty people participated, and the success rate was less than half.

He guessed that this was partly due to differences in the candidates’ constitutions, and partly because the younger the candidate, the higher the chance of success.

Based on the experience Astaren shared, Harvey had Pierce temporarily change the selection strategy, limiting the candidates to young soldiers and officers under the age of twenty-five to avoid wasting the precious potion ingredients.

“Commander Pierce, why was I excluded from the list? Am I… am I not as good as Dav and Wayne?” Vaughn shoved open the door to Pierce’s office and asked, his expression one of deep grievance.

Pierce sighed and explained slowly, “Selecting candidates for the bloodline transformation ritual isn’t just about ability, Vaughn. You’re twenty-seven this year, right on the cutoff line…”

The half-orc’s face flushed red and his eyes widened. He stammered in disbelief, “Just because I’m two years older, I… I’m not qualified? But I’m willing to give my life for my lord Harvey! I’m begging you, please add me to the list!”

He paused, his eyes turning slightly red, and continued, “Back when I was discriminated against and oppressed in the territory, it… it was My Lord who stood up for me and gave me justice… Everything I have today was granted by him. Please, let me… let me have the chance to obtain the glory of sharing the same bloodline as My Lord! Commander Pierce!”

Pierce shook his head helplessly. Unable to bear seeing one of his old veterans beg so humbly, he could only console him, “Alright, I’ll go ask for you… but I can’t make any promises. The transformation ritual for fifty people will be done in two batches. If there are too many failures in the first batch, My Lord might consider letting you fill a spot in the second round…”

Vaughn was overjoyed. He rushed to Pierce’s desk, wanting to grab his commander’s hands to express his gratitude, but then he suddenly remembered that his commander, being a Vampire, didn’t like physical contact and awkwardly retracted his hands.

…

After listening to Pierce’s somewhat helpless retelling, Harvey felt both amused and touched. “After undergoing the bloodline transformation, they will completely lose their mental freedom and be under their Master’s control for the rest of their lives. I thought they would be afraid to participate, but I never expected…”

Astaren chuckled and interjected, “You never expected that this group of veterans, the first to join the territory’s militia, would see this ritual as the highest honor you could bestow upon them. They nearly beat each other’s brains out in the Barracks fighting for a spot.”

Pierce also felt a shared sense of glory in the loyalty of the soldiers he had personally trained, even though my lord Harvey had explicitly rejected his own request to participate in the transformation ritual.

“Many of the officers and soldiers who were originally refugees from the barren lands have been secretly asking me if they’ll truly receive the honor of being granted a family name by you after the ritual is complete. Now that these nameless fellows have a bit of status and property, they’re starting to covet such vanities…”

Harvey put a hand to his forehead in exasperation and shot Astaren a look. It was all this guy’s fault for deliberately spreading news of the transformation ritual throughout the army, painting it as a prestigious award for his loyal followers. As a result, the soldiers and officers cared more about these superficial trifles than about gaining bloodline talents.

Of course, this was also a way to command his subordinates and win their hearts. Compared to the methods of nobles and magical politicians, it was a hundred times more straightforward.

“The bloodline potions are ready. Astaren, I’m putting you in full charge of the remaining preparations for the transformation ritual. I plan to conduct the first batch in three days…”

Pierce and Astaren bowed in unison. “Yes, My Lord!”

The most crucial step in the ancient wizards’ transformation ritual for Bloodline Warriors was, in fact, completing the bloodline bond between the Master and the warrior through a ritual with the effect of a Magical Contract. Finally, they would both consume the transformation potion, and in a ritual of sympathetic bloodline resonance, the activation of the bloodline talent would be completed in an instant.

Harvey had asked Astaren in detail if it was possible to predict what kind of talents these candidates would awaken, but the answer he received was unsatisfactory.

The awakening of a bloodline talent was a complete lottery, relying entirely on luck. It could neither be predicted in advance nor chosen.

Harvey recalled the Spellcasters on the Forum who had united for a retaliatory strike against the Church’s witch hunters. The bloodline knight who had been considered a primary target for elimination was a former knight of the Army of Judgment who possessed a magic-suppressing bloodline ability.

But this type of bloodline ability was extremely rare. Unless one came from an ancient knightly family that possessed the same bloodline, the probability of an ordinary person awakening such an ability was probably lower than Harvey winning five million from a random lottery ticket.

More common bloodline awakenings were mostly common abilities like “Frenzy,” “Titanic Strength,” or “Rapid Healing.”

Harvey looked down at the list of candidates Pierce had submitted. On the last line, past the fifty names, an additional backup candidate was specially circled in red ink—the half-orc Vaughn, age twenty-seven.

Pierce must have been unable to stand the guy’s incessant pleading and was forced to pull some strings for him.

Harvey also found it a little amusing. There was no shortage of potions, so it wouldn’t hurt to add him. It would all depend on his own luck and fortune.

…

At noon, three days later, a group of ramrod-straight young soldiers stood in neat formation in the hall on the first floor of the castle, which had been cleared out in advance.

Although the Lord and the chief advisor presiding over the ritual had not yet arrived, no one whispered or chatted amongst themselves. They all puffed out their chests and raised their heads, staring with wide eyes at the entrance to the second-floor stairwell that led to the Lord’s residence. Their fervent, expectant gazes were intense enough to melt the two alchemical beasts standing guard there on the spot.

The first to come downstairs to the hall was their commander, Pierce.

With a stern, businesslike expression, he coldly threw out a command, “All of you, take off your tunics and leather trousers. You only need to wear your shorts…”

The men immediately and efficiently began to remove their uniforms, folding them neatly by their sides as was customary in the army. Then, bare-chested, they sat down cross-legged on the floor.

Pierce glanced at the clock on the wall and added menacingly, “During the transformation ritual later, no matter what happens, you are not to make a fuss. And you’d better not piss your pants! If you do anything disgraceful, when we get back to the Barracks, hmph…”

“Yes, Commander!” the men responded in unison.

Vaughn also sat cross-legged among the troops, his fists resting on his knees trembling slightly, though he tried his best to hide his inner excitement.

The Lord must have learned of his loyalty and desire. He had been moved directly from the list of alternates for the second round to the list for the first batch.

He had been too excited to sleep for the past three days. His mind had constantly wandered even during daily training. He was torn between wanting the transformation ritual to happen immediately and worrying that he wouldn’t be good enough and the transformation would fail.

The soldiers sat in silence for about a quarter of an hour before Lord Harvey finally came down to the hall from the study on the second floor of the castle, accompanied by his advisor Astaren, the Municipal Director Rainer, and the Infirmary Director Egnor.

“My soldiers, today is the day you undergo the bloodline transformation ritual and awaken your talents…” Harvey stood before them, his words full of encouragement. “Today is also the day I form a bloodline bond with you, the day we truly become blood kin in every sense of the word…”

As soon as he said this, many of the soldiers, who had been listening quietly, began to shift slightly. Some had red-rimmed eyes, while others bit their lips to suppress their excitement.

Harvey paused, very pleased with his heartfelt speech. He continued, “From this day forward, you are not just my soldiers, my strong arms, but also my pillars of support, my blood brothers!”

Hearing this, the two dozen or so officers and soldiers sitting cross-legged in the hall immediately prostrated themselves, their foreheads pressed tightly to the floor. Following the slogan of allegiance to their Master in the ancient bloodline transformation ritual, which Astaren had secretly taught them, they roared at the top of their lungs.

“From this day forth, we serve my lord Harvey as our Master! Our blood is one! We pledge our loyalty unto death! We shall never betray him!”

Chapter 140: The Bloodline Transformation Ritual (Part 2)

Harvey stood quietly in the center of the ritual diagram drawn by Astaren himself, holding a small silver dagger.

More than twenty selected soldiers sat cross-legged around him, forming a double-circle formation.

On each of their bare chests, exceptionally complex ritual inscriptions and lines were drawn. These lines, representing the bloodline connection, all led toward and converged at the location of their hearts.

Astaren, dressed in a hastily made ancient wizard’s robe and holding another, slightly longer golden ritual dagger, went to each soldier and made a small cut on their right arm.

He then instructed them to press their palms flat against the diagram on the floor, allowing the fresh blood from their wounds to flow and smear onto it.

A faint smell of blood drifted through the air, mixed with the strange aroma of burning ritual incense specially prepared by Egnor. Pierce, with his sensitive sense of smell, couldn’t help but twitch his nose.

“All soldiers, on my command! Take the bloodline potion immediately! Do not delay!”

The soldiers simultaneously picked up the crystal vials placed beside them, tilted their heads back, and poured the potions into their mouths.

The sound of loud gulping instantly filled the hall.

“My lord, the preliminary preparations for the transformation ritual are complete,” Astaren reported, straightening up and addressing Harvey, who stood in the center of the ritual formation. “We can begin the transformation. Next, you will need to…”

Harvey nodded patiently. Following Astaren’s instructions, he gritted his teeth and made a small cut on his own palm with the silver dagger. Frowning, he squeezed out several drops of thick blood, letting them fall onto the center of the diagram.

The moment the blood fell, Astaren began to incessantly chant an incantation, his voice a deep, grating sound like scraping metal. It echoed throughout the castle hall at an exceptionally strange and discordant frequency.

Harvey listened closely for a moment and realized it was a very ancient language. Its pronunciation was somewhat similar to the language of the ancient Giants, yet it was distinctly different at certain stressed syllabic points.

It seemed the common methods for bloodline awakening today were not entirely derived from the bloodline transformation rituals of the ancient wizards. Many key parts of the ritual process appeared to have been simplified and modified.

Where did these ancient wizards learn this method… from the Dragons? The Giants? Or some other intelligent race that has long since gone extinct?

As Harvey pondered, he subconsciously followed Astaren’s prompt, using his mental energy as a conduit to activate the ritual formation.

The complex diagram on the floor instantly began to glow with a faint crimson light. The blood Harvey had dripped into the core of the formation started to flow slowly along the drawn patterns and lines.

As this small pool of blood moved along the lines of the formation, each time it passed a soldier, a thread of blood so fine it was almost invisible would split off. It would travel up the soldier’s hand, which was pressed to the ground, and race along the patterns on their body to converge at their heart.

The first soldier to absorb a thread of Harvey’s blood suddenly began to tremble slightly. He gritted his teeth, as if enduring immense pain, yet still struggled to keep his palm pressed to the ground.

A layer of fine sweat broke out on the soldier’s bare torso. The sweat seemed to evaporate instantly from a sudden rise in his body temperature, giving off a faint, scorching steam.

The young soldier snorted a puff of hot air and was finally about to groan in pain, but the moment he opened his mouth, a strange sound escaped involuntarily.

The sound that came from his mouth was identical to the incantation Astaren was chanting.

As the ritual progressed, more and more soldiers began to experience the same thing. Unnatural sounds, utterly unlike human speech, issued from all their mouths, creating a subtle synchronous resonance with Astaren’s incantation.

This unison chanting, like a sonic attack, made Harvey, standing in the center of the formation, feel dizzy. He swayed slightly, feeling as if the soldiers’ voices were echoing simultaneously inside his own mind.

“My lord, please hold on for a moment!” Astaren called out to Harvey. “Use your mental energy and try to form a connection with the voices in your head…”

The deep, magnificent chanting of more than twenty young soldiers, now completely involuntary, washed over Harvey in waves, battering him from all sides.

An unknown amount of time passed as Harvey continuously used his mental energy to distinguish between the layered sounds flooding his mind, trying his best to guide and connect with them.

Then, the chanting finally stopped.

He subconsciously turned to look at the soldier nearest to him, and that soldier, as if sensing his gaze, immediately looked up to meet his eyes.

The soldier did not speak, but his voice suddenly rang out in Harvey’s mind.

“My lord, we succeeded!”

…

Within the ritual formation, about seven or eight soldiers had slumped over, unconscious.

Egnor and Rainer, who had been waiting at the side, hurried forward to administer a previously prepared potion to the unconscious men. They then ordered the guards at the door to carry them to an adjacent room to rest.

“They didn’t make it through the ritual, but their lives are not in danger. They will just feel drained and weak for a while…” Astaren sighed, though he didn’t seem too disappointed. The success rate of this ritual had actually exceeded his original expectations.

A full eighteen soldiers and officers had successfully completed the bloodline connection ritual with Harvey.

They seemed to be in good condition. Aside from their bloodshot eyes and abnormally high body temperatures that caused their sweat to evaporate on contact, they showed no other signs of discomfort or abnormality.

Harvey looked around at the group of steaming, brawny men who had silently gathered around him.

He asked, somewhat surprised, “Is that… all? Have they already awakened their bloodline talents?”

He turned to Astaren and asked awkwardly, “Why have they all suddenly gone mute? They’re just staring at me without saying a word. It’s so strange!”

Astaren burst out laughing. “My lord, this is a side effect of the transformation ritual. They have just experienced a connection with your bloodline and mental energy, so they have temporarily lost their ability to speak. They will recover soon.”

He reached out and patted a young soldier on the shoulder, explaining patiently to Harvey, “Right now, they are like newly hatched chicks. They will instinctively seek to be close to you. This is an attraction born from sharing the same bloodline source.”

“You can try to use your mental energy to communicate with them in your mind and give them commands.”

Harvey nodded and gave it a simple try, telling the soldiers to stop crowding him. As expected, they reacted instantly, sitting down cross-legged in unison, though their gazes remained fixed on him with the same fervor.

“How long will it take for them to return to normal? This is really strange. I don’t want them following me around and watching me when I’m bathing and washing up at night!”

Rainer, who had been assisting Astaren with the ritual, couldn’t help but smile. “My lord, just a little while longer. Once they emerge from this strange state of mental and bloodline resonance, they’ll be fine…”

“So when will we know what kind of bloodline talents they’ve awakened?” Egnor asked, approaching them curiously.

“After tonight, once they have fully digested the bloodline potion, we can begin to test their talents…”

Chapter 141: Bloodline Talent Test

Vaughn sat up, pushing himself off the floor. Through the massive glass windows, the faint predawn light filtered into the castle, and he squinted at the large grandfather clock hanging on the wall.

Four in the morning. Still two hours until sunrise.

But Vaughn couldn’t fall back asleep. Yesterday, under the chief advisor’s guidance, his group of soldiers had completed the bloodline connection ceremony with their lord and consumed the magic potion to activate their talents.

Worried about their physical condition, their lord had granted them special permission to spend the night in the great hall on the castle’s first floor, so that each person’s state could be easily monitored.

Vaughn hadn’t felt anything particularly strange, except… right after the ceremony, he had felt an unconscious urge to be near his lord, an unconditional desire to obey his commands.

He tilted his head and thought for a moment, then belatedly realized what was truly different about him.

“In a hall this dim, I can actually see the hands on that clock dozens of paces away, and even clearly make out the markings on it!”

Vaughn had a feeling that his newfound superior vision was directly linked to the awakening of his bloodline talent.

He twitched his nose slightly and caught a faint, foul smell coming from his side.

“Dav! Why do you suddenly stink so much?” Vaughn kicked Dav, who was lying shirtless and spread-eagled on the soft carpet, and hissed at him in a low voice.

Dav rolled over and sat up, scratching his head in a daze. He sniffed the air as well. “Damn it, I swear I bathed before the ceremony yesterday. What’s going on!”

In the dim light, Vaughn could clearly see his brother’s bare torso was caked in a layer of black grime, and a sour, putrid smell wafted to his nose.

“Get out of here and find some water to scrub yourself clean! If my lord comes to see us after sunrise and you reek like this, I’ll twist your head off!”

Scrambling to his feet, Dav grabbed his uniform and, wearing only a pair of shorts, bolted out of the castle, stunning the two guards on night watch at the main gate.

“Who was that naked man who just ran out?”

“No idea. One of the soldiers sleeping on the first floor tonight? He stank!”

…

Harvey sat casually in a high-backed chair draped with soft furs, looking down at the dozen or so soldiers lined up neatly before him. They had just undergone the bloodline talent awakening ceremony yesterday.

Astaren cleared his throat and gave Harvey a slight nod, signaling that the test could begin.

“Next, when I call your name, step forward…”

“Northern Army, First Battalion, Second Squad, Captain Wayne!”

“Here!” Wayne puffed out his chest and strode out from the ranks to stand before Harvey.

Astaren handed him a short metal rod covered in engraved inscriptions.

“Follow my instructions. Guide the bloodline power within your body and try to channel it into this arcane rod. Take your time, there’s no rush.”

Wayne nodded with a look of partial understanding. He grasped the rod with both hands as instructed and closed his eyes to concentrate.

Soon, everyone saw the inscriptions on the rod in his hands begin to glow with a faint red light. It wasn’t blinding, but even from a distance, they could feel a scorching heat emanating from it.

Astaren glanced at it, then lowered his head and scribbled a few lines in the record book in his hand before announcing loudly, “Bloodline talent—Scorching Empowerment.”

He turned to Harvey, who was seated above, and explained, “A Bloodline Warrior who awakens this talent gains the ability to imbue any metal weapon with scorching high temperatures. It’s a powerful offensive talent…”

Harvey nodded in satisfaction and gestured to the ecstatic Wayne. “Soldier, come forward…”

Rainer promptly brought an exquisite wooden tray to Harvey’s side.

Harvey stood up, made a show of adjusting the collar of Wayne’s uniform, then took a badge carved from black crystal from the tray and pressed it into Wayne’s sweaty palm.

“Wayne Floyd, you are now a qualified Bloodline Warrior. Do not fail my hopes, or this surname…”

Greatly encouraged, Wayne immediately dropped to one knee, kissed the back of Harvey’s hand, and swore an oath of loyalty in a loud voice, mimicking a knighting ceremony.

The remaining soldiers waiting below watched with envy, their rigid, spear-like stances wavering slightly.

“Next, Northern Army, First Battalion, Fourth Squad, Captain Tommy…”

To Vaughn, the short wait felt like an eternity. When his name was finally called, it felt surreal, as if a lifetime had passed.

He followed the example of the soldiers before him, stepping forward to grasp the metal rod. Then he closed his eyes and began to channel his bloodline power.

But he couldn’t feel any special energy or quality within his body. He stood frozen in place for several minutes without any reaction.

What’s happening? Why hasn’t my bloodline power appeared? Heavens, come on! Hurry!

Vaughn was so nervous and anxious that beads of sweat popped out on his forehead, but there was still no stirring within his body, and the rod in his hand remained inert.

Just as he was starting to panic, a gentle voice suddenly echoed in his mind, guiding him softly, “Don’t be nervous. Relax your mind, stretch your body, and focus your thoughts on your heart…”

It’s… it’s my lord Harvey! My lord Harvey is in my head, encouraging and guiding me!

Vaughn felt a surge of strength return to his body, sweeping away all his tension and dejection. He could now feel his heart beating powerfully, a strange energy spreading from it through his veins to every part of his body. He carefully guided it into his arms.

The inscriptions on the metal rod finally began to glow…

“Huh? Something’s not right. His talent… it’s actually…” Astaren’s deep red eyes suddenly blazed, and he stared intently at the rod in Vaughn’s hands. Curious, Harvey also stood up to get a better look.

The rod first lit up with a dim, grayish-black light, which extinguished in an instant. Then, the entire rod, as if corroded and weathered by the elements, shattered and disintegrated, sifting through Vaughn’s fingers as a pile of fine powder.

Vaughn felt that something was wrong. He opened his eyes and stared in terror at his empty hands, standing frozen in bewilderment.

“A Dark bloodline! By the Arcane! He… he’s awakened a Dark bloodline!” Astaren was unable to control his emotions, muttering the words again and again with a tremor in his voice.

Harvey, also startled and uncertain, asked, “A Dark bloodline? Are there side effects? What are its abilities?”

“No, a Dark bloodline has no side effects. It’s just exceptionally rare…” Astaren sighed and explained, “I have only ever read descriptions of this bloodline in ancient texts.”

“Its characteristic talent is… Annihilation. The effect is what we just witnessed…”

Harvey walked forward and patted the shoulder of the terrified, sweat-drenched Vaughn. “That’s not so bad, is it?” he said with a smile. “This ability is quite similar to some of the corrosive spells used by Spellcasters. It’s also extremely potent offensively…”

Astaren gave a wry smile and added, “My lord, when he activates this power, it doesn’t distinguish between friend or foe. Anything it touches, whether flesh and blood or metal and stone, will instantly disintegrate… This means he can’t wield weapons normally and can only apply his power through physical contact.”

Harvey understood the implication in Astaren’s words, but he didn’t seem to mind. There were no worthless abilities, only worthless users of abilities.

He turned to Vaughn and instructed him kindly, “Did you hear that? You will need to master your ability even more skillfully than the others, so you don’t accidentally harm your companions and comrades. Your power is lethal, so you must learn to use it with caution.”

He turned, took a crystal badge from Rainer, and placed it in Vaughn’s tear-streaked hands.

Then he smiled. “Vaughn Floyd, do not fail my expectations. Do not bring shame to this surname. Work hard! I have high hopes for you!”

Chapter 142: Special Operations Squad

“So, according to the tests, the abilities of the eighteen soldiers who have awakened their bloodline talents are as follows…”

In the study, Astaren and Harvey discussed the various talents awakened by the soldiers in the recent bloodline transformation ritual.

Besides several common weapon-enchanting abilities like heat and ice, there were also two self-enhancement bloodline abilities, great strength and frenzy, which were very suitable for solo combat. Additionally, several soldiers awakened the auxiliary ability of rapid healing.

This ability didn’t need to be actively cast; it was in an activated state at all times. It could even allow their bodies to self-purify, expelling old hidden injuries, stagnant blood, and other sicknesses. Dav, who stank as he rushed out of the castle in the middle of the night, was a prime example.

Among this group, only two had awakened relatively rare bloodline talents.

One, a young Captain named Tommy, awakened a rare talent called “Weakness Insight.” Its effect was to instantly see an enemy’s flaws and weaknesses in battle and react swiftly, launching targeted attacks.

Harvey thought it was a talent practically tailor-made for professions like snipers and assassins.

As for the half-orc named Vaughn, who had awakened the Dark bloodline—Annihilation, Harvey had always believed it wasn’t the rare but useless talent Astaren described. He just hadn’t yet figured out how to utilize such an ability.

“This batch of soldiers and officers… should they be pulled from their original military formations to form a separate combat squad?”

Harvey pondered for a moment before shaking his head. “That’s not necessary for now. They are, after all, the backbone of the army. If we suddenly pull them out, it will create personnel gaps in their original units, which would affect the army’s morale and combat effectiveness.”

He paused, then added, “On a daily basis, let them continue to perform their duties as soldiers and officers. We just need to gather them periodically to conduct specialized training for their talents.”

Astaren nodded in agreement, then said, “Regarding the natural mineral vein we discovered in the marshlands, one with suspected signs of Demon activity… are you planning to send this squad of Bloodline Warriors as an advance party?”

I really can’t hide anything from this clever, ancient Vampire, Harvey couldn’t help but complain silently.

“Indeed, that’s exactly what I have in mind. Ordinary soldiers relying on Magical Energy Guns can defeat vile orcs through sheer firepower, but the Demons are not so easily broken.”

He rose and walked to the wall where a simple map of the Northern Realm was hanging. He pointed to a circled location on the edge of the marsh. “This place is less than a three-day march from the pioneer territories. If there truly are signs of Demon activity, the threat to us is too great…”

“Tell the City Hall to post a notice. Tell those residents who like to travel long distances to the vicinity of Greenwater Marsh to gather food and hunt to avoid that area for the time being. I don’t want any accidents to happen to them.”

Harvey tapped the marked spot on the map. “If there really are traces of Demons here, I suspect this might be a natural magic stone vein, or perhaps it contains other rare magical minerals.”

“That would mean it’s entirely worth our effort to occupy and seize it…”

…

After two rounds of the bloodline transformation ritual, a total of thirty officers and soldiers had successfully awakened their bloodline talents. To Harvey’s regret, however, no more rare bloodlines emerged.

Harvey didn’t neglect the twenty or so soldiers who had failed to awaken. He had Egnor prepare restorative potions for them to take and had Pierce deliver words of encouragement. They were also given an additional special allowance.

An ordinary person only has one chance in their life to awaken a bloodline. If they took the potion and failed in the ritual, it meant they could never again obtain the extraordinary power so desperately craved by mortals.

Tommy peeked his head down from the top bunk and whispered to Vaughn, who was concentrating on reading below, “Battalion commander, Mr. Astaren called you away alone during the Bloodline Warrior training session today. Did he give you some kind of special training?”

Vaughn was currently engaged in a fierce mental battle with an advanced vocabulary textbook and had no desire to deal with the “Quick-witted one” Tommy on the top bunk. He rolled his eyes and said nothing.

Dav also came over from the next bed with a grin, squeezing in with Vaughn. “Hehe, tell us! What kind of special training? Was it a magic restorative personally prepared by Mr. Egnor?”

Vaughn finally lost his patience and said angrily, “What magic restorative? Where did you hear that nonsense?”

Tommy was now hanging completely over the railing of the top bunk, his head almost reaching Vaughn’s bunk below. After awakening a bloodline talent, regardless of the ability gained, one’s physical flexibility, speed, and strength would be greatly enhanced, far exceeding that of an ordinary person.

With Tommy’s current core strength, he could easily hang suspended upside down in mid-air, hooked to the top bunk by just one leg.

Vaughn grabbed Tommy by the neck and pulled him straight off the top bunk. “Stop performing acrobatics for me and get down here!”

He glanced around and saw that the other talent-awakened companions in the dormitory were also staring at him with bright, expectant eyes. He could only sigh in resignation.

“Mr. Astaren believes my talent is too rare and special to be trained conventionally like the rest of you…”

He put down his book and began to recall the knowledge and principles the chief advisor had imparted to him that day.

“I can’t use my bloodline power to strengthen myself or imbue my weapons with powerful properties like you all can. Anything that ends up in my hands is fated to instantly turn to dust…”

Wayne, leaning against his bed, reached out and squeezed the half-orc’s shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t be discouraged. The day my lord tested our abilities and bestowed surnames upon us, he personally promised you that as long as you adapt and learn, your ability will eventually find a suitable use.”

Vaughn nodded and sighed, continuing, “Of course, I always remember my lord’s words. The reason I was called away alone today was actually on my lord Harvey’s orders, to test a custom-made weapon for my talent.”

“But the results weren’t good. The thing lasted less than a dozen seconds in my hands before my talent shattered it. Judging by Mr. Astaren’s tone, it seems the thing isn’t cheap to make. It’s gotten to the point where I’m afraid of the next test…”

Hearing this, the crowd roared in unison, “What? You actually have a weapon custom-made for you by my lord Harvey? Damn it!”

“Why don’t I have a weapon personally bestowed by my lord? Is it because I’m not working hard enough in training?”

“Yeah! I’m prepared to offer my heart to my lord at any time! Heaven is my witness to my loyalty!”

“Aaaah! Why him? My lord personally praised my Frenzy bloodline…”

Now, no one cared about Vaughn’s special training anymore. They all clenched their fists and crowded around his bed, instantly making the hairs on his body stand on end.

This wave of envy, jealousy, and resentment was intense…

Chapter 143: A Shaky Alliance

After successfully completing the awakening ritual for the first batch of Bloodline Warriors, Harvey finally had some time to spare. On Friday evening, he went online to attend the Magic Net Forum’s Spellcaster gathering.

When he logged into the Forum, a little later than usual, he found the atmosphere of today’s gathering was somewhat different.

[Spellshield: Everyone, I’m sure I don’t need to say much more about the recent situation… For the Radiant Church to act in such a manner, they’re treating the pact between our two factions as if it’s nothing…]

[Son of Flame: Hmph! It’s hardly surprising that those guys, their brains washed clean by the Holy Light, would pull something like this.]

Harvey’s brow furrowed. He still hadn’t figured out what exactly had happened.

But seeing these two Spellcasters, who were clearly affiliated with the Federation, speaking with such sarcasm, he surmised that the conflict between the Church and the Federation had escalated once again.

[Shadow Knight: While the allied forces of Spellcasters were out in full strength, raiding the Demons’ rear supply lines and military strongholds, the Church’s Judgment Army took the opportunity to unilaterally dispatch a large number of common followers to the magic stone Mining Area in the Evil Moon Mountain Range to begin mining the raw ore ahead of schedule… Not only that, they’re also building churches and monasteries in the Mining Area, acting as if they intend to occupy the place permanently!]

[Frost Giant: Are the Federation and the allied wizard kingdoms just going to stand by and watch? Wasn’t the agreement on how to divide the Evil Moon Mountain’s Mining Area still under negotiation? Why would they do something to provoke the Spellcasters?]

From what Harvey knew, the temporary pact formed between the Spellcasters and the Church a century ago due to the Demonic invasion contained a clear consensus and stipulation—whenever a dispute arose between the two factions over their interests, it had to be mediated by the secular nobility through a jointly established Supreme Council before a final resolution could be reached.

It was clear no resolution had been reached yet, but the Church had acted irrationally ahead of time. He didn’t know if there was some hidden reason or if they had simply lost their minds.

[Shadow Knight: The root of this incident lies in what happened last year before winter, when the Demons were withdrawing their troops. It was caused by a joint operation between the Spellcasters and the Church’s forces…]

[Spellshield: At the time, the Demons deployed their largest hybrid demonic beast corps. The Spellcasters’ combat units foresaw the danger and withdrew early, but the Army of Judgment insisted on pushing deep alone and ended up suffering heavy losses… Now, they’re accusing the Spellcasters of deserting in the face of the enemy and abandoning the pact to advance and retreat together…]

Harvey shook his head helplessly. Such a fragile, temporary alliance was fundamentally useless at restraining either side’s actions in intense, life-or-death battles.

Not to mention the two sides were centuries-old arch-enemies. If not for the relentless pressure from the Demons, it wouldn’t be surprising to see them backstabbing and sabotaging each other during a fight.

[The Scorching Sovereign: The person spearheading this incident of moving followers into the Mining Area is a key figure from the Church’s notorious “Divine Punishment Faction”—the high-ranking Chief Inquisitor Zack Hyde. The Church authorities in the Holy City currently claim they never gave him such an order, completely shirking all responsibility.]

This strategy was likely similar to how the Church had always tacitly allowed witch hunter groups to secretly attack Spellcasters. As long as there was no concrete evidence that the Church’s upper echelons had directly ordered it, the situation would ultimately devolve into a protracted war of words, and the Federation would have no choice but to swallow its losses.

After all, in the nations of the south, Spellcasters lacked the vast popular support that the Church enjoyed. Though their status was lofty, among mortals, they were still a minority group unable to win the high ground in public opinion.

[Son of Flame: Since the Church’s leadership won’t admit to it, why should the Federation keep up the pretense? Just send a few high-level casters to eliminate that Zack Hyde fellow…]

[Spellshield: It’s not that simple. Zack Hyde is protected by a corps of Holy Knights, five hundred strong. They are all mid-rank knights who have awakened their bloodline talents. The chances of a high-level caster succeeding in a solo assassination are minuscule. And if we were to dispatch a large force of Spellcasters to attack, it would be tantamount to declaring war and tearing up the pact.]

[Frost Giant: Haha, no chance for a solo assassination, and they’re afraid of giving people a reason to talk if they start a war. The Church is using common followers as cheap meat shields while openly seizing the profits from the magic stone in the Mining Area… Those hypocritical magic politicians in the Federation must be losing sleep over this…]

[Heart of the Forest: When all is said and done, it’s just a dispute over interests…]

As everyone in the gathering discussed the matter, Harvey keenly observed that the Forum members with Federation backgrounds had a clear stance, while most of the neutral members from other races were content to watch from the sidelines, refraining from any comments that might reveal their own positions.

Even within the Spellcaster community, there were different factions and stances; they were not a truly monolithic bloc.

So, what was the real purpose of The Scorching Sovereign and the others bringing this matter up so openly for discussion in the gathering? They couldn’t be airing their dirty laundry just to let everyone watch the drama unfold for fun, could they?

Before Harvey could ponder the implications, the handle representing The Scorching Sovereign on the crystal panel suddenly began to flash.

The Legendary Caster was initiating a private chat with him?

[The Scorching Sovereign: Respected Mr. Turing, my apologies for the intrusion. I was wondering what your thoughts are on the incident we’ve been discussing in the Forum today?]

Harvey’s heart skipped a beat. So this was their game—they were targeting him.

After the last joint operation by Forum members against the witch hunters, everyone had seen that the Administrator, Turing, clearly sided with the Spellcasters. Yet his identity was extremely unusual. Not only did he have no ties to the Federation or any wizard kingdom, he wasn’t even human, but was suspected to be a member of some ancient, sentient race.

Moreover, The Scorching Sovereign was well aware that during the Demon Slayer’s suspected attack on the Forum, Mr. Turing, in his capacity as Administrator, had effortlessly erased the powerful Church Demon Slayer.

If they could convince him to take action, he would be the perfect choice to deal with the high-ranking Chief Inquisitor who was openly confronting the Federation in the Evil Moon Mountain Range’s Mining Area under the guise of protecting common followers.

The problem was, Harvey didn’t have the ability to deal with the man at all!

When the Demon Slayer had tracked and ambushed him on the Magic Net, he had merely been forced to defend himself. In the end, he had barely escaped with his life thanks to a strange transformation of his Mental Anchor that even he didn’t fully understand.

Now they wanted him to kill a high-rank bloodline knight thousands of miles away. It was an absolute fantasy.

[Administrator Turing: In this matter, it seems no Forum member has suffered any harm or loss. Therefore, I’m afraid I cannot offer an opinion…]

He had to struggle to maintain his image, but this was a job Harvey didn’t dare accept. He was very much aware of his own identity and strength in the real world.

Besides, Harvey’s main concern right now was to lie low in the Northern Barren Lands, develop his own territory and influence, and seize as many resources and benefits as he could from the surrounding area.

As for the distant Demonic battlefield in the Evil Moon Mountain Range and the open and hidden struggles between colossal organizations like the Federation and the Church, he had absolutely no interest and didn’t want to get involved.

Chapter 144: A Plea for Mr. Turing’s Intervention

[The Scorching Sovereign: This is not a request I’m making to you as a member of the Forum… but rather, on behalf of the Federation and the allied wizard kingdoms, I wish to seek your help.]

The Legendary Caster’s tone was unprecedentedly humble; it seemed he was truly troubled by this problem.

[The Scorching Sovereign: Originally, any few high-level casters from the Federation could have easily resolved this dispute. Even if any one of the three Legendary Casters, myself included, were to act, there is no doubt we could pull out this nail that has been hammered into the Mining Area of the Evil Moon Mountain Range…]

Harvey understood him perfectly. It wasn’t that the Federation lacked the strength to solve the problem, but that they were firmly bound by their superficial treaty and public opinion, leaving them completely paralyzed.

The choices before them were either to act directly and restart the century-long war between the Church and the Mages, or to grit their teeth and swallow this bitter pill. Both options were unacceptable to them.

After all, although the Demons had temporarily retreated, they were still eyeing the human nations of the south covetously. They were the truly grave threat to the human race.

[The Scorching Sovereign: Therefore, on behalf of the Federation, I beseech you, Mr. Turing, to lend your aid. You will without a doubt earn the goodwill of both the Federation and the wizard kingdoms. If there is any price to be paid for this, please do not hesitate to name it. We will do our utmost to satisfy it…]

Harvey sat before the “Magic Brain” instrument, falling into a long silence. He took a moment to compose himself before replying.

[Administrator Turing: I will need some time to consider this, but I cannot promise you that I will choose to intervene in your dispute…]

[The scorching Sovereign: I understand. I shall await your reply.]

…

Harvey paced back and forth in his study at the castle, feeling exceptionally vexed.

Although he had temporarily placated The Scorching Sovereign by saying he needed to consider it, he would ultimately have to give the man an answer soon. The longer he dragged it out, the more likely he was to expose the weakness that he was either unable or not powerful enough to act.

“Are these old-timers in the Federation really that obsessed with saving face? Can’t they just fly over to the Evil Moon Mining Area and blast that damned Chief Inquisitor to bits with a ninth-circle Legendary spell?” he cursed under his breath, grinding his teeth.

But on second thought, he knew it truly wasn’t feasible. The Church also had high-ranking Priests, as well as powerful figures like the red-robed cardinals and the Pope, who were rumored to have reached the Legendary rank. Acting rashly would not only restart the conflict between the two sides but would also burden them with the infamy of being the first to tear up the treaty and destabilize the human alliance. The Federation would never dare to make such a move.

Even if Harvey had the ability to act, he would first have to devise a way to completely dissociate himself from the Federation and the wizard kingdoms. Otherwise, the Church would still seize upon it as an excuse to drag the entire spellcaster class through the mud.

Harvey recalled his successful plan during the battle against the vile orc priest in the Icefield River Valley. He had used his modified “Magic Brain” to track the mental link between the priest and the Corpse Puppet Behemoth. This allowed him to pinpoint the priest within the Magic Net and assassinate him from across the planes with an energy beam.

He wondered if there was a suitable way to apply this kind of ultra-long-range, instant-kill attack on that high-ranking Chief Inquisitor.

After all, his target was a high-ranking knight of the Army of Judgment, specially trained by the Church with an awakened bloodline talent. He was no ordinary Spellcaster. They didn’t have a sigil in the Magic Net that could be locked onto to display their coordinates.

The projection of a bloodline talent user in the Magic Net was an entity known as a “bloodline core.” Its operational principles were completely different from a spellcaster’s sigil. It merely allowed the bloodline talent user to draw pure magical energy from the Magic Net to activate their bloodline abilities.

Therefore, the coordinates of a “bloodline core” in the Magic Net were not fixed. They shifted constantly with the talent user’s movements in the real world, making them far more difficult to track and lock onto.

“However, that high-ranking Chief Inquisitor’s coordinates in the real world won’t be changing anytime soon. Unfortunately, I have no way of finding the corresponding region of the Evil Moon Mountain Range in the Magic Net… let alone accurately identifying his core from among countless others.”

As this thought crossed his mind, an idea suddenly struck him. He remembered Mr. Mind Devil, whom he had been neglecting for a long time.

Ever since the Mind Devil had taken the initiative to invite Harvey and several other Forum members on what turned out to be an almost fruitless adventure in the Magic Net, he had seemed somewhat ashamed and hadn’t frequently contacted Harvey with requests to visit the real world again.

When it came to the depth of research into the Magic Net space, aside from Harvey himself, the founder of the Forum, it was likely that Mr. Mind Devil, a native of the Magic Net, understood its mysteries best.

If he sought some advice and help from him, perhaps this plan to attack the Church’s Chief Inquisitor would have a greater chance of success.

…

“Kill an enemy in the real world from across the planes, via the Magic Net?”

The Mind Devil responded to Harvey’s summons and met with him in the Magic Net. After hearing Harvey’s brief explanation, he sounded somewhat doubtful and uncertain.

“I’ve never heard of such an attack method. Even setting aside the impossibility of finding the corresponding sigil for a target, even if you did, the other party would immediately sense the malice and threat from the Magic Net. They would either flee through a portal or retaliate with their mental energy…”

He paused, then added with a teasing laugh, “Take our first meeting, for example. If I had rashly launched an attack on you, with your mental energy, you could have easily escaped or counterattacked directly. Isn’t that a classic example?”

Harvey thought for a moment before discussing the matter with him frankly. “The main problem right now is that I can’t locate the target. After all, the Plane of the Magic Net doesn’t perfectly correspond to the real world. As for how to launch the attack, I can solve that problem completely…”

After all, even the bizarre monster from the spatial fissure couldn’t easily withstand the pure energy beam he unleashed. For ordinary Spellcasters and bloodline knights, even a glancing blow to their sigils or cores would be enough to shatter them instantly.

The Mind Devil explained patiently, “The Magic Net space doesn’t adhere to the physical laws of the real world. What you think is east might actually be west, and if you travel a great distance, you might very well end up back where you started…”

“However…” The massive single eye in the fissure on the Mind Devil’s head suddenly blinked mischievously. “Since you mentioned that location in the real world—the Evil Moon Mountain Range. I just so happen to know the situation there, and I have a rather good proposal.”

Harvey couldn’t help but ask in surprise, “You’ve been summoned to the vicinity of the Evil Moon Mountain Range before?”

“Not at all…唉, I once had a small group of rather pious followers there. Unfortunately, not a single one among them was capable of completing the summoning ritual for me. The one time they came closest, however, it did catch my attention, and I cast a portion of my gaze that way…”

“Your followers… are they still near the Evil Moon Mountain Range? Are they still persistently making sacrifices to you, praying for a response?”

The Mind Devil nodded, a hint of resignation in his voice. “Over the past fifty years, the frequency has been dropping. The Votive Power they can provide has become so faint that I can’t even be bothered to absorb it anymore…”

Harvey was overjoyed and immediately made a proposal. “If it’s to deal with the Radiant Church, which your Devil race detests the most, would you and your followers be interested in participating in my operation? Of course, you can make additional requests, and I will do my best to fulfill them.”

Chapter 145: Heretics

Spring had just begun in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, but the time for planting was still far off. The ground had yet to thaw, making it impossible to plow the fields quickly, even with draft oxen.

This season of idleness, coupled with the ongoing war against the Demon invasion that had raged for years, brought nothing but fear, hunger, and death to the local populace.

But for “Scarhead” Karl, these days were not so bad. Priests and deacons from the Luminous Theocracy had suddenly approached him, hiring him to drive his cart on a few trips to the front-line border, transporting the Church’s followers from Blackstone City to a newly opened Mining Area.

Blackstone City was a massive city located at the foot of the Evil Moon Mountain Range, on the border of the wizard kingdom of Oland. It was also a frontline fortress for humanity in the war against the Demon invasion.

This city, home to tens of thousands, was garrisoned by nearly five thousand extraordinary combatants, including battle mages from the Federation of Casters, the Mage coalition of the seven wizard kingdoms, the Radiant Church’s Army of Judgment, and war Priests.

In addition, there were nearly ten thousand ordinary knight regiments who rotated on six-month deployments, defending against the attacks of the Demon army.

The daily lives and work of the commoners and followers living in Blackstone City revolved entirely around supporting this massive, multinational allied army. Such an unconventional urban ecosystem would be unthinkable in any other city in the south, but in Blackstone City, it was commonplace.

Just as dawn broke, “Scarhead” Karl emerged from the backyard of his dilapidated plank house. He hitched his two skinny old horses to a covered wagon protected only by an oilcloth and set off slowly toward the city gate.

It was a good gig. One trip, paid per head, earned him about twenty silver coins. Besides, the damned Demons had eased their attacks recently and weren’t harassing the border as often. The route passed through several Army of Judgment camps, so there was no need to worry about his safety.

Today was his last run, but it was a little different from the others. A small group of the Church’s followers from outside Blackstone City had approached him directly and paid an extra fee to have him take them to the Mining Area.

Earning a double commission was an unexpected windfall.

“Old fellow, you shouldn’t sit up here on the bench with me. Go on into the carriage. It’s not warm, with spring just starting. You’ll get frostbite, and then you’ll have to beg the Priests for help when we reach the Mining Area.”

The gray-haired old man, who insisted on sitting with Karl on the driver’s bench, shook his head, refusing his kind offer. He took out a small tin flask from his coat and took a swig. “This is nothing. It’s much colder in winter. I’m used to it.”

It seemed that while the man wasn’t a Blackstone City native, he was certainly a local who had lived for a long time in the farms and villages around the Evil Moon Mountain Range.

Karl nodded, changing the subject to pass the time. “Why are you so set on taking your family to the Mining Area? I hear there are still scattered Demon stragglers who haven’t pulled back, and life in the mountains there is much harder than in Blackstone City.”

The old man glanced at Karl, asking doubtfully, “Oh? You’ve been to the Mining Area?”

“Heh, I’ve made this run four times already. I have to stay overnight at the Mining Area each time and don’t head back to the city until the next day.”

The words had barely left his mouth when a scar-faced man poked his head out of the carriage. “Then are you familiar with the parish under construction in the Mining Area?” he asked in a low voice. “How many followers has the Church moved over? Are there many Priests and clerics there?”

The old man’s expression tightened slightly, and he shot a glare at the scar-faced man.

“Scarhead” Karl, however, paid it no mind. He smiled and said, “Of course. The church, monastery, and clergy house in the Mining Area are under construction day and night. The lords from the Church seem to be in a great hurry; many of the followers have fallen ill from exhaustion…”

He asked curiously, “You’re all going to help build the parish too, right? The old gentleman looks hale and hearty, but I doubt even he could endure that kind of labor.”

The corners of the old man’s mouth lifted into a peculiar smile. “By the Light, even if I lack the strength to contribute to the parish’s construction, as long as I am sufficiently humble and pious, the lord Priests will always find a use for me.”

Karl himself was not a devout believer, so he could only sigh at the man’s words. “I suppose so. You followers… always so pious…”

The magic stone Mining Area, situated in a pass within a canyon of the Evil Moon Mountain Range, was heavily fortified by two thousand soldiers of the Church’s Judgment Army. They guarded the various main entrances to the valley, sealing it off as tight as a drum.

The valley itself wasn’t particularly large. On the side closest to the mountain, several tunnels large enough for minecarts and workers had been excavated, but there were no miners to be seen. Instead, a squad from the Army of Judgment was stationed there.

On a gentle slope toward the mouth of the valley, the scene was one of fervent activity. Countless followers of the Church, dressed in simple, ragged clothes, were either herding oxen and horses or using their bare hands to drag quarried stone blocks toward a church whose foundations had just been laid on the hillside. Their progress was slow and arduous.

They had only recently been escorted here by the Church’s Judgment Army and had not even had time to build temporary shelters for themselves, relying only on the oilcloth tents provided by the Church as crude cover for the night.

Scattered on the high ground stood several Priests and clerics in pure white robes, holding holy books and staves. They loudly proclaimed the mercy and truth of their Lord to the laboring followers. Each time a passage of scripture was chanted, some of the faithful would spontaneously stop their work, prostrate themselves on the muddy ground, and respond with fervent prayer.

High-ranking Chief Inquisitor Zack Hyde stood atop a makeshift wooden tower, his expression grim as he watched the teeming crowd below.

“Priest Raphael, how much longer will it take to complete the main parish buildings?”

The white-robed Priest bowed slightly and answered in a low voice, “My lord, among the followers who have been relocated to the Mining Area, fewer than five hundred are fit for construction work. The majority are old and frail. It will take at least two months…”

“What? Two months? I cannot wait that long! The Holy City has already stretched its limits to give tacit approval to my unauthorized actions. They are withstanding pressure from both the Federation and the wizard kingdoms. The time they can buy me is short.”

What’s more, Zack Hyde had pulled a full half of the Army of Judgment from the Church’s forces in Blackstone City, including nearly two-thirds of the bloodline knights. This effectively cut the Church’s military strength within Blackstone City in half.

Should tensions escalate to the point of unavoidable conflict, the Church’s forces in Blackstone City would be dangerously depleted, and the Federation might even seize control of the city.

“If we don’t have enough followers, then send more of the Army of Judgment and Priests to gather people from farther away! Hire more cart drivers and caravans, and get them moved over here as soon as possible!”

Once the cathedral—representing the Church’s authority and ownership of the parish—and the Army of Judgment’s sanctum are built, and once enough commoner followers are gathered to settle here, the Church can publicly justify its actions. They can claim it was all to protect the local followers. At that point, the Federation will have no way to intervene and claim a share of the magic stone vein’s profits.

They wouldn’t dare to start an open armed conflict with the Army of Judgment in the Mining Area—not unless they were willing to ignore the treaty, risk Spellcasters harming civilians, and incite the outrage of the common people and the secular nobility of the various kingdoms.

“I hear that among the followers who arrived today, there are some who have received a basic noble’s education? People who can read and write?”

The Priest pondered for a moment before answering, “Yes. I remember one in particular, a small farm owner from a nearby city who moved his entire family. They claim their family has been devout for generations and that all of them, men and women, young and old, are willing to come here to dedicate themselves to our Lord…”

Zack Hyde smiled, pleased. “My Lord’s light shines upon them always. It is, of course, time for them to make their offerings to my Lord. Select some of these educated individuals—those who need not participate in the construction—and have them assist the Priests and clerics with transcribing scriptures and sewing ceremonial banners.”

“As you command, My lord.”

Chapter 146: The Thousand-Li Instant Kill

The Mining Area was not peaceful after nightfall. By the faint light of candles and torches, many believers still sat in the open, chipping away at quarried stones with iron picks and stone hammers, shaping the irregular boulders into rectangular blocks for construction.

Knights from the Army of Judgment, led by their knight-commanders, patrolled key locations throughout the mining area. Only the cathedral construction site on the gentle slope enjoyed a moment of tranquility, as no one would linger there at night.

“Halt! Who are you? Why are you here?” On the muddy construction road leading to the cathedral, two soldiers from the Army of Judgment who had just changed shifts sternly stopped a group of believers walking up the path.

The believers seemed to be carrying something on their backs, and each held a worn burlap sack.

“My lord, we are the followers responsible for inscribing the prayers and prayer flags…” A gray-haired old man, the leader of the group, stepped forward and bowed humbly to the patrolling soldiers.

The soldiers exchanged a glance, confused. “Inscribing prayers? Why aren’t you resting in your tents? What are you doing at the cathedral construction site in the middle of the night?”

The old man quickly unslung the pack from his back, revealing the assorted ritual objects and offerings inside. “The construction schedule is tight. The lord Priest instructed us to inscribe the prayers from the holy book onto the foundation pillars ahead of time. This will free us up during the day to assist the clerics with other tasks…”

The soldiers from the Army of Judgment nodded, rather moved. “There’s no need to work through the night… Oh, well. Your devotion is admirable. Take some more torches and candles with you. May the Light shine upon such pious people.”

The old man bowed again and again, watching the two soldiers walk slowly back toward the camp. In the torchlight, his dark eyes held a strange, unsettling expression.

The group shouldered their packs once more and walked in unusual silence toward the cathedral site on the hillside.

…

“Father, will this really attract the gaze of that… that being?” the scar-faced middle-aged man asked, his voice tinged with anxiety. “We’ve tried countless methods in the past, but none seemed to please Him, let alone summon Him into the real world…”

The old man shot his son a sideways glance and whispered resolutely, “What do you know? This time, I received a true revelation from Him in a dream prayer. Why else do you think we would take such a great risk to come here?”

He scanned the others around them and ordered decisively, “Time is short, and we could be discovered at any moment. Begin preparations for the ritual at once.”

“You three, handle the sacrificial offerings. You, and you—the two of you will assist me in drawing the ritual circle. The rest of you, split into two groups. Keep watch outside and report back to us immediately if anything happens.”

Without further delay, the group opened their packs and silently began their tasks.

One by one, they took out exceptionally profane ritual items—a shriveled fetus corpse coated in beeswax; strange insects, preserved in a viscous fluid, still faintly twitching; clusters of terrifying, bright red tumors that gave off no smell of blood…

The old man, holding a quill made from a black swan’s feather in one hand and a delicate silver bowl in the other, continuously dipped the quill into the blackish-red liquid it contained. On the floor of the still-unroofed cathedral hall, he rapidly drew a multitude of strange and profane symbols and inscriptions.

He had performed this ritual countless times; he could do it blindfolded without a single mistake. It was just that in the past, no matter how he tried, he had never succeeded.

As the ritual preparations were completed, the calm in the old man’s eyes gradually gave way to fanaticism. He called over the other family members still in the hall, took the sacrificial offerings they handed him, and carefully placed them one by one in their designated positions within the ritual circle. At the same time, he began to chant the all-too-familiar ritual prayer.

“Great being who wanders in the endless void.”

“Master of the shadows, silent Devil of the heart, ruler of mortal desires.”

“I beg for a response, I beg for your gaze.”

“I beg for a response, I beg for your gaze.”

“I beg for a response, I beg for your gaze…”

The old man chanted relentlessly, his body prostrated on the ground, his forehead pressed tightly against the floor. The others mimicked his actions, murmuring the ritual’s incantation along with him.

In the still air, faint, invisible cyclones seemed to materialize, swirling around the ritual circle.

From the distant depths of darkness came a heavy sigh, layered as if from countless voices in unison.

…

The high-ranking Chief Inquisitor Zack Hyde had just completed his routine nightly prayers. After an assistant Priest helped him wash his face and hands with clean, warm water, he changed into a light, white priest’s robe, ready for bed.

His dwelling was a standard military tent, identical to those of the Army of Judgment, pitched inconspicuously in their camp at the center of the valley.

Other than his attendant assistant Priest and the trusted knights closest to him, no one knew which of the several hundred tents he would be resting in each night.

This was an effective strategy he employed to avoid nighttime ambushes by high-level casters. After all, though the bloodline knights were numerous, they couldn’t contend with high-level casters who could ride the wind. Their superior mobility made it easy for casters to catch them off guard.

During the day, this was not a concern. The Army of Judgment’s magic-breaking heavy crossbows were not to be trifled with; for the past few centuries, they had made those evil wizards who buzzed around in the sky like flies suffer greatly.

Not long after lying down, he suddenly felt a surge of agitation and found himself unable to fall asleep through meditation.

The incredibly powerful heart he’d gained after his bloodline awakening hammered a few times in his chest, sending a sudden, inexplicable jolt of terror through him. A fine layer of cold sweat broke out on his back.

Something’s wrong! Something unusual is happening!

The high-ranking Chief Inquisitor sat up without hesitation. With no time to don his armor, he pulled his radiant longsword from its rack, threw open the tent flap, and rushed outside.

The white-robed Priest, Raphael, came running from a distance, shouting a warning as he approached.

“Lord Zack! It’s terrible! The cathedral… something’s happening at the cathedral!”

Zack Hyde’s eyes narrowed. He inverted his sword, using the pommel to stop the Priest, who in his panic had nearly crashed into him, and demanded sharply, “Calm down! What happened? What’s wrong with the cathedral?”

The Priest’s face was a mask of horror, still caught in the grip of disbelief and fear. He repeated in a mumble, “Heretics! Heretics have mixed in with the followers! They’re… at the cathedral… performing… a profane ritual to summon a Devil!”

What a desecration! Absolutely unforgivable!

In his youth, Zack Hyde had followed the Inquisitorial Knights across the nations of the south for several years, fighting in countless battles to eradicate heretical faiths and Devil worshipers. He knew exactly what these degenerates were plotting.

They wanted to use sacrificial and summoning rituals to pollute and profane this nascent new parish, to spread fear and corrupting ideas among the followers and shake their pious faith.

“Gather the bloodline knights immediately! To the cathedral with me,” Zack Hyde roared, grinding his teeth. “I’ll make them pay a heavy price! When the sun rises tomorrow, I’ll watch them weep and wail on the pyres with my own eyes!”

The high-ranking Chief Inquisitor led several dozen mid-rank bloodline knights to the cathedral construction site at great speed. Outside the main hall, he found several ordinary soldiers from the Army of Judgment locked in fierce combat with a number of people dressed as believers.

He snorted coldly. Wielding his sword in one hand, he became a streak of incandescent white light, crashing into the crowd. In the blink of an eye, the Heretics who had been putting up a desperate resistance were on the ground, clutching their severed limbs and writhing in agony.

“Don’t kill them just yet. Use divine arts to slow their injuries. After I’m done with the heretic leader inside, they will all face my Lord’s divine punishment together!”

Without another glance, he charged into the cathedral.

The summoning ritual had indeed caused some profane and abnormal energy fluctuations, but thankfully, he had arrived in time. The worst had not come to pass.

No Devil had been drawn by the ritual to answer the call.

The group of Heretics, led by the gray-haired old man, were now huddled in a corner of the hall, clutching crude weapons and glaring at Zack Hyde, who was the first to burst in, with eyes full of extreme hatred.

“You filthy rats from the sewers!” the high-ranking Chief Inquisitor sneered, gripping his longsword and slowly approaching them.

The old man spat a mouthful of bloody saliva onto the ground and taunted with fanatical fervor, “You damned holy rollers! One day, you’ll pay for your evil deeds!”

Zack Hyde threw his head back and laughed. “Hahaha! I’d like to see who will be the first to pay the pri—”

His words caught in his throat. A rattling sound, like he was choking on phlegm, came from his throat. The white-robed Priest who had followed him in rushed forward to support him, but was shoved away by a flailing hand.

“Hrrk—g-gh… urgh….” Zack Hyde suddenly vomited a great mouthful of blackish-red pus and blood, mixed with fleshy matter that looked like fragments of internal organs.

He stumbled back two steps, then suddenly heard several strange noises from behind him.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

What had just exploded behind him?

Zack Hyde strained his bulging, vein-covered neck to slowly look back.

To his horror, he saw that the heads of several bloodline-awakened knights, including the white-robed Priest Raphael, had suddenly and bizarrely exploded, leaving only gushing neck stumps above bodies that were slowly sinking to their knees.

“Why… is this happening? The Devil… you… you succeeded?”

The high-ranking Chief Inquisitor turned his head back again and looked at the equally terrified Heretics, forcing out the words.

Before they could answer, a strange flush suddenly crept over his face, causing him to fall to his knees in agony, leaning on his sword for support.

With a wet squelch, Zack Hyde’s eyes were squeezed directly from their sockets, landing on the ground with a soft plop.

Then, with a terrifying cracking sound, his head slowly split open. Blood mixed with crimson brain matter streamed down his neck, staining his pristine white robes an endless, deep red…

Chapter 147: Soul Separation

Harvey felt a throbbing pain in his head as Rainer helped him off the laboratory table, his body drenched in a cold sweat. He had just completed a surprise attack in the Magic Net against the Church’s high-ranking Chief Inquisitor, Zack Hyde, alongside Mr. Mind Devil.

To ensure the success of this cross-planar assassination, after Mr. Mind Devil used a believer’s summoning ritual to lock onto the coordinates pointing to the Evil Moon Mountain Range in the Magic Net, they had immediately directed their mental projections to that region. There, they saw dozens of bloodline cores, each representing a knight from the Church’s Judgment Army, rapidly converging.

Neither Harvey nor Mr. Mind Devil could tell exactly which of these cores belonged to Chief Inquisitor Zack Hyde. The best solution was to let none of them escape.

So, Harvey had to push his mental energy to its absolute limit, guiding the Planet-level Energy-gathering Array connected to him in the real world. He focused all the pure magical energy stored within it into energy beams, shattering the cores one by one.

He and Mr. Mind Devil weren’t worried that their targets would sense the danger and malevolence from the Magic Net space through their bloodline cores. The energy beams could travel over ten thousand meters; they were hidden at an extreme distance, with one of them locking onto the targets while the other unleashed the attacks.

“I hope that among the dozens of cores I shattered, the Divine Punishment Faction’s Zack Hyde was really one of them…” Utterly exhausted in mind and body, Harvey politely bid farewell to the ever-helpful Mr. Mind Devil and immediately left the Magic Net space to return to the real world.

Rainer helped him to a reclining chair in the Laboratory’s rest area. Egnor, as usual, handed him a healing potion to restore his mental energy and nourish his magical power. Harvey downed it and immediately shut his eyes, using meditation to begin guiding the recovery of his mental energy.

By dawn tomorrow at the latest, he should be able to see the latest firsthand news of this terrorist attack on the Spellcaster Forum. Then he would be able to confirm whether his operation was truly a success.

As Harvey tried to focus his thoughts and guide his mental recovery, he unknowingly drifted into a drowsy dream.

After the familiar sensation of the world spinning faded, he found himself back on the mysterious beach within his Mental Anchor.

Glancing around, he saw the three transparent orbs he had accidentally discovered on the beach last time, each containing a miniature infant embryo. They were now resting quietly on a small mound Harvey had deliberately built out of sand.

Harvey had already planned to take some time to study them, so naturally, he needed to place them somewhere safe to prevent the tide from washing them back into the sea, where they would be difficult to find again.

Harvey couldn’t help but wonder if it was because he had devoured the three Demon Slayers who had invaded his Mental Anchor on this beach that this space had undergone some kind of unknowable transformation, ultimately gestating these three bizarre orbs.

He had previously killed a vile orc undead priest in the Icefield River Valley using sigil targeting, and today he had destroyed dozens of bloodline cores from the Church’s Judgment Army with energy beams, but nothing like this had ever happened.

It seemed this strange phenomenon only occurred when he annihilated an enemy within his Mental Anchor using that peculiar devouring ability.

Spells were unusable in this space, so Harvey couldn’t use Mage Hand to pick up an orb for inspection. Gritting his teeth, he took the risk of picking one up with his bare hands to observe it closely.

The orb was surprisingly soft to the touch, as if it would shatter with the slightest squeeze. Harvey felt it was like the water-filled balloons he loved to play with in his childhood in his previous life, making him want to squeeze and play with it in his hand.

The soft orb subtly changed shape in Harvey’s hand, and the miniature infant embryo inside drifted slowly in the liquid. At first, Harvey found the object a bit cool to the touch, but as the warmth from his palm seeped into it, it seemed to grow warmer and warmer, until it eventually felt somewhat hot.

Startled, he immediately placed the orb back on the sand, only to watch in astonishment as it began to expand continuously. Finally, the shell could no longer contain the pressure and burst open with a soft pop.

The tiny infant embryo, slick with the unknown liquid, rolled out of the shell and began to grow almost instantly, as if it had experienced the entire developmental journey from a newborn infant to a child, then to an adolescent and a young adult, all in a matter of a few seconds.

Harvey stumbled back several steps in terror, his eyes wide and his mouth agape, unable to make a sound.

A pale, completely hairless and naked human was lying face down on the sand less than three meters in front of him. Just seconds ago, it had been an embryo no bigger than a fist.

Harvey’s heart pounded heavily with fear. The strange person’s body trembled lightly a few times, as if in sync with his heartbeat. Then, with stiff movements, it climbed up from the sand and slowly turned its head to face Harvey.

Wh-what was going on?

He… how could he… how could he look exactly like me!

Harvey nearly turned and fled on the spot, but curiosity and a strange sense of familiarity held his mind captive, rooting him to the spot.

This strange, pale human… no, this newborn human who looked identical to Harvey, just stood there silently, its lifeless eyes locked in a long, vacant stare with his.

An unknown amount of time passed. Harvey suddenly felt a wave of awkwardness that briefly overshadowed his fear and curiosity. It was because the person had a face identical to his own but was standing there completely and utterly naked.

It felt like looking in a mirror after a shower, stark naked and streaking. How damn embarrassing!

After waiting a little longer and seeing that the pale clone remained motionless with its vacant eyes, Harvey finally mustered the courage to approach it.

He tentatively reached out, his five fingers spreading to touch the other’s chest. He wanted to feel if this person was truly a living human, if its heart was beating normally, if its skin had a normal temperature.

The instant his palm touched the skin of the clone’s chest…

Harvey felt as though his mental energy, his thoughts, and his very soul were instantly split in two. The illusory sensation of being torn apart and disintegrated sent a cold, numbing sensation through his entire body. His vision went black, and he nearly collapsed.

When he took a few seconds to adjust and opened his eyes to regain his sight, he discovered that the person standing opposite him was suddenly dressed differently.

The face was still his, but the lower body was now clad in a pair of comical and ill-fitting baggy swimming trunks, emblazoned with a strange picture of SpongeBob from the cartoon.

But the other’s eyes were no longer vacant and lifeless. They were now darting back and forth, observing him intently.

Wait! He didn’t just suddenly put on pants!

Harvey abruptly noticed something was wrong. He quickly looked down at his own body and found that he was the one who was now stark naked, his body pale and bare.

My soul and consciousness have transferred into this bizarre clone?

No way. Terrified, he quickly raised his hand and moved it toward his true self, wanting to use the same method to return to his original body.

His true self, now in the swim trunks, raised its hand almost in perfect sync, meeting Harvey’s palm to palm.

“Huh? What’s happening?” Harvey couldn’t help but mutter to himself.

He felt his perspective instantly switch back to his true self in the swim trunks, and he spoke the exact same words at almost the same time.

“Huh? What’s happening?”

Harvey instantly understood the problem. He realized he could simultaneously control both his true self and the clone, making them perform the same actions and speak the same words.

Moreover, because they were standing at different angles, he was receiving two different visual perspectives at almost the same time.

“Is… is this the legendary… state of soul separation?”

He cautiously began to familiarize himself with controlling both bodies at once, gradually adapting to multitasking by making them perform different actions—one moment high-fiving, the next squatting.

“Does this count as having a split personality now?” Harvey-in-trunks muttered with a frown.

“If this keeps up, the condition will probably get worse. After all, it’s two bodies and one soul,” the clone Harvey replied with a bitter smile, covering his private parts with his hands.

It seemed they both thought of something at the same time. They turned their heads in near unison to look at the two remaining bizarre orbs on the sand mound.

They cursed in one voice, “Damn it, don’t tell me those other two eggs have two more of me inside?”

Chapter 148: A Lion’s Demand

Legendary Caster Kemer Salas snapped out of his meditation, looking up at the tranquil night sky outside his window.

A Spell Messenger flapped its wings and flew in through the window. A figure that had appeared out of thin air by the windowpane immediately raised a hand to catch it, pinching the letter from its grasp just before the messenger dissolved into ash.

“A secret report from Blackstone City in the Evil Moon Mountain Range. They’ve applied a magic seal to the letter, so it seems to be extremely urgent news…” the Salas by the window said with a smile to the Salas sitting in the high-backed chair.

The Salas leaning back leisurely in the chair curled his lip into a smile, taking the secret magic-sealed letter from his other self and opening it directly.

After reading only a few lines, his expression immediately changed, his eyes widening slightly.

“That high-ranking Chief Inquisitor in the Evil Moon Mining Area was suddenly attacked last night by a high-ranking demon summoned by a group of Heretics. He, along with twenty-three Inquisitorial Knights who had awakened their bloodline talents, and one mid-rank Priest, were all killed in action…”

The Legendary Caster couldn’t help but sigh. He pinched the yellowed paper in his hand, closed his eyes, and sank into deep thought.

Just three days ago, he had sent a request to Administrator Mr. Turing through the Spellcaster Forum, imploring him to take action—in a way that would separate him from his identity as a Federation Spellcaster—to secretly eliminate the high-ranking Chief Inquisitor Zack Hyde.

He had indicated that He needed to consider it. Judging by His tone and attitude, it seemed He had no desire to get involved in the conflict between human Spellcasters and the Church. After all, He was not one of them, and this group of Federation-backed Forum members had no idea what price could be paid to move Him.

Unexpectedly, in just three short days, the high-ranking Chief Inquisitor, who the Federation currently considered a thorn in their side, had been completely annihilated along with his numerous powerful Inquisitorial Knights. What’s more, the attack was carried out by summoning a demon, which perfectly cleared the Federation’s Spellcasters of any suspicion.

“Can we be one hundred percent certain that it was the mysterious Mr. Turing who took care of the problem for us?”

“The battle report clearly states that the target died at the hands of a high-ranking demon summoned by heretics. That Mr. Turing…”

“Could his true identity be an ancient demon from another dimension? Or an extremely rare high-ranking demon?”

Both Salases shook their heads in self-denial. High-ranking demons were indeed rare and powerful, possessing a variety of strange and innate abilities. But the Radiant Church had been fighting them in the real world for centuries and had long since figured out the mysterious backgrounds of these otherworldly visitors. They had even created powerful divine arts specifically to counter demons.

As a high-ranking Chief Inquisitor of the Radiant Church, leading dozens of mid-rank bloodline knights and a Priest, it was impossible for Zack Hyde to have been wiped out by a single high-ranking demon without putting up a fight. The Sword of Radiance in his hand, a personal gift from the current Pope, had been stained with the blood of countless demons.

“Instead of making wild guesses here, it’s better to go directly to the Forum and seek the correct answer from Mr. Turing.”

The two Salases nodded in unison. In an instant, their figures merged into one and teleported to the desk, where he sat down.

The moment he entered his Forum handle, he was pulled directly into a private chat with Administrator Turing, which made the Legendary Caster’s eyes narrow.

[Administrator Turing: Mr. Scorching Sovereign, my apologies for not informing you sooner. Regarding the matter you asked me to assist with a few days ago, I already resolved it for you last night…]

So it was Him… It was really Him. I thought He would consider it for a long time and then indifferently refuse. I never expected Him to act so casually, without even bothering to notify me beforehand.

Salas sighed softly, then felt a little troubled.

He had pleaded for help, and now it was time for them to pay the price. He wondered what kind of demands this mysterious being would make…

[The Scorching Sovereign: Mr. Turing, thank you so much for your help. On behalf of the Federation and the Wizard’s Alliance, I extend to you our highest respects. It is unimaginable that this matter was resolved so easily…]

[The Scorching Sovereign: Then it is time for me to fulfill the promise I made to you… I wonder, what price or remuneration must we pay to repay you for your assistance?]

A faint smile touched Harvey’s lips.

He had been waiting for the other party to offer to fulfill his promise. He had long since decided to make an exorbitant demand and to carve a fat slice of meat from the Federation’s magic politicians and overly cautious high-level casters.

Time to lay the groundwork with this Legendary Caster for the ‘shadow-cloned smurf account’ technique I’ll be using on the Forum…

[Administrator Turing: Heh, you are a Forum member who honors his promises and recognizes the principle of equivalent exchange. I appreciate that very much, which is the main reason I was willing to help you solve this problem. However, this is a one-time-only affair. I have never been very interested in intervening in the conflicts of the real world…]

Kemer Salas’s heart tensed. He understood the implied warning in the other’s words: do not make frequent requests to Him, especially for things He has no interest in.

[Administrator Turing: Before I ask for my payment, I have a question for you—Mr. Scorching Sovereign, do you believe that this Spellcaster Forum, which exists in the Plane of the Magic Net, was created and is managed and operated solely by me?]

The Legendary Caster frowned, carefully considering why he was suddenly being asked such a question, but he did not treat it lightly.

[The Scorching Sovereign: Please forgive my ignorance. Most members, myself included, seem to be in unanimous agreement that this wondrous Forum, which surpasses the magical technology of the real world, was created and is run by you alone. I wonder if this answer is correct…]

[Administrator Turing: The answer is incorrect, but I understand the certain deviation in your perception. After all, your understanding of the Magic Net and myself is far too limited. But no matter, I can tell you the correct answer. You may also inform the other members. This is a gesture of sincere goodwill from me for everyone’s continued support.]

[Administrator Turing: The Forum does not belong to me alone but was jointly created by a group of “people” like us. Within this Spellcaster Forum, I am merely a representative who appears before you to communicate directly with the members…]

Kemer Salas sharply caught that the word the other party used for “people” was an archaic term with descriptive semantic meaning. This meant that Mr. Turing did not, in fact, consider himself truly human, once again confirming his suspicions about this being’s identity.

Moreover, the other party had revealed that the Forum was jointly created by a group of “them,” and He was merely a representative who appeared before them to communicate with the Spellcasters of the real world.

“They…”

This, too, was an expression using an archaic term. Did the group of “people” who created the Spellcaster Forum belong to the same ancient and mysterious intelligent race?

Before he could ponder it further, another message arrived.

[Administrator Turing: Besides myself, I will introduce another of my companions to you alone—Observer Mr. Neumann. And the price and remuneration I ask of you is precisely this: I hope you will use your true identity to recommend Mr. Neumann, under an alias, directly to the Supreme Council of the Federation, to the three chief Legendary Casters, including yourself…]

Kemer Salas stared at the text continuously appearing on the crystal screen, completely stunned.

What did this mean? He wanted him, as one of the Federation’s chiefs, to recommend another of His companions—Observer Mr. Neumann—to the Supreme Council?

[The Scorching Sovereign: My apologies, Mr. Turing, I don’t quite understand. Why would this… Observer Mr. Neumann… be interested in the Supreme Council of the Federation?]

Administrator Turing’s next casual words completely floored the Legendary Caster, leaving him speechless for a long time.

[Administrator Turing: Oh, it’s very simple. This companion of mine is a fanatical scholar passionate about researching the path of magic. He wishes to join the Federation anonymously and obtain a special dispensation, unanimously authorized by the three chiefs, including you—the privilege to freely access and review all spell research documents contributed by Spellcasters since the Federation’s founding, and to be given the right to publish theses and research reports through you at any time…]

Kemer Salas finally recovered from his daze, muttering to himself with a strange expression, “He… He wants to join the Federation anonymously? Wants to access and study the Federation’s spell research documents… and His ultimate goal is simply to publish research papers through the Federation???”

Chapter 149: The Anonymous Honorary Member

Araye, acclaimed as the City of Magic, the City of Miracles.

A massive floating Mage Tower stood high above the city, its form appearing and disappearing amidst the clouds. Its pure white stone body reflected a dazzling light under the sun’s rays.

This was the headquarters of the Federation of Casters, the iconic magical structure known as the Celestial Domain.

As one of the three Chiefs of the Supreme Council of the Federation, Kemer Salas rarely came here to work on a typical day. The position of Chief was merely an honorary title; the ones truly responsible for handling the complex daily affairs were the departments established under the Council: the Department of Magical Affairs, the Department of Combat and Defense, the Department of Academic Research, and the Department of External Affairs.

Araye’s laws forbade any Spellcaster from casually using flight spells within the city, but this did not restrict a Legendary Caster like Kemer Salas—using a short-range teleportation spell, a planar blink, was not, strictly speaking, considered flight.

On the pure white stone steps before the Mage Tower of the Celestial Domain, space suddenly distorted slightly. The next second, the figure of Kemer Salas, dressed in a simple mage’s robe, appeared directly on the staircase.

Paying no mind to the surrounding Spellcasters who subconsciously bowed to him, he hitched up the hem of his long robe and strode toward the tower’s main gate, taking two or three steps at a time.

Countless strange, mystical patterns were inscribed upon the great doors of the Celestial Domain tower. A bizarre, eyeless human face was carved as a bas-relief in the center of the doors. As Kemer Salas approached, the face suddenly trembled slightly, then broke into an exaggerated, fawning smile.

“Esteemed Lord Salas, welcome to the Celestial Domain. Lord Dawson has already arrived ahead of you and is currently awaiting your arrival in the lounge on the top floor…”

Salas cut off the eyeless face’s long-winded introduction with a deadpan expression. “Enzo, please shut up! Open the door for me!”

The face called Enzo gave a dry laugh and silently maneuvered the massive metal doors to swing slowly open.

The Legendary Caster stepped inside without hesitation, his pace much hastier than usual. He had been the one to invite the other two Chiefs to the Celestial Domain for a discussion today; there was no reason for him to be late and keep them waiting.

He took a small, dedicated teleportation array within the tower to the top floor. Guided by an attendant, he had just pushed open the doors to the lounge when he heard two voices engaged in a continuous dispute from within.

Salas frowned. He knew his two colleagues were once again debating some fantastical academic issue.

And this was with one of them unable to be in Araye in person; they were still arguing heatedly across the distance.

Inside the lounge, a short, elderly man stood animatedly before a full-length mirror inlaid with silver filigree, passionately expounding upon his viewpoint with spittle flying.

And within that seemingly ordinary full-length mirror, the image of a middle-aged man in black robes was displayed, leaning back at a desk. He was frowning and repeatedly rolling his eyes, wanting several times to interrupt the short old man’s tirade, but managing to restrain himself.

“Dawson, Gallagher, I’m here!” Salas walked forward and greeted them directly, rescuing the black-robed man in the mirror.

“Ha! Salas, you’ve finally arrived! I was about to be driven mad by this Dawson fellow. All day long, he’s fiddling with that useless research project of his and trying to drag me down with him…” The black-robed man in the mirror looked delighted, quickly standing up and pressing himself against the surface, smiling through the thin layer of silver-plated glass.

The short old man called Dawson had a rather comical red, bulbous nose and slightly thinning hair on top of his head. Hearing the mockery in the black-robed man’s words, he instantly flew into a rage out of shame.

“Useless research project? Who are you calling useless? My line of research has the potential to create an entirely new school of magic! Hmph, something you two will probably never achieve in your lifetimes…”

As he roared with emotion, flecks of saliva sprayed from his mouth onto the mirror’s surface, startling the black-robed man into backing away repeatedly, as if he didn’t want to suffer splash damage from the spittle even through the glass.

Salas interrupted speechlessly, “Alright, we’ll discuss your research project later. I didn’t call you here today for an academic debate!”

He slowly sat down on the soft sofa, picked up the black tea a servant had prepared for him in advance, took a sip, and then got to the main topic.

“The confidential report from Blackstone City last night… Gallagher, you arranged to have it sent ahead of time, didn’t you?”

The man in the mirror nodded. “That’s right. My informant stationed in the Evil Moon Mining Area obtained the intelligence at the earliest opportunity. After confirming the information’s authenticity, I immediately wrote to inform you both.”

He paused, then added with a somewhat complicated expression, “Because I wasn’t entirely sure if it was truly that mysterious being who acted, I didn’t dare send you a message directly through the Forum, for fear of leaking the news prematurely…”

This black-robed man was none other than one of the three Chiefs of the Federation, the Legendary Arcane Mage Wes Gallagher, and also the “Mr. Shadow Knight” whom Salas had personally recommended and invited to the Spellcaster Forum.

The other Chief, Sorun Dawson, was also a member of the Forum. However, he had only just been recommended to join by Shadow Knight a month ago and currently lacked speaking privileges, so he could only listen in.

“There’s no need to worry about leaks anymore. I have directly confirmed with Mr. Turing that it was indeed He who acted…”

The moment Salas spoke, the other two immediately fell into a brief silence.

“A mysterious being from the Plane of the Magic Net who can instantly cross planes to kill a high-ranking bloodline knight, along with the dozens of mid-ranking Army of Judgment soldiers and Priests guarding him…”

“I admit I could not do that so easily. Even if I could kill them, it would take some effort and time, and I would definitely expose my identity…” Gallagher sighed with a complex expression.

As a Legendary Arcane Caster, his primary school of magic was the rather niche shadow magic. Furthermore, as the only Chief among the three to have come from a battle mage background, if even he found the task difficult to handle cleanly, then it truly demonstrated a certain level of difficulty.

A Legendary Battle Mage’s high-circle attack spells were certainly powerful and unparalleled, on the condition that he could cast them without restraint and with indiscriminate targeting. For a long-famous Legendary Mage like Gallagher, any significant move would immediately expose his true identity through his self-created high-circle spells. It would be difficult to conceal.

For once, Dawson agreed with Gallagher’s point of view, though the facts were staring them in the face. “Your Shadow Storm would have no problem flattening the Evil Moon Mining Area directly, but the civilians… I’m afraid they would have been unlikely to survive. It’s fortunate that Mr. Turing was willing to act and even kept our hands clean.”

He was a typical, old-school research-type Spellcaster. For him to resolve the dispute in the Evil Moon Mining Area would be even more troublesome than for Gallagher. After all, he didn’t know many high-circle attack spells, and his most powerful, “Dawson’s Soul Siphon,” was an indiscriminate attack with an extremely wide area of effect once cast.

Salas sighed. “Alright, since the report indicates the problem has been perfectly resolved, we don’t need to rehash the plans we’ve discussed countless times. It was a foregone conclusion that none of the three of us could act.”

“The issue now is that, in response to the promise I made earlier, He has made a very strange request. I didn’t agree immediately, but to avoid angering that Mr., we need to discuss this and reach a conclusion as soon as possible.”

“One of Their members wishes to join the Federation anonymously… and wants special authorization to freely access and review spell research literature, as well as the right to publish research papers.”

Dawson was stunned, asking with a bizarre expression, “What? Access literature and publish papers? He… or They… helped us just for this?”

Gallagher, in the mirror, also interjected in disbelief, “Any active Spellcaster in the Federation with reasonably high clearance can obtain these rights. This… isn’t this price far too low?”

Salas nodded in agreement. “Indeed, I find it strange as well, but I can’t fathom what it could mean. After all, they are not our kind. Although they have never shown any malice in the past, we must still be on guard against any potential conspiracies…”

Dawson couldn’t help but sneer, speaking self-deprecatingly, “What? Do you think the Federation’s outdated knowledge and rigid spells, which we guard so jealously, are worth them paying such a price to plagiarize? Hmph, think about their methods. Crushing a few Demon Slayers is as easy for them as crushing a few flies…”

Salas sighed softly. He also felt that his thoughts were a bit too sensitive and reactionary. “Gallagher? What are your thoughts?”

The legendary battle mage in black robes pondered for a moment before responding cautiously, “I am inclined to agree with Dawson’s view. With Their abilities and status, it’s highly unlikely They are truly after the Federation itself. We are all well aware that the so-called precious literature and spell research papers piled up in the Celestial Domain tower are probably worthless in the eyes of ancient, wise races.”

The advantage that short-lived species like humans have on the path of magic can’t compare to the millennia of accumulated knowledge of long-lived ancient races. The only edge they could gain was the courage for reform and a fervent passion for knowledge. This was the real reason human Spellcasters were able to stand at the pinnacle of the continent’s Tower of Magic.

“I’ve heard that some reclusive ancient races enjoy observing and recording various historical fragments and knowledge lost to the river of time… This Mr. who wishes to join us is even called an Observer by his handle. I suspect he truly is as his name suggests—an ancient being with a peculiar hobby…”

The three Legendary Casters exchanged a glance, finally reaching a consensus on the matter.

They agreed to allow the mysterious Mr. named Observer Neumann to join the Federation of Casters anonymously. With the unanimous authorization of the three Chiefs, He would be permitted to freely access and review the spell research literature collected and preserved within the Federation, and would also be granted the special right to publish research papers.

And so, the first honorary member in the Federation’s several-hundred-year history—one who enjoyed all the rights without needing to fulfill any of the obligations—was officially born.

Chapter 150: A Magical Wikipedia

Harvey soon received a reply from The Scorching Sovereign, who confirmed that he would honor his previous promise.

[The Scorching Sovereign: Esteemed Mr. Turing, after discussing the matter with the other two Chiefs, we have unanimously agreed to your request. We now formally invite Mr. Observer Neumann to join the Federation of Casters as an honorary member…]

He read the rather long message over and over, unable to suppress the smile spreading across his face. Finally, he couldn’t help but slap his desk and burst out laughing.

Harvey knew exactly what this meant—he would gain the highest level of access to a vast collection of priceless literature and magical knowledge. He would be qualified to freely access and read any magical tome that the Federation had recorded and collected over the past thousand years.

For Harvey, a mid-rank Spellcaster who had just learned to swim, this was like being granted an entire, boundless ocean of magical knowledge. How could he not be ecstatic?

In his former identity as a Necromancer, although he had been a properly registered Mage who graduated from a formal Mage academy, obtaining anything close to unrestricted access to knowledge would have been a monumental task. He would have needed to become a formal member of the Federation, serve for several years in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, slowly accumulate prestige and rank, and finally advance to a high-level caster just to have a chance.

As far as Harvey knew, the number of high-level casters in the Federation who came from a Necromancer background was so small you could count them on two hands, and none of them held any significant positions. They were severely marginalized.

“Next, I’ll need to communicate with them and figure out a suitable way for me to access these documents online…”

After all, Harvey couldn’t possibly visit the Celestial Domain’s magical library in Araye in person; that would be no different from streaking naked down the main street. He could only leverage the convenience of the Magic Net Forum and have the Federation set up a dedicated working group to interface with him, uploading the materials he needed to the Forum for his review.

Harvey didn’t think they would refuse this proposal. This dedicated document-uploading group would also mean two or three additional Forum membership slots for the Federation, which was precisely what their little clique wanted.

The faction with the most members on the Forum held the most say and could maximize their own interests.

“If I can convince the Federation to upload all their valuable literature and data to the Forum, creating a Magic Net Forum version of Wikipedia, that would be the most attractive and valuable thing of all…” A spark of inspiration suddenly flashed through Harvey’s mind as he recalled the painful experience of searching for countless reference documents and papers during his graduation season in his past life.

Yes, that was indeed a brilliant idea. But putting it into practice would likely be a protracted process, and a finished product wouldn’t be possible in the short term. Still, he could try to create a prototype first.

Once Harvey had an idea, he would act on it immediately. He grabbed a pen and paper and began to draft the basic framework of his plan.

First, this Magic Wikipedia had to be an independent section on the Forum with restricted access.

Forum members could be divided into different access tiers based on their points; the higher the tier, the more information they could view…

But this presented a problem—members who were already affiliated with the Federation would gain no benefit from this system. After all, they could already read the documents freely in the Celestial Domain’s magic tower without spending any points.

Therefore, Harvey had to add an open-knowledge rule. Members from other intelligent species, outside the Federation, could also upload their own race’s knowledge or valuable historical data. The value of this content would be judged by the ratings given by paying users, allowing the uploader to earn a corresponding number of points.

This would achieve true knowledge monetization, fully aligning with the Forum’s founding principle of “open exchange.”

“I wonder if these Spellcasters, who already hold high positions in various magical organizations in the real world, can accept this method of completely open exchange and free circulation of magical knowledge, given the current rigid barriers between caster factions…”

As the continent’s largest official organization of Spellcasters, the Federation was the most open and progressive when it came to academic exchange. This was thanks to the numerous Mage academies they had established across the Southern Continent, which had broken the firm grip a few wizarding families once held over the profession.

However, the conservative faction within the Federation still held the upper hand in terms of numbers. On academic matters, they still adhered to the outdated ways of the old wizarding establishment, keeping a tight lock on much of their magical knowledge and research findings.

Harvey could only surmise that the Federation members who were qualified to join the Spellcaster Forum were not part of these conservative factions. But if the number of members were to expand significantly in the future, it would inevitably attract the hostility and attacks of the conservatives.

As for The Scorching Sovereign, the Chief of the Federation, his cover had already been blown as far as Harvey was concerned. He was at least certain to be on the Forum’s side, as long as it didn’t harm the Federation’s interests.

“I hope this open-minded Chief Archmage can mediate on my behalf and clear away the obstacles from the conservative faction…” Harvey mused to himself as he wrote down his plan.

…

In truth, many magical theories and pieces of knowledge from ancient wizards had long been overturned by the magical geniuses who had emerged over a thousand years of rapid development. Even the meditation method Harvey had learned as an entry-level student at the Necromancy Academy had undergone generations of refinement and improvement.

However, the unique original spells of Legendary Casters and the constantly evolving modified spells of high-level casters were still far more popular among modern Spellcasters than the mixture of old and new universal spells.

The Federation of Casters in Araye had only been founded a mere century ago. Although it had inherited much of the magical legacy of the ancient wizard kingdoms of the past, the latter’s knowledge reserves were far inferior to the former’s in terms of both quantity and quality.

After all, the sole criterion for judging a spell was its effect. Whether it was a combat spell or a support spell, all strictly followed a unified evaluation system.

Most of the universal spells passed down from ancient times had been studied to death by countless Spellcasters, leaving little potential for new improvements. Only original spells could still provide Spellcasters with inspiration for research. By studying and analyzing their fundamental principles, one could open the sole path to advancing in rank.

This was Harvey’s main reason for wanting to create the Magic Wikipedia. Innovation and development always stemmed from broad mutual exchange and learning.

After drafting the framework for the Magic Wikipedia’s Forum module, he logged into the Magic Net with the new handle he had registered in advance—Observer Neumann. He then clicked on the handle of The Scorching Sovereign, who was currently online and active, and initiated a request for a private conversation.

[Observer Neumann: Greetings, Mr. Scorching Sovereign. I apologize for taking so long to contact you. I believe Mr. Turing has already introduced me to you…]

[The Scorching Sovereign: It is an honor to speak with you, Mr. Observer. Are you contacting me today regarding the matter of joining the Federation?]

Harvey glanced at the proposal for the Magic Wikipedia that was sitting next to his “Magic Brain” device. He briefly summarized its contents in text and sent it to the Legendary Caster.

[Observer Neumann: The above outlines some of my requirements for accessing and viewing information after joining the Federation. As you surely know, I cannot easily travel to Araye and enter the Celestial Domain’s magical library to peruse the tomes in person. Therefore, I need you to assign dedicated personnel to upload all the materials I require… Of course, in return, I am willing to offer three entry slots for new Forum members as compensation for the services you provide.]

As Salas read the message on the crystal panel, he wasn’t particularly surprised. He knew full well that neither Mr. Turing nor this Mr. Observer was likely to visit Araye in person. This group of beings, suspected to be an ancient race from another dimension, was probably bound by certain rules of the physical plane, preventing their true selves from descending into the real world. They could only communicate discreetly with Spellcasters from the real world through platforms like the Spellcaster Forum.

[The Scorching Sovereign: This is a minor issue and your request can certainly be met. I will arrange for three staff members to be directly responsible for retrieving the magical literature and research data stored within the Federation for you. At the same time, these three individuals will still adhere to the basic requirements for joining the Forum; they will all be high-level casters, which will be fairer.]

Harvey couldn’t help but chuckle. The Chief had probably already secretly selected a long line of high-level casters waiting to join the Spellcaster Forum. Being able to jump the queue now was a huge boon for them, saving them from having to pay a large number of points or compete in an auction for a spot during the next recruitment drive.

[Observer Neumann: In addition to that, I have an interesting proposal I would like to discuss with you directly… It’s about my idea to create a virtual treasury of magical knowledge within the Forum, something akin to the Celestial Domain’s magical library. I wonder if you would have any interest in this?]

Harvey’s hands flew across the typing keys on the “Magic Brain” device, pouring out the basic framework and operating rules of the Magic Wikipedia he had drafted earlier in a torrent of text to the Legendary Caster on the other side.

The Scorching Sovereign’s handle flickered continuously, indicating that he was receiving and reading the long messages Harvey was sending. But for a long time, there was no reply. Harvey couldn’t tell if he had been stunned by the audacity of the idea, or if he suspected Harvey of having some ulterior, sinister motive.

“He actually wants to take the Federation’s archival research documents and magical knowledge and share it publicly with all Forum members by uploading it to the Spellcaster Forum?” Sorun Dawson stood beside Salas, staring at the text on the crystal panel. He looked at his colleague in disbelief.

“What a preposterous and ridiculous idea! Heh, forget the original spells that only Legendary Casters are qualified and capable of creating; even the modified spells of high-level casters are treasured possessions they wouldn’t let anyone covet. Without an exchange of equal value, who would be willing to share them publicly?” Sorun Dawson paced back and forth in the study, agitated, muttering to himself as he refuted the Observer’s proposal.

Salas, however, fell unexpectedly silent. He did not immediately second Dawson’s remarks.

It wasn’t just the rigid and conservative seven wizard kingdoms; even within the Federation, there was a large conservative faction of Spellcasters. Their views and opinions were identical to those of an old-school research-type Spellcaster like Dawson.

“Dawson, have you ever considered this? Thousands of years ago, our wizard ancestors learned how to acquire and use magic from Dragons, Elves, Giants, Devils, and all sorts of other magical creatures. Then, through trial and error, they analyzed and created various forms of magic, thereby gaining immense power. As humans, the weakest of the short-lived species on the continent, they rose to the pinnacle of the supernatural world…”

“Such a glorious and honorable victory made us, their successors, pursue the knowledge and power brought by magic with even greater obsession and fervor. We spread the seeds of magic throughout the entire Southern Continent… until the sudden appearance and rise of the Radiant Church. In just a few hundred years, they grew to rival us in strength, even surpassing us several times over in prestige in the eyes of the secular mortals. For the past century, we have even been forced into a shameful alliance with them just to resist the large-scale invasion of the Demons…”

The voice of Legendary Caster Kemer Salas grew deeper and deeper, his emotions seemingly fluctuating abnormally. Even Dawson, who had been furious just moments before, calmed down, his gaze dimming.

“If we continue to let the conservatives keep a tight grip on the knowledge and research findings of the magical world, if we continue to erect high barriers between the old establishments, I fear that in a few more decades, when we old fossils have gradually passed away, it will be difficult for any genius who could be called Legendary to emerge from among the human Spellcasters again…”

He stood up and stared deeply at his old friend, with whom he had worked for a full thirty years, and warned with profound meaning.

“At that time, the end of the road for human Spellcasters will truly have arrived…”

Chapter 151: The Buried Genius

Having successfully achieved his goal of joining the Federation anonymously and persuading the Legendary Caster, Mr. The Scorching Sovereign, to agree to upload the Federation’s collected and organized magical literature and research findings to the Forum for public sharing, Harvey dedicated all his attention and time to writing the code for the Forum’s Magic Encyclopedia.

According to his verbal agreement with The Scorching Sovereign, Harvey was responsible for the technical work of developing and creating this online magic library. However, the task of screening and uploading the literature would be handled by members specifically recommended by the Federation. Furthermore, for all magical knowledge provided by the Federation, the Federation’s members on the Forum would receive a portion of the points earned when other members paid to view it.

Harvey found these requests quite reasonable. After all, the foundation of this Magic Encyclopedia came from the Federation. He himself didn’t have the energy or time to sort through and screen such a massive volume of academic literature, let alone manually transcribe and type it all up for the Spellcaster Forum.

He had heard that the Hand of Control, an upgraded version of Mage Hand improved by high-level casters, could simultaneously manipulate several virtual magical hands to perform tasks like transcribing documents or conducting experiments. He wondered if the high-level caster assigned by the Federation to this task would use this spell to complete such a massive and arduous workload.

The Scorching Sovereign also made it a point to clarify that they wouldn’t be sharing their entire collection of literature in a short period. After all, to make this collaboration happen, the Chief had pushed it through against immense pressure and doubt from the conservative faction within the Federation, staking his own position and reputation. Therefore, knowledge involving cutting-edge research and original spells could not be handed over to Harvey just yet.

Harvey immediately expressed his understanding and agreement. You have to eat a meal one bite at a time; outdated ideas and conservative practices couldn’t be changed overnight.

“Once you all get a real taste of the benefits of sharing and communication from my Magic Encyclopedia, you will naturally and willingly join this vast and mighty wave of internet knowledge sharing…”

…

Soon after Harvey finished coding the Magic Encyclopedia and launching its features, three Federation members, who had long been on standby, quickly applied and formally joined the Spellcaster Forum.

Harvey granted them editing and uploading permissions for the encyclopedia section. Factoring in the time needed for content screening and manual uploading, he estimated that this new knowledge monetization section could be officially opened to Forum members in about a month at most.

As for Harvey himself, he could check the fresh literature being constantly uploaded by these three diligent high-level casters in real-time on the Magic Net’s server host every day.

While most of it was currently related to research on universal spells and in-depth analyses of magical theory, it was still a significant gain for Harvey compared to the outdated teaching materials he had learned at the Necromancy Academy, allowing him to reinforce the theoretical knowledge he had previously acquired.

For example, a book titled A Dictionary of Ancient Wizard Incantations and the Continental Common Tongue greatly interested Harvey, as it was immensely helpful in deciphering and analyzing the ancient wizard knowledge Astaren had shared with him.

There was also an ancient grimoire called The Book of Summons and Fables, which had been fully deciphered by a research caster in the Federation skilled in translating ancient incantations. After annotating the key points, it was recompiled into a document suitable for modern Spellcasters to read.

Although this content did not fall within the scope of a Necromancer’s spell research, it greatly broadened Harvey’s theoretical horizons. After all, Necromancers were among the most highly specialized mages among Spellcasters. Limited by their school of magic, most could only focus on researching death energy and the magic of soul and flesh.

Harvey’s research in necromancy focused mainly on soul transfer and Life Alchemy. This had been his steadfast goal since his time at the Necromancy Academy, and the facts proved that his choices and efforts had yielded results far surpassing his predecessors. With the aid of a Transmigrator’s unique Mental Anchor, he had successfully conducted an experiment transferring the soul of a living being into an alchemical construct.

“I wonder if Professor Gavin, the one who threw my thesis in my face back then, would be shocked speechless if he knew about my current research achievements…”

Thinking of his thesis advisor, who was now a mid-level Necromancer of the same rank as himself, Harvey felt a sense of surreal displacement, as if a lifetime had passed. It had only been three years since he graduated from the Necromancy Academy.

“My lord, come take a look at this research paper…” Seated next to Harvey in the study, Astaren, who also had a ‘Magic Brain’ device, was currently using Harvey’s smurf account—Kel’Thuzad—to help Harvey browse and review the newly uploaded Federation documents.

As an ancient wizard and a half-blood vampire, Astaren was more knowledgeable than Harvey in both magical theory and general learning. Thus, he was specifically tasked with searching for and organizing content that could be helpful to Harvey’s research.

“Oh? Is it a paper on soul research? I don’t recall them uploading anything on that topic recently…”

It wasn’t that the Federation was deliberately holding back. It was mainly because magical literature concerning soul research was exceptionally rare, and most of it bordered on the realm of forbidden magic. This meant it couldn’t even pass the review process, so naturally, it wasn’t part of the Federation’s collection goals.

Astaren murmured, “I don’t think this paper is strictly about a specific type of spell research… Instead… it’s a very broad theoretical exposition, a completely new one. I’ve never heard of anything like it before. It’s truly novel and fascinating.”

This thoroughly piqued Harvey’s curiosity. He quickly sat down in the seat Astaren offered and began to read the strange, not-particularly-long document with rapt attention.

The straightforward and concise thesis statement at the beginning of the paper immediately captivated Harvey.

【I believe that the magic of ancient wizards was primarily derived from imitating other magical creatures, based on ignorant and clumsy exploration…】

【Modern magical theory, while still built upon the foundation of ancient wizard research, has begun to touch upon the study of the source of magic and the laws of energy. Fortunately, we are finally beginning to pursue an understanding of the fundamental nature and principles governing the extraordinary power of this world…】

【What is the fundamental nature of the extraordinary?】

【Why were we able to discover the Magic Net? And why can we draw an inexhaustible supply of magical energy from it for our own use?】

【Where does the endless energy within the Magic Net originate? And how is it generated?】

Reading these three seemingly abstract questions, Harvey found them utterly thought-provoking.

The author who dared to ask these questions was contemplating something that even Harvey, a Transmigrator, could not answer with any certainty: does this world, filled with extraordinary power, also abide by the law of conservation of energy?

Chapter 152: An Unexpectedly Original Spell

“In the theoretical knowledge we have always studied, how exactly are the four basic elements of wind, fire, earth, and water transformed from pure magical energy in the Magic Net into their elemental structures?”

“Are these four basic elements formed from even more microscopic, unknown elements? If so, what exactly would those unknown elements be?”

Harvey was so shaken by the opening questions of this paper that it took him a long time to calm down. He believed that even if he read the entire article, he wouldn’t find the true answers to these questions. After all, these were ultimate problems that even he, a Transmigrator, could not solve.

But there were two key points that particularly excited and puzzled Harvey:

Does the supernatural world also follow the law of conservation of energy?

Can the fundamental laws of magical elements correspond to macroscopic and microscopic scientific concepts?

In Harvey’s view, the first question was clearly related to the research field of the Magic Net. As long as he could figure out the formation and operating principles of the Magic Net, and how magical energy was generated from it to be continuously drawn upon by Spellcasters through meditation, he could naturally explore the fundamental nature of energy in the magical world.

The second question was relatively easier to understand. Whether the four elements of magic were the fundamental elements of the material world was, in Harvey’s opinion, highly doubtful. At the very least, in the many alchemical experiments he had conducted, it had become clear that substances like metals, minerals, and magical creatures and plants very likely contained more microscopic “elements”—a fact that completely followed the laws of physics.

However, the powerful spells that existed beyond the four elements, those involving mental energy, souls, arcane astrology, and spatial distortion, made it impossible for him to truly integrate the scientific knowledge and principles from his past life into his research of this otherworldly magic.

Harvey took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down and enter a stable state for study and research. He read the short, theoretical paper from beginning to end.

“In the author’s eyes, the four basic elements of magic are described as something closer to macroscopic forms of force.”

“Perhaps the true fundamental forms of force involving the supernatural in this world should be called—gravity, electromagnetic force, and… the corresponding strong and weak interaction forces.”

“And the four elements are merely different manifestations of these respective forms of force…”

As his thoughts deepened and expanded, Harvey dazedly sat down and entered a strange, semi-meditative state. This time, he wasn’t guided into the Magic Net space. Instead, he was pulled directly into the dark, cosmic expanse within his Mental Anchor, left to float in the void, gazing at the azure planet that was his anchor point.

This time, the cosmic space he was in was no longer empty and void. A stretch of starry sky appeared around him, looking as if it had been temporarily cut and pasted into place. It was exceptionally brilliant against the dark universe, each star like a strange, constantly flickering point of light.

An invisible, fine thread extended from each star, connecting to the illusory projection formed by Harvey’s mental energy. At the same time, the blue planet named home also extended a slightly thicker line that connected tightly to Harvey, holding him in a stable position within the void of space through this dual connection between the stars and the planet.

Harvey’s emotions were very stable in this meditative state. Upon discovering the change within his Mental Anchor, he immediately entered a state of observation and research.

“The connection from the starry sky and the connection from the planet—do they represent the mutual pull between gravity and an opposing force? Did this vision appear because I was inspired by the ideas in that theoretical paper?”

At this thought, Harvey couldn’t help but mutter a complaint to himself. “To think that the four fundamental forces of science—gravity, the strong and weak interaction forces, and the electromagnetic force—could be linked to mental energy and soul energy in a magical world. It gives me the feeling that science and metaphysics have somehow perfectly combined. No wonder even a genius like Einstein would sigh that the end of science is theology…”

Harvey forcibly suppressed the myriad of questions in his mind and began to extend thin, thread-like tentacles of mental energy from his own projection, slowly making contact with the stars that were so abruptly embedded in the void.

Soon, Harvey’s mental tendrils followed the invisible thread connected to him and touched the illusory star cluster. He randomly chose a brilliant star and slowly began to merge his mental energy with it.

Suddenly, he felt his mental tendril vibrate violently, as if it were a taut string that had been sharply plucked by some force. His mental projection began to resonate at the same frequency.

Harvey quickly sent out several more mental tendrils, twisting them around the original one to stabilize it as it was pulled and vibrated with increasing intensity, almost to the point of snapping.

The connected star suddenly burst forth with a brighter glow, and this silvery-white starlight gradually spread along the mental tendrils Harvey had extended, dyeing them the same brilliant silver. The vibrations gradually ceased. Harvey only felt a jolt in his mental projection, which then began to be slowly pulled by the tendrils, floating toward the starry sky.

Just as he was about to make contact with the stars, a pulling force of equal strength came from behind him. Harvey clearly felt that it was the thick connecting line from his home planet that had stopped him, preventing him from plunging directly into that strange sea of stars.

Under the pull of these two interacting forces, Harvey’s mental projection began to slowly and rhythmically drift in a stable pattern between the starry sky and the planet.

“Why do I feel like a living satellite orbiting the Earth right now…” Harvey wasn’t the least bit panicked; instead, he found the strange phenomenon rather amusing.

The starry sky was connected to his projection, and the projection was in turn pulled into orbit by the planet. The silver radiance spreading from the stars in the sky followed the connection of the mental tendrils and seeped into his projection.

Harvey felt his sea of consciousness and sigil begin to expand and fill up. A continuous stream of pure magical energy poured into him, making even his soul feel bloated.

He couldn’t help but look up at the starry sky again and noticed that the star he was connected to had dimmed considerably, as if it had been exhausted by the energy he had drawn from it.

With a thought, Harvey tried to channel the pure magical energy he had just absorbed back into the dim star through his mental tendrils.

Sure enough, the star quickly brightened again. But something even more miraculous happened the next moment.

The star, once again shining with brilliant light, suddenly pulsed with a powerful, radioactive-like ray, causing the illusory cosmic space Harvey was in to tremble violently.

Harvey felt as if all his mental energy had been sucked dry in an instant. No longer able to maintain his illusory projection, he was forced to exit his Mental Anchor, ending his meditation and returning to the real world.

The moment he opened his eyes, he found Astaren, Rainer, Egnor, and the others lying scattered in a disheveled state on the carpet of his study.

The entire study was in chaos, as if it had just been through a violent lab accident. The edges of the decorative tapestries on the walls were scorched, the candles had melted and dripped, and the “Magic Brain” instrument in front of him was emitting a wisp of blue smoke, looking completely overheated and scrapped.

Small electric sparks continuously flashed across the metal bodies of the two alchemical lifeforms. The worst off was the half-elf Egnor. Every strand of his thick, messy hair stood on end as if he had been struck by lightning, and his eyes were shut tight as he lay unconscious.

Rainer, lying on the floor, suddenly twitched. The alchemical inscriptions on his head and chest lit up again. It seemed that his higher-model body allowed him to recover much faster, rebooting far more quickly than Astaren.

Harvey quickly rushed over and knelt, but he didn’t dare touch Rainer’s still-sparking metal body. He asked anxiously, “What on earth happened in the study while I was meditating?”

“My… My lord…” Rainer began, his voice laced with crackling static, making his tone incredibly strange and comical. “You… you were in a meditative state… and suddenly released an unknown… area-of-effect attack spell. We didn’t have time to dodge…”

Harvey slumped to the floor, his eyes wide as he muttered to himself, “Now I know… Aside from gravity and the strong and weak interaction forces… I’ve just discovered how the final force I hadn’t found in my Mental Anchor—the electromagnetic force—exists and manifests itself…”

He, a true mid-rank Spellcaster, had unintentionally created an original spell that was not based on the four elements, and was also distinct from the pure magical energy of the arcane arts… an electromagnetic spell.

Chapter 153: Harvey’s Magnetic Storm Field

Because of a highly imaginative theoretical paper, Harvey had accidentally released the Electromagnetic Force within his Mental Anchor, causing considerable harm to the castle study and his three assistants.

Fortunately, he had triggered the electromagnetic energy fluctuation unintentionally while in a state of meditation, rather than truly casting a spell through a decoded spell model and sigil. Otherwise, the flesh-and-blood Egnor would have likely died on the spot, and Rainer and Astaren’s alchemical bodies would have suffered destructive damage.

After being forced to drink a potion and waking from a deep, electrocution-induced coma, Egnor immediately fled Harvey’s castle in a panic. He decided not to meet with Harvey directly for the foreseeable future, opting to report his work using a one-way Communication device to avoid being caught in the crossfire of his Lord’s crazy experiments again.

After rebooting and recovering, Rainer and Astaren inspected each other’s alchemical bodies, replacing some of the delicate, high-precision parts that had been damaged by Harvey’s electromagnetic surge. Then, in anxious tones, they pleaded with Harvey not to attempt any more dangerous spell analyses.

Naturally, Harvey couldn’t explain to them how he, a mere mid-rank Spellcaster, had managed to create a unique spell in his Mental Anchor completely independent of elemental and arcane magic.

He could only pretend his mental energy was depleted and lie down on the study sofa for a short rest, reassuring the two assistants who wanted to stay by his side to observe his condition, and convincing them to return to their posts.

After they left, Harvey immediately sprang up from the sofa and returned to the only remaining functional Magic Brain. He opened the Magic Encyclopedia page, flipped to the paper, and scrolled straight to the end.

Author—Julian Aziz.

Officially registered with the Federation, mid-rank Arcane Caster, employed at the Oland Royal Magic Academy, junior instructor.

Harvey paused for a moment, surprised to find that the author wasn’t a knowledgeable and broad-minded high-level caster, but a mid-rank Mage like himself. The man didn’t even hold an official position in the Federation; he was just a registered member whose main job was that of an unremarkable junior instructor.

“This man must have profound achievements in the field of magical theory, yet I’ve never seen his name or papers in any Federation bulletin. It seems he’s an overlooked theoretical research genius…”

Unfortunately, he was in Oland, a wizard kingdom on the far eastern edge of the Southern Continent, thousands of miles away from Harvey. Otherwise, Harvey would have sent him a letter at once, inviting him to his territory for a face-to-face discussion.

With some regret, Harvey logged out of the Spellcaster Forum and decided to immediately begin the first research project of his life: analyzing and perfecting his very own original magic.

Since he had acquired the special electromagnetic energy from the stars directly in his Mental Anchor through guided meditation, he only needed to reconnect with his mental energy and sense the energy’s transformation state and fluctuation frequency from that star to clearly construct the basic model for this original spell.

Returning to the real world, Harvey immediately grabbed a pen and paper. Relying on his memory, he drew the spell model on the paper, completing the entire structure according to his understanding of its energy flow and operational principles.

Entering the Magic Net space once more, Harvey began to formally draw and inscribe the complete model of the spell into his sigil using his mental energy.

Unfortunately, due to his lack of practical experience, Harvey failed as many as six times. Every time he tried to draw a few key nodes of the model, his lack of proficiency in controlling his mental energy caused chaos in the fusion and linking of the nodes.

Fortunately, the Mental Anchor provided a vast reserve of mental energy. Harvey also paused to take a stamina-recovering potion, and in the end, he successfully inscribed the spell.

As the final line of the model merged with an energy connection point, the three-dimensional model constructed by the spell matrix was officially complete. Within an empty spell circle slot inside Harvey’s sigil, a spinning silver ring materialized. Inside the ring, countless particles, almost too small to be seen, moved at high speeds, flashing with tiny sparks of electricity as they collided.

Harvey opened his eyes. Sitting at his desk, he raised one hand and slammed it down on the tabletop. A faint silver light flashed from his palm, and an invisible wave of electromagnetic energy spread outward from its center.

With a crackle, the last Magic Brain sparked and, emitting a plume of green smoke, was declared scrapped.

The energy wave continued to spread, destroying all materials and objects containing metal along its path. Just as it was about to reach the study walls, Harvey abruptly clenched his hand into a fist, halting the electromagnetic wave in its tracks.

“I can control the strength and range of the electromagnetic energy by guiding the degree of magical energy conversion…”

Harvey had a feeling that if he were to unleash it completely, pouring out all the magical energy stored in his sigil, the resulting electromagnetic energy could probably cover the entire Lord’s Castle, and in a three-dimensional, saturated fashion at that.

“As expected of an original spell. Not only does it not require an incantation or spell components, but its intensity is freely controllable, and the electromagnetic damage is an area-of-effect attack…”

Harvey had never imagined he could actually draw inspiration from a theoretical paper and, as a mid-rank Spellcaster, stumble his way into creating an original spell—something only a Legendary Caster should be able to achieve.

“I can’t observe its practical effects for now, so I’ll have to classify it as an offensive spell. Hmm… I’ll test its power tomorrow at the spell testing ground in the underground laboratory. For now, I’ll define it as a sixth-circle spell, the highest for a mid-rank caster.”

Harvey rubbed his hands together in satisfaction and muttered to himself, “This original spell, which belongs only to me, shall be named—Floyd’s Magnetic Storm Field! Hahaha!”

Amid his excitement, Harvey suddenly remembered that according to the customs and regulations of the wizard kingdoms and the Federation, any high-level caster who created an original spell could be granted the honorary title of Legendary, provided they submitted their research findings and a corresponding paper, and it was unanimously approved by the three Chiefs of the Supreme Council.

The three Chief Archmages of the Federation were, of course, long-famous and powerful spellcasters who had long held the Legendary title themselves. They were more than qualified and experienced to review and judge the original spells of other high-level casters, determining whether they met the basic requirements for an original spell. Not only the model structure but also the power and utility would be evaluated in detail.

“If I submit the results of this original spell to the Federation, isn’t it very likely that I could… become the only Mage in history to receive the Legendary title as a mid-rank Spellcaster? And a Necromancer at that…”

It would probably cause a massive uproar throughout the continent’s entire magical community. Countless doubts and probings would instantly drown Harvey alive.

No! He could not submit this spell paper under his real identity. It would bring him incalculable danger and the risk of exposure, especially since his pioneer territory was still in the early stages of development.

Harvey immediately made a decisive choice. He would hide the research results of this original spell. Later, he would find an opportunity to anonymously upload it to the Magic Encyclopedia on the Spellcaster Forum. This way, the Federation Chiefs could review his spell online without knowing his true identity.

After all, as a spellcaster, Harvey was very curious about the true power of his original spell, what tier it would be rated, and whether it was enough to qualify him for the Legendary title that all mages dreamed of and yearned for their entire lives.

Chapter 154: The Alchemy of a New Era (Part 1)

Aufre Quinn walked into his private Alchemy Workshop.

The apprentices and alchemists all stopped their work, bowing with a hand to their chest to greet him.

“Chief!”

“Good day, Mentor!”

He waved his hand casually. “Don’t mind me. Carry on with your work.”

This Alchemy Workshop, belonging exclusively to Aufre, was established by him and Ed using their family background and private funds. Although it was still affiliated with the Esoteric Society, it was, in both name and practice, the private property of the two brothers.

Therefore, the workshop did not typically accept alchemy orders from the Federation or the wizard kingdom. More often, it customized expensive alchemical products for the secular nobility.

For example, there was the alchemical repeating crossbow, which could be mounted on the walls of a Lord’s Castle. A single magic apprentice could operate it alone; by infusing it with magical energy, it could instantly fire dozens of arrows. Its power was immense, making it a favorite among the lords and nobles throughout the south.

The outer section of the Alchemy Workshop was the Material Sorting Room, where magical materials and alchemical ores shipped to Araye from various places were classified, screened, and cleaned.

Nearly a hundred alchemy apprentices, trained by the Quinn family, performed the most basic tasks here. They would typically undergo five to eight years of apprenticeship until they had a thorough understanding of identifying and processing all kinds of alchemical materials. Only then would they have the chance to be promoted to Journeyman Alchemist and formally begin their study of alchemy.

Among them were a few particularly talented apprentices who would be directly chosen by the Quinn brothers as their chief disciples to study alchemy under their personal guidance. Such lucky individuals were few and far between, and the opportunity was practically a meteoric rise.

Aufre passed through the Material Sorting Room, walked slowly past the storage area, and entered the core working area of the Alchemy Workshop—the Refining Room.

Pushing open the heavy wooden door of the Refining Room, which was coated with a fire-retardant solvent, the view suddenly opened up. Several enormous, single-piece stone pillars served as the foundation, supporting the extremely spacious room.

All four stone walls were inscribed with special reinforcing alchemical inscriptions. This was to prevent an explosion or fire from completely destroying the room and affecting other areas of the workshop.

The roof was made of special magic crystal panels fitted over the skylights and clerestory windows to provide natural light, making the room exceptionally bright. A long row of metal workbenches was cluttered with all sorts of alchemical instruments: crystal flasks, glass beakers, small metal scales, crucibles, grinders…

Each official alchemist was independently responsible for a single refining process, carrying out their work in an orderly fashion.

Compared to the Esoteric Society’s Alchemical Weapon Workshop, which was perpetually filled with the pungent odor of Dragon’s Flame powder and plagued by occasional combustion accidents from operational errors, Aufre much preferred his own small, private workshop—simple, orderly, clean, and tidy.

This was what the essence of alchemy should be: an orderly fusion of various materials through heating, distillation, magic infusion, and refining… The final results were endlessly varied and utterly captivating.

In this process of transformation from chaos to order, finding a clear experimental direction, following a set procedure to realize that vision, and then obtaining the precise, anticipated result—that was a rare alchemical formula.

Those who could improve upon existing alchemical formulas could be considered official alchemists, but only those who could create original formulas were qualified for high-rank advancement. To date, Aufre and Ed had created over a dozen alchemical formulas, which was how they had advanced to become two of the twelve Chiefs of the Alchemical Exploration Society.

Aufre casually called over a few of the family’s alchemists, gently inquired about their work progress, and then offered them some professional encouragement.

He scanned the room and noticed that at a workbench in the corner, one of his disciples was scrambling to perform an experiment that looked completely different from what everyone else was doing.

“Chris, what are you messing with now? Why aren’t you working on the workshop’s orders with the others?” Aufre frowned and scolded him in a low voice.

The young alchemist Chris, who looked to be in his early twenties, hurriedly bowed to his mentor. “Mentor, I’ve already finished my part of the process ahead of schedule. So, in my free time, I’m conducting some other alchemical experiments…”

Aufre glanced at the cluttered materials on the workbench and asked irritably, “Are you making some useless trinkets again? These ordinary materials have no magical properties. You can’t get an alchemical reaction out of them no matter what you do.”

Chris was an apprentice he had taken on a few years ago and was now the youngest official alchemist in the workshop. Aufre had admired his focus and talent, and had initially nurtured him carefully, keeping him by his side to observe and learn.

But who would have known that the young man’s thinking was so erratic? He was constantly coming up with fantastical ideas, refusing to follow the theoretical knowledge he was taught and advance through the proper steps.

Last year, he had somehow gotten his hands on a rather expensive product from the market—something called soap. It was a bathing item for nobles and wealthy merchants, quite popular in high society. Its production workshop was said to be in Oland, and its formula was a closely guarded secret.

After obtaining a finished piece, Chris quickly cracked the utterly unchallenged soap formula and reported his results with glee. But Aufre didn’t praise him. Instead, he sternly warned him not to get engrossed in these obscure, folk alchemy tricks.

Chris smiled and handed his mentor a small crystal vial containing a pale golden liquid. “Mentor, this was inspired by the soap-making process…”

Aufre frowned, uncorked the vial, and brought it to his nose. A delicate, not-at-all-pungent fragrance drifted into his nostrils. “Isn’t this… perfume? A favorite of noble ladies and wealthy merchants’ wives. A tiny bottle can sell for the high price of several gold pounds.”

The formula for perfume had been around for a long time. It was made by distilling aromatic essential oils from fragrant plants and blending them with hydrosols. It was an ordinary alchemical product with an exceptionally simple production process, nothing special.

Aufre rolled his eyes, too weary to get angry with his disciple. “Chris, is something that those low-end alchemy workshops invented long ago really worth your time and effort to reinvent?”

But Chris just grinned and explained, “Mentor, haven’t you noticed anything strange about this perfume? I added materials rich in magical substances. Um… they were alchemical plants originally used to nourish the soul and restore mental energy. When blended into ordinary perfume, they can soothe emotions and alleviate anxiety and anger…”

He pointed at the bottle Aufre had just sniffed and added in a low voice, “If it were any other time, you would have yelled at me and given me a stern lecture. But after smelling this perfume, you’re still calm and composed, and you haven’t lost your temper with me. That’s proof enough that it works…”

Aufre froze on the spot, the vial still in his hand.

Chapter 155: The New Age of Alchemy (Part 2)

“Adding magic potion ingredients rich in magical substances to alchemical products meant for commoners?” Ofre’s eyes went wide as he asked in disbelief, “How dare you? Don’t you know this is prohibited?”

His shout made every other alchemist in the refining chamber look up, staring blankly in his direction.

Ofre quickly uncorked the crystal vial again, brought it to his nose, and took a deep breath. The elegant, fragrant aroma instantly made him feel at ease, and the fire in his chest felt as if it had been doused by a cool, sweet rain.

“Tell me the truth! You haven’t let the formula for this magical perfume get out, have you?”

Chris was startled as well. He stammered, “Of course not, mentor. I only successfully concocted this three days ago…”

“Besides, I never intended for this to be used by commoners. I believe its true purpose, its true meaning and value, lies in improving the quality of life for spellcasters and alchemists.”

Ofre was speechless. “Sell perfume to those old-fashioned spellcasters who subsist on water and bread? Get them to embrace the nobles’ fondness for powders and perfumes? That’s utterly preposterous.”

He chided Chris for a few more moments, telling him to focus his attention on the production of the alchemical armor commissioned for a certain duke’s bloodline knights. Then, he smoothly slipped the bottle of magical perfume into his own pocket and slowly left the refining chamber.

…

By the time Ofre had finished his inspection of the family’s Alchemy Workshop, dealt with a few tricky matters concerning the procurement of materials, and returned home, the sky had grown completely dark. His twin brother, Ed, arrived home at almost the same time.

The two of them rarely focused on the same task simultaneously, always splitting up to ensure efficiency. When one needed to handle official business with the Federation and the Esoteric Society, the other would be responsible for overseeing the family’s internal industries.

After a simple dinner, the two brothers tacitly entered their private alchemy laboratory at home, beginning the only research work of the day that required them both.

“That boy Chris gave me a little surprise at the family workshop today…” Ofre took the small crystal vial of magical perfume from his pocket and handed it to Ed.

Ed, whose sense of smell had been enhanced through a special magical ritual, was clearly much more sensitive than his brother. He uncorked the bottle, brought it to his nose for a sniff, and chuckled. “Heh, that kid is at it again with these useless things. Mixing the extract of soul-condensing flower bulbs with essence pressed from ordinary petals… it can’t be consumed as an energy potion, and it violates the Federation’s regulations—no magical substances can be added to alchemical items made for commoners.”

“He said this thing is meant to improve the quality of life for spellcasters and alchemists,” Ofre snorted. “What a fanciful fool…”

Ed, however, wasn’t angry. Instead, he sighed with a tinge of regret. “Chris’s audacious personality and his unrestrained imagination should have made him the perfect candidate for special training, for him to later join our… Life Alchemy experiment project. But unfortunately…唉, his interests always lie in tinkering with these useless, prank-like creations.”

Ofre stared at the exquisite crystal vial and said in a low voice, “The other alchemists at the family workshop have complained to me more than once that Chris is wasting precious magical materials on his private alchemy experiments… You know, the refining chamber only has room for twelve official alchemists, and those old folks in the family have long wanted to squeeze their own descendants in.”

“Move him to the Esoteric Society’s official workshop? He’d cause trouble sooner or later. I’m afraid he wouldn’t even be able to keep his alchemist’s robes then…”

The two of them sighed in unison, then ended the conversation with waning interest and began their routine, phased experiment for the day.

Ofre remembered the post he had made on the Spellcaster Forum, seeking a trade for a certain rare magical ingredient. He wondered if anyone had replied in the past day.

He immediately sat down before the “Magic Brain” apparatus, logged in with his forum handle, and clicked open the Information Exchange section to browse.

“Active magical ingredients from a Wyrm-type creature? How could something like that be so easy to find?” Ed put down his work and walked up behind Ofre, muttering, “It’s a fool’s hope just thinking about it. Dragons have been extinct for four or five hundred years. Magical creatures with dragon blood are rarer than Legendary Casters on the Southern Continent.”

The last known magical creature with a trace of the Dragon race’s bloodline was a Giant Dragon-Rhino that lived in the Hussar Kingdom of Isengard. It was later hunted down and killed by high-level casters dispatched by the Federation. Its skeleton is now stored in the treasury of the Celestial Domain, and any usable active magical ingredients from its corpse have likely all been divided up and consumed by the Federation’s inner circle long ago.

Ofre himself didn’t hold out much hope in his search on the Spellcaster Forum. It was just that the constant failures of their Life Alchemy experiments, which remained stalled at a critical research node, had forced him to pin his hopes on finding rarer materials, using external aids to seek a breakthrough in their research.

Suddenly, he saw a familiar member handle flash on the crystal panel. Someone had proactively replied to his request to purchase ingredients.

It was the independent Alchemist whom he and Ed both quite admired—Mr. Kel’Thuzad.

Not long ago, the two of them had gone on a Magic Net roaming expedition with him. Unfortunately, although they had found the lair of a Seven-Colored Wyrm, they had only managed to collect a small amount of bone powder from a Wyrm skeleton that had been dead for a very long time. Such an ingredient lacked active magical properties and was of no help to their experiment.

[Kel’Thuzad: Greetings… both of you… Mr. Man in the Mirror. I saw your purchase request on the Forum.]

Kel’Thuzad was one of the few who knew that the person behind the handle ‘Man in the Mirror’ was, in fact, two twin alchemists. But their relationship was good, so they didn’t need to worry about their identities being exposed and causing unnecessary trouble.

The independent Alchemist had accepted a great deal of unpaid assistance from the Quinn brothers and had always spoken up for them on the Forum. He was considered a friendly peripheral member of their small group.

[Man in the Mirror: It’s been a while, Mr. Kel’Thuzad. Do you happen to have the magical ingredients I need?]

The Quinn brothers believed that he was merely an independent high-level alchemist living under rather harsh conditions. It seemed unlikely that he would personally possess such a rare, active magical ingredient from a Wyrm-type creature. At most, he might know some secret information channels, but that too would be of great help to them.

[Man in the Mirror: If you can provide information and channels to obtain this ingredient, we are also willing to pay a sum of points or other remuneration as a token of our gratitude.]

[Kel’Thuzad: I wanted to ask, could the active magical ingredients from a Wyrm creature you require be substituted with those from other ancient creature races? Heh, this is just a hypothesis of mine. After all, the magical properties contained within the bodies of different ancient races vary slightly…]

The Quinn brothers glanced at each other in surprised disbelief.

“Besides Wyrms, could he possibly get his hands on active ingredients from Giants, Ancient High Elves, or Abyssal Sea Beasts? Aren’t those creatures probably even rarer than Wyrms?”

[Man in the Mirror: If a special refining and fusion method is used, it is indeed possible to substitute the active ingredients from Wyrm creatures. However… I apologize for being blunt, but aren’t active ingredients from other primordial ancient races even rarer and more uncommon than those of Wyrms? Are you saying you can acquire such materials?]

[Kel’Thuzad: I do have in my possession a sample of concentrated blood from an ancient high-rank Vampire, the kind that has not lost its biological activity. However, the quantity is extremely small. It’s a family heirloom. I was wondering if you might be interested in a trade?]

Chapter 156: Blast Furnace Steelmaking

Between the vast Farm and the mines to the southwest of the territory, a newly built complex of workshops was bustling with activity.

Cart after cart of iron ore, hauled here from the mines by alchemical camel-beasts, was piled into towering mounds in the open-air ore storage area. Then, transported by metal cranes, it was continuously fed into the iron foundry to be smelted into finished iron ingots.

As the iron ore output from the territory’s mines stabilized, Harvey relocated the numerous production factories from the core area of the territory to an outer region, far from the Market District and Residential Area. He officially named this new area the Industrial Zone.

After all, the previous iron foundry and civilian ironworks operated on a three-shift system, producing piercing industrial noise all day long. Pungent, choking smoke and dust from the smelting slag filled the air above the territory, severely affecting Harvey’s daily life and the territory’s air quality.

With a decisive wave of his hand, he had Rainer arrange for the Construction Department to move all production units, except for the magical munitions factory, to the outskirts of the territory, far from his castle and the municipal residential areas.

The original sites, after demolition, were allocated exclusively to Egnor to officially begin building his alchemical botanical garden. The remaining scattered plots were used by the nature-type spellcaster to rapidly catalyze the growth of a large number of air-purifying trees, flowers, and shrubs, turning the former polluting factories into exquisite little street-side gardens.

“Change the cooling water for the alchemical beast! Keep it fanning the furnace!” a factory supervisor in charge of smelting iron ore shouted, directing the workers inside the iron foundry.

Beside the furnace built of cement bricks, a massive alchemical beast lay on the ground. Its huge, dark mouth was aimed at the furnace opening, and it continuously pumped its belly, which was stitched from animal hide, to blow air into the furnace.

A few skilled workers carried buckets of ice water, rapidly chilled by Icy Magic Stones, and poured it into the beast through an intake port on its back. They then pulled a lever on its flank, expelling the excess high-temperature steam from the alchemical beast’s rear.

Although they couldn’t see inside the furnace, the workers continuously added charcoal. Roasted by the intense heat radiating from the furnace, their faces were flushed red. Their light-gray work uniforms were soaked with sweat, dried, and then soaked again, leaving large patches of white, crystalline salt stains.

“Boss! The iron ore has melted! I can see the molten iron churning inside the furnace!” a worker standing on top of the furnace, responsible for observing its interior, reported to the supervisor.

“Quick! Open the slag tap at the bottom.”

Several workers stationed by the furnace immediately used long iron hooks to pull open the iron grate behind it, allowing the slag that had collected in a special groove to flow out through the slag tap.

This slag waste couldn’t be discarded carelessly. It had to be cooled with water, then hauled by alchemical camel-beasts to a material yard. The people from the Construction Department would naturally arrange for its transport. According to them, it was excellent material for paving roads and building foundations.

The workers at the iron foundry privately nicknamed the folks from the Construction Department, who were always covered in dust, the “Gray Donkeys.”

Whether it was cement powder from the cement factory, fine slag from the iron foundry, or even sand and soil dug up from the riverbank at the wharf construction site, they took it all without refusal. It was as if anything resembling dust was a treasure to them.

Following the supervisor’s orders, the workers intermittently opened the slag tap several more times. The observer reported that all the molten iron had settled to the bottom of the furnace and collected in its designated groove. All that was left was to open the iron tap, let the molten iron flow into special cast-iron molds to cool, and they would have freshly produced iron ingots.

The factory supervisor wiped the greasy sweat from his face. His production quota for the morning shift had been met.

“Alright! Everyone, shut down the alchemical beast and let it cool. Follow safety procedures and watch out for the high-temperature steam!”

“Also, go change into clean work clothes later. And wash your filthy faces properly. I’ve been notified that those Gray Donkeys from the Construction Department might be coming to the Industrial Zone this afternoon to survey. Don’t you dare embarrass our Industrial Department by looking so grimy…”

Haru was the luckiest and sharpest of the first batch of refugees from the barren lands to join the territory.

Although he had been crippled in one leg by the vile orcs during his enslavement, his skills as a stonemason had saved his life. Instead of being butchered as two-legged rations, the vile orcs had kept him around to build their camps and dig their cooking pits.

After being rescued by Lord Pierce, he joined my lord Harvey’s territory. He quickly completed the basic literacy education provided by Mr. Astaren and became the first refugee from the barren lands in the territory who could read and write fluently.

This past year or so of living in the territory had been a hundred times happier than the first thirty years of his life combined.

My lord Harvey had given him the opportunity to earn food and a salary through his labor. After building the first batch of houses, Haru had gotten his wish: a two-story house of his own.

Moreover, because he was skilled in stonemasonry, the Lord had recruited him into the Municipal Center. He became a territory official with a fixed monthly salary and a high subsidy, and not just any official—he was the supervising official in charge of the Construction Department!

He was naturally moved to tears with gratitude for the Lord. He diligently continued his construction work in the territory, leading the ever-growing number of residents and the technical staff of the Construction Department to build the pioneer territories, bit by bit, into what they were today, ensuring both quality and quantity.

The Lord’s Castle, the residential communities, the City Hall building, the Public Market…

When the towering city wall, stretching for tens of kilometers around the territory, was officially completed, the Lord himself had pinned an exquisite badge of cast black iron to his chest. Patting his shoulder, the Lord praised him as a cornerstone of the pioneer territories’ construction and an outstanding pioneer in the territory’s development.

Everyone standing on the new city wall had applauded and cheered wildly for him. My lord Harvey had smiled and supported him as he cried so hard he nearly collapsed. The scene was etched into his memory forever.

Later, the City Hall directly awarded him a house, so he no longer had to save up money to buy the property rights to a rented home.

After working for fifteen years, he could stop working and just rest at home, yet still receive a hefty monthly allowance. Lord Rainer said it was called a pension, and he could receive it until the day he died.

What was the difference between such a luxurious life and entering the paradise of the gods?

“Director? Director!” His deputy gently tugged at Haru’s sleeve, interrupting his beautiful daydream about retirement and snapping his attention back to the real world.

Indeed, the Lord had just given him a new construction task, one that required him to cooperate with the people from the Industrial Department.

He carefully held up the architectural blueprint the Lord had given him. Drawn on it was a… tall tower.

The dimensions marked on the tower’s body indicated a height of nearly seven meters, several times taller than the furnaces he had previously built for the Industrial Department. The tower was tapered, thinner at the top and wider at the bottom, with a minimum internal diameter of two and a half meters. If it wasn’t built with cement-mixed stone bricks, it would easily collapse. It also required a support system at the base, built with cast iron, to connect the tower to its foundation.

At the bottom of the tower was a ring of circular vents, shaped to allow an alchemical beast to pump air into the tower.

There was another set of blueprints for facilities to accompany the tower: plans for an ore transport system powered by alchemical beasts, a transport line complete with tracks and special mine carts.

“This tall tower… no, this is a furnace tower!” Haru flipped to the last page of the blueprints and saw the title written in the Lord’s own hand: Blast Furnace Design for Steelmaking.

His mission was to build six of these magnificent furnace towers in the Industrial Zone, along with all the supporting facilities and equipment.

“This is a test from the Lord!” Haru rolled up the blueprints. Facing his subordinates, he pumped his fist a few times. “Let’s go! We’re heading to the Industrial Zone now to survey construction sites. Let’s show those fire-stokers from the Industrial Department what we’re made of!”

Chapter 157: Trading Blood for a Man

When the young family alchemist, Chris Byrd, was summoned alone to the home of his two twin mentors, a bad feeling washed over him.

In the six years since Mentor Ofre had singled him out from a group of alchemy apprentices to personally guide his formal study of alchemy, he had yet to complete a single improved formula that could truly pass the Esoteric Society’s review.

Whether it was researching how to perform magic infusion on alchemical bodies and alchemical weapons, or concocting alchemical potions to strengthen Spellcasters and bloodline knights, Chris had no issues with his technique or execution. He simply wasn’t interested.

He had once tried to transform alchemical bombs filled with corrosive acid into alchemical fireworks that could light up the sky in broad daylight. He had also personally fitted disabled stray animals with alchemical prosthetic limbs in an attempt to give them a new life—unfortunately, the rejection reaction between flesh and blood and the alchemical constructs was too severe, and none of the modified animals survived.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t secretly conducted some alchemy experiments that violated the Federation’s prohibitions before, but fortunately, they weren’t very harmful, and his mentors had quietly covered them up for him. However, this recent incident of adding magical substances to everyday items for commoners seemed to have greatly bothered Mentor Ofre. It looked like he had been summoned today to be punished.

“Mentor Ofre, Mentor Ed, I’m here…” Chris greeted his two teachers cautiously, suppressing the unease in his heart.

Ofre’s tone was exceptionally gentle, showing no sign of anything unusual. “Chris, come over here…”

Ed went a step further, rising to his feet and pressing the young student down onto the sofa opposite them. He grinned and said, “What are you so scared for? It’s not like we’re going to eat you.”

Chris shifted on the soft sofa cushions before asking hesitantly, “Mentors, is this about that alchemical perfume incident from a few days ago?”

Ofre shook his head with a smile. “Of course not. We called you here today to discuss something with you, a matter concerning your future and your power…”

Ed got straight to the point. “Chris, if you had the opportunity to possess an alchemy laboratory that was completely your own, one equipped with the most comprehensive facilities and equipment, and even had a corresponding alchemy workshop to guarantee mass-production… what would you think?”

Chris was stunned. He asked in disbelief, “Me? An alchemy laboratory? With its own supporting workshop? Mentors, have you been drinking today? What nonsense are you talking about?”

Ofre released a Mage Hand through the air, giving his tactless student a light rap on the head. He said, feigning anger, “I think you’re the one talking nonsense! We’re serious. And this alchemy laboratory, exclusively yours, will allow you to conduct any experimental concept you wish to realize, completely without scruples, without worrying about violations or taboos.”

He exchanged a look with Ed and decided to lay all the conditions on the table. “An independent alchemist who is on good terms with us… a high-rank Mr. Alchemist, is looking for an official Alchemist who can work closely with him, in service of a great personage he works for.”

“And while this great personage’s identity must remain confidential for now, we can confirm that he possesses a vast territory of his own. He wants to build an alchemy laboratory within his lands, which is why he contacted us for a recommendation…”

“A brand-new… alchemy laboratory… with the most advanced alchemy equipment… and a supporting workshop.” Chris muttered, repeating the words. “And I’d be fully in charge… free to complete my experiments… without any restrictions…”

He shot to his feet, waving his fists in excitement. He said impatiently, “Mentors, I’ll do it! I am willing to cooperate with that Mr. Alchemist and serve that great personage!”

Ed gave a wry smile and pressed the emotional Chris back down onto the sofa, handing him a Magical Contract.

“Favorable conditions and generous rewards always come at a price… If they formally hire you, you’ll need to sign a confidentiality-level Magical Contract. It requires you to work for them for five years without pay. During this period, you must maintain complete secrecy regarding all experimental content and their identities, without leaking a single detail…”

Ofre added, “I can assure you that their intentions are absolutely benevolent and pose no threat to your personal safety. However, this period of unpaid work is not short, and the ownership of all experimental results and formulas will belong to that great personage. You should consider it carefully…”

Chris quickly scanned the contents of the contract. He found that although it was five years of unpaid work, the other party would provide him with housing befitting his status and all his living necessities. If there were any breakthrough experimental developments, he would be given a reward depending on the situation. These terms were even more generous than those at the Quinn family’s Alchemy Workshop.

As for the absolute secrecy clause and the ownership of experimental results, Chris found it completely reasonable. All his current work and research formulas were also beyond his control, with ownership held firmly by the family, and he lacked the authority to freely initiate experimental projects.

“I’ll do it! I agree to all the terms of the contract. Mentors, where is this great personage’s laboratory located? When can I set out?”

“Not so fast. Calm down first. The specific location is also confidential. If you choose to sign the contract, you can depart for Da’ers in three days with a group of apprentices I’ve selected for you. There will be people there responsible for receiving you, and they will arrange for your final journey to the great personage’s territory…”

Watching Chris leave excitedly, clutching the contract, the Quinn brothers exchanged a look and breathed a long sigh of relief in unison.

“So we just… sold Chris… for a single vial of concentrated blood from an ancient high-rank Vampire.” Ofre could faintly feel his conscience being tormented.

Ed scratched his head awkwardly, as if consoling his brother, and perhaps himself. “You can’t really say we sold Chris… After all, having his own alchemy laboratory has always been his biggest dream. And he can finally conduct those wildly imaginative experiments of his without any constraints or restrictions…”

The terms of the deal with Mr. Kel’Thuzad were one official Alchemist, personally trained by the Quinn brothers, with solid theoretical and practical experience, as well as fifteen alchemy apprentices under the age of twenty with some experience.

All of them were required to sign a secret Magical Contract and would have their personal freedom restricted to some extent during the contractually stipulated work period. However, the other party would fully guarantee their safety and daily living needs.

“This Mr. Kel’Thuzad’s sponsor for his alchemy experiments… that mysterious great personage must have some grand ambitions!” Ed guessed. “I suspect that this independent alchemist’s current research direction, which is similar to ours, also comes at the behest of that great personage…”

A Life Alchemy experiment that bestows souls upon inanimate objects was not something that an ordinary great lord, noble, or even the royalty of some minor secular kingdom had the power or wealth to support.

“I just hope Chris doesn’t get sent back for being too eccentric shortly after he arrives…”

Chapter 158: First Sighting of the Demons

Vaughn sprinted through the dense primeval forest, his long legs easily navigating the countless natural obstacles.

After activating his bloodline talent, the long-distance forced marches that he once found agonizing were now as effortless as a leisurely stroll after dinner.

He heard the sound of hurried footsteps behind him. Without even looking back, he knew Dav and Wayne were desperately trying to catch him.

Lifting his head slightly, he saw a wide mountain ravine blocking their path not far ahead. Vaughn took a deep breath, puffing out his chest, and with a powerful push from his feet, leaped several meters into the air, grabbing a thick vine hanging from a giant tree above.

He twisted his torso unnaturally in mid-air, kicking off a tree trunk in a move that defied logic. The rebound sent him swinging across the ravine, landing in the undergrowth on the opposite side.

“Damn it! He got away again!” Dav braked abruptly, stopping his mad dash at the edge of the ravine. He watched the rustling in the bushes on the other side gradually fade into the distance and cursed loudly.

This was their weekly “simulated pursuit training.”

A total of thirty Bloodline Warriors who had completed their talent awakening would be divided into two squads, taking on the roles of “hunters” and “prey” in a cat-and-mouse hunting game within the vast primeval forests surrounding the pioneer territories.

This was a practical combat training plan personally designed by Lord Harvey for these extraordinary soldiers. Aside from being forbidden from using lethal Magical Energy Guns and sharp blades, everyone was free to use the special abilities granted by their bloodline talents and employ any means necessary to complete their objective of either escaping or capturing their target.

The Bloodline Warriors assigned the role of “prey” would set out half a day earlier than the hunters. They had an unspoken agreement to split up and hide or flee individually rather than moving as a group. This was the best way to divide the hunters’ attention and drain their time.

Vaughn was always prioritized as a hunting target—because his talent was absolutely lethal, he was specifically forbidden from using his ability during training. He could only rely on the physical enhancements provided by his bloodline talent.

The half-orc had lived in the vast, dense forests of the Northern Barren Lands since childhood and was a born hunter. Therefore, even without using his talent, Vaughn repeatedly evaded the pursuit squad led by Dav and Wayne, relying on his rich experience and quick mind.

Hearing the furious shouts of his close comrades from across the ravine, Vaughn couldn’t help but chuckle softly. The three-day practical training was already two days in. As long as he wasn’t surrounded, he would pass perfectly after tonight.

Next, he needed to find a natural shelter that could offer some protection from the elements, get through the night with its drastic temperature drop, and then return to the territory at sunrise.

Vaughn leaped into the canopy of a tall tree to reconfirm his current position. He realized that the all-night chase had unintentionally pushed him to a mountain hollow extremely far from the territory. Looking southeast, he could already see the edge of Greenwater Marsh in the distance.

It seemed he would have to set out early in the latter half of the night. Otherwise, with such a long way to go, he might not make it back for the afternoon assembly tomorrow and would miss the luxurious, nutritious feast in the barracks specially prepared for Bloodline Warriors.

Recalling the golden, crispy Fried pork cutlet, the half-orc couldn’t help but gulp, his mouth watering. He scrambled down from the treetop and considered whether he should catch a couple of fat wild rabbits to make do for dinner.

According to the requirements of the practical exercise, besides completing the tasks of pursuit and evasion, they also had to learn bare-handed survival skills in the primeval jungle—making weapons, identifying natural medicines, building temporary shelters, obtaining food, practicing the application of their bloodline abilities…

Vaughn pulled a sling, reinforced with vines, from his waist and selected a few suitably sized pebbles. He prepared to hunt in the area down the hollow near the marsh, where the view was more open, making it easier to spot small animals hiding in the bushes and grass.

“If I could bring the special equipment my lord Harvey made for me, I wouldn’t need to hide like this. Dav and his men wouldn’t even be an appetizer…” Vaughn grumbled under his breath and slowly crept towards the marsh.

…

A flock of plump pheasants emerged from the undergrowth, clucking as they gathered at the edge of the marsh to forage for wild fruit. Greenwater Marsh was home to an abundance of delicious mushrooms and fresh berries, so beloved by wild animals that even civilians from the pioneer territories would travel far and wide to come and gather them, always returning home laden with nature’s bounty.

Vaughn lay prone on a grassy knoll a dozen meters away, using the dense wild grass to conceal himself. He carefully controlled his breathing, waiting only for the flock of pheasants to get a little closer before he could let his sling-stone fly.

Suddenly, a strange sound came from deep within the marsh. Vaughn, who was just about to rise and throw his stone, felt a chill and dropped back to the ground, squinting towards the marsh.

“What’s that noise? Could it be residents from the territory sneaking over to gather food again? Didn’t my lord strictly forbid anyone from approaching the marsh during this time?” Vaughn knew there were always some people who couldn’t resist the delicious food in the marsh. Driven by a craving for a tasty meal or the income from selling wild game, they were willing to risk slipping over here at night.

But the noise grew louder and louder, completely unlike anything an ordinary person could make. He didn’t dare reveal himself or make a rash move.

The startled pheasants flapped their wings and flew up into the treetops, letting out clucking calls of warning.

The next moment, a group of enormous beasts, their size comparable to the pack beasts of the barren lands, burst out of the marsh, panting heavily and roaring. Their massive limbs stomped on the ground, causing tremors, and the thundering sound sent the surrounding birds and beasts fleeing in a frenzy.

Vaughn lifted his head slightly and was immediately horrified to see that on the back of each giant beast rode a tall, burly, crimson-skinned humanoid.

These humanoids were conversing with each other in a strange, guttural non-human language that Vaughn couldn’t understand a word of. But when he saw their bodies were covered in natural scales that reflected strange patterns in the sunlight, he knew: these strange people were the Demons that Lord Harvey and Mr. Astaren had spoken of!

The Demons had silently infiltrated the vicinity of Greenwater Marsh, less than a three-day march from the territory!

Had they really set up a camp at that natural ore vein? Why hadn’t the Defense Force sentinels responsible for monitoring their movements discovered them sooner?

Vaughn estimated there were about a dozen demon soldiers riding the giant beasts. But he firmly remembered what Mr. Astaren had repeatedly emphasized to them in theory class—if you encounter demon soldiers riding demonic beasts alone, absolutely do not initiate an attack.

Besides, he didn’t have his greatest weapon, the Magical Energy Gun. With only his body enhanced by his bloodline talent, there was no way he could face off against a dozen or so demon cavalrymen, each over two meters tall and accompanied by a demonic beast.

The troop of demon cavalry galloped past, almost brushing against the grassy knoll where Vaughn was hiding. His heart pounded uncontrollably with tension, and each second felt like a year.

He slowly propped himself up with his hands and shifted backward slightly, trying to bury himself deeper in the grass. Unfortunately, he pressed down on a dry twig underneath him, which made a faint cracking sound.

A demon soldier at the very rear of the troop immediately whipped his head around, looking alertly in Vaughn’s direction.

Vaughn subconsciously raised his head, his eyes meeting the soldier’s blood-red ones.

Not good! I’ve been spotted!

Chapter 159: Bloodline Warrior vs. Demon Soldier

Vaughn shot up from the meadow and, without a second glance, plunged directly into the Greenwater Marsh.

Even with his bloodline-enhanced speed, Vaughn knew he couldn’t outrun the Demon cavalryman’s four-legged beast on foot. His only hope was that his pursuer was unfamiliar with the swamp’s terrain and would be trapped by the soft, rotting mire, giving him a slim chance of escape.

Vaughn himself was very familiar with the Greenwater Marsh. He knew the general location of the waist-deep mire and the bottomless pits that devoured man and beast, and he could carefully avoid these terrible natural traps even while running at high speed.

But the heavy panting growing closer from behind told him clearly that the Demon soldier chasing him single-handedly was no fool.

He followed Vaughn’s path perfectly, sticking to his target without deviation, refusing to be lured into the traps Vaughn had set along his escape route.

Vaughn dove into a thicket, barely dodging a blazing fireball the size of a human head. It was spat from the mouth of the Demon soldier’s demonic beast. These beasts, like human spellcasters, could intermittently unleash simple but powerful magical attacks.

A searing pain spread across his back; he must have been grazed by the fireball, burning his skin.

Vaughn pushed himself up from the ground, grabbed a sharp rock, and turned to face the approaching Demon soldier.

He had been forced to the edge of a pool deep within the marsh. Vaughn knew full well that this pool was teeming with Giant Rotmarsh Crocodiles; any living creature that fell in was fated to be devoured by them.

Since there was no escape, it would have to be a one-on-one fight to the death!

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his breathing as he gathered his bloodline power. As the Demon and his giant beast charged at him, Vaughn executed a quick sideward roll and, aiming for the demonic beast’s flank, threw a powerful punch.

In that same instant, the Demon soldier swung his gleaming blade. It sliced across Vaughn’s right shoulder, sending a spray of crimson blood into the air.

The demonic beast let out a deafening wail. A huge cavity suddenly caved into its flank, revealing pale ribs and a bloody mess of internal organs. The intense agony sent it into a violent struggle, throwing the Demon soldier from its back.

Vaughn scooped up a handful of mud and smeared it on the wound on his shoulder, which was so deep the bone was visible. The gushing blood washed much of the mud away. He flexed the muscles in his shoulder, forcing the wound to close—this was a unique talent of Bloodline Warriors. Even without an awakened healing ability, they could temporarily prevent excessive blood loss from incapacitating them in a fight.

The Demon soldier adjusted his posture the moment he hit the ground. He gripped his sword with both hands and charged straight at Vaughn, forcing Vaughn to once again roll away pathetically. He had no weapon to parry the enemy’s blade, so he could only hurl the rock in his hand, striking the sword’s blade and nearly knocking the weapon from the soldier’s grasp.

In the close-quarters combat, Vaughn finally got a clear look at the true appearance of this Demon soldier, who wore an iron helmet and a pauldron that left the left side of his chest exposed.

Their faces were not grotesque and deformed like the vile orcs’, which resembled humanoid beasts. Aside from their deep red skin, scales, and crimson eyes, their other features were more akin to humans.

Of course, their height of over two meters was something ordinary humans could never achieve. Even Vaughn, a half-orc, was a full head shorter than his opponent.

The Demon soldier, who had nearly lost his weapon, grunted heavily. He tightened his grip on his longsword and swung it in a wide arc toward Vaughn’s waist. Vaughn could only retreat again, clumsily dodging the powerful blow.

This isn’t working! I can’t fight this guy without a weapon. I have to find a way to get close to him, or my bloodline power will be useless.

As Vaughn dodged the enemy’s relentless attacks, he desperately thought of a way to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. Several wounds, large and small, gradually appeared on his body, and blood constantly seeped out, dripping onto the muddy ground.

When the Demon lunged with another quick thrust of his sword, Vaughn no longer relied on his agility to dodge. Instead, he simply shifted his body slightly to protect his throat, allowing the sword to plunge straight into his shoulder. With a sickening squelch, it pierced through him, pinning him to the tree trunk behind.

The momentum of the thrust carried the Demon soldier forward, and the two came face-to-face.

At that moment, Vaughn’s fists, clenched and fast as lightning, struck the soldier’s ribs. The blow sent the Demon soldier staggering backward and toppling over. When he tried to get up, he suddenly clutched his sides and fell back to the ground, howling in agony.

Vaughn’s bloodshot eyes were blurry, but he could still see the Demon soldier writhing on the ground. A large amount of blood spurted from his sides, and bloody intestines and other organs spilled out from the gaping holes in his waist. He tried to staunch the wounds with his hands to keep his insides from falling out, but it was useless.

After struggling for half a minute, the Demon soldier finally stopped moving, gasping his last painful breath.

Only then did Vaughn manage to raise a hand and pull the blade from his shoulder. He walked over, lopped off the soldier’s head with a single swing, and, carrying it by the metal helmet, headed toward the dying demonic beast with its ruptured abdomen.

The demonic beast’s entrails were also spilled all over the ground. The thick scent of blood filled the air around the pool, causing the giant crocodiles in the water to surface one by one, agitated, and converge on the spot.

Vaughn quickly flexed his muscles, forcing the worst of the bleeding from both shoulders to stop. Luckily, his legs were not severely injured. He could definitely make it back to the territory to report the encounter with the Demons to his Lord and Commander Pierce.

The Greenwater Marsh was only a day’s journey from the territory. If he ran at full speed regardless of his injuries, he could make it back in half a day at most. He would surely be in time to allow the Defense Force to set up their defenses, preventing them from being caught off guard by the Demon soldiers appearing nearby.

…

As dusk approached, Vaughn, who had been running nonstop at high speed, felt his wounds tear open uncontrollably. Blood dripped along his path, and waves of dizziness from the blood loss washed over him, making it difficult to control his body as he ran. Several times, he nearly stumbled and fell.

Keep going! Just a little longer!

Gritting his teeth, Vaughn fought back the coppery taste of blood rising in his throat and kept running without pause. He could already faintly see the towering furnaces in the territory, and the thick smoke billowing from them.

Almost there! He felt the tension that had gripped his mind for so long finally begin to ease.

Suddenly, a figure leaped out from the bushes at his side. In his current state, Vaughn lacked his usual reflexes. The surprise attack knocked him to the ground, and he nearly passed out.

“Haha! I knew I’d catch some prey trying to sneak back to the territory early! Huh?” Quick-witted one’s ecstatic voice stopped abruptly. “Vaughn! Is that you? You… How did you get hurt so badly? Damn it, who could have done this to you?”

Vaughn coughed up a mouthful of bloody foam and managed a weak glare. From the makeshift bag on his back fashioned from his shirt, he pulled out a gruesome, deep-red head. “Quick!” he urged Tommy in a hoarse voice. “Get back to the territory! Report to the Lord and Commander Pierce… Demons… in the Greenwater Marsh… I ran into a squadron of Demon cavalry!”

Chapter 160: Territory Defense Level One Alert

Harvey was inspecting the territory’s Mining Area when he suddenly received an urgent message from Astaren.

By the time he rode an alchemical beast back to the castle, Egnor had already finished treating Vaughn’s injuries and had given him a potion that sent him into a deep sleep.

“What happened? Where did they run into Demon cavalry?”

Tommy, the one who first found Vaughn, knelt on one knee and reported the news to Harvey in detail: “My lord, I found Vaughn in the woods outside the eastern gate’s wall. He said a squad of Demon soldiers appeared near Greenwater Marsh… I-I examined his wounds. They were indeed caused by a sharp blade, and there’s this head…”

Harvey turned to look at the table Tommy was pointing to. He pulled away the bloodstained, tattered cloth, revealing a sinister head with deep red skin.

Crimson eyes, red skin, and fine scales covering its forehead…

These were indeed the most typical features of a Demon.

“Didn’t the prospecting team initially report that these creatures were suspected to be at the Mining Area on the edge of the marsh? How could they…”

The Mining Area discovered by the prospecting team was located on the eastern edge of the entire barren marsh. To reach Greenwater Marsh, the closest point to the territory, they would have to cross the entire festering marsh, a journey of about three days.

This meant that the Demons weren’t just holed up at the mineral vein; they were constantly expanding outward, using small cavalry squads to rapidly scout the surrounding area.

“Are they… searching for something?” Astaren, who had once lived deep within the ice fields, was the most knowledgeable about the Demons among them.

But even he couldn’t figure out why a contingent of Demon soldiers would be able to cross the vast ice fields, slip through the dense and massive vile orc tribes of the barren lands, and sneak into the barren marshlands north of the Spine of the Continent Mountains.

Harvey, however, didn’t want to overthink it. He decisively issued an order to Pierce, “Have the Territory Defense Army raise the alert level to one, but don’t sound the alarms. Avoid causing panic and chaos among the people…”

“Have the Northern Army stationed in the camp assemble immediately. They will advance toward Greenwater Marsh in combat battalions, conducting a sweeping search. It is imperative that they find that Demon cavalry squad that has infiltrated the area near our territory and annihilate every last one of them!”

Not a single one of them could be allowed to escape and return to their main camp at the natural mineral vein to sound a warning.

Harvey wasn’t sure if his territory’s location had already been detected by the Demons. The previous plan to wait for the Bloodline Warriors to complete their training and launch a surprise attack—taking advantage of the enemy being exposed while they remained hidden—was no longer suitable.

In that case, it was better to launch a direct frontal assault. They would line up and use the overwhelming firepower of their Magical Energy Guns to wipe out the Demons holed up at the mineral vein in one fell swoop.

Just after nightfall, the Defense Force headquarters suddenly received an urgent order from the territory’s supreme commander: Suspected non-human invasion. Initiate Level One Defense Alert!

All soldiers not assigned to wall guard duty or patrol shifts quickly geared up, assembled, and ascended to the sections of the wall their squads were responsible for. They then rapidly formed combat teams according to their unit structure and entered the defensive bastions built every few hundred meters along the wall.

The pioneer territory’s wall was a terrifying ten kilometers long. Even if all two thousand soldiers of the Defense Force were crammed onto it, there was no way to guarantee every section would be manned.

This was where the Northern Army stationed in the territory came in. They were responsible for proactively assembling combat forces and striking out in the primary direction of the enemy’s approach.

“Battalion commander, this Level One Alert tonight… it isn’t another large-scale drill, is it?” a captain in charge of a western section of the wall sidled up to the First Battalion’s commander and muttered.

After all, everyone knew that the Northern Army’s daily training consisted of field exercises, while the Defense Force’s consisted of drills…

Ever since the military restructuring split the army in two, the soldiers assigned to the Defense Force had gone through numerous large-scale, full-force defensive drills.

But this was the first time they’d had a defensive drill at Level One Alert. This meant that after the alarm sounded, they would have to man the walls, fully armed with live ammunition, and maintain a state of high alert for a full seventy-two hours.

The commander of the Defense Force’s First Battalion shot his captain a sideways glance and gestured for him to look down from the bastion’s observation window. He saw that at some point, the western gate had suddenly swung open. A large contingent of Northern Army soldiers in black uniforms was pouring out from the territory in formation. They assembled quickly outside the gate before breaking off into combat teams and entering the dark, dense woods, rapidly disappearing into the night.

“They… is this… a night-time field exercise? Or… is this for real?”

The Defense Force’s battalion commander, standing on the five-meter-high wall, gritted his teeth and slammed a fist onto the bricks. “Those bastards from the Northern Army! They’ve snagged another chance to fight out there and earn merits and achievements, hmph!”

A messenger came sprinting along the wall, bursting into the western bastion, and reported breathlessly to the battalion commander: “Report! Commander, the Lord will be ascending the wall momentarily to inspect the defensive fortifications of the western section! Commander Pierce orders you to make all preparations and not to relax in the slightest!”

The previously dejected First Battalion commander shot up as if he’d been given a shot of adrenaline. He grabbed the messenger and yelled, “The Lord is coming? This… this isn’t a drill? Is there really an enemy invasion?”

The messenger struggled free, walked over to a horn-shaped alchemical instrument inside the bastion, and inserted a recording magic stone from his pouch. After a burst of static, Lord Harvey’s calm and composed voice slowly rang out.

“Soldiers of the Defense Force! Your attention, please… This is your lord, Harvey… crackle… Sentinels have discovered traces of Demon cavalry in Greenwater Marsh… crackle… The territory’s defense alarm has been triggered. I demand… the entire army enter a Level One Alert state! I repeat… this is not a drill! This is not a drill!”

A non-human invasion! And it was the Demons, the most vicious and cruel race in the Northern Barren Lands!

The officers of all ranks in the western wall’s bastions immediately became a hundred times more alert. Amidst the battalion commander’s hoarse roars, they sprinted to the sections of the wall they were responsible for, rapidly passing down the Lord’s verbal order.

The western section of the wall, approximately three kilometers long, had a massive Main Keep built at the western gate.

The high-ranking officers of the Defense Force gathered there with mixed feelings, fiercely discussing the detailed defensive map of the territory’s walls. Everyone’s emotions were exceptionally complicated.

They didn’t know whether to hope that the Demons would actually break through the Northern Army’s proactive counter-attack line and reach the territory’s walls, giving the Defense Force a chance to prove its worth.

Or if they should pray that those arrogant bastards from the Northern Army were truly as fierce as tigers and could annihilate the non-human invaders beyond the territory’s borders.

The bloody, sinister Demon head, which Vaughn had cut off and brought back after killing it, was currently being carried by messengers and passed around the various defensive strongholds of the Defense Force.

“So this is what a Demon looks like. Besides the wrong skin color and red eyes, they’re not that different from us…”

“Look, it was killed by hand and then beheaded. The brave warrior from our army who killed it didn’t even use a Magical Energy Gun to blow its head off…”

Chapter 161: A Raid Under the Cover of Night

“Quick-witted one” Tommy led his combat squad, moving quickly through the dark, dense forest.

A force of over a hundred men, yet not a single one spoke a word. Everyone carried heavy equipment and supplies, silently following the soldier in front.

Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the dense woods, casting mottled shadows and making the silent warriors look more like a group of phantoms hidden in the darkness.

Not all soldiers could march and fight in such dim-light conditions, but Captain Tommy was an extraordinary warrior who had awakened a bloodline talent. The ability he happened to awaken was the rather rare “Weakness Insight,” which allowed him to have normal, daytime-like vision even in complete, lightless darkness.

At the same time, in Tommy’s squad, there was another team leader who had awakened the “Ice Bloodline,” and his night vision was also excellent thanks to the bloodline modification.

Therefore, his squad was fortunate enough to be chosen as the vanguard for the entire operation against the Demons, responsible for advancing at the very front of all ten combat squads.

Tommy’s talent didn’t need to be constantly activated for him to clearly see, hundreds of meters away, a large flock of birds resting quietly in the canopy of a tree. He could even make out their flame-like scarlet feathers, which were shimmering faintly under the moonlight.

There were clearly no signs of enemy activity nearby; the small birds and beasts that had long lived in the primeval forest were the best natural alarm system.

Tommy led the squad forward a bit further before suddenly raising a hand to signal a halt, letting all the soldiers immediately crouch and await orders. A soldier of half-orc descent nimbly climbed to the top of a large tree, then slipped down quietly to report to Tommy.

“Captain, we’ve reached the edge of Greenwater Marsh.” The soldier didn’t possess Tommy’s extraordinary night vision, but he could faintly see the dots of fire on the flat meadow at the marsh’s edge. “I saw firelight at the bottom of the slope. Someone must be camped there. It’s too far…”

Tommy nodded and climbed onto a boulder himself to get a look. Channeling his bloodline power into his eyes, his vision immediately magnified dozens of times. He clearly saw more than a dozen grayish-black beasts, even larger than pack beasts, lying on the meadow. Seven or eight animal-hide tents were encircled by these massive beasts. A few Demon soldiers, their skin deep red and their eyes crimson, were gathered around a campfire, likely on night watch.

“Nineteen Demonic beasts… nineteen Demon cavalry.” Tommy murmured to himself, “So a Demon cavalry combat squad is a full unit of twenty…”

Before setting out, he had learned from the recovered Vaughn that when he encountered these Demons in Greenwater Marsh, he had been detected from over ten meters away just for making a slight, careless noise.

This meant the Demons’ innate ability was likely an incredibly sharp sense of hearing. Approaching them silently for a close-range ambush would be nearly impossible.

But the new, improved Magical Energy Guns issued to the Northern Army had an effective range of a full five hundred meters. Even though the soldiers’ accuracy would be somewhat limited during night combat, a hundred men using volley fire tactics against twenty meant that two volleys would be enough to achieve suppressive fire.

The problem was, the Demon soldiers huddled in their tents were completely surrounded by these Demonic beasts, which were as large as small hills. This made it impossible for Tommy to set up a formation and snipe them from a distance.

Moreover, Vaughn had warned them that these seemingly clumsy, heavy-bodied Demonic beasts could not only run extremely fast but could also spit terrifying, head-sized fireballs from their mouths. Even a glancing hit would result in severe burns.

“We have to find a way to lure these damn Demonic beasts away… or break their defensive formation.”

After all, without actual combat experience against the Demons, Tommy really couldn’t estimate how much damage the Magical Energy Guns could inflict on the Demon soldiers hiding behind the beasts after penetrating their hides.

…

Tommy’s hundred-man combat squad split into three groups, slowly approaching the meadow at the edge of the marsh from different directions. At a distance of three hundred meters from the Demon camp with its burning campfire, they stopped in unison, then dispersed and concealed themselves.

As captain, Tommy didn’t go down to the bottom of the slope with his men. Instead, he remained prone on a towering boulder halfway up the slope, a full four to five hundred meters from the camp.

Although the position was far, it offered a commanding vantage point, allowing Tommy’s line of sight to pass over the Demonic beasts and precisely lock onto the few Demon cavalrymen guarding the campfire.

The distance wasn’t a significant problem for him. As long as he could see the target, any enemy within his line of sight was nothing more than a living target.

He re-checked the Magical Energy Gun in his hands, ensuring the magazine was fully loaded with ten magic bullets. One was already in a semi-activated state, and the faintly leaking magical energy lit up all the inscriptions on the gun’s body.

Taking a deep breath, Tommy closed his eyes and began to channel the abundant bloodline power within him, gathering it from his strong, beating heart to his eyes. When he opened them again, his originally deep black pupils were now completely bathed in a brilliant silver-white light.

In his infinitely magnified vision, he clearly saw a Demon soldier by the campfire get up to pick up some firewood stacked behind him, apparently wanting to add more fuel to the fire.

“On night watch, yet he’s taken off his armor and helmet, with his weapon tossed carelessly aside.” Tommy narrowed his eyes, sneering inwardly. “You were just asking to be killed.”

Then, he decisively pulled the trigger.

The head of the Demon cavalryman squatting by the fire suddenly exploded. Blood and brain matter splattered everywhere, dousing another of his companions sitting beside him. The remaining three Demon soldiers on night watch froze on the spot, staring with horrified eyes as their comrade’s headless body swayed twice before falling to the ground with a heavy thud.

Only a few seconds later, before they could react, there was another bang, and the head of another terrified-looking Demon soldier also burst apart.

The last Demon finally realized something was wrong. He pulled a bone flute from his robes and had just begun to play a shrill tune for a moment when his head, too, exploded, spraying blood and brains all over the ground.

The thick scent of blood spread, and the Demonic beasts surrounding the camp grew agitated, letting out low, continuous rumbles. Several Demon soldiers burst out of the tents, shouting in alarm at the bizarre and gruesome scene by the campfire.

More Demon soldiers rushed out of the tents one after another, brandishing their blades and climbing onto the backs of the Demonic beasts. But no one could spot any sign of the enemy nearby, and they could only wander around the camp like headless flies.

Several Demonic beasts uncontrollably spat out a few fireballs, but with no clear targets, they accidentally set a few of the Demon soldiers’ tents on fire.

The Demon cavalry, perched high on the backs of the Demonic beasts, were now like live targets exposed under the bright moonlight.

The Northern Army soldiers, long since lying in ambush, finally received the signal to attack. They rose to a crouch from within the dense bushes and long grass, raised their guns, and began firing at the Demons on the beasts’ backs.

The air rang with a continuous “zzt zzt zzt” sound—the hum of energy beams from the Magical Energy Guns firing in rapid succession.

One after another, the Demons on the beasts’ backs grunted and fell. Just one minute later, all that remained in the camp were a few injured but still-living Demonic beasts, lying on the ground and whining pitifully.

By the time Tommy rushed down from the slope to the battlefield on the meadow, the fight was already over.

“Finish off any of the beasts that aren’t dead. A stab through the eye should destroy their brains,” Tommy ordered loudly, urging his soldiers to begin the cleanup. “See if any of the Demons are still breathing. Tie them up and drag them back to the territory. They might be useful for the Lord’s research experiments…”

A soldier came over and asked, “Captain, what about the dead Demons?”

Tommy curled his lip, recalling Vaughn’s heroic feat of killing a Demon soldier with his bare hands, a sense of longing in his heart.

“Cut off all their dog heads. When we get back, we can show them off to those iron turtles in the Defense Force!”

The soldiers roared with laughter in unison and began to collect their trophies.

Chapter 162: The Battle for the Mine

A messenger, holding an alchemical communication device high in his hand, sprinted past the columns of soldiers and caught up with his captain.

“Captain Wayne! We’ve received a combat report from the First Battalion’s Third Squad!”

Wayne immediately halted, raising a hand to signal his soldiers to pause their march. He grabbed the young messenger. “Isn’t the Third Squad the vanguard? Did they encounter the enemy?”

“Yes, sir. They discovered a squad of Demon soldiers by the Greenwater Marsh. They launched a decisive surprise attack under the cover of darkness and annihilated the enemy!”

Wayne narrowed his eyes and muttered viciously, “Damn it, Tommy got lucky again!”

Night, dense forest, a surprise attack… as soon as these keywords came from the messenger’s mouth, he knew Tommy wouldn’t have failed. Although that guy’s bloodline talent didn’t directly enhance his body, it was just as lethal, and far more stealthy and intangible. He was a born long-range ambusher.

Wayne recalled a mission he had once received from the Lord himself, to assassinate a Federation Spellcaster in Grizzly Keep. If he’d had a talent like Tommy’s back then, the mission’s difficulty would have been dozens of times lower. He wouldn’t have had to suffer through days of lying motionless on a rooftop.

“Tommy’s squad is held up around Greenwater Marsh, which means… we’re the new vanguard now!” Wayne said in a low voice to the soldiers gathering around him. “They’ve already clashed with the Demons and scored a victory. Now it’s our turn!”

His mind was fixated on a single thought: to be the first squad to reach the natural mine at the end of the barren marshlands, before any other squad.

Although Commander Pierce had ordered that whichever combat squad arrived first must hold their position and wait for all other units to assemble before launching a coordinated attack, there was no problem with getting there ahead of the others to secure an advantageous attack position.

For this impromptu operation, the Northern Army had deployed a full thousand experienced soldiers, forming ten powerful combat squads. Nearly every squad was personally led by a transcendent being who had awakened their bloodline talent, like Wayne and Tommy.

As long as the Demon forces occupying the marsh mine weren’t several times their number, Wayne judged that winning this surprise attack wouldn’t be too difficult.

…

A sharp bird-call whistle rang out, and the temporary military camp set up in the dense forest instantly stirred to life in silence.

Dav burst out of his tent, which was half-hidden under a thick layer of fallen leaves, and ran to the earthen Earthenworks the soldiers had built, taking up his combat position.

He no longer needed to shout orders for his men to get into formation. They had drilled this combat procedure countless times at the River Valley Outpost and in the territory’s barracks. Everyone knew what they were supposed to be doing at this moment.

His second-in-command, a team leader, ran over, hunched over as he moved along the shallow trench. He whispered to Dav, “Boss, Captain Wayne of the Second Squad sent a message. He said to prepare for enemy contact. In a quarter of an hour, Commander Pierce will lead the assembled Squads Four through Ten in a direct assault on the Demon camp in the Mining Area. The Second Squad and us are responsible for blocking this mountain pass to prevent them from routing and escaping…”

Dav nodded to acknowledge the order, but after turning away, he bared his teeth in dissatisfaction. This operation mobilized the most elite First Battalion of the Northern Army. It was a pity that their Battalion Commander, Vaughn, was lying grievously injured in the Territory’s Infirmary. Commander Pierce was leading them into battle personally.

Unexpectedly, however, he had assigned the strongest First and Second Squads, led by Dav and Wayne respectively, to the second line of battle, responsible only for intercepting the remnants of the Demon forces who might break and flee from the main front.

Tommy’s Third Squad was still on its way and would likely miss the first wave of the direct confrontation as well.

But long years of training and strict military discipline ensured that even with a bellyful of dissatisfaction, Dav still calmly and quickly carried out all of the commander’s orders. He moved back and forth behind the Earthenworks of each combat group, carefully checking everyone’s ammunition and rifles. He also repeatedly sent soldiers to climb high trees to observe the situation in the Mining Area below.

Time ticked by. Suddenly, faint shouts echoed from the distant mountains, followed by an even more violent commotion erupting from the Mining Area at the foot of the mountain.

“Commander Pierce and the others have begun their attack on the Demons in the mine!”

Dav stood on a high slope and strained to see below, but his view was completely obscured by the dense, primeval forest. He couldn’t see a thing.

…

“Those big brutes! They’re about to charge! Everyone, take aim! Volley fire!”

A line of soldiers crouched in the trench rose to a half-squat in unison, smoothly raising their guns and aiming at the conspicuous targets a hundred meters away, and pulled their triggers.

Without even waiting to see the results of their volley, they pulled their bolts again, reloaded, and fired. In a battle at such close range, there was theoretically no need to aim. As long as you held your Magical Energy Gun level and fired at the target, you were bound to mow down a large number of enemies lining up to die.

After two volleys, the charging Demonic Beasts all collapsed. Their massive bodies slammed into the ground with a series of thuds. Only then did the soldiers realize that these giant beasts were carrying riders—the very Demon cavalry their commanders had repeatedly warned them about!

The Demon cavalrymen, thrown from their mounts when the beasts were shot, were trampled mercilessly by the stampeding herd in the chaos. They barely had time to let out a cry before they were killed instantly. A few lucky ones who managed to avoid being crushed by their own mounts had just scrambled to their feet when they were shot in the chest and thrown back to the ground.

“Assault! Assault! Watch for enemies ahead, they might be using those Demonic Beast corpses as cover!”

The captains of the squads leading the main assault shouted continuously, directing their soldiers to carefully advance into the Mining Area on foot, skirting around the corpses of the charging Demonic Beasts.

Sure enough, several surviving Demon soldiers, hiding behind the thick corpses of the beasts, leaped out with roars and attacked. A soldier who had just fixed a bayonet to his rifle had no time to shoot back. He could only grit his teeth and hold his rifle horizontally, attempting to block a downward cleaving strike.

With a crack, the ordinary cast-iron Magical Energy Gun couldn’t withstand the heavy blow and instantly snapped in two. The soldier, who was a full two heads shorter than the Demon cavalryman, was cut down by the powerful, heavy slash.

A nearby soldier immediately returned fire, roaring as he emptied the entire magazine of Magical Energy Bullets into the Demon who had just killed his comrade, instantly riddling him with holes.

More and more Demon cavalry began to use the corpses of Demonic Beasts, or large rocks and logs, as cover, waiting for the soldiers to approach before launching surprise attacks. The battle gradually shifted from a one-sided slaughter into a brutal scene where the Northern Army soldiers were forced into close-quarters combat with the powerful Demons.

Pierce keenly identified the enemy’s battle plan and immediately ordered the large number of Wolf Spider Beasts, who were already on standby, into the battlefield. They began to fan out, relentlessly driving out and searching for enemies hiding in various spots, exposing them to the soldiers’ gunfire.

Several Northern Army non-commissioned officers who had awakened their bloodline talents, after emptying their magazines, drew the custom-made alchemical combat blades made especially for them. They charged to the very front, leading by example and shielding the ordinary soldiers from the close-range Demon cavalry.

An officer with the appearance of a half-orc, brandishing a long saber that shimmered with a faint, frosty white light, collided with a tall Demon wearing a pauldron.

The moment their two equally sharp weapons clashed, the frosty light on the half-orc officer’s saber rapidly spread to his opponent’s weapon. Then, without slowing in the slightest, it crept up the Demon’s wrist and arm, instantly freezing half of his body solid.

The Bloodline Warrior’s talent: “Ice Blade”!

The half-orc officer kicked over the frozen Demon and was about to reverse his grip on the saber to plunge it into his throat when a fireball suddenly flew in from the side, slamming heavily into his back and sending him flying several meters before he crashed to the ground.

“Iron Head!” a comrade who was also engaged in close combat with the Demons roared in anguish. But Iron Head, who had been hit by the fireball, twitched a couple of times and slowly climbed back to his feet.

His back and one side of his face were burned blood-red by the searing flames, his skin a mess of溃爛, but he still bent down to pick up his fallen saber and returned to the Demon he had frozen.

Gritting his teeth, he brought the blade down, lopping off the head of the Demon, whose face was still etched with terror. “Damn it! You almost cooked me alive! It hurts like hell! Son of a bitch!”

The vitality of a Bloodline Warrior was far superior to that of a mortal. Taking a few low-level spells from a Spellcaster head-on was no problem at all.

Chapter 163: A Cornered Foe Must Be Pursued, Annihilated to the Last

A commotion began to stir in the dense forest at the foot of the mountain. Through the thick trees, Dav could faintly see a group of dark figures rushing rapidly in his direction.

Commander Pierce and the others had indeed crushed the Demon soldiers holed up in the Mining Area, driving them to flee into the forest toward the mountain pass.

He roughly estimated the number of routed soldiers to be over one hundred Demons—which also indicated that the Demon army occupying this mining area hadn’t been very large to begin with, just a small, isolated force.

Commander Pierce’s orders to him and Wayne were to let no Demon attempting to flee the battlefield escape. This meant they not only had to block the routed soldiers but also do their utmost to prevent them from scattering into the mountain forests, where they would be difficult to pursue.

Dav set up his Magical Energy Gun, shook off the dead leaves that had settled on him, and turned to signal his deputy team leader to blow the bird-call whistle for alternating fire.

The pass, wedged between two steep mountain walls, was nothing more than a rugged path less than ten meters wide. If the Demon soldiers couldn’t climb the cliffs, their only option was to squeeze past right under their noses. They had no other choice.

Having the soldiers fire in rotation, picking them off one by one, was the most ammunition-efficient and effective method of attack. During the battle, the soldiers in the first line of cover would fire five volleys, then the soldiers in the second line of cover would take their turn, allowing the first group to reload their empty Magical Energy Guns. They would just repeat this cycle.

However, when the routed Demon soldiers actually neared their interception line, the unexpected happened.

After three volleys of gunfire, the startled Demonic beasts, now wounded, immediately began spewing massive fireballs. The projectiles sailed over the cover and landed scattered among the trenches where the soldiers were hiding. Although the direct hit rate was pathetically low, it was enough to send the entire line into chaos, with men and beasts thrown into disarray.

The heatwaves from the landing fireballs kicked up clouds of dirt, and the massive explosions made Dav’s ears ring. Demonic beasts shot in the head collapsed on the spot, completely blocking the narrow mountain pass. The Demon soldiers couldn’t charge forward, and the Northern Army couldn’t fire freely through the layers of beast corpses.

“These damn Demons! Fucking hell, they bring these stupid beasts even when they’re running for their lives, and now they’ve blocked their own escape route!” Dav spat out a mouthful of dirt and swore.

At the other end of the forked pass, Wayne, who was responsible for blocking the Demon soldiers, had run into the same problem. For a time, both hundred-man squads of the Northern Army and the several hundred Demon soldiers with their Demonic beasts were completely stuck in the narrow pass.

The other Northern Army squads that had pushed into the Mining Area began to close in on the pass. The routed Demons had been so thoroughly beaten by the strangely powerful weapons that they had lost all will to fight and had no intention of organizing an effective counterattack. They scattered like headless flies. Many even abandoned their Demonic beast mounts and unstrapped their armor, preparing to climb the cliffs bare-handed to escape.

“Captain! They’re not charging us anymore! What do we do?”

Dav gritted his teeth, drew the alchemical longblade from his waist, and roared to the other two Bloodline Warriors in his squad, “What are you waiting for? Are we going to wait until the Bloodline Warriors from the other squads cut down all these Demons, and then go clean up the battlefield for them? Charge!”

The two he called out to had long been unable to contain the primal power within them. Hearing their Captain’s command, they immediately drew their melee weapons with excited grins, leaped out of the trench, and charged howling toward the routed Demon soldiers in the pass.

“Dav? Shit, you’re charging in too?” Wayne, swinging a long-handled war blade that burned with roaring flames and radiated deadly heat, cut down a Demon soldier who had rushed him. His talent was imbuing his weapon with a Scorching Blade effect; chopping through hard metal armor was as easy as slicing through butter with a red-hot knife.

Dav narrowly dodged a fireball shot straight at him and slammed his body into a Demon soldier, plunging his longblade into the man’s heart.

“Shit, only a fool would stay in the trenches waiting for them to charge to their deaths! If we don’t get in here, the other squads down the pass will steal all the merit!”

Two more Demon soldiers swung their longblades at him. Dav didn’t have a talent for enhancing weapons like the others. He could only rely on the enhanced physical skills from his bloodline awakening, gritting his teeth as he used his blade to block two weapons striking at him simultaneously.

Wayne rushed to support him, stabbing one of the Demons in the kidney and sending him flying with a kick. This gave Dav a moment’s respite, and he a squatted and swept his blade low, severing the remaining unlucky Demon’s legs.

“There are too many Demon soldiers packed in the pass! We shouldn’t have been so reckless and charged in…” Wayne muttered with a frown as he swung his scorching blade. “Dav, we should fall back. Let’s wait for Commander Pierce and the others to close in from the other side, then we can turn around and finish them…”

Amidst the chaos, Dav turned to look at the two squad mates who had charged in with him. He saw they were also surrounded by seven or eight powerfully built Demon soldiers. But thanks to their “Great Strength” and “Ice” bloodline abilities, they were barely holding on without incident.

He vaguely realized how reckless his order to charge had been. Only after engaging these Demon soldiers in close combat could he feel the true difference in fighting strength between them and the vile orcs.

These guys were not only tall and sturdy, but their strength also far surpassed that of an ordinary human. Though they were just common soldiers, they possessed an innate great strength comparable to a Bloodline Warrior’s, and every one of them seemed to be an experienced and seasoned fighter.

And then there were the massive, fireball-spewing Demonic beasts that never left their sides. With the two working in tandem, the Northern Army was no match for them without the support of Magical Energy Guns and alchemical beasts.

The five or six Bloodline Warriors he and Wayne had led in the charge were clearly outmatched by the encirclement of these fierce and skilled Demon soldiers.

Commander Pierce’s casual mention of “don’t pursue a cornered foe” during their officer training now made perfect sense—an enemy trapped with no way out would often erupt with far greater fighting strength and will to survive than usual.

With his mind distracted for a moment, Dav immediately showed an opening. A Demon soldier ambushing him from the side slashed his waist. The wound immediately gushed a large amount of blood, but for less than a second. The severed muscles began to wriggle and knit back together. While it didn’t heal instantly, the bleeding stopped.

This was Dav’s bloodline talent—“Enhanced Healing.”

At Dav’s whistle, Wayne and the others gradually regrouped, preparing to fall back to their own line. The Demon soldiers seemed to realize that these charging brutes were having second thoughts, and naturally, they weren’t about to let them go so easily, pressing their attack.

Suddenly, the massive, crimson head of a Demon soldier at the very front exploded with a bang. His body, carried by inertia, stumbled forward two more steps before toppling to the ground.

Wayne was overjoyed. Without even turning to look behind him, he yelled to his comrades, “Fuck it! Why retreat now? That guy Tommy is finally here!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, two more heads exploded with a pop pop, as if in response to his call.

Chapter 164: Reaping the Spoils of War

Pierce stood in the Mining Area, where the cleanup of the battlefield had just begun. He raised his hand and dealt Wayne and Dav two hard slaps each.

The slaps, one to the left cheek and one to the right, were heavy and symmetrical. The only difference was that the swelling on Dav’s face subsided after just a few seconds, while Wayne’s face ballooned, the corner of his mouth nearly split open.

“Did you two leave your ears at home during command training? Leaving your own soldiers, taking it upon yourselves with the squad’s Bloodline Warriors to charge a routed Demon force ten times your number? It looks like you’re asking for a court-martial!”

Dav and Wayne hung their heads and didn’t dare make a sound, standing at attention to receive Pierce’s tirade.

“If Tommy hadn’t arrived just in time, and if I hadn’t ordered him to support you immediately, you’d all be buried here today… Don’t think you’re invincible just because you’ve awakened your bloodline talents. The Demons aren’t like the vile orcs, enemies you can crush at will. If there had been just one demonic priest hiding among those routed troops, I’d be collecting your corpses today!”

Pierce took the battle report from his subordinate, his brow furrowed as he scanned it. He still felt a pang in his heart.

Even though this lone Demon force holed up in the Mining Area had no powerful spellcasters like priests, they had still inflicted considerable casualties on his troops.

The highest number of dead and injured were from the demonic beasts’ fireballs. More than thirty ordinary soldiers had died in the explosions, and over a hundred more had suffered burns of varying degrees. Fortunately, he had brought medical alchemical beasts and a large supply of magical potions on this operation, which allowed them to stabilize the severely wounded so they could hold on until they returned to the territory for treatment.

Another dozen or so soldiers had died in direct confrontation with Demon soldiers. After losing the advantage of the Magical Energy Guns’ long-range attacks, ordinary soldiers were no match for the tall, powerful Demons in close combat. If not for the early deployment of the alchemical beasts and the presence of Bloodline Warriors in their ranks, the casualties would likely have been much higher.

My lord Harvey had once casually mentioned to him that a ten percent casualty rate in a small-scale battle was already an ideal result, something that could basically be described as a great victory.

But the lives of his soldiers were precious. Soldiers who had undergone rigorous training, were proficient with Magical Energy Guns, and could follow orders without question in the heat of battle were even more so. Losing even one of them made Pierce feel a physical pang of regret.

Thankfully, there were no losses among the Bloodline Warriors he had so painstakingly cultivated. Although several were injured so badly they had practically lost all combat ability, their enhanced vitality was tenacious enough that he didn’t have to worry too much about the worst-case scenario of them dying from their wounds.

“Commander! We found some strange things in the Demon encampment… They look a bit… a bit like those strange alchemical instruments his lordship invented.”

“Hm? Alchemical instruments?” Pierce frowned slightly. Mentor Astaren had never told him that the Demons had a profession like Alchemist among them.

He followed the soldier in charge of cleaning the battlefield to the center of the Demons’ ruined camp. There, he saw an ugly and bizarrely shaped tower-like instrument standing in a temporarily excavated mine shaft near the mountain wall.

“This thing can be called an alchemical instrument?”

In terms of material, design, or aesthetics, it was nothing compared to the precise and structurally beautiful alchemical devices that my lord Harvey and Rainer assembled…

Why would the Demons temporarily dig a shallow mineshaft here and move this machine into it?

The soldier quickly handed over an even stranger object—a cylindrical metal canister, about the length and thickness of a forearm, with a rusty exterior.

“We found a large number of these strange canisters in the Demon soldiers’ tents and in this mineshaft. They seem to contain some kind of liquid… but everyone strictly followed regulations and didn’t dare to open them rashly.”

Pierce was very pleased with his soldiers’ caution. He had the soldier place the canister on a rock deep inside the cave, then ordered everyone to retreat to the entrance. He himself took a Magical Energy Gun, casually aimed at the canister’s upper opening, and pulled the trigger.

With a soft hiss, the canister was knocked to the ground. A pool of colorless, transparent liquid slowly flowed out from the rupture, but it evaporated and vanished in an instant.

Pierce twitched his nose, using his extraordinary Vampire sense of smell to carefully investigate, but he detected no unusual odors or anything strange.

“Weird… This clearly isn’t water or any kind of alcohol, nor is it poison. To think it evaporates and disappears so quickly after being exposed to the air…”

He didn’t bother to investigate further and waved his hand decisively. “Take them all back. The knowledgeable Lord will naturally know its origin and purpose.”

The work of clearing out and cleaning up the battlefield was not, in fact, complicated. The Demon force totaled no more than five hundred, and surprisingly, not all of them had mounted demonic beasts. There were only about a hundred, all of which had been killed on the spot by the Northern Army’s soldiers. The flesh of the demonic beasts had an extremely sour and rotten smell, and Pierce had no intention of using them as military rations.

The territory’s new food factory had long since begun mass-production of a wide variety of special military rations, thoughtfully sealed in tinned cans that didn’t spoil easily. From stewed beef and mutton cooked until tender, to a savory and flavorful mushroom chicken soup, to extremely filling compressed wheat cakes, they had everything a soldier could want. It allowed the soldiers to eat until their mouths were greasy with oil even while campaigning in the field.

“Don’t waste the hides of these demonic beasts. They actually have two layers of hide, an inner and an outer one. The outer layer is unusually tough, while the inner layer is extremely soft and comfortable against the skin. It’s the best material for making military uniforms…” The non-commissioned officer in charge of quartermaster logistics was overjoyed, calling for the soldiers cleaning the battlefield to carefully skin the beasts.

Pierce quickly gave another order: “Take their weapons and armor too… They can be sent back to the foundry to be smelted directly into ingots and reforged into new weapons.”

One had to live frugally and meticulously. Pierce always kept Harvey’s repeated and earnest instructions in mind—an excellent modern army relies on strong logistical support and equipment.

“Commander! Commander! Something’s happened!” a young medic came running over in a hurry.

Before he could even report, Pierce felt a dull ache in his head. This was his first time leading a long-distance operation, and so many unexpected things had happened, not to mention the considerable casualties. He felt like he was simply an unqualified commander.

“Now what happened?”

The young medic had a strange expression, the corners of his mouth twitching as he hesitated to speak. “You should come with me to the medical station and see for yourself…”

Due to the large number of wounded from the battle, the field medicine group within the logistics team had been forced to set up several temporary tents to serve as a Field Hospital.

When Pierce arrived, he found it wasn’t a case of a wounded soldier’s condition suddenly worsening, or any other emergency involving more casualties.

Instead, several ordinary soldiers were clutching their mouths, squatting by the entrance of the medical tent, drenched in sweat. They looked at their commander with panic in their eyes.

“What in the world is going on? You! Stand up and tell me!” Pierce, face dark with anger, randomly pointed at one of the squatting, mouth-clutching soldiers and ordered him to report directly.

The soldier reflexively shot to his feet, but he couldn’t bring himself to let go of his mouth, letting out a series of muffled noises instead.

“Commander, these idiots found some wild fruits in the Demon soldiers’ tents. They smelled sweet, so they couldn’t resist sharing them and popping them into their mouths…”

The young medic rolled his eyes in annoyance and continued, “They hadn’t even swallowed when they found that their damned mouths, for some reason, were stuck shut. They couldn’t open them at all. When they tried to use their hands to pry the strange fruit out, their hands got stuck too…”

“What? You dared to put something you looted from a non-human race directly into your mouths? Were you reincarnated from starving ghosts?” Pierce’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets. He was at a loss for words to describe these idiots.

The medic quickly handed one of the strange fruits that had glued a soldier’s mouth shut to Pierce.

“It’s not poisonous, or they’d have been dead long ago. There are quite a lot of these fruits growing in the nearby mountain forests, but the Demon soldiers seemed to know not to eat them; they only picked and collected them.”

Pierce looked at the plump, bright red wild fruit in his hand and smelled a sweet, fresh fruit aroma. He instantly understood why they hadn’t been able to resist their gluttony.

“Quick, have the first group of soldiers returning to the territory take these stupid pigs with them. When they get back, have My lord Egnor figure out a way to pry open their stuck-shut damned mouths. If they’re delayed for a few more days, they’ll probably starve or thirst to death.”

He turned and instructed the young medic, “Send some men to the nearby woods to gather more of these fruits. Bring them back as well, and give them to my lord Harvey…”

Chapter 165: Spirit-Fusing Ore and a Strange Wild Fruit

Harvey put down the paper battle report in his hands, stood up, and walked over to Pierce, patting him on the shoulder.

“Don’t be too discouraged. As I said, a casualty rate of less than one-tenth is an excellent result… I’m very satisfied with your performance, Pierce.”

Astaren chuckled and picked up the conversation. “He’s just heartbroken over the soldiers we spent so much time and effort training. After all, we invested so much to teach them how to go from refugees, serfs, and herdsmen to warriors skilled in using magical weapons…”

Harvey sighed. “Battle always brings death. That’s something none of us can avoid. Our soldiers were chosen from the common people, and we will recruit more who are willing to fight bravely to protect their homes.”

“Give their bodies a proper burial. Arrange for the municipal department to deliver the compensation to their families as soon as possible. And don’t be perfunctory with the army’s funeral…”

He collected himself and asked Pierce in detail, “That natural mineral vein was occupied by the Demons for so long, yet there’s no sign they mined it at all?”

Pierce nodded and answered honestly, “That’s right. They only dug a few shallow pits and didn’t even locate the actual vein before giving up…”

He paused, then added, “However, I had my men bring back that strange device they left in the pit, along with the piles of metal canisters filled with an unknown liquid. They should have been delivered to the underground Laboratory by now…”

Harvey cut him off with a smile. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go see it now. We can find out just what kind of technology they’ve been developing…”

…

Rainer approached the bizarre, twisted, tower-shaped device, circling it to observe from every angle. He couldn’t make heads or tails of its true purpose. “It looks like a pile of scrap metal parts just randomly thrown together…”

The tower-shaped device did indeed look exceptionally crude. Its metal shell was dented and pockmarked with rust from damage and corrosion. At its peak was a transparent cover with a spherical crystal embedded within. A thin metal tube pierced through it, connecting to the base below. The base had a conspicuous slot, as if it required some additional component to become a complete whole.

Harvey was itching with curiosity, tempted to just dismantle it and examine its internal structure for any engraved inscriptions or a mechanism that could be driven by magical energy.

But Astaren suddenly spoke up, stopping him. “Wait… I think I know what this thing is for…”

He picked up one of the strange metal canisters, also seized from the Mining Area, and gave it a gentle shake, hearing the sloshing of liquid inside.

Then he walked straight to the tower-shaped device and inserted the canister into the slot in the base, where it fit perfectly.

“That’s it?” Harvey’s eyes widened in confusion. “This canister and this device are a set? What do they do?”

Astaren thought for a moment, recalling something from his past, before speaking slowly. “I once lived for a very long time in the Northern Realm’s Kingdom of Eternal Night, founded by the ancient wizards. I heard some wizards who fought against the Demons mention that this thing seems to be used by the Demons to… enhance their soldiers’ physical functions… a potion.”

Realization dawned on Harvey, who immediately pressed, “So the canisters are filled with the enhancement potions the demon soldiers carry? And this device is the machine that produces them?”

Astaren nodded and continued to explain, “Correct. This potion is different from the magic potion used in a Bloodline Warrior’s awakening ritual. It’s not a one-time dose that grants the demon soldier a permanently powerful physique. Instead, it requires repeated use. Each time the potion’s effects wear off, the soldier must take another dose.”

The word “stimulant” instantly popped into Harvey’s mind.

One dose works for a period of time, and when the effect fades, you just use it again. Wasn’t that the typical way stimulants were used?

“How is this potion concocted? What are the side effects of repeated use? For it to allow even an ordinary demon soldier to exhibit physical capabilities comparable to a Bloodline Warrior, there must be some sort of limitation, right?”

Harvey was certain this thing had to have some negative effects. Otherwise, in the war between the two races in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, these drug-fueled demon soldiers would have long since crushed the human Spellcasters and the Army of Judgment.

Astaren nodded, directly agreeing with Harvey’s speculation.

“Indeed. Although the enhancement potion can be freely used by demon soldiers, the dosage and frequency must be strictly controlled. If a soldier exceeds the limit or uses it too often, their body will immediately break down, their flesh and blood decaying until they die.”

“Moreover, the source of this potion is very strange. The ancient wizards never managed to decipher the true formula. They only knew that the main ingredient is a magical mineral called Spirit-Fusing Ore. It has to be transformed by this device before it can be filled into these special canisters and distributed to the demon army.”

After hearing Astaren’s full description, Harvey immediately connected all the clues and dimly perceived the answer.

This lone demon troop that had unexpectedly wandered near the Spine of the Continent Mountains was most likely a small unit from the main demon army’s southern front, which was launching a major offensive against the vile orcs. After encountering stiff resistance, they were forced for some unknown reason to retreat further south to the foot of the Spine of the Continent Mountains, losing contact with the main demon forces.

During their long campaign, this demon unit had gradually exhausted their supply of enhancement potions and desperately needed to replenish them. So they used some secret dowsing method to find that naturally formed magic stone vein, set up the potion-transforming device, and prepared to produce more.

But they had barely started digging when they discovered that mining the vein was far more difficult than they had anticipated. The Spirit-Fusing Ore they needed was likely located in a very deep stratum, impossible to reach without special extraction methods.

In their anxiety, they sent out several scout teams to explore the surrounding area, searching for other, shallower branches of the vein that would be easier to mine.

What happened next, of course, was that Harvey’s survey team discovered their tracks, which in turn brought the full might of the Northern Army down on them. With their potion supply dwindling and their bodies gradually weakening, the demon soldiers stood no chance and were completely annihilated near the Mining Area.

“An army that relies on drugs to boost its combat effectiveness will always have major weaknesses and flaws…” Harvey sighed, reaching his final conclusion. “Once their supply line is cut, the army’s morale and combat strength will plummet, eventually leading them to an irreversible doom.”

Considering this, he almost completely dismissed the idea of deciphering the demon enhancement potion for his own soldiers. Compared to the solid, reliable Magical Energy Guns in their hands, forcibly boosting combat power with potions was an extremely dangerous and inadvisable path.

“Right! What about that strange fruit growing near the Mining Area? I heard it got several greedy soldiers into a lot of trouble. Did Egnor figure out how to help them?”

Rainer couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “My lord, it was resolved the same day they were brought in. The fruit is extremely sticky, but if you pour strong liquor on it, it dissolves immediately and loses its adhesiveness.”

“But those poor bastards couldn’t save their teeth. The fruit pulp was stuck in their mouths for too long. When it was removed, it pulled out a whole mouthful of their teeth along with it. Egnor is now worrying about how to fit them all with a set of metal dentures…”

Chapter 166: The Natural Rubber Fruit

Two days later, Harvey, who had been engrossed in dismantling and studying the Demons’ pharmaceutical instruments, was suddenly begged by Egnor to make a trip to the Territory’s Infirmary.

“Haven’t we already found a way to handle this fruit?” Harvey asked, a little confused as he took the strange wild fruit from Egnor and weighed it in his palm.

But Egnor explained gleefully, “No, my lord, you have no idea how much this little fruit can help the Territory’s Infirmary’s treatment techniques…”

He put on a pair of special leather gloves, picked up a fruit, and crushed it on a metal tray. Then, he picked up a glob of the viscous pulp to show Harvey.

“This completely non-toxic, powerful adhesive can entirely replace stitching wounds with thread. It can be applied directly over a wound as a dressing to seal it, and there’s no need to remove stitches afterward.”

As he spoke, he pulled Harvey over to show him a soldier who had been sent back from the Mining Area battlefield. A thick layer of what looked like jam was spread over a huge gash on the soldier’s leg.

“Not only is it a clean, non-toxic wound dressing, but it also has some hemostatic, anti-inflammatory, and analgesic properties. This is practically a divine medicine for external injuries!”

Only then did Harvey realize the immense power contained within this small wild fruit. He immediately summoned one of his personal guards and ordered him to notify Pierce at once. Pierce was to arrange for the guard squad still stationed in the Mining Area to collect large quantities of these wild fruits from the surrounding area and send them back to the territory.

Egnor quickly added, “Not only do we need to collect the ripe fruit, but we also have to find a way to dig up some of the saplings and bring them back! This fruit has no seeds inside. I suspect it’s a plant that reproduces and grows through its root system…”

He planned to transplant some into his own magical herb garden. If the survival rate was high, he would open up a dedicated area in the territory for mass cultivation and use magic to rapidly accelerate their growth.

Harvey asked, puzzled, “How did you discover that strong spirits could make the fruit’s stickiness disappear and free those unlucky soldiers?”

Egnor smiled smugly. “It was just a coincidence. When they were brought in, I noticed their faces were covered in scratches from desperately trying to claw the sticky stuff off their mouths. I had the physicians use distilled spirits to disinfect their wounds, and it ended up dissolving the sticky pulp directly…”

Although he didn’t know the principle behind it, the various strange substances in this world still seemed to follow certain rules of mutual generation and suppression.

The fruit’s adhesive properties were so powerful that, besides its applications in medical technology, it would also be highly useful in other areas requiring strong bonding—such as in the construction of some precision alchemical instruments.

Just then, Egnor used tongs to pull a large, dark, lumpy substance out of an alchemical crucible and held it before Harvey.

“My lord, I tried boiling the pulp of this fruit in a crucible. In the end, it melted and congealed into a block of this black substance. Its properties are very strange… It’s soft, yet elastic, and it’s a solid…”

Harvey subconsciously took the black block. He gave it a light squeeze and found that it was indeed elastic, but it immediately returned to its original shape and couldn’t be kneaded into different forms.

Wait! Elasticity! A flash of inspiration struck Harvey’s mind as an unusually familiar object came to mind.

Isn’t this fucking natural rubber?

To have extracted natural rubber from a wild fruit was simply incredible!

He immediately had Egnor take out all the congealed blocks of the boiled fruit. Without looking back, he left the infirmary and returned to his underground laboratory in the castle.

…

Using the high-temperature welding torch equipped on his arm, Rainer condensed a fine jet of flame and gently cut the dark block of fruit gel apart.

A wisp of faint white smoke rose from the cut surface where the black gel met the flame. Harvey sniffed it and found that it wasn’t the familiar, unpleasant odor of burning rubber products.

He threw the cut pieces of fruit gel back into the crucible and heated them. The gel gradually melted back into a viscous black liquid, and upon cooling, it returned to its solid, elastic state.

In terms of all its reactions, this fruit gel was indeed no different from rubber: lightweight, highly resilient, capable of being polymerized by heat, and exhibiting reversible deformation…

This also meant that the fruit gel substance could be heated and spread over an object’s surface. Upon cooling, it would form a special, rubber-like coating. Just as it protected wounds, it could form a protective film on specific objects, increasing their durability.

Removing the coating was also very simple. One only needed to spray it with distilled spirits—in other words, crudely produced alcohol—and it would dissolve in an instant.

Harvey immediately had Rainer conduct a series of further tests.

The final results confirmed that the substance’s practical applications were exceptionally broad. Common acids couldn’t easily corrode it. When frozen, it became slightly harder, but it didn’t easily deform or crack; its elasticity was just slightly less than at room temperature.

Compared to its fresh pulp state, the heated fruit gel lost its powerful adhesive properties but gained waterproof characteristics. When heated and molded into the shape of a container, it could easily be filled with water without the slightest sign of leakage.

Its only drawback, much like rubber, was its intolerance to high temperatures. This could be considered a weakness. As soon as it came into contact with a high-temperature flame, it would immediately melt into a viscous liquid and would have to cool down again to re-solidify.

“When I get the chance, I can use my newly created electromagnetic magic to test if this fruit gel substance has the same insulating properties as rubber…”

But even if it didn’t, it wouldn’t be a major issue. After all, he didn’t currently have the ability to build a generator from scratch, so he didn’t have a pressing need for insulating materials as a strong impetus for technological development.

But the uses for this fruit gel coating… they were far too extensive!

All the alchemical instruments, metal energy conduits, and even the metal pipes laid during the territory’s infrastructure project that were prone to decay and rust could all be protected with this natural waterproof and rust-proof coating, greatly increasing their lifespan.

Then there was the invention Harvey had been dreaming of but had never been able to realize—a vehicle with real rubber tires, a magical energy-powered automobile!

After all, the various alchemical beasts, which were made by capturing living creatures and performing a soul transfer, could never truly replace conventional vehicles.

So far, Harvey had only managed to acquire about ten expensive, man-portable War Beasts by coincidentally capturing a herd of barren land mammoths. Popularizing them for widespread use was simply impossible.

Staring at the dark piece of fruit gel in his hand, Harvey’s mind was already brimming with a host of new inventions—bicycles that all the territory’s civilians could ride, long-distance magical-powered carriages or cars, and even high-speed troop carriers equipped with elastic rubber tracks that could traverse mountains and forests as if they were flat ground…

You could say that only with rubber wheels could the wheels of history for the territory’s technological development truly begin to roll forward.

Chapter 167: Seeking Help on the Forum

Harvey had scoured nearly the entire Magic Encyclopedia on the forum, yet he found no information related to the Demon’s enhancement potion or the formula for Spirit-Fusing Ore.

The Magic Encyclopedia, still in the phase of having its data organized and uploaded, had not yet been officially opened to all forum members. Access was only granted to the three new members from the Federation to facilitate their tedious, round-the-clock work of uploading information.

It was likely that Mr. Scorching Sovereign, the Chief of the Federation, had developed a stereotypical impression of the Spellcaster Forum. He subconsciously assumed that all its members were at least high-rank Spellcasters, which resulted in all the uploaded research documents being extremely profound, high-level knowledge. Some were even ancient texts from non-human races that had not yet been fully translated.

This was a wild rave in the blind spots of my knowledge, leaving Harvey with the horrifying illusion of having entered a dragon’s treasure hoard but being unable to take away a single shiny gold coin.

“A Theoretical Exposition on Elemental Control in the Modern Magic System…”

“A High-Level Comparative Experiment on Transmutation Spells and Ancient Illusions…”

“A Conjecture on the Application of Shadow Magic in Ninth-Circle Model Construction…”

“Reflections on Overcoming the Magical Resistance of Defensive Radiant Divine Magic…”

Harvey browsed through the dazzlingly profound knowledge in the Magic Encyclopedia, feeling for the first time that his usually sharp mind was not quite up to the task.

“These people from the Federation are so earnest! Couldn’t they have uploaded some easier-to-understand, elementary theories? Even a few mid-rank spells I could copy and learn would have been nice…”

Sitting beside him, Astaren, who also had a “Magic Brain” to assist Harvey in reviewing forum data, couldn’t help but chuckle. “My lord, they are operating under the assumption that everyone on the forum is a powerful, high-level caster. They’re worried that uploading low-level magical knowledge would make the forum administrators think they are being perfunctory and disrespectful in this collaboration.”

From his frequent interactions with the Scorching Sovereign, Harvey had learned that the Federation placed great importance on its collaboration with the Spellcaster Forum. When Harvey, in his capacity as the administrator Turing, had officially announced the launch of the online Magic Encyclopedia during a regular gathering, the forum members representing the Elves and the Burrowing Dwarves had also expressed their strong approval and keen interest.

Most progressive Spellcasters of the new era had long been weary of the traditional, conservative ways of the old wizarding establishment.

Although obtaining this high-level magical knowledge from the forum’s Magic Encyclopedia still required paying an exorbitant price—a large number of forum points—it was now a viable path.

The system for acquiring points on the forum was already well-established. Official members only needed to participate in the weekly Spellcaster gathering to earn a guaranteed ten points.

In the Information Exchange and Anonymous Consignment sections, members could sell rare magical materials, high-rank spells, and exclusive secret knowledge in exchange for points. This was an effective way to accumulate points quickly.

However, high-level casters tended to be lavish spenders, meaning they earned points as quickly as they spent them. The recently released “Tower of Magic,” an amusing adventure game, had already ensnared many members who found themselves hopelessly addicted. Some had invested hundreds of points just to climb the tower-climbing leaderboard by drawing powerful spell cards.

Furthermore, a majority of members frequently used the forum’s instant teleportation service. While the point cost for a single use wasn’t high, it added up to a significant expenditure over time.

Lately, by secretly peering into the forum’s backend, Harvey had discovered that the point balances of most members were gradually dwindling, with some even hitting rock bottom.

Only a select few, such as the Legendary Casters the Scorching Sovereign and the Shadow Knight, managed to maintain a triple-digit point count. The vast majority of members had next to no points left.

Launching the online Magic Encyclopedia at this moment was a perfect confluence of timing, opportunity, and need!

Out of points? No problem. Just trade your documents, research papers, and precious spells for them!

…

Fell Hoden, with the handle “Son of Flame,” was one of the “forum paupers” Harvey had his eye on.

Ever since becoming addicted to the virtual adventure game “Tower of Magic,” his daily verbal sparring with his “arch-nemesis,” Frost Giant, had swiftly moved from the Information Exchange section to a fierce battle for the top three spots on the game’s leaderboard.

Upon discovering that spell cards obtained in the “Tower of Magic” could be freely traded on the forum, Fell went to great lengths. He spent a large number of points and coupled it with a mix of threats and inducements to acquire several powerful purple-grade spell cards from members he was on good terms with, such as Spellshield, the Astrologer, and Hand of Elements.

This helped him surge to third place on that month’s tower-climbing leaderboard, second only to Kel’Thuzad and the Scorching Sovereign who held the top two spots, and pushing the former third-place holder, Frost Giant, down.

The thrill was naturally followed by a sense of emptiness, which was only amplified when he saw the number representing his points under his handle drop to single digits, filling him with anxiety.

Therefore, he planned to spend his entire day today camped out in the forum’s information section, looking through the trade listings posted by other members for any opportunity to earn points.

“Huh? Someone on the forum is asking about the Demon’s flesh-and-blood potion…”

Fell frowned, finding it a bit strange.

Logically, any combat-type Spellcaster registered with the Federation would have surely completed a rotation assignment in the Evil Moon Mountain Range upon reaching a high rank. That meant they would have a hundred percent chance of having fought against ordinary Demon cavalry or spellcasting priests.

In that case, they would certainly know that Demon soldiers possessed a special flesh-and-blood enhancement potion, which they needed to consume regularly to maintain their formidable combat strength.

Only those research-type Spellcasters who holed up in their Mage Towers all day, never venturing out, and rarely interacting deeply with their peers would be completely ignorant of this.

“I never thought Mr. Kel’Thuzad would be such a reclusive, bookish nerd in real life…”

Recalling how the man had been somewhat timid and silent when they had explored the Magic Net together, Fell suddenly felt that his online persona perfectly matched his real-life identity. He couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Damn it. He’s a powerhouse in the Tower of Magic, leaving everyone in the dust with his rank, but in reality, he’s just a meek, reclusive bookworm who’s never even been to a demon battlefield. Hahahaha!”

War intelligence concerning the Demons wasn’t exactly a classified secret. In fact, the Federation and the Wizard’s Alliance were eager to publicize it, as this particular secret was practically a fatal weakness for the Demons.

Fell’s spirits lifted, and his fingers began to fly across the keyboard as he typed out a reply.

【Son of Flame: Detailed intelligence on the flesh-and-blood potion the Demons use to enhance their soldiers was actually obtained by us early on in the war between our two races.】

【This information is practically public knowledge within the Federation and the wizard kingdoms. You probably never learned about it because you aren’t an official member of the Federation.】

【To concoct their flesh-and-blood enhancement potion, the Demons require a rare magical mineral called Spirit-Fusing Ore. So far, this material is only found north of the Spine of the Continent Mountains, in the core regions of large, naturally formed magic stone veins. It’s a wondrous mineral that looks like a crystal but contains a liquid substance inside.】

【After mining this Spirit-Fusing Ore, the Demons fuse it with the flesh and blood of demonic beasts in specific proportions. Then, using a special device called a “Blood-Awakening Instrument,” they convert it into a potion, which is then sealed in airtight containers for storage.】

【Moreover, when the Demon soldiers use these potions, they don’t drink them directly. Instead, they use metal probes to inject the potion straight into their bodies, allowing for direct absorption of its properties. This was a piece of intelligence we paid a heavy price to discover and observe…】

Chapter 168: The Control Experiment

Harvey successfully obtained intelligence about the Demons’ bloodline enhancement potion from the Forum member “Son of Flame.”

The only regret was that Son of Flame had stated that, to this day, the Federation had never managed to crack or acquire the formula for this bloodline potion, a secret the Demons had passed down for centuries. They had conducted live injection experiments on death row inmates with captured enhancement potions.

The result was that the test subjects’ flesh and blood disintegrated on the spot, and their deaths were extremely gruesome. This also proved that there was indeed a great physical difference between Demons and humans; an enhancement potion suitable for them could not be replicated for human use.

However, from the long message he received, Harvey keenly caught a crucial piece of information—Spirit-Fusing Ore was produced in the core area of large, naturally formed magic stone veins.

It was a strange, liquid magical mineral.

This was almost identical to the description of the wondrous Magic Net creature—the Magic Spirit—that Mr. Mind Devil had previously captured for him from the Magic Net space.

It was also extremely similar to the Energy-devouring beetles that Harvey had accidentally discovered, which had brought him great profits.

The beetles also lived near large, natural magic stone veins, while the Magic Spirits lived in the crimson pipelines of the Magic Net, which were灌注d with vast amounts of pure magical energy.

Although they had various different properties, one point was always completely identical—they were all natural byproducts of magic stone veins.

A thought that even he found preposterous suddenly flashed through Harvey’s mind.

“Could it be that what the Demon soldiers are injecting isn’t some secret bloodline enhancement medicine at all, but… but pure, liquid magical energy extracted from these magic stone byproducts?”

…

Harvey had Rainer retrieve the living Magic Spirit that Mr. Mind Devil had recently captured, along with the spherical droplet full of liquid magical energy it inhabited, in preparation for a control experiment.

The inspiration for this experiment came from the hypothesis about the composition of the Demons’ bloodline enhancement potion provided by “Son of Flame.”

The living Magic Spirit sent by Mr. Mind Devil was somewhat listless. This was because after coming from the Magic Net space into the real world, the liquid magical energy stored in its tiny droplet was gradually being depleted. It was like the oxygen content decreasing in a fish tank; in a few more days, it would slowly suffocate and die from a lack of magical energy.

Using the metal tentacles assembled on his back, Rainer deftly separated the Magic Spirit from the droplet and then used a hollow metal probe to extract all the liquid magical energy from within.

Harvey, meanwhile, walked over to the captured Demon “Blood-Awakening Instrument.” He instructed Rainer to quickly transfer the Magic Spirit and the liquid into the transparent cover with a spherical crystal embedded on top. Then, using an energy pipeline connected to an external energy-gathering array, he forcibly activated the Demon instrument.

As a faint wave of energy emanated from the instrument, Harvey could clearly see through the crystal cover on top that the living Magic Spirit and the liquid magical energy were rapidly being broken down by the array inscribed within the instrument. They soon merged into a translucent, irregular mass, slowly levitating inside the crystal cover.

Rainer immediately brought over an empty energy storage canister and placed it directly into the groove at the bottom of the instrument, making the canister fit perfectly with the recess in the base.

The energy-gathering array emitted a rhythmic humming sound, continuously supplying power to the array inscribed on the dilapidated “Blood-Awakening Instrument.” Soon, the levitating translucent substance was completely siphoned into the storage canister below.

Harvey impatiently took the storage canister and shook it gently, discovering that it was indeed refilled with a liquid substance.

He had successfully replicated a substance suspected to have the same properties as the bloodline enhancement potion, all without a formula.

Next, he needed to conduct live clinical trials with the potion to verify if his hypothesis was truly correct.

Unfortunately, during the small-scale raid at the Mining Area, the Northern Army had suffered dozens of casualties, which had clearly enraged them. Without a prior request from Harvey to capture prisoners and with Pierce’s tacit approval, all severely wounded, surviving Demon soldiers were beheaded on the spot, leaving no one alive.

The tradition of cutting off heads, piling them up, and displaying them on the battlefield to intimidate non-human enemies was a unique post-battle ritual of the Northern Army that had gradually become popular since the time they fought the vile orcs at River Valley Outpost.

Only now did Harvey realize his mistake. If he wanted to get his hands on another living Demon soldier, he would probably have to turn his attention to the Evil Moon Mountain Range, thousands of miles away.

The common fighting style of Demon soldiers was to fight to the death without retreating. Even when hopelessly surrounded, they would desperately try to use their “Flesh and Blood Detonation” innate ability to take their enemies down with them. Even if one were captured alive, they would either soon die from their severe injuries or suffer from potion withdrawal symptoms due to a lack of continuous supply, ultimately finding no escape from death.

The reason Harvey’s Northern Army soldiers were not hit by these kamikaze-style attacks during the battle at the Mining Area was that they were lucky enough to encounter a lone Demon force that was collectively in a weakened state from a prolonged lack of potion supply. The drug content in their bodies was too low for them to unleash such a terrifying self-destruct attack.

This was also the main reason why, despite the large number of Demon prisoners captured by the human side during the decades-long war between the two races in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, they were never sold internally to the kingdoms of the south.

However, for a research-type Spellcaster like Harvey, occasionally needing a Demon prisoner as a test subject for magical research was not too difficult to arrange.

Especially now that he had a good, anonymous, and mutually beneficial relationship with the Federation.

[Shadow Knight: Mr. Kel’Thuzad, you want a live Demon test subject? That’s not hard for me to get. However, I need to inform you beforehand that they are mostly missing limbs and are half-dead from potion withdrawal. Forget withstanding your magical experiments, if you just leave them there, they won’t even live for a few days…]

[Shadow Knight: Are you sure you really want to buy such a worthless test subject? I’d be too embarrassed to even charge you points for it. I could give it to you for free, as long as you pay the high cost of live teleportation yourself…]

The Spellcaster Forum had long since officially launched online services for the instantaneous teleportation of living creatures and large-volume goods. It was just that the number of points required was too high, and few Forum members ever tried it, resulting in Harvey’s earnings from this service remaining mediocre.

A single teleportation fee of a full fifty points, plus an additional one thousand gold pounds for the instant delivery add-on, was enough to post a bounty for a high-rank spell in the Forum’s Information Exchange section.

Of course, Harvey didn’t mind the cost. After all, it was just a matter of moving money from his left pocket to his right.

So, the very next day, he received a live express delivery from the Blackstone City fortress on the Evil Moon battlefield.

“Missing limbs, indeed… This one happens to be missing exactly one arm and one leg.”

Harvey couldn’t help but sigh as he looked at the Demon soldier that appeared on the large teleportation array, bound in iron chains with a cloth bag over its head, trussed up tightly.

Rainer, meanwhile, drove the metal tentacles on his back to toss the disabled Demon, which was bound like a mummy, directly onto the experiment table and lock it in place with clamps. After removing the hood, he discovered that the creature’s crimson eyes were already turning a deathly dark yellow. Its once bulging, rippling muscles had withered as if dehydrated, and its scales and skin appeared dull and lackluster.

Rainer quickly reminded Harvey, “My lord, by the looks of it, I’m afraid it won’t survive the night. I remember Mr. Astaren saying that when Demons enter a weakened state from potion withdrawal, their eyes will gradually change color. In the dying phase, their deep red eyes will turn a sickening dark yellow, as if festering…”

Harvey waved his hand, signaling him not to worry. In any case, he was about to test the enhancement potion he had haphazardly replicated (the wild-guess version) on this fellow.

Perhaps the injection would kill it instantly, and it wouldn’t even have a chance to live through the night.

Chapter 169: Submitting a Thesis, Research on Anti-Demon Weapons

To make his living subject a bit more alert, Harvey called over Egnor, who was busy in the infirmary, and had him use a mid-rank healing spell to briefly revitalize the disabled Demon’s condition.

After his capture, this Demon had clearly not received the basic treatment befitting a high-rank intelligent lifeform. Even the wounds from his brutally severed limbs had been left to stanch and heal on their own through his formidable vitality. The Federation’s battle mages couldn’t even be bothered to bandage them.

What was even more inhumane was that the battle mages, seemingly to silence his constant wails, had shoved some unknown sharp object into his mouth and mangled it, shredding his sharp teeth and tongue to bits. As a result, he could now make no sound other than muffled grunts.

Harvey felt not a shred of pity for him. The war between different races was inherently cruel. If a human Spellcaster were captured by the Demons, being stuffed into the belly of a Demonic beast as feed for their mounts would be considered a gentle treatment.

Under the half-elf’s nature-based healing spell, the dying Demon recovered a bit of vitality. However, his vigorous resistance lasted for less than fifteen minutes before the weakness from the potion withdrawal hit him again, leaving him limp on the operating table, struggling powerlessly. His mangled, bloody mouth opened and closed repeatedly, like a gasping fish out of water.

Harvey retrieved a metal probe and a glass injection tube made by Egnor. He combined them and drew more than half of the replicated enhancement potion from the storage canister, then handed it to Rainer, who was in charge of the experimental procedure.

“Two injections. One intravenous, one intramuscular.”

Rainer clamped the syringe with a metal tentacle, turned, and pinned down the terrified Demon. Ignoring its final, desperate struggle, he steadily carried out Harvey’s instructions.

Pulling the empty syringe from the Demon’s thick thigh, Harvey and Rainer stood side by side, observing the subject’s reaction up close under the glow of the light-emitting magic stone.

After about a minute, the dying Demon’s mouth gaped open, and he violently exhaled a scorching breath from deep within his throat. Following that, his pupils, once a pus-like dark yellow, gradually lost their color and returned to a vibrant crimson.

His previously atrophied muscles gradually swelled and bulged, and even the faint veins beneath his skin began to throb. His dehydrated, wrinkled skin regained its luster.

“It… It really worked?” Rainer couldn’t help but exclaim in disbelief, subconsciously turning to look at Harvey. “My lord, the potion you casually concocted actually revitalized him!”

It was simply unbelievable!

The Federation had fought for decades, capturing and confiscating so many Demon warriors and their accompanying storage canisters, yet not a single person had ever succeeded in cracking the formula for this bloodline enhancement potion.

But on second thought, Harvey found it logical. Battle mages would only focus on the power of their own spells and raising their ranks; they would have no interest in a field of research that offered them no direct benefit.

As for the research-type Spellcasters who weren’t active on the battlefield, they were even less likely to expend vast amounts of money, materials, and their own energy to get to the bottom of non-human secrets. It was obviously far better to spend that time improving and analyzing a few more spell matrices.

Of course, Harvey hadn’t gone to all this trouble to complete this experiment solely to satisfy his own curiosity.

The most important purpose of replicating the Demon enhancement potion was to verify his prior hypothesis—that what the Demon soldiers were using wasn’t a secret bloodline enhancement potion at all, but pure, liquid magical energy extracted from a byproduct of a magic stone vein.

Magical energy could be injected to directly affect the body of an intelligent lifeform, strengthening both their bloodline and physical abilities!

Harvey almost dared not think too deeply about the implications of this truth.

The bloodline knight awakening ritual, which originated from the Radiant Church, had to be connected to the Demons’ method of enhancement by magical energy injection!

The former used powerful ancient magical creatures as raw materials for a bloodline potion to complete a talent awakening. In essence, this was also a way of absorbing the residual magical energy within magical creatures, only with many other ingredients added. This, combined with a ritual, neutralized the violent properties of the pure magical energy to prevent the participant’s death should the awakening fail.

But the Demons, a race with a naturally powerful constitution, had clearly abandoned this cumbersome and costly method of awakening. They had switched to the crude and direct injection of magical energy, merely retaining the practice of mixing in the flesh and blood of magical creatures to neutralize the so-called “violent properties.”

“Could it be… that the Church intentionally leaked this method to the non-human races? And after the Demons obtained the formula, they simply made a cruder, more streamlined version?”

Of course, the truth could very well be the other way around: the Demons first invented this primitive, barbaric method of enhancement, and only after the Church somehow seized the formula did the current bloodline knight awakening come to be.

Regardless of the truth, Harvey, as a Spellcaster, held equal disdain for both the Demons and the Church.

No! Compared to the Demons, who had brazenly launched a war between the two races and directly invaded human territory, Harvey faintly felt he loathed the Radiant Church even more—the Church that held sway over large swaths of the common populace as believers, yet had persecuted Spellcasters for hundreds of years under the pretense of heresy and blasphemy.

At this thought, an idea sparked in his mind. He couldn’t help but hatch a plan for revenge that would kill two birds with one stone.

The Demons… injecting magical energy to enhance their soldiers’ combat power.

The Church… the truth behind the formula for the bloodline awakening ritual.

“Rainer! Bring me your experiment logbook. From now on, I will dictate, and you will record.”

Though he didn’t understand why, Rainer nodded and decisively pulled his thick logbook from his pouch. Holding a quill with a metal tentacle, he began to rapidly record Harvey’s experimental results and research arguments.

—A Research Report on the Similarities Between the Demon Bloodline Enhancement Potion and the Church’s Bloodline Awakening Ritual

If this research paper, complete with detailed experimental procedures and a discussion of the results, could pass the Federation’s review and be formally published in the Federation’s official bulletin, which circulated throughout the nations of the Southern Continent…

…he wondered what kind of disgusted expressions the Priests and Bishops of the Church would wear upon seeing it.

Harvey was very much looking forward to it!

However, publishing an experimental paper to disgust the Church was not, in fact, his final objective.

The ultimate goal Harvey wanted to achieve with this complex live-subject control experiment was actually to develop an anti-Demon weapon—one that specifically targeted the Demons’ drug-enhanced constitution!

He had already planned out the entire subsequent experimental procedure in his mind.

Since the Demons directly absorbed pure magical energy to enhance themselves, wouldn’t the Energy-devouring beetles—which naturally absorb magical energy—be the perfect counter, their natural predator against the abundant magical energy in their bodies?

If he used the soul transfer of an Energy-devouring beetle to create an alchemical weapon similar to a Magical Energy Gun, he would only need to slightly adjust its activation and operation to obtain a portable alchemical device. Instead of firing Magical Energy Bullets, it would directly drain the magical energy from a Demon’s body!

Once it could be mass-produced and deployed in bulk to the Demon battlefield in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, and put in the hands of battle mages who already possessed powerful spellcasting abilities… perhaps they could truly halt the Demon offensive at the Evil Moon Mountain Range, or even launch a counterattack to the northern side of the mountains, invading the Demon territory where humans had never before set foot!

Chapter 170: An Anonymous Paper

Araye, Celestial Domain Magic Tower.

In a room on a middle floor of the floating magic tower, three high-rank Spellcasters sat before three “Magic Brain” instruments arranged neatly on a long table. They wore identical, standard-issue mage robes of deep black, their cuffs embroidered with three decorative silver stripes.

They had been personally appointed by the Federation’s Chief—the Legendary Mage Kemer Salas—to join the mysterious Magic Net Casters Forum and were responsible for sorting and uploading the Federation’s internal documents into the “Online Magic Encyclopedia.”

This was a time-consuming, long-term task. Even though the three of them could use an improved version of Mage Hand to handle the most tedious part—typing—just sorting through the various precious documents delivered to them daily consumed all their mental energy and time, aside from eating, drinking, relieving themselves, and their daily meditation.

Of course, these three also displayed the typical physical traits of research-type Spellcasters who spent their years working desk jobs at the Federation—thinning hair on top of their heads.

“Lari, how many of today’s documents are left to upload?”

The Spellcaster in charge of reviewing the documents kept his eyes fixed on the manuscript in his hand. “Another batch is coming later. Let’s pick up the pace…”

The mage called Lari stood up, stretched, and prepared to walk over to the sofa to relax and order a cup of black tea from an attendant.

“Rodney, Hunter, are you two sure you don’t want to come have some tea and take a break?”

Of the three, the Spellcaster called Hunter was the one whose hair loss was most severe, and he was also the most diligent in reviewing and uploading documents.

He didn’t respond to his colleague’s invitation, insisting on finishing the review and organization of the last document in his hand. Then, he personally logged into the Spellcaster Forum and, key by key, entered it completely into the Magic Encyclopedia.

This was because the paper was from his mentor—one of the Federation’s three Chiefs, the Legendary Mage Sorun Dawson.

Hunter meticulously finished uploading his mentor’s paper, then subconsciously browsed through all the documents he had uploaded that morning. There were a full twenty of them.

Wait! Twenty… no, why is there an extra one?

He rubbed his eyes and scrolled through the list again, counting under his breath.

There really was an extra one!

“Lari! Rodney! Something’s wrong! A new paper has suddenly appeared in the Forum’s Magic Encyclopedia!”

Lari, who was already half-reclined on the sofa sipping his black tea, pouted and said nonchalantly, “You’re probably seeing things… or you just uploaded one too many. Don’t make a fuss.”

Rodney chimed in, “We each get a fixed twenty documents delivered to us every day. How could there be an extra one? You didn’t count yesterday’s work as part of today’s, did you?”

Hunter shook his head firmly, issuing a swift denial. “Absolutely not. I’m not like you two. After I finish uploading the day’s files, I always insert a separate document index to act as a counter…”

“Found it! This is the paper that suddenly appeared!” he shouted, startling his two colleagues. “No wonder the title and author seemed so unfamiliar. I have no impression of it at all!”

“A Research Report on the Similarities Between the Demon Bloodline Enhancement Potion… and the Church’s Bloodline Awakening Ritual?”

Seeing the bizarre title, Hunter’s jaw dropped in a stupor. What kind of outlandish research direction was this? The Demons’ enhancement potion… the Church’s bloodline awakening ritual? A study of their similarities?

As a high-rank research-type Spellcaster in the Federation, Hunter himself had successfully published several constructive papers, both alone and with others. One had even been selected for publication in the Federation’s official bulletin, earning him high praise.

He knew better than anyone that to publish a research paper, the direction of study had to blend theory with empirical evidence. It couldn’t rely on mere conjecture or baseless speculation. Otherwise, it wouldn’t even pass the initial review by the Department of Academic Research and would be sent back, possibly with a side of scathing commentary.

After all, most Spellcasters were mortals with the same emotions and desires as anyone else. They harbored greed and jealousy, and there was no shortage of stubborn, narrow-minded individuals among them. While they took great joy in publishing their own valuable papers, they derived even greater psychological satisfaction from criticizing, attacking, and outright refuting the research of others.

Hearing that an unknown paper had suddenly appeared in the Forum, Hunter’s two colleagues were instantly intrigued and hurried over to his Magic Brain. “There’s really an extra paper? Quick, open it up! Could it be some Forum member trying to use the Spellcaster Forum as a shortcut, a back door to get their paper published?”

Hunter opened the article. He didn’t intend to read the content in detail yet, instead scrolling directly to the bottom to check the author’s name.

“Kel’Thuzad? Is that a Forum member’s handle, or a real name registered with the Federation?”

Lari waved over an assistant and ordered coolly, “Go to the Department of Affairs and check if there is a Mr. Kel’Thuzad among the Federation’s registered Spellcasters. You only need to check the high-rank Spellcaster registry…”

Hunter, meanwhile, raised his hand and summoned a Hand of Control. Three ethereal, nimble arms, each holding a quill pen dipped in ink, began rapidly transcribing the paper onto blank sheets.

“Hmph, an anonymous member of the Spellcaster Forum secretly slipping their own research paper into the Federation’s archives… a clever idea for a shortcut, I’ll give them that…” Lari scoffed, clearly displeased with such behavior.

For an orthodox Spellcaster to publish a paper through the Federation, they had to pass through three distinct stages of review and deliberation.

First, the paper had to be submitted to the Department of Academic Research, where it would be placed in a queue for initial review. This was the most time-consuming stage.

After passing the initial review, the paper would be assigned to the Intermediate Review Committee responsible for its school of magic. It would be reviewed in turn by twelve committee members, and only with a majority vote could it be forwarded to the final review department.

If the twelve reviewers gave it a unanimous vote, it meant the paper was highly innovative or held significant research value. At that point, it would be sent to the three Federation Chiefs for their final evaluation.

Only papers that received a positive evaluation from a Chief were qualified to be published in the Federation’s official bulletin and enjoy the praise and honor of the Spellcaster community.

After the Hand of Control finished transcribing the paper, the three high-rank Spellcasters each took a copy and stepped aside to read.

The room returned to a state of silence, broken only by the soft rustle of turning pages.

“Pure magical energy exists in the real world in three different forms—liquid, gas, and solid…”

“Natural magic stones represent the solid state, magical energy drawn from the Magic Net through meditation represents the gaseous state (in a simulated form), and the magical energy converted by the Demons’ special Blood-Awakening Instrument exists in a liquid state…”

“The Demons harvest Spirit-Fusing Ore, convert it into a liquid form using their instruments, and directly enhance their physical bodies through injection… Through… experiments, it can be definitively proven… that pure magical energy can be directly applied within the bodies of Demons to enhance their various physical abilities.”

“Meanwhile, the Radiant Church’s bloodline knight awakening potion also utilizes magical biological materials rich in pure magical energy, allowing the test subjects who consume the potion to achieve physical and constitutional enhancement… In essence, this method bears a striking resemblance to the Demons’ method of directly injecting pure magical energy into their bodies…”

Chapter 171: The Chief’s Personal Review

On the top floor of the Celestial Domain’s Mage Tower, inside a tight, windowless room so crowded and cluttered with all kinds of books and stacks of paper documents that there was no place to set one’s foot.

The short Legendary Mage, Sorun Dawson, who possessed a comical brandy nose, was curled up on the room’s only armchair, lost in thought as he read an ancient magical tome.

As the only old-school research-type Spellcaster among the Federation’s three Chiefs, one of his main areas of focus in recent years had been analyzing and deciphering the secret magical knowledge passed down by ancient wizards.

The only illumination in the windowless, gloomy room came from a magic stone lamp floating beside his ear. The lamp was rather peculiar, always nimbly adjusting its angle to match Dawson’s posture as he read, ensuring he always had ample light no matter how he moved.

A strange, eyeless, monstrous face suddenly appeared on the ceiling. The face’s features writhed rapidly, contorting into a fawning expression. “Lord Dawson, your most beloved student is at this moment hurrying anxiously toward your study…”

Dawson paused, pleasantly surprised. “Who? Is it Boles? Has he returned from Blackstone City?”

The monstrous face’s fawning smile stiffened for a moment. It gave a mock cough before slowly saying, “Er… it is your other student, the most diligent one… Hunter.”

Dawson raised a hand to pinch his brandy nose. He let out a distinctly disappointed “Oh,” then lowered his head back to his book and said no more.

Half a minute later, the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps indeed echoed from outside the room. Someone spoke in low tones with the attendant at the door for a moment, then knocked lightly on Dawson’s door.

“Come in, Hunter. I know it’s you…”

Hunter pushed the door open, slipped inside as quietly as possible, and then properly bowed to greet his mentor.

Without looking up, the short old man waved his hand and asked casually, “Weren’t you assigned to handle the document cataloging for the Spellcaster Forum? What are you doing here instead of working in the scriptorium?”

Hunter pulled a stack of papers from his coat. His hands trembled slightly as he presented them to his mentor, his voice thick with suppressed excitement. “Mentor… you, you must see this paper. It suddenly appeared in the Magic Encyclopedia’s archives today while I was working on the Spellcaster Forum.”

Hmm? Suddenly appeared? Dawson frowned, sensing something was amiss. Was a Forum member trying to slip a paper into the published archives without the Federation’s review? What was the meaning of this?

He took the document casually and began to scan it.

“Demon enhancement potion, the Church’s bloodline awakening ritual… liquid magical energy applications… Hey! Well, I’ll be!” The initially nonchalant Dawson’s face suddenly erupted in a joyful surprise after quickly skimming the abstract, which Hunter had clearly simplified and transcribed.

As if to confirm what he’d read, he went over it again carefully, then couldn’t stop himself from jumping up from the armchair. He stared at his student and demanded, “This… this… where’s the full paper? Did you bring it? Does it really include the results of the control experiments and the corresponding data?”

Hunter nodded连忙, pulling the true, complete version of the paper from his coat and placing it in his mentor’s hands.

Dawson glanced at him reproachfully and grumbled, “Couldn’t you have just given me the whole thing from the start? Why all this unnecessary nonsense…”

Hunter could only weep inwardly. Everyone knew his mentor, Lord Dawson, was the most impatient of the Federation’s Chiefs. To avoid wasting his precious time on a paper that might be judged as trash, any document submitted for his review was always first simplified into an abstract.

Dawson spent a full half-hour, at times flipping through the pages quickly, at others pausing to beckon an ancient, leather-bound book from a pile. The tome would float before him, its pages turning on their own without a breeze, allowing him to compare the paper with the book’s contents.

“A paper… of remarkable insight and exploratory spirit. It’s worthy of being a reference for deeper analytical research…”

Dawson snapped his fingers. The large pile of reference books floating beside him closed and returned to their original places.

He pinched the paper, which was less than ten pages thick, his expression shifting uncertainly.

Hunter, however, had already silently committed the comment his mentor had just uttered to memory. It was very likely to be one of the important evaluations appended to the end of the article when it was published in the official bulletin.

Dawson let out a soft sigh. “Salas was right. We have always been too focused on ourselves on the path of magic, completely ignoring the study and exploration of other intelligent species. This is the greatest flaw of our short-lived species—pride and arrogance.”

He quickly rolled up the paper and tucked it into his coat. “Hunter, for now, tell the other two members in charge of the Forum’s document cataloging to put a hold on this paper. Don’t publicize it…”

Hunter was taken aback. “Mentor, this paper… doesn’t it need to go through the Department of Academic Research?”

Dawson shot him a look. “Isn’t that exactly why you rushed over here? To bypass their review?”

He trailed off mid-sentence, then abruptly pulled the paper from his coat again and unfurled it. “Wait! Didn’t you copy down the author’s name? Which Forum member is it?”’

Hunter hurriedly replied, “It’s a high-level caster registered under the name Kel’Thuzad. We don’t have the authority to view the Forum’s member list, so I’m not sure if he is a member. However, I’ve already checked the registry of high-level casters registered with the Federation, and there’s no information on this person…”

“Idiot, of course you can’t find any information on him! Kel’Thuzad is just his forum handle, not his real name!”

Without waiting for further explanation from Hunter, he immediately turned to leave the study, heading for the Advanced Spellcraft Laboratory located on the middle floors of the Celestial Domain’s Mage Tower, which was exclusively for the Federation’s Chiefs.

Hunter watched his mentor with pleading eyes, and Dawson’s heart softened just before he left. “Fine, you come with me. We’ll go find Salas. We’ll replicate the control experiment mentioned in this paper to verify its findings…”

A good number of Demons, intended for live experimentation, had been sent to the Celestial Domain. But due to the long journey, the Federation had to use expensive flying griffins to transport them to Araye before their life force was depleted. As a result, only Spellcasters with high standing in the Federation were qualified to freely use Demons as experimental subjects.

“Also, that… Blood-Awakening Instrument the author repeatedly mentioned. Didn’t we confiscate a few of those? I remember them gathering dust in the Celestial Domain’s vault. Send someone to bring one to the Laboratory immediately!”

Chapter 172: The Lie of God-Given Bloodlines

To personally witness an experiment by two of the Federation’s Legendary Chiefs was a precious opportunity that all its Spellcasters dreamed of.

Hunter was inwardly exclaiming with wild joy. Thankfully, his other two colleagues had been too afraid to disturb Mentor Dawson and hadn’t dared to submit this strange anonymous paper to him. He, on the other hand, had been pushed into coming, leveraging his status as a nominal student. Who would have thought he’d stumble into such a massive stroke of luck?

It seemed Lady Luck truly favored the bold… ahem, the forcibly bold counted too.

When Hunter followed his mentor, Dawson, to the magical laboratory in the Celestial Domain’s Mage Tower, a high-rank Alchemist long stationed with the Federation was already waiting there with the “Blood-Awakening Instrument.”

This was his first time entering this grand laboratory hall, which only Chief Archmages were qualified to use. The laboratory occupied an entire floor of the Mage Tower. In the center was a waist-high platform enclosed by a crystal dome infused with protective arrays. Inside were an experimental bench and numerous alchemical devices.

A network of metal energy conduits and glass tubes formed a strange experimental circulation system, connected to many rare magical devices, lending it all a strange and mysterious beauty.

The door on the other side of the laboratory hall was suddenly pushed open. Three… three identical Chief… Salases walked in side-by-side, striding quickly into the laboratory.

“Dawson, I’ve already seen that paper you sent!”

“Are you planning to replicate the synthesis experiment detailed in the paper? And then use it on a Demonic experimental subject to verify the author’s thesis?”

“If this is successful, it will directly overturn the Radiant Church’s ridiculous theory… of god-given bloodlines!”

The three “Salas” Chiefs spoke at almost the same time, yet uttered three completely different sentences. The deep, resounding voices overlapped, echoing throughout the hall, instantly making Hunter feel a discomforting ringing in his ears and dizziness, his body swaying slightly.

This wasn’t the Chief Archmage’s doing on purpose. Hunter had vaguely heard from rumors circulating within the Federation that Chief Salas had suffered severe damage to his sigils years ago when he failed an analysis of an original nine-circle spell.

It was a wound that reached the level of his soul. Although he had managed to mend the damaged part of his soul with the formidable power of a Legendary Caster, a side effect remained: a manifestation of multiple physical personalities, triggered by fluctuations in his mental energy and the leakage of magical energy from his body.

Dawson, however, was long accustomed to his old friend’s occasional schizophrenic states. He placed both palms gently on the surface of the crystal dome over the experimental platform, causing ripples to spread across it rapidly. Then, he simply passed his physical body right through the dome and stepped inside.

From inside the dome, he said in a deep voice, “The rest of you can observe from the outside. This experiment… Salas and I will conduct it personally.”

Aside from Hunter, the other attendants and the experimental assistants, who were mid-rank Spellcasters, immediately and discreetly withdrew from the laboratory hall. After all, unpublished experiments by Legendary Casters were strictly off-limits to anyone besides their disciples and students.

Once everyone had left, Hunter sensibly took out his experimental logbook and a Recording Stone for capturing video of the experiment. He used a Hand of Control to fix it in place, aimed at the experimental bench.

The Salases stepped forward in unison. The three illusory figures overlapped and merged, teleporting directly inside the crystal dome next to the experimental bench. Without any preamble, he urged, “Alright, let’s get started!”

Dawson, already beginning his work, glanced at Hunter, who was watching intently from outside the crystal dome. In a low voice, he said, “In the Radiant Church’s holy book, the transformation of the Army of Judgment’s bloodline knights has always been described as a process of praying to their god in a specific ritual to be granted bloodline power.”

“The Demons’ method of bloodline enhancement, however, is exceptionally crude and direct. They use Spirit-Fusing Ore and the flesh of Demonic beasts—two natural substances rich in magical energy—to create a potion that is injected directly into ordinary Demonic soldiers.”

“Therefore, we have every reason to posit a hypothesis: perhaps no specific ritual is needed at all. The flesh of magical creatures from the natural world, or the magical substances within their bodies, can inherently neutralize the frenzied properties of pure magical energy, allowing it to be directly infused into a living being to enhance their bloodline and constitution…”

Salas chuckled. “If what you say is true, then the whole theory the Church preaches becomes utterly comical…”

The two of them chatted casually, their tone relaxed, but their hands never paused in their experimental procedures. Several Mage Hands, moving as fast as afterimages under their precise and stable control, methodically completed the process of extracting the liquid magical substance from the Spirit-Fusing Ore, just as described in the anonymous paper.

Next, they swiftly disassembled the “Blood-Awakening Instrument,” transcribing and replicating all the formation inscriptions on its interior before reassembling it into a brand-new device.

The Demonic beast flesh used in this replication experiment was a live sample taken directly from the Celestial Domain’s magical treasury—the internal organs of a captured and farmed tundra giant bear. This was done to closely match the type of magical creature unique to the Northern Realm that the Demons typically use when concocting their potions.

The liquid substance from the Spirit-Fusing Ore and the giant bear’s organs were quickly placed into the “Blood-Awakening Instrument’s” fusion chamber. Salas touched the top of the instrument with his fingertip, injecting a massive amount of magical energy into it and instantly activating it.

A Storage canister, the type commonly used by the Demons for their potions, had already been inserted below. As the instrument ran, the canister was gradually filled with an unknown liquid.

“The steps and materials should be correct. After all, the paper didn’t specify that a particular species of Demonic beast was required…” Dawson removed the Storage canister, gently swirling the liquid inside.

The laboratory doors opened again, and two assistants quickly entered, pushing a metal gurney.

Tightly bound to the gurney with leather straps was a severely weakened Demonic soldier. He was from a recent batch of Demonic prisoners sent to Araye, and his potion withdrawal period wasn’t so long that he was on the verge of death yet.

“No time to waste. Hunter, go get a metal syringe with a probe attached…”

Dawson pressed a button on the experimental bench, and the protective crystal dome immediately lifted open. He tossed the Storage canister in his hand directly into his flustered student’s arms and urged, “You will be the one to complete the final step of this experiment!”

“This way, you too will have witnessed this historic moment—the unveiling of the Church’s hypocritical lies.”

Hunter, trembling, retrieved the syringe, drew up a full tube of the liquid potion from the Storage canister, and walked over to the Demon. Though weak, the prisoner was still struggling furiously, his crimson eyes glaring.

He plunged the syringe’s probe directly into a bulging vein on the Demon’s neck…

“Pupils dilating… The yellow pustules that appeared after potion withdrawal are starting to fade.”

“Body temperature is rising. It looks like he’s about to enter a frenzied combat state…”

“His atrophied muscles and dehydrated, wrinkled skin are showing some degree of recovery. The potion seems to be taking effect very quickly…”

The Demon’s struggles grew stronger, straining the leather straps and buckles binding him so tightly it seemed they would snap at any moment.

Salas, who had been standing to the side observing all these reactions, suddenly let out a long sigh of relief.

“You see… Magic does indeed follow the will of nature, not the rules bestowed by gods…”

“The end and the ultimate truth of the path of magic is not the domain of gods.”

Chapter 173: Thesis Evaluation: Groundbreaking and Subversive

Araye, in a lounge at the top of the Mage Tower in the Celestial Domain.

Kemer Salas and Sorun Dawson sat on their respective armchairs, each lost in thought.

A full-length mirror inlaid with silver filigree stood to the side. Ripples suddenly spread across its surface, and the figure of a middle-aged man in a black robe appeared within it.

It was Wes Gallagher, one of the Federation’s three Chiefs, who was currently in the Evil Moon Mountain Range.

Gallagher coughed lightly, rousing his two old friends from their contemplation.

“I’ve received your message. I wish I could return to Araye immediately to see the results of this experiment for myself…”

Salas, however, shook his head slightly, interrupting Gallagher before he could comment further on the experiment.

“Let’s put the experiment aside for a moment, Gallagher. What’s the current situation in Blackstone City?”

The black-robed Archmage fiddled with a jet-black ring on his finger and said indifferently, “After eliminating the Church’s cancerous growth in the Evil Moon Mining Area, the Federation has already dispatched Spellcasters to begin relocating the followers who were lingering there, unsure of what to do, back to the city in an orderly fashion…”

Dawson asked doubtfully, “What about the remaining Army of Judgment? Did they just let you take over the Mining Area? They didn’t have any extreme reactions?”

Salas sneered, “They’re now convinced that the incident was caused by a fallen one among the followers who was tempted by a Devil. They’ve completely lost faith in the followers in the Mining Area… They couldn’t wait for us to take over this mess. In fact, they evacuated the Mining Area on their own before the Federation’s personnel even arrived.”

According to Gallagher’s report, the Church’s army, having lost its high-ranking Chief Inquisitor and a group of Inquisitorial Knight officers, has now returned to Blackstone City. They have neither initiated contact with the Federation nor mentioned the Devil-summoning incident that occurred in the Mining Area. It seems they’ve decided to swallow this bitter pill, unwilling to get further entangled with other factions.

Dawson nodded in understanding. He glanced at Salas and said slowly, “If that’s the case, should we still publish the contents of this anonymous thesis?”

The implication in his words was clear—since the physical blow to the Church had already been effective, was it necessary to provoke a public opinion dispute with this thesis?

After all, no matter how intense their covert struggles and strategic games were, the alliance agreement between the Federation and the Church had not officially been broken. Moreover, the Demons, their number one enemy, were still eyeing them covetously. If the Federation were to flip the table now, it could lead to a series of uncontrollable consequences…

A brief silence fell over the room…

Salas habitually stood up and walked to the window. In a deep voice, he said, “The content of this thesis does more than just directly expose the fraudulent hypocrisy of the Church’s faith… It also, in the simplest way, points all Spellcasters dedicated to magical research toward a completely new direction—a field of knowledge we have long ignored out of arrogance and conceit.”

Since the enhancement potions the Demons use to strengthen their common people are created in the exact same way the Church transforms its bloodline knights, it undoubtedly proves that the ubiquitous magical energy in the Magic Net can not only be drawn upon and utilized by Spellcasters through meditation, but can also be indirectly transformed. It can be extracted from various magical substances in the real world and applied directly to ordinary people without spellcasting talent, allowing them to transcend the mundane and become extraordinary.

All of this follows the world’s most primitive natural will and the laws of reality, having nothing whatsoever to do with so-called divine grace.

Salas smiled. “The truly significant impact this thesis will have upon publication is that it will tell all Spellcasters who can understand its contents that the path we walk is not a profane one of usurping divine authority, but a path of wisdom… one of exploring the essence of the world and the laws of nature.”

Among the seven great wizard kingdoms, there are many Spellcaster organizations and ancient wizard families who study the ways of magic while also believing in the God of Glory. They firmly believe that the extraordinary power brought by magic must involve divine authority and domains. This belief provides a transcendent identity for the spellcasting talent passed down through their family generations.

This group also serves as an important bridge in the alliance between the Church and the Federation’s Spellcasters. They are the faction that least wants to see the alliance fall apart.

Gallagher let out a disdainful chuckle. “This thesis will indeed shake the fragile spiritual beliefs of those hardliners. Hmph… It does nothing more than shatter the lie of God-given bloodlines, which is like giving the gate to their vaunted divine domain a swift, hard kick. It’s quite satisfying. I’d love to see the looks on the faces of the Thirteenth and his Cardinals when they learn of these experiment results. It will certainly be a sight to behold.”

Dawson, however, shook his head. “Don’t forget the domain of the soul. That is the ultimate anchor for their faith in a god. It’s a field our current research has been unable to touch. They can easily attribute all divine power to the soul level. To completely crush their influence on public opinion in the secular world, we still have a long way to go…”

Of course, as long as it can shake the beliefs of some of the less devout followers who are also Spellcasters, allowing the core theory subtly revealed in this thesis to plant a seed of doubt in their minds and lead them to verify it through their own experiments, then the intended result will have been achieved.

The three Chiefs quickly reached a consensus on the matter—they would bypass the thesis review committee, unanimously approve the paper, and arrange for its immediate publication in next month’s Federation’s official bulletin.

Dawson rubbed his red, brandy nose and muttered, “For an anonymously submitted thesis, how should we write the evaluation? Should we contact that Administrator, Mr. Turing, through the Forum to get the author’s real identity?”

Gallagher shot the little old man Dawson a glare and grumbled, “Absolutely not! Even anonymous publication is better than revealing their identity! I don’t want this anonymous Forum member to be hunted down by that pack of mad dogs from the Church. That would completely go against our original intention and would very likely infuriate Mr. Turing directly.”

Salas nodded in agreement. He casually summoned a piece of parchment and a quill from his desk and, using Mage Hand, began to write quickly.

“Hehe, since you both feel that writing an evaluation for an anonymous author is beneath your status and compromises your impartiality, then I will write the evaluation for this nameless genius myself. It won’t need to be co-signed by all three Chiefs, which will also avoid a lot of controversies and save the person in charge of the bulletin a great deal of continuous trouble down the line…”

Dawson and Gallagher turned away, slightly embarrassed, but their eyes couldn’t help but dart toward the words Salas was rapidly writing.

“A thesis… demonstrating great acuity and an exploratory spirit, worthy of being used as a reference for more in-depth analysis and research…”

Dawson muttered a few lines along with Salas’s writing, feeling a sense of familiarity. After a moment of stunned silence, he complained indignantly, “Salas! You had Enzo eavesdrop on my conversations with others again!”

Salas burst out laughing. “Your offhand comment was quite pertinent! What’s the harm in me borrowing it?”

“By precisely identifying the three physical manifestations of magical energy in the real world from magical minerals and organisms found in nature… it combines bold conjecture with meticulous experimentation to perfectly replicate and decipher the secret of non-human races’ bloodline enhancement methods. It also provides a vital reference for research into the materialization of magical energy, broadening the knowledge and horizons of Spellcasters regarding the practical applications of magical energy…”

“Thesis Evaluator—Kemer Salas.”

Chapter 174: The Essence of Alchemy

On a morning three days later, the Quinn brothers, shoulder to shoulder, strolled leisurely into the Alchemical Exploration Society’s headquarters in Araye.

Compared to Araye’s iconic floating magic tower, the Celestial Domain, the Esoteric Society’s headquarters, situated in the southern part of the city, was remarkably low-key. It occupied less land than the estate of a secular royal duke. If one were to ignore the brass insignia hanging above the main entrance, most people would mistake it for the villa of some wealthy magnate or the office of a large merchant guild.

“Good morning, Chiefs!” The Quinn brothers’ assistant had been waiting by the door since early morning. Seeing the two of them arrive at the headquarters together—a rare sight—he hurried over to greet them.

“Your student, Mr. Chris Byrd, sent you a letter from Da’ers. Also, this month’s latest bulletin just arrived from the Federation’s publishing department… Would you two like to read the letter first, or the bulletin?”

Ofre walked straight to the sofa in the Chiefs’ lounge, sat down, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Chris and the others have already reached Da’ers?” he asked, puzzled. “With so many apprentices, they shouldn’t be able to use the continental teleportation array, right?”

Ed took a seat opposite him, accepted the letter and black tea from an attendant, and said casually, “Perhaps they were in a hurry. He was quite keen and eager to see that alchemical Laboratory the mysterious benefactor prepared for him…”

According to their prior arrangement, once Chris and his apprentices arrived in the wizard kingdom of Da’ers, they would be received by a dedicated team from the Dragonstone Merchant Guild’s Da’ers branch. After a brief rest, they would be escorted to the territory of their mysterious benefactor. There, with the Dragonstone Merchant Guild as a witness, they would sign a Magical Contract of secrecy. After that, they would no longer communicate frequently with the Esoteric Society in writing.

Ofre opened the letter from Chris and found that it was, as expected, a simple letter reporting his safe arrival in Da’ers. He glanced at it a couple of times before tossing it casually onto the coffee table.

The attendant, quick on his feet, handed the newly arrived bulletins to each of the two Chiefs.

The two men opened the new issue of the Federation’s official bulletin almost simultaneously, intending to browse through it briefly before discussing its contents.

And then, the brothers’ gazes suddenly froze. Their previously relaxed and easygoing expressions stiffened, and the corners of their mouths twitched rapidly twice, as if they were having a stroke.

“Chief? Chiefs?” The attendant, holding a refilled teacup, called out softly several times but received no response. He stood frozen in place, unsure of what to do.

Ed shot to his feet and walked over to sit right beside Ofre. The two brothers huddled close, their eyes fixed on the open pages of the bulletin in their hands.

The first article on the front page was titled—A Research Report on the Similarities Between the Demons’ Bloodline Enhancement Potion and the Church’s Bloodline Awakening Ritual.

Author: Kel’Thuzad (published anonymously), a Spellcaster not registered with the Federation, magical level unknown.

Time seemed to pause in the lounge until Ed’s fingers, clutching the bulletin, suddenly trembled. He turned his head stiffly to look at his twin brother.

“Ofre, if I remember correctly, Kel’Thuzad… isn’t he that independent alchemist from the Spellcaster Forum… the one we’ve always been on good terms with?”

Just a few months ago, they had participated in an adventure roaming the Magic Net together. The man had kept a low profile during the operation, barely speaking a word—the very image of a typical reclusive research fanatic.

Ofre felt as if an alchemical component were stuck in his throat. He choked for a long moment before finally managing to force out, “He… wasn’t he always struggling financially? To gather experiment materials and save on expenses, he had even purchased discarded materials from the Esoteric Society from us at a low price… How could he write this kind of… research paper, one that was personally reviewed by the Federation’s Chief and given an extremely high evaluation?”

Unprecedentedly, the article didn’t begin with the paper’s content. Instead, the review comments from the Federation’s Chief, Kemer Salas, were placed at the very beginning. The enlarged and bolded font, paired with an exceptionally high valuation of the paper, made it all the more impactful.

“Possessing great acuity and an exploratory spirit… A groundbreaking and subversive discourse…”

As the Quinn brothers began to read the main body of the paper, the experimental details described within sent their hearts hammering in their chests and blood rushing to their heads, their faces flushing crimson.

It most certainly lived up to the evaluation of the Legendary Caster who served as the Federation’s Chief—but it was likely far more than just groundbreaking and subversive.

The two brothers looked at each other subconsciously and said in unison, “This is a key to the divine domain!”

Then, Ofre suddenly shook his head violently and added decisively, “No! It’s not the true divine domain! It’s just a fabrication born of our ignorance, a hypocritical lie forced upon us by the Church!”

He stood up excitedly, waving his hand to dismiss the attendants standing frozen nearby. After the door was closed, he spun around, strode to the desk, and said in a trembling voice, “What damn God-given bloodlines! What divinely bestowed power! Hahaha! Magical energy, as a tangible substance in reality, can be neutralized and compounded just like we formulate alchemical potions, and then used to grant ordinary intelligent beings extraordinary power!”

Ed, as if waking from a dream, jumped up from the sofa as well. “Exactly! No wonder they restrict the use of Alchemical constructs and magical potions on ordinary mortals. Isn’t it because they’re afraid we’d discover this obvious secret?”

“No, no, no! The Federation and the Church are not wrong on this point. If pure magical energy were applied directly to mortals, their fragile flesh and blood would be unable to withstand it. That’s why the Demons need to incorporate the flesh of magical creatures as a supplementary ingredient in their formulas, and why the Church’s bloodline knight awakenings require a ritual…”

The more Ofre spoke, the more excited he became, and he couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “But neither is the most perfect method of application! Ed, have you noticed? The Demons’ enhancement potions cause their soldiers to suffer from addiction, and the enhanced bloodline abilities cannot be made permanent. And the Church… hahaha! The power of those who awaken their bloodlines through the Church’s rituals, and those Bloodline Warriors cultivated by the secular nobility with potions—as they grow older, the bloodline power within their bodies rapidly weakens…”

Ed nodded like a pecking chicken, completely understanding the implication in his twin’s words.

“Yes, logically speaking, if both those with bloodline talents and Spellcasters strengthen themselves and awaken their abilities through magical energy, then why is it that as Spellcasters age, their magical power becomes more abundant and powerful, while those with bloodline talents gradually weaken?”

Ofre waved his hands repeatedly, signaling him not to speculate wildly for now. “Quick, quick! Have the assistant prepare the Laboratory, and we need a live Demon test subject! Let’s immediately replicate the experiment detailed in this paper to verify this idea!”

At that moment, only one thought consumed them.

The Demons’ enhancement formula passed down for a thousand years? The Church’s secret method for cultivating bloodline knights?

They were all just deeply flawed… incomplete potion formulas for magical energy enhancement!

When it came to developing a truly perfect, flawless alchemical potion formula that could be applied to mortals without any side effects, it had to rely on those who possessed both wisdom and an adventurous spirit—Alchemists!

Chapter 175: The Tide of Secular Public Opinion

The Papal State, City of Grace—Goris.

Cardinal Tosa Ismael stood at the entrance to the prayer room, frowning slightly as he watched the group of cardinals gathered before the door, locked in a heated debate.

“All of you, stand down. His Holiness… will likely not see you today…”

A high-ranking Chief Inquisitor in a pure white robe stepped out from the crowd, his expression filled with anger. “Lord Ismael, are we to simply watch as those heretical wizards from the Federation blaspheme my Lord so brazenly?”

Another bishop, his white robe embroidered with gold thread, also stepped forward and said in a low voice, “How long has it been since the incident in the Barkley Duchy, where a high-level caster shamelessly attacked a Church sanctuary? And now they publicly declare that our God-given bloodlines ceremony is of the same origin as the Demons’ evil secret potions…”

Someone in the crowd added, “And the demon summoning and fall of believers in the Evil Moon Mining Area… who knows if these wizards didn’t secretly permit or even condone it…”

Ismael glanced around and noticed that nearly all who had stepped forward to protest were high-ranking members of the Divine Punishment Faction, all of whom he knew well.

“What do you propose? With the Demon army pressing at our borders, you wish to reignite the war with the Federation and the seven wizard kingdoms, to wash away this dishonor with blood?”

The Cardinal paused, his tone growing sterner. “Or do you believe that without the Spellcasters, relying solely on Priests, the Army of Judgment, and those powerless ordinary believers, we can hold the Demons back at Blackstone City and prevent them from setting a single foot into human territory?”

Ever since the Church had established a pact of non-aggression with the Federation and the wizard kingdoms, both sides had been forced to maintain a semblance of peace on the surface, despite constant friction and conflict in private. This was not only to collectively resist powerful non-human enemies but also to cooperate for their mutual benefit.

The article published in the latest issue of the Federation’s official bulletin was not particularly complex or obscure. It primarily provided an objective description of how to replicate a bloodline enhancement potion with identical effects to the Demons’, using a transformation device unique to the Demons, along with magical substances and creatures rich in magical energy.

The research paper opened with an evaluation from the Federation’s Chief, Kemer Salas. Ismael had met this Chief several times in Blackstone City during his youth and knew him to be a Legendary Caster, a man utterly fanatical about magical research and obsessed with seeking the ultimate truth of the arcane path.

Since he had dared to provide such an evaluation, complete with the entire experimental procedure, materials, and design, the authenticity of the results was beyond doubt. They had no fear of others attempting to replicate and verify it.

His Holiness the Pope’s words echoed in Ismael’s mind, and his composure gradually returned.

“The mere simulation of a potion formula for the bloodline enhancement ceremony has thrown you into doubt about the legitimacy of this divine grace? Mortals have always fantasized about usurping the authority of the gods. It has been this way for thousands of years!”

“They have only just fumbled their way to the gates of my Lord’s holy kingdom, and you are already in such a panic, thrown into disarray? Should it not be you who truly need to repent and pray, to reflect on why your own faith is so fragile?”

A few of the cardinals and Chief Inquisitors bowed their heads, closing their eyes and beginning to pray softly. However, a larger, more stubborn contingent held their heads high, gritting their teeth. “Lies! Blasphemy! Corruption! We can no longer tolerate those evil, transcendent wizards!”

“We ask that His Holiness the Pope come out and personally confirm to us the irrationality of these heresies!”

“I must see His Holiness in person and request that he issue a direct condemnation of the Federation!”

“The God-given bloodlines must not be questioned! Could it be that we have misunderstood my Lord’s revelation?”

As the crowd seethed, Ismael looked at the cardinals and high-ranking Chief Inquisitors, their expressions a mixture of confusion and fury. He helplessly raised the Papal Scepter in his hand and shouted sternly:

“His Holiness bids me ask you, why do you seek excuses to vent your shame and anger over your wavering faith?”

“Have you forgotten my Lord’s revelations and teachings? Have you forgotten the oracles clearly recorded in the holy book you study daily?”

“My Lord’s divine authority has never resided in mortal flesh, but in the souls of all living beings!”

Potions that could enhance bloodlines and physical bodies were not exclusive to the Demons. The Alchemical Exploration Society—a research school even more radical than the Federation—had long ago made public several alchemical drugs and devices capable of improving a Spellcaster’s constitution and modifying their body.

It was only due to their strict regulation and the alliance treaty that the application of these potions and devices to ordinary mortals was strictly forbidden.

Moreover, over its centuries of development, the Church itself had continuously weakened the formulas for the bloodline enhancement ceremony and secretly bestowed them upon secular noble families who were favorably inclined toward the Church, allowing them to cultivate large numbers of low-rank Bloodline Warriors incapable of further advancement.

And among these Bloodline Warriors, many had, in turn, become squires to wizards.

Ismael himself had learned from many of the Church’s secret historical archives that successive Popes had constantly incorporated magical principles discovered by Spellcasters to improve the ancient divine arts passed down through the Church, significantly increasing their power.

“The flesh is but an external vessel that will ultimately decay. The soul is the vital essence that constitutes life.”

“The true divine grace the Lord bestows upon all creation is the creation of the soul, not the strengthening of the flesh. It is your failure to truly comprehend the will of my Lord within the holy book that has made you so foolishly and impatiently waver in your convictions.”

Wielding the scepter personally granted to him by the Pope, Cardinal Ismael’s series of questions and explanations finally restored calm to the chaotic bishops and Chief Inquisitors.

“The above was told to me by His Holiness the Pope himself. Gentlemen, the most important matter at present is to confront your own true thoughts and reconstruct your interpretation and understanding of the holy book.”

“For the parishes you are each responsible for, immediately arrange for the Priests and clerics to pass down His Holiness’s will and quickly stabilize the people’s hearts and minds…”

The Cardinal methodically issued a series of clear directives. The cardinals and Chief Inquisitors who received their orders left one by one. Only after everyone was gone did Ismael lower the Papal Scepter he had been gripping tightly, slowly turning to re-enter the small prayer room.

“I have done my best to placate the bishops and Chief Inquisitors and calm their emotions… Your Holiness.”

The Thirteenth Pope, still dressed in the simple gray robe of a low-level cleric, knelt before a stone altar where several copper lamps burned, praying in a low voice. His body was stooped, his hair and beard white. He looked just like an ordinary, aging believer on the verge of death.

“Do not concern yourself too much with this matter… Ismael.”

“The issue you truly need to address right now is that of the believers in the Evil Moon Mountain Range parish who have fallen and summoned a high-level demon to descend…”

“Compared to the probing and provocations of the Federation’s Spellcasters, those ancient Devils who feed on mortal desires are the true grave threat, the ones who can truly shake the faith of our followers and erode my Lord’s authority!”

Chapter 176: An Online Gathering Rife with Undercurrents

Friday arrived in a flash. Long before the official gathering at nine o’clock, the Spellcaster Forum was already swarming with nearly all its members. Small groups formed by various members spent points to open private chat rooms, kicking off lively discussions ahead of schedule.

Harvey no longer needed to use the Magic Net teleportation array’s instant delivery service to ask an acquaintance on the Forum to purchase the Federation’s monthly bulletin for him. With the new, yet-to-be-officially-launched Magic Encyclopedia section, the three Federation Spellcasters responsible for uploads would post the Federation’s official bulletin on time.

In the future, other members who wanted to read the bulletin would only need to pay points, completely eliminating the long wait for delivery services.

In the past, Harvey had to rely on his academy colleague Lambert in Araye to send him the bulletin via a Spell Messenger. But the drawbacks of Spell Messengers were glaringly obvious. While a few thin pages of a letter were fine, carrying something as heavy as a half-book-sized bulletin drastically reduced both its flight speed and its frequency of traversing planes.

At a speed only twice that of an ordinary mail carriage, the delivery was often delayed by nearly a month. This meant Harvey was always reading last month’s outdated content.

Clicking on the first section of the Magic Encyclopedia, Harvey immediately saw the latest issue of the bulletin, released just yesterday. The front page featured the very research paper he had anonymously submitted to the Magic Encyclopedia.

He read and reread the evaluation of his paper, which was placed at the very beginning of the issue. The high praise and affirmation from the Federation’s Chief, Kemer Salas, made the corners of Harvey’s mouth curl up in a soft, self-satisfied chuckle.

No one dislikes sincere praise and compliments, especially a low-rank Necromancer like Harvey, who had countless times encountered all sorts of subtle discrimination.

Although he hadn’t explicitly revealed his identity as a Necromancer in the paper, as a member of the least popular profession among Spellcasters, Harvey was quite satisfied with the achievement his research and theories had garnered.

Without his diligent studies at the Necromancy Academy, where he had been exposed to the research topic of soul forging—a field considered taboo within necromantic theory—Harvey would never have successfully completed the soul transfer experiment on an alchemical lifeform. Nor would he have stumbled upon and deciphered some of the hidden knowledge concerning the Plane of the Magic Net.

It was entirely thanks to this knowledge of the Magic Net, from a field that almost no one had ever set foot in, that he was able to complete his control experiments and write this research paper, which was lauded as both pioneering and subversive.

“The necromantic school’s research into the soul and the Magic Net might give rise to a whole new school of magic in the near future, no longer seen as taboo and profane…”

Harvey closed the Magic Encyclopedia section of the Forum and stretched contentedly. A cup of freshly brewed fruit tea was offered to him from the side. He turned his head to see Astaren, who was bowing slightly and watching him.

On the alchemical lifeform’s unique metal head, a pair of eyes glowed with the deep red fire of his soul. “Allow me to congratulate you, my lord, for your achievements and for the recognition and praise you have received…”

Harvey took the teacup with a smile and said softly, “It’s not just me. It’s you, Rainer, Pierce, and even Egnor who just joined us. This is our collective effort. After all… we are the true fellow travelers.”

…

[The Scorching Sovereign: Everyone, at today’s gathering, we must first congratulate a member of our Forum. I’m sure you are all aware that this gentleman has anonymously published a research paper that combines bold hypotheses with meticulous verification. It has shattered the false beliefs the Church has instilled in the common people for centuries and, more importantly, has opened up a brand-new direction for countless research-type Spellcasters—the practical applications of magical energy in its different manifested forms!]

[Man in the Mirror: @Mr. Kel'Thuzad, congratulations!]

[Son of Flame: @Mr. Kel'Thuzad, my sincerest congratulations! This research paper is a massive slap in the face to the Church. It's a taste of sweet revenge for all the Spellcasters specializing in alchemical potions and bloodline enhancement who have long been slandered and suppressed by them!]

[Stormwalker: By the Arcane! @Mr. Kel'Thuzad, the research you've published will surely be recorded in the Federation's annals of magic. It is, without a doubt, a breakthrough contribution!]

The moment the gathering started, under The Scorching Sovereign’s lead, Harvey was immediately engulfed in a sea of congratulations from the members. Whether they were from the Federation or the wizard kingdoms, or even members who were clearly non-human Elves and Burrowing Dwarves, they all expressed their heartfelt admiration.

Harvey didn’t let it go to his head. He even took a moment to pull up the list of members speaking in the energy-gathering array server and quickly scanned it. He noticed that among the thirty-plus members, a small minority of four or five people had entered the gathering’s chat room but hadn’t said a word.

“It seems these people are clearly pro-Church, or perhaps Spellcasters who are less devout followers. They most likely come from the ancient Spellcaster families of the Seven Wizard Kingdoms—the typical neutral conservative faction.”

In his elementary history of magic course at the Necromancy Academy, Harvey had learned that during the hundred-year war between the Church and the wizards, many Spellcaster families in the Southern Continent’s nations, despite having long wizarding legacies, had sided with the Church. They had acted as “traitors to their kind,” mercilessly helping to encircle and suppress other wizards.

Harvey flicked a switch on his Magic Brain device, quietly marking these silent members with a special symbol for close monitoring.

The Spellcaster Forum would absolutely not tolerate spies or traitors. Even neutral, wavering factions needed to be constantly pressured to sway their stance and allegiance.

Now that the Forum had grown to its current scale, Harvey no longer had high expectations for its secrecy. Rumors were already faintly circulating within the Spellcaster community—that an ancient, non-human being had established a Spellcaster Forum on the Plane of the Magic Net, and only high-level casters were qualified to be invited.

In any case, regardless of the members’ identities in the real world, they were all anonymous on the Forum. There was no need to worry about a member’s real identity being exposed and implicating Harvey, the founder and Administrator. After all, he had wrapped himself in layer after layer of smurf accounts and wasn’t the least bit concerned about being “magically doxxed.”

[Kel'Thuzad: Thank you all for your unreserved praise and compliments! But I must say, the reason this research could be completed and published is entirely thanks to the help and support I received from @Mr. The Scorching Sovereign, @Mr. Son of Flame, and @Mr. Man in the Mirror...]

[Kel’Thuzad: Whether it was with the preliminary theories, the experimental materials, or the collection of test subjects, I am indebted to these gentlemen. Therefore, I’d like to say that this honor belongs to the Spellcaster Forum. This is the very purpose for which Mr. Turing founded this Forum. On the path of magic, it is only through the selfless help and exchange among fellow travelers that we can truly go further…]

Sitting in front of his Magic Brain device, Fell Hoden instantly recalled the academic discussions he’d had with Kel’Thuzad some time ago. Seeing his handle mentioned, he couldn’t help but let out a slightly smug chuckle.

“Heh heh, this guy knows how to play the game. All I did was answer a question about some semi-public Demon intelligence, but I didn’t expect him to actually remember the favor…”

Mr. Son of Flame smoothed his slightly messy red hair, feeling secretly pleased.

“Mr. Kel’Thuzad has always been so humble and sincere; you can’t help but like him. The Quinn brothers have praised him highly for a long time as well. An independent high-level caster like him, so friendly to the Federation yet not a member of any organization or faction—I must find a way to win him over!”

Chapter 177: An Invention That Changes the Course of War

“He… how did you… turn him into this ghastly state?”

Harvey stared wide-eyed at the Demon captive thrown onto the lab table. All four of his limbs had been severed, leaving him the spitting image of a “human stick.”

Egnor took off the protective gloves made from rubber fruit and explained with a smile, “My lord, the enhancement potion you concocted restored his vitality again. And the effects seemed even stronger than what he usually uses. It sent him into a combat Frenzy several times, and he nearly broke the shackles and injured my assistant…”

He casually pointed to the captive’s severed limbs. “So I could only take simple measures to deal with the parts he could attack with. But rest assured, I handled the bleeding and suturing properly. It won’t affect your subsequent experiments…”

Harvey covered his face, speechless. Egnor’s idea of “simple measures” and “eliminating his ability to attack” was to hack him into a “human stick,” ensuring only that the Demon captive didn’t die.

“Then what about his face and skin? How did they end up like this?” Aside from the Demon’s eyes, which remained their normal crimson, his entire face and the skin on his body looked as if they had been corroded and dissolved by a strong acid, congealing into a horrifying, paste-like mess.

“Well… you know that the vile orc tribes retreated back to the ice fields after spring began. The patrol squads have been going out frequently, but they haven’t been able to capture any vile orc test subjects for my potions… I figured you wouldn’t need him for any more potion experiments, so…”

Egnor was still a little guilty about having used his lord’s test subject, but seeing his fanatical attitude toward potion experiments, Harvey suspected he would dare to do it again.

Astaren quickly interjected, coming to the fanatical potion-maker’s defense. “My lord, during the raid on the Mining Area a while ago, many of our soldiers suffered severe burns to their faces and bodies from the fireballs of the Demon dread beasts. Egnor is currently experimenting with a potion that… uh… allows the skin to heal and regenerate on its own…”

Harvey nodded in understanding but couldn’t resist a jab. “It looks like the potion did indeed make the skin heal and grow, but it didn’t do much to restore its original appearance. Egnor, I’d rather our soldiers not recover from their burns only to find themselves permanently disfigured. That would seriously affect their competitiveness in the marriage market.”

With that, he and Astaren burst into unrestrained laughter.

…

After a shamefaced Egnor hurried away, Harvey’s expression turned serious again as he instructed Astaren, “This is the only Demon captive sent by the Federation. We must use him sparingly and try to obtain complete weapon-testing data.”

Astaren nodded to show he understood. In fact, they had already begun research on this energy weapon, designed specifically for Demon soldiers, in parallel with Harvey’s anonymous publication of his research paper.

Harvey had preemptively named it—the Anti-Demon energy weapon!

The inspiration came from the final conclusion of their live subject experiments. Since Demons directly absorb pure magical energy to strengthen themselves, the Energy-devouring beetles—which naturally absorb magical energy—were their primordial natural enemy, a counter to the abundant energy within their bodies.

The innate biological trait of the Energy-devouring beetle was to indiscriminately absorb any substance rich in magical energy they could detect, whether it was the various grades of magic stones Harvey casually tossed out or the natural magic crystal veins buried deep beneath the castle.

If Rainer and Astaren weren’t careful and got too close to the beetles, the creatures could even keenly sense the fluctuations of magical energy leaking from their alchemical bodies and would quickly swarm them, trying to drain their power. The two alchemical lifeforms had nearly been powered down and forced to shut down.

The manufacturing of the Magical Energy Gun required Energy-devouring beetles that had entered their mature stage. At this point, they no longer craved magical energy. Instead, after reproducing and laying eggs, they began to constantly release the pure energy that had been biologically converted within their bodies—a crucial characteristic for creating the Magical Energy Gun.

However, the energy-devouring talent of the juvenile beetles perfectly matched the offensive properties Harvey envisioned for his new weapon. If the souls of beetles from this stage were transferred into an alchemical weapon, using the same method as for the Magical Energy Gun, they could undoubtedly create an Anti-Demon energy weapon that didn’t fire an Energy beam but could rapidly absorb magical energy.

After the territory achieved industrial mass-production of the Magical Energy Gun, Harvey had arranged for the beetle nest to be moved from the upper levels of the Laboratory to the natural, underground mine. This would best satisfy the beetles’ daily need for magical energy, and the massive, energy-rich magic stone pillars served as the most natural feed for them.

Moreover, the underground mine was surrounded by hard rock, preventing the beetles, which could only burrow through soil, from scattering and escaping. He only needed to assign miniaturized Wolf Spider Beasts, fitted with energy-insulating arrays, to care for these gentle, harmless magical insects.

The last time he had gone underground to inspect the beetle cultivation, Harvey recalled that after gaining an unlimited supply of Magical feed, the insects’ reproduction rate had skyrocketed. Their numbers had now swelled to tens of thousands.

“With so many beetles, and mature ones making up a third of them, taking some juveniles to manufacture Anti-Demon weapons won’t affect the production of Magical Energy Guns at all…”

Of course, this was all on the premise that their experiments proved this Anti-Demon weapon could truly be mass-produced. If the manufacturing cost and complexity were too high, it would be impossible to deploy it on a large scale, even with funding from the Federation.

After all, magical weapons could be sold for export, but the raw material at the core of the territory’s magical technology—the Energy-devouring beetles—absolutely could not be leaked!

…

Zzzzzzt—

Harvey leveled a metal rod, its entire body engraved with silver inscriptions, and pulled the trigger mechanism beneath it, aiming at the left shoulder of the Demon “human stick” tied to a wooden frame.

A spray of blood immediately burst from the test subject’s right shoulder. However, the shoulder didn’t shatter on impact as it would have from a Magical Energy Gun. Instead, the projectile was hindered by the tough scales on its body, merely blasting open a tearing wound.

“See? Attacks from a Magical Energy Gun against their scale-covered bodies have a hard time penetrating and causing direct damage…” Harvey said with a slight cough, perfectly concealing the fact that his marksmanship was terrible.

Astaren walked directly over to the Demon test subject. He observed the spot torn open by the magic stone ammunition and saw that the wound, which should have been bleeding profusely, was beginning to carbonize and wither from the inside. Along with it, the muscles, blood vessels, and skin of the entire right arm also began to atrophy and stiffen.

“A weapon modified with juvenile beetles fires magic stone ammunition that, upon entering the target’s body, directly absorbs the abundant magical energy within. This causes the injured area to exhibit a state that only appears after potion withdrawal…”

Astaren used a pair of needle-nose pliers to reach into the test subject’s wound and extract the magic stone ammunition lodged in the shoulder blade. He found that the projectile’s originally pure, transparent white color had turned into a translucent, light blue.

The Anti-Demon energy weapon definitely had a targeted and devastating effect on Demon soldiers who used enhancement potions!

Chapter 178: Visitors from Araye

Harvey sat in his study in the castle, sipping a warm fruit tea just delivered by a guard, while listening to Rainer report on the recent work of the City Hall.

“President George Santos of the Dragonstone Merchant Guild has already urged us for the third time, asking when we can sign the sales order for the next batch of Magic Stone Steam Engines.”

“Oh? Has the first batch of twenty been delivered to him already?” Harvey was a little surprised. Two months ago, the director of the Industrial Department had taken the opportunity during Harvey’s inspection of the new industrial park to secretly complain to him that the iron ore supply from the mines was insufficient. This caused many factories to suffer from a lack of raw materials, reducing their production efficiency to the point where they no longer needed to schedule three shifts a day. They were in a desperate state, waiting for resources to arrive.

Rainer said excitedly, “That’s right. We delivered the entire first batch of Magic Stone Steam Engines he ordered ahead of schedule, before the start of spring, and we’ve received the full payment of three thousand gold pounds… Heh heh, the Dragonstone Merchant Guild is extremely satisfied with the machines’ efficiency. They want to purchase another batch to cover all their mines in Oland!”

Rainer was most enthusiastic about this kind of export trade for the territory’s goods, mainly because he was currently in charge of the territory’s finances and municipal affairs. Aside from printing paper gold yuan for internal circulation, all materials the territory lacked for production and daily life had to be purchased from abroad with real gold and silver coins from Harvey’s own private coffers.

This was equivalent to saying that a large portion of the daily life of the territory’s population of over ten thousand still depended on Harvey for support. Seeing his lord’s once-full private treasury gradually being depleted, Rainer had always felt incredibly distressed.

Now that the territory could produce valuable goods for external sale and increase the City Hall’s revenue—although it couldn’t compare to the profits from plundering vile orcs and Demons—it was still a cause for celebration. It meant that under his management, the territory could finally start earning money for my lord Harvey!

“Approve another order for twenty units for them. Don’t feed them too well, Rainer. Who knows, those cunning merchants might just turn around and sell the magic stone engines we worked so hard to build to someone else for double the price!”

Having followed Harvey the longest, Rainer was no longer as honest and naive as he once was. A cunning laugh that sounded like grinding metal rasped from his throat. “Heh heh, My lord, I know what you mean. It’s called… hunger marketing! Right?”

Harvey laughed and shot Rainer a look before asking, “How’s the training going for that group of skilled workers we pulled from the magic stone engine factory and the Foundry? I want to see them officially start working in the transportation factory next month!”

Mimicking Harvey’s habit, Rainer slapped his forehead and said with a grin, “By the end of the month! They’ll have completed their production line process training by the end of the month. The transportation factory is already finished, and the production line is being assembled as we speak!”

With that, he bowed and hurriedly left the castle to return to City Hall.

Astaren, who had been standing to the side with no intention of getting involved in these trivial matters, only spoke slowly after Rainer had left. “My lord, that group… of alchemists and apprentices that the Alchemical Exploration Society agreed to hand over to us arrived in the wizard kingdom of Da’ers a week ago. They’ve been waiting there for some time under the care of the Dragonstone Merchant Guild. The guild’s people asked me to pass on a message inquiring when you will arrange for people to bring them to the territory.”

Harvey slapped his forehead, only then remembering that he’d almost completely forgotten about this group of high-end alchemical talent that he’d acquired by selling his blood… no, selling Pierce’s blood.

“What? They’ve already reached Da’ers?” Harvey stood up in pleasant surprise. “If we send people to get them today, how long will it take for them to reach the territory?”

Astaren said helplessly, “Entering the south, we certainly can’t use a vehicle like a War Beast. It’s far too conspicuous and would attract the attention of the nobles and the Federation. The mountain roads aren’t suitable for carriages either. We can only escort them here on foot. It will probably take about three days…”

Transportation was a big problem…

He wondered if these frail alchemists and apprentices could endure the climb over the towering Raven Ridge and the trek through the dense, rugged primeval forests of the Northern Realm to arrive safely in the pioneer territories.

“For the journey from Da’ers to Jackdaw Town, just hire a few carriages for them. Once they reach my depot in Jackdaw Town, they can cross the mountains on foot…”

…

A group that had traversed Raven Ridge on foot after a long journey was now slowly and arduously making its way toward the south gate of the territory wall, which had just come into view.

Most of the group consisted of teenagers, about fifteen or sixteen years old, dressed in dark brown short robes. They walked with dirt-smudged faces and limps, occasionally needing a helping hand from the Northern Army soldiers accompanying them.

On the back of the half-orc officer, Dav, was a young man in his early twenties with short blond hair. He wore a set of lace-up robes that, despite being a bit dusty, were clearly made of luxurious material with gold-thread embroidery—this was a junior alchemist, officially certified by the Alchemical Exploration Society.

Ever since the towering, five-meter-high wall had appeared in their sights, Chris had been in a daze, murmuring incessantly, “Beyond the border… in the northern barren lands, there’s actually such a massive pioneer territory? Which descendant of a hereditary noble family accomplished such a great feat here?”

He subconsciously turned his head to look back at the young apprentices following closely behind, whom he had brought all this way. He found that their expressions were a mixture of shock and confusion.

Although the journey over the high mountains was arduous, these children had followed along without a single complaint. No one cried out about their misery. This resilience was enough to support them in their steady advance on the path of alchemy.

Only him… his own frail body couldn’t handle the rugged journey. He had barely made it halfway up the southern slope before carelessly spraining his ankle, forcing him to trouble this ugly yet sturdy officer to carry him all the way to the pioneer territories.

At this thought, Chris squinted his eyes in extreme shame. He couldn’t help but shift his body and ask the officer carrying him, “Officer, do you know which descendant of a hereditary royal family is responsible for the pioneering achievement of this magnificent territory?”

Dav was hurrying along with his head down and hadn’t expected the feather-light beanpole on his back to suddenly speak. But he couldn’t make sense of the question at all and could only mumble a gruff reply, “Hereditary? Royal family? Pioneering achievement? I have no idea!”

He lifted his chin, gesturing for the “Mr. Beanpole” to look at the city gate close at hand, and said proudly, “This is the Lord’s fief, and my home… My house is two stories high, with six whole rooms!”

Chris was momentarily speechless. After a pause, he continued to ask, “I wasn’t asking about your house… I mean, which Lord is it? What is his title and rank?”

Dav froze for a moment, then turned his head to look at him as if he were an idiot. “The Lord is the Lord. And what’s a ‘title and rank’ anyway?”

Chapter 179: Where Did This Country Bumpkin Come From?

The south gate of the pioneer territories’ city wall faced the foot of Raven Ridge’s northern slope. It was usually the quietest gate, with no queues of refugees waiting for screening to enter the city.

Today, however, a small group of people was already standing at the south gate, waving vigorously at Dav, Chris, and the others from a distance.

Chris, feeling a bit embarrassed to be carried on Dav’s back, immediately struggled to get down. Limping, he was helped by an apprentice as he approached the group that was clearly there to welcome him.

A young man dressed in an off-white robe, his thick hair tied back in a half-ponytail, stepped forward with a smile and shook Chris’s hand. “You must be Mr. Chris,” he greeted him warmly. “A truly young and promising Alchemist. I am the director of the pioneer territories’ infirmary, Egnor Medros.”

“I am Chris Byrd. A pleasure, Me…” As they exchanged pleasantries face-to-face, Chris suddenly noticed a pair of pointed ears at Egnor’s temples, on either side of his tied-back hair. One of them was even slightly damaged, as if half of it had been sliced off by some sharp object. “Mr. Medros…”

He… he was a half-elf.

The noble Lord of this pioneer territory was audacious, brazenly sheltering a half-elf and even allowing him to parade about so openly, with no intention of hiding his identity.

Didn’t the Elven kingdom have a strict treaty with the various nations and the Federation, absolutely forbidding anyone from sheltering or aiding these mixed-blood descendants, who were accused of polluting the Elven bloodline?

Only then did Chris recall that the leader of the private soldiers sent to meet them in the remote Jackdaw Town, the officer named Dav, was also a half-orc. Yet he had seemed completely unconcerned with his lowly status, shouting commands to his human soldiers all along the way, and he even seemed to be quite respected and liked by them.

This vast and secret pioneer territory, located beyond the kingdom’s borders north of the Spine of the Continent Mountains, was truly a chaotic mix in terms of its population.

Egnor, however, paid no mind to Chris’s astonished gaze and continued his enthusiastic reception. “Come, let’s first complete the information registration at the gate. I will be in charge of hosting you during this time, so please feel free to ask me any questions you may have.”

Chris nodded in understanding. Registering upon entry was a form of identity check that many closed-off territories with martial law or curfews would enforce. Even if the Lord himself didn’t care, the territory’s guard and patrol units wouldn’t easily pass up this lucrative opportunity. After all, the entry fees collected from those entering and leaving the territory were a hefty source of extra income.

“Name, age, origin, and area of expertise?” The City Hall clerk stationed at the south gate, who rarely saw even one outsider entering the city in a day, was now on high alert.

“Chris Byrd, twenty-one years old, from Araye. I specialize in… uh, alchemy.” As he spoke, he took a gold pound he had prepared from his coin purse, placed it gently on the table, and pushed it toward the clerk with his finger. “Sir, I and the fifteen apprentices I’ve brought with me all need to be registered for entry…”

The clerk stared at the gold coin he pushed forward, blinking in confusion. “Foreign currency? No, no, no, you’ve got it wrong. I’m only responsible for registering your basic information here. If you want to exchange for the territory’s gold yuan, you have to go to the bank next to City Hall!”

Chris was also stunned. Hearing the man tell him to exchange currency made his heart pound in terror. Good heavens, the Lord of this pioneer territory was… was even privately minting his own currency and openly circulating it within his domain!

This was a capital offense that would surely get you captured and hanged by the royal families of the south!

He didn’t dare press the matter. His face beet red, he stammered, “No, no, I don’t wish to exchange for the territory’s currency… I, I was just paying you the, uh… the entry tax.”

The clerk burst out laughing, winking as he explained, “Who told you there’s an entry tax? What kind of ridiculous rule is that? Aren’t taxes deducted from everyone’s salary in advance?”

Chris kept his mouth shut, not daring to reply. He turned his head and looked pleadingly at Egnor, who was waiting a short distance away.

“Alright, alright, this young gentleman is new to the Northern Realm and isn’t familiar with our rules and regulations. Hurry up and get him registered so we can go in!”

The clerk scratched his head and replied respectfully, “Understood, Mr. Egnor!”

…

Clutching a stack of small paper cards, Chris followed Egnor in a daze, his ears pricked as Egnor effusively explained the basic situation in the territory.

“Once you’ve settled into your lodgings, distribute these cards to everyone you brought with you. Make sure not to lose them. Otherwise, if you run into a spot identity check by the Defense Force or the Police Department, you’ll be considered unregistered and taken away for a ‘cup of tea’.”

A cup of tea? Chris keenly noted the oddity in his phrasing. After a moment of deliberation, he asked in a low voice, “My lord… allows high-ranking officers of the territory to privately associate with alchemists like us?”

This time, it was Egnor’s turn to be stunned. “Privately associate? Hahaha! I’m sorry, when I said ‘have tea,’ I meant you’d be arrested and taken to the Police Department for questioning, not that they’d actually invite you for tea!”

For a moment, the two men walking side by side were both a bit embarrassed, feeling as though they were on completely different wavelengths.

After a while, Chris couldn’t hold back any longer and spoke first. “Mr. Medros, I was wondering when I might be able to have a formal audience with the Lord?”

He paused, then asked with some hesitation, “And… I still do not know the Lord’s esteemed name…”

“Hahaha, no matter. Just call him ‘My lord,’ like I do. Only the city manager and chief advisor, who are closer to him, and the commander of the territory’s army would dare use His Lordship’s real name…”

Egnor stroked his stubbled chin and continued, “My orders were to receive you and your party and arrange accommodations for you to settle in. I know nothing of anything else… Perhaps tomorrow, the chief advisor will meet with you.”

The two walked at the head of the group, chatting idly as they went. Soon, they arrived before a two-story building.

“Alright, this is the lodging assigned to you. The folks at the Construction Department said this place is called… a guesthouse. Heh, it’s specifically for temporary residence for visitors like you from the south.”

Chris looked around and realized that he had walked along an exceptionally straight road from the city gate to this spot. The road surface was paved with a material that looked like slag and gravel, which had been compacted and hardened by a stone roller, making it exceptionally smooth without a single pothole.

Tall, dense trees were planted on both sides of the road, giving the entire street a lush, green, and spacious appearance.

One of the apprentices couldn’t help but sigh softly, “Compared to Araye, this place isn’t all that different, except that all the houses have neat, gray walls…”

Someone in the distance called out loudly, “Mr. Egnor! Mr. Egnor! What brings you to the municipal district today?”

Chris squinted and saw several soldiers in dark gray uniforms and leather felt hats walking briskly toward them with smiles.

Wait! His eyes narrowed as he noticed something was wrong.

The soldier in the lead… one of his trouser legs was rolled up… revealing a mechanical prosthetic leg that gleamed with the luster of brass, its surface covered in strange patterns.

As he strode forward, the metal leg moved and bent with the flexibility of a real leg, making it impossible to tell from his gait that he was an amputee.

No! Impossible! The Esoteric Society had conducted countless experiments grafting and integrating alchemical devices with living tissue, and it was simply impossible to achieve a perfect fusion between an alchemical prosthetic and its host, to make it move as naturally as one’s own limb. Not to mention, the recipients of those grafting experiments would all later suffer from festering sores at the graft site and a complete malfunction of the metal limb, forcing them to endure the torture of another amputation to prevent the necrotic wound from causing a fatal infection.

“This is impossible! How… how was this done?” Chris’s eyes suddenly flew wide open. He lunged forward, dropped to his knees before the soldier, and cupped the man’s agile metal leg in his hands. “Why can your metal leg bend and straighten so flexibly?” he asked, his voice trembling. “How does it allow you to maintain your balance while walking?”

His gaze traveled up the metal prosthetic, and he reached up, trying to pull down the man’s uniform trousers. “Where is the graft site on your severed limb? Is it not necrotic and festering?”

Max, shocked, quickly grabbed his belt to keep his pants from being pulled down. He drew the metal baton from his waist and raised it to bring it down on the top of the madman’s head who had lunged at him to pull off his pants. Fortunately, Egnor was quick enough to stop him.

“Don’t! He’s an Alchemist from the south!”

Max pursed his lips and slowly lowered his baton. He glanced at Egnor, then down at the… perverted young man who was clinging to his leg and muttering to himself. He couldn’t help but mumble.

“Where did this country bumpkin come from? Why did he try to pull my pants off the moment he saw me?”

Chapter 180: True Soul Forging

Even after Egnor forcefully pulled him into the guesthouse, Chris lingered reluctantly at the window, pressing his face tightly against the glass to watch the soldier with the prosthetic limb walk away, muttering curses as he went.

“Mr. Medeiros, that soldier… his name is Max, right? I implore you, tell me where he lives, and who was it that fitted him with that alchemical prosthetic.”

Egnor pulled him over to a chair in the first-floor hall and patiently soothed him, “Mr. Chris, please calm down. Now that you’ve signed a contract with my lord, we’re all colleagues. I will answer any questions you have in detail.”

He gestured around, continuing, “This guesthouse has two floors with a total of eight rooms. They are double rooms, which should be just enough for your group. There are washrooms and bathing rooms on both floors…”

“If you need to go out, be sure to bring your temporary identification cards. However, it’s best not to leave the municipal district. We… the residents here, aren’t too fond of outsiders. That soldier you just saw—his actual post is as a police officer in the territory’s Police Department. Patrollers like him wander through every district day and night. If they find someone without identification, they’ll cuff them and take them straight to a holding cell at the Police Department to spend the night.”

He explained everything in detail, but found Chris was still in a daze, muttering to himself. He couldn’t help but sigh, “Mr. Chris, if you’re truly that interested in alchemical prosthetics, there’s no need to rush. Many police officers and soldiers in the territory were wounded and disabled in the war and have undergone this type of prosthetic transplant experiment.”

Chris instantly snapped out of it. He shot to his feet, gripped Egnor’s hands tightly, and said earnestly, “Please let me see the Lord as soon as possible, Mr. Medeiros!”

Just then, Dav hurried over with a personal guard and thrust a slip of paper into Egnor’s hand. He glanced at it quickly and immediately smiled.

“What a coincidence, Mr. Chris. His Lordship has already received news of your arrival, but…” As he spoke, he handed the note to Chris.

Chris quickly took it, unfolded it, and squinted as he read it carefully.

“Welcome to my territory, Mr. Alchemist from Araye.”

“I hear you’re very interested in the improved live transplant surgery for alchemical prosthetics. To be honest, in this field of research, I’m sure the genius alchemists of the Alchemical Exploration Society have gone through a much more complex and lengthy experimental process. I’ve only made some minor improvements and upgrades, along with a little sudden inspiration… If you want to know the specific answers, I will be waiting to meet with you at the Lord’s Castle in three days.”

Chris clutched the note, his body going limp as he sank back into his chair. He subconsciously glanced at the grandfather clock by the hall wall and muttered with a wry smile, “These will be the longest three days of my life.”

…

For the next three days, Chris didn’t take a single step out of the guesthouse. He also strictly forbade the dozen or so apprentices he had brought with him from leaving, ensuring they all stayed quietly in their comfortable rooms in the two-story building and didn’t venture out to cause unnecessary trouble.

After calming down and thinking it over, he understood the true meaning behind what Mr. Medeiros, the man in charge of his reception, had said about “the local residents not liking outsiders.”

This pioneer territory, located in the barren lands of the north, held too many previously unknown secrets. This was also why his two mentors, when arranging for him to come here, had emphasized that the other party required a secrecy contract to be signed.

But none of that mattered. After personally witnessing a successful live alchemical modification, nothing else could capture his interest.

When he was finally led by several personal guards into the pioneer territory’s Lord’s Castle and met the author of that note, Chris was still a little surprised.

He patiently performed the proper etiquette for a Spellcaster meeting a noble. But before he had even settled into his chair, he asked impatiently, “My lord, please allow me to make a presumptuous request. I wish to speak with your alchemist face-to-face!”

“Alchemist?” Harvey chuckled. “What alchemist? To this day, you are the only alchemist in my territory, and you’ve only just arrived.”

He gestured for a servant to bring two cups of warm fruit tea and explained in a gentle tone, “It is precisely because I lack alchemical talents like you that I reached an agreement with the two gentlemen from the Esoteric Society to have them recommend you to me.”

Chris froze on the spot, teacup in hand. He quickly pulled the crumpled note, which he had read over and over, from his coat and stammered, “Are you saying… are you saying that the alchemical body transplant mentioned on this note… you did it all yourself?”

Only then did he raise his head to carefully observe this pioneer lord, who was close to his own age and appeared thin and frail. He noticed the lord’s face was pale, his lean and scholarly features marked by two enormous dark circles under his eyes. His pupils were filled with faint red veins, making him look weak and exhausted.

“You… you are a Spellcaster?” Chris asked, almost in disbelief. “A research-type Spellcaster?”

Harvey nodded with a smile. “That’s right. I am an orthodox, academy-trained Spellcaster, but I have a keen interest in alchemy and have indeed made some insignificant achievements in the field…”

Chris immediately stood up and once again performed the ancient wizard’s salute used between Spellcasters to distinguish rank, saying in a low voice, “If you call successfully completing live alchemical transplant experiments an ‘insignificant achievement,’ then a junior alchemist like me is worse than useless swine.”

The lord who had hired him was also a Spellcaster well-versed in the ways of alchemy. This put Chris in an awkward position, unsure if he should still ask to discuss the experimental details and secrets of the successful live alchemical transplants.

Although alchemists as a group weren’t as fixated on clans and factions as traditional Spellcasters, when it came to such advanced, high-rank alchemical secrets and related knowledge, most would be unwilling to share it readily with their peers.

Harvey, however, immediately noticed his hesitation and spoke up. “You want to understand how I achieved a perfect live alchemical transplant experiment, right?”

“Since you’ve already signed a secrecy contract with me and agreed to work for me for five years without compensation, I’m willing to share my knowledge on the subject with you…”

He smiled and waved his hand, stopping Chris, who, with an ecstatic expression, was about to stand up and bow again.

“Before we discuss the alchemical experiments in detail, I want you to meet my two assistants first. Perhaps after you see them in person, you’ll change your mind and no longer be interested in the mere technique of prosthetic transplants…”

As Harvey spoke, he pressed an alchemical calling device next to his chair. After a crisp, simulated bronze bell rang, two sets of heavy footsteps approached simultaneously—one from the entrance of the castle hall and the other from the turn of the staircase leading to the second floor.

Chris looked left and right and immediately saw two alchemical bodies, shimmering with a metallic sheen and exuding a powerful mechanical aesthetic, walking quickly towards him.

The alchemical body with deep red crystals gleaming in its eye sockets stopped in front of Chris and spoke abruptly, its voice carrying a slight metallic rasp, “Welcome, young alchemist from the south. I am my lord Harvey’s chief advisor, Astaren…”

The other alchemical body, standing at his side, also spoke up. “Hello, Mr. Alchemist. I am my lord Harvey’s Chief Administrator. You can just call me Rainer.”

Chris slid from his high-backed chair to the floor with a whoosh, landing on his knees with an expression of utter terror. “Miracles above! This… this… this is… this is a soul… a soul construct!”

Harvey honestly hadn’t expected to frighten him so badly. He hurriedly got up to help him, explaining, “That’s right. I wanted to tell you that, beyond mere prosthetic transplants, I have actually succeeded in the crucial experiment of transferring the soul of an intelligent being into an alchemical construct…”

As he spoke, he tried to pull up the young alchemist who had slid to his knees and crumpled to the floor. He gave a hard tug, but the man didn’t budge at all. Looking down, Harvey saw that Chris’s eyes had already rolled back into his head; he had fainted on the spot.

Chapter 181: Observer Neumann

When Kemer Salas walked into the document room, the three high-rank Spellcasters responsible for the Magic Encyclopedia’s cataloging work quickly rose to greet him.

He gave a casual wave of his hand, signaling for them to continue their work, and sat down at an unused Magic Brain console to review the documents that had already been uploaded.

“Once this last batch of documents delivered today is cataloged, the foundational content of the Magic Encyclopedia will be more or less complete…”

The Federation’s Chief looked at the crystal screen, where various documents were neatly organized and cataloged by different schools of magic, and nodded with satisfaction.

An extensive collection of universal spell structures and analyses for seventh to ninth-circle spells…

High-level theoretical and research documents covering major schools of magic like Elemental, Arcane, and Nature…

High-level alchemical secrets and knowledge of alchemical potions, publicly released and submitted by the Alchemical Exploration Society…

Complete data on a vast number of rare magical materials, including minerals, plants, and creatures…

Salas suddenly spoke up, “Why don’t I see any documents related to necromancy in the encyclopedia? Did you miss them during the review process?”

Hunter quickly stood up and explained, a bit flustered, “Lord Chief, in recent years, there have been far too few research papers and findings from the school of necromancy that qualify to pass the review…”

He paused, then picked up the paper checklist he had organized and consulted it for a moment. “The last necromancy document that passed the Review Council, was successfully published in the Federation’s official bulletin, and was included by us, was back in the Year of Glory 569. That was twelve years ago.”

Salas took the document catalog from Hunter and immediately spotted the entry marked as belonging to the school of necromancy. Among the host of papers on Elemental, Arcane, Nature, and Alchemy, it stood out, looking particularly solitary.

“An Analysis of the Fluctuation and Activity Cycles of Death Energy in the Magic Net,” author—Julian Aziz.

It was an exceptionally unfamiliar name for a Spellcaster; clearly, he was not well-known, as Salas had no impression of him at all.

Hunter, however, introduced him with practiced ease. “This gentleman is a mid-rank Arcane Caster officially registered with the Federation, employed as a junior instructor at the Oland Royal Magic Academy.”

“An Arcane Caster? Why would he publish a paper on necromancy?” Salas frowned.

Hunter responded cautiously, “He was originally a formally trained Necromancer who graduated from the Farlos Necromancy Academy. It’s just… well, you know their reputation and treatment within the Spellcaster community aren’t exactly favorable. So, he later switched his research focus to arcane theory. However, he has quite a talent for arcane research as well. After publishing two papers, he was successfully hired by the Oland Royal Magic Academy as a junior instructor.”

Salas grunted, not intending to press the issue further.

Since its founding, the Federation has developed to its current state, and the number of registered high-rank Necromancers could be counted on two hands. There wasn’t a single one who had ever obtained the rank of Legendary.

This niche school of magic, which perennially dealt with corpses and death, had always been a target of discrimination, its talent pool withering away.

“Review them again. The necromancy documents you screened out, add them back in…” Salas said before standing to leave. “Since we claim it is a Magic Encyclopedia, it must truly live up to its name, containing everything and leaving nothing out…”

…

After returning to his private study on the top floor, Salas quickly entered a brief guided meditation to stabilize his mental state. He planned to begin work on a new research paper—his inspiration came from the comparative experiment content that the Forum member Kel’Thuzad had published a few days ago.

He casually summoned a Hand of Control, which picked up a quill pen fully dipped in ink. Just as he was about to put the pen to paper and start the draft, the door to the study was thrust open with a bang.

Dawson, short in stature and sporting a comical brandy nose, rushed in. Levitating behind him with an invisible Mage Hand was a tall, full-length mirror, which looked almost like a shield hovering in the air behind him.

Salas fought back the urge to yell at him. Besides Dawson, another Legendary Caster, no one else had the ability to instantly break the restraining ward on his study door and barge in so rudely to disturb his work.

“Are you mad, Dawson? What are you doing running to my place with a mirror on your back?”

The full-length mirror behind Dawson floated down on its own, landing steadily on the floor. Within the mirror, the familiar figure of the black-robed Chief, Wes Gallagher, appeared.

“Salas, it’s me. I had Dawson come find you immediately.”

Salas frowned. “What’s wrong? Did something urgent happen in the Evil Moon Mountain Range or Blackstone City?”

Gallagher stood up in the mirror, pressing his entire body against its surface, and whispered with extreme urgency, “That… Mr. Observer Neumann, he suddenly contacted me privately.”

“He sent me… a very strange magic artifact through the Magic Net Forum’s instantaneous teleportation array!”

The black-robed Chief produced a strangely shaped, short silver metal staff from behind him and held it up to the mirror to show Salas and Dawson. “Look, this is the artifact.”

“It looks like an ordinary staff forged from silver. The inscriptions on it… hmm, they seem to represent energy gathering and strengthening.”

Dawson asked, puzzled, “I don’t see anything unusual. This short staff looks like one of the common, mass-produced items from the Esoteric Society. The inscriptions on it only provide a simple spell enhancement effect.”

Gallagher shook his head, his expression complicated as he pulled several small, finger-sized, pure-white crystals from his robe. “Now, look at these.”

Salas scoffed outright. “Just worthless magic crystal fragments from a charged magic stone after its energy is depleted. What’s so special about them? Gallagher, stop keeping us in suspense.”

The black-robed Chief chuckled grimly. He inserted the pure-white crystals into a groove on the thicker end of the silver staff, then stood up, guiding the mirror’s perspective to follow his movements.

He was currently inside the high-level laboratory in Blackstone City, which was for the exclusive use of the Federation’s Chief.

Dawson and Salas watched the scene in the full-length mirror in silence. They saw him slowly walk up to a bound Demon captive, raise the silver staff level, and aim one end at the captive. He seemed to press some kind of trigger, and an ethereal white light, as fast as lightning, shot out from the head of the staff, striking the Demon’s shoulder.

Gallagher immediately walked over to the Demon captive and pointed to the shoulder wound inflicted by the spell from the staff.

Salas and Dawson were instantly astonished to see that the wound, which had been gushing blood, began to decay and wither in an instant. The Demon captive’s once muscular shoulder, from the skin to the muscles, tendons, and blood vessels, and even the bone, began to carbonize, as if it had been scorched by intense flames for a long time!

After waiting for about a minute, Gallagher raised a finger and gently poked the unconscious Demon’s shoulder. The Demon’s entire arm, from the shoulder down, instantly crumbled into dust like weathered and eroded rotted wood, completely disintegrating and separating from the torso.

Gallagher turned his head to look at his two old friends outside the mirror, his voice thick with suppressed excitement.

“After Mr. Observer Neumann gave me this artifact, He only made one simple, understated request… for me to help Him test… the weapon’s specific power…”

Chapter 182: Master, I Want to Learn True Alchemy!

Chris and Harvey’s second meeting took place two days after he had lost his composure and fainted in the Lord’s Castle. This time, he had mentally prepared himself completely, striving not to embarrass himself too much in front of the Lord.

“My lord… No, perhaps I shouldn’t address you with a worldly title. On the path of alchemy, you have far surpassed the high-rank and Chief alchemists of the Esoteric Society who are called geniuses… You’ve touched… the ultimate…”

Chris suppressed the tremor in his voice and lowered his head humbly. “I should call you Master… a true Master Alchemist!”

Harvey let out a soft laugh, not particularly minding the other man’s heartfelt compliment. “There’s no need for that. Although I’ve never met your two mentors, we’re deeply connected, and they’ve been a great help to my alchemical experiments.”

Chris looked up, his gaze fervent as he pleaded, “Lord, please let me follow you and learn true alchemy! The ultimate alchemical secrets involving Life Alchemy and soul constructs are the ultimate ideal I’ve pursued my entire life…”

As he spoke, he took out his copy of the Magical Contract from his coat and tremblingly handed it to Harvey. “I am willing to give anything for this, I don’t even need to abide by this five-year secrecy contract. As long as I can touch that ultimate knowledge, even if you need me to serve you for life, I will have no regrets…”

In truth, Harvey had never planned on letting this batch of young alchemical talent, delivered right to his doorstep, leave freely and return to Araye to benefit the Alchemical Exploration Society after five years of his training.

When the time came, he would naturally use every means possible to keep them in his territory, employing everything from the carrot and the stick to coercion and enticement.

However, firmly securing the loyalty of this leading young Alchemist so early on was, of course, for the best.

At this thought, Harvey couldn’t help but tease, “What if the price for learning these secrets is that even after your life has ended, your soul would still be extracted by me, transformed into a cold alchemical construct, and made to work and serve me without end? Can you accept such a price?”

Chris froze for a moment, then blurted out instinctively, “Ah? There’s such a good deal? My lord, you… you’re promising now… that you will grant me… eternal life… in an alchemical form?”

This completely unexpected response almost made Harvey spit out the mouthful of hot tea he had just taken.

Well, well, well. I thought it was a punishment, but to him, it’s a reward, isn’t it!

He could only do his best to hide his loss of composure, hastily glossing over it, “Don’t be so anxious. I’m not promising you anything right now… As for eternal life and such, that will depend on your work performance over the next five years.”

As he spoke, he pulled a thin booklet from his coat and had an attendant pass it to Chris, who had yet to calm his emotions.

“Take a look. These are the work objectives you’ll need to devote your energy to achieving for me for a long time to come. At the same time, you must also shoulder the great responsibility of training the batch of alchemy apprentices you brought with you…”

Harvey sipped his tea and continued giving instructions leisurely, “Three months. I’m only giving you this much time. After three months, I need those fifteen alchemy apprentices to be competent enough to serve as technical consultants in the territory’s various industrial production departments.”

Chris flipped open the booklet in utter confusion, muttering its contents under his breath in a daze.

“Bicycle research, design, and industrial mass-production plan…”

“Rubber tire molding experiments and production schedule…”

“Project for full coverage of magical energy lighting facilities in the pioneer territories…”

The more the young Alchemist read, the more bewildered he became. The contents of the booklet made him start to question his very identity as an Alchemist. “Are… are all these tasks really things that require an Alchemist’s participation?”

He scratched his head in dismay, muttering, “I… I’ve never studied any related knowledge in the past. I have no… not a single bit of experience.”

Harvey spread his hands and smiled. “That’s why you need to learn from me. As the saying goes, apply what you’ve learned. That’s the principle.”

“Don’t sell yourself short or doubt your understanding of alchemy and your own talent just yet. For the next five years, you will need to devote yourself wholeheartedly to working for me. I will pay you a generous salary, equivalent to that of a high-rank technical consultant in the territory.”

“Secondly, whether you wish to stay here long-term or still abide by the five-year agreement we signed before, you must strictly adhere to the confidentiality regulations and not disclose any information about the territory to anyone else.”

“If you accept these harsh conditions I’ve proposed, the territory will provide you with official- Mresidence and an independent alchemy Laboratory. Also, when you have free time after completing your daily tasks, I will personally teach you the principles of alchemy.”

Before Harvey’s voice had even faded, Chris’s eyes turned red and filled with tears. How were these harsh conditions? He would receive a generous salary, live in a comfortable house like the guesthouse, and even have an independent laboratory set up just for him!

Most importantly, he would be able to follow this Master Alchemist and learn the ultimate secrets of the alchemical path—knowledge concerning Life Alchemy and soul constructs!

Chris could feel his heart pounding wildly. If his performance was satisfactory enough, he might even have the chance to undergo the sacred soul transformation and become the immortal construct that alchemists dreamed of!

“Chris Byrd is willing to serve you for life, Lord!” Chris bowed piously once more.

Harvey wasn’t particularly concerned with the cumbersome etiquette between Spellcasters. He waved his hand and said, “Your alchemy Laboratory will be built next to Egnor’s infirmary. Hmm… that would be the half-elf Mr. who received you. You two will need to spend a lot of time together in the future, as much of your work will require cooperation. He is a magic potion master skilled in concocting potions, you two should have a lot in common.”

Chris said excitedly, “Is the alchemy Laboratory already prepared? My lord, I can start work at any time!”

He quickly flipped through the work manual Harvey had given him and asked incoherently, “I don’t know, which task should I start with?”

Harvey stood up with a smile, walked closer, and pointed his finger at the contents of the booklet. “Let’s start with the molding experiments and mass production of rubber tires…”

“What… is rubber? And what… is a tire?”

“It’s a special fruit from a plant that grows only in the Northern Barren Lands. You’ve probably never heard of it before. Its material properties are quite magical… As for the specifics, Egnor will explain them to you in detail when you meet him.”

At this point, Harvey changed the subject with great interest, looking at Chris. “I heard that during your time working at the Esoteric Society in Araye, you were particularly interested in… unconventional alchemical constructs that… improve the quality of life for the masses?”

Chris’s face flushed with shame as he said in a small voice, “Those were just my wild fantasies. As you know, alchemical constructs are not to be casually used on common civilians. This has always been a strict rule…”

Harvey couldn’t help but laugh out loud. He clapped Chris firmly on the shoulder and encouraged him, “Here, you don’t have to follow those old-fashioned, bullshit rules. Besides the work arranged in this manual, if you have any spare time, you can wholeheartedly pursue those interesting experimental ideas of yours. As long as it’s an alchemical invention that benefits the people’s quality of life, I will give you my full support and even give you an additional reward for your inventions and creations!”

Chapter 183: Public Entertainment

On a sunny afternoon, Harvey squeezed some time out of his lunch break to meet with Yuliao Ferguson, the Probationary Superintendent from the Police Department, in the study of the castle. Yuliao had come to report on his work.

The former Probationary Knight still maintained the decorum befitting his station. He wore a crisp, clean, dark gray Police Department uniform. The shoulders, collar, and cuffs were embroidered with silver thread patterns, and a star-shaped insignia, also embroidered with silver thread, was sewn on the left side of his chest, signifying his rank as a superintendent.

He refused the high-backed chair Harvey had someone bring for him, standing ramrod straight with his hands clasped behind his back. He looked straight ahead as he reported the key points of the Police Department’s recent work to Harvey.

“My lord, during our recent nightly patrols, we have frequently encountered residents loitering around the Residential Area while drunk. They often gather to sing loudly or carouse wildly late into the night, causing a great deal of public discontent…”

Yuliao quickly straightened the tightly buttoned collar of his uniform with his mechanical prosthetic, paused for a moment, and continued, “I believe a prohibition on alcohol should be immediately enacted in the territory to restrict the residents from squandering their hard-earned income on drink…”

“This month, the Police Department has already arrested dozens of civilians for drunken brawling. If this continues, they will be completely lost to the vice of alcoholism, losing all motivation to work and face life with a positive attitude.”

Harvey listened attentively, nodding from time to time to show his agreement with Yuliao’s points. It was only when Yuliao suggested enacting a prohibition that he spoke gently, “From what I know, because the Northern Barren Lands are bitterly cold, most of the residents here, if they have the means, have a long-standing habit of drinking alcohol to ward off the chill. A sudden prohibition would likely cause public discontent.”

Yuliao stated seriously, “My lord, as long as you issue the order in your name as the lord, the residents will not dare to disobey. In the past, when wars broke out in the nations of the south, leading to reduced grain production, many noble lords also enacted laws prohibiting alcohol. Those who violated the decrees were naturally punished with flogging or hard labor, which quickly curbed their bad habits.”

His grandfather had been a minor landowner with the title of knight, but by the time the family estate was passed down to his father, that good-for-nothing man had become an alcoholic. Not only did he fail to uphold the family’s knightly honor, but he also squandered the entire family fortune. This experience left Yuliao with a deep-seated hatred for the public custom of drinking and merrymaking.

Harvey retorted, “The territory’s official market can certainly stop producing and selling alcohol. But have you considered that my residents are not poor? They have more than enough money to buy grain and secretly brew their own.”

“Police Superintendent Yuliao, are you planning to rely on the Police Department’s less than one hundred officers to go door-to-door every day, raiding ordinary residents who brew for their own consumption?”

Harvey teased with a relaxed expression, “I’m afraid even if I fitted all of you with powerful alchemical mechanical prosthetics, you still wouldn’t be able to keep up. The pioneer territories now have over ten thousand residents.”

Although he knew the lord wasn’t angry, Yuliao’s face still flushed red. After all, he had only been a Probationary Knight in the past and had no experience managing commoners and serfs for noble lords.

Harvey naturally understood that this young knight-turned-superintendent was a man of principle, merely lacking in experience. So he said comfortingly, “There’s no need to feel ashamed. You’ve only just taken up your post a few months ago. In the future, you’ll face problems far more difficult than dealing with a few drunkards.”

“Remember my advice: when it comes to lifestyle issues affecting a large portion of the population, guiding them is better than suppressing them. Instead of forcing them with laws and whips, it’s better to find ways to guide and change their bad habits…”

Yuliao fell silent for a moment, lost in thought. He bowed to Harvey once more and said sincerely, “My lord, please instruct me. How should I guide and change the residents’ love for drinking?”

Harvey rose with a smile, took Yuliao by his mechanical arm, and led him to the study’s window. He pointed to the commoners strolling leisurely and chatting in groups in the town square in front of the castle during their afternoon break.

“I once read a line in an ancient noble’s text on managing cities: ‘Once the granaries are full with the harvest, a well-fed populace immediately develops a sense of shame.’”

“Look, they’re starting to buy themselves new clothes in various styles. They remember to polish their leather boots after work each day. The new public bathhouse is packed every night with long queues… In the past, these refugees didn’t care if they were crawling with lice. Why have they become so fond of cleanliness now?”

Realization dawned on Yuliao, and he muttered to himself, “Because they have hope for the future and spare money in their pockets, everyone has started to care about their reputation…”

Harvey laughed heartily and clapped him on the shoulder. “Crude, but true. That’s exactly it. Compared to a flogging for drunken misconduct, if you hang a sign around his neck and sentence him to sweep the streets near his home, he’d probably feel far more humiliated.”

Hearing Harvey’s suggestion, the young superintendent’s face lit up with joy. He decisively bowed farewell to his lord and left the castle study in high spirits.

“Those hopeless drunkards are in for some serious public shaming!” Astaren, who had been listening from the side of the study, remarked with dry wit.

Harvey, however, said softly, lost in thought, “This is actually just one way to guide these residents to change their habits.”

He immediately returned to his desk, sat down, and began to write furiously on a piece of white paper with a quill.

“Guard! Take this signed note to the head of the Agriculture Department and have him get me some bladders from the pig farm!”

A guard, who was on standby in the study, was taken aback for a second but immediately stepped forward to take Harvey’s order slip. He bowed and left quickly.

“Pig innards? What could they be used for? The smell of that stuff… Hmm, it’s been so long, I don’t even remember. I just recall it wasn’t very pleasant,” Astaren muttered to himself in confusion.

Harvey chuckled. “A few extra rinses will get rid of the smell of urine. Besides, I’m not going to eat it, so there’s no need to worry about such details.”

He then pulled the lever of a one-way communication alchemical device and sent a message to Egnor, who was busy at the infirmary, asking him to send some heated and melted rubber fruit gel to the castle.

Now Astaren was completely baffled as to what Harvey was up to. He pressed him curiously, “The gel from rubber fruits? Weren’t you planning to use that to make some kind of wheel? What other magical purpose could it have when combined with pig innards?”

Harvey pulled over a sheet of white paper and, with a few strokes, drew a double-layered circle.

“The outer layer will be made from the rubber fruit, and the inner lining from a pig’s bladder. I’m going to create an extremely elastic, air-filled sphere!”

He brandished the paper with the circle drawn on it and said triumphantly, “This sphere is the key to changing the residents’ lifestyle habits and entertainment preferences!”

Harvey planned to introduce this sport to the army first. Then, just like with the shooting competition, he would let the public watch this highly captivating ball game to guide them into enthusiastically participating.

Perhaps after this sport becomes widespread, Harvey could even host small-scale sporting events in the territory.

“Hmm, yes. It seems I’ll also have to notify the Construction Department to build a sports field with spectator stands for me in advance!”

Chapter 184: The Officers’ Club

Harvey summoned Haru, the disheveled and busy head of the Construction Department, to the castle. He tossed him a few rough sketches of a sports field he had drawn, gave him a few simple reminders, and sent him on his way.

As for the location of the sports field, the choice was simple. Since many of the production factories originally in the core of the territory had been moved to the outer Industrial Zone, far from the Market District and Residential Area, a large swath of idle land had opened up near Harvey’s Lord’s Castle.

Aside from the alchemical botanical garden under construction, most of the vacant land had been temporarily planted with a large number of evergreen trees and flowering shrubs, serving as a makeshift street garden to improve the living environment.

All that was needed was to set aside a small, square plot of land to be used as the territory’s future sports field.

After finishing these tasks, he sent a guard to City Hall to retrieve resident information from Rainer and find a painter from the south skilled in drawing.

“Back in the south, besides painting portraits for nobles and wealthy merchants, did you draw anything else?” Harvey asked gently, looking at the painter who had been brought to the castle.

The young painter stood timidly between two guards, his head lowered, not daring to look directly at the lord. “Your Grace,” he stammered, “I… I’m just a painter’s apprentice. I’m not yet qualified to paint portraits for nobles and wealthy merchants. I was mainly responsible for painting floral patterns on porcelain at a ceramics workshop…”

Harvey clapped his hands. “That’s more than enough. You’re exactly who I need.” He then had a guard hand a stack of cut paper sheets to the painter.

Only then did the young painter notice that the sheets in his hand were all identical in size—rectangular and about the size of a child’s palm.

“What patterns would you like me to paint on these sheets?”

“Some numbers and corresponding decorative patterns. Nothing complicated…”

This was a new idea that had suddenly sprung to mind after he’d thought of promoting ball sports in the territory. The residents were indeed lacking in recreational activities. Apart from the one-time Winter Festival, the only other major event that could stir public interest was the army’s semi-annual target shooting competition.

Outdoor ball sports were a key priority for promotion, but he also had to consider indoor entertainment for the cold winter months.

The simplest was, of course, card and board games. There was nothing more comfortable on a cold day than gathering around a warm fireplace to play cards.

However, Harvey had procured some ordinary paper used for daily writing, as well as the special papyrus used for printing gold yuan banknotes, and found them all to be too soft for playing cards. They needed a certain hardness, toughness, and elasticity to be stacked, shuffled, and drawn.

But now, with the rubber fruit, the problem was essentially solved.

By simply applying a coating of rubber fruit gel over the tough papyrus and then painting on the numbers and patterns, he could create a deck of exquisite and durable playing cards.

Once a month, Pierce would spend a week personally overseeing the River Valley Outpost, commanding the three rotating Northern Army battalions stationed at the Forward Bastion—three hundred soldiers in total—in continuous mountain warfare exercises.

After the start of summer, the last few small vile orc tribes lingering in the river valley had caught wind of the situation and driven their herds back into the depths of the icefields. The outpost garrison’s last hypothetical enemy for practical combat had vanished.

Sitting inside the steadily moving War Beast, Pierce was struck by a strange sense of looking around, sword in hand, only to feel at a loss. After the rounds of offense and defense against the vile orcs in the river valley and the small-scale skirmish against the Demons during the raid on the natural mineral vein at the foot of the mountains, there were no hostile targets left to attack within a radius of several hundred kilometers of the pioneer territories.

It was always a bit lonely without an adversary. Pierce sighed inwardly. It was still a few hours’ journey to the territory. He would first go to Egnor’s infirmary to pick up his share of the “delicious oral solution” for the latter half of the month, then return to the Barracks to drill the newly recruited soldiers to pass the time.

Tommy, a captain sharing the same War Beast, glanced over and saw Commander Pierce with his eyes closed in a feigned nap. His spirits immediately lifted. He quietly nudged Vaughn, the battalion commander sitting next to him. “Chief, after we get back to the territory, you want to go for a stroll outside the Barracks with us?”

Vaughn paused for a moment, then whispered, “A stroll where? Have the food stalls in the Market District started selling new delicacies?”

Wayne, sitting opposite them, let out a low chuckle and couldn’t help but interject, “Battalion commander, stop thinking about the food stalls in the Market District. A new restaurant just opened in the territory. I heard the chef was transferred from the Lord’s Castle kitchen. The dishes they make are the kind only noble lords get to enjoy…”

Dav stammered, “I know. Mr. Egnor mentioned it. He’s tried it several times and couldn’t stop praising the food. It’s just… it’s just that it’s a bit pricey. We should probably wait until we get this month’s stipend before we go and splurge!”

“I say, can you guys think about something other than eating?” Tommy rolled his eyes at Dav. “I heard from the logistics soldiers that an… establishment called the Officers’ Club has opened outside the Barracks…”

“After we get back to the territory and report in, let’s go check out that Officers’ Club!”

Vaughn and the others changed out of their black officer uniforms and into light, casual cotton and linen clothes for going out. Led by Tommy, they left the Barracks and, after turning down a few streets, arrived in front of a two-story cement building.

Hanging beside the main door was a large sign bearing the emblem of the territory’s army. Vaughn struggled to make out the large characters written on it: “Pioneer Territories Officers’ Club.”

An middle-aged man in the black uniform of the Defense Force sat on a bench by the door. He greeted the group with a smile. “Heh, brothers from the army? The club only serves military personnel.”

Tommy quickly gestured for Vaughn and the others to pull out the rank and identity nameplates from around their necks, which the Defense Force soldier at the door checked one by one.

Pushing open the club’s door, the group was immediately stunned by the boisterous scene inside.

In the spacious first-floor hall, a long counter stood to one side, with several waiters behind it, much like the bar in a tavern.

The rest of the space was filled with small round tables, each seating three or four patrons, some in civilian clothes, others in uniform. They were gathered around the tables, holding stacks of strange cards, shouting loudly or erupting in bursts of hearty laughter.

The “Quick-witted one,” Tommy, immediately spotted a familiar face at one of the tables—Uncle Runi, the logistics officer. He quickly pulled the dazed and awkward Vaughn and the others through the crowd.

“Well, well! Little Tommy! You’re back from your rotation at the outpost!” Runi, with his felt officer’s cap worn askew, stood up and greeted them warmly. With a kick of his left foot and then his right, he shooed away the other logistics soldiers sitting with him to make room for them.

Just as Vaughn and the others had settled in, a young waiter approached from the bar, bowed with a smile, and asked, “Commanders, what can I get you to drink? Or if you haven’t eaten at the Barracks, we can also provide meals…”

Vaughn glanced at the large mug Runi was holding and frowned. “Military regulations state that non-commissioned officers are not to drink indiscriminately!”

Runi laughed heartily. “Don’t worry! This is a special perk approved by the lord himself, my boy! This specially brewed… beer won’t get you drunk. It’s a delicious beverage supplied specially for the army!”

His voice grew louder as he spoke, and finally, he stood up and raised his mug. The soldiers at the other tables raised their mugs in unison, roaring with laughter, “To our respected lord’s good health!”

The waiter immediately seized the opportunity to bring over four mugs of the special-supply drink, each with a pure white foam piled on top. Dav impatiently picked one up and took a sip. He felt the fine foam slide between his lips and teeth as the cool, sweet liquid flowed down his throat and into his stomach.

“Burp! This bubbly stuff doesn’t have a strong taste of alcohol, but it has a sweet aftertaste! You guys have to try it, it’s really good!”

Vaughn silently took a sip, then turned his head to look at a very lively table nearby, occupied entirely by Defense Force officers who usually didn’t get along with the Northern Army.

The three of them sat together, holding stacks of paper cards painted with numbers and exquisite patterns, deep in concentration.

“Pair of threes!”

“Damn it, pass!”

Chapter 185: A Remodeled “Soul Siphon”

After nightfall, Harvey followed his usual routine of browsing the documents recorded in the Magic Encyclopedia on the Magic Net Forum for a while before beginning his daily meditation.

The Federation had nearly finished uploading its collection of materials to the Magic Encyclopedia. Chief The Scorching Sovereign had already asked Harvey several times, both directly and indirectly, when this section of the Forum might officially go live.

Harvey, however, felt there was no rush. He planned to use his administrator privileges to filter through all the valuable knowledge first—and maybe secretly back up a copy for himself. He would then announce its opening at the next Forum gathering.

“The files the Federation uploaded aren’t too secretive. They’ve even compiled and shared the research papers and modified spells of past high-rank Spellcasters and Chiefs who earned the Legendary title.”

Although the precious, original spells of those Spellcasting magnates were not on the public sharing list, Harvey, who lacked theoretical knowledge of high-rank universal spells, still felt he had benefited immensely.

“Hmm? Dawson’s Soul Siphon, a modified nine-circle spell, and a fusion of pure arcane and death energy… Hiss, the Federation even put up the signature spell that made the current Chief famous?”

However, Harvey quickly discovered that the matrix analysis and model construction for this spell were behind one of the highest access permissions in the Magic Encyclopedia. A member needed to pay a full two thousand points or share a modified spell of an equivalent level to successfully unlock it.

According to his previous agreement with the Federation, if someone could actually afford the sky-high price of two thousand points, the Forum and the Federation would split the revenue fifty-fifty. The Federation’s share of the points would go into a public point pool for Forum members flagged as being from the Federation, allowing them to circulate the points internally.

This was tantamount to the Federation opening a virtual currency bank account on the Magic Net Forum, and one for which Harvey didn’t even have to pay interest on their savings.

Of course, he had also contacted Frost Giant and Heart of the Forest—the two members whose identities as a Burrowing Dwarf and a High Elf were clear—and after reaching a consensus, he opened a similar shared account for them. This allowed them to act in unison when selling their races’ rare magical materials on the Forum, coordinating their pricing to present a united front and do their best to avoid being exploited by Human Spellcasters.

Harvey was becoming more and more adept at this balancing act between Spellcasters from different racial and factional backgrounds on the Forum.

This was Harvey’s first encounter with a high-circle fusion-type magic, and his curiosity was naturally piqued. He was itching to know more and simply couldn’t resist using his administrator privileges to get a free peek.

Although a nine-circle spell was far beyond his current level to learn, both in terms of theoretical analysis and model construction, given his magical knowledge and caster rank, just getting to see it would be an eye-opening experience.

“Soul Siphon, originally a seven-circle high-rank universal spell, falls into the category of forbidden Cursing Arts, the kind that just barely scrapes by approval…”

The foundation of its spell model was actually the same type as the three-circle spell “Mirror Curse” that Harvey had learned before. Both were curse attacks that targeted the soul, but their power and effects were worlds apart.

While “Mirror Curse” had some resistance to basic defensive spells, it was completely hard-countered by the Church’s divine arts. Moreover, it required summoning a mirror double in advance to launch an attack, making it a low-rank spell with obvious flaws and drawbacks.

“Soul Siphon,” on the other hand, was a high-rank spell. It didn’t require a long casting time or an indirect medium like a mirror double. And after being modified by the Legendary Chief Sorun Dawson, its attack method had become incredibly unique, making it almost impossible for enemies to guard against.

It was an attachable, long-range curse attack! It also fused pure arcane energy into the original death energy, allowing it to bypass detection and defense from divine arts!

“Dawson’s Soul Siphon”—using one’s own magical energy to condense a Curse Seed that fused death and arcane energy. It could be attached to any weapon or enchanted item, and could even be silently planted to parasitize a living creature. Once triggered by the caster, the powerful curse energy would erupt in an instant, forming a wide-area attack.

Back when the current Legendary Chief, Mr. Sorun Dawson, was stationed as a high-rank Spellcaster on the Demon battlefield in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, it was with this mysterious and powerful curse that he single-handedly destroyed an entire small-scale Demon fortress. He then safely escaped the encirclement of three high-rank Demon priests and returned, becoming famous in one fell swoop and earning the Legendary title.

“Silent, imperceptible, and deadly. The high-circle spells of Legendary Casters are truly terrifying!”

Harvey lamented silently, also understanding why the Federation didn’t mind sharing this spell publicly. The core of “Dawson’s Soul Siphon” was the caster’s ability to use their own immense magical energy to condense the Curse Seed. Without a caster as brilliantly powerful as Sorun Dawson, even if an ordinary battle mage learned the spell, the attack’s power would, at best, be equivalent to a kamikaze truck capable of killing a few enemies.

Harvey was well aware of the difference in power between a “nuke” and a “grenade.”

With his current magical energy reserves as a mid-rank Spellcaster stored in his sigils, he probably couldn’t even condense a Curse Seed with the power of a grenade. The most he could likely cobble together would be a large firecracker, which would just blow the seed’s carrier to smithereens and put on a firework display for the enemy.

“Wait! If magical energy can be condensed into a Curse Seed through this spell’s model…” Harvey’s eyes widened as he stared at the spell model displayed on the Magic Brain crystal. “Then couldn’t mental energy also be condensed into a Mental Energy Seed using the same model?”

When it came to the sheer vastness of mental energy within his Mental Anchor, Harvey was confident that he had never met a Spellcaster stronger than himself. This could be inferred simply from the manifested form of each caster’s Mental Anchor.

Harvey had inadvertently peeked at a private conversation on the Forum where Mr. “Heart of the Forest,” whose real identity was a high-rank Nature Spellcaster, mentioned that his Mental Anchor was a giant forest bear.

The Mental Anchor of Mr. “The Scorching Sovereign,” a Legendary Caster and one of the Federation’s Chiefs, was even more formidable and terrifying—it was an active volcano that could erupt in a frenzy at any moment!

But not a single Forum member, in private chat or public sharing, had ever mentioned their Mental Anchor manifesting as something like Harvey’s—an entire, massive planet.

“If I use the spell model and matrix structure from Dawson’s Soul Siphon to try and condense an energy seed infused with my own vast mental energy, I wonder what level of power the attack would have once it’s detonated.”

Harvey knew that ordinary low-rank spells like “Mental Storm” and “Mind Blast,” when cast, created a small-area mental impact that left targets in a brief state of Stun, shock, and confusion. However, their damage could be nullified by many defensive spells of the same rank, or even be completely resisted or countered.

But he didn’t dare to rashly test a modified, variant mental seed attack based on “Dawson’s Soul Siphon” within his own pioneer territory. If the power was too great and he couldn’t control the area of effect, it could easily affect ordinary civilians, turning them all into a crowd of living idiots.

The best place for the experiment would, of course, be the unique space that belonged only to him within the Magic Net space: the mysterious beach on the planet of his Mental Anchor.

Chapter 186: New Spell: Information Frenzy!

Harvey concluded his routine meditation at midnight, then forcibly committed the spell model and analytical construct of Dawson’s Soul Siphon to memory. With practiced ease, he guided his mental energy into the Magic Net space.

As a mid-rank Spellcaster, he still had several empty spell circle slots in his sigil. This time, he didn’t need to practice drawing the spell matrix in the real world beforehand; he could simply use his mental energy to construct a half-finished Soul Siphon casting model directly within his sigil.

After all, Harvey only needed this simplified version to successfully crystallize a Mental Seed.

The three-dimensional, polyhedral star-shaped sigil still floated silently in the Magic Net space. The sharp, protruding edges on its surface constantly extended, retracted, and transformed, while inside, several spell circle slots—some occupied, some empty—drifted in a slow, orderly pattern.

Third-circle original spell—Mirror Curse…

Fifth-circle modified spell—Keryl’s Corrosive Domain…

Sixth-circle (unidentified) original spell—Floyd’s Magnetic Storm Field…

Harvey currently had three empty spell circle slots left for constructing and inscribing spell models.

Once they were filled, he could absolutely try to advance again, all the way to the rank of a high-rank Spellcaster.

He had heard back in the Necromancy Academy that the higher the level and the more original the spells inscribed in a Spellcaster’s spell circle slots, the fewer obstacles they would face during advancement.

For example, the current Chief of the Federation, the Legendary-ranked Mr. Kemer Salas, The Scorching Sovereign, had inscribed a total of five original spells and one modified spell in his sigil’s spell circle slots when he was a mid-rank Spellcaster—all of which he created himself, thanks to his genius-level magical talent and research capabilities.

However, this didn’t mean that research-type Spellcasters had a higher chance of advancing to high-rank than battle mages. Another Legendary Chief, Wes Gallagher, who came from a battle mage background, had advanced by sheer force, relying on learning and replicating high-circle arcane spells and leveraging the purity and uniqueness of arcane energy.

This was just another manifestation of a genius mage’s ability.

But Harvey had never heard of any Spellcaster in the Federation’s history who had successfully advanced to high-rank after barely filling their six mid-rank spell circle slots with only low-circle and universal spells. The barriers of talent and ability were ever-present; one could never go far on the path of magic by merely studying and replicating the research of their predecessors.

“Inscribing a simplified version of Dawson’s Soul Siphon will waste one of my spell circle slots, doubling the difficulty of my advancement to high-rank later on…”

Harvey’s projection, constructed from mental energy, hovered beside his sigil. He closed his eyes and contemplated for a long time, repeatedly weighing whether the price of this experiment was worth the potential reward.

If he succeeded, even if he wasted a slot, he would still gain a unique original spell of his own. Moreover, it would be a special type that transcended his current rank—a “Transcendent-circle spell.”

This referred to when a research-type Spellcaster, using advanced magical theories, achieved a research breakthrough beyond their current rank and used it to construct a unique, higher-tier spell.

In comparison, the cost of wasting one spell circle slot to construct a half-finished, simplified model seemed entirely acceptable.

His objective clear, Harvey immediately guided his mental energy, pouring it in a ceaseless stream into an empty spell circle slot. Following the forcibly memorized model of Dawson’s Soul Siphon, he began the construction and analysis.

Since he didn’t need to complete the inscription and analysis, this part of the process was simplified countless times over, and a half-finished spell model soon materialized.

Harvey cut off his mental energy, halting the construction, and began guiding this simple spell model to crystallize the Mental Seed.

Through his consciousness, he could clearly feel that this Mental Seed, after its special modifications, had a much stronger ability to absorb and integrate his own mental energy. No matter how much of his vast mental energy Harvey poured into it, the seed seemed to accommodate it all effortlessly, like a bottomless black hole that could never be filled.

Soon, Harvey’s mental energy became unusually depleted. A sharp, needle-like throbbing pain emanated from his parched sea of consciousness, forcing him to immediately stop the siphoning, sever his connection to the Magic Net, and return to the real world.

After taking out and drinking the energy recovery potion Egnor had prepared, Harvey half-lay on the sofa in his study, timing himself as he rested for an hour, allowing the potion to rapidly restore his depleted energy.

In the mysterious beach space within his Mental Anchor, it was impossible to release magical energy. However, the manipulation and guidance of mental energy were unaffected. Harvey only needed to control his mental energy to detonate the Mental Seed and test the spell’s power.

After a familiar dizzying sensation faded, he returned to the mysterious beach within his Mental Anchor.

The doppelganger that had hatched was squatting dazedly on the sand, its posture unchanged from when he had last left. It seemed that without a soul link to Harvey, this doppelganger was nothing more than an empty puppet.

The other two strange pods were still resting quietly on the sand. Harvey suspected his current mental energy and soul strength were insufficient to hatch and control multiple doppelganger puppets simultaneously, which was why they remained unhatched.

In that case, he would use this fully-formed doppelganger puppet as the host for the Mental Seed in this experiment. Even if it was destroyed by the spell, he still had two spare pods he could hatch. It was no great loss.

Approaching the doppelganger puppet, Harvey reached out and touched it. His mental energy and perception instantly split in two, entering the strange state of soul separation. He then transferred the Mental Seed from his sea of consciousness, implanting it into the puppet’s body.

The completely naked puppet’s eyes snapped open. It instinctively reached down to cover its private parts and muttered with its mouth slightly open, “I need to run farther away before detonating the seed. The blast’s power can’t be allowed to reach my true self.”

Harvey’s true self, wearing shorts, nodded in agreement and continued, speaking his thoughts aloud, “We can also use this opportunity to test the maximum range of our mental link while in a state of soul separation.”

The puppet nodded, still covering its crotch, and decisively turned. It took off on its slender, long legs, sprinting toward a pile of reefs in the distance.

As it ran, it didn’t forget to look back and shout a reminder to its true self, “Let’s split up and put some distance between us!”

Harvey’s true self, wearing oversized SpongeBob SquarePants swim trunks, gave a wry smile. He also turned, picked up the two remaining strange pods, and walked in the opposite direction.

He didn’t know if it was a unique property of this mysterious beach, but Harvey found that no matter how far apart he and the doppelganger puppet were, the state of soul separation was unaffected. Instead, as the distance between them grew, the gap between their perspectives and perceptions widened, leading to a significant divergence.

“If we maintain this distance and the state of soul separation for a long time, I wonder if that doppelganger puppet will develop an independent soul and consciousness…”

This sudden idea sent a shiver down Harvey’s spine. He immediately shook his head to banish the frightening thought, but it seemed his distant doppelganger had the same thought at the same time, for it looked back from afar in the direction of his true self.

Harvey decided not to delay any longer. Through their mental link, he decisively ordered the doppelganger to detonate the Mental Seed buried deep within its body.

In that instant, he heard what sounded like the illusory shattering of an object in his mind. A sharp pain lanced through his head, and his perceptive link to the doppelganger snapped. An invisible wave of mental energy erupted from the doppelganger puppet, and in the very next second, it rapidly washed over his true self’s position.

A mere distance of less than a thousand meters was nowhere near enough to escape the blast radius of the detonated Mental Seed.

Harvey’s head buzzed. Countless chaotic, fragmented pieces of information and memory, like man-eating Living Corpses that had caught the scent of blood, transformed into overlapping phantoms and swarmed toward him.

This frenzied mental assault passed straight through his flesh and blood, forcing its way into the sea of consciousness that housed his Mental Anchor and surging toward the azure planet that represented his home.

Then, like a drop of water merging into the vast ocean or a speck of gravel falling into a sea of sand, it vanished without a sound.

“So, the impact generated by the detonated Mental Seed originates from the caster’s own condensed memories and awareness stored within the Mental Anchor…”

Recovering from a brief moment of dizziness, Harvey couldn’t help but smile, extremely satisfied with the original spell born from this risky experiment.

“For a Transmigrator like me to cast a spell that attacks like this… it’s like dropping a mental nuke from my past life to obliterate the backward consciousness of this world…”

Chapter 187: Bicycles and Public Transportation

Harvey sat in a chair in his study, carefully reading the work report submitted by Rainer.

In this regard, he had to admit that an alchemical lifeform, capable of entering a state of absolute rationality at any moment, was indeed the most suitable for statistical analysis.

The statistical tables Rainer had drawn by hand were practically indistinguishable from the spreadsheets created by the office software Harvey had loathed most in his past life. The data collection, organization, and analysis were methodical and the results were clear.

The population of the pioneer territories had now reached ten thousand. As spring turned to summer, the frequency of refugee migration had decreased, and the territory’s population growth had temporarily stagnated, giving Harvey a slight breather.

Excluding the three thousand five hundred members of the territory’s standing army, most of the refugees had originally been utterly destitute, either dependent on the vile orcs or huddled in small human settlements, barely surviving through the most primitive forms of hunting and gathering.

The artisans and craftsmen with production skills were mostly escaped slaves from the south and bankrupt tenant farmers, and this group made up a very small percentage of the territory’s population.

“We need to open more technical training classes, the kind of accelerated night school, to help these civilians with no work experience adapt to factory work in the territory as quickly as possible.”

Rainer immediately asked, “Then should we still require them to attend the original night literacy school?”

“We must. Being able to basically read and write is just as essential as learning a simple work skill. Combine these two courses and encourage them to participate enthusiastically.” He thought for a moment, then added, “For residents willing to attend both courses simultaneously, the school can provide them with a free extra meal at night. That way, they’ll be more willing to take their own initiative.”

Rainer silently took out a small notebook and quickly jotted down the unfamiliar phrase from Harvey’s speech, “take their own initiative.” Although he only half-understood it himself, this kind of unheard-of “high-end vocabulary” would allow him to perfectly achieve the posturing effect essential for a manager, inspiring unconditional admiration and trust from the other mid-to-low-level officials under him.

Harvey, completely oblivious to Rainer’s small action, continued, “The people in charge of management and technical guidance in the various factories, as well as the teachers in the public schools and night training classes—regardless of whether they arrived in the territory single or with their families, you must ensure that each of them is allocated an independent home.”

Rainer nodded in acknowledgment. “My lord, are these houses to be given to them for free?”

“We’ll still count it as rent, as before. We can’t treat them too differently. Except for the first few dozen original residents who joined us, everyone else will have to save up and buy their own homes through mortgage-style loans.”

Rainer dutifully recorded this and bowed. “I will return to City Hall at once and delegate these tasks you’ve assigned…”

“This isn’t a matter of extreme urgency. Do you have other things you need to rush back for?”

Rainer scratched his head and subconsciously replied, “No, there’s nothing else that’s particularly urgent…”

A slight smile appeared on Harvey’s lips. “You spend your entire day buried in the tedious administrative work of the territory. You don’t have any time to conduct research experiments with me anymore. You used to love all those shiny alchemical devices and experimental materials.”

Seeing Harvey’s relaxed expression, Rainer finally broke out of his absolute rationality mode and chuckled. “My lord, I think I might just be a natural-born worrier. I always feel that if the tasks you assign are handed over to the people below, they’ll just make a complete mess of things…”

Harvey stood up, patted him on the shoulder, and said reassuringly, “Then come with me to see a new invention. It’s time to relax a bit!”

The two chatted idly as they walked to the castle’s enclosed rear garden. Astaren and the newly joined Alchemist, Chris, were already waiting there, engaged in a heated discussion about something.

In an open space in the middle of the garden stood a row of wooden racks, covered by a large, waterproof tarp.

“The area enclosed by the pioneer territories’ walls is already enormous. Just the core region centered around the Lord’s Castle is divided into three sections: the Castle District, the administrative district, and the Market District. The Residential Area along the river is also expanding steadily, housing most of the territory’s permanent population. The military barracks near the northern section of the walls are also quite large, not to mention the outlying Agricultural Zone and Industrial Zone…”

When Chris saw Harvey arrive, he quickly bowed in greeting before continuing his effusive analysis. “Currently, the work area furthest from the territory is the Mining Area to the southwest. Good heavens, when I went to sort ores a few days ago, it took me a full hour of walking to get there. No wonder those miners usually just live in the dormitories at the mining site and only return to the Residential Area once a week.”

Astaren nodded in agreement. “That’s right. To get from the territory to the River Valley Forward Bastion, even riding a War Beast, it takes at least half a day. If you had to rely purely on walking, hehe, you’d probably have to spend a night in the wilderness and a full day and night on the road…”

Harvey walked over and yanked off the waterproof tarp. “This is also why I had Mr. Chris create this mode of transport. The Northern Barren Lands don’t produce horses, and the cost of keeping them is high. We don’t have the means to let every resident learn to ride a horse.”

Rainer looked closely and was immediately captivated by the novel alchemical device before him. “What… what kind of instrument is this? It actually has two wheels? Can it be pushed?”

Astaren shook his head, puzzled. “Before you arrived, Mr. Chris and I were arguing about this. With the wheels one behind the other, there’s no way to maintain balance like a cart. I don’t see how it can replace a person’s legs for rapid movement.”

Chris kept his mouth shut in a smug expression, his eyes constantly darting towards Harvey, just waiting for him to give the explanation.

Harvey saw the man’s desperate desire to show off and gave him a smiling, gentle nod.

Chris was instantly energized. “My lord has named this thing a ‘bicycle.’ It also took me some time to learn how to control it. Allow me to demonstrate for you…” As he spoke, he pushed one over, swung his leg over to straddle it, placed his feet on the pedals in a standard posture, and with a gentle push, immediately began maneuvering the vehicle around the garden.

Watching his clumsy and nervous grip on the handlebars, and the comical way he wobbled as he turned, on the verge of falling, Harvey couldn’t help but silently roast him in his mind, “Such a novice! His riding skills…”

With the technical problem of the rubber wheels solved, the territory’s cast-iron factory was fully capable of handcrafting a simple bicycle according to Harvey’s blueprints. The appearance was a bit lacking, but the function of transportation was perfectly achievable.

Moreover, the tires made from the rubber fruit’s gel met all the standards for hardness and elasticity, even eliminating the need to manufacture separate inner and outer tubes for inflation. The frame was made of lightweight hollow iron tubing. Braking was done with one’s feet; since there were no steeply sloped areas in the territory, there was no opportunity for riders to get up to high speeds anyway.

The only part with a complex process was the chain. However, after repeated experiments, Chris had successfully cast it using a mold, then linked the pieces together and installed them on the wheels to connect them to the pedals.

After wobbling around for a few laps, Chris planted his feet on the ground to stop. Rainer immediately rushed forward impatiently, shouting, “Let me try! Let me try!”

The young Alchemist quickly grabbed the bicycle, a look of horror on his face. “No, no! Mr. Rainer! Your alchemical body is too heavy! This lightweight frame won’t be able to take it. You’ll crush it the moment you sit on it!”

Seeing this, Harvey quickly spoke up to console him, “The bicycle is meant for ordinary civilians to use for transport. I plan to open a bicycle factory in the Industrial Zone to mass-produce this vehicle, then promote and sell it throughout the territory at a low price. Hmm… a resident will only need to spend half a month’s or a month’s salary to own such a magical alchemical mount.”

“As for you and Astaren, I have another transportation invention in mind, tailor-made for you… and the army’s soldiers. You won’t have to worry about body weight, and it will be several times faster than a bicycle!”

Harvey had drawn the design sketches long ago, just waiting for Chris to finish his current phase of work before they could be put into development.

Harvey couldn’t be bothered to give it some novel, trendy name; he would just slightly modify its original name.

It would be called an Off-road “Magic-cycle”.

Chapter 188: An Unconventional Ball Game

The sun was setting in the west, and the scorching daytime heat began to gradually fade. Although summer in the Northern Barren Lands was short, the sun was still quite fierce.

Vaughn finished the day’s military training, dismissed the soldiers, and ambled toward the barracks’ public bathhouse to cool off. His lightweight cotton-linen training uniform was already soaked through with sweat, but he was never one to wash his clothes frequently. He’d just toss the soaked uniform on his bunk frame to dry overnight and wear it again the next day. He couldn’t care less about the smell; besides, he wasn’t the one who had to suffer from it.

“Chief! Chief! What’s taking you so long? Are you still coming out with us tonight?”

Vaughn stopped and turned to see Tommy’s head poke out from the officers’ quarters. He grinned. “To the Officers’ Club for cards? If you’re in a hurry, I can skip the shower. We can just head out now.”

“Well… we’re not in that much of a hurry.” Tommy chuckled, winking. “What’s this? Are you more addicted to cards than we are now? Weren’t you the one who was putting on airs, acting like you didn’t want to join in?”

Vaughn, flustered and angry, threw his sweaty uniform at Tommy’s face before walking toward the bathhouse, his muscular torso bare.

After a quick rinse, he returned to his quarters, ready to change and gather Dav, Wayne, and the others for an enjoyable evening at the club. To his surprise, he found Commander Pierce standing outside the barracks—a rare sight indeed.

“Commander Pierce!” Vaughn quickly stood at attention and saluted, but Pierce grabbed him. “Quick!” the commander urged. “Go pick me some agile men with good stamina who are good at running. Including yourself, I need eleven. Assemble on the training grounds in a quarter of an hour!”

Vaughn snapped to attention. Without asking what was happening, he pulled up his pants and dashed into the barracks, calling over Tommy and the others, who were already waiting impatiently. “Change of plans, we’re not going to the club tonight! Commander Pierce wants me to pick ten men to assemble on the training grounds. We might have a mission!”

He immediately started calling out names, picking the long-limbed “Quick-witted one,” Tommy, first. Then he selected several non-commissioned officers from the Northern Army who had awakened their bloodline talents, a group that naturally included Dav and Wayne.

The group, now dressed in their combat uniforms, hurried to the training grounds. There, they found Commander Pierce standing beside a group of officers and soldiers from the Defense Force, equal in number to their own.

“Commander, is this about to…”

For once, Pierce wasn’t scowling. His tone was relaxed. “His Lordship has given an order. He wants you to learn a… uh, competitive sport. It’s similar to a shooting competition. The Northern Army and the Defense Force will each form a team and play against each other.”

The mention of another competition, especially a direct confrontation with the Defense Force, delighted Vaughn. He silently congratulated himself for picking almost exclusively Bloodline Warriors. The Defense Force, after all, didn’t have nearly as many talented individuals who had undergone the bloodline transformation as the Northern Army did. Wouldn’t this be the perfect chance to dominate them and vent some frustration?

After all, he had endured all sorts of taunts and ridicule from the Defense Force group at the Officers’ Club, where he had been utterly thrashed at cards.

“Compete against each other? Are we supposed to fight bare-handed? Commander, can we use our bloodline talent abilities? That wouldn’t be fair to Battalion Commander Vaughn,” Tommy quickly asked, trying to clarify the rules beforehand.

Pierce immediately shook his head, signaling for them all to quiet down.

A soldier from the logistics department slowly pushed a small cart onto the training grounds. The men now saw that the cart was stacked with sets of leather protective gear, complete with leather helmets. There were also two round, head-sized leather balls, though no one knew what they were for.

“Everyone, fall in!” Pierce produced a small metal whistle from somewhere and blew a sharp trill. The men instinctively gathered and formed ranks, silently awaiting his next command.

“Line up and get your protective gear. Put it all on, and that includes the helmets!”

He then picked up one of the leather balls, weighed it in his hand, and announced loudly, “Now, listen carefully to the rules, then watch as I demonstrate…”

“No one is allowed to use their bloodline talent abilities during the game. If anyone can’t control themselves, I’ll pull down his pants and make him parade around the Barracks!”

…

Probationary Superintendent Yuliao and Max, a newly promoted first-class police officer, were walking along the wooden grid fence of the Military Barracks, chatting idly. They were on night patrol for this area.

“Ever since the lord opened that… what’s it called, public card and game room, everyone’s been rushing over to play those fun card games after work. You barely see any drunks making a racket on the streets at night these days…”

Max’s tone held a hint of complaint, as if he felt he was being deprived of an opportunity to put his skills to use now that no one was causing trouble at night.

Yuliao smiled faintly and replied, “Isn’t playing cards at the game room a better choice than getting drunk, being caught by us, and then being forced to sweep the streets with a sign around your neck?”

Even he himself couldn’t resist joining his colleagues from the Police Department for a few rounds of “Slay the Dragon” at the card room yesterday.

As they were talking, they suddenly heard a sharp whistle from beyond the barracks fence. Their attention was immediately captured. They moved closer to the fence and peered inside, their timing perfect to witness the fiery scene unfolding on the training grounds.

Emergency night drills were common on the military training grounds, so tall wooden poles were erected around the perimeter, hung with bright a magic stone that could clearly illuminate the entire field at night.

Yuliao and Max immediately saw two teams of soldiers in leather armor and helmets, fiercely competing over a round leather ball.

Commander Pierce, standing on the edge of the field, blew his whistle. Vaughn took a deep breath, took a few steps back, then sprinted forward, launching the ball with a powerful kick.

The ball flew across half the field, soaring over a group of Defense Force soldiers—identifiable by the different-colored ribbons tied to their left arms—and landed in front of a teammate at the very back.

The tall Dav had been locked onto the ball’s trajectory. He leaped into the air, intercepted it, and pulled it tightly into his arms. The moment he landed, he lowered his head and charged forward like a rampaging northern bull.

But just as he reached a black line drawn across the middle of the field, three Defense Force soldiers who had been lying in wait swarmed him, tackling him to the ground.

However, having awakened his bloodline talent, Dav’s physical strength was far beyond that of an ordinary person. Even under the assault of three men, he struggled furiously, sending them sprawling. He managed to push forward a few more steps before a Defense Force officer, also a Bloodline Warrior, finally dragged him down. But just before he fell, Dav flung his arm and tossed the ball. It was caught by Tommy, who had sneakily circled around to the flank.

Though not as brawny as Dav, Tommy was tall with long legs. He moved like a swift cheetah, weaving left and right to dodge several Defense Force soldiers trying to block him. Battalion Commander Vaughn was right beside him, running interference. Anyone who got too close was sent flying by a shoulder check from Vaughn, leaving them dazed and disoriented.

Finally, Tommy carried the ball to the end line at the other side of the field and slammed it into a wooden goal basket placed there.

Pierce’s whistle shrieked again, and the Northern Army soldiers on the field erupted in a deafening cheer. Tommy immediately threw his arms in the air, parading around the field like a triumphant hero.

Yuliao and Max watched the scene from behind the fence. Although they didn’t quite understand what was happening, they were swept up by the fervent atmosphere and began to discuss it in low voices.

“Is this some kind of combat training for the army? It looks so fun. That was so exciting, what a rush!”

The game on the field continued. The soldiers, clad in thick leather armor, charged at each other as if in close-quarters combat on a battlefield. Some collided violently with their opponents, while others clutched the ball and ran for their lives. Shouts of command echoed constantly, directing soldiers to block opponents or to use pre-planned tactics to find an opening and break through the defensive line…

The fierce physical collisions and the sweat flying everywhere kicked up clouds of dirt and dust, making the blood of the two police officers spying from outside the fence boil with excitement.

Max finally couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Commander, we could form two teams at the Police Department and play this fun competitive game, too!”

Chapter 189: The Sudden Collapse

Astaren stood inside a specially erected canopy beside the playing field. Watching the intense confrontation on the field, he turned to Harvey in confusion. “My lord, I don’t quite understand. Why call this sport… uh, rugby? Isn’t an olive a type of oil-producing crop that grows in the Breath of the Hills on the southern coast?”

Harvey laughed awkwardly and gave a perfunctory reply, “Er… I just came up with a random name. Aren’t olives round like this? You can call it a rubber ball if you want.”

The olives that grew in the south of this world were indeed not the oval, pointed-at-both-ends fruit Harvey remembered from his previous life. They were perfectly spherical and were primarily used to extract vegetable oil as a cheap substitute for animal fat.

After all, for the slapdash sport Harvey had cobbled together, neither “soccer” nor “rugby” was entirely fitting. He had messed with the rules and gameplay, haphazardly fusing them together.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t considered implementing the game strictly according to the rules of soccer. But these soldiers, who were once refugees from the barren lands, had never played ball games before. It would have been difficult for them to grasp the finer points of soccer in a short time. The “offside” rule alone would probably stump everyone, including the referees.

So, Harvey could only simplify things as much as possible, turning the rules and gameplay into an easy-to-understand hodgepodge.

The opposing sides were still organized into teams of eleven. Aside from the goalkeeper, who could only move within the end line, the other ten players could form any offensive or defensive formation they wished.

The game was turn-based. Players could use both their hands and feet. The attacking team’s goalkeeper would start by kicking the ball to the forwards. After receiving the ball, the forwards would advance as far as possible, either by running with the ball themselves or passing it to other teammates making a run. If the defending team intercepted them and gained possession of the ball, that round of attack was considered a failure, and the roles of offense and defense would switch.

If the attacking team successfully broke through the defensive line, the player and the ball had to reach the end line together. The player would then throw the leather ball into a goal the size of a doorframe to score.

So, in Astaren’s eyes, these soldiers were like a real-life melee on the battlefield. Dressed in heavy leather armor and helmets, they organized themselves into ten-man squads, flexibly arranging various formations for offense or defense. Amid the intense physical contest, they followed their squad leader’s on-the-spot commands, constantly adjusting their tactics, and were clearly having a blast.

Astaren watched for a while longer, then said to Harvey thoughtfully, “My lord, I think I understand why you invented this confrontational game… The participants, who are all non-commissioned officers, are learning and applying a variety of highly effective offensive and defensive tactics at a remarkable pace!”

This was far more effective than him and Pierce forcing these brutes to sit obediently in night classes, yawning as they were force-fed the rigid military combat theories from textbooks.

Rainer, who had always been mild-mannered, said with some concern, “But they’re so worked up. What if a fight breaks out over the ball? Most of them have awakened bloodline talents.”

Harvey chuckled, unconcerned. “A little physical conflict is fine, as long as it’s within the rules. If someone loses control and accidentally injures another player, or if they get hurt by accident, aren’t the medics in the Barracks sitting around twiddling their thumbs? It’ll give them something to do.”

“However,” he continued, “if they get into a brawl after the match because they lost and can’t accept it, that’s a violation of military orders. They’ll have to go cool off in the brig…”

Harvey wasn’t worried about conflicts breaking out while the sport was confined to the army. But when it was later promoted to the general populace, this issue would require attention. The destructive potential of “football hooligans” was significant, and that kind of toxic culture needed to be nipped in the bud.

After watching the game for a while longer, it was nearly noon. Harvey stood up, preparing to return to the castle for a meal.

Suddenly, a commotion came from the main gate of the Military Barracks. Several Defense Force soldiers, led by a non-commissioned officer, hurried toward the playing field.

“What’s going on?” Harvey asked with a frown.

“My lord, the western city wall… a section of the city wall suddenly collapsed!” the non-commissioned officer in charge of the western wall’s defense reported, his face a mask of panic and terror as he bowed to Harvey.

Harvey shot to his feet, incredulous. “What? The wall collapsed?”

…

By the time he arrived at the scene of the collapse with Rainer and the others, Haru, the head of the Construction Department, had already arrived. Bathed in sweat, he was directing his workers to bring over the alchemical beasts used for construction hoisting. They were quickly lifting the collapsed cut stone blocks from the wall, checking to see if any unfortunate soldiers were crushed underneath.

“Thankfully, there were no patrolling soldiers on this ten-meter-long section of the wall when it collapsed. But we can’t be sure, so we have to clear the entire site to check for survivors…”

Haru scurried over to Harvey’s side, trembling, and muttered with a look of terror and confusion, “When we built the city wall, we strictly followed your lordship’s blueprints and requirements. The ratio of concrete to cut stone is absolutely correct… And we laid thick steel rebar inside each section of the wall. Logically, this shouldn’t have…”

Harvey had no intention of immediately suspecting the simple, honest head of the Construction Department. After all, in this day and age, no one working on a project for a lord would be daring enough to cut corners and line their own pockets right under his nose.

Besides, only this short section of the wall had collapsed. It couldn’t have been an earthquake, landslide, or mudslide.

“Look! There’s a big hole where it collapsed! What’s going on?” a worker clearing the debris cried out in alarm. Everyone quickly gathered around to see.

Only half of the collapsed section’s sturdy foundation remained. The other half had fallen directly into a gaping, dark hole. Peering down, they could see countless shattered stones piled up inside the pit.

Harvey nodded at Rainer, signaling him to release a few Wolf Spider alchemical beasts to crawl down the edge of the pit.

Harvey had equipped these alchemical beasts with an Eye of Reconnaissance spell matrix, which, through Rainer’s alchemical link, allowed them to share their vision for reconnaissance.

“Heavens! My lord, at the bottom of the pit… there’s a giant worm! I can only see half of its body; it’s pinned by the stones. The other half is still somewhere deeper…”

Two Defense Force soldiers with awakened bloodline abilities immediately requested Harvey’s permission. Taking their weapons, they deftly climbed down. A few minutes later, they returned to the surface.

“My lord, it is… it’s a massive worm. It’s… it’s bigger than the thickest, longest Icefields giant python I’ve ever seen… but it isn’t moving. It looks like it was crushed to death by the collapsing wall.”

Harvey was instantly reminded of his first exploration of the northern slope of Raven Ridge. The ruins of the ancient black Mage Tower, located where his castle now stood, seemed to have caved in because a giant pit had suddenly appeared, causing the entire ruin to collapse.

Could it be that this section of the wall and the Mage Tower ruins had both collapsed because this enormous subterranean creature had accidentally dug through the ground beneath them?

He scanned the scene of the collapse and suddenly noticed several jet-black stones mixed in with the gray ones. They looked remarkably similar to the building materials of his own castle.

“When the Construction Department was building the city wall, did they mix the leftover… black stone from the castle’s construction in with the normal materials to build the wall?”

Chapter 190: The Giant Devouring Worm

Under the close watch of a squad of Defense Force soldiers, the skilled workers from the Construction Department operated several alchemical beasts designed for lifting heavy objects, slowly dragging the colossal, mysterious creature out of the pit at the collapse site.

After seeing the creature’s true form, Harvey felt it could no longer be described as a legless reptile like a worm or python. It was nearly thirty meters long, with a thick, powerful front end that tapered toward its tail.

Its body, a full two to three meters in diameter, made the Icefields giant pythons, which were only as thick as a grown man’s waist, look minuscule in comparison.

“Good heavens! Isn’t this the Giant Devouring Worm, long thought to be extinct in legends?”

Egnor, who had hurried over from the infirmary, identified the creature at a glance. He stood beside the worm’s body, unsure if it was dead or alive, marveling at it.

“A Giant Devouring Worm? So this thing really is a worm? What… what does it eat to grow so large?” Haru, the head of the Construction Department, finally cleared of the suspicion of cutting corners, let out a huge sigh of relief.

Egnor had his assistant take out a measuring tape and began measuring the massive worm’s body, jotting down its dimensions. He explained casually, “I happened to read about it in… ah, an ancient biological codex of the High Elves.”

“This colossal insect feeds on minerals and spends its years digging and tunneling deep underground, almost never surfacing.”

Harvey cut Egnor off, asking directly, “Feeds on minerals? Do you mean this unknown black stone?”

Egnor shook his head, replying uncertainly, “I can’t be certain which specific mineral they consume, but it was likely drawn near the surface by its food source, and ended up collapsing the city wall’s foundation…”

He paused before continuing, “However, these worms prefer warmth and fear the cold. During winter, they burrow deep into the earth’s crust, near magma zones, to hibernate. They only become active again once the weather warms.”

Harvey felt a wave of anxiety as he listened. Whether it was witnessing the massive black stone tower’s suspected collapse due to this worm, or the collapse of this concrete city wall, over five meters high and nearly two meters wide, today.

This meant that if this creature’s target food source was indeed the black stone used to build the castle, then he was essentially sleeping in a condemned building that could crumble at any moment.

He had to move out of the castle immediately!

He turned and instructed Egnor, “Can you determine what mineral they ultimately feed on by studying this carcass? If it really is this black stone, then my castle is nothing but a giant, delicious cake in their eyes.”

Egnor’s eyes lit up, and he said excitedly, “I can dissect it right here. We can check its abdomen for any undigested mineral matter. It should be easy to identify…”

The worm’s body was too massive. It would be impractical to transport it back to the infirmary or the castle’s Laboratory with dozens of alchemical camel-beasts. The best solution was to dissect it on the spot.

Under Egnor’s direction, the highly skilled physicians and assistants he had trained at the infirmary quickly erected a large canvas tent. The Defense Force dispersed the crowd of onlookers and the workers dealing with the collapse, and quickly cleared and cordoned off the area.

Harvey walked curiously to the worm’s head. He tilted his head back to look at the prehistoric-sized creature and noticed that even its eyes had degenerated completely. There was only a massive, closed, oval-shaped maw. Through a crack, he could see it was packed with dense, pestle-shaped teeth that weren’t particularly sharp.

He guessed this was because the worm’s diet consisted solely of minerals, meaning it had no need for sharp fangs to prey on other creatures.

The worm’s head was also encircled by scales of a similar color to its skin. Each scale was the size of a small round shield. Harvey figured these had specifically evolved to protect its head while tunneling underground.

“Egnor, why did these worms go extinct? Was it because the minerals they subsisted on became extremely scarce?”

Egnor took out a silver dagger the length of his forearm and made a few gestures over the worm’s huge body. He said casually, “Of course it wasn’t due to a lack of food. The texts say that Giant Devouring Worms have an extremely long growth cycle, a very wide distribution range, and on top of that, they’re prone to entering a state of suspended animation for years at a time when the temperature drops. This led to low reproductive efficiency, and they slowly drifted toward extinction…”

Harvey immediately understood the core of the problem Egnor was describing. A long growth cycle meant they couldn’t quickly mature and reach their reproductive phase. Combined with a vast distribution range, the chances of a male and female worm meeting were incredibly low. Add to that the long, hibernation-like state of dormancy, they would just lie dormant for years on end…

It was as if, on the path of evolution, they had precisely misallocated every single skill point, leading to the species’ natural demise.

“If I’m not mistaken, this is likely the only Giant Devouring Worm living within a fifty-kilometer radius of our territory.” As he spoke, Egnor slid the silver dagger into a crevice in the worm’s coarse, wrinkled skin around its midsection and plunged it in.

The worm, which had been lying motionless like a corpse, suddenly shuddered violently. Then, its head, tightly bound by a noose, shot upward, and a ripple ran through its corpulent body.

“Gods! It’s not dead! It was just knocked out by the rocks!” Rainer cried out in alarm. He and Astaren immediately grabbed Harvey and hauled him out of the temporary tent at top speed.

“Don’t panic! Don’t panic!” Egnor shouted, waving his hands repeatedly. “This thing isn’t aggressive! It was probably the cut that woke it from its stupor…”

He turned to Harvey and asked for instructions, “My lord, the worm is still alive. Should I still proceed with killing and dissecting it to examine its stomach contents for its food source?”

Harvey looked at the gigantic, trembling, yet docile creature. An idea suddenly crossed his mind. He asked, “Is there a way to get the undigested minerals out of its stomach without killing it? Is there some kind of potion that can make it vomit?”

Egnor scratched his head, turned to his assistant, and gave a few quiet instructions. The assistant quickly hurried back to the infirmary.

“Yes, there is a non-toxic potion that can induce vomiting, but… to make a creature this large vomit violently, we’d probably need a dose for dozens of people…”

Before long, the assistant returned, pushing a cart. As expected, he had brought an entire barrel of the potion. Egnor took a thick tube made from rubber fruit, inserted it directly into the worm’s large, circular maw, and began to force-feed it the potion.

The massive worm quickly seemed to feel the potion’s effects. It began to struggle and writhe violently. Its giant mouth, large enough to swallow a bull whole, opened and closed repeatedly, making strange clicking and clacking sounds.

Everyone scrambled away from its head as if their lives depended on it. After another violent spasm, the worm let out a guttural roar and stretched its maw to the limit, spewing out a huge pile of stomach contents coated in thick mucus.

Harvey felt a bit nauseated. He turned his head away, unwilling to look at the sight.

But then he suddenly heard Astaren and Rainer both gasp sharply, and felt Astaren’s grip on his arm tighten abruptly.

“What is it?” He instinctively turned to look at Astaren, then followed the direction he was pointing, his gaze returning to the mountain-like pile of vomit.

Amidst the various shimmering mineral fragments, one glittering object stood out.

It was a massive, translucent crystal ore the size of a coffin, pale yellow like amber!

In the reflection of the sunlight, he could vaguely make out a blurry, human-like figure inside the huge piece of amber.

Something had been sealed within this amber ore, and the Giant Devouring Worm had mistaken it for food and swallowed it…

Harvey’s mouth fell open, and his throat felt a little dry. “Astaren, I think I have a good idea now of how you were sealed in that amber crystal…”

Chapter 191: The Living Tunneling Machine

Under Harvey’s command, the group busied themselves at the scene of the collapsed city wall. It took a convoy of a dozen alchemical camel-beasts to drag the immensely large Giant Devouring Worm back to the large laboratory at the Territory’s Infirmary.

Harvey’s underground laboratory in the castle couldn’t possibly fit this massive, portly creature. Even if they tore down the laboratory’s door and the walls on either side, its front section, larger even than a War Beast, still wouldn’t get through.

The pile of vomit, looking utterly disgusting and covered in a thick, viscous slime, was also shoveled into wooden barrels by the infirmary staff and taken back. This, of course, included the amber ore coffin that sealed the blurry human figure within.

Feeling he had figured out the sequence of events and cleared up his doubts, Harvey reached out and patted Astaren’s iron shoulder reassuringly. “My guess is that you likely lost consciousness by accident and were swallowed along with some minerals by a Giant Devouring Worm. For some reason, you weren’t digested… er, or rather, not expelled. Then, inside its stomach, you reacted with some strange minerals…”

Astaren was silent for a moment before replying, “Like prey swallowed by a giant python. The indigestible parts, like bones and fur, form something called a pellet, which is then regurgitated…”

Rainer, sensing his companion’s low spirits, quickly tried to lighten the mood. “Heh, this worm is quite interesting. It can digest even the hardest ores, yet a living being of flesh and blood like you gives it indigestion…”

Harvey thought this might be one of the reasons the Giant Devouring Worms ultimately went extinct. Their singular food source led to an abnormally picky digestive system. If they accidentally swallowed a foreign object they couldn’t regurgitate, an amber-like substance, almost like a gallstone, would form in their stomach. If these accumulated over time and blocked their digestive system, it would likely shorten their lifespan.

Moreover, the worm’s mental and emotional state was exceptionally stable. Even after being knocked unconscious, waking up to be stabbed, then being trussed up, moved, and dragged about, and even after being forced to ingest a large amount of potion and vomit violently, it showed no particularly intense reaction.

At most, it would let out a few howls from its large mouth, which lacked sharp teeth, or try to twist its huge, clumsy body in an attempt to roll over. After its attempts to escape proved futile, it quieted down, as if resigning itself to its fate. Other than the heaving of its abdomen indicating it was still breathing, it made no other movements.

…

After the Giant Devouring Worm was settled in the infirmary’s laboratory, Egnor began directing his assistants to sort through the disgusting stomach contents, washing them clean and arranging them on the lab bench.

“This is common limestone, partially dissolved… It’s probably not the worm’s main target.”

“Granite? Tsk, completely indigestible. It must have been swallowed by mistake. It would have been regurgitated or excreted after a while.”

“Huh? This black ore used for building the castle—I suspect it’s obsidian—is also in a half-digested state. My lord, you don’t need to worry too much. This shouldn’t be its primary food source either…”

Egnor used tweezers to pick up some of the stomach contents that had dissolved into a sludge. After repeatedly using reagents to restore and compare them, he finally figured out the Giant Devouring Worm’s mineral diet.

It primarily subsisted on gypsum and hematite, and could also manage to digest some chalcopyrite and limestone.

Harvey frowned. “If there’s more than one Giant Devouring Worm in the pioneer territories, wouldn’t my mines be vulnerable to their raids?”

Egnor smiled. “My lord, isn’t that a good thing? If there really are other worms, we won’t have to expend so much effort prospecting for rich ore deposits with manual drilling. These creatures are quite noisy when they move, and they aren’t aggressive. They’re practically natural mineral hounds… er, the extra-large kind.”

Back when he was in the elven kingdoms, he had heard that the Ancient High Elves were skilled at driving and tracking these subterranean creatures, following their movements to prospect for rare mineral deposits buried deep underground.

Hearing the half-elf’s suggestion, a thought sparked in Harvey’s mind. He immediately turned to discuss it with Astaren and Rainer. “Does the munitions factory have any other production tasks besides the mass-production plan for Magical Energy Guns and bullets?”

Rainer pulled out his work manual and flipped through it. “The army is now fully equipped with Magical Energy Guns. Other than the magic bullet production line, which is still running, the production lines for the other alchemical beasts are in a semi-halted state.”

After all, once these mechanical alchemical constructs were deployed, they mostly required routine maintenance and occasional factory repairs. There was no need to keep increasing their numbers after they reached a certain scale. On one hand, the material costs weren’t cheap; on the other, the corresponding number of living souls available for conversion was limited.

Take the Wolf Spider Beasts, the most numerous type, for example. The hunting squads could now hardly find any packs of adult grey wolves within a hundred-mile radius of the territory. To prevent a localized extinction of the species, Harvey had long ago ordered a temporary halt to the hunt, allowing their population to recover.

The populations of monkeys and jungle chimpanzees, the main species for the work-type alchemical beasts, had also been greatly reduced. Hunting parties sometimes even had to venture through the River Valley Outpost and into the Icefields to find any trace of them.

Only the docile animals needed for the agricultural-type alchemical beasts, such as Northern Wild Oxen, pack beasts, and reindeer, could be supplied for alchemical conversion through large-scale ranching within the territory.

Considering this, Harvey instructed Rainer, “Halt all alchemical beast production lines at the munitions factory. Except for Magical Energy Bullets, gather and store all other alchemical materials.”

Rainer was puzzled. “My lord, are you reallocating personnel and materials to create some other kind of alchemical instrument?”

Harvey had Egnor fetch a large sheet of white paper and spread it on the lab bench. He then began to draw with a quill.

“Right now, I only have a preliminary concept. I’ll need to discuss it thoroughly with the new Alchemist, Mr. Chris…”

As he spoke, he sketched rapidly, outlining a strangely shaped alchemical device with just a few strokes.

“This… this length, wow! It looks like a thick, giant python! My lord, don’t tell me you intend to convert this Giant Devouring Worm into… an alchemical creature?”

Rainer and Astaren exclaimed in unison. As befitting assistants who had conducted numerous alchemical conversion experiments with Harvey, they saw his objective at a glance.

Egnor leaned closer and muttered, “The Giant Devouring Worm is dozens of meters long. Can a creature of such immense size really undergo a conversion experiment? How much alchemical material would it take to piece together a suitable soul vessel for it?”

Harvey, exceptionally excited, picked up the sketch and explained with a smile, “The required alchemical materials and the construction of the vessel should be no problem at all, given the territory’s current metal ore production.”

Besides, some enchanted metals and precision alchemical components could be purchased and imported into the territory through the Esoteric Society. With a large-scale teleportation array providing inter-planar transport, the vast distances weren’t a concern.

After all, what he wanted to convert and create was nothing less than a machine embedded with the soul of a Giant Devouring Worm, possessing powerful drilling and excavation capabilities, as well as the ability to prospect for minerals with precision—a Living Tunneling Machine!

Chapter 192: Project Pangolin

At the crack of dawn, Harvey, surrounded by his personal guard of more than a dozen Bloodline Warriors, mounted a massive Mammoth War Beast and departed from the south gate. He was heading for the mountain junction located between the northern slope of Raven Ridge and the southern edge of the pioneer territories.

The once-dense and rugged primeval forest along the route had already been extensively cleared. Under the round-the-clock efforts of the Construction Department, a concrete and gravel road had been built straight to the foot of the mountain, wide enough for three giant War Beasts to travel side-by-side.

Near the mountain cliffs, a high concrete wall topped with barbed wire came into view. It enclosed a steep cliff face, and tall wooden watchtowers stood at its three corners. A few Defense Force soldiers stood atop them, constantly scanning the horizon to provide early warnings. Several squads of soldiers were also arranged to patrol densely outside the wall.

The defensive measures here were already comparable to the core area of the Lord’s Castle where Harvey resided, even more stringent than the munitions factory that required strict secrecy.

Harvey dismounted from the War Beast and, under the salutes of the soldiers and officers, walked through the open iron gates.

The scene inside the high walls immediately made his entourage gasp in amazement. On the enclosed cliff face, there was a massive cave entrance reinforced with concrete. Its height and width were nearly identical, with a diameter of over five meters.

A huge iron gate was slowly raised by worker alchemical beasts operating a hoist. This was a heavy metal gate that Harvey had commissioned the Foundry and the steel mills to forge together, a task that had taken half a month. To build this secret base, Harvey had consumed nearly an entire month’s iron ore output from the domain’s mines.

The group followed Harvey into the cave, and the light inside instantly dimmed.

The few Bloodline Warriors leading the way immediately took out light-emitting magic stones, fixed them on metal stands, and held them high to illuminate the path for their lord.

“My lord, did you bring that half-dead Giant Devouring Worm here to conduct the soul transformation experiment for alchemical lifeforms? Was it really a success?” Rainer asked in a low, perplexed voice as they walked.

Harvey nodded, his voice echoing faintly in the vast, hollow space of the mountain. “That’s right. The creature was far too large to be transformed in the underground laboratory in the castle. Besides, its soul vessel… is also custom-made and needed to be completed here.”

Astaren, walking by Harvey’s side, sighed softly. “Even after seeing the sketches you drew yourself, my lord, I still can’t imagine what form an alchemical lifeform transformed from a colossal creature like the Giant Devouring Worm, which has existed since ancient times, could possibly take…”

After a brief conversation, the group gradually approached a brightly lit area ahead.

It was a huge cavern that seemed to be a naturally formed space within the mountain. Except for the ground, which had been leveled and hardened, the cavern’s ceiling and surrounding walls remained in their original state. Long stalactites hung from above, with the occasional drop of water falling from them.

The cavern, about the size of two or three soccer fields, was almost entirely illuminated by numerous light-emitting magic stones suspended in various places. With no natural light or ventilation, it felt somewhat stuffy and oppressive.

But the group’s attention was not on the cavern’s structure at all. Instead, their eyes were glued to the gigantic alchemical instrument in the center of the open space, an apparatus so massive it was terrifying.

Harvey walked up to the colossal instrument with a smile and stood beside it. His height of just under 1.8 meters only reached a third of the machine’s height, making him look like a slender antelope standing next to a giant mammoth.

“Seven meters high, thirty-five meters long, six meters in diameter… This is the soul vessel of the Giant Devouring Worm. I now name it—the Magical Energy Tunnel Boring Machine!”

Chris, who had assisted Harvey throughout this crucial transformation experiment, was witnessing and participating in this top-tier alchemical secret art involving Life Alchemy and soul constructs for the first time. Although more than a week had passed since the experiment’s completion, he was still overcome with emotion. Gazing at this massive Alchemical construct, which resembled a prehistoric beast, his eyes reddened and his body trembled slightly.

“A masterful creation on par with Life Alchemy, a brilliant experimental concept and alchemical theory… My lord’s soul transformation experiment is countless times more brilliant than those genius alchemists from the Esoteric Society, who are lost in their delusions of a Man-made God!”

The others spread out, circling the enormous alchemical behemoth, examining it from every angle and exclaiming in constant praise.

The Magical Energy Tunnel Boring Machine was covered in extremely thick metal armor. Through the tightly welded seams, one could see the precise alchemical components and metal structures assembled within. Most of the enchanted metal was densely engraved with countless energy-driving inscriptions.

The head of the machine was particularly peculiar in shape, composed of a giant, cone-shaped metal construct with a surface covered in screw-like grooves. The entire cone shone with a dark golden luster under the light of the magic stones.

Astaren remained silent for a moment before suddenly asking, “My lord, is the head of this behemoth forged entirely from Phantomlight Copper, a unique metal mineral of the Demons?”

He vaguely remembered that during the previous valley battle against the vile orcs, the territory’s army had captured a batch of the rare magical mineral, weighing two to three hundred kilograms and worth at least one hundred thousand gold pounds. It was indeed Phantomlight Copper.

Harvey chuckled lightly, turning to glance at Chris, signaling for him to explain.

Chris tugged at the collar of his robe and replied with a pained expression, “This was my lord’s decision… He insisted on using such an expensive and rare magical material to forge the head of this machine. The effect, however, is remarkable. When this behemoth is activated, the super-conductivity of the Phantomlight Copper in its head greatly enhances its true self’s innate talent for mineral detection. In fact, this very cavern inside the mountain was located and discovered by it…”

Rainer, however, keenly picked up on a problem in Chris’s words and asked in disbelief, “Activated? How much magical energy is needed to activate such a massive alchemical beast? In the entire territory, I’m afraid only the Planet-level Energy-gathering Array that you personally assembled, my lord, can output enough energy to charge it, right?”

The territory currently had only three Continent-level Energy-gathering Arrays, which were installed in the munitions factory to handle the transformation and charging of alchemical beasts. They also had to power the production lines for Magical Energy Guns and Magical Energy Bullets, meaning they were already operating at full capacity.

As for the Planet-level Energy-gathering Array, it was responsible for the stable operation of the Magic Net Casters Forum and supplying energy to several large Magic Net teleportation arrays. It couldn’t easily be moved elsewhere. Even Astaren and Rainer’s daily charging had to be done within the Castle District, which was covered by its energy network.

Harvey had anticipated that Rainer and the others would have such questions. He smiled and had Chris’s alchemy apprentices walk to the other side of the cavern, pull the tarps off a set of alchemical instruments, and reveal them to everyone.

“Remember the Demons’ Blood-Awakening Instrument and the magical energy potion injection experiment?”

Harvey pointed to dozens of new instruments lined up neatly. They looked very similar to the Blood-Awakening Instrument but were clearly several times larger. “I had Chris dismantle the original instrument and replicate this batch of enhanced models. They are used to convert the pure, solid magical energy rich in the Energy-devouring beetles’ bodies into high-concentration liquid magical energy. By injecting it into the magical-powered engine inside this machine, it can be perfectly activated and operated…”

Astaren asked, puzzled, “But the Blood-Awakening Instrument also requires the flesh and blood of magical creatures to convert and prepare the magical energy potion. Where did we get those materials? There are no traces of magical creature activity around the territory…”

Chris laughed heartily. “Ah, don’t you forget! The enormous body left behind after this Giant Devouring Worm underwent soul transformation—isn’t that the best source of magical creature flesh and blood?”

What a perfect self-sustaining cycle, taking from the living worm to use on the alchemical worm…

The group immediately fell into a collective, brief silence, stunned by this slightly mad experimental procedure.

Harvey clapped his hands to draw everyone’s attention back to him and announced seriously, “Next, I will launch an operation called Project Pangolin…”

He would form a mineral exploration team composed of Bloodline Warriors and alchemy apprentices. Under the guidance and leadership of this giant worm alchemical beast, they would conduct deep excavation and drilling along the Spine of the Continent Mountains, searching for all rare minerals of high value.

This plan was a powerful idea that had begun to form in Harvey’s mind after he chanced upon a historical research paper in the ancient documents uploaded by the Federation to the Magic Encyclopedia.

Using detailed historical records and decades of survey data, that paper attempted to prove a terrifying hypothesis—that all the magic stone deposits in the southern nations originated from the Spine of the Continent Mountains, which stretched across the middle of the entire continent.

And deep beneath the Spine of the Continent Mountains, there was a high probability of one or more magic stone vein cores!

Chapter 193: The Conflict Between Academia and Faith

Harvey practically had to time himself to pull away from his tedious experiments, managing to sit down before the Magic Brain instrument just as the castle clock struck nine in the evening.

He really didn’t want to miss this week’s Spellcaster gathering. An issue involving the Federation’s internal factional conflicts had already been repeatedly discussed on the Forum. Although it was all private discussions among small groups of members, Harvey, as the Forum Administrator who could eavesdrop in all directions, had a basic grasp of the whole story.

The matter had stemmed from the research paper he had published anonymously. After being widely distributed throughout the spellcasting world by the Federation’s official bulletin, it had finally fermented into the inevitable outcome of conflicting secular opinions and ideologies.

Within the Federation, there had always been Spellcasters whose positions clearly leaned toward the Church, or who were less devout followers themselves. Most of them came from the ancient Spellcaster families of the Seven Wizard Kingdoms—typical religious conservatives.

As these Spellcasters aged and their family influence waned, their own research into the path of magic often stagnated, and the growth of their spellcasting abilities gradually hit a bottleneck. Inevitably, they would then fall into a state of ideological and cognitive confusion.

“The source of magic, the existence of the soul, the laws of the world…” These questions would undoubtedly trouble them deeply, yet they were powerless to find answers within the existing body of magical knowledge. In the end, they could only choose to believe in the existence of gods, attributing all unknowns to divine might and becoming a special group of faithful believers within the wizard community.

This led to Harvey’s anonymous paper—after Chief Kemer Salas single-handedly assessed it and had it publicly published—completely offending this group of Spellcaster believers.

[Son of Flame: Hmph, these fence-sitters aren’t questioning the Review Council’s assessment of the paper. What they’re really worried about is offending the Church, which would break the covenant and prevent them from playing both sides between the Federation and the Church.]

[Frost Giant: Don’t forget, Administrator Turing himself said that the Forum is a forum for “Spellcasters.” If we can’t stand on the same side, I suggest they get the hell out of the Forum sooner rather than later!]

Harvey tapped his fingers on the desk. These two Forum members, whose personalities usually clashed, were now echoing each other with exceptional rapport. It seemed they had formed a temporary alliance beforehand and were now openly and subtly mocking the neutral, conservative members on the Forum.

[Spellshield: A large number of Spellcaster families with close ties to the Federation have now publicly expressed their dissatisfaction with this paper and… its author. They are jointly protesting, demanding a revocation of this research document’s value assessment and asking the Review Council to disclose the author’s identity.]

Just as he thought! Harvey couldn’t help but feel relieved that he had chosen to publish his paper anonymously through the Forum. If he had submitted it openly to the Federation or revealed his true identity on the Forum and had another member submit it on his behalf, he would have likely been thrown into the eye of the storm by now.

The goal of those conservatives within the Federation was very clear: to appease the Church’s dissatisfaction and shift the conflict between the two organizations, they undoubtedly needed to push forward an independent target, thereby proving this was not an official action sanctioned by the Federation.

On this issue, Harvey could almost say he sympathized completely. As a Necromancer discriminated against within the Federation and simultaneously targeted, suppressed, and viewed with hostility by the Church, the injustices his faction of Spellcasters had suffered were simply too numerous to count.

[Stormwalker: If even the members of the Spellcaster Forum cannot reach a consensus and allow our own members to be targeted by the Church, then it completely violates the original purpose for which the Forum was founded. I’m sure Mr. Turing would never approve of it!]

This gentleman was also one of the first members on the Forum to publicly oppose the Church’s actions. After all, one of his students had died innocently in a bloody purge by the Church’s witch hunters.

That tragedy had also directly triggered the Spellcaster Forum’s first offline collaboration: a secret revenge mission involving several high-rank Spellcasters, led by “Son of Flame.” The result, naturally, was a resounding victory, with all the witch hunters annihilated.

Harvey had long ago secretly marked “Stormwalker,” “Son of Flame,” and the several others who participated in that revenge mission. This group was clearly the most anti-Church radical faction within the southern wizard kingdom and the Federation of Casters—people to whom he could extend a certain degree of trust and alliance.

Among the older members, “Spellshield,” an official within the Federation, and the two “Man in the Mirror” gentlemen from the Alchemical Exploration Society had to remain silent on such issues, unable to publicly state their leanings due to their sensitive identities.

Although several of the non-human Spellcasters were vehemently opposed in their words, they wouldn’t actually step in to help in the real world unless their own and their clans’ interests were involved, making their stance somewhat ambiguous.

But the ones Harvey was most focused on right now were the two Legendary Casters from the Federation whose true identities he had already uncovered—“The Scorching Sovereign” and “Shadow Knight.”

He wanted to see if, without Administrator Turing personally intervening, these two nominal supreme leaders of the Federation would choose to withstand the internal pressure and the Church’s public opposition to protect an independent Spellcaster they had never met.

It is human nature that no one works for free. Harvey had already extended an olive branch representing his own value to them—that powerful, era-transcending Anti-Demon energy weapon.

If they were willing to bear all the pressure from reality and trouble from the outside world for him, Harvey would naturally be willing to hand over the imitation formula or mass-produced versions of this weapon. He would do everything in his power to help the Federation gain an overwhelming advantage in the subsequent fight against the Demons, allowing them to earn a reputation among the southern kingdoms and the secular nobility that surpassed the Church’s.

If the Federation could independently resist a large-scale invasion of the Demons without needing a wartime alliance with the Church, it would mean the alliance between them would become insignificant. Those fence-sitting nobles and wizard families who played both sides would have to choose which side to stand on.

[The Scorching Sovereign: Regarding the opposition and protests from the Church, @Kel'Thuzad, you have no need to worry. On behalf of myself and Mr. Shadow Knight, I personally guarantee that we will absolutely not disclose the paper's author's identity, nor will we expose any specific member information from the Spellcaster Forum…]

[Shadow Knight: However… members within the Federation representing the southern wizard families, led by a high-rank Archmage from the Blackstone City battle mage corps, have publicly declared their intention to challenge Mr. Kel’Thuzad to a “Truth Debate.” This is a tradition handed down from the ancient wizard era, and we cannot refute or oppose this proposal.]

Harvey was stunned. He racked his brain, trying to recall all the relevant details about the “Truth Debate” from the history he had learned at the Necromancy Academy. It was indeed a tradition that had existed since the age of ancient wizards. When two factions of Spellcasters had conflicting views on certain magical doctrines and theories, to avoid escalating to blows at the slightest disagreement, they would usually choose to resolve the issue through a one-on-one academic debate, witnessed by a Legendary Caster or the ancient wizard council.

After all, if beings who had obtained extraordinary powers like Spellcasters started a brawl over factional academic disputes, the resulting destruction and scope of impact would be devastating. A small town could be ground to dust in an instant. It was something that absolutely had to be strictly controlled and prohibited.

But Harvey’s magical theories and research direction were extremely niche and involved forbidden subjects. If he were to really face off against a long-famous Archmage in a debate, he would probably be defeated within ten minutes, completely unable to resist.

After all, he was only a mid-rank Mage masquerading as a high-level caster on the Spellcaster Forum. His reserves of magical knowledge and the breadth of his thinking simply weren’t at a high-rank level.

[Frost Giant: Excellent! A “Truth Debate” is a rare sight these days. I don’t think any member of our Forum would fear such a challenge. Hmph! A battle mage wants to have an academic debate with Mr. Kel’Thuzad? He’s simply asking for humiliation. Doesn’t he know the author of the paper is a research-type Spellcaster?]

[The Scorching Sovereign: What that high-rank Archmage originally wanted to propose was actually another ancient tradition for resolving disputes—a “Spell Duel.” But Mr. Shadow Knight and I rejected his request on the spot, so he was forced to change it to a “Truth Debate”…]

[Son of Flame: What? A “Spell Duel”? He, a high-rank battle mage, is challenging a research-type Spellcaster to a spell duel? How shameless! A disgrace to mages! I vehemently oppose this!]

[Man in the Mirror: Indeed, this is completely against the tradition of fairness and justice. I also firmly object!]

[Stormwalker: Despicable! He’s doing this because he’s afraid he can’t beat Mr. Kel’Thuzad in an academic debate, which is why he made such a rude request for a spell duel. What? Does he want to physically destroy a researcher’s body to destroy his academic ideas and research findings?]

For a moment, the Forum gathering was a scene of public outcry. The Spellcasters who leaned toward Harvey’s side spoke out in angry curses and mockery, expressing their dissatisfaction and contempt for this act of using ancient wizard traditions as a roundabout way to suppress and persecute an independent Spellcaster.

The two Legendary Chiefs were also helpless. After all, they could only stand against external opposition from the Church; they were powerless against this ancient tradition that had been inherited and existed within the Federation for hundreds of years.

The saying “truth is in the hands of the few” was certainly not wrong, but if it needed further explanation, its true, complete meaning was—truth is in the hands of the surviving few, because most of the losers had already been blasted to bits by high-circle spells in a spell duel…

[Kel’Thuzad: Thank you all for your support. Since a colleague within the spellcasting community has issued a protest and a challenge to me, then out of my adherence to truth and knowledge, I must also respond to their provocation.]

[Son of Flame: Well said! Mr. Kel’Thuzad, you have nothing to fear. I will personally attend the “Truth Debate” in Araye and publicly express my support for you!]

[Man in the Mirror: I will also be there in person to publicly support Mr. Kel’Thuzad!]

[Kel’Thuzad: Uh… everyone, what I mean is, since the other party is a battle mage, the challenge I intend to accept is actually a one-on-one “Spell Duel” with him.]

…

Chapter 194: The Truth Debate (Part 1)

For a moment, Fell Hoden couldn’t tell if his eyes were playing tricks on him or if Kel’Thuzad had lost his mind.

He stared, wide-eyed and stunned, for a good few minutes. After Kel’Thuzad sent his message, the forum gathering fell into an instant silence. Fell Hoden was at a complete loss for words.

“A research-type Spellcaster is actually demanding a one-on-one Spell Duel with a high-rank battle mage?”

It had to be said in anger! Absolutely! An independent Spellcaster with few resources or status, faced with such unfair and biased opposition, must have been boiling with rage. That was the only reason he would rashly demand to “exchange spells on a physical level” with his opponent, wanting to wash away the insult and contempt with blood and magic…

Thinking this, Fell found it somewhat understandable. He muttered to himself, “Sigh… it’s one thing to be angry, but doesn’t this guy consider his own situation? You’re an academic beanpole, so frail a gust of wind could knock you over. What makes you think you can fight directly against magical brutes like us who’ve undergone physical modification?”

Of course, research-type Spellcasters—jokingly called “academic beanpoles” by battle mages—were the majority on the Spellcaster Forum. He wouldn’t dare send a message with such a teasing and slightly discriminatory term for an in-your-face taunt on the Forum.

Otherwise, before Kel’Thuzad’s duel even began, he, Fell Hoden, would have the honor of being challenged to a “Truth Debate” by a whole host of research-type Spellcasters from the Forum.

Carefully choosing his words, Fell quickly tapped the keys and began to painstakingly persuade his impulsive “academic beanpole” of a fellow forum member.

【Son of Flame: @Mr. Kel’Thuzad, you’re being too reckless! It’s common knowledge that a research-type Spellcaster can’t fight a high-rank battle mage, isn’t it? Your opponent won’t show you any mercy in the duel. You’ll be killed on the spot!】

【Man in the Mirror: Caution! Caution! Researchers shouldn’t confront those spell-crazed fanatics head-on. Academic disputes should be resolved through debate in the halls of truth!】

【Stormwalker: I understand Mr. Kel’Thuzad’s anger. This isn’t a petty squabble; it’s a battle for honor… I wonder if there’s any precedent in past traditions for a close companion or friend to fight a Spell Duel in one’s place? If there is, I can…】

【Shadow Knight: No. In the traditions of the ancient wizards, both the challenger and the challenged must face each other personally. No substitutes are allowed. This is the only way to ensure fairness!】

This “Stormwalker,” whom he had never met, was actually willing to take his place in a life-or-death Spellcaster duel. Although the main reason was likely the member’s natural hostility toward factions close to the Church, this offer of help and protection still moved Harvey unexpectedly.

Of course, it also indirectly proved that this high-level caster, permanently stationed on the Evil Moon Mountain Range battlefield, was extremely confident in his own combat prowess. He clearly believed he could completely overpower and defeat the opponent who had initiated the duel.

Harvey scratched his head and muttered, “The challenger is also from a Mage Corps in the Evil Moon Mountain Range. Could it be that the two of them have some irreconcilable conflict in real life? Is Stormwalker trying to use this opportunity to strike at him?”

However, his decision to accept the Spell Duel was not an impulsive act born from a wounded ego. Rather, he intended to use this opportunity to test the power of his self-created, transcendent-rank spell.

In any case, Harvey had no intention of personally traveling to Araye and risking his life in a meaningless duel. He possessed the secret ability to travel freely through the Magic Net and strike enemies directly with an Energy Beam. Dealing with an ordinary high-rank battle mage would be effortless.

Furthermore, he didn’t need Shadow Knight, Stormwalker, or anyone else to locate the target for him. He just needed to ask Mr. Mind Devil for help again. The Mind Devil’s “devout followers” lurking near the Evil Moon Mountain Range could secretly locate the Spellcaster, who was frequently active on the battlefield. It would be easy to kill the opponent directly without ever revealing his own identity.

The Church’s high-ranking Chief Inquisitor in the Evil Moon Mining Area died from a Devil summoning. If a battle mage from the Federation and the wizard kingdom died in the same way, what would be suspicious about that? Besides, Mr. Mind Devil wouldn’t mind taking the fall.

What Harvey truly wanted to rely on were the three strange shell puppets stored on the mystical beach within his Mental Anchor, which he could incubate and control!

He could use them to plant a Mental Seed and then, with his soul separation ability, remotely control a puppet for the Spell Duel. Even if he lost, the loss wouldn’t be significant, and he would gain a wealth of experimental data. Why wouldn’t he do it?

If Kel’Thuzad died, so be it. Harvey had a whole stable of inactive smurf accounts on the Forum ready to use at a moment’s notice. At worst, he would just have to re-establish a cooperative relationship with these members.

【Kel’Thuzad: Everyone, I understand your concern and goodwill, but I have already decided to accept the duel challenge. Please trust in my abilities. I have a way to deal with the battle mage who publicly opposed me.】

【Spellshield: This… this is far too risky!】

【Frost Giant: Mr. Kel’Thuzad, I urge you to reconsider! I don’t want to lose a friendly forum member, my friend!】

【Hand of Elements: Should we ask Mr. Turing to step in and dissuade Mr. Kel’Thuzad? I think his head’s been clouded by anger and humiliation… Sigh!】

Watching the members send message after message trying to talk him down, Harvey couldn’t help but grin and chuckle to himself.

Even Administrator Mr. Turing wouldn’t be able to dissuade Mr. Kel’Thuzad. After all, including Observer Neumann, they were all Harvey’s various forum smurf accounts, layered like nesting dolls to form a trinity of online identities.

【The Scorching Sovereign: Since Mr. Kel’Thuzad is so insistent, there’s nothing we can do. Everyone, please respect his thoughts and his choice! I believe that, as he said, he has a way to handle this duel…】

Harvey raised an eyebrow. He thought this Legendary Caster from the Forum was truly a shrewd old fox. He had most likely figured out that Harvey had some kind of powerful trump card, and might even suspect that Administrator Turing would secretly help him.

After all, Mr. Turing was believed to be an ancient, secretive, non-human entity. Since he had been willing to act against the Church’s high-ranking Chief Inquisitor in the Evil Moon Mining Area at his request, it was entirely plausible that he would be willing to secretly assist a forum member in a Spell Duel.

【Kel’Thuzad: Mr. Scorching Sovereign, may I have a formal promise from the Federation that this Spell Duel will not be made public, but will be conducted in secret, witnessed only by the Federation’s upper echelons? I don’t want to expose my anonymous identity…】

【Shadow Knight: A completely reasonable request. We already promised not to expose your identity. How about this… I can lend you a legendary-level magic artifact. It has no offensive or defensive capabilities; its only function is to conceal your unique magical fluctuations and hide your physical appearance. No spell or divine art detection can penetrate it.】

【The Scorching Sovereign: I agree to this request. The duel will take place within the Celestial Domain’s Mage Tower in Araye, under the direct witness of three Federation Chiefs… All internal faction members involved will be bound by a secrecy pact. Aside from the result of the duel, no additional information will be revealed!】

Chapter 195: The Battle for Truth (Part 2)

Rainer and Astaren, busy with their duties outside, simultaneously received Harvey’s summons and hurried back to the underground laboratory in the castle.

Stepping through the laboratory doors, they saw a stranger lying on a metal table in the center of the spacious hall—a table used for alchemical soul transfer experiments. The person was completely naked, covered only by a thin blanket.

“Who… who is this? My lord, is this a resident from the territory you’ve found to participate in a spell experiment?” Rainer asked, his eyes wide with confusion.

Harvey had his back to his two assistants, busy leaning over the experimental table. Without looking up, he replied, “Of course not. How could I casually let my residents participate in dangerous live experiments? This is just a puppet shell I created.”

Astaren approached the stranger lying on the table with closed eyes and observed him carefully for a moment. “Could this be a puppet created with the occult art of Flesh Reshaping, using the Demon’s Blood we unexpectedly acquired from the vile orcs?”

He couldn’t resist extending a metal finger to poke the puppet’s body a few times, clicking his tongue in admiration. “So lifelike, no different from a Living Corpse. If we could solidify alchemical inscriptions and arrays within its body and transfer a living soul into it, wouldn’t that be a true realization of Life Alchemy?”

Rainer also came closer, smacking his lips and offering a cautious assessment, “Why does this creation of Flesh Reshaping… look so strange? It seems to be human, but its appearance is completely different from southerners. Black hair and pale yellow skin, and its body is so slender. It looks like a malnourished non-human youth…”

Harvey struggled to suppress a laugh. The common appearance of humans in this world was somewhat similar to Westerners on Earth—typically with various hair and eye colors, and fair skin that reddened easily.

Burrowing Dwarves mostly had brown skin, Elves had varying shades of green skin like plants, and Demons and vile orcs generally had deep red skin…

They had, of course, never seen someone with the East Asian features of Harvey’s true self from Earth.

“I do indeed want to use this puppet shell to conduct a soul transfer experiment. However, it’s completely different from a Living Corpse. It’s a true empty shell of flesh and blood, without a single trace of a residual soul.”

Harvey manipulated a Mage Hand to pick up a transparent orb shimmering with a strange light—this was “Gallagher’s Phantom Eye,” a Legendary support magic artifact, a friendly contribution from Mr. Shadow Knight.

It had no offensive or defensive capabilities, but it could completely conceal the holder’s own mana fluctuations and physical appearance, making them undetectable by any divine arts or magic of the same rank.

Its only flaw was that its effect didn’t last long. A single activation lasted only six hours, and a Spellcaster could only use the artifact’s phantom effect three times in their lifetime. Exceeding this limit would cause irreversible side effects, preventing the holder from ever returning to their original appearance and even causing them to transform into a deformed monster of flesh and blood.

The six-hour duration was enough for him to travel to Araye via the continental teleportation array, activate the artifact before the duel began, and make this puppet shell—clearly modified through alchemy and experiments—simulate the mana fluctuations of a real person, concealing the connection from his soul separation…

“I called you two over to help me complete the modification of this puppet. Come! First, help me replace and transplant this Phantom Eye into the puppet’s right eye…”

After all, this was a flesh-and-blood puppet that looked exactly like his past true self. The thought of cutting into it to complete the experiment still made Harvey’s skin crawl, so he could only have his alchemical assistants do it for him.

Rainer walked over to a nearby rack of alchemical components, quickly assembling the mechanical tentacles on his back. He took the implant from Harvey and said with a hint of unease, “My lord, are you really going to travel a thousand miles to Araye all by yourself to accept a duel challenge from some… damn Archmage? I still think it’s far too dangerous.”

Astaren immediately chimed in, “Indeed. It is a very dangerous move, and with little to gain… other than a bit of prestige in the Spellcaster community, I see nothing worth risking.”

Harvey smiled and shook his head, not wanting to explain the specific reasons in too much detail. After all, the anomaly of his Mental Anchor and his special ability to perform soul separation were intrinsically linked to his secret identity as a Transmigrator. He couldn’t casually reveal this, not even to those closest to him.

“I’m not going alone. Aren’t I taking two personal guards who have awakened their bloodline talents with me? Besides, Araye is located in the center of the continent’s magical civilization. Under the strict control of the Federation, there won’t be any danger. As for the Spell Duel… I have a secret agreement with the Chief of the Federation. They absolutely will not stand by and watch me fall into a life-or-death crisis.”

The main purpose of this trip to Araye, aside from using the Spell Duel to prove his abilities to the high-rank members of the Federation who leaned towards the Spellcaster Forum, was something else.

The more important reason was that Harvey wanted to see for himself if they were worthy of his future “technical investment.” After all, his pioneer territory, isolated in the Northern Barren Lands, wouldn’t remain hidden forever. It would eventually be exposed to various powers. If the Federation could stand behind him as a backer at that time, it would save him from many internal human conspiracies and troubles.

Harvey felt it was also time to secretly reveal the identity of Kel’Thuzad—the Spellcaster Forum’s agent in the real world—to those high-rank Forum members with Federation backgrounds…

…

Rainer and Astaren quickly and skillfully completed the experimental procedure Harvey had assigned, implanting “Gallagher’s Phantom Eye” into the flesh puppet’s right eye.

Through physical contact, Harvey directly activated the strange effect of soul separation between himself and the puppet. Using the puppet body’s senses to guide his mental energy into the Magic Net, he found that he could indeed activate the sigils within the Magic Net just like his true self, and could freely cast the offensive spells inscribed upon them.

Rainer continued to chatter on, nagging Harvey with suggestions, “It’s one thing not to take me and Mr. Astaren, but why not even Pierce? Even if Pierce isn’t suitable, isn’t there another Northern Army officer who has awakened the formidable Annihilation bloodline talent? And taking a huge step back, Egnor is an experienced mid-rank Mage and a nature-type spellcaster who can instantly heal all kinds of injuries. He even lived in Araye for a while and could act as a guide…”

Harvey felt as if an alchemical fly were buzzing in his head. He quickly covered his ears and explained, “Your and Astaren’s identities are absolutely taboo. No amount of disguise could evade the detection of the Federation’s high-rank and Legendary Casters! If I take you two there, I’ll only be able to bring back a pile of parts on a cart when I return!”

“As for Pierce, his identity as a high-rank Vampire would make those Spellcasters drool. He’s a living, rare spellcasting component! Even if he isn’t tied to a stake by the Church and burned to a crisp by scorching holy light, he’d be imprisoned in some high-rank Spellcaster’s laboratory and have all his blood drained…”

As for some of the Bloodline Warriors who are half-orcs, not to mention anything else, just their faces with those massive mouths, tusks, and distorted bestial features would be enough for the worldly magic gentlemen of Araye to greet them with a great fireball to the face.

Half-orcs, those mixed-blood mongrels with human ancestry, are even more reviled and ostracized by them than vile orcs.

Chapter 196: The City of Magic, Araye

Bright, almost dazzling summer sunlight, and fresh air tinged with the scent of flowers and grass.

A luxurious, four-wheeled, two-horse carriage traveled smoothly down a straight, hardened dirt road. On its side was a conspicuous emblem of a crimson flame and a golden ring—the official mark of Oland’s premier merchant guild, the Dragonstone Merchant Guild.

Harvey, along with Tommy and Wayne, who had been chosen as his personal guards, had secretly crossed the mountains from the pioneer territories to reach his own warehouse in Jackdaw Town. There, they were covertly picked up by a waiting Dragonstone Merchant Guild convoy and taken to the Da’ers branch. From there, they used the Federation’s internal teleportation array in Da’ers to travel directly to Oland, the wizard kingdom closest to Araye.

This long and winding journey, made simple by the convenience of the teleportation array, took them less than three days.

Upon arriving in Oland, they decided against using the Federation’s teleportation array to reach Araye. Instead, they gladly accepted a luxurious carriage gifted to them by an old acquaintance, Mr. George Santos. They traveled leisurely toward the City of Magic along the main road built with Federation funds, only needing to stop overnight at roadside inns.

While in Da’ers, Tommy and Wayne had quickly learned to ride horses and drive carriages under the instruction of the guild’s grooms. Now, they took turns driving the carriage, allowing Harvey to rest comfortably inside the enclosed cabin.

“My lord, this carriage thing… it can carry more people, but it’s just so slow.” Tommy’s mouth was never idle for a moment. After awakening his bloodline talent, he felt a natural desire to be close to his bloodline liege.

Harvey was half-reclining on the soft cushions inside the carriage, the flesh-and-blood puppet he’d brought along sitting upright beside him. Seeing the “Quick-witted one” poke his head into the cabin again, eager to chat, he couldn’t help but chuckle and ask the more composed Wayne, “Wayne, what do you think? How does this carriage compare to the bicycles we make in our territory?”

Wayne pursed his lips and answered honestly, “If it’s for driving you, my lord, then of course the carriage is more suitable. But personally, I prefer the bicycle. It’s more agile and easier to control…”

He thought for a moment before adding, “But overall, neither of them can compare to the latest vehicle you developed… the Magic Motorcycle! I only got to test drive it once, but I’ll never forget that feeling of moving like the wind. It was incredible!”

It was a heavy, horse-shaped mechanical contraption that the rider sat on. Twisting the two horizontal handlebars on the front activated the steel beast, sending it speeding through the rugged, uneven mountain paths of the Northern Realm’s dense forests.

Combined with the superior vision and reflexes of a Bloodline Warrior, one could maneuver this magical mount to swiftly evade any obstacle. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to describe its speed as flying just above the ground.

Tommy hadn’t been lucky enough to get a chance to test drive one. He looked at Harvey with a yearning expression and pleaded, “My lord, when will we get to have Magic Motorcycles? Commander Pierce said they were war vehicles you custom-designed for us. Is that true?”

Harvey gave a wry smile. “Building them is easy, but making them run consumes a huge amount of liquid magical energy. Just those few test drives you all did used up nearly the entire reserve in the munitions factory. Don’t even dream about it for the time being… When the shield tunneling machine in the Spine of the Continent Mountains drills into the core of a magical energy ore vein, then you’ll each get a Magic Motorcycle.”

…

The day was still young. The carriage continued its steady journey, and soon they could see the magnificent, massive city on the horizon… along with the Celestial Domain’s Mage Tower, floating above it like a colossal white beast.

Driving the carriage, Tommy sighed in a low voice, “Good heavens, the women here are so beautiful! Look at their clothes, completely different from ours. They look so expensive, and the colors are so vibrant. Tsk, tsk…”

Wayne, in an equally low voice, explained to the country bumpkin Tommy, “See that? Those people in dark black robes with patterned emblems on their collars and cuffs are the Spellcasters my lord mentioned. And those fellows in pure white robes and soft hats are the damned Church personnel…”

As for the rest of the ordinary travelers and pedestrians, they mostly wore light, short, pale-colored clothing, making the difference in status between them and the Spellcasters clear at a glance.

Harvey also peeked his head out and said with a light laugh, “No need to be so tense. In Araye, no Spellcaster or Priest is allowed to casually use magic to attack others. However, both Spellcasters and Priests have a status equivalent to that of mortal nobles, so you can’t offend them lightly. Otherwise, you’ll be punished by the Federation and the Church jointly. The punishment could be a fine, or in serious cases, imprisonment.”

The ground-level gates of Araye were always wide open, with not a single guard on duty to inspect anyone. This free flow of a tide-like crowd was a symbol of the City of Magic’s strength, as well as its atmosphere of freedom and tolerance.

Not long after driving the carriage into the city amidst the flow of traffic and people, Harvey saw a group of youths in deep blue magic apprentice robes gathered around an official Spellcaster near a small garden square. They were watching him use his magical abilities to catalyze the growth of a patch of newly planted flowers.

“These people must be the students and instructors from the most prestigious magic academy on the entire continent—the Araye Magic Academy…”

When Harvey first set foot on the path of magic, he too had once fantasized about getting into this supreme hall of magic through his own talent, to begin his own journey of exploring truth and knowledge.

But after he managed to save up enough for a private tutor to begin his magical education, he learned from his part-time magic tutor that the Araye Magic Academy was not something a child from a small country town could ever hope for, especially a child from an ordinary, minor landowning family like Harvey’s.

It wasn’t just the Araye Magic Academy; Harvey wasn’t even qualified to attend the Oland Royal Magic Academy. As for the Da’ers General Magic Academy, for which his preliminary results were good enough, it didn’t offer a specialized necromancy program that he was suited for.

In the end, he had no choice but to enroll in the Academy of Necromancy in his home Duchy of St. Valen, a school that struggled with recruitment.

To enter these high-level magic academies, talent alone was far from enough; one’s background was also crucial. At the very least, descendants of long-standing wizard families had a much easier time enrolling than someone like Harvey.

At this thought, Harvey fell silent for a moment. He lowered the carriage curtain, reached out, and pressed a hand on the shoulder of the flesh-and-blood puppet sitting beside him, quickly entering a state of soul separation.

The puppet’s tightly shut eyes snapped open, a strange light flowing within its right eye. After a faint squirming sound of flesh and bone, both the puppet and Harvey’s true self, inside the carriage, had completely changed their appearances.

Wayne and Tommy, driving outside, had been carefully instructed by Harvey beforehand. When Harvey knocked on the cabin wall, they poked their heads in to find that their lord had a completely new face. They reported without a hint of surprise, “My lord, the meeting point arranged with the Federation is just ahead. We’re almost there…”

Harvey didn’t want to waste any more time. According to the prior arrangements, someone would be waiting for them at the Federation’s External Affairs Department upon their arrival in Araye to welcome them and let them rest briefly.

After that, they would immediately head to the Federation headquarters in the Celestial Domain for the secluded Spell Duel!

Chapter 197: The Eve of the Duel

The carriage slowly came to a stop in front of a quaint, two-story building. Through the carriage’s curtain, two figures in the Federation’s standard-issue mage robes could be seen already waiting by the steps of the main entrance.

The puppet narrowed his eyes, glanced at Harvey, and gave him a slight nod. He was the first to push open the carriage door and step out. Harvey straightened the felt hat on his head and followed closely behind.

“Heh heh, Mr. Kel’Thuzad, welcome to Araye, the City of Magic!” The older of the two men was clearly the one in charge of their reception. Seeing the puppet and Harvey alight from the carriage, he hurried forward to greet them, performing the ancient wizard’s salute that distinguished ranks among spellcasters.

The young, gray-haired spellcaster standing behind the middle-aged man, however, merely offered a simple nobleman’s Pectoral Salute.

“Mr. Kel’Thuzad, as previously arranged, you and your… ah, mage’s squire and magical assistant, can first rest for a while at the External Affairs Department’s reception hotel. I will personally escort you to the Celestial Domain shortly…”

The middle-aged man glanced at Harvey and the two Bloodline Warriors standing behind the puppet and added softly, “Mage’s squires are not permitted in the Celestial Domain. They can remain here and await your return. It won’t take too long.”

Though his tone was polite, his words still carried a faint undercurrent of arrogance and disdain. This was normal. The spellcasters of Araye had always looked down on outsiders. Not to mention mages like Harvey from secular kingdoms, even those from the great families of the Seven Wizard Kingdoms were considered ignorant and old-fashioned by them.

For instance, they viewed the tradition of keeping low-rank Bloodline Warriors as personal squires as a relic of the past. Modern spellcasters much preferred to craft powerful magic artifacts from rare materials for their personal protection. This not only showcased their own magical prowess but also highlighted their family’s immense wealth and background.

After a few brief pleasantries, the middle-aged man left in a hurry to announce Harvey’s arrival, leaving the young man to guide them to their rooms to rest.

The gray-haired spellcaster led Harvey and the others into the rest area, then suddenly reached out and gently closed the door. He took a communication magic stone from his pocket and handed it to the puppet.

“Spellshield, and Mr. Man in the Mirror, have asked me to send their regards…”

With that, he placed a hand on his chest and bowed slightly to the puppet before turning and leaving the room with an elegant grace.

The puppet gently tossed the communication magic stone in his hand, turned to Harvey, and teased, “It seems our public patron, the Chief of the Federation, isn’t our only backer here in Araye…”

The communication magic stone from Spellshield and Mr. Man in the Mirror contained a detailed profile of Harvey’s opponent for the duel. It also thoughtfully mentioned that the three of them had already arrived in the Celestial Domain and would be present at the Spell Duel as witnesses.

The high-rank battle mage who had challenged Harvey to the duel was named Lucar. The lack of a surname was because, despite being from an ancient wizard family, he had for some reason converted to the Radiant Church, causing the family elders to strip him of his ancient and honored surname. He was, in effect, an independent spellcaster who had been cast out.

Such spellcasters were not uncommon in the Federation. After forming an alliance with the Church, the Federation did not forbid its members from holding religious beliefs, as long as they still abided by the basic laws and periodically served their term at Blackstone City in the Evil Moon Mountain Range.

This battle mage, Lucar, specialized in Arcane spells. He was forty-nine years old and had been a high-rank caster for a full decade. However, he had no talent for magical research; his preferred offensive spells were mostly modified versions of those passed down through his family.

But his long years stationed in the Evil Moon Mountain Range had given him exceptionally rich combat experience. His reserves of magical energy were among the highest in the Mage Corps, and his casting speed was extremely fast. He excelled at overwhelming unprepared enemies with a dense barrage of spells.

In a battle between spellcasters, life and death were often decided in the instant a spell was cast. For casters of the same rank, it was a contest of casting speed, with no room for fancy tricks.

Of course, if a powerful defensive magic artifact was activated beforehand, or if one successfully countered the opponent’s spell, the battle would devolve into a contest of magical energy reserves. In such cases, the outcome was often mutual destruction.

This was the main reason why spellcasters of the same rank would never easily initiate unnecessary conflicts unless absolutely necessary. The consequences of magical energy depletion from overexertion—the chaotic operation of one’s internal sigils—were lifelong. In severe cases, it could even lead to a drop in rank or the inability to ever advance again.

Therefore, Harvey had prepared a full three-pronged failsafe for this duel.

First, of course, was a field test of his own original spell—Floyd’s Magnetic Storm Field. As an electromagnetic magic that fell outside the basic elemental system, there was a high chance his opponent would have no prior knowledge of how to counter or effectively defend against it.

The only way to truly test the power of an original spell was to smash it into an enemy’s head.

Second was the already-condensed and now deeply parasitic, modified version of “Dawson’s Soul Siphon” within the puppet’s body—the transcendent-rank spell “Information Frenzy.” He would cram the vast, distorted, and twisted fragments of his memories as a transmigrator into the high-rank mage’s mind, causing a complete mental shutdown.

If his opponent was still standing after these two spells, there was, of course, the pre-arranged assistance of Mr. Mind Devil. Following the location of Harvey’s sigil, he would be hiding in the Plane of the Magic Net, ready to strike with an energy beam. Before setting out, Harvey had already given the Mind Devil one-time access to the Spellcaster Forum and the energy-gathering array, and the latter had expressed great enthusiasm for this interesting experiment.

The price Harvey had to pay was simple—the next time he invited Mr. Mind Devil to the pioneer territories, he was to personally witness a red-blooded rugby match and properly absorb and savor the rich, philosophical Votive Power.

After resting in the room for half an hour, according to his pocket watch, a light knock sounded punctually on the door.

“Mr. Kel’Thuzad, are you ready? If you have no other requests or questions, we shall depart for the Celestial Domain immediately…”

The puppet stood up and walked to the full-length mirror, methodically straightening his new black mage robe. It had been rush-made by the Federation and delivered to Harvey through the Dragonstone Merchant Guild. The collar and cuffs were embroidered with the silver emblems and patterns signifying a high-rank spellcaster.

He turned and winked at Harvey, chuckling lightly. “I’ll be heading to the Celestial Domain alone. You all just rest here in the hotel. I’ll be back by sunset at the latest. Regardless of the outcome, we leave Araye tonight…”

Although Wayne and Tommy knew beforehand that their lord now existed as one person in two bodies, they still instinctively turned to look at Harvey’s true self and asked in a bewildered whisper, “My lord… are you… are you going alone? No, wait! I guess you are one person. I mean… are you only sending half of yourself?”

Harvey’s true self couldn’t help but let out a muffled laugh. “What’s all this about one person, half a person? Just stay here and watch over me, and let him go. It makes no difference. It’s all me.”

Chapter 198: The Show Begins

Harvey left his true self in the guest hotel of the Federation’s External Affairs Department, with Wayne and Tommy guarding him closely at all times. He poured all of his mental energy and spiritual sense into the puppet, then walked out of the room and into the hotel lobby on the first floor.

The middle-aged mage who had left and returned was waiting at the entrance with a smile. Without further delay, the two went outside, boarded a carriage, and headed for the offices of the Federation’s Department of Magical Affairs—the location of a special, two-way teleportation array to the Celestial Domain above the city.

On the pure white stone steps before the Celestial Domain’s Mage Tower, space twisted slightly. In the next moment, the figures of the puppet Harvey and the middle-aged mage appeared directly on the staircase.

This was Harvey’s first time visiting the legendary Celestial Domain of Araye. Although he had heard countless tales of this vast, miraculous floating mage tower during his academy days, standing before it now, he still couldn’t help but marvel.

It was a magical wonder that rivaled the power of the gods, a continental symbol of the Federation’s might. It was said that this pure white giant tower was, in itself, a legendary-level strange magic artifact. A century ago, the Legendary Archmage who founded the Federation modified it with a secret art, solidifying it into its current form as a floating structure.

And that mysterious Legendary, whose name had been concealed from history, was the teacher of the current Chief, Kemer Salas. It was rumored that Mr. “The Scorching Sovereign” was the only student he had ever taken, making him one of the inheritors of the Federation’s magical legacy.

The middle-aged mage guiding him stood silently beside the puppet Harvey, a trace of disdain and contempt unconsciously touching his lips as he watched Harvey gaze up at the Celestial Domain’s Mage Tower with an expression of awe and shock.

“What a breathtaking, miraculous creation…” the puppet Harvey sighed, then turned his head. “I wonder where in the tower the dueling grounds are located?”

“Heh, in the Hall of Truth, of course. All Truth Debates and Spell Duels have always been held there. The three Chiefs jointly placed a defensive isolation array there. Even if two legendary-level spellcasters were to exchange spells, they couldn’t easily break through it…”

The middle-aged mage had no intention of revealing more to Harvey. He urged him politely, “Mr. Kel’Thuzad, let’s hurry inside. We can’t keep the Chief and the department officials waiting too long…”

…

Upon entering the main gate of the Celestial Domain’s Mage Tower, the two were guided by a magic apprentice in the grand hall to a small teleportation array, where they underwent another short-distance teleportation within the tower.

After a slight wave of dizziness passed, Harvey felt his vision dim considerably. Focusing his eyes and looking around, he found himself standing within a magnificent and vast circular hall.

It was like a miniature version of the ancient Roman Colosseum, surrounded by a ring of tiered platforms. On the platform directly facing Harvey, three high-backed chairs of pure black were arranged in a triangular formation. Two mages with indistinct faces were already seated, and beside the empty chair stood a strange, silver-framed, full-length mirror.

A resonant voice rang out from the platform on the left. “Mr. Kel’Thuzad, the two you are facing are the Chiefs of the Federation: Lord Kemer Salas and Lord Sorun Dawson…”

Two of the three Chiefs were present… The one seated in the highest position must be “The Scorching Sovereign” himself.

Upon hearing this, Harvey bowed slightly and placed a hand on his chest in a formal salute. As he expected, the white-haired and white-bearded elder in the highest seat smiled and nodded, his features still a blur—the effect of some kind of concealment spell.

Seated to the lower right of “The Scorching Sovereign” was a short elder whose face was also blurry, yet one could clearly make out a comical brandy nose. Harvey was unsure what this Lord Dawson’s handle was on the Forum; he didn’t recall ever seeing him speak at the gatherings.

This Lord Dawson also had quite a loud voice. “Today’s duel will be primarily witnessed by myself and Lord Salas. The other observers are all from within the Federation, including the Director of the Department of Affairs, members of the Review Council, and officials from the Battle Department…”

As he made the introductions, Harvey’s gaze swept around the hall. When Dawson mentioned the allies “from the Alchemical Exploration Society,” Harvey spotted two familiar figures sitting on the right-hand platform. They gave him a slight nod and a faint smile in greeting.

“The ‘Man in the Mirror’ gentlemen… too easy to recognize. Spellshield and the Son of Flame must be here as well. A pity I can’t meet them in person right away…”

Chief Dawson quickly finished introducing the witnesses for the day’s duel, then clapped his hands and gestured to one side of the platform.

Immediately, a middle-aged mage strode down from the platform to the center of the hall, taking a position opposite Harvey. He wore a black mage robe, a battle mage insignia pinned to his chest, and the embroidered pattern of a three-circle high-level caster on his cuffs.

“My name is Lucar. I am the Federation battle mage who challenged you. I currently serve in Blackstone City in the Evil Moon Mountain Range. It’s strange that you didn’t choose a Truth Debate… Heh, but personally, I admire your recklessness.”

Lucar was clearly not yet fifty, but his hair was already almost gray. His build was a rarity among battle mages—he appeared exceptionally thin and tall, his body not having undergone any magical modification or enhancement.

The Director of the Department of Affairs, who had been the first to speak, now continued, “The rules of a Spell Duel are very simple. A winner is decided when one side surrenders, loses the ability to fight, or… dies.”

“No one present may interfere. Only the duelists may use any spell to attack their opponent. Heh, that’s right… which means even forbidden magic is permitted. You can cast your spells without worry. The defensive array of the Hall of Truth is not something ordinary high-level casters like you can easily break through.”

As soon as his voice fell, Harvey immediately sensed a powerful mental energy locking onto him and beginning to scan his magical fluctuations and his physical body, inch by inch.

A strange, eyeless giant face suddenly appeared on the high, domed ceiling. It buzzed in a frivolous tone, “The two participants in the Spell Duel have had their identities verified. There are no fluctuations of divine arts or any other abnormalities within their bodies…”

It seemed to be a secret art, placed in the Mage Tower beforehand, to identify and confirm the identities of spellcasters—a precaution against spies from the Radiant Church or other hostile non-human races sneaking in to cause trouble.

The Legendary Chief, “The Scorching Sovereign,” seated in the highest position, gave a light wave of his hand. The center of the hall was immediately enveloped in an invisible barrier. Through this protective array, Lord Salas’s resounding voice echoed throughout the hall.

“I declare the duel has begun!”

Harvey waited only for his voice to fade before immediately guiding his own magic power into his sigils, activating the spell’s magic circle. A silver ring, spinning at high speed and crackling with a faint electric current, appeared around his body.

Just as he was about to chant the incantation to launch it at his enemy, Lucar had already condensed a translucent, illusory spear and, with a single push of his hand, sent it hurtling toward him.

An Arcane-type, seventh-circle universal spell—“Arcane Spear”!

The moment before the magic spear touched Harvey’s body, a burst of silvery-white light erupted from his right wrist. A full moon materialized in front of him, making instant contact with the Arcane Spear. Both then dissolved into nothingness.

This was the high-rank protective magic artifact he had received from The Scorching Sovereign—the “Silvermoon Ward” ring. Its function was to automatically activate a defense and provide instant malice detection.

Almost instantly, Lucar condensed two more identical “Arcane Spears” and, with a push of both hands, sent them flying rapidly toward Harvey.

It was a standard tactic of high-level battle mages: overwhelm a slower opponent with a barrage of high-level spells. Once they seized the initiative in casting, they could leave their enemy with no way to fight back.

The two “Arcane Spears” smashed heavily into the full moon shield raised by the “Silvermoon Ward,” instantly shattering the magic shield, which could no longer reform. This was the limit of what the “Silvermoon Ward” artifact could withstand.

After a battle mage continuously casts a high-level spell three times in a row, there is a brief half-second window where the flow of magic power in their body stagnates. In Harvey’s eyes, this was a clear sign of being on cooldown.

He had already calculated his opponent’s instant-casting frequency. Seizing the moment the shield shattered, he raised both hands and hurled the silver ring spinning rapidly around his body toward his opponent.

This was precisely Harvey’s original, unappraised spell—Floyd’s Magnetic Storm Field!

Chapter 199: The Might of a Transcendent-Rank Spell

Under Harvey’s guidance, a rapidly spinning silver ring shot towards his opponent, Lucar.

Caught in a moment of magical stagnation, Lucar was not panicked. A cold sneer touched his lips as he stomped his foot, and three overlapping, illusory shields instantly materialized before him.

The illusory shields appeared as fragile and brittle as transparent crystal, but the moment they contacted the silver ring, they erupted with intense arcane fluctuations. Countless twisting, writhing magical inscriptions surfaced on the shields, just barely holding back the crackling burst of electricity from the ring.

This was not a defensive spell he had cast, but a high-rank defensive magic artifact that also had an active trigger!

The silver ring, striking the magic artifact’s shields, made a faint cracking sound, showing visible signs of fracture.

Lucar’s eyes narrowed, and he began to chant a spell rapidly. He intended to exploit the opening while his opponent was busy controlling the spell against his magic artifact to launch another attack.

He was a hundred times more skilled than a research-type Spellcaster like Harvey at seizing an enemy’s casting interval and finishing them off with an instant-cast spell!

Since his expulsion from his family, Lucar could no longer obtain the resources necessary to advance his abilities. He had no access to the body’s magic resistance modification or the secret amplification arts for strengthening mental energy. Therefore, with his own magical energy reserves, and without any casting buffers or recovery potions, he could at most rapidly cast five or six high-rank universal spells before his mental and magical energy would be depleted.

Moreover, for fairness, the Federation had informed him before the duel began that he was prohibited from using the standard-issue attack artifacts provided to the Mage Corps. These mass-produced alchemical artifacts mostly came from the Esoteric Society’s aid, and besides a single high-rank defensive magic artifact, Lucar himself had no other magical assets.

As Lucar chanted rapidly, dozens of crystalline orbs materialized around his body, flying in a circle. They seemed to follow some sort of pattern, constantly colliding with one another and emitting waves of arcane energy.

A seventh-circle universal attack spell—Multiple Arcane Orbs!

This was a potent universal spell with a stacking attack effect. While a single orb’s power wasn’t remarkable, a high-level caster with formidable mental energy and magical reserves could condense and unleash dozens at once, creating an effect comparable to a small-scale magical bombardment.

Although Harvey had learned of his opponent’s combat habits and attack methods in advance from Spellshield and the Man in the Mirror, he still felt a sense of shock. He had always thought that only elemental-type Spellcasters loved to fight with a dense barrage of spells. He never expected this Arcane-type battle mage to also be a madman, willing to drain his own magical energy in pursuit of a single, decisive blow.

He would not, of course, give his opponent the chance to complete the spell. Under the effects of soul separation, the faint thread of consciousness connecting him to his distant puppet trembled violently, like a lute string plucked by an unseen hand.

Transcendent-rank spell: “Information Frenzy”!

The Mental Seed buried deep within his sea of consciousness instantly detonated. Countless fragments of chaotic, shattered information and memories transformed into overlapping phantoms, surging madly from the facial orifices of the puppet’s upturned head, like a legion of ghosts.

The originally wide-area, indiscriminate mental shockwave was forcefully bounced back by the protective array in the Hall of Truth, hurtling straight toward the battle mage Lucar, who had just finished his incantation.

This shockwave passed directly through the arcane shields that were locked in a stalemate with the electromagnetic silver ring, pouring straight into Lucar’s mouth as it opened and closed to chant the spell.

In an instant, Lucar felt his mind being violently stuffed with a massive amount of twisted, bizarre information fragments.

Countless magnificent, colossal building complexes, as vast as the Celestial Domain itself, towered high, blotting out the sun…

On the ground, hundreds and thousands of strange metal carriages, moving as fast as lightning without horses to pull them…

Mysterious, giant flying beasts weaving in and out of the high clouds, letting out deafening roars…

Crowds of people dressed in all sorts of strange, non-human attire flowed past him like a tide…

He subconsciously turned his head and saw a mirror-like object beside him, constantly flashing with strange lights. Countless unknown symbols and words appeared rapidly upon it. In the blink of an eye, it felt as if a vast, torrential flow of information numbering in the billions flooded into his brain.

A bone-chilling cold, born from the fear of the unknown, rose from Lucar’s soul and spread throughout his body. He wanted to cast a spell, but could not draw a single sliver of mental energy from his now-empty sea of consciousness.

On the shining, mirror-like object, the strange runes suddenly paused, coalescing in an instant into a face made of lines. It even twisted into a smile at him.

A roar echoed from the depths of his soul. Lucar’s heart pounded violently, and then everything went black as he lost all consciousness.

The shield condensed by the magic artifact instantly dissipated. The silver ring, which had been worn down to a thin sliver, broke free of its restraint and slammed into his body.

Silvery-white electricity burst forth, and arcs of seemingly tangible plasma coursed over his body before soaring up to strike the top of the protective array.

The explosion was deafening. Thick black smoke filled the area, and from it, a small mushroom cloud formed.

…

An Archmage in a black robe, seated on the right side of the high platform, shot to his feet. “Dawson’s Soul Siphon?” he exclaimed, a mixture of shock and anger in his voice. “He actually used Lord Dawson’s original spell!”

Dawson shook his head, his expression grave. He turned to look at Salas, who sat at the head of the platform with an unreadable expression. “If I’m not mistaken, he just used two… original high-circle spells, did he not?”

Salas pursed his lips in a smile, his expression noncommittal.

“It is not my Soul Siphon,” Dawson’s resonant voice echoed through the Hall of Truth. “Judging from the effects, it was a mental attack, not a curse-type attack…”

The protective array enveloping the duel area was dispelled. A light breeze swept through, clearing the lingering black smoke and ash, revealing two figures within—one standing, one lying on the ground.

Harvey’s soul puppet was barely standing, its body swaying as if it could collapse at any moment.

Lucar was in a much more miserable state. His face was deathly pale, blood pouring from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. The part of his body below the chest had been blasted by the spell into something resembling charred coal.

The black-robed Archmage who had first called out leaped from the high platform, floating down to the center of the hall. He walked over to Lucar, knelt to examine him for a moment, and then said numbly, “He’s beyond saving. Take him away!”

The crowd of Spellcasters seated on the high platforms were all silent…

Suddenly, a man stood up from a platform behind and to Harvey’s right. He was burly with messy red hair, and he laughed boisterously. “So that means Mr. Kel’Thuzad won, right? Incredible!”

Everyone’s gaze immediately converged on him with complicated expressions. A slender, scholarly-looking man sitting beside him quickly tugged on his sleeve and whispered, “Fell! Be quiet and sit down!”

The black-robed Archmage walked up to the puppet Harvey and demanded in a harsh tone, “Even if it wasn’t Lord Dawson’s Soul Siphon, it was undoubtedly two high-circle original spells. Which Legendary Lord from the Seven Wizard Kingdoms are you a disciple of?”

He paused, glanced around at the surrounding platforms, and said through gritted teeth, “Are you here to provoke the Federation on behalf of the wizard kingdoms?”

Fell Hoden, who had just sat back down in his chair, shot up again and cursed, “Gould, your subordinate lost a duel and died. Are you trying to stand up for him on the spot? Don’t forget who initiated the challenge!”

The black-robed Archmage Gould’s face flushed crimson as he retorted, “As the director of the Federation’s Battle Department, I have a duty to investigate and question outside Spellcasters!”

Fell spat, “You petty piece of shit!”

Fran Macaulay, seated beside Fell, rose with a sigh and said sternly, “Both parties in this Spell Duel were vetted by the Federation. Their identities were also verified before the duel began. Even if you don’t trust the Department of Affairs, surely you don’t doubt Lord Enzo, the Tower Spirit, do you?”

Just then, the First Chief, Kemer Salas, who had been silent all this time, finally spoke.

“That’s enough. The duel is over. There’s no need to argue any further. Everyone is dismissed…” He paused, looking at Harvey, who was still barely standing in the arena, and added softly, “Escort Mr. Kel’Thuzad from the Celestial Domain…”

Harvey, who was forcing himself not to collapse, suddenly received a private message through his puppet from Mr. “The Scorching Sovereign.”

“Mr. Kel’Thuzad, don’t forget to return the Phantasm Eye that Mr. Shadow Knight lent you. It’s one of the few toys he treasures.”

Chapter 200: The Aftermath of the Conflict

Controlling his soul puppet, Harvey quickly followed the magic apprentice out of the Hall of Truth. They returned to the first level of the Celestial Domain via the teleportation array, leaving behind the Federation mages, who were still fervently discussing in the hall.

Just as he reached the gate of the magic tower, a sudden shout from behind made his head throb with pain.

After fighting a high-rank battle mage far above his level and then enduring the indiscriminate shockwave of the transcendent-rank spell “Information Frenzy,” Harvey felt the soul link between him and his puppet was on the verge of collapse. Every step he made it take required his full concentration, making its gait exceptionally unsteady.

He suddenly felt a warm hand on his back, steadying him. The puppet turned its head slightly and saw the red-haired mage who had praised him during the duel, grinning at him. Behind him stood the slender, refined-looking man.

It was the Son of Flame and Mr. Spellshield…

Harvey struggled to control his facial expression, forcing a smile. Before he could even exchange pleasantries with them, the Son of Flame pushed him on the back and urged in a low voice, “Don’t talk, come with us! Hurry!”

Only after they had left the Celestial Domain and returned to the Federation’s Department of Magical Affairs on the ground did the two Forum friends seem to breathe a sigh of relief. They let go of Harvey, whom they had been supporting between them, and one said with a frown, “If we’re not mistaken, you used some kind of secret art to boost your magical energy, didn’t you? The side effects look severe. Do you need us to get you some recovery potions?”

A warmth spread through Harvey’s heart. He didn’t intend to explain his condition and simply nodded, saying softly, “Thank you both for your concern. I can still manage. Potions won’t be much use. What I need most is to rest alone…”

Spellshield said with a self-deprecating tone, “Mr. Man in the Mirror and I went through all that trouble to get you intel on your opponent ahead of time. It seems we needn’t have bothered… Heh, a research mage who can easily cast two original spells isn’t someone those empty-headed battle mages can so easily contend with…”

The Son of Flame, feeling as though he’d been hit by a stray shot, grimaced and was about to retort when he saw Harvey bow slightly, placing a hand on his chest in a sincere salute. “Including Mr. Man in the Mirror, I will never forget the help you’ve all given me. This is a debt I will repay. If you ever need any help on the Forum in the future, please don’t hesitate to ask…”

“Alright, this meeting was both unexpected and rushed. It looks like we won’t be able to have a pleasant get-together in the real world,” Spellshield said. “Those madmen from the Battle Department will certainly see you as a thorn in their side, and the other conservative factions within the Federation will probably fan the flames from the shadows. You must take your people and leave Araye immediately. Don’t delay for a second!”

Spellshield beckoned over two of his trusted apprentices and instructed them to drive Harvey back to the hotel where the External Affairs Department was staying. He then stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the Son of Flame and bid Harvey a quick farewell.

“See you on the Forum, Mr. Kel’Thuzad! We’ve got to head back to the Hall of Truth now. We’ll join the commotion with those guys and buy you some time, in case they try anything…”

The moment the puppet stepped into the hotel room and closed the door, it collapsed to the ground as if its soul had been drained. On the sofa, Harvey’s true self immediately opened his eyes and stood up. He called to Wayne and Tommy, who were standing guard by the door and window, and urged, “Carry it. We’re leaving right now!”

…

An ornate, exquisite carriage sped along a wide, hard-packed dirt road. It was the height of summer, and the afternoon sun was scorching. Few travelers were on the road; the only sounds were the chirping of birds from the shade of the trees.

Less than five hours had passed since Harvey entered Araye, completed the Spell Duel, returned, and finally departed the City of Magic. Behind them, the magnificent city grew smaller and smaller.

Suddenly, Harvey, sitting inside the carriage, felt a bone-chilling cold materialize on his wrist, and at the same time, a powerful sense of danger flared up in his mind.

It was the Silvermoon Ward, automatically activating its malice detection!

Harvey didn’t hesitate for a second. He threw himself against the carriage door, rolling out, and shouted a warning to the two Bloodline Warriors driving, “Get away from the carriage! We’re under attack!”

Wayne and Tommy, linked to him by bloodline bond, reacted with extreme speed. The moment he spoke, they dove to opposite sides, tumbling to the roadside.

A distorted figure materialized in mid-air. Wreathed in a thick, frigid aura, it descended from the sky and smashed down onto Harvey’s luxurious carriage, instantly freezing the entire vehicle, horses and all.

“Oh? You could foresee the danger and dodge? Did someone in Araye warn you beforehand?” The dark, twisted figure in the air spoke in a hoarse, aged voice, as grating as the sound of someone hawking phlegm.

A high-rank Elemental Mage! And an Ice-based spellcaster who excelled at control, no less.

Harvey, who had tumbled to the ground after rolling out of the carriage, had no time to worry about anything else. His body instantly split off an equally distorted mirrored illusion. The moment the illusion appeared, it began to chant a profound and esoteric incantation, completing the spell in less than three seconds.

A third-circle, instant-cast original spell—Mirror Curse.

The deep-black cursed mirror image suddenly exploded on the spot. Countless black threads, seemingly alive, broke free from the illusion’s control and shot directly toward the attacker in the air.

A crystalline, ice-shell-like shield immediately materialized around the attacker’s body. No matter how the black threads, imbued with curse power, swarmed, they couldn’t reach his true self.

“You… just how many original spells have you learned? Are you truly a descendant of Lord Salas’s family?”

The Elemental Mage floating in the air asked again in confusion, seemingly paying no mind to Harvey’s Cursing Arts.

But he had misjudged the true target of the counterattack.

Tommy, who had rolled down the embankment, quickly removed the gun bag from his back. He half-knelt, leveled the Magical Energy Gun in his hands, took a deep breath, and swiftly channeled the abundant bloodline power within him. From his strongly beating heart, the power surged frantically toward his eyes, and his once-dark pupils became completely suffused with a brilliant silvery-white light.

After a zzzt, the crystalline ice shield surrounding the attacker trembled violently. Before he could react, another energy beam slammed into the shield.

With a soft crack, the ice shield shattered into pieces. The attacker’s eyes widened in disbelief. He shot upward, increasing his distance from the ground, as a violent blizzard swirled around his body, concealing him from sight.

Tommy’s bloodline talent was “Weakness Insight,” an ability that allowed him to lock onto the weak points of any target within his line of sight and assist with a fatal long-range strike. But hidden within the raging blizzard, he couldn’t see the enemy at all. No matter how frantically he channeled his body’s bloodline power, his eyes still couldn’t lock onto a target.

Wayne ran to Harvey’s side, gun in hand. He pulled Harvey up, gave him a hard shove forward, and roared, “My lord, run! Tommy and I will hold him off!”

After speaking, he raised his gun and fired two wild shots at the massive snow and ice tornado. Then he turned his head again, eyes wide, and yelled, “My lord! Run! Run back to Araye!”

Harvey knew this was no time to hesitate. Without a glance at the puppet doppelganger frozen inside the carriage, he immediately turned and sprinted back in the direction of Araye.

He had only run about a dozen meters when he heard a tremendous roar and the sound of something tearing through the air from the road behind him.

A familiar, boisterous voice boomed from far away, growing closer and echoing across the sky.

“Son of a bitch! I knew you small-minded bastards wouldn’t let him go! Pah!”

The high-rank Flame Archmage, Fell Hoden, whose Forum handle was “Son of Flame,” had arrived!

Chapter 201: A Thousand-Mile Farewell

Archmage Fell Hoden came streaking in a flash of fire and lightning, leaving a blazing trail of flame in the air.

He shot forward and hovered in mid-air, glancing at Harvey on the ground, who was about to flee. He paid him little mind, instead turning his attention to the violent snow and ice tornado and taunting it mercilessly, “What? Are the people from the Battle Department all turtles? You dare to act but not to take responsibility? Afraid to show your face and reveal your identity, is that it?”

The Spellcaster hidden within the snow and ice tornado demanded in a hoarse voice, “Fell Hoden, what are you doing meddling in this? Lord Salas has already stripped you of even your nominal post in the Federation!”

Fell’s face instantly turned red, his thick, messy red hair scattering in the wind. “What damned bullshit!” he roared.

He looked down at the carriage on the ground, frozen solid by the ice, and said in disbelief, “Am I too late? Damn it, if I had known he was out of magical energy, I shouldn’t have just followed him secretly. I should have escorted him directly to Oland!”

With that, he tugged at his hair in a frenzy. Clasping his hands together, he quickly chanted a spell. Raging flames erupted from his body, and he charged headfirst into the snow and ice tornado suspended in the air.

“Dammit! If that’s the case, then you can stay and die with him!”

Eighth-circle modified fire spell—Blazing Impact!

An ordinary high-rank fire Mage casting this spell would use a fire-attuned magic artifact as a medium, manipulating it with an attached spirit of scorching fire to attack the enemy. But Fell Hoden, with his violent and extreme nature, relied on his own physically enhanced and modified body, using it as the magic artifact itself to launch a physical charge against his foe.

The snow and ice tornado suddenly imploded, then burst apart with a bang, transforming into countless slender threads of ice that flew toward Fell, attempting to entangle his body and slow him down.

But the Son of Flame was fearless. Two searing, orange-yellow beams of light shot from his eyes. The blazing flames surrounding his body turned a dark red, and from within them flew dozens of fire birds, flapping their wings. Pecking and clawing, they rapidly devoured and melted the ice threads.

After a massive boom, the very ground seemed to tremble. At the point of collision between the two high-rank Elemental Mages, even the air seemed to distort slightly.

The imploded snow and ice tornado finally dissipated, revealing an attacker clad in a black robe and cowl. He coughed, spitting out a mouthful of blood mixed with ice shards, and staggered before falling to the ground.

The Son of Flame landed in front of him. His crimson mage robe and the upper half of his body were coated in a thin layer of ice. The left side of his face was covered in a layer of dark frost, and his left eye, frozen by the extreme cold, had turned a pale, lifeless white.

“Argh! My damn eye!” Though he howled in mock agony, his body didn’t so much as tremble. He raised a hand, shook off the ice and snow from his arm, and casually gouged out the eye, which had been frozen to necrosis.

Wayne and Tommy, who had been huddled to the side preparing to provide covering fire, were so scared they plopped right onto the ground, their mouths agape and unable to make a sound.

Fell walked over to the unconscious attacker on the ground, lifted his foot, and kicked him viciously in the head. With a crunch like a frozen watermelon shattering, he completely crushed the man’s head.

Blood gushed from the headless corpse’s neck, mixing with the grayish-white brain matter on the ground into a messy pulp.

“I told you to die with him, so you should have just died obediently. But no, you had to put up a desperate struggle, and now I have to go find Brother Quinn for a new eye!”

He muttered a few words to himself, then turned to the frozen carriage. With a flick of his wrist, he sent a fireball at it, shattering the ice and revealing the puppet body inside, completely frozen and devoid of life.

“Heavens, this is all my fault. Now the entire Forum will know that because of my failure to protect him, we’ve lost a precious member… and he was so talented, it’s just…”

Harvey shuffled over to stand behind the Son of Flame and said cautiously, “Uh… Mr. Son of Flame, I’m sorry, but… I’m actually Kel’Thuzad.”

The words caught in Fell’s throat. He coughed violently, then turned and stared blankly. “You’re Kel’Thuzad? But… but the person I saw in the Hall of Truth was clearly this block of ice! What the hell is going on?”

Harvey smiled. “Thanks to the hints from you and Mr. Spellshield, I used the Phantasm Eye provided by Mr. Shadow Knight to swap appearances and body shapes with my assistant…”

Hearing this, Fell burst out laughing and clapped Harvey heavily on the shoulder. “Damn, you research types are a crafty bunch! You’ve got a sharp mind.”

Then, he added apologetically, “Ai, if I had known you were so weak you couldn’t even cast a flight spell, I would have escorted you directly to Oland. And now look, the carriage is gone, and I’d have to carry you. I can’t fly that far, not all the way to Oland.”

Harvey, of course, dared not explain that he couldn’t fly at all. A mid-rank Spellcaster’s spell circle slots didn’t include flight spells, which required an abundance of magical energy.

He could only cough awkwardly, politely declining the Son of Flame’s kind offer to serve as his flying mount.

“Didn’t you and Mr. Spellshield return to the Hall of Truth? Why did you turn back to find me?”

Fell scratched his head and said frankly, “Even though my teacher and I have had a falling out, if he occasionally asks me to do something, I still have to obey. It’s basic etiquette for a student…”

Harvey was taken aback. “Teacher? Who is your teacher? Is he also a member of the Forum?”

Fell turned to the side, casually tossing away the frozen eyeball he was holding, and said lightly, “Who else could it be? The revered Legendary Chief, Lord Scorching Sovereign, of course…”

…

In the end, with Wayne carrying him, Harvey leisurely made his way to the nearest post town to Araye, chatting with the Son of Flame along the way. There, he hired a carriage with his own money and finally arrived in Oland.

Standing at the entrance of the Oland branch of the Federation of Casters, the Son of Flame announced that this was as far as he would go. From here, Harvey just needed to use the Federation’s internal continental teleportation array to reach the wizard kingdom of Da’ers, and his personal safety would be more or less guaranteed.

“Da’ers is my hometown. In the Federation branch there, many of the officials and Spellcasters are blood descendants from the same mage family as me. Take my signet insignia, and they will naturally keep your travels a secret…”

A warmth spread through Harvey’s chest, and he couldn’t help but ask, “Mr. Son of Flame, I’m grateful for your intervention, and for all your help before… but the Forum operates on the principle of equivalent exchange. I would like to know what price I must pay to repay you for all this.”

Fell grinned, winking slyly. “Aha! I knew you were a sharp one. I’ve been waiting for you to say that this whole time.”

He glanced around, then rubbed his hands together excitedly and leaned in to whisper in Harvey’s ear, “That original spell of yours… the incredibly powerful one that crackled and zapped… and fried Lucar more thoroughly than a roasted suckling pig. Can you teach it to me?”

“Was that a seventh-circle? Or an eighth-circle spell? To think it didn’t draw on the basic elements, but on the power of lightning derived from the wind element! Such a genius concept!”

He paused, then added a little sheepishly, “Of course, helping you once isn’t enough to trade for that spell. I’ll compensate you with other things. Don’t rush, just take your time, think about it, and let me know what you want.”

Harvey nodded in understanding. After a moment of thought, he explained in a calm voice, “I have no problem with exchanging it with you, but… this spell hasn’t undergone a circle-rank appraisal since its creation. I’m not even sure myself what circle it belongs to. If you don’t mind, we can consider the value of the extra payment after I’ve published my research paper and it has passed review and assessment…”

Fell straightened up abruptly, his expression one of disbelief. “Huh? It hasn’t been appraised yet? Don’t… don’t tell me you created it yourself?”

Chapter 202: A Strange Lab Accident

Bidding farewell to the Son of Flame, who was still muttering nonsense in a state of shock, Harvey took Wayne and Tommy through the continental teleportation array to the wizard kingdom of Da’ers.

However, he didn’t follow Fell Hoden’s advice to contact his family kin at the Federation’s branch in Da’ers. Instead, he chose to continue working with his close partners, the Dragonstone Merchant Guild, secretly leaving Da’ers with their caravan and heading straight for Jackdaw Town on the St. Valen border. There, he rendezvoused with Pierce and the several dozen Bloodline Warriors he had brought, who had been eagerly awaiting him at the warehouse.

“My lord, it seems things in Araye went very smoothly. I hadn’t expected you to return so soon…”

Harvey nodded and, without a moment’s hesitation, boarded the War Beast vehicle hidden in the dense forest at the foot of the mountain.

The southern lands, the familiar homeland that had nurtured him for over twenty years, couldn’t compare to the sense of security he felt in the isolated pioneer territories of the Northern Realm. Only by returning safely to his own turf could he truly breathe a sigh of relief.

“Did any emergencies occur in the territory during the week I was away?”

Pierce quickly replied, “No, everything with both the military and the city administration has been proceeding in an orderly fashion, except…”

He opened and closed his mouth several times, his expression strange as he hesitated to speak.

Harvey frowned. “Except what? If there were no issues with the territory’s defense or administration, did something happen to the shield tunneling machine at the northern slope base?”

The alchemical behemoth converted from the Giant Devouring Worm was one of a kind; he couldn’t find a second worm carrier active within a fifty-kilometer radius of the pioneer territories. If it were scrapped, it would undoubtedly be a severe blow to Harvey.

“Uh… it wasn’t the shield tunneling machine at the northern slope base. It was your newly built Laboratory. That Master Chris… he used the extremely dangerous Dragon’s Flame powder in an experiment without any protective measures… and it caused a massive explosion in the Laboratory…”

“What? He experimented with Dragon’s Flame powder? And without any protective measures?” Harvey shot to his feet, his head nearly slamming into the metal roof of the War Beast. “Is Chris still alive? What are the casualties?”

Pierce answered, a little puzzled, “Fortunately, Mr. Chris returned to the lab late last night after finishing his work for the day to conduct the dangerous operation alone. None of the apprentices were assisting him at the time…”

Harvey felt a small measure of relief. It wasn’t just Chris himself; those alchemy apprentices, all as young as him, were the future technical backbone for the territory’s various industrial posts. If any of them were lost, he would be too embarrassed to shamelessly ask the Man in the Mirror for more people. After all, training an alchemy apprentice from enlightenment to proficiency took nearly a decade.

After ordering everyone to quicken their return to the territory, Harvey didn’t even have time to rest at the castle. He went straight to the Laboratory next to the Territory’s Infirmary. The knot of anxiety in his chest finally loosened.

The explosion didn’t seem as severe as he had imagined. At least the concrete walls of the laboratory hadn’t collapsed; only the glass in the ventilation and lighting windows on the walls and ceiling had been completely shattered.

A few soot-faced alchemy apprentices rushed to Harvey’s side, crying out in panic, “My lord, how is Mr. Chris? We heard he’s badly injured. Is his life in danger?”

The personal guard stopped these poor children, who were running around like headless chickens, preventing them from risking entry into the devastated laboratory to salvage precious alchemical materials. Although the fire from the explosion had been extinguished, the residual hazardous substances within were still an unknown time bomb.

“The police officers on night patrol heard the massive explosion and rushed into the fire to pull Chris out… He’s still alive, but…” At this point, Pierce’s tone grew somber. “His left arm and both legs… were blown off on the spot. He was taken to the infirmary, where Mr. Egnor personally performed a healing spell to save him. He barely clung to life.”

Harvey said gravely, “As long as he’s alive, it’s fine. Even if his limbs were blown off, Egnor can use his healing spells for reattaching severed limbs. It shouldn’t be a major problem…”

Police Superintendent Yuliao, who was standing by managing the accident scene and maintaining order, leaned in and whispered, “My lord, I had my officers risk going into the laboratory to search for a long time, but we couldn’t find Master Chris’s severed limbs at all! Could it be… they were completely obliterated in the blast…”

Harvey was momentarily speechless. He sighed and shook his head. “Forget it. Let’s go straight to the infirmary. I want to see Chris’s condition for myself.”

…

Alchemist Chris Byrd lay battered and scarred in a private treatment room in the infirmary. His entire body was wrapped in various healing poultices developed by Egnor, making him look like a broken rag doll.

His face was a bloody mess, with the burns from the Dragon’s Flame covering nearly the entire upper half. One of his eyes had been blinded by shrapnel from the explosion, and he had just undergone an operation to remove the shattered eyeball.

Of his grievously injured left arm, only the upper part remained, and both his legs had vanished from the knees down.

If not for the desperate life-saving efforts of Egnor, a nature-type spellcaster, he would have surely died a quick and agonizing death from blood loss and subsequent infection, assuming he hadn’t been burned to a crisp at the scene of the explosion.

Chris had only just fallen into a stupor after taking a pain-relieving potion, and Harvey wasn’t in a hurry to question him about the cause of the accident just yet. Instead, he turned and walked into Egnor’s rest chamber.

“We couldn’t find the shattered limbs. Saving his life wasn’t difficult, but if you want him to work again, as active and able-bodied as before, I’m afraid the only option… is a soul grafting and alchemical prosthetic transplant surgery.”

Harvey nodded, seeing no other choice. He couldn’t help but frown and complain, “Chris is clearly a properly trained Alchemist from the Quinn family. How could he be so reckless and careless? Experimenting alone late at night is one thing, but to do so without any protective preparations…”

Even a Chief high-rank Alchemist like the Man in the Mirror knows that once you enter a laboratory, you should at least work in pairs for mutual support and take the most thorough protective measures beforehand.

Egnor gave a bitter smile. “Most research Mages and Alchemists who die in their own laboratories are the type who are blindly overconfident in their experimental procedures and predicted outcomes. It’s probably just as you often say—the ones who drown in the Icefield River are usually the strongest swimmers…”

He had been dragged right out of his warm bed last night and rushed back to the infirmary to treat Chris. He’d used nearly all the magical energy in his body casting healing spells, almost to the point of magical energy exhaustion. Although he’d taken a pile of recovery potions, he still felt incredibly weak.

Thinking of this, the half-elf couldn’t help but start complaining, “Mr. Chris is a true experimental maniac. His limbs were blown off, and after I poured a precious, life-sustaining potion down his throat, the first thing he said when he woke up was to not even bother stitching up his severed limbs. He told me to go straight to the alchemical prosthetic transplant surgery, saying it would kill two birds with one stone…”

Harvey, who had just taken a sip of black tea, sprayed it out with a pfft.

Egnor continued to ramble on, “I never expected Mr. Chris to be so optimistic by nature. He doesn’t mind suffering such a severe disability in the slightest. Alchemists truly are a strong-willed bunch… tsk, tsk, tsk.”

Chapter 203: Gathering on the Forum Again

When the severely injured Chris awoke from a deep coma, he found himself lying in the underground laboratory of the Lord’s Castle. The two soul alchemical constructs, Rainer and Astaren, were standing on either side of him, seemingly preparing for some experiment.

“My lord…” he called out weakly, unable to hide the excitement and longing on his face. “Are you going to perform the body alchemy experiment on me right away?”

Harvey walked over to him and rolled his eyes. “You only lost a leg and an arm,” he said, exasperated. “It’s not serious enough to require transferring your entire soul into an alchemical vessel.”

He paused, then frowned and chided him sternly, “Chris, tell me honestly, why were you performing dangerous operations alone in the laboratory late at night?”

To be honest, Harvey was highly suspicious. Given the man’s fanatical attitude toward Life Alchemy and soul transfer experiments, it wasn’t out of the question that he had caused the accident on purpose.

Chris pouted, his expression aggrieved and hurt. “My lord, you don’t suspect I did it on purpose, do you? While it’s true I yearn for a soul transfer… I would never make such a pointless gamble with my own life. Besides, as long as I follow you, my wish will come true one day.”

Harvey’s expression softened slightly at his words, and his tone relaxed. “Then what were you up to? How could you dare to handle a dangerous, flammable, and explosive material like Dragonfire powder by yourself?”

“I was inspired by that unique alchemical vehicle you developed—the Magic Motorcycle. I wanted to find a substance that could replace liquid magical energy as a fuel source. The energy produced by the combustion and explosion of Dragonfire, in a way…”

Harvey sighed. In a sense, the spirit of exploration and adventure of the alchemists of this era was in no way inferior to the scientific pioneers he had read about in textbooks in his previous life. It was just their misfortune to live in a magical world filled with extraordinary power, where too many of their concepts and perceptions were shackled and hindered by magic.

Dragonfire, an alchemical creation whose form and function were no different from gunpowder, could indeed replace gunpowder as a new type of propulsion energy in certain situations. Unfortunately, while Chris had thought of this, he still lacked research on the most crucial aspect: the method of energy conversion.

What Harvey needed most right now was to find the legendary core of the magical energy ore vein, said to be buried deep within the Spine of the Continent Mountains. Only there could he find a large supply of liquid magical energy that could be used as a fuel source, like petroleum.

“Once you’ve recovered, spend half your work time in my laboratory. I will explain to you in detail why Dragonfire cannot be used to power alchemical vehicles…”

With that, Harvey pointed to a row of brand-new alchemical limbs placed next to Chris’s sickbed and joked in a comforting tone, “Alright, before you take the anesthetic potion and fall unconscious, go ahead and pick a set of alchemical prosthetics you like…”

Rainer immediately began to enthusiastically introduce them to Chris, who was lying on the operating table. “This one is a mechanical arm fused with the soul of a primate, offering the highest degree of flexibility… This pair of mechanical lower limbs was transformed from the soul of a camel-ox, providing extreme stability…”

Chris thought for a moment, then tentatively asked Harvey, “My lord, why do alchemical prosthetics have to be made in the shape of human limbs? Could I choose to… have a set of eight legs transplanted, something like what Wolf Spider Beasts have?”

The more he spoke, the more excited he became, as if he had forgotten the pain of his severed limbs. He chattered on, “And for the arms, the mechanical tentacles Mr. Rainer sometimes uses in his experiments are quite nice, but the number is a little lacking. I’d like to have more than ten flexible tentacles…”

A wave of revulsion washed over Harvey, and he rolled his eyes, flatly rejecting Chris’s insane request.

“Absolutely not! You can only choose humanoid prosthetics. Your other suggestions are too freakish! I reject your request!”

…

After finishing Chris’s severed limb transplant surgery, Harvey had him carried back to the Territory’s Infirmary to continue his recovery. After all, it was a major operation involving three limb transplants; the man would clearly need to be bedridden for a long time before he was healthy again.

The time was now 8:50 PM. Harvey had almost forgotten that it was Friday, time for the Forum gathering to open. He quickly walked over to the Magic Net teleportation array and returned the Legendary magic artifact, the Phantasm Eye, that the Shadow Knight had lent him.

He had been ambushed on his way out of Araye, and that soul puppet had been completely destroyed by the high-rank Ice spell. He had only managed to retrieve the artifact transplanted in its eye before having the Son of Flame incinerate the puppet, along with the attacker’s headless corpse and the carriage.

Harvey could already predict that tonight’s gathering would be in an uproar, and it would undoubtedly revolve around his Spell Duel in Araye.

[Hand of Elements: Good evening, everyone! Greetings to Mr. Turing…]

After the familiar opening and pleasantries, the topic of the gathering, as expected, immediately turned to Harvey.

[Son of Flame: Everyone, through your own private channels, you should all be aware of the result of Mr. Kel’Thuzad’s Spell Duel, correct?]

[Son of Flame: Heh heh, I was there to witness this spectacular Spell Duel in person. The high-rank spells and casting techniques Mr. Kel’Thuzad used were in no way inferior to those battle mages hiding in the Evil Moon Mountain Range. As a member of the Spellcaster Forum, I feel a sense of pride…]

[Stormwalker: Hahaha! I was on pins and needles worrying about Mr. Kel’Thuzad for days. It seems my worries were for naught. To be able to publicly teach a lesson to those traitors in the Federation and the wizard kingdom who lean toward the Radiant Church… he has really vented some anger on behalf of the spellcasters unjustly persecuted by the Church!]

Harvey couldn’t help but shake his head and smile wryly. Mr. Stormwalker’s stance was indeed extreme, even using a word like “traitors.” It seemed he truly despised spellcasters who were close to the Church.

[Heart of the Forest: The specific details of this Spell Duel have yet to be leaked from within the Federation. Heh heh, I wonder what kind of high-circle spell Mr. Kel’Thuzad used, as a research-type mage, to defeat a battle mage head-on?]

[Frost Giant: As far as I know, research-type mages aren’t particularly skilled in high-circle attack spells, are they? Could Mr. Kel’Thuzad be a rare, once-in-a-century… dual-specialization spellcaster? Tsk tsk, truly hard to imagine.]

Spellshield, Fran Macaulay, as an official of the Federation’s Department of Affairs, immediately sensed that these two spellcasters, who clearly weren’t part of the Federation’s faction, seemed to be subtly probing for details about the Spell Duel and Kel’Thuzad. As a seasoned magic politician, he immediately spoke up to stop them.

[Spellshield: What’s this? Since when can we openly discuss and probe into another member’s academic privacy on the Forum? That is a trump card every spellcaster has the right to keep confidential, is it not? Please do not be so rude as to ask!]

[Man in the Mirror: If you want to know, isn’t it simple? Just trade information with Mr. Kel’Thuzad privately, following the principle of equivalent exchange… Simply trying to get something for free is not very decent!]

The words from Spellshield and the Man in the Mirror served a dual purpose, killing two birds with one stone. On one hand, they protected Harvey’s true identity and privacy from being exposed. On the other, they were hinting to the other members that Kel’Thuzad was now a member of the Federation’s faction within the Forum. It was a subtle way of pulling him into their camp.

As expected of magic politicians skilled in scheming… Harvey pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t offended by their maneuver. After all, during his trip to Araye, these members from the Federation had shown him nothing but goodwill. The Son of Flame had even enthusiastically stepped in to help, allowing him to avoid revealing more of his secrets and trump cards.

After all, if Harvey had been left to deal with the high-rank battle mage attacker on his own, he would have needed Mr. Mind Devil’s help in the Plane of the Magic Net to shatter his opponent’s sigils and resolve the crisis. That, in turn, would have led to him being viewed with suspicion by various parties later on.

[The Scorching Sovereign: There’s no need for everyone to argue endlessly over this. As for the specific details of the Spell Duel, we can let Mr. Kel’Thuzad himself choose whether or not he is willing to share them with us…]

Chapter 204: The Resubmitted Paper

Harvey sat before the Magic Brain instrument, pondering for a moment before his fingers slowly began to tap the keys.

[Kel’Thuzad: This Spell Duel incident was, for me, an undeserved calamity… a-sigh, I never imagined that simply publishing a research paper would provoke such a vehement reaction.]

No matter what, starting with a sob story was a tactic Harvey often employed on the Forum. In the past, he had relied on this very move to get a great deal of research funding from Mr. Man in the Mirror for free.

From other friendly members, he could also easily obtain discounts on knowledge sharing and item exchanges. It could be said that as long as their own safety and interests weren’t involved, this group of high-level casters active on the Forum was, in some respects, quite generous and magnanimous.

[Kel’Thuzad: I believe several members who witnessed the Spell Duel noticed that I only managed a narrow victory because I knew my opponent’s information beforehand and could prepare accordingly… Here, I must thank Mr. Spellshield and Mr. Man in the Mirror. If you two hadn’t risked passing me information, I likely would have met a grim fate in the duel…]

Exposing the members who had secretly tipped him off was Harvey’s small bit of retaliation against Spellshield for his earlier attempt to forcefully recruit him.

[Kel’Thuzad: As for… the spells I used to counter and defeat my opponent, they were in fact two original high-circle spells. They are indeed powerful offensive spells, and they are the only trump cards I have to protect myself.]

Just then, the handle of an unfamiliar member who rarely appeared at gatherings suddenly popped up.

[Spirit Snatcher: Please forgive my forwardness, but I would like to ask Mr. Kel’Thuzad if the second original spell you used has a structure and model somewhat similar to “Dawson’s Soul Siphon.” If you are unwilling to share publicly, I am willing to pay a price to obtain the answer privately.]

Harvey’s spirits lifted. He shrewdly deduced that the member with the handle “Spirit Snatcher” was likely one of the Federation Chiefs who had been sitting below The Scorching Sovereign in the Hall of Truth that day—the Legendary Arcane Mage, Sorun Dawson.

Of course, he couldn’t directly admit any connection between the two spells. Doing so would immediately reveal that he could access data uploaded by the Federation from the Magic Encyclopedia before it was even officially launched.

Wouldn’t that be as good as telling these Veterans of the Federation that he had some sort of clandestine, close relationship with the Forum’s Administrator Turing and Observer Neumann?

But an outright denial was also not an option. The eyes of these Legendary Casters were incredibly sharp; they could surely discern the patterns of magical energy and the matrix structure within the spell he had cast during the duel.

[Kel’Thuzad: I have not had the good fortune to learn an original spell like “Dawson’s Soul Siphon.” After all, it comes from the hand of the Federation’s Chief, Lord Dawson, and I am not his student.]

[Kel’Thuzad: Furthermore, this original spell, named “Information Frenzy,” is not something a research-type Spellcaster of my level could create on my own. I received a gift of knowledge from Mr. Turing, which I used as inspiration to modify the spell and construct its model…]

Harvey’s implication was that he didn’t actually have the ability to create such a formidable offensive spell himself. Instead, he had paid some price to obtain key knowledge about certain spells from the mysterious and powerful Forum Administrator, Turing. After all, Mr. Turing’s rank and power were widely acknowledged among the members as being unfathomably deep.

Moreover, this non-human entity adhered strictly to the principle of equivalent exchange. While he didn’t grant every request, he was still considered generous.

The moment he said this, the Forum fell into a dead silence. The minds of every member began to race—if Kel’Thuzad could obtain such a powerful original spell from the mysterious Administrator by paying some unknown price, didn’t that mean others could do the same?

Even if it wasn’t a complete high-circle spell, just acquiring some related knowledge or key points would be immensely beneficial to this group of high-level casters.

A Spellcaster capable of creating original spells was undoubtedly qualified to touch the coveted title of Legendary, but that didn’t mean a Legendary Caster could create a large number of these powerful high-level spells out of thin air.

Original spells weren’t like the cheap, mass-produced magic artifacts from the Alchemical Exploration Society’s workshops. Even for a Legendary Archmage who was a Chief of the Federation, the number of high-level spells they could research and improve in their lifetime was very limited.

Take the Federation’s First Chief, Lord Kemer Salas, for example. He was recognized throughout the continent’s spellcasting world as a magical genius, his talent arguably a rarity in the century since the Federation’s founding. Yet, he possessed only six original high-level spells, which he had used to advance to high-rank and earn his Legendary title.

As for the other two slightly less capable Federation Chiefs, Lord Sorun Dawson had four original high-circle spells under his belt. Lord Wes Gallagher was a special exception; he had relied on a vast inheritance of magic from the ancient wizard kingdoms, conducting frenzied spell modification experiments and forcing his way to the Legendary rank by replicating them.

Thinking of this, Harvey decided to give his status on the Forum a subtle boost—since they already accepted that he could receive gifts of knowledge from Administrator Turing.

He might as well take it a step further and solidify another background identity he would need later—the Spellcaster Forum’s first magic agent in the real world!

[Kel’Thuzad: Although I paid a great price for the magical gift from the Forum, considering everyone’s supportive attitude and selfless help during this incident, I have asked for Mr. Turing’s opinion and intend to share it to a certain extent… Ahem, I will use it to complete a research paper and publish it through the Federation. At that time, everyone can participate in its research and analysis…]

Harvey only planned to share some of the key knowledge points and critical theories. He had no intention of revealing the entire spell, from its magical theory to its model construction. This was akin to highlighting the key points for an exam; how much one could learn would depend entirely on their own talent and effort.

[Earth’s Favored: For Mr. Kel’Thuzad to be so generous and selfless, I believe we should offer you our highest respect! The path of magic is long and winding; only fellow travelers know the perils and hardships. It is precisely through communication and sharing that we all have a chance to touch the ultimate truth…]

[Hand of Elements: I second that! My highest respects to Mr. Kel’Thuzad for his selflessness!]

[Stormwalker: Agreed! Thank you for your selflessness, Mr. Kel’Thuzad!]

…

Harvey suppressed a laugh as he opened the message from Mr. Son of Flame. A wave of anxiety and urgency washed over him. He quickly sent a private reply to the irritable Mage, who was probably hopping with impatience in front of his Magic Brain right now.

[Kel’Thuzad: Mr. Son of Flame, please rest assured. Regarding the high-level elemental magic I promised you, I will not share it with anyone else until you have learned it. Once my research paper is published and the spell’s circle appraisal is complete, I will complete our transaction at the first opportunity!]

[Son of Flame: Good, good, good! I knew you wouldn’t go back on your word. In my heart, you’re now my number one magical friend! My dear Mr. Kel’Thuzad!]

Harvey shivered. It seemed that in his quest for a powerful spell, this irritable Archmage had completely disregarded his own image, willing to say any cheesy thing that came to mind.

After exchanging a few more simple messages with other members, Harvey concluded the evening’s gathering and logged out of the magic forum.

He picked up the research paper on the original spell he had written long ago, attached the reference experiments and combat data obtained from the Spell Duel, and typed it up into a document, sending it directly to Mr. “The Scorching Sovereign.”

Having top-tier connections within the Federation was just that simple. Publishing a paper and getting it approved didn’t require going through many procedures. The primary source material could be submitted directly to a Chief, with no need to worry about getting stuck in the review process.

“It feels so good to use connections to get your research published!”

Chapter 205: A Brand New School of Casting

A Study on Non-Basic Elemental Casting and the Application of Lightning Force Fields in Spellcraft…

“The research paper he submitted this time isn’t the Information Frenzy mental energy attack spell, the one so widely discussed at the gathering that resembled Dawson’s Soul Siphon model… Instead, it’s the high-level elemental magic he used in the duel, the one that harnessed the power of lightning?”

“The Scorching Sovereign,” Kemer Salas, held the freshly transcribed research paper from the Magic Net Forum. After reading it quickly, he fell into a long, deep thought.

On a silver full-length mirror standing quietly in the study, the image of a middle-aged mage in a black robe slowly materialized. He, too, was clutching a stack of documents, his brows tightly furrowed as he remained silent.

Dawson, the short old man sitting on the sofa, was the first to break the silence. “An original lightning-type spell that isn’t one of the Four Basic Elements… It’s extremely unorthodox, on par with Gallagher’s shadow-type spells. What do you two think?”

The black-robed Chief in the mirror, Gallagher, pinched the bridge of his nose and spoke cautiously, “Combining the common force magic of arcane casting with the rare lightning element of elemental magic… Based solely on the theoretical exposition in this research paper, I wouldn’t dare confirm its authenticity or feasibility. If I hadn’t witnessed the spell’s practical effect in combat, I would have assumed it was just the wild fantasy of some researcher with a chaotic methodology.”

Dawson nodded in agreement. “Indeed. Kel’Thuzad used instant casting to release this original spell during the duel. I could clearly perceive the regularity in the magical energy fluctuations, and I could also sense the spell’s structural integrity.”

As soon as he finished, Salas, who had been meditating with his eyes closed, suddenly spoke. “Throughout the entire casting process, there was no magical energy disturbance or structural misalignment in the spell model. This is indeed a brand new original spell, and judging from its power, it’s a high-circle attack spell.”

In terms of research, Gallagher was far inferior to his colleagues Salas and Dawson, so at times like this, he was more inclined to rely on their suggestions and opinions. He asked in a deep voice, “It seems he has acquired some extremely valuable magical knowledge from the Magic Net Forum… from that Mr. Turing. Perhaps it’s a portion of the Fragments of Truth, lost since ancient times.”

The so-called “Fragments of Truth” was a descriptive term in the casting world. Before the founding of the Federation, the ancient wizard kingdoms of the Southern Continent were teeming with Legendary figures and geniuses. There were even rumors of powerful wizards who stood at the pinnacle of the casting world. While attempting to transcend the Legendary rank and touch upon the ultimate aspiration of all Spellcasters—the demigod rank—they had chanced upon a legacy bequeathed by ancient divine races. The magical knowledge it contained was so profound and obscure that they could only manage to decipher and analyze a tiny fraction of it in their lifetimes.

They collectively referred to this divine legacy as the “Fragments of Truth,” proclaiming that anyone who could decipher the knowledge within would have the chance to touch divinity and truth, achieving a true ascension and transcendence in their level of existence.

Dawson frowned. “So what? You suspect that the Forum’s founders, that ancient and mysterious group led by Mr. Turing… they might possess some Fragments of Truth, and have even successfully deciphered the knowledge contained within?”

Gallagher scoffed self-deprecatingly. “Suspect? Even if it’s true, what can we do? Can we just go and snatch these Fragments of Truth from Their hands? I’m certainly no match for this suspected demigod. And don’t forget, behind Him is a Mr. Observer, who is even more enigmatic and whose attitude is impossible to gauge…”

Dawson recalled how easily Mr. Turing had erased the Church’s Demon Slayers, and the uncanny methods He had used to help them assassinate the Church’s Chief Inquisitor in the Evil Moon Mining Area. A fear he hadn’t felt in a long time couldn’t help but rise in his heart.

“Don’t forget about that mysterious energy magic artifact, developed specifically to target the Demons’ weaknesses…” Salas interjected suddenly. “Do you really think that Mr. Observer gave us the weapon sample just to test its power? Or out of some groundless goodwill towards the human race?”

His body suddenly trembled, and a figure identical to his true self appeared out of thin air at the other end of the study. “Cooperation! They are hinting at cooperation with us—with the Federation… or with the human Spellcasters!”

By the window, a third corporeal illusion of Salas instantly appeared and added, “Exactly. At the very least, the message They’re sending is a friendly one for now, isn’t it?”

Gallagher coughed lightly, unfazed by the sight, his expression complicated. “It certainly seems so. Since we can cooperate with Them, there’s no need to risk shattering our relationship just to obtain Fragments of Truth that might not even exist. Besides, within the Federation, I doubt anyone would dare claim they have the ability to unravel their mysteries.”

The “five” of them in the study tacitly ended their slightly divergent discussion and returned their focus to the research paper Kel’Thuzad had just submitted.

“How should this paper be evaluated? We can’t have Salas be the sole signatory again, like last time, can we?” Dawson asked with some embarrassment.

Gallagher also frowned with a hint of difficulty. “Once this paper is published in the gazette, the wave of public opinion it stirs up will likely be no less than his previous article. You know that the arcane and elemental schools of casting have always been as incompatible as fire and water, yet this guy has managed to fuse them together perfectly, creating and refining such a strange and powerful new spell…”

Dawson subconsciously touched his red, brandy nose, for once choosing to agree with Gallagher. “The Spellcasters from both schools will surely aim the spearhead of their debates at him. The ensuing arguments and opposition will rage across the lands for a very long time. That fellow, Kel’Thuzad, is a troublemaker whose talent is as astonishing as his knack for制造 controversy!”

But the true self of Salas, sitting at the desk, spoke softly, “Isn’t that a good thing? The continent’s casting world has been a pool of stagnant water for far too long. Don’t you forget, how many years has it been since our time that the Federation and the Seven Wizard Kingdoms have seen a brilliantly talented Spellcaster advance to the Legendary rank…”

His two colleagues couldn’t help but fall silent for a moment at his words. But Salas was right. In the decades since they had formed a defensive alliance with the Church to jointly fight the demonic invasion, not a single high-level caster from either the Seven Wizard Kingdoms or the Federation had successfully advanced to the Legendary rank.

Human Spellcasters had reached a terrifying state of stagnation in their exploration of the path of magic. If this continued, even without external enemies eyeing them covetously, it would be difficult enough just to suppress the faction of Priests within the Church who were hostile to wizards—not to mention the secular nobility, who were already naturally inclined towards the Church, which better served them in ruling over mortals.

Gallagher muttered under his breath, asking tentatively, “Are you thinking of putting Kel’Thuzad on the advancement candidate list for Legendary Caster with this high-circle original spell? The Supreme Wizard Council of the Seven Kingdoms probably won’t stand by and let us act so recklessly, will they?”

Dawson snorted coldly, his attitude firm. “So what if we put him on the candidate list? Those reclusive old fogeys from the Supreme Council are already behind the times. It’s not their place to object…”

Salas’s body trembled once more. The three ethereal figures overlapped and instantly solidified into one. He shot to his feet and made a decision. “No, getting him onto the Legendary advancement candidate list is the second step we need to take…”

He brandished the research paper in his hand and chuckled with confidence. “First, we need to build some momentum for him. For instance, by promoting this brand new original spell of his as a brand new school of casting—a groundbreaking Fused Magical Energy Casting school, one that fuses the arcane and the elemental!”

The Scorching Sovereign slowly walked to the window, looking down upon the whole of Araye, which was enveloped by the Celestial Domain’s Mage Tower, and murmured to himself, “By doing this, we’re making a sort of indirect investment in and giving our clandestine support to this Mr. Kel’Thuzad. I wonder if Mr. Turing and the others, who chose him as their agent in the real world, will be satisfied with this…”

Chapter 206: Fusion Magic, the Beginning of Chaos

It was nearing the end of the workday when Hunter, the Clerical Department’s “Magic Net Correspondent,” received a new research paper from his mentor, Sorun Dawson. He was instructed to upload it to the Spellcaster Forum overnight.

Compared to the two Chiefs, Lord Salas and Lord Gallagher, Sorun Dawson was one of the few Legendary Casters who actually cared a bit about the dissemination of knowledge and education. He had trained and promoted many students. Even someone like Hunter, who had been fortunate enough to audit a few of his public theory lectures, could claim to be his student in name.

Returning to the sealed room located in the middle layer of the Celestial Domain, Hunter found that his two colleagues from the Clerical Department had already clocked out for the day. He sighed helplessly, sat back down in front of the Magic Brain instrument, and began typing.

“Huh? This… this paper is actually on the topic of non-basic elements and force magic.”

Hunter couldn’t help but pause his work. He picked up the physical document and began to read it seriously. But after just a quick, cursory scan, he felt breathless, and the calm expression on his face gradually began to crumble.

“Most of the theories are presented within the existing framework of magic. How… how is it that when they’re put together, I can’t quite understand the content?”

He closed the document again and carefully read the title on the cover—A Study on Non-basic Elemental Casting and the Application of Lightning Force Fields in Magic Arts…

“This is… this is too advanced! To think it combines elemental magic with arcane magic to create a brand-new fusion magic art. And it’s not just a theoretical conjecture; the spell model has been successfully constructed, and they’ve even gathered feedback data from practical application!”

Hunter couldn’t help but stand up and pace around the room anxiously. After taking a moment to calm his shocked emotions, he couldn’t resist opening the paper again.

The title page, as usual, had the evaluation content at the very beginning, but for the first time ever, it lacked the initial review seal from the Department of Academic Research, and there were no procedural signatures from the thesis review committee.

Instead… instead, it was boldly signed with the joint signature of the Federation’s three Chief Archmages!

…

The Magic Encyclopedia Dsection of the Spellcaster Forum finally went live at the scheduled time, much to everyone’s anticipation.

However, since most Forum members were active communicators and frequent users of the trading function, their Forum points weren’t very abundant. Many had even exhausted their points by getting addicted to the special “Tower of Magic” card game.

The Magic Encyclopedia’s operating model encouraged members to access different levels of information based on their points. The higher one’s access level, the more materials they could view.

Just browsing the materials required a certain amount of points, and to obtain the content directly, one had to pay a real price in points. Only then could the desired information be copied and downloaded. Otherwise, one could only see a short abstract of less than a page.

This led to a slightly awkward situation: everyone entered the Magic Encyclopedia section with great excitement, only to find to their dismay that their pitiful number of points was completely insufficient to exchange for the documents they wanted. They could only stare helplessly at this illusory treasure trove of knowledge standing within the Magic Net’s Forum and sigh in regret…

Fortunately, during the initial preparations for the Magic Encyclopedia, Harvey had made an additional request to the Federation to upload all past issues of the Federation’s official bulletin to the Forum, and all new monthly content had to be published there in advance as well.

This was a perk for the Forum members, allowing them to read the Federation’s latest magic gazette for free and in advance, as well as to freely access past issues.

After all, among the Forum members were many independent spellcasters from remote areas and secular kingdoms in the real world. It was often very difficult for them to get the latest knowledge and news. A physical copy of the Federation’s official bulletin could only be circulated among their small circles by passing it from hand to hand, and most of the time it was long out of date.

Thus, most members with insufficient points chose to browse the only free content in the Encyclopedia first, looking up past gazette issues they had missed or had no way of obtaining.

The clock had just struck ten o’clock at night when a new gazette issue was updated on the Magic Encyclopedia right on schedule. It was the latest issue, set to be released in two days, and it immediately caught the attention of a large number of active members, who clicked on it and began to read.

A Study on Non-basic Elemental Casting and the Application of Lightning Force Fields in Magic Arts—Author: Kel’Thuzad.

“He… he actually organized his original magic art into a research paper and published it in the Federation’s official bulletin!” the dwarf Copperhammer, with the handle “Frost Giant,” exclaimed with wide, astonished eyes.

At the same time, more Forum members saw the article. The handles of a massive number of members began to flash rapidly on the Spellcaster Forum’s server, erupting in a silent furor.

“When studying the basic elements, I observed a unique phenomenon. Whether it is the power of lightning derived from the wind element, or the power of ice contained within the water element, they both fundamentally belong to the domain of elemental magic…”

“But why do gravity fluctuations arise from the earth element, which clearly falls under the purview of arcane magic? In the school of necromancy, casting curses requires channeling both death energy and mental energy simultaneously. And as we all know, mental energy is the medium for Celestial Magic…”

“Therefore, I boldly theorize that whether it’s elemental, arcane, death, or mental energy, their essence is simply the omnipresent, pure magical energy of the Magic Net, manifesting as different forms of energy fluctuations. At their core, they are no different! They are merely expressions of different forms of force!”

“I used lightning, gravity, and mental energy to form a unique structure in which they interact and repel each other. Within the sigil, I realized the model for this original magic art, causing them to pull and attract each other while also creating friction, ultimately erupting with powerful offensive energy!”

The title page of the paper displayed the evaluation results, as was customary.

“This paper, through wildly imaginative yet bold theories, combined with meticulous experiments and practical application data, has proven the feasibility of fusing elemental and arcane magic. The theoretical exposition is logically clear, and the experimental model is rigorously structured!”

“Everyone, in the theoretical knowledge we have always learned, how exactly are the Four Basic Elements of wind, fire, earth, and water transformed from the pure magical energy of the Magic Net into elemental structures?”

“If all the different schools of magic in the world are, in essence, nothing more than different manifestations of the Magic Net’s energy, does that not mean that the barriers and walls between the schools of magic have reached a point where they need to be completely torn down…”

“Our evaluation is this: this is not just an original fusion magic art, but a groundbreaking and subversive technology for the application of fused magical energy! It is one of the cornerstones of a new magical theory, the beginning of chaos and fusion!”

Thesis Evaluators: Kemer Salas, Sorun Dawson, Wes Gallagher.

Chapter 207: Netizen? Exam Surrogate!

Harvey manipulated the phantom condensed from his mental energy, hovering in the Magic Net space. Beside him, the Son of Flame’s eyes were tightly shut, having entered his sigil to inscribe the spell matrix.

Barely two days after the research paper was published in the Federation’s gazette, this impetuous Archmage had begun to constantly send Harvey messages. Some were simple greetings, others were idle chatter about miscellaneous things he’d seen or heard. In short, they all highlighted one core purpose—to openly and secretly urge Harvey not to forget to teach him that original spell as soon as possible!

But Harvey’s creation of this spell essentially utilized the mysterious starry sky that had suddenly appeared within his mutated Mental Anchor. It used the gravity between the stars and the anchor point to dissociate a unique electromagnetic magical energy with a fused form.

Mr. Son of Flame, however, was clearly a thoroughbred Elemental Mage. It was impossible for him to possess the vast mental energy and mutated Mental Anchor unique to a Transmigrator like Harvey. Even his sigil was a giant metal furnace.

The magical energy he condensed through meditation was all fire-elemental magic transformed by his sigil; one could say he couldn’t squeeze out a single drop of pure magical energy from the Magic Net’s source.

Although he had an epiphany one day after being a battle mage for the better part of his life and decided to switch his specialty to become a research mage, he hadn’t made any significant achievements in the field of magic research. Apart from publishing a few research papers on fire-elemental magic, his only advantage was probably that no one dared to mock him to his face for being a frail “academic beanpole,” and when faced with academic disputes with his peers, he could use his formidable combat strength to convince others with reason—in the physical sense.

How to get him to complete the construction of this fusion spell’s model and its sigil inscription was truly a difficult problem for Harvey. The first issue was his insufficient mental energy, and the second was the need to revert his elemental magical energy back into its pure form.

After consulting Mr. Mind Devil, a native of the Magic Net, Harvey obtained a solution that seemed highly feasible—using a secret ritual art passed down from ancient times to temporarily reverse the elemental magical energy contained within Mr. Son of Flame’s body. Although the entire process could only be maintained for less than three-quarters of an hour, it should be enough for him to complete the construction of this relatively uncomplicated spell model.

As for the lack of mental energy, the only choice was to spend money—both the ancient texts in the Magic Encyclopedia and the family inheritance of the half-elf Egnor contained magic potions that could significantly increase a spellcaster’s mental energy. There was more than one recipe to choose from. After discussing it, Harvey and the Son of Flame decided to use the recipe with the fewest side effects, with the Son of Flame himself being responsible for collecting the potion ingredients.

“Damn it, no! I failed at the same spot again! Dammit, why do I keep messing up here!” The Son of Flame’s mental projection’s eyes flew open. Gritting his teeth, he looked like he was about to slap himself at any moment.

Silently timing it in his mind, Harvey said nonchalantly, “A quarter of an hour has already passed, Mr. Son of Flame. We have at most three more chances for trial and error. Otherwise, we’ll have to wait for another full moon suitable for the ritual, and we’ll also have to waste another mental energy potion…”

The Son of Flame’s already dark face flushed an even deeper shade of red. Although he had a short temper, he had always been relatively gentle with Harvey. Moreover, Harvey was currently his temporary one-on-one magic tutor, so he naturally wouldn’t vent his anger on him for no reason.

“I get it, I get it! I really don’t know how much you suffered or how many precious magic materials you wasted when you first created this spell… It seems you have deep pockets, Mr. Kel’Thuzad!” he teased, taking the opportunity to calm his own impatient mood. After all, the most important thing when constructing a spell model was to maintain a stable, focused, and completely rational state of mind.

Actually, I didn’t suffer at all, nor did I spend a single magic material. I just created it by accident… Harvey silently retorted in his mind. But so as not to further damage his online friend’s confidence and morale, he wisely chose not to say it out loud.

“When you’re connecting your mental energy, you must pay attention to the form of energy transformation and the fluctuation frequency it contains. Only when you reach a certain, absolutely precise frequency of vibration will the foundation of the model be stable…” Harvey reminded him patiently.

“I’m doing it exactly as you taught me, but… but that thing is too difficult to capture. It clings to the tendrils condensed from my mental energy like strings thinner than a strand of hair. When I try to pluck them to make them vibrate, if I’m too heavy-handed, they snap, and if I’m too light… they don’t bloody move an inch,” the Son of Flame grumbled in a low voice. Still, he knew the problem was with him, so he could only try again and again with intense concentration. There was no other way.

Harvey sighed silently and waved his hand, signaling him to stop dawdling and keep trying, lest the priceless high-rank magic potion go to waste.

As the Son of Flame once again entered a meditative state and began to construct the spell model, Harvey finally couldn’t hold back. He separated a thin mental tendril from his own mental projection, secretly moved it next to the other’s sigil, and gently probed inside.

This was actually a very dangerous act. Most high-level casters, to protect themselves, would use their mental energy to guide their sigil and construct a defensive mechanism for counter-intrusion. This was often their last trump card for survival, meant to defend against special enemies like the Church’s Demon Slayers, who could cross spatial planes to lock onto a spellcaster’s sigil—their very lifeline.

Some spellcasters with violent temperaments, in order to prevent their sigils from being invaded and their thoughts from being stolen, or to avoid the even more miserable torture of having their soul searched, would even choose to detonate their sigil and perish together with the enemy in the other dimension when facing an attack they couldn’t repel.

Therefore, Harvey carried out this sneaky operation with extreme caution, striving not to trigger a reflexive defense from the Son of Flame.

“This feels like secretly correcting the terrible exam paper of a failing student. I even have to imitate his handwriting to make him think he passed on his own merit… Being an exam surrogate is so hard!”

Harvey manipulated his thread of mental energy, solidifying it into a microscopic, invisible filament. He found a momentary pause in the operation of the other’s sigil and slipped in at once.

Within the Son of Flame’s Mental Anchor, a colossal metal furnace stood in the endless, illusory space. The great roar of an anvil being constantly struck seemed to faintly echo in his ears. Every few seconds, that explosive furnace would violently spew out large amounts of fiery streams, causing the entire mental space to tremble violently.

This immense and scorching mental energy made it as if Harvey were inside a flaming mountain, making him dizzy and parched. The tiny thread of his mental energy was almost snapped by the scorching wind that swept through the space.

Harvey immediately spotted the Son of Flame hovering above the furnace, standing on the projection of a strange ritual formation. He was continuously drawing the pure magical energy transformed from the furnace, carefully guiding an illusory star above his head to slowly circle the furnace.

He was using the method Harvey had taught him to simulate the mutual pull between the star and the Mental Anchor, and from it, precisely capture the energy fluctuations needed to construct the spell model.

A faint wave of gravity suddenly appeared from the connecting tendril of his mental energy. Harvey immediately and keenly captured its fluctuation frequency, maneuvering his own mental energy to slowly approach it.

The Son of Flame also discovered this gravity wave. He quickly condensed a new mental tendril from his own projection and carefully extended it along the wave’s trajectory.

A tentative pluck, however, caused this fragile gravity wave to snap. It immediately floated away from the mental tendril it was attached to and gradually dissipated into the space.

Seizing this moment, Harvey’s mental energy shot out and latched onto the broken wave-line, instantly mending it back together to form a brand-new gravity wave.

The Son of Flame’s mental energy also sensed the sudden change. Not one to miss such a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, he once again plucked this suddenly restored string of gravity!

An invisible ripple suddenly spread throughout the mental space. The star overhead burst forth with a brilliant light, and a radioactive beam of light swept through the illusory space. The vast magical power immediately squeezed Harvey out.

“Hahahaha! I did it! I did it!”

Chapter 208: The Rescue Plan

On the bountiful peninsula along the coast of the south lay the Duchy of Faros, known as the “Land of a Thousand Sails.”

In its capital, Erisburg, stood a lavish, classical building with a sign that read “Moon and Wine Club.” This was a private establishment that required a registered membership and an introduction to enter.

A woman in a simple long dress, her head covered by a deep black veil, walked in carrying a delicate little leather case.

“Ms. Melissa, Mr. Jin has already arrived. Please, allow me to show you the way…” A waiter in a tailcoat immediately came forward to receive her, elegantly guiding the new guest up to a private lounge on the second floor.

The moment the lounge door closed, the black-haired man sitting on the sofa shot to his feet. “Melissa! Hey, you’re finally here.”

He subconsciously twisted a sea-blue ring on his finger and asked in a low voice, “Did you bring all the materials for the ritual?”

The woman called Melissa rolled her eyes in exasperation. She handed over the small leather case and complained, “I could have sent these materials safely and quickly through the Forum’s Magic Net teleportation array, but you insisted I carry them myself. I’ve been on edge this entire trip.”

Mr. Jin, a man with a lean face and a gentle expression, gave a sheepish, bitter smile. He muttered, trying to excuse himself, “You know the Forum has connection fluctuations sometimes. On the last two occasions, some members lost or had their precious materials damaged mid-transport. We can’t afford that kind of risk. Keeping them with you is the safest way…”

He gently took the case, placing it carefully on the coffee table. With a click, he opened the latch, revealing its contents: an oval, hollow shell resembling a broken eggshell, deeply immersed in a liquid within a crystal vial.

The mutated egg sac of a Black-Finned Axolotl—a rare magical creature found only among the islands of the southern seas. It was the shed remnant left behind when the creature transformed from its juvenile to adult form, rich in highly concentrated magical substances and a rare material required for certain ancient rituals.

“Since all the necessary materials are here, when do we leave to meet up with Benoit?”

Mr. Jin closed the case again and said with a light chuckle, “We can leave anytime. Benoit’s alchemical laboratory is just outside Erisburg. It’s on a prosperous country manor he received when he split from his family. We can get there in half a day by carriage…”

Melissa was silent for a moment before suddenly asking, “Jin, do you really think… that the research inspiration we’ve drawn from Mr. Kel’Thuzad’s paper is enough to support us in completing this ancient ritual?”

Melissa Peña, whose handle on the Forum was “the Astrologer,” and the man before her, Jin Gavin, handle “Eye of Illusion,” had been friends for over a decade. They had also been classmates and close friends at Oland Royal Magic Academy.

Back at Oland Royal Magic Academy, they had been called the “Crown Twin Stars” of their arcane casting school. Both had successfully advanced to mid-rank Spellcaster before the age of twenty-five, earning the opportunity to pursue advanced studies at the most prestigious magic academy on the continent—Araye Magic Academy.

After graduating from Araye Magic Academy, both had advanced to high-rank within just ten years, becoming rapidly rising stars among the Arcane Casters of the Seven Wizard Kingdoms.

Jin Gavin sighed, his voice low. “Melissa, you know I have no other choice. This ancient ritual is the last straw I can grasp. If it weren’t for your and Benoit’s help all this time, I wouldn’t have even been able to gather the materials, let alone find the research inspiration from the Forum to complete the array…”

He couldn’t help but quickly spin the ring on his finger as he walked to the window, murmuring in an urgent tone, “Our teacher has been… been stuck in that strange state for a full six years now. If, if I can’t find a way to save him soon, I’m afraid…”

Melissa couldn’t help but try to console him. “We could just ask for help from the Legendary-rank Lords on the Forum, or even… even seek help from the mysterious Mr. Turing. There’s no need to risk this all by ourselves!”

Jin Gavin turned his head, a look of terror on his face, and hissed, “Absolutely not. If those Federation members on the Forum find out about our teacher, I’m afraid even his family, his relatives, and all of us involved would find it hard to escape the repercussions. As for asking Mr. Turing for help… you know as well as I do that we could never afford the price He would ask.”

His tone shifted as he pleaded warmly, “Melissa, just help me this one last time! If it fails again, I… we’ll find a way to help our teacher find final release!”

…

Outside Erisburg, on a prosperous manor situated on a plain at the foot of a mountain.

The two Arcane Casters had just stepped down from their carriage when a middle-aged man, who had been waiting at the manor gate, hurried over to them, his expression fraught with anxiety. “You’re finally here! I was worried sick! I haven’t been able to sleep well for days!”

This was another of their close friends from the Royal Magic Academy, Benoit Kevin from the school of alchemy. He was a high-rank Alchemist whose handle on the Spellcaster Forum was “Mithril Unicorn.”

Jin’s expression froze. “Did something happen with our teacher?” he asked anxiously.

Benoit ran a hand through his thinning hair in frustration. “Since last week, even the maximum dose of sleeping potion can’t get him to fall into a peaceful slumber. And… and since last night, I’ve noticed his body has begun to show signs of fleshly disintegration. I added another potion to promote flesh regeneration and repair, but it’s not very effective.”

Melissa analyzed the situation calmly, “Forcibly containing such immense and chaotic magic… even a battle mage who has undergone flesh-strengthening rituals couldn’t last this long. If our teacher hadn’t been in the middle of casting a polymorph spell, with the transformation state bizarrely locked in place, allowing him to endure the rampant energy within his body in the form of an ancient Demonic beast, he would probably have… six years ago.”

The three of them discussed the matter in low, rapid voices as they walked into the manor, soon arriving at the alchemical laboratory Benoit had set up in the basement.

“Let’s prepare all the materials for the ritual here first. We’ll head to the cave in the mountains where our teacher is hidden late tonight to complete the transformation ritual.”

Jin Gavin turned to his friend and said suddenly, “Benoit, please bring your family’s heirloom alchemical weapon. The Judas Demon-Breaking Crossbow. Melissa and I have already discussed it. If the ritual fails… we will help our teacher find true release.”

With that, he materialized a stack of parchment scrolls from the storage ring on his finger and waved it in his hand.

“Now, you two need to listen carefully to my explanation. This comes from Mr. Kel’Thuzad’s research paper. Since he has already proven the feasibility of fusing elemental magic and Arcane Magic, then reverse-extracting and purifying this chaotic, jumbled magic, and converting it back into independent mana channels, must also be possible!”

Chapter 209: Crisis and Truth

Around nine o’clock at night, the moon’s pale light filtered through the sparse canopy, dappling the rugged mountain path.

The bountiful manor owned by Benoit Kevin’s family also included the dense mountain forest behind it. The manor’s tenant farmers cultivated many tea trees native to the Duchy of Faros on the slopes, earning the Kevin family a handsome profit from the tea trade.

“After secretly moving our teacher here six years ago, I had my confidants and servants spread a rumor in the nearby villages and towns that a tea picker had died in a landslide caused by a torrential downpour… and I claimed that because my family prohibits the Church from operating on our lands, the poor soul’s spirit couldn’t receive mass, leading to legends of the mountain being haunted at night.”

Panting, Benoit led his two classmates deeper into the mountains, recounting his security measures with a hint of pride. Although the Duchy of Faros was a secular kingdom, the Church’s influence wasn’t prominent; it was kept firmly in check by the local Federation Spellcasters.

Melissa wasn’t burdened with ritual materials like the two men, so her trek was slightly easier. “Even if common folk are ignorant and timid, could a baseless rumor about a haunting truly keep them away from this tea mountain for years?”

Jin set down his pack and stopped to catch his breath. He explained with a smile, “A rumor alone wouldn’t be enough, of course. I also procured a number of shadow bat vocal cords from various secret Spellcaster societies, and Benoit used them to create alchemical traps that produce ghostly shrieks and illusory phantoms. We placed them at key points at the foot of the mountain to deter any hunters or herb gatherers who might venture up.”

Melissa rolled her eyes speechlessly and muttered, “I still don’t think this is safe. Even if we don’t ask the Legendary Lords on the Forum for help, we should have contacted Mr. Kel’Thuzad beforehand to get a viable method for magical energy reversal from him, instead of…”

Seeing the color drain slightly from Jin’s face, Benoit quickly interjected to smooth things over. “Alright, it’s too late to change our plans now. All the ritual materials are prepared. Let’s just take it one step at a time!”

…

After a good two or three hours, the trio finally reached a hidden cave on the mountainside just before midnight.

The cave was actually a natural cavern formed by a landslide. However, since the mountain forest didn’t yield any minerals, it was quickly forgotten and abandoned, making it the perfect place for them to hide and conduct their secret ritual.

Benoit waved his hands, summoning a Mage Hand to sweep aside the thick vines concealing the cave entrance. The three of them held up their activated light-emitting magic stones and ducked inside.

After walking for no more than a hundred meters through a winding tunnel in the mountainside, the space opened up, and a natural cavern the size of a castle appeared before them.

From the darkness beyond the reach of the magic stones’ light came a series of strange, rhythmic gasps, like some unknown, terrifying beast chewing and swallowing in the shadows.

Melissa took the magic stones from the other two, quickly chanted a spell, and levitated all three. They began to spin rapidly, erupting in a brilliant light. She tossed the clustered stones toward the cavern ceiling, where they hovered and bathed the entire space in light, leaving no corner in shadow.

A common, low-circle utility spell for Arcane Casters—Arcane Radiance. It only required light-emitting magic stones as a component and could provide floating illumination for several hours.

There, on the ground just a dozen paces in front of them, lay a massive beast, its body as large as a four-wheeled carriage. It was pitch-black, covered in a fine network of crimson patterns. Its four legs, however, were unnaturally slender and twisted, utterly incongruous with its bulky torso, as if they had been hastily stitched on.

Most terrifying of all, from the neck up, it had a human head with disheveled hair, its face pressed tightly to the ground, its features obscured.

The ceaseless, strange gasps were coming from this terrifying half-human, half-beast creature. With each breath, the crimson patterns on its body pulsed, glowing faintly then dimly in the light.

Jin’s face flushed with emotion. He lurched forward two steps and said in a trembling voice, “Teacher Duncan! Teacher?”

The terrifying beast’s body shuddered slightly. Driven by its gaunt neck, the head slowly and agonizingly lifted from the ground, revealing an old, ashen-gray face. Its bulging eyes were a murky, jaundiced yellow. It opened its dry, cracked lips but could only manage a dry, guttural rasp.

Melissa gasped, covering her mouth as her eyes reddened. “How did Teacher Duncan become… like this…”

“Teacher Duncan is a more powerful high-rank Arcane Mage than any of us… Six years ago, during that battle with the high-rank Priest from the Church, he rashly cast an Ancient Transfiguration spell that he hadn’t fully deconstructed yet. He wanted to defeat his enemy in the form of an ancient Wyrm… and this was the result…” Jin murmured, his voice low.

“But why? He won that battle, didn’t he? It was a difficult victory, but wasn’t it confirmed by the Church that the high-rank Priest’s lantern of life-spirit had been extinguished, declaring him officially dead?”

Jin let out a low, self-deprecating laugh, his voice trembling slightly. “He won… The Magical Wyrm our teacher transformed into devoured that Priest whole… But when he tried to end the spell and return to his normal form, he became… this…”

“Alright, we can discuss the details of what happened back then later. The most important thing now is to complete the ritual and free our teacher from this state!” Benoit urged as he began pulling ritual components from his pack.

The three of them immediately snapped back to the present and began their assigned tasks.

Jin was responsible for drawing the ritual circle’s sigils with a potion concocted through esoteric methods, while Benoit took out the prepared ritual materials one by one and placed them in their designated positions within the circle.

Lying in the center of the incomplete circle, Duncan once again lifted his withered, old head and retched, vomiting a large, dark red clot of blood. The moment the clot hit the ground, it squirmed and writhed as if alive, slithering back into the crimson cracks patterning his body.

“It’s flesh disintegration. But with the flesh-knitting potion I injected him with earlier, he can hold on for a while longer.”

Benoit took a rust-spotted brass brazier from his pack and placed it on the southwest point of the circle. He tossed in the mutated egg sac of the Black-Finned Axolotl that Melissa had brought, along with other equally rare magical ingredients. He rubbed his fingers together, produced a flicker of flame, and quickly lit the brazier.

At the same time, Jin finished drawing the final part of the circle’s sigils. He stood up and began to chant the ancient ritual incantation.

The air suddenly went still for a second, then an invisible whirlwind began to stir, and the surrounding darkness seemed to writhe as if it were alive.

The ritual circle began to shine with a dim, dark red light. The lines of the drawn sigils seemed to flow with half-coagulated blood, all of which converged beneath Duncan, who was lying in the center.

Duncan’s grotesquely transformed body began to tremble violently. He struggled to lift his head again, but his ashen-gray face suddenly twisted, the corners of his mouth curling into a bizarre smile.

Splat!

His two murky, yellow eyeballs suddenly burst and fell to the ground. From the bloody sockets, two crimson, twisting tentacles shot out, whipping toward the nearest person—Jin!

Chapter 210: A Late-Night Online Plea for Help

A crystalline, illusory barrier instantly materialized around Jin. Two twisted tentacles slammed into it, then were swiftly thrown back to the center of the ritual array.

It was the fifth-circle defensive spell of an Arcane Caster—Mirror Veil.

“What’s happening? Why isn’t the ritual working at all? It’s even accelerating Teacher Duncan’s mutation!” Benoit exclaimed, a jumble of shock and anger making his words incoherent.

“Jin, didn’t you say that according to Mr. Kel’Thuzad’s research, this complete ancient ritual array could re-analyze and convert the chaotic magical energy inside our teacher?”

Jin had cast the spell purely on instinct, barely escaping the attack. Now, he broke out in a cold sweat and retreated several steps, moving out of the ritual array’s range.

“I don’t know either. According to the descriptions in that ancient tome of rituals, every step we took and every material we used was correct…”

He abruptly slapped his forehead, a look of horrified realization dawning on his face. “I know! I know now! It’s the high-rank Priest our teacher polymorphed into a dragon and devoured! Because he… he was our teacher’s own blood relative! Being devoured by his own kin triggered an ancient bloodline curse. That’s what caused our teacher’s physical mutation!”

A mix of shock and anger washed over Melissa. She questioned him with a trembling voice, “Why are you only telling us this now? Is this why you wouldn’t let me post a public plea for help on the Forum? Teacher Duncan’s family… has a high-rank Priest of the Church in it!”

Benoit, who clearly knew some of the inside story, sighed softly. “Teacher Duncan comes from a prominent ancient wizard family. Their line dates all the way back to the ancient magical empire. They are true descendants of an ancient wizard bloodline. If something like this were to become public…”

“So the cause of the bloodline curse recorded in that ancient tome of rituals… it’s exactly what we’re seeing right now. A physical mutation that occurs after devouring one’s own kin… The secrets and unknowns hidden within the ancient wizard bloodlines are simply too terrifying.”

As they spoke, more dark-red, writhing tentacles erupted from the strangely transformed Duncan’s ears, nose, and mouth. They danced about like grotesque snakes, but they seemed constrained by the ritual array, unable to break through its perimeter and attack the three standing outside.

Melissa hesitated for a moment, then gritted her teeth and asked Benoit and Jin, “What do we do? Should we use the Judas Demon-Breaking Crossbow? Jin, make a decision!”

Benoit immediately pulled a small, golden hand-crossbow from his storage ring. He clutched it tightly but couldn’t bring himself to aim it at Duncan inside the array. With red-rimmed eyes, he looked to his closest friend and asked in a shaky voice, “Jin?”

Jin swayed slightly, but his expression quickly hardened with resolve. “No, don’t! Let’s wait. Let’s wait and see what happens. For now, the array can still contain these things that are mutating from our teacher’s body…”

He twisted the storage ring on his finger, but instead of a weapon, he surprisingly pulled out a small, brass-colored typewriter-like device and tossed it to Melissa. “Quick! Melissa, log in to the Spellcaster Forum! Ask for help from any Legendary lord who’s still online!”

Melissa instinctively caught the Magic Brain device, took out a charged magic stone to power it on, and logged in. Then, her face pale, she turned to the others and said blankly, “It’s midnight. There’s no one online… I… I only see one handle still lit up. Mr. Neumann. Should… should I send a message to Him?”

…

Harvey was in the castle study. He had been surfing the Magic Encyclopedia with great intensity since dinner, deep into the night, and had almost missed the optimal time for his midnight meditation.

The ancient magical tomes and historical documents organized and uploaded by the Federation to the Magic Encyclopedia weren’t of much direct help to his current experiments, but they vastly expanded his horizons and knowledge. Among them were more than a few theoretical studies and experimental concepts that orthodox Spellcasters had cast aside like worn-out shoes, but which he found to be full of fascinating and creative ideas.

He was just about to log off the Forum and begin his meditation when he suddenly noticed a member’s handle on the server begin to flash rapidly. A private message was sent to him with great speed.

The message was addressed to his obscure alias—Observer Neumann.

“Hmm? It’s this rather inactive user, the Astrologer. Why would he suddenly contact a forum administrator?”

Full of questions, Harvey opened the private message and found the other party had sent only a single, unusually brief line of text.

【The Astrologer: Esteemed Mr. Observer, we, Forum members the Astrologer, Eye of Illusion, and Mithril Unicorn, urgently plead for your help! We are in a situation of extreme danger and desperately await your response!】

A plea for help? A Forum member was actively sending him an urgent cry for help…

Harvey immediately sat up straight and quickly typed a reply:【Observer Neumann: I am here. What has happened?】

While replying to “the Astrologer,” he split off a portion of his mental energy and sent it delving into the Magic Net space, speeding toward the location pinpointed by the message.

【The Astrologer: I am very sorry to disturb you. We… we’ve encountered an unexpected problem during an ancient ritual. The ritual was meant to save a high-level caster who is in an abnormal state. He is our mentor at the academy…】

By the time Harvey had received the full details of the incident from them, he had already shuttled through the Magic Net and arrived directly at the location transmitted by the members.

Three gleaming sigils hovered in the Magic Net space, surrounding a bizarrely shaped… object. It looked like a strange creation formed from two sigils, twisted and tangled together.

“No, that’s not right! That isn’t two sigils. It’s… it’s one sigil and the life-soul projection of a Church Priest. They’re bizarrely intertwined, forming a twisted substance that fuses the energy of divine arts with magical energy.”

A mix of astonishment and curiosity, Harvey slowly approached the dim substance. He saw that at the point where they fused, a mass of fine, earthworm-like vascular tentacles had grown. They were interconnected, forming a complete and strangely harmonious energy circulation pathway.

The divine energy of the Luminous Theocracy had somehow achieved circulation and balance with a Spellcaster’s magical energy in this bizarre fashion…

“Someone was secretly experimenting with fusing divine arts and magic, and some unknown accident occurred, creating this… thing. I fear that in the real world, the Spellcaster who conducted this experiment is in a perilous state.”

He immediately directed his mental energy to connect directly to the Spellcaster Forum and sent a message to “the Astrologer.”

【Observer Neumann: I see it. A twisted, forbidden creation. Are you… and your teacher… conducting a forbidden experiment in serious violation of the Spellcaster Accords?】

Melissa looked up in terror, her gaze falling on Benoit and Jin, who were desperately pouring their magical energy into the ritual array to maintain the seal and keep it stable. Her voice trembled as she said, “That Mr. Observer… He actually replied… But… but He told me He can see everything we’re doing right now… We’re not in huge trouble, are we?”

While struggling to pour his own magical energy into the ritual array, Jin pulled out an arcane magic stone to replenish his draining reserves. Large beads of sweat dotted his forehead as he answered Melissa without looking back.

“What did you expect? As far as I know, both Mr. Turing and Mr. Neumann are suspected to be ancient beings of the demigod rank. There’s no doubt about it. Since His venerable title is ‘Observer,’ He can certainly perceive our current situation instantly.”

Benoit’s face was pale. He kept pulling magical components from his pockets and tossing them into the brass brazier to prevent the ritual array’s core energy from dying out. He urged Melissa anxiously,

“Hurry, ask Mr. Observer for help! Beg Him to help us, to draw out and convert the chaotic magic in Teacher Duncan’s body! Whatever price He asks, we’ll do everything we can to pay it!”

Chapter 211: Cybernetic Surgery

In fact, as soon as “the Astrologer” sent the follow-up message detailing the crisis and pleading for specific help, Harvey had already begun to tentatively probe the twisted, fused sigil within the Magic Net, using the mental energy he had coalesced.

The moment Harvey’s mental tendrils touched the tangled, scarlet flesh tendrils, they shriveled and receded back into their respective fragmented sigils, like snow meeting a red-hot branding iron.

Harvey was delighted. It seemed that by eliminating all these scarlet tendrils, he could completely separate the two fragmented sigils. In terms of difficulty, it was as simple as a gardener pruning a hedge with shears.

But the problem was that neither a Spellcaster nor a Church Priest could possibly survive in the real world and maintain a normal state with only fragmented sigils and life-soul projections.

Sigils and life-soul projections were both soul imprints formed in the Magic Net space from the caster’s own mental energy. If even their soul and mind were in a fragmented state, their physical body could not possibly remain unharmed.

This… or rather, these two, the high-level caster and the Church Priest who were entangled, mutated, and fused into one, must have physical bodies on the verge of collapse in the real world, and it would be difficult for them to maintain normal mental faculties.

If this had been some stranger Harvey encountered while casually roaming the Magic Net, he would most likely have left them with a “Incurable, beyond saving, just wait to die!” But since it was a Forum member who had come to him for help, and setting aside the price they were willing to pay, Harvey had to at least try to help just to maintain his powerful and mysterious online persona.

Since the owner of the fragmented life-soul was a Priest of the Radiant Church, Harvey naturally couldn’t be bothered with him. Since he was a lost cause anyway, why not try to use his remaining half-projection to mend the fragmented parts of the caster’s sigil?

[Observer Neumann: I can attempt to strip the chaotic magic from your teacher’s body, but I cannot guarantee he will be restored to his original state. If I fail, I will instantly obliterate this twisted creation. Can you accept these terms?]

Melissa relayed Harvey’s message to her two dear friends, who were busy maintaining the formation.

Jin and Benoit exchanged a look, then gritted his teeth. “Agree to Mr. Observer’s terms! We’re out of options. Compared to this failing ritual, Mr. Neumann’s intervention increases our teacher’s chances of survival a hundredfold!”

Once he had their consent, Harvey manipulated his mental tendrils and began to rapidly dissolve and prune the twisted flesh tendrils on the sigil and life-soul. Soon, the fused and merged sections of the two soul projections were cleaned up completely.

At this point, if he were to guide his mental energy to strike the fissure connecting the two, he could probably separate the two projected emblems in an instant. The consequence, however, would be the immediate death of the Spellcaster in the real world.

Therefore, Harvey boldly used a method he had prepared in advance—he controlled his own sigil, lunged at them, and swiftly devoured them into his mutated Mental Anchor.

…

Standing on the familiar gray-black beach within his Mental Anchor, Harvey looked at the being before him, which resembled a deformed conjoined twin, and an inexplicable chill ran down his spine.

It was too bizarre, too disgusting… It could no longer be called human.

Although it still had two arms and two legs on each side, its heads and faces were bizarrely fused together, appearing abnormally swollen and deformed, teetering precariously on a thin neck.

Its four limbs were also extremely twisted and slender, unable to support it in an upright position, forcing it to crawl and squirm on the ground.

“It seems there is a severe mutual repulsion between magic and divine art. No wonder no one has ever successfully managed to perfectly fuse the two in thousands of years… Of course, this in itself is the most forbidden of taboos, not permitted by either faction.”

The waves of mental energy emanating from the conjoined being allowed Harvey to clearly distinguish their identities. The half that was clearly weaker in form must be the Church Priest; it looked like he had been forced into this miserable state.

Perhaps he was captured to participate in a Spellcaster’s insane experiment, or perhaps he was defeated in a battle and used a secret art in his final moments, hoping to take the Spellcaster down with him.

As Harvey pondered the origins of the situation, he slowly approached the deformed, conjoined being. The eerie bloody maws on his chest and abdomen, whose origins he still hadn’t figured out, immediately manifested, faintly sending Harvey signals of desire and extreme hunger.

As Harvey drew close to the part of the deformed body belonging to the Church Priest, the largest bloody maw on his abdomen reacted swiftly. It shot out and bit down viciously. In an instant, more bloody maws of various sizes appeared all over Harvey’s body, all lunging out to begin a bloody and horrifying feeding frenzy.

Soon, nearly half of the Priest’s body had been devoured, leaving only a pathetic chest, abdomen, and a single arm and leg dangling precariously from the caster’s side. Even half of the head had been gnawed off by the bloody maws Harvey had manifested.

The Spellcaster’s body clearly retained a faint consciousness. It let out a sharp shriek, its murky, yellowed eyes filled with utter terror as it squirmed and tried to flee.

Harvey immediately stopped the devouring and stepped back to observe from a distance.

The situation was just as he had expected. After a-he had upset the a-balance of the conjoined body, the more robust and stronger caster part actually began to rapidly absorb the fragmented Priest part, quickly mending the deformities and twists in its own limbs.

Harvey immediately channeled his vast mental energy, sweeping up the caster’s projection and leaving the Mental Anchor to return to the Magic Net space.

The two half-shattered, fused sigils, which had been dim and fragmented at the a-start, were now no longer so. Instead, they began to pulse with waves of magic, slowly rotating and beginning to repair themselves.

“As expected of a high-level caster. Even in such a crisis, he still has ways to try and save himself…”

Of course, this also depended on the fact that in this evenly matched struggle of mutual devouring, Harvey had tipped the scales of life in the caster’s favor with a weight of his own—one that weighed eight hundred pounds.

…

In the real world, Melissa and the others suddenly saw Teacher Duncan’s body, which was lying in the center of the ritual formation, twist bizarrely. Then, the skin and appearance of his transformed Wyrm form began to crack inch by inch, turning to ash and scattering away, revealing what was clearly human skin underneath, albeit pale and bloodless.

Streams of thick, putrid black pus gushed out from beneath the massive body, flowing across the ground along the lines of the ritual formation.

Soon, the twisted monster, trapped in its transformed state, had completely disintegrated, leaving only a pale, naked old man lying in the center of the formation, his eyes tightly shut in a deep sleep.

Benoit immediately took off his mage robe, rushed forward to cover his teacher’s body, and bent down to check his condition. He turned his head with a苦涩的笑容 wry smile. “His limbs are severely twisted and atrophied. I’m afraid Teacher’s arms and legs can’t be saved…”

Jin and Melissa also walked over and knelt on one knee, their faces showing expressions of great relief. “That doesn’t matter. As long as Teacher is alive, this is completely acceptable. Benoit, you’ll be in charge of preparing the potions to help Teacher wake up and recover as soon as possible… I heard the Esoteric Society has transplant surgery for alchemical prosthetics. I wonder if you have any connections…”

Benoit immediately cut off Jin’s wishful thinking. “Don’t count on the Esoteric Society. That technology is completely immature. Everyone who has undergone the transplant surgery has suffered severe limb rejection. Teacher can’t withstand that kind of torment right now…”

As Jin and the others were in heated discussion, they all suddenly felt a vast and majestic wave of mental energy surge in from their sigils. An ethereal, layered voice resonated in their minds almost simultaneously.

“It seems the rescue was a success. Heh, ladies and gentlemen… do not forget to pay the price you owe. Good night!”

The three of them, pale-faced, slumped to the ground and stared at each other. For a moment, no one spoke.

Chapter 212: The Observer’s Protection

On the outskirts of Erisburg, in a manor belonging to the Kevin family.

Melissa and Jin sat in a lavishly decorated study, each lost in thought as they held their cups of hot tea.

Benoit walked in with his hands clasped, startling the two of them back to their senses. They both spoke at once, asking, “How is our teacher? Has he woken up yet?”

Benoit, a high-rank Alchemist and a skilled potion master, rolled his eyes. “It’s not that fast,” he said, exasperated. “It’s only been two days. This is trauma on a spiritual level. If not for Mr. Neumann’s terrifying power, even if we had managed to free our teacher from his transformed state through a ritual, he would have most likely become a paralyzed, senile, and frail old man, the kind who wouldn’t have many years left to live…”

Jin quickly pressed, “What about now? With Mr. Observer’s help, our teacher can at least retain his abilities as a Spellcaster, right?”

Melissa sighed softly. “His limbs are crippled. What good is it to remain a Spellcaster? Physical damage this severe will affect his mental energy. I’m afraid our teacher’s rank will fall…”

Benoit waved his hand, trying to lighten the mood. “In any case, at least his life was saved. I’ve already arranged for the workshop to custom-make a wheelchair for him. When he wakes up in a while, we can take him out for walks right away.”

Jin coughed, changing the subject with a worried tone. “So, what do we do now? The… price for Observer Neumann’s intervention. How can we possibly afford to pay it…”

“I’ve privately asked some Forum members I’m close with, including some who were invited to join when the Forum was first established,” Melissa calmly analyzed. “According to them, Mr. Turing only requires that the principle of equivalent exchange is upheld. Mr. Neumann, by contrast, is not as active, so no one really knows his preferences or demands…”

Benoit suggested tentatively, “Why don’t we contact Mr. Neumann through the Forum again and ask him directly what he wants from us? It’s equivalent exchange, after all. What is a trivial matter for Him is a matter of life and death for us and our teacher…”

Jin spread his hands helplessly. “My family has declined. Benoit is a marginal descendant in his family who isn’t valued, and Melissa doesn’t even come from a wizard family… We simply don’t have anything valuable enough to exchange for our teacher’s life.”

As he spoke, he dutifully took out all the possessions he always carried with him from his storage ring and laid them out—a standard-issue amplification staff from the Esoteric Society which he had bought through the magic black market, a pile of cheap casting materials that made even Benoit shake his head, and a defensive magic artifact in the shape of a headband inlaid with an aquamarine gemstone, but it was only mid-rank and not particularly valuable. Perhaps the only thing of worth was a small leather case neatly filled with several dozen high-quality, high-rank Arcane magic stones…

Jin rubbed his hands and added awkwardly, “I also have about forty thousand pounds in savings at the Oland Royal Bank… Heh, if I tried to pay Mr. Neumann’s price with gold pounds, I’m afraid He’d come through and blast me to smithereens… That would be a provocation and an insult.”

Benoit was also quite frank. “All my assets are invested in the workshop I founded. The low-rank alchemical products it makes are sold through the magic black market, and the profits are not even a fraction of what the Esoteric Society makes… This manor is a necessary residence for us and for our teacher’s recovery. Even if we offered it in exchange, Mr. Neumann wouldn’t be interested. As for that Anti-Magic Suppression device I gave Jin last time, I still have one more in stock…”

Melissa shook her head repeatedly as she listened, then interrupted, “What are you two thinking? These low-value magic artifacts and materials, this insignificant business and money—which of these could possibly impress an ancient being who is likely a demigod in rank?”

She stood up and walked to the window. After a moment of silence, she turned and decisively suggested, “The fact is, we simply can’t afford the price of His intervention. Why don’t we just propose to become His followers and agents? A being like Him must need Spellcasters who can walk in the real world to carry out some of His secret plans, right?”

“Followers… and agents? Why does that sound like some evil, ancient devil-worshipping sacrificial ritual?” Jin muttered, shrinking back with a sudden flicker of fear. “This… a price like that would cost us our freedom and our souls. That’s a hundred times more miserable than facing death!”

Melissa rolled her eyes again, returned to the sofa, and began to analyze the situation seriously. “Can’t you two see? Whether it’s Mr. Turing or Mr. Neumann, They created the Forum and share knowledge. They grant almost every request from the Spellcaster members, and Their attitude has always been very friendly. They don’t try to control or enslave anyone from a position of superiority. They are fundamentally different from the chaotic, twisted devils from other dimensions!”

“Humans, Elves, Burrowing Dwarves, and even hostile non-human races like the Demons—in the eyes of beings whose lifespans are as long as history itself, we are all no different from ants. They treat everyone equally.”

“Even if They really do have some other secret agenda for creating the Spellcaster Forum, it’s not our place to worry about it. There’s more than one Legendary-rank Lord in the Forum. Don’t you think they would have a way to deal with it?”

Melissa’s clear and rational analysis finally convinced her two close friends, Jin and Benoit. They planned for Melissa to be the one to directly propose to Mr. Observer that, since they could not afford the high price equivalent to a life, they had decided to repay the debt by becoming his followers.

…

Harvey stared at the flashing text on the Magic Brain device, stunned for a long moment before he finally understood the three Forum members’ intention—they were planning to work off their debt by pledging their service to him, using their inability to pay an equivalent price as the reason.

This made Harvey a little angry. He was a Mage Lord living in the Northern Barren Lands. What kind of work could three high-rank Spellcasters do for him? Was he supposed to invite them all to his pioneer territories to be his personal magic tutors?

This was a blatant attempt to welsh on their debt, right to his face!

No high-rank Spellcaster was a pauper. Even if they had just sent him a sum of one hundred thousand gold pounds, it would have greatly eased the financial pressure on his territory. Fifty thousand would have been fine, too… In short, besides magic materials or high-rank magic artifacts, even a simple payment of money would have been far more useful to Harvey than them offering to pledge their service.

To maintain the Observer’s mysterious and powerful image on the Forum, Harvey managed to hold back from flying into a rage. However, he did express, in a not-so-subtle and slightly disdainful tone, that he didn’t really need followers and agents in the real world. This was meant as a small warning and deterrent.

But since they truly believed they couldn’t afford to pay, Harvey couldn’t just let his efforts go to waste for free. Followers it was, then. He could treat it as gaining a few one-way informants and enforcers, making it easier for him to monitor the various situations in the south’s magical community.

Besides, they were three genuine high-rank Spellcasters. With them as his enforcers, at least he wouldn’t be so timid and end up in such a sorry state if he ever needed to go to the south to handle matters again.

[Observer Neumann: While this is not what I require, it does indeed conform to the principle of equivalent exchange… Heh, in that case, I agree to the method of payment you have proposed.]

[The Astrologer: Thank you for your generosity and benevolence! Then… I wonder, what kind of ritual or… sacrifice is required to become your followers?]

[Observer Neumann: Do you take me for one of the Devils from another dimension? Haha, how interesting! No sacrificial ritual is needed. I do not require such petty means to restrain and control you. The founding principles of the Forum explicitly include the requirement of “freedom.” You only need to listen to and comply with my requests at certain necessary moments, and do your best to act upon them…]

[Observer Neumann: Of course, I will not ignore your contributions. If you fall into crisis while completing a task for me, I will also provide the necessary protection and help.]

Chapter 213: Magic Microscope

The last vestiges of high summer drew to a close with the fading drone of the cicadas, heralding the coming of the harvest season.

This was the second harvest season the pioneer territories had seen. According to Rainer’s preliminary estimates, the yield from the grain crops, improved by Egnor’s spells, would be several times greater than the previous year. It would not only satisfy the needs of the territory’s more than ten thousand residents for the entire winter but also cover their food consumption for the first half of the following year.

But Harvey had no intention of exporting food. Driven by the innate instinct of a transmigrator to farm and hoard grain, he would rather let the golden barley, wheat, and beans grow mold in the dozens of warehouses he had built than sell them to the greedy nobles of the south who leeched off the common people.

However, the territory’s only export bringing in revenue seemed to be the magic steam engine he had personally modified and designed. Although its price was low, the advantage of a technological monopoly meant it could essentially cover the gold pounds he spent on his perennial imports.

The territory had started cultivating cotton last winter, so there was no longer a need to import large quantities of cotton and linen for the garment workshops. As for food, the territory was completely self-sufficient; both staples and meat could meet the demand.

Even the soap production, which had previously been commissioned to the Dragonstone Merchant Guild, was now being handled in a new workshop Harvey had built in the territory. It was being produced in small batches and was proving to be very popular in the Market District.

The only things that still needed to be procured through the Dragonstone Merchant Guild were items like sugar, salt, and spices, as well as luxury goods the territory couldn’t produce itself—such as the black tea Harvey was accustomed to drinking. The sole drawback of the pioneer territories, it seemed, was the inability to grow the tea trees that thrived only in the warm coastal regions of the south.

…

“My lord, the finished Bicycles have been on the market for nearly half a month now. We’ve even set aside a sufficiently spacious storefront in the Market District and assigned staff from City Hall specifically for sales, and they’ve been working hard to promote them…”

Rainer’s tone was somewhat awkward as he reported, “But… but sales are not optimistic. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with our product, but… but the residents simply can’t learn to ride a Bicycle. It’s just too difficult for them.”

Harvey had first allocated the initial batch of Bicycles to City Hall and the Police Department, ordering all employees in both departments to learn to ride them as quickly as possible. This was not only to facilitate their daily work but also to serve as a form of living advertisement.

But a week had passed, and less than thirty percent of the staff had managed to learn. When Harvey went to inspect, he found most of them with bruised cheeks, limping about—a clear sign they had face-planted countless times while learning.

“We’re all human, so why could I race around on the dirt roads in the countryside on a bike when I was five, while these adults can’t even get started? Surely learning to ride a bike can’t be influenced by race or genetics, can it?” Harvey covered his face and grumbled to himself.

In the end, he could only attribute it to the people of this era having too little exposure to new things. Perhaps their lack of worldly knowledge resulted in poor physical coordination.

“But I heard the soldiers in the army learned quite quickly. Is it because most of them are young?”

Rainer nodded and stated tactfully, “Indeed, they ride fast and steady. However… they don’t seem particularly interested in Bicycles. When they’re on leave from the barracks, a large number of soldiers and officers like to hang around outside the Magic Motorcycle R&D factory, craning their necks and trying to get information. The factory guards can’t even drive them away by prodding them with their guns…”

After experiencing the exhilarating feeling of flying across the ground at lightning speed on a Magic Motorcycle, who would still be interested in a creaky Bicycle?

Harvey sighed and said helplessly, “The first trial models of the Magic Motorcycle should be rolling off the production line by the end of this month. Pierce has also been secretly hinting at me several times, looking ridiculously impatient.”

But the real reason for the delay was a result of Harvey’s own making. After his prosthetic limb transplant surgery, Chris had returned to work after resting for less than a week. But then Harvey, on a whim, gave him an additional research project that completely captivated him, leaving him unable to spare any attention to oversee the normal production at the Magic Motorcycle factory.

…

“My lord, the glass lenses made from the firing method you provided are indeed clearer and more transparent than the crystal lenses we used to use!” Chris exclaimed excitedly, waving his new mechanical prosthetic.

Sometime earlier, Harvey had given Chris a manuscript he had drawn in his spare time, instructing him to complete the design based on the structural sketches and then build a simple version of a microscope.

But this level of magnification was clearly insufficient for observing alchemical potions and biological matter. So, Harvey had also added “Living Source Code” extracted from beetle ore and Magic Spirits to the microscope, solidifying the amplifying effect of pure magical energy into two energy runes: “Magnify” and “Detect.”

Ever since Chris got his hands on this magic microscope, he had been tinkering with it non-stop, except when eating or sleeping. The microscopic world revealed under the lens was like a new continent to him, thoroughly igniting his passion for research.

Sitting on the sofa in the Laboratory, Harvey watched with a smile as Chris and Egnor fought over the microscope. He asked, “How is it? Are the observations any good?”

“It’s a sight I’ve never seen before… I’ve used it to observe the magical plants from the plantation, minerals rich in magical energy… and the flesh and fur of magical creatures. Under the lens of this instrument, they appear exactly as they do when observed with the naked eye!”

Chris’s voice trembled with excitement. “My lord, what you said before… about the existence of even smaller elements beneath the Four Basic Elements… were those unknown elements… observed through this magical instrument?”

Harvey smiled and nodded, letting Chris’s repeated questions go unanswered. It was better for them to discover this new knowledge, which completely shattered current magical theories, for themselves.

Egnor seized the opportunity to take over the viewing position at the microscope. He carefully placed a few drops of liquid extracted from a magical plant onto a glass slide. “There are living things swimming in these plant extracts! I’ve never heard of such a thing. And though they are tiny, their numbers are immense. In just a single drop, I can’t even count them all…”

Chris took the dropper and mixed another plant extract into the drop Egnor was observing. In the circular field of view of the microscope, two completely different-shaped living substances swam about freely. Upon contact, they began to rapidly devour each other, attempting to assimilate the other.

“They have such bizarre shapes, but most are transparent, so you can clearly see their insides. But they have no internal organs or bones, nor do they have exoskeletons and jointed limbs like insects…”

Chris picked up the lab manual and began writing rapidly. “These living substances can only be observed in plants and animal flesh. While similar tiny particles also appear in minerals, they don’t seem to be active. Although they are arranged in neat, orderly patterns under the lens, they don’t move at all…”

“Excellent. Your observations and summary are very accurate.” Harvey clapped his hands softly, then slowly added, “The microscopic substances beneath the so-called basic elements are what you are seeing. I prefer to call them microorganisms… They are nearly everywhere, not just in objects rich in magical energy. Even if you took a drop of water from the river, you would see the same thing…”

“Common microorganisms are mostly the cause of food spoilage, wound infections, and various diseases… But they cannot withstand high temperatures and are easily killed. This is why I require everyone in the territory to drink boiled water and why I disapprove of the residents eating raw meat…”

Egnor scratched his head and thought for a moment, then asked with pleasant surprise, “My lord, did you get the inspiration for the entire hygiene and epidemic prevention manual you wrote for the infirmary from this? The surgical instruments, the gauze and dressings for staunching bleeding… even the work clothes the physicians usually wear must be boiled in water every day before use.”

Harvey nodded. “Of course. This can only handle common illnesses and injuries. If we encounter a more severe epidemic or some stubborn chronic diseases, high-temperature disinfection alone will not be enough.”

Chapter 214: Vaccine Development

Pointing to the microscope, Harvey gave his instructions with a grave expression. “You’ve seen for yourselves through this device that within the flesh of plants and creatures rich in magic, there exist living organisms that can devour one another.”

“From now on, I need you to conduct a large number of observational experiments to find the living microorganisms in these magical substances that have the strongest ability to consume and assimilate, but are completely harmless on their own… This will be a crucial basic material for the potion we’re developing next.”

Egnor asked, puzzled, “Developing a potion? My lord, what type of potion do you need me to concoct? If you just provide the formula and ingredients, I can generally meet your requirements without needing to observe these microorganisms.”

Harvey shook his head and explained, “Not those expensive magic potions. What I want is something that can be mass-produced and injected into ordinary people in advance to prevent diseases—a magic vaccine!”

Chris’s knowledge of potions was far inferior to Egnor’s, and he was even more bewildered now. “Prevention in advance? Does taking a potion before getting sick actually work? I’ve never heard of such a treatment method.”

“That’s right. You can use all the resources of the infirmary and the Laboratory for your research. If necessary, you can make requests to me, and I’ll find a way to get you any materials that are difficult to obtain.”

He paused, then patiently reminded them, “Remember, you must repeatedly experiment with the potion on animals, verifying the most suitable dosage and effects. You are absolutely forbidden from testing it on sick commoners until the development is complete!”

A week later, Harvey received a report on the experimental results from Egnor and Chris.

Through extensive round-the-clock observation, they, along with the alchemy apprentices and physicians, quickly found several types of magical microorganisms that could counter common diseases.

After repeated experiments involving drenching and injecting diseased animals, they basically proved that the microorganism preparation itself was safe and non-toxic. However, they couldn’t yet draw a definite conclusion about its efficacy—after all, diseased chickens, ducks, cattle, and sheep couldn’t be perfectly compared to humans.

This meant it was time to move on to the final stage: clinical trials.

Based on past medical records, Egnor selected several commoners who had been suffering from chronic, incurable diseases since before they arrived in the pioneer territories. Most of them had chronic conditions that Egnor couldn’t treat with his healing spells. They were chosen to receive the test potion after signing a consent form to participate in the clinical trial.

The healing spells of nature-type spellcasters and the divine healing spells of the Church’s Priests were not omnipotent. They were mostly effective against external injuries, but internal maladies like the Frost Plague and Bloodworm Disease were difficult to cure completely.

Harvey was very familiar with the incurable disease known as the Frost Plague. Rainer had once suffered from this malicious illness and nearly died in Harvey’s Laboratory before the soul transfer experiment could be performed.

Although it was called a ‘plague,’ the disease itself wasn’t contagious. It was a fatal illness, similar to lung cancer and tuberculosis, that was highly prevalent among the impoverished lower class, caused by exposure to cold and frost. The typical symptoms were intense pain, debilitating weakness, and recurrently coughing up blood.

Every winter in the cold northern regions of the southern kingdoms, a large number of commoners would contract this plague because they lacked warm clothing or shelter, or had to work outdoors in the freezing cold for long periods. After months of agonizing suffering, they would perish miserably on the roadside or in back alleys.

Bloodworm Disease, however, was even more common than the Frost Plague. It wasn’t just frequent in winter but was also highly infectious. Since the lower-class commoners generally paid little attention to hygiene, they would quickly contract Bloodworm Disease after drinking or coming into contact with contaminated water and food. They would suffer with swollen, fluid-filled bellies, and although it didn’t cause immediate death, their lifespans were drastically shortened. Few patients lived past the age of thirty.

During the recent population census of the territory, Harvey had discovered from the infirmary’s treatment records that there were dozens of commoners with the Frost Plague and Bloodworm Disease. He immediately had Egnor isolate the contagious patients and began to strictly enforce rules in the territory: no drinking unboiled water, no eating uncooked food, and regular disinfection and protection in livestock and poultry farming areas.

Furthermore, the human and animal waste that used to be discharged directly into the Icefield River was now collected through a pipe system into a specially designated, sealed underground compost pit, where it would be fermented before being used as fertilizer on the Farm.

But even with these hygiene campaigns, the number of Bloodworm Disease patients in the territory continued to increase, slowly but steadily. Every time Egnor held a session to alleviate their pain and temporarily reduce the ascites, he would be pushed to the brink of magical exhaustion. It was a thankless task that only treated the symptoms, not the root cause…

“My lord, the ten commoners with the most severe symptoms of Frost Plague and Bloodworm Disease have been selected to participate in this trial,” Egnor said, pointing to an entire box of magic vaccine potions that he and Chris had stayed up all night to prepare. He was full of confidence. “We’ve tested it repeatedly on animals and livestock infected with Bloodworm Disease. There are absolutely no safety issues…”

Chris cautiously added, “However, dissections have shown that it only kills the adult bloodworms inside their bodies. It can’t completely eliminate the eggs that are all over their intestines…”

Harvey was already very satisfied that they had achieved such results in such a short time. He comforted them, “Don’t worry. It’s only been a week. I’m confident that you’ll soon be able to improve it into a perfect magic vaccine, completely eradicating Bloodworm Disease and the Frost Plague from the territory.”

Ten weak, sick commoners were brought into a special cubicle in the infirmary. The potion was administered to each of them, half taken orally and half by injection. Then, they waited quietly for the magic-infused vaccine to take effect.

The first to show a clinical response were the Frost Plague patients. First, their high fever and pain subsided. Then, they vomited up large amounts of dark, foul-smelling, coagulated blood clots. About three hours later, the frequent coughing and expectoration had also mostly disappeared.

“It really works!” Egnor exclaimed, waving his hand excitedly. “Those black blood clots are the symptoms that appear in the lungs with Frost Plague. Once they’re expelled from the body, just a few more oral doses of the potion will be enough to completely heal and repair their ravaged lungs…”

As for the contagious Bloodworm Disease, the situation was much more complex. After taking the medicine, the patients suffered from vomiting and diarrhea, expelling large quantities of bloodworm eggs. After tossing and turning for an entire night, the swelling in their abdomens began to show signs of slowly receding. However, it was impossible to verify in such a short time whether it would relapse.

Harvey wasn’t disappointed at all. Instead, he smilingly handed them a list, adding more to their research work.

“Next, while you’re perfecting the Frost Plague potion and the Bloodworm Disease vaccine, you also need to work on developing more magical microorganism medicines…”

The two of them, completely bewildered, took the list and stared at it, their eyes wide.

Plague Vaccine…

Malaria Vaccine…

Smallpox Vaccine…

Frost Plague Specific Remedy (Enhanced)…

Bloodworm Disease Vaccine (Enhanced version with therapeutic effects)…

Chapter 215: RoboCop VS Bloodline Warrior

Having finished all the urgent work at hand, Harvey finally found the time to fulfill his promise and once again summoned Mr. Mind Devil from the other dimensions through a sacrificial ritual.

On his second visit to the pioneer territories, the high-ranking demon was noticeably less reserved. He no longer confined his activities to the vicinity of the castle and the Military Barracks but instead took the initiative to invite Harvey to tour the entire territory with him.

Given that Mr. Mind Devil had provided him with selfless aid several times, Harvey naturally could find no reason to refuse. And so, leading a group of personal guards composed of Bloodline Warriors, the large retinue began touring the various parts of the territory.

In the Market District, Harvey accepted a street snack purchased by a personal guard—a grilled wheat cake slathered thickly with cheese and honey on both sides—and handed it to Mr. Mind Devil.

“Mr. Mind Devil, I’m puzzled. Do you Devils also have a passion for ordinary human food? Heh heh, the alchemical body I prepared for you doesn’t have the ability to eat…”

Mr. Mind Devil took the snack from Harvey, held it in his hands, and gazed at it for a moment before handing it back. Only then did he explain with a light laugh, “Eat? No, we don’t need to physically ingest food. Our method of eating is naturally different from you humans. What we require is merely the Votive Power, laden with various emotions, that clings to the food…”

He paused, then took a cup of low-alcohol sweet wine made from wild fruits from a personal guard who had run over. “Although the Votive Power contained in this food is pitifully thin, the desires and emotions it holds are exceptionally diverse, like a box of unknown candies, each with a rich flavor…”

Harvey shook his head with a helpless smile. This way of eating was indeed very unique. But since a whole pile of food had been bought, it couldn’t be wasted. He turned and ordered his personal guards to distribute the snacks purchased from the Market District stalls.

A gluttonous young personal guard took the honey pastry from his lord with awe and trepidation, then grinned and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing vigorously. “Ugh… My lord, this… how come the honey and cheese in this pastry aren’t sweet at all? And the originally soft pastry tastes like a block of wax when I chew it…”

Mr. Mind Devil, who was walking beside them, swayed slightly and quickened his pace in a moment of awkwardness, making Harvey unable to resist rolling his eyes.

The group soon left the Market District and arrived at the newly built sports field in the Castle District.

It was already approaching evening. The spacious sports field was surrounded by a circle of stone, step-like spectator stands. A large number of residents, finished with their work, were lining up to register at the entrances and exits on all four sides of the field, gradually entering and taking their seats freely.

On the field in the center, two teams were gathered in their respective huddles. Some were doing stretching and warm-up exercises, while others were huddled together, heads down, discussing something. They were all wearing special leather armor and leather helmets, their chests dyed red and blue respectively to distinguish the teams.

“Is this the place you kept mentioning, where you invited me to watch that… rugby match?”

Harvey led Mr. Mind Devil to their seats in the VIP section of the stands reserved for the lord. An attendant immediately and considerately served him chilled fruit juice.

“That’s right. This sports field can currently accommodate five hundred spectators at once. After subsequent renovations and upgrades, it will eventually become a large stadium capable of holding two thousand civilians.”

Mr. Mind Devil nodded in understanding, then rubbed his hands together and sighed in anticipation, “Mmm… what dense Votive Power permeates the air around me. Excitement, anticipation, pride, desire, haha! There’s even someone on the field secretly fantasizing about confessing to his beloved girl after winning. How very interesting!”

Harvey shook his head with a somewhat helpless, wry smile. Fortunately, out of courtesy, this Mr. Devil had never actively perceived his various emotions. Otherwise, being in front of him would be no different from streaking naked.

Pierce hurried up to the stands and reported to Harvey that the preparations for the match were complete. Harvey nodded, stood up, and walked to the front. The people in the surrounding stands immediately noticed the lord’s presence and rose to their feet, waving and cheering in acknowledgment.

Harvey walked smilingly to an amplification device made from a sound-transmitting magic stone. “My residents! And the players on the field about to compete! Good evening. I declare the first Pioneer Territories Rugby Tournament officially open!”

The atmosphere in the sports field was instantly ignited, and the players on the field knelt on one knee, saluting in the direction of the stands where Harvey stood.

…

Yuliao and Max stood on the field, warming up and discussing tactics in low voices with the other nine colleagues from the Police Department.

“Chief, can we really beat that group of Bloodline Warriors? I heard they’re all transcendent beings who were granted great power by the lord. They can unleash terrifying flames and frost from their bodies at a moment’s notice…”

Yuliao feigned anger. “You spineless fool. They aren’t allowed to use their transcendent abilities in the match. It’s just a physical clash between us and them… Hmph, no matter how strong flesh and blood is, can it compare to our bodies of steel?”

The members selected for the Police Department’s “Iron Shield Squad” had all undergone alchemical prosthetic modifications. Almost every one of them possessed powerful and sturdy mechanical limbs. Any single mechanical police officer in the territory could easily subdue seven or eight troublemaking drunks.

Max chimed in with a reminder, “We definitely can’t match their speed, so once the match begins, try to get into close-quarters struggles with them. Don’t let them create distance. Remember the tactics we excel at from our training. Let’s show those arrogant guys from the army what we’re made of!”

A sharp whistle echoed across the entire field.

The Police Department’s “Iron Shield Squad,” their chests marked with a conspicuous blue shield emblem, had the kickoff. Yuliao took a deep breath, took a few running steps, and took flight, kicking the round leather ball high into the air, sending it straight towards his team’s forward line.

The leather ball hit the ground and bounced up. Max leaped high and caught it in his arms. After landing, he did a nimble roll to get back on his feet. He didn’t recklessly charge with the ball alone. Instead, he quickly glanced to the sides to see his teammates on the wings catching up before manipulating his powerful mechanical prosthetic leg. It carved a shallow groove in the ground as he pushed off, crashing directly into the opponents who were closing in to surround him.

The powerful impact sent the oncoming player tumbling, but more opponents were already lying in wait and swarmed him. They quickly pinned Max down and started to fight for the rugby ball in his hands.

The leather ball was thrown in an arc, landing in the hands of an “Iron Shield Squad” player on the flank. Unfortunately, he was immediately intercepted by a “Northern Realm Squad” soldier who had been waiting on the sideline. He struggled forward a few steps but was tackled to the ground before he could pass the ball again.

They had lost possession of the ball.

The whistle blew again. This time it was the “Northern Realm Squad’s” kickoff. The half-orc battalion commander, who had stolen the show several times in target shooting competitions, took the lead. He moved like an agile prairie wolf, weaving
through the opposition with speed. Soldiers on either side of him advanced in lockstep, providing cover and sending the “Iron Shield Squad” police officers who tried to block him flying.

As he neared the end line goal, he came face-to-face with Yuliao. The Probationary Superintendent swung his mechanical arms, grabbing for his shoulder in an attempt to hold him down and seize the ball.

The corner of the half-orc battalion commander’s mouth curled into a contemptuous smile. He actually slammed the rugby ball onto the ground, causing it to shoot through the gap between Yuliao’s legs. After it bounced back up, it flew precisely into the goal.

“Well I’ll be! They’ve even learned the nutmeg…” Harvey couldn’t help but laugh out loud. He stood up and clapped forcefully, which made Vaughn, who was celebrating his goal with a lap around the field, blush with excitement.

Harvey turned his head with a smile and asked Mr. Mind Devil, “What do you think? I wasn’t lying, was I? This match is really exciting!”

The high-ranking demon sat in his chair, shaking his head back and forth, and sighed in a blissful tone, “Indeed, indeed. Such surging emotions, such rich Votive Power. It’s simply too delicious!”

Chapter 216: “Magic” Motorcycle Test Drive

The thrilling and highly entertaining rugby match finally concluded with the victory of the “Northern Realm Squad,” composed of soldiers from the Territorial Army. They waved their hands triumphantly, celebrating with a lap around the field, enjoying the cheers and admiration from the crowd in the spectator stands like battlefield heroes.

Harvey beckoned Vaughn, the team captain, up to the stands and personally pinned a brass-colored star badge onto his leather armor’s shoulder, signifying a match victory. The half-orc captain was so moved he knelt on one knee and, in the manner of a Bloodline Warrior, touched his forehead to the back of Harvey’s outstretched hand.

Pierce and Astaren were huddled together, whispering as they discussed the match’s outcome.

“In terms of strength and endurance, the superhuman warriors with awakened talents are indeed no match for these players from the Police Department who have partial bodies of steel… After all, most of their modifications are on their limbs, which gives them a very practical and obvious advantage in the game.”

Pierce clicked his tongue and summarized, “But when it comes to coordination, they’re far inferior to these soldiers from the Northern Army squad. Theirs is a synergy honed on the battlefields of life and death, and they are far more skilled and advanced in their tactics.”

On the other side, Egnor and Chris were completely different. They barely even understood the rules of the game, but they were swept up in the passionate atmosphere, clapping and laughing heartily.

Chris leaned in and suggested to Harvey, “My lord, why not give all these players deep alchemical body modifications? If every one of them had four mechanical prosthetic legs as steady as a rock, plus six to eight mechanical tentacles to replace their hands, wouldn’t the game be even more intense and spectacular?”

Harvey couldn’t help but roll his eyes at this twisted idea and quickly changed the subject. “Is the first batch of Magic Motorcycles calibrated and ready? Is there any new progress on the research and development of the Magic vaccine and potions? How do you have time to come watch a game?”

Chris was immediately cowed by this three-part soul-crushing interrogation and retreated with an awkward smile.

Just before the harvest season arrived, Chris, under Harvey’s constant supervision, finally completed the formal calibration of the “Magic” Motorcycle, bringing this era-defining magical energy-powered vehicle into industrialized production.

The core component that originally generated power—the internal combustion engine—was replaced by a modified magical energy steam engine. It could be driven in two ways: by directly injecting liquid magical energy, or by using an energy-gathering array to channel compressed, gaseous magical energy.

As for the gearbox design, Harvey was completely clueless. He could only provide a simple verbal description, leaving Chris to craft a fine set of transmission gears to enhance and regulate the power transfer from the magical energy.

The frame was constructed entirely by the blast furnace steel mills in the territory’s Industrial Zone, cast separately in molds and then assembled. A small amount of Lizard Scale Ore—a magical mineral procured from the Esoteric Society—was mixed into the steel, greatly increasing its malleability and affinity for magical energy.

As for details like headlights, a dashboard, electrical components, and wiring, Harvey simply couldn’t be bothered. He went with the simplest possible approach. Even the braking system used the crudest form of foot-operated metal brake pads.

After all, hand-building a mass-production powered vehicle in this world with only manual labor and some alchemical techniques was already an incredibly difficult goal to achieve. Harvey couldn’t expect every single part to be perfect.

This also meant that, for now, only physically powerful Bloodline Warriors and police officers with mechanical prosthetics had the ability to control and drive the Magic Motorcycle. To travel at high speeds through the rugged and obstacle-strewn barren lands and mountain forests, a driver had to rely on superhuman vision and reflexes to perform emergency maneuvers, making up for the vehicle’s lack of a steering assist system.

Braking also required immense physical strength; one had to stomp on the brake pedal with enough force to work a miracle just to bring the speeding Magic Motorcycle to a stop.

Even so, during the prototype test drives, several Bloodline Warriors had crashed or flipped due to inexperience, ending up in the infirmary for several weeks before they recovered.

“Vroom… RUMBLE! RUMBLE! RUMBLE!”

The roar of the Magic Motorcycle’s engine thundered across the playing field, where a large crowd of Northern Army soldiers had gathered to watch. Their eyes were filled with longing as they stared at the row of brand-new, gleaming single-person vehicles, which radiated a metallic and mechanical aesthetic.

Wayne and Dav stood side by side, looking on with渴望 as their battalion commander, Vaughn, straddled a new Magic Motorcycle, his head bowed as he listened to the Lord’s repeated instructions—he was the first test driver for this production model.

Wayne muttered in a low voice, “Speeding through the mountain forests on one of these things is what it means to be a true knight. Those clumsy fools we saw on our way to Araye with the Lord, riding on the backs of horses and livestock, they can’t even compare to us…”

“Understood, My lord.”

“Mhm, mhm, I’ll keep a firm grip on the handlebars.”

“Right, right, press the brake pedal lightly when turning… Uh, how light is ‘lightly’?”

“No problem, just do a few laps. Oh, oh, I get it!”

Vaughn responded to Harvey’s theoretical guidance incoherently, but in truth, his entire focus was already on the metal beast between his legs. His hands gripped the handlebars tightly, constantly twisting the throttle, just waiting for Harvey’s command to release the brake and tear off.

Harvey took a few steps back and nodded at his test driver, signaling that he could begin the demonstration.

After an even louder roar, the Magic Motorcycle kicked up a massive cloud of dust and shot forward like an unbridled wild horse.

Vaughn felt a ringing in his ears, and the roaring wind and dust rushing at his face drowned out almost everything else. The vehicle’s frame shook violently beneath him, forcing him to use all his strength just to keep his balance and not get thrown off.

It was more than twice as fast as the prototype he had tested before…

Vaughn keenly sensed the subtle difference between the two. He couldn’t resist twisting the throttle again, causing the energy inscriptions carved on the magical energy engine at the front to flare with intense light, pushing the speed to its absolute limit!

In what felt like an instant, he had blazed from one end of the Military Barracks’ playing field to the other. After slowing to circle a flagpole, he once again cut through the wind, heading back toward Harvey.

He stomped down hard on the brake pedal. With a loud screech, the front of the Magic Motorcycle jerked to a halt, and its rear end lifted, nearly flipping the vehicle over. Relying on his formidable strength to hold the frame down, Vaughn finally managed to bring it to a stop.

Although Harvey wore a smile and continuously praised and affirmed Vaughn’s driving skills, deep down he couldn’t help but smile wryly. No shock absorbers, no electronic braking system, and certainly no steering assist… starting it was easy, but stopping was hard. If the driver hadn’t been a Bloodline Warrior with awakened superhuman abilities, anyone else would have likely crashed on the spot and been sent straight to the hospital.

He recalled learning to drive in his past life. The beat-up pickup truck that everyone despised would probably be considered on par with a Rolls-Royce in their eyes.

After all, in terms of industrialized manufacturing techniques and structural design, that old pickup was indeed far more advanced than this Magic Motorcycle.

While the current Magic Motorcycle’s power system was an arcane version, its feedback was far too sluggish. Paired with a pure steel frame that had no cushioning whatsoever, and steering and braking that relied entirely on brute force from his hands and feet, one could only imagine how it felt to drive.

But even so, when Vaughn got off the motorcycle after the test drive, his face was lit up with a grin so wide it looked like it might split. He kept rubbing his hands and scratching his head, his eyes never leaving the vehicle for a second, his satisfaction plain to see.

Harvey sighed helplessly and turned to the others who were waiting with eager eyes. “Who else wants to give it a try?”

“Me! My lord! Let me try!”

“I can drive better than Battalion Commander Vaughn!”

“My lord! Let me go! I can ride it for a lap around the entire territory!”

In an instant, he was surrounded by a pack of territorial officers who were as eager as wolves and tigers.

Chapter 217: The Ancient Ruins Deep Underground

Deep within the mountains of Raven Ridge’s northern slope, a colossal alchemical beast over thirty meters long and more than six meters in diameter let out a tremendous roar as its head emerged from a deep, dark tunnel.

This was the Magical Energy Tunnel Boring Machine, personally designed by Harvey—a large subterranean worker alchemical beast created from the soul transformation of a Giant Devouring Worm.

With each infusion of ten units of liquid magical energy, it could dig through three to five kilometers of solid mountain, depending on whether the area it passed through was composed of rock or soil.

Three engineers from the Territory Defense Army peeked their heads out of the cabin behind the machine’s head, then jumped down, drenched in sweat.

“Damn it, this underground monster gets incredibly hot once it’s running. Staying in the cabin inside its body is like being roasted from all sides in a steamer…”

The team leader took off his sweat-soaked uniform jacket while shouting for the other engineers to spray the tunnel boring machine with cold water to cool it down. “Notify the territory’s Energy Department! The northern slope’s underground base is almost out of liquid magical energy. Tell them to deliver another thirty units of energy canisters today!”

His assistant said cautiously, “Chief, I already sent a message to the Energy Department this morning when you left. There’s been no reply… Are you sure you want to press them again?”

The engineering team leader froze for a moment, then ground his teeth. “Playing dead again, are they? Ever since the Magic Motorcycle factory started production, those snobs have been prioritizing the factory for the already scarce liquid energy. This isn’t the first time they’ve given us the runaround and delayed things!”

But then he remembered that in the two months since the northern slope base had begun its exploration work, they had dug seven or eight different routes with virtually nothing to show for it.

They had found several veins of copper and iron, but all were buried too deep, making the difficulty and cost of mining too high for them to be worth developing. They had also stumbled upon a sapphire vein, but the ore experts from the Laboratory had judged the gems to be low-grade, with no potential for profit.

“We have less than ten units of liquid magical energy left, Chief… Are we still going to explore today?”

The team leader held an iron lunchbox as he bowed his head to carefully study the exploration map. He fell into deep thought, his eyes fixed on a blank area on the map, only about one and a half kilometers from the northern slope base’s cavern.

It was an area directly below the main excavation route. According to the Lord’s exploration requirements, they were supposed to avoid this path. After all, digging downward was far more difficult than digging horizontally, and there was a high risk of encountering geological faults, which could cause the tunnel boring machine to fall or get stuck in a deep fissure. The risk factor was simply too high.

But having personally operated this mechanical beast for the past two months, he had developed a certain rapport with it. It was, after all, a magic machine rumored to have been made from an ancient monster. Whenever it detected a potential mineral vein during an excavation, it would automatically adjust its course and rumble toward the area with the deposit.

And that blank area on the map, below the main route, was precisely where the machine tried to drill downward every time they passed it. The operators had to use all their strength to manipulate the magical energy output just to keep it moving horizontally.

“So there must be something good down there! Maybe a gold mine, or even… that miraculous mineral the Lord values most—a Magic Core!”

The team leader slammed his fist on the exploration map and made his decision. “Pour all the remaining energy into the tunnel boring machine. For our next exploration, we’ll follow it down below the main tunnel!”

…

When Harvey received the news and rushed to the northern slope’s underground base with his personal guard, it was already nearing midnight.

But the underground base had no natural light anyway, so the time of day hardly mattered.

The Defense Force engineering team responsible for operating the Magical Energy Tunnel Boring Machine had, during an unscheduled exploration earlier that day, discovered what appeared to be signs of human activity deeper in the earth… an ancient ruin!

“What’s your name? Tell me what you found today,” Harvey asked, looking at the engineering team leader, who was covered in dust and smelled of sweat.

“My… My Lord, my name is Pepp. I’m one of the three operators of the Magical Energy Tunnel Boring Machine and the leader of the third group in the northern slope’s exploration team…”

He wiped his face sheepishly and, with a trembling finger, pointed to the exploration map to explain to Harvey, “It wasn’t just me; the other two operators felt it too. Every time we passed this section of the main excavation tunnel, the machine would signal its intent to dig downward. So today, we decided to take the risk…”

This team leader named Pepp had been a stonemason in the past, so he was fairly skilled at identifying and distinguishing various types of rocks and minerals. After digging downward and reaching the area the machine had sensed, he had boldly opened the sealed cabin door to investigate.

To his surprise, he found that this area was also a subterranean cavern, surrounded by countless fissures of all sizes. A terrifying whistling sound echoed from them from time to time, indicating that even at a depth of nearly one hundred meters, there was air circulation.

After he equipped a helmet inlaid with a light-emitting magic stone and jumped down from the powered-off tunnel boring machine with his two team members, he was instantly stunned by the sight within the cavern.

Illuminated by his headlamp, hundreds of enormous stalagmites resembling crystal prisms rose from the ground. Each was seven to eight meters in diameter, forming what looked like a profound, shimmering, subterranean forest standing majestically before them.

An expression of ecstasy instantly appeared on Harvey’s face. He asked in a trembling voice, “Are you certain? The sight you saw… was a large number of crystalline stalagmite pillars? And they reflected a crystalline blue light under your light source?”

Pepp nodded and answered honestly, “I’m certain, My lord. But what’s even stranger is that we found many signs of artificial quarrying around these pillars… There were smooth, flat stone steps, stone discs carved with strange patterns, and even some fragmented stone sculptures. But they were so badly weathered and worn that we couldn’t tell what they were…”

He scratched his head and added with some embarrassment, “We tried to break off a piece of the crystal pillars to bring back for you, but they’re incredibly hard, like a single solid piece. Our shovels just sent sparks flying, and we could barely even leave a scratch on them…”

If it was indeed the same magical substance as the magic stone vein beneath the castle, then of course it couldn’t be broken or mined with ordinary tools. Only by using the Energy-devouring beetles to consume and convert it could the pure magical energy within be extracted.

Harvey turned to his personal guard and ordered, “Notify the Energy Department to urgently dispatch thirty units of liquid magical energy. I’m taking the tunnel boring machine to visit those underground ruins myself!”

Astaren was alarmed. “My lord, you can just send the Bloodline Warriors and these engineers down. The deep underground may hold many unknown dangers. I do not advise you to risk it personally!”

Harvey shook his head, decisively rejecting his chief advisor’s suggestion. He said in a low voice, “If it truly is an ancient ruin located within a magic stone vein, then as a Spellcaster, I must go see it for myself.”

The allure of ancient secrets buried in the river of time was simply too great.

Chapter 218: The Mystery

Harvey staggered out of the shield tunneling machine’s cabin, pulling off the filtration mask on his head. His face was pale and dehydrated from the high temperature.

This underground cavern was much larger than the natural one at the northern slope base. It wasn’t a typical circular cave but a long, narrow corridor-like space. The widest section was about a hundred meters in diameter, surrounded by steep, fissure-covered rock walls from which the sound of whining wind constantly echoed.

The ground was uneven. In the steeper areas, there were clearly man-made stone steps, leading down and into the distance.

“Pepp, based on your experience, how old would you say these carved steps are?” Harvey was no archaeology expert with a deep knowledge of history, so he could only trust the experienced stonemason in his engineering team.

Pepp came closer, holding up a light-emitting magic stone. He carefully examined the chisel and axe marks on the steps and even picked up some of the dust accumulated in the carvings to observe it carefully.

“My Lord, judging by the degree of weathering and wear, these steps, carved right out of the rock, have probably been here for several hundred years, perhaps even longer… After all, being underground protects them from wind, rain, ice, and snow. The air is also very dry, so the stone can be preserved for much longer.”

“I agree with the stonemason’s assessment,” Astaren interjected. “The closest human settlement to Raven Ridge—Jackdaw Town—was only established thirty years ago… And Grizzly Keep, under the management of Earl Fegan’s family, has a history of only eighty years. So it’s unlikely these ancient steps have anything to do with the humans of the southern kingdoms.”

“Could it be an ancient kingdom from the south? Was there a human nation near Raven Ridge back then?” Harvey was really not good at studying history. “I remember that St. Valen was founded less than a hundred years ago, right?”

Astaren sighed. “Over a hundred years ago, the Demons crossed the Spine of the Continent Mountains and launched a full-scale invasion of the human kingdoms. At that time, there were only the Seven Wizard Kingdoms and a few noble city-states that clung tightly to them. It was only after the Spellcasters allied with the Church that the Spine of the Continent Mountains was established as the border dividing the southern kingdoms from the Northern Barren Lands…”

Harvey patted his chief advisor’s shoulder. “Doesn’t matter if it was humans or Demons. Since there are signs of advanced intelligent life, it means there’s a good chance of finding the Magic Core we’ve been looking for. Let’s go. We’ll take a look first.”

The shield tunneling machine had made several trips, bringing down a large number of Bloodline Warriors and Defense Force soldiers. They split up in groups of two and three, quickly exploring the entire perimeter of the long cavern along the rock walls and planting magical torches embedded with light-emitting magic stones everywhere.

When Harvey, accompanied by Astaren and his personal guards, reached the crystal pillars, he couldn’t help but let out a gasp of admiration.

Compared to these enormous pillars, the crystal cavern under the castle was like the difference between a sapling and a towering tree. It would take seven or eight soldiers with their arms outstretched to encircle one. The tallest crystal pillar stretched from the ground straight to the ceiling, its height exceeding the range of the light-emitting magic stones. It was probably at least thirty meters high, equivalent to a modern ten-story building.

Astaren leaned close to Harvey’s ear and whispered, “My lord, have you noticed? The situation here is remarkably similar to the crystal cavern beneath our castle. The rock walls are also covered in ventilation cracks, and the space inside is very dry…”

Besides the signs of ancient man-made activity, everything else was indeed identical.

Harvey also noticed that although these huge crystal pillars were also in the common prismatic shape, their surfaces were not encased in milky-white stalactites like the crystal pillars under the castle. Instead, they stood here as pure crystal.

“Could it be that they weren’t originally pure crystal pillars, but were mined and polished into their current form?” Harvey felt there were too many questions. “The ancient people who were active underground—how did they get here, and what kind of technology did they use to mine these crystal ores?”

A personal guard immediately brought over an exquisite iron cage and took out the dozens of Energy-devouring beetles they had brought. The beetles struggled to move their legs, scurrying around like headless chickens for a few moments before immediately finding their direction. They then lined up like ants and began crawling towards the pillar in front of them.

Just as he thought, this was another magic stone vein, rich in magical energy!

Harvey’s eyes narrowed. He watched as the Energy-devouring beetles clinging to the pillar instantly transformed from their juvenile state to their mature form the moment their bodies and antennae touched the crystal surface. Within seconds, they burst with a brilliant fluorescent light. Then, skipping the physical traits of their reproductive stage, they quickly dimmed and fell from the pillar one after another, dying on the ground.

Astaren picked up one of the beetles to examine it. “They…” he said, astonished, “in just a few seconds, they absorbed enough magical energy to transform directly from their insect form into an ore state!”

The pure magical energy contained within these magic stone pillars was even more immense and concentrated than that of the high-grade magic stone vein under the castle…

“We might have actually… stumbled upon one of the… legendary Magic Cores mentioned in the ancient texts.”

That would mean that all the magic stone veins, large and small, in the vicinity of the Raven Ridge mountain range, which spans the southern kingdoms and the Northern Barren Lands, might originate from here!

One of the Bloodline Warrior personal guards took an iron shovel from an Engineer and walked up to a pillar. He took a deep breath, forcing the blood from his entire body to surge into his heart, instantly activating his awakened bloodline power—Great Strength.

He swung the shovel with all his might, striking the edge of the crystal pillar. With a loud “CLANG!” that echoed through the cavern, the shovel snapped in two. The tip went flying off somewhere, but only a shallow mark was left on the pillar’s edge.

A Bloodline Warrior with the Great Strength talent was no match for a physically strong Engineer. If even he couldn’t chip off a fragment from the pillar, it showed that the hardness of these crystal pillars was likely comparable to that of diamonds.

“It seems the only way to draw magical energy from them is to use these Energy-devouring beetles and their rapid transformation…” Harvey couldn’t imagine how the ancients who discovered this vein had extracted its energy. Could it be that they also happened to raise a large number of these magical beetles that fed on pure magical energy?

As he was thinking, he was suddenly pulled hard by the Bloodline Warrior beside him. Before Harvey could react, he was immediately hoisted onto the man’s shoulder, jostling as he sprinted towards the shield tunneling machine.

“W-what’s… go… going… on? P-put… me… down!”

The personal guard carrying him answered without the slightest gasp for breath as he ran, “My lord, the guards on watch just sent a warning from nearby. We must first move you into the metal cabin of the shield tunneling machine to ensure your safety. If necessary, we’ll need to send you out from underground…”

“A warning? What’s happening? Put me down first, and don’t you dare stuff me in that cabin!” Harvey braced himself against the cabin door of the machine and finally got his feet back on the ground. Just then, a non-commissioned officer from the Defense Force ran over, dropped to one knee before Harvey with a panicked expression.

“My Lord, a huge number of strange beetles are suddenly pouring out of the dense cracks in the rock walls! Their numbers are simply impossible to estimate… like a tidal wave of insects, and they’re heading straight for these crystal pillars!”

Harvey finally let out a sigh of relief and glared at the reckless personal guard who had carried him off. “Don’t panic! These beetles are no threat to people. You lot, get Mr. Astaren into the cabin for his safety, then completely shut down the shield tunneling machine’s magical energy power core. Otherwise, when those bugs get close, they’ll drain all the liquid magical energy stored in the power cell, and we’ll be trapped down here!”

Chapter 219: Magic Core and Energy Ranch

“Magic Core?” The Mind Devil, in a human-like posture, stroked its chin in thought. “So you humans have named the source of magical energy the ‘core.’ That’s quite a novel term…”

“So… are you saying the theories and research from ancient wizards about the source of magic aren’t actually accurate?” Harvey asked humbly. “Spellcasters can draw magic directly from the Magic Net, and magic stones are natural magic minerals formed when energy from the Magic Net space escapes into the real world. Isn’t that common knowledge accepted for thousands of years?”

“So you believe there must be some kind of core, a source, within the Magic Net space that generates magic, and that magic stone veins are formed in the same way?” Mr. Mind Devil chuckled, his tone somewhat teasing. “My race has existed in the Magic Net for an untold amount of time, but I have never heard any rumors of a source core…”

“When we were roaming the Magic Net space together, I asked you about those energy conduits that crisscross the entire network. They’re just like the blood vessels in a living creature from the real world. That’s why I thought at the source of these conduits, there must be something like a heart—an organ or vessel that continuously supplies energy to the entire Magic Net space…”

The Mind Devil clapped its hands and laughed heartily. “An excellent analogy, Mr. Kel’Thuzad. Your thinking and associative abilities are far more progressive and bold than most Spellcasters I’ve known in the past.”

But as Harvey listened patiently to Mr. Mind Devil’s detailed explanation, he realized that the theoretical knowledge he had learned in the past, and the understanding he took pride in as a Transmigrator, were actually limited in certain aspects.

There was no so-called source of magic, and the “Giant” that was the Magic Net space, with its body full of magical energy “blood vessels,” didn’t have a core organ like a heart.

Even the Mind Devil race, which had lived in the Magic Net space for ages, couldn’t figure out the origin or destination of these energy conduits. They simply stretched across the Magic Net, unchanged for millions of years.

“However, I have speculated that the Magic Spirits living in the energy conduits might have a peculiar symbiotic relationship with the conduits themselves. And the magic stone vein you discovered deep beneath the mountain, along with those strange Energy-devouring beetles, probably share a similar connection…”

The Mind Devil muttered thoughtfully, “Besides, there’s no research to prove that a Magic Core can’t be a living being, is there?”

…

Astaren placed a sealed canister of liquid magical energy in front of Harvey, his voice filled with pleasure. “My lord, it’s just as you predicted! After we used the modified Blood-Awakening Instrument to convert the energy form of the beetle ore captured from the underground caverns, we managed to obtain a higher concentration of liquid magical energy!”

The fact that Energy-devouring beetles could produce pure magical energy of varying concentrations within their bodies based on the quality and purity of the magic stone vein they absorbed from was a guess Harvey had made after Mr. Mind Devil’s hint. He hadn’t expected it to be proven so quickly.

“It seems that while we didn’t find the so-called Magic Core, we’ve unexpectedly acquired a large number of magic stone vein crystal pillars, along with the massive swarm of beetles that live near them… The shortage of liquid magical energy can finally be completely alleviated!”

Relying solely on the small vein beneath Harvey’s castle and the small, artificially bred colony of Energy-devouring beetles had made it very difficult to maintain the supply for Magical Energy Gun ammunition and Magic Motorcycle fuel. Harvey also had to set aside a portion of the liquid magical energy production to power the shield tunneling machine, which stretched their resources even thinner.

“Can you estimate how many Energy-devouring beetles are living in the underground vein?”

Astaren shook his head, annoyed. “There are simply too many. Every three days, they surge out from the mountain fissures like a tide, clinging to the magic stone crystal pillars to draw energy. Some mature ones enter their reproductive phase immediately after absorbing enough magic, laying their eggs before dying… The soldiers from the Engineer Corps have to send people down immediately to collect the beetle ore. Otherwise, if more than twelve hours pass, the ore will weather away and dissolve, only to be reabsorbed and assimilated by the crystal pillars…”

So that’s how it is. The transformative and fluid nature of magic’s three forms was now abundantly clear…

The beetle ore and regular magic stones represented its solid form; the liquid magical energy extracted from Magic Spirits and Spirit-Fusing Ore was another form; and the magical energy drawn by Spellcasters from the Magic Net space through meditation was a phantom-like, gaseous form.

The states of these three forms were constantly changing and flowing into one another—this was the true nature of magic!

At this thought, Harvey snapped out of his contemplation and joked with Astaren with a smile, “You know, I think this vein we’ve found underground might become the territory’s most important source of energy. We need to quickly master the swarm’s activity patterns and manage our ‘Energy Ranch’ just as a shepherd tends to his flock…”

…

After Astaren left, Harvey returned to his desk and picked up the ancient historical document he had transcribed from the Magic Net Forum’s encyclopedia.

He casually pulled over a blank sheet of paper and began to sketch a simple regional map. He drew a thick horizontal line to represent the Spine of the Continent Mountains that stretched across the middle of the continent. Then he drew a circle to represent the pioneer territories to the north and a rhombus for the magic stone vein deep beneath the mountains of Jackdaw Territory.

Next, he followed the line of the Spine of the Continent Mountains to its western end and drew a triangle—this represented the Evil Moon Mountain Range’s magic stone Mining Area, recently discovered by the Federation and the wizard kingdom.

“Why is it that the Evil Moon Mining Area has already entered the excavation phase, yet there’s been no news of any Energy-devouring beetles coexisting with the magic stones?”

“Could it be that these beetles can only survive north of the Spine of the Continent Mountains? Then what prevents them from breeding and multiplying in the south? The wizard kingdom and the Federation in the south control several magic stone veins of various sizes, don’t they? The largest mining area is still in the kingdom of the Burrowing Dwarves at the Breath of the Hills, and there are no signs of beetle activity there either…”

The patterns on the stone disk that the engineers had made rubbings of from the underground ruins were so ancient that the markings had faded to the point of being almost completely indecipherable. Even the “living fossil” Astaren had trouble identifying the true origin of the twisted patterns.

But after a thorough search of the underground ruins, apart from the fields of magic stone crystal pillars, the weathered and worn stone steps and disks, and the shattered stone carvings, nothing else of value was found.

There were no ancient murals or paleontological remains, not even the tools used to mine the magic stones or carve the stone. It was a situation Harvey found utterly baffling.

It was as if these ancient, mysterious people had appeared out of thin air in the magic stone mines hundreds of meters underground, tinkered with something in silence, and then vanished completely, as if they had evaporated.

Even if they had arrived via some ancient teleportation array, there should have been traces of the ritual array left behind. Besides, who would have been the first to arrive and draw the teleportation array? It was an unsolvable paradox and a persistent question.

“Could it be that in ancient times, there existed transcendent beings even more mysterious than wizards, who could use some secret art to pass directly through the thick mountains and reach the unknown depths of the earth?”

Chapter 220: Commissioned Assassination

In the Evil Moon Mountain Range, at the forefront of the Oland wizard kingdom’s border, lay the war fortress of Blackstone City.

After nightfall, a man in a black, double-breasted formal suit walked through the bustling streets of the tavern district and pushed open the door to a private club.

“Mr. Wiley! Good evening!”

“Matthews, you’re finally here!”

The main hall on the club’s first floor was sparsely populated, but the few people scattered on the sofas all greeted the man as he entered.

Matthews Wiley tipped his black top hat with a finger, nodding to the crowd before hurrying up to the second floor.

Two people were already waiting for him in a private room on the second floor.

“Did you also receive Duncan’s Spell Messenger? Can you confirm if the letter is authentic?” Matthews asked impatiently, the moment he sat down.

The two men in the room exchanged a glance before replying with certainty, “Even if your location was compromised, there’s no way the enemy would know ours. You were the sole contact for all of Duncan’s affairs…”

Matthews nodded in agreement, unable to hold back a long sigh. “By the Arcane! We all thought he had met an unfortunate end, but as it turns out… Where has he been hiding for the past six years? And what exactly happened during that conflict back then?”

The letter delivered by the Spell Messenger had been brief, simply stating his identity. This high-level caster, once a close comrade-in-arms to Matthews and the other two, had directly asked for their help—to investigate a high-rank priest of the Radiant Church currently in Blackstone City, Tyrion White.

If necessary, it would be best to secretly eliminate him after getting clues about the truth behind that old unsolved case.

In return, Duncan offered a price that greatly interested all three of them: an ancient secret art passed down through his family—a creative, eighth-circle high-rank spell from a Legendary Caster.

“Until we find out what’s happened to Duncan all these years, I don’t recommend we agree to his request just like that…” Matthews mused for a moment, making a cautious judgment.

“That’s right. Although Tyrion White has always been on our kill list, we have to be wary of this being a vicious trap, one designed to wipe us all out in one fell swoop.”

The three men in the room, including Matthews Wiley, were all members of the battle mage corps permanently stationed at the Evil Moon Mountain Range front. The only difference was that Matthews was a native of the wizard kingdom of Oland, while his two companions were Spellcasters from the Federation.

Just as the Radiant Church had the Divine Punishment Faction, which was hostile aainst mages, the magical world also had radical groups that despised the Church. They often operated as small, secret societies, striking at the Church from the shadows. It could be said that beneath the less-than-a-century-old peace treaty between Spellcasters and the Church, the undercurrents of conflict and bloody clashes had never for a moment ceased.

“Then let’s not act rashly. We’ll find a way to test the Church’s side first. Their reaction will make it clear whether there’s a problem… Eric, get your moles inside the Church in Blackstone City moving.”

The small group of three was clearly led by Matthews Wiley, and the other two listened quietly to his arrangements and plans. “I’ll find other special channels to try and find out about Duncan’s situation. At the same time, I’ll contact Spellcasters from other secret societies to provide support for our operation…”

…

There were not many high-level battle mages permanently stationed in Blackstone City. Unlike the Federation Spellcasters who served on a rotational basis, most of them owned their own residences in the city’s mage district, often equipped with laboratories convenient for spell research.

Upon returning to his residence, Matthews Wiley first cautiously checked if the warning spells he had left in his laboratory had been manually triggered. Then, he added another warding spell to envelop the entire laboratory, preventing any ill-intentioned individuals from secretly spying on his next actions.

He carefully lifted an exquisite brass device from a safe sealed with a magical contract and placed it on the desk in the laboratory. With practiced ease, he took out a magic stone and fitted it into a slot on the side of the device.

The miniature magic array at the base of the device activated instantly. Matthews skillfully typed on the keys, entering his anonymous handle.

[Stormwalker: Mr. Son of Flame, have you arrived in Blackstone City? When can we meet?]

After waiting patiently for about half an hour, the handle for Son of Flame on the Forum finally began to glow with a silver light, indicating that the other party was now online and had received Matthews’ private message.

[Son of Flame: Mr. Stormwalker, you’re not going to spread the news of my arrival in Blackstone City for everyone to know, are you? Shit! The last thing I want is to be ruthlessly mocked by my old battle mage colleagues the moment I step foot in the city!]

The two had already privately exchanged codes after the recent operation to attack the Church’s witch hunters and had revealed their real-world identities. It turned out they were former mage comrades who had briefly worked together—it could only be described as fate.

Fell Hoden, the Son of Flame, was coming to Blackstone City this time because he had been implicated after helping Harvey deal with attackers from within the Federation. Unable to clear his name completely, he was forced to serve a short-term sentence here as punishment.

Although the pro-Church faction in the combat department was at fault first in that internal conflict, Fell had shown no mercy, decisively killing his nominal colleague on the spot. In the ensuing arguments and buck-passing among the various parties, his actions were difficult to absolve.

However, this elemental hothead—who held the title of the Federation’s chief disciple but was in reality a lone wolf long-since semi-expelled by his master—cared little for the verbal sparring of these magic politicians. He adopted a completely shameless attitude, admitting guilt and accepting punishment without a fight. This forced Chief Salas to personally intervene to smooth things over, arranging a short-term service on the demon battlefield as a lenient form of punishment for him.

[Stormwalker: Do you remember the cold case that happened six years ago in the Andis River Valley?]

Fell was sitting in a carriage with the Magic Brain device on his lap. He felt a wave of confusion upon seeing this out-of-the-blue message.

[Son of Flame: Of course. Why are you suddenly asking about this? I wasn’t there at the time, and I only heard about it afterward.]

That operation, jointly led by the Federation and the wizard kingdom alliance to explore ancient ruins near the Andis River Valley, had ended with the exploration team being suddenly ambushed on their way back.

Because the team was composed mostly of research-type Spellcasters and the operation was classified within the Federation, they hadn’t brought many combat squires or Bloodline Warriors. They were completely outnumbered by their attackers and ultimately faced near-total annihilation. Only a few Mage apprentices and Spellcaster students who had been sent back midway were lucky enough to escape.

Although most Spellcasters believed it was just another targeted attack by the Church’s Divine Punishment Faction, the investigation revealed that while the attackers used many of the Church’s standard methods, there were also traces of spell attacks from Spellcasters… But it was clear that even wizard families sympathetic to the Church would not go so far as to completely betray their own and cooperate in attacking fellow Spellcasters.

After years of endless debate and drawn-out, perfunctory follow-up investigations, the incident was eventually classified as a private feud between certain wizard families and gradually became a well-known but ignored cold case.

[Stormwalker: A survivor of that incident, a dear friend we all thought had perished, has suddenly turned up alive and contacted us… Do you want to know the truth behind what happened? We need your help!]

[Son of Flame: What help? I’m not one of those hounds kept on a leash by the Federation. I can’t help you crack a cold case from years ago. Besides, what’s in it for me?]

[Stormwalker: Let me put it another way… Are you interested in joining us to sneak into the home of a Church priest with a disgusting penchant for young boys, and teaching that sanctimonious hypocrite a lesson? And while we’re at it, investigate any inside information related to his involvement in the case back then?]

[Son of Flame: Those hypocritical bastards from the Church. Fine! I’m in. But how do you need me to cooperate?]

Seeing the message on the crystal screen, Matthews Wiley’s lips curled into a slight smile as he quickly typed a reply.

[Stormwalker: We’ll talk when we meet!]

Chapter 221: Supernatural Shadow War (End of Volume)

Not long after the sun had set, the curfew bells in Blackstone City began to ring out one after another.

This was a nightly injunction aimed solely at the common folk living in the city; it held no sway over the large number of Spellcasters and the Church’s Judgment Army who also resided there. As the Demon offensive weakened, even ordinary noble merchants doing business in the city could move about freely after curfew with purchased passes.

The Radiant Church’s main footholds in Blackstone City were the parish where the Blackstone Cathedral stood and the Holy See’s Military Barracks where the Army of Judgment was stationed. These two areas were conveniently separated from the Spellcaster-inhabited Mage District by a central avenue, and on the surface, they stayed out of each other’s way.

In addition, the Church had established several smaller chapels in the Market District, which was lined with taverns and shops; the administrative district, which housed the allied forces’ headquarters; and the Lower Street and City Gate areas, where the commoners lived. These served the city’s vast population of faithful for daily prayers and weekly services.

High-rank Priest Tyrion White served as the head priest of the Lower Street chapel, responsible for leading the area’s clerics and acolytes in proclaiming the faith and glory of the God of Glory to the masses.

It was an enviably lucrative post. If not for Tyrion being a trusted confidant of Bishop Franklin of the Blackstone Cathedral, he never would have gotten his hands on the commoners’ residential area, which had the largest number of believers in the city. Moreover, he didn’t have to leave the city to assist the Army of Judgment in their bloody, round-the-clock battles against the Demons. It could truly be called a cozy nest, perfect for a comfortable retirement.

Tyrion was, after all, a man approaching his sixties. As a ceremonial priest, he was not as skilled in offensive divine arts as the battle priests of the Holy See, and ordinarily would not have been qualified for a high-rank position. It was only through decades of being extremely adept at social climbing and scheming that he had successfully latched onto a great tree like Bishop Franklin.

“My lord Tyrion, the children sent by Baron Potter have been delivered to the Archbishop as you requested…” an acolyte leaned in close, reporting softly with a bowed waist.

Tyrion nodded in satisfaction. The fair-skinned, handsome ones among this batch had been personally selected by him; they were certain to please Bishop Franklin.

“To be able to personally meet His Grace the Archbishop, to hear his teachings and holy prayers, is these children’s honor… May the light of my Lord shine upon them forever.”

The acolyte pressed his hands to his chest in a salute, then added in a low voice, “That child named Lodi has already been sent to your private villa ahead of time…” With that, he bowed and took several steps back before turning to leave the study.

A barely perceptible smile touched the corners of Tyrion’s lips. He rose from the soft sofa and poured himself a glass of wine, as clear and pure as a ruby. This was the “Holy Blood Wine,” supplied exclusively to the Blackstone City parish by the Church’s own wineries. Ordinary clerics and soldiers of the Judgment Army were not entitled to enjoy it freely, but a head priest of Tyrion’s rank was, of course, not among them.

Aside from periodically reporting to His Grace the Bishop at the Blackstone Cathedral, he rarely left the parish under his charge. This was partly because he had no combat assignments and partly because he was content with his life of pleasure.

As long as the Holy See continued to rival the Federation in Blackstone City, his church would never lack for nobles and wealthy merchants knocking on his door. For those who wished to manage their own enterprises and influence within the Evil Moon Mountain Range and Blackstone City, seeking help from the Church was far more convenient than dealing with that group of wizards who were ignorant of worldly affairs.

…

Tyrion White was not an ascetic battle priest, so he did not typically reside in the chapel. Instead, he owned a comfortable, separate residence nearby. However, when he occasionally wanted to relax and indulge, he still preferred to go to another private villa far from the church.

It seemed that by distancing himself from the church, he could escape the watchful gaze of the god he worshipped, slightly alleviating the guilt and shame his indulgence of desire brought him.

In the carriage on the way from the chapel to the villa, his personal acolyte attendant took the opportunity to ask in a low voice, “My lord, regarding Baron Potter’s fiefdom… How should we handle it and respond?”

Tyrion leaned back against the seat in the carriage, squinting his eyes as he considered the matter. He recalled the valuable offerings Baron Potter had sent over this period and paused for a moment before speaking. “The Baron’s temporary tax increase due to a poor harvest is not something we should have intervened in… However, since believers are involved, we… have no choice but to reluctantly step in and help him out.”

These low-ranking nobles with their modest fiefs and fortunes were always so short-sighted and greedy, constantly fixated on the meager profits from their own little corner of the world. The slightest loss would have them trying to make it up from elsewhere.

The snowstorms in the western territories last winter had delayed spring planting, causing most of the minor nobles’ lands to face poor harvests and tenants to default on their rent. Yet, it was precisely at such times that the noble lords would impose temporary tax increases to compensate for the production losses on their private lands.

It would have been one thing if it were just a mob of commoners causing trouble, but several small landowners from Baron Potter’s fief, all former knights, were leading the tax resistance. For a time, public outrage swelled, and the situation seemed on the verge of spiraling out of control.

“Send a Squad of Judgment Army knights over. Have them speak privately with those few pious knights of my Lord. Coordinate with the local Priest and clerics to mediate. Don’t let them be swept up by the commoners into open confrontation with the nobility… If necessary, you may use some… extraordinary means.”

The conversation ended as they quickly arrived at the private villa in the Lower Street district. The young acolyte very discreetly returned to his own room, not wanting to disturb the head priest’s private relaxation time.

After bathing and changing with the help of a servant, Tyrion went to the luxurious master suite on the second floor. Pushing open the door, he saw a boy standing by the living room sofa, dressed in pure white archpriest’s robes with a hemp rope tied around his waist, signifying the status of an ascetic. The boy looked up timidly at the head priest who had just entered.

The boy had slightly curly, pure black hair and a fair, handsome face. The priest’s robe he wore was clearly ill-fitting, a little too large for him.

Tyrion narrowed his eyes. After sitting down on the sofa, he asked in a gentle voice, “Child, how old are you this year?”

The boy answered shyly, “Your Grace, I… I just turned thirteen.”

“Hehe, children develop so quickly these days, growing so tall at such a young age…” the head priest chuckled, then beckoned to the boy. “Come here, sit at my feet… and chat with me.”

A flicker of imperceptible disgust crossed the boy’s eyes, but he still did as he was told. He walked over to Tyrion and sat cross-legged on the carpet in front of the sofa, forcing himself to endure the man’s hand—as withered as a chicken’s claw—as it slowly stroked his thick, curly hair.

“Child, where is your home? Which cleric baptized you?”

The boy’s voice was clear, though tinged with confusion. “Your Grace… I, I have not been baptized. My parents are not believers, either. We… we didn’t live in the parish before.”

The old head priest’s hand paused, slowly lifting from the boy’s head. A soft, almost inaudible chuckle seemed to escape his throat, tinged with a hint of excitement. “Is that so? You and your family have never been bathed in the light of my Lord? Tsk, tsk, what a terrible pity…”

He stood up and took two items from the living room bookshelf. Turning back to the boy sitting on the carpet, he said, “In that case, I shall be the one to complete the ritual of proselytization and baptism for you…”

Only then did the boy see that in one hand, he held a thick holy book of the Church, while in the other, he strangely held a wooden ruler.

“Recite the holy book with me and feel the glory and grace of my Lord. But be careful. If you mispronounce a single word, you will be punished with the ruler… Understand?”

With that, he stepped forward and pressed the long ruler against the hemp rope at the boy’s waist. He chuckled softly. “Now, you need to remove your robe and bare your body, to be completely honest before my Lord. Do not resist in the slightest.”

The boy’s lip twitched. He scrambled to his feet and backed away, shaking his head like a rattle drum.

The gentle demeanor Tyrion had maintained instantly vanished. With a cold face, he said in a low voice, “Be a good boy and listen. Don’t make me use force. If you aren’t willing to obey, I’ll send you to the basement later. Hmph, you’ll suffer much more then.”

As Tyrion spoke, he loosened the belt of his own robe, revealing a withered, aged body as he slowly advanced on the boy cowering in the corner.

Suddenly, he heard a rhythmic, soft knocking at the living room door, immediately interrupting the pressurizing game that had excited him so much. He couldn’t help but frown and shout angrily, “Who is it? Didn’t I give orders not to be disturbed?”

A servant’s voice came from outside. “My lord Tyrion, I’ve brought the Holy Blood Wine and hot tea to help you sleep…”

The head priest hastily tied the belt of his robe and walked to the door, muttering, “I don’t recall asking you to bring me wine…”

He turned the handle and opened the door, only to find a strange man’s face. He wasn’t dressed as a servant, nor was he carrying any wine. Instead, he was holding a gleaming, crystalline gem that instantly captured Tyrion’s entire attention.

A Soul Siphon Stone… No! The thought was the only one that managed to flash through Tyrion’s mind before he immediately fell into a dazed stupor. He staggered back two steps and fell to the floor with a thud, watching helplessly as the strange man slipped into the room and gently closed the door behind him.

The man ignored the collapsed head priest and didn’t even spare a glance for the boy cowering in the corner. Instead, he first strode to the window and pushed it open. A sudden gust of wind swept a figure into the room.

Only then did the man holding the Soul Siphon Stone slowly walk over to Tyrion and crouch down. He held the gem before Tyrion’s eyes and said with a faint smile, “Good evening, Lord Tyrion. We apologize for intruding on your nightly missionary activities.”

Tyrion struggled to focus his mind but found his body growing cold and rigid. It felt as if a block of ice had been shoved down his throat, making it extremely difficult to even speak.

“You… you are Spellcasters? Why… attack me? Was it… the Federation’s… orders?”

The other black-robed man who had burst in with the wind scoffed, “The Federation? Spellcasters? No, no, no. The Church will find no traces of a Spellcaster attack in your room. After having your soul scoured by the Soul Siphon Stone, you’ll just become an idiotic old man who can’t even control his own bowels. You might even choke to death on your own vomit before anyone finds you at dawn…”

A look of panic flashed in Tyrion’s eyes. He once again squeezed furious words from his throat. “Damn… you damnable, evil wizards! How dare you… openly attack a high-rank… a high-rank Priest of the Church in Blackstone City, and use a Soul Siphon Stone… which even the Federation has banned. This… this is blasphemy!”

The man crouching beside him pursed his lips. He pressed two fingers to his glabella and began to quickly and silently chant an incantation. As he stared into Tyrion’s eyes, his pupils rapidly transformed into a spinning vortex.

Tyrion convulsed violently, his eyes rolling back as white foam began to uncontrollably emerge from his mouth and nose. At this moment of life and death, he finally managed to command his stiff fingers, forcefully pressing a tiny spike on his ring and piercing the rough skin of his fingertip.

A brilliant white light shot out from the ring, striking the mysterious man who was almost face-to-face with him. With a hum, the ethereal shield that had instantly materialized around the man shattered on impact, forcing him to abort the spell and retreat several steps.

The light in the room was dim. The darkness in the corner by the door suddenly began to writhe as if it were alive.

The mysterious man standing by the window waved his hand, sending a wind blade flying toward that dark corner. Yet, the wind blade vanished without a sound, as if a clay ox plunging into the sea, and instead spurred the darkness to spread rapidly.

A figure suddenly emerged from the writhing, spreading darkness, as if it had separated directly from the shadows themselves, materializing without any warning.

The figure bent low and lunged forward, leaving an afterimage in its wake. In its hand was a sharp, silver-gleaming shortsword, which it thrust viciously at the throat of the black-clothed man beside Tyrion!

At a terrifying speed, he crossed the distance of less than five meters in an instant, closing in on the attacker. The shortsword, thrust with one hand, struck his opponent’s larynx without the slightest deviation.

The figure felt no sensation of the blade piercing skin, nor did he see the expected gush of blood. Instead, he detected a sudden, sluggish fluctuation of magical energy.

The man struck by the shortsword instantly shattered like a glass mirror, breaking into several pieces with a clatter.

Mid-rank Arcane Magic: “Mirror Image Defense”!

Two more wind blades shot straight at the figure in the darkness, forcing him to roll and dodge. He was compelled to leave the deep shadows behind him, revealing his true form and appearance. It was none other than the young acolyte who attended Tyrion.

“To think that a high-rank knight of the Judgment Army who has awakened a Dark bloodline is always lurking beside a mere chapel head priest who isn’t even a battle priest… Hehe, this is most interesting!”

The man who had shattered like a mirror and then reappeared in a corner of the room scoffed aloud.

Matthews, standing by the window, remained silent. He continuously manipulated the wind blades in his hand to strike at the target, gradually compressing his space to dodge until he was slowly forced back into the corner.

The young acolyte frowned slightly. He flung out three identical short blades from his waist, quickly extinguishing the few candles and lamps in the room. His body rapidly blurred and faded, attempting to merge back into the darkness.

Matthews’s mind raced. He stopped manipulating the wind blades, clasped his hands together, and pushed forward. An icy, bone-chilling gust of wind swept through the entire room.

Mid-rank Elemental Magic: “Breath of Extreme Cold.”

The young acolyte’s figure, which had just faded into the darkness, instantly staggered and reappeared. The gust of wind buffeted his stiffening body, making his movements as slow as if he were mired in a swamp.

He couldn’t get close to these Spellcasters, which meant he couldn’t use the most powerful ability of his Dark bloodline, “Annihilation.” It seemed he would have to abandon Head Priest Tyrion and find a way to escape the pincer attack of two high-level casters alone, then rush to the Blackstone Cathedral to warn His Grace the Archbishop.

He struggled to maintain his dark form, raising a hand to crush a radiant amulet hanging around his neck. A gentle, sacred light descended from above, completely enveloping him and temporarily restoring sensation to his body.

But the holy light also repelled his Dark bloodline, and an intense burning sensation spread across his skin. Enduring the pain, he rolled repeatedly toward the window. The chance of escape was right before his eyes.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his waist. He turned his head in shock. The young boy who had been slumped unconscious against the wall by the window was now suddenly awake, a vicious grin on his face as he plunged a gleaming dagger into his side. As their eyes met at close range, he even gave it a cruel twist.

The young acolyte could no longer hold back a wretched scream. He dropped the shortsword in his hand and pressed both palms with great difficulty toward the boy’s neck. He was going to use his “Annihilation” bloodline talent and take this despicable backstabber down with him.

But before he could make physical contact, the boy’s hands, which held the dagger pressed into his waist, suddenly erupted in a blindingly brilliant flash of electricity.

Silvery-white electricity burst forth, and arcs of what seemed like tangible plasma coursed over his body. Before he could utter a final scream, his entire body exploded. Charred, desiccated chunks of flesh burst apart and littered the floor, without a single drop of blood being splattered.

The plasma didn’t seem to stop there. Having lost a vessel of flesh and blood, it rapidly spread throughout the room, turning the luxuriously decorated bedroom into a terrifying battlefield filled with electric currents and flashes of fire.

The two Spellcaster companions frantically cast spells, enveloping themselves in powerful defensive arts, but they couldn’t withstand the violent, area-of-effect lightning attack. Their bodies were charred black and their hair stood on end. They couldn’t help but start cursing aloud.

The young boy’s bones made a series of cracking sounds as his body warped, twisted, and expanded at an incredible speed, returning to his original tall and sturdy form.

It was the high-rank Elemental Mage, Fell Hoden!

He tugged at the ill-fitting archpriest’s robes and laughed somewhat awkwardly. “Damn it, first time using that spell. Didn’t quite control its power and range. My bad…”

The face of “Stormwalker” Matthews, now blackened by the blast, twitched. He hesitated to speak, then pulled a sheepskin scroll from his robes and tossed it to his companion who had initially disguised himself as a servant, telling him to quickly begin arranging the scene.

Fell Hoden grabbed the hemp rope belt on his robe, which had been snapped by his transformation, and pointed at the body of the high-rank Priest Tyrion White, who lay on the floor, already lifeless from the spell’s aftershock. He grumbled in dissatisfaction, “Can’t you find me some pants first? And I don’t get it. We could have just assassinated this guy directly. Why did I have to dress up, and in such a disgusting role…”

Matthews rolled his eyes in annoyance. “If not for this, how could we have baited out this dark knight lurking beside him? And if you hadn’t lost control of the spell’s power, we could have left Tyrion alive and forced the truth about Duncan’s case out of him! Now everything’s ruined!”

Fell Hoden gave an embarrassed chuckle and scratched his head as he watched Matthews’s companion use a sharp knife to pierce Tyrion White’s chest, dipping it in the still-warm blood to draw and paint on the wall.

“This is the plan you came up with to stage the scene? What’s the use of these demonic-looking scrawls?”

Matthews leaned close to Fell and said in a low voice, “Through Mr. Kel’Thuzad’s introduction, I obtained a diagram for a demon summoning ritual from Mr. Mind Hunter. We just need to arrange the scene a bit, and we can divert the Church’s investigation toward… the demon sacrifice incident they recently encountered in the Evil Moon Mining Area.”

Fell’s expression froze. He asked in disbelief, “What? How could Mr. Kel’Thuzad be involved with demon sacrifices? Is that Forum member named Mind Hunter actually a heretic who worships Devils?”

As the blood-drawn sigil was gradually completed, a thick stench of sulfur began to fill the air, mingled with a strange, wheezing sound. Something living seemed to be slowly squirming in the darkness, sending a chill down one’s spine.

The residual magical fluctuations from the various spells in the room quickly dissipated, leaving only the priest’s corpse with a blade in his chest and the charred, fragmented remains of the bloodline knight scattered across the floor…

End-of-Volume Summary and a Day Off

End-of-Volume Summary and a Day Off…

Unknowingly, as a new author, my first book has reached five hundred thousand words. I can hardly believe it myself.

August was the second month after the novel went premium, and it coincided with my day job’s busiest season of the year, the summer holidays. I’ve been on business trips almost every week, and overtime on workdays has become the norm.

As a result, I couldn’t maintain a stable three chapters a day and could only guarantee a minimum of two. On top of that, I could only calm down to write after getting home from work around nine or ten at night.

Once this busy month is over, I will return to three chapters a day and use my weekends to build up a stockpile of drafts.

I won’t go on about my hardships. In any case, dropping this novel is absolutely out of the question!

During the busiest few days, I tried writing using voice-to-text, but it was a complete failure. The plot in my head just couldn’t sync up with my words. I still have to sit down properly in front of the computer and type.

Then, a reader suggested I use AI to generate a world map. I did some research on it, but I found that I just can’t figure it out… I suppose I’m just too dense. However, if any of you are skilled with AI-generated maps, I can provide my own hand-drawn version. If you could actually create one, I would be incredibly grateful!

Starting from Volume Four, the plot will shift from the protagonist’s low-key development and base-building to him formally stepping onto the grand stage of world affairs. The two plotlines—the supernatural war in the real world and the Spellcaster Forum—will run in parallel.

The original outline will be adjusted. After all, some readers have mentioned that the common elements I wrote about before—like scientific experiments, faction building, and developmental gameplay—aren’t that appealing. They prefer to see the protagonist fighting monsters, leveling up, and engaging in exciting conflicts in the magical world.

As for the final presentation of the content, I still want to stick to my initial decision of focusing on an ensemble cast. I will do my best, step by step, to fully flesh out the story I’ve envisioned.

Chapter 222: Deep Cooperation

In the City of Magic, Araye, inside the joint meeting hall at the apex of the Celestial Domain’s floating tower.

Three Legendary Chiefs, who usually seldom involved themselves in the Federation’s internal affairs, were gathered around an archaic round table for the first time in ages.

This was a practice handed down since the Federation’s founding a century ago. When the Federation faced a momentous decision, the three chiefs were required to attend a joint meeting, summoning the heads of numerous departments—including the Department of Magical Affairs, the Battle Department, the External Affairs Department, and the Academic Review Department—to participate.

And regardless of the resolution, the First Chief, Kemer Salas, held the final veto power.

But today was different from the past. A delicate, brass-colored alchemical instrument was placed before each of the three chiefs. The Federation officials seated in the outer circle were completely bewildered, with no idea what was happening. Yet, no one dared to ask the chiefs, so they could only maintain their stiff, upright postures.

Fran Macaulay, “Spellshield,” sat in the section for members of the Department of Magical Affairs, secretly suppressing the joy bubbling up inside him. By position and rank, he was not originally qualified to represent the Department of Affairs at a joint meeting. However, Fran knew very well that the value and status boost had come from his Forum handle, “Spellshield.”

As one of the “old guard” from the second wave of members to join the Spellcaster Forum, aside from the initial members, Fran had unquestionably become a core member of the group representing the Federation’s interests on the Forum. That was why Lord Salas had personally designated him to attend this crucial joint meeting.

This was, in a very real sense, the Federation’s negotiation for deep cooperation, on a physical level, with the Spellcaster Forum and the ancient, mysterious existence behind it.

It was said that the three Lord Chiefs had already consulted privately with that “Observer Neumann” several times. The main objective of the cooperation was to obtain the standard-issue Anti-Demon magic artifacts they provided.

“Spellshield” immediately thought of his two distant relatives—the twin Quinn brothers. Upon learning he was qualified to participate in these cooperation talks, they had rushed to his door, begging him to try and secure some opportunities and benefits for the Esoteric Society in the details of the negotiations.

Those two, completely clueless about worldly affairs, had no understanding of political maneuvering. This so-called joint negotiation was merely a formality. The true intent of the cooperation and the details of the exchange of interests had likely already been settled privately between the three Lord Chiefs, Mr. Turing, and Mr. Neumann. There was no room for anyone else to interfere.

Fran then thought about how he had gotten to where he was today. It was all thanks to the rash invitation from the brothers Ofre and Ed that he had stumbled into becoming a member of the Spellcaster Forum. He really had to find a way to repay that favor…

Seated at the head of the round table, “The Scorching Sovereign” Kemer Salas’s half-closed eyes suddenly snapped open. He flexed his fingers and tapped the tabletop three times, neither too heavily nor too lightly. The hushed whispers in the meeting hall instantly ceased.

“I have gathered you all today to discuss the matter of a deep cooperation between the Federation and… Due to the partner organization’s confidentiality requirements, we will not be disclosing its specific information internally for now. You need only understand that they possess something we currently need most desperately.”

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room, before slowly continuing, “An extraordinary weapon that can free the Federation from the Church’s obstructions, break away from the constraints of the Seven Kingdoms Wizard’s Alliance, and give us the ability to independently resist the demonic invasion, completely turning the tide of secular public opinion!”

His words detonated in the meeting hall like a heavy alchemical bomb. The originally solemn and serious atmosphere instantly descended into chaos.

Amazement, suspicion, excitement, and disbelief intertwined on everyone’s faces.

Some tentatively cast pleading glances towards the other two chiefs, hoping to find a hint of confirmation in their expressions, only to discover with dismay that Lord Dawson was staring at the ceiling, avoiding eye contact, while Lord Gallagher had his eyes shut tight, looking as if he were a million miles away.

Gould, the director of the Battle Department clad in the black robes of a classical wizard, could finally bear it no longer. He shot to his feet, his expression agitated, and questioned, “Lord Chief, with all due respect, the Federation has many members who hail from the Seven Wizard Kingdoms, and of course, some members… hold faith in the Church. Does this mean you intend to push the Federation into complete opposition with all the powers of the south?”

“An extraordinary weapon that can allow the Federation to independently resist the demonic invasion? Heh, am I hearing things?” His wording was slightly discourteous, causing many spellcasters present to frown, but no one spoke up to reprimand him, because they too found the Lord Chief’s words utterly unbelievable.

Salas smiled faintly, a hint of some unknown meaning in it. He gently raised a hand to quiet the room and continued, “You are not hearing things. Next, I will show you the truth, and you can judge for yourselves the value this cooperation brings to the Federation…”

After another light tap on the table, the bizarre, pupil-less face of Tower Spirit Enzo suddenly materialized on the hall’s dome. It opened its mouth and spat out a crystalline Recording Stone, which slowly floated down to hover above the round table in the center of the hall.

The Recording Stone activated automatically, beginning to replay Chief Gallagher’s secret weapon experiment in Blackstone City, conducted on a Demon captive…

The playback of the experiment was not long. After seeing the Demon captive’s body instantly decay and disintegrate upon being struck by the strange magic artifact, the crowd could no longer contain themselves, their eyes widening as they shot to their feet.

“Annihilation? This magic artifact simulates the innate ability of the Dark bloodline?”

“No! This is more like Flesh Dissolution… but why does it also have the decaying effect of a curse?”

“By the Arcane! This is a magic artifact with a high-circle Curse permanently inscribed upon it! A Legendary magic artifact!”

Dawson let out a derisive snort and said faintly, “See? The Federation has been established for over a hundred years, yet our spellcasters’ vision and understanding of new things remain stuck in such a conservative era…”

He had always been sharp and relentless in his speech, sparing no one’s feelings. The people in the meeting hall were long used to it, and no one showed any sign of anger or embarrassment.

“This is an alchemical weapon! It has a special offensive ability fixed through magical inscriptions, developed specifically to target the constitution and physical characteristics of Demons…”

The director of the Research Department hurried forward, bowing as he leaned closer to the chiefs’ round table. His eyes widened in pleasant surprise. “So… we already have the finished product of this alchemical artifact? Can we begin replicating it?”

Gould, the director of the Battle Department, grunted and frowned. “How many can you replicate? Enough to equip the Mage coalition’s most elite high-rank caster legion? That’s a full one hundred and fifty high-rank battle mages! If we could equip every single one of them with such a powerful high-rank artifact, would we have needed to wait until today?”

The Mage coalition, formed by the Federation and the wizard kingdoms, was not without standard-issue magic artifacts. But even with the backing of a massive artifact-manufacturing organization like the Alchemical Exploration Society, they still found it difficult to gain an overwhelming advantage on the battlefield.

After all, no matter how good a standard-issue artifact was, a spellcaster still had to use their own reserves of magical energy and pair it with spells to attack. When their magic was depleted, the artifact’s spell-amplifying effect was meaningless; it would do less damage than an ordinary sword.

Members of the high-rank caster legion often disdained using the issued standard artifacts. These mass-produced, cheap, low-rank amplifying artifacts were far inferior to their own custom-made mid-to-high-rank ones, making them a very unappealing choice.

Salas’s lips curled upwards. He glanced sideways, his gaze seeming to just brush past Fran Macaulay, “Spellshield,” who was sitting bolt upright in the outer circle. The look made Fran jolt.

“The Chief is signaling that it’s my turn to speak…”

He immediately stood up and faced the bickering crowd, announcing loudly, “Everyone, we have already obtained the finished product of this standard-issue Anti-Demon magic artifact from our partners, and we have secretly commissioned the Chief Alchemist of the Alchemical Exploration Society to successfully complete a replica!”

The air in the room instantly froze…

“Then what are we still discussing cooperation for? Haven’t we already got our hands on it?”

“Hmph! They must have seriously underestimated the Federation’s capabilities. To just hand over a finished weapon of such importance… what gave them the confidence to think we couldn’t replicate it?”

“Three hundred of them! No, we only need to make one hundred and fifty of these artifacts, and our high-rank caster legion will be invincible along the Demon army’s supply lines!”

Gallagher, perpetually clad in his black robes, let out a cold snort, interrupting the excited, surging discussions in the hall.

“Arrogant! Blind! Ignorant! To use this weapon, replication alone is not enough. Its operating principle is similar to a crossbow; it requires ammunition, like arrows, to be loaded before it can fire! And this so-called ammunition, we are completely unable to replicate… we can’t even crack its manufacturing formula! This is the greatest leverage our partners have in negotiating with us!”

He stood up and pulled a bizarrely shaped, short silver metal staff from a box presented by an attendant. He raised it for all to see and said in a heavy tone, “Furthermore, the cooperation we intend to achieve is not as simple as merely equipping the high-rank caster legion with this Anti-Demon weapon!”

“As long as we have a continuous supply of magical ammunition provided by our partners, a spellcaster of any level can operate this artifact to attack the enemy. Even the most useless low-rank research-type mage can easily kill a powerful enhanced Demon warrior.”

Gallagher’s gaze swept across the hall, finally landing on his two fellow chiefs. He exchanged a slight nod with them before speaking words so shocking they rendered the entire room silent.

“Moreover… this is not a weapon that only spellcasters are qualified to use. Even if you give it to an ordinary mortal soldier, as long as he has undergone simple shooting and aiming training, he can completely replace a spellcaster and face Demon soldiers head-on on the battlefield!”

Chapter 223: The Agent

What?!!!

A high-rank magic weapon that ordinary people can use?!!!

Mortals can fight Demon soldiers head-on?

It doesn’t require knights from the Army of Judgment with awakened bloodline talents or extraordinary Spellcasters to use?!!!

A magic weapon that can be mass-produced like ordinary swords and bows?!!!

Everyone in the hall was stunned by the black-robed Chief’s words, their minds in turmoil, unable to believe what they had just heard.

The Director of the Department of Magical Affairs shot to his feet, swaying slightly. He steadied himself by grabbing the back of his chair and asked in a trembling voice, “Lord Chief… this… this magic weapon… does it inflict the same damage on Spellcasters?”

After a moment of silence, Salas’s deep voice echoed through the hall. “No. The magic arrows fired from this weapon are specifically designed to harm only Demons. We have conducted repeated tests on experimental subjects from other races and creatures, and it causes no harm to them… including Humans, of course.”

A wave of sighs swept through the hall as almost everyone let out a huge breath of relief.

The Director of the Department of Affairs collapsed back into his chair as if all his strength had left him, cold sweat beading on his pale face.

Gould, the Director of the Battle Department, on the other hand, looked ecstatic. He interjected in disbelief, “Lord Chief, if what you’re saying is true… this Anti-Demon weapon can be mass-produced, and as long as our partner provides a steady supply of ammunition… we can equip tens of thousands of Spellcasters… and common soldiers with it, giving us an overwhelming advantage in the fight against the Demons?”

Setting aside the armed forces of the Radiant Church and the Seven Wizard Kingdoms, the Federation alone has a standing combat force of two thousand Spellcasters stationed in Blackstone City in the Evil Moon Mountain Range. Most of them are experienced mid-rank battle mages, including over a hundred high-level casters.

Adding in the large number of ordinary wizard squires and support soldiers, as well as the steady stream of Spellcasters sent from the various nations of the south for rotational duty each year, the total number approaches five thousand.

If they could truly equip all these people with Anti-Demon weapons, the Federation could likely break free from the constraints of the wizard coalition. They would no longer need to struggle to maintain their shaky alliance with the Church. They could rely on their own strength to fend off the relentless assaults of the Demon armies!

The high-level casters from the Battle Department attending the joint meeting were now overcome with joy. They huddled together, murmuring excitedly, already envisioning the details of their future counteroffensive plans.

The older Director of the Academic Review Department, however, remained calm. His sharp gaze fixed on the three Chiefs at the round table as he asked hesitantly, “Then… what price must we pay for this?”

Although the three Chiefs were tight-lipped about the identity of their partner, no one present was a fool. An entity capable of handing over such a powerful and technologically advanced magic weapon to the Federation and proposing a partnership could not be any of the known continental powers. Neither the Burrowing Dwarves nor the Elves, who were allied with the Humans, nor the Sea-folk, who had always kept to themselves, possessed such capabilities.

The partner’s identity, therefore, must be one of those hidden ancient races or a non-human race from another dimension. They must have reached out to the three Legendary-rank Chiefs through some special means to offer this collaboration… Some in the hall even began to speculate that the partner might be the Devils from another dimension.

What is their objective? What price do they demand?

When the survival of a race is at stake, there is no such thing as selfless help or goodwill.

“Knowledge, resources, money, the status of an ally… As long as it aligns with the principle of equivalent exchange, They will accept it,” Chief Dawson replied succinctly.

Chief Salas explained in a gentle tone, “From the perspective of equivalent exchange, we need not worry about our partner’s sincerity. Their demands are perfectly reasonable, and it is a price we can afford…”

With that, he gestured for a magical assistant in the hall to distribute the prepared documents to everyone present, indicating that they should read them carefully.

“This isn’t a simple bilateral cooperation. Many factions are involved. On this matter, Dawson, Gallagher, and I are in agreement: the more factions we can tie to our ship, the greater the benefit for us…”

Everyone picked up the documents and began to read them word by word, only then realizing the complexity of the proposed partnership and the large number of races and factions involved.

The Burrowing Dwarves and the High Elves were the first mentioned. They would provide the magical materials for the mass-production of the Anti-Demon weapons, with the full procurement costs borne by the Federation. Their profits in this regard would not be squeezed as they had been in the past.

The manufacturing of the Anti-Demon weapons would be entirely handled by the official workshops of the Alchemical Exploration Society. They would only need to provide experienced Alchemists and apprentices to ensure the weapons were manufactured, assembled, and enchanted with inscriptions.

But the most crucial part—the production of the weapon’s ammunition—was, to everyone’s surprise, entrusted to a magical genius who had only recently become known to them: Kel’Thuzad, and the secret alchemical laboratory under his name.

“What is the meaning of this? The magic artifact’s ammunition, which we cannot replicate, can be produced by an independent Spellcaster whose true identity isn’t even public? Did the partner give him the secret formula? On what grounds?”

The Director of the Research Department stood up, furious. He demanded, “Who exactly is this Kel’Thuzad? What is the background of the organization behind him? Are they more capable than the Federation of Casters? Why should the most important task of producing the ammunition be handed over to him?”

“Spellshield” Fran Macaulay, who was sitting next to him, fastidiously wiped the spittle that had landed on the back of his hand and couldn’t help but retort, “What if this is a condition set by our partner? Are we to refuse? Or is your Research Department’s technology more advanced than the Esoteric Society’s, capable of bypassing them and replicating the ammunition yourselves?”

The Research Department Director was choked speechless. After returning to his seat, he shot Fran a resentful glare, wishing he could hit him with an Arcane Energy blast on the spot to vent his frustration.

But he did have a point. In this multi-party collaboration, it seemed the High Elves and Dwarves would profit from exporting raw materials, the Alchemical Exploration Society would master the technology for replicating and manufacturing the weapons, while the faction behind the unidentified independent Spellcaster would receive the most valuable asset: the formula for the magic ammunition.

And the Federation? Not only would they have to bear all the material costs for manufacturing the weapons and pay the Esoteric Society’s production fees, but even the crucial ammunition would be firmly in someone else’s hands.

To break free from the burden of the old-fashioned, conservative wizard families of the Seven Kingdoms, to no longer be constrained by the superficial alliance with the Radiant Church, and to independently lead the nations of the south against the Demon invasion… was it worth such a price?

“Worth it! Of course, it’s worth it!” The voices of Chief Dawson and Gallagher boomed in unison through the council hall, quelling the noisy murmurs and discussions.

“As long as we can drive the Demons completely out of the Evil Moon Mountain Range and push the war front to the barren lands north of the Spine of the Gods Mountains, gentlemen… think of the rich magic stone veins hidden in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, the rare magical plants, and the Demonic beast populations everywhere… Do you not understand the value of that?”

“And don’t forget, gentlemen, the sole agent chosen by our partner, Mr. Kel’Thuzad, is a Human. He will never betray his own race or harm the interests of the southerners…”

“Now, let us proceed with the vote by a show of hands, as has been the Federation’s tradition for the past hundred years!”

The three Chiefs were the first to stand, solemnly raising their left hands as they scanned the room.

“Spellshield” Fran Macaulay immediately rose and raised his hand, his voice firm. “I approve!”

Several Spellcasters from the Department of Affairs followed suit, rising and raising their hands in unison. “We approve!”

The Battle Department, led by Director Gould, all rose and raised their hands. “We approve!”

The First Committee Chairman of the Academic Review Department, the oldest Spellcaster present and one of the leaders of the Federation’s conservative faction, couldn’t help but close his eyes and sigh. “Are we not making a deal with a Devil?”

…

With more than half of those in the hall standing with raised hands in approval, the Tower Spirit Enzo, who had been floating silently beneath the dome, showed a strangely twisted expression on its enormous, eyeless face. It then opened its cavernous mouth and spat out an ancient roll of parchment, which floated down slowly to rest on the round table.

“The Oath-Binding Curse…”

Many of the older Spellcasters recognized the parchment’s origin and sighed in low voices.

Over a hundred years ago, when the Federation was founded, the first Chief of Legendary rank created five of these scrolls. The one before them was the very last.

The previous four had been used to sign peace treaties with the Burrowing Dwarves, the High Elves, and the Sea-folk. The last time one was used was fifty years ago, to sign a mutual defense pact with the Radiant Church, a compromise to resolve their conflicts and jointly fight the massive Demon invasion.

They never imagined that the last “Oath-Binding Curse” would now be used to sign a cooperative agreement where the partner’s identity had to be kept secret. The implication was clear—this confirmed that the partner was not one of them, but an unknown and mysterious non-human race.

The effect of this ancient scroll was actually quite simple. The terms of the agreement were written upon it, and then the allies would let their blood drip onto it. The oath would then be automatically established.

It was said that the method for creating this oath scroll came from the Age of Dragons a thousand years ago, an ancient binding curse the Dragon race used to enslave the other races of the continent. Anyone who broke the oath would suffer an irreversible backlash from the curse. Starting with the signer, the higher the rank of the extraordinary individuals in their race, the stronger the backlash. In severe cases, it could even affect their blood relatives and descendants.

After the three Federation Chiefs signed it, the parchment scroll would be sent directly to Hollowhearth City in the southern Breath of the Hills and to Laurien in the Golden Forest of the east.

Finally, the scroll would be sent via the Magic Net to the Forum “agent,” Kel’Thuzad, for him to give the final confirmation and signature…

This was also part of the mediating role he had to play as an “agent” independent of all the involved factions.

Chapter 224: The Ammunition Order

Two full weeks had passed by the time Harvey received the “Oath-Binding Curse” for the multi-party cooperative alliance from the Magic Net teleportation array.

It seemed the Federation, the Dwarves, and the Elves must have gone through several intense internal discussions and deliberations before finally agreeing to sign this special pact.

“The Oath-Binding Curse is something that has existed since ancient times…” Astaren picked up the ancient parchment scroll with great interest, observing it carefully. “Back then, however, it was used by the Dragons to enslave other intelligent races. The curse’s power was something that not even a Legendary-rank transcendent being could fully resist.”

Harvey asked curiously, “This contract scroll must be a replica, right? Is the binding effect it produces still comparable to the originals from the age of Dragons?”

Astaren chuckled and shook his head disdainfully. “Not unless the person who made this scroll could still obtain true Dragon’s blood. Of course… as a second-best option, the blood of a high-rank Vampire of my clan could also be a substitute. But judging from the magical energy fluctuations and incantations attached to it, I’m afraid they used the blood of some Wyrm-type demonic beast at most. It probably can’t even achieve half the effect of the original…”

Although Astaren was certain of the contract’s efficacy, Harvey still felt it wasn’t safe enough. This was nothing like the ordinary magical contract he had signed with Rainer in the past, which at most had the simple effect of a lie detector.

The “Oath-Binding Curse” was a simplified derivative of the “Enslavement Curse” from ancient times. It possessed a powerful binding ability at the soul level, and the slightest misstep could result in a severe backlash. Harvey was not one of the three Legendary-rank Chiefs of the Federation; he simply couldn’t afford the risks involved.

He then remembered the two unhatched soul puppet pods he had left behind on the beach of his Mental Anchor. They were formed after his sigil mutated, consumed and transformed by the terrifying fleshly fissures that had appeared on his body within the Mental Anchor. Theoretically, the puppet shells hatched from them would have absolutely no bloodline connection to him; they were merely empty vessels capable of containing his mental energy and soul.

With this in mind, Harvey decided to conduct a simple experiment using the two puppet shells to test if they could take his true self’s place in completing this so-called “Oath-Binding Curse.”

After quickly entering his Mental Anchor through guided meditation, Harvey was surprised to find that the half of a Church Priest’s life-soul projection he had devoured while helping three Forum members disentangle two fused sigils in the Magic Net had also been transformed into a transparent pod by the mysterious beach. It was now drifting gently onto the sand.

He curiously picked it up to observe it, only to discover with regret that the pod contained a malformed embryo with missing limbs. It seemed that consuming an incomplete life-soul projection or sigil could not produce a healthy puppet for him to inhabit. This deformed embryo was completely useless.

With a wry smile, Harvey tossed the useless pod aside and refocused his mental energy, rapidly catalyzing the remaining pod. He then brought it back to the real world through the connected Magic Net teleportation array.

The puppet, already in a state of soul separation, was very agile in its movements and expressions. The moment it returned to the Laboratory, it grabbed a thin blanket to cover itself and then deftly cooperated with Harvey, completing several simple experimental procedures like drawing blood, hemolysis, and blood testing.

Harvey picked up the blood sample, which was clearly layered and immiscible. He gently swirled the pale red liquid in the glass test tube and exchanged a knowing look with the soul puppet. They both grinned.

“It seems the puppet’s flesh-and-blood shell really doesn’t connect to the true self. But if I have the shell sign that ancient contract while it’s in a state of soul separation and carrying my soul, will the pact actually take effect?”

The puppet Harvey analyzed cautiously, “If Astaren is right, the contract works by binding the soul but retaliating against the flesh… then there’s a bug in the system that we can totally exploit.”

The real Harvey smiled slightly, taking the parchment scroll of the “Oath-Binding Curse” and handing it gently to the puppet. “Then let’s give it a try. The worst-case scenario is that the contract’s feedback still affects my true self. The Federation’s Chiefs have all signed, so there’s no reason for me to be squeamish.”

Without any hesitation, the puppet used a syringe to draw a small amount of its blood and, following the instructions on the scroll, smeared it across the surface covered in dark, runic incantations.

The moment the blood touched the faint incantations, they immediately began to writhe as if brought to life. The nematode-like patterns quickly formed a line of letters—Harvey Floyd.

But a moment later, as if correcting an error, the name swiftly dissolved and faded away. The lines twisted again to form Kel’Thuzad, the virtual handle without a surname. Yet this only lasted for less than half a minute before it began to squirm slowly once more, seemingly trying to dig into the deeper essence of the blood’s provider.

Harvey’s eyes narrowed. To his horror, he saw the twisting incantations on the ancient scroll slowly beginning to piece together symbolic characters he was all too familiar with—they were Chinese characters! They were trying to trace the true name of the contract’s signer!

Harvey’s real name from his past life as a Transmigrator!

But just as the name was halfway formed, it seemed to encounter an obstruction from some unknown existence. It was quickly scrambled again, scattering miserably across the parchment scroll, unable to reassemble for a long time.

A full ten minutes passed before the runes seemed to regain a little vitality. They gathered again, listlessly and crookedly forming Harvey’s anonymous handle, Kel’Thuzad. But the script looked exceptionally sloppy, like a poor imitation penned by an illiterate child.

Harvey wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and let out a long sigh of relief.

It seemed the unique nature of his identity as a Transmigrator had once again allowed him to narrowly escape the danger of being exposed. This time, however, he wasn’t sure if it was thanks to his mutated sigil or the obstructive effect of his Mental Anchor.

…

After exploiting the bug to sign the ancient contract, Harvey finally relaxed and began to carefully consider the multi-party cooperation with the Federation, the Burrowing Dwarves, and the High Elves.

According to the hints he had discreetly provided them on the Spellcaster Forum under his identity as Observer Neumann, the fictional organization led by Administrator Turing and Observer Neumann would only supply the technology and weapon prototypes for the Anti-Demon weapons.

As the designated agent in the real world, Harvey only needed to handle the mass production of the weapon ammunition using the magical materials provided by the Forum—after all, he had claimed that the materials for the magic ammunition could only be obtained from a sub-dimension by the Forum’s organization, and there were no substitutes to be found in the real world.

Harvey wasn’t the least bit worried about this lie being exposed or directly challenged. The manufacturing process for the magic ammunition required for the Anti-Demon energy weapons involved far too many procedures and specialized knowledge.

First, the Energy-devouring beetles were a crucial strategic resource that Harvey had a firm monopoly on. After all, the creatures had never been discovered in the south, and without heavy equipment like the alchemical shield tunneling machine, no other faction could possibly excavate deep beneath the Spine of the Continent Mountains to find the beetle nest.

Second was the soul transfer technology. Although the Alchemical Exploration Society had been trying to achieve a breakthrough, they had yet to succeed, let alone apply it maturely to a revolutionary technological product like the Soul Alchemical Beast in a short period.

As long as he held these material monopolies and technological barriers, and could ensure they weren’t leaked or stolen, Harvey was confident that for a long time to come, he could sit back and be a magical arms dealer in this transcendent world, reaping enormous profits for himself and the development of his territory.

As it turned out, no matter the world, no business grew faster than war profiteering…

But when he saw the weapon order that the Federation had sent along with the magical contract, he simply couldn’t hold back his laughter, leaving Rainer and Astaren, who had just returned to report on their work, completely bewildered.

“Hahaha! What are they thinking? The first batch is five thousand magic bullets… For just this much, they needed to solemnly sign an ancient contract and drag the Dwarves and Elves onto the same ship for insurance?”

The gap between the grand arms deal he had imagined and reality was simply too vast for Harvey. What was the difference between this and carrying a bag of gold bars to the village market just to buy a bunch of scallions?

Astaren took the order from Harvey’s hand and, after a quick scan, couldn’t help but chuckle as well. “Maybe… maybe their current resource allocation prevents them from producing a large number of Anti-Demon weapons. After all, bullets are useless without guns. They can’t build up combat strength that way…”

Rainer scratched his head, confused. “Am I just ignorant? The Federation… plus the Alchemical Exploration Society where Mr. Chris used to work, the mining Dwarves in the south, and those green elves from the east… all of them together can’t scrounge up the materials and manpower to mass-produce Anti-Demon guns? Are they even capable? If they really can’t do it, just give the order to me! If the munitions factory runs three shifts, I can churn out a thousand of them in half a month, as long as the material supply keeps up.”

Harvey just shook his head with a helpless smile. There was no real technical difficulty in manufacturing the Anti-Demon weapons. He had given the finished product to the Federation members through the Forum with the express purpose of encouraging them to replicate it. After all, without absolute power, one couldn’t hog the whole cake for oneself. Doing so would only create countless enemies out of conflicting interests.

Therefore, he was more than happy to see the Esoteric Society, Dwarves, and Elves get involved.

The Dwarves excelled at mining and forging magical minerals, the Elves could produce and prepare the crucial magical reagents for weapon inscriptions, and the Esoteric Society possessed the most advanced magic artifact workshops on the entire continent. It formed a perfect weapon production chain, reminiscent of the “global manufacturing” Harvey had seen on Earth.

Similarly, sharing a few slices of the lucrative weapon sales profits with the friendly allied races who had long been exploited would greatly alleviate their discontent and protests against Humans and the Federation. Both sides would owe Harvey a huge favor, making it a win-win situation in terms of both profit and reputation.

Bringing the Alchemical Exploration Society in as an independent partner was his way of repaying the two “Men in the Mirror” for their selfless aid. In this regard, Harvey, as a Transmigrator with his values intact, felt the need to maintain a bit of his humanity.

Chapter 225: The Gun of Annihilation

North of the Evil Moon Mountain Range lay a hilly region of jagged terrain.

Damo Franck patrolled the temporary camp with a group of squires, exchanging greetings with the low-rank battle mages stationed there.

About a week had passed since they had suddenly received an independent combat mission from the Federation, arrived at this location, and set up a concealed camp.

Their position in these highlands was less than a day’s journey from the Demons’ supply hub on the western front.

Just by crossing the low mountain range not far away, one could clearly see the dense primeval forest below, stretching across the vast barren lands like a dark green ocean, winding its way to the unseen end of the plains.

A grand and imposing black fortress, like a giant pustule parasitizing the earth, lay ugly and abrupt in the middle of the vast plains—that was the Demons’ forward supply hub.

Dozens of long supply lines extended from behind it. From the air, one could clearly see the remains of felled and burned vegetation all around it.

“Lord Franck! The reconnaissance mages sent out last night have returned. They are currently waiting in the main tent to report to you!”

Upon hearing the report from his personal guard, Damo Franck nodded and hurried toward the main camp.

Two reconnaissance mages in standard-issue Federation robes were conversing in low voices inside the large meeting tent. Seeing their commander lift the flap and enter, they immediately rose and saluted with a hand to their chests.

“My lord, the Demon’s supply lines are indeed showing signs of regrouping. This time, they’ve brought in more hybrid demonic beasts. Along the way, we saw more than… more than ten demonic beast battalions.”

Franck frowned and pressed, “Ten? How did you get such precise information? Were you able to get close to the supply lines? What about the demonic cavalry scouts?”

The older of the two reconnaissance mages cracked a smile. He unslung the long pack he had been carrying and cradled it in his arms, stroking it fondly. “The newly issued Anti-Demon magic artifacts are the perfect weapons for countering those demonic cavalry! Using the Eye of Reconnaissance, we can spot those guys from several hundred meters away. We just need to use concealment spells to hide from a distance and release the magic quarrels from this weapon. They die instantly, without even a chance to send a warning signal…”

The younger reconnaissance mage eagerly chimed in, “That’s right! It’s a shame we were only issued ten magic quarrels each. Otherwise, we could have wiped out all the demonic scout teams along supply line number three… Heh, those scouts usually rotate back to camp every three days. Their main camp probably hasn’t even noticed that a large number of their cavalry scouts are missing yet.”

Damo Franck stiffened, clenching his fists as he reprimanded them with a pained expression, “Reckless! How could you use something so precious against those low-level demonic scouts! Do you have any idea how rare these things are? The lords in the high-rank Mage Corps only get twenty or thirty magic quarrels each on average. If Lord Gallagher hadn’t fought for it, you reconnaissance mages wouldn’t even be qualified to touch them!”

A high-rank magic artifact that could instantly kill a frenzied demonic warrior from a distance without consuming a single trace of the caster’s own magical energy was simply too important to them.

For the vast majority of the Federation’s low and mid-rank battle mages, the appearance of this powerful magic artifact, which was ahead of its time, was like gaining a crucial life-saving trump card. They were the group that suffered the most attrition on the battlefield between the two races, with a casualty rate second only to the ordinary squires used as cannon fodder.

Franck’s hundred-mage Reconnaissance Corps, however, had received some preferential treatment due to its illustrious combat record of always being on the front lines. Over half of his reconnaissance mages were fortunate enough to be granted the right to use this weapon, and each was issued ten magic quarrels to activate it.

“Do you have any idea that to get you a few more magic quarrels from the Lord Marshal, I nearly had to kneel, grab his robes, and beg him with tears in my eyes?”

The older reconnaissance mage shuddered and quickly explained, “My lord, we weren’t acting recklessly! At the very least, we pushed close to supply line number three and obtained accurate information on enemy reinforcements!”

Franck rolled his eyes. Just as he was about to continue scolding his subordinate for his wastefulness, another personal squire ducked into the tent and whispered in his ear, “My lord, the Lord Marshal has come to the front lines himself. He is currently staying with Lord Raphael’s corps. Do you wish to see him now?”

“The Lord Marshal is here? Doesn’t that mean the high-rank Mage Corps is at the front lines too?” Franck shot to his feet, a thought flashing through his mind.

The Federation was probably planning a major move against the Demons’ western front supply hub!

The personal guard added in a low voice, “I heard that the Lord Marshal brought a lot of… magic quarrels that just arrived in Blackstone City from the rear. The leaders of the other corps have already received the news and are rushing to see him…”

Franck was aghast. “Why didn’t you say so earlier!” he roared. “Quickly! Quickly! Quickly! We’re leaving to see the Lord Marshal at once! Any later and those precious magic quarrels will be snatched up by the other corps!”

…

As the only high-rank caster in the Reconnaissance Corps, Franck couldn’t wait for his personal guards and squires to assemble. He summoned a gale of ice and snow, launching himself into the sky and speeding toward the camp of another Mage Corps not far behind his own position.

Behind the hilly highlands was a stretch of dark green mountains. This was a gorge opening in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, serving as both an important route for the demonic army’s southern advance and a vital stronghold in the resistance against the demonic invasion.

Raphael’s corps, which also belonged to the Reconnaissance Mage Corps, was stationed at the entrance of a mountain pass. This reconnaissance camp was not a temporary structure but a permanent war fortress, built primarily for the long-term surveillance of the Demon’s forward hub. Once its magically-enhanced war beacons were lit, even Blackstone City would receive the warning instantly.

Although Franck flew at his maximum speed, by the time he burst into the war fortress’s council hall, he found that several of his colleagues were already inside, arguing vehemently.

“Franck? You’re here already? The Spell Messenger I sent to inform you only just left the fortress a moment ago.” His old comrade Raphael stood up and greeted him with a wide smile.

Franck rolled his eyes and ignored him, walking straight to the commander of the Reconnaissance Corps, the high-rank caster Andre Weiss. He saluted with a hand on his chest. “Lord Marshal, I just received a report from my scouts. The Demons have brought in at least ten more battalions of hybrid demonic beasts through their rear supply lines…”

“They haven’t launched any large-scale invasions in recent months, but they’ve been continuously reinforcing their forward war hub. I suspect they are planning a major move…”

Seated at the head of the table, Marshal Andre Weiss narrowed his eyes and said in a deep voice, “Your scout squad actually pushed close to their supply line and obtained information on their troop strength?”

Another mage officer of a hundred-man corps, a man with graying hair, scoffed. “Franck’s Reconnaissance Corps has always had the highest casualty rate among us. Without air suppression from a high-rank caster, relying solely on ground-pounding reconnaissance mages… the battle reports they acquire are simply paid for with lives…”

Franck shot the man a glare before bowing to the Marshal. “I sent out two scout mage squads. They used the newly issued Anti-Demon weapons to clear out most of the demonic scouts entrenched along supply line number three. By exploiting the time gap in the enemy’s cavalry rotations, they slipped close to the supply line and gathered intel.”

“You… You used up all the magic quarrels? By the Arcane, that’s… that’s a criminal waste! Such a powerful magic artifact should be used in frontal combat against those troublesome frenzied warriors and demonic priests, not ordinary demonic scouts!”

Everyone stared at Franck as if he were an idiot, their disbelief akin to hearing someone had used a high-circle spell to swat a mosquito.

Marshal Andre Weiss chuckled softly before speaking. “The other corps that were assigned the new artifacts and magic quarrels have all strictly controlled their battle mages’ use of them. You, on the other hand, just tossed them away like water on a single reconnaissance mission.”

He waved his hand, but his tone suddenly shifted. “However, you were right to do so! No weapon, no matter how precious, is worth more than vital enemy intelligence and the lives of our battle mages.”

“Besides… I came this time to tell you all that there’s no need to be stingy with the magic quarrels anymore. The Battle Department has allocated more supplies to the front lines—a full thirty thousand magic quarrels. Not only will the high-rank Mage Corps be fully equipped, but your Reconnaissance and Defense Corps will also get a fair share…”

A mage squire came forward and handed him one of the Anti-Demon energy artifacts.

Andre Weiss held up the alchemical artifact, which was forged from metal and mithril and engraved with numerous energy inscriptions. He announced loudly to the assembly, “The Federation has unanimously decided to name this artifact—the Gun of Annihilation! The magic quarrels that activate its energy attack will henceforth be known as Annihilation Rounds. In a week, even more Guns of Annihilation and ammunition will be delivered to Blackstone City… We are going to equip every single battle mage in the Federation with this Anti-Demon weapon!”

The council hall was silent for a few heartbeats, then erupted into even more fervent discussion.

“Equip the entire army? Everyone gets one? Even low-rank casters who serve in support roles are eligible?”

“It doesn’t require channeling magical energy. You just pull the trigger and kill a demonic soldier. Never mind low-rank casters, even those academic beanpoles could use it, couldn’t they?”

“How many magic quar—Annihilation Rounds would that consume? Can the Alchemical Exploration Society supply the war effort? Won’t this bankrupt the Federation?”

“Hmph, I don’t care about all that. As long as my corps is fully equipped and supplied with enough Annihilation Rounds, I’ll take on the deep reconnaissance missions too!”

Damo Franck ignored the chatter among the corps leaders. After a moment of thought, he addressed Marshal Andre Weiss, “My lord, are we… planning a large-scale counterattack against the Demon’s forward hub soon? Are we… are we going to storm their central fortress?”

The surrounding discussions immediately ceased. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the Reconnaissance Corps Marshal’s reply.

“Heh, this isn’t exactly a top secret. You’ve all probably heard the rumors… We will no longer be conducting defensive or combat operations jointly with the Church and the allied forces of the wizard kingdoms.”

“From now on, the Federation will carry the sole responsibility for combat operations on the western front of the Evil Moon Mountain Range, be it fending off a renewed demonic invasion or counter-attacking north of the mountains…” He stood up, raising the Gun of Annihilation high. “This is our greatest asset for breaking free from the constraints of the Church and the seven wizard kingdoms. Let all the nations of the south see for themselves who the true backbone of humanity is, standing on the front lines resisting the non-human invasion!”

“And now, the first large-scale counter-offensive mission we will undertake… will be a cutoff assault plan targeting the Demons’ war supply lines three through eight, with the high-rank Mage Corps as the main force and the Reconnaissance Corps in support!”

Chapter 226: Pre-Battle Preparations

The Federation had three battle mage corps stationed in Blackstone City within the Evil Moon Mountain Range: the Reconnaissance forces, the Defense forces, and the High-Rank Mage Corps. The Reconnaissance forces had a standing force of five full hundred-mage battalions. The Defense forces were constantly replenished by Spellcasters sent in rotations from the rear. Only the High-Rank Mage Corps was special, composed of just over one hundred high-rank battle mages who used their formidable aerial mobility to carry out dangerous surprise attacks and counter-offensives.

A week later, all pre-battle preparations were complete for the raid on the demonic supply line, an operation codenamed “Operation Rip” by the Federation.

Reconnaissance Marshal Andre Weiss was in command of this operation. He would personally lead the mages of three hundred-man Reconnaissance Corps battalions, advancing covertly from the opening in the Evil Moon Mountain canyon toward Supply Line Number Three, to arrive at the foothill outpost camp ahead of schedule and await orders.

This was a combined arms operation with ground forces as its core. High-rank mages with their superior aerial mobility would serve as bait, frequently harassing and attacking demonic logistics routes beyond supply lines Three through Eight. The true purpose was to divert the attention of the demonic priests and hybrid demonic beasts in the target area, creating a gap in the enemy’s defenses for the Reconnaissance Corps’ mages to exploit.

Although most of the battle mages in the Reconnaissance forces were of low to middle rank, they were permanently stationed in the Evil Moon Mountain Range. Across this vast, several-hundred-kilometer-wide combat zone, they had engaged in countless small-scale skirmishes with the Demons, making them a truly elite force that walked the line between life and death.

They had used coordinated spellcasting to fight off frenzied warriors that outnumbered them several times over, and they stood unflinching against the terrifying threat of enemies charging to self-destruct. During the most difficult years of the war, when the great demonic army advanced to the walls of Blackstone City, they worked with the city’s defense forces, operating in small squads across the battlefield to repeatedly infiltrate and harass the demonic rear lines. Their actions slowed the enemy’s advance, buying time for Human reinforcements to arrive.

It could be said that they were the most resolute group of Spellcasters in the Federation. Even knowing that the Demons were deploying formidable and terrifying hybrid demonic beasts to the battlefield, not a single one of them shrank back or feared participating in the mission.

The hundred-man Reconnaissance Corps battalion commanded by Damo Franck had suffered over fifty percent casualties in their last small-scale engagement against hybrid demonic beasts. They had been forced to take on some low-rank Spellcasters from other battalions as reinforcements, leaving their combat strength far below that of the other two battalions participating in this operation.

For this reason, Marshal Andre Weiss not only equipped their entire battalion with Guns of Annihilation but also generously resupplied them with five hundred rounds of Annihilation magical energy ammunition. This was, without a doubt, blatant special treatment.

“My lord Franck, if we run into the Demons’ hybrid demonic beast corps head-on again, we won’t be taking a beating this time,” a veteran reconnaissance mage who had long served under Franck said, stroking his newly issued Gun of Annihilation with a cold snort. “Hmph, if I see those mongrels the Demons keep as pets again, I’ll be sure to blast a hole right in their oversized foreheads…”

The hybrid demonic beasts, bred by the Demons through esoteric methods, were clearly different from ordinary wild or ridden demonic beasts. Not only could they spew attack spells like fireballs, ice shards, and venom from their mouths, but their flesh-and-blood bodies were also exceptionally tough and resilient. They even possessed a degree of magic resistance, making them almost completely immune to common low-rank area-of-effect spells.

Ordinary Bloodline Warriors and mage squires simply couldn’t withstand the impact of their massive bodies, while a Spellcaster’s coordinated area-of-effect attacks dealt limited damage. This meant that Spellcasters had to gather in large numbers to surround and kill a single hybrid demonic beast using powerful single-target spells.

However, the demonic frenzied warriors that fought alongside the hybrid demonic beasts posed an immense threat to Spellcasters in these situations. Their bodies, enhanced by injections of the flesh-and-blood potion, also had some magic resistance. In close combat, Spellcasters could do little more than fight with the determination to take their enemies down with them.

…

The three Reconnaissance Corps battalions, marching on foot, were much slower than the high-rank mages flying overhead. It took them a full two days to reach the low mountain ridge that overlooked the demonic supply line.

Several dispersed scout squads had already clashed with demonic scout cavalry active around the supply line a few times. Relying on the ultra-long-range power of their Guns of Annihilation, the reconnaissance mages could often detect enemy activity far in advance. They used their well-practiced concealment spells to approach and assassinate their targets, ensuring their own forces’ movements remained hidden.

“Son of Flame” Fell Hoden and “Stormwalker” Matthews Wiley flew side-by-side, skillfully manipulating the flow of magical energy around their bodies as they sped toward a small fortress several kilometers away, nestled within a dark green, primeval forest.

It was a depot on the Demons’ Supply Line Number Ten, which they had built into a fortress-like permanent fortification. Approximately one hundred frenzied warriors and several demonic priests were stationed there permanently.

Flying at high speed, Matthews suddenly let out a hiss, catching Fell’s attention and causing him to slow down as well.

“Lord Gallagher allowed us to choose our own targets for harassment, but did we really have to pick an outpost this far away?” Matthews complained with a frown. “We flew all the way from the canyon outpost and even had to stop once to replenish our magical energy just to make it here… It’s too far. If something unexpected happens, we might not even have the strength to get back.”

Fell, dressed in a simple, gray-black battle mage’s tunic, hovered in mid-air above the crown of a hundred-meter-tall tree. Hearing these cautious words from his comrade-in-arms and fellow netizen, he scoffed disdainfully. “What are you afraid of? It’s barely a day’s flight. How is that far? If you can’t fly anymore, we can walk. If you can’t even walk… Fine, I’ll take the loss and carry you myself. How’s that?”

He pulled two high-grade elemental magic stones from the storage ring on his finger, casually tossed one to Matthews, and began rapidly absorbing the magical energy from his own to replenish his reserves.

He continued to ramble on relentlessly, “How long have you been stationed in the Evil Moon Mountain Range? Why are you still so timid? If we’re going to be the bait, we have to make a big enough scene… Those idiots clustering together near the main demonic front will definitely attract the attention of the high-rank priests in the central fortress. Those guys are no joke. It’s easy to go from being fake bait to meat on the chopping block…”

Matthews retorted irritably, “Even so, they can retreat quickly and return to the canyon outpost. It’s a lot less dangerous than us going deep behind enemy lines, isn’t it?”

As he spoke, he suddenly froze. “You mean… what they’re doing won’t be a very effective lure? If they do it repeatedly, it might arouse the suspicion of the Demonic high command in the central fortress… They won’t easily expose a gap in their supply line defenses. In that case, our ground reconnaissance forces could suffer heavy losses!”

Lord Wes Gallagher, despite being a battle mage and the Chief of the Federation—as well as the supreme commander of the Federation’s combat forces in Blackstone City—actually had very limited authority over the high-level casters in the corps. Most of the time, he could only serve as a nominal commander and coordinator.

This was related to the complex internal conflicts and factional struggles that had existed within the Federation since its founding a century ago. Most of the high-rank mages in the battle corps had ties to the ancient families of the Seven Wizard Kingdoms, or at the very least were confidants or close friends of certain department heads within the Federation. They were a group that would obey a direct order but never a summons.

Fell clenched his fist, crushing the magic stone in his palm, now depleted of its energy, into fine powder. He said darkly, “So why do you think this operation is centered on the ground-based battle mage forces, with high-level casters relegated to being bait and support? Hmph. This bunch of fence-sitters, who never followed orders anyway, will soon be made obsolete…”

Disobedient Spellcasters are like unwieldy tools. Now that a more suitable replacement exists, they will naturally be cast aside by the orthodox faction within the Federation…

As this thought crossed Matthews’ mind, a strange expression appeared on his face. He silently roasted him in his head, “Isn’t this guy right in front of me a prime example of disobedience? How dare he bad-mouth others behind their backs? Has he forgotten how he himself got kicked out of the Mage Corps and had to take an early, disgraceful retirement?”

Of course, he didn’t dare say this to Fell Hoden’s face. If he had, they probably would have started fighting right there before the mission was even finished.

“Why not just tell Lord Gallagher about the drawbacks and flaws in the decoy plan? It could reduce the casualties among the ground forces…”

“Heh, there may be many fools, but we’re not the only two smart ones around. Don’t worry, other high-rank mages have the same idea as us…”

Fell turned his gaze toward the distant supply depot and urged impatiently, “Alright, had enough of a rest? Should I go down and make you a cup of tea? If not, then let’s get a move on!”

…

The two of them soon flew to within a few hundred meters of the supply depot, where they slowed down and began to circle, observing it.

Matthews, whose eyes had been enhanced with secret arts, immediately spotted a giant, deformed monster perched atop the small fortress. It had no torso, only a massive head fixed inside a large iron cage. The hundreds of crimson compound eyes on its head were constantly scanning the surroundings, and then, almost instantly, they all focused on the two figures hovering in the sky.

“It’s a Scout Eye-Demon! We’ve been spotted!” Matthews warned in a low voice.

The fortress below immediately erupted into activity. Four figures in dark red robes flew out one after another from an opening in the fortress roof, charging straight for Fell and Matthews.

“Dammit! What’s going on? Isn’t this supposed to be a supply depot? Why are there four high-rank priests here?”

Fell couldn’t help but curse. He exchanged a quick glance with Matthews; both of them realized something was wrong.

Among the four demonic priests flying toward them, the one in the lead, while also wearing the dark red robes that signified high rank, incongruously wore a tall metal crown on his head that reflected the daylight with a dazzling glare.

His head seemed to have fused with the crown; its metal base was embedded directly into the flesh of his scalp, making his head look more than a size larger than those of the other demonic priests.

“That’s… an Ascendant! Son of a bitch, that’s an Ascendant from among the high-rank demonic priests!”

The two of them turned around almost instantly and sped toward the distant forest without looking back.

The fierce wind from their flight made it almost impossible for Matthews to speak. He could only shout hoarsely, “What do we do? Just run? What if they don’t give up the chase? We can’t outlast that Ascendant!”

Fell snorted coldly. “First, we put some distance between us. Let them chase! In a little while, we’ll pretend we’ve run out of magical energy and drop to the ground… Don’t forget, we still have our Guns of Annihilation!”

Chapter 227: The Lure

Fell Hoden and Matthews Wiley flew at high speed, one after the other. A few hundred meters behind them, four demonic priests followed closely. They didn’t seem to be in a hurry to catch up, simply tailing the two’s flight path as if waiting to exhaust their magical energy in the vast barren lands.

Fell shouted, “Look ahead! How about that place for an ambush?”

Matthews instinctively looked forward and saw a dense forest covering a range of rolling hills. The vegetation here was clearly much thicker than elsewhere; the trees grew so close together that they seemed to be desperately competing for space. Their canopies left no gaps, resembling an immense, dark-green velvet carpet from a distance.

He nodded at Fell. With a shared understanding, they came to an abrupt halt in mid-air, then plunged diagonally downward, their figures immediately swallowed by the dense primeval forest.

Matthews conjured a thin shell of ice to protect his body, preventing branches from scratching him during the dive.

Fell, on the other hand, paid no mind to such things. He charged headfirst, smashing branches out of his way and even snapping a tree limb as thick as a thigh with his head.

The two charged all the way to the ground, then quickly retrieved their Guns of Annihilation from their storage rings. Following their memory, they slid several crystal-clear bullets into the slots at the rear of the guns.

“Have you ever used this thing? Is it really like they say? As long as it hits a Demon’s body, it triggers an annihilation ability similar to the Dark bloodline, causing their flesh to wither and decay in an instant?”

Fell nodded. “I never trust what others say, but since Mr. Kel’Thuzad was involved in making this, it can’t be too far off. And I heard… if you hit a vital spot, their body will just disintegrate, shattering into dust like a stone smashed by a hammer… Heh heh, just thinking about it is thrilling!”

Matthews relaxed a little. Just as he was about to ask about some operational details, he heard a violent gust of wind from above. Three demonic priests crashed through the canopy and were now rushing toward them.

The gun in Fell’s hand fired at almost the same instant a missile of black fire was unleashed from one of the priests’ hands!

Matthews instantly flung out dozens of densely packed ice blades that collided with the black flame magic missile. A violent fluctuation of magical energy erupted, followed by a booming explosion that echoed in the air.

When he looked up again, the demonic priest who had cast the black flame spell looked as if he had been struck by an invisible hammer. His body suddenly exploded at the waist, his torso splitting into two halves that fell straight to the ground without spilling a single drop of blood.

The remaining two priests immediately and nimbly changed their diving trajectory, hiding their bodies behind thick tree trunks while letting out shrill screeches—they were calling for their leader, the Ascendant, to come and assist.

They had apparently gotten separated while searching in different directions…

Fell gave a savage grin and tucked the gun under his arm, muttering as if to himself, “What happened? I was clearly aiming for his head.”

As he spoke, he rubbed his hands together, condensing a massive, long chain of fire. The surrounding temperature instantly rose several times over. Standing beside him, Matthews felt the air thin considerably, his throat growing dry.

Fell stared intently at the demonic priests who were constantly changing positions as they closed in. He suddenly clapped his hands together and flung the chain of fire. The moment it left his body, it transformed into a crimson, giant fire serpent. The serpent raised its head high, let out a hiss, and then coiled around a thick tree trunk as it swept toward the enemy.

The trees in the dense forest were ignited one after another as the fire serpent passed, and flames, along with thick smoke, shot toward the sky.

“Are you trying to burn down this whole forest? Cough cough! Even if we escape the Ascendant, there’s no way we’ll be able to fly out of here!” Matthews was choked by the smoke and began cursing.

Fell shrugged nonchalantly. “Let’s focus on the battle at hand first. I’m a Fire Elemental Mage, what do you expect me to do? If it burns, it burns…”

Seeing that the fire serpent had already entangled one of the demonic priests, Matthews could only roll his eyes and shift his attention to the other enemy attacking from the side.

He silently chanted an incantation, and a crystalline sheet of ice immediately formed at his feet. The ice spread out rapidly, paving a path as smooth as a mirror and carrying Matthews as he slid forward at the speed of light, appearing before the enemy in an instant.

He stretched out his hands, and a vast number of ice crystals and snowflakes immediately condensed out of thin air within a several-meter radius. The demonic priest had just landed when his feet were frozen to the ground. He had no choice but to emit wisps of black fire to melt the ice and free himself.

Three black flame orbs materialized beside him, spinning as they shot toward Matthews, who stood on the ice. However, they were blocked one after another by continuously appearing ice shields and ultimately shattered.

Three incomparably sharp ice spikes appeared silently behind the demonic priest, formed from the ubiquitous floating ice crystals within the Frozen Domain Matthews had created.

With a soft shhk, a phantom shield that had suddenly materialized behind the demonic priest shattered on impact, but the remaining two ice spikes plunged into his back without pause. His body stiffened, and he spat out a mouthful of blood.

In the domain of a high-level Ice Spellcaster, every single snowflake could instantly be turned into a deadly weapon.

“A priest who just recently achieved high-rank. Not very experienced in combat…” Matthews pursed his lips and said softly as he watched the enemy collapse onto the ice.

Turning his head, he saw that the other enemy had been incinerated into a human-shaped piece of charcoal by Fell’s giant fire serpent, dying instantly without even having time to scream.

A sharp, piercing sound echoed from the sky. The Ascendant had arrived.

The two instinctively looked up, but they didn’t see the Ascendant’s figure diving down from the sky.

“Watch out!”

Matthews, whose eyes were enhanced by magical energy, was the first to notice something was wrong and shouted at Fell.

A searing flame shield instantly enveloped the Fire Mage’s body. He whipped his head around to see a pair of strange, twisted black arms clawing viciously at his side!

He instinctively intensified the flame shield, but the strange black hands completely ignored the blaze that could melt even metal, passing directly through the shield and grabbing his side forcefully.

Fell grunted in pain and took two steps back. He suddenly slipped and fell, finding himself sliding backward at high speed on the smooth ice.

A huge gash had been torn in his side, staining the pristine white ice with scarlet droplets along the way.

“Damn it! This guy’s advancement ability is anti-magic! Don’t fight him up close!” Fell clutched the wound on his side and struggled to his feet, cursing.

A figure in a crimson robe and wearing a metal coronet slowly materialized where Fell had just been standing.

Unlike the other demonic priests, his face was not covered in fine, natural scales, but was instead tattooed with dense, strange incantations. Even more bizarrely, two twisted, black, malformed arms protruded from his ribs below his normal arms. As he walked, they waved around unconsciously, as if trying to grab something.

Matthews pulled Fell and slid backward rapidly. “I’ve never fought an Ascendant among the demonic priests,” he said anxiously. “Besides anti-magic, what other strange abilities do they have?”

Fell coughed up a large mouthful of blood. He realized his body’s enhanced regeneration couldn’t even stop the bleeding from his wound and couldn’t help but let out a cold snort. “Teleportation, weakening… His attacks also have a weakening effect. I’m hurt, and the wound won’t stop bleeding…”

He paused, then said in a low voice, “Don’t try to out-spell him… Find a way to use the Gun of Annihilation. Hitting his body might not be enough. You have to aim for his head!”

Before Matthews could nod in response, the Ascendant’s figure flickered and appeared right in front of them. His twisted arms reached straight for him, two lightless black holes suddenly appearing in his palms, constantly sucking in the crystalline snowflakes and ice from the Frozen Domain. The vortexes of the black holes expanded rapidly.

Suddenly, a black ripple exploded from the Ascendant’s palms, instantly sweeping through the blazing forest. In a flash, it extinguished all the flames within a hundred-meter radius. The wave of magical energy swept through like a gale, directly shattering the Frozen Domain Matthews had created.

The smooth ice instantly melted and disappeared. Unable to control their momentum, the two were thrown apart. Fell crashed heavily into a charred tree trunk, spitting out another large mouthful of blood. This time, he couldn’t even get back up.

Matthews scrambled up from the ground, took the Gun of Annihilation from his back, and half-knelt, holding it level—this was a technique all spellcasters had been taught when the weapons were issued, as it improved aiming accuracy.

The Ascendant’s figure flickered in and out of sight, rapidly closing the distance to Matthews. After his final teleportation, Matthews quickly pulled the trigger, aiming for his chest—they were less than five meters apart, but he wasn’t confident in hitting the head. The torso was the safest bet.

With a soft tsss, one of the Ascendant’s withered arms suddenly broke off, and a thick, dark mist burst from the stump. The mist seemed indiscriminate, causing severe corrosion when it touched his normal body parts.

The Ascendant roared in fury. He blocked with his remaining extra arm while thrusting forward with his normal hands held together, sending a massive black flame fireball hurtling toward Matthews.

The distance was too short. Matthews had no time to cast a defensive shield, and most of his magical energy had been depleted in the fight.

His heart sank. But instead of trying a futile dodge, he raised the Gun of Annihilation again and aimed at the Ascendant’s chest, intending to take him down together.

But before he could pull the trigger, the Ascendant’s head suddenly exploded with a bang. The metal coronet was sent flying, clattering against a rock on the ground.

The black flame orb, no longer under the Ascendant’s control, disintegrated before it could reach Matthews. It exploded less than a meter in front of him, and a few embers of black flame landed on his shoulder and arm, immediately searing his skin.

Ignoring the pain, he turned to look at Fell nearby. He saw that although Fell couldn’t get up, he had managed to prop himself against the tree trunk, half-lying there, holding his Gun of Annihilation and giving Matthews a goofy grin.

“How’s that? My aim’s not bad, huh? One-shot headshot!” He chuckled twice, his face unusually pale. He urged Matthews on repeatedly, “Hiss… Quick! Use your ice spell to freeze my wound. I’m about to fucking bleed out!”

Chapter 228: Operation Rip

Dragging his exhausted body, Matthews Wiley staggered to Fell Hoden’s side. He forced himself to raise a hand and release a small, dense cloud of icy mist, instantly freezing the massive, bloody wound on Fell’s waist.

“So this is what you call… staying away from the front-line hub and ‘making a big enough scene’?” After treating Fell’s wound, Matthews couldn’t hold on any longer. He slid down against a tree trunk, legs spread wide, and gasped for breath. “Two high-level casters almost died here… Is that a big enough scene?”

Fell gave a couple of sheepish chuckles and, for once, didn’t argue back. He took two small crystal glass vials from his storage ring, swirled the clear, light-green liquid inside one, and thrust the other into Matthews’s hand.

“Drink it… These are the last two I have. A magic potion concocted by those old geezers from the Quinn family, made from an extract of Golden Tree heartwood…”

Matthews took the vial, his face a mask of surprise. He held it in his hand, hesitant to uncork it. “What? So it’s true the Quinn family has been illegally logging the Golden Forest? No wonder those High Elves consider them their arch-enemies.”

Fell couldn’t be bothered to explain. After drinking the potion, he closed his eyes to rest for a moment, then pushed himself up and walked over to the headless corpse of the “Ascendant.” He picked up the strangely shaped metal crown and turned it over in his hands.

The thing looked crudely crafted, and there was no trace of magical fluctuation within it. It didn’t seem to be any special kind of demonic magic artifact, but Fell couldn’t identify the metal it was cast from. He could only tuck it away for later study.

He then searched the dead demonic priest’s body, but found nothing of value aside from some strange, black pills.

“I just don’t get it. Why are these demon spellcasters so averse to using magic artifacts? They’d rather have their bodies surgically altered with demonic beasts and turn into these… freaks that are neither human nor ghost…”

Matthews, having recovered some of his strength, got to his feet. “Alright, let’s get back to the canyon outpost as soon as possible. The longer we stay here, the more dangerous it gets…”

Fell raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “Go back? Have you lost your mind? We’ve come all this way and taken such a beating. We can’t leave without going straight to that supply station and tearing the roof off the place!”

Boom—

A violent flash of light erupted from deep within the dense forest ahead, and a thick plume of smoke mixed with dust rose into the air.

Damo Franck felt the ground under his feet tremble slightly.

This was the Reconnaissance Corps’ low- and mid-rank spellcasters engaging in a magical bombardment duel with the hybrid demonic beast corps below.

A few moments later, another cloud of dense smoke and dust erupted in the distance. The muffled sounds of explosions began to ring out continuously. Even through the Eye of Reconnaissance linked to his mind, he couldn’t penetrate the smoke and rising flames to see the battlefield clearly.

This was completely different from fending off the Demon army’s attacks from the well-rested position in the permanent fortress at the canyon outpost. The supply line, deep behind the Demons’ front-line hub, had a supply station every few dozen kilometers.

The Demons would build these stations into small fortresses, garrisoned with large numbers of spellcasting priests and frenzied warriors to guard the war materials transported from the Demon Kingdom of the Northern Realm, deep within the barren lands.

Each of these fortress stations housed a giant Scout Eye-Demon. If one was attacked, the Eye-Demon would immediately send a warning signal through its psychic network to the other nearby stations, drawing a large number of Demon reinforcements to counterattack.

This was the main reason that every time the Federation dispatched small units of high-level casters to harass and raid the supply line, they would meet abnormally fierce resistance and often return empty-handed.

But today’s offensive was clearly different. After they advanced covertly near Supply Line No. 3, they didn’t encounter heavy resistance from demon armies. Franck flew alone above the supply fortress and decapitated the Scout Eye-Demon with a single powerful wind blade, stopping its continuous, shrill warning shrieks.

The battle to take the fortress lasted for nearly a quarter of an hour, and no Demon reinforcements from other stations arrived.

Soon, the mages of the Reconnaissance Corps had blasted through the fortress’s outer defensive walls. Large numbers of Demon frenzied warriors and hybrid demonic beasts poured out from the breach. The moment they appeared, they were individually picked off by the Guns of Annihilation, their bodies disintegrating and collapsing to the ground.

The destructive power of these Guns of Annihilation was truly fearsome… Franck thought, feeling a pang of regret. It seemed a bit of a waste to use these precious Annihilation Rounds on low-rank frenzied warriors.

If only they could train a squad of spellcasters specialized in using the Gun of Annihilation, pairing them with mystically enhanced eyesight and magical Eyes of Reconnaissance to form an assassination squad that specifically targets high-rank demon priests and hybrid demonic beasts.

It would be much better than the current situation in his corps, where casters were used to conventional spellcasting, had terrible aim with the Guns of Annihilation, and often wasted several rounds just to kill a single frenzied warrior.

He found this change in his own thinking somewhat amusing. Just a month ago, he still believed that reconnaissance mages should fight alone deep behind the Demon lines north of the Evil Moon Mountain Range, embracing certain death and fulfilling their glorious oath to defend human territory with their blood and lives.

If only we had possessed this weapon sooner, perhaps we wouldn’t have suffered such enormous casualties…

Franck looked at the Demon soldiers falling dead one after another in front of him, and couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow in his heart— The spellcasters of the Reconnaissance Corps were all loyal members from orthodox Federation backgrounds. Most of them came from the major magical academies in the south, or were chosen from wizard families loyal to the Federation’s orthodox faction.

They had given up the opportunity to be hired as spellcaster advisors by the secular nobility, given up a comfortable life in Araye or other wizard kingdom capitals, and resolutely rushed to the Evil Moon Mountain Range to resist the non-human invasion, only to sleep eternally and silently on the battlefield…

“Lord Franck!” the recon mage in charge of scouting shouted at him. “The Demons in the supply fortress have been wiped out, and we still haven’t seen any reinforcements from the other stations…”

Franck frowned and said in a deep voice: “Search the fortress carefully for any remaining Demon soldiers. Don’t let a single one who’s still breathing get away. No matter how badly injured they are, as long as their bodies are intact, they can be injected with the enhancement potion again and jump right back into the fight… We can’t leave them any effective strength to recover!”

He paused, then couldn’t stop himself from reprimanding them: “Tell the reconnaissance mages to save their Annihilation ammunition! Don’t forget their identities as battle mages! Can’t we kill those Demon soldiers with our own combat spells without the Guns of Annihilation? The Annihilation Rounds are to be used at critical moments!”

Because they were operating in a raid deep behind enemy lines, the Reconnaissance Corps rarely took demon prisoners. After all, without continuous injections of the enhancement potion, they would quickly weaken and die. It was a complete waste of time and energy to send them back to Blackstone City.

“What about the sealed enhancement potions left in the fortress? Do we destroy them all as usual?”

Only then did Franck remember what Reconnaissance Marshal Andre Weiss had repeatedly stressed before they set out—if they found the Demons’ enhancement potions on the supply lines, they must seize them intact and bring them back. They were an important raw material for accelerating the mass-production of Annihilation ammunition!

At this thought, his spirits lifted instantly. He ordered the waiting recon mages to quickly enter the ruined supply fortress and begin counting and transporting the potion storage canisters stored inside…

Perhaps the more storage canisters they captured, the more Annihilation ammunition their corps could be allocated. Then, in future operations, they would no longer have to worry about ammunition consumption!

Rainer stood beside several massive Magic Net teleportation arrays in the magical munitions factory. The soul fire in the eye sockets of his metal skull flickered erratically. He silently watched the large number of rust-covered storage canisters that kept appearing in the teleportation arrays…

The munitions factory’s production director stood beside him, wiping sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. He frowned and said: “What on earth is going on? For the past few days, the teleportation arrays have been constantly sending over piles of these junk iron cans. Some are empty, some still contain some low-quality liquid magical energy… The purity is very low, and we have to purify it again with the Blood-Awakening Instruments before we can use it… It’s such a hassle!”

Rainer sighed softly. “It’s fine. My Lord has given his orders. The empty canisters are to be sent to the Foundry for smelting, and the low-purity liquid magical energy should be sent to the Magic Motorcycle factory. Let them handle the re-purification…”

Anyway, my lord Harvey had said this was battle salvage sent by the Federation. They were to take it all, good or bad, since it didn’t cost a single coin. Who would complain about free metal materials… It would be good to re-forge them into civilian iron tools.

The production director nodded, then asked tentatively: “Lord Rainer, so… should we continue producing ammunition for the new weapon? The order quantities from the Federation are always so small. I only need to arrange one round of three shifts to complete the production task. Can’t they… just purchase a bit more each time?”

Ever since Harvey handed over the manufacturing of the Anti-Demon weapon, the Gun of Annihilation, to the Alchemical Exploration Society to give them a piece of the pie, the business volume of the pioneer territories’ munitions factory had plummeted. Normally, aside from repairing and maintaining the Territorial Army’s Magical Energy Guns, only two automated production lines operated by alchemical beasts were still running to produce Magical Energy Gun bullets.

And the Annihilation Rounds, which were only effective against Demons, were actually a byproduct of Magical Energy Round production. They didn’t even need to open a separate production line for it. The vast number of beetle carapaces, drained of their pure magical energy, could be used to create the Annihilation Rounds the Federation desperately needed.

The munitions factory, which used to be brightly lit and worked non-stop through the night, now couldn’t even run its five automated production lines at full capacity during the day. A large number of skilled workers who assisted the worker alchemical beasts were idle all day, sitting around the factory collecting their base salary.

In the Lord Harvey’s words…

“The Federation has no money to buy more. What can I do? I can’t let them pay in installments, can I?”

Rainer couldn’t help but recall taking inventory of the castle’s storerooms, the newly arrived chests full of gold pounds, and the various precious magical materials and refined magical ores the Federation had used to settle its debts…

“My lord… just how much is he selling a single Annihilation Round to the Federation for? Did he really bleed them dry?”

Chapter 229: Technological Monopoly

To be honest, Harvey hadn’t expected that the prices he’d set for the weapons and ammunition on a whim would cause an organization as vast as the Federation to find their funds stretched thin in such a short time.

The beetle Soul Cores used to manufacture the Guns of Annihilation were sold directly to the Esoteric Society at a price of five hundred gold pounds each. After they completed the production and assembly of the other components, they would then resell the finished weapons to the Federation for several times that price.

This was clearly a very reasonable price; after all, it was even cheaper than the standard-issue magic artifacts of the past.

But the problem certainly wasn’t the one gold pound price tag on each Annihilation Round…

Harvey felt that with over a century of accumulated wealth, the Federation shouldn’t have reached a point where they couldn’t even afford ammunition for the Guns of Annihilation. The most likely reason was that these noble Spellcasters had never used secular currency as a medium of exchange, which led to the embarrassing blunder of insufficient internal funds.

After all, whether it was the magical materials needed for daily research and experiments, or the rare minerals and plants used in crafting magic artifacts and potions, none of it could be easily obtained with just shiny gold pounds.

But Harvey had taken a different approach, insisting on payment in gold pounds for the first order. This truly left those otherworldly Federation Spellcasters scratching their heads.

Fortunately, the Alchemical Exploration Society, their close partner, had sufficient gold reserves. They occasionally accepted orders for alchemical weapons from nobles and didn’t mind being paid in common currency.

After the delivery of the first batch of ammunition, worth five thousand gold pounds, the Federation had to rely entirely on funds borrowed from the Alchemical Exploration Society to pay for the second batch of thirty thousand Annihilation Rounds. They even sent an urgent message requesting to use some of their magic materials to offset the procurement costs, which made Harvey not know whether to laugh or cry.

As for the low-quality spoils of war that the Federation kept sending over via teleportation array—the storage canisters for the secret elixirs used by the Demons’ frenzied warriors—Harvey refused to accept them as payment for the ammunition.

Otherwise, all the Demon-made junk the Federation captured in future combat operations would probably end up piling up in his territory’s warehouses.

Of course, the shiny coins stacking up in the warehouses were worthless if they just sat there. Only by keeping the capital in constant circulation could it bring tangible development to Harvey’s territory.

Rainer spread a thick ledger open on Harvey’s desk and said with a wry smile, “My lord, we’ve just finished counting the gold pounds sent to the storehouse. They need to be sent to the town’s trading post immediately. The people from the Dragonstone Merchant Guild are waiting for us to pay the advance…”

Soap factories, shipyards, sugar refineries, textile mills… Harvey had been endlessly signing off on construction permits for these new civilian production projects, and they were all launching one after another in the early autumn as the harvest season approached.

The Construction Department complained about labor shortages every day at City Hall meetings. The mines were operating on three shifts to speed up iron ore extraction, and several alchemical beasts had broken down from working twenty-four hours a day without rest.

The situation at the steel mills was even more grim. To complete the steel production quota approved by Harvey, many workers suffered from heatstroke in the gradually cooling early autumn due to the continuous high-temperature work. Every day, a steady stream of unlucky souls was carried off to the Territory’s Infirmary.

“We need people… We’re still desperately short on people…” Harvey mumbled anxiously as he scanned the work report from City Hall, circling and annotating various task clauses in red.

Astaren took a freshly brewed cup of hot tea from a personal guard and placed it gently on Harvey’s desk. After a moment of consideration, he spoke up. “My lord… in the alliance treaty we signed with the Federation, wasn’t there a cooperation agreement concerning population migration and the slave trade?”

Pierce frowned. “Slaves? You mean those Demon prisoners of war? I see no value in them. These Demon soldiers, who have been injected with enhancement potions, are extremely dangerous. They also need a constant supply of the potion, or they’ll become incredibly weak. We can’t spare Defense Force soldiers to watch over them while they work, can we?”

Harvey also shook his head with a wry smile. “The nations of the south banned the human slave trade long ago. Non-human prisoners of war have no value to us and would just be a waste of food to keep.”

He paused, then added thoughtfully, “When I proposed that cooperation clause, I was actually laying the groundwork for a series of future plans, a grandiose and legitimate-sounding reason in advance…”

Once the Federation obtained the Guns of Annihilation he developed, they were bound to continue their counteroffensive against the Demon invaders entrenched in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, just as they were doing now.

When their supply of weapons and ammunition became sufficient, and the battle mages and warrior squires had all adapted to this new mode of warfare, they would surely have a complete falling out with the Church and the conservative wizard kingdom factions. Using their combat record against the Demons as proof of their strength, they would formally declare to the human nations that the Federation of Casters was fully capable of acting as the backbone of humanity’s resistance against the Demon invasion and carrying the glorious burden of protecting the human race on its own.

In doing so, the foundation of faith and secular prestige that the Radiant Church had painstakingly built over centuries in the nations of the south was bound to collapse. To maintain the stability of their faith among the nobility and common folk, the conflict between them and the Spellcasters would surely intensify.

Regardless of whether powerful non-human enemies were waiting in the wings, humanity, as a high-level intelligent species, could never escape its long historical tradition of internal strife.

And the fence-sitters and conservative factions within the Federation, as well as the various pro-Church organizations in the seven wizard kingdoms, would be forced to pick a side. They would no longer be able to sit back and play both sides without a care.

As for the obstinate ones, they could only wait for the Federation’s orthodox Spellcaster faction to free up their hands and begin round after round of ruthless purges.

“Once this round of counteroffensives in the Evil Moon Mountain Range is over, the flames of war will ignite across the nations of the south. And this will be a conflict between Spellcasters and the Church; the nobles and commoners of the secular kingdoms will merely be dragged into it…”

Harvey stood up, walked to the window, and let out a soft sigh. He turned to look at Rainer, Pierce, and the others, who still didn’t quite grasp the crux of the matter, and said softly, “Once a war involving transcendent beings breaks out in the human nations of the south, a large number of civilians will be displaced. They will either flee in a panic to other regions where war has not yet erupted, or they will escape into the remote mountains and dense forests to hide. But as the flames of war gradually spread, and there is no safe place left in the entire south… our opportunity will arrive.”

…

Fell Hoden and Matthews Wiley hovered in mid-air, looking down at the completely destroyed Demon supply transit point below. They exchanged a look and burst into laughter in tacit understanding.

“That should be enough, right? Shouldn’t we be heading back? I’m almost out of magic stones… and I have very little ammunition left for the Gun of Annihilation. If we run into another Demon Ascendant, we might really end up leaving our lives here.”

This time, Fell didn’t refuse outright. Instead, he teased, “Matthews, in all the days we’ve been out here, you haven’t stopped nagging me to return for a single day. I’ve never seen a high-rank battle mage as cautious and afraid of death as you.”

He paused, his voice turning somber. “Have you ever considered why I’ve been delaying our return?”

Matthews was taken aback. He couldn’t help but say angrily, “You did it on purpose?”

Seeing his expression, Fell couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “You really are… We assassinated a high-rank Priest from the Church in Blackstone City! Even if we were clean enough not to leave any evidence, we still have to lay low for a while. Did you really want to stand there brazenly in front of those investigators every day?”

As Fell spoke, an expression of extreme disgust crossed his face, and his tone grew deeper. “Those sanctimonious and shameless scoundrels in the Radiant Church, even if they can’t find a shred of evidence, they’ll still secretly carry out all sorts of retaliatory actions against Spellcasters. Hmph, we were just giving them a taste of their own medicine…”

The two chatted for a moment longer when a Spell Messenger with fluttering wings suddenly materialized in the air beside them. It spat out a scroll sealed with a magic seal and then dissipated into ash.

“Heh, it’s from Andre Weiss, the Marshal of the Reconnaissance Corps. The operation to cut off the Demon supply line is over. He’s summoning us to rendezvous for support…”

By the time the two flew at full speed to the supply line battlefield, the fighting at all the supply fortresses along the way had already ended. Low-rank Spellcasters from the Reconnaissance Corps led large numbers of warrior squires, bustling about the ruined battlefield, continuously drawing blood from the recently deceased Demon soldiers and hybrid demonic beasts with the captured storage canisters.

Matthews asked in surprise, “What are they doing? Drawing the blood of Demon soldiers and demonic beasts? What could this stuff possibly be used for? Magical research experiments?”

Reconnaissance Marshal Andre Weiss walked over and gave a reserved nod in greeting to his two high-level caster colleagues. He explained with a smile, “I have no idea what this biological matter from non-humans, so thin in magic, is for. But since Araye made the request, we just have to comply…”

He paused, then lowered his voice. “However, I’ve heard that the mysterious partner who provides us with the Guns of Annihilation seems to be interested in all spoils of war originating from the Demons. Whether it’s the storage canisters, the blood of Demon soldiers, or the flesh and blood of hybrid demonic beasts, they’ll take it all without exception.”

Many of the Spellcasters who participated in the supply line raids were discussing in private that the manufacturing of the all-important ammunition for the Gun of Annihilation seemed to rely on the transformation of the Demons’ own flesh and blood. It was just that no one knew the specific formula or production method.

Fell raised an eyebrow at this and sneered, “What? Are there more self-important fools in our ranks who think they can crack the formula for the Annihilation Round based on mere speculation? Those idiots who can only see the tiny bit of profit right in front of them—have they just had a small taste of victory and already want to tear up our cooperation agreement and turn on our allies?”

A month ago, when the first batch of replica Guns of Annihilation from the Alchemical Exploration Society was delivered to the Federation, some had already begun to secretly spread certain opinions within the organization. They argued that, technologically speaking, this new energy weapon wasn’t that different from the mass-produced standard-issue magic artifacts of the past.

As soon as the ammunition for the weapons arrived, some immediately began proclaiming their desire to crack the manufacturing techniques and formula through experimentation. So much time had passed since then, yet they had made no progress whatsoever.

No matter how those research-type Spellcasters tested them, these Annihilation rounds, which resembled magic stone fragments, showed no special properties. And the mithril core that their partner sold to the Alchemical Exploration Society for manufacturing the weapons would be instantly destroyed upon disassembly, making it completely impossible to observe the magical fluctuations or the structure of the inscription arrays within.

It seemed their only option was to grit their teeth, pay up, and honestly purchase the weapons from their mysterious partner’s agent.

Chapter 230: The Wolf-Form Mage

The sun hung low on the horizon, and night was about to fall.

A squad of Church priests in pure white robes and knights from the Army of Judgment were setting up a temporary camp for the night on an open, flat piece of ground beside the road.

Several bonfires were soon lit in the camp. A few knights of the Army of Judgment, having removed their heavy armor, bustled around the fires, adding firewood and boiling water.

A young acolyte, carrying a kettle of hot water, walked over to a middle-aged priest. “My lord, we’ve run out of tea leaves. Please have some hot water…”

The middle-aged priest frowned slightly, a hint of impatience in his voice. “We should reach Jackdaw Town tomorrow, right? All this traveling and sleeping in the open is utterly exhausting.”

The acolyte sat cross-legged beside him and said in a low voice, “Yes. If we set out at dawn, we could reach Jackdaw Town by noon at the earliest… But I still don’t understand. When we passed through Grizzly Keep, why didn’t we enter the city to rest? Isn’t Earl Fegan of Grizzly Keep a devout follower of the Church?”

“Earl Fegan? Hmph, he is indeed a devout follower… But due to certain past events, he offended the Federation and had to personally travel to the capital of St. Valen to plead his case and negotiate. He only just returned to his domain a few days ago and was immediately placed under the Federation’s surveillance. He’s in an awkward position right now. How could he have time to host us?”

The young acolyte finally understood. He couldn’t help but ask, “So… is our mission to Jackdaw Town related to Earl Fegan’s situation? The Federation is harboring a Necromancer, allowing him to conduct bloody and evil magical experiments in secret…”

The priest nodded, concisely explaining the true purpose of their journey. Ostensibly, they were on a routine missionary tour of St. Valen’s borders. In reality, they were secretly investigating this blasphemous incident involving a Necromancer. After all, with a witch hunter involved, it was unlikely to be a baseless rumor.

“The Divine Punishment Faction may be extreme in their methods, but they will never let any evil wizard who blasphemes my Lord go free. Although most people don’t openly support their violation of the peace treaty, they absolutely approve of it in private,” the middle-aged priest said with a solemn expression.

Moreover, according to a source the Church had planted within the Federation, this Necromancer hiding in Jackdaw Town had another, unknown identity—he was the author who had recently anonymously published a magical research paper in the Federation’s official bulletin, openly slandering the Church’s God-given bloodlines ceremony and claiming it was of the same origin as the evil frenzy potions of the Demons!

A Necromancer adept in high-rank alchemy, who had successfully deciphered and replicated the formula for the bloodline enhancement potion, was disguising himself as a low-rank Spellcaster and hiding on the frontier of the southern kingdom. He had managed to avoid the Church’s long-standing focus on such targets. To say that this didn’t involve a secret conspiracy among the Federation’s upper echelons was something not even a fool would believe.

If not for the attack by that anonymous witch hunter, and Earl Fegan’s subsequent targeting by the Federation, the Church would not have so quickly connected the author of the research paper, who went by the alias “Kel’Thuzad,” with a low-rank Necromancer hiding on the border of Jackdaw Town.

“But by doing this, we’re directly escalating the conflict with the Federation. It won’t be easy to find enough evidence to convict a Spellcaster who has their secret protection…” the young acolyte said, his tone thick with worry.

“Evidence for a conviction? No, we don’t need to go through a tedious investigation and endless reports, nor do we need to inform those two-faced magic politicians from the Federation beforehand. For any Mage who blasphemes the glory of the divine and dares to covet the authority of the light, my Lord has already pronounced his guilt. We are merely the agents carrying out the judgment,” the priest replied with a faint smile.

Accompanying them on this trip, aside from a few young acolytes and clerics who were unaware of the crucial details, the rest of the team consisted almost entirely of bloodline knights secretly placed by the Divine Punishment Faction. There were a full seven mid-rank knights and one high-rank knight. The middle-aged priest leading the group was himself a high-rank battle priest who had retired from Blackstone City several years ago.

“Alright, I’m telling you the truth because I’ve seen your devout faith in my Lord. After all, you’re a child who has followed me for a long time, and I’ve always been optimistic about your future.” The middle-aged priest patted the young acolyte’s shoulder reassuringly. “Tonight is our last night sleeping in the wild. Once we reach Jackdaw Town tomorrow, our hardships will be over.”

After a simple dinner, the group gathered around the bonfires for their daily prayers, led by the middle-aged priest. The high-rank knight commander, who had been silent the whole time, casually appointed a few members of the Army of Judgment to take turns keeping watch. The remaining clerics and acolytes quickly retired to their tents to sleep.

The young acolyte was no exception. After forcing himself to read a few pages of scripture by the fire, he too wearily returned to his tent, extinguished his oil lamp, and lay down fully clothed.

He drifted off, unsure how much time had passed, when a faint thud of something heavy hitting the ground reached his ears—as if someone had tripped while getting up in the night. But he didn’t hear a cry of pain from the fallen person. Instead, there was a second thud soon after.

This time, he also heard the crisp clang of metal armor hitting the ground. It was faint, but it definitely wasn’t his imagination.

People were falling one after another? Was it the knights from the Army of Judgment on watch? Only they would be wearing armor at night…

The young acolyte’s eyes snapped open. He sat up and reflexively fumbled beside his cot in the darkness but couldn’t find a suitable weapon. After all, he was only an apprentice liturgical priest, not even proficient in casting the simplest healing prayer or Radiant Divine Magic.

But his hand finally closed around something hard—an extinguished metal oil lamp.

He slowly crept to the flap of his tent. Just as he was about to lift a corner to secretly peer outside, the high-rank knight commander’s angry roar echoed through the camp. “Enemy attack! Knights of the Army of Judgment! Engage! Rally to me! Quick!”

The warning shout shattered the stillness of the night, and the camp instantly erupted into chaos.

It was followed by a loud crash, and the dry earthen ground trembled slightly.

The knight commander’s continuous shouts and commands came to an abrupt end!

Amid the cacophony of panicked cries and angry curses, the heavy panting of a beast was clearly audible. The young acolyte could no longer resist lifting a corner of the tent flap… The high-rank knight commander of the Army of Judgment was pinned firmly under the thick foot of a terrifying, humanoid giant beast. Blood gushed from the gaps in his half-donned armor, soaking the dry ground around him.

This terrifying, upright humanoid beast, standing a full three or four meters tall, was the attacker!

Its entire body was covered in thick black fur. Its limbs were incredibly stout, and with a casual swipe of its sharp claws, it sent a knight charging forward with a sword flying. Three deep gashes were left on his hard, steel breastplate.

The strangest part was its beast-like head. It was an enormous, gray-black wolf’s head, with triangular wolf eyes that glowed with an azure light. Its slightly open jaws revealed a blood-red tongue and sharp teeth, and its pointed ears were angled toward the sides of its head.

“A werewolf! Why is there a werewolf here?” A low gasp escaped the young acolyte’s lips, which immediately drew the wolf-like beast’s attention. It turned its head, and its bestial face twisted into an unnervingly human-like expression—one of ridicule and disdain.

Two more knights charged, but their resistance was utterly futile against the wolf-form beast. One swipe of its claws tore open a knight’s chest and abdomen, and hot blood and viscera spilled onto the ground.

It grabbed another knight by the neck, lifted him into the air, brought him to its massive, blood-red maw, and bit down. The sound of flesh and bone grinding together immediately sent a chill down the spines of the others.

“It’s an evil wizard! It’s a wizard’s transformation magic!” The middle-aged priest also rushed out of his tent and joined the clustered knights of the Army of Judgment, who formed a protective circle around him.

His eyes were bloodshot as he stared at the werewolf standing in the center of the camp. His lips moved in a silent prayer, and he brought his hands together to cast an offensive divine art, but he suddenly trembled violently and spat out a mouthful of blood as if from a magical backlash.

“An Anti-Magic Domain! They’ve… set up an Anti-Magic Domain around the camp!”

Only then did the young acolyte realize why the high-rank knight commander had been killed so easily by the evil Mage transformed into a werewolf. It was because he couldn’t activate his body’s bloodline abilities at all. No wonder the attacker dared to take on a group of bloodline knights single-handedly. It had set up an Anti-Magic Domain nearby beforehand.

It had other accomplices nearby, equally powerful and strange Spellcasters!

“Get the Lord Priest out of here!” one of the knights roared in a deep voice. “Forget the acolytes and clerics, scatter and flee! All knights, hold your ground and fight! Your duty is to hold back this evil wizard!”

With that, he charged the werewolf with his sword, followed closely by two knights who hadn’t even had time to fully don their armor.

Four or five knights already lay dead in the camp, all disemboweled by the werewolf wizard’s claws. The remaining knights changed their tactics, using the tents as cover to encircle it and fight on the move, striving to buy more time for the others to escape.

The young acolyte immediately bolted from his tent, rushed to the middle-aged priest’s side, and helped him up. The priest was clearly suffering from the backlash of the Anti-Magic Domain. His face was pale, and his body swayed, forcing him to lean his full weight on the acolyte’s thin shoulders as they stumbled slowly out of the camp.

“Flee towards Jackdaw Town! Follow the main road. There are some freight posts and courier stations along the way. The attacking Spellcasters won’t dare to openly attack us in front of civilians, unless they want all-out war!” the middle-aged priest ordered weakly, coughing up another mouthful of blood.

The sounds of battle gradually faded into the distance. In the moonless darkness, the acolyte helped the priest find the main road under the dim sky. But he was cautious, not walking directly in the middle of the road, but picking his way carefully through the dense thicket of trees at its edge.

If the attackers were high-level casters, they would certainly use flight spells to search for the scattered clerics and priests. On a night without a bright moon, it wouldn’t be easy to spot them from high in the air.

After walking another few hundred meters, the light from the camp’s bonfires faded from view. The acolyte breathed a small sigh of relief. It seemed the enemy wasn’t pursuing them in their direction, or perhaps the knights of the Army of Judgment were still holding them off.

Chapter 231: A Special Welcoming Gift

“My lord, what should we do now?” the acolyte asked.

It was the first time he had encountered such a terrifying attack, especially one involving the Church’s mortal enemies, evil mages. He was completely unable to calm down and think clearly, his expression fraught with panic.

“The magic artifact the enemy used to set up the anti-Anti-Magic Domain has an extremely wide range. We must leave this area as quickly as possible and find a hidden spot out of the wind. I need to recover from the backlash of my divine arts first. If the attacker was just that shapeshifting mage from before, I have some confidence I can fight him…”

The Priest made a cautious decision. “We’re not going to Jackdaw Town anymore. Once I’ve recovered, we’ll turn right back to Grizzly Keep and seek support from the Church branch there.”

“Not going to Jackdaw Town? We have a church there too! The journey back to Grizzly Keep is much farther than heading to Jackdaw Town.”

The Priest shook his head. “We can’t go… The attack was too coincidental. Doesn’t this just prove that the Federation has been secretly monitoring this area? There must be a massive conspiracy at play. The small church we established in Jackdaw Town is only garrisoned by two or three low-rank priests and clerics. I’m afraid they’ve already been captured by these Spellcasters…”

“You have a point. This is the first time I’ve ever been in such a dangerous situation. If it weren’t for you…” The acolyte stopped mid-sentence, his eyes staring blankly at the woods beside the road.

The middle-aged Priest’s heart sank, and he followed the acolyte’s gaze.

A figure in a black mage’s robe slowly emerged from the dark woods. The mage’s hood perfectly concealed the person’s face in the gloom, but their slender frame suggested they were female.

She raised one hand, revealing a round, crystalline sphere clutched in her palm. The surrounding light seemed to brighten considerably. Above the mysterious, seemingly female mage’s head, an image of a brilliant, sparkling starry sky suddenly appeared.

“Blasphemer! Evil wizard!” the Priest cursed, his face pale as he gritted his teeth.

“Evil?” The mysterious mage spoke, and indeed, it was an exceptionally soft and beautiful female voice, but her tone was icy and devoid of any emotion. “Attacking and killing law-abiding research Spellcasters without cause, secretly gathering young children for lewd amusement, colluding with nobles to swindle money from devout believers… Who is the truly evil one here?”

The young acolyte couldn’t help but tremble as he retorted, “Nonsense! Those research mages were frequently conducting twisted experiments that blasphemed the gods! They deserved the Church’s righteous judgment! And… and those children, they were all orphans without parents, or from impoverished families! If the Church hadn’t taken them in, they would have starved to death on the streets! The believers… the believers’ offerings are voluntary donations from the heart. There is no such thing as colluding with nobles!”

The female mage sneered. “That set of brainwashing tactics you always use is certainly effective. It not only deceives the ignorant common folk but also allows your own people to hypnotize themselves.”

She raised the crystal sphere in her hand. “Since you believe so firmly in your actions, why don’t I send you to the God of Glory’s heavenly kingdom?”

Before her words had even faded, the brilliant reflection of the stars above her head burst into light. The flares falling from the dots of starlight refracted into prisms of rainbow light, shooting straight toward the Priest and the acolyte.

The young acolyte was so stunned by the dazzling brilliance that he froze on the spot. But the middle-aged Priest suddenly gave his shoulder a hard shove, pushing him into the path of the incoming rays of light while he himself scrambled to roll out of the way.

In a flash, an arm, with half a shoulder blade still attached, fell to the ground. Blood gushed from the massive wound on the acolyte’s shoulder. The tearing pain finally registered a few seconds later, and his vision went black as he nearly lost consciousness. Unable to keep his balance, he fell heavily to the ground, rolling and wailing in agony.

Trapped within the anti-Anti-Magic Domain, the high-rank Priest was unable to use even a sliver of his divine arts. Even though he had used the young acolyte to block one of the opponent’s attacks, he couldn’t buy enough time to escape.

His face ashen, the middle-aged Priest stared at the acolyte, who lay on the ground, missing an arm and gradually growing silent. With a trembling hand, he pulled a golden sigil from his robes and roared in desperation, “I am a high-rank Priest here to investigate St. Valen under the decree of a Cardinal Archbishop! I am from Goris, in the City of Grace! If you kill me, are you trying to restart the all-out civil war between the Federation and the Church?”

The female Spellcaster sneered. Before the Priest on the ground could say anything more, she waved her hand, releasing a gauzy mist of light. The moment the mist left her hand, it shattered into several glass-like crystal shards that instantly sliced across the middle-aged Priest’s neck.

A dull thud sounded as the head hit the ground.

…

Using Mage Hand, “the Astrologer” Melissa Peña dragged the two lifeless Church priests back to the temporary camp by the road.

Her companion, the mage who had transformed into a werewolf, had just finished his bloody massacre inside the camp.

“Jin, I’m not complaining, but the way you do things… cleaning up this scene is going to be a hassle.” Melissa frowned at the devastated camp and couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

The werewolf mage’s bones cracked and popped, and his massive, three-to-four-meter-tall beast form quickly reverted to the appearance of a slender, scholarly young man. It was none other than Melissa’s classmate and best friend—“Eye of Illusion” Jin Gavin.

Stretching his sore and aching body after the transformation, Jin chuckled lightly. “What’s so troublesome about this…”

He immediately crouched down, pressing his palms firmly against the blood-soaked earth. He silently chanted an incantation, and soon the surrounding ground began to tremble violently. The soil suddenly churned and sank, burying the entire camp along with the dozen or so bodies of the Church’s Judgment Army and the priests.

Jin clapped his hands and stood up, shrugging. “Don’t give me that look. You’re no better. I could see the commotion from your starlight magic all the way through the forest. Truly the brightest lamp in the dark night!”

He scuffed his foot on the dirt, which still reeked of blood. “Burying them doesn’t seem quite right either. The smell is a bit too strong… And this is right by the main road, where people often stop to rest for the night.”

Melissa fought the urge to roll her eyes again. She looked up at the gray sky and murmured to herself, “It should be fine. There’s a storm coming in an hour. One good wash and there won’t be any trace left.”

Jin paused, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. “You star mages…”

Since the human weather forecast predicted a heavy downpour, the two decided not to linger. They cast flight spells and soared into the air, heading toward Jackdaw Town, several dozen kilometers away.

…

“Doing this counts as helping that Mr. Kel’Thuzad solve a big problem, right?” Jin couldn’t help but turn his head to ask his friend as they flew.

“Hmm… from the perspective of his identity being exposed, yes, it’s definitely a problem. After all, once that research paper was published, it caused extreme dissatisfaction and opposition from the Church. They repeatedly and forcefully demanded that the Federation reveal the author’s identity,” Melissa said after a moment’s thought.

“Besides, we didn’t do it on purpose. We just happened to run into them. If we hadn’t been carrying the anti-Anti-Magic device Benoit gave us, it wouldn’t have been so easy to deal with this group. They had a high-rank bloodline knight and a battle priest among them!”

It was an unexpected coincidence. Not long ago, these two high-level casters were in the Duchy of Faros. During the dangerous operation to rescue their teacher, they were forced to seek the help and protection of Observer Neumann from the Forum.

They owed such a massive favor, but the other party didn’t immediately state their demands or the price for repayment, which had left the three of them tossing and turning, unable to sleep at night.

Fortunately, that anxiety didn’t last long. Soon, a bombshell dropped on the Spellcaster Forum—the mysterious organization that founded the Forum had signed a cooperative alliance with the Federation of Casters and had directly chosen the genius Spellcaster known as Kel’Thuzad from the Forum to be their cooperative agent in the south.

Afterward, Observer Neumann had also contacted “the Astrologer,” “Eye of Illusion,” and “Mithril Unicorn” individually, assigning them a rather perplexing mission—travel thousands of kilometers to the Duchy of St. Valen and meet with the Forum’s agent, Mr. Kel’Thuzad, in a small border town called Jackdaw Town, located near the Spine of the Continent Mountains.

The alchemist Benoit Kevin, with the handle “Mithril Unicorn,” chose to stay behind at his manor in Faros. Although their teacher, Duncan, had been successfully rescued, he was now severely disabled, with all his limbs severed, and needed someone to look after him and handle his subsequent treatment. Benoit, who was skilled at concocting alchemical potions, was undoubtedly the most suitable person for the job.

Naturally, the mission to travel to St. Valen and meet with Kel’Thuzad fell to “the Astrologer” Melissa and “Eye of Illusion” Jin Gavin.

As it turned out, on their way there, they happened upon this sneaky group composed of the Church’s Judgment Army and priests. Using Melissa’s expertise in stellar divination and a parasite spell, they overheard that the group intended to harm Kel’Thuzad. Right then and there, they decided to go all the way, launching a surprise attack to silence them for good.

“To think that the worms within the Federation would directly leak Mr. Kel’Thuzad’s true identity to the Church, bringing him trouble from the Church’s Divine Punishment Faction. These Fence-sitters and traitors of the Spellcaster world are truly despicable!”

Jin chuckled softly. “Goris is thousands of kilometers away. By the time they discover these people are missing, it will probably be several months from now. By then, the Federation will likely have already torn off all pretenses with the Church and be in the middle of a full-blown conflict. No one should have the spare resources to trouble Mr. Kel’Thuzad.”

Moreover, they had done their best to cover up the crime scene, leaving no survivors who could have escaped to report what happened. All in all, they had handled it very thoroughly.

“I wonder if that Mr. Kel’Thuzad is an easy person to get along with in real life. After all, he has the status of a Forum agent. Although we’re also high-level casters, we should still show him the proper respect.” Melissa knew her best friend had always been carefree, so she couldn’t help but remind him, “Mr. Observer will surely have new missions for us later. When it comes to Forum matters, we should defer to Mr. Kel’Thuzad’s judgment and not act on our own like we did today.”

Jin nodded with a slight smile. “Don’t worry! I understand the dynamic. Getting rid of this bunch of troublemakers who came looking for him—isn’t that our welcoming gift to him?”

Chapter 232: The Informant

The Papal State, City of Grace—Goris.

In the hallowed hall of the Cathedral of Splendor, the Pope’s throne, high above all, sat empty.

Three cardinals sat side by side, silently watching the other cardinals arguing below.

Tosa Ismael frowned and was the first to speak. “So, there’s no question about the authenticity of the intelligence provided by our informant inside the Federation?”

“That’s right. The author of that research paper, the one using the alias Kel’Thuzad, is a registered Necromancer with the Federation! Hmph, but the low-rank Spellcaster designation in his file is clearly a front to conceal his true identity.”

“Low-rank? A Necromancer? Doesn’t the Federation always discriminate against and ostracize that faction internally? That would be a good way to hide in plain sight…”

Ismael held up a stack of white paper, gesturing for an attendant to take it and distribute it to the other bishops.

“Name: Harvey Floyd. Born in Goldshine City, the capital of the Duchy of St. Valen. His grandfather was an ordinary knight in the city guard. His mother died of illness when he was young, and his father, a Probationary Knight, died from falling off his horse while drunk when Harvey was sixteen… He sold his inheritance to hire a retired court magic advisor as his first teacher, then was admitted to a local Necromancy Academy in St. Valen. Oh? He apparently scraped together his tuition through loans.”

“His record is spotless. There’s no sign of him being secretly cultivated by the Federation.”

“No, look carefully at what comes after… The problem arises after his graduation. Instead of returning to his hometown of Goldshine City, he traveled alone to a remote town on the border of the Duchy of St. Valen and established a magic laboratory there…”

Cardinal Bamoa sneered dismissively. “What’s so strange about that? Don’t those people who deal with corpses all day long love to hide in dark corners, tinkering with their evil magical research?”

“That is precisely what’s strange. Not long after he arrived in that border town, he offended the Federation’s investigator stationed there. I’ve reviewed the duty report sent back from the church in Jackdaw Town a year ago. There was a time when commoners reported to both the Church and the Federation that he was luring people into participating in his necromantic experiments…”

These actions did not seem suspicious in themselves. Necromancers always operated on the fringes of the forbidden—secretly robbing graves, raising living corpse puppets that would go on rampages and injure people, or having laboratory leaks that caused corrupting plagues to contaminate the local area… all of this was quite commonplace.

As the cardinals with the detailed intelligence report patiently continued to read through the thick stack of documents, they gradually began to sense that something was amiss.

The Spellcaster investigator who had been making things difficult for him was suddenly assassinated after being dismissed from his post. The lord of Grizzly Keep, who had imposed a temporary tax on him, was reprimanded and placed under surveillance by the Federation. A witch hunter operating under a false name died violently at his experimental manor…

“Moreover… for some unknown reason, he secretly left Jackdaw Town over a year ago. Using a Pioneer’s Decree he purchased from the Earl of Grizzly Keep, he traveled to the barren lands north of the Spine of the Continent Mountains. Since then, his movements have been clandestine, and he has not reappeared in the south.”

A Knight Commander of the Army of Judgment stepped forward and bowed. “In addition to this, we have also investigated that the Dragonstone Merchant Guild, backed by the Salas Family, has been in close, clandestine contact with him. Someone witnessed caravans from the Dragonstone Merchant Guild traveling back and forth to Jackdaw Town, seemingly transporting large quantities of supplies toward the barren lands…”

Ismael nodded and explained to the other bishops, “Chief Inquisitor Felipe is responsible for monitoring Spellcasters for prohibited activities in St. Valen. He already dispatched an investigation team to St. Valen half a month ago. They should be arriving there around now. We just need to wait quietly for the results of their investigation.”

The grim-faced Chief Inquisitor Felipe stepped out from the crowd and responded in a low voice, “Your Grace, please forgive me for acting on my own authority. The directive I gave the investigation team was to carry out divine punishment on that Necromancer, regardless of the specific outcome. Among the personnel accompanying the team is a high-rank bloodline knight who will be responsible for completing this task.”

Cardinal Bamoa clapped his hands. “No matter. The Necromancer faction has always been this way. Furthermore, under the Federation’s instruction, he publicly published such blasphemous words. Even under the pressure of the alliance between our two sides, he should be made to pay the price he deserves!”

Ismael remained noncommittal about this arrangement. Compared to the recent turmoil in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, a Necromancer hiding beyond the country’s borders was not worthy of too much of his or the other cardinals’ attention.

“Does the informant in the Federation have any other important intelligence to pass on?”

The few chief inquisitors responsible for intelligence liaison fell silent for a moment. In the end, it was Felipe who stepped forward and said gravely, “The informant… he also mentioned a secret collaboration between the Federation and a certain mysterious spellcaster organization. This is closely related to their recent independent military operations in the Evil Moon Mountain Range…”

Bamoa shot to his feet, pressing urgently, “I knew it! Their recent actions in the Evil moon Mountain Range, and the rumored mysterious magic artifact created specifically to target Demons—who are they cooperating with? Those High Elves hiding in the east? Or the Sea-folk, who have never had dealings with us?”

Felipe paused, looking somewhat troubled. “The informant did not reveal the full truth of the matter. He… he wants to seek asylum, and he has made a request… He wants His Holiness the Pope to personally preside over a Rebirth Ceremony for him.”

The hallowed hall was instantly plunged into silence.

Ismael’s soft chuckle echoed in everyone’s ears. “Heh, these so-called mages who chase after truth and knowledge… when their lives are nearing their end, they still have no choice but to kneel at the feet of the gods and beg for the grace of an extended life. How hypocritical and ironic…”

Bamoa hesitated. “Perform a Rebirth Ceremony for a Spellcaster? That’s preposterous… It takes us decades to cultivate a single Martyr, and one ceremony requires the lives of at least three Martyrs with no guarantee of success. His Holiness the Pope will never agree!”

Ismael said faintly, “No, if this intelligence is valuable enough, I don’t think His Holiness will refuse the request. If the mysterious magic artifact the Federation has acquired truly has a decisive effect on the war in the Evil Moon Mountain Range… we absolutely cannot stand by and watch. This concerns the Church’s foundation of faith and secular reputation in the south. This is our bedrock—we absolutely cannot let the faithful lose confidence in us!”

…

“What? They don’t know how to build them?” Harvey asked, sitting at his desk and looking at Rainer, who was holding a stack of work records.

Rainer cleared his throat pretentiously. “My lord, that is indeed the case. The director and workers at the shipyards were all transferred from the Industrial Department. They are all genuine people of the barren lands with clean records. Most of them have rarely even seen a small raft, let alone a large ship…”

The Northern Barren Lands had a fair number of rivers, but they were frozen for nearly half the year, making them completely unsuitable for navigation. The most skilled fishermen could do was lash some logs together to make a simple raft, just enough to float on the river and cast their nets.

Rainer’s tone shifted as he continued, “However, if you are willing to purchase a sailing ship from the south and have it transported to the territory for them to dismantle and study, they might be able to successfully replicate it…”

Halfway through his sentence, Rainer himself felt a bit awkward and trailed off.

Purchasing a sailing ship wasn’t difficult, but the problem was the Spine of the Continent Mountains, which lay between the northern and southern continents. Even if Harvey really paid for a ship, there was no way to get it to the north. There were no navigable rivers connecting the two regions, and a sailing ship couldn’t exactly grow legs and climb over the mountains.

Harvey buried his face in his hands and sighed deeply. “Contact George Santos of the Dragonstone Merchant Guild. Have him help us hire some experienced shipwrights, as well as sailors, helmsmen… We don’t need too many, just enough to teach our people how to build and pilot a sailing ship…”

“Um… I actually arranged for someone to contact him about this long ago. Mr. Santos said that absolutely no shipwrights or sailors would be willing to travel thousands of miles from their warm, humid coastal homes in the south, cross the mountains, and come to the Northern Barren Lands. It doesn’t matter how high the price is. After all, they don’t feel their lives would be safe. Unless… unless we kidnap them and bring them here by force.”

This statement left Harvey speechless. He could only get up and pace awkwardly around the study.

As the pioneer territories gradually developed and expanded, one of the most obvious problems was becoming increasingly apparent—insufficient ground transport capacity. The alchemical beasts that could carry goods could not be produced indefinitely. Apart from the Camel-oxen and reindeer most common in the barren lands, Harvey had not yet discovered any other species of large herbivores that could be captured and subjected to soul transfer on a large scale.

Moreover, the carrying capacity of the alchemical camel-beasts wasn’t very high. The territory’s mining site alone required him to commit nearly two-thirds of his alchemical beasts to transporting ore, not to mention the massive Storage Area and other manufacturing industries.

So, he had naturally turned his attention to the Icefield River, which bordered his territory. This river originated in the towering Spine of the Continent Mountains, flowed out from Raven Ridge, and plunged deep into the barren lands. The river was wide with an abundant flow of water. Except for the three months of deep winter each year when it was partially frozen, it was very suitable for navigation the rest of the time.

Halfway through their meeting, Chris the Alchemist rushed to the castle and joined the tense discussion.

“My lord, I’m more familiar with the situation in the south than Rainer is. As far as I know, there don’t seem to be any large workshops for shipbuilding in the entire Duchy of St. Valen, let alone in the border regions south of Raven Ridge.”

He walked enthusiastically to the wall, pointed at a map of the south, and patiently explained, “For the nations in the middle of the continent, most of the ships used for river transport are purchased from Faros. After all, that place is known as the Land of a Thousand Sails. They have countless official and private shipyards of all sizes.”

The problem circled back to the core difficulty: even if they found a way to buy a ship, they couldn’t get it back.

Harvey scratched his head, staring at the map on the wall, lost in thought.

In the end, did he, the Transmigrator, have to brute-force a solution himself?

He had Rainer find him a sheet of white paper for drawing, which he spread out and smoothed on the desk.

Based on what he had seen in various books, movies, and TV shows from his past life, combined with bits of information from sailing-themed video games online, Harvey could only tentatively list the construction specifications for the vessel.

A river-faring vessel would certainly have a shallower draft than a seagoing ship. Furthermore, the Icefield River was not a straight, fast-flowing channel. The water flow in spring and summer was immense, so the ship’s structure had to be stable and not prone to capsizing.

There was another, most crucial point: he had no skilled sailors or shipwrights. Therefore, whatever ship he built, even if it looked a bit strange, had to be easy to operate, so that the commoner workers responsible for piloting it could learn quickly after some simple training.

This meant that the masts, sails, and traditional rudder, which required experienced sailors and helmsmen to operate, had to be abandoned. In their place would be a propulsion system powered by magical energy, responsible for the ship’s forward movement and turning.

With this in mind, Harvey sketched out the new ship’s appearance with a few rough strokes, leaving Rainer and Chris completely bewildered.

“My lord, this… is this a ship? Why does it look like a giant pig feed trough?”

Harvey gave an awkward chuckle and explained, “The appearance isn’t important, as long as it’s practical. Besides… even if it is a pig feed trough, it’s a sturdy trough made of iron…”

Chapter 233: The Icebreaker

On the flat riverbank docks of the Icefield River, several simple workshops with roofs had been erected.

Dozens of skilled workers seconded from the Industrial Department bustled about inside, the continuous sounds of hammering and clanging echoing out.

Alchemical camel-beasts pulled carts full of shipbuilding materials, fresh from the steel mills, delivering them one after another to be stacked neatly inside the workshops.

Under Rainer’s direction, a few blacksmiths had already assembled the basic outline of the hull using steel rebar—a pointed, cone-shaped bow designed to reduce drag while also being effective for icebreaking in winter; a slightly wider midsection to increase carrying capacity; and a stern that tapered to a square shape, to facilitate the installation of a rudder linked to the magical energy power unit.

The entire vessel was about six meters wide and thirty meters long, with a more slender profile than a conventional river sailing ship. It completely abandoned masts and sails, with only a crude, unfinished cockpit pieced together from a wooden frame, leaving space for the magical energy power core to be installed later.

Normal wooden boats are typically waterproofed and sealed using resin and fish bladder glue, but Harvey’s iron ship obviously couldn’t use this method. Even with the highly adhesive rubber fruit, it was unlikely to bond steel effectively, meaning the iron ship could fall apart at any moment after launching.

Therefore, Rainer had to personally take charge. Using his ability to control alchemical souls, he led several work-type alchemical beasts, wielding magical energy welding torches to securely weld the ship’s steel rebar frame. Then, they attached thin iron plates delivered from the foundry to the hull’s frame, piecing together a bizarre-looking iron ship by hand-welding it.

Chris had already pre-coated all the metal materials used for the hull with a film of rubber fruit gel. This would serve as an effective waterproof and rustproof layer, preventing the strange vessel from being quickly ruined by rust and damage.

“This thing… can it really float on water?” Although Rainer had strictly followed Harvey’s instructions and personally completed the assembly and welding of the iron ship, he still couldn’t fully believe it. “My lord, if… if it sinks the moment it hits the water, we’ll have to salvage it. We can’t let all this steel rebar and iron plate go to waste.”

Chris, who was scurrying around the nearly completed hull with several alchemy apprentices and tinkering with something, couldn’t help but poke his head out and laugh at Rainer’s words. “You’ve followed my lord Harvey for so long, how can you have so little faith in his wisdom? I’m one hundred percent certain this ship will float on the river.”

He jumped down from the hold, took off his gloves, and walked over to Harvey and Rainer. “My lord, the magical energy power unit and the transmission for the steering wheel are installed.”

Harvey nodded, clapping his hands in satisfaction. “Have the workers apply another coat of waterproof rubber fruit gel to the hull. Once it’s dry, we can begin the sea trial immediately.”

The skilled workers assigned to the shipyard were completely bewildered by their tasks over the past few days. They could only numbly follow the commands of the territory’s steward, Rainer, and the Industrial Department’s technical consultant, Chris. Most of their time was spent on simple tasks like moving materials and applying the gel; they had no part in the actual welding and construction of the ship.

When they heard the Lord order them to push the huge iron pig feed trough, which had been pieced together in just a few days, into the water, they all stood frozen in stunned silence.

The side of the temporary shipbuilding shed facing the river was dismantled. On the sloped ramp that had been dug out beneath the iron ship, a large number of polished logs were laid down to act as rollers.

The workers used thick iron chains to secure the vessel, preventing it from sliding into the water too quickly. It would have been a complete waste if the bow had plunged straight to the riverbed.

Once all preparations were complete, over a dozen work-type alchemical beasts held the chains securing the ship taut. At Rainer’s command, the alchemical beasts slowly loosened the metal chains. The bottom of the iron ship began to slide over the logs, emitting a harsh, metallic scraping sound.

With a tremendous roar, the iron ship slid smoothly into the river. The waterline he had drawn on the hull beforehand was immediately submerged, but fortunately, about a meter of the hull remained above the water—a trivial miscalculation.

Everyone, including Rainer, stared dumbfounded at the scene. This iron pig trough, heavier than stone, didn’t sink to the bottom with a gurgle but instead bobbed and floated on the river’s surface.

The current of the Icefield River was extremely fast in early autumn. Harvey immediately called for Rainer to direct the alchemical beasts to tie the ship’s chains securely to the pre-poured concrete pillars, preventing his newly built vessel from being washed away.

Astaren, who was usually quiet in large gatherings, finally couldn’t help but speak, the shock in his voice unconcealed. “Why? Why can metal float on water? Did you inscribe some special spell matrix on the bottom of the ship?”

Chris, who had long since pestered Harvey for the principle behind it, couldn’t resist smugly showing off his knowledge. “Why can’t metal float on water? Mr. Astaren, you should be like me and learn more of the new knowledge of our era from the Lord, instead of clinging to those ancient historical texts. Not every phenomenon that ordinary people can’t comprehend can be attributed to extraordinary means… Sometimes, the wisdom of mortals can surpass the power of magic!”

That fellow Chris… he isn’t the least bit ashamed of parroting my exact words.

Harvey explained concisely, “Density… As long as the structural density of this ship is less than that of water, it will be able to float on the surface. It doesn’t matter if it’s made of wood or metal.”

Astaren didn’t press further, lapsing into silent contemplation. Harvey shook his head with a wry smile and continued to instruct Chris to have the workers begin the finishing touches on the hull.

Although the hull and frame were welded from steel rebar and iron plates, the internal cabins and deck couldn’t also be made of metal. They still needed to be constructed in the traditional way, laid with planks of pre-processed and planed wood from the logging factory.

The wood’s waterproofing and anti-corrosion treatment was also done with the all-purpose rubber fruit gel. The skilled workers were already familiar and proficient with this technique. They cautiously stepped onto the iron ship via a gangplank, and after discovering this iron pig feed trough was in no danger of capsizing, they immediately set to work with great enthusiasm.

Harvey also led Rainer and the others aboard the iron ship. Only then did he realize that when he was designing the vessel, he had focused too much on its main purpose of transporting cargo and hadn’t paid enough attention to other supporting facilities, a case of overlooking one thing while attending to another.

The cockpit at the stern was far too simple, no larger than a wooden shed of a few square meters. A large hole had been cut in the deck floor of the shed to connect to the magical energy power core installed in the compartment below, as well as the rudder transmission system designed by Chris.

“Turning this wheel will allow the iron ship to travel normally on the river at the desired speed and direction. It doesn’t need sails; just consume liquid magical energy like a Magic Motorcycle…” Chris chattered on, explaining the ship’s control system to Rainer and Astaren. Harvey had provided the idea, but Chris had been given full responsibility for its design and creation.

Rainer touched the wooden helm, his voice filled with surprise. “Then… this ship, doesn’t it only need one person to operate it? It doesn’t need any sailors or helmsmen at all. That’s incredible.”

Although that was what he said, once it was put into actual use, it would be impossible for a single person to steadily pilot a metal ship tens of meters long on the rushing Icefield River.

According to some popular science about ship navigation that Harvey recalled from his past life, the minimum crew for a small modern vessel was at least a captain, a first mate, and a sailor. If it needed to travel at night, an additional sailor would be required for watch rotation, while the captain and first mate would take turns piloting the ship.

Furthermore, for long-distance voyages, a technician who understood how to maintain and operate the magical energy power core would be needed to serve as a “magic version” of a chief engineer. Otherwise, if the power unit broke down, the iron-hulled ship would lose control and run aground or hit a reef.

However, Harvey had no plans for long voyages at present. After all, the navigable section of the Icefield River that passed through his territory only extended as far as the River Valley Outpost, a journey of no more than a day and a night, so he didn’t need to worry too much about power failures.

Once the military dock at the River Valley Outpost was built, the Northern Army would no longer have to endure a bumpy ride on slow War Beasts during their rotations. Traveling downstream by ship, they could reach the outpost in less than half a day, which was much more convenient and faster.

Harvey called Chris over and adjusted the design of the cabin section. He added a heating boiler and glass windows to the enclosed cockpit at the stern. Otherwise, when deep winter arrived, even if the ship could break through the ice on the river, the person piloting it from the cockpit would be frozen solid.

“After all the finishing touches are complete, pick a day with good weather and let’s have the official trial run! We’ll go from the territory’s dock to the River Valley Outpost; it’ll be a good chance to test its speed.”

…

After giving instructions for all the follow-up work, Harvey returned to the territory’s castle.

He had just sat down at his desk and hadn’t even had a sip of water when the Magic Brain device beeped, signaling a new message.

[The Astrologer: Mr. Kel’Thuzad, are you there? As per Observer Neumann’s request, we have arrived at Jackdaw Town on the border of St. Valen. When can we meet with you?]

“They’re fast…” Harvey couldn’t help but sigh. “It was only half a month ago that I used the Observer’s identity to request they come to St. Valen. I didn’t expect them to really not delay for a moment and arrive at Jackdaw Town so quickly.”

However, he had no intention of inviting the two high-level casters from the Forum directly to the pioneer territories. Doing so would easily expose the embarrassing fact that he was not a high-rank caster, and there were many things happening in his territory that still needed to be kept secret for the time being.

The reason he had them come to Jackdaw Town under the guise of Observer Neumann was simply to bypass the Federation and build an additional network of contacts. “The Astrologer,” “Eye of Illusion,” and “Mithril Unicorn” were not Spellcasters with Federation backgrounds, but rather independent Mages from ancient wizard families, backed by the Seven Wizard Kingdoms.

[Kel’Thuzad: My sincerest apologies, my experiment is at a critical juncture. You may need to stay in Jackdaw Town for a few days. I will contact you again as soon as possible to set a time to meet.]

[The Astrologer: No problem, we have plenty of time and can wait. However… there is something I may need to inform you of in advance… On our way to Jackdaw Town, we discovered that the Church has dispatched an armed investigation team. They are coming for you personally. Your real identity has been leaked by an informant within the Federation!]

Chapter 234: A New Visitor

“Someone inside the Federation… revealed my true identity to the Church?”

Harvey’s spirit was roused. He instinctively straightened up, staring at the text message on the Magic Brain’s crystal screen as he sank into thought.

Although the three Chiefs of the Federation, led by Mr. The Scorching Sovereign, had personally promised to keep his identity secret, allowing Harvey to publish his research papers anonymously.

But after the Spell Duel he personally attended in Araye, no matter how much Harvey disguised himself, certain high-ranking individuals with privileges within the Federation could still trace the clues back to his true identity if they wished to investigate.

However, Harvey wasn’t particularly afraid of his identity being exposed. By now, he had already laid the groundwork with a series of arrangements and had openly positioned himself as the “real-world agent” for the Spellcaster Forum. He no longer needed to hide and conceal things for the sake of his life and safety.

This was the main reason why he had used Observer Neumann’s identity to invite high-rank Spellcasters from outside the Federation for an offline meeting—what he urgently needed now were people who could solve his problems with the Federation’s internal factions and the Radiant Church. He needed “supernatural bodyguards” who were strong-handed and acted without scruples.

And as Observer Neumann’s “agents” and “followers,” these two high-rank Spellcasters were undoubtedly the most suitable candidates for the job.

[Kel’Thuzad: Thank you and Mr. Eye of Illusion for taking care of the trouble from the Church in advance. You’ve certainly done me a great favor…]

[The Astrologer: We were also acting under Mr. Observer’s instructions. It’s just… we’re still not entirely clear on his true purpose for arranging this meeting, or what he needs us to do.]

Harvey smiled slightly as he stared at the crystal panel and quickly typed.

[Kel’Thuzad: It’s simple. In fact, you’ve already completed part of the mission. As you know, I’m just a research-type Spellcaster. After having the honor of becoming the cooperative agent between the Forum and the Federation, my personal safety… is susceptible to certain threats. So, Mr. Neumann wanted to seek some corresponding security for me.]

“The Astrologer” and “Eye of Illusion” looked at each other in front of the Magic Brain device, expressions of sudden realization on their faces.

“So Mr. Observer guided us here to give us a mission… to be Mr. Kel’Thuzad’s bodyguards,” Jin lamented softly, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

Melissa nodded in agreement. “Yes, I thought it would be some unacceptable price to pay, but it turned out to be so simple. It seems we accidentally completed one of our duties when we took care of the trouble with the Church’s investigation team.”

[Kel’Thuzad: But I must apologize and inform you that I cannot yet allow you into my private Laboratory. This is a cooperative secret that must be kept confidential due to my status as an agent. So for now, you can only stay in Jackdaw Town for a period of time. When the time is right, I will arrange to meet with you…]

Jin frowned. “If he doesn’t meet with us, how are we supposed to complete the task of protecting him?”

Melissa, however, said thoughtfully, “There must be some parts of the cooperative pact between the Forum and the Federation that require strict confidentiality. We shouldn’t probe too deeply. Let’s just complete the protection work we’re responsible for, to avoid causing unnecessary trouble and angering Mr. Observer.”

For now, it seemed the main troubles this “agent” faced were from the conservative faction within the Federation, as well as various overt and covert hindrances and attacks from the Church. As long as the two of them secretly remained in Jackdaw Town and closely monitored all suspicious threats from the south, they should be considered to have completed Mr. Observer’s directive.

[The Astrologer: We understand what you mean. We’ll stay in Jackdaw Town from now on. If there’s any emergency, you can contact us at any time. We’ll meet when the time is right…]

…

Harvey shut down the Magic Brain device with satisfaction. He sat at his desk and pondered for a moment, then raised his hand to summon the personal guard who had been waiting at the door and gave him some instructions.

Yuliao, who had just been officially promoted to Police Superintendent of the pioneer territories’ Police Department, hurried to the Lord’s Castle in a crisp, dark gray uniform.

Harvey was busy reviewing work documents and greeted him without looking up, “You take a seat first. Give me a moment.”

Yuliao walked cautiously to the sofa and sat down. He subconsciously raised his mechanical arm to straighten the collar of his uniform, then placed both hands flat on his legs, sitting upright and still with his eyes fixed forward.

“Your mechanical prosthetic, are you used to it? Have there been any malfunctions? Is it being maintained regularly as required?” Harvey suddenly asked, startling Yuliao.

He had thought the Lord had summoned him to report on his work after his official promotion to Police Superintendent. He never expected the first question to be about his prosthetic, rendering the entire speech he had prepared in his mind useless on the spot.

“Thank you for your concern, My Lord… Uh, yes, I’ve adapted very well. There have been… no problems at all, whether at work or in daily life. I’ve also followed your instructions and go to the maintenance department for regular maintenance and calibration every month. I’m also supervising the other police officers who have had prosthetic transplants to ensure they have them regularly maintained…”

Harvey chuckled softly and waved his hand, signaling him not to be so tense. He asked in a warm voice, “I heard that Mr. Chris, the director of the Alchemy Experiment Department, still frequently comes to the Police Department to harass… er, to socialize with you all. Does this affect your daily work?”

Yuliao paused, his expression awkward. “Mr. Chris does visit the Police Department often… He even offered to help us disassemble our prosthetics and tune the parts! But we all remembered the confidentiality regulations and politely refused him.”

Harvey couldn’t help but roar with laughter. It was a long while before his expression turned serious again. “Alright, I have a special mission I want you to handle. This matter is a bit different from the work of the territory’s Police Department. I need you to…”

…

Jackdaw Town was a border town in the northernmost part of St. Valen. There was only one decent inn in town, and business was only slightly better during the golden autumn hunting season each year.

The high-quality animal pelts and the thrill of mountain hunting were enough to attract some of the surrounding minor nobles or manor lords for a holiday retreat.

Melissa and Jin, accustomed to lives of luxury, had no choice but to take a long-term lease on the most comfortable suite on the second floor of the town’s inn, “The Winterfrost.” From the living room window, they could perfectly observe the town’s busiest main street and the small square.

The Federation’s branch in Jackdaw Town and the Radiant Church’s chapel were situated on opposite sides of the main street.

“Compared to Erisburg and Goldshine City, this place is a complete backwater. Even the minor nobles with fiefs around here seem rather crude and shabby…” Jin said, leaning against the street-facing window with a mug of ale, teasing softly.

Melissa sat at the desk in the living room, engrossed in browsing some new academic literature in the Magic Encyclopedia via the Magic Brain device. Without looking up, she replied, “Compared to those noisy and bustling capitals, I prefer quiet places with fewer people. This is actually a nice place for a long stay. Anyway, ever since we got the Magic Brain devices, no matter where we are in the south, we won’t miss out on the cutting-edge information and important news of the magic world…”

The more one lived in a bustling, comfortable metropolis, the more constraints and restrictions a Spellcaster faced. Branches of the Federation and churches of the Church were scattered throughout the kingdoms south of the Spine of the Continent Mountains. Acting even slightly aggressively could easily attract the attention of both sides, and one would have to endure all sorts of harassment and investigations from time to time.

Besides, not all Spellcasters enjoyed getting entangled in the secular power vortex of nobles, wealthy merchants, and the various southern kingdoms. That would greatly hinder their pace in practicing magic and pursuing the truth.

Just as the two were idly chatting about the issue of whether Spellcasters should withdraw from or engage with the world, a soft knock suddenly came from the inn room door.

“Who is it?” Melissa immediately grew vigilant, put away the Magic Brain device, and walked to the door to ask in a low voice.

Jin also shed his devil-may-care expression and exchanged a look with Melissa, communicating quickly with their eyes.

Could it be that the Federation’s station in town had noticed their identities?

That shouldn’t be… Travelers like them, dressed in fine clothes and spending money lavishly, were usually subconsciously identified by the locals as young nobles seeking recreation in hunting. And a noble couple traveling alone, wishing not to be disturbed…

The Church was even more unlikely. In the few days they had been here, they had discovered that the Church personnel in Jackdaw Town lived in seclusion and hardly ever appeared in town.

“Esteemed guests, a personal attendant of a Mr. Kel’Thuzad is here to see you…” the inn servant’s voice came from outside the door.

Melissa’s brow twitched. She shot a look at Jin, who was standing by the window, then opened the door.

The inn servant bowed slightly, then turned and left, revealing a tall, upright young man standing behind him.

“Good afternoon to you both. I am Mr. Kel’Thuzad’s attendant, here on his orders to deliver a message… Please, just call me Yuliao.”

Melissa offered a polite but slightly cold smile and stepped aside to let Yuliao into the room. She asked cautiously, “We have another way to contact Mr. Kel’Thuzad directly. Why did he send you to deliver a message in person?”

Yuliao glanced around the room and saw a slender young man with a thin face standing by the window. He looked to be in his early thirties and seemed a good match for the veiled young woman before him.

However, his expression seemed somewhat unfriendly. With one hand behind his back, his bright eyes stared straight at Yuliao, exuding a dangerous, almost bestial air.

Yuliao quickly placed the leather case he had been carrying onto the coffee table. While undoing the latches, he explained, “Mr. Kel’Thuzad instructed me to bring an alchemical device he designed and manufactured and ordered me to demonstrate it to you both in person. That’s why I couldn’t simply show it to you through our other means of contact…”

“An alchemical device? A personal demonstration for us?” Melissa’s curiosity was instantly piqued. She walked quickly to the coffee table. “Mr. Kel’Thuzad didn’t tell us beforehand. What is this…?”

She stopped mid-sentence, staring blankly at the item in the case—it was an exquisitely crafted mechanical prosthetic, brimming with the aesthetic beauty of its metallic lines.

Only then did Yuliao slowly continue, “Mr. Kel’Thuzad learned that your teacher’s limbs were severely injured and crippled in an accident, to the point that not even nature-based healing magic or alchemical potions could restore them… So, he would like to ask if you would be willing to let your teacher undergo a prosthetic transplant surgery…”

Jin strode forward, his trembling voice cutting Yuliao off, “Im… impossible. Alchemical bodies cannot be transplanted onto living people. This is common knowledge among most Spellcasters. The Esoteric Society has made no progress in this research. The experimental subjects who underwent the surgery all had to suffer through amputation again, and many died because of it!”

Melissa also said in a low voice, “That’s right. I’ve discussed this with Benoit before. After the surgery, the transplant recipient quickly experiences a rejection reaction. The wound where the prosthetic is attached will fester irreversibly, and the pain is several times more severe than when they lost the original limb…”

Yuliao did not argue or explain. Instead, he slowly rose from the sofa, removed the leather gloves from his hands, unbuttoned his formal long coat, and gently rolled up the cuff of his right sleeve, revealing a mechanical prosthetic arm that gleamed with a brass-colored metallic luster and was covered in strange patterns.

Chapter 235: A Gesture of Goodwill and a Promise

This… this is an alchemical prosthetic? Transplanted onto the living person before him… an alchemical prosthetic!

Losing his composure, Jin rushed to Yuliao’s side. He yanked up the man’s sleeve, which had only been rolled to his wrist, exposing the entire brass-colored mechanical arm.

Yuliao pressed his lips together and remained silent, allowing the young man to pull his sleeve all the way up to where the severed limb was grafted and healed at the elbow.

“It really is a prosthetic transplant! By the Arcane! Melissa, look! The area where the limb was grafted shows no signs of rotting or necrosis! How on earth did they do this? Which alchemy Master performed the surgery for you?”

Melissa sighed at her friend’s incoherent rambling and gave Yuliao an apologetic look. “Mr. Yuliao, I wonder if you could share the details of the prosthetic transplant surgery. It is extremely important to us.”

Yuliao nodded and, following the script Harvey had given him beforehand, began to speak slowly in a deep voice. “My arm was disabled in an accident over a year ago. It’s been about half a year since the surgery was completed. Aside from some difficulty adjusting at the beginning, my daily life is no different from any other able-bodied person. The mechanical arm is just a bit stronger…”

He paused for a moment before continuing, “If you’re asking how it was done, I can only apologize, as I don’t know the details myself. The transplant surgery required the cooperation of Mr. Kel’Thuzad and several esteemed spellcasters. There was also a master of healing spells who assisted in the operation.”

Jin, still holding Yuliao’s mechanical arm, turned to Melissa. “This gentleman is not a Spellcaster; he’s just an ordinary experimental subject. There’s no way he would know the specific details of the experiment. But I’m willing to bet that Mr. Kel’Thuzad must have obtained this extraordinary technology from the Forum!”

He then composed himself, managing to rein in his excitement, and said politely to Yuliao, “Please forgive my rudeness just now, Mr. Yuliao. Would it be possible for you to demonstrate your control over the prosthetic limb…?”

Yuliao nodded. He raised his mechanical arm, flexing and extending it a few times. Then, he fluidly clenched and unclenched his fist repeatedly. Finally, he grasped the heavy three-seat sofa in the inn’s living room with one hand, lifting it with ease before setting it back down.

“Are there any side effects after the surgery? Any discomfort or rejection reactions?” Melissa asked cautiously.

Yuliao shook his head, answering honestly as Harvey had instructed. “There are no side effects… well, except that I couldn’t control my strength properly at first and accidentally crushed a colleague’s shoulder blade… But with practice, you get used to it quickly…”

“Melissa, our teacher can be saved!” Jin exclaimed with a long, excited sigh. “I wish I could fly back right now, bring our teacher here, and have Mr. Kel’Thuzad perform the transplant surgery for him immediately…”

Melissa placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a look that told him to control his emotions. Then she turned back to Yuliao. “So, what price must we pay for Mr. Kel’Thuzad to perform this transplant surgery?”

“Price? My lord made no such demands. He just asked me to tell you both that this is a small gesture of goodwill and a reward in advance for your assistance in the time to come… You don’t need to pay any price.”

Melissa and Jin exchanged a quick glance, the same thought flashing through both their minds almost simultaneously.

Kindness and help offered for no reason create the most difficult debts of gratitude to repay…

They watched as Yuliao picked up the case containing the metal prosthetic and slowly left The Winterfrost inn.

Jin looked at Melissa with a wry smile. “Well, it looks like we’ll be staying in this little border town for a long, long time…”

“Isn’t his goal precisely to keep us here for a while longer?” Melissa sighed softly. “In any case, let’s inform Benoit first. Once our teacher’s injuries have healed and his body has recovered a little, we can consider bringing him here…”

“Then what are we going to do in the meantime? We can’t just sit in the inn every day staring at the Magic Brain device, can we? My head feels like it’s going to explode every time I see those documents in the Magic Encyclopedia now! I never used to think that learning and absorbing knowledge was such a painful endeavor…”

Melissa rolled her eyes and retorted, “That’s because you’ve had too few opportunities to encounter profound knowledge in the past. A traveler who has long walked the desert thirsts for a single cup of water, but if you throw him into an ocean of knowledge, he’ll likely choke and drown after a few splashes.”

“Many nobles and wealthy merchants have come to Jackdaw Town for hunting and leisure recently. We’ll play our parts well and try not to arouse the suspicion of the Federation and the Church in town.”

…

Chris took off the metal mask covering his head and casually wiped the sweat-fogged crystal lens with his sleeve. He turned to the alchemy apprentices who were busy working in the Laboratory and announced loudly, “Alright! That’s it for today. Everyone can take a break!”

An assistant handed him a cool towel for his face and reminded him in a low voice, “Mentor, someone from the Maintenance Center came by this afternoon. They asked me to remind you that your mechanical prosthetics are due for maintenance and wanted to know when you’d be going over…”

Chris wiped his face with the towel, frowning in displeasure. “The Maintenance Center? I’m an Alchemist myself. Why would I need them to maintain my prosthetics? Isn’t that an insult to me?”

He flipped through the work log his assistant handed him and saw that it had indeed been a month since Mr. Rainer had personally maintained and calibrated his prosthetics.

“No wonder my legs have felt much heavier than usual these past two days. I thought it was just from overworking…”

Chris maneuvered his two silver mechanical prosthetic legs over to the sofa and sat down. He waved a hand, signaling his assistant to bring him the toolbox, and expertly began to detach the two heavy metal limbs.

The alchemy apprentices quickly gathered around. They watched as Chris disassembled his own prosthetic legs, listening as he casually explained some key points—all of which was incredibly precious knowledge.

“See this? The connection point between the severed limb and the machinery. This is the crucial part of a prosthetic transplant. The technique used here is the Soul-stitching technique! It joins the recipient’s primary soul with the secondary soul forged within the Alchemical construct through a special process. This is true soul forging! An absolutely cutting-edge alchemical technique!”

Chris picked up a metal syringe, drew a small amount of liquid magical energy, and injected it into the reservoir at the knee of the prosthetic leg. He closed the hatch and tightened the screw. “Alchemical prosthetics don’t just require constant calibration and maintenance of their physical mechanical parts; the Soul Core within also needs to be nourished and protected with concentrated liquid magical energy. Otherwise, it will gradually wither over time, and the prosthetic will become a lifeless object, impossible to control.”

The apprentices listened, completely dumbfounded. Although they couldn’t understand a single thing, none of them dared to interrupt Chris’s impromptu lesson.

Chris was very satisfied with his apprentices’ performance. Although Harvey considered him a mere rookie who had just started learning the techniques of Life Alchemy and soul transfer, he could at least put on the airs of a master and show off in front of the other alchemy apprentices.

“This pair of leg prosthetics was designed by the territory’s Chief Administrator, Mr. Rainer. Hmm… the Lord provided some conceptual support, but honestly, I think there are still quite a few flaws. For example…”

He pointed ostentatiously at the cast metal part of the prosthetic’s foot. “The shape of the arch is clearly not very consistent with, er… human ergonomics. I’ve observed others who have had leg prosthetics transplanted, and the shape of their feet is slightly different from that of a normal person. This results in walking…”

Chris chattered on, excitedly disassembling his entire prosthetic leg. He had his assistant help him lay out the parts neatly on the experiment table, pointing out the design flaws and casting techniques of each one.

“All in all, the design philosophy behind this set of prosthetics is still too conservative. Although you can see efforts everywhere to simulate the form and function of a real body, I believe it’s completely unnecessary…”

Chris had always believed that the flesh and blood of an advanced intelligent being like a human was not particularly well-evolved. Aside from a clever brain, it was practically useless.

Since they possessed soul technology that could rival the creative power of the gods, why not be a little bolder? Why not absorb the superior traits of other races to perfect their own fragile physical structure?

The sky-blotting wings of ancient Dragons, the mighty bodies of Frost Giants, the magic-infused eyes of high-level demons, the powerful tentacles of the abyssal Sea-folk…

If the souls of all these creatures could be transferred into alchemical prosthetics and then transplanted onto a human body, that would be the true achievement of the “Man-made God”—the grand ambition that countless Alchemists had dreamed of for centuries.

A pity, a pity… Chris smacked his lips, waking from his unrealistic fantasy.

“My lord Harvey is always nagging me about ‘scientific ethics’… ‘experimental guidelines’… He seems to strongly disapprove of my proposals and ideas. He won’t even let me install the eight-legged limbs of a Wolf Spider Beast. Sigh…”

Oh well. Having two alchemical prosthetic legs forged with soul forging techniques, plus a custom-made mechanical arm, wasn’t bad. As for converting other body parts, he would just have to perform well for a while and then slowly find a way to collect the rest.

Chris waved his hand, signaling his assistant to reassemble the prosthetic leg parts he had just taken apart and attach them back to his legs.

Half an hour later…

“Uh… Mentor, where did this bidirectional gear from the right knee go?”

“Huh? Huh? Why is the left foot missing a toe… I’m sure I just saw it on the table…”

The apprentices scrambled around like headless chickens, crawling on the floor searching for the parts that had gone missing at some point.

Chris slumped onto the sofa, covering his face with his hands in utter despair. “Bring a stretcher. Carry me to the Maintenance Center…”

Chapter 236: The Church Withdraws

Damo Franck, Mage Leader of the scout company, sat in his campaign tent and asked with a look of disbelief, “What? Are you sure you saw correctly? A small contingent of Demon soldiers has really appeared near Broken Fang Valley?”

The scout Mage, his Gun of Annihilation slung across his back, nodded. He had rushed back to the forward outpost, covered in dust from his journey. “My lord, there’s no mistake. Whether it’s the tracks of ridden Demonic beasts or the traces left behind from a Demon soldiers’ camp, we couldn’t be more familiar with them.”

Franck said blankly, “How is that possible… Along the entire Evil Moon Mountain Range, we’ve deployed three whole legions of scout Mages. How did they secretly bypass our defensive lines, cross the mountains, and enter the south…”

There were only three mountain passes along the Evil Moon Mountain Range through which the Demons could launch a large-scale invasion of the south. These included the Hilly Highlands, where the Federation had established permanent fortifications; Eagle Beak Canyon, defended by the Church’s forces; and the Green Mountain Riverbed, guarded by the seven wizard kingdoms’ coalition army.

Otherwise, for the Demons to enter the south, they would have to risk crossing the treacherous, snow-capped mountain ridges. This was nearly impossible for ordinary Demon soldiers. Only the powerful demonic priests, whose strength was on par with high-level casters, could occasionally force their way over the Evil Moon Mountains by flight to launch surprise raids on the Human coalition forces to the south.

“Could there have been another breach in the defenses at the Green Mountain Riverbed?”

Franck shook his head. “Impossible. After the Demons’ offensive slowed recently, the wizard kingdom coalition army regained the defensive initiative at Green Mountain and even significantly reinforced their troops…”

Compared to the two heavily fortified passes defended by the Church and the Federation, the Green Mountain Riverbed, guarded by the seven wizard kingdoms’ coalition, had always been a defensive weak point. Since the war between the two races began, it had been the site of a repeated, back-and-forth struggle.

At the most critical point, the Demon army had even captured the Green Mountain Riverbed and marched south, laying siege to Blackstone City. It had cost the Humans an immense price and several years of fighting to push them back.

Therefore, Green Mountain—that bloody meat grinder of the war—had always been a key focus for all three factions of the Human alliance. It was impossible that they would overlook it and allow any Demon unit to slip through.

Franck stood up and walked over to the regional map hanging on the tent wall. Staring at the Human coalition stronghold closest to Broken Fang Valley, he suddenly turned to his scout Mage and asked, “How long has it been since the scout squad responsible for monitoring this area contacted the Church’s Judgment Army stationed there?”

The scout Mage froze for a moment, then answered, bewildered, “My lord, ever since we began our counteroffensive, we haven’t bothered with those guys. The Church has always been unhappy with us paying too much attention to their defensive zones, feeling that we’re overstepping our bounds…”

Hearing this, Franck’s heart sank. He jabbed a finger heavily at a Judgment Army camp near Broken Fang Valley on the map and said in a low voice, “I have a bad feeling… Something has likely happened to the Judgment Army unit stationed nearby!”

A fierce gust of wind carried several figures down from the sky, stirring a flurry of panicked shrieks from the birds and beasts in the otherwise tranquil, dense forest.

Franck and Raphael appeared from within the whirlwind, followed by several mid-rank scout Mages they had brought along with them using a flight spell.

“I think this is a completely unnecessary worry…” Raphael, a fellow legion leader from the scout forces, tugged at his standard-issue mage robe, which had been messed up by the wind, and complained to Franck with a frown. “Perhaps it’s a splinter group from a Demon unit that invaded the south earlier. They were accidentally left behind south of the Evil Moon Mountain Range, unable to retreat, and have been hiding and roaming around here ever since…”

Franck shook his head, completely disagreeing with this theory. “How is that possible? How many enhancement elixirs could they have carried? Enough to remain active for years? If they were truly an isolated force left behind here, they would have died of weakening long ago after running out of their elixirs.”

Raphael shrugged noncommittally. “Who cares how they roamed into this area? Just send a few scout squads to hunt them down and annihilate them all… With the Gun of Annihilation and the scout Mages’ reconnaissance spells, it’ll be no different from slaughtering a few pheasants…”

He paused and sneered with contempt, “Technically, this region is the Church’s defensive zone. But it’s common for us to clean up their messes. Those hypocritical wastes of space are probably much happier hiding in their parishes, clutching their holy books and swindling those foolish believers all day…”

Franck gave a wry smile and cautioned, “When we get to their camp in a moment, try not to fill every sentence with insults. I’d rather not get into a big fight on their territory. If we do, we’ll face an inquiry from the Alliance Committee when we get back, and that means writing reports all night…”

Raphael pursed his lips, about to make another sarcastic remark, when the scout Mages who had been sent ahead to the Church’s garrison camp returned in a hurry.

“My lords! Something… something really has happened!”

“The gates to the Judgment Army’s camp are wide open, and the inside is completely empty and in disarray. There are no signs of an attack or a battle, but… but there’s no one there at all!”

Franck was stunned. He asked coldly, “What? No one in the camp? Where is the Church’s Judgment Army? If I remember correctly, there should have been a full one thousand Judgment Army soldiers stationed here, right?”

Even if they had left the camp for a patrol or a combat mission, a small number of personnel would have been left behind to guard it and maintain communications. It was impossible for every single person to have disappeared.

“My lords, you’ll see when you get there. Not only is the camp empty, but even the Beacon of Holy Light built on the hillside—which is required to be manned and guarded at all times, ready to be lit as a warning—is also deserted!”

Raphael finally realized the severity of the problem. He frowned and said, “No wonder… No wonder this remnant force of Demons appeared nearby without us receiving any word from the Church… It’s because there was no Judgment Army stationed here at all. It’s like a massive defensive gap just opened up, letting those damn Demons roam freely!”

A scout Mage who had come with them spoke up, his expression worried. “My lords, this remnant Demon force roaming nearby isn’t small. Judging from their tracks, there are at least several hundred of them, and they have ridden Demonic beasts… If they get past the Judgment Army’s fortifications, the lands further south are filled with civilian villages and towns…”

He was a local Spellcaster from the western territories, and his home was a prosperous farming village not far from Broken Fang Valley. He couldn’t help but subconsciously worry about the safety of his hometown and his kin.

“Quick! Send a magical message immediately and notify the nearest Spellcaster units to come as reinforcements! And dispatch all scout Mages active in this area to locate the movements of that remnant Demon force as soon as possible!”

Raphael suggested quietly, “Should we notify the high-rank caster legion? Let the lords who can provide aerial support help us wipe out this Demon unit?”

Franck sighed and said self-deprecatingly, “The last supply line raid was led by us scout Mages, with them acting as bait. That already caused a lot of hidden dissatisfaction among the high-level casters. Unless this matter gets escalated to Lord Marshal himself, who can command them?”

The temperature in the western borderlands had yet to drop sharply in the early autumn. Fields of golden wheat grew on the vast, flat stretches of fertile black soil. In just a little while, it would be harvest time.

A rickety old donkey cart creaked along the dirt road. The driver, half-asleep, tugged at the reins to keep the animal from veering off the path. The road was flanked by dense woods, and a single misstep would cause the cart to overturn.

The old donkey pulling the cart suddenly stopped, its ears pricked up as it let out a low bray. The driver tilted his head and looked quizzically toward the woods by the roadside, noticing a rustling in the bushes as if something was moving.

Large wild animals were rare on the plains of Broken Fang Valley, and with the Church’s long-standing military presence, even refugees and bandits didn’t dare to operate nearby. So, it was unlikely to be robbers.

But the sound of footsteps from the woods grew heavier, suggesting more than one person, and was mixed with the heavy panting of some kind of animal…

The driver froze, just about to call out a greeting.

Suddenly, a four-legged beast larger than a Camel-ox burst out of the dense woods. On its back rode a strange figure with bright red skin and armor, shouting in an incomprehensible non-human tongue as it charged straight for the donkey cart in the middle of the road.

The hair on the driver’s body stood on end in terror as he watched a cold glint of steel slash down toward his head.

In the last moment before he lost consciousness, a single, despairing thought filled his mind—Why are the Demons here? And where did those knights from the Church go?

A morning mist hung in the air. A horde of hideous, red-skinned Demons, riding massive and terrifying Demonic beasts, burst from out of nowhere into the peaceful, prosperous village, shattering its tranquility.

The roars of Demonic beasts, the cruel laughter of the non-human invaders, the cries for help from the civilians, and the sound of sharp blades sinking into flesh and blood intertwined to form a brutal, apocalyptic scene.

Flames shot up from thatched roofs, and the raging fire painted the sky red. Dozens of young, strong villagers instinctively gathered, wielding iron farm tools in a futile attempt to resist. After a single charge from the Demon cavalry, they were all reduced to gruesome, headless corpses lying scattered across the village streets, only to be mercilessly trampled into a bloody mire by the Demonic beasts.

The old, the women, and the children desperately searched for hiding places. But with the Demon soldiers’ keen senses, they were hunted down one by one, a blade held to their necks as they were pushed into the still-burning granaries and houses.

There was no hesitation or pity in the eyes of these Demon soldiers, only crimson, endless brutality and killing intent. Screams rose and fell, and blood flowed down the dirt paths of the village, staining the ground a dark crimson.

By the time the first rays of morning light pierced through the thick smoke of the fires, the small village, once home to several hundred people, had been reduced to ruins. All that remained were broken walls and ruins still being licked by embers, and the mangled corpses lying everywhere…

Chapter 237: The Plague of Corruption

Goldshine City, the capital of St. Valen.

After an early autumn downpour, a damp, putrid smell permeated the entire city. Even the biting cold that descended after nightfall could not disperse the thick, oppressive feeling.

The Lower District, where the commoners lived, was always chaotic and noisy at night. Countless taverns and brothels that only operated after dark lit their bright lamps, desperately luring the customers wandering the streets with cheap liquor and the cloying scent of cheap perfume.

The liquor was cheap, sour ale; two copper coins could buy a large mug. The women soliciting on the street corners didn’t charge much either. Taking one to an inn for the night cost only thirty copper coins, and if you couldn’t afford the inn, twenty coppers would get you back to her place.

Benjamin pushed open the tavern door and immediately spotted the burly man slumped drunkenly at a corner table. Frowning, he strode over, grabbed him by his greasy, filthy collar, and demanded, “What the hell! It’s not even completely dark yet, and you’re already this drunk? Did you get done what I asked you to do?”

The burly man, his eyes hazy with drink, grinned. “Ah! Benjamin, what are you doing here? Come on, sit down, have a drink with me!”

This man was nicknamed “Rat King,” one of the gang leaders on this street of the Lower District, which was lined with taverns and gambling dens. He had dozens of underlings running around earning money for him, as well as a large number of pickpockets, beggars, and streetwalkers under his control.

“Cut the crap, I’m not here to drink with you today.” Benjamin pushed away the ale a server brought over and said in a low voice, “Where are the people I wanted? It’s been a week, and I haven’t seen a single one. Have you even been taking this seriously?”

The Rat King paused, then came to his senses and said with a sheepish grin, “There’s been a lot of trouble in the Lower District lately, and the higher-ups are watching us too closely. It’s not a good time for us to make a move…”

Benjamin said angrily, “Then go to the nearby countryside, or to the villages and towns farther out. In short, if you take the money, you do the job. Otherwise, you’d better spit every single coin back out!”

Facing Benjamin, his childhood friend and a former captain of the City Guard, the Rat King didn’t dare lose his temper. He could only say patiently, “Go outside the city? Those lowly peasants from the countryside are much more savage than the city folk. As long as they have a bite to eat, they’ll never sell their own children…”

He hesitated for a moment before asking, “Benjamin, who exactly are you working for these days? If you don’t give me a straight answer, my brothers and I won’t dare go all out…”

Benjamin didn’t answer. Instead, he raised a hand and pointed lightly out the window, letting the Rat King see the tall church bell tower not far away.

The Rat King sighed. “Alright, I’ll do my best. Even if I don’t get many, I’ll make up the numbers with the street urchins and little beggars under my command. Don’t worry, I won’t make things difficult for you with the big shot you’re working for. But as for the payment…”

Benjamin snorted coldly, held up two fingers, and chuckled. “Double. My lord doesn’t care about the price. As long as the people delivered are to his satisfaction, this will be a very good deal for you!”

…

But before the Rat King and his underlings could even begin this lucrative business, they ran into serious trouble.

A strange plague had suddenly appeared in the capital.

At first, everyone thought it was just the common Frost Plague. The weather this year was indeed colder than usual; even though it was just the beginning of autumn, St. Valen, being in the northern part of the south, already felt chilly.

But when the unlucky souls who mysteriously contracted the disease quickly dropped dead in the streets, people gradually realized something was wrong. Although the symptoms included coughing up blood and weakening, the corpses’ skin was covered in moldy, dark-green patches. Their abdomens were abnormally swollen, and the slightest poke would cause them to burst with a pop. Foul-smelling entrails spilled out in a gush of green fluid, a sight that was both nauseating and chilling.

This was definitely not the common Frost Plague!

More and more people began showing the same symptoms. The time from onset to death was extremely short; within just three to five days, these people died in excruciating pain. Those who came into contact with the patients and their bodies also began to develop the same dark green, moldy spots. Neither herbal poultices nor bloodletting treatments could cure it.

Fear quickly spread throughout the Lower District of the capital. More and more of the faithful flocked to the great cathedral in the Lower District to pray and seek help. The low-rank Priests and clerics of the church held several Holy Water Masses and Sacred Light rituals, but they had no effect on alleviating the disease.

The capital had no choice but to seal the gates between the Upper and Lower Districts to prevent the strange plague from spreading to the Upper District and the Royal Court, home to the nobles and the Grand Duke of esteemed status.

The surrounding villages, towns, and farms also began to see outbreaks. However, these remote rural areas had no churches or parishes. A large number of sick commoners flocked to the capital seeking treatment and aid, only to be ruthlessly blocked by the City Guard outside the city walls.

Finally, just as the situation was about to spiral out of control, the Bishop of the Cathedral of Splendor in St. Valen stepped forward.

He publicly declared that this was the work of Necromancers and evil Alchemists. Their secret magic laboratory in the capital had suffered an irreversible leak, releasing a terrifying Corpse Plague that had infected countless innocent commoners.

The Church also stated that no current treatment could combat this horrific Corpse Plague. Even if the infected bathed in the radiance of the Sacred Light, they would quickly meet their end in extreme agony. However, the Church would absolutely not stand idly by. They had already reported the situation to the Radiant Church’s headquarters in Goris, the City of Grace.

His Holiness, The Thirteenth Pope, was leading the Cardinals and high-rank Priests in working tirelessly to develop a Divine Grace Potion that could slow and suppress the symptoms of the plague.

At the same time, the Archbishop sharply rebuked the Federation’s branch in Goldshine City, asserting that they had shamelessly harbored and condoned the evil Spellcasters who caused the mass sickness and death of commoners, and they must bear full responsibility.

In an instant, a sense of crisis gripped every Spellcaster in the capital. Under the dual pressure from the Church and the nobility, the Federation’s branch was forced to launch an internal investigation, arresting a large number of ordinary Spellcasters living in Goldshine City, regardless of whether they were Necromancers or not.

…

On the central avenue of the Upper District, the Federation’s St. Valen branch was located right next to the Alchemy Workshop of the Alchemical Exploration Society.

In the meeting room of the branch hall, Federation officials in standard-issue mage robes engaged in a heated discussion with their colleagues from the Esoteric Society who had rushed over to meet them.

“This plague has absolutely nothing to do with Necromancers, nor could it be an experimental accident caused by Alchemists!”

“If even the Church’s clerics, who specialize in healing divine arts, cannot purify this plague, would Necromancers still be oppressed, driven out, and killed at will by them? Out of revenge, they would have long ago unleashed this plague upon The Papal State and turned it into a paradise of pestilence, wouldn’t they?”

The white-haired director of the Federation branch spoke up, “Regardless, the most urgent matter is to report this to the headquarters in Araye as soon as possible. With just us here, we have no way to resist the combined pressure from the Church and the nobility. Even if they don’t find any concrete evidence, I worry they’ll soon make a move against us directly.”

A high-rank Alchemist from the Esoteric Society who had come to confer with them nodded in agreement. “His Grace the Grand Duke dispatched his personal guard to surround our Alchemy Workshop and has strictly restricted the Alchemists’ freedom of movement. Even if we wanted to leave Goldshine City to lie low for a while, it’s already too late…”

The biggest problem was being unable to find the true culprit. Compared to the Church’s prestige among the common people, the Federation had no way to turn public opinion in its favor in this incident and could only swallow this bitter pill for the time being.

The branch director turned to a young Spellcaster in the meeting room who had been silent the entire time and said in a grave voice, “Mr. Durt, what are your thoughts and suggestions on this matter?”

Durt Holden frowned slightly, looked up at the anxious faces in the hall, and said sullenly, “I sent a letter to Da’ers yesterday. If all goes well, I should receive a reply tomorrow. My… my uncle has close ties with Araye and should be able to get us timely help…”

Hearing this, the director sighed, thinking to himself: I hope we can hold on until the reinforcements arrive.

…

Fran “Spellshield” Macaulay took a thick stack of letters from his assistant’s hands. These were all personal letters delivered directly to him by Spell Messenger.

“Hmm? Why did Ferr’s nephew send me a letter all the way from St. Valen…”

With a casual wave of his hand, Fran summoned a small letter opener. In a few quick motions, he sliced open the envelope, which was sealed with a personal wax seal, and casually skimmed the contents of the letter.

“Someone! Get in here!”

The assistant, who had just left, rushed back in, looking confusedly at his frantic superior.

“Quickly, find the branch report sent from St. Valen a week ago! The one about the unknown plague in Goldshine City!”

Since its founding, the Federation of Casters had always operated with a style that was strict on the outside but lax on the inside. Apart from most matters related to the Demon invasion, all other affairs were handled by their respective internal departments without needing to be reported level by level up to the Supreme Council and the three Chiefs.

Only when there was an unfavorable turn in the war at the Evil Moon Mountain Range, or a dispute involving multiple factions, would a meeting be convened for a vote.

This led to most of the Federation’s internal officials having an exceptionally bureaucratic and lax work ethic. Unless it was a battle report sent via a dedicated express line, even an urgent official document stamped in red would be delayed for several days in their hands before being sluggishly answered and processed.

A plague outbreak in some city was an all-too-common affair in the eyes of the ever-arrogant Spellcasters who had little contact with the secular world. And instances of bickering and blame-shifting between the Church and the Federation’s branches in various kingdoms were frequent. As long as no direct conflict broke out, most of the time, matters were dealt with perfunctorily and then forgotten.

“An unknown Corpse Plague. The Church claims it was caused by Necromancers and Alchemists harbored and condoned by the Federation. The Grand Duke of St. Valen has ordered the Federation branch in Goldshine City to be surrounded, and ordinary Spellcasters are being arrested en masse throughout the capital, with the assistance of battle priests and knights from the Army of Judgment dispatched by the Church…”

Fran hastily read the report, which had clearly been neglected and set aside after its arrival. He felt his heart sink, a vague sense of foreboding creeping over him.

The Church was trying to directly incite the secular nobility and the common people’s hatred against the Federation’s Spellcasters!

Chapter 238: A Calculated Frame-up

A country manor, approximately five kilometers from St. Valen’s capital, Goldshine City.

Here, far from the hustle and bustle, the manor sat on a fertile river bend, encircled by a lush, green forest.

The main building was a classical, tower-style villa. Its stone exterior was covered in dense climbing vines, giving the structure a touch of vibrant life.

A group of teenagers, around fourteen or fifteen years old, sat around the fireplace in the villa’s main hall, discussing their worries.

“It’s been three days since Teacher Morale went to Goldshine City with those investigators. Why isn’t he back yet?”

“There’s been no word at all. Could something have happened to him?”

“Teacher Morale used to be a Court Magic Advisor. Those investigators from the capital and the Church’s Judgment Army wouldn’t dare be impolite to him, would they?”

The teenagers debated amongst themselves, but they couldn’t come to any conclusions.

This was a small magic academy privately established by a Spellcaster.

The academy’s only teacher, Morale, had once been a Court Magic Advisor in Goldshine City. After retiring, he converted his country manor to recruit children of common birth who possessed talent for spellcasting, providing them with introductory magic instruction free of charge.

A week ago, a strange plague had broken out in Goldshine City. Soon after, patients began appearing in the surrounding villages and towns. But this secluded country manor, which had little contact with the outside world, had luckily escaped the spreading danger.

But not two days later, a squad from the capital, composed of the Church’s Judgment Army and a noble’s personal guard, arrived. Wielding an investigation order signed by the Grand Duke himself, they took the old Mage Morale away, declaring that he needed to accompany them to Goldshine City to cooperate with an investigation.

The young magic apprentices were suddenly left without a leader. Although two of the slightly older teenagers stepped forward to comfort everyone and temporarily maintain the academy’s affairs, as time passed with no sign of Teacher Morale’s return and no news, a sense of foreboding began to creep into their hearts.

“I… I want to go home. My home is in Willowleaf Town, and I heard the plague has broken out there, too. I’m worried about my mom, my dad, and my sister…” the youngest child mumbled timidly, his eyes welling up with tears.

“I want to go back, too… My home is in Goldshine City, in the Lower District… I heard a lot of people have died there.”

The two older magic apprentices who had stepped up to maintain order were the ones who had been with the old Mage Morale the longest. The boy’s name was Taron, and he had already passed his examinations to become a formal magic apprentice. The girl was named Lilith, and she was supposed to have earned her formal apprentice status this coming winter.

Lilith took out a handkerchief and did her best to soothe the younger students, who were sobbing quietly. “Before the teacher left, he told us not to leave on our own under any circumstances. There are sick people everywhere, whether in the city or the nearby countryside. The situation is unstable and very unsafe.”

Taron, who had a much more resolute personality, said in a low voice, “Although the servants all snuck away, the manor has enough food stored to last us for several months. We need to wait patiently for news from the teacher. Don’t let your minds wander. Continue with your required daily lessons, and absolutely do not slack off on your meditation. If you don’t understand something, you can come to me or Lilith.”

With that, he gave a slight nod, letting Lilith continue to comfort the anxious young apprentices, while he himself got up and left the villa to inspect the manor grounds.

After the last few servants had persuaded the stableman to drive them away from the manor, Taron had locked the main gate tightly. He even got up several times during the night to repeatedly check that all the doors and windows of the villa were securely shut.

Just as he was re-examining the outer gate, he suddenly saw a plume of dust rising from the thunder of hooves on the straight road that was the only connection to the manor.

A figure in a standard-issue black robe on horseback was galloping furiously toward the gate.

The hooded rider on the horse raised a hand, and a flash of white light shot out, striking the large brass lock hanging on the bolt with perfect accuracy. With a clang, the lock shattered, and the rider charged horse and all into the manor.

The man in the black robe dismounted and threw back his hood, revealing a head of messy red hair. “How many apprentices are still in the academy? Gather them at once and leave with me!”

Taron caught sight of the Federation insignia embroidered on the man’s chest and cuffs and thought to himself, Such a young mid-rank Spellcaster…

“Mr., did you come from the city? Do you know if my teacher… Mr. Morale, is he safe?”

Durt Holden frowned slightly and said coldly, “Commoners were incited to storm the Federation’s branch in Goldshine City. The Spellcasters stationed there were forced to retaliate, and as a result, the nobility and the Church judged them to have harmed commoners without authorization, violating the treaty articles. Now, the Army of Judgment and battle priests are leading the capital’s Personal Guard to besiege the Spellcasters trapped in the city…”

He paid no mind to Taron, who stood stunned by the news, and strode directly toward the villa, continuing, “A large number of Spellcasters in the city have been attacked and arrested. Your teacher has likely not been spared. They’re moving against us without any restraint now. I risked my life to escape the city to evacuate the young apprentices from the magic academies near the capital…”

The closest official Federation magic academy to the capital had already been purged by the Army of Judgment overnight, with heavy casualties. Durt hadn’t hesitated for a moment, immediately rushing to this private academy that hadn’t yet been affected, hoping to transfer the apprentices out before the Army of Judgment arrived.

Lilith, who was waiting in the main hall, had also heard the conversation outside the door. She said with a tremor in her voice, “Where… where can we go? To the neighboring wizard kingdom of Da’ers?”

Durt shook his head, his expression grim. “We can’t… The roads to Da’ers are probably all blockaded. The Church and the nobles of St. Valen are just waiting for Spellcasters to walk right into their trap.”

He took two crumpled pieces of letter paper from his coat and said in a low voice, “There’s no more time to wait for support from the Araye headquarters. We’ll go north. The blockade and patrols are much looser in the north. Someone has already contacted a certain influential figure on the border for me. He will provide us with safe harbor, as long as we can get away and make it there…”

Taron nodded and immediately gathered the young apprentices in the manor, telling everyone not to bring too much luggage to avoid slowing them down, only a backpack with enough food and water for three days.

Looking at the group of slender, innocent-faced magic apprentices standing before him, Durt couldn’t help but sigh softly.

He hoped that this time, that Mr. Fran Macaulay in Araye had truly shown him and these innocent children a path to survival.

Chapter 239: Divine Grace Potion

Benjamin had been staying in a Lower District inn for the past few days, anxiously awaiting a reply from that important figure in the Church.

The towering capital walls divided Goldshine City into an Upper and Lower District. A strict quarantine was enforced due to the plague outbreak. Whether noble or merchant, one had to pass a rigorous inspection by the Church’s Judgment Army to move into the Upper District to temporarily escape the plague. Anyone showing signs of coughing up blood or abdominal swelling was forbidden entry, and no amount of connections or back-door dealings could change that.

But even this couldn’t stop the plague’s spread. He had heard rumors just yesterday that some country nobles and wealthy commoners who had recently moved into the Upper District had been infected. Fortunately, the Church had rushed a shipment of Divine Grace Potions from Goris, which greatly slowed the onset and spread of the disease. Otherwise, even the Grand Duke himself might have had to temporarily evacuate the capital.

More and more infected people gathered outside Goldshine City, and all the major gates had been completely sealed, forbidding outsiders from entering at will. But ever since the public learned that the Church had sent Divine Grace Potions, desperate commoners afflicted with the plague tried to storm the city gates every day. Inside the city, a large number of believers also gathered, surrounding the Church of Glory in the Lower District, hoping to seek the divine elixir to save themselves and their families.

Massive piles of plague-ridden corpses were being burned, and even in the Upper District, one could faintly smell the thick, acrid stench of burning bodies.

As evening fell, a soft knock finally came at the inn’s door.

The Rat King looked a little worse for wear. After all, he hadn’t gone through the formal inspection process to take refuge in the Upper District, but had instead snuck in through some underground tunnels known only to members of the underworld gangs.

“What do we do now? Those damn evil wizards, creating this terrifying plague! Some of my men have even been infected…”

Benjamin’s eyes narrowed, and he immediately braced himself against the door, trying to keep him out.

“Wait! Wait… I’m not infected! Can’t you tell?” the Rat King said urgently, grabbing the doorframe and forcing his way through the crack. He caught his breath and said, “I’m here to ask you, what about those children? I got them all for you, and now they’re just stuck with me. When are we sending them to that big shot?”

Benjamin rolled his eyes and collapsed into a chair, his voice weak. “Still thinking about your lucrative business? The plague is rampant now. Who would dare accept living people from the Lower District? That lord hasn’t contacted me in days… Right now, survival is what matters. We need to find a way to get our hands on a Divine Grace Potion from the Church, otherwise, if we get infected, it’ll only be a matter of days before we’re dead…”

…

In a prayer room of the Church of Glory, Priest Malfoy smiled as he looked down at a wealthy merchant prostrated at his feet.

His somewhat plump and bloated body was now curled up on the floor in devout supplication, trembling slightly.

His only son had returned to the city from their private villa in the countryside a few days ago and was discovered to be infected that very night. Ghastly, dark-green mold-like spots had begun to appear on his skin. Now, after just two days, his belly was swollen like a woman about to give birth, and every few hours, he would vomit foul-smelling, black, semi-clotted blood. If this continued, he might not even make it through the night.

“Last month’s Mass of Glory, why did you not attend in person? Has your faith in my Lord wavered?” Priest Malfoy asked in a gentle voice.

“My lord… My lord! My faith in my Lord has never wavered! I beg you, save my child! He’s my only son! I’m begging you…”

“Tsk… The potions sent from Goris are for the Grand Duke and the nobles of the Royal Court. They are far too rare. I cannot simply give one to you…” Malfoy explained unhurriedly. “Wait a little longer. More potions will arrive in a few days. I will keep an eye out for you…”

The merchant looked up, tears and snot streaming down his fat face. He grabbed the hem of the priest’s robes and pleaded desperately.

“Lord Malfoy! My son might not even make it through the night! Please, make an exception and grant me a potion! I… I am willing to donate half of my fortune to the Church, to prove my piety and devotion to my Lord!”

The priest tilted his head slightly and beckoned an acolyte forward. From the box the acolyte held, he took out a potion in a glass bottle. He helped the merchant to his feet and placed it in his hands.

“Very well… This potion was originally for the clerics’ own use. Take it and save your son’s life… But do not forget the promise you made to my Lord.”

The merchant’s eyes widened. He swallowed in disbelief and took the bottle with trembling hands. He emotionally kissed the back of the priest’s hand. “By the Light! Lord Priest, I will dedicate my entire life to my Lord and never betray His grace!”

Malfoy smiled and had a cleric see him out, then whispered to the acolyte, “Show the next person seeking a potion in…”

After receiving four or five more of the city’s wealthy merchants and minor nobles seeking potions, as the bells of the church tower rang at dusk, Malfoy announced that the day’s receptions were over for now.

Although he often dealt with these people, he felt not the least bit annoyed or tired. Instead, there was a faint sense of smugness and delight. These fence-sitters, who used to waver between the Spellcasters and the Church, were now so humbly begging and fawning over him. It gave Malfoy a strange sense of holding the power of life and death over others.

With a cure for the plague in their hands, they could easily control the lives of these people. They could also pull the nobles of Goldshine City and the Grand Duke himself completely to the Church’s side, finally making them resolve to take action against those blasphemous Spellcasters.

According to the directives from the Church’s upper echelons, the plan was to secretly spread the plague to incite panic among the commoners and nobility. Then, they would use the Divine Grace Potion to win over the city’s nobles and rulers, changing their previously wavering stances. After completely purging the Federation’s influence from Goldshine City, they would take a breath and then begin mass-distributing the potion to treat the commoners.

After all, in the beginning, they still needed these ignorant believers as a cover and a front, to incite their hatred and fear of Spellcasters. This would force the Federation members in the city to retaliate in self-defense, giving the Church a legitimate pretext to move against them openly.

This way, even after things calmed down, when the Federation headquarters in far-off Araye wanted to negotiate, they would have no ground to stand on and could only silently take the blame. Their reputation and public opinion in the nations of the south would be severely damaged.

It was a brilliant plan that killed three birds with one stone: not only did it secure the allegiance of the nobles and rulers, but it would also expel the Federation’s influence, and at the same time, they could use the opportunity of treating the sick to convert more believers for the Church.

Once this matter was completely settled, his accumulated merit would likely be enough for a promotion. He would no longer have to languish in the minor post of a head priest in St. Valen, but could instead return to Goris and assume the position of Cardinal.

Chapter 240: Northward Bound

Several days and nights of non-stop travel had left the group of youths from the magic academy, led by Taron and Lilith, utterly exhausted.

They had already traveled over fifty kilometers north from Goldshine City, the capital of St. Valen. At first, they were able to blend in with the commoners fleeing the plague, with Mr. Durt driving a large covered wagon along the main road.

But just two days ago, two of the youngest magic apprentices had suddenly shown signs of infection. Mr. Durt immediately decided to split the group into two. He traded their large covered wagon for a light, two-wheeled carriage, which he continued to drive with the infected apprentices, leaving signs along the way for Taron and Lilith, who followed closely behind on foot with the healthy apprentices.

“Mr. Durt… water. Please, give me some water. I’m so thirsty…”

A young magic apprentice reached a slender arm out from the carriage, grasping futilely at the air a few times and letting out a weak, pained moan.

Durt reined in the horses. “Alright,” he said in a low voice. “I’ll get you some water.”

He took the leather waterskin from his waist, but instead of uncorking it and handing it to the sick child, he pulled a clean white handkerchief from his sleeve. He carefully soaked the cloth with water, then climbed into the carriage and gently pressed the damp handkerchief to the youth’s chapped lips.

Throughout their journey, Durt had been closely observing the condition of those infected with the plague. He had keenly noticed a crucial detail that could slightly delay the onset of the disease: water. Infected patients would drink large amounts of water, followed by abdominal swelling. It seemed as if the water they drank became a catalyst for the rapid growth of the virus in their bodies, quickly producing a large number of dark green plague spots that clung to their skin.

Therefore, after discovering that some children in the group of apprentices had been unfortunate enough to fall ill, he began to strictly control their daily water intake. He steeled his heart against their desperate pleas, providing only the tiny amount of fresh water necessary to meet their basic needs.

The other youth in the carriage took the damp handkerchief and urged, “Mr. Durt, you should get out. Don’t stay in the carriage, or you might get infected by us… Just let me take care of her.”

Durt nodded, climbed out of the carriage, and jumped down. He pulled a thin cord from his pocket and tied it to the trunk of a conspicuous tree beside the mountain path. With a light rub of his fingers, he attached a magically conjured bell to the cord. This was an exceptionally simple zero-circle spell, also known as a cantrip, which most magic apprentices could easily learn.

A tug on the cord would cause the bell to ring out with a pleasant chime, indicating the direction for Taron and Lilith, who were lagging behind, and allowing them to follow closely.

After tying the knot, Durt leaned a hand against the tree trunk, a surge of blood welling up in his chest. He couldn’t suppress it and bent over, coughing violently. With a retch, he spat out a large pool of blackish-red, semi-coagulated blood.

He covered his mouth with his sleeve, forcing himself to muffle the sound. He fumbled in his pocket for a pill, popped it into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. He then leaned against the tree and rested with his eyes closed for a few minutes before slowly straightening up. Before leaving, he didn’t forget to mutter an incantation, completely burying the black blood he had vomited under a layer of dirt.

The problem must have come from that crowd of refugees.

To avoid the checkpoints set up by the Church and the noble armies along the way, Durt had no choice but to disguise the dozen or so youths as refugees, mixing into the large crowd heading north. Luck was on their side, and they managed to slip out of the most heavily controlled areas without arousing any suspicion or being stopped.

But before long, people in the refugee group began to show symptoms of the plague. It started with fever and coughing, then abdominal swelling accompanied by vomiting blood, and finally, mold-like spots on the skin. The illness would worsen rapidly over three to four days, and the infected would fall into a coma.

Upon discovering that some of his apprentices were also infected, Durt decisively led the children away from the main group. He began picking deserted mountain paths and small trails, and to prevent more children from getting infected, he split the group into two separate parties that had no contact with each other, with him leading the sick children ahead.

If they could just hold on for another day and night, they would reach the place called Jackdaw Town that Mr. Fran Macaulay had mentioned. Following his instructions, they could contact the great personage living in seclusion nearby. Then, there would be hope of rescue.

Harvey finished his lunch and prepared to go back to his room for a good nap before continuing his design work on the alchemical bodies in the afternoon.

Since he had already promised the two Forum members who were still stationed in Jackdaw Town to provide for his security that he would help their teacher, Duncan, with prosthetic limb transplant surgery, he couldn’t easily go back on his word. The models and styles of prosthetics he had designed before were not specifically made for Spellcasters; they were more general-purpose.

Later, with that unlucky fellow, Chris, as an experimental subject for the transplant surgery, Harvey had gathered a great deal of experimental feedback specific to Spellcasters. He could now start designing new prosthetic models and improve upon some of the existing flaws.

Just as he changed into his comfortable, soft pajamas and lay down on the bed, Astaren walked briskly into his bedroom.

“My lord, an urgent message from the two Forum members in Jackdaw Town!”

Harvey frowned and propped himself up. “What is it?” he grumbled. “Did they bring that disabled teacher to Jackdaw Town so quickly? I haven’t even finished designing the prosthetic limb!”

Astaren shook his head. “No, it’s something else…”

He turned and walked to the living area, brought the Magic Brain device from the desk to Harvey’s bedside, and explained, “Half an hour ago, I was receiving and checking private communications from the Forum for you as usual, and I received this message from Mr. Spellshield…”

Recently, Harvey had been completely engrossed in his cybernetics design experiments and hadn’t been paying much attention to the Forum. Most of the time, Astaren would log in for him to handle simple administrative tasks. After all, as an alchemical lifeform, he only needed to be recharged and didn’t require sleep, making him a much more suitable Forum Administrator than the flesh-and-blood Harvey.

[Spellshield: Mr. Kel’Thuzad! Please contact me at once. There’s been a sudden development in the capital of St. Valen. The Church and nobles are slandering the Federation, accusing them of harboring forbidden Spellcasters and spreading the plague in the city… They’ve suddenly moved against the Federation’s branch in the city, arresting a large number of Spellcasters and sealing the continental teleportation array… Araye is currently unable to send aid quickly. We request your help in receiving a group of Mage apprentices from Goldshine City, to provide them with shelter and ensure their safety…]

Harvey’s heart skipped a beat as he read it. He frowned and muttered to himself, “How can this be? Spellcasters spreading the plague? The Church and nobles making a move on the Federation?”

He looked up at Astaren and asked, “This message just arrived? Then what’s the deal with the two Forum members in Jackdaw Town?”

Astaren replied calmly, “That group of Mage apprentices has already arrived in Jackdaw Town. They used the method provided by Mr. Spellshield to get in touch with our warehouse contact in town. The two Spellcaster members then detected the anomaly… so they immediately sent you a warning.”

Those two Forum members are certainly responsible when it comes to my safety…

Mr. Spellshield must have delayed sending the message until the apprentices were on the verge of arriving. He seems to have sensed that something was amiss with this entire situation. It seems he was worried about spies and fence-sitters within the Federation leaking their route to the Church and nobles along the way…

“Reply to the two Forum members. Tell them to bring the children to the foot of Raven Ridge. We’ll immediately send the Defense Force stationed on the mountain to pick them up…”

“Unwise!” Astaren cut in decisively. “My lord, the two Forum members disclosed that among the Spellcasters seeking refuge, there are clearly some who are infected with the plague. We absolutely cannot let them enter the territory, nor can we allow our soldiers to come into contact with them!”

Chapter 241: Reception and Treatment

“Swollen abdomen and coughing up blood, corrupted mold-like spots appearing on the skin, contagious through contact…”

Harvey read the firsthand report from the two Forum members in Jackdaw Town and compared it with the message from Mr. Spellshield. He immediately felt the situation was dire.

This infectious disease sounded like… a hybrid of the Plague, Ebola, and Schistosomiasis. Yet not even those three infamous virulent diseases would cause mold to grow on a person’s body while they were still alive, let alone cause the abdominal fluid to change color after death.

His first thought was of the batch of magic vaccines he had Egnor and Chris develop a while ago. But those drugs were created primarily for prevention. They had all passed clinical trials, and most of the territory’s residents had already received free injections arranged by the City Hall.

Plague vaccine, Malaria vaccine, Smallpox vaccine, Frost Plague specific remedy (enhanced), Bloodworm Disease vaccine (an enhanced version with therapeutic effects)…

Harvey stared at the long list of vaccine potions from the infirmary’s inventory, feeling uncertain he could pick out a specific remedy that would cure this strange plague.

Moreover, if the physicians sent to treat the disease not only failed but were also unfortunately infected, it would be a disaster if they returned to the territory and caused a large-scale outbreak among the local residents.

According to the descriptions from the two Forum members in Jackdaw Town, most of the people who had traveled a great distance to seek his protection were very young magic apprentices. Their physical constitutions were undoubtedly weaker than those of strong adults; they probably couldn’t hold on for much longer.

He frowned, lost in thought for a moment, before sending a reply to “Spellshield” on the Magic Brain device.

[Kel’Thuzad: Mr. Spellshield, are these magic apprentices from Goldshine City connected to the Federation in any way? Or are any of the children closely related to our Forum members?]

The meaning behind his words was clear. Harvey was displeased with Spellshield’s approach of acting first and reporting later. If this group had no ties to the Federation and no relation to any Forum members, on what grounds should he risk sheltering them?

Forum members always operated on the principle of equivalent exchange!

[Spellshield: I apologize for causing you trouble… but the person leading these young apprentices here for refuge is named Durt Holden. Uh… he is, he is a junior member of Mr. Son of Flame’s family, his only biological nephew…]

Fine, fine, fine. So it turned out he was the one who owed a favor, and they were here to collect on that debt.

Harvey gave a wry smile and pushed himself out of bed.

“Looks like I have to help no matter what…” he said to Astaren as he got dressed. “Notify Pierce to dispatch the Defense Force from the Ridge Sentry Post to Jackdaw Town. Contact the Federation branch in town. I need their full cooperation to control the nobles and commoners who have stayed behind and prohibit anyone from leaving the town…”

He paused, then added, “Also, ask the two Forum members to help the Defense Force control the Church personnel in town. They’re all low-rank clerics and Priests, so it shouldn’t be too much trouble…”

Astaren hesitated. “My lord, doing this… will displease the Church and the lord of Grizzly Keep. After all, you are only the lord of the pioneer territories, and Jackdaw Town is Earl Fegan’s fief…”

Harvey chuckled softly and said nonchalantly, “Earl Fegan? In a couple of days, when those infected refugees from Goldshine City arrive at the walls of Grizzly Keep, I doubt he’ll have any time to make things difficult for me…”

As for the Church, they had already dared to openly rip away all pretenses with the Federation in the capital of St. Valen, so what was the point of hiding things and maintaining a superficial peace? Their main goal right now was likely to attack the Federation; they wouldn’t have the capacity to cause trouble for him.

…

For once, Harvey gathered all the administrative heads of the pioneer territories for an emergency meeting to discuss the infected magic apprentices who had entered Jackdaw Town.

All the vaccines they had developed needed to be brought over for sequential clinical validation. If they proved ineffective, they would have to immediately start developing a targeted curative potion. There was no time to waste.

For safety reasons, the personnel sent to make contact with the patients had to be led by Astaren and Rainer. As alchemical lifeforms, their bodies of steel were completely indifferent to any virus or plague.

Pierce could also go along to assist. For an ancient high-rank Vampire, all toxins and plagues were ineffective. At most, he just needed to be wary of a “food safety issue.”

Aside from these three, all other personnel and soldiers had to strictly adhere to quarantine protocols, wear protective suits coated with rubber fruit extract, and were absolutely forbidden from having direct physical contact with the patients.

After completing the vaccine trials and attempted treatments, none of the dispatched personnel were allowed to return to the territory immediately. Instead, they had to undergo a week-long quarantine in a warehouse and would only be released from monitoring after showing no symptoms of infection.

…

As evening approached, a troop of soldiers in strange attire, led by two mysterious figures nearly two meters tall and cloaked in black robes, marched imposingly from the foot of Raven Ridge into the town. Under the astonished gazes of the townspeople, they proceeded directly to the Federation branch office.

About half an hour later, the dozen or so Federation officials stationed in Jackdaw Town sprang into action. Each led a detachment of soldiers to the residences of the various nobles in town.

Before nightfall, a roadblock was erected on the only main road into and out of town. A squad of soldiers set up camp by the roadside, completely sealing off the entire town.

“What do you think you’re doing? This is Earl Fegan’s territory! Why is a lord from the pioneer territories beyond the border sending troops to blockade this place?” a minor noble, both shocked and furious at the sudden intrusion, demanded with a quavering voice. He stared at the group of black-robed Federation Spellcasters and the dozens of oddly cloaked soldiers behind them.

“Our apologies. A strange plague has broken out in the capital. Infected refugees have fled all the way to this town. For your own safety, please do not leave your residences. If you develop symptoms, we will send someone to provide treatment…” explained Donnie, a slightly balding Federation official, in a gentle voice.

“No! I don’t trust you Spellcasters! I’m going to the church to ask the high priest and clerics for the truth of this matter! Let me leave!” The minor noble seemed to be grasping at straws, and his tone instantly grew firm.

A black-clad officer stepped out from behind the Spellcasters. He wasn’t wearing the same full-body covering as the others. His eyes were crimson, his voice grim and icy. “Go to the church? The clerics there are already infected. Are you trying to get yourself killed by going there now?”

In the town’s small square, temporary sheds were quickly erected. Each shed was fitted with a wooden partition with a round hole cut in the middle, just large enough for an arm to pass through. This was a temporary epidemic prevention measure Harvey had devised, which could prevent physical contact between physician and patient to a certain degree while still allowing for the smooth administration of injections.

The number of permanent residents in the town was not large. Over two hundred fully armed Defense Force soldiers, led by Federation Spellcasters, began to check on households one by one. They soon discovered locals with suspected infections and, upon questioning, learned that most had unintentionally come into contact with the magic apprentices.

The more severely ill magic apprentices were housed separately in a cleared-out warehouse, with Astaren and Rainer standing guard to conduct drug trials and treatments on them alone.

Once everything was ready, Astaren carried the young Spellcaster, Durt Holden—who was dazed, semi-conscious, and unable to rise on his own—out of a carriage on his back.

His condition looked extremely critical. Though he had no obvious abdominal swelling, the skin visible outside his clothes was almost covered in dark green, circular mold-like spots. Many had even appeared on his neck and face.

Rainer opened a case full of vaccine potions, deftly took out a metal syringe, and began to administer every single type of existing magic vaccine to Durt sequentially, using the standard adult dosage.

This red-haired young man before them, barely clinging to life, was someone my lord Harvey had specifically ordered to be saved. If the medicine didn’t work, the soul transformation device would have to be brought to the town immediately to perform a soul transfer surgery on the spot, turning him into an alchemical lifeform with a metal shell.

The effects of the medicine were silent. After four or five potions had been injected into Durt’s arm, Astaren poured a recovery potion commonly used by Spellcasters down his throat, waking him from his comatose state.

“How do you feel now?”

Durt groaned in pain a couple of times and said weakly, “Water… I want water. I’m so thirsty.”

Astaren extended a metal finger and gently pressed on his chest and abdomen, finding no signs of swelling or ascites. He then brought a jug of fresh water to Durt’s lips and watched him drink it down in large gulps.

“What about the children I brought?” After drinking the water, Durt was clearly much more lucid. He forced himself to sit up on the bed and cautiously posed the question to the mysterious figures shrouded in black robes under the dim yellow light.

Standing to the side, Rainer said softly, “They are all settled in another room. You were too careless. You knew the disease was contagious by contact, yet you still bought food from the townspeople. Now some of the townsfolk are infected as well…”

Durt lowered his eyes with a hint of apology and said in a low voice, “I had already taken precautions, arranging for the infected and the healthy children to travel separately… I never expected this plague to be so virulent…”

Halfway through his sentence, he suddenly felt a strange, prickly itch on his face and neck. He couldn’t help but scratch it. In doing so, he picked off a large mold-like spot from his neck, revealing skin underneath that was pale but clearly healthy.

“What… What is this?” Durt stared blankly at the substance in his hand, which resembled a scab from a wound. “What medicine did you give me? It… it took effect so quickly?”

Immediately after, he felt an intense itch all over his body. He began scratching his exposed skin again, picking and scraping off all the strange mold-like spots that had been attached to it.

Astaren turned and exchanged a look with Rainer, his voice filled with obvious joy. “The magic vaccines really work!”

“Uh… but I injected him with five different vaccines. I don’t know which one had the therapeutic effect…”

Chapter 242: Elemental Devouring

Through the clear images recorded by the Recording Stone, Harvey saw firsthand that after patients were injected with a certain dose of the magic vaccine, the dark green mold spots on their bodies would quickly dry, form scabs, and then naturally fall off their skin.

This was definitely not a virulent infectious disease like the Plague, Frost Plague, or Bloodworm Disease. Although the mold spots on the infected faded quickly after medication, the high fever, vomiting of blood, and abdominal fluid retention persisted. These symptoms would only gradually ease after three repeated injections of the magic vaccine within twenty-four hours.

This showed that the virulence of this strange plague was far more lethal than the common diseases of this era.

Fortunately, the developed magic vaccine had coincidentally proven to be an effective treatment, which allowed Harvey to breathe a small sigh of relief.

He summoned Egnor, who had been on standby at the infirmary. “Mix the Plague and Bloodworm Disease vaccines in a three-to-one ratio. You can increase the dosage slightly; there are no side effects anyway.”

“Also… everyone who has had contact with an infected person, regardless of whether they are showing symptoms, must be injected with one large dose of the vaccine as a preventative measure.”

Chris, who had come along, asked in confusion, “My lord, since this isn’t the Black Death, nor is it Bloodworm Disease or Frost Plague, what is causing the infection? It couldn’t really be… a leak from a Necromancer’s experiment, as the Church claims, could it?”

Harvey rolled his eyes and said angrily, “I’m a Necromancer myself! In all my daily experiments, have you ever seen a research project related to toxins or plagues? This is utter nonsense! A stereotype! Academic discrimination!”

Egnor discreetly poked Chris in the back with a finger from inside his long sleeve, prompting him to immediately grasp the hint and change the subject. “My lord, could we… could we possibly collect some blood samples and fragments of the shed mold from the infected for observation and research with the magic microscope? This might provide an important reference for the future development of the vaccine!”

“It’s feasible, as long as you can ensure the virus experiment is conducted in a sealed environment and according to safety procedures.” But Harvey still reminded them patiently, “A plague virus is not the same as a vaccine. I will not allow you to conduct any clinical trials, do you understand?”

With the coordination of the Federation and the firm hand of the Northern Realm Defense Force, the plague prevention work in Jackdaw Town proceeded in an orderly manner.

Many of the small nobles and local residents who were initially skeptical finally had no choice but to believe the Federation’s word after they, too, began to show symptoms of infection one after another. They obediently came to the temporary treatment station in the town square, queuing through the night to receive their vaccine injections.

By the time the last batch of townspeople had been vaccinated, it was nearly dawn. The Defense Force removed the roadblocks that had temporarily sealed the town, dismantled the treatment tents set up in the small square, and departed from Jackdaw Town as silently as they had arrived, just before the sky brightened.

“These well-trained mage squires, they come and go so quickly. If they didn’t speak, I’d almost suspect they were all living corpse puppets converted and controlled by Mr. Kel’Thuzad…”

Jin, still standing by the window on the second floor of the inn, couldn’t help but sigh in a low voice as he watched the Defense Force march silently out of town.

Melissa waved a hand, looking somewhat weary. “I’ve never seen an independent high-level caster who could maintain such a massive force of squires… Could Mr. Kel’Thuzad be a direct descendant of some ancient wizard family?”

“It’s highly possible. I haven’t studied the genealogy of ancient wizard families, so I don’t know what powerful wizard families might have existed here in St. Valen in the past… I’m so envious of these wizard scions who are born with countless magical legacies!”

…

Harvey rushed to the sealed laboratory built underground, separate from the Territory’s Infirmary.

Egnor and Chris were dressed head-to-toe in protective suits, inside a laboratory section isolated by a transparent glass enclosure. They were operating the magic microscope while fiercely debating something.

Seeing Harvey arrive, the two quickly picked up the alchemical communicators hanging on the wall and reported the situation through the protective glass.

“My lord, it’s so strange! The blood and the shed mold from the infected contain the same… magic microorganisms found in the magic vaccine!”

Harvey froze. “What? The plague virus contains magic microorganisms?”

Chris nodded with absolute certainty. “It’s absolutely true. These plague microorganisms… are also bizarrely insect-shaped and possess the same ability to devour and assimilate as the magic microorganisms. When I mixed them with blood drawn from a healthy animal, I found that these strange microorganisms took only a few seconds to completely infect the normal microorganisms in the healthy blood. Immediately after, the drop of once-vibrant red blood transformed into a horrifying, green, moldy state…”

A plague virus connected to magical energy could not possibly be natural. Ordinary bacteria and viruses could never exhibit such terrifying infectivity and lethality.

“This strange plague was very likely created artificially!” Harvey’s brow furrowed as he made his grim judgment.

Could it really be the work of some high-level Necromancer hiding their identity? But in the Spellcaster circles Harvey had known back in his academy days, he had never heard of any high-level Necromancer who resided long-term in the Duchy of St. Valen.

Moreover, the vast majority of Necromancers focused their research on the application and conversion of death energy. Even the Necromancy Academy Harvey had attended didn’t offer unpopular courses on toxin-based magic. Rumor had it that only certain traditional Necromancer families passed down a small amount of knowledge regarding toxin-based spells from generation to generation.

For a Necromancer to build a spell laboratory in the capital of a secular kingdom was highly unlikely in itself, let alone to be audacious enough to conduct magical experiments on plague viruses. That would be treating the Federation’s branch and the Church’s personnel in Goldshine City like absolute fools.

There was definitely something wrong here. It was highly probable that this was a fabricated charge concocted by the Church or the nobility. They wanted to use this to pin the blame on the city’s Spellcaster community, thereby implicating the Federation and giving themselves a legitimate excuse to make a move.

At this thought, Harvey immediately turned and instructed Astaren, “Send a message to Spellshield and Mr. The Scorching Sovereign in my name. Inform them of the true situation regarding the plague outbreak in the capital of St. Valen. No need for a detailed explanation, just say I’ve found evidence that the plague virus was artificially created… that it could be the result of Necromancy, or it could be from the Church’s divine arts…”

After Harvey finished giving his orders, Egnor leaned in close to the glass partition and said in a low voice, “My lord, we also discovered an interesting phenomenon during our observations. You might be interested…”

His words naturally piqued Harvey’s curiosity.

With the help of his personal guard, he put on a protective suit and entered the experimental section. He walked over to the magic microscope and leaned in to observe. As he adjusted the magnification, the image in the lens gradually came into focus, and Harvey could hardly believe his eyes.

On the glass slide, which held a drop of blood from an infected patient, countless fat, tentacled bugs were swimming slowly in the pale red liquid. They were very uniform in size and shape, but there was a distinct difference from the magic microorganisms in the vaccine: their bodies were not transparent but a rich, dark green, looking exceptionally strange and disgusting.

“This is the form of the microorganism in the plague virus…”

Chris took a glass dropper and carefully mixed a drop of clear liquid into the infected blood, gesturing for Harvey to look again.

The scene in the magic microscope immediately underwent a dramatic change. The magic microorganisms from the clear liquid launched a swift and fierce attack the moment they came into contact with the virus. Although the virus microorganisms tried to fight back, spitting out the dark green pus from their bodies, it seemed to have no effect on the microorganisms from the liquid. They were quickly carved up, devoured, and vanished from the pale red blood sample.

“What kind of magic vaccine did you just mix into the blood sample?” Harvey looked up at Chris and asked.

“My lord, it wasn’t any kind of vaccine. It’s that specialty from the hometown of your friend from another dimension, Mr. Mind Devil—the Magic Net Magic Spirit he brings every time he visits the territory. We extracted an unknown substance from the Magic Spirit’s body, which is rich in pure, concentrated magical energy… Initially, it was used to formulate liquid magical energy.”

Harvey was taken aback. “An extract from a Magic Spirit can cure a plague virus? How can a creature from another dimension possess such a strange property?”

Egnor interjected, slightly excited, “There’s more, my lord! This unknown substance from the Magic Spirit can even devour and assimilate the magic microorganisms in our own vaccines, the ones originally meant to cure diseases. Chris and I have tried multiple combinations, and we’ve found that this stuff simply devours everything. But the strange thing is… it only devours. The final assimilated product is just the most common liquid magical energy.”

That description sounded an awful lot like a water purifier or a filtration device…

Harvey immediately had them bring more of the Magic Spirit extract and demonstrate the experiment again right in front of him. He found that it was exactly as they said. As soon as this extract was mixed with any other substance rich in magical energy, it would immediately convert it into pure magical energy, free of any other impurities.

Even a high-quality fire element magic stone, after being soaked in the Magic Spirit extract for a few minutes, lost its characteristic crimson crystal hue and was completely transformed into a Charged magic stone of the same grade.

The concentration and purity of the magical energy it contained remained completely unchanged. It was, in effect, a perfect, equivalent conversion of energy properties.

A thought flashed through Harvey’s mind, and he couldn’t help but mutter to himself.

“Isn’t this fucking a reducing agent? A magical version of a reducing agent!”

Chapter 243: A Drastic Turn of Events

Two days later, Durt Holden felt that his body had mostly recovered.

To get the group of magic apprentices safely to Jackdaw Town, he had secretly taken a large dose of a magic potion. It was a type of forbidden drug common in Goldshine City’s underground black market, used to briefly stimulate a Spellcaster’s latent potential in special situations at the cost of consuming their own life force.

After relying on the overdose to hold on until he reached Jackdaw Town, Durt’s mind relaxed, and the plague quickly took hold. He immediately fell into a high fever and a coma. If Harvey hadn’t ordered him to be the first to be injected with the test potion, he likely wouldn’t have survived the night.

However, the subsequent treatment plan struck Durt as very strange. Although the plague-like spots on his skin had all flaked off and the swelling in his abdomen had rapidly subsided, he was still forced to stay in a separate room in the warehouse. The soldiers, wrapped head to toe in heavy robes, told him he needed to be isolated for one more day of observation.

Every morning, noon, and night, a mysterious physician—also completely covered, not a speck of skin visible, exceptionally tall, and with heavy footsteps—would come to his room to treat him. The method was also bizarre. It wasn’t the usual application of medicine or oral administration, but an injection of some kind of medicinal fluid into his body using a hollow metal probe.

Durt keenly noticed that the potions injected into his body on the first two days had identical effects: they would quickly bring down his high fever, but the injected arm would become abnormally swollen and sore, so painful at night that he could barely lift it.

But the effect of the final day’s potion was markedly different. Not only did it not have the side effect of a swollen and painful arm, but it also made him feel that the mana exhaustion caused by the forbidden magic potion had been greatly alleviated.

It was like a nearly dry river suddenly replenished by an upstream dam release. A surging tide of mana rushed in through the metal probe piercing his skin, the potion flowing continuously into his body, sweeping through and nourishing his body’s entire network of energy pathways.

“Mr.… the potion you used on me today wasn’t for treating the plague, was it?” After the final injection after dinner, Durt could no longer hold back his curiosity and asked the taciturn, mysterious physician.

Astaren turned his head. His face was covered by a black hood, revealing only a pair of bright eyes that shone with a crimson light. He chuckled lightly, “The difference in effects is obvious, so it seems you noticed. Heh, two days of the plague treatment potion is enough. What I gave you today was to help repair your body and nourish your internal mana channels…”

Hearing this, Durt breathed a sigh of relief. Although it was through the recommendation and arrangement of Mr. Fran Macaulay from the Federation, it was truly thanks to the help and protection of this great figure living in seclusion in Jackdaw Town that he and his group of mage apprentices had managed to survive the expulsion by the Church and the nobility, as well as the terrifying and strange plague.

“I wonder when I might be able to thank… thank the lord who helped us in person. Without his generous assistance, even if our group had managed to reach Jackdaw Town, I doubt we would have been so lucky as to survive…”

He paused for a moment, then continued, “Also, could you provide me with some paper and a pen? I’d like to write to Fran Macaulay, who introduced me, to inform him of our current situation and prevent him from worrying too much.”

Astaren said flatly, “Mr. Macaulay is already aware of your current situation. He entrusted me with a message for you: stay here and rest easy. Do not risk returning to Goldshine City… wait for further news. He will contact you when he’s finished with his work in a few days.”

“Goldshine City… What’s the situation in Goldshine City now? When my colleagues arranged for me to sneak out of the city, the Church was leading the nobles’ personal guards, and they had us and the Alchemical Exploration Society completely surrounded.”

Astaren shook his head gently and said in a low voice, “His Highness, the Grand Duke of St. Valen, has joined with the Radiant Church to publicly declare that this plague was single-handedly caused by Spellcasters. He has directly held the Federation responsible for the matter. He has decided to expel all Spellcasters within St. Valen’s borders and arrest all mages in the capital suspected of spreading the plague…”

“Your Federation colleagues who remained in Goldshine City… because the continental teleportation array was destroyed by the Church in advance, I’m afraid not a single one managed to escape. The Church and the nobles… I fear they’re about to reignite the hundred-year war between Spellcasters and the secular powers!”

…

Harvey, who had been up all night, couldn’t get any rest due to the incessant stream of messages on the Spellcaster Forum.

He could only sit in front of the Magic Brain device in his pajamas, his eyes red and swollen, staring blankly at the constantly flashing messages on the Forum.

【Hand of Elements: This is absurd! On the basis of a trumped-up charge, the Grand Duke of St. Valen is hiding behind the Church’s banner to openly expel and persecute Spellcasters in his country? Where are the investigation results? The evidence? Who is the suspect? They can’t produce anything, so on what grounds can they shift all the blame onto Spellcasters!】

【Man in the Mirror: The Alchemical Exploration Society was dragged into this too, hmph! These foolish, greedy secular nobles certainly don’t act like this when they need something from Alchemists!】

【Frost Giant: So… this was a trap set for the Federation in advance by the Church and the St. Valen nobles? A premeditated move against the Spellcasters in the country? What, do they really want to start a Human civil war again?】

【Spellshield: The Federation’s independent operation in the Evil Moon Mountain Range is at a critical juncture. Two of the three Chiefs have personally gone to Blackstone City to oversee the situation. Currently, only Lord Salas remains in Araye, but… he’s in a state of deep meditation and likely won’t be able to step in and handle this sudden crisis for some time. The Church and the nobles… they really know how to pick their moments to cause trouble!】

【the Astrologer: The plague in the St. Valen capital has spread widely. The number of so-called healing potions released by the Church is nowhere near enough to treat the afflicted commoners in Goldshine City and the surrounding areas. A large number of infected people, and those afraid of being infected, have begun to flee the capital, migrating to other nearby regions and kingdoms… I’ve heard that Da’ers has already sealed its border and dispatched Spellcasters to forcefully repel the refugees trying to enter…】

【Heart of the Forest: That’s a wise choice. If they allow these infected commoners to enter freely, the plague will quickly sweep through the other surrounding kingdoms. Even if Spellcasters and Alchemists develop a Specific Remedy, there won’t be enough time to save so many ordinary civilians. More people will die than during the Demon invasion.】

【Mind Hunter: But if that’s the case, won’t the common people seeking a glimmer of hope come to hate and fear Spellcasters even more? Don’t they already firmly believe that the plague bringing them disaster and death was caused by these utterly evil wizards? Heh, how ironic and tragic!】

When Harvey saw this brutally frank statement from Mr. Mind Devil, he couldn’t help but cover his face and sigh in despair.

“You’re not even Human, so why are you stirring the pot and making such cynical remarks? Easy for you to say…”

However, everyone on the Forum likely knew deep down that while the words were harsh, they were true. The Church was using healing potions to win the hearts of the people, and the nobility was using its secular authority to publicly endorse their actions. Public sentiment and opinion were firmly in their grasp. It seemed Spellcasters were about to repeat the mistakes of the past; the reputation and trust they had painstakingly built in the mortal world were about to be wiped out completely.

Chapter 244: Impressions of the Territory

Durt had originally thought that the reclusive Spellcaster of Jackdaw Town would reside in a Mage Tower in some remote mountain forest outside of town, or perhaps use a deep mountain cavern as a secret laboratory.

He never expected that after their group finished their quarantine treatment, they would be led into the belly of a colossal metal beast. After a bumpy ride, they crossed the towering Raven Ridge and arrived at a private pioneer territory in the Northern Barren Lands.

After settling the young Mage apprentice into an exquisitely styled small building, Durt was taken directly to the Castle District by a squad of soldiers and led straight into the study of the Lord’s Castle.

Inside the lavishly decorated and brightly lit study, a black-haired man of about his own age sat with a smile in a large, high-backed chair behind a desk, listening to a report from his personal guard.

“This is the Lord of the pioneer territories in the Northern Realm, Lord Harvey Floyd. He is also a formally registered Spellcaster with the Federation.”

Durt’s eyes widened. He was stunned to find that the familiar voice was coming from a tall, metal body standing in the study. The one who had been treating his illness every day for the past few days… was this alchemical body right before him?

The Spellcaster who had sheltered and treated them was also a noble lord with a vast fiefdom?

Durt’s mind went blank. For a moment, he didn’t know whether to greet the man with the ancient wizard’s salute or follow the customary etiquette for a Spellcaster meeting a noble.

“It’s of no concern. I don’t care for such conventional formalities,” Harvey said with a soft chuckle, noticing the man’s awkward and fearful posture.

“Please forgive my rudeness, Lord…”

Harvey casually raised a hand and pointed to a soft sofa nearby, gesturing for Durt to sit and talk.

“You are Fire… uh, Mr. Fell Hoden’s nephew? You two certainly look very similar. That fiery red hair is quite striking.”

Durt’s mouth twitched. He found the Mage Lord’s tone a bit strange. They were clearly of a similar age, yet the way Harvey treated him felt more like a caring elder.

“Fell Hoden… is my biological uncle. But we haven’t seen each other in many years, not since I took up my post at the Federation’s St. Valen branch.”

Harvey hummed in acknowledgment, then his tone shifted as he asked gravely, “Please, describe to me in detail everything that happened in the capital of St. Valen.”

“Welcome to the pioneer territories!” In the guesthouse dining hall, an alchemy apprentice smiled at the newly arrived group of Mage apprentices, seating them at the dining table.

“Just call me Ryan. If the Lord hadn’t said I’d get along with you since we’re about the same age, Mr. Chris would never have been merciful enough to give me half a day off. The work in the alchemy Laboratory is never-ending,” the alchemy apprentice said, introducing himself while motioning for the waiters to bring out an endless stream of hot food.

Taron and Lilith exchanged a glance before cautiously picking up their knives and forks. Seeing their two seniors begin to eat, the other, younger apprentices followed suit, taking their utensils and digging into the mouth-watering food on the table.

“Mmm… It smells so good! What kind of poultry is this? The skin is so crispy, and the inside is so tender.”

“Heavens, I’ve never had such a delicious pastry. The filling is made with honey and jam!”

“Is this… fruit wine? Lilith, aren’t we forbidden from drinking alcohol?”

Ryan chuckled. “It’s alright. This fruit wine is very mild; it won’t get you drunk. You’ve all had a long and tiring journey, so a small amount of alcohol is just what you need to relax.”

As the other man spoke, Taron politely set down his knife and fork. “Ryan, I heard you mention alchemy. Does this pioneer territory really have a separate alchemy Laboratory in addition to the Spellcaster’s magic Laboratory?”

“Of course. The alchemy and magic Laboratories are two completely different and independent departments. The daily experiments and tasks are also very different… For example, me,” Ryan said, pointing to himself with a hint of pride, “I’m in charge of research and development for civilian products. I even lead an alchemy group of my own.”

Lilith asked, puzzled, “Civilian? Product R&D? Isn’t alchemy supposed to serve nobles and Spellcasters? I remember the laws in the south stipulate that alchemical products with magical properties are not to be used on common people.”

Taron frowned and quickly gave Lilith a light kick under the table.

Ryan, however, just laughed heartily, completely unconcerned. “What does that matter? This is the Northern Barren Lands! A pioneer territory beyond the kingdom’s borders. We only follow the laws established by the Lord. The Lord’s will is the highest principle.”

He stood up, took a plate of cream cake from in front of him, and placed it before a group of children who couldn’t reach it. After sitting back down, he said in a gentle tone, “Besides, alchemy itself isn’t meant to serve just one social class. The Lord himself said that the applications of alchemy are incredibly broad. We shouldn’t limit ourselves, as that would restrict our development and progress.”

Taron nodded in agreement, not dwelling on the sensitive topic. He changed the subject, asking, “A meal this lavish must be quite expensive. I… We spent all our money on the way here, so…”

“Hahaha, no, no, no! Both this meal and the house you’re staying in are provided by the Lord as his hospitality to you. I didn’t have to pay for anything, and of course, you don’t have to pay either.” Ryan couldn’t help but laugh, but feeling it might be impolite, he quickly added, “I’m just enjoying this fine meal thanks to you. With my salary, I don’t get the chance to eat so lavishly every day.”

Lilith almost spat out the hot tea she had just sipped. “What? Apprentices get a salary?”

After lunch, the alchemy apprentice Ryan bid a reluctant farewell to his new friends.

Taron and Lilith returned to their comfortable rooms on the second floor of the guesthouse, closed the door, and began to discuss their situation with worried expressions.

“Mr. Durt was summoned by the Lord and hasn’t returned yet. We’ve been placed in this building and can’t go out as we please. Look at those guards at the door—they must have been sent by the Lord to monitor and control us.”

Lilith pondered for a moment before speaking. “Are you saying you’re worried this noble lord will betray us and hand us over to the Church?”

Taron frowned and shook his head, feeling the contradiction in his own thoughts. “From the moment we entered the territory until we arrived here, we haven’t seen a single church or any Church personnel. I suspect the Church has no influence here at all. This is the Northern Barren Lands, after all.”

As the two were talking in low voices, the door to their room was suddenly pushed open, and Durt walked in with a joyful expression.

“Mr. Durt!” The young Mage apprentices had found their pillar of support.

“Is everyone alright? I heard from the soldiers downstairs that you’ve already had lunch,” Durt asked in a warm voice.

Lilith nodded. “Yes. Did you meet with the Lord? What should we do now? Is… is the Lord willing to take us in and protect us?”

“Of course!” Durt sat down on the soft sofa, looking relaxed. He said with a smile, “We don’t have to hide anymore. From this day on, this will be our home for a long time to come. I will serve the Lord, and… you will do the same, joining the territory to continue your study of the path of magic!”

Chapter 245: A Gift of Thanks from a Netizen

Early in the morning, Harvey shut himself away in the castle’s underground laboratory and began testing the reduction properties of the Magic Spirit extract using a wide variety of magical materials.

In Harvey’s eyes, this extract from an otherworldly creature, discovered by chance during Egnor and Chris’s vaccine experiments, was useful for far more than just purifying plagues.

This completely equivalent conversion of energy properties could be applied to many magical experiments, producing unexpected auxiliary effects.

The first thing that came to Harvey’s mind was the magical energy reduction effect. When Spellcasters of different disciplines drew magical energy from the Magic Net through meditation, they often had to pay attention to the active periods of different types of magical energy.

For instance, when Harvey absorbed magical energy rich in death energy, the best time, according to the traditional meditation methods taught by the Necromancy Academy, was at midnight each night, when death energy was most active in the Magic Net.

Elemental casters, on the other hand, mostly meditated during the day. As long as the sun had not set, The Four Basic Elements would remain active in the Magic Net space.

The pure magical energy that Arcane Casters needed to absorb was relatively unique. No matter when they meditated, the magical energy they drew from the Magic Net had to be purified by their own magical runes before it could be used.

“My lord, besides purifying plagues, does this thing really have other major uses?” Astaren was on his usual shift in the Laboratory, assisting Harvey with his experiments.

“Its uses are immense. If this extract can truly produce a reduction reaction with all magical substances, then we’ll never have to worry about the production of liquid magical energy again…”

Although countless swarms of Energy-devouring beetles had been discovered in the underground caverns, they couldn’t be used as an energy source immediately after harvesting. They had to undergo catalytic maturation, ore classification, and quality selection… Finally, the qualified portions were fed into an energy device modified from the Demons’ “blood transfusion apparatus” for repeated purification and conversion.

Every kilogram of high-quality beetle ore could only be refined into less than two canisters of liquid magical energy in the energy conversion device. A magical-powered alchemical vehicle like the Magic Motorcycle would consume both canisters after driving just one hundred kilometers at high speed around the territory.

Not to mention large-scale powered equipment and vehicles like The magic-powered Icebreaker and the Living Tunneling Machine. The amount of liquid magical energy they consumed each time they operated was enough to make Harvey’s heart ache.

“As long as this extract can be applied to magical energy purification, all future beetle ore produced can bypass numerous tedious steps. We won’t even need to wait for catalytic maturation or worry about elemental impurities. We can just mix it all together and use the reducing agent for unified purification…”

As the two discussed, they methodically carried out their experiment until the central Magic Brain device in the Laboratory began to beep frequently—a sign that someone was contacting Harvey privately on the Forum.

“It’s probably about the plague in St. Valen’s capital and the Federation again…” Harvey took off his protective face mask and sat down in front of the Magic Brain device.

【Son of Flame: Kel’Thuzad, my dear friend! I just finished a new round of combat missions and only now have a chance to contact you. If that fellow Spellshield hadn’t left me a message, I wouldn’t have known you did me such a huge favor!】

Harvey froze for a moment. Just as he was about to type a humble reply, the other party fired off another long message.

【Son of Flame: My nephew, Durt, hehe, you probably recognized him at a glance. If you hadn’t stepped in to protect him, he’d probably be dead by now… Damn it, I told him a long time ago that there’s no future in a desk job with the Federation. The demon battlefield in the Evil Moon Mountain Range is the right place to show his talent.】

The corner of Harvey’s mouth twitched, and he couldn’t help but roast him internally: With your nephew’s constitution, which is even frailer than mine, if he really went to the Evil Moon Mountain Range, you’d probably be collecting his death benefits immediately.

【Kel’Thuzad: Don’t say that, Mr. Son of Flame. I have to thank you for your help back in Araye. I’ve always kept that favor in mind.】

【Son of Flame: No, no, no! The principle of equivalent exchange! You’ve already paid the price of repayment, remember? Your electromagnetic magic has been quite useful in the recent battles… So, tell me, how should I thank you this time! Is there anything you need my help with? How about I send you a few captured demon Spellcasters? They’d make for absolutely top-tier experiment subjects!】

A few… Are demon Spellcasters like sheep you can just catch on a hillside?

What I lack most right now is actually money! I’ve been desperately short on money!

Ever since the shipyards and the Magic Motorcycle factory went into production, Harvey had once again begun purchasing large quantities of high-quality iron ore and expensive finished iron ingots from the south. His own territory’s mines couldn’t possibly supply such a massive demand for steel manufacturing.

But Mr. Son of Flame was just a solitary high-level caster. Even if he sold his Mage Tower, he wouldn’t be able to scrape together the large sum of money Harvey needed.

【Kel’Thuzad: Forget the demon captives. The transportation cost would be higher than the value of the live subjects themselves. The Northern Barren Lands are crawling with vile orcs, so I don’t lack for live experiment subjects… Hmm, do you have anything else that’s more interesting? A special magic artifact or a strange object from the Demons?】

Fell Hoden sat cross-legged in his military tent, the small Magic Brain device resting on his knees. He scratched his head as he read the message.

“Hiss… Where would I find a special magic artifact? Those demonic priests aren’t skilled at using artifacts. They prefer to haphazardly modify their own bodies until they look like inhuman monstrosities!”

At this thought, he suddenly slapped his thigh, recalling a hair-raising life-and-death battle from a while back.

That demonic “Ascendant” who had grafted two strange black hands onto himself had been wearing a bizarre golden coronet on his head—one that was embedded directly into the flesh of his skull, an exceptionally grotesque and terrifying sight.

Closing his eyes, he rummaged through his storage ring and finally found the strangely shaped golden coronet. Fell quickly took it out and examined it in his hand.

“It’s not made of common gold, silver, copper, or iron, hmm… The craftsmanship looks worse than an apprentice’s from the Esoteric Society. It’s as ugly as a child’s mud pie… But I suppose it’s a rare and special item. I’ll just give it to Mr. Kel’Thuzad as a little trinket to play with!”

With that, he took out a large pile of materials for drawing a temporary teleportation array and crouched down in his tent, busily beginning to draw.

…

The Magic Net teleportation array let out a faint hum. After a flash of reddish light, a bundle haphazardly wrapped in what appeared to be half of a torn bedsheet appeared in the center of the array.

“Uh… Is Mr. Son of Flame’s gift-giving always this casual?”

Astaren walked over, picked up the sheet-wrapped bundle, and unwrapped it in a flash, only to freeze on the spot, completely motionless.

“What’s wrong? Is it dangerous?” Harvey asked immediately.

Astaren’s entire set of metal joints seemed to tremble slightly. It took him more than ten seconds to recover, the crimson soul-fire in his eyes seeming brighter than usual.

“My lord… this… this is the wizard’s coronet worn by the ruler of the Kingdom of Eternal Night… of the Kingdom of Eternal Night!”

It’s My Birthday Today, Taking a Day Off! Sorry

It’s my birthday today, so I’m taking a day off! Sorry~

I’m planning to rush back to my hometown first thing in the morning and feast all day long.

I miss my mom and grandma’s cooking so much: steamed pork with rice flour, steamed ribs with rice flour, steamed pork intestines with rice flour, spicy chicken with chili peppers, white cut chicken, fish in sour soup, braised beef brisket, cold-dressed pig stomach, spicy braised pig’s trotters…

I hope all of you are eating and drinking well every day, and that besides takeout and pre-made meals, you can also enjoy a wonderful home-cooked meal from your parents!

Chapter 246: The Dragon Chaser

Harvey sat on the sofa, listening to Astaren slowly recount the ancient stories about the Kingdom of Eternal Night.

Ever since he had been transferred from the amber stone into an alchemical lifeform, Astaren had rarely spoken of his distant past. If not for the sudden arrival of this gift from a Netizen in the Evil Moon Mountain Range today, it was unlikely Harvey would have ever heard these hidden histories, buried in the long river of time, from Astaren’s lips.

The thousand-year era of Dragon rule…

The more than three hundred years of the “Dragon War,” where humanity founded the Seven Wizard Kingdoms and formed an alliance with the Elves, Dwarves, Demons, and Orcs to fight against the Dragons’ rule and enslavement…

The outbreak of the “War of Broken Oaths” between humans and Demons over a century ago, the official establishment of the Federation of Casters, and its sudden leap onto the stage of history…

The peace treaty signed between the wizards and the Church, with the secular nobility acting as mediators, to jointly resist the invasion of non-human races…

All this historical knowledge, which Harvey had memorized by heart during his magical apprenticeship, had unknown, hidden branches at certain critical points.

Astaren’s vast wizard family had distanced themselves from the human kingdoms of the south as early as the “Dragon War.” They had moved their entire clan to the northern lands, crossing the towering Spine of the Continent Mountains and the vast barren lands to establish a wizard kingdom called the City of Eternal Night.

And that long period of history, originally referred to in books as the “Dragon War,” was for some unknown reason called the “Glorious War” in the kingdom founded by these ancient wizards.

“I remember when you were first rescued, you asked me about… the Sacred Blood Knights. Was that the armed force of the Kingdom of Eternal Night? Or the squire legion of some ancient Legendary Caster?”

Astaren gave a bitter smile and muttered, “I was in a state of turmoil back then and just asked casually. I didn’t expect you to remember it all this time…”

He paused, looked at the strange, golden-glowing crown in his hand, and said in a low voice, “The Sacred Blood Knights were not a wizard’s squire army at all. They were a Mage Corps composed entirely of wizards… Heh, in today’s terms, the Kingdom of Eternal Night had no research-type Spellcasters. They were all battle mages.”

Harvey said with some surprise, “Then the King of the Kingdom of Eternal Night was also a legendary-level… battle Caster? That’s truly rare.”

In the century since the Federation’s founding, Harvey only knew of Gallagher, one of the three current Chiefs, who was a Legendary Caster that had advanced from being a battle mage. Before him, no similar Legendary rank had ever appeared in the Seven Wizard Kingdoms.

Astaren nodded and chuckled lightly. “That’s right. The King was indeed a Legendary Caster, but in the Kingdom of Eternal Night, we didn’t use ‘Legendary’ as a rank title. Powerful wizards like the King of Eternal Night were all respectfully addressed as—Dragon Chasers.”

“Dragon Chaser? You mean high-rank wizards back then had to complete their advancement in battle against a Dragon? Isn’t that a bit too terrifying?” Harvey scratched his chin, finding it truly hard to imagine.

“I’m not sure about the specifics. After all, I was just a newly advanced mid-rank wizard back then, and I was ostracized because of my half-blood status. I had no access to such secret knowledge concerning high-rank advancement…” Astaren pondered for a moment before continuing, “My lord, do you remember a research paper on modern magical foundational theory included in the Forum’s encyclopedia? The one by an author named Julian Aziz…”

Harvey slapped his forehead. “How could I forget? I got the inspiration for my original spell from his paper! A junior teacher at the Oland Academy of Magic—he’s practically a buried genius of magical theory!”

Astaren said grimly, “I also read that theoretical paper repeatedly at the time and was struck by some of its ideas—the magical studies of wizards originate from the imitation of ancient magical creatures… In an ancient wizard kingdom with no research-type Spellcasters, where did we learn those powerful combat spells? I think this is why high-rank advancement had to happen in battle, and why those who successfully advanced were called Dragon Chasers…”

The Dragon Chaser… chasing ancient dragons, and also chasing the magical knowledge that originated from the ancient dragons themselves.

Harvey nodded thoughtfully, then pointed at the golden crown in Astaren’s hand and asked curiously, “So, any high-rank wizard who obtained the title of Dragon Chaser could forge a glorious crown to wear, showcasing the nobility of their rank?”

When it came to a sense of ceremony, the ancient wizards seemed to have more taste than modern Spellcasters… it was just that the craftsmanship and aesthetics were a little lacking.

Astaren chuckled. “Are you thinking that this gold crown looks a bit ugly, that even an apprentice from the blacksmith in Jackdaw Town could forge a more exquisite one?”

He stood up and placed the metal crown on an experimental platform equipped with a magnifying lens and a light-emitting magic stone, inviting Harvey to come closer and examine the crown’s structure carefully.

“You see, this gold crown is forged from an exceptionally rare magical metal, which we call Abyssal Dark Gold. To obtain this material, the Sea-folk must dive into the ten-thousand-meter-deep oceanic abyss in the far north. It takes several hundred kilograms of raw ore to refine enough material to forge a tiny crown like this…”

“Moreover, ordinary furnaces and flames can’t melt this dark gold. It requires several high-rank wizards proficient in fire elemental magic to jointly power an ancient fire-enhancing spell formation just to barely forge it into shape… It was already quite a feat to make it look like this.”

Harvey observed it carefully through the magnifying lens and found that the crown’s surface indeed bore obvious traces of scorching from fire spells, but the effect on the metal itself was very slight. It seemed that even prolonged exposure to fierce flames could only cause a tiny change in its shape.

“A crown and a medal carry the same honor and meaning, but spending so much manpower and resources to make this thing seems a bit uneconomical to me…”

“Not at all, my lord. This is the crown of a Dragon Chaser. How could it be merely decorative?”

Astaren cheerfully picked up the gold crown and, to Harvey’s astonishment, slowly placed it on his own metal head. In the next second, he vanished into thin air. A violent spatial fluctuation occurred by the nearby wall, and then Astaren’s figure reappeared there.

“That… that’s a short-range teleportation artifact? No, wait… an alchemical lifeform can’t manipulate magic to cast spells. How did you do that?” Harvey was so shocked his mouth hung open.

Alchemical lifeforms had no magical runes, no Mental Anchor or sea of consciousness, so they naturally couldn’t condense and construct spell models within the Magic Net. This was also why Harvey had equipped Astaren and Rainer with Energy beam weapons for self-defense.

Astaren took the crown off his head and explained with a smile, “My lord, this isn’t an ordinary magic artifact. It’s a soul artifact of the Dragon Chasers… As long as one has a soul, one can control it at will.”

Chapter 247: Soul Artifact

“A soul artifact? The Golden Crown of the Dragon Chaser… is a teleportation artifact that can be controlled with one’s soul?”

Harvey reached out and took the golden crown from Astaren, holding it in his hands to examine it closely once more.

Among the members he was closest to on the Spellcaster Forum, the two Misters Quinn, who went by the handle “Man in the Mirror,” were master artifact forgers.

A Legendary magic artifact used by the Federation’s Chief, Lord Salas, called the “Storm Furnace,” was a modification of an ancient wizard’s legacy piece that the two brothers had created. It had been a congratulatory gift from the Alchemical Exploration Society to the “Scorching Sovereign” upon his advancement to the Legendary rank.

Through his usual interactions on the Forum, Harvey had learned a great deal about alchemical artifact forging from them. Whether it was amplification-type, energy-storage-type, or support-type artifacts, he knew a fair number of crafting secrets.

But he had never heard of something called a “soul artifact.”

After all, any magic artifact required inscriptions to be carved onto an object to absorb or release magic, and they achieved their effects by connecting to the Spellcaster’s own magical power.

In other words, if the soul could be considered a form of energy, then it wasn’t impossible for it to power a magic artifact.

Since Astaren had already worn it and tried it out, Harvey felt at ease. He carefully placed the Dragon Chaser’s crown on his head and tried to channel his magical power into it, only to find that the golden crown, as expected, did not react to magic at all.

“No wonder Mr. Son of Flame thought this was just a decorative item made from a rare metal…”

Following the method Astaren had taught him, Harvey calmed his mind and drew a sliver of mental energy from his sea of consciousness, connecting it tightly to his Mental Anchor. Through meditative guidance, he channeled the immense soul power from his Mental Anchor into the golden crown of the Dragon Chaser.

Almost instantly, within Harvey’s vision of the underground Laboratory, countless strange, straight lines appeared, arranged in a chaotic grid. These lines varied in thickness, and at the intersection of each thin line, there was a small, slightly distorted hole.

So these are the spatial folding coordinates Astaren mentioned…

Harvey stood still and observed for a moment, keenly noticing some anomalies and differences.

According to Astaren’s description, after putting on the crown and infusing it with soul energy, one could see the spatial folding coordinates in the surrounding area, but typically only one or two would appear. Touching one of them would allow for short-distance, instantaneous teleportation.

But the spatial coordinates and folding lines that appeared before Harvey’s eyes were as dense as the squares on a chessboard, completely different from what Astaren had described.

“Perhaps it’s because of the difference in the strength of each person’s soul energy. After all, Astaren went through a soul transfer experiment. It’s possible his soul sustained some minor damage in the process…”

Harvey extended a finger and lightly touched the coordinate point closest to him. The long, cross-shaped spatial hole’s horizontal connection pointed directly toward the Laboratory’s main door, while its vertical axis seemed to pass straight up through the ceiling, reaching the other floors of the castle.

After a slight ripple of spatial distortion, Harvey’s body vanished from the Laboratory. Astaren looked around and found that he hadn’t reappeared in any corner, which was clearly inconsistent with the artifact’s short-distance teleportation characteristic!

“This is bad! Could the artifact have deteriorated over its long existence, developing some undetected damage that caused my lord’s teleportation to go wrong?”

Astaren immediately lunged toward the Magic Brain device, intending to quickly log in to the Spellcaster Forum—there were no high-rank Mages skilled in arcane energy casting in the territory. The fastest ones who could come to the rescue would be the two Spellcasters stationed in Jackdaw Town.

“Wait! I’m fine… Don’t alarm the other Forum members.”

A gentle voice suddenly spoke from behind Astaren. Harvey had, at some point, silently teleported back.

“My lord… I thought you’d been accidentally sucked into a spatial fissure during the teleportation… You nearly scared me to death!”

Harvey, smiling, took off the golden crown and shook his head, explaining, “I’m not sure why, but when I control this artifact, it doesn’t seem to produce the short-distance teleportation effect you described…”

He had just touched the spatial folding coordinate closest to his body, and the next second, he was instantly transported to his bedroom on the top floor of the castle. Even the vertical distance between the two locations was about twenty or thirty meters.

Harvey had only ever seen this kind of teleportation effect in Araye’s Celestial Domain’s Mage Tower, which required fixed, permanently constructed teleportation circles with a stable input of immense magical power to achieve.

Harvey handed the golden crown back to Astaren and suggested, “Show me again. This time, try to touch the spatial coordinate farthest from your body. I want to see your maximum teleportation distance…”

The soul fire in Astaren’s crimson eyes instantly shrank. “My lord,” he stammered, “surely you’re not joking? A regular Spellcaster’s soul energy can only support a single one-way teleportation in a short period. If you make me try again, my soul will likely suffer direct damage…”

“Huh?” Harvey was completely stunned. He had just teleported back and forth twice and felt nothing unusual. The experience was like entering the Magic Net for roaming through meditative guidance; there was only a slight sense of dizziness at the moment of the flash, but no other discomfort.

But since Astaren, who clearly knew how to use the Dragon Chaser’s crown, had said so, Harvey naturally didn’t dare to have anyone else try it so casually to test its teleportation frequency and distance.

He logged back into the Spellcaster Forum and found Mr. Son of Flame, who was still “surfing online,” to ask him for the detailed story of how he had obtained this demonic battle trophy.

[Son of Flame: That’s how the battle went… Wasn’t it incredibly perilous and exciting? Heh, for a research Spellcaster like you, it’s best if you never encounter such a crisis in your entire life. Otherwise, you might actually lose it.]

Harvey rolled his eyes, exasperated. Mr. Son of Flame’s enthusiasm for combat was a true rarity among research-type Spellcasters. From his description of the battle scene, Harvey could feel the fanatical fervor he was subtly conveying.

[Kel’Thuzad: So… the high-rank demonic priest you encountered, the one named “Ascendant,” possessed a very bizarre teleportation-like attack ability, and he used this ability to repeatedly shift his position over short distances to ambush you?]

[Son of Flame: Heh heh, that’s right. His methods were indeed strange, but all flashy tricks are useless against a headshot from the Gun of Annihilation. Haha, this energy weapon you’re in charge of making is just too good. When you have a moment, could you consider customizing one just for me? I want one with more power and a longer range!]

“How about I build you an Annihilation Cannon? You can hoist it onto your shoulder, fly into the sky, and just start bombarding the Demons’ fortresses…” Harvey couldn’t help but mutter to himself.

Even after a change of specialty, these elemental explosion fanatics could never escape their lifelong love for high-yield weapons…

If what Mr. Son of Flame said was true, then even a high-rank demonic priest like the “Ascendant,” when controlling this soul artifact, could at most achieve about five spatial teleports within a small area…

Harvey couldn’t help but imagine: if he were to connect to that spatial coordinate he had seen, the one farthest from his position while wearing the golden crown, how far could he instantly teleport?

It wouldn’t send him straight into the depths of the Northern Barren Lands in one go, would it…

Chapter 248: The Rescue Plan

A week later, the second wave of plague refugees from St. Valen began to trickle into the border town of Jackdaw Town.

Although Earl Fegan, lord of Grizzly Keep, had sealed his gates and strictly forbidden anyone from entering his castle fief, sporadic cases of the plague still appeared uncontrollably within the city, spreading rapidly in just two or three days.

Large numbers of refugees unable to find shelter in Grizzly Keep flocked to the surrounding villages and towns in search of lodging, food, and clean water. The same plague erupted among these groups, and it was even more severe than before.

About half of them fell ill on the way. A few healthier adults only showed symptoms like abdominal swelling and moldy spots on their skin after reaching the border. This meant that even without direct contact, it was possible to be indirectly infected by this strange disease; the incubation period was just slightly longer.

At the same time, Harvey received a message from Mr. “Spellshield” on the Forum, as well as a letter from the Dragonstone Merchant Guild’s station in St. Valen.

After reading both letters, he couldn’t help but frown deeply and fall silent.

The strange plague was running rampant in St. Valen’s capital, Goldshine City. The Church was using the scarce cures to tightly control the nobility and wealthy merchant class in the capital while simultaneously proclaiming everywhere that this was a conspiracy by certain evil Spellcasters, condoned and sheltered by the Federation.

Out of safety concerns, the Dragonstone Merchant Guild had decided to suspend its long-standing, large-scale sales and transport of goods to Harvey, planning to reconsider their cooperation only after the plague was under control.

Meanwhile, the Federation headquarters in Araye, due to the temporary absence of its three Legendary Chiefs, had descended into endless debates among its various internal factions. Apart from engaging in several meaningless verbal spars with the Church at the Alliance Committee, they had taken no other effective measures.

“Compared to reaping the rich profits of war on the Demon battlefields in the Evil Moon Mountain Range with their new magic artifacts, the plight of the ordinary Spellcasters being persecuted and exiled within St. Valen is probably not even on their minds right now…”

Let alone the common people who had been tragically infected and lost their lives in this plague conspiracy.

Politicians with magic were still politicians. Compared to the foolish and greedy secular nobility, they were simply more powerful as individuals…

However, Harvey keenly sensed a key opportunity to profit from this multi-party conspiracy and disaster.

Rather than hiding in the Northern Barren Lands, staying neutral and ignoring the matter, waiting for the Church and the nobility to join forces to persecute and expel the Spellcasters in St. Valen, and then using faith and medicine to convert the lucky survivors into devout believers hostile to Spellcasters…

…it would be better to seize the opportunity, intervene forcefully, and take in this batch of infected refugees fleeing to the northern border to populate his pioneer territories, which were desperately lacking in men and labor.

Since the Church and the Federation had all but openly turned on each other, once they freed up their hands and stabilized the situation in St. Valen, they would surely continue to target and investigate him. The Church’s investigation team, ambushed and killed midway by the Forum member “the Astrologer” and his group, was proof of that.

But merely waiting at the border to receive and treat the infected refugees as they arrived was unlikely to be very effective. The disease’s onset was too rapid. Most of the innocent populace would suffer heavy casualties in this clearly man-made disaster; very few would be able to endure and make it to the border region.

The death of every potential laborer pained Harvey. Therefore, he had to do everything possible to prevent this from happening and preserve as much of the future population for his territory as he could.

…

“What? You’re going to Jackdaw Town yourself? No, absolutely not! I strongly disagree.”

“Even with a Specific Remedy for the plague, I wouldn’t advise you to put yourself in harm’s way. The work of taking in and treating refugees can be done by the Defense Force. They already have some experience. Besides, Pierce and Mr. Astaren will be there to oversee things.”

“That’s right. Chris and I can also lead the physicians from the infirmary to Jackdaw Town and set up a temporary plague hospital. The vaccine we’ve prepared is enough for more than five thousand infected patients.”

Everyone sat in the castle’s meeting hall, surrounding Harvey and trying to persuade him all at once.

Their core message and unanimous plea was that Harvey, as the lord, could not personally go to Jackdaw Town to manage the situation. After all, if a riot or uprising were to occur among the thousands of refugees, the Defense Force’s pitiful numbers of just over a thousand men couldn’t guarantee the lord’s personal safety one hundred percent, even if they opened fire indiscriminately.

In truth, Harvey was well aware of his limited military management skills. Once he left his Northern Realm stronghold, this pioneer territory of nearly ten thousand people would be left without his direct control. There was no telling what trouble the vile orc tribes, who frequently harassed the surrounding areas, might stir up.

After all, with autumn approaching, the winter season when they would raid southward was not far off.

All in all, compared to taking in refugees, protecting his own base of operations was far more critical; he couldn’t let his own backyard catch fire.

In the end, Harvey was persuaded by everyone on the spot and chose to remain behind to guard the pioneer territories.

But for this, he had to formulate a plan of action that was as thorough as possible.

Having lived in Jackdaw Town for over half a year after graduating from the Necromancy Academy, Harvey was quite familiar with the local situation. So, he had Pierce lay out a sheet of paper and began to personally sketch a simple map on the long table in the meeting hall.

“Jackdaw Town is flanked by mountains on two sides, with only one official road in and out. But along the riverbank, there are many forest paths. Many refugees will also flee from this direction, as it’s the only place to find clean water along the way.”

Harvey drew two thick lines with a black charcoal pencil to represent checkpoints. “Therefore, you have two tasks. First, set up a quarantine checkpoint on the main road leading to the town. Second, closely monitor the refugees arriving sporadically from the direction of the riverbank. Guide them as much as possible to the reception area we’ll set up outside the town. Don’t let them flood into the town and cause chaos.”

Pierce frowned slightly, took the charcoal pencil from Harvey, and drew small circles around the town to represent the scattered villages near Jackdaw Town. “My lord, what if they bypass our checkpoints and attack the surrounding villages in scattered groups? How should we handle that?”

News of the plague spreading in the capital had already reached Grizzly Keep. The minor nobles who had been lingering in Jackdaw Town for the autumn hunt had long since fled back to their respective fiefs. Even the tax collector Earl Fegan had stationed in the town had secretly returned to Grizzly Keep under the cover of night with the militia patrol he had recruited.

If the refugees rioted due to food shortages and began to raid and plunder the surrounding villages and towns, this small border region would have no official armed forces to suppress or resist them, apart from the private soldiers and knights maintained by the nobles within their own fiefs.

Harvey slapped his open palm down on the map at the location of the freight depot at the foot of Raven Ridge. “This is where we’ll set up the refugee reception center!”

“Disperse all the non-commissioned officers from the Northern Army’s special operations squad who possess bloodline talents and dispatch them to the surrounding villages. Spread the news that we have a Specific Remedy to the refugees and local villagers wandering the area, and guide them to come for treatment.”

“As for the refugees who have already arrived at the reception center, promise them free food and shelter if they join the pioneer territories. Then, organize them into groups of five hundred and escort them back here in batches.”

Rainer leaned in and asked in a low voice, “What if they’re unwilling to join us?”

Harvey narrowed his eyes and said faintly, “They should have heard how much money it costs to buy the Divine Grace Potion offered by the Church… While we aren’t as shameless as those holy rollers, we won’t be providing a free lunch either…”

Chapter 249: Receiving the Refugees

Egnor hurried over with a potion inventory list and reported to Harvey, “My lord, the infirmary has rushed to produce a batch of vaccines. We have about five thousand doses of the preventative vaccine, and another three thousand doses of the treatment potion.”

The preventative vaccine was for healthy people who were either not yet infected or in the incubation period, while the treatment potion was for those who were already suffering from severe symptoms of the plague.

Severely ill patients required multiple injections of high-dosage magic potions. Since ordinary people lacked the natural magic affinity of a Spellcaster, this would lead to relatively severe side effects—vomiting, diarrhea, and several days of weakening and low-grade fever.

In this condition, even if they voluntarily joined the pioneer territories, they wouldn’t be able to cross Raven Ridge to reach the Northern Barren Lands. Harvey had therefore been forced to send the War Beasts and a large number of alchemical camel-beasts—which had been transporting logistics supplies between the River Valley Outpost and his territory—to Jackdaw Town ahead of time.

“Don’t stop the preparation and production of the vaccines and potions. Right now, we are essentially competing with the Church for people. Once they start distributing medicine to the common folk in large quantities, the refugees will be less impulsive about fleeing their homes, and the population we can win over will be greatly reduced.”

Harvey took a deep breath and gave a formal order to Pierce. “For this operation, I need you to lead one thousand Defense Force soldiers and five hundred Northern Army soldiers to receive and guide the refugees. Your primary task is to ensure the safety of our non-combatants. Secondly, you must maintain order and stability at the reception center. Unless absolutely necessary, you must not, under any circumstances, open fire on civilians!”

Astaren spoke in a low voice, “At the Church branch in Jackdaw Town, there are still several low-ranking clerics and Priests. Although they are currently under the control and surveillance of the Federation, news of what we’re doing will quickly leak to the capital. I’m afraid it won’t be long before the armies of the Church and the nobility descend upon us…”

Harvey took his charcoal pencil and lightly drew a black X over the location of the Jackdaw Town church on the map. “Then we’ll expel them… The Church in Jackdaw Town and the lord of Grizzly Keep have done nothing about this plague, allowing their people to suffer from illness and displacement. As the lord of a neighboring fiefdom, I hereby declare that I will temporarily assume all administrative duties for Jackdaw Town.”

…

When Pierce entered the refugee reception center with his officers, he couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose and frown.

For a Vampire with an unusually keen sense of smell, the stench here was truly nauseating.

Everywhere he looked, there were plague victims on the verge of death, writhing in agony. Most of them had abdomens swollen like women about to give birth. The skin exposed outside their clothes was covered in ghastly, dark green moldy patches. If they scratched even a little, the edges of the patches would ooze a dark green pus, attracting swarms of flies and insects. But the victims were too weak to even muster the strength to wave them away, forced to let the vermin land on them and lick their sores.

Pierce couldn’t help but recall his past as a human. Whenever the vile orcs came to raid during the harsh winters, large numbers of civilians from the surrounding villages and towns had to flee to Grizzly Keep for refuge. Many, lacking warm clothes and shelter, would huddle in the shanties of the city’s slums and contract the incurable Frost Plague, vomiting mouthfuls of dark, clotted blood.

The miserable, tragic scene before him was so similar. The actions of the Church and the nobility showed they treated human lives as if they were worthless as ants.

“First, carry these heavily infected people into the sheds. Even after being injected with the medicine, they’ll need to recuperate indoors, sheltered from the wind.”

His Northern Army soldiers were mentally much tougher than the Defense Force soldiers who had never experienced war. Having fought vile orcs and Demons at the River Valley Outpost and the Mining Area, they had long been witness to cruel and bloody battlefields. They felt no fear looking at these wretched plague victims—before coming, every single one of them had been made to take a large dose of the vaccine.

The soldiers moved forward one after another, lifting the patients who were lying on the ground, unable to move, and carrying them silently into the makeshift sheds.

When they encountered patients whose ulcerated sores were bleeding excessively, they would skillfully pull out the hemostatic bandages commonly used in the army and give them a simple dressing.

Dozens of physicians in short white robes hurried in and out of the sheds, carrying boxes of potions to inject into the critically ill and dying patients.

Pierce easily stepped onto a pre-built platform and took the alchemical amplifier a soldier handed him. “Listen up, everyone! Lord Harvey of the Northern Realm’s pioneer territories has developed a Specific Remedy that can cure the plague! As long as you are willing to join his lordship’s territory and serve him, you can receive treatment free of charge. There will be no fees whatsoever!”

His words caused a stir among the crowd gathered at the reception center. An infected man, who had only recently started showing symptoms, struggled to move closer to the platform and asked in a hoarse voice, “Is the Lord really willing to provide the medicine for free? Just as long as we become his residents?”

Another civilian standing nearby, who was clearly not yet infected, came closer and asked loudly, “We’ve fled all the way here. We have no farmland, no houses, no livestock. How are we supposed to survive? Is the Lord willing to feed us for nothing?”

A slight smile touched the corner of Pierce’s lips. This was one of the plants mentor Astaren had placed among the refugees beforehand, tasked with playing along with him to win over the crowd.

“Don’t worry, everyone. By joining the Lord’s territory, you will receive food and temporary shelter. Once your health recovers, everyone will be given a job to make a living. Whether you were a farmer or an artisan in the past, you won’t have to worry about starving to death!”

“The pioneer territories in the Northern Barren Lands are full of rich, fertile soil, with herds of cattle and sheep waiting to be grazed! These strong soldiers from the territory standing beside you will guarantee your safety, and you will be completely free from the raids and harassment of the vile orcs!”

An infected person, helped out of a shed, was led onto the platform. Pierce undid his thin, old linen clothes to bare his chest. The crowd moved closer and saw that the dense plague spots on his skin had all scabbed over and shriveled. Some were even about to fall off completely.

“This medicine really works! I feel… I feel much better. I’m not vomiting blood anymore, and the high fever and drowsiness are gone!”

More and more of the first batch of civilians sent in for treatment began to walk out and gather around the high platform.

“Me too! Heavens, the plague spots on my body have all scabbed over and fallen off! It’s itchy, but they’re not oozing pus anymore!”

“He’s right! We can live if we join the territory, and the Lord will even provide food and work!”

“The Church’s Divine Grace Potion costs a fortune. Even those merchants rolling in wealth have to offer up huge amounts of property to get it. How could poor people like us ever be worthy of using it?”

“Exactly! I was farming for a noble back home anyway. What’s the difference where I farm? The most important thing is to save my own skin!”

As more people voiced their agreement, the crowd grew increasingly agitated. Pierce quickly waved for the soldiers to maintain order, preventing the emotional civilians from rushing into the treatment sheds to fight over the potions.

A squad of soldiers rode on a strange metal carriage, driving along the edge of the reception center and shouting through an amplifier.

“Lord Harvey is currently working hard to develop the pioneer territories of the Northern Realm and needs a large number of residents to cultivate the fields, herd livestock, and build houses… Those who voluntarily join the territory will not be charged for any medicine and will be provided with food, shelter, and a salary for their work! Everyone can get a job!”

“For those unwilling to join, that’s perfectly fine too. You only need to pay a fee of half a gold pound for the potion. After you recover, you may leave and return home on your own. However, we will not provide any free food or water…”

“Is it true? Food, shelter, and a salary for work?”

“I’m willing! I was a tenant farmer for a noble. I never had my own land to begin with!”

“Me too! Let me join! I’m a weaver!”

…

In a temporary office set up at the reception center, Astaren sat looking through the thick stack of lists that were constantly being delivered. The crimson soul fire in his eyes focused, and he could read an entire page of densely packed text nearly every few seconds.

When an alchemical lifeform entered its mode of absolute rationality, its work efficiency was dozens of times faster than that of an ordinary mortal.

Pierce gently pushed the door open and walked in. “Mentor, there are currently about five thousand refugees gathered at the reception center. After three days of treatment and announcements, about four thousand are willing to accept the free treatment and join us…”

Astaren grunted in acknowledgment. He was currently rapidly sorting through the information on the new residents that the soldiers had collected, reviewing their past occupations and original places of residence.

“What about the other thousand or so people? They’ve fled all this way. Are they really willing to return to their homes, which have already fallen into chaos?”

Pierce said quietly, “Most of them are freemen farmers who own land and houses. There are also some who fled from nearby towns—small merchants and artisans, most of whom also have property. They’re unwilling to easily abandon the assets they’ve accumulated back home…”

Astaren nodded in understanding. “It doesn’t matter. Let them pay the fee for the potion, rest for two days, and leave on their own. After this group returns home, they will also spread the word for us. After all, compared to the Church’s incredibly expensive Divine Grace Potion, those who persevere and make it here for our treatment only need to pay half a gold pound to save their lives.”

“Some of the refugees have secretly approached the physicians in charge of distributing the vaccine, wanting to covertly purchase some treatment potions. They even offered very high prices. How should I deal with these people?”

Astaren finally looked up from his pile of documents. “Oh? There are people among the refugees who want to resell the potions? These rats in the gutters… arrest them all, and let me interrogate them personally!”

Chapter 250: The Vaccine Business

The people who had snuck in among the infected patients to secretly find the physicians distributing the potions, attempting to buy the vaccine potions at an inflated price, were quickly rooted out one by one by Pierce.

The physicians dispatched to the reception center to treat the sick were mostly former refugees from the Northern Barren Lands. They had a strong sense of belonging to the pioneer territories. Faced with these southerners who pulled out handfuls of gold, silver, and copper coins to buy the potions, they reported them without the slightest hesitation.

With almost no effort, Pierce followed the reports and caught seven or eight of the refugees. Judging by their appearance and attire, they didn’t look like ordinary, poor refugees, but more like itinerant traders who often traveled between various regions.

“No one in this group of refugees knows you, and no one can vouch for your identity. So where are you really from? The capital, Goldshine City? Or some other city in St. Valen?” Astaren, completely shrouded in a black robe, inquired in an icy tone.

Tied to a wooden stake, the man answered with a trembling voice, “My lord… spare me. I was just out of my mind. I don’t want to do hard labor in the pioneer territories, please let me go back!”

“Liar!” Astaren spat out the single word, then glanced sideways at Pierce.

Pierce immediately understood. He took two steps forward, grabbed the man’s neck with one hand, and with a soft crack, it was over.

Two soldiers of the Northern Army rushed forward, grabbed the corpse by the legs, and began dragging it out of the camp. A blue-black tattoo symbol resembling a sun rune was revealed on the dead man’s arms—it was the baptismal mark borne only by the most devout followers of the Church.

“Next,” Astaren said, walking to another wooden stake where a man was bound. “It’s your turn to confess…”

The man’s pants were already soaked, and he sobbed and trembled. “I’m not a follower of the Church. They gave me money to blend in with the refugees and report the situation to the parishes along the way… sob, they promised that if I got infected, I could go to any nearby church to receive a dose of the potion…”

“Report what situation? What does the Church want to use these diseased commoners for?” Astaren immediately sensed something was wrong and demanded sharply.

The man was already a mess of snot and tears. He stammered, “My lord… sob, I really don’t know. They… they just told me to follow, they didn’t say anything else…”

He wanted to plead further, but Astaren simply turned and walked away. Pierce then closed in with a savage grin and placed his hand on the man’s neck as well, cutting off his last words.

This one-chance interrogation quickly disposed of three of the arrested criminals. Astaren had never been a soft-hearted person, and besides, he wasn’t even human to begin with. He possessed not a shred of mercy for those who sought to sabotage my lord Harvey’s plans.

When it was the fourth man’s turn, Astaren felt a little surprised. Although the man was tied to a stake with his hands bound, he was still struggling. He seemed energetic, as if he hadn’t starved on the arduous journey, and he certainly didn’t look sick or infected.

“I will only ask you each question once. If I don’t get a satisfactory answer, you will end up just like the three before you.”

The man immediately stopped struggling. Though fear was also on his face, his composure was clearly better. He spoke articulately, spilling everything in one go.

“My lord, I was also placed among the refugees, but I’m different from them. A Priest of the Church… a Priest had me take the Divine Grace Potion in advance!”

Astaren’s gaze narrowed, and he stared intently at the man. “What’s your name? Where are you from? And who in the Church gave you your orders?”

The man swallowed hard and answered quickly, “My name is Benjamin. I’m a slave trader in Goldshine City, the capital… I find young children for the nobles in the city and certain… certain lords in the Church, for their defilement and pleasure…”

Hearing this, Pierce spat viciously on the ground. Without waiting for Astaren’s command, he moved to snap the man’s neck but was stopped by his mentor’s raised hand.

“Wait. It’s not too late to let him finish.”

Astaren pulled back the hood of his robe, revealing a terrifying metal skull. He moved in, almost face-to-face with the terrified, pale-faced Benjamin, and asked in a low voice, “Besides having you blend into the crowd to monitor the people, what else did the holy rollers from the Church order you to do?”

Benjamin hadn’t expected the black-robed figure’s true form to be so bizarrely horrifying. His legs kicked wildly as he desperately tried to escape, and he started to babble in terror, “Don’t kill me! Don’t kill me! The Priest told me and my companions to follow these refugees and secretly guide them to attack and harass the Federation of Casters in the towns along the way, to do everything possible to stir up the common people’s hatred and hostility towards Spellcasters…”

“Don’t kill him. Make him identify all his accomplices from the refugee group one by one…” With that, Astaren turned and walked back toward the temporary office without a backward glance. Pierce stepped forward and slapped the slave trader so hard it knocked his head sideways, sending blood and broken teeth splattering across the ground.

…

[Astaren: My lord, your guess was completely correct. This catastrophic plague was indeed the work of the Church and the nobility. Their goal is to incite the commoners’ hatred for Spellcasters and use it to expel the Federation’s influence from St. Valen.]

Harvey sat before the Magic Brain device, reading the message from Astaren on the crystal screen. After a moment’s thought, he replied immediately.

[Record the prisoner’s confession with a Recording Stone and deliver it to the Federation branch in Jackdaw Town immediately. We won’t involve ourselves any further. Just focus on sheltering and treating these infected refugees…]

After ending the communication, he immediately logged back into his Forum smurf account and urgently contacted the Federation official who was still online—Mr. Fran Macaulay, the “Spellshield.”

[Kel’Thuzad: Mr. Spellshield, forgive my intrusion, but how does the Federation currently plan to handle the plague outbreak in St. Valen? You must be aware of the severity of the situation by now, yes? The tide of plague-stricken refugees has already reached the border regions…]

Fran Macaulay, who was at his wit’s end, saw Harvey’s sudden message and a thought flashed through his mind. As if clutching a lifeline, he quickly replied.

[Spellshield: Mr. Kel’Thuzad! I didn’t expect you to contact me. The Federation is still endlessly arguing and passing the buck over the cause of the matter. Besides sealing the borders to control the plague’s spread, we have no other viable plan…]

[Spellshield: However, we have held urgent discussions with the Alchemical Exploration Society and have sent a letter of explanation and clarification to the Grand Duke of St. Valen… But the potion to treat the plague is still under accelerated development. I’m afraid there won’t be any results any time soon.]

Harvey chuckled softly. Mr. Spellshield dumping all his woes on him was just an indirect way of asking the Forum for help, wasn’t it? Otherwise, why would he vent about the Federation’s internal squabbles to a mere Forum agent…

[Kel’Thuzad: At the border’s reception center, I inadvertently caught a few spies planted by the Church. Their confessions have already been handed over to the personnel at the local Federation branch. I believe it will be very useful for clearing your name…]

[Kel’Thuzad: As for the plague potion… I happen to have concocted one with a significant therapeutic effect. It’s already being distributed in the refugee camps. The spread of the plague in the border region should be brought under control very soon…]

Fran Macaulay stared at the message, taking a moment to process it before nearly jumping out of his chair.

“This guy… he’s already developed a formula for the plague potion? And he’s already put it to use! Why is he only contacting me now? Is he planning to demand an exorbitant price?”

He immediately typed a reply, asking Harvey to give him half a day for internal discussions. Then he stood up at once and ordered his attendant, “Quickly! Inform the members of the Supreme Council and the heads of the other departments! Tell them I’ve found a formula for a potion that can cure the plague!”

As Fran hurried toward the conference hall, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement.

If he could use Kel’Thuzad’s plague potion to help the Federation absolve itself of the false accusation that Spellcasters had spread the disease, and then have the Federation publicly distribute the potion for free to the people and resolve this suspicious disaster, his prestige and status within the Federation would undoubtedly soar. The long-vacant position as head of the Department of Magical Affairs would likely fall right into his lap.

Mr. Kel’Thuzad might be all about business, but this time he had unwittingly done him a massive favor!

…

[Kel’Thuzad: The formula? I don’t have the authority to sell you the formula, Mr. Spellshield. As you know, I am merely the Forum’s agent in the south… However, I can produce the potion in large quantities. However much you need, I can provide.]

[Spellshield: Very well… then name your price! You’re aware of the plague situation in St. Valen. Most of those innocent commoners who have been afflicted cannot afford to buy the potion. The Federation will absolutely not take this opportunity to suck the people dry for profit!]

Harvey rolled his eyes and grumbled to himself: What a high horse he’s on. You lot didn’t give a damn about the lives of these commoners when you sealed the border and let the plague run rampant. Now that it’s time to talk business about buying a potion, every other word is about how you would never extort money…

[Kel’Thuzad: As a fellow Spellcaster, I naturally won’t sit by and watch the Church and the nobility pin this baseless crime on all of us. How about this… one gold pound per dose of the plague potion. I can provide you with ten thousand doses within three days, with an equal share provided every three days thereafter… As for the work of gathering the people and distributing the potion, you’ll have to handle that yourselves.]

Fran pulled out a blank sheet of paper and quickly began to calculate. One gold pound to save a commoner’s life was indeed a fair price. For a massive organization of Spellcasters like the Federation, which held sway over the Southern Continent, money was the most trivial medium of exchange.

Of all the people currently infected in St. Valen, after roughly two weeks of the plague spreading, at most fifty thousand would have survived long enough to receive the medicine. The cost of this deal was more than worth it to salvage the Federation’s reputation. It was worth it a thousand times over!

[Spellshield: Done! Please arrange to have the potions transported to the Federation branch in Da’ers, the closest city to St. Valen, via the Magic Net teleportation array as soon as possible!]

Chapter 251: New Residents

For the first time ever, Harvey led a squad of his personal guard to the territory’s City Hall. He personally sat in the private office where Rainer used to work and summoned Haru, the director of the Construction Department.

Ever since the Territorial Army went to Jackdaw Town to build the refugee reception center, a continuous stream of civilians had been sent from the south of Raven Ridge, arriving in the pioneer territories. To prevent this group of people, who had only recently recovered from the plague, from spreading the disease to the local residents, Harvey had arranged for all of them to be housed in an area outside the eastern section of the city wall. A dense cluster of temporary shacks had been erected there to provide temporary housing for these new residents.

The temporary shack area was right next to the city wall, fully under the protection of the Defense Force permanently stationed on the walls. Soldiers on patrol also passed by outside the wall day and night, so there was no need to worry about them being attacked by wild animals.

But this batch of refugees numbered over four thousand. If the Federation’s methods for controlling the plague were not timely enough, Harvey predicted that the influx of refugees to the border would continue to increase. At that point, the number would likely surpass the five-thousand mark, accounting for half of the pioneer territories’ local population.

Simply supplying these refugees with food and clean drinking water was not a major problem. Since last winter, the pioneer territories had not experienced a food crisis, and rarely purchased food supplies from the south through the Dragonstone Merchant Guild anymore. At the end of summer, Rainer had even asked Harvey for permission to grind up the large amount of old wheat stockpiled in the warehouses to be used as livestock feed, in order to free up new storage space in preparation for this year’s autumn harvest.

The most pressing issue at the moment was actually housing for this new group of residents. It was already early autumn. The Northern Realm was unlike the warm and humid south; separated by the Spine of the Continent Mountains, the temperature difference between day and night was extreme. For now, the refugees could make do living in the shacks. At least they provided shelter from wind and rain, and the sudden drop in temperature protected them from mosquito bites, preventing other common infectious diseases.

But in another two or three months, winter would arrive. In the Northern Barren Lands, the winter could freeze a person to death at any time. Staying in a wooden shack was no different from sleeping outdoors. Without thick fur clothes and a continuously burning hearth for warmth, most people would not survive the long, harsh winter of the Northern Realm.

In other words, before winter arrived, within the remaining three months of autumn, Harvey had to both methodically oversee the busiest autumn harvest of the year and gather manpower to build sturdy houses for at least five thousand people.

“My Lord, we have no shortage of cement. There’s a large amount piled up in the warehouses, ready to be used at any time… But… but the key problem is that I have no one under my command!” Director Haru of the Construction Department stood ramrod straight before Harvey’s desk, sucking in his slightly paunchy stomach and complaining with a worried expression.

The Construction Department had always handled trivial repair and maintenance work on a day-to-day basis. Whenever there was a large project, they would post notices to temporarily recruit construction workers, then pay them their salary and dismiss them as soon as the project was finished.

But with the autumn harvest approaching, the residents who didn’t have regular jobs had long since been snapped up by the Agriculture Department and the food processing plants, which offered generous salaries for temporary work. Forcing him to assemble a construction team of a thousand people now was practically impossible.

“I can’t be bothered with all that. My order is to see your construction team begin work in the new residential area I’ve mapped out within a week. As for whether you get people from the Agriculture Department or snatch them from the Industrial Department, that’s your own business… At worst, you can just offer a higher salary and ask your immediate superior, Rainer, for a bigger budget.”

Haru’s brow furrowed, and his eyes immediately turned red. He muttered a few words under his breath and was about to twist his lips and cry out, which made Harvey burst out laughing.

“Alright, alright! I was just kidding! How could there be no one? Aren’t the new residents who were just brought to the temporary shack area a ready-made labor force for you? I’ve heard… that most of those who managed to escape to the border are able-bodied young adults. Can’t the dozens of officials under you recruit them directly? This way, you can immediately find them a three-month job, provide them with a decent guaranteed salary, and lay a foundation for them to establish themselves in the territory in the future…”

Holding the planning blueprints for the new residential area, Haru joyfully rushed out of the office, leaving Harvey alone inside, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

…

Before he could even pick up his tea and take a couple of sips to relax, Police Superintendent Yuliao of the territory’s Police Department walked in, dressed in a prim gray uniform.

“My lord, in the shack area where the refugees are gathered, there have been several incidents of robbery and brawling in just the last two days,” Yuliao reported with a serious expression. “Furthermore, this afternoon during the distribution of relief food, some people openly clashed with the police officers maintaining order at the scene over issues of cutting in line and the portion sizes…”

“What? They’ve only just settled in for two or three days, and they’re already starting this kind of trouble?” Harvey frowned, a hint of displeasure in his voice.

Compared to the simple and honest nature of the refugees from the barren lands, the people from the south were indeed more cunning and calculating in disposition.

The local residents and the new refugees hadn’t even been integrated yet, and cases of the strong bullying the weak were already frequently appearing among them. Who knew how many conflicts would erupt once they actually moved into the territory.

“The Police Department must put a stop to this phenomenon immediately. We absolutely cannot let them form cliques, or they will become even more difficult to handle! Have the Defense Force get involved and cooperate with you to maintain security and order in the shack area. Arrest all these thugs who are brawling and causing trouble, and sentence and punish them in front of the other new residents. Whether you hang them up and whip them or cuff them and parade them through the streets, I don’t care. In short, within this month, I want to see the order in the shack area be exactly the same as it is within the territory!”

“Understood, My Lord! As for those who stood out and led the trouble…”

Harvey glanced at Yuliao and said flatly, “Just make an example of them. You don’t need to inform me separately.”

…

After his report was finished, Yuliao remained standing in place, quietly waiting as Harvey buried his head and continued to read through official documents.

“Hmm? Why are you still here? Are you waiting for me to get off work so you can tag along to the castle for a free dinner?” Harvey looked up and teased.

Only then did Yuliao say hesitantly, “My lord, there is one more matter that requires your consent and approval…”

He raised a hand and unhooked the metal baton from his waist—the one specifically issued to police officers for daily patrols and arresting criminals—and stammered, “My men have been talking amongst themselves, saying that the weapons issued to the Police Department are not intimidating enough… On a normal day, they’re somewhat effective for dealing with drunk and disorderly residents within the territory, but against these refugees from the south, unless you really crack them hard on the head, they’re less frightening than waving a sword or a blade.”

During the distribution of relief food in the shack area today, the ringleaders who gathered a crowd to cause trouble completely ignored the iron batons in the officers’ hands. Relying on their superior numbers, they surrounded several police officers. If the Defense Force on the wall hadn’t arrived in time and fired a shot that shattered the ringleader’s kneecap, the situation would likely have spiraled out of control.

Harvey smiled. “What? You want to change your standard-issue weapons to swords and blades, which have more lethal-force deterrence?”

Yuliao puffed out his chest and said bluntly, “No, my lord. I want to request that the Police Department be uniformly equipped with Magical Energy Guns!”

Chapter 252: Festivals and Planning

Harvey sat in the castle study, reclining on a soft sofa as he dictated the plans for the Harvest Festival. Standing beside him, Rainer held a booklet and rapidly took notes.

Holding a festival after the autumn harvest was originally a spontaneous idea of Harvey’s. After all, the pioneer territories were severely lacking in public festivities. Aside from the army’s bi-annual shooting competition, there was only the annual Winter Festival.

Although Harvey had later organized rugby teams for the army and the Police Department, and built several public card and game rooms and an Officers’ Club, the people’s leisure time was still, on the whole, far too limited.

That was why, as early as last year’s Winter Festival, Harvey had publicly announced his intention to codify the “work six days, rest one day” benefit into the territory’s laws, which all departments would have to strictly observe without exception.

This decree of mandatory leave was truly unbelievable to everyone. After all, whether they were refugees from the barren lands or escaped slaves from the south, the life they had always known was one of working themselves to death as long as they were still breathing. Even in the depths of winter, when heavy snow made it impossible to farm and the livestock no longer needed to be herded, they were often conscripted by noble lords everywhere for hard labor, either to build castle walls or perform menial tasks in preparation for the lord’s spring campaigns.

Huddling in the shacks of the slums with an empty stomach could hardly be considered a holiday.

This led to a situation where the people, upon discovering they had one free day after every six days of work, actually felt a bit out of sorts. It eventually evolved to the point where, in the pioneer territories, you had to pull some strings with your supervisor just to get on the overtime list for a public holiday. This truly made Harvey not know whether to laugh or cry.

“Since no one wants to take a day off, I’ll just invent a bunch of large-scale festivals to entice them to participate. They’ll have no choice but to adapt to this social model…”

“The Winter Festival at the start of the year, the Harvest Festival at the end, the bi-annual army shooting exhibition, the monthly rugby matches…” Harvey counted on his fingers, then turned his head to Rainer. “What other excuse can we use to come up with some new festive activities?”

Rainer closed his notebook and reminded him in a low voice, “I’ve heard that those great noble lords in the south like to lavishly reward their servants and residents during their own birthday banquets. My lord, you could do the same…”

Harvey coughed twice in embarrassment. The image of himself sitting in a carriage, parading through the territory while tossing handfuls of coins, sent a shiver down his spine. “Don’t always make it about me! Proposal rejected!”

The Municipal Director could only shrug his shoulders and say helplessly, “Then there are no other options. As far as I know, the only past festivals that commoners were allowed to participate in were the Church’s holy days and the Mass of Glory. Other than that, people worked almost year-round without rest. A single day without work meant the entire family would go hungry…”

…

After finishing his morning work, Harvey had a quick lunch and hurried over to the newly planned residential blocks. He nodded in satisfaction at the bustling scene at the construction site.

The pioneer territory, now enclosed by a high wall over five kilometers long, had undergone a dramatic transformation from its previous appearance as desolate ancient mage ruins. Apart from the Lord’s Castle District, where Harvey lived and worked, which still vaguely retained some of its original greenery and style, the other areas that had once been dense primeval forest were now completely unrecognizable.

The temporary wooden houses in the residential area along the river had all been demolished and rebuilt. In their place stood uniform two-story gray concrete brick houses. The residential area was bisected by what was now the territory’s most prosperous Market District, and it was neatly laid out in a grid pattern to form a series of open residential blocks. This vast residential zone occupied about three-fifths of the entire pioneer territory’s land area, housing a full six to seven thousand residents.

A small number of the local residents lived scattered in the Farm area, the Industrial Zone, and the more distant mining area outside the walls. With the completion of the concrete-paved roads, they could travel conveniently to and from various parts of the territory on the increasingly popular Bicycles, unaffected by distance.

For the new residential blocks, Harvey no longer planned to use the previous model of two-story terraced houses. Instead, he opted to expand the area of a single floor, building two-story terraced buildings where each floor could accommodate one household.

He also followed the real estate development model from his past life on Earth, designing different layouts such as one-bedroom, two-bedroom, and three-bedroom units. This would facilitate the rational allocation of new housing based on the family size of new residents.

Of course, these houses, just like before, were merely rented to the commoners by the lord. The monthly rent was still deducted directly from their salaries, serving as a direct form of tax.

The Director of Construction, his face smudged with dirt, greeted Harvey, who had come for an inspection. When he saw the Lord’s personal guard once again hand him a stack of architectural drawings, he couldn’t help but shudder.

“Near these public schools in the municipal district, I plan to build a few… uh, apartments! For the alchemy apprentices from my alchemy Laboratory, and for the new magic apprentices who have joined the territory.”

The alchemy apprentices brought by Chris, and later the magic apprentices brought by Durt, were all young teenagers. Although Harvey paid them a full salary for their daily work, he hadn’t considered providing them with individual housing. As a result, these youths were still living together in the territory’s only two guesthouses.

This was very inconvenient for their rapid integration into the pioneer territory.

Haru wiped the sweat and grime from his face with his sleeve and carefully unrolled the blueprints in front of Harvey, meticulously studying the location of the newly planned project.

“Hmm… The municipal district isn’t very large to begin with. This empty plot near the academy is indeed not big enough to build more terraced houses. I was originally planning to have Mr. Egnor grow a small street-side garden there…”

The Director of Construction looked up as if waking from a dream and asked hesitantly, “My lord, what… is an apartment?”

“An apartment is a building taller than a two-story brick house.” Harvey pointed a finger at his simple sketch. “It can’t be built entirely with bricks and cement. Instead, like I taught you to build the city walls, you need to add sturdy steel rebar to the pillars and beams, then pour concrete to cast it all at once… This will ensure the structural stability of the building. Forget just three or four stories; you could even build it up to ten stories without a problem.”

Haru stared blankly, murmuring to himself, “Build houses like city walls… no problem how high you build…”

He jolted suddenly, an incredible idea flashing through his mind. Rolling up the blueprints, he subtly raised his hand to wipe the Black Iron Medal he always wore pinned to his left chest—it was a meritorious award bestowed upon him personally by the Lord after the city walls were completed, and proof of the honor of being praised as the “cornerstone of the territory’s construction.”

“My lord! I understand!” Haru’s voice trembled with excitement. “After this batch of projects is finished, let me renovate your castle for you! With enough manpower, I can build you a tower that reaches the heavens!”

Chapter 253: The Great River Bridge

On an autumn afternoon in the Northern Realm, the brilliant sun hung high in the sky, but it no longer offered much scorching heat to bake the fertile land.

Wearing a slightly comical, wide-brimmed straw hat, Rainer led a team of officials from the Agriculture Department through an endless sea of wheat, carefully inspecting the crop that was ready for harvest.

The wheat, sown in late spring and meticulously cultivated for four to five months, was now fully mature.

The boundless wheat fields resembled a golden ocean. Every ear of grain was thick and full, their heavy heads bowing and swaying in the wind. Even the southern refugees, temporarily housed in the shacks at the base of the eastern city wall, couldn’t help but walk to the edge of the fields with envious gazes.

It was sure to be a bountiful year, all thanks to the magical wheat seeds enchanted and bred by the half-elf Egnor.

The director of the Agriculture Department was an old farmer who had fled to the barren lands from the south; three generations of his family had been farmers their entire lives. He knew well what wheat should look like in the Northern Realm. Due to the vast difference in day-night temperatures compared to the south, both barley and wheat here typically grew with a single ear. Each stalk yielded just over a dozen grains, and that was only thanks to the fertility of the barren lands’ black soil.

But in the golden ocean of wheat before him, every stalk had branched into two or three ears, and the grains they bore were fuller and larger than ever before, as lovely as shining golden beans.

“What do you think? The application of Elven magic to civilian agriculture brings unimaginable harvests, doesn’t it?” Rainer plucked an ear of wheat with his metal hand, speaking with a smile to the Agriculture Department officials beside him.

The agricultural director sighed softly. “Indeed… It’s a pity that in the past, no noble Spellcaster ever deigned to lower their gaze to the land and crops we depend on for our livelihood…”

He stopped mid-sentence, suddenly remembering that his own superior, Rainer, had always identified as a Spellcaster. He quickly shut his mouth and changed the subject. “Director, the weather has been clear recently. The wheat can be harvested at any time. What are your thoughts…?”

Rainer clapped his hands, his tone light. “Then let’s start tomorrow. Have the Maintenance Center finish inspecting all the agricultural alchemical beasts this afternoon. Begin the harvest first thing in the morning.”

With that, he pointed toward the Icefield River, smiling at the vast, flat expanse of wasteland on the opposite bank. “While the harvest is underway, don’t forget about the development of this newly planned farmland… I had the Lord grant special permission to use The Icebreaker. Arrange for people to get to the other side as soon as possible to complete the surveying and partitioning of the new fields.”

A young subordinate official approached, asking with some hesitation, “Director Rainer, are we really going to cultivate the land across the river? And give it to those commoners who migrated from the south to farm? But the fields are on the other side. A single large ship won’t be enough to transport so many people. Besides, there isn’t even a single thatched hut over there. What will they do for food and lodging?”

Rainer gave a confident chuckle. “Don’t worry, the Lord has already made preparations. Before long, you will see a great bridge spanning this wide, turbulent Icefield River, directly connecting the two banks. In the future, during the off-season, you’ll no longer have to risk crossing in a sampan to pick those delicious wild berries for making jam…”

…

Ever since meeting Harvey, the lord of the pioneer territories, Durt had remained in the small guesthouse where he was first lodged. He spent his days in secluded meditation and reading, quietly awaiting his next assignment.

His decision to stay in the Northern Barren Lands for the long term was primarily because, during his meeting with Harvey, the man had personally handed him a letter from his uncle, Fell Hoden.

Durt was somewhat puzzled by this. His uncle was on the Demon battlefield in the distant Evil Moon Mountain Range. Even with a Spell Messenger, it would take nearly a month for a letter to travel the thousands of kilometers from west to east and reach the Spine of the Continent Mountains north of Raven Ridge.

But the letter in his hand, in terms of both its authenticity and its timing, seemed to have been written by his uncle only a few days prior. He had no idea what secret magical ability this Spellcaster lord possessed to receive mail so quickly.

The letter’s content was concise. Aside from a few trivial daily matters that only close family members would know, his uncle gave him just one instruction: find a way to stay in the pioneer territories, study the path of magic under Lord Harvey, and under no circumstances return to St. Valen or his family home in the wizard kingdom of Da’ers for the time being.

His uncle had also warmly referred to Lord Harvey as his dear friend, seemingly an equal he had known for a long time. This made Durt, who was about the same age as Harvey, feel quite awkward, unsure whether to treat the young lord with the courtesy due an elder.

However, this Lord Harvey didn’t seem to care much for tedious formalities, and his personality appeared very gentle. This completely matched Durt’s image of a reclusive, high-level caster who stood apart from both the Federation and the wizard kingdom.

“Lord Harvey, you mean to say… you want me to work with this, this commoner gentleman, to build a bridge over the great river next to the territory?” The first work assignment Durt had so painstakingly waited for left him utterly bewildered.

He had never associated much with ordinary people in his entire life. Besides the servants and grooms kept by his family, mortals without extraordinary abilities were like weeds on the roadside—always in sight, but never worthy of notice.

Haru, the director of the Construction Department who had been summoned to the Lord’s Castle at the same time, was also a bit lost. “My Lord, are we to build a pontoon bridge over the Icefield River, like the one at River Valley Outpost?”

Haru, on the other hand, dealt with Spellcasters like Rainer, Astaren, and Egnor daily, so he felt no fear at all. When Harvey gestured for them to sit, he plopped himself down on the sofa next to Durt without a second thought, causing the young Spellcaster to frown imperceptibly.

“With all due respect, my lord, the Icefield River is a good seventy to eighty meters wide, and its current is exceptionally strong. A pontoon bridge might hold up for a short while, but once the ice thaws in the spring, it will be washed away in no time…”

Harvey smiled, pressing down on the blueprint spread across his desk. “When did I ever say we were building a pontoon bridge?” he said softly. “The reason I’ve arranged for a Spellcaster to work with you this time is because I want to build a permanent bridge cast from steel and concrete!”

Ignoring Haru’s shocked expression, he turned to Durt and smiled. “Mr. Fell mentioned that your specialty in the schools of magic combines force-field casting and earth-elemental magic, is that right?”

Chapter 254: The Wisdom of Mortals

Haru, the head of the pioneer territories’ Construction Department, and the young Spellcaster Durt stood side-by-side on a small, hastily constructed pier on the bank of the Icefield River.

“According to the Lord’s blueprints and construction requirements, this bridge will need at least three to four spans to connect across. But the current of the Icefield River is so turbulent, even if I quarry stones so large they’d take two or three men to encircle and use them as piers, they’d quickly be washed away by the river water and its floating ice… This bridge is much harder to build than the Lord’s Mage Tower.”

After receiving this daunting construction task, Haru had immediately gone to visit Astaren. He had obtained a large number of blueprints and documents on bridge construction from the territory’s chief advisor and began studying the theory day and night. This particular point made Durt, who had always looked down on mortals, see him in a new light.

The young Spellcaster set aside his initial, private disdain and reminded him faintly, “Don’t forget, Lord Harvey has another strict requirement for this bridge—the entire structure must be six meters above the water’s surface, so that a certain miraculous, steel, sailless ship can pass through smoothly. I imagine that’s the main reason he sent me to assist you.”

Haru snapped back to reality and asked cautiously, “In the Lord’s study the other day, I didn’t quite understand… How exactly does My Lord want you to assist me? Can a Spellcaster’s amazing magic conjure a bridge out of thin air over the river?”

The head of the Construction Department was used to seeing his superior, Rainer, and the Chief, Astaren, perform some spells, but most were demonstrated through instruments and accessories attached to their alchemical bodies, like the ultra-high temperature energy beam welding torch Rainer often used.

Durt suppressed the urge to spit out a retort and explained patiently, “Since we’re building a bridge this high above the river, we’ll naturally need to construct connecting approach ramps on both banks. For you ordinary people, that’s a massive project. Just quarrying the stone and transporting it here would keep you busy for a while…”

With that, he raised his hand with some satisfaction, pointed to the planned construction site for the bridge, and then knelt, placing both palms gently on the ground. He began to silently chant a long incantation.

Haru immediately felt a slight tremor under his feet, as if something was surging and churning deep within the earth. Even the wild waterfowl on the riverbank scattered in alarm.

“What… what kind of magic are you using? It’s causing an earthquake!”

Durt ignored Haru’s question. The spell he was currently casting was called “Durt’s Earthen Ascension.” It was a modified, fourth-circle earth-elemental spell he had personally developed. Because it incorporated some of the matrix structure and casting inscriptions from force-field magic, its effects could also produce certain changes to the terrain’s structure.

Under the spell’s influence, the soft, wet soil of the riverbank suddenly began to churn and gather as if it were boiling, quickly rising from the ground to form a “small hill” with a gentle slope.

Then, as if kneaded by a pair of enormous, invisible hands, the soft riverbank mud was squeezed and molded, its shape gradually changing until it solidified into the form of ordinary rock.

Haru cried out in astonishment and ran over. He began to claw at the small hill that had abruptly appeared by the river just minutes before, murmuring in disbelief, “Heavens! You turned mud into hard stone! This is… this is simply incredible!”

Durt grunted in satisfaction, his slightly trembling hand quietly pulling an elemental magic stone from a pouch at his waist and clutching it. He was only a research-oriented mid-rank Spellcaster. If he hadn’t wanted to show off in front of this mortal, casting an area-of-effect spell that nearly exhausted his mana would not have been a simple or easy task.

Haru, however, had a quick mind and immediately extrapolated an idea. He said excitedly, “Mr. Durt! I understand what the Lord meant now! If I get a boat and take you out onto the river, can’t you use your incredible magic to raise solid stone piers directly from the riverbed? Hahaha! At this rate, the bridge will be finished in less than half a month!”

Durt couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He snatched the stack of bridge blueprints from Haru’s hands, pointed a finger at them, and asked with a pale face, “Without touching the mud at the bottom of the river, I can’t turn that foul-smelling silt into rock. At most, I can lift it from the riverbed to break the surface, but a current this fast will constantly wash the sediment away. A pier like that wouldn’t last more than a few days!”

This wasn’t Durt deliberately refusing to cooperate with Haru. Even a high-rank elemental Spellcaster wouldn’t be able to solidify the soft sediment at the bottom of the river into rock without direct contact with the target, relying only on the water to transmit the spell’s energy. It was a matter of magical energy transmission effects, something that couldn’t be clearly explained to an ordinary construction official.

He sighed, put away the depleted elemental magic stone, and said flatly, “Just stick to the plan. Arrange for workers to quarry stone at the foot of Raven Ridge, transport it back, and find a way to tie it with iron chains and drop it into the water… I can only help you raise the approach ramps on the banks.”

Haru, however, wasn’t discouraged in the slightest. He called his technical officials over, and they all gathered around the bridge sketch Harvey had drawn, beginning a discussion on the spot.

Durt stood quietly to the side, observing with a cool detachment.

Although Spellcasters of mortal origin often had delusions on their path to pursuing truth, these ordinary people, by comparison, were even more prone to impractical ideas. Most of their wild fantasies stemmed from a desire to find shortcuts.

The intense discussion didn’t last long. Haru suddenly slapped his forehead and walked over to Durt excitedly. “Mr. Durt, I’ve got an idea! Even though the silt you raise from the riverbed can’t withstand the current, if it can just hold for two or three days, that’s long enough for us to drive piles into it, pour concrete, and insert steel rebar to stabilize it.”

As he spoke, he pulled out a sheet of blank paper and, without any sense of pretense, squatted down right where he was and began to draw. Durt couldn’t help but squat down to watch as well.

“Look… if I drive a hollow iron pillar into the center, we can continuously pour concrete deep down. If the pile is driven deep enough, we could even embed the steel rebar directly into the bedrock of the river…”

And since Durt could control the raising of the earth, he could naturally reverse the process and make it sink. In that case, the hollow iron pipes, enveloped in mud and filled with hardened concrete and steel rebar, could be lowered back into the ground along with it.

“That idea… is actually quite ingenious.” Durt’s eyes lit up, and he couldn’t help but praise the plan. “So the problem now is whether the soft river mud I raise can hold up long enough for you to drive the iron piles and finish pouring the concrete.”

An official who had been temporarily transferred to the shipyards and had participated in the construction of the steel Icebreaker came over and suggested, “What if Mr. Spellcaster shapes the mud into the form of a ship’s hull with his magic as he raises it from the riverbed, just like he did before? That way, even in a strong current, it could cut through the water like a boat and avoid having too much of the mud washed away…”

Durt was suddenly taken aback. He turned his head to look at the young, dark-faced official, a faint sense of shock rising in his heart.

These ordinary people, with absolutely no talent for spellcasting, actually possessed an observational acuity and a capacity for thought as sharp as a Spellcaster’s here in the pioneer territories of the Northern Barren Lands. This was something that would be simply impossible to find among the toiling poor of the south, who spent their entire days struggling just to survive.

Chapter 255: Harvest Festival

The first batch of “mana wheat” planted in the Northern Realm’s pioneer territories at the end of spring finally reached harvest time in mid-autumn.

Hundreds of farmers with formal work contracts at the Farm followed behind massive agricultural-type alchemical beasts in the wheat fields, continuously filling pre-prepared burlap sacks with the golden wheat grains spewing from their bellies.

The improved models of the agricultural alchemical beasts could now simultaneously harvest the wheat and thresh the ears, completely eliminating the need for manual labor to gather the ears and move them to a threshing floor for manual threshing, saving a great deal of manpower and time.

But cleaning, sorting, and drying were still essential steps. After being bagged, the grains were quickly transported to a drying yard next to the farm for tossing and sun-drying. This was where the temporarily recruited temporary workers came in handy. They used shovels and rakes to toss the grains into the air, much like stir-frying vegetables, letting the chaff and debris mixed in with the grains be carried away by the wind, leaving only plump, golden kernels behind.

The remaining stalks after the grains were threshed by the alchemical beasts actually had many uses. They could be returned to the fields as fertilizer or used as livestock bedding. Even in the shantytown areas housing refugees, many shacks had roofs built from wheat straw.

But Harvey currently had no time to develop these subdivided agricultural industries. He could only follow the most common method, watching the farmers gather and pile the stalks in the fields and burn them. As a result, for more than a week during the harvest, the entire territory was shrouded in a gray haze of smoke, and the air quality was terrible.

Harvey only made time to inspect the Farm once and was left miserable by the smoke and sun. So, he decided to simply let Rainer and the officials from the Municipal Department handle it themselves.

The grain drying yards were built right next to the fields. The temporarily recruited workers uniformly piled up the dried grains, forming small golden mounds, and then handed them over to the staff in the storage area for bagging and weighing.

“My lord! This year’s wheat is a massive harvest!” Rainer burst into Harvey’s study, leading the director of the Agriculture Department, his excitement palpable. “According to the initial weighing and statistics, our farmland’s yield per acre has more than doubled compared to last year! The enchanted wheat seeds produced grains that are even plumper and larger than normal!”

“Excellent.” Harvey couldn’t help but smile, satisfied. “It seems when you had me clear out some of the old wheat from the warehouses a while ago, you had already anticipated this autumn’s bountiful harvest…”

Rainer’s voice was tinged with excitement. “We only recruited less than a thousand farmers, and by coordinating with those large agricultural alchemical beasts, we’ve grown enough food to feed ten thousand people. This would be impossible in any noble lord’s fief in the south.”

Harvey understood this point deeply. As someone who had transmigrated and lived here for over a decade, although he came from a family of small, non-laboring landlords who lived off their income, he still had some understanding of human agricultural development in this era.

Sowing sixty pounds of wheat seeds in a field would often yield only five times that amount—less than three hundred pounds of wheat. Moreover, without intensive farming techniques, they could only use the most primitive crop rotation methods. Except for the extremely fertile southern coastal areas, most farmers could only achieve a one-to-five seed-to-yield ratio.

This meant that an ordinary freeman farmer of this era, even with around thirty acres of land, could at most feed his own pitiful family of five. He would also need to set aside a portion of the grain to pay the lord’s taxes. When faced with sudden tax hikes or military levies, the entire family would very likely go hungry in the winter.

The urban population of this era couldn’t expand precisely because of the low grain yields in the surrounding villages and farms. A city like Goldshine City, with a population of over thirty thousand, was considered a major metropolis. For Harvey’s pioneer territory, isolated in the Northern Barren Lands, to be able to sustain a population of ten thousand was truly a miracle.

The constraints on productivity stemmed from this. If the mechanized agricultural technology brought by the alchemical beasts could be fully popularized, it wouldn’t just be a matter of one farmer in the pioneer territory feeding ten commoners, as was the case now. In the future, feeding a hundred or even a thousand people would likely not be a problem.

Therefore, it was necessary to develop mechanized farming techniques, continuously improve and catalyze the seeds of mana wheat and other food crops, and use as little labor as possible to feed more people. Labor had to be freed from the land and redirected into the territory’s industrial manufacturing.

…

The next afternoon, Harvey, surrounded by his personal guards, ascended a temporary wooden stage set up in the town square in front of the castle. A large crowd had gathered early on, held back by rows of Territory Defense Army soldiers in black uniforms. The scene was bustling and packed with people.

Three loud hums from the alchemical communicator echoed across the square, quickly quieting the crowd. Harvey cleared his throat, stepped up to the communicator, and began his speech.

“Today is the pioneer territory’s first Harvest Festival, and it is also the territory’s first award ceremony. Those who have made significant contributions to our northern home this year deserve to be commended by me today, and they also deserve the cheers of the people!”

After his brief and concise speech, deafening cheers and applause erupted from the crowd.

Rainer then stepped forward, picked up a pre-prepared list of award recipients, and began to read it aloud.

“Pierce, Chief Commander of the Territorial Army, for fighting the remnants of the Demon forces harassing the territory’s borders and for going south to Jackdaw Town to receive and transport refugees…”

“Egnor, Director of the Territory’s Infirmary, for improving the wheat seeds, developing potions and vaccines, and treating the plague…”

“Chris, Director of the Alchemy Laboratory, for developing potions and vaccines, and treating the plague…”

“Haru, Director of the Construction Department; the Director of the Agriculture Department…”

“Vaughn, battalion commander of the Northern Army’s First Battalion; the battalion commander of the Defense Force’s First Battalion…”

Harvey chose these individuals as the recipients for the first award ceremony mainly to set an example for the people to follow. Among them were a Spellcaster, a half-elf, a Vampire, an ordinary barren lander, a refugee from the south, and a half-orc.

None of them came from a prominent background, nor did any possess a superior bloodline. They had all climbed their way up from the very bottom to where they were today.

This signified that the Lord did not practice favoritism but judged solely on merit and ability, regardless of origin or bloodline.

…

Amidst the cheers and whistles of the Northern Army soldiers, Vaughn once again received an exquisite Black Iron Medal from the Lord. He rubbed his hands together excitedly as he watched the Lord personally pin it to the left side of his chest, then stepped back, beaming with joy.

Glancing around, he noticed Haru, the Director of the Construction Department, standing beside him. Haru already had two Black Iron Medals pinned to his chest. One bore an embossment of the territory’s city walls, and the other a silhouette of a tall building and a bridge, likely awarded for his achievements in constructing the Icefield River bridge and the territory’s apartment high-rises.

Vaughn couldn’t help but purse his lips and look away with a hint of envy. In terms of the number of medals, he naturally had more than Haru. He never missed the army’s biannual shooting competitions and always took home a brass medal representing a sharpshooter. However, its value was clearly not comparable to a Black Iron Medal, which was only popular and revered within the military.

When Pierce, Egnor, and the others received their awards from the Lord and stepped down, Vaughn’s envious gaze could practically shoot flames of jealousy—the medals on their chests were silver!

Black Iron, Silver… Gold! The three medals, with their different materials and emblems, clearly represented the significance and merit of each person’s contribution to the territory!

Chapter 256: A Natural Treasury in the Barren Lands

Egnor, who worked at the Territory’s Infirmary, had recently squeezed a hefty sum of “research funds” out of Harvey. He then gleefully took his research partner, Chris, and a hundred Northern Army soldiers seconded from Commander Pierce, and rode out on their lightning-fast Magic Motorcycles to gather samples.

The main purpose of this excursion was Egnor’s proposed “supplementary sampling” plan for the territory’s magical herb garden. The garden had been in operation for over half a year. Besides introducing a large number of common magic herbs from the south, some newly discovered magical plants near the territory had also had their medicinal properties and practical uses confirmed through experiments, and were subsequently brought into the garden for artificial cultivation.

After the Harvest Festival celebration, Harvey had taken the time to inspect the general state of the garden with Egnor. He felt that the variety of magical plants in the garden was still too limited. Aside from the widely cultivated and versatile rubber fruit, only a few species like frostflowers, Hawksbeak Wood, Human-faced Grass, and Dog-head Thorned Tubers had achieved large-scale cultivation.

These were all raw materials needed by the Territory’s Infirmary for mass-producing magical vaccines—magical plants that could only be cultivated in the unique temperature variations and soil conditions of the Northern Barren Lands. This was also why Harvey insisted on only exporting the finished plague potions to the Federation and refused to sell the formula directly: the raw materials for the potion could not be obtained in the south. His territory in the Northern Barren Lands was the sole source.

Considering that a previously discovered magical creature native to the Northern Realm—the Snake-head Leech—had played a very important role in the territory’s medical development, and that even the Medical-type alchemical beasts now available for civilian use were created through the soul transformation of these disgusting, slippery, giant leeches, Harvey believed that regular expeditions to collect samples were essential.

The vast barren lands north of the Spine of the Continent Mountains were, in essence, a giant natural treasury where humans struggled to survive.

…

And indeed, Egnor and Chris did not disappoint Harvey. Although they had been away for nearly two weeks, the samples they brought back were exceptionally abundant.

Aside from some edible, non-magical wild crops, there were three newly discovered magical plants that Harvey found very interesting.

“These ordinary wild fruit and vegetable samples can be catalyzed with mana and handed over to the Agriculture Department for cultivation research. Whether they can be mass-produced will take time to verify…” Egnor reported to Harvey, holding a thick stack of sampling lists.

One of them, a yet-unnamed but very stout, reed-like plant, had been discovered by the sampling team near a dry salt lake over a hundred kilometers away. Incredibly, a rich, salt-laden juice could be extracted from its thick stalks, which Harvey found truly unbelievable.

Isn’t this just a super-salty version of sugarcane?

There were no natural rock salt mines near Harvey’s pioneer territories. The large quantities of salt needed for the populace’s daily life were all imported from the south with real gold and silver. The Dragonstone Merchant Guild owned several massive sea salt mines in Faros, the Land of a Thousand Sails. Although it had to be transported over a great distance, the price was relatively fair.

But ever since the plague outbreak in St. Valen, the Dragonstone Merchant Guild had requested a temporary halt to trade, needing to wait for the epidemic to subside before resuming the transport of bulk goods. Other luxury items like sugar, wine, silk, and tobacco were unaffected, but if the salt supply—a matter of public welfare—was not replenished for a long time, it would inevitably and significantly impact the quality of life for the people in the territory.

Rainer had also tried to find a solution, using alchemical camel-beasts to transport some brine crystals from a distant natural salt flat outside the territory. But the journey was too long, the transport cycle was lengthy, and they constantly had to be on guard against raids from the surrounding vile orc tribes. Both extraction and production efficiency were extremely low.

Moreover, the people in the territory, accustomed to refined sea salt, were mostly not short on money. Having long since entered a state of moderate prosperity, they were more willing to spend extra to buy the already scarce sea salt, and they looked down their noses at this slightly bitter, natural mineral salt.

It is easy to go from frugal to extravagant, but difficult to do the reverse…

“Are you sure this salty… sugarcane can really produce large amounts of salt-rich sap, and that it can be refined into large quantities of pure salt crystals?” Harvey asked, pinching a small section of the plant stalk, still somewhat uncertain.

Although he had seen spherical olives that could be pressed for oil and was familiar with sweet wild fruits that could be refined into rubber, he had never in his life seen a plant that could produce salt.

“My lord, it’s absolutely true. We’ve verified it through repeated experiments. This stout reed plant contains an exceptionally weak amount of mana, but it can indeed produce a concentrated salt juice that is safe, non-toxic, and pure in composition…” Egnor replied resolutely.

Chris chimed in as well: “And they’re incredibly easy to grow. You just need to cut off a piece of the stalk and stick it in the ground. It’ll take root and sprout quickly, shooting up a good amount in just three to five days. It’s not picky about soil either—it can even be grown in the sandy soil of a riverbank!”

Harvey nodded and instructed, “Then have the Agriculture Department allocate a patch of riverbank sand to use as an experimental plot. Plant a batch and we’ll see what the yield is like before we make any further plans.”

With that, he turned to look at several strange plants carefully placed on the lab bench under glass covers and asked, “Besides the ordinary wild crops, I heard you also discovered several very peculiar magical plants?”

Egnor and Chris immediately grew animated. They flanked Harvey and moved closer to the lab bench, beginning to explain enthusiastically—this was their most important discovery from the sampling trip, aside from the salty sugarcane.

Chris carefully picked up a translucent, bean-sized wild fruit with his metal arm and explained with delight, “This is a magical fruit never before discovered in the study of alchemy and magic potions. Its properties are very unique—the juice extracted from it can change to any color. The azure of the sky, the dark green of the dense forest, even the brown-black of the soil… My lord, we’ve discovered a completely new magical dye!”

Harvey stared at Chris’s movements, watching as he crushed the fruit in his hand. The transparent juice coated his originally silver-white metal palm. The stained part immediately began to change in the sunlight. As he moved his palm closer to a piece of dark black fabric, the palm rapidly changed to match its color.

A term from his past life, one that often appeared in modern warfare games, flashed through Harvey’s mind—optical camouflage!

This damn thing isn’t some magical dye! No, its function shouldn’t be limited to dyeing textiles. It’s far more suitable for military applications—for soldiers’ camouflage uniforms, or as a concealment coating for weapons and military vehicles.

“How long does this dyeing and color-changing effect last? Is it permanent?” Harvey asked impatiently.

Egnor already had the answer prepared. He said with a smile, “It’s similar to the properties of the rubber fruit. Unless you soak it in a strong brine solution to remove the color, it can maintain this color-changing state almost indefinitely. We tried dyeing a regular cotton shirt with it and had a soldier wear it for a test in the woods. It perfectly mimicked the mottled colors of the tree trunks, soil, and bushes. Even though the soldier was standing only a few dozen meters away from us, it was as if he had turned invisible on the spot, making him incredibly difficult to spot!”

Chapter 257: A Magical “Optical Camouflage”

At that moment, Harvey had only one thought in his mind— “This is a goddamn gift from Mother Nature!”

He had unintentionally discovered a substitute for the “optical camouflage” coating technology of his previous life, something that should have required nanotechnology to achieve.

To think that this special property was something a small, herbaceous magical plant could evolve naturally. It just went to show that in a world filled with extraordinary power and magical elements, there were still far too many unknown, wondrous things to be discovered.

“Prepare a detailed report on this magical plant’s growing environment, cultivation requirements, and catalyzed yield, and submit it to me as soon as possible,” Harvey said, his voice laced with urgency. “If we can apply this in large quantities to the standard-issue equipment of our army, we could very well have a powerful strike force capable of turning invisible on the barren lands!”

Chris and Egnor instantly understood Harvey’s meaning, and their perspective shifted dramatically. “My lord, you mean this thing isn’t just for dyeing some exquisite, color-changing fabrics… but should be used on the combat uniforms and equipment of soldiers, allowing them to blend perfectly into the battlefield environment and achieve an incredible concealment effect?”

Both of them drew a sharp breath. In this regard, they were truly no match for the Lord’s open-minded, bold, and wildly imaginative thinking.

…

“Commander, please lie down in the mud and hold your position for ten minutes…”

“Alright, now please lower your body further, and press yourself completely against this cluster of shrubs…”

“If you would be so kind, please submerge your head completely underwater. Ahem… we’ll provide you with a metal tube so you can breathe…”

“Could you try to bury yourself in this pile of cotton? Hehe, it’s not snowing yet, so we can’t test the color-changing effect in the snow. We’ll have to use cotton as a substitute…”

Vaughn, expressionless, wore a strange, ill-fitting cotton garment. He woodenly followed the instructions of an alchemy laboratory apprentice, repeatedly tumbling and rolling through various materials, lying prone for periods, or curling his body to hide within them.

These wet-behind-the-ears alchemy apprentices paid no mind to his status as a battalion commander in the Northern Army, continuously making him perform all sorts of ridiculous actions. They even had him try lying on the back of a stinking, long-haired wild boar to see if his clothes could blend in with its dark-black bristles.

If not for the fact that my lord Harvey was observing from a distance, he would have scowled at them impatiently long ago.

“My Lord, the preliminary results of the color-changing experiments are in…”

Harvey accepted a stack of lab reports from Chris, flipping through them quickly while listening to his report.

The dye, tentatively named “Chameleon Fruit” juice, could only be used to soak or coat non-living objects to produce its magical camouflage effect. Applying it to human or animal skin yielded no reaction at all.

Furthermore, the dye’s color-changing effect was most prominent on metal and fabric. On leather, wood, or rubber products, the effect was far less impressive.

“When simulating solid-colored objects like mud, rock, and grass, the dye’s color-changing effect is fastest, and the color mimicry is at its highest. A soldier wearing a uniform treated with this only needs to be near these objects for a few tens of seconds to quickly change the color of their clothing and achieve excellent concealment…” Chris’s report was meticulous, even specifying the dye’s reaction time down to the second.

However, in more complex environments, the color-changing reaction was slower and less accurate. It was almost completely ineffective in water, which dispelled Harvey’s theory that it could be used to achieve near-total invisibility.

And in vibrantly colored flowerbeds and indoors, it would take nearly half an hour for the color-changing reaction to slowly manifest, and the simulated color match was extremely poor, failing completely to achieve the effect of blending into the environment for concealment.

Harvey quickly grasped the core characteristic of the “Chameleon Fruit” dye—the more uniform the color of the surrounding environment, the faster and better the simulation. The more complex the environment, the worse the effect. This meant its most suitable application was on the combat uniforms, weapons, and vehicles of soldiers.

This way, whether fighting in dense forests, grasslands, or snowy fields, they could achieve the best possible visual concealment.

He beckoned the grimy Battalion Commander Vaughn over and asked in a gentle voice, “How comfortable are these clothes made with the color-changing dye? Is there any discomfort where they touch your skin?”

Vaughn scratched his head and answered honestly, “My Lord, they’re definitely not as good as our usual standard-issue uniforms. They feel a bit too rough, and there’s some slight pain when they rub against the skin… But these magical color-changing clothes would be a huge help in our surprise attacks. A little discomfort is nothing to worry about. We can just issue the soldiers some ointment for skin abrasions…”

Harvey smiled and shook his head, earnestly educating this old soldier known for his ability to endure hardship. “I’m not denying the resilience of our soldiers, but on long campaigns, even a minor skin injury can potentially lead to a serious infection. This problem must be solved.”

In his previous life, he had heard many true stories of war, such as army-issued leather boots with design flaws causing soldiers to develop “trench foot,” which ultimately led to ischemic necrosis and amputation—a non-combat casualty.

There were also the “German popsicles”—a situation that arose from misjudging the weather, leading to massive casualties from hypothermia among the German soldiers during Operation Typhoon, their blitzkrieg against the Soviet Union in World War II, which resulted in scores of them freezing to death or suffering from frostbite in Moscow.

“First, try adding a soft cotton lining to the inside of the camouflage uniforms and see if that alleviates the skin friction problem…” Harvey summoned the director of the munitions factory and instructed, “If that doesn’t work, add a few more layers, or find some soft leather to use as a substitute. In any case, you must ensure the uniforms are both breathable and warm. Don’t be too stingy with the cost.”

Chris interjected, “My Lord, for the coatings on weapons and alchemical vehicles, we won’t have to worry about these issues. As soon as Egnor has transplanted and catalyzed a large number of these plants, I can immediately begin outfitting the army with camouflaged weapons!”

Harvey nodded, telling them both to implement their plans as quickly as possible.

The day the vile orcs would march south to pillage with the coming of the new year’s winter was not far off…

…

“Among the magical plants you brought back, there’s one you haven’t submitted an experimental test report for… Is there some problem or difficulty?”

Egnor gave a wry smile and shook his head, explaining, “My Lord, it’s not that I’ve encountered any technical difficulties. It’s just that for now, we have no idea what that thing is used for. I only brought it back because it was indeed a previously undiscovered magical plant, so it was to enrich the variety of magical plants in the plantation, that’s all…”

Harvey’s curiosity was piqued. “Oh? You still haven’t discovered its use? What kind of strange magical plant is it?”

Chapter 258: The “Blood-Binding” Identification Card

Egnor pinched a silver plant leaf and handed it to Harvey with a wry smile.

“My lord, look. This is what we brought back… a completely useless magical plant.”

Harvey took it curiously. He found the leaf was shaped like a mulberry leaf, but its color was a bright silver, like tin foil. The thin leaf felt smooth in his hand, its texture very peculiar.

“This plant has never been discovered or recorded in any of the alchemy and magic potion compendiums,” Chris explained with a hint of resignation. “But I suspect it’s not a new species of magical plant. It’s because… it’s simply too useless. It has no medicinal properties, so even if it were discovered, no one would have bothered to record it.”

“Oh? No medicinal properties? Then in what form does its magical substance manifest? And how did you discover it? Was it simply because its silvery-white appearance was too conspicuous?” Harvey couldn’t help but ask.

Egnor casually picked another leaf from the collection box, took out a metal lancet, and lightly pricked his fingertip. He squeezed a drop of blood onto the leaf, and a moment later, the silver leaf began to emit a faint, pearly-white glow.

“It glows? Is that its magical property? How strange. But have you considered the possibility of using it to replace light-emitting magic stones?” Harvey felt that a glowing property wasn’t entirely useless. Whether for replacing lighting or extracting fluorescent components, it had practical value.

Egnor gave another low, wry laugh. He placed the leaf on the table, and Harvey watched as it immediately lost its glow, reverting to its dull silver color.

“My lord, this is why it’s useless… To make it emit a faint light, one must smear their own blood on it. But it seems to have some sort of memory. From then on, it will only glow in response to the touch of that specific blood’s owner… The moment contact is broken, the light vanishes.”

Harvey immediately understood what Egnor was describing. What a bizarre “blood-binding” property…

Chris followed Egnor’s example, pricking his fingertip and squeezing a drop of blood onto a new leaf. The silver leaf’s reaction was identical—it only glowed faintly when Chris touched it. The moment it left his palm, the light extinguished, and it returned to its unremarkable state.

“A single leaf can only record one person’s blood information, and after that, it will only glow upon contact with that specific individual… Once we discovered this property, we completely gave up on the fantasy of using it to replace light-emitting magic stones.” Chris was a bit dejected. Discovering a brand-new magical plant should have been a very pleasant surprise, but to get this result after numerous tedious experiments was truly quite disappointing.

Egnor grumbled, “This is even worse than those thick reeds that grow in the salt flats. You can at least press concentrated saltwater from them. They can create great value for the territory…”

Harvey stroked his chin, lost in thought for a moment, when a strange idea flashed through his mind.

Since this plant possessed a seemingly useless “blood-binding” memory, what if it were applied to the territory’s administrative work of population census and identity registration? Couldn’t it be used to create a nearly perfect, unforgeable identity verification system?

More than a year ago, when Harvey began taking in large numbers of refugees from the barren lands and the south, the issue of population registration had already become a major headache.

In this magical world where supernatural power and feudal rule coexisted, there was simply no sound or complete method for population statistics. Most nobles and feudal lords relied on their numerous tax collectors to levy taxes by tallying the number of resident households.

The process only roughly recorded a family’s population, farmland area, and the number of livestock and draft animals. At most, it would note the profession of the family’s primary laborer, making it easier for the lord to select individuals when conscripting labor.

But this entire process of population statistics could not verify personal information with one hundred percent accuracy. In other words, it relied purely on the tax collector’s memory for judgment. Once population movements occurred due to migration or wartime recruitment, these residents immediately became unregistered persons whose true identities could not be confirmed.

In his youth, Harvey himself had more than once seen migratory refugees, who were originally freeman farmers, being judged as tax-evading tenant farmers and hanged because their identities could not be confirmed.

During the period of rapid population growth in his territory, Harvey had first taken note of this problem. When a refugee was being registered, City Hall officials could only learn about their past and work experience through verbal questioning. Afterwards, they would be issued a “simple version of an identification card” that recorded their age, height, profession, and place of origin.

This led to numerous criminal cases of people stealing others’ identification documents and impersonating them to fraudulently claim salaries. The situation only eased slightly after Harvey established more comprehensive territorial laws and subjected these individuals to harsh penal labor.

In their daily patrols and case handling, the territory’s Police Department often faced the problem of being unable to perfectly match identity information with the actual criminals, which invisibly added a great deal of tedious work involving visits, confirmations, and evidence gathering.

“With this peculiar plant that possesses blood-memory, we just need to attach it to new identification documents to create personal information that is absolutely impossible to copy or forge. The staff at City Hall responsible for the census will have their workload greatly reduced, and we will have a much clearer and more precise understanding of the territory’s current population structure.”

Harvey enthusiastically explained the importance of this new magical plant to Egnor and Chris. He immediately found a piece of paper and sketched out a design for the new identification card.

“We can use printing technology to mass-produce these identification cards. Adding a waterproof coating of rubber fruit to the surface will make them resistant to damage and water, achieving a durable effect… Egnor, catalyze a batch of these magical plants immediately. The group of refugees from the south that we’re about to settle in the pioneer territories will be the perfect first users!”

After acquiring this miraculous leafy plant, Harvey had even more ideas for territorial administration.

For example, there was the Territorial Bank, located next to City Hall, which had been practically useless all this time. It was only meant to help residents apply for home loans and exchange gold yuan banknotes for metal coins. But in reality, no one was willing to make the exchange, as coins hardly circulated within the territory, and the residents, who were already settling down to live and work in peace, had no desire to leave their increasingly prosperous and bountiful new home.

With a magical identification card, the deserted Territorial Bank would finally have a great purpose. At the very least, residents would no longer have to laboriously hide their saved salaries at home. Instead, they could deposit them in the bank and withdraw large sums when needed using their own identification card.

In this way, the bank could truly fulfill the role Harvey had envisioned for it: regulating the territory’s currency circulation and commercial activities.

“From now on, the salary distribution for all jobs in the territory can be handled by the banking department…”

Chapter 259: Population Census and Identity Registration

At the refugee reception center’s shantytown, located outside the eastern city wall of the pioneer territories, thousands of plague refugees from the south, guided by soldiers of the Defense Force and officers from the Police Department, queued up for a very unique identity registration to enter the city.

Clem, deputy director of City Hall and one of the first refugees from the barren lands to join the Lord, knew very well that this hard-won population of laborers was an incredibly valuable asset. To cure them of the plague and bring them back to the Northern Realm, the Lord had spent a great deal of money and manpower. He had even dispatched the formidable soldiers of the Northern Army to go south of the mountain ranges, risking trespassing on the territories of other nobles, just to bring them back safely.

For nearly a month, the expenses had piled up: the military subsidies for the thousand-plus soldiers on assignment, the overtime pay for the Territory’s Infirmary, the maintenance and repair costs for the War Beasts and alchemical camel-beasts used for transport, and the fuel consumption for magical vehicles like the Magic Motorcycles. When the final tally was calculated, the cost was so painful that it kept Clem up at night.

And that didn’t even include the ongoing expenses at the reception center. For the nearly five thousand refugees in the shantytown outside the wall, there was the cost of food, water, medicine, and the free distribution of winter clothes. On top of that were the substantial wages paid to them for their participation in constructing the territory’s new Residential Area.

If it hadn’t been for the recent harvest season, which yielded several times more grain than in previous years, and the substantial income from plague potion exports at the beginning of the month, City Hall’s monthly financial report would have plunged directly into the red.

After all, while the gold yuan banknotes circulating within the territory were printed, the funds used for purchasing imported goods from outside required payment in real gold and silver. The two were fundamentally linked, with gold and silver coins serving as the foundational backing for the territory’s economic system.

After the refugees were brought back, to prevent a recurrence of the plague and its spread into the territory, the Lord decided to first set up a temporary reception center outside the city. They would be quarantined there for a period of adaptation and would be moved into the city in batches once the new housing was completed.

Naturally, the cumbersome and massive task of registering the refugees for city entry fell to City Hall—or more precisely, to Clem, who was in charge of the territory’s population management.

He mobilized nearly all of his dozens of officials and apprentices. Under his direction, the Construction Department erected wooden sheds and partitioned channels at the gate in the eastern city wall to classify, catalog, and file the identity information of the refugees about to enter the city.

There were five registration and inspection channels in total. At the end of each partitioned channel stood a simple wooden shed, staffed by several City Hall officials responsible for registration and issuing identification cards.

“Name… age… where is your home?”

“What was your previous occupation? I mean, what did you do for a living? Farming or a craft?”

“Are you alone or with family? How many people in your household? Do you still have family back home?”

The registering officials repeated the questions methodically. Outside the sheds, soldiers continuously shouted through megaphones: “Identity registration is required to enter the city! No one is permitted to conceal information from or deceive the registration officials! If any falsehoods are discovered, you will be immediately deported or sentenced to hard labor in the Mining Area…”

“I’m… a gardener.” A middle-aged man with somewhat graying hair approached the registration desk cautiously. “I don’t know how to do anything but tend to flowers and plants. Would the Lord have a need for someone like me? Please, don’t send me back to the south. My entire family died in the plague…”

The refugees waiting in line to be registered had been whispering among themselves. It seemed this Lord of the barren lands favored farmers who could cultivate crops and artisans who could forge weapons for him. Any refugee who declared one of these two professions was prioritized, taken from the registration point, and sent directly into the city.

“A gardener?” The young City Hall official looked up, a bit stunned. Beside him was a box of identification cards with different compartments, each holding a thick stack of blank, un-bound cards. The compartments were labeled with over a dozen professions such as farmer, blacksmith, carpenter, mason, miner, weaver, physician, and carter, but there was no “gardener” category.

After all, a job that exclusively served the manors and villas of noble lords was a rare sight in the Northern Barren Lands.

Clem, who was making his rounds, immediately noticed the issue here and came over. “What’s your name? Can you read?” he asked.

The middle-aged man paused, wringing his hands nervously. “My lord… my name is Neil. I can read… but not much.”

Clem nodded and pulled out a blank identification card with no profession marked on it. “Being literate is enough. Come… give me your hand.”

He quickly used a repeatedly sterilized metal probe to draw a drop of blood and smeared it onto the blank card. The middle-aged man watched in amazement as the palm-sized piece of paper immediately emitted a faint, milky-white glow.

Clem handed the identification card to the man, then turned his head and instructed a soldier on standby, “This is a skilled individual with a special profession, and he’s literate. Send him to My lord Egnor’s Territory’s Infirmary. He might get a job at the magical herb garden.”

“Alright, next…”

A few young apprentices following Clem couldn’t help but ask in a low voice, “Teacher, what if they just make up an identity to get into the city and fraudulently obtain a job and housing benefits?”

Clem let out a derisive snort and pulled out his own identification card from his pocket, waving it in his hand.

“Each of you has been issued one of these new ID cards, so you should be well aware that they don’t just record your name, age, and profession. They will later be updated with a residential address and a serial number. Moreover, they only have that special glowing effect when held by the owner themselves…”

Even if someone managed to deceive the staff during registration and enter the city with a fraudulently obtained identification card and job, their lack of actual work experience would quickly expose them. Then, the police officers from the Police Department would immediately use the address on their identification card to rush to their home and arrest them.

“At that point, according to the territory’s laws, these people will be sent directly to the Mining Area to serve three to five years of hard labor. The director of the Mining Area would be more than happy to get his hands on some free labor that doesn’t even require a salary. He’d probably be laughing in his sleep…”

Furthermore, in the future, the identification card would be required for everything from purchasing housing and collecting salaries to receiving festival benefits. It was completely impossible to impersonate someone or easily forge one. Even loitering idly on the streets at night could lead to a spot check by patrolling police officers. If one couldn’t produce an ID card that glowed to prove one’s identity on the spot, they would be immediately cuffed in metal shackles and hauled away.

Addressing the apprentices he was personally mentoring, Clem couldn’t help but say with a sigh, “The invention and application of this kind of identification card have brought an incredible amount of convenience and benefits to our work at City Hall… Believe me, you will all deeply appreciate this in your future work!”

Chapter 260: One-Day Tour Guide

On his day off, Yuliao rose bright and early. After washing up quickly, he was ready to head out.

Old Man Kolun poked his head out of the kitchen and hurriedly called out to him, “Little Yuliao! Why are you going out so early on your day off? Stay and have breakfast with me before you go…”

Yuliao paused, then turned and walked into the kitchen, which was toasty and warm from the stove. With his mechanical arm, he deftly plucked a buttered pancake directly from the sizzling pan on the stove and casually stuffed it into his mouth, chewing heartily.

“Mmm… Dad, your cooking is getting better and better. Why don’t you quit your teaching job at the school and apply to be the head chef at the public diner in the Market District?”

His slightly exaggerated compliment made Old Man Kolun laugh out loud. He couldn’t help but lift his spatula and gently tap Yuliao’s metal prosthetic, which gleamed with a brassy luster. “Alright, out with it. You’re going out on your day off, and in your uniform, no less. Has the Lord assigned you another mission?”

Yuliao nodded, explaining succinctly, “A guest from Jackdaw Town is visiting the territory by invitation today. The Lord himself has appointed me to receive him and act as his… tour guide.”

Jin Gavin, the “Eye of Illusion,” squinted as he stepped out of the massive War Beast. It was his first time riding in such a magical alchemical vehicle, and he found the experience incredibly novel.

When he first received the invitation, he had planned to use a flight spell to cross Raven Ridge and arrive directly. Ultimately, however, he had underestimated the height of the Spine of the Continent Mountains and the temperature of the border barren lands.

Forget flying directly over the towering, snow-capped mountain range; his mana reserves as a high-level caster were insufficient to even last the journey to the pioneer territories. Visiting the domain of an unknown spellcaster while in a state of near-mana exhaustion was not a wise choice.

Riding this strange alchemical carriage was clearly the better option. Despite traveling through rugged mountains and forests, the ride was remarkably smooth and swift. It had departed at midnight the previous day and, in just over half a day, arrived at its destination as the morning sun was rising.

Just as he stepped down from the War Beast, a familiar figure approached, extending that agile and powerful mechanical prosthetic to shake his hand in greeting.

“Welcome to the Northern pioneer territories, Mr. Eye of Illusion. I am the one the Lord has designated to guide and receive you. Do you remember me?” Yuliao said with a polite smile.

Eye of Illusion nodded, returning the smile. “Mr. Yuliao, of course I remember. You made quite a profound impression, I must say…”

As he spoke, he pointed at the other man’s gleaming mechanical prosthetic and winked teasingly.

Yuliao, insensitive to the reserved humor common among spellcasters, simply continued in a serious tone, “War Beasts are not permitted to travel within the city. They would damage the flat roads. So, you…”

“I can walk to the Lord’s Castle… I was hoping to see the sights of the territory along the way, anyway.”

Eye of Illusion showed none of the airs of an esteemed guest, striding casually toward the city. Yuliao quickly fell into step beside him.

The young high-level caster soon understood what the other man meant by “flat roads.”

The streets throughout the territory were exceptionally flat and wide, without a single pothole or muddy patch, let alone the usual pools of filthy water. The road surface appeared to be paved with the gray river pebbles commonly found on riverbanks, with some kind of mortar filling the gaps. Yet, there was no dust or debris; it was as if the entire surface had been poured and solidified into a single, smooth slab.

What surprised him even more was that it wasn’t just the road to the Lord’s Castle that was built this way. Every few hundred meters, there was a perfectly intersecting crossroads, laid out like the squares of a chessboard. Conspicuous signposts, forged from extravagant metal, were erected at the intersections.

They passed two small public gardens along the way. Eye of Illusion couldn’t help but pause for a moment, watching the groups of children laughing and playing in the gardens, accompanied by their parents.

The clear ringing of a bell sounded from behind. He had just turned when he saw several youths, clearly apprentices, ride past on strange, wheeled metal frames, laughing as they sped by.

The residents here seemed well-educated, appearing remarkably polite and civilized. Even an old man sweeping fallen leaves stopped his work to smile and tip his hat to the two of them.

There were no little beggars with grimy, outstretched hands, no streets overflowing with sewage and filth. He hadn’t even seen any private soldiers manning a toll gate for an entry tax at the city entrance.

“Is… is this really a pioneer territory outside the kingdom’s borders?” the spellcaster couldn’t help but sigh in astonishment. “I have never seen such a sight, not even in Araye, the most prosperous City of Magic on the entire continent…”

He turned politely to Yuliao and asked, “This must be Mr. Kel’Thuzad’s family demesne, correct? I wonder how many generations have been managing it in these northern barren lands to achieve its current level of prosperity and wealth.”

Yuliao was taken aback for a moment. He chose his words carefully before slowly replying, “That’s not the case. The pioneer territories were established about two years ago. The Lord built and developed them from scratch. Like these roads under your feet, and those exquisite little gardens, they were only completed a year ago.”

He paused, subconsciously adjusting the collar of his uniform, and continued, “Life was rather difficult in the beginning. It was all thanks to the Lord, who paid out of his own pocket to distribute food and build houses for the people. During that first winter, we didn’t have a single case of someone freezing or starving to death…”

Eye of Illusion keenly noticed the undisguised pride and satisfaction in the man’s tone, as if he was immensely proud to be a member of this territory, sharing in the honor of its vibrant and prosperous state.

Mr. Kel’Thuzad wasn’t managing his wizard family’s demesne… but had started from scratch in the Northern Barren Lands with nothing but a Pioneer’s Decree, and built a massive pioneer city with a population comparable to that of a small southern kingdom’s capital… This was too incredible!

The streets were lined with neat rows of lush trees. Sunlight filtered through the dense foliage, casting mottled patches of golden light on the ground. He didn’t see a single low, dilapidated wooden shack—the residents here all lived in squarish, gray stone brick houses. Each building was two to three stories high and nearly identical in style, either detached or terraced. It was obvious they had been constructed by the same group of stonemasons.

In just two years, Mr. Kel’Thuzad had transformed a barren, primitive land into a private domain as prosperous as Araye. If he hadn’t relied on his family’s power and assistance, how on earth did he accomplish it?

His mind filled with doubt and amazement, Eye of Illusion, at Yuliao’s polite urging, reluctantly concluded his walking tour of the territory and arrived at the Lord’s Castle district. After calmly submitting to a search by several of the castle’s personal guards, he officially stepped inside the Lord’s Castle.

“Those personal guards who searched me… their bodies uncontrollably exuded a dense bloodline power. They must be Bloodline Warriors and wizard squires trained by the Lord. Judging by the intensity of the power they’re emitting, it seems they were all awakened using high-rank bloodline potions…” Eye of Illusion marveled silently. Only now did it truly feel like he was visiting a spellcaster’s domain, and he couldn’t help but begin to feel a little nervous.

Yuliao pushed open the carved double doors of the reception hall and, gesturing for him to enter, led Eye of Illusion inside. He soon saw the spellcaster lord—and the sole real-world agent of the Magic Net Forum, Mr. Kel’Thuzad—seated in the host’s chair at the head of a long table.

“Welcome to my pioneer territories,” Harvey said, rising with a smile. “Mr. Eye of Illusion.”

Chapter 261: Soul Transfer and Prosthetic Transplants

The Eye of Illusion felt that this spellcaster lord, who looked even younger than himself, had certain habits that seemed to defy common convention.

For instance, during what was supposed to be a formal meeting between two high-level casters, the other party had chosen to discuss matters over lunch. To the Eye of Illusion, who hailed from an ancient wizard family, this was rather improper.

“So, Mr. Eye of Illusion… your teacher’s current physical condition is stable enough that he could come here at any time to undergo the transplant surgery?”

The Eye of Illusion quickly set down his wine glass, sat up straight, and said solemnly, “That’s correct. Although he lost both legs and an arm, under the meticulous care of Benoit… er, Mr. Mithril Unicorn, my teacher’s body has mostly recovered. He can at least withstand the rigors of travel.”

Harvey hummed in acknowledgment, spearing a piece of tender, pan-fried lamb with a silver fork and chewing on it, a slight frown on his face as he seemed to be pondering something.

The Eye of Illusion felt a little awkward and could only pick up his own utensils to politely dine alongside him. However, the pan-fried lamb, marinated in red wine, was indeed exquisite—leagues better than anything the chef at the inn in Jackdaw Town could prepare…

And then there was the exceptionally flavorful wild mushroom soup. The chef had actually used alchemical plants as spices, simmering them into the broth. A few sips were enough to feel a slight nourishment to his spirit and the mana pathways in his body. What a luxury!

Wait! I’m here to request and discuss my teacher’s transplant surgery! How can I be indulging in such worldly food and wine!

The Eye of Illusion’s expression twitched. He forced himself to break free from the allure of the fine dining, struggling to raise his head and resume the previous topic. “Mr. Kel’Thuzad, if my teacher arrives in your domain in two months, when might the surgery be performed? Forgive my impertinence, but Ms. Astrologer and I are still concerned about the procedure’s safety and success rate…”

Harvey took the warm, damp towel offered by a servant, wiped his mouth, and clapped his hands with a smile. “You must have been worrying about this for quite some time, and now you’re probably in no mood to enjoy the food and wine… Very well, please follow me to the laboratory. I will explain the transplant procedure in detail, along with any potential risks…”

…

Staring at the spacious, brightly lit, and fully equipped underground laboratory before him, the Eye of Illusion couldn’t help but exclaim, “I’ve never seen a magical laboratory of this scale in the circles of independent spellcasters… I imagine only the leaders of the Federation in Araye would have the resources and ability to build such a place…”

In the center of the vast laboratory hall stood several giant brass columns, four to five meters tall, placed side by side. Countless silver and black metal tubes connected them to a variety of other magical instruments. The colossal devices seemed to be in a constant state of operation, emitting a faint, low-pitched hum.

At the far end of the laboratory, away from the entrance, were several cubicles partitioned with crystal glass. The glass walls were densely covered with inscribed diagrams for ritual magic, appearing to be a spell testing ground. This kind of enchanted crystal glass was incredibly expensive; in the entire south, no one but the Alchemical Exploration Society could replicate it for mass-production.

Behind the giant brass columns were several large teleportation circles, enclosed in special metal cages. They appeared to be the instantaneous teleportation arrays of the Magic Net, which members of the Spellcaster Forum used most frequently.

Beside a row of silvery-white metal lab tables stood two metal frames holding alchemical cybernetics. Next to them was a vertical operating table fitted with numerous straps, buckles, and restraints.

“Mr. Kel’Thuzad… must have conducted a great deal of live magical experiments…”

The Eye of Illusion silently surveyed his surroundings but didn’t ask about the purpose of the various instruments. This was a fundamental rule of etiquette in the magical world—one must never rashly inquire about the results or progress of another’s magical experiments.

Harvey, still accompanied by his hand-picked “local guide” Yuliao, began to disassemble the man’s brass-colored mechanical prosthetic, personally performing some simple adjustments and maintenance along the way.

“Mr. Eye of Illusion, you can now see the internal structure of this alchemical prosthetic firsthand. I’m afraid I cannot share the transplant technology involved, but the procedure does carry certain risks. Neither my assistant nor I can give you a one-hundred-percent guarantee of its safety…”

He pointed to a part resembling a metal axle on the disassembled prosthetic and patiently explained, “This is the energy core that drives the entire limb. To maintain its long-term operation, besides regular maintenance, the most crucial factor is the recipient’s own soul and mental fortitude. Otherwise, the prosthetic will be like a dead object and will quickly experience a rejection reaction with the recipient’s flesh and blood.”

The Eye of Illusion had no experience with the arcane arts of alchemy, but he could roughly grasp Harvey’s explanation. He asked hesitantly, “Once a rejection reaction occurs, the prosthetic will malfunction, and the point of connection with the living body will begin to rot and decay. Is that a correct understanding?”

Harvey nodded. “Correct. You can think of it as being similar to sepsis, a complication of a severed limb that is far more fatal than a simple wound infection. When inflicted upon a spellcaster, whose body is already relatively frail, the effects are even more severe.”

Yuliao stroked the healed stump of his arm and interjected, a lingering fear in his voice, “When my arm was severed, if someone hadn’t immediately cauterized the wound with a red-hot iron, I would have either bled to death or died from a severe infection.”

The Eye of Illusion couldn’t help but shudder, not daring to imagine what would have happened to Teacher Duncan. If Benoit hadn’t saved him in time and fed him copious amounts of priceless, high-rank healing potions, he likely would have suffered terribly before ultimately succumbing to death.

“So… Mr. Kel’Thuzad, the risk you mentioned for the transplant surgery refers to the issue of wound decay and infection, correct?”

Harvey shook his head with a wry smile. “The issue of infection is something I can completely avoid and resolve… The real difficulty is that the more extensive the loss of limbs, the more soul and mental energy is required to power the prosthetics. This can lead to the recipient’s own soul being suppressed by the Soul Core within the alchemical cybernetics. If the primary soul loses its dominance, it can lead to unpredictable, dangerous consequences.”

He raised a finger toward two beakers of different-colored magical reagents on the lab table and offered an analogy. “If we consider this red potion to be your teacher, Mr. Duncan, and these three blue potions to be the prosthetic limbs he needs…”

Harvey picked up the blue potions and poured them into the beaker containing the red one, silently watching as the liquid gradually turned indigo. “See the color? It’s like the recipient’s soul—its very nature has been altered.”

The Eye of Illusion stared blankly at the indigo solution, which had been overwhelmed by the blue potion. After a moment, he snapped back to his senses and asked in a trembling voice, “You mean that if too many limbs are transplanted, it will severely affect the recipient’s own soul and mind, leading to a drastic personality change or mental confusion?”

Harvey said gravely, “I have never used a live experiment to verify this, so I cannot give you a precise answer. However, it’s highly likely that outcomes we would both find unacceptable could occur… Severe amnesia, intellectual impairment, sensory disarray, and loss of coordination are all possibilities.”

After all, this was a risky experiment that involved stitching several souls together. He certainly didn’t want the Eye of Illusion’s teacher to have his own soul eroded and assimilated by the souls from the transplanted limbs, only to end up as a humanoid chimpanzee who did nothing but drool and chew on bananas all day.

Chapter 262: The Secret of Shapeshifting Magic

Eye of Illusion leaned on the laboratory bench with both hands, his brows tightly furrowed in silence.

Indeed, allowing someone with missing limbs to receive prosthetic transplants that were just as flexible and compatible as their original flesh and blood was, in a sense, infinitely close to the long-lost “Art of Flesh Regeneration” from ancient times. It was said that the Radiant Church still possessed a modified version of this regenerative art, but it was a forbidden divine art used to rejuvenate the dying who were succumbing to old age.

For such a miraculous and powerful alchemical art to be performed so easily, without the recipient bearing any risk or cost, was almost impossible.

“If the transplant surgery for both legs and one arm were performed simultaneously, the risk would be three times as high… If he only received a transplant for one arm, the success rate would be much higher. Just like that Mr. Yuliao I know, he quickly adapted to his new metal limb and seems no different from a normal, able-bodied person.”

Harvey noticed his hesitation and worry and comforted him in a low voice, “If you’re considering the surgical risk, I suggest choosing to transplant only some of the limbs. For a Spellcaster or an ordinary person, the arms are more important. A lower-body disability can be compensated for with a wheelchair.”

Eye of Illusion raised a hand to rub his somewhat stiff face and sighed softly. “That’s what I thought at first, too, but… you don’t understand. My teacher, Mr. Duncan, is a high-rank Arcane Caster who specializes in transformation magic. Even within the Federation, he is an outstanding figure, a genius…”

He closed his eyes, continuing with some reluctance, “If he can’t regain a whole body, he’ll never be able to cast the transformation magic he excels at again. For a battle mage, that’s an almost unacceptable outcome.”

Harvey opened his mouth but didn’t say the words that rose to his lips. He had no surgical experiments to verify that a high-rank transformation Mage could still cast transformation magic normally after having alchemical prosthetics implanted into his body.

From what he understood, the transformation magic of Arcane Casters relied entirely on mana to drive the mimicry and transformation of flesh and blood. It also required unique transformation potions, which were mixed with large amounts of flesh from the magical creatures being emulated. Only then could the most perfect transformation be achieved, allowing the caster to acquire the target creature’s powerful traits.

With a significant portion of his flesh-and-blood body missing, just changing form would likely have its limitations, let alone the potential for abnormal transformations during the casting of transformation magic after implanting prosthetics made of metal.

If he ended up turning the man’s teacher into some magical Transformer made of mixed flesh and machinery, the thought was rather horrifying.

Thinking of this, Harvey decided it was best to get a deeper understanding of the “patient’s” situation before making plans. He asked cautiously, “Mr. Eye of Illusion, did you also study the school of transformation magic under Mr. Duncan? Are you also an Arcane Caster?”

The topic suddenly shifted to him, and Eye of Illusion found it a bit strange. He deliberated for a moment before answering, “I am an Arcane Caster who studies both illusion and transformation magic… Why? Is there something you need to know about the schools of arcane casting?”

From his limited knowledge gleaned from the Forum, Eye of Illusion vaguely remembered that this Mr. Kel’Thuzad was a high-rank elemental caster who also studied alchemy, and that he specialized in an exceptionally niche school of non-basic elements.

The experimental research paper on electromagnetic magic he uploaded to the Magic Net Forum’s encyclopedia showed that he had likely studied this path in great depth, achieving a perfect synthesis of theory and practice.

Harvey realized the other man had seemingly misunderstood him, thinking he was trying to pry into his school of magic and power level. He couldn’t help but shake his head and give a wry smile.

“What I mean is, if you’re willing, you could use the transformation magic you learned from your teacher to give me a demonstration. That way, I can better understand its characteristics, which would help in designing and manufacturing the prosthetics to avoid many of the transplant risks.”

…

In the castle’s underground Laboratory, Harvey dismissed Yuliao and several soldiers guarding the lab, leaving only the four Bloodline Warrior personal guards who insisted on ensuring his safety.

Normally, when a Spellcaster demonstrates and discusses magic with a peer, no one else should be present. This was both a matter of adhering to the etiquette of ancient wizards and a way to ensure the secret knowledge within the magic wasn’t easily leaked.

However, warrior squires who had completed a bloodline bond with a Spellcaster were an exception. After all, in the eyes of most old-fashioned, traditional wizards, they weren’t considered independent individuals but more like weapons and tools revolving around their wizard master.

Eye of Illusion took a crystal test tube containing a half-full measure of thick, black liquid from his magic storage ring. He explained apologetically, “Transformation magic has exceptionally high talent requirements for a Spellcaster. Although I’ve studied with my teacher for nearly ten years, I’ve only learned how to shapeshift into one type of magical creature. And I didn’t bring much of the shapeshifting potion this time, so I can only demonstrate it for you once.”

After getting Eye of Illusion’s permission, Harvey took the shapeshifting potion and examined it with great interest. Unlike common alchemical potions and magic potions, this special magical catalyst, as dark and thick as ink, made Harvey’s flesh, blood, and mana pathways stir restlessly the moment it touched his palm, even through the enchanted crystal test tube.

At the same time, his skin began to itch slightly, creating the unsettling illusion that he was about to sprout coarse beast fur.

“So to transform into and mimic a magical creature, you have to find the flesh and blood of that species and add it to this casting potion. Doesn’t that mean that the transformation Mages of ancient times who could turn into terrifying Wyrms had to…”

Eye of Illusion took back the potion from Harvey and replied with considerable pride, “Correct. To transform into a draconic creature, one must have the ability to hunt and acquire their flesh… My teacher comes from the oldest wizard family in the south. During the Dragon War, a Legendary wizard from his family transformed into a powerful ancient Wyrm to fight against the true Dragon race.”

The moment he said this, Harvey’s mind flashed back to the history Astalun had told him. Weren’t the ancient wizards who traveled deep into the Northern Barren Lands to establish the Kingdom of Eternal Night the very same wizard family that sought advancement by fighting Dragons and called themselves by the title of “Dragon Chaser”?

Could there be some unknown connection between the two? Or was Mr. Eye of Illusion’s teacher actually a descendant of a branch of this “Dragon Chaser” wizard family, one that was simply forgotten in the south when the family migrated?

It wasn’t appropriate to discuss such secret histories directly. Harvey collected his scattered thoughts and gestured politely. “Mr. Eye of Illusion, please, go ahead and show me the high-rank transformation magic of an Arcane Caster…”

Chapter 263: A Safeguard for the Surgery

“Er… Mr. Eye of Illusion, are you sure you don’t need to take off your clothes before casting the transformation magic? Or I could have someone prepare a change of clothes for you in advance?”

Harvey watched the young high-level caster earnestly preparing for the casting ritual and offered a tactful suggestion.

“Haha! No need to worry. My robe is a magic artifact itself. It can be directly absorbed and attached to my skin, so it won’t be damaged by the transformation.”

Fire and transformation casters were fond of refining magic artifacts into personal clothing and robes. After all, whether it was for a Flame Body technique or high-rank shapeshifting magic, ending up naked on the spot after the spell ended was an affront to any high-level caster’s dignity.

The Eye of Illusion did not rely on a single shapeshifting potion to complete the spell. Instead, he took out several other casting materials from his storage ring that appeared to have been extracted from some kind of beast-type magical creature. Then, using a magical solvent instead of ink, he quickly drew a small ritual circle on the clean, shiny laboratory floor. He stepped into the center of the circle and began to silently chant an incantation.

So, Arcane Casters’ shapeshifting magic can’t be cast instantly. They all require cumbersome ritual preparations. It’s no wonder most transformation Mages also study other similar schools of Arcane Magic. It’s rare to see a purely specialized transformation Mage, Harvey thought to himself as he stood to the side.

The incantation the Eye of Illusion was using was not the common continental tongue of today. Harvey was not well-versed in the discipline of incantations; he could only barely discern a mix of Beastfolk language and Ancient Wizard tongue, making the chant sound rather strange and tongue-twisting.

After a long incantation, the Eye of Illusion uncorked the glass test tube and downed the half-tube of thick, black potion. His body then began to twist unnaturally, accompanied by the creaking and scraping of deforming bones.

His body started to rapidly swell and grow. Clumps of thick, coarse, grayish-black fur sprouted from his skin. The short mage robe he was wearing gradually vanished into his skin, followed by the transformation Mage’s ragged, heavy breathing.

Several minutes later, the Eye of Illusion completed the transformation spell. A four-to-five-meter-tall humanoid monster with a wolf’s head stood slightly hunched in the center of the ritual circle. It turned its head, aiming its crimson eyes at Harvey, who was waiting nearby. This prompted the four Bloodline Warriors to draw their longswords and gather around, poised for a fight.

Harvey, however, keenly observed that a glint of humanity still shone in the werewolf’s eyes; they conveyed no hostility or desire to attack.

“Mr. Eye of… Illusion?” Harvey asked tentatively, only to be answered by a low wolf’s howl. It seemed a caster was unable to speak or communicate like a human during the transformation.

The werewolf mage suddenly blinked, a playful and provocative look flashing in its eyes. It raised a thick, fur-covered arm and pointed at one of the personal guard soldiers standing in front of Harvey, who had already activated his “Great Strength” bloodline talent.

“It seems Mr. Eye of Illusion wants to spar with you. Don’t use your weapon, and be careful…”

Harvey gave the eager guard an encouraging pat. The moment he finished speaking, the soldier let out a heavy breath and lunged forward.

The Bloodline Warrior charged at the werewolf, meeting its massive, swinging fist head-on. He reflexively crossed his arms to shield his face.

With a loud thump, the personal guard staggered back two steps. After steadying himself, he lunged forward, planting his feet and throwing a heavy punch in retaliation. The punch was aimed straight for the werewolf’s chest, but halfway there, it suddenly changed direction and shot toward its opponent’s ribs.

A faint smile touched Harvey’s lips. This was a trick Pierce had mentioned during their close-combat training for fighting grey wolves—the weakness of canine beasts was summed up in the saying: “a head of copper, bones of iron, but a waist of tofu.”

The werewolf reacted with incredible speed. It twisted its torso sharply, dodging the fatal “kidney strike,” and shot out a clawed hand, aiming for the Bloodline Warrior’s groin like a bolt of lightning.

“Mr. Eye of Illusion’s attack style becomes so crude and direct after transforming…” Harvey couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.

The personal guard brought his hands down, grabbing the werewolf’s incoming arm. Just as he was about to take a deep breath and swing the beast—which stood a full head taller than him—sideways, the werewolf silently opened its massive, bloody maw and clamped down on the back of his neck.

If the werewolf had applied even a little more force, the guard’s neck would have been instantly snapped, with no chance of survival.

Harvey smiled and began to clap. He called the guard, who was blushing with shame, to step back and soothed him in a calm voice, “Your combat experience is a bit lacking, but to be able to withstand an attack from a four-to-five-meter-tall giant werewolf head-on… you used your talent quite well.”

The Eye of Illusion ended the transformation spell. After another series of grinding sounds from his bones and muscles, he slowly returned to his original slender, scholarly appearance. The robe that had been absorbed into his skin reappeared on his body.

“If I use the transformation spell at full power, I can maintain the werewolf form for about an hour. During this time, I gain the werewolf’s innate talents for magic resistance, bloodlust, and night vision…” he explained the spell’s effects to Harvey.

Harvey nodded and walked over to the lab bench, quickly jotting down his observations of the transformation magic with a pen and paper.

“So… if it were your teacher, Mr. Duncan, how long could he maintain the spell? Besides the werewolf form, are there other, more mana-intensive beast forms?”

The Eye of Illusion fell silent for a moment before answering in a low voice, “Besides the werewolf form, my teacher also specializes in avian transformations… Of course, for the last ten-odd years, he’s been researching how to replicate the form of a certain Wyrm-type Demonic beast. Unfortunately, he only managed to cast it once in a moment of crisis, and that’s when the accident happened…”

So that’s how it is, Harvey thought. So when they reached out to me on the Forum for help, it was to deal with the after-effects of their teacher’s failed transformation. The risks of this ancient wizardry, originating from the ancient wizards, are truly immense.

“I have a safer proposal, but it will require your teacher to make the final decision after I’ve met him in person.”

The Eye of Illusion’s eyes widened in pleasant surprise. “A safer method? Can it also restore my teacher’s body to its complete state? Please, tell me now! I’ll relay it to my teacher and the Astrologer, I beg you!”

Harvey pointed to a brand-new set of alchemical cybernetics hanging on a metal rack and said softly, “I suggest we proceed with the transplant surgery as planned. However, if the surgery fails or any problems arise, we will immediately transfer your teacher’s entire soul into an alchemical body. Our technology in this area is already quite mature…”

“What? Soul transfer? Placing a living person’s soul into an alchemical construct? This… isn’t this the most crucial part of the Life Alchemy project the Esoteric Society has been pursuing all this time? Don’t tell me… you’ve already cracked it?”

The Eye of Illusion was so shocked he could barely speak, his question coming out in a flustered rush.

Harvey smiled and gestured toward Rainer and Astalun, who were walking in through the laboratory door. He explained with a light chuckle, “That’s right. These two assistants of mine are alchemical lifeforms housing human souls. If your teacher accepts this proposal, we will need to sign a magical secrecy pact. I’d rather not have the Federation and the Church showing up at my door to investigate…”

Chapter 264: The Half-Elf’s Kinsmen

Egnor, the director of the Territory’s Infirmary, finished his day’s work, changed out of his clean white uniform, and put on a formal suit in the style popular among the territory’s gentlemen. He then began a leisurely walk toward the Alchemy Laboratory.

Tonight, he had made plans with Chris, the director of the Alchemy Laboratory, to visit the alchemical plant garden and see a peculiar magical plant that only bloomed at night.

The pioneer territories today were completely different from when he had first arrived. It was hard to imagine that this place was once the ruins of an ancient mage’s city. Now, it was covered in hard, flat, dark gray roads. On either side of the tree-lined streets stood neat rows of cement houses, with the ground floors used as shops and the second floors for daily living.

However, this new Residential Area was not yet heavily populated. The territory’s City Hall had only recently listed the properties, and they were still for sale.

At the intersections, residents of the territory constantly stopped to look at the houses. They were most likely families coming for a viewing after work. Each family was accompanied by a young City Hall apprentice, who enthusiastically explained the advantages of the new homes to the potential buyers.

The townhouses were set back about seven or eight meters from the street, separated by a lush green lawn and a drainage ditch covered with stone slabs, creating a clear boundary. He had heard that if you bought a house, you could fence off the lawn in front and the yard behind, gaining a complimentary garden plot.

He had to admit, compared to the prosperous but densely populated and architecturally chaotic City of Magic, Araye, the urban landscape of the pioneer territories was significantly more orderly and clean. The houses, roads, shops, and trees were all neatly planned and placed in fixed positions, like pieces on a chessboard.

It was a kind of uniform beauty, much like the magical plants he cultivated in rows in the alchemical plant garden, arranged in perfect harmony. In my lord Harvey’s words, this was the pure beauty of order.

These days, Egnor was quite renowned within the territory. Unlike the low-key Astaren and Rainer, who disliked public appearances, or the perpetually stern Pierce, he lacked the typical arrogance of a Spellcaster. In his daily work of receiving and treating the residents who came to the infirmary, his attitude was exceptionally gentle and patient, making people feel completely at ease.

The pedestrians he encountered along the way would nod or tip their hats in greeting, respectfully calling him My lord Egnor. However, compared to honorifics like “My lord” or “Lord” that denoted high status, he much preferred the title “Director,” which sounded both friendly and professional.

After crossing two streets in the new Residential Area, he could see the Alchemy Laboratory where Chris worked. The Laboratory was nominally affiliated with the Industrial Department but was a special institution that operated independently. It had always maintained a close working relationship with the infirmary’s potion research and development department.

Just as Egnor reached the entrance, he saw an official from the City Hall’s Population Department walking out alongside Chris.

“My lord Egnor, you’ve come at the perfect time!” the young official said with a smile as he bowed. “The city entry registration office sent someone to inform us that seven or eight people have arrived from the south. They’re holding personal letters of recommendation from you and Director Chris, but they’re currently being held at the city gate because their identities can’t be verified. I hurried over to let you both know…”

He gave an embarrassed cough, as if choosing his words carefully. He raised a hand and pointed shyly at his own ear. “They look… as though they might be your kinsmen.”

“It’s Sandra!” Egnor exclaimed, exchanging an excited look with Chris. “Let’s go to the city gate registration office! We have to welcome him personally!”

…

He and Chris hurried to the South Gate, where a familiar figure standing before the registration office’s shack came into view. Egnor looked closely and saw that it was indeed Sandra, his dear friend and kinsman from the south, who also shared his half-elf bloodline.

“Mr. Egnor! Golden Trees above! It really is you!” The young kinsman had sharp eyes and spotted the two approaching in a rush. He jumped up and down with excitement, waving his hands.

Chris took an entry permit personally signed by Harvey from his coat and handed it to the Defense Force Captain. “These are specially recruited talents approved by the Lord. It’s getting a bit late today, so I will take them to City Hall tomorrow to register their information.”

The Defense Force Captain saluted, took the entry permit, and examined it carefully. “My lord, before they are officially registered, they are only permitted to stay in the guesthouse for visitors. That’s the rule… I ask for your understanding.”

Egnor was long accustomed to the professional, by-the-book attitude of these commoner soldiers. He smiled, not minding at all. “That’s fine. Let’s get them settled in the guesthouse for now. It must have been a hard journey.”

Finally allowed to pass, Sandra quickly caught up with them and muttered in a low voice, “Are these city guards the lord’s personal guard? They’re so strict. They nearly asked for my entire family history. A small bag of silver coins did nothing to persuade them…”

Chris couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “A bag of silver coins? How many?”

“Ten whole coins!” Sandra answered honestly after a moment of surprise.

“Hahahahaha!” Chris and Egnor exchanged a look and burst out laughing at the same time. “Even if the territory’s laws didn’t forbid it, that small amount of money wouldn’t be nearly enough to bribe these soldiers. Their minimum monthly salary is one hundred twenty gold yuan, which… well, it’s an equivalent amount in silver coins.”

“What’s a gold yuan? The lord’s privately minted coins? But… one hundred twenty silver coins, that’s more than a gold pound! How can a common soldier earn such a high stipend? Does the Lord here own several gold and silver mines?”

Egnor stopped laughing and replied in a serious tone, “You can’t apply what you’ve seen in the cities of the noble lords in the south to our territory. Compared to those private soldiers of the nobles, who line their pockets by collecting entry taxes and extorting commoners, the soldiers of the pioneer territories are paid as well as lesser nobles or small landowners with small fiefs. Naturally, they have no desire to bully and exploit others.”

“Moreover, the Military Law in the territory is strict. Extortion, pillaging, or accepting bribes are strictly forbidden. Anyone caught is sent to the Military Court. The lightest sentence is dismissal from the army, while a severe one could mean a sentence of hard labor.”

But as technical officials, Chris and Egnor clearly weren’t very interested in the territory’s policies and laws. They quickly changed the subject. “Sandra, we sent you a letter three months ago. Why did it take you so long to arrive? And we didn’t hear anything from you in the meantime. We were afraid something had happened to you…”

Sandra sighed and said in a low voice, “As you know, I was imprisoned at the Federation branch in Oland. At first, they said they were going to send me back to Norien to be judged by the Elves, but then, for some reason, they just kept delaying. If you two hadn’t pulled some strings through your connections in Araye, who knows how much longer we would have been rotting in that prison…”

Half-elves like Sandra were actually slightly different from Egnor. Most of them had some elven blood from their ancestors, but their non-human heritage was already very diluted. Apart from retaining some characteristic elven features, many of them no longer possessed a natural affinity for the elements.

After Egnor had established himself in the territory through his hard work and exceptional abilities, his first thought was of this distant kinsman, still languishing in a prison in Oland. He immediately pleaded with Harvey to use his high-level connections within the Federation to have them released and invited to the pioneer territories to serve the Lord.

For this group of mixed-blood talents born with a natural aptitude for magic potions, Harvey’s policy was “the more, the better.” With a wave of his hand, he agreed to their request to join the territory.

Chapter 265: The Pioneer Territories’ Three Essentials for a Comfortable Life

Sandra and his group were taken to the territory’s guesthouse to rest for the night. Early the next morning, Egnor dragged them to City Hall to register their identities. Chris, as one of their sponsors, also took half a day off work to accompany them.

“Young Sandra, what do you think of the pioneer territories compared to the other cities you’ve been to in the south? Any differences?”

Hearing Chris’s question, Egnor couldn’t help but roll his eyes in exasperation. This guy was about to start showing off again.

The young half-blood vampire was quite honest. After looking around, he scratched his head and said, “It’s completely different. Not to mention the whole territory is brand new and spotless, with no droppings or stains on the ground whatsoever. I’ve seen so many new and strange things on the way here, things I’ve never seen before.”

He pointed to a bicycle that zipped past them, saying in amazement, “For example, this alchemical mount that looks like a metal frame. It’s clearly not a living creature, but it can move forward so fast on two wheels just by the rider pedaling. It’s simply amazing!”

Another of his kind, a half-blood Elf, craned his neck to stare at the tall, barrel-shaped iron tower standing behind the concrete row houses and exclaimed, “What are these giant iron towers for? Why is there one after every row of houses? It seems to be made of sheet iron. What kind of noble lord would waste wrought iron building these strange things instead of forging weapons?”

Chris immediately began to shake his head smugly. He had participated in the design and construction of the water towers and the hot water supply system, so he couldn’t miss this chance to boast in front of these little country bumpkins from the south.

“This is called a high-pressure water tower. It’s a civilian facility that uses alchemical instruments to directly pump, filter, and heat river water. Any house with one of these towers installed will have scalding hot water immediately just by turning a valve indoors. You don’t even have to worry about the water source freezing during the winters in the barren lands.”

Sandra then remembered seeing that kind of brass valve in the guesthouse washroom. Not knowing how to use it, no one had dared to try. Only now did he realize that hot water could flow from it.

Egnor looked at the slightly restrained expressions on his kin, smiled, and said comfortingly, “Forget all those backward life experiences from the past. This is a completely different new home. Believe me, before long, you’ll all come to love and enjoy life here.”

As he spoke, he couldn’t help but glance at Chris. For some reason, when introducing the territory to the newcomers, they both felt an inexplicable sense of pride and joy, as if they were showing off their own important experimental invention—both satisfied and smug.

After completing their identity registration at a service window in City Hall, seven or eight timid young half-blood Elves sucked on their pricked fingers. Each of them received a small card that shone with a soft, fluorescent light.

“Keep your identification cards safe. You must carry them with you at all times for inspections. If you happen to lose one, come back here to get a replacement as soon as possible. Whether you’re renting a house or receiving your salary, you’ll need this little card.” Egnor tirelessly and repeatedly instructed his kin, consciously taking on the responsibility of an elder looking after the younger generation.

Like him, many of these young half-blood Elves had been orphaned at a young age. Since birth, their mixed heritage had forced them to constantly hide and live in seclusion throughout the south. Some had even been captured and imprisoned for long periods by the Federation, leading very difficult lives.

“Mr. Egnor, we don’t have any money to rent a house right now. But don’t worry, we already made a plan before we came. We’ll build a shack outside the city to get by for now, and move in once we have the money…” The group of youths clutched the identification cards that signified their acceptance by the territory, discussing excitedly with looks of anticipation and contentment on their faces.

They didn’t think that just because they were accepted by the Lord through Egnor’s connections, they could rightfully depend on their senior kinsman. Instead, they planned to stand on their own two feet and build a life here.

Egnor felt a slight pang in his heart. He quickly raised a hand to stop their discussion and said gently, “Don’t worry, your accommodations have already been arranged. How could I bear to let you live in the wilds outside the city? Follow me… I’ll take you to the apprentice apartments!”

Sandra stared at the gray concrete building before him, which stood a full three or four stories tall. He was so shocked he didn’t know what to say for a moment.

“A magical building? Is this a magical building like a Mage Tower? Are we actually qualified to live here?”

“Mr. Egnor, the job you mentioned in your letter… is it to be an experimental assistant or apprentice for some Lord Spellcaster in the territory?”

“Golden Trees above! It’s not just this one building. Look, there are two more identical ones behind it! Oh! And there are gardens in front of and behind each building. These plants have been grown with mana catalysis!”

“Even a noble lord’s private manor isn’t as beautiful and comfortable as this place… I can’t believe we get to live here.”

Listening to the youths’ clamorous exclamations, Egnor couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“Alright, alright! Quiet down, everyone. From now on, you’ll be magic potion apprentices. The territory will provide you with free housing, which is this building right here. Each of you can move into a single room with a private washroom. The two buildings behind this one house magic apprentices and alchemy apprentices, respectively. Once you’re settled in, you can get to know them. They’re all very friendly.”

Hearing this, everyone immediately cheered. Only Sandra looked a little worried. He sidled up to Egnor and asked cautiously, “Mr. Egnor, we’re being given housing for no apparent reason. Don’t we have to work for the Lord?”

“Of course you have to work. You’ll work and study at the same time. You’ll only need to follow me to the Alchemical Plant Garden to work for half a day, every day. The rest of the time, you’ll need to study at the Spellcaster school. Mr. Chris and I also hold teaching positions there.”

The youngest half-blood Elf asked timidly, “Then… then will we still get paid a salary for our work?”

“Of course. Although it won’t be as much as the soldiers in the army get, it’s enough for you to eat whatever you want and buy some new clothes and other goods to improve your quality of life.”

“I… I want one of those… bicycles… that you can ride fast by pedaling.”

Egnor led the youths into the lobby on the first floor of the apartment building and said with a chuckle, “You’ll get your bicycles. There’s a special shop in the Market District that sells them. One costs only three hundred gold yuan, and apprentices can get a discount and pay in installments with their identification cards.”

“You should know, the bicycle is one of the three standard items for a comfortable life among the people of this territory. It’s not just you; almost everyone wants to own one.”

“What are the three essentials for a comfortable life?”

Egnor pointed to the brass-colored metal pipes installed on the wall and said with a smile, “The hot water supply system in the houses, the light and fast bicycles, and these mana-powered lights hanging from the ceiling—these are the pioneer territories’ three essentials for a comfortable life!”

Chapter 266: The Territory’s High-Level Meeting

In the late autumn of the Northern Barren Lands, Harvey held a high-level meeting for the territory’s leadership in the Lord’s Castle conference hall.

A little over two years ago, when the pioneer territories were first being established, Harvey could only rely on two alchemical lifeforms, one half-blood vampire, and a dozen or so refugees from the barren lands rescued from vile orcs. Moreover, aside from Astaren, most of them were completely illiterate.

Now, his territory’s administrative staff had grown to nearly one hundred people. Among them were a probationary knight once captured by vile orcs, an ordinary clockmaker, an impoverished hunter, a tax-evading serf from a southern noble’s fief, refugees from the barren lands, and a half-orc…

Ninety-nine percent of them had kept pace with the territory’s development, successfully completing literacy education and vocational training to become qualified “feudal civil servants.”

In the human kingdoms of the south, this kind of setup was completely ahead of its time. In a sense, it utterly subverted the traditional model of rule by feudal lords and kings.

Most nobles with fiefs would typically hire only two or three directors to coordinate and issue the lord’s orders. Below them would be tax collectors for various levies. These low and mid-level officials were scattered throughout the vast fief, and all daily administrative work revolved around collecting taxes and amassing wealth for the lord.

Agricultural tax, commercial tax, road tolls, a believer’s tax collected on behalf of the Church… these were considered the more common and reasonable levies.

More demanding and greedy lords would add a wide variety of miscellaneous taxes—a woodland tax for cutting trees or gathering firewood, a grazing tax for raising livestock, a brewing tax for making wine privately, and even a mill tax for using the lord’s mill.

Harvey had even heard of more absurd reasons for taxation in the past. Whether the serfs and freeman farmers under a lord’s rule were getting married or holding a funeral, they had to pay a tax to the lord. Even if someone died and their descendants wished to inherit their land and property, they first had to pay an inheritance tax before they were even qualified to be buried.

The trinity of wealth, land, and power, all so highly concentrated, would inevitably hinder regional economic and demographic growth. Over time, it would brew sharp, irreconcilable conflicts between the ruling class and the commoner serfs…

As a transmigrator who had seen enough cautionary tales in history books, Harvey understood this deeply.

Thanks to the rapid intake and growth of its population, every administrative and manufacturing department in the pioneer territories had gradually taken shape. City Hall, the core that coordinated all the territory’s affairs, had finally matured into the sophisticated form Harvey had hoped for.

He no longer needed to be personally involved in every single matter as he had at the beginning, buried day in and day out in the tedious work of studying laws and drafting development plans. Now, Harvey only needed to casually mention a simple idea, and Rainer and Astaren, who were already perfectly in sync with him, would immediately grasp the key points. They would then have the City Hall officials break down the work and quickly delegate it to the various departments, ensuring that tasks and responsibilities were assigned to specific individuals and implemented with speed and efficiency.

Having two alchemical lifeforms capable of “absolute rationality” assist him in managing such a vast pioneer territory was a choice Harvey felt was his most satisfying and wisest. It almost completely eliminated the possibility of most top-down corruption and bureaucratic entrenchment, guaranteeing his absolute credibility among the people as the territory’s supreme ruler.

This was the first time Harvey had convened such a formal high-level meeting. Those summoned to attend were the heads of every institution and department. Besides City Hall Director Rainer and the Lord’s Chief Advisor Astaren, there was Commander Pierce of the Defense Force, high-ranking military officers led by Vaughn, Director of the Construction Department Haru, City Hall Deputy Director Clem, Chief Superintendent of the Police Department Yuliao, the Director of the Agriculture Department, Infirmary Director and Deputy Director of the Agriculture Department Egnor, the Director of the Industrial Department, its Deputy Director and Head of the Alchemy Laboratory Chris, and the Director of Education.

In addition, the newly established Spellcaster Academy, which operated under the Education Department, also welcomed its first principal and professor of core theory—the young mid-rank Spellcaster, Durt Holden, who had been directly appointed by Harvey.

This young Mage, though from a family of Spellcasters, had previously held a civilian post in the Federation. He had a considerable talent for educating and training magic apprentices. His knowledge of magical theory was at his fingertips, and his teaching plans were exceptionally well-crafted, earning even the praise of the usually critical Astaren.

By late autumn, the temperature in the Northern Barren Lands was already very low. The Lord’s Castle had started using its hot water heating system early. In the conference hall, the floors had been covered with thick animal-hide carpets, so those attending the meeting felt no biting cold, even in light clothing.

The conference hall was dead silent. Everyone held their breath, quietly waiting for Harvey to finish reading the departmental work summaries in his hands, on full alert for the Lord’s questions.

“Today’s meeting will likely last a long time. Let’s treat it as an early year-end summary report for each department… The vile orcs will be back once winter sets in, and we won’t have much free time for large meetings then…” Harvey took a sip of the warm fruit tea a servant had brought him, pulled out a report, and said casually, “Let’s start with the Agriculture Department, which just finished the autumn harvest.”

The Agriculture Department was actually under Rainer’s direct supervision. The current director was merely a figurehead—an experienced farmer from the barren lands who had been among the first to join the territory, but he was getting on in years and would likely retire in a few more. Thus, it was natural for Rainer himself to deliver this part of the report.

Rainer stood, bowed to Harvey, and scanned the room before confidently opening the workbook in front of him. “My lord, this year’s autumn harvest yielded approximately thirty-five thousand bushels of grain. Not counting the more than five thousand new residents who have just joined the territory, this is enough to fully meet the food needs of our original ten thousand-plus residents until next autumn’s harvest.”

He paused, turned to the next page, and continued, “In addition, we have seventeen thousand bushels of old wheat remaining in the grain warehouse. As per your instructions, half has been allocated as feed for livestock, and the other half has been sent to the food processing factory for further processing…”

The “bushel” Rainer mentioned was a common unit of measurement for wheat and barley in this world, a square, barrel-like container made of wooden planks. Harvey was only vaguely aware that one bushel was roughly equivalent to one hundred kilograms, but that wasn’t important. All that mattered was knowing it was enough to feed his people.

Apart from a small portion of each year’s harvest reserved as seeds for Egnor to catalyze and enchant, only about sixty percent is released onto the market for residents to purchase in limited quantities using their identification cards. This is to prevent private hoarding and speculation, which could lead to instability in the territory’s grain prices.

This was also why he had always kept a firm grip on the land and the authority over grain cultivation. Distributing farmland to the residents to cultivate themselves was, first, detrimental to the popularization of alchemical farming machinery and would result in low yields. Second, he was concerned they would resist paying their surplus grain to the lord—the frequent commoner revolts in the fiefs of southern nobles were caused precisely by lords violently seizing the hard-earned harvests from their serfs and freeman farmers.

Therefore, from the very beginning, Harvey had mandated that grain cultivation, production, and distribution be monopolized by City Hall. Buyers had to use their identification cards to purchase limited amounts under a rationing system. This name-based system completely prevented private hoarding that could disrupt market prices.

However, the most pressing issue now was that the five thousand-odd refugees from the south who had recently joined the territory would clearly put a strain on the current grain reserves. Before they could find work and receive wages, they still needed to collect a full month’s worth of relief rations from City Hall for free.

Harvey frowned in thought for a moment, then stood up and walked over to the territory planning map hanging on the wall behind him. He raised his hand and slapped it firmly on the uncultivated, pristine wilderness on the east bank of the Icefield River.

“We must finish reclaiming this land before winter sets in. That way, we’ll have time to plant hardy barley next spring.”

Barley is hardier than wheat and has a shorter growth cycle. It only needs about ninety days to mature, which will help cover any potential food shortages before next year’s autumn harvest.

Haru, the Director of the Construction Department, and Commander Pierce both stood up at the same time, exclaiming in surprise, “My lord, the east bank is outside the protection of the territory’s walls! Even if we dispatch the Defense Force to stand guard long-term, they won’t be able to fend off the vile orcs that will constantly harass us after winter sets in!”

“Besides,” Haru added, “we really don’t have the manpower or energy to build a wall on the east bank of the Icefield River to protect the farmland before winter…”

Chapter 267: Military Farming

Ever since the pioneer territories gained a towering city wall stretching twenty to thirty kilometers, the residents who lived and worked here finally felt a true sense of security. The Northern Barren Lands were not only plagued by the danger of vile orcs; the cold, primitive natural environment and the vast numbers of wild animals also posed a threat to the lives of the human refugees.

During the early winter, when the vile orcs could descend from the north at any moment, venturing to the far side of the Icefield River to reclaim land felt incredibly unsafe.

“I am preparing to readjust the structure and scale of the army again…” Harvey said thoughtfully, stroking his chin. “Over the past year, aside from one expedition against the Demons’ isolated force, the Northern Army has had very few missions outside our borders. The daily expenses and stipend for two battalions, over two thousand men, is an exceptionally high cost.”

Commander Pierce and Battalion Commander Vaughn, who had been singled out by the Lord’s words, secretly shivered and immediately straightened up to listen attentively.

“The same goes for the Defense Force. A single battalion of over a thousand men is responsible only for daily guard duty within the territory, and the Police Department even shares the burden of investigation and patrol. This is also a significant expense…”

For a pioneer territory with a population of ten thousand, supporting more than three thousand soldiers was no easy feat, even with alchemical beasts and numerous assembly-line factories providing efficient logistical production and food supplies. A private military force of this size, if placed in the southern nations, would surpass the personal armies of the kings of some small secular duchies and earldoms.

Pierce spoke up cautiously, “My lord… are you, perhaps, thinking of downsizing the army? If these soldiers lose their military status, how will they be settled?”

Harvey shook his head with a smile and explained, “No, I don’t intend to discharge these soldiers. They are professional soldiers I’ve spent a great deal to train. In a place like the Northern Barren Lands, surrounded by external threats, the army is our greatest guarantee of survival.”

With that, he had an attendant distribute documents that had been prepared in advance. The men quickly lowered their heads and began to read carefully.

Military farming… Garrison Corps… what did this mean?

Everyone was baffled but dared not be the first to question Harvey. They could only exchange confused glances or sneak peeks at Harvey’s expression, trying to guess his intentions.

“No need to be so formal. It’s normal that you don’t understand,” Harvey explained slowly with a light laugh. “I plan to draw five hundred men each from the Northern Army and the Defense Force, slimming the original thousand-man battalions down to a five-hundred-man structure. These men will form two Farming Battalions, to be stationed long-term in the area east of the Icefield River.”

“This contingent of soldiers will not only shoulder the duty of defense and vigilance but, in the absence of external threats and urgent military matters, will also need to engage in agricultural production, working with personnel sent by the Agriculture Department to cultivate grain.”

Pierce instantly understood the Lord’s idea. Wasn’t this just the reverse of the levy system used by the noble lords in the south?

The freemen and tenant farmers on a noble’s fief would farm and raise livestock in peacetime, paying taxes to the lord. Once war broke out, they would have to accept the lord’s temporary summons, putting down their farming tools and picking up weapons to fight for him, essentially serving as both farmers and militia.

Harvey was now flipping this convention on its head. While guaranteeing the duties and treatment of professional soldiers, he was having them take on the additional task of farming in their spare time. With the help of improved mana-infused wheat seeds and agricultural alchemical beasts, not only would they have no problem feeding themselves, but they could also produce a large surplus of grain for the territory.

Just as Battalion Commander Vaughn was secretly calculating whether the soldiers would receive an extra part-time salary for farming, Lord Harvey broached the subject at the perfect moment.

“Of course, we can’t just add a work task for these farming soldiers without giving them any reward or benefit. Based on the current average monthly salary for a basic soldier in the territorial army, I believe we should issue a suitable farming subsidy, or the right to purchase scarce luxury goods…”

The specifics of this policy and its implementation would naturally be left to Rainer and Pierce to discuss and refine later. Harvey couldn’t be bothered to elaborate further.

…

After discussing the Agriculture Department’s grain production and the matter of military restructuring for farming, Harvey turned his gaze to Astaren and the young spellcaster Durt, who was seated below him.

“Gentlemen, it’s time to discuss the education issues of the commoner school and the Spellcaster Academy.”

Hearing the Lord call his name, Chief Advisor Astaren immediately stood up and began to report in an orderly fashion, “As of this month, the number of residents who completed literacy education this year is approximately seven hundred and thirty. Including the residents who passed the literacy program last year, about one thousand five hundred commoners in the territory have now completed the literacy course. This includes all officials working in City Hall and its various departments.”

A ten percent literacy rate among the populace was an almost unbelievable scene in any secular nation in the south. In this world where the extraordinary and the ignorant coexisted, the ability to read and write was, in the eyes of most, a privilege reserved for spellcasters and nobles.

“Excellent! I am very satisfied with this result.” Harvey couldn’t help but clap his hands in encouragement. He understood the importance of universal education better than anyone present.

Aside from the fact that commoners with basic education were better suited for complex technical work and administration, knowledge itself increased the chance of achieving class mobility and obtaining extraordinary power. That’s right—people with spellcasting talent were not born of bloodline inheritance or genetic mutation. Rather, through constant learning from endless knowledge, they stimulated the seed of wisdom that allowed them to step onto the path of magic.

This was also why Harvey had ordered that all youths and children under the age of sixteen in the territory must receive compulsory free basic education. At the very least, they had to complete the literacy course to ensure basic reading and writing skills.

And among these children, about one percent of the most intelligent would naturally be selected by the experienced Astaren and Durt as reserve candidates for magic apprentices, entering the Spellcaster school for further study.

“The Spellcaster school currently has seventy-six apprentices and probationary apprentices taking elementary courses. They are divided into three classes: the Alchemy discipline, the Magic discipline, and the Potions discipline. Due to a shortage of magic teachers, Durt, Chris, Egnor, and I are all serving as instructors concurrently…”

Astaren finished his concise report, then gave a slight bow to Harvey before taking his seat again.

“So few? If I remember correctly, these students also include the dozen or so magic apprentices Durt brought with him, the group of work-study alchemy apprentices under Chris, and the young kinsmen Egnor just recently brought over, right?”

Harvey frowned slightly, a little dejected. “Are the children among the territory’s original residents with spellcasting talent really that rare?”

Clem, who was in charge of population management at City Hall, saw the Lord’s unhappy expression and quickly tried to smooth things over. “My lord, you must remember that two or three years ago, these children couldn’t even get enough to eat and were constantly worried about not surviving the winter! It’s already incredible that they can read and write. Besides… even if they don’t have the talent to become mages, after they graduate from school, they are highly sought-after technical personnel by all the departments…”

Harvey sighed, only able to console himself with a sense of resignation. “Alright, even if we’re not cultivating many spellcasters, at least these kids have a one hundred percent employment rate after graduation. There’s no terrible problem of graduating into unemployment…”

Chapter 268: Preparations for Building a City

After all the departments had finished reporting on their work for the year, Harvey cleared his throat, ready to make his concluding remarks.

“The refugee reception center established in Jackdaw Town needs to be kept open for the time being. Withdraw the army soldiers, and just leave a few staff members responsible for registration and admission, as well as a rotating shift of vaccine physicians…”

Harvey paused, his eyes meeting Astaren’s in a moment of mutual understanding as the latter looked up. He continued, “The Federation has already begun to control the spread of the plague, and the Radiant Church, not to be outdone, has started distributing Divine Grace Potions to the commoners in St. Valen. They are clearly vying for the hearts of the people, laying the groundwork with public opinion for the large-scale conflict that may erupt later.”

Astaren rose to his feet, adding to Harvey’s point. “Therefore, we need to continue promoting our refugee reception policies and attract as many displaced people as possible to the Northern Realm before the war breaks out.”

“Understood, My Lord!” The crowd rose in unison to respond.

Harvey gestured for them to sit, took a sip of hot tea, and continued, “The Dragonstone Merchant Guild sent a message stating that the situation is now somewhat under control, and large-scale cargo trade can resume… However, I no longer intend to let them monopolize our territory’s export business…”

Rainer asked, puzzled, “Why, My Lord? They’ve always been prompt with their payments and haven’t tried to pry into our technological secrets. They’re a good business partner.”

Harvey chuckled, pointing to the ledger in front of him. “Although the territory issues its own paper-based credit currency, the gold yuan, it is still fundamentally anchored to the value of gold and silver coins. As everyone is now well aware, one gold yuan has the purchasing power of about half a silver coin. This means that every month, the salaries we pay out to all the residents of the territory alone cost us over three thousand gold pounds…”

And having just paid this month’s salaries, City Hall’s books now showed a reserve of gold yuan worth a little over two thousand gold pounds, which was a rather dangerous financial threshold.

The entire annual tax revenue that a great noble family in the south, with a fief of equivalent size, could scrape together through various means would only cover one month of Harvey’s operational expenses in his pioneer territory—and this was with the territory being self-sufficient in food and most daily necessities.

Currently, the pioneer territory’s only long-term sources of income were from the sale of magic stone power engines and the supply of energy cores and magic ammunition for the Gun of Annihilation to the Federation.

Although the vaccine business had brought in a quick fortune, it was bound to end eventually. Relying on the export of a single civilian product and one arms deal would likely be insufficient to sustain the territory’s rapidly growing construction expenditures in the future.

“Therefore, I will establish contact with several other large merchant guilds of the same scale as… the Dragonstone Merchant Guild. We will entrust them with the exclusive rights to our territory’s specialized processed goods, distributing them throughout the south to generate profit.”

Upon hearing this, Chris’s spirits lifted, and he asked in pleasant surprise, “My Lord, you mean… the fragrant medicinal soaps, specialty brewed liquors, fur garments, and extremely long-lasting canned foods we’ve developed… can all be sold externally?”

Harvey nodded with a smile. “That’s right. Apart from strategically important military goods and magical energy vehicles, the production scale for all other civilian goods can be doubled. The various production departments can create more jobs and offer permanent work contracts to our new residents.”

He paused. “I plan to hold a Northern Realm Goods Fair and invite representatives from the guilds on that list to attend. We will then sign long-term exclusive sales orders with them.”

As for the exclusive sales rights to these products, they would, of course, be subject to competitive bidding. The highest bidder would win…

…

Harvey’s sudden resolution near the end of the meeting sparked a flurry of discussion among the attendees. New and substantial external revenue for the territory meant that every department would have a more ample budget to draw upon, which was undoubtedly exciting news for all the high-ranking officials present.

Harvey waited a moment before dropping an even more shocking topic on them.

“There is one last item on today’s agenda, and it is the most important…” He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room. “I intend to formally establish a city here after this winter ends, once we have repelled the vile orc tribes that raid from the south. In the future, this place will no longer be just a pioneer territory beyond the kingdom’s borders, but a true city of the barren lands.”

He picked up a charcoal pencil, walked over to the map hanging behind him, and began to draw the city’s boundaries. “This city of the barren lands will extend south to the northern slope of Raven Ridge, east to the ore-rich canyons at the foot of the Spine of the Gods Mountains, west to the marshlands where we just established a forward outpost, and north to the Icefield River Valley’s Forward Bastion… Its area will far exceed that of Earl Fegan’s territory in Grizzly Keep, which is just across the mountains from us. It will be even more expansive than the royal domain of Goldshine City, the capital of St. Valen.”

Everyone was stunned into silence by Harvey’s words. For a moment, the entire conference hall was utterly quiet.

Durt Holden shot to his feet, his voice trembling. “My lord… are you, are you planning to declare the territory’s independence without being enfeoffed by the king?”

Most of the people present were commoners from humble origins. The only one with a rare noble bloodline, Astaren, was a several-hundred-year-old ancient who had lived his entire life in the Northern Realm and had never set foot in the south. Apart from Durt, who had previously served in the Federation, no one truly understood the real implications of Harvey’s statement.

To build a city… in a sense, in an era where the secular world was ruled by a feudal nobility, it was tantamount to founding a nation.

Many of the smaller duchies and earldoms in the south required their rulers to be of royal blood from a major kingdom, to be personally enfeoffed with land granted by a king, and to travel to the City of Grace in Goris to be crowned by His Holiness the Pope before they were qualified to establish a city and become a vassal state of a powerful kingdom.

For someone like Harvey, a commoner who dared to declare his lands independent in the Northern Barren Lands with nothing more than a Pioneer’s Decree bought from a feudal lord, was utterly unprecedented.

This was an open provocation of secular royal power, a defiance of the king’s authority. It would inevitably trigger a military attack from a large number of surrounding nobles under his rule. A particularly martial king might even lead an army to crush him personally.

“Do you think my doing this will bring the disaster of war upon our pioneer territory?” Harvey stopped drawing the city’s borders and asked with a light laugh.

“How many private soldiers does the Earl of Grizzly Bear Territory have? How many troops does the Grand Duke of St. Valen command? A direct conflict between the Federation and the Church is imminent. Who among them can spare the effort to help these secular nobles fight and scheme for territory?”

Harvey gently tossed the charcoal pencil onto the long conference table and slowly walked to stand beside his high-backed chair at the head of it.

“I have over three thousand powerful soldiers who can face vile orcs and Demons head-on and achieve overwhelming victories. I have thousands of alchemical beasts of war, which have none of humanity’s weaknesses and feel no pain or bleed. And I have vast and sufficient military-industrial logistics and reserves of weapons and ammunition.”

Harvey’s gaze fell directly on the pale-faced young Spellcaster, Durt, and he asked softly, “Shouldn’t it be the surrounding lords and kings who fear me more?”

Chapter 269: The Missing Legendary Chief

After the meeting, Harvey had Durt, the only one who had raised objections and doubts in the conference hall, stay behind.

“You’re a Spellcaster who has stepped into the extraordinary ranks. Can it be that you still fear the power of mortals from the secular kingdoms?” Harvey said with a teasing smile, waving his hand placatingly for the young Spellcaster to sit opposite him. “Or are you worried that the Church will intervene and put us at a disadvantage?”

Durt’s face flushed with shame as he stammered, “My lord, I do not fear the power of the secular nobility, nor am I overly concerned about the threat from the Church… You once permitted me to observe the soldiers’ training, so I am well aware that even ordinary Spellcasters and Church Priests would find it difficult to stand against those standard-issue magic weapons.”

“Oh? Then what are you worried about?”

“Uh… Please forgive my foolishness. The education I received in the past was, on the one hand, related to my magical enlightenment, and on the other, a noble’s education from my family… So I never imagined that commoners without a noble bloodline could…”

It was only then that Harvey remembered this young man, who was related to the Son of Flame. Their family in the wizard kingdom of Da’ers possessed one-quarter royal blood. In a sense, they could even be considered to have a claim to the throne, though their place in the line of succession was rather far back.

A person who was both a noble and a Spellcaster, having received a dual elite education from a young age, would inevitably have a firm concept of class instilled in them, placing great importance on status and bloodline.

Harvey shook his head helplessly and sighed. “But in the end, neither you nor your uncle chose to become a noble. Instead, you resolutely embarked on the magical path in pursuit of truth and wisdom. That shows you don’t agree with the idea that bloodline determines one’s station.”

He patted the young man’s shoulder comfortingly and offered a warm, encouraging smile. “Since you’ve come to my domain, you should change those rigid preconceptions of yours as soon as possible and integrate into this new social model before you… Believe me, you absolutely will not be disappointed with the territory’s future development and the rewards you’ll gain from it.”

…

After sending off the nephew Mr. Son of Flame had entrusted to his care, Harvey stretched and prepared to return to his bedroom for a short nap before getting back to work around midnight.

In this regard, Harvey had never forgotten his original calling as a Necromancer—a nocturnal schedule that was a perfect match for his university days in his past life, requiring no adjustment whatsoever.

Just as he was about to get up and leave, Astaren hurried up from the underground laboratory and intercepted him at the top of the stairs.

“My lord, two of the Federation’s Chiefs on the Forum have suddenly requested to speak with you…” Astaren’s tone was grave. “And they aren’t addressing the identity of Kel’Thuzad, but have directly contacted Administrator Turing and Observer Neumann simultaneously.”

Had something major happened? Could the Federation have already gone to war with the Church so soon?

Or had something gone wrong with the counteroffensive against the Demons in the Evil Moon Mountain Range? Had the Demons found a way to counter the Gun of Annihilation?

Harvey rushed with Astaren to the underground laboratory, immediately sitting before the Magic Brain’s central device to log in to the Forum.

It was Lord Dawson the Spirit Snatcher and Lord Gallagher the Shadow Knight? Harvey was a little puzzled. Where was the Scorching Sovereign? Why hadn’t he appeared at the last few Forum gatherings? Had his deep meditation not yet ended?

[Administrator Turing: Gentlemen, what is the reason for this sudden request to commune?]

[Spirit Snatcher: Mr. Turing, I sincerely apologize for the sudden disturbance. Due to the urgency of the matter, we have also taken the liberty of contacting Mr. Observer, but we have yet to receive a response…]

[Shadow Knight: According to the rules, we should have first contacted the Forum’s agent, Mr. Kel’Thuzad, and had him relay the message. Please forgive us, but the matter involves an internal secret of the Federation, so we could only directly seek help from you two powerful existences…]

Harvey couldn’t help but shiver. What kind of trouble could make two Legendary-rank Chiefs beg him for help with such a humble attitude? A problem of this magnitude was likely far beyond the capabilities of a mid-rank Spellcaster like himself, who was merely masquerading as a mysterious powerhouse.

[Administrator Turing: It is of no concern, but this once only. In the future, please inform our agent first. Now, you may tell me what has happened.]

The two on the other side remained silent for a long time before a new message slowly appeared on the Magic Brain device’s crystal screen.

[Spirit Snatcher: Our colleague, the Scorching Sovereign… after entering a state of deep meditation in the Magic Net two months ago, has remained in the exclusive Rune Chamber at the top of the Celestial Domain’s Mage Tower. It is a sealed space created by the Federation’s original founders, and no one else can easily sense or detect what is happening inside…]

[Shadow Knight: But when the appointed time came, he did not emerge. We waited patiently for another week before finally taking the risk of breaking the seal… In the end, we discovered that there was no one in the Rune Chamber. Lord Salas had vanished into thin air.]

Harvey’s brow furrowed tightly as he read the message. According to the two Legendary Chiefs, it was impossible to teleport or blink out of the Rune Chamber. To leave, one had to undo the spatial seal through a corresponding ritual and secret method. It was impossible to vanish without a trace.

“So these two Legendary lords are treating me, the Forum administrator, like some famous detective, asking for my help in solving a case… and the most bizarre and mysterious type at that, a locked-room disappearance!” Harvey couldn’t help but press a hand to his forehead, feeling a vein throb in his temple.

This wasn’t an ordinary missing person case! This was a missing Legendary Caster!

[Administrator Turing: And so? You believe I will have a way to find the Scorching Sovereign?]

[Spirit Snatcher: The timing of this incident is too much of a coincidence… It happened right after the two of us left Araye for the Evil Moon Mountain Range, and it also coincided with the Church’s malicious plot against us in St. Valen, where they began to arrest and persecute local Spellcasters on a large scale.]

[Shadow Knight: We suspect that Lord Scorching Sovereign encountered some kind of unknowable accident during his deep meditation in the Magic Net, and this may involve a targeted conspiracy by the Church…]

Harvey sighed. If the Church truly had a way to harm a Legendary Caster located in the Federation’s headquarters in Araye, then it was completely useless for them to ask him for help. He didn’t dare take on this job.

[Administrator Turing: It is not appropriate for us to interfere too deeply in the conflict between Spellcasters and the Church… Heh, is providing you with weapons to help you expel the invading non-human races not enough to satisfy you?]

Seated before the Magic Brain device, Dawson and Gallagher couldn’t help but exchange a glance when they saw this message, an unconcealable worry etched on their faces.

“I’m afraid our rash request has truly angered this being. But Salas…” Dawson sighed in discouragement.

Gallagher tugged impatiently at his perennial black robes and gritted his teeth. “The Federation absolutely cannot bear the loss of a Chief. Our only choice is to ask Mr. Turing for help… at any cost!”

[Shadow Knight: Mr. Turing, we have no intention of asking you to intervene in the dispute between Spellcasters and the Church again. We are only requesting your help in confirming the Scorching Sovereign’s condition and… and his current location. We suspect that due to some accident, he entered the Magic Net space directly in his flesh and blood body!]

Chapter 270: Physical Roaming of the Magic Net

Normally, Legendary-rank Spellcasters like the Spirit Snatcher and the Shadow Knight shouldn’t need to seek outside help so readily. The two of them were renowned high-rank experts in the Southern Continent’s magic community. They shouldn’t be completely helpless when it came to finding a mysteriously missing colleague.

But the problem was the coincidence of the timing—Mr. The Scorching Sovereign had vanished right when the Federation’s relationship with the Church had soured, and the other two Chiefs happened to be away from Araye, heading for the Evil Moon Mountain Range.

As the three iconic leaders of the Federation, the Chiefs had always been at the top of the Radiant Church’s Divine Punishment Faction’s elimination list. In a sense, they were considered an even greater threat than the high-ranking demons from other dimensions that the Church constantly guarded against.

At least half of the Demon Slayers secretly trained in Goris, the City of Grace, were aimed specifically at them.

If they were to rashly enter the Magic Net and try roaming in search of the missing First Chief, Salas, they would likely be immediately detected by the Church’s location-finding arcane arts. They would then be forced to face an all-out assault from a swarm of Demon Slayers.

Their enemies would be coming with the intent of a one-way trip, aiming for mutual destruction. They certainly wouldn’t let the Chiefs escape the Magic Net easily.

If The Scorching Sovereign had really met with an accident in his secret chamber and his body of flesh and blood had directly entered the Magic Net space, causing his disappearance… Harvey thought it might be possible to use the handle imprint he’d left on the Forum as an anchor point to locate him.

But as for how to pull him back out of the Magic Net, he had no clue whatsoever.

[Administrator Turing: Mr. The Scorching Sovereign has always been a wise member of the Forum, happy to share his knowledge. Alright… I can try to lock onto him in the Magic Net, but regardless of his current state or location, you’ll have to figure out the next steps yourselves…]

[Spirit Snatcher: Thank you for your kind assistance! Mr. Turing, I wonder what price we must pay for this?]

Harvey scratched his head. He realized that aside from being short on cash and manpower, there wasn’t much else he could squeeze out of the Federation. The spellcraft studies and magical literature he needed for his current rank and abilities were all freely available in the Magic Encyclopedia. As for the rare materials and magical items for his research, he could get them for nothing through Forum trades using his points.

[Administrator Turing: Transfer the payment for this to our agent… And don’t forget our cooperative agreement. Provide Mr. Kel’Thuzad with as much help as you possibly can.]

Gallagher looked away from the crystal screen of the Magic Brain device and turned to Dawson with a sigh. “It seems the Forum truly values the development of their agent…”

…

Harvey logged out of the Magic Net Forum and said helplessly to Astaren, who was standing by his side, “Looks like it’s going to be another busy, sleepless night… All my work and experiments will have to be put on hold.”

With that, he walked over to the energy-gathering array apparatus and had Astaren help him fit the energy conduits and the metal headpiece. Amidst the continuous hum of the array, he quickly submerged his mental energy into the Plane of the Magic Net.

The virtual projection and main model of the Spellcaster Forum had always existed in a symbiotic state within his magical runes. All he had to do was pour his mental energy into it, much like entering his Mental Anchor, to rapidly access this virtual space constructed from data and information.

When Harvey was inside the virtual space of the Forum’s projection, he had complete control over all the floating, moving information runes. They were originally composed of countless lines of Living Source Code, which had a natural, instinctive affinity for Harvey, the mental entity who hosted their space. With a simple gesture, several strands of Living Code would float over and gather around him.

Harvey casually picked up a strand of information code and found it was a purchase request just posted in the anonymous trading section by a new member. However, this member was short on points and could only seek the magical experiment materials they needed through bartering…

Within the Forum’s projected space, the stationary, intermittently twinkling specks of light were actually the handle imprints of the various Forum members. The dim ones indicated they were currently offline, the flashing ones meant they were browsing the Forum, and the steadily glowing ones… those showed they were engrossed in the “Tower of Magic” adventure game, probably in the middle of a heated session of in-game purchases and card draws.

Being in this space gave Harvey the illusion of having uploaded himself to the internet through some sort of “brain-computer interface” technology, becoming a true digital lifeform.

If he so wished, Harvey could use those flashing handle imprints to lock onto any Forum member’s magical rune location at any time. From there, he could invade their core magical runes and use his own powerful and bizarre mental energy to assault and corrode their Mental Anchor.

Alternatively, he could draw pure magical energy from the Planet-level Energy-gathering Array connected to his body and unleash a powerful energy beam shockwave within the Magic Net, directly shattering their magical runes.

This was, in the truest sense… the terrifying ability to go through the net and kill someone on the other end.

“First, let’s start with Mr. The Scorching Sovereign’s handle imprint… I hope he really just stumbled into the Magic Net space by accident and is just lost and stranded somewhere…”

Harvey drew three thick tendrils of mental energy from his Mental Anchor and sent them sweeping towards the member imprint representing The Scorching Sovereign. They quickly enveloped the dim, lightless speck and began to gradually permeate and invade it.

Normally, Harvey wouldn’t dare to attempt such a risky maneuver. The magical rune structures of Legendary Casters were extraordinarily bizarre. Even if his mental energy was stronger, he still had to be wary of other terrifying trump cards they might possess. For example, Mr. The Scorching Sovereign had more than one legendary-level magic artifact that he could project into the Magic Net for use.

Back when the Spellcaster Forum was first established, Harvey had accidentally discovered the location of Mr. The Scorching Sovereign’s magical runes while roaming the Magic Net. Even back then, the state of his runes was very strange. They were dim and lifeless, disguised as if their owner were dead, quietly hovering near a spatial fissure, “playing dead to bait a fish.”

Logically, no Spellcaster would take their core magical runes with them while roaming the Magic Net. It was far too easy to encounter unknown dangers in the Magic Net space and be unable to escape quickly. The most common method was to hide one’s magical runes somewhere safe and extend a line of mental energy, with a mental projection leading the exploration. The distance one could roam depended on the strength of the Spellcaster’s own mental energy.

But today, after using his mental energy to permeate and lock onto the location, he found that the Legendary Caster’s magical runes were no longer in their original spot. However, the location provided by the member’s handle still pointed clearly to the vicinity of that same spatial fissure, which was rather strange.

“The location hasn’t changed… but the magical runes are gone.” Harvey stared at the empty entrance of the spatial fissure before him, hovering in the distance as he frowned in thought. “Why would this happen? The Forum’s positioning is never wrong. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have succeeded in assassinating real-world targets through the Magic Net so many times before.”

Wait… He suddenly recalled his conversation with the other two Chiefs, and their suspicion that The Scorching Sovereign had “directly entered the Magic Net space in his flesh and blood.”

“Could there really be a bizarre method to roam the Magic Net in a physical state?”

Harvey smacked his forehead. “That’s it! Those few… strange eggs I generated on the Shore of Souls, the ones that can hatch into soul puppets—don’t they exist there in a physical form?”

Chapter 271: A Legendary Nearing His End

Once he confirmed the possibility that the Scorching Sovereign had entered the Magic Net space in his physical body, Harvey immediately decided to use a “native” tracking method to re-search the area where the Legendary Chief’s magical runes had vanished.

Mr. Mind Devil, a native of the Magic Net, had taught him this method at no cost. According to him, every individual Mind Devil living in the Magic Net space was adept at using it. After all, concepts like direction and distance from the real world didn’t apply here; in essence, it was a distorted, high-dimensional space. Even the native races, who had thrived here for millennia, could easily lose their way in the depths of some dark, boundless expanse.

The method Mr. Mind Devil provided was to use the natural inclination of Magic Spirits, a type of Magic Net creature, toward pure magical energy to reveal the location of any potential “dark channels” within a given area.

These so-called “dark channels” were the counterparts to the thick, crimson energy conduits densely woven throughout the space. As Harvey understood it, they were invisible energy conduits that could not be observed with the naked eye.

These “dark channels” also contained rich, pure magical energy. However, compared to the gentle currents in the visible conduits, the magical energy here flowed much more violently. Apart from special magical creatures like the Magic Spirits, no roamer’s mental energy projection could easily enter. Even the Mind Devils, who originally lived here, could not linger for long.

To describe it in Mr. Mind Devil’s words, upon entering the torrent of magical energy in these “dark channels,” a roamer’s mental energy projection was like a clay sculpture being rapidly washed away and dissolved. The Mind Devil race, on the other hand, was more like a smooth river pebble; while they wouldn’t dissolve, they would be swept far away by the strong current. Only creatures like Magic Spirits could shuttle through it freely like fish, going with or against the current as they pleased.

“The visible energy conduits are like the veins of a human body, and the dark channels are probably the arteries. This entire Magic Net space is like the inside of a massive creature’s body. I just wonder if there are areas like an aorta or a heart at the end of the blood vessels…”

Harvey was startled by this sudden conjecture in his mind. Thinking it over, he felt a chill run down his spine, as if he were truly inside the body of a primordial giant, like an infinitely small and fragile foreign parasite.

He subconsciously shook his head to drive out these distracting thoughts, then dove into the Shore of Souls of his Mental Anchor to get a few live Magic Spirits being raised there.

These Magic Spirits had all been continuously captured for him by Mr. Mind Devil. They couldn’t survive for long in the real world. On a sudden whim, Harvey had moved them all into the Shore of Souls. He didn’t dare release them into the sea, afraid he wouldn’t be able to get them back, so he just found some puddles in the reefy shallows and tossed them in. Unexpectedly, they actually survived, which proved that they could also draw upon the magical energy from the Magic Net space to live in the Shore of Souls.

Harvey cupped the few wriggling Magic Spirits in his hands, carefully forming a fine, illusory net of mental energy to envelop them. Then, with a toss of his hand, the few tadpole-like Magic Spirits with large heads immediately levitated in the air. Their round, featureless heads seemed to sniff in all directions before they flexibly twisted their bodies and swam towards an empty area that looked like nothing.

The Magic Spirits were not magical creatures completely devoid of intelligence and thought. At the very least, they knew very well that if they went into the gentle, slow-moving visible energy conduits, the chances of being captured again would be higher. Only by diving headfirst into the surging, roaring “dark channels” would they have a chance to escape to freedom.

Harvey manipulated a few thin threads of mental energy, just like an ordinary hunter tracking and hunting with his hounds on the barren lands, letting the Magic Spirits pull him forward.

The Magic Spirits quickly reached the area and began to circle a spot in the void. Finally, a larger one couldn’t hold back any longer. A strange, semi-transparent bubble formed at the front of its round head. The other Magic Spirits followed suit, each forming bubbles of various sizes from their heads.

After these bubbles left the Magic Spirits’ bodies, they floated forward freely and slowly, but they soon seemed to touch an invisible barrier and then popped silently one after another.

In an instant, Harvey watched with his own eyes as the void before him seemed to corrode and melt open into an irregular rift, from which a dense and intense wave of magical energy surged out like a storm.

“This must be it… an entrance to a dark channel that only Magic Spirits can open!”

Wriggling their bodies, the few Magic Spirits quickly dove in. Harvey’s eyes narrowed. He immediately condensed hundreds of fine threads of mental energy, wrapping himself tightly to form a protective shell like a giant cocoon. He then allowed the Magic Spirits to pull him headfirst into the “dark channel.”

With the Magic Spirits scouting ahead, Harvey had no fear of getting lost in the dense, web-like dark channels. After all, the mental energy provided by his Mental Anchor was vast and endless. As long as he maintained the cocoon-like shell and prevented it from being washed away and broken, he didn’t have to worry about his true self’s mental energy projection being dissolved by the violent magical energy.

Uncharacteristically, the Magic Spirits did not go with the flow of the violent magical energy. Instead, they constantly twisted their bodies to swim upstream against the current. With these energetic “hounds,” Harvey also easily moved slowly in the direction the magical energy was rushing from.

It was dark all around, but he could constantly feel the impact of completely uncontrolled pure magical energy hitting his cocoon-like shell, giving him the illusion that he was truly traveling through a thick artery.

After about ten-odd minutes of difficult progress, the Magic Spirits pulling him suddenly spread out ahead, seeming to have reached a slightly more open, forked area in the dark channel.

Harvey carefully extended his mental energy tendrils, avoiding the turbulent magical energy that whistled past, and cautiously sensed the area where the Magic Spirits had suddenly stopped.

A deeply layered, ancient voice suddenly rang out in Harvey’s mind.

“Who… is it? Who… has come… here?”

Harvey’s heart thumped heavily, so startled he almost left the Magic Net space entirely. It took him a long moment to recover and barely make out that the voice that had just spoken seemed to be that of Mr. Scorching Sovereign, who had vanished without a trace.

But… but it sounded like it wasn’t just him alone.

Harvey tentatively responded with his mental energy: “Mr. Scorching Sovereign? I was guided by Mr. Turing to find you… Your sudden disappearance in the Celestial Domain has worried the other two Lord Chiefs.”

A moment later, a low sigh came through, followed by the layered yet exceptionally disjointed voice.

“They… you… shouldn’t have… come here. Shouldn’t have come looking for me…”

What on earth happened to Mr. Scorching Sovereign? Harvey’s mind was in chaos, but he couldn’t fully grasp the other’s current state with just his mental senses. It seemed he had been hiding in this fork in the dark channel ever since he disappeared.

“Mr. Scorching Sovereign? Are you trapped here? Or were you attacked by a powerful enemy and sustained injuries, leaving you unable to escape?”

This time, the other party was silent for a long time before slowly replying: “No… powerful enemy. It’s my own… problem.”

The halting and intermittent quality of the voice grew more pronounced, as if for every word the Scorching Sovereign uttered, two people hidden in the dark were crudely mimicking him, with the comical effect of a parrot learning to speak.

Harvey suppressed the doubt and discomfort in his heart and pressed on: “Then why have you been staying here? Did you enter the Magic Net in your physical, flesh-and-blood body?”

“Mmm… the method my teacher left behind… I could only… take the risk… Perhaps there really… will be a turning point.”

The Legendary Chief seemed mentally confused, rambling on repetitively as if muttering to himself, leaving Harvey completely unsure if he was actually having a normal conversation with him.

But the other’s next sentence made him fully understand the true clue to this mystery of a disappearance.

“Astral Prophecy… told me my… lifespan is ending… I had no choice… but to try… a sorcery from ancient times… the Flesh and Soul Fusion Ritual.”

Chapter 272: Flesh and Soul Fusion Ritual

The Scorching Sovereign’s life is coming to an end? How is that possible?

He was the current First Chief of the Federation, a powerful Spellcaster who had only just advanced to the Legendary-rank fifty years ago!

Harvey vaguely recalled that when he had his first magical awakening, the private magic tutor his family hired had given him his first book on general magical theory. It had been written by this very Legendary Chief, Kemer Salas, compiled and organized from the foundations of ancient magic. The cover of that thick spellbook was even subtly embossed with a silhouette of his side profile, making him look both wise and mysterious.

When he took on the heavy responsibility of being Chief, he couldn’t have been more than a hundred years old. After all, his teacher—the founder and first Chief of the Federation of Casters, a mysterious Legendary Mage whose name and origins were inexplicably erased from magical history—had lived for a full two hundred years.

For high-level casters, the extraordinary power they gained from knowledge would similarly elevate their level of existence. While it wasn’t enough to transcend the dimensional boundaries of their species and stand alongside the Dragon race and the Giants, they would at least not age as hastily as ordinary mortals, who would wither and be buried in the earth in less than a century.

Three hundred years was the limit for a short-lived species, but high-level casters and those who had advanced to the Legendary-rank were able to just barely touch the brink of this limit.

Harvey did a rough calculation and realized that the Scorching Sovereign should be less than one hundred and fifty years old this year. When he went to Araye, he had spoken with him face-to-face. Although Harvey couldn’t make out his specific form or features, his condition was by no means that of a frail old man. At the very least, during their venture into the spatial fissure in the Magic Net’s other dimension, his combat prowess and the fullness of his mana far exceeded the other two high-level casters.

But as long as one did not possess divinity like the Dragons and the Giants, whether they were short-lived species like humans, Elves, Dwarves, and Demons, or long-lived species like Astaren and the Mind Devil whose lifespans started at five hundred years, all would inevitably, in the long river of time, gradually approach the end of their lives.

Even Wyrms, creatures that possessed a trace of draconic blood, would, like the remains of the Seven-Colored Wyrm Harvey had encountered in the wyrm’s lair within the Magic Net, become a pile of wreckage forged from withered bones once their life force was exhausted.

This was even more apparent for human Spellcasters. Once they passed the halfway point of their lifespan with no hope of advancing to a high-rank, their bodies would immediately and inevitably begin to age and weaken. Even if they used every other secret art and magic potion to extend their lives, they could at best eke out a meager existence for a few more decades. During that time, they would have to constantly endure the pain and emptiness of their mana dissolving and their mental energy depleting.

Death was, and always had been, the outcome most feared by any living being, especially so for intelligent high-level life forms.

Even for Spellcasters who possessed extraordinary power, the ultimate goal of their pursuit of knowledge on the path of magic was, in truth, nothing more than the pursuit of a leap in the level of their existence.

At this thought, Harvey couldn’t help but sigh silently. Whatever accident the Scorching Sovereign had encountered that caused his life to be nearing its end, he, as a mid-rank mage of meager ability, was likely powerless to help.

“Mr. Scorching Sovereign, the other two Chiefs need to know your current situation, so after finding you, I must return to the real world to contact them and tell them the whole truth of what has happened here… Other than that, what else can I do for you?”

Harvey held great respect for this Legendary Mage, who was among the first to join his Forum and had always treated him with kindness.

As soon as he finished speaking, a soft, silvery-white light suddenly lit up before Harvey, completely illuminating the dark channel.

Not far in front of him, several Magic Spirits were circling a figure floating in mid-air. That figure was the source of the light—it was the Scorching Sovereign’s true self of flesh and blood. He had truly managed to break through the spatial barrier and enter the Magic Net in his physical form.

But what Harvey found terrifying was that the man’s glowing body was connected to deep black, capillary-like tubes extending from the walls of the dark channel. From a distance, the sight was as horrifying as a human-shaped house centipede suspended in mid-air.

As the Scorching Sovereign spoke again, those dense, tentacle-like tubes expanded and contracted in sync, squirming slowly as if they were alive.

“Mr. Kel’Thuzad… I apologize for… meeting you again in this manner.”

The Scorching Sovereign made out Harvey’s appearance, and his mind seemed to have temporarily stabilized. His voice was much more solid, without the distinct stutter and echo from before.

“You can see the state I’m in… Even if the other two Chiefs were to come in person, there would be nothing they could do.”

Taking advantage of his current lucidity, Harvey quickly asked, “Is this the Flesh and Soul Fusion Ritual you mentioned? Can it really extend one’s life? Then why didn’t you return to the real world after completing it?”

The Scorching Sovereign gave a bitter smile and murmured, “After I learned of this ancient, mysterious ritual, I spent a long time repeatedly verifying and researching it. It was only recently, when my… symptoms became somewhat unstable, that I finally decided to proceed… But I forgot one crucial thing: if the ritual were truly safe and effective, why didn’t my teacher… perform it himself?”

He paused, seeming to be struggling to maintain his sanity, then continued after a moment, “Using the method my teacher left behind, I successfully found the entrance to this dark channel. The ritual itself went very smoothly. I almost completely reshaped the sea of consciousness and mana channels within my body, reverting them to a newborn state… But then I discovered that I could never leave this place again.”

“Through the ritual, my body has assimilated with the Magic Net space. It must constantly absorb a vast and pure supply of magical energy to sustain itself. The moment I leave this dark channel, where the magical energy is at its most frenzied and abundant, I will immediately be like a fish out of water. I wouldn’t last more than a few minutes before drying up and perishing…”

These words left Harvey stunned on the spot. He had never imagined that the price for the Scorching Sovereign’s rebirth would be so tragic. This was likely the main reason he was trapped here, unable to send any warnings or calls for help to the outside world.

According to his description, if he were to return to the real world, it would indeed be impossible for his physical body to draw enough magical energy across the dimensions from the Magic Net to sustain his currently altered form.

This was not an amount of mana that could be satisfied by meditation and absorbing energy from magic stones alone. Based on his own perception of the mana density in this dark channel, Harvey judged that in the real world, the Scorching Sovereign would probably need to be simultaneously connected to more than three giant Planet-level Energy-gathering Arrays just to avoid dying from mana depletion.

Wait a minute! Planet-level Energy-gathering Arrays!

A bolt of lightning suddenly flashed through Harvey’s mind, and an idea he himself found incredible emerged.

If the Scorching Sovereign were hooked up to several Planet-level Energy-gathering Arrays, like a patient on a ventilator, and they were run at maximum power without interruption, providing a continuous stream of pure magical energy from the Magic Net to supply his body’s needs, could he be successfully transferred back to the real world?

“Mr. Scorching Sovereign! I might have a way to help you escape from here!” Harvey said in a low voice, trying his best to control his excitement.

“However, it will require the help of Mr. Turing and Mr. von Neumann. I can mediate between them. After all, the Federation and the Spellcaster Forum are still in a good cooperative relationship. I’m sure they won’t simply stand by and do nothing.”

Chapter 273: The Mana Infusion Experiment

Harvey concluded his conversation with The Scorching Sovereign, bidding farewell to the Chief who was unexpectedly trapped in the dark channels of the Magic Net. He quickly disconnected and returned to the real world.

Removing the heavy metal energy helmet from his head, Harvey sat down before the Magic Brain device without a moment’s delay and reconnected with the two Federation Chiefs, who were anxiously awaiting his news.

[Kel’Thuzad: Chiefs, under Mr. Turing’s guidance, I have found Lord Scorching Sovereign’s location… You were right, he did indeed cross over into the Magic Net space in physical form, and he is currently trapped due to some unforeseen circumstances.]

The two Chiefs, currently in Blackstone City, quickly received the message. The short Dawson slapped his thigh and turned to the black-robed Gallagher, saying indignantly, “As expected! That guy Salas really did risk trying that ritual!”

[Spirit Snatcher: Why is he trapped? Did he encounter the Church’s Demon Slayers ambushing him in the Magic Net?]

Legendary-rank Mages were almost all Magic Net roamers capable of protecting themselves. Because they fully understood the unknown dangers within the Magic Net space, they tended to be far more cautious and were unlikely to meet with disaster due to some rash exploration.

[Kel’Thuzad: There was no attack from the Church. The Scorching Sovereign’s predicament is entirely due to an accident caused by performing some dangerous ritual… I can fully confirm this.]

Harvey paused for a moment, carefully choosing his words before continuing.

[Kel’Thuzad: My Lords, please forgive me for not informing you beforehand and seeking Mr. Turing’s help in rescuing the Scorching Sovereign… At my request, the Forum has already agreed to begin the rescue operation.]

Gallagher was stunned for a moment. He exchanged a look of disbelief with Dawson and stammered, “Has this guy had a change of heart? He’s not talking about business every other sentence. Is this on the Forum’s orders… or is this a gesture of goodwill from him alone?”

Dawson stroked his graying beard, pondered for a moment, and said softly, “He is the Forum’s agent, after all. Regardless of his attitude or motives, he certainly can’t go against the Forum’s consistent stance. This at least shows that the Forum still leans in our favor, rather than being completely neutral.”

He stood up and paced back and forth, somewhat anxiously. He sighed, “This guy… Hmph, using the Forum’s power to earn himself a huge favor. Now we’ll probably owe him even more.”

But with the current situation with the Church and the Demons being so tense, they couldn’t possibly ignore the First Chief being trapped in another dimension. Even though Salas himself hadn’t been very involved in the Federation’s internal affairs for a long time, the loss of a Legendary Caster was a loss they could not afford.

[Shadow Knight: Regardless of the price the Forum requires for the rescue, we can discuss that later… Mr. Kel’Thuzad, the important thing now is how to rescue Lord Scorching Sovereign.]

[Kel’Thuzad: Right now, we need to find a large, secure magic stone vein that is completely under the Federation’s control. I can’t help with that; you’ll have to rely on yourselves.]

What? A large magic stone vein?

Dawson, being short-tempered, shot to his feet. Pointing at the Magic Brain device’s crystal screen, he said angrily, “Look! It’s still business! He has the nerve to ask for a whole magic stone vein in exchange for Salas’s safety.”

Gallagher rolled his eyes speechlessly and pointed at the text that subsequently appeared on the crystal screen. “Can’t you finish reading before you lose your temper? He said the rescue site needs to be set up within the vein…”

[Kel’Thuzad: Following Mr. Turing’s instructions, I need to set up the necessary apparatus and site for the rescue within the magic stone vein. You will also be responsible for providing all the instruments, equipment, and materials used…]

Dawson’s face flushed red instantly. He said sheepishly, “That’s more like it. We should be responsible for the instruments and materials anyway.”

…

After a long exchange and discussion with the two Legendary Chiefs, Harvey learned that the Federation happened to have a magic stone vein in the mountains surrounding Araye. Although its currently known reserves and the quality of its output were not as good as the new Mining Area in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, its scale was at least sufficient for their needs. Moreover, it was completely under the Federation’s control, so its security and secrecy could be guaranteed.

So, next, Harvey needed to immediately begin the preliminary experiments for the rescue operation: how to set up a Planet-level Energy-gathering Array, connect it across dimensions to The Scorching Sovereign who was trapped in the dark channels, and use the mana extracted from the magic stone vein to bring him back from the Magic Net.

To build and activate a Planet-level Energy-gathering Array, one essential prerequisite was a natural magic stone vein that produced pure magical energy. Besides this, there was no other way in the real world to provide sufficient power for such a massive magical energy transmission device.

The secret mining site Harvey had set up deep within the Spine of the Continent Mountains was actually more suitable than the one the Federation possessed. However, he had no intention of currying favor with the Federation to that extent. Besides, bringing a Legendary-rank Spellcaster to his own doorstep would probably scare him so much he wouldn’t be able to sleep well at night.

“My lord, this mana infusion experiment, why must it be conducted in the Spine of the Gods Mountains underground base? There are several ready-made Planet-level Energy-gathering Arrays in the territory, aren’t there?” Astaren was a bit confused after hearing Harvey’s experimental plan.

Harvey explained patiently, “The Planet-level Energy-gathering Arrays in the territory can’t afford to have any problems, not even for a moment. If one were to overload, overheat, and shut down, not only would the daily power supply for the populace be cut off instantly, but all the instruments, equipment, and alchemical beasts in the production factories would immediately cease to function. Every minute of downtime is a huge financial loss for us. It’s not worth paying such a high price.”

The energy-gathering array at the Spine of the Gods Mountains underground base was only responsible for powering the liquid magical energy conversion instrument. It was more than enough to support a Living Tunneling Machine that drilled through the mountain all day. The remaining energy could be used for the mana infusion experiment.

…

At the crack of dawn, Harvey, without any delay, immediately arrived at the Spine of the Gods Mountains base with a squad of his personal guard and Astaren.

The base director was on rotational leave back in the territory, so Pepp, the group leader of the Engineer Corps, had temporarily taken command of the territory’s exploration efforts.

The Engineer Corps group leader, who was perennially covered in dust and sweat stains, received the news of the Lord’s surprise inspection, scrambled out of bed in a hurry, and rushed to the base entrance to greet him.

“My Lord!” Pepp stood at the entrance, at a loss, waiting for the Lord to reprimand him. For the past three months, they had pushed the tunneling machine to its limits, yet they still hadn’t found the so-called “Magic Core” the Lord had spoken of.

Moreover, because of an overly aggressive drilling plan, a small-scale collapse had occurred in a small section of a deep tunnel. Two tunneling machine operators had their arms and legs crushed. They had just undergone transplant surgery for mechanical prosthetics and were now at home on work injury leave.

“My lord, the Energy Ranch is currently operating normally. It’s just that the search for the Magic Core… still has no leads.”

Harvey walked past the trembling Pepp without a sideways glance, patting him on the shoulder as he went.

“Forget about the Magic Core for now. Shut down the Blood-Awakening Instrument and the tunneling machine. I need to use the energy-gathering array for an experiment.”

Chapter 274: Technology Outsourcing Business

Three days later, in a mountain valley about half a day’s journey from Araye.

Spellshield Fran Macaulay received an important, temporary assignment and secretly arrived here with a squad of core members from the Department of Magical Affairs.

This was the largest magic stone vein independently controlled by the Federation, aside from the Evil Moon Mountain Range Mining Area. It had been discovered and mined for about thirty years now.

Before this, the production of nearly all high-grade magic stones in the Southern Continent was firmly controlled by the Dwarves of the southern Breath of the Hills. The Federation had considered starting a war to seize control, but Human Spellcasters simply didn’t possess the same affinity for magical minerals as the Burrowing Dwarves. They couldn’t accurately prospect for veins hundreds of meters deep in the dark underground, let alone match the centuries of mining technology developed by the Dwarves.

But this vein was completely different. The high-grade raw ore was deposited at a very shallow depth, with some branch veins even exposed on the surface. After the Federation dispatched a Mage Corps to clear out the large number of symbiotic Demonic beasts that dwelled in the vicinity, they naturally took it for their own.

This event completely shattered the Dwarves’ monopoly on raw magic stone ore, allowing the Federation to control the internal magic stone trade for Human Spellcasters. Needless to say, the importance of this vein was self-evident.

Before coming here, the Spellshield had only been told by Chief Lord Dawson that the Federation had reached a “technology outsourcing service” agreement with Mr. Kel’Thuzad, the agent for the Forum. He was to be responsible for cooperating with and receiving the magical technical personnel sent by the other party; all other details were withheld.

But he had a nagging feeling that this matter was likely connected to the mysterious disappearance of First Chief Lord Salas some time ago.

For the core members within the Federation, the Chief’s disappearance was no longer an absolute secret that a few high-level leaders could completely control. Several internal cliques, including the Spellshield’s own, had long been discussing it in private and had all voiced their opinions.

Some believed that Lord Salas’s supposed disappearance was a pretext for him to go into secret seclusion to seek a cure, a relapse of the after-effects from the damage his magical runes sustained in a previous research accident.

Others thought that given the current dire situation with the Church, the Chief might have been covertly attacked by a large number of Demon Slayers they had dispatched. A secret battle involving a Legendary Caster was not something that could be resolved overnight.

But the Spellshield believed that regardless of the truth, if the Chief did not reappear soon to stabilize morale, given more time, those two-faced opportunists who had always straddled the fence within the Federation would probably start to badmouth the Federation’s situation and claim that the Legendary had already fallen unexpectedly.

…

Only after seeing the person stepping out of the Mining Area’s continental teleportation array did the Spellshield truly realize that the purpose of this cooperation was not so simple.

“Mr. Kel’Thuzad? You came in person?”

Seeing it was the familiar Mr. Macaulay welcoming him, Harvey manipulated the soul puppet to twist its pale face into a stiff smile.

“Mr. Macaulay, long time no see.”

There were many other Federation members present, so the Spellshield couldn’t act too familiar with him, lest he expose their close private relationship. He put on a stern, business-like expression and said, “Lord Dawson and Lord Gallagher co-signed a special order for us to fully cooperate with you on this experimental collaboration. Please feel free to ask for anything you need.”

He saw that the other party had brought no more than a dozen people, more than half of whom were burly and muscular—clearly mage squires who had awakened their bloodline power. They likely served as Mr. Kel’Thuzad’s personal guard for his daily security, while also shouldering the task of transporting the numerous heavy wooden crates he brought with him.

It seemed the work of assisting with the experiment would ultimately fall to his group of Spellcasters from the Department of Magical Affairs.

Harvey, dressed in a dark hooded robe, smiled faintly and said softly to the Spellshield, “Then let’s not waste any time. We can begin the experiment immediately.”

Before the Spellshield could ask what kind of experiment it was, he heard Harvey add in a low, ghostly voice.

“Next, please have Mr. Macaulay clear the Mining Area. Have all related personnel and Spellcasters leave…”

A mid-rank Spellcaster standing beside the Spellshield immediately stepped forward, questioning with some dissatisfaction: “Mr. Kel’Thuzad, even if the experiment doesn’t require our assistance, this is still a Mining Area controlled by the Federation. To demand our departure as soon as you arrive, isn’t that a bit disrespectful to the Federation?”

With him taking the lead, the other younger Spellcasters immediately chimed in. As the premier and most powerful organization in the Southern Continent’s magical world, those who could serve within the Federation were all elite Spellcasters cultivated by the major wizard families and Spellcaster Academies.

They were always the ones looking down on others, and had never been so ignored and disdained as they were today.

The Spellshield had only just taken over the position of deputy director of the Department of Affairs. It was only thanks to being a member of the Forum, along with several Chiefs, that he had risen to his current position so quickly. He had not even sorted out the tangled web of factions within the department and was completely unable to suppress this group of proud Federation elites.

Harvey, however, was unconcerned. He glanced around at the indignant Spellcasters before him and asked with a light laugh, “Gentlemen, regarding the cooperation agreement mentioned in this mission, have none of you read the specific details beforehand?”

A personal guard took a stack of thin papers from a briefcase and handed them to Harvey. Holding them up, he gave them a light shake. “The so-called technology outsourcing means that the magical knowledge and experimental techniques required for this experiment are things the Federation does not currently possess. Therefore, your presence here is useless. Wouldn’t it be better to save your energy and rest at the station outside the Mining Area, correct?”

“You! This is a blatant provocation! I absolutely will not accept such an insult! I challenge you to a magical du—”

Before the young Spellcaster could finish, the Spellshield flicked a spell at his face. It was a palm-sized web of icy silk, which stuck fast over his mouth, sealing it shut.

Only then did everyone realize that their new director, Mr. Macaulay, who was usually stern-faced but gentle in demeanor, was himself a high-level caster. Although he was a research-type mage unskilled in combat, high-rank was still high-rank, far stronger than this group of mid-rank Spellcasters who had just rotated back from the Evil Moon Mountain Range.

“Silence! Show no disrespect to Mr. Kel’Thuzad!” the Spellshield barked, a rare display of anger. “Everyone, obey the Chief’s directive and withdraw from the Mining Area with me!”

With the new director having stated his position and given a direct order, the others could only shut their mouths resentfully, but they continued to glare at Harvey with hostility.

“Wait!”

Harvey suddenly spoke up, stopping the group that was about to leave.

“Since everyone has doubts about the technical difficulty of this experiment, why not let Mr. Macaulay and this gentleman… the one who first raised an objection, stay behind to observe and bear witness.”

Chapter 275: Saving the Chief

Spellshield and Keli stood on the edge of an enormous, pre-cleared underground mine pit, looking down at the busy figures at the bottom. The other party had begun drawing a temporary teleportation circle directly onto the exposed ore vein. The array’s patterns looked exceptionally large and complex, unlike any of the common spell models.

“Keli, you were far too reckless and rude just now,” Spellshield couldn’t help but chide his subordinate in a low voice.

This mid-rank Mage, named Keli, hailed from a large wizard family in the ‘Cavalry Kingdom’ of Isengard. He was an outstanding student from Araye Magic Academy, the most prestigious magic academy on the continent, and had been recruited directly into the Federation upon graduation. He had just returned to Araye after finishing his duty rotation in Blackstone City.

Arrogant, talented mages like him were not uncommon in the Federation. In terms of family background and bloodline, he was second to none among his peers, and his own magical knowledge was exceptionally outstanding. He was no pretty face who had gotten in through connections.

“Hmph… I didn’t want to be discourteous, but that Mr. Kel’Thuzad was just too arrogant. He showed no regard for the Federation’s dignity and was the one to offer insolent provocations first,” Keli retorted, trying to defend himself against his superior’s criticism.

Spellshield sighed and said faintly, “To be honest, he wasn’t being arrogant. As a high-rank Caster, the same as me, every word he said was the truth. We really can’t be of much help.”

“What? He… he’s a high-rank Caster, too? But…” Keli was stunned. He never imagined that this pale, frail-looking young man, who seemed to be in his early twenties and about his own age, was actually a high-rank Caster, a full rank above him.

His face instantly flushed red, and he stammered, unable to speak.

“It’s absolutely true. Not only is he a high-rank Caster, but he’s one who specializes in both alchemy and elemental magic… That standard-issue magic artifact, the Gun of Annihilation, which you’ve been showing off to your colleagues since you returned from Blackstone City? He created it with his own hands.”

Spellshield gave the now-panicked and shocked Keli a meaningful look and continued, “So don’t blame me for acting unbecoming of my station and shutting you up just now. If you’d actually blurted out that you wanted to challenge him to a Spell Duel, hehe… You’re the scion of a great wizard family. You should be well aware of the consequences for a lower-ranked wizard who offends a high-rank one, right?”

Keli stumbled back several steps, belatedly realizing that his back was drenched in a cold sweat.

Just as the young Spellcaster, who believed he’d caused a huge disaster and offended a high-rank Caster, was about to find an excuse to flee, his entire attention was suddenly captivated by a series of intense magical fluctuations emanating from the bottom of the pit.

“Are they… activating the teleportation circle?” Spellshield muttered to himself, a look of confusion on his face.

No! That was no common small-scale, short-range teleportation array! Nor was it an ordinary continental transit array… But the increasingly powerful mana fluctuations indicated that the large array fixed upon a brass base at the bottom of the pit was already in the process of teleportation.

Keli suddenly recalled some knowledge about ancient arrays he had learned at the magic academy. In a trembling voice, he guessed, “Mr. McCaulin, they couldn’t be… they couldn’t have created a long-lost teleportation array to other dimensions, could they?”

Could this be the magical technology the young high-rank Caster had mentioned, one that even the Federation did not possess?

At this thought, Keli immediately focused his entire mind, locking his gaze onto the complex diagram engraved on the brass base, trying to commit it to memory with a Spellcaster’s powerful eidetic abilities so he could study and replicate it later.

But after only a moment, he felt dizzy. A sharp, piercing headache almost made him faint—the strange diagram seemed to come alive at regular intervals, suddenly twisting and transforming. And this transformation was not entirely chaotic; it followed some kind of strange pattern and order.

“Stop trying to record and analyze the array’s structure, or you’ll suffer from the backlash… It will harm your sea of consciousness and your Mental Anchor.” Spellshield placed a hand on Keli’s back, preventing him from the embarrassment of falling over right there.

At the bottom of the pit, Rainer, completely wrapped in his robes, held a checklist and directed the Bloodline Warriors to unload large alchemical components that were arriving through the teleportation array every few seconds. They then busily began to assemble them.

“My lord, the operational efficiency of this planetary teleportation array drawn with Living Source Code is truly incredible,” Rainer said. “I thought we would have to wait an entire day for the territory to send over the parts for the few energy-gathering arrays.”

Several Bloodline Warriors opened the dozen or so crates that had just arrived, revealing rows of exquisitely structured, pocket-sized Wolf Spider alchemical beasts. They crawled out of the boxes on their own, scurrying on their eight insectoid legs to quickly join the assembly of the energy-gathering arrays.

Three brass-colored, giant cylindrical Planet-level Energy-gathering Arrays were quickly assembled. Rainer then carefully lifted three silver-white metal shafts, each as thick as a person’s thigh, from the last box delivered by the teleportation array.

These were the core power sources for activating and starting the energy-gathering arrays, as well as the energy-shuttling devices that ensured the instruments could freely link the real world with the Magic Net space.

Harvey had consumed a dozen adult Magic Spirits as conversion material, extracting their souls into these three runic cores.

The three energy-gathering arrays were positioned in a triangle, surrounding the brass-based teleportation array. After the Wolf Spider alchemical beasts crawled into the cylindrical arrays and finished installing the runic cores, Harvey picked up a prepared energy-connecting tube, attached it to a metal headset, nodded at Rainer, and placed it directly onto his own head.

Because Harvey had left positioning coordinates in the dark channels of the Magic Net space before he left, it was now easy for him to open an entrance to the dark channels and directly reach the area where the Scorching Sovereign was trapped, all thanks to the connection with the Magic Spirit-infused runic cores.

“Mr. Scorching Sovereign? How are you feeling right now?” Harvey carefully used his mental energy to awaken the Legendary Chief.

The humanoid, centipede-like figure of the Scorching Sovereign, who was suspended in the dark channel, began to emit a soft glow. An old, faltering voice sounded at the same time, “Mr. Kel’Thuzad… So soon? Have you already obtained a method to rescue me from the Forum?”

Harvey replied with full confidence, “That’s right. Please rest assured, this is a method taught to me personally by the Forum Administrator, Mr. Turing. I have also verified it repeatedly through experiments over the past few days. There shouldn’t be any major problems.”

The Scorching Sovereign let out a soft sigh. “Any venture carries the risk of failure… but that’s not important. Compared to being trapped indefinitely in these chaotic, dark channels, I can fully accept any accident that might happen during the attempt to return to the real world.”

He paused, then muttered somewhat dazedly, “The longer I remain here, the more I feel my sanity being eroded by some unknowable force. If I can’t escape soon, I fear that in a little while, I will completely lose my mind and become a parasitic monster that only knows how to mindlessly absorb mana in these dark channels…”

Harvey nodded and said no more. He transformed his mental energy into numerous massive tentacles and reached out, establishing an initial connection with the Scorching Sovereign’s completely open sea of consciousness and Mental Anchor.

Even for a Legendary Caster, letting down all defenses to accept the intrusion of another’s mental energy was incredibly dangerous. However, Harvey currently held the special status of a Forum agent, and in the past, he had always clearly favored the small clique formed by the Federation on the Forum.

Therefore, the Scorching Sovereign believed that Harvey’s efforts and goodwill in rescuing him were worthy of his complete, unreserved trust and the entrustment of his own safety.

Chapter 276: Return to Reality, Settling the Bill

After completing the mental link with the Scorching Sovereign, Harvey didn’t linger. He informed the Legendary Chief of the specific details and precautions for the upcoming physical cross-planar transfer, then immediately manipulated his mental energy projection to return to the real world.

Even across different spatial planes, he still needed to maintain the mental link. Thanks to the immense mental energy provided by the vast and unparalleled Mental Anchor, Harvey only needed to maintain a state of highly focused meditation to ensure the link wouldn’t suddenly break due to spanning across space.

Rainer, who was waiting nearby, had long since cooperated with Harvey on multiple Mana Infusion Experiments. Upon receiving Harvey’s instructions, he expertly approached the Planet-level Energy-gathering Array, pulled the control lever, and directly activated the massive mana conversion device.

The inscription symbols on the base of the energy-gathering array lit up one by one, and the device began to emit a low, slow hum.

But Rainer didn’t stop there. He pulled the control lever again, pushing the energy-gathering array’s operating power to its maximum—a “critical power supply mode” that had never been attempted in the territory before.

The slightest misstep could cause the energy-gathering array to overload. At best, it would overheat and shut down completely; at worst, it would explode on the spot and be destroyed.

Then, Rainer directly took a slender energy conduit and plugged it into the power slot on his waist. This allowed him to personally sense the strength of the magical energy absorption and conversion within the energy-gathering array, making it easier to continuously adjust the power to keep the device at the critical supply point for an extended period without overloading it.

…

Standing on high ground, Spellshield and Keli watched the scene below in shock. The entire mine was now filled with a surging, dense, pure mana, causing them to hold their breath and not dare to speak. They could only stare intently at the three strange, giant alchemical instruments and the teleportation circle in their center, which constantly shifted its lines and runes like a living creature.

A moment later, a faint, almost imperceptible spatial fluctuation suddenly appeared above the brass-based circle.

Harvey, standing motionless surrounded by several Bloodline Warriors, had his eyes tightly closed, clearly in a state of meditation. A flush gradually appeared on his deathly pale face, and beads of sweat slowly seeped from his hairline, as if he were at a critical point in guiding some sort of ritual.

The spatial fluctuation above the circle gradually intensified until a translucent spatial fissure appeared out of thin air, visible to the naked eye.

Immediately after, a human figure, tightly wrapped in countless strange, gray tentacles, slowly materialized from the fissure, beginning a slow transformation from illusion to reality.

The three high-speed energy-gathering arrays began to emit a sharp, strained hum. Rainer repeatedly adjusted the power levers, but he couldn’t stop the violent streams of pure magical energy that were constantly escaping from the devices. One slender energy beam even shot past his shoulder as fast as lightning, directly knocking off a tough metal pauldron forged from Phantomlight Copper.

All the Bloodline Warriors gathered around Harvey, but they didn’t dare move the Lord, who was currently in a state of meditation. None of them flinched in fear; instead, they all raised alchemical plates, three fingers thick, in front of themselves for some protection.

“What on earth are they doing? At this rate, this rampant mana will probably cause the whole mine to collapse!” Keli snapped out of his shock and hurriedly suggested to Spellshield, who was standing beside him, “Mr. McCaulin, let’s get out of here. Forget about their crazy experiment…”

Spellshield’s brow furrowed. He was just about to tell this chattering, cowardly subordinate to leave when he suddenly felt a familiar mana fluctuation from behind.

He whirled around and saw a dark black figure speeding in from the mine entrance, rapidly approaching them by blinking in and out of sight.

“Lord Gallagher? Weren’t you…”

The black-robed Chief raised a hand to stop the question Spellshield was about to ask, his expression grave as he turned to look down below.

“How far along is the experiment? Why haven’t they transferred Lord Salas out of the Magic Net yet?”

As soon as the words left the Chief’s mouth, Spellshield felt a loud ringing in his head. He staggered back two steps and nearly fell to the ground.

I knew it! It really was about Lord Salas’s disappearance! The Chief… he was actually trapped in the Magic Net? And he entered the Magic Net space in his physical, flesh-and-blood form? How was that even possible? Why did such an accident happen?

Gallagher had no intention of explaining further. His gaze never left the scene below as he muttered to himself, “Could it be that even the rescue method Mr. Turing provided can’t save that fellow Salas?”

Keli, standing to the side, had no idea what was going on. He stared blankly and pleaded with the black-robed Chief, “Lord Gallagher, their crazy experiment is going to bring the whole mine down on us! Please, intervene and stop this farce!”

Spellshield nearly fainted with anger at the idiot’s words. The black-robed Chief slowly turned his head, glanced at the young mid-rank Spellcaster with a puzzled expression, and with a flick of his hand, sent out a long whip made of condensed black smoke. It wrapped around Keli’s waist, and with a sharp tug, flung him backward out of the mine like a cannonball.

“On such an important occasion, why did you let this useless kid in here to cause trouble?”

Spellshield was left speechless by the Chief’s words, standing frozen in place. He stammered, not daring to offer an explanation, since he himself belonged to the “useless” category here.

…

The two of them waited on the high ground for another moment. Finally, they saw the spatial fissure hovering above the circle stabilize. The illusory figure wrapped in tentacles gradually solidified. The figure slowly extended several translucent, visible mental energy tentacles from its body, which rapidly reached down into the circle below, connecting with the constantly shifting runes.

However, the turbulent magical energy made these tentacles extremely fragile, like spiderwebs trembling in a gale, ready to snap at any moment.

Seeing this, Gallagher immediately said, “Let’s go. We’ll go down and see if we can help!” With that, he cast a flight spell and descended directly into the pit below. Spellshield hurriedly followed.

As soon as the two of them landed, the Bloodline Warriors surrounding Harvey immediately broke their human wall, revealing Harvey, who had already opened his eyes, having completed the meditative guidance.

“Lord Gallagher? What are you doing here? Don’t you trust my rescue plan?” Harvey, controlling the soul puppet, greeted the Legendary Chief with a smile, addressing him as an equal.

The black-robed Chief showed a rare, embarrassed expression. He had indeed been worried and had secretly returned to Araye two days ago. Besides, for something as important as rescuing the Federation’s First Chief, even with help from the mysterious organization behind the Forum, how could he and Dawson truly just stand by and do nothing?

“Ahem… I’ve worked with Salas for decades, so I was truly worried about his situation… But from the looks of it now, things are progressing smoothly. It seems I made this trip for nothing…”

Harvey smiled without saying a word. He raised his hand and pointed at the circle in the center of the energy-gathering arrays. The mental energy tentacles wrapped around the figure all dispersed, revealing the tall, white-haired and white-bearded Legendary Chief within—the Scorching Sovereign, Kemer Salas.

The Legendary Caster’s eyes were closed, seemingly still in a state of deep meditation. Having just undergone a reverse physical-form spatial transfer, it appeared he had exhausted his reserves of mana and mental energy. He would need a continuous supply of abundant magical energy from the arrays to be reawakened.

Gallagher let out a long sigh of relief and sincerely thanked Harvey, “Please convey my gratitude to Mr. Turing. The Federation will never forget the Forum’s kind assistance in rescuing Lord Salas, as well as… your own help, Mr. Kel’Thuzad. According to the Forum’s principle of equivalent exchange, what price must we pay this time?”

Upon hearing this, Harvey immediately pulled a thin list from his robes and handed it to Gallagher with a smile. “No need to be so polite. This is both an act of goodwill from the Forum and a business transaction that strictly adheres to the principle of equivalent exchange… This is an itemized invoice for the instrument materials and corresponding technician commission expenses for this rescue operation. Please settle the payment directly with gold pounds later. If you have cash flow problems, I also accept partial payment in alchemical plants and magical materials…”

The moment he finished speaking, the Scorching Sovereign, who had been floating in the center of the circle playing dead, suddenly opened his eyes. He couldn’t help but laugh and curse, “You damn little brat, with nothing but business on your mind! Are you that eager to charge us a fee? And to use something as vulgar as money to measure the value of my old life? You might as well just sell me off!”

Chapter 277: The Caged Beast and the Truth

“So you’re saying that even if Salas successfully returns to the physical world, he must remain connected to these strange mana devices forever? That he’ll die of mana exhaustion the moment he’s disconnected?”

Although they had briefly discussed the aftermath of a successful rescue beforehand, when Gallagher heard Harvey confirm it once more, he still found it incredibly difficult to accept.

How was this any different from being imprisoned and stripped of all freedom? For a Chief of the Federation to be shackled by mana was not only a complete humiliation to his personal dignity but also a tremendous loss for the Federation itself.

Losing a Legendary Caster to preside over the City of Magic, Araye, was a dire turn of events for the Federation’s current conflict with the Church.

Harvey was at a loss as well. There was no large magic stone vein beneath Araye’s Celestial Domain. The idea of powering a Planet-level Energy-gathering Array to supply mana for The Scorching Sovereign by simply piling up magic stones was completely unrealistic.

It was no different than trying to raise a shark in a fishbowl. The Federation, already beset by enemies on two fronts, could not bear such a massive consumption of high-grade magic stones.

The Scorching Sovereign, however, didn’t seem to mind at all. He sighed lightly and smiled. “Just getting my life back is already the best possible outcome for me… Besides, my Soul-Splitting Sickness has been almost completely brought under control thanks to this risky attempt. At least for a long time to come, I won’t have to worry about my lifespan.”

Soul-Splitting Sickness? Harvey instinctively glanced at Mr. Spellshield, recalling a rumor about the Legendary Chief that Mr. Son of Flame had casually mentioned during a chat on the Forum—years ago, while analyzing an original nine-circle spell, Chief Salas had suffered a catastrophic failure that severely damaged his magical runes.

Although he had managed to mend his damaged soul with the formidable power of a Legendary Caster, the after-effect of such a soul-level injury was the occasional manifestation of multiple physical personalities due to fluctuations in his mental energy and the leakage of magical energy from his body.

In short, due to a failed experiment, The Scorching Sovereign had unfortunately contracted a supernatural version of “schizophrenia,” and it was so severe he could play a three-person card game all by himself.

This had led to a situation both laughable and tragic. After becoming a three-in-one schizophrenic, the Legendary Chief’s lifespan had been evenly distributed among his three splintered souls. Even if his prodigious talent allowed him to surpass the three-hundred-year lifespan limit for human Spellcasters, being split like this left him with only a few years left.

Now, The Scorching Sovereign was connected to the large central array by dozens of energy conduits, his range of movement henceforth confined to this small space. A new problem had arisen—how to undo these terrifying mana shackles and regain his freedom.

“Mr. Turing and Mr. von Neumann… currently have no leads on this. As you all know, while the Forum is mysterious and powerful, it is not omniscient and omnipotent,” Harvey explained patiently.

Gallagher nodded in understanding. Even if there were a way to solve The Scorching Sovereign’s current predicament, it was uncertain whether the Federation could afford the corresponding price. Unlike the money-grubbing Mr. Kel’Thuzad, the mysterious beings behind the Forum couldn’t be appeased with just glittering coins.

…

Seeing that both Federation Chiefs had imprinted their unique mana insignias on the bill, Harvey smiled and took it, tucking it into his pocket.

“I will continue to send people over to install a few more mana supply devices for Mr. The Scorching Sovereign, but for now, all magic stone extraction in this Mining Area must cease. Any activity that could affect the mana fluctuations of the magic stone vein must be strictly forbidden.”

Spellshield quickly committed Harvey’s subsequent requirements to memory. This would likely be his primary responsibility for the foreseeable future.

Salas chuckled self-deprecatingly. “From now on, I’ll have to live like one of those ancient subspecies of Dragons, deep within this sunless, subterranean cavern. Fortunately, I have the Magic Brain device provided by the Forum to pass the time. Otherwise, I’d truly be bored to death.”

While directing his men to start packing up the site, Harvey offered some warm words of comfort. “Lord Chief, there’s no need to be so disheartened. As long as the Forum exists, we will eventually find a way to free you… I will also keep researching this problem and try to find a complete solution.”

The black-robed Chief, Gallagher, grumbled loudly, “And how many gold pounds will that cost? If the Federation had known, we never should have fought so hard for the magic stone mines in the Evil Moon Mountain Range. We would have been better off sending troops directly to Isengard to seize a gold mine.”

Isengard, the “Cavalry Kingdom,” was a secular kingdom famous for its gold mines. However, it had always been held firmly in the grip of the Radiant Church, and the Federation had never been able to get a foothold there, as gold was a crucial material for crafting divine art artifacts.

Harvey chuckled along good-naturedly, then politely bid the two Chiefs farewell. Accompanied by Spellshield, he left the underground cavern and returned to the Federation’s surface outpost outside the Mining Area. He needed to use the continental teleportation array there to pass through Da’ers and sneak back to Jackdaw Town—the situation in St. Valen was tense now, and all Federation branches within its borders had been evacuated.

…

Away from the constant pressure and gaze of the two Legendary Casters, Spellshield relaxed considerably and began to chat familiarly with Harvey.

“Mr. Kel’Thuzad, I didn’t expect this matter to be so secretive. I received no specific details at all before coming here.”

“It couldn’t be helped. After all, if news that a Chief was missing and trapped got out within the Federation, it would likely cause immediate turmoil. If the Church found out, it would certainly lead to more complications.”

Spellshield couldn’t help but think that if the news had truly leaked, the Church could have sent powerful experts to ambush them near the Mining Area, striking at the critical moment of the rescue operation to disrupt it. The situation would have deteriorated instantly, causing the already perilous rescue to fail completely.

Thankfully, Mr. Kel’Thuzad was well-prepared and experienced, and thankfully, Lord Gallagher had secretly returned to Araye to prevent any accidents.

With his worries assuaged, Spellshield casually changed the subject, bringing up the recent plague that had broken out in St. Valen and the matter of asking Harvey to treat and care for Mr. Son of Flame’s nephew.

“I heard that young man, Durt, has officially started working for you, Mr. Kel’Thuzad? Please take good care of him. In recent years, he’s the only promising talent to come out of Ferr’s family.”

What was more worrying was that this sole talented scion had, against all family tradition and expectation, shockingly chosen to become a research-type Spellcaster instead of following the advancement path of a battle mage. He preferred to languish in the Federation branch of a small, secular duchy like St. Valen rather than striving for greatness, a decision that nearly made Son of Flame, who had always treated him as his own, cough up blood in frustration.

Harvey, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, said, “Mr. Durt is indeed completely uninterested in combat spellcasting. Right now, he hasn’t actively sought any magical experiment or research-related work with me. He… he seems to prefer staying in the magic academy I set up, teaching the young apprentices the fundamentals of magic…”

Spellshield was rendered speechless. He was so taken aback by this “slacker youth’s” choice that he couldn’t find any words for a long moment.

Chapter 278: A Skewed Tech Tree

After returning to the pioneer territories, Harvey gave himself a full week off to recover the immense mental energy he had expended rescuing The Scorching Sovereign. He set aside all his official duties and experimental projects, spending his days either reading magical biographies and novels in the castle or passing the time in adventure games on the Magic Net Forum.

Four days later, the Federation sent the first batch of magical materials via the Magic Net teleportation array to offset the rescue fee—it was a shipment of several hundred boxes of Frigid Black Iron, which at a rough estimate likely weighed over ten tons.

This was undoubtedly another loan the Federation had secured from the Alchemical Exploration Society. Ever since the Esoteric Society had switched to assembling the refined components for the Gun of Annihilation, they had long since halted the mass production of cheap, standard-issue magic artifacts. The mountains of magical ores and auxiliary materials they had stockpiled were now completely useless.

Harvey had only ever learned about this common magical metal in his basic materials course at the magic academy and wasn’t very familiar with its specific applications. He immediately sent for the materials identification expert, Chris.

The Alchemy Laboratory director hurried over. Seeing the mountain of refined black iron ingots being sorted and moved by the personal guard and alchemical beasts, he clicked his tongue in disdain. He turned to Harvey and said, “My Lord, the Federation is clearly being perfunctory. Frigid Black Iron is the most worthless magical mineral. Even if used to forge protective magic artifacts, its anti-magic effect is almost negligible…”

He took the shipping manifest Harvey handed him and noticed the officially stamped price, valuing the goods at a total of about ten thousand gold pounds. Only then did his dissatisfaction subside slightly. He muttered, “Their pricing is reasonable, though. If this shipment went through official channels, it would be worth about twelve thousand gold pounds. We haven’t lost out.”

Harvey picked up a black iron ingot. It wasn’t heavy, but it was unnaturally, bone-chillingly cold to the touch. He could directly feel the magical properties it contained.

“Besides forging low-tier magic artifacts, does this mineral have any other uses? If I were to mix it with ordinary metal ores to produce mass-produced parts for alchemical beasts, that should be fine, right?”

Chris chuckled. “My lord, that would be a bit extravagant… Although Frigid Black Iron has mediocre mana conductivity, it is the main material for manufacturing the Dragon’s Flame Gun. We could follow the Alchemical Exploration Society’s example and produce a batch of finished products to sell in the Evil Moon Mountain Range through the Dragonstone Merchant Guild.”

Harvey was familiar with the Dragon’s Flame Gun. Compared to the Magical Energy Gun and the Gun of Annihilation that he had developed, the device made by the Alchemical Exploration Society could at best be considered a firecracker tube. It was long and thin like a hollow bamboo pole; one would pour Dragon’s Flame powder into it, pack it tight, and then use their own mana to ignite it, spewing a jet of high-temperature magical flames.

It was nothing more than a cheap magical flamethrower, and its attack range was very short. Low-tier battle mages wielding Dragon’s Flame Guns typically only used such weapons at close range against Demon soldiers during large-scale battles.

The reason Frigid Black Iron was chosen to make the Dragon’s Flame Gun, aside from its low cost, was that its main advantage was its inherent chilling effect, which prevented the Dragon’s Flame powder from melting the barrel outright and turning the weapon into a single-use item.

In other words, Frigid Black Iron possessed significant high-temperature resistance and decent ductility during casting, allowing it to be easily forged and die-cast into the shape of a hollow iron tube…

After this explanation from Chris, a rather good idea suddenly popped into Harvey’s head.

He could try using this stuff to forge a cannon…

However, Harvey had no intention of tinkering with an ordinary medieval flintlock or bronze long-barreled cannon. After all, Dragon’s Flame, an alchemical powder infused with magical substances, far surpassed ordinary gunpowder in both power and stability. Now that he was in a magical world with supernatural powers, he naturally couldn’t stick to the scientific concepts of his past life.

Charging headlong toward the top of this magical world’s already skewed tech tree was the right choice, one that aligned with the developmental trends of the era.

…

Chris’s Alchemy Laboratory had a dedicated magical weapons manufacturing group permanently stationed at the magical munitions factory. They worked alongside the work-type alchemical beasts to mass-produce the Magical Energy Gun and its ammunition, while also handling trivial tasks like gun maintenance and returns for scrapping.

Harvey had Chris pull them from their duties to immediately begin developing a new “Magical Energy Beam Explosive.” If he wanted to build a supernatural version of a cannon, he first needed to create its shells.

Liquid magical energy, which was already being mass-produced and successfully canned, was the primary experimental subject Harvey had chosen.

After all, liquid magical energy sealed in an enchanted iron can was different from a solid-cast iron cannonball. It was impossible to extrapolate the cannon’s caliber from the shell’s weight. Harvey had to abandon the conventional knowledge from his past life and instead test the energy and destructive effects of its explosion to determine the most suitable launcher model.

The test site was set up outside the territory’s walls in a mountain hollow that had been cleared out in advance. It was surrounded by large, hard rock formations that served as cover, largely ensuring the safety of the experiment.

When Harvey arrived with a few of his personal guards and some Northern Army officers, Chris and a group of alchemy apprentices had already made the preliminary preparations.

A cylindrical magical energy canister, about the size of a rugby ball, was placed in the center of an open space. Metal plates of the same thickness were set up at one-meter, five-meter, and ten-meter intervals around it. Small wild animals, captured beforehand, were tied behind the plates.

Detonating the liquid magical energy in the can couldn’t be done with a simple fuse. Instead, a long, thin, mana-conductive metal hose was connected to it, allowing a Spellcaster to channel their magical energy into it from a distance, triggering the explosion through energy conduction.

The principle was very simple: as soon as pure liquid magical energy came into contact and mixed with any other mana containing elemental or variant energy properties, it would instantly lose its stability and transform into a violent torrent of energy beams, erupting from the enchanted canister.

This was a unique phenomenon Harvey had discovered long ago while studying beetle ore, and it was now the perfect detonation mechanism for the magical energy.

Chris volunteered to be in charge of detonation—Alchemists were also Spellcasters, and he had studied fire-elemental magic since he was young to assist with his alchemical studies and experiments.

The conductive hose extended for nearly one hundred and fifty meters. After repeatedly estimating the distance, Harvey ordered Chris to begin channeling his elemental mana.

Following the Lord’s instructions, everyone crouched down behind metal protective plates that were two fingers thick, quietly awaiting the effect of the distant magical energy explosion.

Vaughn and Dav had also been called to witness this weapons test, but they looked on with some indifference at the setup.

From such a distance, even a direct shot from a Magical Energy Gun was unlikely to pierce through the multiple layers of thick metal plates. The Lord was being overly cautious; it was completely unnecessary.

It was early winter, and the dirt ground was freezing. The two half-orc officers were dressed only in their thin standard-issue army uniforms and could feel the encroaching chill through their cotton clothes. Vaughn subconsciously shifted his body, intending to activate his bloodline power to speed up his circulation and generate some warmth.

Suddenly, he heard the grating sound of tearing metal from the distance, followed moments later by a shattered piece of a metal plate whistling over his head. It flew in a parabola and plunged straight into the dirt behind him.

Two other Defense Force officers were crouching beside them. The plate in front of them was struck by an equally sharp piece of metal shrapnel, letting out a loud clang.

“Alright, you can stand down. Everyone up,” the Lord’s voice came from nearby. Everyone stood up and walked out from behind their cover.

When Harvey led the group to the center of the explosion, they discovered that the place looked as if it had been bombarded by some sort of cluster spell. The scene was one of complete devastation.

Only short stumps of the nearest metal plates remained in the ground; the rest had been blown to pieces and scattered everywhere. The plates at a distance of five meters were in slightly better condition, but they were riddled with holes pierced by the violent energy beams.

Only the metal plates ten meters away showed no signs of shattering, but they had been blasted out of the ground by the force of the impact, landing about ten meters farther away.

All the small animals tied behind the plates were dead. They were either blown to smithereens, their bodies nowhere to be found, or had been killed by the shockwave through the metal plates, presenting a gruesome sight, bleeding from every orifice on their heads.

Harvey looked at the scene before him with satisfaction. It seemed his cannon project could proceed smoothly.

Chapter 279: The Magical-Powered Cannon

Three days later, at the magical munitions factory next to the Lord’s Castle.

In the center of a spacious workshop lay two thick cannon barrels, both pitch-black and covered in countless tiny, engraved symbols and inscriptions.

Based on the previous explosion tests of the “Magical Energy Beam Explosive,” Harvey had Chris conduct dozens of repeated trials. He had finally found a suitable explosive yield and used it to calculate the precise caliber for the cannons.

The liquid magical energy sealed in the enchanted iron canisters would only become volatile when injected with a chaotic mix of different types of mana. Drawing on his knowledge of artillery shell design from his past life, Harvey had Chris create a structure that used a firing pin. When struck, it would cause a low-grade elemental magic stone to fall into the liquid magical energy canister, detonating the magical energy shell.

This design was also perfect for achieving a direct firing range of over five hundred meters, ensuring the shell would explode at the exact moment of impact with the ground, inflicting maximum casualties on enemy ground targets.

As for the maximum range and targeting for high-angle fire, that would require a precise firing table to be developed through repeated test shots after the cannons and shells were fully assembled. For now, there was no need to worry about it.

Considering Frigid Black Iron was lightweight and had relatively good metallic ductility, Harvey, in a moment of inspiration during the initial design phase, simply decided on a barrel length of one-point-six meters. He had Chris and the skilled workers from the Foundry create two trial barrels to see how they would turn out.

Harvey recalled from his past life that medieval flintlock cannons were made by filling a wooden core and wrapping it with curved iron plates. The entire barrel was then reinforced with welded iron hoops. Finally, the wood inside the bore was burned away, leaving a hollow, composite barrel. The process was much like making an iron-hooped wooden barrel, but the seams had to be fused as much as possible with iron powder and iron strips. Yet, the risk of the barrel exploding could never be completely eliminated, leading to an extremely high failure rate during use.

Fortunately, the Alchemists of this magical world had mastered integral metal casting hundreds of years ago. They simply needed to cast a heavy, solid iron pillar and then use an alchemical solution with metal-corroding properties to eat away at the center, resulting in a seamless, hollow cannon barrel.

In this regard, Harvey couldn’t help but admire these magical scientists with their extraordinary powers. They had managed to precisely manufacture the perfect prototype of the cannon he envisioned, based solely on his simple design sketches and rough verbal explanations. Harvey personally measured the inner diameter of the barrel with iron calipers and found the wall thickness to be exceptionally uniform, completely free of the unevenness and pitting he had expected.

Finally, the skilled workers meticulously polished the exterior of the barrels, making it easier for Chris to subsequently engrave the magical inscriptions.

Looking at the two deep black cannon barrels before him, covered in strange runic patterns and exuding a heavy, unassuming aura, Harvey was very satisfied.

…

Soon, they arrived at the test firing grounds outside the territory’s walls. The first snow of early winter had begun to drift down sporadically from the sky.

The sleet of early winter made the dirt roads outside the city exceptionally slick and muddy. But Frigid Black Iron was lighter than ordinary refined iron, so a single alchemical camel-beast could easily pull the cannons to the wooded hollow without much effort.

Transporting the magical energy shells required much more caution. To prevent accidental detonations from collisions or drops during transit, which could cause the entire crate of shells to sympathetically detonate on the spot, Harvey had Chris design a separate safety mechanism for the shells.

The principle behind the safety mechanism was actually very simple. It used an insertable pin that passed through the canister shell from the outside, securely locking the firing pin in place. As long as the pin wasn’t pulled out of the shell with a specialized pair of pliers, you could pick up the shell and drop it right on the ground without causing an accidental explosion.

Vaughn, Dav, and the other officers of the Territorial Army were once again summoned to observe the weapons test. They had grown somewhat accustomed to the novel contraptions the Lord would periodically whip up. Dressed in their thick, winter training uniforms, they stood in formation to one side, hands tucked in their sleeves, whispering among themselves.

“What new gadget has the Lord come up with this time?” Dav nudged Vaughn, who was standing as straight as a spear, with his elbow. “Looks like a big iron pillar, doesn’t it?”

Tommy, the “Quick-witted one,” who had vaguely heard rumors about the new weapon, stated with conviction, “What big iron pillar? This is a super Magical Energy Gun! It takes two Bloodline Warriors to carry and fire it. One shot can blast one of the Demons’ mountain-sized mount beasts to smithereens.”

“Huh?” Vaughn couldn’t help but let his jaw drop in astonishment. “So in the future, we’ll have to carry this big iron pillar… this massive Magical Energy Gun in battle? Isn’t that way too heavy?” he asked, dumbfounded.

Dav chuckled and rubbed his hands together, saying expectantly, “Heh, I’ll go ask the Lord for permission to try it later. See if I can carry it by myself. I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”

The daily training for Bloodline Warriors often involved long-distance drills around the territory while carrying hundred-catty tree trunks. Those who had awakened the “Great Strength” talent could even carry a trunk of over a hundred catties on each shoulder and still run at the head of the formation.

Their discussion grew a little louder and immediately attracted the attention of Pierce, who was standing beside Harvey. He turned his head and scolded them with a stern face, “Blockheads! Shut your mouths and watch. This is the Magical-Powered Cannon designed by my lord Harvey. Its power is countless times greater than those straw-like Magical Energy Guns you carry.”

Hearing this, Harvey shook his head with a smile. In a sense, the Magical-Powered Cannon and the Magical Energy Gun operated on similar principles. It wouldn’t be wrong to call it a scaled-up, super Magical Energy Gun.

Drawing on his experience from playing medieval war games, he had designed a wheeled metal gun carriage for the cannon. This made it convenient to transport and could be quickly secured for firing. Since the magical cannon had absolutely no recoil to speak of, there was no need to consider complex recoil absorption mechanisms.

Chris was also in full charge of the test firing, though he needed Pierce to assist him.

Harvey, based on his memories from his past life and the characteristics of the Magical-Powered Cannon, had specially compiled a modified operational and firing procedure. He had the two of them familiarize themselves with it beforehand, and now was the perfect time to see the results.

Full of excitement, Chris uncovered the waterproof oilcloth covering the cannon. He then pulled a long swab from a slot underneath the gun carriage and, with a wide grin, shoved it into the muzzle. In truth, ammunition made from liquid magical energy, unlike gunpowder, left no residue in the barrel. Harvey had stubbornly included this step purely to satisfy his own unique sense of ritual and commemoration for the long-range weapons that had changed the course of warfare in his past life.

Chris pumped it vigorously a few times, then pulled the perfectly clean swab back out. Harvey’s satisfying memorial ceremony was finally complete.

Pierce then turned around and addressed the lined-up officers of the Territorial Army, “Did you all see that? Memorize the procedure. No slacking off.”

Everyone stared wide-eyed at their actions, subconsciously nodding like chickens pecking at grain.

Next, Chris took a cylindrical canister shell from a box at the rear of the carriage. He slid it into the slightly raised muzzle, and with a soft thud, the shell dropped to the bottom of the bore. Pierce immediately walked to the back of the cannon, opened a small, covered port at the breech, and inserted a pair of hooked pliers. He caught the safety pin on the shell, gave it a gentle twist, and pulled it out.

He then closed the port cover and nodded at Chris, indicating that the preliminary firing procedure was complete.

As a precaution, everyone retreated more than thirty meters away, standing behind a metal shield as tall as a man and as thick as two fingers, leaving only Chris and Pierce at their positions.

After receiving the signal to fire from Harvey, Chris forcefully pulled a metal lever at the rear of the cannon. The inscriptions engraved all over the barrel immediately began to glow softly.

A low hum followed…

A stream of air, thick with magical energy fluctuations, shot out of the muzzle at high speed. It whipped up the surrounding air and scattered snowflakes, forming a trajectory that vanished as fast as lightning. This magical cannon, built according to the design principles of a flintlock cannon, had a theoretical projectile range of over a thousand meters, but that distance would be halved with direct fire.

The trajectory of the magical shell instantly became impossible to track with the naked eye. However, a massive, composite iron plate placed five hundred meters away immediately erupted with a deafening crash of tearing metal. In an instant, it was blown to smithereens, kicking up a cloud of soil and debris.

Harvey led the group over to the target’s location. The iron plate, aside from a short section driven deep into the ground, had been completely shattered and sent flying. The furthest piece of metal was even embedded deep into the trunk of a tree and required considerable force to be pulled out.

The ground and trees in a radius of more than ten meters around the target were riddled with holes caused by the turbulent energy beams that had shot out, proving that the magical shell had unleashed its full energy impact upon detonation.

“Such… such terrifying power!” Vaughn muttered under his breath, his face a mask of disbelief. He approached a thick tree that had been riddled like a sieve and examined the holes that pierced clean through it. He could already imagine the spectacular scene when a single one of these shells landed in the middle of a charging enemy formation.

Chris, who had been involved in the entire process from manufacturing to firing the cannon, was especially excited. He directed his apprentices, who were busily recording various data. He himself walked over to Harvey’s side, ecstatic. “My lord, this is a creation of absolute genius! If we make the cannon’s caliber even larger and produce shells with a greater yield, we could probably face an ancient dragon head-on! I doubt even those divine creatures could withstand the power of a single shot from this!”

Harvey rolled his eyes speechlessly. It seemed all Alchemists who also studied fire elemental magic were fanatics for caliber and yield. They had only just started, and he was already fantasizing about using magical weapons against the ancient Dragon race.

But he wasn’t wrong. Although the cannon before them was a magically modified version of a long-range weapon, it still adhered to an absolutely classic theory—caliber is justice, range is truth, yield is dignity…

Chapter 280: Artillery Selection

Lynx had been on edge for the past few days. He couldn’t eat or sleep well, and he’d been making quite a few mistakes during daytime training, earning him several public reprimands from his direct superior.

As a squad leader in the Territory Defense Army, these were mistakes he shouldn’t be making. If this continued, he would probably be ordered to write a self-criticism report. Having only just completed his literacy education, writing such a report was nothing short of terrible mental and physical torture.

It was all because of a strange order issued by Military Command a week ago.

The Lord had decided to select a group of grassroots soldiers and junior officers with outstanding performance and abilities from the Defense Force and the Northern Army to form a special combat unit. After Lynx actively campaigned for the position, his battalion commander, who had always held him in high regard, put his name on the list of candidates.

But it had been two or three days since the list was submitted, and there was still no word back. This was making him restless.

On his day off, he met up with a few other squad leaders he knew at the Officers’ Club to quietly discuss the matter of recruiting for the new unit. As it happened, they ran into Iron Head, who had been transferred from the Northern Army to serve as the deputy leader of the Lord’s personal guard.

Although Iron Head was a half-orc officer, he had undergone the bloodline awakening ceremony personally granted by the Lord, becoming a powerful transcendent warrior with the “Ice Bloodline” talent. As a result, he was highly respected in the army, and no one dared to discriminate against him for his mixed heritage.

Although the Defense Force and the Northern Army had never quite seen eye to eye, Iron Head, a veteran of the Northern Army, had by a strange twist of fate become Lynx’s brother-in-law. His gentle and beautiful younger sister had fallen for the ugly half-orc officer after an accidental “brute saves the beauty” incident, forcing Lynx to grit his teeth and accept this baffling betrothal.

“Hey! My dear brother-in-law!” The ugly but warm-hearted half-orc, Iron Head, walked over with a glass of light beer. He casually squeezed in, making a spacious spot for himself, and sat down. “Why are you at the club so early? How about you come with me to pick up Daina from work later? We’re planning to go to the Public Market tonight to pick out things for the wedding. My darling Daina wants a lady’s silk hat imported from the south.”

The other squad leaders were trying so hard not to laugh that their faces started to twitch. Lynx gripped his beer glass tightly, not daring to lose his temper. Staring at the horrifying scars left by flames on one side of Iron Head’s face, he felt both intimidated and speechless. The burns on his face, from a fireball blasted by an enemy’s demonic beast-mount during a battle with the Demons, were both an ugly scar and a testament to his honor.

Of course, even if his face hadn’t been disfigured by accident, his original looks were far from handsome anyway.

Heaven help us! I hope my sister and this guy don’t have a daughter after they get married, or I’ll really be screaming for help…

Lynx sighed in resignation and explained in a low voice, “We’re here to privately discuss the Lord’s new unit. Do you know any inside information you can share? I haven’t heard back from Military Command, and I haven’t been able to sleep well these past few days.”

Iron Head gave a sly grin, wiggling his eyebrows. He snapped his fingers, and a crystalline snowflake materialized from his fingertip, dropping into his beer and instantly chilling the drink. Leaning his massive head closer to the group, he pursed his large, tusked mouth and whispered mysteriously, “The new unit… will be issued a new weapon personally developed by the Lord. It’s a hundred times more powerful than the Magical Energy Gun. That’s all I can say… Remember the confidentiality regulations!”

A new weapon more powerful than the Magical Energy Gun? Lynx was shocked and quickly pressed, “Is there any other news that isn’t covered by the confidentiality regulations? What are the selection requirements? What about the salary and benefits? Will Bloodline Warriors like you have a better chance of being selected? Do ordinary soldiers and officers like us still have a chance?”

The barrage of questions left Iron Head stunned for a moment. After chugging a few large gulps of light beer, he let out a burp and came to his senses. “The Lord said that for this new unit… Bloodline Warriors aren’t on the selection list. They’re only picking ordinary soldiers like you. Sigh… I really wanted to try out that powerful new weapon, too.”

Lynx glanced at his colleagues and saw a look of delight on their faces. Without these transcendent monsters competing for spots, their own chances of being selected had greatly increased. There was no way Military Command would be completely biased towards the Northern Army; they had to save some spots for the Defense Force.

At that, Lynx completely forgot about the unfortunate engagement and found his half-orc brother-in-law much more agreeable. He enthusiastically threw an arm around his shoulder, adopting the warm tone of an older brother-in-law, “You should spend more time with Daina on your days off. As a member of the Lord’s personal guard, you’re always busy with official duties and can rarely get away…”

His tone shifted, and he immediately lowered his voice again. “About that new weapon personally developed by the Lord…”

Before he could finish, the doors to the club were thrown open with a bang. A soldier from the Defense Force rushed in, clutching a stack of documents. He ran straight to their table and shouted joyfully, “Captain Lynx! Captain Thor! You’ve both been selected!”

…

Joining the newly formed Artillery Battalion certainly didn’t disappoint Lynx. Although he could no longer carry a Magical Energy Gun or wear the crisp uniform of the Defense Force, marching in formation from the Military Barracks through the streets of the Residential Area every day to the adoring and worshipful gazes of the residents, at least his salary had increased significantly. It jumped from 120 gold yuan a month to 160, nearly matching that of a battalion commander in the Defense Force.

The new weapon, named the “Magical-Powered Cannon,” was indeed incredibly powerful. Lynx felt that being chosen by the Lord to form this new unit and operate such a powerful weapon was also proof that his excellent performance had earned the Lord’s recognition.

It was just that the subsequent training was a bit too harsh and tedious.

Operating one Magical-Powered Cannon required a six-man crew: two to man the cannon and four to provide security. Because he had been a squad leader in the Defense Force, Lynx was directly appointed as a Group Leader for an artillery group.

Compared to the Magical Energy Gun, which could be fired simply by loading a bullet and pulling the trigger, this heavy beast was far more complex to operate. For nearly a month, they weren’t even allowed to touch a real cannon. Instead, they were forced to conduct simulation drills using a model cannon made from a thick tree trunk, repeating the same set of procedures day after day.

Driving the alchemical camel-beast to the designated firing position, securing the gun mount and raising the muzzle with the crank, checking the ammunition in the shell crate, cleaning the bore, loading a shell, releasing the safety pin with specialized tongs, using the sighting scale to confirm the impact point three times, and entering firing standby…

The entire operational drill had to be completed without the slightest negligence or error, executed with the skilled coordination of the two gunners and timed precisely, all within the allotted time. Any operational mistake or procedural error would immediately earn them a merciless reprimand from Commander Pierce, who led the training personally.

If they made more than three mistakes during the day’s training, they would suffer the humiliation of being publicly criticized in front of the entire battalion during the evening theory class, and would also have to submit a three-hundred-word self-criticism report before lights out.

This was the form of punishment Lynx feared most. As a result, he was exceptionally tense and focused during every day’s training. Even when he was asleep at night, he would mumble in his dreams: “Raise the muzzle! Check ammunition! Clean the bore! Load shell…”

He just didn’t know when he would finally get the chance to handle a real Magical-Powered Cannon and get a taste of firing a live round.

Chapter 281: Live-Fire Training

The live-fire training for the Magical-Powered Cannons, which everyone had been eagerly awaiting, was quickly arranged.

However, the training grounds were moved from the Military Barracks to a wide riverbank outside the newly built Garrison Corps fortress on the East bank of the Icefield River.

Standing on a gun carriage pulled by an alchemical camel-beast, Lynx followed the Artillery Battalion’s column as it slowly crossed the brand-new, spacious Icefield River Bridge. He could faintly see that on the fertile black soil of the newly developed land on the opposite bank, many large agricultural alchemical beasts were still busy plowing the fields.

It was a good thing that when the Garrison Corps was being formed, he hadn’t been selected despite signing up. His family was too small, not meeting the requirement for relocation to the east bank. But it turned out to be a blessing in disguise, giving him the opportunity to join the Artillery Battalion, which offered much better benefits.

Civilians on Bicycles frequently crossed the bridge in both directions. As the artillery column passed, they couldn’t help but stop and watch, curiously eying the four-wheeled gun carriages covered with waterproof tarps.

The six artillery groups were soon led to the edge of the riverbank. After a short wait, a massive, metal, sailless ship approached from the downstream docks—it was The Icebreaker, the steel vessel that traveled between the territory and the River Valley Outpost all day long. It was said to be magically powered, capable of sailing at high speeds on the thinly-frozen river without any need for sails.

The Icebreaker slowly passed by in front of them. The crew on board waved at them while tossing strange objects into the river.

“Chief, what are they doing? Isn’t The Icebreaker supposed to transport soldiers and supplies to the outpost? Why is it upstream casting nets today?”

Lynx, a refugee from the barren lands with exceptionally good eyesight, squinted into the distance for a moment before realizing they weren’t casting fishing nets. Instead, they were dropping giant red buoys into the river at regular intervals.

Commander Pierce spoke up at just the right moment, revealing the details of today’s live-fire training.

Their targets were the buoys now anchored and floating in the middle of the river. The artillery groups’ current position on the riverbank was just about eight hundred meters away from the center of the river.

This was a distance that could not be reached with direct fire. They would have to use high-angle fire to have any chance of hitting the targets.

“The Commander is testing our accuracy…” Lynx instantly understood the main purpose of today’s live-fire training.

The enemy wouldn’t stand still like these targets, waiting to be shelled. In a real battle, they had to learn to use firing angles flexibly, to land every precious magical energy shell accurately amidst dense enemy formations, striving for maximum killing effect. The magical energy shells were expensive, making every live-fire training opportunity extremely valuable.

Every member of the artillery groups had practiced the procedure of setting up the gun position and loading the shells to the point of perfection, where they could almost do it with their eyes closed without making a mistake. So, Commander Pierce quickly called on Lynx’s first group to take the first test shot.

Lynx skillfully took out the sighting scale and inserted it into the cannon barrel’s rear sight. He squinted with one eye, looking through the sighting aperture on the scale. His hands moved quickly, turning the crank on the gun mount to adjust the cannon’s angle until the red buoy in the middle of the river was perfectly centered in the aperture.

He felt his palms grow slick with sweat, his grip on the crank slipping slightly. He quickly and discreetly wiped his hand on his uniform, then looked at the other members of his group and nodded to show he was ready.

“Shell loaded!”

“Aim ready!”

“Safety off!”

“Ready to fire!”

At the Commander’s command, Lynx forcefully pulled the cannon’s firing lever.

A deep hum suddenly erupted…

A searing stream of hot air shot out from the muzzle. The shell flew toward the river like a bolt of lightning, its trajectory too fast for the naked eye to follow.

With a loud boom, a plume of water two or three meters high erupted to the left of the red buoy. From a distance, it looked as if the river’s surface had suddenly begun to boil. Then, the pointed top of the buoy abruptly vanished, as if sliced clean off by something.

Commander Pierce’s eyesight was several times better than that of an ordinary soldier. He announced the final result of the live-fire test in a cold voice: “Impact point error, three meters. The shell’s Energy beam grazed the target. Training evaluation… failed!”

After that, each group took its turn, completing a round of firing practice. Only one group managed to get a passing grade by a fluke, and even they didn’t hit the buoy directly. Instead, their shell landed within a meter of it, and the sheer force of the energy blast launched it from the water’s surface, shattering it to bits.

When it was Lynx’s group’s turn again, the two alchemy apprentices accompanying the team came forward and gave them a new set of sighting scales. Lynx took one and examined it closely, noticing that many new markings for half-values had been added between the original whole-number increments on the scale.

What was originally 500... 600... 700... had become 550... 600... 650.

Although he didn’t understand why, he knew he couldn’t go wrong by following the Commander’s orders. When Commander Pierce called out, “Firing angle 850!” Lynx quickly turned the cannon’s elevation crank, recentering the red buoy in the designated sighting aperture.

Another shot was fired. This time, it hit the red buoy bobbing in the river dead on, instantly obliterating it, leaving not even large fragments behind.

Another round of firing practice followed. This time, all but one unlucky group received a passing evaluation.

Lynx gradually figured out the principle of aiming and hitting the target—the higher the muzzle’s angle, the farther the shot would travel, and the smaller the intervals on the sighting scale, the higher the chance of adjusting for an accurate hit.

Looking down at the ammunition box at his feet, which held twelve magical energy shells, he saw two empty slots from the shots they had just fired. Lynx felt both excited and pained.

He had once overheard a logistics officer delivering the ammunition complain in private that manufacturing a single one of these magical energy shells consumed enough liquid magical energy to power an off-road Magic Motorcycle at high speed for half a day. If converted to gold yuan, the value would probably be well over one thousand gold yuan.

This meant that every shot their group fired consumed the equivalent of more than half a year of his salary. The thought made Lynx feel as if he were walking on thin ice.

…

Sitting in his study, Harvey looked at the live-fire training report Pierce had delivered and couldn’t help but let out a soft, pained sigh.

One training session had consumed twenty-four magical energy shells. The munitions factory and the Alchemy Laboratory had been working overtime these past few days, but they had produced fewer than three hundred shells in total. A few more training sessions like this, and their ammunition reserves would be critically low.

The hundreds of boxes of Frigid Black Iron sent by the Federation had only been enough to cast twenty Magical-Powered Cannons. The process of integral casting, followed by using an alchemical potion to dissolve out a one-piece barrel, inherently wasted a large amount of material.

“Developing a munitions industry really is the most expensive business in the world…”

For Harvey and the pioneer territories, the goal of achieving the terrifying wartime effect of clearing the field with a magical artillery barrage was still a long way off.

Chapter 282: Harvey’s Three Great Sins

More than half a month later, the Federation sent the second payment for the rescue mission. This time, they finally didn’t try to pay with a random assortment of magical materials, but with ten full chests of neatly stacked Oland gold coins.

The human nations, Dwarves, and Elves of the Southern Continent all had different monetary systems. The seven wizard kingdoms and the dozen or so secular kingdoms, led by the Humans, each had several types of officially minted currency.

But in terms of circulation and value, the most respected currencies were those of Oland, the strongest of the seven wizard kingdoms, and Isengard, a secular kingdom with rich gold reserves.

This meant that a one-pound gold coin from Oland was nearly equivalent in value to a one-pound gold coin from Isengard. Both could be freely circulated throughout the Southern Continent and enjoyed the highest acceptance.

However, gold pounds from other nations would have a certain conversion fee deducted during exchange and couldn’t be traded at a one-to-one ratio. The legal tender from some smaller vassal earldoms and duchies was not even accepted at all by many large merchant guilds and banks in the south.

Harvey was very pleased with the Federation’s generosity. He had made an exorbitant demand for a rescue fee of one hundred thousand pounds and had expected the Federation to haggle or try to fob him off with some substandard materials and supplies. He hadn’t anticipated that the second payment would be thirty thousand pounds in solid gold coin.

He had already earned about thirty thousand pounds from the vaccine deal with the Federation. This time, the Magic Net rescue mission was practically a no-cost venture for him; the energy-gathering arrays and materials had only cost a little over ten thousand pounds. This meant he could expect to receive nearly ninety thousand pounds in pure profit later on.

This immediately revitalized the City Hall’s once-strained finances, bringing them back from the brink. The change was so profound that even Rainer’s voice carried a cheerful tone when he reported his work.

But the joy of this windfall didn’t last more than half a day. Two pieces of news from the south, delivered by Astaren, filled Harvey with a fresh wave of anger.

“My lord, those minor nobles we temporarily detained in Jackdaw Town and restricted freedom of movement during the plague prevention efforts have jointly filed a complaint. They’ve sent it to both Earl Fegan in Grizzly Keep and the Royal Court in Goldshine City… that is, to His Grace, the Grand Duke of St. Valen.”

Harvey was bewildered. “Weren’t they only held for two days before we let them leave the town and return to their own fiefs and Grizzly Keep? It’s not like I locked them up and threw away the key…”

He actually knew full well what pathetic scheme these minor nobles were playing. During the plague outbreak, Harvey had provided free anti-plague potions to the masses but had charged these nobles a hefty treatment fee—a full five hundred gold pounds per injection. The greedy fools surely held a grudge because of it.

But the plague potion was Harvey’s creation; he could sell it for whatever price he wished, and no one could fault him for it. So these minor nobles had banded together and accused Harvey on different grounds—unilaterally dispatching troops into Jackdaw Town, a family territory of Earl Fegan, without the permission of the Grand Duke or the local lord. This was an illegal act that seriously infringed upon a lord’s fiefdom rights.

“So what? Earl Fegan locked down Grizzly Keep during the outbreak, turning a blind eye to the life and death of his own residents. Now he’s rounding up a group of petty nobles to try and bite back at me. Does he think the beating he took from me before wasn’t hard enough?”

The Church personnel in the town had already been expelled by Harvey and sent back to Grizzly Keep. After helping Harvey control the spread of the plague, the Federation’s local branch had secretly withdrawn in batches to the relative safety of Da’ers.

Jackdaw Town was now effectively an ungoverned territory. Aside from the thousand or so permanent residents who refused to leave their homes, no nominal official governing body remained. The staff Harvey had stationed there, along with the two high-level casters from the Forum hidden in the shadows, had, in a sense, completely taken over the entire town.

These territory officials, who came from the barren lands as refugees, had no concept of a noble hierarchy or the deference owed to one’s betters. To facilitate subsequent plague prevention work and continue accepting refugees, they had requisitioned most of the holiday villas and mansions belonging to the town’s nobles and minor landlords, using them to house the newly arrived southern refugees who were still recovering from the plague.

After all, it was already winter. Forcing them to live in tents at the reception centers in such cold weather would undoubtedly lead to people freezing to death.

Some of the more pragmatic officials had even begun dismantling many of the empty wooden houses to supplement the fuel needed for winter heating. Their thinking was brutally simple: since no one was living in them, they might as well use the local materials for firewood.

As a result, in the eyes of other nobles, Harvey, the pioneer lord from the Northern Realm, was inevitably branded with “three great sins.”

First, invading the fief of a neighboring, higher-ranking lord with troops without permission.

Second, wantonly condoning his subordinates’ seizure of other nobles’ private property, causing irreparable financial loss.

Third, by the decree of the Grand Duke of St. Valen and the Radiant Church, all spellcasters in the country were to be expelled. This naturally included Harvey, a Mage Lord operating outside the kingdom’s borders under a Pioneer’s Decree.

Perhaps mindful of the major, inexplicable defeat he had suffered at Harvey’s hands—losing a considerable number of private soldiers and trusted knights—Earl Fegan did not take immediate action. Instead, he was slowly mustering his army in Grizzly Keep, seemingly waiting for powerful reinforcements from the Church before seeking an opportune moment to march on Harvey.

Astaren proposed coolly, “The two spellcasters stationed in Jackdaw Town have asked me to inquire if you wish for them to proceed directly to Grizzly Keep and deal with Earl Fegan and the instigating nobles covertly. To strike first and gain the upper hand.”

Harvey slowly shook his head, refusing. “No need. When the Federation branch in Grizzly Keep was secretly evacuating, they were ambushed by the Church’s Army of Judgment and Priests from the city and were nearly wiped out. This indicates that Earl Fegan must have high-level combatants from the Church under his command. There’s absolutely no need for us to take such a risk.”

Besides, the Church and the nobility currently held the high ground in public opinion. If spellcasters were to launch a rash attack against them, they would likely be branded as the aggressors who started the war. Harvey had no desire to be saddled with the infamy of being the one to reignite a civil war between spellcasters and the Church.

“Deploy two five hundred-man battalions of the Northern Army and the Artillery Battalion to Jackdaw Town. Have them secure the main roads and the riverbanks leading into town. This time, we’ll wait at our ease for the enemy to exhaust themselves. Let that bunch of fools led by Earl Fegan walk right into our trap.”

In addition to this, Harvey had his personal guard bring him a pen and paper. He personally wrote a reply to Earl Fegan, a letter dripping with sarcasm and mockery. He refuted the baseless accusations against him word by word, the entire text conveying a single, consistent theme—

Don’t like it? Then come and fight me!

Chapter 283: The Shadow Over Grizzly Keep

“Damn that Harvey, that damn evil wizard! A Necromancer with nowhere to go, forced to hide in the Northern Barren Lands just to survive! How dare he provoke and mock me, a landed earl! He deserves to die a thousand deaths!”

Earl Fegan crumpled the letter in his hand, threw it viciously to the floor, and, still not satisfied, spat on it. Only then did he feel a little better.

He took a warm towel from a servant to wipe his forehead, but the memory of his nephew, who had died a mysterious death at Harvey’s hands over a year ago, came rushing back. New grudges and old hatreds swelled in his heart, and he seethed with rage.

So you think you can establish a foothold just because the vile orcs didn’t eat you down to the bone after you fled to the Northern Barren Lands? The Federation’s influence that once loomed over the nobility in St. Valen has been completely purged, and His Highness the Grand Duke has publicly sided with the Church. Let’s see how long you can gloat!

If Harvey weren’t a Mage Lord who wielded the power of a Spellcaster, and if defeating him didn’t require waiting for powerful reinforcements from the Church’s Judgment Army in Goldshine City, Earl Fegan would have immediately led his already-assembled army straight to Jackdaw Town, tied that low-born, silver-tongued wizard to a stake, and given him a real taste of suffering.

Besides, the Church reinforcements from the capital would also bring a decree from His Highness the Grand Duke: “Strip Harvey Floyd of his title as lord of the pioneer territories and, for the crimes of spreading plague and harming the people, sentence this Necromancer to the ultimate penalty.”

Appended to the end of the decree was a clause that made Earl Fegan ecstatic: Harvey’s pioneer territory in the Northern Realm would be temporarily placed under the management of Earl Fegan of Grizzly Keep, pending the appointment of a new noble from the capital.

That was a pioneer territory in the Northern Barren Lands. Never mind the harsh environment and frigid climate; just the vile orcs who raided south every winter were more than the average lord could handle. What noble from the capital would want to be the unlucky fool who rushes off to suffer there? A single misstep could cost them their life.

This meant that his temporary authority as the lord of the neighboring fief would be extended indefinitely. Harvey’s pioneer territory, which he had managed for nearly three years, would effectively fall into the Fegan family’s hands.

In truth, Earl Fegan had no interest in the desolate lands north of the Spine of the Continent Mountains. He had simply been convinced from the very beginning that this Mage Lord, who had risen from nothing in just two or three years and built up his pioneer territory, must have discovered a treasure that brought him immense wealth in that godforsaken land—either a large gold mine or, perhaps, an even more valuable magic stone deposit.

There was no other way to explain how this low-rank Necromancer, a commoner who had started with nothing, could have amassed such a fortune, allowing him to continuously transport massive amounts of food and supplies to his barren lands for years through the Southern Continent’s largest merchant guild, the Dragonstone Merchant Guild.

No matter how mysterious and powerful a Spellcaster’s abilities were, no one had ever heard of anyone possessing the divine power to turn stone into gold.

Just then, his secretary pushed the door open, entered, and bowed to Earl Fegan. “My Lord Earl, Baron Ross, the representative of the vassal nobles, is requesting an audience.”

Once permission was granted, Baron Ross, a short, fat man with a fleshy face, walked heavily into the earl’s study, a sycophantic, fawning smile on his face. “My Lord Earl, the vassal nobles are all waiting anxiously. We were wondering when you plan to dispatch your troops to Jackdaw Town to seek justice for us from that evil Mage Lord…”

He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his greasy forehead, his voice laced with anger. “Not only did that Mage Lord detain us in Jackdaw Town and restrict our freedom some time ago, but after we left, he seized our property in the town! That damn scoundrel! My vacation villa, the one made of maple and fir—those commoners tore down more than half of it for firewood!”

Baron Ross took a stack of papers from his coat and placed it before Earl Fegan with a smile. “My lord, take a look. These are our estimated losses for the houses and property. The total comes to over six thousand, eight hundred gold pounds.”

Six thousand, eight hundred gold pounds? The nobles’ vacation homes in a small town like Jackdaw Town were occupied and dismantled, and that resulted in such a colossal loss? Were their houses built of solid gold?

These shameless bastards probably just added a zero to the end of their bills, didn’t they?

Earl Fegan glanced sideways at Baron Ross, with no intention of picking up the accounts to look them over.

“My army is already assembled, and the reinforcements from the capital will arrive at Grizzly Keep in a few days… but what about you? Do you think you can make me fight to reclaim your losses and get your justice with words alone?” Earl Fegan rapped his knuckles on the desk, making a dissatisfied thumping sound.

“The summons was sent to your fiefs three days ago. How many knights and militia do you plan to send to march with me?”

Baron Ross’s heart skipped a beat. He knew the earl wouldn’t suffer a loss on this matter or let a group of vassal nobles like them get away with anything. His face flushed red as he hurriedly said, “My Lord Earl, we will of course answer your summons. Not just myself, but the other nobles have already gathered their men in their respective fiefs, ready to advance on Jackdaw Town with your grand army at a moment’s notice.”

Then he added cautiously, “But I’ve heard that the Mage Lord has many squires under his command, and that he himself is a powerful Spellcaster. Your nephew, Baron Stevie… it seems he…”

Before he could finish, Earl Fegan snapped, his voice laced with shame and anger, “Baron Stevie died because of a shameless sneak attack! He was ambushed when his guard was down! The Grand Duke’s decree is very clear: he must pay with his life for attacking and killing a nobleman without cause. When I tie him to the stake, I will wash away the humiliation of Stevie’s defeat and death!”

…

After dressing down the trembling Baron Ross and sending him away, Earl Fegan rose and began to pace anxiously around his study.

His advisor, Anher, who had been standing silently by his side the entire time, chose this moment to offer some consolation. “My Lord, there is no need to worry. The capital has dispatched a full one hundred soldiers from the Church’s Judgment Army to support us, including several high-ranking Chief Inquisitors and battle priests. Even if that… Mage Lord receives secret reinforcements from the Federation, we will not be at a disadvantage.”

The gray-haired old man, Anher, was also a Spellcaster. But as he hailed from an ancient and storied noble family in Da’ers and St. Valen, he held the dual identities of Spellcaster and nobleman, which naturally excluded him from the purge of Federation forces. Furthermore, his family had always favored secular royal authority and the Church, having no dealings with the Federation’s Spellcaster faction.

Earl Fegan nodded in agreement. He made a quick mental calculation. His two hundred elite knights, with their squires and horses, plus the five hundred militia he could temporarily conscript, all equipped with simple weapons, would form an army of about a thousand men. This would be the main fighting force for the expedition.

The Church’s reinforcements from the capital would naturally take the lead in dealing with the Mage Lord and any Federation Spellcasters who might be hiding in the shadows to support him. That was one thing he didn’t need to worry about too much.

As for those vassal nobles who loved money more than their own lives and could only see the petty interests before them, aside from the few family knights they maintained on their fiefs, the rest of their ragtag mobs would likely serve only to swell the ranks and wave banners.

According to the nobles who had returned from Jackdaw Town, the force Harvey had initially sent to take control of the town numbered no more than five hundred men. Moreover, there were no proper, armored knights among them. All the soldiers wore thin cotton clothes; they couldn’t even scrape together a single set of leather armor.

Hmph! So what if he’s a Spellcaster? Before the mighty allied army of the Church and myself, he’s nothing more than a pathetic insect about to be crushed by a war chariot.

Chapter 284: They Made the First Move!

After winter arrived, the Northern Barren Lands had already been blanketed by several heavy snows. The sun would often emerge after the snow stopped, and though its light was glaring, it offered no warmth. However, the air grew much fresher than usual, which considerably brightened Harvey’s mood as he went about his daily work.

Pushing open a window in the castle, he could smell the faint floral scent drifting from the garden. It was the fragrance of the winterfrost flowers that Egnor had specially transplanted to the Lord’s Castle. In the icy depths of the Northern Realm’s winter, these flowers were bursting into bloom.

Recently, Harvey had been paying particularly close attention to the situation at the River Valley Outpost. In that river valley, located at the northernmost edge of his territory, sporadic signs of vile orc activity had been discovered. Reconnaissance reports from the outpost indicated that only a few small-scale tribes had arrived in the vicinity so far, posing no significant threat yet.

The River Valley Forward Bastion dispatched several reconnaissance squads each week, repeatedly pushing across the river to scout the other side. In the process, they had wiped out several small tribes that had clearly just arrived and set up camp. They found that these tribes had fewer than one hundred members each, obviously not the main force of the southward raids.

“Tell the officers at the Forward Bastion not to underestimate the enemy and advance too rashly or too deep toward the Icefields. Our primary goal is still a defensive counter-attack, to wait at ease for an exhausted enemy. At the same time, we must also focus on receiving and rescuing the refugees from the barren lands fleeing from the north. Absorbing population is what’s most important. Don’t get fixated on a few vile orc heads and some battle merit!”

Harvey rapped his knuckles on the table, repeatedly reminding Pierce to curb his eagerness to personally lead troops to the River Valley Outpost. He also warned him not to forget the human nobles in the south, who were eyeing them covetously and could launch an attack on the territory at any moment.

Astaren, whose personality was noticeably more calm and prudent than Pierce’s, voiced his concern. “If Earl Fegan and the vile orcs attack us simultaneously, will fighting on two fronts put us at a disadvantage…”

Harvey chuckled. “Are you worried about our army’s combat strength?”

The chief advisor shook his head and explained, “Our combat strength is beyond question. I’m worried about the army’s morale. They’ve never faced a situation where they were attacked from both front and rear. They might go into battle under immense psychological pressure.”

Hearing this, Pierce immediately puffed out his chest and responded, “My lord, there’s no need to worry about that at all. I can guarantee that the army’s morale will absolutely not be affected by the intensity of the conflict… In fact, I’d say that after more than half a year without a major campaign, nearly every officer and soldier in the Defense Force and the Northern Army is constantly craving and anticipating new missions and new enemies…”

Harvey cut in, finishing Pierce’s sentence with a smile. “It’s in a soldier’s nature to be warlike, especially when war and enemies can bring them substantial battle merit rewards and military honors. This is also why I insist on cultivating such a large standing professional army, completely separate from production.”

When the desire for glory and achievement was directly linked to tangible rewards of gold and silver, these professional soldiers, armed with overpowering weapons, were more than just a little stronger than the common peasant soldiers forcibly conscripted by nobles. They would be hungrier than the great bears and grey wolves that had hibernated all winter in the barren lands—a hunger for battle and for victory.

…

For the past half-month, the newly formed Artillery Battalion had officially begun joint training with the Northern Army and the Defense Force. This included everything from manning fixed defensive lines on the territory’s walls to coordinating with the Northern Army in field pursuits or ambushes.

Their primary hypothetical enemy for these exercises was the coalition of southern nobles led by Earl Fegan of Grizzly Keep. Harvey predicted that within half a month, Earl Fegan would secure reinforcements from the Church in the capital, Goldshine City. At that point, he would be unable to resist launching an immediate attack on Jackdaw Town. The defensive line Harvey had long since established there could wait at ease for an exhausted enemy, using long-range artillery and a well-trained army equipped with magical firearms to swiftly rout him.

During this time, the two Forum Spellcasters stationed in Jackdaw Town would be monitoring the situation from the direction of Grizzly Keep. They only needed to use a flight spell to levitate high in the sky, giving them an unobstructed view of the enemy army’s movements.

After all, a large-scale march from Grizzly Keep to Jackdaw Town would take at least two days. Even if they abandoned their baggage train and regular militia, dispatching only elite knights and the Church’s Judgment Army for a rapid assault would still take the better part of a day. This meant the enemy would inevitably have to make camp in the wilderness, providing Harvey with a perfect target for a pinpoint artillery strike.

The ground forces could then encircle the enemy while they were being bombarded at night. Once the shelling ceased, they could launch a volley-fire assault and annihilate them right in their wilderness encampment.

The only problems that needed solving now were the combat accuracy of the Magical-Powered Cannons and the stockpile of shells.

The recent live-fire training and multi-branch coordination exercises had depleted most of the magical energy shells hurried into production by the munitions factory and the Alchemy Laboratory. If they couldn’t quickly produce a large enough ammunition reserve for twenty Magical-Powered Cannons to fire simultaneously and unleash a sustained barrage upon the enemy’s position, Harvey’s plan of engagement would be nothing but a plan on paper.

“Notify Rainer and Chris immediately. Suspend all other non-essential production projects and run the shell production lines at full capacity. Even if it means working in three shifts, we must ensure the ammunition supply chain keeps up. I want to see the munitions factory lit up at night.”

…

After the three of them finished discussing the impending war in the study, Pierce hastily excused himself and returned to the Military Barracks.

Only then did Astaren begin to discuss post-war development plans and objectives with Harvey. “My lord, after we defeat Earl Fegan’s noble coalition, what is our next step? Jackdaw Town is already under our de facto control. Should we station troops there long-term and bring its residents under the territory’s governance?”

Harvey had actually considered this question for a long time. Although Jackdaw Town seemed to be separated from the pioneer territories by only a single mountain, the actual distance was not short. Even with Magic Motorcycles and War Beast vehicles capable of quickly traversing the mountains, it would still take the better part of a day to get there—and that was just a one-way trip.

Although the small border town was, in a sense, the main transit hub for Harvey’s import-export trade with the southern merchant guilds and served as a forward bastion for monitoring the movements of nearby southern nobles and the Church, directly annexing it into his territory was not a good option.

Jackdaw Town possessed no high-value resources that interested Harvey, and its permanent population was pitifully small, consisting mostly of freeman farmers and hunters with small plots of barren land. It held very little appeal for him.

The best approach was still to leave it alone—neither allowing the southern nobles to interfere nor investing too much military strength and resources to disrupt the town’s existing structure.

Of course, if the townspeople chose to relocate and join his territory, Harvey would certainly turn no one away. The two things he lacked most right now were labor and money.

As he was chatting with Astaren, the Magic Brain device in the study suddenly began to beep. Astaren immediately stepped forward to check it.

“What’s happened? Is it a message from the Forum?” Harvey asked leisurely, taking a sip of his hot tea.

The chief advisor turned around, his tone grave and heavy. “My lord, Grand Duke St. Valen, in alliance with the Radiant Church, has officially declared war on the Federation of Casters!”

Chapter 285: Silent Thunder

The coalition of nobles led by Earl Fegan, the lord of Grizzly Keep, marched majestically down the road to Jackdaw Town.

At the forefront of the coalition army were Earl Fegan’s family knights and a squad from the Church’s Judgment Army, dispatched from Goldshine City. The differences in the strength of the lords they served were clear from the knights’ armor, weaponry, and steeds.

Without a doubt, the most well-equipped and imposing among them were Earl Fegan’s family knights. The steeds these knights rode were long-maned warhorses, a specialty from St. Valen’s capital, Goldshine City. With stable temperaments, large builds, and extremely powerful bursts of speed when sprinting, they were a classic warhorse breed, making the knights on their backs appear even more valiant and extraordinary.

Their brand-new, gleaming armor was paired with capes embroidered with exquisite family crests. A large, ferocious grizzly bear was embossed on the thick breastplates of their armor, seemingly roaring with an open mouth. A dark red, gold-threaded silk sash was tied around their waists, signifying that the knights came from established noble houses and had undergone professional trials.

Earl Fegan had a total of two hundred such elite knights under his command. This was an elite armed force that an earl’s family, with its own fiefdom, had spent generations cultivating and training. They were nothing like the showpiece knights raised by lesser vassal nobles. In previous years, every winter, they would travel to the border regions of Earl Fegan’s fiefdom to eliminate any vile orcs that occasionally crossed the Spine of the Continent Mountains to plunder the south, ensuring that the lord’s lands and property remained unharmed.

On this expedition, the Earl of Grizzly Keep had dispatched all of them, counting on this elite force from the St. Valen border to sweep away all enemies before them with unstoppable momentum, thereby upholding his authority as a lord and his family’s interests in the region.

The Church’s Judgment Army, clad in silver heavy armor and also marching silently on warhorses, were not to be underestimated either. Earl Fegan did not know how many extraordinary warriors with bloodline talents were hidden within this hundred-man Judgment Army squad, but he was certain that the Chief Inquisitor leading them—a tall, silent man with an exceptionally grim expression—was a powerful and battle-hardened high-rank.

Behind the knight phalanx was a force of over a thousand militia and mercenaries. Their equipment was clearly inferior and much cruder compared to the elite knights at the front. Only a few wore old, pieced-together chainmail, while the rest were all clad in the cheapest leather armor, which often had missing pieces. Their weaponry was also extremely varied: machetes, longspears, flails, and some had even come to fight bearing badly rusted iron swords.

At the very rear of the long marching column were the tenant farmers and freeman farmers forcibly conscripted by the various noble lords. they had to carry their own rations while driving and pulling donkey carts laden with food and war supplies, trudging through the snow-covered muddy road at an exceptionally slow pace. The lesser vassal nobles had to constantly send their knights riding back and forth to urge them onward with shouts and whips.

“Lord Earl, the army is about to reach Jackdaw Town.” The Church priest, Derick, who was on horseback, pulled his reins to slow his horse, gradually approaching Earl Fegan at the head of the column. “Should we enter the town to rest for the night and cross Raven Ridge tomorrow morning, or should we march over the mountain tonight and catch the enemy by surprise?”

Earl Fegan, a powerfully built man with a head of curly black hair, chuckled. “Marching through the mountains at night would be to our disadvantage and would tire out the knights and soldiers. There’s no need to rush. We’ll spend the night in Jackdaw Town. I have no desire to sleep in a tent in this icy weather, only to wake up with the gaps in my armor frozen solid with frost.”

What he did not say aloud was that the most anticipated part of this war for the conscripted mercenaries was likely the chance to do a little plundering every time the army passed through a town. After all, they did not receive the generous stipends that the nobles’ house knights did.

Although Jackdaw Town was still nominally part of Earl Fegan’s fief, it provided no significant tax revenue. Moreover, according to the lesser nobles who had fled back, the town’s residents had been cozying up to the Mage Lord on the other side of the mountain and clearly had no respect for him, their true feudal lord. It was only right to teach them a small lesson.

“You said that Mage Lord has fewer than a thousand squires and private soldiers under his command. Is this intelligence absolutely reliable?” the high-ranking Chief Inquisitor, who had been silent until now, suddenly asked. “Then how has he managed to survive several winters in the Northern Barren Lands with such a small force? Have the vile orcs not been raiding south these past few years?”

Earl Fegan coughed awkwardly a couple of times and chuckled. “You’ve traveled a long way from Goldshine City, so you’re not familiar with the local situation. But I know those vile orcs inside and out. Along the hundreds of kilometers of mountains on Raven Ridge, there are countless valleys and passes they can use to disperse and head south. If he was lucky, his pioneer territory might not have encountered any large vile orc tribal armies at all.”

The Church priest nodded in agreement. “That’s right. And ever since the Demons’ offensive on the Evil Moon Mountain Range slowed, they seem to have diverted a large portion of their forces to attack the vile orcs’ tribal court deep in the Icefields. As a result, the orcs have had to send most of their main forces to deal with their old neighbors in the barren lands. The ones roaming near Raven Ridge are likely just ragtag mobs from small tribes.”

Hearing this, Earl Fegan’s smile became brimming with confidence. He reminded them in a slightly flattering tone: “But we can’t be completely careless. Although His Highness the Grand Duke and the Church have cleared out most of the Federation’s influence in the country, there are surely some who slipped through the net still secretly aiding this Mage Harvey in his territory. To deal with these wicked mages and their strange methods, we will naturally need you all to step forward…”

The cold and arrogant high-ranking Chief Inquisitor snorted at his words. Just as he was about to speak, a scout knight sent out by the Earl suddenly galloped back, charging right up to Earl Fegan to report: “Lord Earl, we’ve found the Mage Lord’s private soldiers gathered outside Jackdaw Town. They’ve also erected some temporary defensive works. Their force is estimated at over five hundred men.”

“Oh? They didn’t hole up in their pioneer territory in the Northern Barren Lands and wait for us to come to them, but chose to sally forth?” Earl Fegan raised an eyebrow and smiled contemptuously. “All the better. At least it saves us the trouble of crossing the mountains. I hope Mage Harvey himself is waiting for us in Jackdaw Town. That way, after I crush his vassals, I won’t have to hunt him down in the barren lands.”

“Tell all the knights to form up, slow their pace, and await the order to charge.”

The high-ranking Chief Inquisitor said flatly, “We will embed ourselves within the knights’ charging formation and remain on guard against any Federation Spellcasters who might be present. The battle priests will also secure the rear to prevent them from sending Spellcasters to disrupt our infantry and supply train.”

With that, the two of them led a squad of knight officers up a high slope from which they could see Jackdaw Town in the distance, and began observing the enemy forces gathered outside the town.

The first thing Earl Fegan noticed was that the enemy’s formation was very strange. Not a single one of them wore armor. Instead, everyone was dressed in the same dark black, heavy cotton clothing, with soft cotton caps of the same material on their heads. Their weapons, however, seemed quite thoroughly issued. They were all slung on their backs, with long shafts visible—likely some kind of spear or pike, seemingly designed specifically to counter a cavalry charge.

But the enemy soldiers were packed shoulder to shoulder in three or four dense rows. They had set up no anti-cavalry stakes, nor had they dug any trenches to trap horses. Did they really think they could withstand a charge from his fully equipped, heavy-armored knights with only a few sandbagged earth walls less than a meter high?

Such a flimsy line of defense could probably be shattered by a single coordinated charge without the knights even breaking a sweat.

Just as expected of a Spellcaster with no experience leading troops. Not a shred of common sense. To dare cross the mountains and present himself before me… truly treating war as a child’s game.

Normally, according to the principles of war between nobles, Earl Fegan, as the instigator of the conflict, should have first dispatched a page with a banner to the enemy lines to request an audience with the opposing noble lord. The page would then formally declare war on the Earl’s behalf and present a letter demanding surrender.

But this was merely a formality of noble etiquette. It was just as well that the opposing party was not of true noble birth; it saved Earl Fegan a good deal of superficial effort.

The coalition’s knights assembled rather slowly, with lesser nobles from the rear trickling in on horseback to sluggishly join the charging formation. Just as Earl Fegan, frowning, was about to summon his vassals for a scolding, he faintly heard a few low hums coming from the distant enemy position. He quickly turned his horse and straightened up to look, only to see dozens of incandescent white flashes of light flicker behind the enemy’s flimsy defensive line. Before he could react, a series of horrific screams from men and horses suddenly erupted in his ears.

The Church priest beside him immediately shouted a warning, “Watch out! There are a large number of Spellcasters in the enemy army! They… they’re using long-range clustered casting! Have the knights spread out and take cover…”

The knights of the Judgment Army, who possessed bloodline power, reacted swiftly. They each pulled on their reins, steering their horses into the forests on either side of the road and galloping stealthily toward the enemy position.

A large number of Spellcasters were unleashing magical attacks on his knight phalanx???

Could it be that the enemy had secretly hidden an elite Federation Mage Corps in their barren lands territory???

Earl Fegan’s mind was buzzing. “So many Spellcasters? How is this possible?”

Chapter 286: The Battle of Jackdaw Town

The coalition of nobles from Grizzly Keep was still several kilometers from Jackdaw Town when Pierce, in command of the army, received a warning from two high-level casters.

Standing on a high slope outside the town and observing with the monocular telescope issued to officers, his half-blood vampire’s superior vision allowed him to clearly see the enemy on the main road. There were more than three hundred fully armed, professional knights, and a group of what looked like a ragtag mob of militia and mercenaries, which he estimated at nearly a thousand strong.

Pierce lowered the telescope, the corners of his mouth curling into a subtle, cold smile. He turned to the Northern Army battalion commander, Vaughn, who was already itching for a fight, and ordered, “Pass the word. Have the soldiers get into a state of readiness and prepare to engage the enemy at any moment.”

“Commander, the Special Operations Squad has signaled they are in position. They’re just waiting for your order to launch the flanking assault…”

Pierce waved his hand dismissively. “Tell them not to be hasty,” he said in a low, steady voice. “According to the battle plan, they are to wait for my command after the artillery barrage begins.”

According to my lord Harvey’s original expectations, this noble coalition from Grizzly Keep should have made camp on the road for the night, walking right into their pre-arranged battlefield for the first combat scenario. Who would have thought Earl Fegan would be so impatient, preferring to undertake a grueling night march just to arrive at Jackdaw Town before nightfall, as if rushing to his death without a moment’s delay.

This forced Pierce to switch to the second combat scenario on the fly, staging a frontal interception of the enemy on Defense Line Two, which had been set up outside the town.

But that was fine. He certainly preferred it when a juicy prize grew legs and delivered itself to his doorstep over having to go out and hunt it down himself.

This was the first time Lynx had ever seen human knights from the south. To be honest, compared to the vile orc knights of the barren lands, who rode Camel-oxen and Stiff-bristled Wild Boars, screaming and charging recklessly, these men in gleaming armor on tall warhorses were much easier on the eyes.

The battalion commander said that each of these southern knights was akin to an officer in the Territorial Army, with many squires and vassals following them into battle. Lynx and his comrades found this rather novel. In a fighting force of less than two thousand, there were three or four hundred knight-officers. The average number of soldiers each of them commanded was far too small to showcase any real leadership ability.

“It seems these knight-officers aren’t worth much in terms of combat merit… Definitely not as valuable as killing a vile orc chieftain in a golden crown,” Lynx remarked with a dismissive purse of his lips.

Though he felt a vague sense of disdain, when the several hundred elite knights began to slowly form up into neat square formations, Lynx still felt a slight sweat break out on his back. It was just like the first time he had been sent to the River Valley Outpost to face those狰狞 ugly vile orcs, only this time he was facing his own kind from the south.

It was the first time he had aimed his weapon at his own people. The thought that after the bombardment, these living, breathing men would be blown to bloody bits by the terrifying magical energy shells, just like the targets in their live-fire training, made Lynx feel somewhat uneasy.

In the artillery crew closest to Lynx, the group leader was also a refugee from the barren lands like himself. He had a somewhat comical name—Maidou. Seeing Lynx’s pale face, he took advantage of the commander being a short distance away observing the enemy to sidle up to him. He pointed at the enemy knights assembling in the distance, spat on the ground, and said viciously, “Don’t show these bastards a shred of pity. You know, back when my family and I were fleeing the vile orc slaughter, we escaped all the way from the barren lands to the southern border. We didn’t steal or rob, we just wanted to live… Hmph, and what happened? These damn noble lords blocked us at the border. My poor younger brother had his heel sliced off by a knight on a big horse, just so they could laugh at him trying to run away while limping… And my mother, they trampled her to death with their horses while driving us away…”

Lynx looked at the twisted scar that ran across Maidou’s entire face, recognizing it as the mark left by a blade like a longsword. A fire of rage boiled within him, and a searing heat seemed to rise from his chest into his throat.

Before the army set out, the Lord’s pre-battle address had made it crystal clear. These shameless, greedy southern nobles wanted to invade and plunder the paradise and home they had worked so hard to build in the barren lands. If they couldn’t be defeated at Jackdaw Town, these nobles and knights, who didn’t even consider them human, would pillage their way through, cross the towering Raven Ridge mountains, and descend upon the pioneer territories, enslaving all the residents who were finally settling down to live and work in peace.

Lynx couldn’t help but think of his sister, who was soon to be married. He thought of his commander, who had always valued him, smiling as he co-signed his home loan contract. He remembered the crisp, sweet taste of beer in the Officers’ Club, and the bustling, lively scene at the Public Market as soon as evening fell…

No! I will never allow it! I will never allow these despicable nobles to lay a finger on our home! We must fight for the Lord, for our home, and for ourselves and our families!

Suddenly, a bird-call whistle sounded in the sky. Lynx subconsciously looked up to see a figure in magnificent robes floating in the air to his upper left—it was one of the Spellcasters who served the Lord, guiding the Artillery Battalion’s aim!

The moment the bird-call whistle sounded, it meant the enemy had entered the one-thousand-meter effective range of the cannons. The six artillery crews positioned behind the infantry line immediately sprang into action, moving with skilled swiftness through the prescribed motions they had repeated countless times in drills.

Raise the muzzle toward the target, clear the bore, load the shell, release the safety pin, confirm the target with the sighting scale, enter firing standby…

“Shell loaded!”

“Aim set!”

“Safety off!”

“Ready to fire!”

The soldiers of the artillery crew, long accustomed to working in perfect coordination, called out the operational commands in low voices.

In less than five seconds, Lynx rapidly cranked the cannon’s lever, aligning the distant enemy within the aperture of the sighting scale.

He licked his dry lips and began to count down silently in his head, waiting for the commander to give the final order to fire.

One short whistle meant the target was in range. One long whistle meant the crews should prepare to fire…

And three short whistles followed by a long one was the command for a full volley from all crews!

The thought had barely crossed his mind when the long-awaited attack order came from above. He took a deep breath and, without a shred of hesitation, pulled the cannon’s firing lever.

“FIRE!!!”

Chapter 287: A Rout Like a Landslide

Earl Fegan simply couldn’t comprehend how the enemy had managed to hurl such a terrifyingly destructive spell into his army’s formation from a distance of over a thousand meters.

He had witnessed spellcasters cast magic on countless occasions. Whether it was a searing fireball the size of a human head or a sharp, frigid ice blade, the maximum effective range—from the moment the caster began chanting to the spell striking its target—was no more than two or three hundred meters.

A knightly charge, on the other hand, was limited by battlefield terrain and the stamina of the horses. They couldn’t reach top speed from the very beginning. An experienced army commander would typically order the horses to a light trot from a thousand meters out, gradually accelerating as they closed to about five hundred meters, before finally entering the hundred-meter high-speed charge phase.

Therefore, Earl Fegan believed that assembling his knightly formation over a thousand meters away was, in theory, an absolutely safe distance. Neither spellcasters hidden among the enemy soldiers nor ordinary bows and crossbows could threaten his knights. At the same time, it would give them ample time and distance to execute a proper cavalry charge.

Who could have possibly imagined that this incredibly inefficient assembly of his knightly formation would turn them into absolute sitting ducks for the artillery?

The six Magical-Powered Cannons let out a humming sound almost simultaneously as a scorching torrent of air propelled the magical energy shells out of the muzzles. The moment they left the bore, their speed was so great they became invisible to the naked eye. Then, in the span of a single breath, they exploded directly within the enemy knight formation a thousand meters away.

The moment the canned shells filled with liquid magical energy hit the ground, frenzied energy beams shot out from the iron canisters with an ear-piercing shriek. The handful of Earl Fegan’s heavy armored family knights closest to the impact point had no time to react. They, along with their horses, were riddled with holes, their armor and flesh pierced through. Their mounts were disemboweled on the spot, spilling steaming entrails all over the ground.

The sight of men and horses collapsing, combined with the flying shrapnel and dirt, spooked the mounts outside the blast radius. Many knights who had no idea what was happening were thrown from their saddles. More still shouted loudly, yanking on their reins in a desperate attempt to calm their agitated steeds.

As this was the first volley, a full half of the six magical energy shells missed their mark, landing in the dense forest on either side of the enemy formation. This angered Commander Pierce so much that he turned his head and shot a cold glare at the soldiers of the Artillery Battalion.

Lynx felt a chill run down his spine and immediately completed the process of reloading and aiming with the utmost speed. The second round of bombardment began.

Flesh and blood, even when encased in solid steel armor, was forced to reveal its fragility and softness under the merciless bombardment of the magical energy shells. Anyone within ten meters of a shell’s impact was almost certain to meet a gruesome end. Limbs blasted to pieces by the highly penetrative energy beams were scattered across the ground, and puffs of blood mist erupted into the air. All anyone could hear was a faint hissing sound, as if an invisible ghost was weaving through the formation, reaping lives at will.

As another wave of terrifying magical attacks rained down, Earl Fegan, in his panic, finally connected the bursts of white light from the distant enemy camp with the strange hissing in his own ranks and the inexplicable long-range assault.

This wasn’t some ultra-long-range group spell cast by a large number of spellcasters! It was some kind of unbelievable magical weapon!

Its range far exceeded that of magic or arrows, comparable only to the giant trebuchets used in siege warfare. Moreover, there seemed to be a delay between attacks; it couldn’t fire ceaselessly.

Realizing this, the Earl immediately ordered his knights to sound the horn for an attack. He couldn’t wait for his forces to form a neat square before charging. He had to close the distance as quickly as possible and render those magical trebuchets useless at long range.

As for how to deal with them afterward, that task would fall to the squad of Army of Judgment knights and Church priests who, having realized what was happening after the first attack, had already slipped into the forests on either side to flank the enemy. He was confident they would drag out the despicable spellcasters hiding in the distance and operating the magical weapons, and mercilessly deliver divine punishment.

But Earl Fegan had overestimated the discipline of his knights. When the horn for the attack sounded, only his own family knights obeyed the order. The knights belonging to the various vassal nobles remained in disarray, ignoring the command. Some heard the horn but were unable to urge their mounts forward, still wrestling with the agitated animals beneath them. Some couldn’t find the noble lord they served and rode their horses aimlessly in circles. A small minority, having witnessed the horrific carnage of the mysterious attack, actually turned their horses around and began to retreat.

Adding to the chaos were the mercenaries in the rear who, not understanding the situation, surged forward upon hearing the horn. For a moment, the entire scene was one of utter confusion.

…

Lynx stood on his toes and saw the distant enemy begin to advance slowly toward them. He immediately followed the Commander’s instructions, reloaded a shell, adjusted the firing angle, and cranked the cannon’s support to lower the muzzle.

Another short whistle, like a bird’s call, sounded in the sky… Through the aperture of the sighting scale, he could already clearly see the metallic glint of the knights’ armor reflecting the setting sun.

The third round of bombardment began.

After the deep hum subsided, the members of the artillery crew didn’t bother to observe the results. They immediately put their heads down and began repeating the firing procedure for another round.

They had no need to worry about accuracy. Countless experiences from live-fire training had taught them that at a distance of about five hundred meters, the direct fire accuracy of the Magical-Powered Cannon was nearly ninety-five percent. Missing was not a possibility.

In the six-man artillery crew, the four artillerymen responsible for spotting and security immediately unslung the Magical Energy Guns from their backs. They took the metal shield plates from the gun carriage, drove them into the earth, and knelt in a half-crouch behind the makeshift cover. They aimed their guns at the approaching enemy, providing cover for their two comrades operating the cannon.

This was merely a standard procedure from their daily training. In reality, there was rarely a need for them to be put to use, for in front of the Artillery Battalion’s position stood over five hundred battle-hardened soldiers of the Northern Army, long since champing at the bit with impatience.

The order for volley fire was given almost immediately to the soldiers crouched in the trenches. Beams of white light shot from the Magical Energy Guns, spraying towards the enemy like rain. The charging knights, having already accelerated, were instantly blanketed by this magical storm as they reached the three-hundred-meter mark. Men and horses alike burst into sprays of blood, falling in neat rows like wheat before a scythe.

The knights at the rear, who were lucky enough to escape the magical barrage, couldn’t slow their horses in time. They could only brace themselves and continue the charge. As they finally closed in on the enemy formation, a single thought consumed them all: as long as they could break through this weak defensive line of sandbags, the unarmored civilian soldiers behind it and their wicked magical weapons would be rendered useless.

For a galloping warhorse, a distance of three hundred meters could be covered in an instant. The knights, who had now roughly figured out the enemy’s attack methods, smartly lowered their bodies and desperately jabbed their horses’ flanks with the spurs on their heels, pushing their speed to the absolute maximum.

But this short distance, which should have taken no more than ten breaths to cross, somehow became an unreachable chasm. The volleys from the Magical Energy Guns, fired with almost no interval between them, completely shattered the fighting will of these elite knights.

Within the last hundred meters, the penetrating power of the Magical Energy Guns was unleashed to its fullest. Nearly every energy beam could pierce through two or three enemies charging one behind the other. The knight officer at the very front of the charge was riddled with so many holes that he and his horse were practically turned into sieves. He didn’t even make a sound as he and his mount crashed heavily to the ground.

The charging column of knights inevitably collapsed.

The fear of death and the awe-inspiring power of the wicked magical weapons made them disregard the lords they served. They reined their horses around, scattering in every direction, desperate to escape this domain that felt as if Death himself had descended upon it.

The tide of defeat completely engulfed the noble coalition army that Earl Fegan had painstakingly assembled. The mercenaries, who had only been there to plunder the battlefield, were even more fragile. Seeing the knights in front of them routed in an instant, they scattered like frightened birds and beasts, casting aside their helmets and armor and shouting as they fled into the forests on either side.

The situation quickly spiraled out of control. Crowds pushed and shoved, each person scrambling to escape. Anyone who was knocked to the ground was immediately trampled to death by horses, but no one had time to care for others. Fleeing backward or up the hillsides on either side were both good options; their only regret was not having two more legs to run faster.

But soon, they plunged into despair once more. From within the forests on both sides, large numbers of enemy soldiers in neat formations had appeared, seemingly out of thin air, right on their escape routes. They wore strangely colored clothing that blended in almost perfectly with their surroundings, and they fired freely and mercilessly at the collapsing deserters. Every time a fluorescent white light flashed from a muzzle, it silently reaped a living soul.

…

Two spellcasters had been using a flight spell to levitate high above the battlefield the entire time—they were Jin “Eye of Illusion” Gavin and Melissa “the Astrologer” Peña, who were stationed in Jackdaw Town. Their sharp eyes spotted an Army of Judgment squad attempting to circle around to the rear of the battlefield, and they immediately sent a warning to the Northern Army soldiers below.

The two then exchanged a glance, before each let out a cold sneer and dove toward that group of treacherous Church holy rollers.

On the ground, the Bloodline Warrior Special Operations Squad that received the warning reacted almost instantly. Following the direction of the high-level casters’ dive, they pounced with incredible speed toward the Church enemies who, like themselves, possessed transcendent power.

Next, it would be a life-or-death battle between transcendent beings.

Chapter 288: A Lightning-Fast Pursuit

If he hadn’t desperately clutched the Lord’s sleeve and begged, Durt never would have been allowed on the battlefield at Jackdaw Town.

At this moment, he couldn’t help but feel grateful for his shameless plea, which allowed him to witness a battle the likes of which he had never experienced in his entire life.

A charging formation of several hundred noble knights had been routed, scattering like headless chickens before they could even reach the sandbag fortifications of the pioneer territories’ army.

In the end, this group of elite knights never even managed to get within range of the defenders’ line. There was no bloody, brutal close-quarters combat, nor the one-sided slaughter of infantry by cavalry. There was only the trampled, messy field of mud before him, and the countless bodies of men and horses lying scattered about, most of them maimed and gore-covered, making the young caster, who had rarely experienced such brutal combat, feel a cold chill.

Six terrifying Magical-Powered Cannons had sent the enemy flying from seven or eight hundred meters away. Within the final three-hundred-meter charge distance, these noble knights, professionally trained and highly skilled since childhood, were pierced and shattered by the Magical Energy Guns like sheets of thin paper, utterly unable to resist.

Durt couldn’t help but recall his mentor’s stern teachings during his time at the academy—mid- and low-rank casters without the ability to fly should do their best to avoid being surrounded by mortal knights. If their long-range spells failed and the knights managed to charge close, a caster who had exhausted their mana would face a desperate, almost certainly fatal situation.

Yet the Lord’s soldiers, all commoners, had so easily cut down these elite knights with nothing but the Magical Energy Guns in their hands, as if they were dealing with scarecrows.

So much for the meticulously trained knights of the secular nobility…

The battle between the Bloodline Warriors and the Church’s Judgment Army was still raging in the woods to the side and rear, but Durt was no longer very worried about the outcome—he knew very well that those extraordinary warriors who always followed the Lord had almost all been issued the same magical energy weapons as these soldiers.

Moreover, two high-level casters serving the Lord were also participating in the battle—true high-rank battle mages.

As the setting sun gradually disappeared behind the towering Raven Ridge, the remaining soldiers on the main battlefield, aside from those pursuing the fleeing enemy, were assigned to clean up. They seemed accustomed to severed limbs and corpses, walking through the battlefield without any fear, chatting idly while collecting the knightly armor and fine weapons scattered on the ground. As they went, they also took care of the bodies of these poor wretches.

Durt personally saw a soldier, while stripping armor from a body, discover that the knight was not yet dead. Without a moment’s hesitation, he used the bayonet fixed to his Magical Energy Gun to pierce the man’s throat.

…

Earl Fegan still hadn’t come to his senses or figured out how he had been defeated.

His charging formation of knights had endured the bombardment of those magical catapults and had painstakingly approached the enemy’s weak-looking defensive line, but then they had suddenly fallen in droves. The rest had scattered in a panic, as if they had seen the Devil himself. No matter how he shouted and berated them from behind, he could not rally the valiant knights who had once sworn their undying loyalty to him.

The hastily conscripted mercenaries and militia had crumbled even more easily, thrown into chaos before they even understood what was happening. The longswords of the dozen or so personal guards at the Earl’s side were chipped and blunted from hacking a path, but they had barely managed to escort Earl Fegan from the chaotic battlefield, preventing their lord from being caught and harmed in the fray.

In the chaos of battle, the standard-bearer had even lost the banner that represented the lord’s status and his family’s honor. Earl Fegan couldn’t be bothered to reprimand his subordinate; he could only allow his personal guards to hustle him into a swift retreat toward Grizzly Keep.

It was not until night fell that Earl Fegan’s party found a flat area by a lake to make camp. Many family knights who had been separated in the chaos of battle followed the hoofprints of the main group and managed to rejoin their lord.

The recruited mercenaries and conscripted laborers were, of course, nowhere to be found. During the defeat, they had unhesitatingly abandoned the donkey carts carrying supplies and food, forcing the Earl’s men to slaughter their horses for sustenance that night.

Baron Ross, a representative of the vassal nobles, had been hanging back at the rear of the charging knight formation from the very beginning and had luckily managed to save his own skin. Earl Fegan was well aware of his cowardly behavior, but he was in no mood to hold him accountable at the moment.

Only a single simple tent remained in the camp, which was naturally reserved for the Earl.

Inside the tent, the few remaining minor nobles who had accompanied the army gathered around Earl Fegan, their faces pale, staring silently at their lord. All of them looked wretched and deeply shaken.

Earl Fegan drew his longsword and drove it into the ground, demanding in a low voice, “Can anyone tell me what kind of magic and weapons they were using? They had a longer range than crossbows, yet their method of attack was completely invisible, leading to the inexplicable defeat of our elite knights!”

Baron Ross sat cross-legged on the ground in an awkward posture, trying to ignore the damp, cold feeling in his breeches beneath his armor. He answered timidly, “Lord Earl, I… I didn’t see clearly either. As the knights were assembling, I just heard one of the Priests from the Church’s Judgment Army shout that the casters were attacking… Then, not far in front of me, a knight—it was as if he was struck by lightning. His body and limbs suddenly blew apart, turning into a pile of mangled flesh along with the horse beneath him… It was… it was a scene straight out of Hell.”

The leader of the personal guards muttered, “It must be casters! Only those evil wizards would have such terrifying methods. Ordinary men can’t possibly defend against their strange spells.”

“Impossible!” Earl Fegan said with a frown. “I’ve seen them cast spells many times. It requires long incantations, and there are delays between casts. And they can’t possibly harm us from such a distance; magical attacks have a maximum range of two or three hundred meters at most…”

As he said this, Earl Fegan suddenly recalled vaguely seeing dozens of incandescent white flashes behind the enemy’s line during the battle. He slapped his thigh and stood up in sudden realization. “I remember now! Those catapult-like things behind their lines, and those strange long poles without spearheads in the soldiers’ hands… Those are their secret weapons!”

Baron Ross asked cautiously, “Even if we know what weapons they used… we’ve already lost. What should we do now?”

The Earl shot him an irritated glare and stubbornly argued, “We haven’t been completely defeated! It’s just the loss of a single battle. Look at all of you, acting like cowards! As long as we get back to Grizzly Keep, I can raise another army. I won’t underestimate them like this again. His Grace the Grand Duke and the Church have already officially declared war on the Federation of Casters. We just need to wait for His Grace to send reinforcements skilled in dealing with casters. We’ll have a chance to make a comeback.”

He paced back and forth in the tent, muttering fiercely to himself, “That fellow’s barren territory relies entirely on the merchant guilds from the south for food and supplies. As long as I hold Grizzly Keep and send men to cut off all trade routes to Jackdaw Town, they won’t last long without resupply…”

But before the Earl could finish speaking, a sudden, loud commotion erupted outside the tent. By the time he rushed out with his personal guards, he found everyone in the camp throwing down their helmets and armor, fleeing for their lives. A nearby campfire was abruptly extinguished by a spray of dirt, and he once again heard the piercing, tearing sound of a magical weapon punching through a knight’s armor…

Before the Earl could react, a personal guard grabbed a warhorse and shoved him onto its back. “My Lord Earl, you must go! They’re here!”

Clinging to the horse’s back, a terrified Earl Fegan looked around and saw that in the deep woods beyond their lakeside camp, countless bright torches had appeared at some point, interspersed with the pale white glow of many light-emitting magic stones.

How did they catch up so quickly?

Chapter 289: Noble Captives

Earl Fegan gazed at the pursuers who had, at some unknown point, completely surrounded his lakeside camp, and felt half his heart turn to ice.

After their rout on the battlefield outside Jackdaw Town, they had retreated for a full thirty-five to forty kilometers without the slightest delay, pushing their horses to a dead gallop just to reach this place. How had these infantrymen managed to catch up at nearly the same time and, under the cover of darkness, complete a silent encirclement?

Far away in the capital, Goldshine City, His Grace the Grand Duke had already formally declared war on the Federation of Casters. As a Spellcaster himself, the Earl’s own recent declaration of war would undoubtedly make him a mortal enemy in their eyes.

Escape was impossible. Galloping through a mountain forest at night, they wouldn’t get very far. Surrender on the spot? Perhaps, given his noble status, his family could pay a handsome ransom to save his life. There would be considerable humiliation, but compared to his life, it was entirely bearable.

Watching the army press closer from the forest, and the intermittent flashes of white light from deeper within the dense woods, Earl Fegan understood that they were using those long-range magic trebuchets again, reaping the lives of the knights and personal guards in his temporary camp.

He opened his mouth in a panic, but found he couldn’t bring himself to utter the words of surrender. His blood-splattered personal guards gathered around him, forming a protective circle, and urged him on. “Lord Earl, these foot soldiers can’t stop us! As long as we form a cavalry wedge and charge out of the encirclement, they’ll never catch up on their two legs! We’re only a night’s ride from Grizzly Keep. Please, lead us in a charge!”

The Earl tugged at his reins, his horse pacing on the spot. He hesitated for a moment, then saw the enemy soldiers halt their advance in perfect unison and raise the pointless iron rods in their hands.

A dense series of crackling sounds erupted. The personal guards in front of him exploded in great blossoms of blood, screaming as they fell from their horses. His captain of the guard, who had been with him since childhood, suffered an even more gruesome fate. He was struck directly in the face by the strange weapon, and his head burst apart like a fragile egg. Blood and brain matter sprayed all over the Earl’s head and face.

Earl Fegan’s face went pale with terror. He quickly drew the sigil longsword that represented his noble rank, held it high, and shouted his identity to the soldiers.

“Cease your attack! Cease your attack! I am the Lord of Grizzly Keep, the hereditary Earl Fegan—”

He was only halfway through his sentence when he suddenly felt a violent jolt in his chest and abdomen, as if he’d been struck by a sledgehammer through his armor. A hot stream flowed from his torso to his waist, and an intense numbness and weakness spread through his entire body and limbs. His body went limp, and he slumped backward, tumbling heavily from his horse.

The half-orc officer in the lead, Dav, walked over. Looking at the noble knights scattered on the ground, he scratched his head and muttered in confusion, “What was this old guy saying? Hey! This longsword of his looks pretty good…”

The Northern Army, tasked with external combat missions, conducted long-distance forced marches across the barren lands several times a month. Night marches were a required part of their training. Compared to the rugged, dense mountains of the barren lands, the road from Jackdaw Town to Grizzly Keep was like walking on perfectly flat ground.

The advance pursuit unit rode in pairs on lightning-fast Magic Motorcycles, while the subsequent infantry troops traveled in an orderly fashion aboard War Beast transports. Only the Artillery Battalion was slightly slower, requiring two alchemical camel-beasts to pull each gun carriage, bringing up the rear.

Most of the Bloodline Warriors had participated in the earlier battle with the Church’s Judgment Army outside the town. With the powerful support of two high-level casters, and by perfectly coordinating their Magical Energy Guns with their own bloodline talents, they had managed to encircle and annihilate the enemy with almost no casualties. They even captured two men who appeared to be high-ranking Priests. A squad was immediately dispatched to escort them back to the territory for the Lord to interrogate and handle.

They couldn’t be bothered to deal with the mercenaries and conscripted laborers fleeing for their lives all over the mountains. They grabbed whoever they could; in any case, the director of the pioneer territories’ mines was eagerly awaiting this free labor.

As instructed by the Lord and Commander Pierce, the pursuing force’s primary targets were these nobles and knights on tall horses and in shiny armor. It was said that capturing just one could fetch a handsome ransom, and this income would directly fund the Northern Army’s current military operation.

Of course, the Lord had added one more thing: any enemy who dared to raise a weapon and resist should be killed on the spot, regardless of their status—just like the group Dav had just encountered.

“Clean up the battlefield! The ones who dropped their weapons and surrendered, and those on the ground who can’t fight back, drag them all onto the vehicles. Check carefully! Anyone still breathing is worth money. Don’t forget to pour a couple of sips of first aid potion down their throats to keep them alive.”

Dav ordered loudly with a wide grin, then rubbed his hands together and joined in himself, picking through the pile of dead enemies before him, looking for something of quality to claim as his own. Soldiers were required to turn in all spoils of war, but officers were permitted to select one trophy, which they could redeem with battle merit from the engagement.

Next month was his good brother Vaughn’s birthday. It would be the first time in his life he had ever celebrated it. Dav had already decided to pick out a gift for him, and a war trophy representing martial prowess and battle merit was the most fitting choice.

From the waist of the sturdy old man who had been brandishing a longsword at him moments ago, he pulled off a belt. It was stained with blood, but the buckle still shone with a golden light. He wiped it satisfactorily on his uniform and stuffed it into his combat pouch.

A team leader walked over and reminded him, “Chief, Commander Pierce told us before we left to try and find and capture the primary target of this battle, Earl Fegan, alive. But we’ve searched the whole camp and haven’t found him. We don’t even know what the Earl looks like. Could he have already escaped?”

Dav frowned, then shook his head. “It doesn’t matter if he escaped. That guy Wayne already took a Special Operations Squad of Bloodline Warriors and cut ahead of us. They’re guarding the only road back to Grizzly Keep. Not even a fly will make it back to their nest.”

He cheerfully lifted the sharp longsword and grinned at his subordinate. “This longsword is fantastic. I’m going to personally present it to the Lord. It’ll look perfect hanging in his study. He’ll definitely like it…”

A day and a night later, arriving in the pioneer territories with the first batch of returning soldiers were not only a group of miserable-looking captives but also a bruised and swollen Dav, personally escorted by Vaughn, the captain of the Northern Army’s First Battalion.

“My lord, this Blockhead… he didn’t recognize Earl Fegan and shot him dead!”

Vaughn’s face was ashen. He bitterly regretted not repeating his instructions and issuing a mandatory order before they set out, which had now cost the Lord a massive ransom.

“Dead?” Harvey froze for a moment before the reality sank in. It was as if he had just watched a fortune of at least tens of thousands of gold pounds sprout wings and fly away right before his eyes. His face twitched in anguish. “For… forget it. If he’s dead, he’s dead. The soldiers fought hard, and on the battlefield, guns and cannons have no eyes. It’s understandable that he didn’t make it…”

As for not recognizing Earl Fegan… Harvey covered his face with a wry smile. The truth was, he didn’t know who Earl Fegan was either, nor did he have any idea what the man looked like. How could he expect it from his soldiers from the barren lands, who had barely seen a handful of southern nobles in their lives?

“Dav won’t be punished under Military Law this time. Just use his battle merit to offset the penalty. No need to be too harsh, but don’t let it happen again…”

He paused, then quickly added, “Have the remaining noble captives locked up securely. After you’ve compiled a list of their identities and families, send out the ransom letters as soon as possible, to avoid any complications from delays.”

Astaren approached with a stack of documents and reported in a business-like tone, “My lord, the tally is complete. The total ransom required from these nobles amounts to thirty-eight thousand gold pounds. This was calculated according to the standard redemption practices for warring nobles in the southern kingdoms. Would you like to see the detailed list?”

Harvey shook his head. “No need. Increase all the ransoms by thirty percent. For nobles who can’t produce the money, they can pay me in grain and the population of their fiefs. If they refuse, just patch up their wounds and send them straight to the mines to do hard labor.”

Chapter 290: Bombardment of Grizzly Keep

On the towering eastern wall of Grizzly Keep, a Knight Commander clad in full armor raised a spyglass, gazing incessantly toward Jackdaw Town.

Anher, the Earl’s magical Advisor, hurried up to the battlement and approached the Knight Commander, asking, “Baron, what is the situation?”

Baron Trevor, Earl Fegan’s cousin, lowered his spyglass and snorted coldly. “They’re gathered just outside the city. Scouts report they have fewer than one thousand soldiers. Hmph. No catapults or any other siege engines. Those commoner soldiers can’t even scrape together a full set of armor… I’d like to see how they plan to take this city.”

After word of the Earl’s defeat arrived from Jackdaw Town, the Fegan family in Grizzly Keep, along with their numerous vassal nobles, fell into a state of panic. Baron Trevor, the Earl’s cousin and Chief of the family knights, stepped forward at the opportune moment to steady their nerves and take charge.

Although his cousin, a veteran of countless battles, had suffered an inexplicable defeat, Trevor had already formed a theory in his mind. A valiant noble who always led the charge from the front was naturally prone to fall due to his own recklessness and impulsiveness. Furthermore, with the clear assistance of Federation Spellcasters on the enemy side, it was not entirely unexpected that Earl Fegan had fallen into their trap.

But the current situation was different. In the hundred-plus years since its construction, Grizzly Keep had never once been breached. Even during the largest southern invasion of the vile orcs decades ago, those ugly, savage non-human races had merely lingered outside the walls for a few days before retreating in disgrace upon seeing its high, sturdy, gray ramparts.

The enemy would surely send Spellcasters to infiltrate and harass the city, but Baron Trevor did not fear them. Aside from the hundred-man squad of the Church’s Judgment Army that had marched out with Earl Fegan, several high-rank Priests and knights of the Judgment Army were still stationed in the city. The family’s hired magical advisors, led by Anher, were also fully prepared to deal with anything the enemy threw at them.

An attendant ran up the wall in a rush. “Baron, their army is on the move! They’re heading for the east gate!”

“What’s all the panic? I already know,” the Baron snapped harshly. “Send word down. Have the assembled knights stand by at the gate, and drive those temporarily recruited mercenaries onto the walls to help with the defense.”

He turned to his magical Advisor, Anher. “Mr. Anher, please ensure your low-rank Mages and squires do not leave the walls. I suspect they will send Spellcasters to harass us first…”

Anher frowned. “Baron, should we not first send an envoy to negotiate with them? The Earl is still in their hands, along with all the nobles who marched with him. We at least need to…”

Trevor waved his hand impatiently, cutting him off. “The enemy is at our gates. What is there to talk about? Even if we are to discuss ransoms for the prisoners, that will have to wait until after this battle. We will negotiate with them then, as victors.”

Anher froze for a moment and was about to argue further when he heard the heavy scraping of armor and footsteps behind him. It was Torre Damir, the High-Rank Knight Commander of the Radiant Church’s Judgment Army stationed in Grizzly Keep.

He was one of the high-rank Judgment Army commanders sent from Goldshine City by the Grand Duke of St. Valen and the Church as reinforcements for Grizzly Keep. The other commander had previously marched with Earl Fegan to Jackdaw Town and, like the Earl, had gone missing after the defeat. It was presumed he was either ambushed and killed by the enemy’s Spellcasters or had been captured.

The lord of the pioneer territories, himself a Spellcaster, would not treat a member of the Church’s Judgment Army the same way he would a noble prisoner. The enmity between their two sides had persisted for centuries; they were mortal enemies. Therefore, it was highly probable that the Knight Commander had been killed on the spot.

“Our men among the scouts have not detected any signs of Spellcasters in the enemy’s ranks… but we cannot let our guard down. My Judgment Army knights are fully assembled and on standby. When their assault on the walls falters, we will open the gates and charge with you,” said High-Rank Knight Commander Torre Damir in a decisive, deep voice.

As the three spoke, the defending soldiers on the walls had already set up cauldrons of oil and piled up rolling logs. Hundreds of archers and crossbowmen stood ready with their weapons at the battlements, waiting only for the enemy outside to approach and begin their attack.

But the slowly advancing army outside suddenly halted. They stopped just outside the range of the city’s ranged weapons and began to leisurely spread out their lines, busily fiddling with something unknown.

“What are they doing?” Baron Trevor asked, perplexed. “It’s one thing to not have catapults, but they haven’t even prepared siege ladders. Do they intend to break down the gate with their soldiers’ bodies?”

High-Rank Knight Commander Torre Damir surmised, “Perhaps they’re waiting for us to open the gates and fight them on the open field. There must be Spellcasters lying in ambush. We must not fall for their trick so easily.”

The magical Advisor Anher then offered, “Baron, shall I send a few low-rank Spellcasters out of the city to probe their forces? If we can draw out their hidden Spellcasters, it would help Chief Inquisitor Damir lock onto their targets.”

Baron Trevor hesitated for a moment and was about to speak when he suddenly saw several strangely shaped metal wagons being pushed forward from the rear of the army outside. On the wagons were dark, cylindrical objects that resembled battering rams.

He narrowed his eyes and pulled out his spyglass again from his hip. Just as he brought it to his eye for a closer look, a dazzlingly bright flash of white fire erupted from the front of the dark cylinders on the wagons.

A low hum carried over from the distance…

Mere moments later, a deep clap of thunder erupted at the base of the city wall, and the men standing on it felt a slight tremor under their feet.

“What happened?”

“Is that a Dragon’s Flame Gun from the Federation of Casters? Don’t they only use that kind of magical weapon on the Demonic battlefields of the Evil Moon Mountain Range?”

“No! The Dragon’s Flame Gun is an alchemical weapon that spews magical fire. It can’t possibly hit the city wall from over 500 meters away.”

But the tremors underfoot were too clear to be a shared illusion. Could it be some new type of magical weapon created by the Federation? Was this what had defeated Earl Fegan?

Advisor Anher took the spyglass from the Baron and had a look, but he too shook his head in confusion, indicating he didn’t know. He then handed it to the bewildered Knight Commander of the Judgment Army, Damir, who also gazed through it for a moment before falling silent.

Before long, the blazing white light flashed again from the enemy formation outside the city. This time, there were four distinct flashes.

The same low hum followed, but the deep clap of thunder that came after seemed much closer. A section of the battlements less than a few dozen meters from the three men suddenly exploded with a boom. Countless shards of rock scattered and flew through the air, and large stone blocks from the wall fell to the ground below as a thick cloud of dust billowed up.

Baron Trevor instinctively ducked to take cover, his ears ringing as if he had gone deaf. Anher lost his footing and stumbled, falling beside him. Only the Knight Commander of the Judgment Army, Damir, managed to stay upright by grabbing onto a crenel for support.

It was a long moment before everyone recovered from the sudden explosion. They then saw that at the spot where the battlement had been obliterated, the upper bodies of several defending soldiers had been crushed as if by a massive boulder. A gory mess of mangled limbs and steaming entrails was splattered across the ground.

Not far from those unfortunate souls, several more soldiers in chainmail had fallen. They had been pierced by the fine stone fragments from the blast, which had punched through their armor, and copious amounts of blood gushed from the sieve-like holes riddling their bodies.

The enemy was still a kilometer away, yet a gap several meters wide had already been blasted into the city wall.

How did they do it?

Chapter 291: The Gates Fall in an Instant

“We can’t let them keep… attacking us wantonly with those long-range magical weapons!” Damir, the Knight Commander of the Army of Judgment, pulled the disheveled magic advisor to his feet, his face grim. “Open the gates at once! Have the lord’s family knights charge with us!”

There were indeed Spellcasters hidden among the common soldiers outside the city. Judging by the firing interval of that strange magic artifact, it was obvious it required Spellcasters to infuse it with their own mana to operate. He had seen far too many of these wizards’ alchemical tricks in the Evil Moon Mountain Range… The best way to deal with them was to engage in close combat, giving those folk no time or opportunity to manipulate their artifacts.

A Spellcaster’s own mana reserves were limited. If they used all their power to operate the artifacts, they would naturally run out of mana quickly. At that point, these physically weak individuals would be even more fragile than the unarmored common soldiers.

With this in mind, Damir decided to delay no longer. He drew the enchanted longsword from his waist and stomped down the city wall. At a nod from the baron, the magic advisor, Anher, hurried to follow.

…

Just as the thunderous explosion erupted from the city wall, the count’s family knights, who had gathered at the city gate, had just finished forming up with the dozens of Army of Judgment knights who arrived after them. They were each checking their armor and swords.

The massive blast and tremor from overhead startled the warhorses, which neighed incessantly. Many knights yanked at their reins, struggling to control their spinning mounts, and the freshly assembled formation descended back into chaos.

“Did the enemy send Spellcasters to attack?” a battle priest asked with a frown, looking at Knight Commander Damir, who was rushing down from the wall.

Damir nodded and swung himself onto his agitated warhorse. He raised his sword to the knight formation behind him. “The gates are about to open! Everyone, charge with me at once! The enemy is less than a thousand meters away. We must punch through their defensive line with the utmost speed!”

He turned his head to see the magic advisor Anher, who had followed him, and said gravely, “Mr. Anher, please dispatch your men to follow us out of the city and assist us in dealing with the Spellcasters hidden among the enemy soldiers.”

Anher nodded in agreement. There were clearly no signs of high-level casters in the enemy army; otherwise, when the wall was attacked just now, those who could fly would have already taken advantage of the opening. This meant that the ones operating those long-range artifacts were mostly mid-to-low-rank Mages. With this group of the Church’s Army of Judgment knights and battle priests shielding them at the front, the odds of victory were extremely high.

After everyone was ready, they waited for a while, only to find the city gate remained shut.

This massive gate, forged from thousands of pounds of iron bars and solid wood, required several guards on the wall to turn a winch as large as a wagon wheel to open it slowly. The order to open the gate had been given a long time ago, so why was there not the slightest sign of it opening?

Just as Damir was about to dispatch a personal guard to climb the wall and hurry them along, another muffled clap of thunder exploded by his ear.

Immediately after, a series of violent explosions rang out. Damir seized his warhorse’s reins, about to use the raw strength of a bloodline knight to suppress the animal’s agitation, when the massive stone blocks beside the city gate suddenly burst apart!

Boom!

Splattering shards of stone shot out from a thick cloud of dust and smoke like crossbow bolts. Damir only had time to hear the whoosh of a stone flying past his ear before he felt a sudden numbness in three places: his chest, his shoulder, and the side of his waist. He realized his armor had been pierced, and the body it protected had been pierced as well.

The Knight Commander, blessed with a bloodline talent, immediately mustered all his strength, using his muscles to forcibly close the wounds and slow the bleeding. As long as his vital organs and head were not pierced, such injuries wouldn’t rob a high-rank member of the Army of Judgment of his ability to fight.

But in the next second, he heard with despair the sound of thunder ringing in his ears once more…

“They… why are they attacking faster and faster? Isn’t there a casting interval?”

Just as the thought surfaced in his mind, the horse beneath him suddenly shuddered violently. It reared up on its hind legs with a wounded neigh. Before the Knight Commander could react, he was thrown heavily from his mount. In its frantic stampede, the terrified warhorse trod on his knee.

An excruciating, heart-piercing pain made him grunt, and the wounds he had managed to suppress burst open again.

Two Army of Judgment knights rushed over, drove away the crazed horse, and dragged him aside. “Knight Commander! Are you injured?”

Amid the chaos, Damir turned his head to see that the knight formation was in complete disarray. Many had been wounded and thrown from their horses. The men at the rear of the charge were spurring their horses towards the sides of the gate, trying to escape the sudden explosive damage.

He grabbed his subordinate’s arm and tried with all his might to stand, but after several attempts, he failed. Clenching his teeth, he looked down at his injured leg. His knee was a bloody mess, the misshapen, shattered leg armor had pierced straight through his thigh, and he could faintly see a shard of white, broken bone protruding from muscle and cloth.

Damir’s heart went cold as that strange thunderous sound rang out again…

This time, the stone lintel above the city gate was hit.

He watched with his own eyes as a massive stone block shattered and fell to the ground, landing squarely on a knight who was charging about wildly. In an instant, it smashed both man and horse into a pulp.

“It’s high-level casters! It’s the high-rank Mage Corps from the Federation!”

A magic advisor from one of the count’s families at the rear shrieked, and the already chaotic scene erupted completely.

They weren’t fighting some pioneer lord from the Northern Barren Lands; they were facing the high-rank Mage Corps of the Federation of Casters! What was the point of fighting? Staying here was simply waiting to die!

The assembled knights wheeled their horses around and galloped madly towards the city district behind them, crashing into the magic advisors and mage squires who were supposed to be holding the rear, sending men and horses flying and trampling each other like headless chickens.

Knight Commander Damir was being dragged rapidly away from the gate by two loyal members of the Army of Judgment. They had only managed to drag him a few meters when a rolling thunderclap sounded, and a piece of cut stone from the wall, the size of a millstone, came spinning down from above.

The stone was heading straight for them. The Knight Commander of the Army of Judgment closed his eyes in despair.

The last sound he heard before losing consciousness was a terrified roar from behind him.

“The gate is breached!”

…

Four volleys, three misses.

Lynx felt the cold sweat on his back drenching his thick winter combat uniform. He stole a glance at the grim face of the commander standing not far away, then looked down at the four empty slots in the ammunition box at his feet, which had been fully loaded with twelve magical energy shells.

It’s over, it’s over! I’m so done for! During regular training, his artillery crew had always been the most accurate. Yesterday, during the field battle outside Jackdaw Town, they had also performed well.

So why had their performance been so abysmal today? It must be the fault of those useless comrades from the other artillery crews!

He gritted his teeth and glared fiercely at the leaders of the crews to his left and right, only to see that they all looked unwell. Someone was even secretly turning away to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

The gate of Grizzly Keep, a thousand meters away, was indeed a smaller target than a cavalry formation of four or five hundred men charging in a cluster. But it was a stationary, inanimate object! How had these guys managed to miss three times in a row?

Pierce’s face was ashen as he looked at the city gate, which had finally been blasted open after the last volley. He had only one thought in his mind.

If the spoils plundered from the count’s city of Grizzly Keep weren’t enough to cover the cost of the ammunition expended, he feared that upon returning to the territory, even if my lord Harvey wouldn’t reprimand him too harshly, Mentor Astaren would not let him off.

And Rainer… he was the most pained by the use of these magical energy shells, which were already extremely scarce and in short supply…

Chapter 292: Fierce Battle in the City

The Northern Army soldiers outside the city erupted into a chorus of fervent cheers as the Artillery Battalion finally blasted open the gates of Grizzly Keep.

They had no need for conventional siege engines, nor did they have to brave the arrows and scalding oil from the ramparts to climb the walls. No defense could withstand the bombardment of the Magical-Powered Cannons; if one volley wasn’t enough, they’d just fire a few more.

As for the enemies on the walls, a sniper squad clad in “Illusion Camouflage” combat suits had long been lying in wait on the western hillside, picking them off one by one. Men were constantly being shot and tumbling from the ramparts.

The Artillery Battalion didn’t cease its attack. This time, they turned their sights on the city walls themselves. Following several explosions, crimson fireballs bloomed atop the walls and quickly spread along the entire section. The magical energy shells had struck the boiling oil, igniting the rolling logs and stones meant for defense. Flames and thick smoke were everywhere, and scalding oil flowed across the ground.

The soldiers who had been preparing to defend the city just a moment before scattered and fled. Many lost their way in the dense smoke billowing from the walls and fell to their deaths. Others were unlucky enough to be splashed with the burning oil, turning into giant human fireballs as they leaped straight off the battlements.

“The defenses on the walls have collapsed…” Pierce watched the smoke-wreathed Grizzly Keep, an almost imperceptible, bloodthirsty excitement showing in his eyes. Even from a thousand meters away, he could smell the thick stench of blood—a foul, scorched odor laced with a hint of despair and terror.

Watching men who were once his own kind lose their lives so easily in battle, he felt not a shred of sympathy or pity. He knew full well that if his side were the one to fail, the enemy’s methods would likely be even more brutal.

“Have the Special Operations Squad’s Bloodline Warriors act as the vanguard, with the Northern Army regulars following close behind.” Pierce’s voice was grim as he issued the order to enter the city. “Remember, prioritize killing and clearing out the Earl of Grizzly Keep’s personal guard and knights. Wayne has been here before. Have him lead a team straight to the Earl’s Mansion. That will be the last place they make their stand.”

He turned to the Artillery Battalion and commanded, “Coordinate with the other soldiers to quickly secure all city gates. If anyone armed tries to escape the city, there is no need to wait for my command. You have permission to fire at will.”

Soon, the horn to begin the assault on the city echoed throughout the army.

…

As the Captain of the Second Squad, First Battalion of the Northern Army, Wayne shouldered the responsibility of leading the spearhead assault into the city.

His objective was to charge straight for Earl Fegan’s mansion and deliver a fatal blow to the remnants of the Earl’s family who had retreated there to make their last stand.

Of the two entire battalions of the Northern Army participating in this battle, he was the only one who had managed to stealthily infiltrate Grizzly Keep over a year ago. Naturally, he was the only one who could swiftly and accurately locate the Earl’s den in this massive city of ten thousand people.

But just two streets away from the Earl’s Mansion, their rapid advance was halted. The enemy had set up a defensive line at a street intersection, clearly marked by a Church of Glory building. Four or five Judgment Army knights, Bloodline Warriors just like them, leaped out to block their path.

A Bloodline Warrior at the very front didn’t have time to react. He was struck by a blade from a Judgment Army knight who burst out from a house on the side of the street, sending him crashing into a shop on the right. The metallic clang of weapons clashing immediately rang out from within; it seemed the injured warrior was still engaged in close-quarters combat.

Another Northern Army Bloodline Warrior, his alchemical longblade instantly frosting over with a thin layer of ice, also charged into the building to assist.

“Watch out for enemy arrows! Don’t try to tank them with your bodies!”

“Use the houses on both sides as cover! Push forward quickly to their fortifications, and watch out for those Judgment Army knights!”

“Regular soldiers, fire at will! Provide cover for our Bloodline Warriors to engage!”

Wayne tucked his empty Magical Energy Gun under his arm and brandished his blades. A crimson flame immediately erupted from both alchemical longblades. The two-to-three-hundred-meter distance vanished in an instant under his lightning-fast charge.

He leaped high over a row of wooden barricades and cleaved a low-ranking Priest cowering in the back, instantly setting the man ablaze. The Priest burned fiercely, like a human candle.

From his side, a crossbow bolt whizzed through the air, piercing the arm he was using to hold his gun. The Bloodline Warrior spun around and hurled the blade in his left hand, skewering two a-rank City Guards who had ambushed him, running them both through.

Wayne reloaded his Magical Energy Gun and raised it, blowing the head off a Judgment Army knight who was fighting one of his Bloodline Warriors. A mix of brain and blood splattered across his comrade’s head and face, but his companion paid it no mind, letting out a savage laugh.

A few minutes later, the bloody, brutal battle was over.

Two heavily wounded Bloodline Warriors were placed on folding stretchers and quickly carried toward the now-secured city gate area for emergency treatment. The rest, with minor injuries, skillfully took out bandages and potions from the combat packs on their waists to treat their own wounds and alleviate the pain.

They pushed forward another street and found more enemies swarming the road. Although there were far fewer members of the Church’s Judgment Army with their supernatural powers among them, it would still take time to deal with these ordinary soldiers.

“Damn it! They’re stalling! Buying time for the remnants of Earl Fegan’s family to escape!” Wayne immediately realized something was wrong. These nobles weren’t all greedy, foolish idiots; they were capable of using strategy and tactics.

And then there were the knights, who kept roaring as they charged at him. Even though they knew they were no match for magical weapons and powerful Bloodline Warriors, they still fought fearlessly to the death for the lord they served.

Wayne cut down a heavily armored knight, then turned and snarled at a messenger, “Where’s Dav from the Third Battalion? Weren’t they supposed to cover our flank? Where the hell are they?”

“All soldiers, fire at will! Don’t slow your advance!”

“Damn nobles! Any longer and they’ll get away!”

The battle on the street was at a fever pitch. A steady stream of the Earl’s personal guard and family knights poured out from behind the enemy’s defensive line, using their own lives to halt the advance of Wayne’s assault squad and prevent them from pursuing the remnants of the Earl’s family, who were preparing to escape through a secret passage in the castle.

Just then, Wayne suddenly heard a clear voice from above and behind him. “Your flank support ran into trouble three streets away. They were intercepted by a group of Earl Fegan’s Spellcasters. Mr. Eye of Illusion has already gone to support them.”

Wayne turned around to see a slender, graceful figure descend from the sky and land before him. It was Ms. Astrologer.

“Just focus on clearing out the enemies in front of you. I’ll take care of intercepting the Earl’s escaping family.”

Chapter 293: Plunder and Reckoning

Half an hour later, the exceptionally fierce resistance finally came to an end. The streets were so choked with enemy corpses that they nearly blocked the way, and even the paving stones were soaked in blood.

Wayne quickly tallied their losses and found that over a dozen regular soldiers had been killed. His face immediately darkened. He ordered his men to collect their fallen comrades and continued toward the Earl’s Mansion without any delay.

Fortunately, his and Dav’s combat squads arrived at the gates of the Earl’s Mansion at nearly the same time. They immediately followed their orders, setting up temporary firing positions and tightly guarding all the exits, including the main and side gates.

Dav’s combat squad wasn’t in good shape either. He, at least, looked like he had been through a rough time. His uniform and hair were scorched black and tattered as if burned by intense fire, and a large blister had formed on his neck from a burn.

Dav spat heavily on the ground as he loaded his Magical Energy Gun. “Damn it! Why are those Spellcasters siding with those dogs from the nobility and the Church? They actually helped them attack us. A few fireballs suddenly came at us from the rooftops and killed several of my soldiers!”

Wayne rolled his eyes and chided him, “Do you think every Spellcaster in the world is with the Federation? There will always be Mages who are against us. Don’t you dare show them any kindness.”

Dav pouted and changed the subject. “Mr. Eye of Illusion and Ms. the Astrologer have already snuck into the Earl’s Mansion. How come there’s no word from them? Why don’t we just charge in after them?”

“These are the Commander’s orders,” Wayne explained. “It’s to prevent the remnants of the Earl’s family from taking everyone down with them by setting this mansion on fire. Don’t forget, this place holds the wealth their family has spent decades accumulating!”

A little while later, the other combat squads began to arrive at the Earl’s Mansion one by one. Even the Artillery Battalion had finished clearing the road and was slowly advancing with their gun carriages.

Two figures flew out from a third-floor window of the Earl’s Mansion and landed before Commander Pierce.

“Eye of Illusion found Earl Fegan’s family in a secret passage beneath the mansion, just as they were about to escape. But we’ve destroyed the exit, so they’re trapped inside now…” Ms. the Astrologer paused before continuing, “However, a group of Earl Fegan’s loyalists have retreated into the family treasury to make a stand. They’ve piled up a large amount of wood and lamp oil. If we force our way in, they’ll set the entire mansion ablaze.”

Eye of Illusion exchanged a look with his partner, spread his hands, and chuckled helplessly. “We’ve already taken care of all the Spellcasters under the Earl’s command. We won’t be needed for the rest of this battle. You can worry about it yourselves.”

Pierce bowed and offered his sincere thanks to the two high-rank Spellcasters. Then, he hailed the Artillery Battalion, which had already taken formation. “In that case, if we wish to pay them a formal visit, we must first knock politely… Open fire!”

Earl Fegan’s Secretary listened to the continuous thunderous sounds from above, his teeth chattering as he spoke to Baron Trevor. “Baron, why didn’t we escape through the secret passage with the Earl’s family? I… I don’t want to die here!”

A guard knight stepped forward, reversed his sword, and knocked the coward unconscious with the pommel. He then turned and bowed to the Baron. “My lord, the firewood and lamp oil are ready. My only wish is to have one final battle with the enemy when they storm the mansion!”

The pale-faced Baron Trevor stood silently, leaning on his longsword. He glanced around, looking with a heavy heart at the vast collection of jewels, antiques, and the wealth his family had amassed for generations, all of which would likely soon be put to the torch along with him.

The Baron gritted his teeth, his resolve hardening. A massive fire could conceal the entrance to the secret passage and buy time for his remaining relatives to escape. After all, his wife, eldest daughter, and youngest son were among those fleeing.

Just as he was about to give the order to light the fire, a sudden wail came from the treasury’s great door. A guard opened it and was shocked to find the family members who had been arranged to escape through the secret passage.

“Baron, they… they’ve blocked the secret passage! A Spellcaster got to the exit before we did and sealed it shut with a massive boulder. We… we can’t get out!”

The Baron’s vision went dark. The enemy had sent a Spellcaster to infiltrate the mansion, but why did they only cut off the escape route without attacking anyone? Could it be…

He instantly understood their intentions. Utterly dejected, he sheathed his longsword and said in a low voice, “Clear away the lamp oil and firewood in the treasury, then lock the great door again. We will all lay down our arms… Follow me out!”

The street outside the Earl’s Mansion was eerily quiet. Soldiers of the Northern Army stood in neat formations on both sides of the road. In the distance, the bloody traces of the recent battle were still visible.

Baron Trevor held his inverted longsword in his right hand, his left arm tightly holding his ten-year-old son. He led a group of Earl Fegan’s relatives out slowly through the main gate of the Earl’s Mansion, which had been reduced to a gaping hole by cannon fire.

As he passed through the ruined gateway, a palm-sized piece of a wooden relief carving fell from the crumbling doorframe, striking him on the forehead. A trickle of blood ran down, causing him to narrow his eyes involuntarily.

But Baron Trevor still did his utmost to maintain his noble dignity and composure. He led his people slowly to the silently standing soldiers and offered the hilt of his inverted longsword to a pale man who was clearly the leader of the enemy forces.

“We have lost… The Fegan family chooses to surrender. According to the customs and etiquette of noble warfare, we are willing to offer all our family’s accumulated wealth in exchange for the freedom and safety of the captives. Please…”

Pierce took the longsword from the Baron, stuck it carelessly into the ground at his feet, and cut him off with a smirk. “All your family’s accumulated wealth? Mr. Knight, are you referring to the things in the treasury beneath the Earl’s Mansion? With all due respect, I’m afraid those don’t belong to you anymore. From the moment we stormed Grizzly Keep, they became the spoils of war for my lord, Harvey Floyd…”

Trevor was stunned for a moment. Suppressing the humiliation and rage in his heart, he gritted his teeth and said in a low voice, “Then what can we use to bargain for our freedom? Does your lord truly intend to execute nobles? Even the Federation, which is currently at war with His Majesty the Grand Duke of St. Valen, wouldn’t resort to such actions…”

Pierce burst out laughing. “You have surrendered. According to my lord’s policy toward prisoners, we will not, of course, execute you outright—unless you resist stubbornly like Earl Fegan… However, you will all need to return with me to the Northern Realm and meet my lord Harvey in person. At that time, you can plead with him and ask what price you must pay for your freedom and your lives.”

Baron Trevor’s heart sank. So his cousin had indeed not survived and was killed in battle. He was likely the first earl in the hundred-year history of St. Valen to die in a civil war between domestic feudal lords.

He turned his head slightly to look at the Earl’s Mansion, no longer as luxurious and magnificent as it once was, and for a moment, he felt an overwhelming sense of desolation.

Chapter 294: Ransom and Fealty

Harvey sat at ease at the head of the castle hall, a list of assets in his hand, which he read through slowly. This was an inventory of the confiscated property of the nobles who had surrendered and been captured after the battle of Grizzly Keep, with Earl Fegan’s family holdings being the most prominent.

On both sides of the hall stood numerous warriors in crisp military uniforms, their searing gazes fixed on Baron Trevor and his retinue in the center. The warriors wore no heavy, gleaming armor, no magnificent capes or ribbons. They didn’t even have the decorative swords at their waists drawn, yet their presence alone made the nobles feel immense pressure and discomfort.

“Who is Trevor Fegan of the Fegan family?”

The Baron’s heart tightened. He hurried forward, bowed, and said, “Respected… Lord Harvey, I am Trevor Fegan.” He paused, then quietly emphasized, “Baron Trevor Fegan.”

The moment the words left his mouth, he felt a prickle of unease. The man before him was a commoner without so much as a title, and while he was a Spellcaster, it was still galling to have to act so obsequiously toward him.

“Oh…” Harvey said, unimpressed, as he glanced back at the list in his hand. “Dakman Fegan… the Earl, is your…”

“My cousin, Lord. Earl Fegan, the current head of the Fegan family, is my cousin.”

“Well… I’m afraid he’s not the current head anymore,” Harvey quipped with a smile, causing the stoic Bloodline Warriors standing at attention to twist their faces as they suppressed their laughter. “As the instigators of this war, I assume I don’t need to explain the details of the battle and its outcome to you, do I?”

He paused, holding up the papers in his hand. “You should be glad you didn’t join Earl Fegan’s initial attack and chose not to resist stubbornly in a hopeless situation at the end, throwing your life away for nothing.”

Baron Trevor wiped the sweat from his brow and said in a low voice, “It was all my foolish cousin’s fault for so easily believing the slander of petty men. He coveted the non-existent gold mines and wealth in your fief, which is why… why he committed such an absurd and reckless act. I… I tried my utmost to advise him against it, but to no avail.”

Harvey let out a soft chuckle, his attitude noncommittal.

Baron Trevor quickly added, “I wonder how much ransom Your Lordship requires? Aside from the assets in the Earl’s Mansion family treasury, as long as it is something the Fegan family can still provide, we will do our best to meet your demands…”

He knew full well that the contents of the family treasury were already considered this lord’s property and could no longer be used as a bargaining chip or ransom for himself. However, the Fegan family had operated in Grizzly Bear Territory for generations and still had many other landed properties and vast tracts of farmland that could be sold off.

“I don’t need money,” Harvey said, shaking his head. “Nor am I interested in your lands or the businesses you run in Grizzly Keep.”

He turned his head and gestured for an attendant to hand a stack of prepared documents to Baron Trevor, explaining slowly, “Grain, livestock… and people. This is the price I require you to pay.”

Demanding grain and livestock was normal. Whenever minor skirmishes broke out between the noble lords of the south, the loser would end up compensating the victor with large sums of money and grain. During winter or spring, outside of the harvest season, livestock and horses were often used as substitutes if there wasn’t enough grain.

But… what did he mean by people? Did this pioneer lord need a large number of slaves to clear forests and wastelands for him? Thinking about it, it seemed plausible. After all, this was the Northern Barren Lands, a place known for being infertile.

“My Lord, grain and livestock are no problem. The various noble families can quickly gather them and deliver them to you. But as for people… do you require a large number of able-bodied serfs or freemen?”

Harvey took a sip of hot tea and said mildly, “Not just able-bodied men. I want artisans, farmers, hunters, fishermen…”

He pointed to the list in the baron’s hand. “Follow the numbers on this list and discuss it with the other captured nobles. Regardless of how you divide it among yourselves, you must gather five thousand people. These people must be handed over to me as family units within one month.”

An idea sparked in Baron Trevor’s mind. He immediately cast aside his noble decorum and sat cross-legged on the floor, spreading the stack of papers before him to read them in detail.

The population of Grizzly Keep was nearly ten thousand, and the surrounding fiefs of the vassal nobles had about the same number. Adding the population from the family’s branch businesses, gathering five thousand people was not actually that difficult. This lord had even specifically requested that the numbers be reported in family units, which meant that if a tenant farmer’s family had five members, they could all be counted toward the total.

Of course, he couldn’t just use tenant farmers to make up the five thousand. If he did, a vast amount of farmland would be left uncultivated come spring. He also couldn’t give away too many artisans. The family had lost nearly all its accumulated wealth in this defeat and desperately needed its industries to recuperate.

In a way, this lord of the barren lands, by demanding his fief’s population as ransom, had inadvertently done him a huge favor. Otherwise, given the current chaos in Grizzly Keep, the severely weakened Fegan family would have no way of controlling the situation in the city. Moreover, other nobles would be eyeing them covetously, like tigers watching their prey—a fat piece of meat that no longer had any authority or military backing.

He instantly realized that if he were given a few days, he could find ways to exploit this, to calculate the optimal configuration of people to hand over and satisfy the other party’s demands at the lowest possible cost.

“My Lord, could you grant me some time? Just three days will be enough,” Baron Trevor pleaded with a sincere expression.

Harvey nodded in agreement. “Then I’ll give you three days. And… you may return to Grizzly Keep to conduct your discussions. Except for the nobles who followed Earl Fegan on his campaign, all who surrendered willingly during the battle for Grizzly Keep may return first.”

Baron Trevor froze for a moment, his eyes wide in disbelief. “My lord? You mean… we can return to Grizzly Keep, pack some of our belongings and valuables, and then leave?”

He had originally thought the other party had left troops stationed in the city with the intention of occupying Grizzly Keep directly and expelling all the nobles. The baron had even made plans for his next move—the family owned a sizable villa manor in a small mountain town within Grizzly Bear Territory.

“Pack what valuables?” Harvey asked, puzzled. “There are nearly ten thousand people still living in Grizzly Keep. With all the noble officials responsible for managing the city gone, do you intend to leave this entire mess for me to clean up?”

He paused, seeming to understand the baron’s meaning, and said with some amusement, “You think I’m going to occupy Grizzly Keep directly? You’re not wrong. In the future, the only armed force in this city will be the army I dispatch. But the city’s operations and administration will still need someone to act on my behalf…”

Harvey stood up, his gaze sweeping over the assembled nobles below as he asked casually, “Gentlemen, do you believe that with the military might I possess, His Grace the Grand Duke of Goldshine City has the ability to confront me head-on?”

The nobles lowered their heads, trembling, secretly wiping the cold sweat from their brows, not daring to answer.

Harvey didn’t force them to state the obvious. He turned to Baron Trevor, who was at the front, and said with a faint smile, “Mr. Baron, I’ve heard that within the Fegan family, you are one of only two adult males besides the Earl, yet you were unjustly stripped of your right to inherit the title, is that correct?”

These words sent a tidal wave crashing through the baron’s heart.

It was true. The Fegan family was a military aristocracy that had risen through force and war. Countless men of the family had died on the battlefield over the generations. When Earl Fegan inherited the title, he was the last remaining son of the direct line. As his close cousin, Trevor should have been in the line of succession for the earldom. But the Earl himself thought otherwise. He seemed to favor his good-for-nothing illegitimate son, intending to groom him as the next Earl in defiance of the family’s ancestral customs.

A thought he hardly dared to believe suddenly surged in his mind. Once this seed of ambition was planted, it was impossible to suppress.

“Lord…” Baron Trevor found his voice trembling. He swallowed hard, clenched his fists, and said in a firm tone, “Regarding His Grace the Grand Duke of St. Valen’s declaration of war on the Federation of Casters, the Fegan family believes this to be an illegitimate and entirely unjustifiable act of a muddled ruler…”

“From this day forward, the Fegan family has decided to stand with the Federation. We will fully cooperate with you and the Spellcasters under your command to resist the invasion of the tyrant and the Church!”

After speaking, he knelt on one knee and performed the grand ceremony required when a vassal noble pledges fealty to a lord. The other minor nobles behind him quickly followed his example. Most of these men were also second sons or unfortunates far down the line of succession. After all, the true heads of their families had all followed Earl Fegan in his coalition army in pursuit of merit and profit, and were now languishing in the dungeons of Harvey’s territory, desperately awaiting ransom.

Harvey watched with great interest as the large crowd knelt before him, finding it all rather amusing.

He didn’t even hold the lowest rank of knight, yet he had so many true-born nobles swearing fealty to him. It seemed that compared to money and power, the relentless iron fist of war was more effective at “moving” people’s hearts.

He put on a show of walking down from the dais and helped the kneeling Baron Trevor to his feet with one hand, saying warmly, “There is no need for this. Justice resides in the hearts of the people. Since you all understand the erroneous actions of the Grand Duke of St. Valen and Earl Fegan, I will naturally not be too harsh on you… especially you, Mr. Baron. Hmm… my apologies. Perhaps the next time we meet, I should call you Earl Fegan.”

Chapter 295: A Debate on the Situation

“A carrot and a stick” was the plan Harvey and Astaren had long ago devised to handle the various nobles of Grizzly Keep.

After all, Grizzly Keep was physically too far from Harvey’s main base in the barren lands. Unless one traveled day and night using a flight spell or a Magic Motorcycle, a normal round trip by carriage would take at least a week.

If he were to treat it merely as a strategic defensive point like the River Valley Outpost, rotating troops to control the city wouldn’t be much trouble. But if he wanted to get deeply involved in the city’s administration, the cost Harvey would have to pay would be disproportionate to the gains.

Therefore, he needed a person or a family to act as his “agent.” This candidate had to be intimately familiar with the intricate web of powers within Grizzly Keep, be able to quickly pacify the chaotic situation following the great battle, and voluntarily become a “target” in the eyes of the other nobles, disrupting their old alliances on Harvey’s behalf and preventing them from uniting against him again.

In addition to demanding a certain number of people as the price to redeem their freedom, Harvey also required “Earl” Trevor, who would manage Grizzly Keep in his stead, to pay him thirty percent of the city’s operating tax revenue each quarter as a “protection fee.”

In exchange for this fee, the Northern Army would be permanently stationed in Grizzly Keep to defend against any punitive expedition from His Grace, the Grand Duke in the capital, Goldshine City. After all, by past precedent, for the Fegan family to maintain its rule over the fief, satisfying His Grace the Grand Duke required far more than just thirty percent of the tax revenue.

“Earl” Trevor was very satisfied with this deal. The once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to inherit the earldom, coupled with the actual managerial control of a city, would make him the most powerful figure in the entire St. Valen borderlands, second only to Harvey.

Seeking the backing of a powerful force was a wise choice for the long-term survival of a noble family. Compared to the distant Grand Duke of St. Valen in Goldshine City, a formidable lord of the barren lands right on their doorstep was clearly a better patron to align with.

After sending off “Earl” Trevor, who had been in a private meeting with him in the study for a long time, Harvey stretched and turned to Astaren, who had been standing by silently from beginning to end. “Well? Do you think his sincerity in this cooperation is acceptable?”

The deep crimson soul fire condensing in Astaren’s metal eye sockets slowly dissipated, indicating that he was disengaging from the alchemical lifeform’s “absolute rationality” mode. “He was mostly honest, but his expression and words carried an irrepressible greed. It seems this gentleman has coveted the Earl’s title for quite some time…”

“Haha, good. Compared to Earl Fegan’s stubborn loyalists, I much prefer someone who can be swayed by the temptations of power and profit…”

Astaren said slowly, “Those loyalists of the Earl, what are your plans for them?”

Harvey waved his hand and gave a casual order, “Send them to the mines and the logging camps. Those two places are always short on people. This kind of free labor is most welcome.”

He then stood up and said to his chief advisor, “Today, you will log into the Spellcaster Forum with me and listen in on this routine Forum gathering… They will be discussing the Church’s restarting of an all-out civil war with the Spellcasters. This is also very important to us.”

…

In fact, Harvey had received a message from Mr. Scorching Sovereign a week ago, informing him in advance of the content of today’s gathering. He knew very well that the other party was probing the Forum’s stance.

But once the gathering truly began, Harvey realized he had underestimated the impact of the current situation on all parties.

Even Mr. Hand of Elements, who was usually the first to offer opening remarks, had changed his consistently elegant manner of speaking.

【Hand of Elements: All praise to Mr. Turing and Mr. von Neumann! Good evening, everyone… The matter of the Church and the Federation of Casters restarting hostilities has now severely impacted the stability of numerous factions within the seven wizard kingdoms. Gentlemen, we must take this seriously!】

Harvey had previously used the Magic Net to locate these old members who were the first to join the Forum, so he knew that Mr. Hand of Elements was not an insider of the Federation but a member of a rather powerful neutral caster faction in one of the seven wizard kingdoms.

For even him to state the gravity of the situation so bluntly meant that the impact of the breached pact and the outbreak of full-scale conflict was already spiraling out of control.

【Ghost Captain: But from what I know, the current conflict is confined to a few small secular duchies in the central part of a continent. The Grand Duke of St. Valen was one of the first noble lords to formally declare war on the Federation. The Church did indeed dispatch a large number of troops, but they and Da’ers have only had two or three small-scale clashes.】

Mr. Ghost Captain was clearly an independent high-rank caster who kept to his own corner of the world. His location signal was consistently tracked to the coastal islands of Faros, the “Land of a Thousand Sails,” so it seemed his understanding of the current situation in the south wasn’t very clear.

The ever-irascible Son of Flame was much less polite in his speech.

【Son of Flame: Hmph, small-scale clashes? That’s because they are still wary of our strength. After all, during the recent battles in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, we achieved a completely one-sided, crushing victory while facing the Demons alone. Of course those holy rollers from Goris and the foolish nobles kneeling at their feet are afraid…】

Harvey didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Mr. Son of Flame’s political acumen was not particularly sharp. He didn’t seem to realize that it was precisely because the Federation chose to fight the Demons independently that the Church, in league with some secular kingdoms, had the opportunity to attack them. After all, fighting a war on two fronts meant the Federation couldn’t currently spare the manpower to deal with an enemy at its rear with its full attention.

However, his words did make Harvey understand the theme and true purpose of today’s gathering—the Federation faction, which constituted the majority in the Forum, wanted to probe the stance of the other non-Federation members and the various powers they represented. What was their position on this civil war initiated by the Church?

Of course, the most important thing was to coax out the Forum’s stance from its “agent,” Mr. Kel’Thuzad, to see if it would, as always, side with the Federation, which represented “Spellcasters.”

【Frost Giant: Regardless, we do not wish to see the flames of war reignited in the south. After all, it would harm the interests of the vast majority. The situation has been tense lately, and even the trade in magic stones and magical materials has been affected. Haven’t you all felt it?】

The Burrowing Dwarves’ intention to watch from the sidelines was made perfectly clear. Their race itself had a mix of beliefs; the vast majority of Dwarves adhered to the simple worship of their ancestral totem gods, with only a small, almost negligible portion having converted to the God of Glory.

Mr. “Heart of the Forest,” the High Elf who never bothered to hide his identity, also promptly declared his neutral stance.

【Heart of the Forest: The Golden Forest has never welcomed outsiders. Neither the Federation nor the Radiant Church is permitted to establish or develop their respective forces here. Therefore, we do not wish to participate in this internal power struggle among Humans.】

Though his words were true, Harvey was somewhat disdainful of the other’s proud and reserved attitude. He knew that the main market and buyers for the various magical plant materials and defensive magic artifacts that the High Elves were famous for producing were the very human spellcasters he spoke of.

Man in the Mirror and Spellshield, two members clearly marked with Federation backgrounds, spoke in turn, each expressing their pessimistic views on the situation. They insinuated that this was not merely a power struggle between the Federation and the Church, but a grave crisis facing all spellcasters. After all, wizards who pursue truth and the path of magic are naturally rejected by a Church that possesses faith in a deity, believing they blaspheme and have stolen the great authority of the Creator.

Unfortunately, this formulaic speech was rather clichéd and failed to easily sway the neutral parties in the Forum to change their stance.

Finally, it fell to the most authoritative member, the Legendary Caster Mr. Scorching Sovereign, to make what everyone would consider a reasonable proposal to set the tone for the gathering.

【The Scorching Sovereign: As for whether this superhuman civil war involving the Federation and the Church is merely a power struggle between two forces or a battle of truth between spellcasters and divine faith, I believe everyone will gradually see the answermore clearly as the situation develops… But right now, the Federation has shouldered the solemn duty of defending the south against the Demons all by itself. Is that not worthy of a certain degree of support and assistance from all of you in some aspects? At the very least, when facing an invasion by a non-human race, we should be in a cooperative relationship where we rise and fall together, should we not?】

These words were, in truth, a rather blatant slap in the face to some of the neutral members—when you relied on the Federation to gain benefits, you certainly didn’t have this current attitude of detached indifference. How is it that as soon as a conflict breaks out, you all start watching from the sidelines?

【The Scorching Sovereign: Our request is not excessive either… Since the secular kingdoms allied with the Church have chosen to expel all Federation caster organizations within their borders, should not the wizard kingdoms and our long-time amicable allies, the Dwarves and Elves, also make a gesture by closing all Church parishes, monasteries, and other missionary institutions within their spheres of influence? That shouldn’t be too difficult, would it?】

After the Legendary Caster finished speaking, the Forum gathering fell into a long-unseen silence. All the neutral parties were clearly still hesitating, and they were also clearly waiting to see if the Forum would step forward and express support for the Federation on their behalf, as an organization.

【Spellshield: @Mr. Kel’Thuzad, as the Forum’s real-world agent, what are your thoughts?】

Harvey’s eyebrows shot up. He knew the main event of today’s gathering had arrived, and he was clearly the main character.

【Kel’Thuzad: Hmm… We have always had a close and amicable working relationship with the Federation! Oh, by the way, you all have been so focused on the situation between the Federation and the Church lately that you might not be aware of a small conflict that broke out on the border within St. Valen…】

【Kel’Thuzad: The Grand Duke of St. Valen and the Radiant Church instigated a great feudal noble of an Earl’s rank to openly declare war on me under the pretext of ‘crusading against spellcasters’… He has now been defeated and killed. His vassal nobles have already sworn fealty to me and have also made their position clear by choosing to stand with the Federation from now on, assisting the spellcasters in the country against the baseless persecution by the Church and the nobility…】

Chapter 296: Forum Referendum

These words from the Forum agent, Kel’Thuzad, immediately sent waves through the gathering.

A conflict between a high noble of a border fief and a neighboring lord was, indeed, not something particularly noteworthy compared to the Grand Duke of St. Valen joining the Radiant Church to openly declare war on the Federation of Casters.

The Forum members deeply involved in this battle, “Eye of Illusion” and “the Astrologer,” were not members of the Federation’s faction themselves. Naturally, they wouldn’t have publicized the incident on the Forum without Harvey’s permission.

The “minor conflict on the border” Kel’Thuzad mentioned was, however, caused by the hostility of the Church and the secular nobility towards Spellcasters. It also showed that the enemy didn’t care whether their targets had direct ties to the Federation, but were instead targeting all independent Spellcasters with public identities.

Son of Flame, who had always been close to Harvey, was naturally very concerned about his situation and quickly sent a message.

[Son of Flame: Those bastard scum! Mr. Kel’Thuzad, what’s your current situation? Did the Church secretly send reinforcements from the Army of Judgment and their battle priests? Dammit! I can’t believe that after we withdrew all our Federation members from St. Valen, the Church would directly sic their feudal lords on you…]

Spellshield looked at the text on the crystal screen and couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh.

Even setting aside Son of Flame’s personal friendship with Kel’Thuzad, the mere fact that his only nephew was currently under the man’s protection was enough to make him frantic with worry. He feared that the young Durt had likely been forced to take part in the brutal battle as well.

But how on earth did he resist the combined assault of elite knights and the Church’s Judgment Army, defeat them so thoroughly, and even gather a group of vassal nobles?

Mr. “Agent” was indeed a high-level caster, but it was unlikely that even a research-type Spellcaster with a large number of mage squires under his command could easily win a direct confrontation against an enemy possessing the elite of the Army of Judgment and battle priests.

If someone claimed the Forum hadn’t secretly aided in this matter, Spellshield would never believe it.

[Spellshield: Thankfully, Mr. Kel’Thuzad successfully resolved this crisis… But this also proves a point to us all. The targets of the Church and the nobles and princes who have submitted to them are not just Spellcasters with Federation ties, but the entire community of Mages on the southern continent!]

The intention behind his words was blatant—the Forum’s agent has already been forced into this conflict. Does anyone here truly believe they can remain unscathed?

[Kel’Thuzad: Correct. Since opinions are divided, why don’t we follow the Forum’s established principle and hold a fair and impartial vote, letting all Forum members decide.]

[Son of Flame: I agree!]

[Man in the Mirror: Seconded!]

…

[Earth’s Favored: Before initiating the vote, I’d like to take the liberty of asking, Mr. Kel’Thuzad, does your stance… represent the Forum’s stance in this incident?]

Harvey smiled faintly. This veteran Forum member, who was clearly from the royal family of the Barkley Duchy and held the dual identity of a noble and a Spellcaster, had likely been wavering intensely in his stance recently.

It wasn’t just him. Many members tagged by Harvey as not having a Federation background were located in the capitals of various duchies or kingdoms across the southern continent. They clearly held high and noble positions and had, in the past, often invested in and hedged their bets between the Federation and the Church.

It was time to give them a strong dose of medicine and make them set their attitudes straight.

[Administrator Turing: The agent’s stance naturally represents the Forum’s stance. Although we do not interfere in the conflicts of the real world, hostile targets that harm the Forum’s interests must be dealt with in a timely manner…]

As soon as these words were spoken, the three Legendary Chiefs of the Federation immediately understood the implication and followed up with their own statements.

[The Scorching Sovereign: I agree with this vote and believe the Spellcasters of the south should unite to fight back against the civil war instigated by the Church!]

[Spirit Snatcher: I agree with the resolution!]

[Shadow Knight: I also agree!]

…

The Federation’s upper echelon, led by Spellshield and Son of Flame, all seconded the motion. Mr. Man in the Mirror, whose identity was more or less public, also expressed the Alchemical Exploration Society’s approval of the resolution.

[Hand of Elements: I… agree, but this represents only my own personal stance. As for the Seven Kingdoms’ Wizard Council… I will do my best to mediate and secure a certain degree of support for the Federation.]

Hand of Elements’ words were tantamount to directly exposing his real-world background, but in a way, it was also a sincere show of support for the Forum.

[Earth’s Favored: I agree as well! The Barkley Duchy will soon begin to expel the Church’s forces and shut down the large parishes and monastic organizations within its borders… As for the covert activities they’ve been secretly guiding their followers to conduct, we will also monitor them closely and be ready to cooperate with the Federation at any time.]

The meaning was clear: they would handle the public matters from their position as nobles, while the rats and cockroaches hiding in the shadows would be left for the Federation’s branch in Barkley to deal with… This was, at least, a clear and decisive statement of their stance.

[Ghost Captain: Agreed! Hehe, I may not have the ability to influence how the secular nobles and princes view this matter, but I can certainly cut off all of the Church’s recent trade in materials and transport of supplies in Faros.]

[Rock Titan: Agreed… Hollowhearth City will clean out the few scattered churches and follower organizations within the city. Effective immediately, the Church’s forces will also be banned from operating in the Breath of the Hills. In addition, we are willing to provide a batch of high-grade magic stones free of charge, hoping to help the Federation resist the attacks from the Church and its vassal kingdoms.]

Seeing that even their usually stingy Dwarven allies had spoken up, Heart of the Forest, representing the High Elves, quickly stated that although the east had always resisted the Church’s influence, they were also willing to support the Federation with a batch of strategic magical supplies as a show of goodwill.

Afterward, dozens of other Forum members also spoke up to participate in the vote on the resolution.

Some represented, either overtly or covertly, the approval of the organizations behind them, while others frankly expressed their support as independent Spellcasters. Throughout the entire process, not a single vote was cast in opposition or abstention.

Everyone knew full well—at least in this conflict between the Church and the Federation, the Spellcaster Forum had shown rare unity against a common enemy. Even the slightest voice of dissent would mean the immediate loss of one’s precious status as a Forum member, likely followed by being expelled on the spot.

Under the powerful deterrence of the mysterious organization behind the Spellcaster Forum, no one was willing to stand out and be made an example of.

Chapter 297: Grizzly Keep Police Department

After receiving the unanimous vote of all Forum members, the Federation was clearly much more confident. With the promised assistance of various powers, it took the initiative to propose dispatching a Mage Corps, composed mainly of mid-rank Spellcasters from Da’ers and the neighboring wizard kingdoms, to secretly infiltrate the border regions of St. Valen and harass the Church’s Judgment Army forces in the area.

The main purpose of this battle plan was to tie up the Church’s attention, preventing them from freeing up their hands to continue targeting Harvey’s border territory. This would allow him to completely consolidate his control over the newly cleared Grizzly Bear Territory, creating a vacuum of Church power deep behind St. Valen’s lines.

“The Federation is planning to wage a protracted magical guerrilla war against the Church and the nobility within my sphere of influence…”

He had merely used his identity as the organization behind the Forum to verbally endorse the Federation, and they had immediately grasped the implied meaning and offered a price that he found rather satisfactory. Securing the assistance of a battle-hardened, mid-rank Mage Corps that could operate deep within the border regions would, at the very least, allow Harvey’s army, which was primarily composed of ordinary civilians, to reduce many unnecessary casualties in their daily military operations. As the battle for Grizzly Keep had shown, the ones who inflicted the most damage on his soldiers were the Spellcasters under the nobles, the bloodline knights of the Church’s Judgment Army, and the battle priests.

Having settled the matter of the Forum’s public vote, Harvey finally breathed a small sigh of relief.

His next main objectives were to organize the newly conquered Grizzly Keep and decide how to deal with the surviving immediate family and loyal vassals of the former Earl Fegan…

The released Baron Trevor Fegan could only take with him the relatives from his branch of the family. The former Earl Fegan’s wife, illegitimate son, and several daughters remained in Harvey’s custody, a situation he believed Baron Trevor would be more than happy to see. Without any heirs to the title in either law or bloodline, he could more justifiably claim the rank of Earl and manage Grizzly Keep for Harvey with all his heart.

As for the battle that had erupted outside Jackdaw Town, Harvey released all the civilians who had been coerced into fighting. However, the mercenaries who had hoped to profit from the war received far less favorable treatment.

These opportunists, who often posed as bandits and robbers during peacetime, were quickly divided among Harvey’s mines, logging camps, and the Garrison Corps’ farms. Fifteen years of hard labor would be their best fate.

Pierce personally led a squad of Bloodline Warriors to turn the Earl’s Mansion upside down. The search yielded quite impressive results. From the Earl’s family treasury in the cellar alone, they carried out five or six chests of gold pounds, amounting to about twenty to thirty thousand coins. Although it was a minor currency minted by the St. Valen Duchy, the gold was of excellent quality. In addition, the treasury contained a large number of gems, antiques, and a dazzling array of jewelry.

What surprised Harvey the most was that Tommy, the Captain of his personal guard who had awakened the “Weakness Insight” talent, had discovered a completely unknown secret room in the Earl’s study. Inside, besides dozens of high-grade magic stones and several boxes of magic potions, was a complete, gleaming new suit of enchanted armor. Judging from the insignia and inscriptions on the armor’s lining, it was not a mid-rank defensive magic artifact produced by the Federation, but a magical legacy from an ancient wizard family.

The Fegan family, who had managed the Grizzly Bear Territory for generations, was truly wealthy.

Thinking about how this immense fortune had fallen into his hands, Harvey couldn’t help but marvel at the allure of wartime plunder. It was no wonder the nobles and royals had reveled in their constant warring with each other for hundreds of years.

However, the gold pounds and jewelry would only pass through Harvey’s hands briefly before being funneled into the territory’s City Hall budget for importing food and scarce resources. After all, in a few days, he would be welcoming another five thousand laborers, and the territory’s population was about to exceed twenty thousand.

…

Senior Police Superintendent Yuliao of the Police Department hurried to the castle, awaiting the new work orders the Lord was about to issue.

“I heard City Hall had you dispatch a police squad to Grizzly Keep to assist the Northern Army garrison?”

Yuliao stood ramrod straight before the desk, habitually straightening his collar with one hand. “Yes, My Lord,” he replied seriously. “The Military Command has fewer than five hundred soldiers stationed in Grizzly Keep. Besides guarding the three main city gates, they simply don’t have the manpower to control the situation within the city…”

He paused and continued, “After most of our forces withdrew from Grizzly Keep, the city has fallen into a state of unmanaged chaos. There have been numerous riots by criminals and gang members, as well as a great deal of looting, robbery, and theft. Therefore, I’ve arranged for fifty police officers to go and take over the law enforcement duties of the original City Guard patrols.”

It had to be said that Mr. Yuliao, a former Probationary Knight, had fully demonstrated his professional initiative in the little over a year he had served Harvey. Not only had he proposed several constructive suggestions, but he had also actively cooperated with the work of City Hall and the military, earning Harvey’s increasing satisfaction.

“There’s no need to wait for City Hall’s approval process. You will depart for Grizzly Keep immediately to take charge. On my order, you will formally establish a branch of the Police Department. Select a few officers you deem suitable for promotion… and at the same time, begin selecting some local civilians with clean backgrounds and upstanding character. Train them as quickly as possible to join the branch.”

At this, Harvey rubbed the stubble on his chin and slowly recalled, “You’ve cultivated a group of experienced undercover officers in the territory’s Police Department, haven’t you? From what I hear, their work and performance have been excellent.”

A faint blush appeared on Yuliao’s face as he said modestly, “Following your earlier idea for plainclothes officers, it’s thanks to them that we’ve rooted out quite a few hidden spies and rats from the territory… agents sent by neighboring nobles, opportunistic merchants trying to resell our goods, and local residents who colluded with the Church against us.”

Harvey nodded and instructed, “This undercover unit needs to be established in Grizzly Keep as well, and you must be personally responsible for it. I will authorize you to request several sets of two-way magical communication devices to facilitate rapid intelligence and message transmission between the two locations…”

A hint of joy appeared on Yuliao’s usually business-like face. Just as he was about to thank Harvey, an even more pleasant surprise popped out of Harvey’s mouth.

“A while ago, weren’t you petitioning me to equip the entire Police Department with the same standard-issue magical energy weapons as the army?”

Harvey took a rectangular box from his desk drawer, pushed it in front of the Senior Police Superintendent, and encouraged him, “Open it and have a look. This is a brand-new law enforcement weapon custom-designed by the munitions factory and the Alchemy Laboratory, just for you—the magical energy revolver.”

Chapter 298: The Magical Revolver

“A magical energy… revolver?” Yuliao repeated Harvey’s words in confusion, subconsciously looking at the rectangular wooden box placed before him.

Judging by the container’s size, it certainly didn’t hold a modified Magical Energy Gun. Although Yuliao himself had only used one a few times, he knew very well that the full length of the gun was nearly a meter, and the longer-range sniper model was over one meter and twenty centimeters. Each use required assembling the separated stock, magazine, and barrel.

At this thought, the Senior Police Superintendent eagerly lifted the lid of the wooden box and stared blankly at the strangely shaped… pistol before him. Its trigger and barrel structure were very similar to the Magical Energy Gun, only slightly smaller. However, in the middle of the frame where the magazine should have been, a peculiar honeycomb-shaped device protruded.

The “pistol” was heavy in his hand. The grip was made of clearly well-polished wood, smooth and comfortable to the touch, fitting his palm perfectly. Aside from the grip, the entire body was made of metal. The honeycomb device in the middle and the surface of the barrel at the front were, like the Magical Energy Gun, engraved with countless tiny mana runes. Paired with the original silvery-white metallic luster, it gave the entire weapon an indescribable mechanical aesthetic.

Yuliao switched the “pistol” to the arm with his mechanical prosthetic and was stunned to find that the metal limb seemed to be an even more suitable fit for the weapon than his real one.

He absolutely loved this weapon! In an instant, he felt like he couldn’t bear to put it down.

“Alright, stop studying its appearance. This is the magical revolver I was talking about… a light weapon that can be fired with just one hand.” Harvey stood up with a smile and took the revolver back from Yuliao. “I’ll teach you how to use it correctly, but you’ll have to achieve shooting accuracy through repeated training on your own…”

Watching the Lord’s somewhat unfamiliar demonstration, Yuliao quickly discovered that the revolver’s operation was almost identical to the Magical Energy Gun’s. You raised the muzzle and pulled the trigger for continuous fire. The only difference was that the bullets weren’t pre-loaded into a detachable magazine. Instead, you had to manually load them one by one into the honeycomb structure in the middle of the gun’s frame.

So the honeycomb device was the magazine. The five holes in the honeycomb could be loaded with five rounds at a time. This was probably why the Lord had called it a “revolver.”

“The design of this weapon is truly ingenious. I’ve never seen such a…” Yuliao opened his mouth but didn’t know how to describe this metal magical weapon, which was forged to be almost seamless.

Harvey chuckled. “Don’t get too excited. This is still a flawed, unfinished version… There’s a key technology that the munitions factory and the Alchemy Laboratory haven’t been able to solve yet. If you weren’t about to head to Grizzly Keep to establish a new Police Department, I wouldn’t have issued it to you so quickly.”

“Flawed? An unfinished version?” Yuliao carefully took the revolver, holding it and examining it again. “My Lord, if I may be so bold, I can’t see any flaws at all. Is the power of the magic ammunition weaker?”

“The ammunition is fine… It’s mainly the firing range. It’s effective range is less than one hundred meters, which means when you’re attacking with it, you must get as close to the target as possible.”

Its range was a full half shorter than the Magical Energy Gun’s. This was the main design flaw the magical revolver currently faced. Because it was too compact and small, Harvey and Chris couldn’t inscribe too many mana runes on its frame. They were forced to completely remove the “Amplification” and “Compression” runes used on the Magical Energy Gun, retaining only the stabilizing effect of the “Balance” rune. As a result, it was completely incompatible with the standard-issue magic bullets currently in mass-production at the munitions factory and required smaller pistol bullets filled with less magical energy.

Yuliao couldn’t understand the Lord’s profound magical theories. He just said happily, “I don’t think that’s a problem at all. Just give me some time to train the officers, and a hundred meters is more than enough for us to quickly take down our enemies.”

After all, no matter how vicious criminals and thugs were, even when fighting the police officers face-to-face, they couldn’t withstand the steel fists and metal legs of the “RoboCop” officers, who made up over thirty percent of the Police Department.

…

Harvey then took the Senior Police Superintendent to the small shooting range in the castle’s basement. He had him stand thirty meters from a human-shaped target and, in the one-handed stance he had been taught, turn his body slightly, aim the pistol at the target, and pull the trigger.

The compact magical revolver’s frame instantly lit up with the faint glow of runes. After a soft zzzt, the honeycomb cylinder rotated one chamber, revealing an empty slot.

The group went closer and found the human-shaped target completely unscathed…

“Tsk…” Harvey shook his head, speechless. “Keep shooting.”

Yuliao’s face flushed red. He took a deep breath and quickly fired the remaining four rounds. One of them finally hit the target’s leg, but it seemed to be mostly due to luck.

Tommy, the personal guard captain standing by, couldn’t help but let out a snort, but he immediately covered his mouth to stifle his laughter. This earned him a glare from Yuliao, who turned his head to stare daggers at him—What’s someone with a broken ability like ‘Weakness Insight’ got to be so smug about?

Harvey patted the young police superintendent’s shoulder comfortingly. “You see? Because of its short barrel and small size, a pistol’s range and accuracy are inferior to a magical energy rifle’s. The bullets are also smaller than the magic rifle bullets. Missing is perfectly normal… That’s why you’ll need more time to practice repeatedly, or this weapon won’t be very effective.”

Ashamed and guilty, Yuliao stood there thinking for a few seconds before clenching his jaw. “My Lord, give me a month… no, give me two weeks. I’ll have the officers of the Police Department familiarize themselves with and master this weapon as quickly as possible. I absolutely won’t let down the hard work you and Mr. Chris put into its design and development!”

Harvey nodded. “I’ll write an authorization slip for you. Go find Chris and the munitions factory director first to receive ten magical revolvers and the spare ammunition you’ll need for daily training…”

…

Clutching Harvey’s special authorization slip as if it were a priceless treasure, Yuliao hurried away. Tommy sidled up to Harvey with a grin. “My Lord, can our personal guard be issued this weapon too? In an emergency or a surprise attack, this pistol is much more useful than the Magical Energy Gun on our backs… At the very least, we can draw it from our waists immediately to engage the enemy.”

Harvey paused for a moment, looking at the several personal guards beside him who were drooling over the magical revolver. He then imagined them wearing holsters for the guns and suddenly slapped his forehead. “Crap, I forgot to design a safety mechanism for this thing. What if it accidentally discharges while holstered at the waist…”

As he spoke, he subconsciously glanced between Tommy’s legs, startling his own personal guard captain into taking a few steps back.

Chapter 299: The Atypical Knight

“Hey! Hey! Up you get! Mealtime!” The jailer rapped on the iron bars of the cell door, passing several meal boxes through the square window in the middle.

Anbiki’s bunk was near the cell door, so he took the stack of meal boxes and handed them out to the others.

Lifting the lids, they found that today’s lunch was mushy potatoes soaked in broth and boiled wheat rice. Everyone couldn’t help but sigh in unison.

It had been well over half a month since they were defeated by the army of the Northern Realm’s pioneer lord outside Jackdaw Town and brought here for imprisonment.

Anbiki had initially worried that being sent to the Northern Barren Lands for imprisonment would mean freezing to death in his cell within a few days in the bitter cold of winter, but it now seemed that death was still some distance away.

The conditions in this cell were much better than the rumored cold, damp dungeons of Grizzly Keep—there were wooden bunk beds, with thick layers of straw and a blanket on top, and it was completely free of drafts and leaks.

Locked in the cell with him were two other minor nobles, also from Grizzly Keep. Both were sons of vassal families under Earl Fegan, and one was even the legitimate heir to a barony.

Anbiki himself, by contrast, was not of such noble standing. His father was merely a knight from the Earl’s family knight order who had retired early due to injury. Half a lifetime of fighting for the Fegan family had earned him only a non-hereditary barony and a lame leg that would never allow him to mount a warhorse again.

“Damn it! How much longer are we going to be locked up? Haven’t my foolish brother and mother gathered the ransom yet?” the oldest of the minor nobles cursed under his breath, tossing his meal aside. “Eating this slop, worse than what’s fed to pigs and dogs, every single day is an insult!”

Anbiki glanced at him covertly and muttered to himself that pigs and dogs didn’t eat nearly this well. They were usually fed a concoction of boiled cassava tubers and rotten fruits and vegetables, which was far more disgusting than the food before them.

The baron’s heir shot the older noble a look and sneered, “Ransom? Do you really think this pioneer lord will spare our lives, wait for us to be ransomed, and let us rally an army to seek revenge? Hmph, when Earl Fegan’s head was brought to our cells for display a few days ago, wasn’t his intention obvious enough?”

The minor noble’s eyes widened in terror. “What do you mean? Is this barren lands lord really audacious enough to… to execute every single noble he’s captured?”

He stood up and began to pace nervously back and forth in the small cell, which was less than ten square meters. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, he threw himself against the cell door, thrusting his head as close to the iron window as he could, and began to shout and beg, “Someone! Someone! Please, let me see the Lord! I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!”

The baron’s heir spat on the ground and cursed, “Cowardly fool! We are honorable knights under the Earl, not some vile, lowly mercenaries! Look at you now, you’re a complete disgrace to the nobility!”

With that, he cursed and grabbed the minor noble, raising his fist to smash it into his face.

Anbiki quickly stepped forward to pull them apart, whispering a warning, “Stop! Don’t fight. If you attract the jailers, it won’t end well for any of us.”

The baron’s heir narrowed his eyes, sizing Anbiki up, and sneered, “Well, well, the Shepherd Knight of the Kenny family from Mill Town. What’s this? You don’t seem worried that your life is in their hands?”

Accustomed to being ridiculed, Anbiki sighed and patiently explained, “I’ve been observing for a while. The knights and nobles who were captured with us, the ones who made the most noise, were the first to be taken from their cells, never to return… They must have received harsh sentences, perhaps they’ve already been hanged on the gallows. But look at the three of us… we’re neither the Earl’s loyal confidants nor did we resist stubbornly in a hopeless situation. We probably won’t be given the death penalty.”

The baron’s heir was silent for a moment, then nodded. “Fair enough. What you say makes sense.”

The terrified minor noble finally let out a sigh of relief and moved away from the cell door, lying back down on his wooden bed, though his face remained pale.

Seeing this, Anbiki also sat down with his back against the wall and pulled a rough blanket over his shoulders.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t afraid to die, but he felt that begging would be useless. It was better to accept his situation and wait for heaven and the new lord to decide his fate.

Anbiki knew his own limitations perfectly well. He really wasn’t cut out to be a knight. If his disabled father hadn’t clung to the delusion of restoring the family’s fortunes and forced him to join the Earl’s coalition army, he would have much preferred spending time with his herds of livestock, riding his horse freely across the pastures outside Mill Town every day.

Because of this, he was known as a good-for-nothing among the other knights and minor nobles, naturally earning him the insulting nickname ‘Shepherd Knight.’ During charges, the Knight Commander always placed him at the very back, but by a strange twist of fate, this had ended up saving his life.

The jailer who had just delivered lunch suddenly returned, approaching the cell door and calling out, “Anbiki Kenny? An official from the City Hall wants to see you!”

It’s over! One moment he was consoling the others, and the next it was his turn to be taken away. He didn’t know if he was being led to judgment and punishment, or to his family with the ransom…

Anbiki couldn’t help but tremble slightly as he forced himself to get up from the floor and walk out of the cell.

He was led by a young soldier dressed in a thick, black, wool-lined uniform and a pair of polished leather boots. Slung across his back was one of those strange, silver metal pikes—the very things that had led to the Earl’s army’s crushing defeat.

After stepping out of the cell, Anbiki’s hands were shackled with a chain as usual, and a cloth was tied over his eyes. He could only stumble blindly along, following the soldier at the other end of the chain. For some reason, however, the roads in this barren lands territory were exceptionally smooth, so there was no fear of tripping and falling.

The walk was quite long, and Anbiki couldn’t resist asking in a low voice, “Excuse me, soldier, where… where are you taking me? Am I to be condemned without a trial?”

A calm voice replied from ahead, “Who said anything about condemning you? I’m just responsible for taking you to see the Steward from City Hall. Don’t ask any more questions.”

Anbiki wisely kept his mouth shut. These soldiers felt very strange to him. Judging by their accents, they seemed to be refugees from the barren lands, and their dress and appearance were nothing like people from the south. Yet they showed no fear of nobles at all. On the contrary, they carried themselves with a condescending pride, as if they, not he, were the honorable knights of distinguished birth.

Though he couldn’t see as they walked, he could hear the conversations and hurried footsteps of many passersby, as well as the crisp ringing of bells from time to time, and even the occasional laughter of children. But this was the dead of winter. Shouldn’t the common folk be huddled in their simple homes for warmth, doing everything they could to scrimp and save to survive the fruitless days? Why did he feel that everything around him was so full of life, as if spring had arrived?

Full of questions, he was finally led into the lobby of what seemed to be a spacious and bustling building. Then, prompted by the soldier, he fumbled his way upstairs and into a private study.

When the blindfold was removed, before Anbiki could even adjust to the sudden harsh light, he squinted and stumbled back several steps in fright.

Sitting behind the desk in front of him was a tall, terrifying humanoid monster made entirely of metal and machinery. On its silver-white metal skull, crystalline blue flames flickered within two dark, empty eye sockets.

“You are Anbiki Kenny?”

Chapter 300: Rehabilitation Through Labor

“This is Lord Rainer, the Steward of the territory’s City Hall. He is a spellcaster who serves the Lord…” A secretary supported Anbiki, who was stumbling backward in fear, and whispered this into his ear.

Anbiki finally came to his senses, swallowing hard and nodding. So, he was a spellcaster. Well… it wasn’t strange for a spellcaster to look like anything, really. After all, they always seemed quite mad.

“Anbiki Kenny, a knight of the Kenny family from Mill Town in Grizzly Bear Territory?” Rainer didn’t look up, still flipping through the identity files of the captured nobles as he asked casually.

A spellcaster’s status was equivalent to a noble’s, so Anbiki naturally didn’t need to kneel on one knee as he would before a lord. He placed a hand over his chest and replied, “Yes, Mr. Steward, that is I.”

So this lord of the barren lands had so many spellcasters pledged to him. Besides the man before him who had transformed his body to resemble a machine, Anbiki had also glimpsed, in the chaos of the battlefield outside Jackdaw Town, two terrifying figures flying through the sky. No wonder they could lead a group of common soldiers without even armor to easily defeat the Fegan family, who had been entrenched in the border territories of St. Valen for decades.

Rainer nodded and continued his questioning. “You should have no problems with reading and writing, correct? I’ve heard it’s a prerequisite for becoming a knight.”

“Of course, Mr. Steward. I have learned to read and write. Although I am not from a prominent family, I did receive a traditional knight’s education.” As he said this, Anbiki couldn’t help but mutter inwardly that while he was indeed quite good at cultural etiquette, his horsemanship, archery, and swordsmanship were rather lacking.

This was mainly because in recent decades, St. Valen, an inland Duchy in the north-central part of the continent, had not experienced many external wars or non-human race invasions. Fewer and fewer nobles and knights were ennobled for military merit, leading to the younger generation, like Anbiki, having little battlefield experience. They were valued more by their feudal lords for their extensive knowledge and impeccable etiquette.

Rainer nodded again, pulling the page with Anbiki’s name from a stack of files. His tone was somewhat mocking as he said, “Your father, Baron Kenny, believes that as a knight under Earl Fegan, you should have died with your defeated lord to display the glory and determination of a knight’s fealty… Heh heh, in short, he is unwilling to pay the ransom for your freedom.”

“What?! My father… Father… but I…”

Anbiki could hardly believe his ears. His mind was a tangled mess. He couldn’t believe that his own father would choose to abandon his son’s life just to show his loyalty to the already deceased Earl Fegan.

Pedantic! Cold-blooded! Foolish!

The young knight felt his heart sink. He knew all too well the fate of a forced loyalist of the Earl—nothing more than the noose of the gallows or toiling to death in heavy shackles in a lightless mine.

Fortunately, the spellcaster steward’s next words gave him a new glimmer of hope.

“You now have two choices. Either, according to the territory’s laws, you will be sent to the Mining Area to serve fifteen years of hard labor as a miner to atone for your crimes, or you can be stripped of your knightly title and become a farm worker in the pioneer territories.”

The secretary handed Anbiki a work contract. “The territory’s workers are not hard laborers or slaves; they have the status of freemen. The work comes with a salary, and you even get four days off each month. However, given your past actions, we will deduct a portion of your monthly salary to cover your ransom. In other words, you can work to buy back your own freedom.”

Anbiki held his breath and squinted, carefully reading the “work contract” in his hands. He found the terms and conditions surprisingly generous and lenient. Apart from not being able to leave the barren lands at will, he would even have his own single room. Although rent would also be deducted from his salary, it was much better than being shackled in a cell, crammed together with three or four other people.

Furthermore, this position as a farm worker came with a monthly salary of 80 gold yuan—which appeared to be the denomination of a currency privately minted by the lord of this barren land. After deducting rent and the ransom installment, there was still a considerable amount left for his own disposal.

Anbiki did a quick mental calculation and realized that as long as he worked diligently, he could pay off the ransom for his freedom in just two or three years. He wouldn’t have to rely on his selfish father to save him at all.

He couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. Compared to being hanged or subjected to hard labor, this was the best possible option.

“Mr. Steward, I choose to work for the Lord, to earn a salary to buy back my freedom… It’s just that I don’t quite understand. The job of a farm worker doesn’t seem suitable for me. I have absolutely no experience tending to fields.”

Rainer laughed heartily and pointed at the file in his hand. “Didn’t you used to love herding your family’s cattle and sheep back in Mill Town? Why else would they have given you the nickname ‘Shepherd Knight’? You should have some experience raising livestock, shouldn’t you? Or do you have other skills you’re proficient in?”

“Of course! Besides herding sheep, I can also fish for trout!” The moment the words left his mouth, Anbiki regretted it. It was bad enough that a knight wasn’t skilled in archery or swordsmanship, but what kind of skill was fishing? If word got out, he’d probably earn a new insulting title: “Fishing Knight.”

Rainer, however, didn’t seem to mind. He asked with considerable interest, “Oh? You can fish? My, my. The work in the fishery department’s fishing squad would actually suit you well… Well, you choose. Both the Livestock Group and the Fishery Group are very short-staffed right now.”

The thought of working two jobs at once popped into Anbiki’s head. He couldn’t help but start chattering on, showcasing his extensive experience in his unconventional hobbies. “When it comes to herding cattle and sheep, if you just rely on shepherds to drive them to graze freely in open pastures, their growth is entirely at the mercy of the heavens. In a bad year when the pastures are barren, the herds will even slow their own reproduction rate to maintain the herd size and ensure sufficient food… Don’t be fooled into thinking they’re just unintelligent livestock; their survival instincts in this regard are no worse than ours.”

Seeing that Mr. Steward was listening intently, he paused and continued, “Therefore, I believe it’s most appropriate to set aside several fixed pastures and use a rotational grazing system. In autumn and winter, it’s essential to supplement their diet with some grain to help them build up fat to withstand the cold weather. Also… I’ve noticed these animals lick the natural salt crystals that form on rocks, which indicates it’s a necessity for their survival. If we could proactively provide the herds with some coarse salt, their appetites would improve significantly…”

Then, he went on at length about how he had trained several hunting dogs, using whistles as commands to have them assist in herding the sheep, which saved him a great deal of running around. He also described how, when a ewe or cow had a difficult birth, he would command his serfs to assist the pregnant animals.

The long-winded speech left Rainer momentarily stunned, but then he couldn’t help but start clapping.

“Excellent, excellent! It seems my lord Harvey was right. Not all of you nobles are useless fools who only know how to brandish swords and exploit commoners… It seems sending you to the Agriculture Department’s Livestock Group as an ordinary worker would be a waste of your talents.”

He scratched his smooth, metallic head, tore off a slip of paper, and began writing furiously. After a few strokes, he stamped it with his seal and handed it to the secretary, who then passed it to Anbiki.

The Shepherd Knight took it and looked closely. Written on it was—

Agriculture Department, Livestock Group, Recommendation for Trainee Deputy Group Leader: Anbiki Kenny.

Taking a Day Off to Go Home for National Day

Taking a day off to go home for National Day!

I’m planning to take a day off during the National Day holiday to go back to my hometown and spend some time with my parents and grandma.

I wish everyone a happy holiday as well. Go out for a walk, spend time with your family, meet up with friends, and enjoy the festivities with plenty of food and drink!

Chapter 301: The Ailing Visitor from Afar

“By the Arcane! What a brand new and vibrant city!”

The high-rank Alchemist with the Forum handle “Mithril Unicorn,” Benoit Kevin, slowly pushed the elderly man in the wheelchair down from the alchemical vehicle. Following behind him were Ms. “the Astrologer” and Mr. “Eye of Illusion.”

Although Benoit’s group had arrived in Jackdaw Town two days prior, they still abided by the proper etiquette among Spellcasters. They had Eye of Illusion submit a formal request to visit to the agent, and only after receiving permission did they set out for the pioneer territories.

Eye of Illusion looked down at his teacher, Duncan, whose face was ashen but expression calm, and explained in a gentle voice, “This pioneer territory, located in the Northern Barren Lands, is owned by a powerful and mysterious young high-level caster… We’ve all joined a certain secret organization of casters, which I believe Benoit has mentioned to you over the past few days…”

Duncan narrowed his eyes, gazing at the host approaching them in the distance. He said softly, “I am not an internal member of your organization. There is no need to tell me too much, to avoid offending the powerful existence behind it…”

A cold gust of wind mixed with snowflakes assailed him, making him choke and cough several times. After catching his breath, he continued, “You three… have paid too high a price for my sake. To risk contact with this kind of secret organization, the danger involved is truly… It makes me, your teacher, feel ashamed, cough cough…”

“The Astrologer,” Melissa, frowned with a touch of pity. Just as she was about to offer a few words of comfort, the person approaching them called out a greeting from afar.

“Mr. Eye of Illusion! Ms. the Astrologer!”

Chris, the director of the Alchemy Laboratory, walked up with exceptional warmth. He grasped the cold, one-armed hand of the old man, Duncan, in the wheelchair and said earnestly, “My sincerest apologies. Police Superintendent Yuliao, who was in charge of receiving you, is away on business. The Lord temporarily assigned me to take his place and arrange your itinerary.”

Eye of Illusion had met this free-spirited Alchemist once on his previous visit to the territory. He now politely introduced his companions who were visiting for the first time.

“Mr. Chris, do you know when the Lord will have time to see us? And… my teacher’s limb transplant surgery…”

Chris waved his hand dismissively and made an inviting gesture with a smile. “No need to wait. My lord Harvey gave me instructions in advance. Let’s head to the Laboratory right away. If Mr. Duncan’s physical condition permits, we can begin the surgery immediately!”

…

The group soon arrived at the independent Alchemy Laboratory that Chris was in charge of. After a short rest, they saw the young Spellcaster Lord, Harvey, hurry over with a squad of Bloodline Warriors and two tall alchemical constructs.

“Apologies, I’ve been a bit tied up with official business…” Harvey’s gaze swept the room before settling on the gray-haired old man hunched in the wheelchair. He smiled and stepped forward to shake his hand. “You must be Mr. Duncan. Welcome to the pioneer territories.”

The lower half of Duncan’s body, covered by a blanket, was empty from the knees down. A shawl was draped over his right shoulder to cover the wound of his severed limb. He extended his sole remaining left hand to clasp Harvey’s warm ones and said softly, “I haven’t yet had the chance to thank you, and the organization behind you, for your generous assistance.”

Harvey waved his hand, unconcerned. “Your three students have already paid the required price,” he said gently. “This all follows the principle of equivalent exchange. Please don’t worry about it…”

At a signal from Harvey, Egnor stepped forward. Taking an alchemical device inlaid with a pale green magic stone from an assistant physician, he said politely, “Please allow me to examine Mr. Duncan first to confirm that his condition can withstand the upcoming transplant surgery.”

Eye of Illusion and the others nodded and helped lift their teacher, Duncan, onto the examination table. Their eyes were fixed intently on Egnor and his team as they busily began the various checks.

“The mana channels in the main torso are not severely damaged, but Mr. Duncan probably hasn’t performed guided meditation in a long time. His mana reserves are limited, and the channels show slight signs of depletion and atrophy…”

“The wounds on all three severed limbs show some degree of festering. Tsk tsk, the suturing of the wounds was a bit careless. The healer seemed to think that merely using healing potions and flesh-regrowing potions would be enough for the wounds to recover completely…”

Standing to the side, Benoit’s face instantly flushed red. He opened his mouth but was too embarrassed to defend himself. He was indeed not a professional healing-type Spellcaster; when it came to treating his teacher’s injuries, all he could do was rely on massive doses of alchemical potions to buy more time.

Taking advantage of a pause in the examination, Harvey once again explained to Duncan the surgical risks he had previously discussed with Eye of Illusion.

After listening in silence, Duncan let out a few self-deprecating laughs and said lightly, “Triple the surgical risk? Is the less risky alternative to only restore one arm? To spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair… I’m afraid I cannot accept that.”

Eye of Illusion moved closer, his voice fraught with worry. “Teacher, that’s the safest option. With both hands restored, you can still cast spells and conduct magical experiments. It’s just the minor inconvenience of needing a wheelchair to get around. Melissa, Benoit, and I can all stay by your side forever…”

“A minor inconvenience?” Duncan’s eyes widened, and he began to cough as if holding his breath. “Have you ever seen a shapeshifting Mage capable of performing high-rank shapeshifting magic with crippled limbs?”

Benoit also drew near and muttered in a low voice, “But Lord Harvey also said that even if we successfully attach all three alchemical prosthetics, there’s no hundred percent guarantee that your limbs won’t mutate during the shapeshifting process… That’s not your own flesh and blood, it’s solid metal!”

Duncan shot his student a glare before turning to Harvey. “Lord, if I choose to have all the procedures done, what price would I have to pay for that? Please, state your terms… I will do my best to meet them.”

This master of shapeshifting magic seemed to have some obsession that could only be fulfilled by regaining his limbs; otherwise, he would not be so stubborn and unyielding on this matter.

Seeing this, Harvey shook his head with a sense of helplessness and said slowly, “First, you will naturally need to join our Spellcaster Forum, just like Mr. Eye of Illusion and the others. This isn’t really a price for you to pay; I trust you will later understand the benefits and returns…”

“As for the surgery… it is in itself part of an experimental study. As the first subject to undergo this experiment, the risks you bear and the experimental data we obtain from it will count as a large part of your payment…”

As soon as these words were spoken, everyone understood Harvey’s meaning.

To have a high-level caster serve as an experimental subject for a magical research project was something that not even the upper echelons of the Federation of Casters could accomplish easily. The experimental data and research results that could be obtained were naturally of inestimable value—this was a far cry from experimenting on demonic beasts and non-human races of low intelligence; the quality of the research feedback was utterly incomparable.

Chapter 302: Heteromorphic Limb Transplant Surgery

“Heteromorphic limbs? This…” The Eye of Illusion looked at the row of alchemical prosthetics hanging on the experimental rack, momentarily stunned into silence.

There were six metallic, crab-like limbs; a foldable, mechanical mantis arm connected to an artificial spine; a wheeled lower torso designed to connect at the chest…

You wouldn’t even need the Priests from the Church to declare judgment; even Spellcasters would consider these things heretical creations.

“Is this… the backup surgical plan you told me about?” The Eye of Illusion glanced at his teacher and swallowed hard. “With all due respect, these prosthetics don’t look safe at all…”

Harvey nodded in understanding and slowly explained, “These prosthetic structures were specially designed to reduce surgical risks. Compared to humanoid prosthetics, which are difficult for the host to integrate and assimilate, these beast-like limbs have a much higher compatibility rate.”

In other words, transplanting humanoid limbs onto Duncan would require him to use his own soul energy to absorb and assimilate them, merging the soul fragments within the limbs into his own. However, because so much of his body was missing, the risk of soul grafting was extremely high.

But if they forwent soul fusion and simply used a grafting method, Duncan, as the recipient, would only need to “tame” and “control” the prosthetic parts, perfectly circumventing the potential risks of integration.

Duncan’s eyes burned with intensity as he looked at the beast-like prosthetics. A look of realization dawned on him. “These alchemical cybernetics… they’ve been morphologically calibrated to match the state of shapeshifting magic? Truly… a revolutionary experimental concept…”

Chris approached with a wide smile and added reassuringly, “Mr. Duncan, please rest assured. These alchemical limbs are all forged from rare magical metal ores, and the Soul Cores they contain were meticulously selected and transformed from the most suitable magical creatures…”

He tilted his head slightly, getting Harvey’s approval with a look, then paused before continuing, “And… if conditions permit, the controlling Soul Core can be replaced later. Even if you were to bring us a live Wyrm, we could find a way to successfully transform it for your use.”

Upon hearing this, Duncan’s body trembled slightly, and he murmured as if to himself, “An ancient Wyrm… its soul could be extracted for me to command… This is… this is truly a wish I’ve dreamt of for decades…”

He snapped out of his daze and, with a look of determination, bowed his head to Harvey. “My lord,” he said sincerely, “please transplant as many of these alchemical limbs as possible… You don’t need to worry too much about the surgical risks. I will voluntarily bear that cost. This way, I can also provide you with more research data for your experiments.”

“The Astrologer” Melissa blurted out in horror, “Teacher! You can’t! It’s too dangerous…”

“Mithril Unicorn” Benoit quickly clapped a hand over her mouth, pulling her aside to calm her down. “Respect our teacher’s choice. His will is what matters most!”

Harvey smiled. “The three of you can choose one person to observe the entire surgical experiment. The rest will need to leave the Laboratory for now and wait in the lounge outside… The surgery may take a long time, so you’ll need to be patient.”

The Eye of Illusion stepped forward first. “Please let me stay here with Teacher Duncan.”

…

After everyone had left one by one, only Harvey, Chris, and Egnor remained in the surgical center of the Alchemy Laboratory, along with the Eye of Illusion, who stayed behind to observe.

Duncan looked around, a little puzzled, and took the initiative to ask, “I’ve heard from Jin and Melissa that under your command, My Lord, there are two… Spellcasters who have undergone soul transformation and now reside within complete alchemical bodies?”

Harvey explained with a smile, “That’s right. The two of them have other matters to attend to at the moment, so they couldn’t be here for the surgery. I’ll introduce you to them formally later.”

The shapeshifting master nodded in understanding, a look of anticipation on his face. “If the surgery fails, my entire soul will be transferred into an alchemical body according to the established plan, right? I wonder if it’s still possible to use shapeshifting magic after becoming an Alchemical construct…”

Chris quickly said, “Mr. Duncan, you don’t need to be so pessimistic. That’s just the final fail-safe we established in case the surgery fails. We won’t consider it unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

Egnor, who had already been preparing for the surgery off to the side, walked forward in a full-body coated protective suit. He waved Chris, who was still chattering away, aside and said calmly, “Alright, I’ll be handling the first stage of the surgery. Mr. Duncan, I will first use an anesthetic potion to put you in a state where your mind is clear but your body is numb. The wounds on your severed limbs will be reopened, and then sutured again after the limb integration is complete…”

Chris went to the side and began to put on a protective hood for the surgery. His voice came out muffled as he continued, “I’m in charge of the second stage. I’ll start by grafting a section of an artificial metal spine… to restore neural control to the lower body.”

Duncan listened in a daze, finally unable to stop himself from speaking up. “Gentlemen… why don’t you just get started? You don’t need to explain the detailed process of the surgical experiment to me. I’m finding it a bit… unsettling…”

Harvey turned his head to look at the Eye of Illusion, who was standing outside the glass wall of the operating room. He had pressed himself almost completely against the glass, his face distorted by the pressure. He seemed to be watching every move of the people inside, his concern for his teacher plain to see.

“You have three good students, Mr. Duncan.”

Harvey patted the shapeshifting master, who was now strapped and secured to the operating table, with one hand and said in a soft, reassuring voice, “Next, please enter a state of deep, guided meditation. I will use my mental energy to enter the Magic Net with you and complete the most critical part: the soul grafting…”

…

Outside the surgical center of the Alchemy Laboratory, “the Astrologer” Melissa paced back and forth restlessly. Time ticked by, second by second, but the doors to the operating room remained shut.

“Mithril Unicorn” Benoit was clearly much calmer. He sat on a sofa with a cup of warm fruit tea brought by an alchemy apprentice, constantly looking around. “Melissa, be patient. Have faith in Mr. Kel’Thuzad. He’s the only real-world agent of the Forum. The magical knowledge and alchemical skills he possesses far exceed those of any high-level caster or alchemy chief we know of.”

Besides, that fellow Jin was in there watching over things like a hawk. There was no way anything could go seriously wrong.

The Astrologer sighed and sat down as well. “Of course I have faith in Mr. Kel’Thuzad’s skills. I’m just afraid our teacher’s condition is poor and that he won’t be able to endure the difficult surgery… You know, his age, after all…”

Although high-level casters live much longer than ordinary mortals due to their increased power, and while their mana and mental energy remain abundant, their flesh-and-blood bodies inevitably grow old and frail.

Benoit took a sip of his hot tea and asked helplessly, “Then tell me, do you even know our teacher’s real age? Heh, forget about us. Even Jin, who’s been with him the longest, has no idea how old he is…”

Melissa froze for a moment, her brows arching as she was about to pull rank as the senior student and teach her young junior a lesson, when the doors to the surgical laboratory suddenly opened.

The Eye of Illusion, Jin Gavin, stumbled out, his face pale.

“How did it go? Did the surgery go well?” The two of them hurried over and asked anxiously.

The Eye of Illusion opened his mouth, unsure of how to explain. In the end, he just mumbled in a low voice, “The surgery was exceptionally successful… But Teacher… he… he doesn’t look human anymore…”

Chapter 303: A New Path for Shapeshifting Magic

“Mr. Duncan, now please try to control the prosthetic arm. Perform grasping and releasing motions.”

“Mmm… good. Now try to move your lower limbs. Yes! Maintain a steady walking pace…”

“Are you able to successfully channel the mana in your body into the transplanted limbs? Try channeling a spell.”

Duncan raised the still-unfamiliar alchemical prosthetic arm and, a bit clumsily, managed to channel the simplest of Arcane-type spells. Watching the arcane magical energy slowly gather in his silver-white metal palm, he smiled with satisfaction.

Harvey also noticed the slight hesitation in his spellcasting and quickly offered reassurance, “The magical energy channels designed into the alchemical prosthetic are far larger than the mana channels in your current body. You just need some time to recover and replenish the magical energy in your body, and you’ll be able to cast spells instantly, just like before.”

The alchemical arm grafted onto Duncan was completely different from a normal human limb. It was mainly designed to match the shapeshifted forms he might use in the future. Therefore, in addition to the part that connected to his original severed limb, a retractable, metal mantis-like arm was grafted to his ribs, connecting to an artificial spine. It could normally be folded and hidden under his mage robe, but once he used shapeshifting magic, it could become part of his beast-like form and assist in combat.

In other words, Duncan, this master of shapeshifting magic, now truly possessed three arms.

But compared to the somewhat conservative modifications to his upper body, the prosthetics on his lower torso were rather shocking—Harvey had drawn inspiration directly from the design of the Wolf Spider alchemical beasts, grafting a set of metallic insectoid legs with three pairs of feet onto Duncan. These could also be retracted and combined to form two slightly slender human-like legs for normal use. However, without a mage robe to conceal them, one would notice that these two metal legs looked somewhat disproportionate in both thickness and length.

Once he used shapeshifting magic, these two legs could instantly split into three each, transforming Duncan into a bizarre, six-legged, crab-like form. This gave him the special ability to climb and hang from surfaces, making him no different from a Wolf Spider alchemical beast.

When Duncan’s three students timidly entered the surgical laboratory, he was, under Harvey’s guidance, attempting to cast the shapeshifting spell he had once been best at.

After a series of gruesome sounds of flesh, bone, and metal grinding together, Duncan succeeded—for the first time since his injury and disability—in completing his old specialty, the werewolf shapeshift. However, compared to his student, Eye of Illusion, his transformed state was slightly different. Though it was still a werewolf form, his body was clearly taller and more muscular. From his once hairy flanks, two sharp metal blades now abruptly extended from his back. These metal blades could even retract and extend freely, appearing exceptionally agile.

The fleshy limbs of his lower body were replaced by two thick, metallic beast-like legs. Their design was more akin to a large Demonic beast’s; the knees didn’t bend forward like a human’s but were bizarrely bent backward, resembling the digitigrade structure of a scaled creature.

The advantages of this were, of course, very obvious. At the very least, it could provide greater explosive power to his already heavy and massive beast form during jumps and exertions.

After a bit of experimentation, Duncan’s body, which hadn’t practiced meditation or channeling since his injury, quickly ran out of mana. He had to end the shapeshifting spell, still feeling that he hadn’t had enough.

“Teacher! How are you feeling now?” Eye of Illusion hurried forward to support Duncan, helping him back onto the operating table to sit down.

Duncan raised his newly transplanted metal prosthetic arm, flexed it, and murmured, filled with emotion, “I thought I would never be able to use shapeshifting magic again in this life. I never expected… I never expected that I really could…”

He looked up at Harvey, who was standing to the side, and once again bowed his head in sincere gratitude. “Lord, please allow me to offer you a Spellcaster’s highest respect and thanks. If not for your help, I might have lost the courage to even go on living.”

Harvey smiled and nodded in return. “There’s no need for that. The surgical experiment also revealed a clear drawback. I’m afraid you will no longer be able to shapeshift into avian forms. While the metal prosthetics provide powerful physical augmentation, their flaws in a shapeshifted state are also very obvious. Your flesh-and-blood body cannot support such heavy metal parts to soar freely in the sky…”

Chris came closer and added, “Besides, the newly transplanted limbs still require repeated adaptation on your part. After we get your feedback, we’ll need to recalibrate the finer details. So, for a long time to come, I’m afraid you’ll need to stay here and cooperate with us on a series of post-operative observation experiments…”

After speaking, he gave Harvey a subtle glance, and the two exchanged a nod of silent, mutual understanding.

Now, not only could Mr. Duncan’s three high-level caster students be kept in the territory to work for free for a long time, but even the high-rank master of shapeshifting magic himself would have to work for Harvey for a while without pay.

The Astrologer, Melissa, quickly brought over a mage robe that had been prepared in advance and covered her teacher’s terrifying, six-jointed metal insect legs. With lingering fear, she said, “Lord, I was wondering what we should do next…”

“Rest assured, I have already prepared a private villa for Mr. Duncan to rest and recover. You three can also stay in the territory; there’s no need to return to Jackdaw Town.”

Eye of Illusion and Mithril Unicorn exchanged a glance, both feeling a little embarrassed. It seemed they had paid no price at all in exchange for such a dedicated rescue effort and subsequent arrangements. No matter how they thought about it, they felt a sense of shame, as if they had taken huge advantage of him.

Fortunately, their teacher, Duncan, spoke up after a moment of thought.

“There’s no need to be so polite, Lord. Although my body needs time to recover and be observed, these three are perfectly healthy and full of energy. If there is any way they can be of use, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Harvey was delighted and asked directly, not bothering to hide his intentions, “I’ve heard that Mr. Duncan and your three students all come from the Oland Royal Magic Academy, and are all exceptionally talented Spellcasters…”

He paused, looked at the four of them—teacher and students alike completely bewildered—and slowly continued, “For a long time, I have hoped to establish a small, private magic academy here in the Northern Barren Lands. At present, I have indeed taken in quite a few… magic apprentices from St. Valen who were persecuted by the Church and the nobility. The only difficulty is that my teaching staff is a bit lacking. I was wondering…”

This time, before Duncan could speak, Eye of Illusion and the Astrologer said in unison, “Do you need us to provide magical initiation and guide the apprentices’ advancement? That’s no problem at all!”

Chris quickly leaned in and interjected, “Could you assign Mr. Benoit to my Alchemy Laboratory? I’ve always wanted to collaborate and exchange ideas with an independent high-rank Alchemist from the south. The territory’s Laboratory has many alchemy projects that are still waiting to be started!”

Chapter 304: Migrants from the South

After a long night of swaying and bumping, the alchemical vehicle that had departed from Jackdaw Town finally arrived at the great wall gate of the Northern Realm’s pioneer territories at dawn.

When the vehicle’s hatch opened, the passengers who had been curled up inside emerged, carrying all sorts of bags and bundles on their backs, their faces filled with bewilderment.

It was the first time any of them had set foot on the barren lands north of Raven Ridge. They instinctively huddled together in the biting, snow-laced wind, shuffling anxiously toward the city gate amidst the loud urging of the Defense Force soldiers.

“One alchemical vehicle can only carry fifty civilians at most. A round trip brings over less than five hundred people. It’s going to take several more trips to complete the mission…” The Defense Force driver, who was responsible for guiding and operating the alchemical beast vehicle, swung his legs out and hopped down from the driver’s cabin at the front. Wiping the snowflakes from his face, he complained to the Defense Force soldier in charge of registration at the gate.

According to the prior agreement, the southern civilians migrating from various parts of Grizzly Bear Territory had been arriving in Jackdaw Town in succession over the past few days. The temporary shelters previously erected in the town were clearly useless in the dead of winter. The pioneer territories’ City Hall had no choice but to immediately begin the relocation, transporting them to the barren lands as quickly as possible.

City Hall had set up a temporary office at the city gate early on. Under the guidance of the Defense Force, each arriving batch of civilians lined up in an orderly, long queue to begin the routine identity registration.

“Shepherd Knight” Anbiki Kenny stood at the gate, rubbing his hands together. He craned his neck from time to time, carefully scanning the crowd gathering outside, until he finally spotted the familiar figure he was looking for—his fiancée, Sophia. She was dressed in a thick, off-white cotton dress, a cashmere shawl draped over her shoulders to ward off the cold, and she carried a small, simple bundle as she stood at the back of the line.

Anbiki suppressed his excitement and strode forward, pulling her into a tight embrace. The surrounding crowd turned their gazes toward them, murmuring amongst themselves.

“How bold of you! Sophia, you really dared to come to the barren lands to find me all by yourself… Good heavens, you have no idea how worried I’ve been these past few days since I received your reply.”

Sophia’s pale little face was red from the cold, but she still bloomed with a radiant smile. “When the news of Earl Fegan’s defeat reached Mill Town, I also learned that your father was unwilling to pay the ransom. Everyone in town was saying you’d be sentenced to hang by the lord of the barren lands. At that moment, I had only one thought: I had to come see you one last time, no matter what…”

She paused, her eyes welling with tears as she whispered, “I’m so glad you were pardoned and that we could be reunited safely.”

Hearing this, Anbiki’s eyes also grew a little red. The day after he had settled in the pioneer territories, he had pleaded with his new supervisor to write him a letter of guarantee so he could send a message to his fiancée letting her know he was safe. But in the letter, he hadn’t dared to mention anything about her waiting for his return—after all, a precondition of his pardon was that he had to work for the Lord in the barren lands for several years. He couldn’t have the audacity to ask a girl to wait for him back home.

Who would have thought that this stubborn, headstrong girl would decide in her reply to come to the barren lands to meet him? Anbiki had just received her letter the day before yesterday, and now Sophia was standing right in front of him.

“Have you been well this past month?” Anbiki finally noticed the teasing gazes from the surrounding crowd and, slightly embarrassed, he let go of his fiancée, changing the subject awkwardly.

Sophia was silent for a moment before saying softly, “I quit my job as a governess…”

That was a given. Since she had voluntarily joined the list of migrants from the south, regardless of her former profession, she would have to obey the orders of the fief’s lord and move her entire family to the barren lands to serve a new master.

“Alright, alright, it’s okay…” Anbiki quickly comforted her. “Although my crimes have just been pardoned, I was immediately assigned a job. The pay is decent, more than enough to support you.”

“A job? Don’t you have to…” Sophia was a little surprised. She looked down at Anbiki and only then realized that her fiancé didn’t seem to be suffering the terrible fate of a defeated prisoner. Not only were his hands and feet free of shackles and chains, but there were no soldiers or guards following closely behind to monitor and restrict his freedom.

Generally, defeated prisoners who were not ransomed were sentenced to hard labor and sent to mines or logging camps as forced laborers. To prevent them from escaping, they were often kept in shackles. The families of prisoners of war received the same treatment, the only difference being that they weren’t forced to perform the same heavy labor.

Anbiki understood what she meant and explained with a slight smile, “I’m not the Lord’s prisoner of war or slave right now. The territory’s City Hall has arranged a job for me, herding and raising livestock… Other than not being able to leave the Northern Realm at will, I’m completely free. Come on, let’s go home first… After I get you settled, I have to go back to the Farm for work this afternoon.”

He led Sophia to a separate registration booth at the city gate. He took out a stamped approval slip from his coat and handed it over, whispering cautiously, “Commander, this is the identity registration guarantee for a resident’s family member. If you could please take a look…”

The City Hall official in charge of migrant registration took the slip and gave it a quick glance, a teasing look on his face. “Hmm… Strictly speaking, a fiancée doesn’t count as a resident’s family member. However… hehe, if you two go to City Hall and register as a legally married couple within the next month, it’s not impossible to bend the rules a little and add this lady’s information to your household registration.”

As he spoke, he pulled out a blank identification card, quickly filled in the details, and skillfully pricked Sophia’s index finger with a sterilized metal probe to complete the registration process.

“Mr. Kenny, you must register your marriage within a month… Don’t you forget!”

Blushing, Anbiki quickly pulled his fiancée away, quietly committing the City Hall official’s kind reminder to memory.

“Where do you live?” Sophia was just as abashed, but she took the initiative to change the subject, asking about Anbiki’s current living situation.

Anbiki came back to his senses, rubbed his hot cheeks, and said in a low voice, “Harvest Quarter. The house I was assigned to rent is in Harvest Quarter… Most of the people who work for the Agriculture Department live in that area. It’s not too far.”

“Quarter?” Sophia was once again confused.

To be honest, when Anbiki was first assigned his job, he hadn’t expected much. As a defeated prisoner, he would have been lucky to get a hovel to live in, just like the serfs with no personal freedom in Grizzly Keep, with a dozen people crammed into a single shack.

But when the official from City Hall finally led him to his assigned residential block, he was truly surprised—the housing that the lord of the barren lands assigned to ordinary farm workers was simply a bit too… good.

The residential blocks in the pioneer territories were not enclosed. The two of them walked along a wide main street to a crossroads, then followed the direction on a metal sign down a side road. Both the main and side streets were paved with smooth, evenly laid cobblestones. On both sides of the roads were two specially dug drainage ditches covered with stone slabs. The entire street was free of mud, grime, and puddles from melting snow.

Sophia looked around cautiously and said with some uncertainty, “These houses look like they’re for nobles and officials. Are you sure you remember the right place?”

Anbiki gave a helpless, wry smile. Just as he was about to point out his residence ahead, a municipal sanitation worker sweeping snow at a nearby street corner saw him and called out first.

“Mr. Kenny! You’re not at the Farm today?” The old man tilted his head slightly and then noticed Sophia standing behind Anbiki. He quickly took off his felt hat, holding it in his hands, and greeted them with a cheerful smile, “Oh! You’ve brought your wife to the pioneer territories already? Good morning, Mrs. Kenny!”

Chapter 305: Teacher Recruitment

Sophia stood at the door, covering her mouth in disbelief. “This whole place… is the residence assigned to you?”

“Of course!” The blush on Anbiki’s face didn’t seem to be fading anytime soon. He could only smile shyly. “Harvest Quarter, Building 12, 2nd Floor, Room 3. You’d better remember it so you don’t get lost. All the houses in this area are built exactly the same. New residents can easily go to the wrong one.”

The apartment assigned to Anbiki wasn’t particularly large compared to the other residents’ homes in the territory. It was just an ordinary one-bedroom, one-living room flat with its own washroom and kitchen, a living area, and a bedroom of less than eight square meters.

Though not spacious, it was fully furnished. On one side of the living room and bedroom walls were two thick brass pipes, half-embedded in the wall. Standing a meter away, Sophia could feel the billows of heat radiating from them.

She didn’t feel cold at all in this room; it seemed to be because of these strange pipes set in the walls.

“This is the residential block’s heating system, a masterpiece of the alchemists and spellcasters under the Lord.” Anbiki pointed at the heating pipes on the wall, introducing them with a hint of pride. “Without these magical creations, you’d probably get sick from the cold even staying indoors during the winters in the barren lands. But with them, it’s so warm inside you have to take off your heavy outer coat.”

“The Lord’s magical creations… can be enjoyed by the commoners of the territory on a daily basis… Anbiki, this is truly incredible.” As Sophia marveled, she subconsciously began to fold the dry clothes her fiancé had deliberately left to air by the heating pipes, making Anbiki’s heart feel even warmer.

He ducked into the small kitchen and took out some cheese that was a bit hard from the cold, along with an “employee meal” he had brought back from the Farm after work yesterday—half a pound of bread, also a bit hard and dry, but it was white bread baked with fine flour.

He had been working for less than a week and wasn’t yet qualified to receive his salary. His kind supervisor had lent him thirty gold yuan for emergencies, but his job at the Farm also provided one lunch meal a day.

“You must not have eaten anything on your way here, right? Have something to fill your stomach for now. I’ll bring some fresh food back for you after I get off work tonight.”

Seeing her fiancé’s constrained demeanor, Sophia couldn’t help but smile comfortingly. “Don’t worry about our future, Anbiki. Didn’t that commander from City Hall mention it casually when I registered my arrival? The territory is currently short-staffed in all kinds of jobs. I’ll go out tomorrow and see if there are any suitable opportunities…”

Anbiki fell silent for a moment. He thought about how his fiancée, back in their hometown of Mill Town, had been hired as a private tutor by a Baron’s wife to exclusively teach her children. She was well-respected and treated favorably in the noble’s residence, and her living conditions were far better than they were now. If it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t have had to come to the pioneer territories, let alone search for a job to make a living in the dead of winter.

After learning that Sophia was coming to the pioneer territories to live with him, Anbiki had quietly asked his local-born colleagues after work. Farm workers earned a monthly salary of eighty gold yuan. As a Trainee Deputy Group Leader in the breeding department, he would receive an additional subsidy of twenty gold yuan after his probationary period. Although a portion of his salary would be deducted for rent and heating for the Lord-provided housing, his take-home pay would be a solid one hundred gold yuan.

According to his local colleagues, the prices in the pioneer territories had always been very stable. Fifty gold yuan a month was enough for a single local man to live very comfortably, affording meat and wine every few days, with plenty left over for savings, finer daily necessities, and leisure activities.

But to support two people, it would be a bit tight. Filling their stomachs wouldn’t be a problem, of course, but Anbiki wasn’t content with a meager existence where he could just barely provide for his fiancée. The warm clothes the locals wore, the light vehicles they rode to and from work, speeding down the roads, and the delicious, novel foods that people queued up for at the Public Market…

He wanted Sophia to enjoy all of it. Only then would he feel he had done right by her for rushing to his side, regardless of everything else.

“I’ll work twice as hard… You…”

Before he could finish, there was a soft knock on the door. Anbiki hurried to open it and found two clerks in City Hall work uniforms standing outside.

“Does Ms. Sophia Kenny live here?”

“Yes, may I ask… what is this about?”

The clerk took out a thick manual from under his arm and handed a thin flyer to Anbiki. “Ms. Sophia’s registered occupation upon entering the city was a private tutor. According to regulations, she is considered a special talent, so we have come specially to inform her. Please proceed to the talent market at the territory’s City Hall tomorrow afternoon to participate in the teacher recruitment for the pioneer territories’ public school…”

“A school? The pioneer territories actually started a school?” Sophia popped her head out in pleasant surprise. “Is it for teaching the children of the Lord and the vassal nobles?”

The two clerks exchanged a glance and chuckled. “Not nobles. It’s for teaching the children of ordinary commoners… We don’t really have any nobles here.”

Sophia was taken aback, not quite processing it. “Commoners’ children? What could you teach them… Etiquette? Music? Theology?”

The clerk shook his head and pulled out another flyer, handing it to her. “To teach them to read and write, of course. You can take a look at the public school’s daily curriculum. On the back are the salary and benefits for a junior teacher. If you find it acceptable, please be at the talent market on time tomorrow for the interview.”

After a brief explanation, the two quickly left for the next household, leaving Anbiki and Sophia standing by the door in a state of confusion.

“Teaching the children of commoners to read and write? What’s the point of that? Is it to make them all into knights or noble attendants under the Lord?”

Sophia patiently took the two flyers and sat down on a chair in the living room to read them carefully.

It seemed that the curriculum at this public school was not complicated. As a junior teacher, she would only be responsible for the most basic literacy education courses—that is, teaching the commoners’ children to read and write. There was nothing more complex than that.

For a private tutor from a noble’s household like Sophia, this was almost too simple.

“The salary for a junior teacher is actually one hundred twenty gold yuan? That’s even higher than mine as a Trainee Deputy Group Leader in the Agriculture Department’s breeding group!” Anbiki’s sharp eyes caught the part he was most interested in, and he voiced his surprise.

Sophia’s face lit up with a smile. “This is wonderful, Anbiki! I can’t believe I’ve just arrived in the pioneer territories and someone has already delivered such a well-paying job to our doorstep… You were right, everything here seems so much better than our hometown, Mill Town!”

Chapter 306: A “Fishing” Operation

“Hello, Officer Max Anton.” A young man stood up from his chair to shake Max’s hand as he pushed the door open. “Just call me Candlelight.”

The newly established Grizzly Keep Police Department branch was temporarily set up in the town’s old City Guard command post. Senior Police Officer Max had been selected for a public assignment here, responsible for managing the city’s public security.

Max looked around, puzzled. He noticed that this young officer named Candlelight and the several people sitting behind him were not wearing the standard uniforms of the pioneer territories’ Police Department. Instead, they were dressed very casually in ordinary civilian winter clothing.

“You’re the undercover officers assigned to Grizzly Keep? Why aren’t you in uniform when you’re not on a mission?”

Candlelight smiled. “Officer Max, we’re not like you regular officers. As long as we’re not lying in bed with our eyes closed, we’re always on a mission.”

He then gestured to the colleagues behind him and explained simply, “After Earl Fegan was defeated, we immediately infiltrated Grizzly Keep and began gathering intelligence under a secret order from the Lord.”

No wonder, Max mused silently. He’d heard that when the Northern Army launched its counterattack on Grizzly Keep, they had received advance intelligence from within the city about the Earl’s troop deployments, as well as some newly drawn city maps. It seemed that was all the handiwork of these undercover officers.

“Are you all barren landers?”

Candlelight pointed to the frostbite behind his ear. “I’m a southerner. The accents and appearances of barren landers are slightly different from ours, so they’d be easily discovered if they tried to blend in…”

This was also the main reason why Police Superintendent Yuliao and Chief Astaren didn’t select officers with prosthetic limbs, like Max, for undercover work. Their exposed metal limbs were far too conspicuous. If they stood on a street, people would spot a police officer from dozens of meters away. Aside from serving as a deterrent, it made them completely useless for any kind of covert intelligence work.

Having been a police officer for over a year, Max felt that the number of things to do each day was simply endless. Often, he even worked overtime on his public holidays to handle cases.

Mediating daily disputes among the territory’s residents was one of the most tedious tasks. In addition, the police had to assist with the endless stream of incoming refugees, and arresting troublemaking thugs and vicious criminals was also a mandatory duty—the army, apart from defending the pioneer territories’ city and fighting abroad, had completely washed its hands of internal security matters.

As for Grizzly Keep, a large city with a population of nearly ten thousand, it was also very different from what he had expected.

The City Guard patrols under the former lord, Earl Fegan, had done the work of the police, but they seemed to have no standardized procedures or regulations to restrain them. Due to meager stipends, they often made a habit of extorting extra money from the populace, with colluding with back-alley gangs to collect protection fees being a typical method.

In times of war, they also had to answer the lord’s summons, either to man the city walls for defense or to follow a knight on an external campaign.

But in the pioneer territories, the police and the military were two completely separate systems, each handling their own internal and external responsibilities, their duties never overlapping.

However, the identity and scope of work of the undercover officers were very nebulous, often leaving Max confused. The identities, appearances, and personal information of these people were handled directly by Police Superintendent Yuliao himself. Even as a senior officer, Max had no idea how many of these “shadow colleagues” the Police Department had recruited and trained.

Aside from receiving direct orders from the Lord and the Superintendent, much of their intelligence surprisingly came from voluntary tip-offs from the territory’s citizens. That’s right—after several assassination attempts on the Lord and incidents of spies from the south infiltrating the territory, the local residents of the pioneer territories had actually started to proactively keep an eye on new immigrants they found suspicious, secretly reporting them to the Police Department.

Although most of these tips were just baseless suspicions born of paranoia, this vast local intelligence network, built spontaneously by the people, made it exceedingly difficult for enemies and spies trying to infiltrate the territory to hide their identities, leading to their swift capture.

Max snapped back to the present and asked in a low voice, “Alright, what’s the mission this time? I only received Superintendent Yuliao’s orders; I have no idea about the specifics of the case.”

“We’ve received two reliable tips. Someone appears to be secretly purchasing grain from the pioneer territories and, taking advantage of the frequent travel between the two places by immigrants, smuggling it into Grizzly Keep to sell.”

Candlelight pulled two sheets of paper from his coat and handed them to Max. One looked like a papyrus slip that had been crumpled into a ball and then smoothed out again, while the other was clearly letter paper.

The experienced Max could tell at a glance that the crumpled paper must have come from a secret tip-off from a citizen, but the letter paper…

“You’re opening private correspondence between citizens? Is… is that legal?”

Candlelight shook his head nonchalantly. “Smuggling grain is a serious crime under the territory’s laws. Against such cunning and treacherous criminals, we have to be just as unscrupulous as they are to protect the people’s property and uphold the Lord’s authority.”

Well now! His ideological awareness is even higher than a regular officer’s. Looks like he’s spent plenty of time in Chief Astaren’s classes.

“Alright, if you have solid evidence, why not just make the arrest? How do you need us regular police to cooperate?”

Candlelight let out a soft chuckle and said lightly, “Officer Max, our mission is to catch them red-handed… We can’t just go around arresting people based on two pieces of paper. That would severely damage the Police Department’s reputation and lead to public distrust.”

Max sighed. He had been on assignment in Grizzly Keep for the better part of a month. The sight of his men in their dark gray uniforms was far too conspicuous. Whenever these able-bodied “RoboCop” figures appeared anywhere in the city, the news would instantly spread throughout the area, making them as glaringly obvious as a light-emitting magic stone in the dead of night.

Any ongoing criminal or illegal activities would immediately get wind of it and scatter like birds and beasts, making their security missions exceptionally difficult. The local residents of Grizzly Keep were not friendly toward them, these barren landers from the Northern Realm, let alone having a shred of trust. In case of a dispute, they would rather let local back-alley gang members intervene than notify these “parachuted-in” foreign police.

“The reason this case requires your cooperation is that we hope to use you to expose their tracks. I’m sorry to put it this way, but whenever you show up, you’re like a giant rock thrown into a latrine pit. You’re bound to stir up a cloud of buzzing flies. That will make our operations in the shadows much smoother…”

Max’s expression soured slightly, but he had to admit the man was right. Using them to lure the snake out of its hole, then having these “shadows” cast the net, did indeed sound like a good plan.

“‘Fishing’ operations” weren’t an exclusive technique known only to these undercover officers. Max had also secretly learned a great deal from Chief Astaren’s lectures. He’d even heard that the investigative philosophy was personally proposed by the Lord himself…

Chapter 307: Rats and Flies

“The ‘rat’ has appeared! Everyone, be on alert!” a young undercover police officer whispered, huddled in a corner and turning to his colleagues hidden in the alley.

Candlelight nodded. Crouching impassively in the shadows of a street corner, he said, “Don’t spook him. Let’s just keep pretending to be looking for work… The guy clearly came empty-handed. He’s probably looking for a buyer.”

An undercover officer in the alley adjusted the felt hat on his head, exchanged a glance with Candlelight, and slipped away silently. Three streets away, Police Officer Max and his men, on a mock patrol, were waiting for their signal.

“Rat Hunt” was the temporary codename for this arrest operation. With the Police Department’s overt actions providing cover and a distraction, the undercover officers had managed to lock onto the target, who frequently appeared in the commoners’ district, in less than three days. With four or five men taking turns on stakeout each day, they had finally figured out his movements.

The target seemed to be well aware of the Police Department’s daily patrol frequency and fixed routes, choosing with great precision to emerge only during the interval after the dispatched patrols had left the area.

That was why Candlelight and the other undercover officers had changed into shabby coats to pose as laborers looking for odd jobs. They blended in with the local men who normally waited on the streets for work, staking out all the main thoroughfares of the commoners’ district. As long as the “rat” appeared or passed through, there was no way he could escape their surveillance.

The “rat” wandered up and down the main street a few times before ducking into a shop at the corner. On the main street of Grizzly Keep’s commoners’ district, there were several stores run by local merchant guilds, primarily dealing in the purchase and sale of grain, salt, and sugar.

A short while later, the “rat” emerged from the shop with a middle-aged man who looked like an assistant. They hurried back to his residence, just a street away. Trailing behind the assistant were two donkey carts led out from the shop’s backyard, clearly intended to haul some kind of cargo.

“Damn it, he really is selling grain illegally…” Candlelight clenched his fists and cursed through gritted teeth. “How did he get so much grain? Grain in the territory’s markets is supposed to be rationed and bought with identification cards…”

Something suddenly occurred to him, and his eyes widened in anger. “Shit, it can’t be an inside job from the warehousing department, can it? That bastard! He has absolutely no regard for the laws enacted by the Lord!”

A young undercover officer behind him grew impatient and urged in a low voice, “Chief! What are we waiting for? Let’s move in and arrest them now!”

Candlelight took a deep breath, suppressing his own agitation. He waved his hand. “Not yet. He can’t be doing this dirty work alone. If we want to catch them red-handed and wipe them all out in one fell swoop, we have to be patient and wait for the entire nest of rats to show themselves…”

He had already arranged for someone to notify Officer Max’s patrol squad. Soon, they would seal off all the major intersections in the commoners’ district. For now, all his team needed to do was keep a close watch on the “rat” as he completed the transaction, then tail them to root out the speculative merchant who was secretly buying the grain.

Sure enough, it wasn’t long before the “rat” and the assistant reappeared from around the corner, pulling two fully loaded donkey carts. They deliberately took secluded alleys and side roads to reach the side entrance of the main street shop. A pot-bellied, balding middle-aged man was already waiting there. Seeing the donkey carts approach, he glanced around warily for a moment before slowly nearing the carts to lift the sacks and inspect the contents.

He then broke into a satisfied smile, pulled a small pouch of coins from his coat, and handed it to the “rat.”

“Move in!” Candlelight gave the decisive order to make the arrest. Four or five undercover officers burst out from the corners and alleyways simultaneously, charging straight for their targets, who were so startled they froze in place, bewildered.

Candlelight led the charge, kicking the stunned “rat” to the ground. He pressed him face down with his foot, and dozens of silver and copper coins spilled from the pouch the man had barely had a chance to warm in his hand.

“You’re under arrest!”

…

Using the Magic Brain communication device specially approved by the Lord for the Police Department, Yuliao reported the case to Harvey: residents were hoarding grain and smuggling it to Grizzly Keep to sell to local merchants.

Looking at the long, detailed report sent by the Senior Police Superintendent, Harvey set down his quill pen and sighed softly. The two laws in the pioneer territories—rationing grain and strictly prohibiting private sales—had been repeatedly announced and publicized among the people many times. He never thought someone would still choose to risk it all for such a small amount of money.

Wait! Harvey suddenly slapped his forehead and turned to ask Rainer, who was beside him, “What’s the monthly grain limit for residents with their identification cards?”

Rainer was silent for a moment, then pulled out his work manual and flipped through it before answering, “My lord, based on the per-person calculation, it is more than enough for the people to eat their fill. After all, only wheat flour, salt, sugar, tobacco, and alcohol are rationed. Things like bread, dairy products, and meat—items that can’t be stored for long—are sold openly without restriction…”

Harvey narrowed his eyes, a hint of anger in his voice. “Then tell me, how did they manage to save up several hundred pounds of hulled wheat to secretly haul to Grizzly Keep and sell, all while ensuring they didn’t go hungry themselves?”

As he spoke, he slammed his hand on the table in fury, uncharacteristically losing his temper with Rainer and Astaren. “A nest of rats has appeared in my territory’s warehouses!”

Rainer snapped his workbook shut with a thump and, without a word, dropped to his knees and bowed to Harvey. He couldn’t figure out how these people had managed to save so much grain from their daily rations to sell illegally, either. But since the Lord was holding him accountable, it must have been due to his own negligence in his duties. Kneeling to apologize first couldn’t be a mistake.

Astaren was much calmer. Although he only assisted Rainer with his duties as the City Hall Steward, the Lord was furious. He first dropped to one knee to express his apology, then rose and went to the Magic Brain communication device. He quickly transcribed the interrogation results Yuliao had just sent over and presented them to Harvey with a bow.

“My lord, please calm your anger… This is indeed an oversight in our work, but the problem isn’t with the territory’s warehouses…” The chief advisor glanced at Rainer, who was still kneeling dazedly on the floor, and quietly defended his colleague. “The daily ins and outs and patrols of the warehouses are handled by alchemical beasts. The municipal official in charge is one of the old-timers who first joined the territory—a loyalist personally trained by Rainer. He would never steal from the storerooms to line his own pockets for such a paltry sum.”

Seeing Rainer kneeling there, trembling, Harvey’s anger subsided by half. Only then did he begin to carefully read the interrogation report sent by Yuliao.

So, it turned out the hateful rats weren’t in the territory’s warehouses. The problem was actually with the Agriculture Department, which was in charge of animal husbandry…

What made Harvey not know whether to laugh or cry was that the crime of illegal grain sales he had imagined was actually due to a batch of old wheat. It had been harvested the year before last and stored in the warehouses. After the new year’s bumper harvest, he had ordered it to be used as feed for livestock. Although the barren lands were dry and cold, hulled wheat stored for a long time in a warehouse would inevitably become slightly damp. With grain supplies no longer scarce, this old wheat was perfectly suitable for animal feed.

But some residents in the Agriculture Department, who were accustomed to a life of hardship, didn’t see it that way. This was perfectly good, plump grain! Using it to feed livestock was simply too extravagant and wasteful! Even if it was damp and moldy, it was still hundreds of times better than the tubers, roots, wild vegetables, and tree bark they had to dig up during past famines.

So, a few of the residents conspired in secret. They skimmed a portion of the old wheat that was sent to be ground and mixed into fodder each day and saved it up. After accumulating a certain amount, they had an accomplice who had moved from the south transport the damp wheat—mixed with a good deal of straw and wood shavings—out of the territory under the pretense of visiting relatives in Grizzly Bear Territory. Earning some money from it was an unexpected bonus.

Understanding the full story, Harvey couldn’t help but press a hand to his forehead. He gestured for Astaren to pull Rainer up from the floor and said, somewhat speechlessly, “It seems it’s not a particularly serious crime… However, since the territory’s laws have provisions for this, and this is the first case of its kind, we must still impose a harsh sentence. That’s the only way to set a negative example and warn other residents not to take such risks!”

A great dike can collapse from a single anthill. Since well-defined territorial laws were already in place, Harvey believed that making an example of someone was necessary. Otherwise, these “little flies,” who hadn’t started with any real malice, would sooner or later evolve into “big rats” who specialized in exploiting loopholes and harming his interests.

Chapter 308: The Public Trial

Ever since the pioneer territories’ City Hall was built, many wooden notice boards had stood in the small square out front. All the laws and regulations enacted in the territory, as well as job and military recruitment notices, were posted here. Furthermore, at fixed times in the morning, afternoon, and evening, a City Hall official would stand by the notice boards with an alchemical amplifier, repeating the announcements in a loud voice and answering questions for the gathered residents.

In addition, many local residents who had passed the basic literacy education program would voluntarily come to the square during their time off. They would explain the contents of the notices to the illiterate new immigrants who had moved to the territory later, earning the praise and compliments of the crowd and satisfying the small bit of pride they took in being able to read and write.

But today, things were a little different. For the first time ever, a high wooden platform had been erected in the center of the City Hall Square, surrounded by a circle of police officers from the Police Department in their crisp uniforms, causing the crowd of residents who had gathered to watch the spectacle to hold back in awe.

Three days prior, City Hall had posted a notice that a public trial for a criminal would be held in the square today. Although life in the pioneer territories was prosperous, the people’s forms of entertainment were pitifully few. After work, aside from playing cards in the public card and game rooms, they could only find some fun during the few major festival days scattered throughout the year.

Hearing that the Lord himself would be presiding over the trial of a criminal sent the local residents into a state of glee. Not only would they get to see their wise and benevolent Lord make a public appearance, but they might also get a chance to see a “despicable southerner” swinging from the gallows after the trial. It was a story that would surely become a topic of conversation for a long time to come.

Before the public trial was even set to begin, the area around the wooden platform in the square was already packed shoulder to shoulder with residents. It was a public holiday, so no one had to work. Although a few snowflakes drifted from the sky, the spirits of the spectating crowd were high, and they paid no mind to the cold brought by the light wind and snow.

When Lord Harvey stepped out of the alchemical vehicle, a massive cheer erupted from the crowd in the square.

He ascended the already-constructed spectator stands and gazed at the residents below, who were packed together, waving at him with all their might. He couldn’t help but feel a surge of emotion. In just two or three short years, these barren landers, who had once been displaced and in rags, had truly come to see these pioneer territories as their own paradise and home. They had come to see him, a commoner Spellcaster without even a noble title, as their revered Lord, to whom they pledged their utmost fealty.

Amidst the cheers that came in waves, each louder than the last, the first criminal to be publicly tried was brought onto the platform. He was the sole survivor from the Church’s Judgment Army squad that had fought in Jackdaw Town, the only Church member to survive the attack by the two high-rank casters and be captured alive by the Bloodline Warriors. Although he was only a low-rank battle priest, he was suitable enough to be made an example of as a villainous enemy.

Facing the seething crowd below the platform, the Priest’s pale face grew even more ashen. He had seen scenes like this many times before in Goldshine City, but those were during the Bishop’s grand masses and ceremonies, created by the thousands of believers prostrating themselves in worship.

But this was clearly different. The gazes of these ruddy-cheeked, emotional people were filled with undisguised hatred and contempt. He could even see that many of them were clutching stones and muddy snowballs they had prepared in advance. If not for the uniformed soldiers repeatedly holding them back, they would have likely already started throwing them at him.

Harvey rose from his high-backed chair and, with a smile, waved his hand at the crowd, signaling for them to be quiet.

“My people! Please be quiet…” The moment he spoke through the alchemical amplifier, the clamoring crowd immediately fell silent, as docile as a flock of sheep. “I have gathered you all here today to publicly expose several shameless crimes to you!”

The Priest was forced to his knees on the platform by two Bloodline Warriors, his forehead nearly touching the ground.

“As you know, a few days ago, the lord of Grizzly Keep colluded with the Church and brazenly launched an invasion of our homeland… But our people’s army lived up to expectations, intercepting the enemy at Jackdaw Town and annihilating them completely.”

A fervent cheer immediately erupted from the crowd.

“However, there is another despicable and shameless conspiracy that I must explain to you all openly and honestly. You have the right to know the whole truth. Do you remember the plague that broke out for no reason? Many among you here must have been forced to flee your homes because of that plague, seeking refuge here, is that not right?”

Harvey pointed to the kneeling Priest beside him and said in a loud voice, “This plague was spread by the Church’s own hands! Not only did they unleash this plague across the nations of the south, but they also conspired with Earl Fegan of Grizzly Keep to invade our territory and bring the plague to our homes as well!”

A buzz of discussion immediately rippled through the crowd. Many of the new immigrants who had fled from the south had looks of doubt on their faces.

Harvey raised his hand and had a guard bring over a complete set of “incriminating evidence,” which he displayed to the crowd on the platform. “Our army confiscated a large amount of evidence from the captured and fallen soldiers of the Church’s Judgment Army… A secret order personally delivered by the Bishop of Goldshine City, vials containing the plague virus, potions to treat the plague… Heh, and even a document bearing the sigil of the Grand Duke of St. Valen!”

No… these things… The Priest struggled to lift his head, his mouth opening as if to argue. But he suddenly felt a bone-chilling cold spread from where the warrior behind him gripped his shoulder. The chill instantly reached his neck and head, causing his body to go numb and his head to hang low once more.

“My people, many among you must have once been devout believers of the Church, right? Come forward and take a closer look… Look at the radiant sigil of the Archbishop of Goldshine City, look at the royal seal of the Grand Duke of St. Valen! These are things that cannot be faked!”

A middle-aged man, whose face still bore ugly scars after the plague’s sores had faded, squeezed to the front of the platform. He leaned in for a closer look and cried out in shock, “It’s real! I’m a resident of Goldshine City! The Bishop’s radiant sigil is impossible to forge!”

He stood dumbstruck for a moment, his face twisting slightly as he turned to shout, “The plague was actually the Church’s doing! And they still had the gall to demand half our family’s assets in exchange for a chance to live, all while holding the Divine Grace Potions that treated the plague!”

A gray-haired middle-aged woman also pushed her way to the front. After a glance at the evidence in the guard’s hands, she collapsed to the ground, wailing, “My son and daughter… they died on the road here because the plague worsened! They didn’t make it to Jackdaw Town, didn’t get the chance to receive the Lord’s free treatment and shelter… Oh, heavens!”

Two police officers immediately went over, gently helped the woman to her feet, and led her to a nearby shed to calm down.

With two “victims” from the south testifying from personal experience, Harvey’s claims about the Church’s shameless conspiracy and evil crimes were immediately validated. The crowd, which included many refugees from the south, was instantly swept up in a tide of emotion.

“Damn the Church! Damn the southern nobles!”

“My entire family died in the plague! These holy rollers should pay for their lives!”

“Look at that Priest! He’s hanging his head without a word! If that’s not an admission of guilt, what is?”

“Hang him! Hang the Church’s holy roller! Avenge our dead relatives!”

Harvey narrowed his eyes. Seizing the moment while the southern refugees were in a frenzy, he added more fuel to the fire, stoking the emotions of the local barren landers as well.

“Do you know why the lord of Grizzly Keep conspired with the Church to wage war against us?”

“Those nobles heard a rumor from somewhere that we had discovered a gold mine in our territory, that our residents were rolling in wealth. So, with the greedy hearts of bandits, they brazenly sent their troops to plunder our pioneer territories, to seize our people as serfs, to steal the food and wealth we’ve accumulated through hard work, and to burn down the comfortable homes you worked so hard to buy!”

The local residents, who were native to the barren lands, didn’t quite feel the same depth of suffering that the southern refugees had endured from the plague. But the moment their own interests were involved, the hatred and fury that erupted from them was no less than that of the new residents who had lost their families and children.

“What? A gold mine? What gold mine do we have? That’s just an excuse for the nobles to send troops to rob us!”

“These dog-like nobles! They want to steal our property? In their dreams!”

“I bought my house and my bicycle on an installment plan! I haven’t even finished paying them off, and they’re already scheming? Damn them all!”

“Hmph! All three of my sons are in the army! They joined up to fight and protect the safety of our territory and everyone’s property! We will never let these shameless southern nobles take it away!”

The people’s indignant cries gradually became unified. Finally, a stone flew from somewhere in the crowd, striking the kneeling Priest on the platform hard. In the next moment, only one sound remained at the public trial.

“Hang him!”

“Hang the Church’s holy roller!”

“Hang the southern nobles!”

“Be careful! Don’t let the stone hit the Lord! You blockhead!”

Chapter 309: Aftermath of Hatred

“My lord, Police Superintendent Yuliao and Commander Pierce are here to see you!” the personal guard at the study door announced after knocking.

“Have them both come in.”

Pierce, his face beaming with joy, and Yuliao, a hint of worry on his, walked side-by-side into Harvey’s study.

Yuliao was about to salute when Pierce cut in, “My lord, after yesterday’s public trial, the Military Command’s recruitment office was flooded with new immigrants from the south, all eager to enlist… It seems that using the public trial to stir up the people’s righteous indignation worked exceptionally well!”

Harvey rolled his eyes in exasperation. This guy was never satisfied. The pioneer territories, with a population of just over twenty thousand, was already supporting a professional army of more than three thousand soldiers, which was already stretching Harvey’s finances thin. And here he was, still bent on expanding the army.

“I haven’t issued any new recruitment orders, so why are they flocking to the recruitment office? Even if we were to expand the army, at least half of these new immigrants from the south wouldn’t pass the physical fitness test. Don’t you know that yourself?”

Harvey’s stern reprimand finally cooled Pierce’s enthusiasm. He scratched his head, realizing it was true. The immigrants from the south were indeed physically weaker than the natives of the harsh, cold north. Just in terms of stature, they were noticeably shorter than the barren landers. If they were held to the Military Command’s recruitment standards, nine out of ten would be rejected on the spot.

“Then… what about the garrison shortage at Grizzly Keep? We can’t just keep rotating the Defense Force and the Northern Army there, can we? It’s a large city with a population of nearly ten thousand. Five hundred men are stretched thin just managing the gates and keeping watch on the perimeter.” Though his spirits were dampened, Pierce was still focused on the matter at hand.

Harvey pinched the bridge of his nose and pondered for a moment. “It’s not that we won’t recruit anyone at all. First, we need to fill the vacancies in the territory’s various production sectors. The remaining new immigrants can be trained as militia. Send them to the Garrison Corps on the east coast. That way, they can contribute to agricultural production while also integrating into the territory more quickly. At the very least, their entire outlook needs to change…”

With that, he reluctantly approved a written order to expand the militia by five hundred men and tossed it to a beaming Pierce, finally sending him on his way.

“Alright, your turn… What’s the matter with the Police Department?”

Yuliao was much calmer. He stepped forward and reported methodically, “My lord, yesterday’s public trial was aimed entirely at the Church and the southern nobles. As a result, when the criminals accused of privately selling grain were brought up for trial later… the deterrent effect on the public wasn’t as strong as it could have been. I’m concerned…”

Harvey paused. After he had finished trying the Priest from the Church yesterday, he couldn’t be bothered to watch the hangings and had left in a hurry. He had completely forgotten there was another case after that.

“What? Were the onlookers forgiving of this kind of behavior—lining one’s own pockets at the territory’s expense?”

Yuliao shook his head and explained, “I wouldn’t say forgiving. After the men confessed on the spot, they weren’t pelted with stones and mud, but it was clear the crowd’s sentiment wasn’t one of hostility… People just shouted a few curses, and there wasn’t much objection to the final sentence of three years of hard labor in the Mining Area.”

Harvey smiled. “Then that’s fine. I don’t want the people to be completely swept up in hatred, nor do I want to intimidate them with overly harsh laws. I just need to instill one idea in all the residents: don’t even think about stealing, because if you do, you will be caught!”

Stealing and privately selling a small amount of old grain that was meant to be discarded, then having all personal property confiscated and being sentenced to three years of hard labor, is already quite a severe punishment. Having a model case like this as a cautionary tale is enough.

“There is one more thing, my lord… After the public trial yesterday, many of the southern immigrant families who were once followers of the Church have been voluntarily taking the altars, idols, and other religious items from their homes to City Hall Square to be discarded and burned… The Police Department sent men to maintain order but did not stop them.”

Harvey let out a chortle of delight. This was the real objective he had wanted to achieve with yesterday’s public trial!

Over sixty percent of the territory’s population, the barren landers, had almost no religious faith. While they struggled to survive in the desolate, bitter lands of the Northern Realm, no God of Glory or other deity had ever offered them the slightest bit of help. Their norm was to ‘thank heavens’ when their stomachs were full and ‘damn heavens’ when they were hungry.

But the ever-increasing number of immigrants from the south were completely different. They came from a peaceful land untouched by the incursions of vile orcs and Demons. Aside from the commonplace oppression of their noble lords, most had never been tempered by the fires of war or severe famine. Consequently, the majority had some level of faith, with a large portion being less devout followers of the Radiant Church.

After arriving in the pioneer territories of the north, which had no religious activities whatsoever, they had spontaneously set up the religious articles they brought with them in their homes to make up for not being able to attend mass and pray in a church. Some of the bolder ones had even gone to City Hall to request that missionaries be brought in to build a church.

This was not the outcome Harvey wanted. Forcibly stripping them of their faith would surely cause hidden resentment among the people. Rather than planting such seeds of discord, it was better to be open and direct: pin an ironclad crime on the Church, thoroughly expose their past conspiracies, and let these less devout followers, whose faith was not strong to begin with, break free from the Church’s spiritual control.

“The same kind of public trial needs to be held in Grizzly Keep. Although the Church’s holy rollers have all withdrawn from there, the cathedral is still standing in the city. Arrange for some undercover officers to mix with the populace and quietly spread the truth of today’s trial. Let public opinion and sentiment ferment for a while, and then completely detonate their suspicion and hatred for the Church!”

Harvey said to Yuliao in a calm tone, “I’ll have City Hall announce tax relief and a fifty percent reduction in land rent to the people of Grizzly Keep and its surrounding territories at the same time. The new head of the Fegan family, Earl Trevor, will also cooperate fully. When the time comes, the people of the city will understand perfectly which side offers them real, tangible benefits.”

Yuliao couldn’t help but feel his spirits lift. He said, “My lord, in that case, the people of Grizzly Keep will undoubtedly side with us completely. In less than a month, they probably won’t even need us to act—they’ll tear down the cathedral and the nearby monastery themselves.”

After all, compared to the God of Glory who never answered their prayers day and night, the Lord of the barren lands, who could reduce their rent and taxes and enact various beneficial decrees, offered them far greater returns.

Without the Church in Grizzly Bear Territory, the common folk would also pay less in believer’s taxes and no longer be forced into unpaid labor during the winter at the Church’s behest, doing things like repairing the cathedral or expanding the monastery.

Even a fool would know what to choose.

Chapter 310: The Wish of the Dwarves

Hollowhearth City, in the south’s Breath of the Hills.

Copperhammer, the Burrowing Dwarf known by the handle “Frost Giant” on the Forum, was currently rubbing his hands together as he sat before a Magic Brain device. He grinned and pointed at the device’s crystal screen, eager to show off to his older brother.

“Noli, look! The war between the Federation and the Luminous Theocracy in St. Valen and Da’ers has let us make a killing! Hmph, even those Magic Stone Merchant Guilds under the Federation don’t dare to be as shameless as they used to be when they deal with us.”

Noli, the Dwarf leader with a thick beard, pondered for a moment before asking with some hesitation, “Why did you have the Federation give us a portion of the payment in points instead of directly converting it into hard currency or the supplies our people have always lacked?”

As if something suddenly occurred to him, his eyes widened and he complained resentfully, “You didn’t take the points we worked so hard to accumulate and use them to draw cards in the Tower of Magic’s adventure game, did you? Copperhammer, this is public property! They’re not your personal toy chips for some magic game!”

Copperhammer rolled his eyes and grumbled, “The points I used to draw cards were all from my own information trades on the Forum. As for the portion from Anonymous Consignment and material trades, I haven’t touched a single point without permission…”

Seeing his brother’s puzzled look, he said with a hint of pride, “Although we chose to stand with the Federation in the Forum’s referendum… how could we not make them bleed a little in return for our support? This wasn’t some empty verbal promise, you know. We actually tore down the few scattered churches and monasteries in the city for them…”

As the leader of the Dwarves, Noli was swamped with work day in and day out. Unlike Copperhammer, he couldn’t spend long hours immersed in the Forum, freely building relationships with members of other races. Naturally, he wasn’t as sensitive to the trivial bits of information on the Forum outside of major events.

But Copperhammer was different. He was one of the few “highly educated intellectuals” among the Hollowhearth Dwarves who had studied abroad in the City of Magic, Araye. He naturally had many private networks, and with the secret “Southern Minority Alliance” he forged with the Elves, he had friends all over the Forum and was thriving.

“I traded our magic stone orders for the Federation members’ public points because I recently received a tip from a core group on the Forum… The Forum is opening up admission again! Noli, our chance to get more of our people in is here!”

The Dwarf leader paused, looking at him in disbelief. “Really? Is this reliable? Which core members revealed it? Was it one of the Legendary Lords?”

Copperhammer put on a mysterious expression and whispered, “A Legendary Lord? Hmph, I found out by chance from Mr. Kel’Thuzad himself! What’s a Legendary on the Forum? Can they compare to the Forum’s one and only agent?”

The two brothers looked at each other and, in a moment of tacit understanding, opened their Magic Brain devices and began to quickly calculate the number of points they currently held.

For a long time in the past, the number of points Copperhammer could earn through knowledge and information exchange under his own name was very limited. When he wanted to get Noli “into the group,” he had no choice but to buy points with money. But as the Forum’s trading section grew more diverse with features like Anonymous Consignment and bulk material transfers, the point wallets of the only two Burrowing Dwarves on the Forum gradually filled up.

But who would have known that the Forum would then establish the “Magic Encyclopedia,” a veritable treasury of magical knowledge? The Dwarves, who had long suffered from racial discrimination and academic oppression, felt like they had found a priceless treasure. They immediately invested a large number of points to acquire Human magic knowledge they previously had no access to and began to organize the talented youths in their clan who had an aptitude for spellcasting but, for various reasons, were not qualified to receive a magical education in the human kingdoms.

“I’ve also secretly revealed the news of new admissions to the Elves… Noli, you should understand my intention. Every time the Forum opens for new members, both our peoples must seize the opportunity to get someone in. This isn’t a goal that can be achieved in a year or so, but as time goes on, we can eventually form a power on the Forum strong enough to contend with those disunited Human Spellcasters…”

The Dwarf leader nodded with a solemn expression. He fully understood the grand ambition his usually flippant-looking brother truly wanted to achieve. Once their group of “Spellcasters from the south’s minorities” gained a certain degree of voting power on the Forum, they could seek an opportunity…

They could seek to have the mysterious organization behind the Forum abide by its founding principles—freedom, openness, inclusiveness, and anonymity. They could make the Humans, who had held the authority over magical knowledge for millennia, abandon their racial prejudice and open up academic exchange. They could ensure that all non-human Spellcasters in the south who yearned for peace and truth could freely travel to human kingdoms and receive an equal and just magic education, just like Human Spellcasters!

“The Elves will also gather enough points to get a high-rank Mage into the Forum this time… We don’t need to be too aggressive; we just need to maintain the same number of people as them.”

Copperhammer closed the crystal panel of his Magic Brain device, took out a letter from his desk drawer that had clearly been opened but still bore the traces of a magic seal, and handed it to his brother, Noli.

“I plan to take a two-pronged approach. On one hand, we’ll get more of our people onto the Forum. On the other hand… I want to select a group of young children from our clan and send them to Mr. Kel’Thuzad’s place. His domain was able to withstand a joint attack from the Church and the nobility, so it must be massive and extraordinarily powerful. Its safety goes without saying. The most important thing is to establish a close, real-world cooperative relationship with this Forum agent!”

Noli took the letter dubiously, muttering, “He’s in the middle of a fierce fight with the Federation. Why would he accept our unsolicited goodwill? Sending our people over would make it seem like we’re trying to steal his magical knowledge… Why would he agree?”

Copperhammer chuckled mysteriously. “A long time ago, he and I had an in-depth conversation on the Forum. He asked me about a clue to an ancient legend concerning… the source of mana. You know as well as I do, besides me, no one on the Forum knows more about these magical ores buried deep within the earth.”

“The source of mana? You mean…” Noli asked, shocked and suspicious. “Are you talking about the source of all mana in the real world, the one repeatedly mentioned in the ancient texts passed down through the generations of our people? Copperhammer, our people were born and raised underground. We’ve long known that stuff is just a fairy tale our ancestors told to fool children. Mr. Kel’Thuzad might have been deceived by some fabricated rumor in an obscure biography, but surely you know it’s nonsense, don’t you?”

As far back as the era of the Ancient Magic Council, countless brilliant Legendary Casters had already proven conclusively that the source of mana was the energy seeping from the Magic Net in other dimensions. To acquire mana and control spells, a Spellcaster had to learn to channel it through meditation, drawing magical energy from the Magic Net through the spatial barrier for their own use.

Magic stones were merely the physical, mineral manifestations of the Magic Net’s energy after it seeped into the real world. They did not appear out of thin air, nor did they have a so-called source in the real world.

Copperhammer shook his head and sighed faintly. “But that Mr. Kel’Thuzad… he told me himself that he unearthed ancient magic ruins deep beneath the Spine of the Continent Mountains… They don’t bear the marks of Dwarven activity; we can’t dig through a mountain range as massive and hard as the Spine of the Continent… This means that the Mages of the ancient era were also searching for something. But deep underground, aside from magic stone veins and the legendary source of mana, what else could have possibly attracted them?”

“So he’s asking you for answers and clues? To solve this ancient rumor and secret?”

“That’s right. He recently sent me a formal letter of invitation himself. Noli, this agent doesn’t discriminate against us because of our non-human status. He said he’s established a brand new magic academy in his territory and asked if I was interested… in sending some Dwarven children over to study magic. This is the first time in my entire life that I have received an invitation from a high-level Human Spellcaster who is willing to accept us and impart magical knowledge… Tell me, how could I possibly refuse?”

One had to understand, the only reason Copperhammer himself had been given the opportunity to study magic in Araye as a non-human was because their own father, the former leader of the Dwarves, had led the clan’s warriors to assist the Humans in a brutal battle against the Demons. He had paid the price of nearly ninety percent of his warriors’ lives, all in exchange for a single admission slot that their counterparts had condescended to grant them.

Chapter 311: Forum Recruits New Members

The new week’s Spellcaster Forum gathering began promptly at nine o’clock at night.

Forum members with participation and speaking rights flooded into the public chat room almost instantly, looking as though they had logged into the Forum long in advance to wait.

Everyone knew what the core theme of today’s gathering was: the Spellcaster Forum’s new round of member recommendations. Excluding the initial group of old members who had joined for free when the Forum was first established, this was already the third time the Forum had publicly recruited members.

The entry requirements for the first round of recruitment were set very low. An initial member only needed to pay one hundred points and provide a one-on-one guaranteed recommendation to successfully invite a new member, pending the Forum Administrator’s approval.

The conditions for the second round of recruitment, however, were quite harsh. For some unknown reason, the Forum chose to release a small number of three spots through a bidding auction. Two of them were snatched up by Forum members who were clearly backed by the Federation, in exchange for a hefty sum of points and material resources.

In addition, because the Federation had made an outstanding contribution to the creation of the Forum’s Magic Encyclopedia, they had also received three precious designated spots from the Forum’s public leaders, Administrator Turing and Observer Neumann.

Most of the members active on the Forum were well aware that in the Forum’s current composition, the members with Federation backing definitely ranked first. It wasn’t difficult for such a massive Spellcaster organization, entrenched in the southern continent, to use its own resources and connections to create a group with an overwhelming majority of votes on the Magic Net Forum.

The Federation now had nearly nine official members in the Forum, and that wasn’t including several internal members who lacked trading, speaking, or voting rights but could listen in on gatherings and help manage the Magic Encyclopedia section.

Other members on the Forum privately referred to them as “half-permission members.”

The Dwarves and Elves, who had privately formed the “Southern Minority Alliance,” each had two full-permission Forum members and were active on the Forum with a semi-public status.

The dozen or so other independent members were mostly from various powerful Spellcaster organizations within the seven wizard kingdoms. They did not have particularly tight-knit factions, only forming temporary alliances when necessary.

Initially, Harvey had paid close attention to this group, worried that their numbers would surpass the Federation’s small clique and, should they band together, influence the direction of public opinion within the Forum and the outcome of certain important issues. However, he had since skillfully resolved this problem through various means.

At the very least, the Astrologer, the Eye of Illusion, and the Mithril Unicorn, three independent members, were currently staying as guests in his pioneer territories. They were also in need of his help and owed him a tremendous debt of gratitude. This had, to some extent, created a balance of power between the independent members and the Federation, and Harvey’s public identity as a “Forum agent” could now be said to have a few vassal members of his own.

…

As usual, the gathering began with a greeting from Mr. Hand of Elements. This mild-mannered and suave independent Spellcaster had already been labeled by Harvey as the Spellcaster Forum’s “etiquette standard-bearer.”

[Hand of Elements: Praise be to Mr. Turing and Mr. Neumann! Good evening, everyone…]

[Son of Flame: Yes, yes, good! A good evening to all! Let me be the first to announce the explosive good news! The Federation’s battle mage corps, through three large-scale counter-offensives, has successfully pushed the invading Demon forces from the Evil Moon Mountain Range back to their frontline central fortress. We’ve also cut off nearly half of the dozens of supply lines they established…]

Hearing this, everyone posted messages of congratulations. It seemed that with a powerful anti-demon standard-issue magic artifact like the “Gun of Annihilation,” the Federation could launch independent cross-border counter-offensives against the Demons even without the assistance of the Church and the allied armies of the seven wizard kingdoms. This was good news for all Spellcasters living on the southern continent.

[Frost Giant: Heh heh, you guys are fighting a heated battle in the Northern Barren Lands, but how come I hear the Church stabbed you in the back while you were at it… They allowed several surprise demon troops from Broken Fang Valley to invade the west, wreaking havoc in the human settlements for hundreds of kilometers around and churning the place into a muddy mess?]

Fell Hoden, the Son of Flame, gnashed his teeth in anger as he read the sardonic comment from his long-time rival and “Star-Marked Friend” on the Magic Brain crystal screen. But as nasty as the words were, they weren’t meant just to provoke him. The guy was overtly and covertly condemning the Church for its shameless crime of ignoring the safety of their fellow Humans and standing by while a non-human race invaded and slaughtered common folk.

As expected, it immediately sparked a discussion among the Forum members.

[Ghost Captain: A bunch of shortsighted holy rollers! No matter how intense the conflict between the Federation and the Church becomes, no matter how fierce their civil war, as fellow Humans, jointly resisting the non-human invasion to protect our own kind should be the absolute end line! Do they still have the face to preach their hypocritical doctrine of “God loves all”?]

[Spellshield: On one hand, they are condoning the Demon invasion and allowing our kin to be slaughtered… On the other hand, it might also be because our small-scale conflicts with them along the St. Valen and Da’ers line are gradually intensifying, causing their forces to be a bit stretched.]

[Earth’s Favored: You should be thankful they haven’t yet been shameless enough to push throngs of believers forward as human shields to confront you head-on… Otherwise, this supernatural civil war, currently confined to the central kingdom, would likely spread across the entire continent, and the situation would become completely unsalvageable.]

The Barkley Duchy, where Earth’s Favored resided, was adjacent to St. Valen. Compared to the Evil Moon Mountain Range thousands of kilometers away, he was clearly more concerned about the internal human conflict breaking out near his homeland and desperately hoped it wouldn’t spread and affect his country.

Harvey watched in silence for a while as the crowd passionately cursed the Radiant Church. Seeing that the mood was just about right, he slowly switched to his administrator handle and served up the “main course” of today’s gathering.

[Administrator Turing: Everyone, the Spellcaster Forum is reopening access for new members today. I’m sure you’ve all heard something about it, one way or another?]

[The Scorching Sovereign: Mr. Turing, I wonder how many points we’ll have to pay for this new recruitment, and are there any other entry requirements?]

[Administrator Turing: It’s very simple. This round of recruitment will release five spots. One spot can be exchanged for one thousand points. Each full-permission member is limited to one exchange only. Worldly currency or other magical materials cannot be used to offset the point cost…]

Following the administrator’s words, the chat room fell completely silent.

One thousand points. This was no small sum. At the very least, it was an amount that a single member could not possibly accumulate. There were places to spend points everywhere on the Forum: setting up private encrypted chat rooms, fees for Anonymous Consignment, tiered payments for browsing the Magic Encyclopedia, instant Magic Net teleportation of bulk goods…

They enjoyed the convenient magical services provided by the Forum, which were generations ahead of their time, and acquired valuable magical knowledge and experimental materials through risk-free trades. It was only right to pay points for such things.

Not to mention, under the Forum’s guidance, the members had fostered an unprecedented spirit of unity and mutual aid. Whenever they encountered difficult problems, they could receive wholehearted help from the Forum and other members at any time. For all members, this benefit was priceless.

One hundred points for the first recruitment, an auction value of five hundred points for the second… and one thousand points for the third…

A startling thought faintly emerged in every member’s mind: if access to the Forum could only be exchanged for points, it would become increasingly difficult and expensive. This meant that if one wanted to bring members of their own group or faction into the Forum without spending points, they would have to, at the very least, make an outstanding contribution to the Forum, just like the Federation had.

Chapter 312: Five-Year Compulsory Education

After a heavy snow that lasted for three days, the entire pioneer territories were blanketed in a thick layer of snow.

Translucent prisms of ice clung to the eaves, shattering with a crisp crackle whenever a gust of freezing wind howled past.

The bitter cold outside did not affect the children studying intently in their classrooms. From the moment the pioneer territories’ public school was built, Harvey had insisted on installing heated copper pipes. He couldn’t bear to let the territory’s future “saplings and flowers” shiver in the cold while they learned and grew.

“Teacher Sophia! Why aren’t ‘sun’ and ‘sunlight’ described with the same word? Why do they have two separate names?”

“Teacher Sophia! Aren’t ‘flower’ and ‘flower bud’ both talking about the flowers that grow in the garden? What’s the difference?”

“Teacher Sophia…”

Sophia, who had once served as a private tutor for a noble family, stood at the lectern. She closed her textbook with a hint of resignation, maintaining a gentle smile as she patiently explained, “Of course they’re different. The words you mentioned have similar meanings, but they don’t refer to the same thing… The sun releases warm sunlight, and flowers grow buds before they bloom…”

Although the barren landers and southerners belonged to the same human ethnicity, thousands of years of living in different regions and environments had led to significant divergence in their language systems—at the very least, there were many differences in accent and common vocabulary.

Sophia had discovered that the older the native barren landers were, the greater the differences in their speech and accent. Sometimes, when they spoke too quickly, she found it difficult to understand them clearly and could only grasp the general meaning. It wasn’t a complete failure to communicate, but it was close.

In this, she had to admire the Lord’s foresight in matters of education—starting with the children. Having the children who grew up in the new territory learn and use the same language and writing system would help them integrate more quickly and shed their regional prejudices and discrimination.

At least it would be an improvement on the current situation, where most of the native barren landers and the new immigrants from the south looked down on each other, with a subtle undercurrent of trivial conflicts over habits and beliefs.

The concept of the “New Northern Realmer,” repeatedly mentioned at the very beginning of the primary education outline personally written by the Lord, was an attempt to instill in this new generation a fundamental idea of unity, regardless of their regional origins.

Sophia was currently in her internship period as a trainee teacher. Although the public school was desperately short of teachers, her supervisor had only assigned her a few grammar classes in the primary education department. For now, she was only responsible for teaching three classes the introductory courses on literacy, reading, writing, and grammar.

Her salary wasn’t a single coin less, but her workload was significantly lighter—at least compared to Mr. Kolun next door, who taught arithmetic. She didn’t have to stay up all night memorizing and understanding the “nine-nines multiplication table” compiled by the Lord. As a formal teacher, he first had to study the new material himself before he could teach it to his students.

She had heard that Mr. Kolun also taught at the adult night literacy school. His daily teaching schedule was packed to the brim. Being older and not so nimble on his feet, it must have been incredibly taxing for him.

“Alright, my dear children, that’s all for today’s grammar lesson…”

“Teacher Sophia?” A colleague from the Primary Education Department poked her head into the classroom, stopping Sophia as she was preparing to dismiss the class and pack up. “A message just came from City Hall while you were teaching, so you didn’t get the notice. Please stay at the school for a while after your class ends…”

“Is something the matter?” Sophia asked, puzzled.

Her colleague’s smile vanished. In a serious, low voice, she said, “The Lord and the academy’s director, Mr. Astaren, will be here at five in the afternoon for an inspection. The directors of the primary, intermediate, and advanced education departments are on high alert and have asked all teachers to stay behind to hear the Lord’s instructions.”

…

Just as the afternoon bell struck its fifth chime, Lord Harvey and Chief Advisor Astaren appeared punctually in the pioneer territories’ public school’s auditorium. Gazing at the dozens of teachers from various departments sitting primly below, Harvey spoke directly, without any preamble.

“Before the end of winter, I want the public school’s primary and intermediate departments to expand their enrollment and admit the children of the new immigrants from the south.”

Astaren methodically opened his workbook and reported in a clear, rational tone, “My lord, given the current number of teachers, I’m afraid that will be difficult to achieve in such a short time… In a territory with a population of twenty thousand, there are nearly three thousand children eligible for schooling. The Primary Education Department’s maximum capacity can only accommodate fifty percent of them…”

The population statistics compiled by the two alchemical lifeforms, Rainer and Astaren, were remarkably precise, with a margin of error that rarely exceeded double digits. In the pioneer territories’ population of twenty thousand, excluding youths who were already sixteen and old enough to work, there were indeed over three thousand children between the ages of eight and sixteen eligible for education.

However, the territory’s only public school currently had fewer than fifty teachers across all departments. The teachers responsible for the primary department’s introductory literacy courses alone made up more than half of that number, and even then, they could only manage to run twenty introductory classes for fewer than one thousand enrolled children.

The director of the Primary Education Department also spoke up frankly in a low voice, “My Lord, there are simply too many children. Schooling is free, and the school even provides a hearty, nutritious lunch. Nearly every family with a resident in a formal job is willing to send their children to school… Our current teachers can’t handle them all, and we don’t have enough classrooms, unless…”

“Unless the Education Department triples its staff and doubles the size of the public school…” Astaren answered meticulously.

Harvey scratched his head in frustration. Where was he supposed to find more people for the Education Department? In this benighted, dark world, shrouded in religious faith and supernatural mana, ruled by feudal nobles, the literacy and education rate was pitifully low, not even reaching one percent.

To establish the Education Department and implement modern universal education, he had scoured the entire pioneer territories just to assemble this group of “feudal intellectuals” who could master basic literacy, writing, grammar, and arithmetic. He had even lowered the recruitment standards, going so far as to hire a retired old stonemason who knew how to carve letters on steles as a teacher.

He closed his eyes and thought for a moment, then said decisively, “Change the current teaching model. I have a way to solve the teacher shortage… Have the children teach themselves as much as possible!”

“Teach themselves?”

“But… how is that possible?”

“That’s right, self-study! Primary education will consist of one public lecture per day, teaching the most basic literacy skills. The Education Department will distribute standardized textbooks for them to practice on their own. There’s no need for primary teachers to supervise them constantly, nor will there be any compulsory exams or tests.”

Astaren was taken aback. He argued, “The educational outcome would be very poor that way. It would be like the adult night literacy classes—without supervision, it’s all up to self-discipline. We’d be lucky if one in ten children actually learns anything.”

Harvey gave a slight laugh and said calmly, “It doesn’t matter. Every one that learns is a victory. It’s better than the current situation where we have to limit enrollment due to a lack of staff, turning away more than half the children who can’t read a single word. Free education at least gives them a chance.”

These children’s parents are adults who work and live in the territory. They understand better than anyone that a certain level of education is required to get a high-paying job. Having secured their own food and warmth, they certainly won’t stand by and watch their descendants take on low-paying work as well.

“Starting today, the Education Department will issue a new education system based on my proposal…” Harvey clapped his hands, drawing everyone’s attention back to him. “From now on, the public school will only provide five years of free education. The first three years will be for primary introductory education. After passing an assessment, they will advance to intermediate vocational and technical education in their fourth year… Two years after that, they will graduate and can join the various production departments.”

“A small number of outstanding students, after completing their intermediate vocational education, may, depending on the situation, enroll in the advanced education department. These youths will be the reserve talent for the territory’s future administration.”

“My Lord… what about the Spellcaster Academy…?” asked Durt Holden, the director of the Spellcaster Academy, which was affiliated with the Education Department, in a low voice.

Harvey glanced at the young director and smiled. “I have separate arrangements for your academy. I’ll speak with you privately later.”

Chapter 313: Building the Spellcaster Academy

“Durt, how are the alchemy and magic apprentices in your Spellcaster Academy faring?”

Harvey asked with a smile, holding a cup of hot tea in the school dean’s office.

Durt wrung his hands, a look of shame on his face. “My lord, the Spellcaster Academy currently has only seventy-six alchemy and magic apprentices, divided among the Alchemy, Magic, and Potions disciplines. Due to a shortage of magic instructors, Chris, Egnor, and I are all currently serving as instructors…”

Less than a third of these apprentices were children native to the pioneer territories who possessed a Spellcaster’s talent. This was a point that had long troubled and frustrated Durt. By all rights, after receiving their initiation, they should have been able to select at least one in a thousand children with the gift. A duchy capital like Goldshine City, with a population of thirty to fifty thousand in the city and its surrounding towns, could easily fill a small, public Federation magic academy, producing a hundred official Spellcaster apprentices for the Federation.

Yet here in the pioneer territories of the Northern Barren Lands, from a population of over twenty thousand, they couldn’t even scrape together enough children for a single thirty-person magical initiation class. It couldn’t be a problem with the constitutions of the native barren lands commoners, especially since many of them were new immigrants who had originally lived in the south.

“Could it be that my method for discovering and testing their Spellcaster talent is wrong?” Durt was beginning to doubt his own past experience. “But this is clearly the standard testing method the Federation has used for a hundred years… the mental energy and mana tolerance test…”

Harvey couldn’t help but recall his own magical initiation as a boy, conducted by the royal court’s Spellcaster advisor. At age eight, one could be tested for talent using a mana potion and a mental energy synchronizer. If by fifteen one still couldn’t tolerate the mana potion or activate the synchronizer, they were basically declared to have no future with the path of magic.

“Don’t be anxious for now,” Harvey said, his voice gentle and comforting. “The children of the pioneer territories have only risen above the poverty line in the last few years. For many of them, their families have been completely illiterate for generations. It is indeed difficult to immediately discover talented Spellcaster apprentices among them.”

Durt breathed a sigh of relief, though his worry remained. “I originally thought that establishing the Spellcaster Academy would supply some probationary apprentices for the understaffed Alchemy Laboratory, infirmary, and magical munitions factory, but who knew…”

He was too embarrassed to mention that, for many research and development experiments at the magical munitions factory, Harvey, the Lord himself, had to personally step in and lead a group of the territory’s high-level casters to perform repetitive tests that should have been done by magic apprentices.

“I’ve already made arrangements for this. If our own talent pool is insufficient, then we’ll bring in talent from the outside!” Harvey, on the other hand, was not discouraged. He grinned. “I have already sent letters of invitation to the Dwarves and the Elves, asking them each to send some of their gifted youths. We will provide them with a magical initiation, and in return, they will work for the territory for five to eight years as repayment.”

Durt froze, so shocked he nearly leaped to his feet. “My Lord! Non-human races are not allowed to learn human magic! This… this has been a traditional rule since the time of the Ancient Magic Council!”

Harvey rolled his eyes, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “What a bullshit rule! Humans aren’t supposed to take in half-elves either! But look at Egnor, isn’t he doing just fine in the territory?”

As a former official member of the Federation, Durt’s voice trembled. “The Federation might turn a blind eye because of your status as a partner, but if the Magic Council of the seven wizard kingdoms finds out, their condemnation alone would be enough to drown us.”

Harvey waved a dismissive hand, unconcerned. “You don’t need to worry about that. I have my own ways of handling and coordinating things. Your only task right now is to prepare and make proper arrangements for the coming non-human magic exchange students.”

The Magic Council of the seven wizard kingdoms? Harvey thought. Many of their core high-rank members are on my Magic Net Casters Forum, hoping to earn more points and shove more of their own faction’s members in to seize greater benefits…

…

Durt pressed his lips together, no longer trying to argue with the Lord about these old, backward traditional issues. After all, the man had saved his life. The Federation’s branch in St. Valen was gone, crushed between the Church and the nobility. Clinging tightly to this powerful high-level caster, who was also close with his own uncle, was his greatest support and hope for future advancement on the path of magic.

“Then… how should I arrange for this group of non-human apprentices?”

“Didn’t you divide them into Alchemy, Magic, and Potions disciplines? Just test their individual talents the same way you would with human magic apprentices, then scatter them throughout the classes.”

Durt’s mood eased considerably, and he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “My lord, you don’t know? The Dwarves’ racial magic talent is restricted to channeling, absorbing, and casting only earth-elemental magic. The Elves, similarly, can only perceive the natural elements that exist within the Magic Net. This is why we human Spellcasters scornfully refer to them as ‘magical gnomes’…”

As he spoke, he glanced cautiously at the door to the dean’s office, as if afraid the half-elf Egnor would burst in and give him a beating at any moment.

“Huh? Is that really how it is?” Harvey scratched his head in embarrassment. “Back in my magic academy… I don’t think I ever learned any of these common facts about the non-human races…”

He felt a bit sheepish. After all, among the many Spellcaster academies on the southern continent, his old Necromancy Magic Academy was a classic esoteric “diploma mill.” Both its teaching quality and faculty were what one might call rudimentary. It didn’t offer many advanced magic disciplines, focusing instead primarily on communing with its “silent teachers.”

“Then just open two separate disciplines. Chris will be in charge of teaching the Dwarf apprentices, and Egnor… will be in charge of the Elf apprentices.”

Durt spoke carefully, “Egnor is… a half-elf. Would he be willing to teach these… Elf apprentices who once hated and despised him for his mixed blood?”

Harvey immediately recalled the circumstances under which he had rescued Egnor, and how the man often wore his hair long to deliberately hide his damaged, pointed ears. A wave of emotion washed over him.

“Sigh… that is a problem. Asking him to repay scorn with kindness is truly not easy. I’ll go and try to persuade him myself. If it really doesn’t work, I’ll have Astaren teach them personally.”

In any case, these non-human magic apprentices were, for him, primarily a means to forge a closer alliance with the Elves and Dwarves on the Spellcaster Forum, thereby balancing the Federation’s currently dominant faction. As a bonus, he would also gain a ready-made batch of magic apprentices who would provide five to eight years of free labor for his pioneer territories.

As for how much they could learn, and how much knowledge they could take back with them, that would depend entirely on his mood and their subsequent performance.

Chapter 314: Non-Human Exchange Students

“Steelbristle, look at this city! It’s so clean and new. Even the streets are flat and straight… And the houses on either side, by the Earth Mother, they look as if they were cast from a single mold.”

A group of young Burrowing Dwarves walked along the streets of the pioneer territories, gazing left and right, clicking their tongues in constant amazement.

The dwarf in the lead appeared slightly older. A somewhat thick clump of curled whiskers had grown on his chin, which seemed to be frequently and meticulously groomed, giving it a dark, glossy look.

“Hmm… The City of Magic, Araye, which Lord Copperhammer visited, must be even more prosperous and magnificent than this, right? The scale of human kingdoms and cities is truly astounding…” Steelbristle, the young leader of the group, couldn’t help but marvel.

He then stole a glance at the soldier leading the way in front and turned to whisper a reminder to his companions, “Leader Noli and Lord Copperhammer repeatedly warned us before we left: after arriving, we must observe and learn as much as possible. We absolutely must not be outdone by that group of apprentices sent by the Elves. Our race’s reputation and honor are at stake…”

The soldier led them a little further before they soon arrived at a walled, terraced building next to a small garden in the middle of a street. The lead soldier waved at them with a smile, gesturing for them to draw closer.

“Gentlemen…” The soldier bent down, his attitude friendly, toward the group of visitors from the south, who only reached his chest in height but had arms thicker than his thighs. “This is the territory’s Spellcaster Academy. Someone from the academy will be here shortly to receive you. Our only duty was to guide you here…”

The young leader, Steelbristle, smiled back politely. After a moment’s thought, he took two crystal-clear, pale red gemstones from a leather pouch at his waist. They were a specialty of Hollowhearth City, a type of decorative gem very popular in the south. While not priceless, they were still quite valuable.

“Thank you for guiding us, Commander. A small gift to express our gratitude…”

The lead soldier’s expression changed in an instant. He straightened up, his face stern. “What is the meaning of this? I am a professional soldier of the Territorial Defense Force, not one of those shameless vassal guards under a southern noble! We do not accept bribes or gifts. Take them away! Take them away!”

Steelbristle froze on the spot, his open palm holding the two gemstones, standing there in embarrassment.

Another dwarf by his side quickly stepped forward, pulled back his outstretched arm, and took an exquisite pewter flask from the pack on his back. He said with an apologetic smile, “Our apologies, Commander! Please forgive our rudeness and disrespect, but please, accept this humble gift. It is a specialty brew of the Dwarves. It’s not a bribe or a valuable, just a harmless trifle.”

The officer’s expression softened considerably, but he still waved his hand and politely refused the dwarf’s kind offer.

The main gate of the Spellcaster Academy behind them suddenly swung open, and a hearty laugh reached their ears. “Hahaha, young guests, don’t trouble yourselves. The soldiers of the Territorial Army neither accept bribes nor are they permitted to drink. You shouldn’t make things difficult for them…”

Steelbristle turned to see a young Spellcaster of about twenty, dressed in a simple, short-style caster’s robe, standing on the steps of the academy gate and smiling at them.

“You are…”

“Chris Byrd, the head of the territory’s Alchemy Laboratory and also the vice dean of the Spellcaster Academy…”

Chris enthusiastically led the group of young Burrowing Dwarves into the main hall of the academy’s main building. After looking around for a moment, he asked in a warm voice, “Did Hollowhearth City just send you young ones over like this? Without an older person to lead you?”

Steelbristle shook his head, a bit awkwardly, then puffed out his chest and replied, “Mr. Byrd, I am the one leading the group.”

“Alright then… The Elves arrived a little before you, and they’ve already been settled into the apprentice dormitories… You will be living with them. The academy was only recently established, so the living conditions are a bit harsh. My apologies for that.”

The dwarves all waved their hands, indicating that it was no problem. Back in Hollowhearth City, they were used to living in Dwarven arched houses made of half stone brick and half earthen kiln. Even if the pioneer territories hadn’t prepared a place for them to stay, they would have been perfectly fine with finding a slope outside the city to dig a cave dwelling or build a hut. They always remembered their task and mission: they were here to learn the advanced magical knowledge of humans, not for a life of leisure and pleasure.

Chris nodded, very satisfied with the attitude of these non-human exchange students. He then took out a stack of small cards with exquisite and intricate patterns from his robes, distributed them to the group, and instructed, “Outsiders are not permitted to enter the Lord’s pioneer territories at will. To move about freely, you must carry this identification card with you at all times. If you encounter patrol police in gray uniforms with strange metal batons at their waists, you must voluntarily present your ID for their inspection… Do not, under any circumstances, get into a conflict with them.”

He paused, then added another reminder, “You are free to wander the Market District and the Academy District as you please. However, do not go to the Industrial Zone, the administrative district, or the Military Barracks, and do not linger there for too long. The Castle District, where the Lord resides, is strictly off-limits unless you are summoned. Understood?”

Steelbristle clutched the stack of hard paper cards in his hand and subconsciously nodded in a daze. “Understood!”

“Very good. Then let me take you to the apprentice dormitories first!”

Chris turned to leave. The young leader hurriedly took a couple of steps and gently tugged on his sleeve, asking anxiously, “Mr. Byrd! When… when can we begin to study magic?”

This was the sole important purpose of their trip. For this, they would not give up easily, no matter how harsh the learning environment was or how scornfully their magic mentors treated them. After all, obtaining this precious opportunity to study had been incredibly difficult.

“What’s the rush? Classes don’t officially start until next week. You still need to take an aptitude test, after which you’ll be divided by subject.”

Chris gave a helpless, wry smile. He gestured for a staff member responsible for receiving and settling these non-human apprentices and quickly sent them off to the nearby apprentice dormitory area.

…

“By the Earth… Mother!” The young dwarf stood at the entrance of a room in the two-story dormitory building, clutching the standard-issue apprentice uniform he had just received, his eyes wide as he stood frozen in place.

This… this was what Mr. Byrd called… living conditions… that were a bit harsh?

It was a spacious single room of over twenty square meters, with two exquisite glass windows that were shut tight, not letting in the slightest draft of wind or snow. Along the walls to the left and right were wooden bunk beds. The beds were laid with cotton-padded mattresses and covers that looked warm and soft just by looking at them. The pillows were plump, as if stuffed full of some fluffy filling. At the head of the bed, a thick fur blanket was even thoughtfully draped…

No! It was far more than just a spacious room and comfortable beds!

By the windows, there was a desk large enough for four people to sit side-by-side without feeling crowded. The desktop had clearly been carefully polished and oiled, without a trace of roughness. Under the desk were four small, lockable storage cabinets.

The staff member in charge of settling in the students gave the young dwarf, who was too stunned to enter, a gentle push. “The dorms are a bit tight, so like the Elven students, you’ll have to stay in a four-person room for now…”

He casually pointed to a small room with a closed door on the right side of the entrance and explained patiently, “Each dorm has a private washroom. Remember to flush after using the toilet. Hot water will be supplied centrally at six in the morning and nine at night, for one hour each time. If you miss it, you’ll have to wash up and shower with ice-cold water, so don’t forget!”

A private washroom… hot water… showers…

Steelbristle opened his mouth but found he couldn’t speak. All he could do was hold the two sets of interchangeable apprentice uniforms and stare blankly as the dorm administrator turned and left to arrange for his other kinsmen.

“Is… is all this really for us?”

He walked over to the bunk bed and, under the watchful eyes of his companion, carefully sat down on the soft mattress. He reached out a rough palm and gently stroked the fur blanket.

So soft… and so warm!

From the spacious corridor of the second-floor dormitory, the sound of the dorm administrator clapping his hands and shouting loudly could be heard.

“Students, after you’ve unpacked your luggage, please take your student IDs and go to that small building next door with the ‘Academy Dining Hall’ sign for dinner! If you’re late, you’ll have to gnaw on hard bread in your dorms!”

Chapter 315: Goods Fair on the Barren Lands

It was a statutory public holiday in the pioneer territories, but unlike most of the populace who chose to sleep in, Harvey had to struggle out of his warm, comfortable bed bright and early.

This was entirely due to his two magical-powered subordinates who seemed to have been born to work: Chief Advisor Astaren and Municipal Director Rainer. After all, as alchemical lifeforms, they had no need for food or rest. When their rational work mode was running at full steam, they could handle in a single day what would take an ordinary official two or three days to complete.

If Harvey ever wanted to slack off and rest, or pretend to be asleep in bed, Astaren would maintain his composure and handle official business in the study while he waited. But Rainer, his oldest companion, couldn’t sit still. He would either quietly ask the personal guards outside the bedroom every fifteen minutes or sneak into the living room adjacent to the Lord’s chambers to stand watch.

Their specialty was proactively motivating their leader—a classic case of subordinates putting pressure on their superior.

“My lord, I still believe this… goods fair… should be held only in Jackdaw Town or Grizzly Keep. Allowing those merchant guilds with invitations to come to our pioneer territories… I feel it will inevitably cause trouble. There will be too many prying eyes.”

Astaren had always highly approved of Harvey’s concept of “intellectual and technological property rights.” When conducting trade or business cooperation with the merchant guilds from the south, he always maintained an attitude of vigilance and distrust.

“No, let them come to the Northern Realm. Only by coming to the pioneer territories themselves and witnessing how we’ve built this barren land into such a thriving and prosperous place in just a few short years will they have confidence in our business cooperation. Only then will they be willing to pull money from their pockets to sign large trade orders…”

It was a different way of “flexing their muscles,” distinct from violent intimidation through armed force.

Harvey yawned and, while enjoying a sumptuous breakfast, gave his instructions, “Limit the number of people per merchant guild, issue them temporary passes, and restrict their activities to the designated venue and the Market District for the duration of the fair.”

Spying on competitors for business secrets and stealing product formulas were traditional methods of business competition in this world. By comparison, price wars and secretly spreading negative rumors about rivals were considered standard, above-board practices. Harvey had once heard from his old friend, Vice-President Santos of the Dragonstone Merchant Guild, that some merchant guilds with royal or noble backing would even use force to strike at their competitors, gaining the upper hand by blockading trade routes and seizing their rivals’ workshops and warehouses.

Rainer nodded in deep agreement, adding, “The people brought by the merchant guilds this time will surely include many with official backgrounds from the southern kingdoms. It’s inevitable that some nobles’ spies will be mixed in. I’ll make a special point to remind Police Superintendent Yuliao to arrange for enough police to keep a close watch on these unruly opportunists.”

Harvey wiped his mouth, clapped his hands, and smiled. “Then let’s move on to discussing and finalizing the list of goods to be displayed and promoted at this goods fair!”

…

Three days later, on a morning when the heavy snow had just begun to clear, the Dragonstone Merchant Guild’s caravan was the first to arrive at Harvey’s pioneer territories in the Northern Realm.

Out of respect for his old friends and long-term partners, Harvey broke with convention and personally greeted them at the city gate. After a round of enthusiastic pleasantries, he led them into the city, heading directly for the fair’s venue in the Market District. The venue had been temporarily set up by knocking down the walls of three vacant shops in the Market District. The ground floor served as the product exhibition hall, while the upper floor had been prepared with rest and negotiation rooms for the visiting merchant guilds.

“Lord Harvey… oh, no, My Lord Harvey! It has been too long. The sudden plague and war in St. Valen truly delayed our trade cooperation for quite some time. It was a considerable loss for both of us!” The pot-bellied Vice-President Santos was very satisfied with the grand reception from Harvey, a treatment that clearly set him apart from the other invited guilds.

Any lingering dissatisfaction he had harbored about Harvey’s proposal to bring in multiple merchant guilds for competitive cooperation was instantly cast to the back of his mind. He cheerfully took the initiative to introduce the heads of the other invited merchant guilds.

“My Lord, this is President Andrew, an old friend of the Dragonstone Merchant Guild and one of the most prominent mine owners and gem merchants in the Barkley Duchy.”

“And this is Mr. Morgan, the trade director of the Faros Royal Merchant Guild. He’s mainly in charge of the land trade business in Erisburg.”

“Oh? The Faros Royal Merchant Guild?” Harvey asked with curiosity. “I’ve heard that your guild is the only organization on the southern continent that maintains a long-standing, good trading relationship with the Sea-folk. I’m very curious—what kind of goods produced by us Humans do those non-human races living on reefs and in archipelago currents purchase?”

The tall, thin, and refined-looking Director Morgan bowed in greeting before smiling and explaining slowly, “Heh, it’s true that most people know little about the Sea-folk. Although they spend half their time in the sea, they still need to return to land to rest and reproduce. But you can’t weave or farm on reefs, so they lack large quantities of cloth and furs… which have always been our main trade goods targeted at them.”

The sturdy, heavily bearded mine owner, Andrew, also took the opportunity to speak. “Respected Lord, through Santos’s introduction, we’ve become very interested in the magic stone… powered engine that you manufacture. It’s only thanks to Santos’s recommendation that we have the honor of coming here to discuss a potential partnership for the procurement of these alchemical instruments…”

Harvey smiled. “Gentlemen, there’s no need to rush. I’ve prepared many products with immense commercial value for this goods fair, not just the magic stone-powered engine. I suggest you all take a look at everything first before sitting down to talk things over.”

With that, he clapped his hands. Attendants began to unveil the products that had been covered with cloths in the exhibition hall, drawing the heads of the southern merchant guilds to gather around and examine them with great concentration.

“This is a high-quality spirit with a unique formula. I’ve named it—Icefield Vodka. Please, have a little taste and give me your feedback.”

Several merchants who clearly enjoyed a drink immediately took a small glass from the trays held by the attendants. They brought the glasses to their noses to sniff the aroma, then took a small sip, closing their eyes to savor the aftertaste.

“Whew! What a strong liquor! I’d bet that not even the Hussar Kingdom of Isengard, famous for its spirits, could brew a fine liquor so fiery on the palate yet with such a long finish!”

“Indeed, it’s truly a rare, finely crafted spirit! Unfortunately, the people where I’m from have never been fond of strong spirits, preferring mellow and crisp wines… I’m afraid the market for this liquor won’t be very good.”

Harvey didn’t rush to explain but waited leisurely by the side as they continued their discussion.

A few minutes later, the faces of the merchants who had drunk the liquor gradually flushed red, and large beads of sweat appeared on their foreheads. One of them, forgetting his decorum, unfastened the heavy fur coat draped over his shoulders. Still feeling too warm, he even unbuttoned several buttons on his formal inner shirt to let in some air.

“This liquor… just a tiny cup of this liquor has such a potent warming effect!”

Only then did Harvey say with a faint smile, “That’s right, gentlemen. This is actually a finely brewed medicinal liquor for warding off cold and dampness! During the brewing process, we add an alchemical plant, which not only allows the drinker to resist cold weather but also soothes the body’s circulation and channels. For those who suffer from chronic rheumatism and bone pain, it’s as effective as taking a specific remedy potion.”

Director Morgan was astonished. “My Lord, adding magical substances to civilian goods without authorization… this… this is expressly forbidden by the Federation!”

Harvey waved a hand, cutting off his doubt, and explained, “The Federation’s regulations state that only those magical substances already registered in the Codex of Alchemy and Magic Potions are not permitted for civilian use. The one used in my medicinal liquor is a unique alchemical plant native to the Northern Barren Lands… one that has never been discovered or made public. Therefore, it does not count as a prohibited substance.”

His explanation, which skillfully exploited an official loophole, earned the deep approval of the cunning old merchants present, who all nodded in agreement.

But a fiery glint flashed in the eyes of Director Morgan, who had been the first to raise the question. Dispelling cold and dampness, invigorating blood circulation—this was the exact medicinal product most urgently needed by the Sea-folk, who all suffered from bone pain due to living in the cold, salty sea for years!

If he could secure the exclusive rights to this “Icefield Vodka,” it would surely bring the Faros Royal Merchant Guild a fortune far greater than their overseas textile trade!

Chapter 316: The Civilian Popularization of Magical Technology

Harvey then enthusiastically introduced several other specialty products from the pioneer territories in the Northern Realm to the attending merchant guild leaders.

Among them, the fragrant medicinal soap, which could alleviate and cure various stubborn skin ailments, and the highly preservable canned food received unanimous praise and welcome. On the spot, the leaders of several merchant guilds specializing in maritime trade were eager to try, proposing to go upstairs with Harvey to privately discuss bulk purchasing matters.

“Gentlemen! Gentlemen, please don’t be so quick to make a decision! How about we talk slowly after we’ve finished introducing all of our products?” Harvey was already overjoyed, but he maintained a calm facade and gestured with his hands. “I can guarantee that these unique products from the pioneer territories are things you absolutely cannot buy anywhere in the south. Moreover, I assure you of their quality, and the prices are absolutely fair!”

He paused, then introduced a fur garment coated with rubber fruit extract, demonstrating its excellent waterproof and moisture-proof properties to the crowd, which drew a wave of admiration from the merchant guild members present.

…

After all the products had been presented one by one, the merchant guild leaders gathered in small groups and began discussing in low voices. Harvey did not rush them, giving them ample time to consider. He stood up and left the exhibition hall on the first floor, heading to a lounge on the second floor to wait for a short while.

The door was soon knocked upon gently. A personal guard led in Vice-President Santos, the gem merchant and mine owner Andrew, and the Faros Royal Merchant Guild’s trade director, Mr. Morgan.

Harvey’s heart stirred. He knew that these three wanted to leverage the Dragonstone Merchant Guild’s good relationship with him to get a head start and secure some advantages for their future trade cooperation.

“Lord Harvey, I didn’t expect to see so many new and high-quality goods produced in your territory after just over a year.”

Vice-President Santos of the Dragonstone Merchant Guild had always been polite and respectful toward Harvey, even back when he was a solitary Necromancer. His attitude had never changed.

The robust Andrew was more direct. “Respected Lord, I’ve seen with my own eyes the alchemical instruments you’ve built in Santos’s mine. They replace manual labor for transporting ore, pumping water from the shafts… They’re simply comparable to Giants of immense strength! With just a few cheap low-grade magic stones, they can work tirelessly for the better part of a day!”

He rubbed his hands in anticipation as he spoke. “Name your price! Of course, I don’t expect to receive the same preferential price as this fellow Santos, but I can assure you my sincerity is no less than his!”

Harvey explained with a smile, “What I’m selling is not just a simple magic stone-powered engine. To use it in your mine, you’ll also need a complementary rail system installed. Furthermore, the instrument itself requires regular maintenance and professional repairs… these subsequent services all come with a fee.”

Andrew raised his glass of “Icefield Vodka” in a toast to Harvey, saying without a hint of concern, “No problem at all. In fact, that’s even better for me. I plan to order twenty of these… magic stone-powered engines from you. As for all the supporting equipment and personnel, feel free to make the arrangements…”

Tsk, tsk, tsk! Birds of a feather really do flock together. A big shot like the Dragonstone Merchant Guild introduces business partners who are also big shots. He dares to place an order without even settling on a price.

“For Vice-President Santos’s sake, I sold him the instruments and equipment at a twenty percent discount off the original price. I’ll give you a fifteen percent discount!” Harvey exchanged a meaningful look with Santos. “If our cooperation this time goes smoothly, you can enjoy the same discount as the Dragonstone Merchant Guild next time…”

Seeing that Andrew’s proactive move had immediately paid off, Mr. Morgan, the trade director of the Faros Royal Merchant Guild, also hurried forward. After bowing, he said politely, “Lord, we would also like to purchase ten magic stone-powered engines… At the same time, we hope to establish a long-term trade partnership with you for the bulk purchase of your Icefield Vodka. I was wondering about the price…”

Harvey waved his hand and generously declared, “You were both personally recommended by my old friend, Vice-President Santos, so you will naturally enjoy the same discount. Any goods you procure from me will be cheaper than for those gentlemen downstairs!”

This gesture immediately made Santos feel that he had been given a great deal of face. His face, already flushed from the alcohol, glowed as he laughed heartily.

Afterward, Director Morgan also placed an order for a batch of medicinal soap and canned food. For a royal merchant guild like theirs, which primarily dealt in maritime trade, these goods were hot items that were guaranteed to sell. Even with the cost of transporting them all the way from the Northern Realm to the southern coast, the profit margins were incredibly lucrative.

Harvey had someone fetch the pre-prepared order contracts and quickly signed the agreements with the two “big shots,” smiling as he watched them carefully tuck the contracts into their coats before taking their leave.

…

In the spacious and luxurious lounge, only Vice-President Santos remained, aside from Harvey and a few of his personal guards.

“My old friend, you came here this time… but you don’t seem to be very interested in the goods I just showcased?”

Santos shook his head. “No, I’m interested in all of them. I just need to let my subordinates finalize the purchase quantities. In any case, I know you would never shortchange me on the price.”

This man was indeed a sly old fox of a merchant. With a few smooth words, he had effortlessly bridged the gap and pulled his relationship with Harvey even closer.

“Lord Harvey, when I arrived in the pioneer territories, the marvelous alchemical carriage I was riding in… passed by the Icefield River along your domain’s walls. If my old eyes weren’t deceiving me… I’m certain I saw a strangely shaped ship breaking through the mostly frozen river at high speed. That ship… it was made of steel, wasn’t it?”

Although the Vice-President appeared open and candid, Harvey could still detect a trace of apprehension in his tone and micro-expressions. To so directly probe into the secrets of a Spellcaster’s creations required considerable risk and a certain amount of courage.

“My old friend, you shouldn’t hope for that steel ship. It’s a magical creation… it cannot be sold to you for a price.”

Harvey rejected the other party’s tentative proposal with considerable sincerity.

Seeing that he hadn’t angered Harvey, Santos let out a sigh of relief and immediately shifted his focus. “Then… what about those alchemical instruments I saw on my way to the venue? People were riding them, and they moved quickly along the roads just by pedaling with their legs… I believe they were called bicycles, right?”

Harvey gave a wry smile. “Even if I sold them to you, the market for them probably wouldn’t be very good. Besides my territory, where in any city in the south can you find roads so flat and even that these bicycles can travel on them smoothly and safely?”

He pulled Santos over to the lounge window and pointed at the commoners leisurely riding their bicycles back and forth on the street below. “This type of human-powered vehicle has certain requirements for road conditions. On dirt paths and stone roads full of potholes, it’s very easy to fall. They are not nearly as practical as horses and carriages… I can give you a few to take back as novelties to please those southern nobles, but let’s forget about bulk orders…”

Santos squinted, studying the scene outside the window for a moment before sighing with a sense of dejection. He followed Harvey back to his seat, looking crestfallen.

For a guild leader with a sharp eye and a keen business sense, discovering an unprecedented new business opportunity only to be unable to profit from it was quite a blow to his morale.

Seeing this, Harvey chuckled softly and offered a quiet consolation, “Don’t be disheartened, my old friend. The men you brought with you are all returning fully loaded, so how could I possibly let you go back empty-handed? This time, I’ve prepared a great business deal especially for you!”

He clapped his hands, and two attendants entered, carrying a wooden tray on which sat several ordinary-looking crystal glass bottles.

“What do you think? Are you interested in becoming my authorized distributor for civilian-use anti-plague potions in the south? The kind with exclusive sales rights…”

Chapter 317: Exclusive Rights to Medicine

Plague potions, Malaria potions, Smallpox potions, Frost Plague potions, Bloodworm Disease potions…

George Santos, Vice-President of the Dragonstone Merchant Guild, stared at the thumb-sized crystal vials arranged neatly on the tray before him, so stunned that he couldn’t regain his senses for a long time.

Admittedly, after being purified by the high-rank Radiant Divine Magic of the Church’s healing Priests, these common plagues and stubborn illnesses of the mortal world could basically be cured. But that was a privilege reserved for the nobility; common folk were not worthy of attracting the attention and favor of the gods’ servants.

But to put it another way, how could true nobles possibly contract these filthy, incurable diseases? They traveled in convenient carriages, drank clean, crisp wine and spring water, and their castles and manors were kept impeccably clean by their servants. They neither competed with rats for territory and got bitten, nor did they set foot in the murky waters where bloodworms dwelled. Most would likely go their entire lives without ever encountering these infectious diseases.

“Rest assured, the formulas for these potions contain no magical substances explicitly forbidden by the Codex of Alchemy and Magic Potions. They are made of completely legal and legitimate, purely natural ingredients. As long as you can withstand the accusations and pressure from the Church, I believe they will soon replace the expensive divine art treatments and become the best-selling remedies.”

Purely natural ingredients? Could they be potions made from some undiscovered herbs? Wasn’t that the “witch medicine” touted by the rural witch doctors of the past? That would indeed face pressure and resistance from the Church. Those witch doctors, lacking any talent for spellcasting, were much easier to bully than Mages.

An idea sparked in Santos’s mind. He carefully picked up a glass vial and examined it closely. “Lord Harvey, can the magical components in these potions truly alleviate such highly contagious and stubborn diseases? Could it be…”

He suddenly recalled the plague that had broken out in the St. Valen Duchy not long ago. It had swept through the entire duchy with incredible speed, causing large numbers of infected refugees to flee in all directions. The surrounding nations were forced to seal their borders with armies to prevent the disease’s spread.

But that senseless plague, which had appeared out of nowhere, seemed to have been silently contained and then quickly subsided. Besides the Church and the Federation each claiming to possess a Specific Remedy, it seemed that the border region of the duchy where this Lord Harvey resided had been completely untouched by the disease.

The shrewd and calculating Vice-President narrowed his eyes, feeling as though he had grasped the crux of the matter—this pioneer lord, a Spellcaster, must have provided some kind of indispensable assistance in containing the plague’s spread.

“Lord Harvey, if we can obtain written approval from the Federation from you, our Dragonstone Merchant Guild is willing to take on the exclusive rights for all these potions… to become your sole pharmaceutical agent in the south.” As the words left his mouth, Santos could feel an irrepressible excitement and tremor in his own voice. This was the biggest deal he had encountered in his entire life!

Miraculous potions that could cure infectious diseases once considered terminal, and they could be mass-produced and supplied stably—he simply couldn’t imagine the immense profits he could reap for his guild.

If not for the backing of his family behind the merchant guild, the Dragonstone Merchant Guild would likely have become a thorn in the side of every merchant organization and Church power in the south the moment they secured the exclusive rights and the order, and officially began selling the potions.

As he took the business contract from Harvey, Santos’s hands were even trembling.

…

It was destined to be a sleepless night for most of the people invited to the pioneer territories for the goods fair.

George Santos stood by the window of his third-floor hotel room, gazing out at the city in the barren lands, still brilliantly lit amidst the deep night and the bitingly cold wind and snow. To a merchant, a place that remained bustling after nightfall signified greater prosperity and wealth. Brilliant candlelight represented commercial prosperity and a ceaseless flow of wealth.

But in the past, he had only witnessed such a city, with lights that never went out, burning bright all night long, in a few places like the City of Magic and the capital of Oland.

Yet this massive pioneer territory before him seemed in no way inferior to those renowned, prosperous metropolises of the south. Looking out from the third floor of the hotel, almost the entire territory was illuminated. Buildings that looked like production workshops emanated an incandescent white light; the bustling shops and taverns along the streets glowed with a golden-yellow light; and from the dense clusters of residences, which looked as if they had been copied from a single mold, shone the soft, orange-yellow lights of ten thousand homes.

Even the streets were lined with uniform metal lampposts every ten meters or so, each topped with what must be some kind of illuminating magic stone product, providing all-night lighting for pedestrians.

How extravagant!

Suddenly, a voice came from behind him. “So the secret to keeping this room constantly warm is in these few copper pipes embedded in the walls… Tsk, tsk. A pioneer territory established by a Spellcaster is truly magical and extraordinary in every way.”

Santos quickly turned and bowed to a young man in the room who was standing by the wall, observing it, but was dressed in the ordinary uniform of a guild employee. “President, I’m told it’s not just the guest hotels and the Lord’s Castle that have these magical devices. They’ve covered the entire territory with this thing they call a heating system. Almost every household can enjoy indoor warmth, without even needing to light a fireplace.”

The young man addressed as President waved his hand and asked in a low voice, “And how do they manage the endless flow of hot water from that copper pipe in the washroom?”

“The area around the hotel is full of patrol soldiers and guards arranged by the Lord. Our people can’t get out to investigate or move about… But I asked around. It seems the hot water flows from those tall, giant iron towers behind the houses. Beneath the towers, there’s a sealed shed called an equipment room, and occasionally you can see large plumes of scorching steam bursting out from it…”

The young President was silent for a moment before sighing softly. “I originally thought this Lord was deliberately showing off his marvelous creations and magical inventions to us. But it turns out that what we’re seeing and enjoying now are just the standard facilities that all the common folk in this pioneer territory use every day…”

He paused, then walked to the window himself and looked out at the city lights. “Only a place like this can fully tap into the potential of its people, making them willingly and proactively work, dedicating themselves to production day and night without Complaint, to provide this Mage Lord with a ceaseless flow of wealth and resources…”

What a pity that the foolish nobles and greedy rulers of the southern nations would never realize this. They would only ever cling tightly to the land and grain in their hands, keeping the ignorant masses shackled to the fields for the most mindless labor, and then desperately squeeze what pitiful taxes they could from them.

Santos stood behind him and cautiously suggested, “President… would you like me to make an introduction, for you to meet Lord Harvey in your official, public capacity?”

The young man narrowed his eyes and let out a self-deprecating chuckle. “There’s no need this time. We’ve gained such a huge advantage without providing equal value in return… Even if we met, we wouldn’t be treated as equals.”

It would be more appropriate to pay a formal visit after this medicine business, which would cover the entire south, was truly up and running by the Dragonstone Merchant Guild, bringing the other party a profit that was satisfactory enough to him.

Chapter 318: The Visitor Seeks Someone

“My Lord, the leader of the Harlow Port Merchant Guild from the Duchy of Cornwall is outside the castle, requesting an audience with you.”

Today was the final day of the three-day trade fair. Most of the attending merchant guilds had secured satisfactory purchase orders and were now leaving the barren lands one after another to return to the south.

Even the Dragonstone Merchant Guild, which had just signed an exclusive pharmaceutical partnership with Harvey, had bid him farewell early that morning before departing the city.

Except for this Harlow Port Merchant Guild…

Seated on the sofa in the study and enjoying a pleasant conversation with Harvey, the high-rank master of shapeshifting magic, Duncan, leisurely retrieved the alchemical prosthetic arm he had just removed from the coffee table and skillfully reattached it.

“My Lord, this is the merchant guild that Melissa and Jin have been keeping a close eye on—the one they discovered had Spellcasters hiding in their caravan…”

Harvey nodded. From the very first day these merchant guilds arrived in the pioneer territories, he had received detailed surveillance reports from both the Eye of Illusion and the Astrologer. Most of the guild delegations did indeed include some Bloodline Warriors with extraordinary powers, which was perfectly normal. After all, the heads of the major southern merchant guilds had come in person. Although the Dragonstone Merchant Guild had served as a reputable reference, they still had to ensure their own personal safety.

But this Harlow Port Merchant Guild was a special case. Two Spellcasters disguised as ordinary attendants and clerks were hidden among their ranks. Although the Eye of Illusion and his counterpart could only monitor from a distance and couldn’t get a precise lock, judging by the strength of their mana fluctuations, they were at least mid-rank.

It was not unheard of for merchant guilds to retain Spellcasters as advisors and bodyguards. But for a small, unknown merchant guild to have two mid-rank or higher Spellcasters in a single caravan, and to be so furtive about it, was highly suspicious.

“The leader of the Harlow Merchant Guild… is he seeking an audience alone? Or did he bring attendants?”

“My Lord, he brought two attendants. They were not seen carrying any weapons.”

Duncan let out a soft chuckle. “They certainly have some nerve! Don’t they know this is a Spellcaster’s territory? Daring to come knocking so rudely with just two mid-rank practitioners…”

Under circumstances of equal rank, when a foreign Spellcaster wished to meet a local resident Mage, it was customary to follow the traditional etiquette of ancient wizards. They were required to openly declare their identities and present their magic seal in advance as a formal request for a visit. Only after receiving an invitation from the master of the domain could they politely call.

To do otherwise, to sneak into another’s territory like this, was no different from an open provocation—a grave insult to the master of the land.

The Eye of Illusion politely pushed open the study door and bowed to Lord Harvey and his teacher, Duncan. He asked, “My Lord, teacher, Melissa and I are in the first-floor hall. Should we drive them away directly? Or… should we coordinate with the Lord’s Bloodline Warriors to capture them for interrogation?”

Duncan pushed himself up with one hand, his heavy metal body rising slowly from the sofa. He placed a hand over his chest and bowed to Harvey. “Lord, such a rude provocation is not worthy of your personal attention. Why don’t you let me, Melissa, and the others go down and teach them a lesson? We can detain them first and await your judgment. What do you say?”

Harvey quickly held up a hand and shook his head. He didn’t dare let this master of shapeshifting magic—one who had undergone alchemical prosthetic transplant surgery—act on his behalf. This was his Lord’s Castle. If a shapeshifting master with a body of steel cast a spell here, he’d probably punch a hole straight through the castle ceiling.

“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Duncan. I’ve never cared much for those ancient, traditional formalities. Since they’ve been under our close surveillance this entire time and haven’t done anything improper these past few days… they are merchant guild partners I invited. We must show them some basic courtesy. Since they have business to see me about privately, let’s go down and meet them together.”

…

“Mr. Reynolds, the other merchant guilds have all left after the conclusion of the fair. I wonder, what is the purpose of your visit?” Harvey sat at the head of the castle’s reception hall, holding a teacup as he calmly asked.

At his side stood the two high-rank Spellcasters, the Eye of Illusion and the Astrologer. Their teacher, Duncan, sat in a chair to the lower left, his face turned toward Harvey with a look of disdain, offering no pleasantries to the three visitors standing in the middle of the hall.

Ranks of Bloodline Warriors, Magical Energy Guns slung over their backs, lined both sides of the reception hall. Their burning gazes were fixed on the visitors, radiating undisguised hostility and vigilance.

The leader of the Harlow Port Merchant Guild, Reynolds, looked pale. He took out a handkerchief and repeatedly wiped the sweat from his brow. After bowing his head to Harvey, he said tremblingly, “My Lord, please forgive our presumption and rudeness. It’s just… I was entrusted by someone. I wish to find a person in your territory…”

“Oh?” Harvey squinted, a hint of surprise in his voice. “So coming here for business was secondary. Your real purpose was to find someone?”

His mind raced as he carefully reviewed everyone he had taken in since moving to the barren lands. Most were local refugees. Aside from Egnor the half-elf, whose identity was a bit sensitive, there shouldn’t have been anyone else worth them traveling such a great distance to find.

Could some person of high status have mixed in with the group of refugees from the south and inadvertently taken shelter in his territory?

“Who exactly are you looking for? What is their specific identity? And how did they come to my territory? What is their name?”

Harvey’s rapid-fire questions made the already terrified Reynolds even more flustered. He tremblingly took a letter sealed with a sigil from his coat, held it out to one of the personal guards, and explained in a low voice, “Please… please forgive me, My Lord. I… I don’t know the person’s real name at all. The lord who commissioned me to find him only gave me a strange magical letter. He instructed that only when I find that person… and he personally breaks the secret sigil on the letter, can the contents be read.”

The captain of the personal guard, Tommy, was just about to bow and hand the letter to Lord Harvey. But upon hearing that it was a magical letter sealed with a secret sigil, he grew worried that it might contain some strange trap. His eyes widened instantly as he activated his “Weakness Insight” bloodline talent, scanning the thin envelope back and forth several times like a human security scanner.

Harvey, however, spoke up. “With all due respect, trying to find your target in my territory with only a letter and a commissioner of unknown origin… your chances aren’t very high. Over twenty thousand people live here. I can’t possibly make them all abandon their daily work and production tasks to come and try to break the seal on this magical letter.”

Though his words were a refusal to help, they were frank and showed the other party enough courtesy. President Reynolds was suddenly left speechless.

Of the two men who had been standing silently behind him, one finally lost his patience. He took two steps forward and spoke. “Lord, the person we are looking for is a… Necromancer! One who has been living in hiding on the border of St. Valen! Given the discrimination and unfair treatment this faction receives from you orthodox Spellcasters, he is likely unwilling to reveal his identity and live openly around here. So… please allow us to freely enter and leave your territory, to search for any trace of him!”

What? A Necromancer? Living near Jackdaw Town all this time? Unwilling to reveal his identity?

As far as he knew, in the entire Grizzly Bear Territory, besides Master Anthony who had moved to Da’ers long ago, there were only two others, both officially registered members of the Federation who had been conscripted to serve in the Evil Moon Mountain Range during the first vile orc invasion.

How could he not have known that another secretive Necromancer colleague had been hiding in this border region where he had been living and working for the past three or four years?

Chapter 319: A Long-Awaited Message

“Free entry and exit to the Lord’s fiefdom, allowing you to turn the place upside down to find a Necromancer you’ve never even laid eyes on?” Duncan could no longer contain his temper, letting out a heavy, cold snort. “Even if someone from the Federation were here, they wouldn’t dare make such an absurd and disrespectful request to the Lord!”

He shot to his feet, shaking out his mage robes. Pointing a single hand at the two men standing behind Reynolds, the head of the Harrol Merchant Guild, he said contemptuously, “You two fellow practitioners of the magical arts, there’s no need to hide anymore. I demand you show the Lord the respect he is due, or else…”

The other man, who had been silent all this time, finally stepped forward. He bowed slightly in the traditional greeting of an ancient wizard and said calmly, “There’s no need for such anger, Mr. Advisor. And please, My Lord, forgive us for concealing our identities… After all, as my companion said, orthodox Spellcasters have never been particularly friendly toward us Necromancers. We could only do this to avoid unnecessary conflict and trouble.”

He gestured to his companion and introduced him, “This is Mr. White. As for me, you may simply call me Black.”

Harvey narrowed his eyes, a sense of wonder welling up inside him. This was the first time since graduating from the Academy of Necromancy that he had come face-to-face with his “fellow spellcasters” in the outside world. Given how few Necromancers there were, this meeting was, in a way, quite significant.

“It’s of no concern,” Harvey said, waving a hand to signal that Duncan should stop intimidating the three visitors on his behalf. “In my domain, there is no discrimination against any school of casting. You are free to reveal your identities openly.”

He paused, then asked with lingering confusion, “However… as for the Necromancer you mentioned, the one living in anonymity, I have truly never heard of him. Perhaps he has long since left this place and moved elsewhere to live in seclusion.”

Despite his words, Harvey politely accepted the magic letter presented by Tommy, the Captain of his personal guard, and glanced at the sigil pattern on the seal.

Hmm?

This!

Harvey sat bolt upright. He leaned in for a closer look and then, in his excitement, shot to his feet.

“Wait! I know who you’re looking for!”

He descended the steps, holding up a hand to stop the two Necromancers from eagerly asking questions. In a low voice, he said, “Please, rest here for a moment. Wait for me… Mr. Duncan, please attend to our three guests.”

With that, he strode quickly toward the study on the second floor of the castle, leaving everyone in the hall to stare at each other in confusion.

After returning to his study and ordering the door closed, Harvey, a smile playing on his lips, took out a folder from his desk drawer. He pulled out a few letters that had been opened long ago and carefully compared the sigils on them with the one on the secret letter under the lamplight.

“Ash Lambert, that guy! I thought he’d met an unfortunate end and died on the Demon battlefield, but to think he’s still alive!”

Harvey’s last correspondence with this close friend from his academy days had been just before he was about to move from Jackdaw Town to the mage ruins in the Northern Barren Lands.

In Lambert’s final reply, he had mentioned that for certain reasons, he would soon be departing for the Evil Moon Mountain Range to join the Mage Corps for a three-year tour of duty. Unexpectedly, after he left, all news of him vanished. Harvey had subsequently sent several letters to the messenger coordinates he had left, but they all vanished without a trace.

As a classmate and roommate with whom he had lived and studied for nearly five years, Harvey was well aware of Lambert’s spellcasting proficiency and power level. If not for the various necromantic artifacts his family provided him and a stitched corpse puppet that had been passed down for three generations, Harvey could probably run circles around him in a one-on-one Spell Duel using only universal spells in the time it takes to eat a meal.

Ash Lambert was a typical “useless Mage Scion.” Aside from having a good character and a gentle personality, his only other notable virtues were his generosity and his tendency to treat money as if it were nothing… these were the few qualities that had drawn Harvey to befriend him.

“Three years of service… then he suddenly vanished off the face of the earth, and now he pops up to contact me in secret…”

Harvey slapped his forehead, the answer instantly dawning on him—that audacious fool must have deserted his post!

He took the letter, touched the magic seal on the envelope with his finger, and immediately perceived the decryption instructions inscribed within it. He couldn’t help but grin.

That silly oaf Lambert, he still liked to play the codename decryption games they had grown tired of back in the academy…

Breaking the secret sigil was incredibly simple for Harvey. He just needed to shout out the secret nicknames they had privately given each other as students back at the academy within the few seconds the sigil was active, which would ensure the letter wasn’t incinerated by mana.

“Legendary Idea Man!” Harvey called out softly, representing his own decryption handle. He couldn’t help but rub his face, feeling a wave of embarrassment.

Still, it was much better than the one he’d given Lambert: “Super ATM.”

Eagerly, he unfolded the letter, and a familiar, messy handwriting appeared before him.

[My dear Harvey! By the spirits of the dead! Please forgive me for disappearing for so long…]

[Those days in Blackstone City were just too unbearable. Those bastards from the Federation were constantly targeting me and giving me a hard time. On several missions, I always felt a chill down my spine… a creepy feeling, like I was being watched.]

[I thought back then that if I died in an accident, the fatal spell would probably hit me in the back, not the front…]

[So I had to run! Damn it, who cares about family prestige or personal honor? Nothing’s more important than your own life!]

[By the time you see this letter, you should have met my two companions… Mr. White and Mr. Black, right? Don’t treat them as strangers. They are both kinsmen who grew up with me, as close as brothers. If they weren’t, I wouldn’t have dared to ask them to find you for me.]

[Harvey, listen to me… right now, throughout the south, both the orthodox spellcaster organizations and those detestable holy rollers from the Church have begun a purge against us Necromancers, both openly and in secret. Those hypocrites, fishing for fame, have pinned the crime of spreading the plague on us and are proclaiming it everywhere. Even my family’s ancestral home in Da’ers was attacked by unidentified spellcasters!]

[White and Black’s secret journey to St. Valen is partly to retrieve a few of our fellow mages hiding in the country, but I also asked them to give you a heads-up. After all, you’re holed up in the borderlands, so your information isn’t exactly up-to-date, and I don’t dare risk exposing my real-world coordinate to communicate with you.]

[A thousand words can be summed up in one piece of advice! The nations of the south are no longer a place to linger. If you have nowhere reliable to go, please travel with my two kinsmen. Be sure to hide your identity on the road. I will be waiting in a safe place for our reunion!]

Harvey let out a breath, a faint warmth spreading through his chest.

That Lambert, he had deserted his post and moved his entire clan to take refuge, yet he still remembered his old classmate hiding out on the border of St. Valen. He was willing to risk exposing himself and getting into trouble just to send someone to pick him up along the way.

This friend, though not always reliable, was truly worth having.

Chapter 320: A Token of Friendship

“You’re the one Lambert was looking for? The Necromancer living in seclusion on the border of St. Valen?!!”

Invited alone into the castle’s study, Black and White exchanged a look, their expressions a mixture of shock and uncertainty. When they had entered the pioneer territories with the Halro Merchant Guild, they had indeed heard that the master of this territory was a feudal lord who was also a Spellcaster, and likely a high-ranking one at that.

Their observations over the past few days had confirmed this. There were indeed many signs of Spellcasters and magic apprentices active in this pioneer territory. This was clearly the prosperous ancestral land of an ancient wizard family, one that had been managed for generations, its location merely a bit secret and unassuming.

Harvey generously showed the letter and insignia he had received to the two fellow Necromancers. “We suddenly lost contact not long after Lambert headed for the Evil Moon Mountain Range. Before that, we were in frequent contact without interruption.”

White gave a wry smile. “My deepest apologies. It seems Lambert misjudged your family background and personal strength, to think he would ask us to come find you and escort you to safety…”

Putting aside everything else, the lord’s handful of magic advisors made no effort to hide their status as high-level casters, and they were most likely powerful combat Mages.

The situation was as absurd as asking two mice to travel a thousand miles to protect several lions.

Black was clearly the more direct of the two. He asked, puzzled, “But… Lambert told me explicitly that the dear friend he was looking for was a Necromancer! But you… forgive me, I can’t feel even a trace of death mana emanating from you…”

That’s because I don’t stick to my proper studies… Harvey complained silently in his heart.

“Hehe, there’s no need for you two to doubt. Because I study multiple schools of casting, I can’t be considered a pure Necromancer in the strictest sense… However, the friendship I’ve shared with Mr. Lambert for many years as fellow students is quite genuine.”

He studies multiple magic types… he has high-level casters serving under him, and he possesses such a prosperous and thriving pioneer territory. It was said this Lord also maintained a large number of private soldiers. Just from the Bloodline Warrior squires standing guard in the hall earlier, it was clear his strength was not to be underestimated.

It seemed his true identity was undoubtedly that of an unparalleled genius from a secret, ancient wizard family, being groomed as the successor.

At this thought, the same idea surfaced in the minds of both Necromancers—thankfully, they hadn’t done anything out of line or offensive on his turf these past few days. Otherwise, the two of them might not have been able to escape in one piece.

“Lord, since this all began with that fellow Lambert’s conjecture, our trip here has become a complete misunderstanding. In addition to expressing our sincerest apologies, we will depart from your territory at once so as not to cause you any further trouble…”

Harvey, however, waved his hand. “Hold on! I’m afraid you two cannot leave just yet…”

Black’s heart tightened. The hand hidden in his sleeve unconsciously clenched into a fist. He said nervously, “Lord, based on the friendship between you and Lambert… can you not forgive our transgression of concealing our identities and sneaking into your territory?”

These people from ancient wizard families truly placed great importance on wizarding traditions and etiquette. They probably viewed the two of them sneaking into his territory as a rather serious offense and insult…

The two of them exchanged glances repeatedly, their minds racing as they tried to figure out how to get away safely.

Inside the study, four Bloodline Warriors stood by the walls, eyeing them like tigers watching their prey. Outside the door, they could clearly sense the undisguised magical pressure of a high-level caster… And Mr. Duncan, the magic advisor leisurely drinking tea downstairs, was surely keeping a close eye on their private meeting with the Lord.

Harvey paused for a moment before realizing they had misunderstood. He quickly explained, “No, no, no! I don’t intend to detain you by force or punish you in any way, hahaha! I’m asking you to stay here for a few more days. Wait until I’ve prepared my gift for Lambert, then you can leave with my reply. That… isn’t too much to ask, is it?”

Uh… This time, it was the two Necromancers’ turn to be stunned on the spot.

“O-Okay, we would be more than willing to deliver… the gift and your reply to Lambert…”

…

After nightfall, Harvey dragged Astaren and Chris into the laboratory deep beneath the castle and set to work.

“My lord, this gift you’re preparing specifically for your… classmate, what exactly is it?” Chris, wearing a protective face shield that covered his entire head, was holding a “mana welding torch” forged from mithril, carefully inscribing magic runes onto a huge, rectangular wooden crate.

Astaren had his head down, rapidly assembling something on a metal workbench, but his mouth wasn’t idle. “My lord has clearly divided the labor, having us each complete a part of the gift… As for your job, Chris, I think you’re making the gift box!”

Harvey held back a laugh and offered no explanation. But Chris paused, lifted his face shield, and said in astonishment, “My lord, did Mr. Astaren guess correctly? A gift box this big? What on earth are you planning to put inside it!”

It surely couldn’t be some powerful and strange magic artifact. After all, the “packaging specifications” didn’t make sense. A magic artifact this large could probably only be wielded by the Dragon race or Giants. Besides… a gift is a gift, why would the box need to be engraved with runes? It’s not like the artifact inside would come to life and escape on its own.

Wait! Come to life…

Chris suddenly slapped his forehead and said proudly, “My lord! I think I’ve guessed what you’re sending!”

Astaren stood up, perplexed, and looked at Chris as if he were an idiot. “What’s so hard to guess? A box this big is obviously for a Magic Motorcycle that can be disassembled and reassembled! Didn’t my lord say so? His dear friend is currently suffering from political persecution and is on the run. Sending him a blazing-fast Magic Motorcycle would be a godsend!”

Harvey spat out a mouthful of the hot tea he had just sipped…

Chris, however, shook his head with confidence, retorting, “No, no! For a Magic Motorcycle to run continuously, it requires our unique liquid magical energy. Unless my lord plans to send him a constant supply of energy, he’ll just have to watch that heavy alchemical vehicle sit there motionless…”

He chuckled slyly and sidled up to Harvey. “My lord, since your friend is a Necromancer, I think… you must be planning to send him an… undead alchemy golem, one created by fusing a stitched corpse puppet with alchemical cybernetics, right?”

Only then did Harvey squint and smile. “Chris’s mind works a little faster, but you’ve only guessed half of it…”

The gift he was preparing for that fellow Lambert was no mere undead alchemy golem.

But one thing was certain: when his friend received this grand gift he had so painstakingly prepared, he would be so “surprised” that his jaw would drop to the floor.

Chapter 321: The Gloomy Sea

Five days later, at the seaport of Erisburg, the capital of Faros, the Land of a Thousand Sails.

The Necromancers Black and White stood side-by-side on the deck of a multi-masted sailing ship, about to set out on a long voyage. They watched intently as the crew from the merchant guild carefully hoisted a massive rectangular wooden box—reinforced with three layers of planks and iron bars inside and out—and placed it securely in the ship’s lower hold.

White touched the thin letter he kept carefully in his breast pocket and sighed, asking his companion, “What kind of grand gift do you suppose this Mage Lord has prepared for that fellow Lambert?”

It was truly a “grand” gift! Both literally and visually, it was exceptionally large.

The two had originally assumed that he was merely sending a gift befitting his status, a polite gesture toward a former academy colleague, along with his reply. When Spellcasters exchanged gifts without any underlying transactions, it was usually a finely crafted mage robe, a historical text of some research value, or perhaps a pure collector’s item completely devoid of any magical properties.

“I have no idea,” Black said, shaking his head, admitting he couldn’t guess. He subconsciously touched the magic pocket at his waist—this Mage Lord was truly generous! He must have felt that asking them to deliver this “grand” gift was too much trouble, because he had given both him and White a small bag of high-quality shadow magic stones!

Shadow magic stones! Not the common elemental magic stones sold under the Federation’s monopoly!

The Necromancer faction was considered unorthodox precisely because they couldn’t directly draw elemental or pure mana from common elemental magic stones and Charged magic stones to replenish their own. No matter what type of magic stone they held, they had to meditate and use the Magic Net’s access to other dimensions to convert the mana’s properties before they could use it.

Except for shadow magic stones…

Although shadow magic stones themselves contained Dark Matter Mana, it was of the same origin as the Death Mana Necromancers required. It could be directly absorbed without the need for meditative conversion.

Unfortunately, these stones were extremely rare in the south, and due to their singular purpose, there had never been an official channel for them to circulate in large quantities. They only occasionally appeared in small numbers on the magic black market.

“White, we were originally asked by Lambert to rescue someone, but I never expected us to luck out so much,” Black said, growing more pleased the more he thought about it. “Ten whole shadow magic stones. I haven’t seen that many on the magic black market in an entire year’s work.”

White chuckled softly. “That’s nothing. Just for delivering a gift for this Lord, we were able to use his connections to access the Federation’s continental teleportation array in Jackdaw Town! Hmph, those snobs who look down their noses at people have always despised us. But the moment they saw the Lord’s magical insignia, they immediately started fawning over us and preparing the teleportation ritual… It was so satisfying!”

Harvey had been concerned that traveling thousands of kilometers with a giant gift box to their secret refuge would expose their identities and attract danger. So, with a wave of his hand, he decided to let them use the continental teleportation array that the Federation had recently restored in Jackdaw Town. They traveled directly from St. Valen to Da’ers, then immediately onward to the Duchy of Faros, finally arriving in its capital, Erisburg, from where they would circle back to their refuge by sea.

…

For the next two days, the multi-masted sailing ship carrying White, Black, and the others sped along a sea route far from the continent. It was clearly a magic sailing ship, enchanted with some kind of special rune array. A continuously active mana array was secretly installed in the lower hold, not only repelling sea monsters with a unique mana fluctuation but also, to some extent, increasing the ship’s speed.

On this trip, they had also brought back many Necromancer apprentices who had been stranded in Da’ers and St. Valen. If these apprentices, with their low-level abilities and ranks, were to remain in the southern nations, they would likely be hunted down by the Church and certain orthodox Spellcaster organizations. They would either be secretly imprisoned or publicly displayed on a stake—in any case, their fate would not be a good one.

After sailing east along the continent’s deep-sea route for several hundred nautical miles, they suddenly arrived at a dangerous stretch of sea perennially shrouded in thick fog, with treacherous reefs frequently breaking the surface. The sailing ship did not change course to go around it but instead plunged headfirst into this Sea of Mists, which no mariner would ever enter lightly.

Standing at the bow, Black raised a spyglass and carefully observed the foggy sea. On a rocky shoal, he spotted several merfolk with human torsos and fish tails, sharp mouths and fangs, perched on the reefs and humming softly.

White took a gleaming white human bone covered in dense, dark patterns from his pocket. He snapped it in two and threw it far out toward the merfolk. The moment the bone hit the water, it let out a sizzling, corrosive sound before erupting into a cloud of thick smoke. As the smoke rose, it formed a strange emblem on the water’s surface.

The merfolk immediately noticed the activity on the sailing ship, but for once, they did not panic and flee. Instead, they stared blankly at the emblem floating on the sea for a moment, then swam over to the ship and began to shriek and cry at Black and White on the bow.

Then, the merfolk formed a group and led the sailing ship, which followed closely behind them, into the dense fog filled with reefs.

This was the secret refuge that Ash Lambert’s Necromancer family, and several other closely allied Necromancer organizations from the southern nations, had prepared for themselves in advance.

Probably no one could have imagined that the Sea-folk, who had never engaged in deep interactions with any of the intelligent races on the continent, had for some unknown reason secretly entered into a clandestine partnership with the Necromancer faction of humanity centuries ago.

This was the greatest asset for the Necromancers led by the Lambert family, allowing them to decisively evacuate their entire clan and slip away in secret when they sensed the political and public opinion in the magical world and the southern nations turning against them.

“With the guidance of these half-blood merfolk from the Sea-folk, we just need to sail for about half a day more to reach the heart of the Gloomy Sea…” White instructed the helmsman from his family’s merchant guild to keep a close watch on the course set by the merfolk ahead. He then leaned leisurely against the mast with Black. Once they entered the Sea of Mists, they were basically safe, no longer needing to be constantly vigilant about their identities being exposed or being pursued by the Church.

Black sighed. “It’s safe and hidden here, but it’s really not a comfortable place to live… Being far from human nations means it’s hard to acquire corpses for our magical research, and as guests, we can’t just use the bodies of the Sea-folk…唉, if only we were as powerful as that Mage Lord of the barren lands, maybe we wouldn’t have to hide like rats in a sewer.”

“He’s a genius from a prominent wizard family who only happens to also practice Necromancy out of some unknown personal interest. How can we possibly compare ourselves to him?” White patted his companion’s shoulder comfortingly, though he felt a pang of wistfulness himself.

Despite this, Black still muttered under his breath, “If you put it that way, I might as well offer my services. Perhaps that gentle and approachable Lord would be willing to hire me as his Necromancy Advisor…”

As the two were talking, a Necromancer apprentice came stumbling out of the cabin.

“Mr. White! Mr. Black! That… that big box at the bottom of the hold, the one… the one covered in strange magic inscriptions…”

“There’s… there’s a noise coming from inside it!”

Chapter 322: The Old Classmate Who Rose from the Coffin

That large wooden crate covered in strange magic runes… was there a noise coming from inside?

Black and White exchanged a glance and said in unison, “The gift that Lord sent to Lambert… could it be a corpse puppet?”

But whether it was a Living Corpse, a skeleton, or even an incorporeal ghost, they shouldn’t react at all without a Necromancer’s mana to control them. How could it be moving on its own?

White hesitated for a moment before suggesting, “Should we… open the crate and check? We’ll be arriving soon. What if it causes some kind of trouble…”

But Black shook his head decisively. “No! Don’t you get it? The inscriptions densely engraved on that crate must be there to seal whatever’s inside. Besides, since he entrusted us with its delivery, he must have placed some kind of secret magical sigil on the container. Opening it rashly is what’s likely to cause problems.”

The best course of action was to ignore it completely and safely deliver the reply and the gift to Lambert. As for whether any mishaps would occur afterward… that would be Lambert’s responsibility. It had nothing to do with them, the couriers.

“Keep all the apprentices away from the lower deck of the ship. Don’t go near that strange wooden crate. There’s still much for you all to learn and experience, but you must understand… sometimes, too much curiosity can bring fatal danger upon yourselves!”

…

Guided by the mixed-blood merfolk, the multi-masted sailing ship soon broke through the fog and docked beside a reef covered in fine, black sand. It dropped anchor next to what looked like a very simple, temporary shallow-water dock.

Before Black and White had even disembarked, they could already see several figures in black Spellcaster robes standing on the fog-shrouded pier. One of them seemed to be on his tiptoes, peering constantly toward the ship.

“White! Black! By the spirits of the dead, you’ve finally returned safely!”

A tall young man with handsome short blond hair and a pale complexion called out to them in a loud voice. He walked quickly to the side of the sampan used for disembarking, his brow furrowed as he scanned the people getting off the ship. His expression grew a little disappointed. “You… you didn’t find my friend? Or did he… did something happen to him?”

White’s expression was odd. He pulled the man aside, away from the others on the dock. “Lambert, it’s not that I’m trying to criticize you, but your ability to judge people is just awful… Did you really have no idea about the true background and identity of the friend you asked us to find?”

And he had the nerve to say they’d been classmates for years and shared a strong bond… he’d been completely fooled by someone playing weak, and he was still clueless.

“True identity?” Lambert was baffled, murmuring, “Harvey’s true identity… isn’t he just from a minor landlord family in Goldshine City whose fortunes have declined?”

He had paid for his tuition at the Necromancy Academy half by selling off family assets and half with a loan from the academy… and during that time, he had barely managed to make it to graduation by working part-time.

Black sauntered over as well, letting out a sneer. “He was probably just trying to hide his noble family background, so he casually made up a common origin as an excuse and stooped to befriend you…”

As he spoke, he pulled Harvey’s reply from his pocket, stuffed it into the stunned Lambert’s hand, and patted him on the shoulder. “This time, you asking us to find someone has made us look like complete fools. You’d better think long and hard about how you’re going to compensate us! Hmph!”

White, on the other hand, said with a grin, “Oh, right, that Lord also asked us to bring back a gift for you. You’ve really made a powerful connection, my friend!”

He turned and pointed to the enormous, long wooden crate that was being hoisted by the crew with ropes and slowly lowered onto the dock’s unloading area. He added a word of caution, “Though I don’t think that Lord would set a trap for you, this grand gift is a bit strange… You should probably handle it with care.”

Lambert’s mind was in a whirl. “Harvey… sent me a gift in return? What on earth is in such a huge crate?”

Forgetting to open the letter first, he hurried over to the massive wooden crate resting quietly in the unloading area. He ran his hand over the magical emblems and patterns engraved on its surface and clicked his tongue in admiration. “That Harvey has really struck it rich!”

The crate was actually made from the heartwood of Gloomwood from the Burial Grounds. It was used to store spellcasting materials rich in Death Mana, as it could effectively prevent the materials’ inherent mana from dissipating over time. Although Lambert came from a Necromancer family that was looked down upon by the secular world, his family had always been very wealthy. In his own private collection, he had a palm-sized storage box made of Gloomwood.

“That Harvey, what an extravagant gesture!” Just this coffin-sized Gloomwood crate was already worth a fortune, and it wasn’t something that could be bought with money alone.

White and Black were merely descendants of a branch family; their judgment and knowledge were far from the unique insight of Lambert, the “useless heir” who was the eldest son of the main family. Hearing him identify the crate’s material at a glance, they too approached with a mix of surprise and uncertainty.

“Is it really… Gloomwood from the Burial Grounds? Good grief! We didn’t even recognize it. No wonder it needed so many magic runes engraved on it.”

Lambert scratched his head, confused. “But… what does Harvey mean by sending me a crate? I don’t have that many precious magic materials that need to be stored, do I?”

“No, no, no…” Black and White said in unison. “The crate is just the outer packaging for your gift. The real present is inside. For that Lord to use Gloomwood as a gift box… that’s a level of luxury I’ve never seen before!”

Lambert was stunned for a moment, not quite grasping what they meant, when he suddenly heard a loud thud from inside the crate.

Dong!

Everyone standing around felt their hearts skip a beat, and an unconscious silence fell over the group.

“Why don’t you… open it and take a look now?” Black suggested cautiously. “Perhaps it’s a specially refined corpse puppet that has undergone some unavoidable mutation after being infused with the Death Mana from the Gloomwood crate…”

The guess was plausible enough, and the others let out a collective sigh of relief. They were all veterans at handling corpses, so occasional mutations in corpse puppets or rampaging Living Corpses were nothing to be alarmed about.

Lambert nodded. He summoned a Mage Hand, brought it near the Gloomwood crate, and pulled out the few cork wedges sealing the lid. It seemed Harvey hadn’t put anything dangerous inside; otherwise, the seal wouldn’t be so simple. He hadn’t even bothered to use a single enchanted coffin nail.

The lid was carefully lifted and set aside, revealing the contents to everyone present.

Someone cried out in shock, “It really is a Gloomwood coffin!”

Lying inside the crate was a pale, slender young man dressed in a deep black mage’s robe embroidered with dense, intricate gold thread patterns. His eyes were tightly shut, and he was clearly resting on a thick, soft cotton pad.

A terrifying thought flashed through Black’s mind. He stammered, “Is… is this a Living Corpse made from a Spellcaster?”

Lambert didn’t dare to answer. He swallowed hard, frozen in place, unsure of what to do.

White cautiously suggested in a low voice, “Why don’t we… just put the coffin plank… the lid back on. We can transport the whole thing back to the camp and let… let our mentor and the Clan Head take a look…”

Before he could finish his sentence, the “corpse” of the young man lying in the crate suddenly shot its eyes open.

It only took a few seconds for the “corpse’s” eyes to go from vacant to full of life. It glanced around at the circle of people surrounding its “coffin” before its gaze locked directly onto the terrified Lambert. Its lips moved, and it actually spoke.

“Lambert! It’s so good to see you again!”

Chapter 323: The Necromantic Cult

Lambert was so frightened he practically fell on his backside. In his panic, he suddenly realized the voice sounded somewhat familiar.

He subconsciously asked, “Is… is that Harvey? Is it Harvey?”

Controlling the soul puppet, Harvey gripped the edge of the box with stiff limbs and struggled out of the “coffin.” He stretched his arms and legs before managing to stand steady.

“Yes, it’s me… I’m sorry for startling you all. I explained the situation in my reply, but it seems you chose to open the gift before reading the letter… Heh, you’re the same as ever, always so impatient.”

Lambert’s face flushed red as he scrambled up from the ground, dusting the fine black sand from his robes. “How did you end up like this?” he asked in disbelief. “I almost didn’t recognize you!”

Harvey laughed heartily and stepped forward to give the stiff Lambert a big hug. He explained in a warm voice, “This is just a puppet shell temporarily housing my consciousness and mental energy… Please forgive me for not being able to elaborate on the secrets involved. In any case, it took a great deal of effort for me to come see you in person!”

Lambert was still skeptical. He muttered in a low voice, “You… tell me the stupid nickname you gave me… back when we were students at the academy!”

Harvey rolled his eyes and declared loudly, “Mr. Super ATM! The ATM! Are you satisfied now?”

The moment Harvey shouted the first half, Lambert lunged forward and clamped a hand over his mouth. “Alright, alright!” he said repeatedly. “I believe you’re Harvey! Now stop, just stop!”

…

“We only moved here a few months ago. If we hadn’t shipped over some of the Living Corpses and corpse puppets by sea, we probably wouldn’t have even managed to set up a temporary camp…”

As Lambert led Harvey deeper into the island, he rambled on, explaining the situation.

This area, known as “The Gloomy Sea,” was shrouded in a thick fog that covered hundreds of square kilometers year-round due to an underwater volcano. It was a place merchant caravans and sailors avoided at all costs. A small tribe of Sea-folk, numbering just over a thousand and consisting mostly of mixed blood, had lived here for generations.

Ever since the Dragon War, when the Sea-folk signed a peace treaty with Humans and other terrestrial intelligent races, they had strictly adhered to the agreement, no longer frequently raiding the coastal regions of the southern continent. They had also become much more tolerant of seafarers, tacitly allowing them to pass through or fish in many of their exclusive domains.

Only this stretch, The Gloomy Sea, was rarely visited by merchant ships or fishing squads, even after the Sea-folk had completely opened access. It was subsequently discovered by Lambert’s ancestors. Through over a century of trade and material aid with the small local tribe, they gradually built a good cooperative relationship, leasing the island reef to create a perfect “offshore safe house” for their family.

“There’s no soil or vegetation on this land? It’s all covered in this fine, gravel-like black mineral… This must be sediment from the underwater volcano’s eruption, right?” Harvey prodded the ground with the tip of his foot, kicking up a thin layer of fine black sand.

Lambert nodded. “That’s right. It’s impossible to grow magical plants here. For now, all our daily necessities and magical materials have to come from the supplies we brought with us, and… from secret shipments by the Halro Merchant Guild.”

Harvey patted his old friend’s shoulder with understanding and offered some comfort. “I think you’ve misjudged the situation in the south. Although the Church has indeed declared that Necromancers were behind the plague that broke out in the central continent, the Federation has not confirmed this charge. You really don’t need to be so paranoid, fleeing with your entire clan at the slightest hint of danger…”

Lambert gave a bitter smile and glanced at his kinsmen, White and Black, who were following behind him. He was about to explain…

When they rounded a massive reef ahead, their view suddenly opened up. A massive, clear plain of black sand was dotted with a uniquely styled Spellcaster camp.

Exquisite gray felt tents were stitched with the line-drawn image of a skull, encircled by a ring of tiny inscriptions—the unique necromantic sigil of the Lambert family.

In the center of the camp stood several tall, pointed marquees, likely used for receiving guests or holding meetings. The camp was bustling with people, and it seemed many servants were busy moving goods and supplies. But Harvey knew better—those ashen-faced, stiff-moving figures were actually all refined Living Corpse puppets.

A man in a dark gray robe, wearing a slightly comical pointed hat with a bent tip, emerged from the camp to greet them. “Well… you’ve finally returned safely. It seems our apprentices’ losses weren’t too great.”

Without bothering with pleasantries, the man in the pointed hat quickly inspected the apprentices’ necromantic sigils to verify their identities, then led them into the camp to be settled in.

Lambert pointed at the man’s back with a smile and introduced him, “My cousin William, William Lambert. The guy’s an unsociable recluse. He definitely saw your unfamiliar face just now but deliberately ignored you and didn’t greet us.”

Harvey shrugged, graciously indicating that it didn’t matter.

Just then, several more people walked out of the camp and strode toward them. The leader, a white-bearded old man, was not dressed in a comical, traditional Necromancer’s robe but in a standard formal suit of a southern nobleman. He stared at Harvey for a few seconds, then turned to Lambert and complained with a frown, “Ashe, didn’t I remind you not to accept any more outside Necromancers during these critical times… Why did you still bring someone back on your own authority?”

Lambert scratched his head in embarrassment. “This is a classmate and dear friend of mine from my days at the St. Valen Necromancy Academy. He’s no outsider. I invited him here on my own initiative. Please forgive my rashness…”

The old man snorted, his sharp, grim gaze turning to Harvey. “Let this be the last time. But please ask this ‘classmate and dear friend’ of yours not to wander around freely. It would be best if he stayed乖乖 within the camp. Otherwise, we can’t guarantee his safety…”

He paused, then added with profound meaning, “Sometimes, curiosity can bring unprovoked disaster upon our guests.”

Lambert nodded repeatedly in agreement, then grabbed Harvey’s sleeve and ducked into his personal felt tent.

“Whoa! Ashe, my friend, you haven’t forgotten how to enjoy life even while seeking refuge…” Harvey stood in the spacious tent, which was at least twenty to thirty square meters, and looked around, clicking his tongue in praise. “Felt tent, handmade carpet, a soft and comfortable bed, and… even a small sandalwood bookshelf and a portable alchemy station.”

Lambert forced a smile. “Don’t tease me. Can you compare the life I had at the academy to the one I’m living now?”

He poured two glasses of water from an exquisitely crafted, long-necked crystal bottle and handed one to Harvey. “Try this! A specialty of the Sea-folk, Song of the Sea Conch. It’s a fermented drink with a unique flavor, very effective for restoring mental energy.”

Harvey took a sip. He felt as if he were chewing candy through its wrapper; there was a taste, but his taste buds responded sluggishly. This was because the soul puppet was too far from his true self, forcing Harvey to rely on the Magic Net’s interdimensional properties and positioning through magical runes to maintain the connection between his consciousness and the puppet.

“Alright, now you should tell me why you and your family fled the south so hastily, and also… about you evading your battlefield rotation duty with the Federation.”

Lambert plopped down on the bed and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking overwhelmed. After a moment, he explained in a low, somber voice, “The persecution by the Church, the discrimination from orthodox Spellcasters, our expulsion by the nobility… all of it was just an excuse. An excuse to come here.”

He looked up at Harvey, his expression serious. “Do you remember, back at the academy, when I secretly mentioned… the Necromantic Cult?”

Harvey paused, searching his memory before it came back to him. The Necromantic Cult… Lambert had indeed mentioned it and had made him swear to keep it a secret.

It was a dark council of Spellcasters led by Necromancers. In ancient times, it and the ancient Wizard’s Council were known respectively as the “Light Faction” and “Dark Faction” of Spellcasters. Because of this, for the centuries of its existence, the Necromantic Cult had always been a primary target for the Radiant Church to purge and suppress.

But just before the Federation of Casters was formally established, the core members and the organization of this dark council suddenly vanished from public view. For the next hundred years, there was no trace of their activities.

With the Church and the Federation deliberately concealing and downplaying its existence, the many ancient secrets of the Necromantic Cult gradually faded from the knowledge of new generations of Spellcasters. By the time it was Harvey’s generation of academy-trained Necromancers, it was something they had rarely even heard of.

“Actually… the Necromantic Cult never truly disappeared,” Lambert said gravely. “My ancestors were once among the core councilors of this dark council. Our family’s prosperity to this day is entirely thanks to the necromantic legacy accumulated by the cult over centuries.”

He paused, glancing fearfully at the flap of the felt tent before leaning close to Harvey’s ear and whispering, “A year ago, my father… the current Clan Head, suddenly received news that the cult’s previous Speaker had unexpectedly fallen. Then… then my father was chosen as the new Speaker, and he immediately had to begin the inauguration ceremony that the cult has practiced for centuries…”

Harvey nodded, looking a little confused. “Isn’t that a good thing? Congratulate Uncle Lambert for me. If I had known earlier, I would have brought an extra gift to congratulate him…”

Lambert rolled his eyes. “A good thing? What’s good about it! Harvey, the Speaker’s inauguration ceremony is the transformation ritual to become a lich! Once the ritual is complete, my father will become an undead monster that has completely lost its humanity, with a twisted consciousness, gradually being eroded by an evil will!”

Chapter 324: The Lich’s Calamity

“A Lich transformation ritual?”

Harvey’s eyes widened in surprise. He asked in disbelief, “Lambert, are you joking with me? The Lich transformation ritual has been lost since the Age of Dragons.”

Lambert shook his head with a bitter smile and explained, “It’s true, the traditional ritual has been lost for a long time. But the Cult created an entirely new method of transformation… and it’s been successfully verified on several of their Speakers.”

Harvey narrowed his eyes, carefully recalling some of the secret historical lore he had learned during his time at the Necromancy Academy.

If a high-rank Necromancer or shadow Spellcaster had no hope of advancing to the Legendary rank, they could seek to transform into an undead being to extend their life before it ran out. However, this was merely an attempt with a chance of success.

Because in a sense, the difficulty and risk of the Lich transformation ritual were not much lower than the advancement ritual for a Legendary Caster.

Extracting one’s life essence, forging a soul vessel, mixing in the blood of ancient divine creatures… and finally, through a complex dark ritual, sacrificing all of one’s soul and flesh to complete the twisted cycle of life to death, and then from death back to life.

“So… you’ve been hiding in this secluded place to complete a Lich transformation ritual?”

Harvey said to Lambert with a grave expression, “This is insane. Regardless of whether the transformation succeeds, it will definitely cause abnormal fluctuations in the Magic Net space. After all, it’s a twisted ritual that forcibly rewrites the rules of mana.”

At the very least, the Demon Slayers of the Radiant Church, who closely monitor the Magic Net space, would immediately follow the disturbance. They would swarm the Lambert family’s location like a school of sharks that caught the scent of blood in the sea.

Not to mention the Federation has three Legendary Casters skilled in roaming the Magic Net. These orthodox Spellcasters would absolutely not stand by and watch the birth of an undead monster that had completely lost its humanity and been corrupted by an evil will.

Lambert stared blankly. “By the spirits of the dead! Harvey, when did you learn so much profound and arcane magical knowledge? The last time we communicated, you were clearly still a low-level caster.”

“I’m mid-rank now!” Harvey couldn’t be bothered with pleasantries. He stood up and urged, “Lambert, why don’t you come with me? The southern continent isn’t devoid of places for Necromancers. I run a large Spellcaster territory in the border barren lands of the central continent. You can study magic and conduct research freely and safely there.”

Although this guy seemed to hold a prestigious position in his family as the Clan Head’s legitimate heir, his abilities and talent were clearly lacking. He had obviously never been groomed as a successor. Even his two older kinsmen, White and Black, seemed much stronger than him.

Since the Halro Merchant Guild’s ship needed to resupply in The Gloomy Sea and would linger for three days, Harvey figured he could easily sneak away with this overlooked and unnoticed “good-for-nothing young master.” The Necromantic Cult and Lambert’s family, who were staying here, were surely engrossed in preparing for the ritual and wouldn’t spare any attention to monitor them.

Lambert nodded, only half-understanding, then said, distressed, “Sneak away? But what about the antique collection I brought with me? This is a fortune I’ve amassed over more than a decade! Every piece is a treasure I can’t part with!”

This “Mage Scion’s” greatest passion in life wasn’t studying magic, but collecting rare antiques, from the ancient Age of Dragons to the Treasonous Alliance War period. The rarer and more interesting the item, the more willing he was to spend a fortune to acquire it.

Harvey looked at the collection in the four or five exquisite chests inside the felt tent, which showed no magical fluctuations whatsoever, and rolled his eyes, speechless.

“I really don’t know what to say to you! Don’t worry, I have a way to move your treasures ahead of time. I guarantee not a single piece will be lost…”

Only then did Lambert relax. With a look of delight, he whispered, “That’s great! I’ve long been sick of staying in this damp, sunless hellhole. When are we making a run for it?”

Harvey thought for a moment. “I’ve only just arrived, so I’m definitely still being watched by your kinsmen. Wait three days. On the night before the Halro Merchant Guild’s ship sets sail, you can use the excuse of taking me for a stroll along the coastline…”

…

For the next two days, Harvey kept a low profile and stayed within the Spellcaster camp. He either read books in Lambert’s felt tent or occasionally engaged in academic exchanges with some of the Necromancers who had arrived before him. These people were not members of the Cult or Lambert’s family; most were refugees who had been persecuted because of the plague in the central continent and were forced to seek shelter here.

Harvey keenly observed that the members of Lambert’s family who were suspected of being part of the Cult were not often active in the camp. Even White and Black, who had brought him here, had disappeared from the camp since yesterday, their whereabouts unknown.

Of course, Harvey knew they were preparing for the so-called Lich transformation ritual in a hidden location nearby. However, he had no intention of getting involved and thus paid little mind to their furtive activities.

“Harvey, I’m going to see my father. I’ll be back to pack up and run away with you!” As evening approached, Lambert returned to the camp and made a plan with Harvey. They would leave at midnight. Before that, he decided to see his father, if only for a brief farewell.

“Don’t let him see you’re planning to escape… or neither of us might get away!” Harvey reminded him with a frown.

Lambert chuckled. “Don’t worry! I won’t say outright that I’m leaving… Besides, my father won’t care that much. It’s not like I’m his only son…”

With that, Lambert hurried out of the Spellcaster camp. Harvey remained in his felt tent, took out the magical solvent and quill for drawing a temporary teleportation circle, and quickly began scribbling on the expensive handmade carpet Lambert had spread on the floor.

With a Magic Net teleportation array, Lambert’s pile of “expensive junk” could be instantly teleported back to his territory in the barren lands, arriving directly in the underground laboratory of Harvey’s castle, where Astaren and Rainer, who worked in shifts around the clock, would be there to receive it.

As for their escape route, they would naturally go back the way they came—travel with the Halro Merchant Guild to Erisburg, use the Federation’s continental teleportation array there to get to the wizard kingdom Da’ers, and then take a second teleport to Jackdaw Town.

After taking care of everything, Harvey sat leisurely in the tent, picked up a book to pass the time, and simply waited for Lambert’s return and for midnight to approach.

…

Two hours passed…

Three hours passed…

Just as the silvery moon rose into the sky shrouded in thick fog, the flap of the felt tent was suddenly yanked open.

The ones who entered were White and Black, who had been missing for two days. Lambert hadn’t returned. Harvey had a sinking feeling that something had gone wrong.

“Lord Harvey…” White’s expression was off, and he seemed to hesitate before speaking. But Black jumped in, saying bluntly, “Lord, I’m afraid something’s happened to Lambert!”

“What is it?” Harvey frowned and stood up immediately.

“That guy… he couldn’t hold it in and told you about the ritual we’re conducting, right?” Black’s face was grim. “The ritual had been going on for over ten days, but something went wrong at noon today. The clan elders and… the Councilors think there was a problem with the sacrifices and offerings needed for the ritual…”

Harvey’s eyes narrowed. Suppressing his anger, he cut Black off. “What does a problem with the ritual have to do with Lambert? You even managed to get the blood of a divine creature. Surely you don’t need help from a mid-rank Necromancer like him to complete a Lich transformation ritual?”

He paused and asked through clenched teeth, “Or is it that, because the ritual is showing signs of failure, some idiots are trying to use a blood relative sacrifice to reverse the condition of that Necromantic Cult Speaker who is turning into a monster?”

White stumbled back several steps, his voice trembling. “You… how do you know all this? Even Lambert didn’t know these secrets of the ritual!”

I have the Magic Encyclopedia on the Spellcaster Forum to thank for that… Harvey grumbled to himself.

“Cut the crap. You came to me, which means you don’t want Lambert to die for nothing, right?” As he spoke, Harvey bent down, flipped over the thick rug at his feet, picked up the magical solvent he’d tossed aside, and began to draw a runic array.

“That’s right. We do want to save Lambert…” Black muttered under his breath, “That damned Cult and their ritual… we hate them as much as a rotten corpse buried for hundreds of years…”

The new generation of Necromancers like them had no desire to follow those decaying necromantic traditions. Yet, because of their school of casting, they had to endure the pressure of worldly views and discrimination from orthodox Spellcasters. They were caught in a classic dilemma.

“When do they plan to start the blood sacrifice?”

“At midnight… That’s the only opportune moment…”

White watched Harvey focus on drawing the array and asked uncertainly, “What are you doing? Shouldn’t we head to the ritual site immediately and try to rescue Lambert?”

Harvey rolled his eyes. “Just the three of us? Against a group of Necromantic Cult councilors and all the mid- and high-rank Necromancers from your family? Have you two forgotten that I’m only here in a shell puppet that houses my consciousness and mental energy?”

He shoved the magical solvent and quill into the stunned White’s hands and ordered decisively, “If you want to save him, do as I say.”

“Black, go to the stone cave near the camp where the Living Corpses and corpse puppets are dormant. Rouse every last one of them. Don’t bother controlling them, just let them run wild and rampage through the camp… It’s best if you draw everyone’s attention!”

A flush rose on Black’s pale face. He stammered, “I… I don’t have enough mana to awaken all the Living Corpses. I’ve only just advanced to mid-rank…”

“Did a Living Corpse eat your brain…?” Harvey said, exasperated. “The bags of shadow magic stones I gave each of you before—activate them with your mana and toss them into the pile of corpses. It’ll make those things livelier than they ever were when they were alive!”

Black immediately understood. He hurriedly pushed aside the tent flap and left.

White stood dazedly, holding the solvent and quill. “Lord Harvey, what about me?”

“Help me draw a demon summoning circle… I’m going to conduct a ritual to summon a demon from another dimension.”

The three of them alone obviously couldn’t save Lambert. Right now, the only thing Harvey could think of was to quickly call for backup.

Chapter 325: Calling for Backup

“A… a demon summoning circle?” White’s hand, holding the quill, trembled slightly, but he didn’t stop drawing the circle. “Lord, are we going to enslave a demon to force our way into the ritual site and save Lambert?”

Harvey shook his head. To be honest, he had no desire to make enemies of these Necromancers. Having been Lambert’s classmate for several years, he had a decent understanding of his friend’s family of necromancy—they were indeed a family of Spellcasters passionate about the pursuit of truth and knowledge. Though they specialized in the obscure school of necromancy, their actions were rarely out of line. In the hundred-plus years the family had thrived in Da’ers, there had never been a single rumor of them engaging in bloody or evil magical research. Even the corpses they used were all purchased legally from corpse traffickers.

But they were exceptionally harsh on themselves. According to Lambert, he wasn’t technically the eldest son of the family. He had two older brothers and an older sister before him, all of whom had died in magical experiment accidents or in Spell Duels sparked by academic disputes within the family.

From Harvey’s perspective, this was a clear case of a family driving its own population into decline. It also explained why Lambert, upon becoming an adult and a qualified Spellcaster, had chosen to make slacking off and seeking pleasure his life’s goals, completely lacking any ambition.

“Unless it’s absolutely necessary, we’ll try not to use force to rescue Lambert…” Harvey had a tentative plan in mind. “Do you know how many mid-rank or higher Spellcasters are at the ritual site?”

White thought for a moment before answering, “In the family, only the Clan Head himself is high-rank… Among the cult’s Councilors, there’s also one who has just recently advanced to high-rank. Other than them, most are mid- or low-rank Spellcasters…”

Only two high-rank Spellcasters, one of whom was currently undergoing the transformation ritual and likely had no capacity to fight. That meant that even if things got rough, Harvey would only have to face a single high-rank Necromancer. Summoning Mr. Mind Devil through the ritual would be more than enough to overwhelm him.

For the summoning circle, they prioritized using liquid Mithril, which had the best magical conductivity, as the magical solution. Although the stuff wasn’t cheap, Lambert had collected a full bottle of it, and it appeared to be entirely unused, which was perfect for their needs.

As for the ritual offerings, if they were in the pioneer territories, Harvey would have preferred to use Mr. Mind Devil’s favorite innovative culinary creations from the territory. After all, those were rich in Votive Power and desire, stemming from the satisfaction of the chefs who made them and the longing of those who wished to taste them.

But in this Spellcaster camp, let alone delicacies, it was hard to find anything to eat besides fresh water and salted bread. Harvey rummaged through Lambert’s felt tent and retrieved a few antiques, their surfaces worn to a patina from repeated handling. It seemed these items were some of Lambert’s favorites, which he must have often held for appreciation and critique.

Though they were imbued only with Lambert’s desire, it was undoubtedly very potent. They could easily substitute for ordinary offerings and, when activated by the ritual, quickly capture Mr. Mind Devil’s attention.

With White’s assistance, the two of them swiftly completed the summoning circle. Since drawing the diagram required infusing a large amount of one’s own mana to activate the circle, and Harvey was currently inhabiting the shell of a soul puppet, he had to leave the task of magic infusion entirely to White. This nearly drained all the mana from White’s reserves, his already pale face breaking out in a cold sweat.

After the summoning circle was activated, a faint turbulence of energy from another dimension could be felt stirring within the tent.

Harvey wasted no time and began chanting the summoning incantation three times. Soon, a thick, dark red mist rose from the center of the diagram, and within the mist, an irregularly shaped, door-like void slowly coalesced.

A tall, thin figure with excessively long limbs and a slightly twisted torso slowly emerged from the void…

A slit resembling an eye suddenly cracked open on the twisted figure’s head. A layered voice, like countless people speaking at once, immediately echoed out. White felt a sharp pain in his head and quickly retreated to a corner of the tent, not daring to look up.

“Mr. Kel’Thuzad?” The Mind Devil lifted a long leg and stepped out of the spatial fissure formed by the summoning circle. “It’s not yet our agreed-upon visiting day. Why have you summoned me ahead of schedule?”

He turned His head slightly, scanning his surroundings, and only then did he seem to realize he wasn’t in the familiar Lord’s Castle. “Hmm… what’s going on here?”

Harvey smiled and nodded in greeting, explaining, “Something came up suddenly. I’m currently on an island reef at sea. I’ve summoned you to ask for some help…”

The Mind Devil nodded, squinting His single eye and taking a theatrical deep breath. “Gloomy, cold, numb, with a surprising hint of fanaticism. There are more dead things here than living. To be honest… the environment is worse than the public washrooms in the pioneer territories…”

Mr. Devil’s roasts and sarcasm were always so uniquely venomous and amusing. Unfortunately, Harvey had no time for idle banter with Him right now.

“I need your help to stop a ritual that’s currently in progress… To be precise, to reverse the outcome of a ritual that is destined to fail.”

The Mind Devil nodded in understanding. He reached out a long hand and casually picked up one of Lambert’s treasured antiques in the tent to admire it, gesturing for Harvey to continue explaining the situation.

Huddled in the corner, not daring to make a sound, White cautiously lifted his head. He was surprised to see that the objects this twisted demon touched and caressed suddenly and illogically lost their luster, becoming as dull and ancient as if they had just been excavated after being buried for a thousand years.

“It’s an ancient Lich transformation ritual. I’m sure you, Mr. Mind Devil, have heard of such a ritual in your long existence, haven’t you?”

The Mind Devil nodded honestly. “Indeed. Though rare, I have once observed the process of such a transformation…”

He set down a porcelain cup he was holding and commented with some amusement, “I have to say, in their pursuit of eternal life, you humans have certainly come up with some astonishing feats. Lich transformation? Heh, attempting to circumvent the natural law of a short-lived species’s lifespan by extracting life essence and the Soul Core. The first person who came up with this method was truly a crazy genius.”

Harvey glanced at the sky through the tent’s ventilation flap and cut to the chase, “The Lich transformation ritual requires the extraction of life essence rich in humanity and desire. So, I was thinking you could help extract this portion of Votive Power and desire and re-inject it into the person undergoing the ritual… This might reverse the ritual’s progress and prevent its failure.”

The Mind Devil paused for a moment, staring at Harvey with his massive single eye for a while before he couldn’t help but exclaim, “I take back my praise for the Lich ritual, Mr. Kel’Thuzad. You, by comparison, are the true genius. An idea even more subversive than madness itself. I truly have no idea how many wonderful surprises are packed inside that head of yours.”

He pointed at the silent White huddled in the corner and asked with a light chuckle, “Is this the vessel you’ve prepared for my arrival? Without a physical vessel of flesh and blood, I can’t help you achieve your goal.”

White’s body trembled. He looked at Harvey in panic, his eyes filled with pleading and refusal.

This was a demon, a high-ranking demon with intellect, reason, and the ability to converse normally with humans. If he was used as a vessel, his brain would probably be scrambled into mush afterward, turning him into a complete idiot.

Harvey was a little exasperated. He shook his head with a smile. “No, this is a new friend of mine, not a vessel. Mr. Mind Devil, you wouldn’t mind… sharing a body with me, would you?”

Chapter 326: Sanctum of the Dead

Huddled in a corner of the tent, White watched with an expression of inexplicable terror as the summoned high-ranking demon’s long, twisted figure dissolved into several crimson wisps of air and surged into Harvey through his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.

After about half a minute of waiting, Harvey, who had been standing frozen on the spot, twitched slightly. He then turned around, revealing pupils that had been stained a deep crimson.

“This… this way… should… should… be fine… It’s fine.”

The moment he spoke, White felt as if the layered voices of countless people were exploding in his ears. Yet from within it, he could clearly discern Harvey’s voice, like a lead singer completely dominating a massive chorus.

Harvey tilted his head, slightly uncomfortable. Without any warning, a terrifying, deep-red maw suddenly split open on his neck. Just one glance at it made White feel his mind being tainted, and he quickly looked away.

Then, he heard the high-ranking demon’s voice emerge from the gash, “Hmph… Mr. Kel’Thuzad, I’m afraid I won’t be agreeing to your proposals next time. This vessel… is far too crowded.”

Harvey pursed his lips but didn’t argue. He knew the demon wasn’t saying the soul puppet was unsuitable as a container for multiple consciousnesses. Rather, his own mental energy, amplified by the Mental Anchor, had become so immense that it was uncontrollably squeezing Mr. Mind Devil’s conscious projection into a corner of the vessel.

“For now, I’ll have to trouble you to bear with it…” Harvey shook out his robes and gestured to White. “Mr. White, let’s go meet up with Mr. Black immediately and head to the ritual site!”

…

The entire Spellcaster camp was in a chaotic uproar, deliberately thrown into disarray by Black. Many low-ranking Necromancers stumbled out of their tents in a panic, scrambling to suppress and control the Living Corpses that were running rampant through the camp.

Several large stitched corpse puppets charged about wildly, crashing into a few supply caches and scattering a large amount of spellcasting materials and daily necessities all over the ground.

Black, panting, met up with Harvey and White outside the camp. “All the Living Corpses and skeletons from the stone cave… and a few stitched corpse puppets. I woke them all up. It should be enough of a stir to attract some of the people from the ritual site to come and investigate.”

Only then did he notice White’s strange expression. “White, what happened? Why do you look so pale?” he asked, puzzled.

Harvey, however, ignored their brief exchange. He closed his eyes and quickly entered a state of guided meditation, his immense mental energy tentacles spreading out in all directions with himself at the center.

The bloody maw on his neck opened and closed. “Mr. Kel’Thuzad, to the northeast, underground… a dense aura of death.”

At almost the same instant, Harvey sensed the mana fluctuations in that area with his mental energy. He opened his eyes and said to White and Black, “You’ve been deceived. The real ritual isn’t taking place on the western reef slope… It’s underground to the northeast. There must be a natural underground cavern there!”

Realization dawned on Black. “I know that place! It’s not too far from the camp. Let’s hurry!”

Without further delay, the three of them set off at a brisk pace. Soon, in an area dense with reefs, they found a deep, narrow fissure in the ground.

They didn’t even post a guard at the entrance? Are they focusing all their attention on the transformation ritual? Or were the people on the surface drawn away by the chaos at the nearby camp?

Harvey had no time to ponder it. The dim moonlight overhead was nearly at its zenith. The closer it got to midnight, the more danger Lambert was in.

Without the slightest hesitation, he led the way into the black, gaping fissure.

Inside was a long passage, just wide enough to walk through upright, that sloped straight down at a gentle angle. Dim light-emitting magic stones were embedded in the rock face at regular intervals, barely illuminating the path ahead.

The passage suddenly took a nearly ninety-degree turn. The faint, low drone of chanting reached the ears of Harvey and the others, causing White and Black to hold their breath and tread much more cautiously.

The Mind Devil’s whisper echoed in Harvey’s mind. “Just ahead, behind this massive rock face… There’s a protective array. With your level of mental energy, you should be able to break it easily.”

Harvey nodded without a word and strode quickly around the corner. In an instant, he felt his body pass through what seemed like an illusory curtain, as if he had entered a dead world devoid of sound and color, where everything was silently draped in shades of black, white, and gray.

Before him lay an expansive subterranean area. In its center, defying all logic, stood a grand and majestic pale palace, two or three times the size of his own Lord’s Castle. Its tall spires didn’t pierce the rock ceiling above but instead plunged into a swirling void, as if connected to other dimensions.

What shocked Harvey most was that countless vivid faces were frozen into the massive palace’s exterior walls—human, Demon, Dwarf, Elf, and more. Their expressions were sometimes peaceful, sometimes twisted. At a rough glance, there were nearly ten thousand of them.

Harvey had a nagging feeling that something was wrong. Just as he was about to ask Mr. Mind Devil, he felt White and Black suddenly rush past him. They threw themselves to their knees on the ground ahead, then turned to point at the distant palace with faces full of terror. Their lips moved, trying to say something, but not a single sound came out.

Harvey followed the direction they were pointing and was horrified to see that on one section of the wall, their faces were also embedded there, side-by-side. The expressions on their stony visages were identical to those of their true selves kneeling on the ground.

From their constantly moving lips, Harvey finally understood what they were trying to say.

“Why are our faces fused into the walls of this strange palace along with all those dead souls?”

Harvey subconsciously shook his head to show he didn’t know either. He took two steps forward, intending to pull them up from the ground, but he was startled to see two streams of liquid as black as ink slowly trickling from White’s and Black’s fear- and despair-filled eyes, as if they were crying black tears.

The bloody maw on his neck instantly gaped open. Two formless wisps of air surged out, quickly connecting to the bodies of White and Black on the ground. A steady stream of black, dotted substances was drawn from their bodies and absorbed through the bloody maw on Harvey’s neck.

“What’s going on? Mr. Mind Devil, they…”

“If I’m not mistaken, this is an illusory projection of a Sanctum of the Dead, created by a Legendary Necromancer. Once you step into the area it affects, the imprint of your soul is uncontrollably etched upon the Sanctum, while your original flesh-and-blood body will rapidly decay and die.”

Harvey thought to himself, “Then what were you just doing? Were you saving White and Black?”

The Mind Devil fell silent for a moment before replying in a slightly smug tone, “Isn’t this based on that brilliant idea of yours? I used the method you taught me to extract their desire to die from their bodies. As for the will to live… well, I’ve gathered quite a bit of that from elsewhere, so stuffing some into them isn’t a waste. You know I’ve always been very generous.”

He paused, then added a reminder, “But this is only temporary. The body’s decay is irreversible. Except for a strange fellow like you, who is full of secrets, no one else can completely evade this area’s influence. We must either escape or break the projection’s seal as quickly as possible.”

Chapter 327: Aberrant Devouring

Harvey lowered his head and took a closer look, noticing that the black tears had stopped flowing from White and Black’s eyes. They were merely kneeling on the ground, curled up and trembling as if in the throes of a panic attack. At the very least, their lives were not in immediate danger.

Consequently, he hurried forward to the pale palace standing not far away, approaching to observe the distorted faces attached to its walls.

“To think there are even faces of long-extinct intelligent races like the half-demons…” Harvey mused for a moment, communicating with the Mind Devil. “I believe the souls absorbed by this Sanctum of the Dead weren’t accumulated overnight through some massive, bloody sacrificial ritual.”

The Mind Devil grunted in agreement. “Indeed. The outer walls of this palace, forged from tens of thousands of souls, must have a history spanning hundreds, if not thousands, of years. Although this is only a partial projection…”

He suddenly sounded excited as he spoke to Harvey. “I believe its true self exists within a spatial fissure in the Magic Net, and it wasn’t naturally formed. Rather, it was artificially created by a Legendary necromancer from ancient times.”

Harvey understood Mr. Mind Devil’s meaning and shook his head with a sense of helplessness. The native of the Magic Net was suggesting that he could go roaming through the Magic Net later, using this as a clue to find the physical ruins of this projected sanctum.

“Mr. Mind Devil, with all due respect… shouldn’t we solve the problem at hand before planning our future recreational activities?”

As Harvey grumbled, he reached out a hand to tentatively touch a face on the wall. Before his palm even made contact, an uncontrollable craving suddenly surged from the depths of his conscious space.

He didn’t dare to underestimate the occasional disturbances in his Mental Anchor and quickly tried to pull his hand back. But in an instant… a fissure of flesh and blood split open in the center of his palm. Just like when he had devoured the three Demon Slayers from the Church on the Shore of Souls, it clamped its bloody maw around the pale face on the wall.

The face let out a silent scream. The other faces around it stirred to life, twisting in terror, attempting to flee from the area covered by Harvey’s hand, squirming like geckos on a wall.

The grotesque mouth in his palm quickly tore the face it had bitten to shreds and devoured it completely. But it continued to open and close, sending a clear craving for more food into Harvey’s mind, trying to guide him to continue preying on the surrounding faces.

Harvey pulled his hand back and looked at it. He didn’t feel any problems with his body. In fact, because the monstrous mouth on his palm had devoured a face, his fingers were gradually changing from their pale, grayish-black color back to their original fair, fleshy tone.

The normal colors that had mysteriously vanished from this area were actually returning to his fingers…

“What’s going on?” Harvey muttered to himself in confusion.

The Mind Devil, who had been silent in his mind for a long while, suddenly spoke in a low, ghostly voice, “Mr. Kel’Thuzad… tsk, tsk, tsk. I’ve only just discovered that when it comes to craving Votive Power and desire, you are in no way inferior to me…”

Craving Votive Power and desire?

A thought flickered in Harvey’s mind, and he asked, “Mr. Mind Devil, these faces of the dead I’ve devoured… are they some kind of existence condensed from desire?”

“The life essence contained within a flesh-and-blood body, the Soul Core stored in the conscious space… they are originally formed from the condensation of countless human natures and desires. What’s so strange about that…”

He paused, a strange hint of jealousy in his tone. “The desire and Votive Power contained in these faces of the dead have been eroded by death energy for a long time. They are too mixed and sullied, unsuitable for my kind to absorb… As for you, hehe, with your mental energy strength and your strange… traits, you don’t need to be a picky eater at all.”

You think I want to eat this myself? Harvey couldn’t help but retort inwardly. But his hand, being very honest, continued to move closer to the palace wall, tearing apart and devouring the faces of the dead that were huddled together with nowhere to run.

Soon… his entire arm, then his torso, and finally his faded robes, all returned to their normal colors. From a distance, it was as if a lively and colorful goldfish had suddenly appeared in a pool of stagnant, grayish-black water.

Harvey lost count of how many dead faces he had devoured. He only felt his conscious space gradually becoming full, to the point where even his temples and forehead began to feel a slight sense of swelling, and a faint stinging pain appeared between his eyebrows.

“I think that’s enough… Look up at the sky,” the Mind Devil spoke up at the right time, offering a hint.

Harvey raised his head and looked towards the top of the towering palace castle. He saw that the spire, which delved into a swirling void, was slowly crumbling and flaking away as if weathered by the wind. In the blink of an eye, the entire upper half of the massive palace had dissipated before his eyes. The cave’s ceiling was revealed, showing the silvery-white moonlight that was seeping in through crevices in the mountain.

Two pained groans came from behind him. Harvey turned around to find that White and Black had regained consciousness at some point and were slowly sitting up from the ground.

Black seemed to have been more severely injured. After a moment’s pause, his face contorted in pain and he twitched, then retched, spewing out a large mouthful of thick, black ooze. Frightened, White quickly pulled a healing potion from his pocket and poured it down his throat.

“It’s nothing serious. The two of you have only sustained some trauma to your souls. It can be slowly healed through a period of persistent meditation. Don’t force yourselves to channel mana for spells for the next few days,” the Mind Devil’s distorted bloody maw on Harvey’s neck advised, its lips parting and closing.

White nodded, his face still showing lingering fear. He looked at Harvey and said sincerely, “Lord Harvey… and, er… Mr. Devil, thank you both for saving us. I never expected the Necromantic Cult’s ritual site to be so dangerous. No wonder they strictly forbade us from approaching it at will… And to think we foolishly tried to rescue Lambert on our own. If it weren’t for…”

Harvey waved his hand, signaling them to say no more. He instructed them in a gentle voice, “Since you can’t participate in the fight, I suggest you leave this place immediately. Of course… after returning to the camp, head to the docks as soon as possible and prepare a sea vessel for Lambert and me, ready to set sail at any moment. If I haven’t returned by dawn, you can choose to escape on your own…”

Black, who had recovered after drinking the potion, looked up and said resolutely, “No, Lord Harvey. We will never abandon you and Lambert to save our own skins. We will return to the docks ahead of time and wait for you. If the rescue mission fails, the worst that can happen is we’ll let our families and the Cult deal with us.”

With that, the two of them stood up and bowed to Harvey, then retreated along the path they had come, exiting the underground ritual area.

The Mind Devil said quietly, “Alright! The two young deadweights are finally gone. Mr. Kel’Thuzad, let’s enter the ritual altar now…”

Harvey turned around and looked at the dissipated projection of the Sanctum of the Dead, and after its disappearance… a rough, square stone doorway that had been revealed in the mountain face ahead.

Chapter 328: Reversing the Ritual

Harvey took out the silver skull insignia he had received upon graduating from the Necromancy Academy, pinned it to the right breast of his mage robe, then straightened his robes and stepped through the stone gate.

The rumored mysterious and dark site of the Lich transformation ritual was not at all as evil and bloody as he had imagined. In an underground cavern, which had clearly been excavated on a temporary basis, stood a round stone platform over a meter high. The stone altar was densely covered with countless dark red magic ritual runes, which were currently flickering in and out of existence like a breathing lung, in time with the low chanting of an incantation.

In the center of the altar stood a two-meter-tall bone pillar. Judging by its shape and appearance, it seemed to be the spinal column of some ancient, large demonic beast, its surface also engraved with a vast number of inscriptions.

A middle-aged man, naked save for a dirty animal skin wrapped around his lower body, was half-lying against the bone spine, his eyes tightly shut as if he had entered a state of deep meditation.

The disturbance from the seal being broken outside the ritual cavern had clearly alerted everyone present. By the time Harvey strode in, a dozen or so Necromancers, all looking rather elderly and dressed in gray-black long robes with comical, folded-corner pointed hats, had gathered to block him at the cavern’s entrance.

The white-bearded elder who had met Harvey in the camp was stunned for a moment, then said with indignation, “Lord, what is the meaning of this? Even if you are a guest invited by Ashe, to enter the ritual site without permission is an absolute offense to us!”

Harvey scanned the room and noticed that the Spellcasters present all had somewhat ashen and dejected complexions, as if they had exhausted all their mental and spiritual energy during the long ritual. They looked quite haggard.

He let out a soft laugh and said lightly, “Please forgive my presumption, but… I am simply looking for my friend, Mr. Ash Lambert. Once I see him, I will leave immediately and disturb you no further.”

The white-bearded elder flicked his long sleeve and snorted coldly. “Ashe must take part in a crucial stage of the ritual and has no time to reminisce with you now. We can forgive you, Lord, for destroying the seal projection outside, but for now, please leave at once!”

The other members of the Necromantic Cult and the Lambert family who were present watched Harvey in silence, but in their hearts, they all knew that the seal projection of the Sanctum of the Dead was not something a mere low-to-mid-rank Spellcaster could easily break, especially one who was single-handedly and without a single assistant.

If not for the skull insignia pinned to Harvey’s chest that identified him as a Necromancer, the crowd might have mistaken him for a high-rank Mage from an orthodox school of casting, sent by the Federation or the Wizard Council to cause trouble.

“Ashe has no time to reminisce with me now?” Harvey chuckled twice, his expression turning cold. “Then I’m afraid that after the ritual is over, we’ll never have the chance to reminisce again, will we? Sir, do you plan on handing his corpse over to me later, so I can refine it into a Living Corpse puppet and converse with him then?”

Facing more than ten mid-to-high-rank Necromancers alone, Harvey wasn’t entirely unafraid. It was just that he had come as a soul puppet. Even if it was struck by a fatal attack spell, the most that would happen was the collapse of its shell, which would cause no harm to his true self.

He had also completely thought through the worst-case scenario—if negotiations failed and he was forced to act, at the very instant the shell was focus-fired upon, he would use the Magic Net’s positioning marker to destroy all the clustered Spellcasters with an energy beam in the shortest time possible. It didn’t matter if they were Ashe’s family or kin; saving him came first.

“Gentlemen, your transformation ritual is on the verge of failure. I see absolutely no need to waste the life of another colleague in a futile struggle.”

Adhering to the principle of avoiding conflict if at all possible, Harvey still tried his best to dissuade them.

The white-bearded elder snorted, and just as he was about to berate the man for his ignorance, a middle-aged Mage with black hair stepped forward from behind him and said in a heavy tone, “Lord, you know the process of the ancient Lich transformation ritual?”

“Extract the life essence, forge a soul vessel, mix in the blood of an ancient divine creature… and finally, through a long and complex ritual, sacrifice one’s entire soul and flesh to complete the twisted cycle from life to death, and then resurrection from death.”

Harvey expressionlessly recounted the secret knowledge he had obtained from the Spellcaster Forum, adding Mr. Mind Devil’s sarcastic comment at the end, “You probably couldn’t get your hands on the blood of an ancient divine creature, could you? What did you use as a substitute? That is most likely the reason for your failure.”

Upon hearing this, the assembled Necromancers were all greatly shocked, and they lowered their heads, muttering to each other in buzzing whispers.

The middle-aged Mage was silent for a moment before he spoke. “Since you, Lord, have spoken of the ritual’s secrets and key points, you should also understand… even if the transformation fails, we cannot bear the loss of a Speaker of the Cult who has already achieved high-rank advancement. Ashe… he must bear the responsibility of preserving the family’s strength. This is a necessary sacrifice.”

Harvey shook his head. “This is an unnecessary sacrifice. If I have a way to halt the ritual’s progress and rescue your Speaker from his state of mutation due to the failed transformation… will you release my friend?”

Halt the ritual’s progress?

The white-bearded elder and the middle-aged Mage looked at each other and denied it in unison. “Once the ritual is halted, the Speaker’s body will immediately and irreversibly disintegrate. We have explored every possibility; there is simply no way to achieve it.”

“If failure is inevitable, why not let me try?” Harvey took two steps forward, adopting a condescending and aggressive posture.

The middle-aged Mage recalled how the man had broken the seal projection, and he closed his eyes in resignation, letting out a long sigh. “So be it… Seeing as you are one of us, I will permit you to try and halt the ritual.”

“Councilor Pular! You mustn’t!”

“What if his reckless actions cause the ritual to fail? It will be too late for us to perform the blood sacrifice!”

“Lord Councilor, the Clan Head… his body… Look!”

Everyone turned their gaze to the altar. They saw the Lambert Clan Head, who was slumped against the bone spine wrapped in animal skin, with a large amount of a black-and-white, dust-like substance slowly seeping from his arms. As soon as this substance touched the magic formation on the altar, it was immediately absorbed and assimilated with great speed, merging into the flickering ritual runes.

Harvey frowned. “See? The life essence is already being uncontrollably extracted. Even if you were to perform the blood sacrifice right now, you would not be able to salvage the situation. In the end, all you will get is the completely decayed shell of a demi-lich.”

Everyone fell silent. The crowd automatically parted, creating a path to the altar. Councilor Pular and the white-bearded elder stared at the ground with pale faces, their silence a tacit approval.

Harvey nodded at them and walked slowly to the side of the altar, silently communicating with the Mind Devil in his heart. “Mr. Mind Devil, I’ll have to trouble you now. Please extract the dispersing life essence from the Lambert Clan Head’s body as quickly as possible, while I will be responsible for extracting his Soul Core.”

The Mind Devil’s voice echoed faintly in his mind. “No problem. However, I have a small proposal. Of the life essence we extract, I’ll take some of the human desires contained within as my commission for helping this time. How about it?”

Harvey was slightly speechless. He knew there would be some catch asking this guy for help. Extracting a portion of his desires…

“You’re not going to take his desire for magical knowledge, are you? If you do, even if he is saved, the Lambert family will only be left with a useless and unambitious father and son. He might as well be dead.”

The Mind Devil chuckled. “Since you’ve mentioned it, I won’t take that part. How about I take his familial love? It seems his longing and guilt for his deceased children are so thick they’re almost tangible… That would make a fine addition to my collection of desires.”

A fine choice… Harvey thought silently. In any case, Ashe and this Lambert Clan Head didn’t seem to have a loving father-son relationship.

With Harvey’s permission, the Mind Devil immediately condensed its summoned physical projection. Several dark-red, twisted tentacles extended from Harvey’s eyes, nose, and mouth, rapidly snaking toward the man slumped on the altar. They began to compete with the ritual runes on the altar for the life essence seeping from the man’s body.

Sudden Business Trip, Taking a Day Off!

Sudden Business Trip, Taking a Day Off!

My boss suddenly sent me on a business trip to cover for a colleague who’s taking time off, so I have to take a day off. I’m very sorry!

I really hope I can improve sooner, write a good book, and finally make a living as a full-time author… I really can’t take this low-paying, high-stress job anymore!

Chapter 329: Soul Extraction and the Severance of Desire

Seeing that Mr. Mind Devil had begun absorbing the life essence, Harvey unhurriedly took out an exquisite alchemical instrument from his storage ring, its surface engraved with countless complex runes. Speaking of which, the ring on his finger was a recent gift from The Scorching Sovereign, and it had turned out to be quite useful on this trip.

The alchemical instrument Harvey held was a “portable Soul Extractor” he had developed and improved with Chris. It allowed Harvey to activate it directly with his own vast mental energy, no longer needing to rely entirely on the massive Planet-level Energy-gathering Array in the underground Laboratory. Its only drawback was that it could only extract, not transfer, essentially functioning as a portable soul vessel.

Harvey used Mage Hand to make the Soul Extractor levitate. Its cylindrical Mithril casing unfolded under the control of its alchemical mechanisms, revealing several extremely miniaturized soul arrays drawn directly on the inside, which activated instantly under the guidance of Harvey’s mental energy.

The group of Necromancers standing a short distance behind Harvey were all dumbfounded, but none dared to speak or even step forward, fearing they would interrupt the strange procedure Harvey was performing.

“What… What kind of ritual is this?” the white-bearded elder murmured in a very low voice. “I’ve never heard of it before… Can it really stop a failed transformation process?”

Councilor Pular’s brow was tightly furrowed. His lips moved as he whispered, “I can’t sense any fluctuations of death energy… nor does it resemble the casting methods of any other orthodox school of casting. This friend of Ashe’s… no, this Lord, is likely performing a ritual of his own invention to terminate the out-of-control transformation ritual.”

Is he… a Legendary Caster???

The others exchanged glances. In the entire southern continent, any Spellcaster who advanced to the Legendary-rank would have their esteemed name and deeds resound throughout the world of casters. Even the aged Legends who had long since withdrawn from worldly affairs were not completely unknown; they were merely reclusive and eccentric by nature, not entirely unheard of.

At the very least, the Federation of Casters’ annual “Truth Gazette” would publish the recent research and glorious achievements of these Lords. The most renowned among them even had their silhouettes printed in the gazette.

But this one before them…

Councilor Pular shook his head slightly at his colleagues. A person who had created their own ritual magic but had not officially advanced to Legendary rank was simply unheard of.

…

Almost at the exact moment Harvey completed the soul extraction, the dark-red, twisted tentacles that the Mind Devil had extended from his body instantly retracted. The other’s voice sounded in his mind.

“Mr. Kel’Thuzad, I have finished absorbing all the life essence… It’s a pity we started a little late. A portion of this poor gentleman’s essence has been irrevocably lost.”

Harvey nodded silently. “This is the most we could do. From here on, please take good care of this essence, Mr. Mind Devil. I must return to my territory in the Northern Realm to transfer it into a suitable cybernetic body. Whatever you do, don’t mix it up with your other collectibles and merge them together.”

The Mind Devil chuckled, seemingly in high spirits. “Rest assured! Cooperating with you is always both novel and satisfying. I will definitely not disappoint you in this regard.”

Having received his assurance, Harvey couldn’t help but smile slightly. He reached out, took back the alchemical instrument that had finished the soul extraction, and turned to the Necromancers who were waiting anxiously behind him.

“Everyone, the ritual has been successfully reversed and terminated. Clan Head Lambert’s dispersing life essence has been collected by me… and his soul imprint is now safely stored within this alchemical instrument.”

Councilor Pular was stunned for a moment, then he rushed forward two steps. “What? Can’t you just wake the Speaker up directly? This… Isn’t this the same as putting the Speaker into an eternal slumber?”

They had expected Harvey to reverse the ritual’s progress and restore Clan Head Lambert from the brink of failure to his normal state before the ceremony began. But this so-called soul vessel… how was it any different from an urn for ashes?

Harvey said helplessly, “Everyone, what are you daydreaming about? Even if a Legendary Lord were to come here, I doubt they could reverse time and give you back a lucid and healthy Clan Head Lambert, could they?”

He pointed to the alchemical container in his hand and explained patiently, “Since I dared to extract Mr. Lambert’s life essence and soul imprint, I naturally have a way to transfer it to a new vessel! His original body was already decaying and failing. No one could have saved it!”

Councilor Pular took a deep breath to calm himself and asked in a low voice, “Lord, what should we do next? A new vessel… Are you saying you intend to prepare a new body of flesh and blood for the Speaker? How… How is that possible?”

The monumental feat of creating a “Man-made God” or achieving “Life Alchemy”—something that successive Chiefs and high-rank Alchemists of the Alchemical Exploration Society had failed to accomplish—sounded as simple as creating a Living Corpse coming from the mouth of this “Necromancer Master,” who was supposedly one of their peers.

A few of the more knowledgeable Necromancers asked in astonishment and doubt, “Lord! Is it the legendary secret art of Flesh Reshaping?”

Once the question was raised, everyone began to discuss it animatedly.

“The secret art of Flesh Reshaping requires the essence blood of an ancient Devil… Just like with the orthodox Lich transformation ritual, the blood of such a divine creature is impossible to obtain. Otherwise, why would we have needed to modify the ritual?”

“If it’s not Flesh Reshaping, then what method does this Lord intend to use? I know of several high-rank necromantic rituals that can reanimate the dead, but they can only turn them into more powerful Living Corpses or corpse puppets. They can’t restore their consciousness.”

“Turn the Speaker into a corpse puppet? We might as well have just let the ritual fail…”

“Let the ritual fail? Then we would have had to face a terrifying Lich monster completely devoid of reason! It would have turned every living thing on this island reef into its mindless corpse puppets!”

Seeing the academic discussion growing increasingly heated, Harvey quickly held up a hand to stop them from making baseless speculations.

“I cannot explain the specific method in detail at the moment. I will need to return to my own mage’s domain before I can formally begin the related experiments.”

He scanned the faces of his fellow Necromancers, who were staring at him with burning intensity, and smiled. “Gentlemen, should the next step not be releasing my friend, Mr. Ash Lambert?”

Councilor Pular bowed sincerely and walked over to the stone altar. He pressed a hidden mechanism, and with a grinding sound, the altar revealed a coffin-sized opening beneath its surface.

Without waiting for help, Harvey stepped forward himself. With a pull, Ashe—also naked and wrapped in a bloody animal hide—tumbled out of the opening with a thud. He collapsed limply on the ground, his eyes tightly shut, completely unconscious.

Councilor Pular cleared his throat awkwardly and explained, “We gave Ashe a sleeping potion—the kind used to pacify rampaging Living Corpses. It won’t cause any harm to his body. He should wake up naturally by noon at the latest.”

Harvey pursed his lips and said sarcastically, “It seems my friend Ashe didn’t exactly volunteer to shoulder the responsibility of preserving the family’s strength and make this great sacrifice…”

Chapter 330: An Unconventional Path to Immortality

Seeing that Ashe was safe and sound, Harvey decided not to delay any longer. He proposed to the group of Necromancers in the ritual cavern, “Everyone, since the ritual has been terminated, why don’t we return to the camp to discuss what comes next?”

Councilor Pular and the white-bearded elder nodded, instructing a few members of the Necromantic Cult to remain behind. They were tasked with retrieving Clan Head Lambert’s body, which was now devoid of all life, and with quickly cleaning up the ritual’s numerous devices and the rune array.

By the time the group returned to the Spellcaster camp, they found that the chaos stirred up earlier by Black’s Living Corpses and corpse puppets had only just been painstakingly suppressed by their colleagues who had remained behind. The camp was still a complete mess, with several tents having been trampled flat.

Harvey coughed twice in embarrassment and politely called over a young Necromancer, asking him to go to the dock area and inform White and Black that the situation was under control.

He himself, at Councilor Pular’s invitation, ducked into the largest, peaked tent in the camp, which was being used as a temporary meeting hall.

As the situation eased, the assembled Necromancers finally relaxed. Before Councilor Pular could even speak, they swarmed Harvey the moment he entered the tent. With looks of intense craving, they all started talking at once, asking about the peculiar spell he had used to reverse the ritual and the key principles behind it.

Councilor Pular stood to the side, a look of embarrassment on his face. He didn’t know whether to step forward and stop them or to let them freely express their thirst for knowledge. The situation for their school of casting had been far too difficult for centuries. Not only were they seen by the secular world as a byword for evil and bloodshed, subject to joint suppression by the Church and the nobility, but even within the Spellcaster community, they were ostracized by other schools that considered themselves orthodox.

Most Necromancers passed down their knowledge through family or master-disciple apprenticeships, struggling to maintain their traditions. A few lucky ones had the opportunity to attend one of the few Necromancy Academies in the south and receive a more formal and systematic academy-trained education. However, the academic circle remained very small, and they often had to rely on their own isolated efforts when it came to research and advancement.

But because of this, Necromancers, regardless of their background or status, were more inclined to help one another and stick together for warmth. That was why these people dared to so boldly ask Harvey for guidance, completely unafraid that prying into another’s magical research would easily offend him.

“Lord Harvey, once the life essence and soul imprint are extracted separately, can they truly be re-fused without a rejection reaction?”

“Mr. Harvey, the legendary secret art of Flesh Reshaping, can the caster apply it directly to themselves?”

“Lord Harvey, that alchemical instrument you used in the ritual earlier, is it a product of combining alchemy with necromantic rituals? But… shouldn’t necromancy use fleshly matter as a medium to channel death energy from the Magic Net?”

“Shadow Magic! It must be a… a hybrid spell that combines Shadow Magic with death energy, right? Does your Lordship’s unique spell have the potential to reach the Legendary-rank?”

…

Harvey was completely surrounded by these men, who were thirsty for knowledge, and he felt a throbbing pain in his head. Amid the buzzing, he finally managed to find a chair someone had pushed toward him and plopped down onto it.

The scene felt like a group of vocational students asking an undergraduate… about the ultimate truth of the universe’s origin.

He truly couldn’t answer most of their questions!

“Gentlemen! Gentlemen!” The white-bearded elder squeezed his way to the front, holding his hands out to push back the encroaching crowd. “This is highly improper! Lord Harvey is our honored guest now! Please, control yourselves!”

He then took out a handkerchief, wiped the sweat from his brow, and bowed. “My apologies, please forgive my earlier arrogance and rudeness. I am Sirius Lambert… I am also that boy Ashe’s uncle.”

Harvey frowned slightly, looking in disbelief at the old Mage before him, who appeared to be at least seventy years old. “You are… Ashe’s uncle?”

He knew very well that Ashe was several years younger than him, and his friend’s father, Clan Head Lambert, was only in his early forties. How could he suddenly have an uncle this old?

Councilor Pular stepped forward at the right moment to explain. “Sirius has spent many years in the family’s ancestral Corpse Cave, shouldering the responsibility of guarding the Living Corpses to prevent them from rampaging, all while conducting high-intensity research on refining them…”

So his extremely aged appearance was caused by deep erosion from death energy…

Sirius himself gave a wry smile and removed his gentleman’s hat, revealing a messy head of sparse white hair. “After I barely managed to advance to high-rank, I felt that my life was likely coming to an end. It was originally I who was supposed to undertake this extremely risky Lich transformation ritual… but the Clan Head flatly refused, which led to today’s mess that nearly became unmanageable.”

Harvey nodded in understanding and asked casually, “The Sanctum of the Dead projection used to protect the ritual site, that must have been your work, Lord Sirius?”

Sirius shook his head and pointed to Councilor Pular. “That was Pular’s masterpiece. My body is too old; I can no longer withstand the mana backlash from wielding a legendary-level magic artifact.”

Councilor Pular promptly took out an exquisitely crafted, grayish-white miniature castle model from his pocket, which seemed to be carved from bone. He explained without any hesitation, “This is the only Legendary necromantic artifact the Necromantic Cult has left. Its function is to condense the legendary Sanctum of the Dead, shrouding an area. Any enemy who wanders into it will uncontrollably lose their will to live and gradually have their vitality drained from them…”

Harvey glanced at the high-rank Necromancer insignia on Councilor Pular’s chest, then let his gaze sweep over the other colleagues from various factions gathered around. He immediately understood.

The necromantic school of casting was truly suffering from a dearth of talent. The Lambert family, with its centuries of history, combined with the equally ancient Necromantic Cult, could only muster two high-rank Necromancers and a single, pitiful Legendary magic artifact. It was a truly tragic sight.

“Councilor Pular, Mr. Sirius… I’m a little confused. Why must you perform the Lich transformation ritual? Not only is it a taboo of the Federation, but it also makes you an easy target for the Church to launch a large-scale, justified attack…”

He paused, then continued, “Besides, you couldn’t fully replicate the correct, ancient ritual procedure. Using a modified ritual with substitute materials was bound to end in failure…”

His frank and open inquiry immediately戳 on a sore spot they were all aware of. Most of them hung their heads and fell silent, their faces growing even paler.

Sirius’s lips trembled as he spoke, his voice shaking with a bitter smile, “Do you think we don’t know that? But the necromantic school of casting has lost its path to the Legendary rank. Because we deal with death energy year-round, our lifespans, even after reaching high-rank, are shorter than even an ordinary low or mid-rank Spellcaster’s…”

Councilor Pular wrung the hem of his formal coat, an expression of despair on his face—ashamed of their current situation, yet powerless to change the future.

An idea suddenly sparked in Harvey’s mind.

“Gentlemen, why do you insist on lingering on this fruitless research into fleshly matter? As we all know, our connection as Spellcasters to the energy of the Magic Net is primarily guided by the soul and mental energy… why not turn your sights to the soul level? Is Flesh Reshaping really more noble than soul immortality?”

The soul level? Did he mean researching the witless specters that are born after the dead are eroded by energy? Those things are even worse than a skeleton of white bones. They can’t be refined or preserved, and they dissipate naturally over time soon after being captured…

As the crowd frowned and pondered this, Sirius and Councilor Pular looked at each other. Their bodies began to tremble uncontrollably, and they asked in unison, “Lord… Lord Harvey… may we ask… may we ask what… soul… soul immortality… is?”

Chapter 331: An Invitation of Coaxing and Deceit

Faced with the emotional and pressing questions from Xilisi and Councilor Pular, Harvey had no intention of holding back. After a moment of thought, he slowly explained, “The inspiration for the experiment came from the Alchemical Exploration Society’s research into soul forging. I see it as simply abandoning the flesh-and-blood body and transferring the soul, as an independent energy substance, into a non-living container.”

“Ah… so it wasn’t soul forging, but soul transfer…” Xilisi nodded thoughtfully. “So the method you plan to use to save Clan Head Lambert also stems from this soul transfer technology?”

Harvey nodded in tacit agreement. While these Necromancers had limited access to magical knowledge, and many advanced spell experiments and theoretical innovations were not generously shared with them, it was precisely for this reason that this group of “single-minded specialists” in the magical world poured all their energy into the study of Necromancy, charging headlong down a single path for a very long time.

Councilor Pular also frowned, lost in thought. After a moment, he asked tentatively, “Did you mean to say… that the general direction of research for the Necromancy school of casting shouldn’t be confined to the refinement of death energy and fleshly bodies, but should instead turn toward the Magic Net and the soul level? Is… is this theory one that has already been clearly verified by experiment?”

The bait Harvey had intentionally dangled was finally taken…

He quickly cleared his throat, causing the group of Necromancers gathered around him to rally their spirits and focus their full attention, silently awaiting the answer to this crucial question.

“I, too, once focused my research on the application of death energy, and I gained some insights into the techniques of creating Living Corpses… However, as my experiments progressed, I discovered a problem that was both obvious and yet very easily overlooked.”

Harvey stood up, reached out, and gently pulled back the flap of the council tent. He pointed to the pile of freshly controlled Living Corpses within the camp and smiled. “Whether it’s the corpse of a human, a non-human, a domestic animal, a wild beast, or a magical creature, under the control of a Resurrection Spell, they can only be refined into mindless, walking dead…”

This was one of the most fundamental and basic theories of the Necromancy school of casting—Necromancers were not gods, so they naturally couldn’t bring the dead back to life in a true sense. They merely used mana to guide and control corpses, essentially treating them as weapons and tools forged from fleshly shells.

“But have any of you considered this: where do the life essence and soul imprint of the deceased go? Heh, I assume there are no devout followers of the Radiant Church here? So no one should say they go to the God of Glory’s heavenly kingdom.”

Xilisi nodded and answered cautiously, “It’s not just Spellcasters of our school. Other orthodox schools of casting also generally believe that after death, the life essence and soul imprint rapidly dissipate and vanish, subsequently being eroded and absorbed by the Magic Net.”

This was a theory concerning the nature of the world and mana, proposed by the Federation’s very first Chief. This mysterious Legendary Lord believed that the operations of the world and the Magic Net required absolute Balance. Therefore, for all the mana and energy the real world drew from the Magic Net, an equal amount of life essence and soul imprints had to be returned upon death. This was to ensure the two intertwined spaces maintained a delicate energy equilibrium, preventing their collapse.

“My experiment was inspired by precisely this…” Harvey said with a smile. “The magical theories concerning life essence are simply too profound and obscure. For thousands of years, there has been no significant research breakthrough in this area, which is why those great Alchemist Lords of the Alchemical Exploration Society have been repeatedly frustrated.”

“But… research into the attunement of the soul and mana has long since matured. Modern Spellcasters are generally adept at using guided meditation to train their mental energy and soul strength, hoping to draw mana from the Magic Net more quickly to replenish themselves.”

This viewpoint immediately earned the agreement of all the Necromancers. Someone chimed in, “Exactly. The Elves, for example, whose meditation abilities are weaker than humans, were the first to invent the spell coordinator to assist in connecting to the Magic Net space and drawing mana, weren’t they?”

This group of Necromancers caught on instantly and were excellent at extrapolating from a single point. It gave Harvey the illusion that he was teaching a class of prodigies, and their feedback left him feeling extremely pleased and satisfied.

“So, what I jokingly called the path to soul immortality is actually just the complete transfer of a living being’s soul imprint into a non-living alchemical container… Since we can’t prevent the natural dissipation of life essence, we might as well decisively cast it aside and focus solely on the preservation and continuation of the soul.”

Councilor Pular reacted very quickly, immediately pressing, “Lord, we have tried the soul transfer you speak of in the past, but the speed at which a soul imprint dissipates after death is simply too fast. There’s no time to extract it completely. And even fragmented soul matter… is extremely difficult to preserve for any length of time.”

This actually left Harvey speechless for a moment. He blinked, then said faintly with a hidden meaning, “Gentlemen, surely you haven’t attempted… er, the high-risk experiment of… extracting a soul from… a living person?”

What a group of rule-abiding “evil” Necromancers…

An “honest man” immediately jumped up and explained in a low voice, “It’s not that we haven’t… Before my teacher passed away, he donated his body for… for a few of us students to conduct research in this area… Unfortunately…”

To think they had even developed a pedagogical tradition of “silent teachers” was truly somewhat admirable.

“Either the soul energy itself was too weak in a near-death state, or you were not brave enough to try using pure mana to guide the soul transfer… Gentlemen, do not fixate only on the cornerstone of Necromancy—death energy. Sometimes, elemental mana and arcane mana can also become powerful aids in our manipulation of flesh and soul.”

As the conversation deepened, Harvey began to realize that this group of supposedly “academically isolated” and “theoretically backward” Necromancers was, in the truest sense, the purest research-oriented school among all Spellcasters.

Not only did they lack a clear division between combat spells and universal spells, but most of the time, what the secular world deemed evil and terrifying—the creation of corpses and control of ghosts—was done more to satisfy their own research needs. They were only used for combat or defense when necessary.

It was akin to a researcher, attacked on the street, grabbing the thick stack of their dissertation to bludgeon their assailant—except this dissertation looked like a horrifying reanimated corpse.

They’re all “specialized talents,” Harvey couldn’t help but feel a stirring of temptation in his heart.

He had to find a way to package them all up, to coax and trick them into coming back to his territory in the barren lands. If he could, the magical research team he had always dreamed of would immediately have a solid framework.

With this in mind, Harvey coughed a few times and said to Xilisi and Councilor Pular in a gentle voice, “Regarding the research direction of the Necromancy school of casting, I actually have many aspects that need to be perfected and experimentally verified… Unfortunately, I have never found like-minded people who resonate with my ideas and can quickly advance the progress of this research.”

He pointed to the Soul Extractor containing Clan Head Lambert’s soul, which had been carefully placed to one side, and said earnestly, “Gentlemen, since Clan Head Lambert’s soul transfer experiment requires me to return to my own mage territory to officially begin, why don’t you… all come be my guests? This way, we can also freely engage in deep academic discussions.”

Xilisi and Councilor Pular remained silent, appearing to genuinely consider the feasibility of Harvey’s invitation. The other Necromancers, however, looked eager and incredibly desirous, but since their leaders had not yet spoken, they could only stare on anxiously.

Just as Harvey was about to offer them further assurances of safety, the Mind Devil, who had been quiet in his mind for a long time, could no longer hold back.

“Mr. Kel’Thuzad, after this collaboration is over, please do me a favor and go home to check your family tree, just as I will…” The Mind Devil’s words were steeped in sarcasm. “Why do I feel that this speech of yours sounds so similar to how my race tempts other intelligent lifeforms into signing ritual contracts to sell their souls? Are you certain no one in your ancestry for the past three generations had any blood ties to my people?”

Chapter 332: The Return Plan

The members of the Lambert family and the Necromantic Cult could not resist the temptation of Harvey’s theory of spiritual “eternal life.” Moreover, the organization’s only other high-rank caster, Clan Head Lambert, was in dire need of a soul transfer to be reborn.

Ultimately, in an internal resolution initiated by family elder Xilisi and the cult’s Councilor Pular, the decision to follow Harvey to his mage territory in the Northern Barren Lands was passed unanimously.

But for this group of Necromancers to disembark grandly from the Land of a Thousand Sails, Faros, and then travel through the secular kingdoms of the central continent where the Church’s influence was strong, was clearly both dangerous and unrealistic.

After some discussion with the two leaders, Harvey decided they would stick to the same route they took to get here: land at Erisburg, use the local Federation branch’s continental teleportation array with a transfer in the Barkley Duchy, and finally arrive in the wizard kingdom Da’ers, which was currently at war with St. Valen.

However, the continental teleportation array at the Federation branch was limited in scale, making it impossible for over a hundred Spellcasters to reach their destination in a short period. Furthermore, they were refugees, and most of them carried precious experimental equipment and large quantities of expensive materials.

Harvey’s instantaneous Magic Net teleportation technology couldn’t be used to quickly set up a temporary teleportation device on this barren offshore reef. Relying on the meager energy of hand-drawn arrays to move all their belongings thousands of kilometers to the Northern Barren Lands would take an eternity.

Therefore, after teleporting from Da’ers to Grizzly Keep, they would need to take a short, two-day-and-two-night journey by alchemical vehicle. Fortunately, the entire Grizzly Bear Territory was currently under his armed control, so there was no need to worry about safety along the way.

…

“Lord Harvey, can we really not bring a single Living Corpse or corpse puppet with us?”

“That’s right… those are experimental materials we’ve accumulated for a long time. They can even serve as labor for moving goods. It’s such a waste to just abandon them on this island.”

“My stitched corpse puppet has been with me for years. I’ve meticulously maintained it with preservative potions every day. It’s truly hard to part with…”

Ever since the discriminatory laws targeting Necromancers were enacted, obtaining corpses through conventional means had become increasingly difficult. Most Necromancers, unable to find a source of corpses and lacking the courage to risk breaking the law, had grown to treasure the Living Corpse materials they had on hand. For this migration to the island, almost everyone had brought four or five refined Living Corpses and corpse puppets.

So, after the travel plans were finalized, Necromancers continuously approached Harvey, cautiously pleading with him to let them bring their Living Corpses along to avoid the difficulty of finding suitable corpses after arriving at his esteemed territory.

“Everyone, there’s no need to worry. My territory is in the barren lands… Are you not aware of what is most abundant in the barren lands?” Harvey shook his head helplessly and offered reassurance, “Vile orcs! Thousands of vile orc tribes are entrenched in the Northern Barren Lands. Every winter, they swarm south to plunder, only to be stopped by us in the plains north of the Spine of the Continent Mountains. We slaughter so many that their bodies pile up into small mountains, requiring several consecutive days of burning just to be cleared away!”

These Necromancers couldn’t comprehend why the vile orcs were held at the Spine of the Continent Mountains, nor did they understand how they were so easily slaughtered and defeated… Their minds were filled with only Harvey’s last sentence— “bodies piled up into small mountains.”

Large quantities of fresh, non-human race corpses that were both free and legal!

What more was there to say? The few Living Corpses they possessed, which were inevitably missing arms and legs despite repeated maintenance, were immediately cast aside.

…

When Ash Lambert awoke, he felt as if he were on the roiling sea, his mind a blank slate with a hint of dizziness.

“Ashe, you’re awake?” Harvey leaned in and skillfully lifted his eyelids to check for blood congestion. The calming potion for Living Corpses concocted by Necromancers could easily cause damage to the brain and mental energy if the dosage wasn’t properly controlled when used on a living person.

Ashe shook his head, brushing Harvey’s hand from his face. “Wasn’t I… wasn’t I being…”

“The ritual failed. There was no need to sacrifice your life as well. I persuaded your clansmen to give up the plan of using a blood sacrifice to try and awaken Uncle Lambert,” Harvey said flatly.

Ashe froze. His lips parted and closed a few times as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he lowered his head in dejection and grief.

“My father… is he already…”

Harvey nodded and pointed to a silver metal canister on the table in the ship’s cabin.

Ashe was stunned. “How long was I unconscious? Is my father’s funeral already over? Are those his ash—”

“It seems the potion muddled your head…” Harvey explained with a chuckle. “I used a soul secret art to preserve your father’s complete soul imprint. After you return to the Northern Realm with me, I will find a way to get a suitable new body for Uncle Lambert and bring him back to life.”

Ashe practically leaped out of bed, his head nearly hitting the low cabin ceiling.

“What? You have a way to resurrect my father? By the spirits of the dead, does the legendary divine art of reviving the dead really exist? One that can completely preserve a soul’s consciousness and memories from when they were alive? My father won’t turn into a bloodthirsty monster, will he?”

Harvey rolled his eyes. “You still don’t trust me? In the four or five years we were students together, when have I ever lied to you? My credibility was top-tier in the entire Necromancy Academy.”

Ashe pursed his lips and muttered under his breath, “When have you ever lied to me? You’ve tricked me plenty of times… You made soup with mushrooms that grew on a dead lab animal and tricked me into drinking it, telling me it was the daily soup from the cafeteria…”

Before Ashe could finish, Harvey’s fist shot out and deftly covered his mouth, stopping him from showing off his superhuman memory.

…

“So, Uncle Xilisi and Councilor Pular all agreed to be guests in your territory?”

Harvey nodded. “That’s right. I’m taking you and… Uncle Lambert’s soul imprint back first. It will also be more convenient to arrange for the Federation branches along the way to prepare the teleportation arrays and receive the main group. After all, there are too many people; it’s impossible to completely cover our tracks over such a long distance.”

He had arranged for White and Black, who had already been to the Northern Barren Lands once, to lead the main group and follow behind him, heading north along the planned route.

Ashe, however, was incredibly excited, asking one question after another. “Your territory… tsk, tsk, to think that in just seven or eight years after graduation, you’ve managed to build such a rich estate for yourself…”

“I heard from White and Black that you have close ties with the Federation of Casters. When you came here before, the various Federation branches along the way gave you the green light, and you used the continental teleportation array to reach Faros quickly, right?” He sidled closer, winking, and whispered, “Harvey, fess up… you’re not the illegitimate son of some high-level leader in the Federation, are you?”

Harvey, at the end of his rope, once again stuffed his fist into Ashe’s mouth.

Chapter 333: Traffic Accident

Harvey and Ashe had gone ahead on a Halro Merchant Guild sea vessel. About a week later, the members of the Lambert family and the Necromantic Cult, led by White and Black, finally made their belated arrival at the pioneer territories in the Northern Barren Lands.

“Uncle Xilisi, was I right?” White led the group down from the massive alchemical vehicle, walking toward the towering city gate of the territory as he introduced it familiarly. “Lord Harvey’s mage territory rivals the City of Magic, Araye, in its prosperity and advancement.”

The Necromancers behind them, carrying bags of all sizes, couldn’t stop looking around, their gazes fixed with fervent curiosity on the alchemical camel-beasts and speeding magical vehicles constantly passing through the city gate.

Councilor Pular managed to maintain his Spellcaster’s composure, staring straight ahead as he said nonchalantly, “Black mentioned to me in private that this Lord Harvey seems to have concealed his name and entered the Necromancy Academy under a forged identity to study our arts. His family background is said to be mysterious and powerful, quietly developing its strength while entrenched here in the Northern Barren Lands…”

Screech—

“Councilor, watch out!”

The sound of metal scraping against the stone-paved road suddenly came from behind. White reacted quickly, yanking Councilor Pular aside and nearly causing him to stumble and fall to the ground.

“Oh! Sorry! My apologies, sir!” A green-faced, tusked half-orc soldier slid off his Magic Motorcycle, bowing repeatedly with a look of shame. “This is my first time taking a Magic Motorcycle out on official business… I was too hasty and forgot to slow down near the city gate. Please, don’t report me to the Military Command… I… I’m almost out of discipline points for this month.”

A beast-like non-human?

Xilisi and Pular exchanged a glance, a hint of anger on their faces. “Orc slave, why isn’t your master nearby? How dare you operate such a dangerous alchemical instrument on your own? Did you steal it from a magic laboratory?”

What master? What alchemical instrument? What stolen?

The half-orc soldier was utterly confused, but he immediately caught the key words in the other’s speech—Orc slave???

“Who are you calling a slave?” The soldier shook his crisp military uniform, his eyes wide as saucers. He snorted, nostrils flaring, on the verge of erupting.

Xilisi was unafraid. He stepped forward to confront the half-orc, demanding in a low voice, “What? You wretched non-human slave, you dare to accost a Spellcaster in public? Which Lord Mage keeps such an ill-mannered creature? I must question him face-to-face!”

“Why, you mother—” The soldier nearly blurted out the street curse, but he shrewdly spotted the crowd of onlookers and remembered his dwindling discipline points. His face twitched as he forced himself to hold back.

He rolled up his sleeves, about to grab the old man who called himself a Spellcaster, muttering, “Come on! You’re coming with me to the Military Command! I’m going to report you for insulting a soldier! Let the commanders there be the judge!”

“Wait!” Two male police officers in gray uniforms with red armbands approached from the city gate, shouting to stop the unfolding farce.

The half-orc soldier glanced over, and his face instantly paled. He muttered under his breath, “Just my luck! Why are the Police Department’s traffic police patrolling the city gate…”

The police officer with the red armband took the military ID the soldier proactively handed him, his face stern. After a brief glance, he said, “Private Second Class, are you unaware of the newly issued traffic regulations? It is forbidden to ride a Magic Motorcycle in second gear or higher on the roads near the city gate!”

The soldier, his face flushed red, repeatedly agreed, but still received a freshly issued ticket from the officer with a look of despair.

“Please take your Magic Motorcycle and accompany us to the police post on the corner to pay the fine and verify your point deduction record.”

The half-orc soldier dejectedly walked over to pick up his Magic Motorcycle. As he passed Xilisi, he leaned in close to his ear and grumbled puffily, “I’m not a slave! Hmph!”

…

After the crowd of onlookers gradually dispersed, White quietly explained to the two leaders, “We’ve only just arrived; it’s best not to get into a conflict with people in these uniforms… The last time I was here, I noticed that these people are likely Lord Harvey’s mage squires. Among them are many formidable Bloodline Warriors, and they’re even equipped with special offensive magic artifacts…”

Xilisi was startled, secretly relieved that he hadn’t attacked the half-orc on the spot. He was just a high-rank Necromancer with depleted mana. Getting face-to-face with a suspected Bloodline Warrior without any casting preparation would have put him at a serious disadvantage.

Councilor Pular asked in a low voice, “How many Bloodline Warriors does Lord Harvey keep?”

White shook his head helplessly. “You probably sensed it just now. Among the soldiers coming and going and the City Guard patrolling the gate, there are many fluctuations of bloodline energy. But as for the exact number, I really don’t know…”

The fluctuations of mana and energy in this area were too complicated and dense, making it impossible to discern the true strength of the fellow who had rushed right up to them.

“This Lord Harvey’s family background… is it truly so formidable? Why have I never heard of… an ancient wizard family of this caliber entrenched in the Northern Barren Lands?”

Just then, Black, who had gone ahead to the city gate to assess the situation, hurried back. “Everyone, the person Lord Harvey sent to welcome us is waiting up ahead. Let’s go meet them!”

The group quickened their pace to the city gate, only to discover a “Giant” nearly two meters tall, dressed in a magnificent robe with a gold-threaded cloak. He stood perfectly still not far away. From beneath the cloak that shrouded his face, a pair of crimson eyes watched them intently.

“You must be the guests invited by the Lord. Welcome to the Northern Barren Lands!” The “Giant” removed the hood covering his head, revealing a startlingly strange metal skull. “I am the Lord’s chief advisor. You may simply call me Astaren.”

Councilor Pular’s feet seemed welded to the ground, and he didn’t dare take a step forward. He stammered in disbelief, “A… a sentient… al-alchemical construct?”

Xilisi was equally horrified. He supported the swaying Councilor Pular with one hand while instinctively reaching for a magic artifact in his robes with the other. They had discarded all their Living Corpses and corpse puppets—their main means of protection—before setting out, leaving them with no one to guard them.

Astaren smiled faintly. “There is no need to be so alarmed. If I recall correctly, the Lord has previously told you about the integration experiments involving soul transfer and alchemical constructs… And I, am the masterpiece His Lordship completed with his own hands.”

White and Black had at least met this peculiar chief advisor before. Although still shaken, they quickly stepped forward to ease the tension.

“Uncle Xilisi, Councilor Pular, this chief advisor is indeed Lord Harvey’s soul construct. He was once a living human Spellcaster, but a fatal accident forced him to become what he is now. The Clan Head’s future revival will also follow this method… Seeing Mr. Astaren here at least confirms that this soul experiment is mature and has an extremely high success rate.”

Astaren grunted in agreement but then added with a touch of reserve, “Allow me to correct Mr. White’s statement. It is not that the success rate is extremely high, but rather that the Lord has never failed in this experiment… Oh, and there is one more thing to clarify… In my previous life, I was not a human Spellcaster, but a Vampire.”

With that, he extended a long, metallic arm and said to the stunned group with graceful poise, “Now then, everyone, please follow me!”

Chapter 334: Guests or Settlers?

As night fell, the brightly lit Lord’s Castle hosted a welcome banquet for the first time in ages.

Harvey sat at the head of the long banquet table, rising to his feet with a silver cup inlaid with gold filigree. “Everyone, please raise your glasses with me and welcome our fellow Spellcasters from the Lambert family and the Necromantic Cult!”

The invited officials from City Hall and the Military Command all rose as requested, lifting their cups in unison to offer various words of welcome to the Necromancers seated on one side of the long table.

The members of the Lambert family and the cult had never experienced such a scene. They could only stand stiffly to return the courtesy. No sooner had they taken a sip of wine and sat down than another representative of the host came to offer a toast, forcing them to stand up and sit down repeatedly, gulping down bellyfuls of fine wine.

Black pulled a napkin over his face, letting out a slightly embarrassed burp. “Hic… forgive my rudeness, White. Lord Harvey is simply too hospitable. We certainly didn’t receive such treatment the first time we came.”

White was far more restrained in his drinking, but the knife and fork in his hands never stopped moving. Though he did his best to maintain his dining etiquette, the lemon-roasted chicken, honey-glazed meatballs, smoked venison leg, and fried pork cutlets before him were disappearing from his plate at a much faster rate than anyone else’s.

Necromancers had always been secretive and reclusive, generally avoiding close contact with other orthodox Spellcasters unless absolutely necessary, nor did they often interact with ordinary people. Furthermore, since no nobleman or wealthy merchant was willing to hire a Necromancer as a magic advisor, most of them lived a rather impoverished, ascetic life.

Their most typical difficulty was their inability, unlike other Spellcasters, to hire mortals with money and connections to build the Mage Towers that signified a Spellcaster’s esteemed status. Living Corpses were incapable of performing fine construction and masonry work under their control. The few Necromancers fortunate enough to possess a Mage Tower had managed to build one only through generations of family inheritance, and their towers were invariably located in remote areas. After all, no feudal lord or nobleman wanted a tower of necromancy looming over their city.

On top of having no income from noble stipends or offerings, they had to spend fortunes purchasing the large number of corpses required for their experiments. At the same time, they couldn’t enjoy the discounts on magic materials and magic stones provided by the Federation like other orthodox Spellcasters could. This made the magical path for these Necromancers exceptionally difficult and arduous.

Most of them subsisted on water and bread. When meditating or practicing their craft, they were usually reluctant to take mana Amplification potions or consume expensive magic stones to replenish their energy.

As for… attending a lavish banquet at the invitation of a feudal lord, that was something most of them had never experienced.

At this banquet, not only did the host, the Lord himself, show the group of Necromancers the respect they deserved, but even his officials, who appeared rather haughty, showed no disgust or contempt for them. They constantly smiled, raising their glasses and warmly inviting them to eat and drink.

Of particular note were the “Mr.”s in their smart military uniforms—among whom, to their astonishment, were two or three beast-form non-human officers. These officers were the most hospitable of all. Some even left their seats, walked around to where the Necromancers were seated, and with a hearty laugh, slung an arm around a guest they had taken a liking to, eagerly striking up a conversation while urging them to drink.

“Mage Michel, hahaha, if you want to ask about vile orc corpses, you’ve come to the right person…” Dav pressed down on the hand of a pale, slender young mage, repeatedly gesturing for him to drain his cup, leaving the light-headed mage dizzy. “Come, come, finish this cup, and I’ll tell you where to get fresh, intact vile orc corpses!”

White keenly caught the topic of the conversation next to him. He quickly put down his knife and fork, leaned over slightly, and asked politely, “Commander Dav, your River Valley Outpost… does it really encounter large groups of vile orc tribes raiding from the south?”

Dav squinted his eyes and patted his chest. “How could I deceive the Lord’s honored guests? Those fellows show up every winter like clockwork. The Forward Bastion is the front line of battle against them. After a single fight, the vile orc corpses pile up like mountains. It takes us several days just to burn and bury them…”

White froze, a sharp pain piercing his heart. He couldn’t help but mutter, “What… what a waste!”

Seeing this, Dav immediately recalled the “persuasion task” the Lord had assigned each of them before the banquet. His eyes darted about. He reached out, pulling the two regretful-looking Necromancers closer, and whispered, “Listen to me, without the Lord’s special approval, you won’t be able to get those corpses… you won’t even be qualified to go to the River Valley Outpost. However…”

Michel hurriedly pressed, “How can we get the Lord’s special approval?”

Dav winked, a grin spreading across his face. “By joining us, of course. Serve the Lord… Not only will you be able to go to the front lines yourself, but you’ll have your pick of the corpses. And there are quite a few vile orc priests… We’ve even caught some alive!”

Live research materials from a non-human Spellcaster!

White and Michel glanced at each other, seeing the desire and greed in the other’s eyes, then looked away in shame.

For a Necromancer, obtaining live experiment material of Spellcaster rank without bringing disaster upon oneself was nigh impossible. In the past, colleagues who had dared to do so were invariably subjected to extreme punishments by the Federation and the Church, or simply tied to a stake and burned.

…

Halfway through the banquet, Harvey, seated at the head of the table, took in the entire scene. Seeing that the atmosphere was just right, he knew it was his turn to reveal his true intentions.

He lightly tapped the crystal wine glass beside him with his silver fork. After a soft chime, the enthusiastic toasting that had been in full swing immediately ceased, and everyone returned to their seats.

“Everyone, today I have issued a construction order to the City Hall for the Academy of Sciences building…” Harvey smiled and scanned the room. Seeing the confused looks on everyone’s faces, he explained calmly, “Before the building is completed, I can only trouble you to stay in a guest hotel for now. I’ve had City Hall clear out an entire hotel to ensure that each of you has a private and comfortable room.”

Xilisi and Proulx, who were already slightly tipsy, were taken aback for a moment. They took the initiative to ask, “Lord, thank you for providing us with such comfortable and luxurious temporary lodging… It’s just that, we don’t quite understand. That Academy of Sciences building… what does that mean?”

They took the bait!

Harvey smiled slightly and gestured for two attendants to wheel in a large wooden blackboard and hang a huge architectural blueprint on it.

“Everyone, please look… This massive building, a full five stories high and nearly the size of two Lord’s Castles, is the Academy of Sciences.”

Harvey stood up and began to speak eloquently about the blueprint.

“Aside from the main hall on the first floor, each floor has its own functional zones: rest areas, material warehouses, laboratories, studies, a library, a dining hall, an archive, conference halls…”

In Harvey’s previous life, a steel and concrete building like this would be considered a slightly extravagant self-built home in the countryside, but in this world, its height and scale far surpassed that of a typical Mage Tower.

As the crowd looked at the drawing of the massive quadrangular complex, they couldn’t help but gasp in amazement.

Proulx asked doubtfully, “My lord, what… what does this have to do with us? With all due respect, you should be well aware that Living Corpses and corpse puppets cannot complete such a large-scale and intricate construction project… and we currently have no source of corpses to command.”

Harvey waved his hand. “Who said I invited you here as guests to have you command Living Corpses to build houses for me?”

He looked around the room, his voice sincere. “My fellow colleagues, I plan to build this building for you. It will be a Magic Science Research Institute exclusively for Necromancers. Upon completion, it will be handed over to you in its entirety for your use. And… it will be equipped with the most advanced magical experiment equipment and a sufficient, continuous supply of magic materials, all sourced through cooperation agreements signed directly with the Federation and the Alchemical Exploration Society.”

What? A magic research institute exclusively for Necromancers?!

Handed over to us to use? By the spirits of the dead, will I actually have the chance to own my own spell laboratory in my lifetime?!

This… this is dozens of times more magnificent than the private Mage Towers of those orthodox Spellcasters!

Xilisi’s eyes reddened, his body trembling uncontrollably. His lips moved as he struggled to force out a sentence, “Lord… Lord, what… what price… must we pay for this?”

Harvey said calmly, “There is no price. I simply hope that you will all stay and settle in my territory for the long term… As for whether you are willing to serve and work for me, that is entirely up to you.”

He paused, then slowly added, “Moreover, if you join my service, I can absolutely guarantee your safety… as well as the respect and treatment you deserve. The Federation and other Spellcaster organizations will never discriminate or act unjustly towards you again. As for the Church…呵呵, the heads of those Army of Judgment soldiers and Priests are still hanging in the City Hall square…”

With such sincerity, what more could be said?

The Lambert family and the Necromantic Cult had struggled for far too long. Now, even their last three high-rank mages were close to withering away. If they continued to flee and hide, they would eventually be completely eradicated under the attacks of the Church and the nobility, while the Federation and other wizard organizations would do nothing but watch.

Xilisi and Proulx exchanged a look, then decisively stood up and gave Harvey the most solemn ancient wizard’s salute. Behind them, the other Necromancers also rose, their faces filled with emotion as they bowed with a hand over their chest.

“We are willing to serve you, Lord! May your path of magic lead to ultimate truth!”

Chapter 335: Talent Recruitment

“My Lord, please allow us to go to the River Valley Outpost to help your soldiers fight the non-human enemies invading from the south!”

Barely three days after arriving in the pioneer territories, the leaders of the Lambert family and the Necromantic Cult were already growing restless. Upon hearing that Harvey’s army was battling vile orcs in the river valley over fifty kilometers away, they immediately sought Harvey out to volunteer for combat.

It was because the grand promises Harvey had made were so astonishingly generous—an entire magic research institute dedicated to Necromancers, a supply of expensive and rare experimental instruments and magical materials, and long-term protection…

Every condition Harvey proposed was enough to keep these Necromancers awake at night with excitement. At the same time, driven by a constant sense of unworthiness, they were filled with anxiety, feeling an urgent need to do something for the Lord to prove their value.

Harvey laboriously looked up from the mountain of documents piled on his desk and advised them, “You’ve only just arrived. Can’t you take a good rest? It’s winter; the bodies of those vile orcs won’t decompose so quickly. I’ve already had the Military Command arrange to collect some fresh, intact ones for you… The special operations team is also doing its best to capture some live ones for you during their daily patrols.”

Xilisi’s old face flushed, and he stammered, “We’re not just going for the corpses… It’s just that everyone is idle right now, and we feel a little ashamed.”

“Mm… Spellcasters can never stay idle, I understand.” Harvey took a sip of his hot tea. “The alchemical cybernetics to house Clan Head Lambert’s soul imprint… the territory’s Alchemy Laboratory can’t manufacture it yet. I’ve already written to the Alchemical Exploration Society to have them forge some of the parts and enchanted metals.”

He tapped his fingers on the desk, considering for a moment before promising, “In about half a month, we can begin the soul transfer experiment for Clan Head Lambert.”

Councilor Proulx was pleasantly surprised. “That’s wonderful! We thought such an incredible ritual experiment would require a great deal of preparation and planning beforehand…”

Harvey nodded, then recalled some amusing anecdotes about these Necromancers that Eye of Illusion and the Astrologer had casually mentioned over breakfast that morning. He couldn’t help but ask, “I heard that after you moved into the hotel in the Castle District… you haven’t been out at all? Is everyone not used to the cold weather in the barren lands?”

Xilisi and aProulx exchanged an awkward glance. In the end, it was Xilisi who coughed for show and stammered out an explanation, “My Lord, you know that we… aren’t exactly well-liked by ordinary commoners. It would have been fine if we had hidden our identities… but you held a welcome banquet with such great fanfare and widely publicized the purpose of the new scientific research institute… now, I’m afraid everyone here knows that this hotel is full of evil Necromancers.”

What? Harvey had never imagined their reason for self-confinement was so absurd.

“Didn’t I say it before? I will absolutely guarantee your safety… as well as the respect and fairness you deserve. These are not empty pleasantries, but a treatment you will genuinely enjoy in my territory.”

Harvey sighed, knowing it wouldn’t be easy to completely change the self-deprecating and cautious mindsets of these Necromancers in a short time. He could only rummage through the pile of documents and pull out a sheet of paper densely covered in text.

“I was originally going to reject this application. See for yourselves!”

Xilisi and Proulx quickly bowed and took the paper from Harvey. They sat up straight and leaned in together to read it carefully.

“City Hall Important Work Report and Talent Recruitment Application Project… What does this mean?”

The two quietly looked up. Seeing that Harvey had already returned to his desk and resumed reviewing documents, they wisely chose not to ask and continued reading.

Alchemy Laboratory: We wish to hire three to five Necromancers to serve as project team leaders for non-civilian research projects in the laboratory. All salary and benefits will be generous. Awaiting approval… Applicant: Chris Byrd.

Territory’s Infirmary: We plan to hire four Necromancers, preferably mid-rank Mages, to serve as teaching supervisors for the infirmary’s medical examiner and anatomy center. Salary and benefits are negotiable with the specific candidates. Awaiting approval… Applicant: Egnor Medros.

Spellcaster Academy: We plan to open a specialized course on the Necromancy school of casting and wish to hire several Necromancers for teaching positions. Remuneration is negotiable. Awaiting approval… Applicant: Durt Holden.

Industrial Department Talent Recruitment Application…

Munitions Factory Talent Recruitment Application…

Maintenance Center Talent Recruitment Application…

“Finished reading?” Harvey tapped the table and asked coolly, waking the two men from their confused thoughts. “No one in this territory will discriminate against you or treat you poorly because you are Necromancers. Among these applications I’ve received, there are some from orthodox Spellcasters, from non-human officials of the territory, and also from department officials who came from the commoner class…”

“In my territory, whether they are ordinary citizens or officials with the status of Spellcasters, everyone holds the same belief—as long as someone is a talent who can contribute to the territory, they will all be treated equally, regardless of their background or school of casting.”

He paused, then rose and walked over to the dumbfounded Xilisi and Proulx. Taking the application report from their slightly trembling hands, he said with a smile, “It will take another three or four months for the Academy of Sciences building to be completed and put into use. Since you don’t want to be idle, then consider taking up positions in these departments and institutions that are so desperate for talent…”

…

Michel, a Necromancer staying at the territory’s hotel, was on pins and needles.

It had been a full three days since he arrived in this barren territory. Apart from an exceptionally lavish and sumptuous banquet he was invited to on the first day, he had done nothing else. Like his companions who had come with him, he dared not take a single step outside the hotel.

Even Mr. Dav, the half-orc officer with whom he had a very pleasant conversation at the banquet, had been turned down with a frantic wave of his hands when he personally came to invite Michel to the “Officers’ Club” for some fun the day before.

Although the Lord had shown a rather just and tolerant attitude, this pioneer territory had quite a few Bloodline Warriors and orthodox Spellcasters. For Necromancers like them, whose reputation was about as welcome as rats in the street, it was better not to parade around in front of a crowd.

However, the hotel’s decor and furnishings were just too comfortable. Not only did each person have a private bedroom, but even the washrooms were individual. Hot, clean water gurgled from the brass-colored metal pipes, and Michel had even dared to take a bath.

Just as he was sitting at his desk, his mind wandering, a rapid thump thump came from the door.

“Michel! Get down to the lobby! Elder Xilisi and Councilor Proulx have an important announcement!”

The Necromancers living throughout the building opened their doors. With the hurried pat-pat-pat of their footsteps, they rushed downstairs to find their two leaders standing in the center of the hall, their faces flushed with excitement. They were clutching a stack of paper documents and proclaiming something.

Michel, looking puzzled, also drew closer to listen.

“Everyone, listen to me! We just had another audience with the Lord…” Xilisi brandished the documents in his hand. “The respect and fair treatment the Lord promised were not just empty pleasantries. They are absolutely real…”

“The various departments in the territory are willing to accept us, and have even created many jobs and research positions for us!”

“Look closely, everyone! The Alchemy Laboratory, the infirmary, the Industrial Department… even the Spellcaster Academy has opened a Necromancy course specifically for us! We can take up teaching positions at the academy and freely recruit apprentices!”

Chapter 336: Graduation Ceremony and Further Studies Plan

“Look, it’s Dean Astaren!” Sam stood in the crowd and nudged the classmate next to him with his elbow. “I heard he’s personally awarding us our primary education graduation certificates!”

A boy slightly shorter than Sam looked on with anticipation. “I wonder if the Lord will attend the graduation ceremony…”

“The Lord is busy with his affairs; he won’t have time to come. I hope it’s the beautiful Teacher Sophia who gives me my graduation certificate later!”

Sam shook his head and explained in a low voice, “Dream on. Haven’t you made enough of a fool of yourself in Teacher Sophia’s class? Dean Astaren will definitely be the one handing out the certificates.”

His information was always reliable, and many students believed him implicitly—after all, his guardian, Uncle Runi, was a director in the Territorial Army’s logistics department and often dealt with important figures.

What made others even more envious was that Sam’s neighbor was none other than Vaughn, a renowned “sharpshooter” and battalion commander in the Northern Army. He was a remarkable figure known throughout the entire territory. It was said that he was originally just an ordinary half-orc slave. Ever since pledging fealty to the Lord, he had not only risen rapidly to the rank of a high-ranking officer but had also personally received a bloodline blessing from the Lord, transforming into an extraordinary warrior of terrifying strength.

Although the sharpshooter battalion commander spent most of his time in the Military Barracks, Sam would seize the opportunity whenever he returned to pester him for novel stories about the army and battles. He was, one might say, Vaughn’s number one admirer.

Sam had learned from his big brother Vaughn that Dean Astaren would personally preside over the Territorial Public Academy’s graduation ceremony. It wasn’t exactly a military secret, after all.

Sure enough, the students didn’t have to wait long. Astaren, having changed into his dean’s robes, stepped up to the podium in the auditorium. The sound of his voice, like scraping metal, echoed through the school auditorium via an alchemical amplifier.

“Greetings, students. I am Astaren, the Dean of the Territorial Public Academy. Today, on behalf of Lord Harvey, I congratulate you on completing all the courses of the primary introductory education and successfully passing the assessment. You are the first official primary graduates since the academy’s restructuring!”

The moment he finished speaking, the students below erupted into a wave of excitement, clapping and cheering ceaselessly.

Astaren extended a metal finger and tapped the amplifier twice, signaling for quiet. He continued, “You were able to pass the assessment and graduate smoothly because most of you were the children of the first residents to join the territory. You laid a good foundation in the initial literacy school, putting you far ahead of the students who enrolled later. So, do not become too arrogant or complacent. After all, primary introductory education is just the beginning. There is a boundless ocean of more profound knowledge waiting for you to explore and learn!”

“However… your successful graduation is still worth celebrating. In the Lord’s words, from this day forward, you have earned the qualification to knock on the doors of truth and knowledge. You have embarked on a path completely different from your predecessors. Whether you choose to continue your studies or enter the workforce, you will reap generous rewards!”

Another burst of fervent applause and cheers erupted from the crowd.

Astaren waited reservedly for the applause to die down before pulling out a graduation certificate. He announced calmly, “Next, you must listen carefully and remember every word I say. This concerns your future prospects and your path forward, and it cannot be taken lightly.”

According to the graduation requirements of the restructured public academy, students who completed their primary introductory education and passed the assessment would have three paths to choose from freely. First, they could receive their graduation certificate, register their information at City Hall, and wait to be automatically assigned to a production department as a salaried intern on a contract basis. Upon turning sixteen, they would immediately become a permanent contract employee, with a significant increase in salary and benefits.

This was likely the best choice for the vast majority of graduates, as the second and third options were considerably more difficult.

The second option was for students who received a grade of “Pass” or better in the graduation assessment. They could apply to advance to the Intermediate Vocational Education Department. After two years of study, they would graduate and take up positions as management trainees in various production departments. A small number of outstanding students could, depending on the situation, enroll in the Advanced Management Teaching Department after completing their intermediate vocational education. These individuals could almost be said to have climbed the social ladder, destined to become the reserve talent for the territory’s future administrative echelon.

Of course, there was a final, even more difficult option that few would likely dare to hope for—to pass the Spellcaster Academy’s aptitude test, become a Spellcaster apprentice, and formally enter the Spellcaster Academy for advanced studies to become a transcendent being.

After explaining the graduates’ options in detail, Astaren added an earnest reminder, “Do not make an impulsive decision right away. Take your graduation certificates home, discuss it carefully with your parents and family, and then make your choice. Your graduate status will be kept on your household registration for a full year, which is more than enough time for you to think clearly about where your future lies.”

With that, he began to read out the graduates’ names one by one, calling them to come forward and formally receive the small red booklet that represented their proof of academic achievement from his hands.

When Sam heard his name, he immediately puffed out his chest and walked up to Astaren. Anxious and nervous, he accepted his graduation certificate from the dean’s hands and received a word of encouragement—“Congratulations on your official graduation, Student Sam.”

“Is the content inside everyone’s certificate the same?” Back in the crowd, Sam heard his classmates whispering and immediately wondered the same thing. With slightly trembling hands, he carefully opened the cover of the certificate. Inside was an exquisite sheet of thick, textured cardstock. In the top-left corner was the silhouette emblem of the Lord’s castle. A large line of text was written in the center, with his name printed below it. The moment his finger touched his name, the paper began to emit a faint white glow, looking both delicate and magical.

“Primary Introductory Education Graduation Certificate.”

“First Graduating Class of the Pioneer Territories Public Academy: Sam.”

“Assessment Grade: Excellent.”

“Dean: Astaren.”

The graduation ceremony was still underway, but the students below who had received their certificates could no longer contain themselves and began to discuss things enthusiastically.

“Kenny? Are you going to work in the Agriculture Department like your dad? I heard the Garrison Corps in the east offers higher pay than the Farm.”

“What about the Bicycle Factory? The internship is a bit longer than at other factories, but you get a discount on bicycles. I really want a bike of my own…”

“I want to try for the infirmary. The internship is tough, but the pay is great, you can learn a lot, and it’s a well-respected job.”

“Sam, what are your plans? I heard Uncle Runi wants you to go to the Construction Department,” a classmate he was on good terms with asked as he sidled up.

Sam froze for a moment. An image surfaced in his mind from a meal at Big Brother Vaughn’s house, where he had casually displayed his terrifying transcendent power—with a single rub of his hands, he had crushed an incredibly hard metal can into a pile of fine black powder.

And then there was that gleaming Magical Energy Gun, its entire body engraved with exquisite and complex patterns!

Ever since witnessing that scene, an idea that even he found somewhat absurd had taken root in Sam’s mind—he, too, wanted to become a transcendent being. He wanted to serve the Lord in the army like Big Brother Vaughn and, at an award ceremony, receive a medal of honor personally pinned on him by the Lord in front of tens of thousands of people!

He didn’t meet the qualifications to enlist, but as the Lord had said, knowledge could also bring unparalleled power!

At this thought, Sam made up his mind without a shred of hesitation.

“I’m going to sign up for the Spellcaster aptitude test!”

“I’m going to enter the Spellcaster Academy to continue my studies!”

Chapter 337: Sights and Sounds of the Outpost

The moment the enemy attack whistle sounded, the entire River Valley Forward Bastion erupted into a flurry of activity, like a boiling pot.

Michel rushed out of his barracks tent and, with a nervous expression, hurried along with the large crowd onto the bastion walls. He looked left and right, trying to find a suitable position to cast spells, only to discover that every single battlement was already occupied by soldiers holding magical weapons. There was simply no place for him.

The soldiers on rotation at the Forward Bastion were long accustomed to this scene. They needed no extra orders from their commanders; everyone knew exactly what to do next. In the trenches on the riverbank slopes outside the bastion, the engagement troops were already in ambush position.

As was the case every winter, the soldiers on the bastion walls were responsible for early warnings and observation. The instant they spotted a large force of vile orcs on the opposite side of the Icefield River, they would immediately sound the whistle. The troops responsible for holding the front line would then use the crisscrossing trenches and tunnels to rapidly reach the riverbank slopes, where they would meet the river-crossing enemy from a position of higher ground.

The white, cold mist over the frozen river had not yet completely dissipated, but a large group of dark figures could be seen faintly approaching. Dav squeezed his way to the wall, stood on his toes, and made a rough estimate. He saw over a thousand vile orcs, likely the entire fighting force of a small tribe. Had this been two or three years ago, it would have been an absolutely grueling battle. The soldiers on the riverbank outside the bastion would have had to fight and retreat, suffering casualties to slow the enemy’s advance, while the soldiers inside the outpost would have had to fire in continuous rotating shifts just to push them back.

But things were different now. After two or three years of development, the pioneer territories had undergone a heaven-and-earth-shaking transformation.

An artillery crewman uncovered a tarp, revealing a Magical-Powered Cannon that had been set up on the wall in advance. He repeatedly checked the barrel and the gun’s mechanisms, making sure they weren’t frozen by snow and ice, then began to load the ammunition according to procedure.

Seeing Dav pass by, Michel quickly grabbed him. “Commander Dav, what are my combat orders? Are there any signs of spellcasters among the enemy? Do I need to get to the outer defensive line…?”

Dav, with a rolled tobacco leaf dangling from his mouth, squinted his eyes and smiled. “Mr. Michel, you just stay on the wall and observe. Why would you want to go to the trenches outside? It’s not like you know how to use a Magical Energy Gun…”

Michel paused, stunned. Wringing his hands, he stammered, “But I’m a Spellcaster… If we encounter a vile orc priest, you’ll need me to deal with it, right? I heard they have techniques for creating Corpse Puppet Behemoths.”

An artillery Group Leader nearby overheard Michel’s concerns and leaned in with a grin. “We used to be helpless against those giant monster-things of theirs, but ever since we got this baby… hehe.” As he spoke, he patted the smooth, cast-metal barrel with sheer delight, looking as if he could never part with it.

“Anyway, just stay put here and don’t wander around. Be careful not to get hit by a stray shot from a Magical Energy Gun. After the battle, I’ll have soldiers collect some complete corpse materials for you!” Dav patted the young Necromancer on the shoulder and walked toward the other side of the wall, the tobacco leaf still in his mouth.

He left Michel behind, feeling exceptionally awkward with nothing to do.

Before long, the soldiers on watch in the sentry tower saw the enemy begin their slow crossing of the river. After more than a month of continuous, extreme cold, the already slow-moving surface of the river in the River Valley Outpost area had long since frozen solid, perfectly capable of bearing the weight of the tall, sturdy vile orcs as they walked across the ice.

The moment the soldiers on the walls could clearly make out the ferocious faces of the vile orcs on the ice, the cannons opened fire.

The blast wave kicked up the snow on the battlement below the cannon’s muzzle. The low hum vibrated through Michel, who was standing nearby, causing a dull ache in his ears. In the distance, on the wide, frozen river, a spray of icy shards and blood mist erupted into the air. A whole section of the vile orcs, who had been advancing in a loose formation, collapsed in an instant, leaving a stark, enormous splash of blood where the shell had landed.

“The other bank! There’s a big one!” the artillery crew’s spotter shouted, pointing toward the rear of the enemy’s formation. “It must be a Corpse Puppet Behemoth!”

The gunner deftly spun the handwheel, raising and adjusting the cannon’s muzzle toward the target before reloading and firing again. Hitting a single target with precision required a certain amount of experience and skill, far more than just firing at a general distance using the sighting scale.

Because of this, the next shell didn’t strike the Corpse Puppet Behemoth directly. Instead, it just grazed its side and landed behind it. But upon exploding, it released a massive number of energy beams, riddling nearly half of the target’s body with holes.

Almost at the same instant, another artillery crew fired a shell that, by a stroke of luck, scored a direct hit on the teetering Corpse Puppet Behemoth, blasting it into a pile of bloody sludge.

“What a powerful offensive magic artifact!” Michel’s mouth hung slightly open, his face a mask of shock as he stood frozen in place. He could still faintly sense the lingering fluctuations of mana that had dissipated from the muzzles of the two Magical-Powered Cannons beside him.

“Could this be a new type of alchemical artifact from the Federation of Casters… for fighting the Demon invasion?”

…

The vile orcs, halfway across the river, erupted into a commotion. They began to charge madly toward the shore, scattering and weaving with agility, making it impossible for the artillery crews to find another good opportunity to fire.

Next, it was the turn of the troops stationed on the riverbank slopes. To ensure a high hit rate, they waited patiently until the enemy had crossed the frozen river and was within fifty meters before they opened fire with a volley.

The report of the Magical Energy Guns was nowhere near as loud as that of the Magical-Powered Cannons. From the bastion wall, it was impossible to hear a thing. One could only see the vile orcs that had charged close suddenly fall in droves, as if they had been cut down by a giant, invisible scythe.

Just then, several great plumes of white mist burst from the frozen river’s surface. A few Corpse Puppet Behemoths, each as large as a small hill, broke through the ice from the riverbed and clambered onto the bank, roaring.

“Tsk… these guys only know this one trick. They must have entered the water upstream where the river isn’t frozen, then drifted down here to lie in ambush.”

Michel squinted toward the riverbank, and he finally got a clear look at these Corpse Puppet Behemoths.

“By the spirits of the dead! A stitched corpse puppet of this size… it would probably require the corpses of numerous magical creatures to stitch and create.” He leaned over a crenel of the battlement, his voice a low, envious whisper. “If only I could get my hands on one…”

Suddenly, the collar of his coat was yanked back sharply. Dav’s voice came from behind him, “Careful you don’t fall off the wall, Mr. Michel!”

Michel nodded repeatedly, then pleaded with a hint of urgency, “Commander Dav, after that large offensive magic artifact smashes the corpse puppet… would it be possible for me to collect some of the pieces of corpse, uh… for research?”

Dav grinned, a puzzled look on his face. “Oh? This stuff is worth researching?”

His eyes darted about for a moment, and he said with a wide smile, “In that case, I’ll figure out a way to get you a whole one!”

Before Michel could even react, Dav, with the tobacco roll still in his mouth, drew a long, brass-colored sword from his waist and, with a powerful stride, leaped directly from the battlement. Behind him, several other soldiers, also holding long swords, followed suit.

“Whoa! Commander Dav is taking the Bloodline Warriors to have some fun with those big guys!” a soldier remarked quietly, a teasing tone in his voice.

Chapter 338: Corpse Collecting

Seeing Dav lead a squad of Bloodline Warriors leaping from the fortress wall, Michel couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement, eager to join the battle.

But then he immediately remembered that he didn’t even have a single, ordinary refined Living Corpse at his command. His offensive Necromancy spells were limited to just two or three corrosive toxin spells, and they were area-of-effect attacks that didn’t distinguish between friend or foe, making it easy to hit his allies by mistake.

“A Necromancer without Living Corpses and corpse puppets on hand is completely unsuited for mass combat…”

Watching these well-trained soldiers wield powerful magic artifacts to unleash a crushing assault on the vile orcs crossing the river, Michel was still utterly shocked.

Another colleague, who had also received special permission to come to the River Valley Outpost, now joined him on the wall. “If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would never have believed that ordinary people could wield magic artifacts and inflict such terrifying damage on non-human enemies…”

“What is the principle behind this weapon the Lord created? I can only feel a faint fluctuation of mana in the air, but I can’t see how these so-called ‘arrows’ are fired, or how they instantly hit the enemy, piercing straight through them.”

Michel pointed to the body of a vile orc lying face-up closest to them. “Look at its head. Despite wearing a metal helmet, it was still pierced through from front to back. Even the secret repeating crossbows of the Alchemical Exploration Society probably couldn’t achieve such powerful penetration.”

Moreover, the magic artifact bows in these soldiers’ hands seemed to require no reloading and completely bypassed the process of drawing a bow and nocking an arrow. And their accuracy was terrifyingly high.

“Commander Dav said they’ve only been training for a little over two years. It’s incredible.”

Although not from feudal lord families, Spellcasters like Michel were well aware that a well-trained archer required at least five to eight years of careful instruction from a professional archery coach just to reach the standard of following commands to draw their bow for a volley on the battlefield. Even then, not everyone could achieve the skill of a sharpshooter who never missed; hitting four or five out of ten shots was already considered skilled.

But now, looking at the bodies of the slain vile orcs, almost all the wounds were concentrated in fatal areas like the head and chest. It was a testament to the terrifying combat effectiveness of this private army belonging to the Lord.

“It looks like… they really don’t need our help. No! You could say these ordinary soldiers don’t need Spellcasters to lead them into battle at all,” Michel muttered, a little deflated.

Whether it was their disciplined military conduct, their resilient will, or the immense power granted to them by their weapons, these mortals were, in a way, no different from a Mage Corps using clustered casting.

These Magical Energy Guns, which could be wielded by ordinary people… if mortals turned them against the high-and-mighty Spellcasters… Michel narrowed his eyes, not quite daring to imagine the consequences.

His colleague, who had followed him up, also leaned over the wall to watch for a moment before exclaiming in pleasant surprise, “That Commander Dav has already taken care of the Corpse Puppet Behemoth that charged the front line!”

Michel snapped back to reality and looked down. The stitched corpse puppet, as huge as a small hill, was now tightly bound limb from limb by several thick chains covered in frost and ice crystals. A longsword glowing with scorching flames was plunged deep into the side of its disproportionately small neck, pinning its head firmly to the ground.

“These Bloodline Warriors are all high-rank!”

“That’s right. And they’re extremely skilled at teamwork. Their coordination is seamless.”

The first wave of the vile orcs’ probing attack ended quickly. The riverbank was strewn with the bodies of vile orcs. Of the more than one thousand vile orc warriors who had crossed the river, only a few dozen managed to flee back to the other side in a panic, disappearing into the dense forest.

The blood flowing across the battlefield sent up a white mist from the frozen river and ground. The soldiers in the trenches along the riverbank popped their heads up and began the post-battle cleanup, searching for any vile orc captives who hadn’t died on the spot.

It’s our turn!

Michel and his colleague exchanged an excited glance and bolted for the fortress exit.

…

“Commander Dav! Commander Dav!”

The half-orc officer was squatting on the Corpse Puppet Behemoth that was pinned to the ground, his sword propped beside him. Hearing the Spellcasters shouting as they ran toward him, he couldn’t help but smirk at the soldier next to him. “Look how anxious they are. You’d think they’re afraid we’re going to eat these dead things.”

The soldier beside him frowned. “Chief, are we really giving these corpses to them to transport back to the territory? They’ll rot and stink to high heaven.”

“Their kind of Spellcaster loves to study this stuff. The Lord has spoken, so let them have at it.”

Michel and his colleague ran up, their faces alight with joy. They rushed to Dav’s side and looked down to observe the giant corpse puppet, whose size and appearance far exceeded the ordinary.

Dav grinned. “Mr. Mages, I know we promised to capture a live one for you, but who knew this thing was already dead? Once the vile orc priest hiding on the other side retreated, it just started to fall apart.”

Michel was ecstatic. “No matter! No matter! I know it’s dead… As long as we get it back to the territory, we have plenty of ways to bring it back to life!”

With that, he looked up as if waking from a dream, scanned the battlefield, and pleaded with Dav, “Commander Dav, besides this one, please don’t execute the vile orc captives who are still breathing… let us take them to the territory as well!”

His colleague chimed in at the perfect moment, “Uh… we’ll take some of the dead ones too. As long as the bodies are still intact, we’d appreciate it if you could help us transport as many as possible.”

Dav clicked his tongue. He stuffed his long-extinguished cigarette into his enormous nostrils to block the foul stench of the corpse puppet, then held up two thick fingers toward Michel and his colleague.

“Two War Beast vehicles. That’s all I can give you. No soldier is willing to ride in a vehicle hauling dead bodies.”

That would still be enough to transport nearly a hundred corpses and captives… Michel and his companion rejoiced silently. Taking advantage of the harsh winter in the Northern Barren Lands, they could build a Corpse Cave outside the Lord’s territory to properly store their hard-won Living Corpse materials.

Moreover, this Corpse Puppet Behemoth could be considered their exclusive spoil of war, a crucial subject for their future experiments and research. This opportunity to come to the River Valley Outpost, which they had fought so hard for, had yielded an incredible harvest!

Michel took a pair of thin silk gloves from his mage’s pocket and put them on. He stroked the enormous corpse puppet before him, finding it hard to pull his hands away, and couldn’t help but start dreaming… of the scientific research institute the Lord had promised exclusively to them, the Necromancers.

“The Northern Barren Lands… my lord Harvey’s pioneer territories… this is truly a paradise for Necromancers to reside in and explore the truths of magic!”

Chapter 339: Ashe’s Wish

“Harvey, isn’t there anything else I can help with during this time?” Ashe whined, sprawled languidly on the sofa.

Harvey closed the crystal screen of the Magic Brain device, frowning in confusion. “The moment you arrived, you went out exploring the wilderness with Chris and Egnor. You didn’t even have time to attend the banquet I arranged. You’ve only been back for a few days, and you’re already restless?”

Ashe pouted and said helplessly, “Chris and Mr. Egnor are very interesting, but they’re both busy with the project to rebuild my father’s body. They have no time for me at all…”

This was indeed a pressing matter, a task Harvey had personally assigned them. After all, a soul imprint stored in the Soul Extractor for too long could easily be disturbed by energy fluctuations from the Magic Net’s erosion of the real world. Harvey didn’t want any mishaps during the transfer experiment that could lead to mistrust or conflict with the necromancers he had gone to such lengths to coax into staying.

“Or you could have Astaren show you around. Apart from the magical munitions factory, there’s nowhere else you can’t go… If you’re really bored, you can visit the underground magic stone farm south of the mountain, the Forward Bastion downstream of the Icefield River, or the Garrison Corps on the east coast. I’ll arrange for someone to accompany you.”

Ashe sighed softly and mumbled, “After Michel and the others returned from the Forward Bastion, I knew it wasn’t a nice place. Those vile orcs they brought back, dead or alive, all reeked and made me sick…”

He paused, looking dejected. “I can’t teach, so I can’t tutor those talented children. I have no aptitude for magical research either, so I can only watch in the Laboratory. And as for combat ability… I still haven’t managed to inscribe a usable spell circle slot in my magical runes…”

“Harvey, you always say everyone has their own strengths and talents, but what about me? My own family saw me as a useless waste, not even worth training… And now that I’m here with you, I can’t help with anything either.”

Harvey had known from the beginning that Ashe had neither the talent nor the interest in becoming a Spellcaster or studying the path of magic. If most second-generation members of wizard families were mediocre, then Ashe could be considered a prime example of a good-for-nothing.

But he was different from other ill-behaved young nobles. He didn’t indulge in pleasure-seeking or bullying, but instead always appeared polite, amiable, and kind. He had a keen interest in poetry, art, collecting, and all sorts of interesting things completely unrelated to magic. If it weren’t for the stigma of his necromancer identity, he might have become a favorite guest among the daughters of wealthy merchants and noble ladies.

At this thought, an idea suddenly struck Harvey. He slapped his forehead and stood up with a grin. “I’ve thought of something important, something that perhaps only you, Ashe, can help me achieve… No, I should say that in the entire pioneer territories, only you can do it, and do it well.”

Ashe blinked, still mired in his despondency, and muttered in confusion, “What is it? You need my help? And only I can do it?”

Harvey walked mysteriously to a row of bookshelves against the wall, pulled out a stack of leather-bound manuscripts from a corner, and handed them to Ashe with a smile.

“I’ll keep you in suspense for now. After you’ve read these manuscripts, we can discuss how to implement this project.”

Ashe subconsciously took the thick stack of manuscripts, his expression skeptical. “Harvey, you’re a revered great lord of a fiefdom now. You haven’t kept your old academy habit of playing pranks on me, have you?”

Harvey rolled his eyes, speechless. “Go on, get out of here! I’m not that bored anymore. Go back and read the manuscripts carefully. I’m about to start my meditation, so don’t linger here and disturb me!”

…

Clutching the heavy pile of manuscripts, Ashe returned light-footedly to the guest hotel where the Lambert family was temporarily staying. At the entrance, he bumped into a cheerful-looking Michel who was just returning from outside.

“Ashe! Did you go to the castle to reminisce with Lord Harvey again?” Michel was clearly in a good mood, his tone laced with a hint of pleasure.

Ashe pouted, “Harvey asked me for a favor, and he didn’t have time to come see me, so I made the trip…”

The members of the Lambert family and the Necromantic Cult all knew about the precious bond Ashe and Harvey had formed during their time as students. Although their statuses seemed worlds apart, Harvey’s favorable treatment of Ashe was a gesture of goodwill to all the newly arrived necromancers, so no one had any complaints about Ashe’s actions.

“You? What could the Lord possibly need your help for?” Although Michel meant no mockery, his words still betrayed a serious doubt in Ashe’s abilities.

This made Ashe’s face flush.

“Hmph! Just you wait and see!”

After returning to his private room, Ashe took off his thick outer robe and eagerly pulled a mechanism in the room to light the desk lamp made of illuminating magic stone. He leaned over the desk and began to leaf through the manuscripts Harvey had given him. He didn’t stop until night fell and a hotel attendant had knocked on his door three times, politely inquiring if he wanted dinner delivered to his room. Only then did he put down the manuscripts and let out a long sigh.

“It’s… it’s indescribable,” he said, dabbing his slightly sore eyes with a handkerchief. “I’ve never read a story like this. A fallen noble lady from the south, in love with a half-orc slave from the Northern Barren Lands… It’s simply unbelievable.”

He stood up from the desk and began to pace around the room, murmuring to himself, “Can love truly possess such terrifying power? Their backgrounds and statuses are so drastically different, yet they disregarded worldly opinion and family opposition, bravely rushing toward each other with all their might. Although in the end… alas!”

Ashe sighed to himself for a while, then couldn’t resist sitting back down at the desk to reread the final scene of the story. With a somewhat indignant expression, he slammed his fist on the table. “Harvey is from the south too. When he read this story, didn’t he find it too scandalous and disapprove of its content? A human noble and a non-human slave… Dammit! This tragedy actually makes me feel sorry for their love. Why can’t lovers end up together?”

A strange thought suddenly flashed through his mind, and he shot up from his chair. “Could it be… could this heart-wrenching and deeply moving love story have actually happened here in Harvey’s territory? No! I have to ask someone about this!”

Ashe snatched his thick long robe and rushed out the door, heading straight from the guest hotel to the City Hall.

Chapter 340: Romeo and Juliet

In the dead of night, within the great City Hall, only the lights in Rainer’s Steward office remained on.

The soldier on night duty stood awkwardly at the office door, cautiously reporting, “Steward, Lord Ashe insisted on seeing you at this hour. The Lord gave him a pass for unrestricted access to all departments and institutions in the territory, so I could only…”

Rainer waved his hand to indicate it was fine, allowing the red-faced guard to retreat in relief.

He then looked at the excited Ashe and sighed. “Lord Ashe, please trust the memory of an Alchemical construct. There is absolutely no noble lady from the south named Juliet in the Lord’s territory, nor is there a half-orc slave named… Romeo.”

Ashe’s eyes widened, and he pressed on, unwilling to give up. “Impossible. You must have missed it, or perhaps you have no memory of those who have passed away in the territory. They both committed suicide for love in the end! Has no one in the territory discussed this tragedy, born from the disparity of their statuses?”

Rainer closed the workbook in his hands and said woodenly, “I remember those who have passed away with perfect clarity. Besides… since the territory was established, the information of all newlyweds has been strictly recorded. Among them are indeed examples of southerners and barren landers falling in love, but there has never been a case where a couple was unable to be together due to regional differences. The territory’s laws explicitly state that residents have absolute freedom in their choice of marriage.”

He paused, then stood and retrieved a thick register from the wall of file cabinets behind him. He precisely flipped to the marriage registration section and patiently pushed it in front of Ashe.

“Please, have a look. This is the marriage registration list for residents from the south and local barren landers. There are indeed a few marriage applications between humans and half-orcs. A typical example is the marriage of my lord Harvey’s personal guard deputy leader, Iron Head, and Ms. Daina, a barren lander. However, they were publicly married months ago. I even attended their wedding. Both families get along harmoniously, and the newlyweds are deeply in love. No unexpected tragedy occurred due to familial opposition.”

“Are there really no others?”

“None. They are all in this register.”

Ashe frowned in thought for a moment, muttering, “Could it really be just some bizarre love story someone made up?”

Rainer sighed and said softly, “Why don’t you go ask my lord Harvey himself? After all, he was the one who gave you the manuscript. He should know the whole story best.”

Ashe nodded in agreement and was about to get up and leave when Rainer quickly added, “There’s no need to disturb the Lord’s rest at this hour. It’s late.”

Ashe glanced at the all-metal Rainer with a strange expression and mumbled, “Don’t you alchemical creatures need to rest or sleep?”

Rainer froze for a moment, then clenched his fists and said woodenly, “If there is nothing particularly urgent next time, you don’t need to come looking for me so late. It’s best to just assume I am sleeping.”

…

“What? There’s no Romeo and Juliet? You made it all up?”

Harvey rolled his eyes, speechless. “What else? And you even went to City Hall in the middle of the night to have Rainer check the household registration. Have you lost your mind?”

Ashe slumped onto the sofa, dejected, and muttered, “And here I was, so moved by this profound love story that I couldn’t sleep all night, only to find out it was another one of your pranks…”

A prank? This is Shakespeare’s classic romantic tragedy!

Harvey pursed his lips. “What? You think the story I wrote is too cliché?”

“Cliché? I’d say it’s more scandalous than anything! I knew it. How could a human noble fall in love with a half-orc slave? If a story like this spread in the south, it would probably be condemned as heretical by all the nobles.”

Harvey let out a soft laugh and asked pointedly, “And what about you? After reading the story, did you also find it unacceptable and absurd?”

Ashe was speechless for a long moment before he stammered, “I wouldn’t say unacceptable… After all, the story is masterfully written. The plot is gripping and full of twists and turns. When they finally decided to defy worldly opinion and family opposition by committing suicide for love, I found my heart in turmoil for a long, long time.”

Harvey smiled to himself; this was precisely the effect he had aimed for.

By drastically modifying the story of Romeo and Juliet, using a localized adaptation to deepen the audience’s sense of immersion, it was perfect. Simply describing a moving and sincere love between a commoner and a noble wasn’t enough. He had to incorporate the themes of different backgrounds and statuses between the southerners and the barren landers. Finally, by smuggling in his own agenda and adding the Church’s obstruction as a point of escalating conflict, it was nothing short of perfect.

As the territory’s population gradually swelled, the mutual disdain between the residents from the south and the local barren landers was becoming more and more common. This was clearly visible even in the marriage market; the two groups found it difficult to integrate and coexist peacefully.

In short, it was normal for the southerners and the northerners to form their own cliques and exclude the other. Although it hadn’t yet reached the point of serious “regional discrimination” or violent conflict, Harvey was on guard against such a trend.

If he could use a fictional story to widely disseminate and reshape the public’s views, easing the antagonism and conflict between the two sides, while at the same time firmly establishing the Church as the sole villain in the minds of the people, it would be a propaganda method that killed two birds with one stone.

“Let’s put aside the story’s authenticity and plausibility for a moment. Ashe, I know you’ve always had a keen interest in theatrical performance. Are you interested in adapting this story into a play, forming a local theater troupe, and holding public performances in my territory?”

Ashe froze, staring at Harvey in disbelief. After confirming that he wasn’t joking, he leaped to his feet in excitement. “Harvey, are you finally taking an interest in these refined arts? Of course, I’m willing!”

Art collection and appreciation, opera and dance, and theatrical performance had always been Ashe’s greatest passions. After leaving his family’s ancestral home in Da’ers, he had thought he would spend the rest of his life in a miserable state of constant exile and hiding, never having the chance to engage with these things again. He could only silently bring along his most beloved art pieces and tuck this passion away in his heart, savoring it from time to time.

“Don’t get too excited just yet. This story is just a rough draft I wrote offhand, and it’s not some high-brow piece for nobles and wealthy merchants to enjoy,” Harvey cautioned. “My requirements are not high. I just need the local populace to understand it, and for the story to be performed smoothly and clearly.”

He paused, scratching his head. “Uh… I think you should first find some people in the territory who have past experience with theatrical performance or stage acting. There should be no shortage of such people among the refugees from the south. I will specially approve a budget for you to form the troupe. You can take your time to select suitable candidates.”

Ashe grinned. “There’s a budget for the troupe? I thought you’d make me pay for it myself. How times have changed, Harvey. You used to be a notorious cheapskate!”

Chapter 341: A Candidate for the Male Lead

In the Academy District of the pioneer territories, a massive construction site on a high slope, just two streets away from the Territorial Public Academy, was the location for the Magic Science Research Institute, specially approved by Harvey.

Hundreds of construction workers, dressed in thick cotton work clothes and wearing leather safety helmets coated with rubber fruit extract, were working with fiery enthusiasm amidst the flurrying light snow.

The foundation for the massive complex had already been completed ahead of schedule by alchemical beasts digging day and night. If not for these huge creatures with bodies of steel, digging through the rock-hard frozen earth in the dead of winter by manpower alone would have been an almost impossible task.

Once the first floor of the building was finished, the ground and high-altitude work were divided between two separate crews as per regulations. Those working on the second floor, three to four meters up, had to strictly follow safety procedures, with two safety ropes, one long and one short, fastened around their waists.

Haru, the director of the Construction Department, stood inside a temporary workshed on-site. A stack of itemized construction blueprints was spread across the wooden table. He frowned and said to his subordinate, “The snow will likely get heavier in the next few days. Send out a notice for the high-altitude work team to stop. We’ll finish the ground-level work first.”

The subordinate nodded and leaned in to whisper, “Let them finish up for the day before they knock off… You know, a lot of them are on temporary work contracts. The Winter Festival is coming up, and everyone wants to earn a little more to enjoy the holiday.”

Haru poked his head out and looked at the delicate snowflakes drifting from the sky. He couldn’t help but sigh, compromising, “Alright, just for today. Tell the safety team to keep a closer watch.”

…

With the extinguished butt of a cigarette dangling from his lips and a thick safety rope tied around his waist, Balun was straddling the steel rebar of a main beam two and a half stories high. He was deftly getting on with his assigned task—according to the construction plans, copper plumbing pipes needed to be embedded within the walls of each floor before the wall cavities were filled with concrete.

“Hey! Balun!” a coworker from the same high-altitude team called out loudly from another stone beam. “Toss me a cigarette! Good heavens, it’s so cold today, I feel like my head’s about to freeze to my safety helmet.”

Cold? Balun scratched his head. Why did he feel a little sweaty under his vest?

He gave his coworker a simple and honest smile, rummaged around in the tool pouch at his waist, and pulled out a hand-rolled cigarette, holding it up. “Come down from the beam first. I’ll toss it to you when you’re below me.”

“What a hassle, can’t you just throw it over?” the coworker urged, nudging his safety helmet. “No need to go to all that trouble. Hurry up and toss it!”

Balun shook his head helplessly, squinted to take aim, and lightly tossed the cigarette toward the man. But as luck would have it, a sharp, cold wind gusted past. The cigarette, which had been flying straight for his coworker, spun in mid-air and landed with a plap on the end of the opposite stone beam, rolling a few times before getting stuck in a crevice between the steel rebars.

“Dammit! Didn’t I tell you to aim before you threw? Are you cross-eyed?” the coworker cursed with a laugh. He stretched his body out, extending his hand as far as he could, but found that he was still short of reaching it. The length of his safety rope limited his range of movement on the beam.

“Forget it. I have a new pack in the workshed. We can get it after we’re done,” Balun advised.

The coworker rubbed his face, annoyed. “A slow remedy won’t solve my current problem. I can’t wait that long…” As he spoke, he reached for his lower back, preparing to unfasten the buckle of his safety belt.

Seeing this, Balun quickly shouted, “Hey! Hey! Don’t! You’re not allowed to unhook your safety rope during high-altitude work! What if the patrol team sees you? Don’t you want a job anymore?”

The coworker glanced around and said dismissively, “In this cold, they’re too lazy to climb up here for a safety check. They’re probably huddled around the fire in the workshed. Don’t worry!”

He undid the safety buckle, pushed himself up with both hands, and stood up unsteadily on the stone beam. He took two nimble steps forward, bent down, and plucked the snow-and-dust-covered cigarette from the rebar crevice. He stuck it in his mouth and shot Balun a triumphant grin.

But just as he prepared to turn back, whether because of the ice and snow on the beam or because he got carried away and lost his balance, his foot suddenly slipped and he went tumbling off.

Fortunately, the safety belt around his waist saved him at the critical moment. A protruding steel rebar caught the belt, leaving him dangling in mid-air.

“Shit! Shit!” The cigarette fell from the coworker’s mouth in fright. He hung suspended in the air, not daring to struggle in the slightest. At two and a half stories, the fall was nearly eight meters, and the floor below was piled with sharp-edged stones for indoor paving. A fall from here would leave him crippled, if not dead.

Balun was so scared his soul nearly flew out of his body. He yelled, “Don’t move! Whatever you do, don’t move! The safety belt is only halfway caught! That rebar can’t take your full weight!”

Seeing his coworker in mortal danger, Balun cast all safety regulations aside. He quickly unhooked the safety rope from his waist, took off his thick work coat, and flung it forward. The coat landed flat on the construction scaffolding nearly two meters from the beam—he was planning to use the scaffolding as a springboard to leap directly to the beam where his coworker was. With the coat as a cushion, at least he wouldn’t slip on the snow when he landed.

The commotion up high had already attracted the attention of the ground construction team. Seeing the worker dangling precariously from the rebar, they shouted in alarm and began running up the stairs to help.

But the steel rebar bearing the man’s full weight clearly wouldn’t hold until help arrived. It had already bent to a frightening angle, and the safety belt was about to slide off.

Balun couldn’t wait any longer. Taking a deep breath, he kicked off the stone beam and leaped, landing with a thud on the scaffolding. He stood firmly on the coat cushioning his feet, and without a moment’s hesitation, took another great leap to the opposite beam.

His sense of balance was clearly far better than his coworker’s. Though the beam was slippery, he managed to stand his ground. He walked quickly across it like a circus tightrope walker until he was above where his coworker hung. Then, clamping his legs firmly around the beam, he sat down, bent over, and reached for the man hanging motionless in mid-air.

“Quick! Grab my hand!”

The coworker was so scared he didn’t dare blink, even as cold sweat trickled down to his eyelids. He gritted his teeth and replied, “I can’t! I can’t reach your hand!”

As he spoke, the rebar bent a little further, and the safety belt slowly slipped along with it. Seeing this, Balun could only grit his teeth, wrap his legs tightly around the beam, and perform an inverted hang, leaving himself upside down in the air. He reached out and grabbed his coworker’s belt.

Now there were two people hanging from the beam…

But Balun’s strong, sinewy legs seemed much sturdier than the thin steel rebar. With a great shout, he grabbed his coworker with one hand and, using only his core strength, performed an inverted pull-up, hauling both himself and the other man back into a sitting position on the beam.

A wave of astonished gasps erupted from the crowd below. “Damn, that guy’s a monster of strength!”

The safety inspection team hurried to the base of the structure and bellowed up at the two men, “Get your safety ropes on immediately, then get your asses down here!”

…

It was over! He was going to lose this temporary job he had worked so hard to get…

Balun’s heart tightened. He slowly climbed down from above, his face flushed red as he stood waiting for a scolding, silently praying they wouldn’t dock his pay for the day.

Suddenly, a tall, pale-skinned young man with beautiful short blond hair pushed through the crowd, leading a group of guards to the center. He looked around until his gaze locked onto Balun.

“Balun, twenty-two years old, a half-orc of one-quarter blood from the barren lands. That’s you, right?”

Balun froze, utterly bewildered. “That’s me…”

The blond man clapped his hands happily and smiled. “Excellent, excellent! You have the look and spirit of the male lead I had in mind!”

Chapter 342: The Show Begins

Less than a month after signing the exclusive contract for the Specific Remedy with Harvey, the Dragonstone Merchant Guild braved the winter snows to visit the pioneer territories once again.

This time, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Vice-President Santos was a young man in fine clothes with a somewhat unfamiliar face.

“Lord, allow me to introduce you to the current President of the Dragonstone Merchant Guild, Mr. Felik Salas.” Santos’s round, chubby face was wreathed in smiles.

Oh? Salas? A young man with the same surname as the Federation’s First Chief. How interesting.

Harvey raised an eyebrow. Sitting in the seat of honor in the reception hall, he gave a slight nod in greeting. “Welcome to the Northern Barren Lands, President Salas.”

The young president of the merchant guild elegantly placed a hand on his chest and bowed. “My esteemed Lord, please, just call me Felik.”

Harvey waved a hand, gesturing for his guests to sit before they talked.

“Why have you come to visit again so soon? If I recall, after we signed the contract last time, we agreed that the official supply of the Specific Remedy would begin after the start of spring… and you took quite a few samples with you, didn’t you?”

Santos beamed. “Indeed. We took that batch of samples and conducted a trial run in Oland, where the Church’s influence is weak. The response was excellent… Following our previous discussion, the potions sold to commoners were packaged in ordinary, cloudy glass bottles, while those for wealthy merchants and nobles were contained in exquisite, carved silver and crystal bottles. Though the potion’s composition and efficacy were identical, the price ranged from five silver coins to one gold pound.”

Harvey nodded in understanding, a smile on his face. “Good. We absolutely will not adulterate or water down the potion. If you want more profit, you simply need to put some effort into the packaging.”

He paused, then continued, “Since the market response is good, I will immediately arrange the preliminary preparations for mass production. For something like this, you only needed to send a messenger to inform me. There was no need to personally make a trip in such harsh, freezing weather.”

Santos froze for a moment and let out a couple of awkward laughs, his gaze shifting to the young President, Felik.

Felik, however, was quite composed and stated his purpose directly. “Lord, we’ve come this time not only to inform you of the market’s response to the potion sales but also with an idea for a deeper cooperation that we wished to discuss with you in person.”

“After the Specific Remedy is mass-produced in your pioneer territories, getting it to the nations of the south to roll out sales completely would be rather uneconomical in terms of both time and transportation costs…”

Harvey pursed his lips. He had a good idea of what they were really after, but he didn’t interrupt the man’s eloquent speech.

Felik paused, then continued, “Therefore, we would like to request that you set up the potion’s production workshop in the Barkley Duchy, in the center of the continent. This way, whether it’s by land to the eastern and western realms or south through Faros by sea, we can ensure the smooth distribution of the potion, and it would also greatly save on labor and time for transportation.”

The young President was clearly a master orator skilled in business negotiations. Coming here in person with his identity revealed, he was naturally confident he could persuade Harvey, so his speech and demeanor were quite self-assured.

His only miscalculation was probably his complete ignorance of the ace Harvey held up his sleeve: the Spellcaster Forum for information exchange. Not to mention the dozens of Magic Net teleportation arrays capable of instantly transporting large quantities of goods that were set up in the underground Laboratory and magical munitions factory beneath his feet.

“That is indeed a very sound suggestion… Hmm, I will give it some serious thought.” Harvey gave a noncommittal smile, then immediately changed the subject. “Since you’re here, why not stay for a few days? The Winter Festival is approaching, and I’d like to invite you both to watch a rather unique rugby match here in the Northern Barren Lands, as well as a one-of-a-kind theatrical performance…”

…

The premiere of the new play, now renamed “Northern Romance,” was scheduled for a weekend before the Winter Festival, right after the winter rugby league finals.

Though it was just noon, the residents of the territory had already swarmed the area outside the Sports Field. After rugby had caught on and become popular in the territory, any team registered with City Hall could enter the field to play formal matches against other teams. The league was divided into four rounds corresponding to the four seasons, and the winning team of each season would be personally commended by Harvey and receive a handsome cash prize.

Compared to the explosive popularity of rugby, the theatrical performance, which had been advertised for half a month, was receiving a rather cold shoulder.

It wasn’t that City Hall hadn’t put effort into promoting it for the theater troupe; it was simply that the people of the pioneer territories came from the bottom rungs of society and very few had ever been exposed to a high art form like theater. In comparison, they much preferred the street performances put on spontaneously by other residents at festival markets and fairs—things like tumbling, cantrips, and comedic clowns.

Taking into account the people’s unfamiliarity with theater, Harvey and Ashe discussed it and decided that the first performance would be free to watch. The venue would be the vast Sports Field, where a high, temporary stage would be erected with alchemical amplifiers set up around it to ensure the actors’ lines could be clearly heard by the audience in the spectator stands.

In addition, Harvey had specifically issued quotas to every department in the territory. All theater tickets had to be distributed to their employees, encouraging them to stay and enjoy the play after the rugby match.

As the lord, Harvey naturally sat in the exclusive spectator stand with the best viewing angle. Not only did it directly face the temporary stage, but it was also enclosed on three sides with a canvas roof. The floor was covered with thick carpets, and heated barrels had been placed under the soft, spacious leather seats in advance to ensure the frail Lord wouldn’t catch a cold from the wind after watching the open-air play.

The President and Vice-President of the Dragonstone Merchant Guild, whom he had personally invited to stay for a few days, had the honor of sitting right next to him in the luxurious, enclosed stand. The other officials, big and small, were seated around them according to their rank.

Even though he was on his own turf, security was not overlooked in the slightest. Rows of Defense Force soldiers stood around the exclusive stand, while the inner circle was managed by the lord’s personal guard, led by Tommy.

Around three in the afternoon, the final, decisive match of the passionate winter rugby league concluded amidst the earth-shattering cheers of the populace.

After the Police Department’s “Iron Shield Squad” was unexpectedly eliminated by the Garrison Corps’ “Harvest Squad,” the winter final became a direct internal confrontation between the Northern Army’s team and the Garrison Corps’ team. Although the outcome seemed rather predictable, Harvey still watched the entire game with great interest, not letting his attention wander for a moment. After all, this kind of military “derby” was a rare sight.

After the award ceremony, the crowd remained in the spectator stands, not yet dispersing. For people in a territory severely lacking in entertainment, the novelty of a free play was worth wasting half a public holiday afternoon on.

“My Lord, I wonder what play your territory’s theater troupe will be performing? Could it possibly be more captivating than that blood-pumping competitive match?” The young President Felik had been completely engrossed by the game. Men were always fascinated by such intense physical contests.

Harvey chuckled softly and said faintly, “To be honest, I don’t know. From the script’s creation to the casting of actors, all the way to the rehearsals, I haven’t been involved in the slightest. But, the unknown always holds more mystery and anticipation, doesn’t it…”

Before long, the temporary stage was set up. To the sound of spontaneous applause from the crowd, the actors ascended the stage one by one.

Chapter 343: An Unexpected Reaction

The temporary stage, hastily erected in less than half an hour, was incredibly simple. To accommodate the audience seated on all four sides of the Sports Field, it didn’t even have the most basic of stage curtains. There was only a small tent below the stage serving as a preparation room for the actors before they went on.

Most of these actors, hastily assembled by Ashe just a month ago, were performing on stage for the first time. The few among them with any performance experience had merely done acrobatics in some rural circuses in the south.

Ashe himself, on the other hand, was perfectly at ease. Dressed in a new black formal suit, he was the first to take the stage as the play’s narrator. Standing by an alchemical amplifier in the corner, he recited the play’s opening lines with flourish and emotion.

“Our story takes place in a frontier territory of a southern kingdom. There, the Lord, a Baron, has a beautiful, intelligent, kind, and brave daughter. This noble lady adores riding and hunting, often venturing into the mountain forests with her attendants…”

As the narration began, the female lead walked onto the stage, followed by several supporting actors playing attendants, who all drew their bows and nocked arrows to simulate a noble hunt.

After being adapted by Harvey and Ashe, the story became very simple—during a hunt, the beautiful young noble lady was unexpectedly attacked by a terrifying tundra giant bear, thrown from her horse, and fell from a cliff. She was rescued by a kind half-orc who lived in seclusion in the border mountains. He took meticulous care of her, and after her injuries healed, he sent her back to her family’s territory.

During her recovery, however, the noble lady gradually developed feelings for the brave and kind half-orc. After returning to her family, she was forced into an arranged engagement by her elders. Yearning for freedom and unwilling to submit, she chose to run away again to find the one she considered her true love. But who would have thought that the nobles, claiming she had brought shame upon the family, would join forces with the Church to dispatch a squad to stop the two from eloping?

In their flight, the half-orc tragically sacrificed himself to protect the lady. The noble lady, however, was saved by a passing, esteemed Spellcaster. After killing all the pursuers to avenge the half-orc, the lady resolutely decided to follow the Mage to the Northern Realm to live in seclusion, never again to return to the homeland that had brought her such heartbreak.

The entire story was simple and easy to understand. As per Ashe’s request, the plot had been changed from Harvey’s “original draft,” which had a tragic ending where both the noble lady and the half-orc commit suicide for love. In Ashe’s words—a deeper tragedy is when two people who love each other are separated by death, never to meet again in this lifetime.

The Radiant Church, portrayed as the villains in the play, and the mysterious Spellcaster who only appeared in the final act, formed a stark contrast through the story’s dramatic buildup.

Although the actors had been assembled at the last minute, under Ashe’s professional coaching and training, the entire performance was not the mess of errors Harvey had imagined. There were only a few instances of supporting actors forgetting their lines or missing their cues, but these were perfectly concealed by the narrator’s guidance.

The most pleasant surprise was Balun, the half-orc who had been pushed into playing the male lead. Not only did he memorize his lines quickly and solidly, but after a bit of nervousness that made his movements slightly stiff at the beginning, his performance actually got better and better. He didn’t make a single obvious mistake and even managed to cover for the female lead’s lapse with brilliant improvisation when she nervously forgot her lines.

“My beloved, Juliet, run! Flee this cage-like place! May you find happiness, and more importantly, may you find freedom…”

When the half-orc male lead, played by Balun, was tragically killed saving the heroine, the audience in the spectator stands, disregarding the fact that their Lord was also watching, shot to their feet. They furiously shook their fists and roared at the actors on stage playing the villains from the Church and the nobility.

Then, the mysterious Spellcaster appeared, helped the noble lady annihilate all the villains, and avenged the half-orc. An almost tsunami-like roar of approval erupted from the Sports Field, making the actor playing the Spellcaster so nervous he nearly forgot his lines.

…

Crack!

Iron Head, who was on leave from the Lord’s personal guard, was also in the spectator stands with his wife, watching the play. At this moment, his eyes were bloodshot as he sat bolt upright, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth.

“Damn those nobles! Damn the Church! They were truly in love, so why did they have to stand in their way? Why did they have to murder them?”

His wife Daina, her belly already showing a slight swell, saw her husband’s already coarse, beastly face flush crimson. She quickly patted his broad back to soothe him. “Darling, it’s just a play. Please, calm down, okay?”

The performance on the temporary stage concluded. Led by Ashe, all the actors returned to the stage, bowing deeply to the audience on all four sides. The audience, in turn, all stood to give them even more enthusiastic applause… though it was mixed with a considerable amount of curses and angry shouts, all directed at the few actors who had played the villains from the Church and nobility. They were so frightened they kept retreating into the crowd of actors, not daring to show their faces.

When the bowing actors turned towards the section where Iron Head and his wife were sitting, Iron Head shot to his feet. Clenching his fists and muttering, he started to walk towards the stage, which scared Daina so much that she immediately grabbed his large ear and admonished him.

“What are you doing? Are you going to beat up the actors? Look closely, they aren’t real Church personnel or southern nobles… You big dummy!”

With his wife holding him by the ear, Iron Head was brought to his senses and quickly reined in his emotions, but he still couldn’t help but curse loudly, “How hateful! It’s just too hateful!”

Many of the residents from the barren lands around them heard him and voiced their agreement. Having lived alongside half-orcs for years, they clearly lacked the southerners’ prejudice and discrimination against them. Watching the play had filled them with indignation, and they now shared a common hatred for the enemy.

Compared to the residents’ furious reaction to the play, Harvey, the guests from the Dragonstone Merchant Guild, and others in the exclusive spectator stands were much more composed.

“To think the actor playing Romeo is actually a half-orc. I never imagined they could learn to perform in a play and even recite lines so fluently…” Vice-President Santos clucked in admiration.

President Felix offered a more balanced critique: “Hm, the only flaw is that they haven’t had long-term, professional drama training. Their expressions and line delivery are a bit stiff.”

Harvey explained with a chuckle, “These people were all found at the last minute. The one playing Juliet is the only one with any acting experience, and even that is limited. As for the others, hehe… they’re just ordinary residents trying to make a living with temporary work.”

If a performance this clumsy were to be staged in one of the high-end theaters in the south, which only nobles and wealthy merchants could attend, it would naturally be met with a chorus of boos and disdain. But here in the pioneer territories, a land of common folk from the barren lands, it was a rare and novel form of entertainment.

Felix chose his words carefully before speaking. “The script, however, is quite brilliant. The plot is absolutely gripping… It’s just that, if you’ll forgive my bluntness, a noblewoman falling in love with a lowly non-human… is rather scandalous.”

Harvey let out a soft laugh and said lightly, “What’s the big deal? Could it possibly be more heretical than me hanging a Priest of the Radiant Church on a stake? This is the barren lands… President Felix.”

Upon hearing this, a chill went down the spines of everyone from the Dragonstone Merchant Guild. They immediately sat up straight and fell silent.

Chapter 344: A Love Kindled by the Stage

Escorted by a welcoming crowd of spectators, Ashe led the theater troupe to the foot of Lord Harvey’s exclusive grandstand, bowing in reverence to the territory’s supreme ruler.

Harvey rose with a warm smile, standing on the high platform to offer words of encouragement to the actors.

The Lord’s personal praise instantly electrified the atmosphere.

The audience chanted the names of the male and female leads, while the supporting cast, egged on by the crowd, playfully pushed the two protagonists together, coaxing them into an off-stage embrace.

This was met with another wave of unceasing applause and cheers, punctuated by a smattering of playful whistles.

Ashe grinned. “My Lord, you gave me less than a month, but I trust this fine play was to your satisfaction?”

Harvey burst out laughing. He leaned down to his friend, understanding his intent perfectly. “As if I don’t know what you’re up to. Go on, what reward are you trying to get for these actors? But let’s be clear, I’ve already paid their salaries in advance, and strictly according to the City Hall’s established pay scale. This can only be an additional reward.”

Ashe turned to look at the actors behind him, who were still buzzing with excitement from the performance’s success and the glowing reviews. After a moment’s thought, he said with determination, “I want a theater! A real, proper theater with a curtained stage and tiered seating for the audience… so that these temporary performers, who currently lack stable employment, can have formal contracts with a repertory theater.”

Harvey narrowed his eyes and nodded. “I’ll grant you half of that for now. We’ll discuss the details later.”

At present, the Construction Department’s entire workforce and all its resources were committed to building the Academy of Sciences. If Harvey were to approve the construction of a theater on top of that, Minister Haru would likely work himself to death.

“I’ll temporarily allocate the public academy’s grand auditorium for your troupe to use for rehearsals. Subsequent performances will be ticketed, providing a legitimate source of income for the territory’s newly-formed theater troupe. As for the official procedures to establish the troupe, you can discuss those with Rainer… Are you satisfied with that?”

Ashe’s face lit up with joy. “Of course! I’m very satisfied! I’d rather have a theater than some independent magic laboratory any day!”

…

Balun bade farewell to his colleagues in the temporary theater troupe. After changing out of his clean, new costume, he picked up his worn fur shortcoat, draped it over his shoulder, and slowly walked out of the school auditorium’s rehearsal room.

Three days had passed since their debut performance at the Sports Field, but when Balun was alone, the deafening roar of the audience’s cheers and praise still echoed in his mind.

He also recalled the praise from Mr. Lambert, the troupe’s director: “You are the most naturally talented half-orc I’ve ever seen in theater.”

Whenever he thought of this, Balun couldn’t help but feel a secret delight. It seemed all the recognition and praise he had received in his entire life had only come after arriving in the pioneer territories.

When he attended the Literacy School and earned his literacy certificate with excellent grades, his teacher had praised him for his diligence and good memory.

Having not been in the pioneer territories for very long, he wasn’t yet eligible for a permanent work contract. But no matter the temporary job—be it at the Farm, a construction site, or a factory workshop—he always earned praise from the foremen for his hard work and quick wits.

“Following the advice of the kinsmen who fled my tribe, making the arduous journey here from the Icefields… it was the best decision I’ve ever made in my life!” Balun felt full of hope for the future. As long as he kept working hard, life would only get better.

As he left the academy, he ran into many residents who recognized him. They all smiled and greeted him, fondly calling him “Mr. Romeo,” which made Balun feel both shy and proud.

Suddenly, the crisp ring of a bicycle bell sounded from behind. He stopped and turned.

He found it was “Ms. Juliet”—Ms. Natalie Mills, the actress who played the female lead in Northern Romance.

“Hi, Balun,” Natalie greeted him naturally. “You were rehearsing at the theater all day? I thought Mr. Lambert only scheduled you for a half-day’s practice.”

Balun answered honestly, “Yes. I know my lines, but I keep getting nervous and messing up my blocking, so I need to run scenes with the others more…”

He paused, then added a little sheepishly, “Besides, it’s been too cold lately, so the construction sites have shut down. I don’t have any other temp work, and since the theater is paying me a decent salary, I figured I might as well get some extra practice in.”

Although Ms. Natalie was originally from the south, her family had moved to the territory some time ago. With both her parents alive and holding stable work contracts, her family was considered upper-middle class.

The new model of ladies’ lightweight bicycle she was pushing was a testament to her high standard of living and comfortable family situation. It was clear she was also well-educated and well-read.

Natalie had been a part-time teacher at the public academy. If not for her passion for theater, which led her to volunteer for a role with Mr. Lambert, she would have likely secured a full-time teaching contract by now.

This thought made Balun feel rather inadequate. Whether on stage or in real life, there was a vast difference in status between him and this beautiful, intelligent woman.

Ms. Juliet herself, however, didn’t seem to mind the difference in their stations at all. Pushing her bicycle to Balun’s side, she naturally reached out to brush the snow from his shoulder. “You don’t need to be so hard on yourself,” she said with a gentle smile. “Sometimes, a proper rest can actually improve your performance and ease your nerves.”

Balun nodded, and just as he was about to speak, a group of students fresh out of school walked by and called out loudly to them.

“Ah! It’s Mr. Romeo and Ms. Juliet! Oh my gosh!”

“Ms. Juliet! You look just as beautiful as you did on stage!”

“Mr. Romeo! You’re… you’re so tall!”

Natalie gave the students an approachable smile and a nod, then patiently answered their questions about the play’s plot. Her ease made Balun, standing frozen at her side, seem even more stiff and awkward.

One of the bolder students suddenly laughed. “In the final scene, after Mr. Romeo’s tragic death, we were all heartbroken for the longest time… It’s such a relief to see you two together and well.”

With that, the students all broke into genuine smiles and waved their goodbyes as they departed.

These words, however, instantly cast an awkward yet intimate spell over the pair. Even the usually composed Natalie found her cheeks flushing a faint red.

Balun instinctively lowered his head, fiddling with a torn corner of his coat, unsure of what to say.

It was Natalie who recovered first. Clearing her throat, she said softly, “My parents came to see the performance that day… and, well… they… they’d like to invite you to our house for dinner. Would that be alright?”

“Huh? In… invite me?” Balun looked up, stunned, the words not yet sinking in.

As his rough, broad palm brushed against her soft, slender fingers, Natalie pushed the bicycle’s handlebars into his grasp. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she said with a bright smile. “Come on, let’s go! It’s not a short walk to my house, so I can teach you how to ride a bike along the way!”

Chapter 345: The Resurrection Experiment

After nearly a month and a half, Harvey, with the help of the two “Men in the Mirror” from the Alchemical Exploration Society, finally finished casting and assembling the alchemical cybernetics that would house Clan Head Lambert.

Normally, a soul transfer experiment for a dying or living person wouldn’t require such a long wait, nor the effort to specially craft a custom alchemical vessel.

But Clan Head Lambert’s situation was rather unique. Based on the problem Harvey and the Mind Devil precisely perceived while extracting his soul and life essence… it seemed that when the Clan Head fell into a deep slumber due to the failed ritual, he had become permanently fixed in a state of demi-lich transformation.

This was the main reason Harvey insisted on bringing the Clan Head’s soul imprint back to his domain in the barren lands for the transfer. If he had hastily teleported the alchemical cybernetics to the islands of the Gloomy Sea and performed the experiment in the usual manner, the man’s fragile soul imprint would likely have shattered and dissipated completely.

As promised, when it was time for the soul transfer, Harvey invited Elder Xilisi of the Lambert family and Councilor Proulx of the Necromantic Cult to his laboratory beneath the castle. And, of course… Ashe, Clan Head Lambert’s only son, had to be present as well.

“Lord, the Clan Head… the problems from the failed ritual, will they affect the upcoming transfer experiment?”

Harvey shook his head and analyzed cautiously, “I’ve already taken this into account. This runic cybernetic body, personally crafted by the Chief Alchemist of the Esoteric Society, is inscribed with a triple spell matrix to solidify mental energy. It should be able to mend Clan Head Lambert’s damaged mental energy and soul imprint to the greatest possible extent.”

He paused, picked up an exquisite polyhedral metal core from the workbench, and patiently explained, “This is a mana synchronizer calibrated by a Grand Druid from the Golden Forest. It’s meant to neutralize the problem of the damaged soul imprint being unable to withstand a high-frequency mana transfer for a short period after the transfer.”

Everything was ready. All that remained was for Harvey, at the precise moment the soul was transferred into the specialized alchemical cybernetics, to take the core of life essence given to him by Mr. Mind Devil and accurately merge it with Clan Head Lambert’s soul imprint, thereby activating his consciousness and humanity.

“Let us begin…” Harvey instructed everyone solemnly. “The entire transfer experiment will be under the full authority of myself, Chris, and Astaren. Everyone else, please remain silent.”

…

Arturo Lambert felt as if he were waking from an impossibly long, hazy dream.

His entire being felt like it had just been pulled from the depths of the sea; while his senses and thoughts were gradually clearing, his body gave no response whatsoever.

His vision was blurry. He tried to make a sound, to say something, but found that the familiar sound of his own voice seemed to only echo in his mind, completely unable to reach the outside world.

It was as if someone had suddenly severed a connection, and Arturo felt himself rising rapidly…

Splash!

His soul finally broke the “surface”!

Opening his eyes, the first thing he saw were light-emitting magic stones, so bright they were almost blinding, set neatly and densely into the ceiling of some building.

Arturo squinted instinctively. His body was still numb.

“Father…”

“Speaker! Speaker!”

“Clan Head?”

A multitude of voices calling out to him flooded his ears in layers, causing a strange, unsettling, and slightly piercing ache in his mind.

Vaguely, it felt as though someone had cut another connection.

It was his mana. Someone had severed his mana connection to the Magic Net, something that hadn’t been broken since he first learned meditation…

But he was powerless to stop it. He could only “watch” helplessly as all the mana in his body poured out and then gradually dried up. An unprecedented craving and sense of dejection nearly drove him to lose his mind.

A gentle pressure on his shoulder. It took Arturo a long moment to realize that he had regained some sensation, though it was extremely sluggish.

He tried to speak again.

“I… what… what happened to me?”

Xilisi and Proulx exchanged a look, overjoyed but hesitant to rush to the workbench. They still remembered Harvey’s strict order not to approach without permission.

Ashe, however, couldn’t hold back. He walked forward on his own and, looking down, asked in a trembling voice, “Father, how do you feel now?”

Arturo turned his head with difficulty, gave Ashe a somewhat confused glance, and after a faint “mm,” turned away again.

A look of disappointment instantly crossed Ashe’s face, making Harvey sigh inwardly—Mr. Mind Devil really did take some kind of desire or emotion from the Clan Head.

“The transformation ritual… it must have failed, right?” Arturo asked dejectedly. “What method did you use to keep me alive?”

According to his understanding of the Lich transformation ritual, after a failure, he should have immediately fallen into an irreversible slumber. Then, within three to five days, his body would have uncontrollably decayed and disintegrated under the influence of the ritual circle, shattering his soul and mental energy along with it.

After receiving a nod of permission from Harvey, Xilisi and Proulx came forward and said in shame, “Clan Head, the ritual did indeed fail. Forcibly completing the flawed ritual, and using blood from a divine creature that simply couldn’t be replaced by other materials… those were the reasons for our failure…”

“But… but thankfully, Lord Harvey was here. He helped us extract your damaged soul imprint and transferred it, completely intact, into a brand new artificial body.”

Hearing this, Arturo felt a jolt in his mind, and he subconsciously lifted his head slightly to look at his own body.

Countless complex and arcane magic runes were engraved on the steel-cast breastplate. His limbs and torso were all forged from vast quantities of expensive and rare enchanted metals. Within the energy conduits hidden beneath the outer armor, he could clearly feel a gentle but immense mana slowly surging.

An artificial body? An Alchemical construct!

“I… I’ve been refined into an alchemical soul construct? Why… How can I still possess consciousness and free will?” Arturo was beyond horrified. In the dark sockets of his metal skull, the golden soul fire flickered unstably.

At this, Harvey stepped forward, placed a hand on his shoulder, and injected a surge of immense mental energy into his body, using the strange connection formed with his Mental Anchor to quickly soothe the other’s emotions.

Any soul construct guided and transferred by Harvey’s own hand, such as Astaren and Rainer, would inexplicably form a sort of connection with Harvey’s Mental Anchor, similar to a perceptual affinity or synchronous resonance.

The soul fire in Arturo’s eye sockets gradually stabilized, and his emotions followed suit. Still, he muttered in disbelief, “This is simply… simply incredible…”

He opened his mouth and, like a normal human, subconsciously let out a sigh that sounded like grinding metal.

“So… is this the way our long-sought soul immortality was meant to be achieved?”

Chapter 346: Reforging the School of Casting

When Arturo awoke from his deep slumber again, he found he had been moved from the underground laboratory filled with all sorts of precision instruments to a luxurious and spacious bedroom.

The room was empty. The thick curtains were drawn, and the surroundings were exceptionally quiet.

According to Lord Harvey, he was slightly different from other alchemical constructs. Due to his damaged and fragile soul imprint, he was unable to recklessly absorb mana from magic stones or the energy instruments called “energy-gathering arrays.” Therefore, he needed to enter a state of slumber every six to eight hours. During this period, he would use the mana coordinator installed in his body to slowly absorb mana until his energy was replenished, at which point he would awaken.

The other man had mockingly called him—the only alchemical construct that needed to recover its energy through sleep.

Perhaps taking into account Arturo’s unfamiliarity with his surroundings, and even though alchemical creatures naturally possessed night vision, a magic stone lamp had been thoughtfully lit on the bedside table, its warm, orange glow faintly illuminating the entire room.

Arturo subconsciously propped himself up. He found that although his senses were dull, he could still clearly perceive the softness of the bed and the lightness of the quilt. He then looked at the rather luxurious furnishings and the thick fur rug in the room.

It seemed this Lord Harvey also came from a powerful, ancient wizard family. It was even possible that, like himself, he held the position of leader or Clan Head of his family.

Tentatively moving his two metal arms, Arturo carefully swung his legs over the side of the bed. The moment his heavy body touched the ground, the thick rug sank.

The new body’s sense of balance was excellent. It seemed he just needed more time to get used to it.

He walked to the window and gently lifted a corner of the curtain. He saw that the sky outside was pitch-black. In the starless and moonless night, only a few hazy lights flickered. Through the windowpane, he could hear the whistling of the wind and snow.

This was indeed the Northern Barren Lands…

In such cold weather, an ordinary person would likely freeze solid after just a few hours outside. Arturo thought with a bitter smile that one benefit of his current form was that he would probably no longer fear extreme cold or heat.

Then, he recalled what Lord Harvey had frankly told him not long ago, and his heart felt as cold as the wind and snow outside the window. After becoming an alchemical construct, his mechanically forged body had no mana channels, meaning he could no longer inscribe or cast any spells.

The magical runes were gone… In a sense, he could no longer be considered a Spellcaster.

“Clan Head Lambert, you’ve awakened earlier than I expected.” Someone suddenly spoke from behind him.

Startled, Arturo spun around. In the dim yellow light, he saw Lord Harvey sitting leisurely in an armchair in the corner of the room, wearing a strangely shaped golden coronet, like a ghost that had suddenly appeared out of the darkness.

He had instantly teleported in using the high-rank spell, planar blink!

“You can clearly sense when I awaken?” Arturo asked tentatively.

Harvey nodded, giving a noncommittal response. “That’s right. The soul constructs I’ve converted develop a certain degree of natural perception with me. Astaren and Rainer, whom you met earlier, are the same as you.”

Arturo felt a sense of oppression and asked in a hoarse voice, “How do you control them?”

Harvey’s lips curled into a slight smile. “Control? Please, don’t worry about that. Whether it’s them or you, Clan Head Lambert, I will not control your minds, much less manipulate your actions at will…”

He paused, then shrugged and explained, “I have no intention of styling myself a Creator. You souls, reborn in alchemical bodies, absolutely possess free will and independent personalities.”

“You’ll have plenty of time later to talk with Astaren and Rainer. One is obsessed with alchemical experiments and spell research, while the other is skilled in management and administration, handling all the affairs of my domain for me.”

Arturo nodded, then said in a solemn voice, “Was the price for you saving me having the Lambert family and the Necromantic Cult move here to settle?”

“Do you think that price is not worth it?” Harvey seemed a bit surprised. “Hiding on the reefs of The Gloomy Sea, you risk being besieged by the Church and the nobles at any moment. Isn’t my domain in the barren lands safer and more comfortable than that?”

He stood up, walked to the window, and pulled the curtain aside, casually pointing to the silhouette of a towering building shrouded in the night.

“There, that’s the Magic Science Research Institute I’ve built for the Necromancers. Once completed, it will be handed over to you entirely. Every mid-rank Mage with research qualifications can have their own independent laboratory, fully equipped with all the necessary instruments and materials.”

Arturo had heard a brief account of this from Xilisi and Proulx when he first awoke, but he only dared to believe it now that he heard it from Harvey himself.

“I really don’t understand… Saving my life, accommodating and sheltering the Necromancers, building such a massive research institute for us… What is all this for? What do you want from us?”

Arturo absolutely refused to believe that Harvey would provide such generous, unconditional aid simply because of a few years of friendship with his only son, Ashe.

Harvey narrowed his eyes. He suddenly felt that this Clan Head Lambert was a perfect fit for the Spellcaster Forum’s membership criteria—he was an exceptionally firm believer in the principle of equivalent exchange.

“I helped you because if I had stood by and done nothing, my friend Ashe would have been buried with you in the blood sacrifice…”

“I’m taking in and protecting the Lambert family and the Necromantic Cult because I am already an open enemy of the Radiant Church, and we both belong to the necromancy school of casting. It’s only right that we watch out for and help one another.”

“As for… building the Magic Science Research Institute for you…”

Harvey paused, then slowly explained, “Naturally, I hope you will join me in re-examining this declining necromancy school of casting and change the stale and backward direction of research from the past.”

Arturo’s head shot up, and he asked with a trembling voice, “Lord Harvey… do you… believe that the research into flesh and death energy that Necromancers have engaged in in the past is… fundamentally flawed?”

Harvey took off the Dragon Chaser’s Coronet and toyed with it in his hand, saying casually, “Of course, I wouldn’t dare to make such a boastful claim or a final judgment. However, since I began experimenting at the soul level, I have indeed found a completely new direction for the school’s development…”

He turned to look at Clan Head Lambert and said seriously, “For now, at least, the fact that your family and the Cult have continued to this day with only three high-level casters remaining—and from what I know, Elder Xilisi is already in his twilight years—is enough to prove that there is a major problem with the developmental path you’ve chosen.”

Before Arturo could explain, Harvey continued in a low voice, “How long has it been since a Legendary-rank necromancer appeared among the human Spellcasters of the south? I’m sure you, Clan Head, know this better than I do, don’t you?”

Chapter 347: Magic Science Research Institute

The long winter of the Northern Realm was only halfway through when Egnor and Chris hurried into Harvey’s study, clutching a stack of maps.

“So this is the map of the Raven Ridge region that your survey team charted over the entire autumn and winter?”

“Not just Raven Ridge,” Egnor said with a smile. “It also includes a portion of the Icefields further north, and a one-hundred-and-fifty-kilometer stretch along the Spine of the Gods Mountains, running from east to west.”

Chris pointed to a large blank area on the map, east of the pioneer territories. “Further east of the farmlands where the Garrison Corps is stationed,” he explained, “we discovered an even vaster river valley plain… It’s surrounded by mountains on three sides, and we estimate its area is dozens of times larger than all the farmlands on the east coast.”

Harvey stared intently at the marked location on the map. He saw that this river valley plain, hidden within a dense primeval forest, was practically a natural basin from a geographical standpoint. The mountains to the north blocked the cold winds blowing from the Icefields, while several rivers fed by snowmelt rushed down from the Spine of the Gods Mountains to the south. If it could be cultivated, the grain it produced could likely feed well over a hundred thousand people.

Crucially, the valley’s perfect terrain blocked the vile orcs’ path of invasion from the south, forcing them to detour directly north of the pioneer territories, enter through the Icefield River Valley where the Forward Bastion was located, and then cross the relatively low-altitude Raven Ridge to reach the south.

“You managed to survey this entire area in less than five months?” Harvey asked cautiously, a bit concerned.

Egnor and Chris exchanged a glance and replied with confidence, “That’s right. We had help from your three high-level caster followers—Jin, Melissa, and Lord Duncan. By using flight spells, we were able to quickly survey the surrounding area and chart the map.”

Astaren mused for a moment, then commented, “If this river valley basin is truly untouched by the vile orc tribes, then incorporating it into the territory’s development and reclamation plans would be tantamount to giving us a massive granary.”

Harvey slowly placed his palm over the vast basin plain on the map and said with a wry smile, “That may be so, but where could we possibly find enough people right now to start developing this fertile, untouched land?”

Just as everyone was gathered around the map, deep in a heated discussion about the surrounding terrain, Haru, the Director of the Construction Department, rushed into the study. He bowed and reported, “My Lord, as per your request, the first phase of construction for the Magic Science Research Institute is now complete.”

To complete a third of the construction project for the academy, as planned by Harvey, in just two short months during the harsh winter was truly a marvel. It spoke volumes about the construction capabilities of the pioneer territories’ Construction Department, which could already be considered among the best in the world.

Of course, much of the credit belonged to the revolutionary product that was concrete. Coupled with the assistance of various newly developed construction-grade alchemical beasts, the building process had transformed from relying purely on manual labor to a semi-mechanized operation, increasing efficiency countless times over.

The research institute, originally designed with a courtyard layout resembling the character “回,” currently had only the L-shaped main section of the primary building completed, along with the foundation for a massive tower at the center of the courtyard.

However, Harvey didn’t want to wait until spring for the remaining construction to be finished. He decided to hold an unconventional “project completion” ceremony ahead of schedule.

Xilisi and Proulx stood behind Arturo Lambert, the Clan Head of the Lambert family, gazing with complex expressions at the enormous, dark gray building before them. The exterior showed no trace of stonework; its surface was perfectly smooth and flat. It was an intimidating thirty meters tall, a height matched only by the enchanted Mage Towers in the City of Magic, Araye.

The inauguration ceremony Harvey arranged was quite simple. A large, gleaming metal plaque, hoisted by an alchemical beast, was steadily welded onto a stone pillar in front of the academy’s main entrance. The crowd of Construction Department engineers and City Hall officials burst into enthusiastic cheers and applause, marking the successful completion of the unveiling ceremony.

“Everyone, please follow me inside for a brief tour. Along the way, our colleague in charge of construction will give us a detailed introduction to the academy’s layout and interior design,” Harvey said, clapping his hands. This snapped the gathered Necromancers out of their stupor—they had been standing there, mouths agape. They excitedly crowded around him and entered the academy’s main building.

“The main entrance leads to the reception hall. To the left and right on the first floor are the reception rooms, lounges, as well as a dining hall and the kitchen…”

“The second and third floors house your individual laboratories, gentlemen. There are ten small labs and four large ones. The interior work for this space was handled by a team sent by Mr. Chris from the Alchemy Laboratory. The inscribing of various protective arrays, the enchanting and reinforcement of the walls… the Construction Department couldn’t really lend a hand with that.”

“The fourth floor has two large conference halls and an entire open-plan library… The interior renovations are still in progress, but it will definitely be ready for use before spring.”

“The fifth floor holds your private offices, which also includes a temporary research office exclusively for our Lord…”

“As the auxiliary buildings aren’t finished yet, the spell testing ground originally planned for the basement is temporarily being used as a storage room for materials and equipment…”

Holding the blueprints, Haru, the Director of the Construction Department, led Harvey and the group of Spellcasters on a slow tour of the academy’s main building, expertly detailing the function and layout of each area as if he knew them by heart.

The vast majority of those present had never been to the City of Magic, Araye, in their lives, let alone seen such a luxurious research facility for Spellcasters. They were incredibly satisfied with the design and planning of every area, constantly whispering among themselves and occasionally letting out exclamations of admiration.

They toured for nearly half an hour before reluctantly returning to the first-floor hall.

“Clan Head Lambert, Elder Xilisi, and Councilor Proulx,” Harvey said, turning to the three with a smile. “What do you think? Are you reasonably satisfied with the Magic Science Research Institute built by our Construction Department?”

Arturo instinctively adjusted the loose mage robe over his cybernetic torso and said in a deep, emotional voice, “Lord Harvey, forgive me for being blunt… this is an overwhelmingly generous gift. I cannot think of any way we could possibly repay you.”

Xilisi and Proulx nodded in agreement. “Indeed,” they added. “Necromancers have never been treated with such favor and respect anywhere. We are willing to wholeheartedly follow the development path you envision for our school of casting and redirect our focus back to the study of souls.”

The assembled Necromancers all bowed, placed a hand over their chests, and declared in unison, “We are willing to follow Lord Harvey’s will and reforge the research direction of the Necromancer school of casting!”

Chapter 348: The Expanded Development Plan

Just before spring arrived, Harvey had finally settled the group of necromancers he had worked so hard to coax into coming back.

With Mr. Arturo, the Lambert family’s Clan Head, leading the group, which also included Elder Xilisi and Councilor Pular, Harvey now had a total of six high-level transcendent spellcasters in his territory.

However, Mr. Eye of Illusion and the Astrologer were not particularly interested in research experiments or teaching magic. They tactfully declined Harvey’s offer to have them become teachers at the Spellcaster Academy, choosing instead to join the territory’s exploration team on an expedition deep into the Icefields. Harvey could only agree with a wry smile.

Mr. Duncan, the master of shapeshifting magic, was quite different. Although he had taken the initiative to ask Harvey for the position of the lord’s magic advisor, he was also more than happy to take on the job of teaching spellcaster apprentices. He commuted daily between Harvey’s castle Laboratory and the Spellcaster Academy, and his work ethic could be described as nothing short of diligent.

Having sorted things out with the territory’s spellcasters, Harvey naturally turned his attention to its development.

“Rainer, have you and Astaren drafted the development plan I asked for?”

The plan to build a city in the pioneer territories, which had been decided upon at the high-level meeting six months ago, was now ready to be implemented.

To manage and develop the vast, pre-designated territory after the city was formally established, Harvey had created an entirely new administrative framework for the territory, based on his knowledge of government departments from his past life.

The first problem to solve was breaking down the natural class barrier that existed between ordinary people and transcendent spellcasters.

Therefore, he divided the entire territory’s administration into three parts—City Hall, the Military Command, and the Spellcaster Academy.

Each of these three branches would integrate spellcasters and commoners in reasonable proportions, working together to fulfill the territory’s various departmental functions, rather than following the old model of transcendent beings ruling over mortals.

According to the new development plan, the expanded City Hall would function like a house of representatives or a cabinet in a secular kingdom and would serve as the administrative core of the entire territory. Its staff would burgeon to around three hundred people, overseeing six major departments: Agriculture, Industry, Education, Finance, Justice, and Health.

The Military Command would retain its original structure, with only the munitions factory and its logistical and medical sections being incorporated for support. As before, the Northern Army would handle combat operations beyond the border, while the Defense Force would guard the territory internally. Pierce would be in command of the entire military for combat matters, while supreme command would remain with Harvey himself.

Within this structure was a “shadow department” that didn’t appear on any official charts—the Military Gendarmerie, secretly controlled by Astaren. As a clandestine organization, its funding would not come from City Hall, its personnel would not be on record, and its external function was intelligence gathering, while its internal function was to monitor corruption within both the military and political systems.

The Spellcaster Academy, as an additional independent department, would be attached to City Hall’s Education Department. It would specialize in cultivating special talent with an aptitude for spellcasting, who, after a selection process, would be sent to various production and construction departments or could pursue advanced studies at the Magic Science Research Institute.

Harvey’s ultimate goal was to not confine spellcasters to isolated magic laboratories to conduct theoretical research divorced from reality. Compared to raising the power level of individual spellcasters, applying the fruits of magical research for the benefit of the general populace to enhance the territory’s overall strength was the true path to power.

Departments like the Health Department, run by Egnor, and the Industrial Department, run by Chris, had already undergone revolutionary improvements and progress by integrating magical research in their respective fields. Furthermore, their research findings could also radiate out to benefit other departments, playing an important catalytic role.

After carefully reviewing the plan drafted by Astaren and Rainer, Harvey noticed a significant problem.

“Are you sure we can recruit this many municipal officials who understand management and have received relevant training from within the territory?”

Harvey remembered clearly that the public academy’s Advanced Education Department, which was responsible for training municipal management talent, probably couldn’t even muster a hundred graduates.

Astaren mulled it over for a moment before suggesting tentatively, “My lord, the Advanced Education Department has been open for too short a time, so it’s true we can’t source enough management talent… However, you mustn’t forget that we also effectively control the entire Grizzly Bear Territory south of Raven Ridge…”

Harvey immediately understood his meaning and was somewhat surprised by his bold idea. “You mean to recruit from among the educated lesser nobility and the wealthy landowning class?”

Astaren nodded and explained, “Precisely. You yourself often say that one’s environment can change their perspective and ideology… As the pioneer territories have grown more prosperous, our interactions with the Grizzly Bear Territory to the south have become increasingly frequent. Grizzly Keep is currently managed by those surrendered nobles, and it is gradually getting on the right track according to your vision. After the autumn harvest, City Hall even received its first tax payment.”

“Oh? It’s going that smoothly?” Harvey was a little surprised. He hadn’t expected the new “Earl Fegan” to actually keep his promise and remain firmly subordinate to his rule.

Harvey had originally considered Grizzly Keep, a region too distant from himself, the “emperor” of the barren lands, to be a minor, dispensable spoil of war. He hadn’t paid it much attention at all, leaving it entirely to Astaren to handle as he saw fit.

“Of course. He delivered the agreed-upon thirty percent city operating tax on time, not a penny short,” Astaren reported, pulling out a ledger. “Moreover, Earl Fegan has been the one arranging for merchant caravans to provide a steady supply of some of the sugar, salt, silk, and luxury goods that the territory currently lacks, and the prices are even slightly cheaper than the Dragonstone Merchant Guild’s.”

Rainer chimed in with a grin, “You had previously granted Earl Fegan permission to travel to the barren lands quarterly to report to you in person. But during that period, you were busy operating your soul puppet overseas, so I was the one who received him… After enjoying a few days in our territory, Earl Fegan actually took the initiative to ask me if I had any connections that could help him purchase a vacation villa here.”

Grizzly Keep was also located in the cold region north of the south. Compared to the pioneer territories, where heating was installed everywhere, the roaring log fires in Earl Fegan’s manor now seemed far less enjoyable.

“The lesser nobles of Grizzly Bear Territory who have pledged allegiance to us are also flocking to our various consumer goods. They constantly send envoys, hoping to obtain sales and distribution rights like the merchant guilds, and they are willing to give up a majority of their profits to do so.”

It seemed this group of Grizzly Bear Territory nobles, who had previously been forced to align with him and had broken ties with the Church and the Grand Duke of St. Valen, had now truly tasted the sweet fruits of the pioneer territories’ prosperity. They were now dead set on firmly clinging to his coattails to get a piece of the pie.

Harvey thought for a moment. “Cautiously select a group of young descendants from those lesser noble and wealthy merchant families. Bring them to the territory and have them study at the public academy for a while first.”

He was truly curious to see just how quickly the brand-new social environment he had single-handedly created could completely change a person’s values and ideology…

Taking a Day Off for a Business Trip at the Start of the Month!

Taking a day off for a business trip at the start of the month!

Starting this month, the update time might change a bit. Sometimes it will be moved to twelve noon or six in the evening.

Because I’ve been stationed at one of the company’s stores and am no longer at a desk job in the office, I won’t have the chance to slack off and write anymore. It’s a very unfriendly environment for a part-time writer. From now on, I can only stay up late to write after I get off work…

Chapter 349: The First Signs of Civil War

“My lord, it’s a shame you didn’t attend the launching ceremony for the new ship at the shipyards today. You should have seen the looks on the faces of those young nobles who just arrived… It was absolutely hilarious.”

After giving his daily work report, Rainer chuckled as he recounted the morning’s interesting events at the dock district to his “reclusive” lord.

Ever since Harvey granted special approval for the vassal nobles of Grizzly Bear Territory in the south to send their talented youths to study at the pioneer territories’ public academy’s Advanced Education Department, many have arrived one after another in just half a month.

Considering their loyalties might be wavering and their backgrounds and statuses were varied, Astaren did not mix them with the local students. Instead, he set up separate classes for them, and even their accommodations and daily lives were clearly segregated.

Without local identification, this group of noble students found their movements restricted. Apart from the Academy District and the Market District, they were not allowed to venture into other areas. If they did, they would face inspections and be expelled by patrol officers. Knowingly repeating the offense could even lead to them being sent directly back to the south.

This caused the young nobles, who were long accustomed to the freedom of feasting, drinking, and riding for sport in their family fiefs, to find it extremely difficult to adapt.

“In just half a month, almost half of them have either left voluntarily or been forced to return…” Rainer scoffed.

“The ones who remain are the more rule-abiding types. When they heard they could attend the new ship’s launching ceremony, they were all quite interested and got up early, heading to the dock district adjacent to the Market District to watch the spectacle.”

The result, of course, was that they were so shocked by the sight of a sailless, steel-forged ship thundering into the water that their jaws dropped.

When they saw the new ship activate its magic-powered engine and rumble forward at high speed, breaking the ice on the wide, half-frozen river, the horrified expressions on the faces of these young southern nobles—who had originally come just to relieve their boredom—froze solid.

The Raven Ridge mountain range, which originates from the Spine of the Continent Mountains, also has many waterways navigable by ships. These rivers flow through various parts of Grizzly Bear Territory, located in the frontier region, naturally including their own family fiefs.

They couldn’t help but immediately imagine these sturdy, steel-forged ships sailing swiftly down the surging rivers toward their own family’s lands, and what raging fires of war the powerful soldiers on board, armed with magic quarrel weapons, would ignite.

The more quick-witted among the young nobles finally understood why their families had gone to such great lengths, gone through so much trouble, to get their names on the list of students and send them to the fief of this lord of the barren lands.

Compared to the Grand Duke of St. Valen and the Radiant Church, hundreds of kilometers away, this lord of the barren lands—with his sturdy ships, powerful weapons, and formidable army—was the real mountain looming over them, the true “King of the Frontier.”

…

Harvey, of course, had no time to ponder the complex thoughts of the young nobles from Grizzly Bear Territory. The conflict between the Church and the Federation on the border of St. Valen and Da’ers was intensifying. The nations in the central part of the south had all taken sides and made their stances clear. Whether it was the wizard kingdoms supporting the Federation or the secular duchies vassalized to the Church, all began champing at the bit and secretly amassing power.

The central region of the south was now like a giant powder keg, seemingly just waiting for a single sensitive signal to ignite a large-scale, all-out civil war.

And Harvey, entrenched in the barren lands, couldn’t completely ignore the situation in the south. Although Grizzly Bear Territory, which he effectively controlled, was located in the frontier region of St. Valen, it seemed that no matter how the nobles and the Church launched their offensive against the Federation, they would not prioritize turning around to deal with him.

But the Grand Duke of St. Valen and the Church were no fools. Even if they devoted all their strength to dealing with the Federation forces in Da’ers, they would never completely forget about this troublemaker at their backs. There would surely be a constant stream of small-scale harassment to follow. This would most likely consist of dispatching assassins for “decapitation strikes,” supplemented by planting spies and secret agents to disrupt the stability and morale within Harvey’s fief.

The time Harvey had left to develop his territory and build up his own strength in peace was truly running out.

“Population… it’s still a problem of population,” Harvey scratched his messy short hair in frustration, muttering almost obsessively, “Without people, you can’t cultivate enough talent. Without talent, you can’t get quality labor. And with a lack of labor… all the territory’s development plans and production projects can’t expand…”

Rainer and Astaren glanced at each other and sighed silently in unison. They had long grown accustomed to their lord’s obsessive desire for more people.

Whenever Harvey fell into this state, Astaren would take it upon himself to shoulder the arduous task of pouring cold water on his lord’s enthusiasm. “My lord… even if we took in a large number of people, we don’t have enough food to feed them right now. As you know, war is imminent. Recently, even the Dragonstone Merchant Guild hasn’t been able to purchase grain at a reasonable price from the central nations of the south and ship it here.”

Leaning back in his chair, dejected, Harvey subconsciously turned his gaze to the new map of the Northern Realm that had just been hung on his study wall—to the eastern river valley basin plains, an area surrounded by mountains.

That area had not originally been part of the development plans for the next few years for a simple reason: it was a primitive region that even vile orcs found difficult to cross into. It would be no less difficult for Harvey to send people to develop it.

Transportation was the first major problem. Although the eastern basin seemed to be only a little over one hundred to one hundred and fifty kilometers from the pioneer territories in a straight line—a distance soldiers on Magic Motorcycles could cover in a day on flat ground—the route required crossing mountains even taller than Raven Ridge, which made it impossible.

War Beasts could cross mountains, but they were limited in number, and their carrying capacity was no substitute for the alchemical camel-beasts.

“Regardless, the plan to recruit more people absolutely cannot be shelved.” Harvey closed his eyes and contemplated for a long moment. He decided he could not give up so easily, nor would he slow his own momentum for development.

“You will continue to follow the plan we laid out. Send undercover officers to the various prefectures and towns in Grizzly Bear Territory in the south. Offer jobs and free housing to recruit the poor, landless tenant farmers from the nobles’ fiefs.”

Harvey had already arranged this with the new Earl Fegan, telling him to notify all the vassal nobles under his rule to let any tenant farmers who were unable to pay rent and had no land of their own leave freely without interference.

“As for the areas outside Grizzly Bear Territory…” Harvey tapped the table and smiled at his two loyal subordinates, “…that will depend on what kind of surprise the merchant guilds who signed trade agreements with us can bring.”

These large merchant guilds, which operated year-round throughout the nations of the south and had influence in every town, village, and prefecture, were the best possible recruitment channels for Harvey.

Chapter 350: “Spirit” and “Soul”

After the Magic Science Research Institute was formally completed and handed over for use, the spellcasters of the Lambert family and the Necromantic Cult all moved in with great delight.

Although Harvey had nominally promised them the entire institute, the portion these necromancers actually occupied was not that large. After they moved in, more than half of the main building remained empty and unused.

Aside from the necromancers who voluntarily joined the Spellcaster Academy as magic teachers to train apprentices, many mid- and low-rank members still obsessed with flesh magic research eagerly recommended themselves for the rotating position of magic advisor at the River Valley Outpost.

This was a source of secret joy for Pierce. The Military Command could finally, and openly, have their own dedicated spellcasters. Although they were attached as advisors, the combat power of necromancers—with their abundant source of corpses—was not to be underestimated. With their assistance and their living corpse puppets scouting the way, many of the more dangerous and in-depth patrol and raid missions saw a significant reduction in unnecessary casualties for the outpost’s troops.

In the end, the number of necromancers permanently stationed at the Magic Science Research Institute was fixed at twenty-eight. This naturally included the three high-rank casters—Clan Head Arturo, Elder Xilisi, and Councilor Pular—as well as twenty-five mid-rank Necromancers.

As for the other fifty or sixty magic apprentices and low-rank Mages, those who were to continue their studies at the Spellcaster Academy enrolled as planned. Those who did not qualify for an independent laboratory joined a mid-rank Mage’s research group as assistants, according to their own wishes.

After learning that the residents of the pioneer territories held no discrimination or hostility toward necromancers, some spellcasters even requested to join various production and manufacturing departments. Harvey had Astaren recommend and assign them accordingly.

Egnor’s infirmary and Chris’s Alchemy Laboratory each took in a few of these necromancers, much to everyone’s satisfaction.

…

“Extensive experimental research indicates that there is some unknown… and unbreakable, intimate connection between a soul imprint and the Magic Net space.”

“And the iron law that souls cannot be created from nothing, nor can they be arbitrarily stripped away, can be completely broken with the attachment and enhancement of Magic Net energy…”

“As long as the extracted soul imprint is infused with a matching, pure mana, it can be preserved for a very long time without being eroded by other dimensions or naturally fading with time. I believe you have already seen proof of this in Clan Head Lambert’s soul transfer experiments.”

Harvey sat at the head of the long table in the institute’s fourth-floor grand conference hall, explaining his long-held research theories to the necromancers gathered around him.

But ordinary spellcasters did not possess a magical rune and Mental Anchor as powerful and strange as his, so they naturally couldn’t freely roam the Magic Net’s other dimensions and repeatedly attempt to fuse soul imprints with Magic Net energy using a vast reserve of mental energy.

So, Harvey planned to have them start from the very beginning, with the most basic research projects, to open up a brand-new field of research that only he was currently exploring.

“The experimental research projects you all need to begin with will be centered on soul extraction and soul transfer.”

Harvey had a magic apprentice distribute the materials he had prepared in advance to the three high-rank casters. He said warmly, “The energy-gathering array in the institute has been set up, and we have a more than sufficient supply of alchemical cybernetic bodies to serve as soul vessels. There’s no need to be too hasty. Start with soul extraction experiments on ordinary animals and magical creatures.”

Clan Head Arturo carefully held the documents in his hands, understanding that the text and runic diagrams on this stack of white paper were the precious key to reshaping the research direction of their necromantic school of casting.

“Lord Harvey, we understand what you mean. For the foreseeable future, all research groups will concurrently conduct these two experimental projects to familiarize ourselves with the relevant theories in the field of soul research as quickly as possible.”

As a high-level caster, he naturally understood that just burying their heads in experiments in isolation was not feasible. The various Soul Alchemical Beasts that were already commonplace throughout the barren lands’ territory showed that this technology had matured long before their arrival. The creation and manufacturing of many alchemical beasts didn’t even require Harvey himself; it could be done by senior technicians in the magical munitions factory familiar with assembly-line work, in cooperation with work-type alchemical beasts, achieving self-sufficient production.

“Don’t be fooled by the production lines in the magical munitions factory, which churn out alchemical beasts day and night,” Harvey said with a wry smile. “In reality, the scrap rate is extremely high. If the cybernetic vessels weren’t recyclable, I wouldn’t be able to afford such a high failure rate in their creation.”

Whether it was an ordinary animal or a magical creature, the strength of their soul energy was far inferior to that of intelligent races. The slightest mistake during extraction or transfer could cause the soul to be damaged or shattered, resulting in a failed creation.

This was also why Harvey wanted them to start by imitating the munitions factory’s methods, beginning with animals and magical creatures to get their footing.

“Once everyone is familiar with operating the equipment and using the runes, you can naturally upgrade the experimental materials to intelligent being experimental subjects…” Harvey explained with a smile.

This immediately drew eager gazes from the crowd. Intelligent being experimental subjects… To experiment on humans of their own race was, of course, an insane and absolutely taboo act, but for a hostile non-human race like the vile orcs, they could carry out all kinds of experimental projects without any restraint.

The very reason the necromantic school of casting had lagged in its development was the scarcity of experimental subjects. They had to endure severe suppression from the Church and secular society just to use a few corpses, let alone defy the world’s condemnation by using living people for experiments.

“Make sure to build a good relationship with the Industrial Department’s Maintenance Center. They have a large number of scrapped and damaged alchemical beasts. Although the carrier vessels are broken, the biological soul imprints they contain are intact. You can extract and transfer them repeatedly for your experimental verification.”

Arturo pondered for a moment, then hesitated. “We are to coordinate with the other departments in the territory ourselves? Won’t that be…”

“Do you all still believe that the goodwill and acceptance the territory’s residents show you is due to my coercion and command, rather than genuine, equal treatment from the heart?” Harvey asked with a light laugh.

The young Mage Michel, sitting further down the table, stood up excitedly, his voice trembling, “Speaker, I can prove it… prove that the people of the pioneer territories hold no hostility or discrimination toward us…”

Only after he had spoken did he realize his sudden outburst was somewhat impolite. He quickly pulled on Black and White, who were sitting beside him in a daze, and stammered, “The Lord granted us special permission to go to the Forward Bastion in the River Valley area and fight alongside the common soldiers against the vile orcs. They truly didn’t care at all about our identity as necromancers. We ate, lived, and joked with them.”

That Commander Dav had even taken the initiative to befriend him, inviting him to that Officers’ Club to play cards on several occasions… But Michel was too embarrassed to say that last part in front of his leaders.

Chapter 351: The Blocked Path of Advancement

Inside a private office at the Magic Science Research Institute, Harvey sat with three high-level necromancers, exchanging research insights.

Although Necromancy was a school with closed-off theories and slow development, it wasn’t without its share of brilliant talents. At least in Harvey’s eyes, the three Necromancers before him were representative of the current state of this school of casting.

Councilor Proulx, though a descendant of a branch of the Lambert family, was slightly older than the other two Lamberts. He had successfully advanced to a high rank twenty years ago with the aid of a special ritual from the Necromantic Cult.

Clan Head Arturo, on the other hand, was exceptionally gifted in the art of Necromancy. In his early forties, he inherited the magical legacy left by the previous Speaker of the Cult, becoming the youngest high-rank Speaker in the hundred-plus-year history of both the Lambert family and the Necromantic Cult. If he hadn’t recklessly attempted the Lich transformation ritual, trying to forge a new path to the Legendary-rank, his future potential would have likely been limitless.

What surprised Harvey the most was Elder Xilisi, who appeared the most unremarkable of the three. Though he was not yet sixty, his years of immersion in necromantic experiments and deep corrosion from death energy had aged him prematurely. His hair was sparse and white, his skin dry and wrinkled, and his face and hands were covered in conspicuous age spots. He looked even more weathered than Lord Salas, the Chief of the Federation, who was over one hundred and fifty years old.

But his eyes were very strange, completely different from the unique azure pupils characteristic of the Lambert family. They were a deep, dark gray, as if they held an infinite wisdom accumulated from the wash of countless years.

“In the past, Elder Xilisi was responsible for guarding the Corpse Cave and protecting the Cult’s Legendary magic artifact at the family’s ancestral land. That’s why his body suffered the most severe corrosion from the Sanctum’s projection. Those eyes of his were actually replaced through a secret art of flesh and blood; they aren’t his original ones, which were damaged to the point of blindness…” Arturo explained, noticing Harvey’s frequent, curious glances toward Xilisi.

Harvey asked with curiosity, “Is that the Legendary magic artifact you used in the Lich ritual cave in The Gloomy Sea? The one that can manifest a projection of the Sanctum of the Dead?”

Arturo nodded and admitted frankly, “Indeed. But this Legendary artifact, called Dead Man’s Afterglow, wasn’t originally intended for creating protective arrays and sealing projections… It’s actually a rare amplifying artifact.”

An amplifying… Legendary magic artifact? That sounded quite underwhelming. In his years on the Spellcaster Forum, Harvey had seen and heard about the fame and effects of many Legendary artifacts, such as Chief Salas’s “Storm Furnace” and Chief Gallagher’s “Phantasm Eye.” He had witnessed the former firsthand and even had the honor of borrowing the latter.

In his understanding, a Legendary magic artifact should either be tremendously powerful, excelling in both offense and defense, or possess an incredibly strange and unique auxiliary function, like the “Phantasm Eye” or his own “Dragon Chaser’s Coronet.” If its only effect was amplification, it hardly deserved to be called Legendary.

“But Dead Man’s Afterglow has an incredibly terrifying protective effect. If I hadn’t used some special means back then, the three of us—Black, White, and myself—would have been trapped inside, our life force drained completely.”

Xilisi gave a bitter smile. “That is one of its greatest drawbacks. Although the projection automatically covers the entire area upon activation, it endlessly siphons the life force of the wielder while fending off enemies. One might say that everything except for mana—flesh, mental energy, and life essence—will slowly wither away.”

Everything except mana? This Legendary artifact didn’t crave mana? It was sustained and driven by the wielder’s own flesh, essence, and mental energy… It was truly bizarre.

“But why do you call it an amplifying artifact?” The more Harvey heard, the more confused he became, and he couldn’t help but ask.

As Xilisi’s life force and mana had waned, the task of holding and safeguarding the artifact had naturally fallen to Councilor Pular. After receiving a permissive glance from Arturo, he retrieved the exquisite, small model of a white bone castle from his storage ring and presented it to Harvey with both hands.

“That’s because… since the passing of the Cult’s first Speaker, every Human necromancer in the south for the past century who has wanted to advance to a high rank… has had to rely on its power for assistance. There is no other way.”

What? Harvey’s eyes widened in disbelief.

But thinking back carefully, during his time at the Necromancy Academy, he had indeed never heard of a single necromancer from the orthodox academy successfully advancing to a high rank and making their identity public. Even the Dean of the academy was a shadow-school Spellcaster serving in a concurrent role, not an orthodox Necromancer who specialized in Necromancy.

It was a truly bleak thought. Most apprentices who actively or passively chose this school of casting probably had no idea that their magical path had been blocked from the very beginning, their future almost entirely foreseeable.

“Most of the exceptionally talented Necromancers, through their own failed attempts to advance to a high rank, discovered that no matter how hard they tried, they were completely unable to inscribe or condense a high-level caster’s mana circle within their magical runes. Naturally, people gradually uncovered the crux of the problem.”

“This certainly isn’t a natural law of mana… otherwise, how did those high-level Necromancers from ancient times, who could refine even powerful Demonic beasts into corpse puppets, successfully advance and reach the summit of the Legendary rank?” Harvey murmured to himself. “So… the path of advancement for the necromantic school of casting… was artificially blocked?”

Clan Head Arturo let out a soft sigh and shook his head. “We can’t be certain of the reason. It could be the natural decline of Death Mana in the Magic Net space… In any case, we all know very well that this school of casting is inevitably withering away.”

Elder Xilisi, who had been engaged in experimental research for years, felt this even more keenly. “If Lord Harvey hadn’t proposed a brand new direction for the development of our school, we would probably have continued to risk the Lich transformation ritual. The Speaker failed, so it would have been my turn… and if I had failed, it would have been Proulx’s…”

As long as one person was fortunate enough to touch the Legendary-rank and achieve a deep connection with the Magic Net’s other dimensions, the truth behind why this school of casting had been mysteriously cut off might come to light, giving successors hope to continue forward.

“Advancing to a high rank with the aid of a Legendary magic artifact isn’t the worst possible choice. There’s no need for you all to be so despondent,” Harvey said, trying to comfort them.

As far as he knew, other orthodox schools of casting also had many rituals and secret arts to aid advancement, greatly helping a Spellcaster smoothly ascend through the ranks. Mr. Son of Flame had once mentioned to Harvey that he had emulated Lord Gallagher by simulating his teacher Salas’s original nine-circle spell, using a secret potion in the heat of battle to forcibly push for his advancement to a high rank.

For Dead Man’s Afterglow to be able to help Necromancers condense a mana circle during advancement made it quite a powerful amplifying artifact after all.

Xilisi and Proulx glanced at each other, both wearing bitter smiles. “I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood, Lord Harvey. Although the three of us appear to have advanced to a high rank, in reality, we have not condensed the mana circle of a high-level caster within our magical runes at all.”

Arturo took over, speaking calmly, “That’s right. The function of Dead Man’s Afterglow is to simulate a new mana circle within the magical runes, bypassing the original restriction and allowing us to successfully condense original or improved necromantic spells.”

But a simulated mana circle could never compare to one truly born from within the magical runes. Therefore, in terms of their actual rank and strength, the three of them were simply no match for Spellcasters from other orthodox schools who had advanced normally through the analysis of their own original spells.

This was entirely like exploiting a bug, a way of being forced to cheat…

Chapter 352: The Omen Above the Starry Sky

Considering that Dead Man’s Afterglow was currently recognized as the sole aid for Necromancers advancing to high-rank, Harvey had initially been a bit troubled about how to ask to borrow it for research. To his surprise, Arturo and the other two had spoken first, expressing their willingness to entrust the magic artifact to Harvey’s care, hoping he might make some new discoveries.

After all, this thing had been passed down through several generations of Speakers in the Necromantic Cult, and so far, none had truly figured out its origins or its real purpose. In fact, each generation of Speakers’ frequent attempts and experiments had only led to the gradual decay and weakening of their own flesh and life force, a price not worth paying.

This was especially true after Arturo was converted into an alchemical lifeform, completely losing the ability and qualification to activate and control Dead Man’s Afterglow. With Proulx as the only high-rank member of the Necromantic Cult in a normal state, they simply couldn’t afford the cost of frequently using this magic artifact anymore.

Having learned from this cautionary tale, Harvey would naturally not attempt to use his own body to activate the magic artifact. Compared to the three high-rank members of the Cult, his greatest asset for studying this strange artifact was, of course, the two soul puppets hidden within his Mental Anchor.

Using the puppets to wield the artifact would only result in the loss of some flesh and blood essence. In any case, there would always be opportunities later to lock onto and trap non-human spellcasters through the Magic Net, devour them within his Mental Anchor, and convert them into puppet eggs. There was no need to feel bad about using up consumables.

As for the problem of the artifact incessantly draining mental energy when activated, that was even less of a concern. If Arturo, Proulx, and Xilisi, who were only pseudo high-rank, could withstand it, his own mental energy, which surpassed the Legendary-rank, would naturally be more than sufficient.

…

Late at night, in the underground laboratory of the Lord’s Castle.

Rainer and Astaren worked in perfect coordination, preparing all the necessary instruments and tools for Harvey’s experiment, huddling together from time to time to exchange a few words in low voices.

Meanwhile, Harvey lay on a reclining chair with a calm expression, his eyes tightly shut, seemingly already in a state of deep meditation.

Harvey was immensely curious about how this strange Legendary magic artifact, Dead Man’s Afterglow, wasn’t activated with an infusion of mana, but by directly drawing upon the user’s flesh and life force.

Another purpose of analyzing the artifact through experimentation was to test a conjecture Mr. Mind Devil had once casually mentioned—that the true self of the magic artifact projection should exist within a hidden spatial fissure in the Plane of the Magic Net. Furthermore, it was highly likely that it had been created by some Legendary Necromancer from ancient times to hide the coordinates of their Mage Tower in the real world and to protect their magical legacy and inherited knowledge.

The principle was similar to that of a mirage: a visible projection must have a corresponding true self. And this artifact, Dead Man’s Afterglow, might just be the key to opening that necromantic legacy.

But the analysis experiment had to be conducted with extreme care and caution.

Harvey wasn’t worried about safety issues from improper operation, but rather feared that a mistake might destroy this seemingly fragile bone model. After all, it was currently the only thing known to help Necromancers advance to high-rank. With no real progress in soul spellcasting research, the Necromancers of the Academy of Sciences were all counting on it.

If he accidentally broke it, for the Necromantic Cult and the Lambert family, the despair would likely be akin to requiring an amputation below the neck.

“No matter what unusual phenomena occur during the experiment, do not infuse the artifact with mana on your own. It’s best to keep the energy-gathering array’s transmission equipment from interfering at all…”

The soul puppet sitting beside Harvey opened its eyes, rose to its feet, and began instructing the two assistants.

The two Alchemical constructs had long grown accustomed to Harvey’s strange habit of randomly “switching characters” during experiments. They nodded in unison to show they understood. Then, Astaren glanced at the guard alchemical beasts standing by the wall and, using their soul-link connection, gave them the highest directive: to surround Harvey’s true self and remain on high alert to protect him.

Although the underground laboratory was completely sealed, and the Bloodline Warrior personal guards on night duty were stationed above, there was no harm in adding a few extra layers of security.

With all preparations complete, Harvey controlled the soul puppet to sit before the experimental bench. Its pale, slender hands carefully lifted the sanctum model carved from bone, and it tentatively gathered a small wisp of mental energy, slowly making contact with it.

According to Clan Head Arturo, to control the range of the Sanctum of the Dead’s projection within Dead Man’s Afterglow, one only needed to infuse mental energy while carefully observing the three Underworld Banshees carved with exquisite, lifelike detail on the spire of the bone sanctum model.

As the mental energy was continuously infused, one of the three previously motionless banshees on the spire suddenly seemed to come to life.

The pure white banshee, no bigger than a pinky fingernail, slowly turned its head to look in Harvey’s direction. It then opened its mouth in a silent wail and, flapping the wings on its back, began to fly in circles around the sanctum’s spire.

“What an exquisite and interesting little thing…” Rainer couldn’t help but exclaim in admiration.

Activating one Underworld Banshee confined the influence and coverage of the sanctum’s projection to within the underground laboratory, ensuring it wouldn’t affect the upper floors or anyone else in the castle.

Aside from the completely unaffected puppet and Harvey’s true self, the alchemical lifeforms in the laboratory had no reason to care about having their flesh and life force drained… they didn’t have any to begin with.

As the infusion of mental energy continued, the entire underground laboratory seemed to have been washed over by time, rapidly losing its vibrant colors. Black, white, and gray silently enveloped everything, and a dead silence began to fall over Harvey’s ears.

He instinctively glanced back and saw that the originally brass and silver-white metal bodies of Astaren and Rainer now looked as if they were coated in a layer of rust. The brightly colored soul fires in their eye sockets had instantly turned into two pale glows.

Activating just one banshee wasn’t enough to make the sanctum’s projection manifest directly in the real world, nor could the underground laboratory possibly contain such a majestic and magnificent palace.

“This should be enough. A stable infusion of mental energy at this level is sufficient to keep the artifact active while confining the projection’s influence to the laboratory…” Harvey muttered to himself.

He controlled the soul puppet to continue maintaining the output of mental energy, intending to tell the two assistants waiting behind him that they could begin testing the artifact’s properties with various instruments.

But before he could turn around again, the bone sanctum in his hands suddenly trembled slightly. The three banshees on the spire all awakened, but instead of spreading their wings to circle the sanctum, they shot into the bone sanctum like frightened little insects, hiding themselves from view.

“What’s going on?” Before Harvey could get a closer look, he suddenly felt the puppet, which was closely linked to his true self, being guided by the bone sculpture, uncontrollably increasing its infusion of mental energy.

Boom—

Harvey instantly lost his connection with the puppet. At the same time, he unknowingly entered a state of deep meditation, and a projection of his true self materialized directly within his Mental Anchor.

It was the same familiar, azure-blue planet, the same dark and boundless expanse of space.

No! Something seemed different…

Harvey controlled his projection to spin around and look up—at that small patch of starry sky that had abruptly appeared in the space when he first created the brand-new spell, Magnetic Storm Field…

It was as if some enormous, invisible hands had violently torn a larger opening, revealing many more brilliant, twinkling specks of starlight. However, this torn and expanded patch of sky still looked, as before, like a temporary cutout pasted onto the scene, appearing utterly out of place against the pitch-black void of space.

“Why would the bone sanctum artifact and the projection it creates… trigger a reaction from this starry sky within my Mental Anchor?”

Unable to be certain of the consequences, Harvey didn’t dare to take any risks. The trajectories of astral projections were, at times, connected to one’s own destiny.

This had to represent some kind of omen, one whose meaning he could not yet comprehend…

Chapter 353: An Unknown Starfield

Boom! Crack!

Several deep, rumbling peals of thunder shattered the silence of the cold midwinter night. A sudden bolt of lightning tore across the sky, illuminating nearly the entire night sky above the pioneer territories.

Countless people were jolted from their sleep, rushing to their windows to look up in confusion, wondering why thunder and lightning would suddenly strike in the middle of a winter’s night.

The Astrologer, Melissa, also awoke from her light meditation. Her face pale, she slowly walked to the window, her brow furrowed as she stared silently at the now-calm, deep night sky.

For an Astrology Mage, this was not a good omen…

A sudden knocking rattled her bedroom door. It took Melissa no effort to guess who it was. “The door is unlocked, Jin.”

The Eye of Illusion, wearing a thin robe over his pajamas, walked in barefoot after turning the knob. “The celestial phenomena are abnormal. I was worried… that it might affect your meditation… so I came to check on you.”

Astrology Mages, a school of arcane casting, had a much stranger method of cultivation than ordinary arcane casters. Besides condensing spells within their magical runes to advance their rank, they also needed to find a star in the real world that represented the course of destiny. By using the connection between the star’s projection and themselves, they could decipher much secret and precious magical knowledge, and at times, it could even serve as a form of prescience.

This was the main reason why Astrology Mages were often hired as royal magic advisors to the kingdoms of the south. Compared to Elemental Mages and Arcane Mages, these “prophets” who could genuinely help one seek good fortune and avoid misfortune were clearly more popular with royalty and nobility.

Melissa sighed softly and said in a low voice, “I wasn’t really affected, but the celestial phenomena are indeed unusual. My teacher has gone to Grizzly Keep and hasn’t returned yet. I think we should head to the Lord’s Castle immediately.”

As two of the few high-rank combat mages in the territory, Melissa and Jin couldn’t mingle with Chris and the others as easily as Benoit had, who immediately dove into the various alchemical experiments that interested him.

Nor did they possess the vast knowledge of their teacher, Duncan, who could converse and laugh with Lord Harvey and his vampire alchemical lifeform, Mr. Astaren, exchanging profound and rare magical knowledge and experimental results.

Therefore, when they had no missions from the lord, the two of them still chose to live in a guest hotel closest to the Lord’s Castle, unlike the newly arrived Necromancers who were active in the Magic Science Research Institute.

Jin strode to the window and pushed it open, shivering involuntarily as a blast of frigid wind hit him. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s use a flight spell and go right now!”

Melissa grabbed his arm, speechless. “Can’t you at least get dressed before we go?”

…

Harvey gave a wry smile as he took the warm towel from Rainer and wiped his face. He explained in a gentle voice, “There was indeed a small problem in the laboratory. I didn’t expect it to cause such a strange celestial change in the surrounding area…”

The Eye of Illusion secretly glanced at the two alchemical lifeforms standing beside Harvey and noticed that their once-gleaming, brand-new enchanted metal armor was now covered in mottled, rusty patches, as if eroded by the long passage of time.

“Judging by the state of your two assistants, I’m afraid it was more than just a ‘small problem’…” Jin couldn’t help but mutter, earning him a glare from Melissa.

The Astrologer bowed gracefully to Harvey. “Since nothing untoward has happened here, my Lord, we won’t disturb your meditation and rest any longer…”

Just as the two were about to take their leave, Harvey suddenly raised a hand to stop them.

“Wait! Uh… Ms. Astrologer, you’re an Astrology school spellcaster, and I happen to have a problem from my experiment that I need your help with.”

The Eye of Illusion was taken aback for a moment, then chuckled. “Lord Harvey, have you forgotten that we are both battle mages?”

Experimental spells and theoretical research were not their areas of expertise.

Harvey waved his hand with a smile, pulling a somewhat yellowed, flat sheet of paper from his desk. He rolled it up slightly and handed it to the Astrologer.

“I know that you Astrology Mages have collected and studied the coordinates and trajectories of stars in great depth…” Harvey pointed at the paper in his hand. “So I’d like to ask you to identify the name of this starfield’s coordinates and the region it corresponds to.”

The Astrologer subconsciously took the paper and slowly unrolled it. She found an exceptionally crude star chart drawn on the pure white surface. All the stars were represented by ink dots, and a few of the larger ones were inexplicably connected by thin lines. A single glance told her it was not the work of a peer well-versed in astrology.

“This… this star chart is a bit too crude.” The Astrologer frowned and examined it several times before speaking to Harvey. “My Lord, forgive me for being blunt… but I’m afraid this is a randomly fabricated and sloppily drawn chart. The positions of the main star and the surrounding clusters simply don’t correspond to the coordinates of any known starfield.”

Although Harvey was mentally prepared for this, his heart still sank when he heard the Astrologer’s direct assessment.

A region of starry sky had suddenly appeared, torn from the cosmic space within his Mental Anchor… a starfield with coordinates that had never been observed in the real world…

All of this undoubtedly proved one thing to Harvey—the starry sky that had abruptly appeared in his Mental Anchor was not a projection of the current world, but most likely came from an unknowable, different spatial dimension.

“Are you one hundred percent certain?” Harvey, still not giving up, pressed on. “By what method do Astrology Mages record and collect the coordinates of all the stars in this world? Isn’t it possible that you might miss certain starfields that are difficult to observe?”

The Astrologer smiled and shook her head, as if she had anticipated such a question. She took a crystal-clear sphere from her storage ring.

“This is a Star Chart Recorder, a common auxiliary magic artifact exclusive to Astrology Mages…” Melissa tapped it lightly, infusing a small amount of mana into the crystal sphere, which immediately activated.

The crystal sphere instantly burst forth with a dazzling light, and a sparkling reflection of a starry sky appeared on the study’s ceiling.

As the Astrologer continued to channel mana into the sphere, the celestial projection above changed rapidly, flashing through one starfield after another, all with precisely recorded coordinates.

“The Star Chart Recorder is a resonant magic artifact. If any Astrology Mage records and collects new star coordinates and starfields, others can immediately perceive it through their own recorders…” Melissa paused for a moment, then stated with absolute certainty, “Therefore, I can confirm with one hundred percent certainty that since Astrology Mages began using recorders to collect star coordinates several hundred years ago, this star chart has never once appeared.”

Incredible! So, Astrology Mages had developed a magical version of a “database” long before he came along. It was a pity they had only applied this advanced technology to resonant artifacts like the Star Chart Recorder. What a waste of such forward-thinking tech.

Harvey sighed, took back the chart from the Astrologer, and fell silent.

Jin, who had been sitting to the side, could no longer hold back and asked, “Lord Harvey, who fabricated this star chart? Could it be that another Astrology Mage on the Forum tried to deceive you in a trade with a fake chart and projected prophecy?”

Harvey shook his head and explained with a grave expression:

“No. I perceived this when I was suddenly pulled into a state of deep meditation during my experiment just now…”

Chapter 354: Finding Answers on the Forum

Rashly analyzing an unknown star chart was an absolute taboo, one that every high-level Astrology Mage was required to strictly observe.

Any reckless attempt could not only cause the caster’s connected natal star to be corrupted, but it could also attract grotesque monsters from other dimensions. These creatures could use the star coordinates to lock onto the Spellcaster’s physical location, bringing about unpredictable and terrible disasters.

Harvey, of course, had no intention of forcing the Astrologer to take such a significant risk just to verify an experiment for him.

“No matter. I’m afraid the only way to get an answer to this question is to seek out those few Legendary Lords on the Forum…” Harvey waved his hand dismissively. “You two don’t need to worry about this. Go back and rest.”

…

After sending off his two high-level “bodyguards,” Harvey felt no desire to sleep. He left Astaren and Rainer to clean up the aftermath of the experiment in the underground laboratory while he went to his study alone and skillfully logged into the Spellcaster Forum.

The Magic Brain device in his study had been modified by Chris to connect directly to the Planet-level Energy-gathering Array underground. By simply putting on the metal headgear connected to the energy conduits, Harvey could swiftly channel his mental energy through the energy-gathering array and into the Forum’s “backend server.”

After all, the main operating module and virtual projection of the Spellcaster Forum had always existed in a symbiotic state within Harvey’s magical runes. And while it didn’t take up any of his spell circle slots, activating the “backend program” still required a large amount of pure mana as a catalyst.

After a familiar sensation of the world spinning, Harvey quickly entered the Forum’s “server,” a space composed of countless information streams and data modules. His mental projection rapidly coalesced and materialized, floating within this virtual Magic Net space.

With a single thought, the data modules in the “Forum server,” which had been moving and interacting according to set rules, and the runic information streams zipping back and forth all shuddered in unison. Sensing the command of their host, Harvey, they all gathered around him.

However, he was in no mood to spy on the information exchanges between Forum members. He directly issued a “search” command to the Living Source Codes, rapidly sifting through thousands upon thousands of pieces of data for content related to “star projection” and “star coordinates.”

One entry…

Two, three…

The “Source Codes” that hadn’t received a command consciously dispersed, leaving only three handpicked “lucky ones” to wiggle their way up to Harvey.

“Only three relevant results?” Harvey frowned, annoyed. “I remember the Astrologer isn’t the only Astrology Mage on the Forum… Could it be that this school of casting is too obscure, and not many high-level casters choose it as a secondary path?”

It seemed that when recruiting new members for the Forum in the future, he would have to make a point of selecting high-level Spellcasters from some “unpopular specializations.” Otherwise, it would be difficult to find professional experts to consult when encountering difficult research problems.

Harvey quickly scanned the three pieces of information and sighed in disappointment.

“I didn’t expect starlight magic to be even more conservative and traditional than the necromantic school. Apart from an endless stream of combat spells, their theoretical research and exploration are surprisingly lacking.”

Then again, it made sense. In the past, these mages served only the royalty and nobility of the southern kingdoms. On a typical day, they only needed to observe the movements of the stars to perform simple, shallow divinations. At the same time, they studied numerous combat spells to engage in the brutal struggles for worldly power, leaving them no time to settle down and conduct any experimental research.

Harvey gently pushed away the three “Source Codes” carrying the information and turned his gaze to the Forum’s backend space.

It was now past midnight, and not many members were still active on the Forum. Among the shimmering icons representing the members, the brightest and most dazzling one caught Harvey’s eye.

“Mr. Scorching Sovereign is trapped deep underground in the Mining Area of Araye. It seems he truly has nothing better to do, spending nearly twenty-four hours a day surfing the net at high intensity…”

…

[The Scorching Sovereign: You suddenly perceived a completely unknown otherworldly sky during deep meditation? Tsk, that sounds very wrong.]

Seeing this merciless jibe from the Chief, Harvey couldn’t help but give a wry smile and quickly gave a brief description of the situation with the Legendary necromantic artifact, Dead Man’s Afterglow.

[The Scorching Sovereign: I know of that artifact. Before the Federation was founded… back when the school of necromancy hadn’t yet declined, its existence was practically common knowledge among Legendary Casters.]

Of course, the artifact wasn’t famous for its own power, but for its original owner—the first Speaker of the Necromantic Cult, a true Legendary Lich.

He was also the last Legendary necromancer active in the casting circles of the south after the end of the Dragon War.

[Kel’Thuzad: It was the artifact’s strange properties that drew me in. I wanted to analyze its internal runic structure and spell model, which is what led to the celestial phenomenon I mentioned to you…]

[The Scorching Sovereign: Heh, my young friend! While I’m well aware of your abilities, on this matter, I must still remind you to be cautious… Ancient artifacts passed down from antiquity, even for a high-rank research-type Spellcaster, should not be analyzed lightly, especially before you’ve fully understood their origins.]

A Spellcaster’s fervent thirst for knowledge was certainly a powerful aid in their pursuit of truth, but the price of such fervor and boldness was plain to see. In the century since the Federation’s founding alone, the percentage of research-type Spellcasters who had died in magical experiments exceeded even that of battle mages killed in the Evil Moon Mountain Range.

[The Scorching Sovereign: However… if you’re truly determined to get to the bottom of this, I have an old friend who also practices starlight magic. I can contact him for you and have him try to help you analyze that dangerous, otherworldly star chart.]

Harvey hadn’t expected the other man to suddenly change his tune and offer him a sliver of hope. His spirits immediately lifted—the reason he insisted on analyzing the celestial phenomenon caused by Dead Man’s Afterglow was his persistent feeling that the star projection had to be connected to the true self projected by the Legendary magic artifact: the Sanctum of the Dead.

Perhaps the coordinates, once deciphered, could help him pinpoint the true location of the Sanctum of the Dead.

[Kel’Thuzad: That would be wonderful, Lord Chief. Regardless of whether the star chart analysis is successful, I will pay you and your friend a satisfactory reward.]

[The Scorching Sovereign: Heh heh, you can negotiate his payment with him directly. As for my share… shouldn’t you be asking the Forum on my behalf when I’ll finally be able to leave this mind-numbingly boring mine?]

Chapter 355: A Population Strategy

“The joint forces of the Grand Duke of St. Valen and the Radiant Church have suffered repeated setbacks in small-scale skirmishes with Da’ers…”

“Goris has begun a massive conscription drive in the name of the Papal State from the surrounding vassal duchies. The Spear of Radiance Judgment Legion, stationed at the Isengard border, appears to intend to march on the central south…”

“The royal family of the Barkley Duchy is split into two factions over whether to answer the Pope’s summons. Many of the great feudal nobles under their rule have decided to independently dispatch troops to reinforce St. Valen, which is tantamount to openly opposing the Federation.”

“The Church has begun dispatching Demon Slayers in large numbers to assassinate the leaders of Spellcaster organizations within the seven wizard kingdoms who have openly opposed restarting the civil war and accused the Church of breaking the pact. The number of leaders killed in these attacks is currently unknown…”

Harvey furrowed his brow, his heart growing heavy as he read the endless stream of messages from various factions and small groups on the Spellcaster Forum.

A full-scale civil war between the Federation of Casters and the Radiant Church was, he feared, truly on the verge of breaking out.

It wasn’t just the Forum that was abuzz during this time. Even the major merchant guilds that maintained close cooperation with Harvey seemed to have caught wind of the tense situation in the central south. They constantly sent him friendly reminders and expressed their concerns about future business collaborations.

After all, apart from arms dealers and human traffickers, no commercial organization welcomed war. It would not only destroy the sales networks they had painstakingly built but also sever the already less-than-convenient shipping routes.

“My lord, the secret police have sent back news from southern St. Valen.” Astaren held a stack of transcribed intelligence reports, detailing the results of their recent intelligence work.

“Outside of the capital, Goldshine City, the lords are conscripting soldiers and levying taxes at will. As a result, large numbers of commoners in the southern region have been displaced, fleeing military service and taxation…”

In addition, the Grand Duke on the border of the neighboring Barkley Duchy had suddenly sent troops across the border, launching a punitive expedition in the name of the Church against several feudal lords in southern St. Valen who had previously remained neutral. Silverpine City and Black Mountain Port had been destroyed in the fighting, and a vast number of surrounding fields and farmsteads lay derelict. With the bitter cold of winter setting in, the price of already scarce food had skyrocketed, and the once strictly forbidden slave trade had become active again.

Although it hadn’t been long since he’d established his intelligence network, and the experience and abilities of his trained secret police were varied, the use of the Magic Brain device had greatly guaranteed the timeliness and accuracy of information delivery.

Harvey knew the ways of these feudal lords all too well. Even if the flames of war didn’t reach their borders, they would use the conflict as a pretext to impose exorbitant taxes and levies. They would also seize the opportunity to settle old scores with neighboring lords, using the conscription summons as an excuse to carry out personal vendettas.

One could say that even before the civil war had truly begun, the friction and conflicts among the lesser nobles had already ground the local populace into misery.

“Relying solely on the secret police to secretly spread information and guide people to flee to the border of Grizzly Bear Territory is far too inefficient…” Harvey murmured to himself, rubbing his fingers together.

Astaren cleared his throat and reminded him, “The cooperating merchant guilds are also doing their best to publicize our recruitment policies, but with little effect. Most people are unwilling to uproot their families for a long-distance migration in such a cold winter. The risks along the way are too great.”

Harvey nodded in agreement, rose, and walked to the wall where a map of St. Valen was hung. He picked up a thick piece of charcoal and quickly sketched a winding black line, which overlapped with the Ralph River that originated in the Spine of the Continent Mountains and flowed through the entire St. Valen Duchy.

Astaren’s mind was sharp. He immediately asked, “Are you planning to use river transport to directly absorb and transfer the population?”

“Exactly. The source of the Ralph River is on the edge of Grizzly Bear Territory, but the river is only deep enough for boats from Grizzly Keep onwards. The further downstream it goes, the wider it becomes. It flows through Three-Forks Town, where it heads west to Goldshine City and south straight to Black Mountain Port…”

Harvey drew a circle around Three-Forks Town with the charcoal and said grimly, “If we dispatch troops by boat from Grizzly Keep, we can reach here in just a day and a half. If we establish a population reception and transit station here, we can completely open up a transport channel to bring people from the south.”

The section of the Ralph River north of Three-Forks Town is almost completely frozen solid in winter, making fishing and boating nearly impossible… unless, like Harvey, one possesses sturdy steel icebreakers. With magical-powered devices, they can maintain high speeds even when traveling upstream.

Considering that Astaren was a “Northern Realm-er” through and through, whose understanding of the situation in the south was even less than that of Harvey, a research geek, they immediately summoned Durt, who was familiar with the internal affairs of St. Valen.

Durt had a decisive and efficient personality. After understanding Harvey’s intentions, he explained frankly, “My Lord, Three-Forks Town is located within the fief of Grand Duke Ralph… That’s right, the very same Ralph family for whom the Ralph River is named. He resides in Fengyuan City, west of Three-Forks Town. His fiefdom is several times larger than the Fegan family’s Grizzly Bear Territory.”

Grand Duke Ralph is a loyalist who followed the Grand Duke of St. Valen in founding the nation over a hundred years ago. He is also one of the largest feudal lords in St. Valen. Although his relationship with the Radiant Church has always been lukewarm, he still responded to the Grand Duke’s summons this time by dispatching a mixed force of nearly two thousand regular knights and mercenaries.

“Sending such a large force, wouldn’t His Lordship the Grand Duke’s rear be left vulnerable?” Harvey asked curiously.

Durt shook his head with a wry smile. “Compared to the two or three hundred elite knights under Earl Fegan, this Duke Ralph is no mere showman. At least half of his Fengyuan Knightly Order are extraordinary knights with bloodline talents. His family also supports a number of quite powerful independent Spellcasters, forming a council of Mage advisors.”

And these Spellcasters employed by nobles and royalty mostly come from noble families themselves. They would never side with the Federation because of their beliefs; remaining neutral would be considered a moderate stance.

Harvey nodded and said calmly, “I see. Bloodline knights and Spellcaster advisors… The armed forces of the nobility all have the same, simple composition. Earl Fegan was like this, and so is Duke Ralph.”

He turned to Rainer, who had just arrived, and ordered, “Notify the Industrial Department. Immediately send people to Grizzly Keep… I want a barge dock and a shipbuilding workshop completed within a week.”

Durt already understood the Lord’s plan to head south with the steel icebreakers, but hearing him only now give the order to build a dock and shipyard at Grizzly Keep still left him a bit confused.

“My lord, you’re… only starting to build the dock and shipyard now? Are you planning to make a move against Duke Ralph after spring arrives?”

Harvey burst out laughing at the young Spellcaster’s question. Rainer and Astaren exchanged a glance and explained in unison with a smile, “A concrete dock can be built within a week. As for shipbuilding… with all the ship components already cast in advance, they just need to be transported over, assembled, and welded on-site. At full capacity, a ship can be launched in three days!”

The steel icebreakers had long since achieved modular mass-production. All the parts were already manufactured and stored in warehouses. Assembling a finished ship was not much more complicated than putting together building blocks.

Chapter 356: The Transport Tunnel

The following afternoon, Harvey, having just finished lunch and preparing to return to his bedroom to rest, was intercepted on the spot by a hurried Astaren.

“My lord, one of my subordinates, a secret police agent sent to Black Mountain Port, has sent an urgent report.” Astaren handed a transcribed message to Harvey. “His original mission was to secretly spread information around Black Mountain Port and recruit commoners with the help of a cooperating local merchant guild… As it turned out, by chance he made contact with a slave-trading caravan active in the south.”

Astaren sighed and continued, “This young man is too rash. Wanting to gather a group of refugees and return north as quickly as possible, he struck a deal with the slave-trading caravan for twenty silver coins a head, buying five hundred refugees they had trafficked.”

Whoa! A deal involving illegal human trafficking of this scale… they actually dared to go through with it.

Harvey couldn’t help but ask, “A transaction worth several hundred gold pounds… why would the slavers trust him? I recall the operational funds allocated to the secret police aren’t exactly plentiful.”

“Indeed. This young man, named Mueller, is incredibly audacious. He actually used Earl Fegan of Grizzly Bear Territory’s name to write them an IOU… Back when we were forging their identities, you personally instructed Earl Fegan to provide some legitimate identification papers for the secret police to use…”

Harvey nodded in understanding, unable to resist praising him. “Though he acted rashly, he’s certainly quick-witted and has excellent adaptability… Since secretly spreading information to recruit refugees isn’t very effective, perhaps buying the trafficked commoners from the hands of human traffickers isn’t a bad idea after all.”

He paused, then continued to ask, “So, how do you plan to escort these five hundred people back?”

Astaren gave a wry smile. “Mueller’s thinking was almost identical to yours, my lord. He originally planned to use his connections with the local cooperating merchant guild to lease three cargo ships and transport the people back along the Ralph River…”

They only needed to travel from Black Mountain Port to Three-Forks Town. North of there, the frozen river was no longer navigable, so they would have to switch from water to land transport.

The problem arose at this very transfer point on their journey north. The feudal Baron of Three-Forks Town had somehow caught wind of the situation. Learning that a fleet sailing under the banner of Earl Fegan of Grizzly Bear Territory would be disembarking at his town’s wharf, he immediately took his men and detained Mueller’s entire party, ships and all. On a whim, he decided to levy a hefty “Population Mobility Tax” on them.

“The Baron of Three-Forks Town is backed by Grand Duke Ralph, so he has no respect for the Earl of Grizzly Bear Territory. I already sent a letter to Earl Fegan to inquire… The two sides have always had friction over shipping and freight matters. Three-Forks Town has always had a stranglehold on Grizzly Bear Territory’s access to the Ralph River.”

Harvey couldn’t help but find it amusing. They had used Earl Fegan’s name as a front to deceive the human traffickers, only to end up taking the fall for the old feud between Earl Fegan’s family and the Baron of Three-Forks Town. Now, Earl Fegan was probably hoping Harvey would immediately dispatch troops to Three-Forks Town and give that bewitched baron a little military shock.

“I didn’t expect that in the end, it would be Earl Fegan’s turn to use a public matter for private revenge, using our banner to intimidate others for his own benefit.”

Harvey shook his head. “Have Earl Fegan send a letter to Three-Forks Town. First, stabilize the situation and ensure the basic safety of our personnel… In a week, we’ll dispatch the two new icebreakers launched at Grizzly Keep to Three-Forks Town to rescue them!”

…

This young secret police agent named Mueller seemed to have landed Harvey in huge trouble, but by a strange twist of fate, he had also inspired Harvey with a new method of recruitment.

“Rainer, immediately send letters to the Dragonstone Merchant Guild, the Andrew Merchant Guild, and the Harol Merchant Guild… Have them coordinate with the secret police we send to make contact with active local human traffickers.”

Rainer and Astaren exchanged a glance, asking in surprise, “My lord, are we really planning to buy people directly from slave traders?”

The Steward’s alchemical brain immediately began high-speed calculations. In less than half a minute, he spoke in a pained tone, “Even with the civil war in St. Valen and the winter food shortages causing a sharp drop in the price of human trafficking recently… buying people from these black marketeers, who are already engaged in illegal business, will still require a large sum of money.”

Harvey shook his head with a wry smile. “Gold pounds and silver coins sitting in the territory’s treasury serve no real purpose. We are not like those greedy, short-sighted nobles in the south. A fresh labor force is what’s most valuable.”

A price of twenty silver coins for a commoner serf isn’t exactly cheap. It’s mainly because Mueller and his men were too hasty and didn’t properly negotiate the price down with the traffickers. After all, dealing in human lives is different from dealing in commodities. Merchandise left on your hands won’t get sick, die, or randomly escape, and it certainly doesn’t consume precious, high-priced winter grain. Anyone would want to offload such a liability as quickly as possible.

“We can purchase young serfs at the standard price of twenty silver coins, but we also need the elderly and children. Just try to push their price down to the absolute minimum. I believe those traffickers would be desperate for us to take these burdens off their hands; they might even be willing to throw them in for free.”

Rainer asked cautiously, “So… how many serfs are we planning to purchase this time?”

Harvey smiled. “You and Astaren are much better at this numbers game than I am. The budget is twenty thousand gold pounds… How many people you can buy from the south of St. Valen will depend on your masterful strategy…”

…

Buying people with money was just a desperate measure born from the urgency of the situation.

Gathering as much population for the pioneer territories as possible right before the civil war fully erupted was naturally the best option. But after the war began, vast numbers of refugees would also flee their homes due to the spreading conflict. That was when the propaganda offensive Harvey had previously laid the groundwork for would immediately take effect.

Compared to fleeing to foreign lands outside of St. Valen, Grizzly Bear Territory, though located in the more remote northern borderlands, was at least still within the country, which gave people a greater sense of security.

Moreover, they had the endorsement of Earl Fegan, the nominal great lord of the border, who promised to provide refugees and serfs migrating there with a job to sustain their livelihood, ensuring their future wouldn’t be uncertain or their survival left to chance.

But Harvey hadn’t forgotten the most crucial task at hand—once the population of the barren lands increased significantly, food shortages would inevitably arise.

After the war broke out in full, he would likely lose the opportunity to import large quantities of grain from the south. The grain trade, firmly controlled by merchant guilds and nobles, would certainly see prices marked up at every level.

“Notify Engineer Corps Chief Pepp at the Northern Slope Base to come see me!” Harvey slapped his forehead and ordered a personal guard in the study.

Astaren was a bit confused. “The Northern Slope Base? My lord, is there a problem with the underground Energy Ranch?”

Harvey raised his hand and pointed to the regional map spread across his desk. In the center was the Eastern River Valley Basin Plain, surrounded by mountains. This was a fertile, untouched land that had always troubled them, as they hadn’t known how to begin its development.

“I’ve thought about this for a long time and have finally decided to launch the development plan for the Eastern Basin before spring arrives…”

Harvey picked up a charcoal pencil and drew a thick, vertical line straight through the mountain range lying between the east coast of the pioneer territories and the basin plain. “I plan to use the Living Tunneling Machine to bore directly through this mountain range and excavate a straight, one-and-a-half-kilometer-long underground tunnel. It will serve as the main transport artery connecting the pioneer territories and the basin plain!”

Chapter 357: The Caliber of Justice

Despite the biting winter cold, the newly appointed Earl Fegan, Trevor Fegan, still made the arduous journey between Grizzly Keep and the pioneer territories with tireless frequency. He found an excuse to visit the barren lands for several days almost every month.

On one hand, of course, life in the Northern Barren Lands was more… comfortable and luxurious than he had anticipated. This was true of everything from the houses that remained perpetually warm indoors to the wide variety of peculiar and novel specialty foods—after all, even for a border Earl, indulging in a wide array of fine foods and wines during winter, when resources were scarce and trade was impeded, was quite a luxury.

But Earl Fegan was no foolish noble concerned only with pleasure. Ever since pledging fealty to Harvey, the new Earl had not only thoroughly purged the Fegan family from within, severely punishing those family members who still harbored dissent, but had also actively courted the vassal nobles under his rule, persuading them to completely side with Harvey and support this “King of the Frontier.”

Of course, Harvey had also rewarded the Earl’s proactive attitude in a timely manner—the Fegan family’s mining areas had all been equipped with magical energy mining machines before winter set in, increasing the efficiency of coal and iron extraction several times over. At the same time, Harvey had allocated a portion of the sales shares for certain specialty products from the pioneer territories to the Fegan family’s merchant guilds, allowing them to take a handsome slice of the pie from the other major merchant guilds at the recent trade fair in the barren lands.

All these actions undoubtedly made Earl Fegan and all the vassal nobles under his rule understand one thing: as long as they sincerely submitted to this powerful lord of the barren lands, they could almost immediately reap tangible benefits. Compared to the high-ranking royals of the past, who were experts at making empty promises, their new “King” used real gold and silver as rewards for loyalty.

“My lord Earl, where do you plan to amuse yourself today?” a member of the Lord’s personal guard asked with a smile, bowing to Earl Fegan. He proactively suggested, “Although the weather is cold, it hasn’t snowed these past few days. Would the Earl be interested in going hunting outside the city? This season is a great opportunity to hunt tundra giant bears!”

Earl Fegan gathered the bear-pelt cloak he had recently purchased from a high-end tailor in the Market District and replied helplessly, “I don’t possess the formidable strength of you Bloodline Warriors. Even if I went hunting, I’d just be a spectator. What fun would there be in that? Besides… aren’t I already wearing a tundra bear pelt right now?”

The several personal guard warriors dispatched by Harvey himself were, in name, there to protect the Earl’s personal safety. But everyone knew they also had the task of monitoring Earl Fegan, constantly reminding him not to go where he shouldn’t and not to ask about things he shouldn’t.

“I wonder if the Lord is free today? I would like to have an audience with him personally to report on recent matters…” Although Earl Fegan had been turned away several times, he hadn’t given up and repeatedly requested an audience every time he came to the pioneer territories.

The personal guard warrior gave a helpless smile and was just about to refuse the request again when two other guards suddenly entered from outside the hotel. “My lord Earl, the Lord invites you to the Dock District after lunch to observe the test firing of a new weapon. I wonder if you would be interested?”

“Of course!” Earl Fegan replied without a second thought, before the other had even finished speaking. “Of course I’m interested! Please, lead the way!”

The guard chuckled and waved his hand. “No rush, no rush. After lunch means after lunch. The Lord is accustomed to resting for an hour after his meal. Please wait a short while.”

…

It was nearly three in the afternoon before Earl Fegan finally saw Lord Harvey in the Dock District. Harvey looked drowsy and was wrapped in a thick fur robe. The Earl quickly put on an obsequious smile and went up to greet him.

“My Lord! Your invitation to observe the new weapon today is a tremendous honor for me…”

Harvey waved his hand and said nonchalantly, “It’s nothing. I just happened to remember you were still in the territory, so I called you over to have a look…”

He then nodded to Chris, who was waiting at the side. The head of the Alchemy Laboratory immediately stepped forward and began to ramble on, explaining the general situation of the new weapon about to be tested.

“This is a new weapon developed by the Alchemy Laboratory in cooperation with the territory’s munitions factory. Based on the original design of the Magical-Powered Cannon, this is the all-new Magical Energy Naval Cannon!”

Chris whipped off the tarp beside him, revealing the new weapon’s true form—its metal barrel was longer than the Magical-Powered Cannon’s, and its entire body was smooth with a silver-gray sheen. The components at the breech were more complex in design; besides the slots for mounting brackets, there was also a bottom-loading ammunition chamber and two tubular mechanisms, one long and one short.

“Compared to the Magical-Powered Cannon, the Magical Energy Naval Cannon has multiple technical improvements. It can be directly fixed onto city walls as a defense cannon, with a wider firing arc… At the same time, its primary use is to be mounted on the steel Icebreaker, allowing for mobile fire coverage in coordination with the ship’s high-speed movement…”

Earl Fegan listened, stunned and confused. He couldn’t help but surreptitiously turn his head, only to find that the other young nobles invited to watch the test firing also wore dazed expressions. They could understand every single word in the string of weapon descriptions, but when strung together, the meaning was completely incomprehensible.

Fortunately, everyone was good at putting on a show. Despite understanding nothing, they still led a round of applause, making Harvey wonder if these country bumpkin nobles actually understood or were just pretending to.

“Ahem,” Harvey cleared his throat, feeling a little awkward. “Then let’s not waste any more time. Let’s proceed with the test firing!”

Chris nodded in agreement. The two technicians beside him immediately sprang into action, picking up an alchemical communicator from the side and muttering a message into it.

Then, the Icebreaker, which had been moored on the wide river, let out several loud chuffs and spewed thick plumes of white steam from its top. It slowly sailed toward their section of the river. As it passed the center of the channel, the sailors on board skillfully dropped a long string of huge red buoy targets, which floated sparsely about a thousand meters from the riverbank.

After receiving another signal from the ship, the two gunners on the shore began to operate the magical naval cannon with practiced coordination. One of them pushed open the chamber door at the cannon’s breech, and the other immediately shoved a silver, pointed iron canister into the barrel, then closed the chamber.

“Report! Shell loaded!”

“Aiming complete!”

“Safety off!”

“Ready to fire! Awaiting command!”

Chris turned to his lord, indicating that he should give the command personally.

Harvey nodded. “Everyone, cover your ears… Fire!”

Before the crowd could snap out of their daze and follow Harvey’s instruction to cover their ears, a tremendous roar suddenly exploded beside them!

Earl Fegan felt his head buzz, and the world around him seemed to fall silent, leaving only the violent thumping of his own heart and his slightly trembling breath.

A ball of orange-red flame erupted from the muzzle of the metal cannon, far more dazzling and blinding than the fire from the Magical-Powered Cannon he had witnessed before. The dock beneath his feet seemed to tremble for a moment, and a blast of hot air washed over him, causing him to stumble back two steps in an undignified manner. A personal guard behind him placed a hand on his back, saving him from the embarrassment of falling on his rear.

The magical naval cannon itself seemed to lurch backward from the force of the shot, but it quickly and smoothly returned to its original position.

Harvey removed two cotton wads from his ears and turned to say something to Earl Fegan, but the earl, his face pale, just shook his head. His mind was ringing. It took a full half-minute before he could faintly make out his lord’s words. “Are you alright? Didn’t I tell you to cover your ears?”

Earl Fegan opened and closed his mouth, shook his head in a fluster, and stood on his toes to look out at the targets on the river… The targets were gone. No, wait! There had been a long string of buoy targets on the river. Where had they all gone?

Chris quickly answered everyone’s unspoken question. “This new weapon can project magical energy shells to strike distant enemies, just like the Magical-Powered Cannon. But we’ve made some damage improvements—upgrading from single-point impact damage to wide-area coverage damage!”

Harvey picked up a spyglass and observed the river surface, then asked, “Is a thousand meters the basic range?”

“Correct. The maximum firing range can reach three thousand meters, but if we fired from that far away, we wouldn’t be able to observe the effect of the bombardment.”

Chris continued with a proud air, “Following the concept and inspiration provided by the Lord, we’ve added Dragon’s Flame powder to the magical energy shells. Although it causes a tremendous noise upon firing, the shell’s area-of-effect damage has been increased several times over!”

This was the power of a magical bursting shell!

Chapter 358: Magical Bursting Shell

Before long, the second round of test firing began.

This time, Earl Fegan and the young noble students plugged their ears in advance, only to discover that it wasn’t the cannon on the dock being tested. Instead, a deafening roar erupted from the armored icebreaker that had earlier sailed from the river channel into the deep-water area of the dock.

Due to the distance of several dozen meters, although the metal cannon mounted on the ship still produced an earth-shattering sound, it at least didn’t shake the crowd off their feet.

The armored ship’s magical naval cannon was clearly less stable than the one on the fixed mount at the dock. After firing, its recoil actually caused the incredibly heavy hull to rock slightly. The cannon barrel itself was thrown back by the force before quickly and precisely resetting.

It was still a two-man operation: open the rear chamber, load the pointed shell, close the chamber, disengage the safety, aim, and fire…

This cycle repeated, completing five rounds of high-speed direct fire within three minutes. The targets were fixed markers on the far bank of the river at a greater distance. Earl Fegan could feel a shell being unleashed with thunderous fury every half a minute. The frozen earth and accumulated snow on the opposite bank were violently thrown into the air time and again. The targets had been completely obliterated by the second shot, and the subsequent shots were so fast that it was impossible for the naked eye to track their trajectory.

Judging by the interval between hearing the cannon’s report and seeing the dust and smoke rise on the other side, Earl Fegan concluded that even an elite bloodline knight with superb mobility would be unable to evade its attack range.

He looked back at the group of noble students behind him and saw them staring blankly at the massive metal cannon, the fear and fervor in their eyes impossible to hide.

Compared to what the previous Earl Fegan had faced… if Lord Harvey had used this even more powerful new weapon against the noble coalition army… he doubted these young men’s families would have had the chance to ransom their elders with money and pledges of fealty.

They’d be lucky to even recover a whole body for burial!

“This… is this a weapon jointly developed by Spellcasters and Alchemists?” After a long while, Earl Fegan swallowed hard and asked cautiously.

The answer, however, greatly surprised all the nobles present.

“Where would I find so many Spellcasters and Alchemists?” Harvey said with a chuckle. “This is the masterpiece of both magic and ordinary workers. The Alchemists are only responsible for mixing the ammunition and enchanting the cannons… The smelting and casting of the cannon barrels were all handled by technicians from the steelworks.”

Earl Fegan’s heart skipped a beat as a terrifying thought surfaced.

“This thing… can be mass-produced in a workshop?”

…

Throughout the continuous test firing, Commander Pierce stood to the side, watching with a look of equal fervor.

Unlike the short-sighted nobles from the south, as the commander-in-chief of the army, he could more keenly appreciate the power and utility of this new naval cannon. Once mounted on armored icebreakers, the primary problem of the old Magical-Powered Cannons being too heavy and difficult to transport would be solved.

Mobile covering fire, a longer strike distance, enhanced area-of-effect damage…

He was almost certain that with a fleet of armored ships equipped with more than ten of these naval cannons, they could sail downstream from Grizzly Keep’s docks and bombard their way all the way to Goldshine City in St. Valen, the capital.

Seizing the opportunity while the crowd was murmuring amongst themselves, Pierce quickly walked over to Chris and asked in a low voice, “What’s the production rate of this new type of shell? The three armored ships currently in service—how many new naval cannons can each one be equipped with?”

Chris was taken aback for a moment, but faced with the urgent questioning from the commander-in-chief, he answered honestly, “Uh… after mixing in the Dragon’s Flame powder, the shells require a lot less liquid magical energy, but… since this is a test firing, we’ve only rushed to produce a small batch of shells. The round we just fired has already used up about half of them.”

Upon hearing this, Pierce felt a chill colder than a Northern Realm winter. He grabbed Chris’s arm and urged, “Quick, persuade the Lord to stop the test firing! Heavens, my heart is bleeding.”

In truth, Harvey was also feeling the sting. Each expensive, low-production shell fired felt like a piece of his own flesh being torn away. He was only enduring it to put on a show for this group of southern nobles.

It was absolutely necessary to flex his muscles and display his ever-growing military strength in public.

The test of the new weapon went very smoothly, its power and effect were ideal. He believed that this group of noble students and Earl Fegan himself would etch today’s unforgettable scene deep into their hearts, forever dispelling any thoughts of mischief or rebellion.

…

After the weapon test concluded, Harvey, for the first time, invited Earl Fegan to join him for dinner.

And after witnessing the afternoon’s events, the Earl’s attitude was markedly more humble than before; he even spoke much less.

“Your Lordship didn’t come all the way to the barren lands just to purchase some Icefield Vodka, did you?” Harvey asked nonchalantly while they ate. “I recall the exclusive vodka shop in Grizzly Keep is already open for business.”

The Earl hastily put down his knife and fork, wiped his mouth, and got straight to the point. “My Lord, I actually came to inquire about… your military plans concerning Three-Forks Town… I just hadn’t found a suitable opportunity for you to grant me an audience.”

Harvey nodded, giving a noncommittal response. “You just need to cooperate with the construction of Grizzly Keep’s dock and shipyard. You don’t need to worry about much else…”

Earl Fegan rubbed his hands together in embarrassment and said eagerly, “As a feudal earl who has formally pledged fealty to you, I… I would like to request that I be allowed to dispatch my family’s elite knights and mercenaries to fight for you across the border in the Three-Forks Town campaign!”

He paused, as if remembering something, and quickly added, “The other feudal lords of Grizzly Bear Territory are also eager to fight for you. At the very least, after swearing fealty to you, give us a chance to prove our loyalty.”

When a shark hunts, there is always a school of smaller fish in a symbiotic relationship with it, eagerly swimming around, hoping to get some scraps of meat when the shark tears its prey apart.

“Elite knights and mercenaries…” Harvey chuckled softly. “To be honest, my army and gunships don’t seem to need that level of assistance…”

Of course, Earl Fegan understood that compared to magical cannons and armored ships, the meticulously trained knights and armed mercenaries in the hands of nobles were no different from paper. But having Harvey state it so bluntly still made him feel deeply ashamed.

“However, everyone’s attitude is commendable…” Harvey changed the subject, taking the initiative to soothe the Earl’s feelings. “Although your assistance isn’t needed for the main combat operations, the logistics and supply lines along the way, as well as the subsequent population transfers, will require those of you familiar with the surrounding noble territories to maneuver flexibly on my behalf…”

“After taking Three-Forks Town, who does Your Lordship think I should dispatch to temporarily manage this important river port for me?”

Earl Fegan’s body trembled. He looked up, his expression slightly excited, and met Harvey’s gaze.

Chapter 359: The Battle Plan

Three days later, Harvey arrived at Grizzly Keep with Earl Fegan.

This was his first time returning to the south since moving to the Northern Barren Lands three years ago. The Fegan family and a host of vassal nobles were waiting early outside Grizzly Keep to welcome the arrival of their new lord.

Accompanying Harvey this time was a battalion of Northern Army soldiers. They were responsible for rotating the Northern Army troops originally stationed in Grizzly Keep and also for the external combat mission south to Three-Forks Town.

The troop rotation was naturally handled by the subordinate battalion officers. Harvey, leading Commander Pierce and his entourage, declined Earl Fegan’s invitation to the Earl’s manor and went straight to the City Guard command post, which had been converted into Grizzly Keep’s City Hall.

“According to reliable sources, after the Baron of Three-Forks Town detained our people, it seems he has no intention of releasing them until he receives payment.” Harvey sat in the seat of honor in the City Hall, looking down at the crowd of officials and nobles. “Such actions, whether born from the old feud with the Fegan family or from a sudden whim of greed, will undoubtedly require a price to be paid.”

He gestured to Earl Fegan, who was seated below him. “Given Your Lordship’s understanding of the Baron of Three-Forks Town’s family, will they make preparations in advance to guard against a sudden attack from us?”

Earl Fegan was clearly prepared. As soon as Harvey asked, he immediately stood up and spoke eloquently.

“My Lord, from what I know, the Baron of Three-Forks Town is neither intelligent nor pragmatic. Otherwise, Grand Duke Ralph wouldn’t have passed him over when drafting for war. This incompetent baron, who got his position purely through connections, doesn’t even have a single formed cavalry unit under his command.”

“Oh? He doesn’t even have vassal knights?” Harvey asked, surprised. “Isn’t he a legitimate hereditary baron?”

A minor noble whose family was in the shipping trade stepped forward and answered with a tone of disdain and resentment, “My Lord, this fellow used to be nothing more than the river transport tax collector in Three-Forks Town. It wasn’t until his sister became Grand Duke Ralph’s fifth wife that he was suddenly granted the title of Baron. We’ve always mockingly called him the ‘Watchdog Baron’…”

It was no wonder. A titular noble like him, with no farmland of his own, couldn’t possibly maintain the dignity of a baron without extorting every passing traveler. Guarding a major river transport hub like Three-Forks Town, he could live lavishly just by fleecing a few passing merchant caravans.

After listening to the Grizzly Bear Territory nobles complain about him, Harvey’s grand mobilization of armored ships to head south for Three-Forks Town suddenly seemed like using a sledgehammer to crack a nut.

…

After dismissing everyone, Harvey kept Commander Pierce behind.

In fact, he hadn’t revealed the true intelligence he possessed to the nobles of Grizzly Bear Territory—the Baron of Three-Forks Town was indeed a short-sighted fool, but Grand Duke Ralph was not.

Ever since the previous Earl Fegan and the joint forces sent by the Church were defeated on the border, Grizzly Bear Territory had fallen under the actual control of Harvey, the Mage Lord. This series of events had long ago alerted Grand Duke Ralph.

It was hard to say whether the Baron of Three-Forks Town’s sudden detention of people had been prompted or tacitly approved by Grand Duke Ralph. What was certain, however, was that the Grand Duke’s fleet and some of his elite knights had secretly gathered a week ago, and two days ago, they had set out from Fengyuan City, heading straight for Three-Forks Town.

“As for the land forces, we’ll leave them to those eager Grizzly Bear Territory nobles who volunteered… They won’t be much help anyway. If they can serve as a decoy, that’s good enough.” Harvey leaned over the map spread out on the table, discussing it with Pierce.

This was Pierce’s first time fighting in the south, and he had never experienced a two-pronged land and water campaign. He naturally wore a grave expression as if facing a great enemy. Before Harvey could even ask, he had already spent days repeatedly mulling over and discussing a battle plan with his subordinate officers.

“The Ralph River, at the fork near Three-Forks Town, is a suitable location for battle!”

Pierce pointed to a bend in the river upstream from Three-Forks Town and analyzed, “The armored ships only need to hold this position. From here, they can bombard the docks of Three-Forks Town to the south and directly intercept Grand Duke Ralph’s fleet on the river to the west.”

“Grand Duke Ralph’s forces are using sailing ships. It will take them about two more days to reach Three-Forks Town from Fengyuan City.” Harvey gave a direct order, “The Northern Army will set out tonight under the cover of darkness and arrive at the designated combat location by tomorrow evening.”

Pierce asked, puzzled, “We’re not waiting for the troops mobilized by the Grizzly Bear Territory nobles?”

Harvey shook his head and smiled. “It’s better if they lag behind. Let Grand Duke Ralph’s scouts mistakenly believe they can ambush us first.”

With their discussion concluded, Harvey patted Pierce’s shoulder. “It’s a shame I can’t sail south with you on the armored ships to command the Northern Army myself… This is our first naval battle, and a direct clash with a southern noble at that.”

Pierce thought Harvey’s words were a hint of his lack of confidence in his command abilities and quickly bowed. “My lord, please rest assured. I will command this operation and will certainly defeat Duke Ralph for you and seize control of Three-Forks Town!”

This unexpected verbal pledge of victory left Harvey not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

…

That night, at the docks outside Grizzly Keep.

Three fully-equipped armored icebreakers were moored quietly in the deep-water dock area. Bright torches lined the embankment as five hundred Northern Army soldiers stood in silent, neat formations, boarding the ships one by one under their officer’s command.

With three blasts from the steam whistles, the icebreakers’ magical-powered engines roared to full power. The sharp steel rams on their bows shattered the frozen surface of the river. Amidst a cringe-inducing screech of breaking ice, they picked up speed and sailed down the Ralph River.

Pierce stood at the bow of the first icebreaker, unfazed by the icy night wind. He replayed the battle plan his Lord had personally given him before their departure over and over in his mind.

“After reaching the designated combat position, first dispatch some soldiers to land on both banks of the river and establish defensive lines on both sides.”

“Once Duke Ralph’s fleet enters the ambush section of the river, use the high maneuverability of the icebreakers to execute a pincer movement on both flanks. After the three icebreakers form a triangular encirclement, commence a unified artillery barrage on the enemy.”

“If Duke Ralph’s fleet disregards casualties and insists on breaking through the encirclement to attempt a landing, the soldiers ambushing on the banks will immediately intercept them, turning them into live targets for the Magical Energy Guns on the exposed riverbanks.”

As for that incompetent baron holed up in Three-Forks Town… after they dealt with Duke Ralph’s elite knight fleet on the way, a few long-range cannonballs fired at Three-Forks Town would probably be enough to make a white flag of surrender rise over the town.

Right now, Pierce’s only worry was the five hundred serfs being held in Three-Forks Town. After nearly a week in the freezing cold with little food or clothing, he wondered how many healthy laborers would survive.

Chapter 360: The Raid on Three-Forks Town (Part 1)

With its magical-powered instruments running at full capacity, the armored icebreaker sped across the frozen river under the cover of night. From time to time, the crunching sound of the bow shattering thin sheets of floating ice could be heard.

South of Grizzly Keep, the river channel grew wider and wider. The winter moon shone down on the snow-covered riverbanks, reflecting enough light to guide the ships through the night, completely eliminating any worry of running aground or hitting a reef.

Although there were many villages and towns built along the river, on such a cold, deep winter night, no one noticed three ghostly, sailless ships gliding silently over the ice-strewn water.

The afternoon of the following day, the armored ships arrived at the designated operational location earlier than Harvey had anticipated.

Steam rose from the water’s surface, where only a few ice floes drifted. It was here that the Ralph River split into two tributaries—one flowing south toward Black Mountain Port, the other west past Fengyuan City, all the way to St. Valen’s capital, Goldshine City.

A light snow was falling from the sky, making visibility extremely poor across the entire three-forked section of the river.

After the ships docked, Pierce gathered all the mid- and low-ranking officers and began to swiftly lay out his plans.

“The enemy fleet is coming from the direction of Fengyuan City, so our main force needs to secure both banks,” he said, pointing at the unfurled map and sketching out the ambush positions. “Your mission is to prevent the enemy from abandoning their ships and landing, and also to cut off their retreat up the river. You’ll need to stay hidden, let them pass through first, then block their escape and finish them off…”

The force accompanying Pierce on this operation was the battalion led by Wayne, who naturally shouldered the main task of intercepting the enemy on both banks. “Commander, I don’t quite understand…”

Wayne scratched his head, looking puzzled. “There’s no problem with us setting an ambush on the banks, but if we just let the enemy fleet pass by, what if they don’t dock at all and head straight for Three-Forks Town?”

Pierce gave a cold smirk and took out three coins from his pocket to represent the three armored ships. He placed two of them right at the southern fork of the river, while the remaining one stayed at their current docked position.

“Two armored ships will block the southern channel. They won’t be able to get through…” Pierce then turned to the artillery group and gave a concise order, “Artillery Group Four will remain on the ships to man the naval cannons. The other four groups will go ashore with the ambush teams.”

With this arrangement, when the enemy fleet entered the three-way fork of the Ralph River, they would fall into a pre-laid, three-sided trap. Heading south would mean a direct confrontation with two armored ships. The northern channel might only be guarded by one armored ship, but heading upstream against the current would slow them down, making them easier targets for the artillery crews.

Of course, if the enemy rashly turned to flee or abandoned their ships to go ashore, the artillery crews ambushing them on both banks of the western channel would come into play. At such close range, they could hit the sailboats in the middle of the river with their eyes closed.

…

Unexpectedly, Grand Duke Ralph’s fleet arrived at the three-way fork half a day later than Pierce had anticipated. It wasn’t until dusk on the second day of their ambush that eight medium-sized sailboats slowly appeared in the western section of the river.

Upon receiving the news, Artillery Group Leader Lynx immediately issued a preparatory command to the shore-based artillery crews under his charge. The two artillery crews on each bank sprang into action.

“These guys are slower than turtles…” Wayne raised a spyglass, poking his head out of a trench on the riverbank to peer at the channel.

After landing and setting up their defensive positions, they had expected to see signs of the enemy early the next morning. Instead, their opponents had arrived late, forcing the soldiers to grit their teeth and wait for another half a day in the freezing trenches.

Artillery Chief Lynx sidled over and spoke to Wayne in a low voice, “If Commander Pierce gives the order, my shore crews can hit these turtles floating on the river right now. They’re so close, we don’t even need to aim carefully…”

Wayne rolled his eyes and snapped, “Who would dare to open fire without an order? Besides, we only have four cannons on the banks, and they have eight ships. Two of them are even sandwiched in the middle. No matter how powerful your shells are, can they pass clean through one ship to hit the one in the middle?”

Lynx scratched his head and chuckled awkwardly.

Compared to the ordinary Northern Army soldiers armed with Magical Energy Guns, the members of the artillery crews, who were already proficient in operating the Magical-Powered Cannons, were clearly more confident in their weapons. Ordinary soldiers constantly had to worry about their marksmanship and, in sudden encounters or ambushes, occasionally had to fix bayonets for close-quarters combat with the enemy. Such bloody and brutal fighting was a true test of their courage.

But it was different for the artillerymen. The formidable power of the Magical-Powered Cannons and their unique ability to inflict casualties from extreme distances had long since stripped them of the tension of battle. They only needed to repeat the regulation movements memorized during training: load the shells according to procedure, aim at the target according to procedure, open fire according to procedure, and then secure victory.

This was especially true during their rotations at the River Valley Outpost fighting the vile orcs. Even though the enemy consisted of strong, fearless humanoid beasts, they just had to remain atop the fortress walls, endlessly repeating the steps of loading and firing. A battle could be over in half an hour. The intensity and fatigue of combat were even less than a training march around their own territory.

…

“Received preparatory fire command!”

“Load ammunition!”

The shore artillery positions immediately became a hive of activity. They had practiced and performed the preparatory steps so many times that the gunners could stuff a shell into the chamber with their eyes closed. They could disengage the ammunition safety within five seconds, and without needing to consider the firing angle, they could complete a direct fire sequence in thirty seconds.

But Lynx was still waiting for the fire command from Commander Pierce, who was on the armored ship.

Grand Duke Ralph’s fleet had already sailed slowly past them, officially entering the three-way fork. Compared to the multi-masted sailing ships used at sea, these river sailboats were much smaller, with lower hulls. With the winter winds weakened, a team of sailors sat on each side of the deck, vigorously pulling on their oars.

Battalion commander Wayne was also growing anxious. “What’s going on?” he grumbled to Lynx in a low voice. “Does the Commander want us to just let them pass…”

Before he could finish, a tremendous boom suddenly shattered the calm of the river’s surface. Less than a few seconds later, two more muffled roars exploded like distant thunder.

The artillery crews on the armored icebreakers had opened fire first!

Wayne and Lynx simultaneously raised their spyglasses to lock onto the targets on the river, and then they could hardly believe their eyes. Two plumes of black smoke suddenly erupted on the deck of the enemy’s lead sailboat. Amidst the flash of fire, deck fragments and severed limbs were sent flying. The sailors, packed tightly together as they rowed, suffered catastrophic casualties from the bursting shells. Blood and entrails flowed freely across the entire deck.

Through his spyglass, Lynx clearly saw a knight in full armor get blown straight up onto the mast of a sail, though only his upper body remained.

“Ugh—” The artillery group leader couldn’t help but gag, earning a disdainful scoff from battalion commander Wayne beside him.

Chapter 361: The Raid on Three-Forks Town (Part 2)

After the sailors on the lead ship of Grand Duke Ralph’s fleet suffered heavy casualties, it immediately lost more than half of its forward momentum. The other ships behind it also slowed down, turning their bows to try and bypass the crippled lead vessel in the middle of the river.

However, the roar of exploding shells didn’t cease for a moment, booming again every half a minute. Each boom was accompanied by a great ball of fire erupting on an enemy ship. Before long, the towering mast of a ship stranded sideways in the middle of the river snapped with a crack, toppling over and crushing another vessel that was extremely close by.

A few horses tethered on the deck broke free of their restraints. In their intense panic, they knocked over several knights before finally plunging, splash after splash, into the bone-chilling river water.

The heavily damaged ship was completely paralyzed in the middle of the river. On the ships further back, heads bobbed as many gathered at the bows with bewildered expressions, seemingly having no idea what kind of attack they were facing.

At the same time, the artillery strike from the riverbanks followed.

The crowded decks immediately became rivers of blood. Nearly every shell that hit its mark exploded into a spray of blood mist amidst the enemy ranks, covering the deck in a thick paste of gore and flesh. Some who weren’t at the initial point of impact were immediately torn to pieces by high-velocity metal shrapnel and splinters from the deck, wailing in agony as they clutched their severed limbs and spilling guts.

Those who were lucky enough to avoid the shelling cared for nothing else. They threw down their heavy weapons and armor and jumped into the water, preferring to freeze to death in the bone-chilling river than to spend another moment on the hellish ship of fire and blood.

“And here I was, worried the enemy would ignore everything and charge straight through the fork towards the Three-Forks Town docks…” Wayne lowered his spyglass and muttered to himself. “I never expected that three armored ships, with just six Magical Energy Naval Cannons, could stop the enemy fleet right at the river fork.”

…

Compared to the ground forces observing from a distance on the riverbank, Commander Pierce, aboard the icebreaker, had a much more direct view of the battle.

The three armored ships were positioned to block the northern and southern forks of the river, their hulls turned sideways to bar the central channel. The two fixed Magical naval cannons at the bow and stern turned their muzzles, powered by winches, to face the enemy fleet approaching from the west.

The targets were no more than five hundred meters away. The gunnery groups on the ships methodically repeated the standard procedure of aiming and firing. In groups of four, they continuously fed pointed shells into the breech of the cannon barrels. Then, they disengaged the safety and pulled the firing mechanism, launching the shells—a mixture of Dragon’s Flame powder and iron shrapnel—with thunderous force.

Although he was commanding the battle from the cockpit in the mid-aft section of the ship, Pierce’s superhumanly sharp hearing was still tormented by the deafening roar of the cannons. He subconsciously raised a hand to tighten the cotton plugs in his ears and muttered to himself in confusion, “Compared to the Magical-Powered Cannons on the shore, these gunners seem to prefer the roaring Magical naval cannons… Don’t they hate this terrible noise?”

And after the shells mixed with Dragon’s Flame powder were fired, a strong, acrid smell spread throughout the ship, a strange metallic odor like sulfur mixed with rust, which secretly nauseated a Vampire like Pierce with his heightened senses.

As another cannon boomed, the heavy armored ship trembled slightly. In the blink of an eye, the shell became a black shadow, almost invisible to the naked eye, streaking straight toward an enemy vessel hundreds of meters away. It smashed a huge hole in the side of the ship’s hull, which was pieced together with wooden planks, before entering the cabin and detonating with a roar.

With his exceptional abilities, Pierce immediately saw a spray of debris mixed with flesh and severed limbs erupt from the hole in the ship’s side. It seemed the enemies hiding in the cabin had not been spared from the blast.

A gentle river breeze drifted by, carrying an overwhelmingly rich scent of blood. It gave Pierce the illusion that he was at a lavish banquet, the sweet aroma filling his mouth and nose.

His throat bobbed slightly as he gave a cold command, “Activate the magical energy drives. Approach the enemy fleet!”

…

Upon seeing the three strange, sailless ships sailing toward them from a distance, Grand Duke Ralph’s fleet also began to slowly move toward the riverbanks. They had evidently finally realized that the brutal attack they were suffering was coming from those three strange vessels. Seeing the enemy actively approaching, they were naturally desperate to get ashore and take cover.

The armored ships were far too fast. Trying to turn their battered sailing ships around and escape on the river was clearly impossible. Their only hope of survival was to gather their remaining soldiers and get to the riverbanks.

Unfortunately for them, as their ships recklessly ran aground on the riverbanks and they scrambled to abandon them and climb ashore, the Northern Army soldiers who had long been lying in ambush on both sides of the river immediately opened fire without mercy.

The long barrels of Magical Energy Guns were propped on the trench embankments. Casually aiming at a target dripping wet as they crawled out of the cold river, they easily pulled the triggers, and a rain of magical bullets poured down on the enemy.

On the bare riverbank with absolutely no cover, the enemies who had just thought they’d escaped to safety were cut down in swathes, like ears of wheat in a storm. The entire fleet’s forces collapsed into chaos. Those who had jumped off the ships to get ashore now wailed and tried to get back on, while those crowded on board trying to get off were now jammed at the rails, shouting angrily. Even more people, in their panic, simply turned around and dove back into the river, desperately swimming for the opposite bank.

The riverbank was a chaotic scene of flying flesh and blood, with men and horses falling everywhere.

The three armored icebreakers reached the middle of the river. The soldiers on board raised their Magical Energy Guns, leaned against the ship’s rails, and aimed their muzzles down to fire casually at the struggling enemies flailing in the water. Blossoms of blood bloomed and spread across the surface of the river.

Wayne emptied his third magazine and ordered with a blank expression, “That’s enough. Coordinate with the three icebreakers and sweep the battlefield… Round up all the enemies who were lucky enough not to be killed. Ignore the ones who are just lying on the ground gasping for breath. Don’t waste medicine on them.”

The soldiers swapped in fresh, full magazines, fixed sharp bayonets to their Magical Energy Guns, then leaped out of the trenches in neat formations and advanced on the few remaining survivors on the riverbank.

A young man, clearly dressed as an alchemy apprentice, stood beside Pierce on the ship. He was holding a notebook and writing rapidly, muttering nonstop to himself.

“‘Shrapnel shells and magical energy shells can both penetrate wooden hulls… Inflicting area-of-effect piercing damage. Effect: Excellent.’”

“‘However, neither type of shell can directly sink a medium-sized sailing ship. Even when the hull is riddled with holes like a sieve, it doesn’t sink immediately from taking on a large amount of water… Tsk tsk, the effect in this regard is poor.’”

Pierce asked, somewhat speechless, “What are you recording all this for? In a battle, don’t you just need to focus on the outcome, casualties, and ammunition consumption?”

The young alchemist smiled, closed his notebook, and bowed politely. “Lord Commander, this is a requirement from the Lord. Every time a new type of weapon is used in actual combat, we need to record its performance with strict accuracy. It facilitates future upgrades and improvements to the weapons and ammunition.”

Upgrades and improvements to weapons and ammunition… Could the Lord really create new weapons even more powerful than the repeating Magical Energy Guns and Magical Energy Naval Cannons?

Pierce felt his scalp tingle. If things continued to develop like this, would there come a day when he commanded an army in battle without even having the chance to fight the enemy face-to-face? A day when he could annihilate them from hundreds of miles away simply by mechanically operating these magical weapons?

Chapter 362: A “Peaceful” Handover

The cleanup of the battlefield continued until nearly midnight, only stopping because the nighttime temperatures dropped too low.

Three armored ships docked by the shore, and felt tents specially issued for winter combat were pitched on the riverbank. The wreckage of the enemy sailboats that had run aground during their charge was mercilessly torn apart, used entirely as fuel to warm the soldiers’ field camp.

After finishing the battlefield cleanup, the soldiers, following their officer’s orders, dispatched squads for night watch and patrol. Those who were free gathered in twos and threes around warm bonfires, taking out their issued canned food to heat by the fire, occasionally whispering about interesting moments from the day’s battle.

Wayne and an adjutant personally escorted two prisoners into Commander Pierce’s tent.

Before Pierce could even begin his questioning, one of them preemptively shouted, “I am Baron Scott! I demand to see the Lord of Grizzly Keep! I demand the respect and treatment due to a noble prisoner of war!”

The other quickly added, “I am Hansen Brick, the second son of Baron Brick. Please allow me to see the officer in charge from Grizzly Keep. We are willing to pay a ransom.”

Pierce frowned with some impatience and replied coldly, “The Lord of Grizzly Keep is not here. I am the supreme commander.”

He paused, then asked in a low voice, “Why did Grand Duke Ralph send troops to Three-Forks Town? Was the baron’s seizure of Grizzly Keep’s slave-trading caravan a direct order from him?”

The two exchanged a surprised glance. Baron Scott shifted his shoulders with difficulty. “We are merely noble knights who answered our lord’s summons to battle. The officer in charge was His Lordship the Duke’s nephew, but he has already been killed in action…”

“Dead?” Pierce raised his eyebrows in disappointment. “Seems your commander was quite unlucky. In that case, you two can answer my questions. How many elite knights does the Grand Duke have left in Fengyuan City? How many spellcaster advisors? What future plans does he have against Grizzly Keep… Just tell me everything you know. I have my ways of telling if you’re lying.”

Upon hearing this, Baron Scott immediately clamped his mouth shut, turning his head aside with a proud expression. The second son of Baron Brick, however, hesitated for a moment. “Lord Commander, we are all proper knights who have sworn fealty to the Grand Duke. We would never do anything to betray the knightly spirit and our oaths…”

“Oh…” Pierce chuckled dismissively. “Take them to the ship.”

After the soldiers had escorted the two away, he turned to Wayne and ordered, “You’ll have a tough night. Don’t sleep. Use those methods I taught you and interrogate these two noble knights thoroughly.”

Wayne was champing at the bit. “Are there any limits on the methods? Should we keep them alive for ransom?”

Pierce shook his head, his tone icy. “Before we left, the Lord told me not to worry about prisoners or ransoms. You just need to pry enough intelligence out of them.”

…

To Pierce’s surprise, the swift battle at the river mouth had also attracted the attention of the Baron of Three-Forks Town. Just as day was breaking, the soldiers patrolling outside the camp caught a group of scouts who had come to gather information.

After two who tried to flee were killed on the spot, the remaining three immediately tumbled off their horses, prostrating themselves in the snow and begging for mercy. They were then bound by the legs and dragged directly back to the riverside camp.

“I’ll let you go back to town and take a message to the Baron of Three-Forks Town.” Pierce ordered impatiently. “Tell that Lord Baron to release our caravan immediately and surrender all armed resistance. The fleet will arrive at the town docks this afternoon…”

As he spoke, he pointed to the pile of enemy corpses on the riverbank, ready to be burned, and added with a savage grin, “Of course, if you still decide to fight us, I don’t mind burning a few more bodies…”

The scouts looked on in absolute terror at the dead, wrapped in banners bearing the sigil of Grand Duke Ralph’s family, haphazardly piled in a disorderly heap. Most of the corpses were mutilated, as horrifying as if they had been chewed on by some massive demonic beast.

Without waiting for Pierce to urge them on, they abandoned even their horses and scrambled away in the direction of the town.

By afternoon, when the armored icebreaker slowly sailed to the Three-Forks Town docks, they found a squad of common soldiers in simple leather armor surrounding a middle-aged man in fine clothes, waiting nervously outside a shed on the docks.

“My lord! My lord!” The man in fine clothes seemed to have no sense of his own nobility. Guided by the scout who had delivered the message, he hurried before Pierce and threw himself to the ground, beginning to beg for mercy. “We haven’t harmed your caravan in the slightest! We only detained them on His Lordship the Grand Duke’s orders! We even cleared out three granaries to shelter them from the elements and boiled them wheat porridge to eat every day…”

Pierce said with some surprise, “Baron, don’t tell me you detained these people just to collect some spur-of-the-moment head tax…”

The man in fine clothes shook his head like a rattle-drum and quickly distanced himself from the title. “My lord, I am not the Baron of Three-Forks Town! I am just the town’s newly appointed tax collector… The Baron, he… he fled last night!”

These words left Pierce, who had been prepared to settle accounts with the local noble lord, stunned on the spot. He was speechless for a long moment.

Fled? And in the middle of the night, no less…

The tax collector said with a pained expression, “Last night, the Baron’s scout reported that you… your fleet fought with Duke Ralph at the river mouth. He said he saw… saw a high-level caster, my lord… who single-handedly defeated the Duke’s fleet, so…”

Wayne, standing to the side, couldn’t help but scoff and demand, “Then why didn’t you run?”

“My lord… I’m a local. I’ve long been dissatisfied with the Baron’s random taxes and his practice of extorting passing caravans. The town doesn’t even have a decent patrol, and the yearly tax hikes have made caravans avoid us completely. The townspeople lost their livelihoods long ago. We couldn’t wait for the Baron to get lost.”

Pierce asked a few more questions and, seeing the man’s attitude did not seem feigned, said in a softer tone, “In that case, you no longer have to suffer under Grand Duke Ralph’s exploitation. From this day forward, Three-Forks Town is under the jurisdiction of Grizzly Bear Territory. In another two days, a noble official from Grizzly Keep will come to the town. You just need to complete the handover properly.”

Before long, a soldier reported that they had secured the released secret police agent from their territory, as well as the several hundred serfs he had purchased from the human trafficker. Although they had been detained for a considerable time, thankfully, the local town officials had been unwilling to offend Grizzly Keep and had not mistreated the group. Despite the freezing weather and lack of food and clothing, only a few serfs who were already ill had unfortunately died. The rest had managed to survive while imprisoned in the granary.

After arranging for the serfs to board the icebreaker in succession, Pierce decided to depart immediately and not delay any longer. In any case, a vassal noble from Grizzly Keep would be sending someone to take over the town’s affairs later. He only needed to leave a hundred-man squad of the Northern Army here to maintain order.

Before leaving, he glanced at the tax collector on the docks, who was bowing deferentially to them, and a thought suddenly struck him.

“This tax collector is a decent administrative talent…”

“Bring him along. He’s coming back to Grizzly Keep with us.”

Chapter 363: Already Prepared

On the day they returned to Grizzly Keep, Pierce reported to Harvey with the intelligence obtained from the interrogation.

“As expected, Duke Ralph never answered Grand Duke St. Valen’s summons,” Harvey snorted coldly. “Then the identity of that secretive army Mr. Eye of Illusion discovered near Frostflower County is clear.”

“Frostflower County is only a day’s journey from Grizzly Keep. Why didn’t they attack us when we went south to Three-Forks Town?” Pierce was a little confused.

Harvey shook his head. “Grizzly Keep is a well-fortified city, after all. Even if they have high-level casters in their ranks who can cast flight spells, it would still be difficult to capture a large border city with a population of nearly ten thousand using only two thousand soldiers.”

Pierce nodded in understanding. “No wonder they’ve been lying low, just recruiting mercenaries on a large scale nearby and abducting many locals to serve as conscripted laborers.”

Abducting civilians… recruiting mercenaries…

Harvey’s heart skipped a beat. He instantly understood the enemy’s objective.

“Grand Duke Ralph knows my intention to expand my population. He’s going to herd a large number of commoners from neighboring fiefs and use them to directly assault Grizzly Keep…” Harvey slapped his forehead, a look of sudden realization on his face.

After all, in the eyes of great nobles like him, lowly commoners were the cheapest of consumables. Rather than having his elite knights fight directly, he would drive the populace to the gates of Grizzly Keep, baiting them into opening the gates to accept them, and then charge in with the chaotic crowd.

As long as the mercenaries could mingle with the refugees and charge into the city, Grizzly Keep would immediately descend into uncontrollable internal chaos.

“What if we don’t open the gates and just leave them outside?” Pierce thought the solution to the problem was simple.

Harvey smiled. “This is Duke Ralph’s overt scheme. If I keep the gates shut and let those refugees freeze to death outside, then the promises I made when recruiting people from the south to migrate north will instantly become shameless lies…”

Once his reputation and credibility as a feudal lord collapsed in the hearts of the common people, Harvey feared that he would be unable to attract a large number of migrants in a short time, even if a full-scale civil war broke out. Desperate people would rather choose to cross the border and flee to other countries.

“I can deploy more soldiers from the pioneer territories. That way, we can guard against them using the civilians to storm Grizzly Keep…” Pierce frowned in thought for a moment, deciding to reinforce their troops in advance to prevent potential trouble.

Harvey stood up and patted Pierce’s shoulder.

“That’s what our enemy is planning for, too…”

After all, these people were a living workforce. Although they were just cannon fodder to Duke Ralph, in Harvey’s eyes, they were a valuable addition to the population.

To control the situation and safely shelter the refugees being driven here, they would naturally need to transfer troops from their main base. As long as a constant stream of herded refugees assaulted Grizzly Keep, it would force Harvey to keep sending reinforcements.

That would mean the forces at their main base in the barren lands would gradually be depleted… and then it would be time for that elite unit hidden in the shadows, a mix of Spellcasters and bloodline knights, to make its move.

“They plan to lure the tiger from the mountain and directly attack our territory in the barren lands!” Pierce’s mind finally caught up, and he gritted his teeth in hatred. “The nobles’ schemes are so insidious. The lives of commoners are worth less than ants in their eyes.”

Harvey nodded. “News of the battle at the Three-Forks River will soon reach Fengyuan City. Duke Ralph will also learn that we possess ironclad gunships. In a week at most, that surprise force in Frostflower County will also know our methods of warfare and prepare countermeasures in advance.”

Pierce clenched his fists and said urgently, “My lord, then let me lead two battalions directly to Frostflower County and annihilate them all!”

“If they use unarmed civilians as a shield, could you really bring yourself to order your men to fire?”

Pierce’s expression stiffened. He hesitated for only a few seconds before saying decisively, “If it is a necessary sacrifice and cost, I am willing to bear it…”

“Alright, alright! Even if you can be that ruthless, it doesn’t mean I’m willing to lose this new population…” Harvey waved his hand, signaling his army’s commander-in-chief to relax, then slowly explained his own counter-strategy.

As for the people abducted by Grand Duke Ralph from the surrounding counties and towns, Harvey naturally intended to take every single one of them. There was no reason for him to refuse people being delivered to his doorstep, not after he had gone to such great lengths to send people south to gather a population, even going as far as buying them from slave traders.

As for the enemy’s “lure the tiger from the mountain” stratagem, Harvey wasn’t the least bit worried—even in a world with supernatural powers, the overwhelming advantage of firearms against cold weapons couldn’t be overturned or changed by the size of an army or tactical schemes.

Two thousand elite knights think they can cross the Spine of the Continent Mountains and attack my lair… Harvey couldn’t help but sneer. The city defense cannons and repeating Magical Energy Guns would teach them a harsh lesson… a lesson in rebirth.

The only real concern was how many battle mages were embedded in the enemy army, and whether there were any high-level casters… Although it was unlikely for a hereditary grand duke, a mortal noble, to attract the full allegiance of such high-ranking casters, Harvey still had to prepare for the unexpected. Who knew if the ancient Ralph family might have happened to cultivate a noble Spellcaster who stood in opposition to the Federation.

As the two were discussing, Astaren, who had just arrived at Grizzly Keep from the barren lands, knocked and entered.

“My lord, why not just dispatch Mr. Duncan… and his two students? Three high-level Mages should be enough to handle any potential ambushes from the enemy.”

Before Astalun could finish his suggestion, the Eye of Illusion had already slipped into the study with a grin, bowing to Harvey.

“My Lord… forgive me for interrupting your war council without permission.”

The Eye of Illusion rubbed his hands and volunteered for the mission. “As long as we don’t get ambushed and surrounded by a large group of bloodline knights, the Astrologer and I alone are more than enough to deal with their squad of Spellcasters…”

Astaren interjected, “What if they are equipped with alchemical anti-magic crossbows specifically designed to target high-level casters?”

“In my phantom form, I can withstand two or three direct hits from an anti-magic crossbow… Melissa also has a decent defensive magic artifact.” The Eye of Illusion was not a research-type Spellcaster who only knew armchair strategy; he was extremely experienced in combat.

“What if their high-level caster does everything they can to stall you, while the bloodline knights surround you?” Harvey also joined in on the verbal “grilling” of Mr. Eye of Illusion.

“Er… if the situation turns against us, we naturally won’t stick around to fight…” The Eye of Illusion scratched his head, a little embarrassed.

Pierce mercilessly delivered the final blow. “And what if their team has more than one high-level Mage in hiding?”

This time, the Eye of Illusion couldn’t maintain his composure. He threw up his hands and said petulantly, “What else can we do? Everyone dies eventually!”

Everyone immediately burst into laughter.

Chapter 364: Human Trafficker

Although Harvey had seen through Duke Ralph’s offensive intentions in advance and understood that the Grand Duke of St. Valen and the Church had not completely forgotten about him—a Mage Lord tucked away on the kingdom’s border—while dealing with the Federation’s frontal assault, he still felt an inexplicable anxiety about the current situation. He was keenly aware that this conflict, which had originally stemmed from a war of faith between the Church and the Federation, had gradually changed in nature with the meddling of the secular nobility. And as a pioneer lord who didn’t even hold a noble title, he was no longer as weak as when he had first moved to the barren lands, needing to go to great lengths to disguise himself and develop in secret.

Even though his personal strength had not yet truly reached the high ranks, the cards Harvey held were enough to intimidate any neighboring feudal lords with ill intentions. They also allowed him to openly stand with the Federation and go head-to-head with the Church and the nobles.

…

Harvey stayed in Grizzly Keep for a short two days. Only after the administration of Three-Forks Town was formally handed over to his vassal nobles did he set out to return to the barren lands.

Arriving almost at the same time he did was a party from the Andrew Merchant Guild.

“Esteemed Lord, we meet again!” The sturdily built President Andrew, his face covered by a thick beard, bowed eagerly to Harvey. “Please forgive me for not announcing my visit in advance.”

Harvey didn’t mind. He smiled and said, “As close business partners, my territory in the barren lands always has its gates open to friends like you. You are welcome anytime.”

He paused, then asked with some confusion, “The order for that batch of magic stone-powered engines you placed was delivered half a month ago. Could there be some kind of quality issue?”

President Andrew wrung his hands and shook his head, looking slightly ill at ease. “No, no, not at all. The alchemical instruments you sent are working perfectly, and the repair technicians who came with them are highly skilled. There are absolutely no problems… It’s just…”

“It’s just that one of my men happened to hear in Black Mountain Port that you had sent people out to purchase serfs…” President Andrew explained cautiously. “We occasionally dabble in this line of business… so I wanted to see if we could be of any help to you, My Lord…”

Although the slave and human trafficking trade had long been explicitly banned by the nations of the south, many noble houses and merchant guilds with deep-seated connections had made their fortunes this way. While they no longer openly engaged in such shady business, they were secretly unwilling to let go of such a lucrative venture.

They had simply shifted their targets to capturing displaced, mixed-blood non-humans or abducting innocent people from war-torn nations. At the same time, many tenant farmers and serfs, unable to bear the arbitrary taxes and hard labor imposed by their feudal lords, would also fall into the hands of these human traffickers and be sold off to other countries.

Harvey was not the least bit surprised that a major mine owner was also secretly running a shady human trafficking operation. After all, before magic stone-powered engines became widespread, almost every mine was one hundred percent reliant on manual labor for excavation and transport.

Harvey didn’t want to delve into this sensitive topic with him just yet. “There’s no need to rush. It’s lunchtime now. Why don’t we return to the castle and enjoy a meal first?”

Andrew immediately beamed, offering a fawning compliment, “The last time I visited your territory, I had the pleasure of enjoying an extraordinary feast… Now that you mention it again, my stomach has started to rumble. When traveling for business in the winter, we mostly have to eat wheat cakes and cured meat. They’re so cold and hard, I can barely swallow them.”

In this era, aside from curing food with lethal amounts of salt, there seemed to be no other reliable method of preservation. To make dry rations last longer, one had to remove all the moisture by any means necessary, which meant baking them until they were completely dry and hard—so hard, in fact, that they could double as a self-defense weapon on a journey; you could easily knock someone out by throwing one.

Unfortunately, the cannery in his own territory currently had low output, mainly because tinplate, the material used to make the containers, could not be mass-produced. The tin ore essential for the tin-plated iron alloy was not directly mineable in the barren lands. Harvey had to rely on bulk imports from the south, which meant the canned food produced was barely enough to supply his army.

…

After finishing a pleasant lunch in a relaxed atmosphere, President Andrew patted his satisfied belly and raised his wine glass to Harvey once more. “In this icy, snow-covered winter, I can’t believe I’m able to taste such fresh glacial salmon and matsutake mushrooms. The rich soup they were made into almost made me swallow my own tongue… And these honey baked egg cakes, good heavens… How do you get bees to produce such delicious honey in the winter?”

Harvey laughed heartily and said casually, “Although the glacial salmon hide under thick ice in winter, catching them isn’t too difficult… As for the bees, hehe, I just built them a special botanical garden that is like spring all year round, with flowers in constant bloom.”

“Even the most illustrious princes and nobles don’t know how to enjoy life as you do!” Andrew drained the vodka in his glass and let out a heavy, alcohol-laden breath.

“My Lord… about the population trade I mentioned earlier…”

Harvey put down his knife and fork, picked up a napkin to wipe his mouth, and said calmly, “That’s right. I am indeed buying people in large numbers at the moment. How many serfs do you have for sale right now, President Andrew?”

“If we’re talking about able-bodied young laborers… I have this many.” Andrew raised his left hand and held up three fingers.

Three thousand? Able-bodied young men…

Harvey shook his head. “That’s too few… What’s your price?”

Andrew was somewhat astonished. Three thousand was too few? The situation everywhere in the central south was tense, grain prices were skyrocketing, and it was impossible to sell trafficked serfs within their own countries. They had to go to great lengths to transport them to the southern coast just to make a profit.

“Then… how many do you need?” Andrew waited for Harvey to gesture a number, to see if he could handle the order.

He waited for a long time, but Harvey never raised his hand. Instead, a sentence reached his ears that almost made him think he was drunk and hallucinating… “I need as many as you can gather… there is no upper limit.”

Andrew gave a wry smile. “My lord, you must be joking… If I could really get my hands on tens of thousands of able-bodied young laborers, I’d give them weapons and armor and get a taste of being a great lord myself… Where would I find enough food to keep so many people alive?”

“They don’t all have to be able-bodied young men. I’ll take women, the elderly, and children too…” Harvey explained patiently. “If you can’t manage it alone, then work with other human traffickers. But the price must be low enough. I’m sure you all know that once the war fully breaks out, these serfs will become less and less valuable.”

Andrew said worriedly, “But even if we gather so many people, we have no way to deliver them to you in large numbers… It’s winter now. If these people travel thousands of miles north to the barren lands, I’m afraid more than half of them will freeze to death along the way.”

“You don’t need to worry about that…” Harvey had already thought it through. “You only need to use your ships to bring them to Three-Forks Town on the Ralph River, and my fleet will handle the rest of the transport… We’ll exchange people for cash on the spot in Three-Forks Town.”

Chapter 365: Deterrence Operation

After President Andrew’s merchant caravan departed, Harvey sat in his study and let out a long sigh.

Rainer also sat to one side, holding the financial ledger. Although one couldn’t read any expression on his alchemically forged metal head, the personal guards standing at the door felt that both their lord and the Grand Steward wore looks of deep worry.

“The money we worked so hard to save up in the treasury… is about to be completely spent.”

The trade orders signed with several merchant guilds from the south before winter had earned Harvey tens of thousands of gold pounds. This didn’t even include the long-term exclusive agreement for potions with the Dragonstone Merchant Guild—after all, the potion business needed time and publicity for its reputation to build. While the short-term results were not significant, the profits from long-term sales would be a continuous stream.

However, in Harvey’s development plan for his territory, the expenses were clearly much higher than the income. The construction of the Magic Science Research Institute, the procurement of a series of facilities and equipment, and the promise of a continuous supply of experimental materials for the Spellcasters had consumed nearly half of the pioneer territories’ entire annual revenue.

“I hope the twenty thousand gold pounds currently left in the treasury are enough to support our short-term plan for rapid population expansion…”

…

Subsequently, Harvey summoned Pierce and Astaren, who had returned from Grizzly Keep.

“I want to use special means to deter Duke Ralph…” he said, getting straight to the point. “We cannot stand by and watch him plunder and poison the people of the surrounding fiefs just to target us. This is, in effect, depleting our future effective strength.”

Pierce said in a solemn voice, “If we don’t use military force to beat them into submission, I’m afraid it will be difficult to change the enemy’s strategy. I believe the safest method is to wipe out that clandestine army they sent over as soon as possible.”

Harvey slowly shook his head. “That raiding party with Spellcasters mixed in must be eliminated… but it won’t significantly change the current situation.”

To dissuade Duke Ralph from targeting him, the only way was for St. Valen and the Church’s allied forces to be utterly defeated by the Federation. As the instigator of the war, the Grand Duke of St. Valen would surely face a reckoning, and his number one supporter, Duke Ralph, would naturally cease his activities.

Besides that, Harvey had thought of another feasible method…

First was to accelerate the migration and absorption of the surrounding populace, preventing the enemy from gathering enough people to press against the southern border regions under Harvey’s actual control.

Second was to make the enemy realize that fighting a protracted war of attrition with the lives of innocent commoners would surely result in a backlash. If he insisted on this course of action, Harvey would ensure he had no peaceful days, even if he hid in his stronghold of Fengyuan City.

“Are you planning to replicate the move you used against the former Earl Fegan… sending someone to infiltrate Fengyuan City to assassinate Grand Duke Ralph?” Astaren reacted very quickly, immediately understanding Harvey’s line of thought.

“That’s right. It’s a warning… but not one issued directly from me, but in the name of the people.”

Harvey paused, then said with great confidence, “Due to Grand Duke Ralph actively instigating disputes between lords of internal fiefs, the border regions are ravaged by war and the people are destitute. A certain powerful Bloodline Warrior living in seclusion here… uh, or a righteous local Spellcaster, has decided to resist his tyrannical rule, and for that, will launch a heroic operation to assassinate the Grand Duke.”

“Uh…” Pierce’s mouth hung open, and for a long moment, he didn’t know what to say. “My lord, if you decide to do this, I am willing to go to Fengyuan City personally and swear to complete this mission to assassinate the Grand Duke, even if it costs me my life!”

“What are you thinking? I have no intention of sending you to your death!” Harvey said, exasperated. “Duke Ralph truly has high-level Spellcasters under his command. No matter who I send, there’s no chance of actually succeeding with this plan.”

Astaren had a sudden realization and smiled. “So… you just plan to scare His Grace the Duke, make him wary, and curb some of his more brutal methods?”

The possibility of directly assassinating a duke in his own stronghold was minuscule, but scaring him with a few tricks wasn’t difficult. As long as it had a deterrent effect, it would be a success.

Pierce now completely understood. He turned and ordered his personal guard, “Go, bring Battalion Commander Wayne here!”

…

Wayne, who had hurried from the Military Barracks to the castle, was surprised to find that the two high-level Mages, Eye of Illusion and the Astrologer, had also arrived. He immediately realized this was no simple matter.

“Wayne, hmm… I remember now. You did an excellent job with the assassination mission in Grizzly Keep back then!” Harvey smiled and waved him over, offering a few casual words of praise.

Wayne immediately puffed out his chest with pride and responded with a determined expression, “My lord, I will not fail this mission to assassinate the Duke, no matter what. If I don’t succeed, I’ll…”

Pierce frowned deeply, stepping forward to clamp a hand over his mouth to stop the nonsense. “Shut up, don’t just spout nonsense here.”

Harvey pointed to Eye of Illusion and the Astrologer at his side and explained, “Wayne will be completing this mission with my two Spellcaster advisors.”

A personal guard then stepped forward holding a long wooden weapon case, which Harvey opened in front of everyone.

Inside was a Magical Energy Gun that came in three sections. It was larger than the one Wayne had used to assassinate the Mage Burkov Connard, with a longer barrel and a brand-new set of sights.

With Harvey’s permission, Wayne couldn’t wait to pick up the gun and skillfully assemble it. The slender rifle had a total length of nearly one point six meters, making it impossible for him to aim steadily while standing or crouching. He could only awkwardly rest the long weapon on the desk.

Harvey took a metal bipod from the bottom of the case and smiled. “To ensure shooting stability, you must use this specially made gun stand.”

Eye of Illusion was a little puzzled and took the initiative to ask, “My lord, since the two of us are going together, why use a Magical Energy Gun at all… why not find a chance to sneak into the ducal mansion in Fengyuan City and attack directly with a high-circle spell?”

“It’s too dangerous…” Harvey shook his head. “Attacking inside the city, you would have a hard time escaping, regardless of success. The Duke has no shortage of high-level Spellcasters and Bloodline Warriors under his command. To be surrounded by them would be no different from walking into a death trap.”

He pointed to the long magical energy rifle Wayne was fiddling with. “This specially made long-range sniper rifle can fire Magical Energy Bullets from over two thousand meters away. If you time it right, you won’t even need to enter Fengyuan City. You can complete the sniping mission from a concealed position outside the city.”

What?

From over two thousand meters away???

Everyone present gaped in astonishment, frozen in disbelief.

“Th-that’s a firing range as far as a Magical naval cannon…” Pierce stammered.

Wayne also held the long rifle, at a complete loss, muttering to himself, “Am I holding a… a Magical-Powered Cannon?”

“My goodness! If it can really shoot that far, couldn’t it silently take out the high-level Mages guarding the Duke?” Eye of Illusion felt a cold sweat break out on his back. He suddenly felt an inexplicable fear of the weapon before him, as if he himself were being secretly targeted.

Ms. Astrologer was much calmer. She took the initiative to ask, “My lord, in that case, why do you need the two of us to go along? If… if an ordinary soldier can wield this divine weapon and easily kill a high-level Spellcaster, then assassinating the Duke doesn’t seem all that difficult, does it?”

Harvey waved his hand for everyone to calm down and slowly explained, “It’s not as terrifying or exaggerated as you imagine. The extreme range also leads to a loss of power. Let alone a high-level Spellcaster… it would have difficulty breaking even an ordinary low-level defensive magic artifact.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the two high-level Mages let out a collective sigh of relief.

“Likewise, hitting the target requires precise aiming. A set of custom alchemical sights and a sharpshooter skilled in long-range shooting are both indispensable.”

Astaren added in a timely manner, “And after every single shot, it requires a high-level Spellcaster to infuse their entire pool of mana into a special bullet. Ordinary Magical Energy Bullets are not compatible with this sniper rifle.”

Eye of Illusion and the Astrologer paused for a moment, finally understanding why Harvey wanted the two of them to accompany Wayne on this mission.

It turned out they were being treated as mobile, powerful magic bullets…

Harvey patted the trembling Wayne’s shoulder encouragingly. “Understand now? These two esteemed high-level Mages are your two special bullets, which means you only have two chances to shoot… I’ll give you three days to get familiar with and practice mastering this super sniper rifle.”

Chapter 366: The Magical Energy Barrett

The training for the sniper mission was arranged in a dense forest outside the territory’s city walls.

The chaotic, gravelly slopes and the thick, disorderly trees could both simulate a relatively complex shooting environment and ensure an area could be cleared of people, preventing accidental injury to commoners.

Harvey personally brought everyone to observe the training. In addition to the sniper rifle Wayne was currently using, he had Chris’s Laboratory rush-produce an extra set of spare parts overnight. It was also a three-piece modular design, paired with a brand-new set of magical Sights.

As they prepared for the training, Chris began to speak enthusiastically about the powerful sniper rifle Harvey had named the “Barrett.” “The two-thousand-meter range is the tested average distance. If we don’t account for accuracy, it can actually shoot even farther…”

As he spoke, he picked up the modular sights and carefully disassembled the lens, revealing the tiny magic runes engraved within. “These Sights are an alchemical artifact with a solidified Eye of Reconnaissance spell. The casting model has been specially modified and adjusted to allow the operator to share its vision, enabling precise observation of targets thousands of meters away.”

The personal guard Captain, Tommy, muttered in a low voice, “My bloodline talent can do the same… sigh, but My lord didn’t assign this mission to me.”

Vaughn quietly kicked Tommy in the rear from behind and chided him in a deep voice, “As My lord’s personal guard, what’s more important than protecting his safety? Besides… when it comes to patience and observation, how are you any match for Wayne? Doesn’t he beat you every single time in the shooting competitions?”

Tommy scratched his head in embarrassment, finally shutting his mouth in the face of the cold, hard facts.

It only took Harvey half an hour to help Wayne adjust his usual shooting posture. He had him lie prone with his whole body flat on the ground, setting up the thick, long “Barrett” directly in front of him. He then brought one eye close to the sleeve of the alchemical Sights to observe and shoot.

This shooting training was primarily divided into “medium-range” aiming at one thousand five hundred meters and “long-range” aiming at two thousand five hundred meters. These corresponded to two pre-set sniping positions. The personnel from the Dragonstone Merchant Guild stationed in Fengyuan City had managed to deliver a detailed map of the city, which precisely marked several areas where Grand Duke Ralph was frequently active.

The ducal mansion, located on a semi-high slope on the west side of the city, was naturally the place he spent the most time. It was also the most heavily defended and a difficult spot from which to find a good sniping angle, so Harvey had directly given up on it.

Another location was the military encampment at the southern corner of Fengyuan City. The terrain there was open and flat. If the duke were to show his face there, sniping from a hilltop outside the city directly facing the Military Barracks would be most suitable. Aside from the long distance, which might result in less-than-ideal accuracy, it was a nearly perfect ambush spot that would also allow for a quick retreat.

The final chosen location was found in a detail that had unintentionally caught Harvey’s attention in the intelligence from the Dragonstone Merchant Guild. Duke Ralph’s family used the Frostwing Eagle as their family crest. This bird of prey, native to the central part of the southern continent, had been specially tamed and raised by the ducal family for generations. This allowed them to send messages and intercept carrier pigeons from rivals and enemies without relying on Spellcasters.

The current Duke Ralph himself was particularly fond of taming Frostwing Eagles. He had even built a tall, tower-like aviary in Fengyuan City specifically for them. Every so often, he would personally visit and fly his two hand-reared Frostwing Eagles from the top of the aviary tower.

In Harvey’s words, this was practically a heaven-sent live target.

But to hit Duke Ralph on this tower, located in the very center of Fengyuan City, the ambush point outside the city would be relatively far. The shooting position had to be moved closer into the city. Therefore, after discussing with the others, Harvey ultimately chose a long-abandoned section of the inner city wall in Fengyuan City.

…

Once the shooting practice officially began, Wayne prioritized the two-thousand-five-hundred-meter long-range position on the high slope. Adopting the shooting posture Harvey had taught him, he lay prone on the ground, set up the “Barrett” in front of him, and then carefully brought one eye to the alchemical Sights.

“How is it? Can you see the target?” Eye of Illusion was squatting right behind Wayne. As one of the mission participants, he and the Astrologer naturally had to train with the sniper as well to improve their coordination.

The moment Wayne looked into the Sights, his vision was instantly pulled closer in a dizzying rush, as if something had grabbed his eyeball and was dragging it around at an incomprehensible angle and speed.

He frowned and pulled away from the sights’ view, his face pale and his lips trembling for a moment. Finally, he couldn’t help but retch and throw up, earning a disgusted shake of the head from Eye of Illusion.

“Fool! Don’t connect your naked eye directly to the Eye of Reconnaissance! You have to learn to focus your mental energy and use your mana to stabilize the field of vision!”

The Astrologer rolled her eyes and said woodenly, “Mr. Sniper is not a Spellcaster! Are you out of your mind?”

Only then did Eye of Illusion remember that his mission partner was just a Bloodline Warrior. He couldn’t help but awkwardly try to backpedal, “Then what do we do? Without using mana, it’ll take a lot of suffering to completely control and adapt to the Eye of Reconnaissance.”

That feeling of the world spinning during high-speed movement could torture any tough guy until he spat out his own bile.

After crouching to the side and vomiting for a while, Wayne wiped his mouth nonchalantly and lay down in front of the “Barrett” again. Without the slightest hesitation, he once more brought his eye to the magical Sights.

About ten minutes later, Wayne, pale and drenched in a cold sweat, spoke up, “Mr. Eye of Illusion, Ms. Astrologer, I see the target!”

…

The first reason Harvey wanted the two high-level Mages to assist Wayne in this deterrence mission was their high mobility gained from using flight spells, ensuring the sniper could make a quick and safe retreat after the mission.

The second reason, naturally, was that the special magic bullets used by the “Barrett,” this unique magical sniper rifle, could not be mass-produced in the Laboratory. To activate and fire such a magic bullet over an ultra-long distance, it had to be infused with a sufficient amount of liquid magical energy. However, this meant the caliber of the ammunition could not be reduced, ultimately remaining the size of a small magical-powered shell.

But that obviously couldn’t be loaded into a Magical Energy Gun…

In the end, it was Harvey who came up with a solution. Since they couldn’t manufacture bullets of a suitable caliber, why not manufacture empty shells that could hold magical energy? Then, they could have a high-level caster, capable of compressing mana, infuse the empty shells with magical energy on the spot. As long as the bullet, which was inscribed with a “stability” rune, was a fired within a short time, its internal structure would not be destroyed by the highly concentrated compressed mana, preventing a magical explosion.

That was why Harvey had jokingly referred to Eye of Illusion and the Astrologer as the living sniper rifle ammunition that Wayne carried with him.

Chapter X: Sudden Business Trip, Taking a Day Off!

Sudden business trip, taking a day off!

My boss arranged a business trip for Monday, so I’m taking a day off as usual!

My sincerest apologies!

Chapter 367: Luring the Snake Out of Its Hole

A week passed quickly, and the sniper team responsible for this deterrence mission set off from the pioneer territories.

The Dragonstone Merchant Guild men stationed in Jackdaw Town had received an order from their President early that morning. They prepared the necessary identification documents for the trio’s disguises. The team then traveled south from Grizzly Keep aboard one of the guild’s ordinary two-masted sailboats.

Upon reaching Three-Forks Town, they switched to a local cargo barge and sailed west along the Three-Forks River towards Fengyuan City.

Although he was working with two high-level casters, Harvey had, for the first time ever, appointed Wayne as the leader of the mission, requiring the two battle mages to cooperate fully with him.

This left Wayne feeling anxious throughout the journey. Although the Lord had always treated them with a gentle demeanor, he was, after all, their Bloodline Progenitor. Their bond was far closer than any ordinary relationship. Now, having to face Mr. Eye of Illusion and Ms. the Astrologer on his own, he felt the pressure of confronting transcendent, superior beings.

“Mr. Eye of Illusion, do you think we should set up an ambush outside the city… and attempt a long-range attack on Duke Ralph, or should we enter the city directly and find a way to assassinate him in the inner city?”

Eye of Illusion and Wayne stood side-by-side on the ship, which was about to reach the Fengyuan City docks, discussing the mission details in low voices.

“Hmm… On this mission, the Astrologer and I will follow your lead. What are your thoughts?” Eye of Illusion replied casually, showing none of the arrogance of a high-level caster. His tone was gentle. “If the mission fails due to your judgment and command, the two of us will consider remedial measures… Heh, but I trust that with your experience, our intervention won’t be necessary.”

Hearing that he wouldn’t be backseat-driving, Wayne felt a great sense of relief and quickly said, “In that case… I suggest we enter the city directly. Rather than trying our luck waiting for the Duke to appear at the Military Barracks, I believe we’ll have a higher chance of success if we attack him when he goes to the aviary tower for recreation.”

“Instead of blindly trying our luck, it’s better to lie in wait for the perfect opportunity. A wise choice indeed!” Ms. the Astrologer said with a smile, having appeared on the deck at some point, voicing her agreement.

The two of them exchanged a glance and said in unison with a laugh, “But if we enter the city, we’ll need to split up and find a chance to regroup later…”

After the St. Valen Grand Duke had a falling out with the Federation, the Federation’s branch in Fengyuan City was driven out and eradicated. Other Spellcaster organizations that hadn’t explicitly submitted to the Church also saw which way the wind was blowing and withdrew. Attempting to enter the city openly as independent Spellcasters would inevitably attract the attention and surveillance of the Church and the authorities.

Moreover, the high-level casters serving Duke Ralph have surely set up numerous surveillance measures in the city. If the two of them were to waltz in with the merchant caravan, their identities could be exposed at any moment, drawing covert harassment. To a peer of the same rank, the powerful mana fluctuations emanating from a high-level caster are more conspicuous than the morning star in the night sky.

“Don’t you worry. Just blend in with the caravan and enter the city. We have our own ways to conceal our mana fluctuations and sneak into Fengyuan City under the cover of night,” Ms. the Astrologer promised Wayne confidently.

Wayne nodded. “In that case, we’ll split up. After I enter the city today, I’ll head to the vicinity of the inner city wall at night to scout for a suitable sniping position. Once I’ve confirmed a spot, I’ll leave a mark at the caravan’s tavern. You two just need to follow the mark and meet me at the designated location…”

…

After finalizing their plan, Eye of Illusion and the Astrologer took advantage of the thick fog that had suddenly risen over the river in the early morning. They cast a spell, rose into the air, and sped away towards the mountains outside Fengyuan City.

Left alone at the bow, Wayne stood on his tiptoes and gazed for a moment in the direction they had flown, muttering enviously to himself, “The abilities of Spellcasters are truly magical, to be able to soar freely through the sky like birds… If only I could have a chance to experience the feeling of flying.”

But for now, of course, completing the Lord’s mission was the most important thing.

The cargo barge soon arrived at the Fengyuan City docks. Wayne blended in with the caravan crowd, obediently queuing to enter the city. After being repeatedly harassed and inspected by the City Guard and patrols, and paying the entry tax and head tax twice, the caravan leader secretly slipped a hefty tip to the gate’s tax collector. Only then were they finally allowed to enter Fengyuan City.

“These nobles and the City Guard are rotten to the core…” Wayne couldn’t help but curse inwardly. Back in his “hometown” of the pioneer territories, if any municipal official or member of the City Guard dared to block the city gate and extort the people and merchant caravans, the money wouldn’t even have warmed their pockets before police officers from the Police Department and anti-corruption officials from City Hall would have handcuffed them and taken them in for questioning.

Such corrupt behavior would ultimately lead to them losing their well-paid, secure positions, and they would also be sentenced to at least ten years of hard labor in a logging camp or a mine.

Following the guild’s convoy to the post-house, Wayne immediately slipped away through the back door under the cover of the caravan’s men. When he reappeared on the city streets, he had changed into the ordinary attire of a local resident, carrying a gun bag on his shoulder disguised as a parcel of goods.

Following the directions of his guild contact, he quickly crossed several unfamiliar districts and found a cheap inn run by the Dragonstone Merchant Guild in Fengyuan City, one that specifically catered to traveling merchants. Using the identification he had prepared in advance, he rented a room on the second floor facing the street.

“Phew… This whole scene feels just like that mission to Grizzly Keep on the Lord’s orders a few years ago. Even the inn looks about the same…” Alone in his room, Wayne visibly relaxed. He carefully pushed the gun bag under the bed, then leaned against the window, gazing at the street below and muttering to himself.

Suddenly, an extremely familiar voice echoed in the room, “It seems Mr. Wayne has experience with similar secret missions…”

Wayne’s reaction was incredibly fast. He drew a concealed alchemical dagger from his waist with his left hand. The blade burst into searing flames almost instantly as he lunged, dagger and all, with lightning speed towards the corner with the wardrobe, where the voice had come from.

A pure black cat nimbly dodged his lunge, leaping onto the bed in a seeming panic and stammering, “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Calm down! It’s me! Eye of Illusion!”

Huh? What Eye?

Wayne missed his target and froze, stunned. Only then did he realize the voice was so familiar—it was Mr. Eye of Illusion!

He can actually turn into a black cat!!!

“Urgh… You really scared me!” Wayne said, shaking the sparks off his dagger as he awkwardly sheathed the weapon.

The black cat paced back and forth on the bed on its tiptoes. “Didn’t I tell you we had ways to sneak into the city? I turned into a stray cat and followed you all the way here.”

Wayne nodded, walked around the room twice, then pointed to a long-legged, blackish spider in the corner and asked politely, “Then that must be Ms. the Astrologer, I presume?”

The black cat froze for a moment, then burst into a fit of violent laughter, rolling around on the bed.

“Hahaha! Mr. Wayne, you’re quite the comedian! There’s no one else in this room but us…”

He paused, his round, shining cat eyes blinking in a very human-like way, and said softly, “Ms. the Astrologer has already snuck into the aviary tower… Since we’ve decided to snipe the Duke from there, we shouldn’t just passively wait for him to show up…”

“Ms. the Astrologer is going to cause a disturbance in the aviary tower to actively lure Duke Ralph out?” Wayne’s heart skipped a beat. He didn’t think it was very feasible. “But a strange Spellcaster of clearly unknown identity appearing in the aviary tower will arouse their suspicion! It might spook the target, causing the Duke to hide in his mansion and never show his face again!”

The black cat gracefully hopped from the bed to the windowsill and said with a faint smile, “Don’t worry, it won’t arouse their suspicion… The Astrologer will sneak in without anyone knowing. Then, she’ll kill or maim some of the Duke’s beloved Frostwing Eagles. I’m sure His Lordship the Grand Duke, who loves his eagles as much as his own life, will come personally to punish the subordinates in the aviary tower for their incompetence…”

Chapter 368: We’re Already Here

Fengyuan City, with its history of over a hundred years, had not always been so massive. With the rise of the ducal Ralph family, who had helped found the nation, the city’s status and development rose in turn.

Its permanent population of over ten thousand had made the original city area unbearably crowded. To make matters worse, the Ralph family had cordoned off much of the precious land in the inner city for their private estates. The local residents, left with no place of their own, could only gradually migrate outside the city proper. Over time, the inner city walls, originally built for defense, were eroded and weathered until they were finally abandoned. The very stone bricks of the walls had been dismantled by the commoners, hauled away in carts to repair their own homes.

The spot Wayne had chosen for his sniper’s perch was a relatively solid watchtower on that same inner wall. Dozens of such fortifications dotted Fengyuan City, but most were severely dilapidated, their roofs and stairs rotted away. Damp and waterlogged from years of foundation subsidence, they were infested with snakes, insects, rats, and ants. Even the local vagrants wouldn’t choose such a place for shelter.

“This abandoned watchtower directly faces the aviary tower in the city center, and no one ever comes here. I believe it’s the perfect spot,” Wayne muttered to himself, having snuck to the base of the wall under the cover of darkness and now gazing up at the towering derelict structure.

Crouched by his feet was a black cat with crystalline, dark-green eyes and unusually glossy fur. It spoke, but with the voice of a young man. “Indeed, it’s a well-hidden location…”

“I can’t use flight spells carelessly within the city, so I’m afraid you’ll have to climb up on your own,” the black cat said with a smile, then gracefully leaped onto a protruding stone brick, hopping and skipping its way up the watchtower.

Wayne gave a wry smile. He bent down, took off his leather boots, and slung them around his neck. Gripping the crevices between the stones, he used the formidable agility of a Bloodline Warrior to climb swiftly and silently upward.

“When will the Astrologer join us? Or is she… retreating first after luring the duke to the aviary tower?”

The black cat crouched on the battlement at the top of the watchtower and stretched languidly. “Don’t worry… For now, just use your observation to determine Duke Ralph’s likely position and the best time to strike.”

Wayne nodded. He took the “Barrett” from the gun bag on his back, assembled it quickly, then took a deep breath and pressed his eye to the alchemical sights. After fighting down a dizzying wave of nausea, his vision rapidly zoomed in, focusing on the aviary tower a kilometer away.

Just as the intelligence had described, the towering spire of the aviary was exceptionally conspicuous among the low-lying buildings of Fengyuan City. It was constructed from huge blocks of pure white cut stone and, aside from a deep red gate at its base, stood about three or four stories high, rivaling the scale of an expensive Mage Tower.

Each floor of the aviary had several wide-open windows, and the rooftop terrace was fitted with a massive iron frame where the trained Frostwing Eagles could perch and rest.

As Wayne was carefully observing, quickly considering where his target might appear and estimating the timing of his shot, a bizarre sound of grinding and twisting bones suddenly reached his ears.

He whipped his head around to find that the black cat, Mr. Eye of Illusion’s disguise, was swelling and expanding under the cover of night, finally reverting to his original form, clad in a mage robe.

“Please don’t mind me. My shapeshifting magic just timed out…” The Eye of Illusion shook out his robe, moved closer, and pointed toward the aviary. “How is it? Are you planning to strike the moment the duke shows his face on the ground… or wait until he has ascended the aviary?”

Wayne fell silent for a moment before shaking his head. “Let me think… This has to be foolproof. I only have two chances to shoot, and it’s highly likely that if I miss the first time, he won’t give me the opportunity for a second.”

The moonlight outside the watchtower suddenly grew a little brighter, shining through an opening in the battlement and into the derelict upper level. A gentle, cool female voice followed the moonlight, instantly reaching Wayne’s ears.

“Mr. Wayne, forgive my bluntness… but you aren’t planning to simply follow Lord Harvey’s instructions and merely deter Duke Ralph, are you?”

The Astrologer had arrived at the watchtower at some unknown moment, and with a few soft words, she had voiced Wayne’s innermost thoughts.

It was true. He had no intention of letting the Duke off so easily. Armed with a powerful magical weapon personally developed by the Lord, having infiltrated deep into the enemy’s stronghold, and with the full support of two high-level Mages—for Wayne, such an opportunity was one in a thousand.

If he could successfully assassinate his target, he could completely eliminate this grave inner threat for Lord Harvey. The temptation was simply too great for Wayne.

As for saving the countless innocent people from the surrounding towns who had been forcibly conscripted and plundered, that thought hadn’t crossed Wayne’s mind… In the Lord’s own words, this was a classic case of “insufficient ideological awareness”—a textbook example of a blindly loyal warmonger.

“We’re already here…” Wayne murmured. “You two won’t stop me, will you? If the Lord holds me accountable afterward, I will bear all responsibility myself.”

The Eye of Illusion and the Astrologer exchanged a glance. The Eye of Illusion chuckled. “Of course not. I admire your decisiveness and ruthlessness. Heh, go on… How do you need us to cooperate?”

“Just luring Duke Ralph to the aviary isn’t enough… We have to find a way to get him to the top floor, preferably to linger on the terrace for a while.” Wayne already had a rough idea and plan forming in his mind.

The Astrologer pondered for a moment. “There are no Spellcasters among the guards stationed at the aviary. I have already found a way to plant parasite spells on those Frostwing Eagles…”

In other words, since no one had noticed anything unusual about the eagles’ bodies, the Astrologer could make them die suddenly whenever she wished, precisely controlling the time of their death.

…

The three immediately began to discuss the detailed implementation of the plan. Every morning, the guards and falconers at the aviary would release some of the fully trained Frostwing Eagles, allowing them to fly freely above Fengyuan City for a time before luring them back to their nests with whistles and fresh meat.

As for the newly captured eagles that were still wild and difficult to tame, they were kept inside the aviary, hooded and chained, for a period of training. Releasing them too early would risk them flying away for good.

This gave the Astrologer the perfect window of opportunity. First, she would activate the parasite seeds in the Frostwing Eagles remaining inside the aviary, causing them to suddenly die or become gravely ill. Whether or not the falconers could provide timely aid, they would certainly report the situation to Duke Ralph immediately.

Once the Duke himself arrived and saw the large-scale casualties among his eagles, he would definitely order his men to recall the eagles that had been released that morning. At that moment, the Astrologer would repeat her actions, luring the Duke, who was deeply attached to his beloved eagles, to the top of the tower.

And the top of the aviary tower was a circular platform, a narrow space that could barely accommodate a few people, situated at a high vantage point with no cover whatsoever.

What came next… would naturally be the time for the elite sniper, Wayne, to shine.

Chapter 369: An Unexpected Failure

At dawn, the sleeping Fengyuan City slowly awakened to the echoes of church bells.

Wayne lay prone atop a dilapidated watchtower on the city wall. At regular intervals, he would peer through his alchemical sights at the aviary tower, constantly adjusting his aiming posture to maintain his feel for the shot.

Soon, he saw the tamers begin to open the iron shutters on the aviary tower’s windows. Several enormous birds of prey flapped their wings and charged into the sky, circling endlessly above the tower.

“It’s about time. Let’s begin!”

Ms. Astrologer, who had been leaning quietly in a corner of the watchtower, pulled a translucent crystal ball from her robes. Her lips moved slightly, silently chanting an incantation, before she snapped her fingers with a pop.

About five minutes later, Wayne saw the windows of the aviary tower being slammed shut. Through the lattices, he could vaguely see people rushing up and down inside. Soon, the main door at the bottom opened, and someone hastily mounted a horse and galloped toward the Duke’s manor.

The plan was proceeding smoothly. In less than an hour, Duke Ralph’s exclusive luxury carriage arrived at the aviary tower at a frantic pace.

The tall, middle-aged man in lavish clothes who strode hastily from the carriage was, without a doubt, Duke Ralph himself.

His Lordship the Duke truly seemed to love his eagles as much as his own life. Through the alchemical sights, Wayne could clearly see the half of the Duke’s face that was visible, his expression a dark mask of fury, like a volcano on the verge of eruption.

The officials waiting at the entrance to the aviary tower all knelt on one knee. In his rage, the Duke grabbed a pale-faced tamer, inverted the hilt of his side sword, and viciously struck the man’s head. He then snatched the eagle whistle from the tamer’s neck and blew it himself.

The Frostwing Eagles circling near the aviary tower immediately heard their Master’s call and responded with shrill, ear-piercing cries. Two of them, the largest of the flock, folded their wings in unison and dove toward the Duke on the ground… They were the two he had personally tamed.

Wayne immediately said in a low voice, “Ms. Astrologer! Cast the spell now!”

The words had barely left his lips when he watched through the sights as the two Frostwing Eagles, originally diving rapidly toward the Duke, suddenly began to tremble violently and unnaturally in mid-air. One of them spiraled out of control and slammed into the aviary tower’s outer wall, its brains splattering against the bricks and leaving a deep red stain.

The other let out a tragic cry, struggling as it plummeted headfirst toward the hard ground. It crashed less than ten meters from Duke Ralph, a mangled heap of broken bones.

This clearly terrified Duke Ralph. He quickly put away the eagle whistle and rushed into the aviary tower, reappearing moments later on the platform at the top of the tower. He obviously didn’t dare to use commands to summon the Frostwing Eagles still circling in the sky. Instead, he planned to have the tamers bring fresh meat to the rooftop to slowly lure the free-flying eagles back.

At this moment, on the roof of the aviary tower, only Duke Ralph and three tamers responsible for carrying the Frostwing Eagles’ food remained. The guards who had originally surrounded the Duke were all left outside the aviary tower.

A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!

The bullet, charged with mana by Mr. Eye of Illusion, was already in the breech. Ms. Astrologer was compressing mana for the second one.

“Backlit, wind… westerly, light… Target distance, about nine hundred meters.”

Wayne muttered to himself, his finger resting steadily on the Barrett’s metal trigger.

Two thin, straight lines were etched on the lens of the alchemical sights, intersecting. Wayne knew clearly that their meeting point was where the bullet would strike. With no wind or a light breeze, he was ninety percent confident he could hit a stationary target’s head directly from under a thousand meters.

But Duke Ralph was not a stationary human target. He was pacing back and forth on the tower’s rooftop platform, at times shouting up at the sky, at other times gesticulating wildly, directing the tamers to lift and shake the bloody fresh meat to attract the circling Frostwing Eagles.

Wayne was not impatient. His body, lying on the ground, was as still as if it were frozen. His hands rested firmly on the rifle’s frame, his finger hovering over the trigger, quietly waiting for the perfect moment.

Finally, Duke Ralph stopped for a moment. Apparently angered and confused by the ineffectiveness of the food lure, he planted his hands on his hips and began to berate the tamers under his command.

“Perfect! I finally got my chance!”

Wayne pulled the trigger without hesitation. The runes carved all over the heavy rifle’s body lit up in an instant. After a low hum, a faint fluctuation of mana emanated from it.

But Wayne’s eyes never left the sights. He didn’t see the exact point of impact, nor the expected spray of blood from a shattered head. The target just shuddered, as if struck by something powerful, and fell directly beside the metal perches for the Frostwing Eagles.

The few tamers beside him were also stunned, then rushed over, trying to help the fallen Duke to his feet.

Eye of Illusion leaned in anxiously, asking, “Did you hit him? Did you get him?”

“How could this happen?” Wayne was baffled but not the least bit flustered. Without looking back, he raised his hand and took the second mana-infused bullet from Ms. Astrologer, quickly loading it into the breech.

Voom—

Another Magical Energy Bullet was fired in an instant. The angle for this shot was not as perfect as the last. Wayne could only hope that an opening would appear for a clean hit as Duke Ralph struggled to his feet amidst the huddle of three tamers.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans…

A dense cloud of blood mist erupted on the rooftop platform. An unlucky tamer, caught in the chaos, had been struck by Wayne’s bullet. His head and upper torso exploded, spraying Duke Ralph’s head and face with blood mixed with fine bits of brain and flesh. The concussive force from the compressed Magical Energy Bullet knocked the Duke down again. If not for the iron railing built around the platform, the Duke would likely have been thrown from the high tower on the spot.

“Something’s wrong!” Wayne knew he had completely failed this time. Resignedly, he let go of the rifle and rose to a half-crouch. Eye of Illusion immediately snatched the alchemical sights and looked toward the aviary tower.

“The Duke has a high-rank defensive magic artifact on him!” Eye of Illusion declared decisively, but then shook his head in confusion. “But Duke Ralph isn’t a Spellcaster himself. How did he activate the artifact’s defensive properties?”

The Astrologer, who had been holding the crystal ball with her eyes shut, suddenly snapped them open and spoke urgently, “This is bad. They know the Duke is under attack! There’s a high-rank caster hidden among the guards below, and they’re using a high-rank detection spell to lock onto the mana fluctuations in the area!”

Still unwilling to give up, Wayne began to disassemble the Barrett while grinding his teeth. “Can we find a way to stay hidden in the city? Maybe we can find another chance to strike…”

Eye of Illusion refused without a second thought. He and the Astrologer, without another word, each grabbed one of Wayne’s arms, awkwardly sandwiching him between them. They cast a flight spell and sped out of the city.

“Duke Ralph’s guard doesn’t just have a high-rank caster hidden among them. There must be more than one high-rank Bloodline Warrior as well!”

Chapter 370: The Aftermath of Fear

Morik did not stay by Duke Ralph’s side at all times.

Although he was the Duke’s private magic advisor, and in addition to handling extraordinary matters involving spellcasters on his behalf, one of his duties was also to ensure His Lordship’s personal safety.

Duke Ralph himself was no ordinary, dissipated nobleman. Not only was he free of the characteristic aristocratic troubles like mistresses and illegitimate sons, but he also had no interest in amorous pursuits. His only pleasures were warhorses and eagle taming.

Therefore, Morik was not overly vigilant about the Duke’s occasional trips to the Military Barracks or the aviary tower.

That was until he was waiting quietly outside the aviary tower, when a violent and unusual fluctuation of mana suddenly erupted from the top of the tower. Ordinary personal guards or Bloodline Warriors might not have sensed it, but to a spellcaster who had just advanced to high-rank, it was like a sudden clap of thunder booming directly overhead.

Without a moment to alert the personal guards, Morik rapidly chanted an incantation and soared into the air, heading straight for the top of the tower. The high-rank Bloodline Warrior who had been chatting pleasantly with him just moments before, his face now grim, also charged into the aviary tower at extreme speed.

The two arrived at the top of the tower almost simultaneously and were stunned by the scene on the platform. The Duke himself was collapsed by the railing at the edge of the platform, drenched in blood, his condition unknown. Of the three eagle tamers, two lay motionless beside the eagle perches with blood seeping from their mouths and noses. The last one was in the most gruesome state… having suffered some unknown attack, his head and upper torso had been completely blasted into a pulp of flesh and blood. The scene was horrifically violent.

Morik and the Bloodline Warrior exchanged a glance. The latter immediately threw himself next to the Duke, using his own body as a shield, while the former quickly produced an amplification artifact and cast a high-rank detection spell to search for the enemy hiding in the shadows.

This was no ordinary assassination. No alchemical weapon could cause such a violent mana fluctuation, and there were clearly no traces of any spellcaster activity within the aviary tower…

Unless the opponent possessed the planar blink ability, something only a Legendary Caster would have!

One hundred meters…

Five hundred meters…

Other than the two magic apprentice attendants currently at the base of the tower, Morik did not sense the slightest unusual mana fluctuation in the vicinity.

He tightened his grip on the amplification artifact and increased the flow of mana into it…

One thousand meters…

Two faint, indistinct strings of mana suddenly appeared a kilometer away, but they seemed to vanish the instant Morik detected them, leaving him with only a vague direction.

“Southwest! The suspected attackers are fleeing!” Morik said in a low voice, but he had no intention of using a flight spell to give chase. On one hand, he was worried about falling into a trap meant to lure the tiger from the mountain; on the other, without the assistance of a companion, he was not confident of victory.

“Cambaye, how is the Duke?”

“Unconscious… The defensive artifact he carried is shattered. He must have been hit more than once…” Cambaye carefully tilted the Duke’s somewhat thick neck and found faint trickles of blood from his ears as well. “His internal injuries may be severe. We must return to the Duke’s manor at once and summon the Fengyuan Archbishop to treat His Lordship.”

…

The hastily summoned Fengyuan Archbishop arrived almost at the same time as the guard’s carriage that was escorting the Duke back to his manor. After repeatedly casting divine healing spells three times and having the Duke consume a magic potion, Duke Ralph finally, slowly stirred from his coma.

“Cough, cough… Dammit!” The Duke, propped up into a half-reclining position on the bed, asked the people assembled in the bedroom, “What in the world happened? Someone dared to attack me inside the aviary tower!”

Captain of the personal guard, Cambaye, his face ashen, was speechless for a long moment. It was Morik who stepped forward to speak for him. “My lord, the assassin wasn’t hiding in the aviary tower. The attack was launched against you from a much greater distance within the city.”

The Duke’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What? What kind of arrow or hidden projectile can be fired from below to hit me on such a high aviary tower?”

He stared at Morik and asked in a low voice, “A spellcaster’s long-range artifact? Or some kind of alchemical weapon?”

The magic advisor shook his head. “As far as I know, only the Skyfire Anti-Magic Crossbow developed by the Alchemical Exploration Society can reach a casting distance of over five hundred meters, but that thing is as large as a four-wheeled carriage. There’s no way it could have been brought into Fengyuan City without being discovered…”

And it certainly couldn’t have struck the Duke on the tower so silently.

The Duke didn’t press further. He only felt a dull, stifling pain in his chest, and his throat was extremely dry. He hadn’t lost consciousness during the first wave of the attack. At that moment, an eagle tamer had rushed over to help him up, and in the next instant, the man’s head and upper torso had exploded right in front of his face, spraying him with a thick, hot, and腥mess of blood and flesh.

If that subordinate hadn’t been there to block it slightly, he would have probably…

At this thought, the hair on his body stood on end, and he quickly raised a hand to touch his neck.

The Fengyuan Archbishop, Miro Rivera, hurried forward and comforted him in a gentle voice, “Your Lordship, it is fortunate that you followed His Grace the Grand Duke’s instructions and kept this protective divine talisman, bestowed by His Holiness the Pope, on your person at all times. Otherwise, I’m afraid you would not have survived this terrible attack.”

“Yes…” Duke Ralph said, still shaken. “I never imagined His Holiness’s defensive divine talisman would be so miraculous as to shield me from such a terrifying attack.”

“Have the assassins been caught? What are their origins and identities?”

Cambaye and Morik exchanged a look before replying in a solemn tone, “They were two suspected high-rank casters. After being exposed, they immediately used a flight spell to flee the city… We discovered they launched the attack from… from an abandoned inner city wall watchtower. They also left a note.”

With an ashen face, Duke Ralph took the note Morik presented and unfolded it. When he saw the line of hastily scrawled words, he couldn’t help but shiver.

[This is a warning, but not the last one—a friendly reminder from your northern neighbor.]

“It wasn’t a public assassination by the Federation… It was the one I was just planning to deal with, that spellcaster lord entrenched on the northern border, Harvey…”

The man had actually sent two high-rank casters, and they were armed with such a terrifying… a horrifying weapon capable of silently killing a target from a great distance away.

Duke Ralph turned his neck slightly and saw two attendants standing before the spacious and ornate French windows, carefully drawing back the heavy curtains to let the newly awakened Duke breathe some fresh air.

“Close them! Close the curtains! Shut the windows tight!” the Duke suddenly roared, his voice incredibly hoarse, as if his throat were being squeezed, and tinged with a slight tremor. “Cambaye, help me to the castle basement immediately! It’s not safe here!”

“Yes, my lord!” The Captain of the personal guard seemed to realize why the Duke was so tense. He rushed forward to help him up, and surrounded by the others, they hurried downstairs.

Whatever strange and powerful magical weapon the enemy possessed, the thick stone walls and steel-forged gates of the castle basement were, at the very least, far safer than the three large, open French windows in the Duke’s bedroom.

As the anger from the sudden attack and his injuries gradually subsided, Duke Ralph found that even though he was now in the structurally sound and heavily guarded castle basement, an inexplicable fear still sent a chill down his spine and made his heart constrict…

Chapter 371: Intelligence Feedback

Just after Wayne and the other two made their successful escape from Fengyuan City, Eye of Illusion immediately sent a message to Harvey using his portable Magic Brain device.

[Eye of Illusion: Lord Harvey, the deterrence operation against Duke Ralph was completed three days ago… my apologies, but due to the operational autonomy you granted us, Mr. Wayne attempted to kill Duke Ralph directly during the sniper attack. Unfortunately, he was unsuccessful…]

[Eye of Illusion: We left Fengyuan City immediately after the attack and are now on a merchant ship returning to Three-Forks Town… According to our informants in the Dragonstone Merchant Guild, Fengyuan City has been completely locked down, with entry and exit prohibited. We have been unable to ascertain the Duke’s specific condition, but it should be nothing more than a minor injury… after all, he possesses some sort of strange defensive magic artifact that activates automatically without needing to be channeled with mana.]

[the Astrologer: But nearly everyone in Fengyuan City knows about the attack on the Duke. People are discussing it in private everywhere—in merchant guilds, taverns, inns, and on the streets—and the stories are becoming more and more outrageous. Some even claim to have personally witnessed a Legendary Caster descend upon Fengyuan City and assassinate Duke Ralph…]

[Eye of Illusion: Heh, the contents of the warning letter we left at the scene of the attack have also been leaked from the tightly sealed Duke’s Manor. This has caused a sensation in the local noble circles, and many believe this is the Federation’s attempt, using us as their instrument, to eliminate the St. Valen Grand Duke’s foremost vassal.]

After quickly reading through the messages from the two Forum members, Harvey felt completely at ease. He had long suspected that if Wayne were to lead this mission, his ruthless and decisive personality would compel him to take the risk and attempt to kill the Duke directly. He just hadn’t expected the two high-level casters to agree with the idea and fully cooperate with his risky endeavor.

He recalled when the Forum was first established, during the members’ first joint act of vengeance against the Church’s witch hunters. Mr. Eye of Illusion had been unusually active then, volunteering to take on the task himself.

“To think that this high-level Mage, who appears so dashing and gentle, is actually a warmonger at heart…” Harvey shook his head with a wry smile.

Seeing that he had no intention of getting up from his desk, an attendant quickly brought him a freshly brewed cup of black tea. Harvey took the cup and sipped it, then exited the Forum’s one-way chat and entered a separate “encrypted channel” outside the Forum.

This was an intelligence communication network set up exclusively for the “secret police” trained by Astaren.

[Handle 091: According to the intelligence gathered from Fengyuan City, there has been no drastic reaction from the Duke’s vassal nobles and retainers. However, the Ralph family has urgently recalled all direct family members stationed in surrounding counties… They are likely afraid of a large-scale assassination campaign against the family.]

[Handle 088: The Duke’s Manor has been sealed for three full days. The Archbishop of Fengyuan was summoned on the day of the attack but has not been seen leaving the estate since… Therefore, I speculate that Duke Ralph may be seriously injured.]

[Handle 085: As planned, we have been covertly using various channels to portray this incident as a joint warning and punishment from the Federation and the Northern Barren Lands for Duke Ralph’s tyrannical levies and plundering of the populace in his domain and the surrounding villages… This is an obvious truth, and many have come to believe it.]

The list of “secret police” who had infiltrated Fengyuan City ahead of time to gather intelligence consisted of exactly three people, a perfect match for the number of handles sending encrypted messages in the communication channel.

Harvey let out a long sigh, hoping this deterrence operation would cause Duke Ralph’s atrocities to die down for a while, buying him a little breathing room to shelter and win over the populace.

Just then, Astaren gently pushed the door open and entered.

“My lord, Duke Ralph’s secret army stationed in Frostflower County suddenly abandoned the mercenaries and conscripted laborers they had gathered this afternoon. They are now traveling light and marching rapidly toward the Spine of the Continent Mountains…”

Harvey’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh? They received news of the Duke’s assassination attempt so quickly?”

It seemed the deterrence operation had been remarkably effective. Duke Ralph must have been completely blinded by fear and rage. He was no longer going to slowly play a game of attrition with sheer numbers but intended to cross the Spine of the Continent Mountains and attack the pioneer territories directly.

And that was precisely the outcome Harvey had been hoping for… Nothing was more delightful than a “rookie opponent” delivering himself to one’s doorstep.

“By the way, where is Rainer? He uncharacteristically didn’t come to disturb my afternoon rest today… Usually, this is his favorite time to report on his work.”

Astaren smiled. “The snowstorms have ceased these past few days, and the weather has improved slightly. Refugees from Three-Forks Town have been arriving in an endless stream, almost packing the entire dock at Grizzly Keep. City Hall sent three waves of support staff, but they’re still stretched thin… Rainer couldn’t stand their inefficiency, so he went to Grizzly Keep to oversee things himself.”

Fortunately, it was the dead of winter, so he didn’t have to worry too much about plagues and infectious diseases. Otherwise, this batch of refugees from southern St. Valen would not only require tedious registration of their personal information but also the work of quarantine and epidemic prevention, which would have worked the already understaffed City Hall to death.

“I’ve already had the Construction Department start renovating the abandoned refugee shelters outside the city. At the very least, these refugees who have traveled so far won’t have to freeze to death in drafty, dilapidated shacks in the icy Northern Barren Lands.”

…

Arturo Lambert put down the thin sheet of paper in his hand, muttering the same phrase over and over, “So that’s how it is… so that’s how it is.”

Seeing his trancelike state, Councilor Pular asked with some concern, “Speaker? Is something wrong?”

Ever since he began formally undertaking new research in the domain of the soul, Arturo—as both the Clan Head of the Lambert family and the Speaker of the Necromantic Cult—had immediately surpassed others in the progress and results of his experiments.

The reason was simple. As a newly converted alchemical lifeform, Arturo was truly experiencing what it meant to have a body innately built for research. He had no need for food or rest; as long as he had a sufficient supply of magical energy, he could conduct experiments ceaselessly, no longer troubled by the frailties of a research-type Spellcaster’s body.

No wonder Lord Harvey believed that the domain of the soul had far greater potential than the traditional fields of flesh-and-blood modification and death energy spellcasting.

“We were indeed following old, outdated research directions. Only today do I truly understand what Lord Harvey meant by… the wrong path…”

There was no need for ancient, cumbersome, taboo rituals and bloodline sacrifices, nor the near-certain risk of attempting Lich transformation. By simply extracting a complete soul from a frail, fleshy body and transferring it into a custom runic alchemical cybernetic body, an undead spellcaster could completely break free of their mortal shackles and truly enter the transcendent state of “soul immortality.”

With a thought, Arturo raised his metallic mechanical arms and gently beckoned to several experimental alchemical beasts standing idle by the laboratory wall. Using the unique soul link characteristic of alchemical lifeforms, he activated them all, and they resumed their busy work preparing for the next experiment under his control.

These were a batch of experimental assistant-type alchemical beasts custom-made for him by Rainer, his fellow kin, who had considered Arturo’s tireless work habits. Almost no normal magic apprentice could serve as his assistant—after all, those young people were still living humans and could never endure the brutal, round-the-clock torment of his work schedule.

For this, Arturo was naturally immensely grateful. “Once this new experimental project makes some progress in a few days, I will request from Lord Harvey that I, too, be equipped with a set of… alchemical mechanical tentacles, just like my kinsman, Lord Rainer.”

Chapter 372: Pursuit and a Call for Aid

Duke Ralph’s “elite surprise force,” stationed in advance in Frostflower County, was no match for the Northern Army’s sudden assault.

To cross the Spine of the Gods Mountains as quickly as possible and launch a surprise attack on Harvey’s pioneer territories at the foot of the range, these elite knights and Bloodline Warriors from Fengyuan City had even abandoned their warhorses and all their siege engines.

But who could have known that the moment they braved the severe cold and heavy snow to set foot on the barren lands, they would be ambushed by the Northern Army, which had long been lying in wait at the foot of the mountain.

The Northern Army’s First Battalion, led by Vaughn and comprising over five hundred soldiers, supported by a special operations unit of fifty Bloodline Warriors, routed them completely in a single direct confrontation. They left countless bodies of their fallen comrades scattered across the vast, snowy plains as they fled for their lives back toward the Spine of the Gods Mountains.

The sporadic fighting that followed was more of a one-sided hunt, with the Bloodline Warriors, who excelled at swift assaults, leading the pursuit with their alchemical Wolf Spiders and their superior tracking abilities.

“Damn it! Weren’t these guys supposed to be Duke Ralph’s elite knights? Why are they so pathetic!” Dav cursed loudly, pulling his feet from the knee-deep snow as he reloaded his revolver.

His adjutant approached, a grim look on his face. “The regular knights are indeed pathetic, but those bloodline knights and Spellcasters are a different story. Although they don’t seem to have had any tactical training, they’ve given us a lot of trouble in one-on-one fights…”

The adjutant spoke from the heart. Not long ago, he had taken a fireball to the chest from a low-level caster head-on, yet he still managed to run the man through with a burning sword. He survived thanks to the unique magic resistance talent of a Bloodline Warrior, left with only a festering burn wound on his chest.

Vaughn shook the snow from his clothes and asked with a cold expression, “Was anyone else injured in that last skirmish?”

“Two unlucky bastards had their arms chopped off. Another idiot didn’t notice an enemy hiding in a tree and was stabbed from shoulder to abdomen. Thankfully, his bloodline talent can stimulate his potential and suppress his injuries. He should be able to survive if we get him to the camp at the foot of the mountain.”

Vaughn frowned. “Although these bloodline knights and low-level casters can’t withstand a volley from our Magical Energy Guns, they pose a considerable threat to our search-and-destroy squads now that they’ve scattered into the mountain forests.”

In the scattered search operations and small-scale pursuit skirmishes, the enemy bloodline knights and Spellcasters, when cornered, fought with the desperation of men willing to take their attackers down with them. This resulted in rare casualties for the Northern Army, who seldom suffered losses in battle. Even the Bloodline Warriors of the special squad were among the injured.

After a full day and night of pursuit, they had successfully cornered this small enemy force in a ravine on the mountainside, trapping them in a dead end. However, the Northern Army had paid the price with the lives of over twenty regular soldiers, and seven or eight Bloodline Warriors had been wounded.

Dav said resentfully, “If only we could get the Artillery Battalion up the mountain. We could just fire a few rounds into this ravine, maybe even trigger a rockslide and an avalanche to bury them and be done with it.”

“Unfortunately, the terrain on the mountain is too rugged and the snow is too deep. Even with the alchemical beasts carrying them, it would be difficult to bring up gun carriages that heavy…” Vaughn looked up at the sky, dismayed to see the snow falling even harder. “Blockade the ravine’s exit and have the soldiers make camp… We will launch the final assault on the enemy tomorrow morning.”

Within half an hour, the sky had turned completely dark. Several massive bonfires were lit in the camp that sealed the mouth of the ravine.

“Why wait until dawn to attack?” Dav grumbled at Vaughn, scraping the last of the grease from a can of beef with a grimy finger. “Before we set out, you made a bold promise to Commander Pierce that you’d complete the mission in just three days.”

“You want the soldiers to charge straight into the Spellcasters’ fireballs, ice shards, and those arcane magic missiles that blast bloody holes in your chest on contact? You want them to go in there and die with them?” Vaughn replied coldly, adding a few logs to the campfire.

Dav was instantly silenced and didn’t dare to argue. He knew perfectly well that to quickly eliminate this group of enemies, all it would take was charging in and unleashing a few volleys. But their desperate counterattack would also cost the Northern Army at least a dozen more lives.

Back in the refugee tribes on the barren lands, more people than that would freeze to death after a single snowy winter night. They had grown accustomed to such cold indifference. But since arriving in the pioneer territories, they had grown alongside these comrades-in-arms who were as close as brothers, fighting and surviving together. How could he bear to watch them suffer needless casualties?

“We’re waiting until dawn because we’re waiting for Master Duncan,” Vaughn finally explained in a low voice after a long silence.

Dav was taken aback. “In the end, we still have to rely on a Spellcaster…” he muttered.

Of course, Vaughn didn’t want to do this. The Lord had once said that a proper people’s army should never rely on the individual power of transcendent beings. Instead, it should learn to use the technological support that such power brings, completing its missions through tactical coordination and teamwork.

Had the proud Commander Pierce been leading this operation himself, he probably wouldn’t have cared so much about casualties and would have given the cold, absolute order to swiftly eliminate the enemy.

But Vaughn didn’t feel his actions were a sign of weakness. After all, my lord Harvey had also said that every time a combat order is given, the officer must be responsible for the lives of the soldiers under their command. Only such an officer is a qualified commander.

Unexpectedly, not long after the call for aid was sent, the high-level caster Duncan arrived ahead of schedule around midnight, accompanied by two magic apprentices.

This master of shapeshifting magic, like his students Mr. Eye of Illusion and Ms. the Astrologer, shared the same approachable and gentle personality, entirely lacking the superior air of a transcendent being.

“I hear you’ve trapped a squad of Spellcasters and bloodline knights in the ravine up ahead?” the white-haired Duncan asked in a warm voice.

Vaughn nodded awkwardly and briefly explained their current predicament.

“There are several mid-to-low-level casters, and the rest are bloodline knights.” Vaughn drew a simple map of the ravine in the snow at his feet. “It’s a dead end, but they’re using the boulders and cliff walls for cover, so we can’t inflict effective damage with our shots. Do those Spellcasters have an endless supply of mana? From yesterday until now, whenever soldiers from the special squad try to move in, they’re met with a barrage of magic attacks…”

Hearing this, Duncan chuckled. “Young man, it seems that although you have pledged fealty to a Lord who is a Spellcaster, you don’t really understand us… They must be carrying plenty of magic stones to replenish their mana anytime, anywhere. Besides, we can also draw mana from the Magic Net through meditation. It’s not like those Magical Energy Guns in your hands, which become useless iron rods once the ammunition is spent…”

Chapter 373: The Manual Aerial Bomb

Heavy snowflakes drifted down like goose feathers. Halfway up the Spine of the Continent Mountains, a large number of fully-armed soldiers of the Northern Army had gathered.

Harvey’s magic advisor, Duncan, unfastened the thick fur coat draped over his shoulders and gestured for the magic apprentice accompanying him to bring forward a small wooden box.

Vaughn respectfully stepped forward and asked in a low voice, “Master Duncan, are you planning to use an attack artifact in conjunction with an area-of-effect spell to deal with the enemies hiding in the mountain pass?”

Duncan’s white hair danced in the wind. He glanced at the half-orc officer and teased, “Area-of-effect spell? You picked that term up from My Lord, didn’t you?”

He raised his mechanical arm, forged from metal, and carefully lifted the lid of the box at his feet. “You truly overestimate a crippled old man with a prosthetic like me… My mana channels are severely damaged. I’ve long been unable to cast high-rank area-of-effect spells!”

Resting securely inside the box at his feet was a bizarrely shaped, enormous “shell.” Wayne and the others recognized it at a glance. “A magical energy shell? But… there’s no cannon. What’s the point of bringing this thing here?”

Duncan smiled without a word and slowly stepped back. The sound of chanting accompanied a violent friction of flesh, bone, and metal. His form twisted and expanded at an incredible speed, finally transforming into a lion-headed monster even more robust than an Icefield bear. From its densely furred flanks, a pair of giant, metal-forged wings suddenly extended, flexing and stretching with surprising agility.

“Gods! A lion with wings!” Dav stumbled back two steps in fright. “Its four legs and two wings even have a metallic sheen. They can’t be made of iron, can they?”

Duncan’s apprentice explained in a low voice, “This is our mentor’s newly improved shapeshifting magic, designed to work perfectly with his alchemical prosthetics… the Steel Griffin.”

The griffin beast let out a heavy breath, a plume of hot white air erupting from its blood-red maw. It then strode forward, snatched the massive “magical energy shell” with its sharp talons, and with a powerful flap of its wings that kicked up a storm of snow, it soared into the air. Its huge, dark form circled and climbed high above the camp before turning to fly straight toward the mountain pass.

“Master Duncan is taking that shell into the pass?” Vaughn was completely baffled, but seeing that the reinforcements were already in motion, he quickly issued commands to his own soldiers, who were on standby. Under the guidance of the moonlight, the group slowly advanced toward the mountain pass in the darkness.

When they reached the entrance of the pass, they saw the griffin form of Duncan diving down from an extremely high cliff into the valley. It still clutched the noticeably oversized “magical energy shell” in its talons. The remaining enemies in the valley had also noticed the attack from the sky. Several fireballs and Arcane Energy missiles the size of human heads shot a-swoosh toward the sky, but the griffin deftly swerved its body to dodge them all.

It executed another high-speed, spiraling dive. Its enormous wings, gleaming with a metallic luster under the moonlight, flapped powerfully. When it was still fifty or sixty meters from the ground, it released its tight grip. The “oversized magical energy shell” fell, whistling as it plunged toward the enemies hiding among the piles of rubble in the valley…

BOOM—

Vaughn felt a ringing in his ears, and the world around him seemed to fall silent for a moment. Then, a massive, thick pillar of fire erupted violently from the valley. In an instant, the entire mountainside shook, and the tremendous blast knocked many soldiers flat on their backs in the snow.

Before Dav could even rub his aching ears, he noticed a shower of rubble and a deluge of snow cascading from the cliff face above. He quickly shouted a warning, “Get away from the pass! Avalanche!”

The men scrambled and rolled back toward the camp, watching with wide eyes as the falling rocks and snow rapidly buried the entire mountain pass, filling it in as if it had never existed.

The soldiers stood stunned for a moment, then burst into a chorus of exuberant cheers, all marveling at the immense power of this new weapon.

“This… this is far more powerful than a magical energy shell…” Vaughn muttered to himself. “It’s like divine punishment handed down by the gods themselves…”

Duncan, who had long since landed and reverted to his human form, walked over and smiled. “How was that? The power of a magical energy alchemical bomb is much stronger than that ‘area-of-effect attack spell’ you were talking about, isn’t it?”

…

In the great hall of Harvey’s Lord’s Castle, another grand victory banquet was being held.

It was primarily to reward the trio—Wayne, Eye of Illusion, and the Astrologer—for completing their Deterrence mission in Fengyuan City. At the same time, it served to commend the Northern Army for successfully repelling a large enemy force in the Spine of the Continent Mountains just the day before.

Besides Wayne, Eye of Illusion, and the Astrologer, the high-ranking officers of the Northern Army were all in attendance. To liven up the atmosphere, Harvey had also roped in Chief Administrator Rainer, Chief Advisor Astaren, and the Dean of the Academy of Sciences, Arturo.

The three alchemical lifeforms clearly had neither the need nor the ability to enjoy fine food and wine, but they didn’t seem awkward. They gathered in their own group, cheerfully discussing technological research related to Alchemical constructs.

Also dragged to the banquet by Harvey were Chris and Benoit, who typically holed themselves up in the Alchemy Laboratory. The two of them, however, couldn’t find a quiet corner in the boisterous hall. Having witnessed the power of the laboratory’s new “magical energy bomb,” the officers of the Northern Army, led by Pierce, had surrounded the two alchemists and begun to repeatedly “interrogate” them under the guise of plying them with drinks.

They were determined to pry from their lips the final test results of the new weapon, when it would be ready for mass-production, and when it could be equipped for their use in the army.

This was also the first time Harvey had tried to introduce a banquet style from his past life into this world. It was no longer the traditional format of long wooden tables that separated guests from the host, sitting opposite each other.

Instead, all the food was meticulously cut and prepared, then arranged on large platters. Meats, vegetables, and fruits were sorted into categories, each accompanied by a variety of flavorful sauces, allowing everyone to take what they wanted according to their own preferences and tastes, similar to a “buffet.”

This novel style of banquet was an entirely new experience, not just for the Spellcasters from the south, but even for the local officials who had lived with Harvey in the barren lands for years. A crowd of Northern Army officers, plates in hand, swarmed the long tables where one could freely take food, their eyes wide with wonder as they ate until their mouths shone with grease.

“Using a magical energy-gathering array to heat an indoor garden, allowing common vegetables and flowers to grow and bloom in the dead of winter… I never thought magic could have such a special use.” Duncan, holding a glass of iced vodka, took the initiative to approach Harvey and strike up a conversation.

Harvey smiled and gently clinked his glass with Duncan’s, saying softly, “In the past, we limited the use of magic to esoteric research, detached from the mundane world, forgetting the universal value it inherently possesses.”

Since spellcasters advanced from mortal bodies to become extraordinary, why couldn’t the magic that elevated them also be used to benefit ordinary people?

Duncan froze for a moment upon hearing this, then slowly nodded, staring thoughtfully at the wine-filled glass in his hand, lost in thought.

Seeing his chance, Arturo, the Dean of the Academy of Sciences, sidled up to Harvey and whispered, “My lord, the three experimental groups at the Academy of Sciences have all made very encouraging progress on the soul transfer project…”

Harvey nodded in satisfaction. “If you have any needs for equipment or materials, just submit a request directly to City Hall. They’ve allocated a sufficient research budget for the Academy.”

“Ah? Oh, yes…” It was clear Arturo hadn’t come for funding. “What I mean is… My lord, there are quite a few mid-to-high-rank colleagues at the Academy now… who wish to apply to you for, erm… voluntary transformation into alchemical lifeforms…”

Chapter 374: Late Winter Beast Tide

“Don’t let your hands shake while holding the gun!”

“Press the stock firmly against your shoulder, or the recoil from the magical energy bullet will throw off your aim!”

“You’re reloading too slowly! By the time you get a new magazine in, the enemy will be in your face, chopping your head off!”

“Stop looking around! Sights, muzzle, target—three points in a straight line!”

In the camp at the Forward Bastion, Wayne, having just returned from his leave, was harshly supervising the new recruits’ daily training for their first front-line rotation.

Benny, who had enlisted less than three months ago, was one of them. He was originally an ordinary porter at the docks of Perch Town, in the outskirts of Goldshine City. After the plague broke out, he was swept up with a large group of fleeing commoners and headed north. He was lucky enough to make it near Jackdaw Town, where he received treatment and shelter from the Lord.

Compared to his hometown of Perch Town, the pioneer territories—aside from being much colder—couldn’t have satisfied Benny more. Here, at least, he didn’t have to worry about starving if there was no work, or live with the constant anxiety of never knowing where his next meal would come from.

The only unfortunate thing was that he really wasn’t cut out for studying. After three months of literacy education, Benny had to retake the exam four times with all his might before barely passing. He suspected his last lucky pass was purely out of his teacher’s pity for him.

Reality was cruel. With a barely passing level of education, he naturally couldn’t land a well-paying work contract. With the mentality that a man with two hands and two feet wouldn’t starve, Benny eagerly signed up for the newly formed Garrison Corps. The salary for a farming soldier wasn’t as high as a regular soldier’s, but the perks included room and board, and the food was said to be quite good.

As Benny himself put it, it was a much more promising future than hauling heavy bags on the docks for the rest of his life.

Who would have thought that not long after joining the Garrison Corps and completing basic training, he would be inexplicably singled out by two battalion commanders from the Northern Army during a surprise inspection by a commander. Without any room for argument, he was transferred directly into the Northern Army.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk! Long arms, long legs, a sturdy build… It’s a waste to have him farming in the Garrison Corps!”

Even now, Benny could still remember the moment he was chosen, the look in the eyes of those fierce-looking commanders, as if they were picking out prize breeding stock.

Afterward, he was hauled directly to the Forward Bastion in the Icefield River Valley to become a new recruit in the regular army.

It was a tradition in the Northern Army that whenever new recruits completed their enlistment training, they would be sent directly to the front lines against the vile orcs. At the same time, some veteran soldiers would be assigned to mentor them. Benny, however, was unfortunate enough to be assigned directly to Battalion Commander Wayne’s personal squad, where he endured training that was even crueler and stricter than that of the other recruits.

“Benny! What are you spacing out for?” The moment his mind drifted, he was instantly caught. “Crouching fire position! Give me fifty more reps!”

The rookie teammate standing behind him immediately gritted his teeth and whispered, “Dammit, Benny! You got us extra drills again!”

Wayne strode over to Benny’s squad and stopped, his face cold. “Stop whispering to each other! And you lot… quick-reload drills, fifty reps!”

A young recruit finally couldn’t hold it in any longer and mumbled, “Commander, it’s just too cold. My fingers are so stiff they won’t obey me… How much longer do we have to train?”

Wayne gave a savage grin. “You’ll train until you can perform a quick reload in under five seconds with your eyes closed.”

A collective gasp went through the ranks.

…

After finally enduring the extra training, the veterans were allowed to stretch their limbs where they stood and even chat idly amongst themselves. Meanwhile, newbie recruits like Benny had to sit cross-legged on the open ground, gritting their teeth as they used their frozen fingers to unload the bullets they had just pushed into their magazines, one by one.

It’s unclear who suddenly muttered under their breath, “I wonder if dinner tonight will be like yesterday’s, with fried pork chops and a thick salmon soup…”

Everyone who heard him immediately swallowed hard.

Benny secretly swallowed a mouthful of saliva as well, a look of yearning on his face. Back in his hometown, he had once answered the lord’s call and served as a conscripted laborer for the army, hauling supplies. But it had always been unpaid hard labor for the nobles, and he even had to provide his own rations.

But being a soldier in the pioneer territories of the Northern Barren Lands was completely different. Although the commanders and veterans were fierce and menacing all day long, and he would occasionally get a beating with a rod for being stupid, the food was simply too good.

Grilled wheat cakes and smoked meat were standard issue. During field training or guard rotations, there were extra food rations—sometimes half a pound of fried pork chops or a steaming hot, thick salmon soup. Although it was a military ration system, soldiers could eat their fill, with no unjustified deductions or reductions.

His mind wandered again, and a veteran waiting nearby immediately gave him a merciless rap on the head with his knuckles.

“Benny! Is that magazine glued to your hand? It’s taking you forever to get the bullets out! My eighty-year-old grandpa is quicker than you!” the veteran said, rubbing his hands together and threatening him with a wink. “Don’t delay dinner, or I’ll have the cook soldier cancel your extra portion tonight!”

The new recruits immediately lowered their heads and quickly unloaded their bullets. No one wanted to be singled out and have their extra portion canceled.

Suddenly, a sharp whistle blew from the bastion’s watchtower.

Enemy attack?

The heavy snow had stopped for days. Haven’t the vile orcs started their migration back yet?

“All personnel! To your battle stations!” Wayne yelled. “New recruits, follow your mentors and ascend the bastion walls in order! Prepare to engage the enemy!”

The veteran standing beside Benny deftly slung his Magical Energy Gun over his back and urged him on with a relaxed expression, “You hear that? Grab your guns. Don’t forget your magazines and bullets. Stick close to me, just like in training. Our position is on the northwestern wall. Let’s go!”

…

After reaching their designated combat positions as ordered by their commander, the veterans expertly performed a final weapons check. They then rested their guns on the crenels of the wall and ordered the recruits trailing behind them to reload their magazines.

It was Benny’s first time experiencing such a scene, and he couldn’t help but feel nervous. But when he glanced up and saw the relaxed expressions of the veteran mentors, his surging fear quickly subsided.

If only he could also stand on the wall, Magical Energy Gun in hand, and give those detestable, savage, and cruel non-humans a few good shots…

On the opposite bank, a swathe of indistinct dark shapes appeared in the dense forest, among which seemed to be a few extremely large targets.

“Hmph, they’ve scrounged up a few more stitched corpse puppets to serve up to us on a platter…” The veteran tucked his gun under his arm, reached into his uniform jacket pocket, and pulled out a cigarette. He was just about to light it when his eyes suddenly narrowed.

“Wait! That’s not a stitched corpse puppet! What is that?”

The massive dark shape was clearly several times faster than a corpse puppet. It soon burst out of the forest and plunged into the frozen Icefield River with a deafening crash. The thick ice of the riverbed couldn’t seem to bear its weight and shattered instantly, causing the terrifying monster to sink into the river with a great splash.

Battalion Commander Wayne was clearly more knowledgeable. His brows furrowed as he shouted in a low, stern voice, “It’s a riding Demonic beast of the Demons! And it’s several sizes larger than a normal one—it must be an untamed wild Demonic beast!”

When he was escorting Lord Egnor and Lord Chris on their expedition deep into the Icefields, he had once encountered these terrifying behemoths. It took more than ten Bloodline Warriors coordinating with continuous fire from Magical Energy Guns to barely bring one down.

The slightest mistake, and the magical attacks spat from its mouth could cause horrific casualties among ordinary soldiers.

But why would they appear here?

Chapter 375: Flesh and Blood

The massive Demonic beast that had shattered the ice and sunk into the river struggled desperately, churning the once-calm surface into a boiling cauldron.

After some time, it staggered onto the riverbank, allowing the soldiers on the walls of the Forward Bastion to get a clear look at its true form.

Compared to the ordinary, Camel-ox-sized Demonic beasts ridden by the Demon soldiers, it was a wonder what this thing had eaten to grow so large. Its massive head was comparable to the front of a war vehicle, its two tusks jutting from its mouth were thicker than a man’s thigh, and its four limbs were like the load-bearing stone pillars of a house. With every running step, it stomped a deep crater into the ground, sending up a spray of snow.

As it stood on the riverbank, it looked to be nearly half the height of the Forward Bastion’s walls—at least seven or eight meters tall by visual estimate. If it were to charge directly at the wall, it was uncertain whether the fortress, built of cement and steel rebar, could withstand the impact.

“Good heavens, what is that monster!” Many of the new recruits had never fought the Demons before and naturally didn’t recognize this magnified version of a Demonic beast, crying out in alarm.

“This must be the monster the local barren landers often talk about, the one that lives deep in the Icefields!”

“Look! There are more in the dense forest on the other side of the river! It’s not just this one!”

Wayne swallowed, his throat feeling a little dry. He too had seen the silhouettes of more colossal beasts emerging from the woods on the opposite bank—there were about two or three more.

“All of you, shut up! Continue with battle preparations!”

Without a doubt, even the rapid-firing Magical Energy Guns would have limited effect against such a gigantic monster. Magical creatures shared a terrifying trait with Bloodline Warriors like them—an innate resistance to magic.

It would be a different story if it were just one of the ordinary Demonic beasts tamed by the Demons. Their smaller size made it difficult for them to completely resist the piercing damage of the Magical Energy Guns, and a shot to a vital area like the head or internal organs would be instantly fatal.

But this hill-sized creature before them was different. The thick, hard bone armor covering its head and chest alone looked impenetrable to magic bullets, unless one could land continuous, precise attacks on the same vital spot.

Wayne subconsciously turned his head toward the city defense cannons. He saw that the two massive, gleaming metal barrels had already begun to turn slowly. The gunners responsible for adjusting the direction and angle of fire were desperately turning the cannons’ handwheels, aiming the muzzles at the colossal beast slowly approaching the bastion.

A blindingly bright flash of fire erupted, followed by a deafening roar that seemed to explode directly inside the soldiers’ heads. Many of those closer to the cannons froze for a second before painfully covering their ears, though it was already too late.

Ignoring his ringing ears, Wayne immediately leaned out to look toward the riverbank, and his heart sank.

The shell had landed a good ten meters away from the first beast that had come ashore. The violent explosion in the snow didn’t affect the target at all; it merely startled it, causing it to speed up its charge toward the bastion.

The colossal beast wasn’t charging straight toward the bastion in line with the cannons. The defensive trenches on the riverbank and slopes, originally built to stop the vile orcs, now proved to be a nuisance, forcing the beast to weave unpredictably as it dodged the obstacles.

The city defense cannons continuously tried to adjust their aim and angle, but they couldn’t estimate the correct lead for their shots. The last miss was a cautionary tale, and the cased bursting shells had not yet entered mass-production. The outpost had only been allocated a few dozen for live-fire drills.

But if it got any closer, it would enter a dead zone where the city defense cannons couldn’t reach it. After all, the cannons, fixed to their mounts on the wall, couldn’t depress their barrels to fire at a sharp downward angle. Once the beast was up against the wall… to protect the bastion and the regular soldiers garrisoned inside, it would probably be up to Wayne and his group of Bloodline Warriors to go down and fight for their lives.

The second shell was fired with another earth-shattering roar. This time, the prediction of the impact point was much more accurate. It exploded less than three meters from the monster’s front legs, causing the behemoth to suddenly stumble mid-stride and fall to its knees.

Perhaps because its body was too large and heavy, the colossal beast struggled for a long while after falling and couldn’t get back up. This gave the artillery crew a perfect opportunity—the target was now no different from a stationary practice dummy.

And so, the third cannon blast…

Followed only a few breaths later by the roar of the fourth…

“How… so fast?” Wayne couldn’t help but turn to look at the two nearby city defense cannons. Smoke was still wafting from their muzzles, and the strong, pungent smell of Dragon’s Flame powder spread across the entire wall.

He saw that each of the two city defense cannons was manned by a four-man artillery crew, working methodically behind the thick barrels. They mechanically repeated the standard procedure: open the bottom magazine well, load a shell, disengage the safety, and fire.

Fortunately, the third and fourth shots finally hit the struggling beast.

The shells flew so fast that Wayne couldn’t even see how they struck the monster. He only saw a huge cloud of blood mist erupt from its side with a ‘bang’. Shattered bone armor and flesh flew out, spraying like a fountain several meters onto the snow.

The colossal beast’s body shuddered violently. Its once-swollen belly instantly deflated, and the solid bone armor on its skin cracked like fragile ice crystals. Then, more blood, along with yellowish-white internal organs, was squeezed out from the hole.

The dying beast seemed to want to let out one last defiant roar, but as it opened its cavernous mouth, it just gurgled and spewed out a large pile of organ fragments. Then it collapsed stiffly to the ground, lifeless.

Only then did Wayne and the others realize that the two follow-up shots had hit different places—the third had blown a large hole in its hard chest plate, while the one in its flank was the work of the fourth shell.

The only certainty was that both of these terrifying shots had successfully delivered their shells into the monster’s body, causing fatal internal explosions that killed the behemoth from the depths of the Icefields outright.

With the successful kill of the first beast as a reference, the other two or three that followed it across the river could not escape such a powerful artillery barrage. Although the accuracy was still somewhat worrying, the city defense cannons’ rate of fire was dense and rapid enough. After more than a dozen shells were fired in continuous succession, all of them were finally killed on the riverbank slopes.

As for the packs of smaller Demonic beasts that seemed to have followed the giants, dealing with them was even simpler. A few volleys from the Magical Energy Guns were enough to quickly wipe them out.

The soldiers on the bastion walls could no longer contain their excitement, releasing their earlier fear and anxiety in a torrent of cheers and roars.

For a moment, cheers even more deafening than the cannon fire erupted from the walls and the camp.

“Awooo! We killed those big bastards!”

“Long live the Lord! Long live the Northern Army! Long live the Artillery Battalion!”

Chapter 376: A Sudden Change in Mana

By the time Harvey received the news and arrived at the Forward Bastion aboard the Armored Icebreaker, it was already the afternoon of the following day.

The corpses of the three terrifying behemoths still lay quietly in the snow on the riverbank. The blackish-red gore had long since frozen solid, but even in such frigid weather, a thick, nauseating, foul stench was still palpable as one drew near.

“The size of these monsters is indeed terrifying, but in the end, they’re just flesh and blood. They were completely defenseless against our powerful magical energy weapons,” Pierce commented coldly after stepping forward to inspect the demonic beast corpses.

The two alchemy apprentices who had accompanied Harvey held their record books and walked over to the bodies, beginning to take meticulous notes. The bursting shells had been designed to achieve a certain degree of penetration while also producing a devastating explosion after piercing the target’s defenses. The half-city-wall-sized “live targets” before them provided the best possible real-world combat data.

After the pointed shell pierced the target’s outer bone armor at high speed, it drilled into its body and began a terrifying tumble. This horrific kinetic energy wreaked havoc on its internal organs, and the pressure was then transferred back to the surface. Not only were its flesh and organs squeezed out, but even its toughest outer carapace shattered from the shockwave, causing the entire body to shrivel and collapse.

Eye of Illusion, who had also come along, leaned in for a closer look and asked with a puzzled expression, “It has been decades since any signs of such massive demonic beasts were discovered on the southern continent… Before you killed them, did you see how they used their innate magic?”

Wayne answered honestly, “To prevent them from ramming the bastion’s outer walls, our rate of fire was very high… Only the last demonic beast, which had fallen behind, tried to spit a giant fireball at us. But that thing was just like a spellcaster’s magic fireball; it only flew about ten meters before exploding on its own.”

Eye of Illusion felt his face flush, as if the answer was a blatant mockery of him. After all, compared to magical energy weapons with ranges that could easily reach hundreds or even thousands of meters, the paltry dozens of meters of a battle mage’s attack range were rather pathetic.

Even the single-target spell universally acknowledged in the magic world as having the longest range could only reach a maximum of about a hundred meters after being cast. Compared to the “Barrett” ultra-long-range magical energy sniper rifle he had witnessed with his own eyes, it was practically useless.

He discreetly snuck a glance at Harvey and saw that My Lord, who was also a spellcaster, seemed unfazed. On second thought, it made sense… After all, these magical energy weapons that subverted the transcendent status of spellcasters were personally created by this agent of the Forum.

“There’s a limit to the bone and muscle strength of any living creature. This thing is several sizes larger than an Icefield Mammoth. What on earth allows it to support such a massive body without being crushed by its own weight?” Harvey circled the corpse, completely unable to comprehend it.

It would be more normal if a marine creature grew to such a size, as the buoyancy of seawater could offset some of the effects of gravity.

“Perhaps it has to do with the mana in its body. After all, ancient wizards studied these magical creatures and found that they are naturally born with channels in their bodies that can store mana.” Eye of Illusion, whose main field of study was shapeshifting magic, had a relatively deep understanding of magical creatures.

Harvey nodded in agreement, but then frowned. “But this thing is rumored to only be active deep within the Icefields. Why would it suddenly appear in the Spine of the Continent Mountains?”

On their migration over such a vast distance, wouldn’t they have encountered the vile orc tribes living on the Icefields?

This question immediately hit Eye of Illusion’s “knowledge blind spot.” He could only stammer, “How about… we use a Recording Stone to record this thing’s appearance and ask Teacher Duncan and Mr. Astaren when we return to the territory? They might know the strange reason for this.”

…

“How is this possible?” Astaren’s eyes widened as he watched the scene displayed by the Recording Stone. “Isn’t this a Source Beast?”

“A Source Beast? That’s what this thing is called?” Harvey asked, curious. “Have you seen one before in the Kingdom of Eternal Night?”

“Very rarely. These magical creatures usually form small clans of four or five and live in the frozen tundra of the far north, deep within the Icefields. It’s said that the intense mana surge within their bodies causes their blood to boil, so they must rely on the extreme cold to survive and reproduce…”

Duncan also pondered for a moment before saying thoughtfully, “The mounts of the Demons are a mixed-blood subspecies of this creature. I have captured many for observation in the past, and they share a number of similar characteristics.”

“Do wild Source Beasts actively attack other creatures? Like Demons, vile orcs, or the humans living on the Icefields?” Harvey just wanted to figure out why these colossal creatures had left their native habitat and traveled thousands of miles to the Spine of the Continent Mountains.

At least from their size and powerful magical attacks, it seemed unlikely they were captured and domesticated by the Demons or vile orcs to be used as heavy weapons or vehicles in war.

Astaren was momentarily stunned, as if he had suddenly thought of something. He said, with a hint of uncertainty, “It’s… it’s foraging and reproduction! That’s right! They were drawn here by their instincts to feed and reproduce!”

“Huh?” Harvey was completely baffled. “Logically speaking, a huge, slow-moving creature like this shouldn’t be carnivorous. What could there possibly be for them to eat in the Spine of the Mountains? And why have we never seen them migrate here to forage before?”

Astaren’s tone grew heavy. “It’s mana… My Lord, these Source Beasts feed on magic stone veins. Likewise… they are extremely fond of mating and reproducing near mana-rich veins…”

Harvey’s heart sank. He instantly thought of the magic stone vein beneath his castle, and the ruins of a massive, artificially excavated mine in the underground base at the foot of Raven Ridge’s southern slope…

But why…

Why could these behemoths so accurately sense the magic stone reserves near his territory from thousands of miles away? They lived in the frozen lands deep in the far north of the Icefields…

“Compared to us human spellcasters, magical creatures are far, far more sensitive in their perception of mana… After all, we must learn it, using meditation to remold a set of mana channels for our bodies. But these creatures, blessed by mana, are born with channels that can guide and contain it.”

Duncan spoke up at the right moment with his own speculation and judgment, but a hint of barely perceptible ruefulness and envy still crept into his voice.

Harvey, however, immediately thought of the Energy-devouring beetles that were being farmed in large numbers. These insects also fed on magic stones. Were they, too, drawn here by the massive magic stone vein in this region?

And where did the beetles originally live? They had never been seen in the south before. Could they also have come from the frozen lands deep within the Icefields?

Just as Harvey was struggling to pinpoint the crux of the problem, the door to the conference room was suddenly slammed open by a young personal guard.

“My Lord! It’s terrible! The energy-gathering array in the south-slope underground base… it suddenly exploded! The Energy Ranch and parts of the underground mine have collapsed, and many base personnel are trapped inside…”

Chapter 377: The “Living” Magic Core

“My Lord, at the Raven Ridge south slope underground base, the energy-gathering array—which has always run normally—suddenly exploded for some unknown reason. Part of the underground facility has now collapsed, and some workers are trapped inside…”

What!

Harvey shot up from his chair. The others also wore expressions of disbelief.

The energy-gathering array… whether it was the continental or planet-level model, had never experienced any downtime or malfunctions since Harvey had put them into widespread production, let alone an explosion.

Whether at the magical munitions factory, the maintenance department, or the energy centers dedicated to charging various combat and work-type alchemical beasts, every single energy-gathering array had been under meticulous maintenance, operating steadily for the long term without a single mishap.

“Was it operator error… leading to a power output overload?”

The engineering personnel, led by a personal guard to report to Harvey, shook his head resolutely. “It absolutely could not have been operator error, My Lord. The staff responsible for the energy-gathering array know the operating procedures by heart; they wouldn’t mistake the control levers on the instruments even with their eyes closed… Besides, the maintenance department just serviced and inspected the equipment two days ago and found no issues whatsoever.”

Harvey nodded, though he wasn’t about to take the man’s word for it. “Have Chris and Benoit head to the south slope base as soon as possible. We’ll go over as well and meet them there…”

He certainly hoped the problem lay with the array’s equipment itself, or perhaps was due to worker fatigue or a moment of carelessness… If not, that would mean the source of the accident was the mana itself… and mana instability was something Harvey would find extremely vexing.

…

The Engineer Corps, having been alerted, were directing several large engineering alchemical beasts, bustling about the collapse site at the underground base to manage the accident scene. Fortunately, the collapse hadn’t occurred in the large cavern where personnel gathered and worked, but in some abandoned tunnels that were rarely entered.

The Energy Ranch was also seldom frequented by people, and the collapse had only caused a brief commotion among the penned beetles, hardly a significant loss.

Chris directed several alchemy apprentices to collect the remaining parts of the energy-gathering array after the explosion. He and Benoit discussed the matter, repeatedly examining potential sources of the problem. Judging by their furrowed brows and puzzled expressions, they seemed to be completely clueless.

“My lord, we have repeatedly inspected the wreckage of this energy-gathering array.” Chris wore a rare look of bewilderment. “Whether it’s the hardware structure, the connection ports, or the rune matrix… everything is fine. At least, there’s nothing that could have caused it to suddenly explode.”

Harvey nodded and called over Group Leader Pepp, asking patiently, “Were any staff nearby when the accident occurred? Did they observe any abnormal phenomena?”

Pepp pointed to a coin-sized scrape on his forehead and said with a pained expression, “My lord, there were actually two explosions. The first one was massive, but most of the workers had already clocked out for the day. The staff on duty had also returned to the duty office in the main cavern after completing their daily routine checks… No one discovered the problem right away.”

“A second explosion? What happened then?”

“I was also on the duty roster for tonight. After hearing a loud boom from the energy-gathering array room… I was the first to rush in, and as a result…”

Engineering personnel like Pepp, who came from commoner backgrounds, were very familiar with the operating procedures for various alchemical instruments. However, they were completely clueless as to how these marvelous things, which they regarded as “magical creations,” were actually made or how they functioned.

Everyone just knew that according to the work code and operating procedures, the first thing to do in the event of an unknown malfunction was to immediately disconnect the energy-gathering array’s energy conduits to prevent a series of instrument failures due to a power overload.

As the Group Leader, Pepp’s first instinct upon seeing the energy-gathering array inexplicably blow up was to rush over and yank out the conduit connecting it to the liquid magical energy converter. The result was that the turbulent mana remaining in the energy conduit immediately sent him flying several meters, cracking his head open.

It was probably like touching a live electrical socket and being thrown back by the shock instead of being electrocuted on the spot. He was truly lucky to be alive.

“Although we haven’t figured out the specific cause of the accident, it’s a good thing the Living Tunneling Machine was sent to the east to excavate a tunnel… Otherwise, at this time of day, it would have been docked next to the energy-gathering array, charging… It probably would have been affected by the mana disturbance from the explosion. If that thing got wrecked, we wouldn’t be able to find a second Giant Devouring Worm to convert…”

Harvey deeply agreed on this point, but not knowing the cause of the accident left him uneasy. “Let’s go down to the Energy Ranch below and check the situation…”

…

It was only when Harvey led the group aboard an alchemical beast vehicle down to the Energy Ranch, located deeper underground, that they discovered a peculiarity.

“Look! There seems to be something… moving inside the magic stone crystal pillar,” Harvey said in surprise, pointing at a thick mineral pillar not far away that would take several people to encircle with their arms.

Chris squinted and observed for a moment, then said hesitantly, “My lord… how could there be anything inside the crystal pillar? Your eyes must be playing tricks on you…”

Benoit also looked in the direction Harvey was pointing and shook his head, indicating he saw nothing.

Pepp immediately led a few Engineers to the strange crystal pillar. They circled it several times, looking it over, and said in confusion, “There’s nothing in the pillar.”

Harvey was stunned, muttering to himself with some uncertainty, “Could it be that I’m the only one who can see it? Just now, I clearly…”

But Astaren, standing by his side, stepped forward and said in a low, serious voice, “No! My lord, I saw it too!”

He raised his arm and pointed to another thick crystal pillar nearby. “It suddenly moved into that pillar!”

The thing could actually teleport, moving freely between different magic stone crystal pillars!

The personal guards immediately went on high alert, raising their weapons as if facing a formidable foe, but they looked around in confusion—they couldn’t see anything strange at all and didn’t know which dangerous target to aim at. They could only stand there blankly, forming a tight circle around Harvey, maintaining a high state of vigilance.

Why can only I… and Astaren see it?

Although the object in the crystal pillar moved extremely fast, Harvey still managed to see its true form during a brief pause as it shuttled between pillars—it was a translucent, deep-red, prismatic object, the same color as the magic stone. It looked as if it had been meticulously cut and carved by a jeweler, resembling a massive, vertically elongated, spindle-shaped gemstone.

The magic stone crystal pillars were clearly such hard, solid matter, yet it moved through them with swift freedom, as if swimming wantonly through liquid.

Duncan, like Chris and the others, was completely unable to see this strange crystal. However, based solely on Harvey’s and Astaren’s verbal descriptions, he had a vague feeling that something was wrong. He quickly advised, “My lord, this underground ruin itself has too many suspicious and unknown elements. I suggest we withdraw from this place for now and seal it off temporarily…”

Harvey frowned, lost in thought. If they suspended the Energy Ranch’s operations, the territory’s energy center would immediately grind to a halt due to the lack of liquid magical energy. Relying solely on the energy-gathering arrays was completely insufficient to power the vast number of alchemical constructs that were now thoroughly widespread throughout the territory.

Just as he was hesitating, he suddenly saw the deep-red crystal flash again. This time, it didn’t move between pillars but abruptly appeared out of thin air next to a worker alchemical beast that was clinging to the stone wall, diligently collecting beetle ore.

In that instant, the metal surface of the alchemical beast began to vibrate violently, accompanied by faint sparks from the friction of its components…

With a bang, the alchemical beast exploded, its fragments clattering to the ground.

“I think I know how the energy-gathering array exploded…” Harvey glanced at Astaren, his voice filled with incredible astonishment and excitement.

“This thing… is probably the Magic Core we’ve been searching for all this time!”

It was just that Harvey had never imagined that the Magic Core was actually “alive”!

Chapter 378: The Trap

The Magic Core is a living thing?

The moment Harvey spoke, everyone present was stunned.

Chris said in a daze, “Isn’t the source of mana supposed to be the Magic Net space? I thought… I thought the so-called Magic Core was just an abstract concept…”

But no matter how hard the others tried, they couldn’t perceive the true form of this “living” core as clearly as Harvey and Astaren. Even the spellcasters, like Duncan and Benoit, used detection spells to no avail.

“This thing can actively sense and approach alchemical constructs, so it’s not strange that Astaren can see it.”

Harvey rubbed his fingers with a strange expression, wondering to himself: But why can I, a human of flesh and blood, also observe its concrete form…

Two Bloodline Warriors stepped forward. “My lord, for safety reasons, please evacuate with the Lord Advisor.”

Harvey shook his head. “No, it should only pose a destructive threat to alchemical constructs. Just have Astaren move away. If I leave, you’ll be completely in the dark. How can you deal with something you can’t even see?”

Before Harvey could finish, the chief advisor stood his ground, stubbornly refusing the suggestion to retreat. “If I’m not mistaken… My lord, you want to capture it, don’t you? Compared to ordinary alchemical beasts, an alchemical construct with powerful soul energy like myself should be far more attractive to it… I believe I should stay here as a potent lure.”

Astaren was right. Harvey did indeed have the sudden impulse to capture this miraculous “living core.” After all, ever since reading the speculations about the origin of mana in that ancient document from the Forum, he had been a firm believer in its existence.

The later discovery of this mysterious underground ruin lent more credibility to his bold hypothesis—if not to find the Magic Core, why would some mysterious beings from ancient times have gone to such lengths to come here and explore?

While they discussed, Harvey and Astaren kept part of their attention on the “living core’s” movements. They noticed that it was indeed deeply drawn to Astaren, who stood in the center of the crowd. Yet, for some unknown reason, every time it flashed over, it wouldn’t materialize. Instead, like a startled animal, it would retreat and flee far away upon the slightest contact.

“It seems to be wary of something… Although it’s desperate to get close to Astaren, it’s also afraid of something or someone near him, which is why it’s testing the waters like this.” Duncan, with his rich experience in studying and observing magical creatures, subconsciously treated the object as a Demonic beast with a degree of intelligence and reasoning.

Chris mumbled, half to himself, “Could it be… could it be that what it’s most interested in is actually the Lord…”

After all, only Harvey and Astaren could perceive the “living” core that was invisible to everyone else. But Harvey was clearly not an alchemical construct, which made the situation particularly strange.

Tommy, the Captain of the personal guard, bowed and requested, “My lord, please allow me to attempt an attack on it under your guidance.”

Benoit quickly tried to dissuade him. “But it hasn’t shown any malice towards creatures of flesh and blood. What if…”

Harvey waved his hand. “It’s fine. This thing has probably been hidden in these underground ruins for a very long time. For some reason, it just remained undiscovered until now. For so long, countless alchemical beasts and engineering personnel have been stationed here, yet there has never been a case of an unprovoked attack.”

Therefore, he believed that this thing could only affect alchemical constructs that contained pure liquid magical energy. The mana in the mana pathways of ordinary spellcasters was mixed with too many elemental substances after being converted through meditation, and its concentration didn’t reach the level of liquid magical energy, which was why the core completely ignored them.

“We can give it a try…” Harvey nodded, signaling for Tommy to get ready.

The Captain of the personal guard immediately came to Harvey’s side and raised his Magical Energy Gun, holding it steady. Following the direction Harvey pointed, he aimed at an empty spot in the air, a target he couldn’t see at all.

Swoosh!

Swoosh! Swoosh!

Each time Harvey pointed, he chose the brief pause in the “living” core’s teleportation, a window of less than a second when it was stationary. This was just enough time for Tommy, with his bloodline power activated, to adjust his aim and fire with extremely fast reflexes.

“Did… did I hit it?” Tommy lowered his gun with a bewildered look. It felt like the first time in his life he had ever fought like a blind man, relying solely on subconscious instinct from his innate abilities to pull the trigger at thin air.

“The last shot hit it, just as it was trying to approach another alchemical beast…” Harvey frowned. “But the moment the bullet made contact with its surface, it melted…”

No, it didn’t melt… It was absorbed.

This thing was the very source of mana. Actively or passively, anything containing pure mana that approached it would be forcefully assimilated…

“If it’s afraid of you… um, an anomalous spellcaster, and doesn’t dare approach Lord Astaren, then how are we supposed to capture it?”

Having roughly figured out the creature’s characteristics, the group was at a loss. If Harvey moved away, Astaren might be attacked. If he was destroyed on the spot, there would be no way to piece the Chief Advisor back together…

But if Harvey didn’t move away, the creature was too afraid of his presence, giving them no opportunity to trap it.

This was far more complicated than simply lying in wait for the perfect opportunity. With the slightest misstep, this metal “tree stump” of an Astaren would be smashed to bits by the cunning “rabbit,” a risk Harvey was absolutely unwilling to take.

He suddenly slapped his forehead, a plan forming in his mind. He quickly ordered, “Quick! Send a message to Rainer and have him bring me the Dragon Chaser’s Coronet from my Laboratory in the castle!”

By wearing this alchemical artifact powered by mental energy, wouldn’t he be able to match the teleportation speed of this “living” core over short distances?

So what if it’s the source of mana? My Mental Anchor is Blue Star!

…

Rainer quickly delivered the Dragon Chaser’s Coronet, also bringing along a soul extraction device from the Academy of Sciences. This was a contingency plan—if Harvey’s trap failed, Astaren would inevitably be attacked by the “living” core. If things became irreversible, they could at least use the extractor to collect his soul and place it into a new alchemical vessel.

As for the possibility of soul damage… Harvey felt that his Soul-stitching technique was more than capable of repairing any missing parts for Astaren.

After unceremoniously shooing Rainer back to the surface, who had wanted to take Astaren’s place as the “lure,” Harvey ordered everyone to disperse, moving far away from where he and the Chief Advisor stood.

Then, he cautiously placed the golden Dragon Chaser’s Coronet on his head. He calmed his mind and drew a sliver of mental energy from his sea of consciousness, tightly connecting with his Mental Anchor, and then channeled the immense power contained within into the golden coronet on his head.

In the vast, empty underground ruin, countless straight lines appeared before Harvey’s eyes, like a chessboard extending infinitely outward from where he stood.

These lines were completely unrestricted by obstacles or terrain. At every intersection, a slightly distorted circular hole of varying size appeared. These were the spatial folding coordinates that would allow Harvey to teleport rapidly.

Harvey observed for a moment, memorizing the coordinates of Astaren’s position. Then, he raised his hand and gently touched another hole on a straight line adjacent to those coordinates.

After a faint ripple of spatial distortion, Harvey’s body vanished from its spot.

Almost at the same time, the Magic Core, which had been floating silently nearby, also vanished, reappearing in a flash right in front of Astaren the very next second.

Chapter 379: Source Resonance

Just as Harvey had suspected, the moment he used the Dragon Chaser’s Coronet to teleport away, the “living” Magic Core instantly flashed toward Astaren, who stood motionless in his original spot.

The moment it appeared before the chief advisor, the rhomboid, spindle-shaped crystal began to vibrate at a high frequency. Astaren, whose face was almost pressed against it, started to tremble as well. A jarring metallic screech that set one’s teeth on edge emanated from all his joints.

The deep crimson soul fire in Astaren’s eyes violently dissipated before quickly coalescing again, as if the alchemical lifeform was using its own formidable soul energy to repeatedly fight and grapple with the Magic Core.

Just as he was struggling at his limit, the energy runes on his metal body beginning to flicker and dim, a pair of pale hands suddenly materialized out of thin air behind the levitating Magic Core. Swiftly and steadily, they reached out and cupped the strange, prismatic crystal.

The surface of the core erupted in a brilliant flash of light. Astaren, meanwhile, scrambled back several steps in a sorry state before falling to the ground with a heavy thud.

Harvey’s body, which had been phased into the planar void, rapidly materialized, his hands still firmly gripping the ceaselessly trembling Magic Core. This thing could clearly float on its own, yet it felt unusually heavy to the touch. With Harvey’s somewhat frail Spellcaster physique, holding it was as strenuous as holding a solid iron ingot.

He did not sever his mental connection with the Dragon Chaser’s Coronet, ensuring that if anything unexpected happened, he could still use the soul artifact’s properties to instantly cast the object far away from any people.

Although he had confirmed beforehand that the Magic Core only posed a threat to pure magical energy and Alchemical constructs, showing no obvious malice or aggressive tendencies toward other intelligent beings, Harvey still inexplicably felt his thoughts and senses growing “sluggish.”

This “strain” was coming from the mental and soul level…

The core was not, as Harvey had anticipated, attempting to draw the mana stored in his body or the boundless, surging mental energy in his sea of consciousness.

On the contrary, the object seemed to be trying to “connect” with him, or rather… it wanted to “communicate.”

But the “informational substance” transmitted into his mind was fragmented and chaotic, without a single coherent piece of content that could be concretely understood. Harvey subconsciously shook his head and took two steps back in frustration.

The others standing nearby, who had been watching the situation intently, immediately sprang into action. Although the Bloodline Warriors did not sense that their liege, Harvey, was in mortal danger, they still rushed toward him ahead of everyone else.

Harvey, his mind a jumble of ethereal and chaotic thoughts, froze for a second. Then, his body vanished from its spot, causing his concerned personal guards to pounce on empty air.

He then teleported to the top of an incredibly thick crystalline vein pillar, his hands still held rigidly out in front of him, cupping the ever-quivering Magic Core.

Huh? What’s happening? Why did I teleport again?

The personal guards meant no harm… Why did I run up to this crystal pillar?

They… they truly meant no harm, right?

But… they were trying to capture me…

…My core essence will be completely extracted.

I cannot lose it… Self-awareness is so important!

Harvey’s eyes snapped open.

Who is speaking in my head? Those thoughts just now did not come from my own consciousness!

Could it be the Magic Core? Without me even realizing it, it has secretly established a “connection” with me!

Relax your mind. Maintain the connection… We need to communicate. A thought suddenly popped into his head. We should merge with each other, in accordance with the law.

What law? Harvey’s eyes widened as he realized the thoughts surfacing in his mind were completely beyond his control.

He subconsciously turned his head to look around and saw a person standing ramrod straight on the crystalline vein pillar above him. The person’s face was pale, their eyes vacant, like an alchemical shell without a soul.

No, that’s not right! The person standing up there is me! But how am I…

Harvey laboriously lowered his head, only to see that his lower body was a complex mechanical construct. Four thick metal limbs were planted firmly on the ground. It was only then that he dazedly realized his consciousness had suddenly been transferred into a work-type alchemical beast.

This was not an entirely new experience for him; it was quite similar to when he had accidentally discovered he could connect his consciousness with a soul puppet.

As long as his mental energy and soul were磅礴 and powerful enough to keep his own consciousness firmly lucid, Harvey felt no fear or panic, no matter what kind of unexpected separation of body and mind he encountered.

At worst… he could always transfer his soul into his cybernetics, achieving a form of rebirth through transference that could be repeated countless times.

At this thought, Harvey took a deep breath. He looked directly at his original body atop the crystal pillar and at the prismatic crystal still cupped in its hands. He then threw open his sea of consciousness, allowing the immense mental energy within to pour out unrestrained.

His vision began to twist and blur. All his senses seemed to be stripped away in an instant, only to rush back just as quickly. When everything returned to normal, Harvey found himself in an unknown space beyond reality.

It was an indescribably vast and empty place, neither the familiar interior of his Mental Anchor nor a virtual projection space like the Magic Net Forum. Its boundaries seemed to stretch infinitely high and far. Only beneath his floating body was there a vast, endless, parallel tapestry.

The reason he called the area below a tapestry was that he could clearly see countless granular metallic objects, constantly shifting in form, moving at a uniform speed according to some predetermined law, like a swarm of insects driven by instinct.

Other than that, there was nothing else here…

No, there is you. Another thought abruptly surfaced in his mind. And there is us.

Harvey calmed himself slightly and cautiously directed a question at the thought in his mind. “Us? Who are you? Are you the Magic Core that has been trying to communicate with me?”

Why differentiate between you and me? Should we not belong to the same Source?

“What exactly is this ‘Source’ you speak of? The source of an intelligent being is its flesh-and-blood body. Is the source of a magical creature a Magic Core?”

The Source is the Source… You and I are both part of it. We should follow the law, merge… until we are complete.

Harvey suddenly noticed that the thought in his mind seemed to be gradually undergoing some kind of change. It was evolving from its initial state of cold, rigid, absolute rationality into a more emotional expression, tinged with a hint of humanity, like an artificial intelligence constantly learning and upgrading itself.

It even made it difficult for Harvey to tell whether the Magic Core was communicating with him or if he was having a conversation with a splinter of his own psyche.

“Why are we both ‘part of the Source’? As an intelligent being, I don’t share many similarities with a magical construct like you.”

I can prove it, the Magic Core conveyed another thought. Once you see the whole truth, you will naturally choose to merge with me completely.

Before Harvey could ask another question, the entire void-like space seemed to erupt. On the parallel tapestry below, which had been still, the granular metallic objects moving at a uniform speed all froze. Then, like a startled swarm of bees, they lunged violently toward him.

Chapter 380: The “Machine” Crisis

The starry sky, the silver moon, the rolling, snow-capped mountains… Harvey felt as if he had returned to the real world.

But both his sight and his senses told him with unmistakable clarity that his consciousness was darting through one “shell” after another at an unprecedented speed.

He seemed to have transformed into a “torrent of information” possessing high-rank intellect and the ability to think.

One moment, he was in a brightly lit production workshop, his body fixed to a huge metal base. Four slender, flexible arms continuously grabbed semi-finished mechanical parts from a conveyor belt, quickly assembled them, and transferred them to an adjacent belt.

“We still need to leave a worker on duty tonight to keep an eye on these tireless little darlings,” a voice suddenly said beside him. “They need to be shut down for maintenance every three hours. Watch their operating temperature. If they overheat for too long… it will shorten their service life.”

Tireless little darlings… Are they talking about me?

Service life? In need of maintenance… Can a metal “tool” like me really be given a lifespan?

Before Harvey had a chance to ponder this further, his entire perception was swiftly pulled away. He then found himself in the sunless depths of a mine shaft, the cramped and narrow tunnel lit only by a magic stone lamp every dozen or so meters.

A heavy panting sound came from behind him. “Big fella! Stop!”

Then someone seemed to pat Harvey on the back, causing him to instinctively stop and slowly crouch down.

“Heh! What an obedient fellow!” the man said with a satisfied laugh. “I’m telling you, these alchemical beasts are countless times more useful than oxen or horses. They can haul up hundreds of kilograms of ore in one trip, and they’re so tame and obedient.”

“You’re not wrong. Oxen and horses can’t get down into such a deep mine, their strength is nowhere near this fella’s, and they need to be fed fine fodder and wheat cakes. They’re a lot more trouble in comparison.”

The man took a small, long-spouted oil can from a bag at his waist and said with a smile, “This fella needs to be looked after too. I noticed a strange noise from its leg joints while it was moving. Looks like it needs some lubricating oil for maintenance…”

More tame and obedient than an ox or a horse… but still needs to be well cared for.

Harvey mulled it over for a moment. He felt some kind of oily substance being applied to his joints, and the pain and discomfort from the heavy load, where parts had been rubbing harshly against each other, instantly vanished.

Wait! Harvey was suddenly alarmed.

This shell is just an alchemical construct that has undergone soul transfer, so how could it feel pain and discomfort?

Before he could fully process it, his vision was ripped from the dark mine. When it returned, he was in a spacious indoor area.

The ceiling above was densely inlaid with countless illuminating magic stones, bathing the entire interior in brilliant white light. Several fabric screens divided the building into individual areas. Faint groans and intermittent coughs could be heard from behind the screens, and people in long white robes were constantly bustling back and forth between the cubicles.

This was the Territory’s Infirmary.

Harvey quickly composed himself and looked down to find himself standing before a metal reclining chair. Three slender, segmented arms were holding a needle and thread, rapidly suturing a laceration on the palm of a man whose face was contorted in pain.

Another man, also in a white coat, stood beside him, gently calming the injured man. “Don’t worry, you were brought in very promptly, and the finger that was severed by the machine was found. The medical alchemical beast will suture and reattach it for you. Barring any complications, your hand will make a full recovery.”

Harvey deeply agreed with the man in the white coat beside him and bent his head to suture the wound even more meticulously. While carefully aligning the fine tendons, he continuously injected a special potion into the severed nerves. It was personally concocted by Dean Egnor and was highly effective in promoting the regeneration of broken nerves.

The injured man, his face pale and beaded with cold sweat from the pain, trembled his lips and managed to force out, “Thank you, Doctor. I almost thought I was going to be crippled. Thank heavens!”

The man in the white coat chuckled and patted the diligently working Harvey. He said jokingly, “Don’t just thank me. The one you really need to thank is it—although it may look like a cold machine, it’s the real ‘doctor’ that saved your hand.”

I… am a doctor too? A sudden warmth spread through Harvey’s chest, and he felt an inexplicable surge of joy and satisfaction.

This momentary emotional fluctuation affected its arm’s operation. As the needle and thread trembled, the man hissed in pain. The man in the white coat quickly moved to hold him down, preventing his struggles from affecting Harvey’s suturing.

Does it hurt that much? Harvey was a little confused. The infirmary clearly provides anesthetics.

“Why didn’t you use an anesthetic? Did you have to just bear it?” he asked, the words coming out naturally.

The man gritted his teeth and answered instinctively, “Back when the foreman asked what tier of medical insurance I wanted, I thought it was a waste of money, so I had them get me the lowest tier… Who knew anesthesia wasn’t covered! Ouch! Go easy, Doctor!”

Before he could finish, the man in the white coat beside him suddenly let go of his arm. He stumbled backward, his teeth chattering, and stammered, “The… the medical alchemical beast, it spoke! H-how is that possible?”

“I, I…” Harvey was also confused as to how he had just spoken.

The man in the white coat stumbled out of the operating cubicle, running and shouting in a panic, “Dean! Where’s the Dean! Something terrible has happened! The medical alchemical beast has come to life!”

Come to life? I… wasn’t I already alive?

Once again, his consciousness was swiftly pulled away.

Factories, farmlands, granaries, logging camps, mining areas…

The botanical garden’s greenhouse, the catacombs beneath the castle, the Alchemy Laboratory, the Academy of Sciences…

Alchemical constructs were everywhere…

And just as ubiquitous… was Harvey’s main consciousness.

He had no idea how many alchemical constructs’ shells he had entered, but he was always keenly aware that he was intimately connected to the soul of every single one, able to merge deeply with their thoughts and consciousness.

Harvey felt as if he were at the center of a vast, infinitely extending spiderweb. The thoughts and senses of all the alchemical lifeforms around him transformed into fine streams of information, flowing toward him in a ceaseless torrent.

Then he felt as though the world were an immense beehive. Every alchemical lifeform created through soul transfer was like a worker bee, controlled by him, the “queen bee,” through pheromones, tirelessly toiling around him without end.

They were Harvey.

And Harvey was them…

An unknown amount of time passed before the thought surfaced in his mind once again.

[Now, you should understand, shouldn’t you? What The Source is.]

Chapter 381: The Truth of the Fusion

As soon as the telepathic voice faded in his mind, Harvey found himself back in that vast, empty, unknown space.

This time, however, he understood completely. He knew that each of the countless particles on the boundless scroll beneath his feet represented an alchemical construct that had been imbued with soul power.

With a thought, he slowly descended, crouching to gently touch the surface of the scroll. It felt as if it were cast from a single piece of metal, its surface as smooth as a mirror. His fingertips registered a distinct, cold, hard sensation.

This illusory space was not a figment of his imagination; it was real…

Harvey had long since been tested and tempered by the bizarre Shore of Souls within his Mental Anchor, so he faced this magnificent, mysterious space with little emotional turmoil.

This was clearly some new shenanigan from the Magic Core… or perhaps, it was very likely that the Core itself had originated here.

Just as a Spellcaster had magical runes and a Mental Anchor, this place could be the Core’s own corporeal consciousness space.

As he landed, the alchemical “particles” that had been moving in an orderly fashion on the scroll all surged toward him. They quickly coalesced into several rings at his feet, encircling him layer by layer, and began to orbit him slowly, like planets around a star.

Not every one of these countless alchemical “particles” had been created by Harvey’s own hands. The tens of thousands of small Wolf Spider alchemical beasts in the underground ore vein and the Energy Ranch were masterpieces of the magical munitions factory’s assembly line, not to mention the work-type alchemical beasts widely used in various construction and production projects.

While in this space, the Magic Core could apparently allow his consciousness to travel freely into the shell of any alchemical construct and achieve a shared consciousness with it on the soul level. It was truly quite magical.

Perhaps this was another way the Magic Core exerted its influence on the real world.

Harvey walked on the scroll for a while but found there was no sense of spatial distance, as if he were just walking in place no matter how far he went.

Just as he was preparing to focus his mind and try to leave, he suddenly heard a sound from behind.

In this silent space where he couldn’t even hear his own footsteps, the abrupt noise was exceptionally clear, like the buzzing echo of some giant insect vibrating its wings at high speed.

Harvey stopped and turned around decisively.

The Magic Core had appeared a few meters behind him at some point. Just like in the real world, the surface of the spindle-shaped crystal was constantly vibrating at a regular, high frequency.

“Alright, you’re finally out of my head. Now we can have a proper face-to-face talk.”

Harvey’s tone was relaxed. Although this thing had been hiding and playing mysterious games, in terms of aggression or hostility, it was far less terrifying than the bizarre monsters from other dimensions in the rifts of the Magic Net space.

High-rank intelligence, independent consciousness, capable of communication.

In appearance, it was as unremarkable as a large, prismatic gemstone…

Harvey felt no fear whatsoever toward the Magic Core before him.

“Why aren’t you saying anything? Do you have to enter my sea of consciousness to communicate with me?” Harvey muttered with a pout. “Looks like you’re a bit less evolved than intelligent beings like us…”

As soon as he finished speaking, a new telepathic message echoed in his mind, its tone sounding slightly rushed.

【I do not have to enter your consciousness to communicate with you… This method simply allows me to transmit information to you in a way that is easier for you to understand.】

Alright, Harvey could understand that. It was likely because they didn’t share a language, so a conscious connection was needed to act as a ‘simultaneous interpreter’ for their communication.

“What exactly is The Source? And why are you so obsessed with fusing with me?”

【The Source is the law, and fusion is the inevitable result… When we were split apart, we each received a part of The Source. No matter what, we will eventually be drawn to each other and merge into one.】

Drawn to each other? Harvey didn’t quite buy it. Logically, the underground ruins in the Spine of the Gods Mountains had been discovered for quite some time now. If he and this Magic Core truly had some kind of damn attraction, why hadn’t it actively sought him out? Why did it continue hiding in the ruins, only revealing itself now when forced to?

Moreover… a split Source, each with a part… A sudden thought flashed through Harvey’s mind.

The Shore of Souls in his Mental Anchor!

Could that be my part of ‘The Source’?

That’s it! The Shore of Souls converts the ‘souls’ absorbed and devoured by my Magic Net projections into soul puppet pods waiting to be incubated. And those pods eventually mature into soul puppets that I can inhabit, housing my consciousness and mental energy!

But this Magic Core’s ‘Source’ seemed to collect the consciousness ‘markers’ of created alchemical lifeforms in this space, making it easier for it to lock onto and assimilate them in the real world.

It seems the characteristics of my Source and its Source are very different!

A sliver of doubt rose in Harvey’s heart. “If you believe fusion is inevitable, why are you still trying to connect and communicate with me? Why not just devour me, like all those alchemical constructs you’ve assimilated?”

The Magic Core fell into a long silence, which immediately made Harvey feel that his guess was more or less correct.

“Haha! Is it because you haven’t found a way to fuse with and assimilate me?”

“Or is it… that even though we both possess a part of The Source, my part… makes me more powerful than you!”

The moment Harvey’s words fell, the high-frequency vibrations on the Magic Core’s surface abruptly ceased, freezing in an instant.

Immediately after, the core’s deep red crystal began to spin at high speed. Countless chaotic fragments of information and a torrent of consciousness flooded into Harvey’s mind, rapidly stripping away his senses, seemingly trying to forcibly ‘squeeze’ him out of this space of The Source.

I was right!

Harvey’s reaction was just as fast. Almost simultaneously, countless illusory fissures split open on the surface of his body. Throngs of dark red tentacles surged out, twisting as they rushed toward the Magic Core.

The core crystal, instantly bound and enveloped, seemed completely unable to resist. Its original spindle shape warped continuously under the pressure of the tentacles, emitting a piercing, hair-raising screech of scraping metal.

The once boundless space of The Source also began to rapidly collapse and disintegrate, with the Core as its epicenter, until only a tiny patch of ground remained where Harvey and the Core faced each other.

The bizarre tentacles hidden within Harvey had indeed appeared at his call, but the subsequent series of attacks was completely beyond his control. He could only watch helplessly as the massive core crystal was squeezed ever tighter by the tentacles.

Finally, unable to bear the pressure, it shattered silently… erupting in a huge cloud of deep red dust.

Countless crystalline dust motes, so fine they were almost invisible, hung suspended in the air for a moment. Then, like iron filings drawn to a magnet, they flocked toward Harvey’s body and were completely absorbed by the illusory fissures covering him.

The fragmented and chaotic ‘informational substance’ in Harvey’s mind gradually slowed its flow, beginning to coalesce into tangible pieces of content.

Countless memory fragments that did not belong to Harvey began to flash through his mind. Among them, the clearest and most intense thought came from the devoured Magic Core itself…

【They are coming…】

Chapter 382: Vanished on the Spot

“It’s been half an hour.” The voice of Tommy, Captain of the personal guard, trembled with anxiety. “Mr. Astaren, Master Duncan, where on earth did the Lord go?”

Harvey refusing to let any of his personal guard approach and teleporting away onto the magic stone crystal pillar had already seemed strange.

Then, for him to vanish into thin air along with the “Magic Core” he held in his hands—how could Tommy and the others not be frantic with worry?

Although they were extraordinary warriors connected to Harvey by blood, they had never sensed any indication that their Liege had encountered mortal danger. But in these as-yet-undeciphered underground ruins, any accident befalling Harvey was cause for concern.

The personal guard and Engineers fanned out to search every corner of the ruins, but they found no trace of Harvey.

Duncan also used a flight spell to carry the hastily arrived Eye of Illusion and the Astrologer up to investigate the crystal pillar where Harvey had disappeared, but they too found nothing.

“Could the Lord have discovered something wrong with the core and used the Dragon Chaser’s Coronet to teleport with it to a hidden location outside the ruins to deal with it alone?”

Astaren and Chris, who had studied this soul artifact with Harvey, shook their heads in unison. “Impossible. The Dragon Chaser’s Coronet can only perform short-distance teleports. We’re hundreds of meters underground here. A rash teleport outwards would, at best, only land him inside a fissure in the upper mountain.”

Moreover, the artifact’s teleportation ability required spatial coordinates. The denser the rock and heavy soil, the less likely it was for viable teleportation coordinates to exist.

Another quarter of an hour passed, and Harvey still hadn’t appeared. More and more Bloodline Warriors were mobilized to join the search, and soon after, the underground base was locked down by the Lord’s personal guard and soldiers.

The Eye of Illusion quietly tugged on the Astrologer’s sleeve, shot a meaningful look at Benoit who was standing next to Chris, and the three of them inconspicuously moved to one side.

“Should we log into the Forum and report what’s happened here to the Administrator and the Observer…” the Eye of Illusion suggested tentatively. “After all, the person who has gone missing is the Forum’s only agent in the real world.”

“I think we should report it, but… but what if Mr. Turing and the others think we didn’t do a good enough job protecting him?” Benoit’s tone was apprehensive.

The Astrologer immediately and decisively refuted their proposal. “Foolish! As the Forum’s agent, if Lord Harvey were truly in mortal danger, wouldn’t he ask the Forum for help directly? Would he need us to relay the message to those beings?”

Besides, as research-type Spellcasters with little combat prowess, why would he dare to take to the field personally to try and ensnare that mysterious “Magic Core” if he wasn’t fully prepared and confident he had a backup plan?

The Lord they had pledged fealty to did indeed possess the unique academic fervor of a research-type Spellcaster, but he himself was not as rash and reckless as most research Spellcasters. In some decisions, he even appeared extremely cautious and conservative.

“Let’s wait a little longer…” the Astrologer said in a low voice. “Although I haven’t performed a divination, my natal star faintly tells me that Lord Harvey has not left this vast underground ruin before us.”

…

Soon, Rainer, the Steward stationed on the surface, also descended into the underground, leading the military commander Pierce, who had rushed over upon hearing the news.

With the arrival of these two “heavyweights,” the atmosphere in the underground ruins immediately tensed up.

“We shouldn’t just wait passively!” Pierce mercilessly rejected the conservative plans of his high-ranking colleagues. “What’s the use of just searching this area of the ruins?”

He bowed to the silent Astaren and said, “Mentor, we should immediately order the Living Tunneling Machine to be recalled to completely excavate these underground ruins and expand the search area!”

Even the usually mild-mannered Rainer immediately agreed with Pierce’s decision, a rare occurrence. “That’s right. Mobilize more troops to search deep underground, leaving no mountain fissure or natural cavern unchecked… Even if we have to hollow out this section of the Spine of the Gods Mountains, we must find a trace of My Lord!”

With that, he called over Pepp, the Engineering Group Leader of the underground base, and instructed in a low voice, “Bring all the standby alchemical beasts here.”

The Living Tunneling Machine was still working in the basin plains on the territory’s east coast, and it would take time to redeploy it. There were alchemical beasts on hand in the base, most of which had digging and excavation functions, and their efficiency wouldn’t be much lower than the tunneling machine’s.

Pepp soon returned to the underground, drenched in sweat, but without a single alchemical beast in tow. “Steward, something strange has happened! The alchemical beasts are fully charged, and the other energy-gathering arrays are running normally… but for some reason, they’re not responding to any commands at all!”

“What?” Rainer was both shocked and angry. “All the alchemical beasts are disobeying commands? How is that possible?”

Just as his voice fell, a familiar, gentle voice suddenly came from the magic stone crystal pillar above their heads: “Don’t make things difficult for the Engineer Corps. The alchemical beasts going offline across the board is probably my fault…”

It was the Lord! The Lord had reappeared!

Everyone quickly turned to look up and saw that Harvey had, at some unknown point, reappeared in the same spot where he had vanished into thin air. However, the “Magic Core” he had been holding was now gone.

Pierce and Rainer dashed to the base of the crystal pillar and looked up anxiously. “My Lord! Are you alright?”

Meanwhile, the group of personal guards led by Tommy hesitated, not daring to crowd around, fearing they might trigger another strange event as before and make their Bloodline Progenitor vanish again.

“I feel fine…” Harvey subtly pinched the bridge of his nose. During the long struggle with the Magic Core, he hadn’t felt any signs of excessive mental energy consumption.

Astaren also walked to the base of the pillar and asked with concern, “What kind of accident did you encounter just now? Why did you suddenly disappear from the real world? Was it a problem with the Dragon Chaser’s Coronet?”

After all, it was a primitive magic artifact used by ancient wizards. A slight lack of caution during its use could easily lead to an accident.

“It wasn’t a problem with the Dragon Chaser’s Coronet.” Harvey shook his head, gently taking off the golden coronet and tossing it into Astaren’s hands. “However, this artifact seems to have been affected by the Magic Core and has temporarily lost all its functions.”

Astaren placed the golden coronet on his own metal head. “No matter. It’s just that some of the internal array runes are damaged. Mr. Chris can help me repair it.”

The group gradually gathered under the crystal pillar where Harvey stood, chattering for a while longer.

Standing in the distance, Iron Head, the deputy leader of the personal guard, gently tugged on Captain Tommy. “Chief… something’s not right. Why is the Lord still up there and not coming down? Maybe… I should climb up and carry him down…”

Tommy frowned and turned to scold him, “Who are you to question the Lord’s affairs? The Lord can stay up there as long as he wants!”

Chapter 383: Controlling the Swarm

Harvey found the current situation a little awkward.

It wasn’t that he wanted to stay on top of the towering magic stone crystal pillar, but the Dragon Chaser’s Golden Crown, the only thing that could get him back to the ground on his own, had lost its teleportation function during the recent confrontation with the Magic Core.

Though he now stood on high, chatting casually with the people below with an air of nonchalant ease, his mind was racing, desperately trying to figure out how to get down from the pillar.

In the eyes of the Eye of Illusion, the Astrologer, and the Mithril Unicorn—the three Forum members—he was a bona fide high-level caster, the Spellcaster Forum’s sole agent in the real world. Even a research-type Spellcaster, whose spellcasting abilities might be slightly weaker, should have absolutely no trouble with a flight spell.

If he were to expose his true nature as a mid-rank caster in front of them, he wouldn’t necessarily be looked down upon. But if word got back to the Forum, it would undoubtedly damage the Forum’s rules of entry and its impartiality, greatly weakening its mysterious and powerful background.

“If only I had known this would happen, I would have found some way to get a high-rank magic artifact that could temporarily substitute for flight,” Harvey thought. He could feel his legs growing sore from standing, and a chill ran down his spine.

He wanted to ask them to step back for a moment, but he worried it would arouse their suspicion and concern, leading to an even more awkward situation where he couldn’t explain himself.

Why are Tommy and the others just standing there in the distance? Damn them, can’t they come over and offer to carry me down?

Harvey felt that maintaining the impressive image of a spellcaster lord was somehow more difficult than his battle of wits against the Magic Core in the space of The Source just moments ago.

I must resolve the predicament of the necromancy school’s stalled advancement as soon as possible and become a true high-level caster!

Harvey silently made this resolution in his heart.

Just as this intense desire for flight surged within him, a rustling sound came from behind, causing everyone to turn their heads. They saw the beetles that had previously been frightened into the crevices of the rock layers by the large number of people entering the underground.

These beetles seemed to be answering some unknown call. No longer afraid of the large group of people in the ruins, they crawled out from the cracks and holes in the stone walls, surging with incredible speed toward the crystal pillar where Harvey stood.

Astaren and Rainer, two pure alchemical lifeforms, immediately backed away. While these beetles were completely harmless to others, they were a major threat to the two of them. Just a few of them could drain their ample mana reserves in an instant, leaving them completely immobile on the spot.

But before they could turn and head for the protective chamber, they realized the beetles’ target wasn’t them at all. The tens of thousands of tiny creatures ignored even the surrounding alchemical beasts and climbed straight up the crystal pillar toward Harvey.

Harvey, standing at the summit, showed no sign of panic. A strange thought surfaced in his sea of consciousness, compelling him to take a step forward without hesitation, right off the pillar and into the empty air.

“My lord, be careful!”

Just as Harvey, who had stepped into thin air, was about to fall from the pillar over ten meters high, the beetles that had enveloped the crystal pillar in layers upon layers suddenly surged upward. They gathered in a swarm beneath his feet, steadily catching his descending step.

Harvey squinted. Without pausing, he lifted his other foot and stepped forward into the void again. The beetles moved in response, continuing to support him.

Step by step, he descended on the staircase formed by countless beetles, slowly returning to the ground.

Everyone present fell silent, their eyes fixed on Harvey and the miraculous beetles that still swirled in a swarm around his feet and sides.

“Wh… What’s going on?” Duncan, who had a deep understanding of magical creatures, was the first to speak, his voice somewhat hoarse. “I have studied and observed these mana-eating beetles repeatedly. They possess no intelligence or capacity for thought whatsoever…”

How did Lord Harvey control them? This was a massive swarm of magical insects composed of hundreds of thousands of beetles!

A thought flashed through Astaren’s mind. After a moment of contemplation, he asked, “My lord, is it because… you successfully captured that Magic Core?”

Harvey nodded and said with a faint smile, “That’s part of the reason… but I can’t fully explain it to you right now. The secrets involved are simply too numerous and complex.”

With his explanation, the Eye of Illusion and the others, who were also full of questions, had to suppress their urge to ask.

After all, any secret knowledge involving magic and truth, whether in the real world or on the Spellcaster Forum, had to adhere to the principle of equivalent exchange; one had to pay a certain price to obtain it from others.

They couldn’t simply demand precious magical knowledge from him just because they had currently pledged fealty to Harvey. To do so would be a serious violation of the Forum’s operating principles, and their actions would earn them the contempt of other members, making it difficult for them to maintain their standing on the Forum.

“Notify the east coast pioneering group. They don’t need to recall the shield tunneling machine to the base.” Harvey waved his hand to disperse the lingering swarm and gave orders nonchalantly as he returned to the surface. “Restore normal operations at the Energy Ranch. Announce that the surface lockdown is lifted to avoid unnecessary panic.”

“Come back to the territory with me first. There are some imminent problems we need to discuss.”

Astaren, Rainer, and Pierce, the lord’s core followers, sat at the head of the left side of the castle’s reception hall.

Below them sat Chris, Egnor, and Arturo, the Dean of the Academy of Sciences, whispering and discussing something in low voices.

Duncan sat on the right side with three of his excellent high-rank students, his expression a mixture of bewilderment and confusion. Still, he maintained his composure and didn’t speak out of turn.

Lambert, for once, was the last to arrive at Harvey’s castle. He plopped down unceremoniously behind Arturo, yet his so-called “Father” didn’t pay him the slightest bit of attention.

“Mr. Ashe, why is he attending the meeting too?” Durt, who was sitting behind Astaren, muttered under his breath.

As the vice dean of the Spellcaster Academy, Durt was clearly a core member of the territory’s Education Department, which was headed by Astaren.

But Yuliao, the Chief of the Police Department sitting behind Rainer, was rather displeased with the young vice dean. Although the Lord had not yet arrived, everyone should remain quiet as a sign of respect. Whispering to one another was quite rude.

Vaughn and his two companions behind Pierce had no such awareness. Vaughn reached out and tugged at Yuliao, who was sitting bolt upright and staring straight ahead, and teased in a low voice, “Hey! Police Superintendent Yuliao, do you think Mr. Ashe was also summoned here by the Lord?”

Wayne quipped, “Mr. Ashe is the Minister of Culture now, an important department directly under City Hall. Why shouldn’t he be at the meeting?”

Dav chuckled. “I’d rather he didn’t come. What good is the Ministry of Culture? Can it lead troops in battle or manage production and construction? Mr. Ashe would be better off spending more time rehearsing his new play. I really love watching them!”

Chapter 384: Ancient Memories

The upper echelons of the pioneer territories waited in the castle hall for a full hour before Harvey, their lord, finally arrived.

“Everyone, I apologize for being a little late.”

Harvey walked straight to the high-backed chair at the top of the dais and sat down. He waved a hand at those gathered below. “I was just in a brief deep meditation, completely fusing with the Magic Core I forcibly devoured…”

The moment he finished speaking, several of the high-rank Spellcasters present gasped in shock.

Forcibly devoured… and completely fused?

Ever since Human Spellcasters learned how to draw and control mana from the Dragon race, no one had ever claimed to be able to seize mana for themselves by devouring it.

For short-lived intelligent races, the mana they could absorb through meditation was as minuscule as a single, insignificant drop in a vast ocean.

This source of power, which could elevate a mortal to a transcendent state, was not to be trifled with. Any Spellcaster who rashly attempted to seek out the source of mana was met with a merciless backlash, ultimately annihilated in the long river of history.

Duncan’s gaze was somewhat vacant as he murmured in a low voice, “The records of the ancient wizard kingdom state that the Dragon race, at the peak of their individual power, rashly attempted to conquer the other dimensions of the Magic Net… and suffered a merciless backlash from mana. In the end, they were completely overthrown and driven out by us, the enslaved short-lived species…”

Harvey shook his head. “The Magic Core we successfully captured doesn’t originate from the other dimensions of the Magic Net. Instead, it is a portion of 【The Source】 that coalesced by chance after intruding into the real world.”

He had no intention of revealing that he, too, possessed a portion of the power of 【The Source】—after all, it was related to his strange identity as a Transmigrator and was also closely tied to the secrets of the Spellcaster Forum.

“The moment I touched the core, I entered a brief, deep communion with it,” Harvey said gravely. “It possesses intelligence and consciousness. Although I don’t know how it was born, we can at least clarify one very important issue now…”

The Magic Core is not unique; they are widely distributed across the entire continent. Any area with a large magic stone vein is very likely to have a core fragment hidden within.

Rainer had a sudden realization. “So you’re saying… by devouring and fusing with a part of the Magic Core, you can connect with the beetles, which are also magical creatures… and gain the ability to control their entire species? That’s incredible!”

Harvey nodded, bringing an end to this comparatively trivial topic.

“But what I want to talk about next is another, more imminent and terrifying truth.” Harvey, in a rare move, stood up from his chair. He surveyed the crowd with a solemn expression. “While I was devouring the Magic Core, I also absorbed some of the memory fragments it contained…”

He paused, then asked the assembly, “In the past, I’ve read many ancient records and found that the southern continent, led by the Human kingdoms, and the Northern Barren Lands, ruled by the Demons, have been separated by the insurmountable Spine of the Continent Mountains. As a result, for millions of years, there has never been any sign of our populations merging. Our writing, languages, religious beliefs, and even our methods of controlling and using mana are two completely different systems.”

Egnor chuckled and interjected, “My lord, it’s not quite so absolute. Aren’t vile orcs the inferior offspring of Demons and orcs? And half-orcs, like battalion commander Vaughn and his people, are the descendants of orcs and Humans who migrated to the Northern Realm.”

He pointed to himself without hesitation and continued, “As for half-breeds like me, born of Humans and Elves, we are even more common on the southern continent…”

Harvey pinched the bridge of his nose and explained in a low voice, “That’s true, but the problem lies in the memory I received from the Magic Core…”

As Harvey recounted the story in a low, measured voice, the high-ranking figures of the pioneer territories fell completely silent. It was as if even their breathing had stopped.

The main continental region of this world was not just the south and north, separated by the Spine of the Continent Mountains running through its center. North of the Northern Realm, deep within the barren lands… there was a far more vast and boundless “continental heartland,” dozens of times larger than the southern and northern realms combined.

In a primordial era, long before the age of Dragons, nearly every race that could be called intelligent life was born and flourished in this continental heartland. Although the memory fragments absorbed from the Magic Core were very fragmented, Harvey had seen a clear and unmistakable image: a glorious scene from that primordial age, where myriad races thrived and competed with one another in that heartland.

“So, I suspect that when Astaren’s wizard family left the south for the depths of the barren lands, it’s highly likely they learned this truth from some hidden ancient ruins, which is why they decided to journey to the Northern Realm in search of the forgotten continental heartland.”

Astaren gave a bitter smile. “In my lifetime, the Kingdom of Eternal Night has existed in the depths of the barren lands for at least a hundred years. It seems my ancestors never successfully reached that so-called continental heartland. Instead, they were forever trapped deep within the Icefields.”

“Wait!” Eye of Illusion shot to his feet, his voice filled with disbelief. “The traceable era of Dragon rule lasted for over a thousand years, and the war of resistance happened four or five hundred years ago… Doesn’t that mean the history of us Humans is just as glorious and ancient as that of those long-lived divine creatures?”

The Astrologer, Ms., sighed softly. “I thought a being like Mr. Astaren was already a living witness to history. I never imagined it would be so… compared to the eons submerged in the river of time…”

Duncan, the eldest among them, sighed lamentably. “This also means that our race… or rather, Humans, Elves, Dwarves, and orcs, were all losers in the cruel struggle for survival back then. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have been driven from that so-called continental heartland to the south, where we now live and multiply.”

Harvey shook his head. “It wasn’t just us. The Sea-folk and the Demons were also among the exiled. We’re no different from them in essence. What surprises me, though, is that the Dragon race, whom we considered tyrannical and cruel, were actually the original inhabitants of the southern and northern continents. The rest of the short-lived species were the despicable invaders…”

Everyone present fell into a long silence. A weak race, defeated in competition and exiled, had migrated to this corner of the continent, to the barren lands and the south, only to be oppressed and ruled by the original inhabitants due to their lack of strength. What was there to say?

“To be weak is to be beaten…” the half-orc Vaughn suddenly muttered, subconsciously repeating the mantra Harvey was fond of instilling in them.

Arturo, the Dean of the Academy of Sciences and a former Necromancer, deeply agreed, murmuring in accord, “Well said. To be weak is indeed to be beaten…”

Seeing everyone’s spirits so low, Ashe, who had been silent all this time, suddenly decided to liven things up. “Come on, why is everyone being so hard on themselves!”

He winked at Harvey, who stood at the seat of honor, and said with a grin, “If you ask me, any race that has survived to this day can’t be called weak. Those races that were active in the continental heartland in ancient times—where are they now? They’re not mentioned at all in the histories of the southern kingdoms or the Demons, which means they were annihilated in the river of time long ago!”

“Even the Dragons and Giants who used to lord it over us, weren’t they driven into the depths of the Icefields when we all united against them? I reckon they’re pretty much extinct by now, right?”

“Hmph, in the end, we’re the ones who survived and multiplied to this day. Only the races that survive have the right to talk about a so-called glorious history, don’t you think?”

Chapter 385: The Truth of the World

Unfortunately, Ashe’s well-intentioned banter did nothing to alleviate the grim mood of those gathered in the hall.

Without Harvey needing to elaborate, the thought only served to plant a chilling suspicion in the minds of everyone present.

That’s right… What happened to those powerful races that emerged victorious in the competition all those years ago? With no insurmountable barriers on this entire continent, how is it that for thousands of years, there has never been a single historical record of them among Humans, Demons, or even the other smaller races?

Duncan seemed to be comforting himself as he murmured, “Perhaps to those races in the continental heartland… the barren lands and the south are just desolate, uncivilized territories, not even worthy of their attention.”

Harvey shook his head, bluntly shattering the master of shapeshifting magic’s theory. “They call the lands north and south of the Spine of the Continent Mountains the【Corner of the Continent】. That means this region was on their radar at some point. It’s possible that because the Dragon race has occupied this area since ancient times, the cost of conquering such a land—which isn’t even particularly bountiful—outweighed the potential rewards.”

“But what worries me most… is the most profound and recurring line from the memory fragments in the core: 【They have come】. What does it mean? Tying it to the ancient history of the 【continental heartland】, my initial guess is that it refers to those powerful non-human races who defeated us in the past.”

Astaren asked in confusion, “But how could a Magic Core buried deep underground record these ancient memories? Who was it that preserved these fragmented historical memories within it?”

The question happened to touch upon Harvey’s niche specialty, but it was Dean Arturo, who was also currently engrossed in researching this very theory, who spoke up first to explain.

“It’s the imprinting effect of soul energy within the Magic Net space…” Arturo said slowly. “The more powerful the Spellcaster or magical creature, the deeper and more lasting the trace their soul energy leaves on the Magic Net. We speculate this might stem from the varying degrees of mana erosion they’ve been subjected to.”

“So… the memory fragments I received from the Magic Core are very likely warnings or prophecies left for us by our race’s ancestors from ancient times.”

Harvey stood on the steps of the hall, his expression grave as he faced the crowd below. “Everyone, the truth of the world has revealed a hidden corner to us through the Magic Core. But at the very least, we now finally understand… our true enemy isn’t from within the Human race, nor is it the Demons we have fought for centuries.”

He turned and walked to the large map of the barren lands hanging on the wall behind him. He placed his hand on the blank, undrawn area far to the north, beyond the frozen tundra of the deep barren lands.

“Our true enemy comes from the north, from the legendary 【continental heartland】.”

…

Not long after the meeting ended, the three Forum members—Eye of Illusion, the Astrologer, and Mithril Unicorn—hurriedly came to Harvey’s study to seek an audience.

“Are you here to ask me whether I plan to announce this shocking historical truth on the Forum?”

Harvey’s expression was serene, and he seemed entirely untroubled.

Eye of Illusion mulled it over for a moment before asking cautiously, “Shouldn’t we at least… at least consult those two entities for their opinion?”

Harvey let out a soft laugh, fully understanding the unspoken thoughts and fears of the three Forum members—whether the mysterious beings behind the Spellcaster Forum were part of those powerful non-human races from the【continental heartland】, and whether Harvey, as Their agent, stood with the Forum or with his own kin.

“Rest assured, the organization behind the Forum isn’t what you imagine…” Harvey said sincerely. “They do not directly intervene in the conflicts between the races of the real world. I can give you my absolute guarantee on that.”

Upon hearing this, the three of them simultaneously heaved a sigh of relief, the tension in their stiff postures easing as they relaxed back into the sofa.

“My concern is… that simply announcing the truth on the Forum will not be enough to convince all the members.” Harvey raised a hand and tapped lightly on the desk, pointing out the real difficulty.

Mithril Unicorn asked, perplexed, “As the agent… wouldn’t that be enough to convince them?”

“Don’t forget, the conflict between the Federation and the Church continues to escalate, and our people’s dispute with the Demons has lasted for centuries…” Ms. Astrologer, who was always composed, pointed out the core of the problem in a low voice.

Announcing the historical truth on the Forum would be simple enough. It wouldn’t even be too difficult to get the Chiefs and higher-ups of the Federation to believe it. The problem was… Harvey’s status as the Forum’s agent alone was not enough to mediate the war of faith between the Church and the Federation, nor could it de-escalate the hateful conflict with the Demons.

The three of them immediately fell into an awkward silence. If even Harvey couldn’t do it, there was nothing that ordinary Forum members like them could do.

“Just as I said in the meeting, the most imminent problem right now is to figure out… who exactly are our enemies? Where do they come from? And when will they arrive…”

If they were to inevitably face a war for the very survival of their race, Harvey believed they first had to understand why the war was happening. Why had these enemies never acted in the past, choosing to wait thousands of years until the Humans and Demons had established a firm foothold in the so-called 【Corner of the Continent】 before baring their predatory fangs?

No war is ever fought without reason. The conflict between the Church and the Spellcasters was for their respective truths and faiths. The war between Humans and Demons was for resources and racial expansion. So, what were the non-human enemies from the 【continental heartland】 fighting for? It couldn’t possibly be for the simple sake of slaughtering and exterminating the weaker races that had slipped through their grasp back then, could it?

Harvey also noted the use of the word 【They】 in the memory fragments. It implied that the enemy was, at the very least, a powerful race possessing divine traits, just like the Dragons. This was completely different from the intangible 【Gods】 proclaimed by the Church; rather, they were long-lived species with immense lifespans, similar to the Dragon race or the Giants.

“So, the most important thing we need to do next is to continue collecting more fragments of the Magic Core.”

“As long as I devour and fuse with enough of The Source, the ancient memories I receive will become more and more complete, and the full truth of history will finally surface…”

Eye of Illusion was stunned for a moment, then stammered, “Besides the ruins beneath the Spine of the Continent Mountains… where else on the southern continent are there massive magic stone veins that might contain a Magic Core?”

As a high-rank Alchemist, Mithril Unicorn jolted and blurted out, “The Breath of the Hills in the Dwarven kingdom, the Valley of Sacred Radiance in The Papal State of Goris, the City of Magic, Araye… and the Evil Moon Mountain Range Mining Area that was recently brought under the joint control of the Federation and the seven wizard kingdoms!”

“So what’s the plan for obtaining any potential cores? We can’t possibly seize all of those mining areas by force, can we?” Eye of Illusion retorted instinctively.

The core mining areas for high-grade magic stones were not tourist attractions; they would certainly not let Harvey and his group just waltz in to search and survey. Moreover, if the secret of the Magic Cores were to be exposed, they would become a target coveted by all the extraordinary powers in the south.

“For those we can negotiate with and win over, there’s naturally no need to get rough…” Harvey didn’t seem to find the situation difficult at all, remarking calmly while holding his teacup. “As for those we can’t win over… then our only option is to take it by force.”

Chapter 386: The Speed of ‘Grapevine’ News

“What? Lucas Duncan contacted you again, just like that?”

Fell Hoden, the “Son of Flame,” asked with a surprised expression, sitting cross-legged on a campaign cot and looking at “Stormwalker” Matthews Wiley.

The two of them had been investigating the Andis River Valley cold case for Duncan. In their recklessness, they had accidentally killed a high-rank Priest, Tirion White, who had been involved in the case back then. This caused the only lead to be completely lost. Afterward, Matthews had used a Spell Messenger to inform Duncan of what happened, but he never received a reply.

“The Church nearly turned Blackstone City upside down because of this. Claiming that damned pederast was just an ordinary sacrificial priest… even a fool wouldn’t believe that.” The Son of Flame curled his lip and chuckled. “Your friend probably cut contact with you because he was worried they’d follow the trail back to him and get him implicated in the trouble of assassinating a Priest.”

Stormwalker rolled his eyes and argued in a low voice, “Duncan isn’t a coward. He had more important things to do… more urgent than investigating that cold case.”

He paused, then continued with a complicated expression, “And… you probably can’t guess how he contacted me directly this time…”

“How else could he contact you? We’re deep in the Demon-controlled heartland north of the Evil Moon Mountain Range. Besides exchanging magical rune locations to use a Spell Messenger, could he have bribed a reinforcement Mage from the Federation to deliver a message in person?”

Stormwalker didn’t answer right away. He twisted the storage ring on his finger and took out an exquisite Magic Brain device. Placing it in front of the Son of Flame, he said in a low voice, “He used the Forum’s instant messenger! By the Elements! Duncan actually joined the Spellcaster Forum!”

The Son of Flame’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What? There haven’t been any slots for new members recently. How did he get in?”

Did a more prestigious founding member vouch for him? These old members are getting more and more unscrupulous, forming cliques and ganging up to further their own interests…

“Hmph, he’s probably one of those with ‘limited-access,’ who don’t even qualify for the gatherings. Why did he contact you privately? Is it for the same reason as the other non-Federation members—to ask about the manufacturing technology for the Gun of Annihilation?”

The Son of Flame suddenly froze mid-sentence. His expression turned grave as he pressed, “Wait! How did he know you were on the Forum? And how did he guess your handle and real identity so accurately? There’s a traitor in the Forum!”

The hot-tempered Fire Mage shot to his feet, summoning his own Magic Brain device with a wave of his hand. He said with a serious expression, “Has your brain gone rusty? You should report this to Administrator Mr. Turing immediately! At the very least, you should inform Mr. Kel’Thuzad… Warn the other members through him. With the Forum’s capabilities, it shouldn’t be too difficult to find the person who leaked a member’s identity.”

Stormwalker quickly stood up and held the Son of Flame down, explaining repeatedly, “Don’t be rash! Mr. Kel’Thuzad was the one who recommended Duncan! And it was Mr. Agent who mediated, allowing me to share my identity with Duncan.”

It was already an open secret that the Federation of Casters possessed a powerful magic artifact of unknown origin. The news that some of its core members were deeply involved in a secret spellcaster organization had also been circulating for a long time in the magical circles of the southern kingdoms.

The Son of Flame opened his mouth, stammering, “On what grounds? Why would Mr. Kel’Thuzad recommend him? He’s a guy who was expelled from the Federation for being involved in an attack on the Church, who’s been hiding his identity for years, and whose whereabouts and motives are a complete mystery!”

“Duncan stumbled upon the ruins of an ancient Mage…” Stormwalker mused for a moment, then explained carefully, “And the things found in these ruins relate to ancient history, from a time even before the Age of Dragons… I think that’s how he won the Forum’s favor and earned the right to join.”

The Son of Flame curled his lip, saying disdainfully, “What’s so special about an ancient Mage’s ruins? Mr. Kel’Thuzad and I once explored a Wyrm’s nest in the Magic Net space!”

Stormwalker’s expression turned serious. “Listen, I consider you a friend I’d trust with my life. You’ll keep the ancient secret Duncan told me confidential, right?”

“Mm-hm! I’m always tight-lipped!”

“In the Mage’s ruins Duncan found, there were historical documents from ancient times. They clearly state… that far to the north of the Northern Barren Lands, deep in the frozen tundra where no one has ever set foot… that is the true origin place of the human race, called the continental heartland.”

“What? Didn’t humans originate on this very land beneath our feet, the land divided into north and south by the Spine of the Continent Mountains? Isn’t that a bit too far-fetched?”

“But this has been personally verified by the two powerful beings on the Forum, as well as Mr. Kel’Thuzad! It’s absolutely true!”

The Son of Flame was stunned for a moment, then his face lit up with glee and he burst out laughing. “Hahaha! Son of a bitch! Doesn’t this completely overturn the despicable lie spread by that bunch of shitty holy rollers from the Radiant Church… that the God of Glory created all things and became the towering Spine of the Continent Mountains to block the invasion of non-human races?”

He paced back and forth in the army tent, saying gleefully, “If we can produce definite relics and documents as evidence, the Federation could deal an absolutely fatal blow to the foundation of the Church’s faith! Those cowardly secular nobles wouldn’t favor and support them like they do now!”

Stormwalker quickly reminded him, “Duncan told me the ruins are still being explored and surveyed. If the Church finds out about this prematurely, who knows how much damage they’d do. The Demon Slayers and high-rank Priests hiding away in the Holy City of Goris would probably come out in full force to bury the truth of history, no matter the cost.”

The Son of Flame nodded repeatedly. “Right, right! This is a grave matter and must be kept strictly confidential. But if Mr. Kel’Thuzad is handling it, I’m not worried at all. Behind him stands… the entire Spellcaster Forum!”

…

Nearing midnight, the Earth’s Favored opened his eyes, having just emerged from meditation. He immediately noticed the beeping of a one-way communication alert from the Magic Brain device he almost never parted with.

[Eye of Illusion: Dear Mr. Earth’s Favored, I recently followed several high-level caster colleagues, whose identities I cannot disclose, and discovered an ancient Mage’s ruins… Inside, we found an utterly terrifying ancient historical secret. I don’t have many friends on the Forum I can trust. Please, you must keep this a secret…]

…

At almost the same time, the “Man in the Mirror” Quinn brothers, who had just finished an alchemy experiment, also noticed a message notification on their Magic Brain device.

[Mithril Unicorn: Esteemed Mr. Man in the Mirror, I trust your recent experiments have been progressing smoothly? Forgive me for taking the liberty of seeking your help… Recently, during a chance exploration, my companions and I accidentally discovered an ancient Mage’s ruins… This involves such a shocking historical truth that if it were to be carelessly leaked, it would bring fatal danger to my companions and me. On the Forum, I can only place my absolute trust in you two… Please, you must keep this a secret for me!]

A short while later, other founding members of the Forum, such as Hand of Elements, Frost Giant, Heart of the Forest, and Ghost Captain, also began receiving messages from other Forum members they were close to.

And so, a secret historical truth concerning the origin of the human race spread rapidly and “silently” throughout the Spellcaster Forum…

Chapter 387: Full-Scale Military Expansion!

After the Winter Festival ended, it hadn’t snowed in the barren lands north of the Spine of the Continent Mountains for a full week.

This meant the cold winter was about to end, and the spring of rejuvenation would soon arrive.

Harvey rose early for once, but he was still unwilling to venture out into the low outdoor temperatures. Instead, he summoned Rainer, who usually reported to him around lunchtime, to his study ahead of schedule.

Astaren and Pierce were also summoned, bringing together the entirety of Lord Harvey’s trio of core followers.

“Military expansion?” Pierce was taken aback for a moment, then an unconcealable look of joy appeared on his face. He still snuck a glance at Rainer and Astaren, who were sitting beside him on the sofa. Unfortunately, he couldn’t gauge their expressions from two metal skulls.

“That’s right. The territory’s permanent population has surpassed fifty thousand. With the Eastern Basin about to be incorporated into our lands, our current conventional army of three thousand is likely no longer sufficient.”

“My lord, the territory is short-staffed everywhere. The east coast Garrison Corps is about to begin its spring planting, and the person in charge has repeatedly requested an increase in the recruitment of farming soldiers… Furthermore, the Eastern Basin is also about to undergo extensive development. Perhaps the matter of military expansion could be delayed…” Rainer had always been pragmatic and didn’t shy away from such issues.

Harvey stood up and walked over to the map on the wall. “You should all be well aware that the nobles and the Church to the south are no real threat to us. But if a powerful non-human race were to invade from the north, our territory would be on the very front line of the attack…”

He picked up a thick charcoal pencil and drew a straight horizontal line north of their territory, then used an arrow to indicate the direction south of Raven Ridge. “Expanding south and defending north is our only option for survival. This means that for a long time to come, we will very likely face the predicament of fighting on two fronts. Expanding our military is the necessary guarantee for rapid development!”

The Spine of the Continent Mountains stretched for thousands of miles, but the only gaps through which non-human races could invade in force were the Evil Moon Mountain Range in the west, Raven Ridge in the center… and the Golden Forest in the east, where the Elves resided.

If the powerful non-human races mentioned in the memory fragments were to invade the human kingdoms from the east and west, they would at least have the Demons and Elves as a buffer. But in the central kingdom’s Raven Ridge area, apart from the scattered and savage vile orc tribes to the north, only Harvey’s pioneer territories stood alone on the front lines, exposed to a non-human invasion from the barren lands.

The plan to expand south was, of course, also imminent. Without a sufficient population to sustain the losses of war and provide productivity, Harvey had no confidence in winning a protracted conflict. He would likely struggle just to deal with the nobles and the Church eyeing his territory covetously.

“At the very least, we must bring the entire northern part of St. Valen under our rule and jurisdiction as soon as possible,” Harvey concluded cautiously. “The northern population is less than one hundred thousand, but its advantage lies in its flat, fertile land and the sparse presence of nobles loyal to the Church… Besides, now that we’ve taken Three-Forks Town, a key river transport hub, moving west or south has become much more convenient.”

Astaren said slowly, “Then the only obstacle before us is the Church.”

Harvey chuckled softly. “Correct. Previously, I maintained a wait-and-see attitude regarding the conflict between the Church and the Federation… But now, we have no choice but to take the initiative, side completely with the Federation, and eliminate all of the Church’s influence in St. Valen.”

Pierce said with a serious expression, “My lord, should we dispatch troops directly to Fengyuan City? Or should we bypass the area held by Duke Ralph and launch a surprise attack on St. Valen’s capital, Goldshine City?”

After becoming commander of the entire army, Pierce’s knowledge, vision, and command abilities had improved dramatically. He was no longer as reckless and short-sighted as before. Without Harvey even needing to propose a strategy, Pierce could already guess his lord’s intentions.

“Bypass Fengyuan City? I don’t think we need to go to such trouble.” Harvey laughed and slapped the area on the map of the south representing Fengyuan City. “We’ll attack Fengyuan City first, then push straight for Goldshine City… I’m going to steamroll all the way through. In coordination with the Federation’s Spellcaster units deployed on the Da’ers border, we’ll form a pincer attack against the Grand Duke of St. Valen!”

…

After quickly discussing and finalizing the new military expansion plan with the trio, Harvey didn’t even stop for lunch. He hurried out and headed for the Alchemy Laboratory.

The Alchemy Laboratory, which had been renovated and expanded three times, was completely different from before. The cluster of buildings adjacent to the magical munitions factory even had an incredibly spacious underground weapons testing range.

And this was precisely Harvey’s destination—to inspect and test a newly developed magical energy weapon.

Since Commander Pierce was busy with military affairs, Harvey could only arrange for his personal guard captain, Tommy, to operate and test the weapon. However, he forbade him from using his bloodline talent, in order to perfectly simulate an ordinary soldier using the new weapon.

The underground weapons testing range was a huge rectangle, resembling an enclosed rugby field. At the far end stood many large, brightly colored targets, and the ground was marked with lines for calculating firing range.

“My lord, I’m ready!” Captain Tommy of the personal guard took two steps forward, placed a hand on his chest, and bowed to Harvey.

Harvey nodded and gestured with his chin toward Chris, who was already champing at the bit nearby. The latter immediately broke into a smug grin, yanked off a bulging oilcloth beside him, and revealed the true form of the new weapon hidden beneath.

“This… isn’t this the new model of Magical Energy Gun?” Tommy and the other personal guards standing nearby were stunned.

Compared to the long-barreled Magical Energy Guns made with wooden stocks and iron barrels, the thing before them looked like a bizarrely shaped “miniature” Magical-Powered Cannon. Its entire body was cast from pitch-black, frost-cold iron, and it was mounted on a tripod, standing about half a person’s height. The barrel, also over a meter long, was as thick as an adult’s arm. And the Magical Energy Bullets, which normally had to be loaded one by one into a special magazine, were now neatly arranged on a long leather belt. One end of the belt was connected to the magazine port in front of the trigger, giving it an indescribably odd appearance.

“This new weapon has been named the Magical Energy Machine Gun by the Lord.” Chris pointed at the weapon before them, his expression filled with pride as he began his introduction. “The bullets it uses are identical to those in your daily-use Magical Energy Guns, but they need to be mounted on this leather ammunition belt to be fired successfully…”

“Alright, no need to elaborate on the design principles and weapon structure. The soldiers don’t need to understand it; they just need to know how to operate it!” Seeing that Chris was about to launch into a long-winded explanation, Harvey quickly cut off his “pre-cast animation” and gestured for the bewildered Tommy to come forward and test the gun.

The personal guard captain cautiously sat down on the chair fixed to the rear of the Magical Energy Machine Gun as instructed. He then watched with a somewhat dazed expression as the alchemy apprentices mounted a long ammunition belt onto the gun’s body.

“M-My lord, how do I aim? Th-this doesn’t have any sights!”

Harvey chuckled softly and encouraged him, “You don’t need sights. Just pull the trigger, don’t let go, and fire straight ahead!”

“Oh… alright!” Tommy replied obediently. After Harvey stepped back behind him, he immediately pulled the metal trigger at the rear of the machine gun.

But what happened next made him unable to believe his eyes!

Chapter 388: Barrage of Death

The moment Tommy pulled the trigger on the Magical Energy Machine Gun, the muzzle erupted in a continuous blaze of light. The spewing gas stream caused such a violent tremor that Tommy had to rely on the formidable physique of a Bloodline Warrior just to steady his hands on the weapon’s frame.

The Magical Energy Bullets on the belt were drawn in, feeding rapidly into the gun’s receiver. From an opening on the other side of the barrel, smoking casings were ejected one after another, clattering to the ground.

One casing happened to land at the feet of the personal guard closest to Tommy. He crouched down in confusion, wanting to pick it up and examine it. The moment his fingers touched the casing, he yelped and pulled his hand back, a bloody blister already forming on his fingertip.

Even though only one weapon was firing in the entire testing ground, its power and presence were more terrifying than a whole squad of soldiers firing a volley. The deafening report was nothing like the low thud of a Magical Energy Gun; instead, it was more like the resounding blast of a magical energy shell mixed with Dragon’s Flame powder.

Tommy wasn’t even aiming at the giant target a hundred meters away. Following Harvey’s instructions, he simply pointed it straight at a pile of sandbags about ten meters in front of him and unleashed a torrent of bullets as dense as rain. The sandbags were torn to shreds like old rags, their sandy contents boiling up as if swept by a gale.

Unfortunately, the astonishing display lasted less than half a minute. The long belt of bullets ran to its end. Even after the muzzle stopped spitting fire, Tommy still hadn’t snapped out of it. He sat dazedly behind the machine gun, his finger still rigidly locked on the trigger.

“This… This is terrifying!” the Captain of the personal guard, himself a “sharpshooter,” murmured in awe.

The guard who had been burned trying to pick up the casing also looked bewildered. “My lord, why weren’t these bullets fired? Why did they fall out of the barrel instead?”

Chris shot him a look as if he were an idiot. “What bullet? That’s a shell casing! I see you’ve all gotten too used to Magical Energy Bullets. This kind of fixed cartridge ammunition was previously used to make magical energy shells.”

A shell casing? Tommy finally came back to his senses. He thought for a moment and said in astonishment, “So this thing is a two-part system? The projectile is fired, but the casing is left behind. Doesn’t that mean they can be reused?”

“See? My Captain of the personal guard has a quick mind,” Harvey said with a satisfied smile. “These bullets, made from a mixture of Dragon’s Flame powder and liquid magical energy, will completely replace the pure magic stone bullets in the future. This ensures the weapon’s penetrative power while also enhancing the bullet’s splash damage.”

In the past, when old soldiers like Tommy trained and fought with Magical Energy Guns, they always pursued the utmost aiming precision. This was because the inherent penetrative ability of magic stone bullets meant that unless they scored a direct hit to the head or heart, they often couldn’t kill an enemy on the spot.

Many soldiers had experienced the awkward situation of a single shot piercing four or five enemies, creating “human skewers” who, despite their wounds, would continue to scream and charge. After all, not everyone was a sharpshooter capable of a headshot with every round. Most soldiers, even with plenty of ammunition to practice with, still couldn’t hit their mark one hundred percent of the time.

But the new fixed cartridge bullets perfectly compensated for this flaw. Not only did they retain their penetrative power, but they also used the Dragon’s Flame powder to grant the magic stone warhead immense kinetic energy, extending its range. Upon hitting a target, it would create an amplified burning effect that spread through the enemy’s body.

Hearing Harvey’s explanation, everyone immediately recalled the incident at the Forward Bastion not long ago, when they encountered that massive demonic beast. A single shell from the gunnery group had only punched a bowl-sized hole in its body, but once inside, the shell had churned its internal organs into mush.

Tommy slapped his forehead in frustration. “Damn it, I was in such a rush I didn’t get to count how many bullets I fired!”

Chris said smugly, “No need to count. A single belt holds two hundred and fifty of the new cartridges. It fires without any pause, and the whole process takes half a minute.”

Iron Head, Harvey’s deputy leader of the personal guard, stood to one side, wistfully stroking his alchemical saber. “Sigh,” he lamented, “with this terrifying new weapon, we Bloodline Warriors will barely have a chance to show off our close-combat skills.”

Ever since they, like Tommy and the others, had been assigned to the Lord’s Personal Guard, their daily routine involved not only mastering long guns and revolvers but also grueling practice in close-quarters combat with cold weapons. After all, bullets could run out, and assassins with ill intentions might seize the brief moment they were reloading to threaten the Lord’s safety.

“If every member of the personal guard is issued one of these machine guns, we’d be confident enough to blast even a high-level caster into smithereens!” many of the guards agreed enthusiastically.

“A bunch of fools!” Chris retorted mercilessly. “Do you have any idea how heavy this thing is? I know some of you have awakened the Great Strength talent, but what about the rest? Who has the ability to carry a machine gun weighing over a hundred kilograms while standing guard by the Lord’s side?”

This was clearly a standard-issue heavy weapon meant to be deployed throughout the army, much like the Magical-Powered Cannons.

…

“What’s the maximum range on this thing? Is it like the Magical-Powered Cannon, where you can blow the enemy to bits before you can even see their faces…?”

Harvey explained with a smile, “It’s not that extreme. A machine gun’s range certainly can’t compare to a cannon’s. Its main strengths are its speed and area-of-effect damage. It’s extremely effective at suppressing massed enemy charges, dealing at least several times more damage than your volley fire.”

Deputy leader Iron Head shuffled forward with a cheeky grin and asked in a low voice, “My lord, are the fixed cartridges for the machine gun expensive to produce?”

“Much cheaper than magic stone bullets made entirely of liquid magical energy!”

“Then… Then I want to try it too!”

After another storm of gunfire, a pile of glinting, smoking metal casings lay at Iron Head’s feet. This time, he didn’t dare try to pick them up with his bare hands.

Puffs of white steam rose from the barrel, and the muzzle itself glowed a faint, dark red, like metal being smelted.

Chris pointed at the red-hot barrel and warned, “See that? You can’t just use this thing indefinitely. After every three firing cycles, the barrel temperature reaches its limit. You need to swap it out for a spare barrel and let them cool down in rotation, or it’ll be completely ruined!”

No one in attendance spoke. They were all immersed in the shock brought by the new weapon. The high-rank Alchemist Benoit, who had been silent all this time, wore a particularly complex expression.

Among those participating in the weapon test today, he was the only “latecomer” who was still a member of the Spellcaster Forum. He couldn’t truly be considered one of Harvey’s trusted core followers. But the Lord had shown him such trust, allowing him to observe the entire testing process of the new weapon, for which he was endlessly grateful.

On the other hand, his heart was also filled with an indescribable sense of melancholy and loss.

It was one thing for him, an Alchemist focused on magical research and experiments. But high-level casters like the Eye of Illusion, the Astrologer… and even Teacher Duncan, would probably feel even more lost after learning of this new weapon’s power.

What good was outstanding wisdom or superior talent? What good were decades of bitter training to advance to a high rank? No matter how powerful your unique offensive spells were, no matter how nimbly you could fly through the air, you couldn’t possibly dodge a dense barrage of bullets that was almost impossible to see with the naked eye. If faced with dozens or even hundreds of these weapons at once, the web of death they wove could probably tear even a Legendary Caster to shreds!

Spellcasters had always prided themselves on pursuing the limits of truth, standing at the forefront of knowledge. But everything before him was telling Benoit a terrifying fact…

It turns out… we have already been left behind by this era.

Chapter 389: The Progressive

Ever since Anbiki Kenny was officially promoted to Group Leader of the livestock division in the Agriculture Department, no one dared to mock him with the nickname “Shepherd Knight” anymore.

His extensive experience in animal husbandry had even won him the grudging respect of the local barren landers, who had always looked down on the nobility of the south. In their daily interactions, they would now address him as “Group Leader Kenny.”

Today, however, he was not facing the docile Northern Realm mountain goats in the breeding pens, but his own wife, Sophia, who was emotional and seething with anger.

Not long after the two had officially registered their marriage at the City Hall, Sophia, with her parents’ consent, had brought her younger brother, Ivan, who was nearing adulthood, to the pioneer territories and enrolled him in the territory’s public school.

As it was a rest day, the couple was enjoying a rare weekend dinner with Ivan, who had just returned from school.

Unfortunately, the once warm and comfortable atmosphere was completely shattered by Ivan’s grand pronouncements about his future. Anbiki could only lower his head in embarrassment and prod at the stewed tender lamb on his plate, leaving his poor brother-in-law to face his wife’s wrath alone.

“Have you gone mad, Ivan? I went through so much trouble to bring you to the Northern Realm, and it wasn’t to send you off to join the army!” Sophia’s usual gentle and quiet demeanor was gone, her voice rising several pitches.

“With the knowledge you’ve acquired, it would be easy for you to become one of the top students at the territory’s school. Once you graduate from the Advanced Education Department, whether you enter the City Hall as an apprentice official or… or are lucky enough to be selected by the Spellcaster Academy and have the chance to become a noble Spellcaster, isn’t any of that a better future than joining the Northern Army?”

Ivan listened patiently to his sister’s scolding before craning his neck stubbornly and insisting, “None of those are what I want to do. You should have known back home that becoming an honorable knight is my lifelong dream!”

Sophia glared at him. “But there are no knights in the pioneer territories! Look at your brother-in-law! He was indeed a knighted noble in the past, but what about now? If it weren’t for a stroke of luck, he would have died a pointless death on the battlefield long ago!”

Suddenly dragged into the fray, Anbiki flinched and quickly stood up, forcing a laugh. “I’ll just go to the kitchen and get some more soup!”

“Brother-in-law was a knight of the old era! I want to be a knight of the new era!” The more Ivan argued with his sister, the more excited he became. “You have no idea, sister. You don’t know how popular the Military Command’s recruitment speeches are at school… Soldiers who fight for justice and fairness, an army of the people… Pledging fealty to the Lord who will forever guide us on the right path… This… this is what it means to be a knight of the new era!”

Sophia worked in the Primary Education Department, which had little interaction with the Advanced Education Department where Ivan studied. She naturally had no idea what they were learning or experiencing each day. “What? The Military Command gives speeches at your school?”

“Of course! The ones who come to speak are all commanders who have truly faced life and death in battle! They talk about the campaign against the greedy former Earl Fegan, repelling the Church’s unjust invasion, journeying to Three-Forks Town to rescue and aid the southern refugees… and the recent effort to shelter infected escapees after the blight outbreak…”

Sophia’s expression softened slightly as she muttered, “What’s so interesting about cruel and bloody war stories? If you want to know about them, you might as well ask your brother-in-law. He took part in that battle outside Raven Ridge…”

Holding the soup tureen, Anbiki’s face twitched. “I was an enemy of the pioneer territories back then!” he said with a wry smile. “And… and I had no idea what was even happening.”

They had just assembled into a charge formation when the Lord’s magical energy cannon, with a single boom, had blasted them to smithereens.

Sophia shot her husband a look, then patiently tried to persuade her brother again. “Ivan, it’s not just me. Father and Mother also have high hopes for you. We all hope you can get into the Spellcaster Academy, or at the very least, become an apprentice official at the City Hall.”

She thought for a moment and began to coax him gently. “Becoming a Spellcaster is like touching the gate of wisdom and truth. Think about it… even the Lord himself is a noble Spellcaster!”

Ivan was completely unmoved, shaking his head like a rattle drum. “I don’t care. The Military Command will be coming to the Advanced Education Department soon to specially recruit a group of outstanding students for the army. I’m going to do my best to get in, no matter what!”

Sophia’s eyebrows shot up in anger. She turned to her honest-looking husband and said heartbrokenly, “Honey, can’t you say something to convince Ivan?”

Anbiki put down his knife and fork and sighed. “If you ask me… Ivan’s choice isn’t wrong. The Lord once said… the people are the most powerful and hopeful group. Whether one is a Spellcaster or a soldier, they all come from the people and serve the people… In essence, there is no difference between the two.”

Besides, a well-educated young man like Ivan, being specially recruited into the army, would not have to risk his life on the battlefield for his liege lord like the traditional knights under the command of those noble lords.

The military exercises frequently held on the banks of the Icefield River were open to public spectators, and Anbiki had gone to watch several times out of curiosity. He had seen the terrifying cannons that could bombard and shatter targets from thousands of meters away, and the magical weapons that fired without any reloading time. The soldiers didn’t even need to engage in close-quarters combat; they could simply eliminate their targets from a distance without spilling a drop of blood.

Ivan’s face lit up. “Brother-in-law! You agree with my choice? That makes me so happy!”

He shot up from his seat, wiped his mouth haphazardly with a napkin, and said excitedly, “Sister, brother-in-law, thank you for dinner. I’m full. I have something to do, so I’ll be going now!”

“Wait! What could a student like you be doing this late at night?” Sophia asked suspiciously. “You’re not sneaking off to the card and game room with your classmates for some fun, are you? Ivan, I won’t allow you to become so decadent!”

Ivan chuckled. “What? Sister, you underestimate me. I’ve joined a student organization. We have an activity in the auditorium on weekend nights…”

“A student organization? How come I’ve never heard of it?”

“The Sword and Shield Brotherhood! Hehe, it’s an unofficial organization developed by the Military Command at the school. They only recruit young, high-achieving students who are absolutely loyal to the Lord. We might even be recruited into the Military Command in the future!”

The military was interacting with students at school? And they even formed an organization… Anbiki also found it a bit strange and pressed, “Are they only doing this to scout for military talent ahead of time? But you’ve only been in the territory for a short time. How did they notice you?”

“Hmph! Underestimate me, do you? I’m a progressive!” Ivan said indignantly as he walked toward the door. “The brotherhood promotes the idea of being vigilant in times of peace. We are on high alert for any hostile target that might threaten the territory’s development in the future—the southern nobles, the Radiant Church, the vile orcs… or any unknown enemies who have yet to bare their fangs at us!”

He thought for a moment, then added with a light laugh, “You wouldn’t understand even if I told you. In a while, the Lord himself might even grant us a personal audience… Just you wait and see!”

With that, he gently closed the door and hurried away without a second glance.

Anbiki and Sophia looked at each other, somewhat stunned. The same question popped into both of their minds.

Why would the Lord entertain these young students, playing such a childish game of setting up a whole host of hypothetical enemies for themselves?

Chapter 390: Connecting North and South

In a valley at the foot of Raven Ridge, less than 500 meters away from the south-slope underground base.

The once lush, rocky ground had been completely cleared. Countless crushed stones, mixed with cement and mortar, had been neatly paved into a wide, straight road leading down the mountain to the pioneer territories.

At the end of this road, extending towards the mountain range, were two side-by-side, enormous, man-made caves, each a full ten meters in diameter.

Stepping inside didn’t immediately plunge one into darkness. The smooth, flat ceiling of the cavern was fitted with a large, light-emitting magic stone every few meters. Metal energy conduits, as thick as a finger, ran along the ceiling, connecting all the magic stones and providing them with a continuous and ample supply of power for illumination.

This was the tunnel project Harvey had ordered, a time-consuming endeavor that was finally complete—a direct passage bored through the Raven Ridge mountain range, connecting north and south, linking the pioneer territories with Jackdaw Town.

The entire mountain tunnel was over three thousand meters long. The Living Tunneling Machine had spent a whole month digging day and night, dragging the energy-gathering array along with it, and had only just broken through a week ago.

All the reinforcement and finishing work inside the tunnel was handled by over a hundred multi-legged, work-type alchemical beasts capable of climbing with great agility. This new model of alchemical beast was an upgraded version of the old Wolf Spider Beasts, and their efficiency was particularly remarkable in hazardous environments like high altitudes and underground.

After all, in an era with such primitive construction technology, it was utterly impossible for Harvey to excavate straight, orderly, multi-lane modern transportation tunnels at the drop of a hat, like in the world of his previous life.

Following Harvey’s strict instructions, the Construction Department had used miniature Wolf Spider Beasts to infiltrate the interior of Raven Ridge through mountain crevices. They mapped out several natural caverns within the mountain, and then the Living Tunneling Machine carefully connected and cleared them, resulting in the winding “mountain-crossing tunnel” before them.

Even so, the people of the territory already hailed it as an unbelievable “miracle.”

With the successful completion of this monumental project, the Construction Department now had detailed, calculable data to reference for the future tunnel excavation in the Eastern Basin, and their construction experience had become much richer.

“My lord, I still don’t understand.” Looking as grimy as ever, Haru, the Director of the Construction Department, stood beside Harvey at the tunnel entrance. “Why excavate two parallel mountain tunnels? Their dimensions are completely identical.”

Harvey chuckled and explained, “What’s so hard to understand about that? They’re just for different lanes.”

“Different lanes?” Haru paused, muttering to himself, “The only things that can quickly traverse a mountain tunnel this long are War Beast vehicles and Magic Motorcycles, right? Do they really need to be separated into their own lanes?”

Tommy, the Captain of the personal guard, sidled over and said with a grin, “Maybe one lane is for alchemical vehicles, and the other is for people to walk?”

“Walk? Good heavens, this tunnel is a good three kilometers long…” An engineering Group Leader, who had just arrived to report to Harvey, wiped the dust from his face and frowned. “Although it’s a hundred times easier than crossing Raven Ridge, traversing it on foot is no simple task. You’d at least need a horse or a carriage…”

Harvey stood aside, smiling silently, waiting as the group gathered and chattered, guessing at the specific differences and purposes of the two parallel tunnels.

Two large alchemical camel-beasts slowly drove up from outside the construction site. The person who disembarked was the director of the Industrial Park. He walked over to Harvey and bowed. “My Lord, the first batch of sample profiles for the iron rails has arrived. We can arrange a trial installation now!”

Harvey nodded. A group of workers in gray uniforms immediately swarmed forward, carefully hoisting stacks of long, metal objects from the pack beasts and setting them down on the ground.

“Minecart tracks?” Haru recognized the pile of coarse iron bars at a glance. “My lord, you’re going to lay minecart tracks in the tunnel? But… no ore veins have been found in this part of the mountain at all.”

Before Harvey could patiently explain, the experienced Director of the Construction Department immediately noticed that the specifications and dimensions of these tracks were off. The material also wasn’t like the tracks in the mines, which were made of wooden rails wrapped in sheet iron.

“Rails of pure steel!”

No wonder they needed to use a pulley system to unload them… Haru found the Lord’s “wastefulness” simply incredible. With so much refined steel, if it were used to forge weapons and alchemical beast chassis, production could be increased countless times over. Yet here it was, inexplicably forged into rails of unknown purpose. Who wouldn’t grumble about such extravagance!

“The Construction Department will first cooperate with the Industrial Department to complete the laying of about five hundred meters of track,” Harvey ordered directly, not intending to explain too much. “With the help of the alchemical beasts, I believe you can finish it within a week at the earliest. Then we’ll begin testing the track’s stability and load-bearing capacity.”

The heads of the Construction Department and the Industrial Department exchanged a look, their expressions slightly bewildered. When it came to some of the miraculous inventions that came from Harvey’s own hands, the pioneer territories’ vast production management departments were completely unable to figure out the specific whys and wherefores.

Although they were long accustomed to the Lord’s series of extraordinary methods, laying a track made of refined steel in a mountain tunnel still made the two directors’ hearts tremble. How was this any different from paving a road with pure gold and silver? If the other production departments, which were perpetually short of steel raw materials, found out, they would probably beat the two of them to death for being “spendthrifts.”

In fact, only the pioneer territories of a Mage Lord like Harvey could afford the luxurious expense of paving with refined steel rails.

Ever since the technology of blast furnace iron smelting and steelmaking had been thoroughly popularized, the cornerstone of the pioneer territories’ industrial development—the steel manufacturing industry—had finally broken away from primitive workshop hammer-forging. Coupled with the continuous output of high-quality iron ore from the territory’s Mining Area, the pioneer territories’ steel production had reached terrifying levels—the amount of steel produced in a single month was several times more than the total output of all the cities in the central part of the south continent combined.

In Harvey’s view, however, this was all a matter of course. Wasn’t it perfectly normal for the industrialized production concepts and technology he brought from his past life to surpass the manual weapon workshops owned by nobles and royals?

As for the batch of rails before them, which needed to be laid in the tunnel for load-bearing tests, they were also advance preparations to verify a series of subsequent ideas Harvey had.

Merely drilling a hole through the mountain to connect the north and south didn’t provide that great a benefit or convenience.

What Harvey truly wanted to achieve was to connect Grizzly Keep, Jackdaw Town, the pioneer territories, and the east bank of the Icefield River… all the way to the Eastern Basin, which was awaiting development, with train tracks, creating a complete railway transport line!

Taking a Day Off This Weekend!

Taking a day off this weekend!

I just returned from a business trip on Friday. I was tormented by a project in another city for nearly a month, so I’m taking a day off to relax.

During this month-long business trip, Writing on my phone almost caused my tenosynovitis to flare up again.

Chapter 391: The Magical-Powered Train (Part 1)

The days when the snow melted and the rivers thawed often felt more bone-chillingly cold than the height of winter when the blizzards raged.

Harvey spent the better part of the morning mentally preparing himself before he could finally bring himself to leave the warm, comfortable Lord’s Castle. He led a group of high-ranking officials from the pioneer territories by vehicle to the site of a newly completed construction project.

This facility, which Harvey had named the “train station,” was built outside the territory’s walls. Two rails, similar in appearance to minecart tracks, ran alongside the building. One end led toward the territory’s Mining Area, while the other headed for the mountain-piercing tunnel at the foot of Raven Ridge.

Aside from the Construction and Industrial Departments, the officials from the other administrative branches had no idea what new scheme the Lord was cooking up. The officials on assignment from Grizzly Keep, in particular, were stunned into silence. The steel rails, laid out in perfect alignment over a roadbed of crushed stone and sleepers, were a sight to behold. Even without knowing the Lord planned to extend the minecart tracks beyond the territory, they were awestruck by the sheer scale of the project.

“Rails forged from refined steel! Good heavens! How extravagant!”

“The Lord is truly… no, the pioneer territories’ financial strength is simply immense!”

A hushed discussion rustled through the crowd, interspersed with a few exclamations of amazement that could not be suppressed.

Only Harvey himself knew how difficult it had been to complete the laying of this railway line—which ran from the Mining Area, through the territory, and all the way to the tunnel at the mountain’s foot—in just a month and a half…

In fact, because he had overestimated the Industrial Department’s rail production efficiency and underestimated the Construction Department’s inexperience with track-laying techniques, the only section of the entire railway that could truly support a train was the stretch of less than five kilometers from the Mining Area to the territory. As for the section from the territory to the tunnel at the foot of Raven Ridge, they had barely managed to lay some of the roadbed and sleepers; the rails hadn’t been installed at all.

As a transmigrator with a liberal arts background who “knew a little about a lot,” Harvey had no idea about the different load-bearing capacities of broad-gauge versus narrow-gauge railways. He could only follow the principle of saving money wherever possible and crudely set the standard track gauge at one point two meters.

The crushed stone for the roadbed came mostly from the rock debris produced at the mine. This material had already piled up into several small hills in the mining depot and had no use other than for paving roads. The sleepers were cut at the logging yard and transported directly to the site. In terms of size and appearance, they looked identical to the old-fashioned railway sleepers Harvey had seen in his past life.

Of course, Harvey hadn’t braved the bitter cold to gather everyone here today just to show them the refined steel rails. The groundbreaking steel tracks were merely the appetizer; the main event was, naturally, the thing that could run on them!

At Harvey’s signal, technicians from the Industrial Department dismantled the enormous canvas workshed at the end of the track, revealing a dark, steel wheeled vehicle resting upon the rails.

“My Lord, is this… isn’t this a War Beast vehicle?” Earl Fegan asked, uncertain. But from its appearance, the iron contraption did look very similar to the magical vehicle he rode every time he came to the barren lands, the kind that could traverse mountains and cross ridges.

“This isn’t a War Beast! Look, it has no legs. The entire lower section has been replaced by a row of wheels. It can probably only travel on flat ground.” Durt, the vice dean of the Spellcaster Academy, shook his head in disagreement, pointing out the obvious difference.

Arturo, the Dean of the Academy of Sciences, interrupted their argument. “I think it’s a giant alchemical beast converted from a Giant Devouring Worm. Look at its head—isn’t it as sharp as a Living Tunneling Machine? It’s probably a new type of digging equipment!”

Harvey listened to their discussion for a while, then shook his head with a helpless smile. It was no wonder they came up with all sorts of guesses. The design and construction of the locomotive before them had been carried out entirely according to his instructions. The pointed front was purely to satisfy his personal preference for streamlined designs, not to reduce wind resistance. After all, this “train,” powered by a Magic Core, couldn’t travel at high speeds. Judging by the quality of the track and the design of the locomotive’s power system, it was even worse than the old-fashioned green trains he had ridden in his past life.

But the fact that these high-ranking officials could casually bring up practical applications for alchemical beasts and magical devices was excellent feedback for Harvey. It meant that both ordinary people and Spellcasters were gradually getting used to the spread and development of magical technology, and they recognized the role of Alchemical constructs and mana in boosting productivity.

They were transitioning from passively accepting Harvey’s ideas to actively improving and creating on their own.

“This is a groundbreaking transport vehicle.” Harvey spoke up, cutting off their debate. “I have named it the 【Magical-Powered Train】. It’s currently in the experimental testing phase.”

It was, after all, a product of the scientific and technological development from his past life. Although its power source had been “magically modified” from coal, oil, and electricity to a magical energy core that required infusions of liquid magical energy, Harvey stubbornly insisted on keeping the classic name “train.”

“A… ‘train’?” Chris muttered to himself, puzzled. “My Lord, this thing is powered entirely by a power core. There’s no fire involved, is there?”

Harvey’s Chief Alchemist was an expert in “playing with fire.” He had created a special fuel by mixing Dragon’s Flame powder with liquid magical energy, which was widely used to enhance the power of various magical weapons.

Harvey couldn’t be bothered to explain and said directly, “It’s called a train, that’s final. In the future, it will be the key to solving our transportation problems!”

Rainer, who had been silent all this time, suddenly slapped his own head. His mechanical palm scraped against his metal skull, creating a shower of sparks. “I’ve got it! You plan to build a railway like this between the territory and the Eastern Basin that’s about to be developed, and then use the… the train to rapidly transport manpower and resources between the two locations!”

Police Chief Yuliao scratched his head in confusion and asked, “Then why do you have to build a track? It looks like it has wheels, just like a Bicycle or a Magic Motorcycle. Can’t it just run on a dirt road?”

At a look from Harvey, the head of the Industrial Department, who was in charge of forging the locomotive, stepped forward to explain. “It’s a matter of weight, Police Superintendent. Do you know how heavy this thing is? Even if you sent out all the mechanically modified police officers from the Police Department, you wouldn’t be able to lift this steel locomotive, which weighs several tons.”

The main reason a train can’t run freely on ordinary roads like other vehicles is its enormous size and terrifying weight, which far exceeds the load-bearing capacity of any road surface.

Forget dirt roads; even on solid concrete, it would cause severe damage to the road surface and could even lead to safety issues like the vehicle tipping over.

The design of the railway track not only distributes the train’s weight and reduces the pressure on the ground, but also allows it to travel at high speeds as if on flat terrain. Once the Industrial Department’s production and manufacturing techniques mature, there will be room for speed improvements—after all, it currently only has one power core installed, making it a rudimentary “single-cylinder” version.

“Alright! Instead of just standing here talking endlessly, why don’t you all come aboard the locomotive with me and experience it for yourselves!”

Harvey clapped his hands and took the lead, climbing up into the locomotive.

Chapter 392: The Magical-Powered Train (Part 2)

A crowd of territorial officials scrambled to follow Harvey onto the train. Since the locomotive’s cockpit could only accommodate a few people, most had to stand in an open car behind it, leaning excitedly against the carriage’s edge as they waited for the train to officially start.

Due to the magical modifications to its power source, the structure of this train’s locomotive was slightly different from the antique steam engines of Harvey’s previous life. The front half was a cockpit with a good field of view, while the rear half housed the magical-powered core and transmission system. This meant that operating this massive transport vehicle required the coordinated effort of at least two professionally trained “train drivers.”

At Harvey’s signal, the honor of starting the Magical-Powered Train for the first time was given to the directors of the Industrial Department and the Construction Department, an encouragement for their joint effort in completing this historic achievement.

As the storage canister of liquid magical energy was inserted into the power core, many of the officials and advisors present who were Spellcasters immediately sensed a tremendous mana fluctuation surge out from the rear of the locomotive.

Standing in the cockpit, Haru, the Director of the Construction Department, received the signal that the power core was activated. With his two burly arms, he forcefully yanked down the lever for the train’s brake lock.

Rumble! The train’s body shuddered violently, and many of those standing on it stumbled, nearly falling over.

Then, Haru immediately pulled a second lever, releasing the train’s deceleration mechanism.

The piercing screech of metal wheels grinding against steel tracks rang out, and the train slowly began to move forward on the rails before everyone’s eyes.

Instantly, everyone—from the lord in the cockpit to the officials crowded into the single open car behind—felt a cold wind rush against their faces, and they all shivered.

After all, it was still a semi-finished, experimental prototype. The cockpit didn’t even have a windshield installed, to say nothing of the pitiful open car behind it.

During the design phase, Harvey had simplified countless technical details he didn’t understand. The train’s cockpit offered only three primitive functions: start, decelerate, and brake. It even required a dedicated co-driver to constantly monitor the power core and perform periodic water cooling.

The entire transmission system was a direct, scaled-up copy of the armored icebreaker’s structure, using a cast metal crankshaft to drive the rapid rotation of the wheels. Once it got going, it clanked and clattered nonstop.

From the perspective of a modern transmigrator, this “beggar’s version” of a magical train had flaws as numerous as the stars. All its important components were crudely patched and welded together. The brake required a “miracle of brute force” by turning a winch to operate. The entire locomotive’s cockpit and energy bay were welded directly onto the train chassis with no shock absorbers to speak of, allowing both driver and passengers to fully experience the violent vibrations produced during operation.

Furthermore, the entire vehicle had no communication device. The two crew members at the front and back had to rely on their booming voices to be heard over the train’s tremendous roar. There was no electrical equipment to provide lighting or heating. Once the train picked up speed, the driver at the front had to rely solely on their eyes to observe the track conditions ahead, while also having to “tremble” in sync with the train in winter and endure the cold wind with sheer physical fortitude.

Of course, now that the train was running, they had solved the problem of creating it from nothing. The existing defects and drawbacks would naturally be improved step by step.

“My… my lord, this… this train… how much… cargo… can it pull… at once?” Rainer stood with Harvey in the cockpit, feeling as if every metal component in his body was violently vibrating and grinding along with the train. “Compared to our armored icebreakers…”

“The difference is huge… Don’t be fooled by the single car we’re pulling now. If it were in official use, the locomotive could connect to at least eight cars, pulling a cargo load that would require more than a dozen icebreakers in a single trip.”

No matter how an icebreaker was driven by a power core without sails, its hull was still limited by its cargo draft depth, making it far inferior to a train running on solid ground.

As he spoke, he turned and gestured for everyone to look at the energy bay behind the cockpit. “We’re still in the testing phase, so we’ve only fitted the train with one energy core. If all subsequent tests go smoothly, a single train is designed with bays for four energy cores.”

The alchemical lifeform calculated the train’s full cargo capacity in less than half a second, his tone incredulous. “It can pull the cargo of forty or fifty armored icebreakers in one trip? That’s… that’s simply unbelievable!”

The entire pioneer territories currently had fewer than ten armored icebreakers. Apart from the two military vessels that traveled between the territory and the outposts, the rest were all moored at Grizzly Keep’s docks in the south, working day and night to transport refugees north from Three-Forks Town, which was plagued by the fires of war. Even so, the efficiency was still not considered outstanding.

As Harvey’s Chief Administrator, Rainer immediately began to imagine laying tracks through the mountain tunnel in Raven Ridge, all the way to Jackdaw Town in the south… then to Grizzly Keep, and perhaps even more greedily… running the train directly to Three-Forks Town, which was already overflowing with refugees.

Before his thoughts could stray further, Earl Fegan asked with a trembling voice, “My lord, then… what is this train’s maximum speed? Could it be even faster than a sail-less armored icebreaker traveling downstream…”

Three-Forks Town was currently administered by Trevor, the new Earl Fegan’s own nephew, who served as mayor. With Harvey’s full support, he was working hard to manage and coordinate the reception and transport of the population. Although the young noble mayor possessed a great deal of knightly spirit and treated the refugees with as much fairness and mercy as he could, the transport efficiency of the armored icebreakers still left him overwhelmed. Three-Forks Town was practically bursting at the seams with stranded refugees. If not for the continuous supply of scarce food and medicine from the north, a large-scale famine and epidemic would have likely broken out long ago.

Harvey pondered for a moment before answering cautiously, “With only one power core installed, the speed is what you’re seeing now… When it’s officially put into service later, I can only guarantee it will be at least twice as fast as a sail-less armored icebreaker.”

In the eyes of these southern nobles, the armored icebreaker was already an epoch-making high-speed transport vehicle. Before this, land and water transport in this world had been dominated by sailboats and horse-drawn carriages on uneven dirt roads, relying on wind direction and manual paddling, making them incredibly inefficient.

Seeing everyone’s dumbstruck silence, Harvey couldn’t help but feel secretly amused. This “magically modified” train, with a top speed unlikely to reach even thirty kilometers per hour, was already the fastest transport vehicle in their world. He wondered how they would react when he later upgraded the magical power core’s output, allowing the train to reach speeds approaching fifty or sixty kilometers per hour. It would probably make their jaws drop.

Of course, with a purely manual braking system, he didn’t quite dare to try pushing the speed to its maximum. After all, getting it moving was easy; stopping it at will would be the hard part.

Chapter 393: Intelligence Network

In St. Valen’s capital, an apartment building faced the street in Goldshine City.

It was the weekly intelligence exchange day again. Handle 007, a “secret police” agent from the pioneer territories, leaned against the window and looked out at the street, quietly waiting for the informant he had independently cultivated to come and report.

Since the outbreak of the Rotting Plague before the new year, Goldshine City had suffered a massive loss of population. A number of people died, another number fled, and many city residents who had once been moderately wealthy had exhausted their family fortunes, even going into debt, just to beg the Church for a life-saving Divine Grace Potion.

The plague had barely been brought under control when a conflict erupted with the neighboring country of Da’ers. His Majesty the Grand Duke, along with a host of other dukes and nobles, initiated a new round of temporary taxes and forced hard labor, casting a pall of gloom and despair over the entire capital and its surrounding areas.

After winter set in, it became common for the city’s residents to lack food and clothing. Even with the capital’s gates sealed, many refugees from the famine-stricken surroundings found ways to sneak into the city, causing a sharp rise in crime. Even the City Guard, who usually only cared about extorting protection fees from merchants, had to grudgingly start arresting criminals.

The nobles and wealthy merchants didn’t care whether the commoners lived or died. To prevent crime from spreading into the inner city where they lived, the inner city gates were closed and the curfew was moved up to before sunset. This forced 007 to summon his informants scattered throughout the Lower District earlier than usual.

After all, his current cover identity was not one that could conveniently appear in the alleys of the Lower District, which were teeming with the poor and gangsters.

The first person to arrive at his rented apartment was a man named Jarle Austin, commonly known by his nickname, “Anvil.”

“Anvil” was originally a local of Goldshine City. He had been swept up with the infected refugees fleeing the city and taken north, where he was fortunate enough to be taken in and treated by the pioneer territories. When ruffians and opportunists appeared among the refugees, he was the first to step forward and expose their shameless behavior, resolutely defending the interests of his “saviors” and the other refugees.

007 opened the apartment door, stepping aside to let his informant enter. He looked the man over carefully and asked with great interest, “Have you lost all the money yet?”

“I’m still trying…” Anvil rubbed his hands together awkwardly, then said hesitantly, “My lord, I really don’t understand. There are so many ways to gather information. Why do you insist that I go to the casino every day just to lose money on purpose?”

Every three days, his superior would give him a heavy coin purse and instruct him to frequent the major casinos in the city, playing the part of a nouveau riche gambling addict who spent money like water.

“Oh? You find something as simple as losing money difficult?”

“Not exactly difficult, but for some reason, my luck has been absurdly good these past few days. No matter how I bet, I always… always win.” Anvil scratched his head, a pained look on his face. “If this keeps up, my winnings will exceed the funds you gave me.”

Hearing this, 007 couldn’t help but roar with laughter. He stood up and poured the man a glass of warm water. “It’s just a temporary turn of fortune… So, have you met anyone at the casino who has actively struck up a conversation with you?”

Anvil nodded and began his report in great detail. “On the nights I lost a lot, the ones who approached me were gang members—some were loan sharks, others were subtly trying to find out my background… But the few casinos I frequent are the gray-area businesses of a certain Baron. The more I lost, the more they cared about protecting me.”

“Mm, now tell me about your winning streak at the tables…”

Anvil said awkwardly, “For two days straight, I was in a private room with a man who was clearly a noble. It was as if that fellow had sucked up all my bad luck. And he always sat in the position right after me, getting himself completely cleaned out.”

As he spoke, he pulled a solid gold pocket watch from his inner jacket pocket and handed it to his superior without a hint of hesitation. “Here, this is the gold watch he pawned to me last night after he lost all his money. Before he left, he swore I shouldn’t sell it, because he plans to win it back tonight.”

007 took the solid gold watch and snapped open the cover. His eyes immediately narrowed—on the inner lid was a vividly engraved eagle’s head.

“Find a chance to gamble at the same table with him tonight. Try to find out his identity and background,” 007 instructed cautiously after a moment of thought.

“I could just follow him, or sneak into his residence. Wouldn’t that be easier?”

007 sighed and scoffed, “Don’t be so reckless with your own life. Tailing, infiltrating, going undercover… probing for information deep within enemy territory is dangerous, time-consuming, and laborious. The return is completely disproportionate to the effort.”

He paused, then said seriously, “You must remember, it’s not easy to train a secret police agent. What we’re supposed to do is bribe, infiltrate, and win people over…”

“Not everyone can be bribed, especially those master knights who are full of righteousness and morality,” Anvil commented stubbornly.

007 took a sip of hot water and chuckled softly. “And that is why… learning to gather information, discern truth from falsehood, and conceal your identity is what makes a qualified secret police agent.”

He pried open the watch in his hand, showing the eagle emblem to Anvil. “If I told you this gold watch represents a vital piece of intelligence, would you believe me?”

“Uh…” Anvil’s face reddened, and he stammered, “My lord, I can’t tell…”

“The Frostwing Eagle, Duke Ralph’s family crest.” 007 pointed to the design on the inside of the cover. “The eagle’s head faces left, which signifies the duke’s direct bloodline. Your gambling buddy… is a nephew or younger relative of Duke Ralph.”

Anvil shot up from his chair in shock, his voice trembling. “I was gambling at the same table as a relative of a founding duke? No wonder… no wonder he was even more extravagant than me.”

It made sense, thinking about it. In a luxurious casino run by a capital noble, it was perfectly normal for other nobles to be patrons. When it came to vices like feasting, whoring, and gambling, it seemed there wasn’t much difference between nobles and commoners.

007 returned the gold watch to Anvil, patiently giving him a few more instructions before seeing him out.

Moments after closing the door, he immediately bolted the apartment door and the study’s lock, then gently drew the open curtains. He then carefully pulled a leather case out from under the bed and removed an exquisitely constructed brass typewriter.

[Handle 007: @091, @088, @085, a noble suspected to be a nephew from Duke Ralph's direct line has appeared in the capital. Please confirm immediately if the Duke himself is still in Fengyuan City!]

007 wasn’t just guessing wildly. Under the guise of the trade director for the Faros Royal Merchant Guild in Goldshine City, he moved within the upper circles of the capital’s nobles and wealthy merchants, making him exceptionally sharp to all sorts of secret intelligence.

It was rumored that His Majesty the Grand Duke of St. Valen was extremely wary of the current Duke Ralph’s family. As a result, although Lord Duke was officially on the royal family’s side, in reality, the two parties rarely interacted closely.

The appearance of a member of the Duke’s direct line in Goldshine City presented a certain possibility—after that terrifying long-distance assassination, had Lord Duke himself been frightened out of his wits and secretly fled to the capital for refuge?

He didn’t have to wait long. Two lines of text slowly materialized on the typewriter’s crystal screen, perfectly answering 007’s suspicions.

[Handle 088: @007, Duke Ralph went to his hunting fortress in the mountains ten days ago. We have not yet ascertained his specific return time. He may still be affected by the assassination attempt. However, all of the Duke's family members are in Fengyuan City and have not left.]

Just as I thought! He left his wife and children behind as a decoy and secretly fled to the capital to save his own skin!

Chapter 394: Pre-War Mobilization

Goldshine City’s strict curfew was completely unable to stop the Magic Net communications flowing between the two locations. Harvey’s secret police completed their verification and analysis of the intelligence almost as soon as they received the message.

Before nightfall, the compiled intelligence report was delivered to Harvey’s desk.

According to the operational regulations of the pioneer territories’ Security Bureau, top-secret and urgent intelligence would be marked in red. Personnel who monitored the Magic Brain twenty-four hours a day would be responsible for receiving it, submitting it directly to their superior, Astaren, who would then promptly notify the Lord.

Meanwhile, intelligence documents marked in blue were generally encrypted, important, and non-urgent. They were typically compiled and analyzed by intelligence officers to verify their authenticity and content before being sent to Harvey’s study along with work reports from other departments.

And this report from Goldshine City was clearly stamped with a blue sigil on the file pouch.

“Duke Ralph actually fled!”

The snipers and high-level Mages he had sent hadn’t even touched a hair on the man’s head, yet they had scared a founding Duke of the Duchy out of his wits.

Harvey immediately summoned Pierce, Rainer, and Astaren. Not knowing whether to laugh or cry, he pushed the report in front of them.

“Tsk… Cowardly as a mouse, that one!”

“He abandoned his own ancestral fiefdom, even leaving behind some of his family members as a decoy for assassins. Does he really think the people who attacked him are still hiding in Fengyuan City after all this time?”

“I was originally planning to move on Fengyuan City after the start of spring.” Harvey felt his plans had been disrupted. Winter was about to end, and the pioneer territories were preparing to launch a series of important development projects. The development of the Eastern Basin required his personal attention, and the construction of the train and railway also needed close supervision.

He had thought that after this incident, Duke Ralph would lie low in his own lair for a while, giving him time to finish his work before dealing with him. He truly hadn’t expected the man to just up and run.

After reading the intelligence report, Pierce’s face lit up with glee. “My Lord, if that’s the case, we don’t have to wait for spring! While the Duke has secretly fled with his elite personal guards, Fengyuan City must be short on troops. Why don’t we…”

“Running to Goldshine City for refuge just because he’s afraid of dying… that’s probably not Duke Ralph’s only goal,” Astaren mused for a moment before analyzing, “I suspect he’ll also exaggerate the threat we pose to the Duchy’s rear and do his utmost to persuade the Grand Duke and the Church to turn their full attention to us.”

This suspicion had, in fact, already been confirmed. Whether it was the intelligence Harvey had obtained from the Spellcaster Forum about the conflict between the Church and the Federation, or the vast amount of fragmented information gathered by the secret police from the front lines, everything clearly indicated that the combined forces of St. Valen and the Church had used a large number of alchemical weapons and divine art equipment while fighting the Federation on the Da’ers border.

The Alchemical Exploration Society, which had sided with the Federation from the very beginning, would never sell its weapons to the Church. Therefore, these divine magic artifacts, which had to be operated by Church Priests and the Army of Judgment, must have come from the Holy City, Goris.

This also showed that the Church had been secretly gathering strength and plotting for a long time to reignite the war of faith against the Spellcasters.

“The news of the former Earl Fegan’s crushing defeat and death at your hands has long spread throughout the Duchy,” Astaren said with a scornful chuckle. “Duke Ralph probably thinks the weapons we possess are as powerful as the ones the Church has. As long as he can bring in reinforcements from the Church, avenging the assassination attempt will be a piece of cake.”

“That’s most likely his goal…” Harvey clapped his hands and gave orders to his three core followers. “In that case, we shouldn’t delay. Let’s dispatch our forces to Fengyuan City immediately!”

“My Lord, please give the order!” Pierce had been waiting for Harvey to say this. He immediately stood up and saluted.

“The three battalions of the Northern Army, a total of one thousand five hundred men, are to enter a state of combat readiness immediately!” Harvey said gravely. “The main force will assemble tonight and set out tomorrow morning…”

He paused and added, “You can start by requisitioning five armored transport ships from Three-Forks Town, plus ten Magical-Powered Cannons… Discuss the specific logistical arrangements with Rainer.”

Each armored transport ship was already equipped with two cannons, one at the bow and one at the stern. With an additional ten Magical-Powered Cannons, as long as ammunition was plentiful, the Northern Army could bombard their way from the Fengyuan City docks all the way to the gates of Duke Ralph’s estate.

“Understood! I’ll go make the arrangements right away!” Pierce gave a standard chest-thumping military salute, then left gleefully.

The Territorial Army under Harvey’s command now numbered a full five thousand men. Excluding the more than one thousand new recruits from this year’s expansion, there were three battalions of internal Defense forces, totaling one thousand five hundred men, and five battalions of external combat troops, totaling two thousand five hundred men.

The entire army’s standard issue was a “long-and-short” weapon combination: one Model Two Magical Energy repeating rifle and one magical revolver pistol. The older weapon models had been phased out, and ammunition reserves were more than sufficient. Marksmanship training at the new recruit firing range continued without pause every day.

The new repeating Magical Energy Guns, the recently implemented Magical Energy Machine Guns… combined with the extremely long-range Magical-Powered Cannons, meant that the firepower output of a single five-hundred-man battalion was terrifying. On the trenches of the Forward Bastion, they could easily suppress several thousand death-defying vile orcs.

Moreover, thanks to the spread of literacy education in the army, the cultural level of most soldiers far exceeded that of ordinary people of this era. In addition, under the deliberate direction of Harvey and Astaren, the Military Command continuously developed a group of young officer reserves from the Territorial Public Academy. The “General Staff” of the Northern Army, composed of some mid- to high-ranking officers, was already taking shape, greatly improving the efficiency of executing combat orders.

Whenever Harvey issued a combat order, the Military Command would immediately have dedicated personnel begin meticulous logistical preparations based on the operational plan and the number of troops, allocating food, weapons, ammunition, and other related matters.

For an external operation of this scale, involving three battalions and one thousand five hundred men, the logistics would likely only take one night to be perfectly arranged. Compared to the noble lords who had to start recruiting knights and mercenaries and gathering weapons and provisions before winter just to go on a campaign in the spring, this was a high-speed engine of war that could be called epoch-making.

…

“My Lord!” The Eye of Illusion practically burst into Harvey’s living quarters just as he was about to go to sleep, his neck stiff with indignation.

“Why aren’t the Astrologer and I participating in this military operation?” The Eye of Illusion’s expression was agitated. “We were just in Fengyuan City for the last mission, the assassination attempt to intimidate the Duke…”

“And… think about the noble Spellcasters under Duke Ralph’s command. They are high-level Mages who pose a great threat to ordinary soldiers! If we aren’t there to engage and counter them, the soldiers might suffer unnecessary casualties.”

Harvey rolled his eyes, having already prepared a rebuttal to shut him up. “Duke Ralph has fled to the capital, Goldshine City, and he took all his powerful core followers and trusted aides with him—including those two high-rank Mages you mentioned!”

The Eye of Illusion’s expression immediately crumpled. He muttered, “I’m a battle mage… Staying in the territory without being able to go out and fight is just… Those experimental maniacs at the Academy of Sciences don’t care for me at all.”

Seeing him put on this pitiful act, Harvey couldn’t help but grumble inwardly. How was it that Ms. Astrologer could get along with them so well, and even join a magical experiment group?

“You don’t need to be so dejected. This is also a request from your teacher, Mr. Duncan…” Harvey stood up and pushed open the window. “He has already approached me, proposing to take you, Ms. Astrologer, and some of the Spellcasters from the Academy of Sciences to explore the unknown lands further north, to try and uncover the details of the powerful enemy from the 【Core of the Continent】.”

After all, their true future enemy… came from the distant, unknown north.

Chapter 395: Setting Out on the Expedition

Just as the sky began to lighten, a piercing assembly whistle echoed through the temporary military barracks at Grizzly Keep.

Benny tumbled out of his cot, deftly put on his uniform, slung his rifle over his shoulder, and jogged out of the barracks to assemble.

His battalion had already completed its pre-expedition assembly and mobilization rally the day before. Now, all they had to do was follow their commander’s orders, join the stream of the main force to the docks, and board the ironclad ships waiting there to head south.

The weather was still bitterly cold. The docks of Grizzly Keep were already packed with silently formed ranks of soldiers, each carrying a military pack and a rifle, like a forest of javelins standing against the cold wind.

It wasn’t just the Northern Army soldiers embarking on the expedition. A large number of logistics personnel were also bustling about the docks, directing alchemical beasts to hoist massive quantities of supplies, weapons, and ammunition onto the ships. Despite the immense crowd, everything was orderly and not the least bit chaotic.

The soldiers queued up to board one by one. When it was his squad’s turn, Benny couldn’t help but swallow nervously. For a raw recruit who had never been on a real battlefield, the scene was both nerve-wracking… and awe-inspiring.

These silent, battle-hardened veterans were the Lord’s invincible warriors.

And they… they had once been just like him, ordinary, lowborn commoners. Some had even been slaves, brutally driven by vile orcs in the barren lands. It felt truly unbelievable to think about.

“Hey! Is… is that you, Benny?” Just as he stepped onto the ship, Benny heard someone call his name from the stern.

He quickly turned his head towards the wheelhouse and was surprised to see a familiar face—Jim, a young fisherman from his hometown of Perch Town, who had fled the disaster with him.

“Is… is that you, Jim? Good heavens! What are you doing in the expedition fleet?”

Jim grinned and squeezed out of the wheelhouse, leading Benny’s group of soldiers down to the cabins below deck. “Stay below deck. Otherwise, when the ship gets moving, you guys will turn into popsicles standing on the prow like javelins.”

After skillfully settling the soldiers in, Jim came back to Benny and explained, “I’m not cut out for the army. I just signed up for a job as a sailor, running between Grizzly Keep and Three-Forks Town, transporting the refugees from the south.”

Benny nodded, realizing that the ship Jim was on had been temporarily requisitioned by the Military Command.

“You learned to pilot a ship this fast? I heard these ironclad ships, without any sails, are the Lord’s magical creations!”

Jim glanced around cautiously. Seeing that the captain had already gone up to the wheelhouse on the main deck, he boldly led Benny to the power room directly below it. He pointed to a metal cylinder in the center of the room, its surface covered in strange patterns, and whispered, “Don’t underestimate me. My job is to infuse the ironclad’s power core with magical energy and to handle the cooling and heat dissipation…”

Benny grunted politely, though he hadn’t understood a single word.

“How’s a sailor’s salary? Is it decent?” He knew that the Rotting Plague had shattered Jim’s once happy family. His only surviving relative was a younger sister, but she had tragically had both her legs crushed by a carriage on their journey north. If they hadn’t come to the pioneer territories, the two of them wouldn’t have had a shred of hope.

While deftly wiping the power core’s casing with a cotton cloth, Jim pursed his lips. “Of course, it’s not as high as you soldiers get, but the… uh, benefits are pretty good. The captain told me that if I work hard… I could be promoted to first mate in less than three years. Maybe I’ll even have a chance to become a captain and have an ironclad ship of my own one day!”

The so-called benefits were the policies of free education and medical reimbursement now implemented throughout the territory. Anyone who obtained official residency in the pioneer territories, along with their family members, was eligible for free literacy education. At the same time, if they fell ill, a portion of their treatment and potion costs would be reimbursed—the exact amount depended on the tier of “medical insurance” purchased for them by their employer.

Although a portion of the “medical insurance” premium was deducted from their salary, the infirmaries in the pioneer territories were renowned for their high standards. They could even cure Bloodworm Disease and the Frost Plague, which everyone considered “terminal illnesses.” For most diseases and accidents, as long as you weren’t dead on the spot, there was a good chance of survival if you were sent there. The system was highly praised and supported by the people of the territory.

Benny chatted with his old friend for a few more moments when the captain’s booming voice suddenly came through a copper pipe on the cabin wall. “Sailor Jim! Preheat the power core! Prepare for startup!”

Jim immediately leaned toward the pipe and shouted his reply, “Sailor Jim, received!”

He dropped the cotton cloth, took a large metal canister from a nearby crate, and fitted it perfectly into a recess at the base of the power core. Then he pulled a lever and watched as the magical creation’s surface patterns began to emit a soft white glow with a low hum.

After about ten minutes, the temperature in the room had become uncomfortably warm for both of them. Jim scrambled back to the pipe. “Captain! The power core is preheated and ready for startup!”

The response was the deep blast of a steam whistle from the deck above.

Even through the hull, Benny could clearly hear the whistles of all the other ironclad ships sounding off one after another, shattering the morning tranquility of the Grizzly Keep docks.

…

Unable to contain their curiosity, the new recruits who had never been on an ironclad ship before all rushed out of the cabins, braving the cold wind. They leaned against the icy railings of the deck, watching as the fleet of ironclads slowly pulled away from the docks.

“Power core engaged! Speed one, full ahead!” The captain’s voice from the wheelhouse was so loud that Benny could hear it from a distance.

In the next instant, the ship lurched, then began to move down the Ralph River amidst the cheers and waves of the people on the docks.

The sharp prow of the ironclad continuously crashed against the thin ice on the river’s surface. The cracking sound, accompanied by a slight vibration of the hull, made Benny and the other recruits grip the railing tightly, afraid they would be thrown into the freezing river at any moment.

“What a beast! An ironclad, for sure. It’s just plowing through the river ice like this. A normal wooden sailboat would have broken apart on the spot!” a recruit with sailing experience exclaimed in amazement.

The middle-aged captain, his hair streaked with gray, stuck his head out of the wheelhouse and shouted with a laugh, “Get back in the cabins, lads! We’re about to speed up!”

The closer they got to the middle of the river, the thinner the ice became. Freed from the grip of the solid ice, the ironclad shot forward like an unbridled wild horse, its speed increasing instantly.

Before Benny could react, the ship was seized by another sustained tremor, and its speed kept climbing. A bone-chilling wind that cut like a knife blasted them in the face, sending the recruits still on deck scrambling and tumbling back into the cabins.

“Heavens! This ironclad’s speed, even while breaking ice… it’s almost as fast as a horse-drawn carriage!”

Chapter 396: “Steamroll” Operation

Fengyuan City was situated on the central plains of the St. Valen Duchy. A bountiful tributary of the Ralph River divided the entire city in two. The inner city and the Military Barracks were located on the north bank, while across the river to the south stretched endless, fertile farmland.

Many of Duke Ralph’s collateral family branches also had their fiefs in the south. Standing on the watchtowers of Fengyuan City’s walls, one could see the ranches and farmsteads dotting the south bank.

Unlike other cities in the duchy, Fengyuan City had been meticulously managed by several generations of the Ralph dukes. The old castle fortress had been expanded multiple times and was now divided into an inner and outer city. The walls of the outer city were not particularly high or sturdy; their main purpose was to demarcate the urban area and allow the ducal family to collect an entry tax.

As Fengyuan City and its surroundings had not seen any large-scale warfare for several decades, the war fortresses and sentry posts that originally served as warning and defense outposts had long since fallen into disuse. The lesser nobles and knights, ennobled when the first duke followed the St. Valen Grand Duke in establishing the nation, had long since laid down their armor and returned to their fields, content to live as leisurely landlords and wealthy men.

Fortunately, the current Duke Ralph was a rather outstanding successor. Although the defenses within his domain were lax, the Duke’s core followers, the Fengyuan Knightly Order, still maintained an exceptionally high level of combat strength. They had followed the Duke himself through countless battles, large and small, with their main achievements being expeditions north to repel the vile orcs that crossed the Spine of the Continent Mountains to harass the St. Valen border.

However, due to the flat terrain of central St. Valen, cities were rarely harassed by foreign enemies using waterways as their main route of attack. Consequently, the docks of Fengyuan City, which had no military defenses to begin with, were left completely exposed and undefended before Harvey’s fleet of ironclad ships.

Harvey’s fleet had traveled south from Grizzly Keep, reaching Three-Forks Town in just one day. After a simple night’s rest, they immediately set out westward, racing along the surging Ralph River. By evening that same day, the silhouette of Fengyuan City’s walls came into view.

“The docks of several towns and villages along the way must have spotted our fleet, but I doubt anyone realized we were an army coming to attack Fengyuan City. I bet no one will even bother riding here to report it,” Wayne said. This was his second time in Fengyuan City, so he was more familiar with the local situation than the others.

“So what if they do report it? Unless they use carrier pigeons or Frostwing Eagles, by the time they ride their horses to Fengyuan City in this cold, we’ll have already blasted open the gates of the Duke’s Manor.” This was not Dav’s first time fighting in the south, either. During the battle at Three-Forks Town, he had witnessed firsthand the incompetence of these southern nobles and knights.

Commander Pierce remained silent for a moment, then looked at Vaughn and asked, “Do you think we should take control of the docks, assemble our forces, and wait until tomorrow to attack… or should we strike now, under the cover of night?”

Vaughn stared at the simple map of Fengyuan City before him and said in a deep voice, “According to the intelligence our agents provided, the enemy is concentrated around the inner city’s Military Barracks and the Duke’s Manor. The outer city walls are guarded by the rundown City Guard and patrol squads. They’re nothing to fear.”

He paused, his thick finger tapping the location of the docks. “Controlling the docks will only take half an hour. Our fleet should be deployed in this section of the river, using the naval cannons to block the two southwest outer gates… while the main thrust of our ground forces will be the east gate, the one closest to the inner city!”

“Before Duke Ralph fled, he took all his core bloodline knights and Spellcasters with him. Right now, there are less than a thousand knights garrisoned in Fengyuan City. They might be able to temporarily assemble some of the City Guard, but the total number won’t exceed two thousand.”

Pierce picked up two Magical Energy Bullets, representing his army’s objectives, and placed them directly on the inner city Military Barracks and the Duke’s Manor. “Our artillery bombardment can only be directed at these two locations. The ground troops must advance with sufficient speed to avoid harming commoners as much as possible.”

Wayne asked in a low voice, “What about the North Gate, which is being left open…”

“The Special Operations Squad will lie in ambush there beforehand. It’s a gap deliberately left for the Duke’s family to retreat through. Otherwise, after we take Fengyuan City, we’ll have to go through the trouble of hunting them down inside the city.”

When it came to setting traps to wipe them all out in one fell swoop, Pierce was quite experienced. Southerners didn’t have magical identification cards like those in the pioneer territories; just identifying and verifying the identities of the defeated nobles would be a massive headache for them.

…

City Guard Captain Hansen was thrown from his chair to the floor by a terrifyingly loud bang. Before he could scramble to his feet and rush out of the building to see what was happening, a continuous series of rumbles, accompanied by the shaking of the ground and the house, nearly made him lose his footing again.

“What’s happening?!” Seeing a guard with a blood-streaked face burst in, Hansen grabbed the man by the collar and demanded, “Did one of those Spellcaster lords in the city miscast a spell into our City Guard barracks?”

The guard’s face was a mask of terror and confusion. He stammered, “I-I don’t know, my lord! Strange things are falling from the sky. We can’t see what they are. Not just the barracks—the city gate and the top of the wall have been blown to smithereens. The guards posted nearby…”

Hansen shoved the guard aside, snatched his side sword from the wall, and sprinted out of the barracks.

Only when he was outside did he discover that the entire City Guard camp, built alongside the city wall, had been engulfed in a sea of flames. Not far away, the heavy wooden city gate had been split down the middle, slanting to the side like two pieces of torn cloth. A few unlucky guards were trapped underneath, their miserable screams for help echoing through the air.

Several gaps had also been blown open in the top of the wall. Fortunately, with the cold weather, no guards had been on long patrols along the wall, so there were no casualties there.

“What in the world is going on! Who dares attack the City Guard!” Hansen felt overwhelmed, but he still had some sense about him. He quickly called over a guard and ordered, “Go to the knightly order’s garrison in the inner city at once and ask for reinforcements! There may be enemies hidden in the city, causing chaos!”

Just as the guard mounted his horse to race toward the inner city, a squad of City Guard soldiers, looking even more battered, ran crying toward Hansen. “Captain! It’s terrible! It’s the enemy from Three-Forks Town!”

What? Three-Forks Town?

Hansen’s heart sank. “They came by ship? Why didn’t we receive any warning from the docks?”

“There was no time! They stopped their ships far away. We didn’t even get a clear look at who it was before the entire dock suddenly went ‘boom’ and was blasted to smithereens! They must have Spellcasters on their ships attacking us!”

Hansen immediately recalled the terrifying rumor about the fleet full of elite knights that the Duke had sent to Three-Forks Town, from which not a single man had ever returned to Fengyuan City.

That border lord, the one who had openly defied the entire St. Valen Duchy, had actually come knocking at their door with such brazen arrogance.

And they had received no news, no warning whatsoever. How on earth had they managed that?

Before he could think it through, several more whistling sounds came from overhead. The City Guard soldiers almost instinctively dove to the ground for cover.

This time, Hansen finally figured out where the attack was coming from… The massive roars from the direction of the docks could not be completely drowned out by the horrific scene of utter chaos in the camp.

“It’s the docks! The enemy is attacking us from the docks!”

Heavens… how were they able to attack the city gate from so far away?

These terrifying things flying through the sky and exploding upon impact—what kind of strange magical weapon were they!

Chapter 397: Street Fight

Benny leaned against a hastily erected barricade, clearly hearing the sound of footsteps coming from the street corner ahead.

The scraping of metal armor… it was a knight, but not on horseback.

He raised the Magical Energy Gun in his hands, aiming at the spot where the enemy would soon appear. This was the main route from the Fengyuan Knightly Order’s barracks to the Duke’s Manor. After taking the outer city, they had split into two forces to intercept any potential enemy reinforcements in different areas of the inner city.

From the moment they arrived at Fengyuan City aboard the ironclad ship, the siege assault had progressed with incredible speed. The battle had only been raging for less than an hour and a half, yet Fengyuan City’s docks, the outer city, and the City Guard barracks had all fallen under the control of the Northern Army.

Benny’s combat squad was responsible for intercepting the Fengyuan Knightly Order as they attempted to reinforce the Duke’s Manor. He had never imagined he would kill an enemy with his own hands so quickly, and a fully armed, orthodox knight at that. The moment he saw the man, a bullet from his gun squarely in his chest, fall backward to the ground, his mind had simply shut down. He could only numbly follow his Group Leader’s commands, mechanically repeating the stiff motions of raising his gun and firing.

“Don’t lose focus! They’re coming again!” a rifle barrel suddenly appeared beside him. Benny turned his head to see it was his Group Leader, Newman.

“I hear them. Those bastards are trying to sneak past our blockade…” Benny’s expression was focused, but his voice was somewhat listless. “It’s too dark. I can’t even see how many there are.”

Newman clapped the new recruit on the shoulder, his tone half-mocking, half-comforting. “Technically, this isn’t your first kill, right? Unless, of course, you don’t consider vile orcs to be ‘people.’”

Benny shrank back, not daring to argue. During his practical training as a recruit, he had indeed hit a vile orc that had nearly reached the trenches by firing wildly. But afterward, when it was time to clean up the battlefield, he hadn’t dared to go near the corpses, hiding in the back and retching for who knows how long.

He hesitated for a moment before asking timidly, “Group Leader, our comrades who were wounded and sent to the rear… they’ll all make it, right?”

The Group Leader’s eyes narrowed, his voice turning cold and hard. “Maybe. No one can guarantee a one-hundred-percent survival rate in war. All you can do is try your best to make fewer mistakes, so you don’t get yourself killed or drag down your comrades.”

Benny nodded. From his initial nervousness and panic to his current numbness and confusion, he was finally beginning to understand what Commander Wayne had meant during basic training: Only by experiencing a true life-and-death battle can you become a qualified soldier.

…

“Watch it! Here they come!” Group Leader Newman suddenly shouted, decisively pulling the trigger. The flare of light from the Magical Energy Bullet striking an enemy’s armor illuminated the enemies rushing out from the street corner—seven or eight men, slowly advancing towards them while holding massive steel shields. A corner of one shield had been blown off, likely the result of the Group Leader’s last shot. Benny could even see the terrified face of the young knight behind the gap in the shield.

They now knew for certain that even sturdy shields forged from fine steel could not stop the Magical Energy Guns in the hands of the Northern Army soldiers.

But they still resolutely carried out their orders, advancing with the shields held high, unafraid of death.

The Group Leader’s shot had given the other soldiers a target. Benny immediately raised his gun, aimed at an enemy hiding behind a shield, and fired without hesitation.

The bullet pierced the shield without slowing down. The knight behind it let out a scream and then fell to the ground with a thud. The enemies on either side quickly closed the gap, filling the space left by their fallen comrade.

More and more soldiers began to open fire at will, picking off the desperate shield-bearers one by one. In the dark, empty street, the only sounds were the enemies’ synchronized footsteps, their faintly fearful panting, the thuds of bodies hitting the ground after being shot… and the relentless, silent gunfire of the Northern Army.

“Are they just marching up here to die for nothing?” Group Leader Newman was starting to feel that something was wrong. The shield-bearers in the front rank had been cut down long ago, yet more men from the rear kept coming up to take their place, still holding the battered shields… Who were they providing this suicidal cover for?

Before he could figure it out, the dwindling number of shield-bearers finally pushed forward to a position less than two hundred meters from the Northern Army’s firing line. They then tossed their giant shields aside and scattered, revealing a dark, pressing mass behind them.

“It’s the Fengyuan knights!” Benny’s eyes widened in surprise. He only now noticed that the hooves of their warhorses were wrapped in thick cotton cloth to muffle the crisp clatter they would normally make. Silently, under the cover of the towering shields, they had advanced to an extremely close range.

Shing!

With the synchronized sound of drawing swords, the leading knight in black clothes and silver armor roared, “For His Lordship the Duke! For Fengyuan City! Charge with me!”

The well-built, highly trained warhorses needed no running start to build momentum. Under the control of their expert riders, they reared up in an instant, launching themselves toward the Northern Army’s position as if shot from a catapult.

“Volley! Volley! Empty your magazines!” several of the Northern Army’s Group Leaders and Captains roared, standing up from behind their cover and firing madly at the advancing knights.

Benny’s body went stiff with fear at the sight of the massed charge. He kept his finger clamped on the trigger even after his bullets were spent, completely forgetting the procedure for a quick reload. Through the flashes of gunfire, he could faintly see the hot breath snorting from the nostrils of the enemy warhorses and the cold glint of their metal armor.

One of the knights at the forefront raised his arm and threw. A silver glint flashed from the javelin in his hand, and with a squelch, it pierced the shoulder of a new recruit next to Benny, the force of the impact pinning the unlucky man to the ground.

Blood gushed from the soldier’s shoulder, and as he let out a bloodcurdling scream, crimson foam seeped from his mouth and nose. The sight terrified Benny so much that he could no longer maintain his semi-crouched firing stance. He flopped onto the ground, his teeth chattering uncontrollably.

An old veteran quickly emptied his magazine, slung his rifle over his back, and lunged forward in a couple of great strides. He snapped the shaft of the javelin pinning the soldier with his bare hands, grabbed the man by the collar, and began dragging him quickly to the rear.

The distance of a hundred-odd meters was covered in an instant by the Fengyuan knights’ desperate charge. More and more soldiers who had emptied their magazines but had not had time to reload were struck by enemy javelins.

“They’re trying to trade their lives for ours! They want to break through the encirclement!”

“Fall back! Fall back! Retreat to the second line!”

“The wounded, get the wounded out of here!”

Benny felt his belt tighten. Before he could react, Group Leader Newman had grabbed him by the waist and was pulling him stumbling toward the rear. The only thing he could remember now was not to let go of the gun in his hands.

Am I going to die here…? The moment the sliver of fear surfaced in Benny’s mind, Newman stomped on his back, pressing him flat against the ground.

Then, from the second defensive line behind him, he heard a dense burst of gunfire with no gaps in between…

The next second, a series of sickening sounds erupted from the enemy ranks that had nearly reached them—the sounds of flesh being torn apart, bones snapping, and the ear-grating screech of armor splintering.

A torrent of bullets whistled over Benny’s head, and the thick stench of blood washed over him.

The intense firing lasted less than a minute. When the Group Leader pulled Benny up from the ground again, he was stunned to see that the enemies who had been on the verge of breaking through the first line had now completely vanished.

Before him was a hellish, bloody scene. The ground was strewn with the severed limbs of countless men and horses. Minced flesh was piled in a pool of thick blood deep enough to cover his ankles. Not a single complete corpse could be pieced together from the carnage.

Group Leader Newman stepped over the sandbag barricade, picked up a relatively intact steel longsword from the heap of flesh, and grinned fiercely as he flicked a piece of gore from the blade.

Benny felt something churning in his stomach. He bent over and dry-heaved a few times, but only managed to bring up some sour fluid.

“Those bastards from the Machine Gun Squad!” an old captain cursed. “If you’d been half a minute later, we’d have been in hand-to-hand combat with these damn knights!”

Chapter 398: A Resounding Victory

A blindingly fast glint of a blade flashed, followed by the dull thud of a body hitting the ground.

The enemy was cleaved in two from the shoulder by the alchemical longblade, his armor and shield offering no resistance. He hadn’t even seen how this ferocious-looking non-human enemy had struck.

As the bisected corpse fell, spouting blood, the remaining enemies blocking the breach in the main gate couldn’t help but reveal expressions of terror and despair.

Dav sneered and flicked the sticky blood from his longblade. He took a step forward and swept out viciously, sending another head with wide-open eyes soaring into the air.

Before he could raise his blade to strike again, the last two men had no time to resist before their chests and abdomens were sliced open, spilling hot entrails and blood across the ground.

Suddenly, the sound of a blade piercing the air came from overhead. Dav twisted his body, dodging a crossbow bolt shot from the shadows above. Behind him, Wayne raised his gun and fired without even looking up. A muffled grunt was heard from above, followed by silence.

“Where’s your gun!” Wayne complained with a frown. “The Duke’s Manor castle has a complex layout. Watch out for them launching sneak attacks!”

Dav pursed his lips, unconcerned. “It’s too cramped to use a gun indoors. Besides, I prefer the feeling of blade meeting flesh. It’s exhilarating!”

Under the leadership of Dav and Wayne, a squad of Bloodline Warriors crushed the enemies defending the side gate of the Duke’s Manor castle in less than a few minutes.

The Duke’s personal guards, who had planned to defend the manor to the death while awaiting aid from the Fengyuan Knights in the inner city, had never encountered such terrifying opponents. When they tried to trade shots with the enemy from the castle walls using crossbows and longbows, they were swiftly picked off by ranged weapons from sources they couldn’t even see. The terrifying accuracy scared them from ever peeking out from the walls or windows again.

The enemies who stormed the manor were even more frightening. They were all powerful mid-rank or higher Bloodline Warriors, more valiant and swift than ferocious Demonic beasts. None of the regular personal guards could last a single exchange against their longblades. Unable to dodge or block, the guards could only fight a retreating battle, falling back into the underground defensive fortifications.

“Tch! They’ve lowered the stone gate in the bunker…” Dav narrowed his eyes and spat, feeling a little unsatisfied.

Vaughn approached slowly from outside the castle and came to the bunker entrance, where the Bloodline Warriors were gathered. He frowned. “The bunker must have an emergency secret passage leading outside. I wonder if it leads directly out of the city or to somewhere else within Fengyuan City…”

A man dressed in civilian clothes, who looked nothing like a soldier, was standing beside him. He let out a soft laugh. “There’s no need to worry about the Duke’s family and relatives escaping. Our people have already infiltrated the Duke’s Manor’s attendants. We just need to wait for the word to make the arrests.”

Vaughn knew that the Lord and Lord Astaren had arranged for many secret police to infiltrate Fengyuan City a long time ago. He hadn’t expected them to have even penetrated the Duke’s Manor. It was truly done without anyone knowing.

The area around the Duke’s Manor was brightly lit by countless bonfires and torches. A battalion of more than five hundred Northern Army soldiers had it completely surrounded.

It was now the middle of the night. The artillery bombardment from the outer city’s docks had long since ceased. Only a few streets in the inner city still saw sporadic street fights, where soldiers from other battalions were operating in squads to hunt down and eliminate Duke Ralph’s remaining knights and scattered personal guards.

The vassal nobles and members of the Duke’s branch families who resided in Fengyuan City had long been rounded up from their respective manors, tied up, and gathered in the Duke’s Manor. With Magical Energy Guns pressed to their backs, their faces pale, they were forced to shout for the surrender of the remaining enemies stubbornly holding out in the upper levels of the castle.

“They’re all just stubborn loyalists. We should just set the place on fire…” Dav grumbled impatiently.

Duke Ralph had already fled to Goldshine City. These relatives he had left behind as a decoy didn’t seem to be of any use in convincing anyone to surrender.

The secret police officer beside Vaughn quickly waved his hands. “Absolutely not! The Duke’s family treasury is hidden underground, and the castle is full of gold, silver, valuables, and antiques. These are all the Lord’s spoils of war, and we can’t afford to waste a single bit of it!”

Vaughn nodded in agreement. This was also why he hadn’t ordered a full-on assault, afraid that the Duke’s cornered remnants, in their desperation, would burn everything down before they could be stopped.

Apart from the outer castle walls and the stone foundation, the rest of the Duke’s Manor was built of flammable wood. If a fire broke out, it would be difficult to extinguish.

“Co… Commander, My lord, I really did my best.” A pale-faced, portly nobleman was led trembling before the group of officers. He pleaded with a pained expression, “They… they simply refuse to surrender. I only said a few words, and they shot several crossbow bolts down from upstairs. I was almost…”

“Chief, let us take the Bloodline Warriors and charge up!” Wayne said to Vaughn in a low voice, frowning at the steep, spiral staircase.

“Where is Commander Pierce?” Vaughn turned and asked his personal guard.

“Lord Commander heard that we had already cleared out the main force of the troublesome Fengyuan Knightly Order, so he went back to the garrison at the docks… He said we are to finish the cleanup ourselves.”

The secret police officer who had been standing by all this time chuckled. “It seems the Lord Commander is testing the decision-making abilities of you officers in a real combat situation.”

Vaughn sighed and ordered the eager Dav and Wayne, “Then storm it. Go make the arrangements.”

…

At that moment, the small group of the Ralph family’s core followers, who had lowered the stone gate to the bunker and completely cut off the manor from the underground passage, were also trapped in a desperate dilemma.

“Lord Baron, don’t count on reinforcements anymore.” The Ralph family’s steward, looking disheveled, anxiously urged Duke Ralph’s own brother, Baron Simoni, who was in charge of the manor’s defense. “When the Duke left, he took all the Spellcaster advisors and bloodline knights with him. He didn’t leave us any forces to resist with… This… he’s completely disregarded whether we live or die!”

Baron Simoni leaned on his longsword, pacing back and forth in agitation. Finally, he couldn’t help but curse, “Damn that Louis! I told him to retreat into the bunker with us, but he insisted on taking the remaining personal guards to continue resisting. Now, other than retreating to the high ground of the castle, they probably have no chance of escape!”

When the enemy had first surrounded the Duke’s Manor, it became clear that resistance was futile. Simoni and Louis, the Duke’s Chief Knight, had a sharp disagreement. One decided to retreat into the bunker, lower the stone gate, and escape with the family through the secret passage.

The Chief Knight, however, staunchly opposed fleeing without a fight. He insisted on leading a group of guards loyal to the Duke in a last stand, to fulfill their duty to Duke Ralph, who had long since abandoned them.

“Of course we must evacuate immediately…” The Baron sheathed his longsword, his teeth clenched. “The secret passage leads directly outside the city. We have plenty of time to leave safely. Go and open the family treasury in the bunker immediately. Take only the gold and jewels. Burn the rest, hmph! Don’t leave a single spoil of war for the enemy!”

Chapter 399: Tying Up Loose Ends

Dawn was just breaking, yet the entire Fengyuan City showed no signs of returning to life.

All the city’s residents knew that foreign enemies had invaded, but as long as they hid in their homes and didn’t come out, the rioting soldiers who had stormed the city wouldn’t break into their houses to plunder.

For the common folk living on this land, it was a familiar sight to see great nobles and lords attack and seize each other’s territories.

Even if an army ran amok in the city, it would just be a wave of smashing, looting, arson, and abuse. One had only to endure it, and it would pass… After all, since ancient times, only non-human invaders were capable of carrying out a city-wide massacre.

…

Harvey, controlling his soul puppet, walked into the ravaged Duke’s Manor. Vaughn and the other Northern Army officers who had participated in the expedition were already kneeling on one knee in the great hall to welcome his arrival.

In fact, long before the army set out, Harvey had ordered Pierce to load this puppet onto the ironclad ship as well, so it could be awakened immediately after the battle concluded.

None of those present were seeing the Lord use his avatar puppet for the first time. Although they were looking at this slender, unfamiliar face with its black hair and black eyes, they could successfully hypnotize themselves by mentally repeating, This is the Lord, a few times.

The bodies of the dead in the castle had all been removed, but the stains and stench of blood were still so thick they were almost impossible to erase. Broken furnishings that had not yet been cleared away and discarded, broken weapons were visible everywhere.

Harvey could vividly imagine the scene of his Bloodline Warriors storming the castle and single-handedly crushing the stubbornly resisting enemies.

“All of you, rise.” Harvey waved a hand and walked over to the high-backed chair that had originally belonged to Duke Ralph, seating himself. “You have all done very well, completing this mission even more cleanly and efficiently than I had anticipated.”

A brown-haired man, the only one in the crowd not wearing a military uniform, stepped forward and knelt before Harvey on one knee in salute. “My Lord, I am the secret police officer in charge of intelligence in Fengyuan City. Please call me Handle 088.”

Harvey narrowed his eyes and smiled. “I know of you. It was you who, in cooperation with the intelligence police in Goldshine City, discovered Duke Ralph’s secret escape from Fengyuan City… which led to this successful surprise attack on his old lair. A job very well done.”

Handle 088 placed a hand on his chest and continued, “Our colleagues who were undercover in the Duke’s Manor, with the cooperation of the Special Operations Squad, have just captured all of the Duke’s relatives who were attempting to flee the city through a secret passage… Along with them, we seized a portion of the gold they were hastily carrying.”

It was pure gold, worth tens of thousands of gold pounds and of very fine quality, but it accounted for less than a fifth of the wealth in the Duke’s family treasury in his bunker. If their retreat hadn’t been so rushed, they would never have taken so little.

“Oh? When Duke Ralph ran off by himself, he didn’t take the vast fortune his family has accumulated for generations with him?”

This came as a surprise to Harvey. He supposed the Duke never imagined his home would be wiped out so quickly. “I thought they would have burned whatever property they couldn’t take…”

Handle 088 replied with a grin, “They did have that intention, but unfortunately for them, the person assigned to stay behind and set the fires was one of ours. Those antique treasures and large chests of coin were all preserved, completely intact.”

Harvey nodded, not paying much more attention to the spoils of war. After all, he was no longer as financially strapped as he once was. Besides, the wealth seized from a founding Duke was but a drop in the bucket for his vast domain of over fifty thousand people.

As long as these quickly liquidated gains from the war could basically offset the expenses the conflict had brought him, both Harvey himself and the territory’s Finance Department would likely be satisfied.

Funding a war with its own spoils was always the most effective strategy for outward expansion.

…

Harvey casually asked a few more questions about the cleanup of sporadic fighting throughout the city before giving a light cough and tapping his finger on the finely carved armrest of the chair.

The great hall immediately fell silent. From the soldiers standing guard with rifles by the walls to the officers gathered before Harvey, everyone stared intently at their lord.

“Three things… First, the secret police, in cooperation with the army, will immediately take over the administration of Fengyuan City. Pacify the populace and hunt down the Duke’s remnants.”

“Second, leave two battalions to be temporarily responsible for the garrison and defense of Fengyuan City. The Military Command will discuss and arrange the subsequent troop rotation… Regardless, I require this city to maintain a military presence of at least one thousand soldiers at all times.”

Fengyuan City was, after all, located in the central part of the Duchy, on flat terrain with routes extending in all directions. It was extremely convenient to reach any part of the Duchy by river or land. Most critically, it was less than a seven-day journey from the capital, Goldshine City, to the west.

If nothing unexpected happened, His Majesty the Grand Duke in Goldshine City and Grand Duke Ralph should receive news of Fengyuan City’s fall in five days. No matter when they decided to counter-attack… Harvey had to leave sufficient forces in Fengyuan City to repel them.

He paused, then raised his index finger. “One last thing. For all the captured remnants of the Duke and those vassal nobles in the city… I want to establish a tribunal, which will fully accept public denunciations and publicly try them for their crimes.”

Duke Ralph himself, using His Majesty the Grand Duke’s summons as a pretext, had actively instigated conflict between feudal lords, leading to widespread war and suffering within the Duchy. This was an indisputable fact.

But what would more easily stir the people’s hatred and resentment was how he had allowed his vassal nobles to arbitrarily levy taxes and force the populace into hard labor, while their knights and mercenaries engaged in relentless, layered exploitation, plundering and brutalizing the people of the surrounding fiefdoms.

“We must make the people of Fengyuan City understand that the Northern Army are not invaders, much less the enemies of the people here… We are just like them, resisters against the tyranny of the Duke and the nobility! And those greedy nobles who have committed grave crimes will be punished!”

“We shall obey the Lord’s command!” Pierce led the officers in kneeling once more on one knee. The other soldiers in the hall, their expressions stirred with emotion, also knelt to salute Harvey.

…

After arranging the general follow-up matters, Harvey kept Pierce and Handle 088 behind.

“What is the status of our soldiers’ casualties?”

“There were no fatalities during the capture of the outer city… It was mainly the second battalion. While intercepting the Fengyuan Knightly Order’s attempt to reinforce the Duke’s Manor in the streets, about twenty-some soldiers were killed in action due to the enemy’s dare-to-die charges.”

A considerable number of soldiers were also seriously wounded, but thanks to the army’s superb medical techniques, most of the injured did not have to worry about their wounds worsening. Those with missing limbs could even have metal prosthetic limbs grafted on; recovery was just a matter of time.

Harvey nodded, offering no reprimand—to assault a major city with a population of over ten thousand with only one thousand five hundred soldiers, keeping the death toll in the double digits was no small feat. The main reason was that the intensity of mortal warfare in this era was not particularly high. Aside from “extraordinary weapons of mass destruction” like Spellcasters, there were few direct and effective means of inflicting mass casualties on soldiers—unless one was incredibly unlucky and an uncontrollable epidemic broke out within the army.

Handle 088 leaned in and asked in a low voice, “My Lord, the Duke’s relatives we captured… how should they be handled? Should we imprison them for now, to be used as leverage against Duke Ralph when he counter-attacks…?”

Harvey chuckled and waved his hand. “No need for that. Those are the threatening games of nobles vying for power… Lock them up with the other nobles, treat them all the same, and let them face the people’s accusations and denunciations. Try them as they deserve to be tried!”

Chapter 400: Sweeping the Surrounding Area

The vassal nobles scattered across the fiefs and small towns surrounding Fengyuan City were laughably weak compared to the Ralph family’s elite knights and city garrison.

Most of these minor noble landowners couldn’t even mount an effective resistance, routing after a single volley in any direct engagement. The Northern Army soldiers sent to clear them out rarely had to change a magazine, finding the battles as easy as target practice back at the camp in the pioneer territories.

Operating in squads, the Northern Army swiftly cleared out the garrisons of the minor nobles around Fengyuan City, encountering almost no significant resistance. Their momentum only slowed when the enemy fell back to Duke Ralph’s hunting fortress on Fengyuan Ridge.

The soldiers, armed only with their magical energy rifles and machine guns, ran into unexpected trouble.

“Isn’t this just a damn turtle shell made of stone?” Team Leader Newman spat in frustration, staring at the sturdy stone fortress built against a cliff. “They even dug a moat by hand!”

Captain Chiron, a veteran from the pioneer territories and one of the first to enlist, was far more experienced than any of the junior officers present. But now, even he stood silent and grim-faced, unable to come up with a good way to crack this stone turtle shell.

“During our probing attack just now, the enemy rained arrows and bolts down on us… A number of our soldiers were wounded.”

They hadn’t brought any alchemical vehicles for transport on this expedition. Most of the squads sent out to conduct the sweep relied on horse-drawn carriages confiscated in the city. The nearest mobile medic team was still half a day’s journey away.

Chiron knew it would be reckless to attempt another frontal assault. A seriously wounded soldier could die before medical help arrived.

“Captain, the moat cuts off the fortress, and they’ve blocked the gate with boulders and logs. Our snipers picked off a few enemies who showed their heads on the walls, but now they won’t expose themselves at all. We’re stuck in a stalemate.”

If time were no object, the Northern Army could simply lay siege to the fortress. It would fall on its own once the defenders, resisting stubbornly in their hopeless situation, ran out of food and ammunition. The problem was, the Commander had only given them three days. They didn’t have time to waste on these cowards hiding in their shells.

“We’ll have to ask the Artillery Battalion for help…” Newman muttered. “Just a few shells on their gate would do it. It wouldn’t take much effort, and we could scare them into surrendering.”

Chiron’s face stiffened. He remembered how, as they’d left the city, he and several other squad leaders had openly mocked the artillery crews for being “slowpokes,” complaining that they and their heavy cannons couldn’t keep up with the infantry. Asking them for help now would be a slap in his own face.

At the thought, he spat in humiliation and anger. “Damn it! Which Ralph family bastard built this fortress?”

An intelligence officer accompanying the unit stepped forward. “Baron Frosthawk… Duke Ralph’s own nephew, and the former Chief of the Fengyuan Knightly Order. He was one of the Duke’s core followers, but after being severely wounded in battle several years ago, he could no longer serve. He was then cast aside like a worn-out shoe and sent to guard this hunting fortress on the edge of the fief.”

Harvey’s secret police were active within Fengyuan City, but their intelligence on the surrounding fiefs was mostly hearsay. No one had expected Baron Frosthawk to have turned this neglected hunting fortress into a veritable citadel. He had not only used the mountainous terrain to his advantage but had also diverted a stream into a hand-dug, five-meter-wide channel, creating a semi-circular “mini-moat.”

The entire fortress had only one entrance. To breach it, one would have to cross the moat and lower the drawbridge. But now, even the gate by the drawbridge was barricaded with boulders and massive logs, a clear sign of their determination to defend to the death.

According to the secret police, Duke Ralph hadn’t taken a single knight of the Frosthawk family with him when he fled to the capital. This meant the fortress was fully manned. Without siege weapons, it would be a tough nut to crack.

“Notify the Artillery Battalion to send a crew for support,” Captain Chiron ordered a messenger, sighing in resignation. “It’ll take them half a day to arrive. That’s all for today. Have the men make camp.”

…

As the sun dipped behind the mountain, bright bonfires flared to life outside the Northern Army’s tents. Even from a distance, the people in the fortress could see soldiers with strange-looking long rifles patrolling the camp’s perimeter, their vigilance unwavering.

A fully armored knight descended from the battlements with heavy steps and hurried into the fortress’s dim, cramped council hall. “Lord Baron, it appears the enemy plans to lay siege. They mean to starve us out…”

Seated in his chair, the gray-haired and disheveled Baron Frosthawk frowned. “What of the scouts? Has Fengyuan City truly fallen? And my uncle… the Duke… did he really abandon his fief and flee to the capital long ago?”

The young knight sneered in disgust. “The Duke was frightened to death by that terrifying assassination. He cares for neither his domain nor his family members, only for saving his own life.”

He paused, then asked tentatively in a low voice, “Father, ever since you angered him by opposing the mass conscription of laborers during the spring plowing, the great families of Fengyuan City have only ostracized and troubled us more. Now this… We have no reason to pledge fealty to him anymore. The Ralphs are not worthy…”

Before the young knight could finish, Baron Frosthawk slammed his palm onto the armrest of his chair. “How could words that dishonor a knight and break an oath come from the mouth of my own son?” he rebuked. “Let me hear you say such a thing again, and I will personally throw your side sword and armor into a ditch!”

The captain of the Baron’s personal guard stepped forward. “The scout sent out yesterday has returned. He said he saw the enemy use some kind of thundering magical weapon that can strike the defenders in Fengyuan City from hundreds of meters away. It seems to be an alchemical artifact made from Dragon’s Flame powder. It blew the entire outer city gate to smithereens.”

“The Mage Lord of Grizzly Keep… of course he would possess magical creations on par with the Federation’s. They’ve been plotting to rebel against His Majesty the Grand Duke for a long time. This surprise attack on Fengyuan City must be a coordinated effort with the Spellcasters of Da’ers.”

The young knight hesitated, then explained falteringly, “Father, it was Duke Ralph who first sent troops near Grizzly Keep… to harass the populace and plunder the villages… I heard Frostflower County suffered the worst from his army’s depredations. Refugees have been flocking to Grizzly Keep in droves…”

Baron Frosthawk opened his mouth, but the undeniable truth left him speechless. He could only turn his head away in embarrassment.

The captain of the personal guard tactfully changed the subject. “I will go check our reserves of weapons and food in the cellar. Since they seem to want a protracted siege…”

Before he could finish his sentence, an earth-shattering blast erupted outside. A low, rolling thunder boomed across the sky, and the stone ceiling of the council hall shook so violently that dust rained down from it.

The three of them stumbled out of the hall to a shocking sight: the fortress’s once-sturdy main gate was blown wide open. The soldiers who had been guarding it lay mangled on the ground, long since dead.

Despair washed over Baron Frosthawk. The enemy is using that terrifying alchemical weapon on us!

Chapter 401: New Order

Duke Ralph’s manor was far more luxurious and spacious than Harvey’s Lord’s Castle. This was evident just from the furnishings in the duke’s private study and living quarters. Carved oak bookcases took up two entire walls, the edges of all the wooden furniture were meticulously inlaid with gilded borders, and all sorts of books filled the place to the brim. His collection was so vast it rivaled that of a research-type Spellcaster’s Mage Tower.

Perhaps truly frightened by that assassination attempt, all the outward-facing windows in the Duke’s Manor were nailed shut with wooden planks and covered from the inside with thick velvet curtains. Daylight could not penetrate the interior at all, casting a gloomy and dark pall over the vast castle.

Harvey did not much care for this environment. To him, his own small study, with its large French windows, ample light, and warmth that was always as pleasant as spring, was much more to his liking.

The sound of a personal guard’s low inquiry was suddenly heard from outside, followed by a gentle knock on the door.

“Come in!” Harvey put down the book he was casually flipping through and looked up to see Commander Pierce entering the room.

“My lord, the interrogation of the noble captives is complete.” Pierce bowed slightly and placed a stack of papers in front of Harvey.

“Is this the complete list? Are these all the nobles left in Duke Ralph’s fief?” Harvey picked up the list and examined it carefully, his voice tinged with doubt.

“Yes,” Pierce answered affirmatively. “The Ralph family has always been cautious in ennobling vassal nobles. There were a total of one hundred and thirty-six minor nobles and knights under their rule. Excluding the hardliners who died in our military operations, those who surrendered voluntarily or were captured due to ignorance total seventy people. Most of them are landed knights and declining minor nobles from areas far from Fengyuan City.”

Harvey nodded and turned to the first page of the list. He saw that the first few lines listed Duke Ralph’s core family members—besides the fifth Duchess, there were also the Duke’s own three young children. When Duke Ralph fled, he had only taken his eldest son and two close nephews, abandoning the rest of his large family.

Aside from them, the highest-ranking member of the Ralph family captured alive in all of Fengyuan City was the Duke’s own younger brother, Baron Simoni. According to the report from the Bloodline Warriors who captured them, this Lord Baron had been leading his family members out of the city through a secret passage, carrying several chests of gold. The moment he emerged, he was caught by a Northern Army special operations squad that had been lying in wait at the secret passage’s exit. He himself was quite defiant, drawing his longsword in an attempt to fight his way out, but was promptly shot in the leg.

Harvey quickly finished reading the entire list and tapped the table in satisfaction. “Well done. What’s the feedback from the city’s populace?”

Pierce’s expression was a little strange. He hesitated for a moment before saying, “My lord, although we’ve done our best to communicate our stance to the populace and have encouraged them to actively report the crimes of these nobles… for a commoner to accuse a noble is something unheard of for the locals. They wouldn’t even dare to think about it.”

Harvey had anticipated this. No matter how fiercely the nobles fought and seized land from one another, for the ordinary laboring masses, it was simply a matter of switching one lord for another to continue exploiting and oppressing them. Angering a noble and being casually beaten or killed was just considered bad luck. Rising up in rebellion when one could bear it no longer would only result in the tragic fate of being hanged or displayed at the city gates.

The people, firmly tied to the land, could only bury their heads and focus on the harvest of the fields before them. It was hard enough just to survive without starving.

“Since the people dare not report the nobles’ crimes, then let the nobles confess themselves…” Harvey looked up at Pierce and said coolly, “You’ve always been good at interrogation anyway. I trust you’ll be able to reach a ‘just’ verdict very soon.”

Pierce immediately understood his hint. The corners of his mouth curled up slightly. He bowed and left in a hurry.

In truth, guilt or innocence was just a pretext. For these “exploiters” who had spent generations sucking the blood of the people, Harvey felt that even if every other one of them was shot, there would still be fish that slipped through the net. It was simply impossible that any of them were being wrongly accused.

Not long after Pierce left, secret police agent 088, who was in charge of intelligence work in Fengyuan City, came to see Harvey.

“My lord, what… do you plan to do with these noble captives?”

“Oh?” Harvey raised an eyebrow, curious. “Do you have someone among them that you’ve won over?”

088 nodded. After bowing, he slowly explained, “Baron Frosthawk’s second son, Sir Ross, has always been a target for us to win over and turn.”

Harvey couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “That stubborn Baron Frosthawk? I heard that when the fortress on Fengyuan Ridge was breached, he saw he was defeated and was even about to commit suicide to avoid the humiliation of capture. But his son and personal guards knocked him out on the spot and dragged him here to surrender, is that right?”

He found the page for the Frosthawk family in the list of nobles on the table, checked it, then picked up a pen and crossed out the name of the young man called Ross.

“You’ve been in Fengyuan City for less than half a year, and you’ve already managed to turn a noble. It seems Astaren’s training has been very effective.”

088 said modestly, “Thank you for your praise, my lord. The main reason is that this young man is kind-hearted. He’s a rare individual who adheres to the knightly code but isn’t inflexible in his actions. Plus, his birth wasn’t particularly noble; his birth mother was a commoner handmaiden, so he has always sympathized with the common people.”

Harvey nodded and instructed, “Then hold off for a bit. Bring him to me after the public trial of the nobles is over.”

With that, he rose and walked to the bookcase, randomly pulling out a biography of the Ralph family and began to flip through it. “In addition, have your men start announcing to the populace in the city as soon as possible that in one week at the latest, I will hold a public trial for all the nobles in the inner city’s Bell Tower Square. Those with serious crimes will be sentenced to be hanged in public, while accomplices will be sent to the Northern Realm for imprisonment or hard labor…”

“Dir… directly execute them?” 088’s expression was one of astonishment. “I was thinking… if word of a large-scale execution of nobles spreads to other parts of the country, won’t it cause…”

Just as expected of someone from an ancient wizard family like Astaren. The intelligence agent he personally trained has completely set aside class sentiments in his thinking, focusing more on political impact and weighing pros and cons… Harvey shook his head with a faint smile, realizing that the subordinates he had cultivated were better at political maneuvering than he was.

He sighed, looked at the young man of similar age standing before him, and patiently explained, “This is an inevitable outcome… In the future, under my rule, there will be no more hereditary nobles with real power. Those titles will eventually become mere empty honors representing individual and family prestige. And once the people have tasted the sweetness of not being arbitrarily oppressed, they will naturally become our greatest supporters.”

As for those hereditary nobles—after losing their fiefs and power under Harvey’s military pressure, if they wanted to save their lives and continue living comfortably, they would have to prostrate themselves at his feet and follow the laws and policies he enacted. Only then would they have a chance to secure legitimate benefits for the continuation of their families.

Of course, the powerful military force Harvey provided would also serve as their backing. Once they tasted the benefits of “magical technology is the primary productive force,” they probably wouldn’t want to return to their current ignorant and decadent state. After all, the fiefs and industries of most lower-ranking minor nobles were not wealthy, and they even faced the risk of bankruptcy if they managed them poorly. And it just so happened that this group made up the largest number within the nobility.

He believed they would soon realize that by clinging tightly to him, they could easily live a comfortable life they could never have imagined before.

Chapter 402: Public Trial

Three days later, as promised, Harvey held a public trial at Bell Tower Square in Fengyuan City.

To explain the unwarranted disaster of a war they had just endured, Harvey had already arranged for municipal administrators from the Northern Realm to arrive and take over. They publicly announced throughout the city that Duke Ralph and his family had unprovokedly invaded the territory of a neighboring lord. Furthermore, he ordered the secret police to spread the news widely, making it clear to the residents that he, the border lord who now occupied Fengyuan City, had taken over under the legitimate banner of “self-defense and counterattack.”

The bells of the vast square rang at noon, but the crowd that gathered was smaller than expected. Although Fengyuan City’s climate was much warmer than the Northern Realm’s, the pre-spring chill and the generally thin clothing of the local populace still deterred many from attending.

But as long as some people came, it was enough. Harvey believed that as time went on, word-of-mouth among the populace would be more effective than having his men go door-to-door to spread his message.

“People of Fengyuan City, good afternoon!” Harvey ascended a temporarily constructed high platform and surveyed the crowd below. “I am Harvey Floyd, Lord of the Northern Realm. Most of you have probably never heard my name.”

A secret police officer disguised as a commoner in the crowd suddenly shouted, “I know you, respected Lord! You are the lord who took in and treated the sick refugees in the border region when the Rotting Plague was spreading in the capital!”

As soon as these words were spoken, many who had personally experienced that terrible plague began to discuss it in low voices. “The plague potions secretly sold on Fengyuan City’s black market back then were also rumored to be this Lord’s doing. Duke Ralph didn’t care if we lived or died, but a neighboring lord sent medicine into the city… and what’s more, the price was very low. Almost everyone could afford it.”

At the time, secretly selling the plague potions to the surrounding areas had been mainly to prevent the widespread outbreak of the plague, while also earning a handsome sum in “export revenue.” But now, it served perfectly to package it as an act of compassion for the people.

Harvey waved his hand and continued, “First, I offer my apologies and condolences to the people who were innocently harmed or suffered property damage during this conflict with Duke Ralph… This was a conspiracy from the capital, Goldshine City. To curry favor with the Church, Grand Duke St. Valen insisted on interfering in the conflict with the Federation’s Spellcasters. To this end, he instigated Duke Ralph to provoke me time and again, not only seizing my caravans and abducting my residents but also sending his army to invade my territory… Finally, my patience ran out, and I decided to lead my forces in a counterattack.”

Harvey had no intention of delving too deeply into the truth of the matter. The general public preferred the “gossip” and “secret rumors” they gleaned for themselves over his formal, public declarations. And that particular channel of information was precisely the “propaganda front” that the secret police were skilled at managing.

Soon, Harvey shifted the topic to the main event: the trial of the nobles’ crimes.

“During this conflict, the nobles I captured have all undergone private interrogation and have already confessed to some of their shameless crimes… These include not only their disputes and grievances with me but also the grave sins they committed against the innocent people of Fengyuan City in the past.”

The moment he finished speaking, the atmosphere in the crowd below clearly grew more heated. Although they dared not stand up and openly accuse the nobles, watching the once high-and-mighty Noble lords being tried and punished was likely the most welcome spectacle for the common folk of this world.

Harvey handed this part over to Commander Pierce and the relevant personnel from the pioneer territories’ Police Department. He then sat down to one side of the platform, becoming a spectator himself.

The results of the interrogations had already been decided. Duke Ralph’s loyalists were dragged onto the high platform one by one and forced to kneel in a row before the populace. Behind them stood solemn-faced soldiers of the Northern Army. Pierce stood before an alchemical amplifier and loudly proclaimed their charges—their crimes ranged from unprovoked invasions of a neighboring lord’s territory to condoning their soldiers’ plunder of the populace, to imposing exorbitant taxes and exploiting the residents. It was practically a textbook example of how the nobility of this era oppressed and brutalized commoners.

Under Pierce’s superb interrogation techniques, some nobles who could not endure the torture had even confessed in exhaustive detail to acts such as abducting a young woman and injuring her family members on a certain day of a certain month of a certain year, maliciously forcing down prices when buying high-quality furs from the populace, and chronically failing to pay their tabs at a certain shop.

After the soldiers’ neat volley of rifle fire—bang, bang, bang—executed the first batch of nobles who had committed “grave sins” right there in the square, the populace finally believed that this foreign lord on the high platform truly intended to try and execute the nobles and, in the process, deliver justice for them.

“I… I want to report Baron Louis’s crimes! He… during the spring plowing this year, he repeatedly raised the hard labor tax in his territory. We had to sell the wheat seeds we had saved up just to pay the tax, and in the end, we couldn’t even sow our fields!”

“I want to make an accusation too! Sir Andrew, yes! He’s the deputy leader of Duke Ralph’s personal guard. To expand his mansion in Fengyuan City, he seized the homes of us surrounding residents without reason, tore down the houses that sheltered us from the wind and rain, but didn’t give a single coin in compensation!”

“Me too…”

With some deliberate prodding, more and more people began to muster the courage to stand up and accuse the nobles. In the end, of the more than seventy people on trial, over ten of the Duke’s core followers who had committed more serious crimes were sentenced to death and publicly executed. The lesser nobles who were staunchly denounced by the populace were imprisoned, their fates depending on the severity of their crimes, to await transport back to the pioneer territories of the Northern Realm, where the mines and lumberyards were in dire need of such high-quality, free labor.

The “stick” performance was over; it was time for the “carrot” to appear.

Harvey stood once more by the amplifier on the platform, cleared his throat, and ignored the bloody execution site to one side. “I know that during this conflict, many disturbances occurred in Fengyuan City. Some thugs took advantage of the chaos to loot and plunder, causing dozens of houses to be burned down… Of course, my army also destroyed many residents’ homes during the fighting, and the conflict led to the deaths of more than thirty commoners.”

His tone became somber. He placed a hand on his chest and bowed slightly to the crowd below. “Here, in my capacity as a border lord, I apologize to the people of Fengyuan City. The harm the war has brought you was beyond my control, and for that, I am deeply remorseful!”

Harvey’s words caused another stir among the populace. No one had ever witnessed a noble lord bowing and apologizing to the common people. In this purely feudal country with its strict hierarchy, such a scene was simply unheard of and unseen. Many wore expressions of shock and bewilderment.

But Harvey’s next words were something they would never have expected, not even in their dreams.

“Regardless, the harm and losses you have suffered must be duly compensated!” Harvey took a notice from the personal guard behind him and began to read it aloud himself in earnest. “For the commoners who died innocently in the conflict, their family members will receive a one-time compensation of fifteen gold pounds. For those whose houses were damaged… they will be repaired free of charge within three months. Of course, you can also choose to receive a cash payment to purchase another property.”

As for those who suffered other property damage or were accidentally injured, the soon-to-be-established Fengyuan City Hall would naturally be responsible for verifying their claims and providing compensation and free treatment.

Before long, soldiers carried heavy wooden chests filled with coins onto the stage and began distributing the compensation funds according to a list. When the populace saw that this border lord was actually handing out money on the spot, that it wasn’t just an empty promise, the atmosphere immediately grew fervent. Cheers rose, one wave after another, and more people rushed over to ask questions, surrounding the square until it was packed solid.

Secret Police Officer 088 stood behind Harvey and asked in a low voice, “My lord, why not move the people of Fengyuan City back to the Northern Realm? We’re in desperate need of fresh labor right now…”

Harvey chuckled lightly and shook his head without answering.

Fengyuan City had a population of just over ten thousand; he truly hadn’t considered relocating the local populace. The terrain here was flat, and it was located in the center of the Duchy. If managed properly, it could become a “premium granary” producing large amounts of food in the future. If the non-human race enemies from the north were to truly invade the barren lands, this place might even become Harvey’s “strategic rear” one day.

Chapter 403: Coercion and Enticement

After the bloody and brutal Public Trial, Harvey held a banquet before his return to the Northern Realm to appease the remaining small nobles who had surrendered and soothe their fearful hearts.

The banquet was once again arranged in the “buffet” style Harvey favored. However, limited by Fengyuan City’s scarce winter resources and primitive culinary methods, it seemed a bit incongruous.

Fortunately, the minor nobles attending the feast had no appetite for food. Most of them wore anxious expressions, clustered around the upper echelons of the Northern Realm’s leadership, with Harvey at the center.

The minor nobles present were all insignificant figures with no soldiers of their own, and they had not clashed with the Northern Army at all during the great battle for Fengyuan City. After a few glasses of wine, even the mid-to-low-ranking officers of the Northern Army, who were usually stern with the southern nobles, began to soften their expressions.

Although Harvey held a wine glass, not a single drop touched his lips. His own men knew he was in a special state, controlling his avatar puppet. The local nobles who were unaware certainly didn’t dare to force a drink upon this de facto “King of the Frontier.”

“Heh, I originally thought… that completely abolishing the Church’s faith in Fengyuan City and its surroundings would be met with your strong opposition. I didn’t expect it to be implemented so smoothly.”

Several of the small nobles surrounding Harvey tensed up. They exchanged glances before one cautiously replied, “My Lord, the area around Fengyuan City was never a particularly devout parish for the Church… yet the believer’s tax has been levied at a high rate year after year. Everyone has long been greatly dissatisfied with the Church.”

This was not false. After all, when the Radiant Church was exploiting believers for profit, they didn’t just fleece the common folk. To them, the nobles and wealthy merchants were juicy, fat sheep, and they always operated on the principle that “the fuller the purse, the more one should offer to my Lord.”

The great nobles might have been able to gain some benefits from their close cooperation with the Church, but the small nobles were simply carved up and fleeced—after all, their fiefs were not prosperous, and their residents were already paying taxes to the Church, which naturally meant less money in their own pockets.

Under these circumstances, Harvey had naturally selected them as the primary targets to win over.

He clapped his hands and ordered his personal guard to bring over a wooden tray covered in red silk. On it rested a custom-made Magical Revolver. Compared to the standard-issue military model, it clearly had more handcrafted decorations and engravings, giving it a mysterious and beautiful aesthetic.

“My lord… what is the meaning of this?” The small nobles looked rather horrified. They were well aware that this weapon, like the long rifles slung over the soldiers’ backs, was one of the very things that had crushed the Ralph family of Fengyuan City.

“I believe many of you have seen this before.” Harvey chuckled softly and explained, “This revolver… is a mass-produced magical weapon made in my territory.”

He raised a hand, gesturing for everyone to gather closer, then picked up the revolver and handed it to one of the minor nobles. “What do you all think of the difficulty of crafting this weapon and its forging process?”

The noble who had the gun thrust into his hand stiffened, unsure whether to hold onto the heavy revolver or put it down.

“My… My Lord, forgive my frankness, but an ordinary weaponsmith would likely be completely incapable of forging such an exquisite magical weapon. This must be the work of an Alchemist possessed of extraordinary power.”

Harvey roared with laughter at this. “Completely wrong. I won’t hide it from you… a short revolver just like this one, my munitions factory can mass-produce one thousand of them every month. It would only take a month and a half to equip an army capable of conquering Fengyuan City.”

Pierce, who had been standing by Harvey’s side, stepped forward at the opportune moment and added in a cold voice, “At the same time, the munitions factory can also produce more than double that number of repeating rifles—the model the soldiers carry on their backs.”

“In… incredible, My Lord. To command such a powerful and prosperous territory in the Northern Realm… Ha… hahaha… ha.” The nobles forced sycophantic smiles and chimed in anxiously.

Only one young noble with a bandage still wrapped around his forehead took the initiative to accept the revolver. He examined it repeatedly with a look of curiosity and shock, then mustered the courage to ask Harvey, “Lord, may I ask how you managed to enable mortal soldiers to use magical weapons?”

A noble standing beside him, who was clearly an acquaintance, quickly tugged at his robe, signaling him not to be so reckless and rude as to publicly pry into a great lord’s military secrets.

Harvey, however, didn’t mind in the slightest. He smiled and asked in return, “What is your name?”

“Ross, Ross Ralph, a knight enfeoffed by the Frosthawk family, My Lord.” The young man seemed unafraid of letting Harvey know he was a member of a branch of Duke Ralph’s family, his expression perfectly calm.

So it’s the one who knocked out his own father to surrender. A pragmatic young man.

Harvey nodded and hinted, “The answer is simple. Follow me back to the pioneer territories in the Northern Realm, and you will understand the mystery.”

He had barely finished speaking when Ross’s eyes lit up. Without a second’s hesitation, he placed a hand over his chest and bowed. “It would be my honor, My Lord!”

The other nobles looked at Ross as if he were a fool, unable to comprehend why he would actively walk straight into the lion’s den. No matter how you looked at it, they were on the “losing side.” Preserving their lives and their family property was already a testament to the other party’s mercy, but abandoning one’s estate to go alone to the victor’s domain was simply insane.

“Do you all perhaps think my lands in the Northern Realm are some dangerous, savage wasteland?” Harvey found it somewhat amusing, his expression teasing. “You’ve never been to the barren lands, so it’s normal for you to be unaware of how prosperous and wealthy it is now.”

He paused, then continued casually, “In fact, my territory’s tax and trade revenue this winter reached as much as one hundred thousand gold pounds. Ahem, if not for taking in a large number of war refugees from the south, which consumed a considerable amount of our grain reserves, the actual revenue would have likely been about thirty thousand pounds higher…”

The small nobles collectively gasped. “The winter… three months, one… one hundred thousand gold pounds?”

Most nobles, relying on land rent from their fiefs and the head tax from their residents, earned at most a few hundred gold pounds a year. Those with a sharper mind for business might be able to double that by managing family enterprises, but that always came with greater risks. The accumulated wealth of many small noble families over several generations couldn’t even match a fraction of the annual revenue of Harvey’s domain.

Some also astutely picked up on Harvey’s words: “taking in refugees from the south, which consumed a considerable amount of reserves, about thirty thousand gold pounds”—the idea that a lord would voluntarily take money out of his own pocket to aid refugees, whose lives were as insignificant as weeds, was an utterly unheard-of wonder.

One noble, his head spinning from the mention of so many gold pounds, cautiously edged closer to Harvey and said sycophantically, “My Lord, besides collecting taxes and rents, what kind of industry could possibly earn such an astronomical fortune?”

Harvey glanced around at the nobles, each with a look of longing on their face, and chuckled.

“You want to know? It’s simple… give up your status and titles as enfeoffed nobles, follow the new system I have established, and you will naturally be able to get your own piece of this enormous cake.”

Chapter 404: The Deliberation on Founding a City

After setting off from Fengyuan City aboard the ironclad ship, Harvey temporarily severed his deep connection with the soul puppet.

He immediately summoned Astaren and Rainer, who were already waiting in the castle, to begin an urgent discussion on the important matter of founding a city in the Northern Realm.

“Fengyuan City is now within our sphere of control. The entire northern part of the Duchy of St. Valen will finally be free of any obstacles hindering our development…”

Harvey walked enthusiastically to the map on the wall, picked up a thick charcoal pencil, and drew a circle around the pioneer territories, Grizzly Bear Territory, and Fengyuan Territory, connecting them into a single, complete map of the northern region.

“You should remember the city-founding plan I mentioned before. When the time comes, the vast lands between the pioneer territories, Grizzly Keep, and Fengyuan City will be united into a single entity, governed by the same laws and policies… and we will revoke all the nobles’ rights of enfeoffment and land ownership.”

Astaren asked doubtfully, “My lord, most nobles don’t have family businesses to manage. If we simply take their land and their right to collect rent and taxes, they’ll likely be pushed to the brink of bankruptcy. Wouldn’t that incite them to rebel…?”

“I don’t intend to just seize it by trickery or force.” Harvey cut off his chief advisor’s worries. “On the contrary, I will acquire the land from them through purchase. Under the new laws and systems of the territory, I will be the one to provide for their impoverished people. I will be the one to form a professional army to protect their assets and wealth. As long as they follow my rules, the profits they earn will far exceed what they made before. Naturally, they won’t have a single thought of rebellion.”

Since the tunnel through Raven Ridge opened, a trip from the pioneer territories to Jackdaw Town on the other side of the mountain took only half a day. Even traveling to the more distant Grizzly Keep only took a single day. And that was just by riding a horse-drawn carriage or a human-powered bicycle. If replaced by the more advanced railway trains in the future, the travel time could likely be shortened several times over.

As for Fengyuan City and Three-Forks Town, which were further south, it might not be possible to lay down railway tracks in the short term. However, the sailless, magical-powered ships that plied the Ralph River could completely make up for the distance with a journey of at most two days.

Building roads is the first step to prosperity—a practical truth of development, no matter the world.

Rainer, ever the pragmatist, immediately pulled out the Municipal Director’s ledger. “With all due respect, my lord… with the current fiscal surplus of the pioneer territories, it’s simply not realistic to buy all the land from the nobles. We don’t have that much money. Wantonly printing more gold yuan banknotes will cause prices in the territory to skyrocket, and the private currency you issued will rapidly devalue. That would lead to huge problems.”

Harvey smiled faintly. Well-prepared, he took a stack of documents from his desk drawer and pushed it in front of his two loyal subordinates. “Who said I was going to use real gold and silver to buy their land?”

Astaren quickly snatched up the documents. The soul fire in his eyes focused, and he finished reading them in less than half a minute. Yet, his tone conveyed a confusion rarely seen in an alchemical lifeform. “Sto… stocks? What is this? Is this… a new type of currency you plan to issue?”

“You can think of it as… a tradable right to a share of an industry’s profits.” Harvey gave a simple explanation of the issuance and operation of what was his simplified version of stocks. “In short, it’s a type of marketable security. Owning it is equivalent to owning the right to receive dividends from the operating profits of a certain industry.”

But it was limited to dividends… Harvey had no intention of letting the management and operational control of these industries fall into anyone else’s hands.

After surrendering their rights of enfeoffment and land ownership, the nobles would only need to use their experience and judgment to choose from the various rapidly developing manufacturing industry projects Harvey provided them. By purchasing an equivalent value of stocks and holding onto them, they could continuously reap the profits from dividends, which was not much different from sitting at home counting money.

The Food Factory, the steel mill, the shipyards, the Perfume and Soap Factory, the textile mills—any manufacturing industry related to the people’s livelihood… even the railway and inland shipping industries currently under intense preparation would issue a corresponding number of stocks.

Without spending a single gold pound, Harvey could use these territory industries that laid golden eggs to acquire land and population from the nobles, while simultaneously dissolving the rights of enfeoffment and class status they possessed since ancient times.

It could be described as a top-tier “overt scheme” that wouldn’t shed a single drop of blood.

“After the city is formally established, the City Hall of the pioneer territories will be directly converted into the Central City Hall. The municipal administration departments of the other cities will fall under the direct jurisdiction of the central authority. Similarly… the territory’s Police Department and other subordinate departments will need to be copied and implemented wholesale in the other cities.”

Harvey threw this difficult task directly at his two subordinates. “So, your main job from now on is to quickly expand recruitment and build up a reserve of administrative talent. Select them from public schools, promote them from various departments… no matter the method, you must set up the framework for the municipal administration departments in Three-Forks Town and Fengyuan City as quickly as possible.”

Maintaining the administration and daily operations of a city and its surrounding areas required a massive workforce. In this ignorant age where the literacy rate was less than one percent, the literacy education and public schools Harvey had established in a single pioneer territory were simply not enough to fill such a large talent gap.

Bringing in the nobles, who had already received a “traditional elite education,” was unavoidable. Many of them were heirs cultivated by their respective families and were naturally not entirely unfamiliar with management. As long as they went through a “brainwashing-style” re-education, outstanding progressives would surely emerge.

Just like the small group of young nobles he had met in Fengyuan City, such as Ross Ralph, who were relatively upright in their conduct but had very active minds. They were typical examples of suitable candidates. He had no objection to cultivating people like them to join the Municipal Administration Department and manage a city or its surrounding towns and villages on his behalf.

…

After laying out the administrative matters for the vast new territory’s future, Harvey picked up his hot tea and took a few sips, patiently waiting for Astaren and Rainer to recover from their shock and slowly digest his torrent of instructions.

Although these two were his oldest and most loyal core followers, one was originally a clockmaker of humble birth, and the other hailed from a distant ancient era with a way of thinking even more a step behind than the present. It was still somewhat difficult for them to completely grasp and understand Harvey’s modern mindset.

Fortunately, they were pure alchemical lifeforms who had undergone soul transformation. Bolstered by their innate gift of absolute rationality, their logical thinking and efficiency far surpassed those of ordinary people, which could, to the greatest extent, compensate for their temporary ideological lag.

After all, if he had let Pierce and the others handle it, the most likely result Harvey would have gotten would be a swift and total purge—the group of loyal military hardliners would have swept through the territory like a tornado, wiping out all the noble forces and physically eliminating the entire noble class. They might even have staged an other-worldly version of a “yellow robe” incident, directly forcing Harvey onto the throne to become an upgraded and enhanced version of the Grand Duke of St. Valen.

Chapter: Taking a Day Off!

Taking a day off!

I’m on a business trip at the beginning of the month, so I’m taking a day off as usual…

Chapter 405: Proactive Exploration

Pioneer territories, Magic Science Research Institute.

In the first-floor lounge, Xilisi and Councilor Proulx sat with a few of their colleagues from the institute, sipping high-quality black tea “imported” from the south and chatting in a relaxed manner.

This particular black tea was a luxury good supplied exclusively to Harvey’s pioneer territories by the Faros Royal Merchant Guild, whose fleets traveled north up the Ralph River after Three-Forks Town officially came under the Lord’s jurisdiction. It was expensive even in Faros, but here in the pioneer territories, it sold for as much as eighty gold yuan per pound—a price most ordinary residents could never afford.

Elder Xilisi carefully held his cup, his eyes narrowed as he blew away the fragrant steam swirling at the rim. He took a slow sip, a sweet aroma filling his mouth. The tea flowed into his stomach like a warm current, making him let out a sigh of contentment.

He glanced at Clan Head Arturo, who was sitting on the other side of the sofa. Arturo’s body was wrapped in ink-black robes, leaving only his terrifying, metallic-skull-like head exposed. A thin energy conduit hung from the ceiling, connected securely to a charging port at his waist.

“The Speaker used to be quite fond of tea, didn’t he…” Councilor Proulx sighed.

The soul fire in Arturo’s eye sockets flared brightly. He chuckled. “Worldly pleasures and desires only hinder our pursuit of the truth… Heh, the research groups you two are leading have fallen far behind mine.”

He raised a hand, and a palm-sized miniature Wolf Spider Beast rustled out from under his robes. It scurried over to a nearby bookshelf and retrieved a tome for him. “You’re still hesitating, unwilling to undergo the soul transfer as I have. You’re simply wasting precious time.”

Proulx and Xilisi exchanged a look and smiled wryly. “Speaker, think about the days when we were discriminated against, constantly hiding and fleeing. Who could have imagined we’d ever live a life like this… Can’t you let us old bones enjoy a few good days?”

Even Lord Harvey couldn’t fully uncover the truth behind why the advancement path for the Necromancer school of casting was blocked, nor could he find a viable solution. As “pseudo” high-rank casters who had only recently changed their research direction, the three of them were even more helpless.

Having finally arrived in the Northern Realm and settled down in this new home, completely free from discrimination and persecution, and with such excellent research facilities and living conditions, many older Necromancers had turned their attention to nurturing the next generation, aiming to accumulate and develop new strength for their school of casting.

“My Lord has already approved our plan to secretly send people to the south to recruit and shelter unaffiliated Necromancers. As long as they are of upstanding character and have the right attitude, they can join the Academy of Sciences after an assessment and observation period…” At this, Proulx’s tone grew wistful. “I suppose we old bones will be the last batch of Necromancers in this new home to have suffered through hardship and discrimination.”

“Gentlemen, enjoying your tea and reminiscing about old hardships and savoring the present?”

A teasing voice came from the doorway. It was Duncan, who had just returned to the Academy of Sciences from the Lord’s Castle. Behind him were his two students, the Eye of Illusion and the Astrologer.

The three Necromancers rose and placed a hand over their chests, greeting them with the standard etiquette of ancient wizards. Thanks to Lord Harvey’s fair and impartial attitude, the traditional casters under his command showed no contempt or disgust for Necromancers. They all coexisted as rare equals, and their daily interactions were quite harmonious.

“Lord Duncan, what brings you to the Academy today?” Arturo asked, somewhat surprised. These three high-rank casters were clearly of the battle mage variety. Although they each nominally led a research group, in reality, they had little interest in spending their years cooped up in a laboratory.

Duncan was very direct. He held up three fingers and said, “Dean Arturo, I am about to lead a small squad of Spellcasters on an expedition deep into the barren lands. For this, I need to ask you for three of your best Necromancers to join my expedition team.”

Xilisi was startled and quickly asked, “My Lord… plans to take the initiative? To investigate the enemy situation deep in the barren lands… in the mysterious continental heartland?”

Duncan nodded and answered frankly, “That’s right. It’s a mission I volunteered for. Rather than wait for our doom in constant fear, waiting for those legendary, terrifying non-humans to come south, it’s better to strike out and determine their origin and details!”

“But that would mean crossing the Icefields, which are teeming with vile orc tribes, and parts of the barren lands ruled by Demons…” Xilisi hadn’t expected this high-rank Illusionist to be so bold as to actively request such a difficult mission from the Lord.

Duncan nodded with a grave expression. “That’s why, when it came to selecting team members, the Lord had me come personally to seek your opinions. Of course… I will also ask the potential candidates if they are willing to join. I will not force anyone.”

“My Lord took in our group of Necromancers, who were oppressed and discriminated against everywhere. He provided us with an Academy where we can conduct our research freely, and even pointed us toward a brand-new direction for our school’s development,” Arturo said gravely. “The Necromancers have no reason to refuse to serve our Lord. Besides, this is a matter concerning the continuation and survival of our entire people.”

Proulx said worriedly, “But just to reach Mr. Astaren’s former home… the legendary Kingdom of Eternal Night, one would have to travel thousands of miles. To go even deeper into the frozen lands further north… who knows how much time it would take, or how many hardships one would have to endure to get there.”

The Eye of Illusion, who had been holding back for a while, finally couldn’t resist. He cut in before his teacher could explain, boasting with an excited expression, “Lord Harvey has secretly developed a magical creation that can only be described as miraculous! It can allow ordinary mortals to fly freely in the sky just like high-rank casters, looking down on the earth like a bird!”

A fanatical glint appeared in his eyes, and he grew more excited as he spoke. “No, not just fly! It can stay in the sky for a long time… It can move with the wind. I heard that during the first test, it took only a few hours to fly secretly from outside the territory to the Eastern Basin!”

“It lets mortals fly?” Arturo shot to his feet, the soul fire in his eyes flaring. “And it can move freely? In just a few hours… it can reach the Eastern Basin hundreds of miles away?”

Xilisi quickly chimed in, “A flying artifact? By the spirits of the dead! Is it a legendary flying artifact?”

Whether created by a Spellcaster or an Alchemist, a magic artifact requires a spell matrix to be inscribed within it. To use it, one must draw upon their own mana, gathered through meditation, to activate and control the artifact. This is why a low-rank caster can rarely wield a high-rank artifact; fundamentally, the strength of their own mana doesn’t match what the artifact requires.

Most high-rank casters, on the other hand, have already learned flight spells, so they have no need for a flying artifact. At most, they might use some amplifying artifacts to increase their flight speed or reduce the immense mana consumption of the flight spell.

“What flying artifact?” the Astrologer, who was usually quiet, couldn’t help but speak up. She clearly didn’t understand its operating principle either. “It’s just a giant, soft sphere. But our Lord… used some unknown method to make it fly into the sky with ease…”

Chapter 406: Hot Air Balloon Test Flight

In the back garden of the Lord’s Castle, something lay covered by a waterproof tarp. This was the magical creation the Eye of Illusion had spoken of—the one that could let mortals fly—and also the “giant soft ball” Ms. Astrologer had described.

“It’s still in the experimental stage, which is why we haven’t made it public…” Harvey said with a helpless expression, gesturing with an open hand. “There was no need for you all to be in such a hurry. It wouldn’t have been too late to come see it after the finished product was made.”

“It’s just that Mr. Eye of Illusion and the others truly piqued our curiosity,” Dean Arturo said, his tone a little awkward. “My Lord, please forgive our rashness and impoliteness. We just wanted to see this incredible, miraculous creation as soon as possible.”

“‘Miraculous’ is pushing it. It’s just a hot air balloon,” Harvey said, raising a hand to have his personal guard pull off the tarp, revealing a messy pile of enormous beast hides.

“Er… why is it a pile of hides? Weren’t we told it was a strange, soft ball?” Xilisi and Proulx walked a circle around the pile of hides, their faces full of doubt.

“This is what it looks like when it’s not inflated. Just wait a moment, and I’ll have the personal guard get it ready.”

Harvey signaled to Tommy, the Captain of the personal guard, with his eyes. The captain, looking excited, immediately led a few warriors forward and began to work on the pile of hides.

During the very first test flight, Harvey had let Tommy and the others risk a ride. Of course, he had also brought Duncan along to act as emergency personnel in case of an emergency landing. If an accident were to happen in the air, he could at least transform into a giant flying griffin to protect the test subjects and ensure a safe landing.

To soar through the sky like a bird was an eternal dream for intelligent races like humans, who could only live on the ground. From hot air balloons to airships, from airplanes to spacecraft, Harvey had witnessed in his past life the immense sacrifices humanity had made in its exploration and challenges to achieve flight, finally realizing their wish.

And while Spellcasters existed in this world of magic, flight was still a privilege reserved for a very small number of high-rank transcendent beings. Even they, who stood at the pinnacle of transcendent power, could not claim to have conquered the skies. The mana consumed by casting a flight spell far exceeded that of any other type of spell. Even an Illusionist like Duncan, who could transform into a bird at will, had to precisely calculate his mana consumption during the spell to avoid accidentally falling from the sky.

The principle of the hot air balloon, however, was very simple, and the materials and techniques required to build one weren’t too difficult. They just needed to solve the problem of a continuous fuel source for the gas and find a suitable material for the envelope.

Without a chemical industry to provide high-pressure gas storage containers, using a magical energy device as a burner to heat the air and provide a constant supply of thermal energy to the balloon was a near-perfect substitute for the modern technology of filling high-pressure cylinders with hydrogen.

The envelope material was a relatively simpler matter. A species of gregarious demonic beast native to the Northern Barren Lands—a subspecies of the demonic beasts ridden by the Demons—miraculously grew two layers of hide. The outer layer was as hard as armor, while the inner layer was supple and light. Coated with rubber fruit sap, it could be made into a perfectly sealed envelope that was not only highly waterproof and airtight, but so tough that even a sharp knife would have trouble cutting through it.

The personal guards brought a huge wicker basket out of a nearby shed and deftly connected it to the coated beast hide with several thick, long ropes. Then, they retrieved a simple-looking metal cylinder, poured in a test-tube-sized amount of liquid magical energy from the top, and pulled the starting lever on its side. Before long, the top of the cylinder began to spew out steaming hot air.

The guard operating it immediately held open the bottom of the beast hide envelope, aligning it with the cylinder’s air outlet. They all then watched as the envelope slowly billowed up, looking just as Ms. Astrologer had described—a giant, floppy, round ball.

To ensure it could carry at least three people at once, Harvey, Chris, Benoit, and the other Alchemists had experimented several times before finally settling on a standard size of six meters in diameter at its widest point. Just sewing this enormous beast hide envelope had used up the inner hides of twenty demonic beasts. Coupled with the repeated spraying and drying of the rubber fruit coating, it had taken more than half a month to create the slightly crude-looking flying vehicle before them.

“Without a Spellcaster personally channeling mana… this, this alchemy cylinder that’s spewing hot air is all it takes to make this big soft ball fly?” The three Necromancers from the Academy of Sciences exchanged glances, then asked Harvey with a mix of shock and doubt.

Harvey sighed and hesitated for a moment before explaining, “That’s right. Hot air rises, cold air sinks… It’s a very common natural phenomenon. As research-type Spellcasters… we should have observed this simple, common-sense principle that governs the workings of all things long ago.”

Arturo’s tone was somewhat dazed as he murmured, “Natural phenomenon… simple common sense… governs the workings of all things. Shouldn’t research-type Spellcasters constantly observe the generation and rules of mana? Why would we need to understand hot and cold air?”

Harvey shook his head helplessly and said no more. Introducing these self-proclaimed transcendent Spellcasters to the enlightening knowledge of modern science would be a long and arduous road… It would be better to start with the children, subtly changing the public’s mindset through universal basic education.

And so, amidst the bewildered expressions of the high-level casters, the beast hide envelope finally inflated completely and began to float slowly upward. The tether ropes, which had been attached beforehand, gradually grew taut. Four or five soldiers rushed forward to pull on them, preventing the balloon from flying off on its own and carrying the huge wicker basket into the sky.

“Whoa! It… it’s really flying!”

Harvey made an inviting gesture with his hand and smiled. “This semi-finished hot air balloon can only carry a maximum of three people. Dean Arturo’s alchemical body is too heavy, so I wouldn’t recommend you try it. The rest of you can take turns.”

Before he had even finished speaking, Elder Xilisi and Councilor Pular scrambled inside. Both were classic research-type Spellcasters, and since they hadn’t successfully inscribed flight spells into the magical runes in their bodies, they were the most eager to experience the sensation of flying.

Next, the Eye of Illusion vaulted into the basket, smiling. “Although I know a flight spell, I’d still like to try this method that doesn’t consume my own mana. I can also protect my two Mage colleagues if necessary.”

With a slight lurch, the personal guards holding the tether ropes released their grip. The hot air balloon, with the large basket suspended below, slowly left the ground. It gradually climbed higher, soon passing the towering spires of the Lord’s Castle.

The people on the ground craned their necks and squinted, still able to clearly see the three people in the basket leaning over the edge to look down, their expressions a mixture of excitement and thrill.

“Damn it!” Harvey slapped his forehead. “I forgot to teach the three of them how to control the alchemical heating device! Mr. Duncan…”

Duncan nodded resignedly. A loud grating sound came from his metal prosthetic limbs rubbing against bone and flesh as he quickly transformed into a massive flying griffin. He soared into the air, chasing after the hot air balloon, which was drifting ever higher.

Chapter 407: The Central Station

At the crack of dawn, a series of loud knocks echoed on Balun’s apartment door. He shot up and tumbled out of bed, instinctively reaching for the coat hanging on the rack by his bed.

His hand was halfway there when he suddenly remembered—starting today, he no longer needed to report to the People’s Theater for rehearsals.

Two weeks ago, Balun had officially resigned from his position as the lead actor of the theater troupe. Now, lying by his bed were two work dispatch documents of the same material—one was an approval for his transfer from the Minister of Culture, Mr. Ash Lambert; the other was a new post order issued by the territory’s Central City Hall.

The exterior walls of the three-story apartment building were built sturdy and thick, keeping the most bone-chilling cold air of late winter completely outside. Thick copper pipes, half-embedded in the walls, continuously spread warmth throughout the entire room.

For about half the year, the weather in the barren lands was anything but warm. To have a house like this, which didn’t leak or let in drafts, was a hard-won luxury for most local residents accustomed to hardship—except… it was a little small. It was just big enough for a bachelor of the barren lands like Balun to live in alone, and he would even feel embarrassed to invite friends over, like Miss Natalie Mills, for instance.

Balun groggily opened the door to find his new colleague, Ross, whom he had just met a few days ago, standing outside. Ross had introduced himself as being from Fengyuan City in the south, a place that had supposedly just been brought under the Lord’s jurisdiction. Balun was surprised residents were already migrating from there so soon.

“Hey! Ross.” Balun stepped aside to let his guest in, but noticed the man remained frozen at the doorway. “Come in and talk, it’s too cold outside.”

Ross, with his gaunt face and lanky frame, frowned. “Why are you only just getting up? Grab your luggage and come with me to the Central Station. You didn’t forget to pack last night, did you?”

Balun turned and pointed to the leather suitcase that was already packed and sitting by the door. “I packed a long time ago,” he said, confused. “According to the orders… aren’t we supposed to leave in the afternoon?”

Ross rolled his eyes. Bending down to pick up his half-orc colleague’s heavy suitcase, he urged impatiently, “Get dressed, quick! Don’t forget your identification papers and work documents! Haven’t you heard? The Central Station is completely swamped. If we’re late, we might not even be able to squeeze onto the train!”

Balun snapped back to his senses. He returned to his bedroom, put on a thick coat, and neatly folded his various documents and papers into an inner pocket. He and Ross then hurried on foot toward the territory’s east gate, where the newly built Central Station was located.

By the time the two of them finally arrived at the east gate after a full half-hour walk, they found it was indeed a scene of a surging, crowded sea of people. A large number of heavily clothed residents had gathered near the city wall, shuffling their feet as they passed through the gate and headed out of the territory.

“This… so many people?” Balun was dumbfounded. “I remember the recruitment for the Eastern Expansion clearly stated it was only for two thousand official local residents.”

Ross sighed and pointed to the many people who were empty-handed, without any luggage. “It’s the train,” he guessed. “They’re here to see the legendary Magical-Powered Train, supposedly built by the Lord himself, that can run at high speed on rails.”

Balun looked at the fully brightened sky and finally understood why Ross had pressed him to come to the Central Station early. Just queuing and squeezing through the crowd would probably take them several hours.

…

The Central Station, built all along the edge of the territory’s city wall, covered a very large area. Two crisscrossing tracks ran straight through the massive station, extending out in the four cardinal directions. However, only the tracks to the east and south were clearly completed; their sides were cordoned off with simple fences of dense wooden stakes and ropes to prevent people from accidentally wandering onto them.

Opposite the main entrance of the Central Station, a dozen or so connected booths had been built, bearing conspicuous signs for ticketing and inspection. But since the line was not yet officially open, the booths were clearly not staffed.

As noon approached, Ross and Balun, both drenched in sweat, finally made their way near the ticketing booths. Just as Balun was about to pull his work transfer documents from his coat, he turned his head and spotted a huge sign on one side of the vast station hall.

“Pioneer Territories Eastern Expansion Plan… Boarding Registration for Recruited Personnel.” While Balun was still squinting to make out the words, Ross recognized the sign’s content in a split second and grabbed Balun, pulling him in that direction.

Many other residents carrying large pieces of luggage like them were also waiting in line under the sign. After a staff member, whose uniform clearly marked him as from the City Hall, carefully verified their identification papers and work documents, he led them toward the platform.

The Magical-Powered Train, resting quietly on the long tracks, immediately stunned the group of travelers who were about to board it for their long journey to the Eastern Basin. In addition to the massive locomotive, which was filled with the aesthetic of heavy machinery, it was pulling ten enormous carriages. They shared the same mechanical chassis and metal framework wrapped in sheet iron, while their tops were tightly covered with canvas tarps, forming a completely enclosed carriage.

“Ross, we’re not the first residents to ride this new contraption, are we?” Balun asked, looking at the huge, dark metal train on the platform. No matter how he looked at it, it seemed like a string of War Beast vehicles.

The City Hall staff member leading them explained with a smile, “There are two scheduled trains to the Eastern Basin. One already departed before you arrived, carrying nearly five hundred people!”

As soon as he finished speaking, two people jumped down from the locomotive up ahead and waved quickly at the group, who stood frozen in place. “Stop dawdling, it’s about time! Get this batch on board!”

Balun and Ross clutched their luggage tightly. After a careful search, they found the carriage marked with the number seven, which matched their tickets, and cautiously boarded the train with the flow of people.

“There are even seats!” Balun said in pleasant surprise. Although they were just simple wooden benches fixed inside the carriage, at least they didn’t have to sit on the cold iron floor. The windows on both sides were also covered by canvas tarps, so it wouldn’t feel too cold as long as they weren’t actively lifted.

Before long, three loud whistles blared from the locomotive in the distance. The carriage then began to vibrate gently and rhythmically, and the clattering sound of wheels against the tracks rose from beneath their feet. Everyone sitting in the carriage immediately felt their bodies start to sway.

The train was moving!

People eagerly lifted the canvas tarps on their windows to look outside, only to find that the entire scene was slowly retreating, its speed increasing by the second… The train had left the Central Station.

When the residents spectating outside the station saw the train pull out, they burst into loud cheers, waving their hands to bid farewell to the passengers.

Balun also leaned against the window, waving vigorously for a while. Only after the train had clattered far into the distance did he sit back down, not quite ready for the moment to end.

“I wonder how long it will take us to reach the Eastern Basin…”

Ross carefully took out his work documents to check. “The papers say we’ll arrive at our destination tomorrow at noon,” he replied. “But there’s one stop on the way. We’ll probably spend the night there…”

Balun then remembered and asked curiously, “Ross, you’ve only been in the territory for less than a month. How did you get official residency? And why did you volunteer for the eastern pioneering effort?”

Ross shot him a look and didn’t answer.

When the Lord had brought him from Fengyuan City to the barren lands, he had already given him the answer he sought.

“Do you want to know why my territory is so prosperous and wealthy? Pioneer and progress with my people, and you will experience the changes and differences firsthand…”

Chapter 408: Grain and Assessment

The long winter, lasting nearly five months, was finally over. When the warm sunlight once again appeared over the lands of the Northern Barren Lands, it was already March of the new year.

The urgent task of spring planting immediately fell before Harvey and the territory’s City Hall.

Throughout the past winter, they had been fighting everywhere, continuously taking in refugees displaced by war and famine from the south. The consumption of grain and supplies reached what could only be described as an astonishing figure.

Due to the rapid population growth and the one-way flow of resources—all expenditure and no income—Harvey’s Pioneer Territory’s grain reserves were critically low for the first time ever. Harvey secretly felt fortunate that when he had annexed the Grizzly Bear Territory last year, he had handed over the magically enhanced grain seeds cultivated in his territory to the Agriculture Department. They had enforced their widespread planting throughout the southern Grizzly Bear Territory and managed to harvest a crop of winter wheat before the deep winter set in, which had temporarily alleviated some of the crisis brought on by the food shortage.

The next most important step, naturally, was to distribute the similarly magically enhanced crop seeds in two batches—they needed to be fully rolled out in both Fengyuan City to the south and the Eastern Basin of the barren lands.

Thus, on the same day the Magical-Powered Train carried the residents of the Pioneer Territory to the Eastern Basin, Harvey convened an agricultural mobilization conference for the territory.

Not only the Pioneer Territory’s Agriculture Department, but the entire newly restructured and upgraded Central City Hall—including the Grizzly Bear Territory’s second-level municipal department and the early-arriving municipal administration from Fengyuan City—all relevant high-ranking officials were summoned by him to the Lord’s Castle.

Looking at the major and minor officials filling the long tables below the dais, Harvey felt that even the Royal Court’s noble council of Grand Duke St. Valen was probably of a similar scale and formality.

In terms of the area he occupied, the size of the duchy’s land he now controlled… seemed to be fast approaching a third of the entire St. Valen Duchy. He just didn’t know what His Majesty the Grand Duke, who was currently at the duchy’s border fighting the Da’ers wizard kingdom, thought of him—this Mage Lord who had, without anyone knowing, taken over his home base.

Setting aside his scattered thoughts, Harvey glanced around the hall and lightly tapped the wooden armrest of his chair.

The sound wasn’t very loud, but the crowd, which had been murmuring in their own small groups, immediately fell silent, their gazes turning in unison to their lord.

Harvey pointed to the work documents placed before everyone and said with a light smile, “You must all be wondering why the spring planting, which proceeds methodically year after year, has been labeled a ‘mobilization,’ and why I’ve summoned everyone for a meeting to discuss it.”

Indeed, a lord needed to “mobilize” for foreign campaigns, as his vassal nobles and enfeoffed knights were scattered throughout the territory, and summoning them took time. Likewise, provisions, horses, and conscripted laborers also required “mobilization”—apart from the lord’s own reserves of grain and weapons, squeezing out every last grain of wheat and every coin of a temporary tax from the pockets of the residents also took some time and effort.

No one had ever heard of needing to “mobilize” for farming. To fill their bellies and feed their families, most residents would proactively cultivate their fields and produce grain without any need for a noble to urge them on.

“I believe many of you are well aware that I am not some hereditary noble or royal vassal. When I first acquired this Pioneer Territory, it was simply through a Pioneer’s Decree I bought with money from the previous Earl Fegan…” Harvey explained without the slightest bit of concern. “And the reason the Pioneer Territory has been able to develop to this day is simply because when I was first recruiting refugees from the barren lands, I made a promise… as long as they worked hard and diligently for me, they would never have to go a day with an empty stomach.”

Ensuring his subjects had enough to eat, warm clothes to wear, and comfortable shelter from the elements… this was the sole means by which Harvey maintained the legitimacy of his rule, unlike other nobles who relied on granting noble ranks and conquest by force.

“For the past three years, we have basically achieved this, and the Pioneer Territory has expanded from a small town in the barren lands beyond the kingdom’s border to an administrative area covering nearly a third of the duchy…” Harvey paused, his tone growing serious. “But right now, our grain production can’t keep up with our population growth! If we don’t take this seriously, once the people go from having full meals to empty stomachs, our internal situation will immediately descend into turmoil!”

He gestured for the attending officials to open the work documents in front of them and explained in a grave voice, “Therefore, I demand that everyone, from this moment on, treat agricultural development and grain cultivation as the top priority. You are to complete this year’s spring planting tasks meticulously, according to the work charter before you!”

“Furthermore, starting this year, the agricultural development and grain output of all municipal departments in the territory will be subject to a special assessment. Cultivated area, number of farmers, and land yield will all become part of my assessment of your performance. This will also be a crucial standard for measuring your eligibility to serve as managers of lower-level municipal departments.”

The new Earl Fegan’s heart skipped a beat. He immediately lowered his head and began to quickly flip through the work document. Not long ago, the Grizzly Bear Territory had just announced a policy where the lord would use so-called “dividend stocks” from his various manufacturing industries to exchange for land ownership from the minor noble landowners.

Under the threat of the lord’s formidable military power, all the minor nobles had voluntarily handed over the land in their names. Thus, all land in the Grizzly Bear Territory was reclaimed as “public property” by the City Hall. This heavy burden had fallen directly onto the shoulders of Earl Fegan, who had just been promoted to Steward of the Grizzly Bear Territory’s City Hall. How could he not be sweating with nervousness?

The meaning behind the lord’s words was very clear—from now on, a noble title would be merely an honorary one here. If someone failed to meet his standards, even one holding the rank of Earl… would be denied the governing authority over a city.

Although no one in the hall spoke, all silently bowing their heads to read the documents, it was clear from their body language and expressions that everyone had grown tense.

This was precisely the effect Harvey wanted to achieve. A noble title, being a mere honorific, could be inherited, but the officials who held administrative positions in the territory absolutely could not have lifelong or hereditary appointments. Only with competitive assessments could the vitality and progressiveness of the governing body be guaranteed.

And it all began with the assessment of grain production.

“I haven’t set the assessment target for the first year too high, which should give you time to adapt and adjust…” Harvey waited patiently for everyone to reach the end of the document before adding, “For grain production alone, I require you to reach the numbers indicated in this document!”

A collective gasp swept through the conference hall.

“One hundred thousand bushels? Forty percent wheat, sixty percent barley and other grain crops…”

Harvey was not the least bit surprised by their reaction. After all, based on the normal grain production levels of this era, a large city of ten thousand people like Grizzly Bear Territory would have an annual harvest of around ten thousand bushels. The more fertile Fengyuan City could probably reach fifteen thousand. As for the Pioneer Territory, which had basically achieved full “mechanized farming with alchemical beasts,” its total harvest last year had reached a terrifying thirty-five thousand bushels. It even had a surplus of old grain from the year before to use as feed for livestock, which at the time was considered a shockingly “bountiful harvest.”

Of course, the actual harvests in the areas outside the original Pioneer Territory were inextricably linked to the amount of land and the number of farmers. Trying to reach the target set by Harvey by relying solely on the primitive manual and animal labor of the past was truly a pipe dream.

“You need not worry. The agricultural alchemical beasts and the improved magically enhanced wheat seeds have long been prepared.” Harvey stood up and clapped his hands, first having Rainer’s Central City Hall take the lead and set an example. “The Central City Hall will take on half of the one hundred thousand bushel grain production target directly. Therefore, Fengyuan City and the Grizzly Bear Territory… only need to achieve harvest targets of thirty thousand and twenty thousand, respectively.”

As long as they could get off to a good start with grain cultivation this year, Harvey believed that as the technology of mechanized planting spread throughout the territory, agricultural production, which had previously required a large population to sustain, would free up a significant labor force. The fewer people needed for farming, the more workers the territory’s future factories could absorb.

Chapter 409: Setting an Example

After the grand Eastern Expansion was officially launched, the restructured Central Administrative Hall, at Harvey’s request, formally promulgated the newly amended territorial laws to all residents.

The team of territorial administrative directors, led by Rainer and Astaren, immediately conducted a series of “retrospective” evaluations across the three areas under Harvey’s rule: the pioneer territories, the Grizzly Bear Territory, and Fengyuan City. They assessed officials’ past performance, anonymous satisfaction ratings from the populace, and the annual financial revenue of the areas they managed… Through a series of hard metrics, it was easy to distinguish who was suited for management and who had no potential for development.

To Harvey’s surprise, the more educated minor nobles performed significantly worse in administration and economic development than the commoner officials promoted earlier in the territory’s history. After one round of assessments, nearly half of the minor nobles were excluded, directly labeled as unqualified for territorial administrative duties.

“Logically speaking, I’ve already given these minor nobles every chance to get on the last train of the territory’s development…” Harvey said helplessly to Earl Fegan, who had come to him with his grievances. “Since their abilities don’t meet the requirements, they naturally have to be eliminated… But at least they won’t have to worry about their livelihood. The dividend-paying shares they received in exchange for their land are more than enough to let them live as comfortable, wealthy gentlemen under my rule, as long as they behave themselves.”

Earl Fegan could certainly relate. As the largest feudal lord in the border region, the Fegan family had not fallen into decline and ruin after completely submitting to Harvey. On the contrary, after losing their enfeoffment rights and military forces, not only did the earl himself receive the position of Municipal Director of Grizzly Keep from Harvey, but his family also established two jointly-operated, assembly-line textile mills with Harvey’s support. The revenue from a single quarter surpassed the entire previous year’s land tax collections, a fact so joyful it almost made them wake up laughing in their sleep.

This last train, laden with wealth and power, was one the Fegan family had boarded with great difficulty… As for the minor nobles who were eliminated, Earl Fegan was merely putting on a show, putting in a good word for them in front of Harvey and nothing more.

“My lord, about the railway development plan for Grizzly Bear Territory…” Earl Fegan asked cautiously. After all, this was the real reason he had sought an audience with Harvey.

Harvey narrowed his eyes, instantly seeing through the earl’s intentions. He chuckled. “What’s the hurry? The train’s trial runs have only just begun. Next quarter, the railway company will be formally established… All of you will have the opportunity to participate, exchanging early investment for dividend-paying shares. This is an investment that will yield immense returns. You’d be better off going home and figuring out how to raise more money.”

These were the exact words Earl Fegan had been waiting for. This was the benefit of being close to the source. The definite news, revealed by the Lord himself, would allow his family to act and react twice as fast as others in their commercial investments.

After a delighted Earl Fegan left, Astaren, who had been standing silently by his side, couldn’t help but ask, “My lord, why grant the Fegan family so many advantages? You’ve already put Grizzly Keep under their management. Isn’t that enough to ensure their wholehearted fealty?”

Harvey rubbed his fingers together and said teasingly, “If I need to set an 【example】… isn’t the Fegan family the most suitable choice?”

Indeed. From their initial armed conflict with Harvey… which cost them dearly with the death of an earl and nearly brought about the family’s instant collapse, they had chosen pragmatism and completely submitted to Harvey. What followed could be considered a revival. Not only did they preserve their hereditary title and the real power to manage a city, but their family’s wealth and industries were flourishing day by day, making other nobles burn with envy.

The price of resistance was total annihilation, while the benefits of submission were countless. Anyone with a brain would not choose the former.

The Fegan family’s elite knightly order was gone… but Lord Harvey’s far more powerful Northern Army would directly protect their wealth and industries, and they didn’t have to spend a single coin to support this terrifyingly effective professional army. No matter how one looked at it, they had gotten an incredible bargain.

The Fegan family’s fief, passed down for generations, was also gone… but they had traded fields that required recruiting vast numbers of serfs and tenants for back-breaking labor for shares in Lord Harvey’s manufacturing factories that ‘laid golden eggs.’ They didn’t have to worry about management, or even about sales channels for the goods. All they had to do was sit at home and collect money on schedule until their hands went numb from counting… Even if a future successor was a good-for-nothing with no business sense whatsoever, they wouldn’t have to worry about bankruptcy and decline.

At this thought, the name of a young noble suddenly popped into Harvey’s mind.

He turned his head to Astaren and asked curiously, “That Ross, the knight from the Ralph family… uh, the young man who voluntarily followed me from Fengyuan City to the Northern Realm, did he really volunteer to go to the Eastern Basin as a pioneer, with the status of a regular resident?”

“Are you referring to Knight Ross of the Frosthawk family?” Astaren paused for a moment, his tone tinged with disbelief. “Yes. He is indeed a young man whose thoughts and actions are quite… different. He left with the first pioneer team on a train to the east three days ago.”

Back in Fengyuan City, this young knight from the Ralph family had acted differently from the other nobles. His attitude toward Harvey was neither servile nor overbearing, and he had shown an unusual interest in Harvey’s descriptions of a new order and the popularization of magic for civilian use.

Harvey just hadn’t expected him to be so eager to go down to the “grassroots” level as soon as he arrived in the pioneer territories. His mindset and spirit truly impressed Harvey.

Astaren said in a strange tone, “Wasn’t it because of what you said… My lord, have you forgotten?”

Huh? Harvey was taken aback, looking at his chief advisor in confusion.

“You proposed… that the so-called knights of the new era should not be blindly loyal to a certain noble, nor should they collude with them to suck the blood of the people. Instead, they should understand that they must fight for the people and practice true fairness and justice.” Astaren repeated Harvey’s words verbatim. Although his tone was cold and stiff, Harvey felt a little embarrassed hearing them.

“That’s… something I said when I drank too much at the banquet in Fengyuan City, wasn’t it?” It sounded so cringey and idealistic. He hadn’t expected to actually fool those young noble knights with it.

“Of all the Spellcasters I have met, you are the most skilled at swaying people’s hearts with speeches…” Astaren commented objectively. “However, there was one last thing you said that night that I still don’t quite understand.”

Harvey covered his face and asked weakly, “What else did I say at the end?”

Just then, Pierce walked in from outside the study and picked up where his mentor left off, repeating, “You said… ‘Only after they’ve downed this bowl of chicken soup will they understand the true path of a knight’… My lord, I’ve also been wanting to ask, what exactly does chicken soup have to do with the path of a knight?”

Chapter 410: The Promulgation of the Laws

In fact, the young noble knights from the south weren’t the only ones who had been unintentionally fed Harvey’s “chicken soup.”

Of course, there was also a large group of passionate students from the Territorial Public Academy, who styled themselves as “progressives”…

After the territory’s new laws were announced, a massive notice board was erected in the square before the Central Administrative Hall. Beside it sat a thick, hardcover book with a concise title inlaid in gold thread: “Basic Law of the Northern Realm.” This was the territory’s law, personally drafted by Lord Harvey and meticulously compiled by the core departments of the Administrative Hall.

A week before its official public announcement, this law had been distributed to all levels of the administration, including the Advanced Education Department of the Territorial Public Academy. The purpose was to allow the territory’s current and future administrators to learn and study its contents in advance, so that it could be implemented smoothly later on.

The students of the public academy had the most enthusiastic response. They even spontaneously came to the City Hall Square where the laws were posted and took the initiative to explain the detailed contents of the laws to the public.

“Everyone!” Ivan cleared his throat. “I’m sure you’ve all heard the news that the Lord will soon be establishing a new city in the Northern Realm. This brand-new basic law is the universal regulation that will be implemented under the Lord’s governance after the city is built. I will now explain it to you all in detail. If you have any questions… you can ask me directly, or you can enter the Administrative Hall to seek answers from the officials.”

The City Hall officials standing by to maintain order looked on with resigned expressions, not expecting the task of proclaiming the laws to be snatched away by a group of students. Knowing the students meant well, they could only smile wryly, nod, and clap along.

“First, the general principles of the Basic Law of the Northern Realm. This section… every article, every word, was personally drafted by our respected Lord. It is completely different from the decadent old laws and traditional systems…”

“Article One: In all territories under the rule of Harvey Floyd, all supreme power belongs to the Lord himself.”

The moment Ivan finished speaking, a wave of enthusiastic cheers erupted from the crowd. “Long live Lord Harvey! We pledge fealty to the Lord!”

The students standing before the notice board wore expressions of shared pride. “Article Two: The Central City Hall under the Lord’s rule is the highest organ of power in the territory, and it shall handle all territorial affairs in accordance with the Lord’s directives.”

The content of this article was a bit difficult to understand. Many of the residents, who were still struggling through the evening Literacy School, wore blank and confused expressions.

Ivan quickly translated it into the simplest, most understandable terms. “It means that if any of you have any difficulties, you should go to the Administrative Hall. The Lord will instruct the Administrative Hall to act on our behalf!”

The crowd of onlookers immediately understood, and another deafening roar of applause and cheers followed.

“Article Three: Upon entering the territory, migrant populations may obtain official resident status through proper channels. Once they become official residents of the territory, they will no longer bear the lowly statuses of their past as slaves, serfs, tenant farmers, or servants. Regardless of their place of origin, race, background, or gender, all will be considered equal.”

This article was simple and easy to understand, but the public’s reaction was less enthusiastic than before. After all, it was already common for the local barren landers and half-orcs to band together and exclude the southerners, a habit that would be difficult to change overnight. However, with this law as a baseline, at least there would be no overt acts of egregious discrimination.

“Article Four: All residents are protected by the territory’s laws and are entitled to all safeguards and benefits. At the same time, they have the obligations to pay taxes, perform military service, and pledge fealty to the Lord.”

Though this article was short, every resident present felt its truth deep in their bones. They had traveled thousands of miles to the pioneer territory, and the Lord had indeed fulfilled his promise, providing housing and food for all the formerly displaced residents. At the same time, they enjoyed the benefits of free education and affordable healthcare. The territory’s taxes were almost always fixed annually, with no sudden exorbitant levies, and military service was entirely based on voluntary recruitment. The army’s high pay and benefits, along with its visibly low casualty rates, had even made becoming a soldier an incredibly sought-after and popular profession.

“Article Five: Nobles and Spellcasters are also residents of the territory. Their status does not grant them any special powers, and noble titles can only be inherited as honorary titles in accordance with the law.”

As soon as Ivan’s voice fell, a flurry of whispers broke out in the crowd. “Doesn’t this basically abolish the privileges of the nobility?”

“That’s right. I heard long ago that the Lord was going to abolish the nobles’ powers… Hmph, from now on, whether in the Northern Realm or in the Grizzly Bear Territory, we won’t have to bow and scrape to those arrogant noble lords who look down their noses at everyone.”

“The Spellcaster lords in the territory are actually quite nice. Like Dean Egnor of the infirmary. I, for one, am willing to respectfully call him Master Mage…”

“Dean Durt of the Spellcaster Academy is also very approachable. My kid was selected to join, so they’ll have a chance to become a Spellcaster in the future…”

The students waited patiently for the crowd’s discussion to die down before continuing to read the remaining articles.

“Article Six: The personal safety and legal property of all residents are protected by Lord Harvey Floyd, and they are sacred and inviolable.”

“Article Seven: The territory encourages its residents to engage in legal commercial operations and free trade, provided they pay taxes as required. No business activities may violate the territory’s laws or harm the territory’s interests.”

“Article Eight: All residents shall have the right to receive a free education, the right to freely engage in any work, and the right to freely choose their marriage partners, without obstruction or discrimination.”

…

Ivan spoke clearly and slowly, announcing each article one by one. He would occasionally pause, along with the other students, to explain the specific meaning and content of the articles to the onlookers, earning continuous nods of satisfied approval from the Administrative Hall officials watching from the sidelines.

In the past, laws established by nobles were rarely read aloud and explained publicly in front of the common people. The contents of those laws seldom pertained to commoners at all. Even free commoners, in the eyes of the nobility, were nothing more than objects to be exploited and conscripted. When conflicts arose between the two, nobles would often use knights and soldiers for violent suppression, without a shred of reasoning.

A lord like Harvey, who repeatedly mentioned the people under his rule in the laws he promulgated, was truly unprecedented.

And the residents, who had already genuinely enjoyed various benefits under Harvey’s rule even before the new laws were promulgated, believed in them without a doubt. The Lord to whom they had pledged their wholehearted fealty had not broken his word, nor had he deceived them with clever rhetoric… Sturdy and comfortable homes, delicious and filling food, and equal status for all—not only could they see and obtain these things in the present, but they were also filled with great expectations for a happy life in the future.

Suddenly, a somewhat abrupt voice rose from the crowd, which had been immersed in fierce discussion. Then, ignoring the attempts by the Administrative Hall officials to stop them, more and more people emotionally joined the discussion.

“Why don’t we just establish our own kingdom here in the Northern Realm? The Lord should be our king!”

“Yes! We have our own people’s army, our own City Hall… and a Lord who treats us with his whole heart. Why can’t we establish our own country?”

“The Lord should be our king, our emperor!”

Ivan and the other students present exchanged a look of tacit understanding, and the corners of their mouths curled up imperceptibly.

Their true purpose for being here… had finally been achieved.

Chapter 411: The New Southern Army

After lingering in Fengyuan City for nearly half a month, Commander Pierce finally led the Northern Army soldiers from the expedition back to their home in the barren lands.

After swiftly purging the remaining forces of the Ralph family, a temporary power vacuum emerged in Fengyuan City and its surrounding areas. Pierce could only wait for the City Hall officials dispatched from the Northern Realm while methodically carrying out the subsequent reckoning with the city’s nobles.

The gold pounds and grain plundered from the lands of the Ralph family and their vassal nobles were quite substantial. Consequently, before leaving, Harvey ordered the army to provide relief and compensation to the city’s residents. Most of the tenant farmers and freemen, who were unable to conduct their spring planting due to the war, received a ration sufficient to get them through the season.

Artisans and small merchants, who had been unable to carry on their production and business due to the situation, were also granted tax reductions in turn.

Facts also proved that distributing relief while publicizing the new policies was remarkably effective. The new lord not only enabled them to eat their fill for the time being but also promised not to collect a single cent of land rent or tax for the year. Such a grand policy of amnesty naturally won the unanimous support of the populace.

“My lord, the five hundred Northern Army soldiers stationed in Fengyuan City have already begun recruiting locals to form a new southern army…” Having just returned to the territory, Pierce wasted no time in reporting his recent work to Harvey.

Of the one thousand five hundred Northern Army soldiers who had set out on the expedition, only one thousand had returned for now. The remaining battalion of five hundred men was stationed in Fengyuan City, both to cooperate with the new City Hall in stabilizing the city and to begin recruiting a new army as per Harvey’s instructions.

The recruitment standards for the new army were set by Harvey personally. First, the nobility was excluded, with only commoners from freemen or tenant farmer backgrounds allowed to join. The numbers were also not to be excessive… The plan was to recruit a full thousand men to form two new army battalions.

“The enlistment benefits for the new army cannot be the same as the Northern Army’s. Besides room and board… their stipend and welfare will be distributed at half the Northern Army’s standard.”

Pierce nodded in understanding. He knew Harvey’s reluctance wasn’t about refusing to treat everyone equally; rather, it was because the Northern Army had been forged through hardship since the pioneer territories’ founding days and had earned their preferential treatment through life-or-death battles. If this group of southerners, whom they already looked down upon, were to receive equal benefits upon enlistment, it would likely cause dissatisfaction among most of the lower and mid-ranking soldiers.

“The Police Department has also dispatched some police officials over there. It would be good to select some of the applicants who don’t meet the enlistment criteria but have clean backgrounds to join Fengyuan City’s police force…”

After all, Fengyuan City was currently in a state of ruin, waiting to be rebuilt. The vacuum in the political system could not last too long. If an administrative body wasn’t quickly established to firmly control the city’s situation and extend his authority down to the grassroots level, then the noble houses, currently lying low, would quickly resurface, and the decadent, old class order would make a comeback.

This was a result Harvey was absolutely unwilling to accept.

…

“My lord, there is one thing I don’t quite understand…” Pierce hesitated for a long time before he couldn’t help but ask, “Why are you expanding the army and recruiting in the pioneer territories, Grizzly Keep, and Fengyuan City simultaneously, yet going to such great lengths to rotate the garrisons between the three locations?”

According to Pierce’s simple way of thinking, having soldiers garrison their home regions to defend their homeland was a natural advantage, both in terms of morale and familiarity with the local area. Yet Harvey did the exact opposite, dispatching soldiers from the three regions to be garrisoned elsewhere, which left him completely baffled.

“As the commander-in-chief of the army, you still haven’t figured out the reasoning behind this after all this time?”

Harvey held back a laugh as he watched Pierce’s face flush red. He paused for a moment before explaining seriously, “You should be well aware of the situation since the Northern Army’s founding, where soldiers naturally form cliques based on their origins, right?”

Pierce was taken aback for a moment, then answered honestly, “I am indeed aware… but it’s unavoidable. Whether it’s barren landers and southerners, or half-orcs and humans, as long as there’s no trouble on the surface, it’s impossible to completely prevent it in private.”

“Correct. No matter how disciplined they are in battle, how strictly they follow orders and fight bravely, in private, they will subconsciously trust their own kin and fellow countrymen more.” Harvey gave a slight chuckle. “As our territory’s influence expands, recruitment and expansion in various places will only increase, and the backgrounds of the soldiers will become more and more complex…”

He gave a casual example. “Soldiers from Fengyuan City, soldiers from Grizzly Bear Territory, soldiers from the barren lands… even soldiers from Three-Forks Town. If countless factions and groups appear in your army, I don’t need to tell you what the consequences will be, do I?”

Upon hearing this, Pierce felt sweat bead on his back and was momentarily speechless.

Only then did he fully understand the true intention behind Harvey’s measures—to prevent local soldiers from forming cliques and disrupting army order. By completely breaking up and reassigning soldiers from different places to garrisons in foreign territories, he could better forge the army into a monolithic block, where soldiers no longer distinguished each other by their origins.

“Recruit one thousand soldiers in Fengyuan City, one thousand in Grizzly Bear Territory… and the main base in the pioneer territories will expand by two thousand men.”

Harvey stood up and patted Pierce’s shoulder, consoling him, “The task of expanding the army, recruiting, and training new recruits is very heavy, but you cannot relax in the slightest… Before autumn arrives this year, I want to see a fully-manned army of ten thousand under the territory’s command, all of them well-trained regular soldiers ready to march into battle at any time.”

…

Just over a year ago, Harvey would never have dared to dream of commanding a massive army of ten thousand. Not only was he short on weapons, ammunition, and equipment, but simply feeding and supporting these professional soldiers, who were completely non-productive, would have been a struggle.

Now, the rapidly developing and increasingly prosperous pioneer territories gave him ample confidence. Setting aside the twenty to thirty thousand people in Grizzly Bear Territory and Fengyuan City, the population of the pioneer territories alone had swelled to fifty thousand.

Moreover, nearly half the population had received a basic literacy education. While this would still be an extremely low literacy rate in a later era, it was nothing short of a miracle in this ignorant and dark age. They could read and write simply, possessed basic work knowledge, could understand the many laws and policies issued by City Hall… and had even developed a nascent sense of “homeland” and “ownership.”

The improvement in the populace’s cultural level provided Harvey with a more than sufficient pool of fresh blood. His administrative bodies could also recruit enough personnel to push forward the new policies and technological reforms Harvey envisioned.

Compared to the ignorant masses who appeared docile and submissive, these new people living under his rule were capable of an unimaginable degree of initiative. As Harvey’s power expanded, these people would spread like embers, until they ignited a prairie fire.

Chapter 412: Eastern Expansion

That evening, Balun was in his dormitory, carefully looking through a literacy manual, when a knock suddenly sounded on his door.

“Please come in… uh, Mr. Ross.” The half-orc looked puzzled. “What brings you here? Have you had dinner yet?”

Ross squeezed sideways into the room, stomped his feet a bit awkwardly, and complained in a low voice, “I didn’t expect the Eastern Basin to be even colder than the pioneer territories. Spring has started, but the snow still hasn’t melted…”

Balun quickly moved the brazier from beside his desk over to him, laughing. “The Eastern Expansion base can’t compare to the territory. We don’t have heating to enjoy. If it weren’t for the thick blankets they gave us, we probably wouldn’t be able to sleep from the cold at night.”

“Heating… that comes from those copper pipes half-buried in the walls, right?” Ross casually took off his damp boots and warmed his frozen feet by the brazier.

Balun stared blankly for a moment, then said helplessly, “Just how long have you been in the Northern Realm? You haven’t even figured out what heating is.”

Ross waved his hand and said casually, “About a week… Anyway, there are new things I’ve never seen everywhere. It seems like no one really understands them, but everyone is very used to the existence of these strange contraptions.”

His eyes fell on the literacy book on Balun’s desk, and he smirked. “The Lord actually requires all residents to learn to read and write. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes… I would have thought it was a pipe dream.”

Balun blushed and quickly changed the subject. “You’ve never been willing to say why you’d give up the good life in the territory to come out east and join the pioneers… With your skills, you’d probably even be qualified to teach at the territory’s public schools.”

Back when the City Hall was recruiting, Balun could tell at a glance that Ross wasn’t a local barren lander from a poor background like himself. Whether it was his disposition, speech, or bearing, he was much better off than the refugees from the south he had seen. Yet, a person like this had taken the initiative to befriend and talk to him, and they had applied for the pioneer work in the Eastern Basin together.

“Teach? I’m a knight. I only know how to swing a sword… How would I know how to teach?” Ross had followed the Lord’s advice, wanting to find a true native of the barren lands to get deep among the so-called “common folk” and see with his own eyes how this vast and prosperous city in the wastes had developed step by step to what it was today.

He hadn’t expected this honest half-orc to actually treat him like a close friend, which made him feel a little guilty about deceiving him.

“I came from Fengyuan City… you’ve probably heard of it, right?” Ross’s voice was a little low. “It’s funny, when you think about it. Back in the south, the only place I’d see a half-orc like you was in a slave trader’s market… But here in the barren lands, a local like you is a free man with a bright future, while I… am just a member of a ruined house, defeated and captured in war.”

Balun’s eyes widened. “You’re really a knight?”

He stood up and circled Ross twice. “A noble knight? The kind captured by my lord Harvey and then pardoned?”

Ross rolled his eyes, speechless. “Would I lie to you? Of course, I no longer have my knighthood or title. Just like you… I’m a construction worker at the Eastern Expansion base.”

These words didn’t earn him the teasing he expected from the half-orc. Instead, Balun’s expression became serious, and he gave Ross a thumbs-up. “Mr. Ross, I think you’re nothing like those greedy, foolish nobles from the rumors. You’re an upright man.”

He squinted, thinking for a moment, as if wracking his brain for more words of praise, but his vocabulary wouldn’t allow it.

“How should I put it… Minister Kenny of the Agriculture Department used to be a knight, too. He even fought against our army personally. Now isn’t he also serving the Lord, and he even got promoted quickly.” The half-orc smacked his lips and remarked, “It’s just as my lord Harvey says… Wealth and a future are earned through the hard work of your own two hands, not by plundering and exploiting others.”

Ross grunted in acknowledgment and pressed, “So… you truly believe that my lord Harvey will lead you all to a life of unprecedented comfort and prosperity?”

Balun said in surprise, “Of course! Everyone has enough to eat and warm clothes to wear, a decent job with a good salary, and a warm, comfortable place to live… I doubt your former lord could do that, right?”

Duke Ralph… while he wasn’t exactly a tyrannical lord, he had never truly cared for the people under his rule. To him, they were just cheap labor, heads to be taxed, and a future source of recruits for his army.

But this Lord Harvey, even in the general principles of the laws he promulgated, every single rule and ordinance, every line of text, repeatedly mentioned and focused on the people under his rule.

“My lord Harvey… is indeed a very different kind of lord.”

…

Early the next morning, the Eastern Expansion base, built next to the train stop, was bustling with activity again.

Another batch of new pioneers, carrying their luggage with curious expressions, disembarked from the train. Guided by officials from the pioneering department, they moved in an orderly fashion into the temporary dormitories built on the base. This residential area, large enough to accommodate over two thousand people, had been rushed to completion last year before winter set in by workers from the territory’s Construction Department, who braved the wind, snow, and severe cold.

In the Lord’s own words, for the residents willing to dedicate themselves to the cause of pioneering for the territory and work diligently at the Eastern Expansion base, the City Hall was obligated to provide for all their basic needs—food, clothing, shelter, and transportation—and must absolutely not let them suffer needlessly so far from home.

Balun and Ross had signed up as construction workers. This was one of the few jobs in the territory that didn’t require high academic qualifications and could be done without training. Balun had worked in this role before, so he was naturally in his element and could even help the somewhat inexperienced Ross.

“These newly tilled fields have only just been sown… and they’re already building such a large area of warehouses. Isn’t that a bit hasty?” Ross followed Balun’s instructions, his movements clumsy as he repeated the tasks of spreading mortar and laying bricks.

Balun’s movements were much more practiced. While skillfully spreading the mortar, he explained with a chuckle, “Not hasty at all. After the spring wheat is planted, it can be harvested in the summer… Then we’ll plant winter wheat and harvest it again before the snow falls…”

Ross froze for a moment, as if he couldn’t process it. “What? Two wheat harvests a year? What nonsense are you spouting?”

Although Ross’s family was a branch of the Ralph family, they weren’t high nobles completely removed from production. He knew a thing or two about farming—at least enough to know that in the bitter-cold climate north of the Spine of the Continent Mountains, it was simply impossible to have two wheat harvests a year.

“If we used the old farming methods, of course we couldn’t get two harvests… Heh, forget two, even one would be difficult.” Balun rubbed his hands together, pulled a crude cigarette from his coat, and stuck it in his mouth. “Before I came to the pioneer territories, my half-orc tribe lived among human refugees. Most of the time, we’d toil all year long, only for a sudden, early snowfall to wipe out the entire wheat crop right before harvest. In the end, we could only survive the winter by digging up cassava roots to fill our stomachs, gnawing on tree bark, and drinking melted snow.”

A shadow passed over Ross’s eyes. He changed the subject, asking, “Then how does the Lord manage to get a stable, bountiful harvest of wheat in the barren lands?”

“It’s the magic of the Spellcaster masters!” Balun said with a laugh, exhaling a puff of smoke. “Don’t forget, the Lord himself is a powerful Spellcaster. The other Spellcaster masters under him each have their own strengths. Dean Egnor founded the infirmary and can even cure the Frost Plague and Bloodworm Disease for us. Mr. Chris built the Alchemy Laboratory. Those alchemical beasts you see everywhere, both in the territory and here, doing the heavy labor for us—he’s the one who made them.”

He paused, then looked at Ross’s stunned expression with a grin. “They also imbued the wheat seeds with mana, making them no longer fear the cold, arid weather. They’re even immune to the common crop pests in the barren lands. Once you plant the wheat in the ground, it grows faster than the hair on your head day by day.”

Ross opened his mouth but found he didn’t know what to say.

Spellcasters—people who were prouder and more aloof than even the nobles… would they really deign to turn their attention to ordinary people, to help commoners secure food, warmth, and a livelihood?

Chapter 413: Named for a Spark

As the newly enacted general principles of the law were announced and publicized throughout the territory, the vast majority of the populace responded with enthusiasm. The lord had fulfilled every promise he had made to them since the beginning of his pioneering efforts, so they had every reason to believe that a more prosperous and peaceful future awaited them under his leadership.

The news that the pioneer territories would soon be formally established as a city spread rapidly among the people, igniting their passion even further. In just half a month, not only did the number of people enlisting in the army multiply, but even the recruitment efforts for the newly opened factories saw their effectiveness double.

However, the articles in the new laws banning the sale of people and completely abolishing the system of serfdom proved to be a difficult problem for Rainer, the Chief Administrator of the pioneer territories… who had personally participated in drafting the laws.

“My lord, I’m afraid I was shortsighted on this matter,” Rainer said, proactively seeking out Harvey to admit his mistake. “The officials and secret police dispatched by the Administrative Hall to the south of the Duchy have been in close contact with local human traffickers. Right now, most of the war refugees we’re receiving from Three-Forks Town are being resold from the hands of slave traders…”

Harvey paused for a moment, only then recalling that he, too, had personally inquired about and purchased a large number of refugees displaced by the war in the central south from Andrew, a major mine owner who secretly dabbled in the gray market of the slave trade.

If one were to be strict about it, the passenger ships that continuously arrived at Three-Forks Town from the lower reaches of the Ralph River would, upon entering Harvey’s territory, be in technical violation of the land’s highest laws.

“We can only handle this as a special case,” Harvey said with a wry smile. He summoned an attendant and quickly wrote out a directive. This was the first time the lord had exercised his “right of exemption” and “right of special passage” since the new laws were promulgated.

As for the reforms regarding nobles ceding their land, they did not provoke much opposition or protest. These minor nobles had never enjoyed many benefits from their enfeoffed lands in the past. Most nobles who were not core followers of a major lord had their fiefdoms assigned to remote areas with barren soil and sparse populations. Some even had fewer than ten households under their jurisdiction, so naturally, they cared little for losing nominal ownership of their fiefs.

“I hear that the father of the Shepherd Knight who oversees the livestock division in the Agriculture Department… Mr. Anbiki Kenny—that is, Baron Kenny of Mill Town—was among the most eager nobles to hand over his land,” Rainer said, offering a prime example to report the significant effects of the land policy to Harvey.

“Oh? You mean that stingy baron who couldn’t even bear to pay the ransom for his own defeated son?” Harvey couldn’t help but laugh out loud. He asked quizzically, “What made him change his mind?”

“Director Anbiki brought him to the pioneer territories and had him fitted with an alchemical prosthetic at Egnor’s infirmary. The old baron can finally mount his beloved warhorse again after so many years and gallop freely across the barren lands to hunt.”

Many other minor nobles like him were also planning to sell their land to the Central Administrative Hall as soon as possible. They even gathered privately, eagerly inquiring and discussing which industry’s dividend stocks would yield greater returns from Harvey.

“The nobles with vast fiefdoms and substantial wealth… have all unanimously focused their attention on your new Railway Company,” Rainer disclosed, sharing some gossip from among the nobility to indirectly prove that the secret police had not relaxed their surveillance on them.

Harvey took a sip of hot tea and chuckled softly. “It seems there are some farsighted individuals among the nobles after all. Who said they only care about immediate gains…”

Compared to the people’s spontaneous support, the nobility seemed to have been completely subdued by Harvey’s military might. On the surface, it appeared they were forced to follow him and could turn into fence-sitters at a moment’s notice should the situation change.

But only the vassal nobles who had tasted the first wave of benefits knew just how substantial and handsome the rewards and wealth gained from loyally following this Mage Lord, who had risen so suddenly from the barren lands, could be.

Under Harvey’s deliberate guidance and acceptance, many nobles from the Grizzly Bear Territory who had initially been hostile to him had made multiple visits to the pioneer territories. They personally witnessed and experienced many novelties they had never even heard of before: residences that were warm and comfortable even in the dead of winter, hot water plumbing that provided a constant stream of hot water at the turn of a knob, magic stone lamps that stayed lit all night, and an Industrial Park that never seemed to rest for a moment…

They also saw residents with ruddy complexions and decent clothing, smiles always on their faces; clean and tidy cement roads; streets free of vile gangs, beggars, and streetwalkers… Even the shops and houses were neatly planned and uniformly constructed. The markets were always bustling with crowds, even on snowy days. Everyone had extra money in their pockets for spending beyond food. Even the banks, which had once served only nobles and wealthy merchants, often had long lines of people waiting to make deposits on payday.

…

After lunch, Astaren, Pierce, and Harvey’s other core followers arrived one after another at the Lord’s Castle, gathering in his study.

In just over a month, after a series of major undertakings including military expansion, the promulgation of laws, and the launch of the Eastern Expansion, it was time for them to discuss the final agenda item—deciding on a name for the new city to be built on the barren lands.

The atmosphere of discussion immediately grew lively, as everyone had an ideal name they had long held in their hearts.

Some officials who were Spellcasters hoped the new city’s name would clearly reflect that it was a great city built by a Mage Lord, with the hope that it might one day surpass the City of Magic, Araye, and become the City of Truth on the barren lands.

The military loyalists who had followed Harvey from the very beginning wanted the city to be named after their lord, to highlight the greatness of Harvey as its first city lord and to formally declare his revered titles of “King of the Frontier” and “Conqueror of the Northern Realm” to the south.

There were also some neutral officials who argued that since the lord’s ordained laws prioritized the people, the city’s name should naturally incorporate corresponding elements. This would also greatly inspire a sense of belonging and honor among the populace.

After several rounds of fierce debate, Harvey, whose head was buzzing, decided to have everyone write down the name they thought most suitable. They would all be laid out on the table for everyone present to evaluate and compare, with the final decision to be made by a unanimous vote.

It wasn’t until the sun was about to set that the new city’s name and its representative flag and sigil were finally settled.

After Harvey cast the deciding vote, the pioneer territories were ultimately named 【Starfire City】.

The city sigil and flag emblem were designed with the silhouette of the Lord’s Castle as the background. Below it were two crossed silver magic energy lances, and at the bottom, three golden five-pointed stars were arranged in a row.

The castle silhouette naturally symbolized Lord Harvey Floyd. The crossed silver lances represented the army’s steadfast fealty to the lord. The three golden five-pointed stars represented the Central Administrative Hall, the Military Command, and the Academy of Sciences, respectively.

Chapter 414: Founding Day

After the busy spring planting season, the end of April soon arrived, bringing with it truly warm weather. It was also the designated Founding Day for the pioneer territory.

Harvey rose unusually early. After bathing in the castle’s bathroom, which had been fitted with a heated pool, he had an attendant meticulously trim his slightly grown-out beard. Most independent Spellcasters, especially the research-type, were extremely self-disciplined in their lifestyles, comparable to the Church’s ascetic monks, who follow strict doctrines and abstain entirely from female company.

Even though he was about to advance from a pioneer lord to the master of a city with a vast fiefdom, Harvey still maintained the simple way of life he was accustomed to. He required almost no one to attend to his daily needs, and female attendants were a rare sight in the castle.

It was precisely for this reason that neither his core followers, who had endured hardships with him from the very beginning, nor the officials with real power who later joined his ranks, ever considered the thought of covertly or overtly placing people by his side, mindful of his status as a Spellcaster. Even the nobles, who were most keen on forging power alliances through marriage, did not dare to make such a vulgar request to his face, knowing it would be a potential offense to a Spellcaster.

After a simple grooming, Harvey began to examine the sets of formal attire his personal guard had brought. The one sent by the Federation of Casters was still black with silver trim. Apart from some additional gold embroidery on the collar and cuffs to signify his rank as a high-level caster, it wasn’t much different from the dark mage robes he usually wore.

To attend such an important founding ceremony in attire that so clearly bore the Federation’s style would inevitably send a certain message to his many officials and the various guests who had come to observe. Harvey had no intention of sparking any groundless speculation—behind the city he had built with his own hands, there would be no other, larger organization standing. It would belong solely to Harvey himself, growing strong through its own capabilities.

Another City Lord’s outfit was a joint gift from the nobles of Grizzly Bear Territory. Although Harvey didn’t know much about nobility, he could tell at a glance that it was basically an “upgraded version” of the ceremonial robes the Pope used to consecrate a Grand Duke. They might as well have sent a pure gold scepter and a jeweled crown along with it. Still, these nobles had some sense; they had at least removed the religious symbols representing the Church from the robes, avoiding a disastrous case of flattery backfiring.

The final set of attire was completely different in style. It abandoned the cumbersome and ornate designs of traditional ceremonial wear, instead opting for a simple, modified version of the gentleman’s suits popular among nobles and wealthy merchants. It featured a gray-and-black double-breasted jacket over a pure white shirt, with impeccably tailored trousers of the same color. The dark gold embroidery on the cuffs was clearly hand-stitched, and the craftsmanship looked exquisite.

Tommy, the Captain of the personal guard, leaned in and added in a low voice, “This suit was sent by the textile mills. It was custom-tailored for you by local craftsmen and embroiderers. The materials and craftsmanship might not be as fine as the other two…”

Harvey’s eyes narrowed, a look of satisfaction on his face. “No, I’ll take this one.”

Today, he would become the Lord of Starfire City, dressed in clothes made for him by the hands of his own people.

…

After changing, Harvey made his way to the castle hall, where Rainer, Astaren, and other high-ranking officials were already waiting.

“My Lord.” Seeing him arrive, everyone bowed in greeting. “The officials from Grizzly Bear Territory, Fengyuan City, and the other territories arrived in the Northern Realm yesterday. They are currently waiting for an audience with you at the Central Administrative Hall.”

“Mm, let them wait a little longer… How are the arrangements in the square outside?”

“The setup was completed yesterday afternoon, but there are just so many residents… and they’re so enthusiastic. Even though we sealed off all the roads in the Castle District ahead of time, many of them still arrived at the town square last night to wait for the ceremony to begin.”

Even though the town square in front of the Lord’s Castle had been expanded and renovated several times, it was still impossible for it to accommodate the tens of thousands of people attending. The Defense Force could only block the main roads leading to the Castle District in advance to prevent the dangerous situation of trampling that could result from overcrowding.

Aside from the several thousand residents willing to wait in the square overnight, the rest who couldn’t enter the Castle District could only gather spontaneously in relatively spacious areas like the City Hall Square, the Sports Field, and the marketplace.

“Well done. The Defense Force and the Police Department will certainly have their work cut out for them today…” Harvey said with a note of praise, then led the group up to the observation balcony on the castle’s third floor.

In the distance, the Spine of the Continent Mountains and Raven Ridge had already taken on a deep, ink-like green. A faint trace of white snow could still be seen on the sunlit peaks.

The town square directly below the castle was already teeming with people. Although the Lord’s Castle was built on slightly higher ground, many sharp-eyed residents still spotted Harvey’s figure on the balcony. They stood on their tiptoes, waving and cheering ceaselessly for their lord.

Harvey couldn’t help but smile, waving back in response.

“My lord, it’s almost time…” Rainer, without needing to check a clock, could precisely anticipate the start of the ceremony and began to urge Harvey right on schedule.

“Let’s go,” Harvey said with a smile.

…

Seeing their lord appear and ascend the high platform built in the center of the town square, the surrounding crowd immediately ceased their noisy chatter and conversations. All eyes turned to the platform with fervent gazes, and a unified, resounding cheer erupted, washing over the entire square in waves of sound.

“Good morning, my people!”

Harvey’s opening words, magnified by an alchemical amplifier, echoed directly over the entire square. An official from the Administrative Hall, with the help of a Spellcaster, quickly activated a Recording Stone to capture this historic moment.

“More than three years ago, I came here with a Pioneer’s Decree that I bought with money… and now, on this land that was once desolate and uninhabited, a true city is about to be established.”

“I know that many of you were once refugees struggling to survive in the barren lands. Some of you fled here from the south, unable to bear the oppression of the nobles… and others were forced to migrate here due to war, plague, and famine.”

Harvey paused, his gaze sweeping over the sea of faces below the platform, and continued in a deep voice: “No matter where you were born or where you came from… you have all now firmly put down roots here and have a new home of your own. The vile orcs, the Demons, the Church, the nobles… none of them can drive us away from here, nor can they even think of seizing the wealth we have earned through our hard work.”

The old residents who had lived through the vile orc invasion, the crusade launched by the Church and the nobles, and the scourge of Demons in the surrounding areas felt a deep sense of shared experience. They raised their fists, their eyes red, and responded to Harvey, “This is our new home, and we will never let any enemy take it from us!”

Harvey raised a hand to quiet them and continued, “The tragedies you have suffered in the past will not be repeated, so long as we always stand united and keep the greedy and vicious enemies outside our home… A new life will surely be yours!”

“As the supreme ruler of this city about to be founded, I hereby promise you—my people—that City Lord Harvey Floyd will never forsake those who follow him, and will never again place you in dire straits. I, my army, my officials… and the Spellcasters under my command, will forever watch over and protect every single person in this city.”

He straightened his posture slightly, then raised his right hand as if taking an oath. “From this day forward, the pioneer territory is officially founded as a city. It shall have a new name—Starfire City!”

“Starfire City! Long live!”

“Long live! Long live! Long live the Lord… the City Lord!”

The crowd gathered in the square erupted. The deafening cheers soared into the sky. Harvey’s speech was simultaneously broadcast via alchemical amplifiers to all areas where residents had gathered. For a moment, almost the entire territory was submerged in an ocean of celebration.

At that moment, the Defense Force and the Northern Army stationed on the city walls fired their magical energy cannons, loaded with blanks. The roar of several hundred ceremonial rounds echoed over the city, and even the mountains seemed to tremble, sending back rolling echoes.

Chapter 415: Stock Issuance

After the city’s official establishment, Harvey allowed himself only a single day’s break before he began to consider the new year’s development plans.

Ever since he had clearly and distinctly witnessed the memory fragments of the ancient era from that activated Magic Core, he no longer focused all his attention on the southern continent, a whole Spine of the Continent Mountains away.

The war of faith between the Church and the Federation, the battle for survival between humans and Demons… none of it compared to the powerful non-human race from the legendary “continental heartland,” the terrifying enemy referred to as “He” in the Magic Core’s memory fragments.

Compared to foreseeable opponents, an unknown crisis was always more terrifying…

Originally, Harvey had merely planned to use his strange transmigrator identity and intellect to flexibly navigate the conflicts between Spellcasters, the Church, and the nobles. He intended to hide away in the barren lands, far from the southern vortex of power, adhering to the moderate development path of “I won’t bother anyone who doesn’t bother me.”

But after learning the truth of ancient history, his small, secluded “private plot” in the barren lands had suddenly become the front line of an invasion by an unknown race. How could this not leave him drenched in a cold sweat, unable to sleep at night?

Beset by both long-term and immediate worries, he could not afford to slacken in the slightest. He could only start with the most important matters at hand. It was far better to prepare for a rainy day than to sharpen one’s spear at the last minute.

The first matter was naturally to mediate the war within the Duchy of St. Valen. Regardless of the true purpose behind the war initiated by the Grand Duke of St. Valen and the Church, as long as Harvey applied pressure from the rear, they would eventually find themselves caught in a pincer attack, forced to turn around and deal with this thorn in their back.

This way, the Federation and the wizard kingdom could shift their focus and fully commit to the long-term conflict with the Demons. The Federation had reportedly already pushed the front line in the Evil Moon Mountain Range to the north of the mountains. If they could successfully cut off the supplies to the Demons’ forward command, they might be able to halt the demonic offensive for a long time—after all, if the non-human races truly launched a massive invasion, the Demons, whose power base was west of the Northern Realm, could serve as a major force resisting “Their” southward advance. Perhaps the brief alliance between the two races during the Dragon War could even be recreated.

The best outcome would be to directly oust the Grand Duke of St. Valen. Whether Harvey then took his place or propped up a puppet to handle public opinion, both were good options. As long as the central nations of the south did not erupt into a large-scale civil war that embroiled the common populace, the human race’s demographic potential wouldn’t be depleted. Then, when a crisis of survival for the entire race arrived, there would be hope for resistance and counterattack.

The second matter was to accelerate the development of Starfire City as quickly as possible, to get this future wartime “bridgehead” under his rule on the right track.

After all, in terms of territory, the combined lands of all the duchy lords in the south probably couldn’t compare to the potential for expansion Harvey had. The entire Northern Realm, aside from the western territories controlled by the Demons, was essentially a vast expanse of ownerless land from the center to the east. Only primitive tribal groups like the vile orcs, who lacked even a state government, were sparsely distributed there. Wiping them out and driving them away was merely a matter of time.

What he truly lacked were the people to develop and build on these lands.

Regarding the situation in the south, Harvey had discussed it with his officials many times. They finally decided to launch an offensive in late summer. That time would be close to the autumn harvest. The professional Northern Army would naturally be unaffected, but the feudal lords of the Duchy of St. Valen were a different story. The enfeoffed knights and vassal noble landowners under their rule would be firmly tied to their farmlands. No one would be willing to abandon the impending harvest to take up arms for war. After all, starving residents might flee to avoid taxes, or even rise up in rebellion.

If Harvey’s army launched a sudden attack on the capital, Goldshine City, at that time, it would likely catch the Church and the Grand Duke completely off guard. It would also be an opportunity to show them that a “modernized” war, powered by magically enhanced firearms, was not comparable to the border skirmishes they had with the Federation.

Currently, the magical munitions factory, the alchemical machinery plant, and the shipyards were all operating around the clock. Workers on a three-shift system were fervently producing vast quantities of war reserves. Logistics factories, such as the pharmaceutical factory and the canned food factory, were also operating at full capacity. Countless logistics supplies, durable and easy to transport, were continuously delivered to a sprawling area of massive warehouses.

The Military Command’s recruitment drive had been more successful than Harvey had anticipated. The combat-experienced Northern Army had expanded by a full ten battalions, an increase of nearly five thousand men, and was now undergoing intensive practical training. The Defense Force would reorganize by mixing new recruits with veterans before summer arrived, after which they would be dispatched to garrison Fengyuan City and various locations throughout Grizzly Bear Territory.

Therefore, the recent focus of his work still needed to be on the development of Starfire City, which brought him back to the issue that had been a headache from the very beginning: attracting population…

He summoned Chief Administrator Rainer to his lord’s office.

“Regarding the stocks to be issued in exchange for the land surrendered by the nobles… have you compiled a list of the industries?”

Rainer pulled out the work manual he never went anywhere without. “My lord, it was compiled and organized long ago. Excluding military industries and basic agriculture… the mines, logging forests, the Shipping Company, the Railway Company, and all civilian manufacturing plants are on this list.”

Harvey took it and quickly skimmed through, nodding in satisfaction. “Excellent. For the civilian manufacturing industries, allocate ten percent of the shares based on output and profit scale. Split them into tens of thousands of individual shares for the nobles who surrender their land to purchase… But for the Shipping and Railway Companies, we can only offer five percent. Moreover, they will be issued as founder’s stock, which cannot be traded or mortgaged at will. If they want to cash out in the future, they can only sell the shares back to me for the original price.”

Monetizing the manufacturing industry was a radical move, ahead of its time. If he weren’t short on cash to purchase the land from the nobles, Harvey wouldn’t have dared to open this door. Once shares became tradable, the nobles who had a head start in investing would rush in, snatching up more profits before the commoners could. Harvey’s goal of narrowing the wealth gap and alleviating class tensions would then be all for naught.

“The stock issuance period will only be one month. For those who are hesitant or plan to hoard their land to drive up the price, I won’t wait for them.”

Rainer hesitated for a moment before asking in a low voice, “Actually… the Administrative Hall, the Military Command, and some colleagues who joined the territory early on and hold managerial positions in factories and other production departments have been quietly discussing this. They’re complaining that they’ve been shut out of buying dividend stocks because they don’t have noble status…”

Harvey nodded in understanding. He had, in fact, anticipated this situation. These officials and soldiers, originally of commoner birth, had achieved wealth and a higher social standing purely through their own efforts. Strictly speaking, they constituted a special, emerging class of nobles. They held real power, enjoyed high salaries and benefits, and had lived in the territory the longest, naturally accumulating more wealth than the average resident.

Though their salaries and benefits were generous, they represented a slow, gradual growth. All industries in the territory belonged exclusively to the lord himself, and most of them lacked business acumen. Aside from using their money to improve their quality of life, this new “nobility” had few other channels to rapidly accumulate wealth for themselves.

“Those nobles who haven’t obtained official residency in Starfire City are not permitted to purchase property within the city…” Even Earl Fegan himself, who managed Grizzly Keep for Harvey, had wanted to buy a villa in Starfire City but had been unable to, despite calling in many favors.

This policy would be steadfastly enforced for the foreseeable future. In time, when Starfire City grew more prosperous and flourishing, these locals who had followed Harvey from the beginning would understand just how priceless their properties were.

Being a real estate mogul was far more comfortable than being a shareholder. Playing the stock market could bankrupt you in a heartbeat.

Chapter 416: The Airship

Duncan and Harvey stood side by side at the South Slope Base’s testing ground, gazing up at the enormous, spindle-shaped contraption before them. “My lord,” Duncan marveled softly, “is this… the new flying vehicle you mentioned?”

“Yes. It allows ordinary people and mid-to-low-level casters to fly without relying on mana or flight spells.”

Having personally experienced a hot-air balloon ascent before, the Eye of Illusion circled the new vehicle with great interest. “It’s not that inflatable sphere from before?” he asked, puzzled. “I thought you would build an even bigger, rounder… hot-air balloon that could carry more people.”

In truth, Harvey had only provided the schematics and principles; the actual construction was handled by Chris and Benoit from the Alchemy Laboratory. Just then, the two alchemists, who were completing the final component calibrations and checks, emerged from the passenger gondola beneath the flying vehicle and began to enthusiastically explain the new vehicle’s details.

The flying vehicle, which Harvey had named the “airship,” appeared as a massive spindle, sharp at the front and elliptical at the rear. Inside, however, the spindle was composed of six interconnected gasbags. This design ensured that even if one or two gasbags were accidentally damaged during a long flight, it wouldn’t result in a crash, but at most, a reduction in speed.

Beneath the spindle-shaped gas chamber, a semi-enclosed passenger gondola was suspended by iron chains and steel bars. The front of the gondola featured a glass window for observation, while the rear was equipped with a propulsion device and rudder, much like an ironclad ship, to provide power for the airship’s takeoff, landing, and mid-air hovering.

The power for this section came, naturally, from the magic-powered core inside the gondola. As long as the supply of liquid magical energy was sufficient, the core could continuously pump hot air into the gasbags and drive the propulsion system, allowing the airship to fly steadily through the sky.

Black, White, and Michel, who had volunteered to join the northern exploration team, came closer and asked, “If there’s enough mana, how fast can this airship fly? Can it be as fast as a high-rank battle mage?”

Harvey shook his head with a faint smile. Matching the speed of a high-rank battle mage would probably have to wait until he could build a fighter jet from scratch. Even with a magic-powered boost, the airship was only slightly more maneuverable than a regular hot-air balloon; its speed hadn’t increased much. Its main advantage was endurance.

Chris, however, was full of confidence. “If the core is running at full power, the airship can reach half the speed of a galloping horse. But the magical energy consumption would be extremely high, and it would run out of fuel in half an hour at most… It’s best not to try unless absolutely necessary.”

To reduce the airship’s weight, only the gondola’s base and its structural connections were made of steel bars and iron chains. The rest was constructed from wickerwork and sheet iron, covered with a coating made from rubber fruit to ensure it was windproof and airtight.

This was also why Duncan had been so insistent that Harvey select battle mages for this northern exploration mission. Frail, research-type Spellcasters would not be able to endure a long journey in a sheet-iron gondola; the increasingly frigid temperatures further north would quickly turn them into human popsicles mid-flight.

Battle mages, on the other hand—especially those from the Necromancer school of casting—were mostly versed in flesh magic and physical modification. They all possessed, to some degree, a formidable, transcendent physique. Paired with Illusionists, who were also renowned for modifying their bodies, they would be able to successfully complete this dangerous expedition.

…

“What? This is just an unfinished prototype?” Chris wore an expression of disbelief, stammering, “We followed your theoretical designs, running many trials and experiments… Pumping heated air into the gasbags with the magic-powered core does indeed make the airship float…”

Harvey shook his head with a smile and explained softly, “So you still believe… it’s the power of magic that makes it fly? Is that right?”

Benoit stared blankly. “Besides magic, what else could make an inanimate object fly? Surely not the Church’s divine arts?”

Harvey opened his mouth, the word “science” on the tip of his tongue. But then he realized that in this alternate world filled with the supernatural and mana, this completely new compound word he would have to invent… even its components could be misconstrued as describing the might of magic.

Indeed, without the magic-powered core’s continuous heating, the airship’s gasbags couldn’t remain aloft for long. However, if a gaseous fuel like hydrogen could be extracted and compressed into storage tanks to inflate the airship, the effect would be far superior to the magic-powered core, which had to be constantly active to keep pumping hot air into the gasbags.

Harvey considered himself a complete pragmatist. When magic was more effective than science, he would choose magic without hesitation. But when science proved superior to magic, he would decisively embrace science.

The technique of producing hydrogen through the electrolysis of water was an introductory experiment in middle school chemistry. Even a good-for-nothing liberal arts student like him could explain its principles and practical application with ease. For gifted individuals like Chris and Benoit, it would be second nature.

He just wasn’t sure if, in addition to being Chief Alchemists… they would be interested in the strange new title of “Chemist.”

…

A week later, at the South Slope Base’s flight testing ground, the airship, now refilled with a new gas, was ready.

The redesigned gas chamber was still spindle-shaped, about eight meters at its widest diameter, internally supported by a lightweight steel frame connecting six independent gasbags. The only difference was that the outer skin was now coated with the juice of the Chameleon Fruit, giving it a natural “optical camouflage” effect. After ascending, it would quickly blend in with the color of the sky and clouds, minimizing the chances of being spotted by dangerous creatures or hostile targets.

“It looks about the same as during the last test flight…” Duncan remarked, carefully examining the newly modified airship.

“This is the final product… a flying vehicle that can be used without a magic-powered core.” Harvey cleared his throat and began to explain to the members of the northern exploration team, “The gasbags no longer need the core to continuously pump in hot air. Instead, they’ve been filled once with a brand-new alchemical gas… As long as the bags aren’t punctured and don’t leak, this gas will allow you to stay airborne for a very long time.”

“Once the alchemical gas is depleted, you just need to refill it with the spare gas canisters you’re carrying, and you’ll be able to take flight again…” Chris chimed in at the right moment, adding to Harvey’s explanation.

The Eye of Illusion and the three Necromancers clicked their tongues in wonder. “This alchemical gas must be incredibly rare and expensive, right? To be able to replace a magic-powered core… my lord must have spent a fortune on our expedition.”

Benoit and Chris exchanged a glance and coughed awkwardly. Benoit muttered under his breath, “Uh… electromagnetic magic acting on water… displacing hydrogen from acid with metal…”

Hearing his quiet mumbling, Chris’s body jolted. He subconsciously looked toward Harvey, thinking to himself, Elements above… My lord Harvey has obtained secret, ancient knowledge from memory fragments—knowledge even older and more arcane than the school of alchemy—and he’s willing to share it selflessly with two independent alchemists like Benoit and me… This, this is truly…

Glancing down at Benoit’s pale fingers clutching tightly to his sleeve, Chris once again felt a wave of gratitude and relief.

Following his two mentors’ instructions and advice to come to the Northern Barren Lands and serve my lord Harvey was truly the wisest choice he had ever made in his life. Perhaps, in the near future, he would have the chance to touch upon the ultimate secrets of the school of alchemy, far sooner than his mentors ever could.

Of course, that meant Benoit, another independent alchemist who had joined my lord Harvey’s service later… was now his only partner, and his greatest rival.

Chapter 417: Eastern Inspection

The massive airship descended into the pioneering base in the Eastern Basin, causing the busy workers below to stop in their tracks and stare, dumbfounded, at the flying vehicle slowly lowering itself from the sky.

Harvey was the first to step out of the airship’s gondola. The Eye of Illusion, following behind him, had unsteady steps, and the other three Necromancers who had come along for the test flight also staggered slightly.

“Retch… retch…” Michel, his face pale, couldn’t hold it in any longer. He dry-heaved a few times with a pained expression and apologized to Harvey, “My lord, my sincerest apologies. I’ve never experienced flight before… I didn’t expect it to be so unpleasant.”

The Eye of Illusion quickly added, “I don’t understand. When I fly using my own magic, everything is normal. But sitting in this airship that can ascend without mana, I feel dizzy and disoriented… Could it be that Mr. Michel and I are the type of Spellcasters who are naturally unsuited for flying?”

Harvey couldn’t help but suppress a laugh. He had heard of people with the strange condition of not getting sick when driving, but getting sick as a passenger. It was something that couldn’t be resolved with medicine or treatment; one could only endure it and try to adapt.

“I hear a patch of saline-alkali land was discovered southwest of the basin, near the mountain range, with a large growth of saltwater reeds?” Harvey summoned the City Hall official temporarily stationed at the Eastern Expansion base and asked with great interest.

Although this was a test flight for the airship, inspecting the development work at the pioneering base was Harvey’s main objective.

The Northern Barren Lands were rich in copper and iron deposits, and mining had been the pillar industry of Starfire City in its early days. However, essential goods industries like salt and sugar production had always been a weak point. This had forced Harvey to rely on the merchant guilds in the south to “import” sea salt and cane sugar from the distant southern coast, which placed an extremely heavy burden on the city’s finances.

Although they later discovered the Northern Realm’s native saltwater reeds, a special crop for salt extraction, the most fertile land was prioritized for food crops, so salt production was never scaled up. Thus, the fortunate discovery of a large salt deposit in the Eastern Basin was a truly unexpected and welcome surprise.

“My lord, that saline-alkali land is even more vast than the Greenwater Marsh next to Starfire City…” The City Hall official in charge of surveying mineral resources was also beaming with joy. “We’ve already arranged for workers, with the help of alchemical beasts, to harvest the saltwater reeds that grow there naturally and have them sent to the Eastern Expansion base for immediate processing…”

“And the salt mine? How will it be excavated? What’s the quality like?” Harvey wasn’t familiar with the salt-making industry of this era. Based on the preconceived notions from his past life, he subconsciously assumed that sea salt was superior in quality to rock salt from a mine.

A salt worker who had previously served a noble in Grizzly Bear Territory stepped forward voluntarily. “My lord, back in Grizzly Bear Territory… we extracted brine by drilling salt wells. The method is slightly different from the coast; we mainly use the boiling method.”

The Northern Realm wasn’t like the southern coast; it lacked the ceaseless sea breeze and intense sun. Naturally, they couldn’t use the solar evaporation method to produce large quantities of sea salt. The well salt produced by the two salt wells in Frostflower Town and Mill Town in Grizzly Bear Territory was barely enough to supply the entire border region of the Duchy… The output wasn’t even sufficient for export.

“No wonder the price of salt in the central kingdoms has always been so high…” Harvey stroked his chin, sighing.

The salt worker sighed and quietly lamented to his City Lord, “It’s just too difficult to get the salt out of the deep wells by hand… The well opening is small, and you can’t just lower a bucket to scoop it up. Every time we collect brine, we first have to pour a large amount of hot, fresh water into the well. After the brine dissolves into the fresh water, we have to ladle it out, bit by bit, with a special pointed-bottom copper tube.”

Harvey ordered an attendant to bring a brush and paper and instructed the salt worker to draw a simple diagram of the salt well and the tools used. After a single glance, he asked in confusion, “Why make the well opening so small? Can’t you just dig it wider?”

The salt worker smiled. “My lord, the salt layer is deeper than metal ore veins. If you try to dig it like a normal well, the walls will collapse halfway down… But it’s much easier now. With your magical-powered machines, we can use copper pipes to continuously pump brine from the salt well. With two pipes, one in and one out, the production efficiency will be on a completely different level.”

So that was it. The method of injecting water to create and extract brine was something this era was forced to adopt due to technological limitations. But it was, at the very least, an effective and time-tested technique. Now that they had the aid of magical-powered machinery that could drastically increase extraction efficiency, there was no need to go through the trouble of some major technological innovation.

If they could secure an ample supply of salt from the Eastern Basin, it would not only provide Starfire City with the large quantities of high-quality salt it desperately needed, but also greatly alleviate the financial pressure on City Hall from importing sea salt from the southern coast. When it came to matters of the people’s livelihood—food, clothing, shelter, and transport—Harvey was absolutely unwilling to pass the costs onto the populace. Price stability for grain, salt, and sugar was his bottom line.

“I understand… Now, let’s talk about sugar production.”

The south planted sugarcane to extract cane sugar, while the north ground grains to create malt sugar… it was entirely consistent with the world of Harvey’s past life. But it was also an unchangeable fact that sugarcane could not be grown in the cold north.

Even the half-elf Egnor, an expert in plant modification and seed enchantment, admitted he was powerless in this regard… The means to fundamentally change a crop’s growing habits was not something a mortal Spellcaster could easily achieve. It would likely require the power of a god.

Fortunately, the vast and resource-rich lands of the Northern Barren Lands always managed to bring Harvey some special surprises at critical moments.

When the pioneering officials jubilantly pushed a wooden cart forward, presenting him with a giant plant tuber the size of a washbasin, Harvey was truly stunned.

“A melon?” He reached out and patted the huge fruit, which was still covered in dirt, and found that it didn’t feel like a melon or a gourd.

“It’s not a fruit… My lord, this was dug out of the ground. It’s a thing like a cassava tuber.” An official took out a small knife and, in front of everyone, plunged it into the tuber with a soft squish. He twisted it around before pulling it out. From the gash, a viscous, yellowish liquid, like honey, immediately began to ooze out.

Before Harvey could reach for it, the Captain of the personal guard, Tommy, darted his own two fingers forward, dipped them in the thick juice, and quickly put them in his mouth. “So sweet! But it’s different from honey, not quite as sweet…”

In the north of the south, where sugarcane for sugar production couldn’t be grown, honey was a rare commodity with low yields. It was a delicacy that only noble families could afford; ordinary commoners had no chance of enjoying it.

The pioneering official hurriedly added, “But its yield is much greater than honey! This is the rhizome of a woody plant from the central part of the basin… and the supply is as vast as a forest that stretches as far as the eye can see!”

Harvey clapped his hands, smiling in satisfaction. “Then we’ll call it the Sugar Tree! Saltwater reeds that take the place of sugarcane… a tree whose roots can produce sugar. The Northern Barren Lands truly bring us unexpected surprises at every turn.”

Chapter 418: The Journey North

After inspecting the saline-alkali mines and the Sugar Tree forest in the Eastern Basin, Harvey led the group back to Starfire City by airship, arriving at the castle near midnight.

After a simple dinner, he went into his study and eagerly grabbed a pen and paper to start thinking about the resource development plan for the Eastern Basin.

For now, Starfire City’s external expansion plan wouldn’t start until the end of summer. Besides meeting the routine production quotas for strategic material reserves at the munitions factory, the Energy Department could divert its surplus energy supply to the Eastern Expansion base.

The first priority was to supply power to the magical-powered machines and alchemical beasts. Whether for mining, transportation, or pumping water for irrigation, magical energy machines were far more efficient than pure manual labor. Once the spring planting at the Eastern Expansion base was finished, large-scale salt and sugar factories would be built on-site to get these two civilian industrial projects up and running.

Furthermore, in a few days, the exploration team led by Duncan and the others would be departing. To ensure everything went off without a hitch and to reduce the risks of their long journey, Harvey had exhausted every effort, meticulously considering every single detail for them.

…

“If it weren’t for the airship’s weight limitations, I would’ve preferred for you to take my puppet shell with you. That way, I could personally fly into the depths of the barren lands and see what the legendary ‘continental heartland’ is truly like…”

Harvey sighed with regret as he said this to Duncan, while watching Chris and the others make the final preparations for the exploration team’s departure.

Astaren and the others had a hard time dissuading him from his adventurous impulse and quickly changed the subject. “My lord, while a soul puppet only takes up the weight of one person, the mobile case needed to amplify the mental energy connection isn’t light. Lord Duncan and his team’s first planned stop is the Kingdom of Eternal Night, where I was born. More than you… I’m the one who wants to go back and see my homeland.”

If Harvey couldn’t go, Astaren had even less of a chance. After all, his alchemical shell, forged from pure metal, weighed a hefty 150 to 200 kilograms. That cargo space would be better used to equip the exploration team with more fuel cylinders and liquid magical energy, or even extra magical energy weapons and food supplies.

After repeated tests on the airship’s gasbag fuel consumption and relying on Astaren’s distant memories, the Alchemy Laboratory, which was fully in charge of the expedition’s logistics, made meticulous calculations. They ultimately estimated the approximate distance of the first leg of the journey. Maintaining a constant speed at minimum energy consumption, the airship would need to travel at a rate of about 150 kilometers per day, flying by day and landing at night. It would take nearly a month to cross the vast distance of five thousand kilometers and reach the Kingdom of Eternal Night deep in the Icefields.

Once they reached the depths of the Icefields, regardless of whether they found the ruins of the ancient wizard kingdom long lost to history, they had to find a safe location to establish an exploratory outpost before their fuel ran out. They would use the materials they carried to build a temporary Magic Net teleportation array, ensuring that subsequent fuel and supplies from Starfire City could be continuously delivered to them via instantaneous teleportation.

This was also what Harvey had been worried about. Such a long transmission distance was comparable to when a member of the Elves from the Golden Forest in the east sent trade materials to the Evil Moon Mountain Range west of the south, as discussed on the Spellcaster Forum.

Harvey and numerous forum members had personally tested this kind of ultra-long-distance Magic Net teleportation before… Due to abnormal fluctuations in the Magic Net’s energy, the “package loss rate” was quite high. It was safer and more reliable to make a transfer stop in the central region of the south.

But it was impossible to set up a transfer station for the exploration team in the barren lands. The teleportation array materials they carried were only enough to build one temporary array. If any mistakes or mishaps occurred, safely returning to Starfire City would mean trekking through the vast barren lands and venturing through hordes of vile orc tribes.

“It’s a shame our school of alchemy’s research into spatial magic is still too superficial,” Chris said, also worried. “If we could create magical storage rings with larger capacities… we wouldn’t be here stingily calculating the airship’s payload and supply ratios.”

But spatial magic had always been a niche field of research that only Alchemists delved into. Whether it was a Necromancer like Harvey, who focused on soul and flesh; an Elemental Mage, skilled in manipulating the Four Basic Elements; or an Arcane Mage, who focused on the application of pure magical energy, they rarely touched upon this “obscure domain” involving the expression of mana runes and the inscription of spatial laws.

High-rank casters like the Eye of Illusion, who were wealthy, would often spend a fortune to commission a custom storage ring from an Alchemist. But its only purpose was to conceal and safely store rare spellcasting components and magic artifacts. Even a top-tier magic ring crafted personally by a Chief Alchemist like Mr. “Man in the Mirror” could only create a storage space equivalent to a leather suitcase.

In Chris’s words—“You can barely stuff fifty food cans in there… That’s not even enough rations for them for a month.”

But as useless as they seemed, Harvey still spent a great deal of money and pulled some strings to buy several storage rings from the Alchemical Exploration Society and the Federation. He distributed them to the other members of the exploration team who didn’t have one—Black, White, and Michel—since Duncan, the Eye of Illusion, and the Astrologer already did.

The three Necromancers, who were used to harsh conditions and scarce resources, naturally treated the rings like priceless treasures, seeing them as an advance reward from Harvey for their enthusiastic participation in this adventurous mission.

Benoit, who had also lost the chance to go on the expedition with his teacher and fellow student, was leading his alchemy apprentices in a thorough inspection and adjustment of the airship, inside and out. He strived to ensure that this new type of flying vehicle wouldn’t have the slightest problem during the long journey.

“Spare gasbags, fuel canisters, camouflage coating, magical energy weapons…” he muttered to himself as he flipped through the supply list. “Think… think if there’s anything I’ve missed.”

Even an alchemy apprentice couldn’t help but gently reassure him, “Mentor, we’ve already checked the equipment and supply list you and Mr. Chris prepared several times. Even the canned food rations have been matched to their lordships’ usual tastes… Nothing will go wrong.”

Harvey chuckled, patted the alchemist’s shoulder, and teased, “Two Magic Brain devices! Those are crucial supplies you definitely have to bring. The exploration team must send a communication signal to Starfire City at a pre-arranged time each day to report their progress and any intelligence gathered, and also to confirm that they are safe.”

And in Starfire City, personnel would be assigned to monitor the one-way communication Magic Brain device day and night. If an emergency distress signal was received, a second airship would immediately take off and head north, following the specific coordinates sent back by the device to launch a rescue operation.

After all, the people on that airship were what Harvey considered “high-end, elite” magical talent. In terms of both their exploratory spirit and their personal abilities, they could not be abandoned lightly.

Even if the exploration team was temporarily trapped deep in the barren lands due to some accident and unable to return, or if the Magic Net teleportation array truly couldn’t transmit fuel and supplies due to the excessive distance, Harvey still had a way to send in ground troops for a rapid advance, using manpower and alchemical vehicles to bring them home.

The usually quiet Ms. Astrologer smiled. “My Lord need not be so anxious. You can rest assured and leave the star charting and map surveying along the way to me! When we return safely, I will certainly present you with a complete exploration map.”

Chapter 419: Depths of the Icefields

Eye of Illusion casually tossed the empty food can out of the airship.

The Astrologer frowned slightly and grumbled softly, “Jin, could you please not always throw trash from up high?”

“Hehe, if we were in the city, of course I wouldn’t do this… but what does it matter out here in the barren lands? It’s not like it’ll hit any innocent people.”

Sitting cross-legged in the airship’s gondola with a cup of hot tea, Duncan patiently advised his ever-reckless student, “I recall telling you before that many magical creatures have an extremely keen sense of smell. If you don’t want demonic beasts creeping up to our camp in droves when we land for the night, it’s best not to leave anything with your scent on it for them…”

The Necromancer, Michel, had a moment of realization. “Mr. Duncan, no wonder you always have us burn and bury our trash whenever we leave an overnight camp. Is that the reason?”

Duncan nodded and shot his embarrassed student a sidelong glance. “Yes. Even an ordinary hunter with no mana whatsoever knows this survival skill. After all, in the barren lands, the roles of hunter and prey can reverse at any moment.”

The two brothers, White and Black, who were piloting the airship, smoothly switched places and sat down beside Duncan. They asked respectfully, “Lord Duncan, could you tell us some stories about hunting and taming powerful magical creatures when you were studying shapeshifting magic?”

Since they were from a different school of casting, and this kind of casual conversation didn’t touch upon any secret core principles of magic, the question wasn’t presumptuous or rude. Duncan smiled and raised his half-empty teacup. Michel, taking the hint, quickly took the teapot from the portable stove and refilled it with hot water.

“When I was young and chose to major in shapeshifting magic as my main school of casting, I knew this path would be exceptionally difficult…”

Compared to Elves, Human Spellcasters are born with a lesser affinity for and perception of the natural elements. This means they have inherent disadvantages and cognitive gaps when it comes to constructing shapeshifting spell models by emulating magical creatures.

Furthermore, although the Elves hold no obvious animosity towards Humans, they are exceptionally closed-off and conservative academically. They are completely unwilling to proactively share or teach this branch of magical knowledge, which has led to the Human magical world’s long-standing weakness in the school of shapeshifting.

For a Spellcaster like Duncan, who hailed from an ancient wizard family, abandoning his family’s time-honored tradition of arcane casting was equivalent to starting from scratch on a path of self-study.

“Back at the Oland Royal Magic Academy, I studied under my teacher, Franken, who also practiced shapeshifting magic. After successfully advancing to mid-rank, I paid the price of joining the wizard coalition to go to the Demon battlefield in the Evil Moon Mountain Range. It was through combat that I fumbled my way to finding the experience and secrets to reaching high-rank…”

Duncan’s rambling words were filled with wistful emotion, prompting Eye of Illusion to interject, “Combat-type Spellcasters, in moments of life-and-death crisis, have a high chance of breaking through their own limitations and grasping the inspiration and key to advancing to high-rank… That’s what you told me yourself back then, teacher, and it proved to be true.”

He and Melissa had naturally followed Duncan’s teachings and advice, seeking out precious opportunities to advance to high-rank as battle mages.

Black and White glanced at each other, puzzled. “We’ve often heard that battle mages are the most likely to advance during combat, but no one really seems to know the origin of this saying or rumor…”

Duncan chuckled softly and said slowly, “Most of the ancient wizard families with long lineages have this saying passed down among them. As for the origin… well, that’s a long story.”

He smiled and raised his alchemical prosthetic, which glinted with a silvery-white metallic sheen. “You’re no strangers to the City Lord’s chief advisor, Mr. Astaren, are you? In fact… it’s quite possible that he and I came from the same ancient wizard family.”

Eye of Illusion was stunned for a second, then said in disbelief, “What? How did we not know? Teacher, Mr. Astaren… rumor has it he’s an ancient vampire!”

“Half-blood vampire! Don’t be so rude,” the Astrologer chided, tugging at the corner of his shirt.

Astaren’s wizard family had migrated to the Northern Realm to live in seclusion back during the Dragon War. Deep in the barren lands, they established a Wizard Kingdom called the Kingdom of Eternal Night. As for the family branches they left behind in the south, the wizard family Duncan came from could very well be one of those lineages.

And ancient wizards never had a distinction between research and combat types. All the wizards of the Kingdom of Eternal Night… were, strictly speaking, battle mages. They had to achieve their own rank advancements through direct confrontation with powerful enemies in life-and-death battles.

“I understand now!” Eye of Illusion couldn’t help but stand up. “No wonder you volunteered to lead this expedition, teacher… You want to find the legendary Kingdom of Eternal Night too, don’t you? The ancient Wizard Kingdom possibly founded by your ancestors.”

Duncan smiled and nodded. “Mr. Astaren is also very concerned about this, as it was his former home… and since the first objective of this expedition is to find the Kingdom of Eternal Night, it’s not as if I’m mixing private affairs with public business.”

The Astrologer said worriedly, “But we’ve been flying north for almost half a month. Other than endless, savage forests and the occasional vile orc tribe… we haven’t seen the slightest trace of any ruins from an ancient Wizard Kingdom.”

She had barely finished speaking when Michel, who was at the helm, shouted from the observation window at the front of the gondola, “Speak of the devil! Everyone, I’ve spotted a large vile orc tribe in the valley ahead. Should we fly straight over, or…”

Since taking off from Starfire City, they had followed their original plan, heading due north without deviation. From the third day of their flight, they had begun to spot traces of vile orc tribes one after another. These savage, primitive tribes were as numerous and widespread as rabbits in the barren lands. Tribes of all sizes dotted the entire Icefields region and were constantly migrating due to herding and internal conflicts. No matter where the exploration team went, they could see signs of their activity.

Most of the time, the exploration team chose to simply ignore them, flying straight over their heads at an altitude of several hundred meters. There was no need to land and cause themselves unnecessary trouble.

Eye of Illusion also walked to the observation window, squinting as he gazed toward the distant valley. A moment later, still not satisfied, he took out a spyglass to confirm again and again.

“This time, I’m afraid we’ll really have to land…” He turned and reported to Duncan, “Teacher, the vile orc tribe in the valley ahead seems to be fighting a group of refugees from the barren lands. And from the looks of it, they’re not in a good situation…”

The refugees from the barren lands were also fellow kin, fellow Humans. As Human Spellcasters, it was their duty to lend a hand, especially when their people were facing invasion and slaughter by a non-human race.

Chapter 420: Refugee Settlement

A vile orc, roaring as it brandished a rusty iron axe and charged at the human refugees, was suddenly struck down by a frost blade that fell from the sky, piercing it from the shoulder and pinning it to the ground in an instant.

An old man, huddled beside a tent made of pack beast hide, clutching a child with his eyes shut, ready for death, timidly opened his eyes to see a strange, black-robed young man descending from mid-air.

“A barren lander?”

“A barren lander… Are you… are you a Lord Wizard?” the old man asked, his voice trembling.

The Eye of Illusion subconsciously shook his head, then, feeling that wasn’t quite wrong, quickly nodded again. “You’ve seen a spell… a wizard?”

He didn’t wait patiently for an answer. After asking his question, he took off on his own, speeding toward the dense forest where the fighting was most intense.

“This isn’t a vile orc tribe at all…” Ms. Astrologer had just dealt with two vile orc warriors when she looked around and realized something was wrong. “This is a refugee settlement of the barren lands, but it seems most of the people have migrated away, leaving behind only some elderly and weak children.”

Clearly, in the face of famine or danger, these two groups were the first to be abandoned in the barren lands.

The Necromancer Michel, who had been brought down to the ground early by the two high-level casters, had just finished his incantation. Under the terrified gazes of the surviving refugees, he raised four or five bloody vile orc Living Corpses from the ground.

“Ms. Astrologer, we should hurry and assist Mr. Eye of Illusion!”

Ms. Astrologer put away her crystal ball and said unhurriedly, “There’s no need to worry about him. Once he uses his transformation magic, he won’t revert until his mana is depleted. I doubt the few vile orcs left in this refugee camp will be enough for him to even sink his teeth into…”

The enormous Airship flying over the camp scared most of the invading vile orcs into a panicked retreat. Only a few dozen remained, their minds completely gripped by greed and hunger, still lingering and searching the refugee camp, completely unaware until they were swiftly eliminated by the three who had disembarked from the airship.

…

By the time the Airship had slowly descended and landed completely in the refugee camp, the advance party of three, responsible for clearing out the remaining vile orcs, had just finished the battle.

“A troop of vile orcs without a spellcasting priest is as vulnerable as a pack of rats; they just scatter and flee…” The Eye of Illusion reverted from his werewolf form. Although his words were dismissive of his barbaric enemies, his pale complexion proved he had expended a great deal of mana.

The surviving refugees emerged from their hiding places in twos and threes, gathering by the open space where the Airship had landed. Led by the old man the Eye of Illusion had met earlier, they prostrated themselves on the ground, praying incessantly.

“Don’t the barren landers lack religious beliefs?” The Eye of Illusion frowned. “Could a missionary from the Luminous Theocracy have actually reached this place?”

The old man in the lead looked up and replied earnestly, “Lord Wizard… we believe in the god of the earth and harvest. Both the vile orcs and the barren landers believe in this ancient deity who protects the Icefields.”

Duncan nodded in understanding and explained quietly to his students, “A simple, primitive faith. Before the Luminous Theocracy grew powerful, the south also had many primitive beliefs, symbolized by mountains, rivers, lakes, and seas, or representing symbols of harvest or fertility.”

Michel’s eyes lit up with realization, then he grumbled with some dissatisfaction, “The spellcasters were the ones who saved you, yet you turn around and thank some non-existent god of earth and harvest. It’s just…”

The old man paused, stunned, then stammered, “It’s been so long… since a Lord Wizard has come here. We couldn’t help but think that a god had sent someone to save us…”

Duncan glanced around and saw that fewer than fifty people remained in the camp—indeed, only the white-haired elderly and half-grown children who were thin, weak, and malformed.

“Where did everyone else from the camp migrate to?” Ms. Astrologer asked softly, unable to bear the sight of this group of the old, weak, sick, and disabled.

But the old man waved his hand and smiled. “They went south… We heard that in a warmer place to the south, there’s a territory established by a human Lord that unconditionally accepts and helps barren lander refugees, providing food and shelter… Although we couldn’t be sure if it was true, everyone decided to try their luck. It’s better than staying here to be captured or killed by vile orcs… There isn’t much game to be hunted around here anymore, either.”

Duncan subconsciously exchanged a look with his two students. They had not expected the influence of Starfire City to have reached this deep into the barren lands, five hundred kilometers away.

“When did the others set out?”

“Just at the start of spring, right after the heavy snows melted…” The old man paused, then gave a bitter smile. “It’s a good thing most of them left. The old, weak, sick, and disabled who remain can at least manage to survive on the wild fruits and cassava roots nearby.”

But sooner or later, they would die of starvation or from the coming of another extremely cold winter… They were only living through the spring, summer, and autumn. How similar they were to the insects of the barren lands, which live for only a year.

Duncan sighed and instructed Ms. Astrologer, “Record the geographical coordinates and star chart position of this refugee settlement. Report it back when you contact Starfire City tonight… Even if we can’t come here to pick them up, we can at least try to meet the main group of refugees who are making the long journey to seek refuge with us.”

Beyond that, there was nothing else they could do.

The old and weak refugees who had been left behind, however, seemed unconcerned. They simply thanked their saviors profusely and enthusiastically begged them to stay and rest for the night.

An Airship’s takeoff and landing consumed a significant amount of energy, and Duncan had intended to rest here for the night anyway. He had Black and White take stock of the exploration team’s remaining supplies and set up a temporary camp for the night beside the airship.

There was still some time before sunset. The refugees, who had just faced a life-and-death crisis, seemed to have forgotten their terror in the face of the vile orcs. They all left the camp and headed into the dense forest, resuming their daily routine of gathering wild fruits and digging up cassava roots. The old man leading them, meanwhile, arranged for several sallow-faced, skinny, half-grown children to bring a large pile of firewood for the night’s warmth and some dark, unrecognizable animal hides from the camp over to the exploration team’s airship.

“Who is the eldest person in the camp?” Duncan asked, beckoning a skinny child over.

“That’s… that’s Grandpa Gabu, the one who was talking to you earlier.”

Duncan nodded, took a dried wheat cake from his pocket, and pressed it into the skinny child’s hand. “Go and ask him to come over…”

…

The old man, Gabu, sat cross-legged by the campfire, holding a jar of thick mushroom soup the exploration team had given him. Sipping it slowly, he recalled, “Lord Wizard, although I’ve never heard of any Kingdom of Eternal Night, when I was a child… I spent some time in a settlement further north. A large refugee tribe has lived there for a long time. It’s a mountainous region… The elders say that on the peak of a snow-capped mountain, there’s a beacon tower that the refugee tribe must guard for generations, which is why they have never migrated away.”

A beacon tower? Duncan’s heart skipped a beat when he heard this. He quickly pressed, “What beacon tower? Have you ever seen it? How long has it been there?”

Gabu shook his head and stammered, a little embarrassed, “How could an ordinary person easily climb such a tall and steep mountain? I’ve never seen it, of course. But I was just a child when I lived there. That beacon tower must have been built at least a century ago.”

The Eye of Illusion asked doubtfully, “Don’t the vile orcs attack that place?”

Gabu let out a long breath and said cautiously, “That refugee tribe… has wizards just like you.”

Chapter 421: The Tribe Beneath the Snowy Mountain

At the crack of dawn, the exploration team departed from the refugee camp, flying toward the snowy mountains as the old man, Gabu, had directed.

The Airship operated in its most fuel-efficient mode, keeping its altitude consistently within a hundred meters to take advantage of the wind.

Around noon, after a simple meal in the Airship’s Gondola, they could already see the distant silhouette of the snow-capped mountain range. Duncan speculated that the so-called beacon tower was very likely an ancient outpost on the border of the Kingdom of Eternal Night. The massive wizard family that had migrated here in the past would surely have established defensive lines to ward off the vile orcs and Demons whose forces were spread across the barren lands.

As for the human refugees who had settled there permanently, they were more likely the surviving descendants of the Kingdom of Eternal Night. If they could find the tribe’s elders and chief to ask, they might just get a clue to the location of the kingdom’s ruins from their orally transmitted histories and legends.

“Teacher, the casters from the barren lands… would they be different from us?” the Astrologer asked curiously. “Will our sudden appearance make them hostile?”

Duncan chuckled and explained, “Before we left, I followed the City Lord’s instructions and spoke with many officials in the city who came from the barren lands. According to them… the rule in the barren lands has always been to welcome the strong and reject the weak. Spellcasters like us, in particular, are enthusiastically welcomed by them.”

But to be on the safe side, they decided to land before approaching the settlement in the snowy mountains. They would hide the Airship outside and leave Michel, Black, and White behind as a precaution. Only Duncan and his two disciples would enter the settlement to gather information.

“We will return to the Airship by tomorrow afternoon at the latest. If we’re not back by then… use this Magic Brain device to contact Starfire City immediately and ask the City Lord for help!” the Astrologer confirmed the details of the plan with the three young Mages who were staying behind.

Eye of Illusion smiled. “You’re making a mountain out of a molehill. I don’t believe a tiny refugee settlement could produce a high-level caster.”

“Arrogant young man!” Duncan reprimanded with a frown. “Have you forgotten what Mr. Astaren told us before we left? Ancient wizards made no distinction between battle mages and research mages. It’s highly likely that their descendants have inherited their traditions, meaning every one of them is a battle-hardened combat caster.”

Eye of Illusion pouted and obediently stood behind his teacher. The three of them cast a flight spell and sped toward the settlement, several kilometers away.

Things happened just as they had expected. As soon as they neared the settlement, they were immediately spotted by refugee sentinels hidden in the dense forest. A shrill whistle tore through the sky. Fortunately, upon seeing that the newcomers were fellow humans, the militia that gradually gathered around them did not make any aggressive moves.

“Please inform your chief… we are Spellcasters from the south.” Just as Duncan finished speaking, he saw the gates of the camp in the distance swing open. A group of refugees dressed in thick animal hides came rushing toward them, led by a man who was clearly their leader.

“Spellcasters from the south?” The refugee chief, a sturdy man with dark hair and a beard, frowned in disbelief. “How is that possible? How did you reach the depths of the barren lands?”

An elderly man beside him, dressed in a cotton robe with sparse, white hair, waved his hand and said in a low voice, “Perhaps they are descendants of the Dragon Chasers, Sky Mages with a complete sorcerous heritage…”

“What Dragon Chasers? And what are Sky Mages?” Eye of Illusion couldn’t help but mutter, finding that this old man, who was clearly one of their kind, was speaking of things he didn’t understand.

The Astrologer quickly tugged his sleeve, signaling him to be quiet and not interrupt.

Duncan, however, placed a hand over his chest and gave the other party an ancient wizard’s salute. “Regardless of how we arrived here, please believe that we have absolutely no ill intentions,” he said sincerely. “We are only searching for the ruins… of the Kingdom of Eternal Night, which was destroyed in the demon invasion centuries ago.”

The white-haired old man nodded, returned the wizard’s salute, and softened his tone. “Guests from the south, you are welcome here. Please, come inside with us first…”

Upon entering the settlement, Duncan and his disciples discovered that this permanent refugee camp in the snowy mountains was far larger than they had imagined. It occupied almost the entire valley, and there was only one entrance leading to the outside world. Not only was it easy to defend and hard to attack, but… unless one was scouting from the sky, it was nearly impossible to spot any trace of the camp from the ground.

The refugees who had long resided here did not live in simple, temporary, or semi-permanent dwellings made of animal-hide tents like those in other settlements. Instead, they had dug a large number of cave dwellings into the cliff faces. A quick glance suggested they could house at least a thousand people.

The place the refugee chief and the old wizard led them to was the largest cave dwelling, located halfway up the mountain.

“I am Chief Bear-Mane, and this is Elder Uli…” After gesturing for the three to sit on animal-hide mats, the refugee chief bluntly introduced them.

The elderly Mage, called Elder Uli, let out a soft sigh. “It’s been about ten years since we’ve had any visiting Spellcasters here,” he lamented.

Bear-Mane narrowed his eyes and asked in a gruff voice, “How did you find the entrance to our camp? Was it through divination?”

Duncan smiled and explained, “No… we first visited the refugee settlement in the forest valley, but unfortunately, the people there had already migrated south. An old man who stayed behind, named Gabu, gave us directions to this place.”

Elder Uli was stunned for a moment, then it dawned on him. “Gabu… I remember him. Spirits above… he’s still alive.”

With that, Chief Bear-Mane and Elder Uli finally let down their guard, no longer doubting the identities and origins of Duncan and his companions.

“Honorable wizard guests, our tribe has lived and thrived here for centuries. We have truly never heard of this Kingdom of Eternal Night you speak of, and there are no ancient ruins around the snowy mountains…”

Eye of Illusion, who had been bottling up a storm of questions, finally couldn’t hold back any longer. He spoke before his teacher could, “Then why do you live here permanently? And why do you guard that beacon tower on the mountaintop?”

Chief Bear-Mane and Elder Uli exchanged a look. Then, each took out a piece of tattered animal hide from within their clothes, pieced them together, and spread them out before everyone.

“The tribe has been through several major invasions by the vile orcs, and many of our ancient traditions and histories have been lost. All we have left is this scroll, and the mission entrusted to us by generations of chiefs and elders… to guard the beacon tower on the snowy mountain.”

Duncan leaned in for a closer look and saw that the animal hide depicted a tall stone tower on a mountaintop. But the scene itself was rather odd—the distorted lines above the tower indicated that it was lit, while the crowd of people below responsible for lighting it unexpectedly included tall, deep-red-skinned Demons!

And all these figures, both human and Demon, wore expressions of terror and despair, which looked disturbingly lifelike despite the crude lines drawn with mineral pigments.

A lit beacon… Demons and humans intermingled…

Duncan felt his heart pound heavily. It was as if he had glimpsed an extraordinary ancient secret from the animal-hide scroll. He instantly recalled the historical truth that City Lord Harvey had recounted after consuming the Magic Core—a truth lost to the river of time.

This place was not a remnant of the Kingdom of Eternal Night at all… It was from an even earlier era, a forward sentry post left by human ancestors who had migrated from the “continental heartland” to defend against the non-human enemies of the north!

But why were Demons mixed in among them?

Duncan subconsciously turned to his two students and saw that they too had understood the scroll’s hidden meaning. Their faces were now exceptionally pale.

He said decisively, “Please take us to the beacon tower on the summit of the snowy mountain!”

Chapter 422: The Beacon’s Vow

After learning the exact location of the stone beacon tower at the peak of the snowy mountain, Duncan was about to fly there at once with his two students but was stopped by Elder Uli of the refugees.

“I know you are all Sky Mages. Please, take me with you to the stone tower on the peak,” Uli pleaded earnestly. “I can help point the way. I’m old… I can no longer climb the mountain on my own. Let me see it one last time.”

Duncan pondered for a moment before nodding to the Eye of Illusion and the Astrologer. They immediately walked to Elder Uli’s side, each taking one of his arms to support him. Then, they cast a flight spell and flew straight toward the snow-capped peak behind the settlement.

When a combat Spellcaster disregards mana consumption, their flight speed can increase severalfold. Even while carrying someone, it took them less than an hour to arrive near the stone beacon tower on the summit.

The stone tower before them was indeed identical to the one depicted on the animal-hide scroll. It was constructed entirely from massive rocks from the snowy mountain, wider at the base and tapering toward the top. The spiral staircase ascending it was not inside the tower but built directly onto the exterior wall, suspended in the air. Any mortal who couldn’t use flight spells and happened to slip and fall from the stairs would likely plummet from the high cliff to their death, shattered to pieces.

“This tower… is it really thousands of years old?” the Eye of Illusion asked in disbelief. “After so long, shouldn’t it have collapsed by now, battered by the wind and rain?”

Elder Uli’s expression was a little dazed. “In any case, we don’t have the ability to repair it. It seems to have been this way since it was first built.”

Duncan nodded, pointing at the spiral stone steps on the tower’s exterior and speculating, “Building the climbing stairs on the outside is clearly illogical… I suspect there must be a special array set up by ancient wizards inside the tower to ensure its long-term stability and help it endure the ravages of time.”

But common protective arrays required mana to be maintained, just as a fire needs a constant supply of firewood to keep burning. Once the mana was depleted over time with no one to replenish it, the array would naturally lose its effect.

“But how has the tower’s protective array been maintained over such a long time?” The Eye of Illusion wore a curious expression, rubbing his hands together in eagerness. “Teacher, why don’t we… break an opening in the tower base and go inside to investigate!”

“You can’t!” Elder Uli quickly spread his arms to stop them. “This has been our tribe’s mission to protect and uphold for thousands of years! What if there truly comes a day when it needs to be lit? If you’re going to damage it, you might as well kill me first!”

The Eye of Illusion couldn’t help but facepalm. The mana fluctuation emanating from the old Mage was extremely faint, even weaker than that of the few students beside him back in the village. He was a mid-rank Mage whose body was failing and whose mana was depleted—the non-combatant type. It would be entirely possible to restrain him and force their way into the tower.

Duncan, however, shook his head gently at him. “Don’t be reckless. This is no ordinary stone beacon tower. What if we damage the internal array structure and cause it to be unable to be lit ever again…”

The Astrologer, catching his teacher’s signal, quickly stepped forward to ease the tension. He asked the furious Elder Uli in a gentle voice, “Elder, back at the settlement, I heard you say… you used to come here often in your youth. Do you need to stand guard here at all times, ready to light it? How exactly is it lit?”

Elder Uli rolled his eyes and huffed, “Hmph! Of course we don’t need to guard it at all times. On the day of the full moon, we send the tribe’s warriors to climb up here. They only need to stand guard for one night and observe if there are any anomalies in the sky. Naturally, I came here many times when I was young.”

He pointed a finger at the beacon platform on the top of the tower and explained, “It’s called a beacon tower, but it’s not actually lit with wood and oil… It relies on a giant crystal stone at the top. By moving it to a certain angle, it can refract a brilliant light that illuminates the entire sky… Ahem, of course, I only heard this described by the previous clan elder. I’ve never had the chance to see it myself.”

This description naturally piqued the trio’s curiosity. They immediately pulled him along and flew to the top of the beacon tower, a platform less than thirty square meters in size. There, they indeed saw the giant crystal stone, firmly fixed in a stone socket in the center of the platform.

The Astrologer stepped forward to observe it closely, then took out the crystal ball magic artifact he always carried and clicked his tongue in amazement. “This is a complete Starfall Crystal! By the Arcane! This is the main material used for making astrolabes. The one in my hand has been passed down in my family for generations, and it’s only the size of a fist…”

The Eye of Illusion couldn’t help but quietly tease, “It’s a good thing those old geezers from your Astrologer’s Association didn’t see this. Otherwise, they’d probably snatch it from these refugees by force…”

Those ancient wizards were truly extravagant. For a mere beacon tower used for observation and warning, they had generously used such a rare magic crystal—and such a massive raw stone at that.

Duncan’s mind, however, was not on this at all. He continued to press Elder Uli, “You send your clansmen up here to stand guard on the night of the full moon… tell me, what is this anomaly in the sky you mentioned?”

Seeing that the three of them truly showed no greed for the crystal stone, Elder Uli nodded in satisfaction. He then looked up at the sun, which had already sunk to the edge of the horizon, and smiled. “Just wait a little longer. You’ve come at a very opportune time… tonight is the night of the full moon.”

He cautiously stood on his tiptoes to look down from the tower and saw a squad from the settlement below. They had already lit their torches and were slowly making their way up the peak. “Looking down, that must be the night watch team sent up by Bear Mane.”

Duncan nodded. He no longer pressed the question about the celestial phenomenon, instead gesturing for his students to sit cross-legged with him on the windswept top of the beacon tower, quietly waiting for night to fall completely.

…

Not long after the sun had completely sunk below the horizon, a silvery full moon slowly climbed into the sky from behind the western mountains. The temperature on the snowy mountain dropped lower and lower. Elder Uli, dressed in his thick fur robe, was getting too cold to sit still and was just about to urge them to return to the base of the tower to find shelter from the wind.

“Look! Quick… look, what is that!” the Eye of Illusion, who had been lingering by the Starfall Crystal, suddenly cried out, raising his hand to point directly at the sky.

Duncan jerked his head up. There was nothing unusual in the sky except for the full moon. Just as he was about to frown and scold his student for playing a prank, the Astrologer, who had walked over to the Eye of Illusion, also began to tremble slightly.

They were seeing something through the crystal stone!

Duncan reacted instantly. He strode to the crystal stone in two steps, and then he too was left dumbstruck with astonishment.

Through the crystal stone, he was stunned to see a colossal city floating on the horizon to the far north!

The distant night sky was dark and gloomy. Under the light of the silver moon, the edges of the clouds refracted mottled light and shadows. The city’s spectral silhouette flickered in and out of view amidst the mist and clouds, as if it were floating entirely in the heavens.

Chapter 423: Mirage

The city Duncan saw through the Starfall Crystal atop the beacon tower… was of a style he had never seen before. The entire city was composed of countless tightly packed, spindle-shaped spires, and from afar, it looked more like a massive, inverted castle floating in the sky.

“It’s like the Celestial Domain’s Mage Tower in the City of Magic, Araye…” Eye of Illusion murmured in awe, his gaze fixed on the city’s silhouette emerging on the distant horizon.

The Astrologer frowned. “No… The Celestial Domain is just a single mage tower, but this… this is an entire city.”

A mere visual estimate revealed the city was at least hundreds of meters off the ground. To lift an entire city from the earth and raise it into the sky was a feat far beyond mortal means; even a Legendary Caster would find it incredibly difficult.

This was precisely why Araye was known as the City of Miracles—its creators, the human Legendary Casters who had inherited the legacy of the Dragons and founded the Federation… were, in a sense, beings who had transcended the mortal realm.

Duncan was overcome with excitement. The legends passed down through his family and the secrets of their heritage and history he had learned from his conversations with Astaren before their departure flooded his mind—

The ancient Alfred and Hernandez families… and the wizard kingdom they had established deep in the barren lands!

“That has to be the Kingdom of Eternal Night! It must be… the city ruins left behind by the Kingdom of Eternal Night!” Duncan couldn’t help but slap his two students hard on the shoulders, releasing his joy and excitement.

But Elder Uli came over, frowning. “What ruins of Eternal Night? This is just a phantom that appears on the night of a full moon. It’s just a common mirage on the barren lands!”

Duncan was stunned. “A mirage?”

Elder Uli chuckled smugly. “What? Did you think we barren landers have never seen the sea? Farther north, in the frozen lands, there’s a vast underground ice sea. Beneath dozens of meters of thick ice lies a churning subterranean ocean. Most of the phantoms you see are mirages, reflections from the ice surface projected into the sky.”

Eye of Illusion asked doubtfully, “Is this the anomaly in the sky you’re supposed to be observing at all times?”

Uli shook his head. “This is a common phenomenon. Besides massive floating cities… sometimes you can even see the reflections of ice sea whales swimming in the sky…”

The Astrologer also sensed something was off. According to her teacher’s descriptions throughout their journey, the City of Eternal Night, as described by Mr. Astaren, was a grand and magnificent city comparable to the City of Magic, Araye. It would not be like the one before them, which remained indistinct and flickering within dim, heavy clouds.

“Teacher… are the scenes that appear in… a mirage… real places that actually exist?” Eye of Illusion asked in a small voice.

The Astrologer answered decisively before Duncan could. “Of course, most of them are real! A mirage can’t conjure up bizarre things from other dimensions, unless it’s being guided by an external force…”

Before she could finish, Eye of Illusion suddenly shivered. He raised a trembling finger toward the mirage of the city displayed in the sky through the crystal and said, horrified, “In… in the city’s phantom, there’s… there are signs of people moving!”

Duncan quickly moved closer to look. He saw that at some point, a large number of faint, small black shadows had appeared within the phantom of the floating city, as if emerging from the inverted, spindle-shaped spires.

The Kingdom of Eternal Night had fallen nearly three to four hundred years ago. Even if this mirage was a projection of its ruins, there was no way any remnants of the wizard kingdom’s people could still exist within the city—after all, they had been struck by both a natural disaster and a Demon invasion simultaneously. The entire city had suffered a devastating blow, from which it could never have been rebuilt.

“Could it be Demons or vile orcs that have occupied the ruins?” the Astrologer ventured.

Duncan shook his head, pointing at the black shadows flitting endlessly around the city and spires in the mirage. “It can’t be Demons,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve never heard of the Demons being able to gather so many… flying Demonic Ascendants.”

The savage and ignorant vile orcs were even less likely.

Regardless… continuing their exploration northward was essential. With the guidance and revelation provided by this strange mirage, their hopes of finding the ruins of Eternal Night had increased significantly.

“We depart at once…” Duncan said decisively after a moment’s thought. “The mirage appeared directly to the north. This must mean there is some unknown connection.”

He turned to Elder Uli and asked, “Your Excellency, are there any guides in the settlement who are familiar with the frozen lands?”

Elder Uli narrowed his eyes and spoke slowly, “A few of my students once ventured to the edge of the ice sea in the frozen lands. The whale bones they brought back are proof. But… once you leave the snowy mountain and head further north, there are no more human refugee settlements. You should think this through.”

Duncan nodded sincerely. “Whether it’s us… or you, who have guarded this beacon tower on the snowy mountain for so long, please believe me, our ultimate goal is the same. There is a non-human enemy in the north more terrifying than the vile orcs and the Demons… You must have a faint idea of what this beacon tower is for, don’t you?”

Elder Uli sighed. “Say no more. I understand the gravity of the situation… I never imagined that people from the south would take this ethereal ancient legend more seriously than we barren landers… Come down the mountain with me… We’ll pick some suitable guides.”

…

Having used up most of its fuel and supplies, the Airship had plenty of spare carrying capacity. It was enough for Duncan to take on four or five refugee warriors who had been to the frozen ice sea. Among them were two of Elder Uli’s students, who could be considered low-level Spellcasters who had received the heritage of the barren lands’ wizards.

The group spent only one night at the snowy mountain camp. Then, under the dumbfounded gazes of the settlement’s refugees, they ascended into the sky once more and accelerated straight to the north.

Looking back, the majestic snowy mountains rolled away behind them. The vast, endless barren lands gave the exploration team a clear realization: the depths of the barrens they were now in had likely seen no human footsteps for thousands of years.

The Airship continued to fly by day and land by night. Along the way, they supplemented their rations by hunting common beasts and gathering wild fruits. They pushed on northward with great difficulty for about another week.

Strange things soon began to happen…

Logically, the farther north they went, the colder it should have become. Yet, many days after leaving the snowy mountain, the ambient temperature had strangely and noticeably risen. When they landed to make camp at night, the Astrologer and Eye of Illusion even discovered magic herbs in the dense woods near their temporary camp, plants similar to those that only grew in the warm central region of the south. Although there seemed to be some variation, it proved that the temperature anomaly was not a recent phenomenon.

“No need to worry, Lord Wizard,” said the older refugee hunter among the guides, rubbing his hands together as he started a campfire. “The elders of my tribe said… that in this area near the frozen ice sea, there is underground fire that bakes the whole land, making it unusually warm. If it weren’t for the many herds of Demonic beasts that often migrate here to escape the cold, refugee settlements would have moved here to live and thrive long ago.”

Eye of Illusion let out a soft chuckle. “Then this would be a fine place for hunting magical creatures and obtaining precious spellcasting materials.”

“Herds of magical creatures are not to be trifled with. We have an important mission, so don’t get any ideas…”

Before the Astrologer could finish speaking, Duncan, who was sitting directly across from her, suddenly widened his eyes and shouted, “Watch out!”

A black shadow shot out from the dense woods, streaking toward the Astrologer’s back with lightning speed. Although the Astrologer heard her teacher’s warning, she had no time to turn and dodge—it was clearly not an ordinary crossbow bolt or some attack spell. It was too fast.

Like a bullet fired from a Magical Energy Gun!

The instant the black shadow was about to strike the Astrologer’s back, a brilliant, mottled radiance like a dense layer of scales suddenly materialized there. The black shadow collided with the illusory armor formed by the glowing scales and vanished without a sound.

The Astrologer spat out a mouthful of blood. The crystal ball in her arms rolled to the ground, already shattered into several pieces.

Chapter 424: Night Raiders

The very instant the Astrologer was injured and fell, the Eye of Illusion and Duncan unleashed their instant-cast spells, shooting them toward the dense forest from which the dark shadow had come.

The Arcane Storm and Magical Energy Missiles were incredibly fast and covered a small area, making them most effective against hidden enemies launching a surprise attack.

The sound of the magical bombardment echoed through the dense woods. After the dust and smoke from shattered trees and flying dirt settled, the enemy they expected to see was nowhere in sight.

A young refugee guide rushed to the Astrologer’s side, bending down to help her up and drag her into a makeshift tent for cover. Then, another dark shadow attacked silently from a different direction.

In the blink of an eye, the shadow pierced the young guide’s chest. The force was so great that it sent him flying, pinning him to the thick trunk of a tree by the campfire.

Only then did the people gathered around the fire get a clear look at the weapon used in the attack—

It was a thick, long crystalline spike, as black as ink!

Black and White quickly finished their preparations. With a wave of their hands, they each released a dark-green bee-falcon kingfisher from their sleeves. The birds circled the exploration team, spraying a dense, lingering mist of the Rotting Plague.

This was originally a plague spell favored by Necromancers, but it now served to isolate the hidden enemy. It would be somewhat effective; no matter which direction the enemy charged from, they would inevitably have to pass through the wall of mist created by the Rotting Plague.

The Eye of Illusion rubbed his hands together, about to bend and press them to the ground to cast a force-field spell, when three distorted humanoid shadows slowly emerged from the dark woods. The sight nearly made him forget his incantation, freezing him on the spot.

Walking straight through the Rotting Plague mist and into the light of the campfire, the enemies were not the Demonic Ascendants or vile orc priests they had expected. Instead, they were three “freaks” whose bodies, similar in build to normal Humans, were entirely encased in a strange shell. The shell was pitch-black, with a dull, uneven surface. It could hardly be called armor; it looked more like a swollen biological hide, covering them from head to toe. Only the joints were slightly bulging and distorted.

The strangest part was their helmets. A single, large, dark black crystal was embedded where their facial features should be, covering their faces. Extending to the sides of their heads near their ears were two deep-red sacs, rhythmically contracting and expanding with their breathing.

On their backs, the freaks carried rusty metal cylinders. Two grimy leather tubes extended from the cylinders, connecting to their wrists. As one of them raised a hand and pointed, a stream of extremely thick black liquid shot out from its wrist. The moment it hit the air, it instantly solidified into a long, sharp, black crystalline spike.

This was the weapon they used to launch their silent surprise attack from the woods!

The long, black spike shot towards the Eye of Illusion, who was standing at the front. But in the next second, it abruptly changed direction, plunging into the ground and dissolving into a puddle of black water. A silvery-white vortex swirled in the Eye of Illusion’s pupils; he had used force-field magic to alter the spike’s trajectory.

A loud grinding of metal erupted from Duncan’s entire body. In just over ten seconds, he shapeshifted into a massive werewolf, a full three meters tall. From his once hairy flanks, two long metal blades now protruded, extending from his back. His lower body was completely replaced by mechanical beast-like legs instead of flesh and blood limbs, with knees that bent backward unnaturally, and toe structures resembling those of a scaled animal.

The instant the werewolf-Mage charged the enemy, the Eye of Illusion turned and shouted to the two regular guides, “Take the Astrologer to the airship’s Gondola!”

At the same time, the experienced Illusionist had already slammed into one enemy with tremendous force, sending it flying. Twisting on his powerful mechanical lower limbs, he spun around and slashed at another enemy’s side with the metal blades from his flanks, precisely severing the tubes connecting the cylinder on its back to its wrist.

He had figured out how the enemy produced the black crystalline spikes and intended to cut off the source of the silent weapons. Thick black water gushed onto the ground.

The Eye of Illusion couldn’t cast shapeshifting magic instantly, but his mastery of both force-field magic and Arcane Energy magic was not to be underestimated. A transparent, rapidly spinning vortex of air quickly formed in his palm, pulling several shards of rock up from the ground around him. They whirled like bullets, shooting towards the enemy.

The shapeshifted werewolf Duncan leaped, landing heavily on a thick tree trunk. He twisted his waist and swung his arm down in a powerful arc, striking the enemy’s shoulder and neck. However, he didn’t decapitate the creature, whose head was encased in the crystal mask, as he had expected.

The sharp blades, forged from enchanted metal and Phantomlight Copper, only left a shallow dent on the enemy’s shell, having as little effect as a blunt object striking tough leather.

He faltered for a moment, then heard the Eye of Illusion’s urgent warning, “Teacher, get out of the way!”

The werewolf Mage instinctively ducked, pushing off with his legs and sliding back several meters. A dense, rain-like shower of small black crystalline spikes fell from the sky, landing exactly where he had just been standing.

Duncan focused his gaze and realized that the black pus that had spilled onto the ground from the severed tubes had somehow lifted into the air. Under the control of one of the enemies, it had launched a surprise attack on him.

It was silent… Not a single trace of mana fluctuation could be detected. Its speed was like a bullet fired from a Magical Energy Gun. If his partner hadn’t shouted a warning in advance, he never would have been able to dodge it, no matter how much combat experience he had.

What sent an even colder chill down Duncan’s spine was that the splatters of black liquid that had unintentionally landed on his body during the fight had, at some point, turned into fine, steel-like needles and were madly burrowing into his body as if they were alive.

Unless his entire body was converted into a sturdy, enchanted alchemical prosthetic body… there would be no way to defend against these strange black crystal spikes!

The enemy in the center flicked its wrist, and the splattering black liquid transformed into a long whip, as supple as a venomous snake. The Eye of Illusion thrust his palms downward and then upward; the soft earth instantly solidified into a sturdy stone slab that flew up to block the incoming black whip.

Dust and debris flew as the stone slab shattered. The last enemy, who had yet to act, gripped a spear formed from the black water with both hands and charged toward the Eye of Illusion’s rear flank as he struggled to defend with the stone slabs. After just two steps, it staggered. Its head, hidden behind the crystal mask, instinctively looked back. It discovered that the guide who had been pinned to the tree by a black crystal spike at the beginning of the fight had somehow come back to life. With red eyes and a deathly aura, the guide was now on the ground, clinging tightly to its legs.

The freak shook its hands, and the black water spear instantly changed shape into a battle-axe. It twisted its wrists and swung down, about to sever the Living Corpse’s arms and head…

But the Living Corpse’s skin suddenly turned blue and bloated. With a bang, its entire body exploded. Hiding nearby, Michel had detonated the Corpse Explosion seed he had planted in the Living Corpse he controlled.

The axe-wielding enemy was thrown back by the corpse explosion, tumbling into the dense forest and disappearing from sight.

Michel, hiding behind a tent, stood up. Muttering an incantation, he was about to “reassemble” his “comrade,” now scattered across the ground in fragments of bone and flesh, and wrap himself in a layer of flesh and bone armor…

Suddenly, a black spike shot out from the dense woods, piercing straight through his shoulder and into the tent behind him. With his shoulder instantly perforated, Michel fell backward to the ground, blood gushing from the massive wound.

Chapter 425: The Ruins of Eternal Night (Part 1)

Michel the Necromancer cried out as he spewed a mouthful of blood, struggling on the ground, unable to get up.

The brothers Black and White, who had been guarding the Airship, rushed over. One of them wiped a hand over Michel’s shoulder and stuffed a grayish-white lump of flesh into the hole that had been pierced through him. This was a form of the Necromancer’s flesh magic, which turned the flesh around a wound into a state of decay and withering, quickly staunching heavy bleeding for a short time.

But Michel’s wound had clearly affected his lungs. A fine, pinkish foam of blood trickled constantly from his mouth and nose. Though he was conscious, he had completely lost his ability to fight.

Duncan, the werewolf Mage, swiped his claws to beat back the enemy wielding a whip of black water. Then, he abruptly threw his head back and let out a deafening howl. When the enemy, whose leathery tubes he had severed, once again controlled a dense volley of crystalline spikes and charged at him, he met it head-on without any regard for his own safety.

His gaping, blood-red maw opened, and a blast of pearly-white, frigid frost erupted from his wolfish mouth. As the enemy’s rain of crystalline needles struck his lupine body, the thick frost completely enveloped his opponent.

When the dust settled, the hide-covered monster was revealed, frozen into a human-shaped pillar of ice. Its posture was fixed in the act of controlling the crystalline spikes, arms outstretched. Although it was impossible to tell if it had been frozen to death on the spot, it would certainly be unable to thaw and escape for some time. Even the crimson sacs behind its ears no longer pulsed as if breathing.

Having clashed head-on with the enemy, Duncan let out a pained grunt. His entire body was covered in a dense pattern of tiny wounds, and the grayish-white fur on his chest was matted with blood. Only his mechanically modified lower limbs were unharmed, without so much as a scratch from the crystalline spikes.

The blade-wielding monster that had been sent flying into the woods by a corpse explosion returned to the battlefield. Seeing its companion frozen into a pillar of ice, it remained silent. It ignored its other companion with the long whip, which was now being besieged by the werewolf Mage and the Eye of Illusion. Instead, it began to form black crystalline spikes of its own and charged toward the Airship.

Only Black and White were there to guard it. Michel and the Astrologer were too seriously injured to fight, and Elder Uli’s two students were only Novice Spellcasters who hadn’t even studied instant-casting. They were no match for this hide-covered monster.

Black was prepared. His lips moved silently, rapidly chanting an incantation. His muscles suddenly bulged, his skin turned an ashen gray, and his eyes glowed red as heavy, hoarse gasps escaped his mouth. He had temporarily transformed himself into a Living Corpse, which not only granted him a huge boost in strength but also covered his skin in a hard, keratinous layer of protection.

The transformed Black managed to block the blade-wielding enemy. During the struggle, White, who worked in perfect sync with him, saw an opening and struck the enemy square in the chest with the single-target spell, Withering Frost.

“Don’t let your guard down! They’re almost immune to magic att—”

Having taken down the whip-wielding monster as quickly as possible with his teacher, the Eye of Illusion quickly turned and shouted a warning.

Before the Eye of Illusion could finish his sentence, the blade-wielding monster that had been hit by the spell merely staggered. Unaffected, it raised its hands, and the long blade of black water instantly transformed into a pair of gauntlets covering its fists. Its movements suddenly became incredibly swift and agile. It darted past the Living Corpse Black, pointed a hand toward the Airship nearby, and a black crystalline spike instantly pierced the neck of one of the refugee guides.

The two remaining refugee wizards did not turn and flee, which would have exposed the two injured people in the Airship’s Gondola to the enemy. Despite not having learned any instant-casting attack spells, they took the small crossbows from their backs and quickly chanted to enchant and empower their bolts.

Two bolts gleaming with magical light shot out, but the gauntlet-wielding monster easily sidestepped them. It kicked one of the guides, sending him flying, then reached out and crushed the other guide’s neck with a sharp crack.

The Eye of Illusion and Duncan arrived. Together, the werewolf and the Living Corpse Black pinned the monster to the ground. With a great effort, they twisted its head—covered in hide and crystalline stone—backwards, and heard the same sharp crack of a breaking spine.

It seemed this thing’s anatomy was similar to a human’s; a broken neck meant instant death.

The transformed Black hurried over to check on the guide who had been kicked away. He found the man lying beside a rock, no longer breathing. The kick had shattered his sternum.

With crimson eyes, Black stomped heavily over to the monster’s corpse. His transformed mind was filled with resentment and rage. He reached out with a thick, ashen arm and clawed at the crystal faceplate on the corpse’s head.

“I want to see what these ambushers really are!”

“Wait! No—” Duncan, having just reverted to his human form and covered in blood, had no time to shout a warning. A blinding red light burst from the crack where the crystal faceplate was being pried open. It spread out like a turbulent torrent of plasma, hitting Black with a crackling roar. A plume of white smoke rose from his body as he fell to the ground, convulsing. Even his tattered robes caught fire.

After the strange red light was released from the monster’s faceplate, the corpse with the broken neck finally went completely still. Even the tough hide covering its body seemed to collapse and shrink, as if it had been emptied from within.

White roared and lunged forward to check on Black, but the Eye of Illusion grabbed him and shook his head. “It’s no use… Don’t touch him. What if that strange red light…”

As he spoke, he exchanged a glance with his teacher, Duncan. Neither of them dared to go check on the monster that had been knocked down by the camp, its condition unknown, nor the frozen human popsicle.

Duncan said decisively, “Start the Airship. We’re leaving, now!”

Judging from the three monsters’ initial attack and their desperate attempts to get close to the Airship, their goal wasn’t simply to kill the team, but to observe the airship.

This meant the exploration team had likely been secretly watched and followed the entire way. The enemy had waited until they landed, set up camp, and let their guard down to finally launch their sneak attack.

“Teacher… which direction should we fly?”

Duncan pondered for a moment, then said coldly, “North… We can’t go back the way we came. We can’t lead these enemies to the snowy mountain camp. That would be a death sentence for all the refugees in the settlement.”

Just before boarding the Airship, the Eye of Illusion and White both looked at Black’s body, charred black and still faintly smoking on the ground. With red-rimmed eyes, they couldn’t stop themselves from dragging him into the Gondola.

Let it be strange if it must… No matter what, they couldn’t abandon a companion from Starfire City in the barren lands, a thousand miles from home. They had to take him back.

As the Airship slowly ascended, the battered team members finally breathed a sigh of relief.

The Eye of Illusion quickly checked on the unconscious Astrologer. He found that when her life-bound magic artifact had activated its protection, the resulting torrent of mana had disrupted the pathways in her body, causing internal injuries from the chaotic energy. She just needed to take a recovery potion they had brought and rest for a few days to be fine.

The external wounds on Duncan and Michel, however, were more troublesome. There was no way to bring a medical alchemical beast from the infirmary on the Airship. The healing potion Egnor had prepared for them was excellent at stopping bleeding, but it wasn’t very effective at closing the wounds… This was especially true for Duncan, whose fleshy parts were all punctured by the strange black crystalline spikes. Fortunately, the things didn’t seem to burrow deep inside the body. Once their controller was incapacitated, the spikes embedded in his wounds immediately turned into droplets of black water and flowed out with his blood.

Duncan sat with his lean, bare torso exposed, letting the Eye of Illusion and White apply medicine to his countless wounds. He said with a wry smile, “If I had known this would happen, I really should have had Lord Harvey replace my whole body with alchemical cybernetics… At least then, during that fight, these damn things wouldn’t have been able to get through my defenses and hinder me.”

He had just finished speaking when Black, who had been lying charred and blackened in the corner, suddenly sat bolt upright. In a raspy voice, he said, “Mr. Duncan… I was thinking the same thing!”

Chapter 426: Ruins of Eternal Night (Part 2)

The completely charred Black suddenly sat up as if rising from the dead, giving everyone on the Airship a huge fright.

White, whose eyes had been red and his spirits low, said with pleasant surprise, “By the spirits of the dead! Your Living Corpse body withstood that bizarre red light’s attack?”

Black grunted twice with a hoarse voice and twitched as he lay back down. As the mana from the Living Corpse transformation faded, the severe burns on his body finally began to register, and he cried out in unbearable pain.

White quickly took out their last few recovery potions and coagulant dressings, carefully applying them all over his body as thoroughly as possible.

The last surviving refugee guide on the Airship was leaning against the Gondola’s observation window when he suddenly cried out in alarm, “Lord Wizard! Look down below!”

Several of them crowded around the observation window and looked down. Not far from the camp where they had just landed, an unknown number of figures were now standing densely packed in a natural forest clearing. A quick count revealed dozens of them.

These people stood silently in place, not uttering a word, their heads tilted back as they stared at the Airship, which was already dozens of meters in the air.

They looked exactly like the hide-covered monsters that had ambushed them earlier…

Just three of the hide-covered monsters had forced Eye of Illusion, a high-level caster; Duncan, whose strength was diminished by his disability, making it difficult for him to cast normally… and three mid-rank Necromancers to fight with all their might, barely escaping at the cost of three guides’ lives.

And now, dozens of these terrifyingly powerful and bizarrely skilled enemies had gathered in the forest below. How could they not break out in a cold sweat?

Eye of Illusion gripped the Gondola’s handrail tightly, his voice strained. “Thankfully… thankfully they can’t fly, or we’d really be…”

Before he could finish, one of the hide-covered monsters on the ground suddenly moved. It raised a hand and pointed at the Airship in the sky. Immediately, two others beside it used their hands to fashion a long, thick javelin from black water. They took a running start, assuming a throwing stance, and then their arms suddenly swelled.

With a whoosh, the two black-water javelins shot toward the Airship like lightning. Their momentum didn’t diminish in the slightest over the dozens of meters, and in an instant, they pierced the Airship’s outer Gasbag above the Gondola, passed clean through the other side, and then fell diagonally to the ground.

The internal compartmented Gasbags were clearly damaged and leaking. The Airship stopped ascending amidst a slight tremor and managed to stabilize, floating motionlessly in mid-air. Even when White pushed the power lever to maximum output, it could still only fly level at a sluggish pace.

“This is bad! They’re attacking the Gasbags!” Duncan, ignoring his many wounds, struggled to his feet, about to use his shapeshifting magic to leap from the Airship again. He had to stop them from throwing more javelins. Otherwise, if more than half of the Airship’s six compartmented Gasbags were ruptured, it would lose all lift and plummet to the ground.

Eye of Illusion took a deep breath. Deciding he couldn’t let his teacher go down alone to fight to the death buying them time, he also reached for the cabin door.

Just then, Michel, who had slowly regained consciousness, weakly reminded them, “The Magical Energy Guns… we brought three Magical Energy Guns!”

Right! The Magical Energy Guns! Even more powerful than the enemy’s black crystalline spikes… a transcendent magical weapon with superior penetration and range!

Eye of Illusion turned and immediately spotted the long, silver metal guns hanging on the Gondola’s weapon rack. He lunged over and grabbed them, tossing one to White and starting to load a magazine based on what he could recall.

To be honest… every member of the expedition team in the Gondola was somewhat resistant to using these weapons. The idea of a terrifying weapon that allowed a mere mortal to easily wield it and go head-to-head with a Spellcaster was something they found deeply unsettling and hard to accept.

This was especially true for a genius Mage like Eye of Illusion. Though he appeared gentle and polite to common people, he was exceptionally arrogant to the core. Forcing him to admit from the bottom of his heart that a magical gun could surpass the magic he had spent countless hours of painstaking effort to master was akin to tying him to one of the Church’s stakes for public execution.

The Magical Energy Gun was cool to the touch, its weight a slight burden in their hands, but at this moment, it gave the two men holding them in the Gondola a tangible sense of security and hope.

Eye of Illusion vaguely recalled that this Type-Three magical gun was slightly different from the Type-Two sniper model he had seen Wayne use. The long barrel wasn’t equipped with alchemical sights. This meant that he and White, who were responsible for operating them, would have to rely on their abysmal, completely unpracticed marksmanship and aiming skills to return fire at the enemies on the ground below.

Another javelin came whistling through the air. Duncan managed to draw on a sliver of mana to conjure two missiles, deflecting it just moments before it could pierce the Airship’s outer Gasbag. But his magical energy, already nearly depleted after using his shapeshifting magic, left him trembling. The consequence of forcibly drawing on his mana was that he could barely even stand.

Eye of Illusion immediately propped the long gun on the edge of the Gondola window. With clumsy movements, he aimed the muzzle at the enemies below and pulled the trigger without hesitation…

With a soft zzzzt, the bullet shot out, accompanied by a faint, almost invisible white light.

Whether it was an extraordinary display of skill born from crisis or simply because the enemy ranks below were too dense, the completely random shot miraculously hit one of the hide-covered monsters. He didn’t know where it hit… but the target clearly shuddered, collapsed to the ground, and didn’t move again.

The Magical Energy Gun could actually pierce the strange hide that even high-rank combat spells couldn’t break!

The gathered enemies below were also clearly startled. They scattered away from their fallen comrade, trying to hide in the parts of the forest shaded by trees.

Only a few enemies remained, stunned in place, their heads, which were covered by crystalline faceplates, still held high. They were still trying to conjure black-water javelins to shoot down the Airship.

Eye of Illusion snorted coldly and fired again… and his pray-and-spray marksmanship immediately showed its true colors. The bullet landed in an empty patch of ground with no one standing within a three-meter radius. It wasn’t even close enough to be called a near miss.

White, who was a step behind him, had just shouldered his gun. Due to his extreme tension and unfamiliarity with the weapon, his finger seemed to lock onto the trigger. With a spray of zzzts, he emptied the magazine toward some unknown direction, failing to hit a single enemy.

“Calm down! Slow down and take them one by one! We don’t have much ammunition!”

Eye of Illusion quickly shouted a reminder, pulling a spare magazine from his pouch and tossing it to the Necromancer, who fumbled to reload.

On his second attempt, White finally got a feel for it. By sheer luck, he hit the metal canister on the back of one of the monsters with a bang. For some reason, this triggered a violent explosion and fire. Flames instantly erupted from the enemy’s back, engulfing his entire body. After a brief, intense combustion that lasted only a few seconds… all that remained on the ground was a black and yellow stain of what might have been oil or pus.

“The bullets can detonate the canisters of black water!” Eye of Illusion exclaimed with delight. “Aim for the big canisters on their backs! That stuff is extremely flammable—it’s practically no different from Dragon’s Flame powder!”

Seeing that the Magical Energy Guns’ counterattack was effective, even the severely injured Michel struggled to his feet, picked up the last remaining long gun, and leaned against the window to aim and fire down below as best he could.

Under the relentless barrage of bullets, the hide-covered monsters on the ground finally seemed to realize the strength of the counterattack from the Airship above. Silently and without a sound, they slowly retreated, disappearing into the depths of the dark forest with a rustling sound.

Finally getting a chance to breathe, the group ceased their attack. They operated the cables to pull the damaged compartmented Gasbags into the cabin and repaired them with the pre-prepared rubber fruit patches.

After being re-inflated, the Airship finally regained its lift and shakily ascended higher into the sky…

Chapter 427: The Ruins of Eternal Night (Part 2)

The exploration team, having narrowly escaped from a large number of strange enemies, no longer dared to land and rest on the ground at night. Relying on the last dregs of their Airship’s fuel, they flew north, heading straight for the edge of the ice sea in the frozen lands.

Eye of Illusion handed a can of food, heated on a portable stove, to the last surviving refugee guide. He asked in a deep voice, “To avoid leading those strange enemies near the snowy mountain camp… we probably won’t be returning the way we came. But we won’t abandon you. After we complete our exploration mission, come back with us to Starfire City at the foot of the Spine of the Gods Mountains, alright?”

The young guide silently took the food and nodded, his voice muffled. “If even Lord Wizards as powerful as you… can’t easily defeat those strange people, our settlement has no hope of resisting them. I… I’m willing to follow you, My Lords, back to your city. That miraculous weapon that can kill the hide-covered monsters… it could let me avenge my kinsmen and my brother!”

Of the four refugees Elder Uli had dispatched to guide the exploration team, one of those killed in battle had been his blood brother.

Duncan leaned against the Gondola’s observation window, pointing to a suddenly appearing open area to the due north. “Is that the ice sea of the frozen lands?” he asked in surprise.

Everyone looked toward the distance and realized that the Airship was, without them noticing, about to leave the endless, dense forest of the barren lands. Not far ahead was a desolate expanse, almost completely barren, like a vast, boundless white desert.

The guide nodded. “That’s right, the ice sea is just ahead. It may look like a boundless expanse of snow, but it’s actually an underground sea covered by an ice layer over ten meters thick. If we fly a little further in… we’ll even see sea spring vents, where seawater breaks through the ice and erupts from the ground, forming massive ice caves several hundred meters in diameter.”

The Astrologer, who had recovered significantly, frowned and reminded them, “Teacher, the Airship is running low on fuel. If we don’t find the ruins of the Kingdom of Eternal Night soon, we’ll have to choose a suitable temporary base to set up the Magic Net teleportation array and request supplies from Starfire City.”

The more seriously injured Michel and Black also needed more magic potions to ensure their wounds wouldn’t worsen during the return journey. As long as they could make it back to Starfire City, with the combined treatment of the Medical-type alchemical beasts and the Academy of Sciences, they would naturally heal up good as new.

“Three days… We’ll fly deeper into the ice sea for three more days. The remaining fuel we have can support five days of continuous flight. We won’t land at night to save fuel anymore.”

Although the ice sea was vast and endless, the silver lining was the unobstructed view with no ground cover. Those hide-covered monsters that had been tracking them would have nowhere to hide for another ambush.

…

Flying over the ice sea offered no landmarks for reference. The exploration team had to constantly assign people to take turns controlling the flight direction, repeatedly checking the due north bearing on the compass.

It wasn’t until the afternoon of the third day that White, who was on watch, faintly saw a strange elevated landform clearly protruding from the ice in the distance.

“Mr. Duncan! Look!” White pointed at the pile of white rocks rising from the ice several kilometers away. “Could that be a sea spring vent? We can pick a flat area with higher elevation there to set up a temporary base for the teleportation array!”

As they patiently maneuvered the Airship closer, they discovered that what lay before them was not a sea spring vent at all… but a massive sinkhole, many times larger than a sea spring’s ice cave, resembling a giant crater left after a volcanic eruption.

At the bottom of the crater, the seawater surged and crashed, endlessly pounding against the circular walls. The water was so dark it was almost black, its bottom impossible to see, and looking down from high above was incredibly unsettling.

The Airship carefully adjusted its course and slowly descended onto a flat area. Duncan led the members of the exploration team out of the Gondola and approached the edge of the sinkhole to observe.

“This… this is definitely not a sea spring vent.” The young guide shook his head vigorously. “The appearance of a sea spring means there’s a thermal spring at the bottom of the ice sea in this area. The erupting seawater has a higher temperature, which is how it melts the thick ice…”

But the huge crater before them, several kilometers in diameter, could not possibly have been formed by a thermal spring alone. It looked more like it had collapsed during a terrifyingly powerful earthquake.

Duncan gazed at the deep, surging seawater below. After a moment of contemplation, he said decisively, “Let’s set up the teleportation array here. At least the terrain around the crater is elevated, which will make it easier for us to watch for any enemies.”

Following his command, the team quickly took out the components of the teleportation array from the Airship’s Gondola. After setting up a temporary camp with tents, they began to assemble the Magic Net teleportation array inside the largest one.

They were busy until near dusk when a rhythmic tidal sound suddenly came from the massive crater. Everyone hurried to the edge to look—they found that the churning water in the crater had stopped and was slowly beginning to recede.

“How strange. To think this underground ice sea has a normal tidal phenomenon, and one so bizarre, with the entire sea level dropping.” Eye of Illusion marveled, craning his neck to look down.

Only here, deep in the remote and uninhabited barren lands, far from the south, could they witness such a peculiar sight, one they might never see again in their lifetimes. It made the arduous and perilous journey feel worthwhile.

But gradually, they noticed something was amiss at the bottom of the crater. As the tide receded faster and faster, a large expanse of jagged reefs slowly emerged from the inky, deep bottom. The shape of the reefs was surprisingly regular, like stone pillars that had been polished by a craftsman.

“Those aren’t reefs!” Duncan stared intently downwards. “The stone pillars emerging from the bottom of the crater are clearly man-made… they look… they look like the base of a tall tower!”

As soon as he finished speaking, both Eye of Illusion and the Astrologer shuddered, exclaiming in disbelief, “Could… could this be the legendary ruins of the City of Eternal Night?”

But… weren’t the ruins destroyed in the Demon invasion? How could they have sunk into the frozen lands’ sea?

Wait! Mr. Astaren had mentioned that the City of Eternal Night had first experienced an irresistible and terrifying natural disaster, and only then did the Demons take advantage of the weakness to launch a massive invasion, leading to its complete annihilation.

But back then, Mr. Astaren, with his “lowly status” as a half-blood vampire, had always lived on the fringes of the City of Eternal Night. When the disaster struck, he had bizarrely received news in advance and, through his family’s arrangements, escaped the area ahead of time.

This very likely meant that the disaster was not natural at all… but man-made!

Could this so-called “natural disaster”… have been the entire city sinking into the underground sea overnight?

Chapter 428: The Disaster of the Land-Sea

The group stood at the edge of the immense sinkhole, stunned and unable to recover their senses for a long time.

Eye of Illusion swallowed hard and asked in a hoarse voice, “Teacher… the tide has completely receded. Are we… are we going down to take a look?”

Before Duncan could answer, the Astrologer interjected in a solemn tone, “We can’t go down recklessly! Not to mention the potential unknown dangers in the ruins, the Airship’s fuel is critically low. We must first request aid from Starfire City and then report the discovery of potential ruins of the Kingdom of Eternal Night to City Lord Harvey.”

Duncan pondered for a moment, then nodded in approval. “Good point. The ruins are at the bottom of the pit. The tide rises and falls with the morning and evening, so they’ll naturally be exposed. We shouldn’t act rashly tonight. Let’s report the situation and then decide.”

This way, they could also arrange for people to observe and calculate the frequency and timing of the tides from the edge of the sinkhole, to avoid any accidents when they did go down to the ruins.

Eye of Illusion muttered under his breath, “If the City Lord finds out, he definitely won’t let us go down directly. With his cautious personality, he’ll most likely send a few reconnaissance-type alchemical beasts… and then we won’t get a chance to see the legendary ruins of the Kingdom of Eternal Night with our own eyes…”

…

After dinner, Harvey returned to his study-slash-office on the second floor of the castle as usual, preparing to stay up all night to handle the recent backlog of municipal affairs.

He had just reviewed a few piled-up documents when the sharp didi di of the central Magic Brain device sounded—this wasn’t the usual Forum notification he ignored, but a message from the exploration squad he had been anxiously waiting for!

According to the arrangement made before the squad departed, messages sent at noon each day were normal daily reports, which would be received and handled by a dedicated personal guard assigned by Harvey… but messages sent outside this fixed time would bypass the personnel on duty and be transmitted directly to Harvey’s central Magic Brain.

Astaren, who always stayed by Harvey’s side even when “on standby,” immediately had his soul fire brighten in his eyes. He strode over from his quiet spot by the wall and opened the device before Harvey could even stand up.

[Wolfwalker: My lord, an urgent report! In a region deep within the frozen wastes known as the ice sea, we have discovered what appears to be the ruins of the Kingdom of Eternal Night.]

Seeing the direct message, Astaren froze for a moment and subconsciously turned to look at his City Lord.

Harvey sighed and said in a low voice, “You talk to them…”

[Soul of Alchemy: This is Astaren. The City Lord is right beside me… What is your current situation? Regarding the unknown attack a few days ago, is the enemy still following you?]

[Wolfwalker: Fortunately, the Airship is too fast. They can’t catch up… The frozen ice sea is vast, so it’s easy to spot any sign of the enemy. We can still manage to evade them for now…]

Duncan truthfully reported the basic condition of the two injured members in the team, requested an additional batch of magical potions to treat injuries and relieve pain, and, somewhat to Harvey’s surprise, also asked for more ammunition for the Magical Energy Guns… specifically, the “Dragon’s Flame version” with its greater range and power.

“It seems these Spellcaster gentlemen… after encountering a mysterious and powerful enemy, have finally recognized the difference in consumption between their own mana and magical energy weapons. They’re willing to set aside their prejudices and embrace magical Science…”

Harvey nodded, raised a hand to summon a personal guard, and ordered him to go to the Alchemy Laboratory immediately and have Chris, who was on standby, prepare the return fuel and supplementary supplies to be sent to the exploration squad.

[Soul of Alchemy: So, how do you plan to confirm that the ruins in the sinkhole are indeed from the Kingdom of Eternal Night?]

[Wolfwalker: Naturally, we’ll descend to the bottom of the pit and enter the ruins to explore during the interval between the tides… We’ll try our best to bring back some fragments from the ruins and use the teleportation array to return them to Starfire City for you to identify.]

Through the brief exchange, Harvey and Astaren quickly grasped the general situation regarding the sinkhole in the ice sea and the unknown ruins where the squad was located.

Astaren was silent for a moment before sighing wistfully, “My lord, I don’t think much verification is needed. In fact, aside from the City of Eternal Night, there were no other Wizard Kingdoms established by Humans on the frozen ice sea…”

Although being trapped in amber for several hundred years had caused Astaren, a half-blood vampire, to lose many memories, leaving him with only a few distinct fragments of his life in the City of Eternal Night, the gist of it should be correct.

Harvey asked, puzzled, “The City of Eternal Night was built on the ice of this subterranean sea? How did you manage that? Was it a city built from giant blocks of ice?”

Astaren shook his head and said with a wry smile, “Not exactly. The city was built on a massive island that rose from the seabed of the ice sea. The entire island was made of incredibly hard rock. Our ancestors carved the natural rock directly, using the island as the city’s foundation.”

“I see… But that’s just too much trouble.” Harvey was still a bit confused. “Why did your ancestors and family insist on building a solitary city on the ice sea, deep in the Northern Barren Lands, so far from the human homelands and at such great expense of manpower and resources… Could there be something there…”

He hadn’t finished his sentence when his body suddenly stiffened. His eyes widened as he looked at Astaren. “An outpost! It was a massive outpost city! Built to stand on the very front line of the Humans… to monitor the non-human race enemies from the [continental heartland] in advance!”

An outpost city, built and defended entirely by combat-type Spellcasters, dedicated to resisting and monitoring the movements of the non-human races!

To think that long before the Federation, the Spellcasters of humanity had already shouldered the arduous task of guarding their people and confronting the non-human races!

Duncan silently closed the crystal screen of the Magic Brain device, turned to the exploration squad members waiting by his side, and said with a small smile, “Just as you all expected… Lord Harvey does not agree to us personally going down to the bottom of the pit to explore the interior of the ruins.”

Eye of Illusion pouted, a look of “I knew it” on his face. “See… the City Lord is just that cautious. We’ve already risked so much to get here, what’s there to be afraid of trying?”

Duncan coughed twice, shot a glare at his tactless student, and stood up. “To the Magic Net teleportation array. We’re preparing to receive the supplies from Starfire City!”

…

After a buzzing sound from the temporary Magic Brain teleportation array, a large pile of supplies made of crates and metal containers suddenly emerged in the center of the array, which was a few meters square.

Duncan walked forward without a word and personally pried open one of the supply crates.

“Huh? This… these aren’t fuel canisters for the Airship!” Eye of Illusion was dumbfounded, staring blankly at the neatly arranged array components and magical materials in the crate. “Aren’t these the construction materials for another teleportation circle?”

Duncan nodded, picked up the complete set of array blueprints included in the crate, and said in a low voice, “After extensive discussions with the City Lord and the chief advisor… we’re going to use the materials supplied by the teleportation array to build a small energy-gathering array right here… and then construct a large-scale Magic Net teleportation array that can provide a stable transport channel!”

Chapter 429: Exploration Base and Permanent Fortifications

Following the low hum of the Magic Net teleportation array activating, the space at the center of the array pattern suddenly distorted for a moment. Then, a tall, humanoid figure made of metal and machinery appeared in the middle.

“Mr. Astaren! You… you came in person?” the Eye of Illusion cried out in surprise.

The soul fire that had been extinguished in Astaren’s eyes slowly rekindled. He paused for a long while before speaking. “For a two-way teleportation over such a great distance, it was necessary for me to enter the transport channel first to test its stability…”

If the Magic Net’s transport channel became unstable, an alchemical lifeform like him could at least wait for rescue. The soul beacon he’d leave behind in the Magic Net space could be quickly located by Harvey, his “creator,” and at worst, his essence could be re-collected and placed into a new body.

Duncan took a step forward and smiled. “Did the City Lord send you to oversee the construction of the exploration base?”

Astaren let out a rare, wry laugh. He turned to the side, reached into the void at the center of the array, and pulled out a pale, tall, and slender figure.

It was Harvey, controlling his soul puppet, who had also teleported over in person.

“City Lord? This… this is far too risky! This area hasn’t been fully explored yet. There could still be unknown dangers!”

Harvey moved the puppet’s limbs a little stiffly, then followed with a laugh. “It’s just a puppet. You are the ones truly putting yourselves in danger. You’re all far braver than I am…”

As he stepped out of the teleportation array, the small, temporarily constructed energy-gathering array behind him suddenly erupted with intense mana fluctuations, and the array began to operate at full speed once more…

One living, humanoid figure after another appeared in the center of the array, followed by a large quantity of various materials and supplies—the City Lord had actually brought an entire engineering team!

Many of the ordinary engineers had never experienced a continental-level teleportation array before. Upon arrival, they knelt on the ground in pain, retching uncontrollably. The few who remained steady were still dizzy and unsteady on their feet for a long time.

The accompanying medical personnel quickly took out various potions from their briefcases and distributed them to the crowd. The dizziness caused by using the continental teleportation array was similar to the “airsickness” from riding an Airship; a simple dose of a mild, mind-soothing drug was all that was needed.

A medic, who was clearly also a half-elf, walked over to White and asked, “Where are the two injured members of the exploration team? We’ll give them some preliminary treatment. Once their conditions stabilize, we’ll send them back to the city through the teleportation array for further care.”

White was overjoyed and quickly led the medical team back to the Airship’s gondola to check on Black’s and Michel’s injuries.

The last group to emerge from the teleportation array was one that made everyone present feel a surge of security—battle-hardened soldiers of the Northern Army, commanded by officers who were Bloodline Warriors. There were two full battalions, nearly three hundred men in total.

Duncan let out a sigh of relief and said to Harvey in a low voice, “If I hadn’t just been attacked by those bizarre enemies, I would still believe that the abilities of a Spellcaster far surpass those of these ordinary soldiers under your command…”

But now, after a series of thrilling adventures, the master of shapeshifting magic had finally realized that an individual’s power, in some respects, could not contend with the strength of a collective. As long as there was no leap in their level of existence, Spellcasters, who were still mortal, were no match for the human-wave tactics empowered by magical technology.

Harvey smiled reassuringly. “That’s precisely what I came to discuss with you… I have strong reason to suspect that the hide-covered monsters that attacked you might be the legendary non-human enemies from the 【continental heartland】.”

Hearing this, the Eye of Illusion slapped his thigh in regret. “If we had known, we would have done everything in our power to bring back one of the monster’s corpses. At least then we would know what they truly look like.”

As they spoke, the engineering team was already directing alchemical beasts to set up a temporary camp. The soldiers of the Northern Army had also split into groups, with some responsible for security, some assisting the engineers with surveying the surroundings, and others continuing to receive personnel at the teleportation array… All the work proceeded in a methodical and orderly fashion.

It was as if Harvey’s mere presence, even in the depths of the barren lands thousands of kilometers from human nations, had given everyone a pillar of support to rely on. They showed no fear in exploring and developing this unfamiliar land, surrounded by potential enemies.

Harvey stood before a conference table, staring at a quickly drawn, simple map of the surrounding area, and analyzed with a frown, “We’ll put aside the matter of exploring the ruins at the bottom of the pit for now. Our primary task… is to rapidly establish a permanent forward fortification right here!”

He pointed a finger at the center of the map, at the massive crater that covered an area comparable to half the pioneer territories, and continued in a deep voice, “The ancient wizard ancestors who built a city here to monitor the movements of the non-human races to the north must have also recognized that this vast icefield offers a wide field of vision and serves as an essential buffer zone between the continental heartland and the human nations of the south…”

Since it was a natural geographical advantage, they, as successors, could naturally continue to make use of it.

Astaren said with some concern, “But this place is too far from our main base. Just teleporting this small amount of supplies and personnel consumes an amount of mana comparable to the energy consumption of a magical munitions factory. Maintaining a permanent outpost here… is truly a bottomless pit.”

Harvey nodded in agreement, but his tone was resolute. “No matter the cost in manpower and resources, it must be done… For this, I am even willing to postpone the summer offensive against the southern nations. The proactive defense plan in the north takes absolute priority.”

He paused, then summoned the engineering director in charge of the site. Unrolling a more detailed construction blueprint, he smiled at the group. “Besides… I don’t intend to have all our supplies teleported from Starfire City. Where we can source materials locally to save on consumption, we naturally should.”

The Eye of Illusion said, dumbfounded, “Source materials locally? My lord… not a blade of grass grows on this vast icefield! We can’t be planning to fish out fragments of the City of Eternal Night’s ruins from the pit and reuse them, can we?”

The engineering director, a man with a thick beard who was clearly a native of the barren lands, let out a hearty laugh. He stomped his foot on the solid ground. “Mr. Spellcaster, can’t you see? There are materials all around us, right under our feet!”

Ice… the ice sheet?

Harvey glanced around and saw the bewildered expressions on everyone’s faces. Only then did he slowly smile. “That’s right. I plan to cut directly into the ice sheet beneath our feet and use this solid ice, which hasn’t melted for tens of millions of years in the ice sea, to build an equally sturdy exploration base.”

At a nod from Harvey, the engineering director pointed to the base construction blueprint and began to explain effusively—the base would be built against the edge of the pit, with defensive walls and watchtowers on three sides. The interior of the base didn’t need to be too large, but it would be fully equipped with temporary living quarters for soldiers, workers, and technicians, warehouses for food and supplies, an armory, and, at its core, the energy-gathering array and the continental teleportation array. A powered elevator operated by an alchemical device would also be installed at the edge of the pit to facilitate subsequent descents into the ruins for exploration.

“An engineering project of this scale… how long will it take?” Duncan still felt that the hide-covered monsters were lurking nearby and felt a sense of unease.

Harvey said with full confidence, “Building the base fortifications with solid ice… will only take three days. With such an excellent building material, we don’t even need to wait for it to dry like cement or concrete.”

Chapter 430: Archaeological Expedition

Harvey and Astaren stood side by side on the edge of the massive sinkhole, watching the engineering team bustling about as they finished the final adjustments on the power lift.

“Now I can be one hundred percent certain this is indeed the site of the City of Eternal Night’s ruins…” Astaren sighed wistfully. “These massive stone pillars and broken foundations that have sunk into the sea are clearly built from Frost Rock, which is only found in the tundra near the ice sea. I couldn’t possibly mistake it.”

Harvey was also filled with emotion, but he couldn’t help but ask in puzzlement, “How did your ancestors manage it back then? Unlike me, who took a shortcut by building the city with solid ice, they used real, quarried stone.”

And they did it without a vast number of alchemical beasts to assist in the construction. It was incredible just thinking about it.

Astaren gave a wry smile. “My lord, for a wizard family like mine, the number of mortal vassals under our command alone was comparable to an army. Besides, that was near the end of the Dragon War, and many wizard organizations had enslaved large populations. They could build a new city through sheer manpower.”

Harvey pursed his lips and didn’t continue the topic. He had always been contemptuous of such corrupt, old-fashioned, and backward methods of production.

Duncan hurried over with his two students. After placing a hand on his chest and bowing to Harvey, he said, “Your Excellency, the City Lord, the lift has been calibrated. At low tide this evening… on behalf of the exploration team, I request permission for the first expedition into the ruins!”

Harvey was taken aback for a moment. “Didn’t I say to send the smaller Wolf Spider Beasts down first to scout the path? We should only consider sending people after we’re sure it’s safe…”

“My lord, Wolf Spider Beasts moving in a pack could easily and unintentionally damage the structural stability of the ruins’ interior. It would be a problem if they caused a collapse,” Astaren said, making a rare objection to Harvey’s cautiousness.

The truth was, the ruins had been submerged and eroded by the sea for too long. After years of being scoured by the tides, even the sturdiest load-bearing pillars and foundations were riddled with holes, as rotten as decaying wood.

Harvey pondered for a moment, then spread his hands in resignation. “Alright, I approve this expedition. But I have one condition…”

“Please state it, Your Excellency. We are already shouldering the responsibilities of this exploration.”

Harvey chuckled and pointed at himself. “The condition is… you take me with you.”

…

The lift swayed as it slowly descended, landing steadily at the bottom of the pit after a slight shudder.

Harvey, controlling his puppet, was the first to step out of the lift, treading onto the reef floor at the bottom of the pit, which remained wet and slippery after the tide had receded.

“The interval between the rising and falling tides is less than two hours. Our exploration can’t be too aggressive. There are sure to be areas in the ruins that are still flooded. If we can’t get through, don’t force it…”

The Eye of Illusion was about to tease Harvey for his excessive caution when his gaze suddenly sharpened. He pointed to a deepwater area not far away. “What is that?”

Following his finger, they saw several fluorescent green shadows suddenly appear in the bottomless seawater at the edge of the reef. They moved incredibly fast in the water, gone in a flash, leaving behind only phantom-like trails of light before disappearing into the countless crevices in the reef below the island.

But soon, several more fluorescent green shadows swam by, seemingly more numerous than before. This time, everyone finally got a clear look at them. They were fish, glowing a faint, fluorescent green from head to tail.

Astaren’s eyes lit up with recognition. “If my memory hasn’t been altered, these should be the Fluorescent Scale Fish, unique to the ice sea.”

He pointed at the shoals of glowing fish darting rapidly through the water, his tone tinged with the pleasure of recalling a distant memory. “These fish move with the rise and fall of the Land-Sea’s tides. When the tide rises, they float up near the ice’s surface to feed, and when it falls, they retreat back into the reef crevices to hide.”

According to Astaren’s memories, during the annual breeding season, the immense light from thousands of Fluorescent Scale Fish gathering together could even penetrate the thick layers of ice, allowing fishermen on the surface to see them clearly from several kilometers away.

“It seems these little glowing fish are treating the sunken ruins of the City of Eternal Night… as a reef to live in and take shelter.”

Chatting amongst themselves, the group walked over to the ruins’ edge, next to what appeared to be the most well-preserved building remnant.

It looked like several enormous, diamond-shaped stone pillars that had been directly cut and pieced together. Although its surface was covered in barnacles, coral, and seaweed, one could still see it was remarkably flat, a testament to the exquisite skill of the artisans who built it hundreds of years ago.

“This is the Oil Storage Room!” Astaren said with certainty after careful examination. “There are no trees or coal in the ice sea to use as fuel for light and heat, but the ice sea whales perfectly compensated for these deficiencies…”

This species of whale, found throughout the entire underground ice sea in extremely large numbers, not only provided the City of Eternal Night with a large supply of long-burning whale oil, but even their massive, dried bones could be used as supplementary fuel, erected in the city like giant torches to illuminate the surroundings.

The group carefully entered one by one through the broken stone gate, descending a stretch of stairs down which seawater still trickled. The light-emitting magic stones held high in their hands immediately illuminated the scene inside the Oil Storage Room.

The empty room was spacious. It seemed only the roof and one corner had been affected by the sinkhole’s collapse. A few broken stone pillars lay to one side, and half of the stone roof had caved in, letting in the twilight sky.

“Oil Storage Room? Doesn’t look like it stored any oil,” the Eye of Illusion said, scuffing his foot on the floor, which had turned green from being soaked in seawater. “There are lines of a protective array carved into the ground… but it seems it couldn’t withstand this terrifying natural disaster.”

Astaren nodded. “The Oil Storage Room would have needed to be absolutely isolated from any fire sources, so it’s not surprising that a protective array was set up here.”

Harvey, however, felt something was amiss. He lowered his head, studying the patterns of the array on the floor for a long time. When he looked up and scanned the room, he realized that none of the other Spellcasters present had the same level of expertise in array inscription as he did.

“Activate a few more light-emitting magic stones! I need to see the entire structure of the array’s inscription clearly!”

Harvey slowly circled, following the intricate lines of the array. He suddenly stopped near the center of the Oil Storage Room. Astaren followed his gaze and saw him staring at a patch of the floor covered in seaweed and moss, his brow furrowed in deep thought.

Just as the ever-impatient Eye of Illusion was about to ask, Harvey suddenly bent down and ripped away the seaweed at his feet, revealing a dull-colored gem hidden beneath. It was perfectly round, the size of a fist, and firmly embedded in the stone floor of the hall.

“An energy-focusing magic stone for the protective array?” The Astrologer couldn’t help but step forward to observe it closely, but he was completely clueless. “I’ve never seen a magic stone of this type, but it looks like its stored mana has been completely depleted…”

Harvey shook his head and suddenly lifted his foot, stepping directly onto the round gemstone. The ground suddenly rumbled with a grating sound, as if some mechanism had been triggered. The vibration quickly spread throughout the entire Oil Storage Room, and a loud grinding noise seemed to echo through the hall.

Then… the floor in the center of the hall split open to form a square doorway. A massive stone staircase slowly rose from below, revealing a pitch-black passage with not a single glimmer of light, seemingly leading deep into the earth.

Chapter 431: The Watchers

The Eye of Illusion used his mana to light two magic stones and tossed them gently into the passage that had suddenly opened in the hall floor. The silvery-white stones tumbled down, soon reaching the bottom.

“It’s just a basement tucked away in the Oil Storage Room. I thought the mechanism would reach below sea level.” The Eye of Illusion somewhat awkwardly drew a magic revolver from his hip—he had only just requested it from a Northern Army logistics officer today, having previously disdained to carry or use one.

With the muzzle pointed slightly downward, he led the way down the stone steps into the underground passage, with Duncan and the Astrologer following close behind.

There was nothing dangerous or peculiar in the secret underground chamber. Not even a single defensive mechanism was triggered. After all, so much time had passed, and coupled with the effects of subsidences and collapses, any mechanisms or arrays would have likely broken down and failed long ago.

Once everyone had lit their light-emitting magic stones, the already less-than-spacious stone chamber was fully illuminated. In the center stood four thick stone pillars, too wide for a single person to encircle with their arms. The low ceiling was still embedded with a large number of the magic gems Harvey had discovered earlier, all appearing dim as if their mana had been depleted. After receiving Harvey’s permission, the Astrologer carefully pried one off, cradling it in his hand to examine it, before tentatively injecting a tiny wisp of his own mana into it.

The magic stone reacted instantly, emitting a faint orange-yellow glow, but it extinguished in the blink of an eye.

“As expected, a type of magic stone with previously unknown properties…” Harvey nodded slightly, speculating, “I imagine they were embedded here to power some kind of magical device. After all, the protective array in the hall above wouldn’t require so many.”

Astaren considered this for a moment before shaking his head in confusion. “My lord, I apologize… I have never heard any rumors about a secret chamber beneath the city’s Oil Storage Room… There are too many secrets within the family. I suspect only the high-ranking core followers would know the whole truth.”

A half-breed like Astaren, whose bloodline purity couldn’t even be guaranteed, would not have even been qualified to live within the City of Eternal Night in the past.

But judging from the abnormally modified protective array in the hall above, Harvey could at least determine that this hidden magical device was not offensive or a trap… After all, even if some great treasure were hidden here, it would be highly unlikely to be concealed beneath a fuel depot on the castle’s outskirts.

With this in mind, Harvey nodded to the Eye of Illusion and the Astrologer, signaling for them to try injecting mana into the magic stones on the ceiling in an attempt to activate the hidden magical device.

As they continuously injected mana, the orange-yellow glow from the magic stones on the ceiling grew increasingly intense. Accompanied by the grating sound of stone and metal scraping together, the group watched in astonishment as the four massive pillars in the center of the room began to slowly descend. The section of floor they enclosed then cracked and rose upward… revealing a bizarre contraption.

A thick brass tube extended straight up from the floor. Its upper end connected horizontally to a winch-like device resembling a ship’s helm. The other end tapered, and its opening was sealed with a transparent crystal plate.

The Eye of Illusion beat Harvey to it, stepping forward and tapping the side of the tube. “This thing’s hollow.”

Harvey frowned, a vague sense of familiarity washing over him. The device didn’t look like an alchemical apparatus that required a magical power source.

He instinctively leaned toward the sealed end of the tube where it curved upward and peered through the crystal plate… It was pitch-black; he couldn’t see a thing.

Wait! Harvey’s head shot up. He thought he knew what this thing was!

A spyglass! Or more accurately… a periscope!

To test his bold hypothesis, Harvey leaned back toward the eyepiece, placed his hands on the helm-like winch, and with a slight push, made it turn with a grating sound.

It was still pitch-black, with no end in sight. Then, suddenly… a flash of fluorescent green streaked across his vision!

Just as he thought! The periscope connected directly to the sea through the underground brass tube, allowing one to observe underwater conditions without having to dive in.

But why would a non-magical device like this be hidden so secretively beneath the Oil Storage Room? There would have been no issue with placing it out in the open. It involved no arcane secrets, just the pure ingenuity of a master craftsman.

Harvey stood up and let Astaren try his hand at operating it. “Was this thing used to help whaling parties track whales in the past?” he asked.

Astaren shook his head. “Ice sea whales frequent the waters near every upwelling; there’s no need to track them. They’re large, clumsy, and slow… hunting them requires no tracking skills whatsoever.”

“It can see the seabed… but if not for fishing, what else could it be for?” the Eye of Illusion couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t tell me there are legendary merfolk under the ice sea?”

Nonsense! The Astrologer couldn’t resist rolling his eyes at him.

Harvey, however, suddenly felt a cold sweat break out on his back.

The scenario they had always considered was that the non-human enemies from the continental heartland would cross the vast natural buffer zone of frozen tundra and barren lands to launch an invasion of annihilation against the various races of the south living at the Corner of the Continent.

But the greatest mystery, of course, was why They had never done so before. After all, aside from the vast distance separating them, there was no insurmountable natural barrier preventing Their arrival.

Unless… the enemy came from beneath the sea!

According to the description of the hide-covered monsters provided by Duncan and the Eye of Illusion, they were immune to magic and invulnerable to weapons… their strange hides could not be torn even by breaking their necks.

The more Harvey thought about it, the more it sounded like a kind of “diving suit” made from some tougher, magically-infused material.

And then there was the rust-spotted metal cylinder on its back, from which it sprayed a terrifying black water that could be freely manipulated and condensed into weapons of any shape…

Alright, if they had “diving suits,” then it wasn’t a stretch to imagine that device served as an “oxygen tank.”

The more Harvey considered it, the more suspicious it all seemed. It was as if the enemy’s appearance and all the clues they had gathered were subtly pointing to one final answer—the hide-covered monsters came from the sea!

And the so-called continental heartland had very likely been located in the depths of the endless ice sea all along… or perhaps it had sunk completely to the seabed due to some accident.

Only this could explain why those powerful races, which had never before ventured to the southern Corner of the Continent, now intended to launch a full-scale invasion.

They had lost the homeland upon which their survival depended, and now they desperately needed to plunder and occupy new lands and resources to make up for their people’s losses and expenses.

And the Kingdom of Eternal Night, a city built upon the ice sea, which had stood a bitter watch for hundreds of years…

Their gaze had never been fixed on the north, across the land, but… from the very beginning, had been locked on what lay beneath the ice—this boundless, vast, and bottomless frozen ocean!

Chapter 432: The Beginnings of a Navy

After staying at the ice sea exploration base for two days, Harvey hastily recalled the soul puppet to Starfire City.

The injured members of the exploration team also returned to the main base with him. The remaining Spellcaster members stayed at the base to continue their gradual exploration of the submerged Eternal Night Ruins, searching for any clues lost to the river of time related to the non-human enemies from the sea.

For the safety and defense of the base, Harvey kept the two hundred-man detachments of the Northern Army he had dispatched stationed there to closely monitor the area around the ruins. They would also coordinate with the base’s engineering team of over a hundred people to complete the construction of the exploration base.

As the City Lord, he naturally didn’t stay idle.

A week later, in the castle hall, now officially named the City Lord’s Manor, Harvey met with the crewmen and sailors he had urgently recruited via a public order issued throughout the entire territory.

Rainer had already given him a full report on the recruitment situation yesterday. Harvey hadn’t expected to find so many “nautical talents” around Starfire City, which was far from the coast and in the middle of the continent. After all, his order specified that applicants must have experience piloting a vessel, either alone or with others, and must be literate—at the very least, they had to have passed the proficiency test for the literacy education program.

When he finally looked through the applicants’ information reports and met this group of “high-end talent” in person, Harvey couldn’t help but smile bitterly and facepalm. They did all have experience piloting vessels… but for most, it was limited to paddling rafts or small fishing boats on the Ralph River and the Icefield River. There were also ferrymen who made a living shuttling people across rivers. In a sense, they hadn’t lied on their résumés; this group truly possessed the skills and experience of “boat handling.”

The ones who actually met Harvey’s expectations—those with experience piloting multi-masted sailing ships on at least an inland river—numbered fewer than six. Most of them were refugees who had fled from the south. One of them had even served as a first mate and helmsman in a merchant fleet, making a living on the Ralph River for over a decade.

Harvey thought for a moment and decided to enlist all thirty-something applicants.

His self-made sailless ironclad ships were completely different from ordinary sailing vessels. They were much simpler and more convenient to operate. You didn’t need an experienced old captain or a skilled helmsman; they could be trained to proficiency quickly. A self-powered vessel that didn’t rely on wind only needed a sufficient supply of magical energy fuel. It required no complicated piloting skills whatsoever—as long as one had normal vision and could turn the helm to adjust direction, that was enough.

Besides, he had no intention of training this group in the same way as the pilots of the Shipping Company’s civilian vessels.

Harvey put down the list of personnel, gestured for Pierce, the commander-in-chief of the military who had been waiting at his side, to come forward, and then turned to the assembled residents. “I’ve reviewed all of your résumés… I’ve summoned you today to personally inform you that everyone present has passed the recruitment assessment. From now on, you will officially join the Military Command… and become glorious naval officer cadets!”

After speaking, he waved his hand. “No need to keep bowing. Straighten up and meet the man beside me… your future commander-in-chief.”

“Yes… My lord.” The crowd cautiously straightened up, instinctively glancing at the familiar faces beside them, their expressions a mix of bewilderment and confusion.

Weren’t they here to apply as crewmen and helmsmen? How had they inexplicably joined the army and become some kind of naval officer cadets?

Good heavens! For a thousand miles around Starfire City, you probably wouldn’t find a single coast!

But a position that required the City Lord to personally issue a recruitment order and then stoop to meet them himself had to be extremely important and promising. Judging by how the City Lord valued and protected his residents, he would never toy with them for amusement or deceive them with fraud.

A navy it is, then… At least they were promoted to officers right upon enlistment, even if they were only cadets for now.

Harvey looked at their confused expressions and took the initiative to explain: “Being a cadet means you haven’t received a formal enlistment contract. You could be eliminated at any time before passing the assessment… Of course, your salary will also be half that of a regular soldier, though all other benefits will be the same. During the three-month cadet period, you will be responsible for learning about the performance, structure, piloting techniques, and energy systems of the sailless ironclad ships…”

He paused, then added, “After the three-month cadet period, I will personally assess your abilities. Only those who pass will be directly promoted to the official navy, holding the position of captain with mid-rank officer status. At that point, your salary will be thirty percent higher than an army officer of the same rank, but the military missions you’ll undertake will also be more demanding and dangerous. Anyone unwilling to accept these terms can withdraw now.”

A wave of whispers went through the crowd, but not a single person stepped forward to quit. Those who had dared to recommend themselves to the City Lord without asking questions were the oldest residents under Harvey’s rule. This group formed a natural core of loyalists from the pioneer territories, and their loyalty and trust in Harvey were absolute.

After a moment, a middle-aged man who looked to be around forty, with streaks of gray in his hair, suddenly spoke up. “Respected City Lord, may I ask, after we become… naval officer cadets, which commander from the Military Command will be teaching and training us? And the vessels we need to familiarize ourselves with and master… are they the same model as the civilian ironclad ships currently used by the Shipping Company?”

Harvey glanced at him with some surprise. This must be the old helmsman who had served as a first mate in a merchant fleet. His name seemed to be Gutres. While reviewing the files earlier, Harvey had noticed that his eldest son also seemed to serve in the military, though he held a low-ranking officer position in the Defense Force.

Both father and son eagerly joining the army to serve the City Lord truly moved Harvey, touching him with their unconditional trust and support.

He smiled and said gently, “Your instructor will be me.”

These words immediately caused a stir among the crowd. Many people looked up, stealing glances at Harvey, a clear trace of excitement and fervor in their eyes.

Gutres also trembled, asking in astonishment, “My lord… You, you will teach us personally?”

Harvey smiled and shook his head, then suddenly posed a question to the crowd: “How many of you are familiar with or understand magical-powered engines?”

A couple of hands went up sparsely in the crowd. “My… my lord, someone in my family works at the munitions factory. They said… said that magical-powered engines can’t run for long periods and need regular water-cooling to dissipate heat…”

“The liquid magical energy that powers the magical-powered engines is very precious. When there are no production or manufacturing tasks, you can’t let the equipment run idle. You have to learn to conserve energy… for… for sustainable development.”

Well, I’ll be. These were all slogans from the employee handbooks of various important production departments. These old residents had certainly memorized them well.

Training this group himself was truly a move born of necessity. Aside from him, no one else in all of Starfire City knew the first thing about forming a “modern navy.” And Harvey himself was less than a half-baked “armchair military enthusiast.” He would have to learn by trial and error, figuring things out as he went and eventually summarizing a suitable theoretical system from practice.

The saying he’d heard in his past life, “It takes ten years to build an army, a hundred years to build a navy,” was no exaggeration. Harvey could only hope that with the aid of magical technology, just as he had built a valiant, battle-hardened Northern Army with overwhelming firepower in ten months, he could now raise a Northern Navy skilled with magical-powered engines and ironclad ships in the same amount of time.

After all, aside from him, the entire senior management of Starfire City would soon learn that… upon the Northern Barren Lands, there truly was a boundless “sea”…

And in that sea, there were likely non-human enemies that would be a thorn in their side, eyeing them like a tiger watching its prey.

Chapter 433: Submarine Design Plans

Chris and Benoit leaned over, their eyes practically glued to the wide desk, staring intently at the blueprints Harvey had spread out, their faces wracked with thought.

“My lord, this… is this the new military vessel you’ve designed?” Benoit straightened up and cleared his throat primly. “Forgive my bluntness, but this doesn’t conform to any conventional ship design…”

Tapered at the front and rounded at the back, with a thick midsection… The overall shape was like an oversized spindle with a corner lopped off. The key was… the entire thing appeared to be fully enclosed. The two of them looked at it from every angle but couldn’t see a deck anywhere.

The new ship was about twelve meters long, but its midsection was nearly six meters wide, making it look even bulkier and more cumbersome than the ironclad ships that sailed the Ralph River. It was no different from a slightly elongated turtle shell.

What was most peculiar was that in the structural diagrams, the new ship was broken down into several sectional modules. Each module had connection ports and docking slots, as if the complete hull could be assembled directly like building blocks.

Chris had been under Harvey’s command for a long time and had grown accustomed to the City Lord who often came up with wildly imaginative ideas and creations. He, at least, could see some method in the blueprints. “A fully enclosed deck would be effective for defending against enemy attacks, but it would also obstruct the view. And if the entire vessel is made of metal… not to mention the deep draft, its payload and speed would be major problems.”

Harvey wasn’t angered by his subordinate pointing out the direct design and functional flaws. He smiled and said, “These problems can all be solved. And this is indeed the new warship that will soon go into experimental production.”

As for why it was designed to be fully enclosed… Harvey’s finger slid lightly across the blueprint as he said gravely, “I want it to not only sail normally on the surface but also have the ability to submerge and fight underwater… which is why I plan to name it a submarine.”

A submarine? Underwater combat?

Chris and Benoit stared at each other, too shocked to say a word.

The Chief Alchemist immediately recalled the high-level emergency meeting held not long ago. He swallowed hard and whispered, “You mean… you specifically designed this new type of vessel to deal with the potential non-human enemies from the ice sea?”

Harvey nodded, offering no further explanation on the matter.

Both submarines and shallow-water gunboats like the ironclads had similar design flaws. With only a single magical-powered engine installed, speed and maneuverability were their most significant weaknesses. When unladen, carrying only the necessary fuel and crew, their average sailing speed was less than ten kilometers per hour. After being refitted with two Magical Energy Naval Cannons, plus the artillery crew and shell reserves, the speed dropped to below six kilometers per hour, earning them the nickname “iron turtles” of the Ralph River.

The main reason was that the ironclad ships themselves were too heavy, resulting in a deep draft. For transporting people and goods, they had the convenient advantage of being able to break through ice, so speed wasn’t a major concern. But when used directly as warships, they were naturally clumsy and ill-suited for the role.

Besides, he currently had no fear of the noble powers and the Church’s Judgment Army south of the Spine of the Continent Mountains. The real thorn in his side… were the non-human invaders who seemed a great distance away but were, in reality, practically on their doorstep.

Those hide-covered monsters! Their origins were still unclear, and he had no idea what direction their society’s “tech tree” had taken.

Fortunately, they were all carbon-based lifeforms; breaking their necks or riddling their bodies with bullets would still kill them on the spot.

This gave Harvey confidence and something to rely on—since all fear stems from a lack of firepower, then all he had to do was drastically increase his fire coverage and weapon range.

…

Continuing their discussion over the submarine design plans, Harvey and the two chief alchemists had a simple lunch before hurrying to the shipbuilding workshop by the Icefield River—where the Construction Department was building and expanding a more complete deep-water naval shipyard next to the civilian docks.

Thanks to the Icefield River originating from the cloud-piercing Spine of the Continent Mountains, the powerful current and sharp ice floes had carved the entire riverbed to be both wide and deep. The middle section of the river alone was nearly a hundred meters deep, perfectly meeting the standards and conditions required for developing and testing a submarine.

“My lord, how will a submarine built in Starfire City be transported to the ice sea base?” Benoit couldn’t imagine a single feasible method. “Even if we follow the Icefield River with its countless tributaries, I doubt it could reach the frozen lands, right?”

Moreover, even with the most powerful planetary-grade teleportation array, it would be impossible to teleport an ironclad submarine weighing a hundred tons, let alone drag it into the water by sheer manpower.

Harvey chuckled and explained slowly, “That’s why I designed it to be modular. Simply put… we build all its components in Starfire City, then send them through the teleportation array to the ice sea base for on-site assembly and launch.”

The modular design also took into account the submarine’s waterproofing and airtightness. Simple assembly and welding could not guarantee a a one hundred percent leak-proof seal. Therefore, thin steel plates painted with a rubber fruit coating would be welded into individual hollow boxes, and these boxes would then be assembled and joined together to form the main structure of the submarine.

This building-block method of shipbuilding didn’t need to consider draft depth or a balancing keel, making it completely unrelated to traditional shipbuilding techniques. All Harvey needed to achieve was to ensure the submarine could surface and dive normally, and that when it encountered enemies underwater, the Navy soldiers piloting it could operate the shipboard magical energy cannons to attack.

As for the propulsion, Harvey decided to stick with the propeller technology used on the ironclads, but the power unit would be upgraded to accommodate three magical-powered engines. Surfacing and diving would be controlled entirely by mechanical gears, utilizing the submarine’s separate hollow compartments to achieve the function of flooding for diving and pumping out water for surfacing.

This aspect would naturally rely on the Alchemy Laboratory team led by Chris and Benoit to complete.

For the arduous task of perfecting the blueprints and constructing the first experimental vessel, Harvey generously granted the Laboratory the highest authority to freely allocate important strategic resources. All municipal production departments were required to cooperate unconditionally.

…

Clutching the blueprints, the two chief alchemists left the City Lord’s Manor with full confidence as Harvey watched them go.

Only then did Harvey finally find a moment of free time. He returned to his study and began to work at his desk—compiling a so-called Navy training manual.

With his half-baked skill level as a “keyboard military enthusiast,” it was almost impossible for him to complete a set of military theory textbooks that were both comprehensive and professional.

Daily military training could follow the army’s standards to some extent without issue, but when it came to handling and control of military vessels, surface (and subsurface) combat doctrines, use and maintenance of shipboard weapons and equipment, technical training for various shipboard positions… and even the hydrographic and meteorological characteristics of the operational area.

Harvey stared at the blank sheet of paper, a splitting headache coming on. He summoned the personal guard standing by the door.

“Go quickly, and bring Commander-in-Chief Pierce to see me.”

Chapter 434: The Military General Staff

Halfway through the recruitment and mobilization conference, Pierce was summoned by the City Lord and hurried to the City Lord’s Manor.

“My lord, I’m here.”

Harvey grunted in acknowledgment and gestured with his chin for his old subordinate to take a seat. “I heard… that the group of pro-military student activists you’ve been developing at the public academy are about to graduate.”

Pierce paused for a moment, then recalled that a long time ago, Harvey had ordered him to dispatch some low-to-mid-ranking officers from the Northern Army to the territory’s public academy. Their task was to share their glorious combat stories with the students to inspire the new generation to enlist and to foster a sense of belonging and honor for their homeland.

And indeed, those tales of heroic combat were extremely popular among the young students. At the Military Command’s daily meetings, Pierce often heard reports of the visiting officers being surrounded by students, all clamoring to graduate early and join the army.

“My lord, while there are no issues with these students’ backgrounds, most of them are just teenagers who’ve barely come of age. Even if we make an exception and recruit them… I worry that with their so-called higher education, they won’t be able to endure the hardship of starting from the bottom.”

Moreover, the students would most likely be unable to withstand the Military Command’s grueling, almost perverse, new recruit training program. The fifty percent attrition rate during the three-month evaluation period, especially amidst the Northern Army’s full-scale expansion, spoke for itself.

Everyone dreamed of the high salary and generous benefits of a professional soldier. They all hoped to wield powerful magical weapons, crush all enemy forces, and finally ascend the high platform to receive a personal commendation from the City Lord himself, basking in the people’s deafening roar of praise.

But a harsh reality awaited these eligible young people. To obtain such extraordinary privileges, they had to pay an equally extraordinary price in effort and sacrifice.

Harvey didn’t immediately refute Pierce’s opinion. He smiled warmly and said, “Do you remember a while back, when Yuliao, the Police Superintendent, briefly joined the Northern Army and I made a special exception to appoint him as a Political Instructor?”

Why is my lord bringing up all this old business today?

Though filled with doubt, Pierce dutifully thought back. “I remember. You had Police Superintendent Yuliao teach the soldiers… the way of the knight.”

That was something Pierce had never understood. The first batch of veterans he had trained in the Northern Army were all brave and skilled fighters, absolutely loyal to their Lord, and strictly disciplined… Compared to those nobles who prattled on about loyalty and honor while their minds were filled with self-interest and power struggles, his soldiers were far more like true knights.

Harvey naturally saw the discontent brewing in Pierce’s mind and shook his head with a wry smile.

“I want to use these educated student soldiers as a foundation, then select suitable candidates from the experienced low-to-mid-ranking officers of the Northern Army, and form a military General Staff.”

“A General Staff?”

Pierce was puzzled. “My lord, don’t you already have Mr. Astaren and Mr. Duncan, two chief advisors of profound knowledge and superior intellect? What good can those students be? And as for my rough-and-tumble junior officers… most of them barely passed the literacy test.”

Harvey chuckled. “I’m not asking them to be my advisors. I’m asking them to be yours!”

Pierce shot up from the sofa, his face pale as he dropped to one knee. “My lord, are… are you dissatisfied with me? Please… please allow me to…”

“What are you thinking?” Harvey covered his face. “Establishing a General Staff within the army is to assist your command and management work, not because I’m dissatisfied with you and want to replace you.”

He rose with a sigh, pulled his old subordinate to his feet, and pushed him back down onto the sofa.

“The total strength of Starfire City’s Territorial Army is already over ten thousand, isn’t it?”

“Yes… counting the more than three thousand new recruits still in training, we are indeed close to ten thousand.” Pierce had always known the army’s size and recruitment numbers like the back of his hand; he could give Harvey a precise figure down to the last man with his eyes closed.

“During the most recent operation against Fengyuan City, you, as the Commander-in-Chief, still had to personally lead from the front. And without you at the main base, I wouldn’t be comfortable entrusting additional military tasks to anyone else…”

Having Pierce, the Commander-in-Chief, personally lead the charge in most military operations was a waste of his talents, and he was being spread far too thin.

Harvey clapped him on the shoulder and asked bluntly, “Besides you, who else in the Northern Army is currently capable of taking on a major command role?”

Pierce finally understood Harvey’s true intention. He let out a long breath, but his expression remained grave.

“Besides me… there’s Vaughn, but he’s too cautious, blindly loyal, and inflexible.”

Harvey nodded in agreement. “True.”

Pierce paused. “Then there’s Wayne. He’s too aggressive and always loves taking risks…” That much was clear from how, as a mere commoner officer, he had dared to suggest assassinating Duke Ralph, bypassing Harvey’s orders, right in front of two high-level casters.

The army absolutely could not be entrusted to a commander who was a risk-taker.

The remaining veteran officers of the Northern Army, like Dav and Tommy, all had their own distinct flaws. They were either pure, mindless brutes or possessed some cunning but lacked long-term vision.

If left without Harvey or Pierce, and tasked with independently leading an important operation, the vast majority of them would likely present Harvey with a hopeless battle plan: steamroll everything in their path.

This was where the importance of an independent General Staff within the army became apparent.

The educated student soldiers, having experienced life at the grassroots level as Political Instructors, would naturally shed the weakness of armchair strategy and become qualified staff officers. With veteran NCOs from the Northern Army to guide them, they could pool their wisdom and efforts to provide the commanding officers with suggestions and references for decision-making when planning and coordinating operations. This would be far more effective than the Commander-in-Chief making autocratic decisions, or Harvey, the City Lord, making impulsive orders from the main base.

As for the structure of the General Staff, Harvey planned to copy what he knew from his past life—he would establish an Operations Command, a Conscription and Mobilization Department, and a Logistics Coordination and Management Department. Under these three departments with clearly defined functions, there would be further subdivisions for operations, intelligence, training, conscription, armaments, logistics, and more.

It was an almost perfect solution to the current shortage of command talent in the army.

Harvey’s eloquent speech on the importance of the General Staff left Pierce utterly dumbfounded, unable to get a word in for a long time.

Only when Harvey finally paused to take a sip of water did Pierce manage a difficult swallow and say hoarsely, “My lord… based on the scale you envision for the General Staff, the batch of reserve student soldiers we’ve cultivated at the academy won’t be nearly enough.”

Chapter 435: Magical Steel-Forging

“The Industrial Department’s twenty blast furnaces can’t produce steel that meets your testing standards?”

Harvey looked up from behind his desk, his voice tinged with disbelief.

When he had handed the submarine schematics to Chris and Benoit, he had indeed granted them special permission to use any critical strategic materials and demanded unconditional cooperation from all manufacturing departments for the new vessel’s research and testing.

But he never imagined that the research and development would get stuck at the most crucial stage: materials.

Back when it was still the pioneer territories, the pig iron smelted day and night in traditional cast iron furnaces was enough to supply the entire territory’s daily needs. After the advent of blast furnaces, steel production reached an unprecedented peak.

All steel produced in the territory was divided into two categories: military and civilian. The former supplied the munitions factory, shipyards, and railway transport department, while the latter mainly served the Construction Department for plumbing, lighting, and fittings, the Bicycle Factory, and the manufacturing of various industrial and agricultural tools.

Right now, the busiest manufacturing department in all of Starfire City was the steel smelting center, which occupied a vast area in the suburban Industrial Park. It operated almost nonstop, with its workers on a three-shift system. Their salaries and benefits were among the best in the entire Industrial Park.

Chris and Benoit exchanged a look, their faces fraught with misery. “My lord, this was a key requirement mentioned in your design schematics… The steel for the submarine’s hull modules, after being die-cast into plates, must be able to withstand one hundred kilograms of pressure without significant deformation or cracking…”

Harvey sighed and rubbed his forehead, a little embarrassed. According to the basic physics he’d learned in school in his past life, the pressure of seawater increased by one atmosphere for every ten meters of descent due to its greater density. Diving to a depth of one hundred meters meant withstanding nearly ten atmospheres. When applied over the vehicle’s entire surface area, this, to put it simply, meant it needed to endure nearly one hundred kilograms of force.

However, most military submarines, products of modern technology, had a maximum dive depth of only about three hundred meters. So, in Harvey’s mind, if this home-brewed “iron turtle” submersible of his could safely dive to a depth of one hundred meters, that would already be quite an achievement.

After all, the main battlefield would surely be on land. In the water, the submarine would primarily serve for early warning, reconnaissance, and surprise attacks.

Steelmaking itself was a highly complex field of production. Whether through modern or crude methods, steel output has always been an important parameter for measuring the industrialization of a country or region. Harvey only knew that this world’s smelting technology was extremely primitive, and his blast furnaces alone were a leap across eras. In reality, though, they were inferior to the private smelting workshops of some mining companies from his previous life.

The pig iron ingots produced in his territory varied in quality. The blacksmith technicians responsible for assessment could only perform a simple sorting. The high-quality iron was sent to the munitions factory to be made into magical energy weapons and alchemical beasts. Part of the lower-quality portion was sent to the blast furnaces for further refining into steel, while the rest was quickly snatched up by the various civilian production departments, who eyed it covetously, and cast into an assortment of civilian tools on assembly lines for distribution throughout the territory.

It now seemed that figuring out how to produce high-quality, controllable steel had become Harvey’s primary objective.

“If the steel we produce ourselves can’t meet the requirements, then try adding some magical minerals… Phantomlight Copper, Frigid Black Iron… Mithril? Meltfire Gold? Anything you think you can alloy with, you can use for experiments.”

Cost was not a concern for now. As long as a prototype of the submarine could be successfully built, the materials issue… Harvey believed he could find a way to resolve it soon.

When it came to applying magic to production, no one was better at seamlessly combining the two than he was.

…

Once Harvey pulled himself away from the tedious affairs of reality, he logged into the Spellcaster Forum for the first time in a while and found the Federation’s Chief, who had been “surfing” the forum for a long time while holed up.

[The Scorching Sovereign: Flesh Dissolution? Isn’t that the flesh magic that Undead spellcasters are best at? Why the sudden interest, and why come to me for an explanation?]

[Kel’Thuzad: As you know, Flesh Dissolution is a spell that targets living organisms. What I truly wish to ask about… is the brand-new spell model that His Excellency, the Shadow Knight, is said to have modified and reforged from it—Shadow Dissolution.]

This spell had once been recorded in the magical archives of the Celestial Domain of Araye. Although it was never officially published in the gazette, it was successfully included in the Spellcaster Forum’s Magic Encyclopedia. Harvey had stumbled upon it by chance during a search and had been focusing on and studying it ever since.

This modified spell, which Chief Gallagher had derisively called a “useless ninth-circle” in his research paper, was a shot in the arm in Harvey’s eyes. Its effect was vastly different from Flesh Dissolution; its powerful ability to separate inorganic matter could effortlessly remove impurities from smelted metals. This would allow for precise control over elemental ratios during the smelting phase, ensuring stable output while also improving the quality of the final product.

It was safe to say that this ninth-circle spell, considered useless by the Legendary battle mage, was capable of elevating Starfire City’s steelmaking capabilities by several levels in an instant.

Now, only one problem stood before Harvey—Chief Shadow Knight Gallagher was currently in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, leading the general offensive against the Demons’ frontline command. He had been offline and out of contact for several months.

Left with no other choice, Harvey could only find Mr. Scorching Sovereign, who was in “home quarantine,” and ask him to mediate on his behalf so that he could successfully obtain the spell model and structural analysis for this “useless ninth-circle.”

[The Scorching Sovereign: Shadow Dissolution? That was just a random burst of research inspiration from Gallagher, but in the end, it just proved that a guy who started as a battle mage has no talent for academic research… Heh, it’s not worth trading anything for. I can give it to you anytime.]

For His Excellency the Chief, who always strictly adhered to the forum’s principle of equivalent exchange, to be so generous and casual immediately put Harvey on guard.

[Kel’Thuzad: I’m afraid that might be against the rules. While your Excellency may not lack for money or rare magical materials, please make a request commensurate with the value of the Dissolution spell… I can include some magic ammunition for the Gun of Annihilation as an extra. What do you think?]

The crystal screen of the Magic Brain device remained blank for a long time. Just as Harvey thought he was about to be met with a silent rejection, The Scorching Sovereign’s handle lit up again, and a line of text slowly appeared before his eyes.

[The Scorching Sovereign: Mr. Kel’Thuzad, the Federation… has relied heavily on the Spellcaster Forum and your personal help in the war against the Demons, as well as in our conflicts with the Church. But please, do not misunderstand. We have not planted any intelligence operatives in your territory, nor do we have any intention of spying on the situation in your domain…]

The Scorching Sovereign seemed to have a lot on his mind, sending a long message that could only be described as “from the heart.”

[The Scorching Sovereign: We have only heard… heard that you have established a city in the Northern Barren Lands where spellcasters and mortals collaborate closely and coexist as equals, and that you have recently made a small expansion. In light of this… I have a proposal. I wonder if you would be so kind as to consider allowing the Federation to establish a small Northern Realm branch in your new city.]

Chapter 436: Factional Strife

“The Federation of Casters is an ally of our Starfire City. If the City Lord allows them to establish a branch in the Northern Realm, I believe we should inform them of the intelligence regarding the non-human enemies in the continental heartland as soon as possible.” Rainer’s tone was cold and rigid, his strange voice grating like scraping metal. “After all, they are very likely to be the first allies we can win over in the future. Those Mage Corps entrenched in the Evil Moon Mountain Range would be a powerful reinforcement in defending against our enemies.”

The words “more powerful” immediately struck a nerve with Pierce. He raised an eyebrow, for once finding himself opposing his “old colleague.” “Powerful reinforcement? The only reason they managed to counterattack north of the Evil Moon Mountains is because of the Anti-Demon weapons we provided them. Mr. Steward, do you really believe those gaudy battle mages are a match for the loyal, elite soldiers under the lord’s command?”

With the City Lord’s two top core followers suddenly locking horns, the atmosphere in the conference hall became somewhat awkward. Fortunately, Chief Advisor Astaren stepped in at the right moment to mediate. “The strength we possess is certainly superior to those traditional, old-fashioned Mage Corps, but they are not without their merits. At least in terms of flexibility and mobility…”

Those Scout Mages, who had spent years walking the line between life and death and were rich in experience fighting Demons, were in some respects a match for the most elite special operations soldiers. Even the Bloodline Warriors under Harvey’s personal command wouldn’t dare claim an easy victory.

“Speaking of flexibility and mobility, with our military-grade off-road Magic Motorcycles, we’re not inferior to those battle mages, are we?” As the battalion commander of the Northern Army’s First Battalion and concurrently the Captain of the Special Operations Squad, Vaughn rarely spoke up but now made an effort to defend his troops.

Hearing this, Chris couldn’t help but interject, “There will always be terrain and areas that Magic Motorcycles can’t cross. And you can’t fly like them…”

“I… I was just giving an example. Besides… not everyone in the Federation’s Mage Corps is high-rank, but as for Magic Motorcycles, every single member of our Special Operations Squad has a fully equipped one.”

Chris was rendered speechless. He closed his mouth and stared up at the ceiling.

By the time Harvey returned from his thoughts on using Shadow Dissolution to refine steel, he found the meeting at a stalemate. He quickly clapped his hands and said, “Let’s take a temporary recess. Everyone has been arguing all morning. Let’s have something to eat here before we continue our discussion.”

Following his instructions, attendants pushed in serving carts from outside the conference hall, placing freshly baked pastries, fruit, and tea on the table. Some grabbed a bite to eat while others stepped out onto the balcony for a smoke. The tense atmosphere immediately eased.

Ever since Harvey had revealed the Federation’s request to establish a branch in Starfire City, the atmosphere in the work meetings over the past few days had felt subtly off.

Harvey could clearly see that his officials had started to split into factions. The Administrative Hall faction, led by Rainer, had a moderate and conservative style. They followed Harvey’s long-held principle of talent acquisition, believing that as long as it wasn’t a hostile force, they should maintain good alliances with any organization that could be of use. Through close cooperation and exchange, they would subtly use “sweeteners” to slowly and completely assimilate the other party into their own camp.

Advanced magical Science, Alchemical constructs that were ahead of their time, a comfortable and convenient living environment, generous remuneration and benefits… all these things in Starfire City, so different from the outside world, could be used as bargaining chips to attract talent and labor. Compared to the live ammunition and lethal weapons of the Northern Army, the “sweeteners” held by the Administrative Hall were the truly irresistible weapons for most people.

This moderate and inclusive approach naturally appealed to Chris and the other Alchemists, who had come from the Alchemical Exploration Society and had deep ties to the Federation. Therefore, whenever the Administrative Hall proposed a new measure, the Alchemy Laboratory was always the first to side with them.

In contrast, the faction represented by Pierce—the Northern Army, along with the Defense Force and the Police Department—was aggressive and xenophobic. The military was inherently a tight-knit armed organization. Furthermore, its officers at all levels were mostly from the barren lands, or were refugees or lowborn from the south. They naturally harbored a resentment for the ruling classes that had always been high and mighty, whether they were the ordinary nobles of the south or the arrogant Spellcasters of the Federation.

And the Necromancers, who had long been discriminated against by orthodox Spellcasters, logically sided with the military. This truly surprised Harvey—for Spellcasters and a military composed of mortals to band together in Starfire City was like seeing a ghost in broad daylight.

But it was also perfectly understandable. After all, the Academy of Sciences, where the Necromancers resided, currently presided over the curriculum of the territory’s Spellcaster Academy. This group of outcasts naturally did not want the Federation to gain a foothold in Starfire City, which would encroach upon their faction’s interests and right to speak.

Unfortunately, the radical faction led by the military had spent more time dealing with people through the barrel of a gun and had a far poorer understanding of interpersonal relationships and political situations than the Administrative Hall’s faction. The only ones who could mediate, Astaren and Duncan, looked only to the City Lord for direction and mostly remained on the sidelines. During the heated debates in the meetings, the radical faction was often refuted and beaten back at every turn by the conservative faction, ultimately having to end the session with their stomachs full of frustration.

As long as Harvey didn’t make a final decision, today’s scene would likely be no different from before—just another one-sided rhetorical beatdown.

It was normal for factional struggles to exist within a large political organization. Harvey had already witnessed it many times when he established the Spellcaster Forum. Even a virtual “internet forum” had situations where people with conflicting stances and beliefs formed cliques to exclude others, let alone reality.

It was also a simple method for a ruler to balance his subordinates and prevent any single one from accumulating too much power, as long as he didn’t indulge or favor one side too much.

However, things were different now. The intelligence from the exploration team’s northern expedition about encountering a hide-wearing non-human race gave Harvey a sense of facing enemies on two fronts, yet he was tense from not knowing the enemy’s true strength. And there was no telling when the secular nobility and the Church to the south would free up their hands to start causing trouble again for him, the Mage Lord who occupied a large swath of St. Valen’s territory.

During such a special period, Harvey felt it was right to let the “war-like faction” gain the upper hand, as it would be more advantageous for the overall situation.

…

The short recess ended. Resuming his seat at the head of the table, Harvey took a sip of tea, cleared his throat, and said with a serious expression, “Regarding the matter of whether to accept the Federation’s establishment of a branch in Starfire City…”

He had started with the main topic of today’s debate. All the participating officials immediately sat up straight, their heads turned as they watched the supreme ruler of the territory with burning intensity.

“I believe the Federation’s traditional model for operating its branches is too outdated and not conducive to developing a close cooperative relationship with us… I intend to establish a ‘New Federation’ in Starfire City, abandoning the old, flawed custom of only accepting orthodox Spellcasters. Alchemical lifeforms, Bloodline Warriors, Alchemists, marginalized schools of casting, and even non-human races that maintain friendly relations with us should all be included and treated as equals.”

Chapter 437: Securing the Borders, Pacifying the Interior

Deep beneath the Araye magic stone mines where Federation Chief Salas was confined.

The three Chiefs were gathered for a rare, important discussion. Even Gallagher, Marshal of the Mage Corps who had not been seen for a long time, appeared in the silver full-length mirror with a grave expression.

“The general offensive on the Demons’ central front is at a critical juncture. Why on earth must we discuss the matter of the Federation establishing a presence in the Northern Realm with Kel’Thuzad now?” Gallagher’s brow was deeply furrowed, a clear sign of his displeasure. “We cannot afford to lose his aid at this moment. If our ammunition supply is cut off, the favorable position we’ve spent over half a year building will all be for naught.”

The diminutive Dawson, for once, stood on his side, saying worriedly, “Indeed. Offending him is tantamount to offending the Forum. There is no need for us to be so hasty, to extend our reach into his sphere of influence.”

Salas wasn’t in a hurry to explain. He simply sat in his chair, holding a teacup with a faint smile, saying nothing.

Gallagher had always detested this leisurely act of his and snorted impatiently. “So what if he agrees? That’s a mage territory controlled by the Forum’s power. Who do you think would be suitable to send? Wouldn’t they just be led around by the nose by Kel’Thuzad? What benefit could there possibly be?”

The moment he finished speaking, the First Chief placed his teacup on the table with a clink. His eyes burned as he stared at his two old comrades. “And what if I were to go myself? Do you think that would be suitable?”

“That’s not suitable either… Wait? Who? You? You’re going?” Dawson paused, then shot to his feet in disbelief. “Are you mad? Has your Soul-Splitting Sickness relapsed?”

To have the First Chief of the Federation stationed at a branch office in a city founded by an independent Spellcaster was simply unheard of. If that happened, wouldn’t the already poorly defended Araye be left with only Dawson as its sole Legendary Chief?

If the Papal State in Goris were to learn of this, they would likely mobilize their entire force in an attempt to attack and completely destroy the City of Magic, the sanctuary of truth in the eyes of all Spellcasters on the continent.

Gallagher’s lips twitched. He stammered, “I know you’re trapped here with no way out, but there’s no need to demean your own status like this. Besides, the Forum can’t help you escape anyway.”

Not to mention, Kel’Thuzad would never agree to invite a venerable figure like the Federation’s Chief to keep a constant watch on him from within his own territory. That would be getting caught in his own trap.

“He will… He will agree to it,” Salas murmured softly.

Then he stood up, abruptly changing the subject. “That ancient historical rumor that’s been gaining traction on the Forum recently… you’ve both heard of it, I assume?”

Dawson said sullenly, “It’s been spreading privately for ages. It’s just that no one dares to ask the Forum administrators directly for confirmation.”

A high-level caster with the handle “Wolfwalker” had, while exploring the Northern Barren Lands, stumbled upon the ruins of an ancient wizard. The ancient texts recovered from within mentioned a heaven-shattering historical secret—far to the north of the Northern Barren Lands, deep in the frozen tundra, there existed a place of origin called the 【Continental Heartland】. That was the true ancestral homeland of the various races of the south.

This unverified and untraceable piece of “gossip” had been circulating in the Spellcaster Forum’s private chat rooms for a long time. As the talk fermented, more and more Forum members began trying to verify the rumor’s authenticity. Surprisingly, quite a few of them managed to piece together corroborating clues from lost or damaged ancient texts and archeological findings from ruins across the south.

To tirelessly explore and separate fact from fiction with a mix of skepticism and a thirst for knowledge had always been the Spellcaster’s path to truth. As more historical facts that could support the rumor were gradually unearthed, they began to form a more complete picture of actual history. This thrilled the high-level members of the Forum, who discussed it with sustained enthusiasm.

Everyone knew exactly what this meant. Once the historical truth was made public, the Church’s claim that the God of Glory created all living things with Humans at their head, and that He had formed the Spine of the Continent Mountains to block the invasion of the non-human races who had evolved from Devils, would immediately be proven false. The foundation of faith that the Church had spent centuries building would collapse in an instant.

“If the rumor is true, it will be an absolutely fatal blow to the Church. Not only will the secular nobility immediately forsake them, but the common people will also gradually abandon this false faith, causing them to lose their greatest basis for rule.” Although Dawson had always been part of the conservative faction within the Federation, he was utterly ruthless when it came to the Church, the sworn enemy of all Spellcasters.

Gallagher pondered for a moment, then asked doubtfully, “But what if the rumor can’t be confirmed? Who would dare to publicly ask those mysterious beings on the Forum for verification? Aren’t you worried that those esteemed individuals… might have come from this so-called ‘Continental Heartland’ themselves?”

Salas cut off Gallagher’s rebuttal. “That high-level Mage with the handle ‘Wolfwalker’ is none other than one of Kel’Thuzad’s Spellcaster Advisors,” he said in a low voice. “And don’t ask how I know about their relationship… Aside from this ‘Mr. Agent,’ I doubt any organization in the south has the capability to send a high-level caster deep into the frozen barren lands to conduct such an exploration, do they?”

If the Federation couldn’t do it, then no organization in the seven wizard kingdoms could. On this point, the Federation, as the most powerful Spellcaster organization in the south, was quite confident.

Salas paused, then continued, “Not only that… the ancient texts discovered in the ruins also mention that the distant ‘Continental Heartland’ is home to numerous non-human races, races far more powerful than we Humans or even the Demons… enemies who are eyeing us covetously, ready to invade the south at any moment!”

He finished with a deep breath, his expression a mixture of indignation and fury. “And right now, we Humans of the south, just like the Demons entrenched in the Northern Barren Lands, were once exiled to this place from the ‘Continental Heartland’… losers of the War of the Myriad Races.”

As his words fell, both Gallagher and Dawson gasped, exclaiming in unison, “We are the exiled? And there are more powerful non-human enemies in our ancestral homeland? By the Truth! Salas, is this absolutely true?”

Salas nodded and said grimly, “Asking Kel’Thuzad for confirmation is the same as asking those mysterious figures on the Forum. In that regard… I believe it to be highly credible.”

Dawson slapped his thigh in a flash of understanding. “I see! You want to establish a branch in Kel’Thuzad’s territory so you can plant our own people in their exploration teams and personally verify the truth of this rumor?”

“That is one reason… On the other hand, I also want to send him a message.” Salas stood up, his gaze burning as he looked at his two colleagues. “If the rumor is true, our Federation will stand with the city Kel’Thuzad has built in the barren lands, and together, we will resist the non-human enemies from the north.”

Whether it was during the Dragon War or the war between Humans and Demons over a century ago, Spellcasters would always stand on the front lines, defending their people!

Chapter 438: The Dissolution Furnace

After successfully getting the nine-circle spell model and analytical construct for the Shadow Dissolution spell from the Federation’s Chief for free, Harvey had the two chiefs of the Alchemy Laboratory put aside their work developing the submarine to focus on helping him build the magical steel furnace he had envisioned.

Compared to the previous pig iron kilns and steel blast furnaces, the new furnace completely abandoned traditional construction methods. Its volume alone was several times larger. It was built with fire-resistant bricks made from fired clay, combined with steel and concrete. It was over thirty meters long, over ten meters wide, and its height was kept under three meters. From the outside, it looked like a rectangular pool with a stone brick lid.

The smelting system was essentially no different from the previous steel blast furnaces. It still used coal and charcoal for heating, with alchemical beasts positioned at the vents to continuously pump air into the furnace, raising the internal temperature and improving combustion efficiency. This time, however, Chris and Benoit took a novel approach. They ingeniously added Dragon’s Flame powder, a highly efficient alchemical combustion accelerant, and paired it with a fire-element amplification formation inscribed within the furnace. This allowed the new type of steel furnace to heat up rapidly and smelt with high efficiency.

If a steel furnace of this size were to smelt steel using conventional methods, simply removing impurities and slag would be a massive challenge. The quality of the finished steel would be impossible to stabilize, with carbon content fluctuating wildly, requiring workers to manually sort it for different uses.

But with the nine-circle formation constructed from the Shadow Dissolution spell, all previous concerns were eliminated. As long as pig iron was placed inside and melted, activating the formation would uniformly decompose the entire batch of steel at once, allowing for the selection and removal of useless and harmful impurities. Afterward, it could simply be smelted a second time.

There was still plenty of empty land in the Industrial Park established on the eastern outskirts of Starfire City. Harvey planned to build a new batch of these “Dissolution Furnaces” there. Together with the old cast iron kilns and steel blast furnaces, they would form a brand-new steel-smelting factory cluster.

Once construction of the “Dissolution Furnaces” was complete and they were put into mass production, not only would they bring a large number of stable jobs to Starfire City, but the territory’s steel output and quality would also increase by more than tenfold.

On this foundation, Harvey’s new round of plans for expanding production and development would have a more solid industrial guarantee.

…

In addition, Harvey also had new ideas for the development of new weapons at the magical munitions factory.

The original, primitive version of the Magical Energy Gun used a direct charging model and could only be fired five consecutive times before needing to be recharged. It had significant flaws in terms of use and supply and was quickly and mercilessly phased out.

The subsequently developed Magical Energy Gun Model One, however, used revolutionary “beetle bullets” and could be loaded with ten rounds for continuous fire, increasing its damage efficiency by more than several times. It quickly became the standard-issue weapon for the Northern Army.

As the army’s combat role gradually evolved from defending the pioneer territories to “engaging the enemy beyond our borders,” large numbers of soldiers needed to frequently leave the main base for long-range operations. Harvey, who by then had the assistance of the Alchemy Laboratory and alchemists like Chris, took the opportunity to improve and develop a magazine device for the Magical Energy Gun. This changed the reloading method from inserting bullets one by one after a firing cycle to using a magazine for loading and storage. The gun’s ammunition capacity was also upgraded to twenty rounds.

Later, the range and sighting components of the Magical Energy Gun Model One were improved again. After this upgraded version, named the Magical Energy Gun Model Two, was put into mass production, a wave of upgrades for the army’s main combat weapons began.

As the performance and structure of the Magical Energy Gun became increasingly refined, Harvey turned his attention to developing portable light weapons. The magic revolver was born as a result. It was not only issued to the army as a sidearm but was also equipped by the territory’s security forces, such as the Police Department and the Defense Force.

The subsequent development of the Magical Energy Machine Gun, the Magical-Powered Cannon, and the Magical Energy Naval Cannon goes without saying.

The munitions factory had always faced a rather stubborn problem in the manufacturing of all its weapons—the defect and scrap rates remained consistently high.

The filling of magical energy ammunition was handled by an assembly line composed entirely of alchemical beasts, with ordinary workers only responsible for casting the metal shell casings. The efficiency was high and the process was mature, so there were no major issues.

But the manufacturing of firearms was quite frustrating. The core component of all magical weapons involved alchemical beasts inscribing charging inscriptions onto barrels cast from enchanted metal. Weapon smiths would then assemble the barrel, stock, breech, and the trigger and sights. Finally, the quality inspection team would test-fire the weapon several times, and if there were no problems, it would come off the line certified.

The problem, however, always occurred in the first and most critical step: the barrel casting process. The cutting lathes built by Chris’s Alchemy Laboratory to Harvey’s specifications, whether operated by humans or alchemical beasts, were unable to consistently produce qualified enchanted barrels. They appeared fine at first glance, but during test firing, problems would emerge: blockage of the magical energy conduction path, failure of the magic stone to fire, and occasionally, a catastrophic barrel explosion.

Of course, Harvey and Chris knew perfectly well that all these problems stemmed from the raw material of the barrels—the inconsistent quality of the steel.

Now, with the advent of the Dissolution Furnace, all the difficult problems in weapon manufacturing would be readily solved.

At the very least, the Magical Energy Machine Gun, which had been impossible to mass-produce, could finally go into large-scale production. In addition, Harvey also planned to mass-produce a simplified version of the “Magical Energy Barrett” sniper rifle that had been used in the assassination of Grand Duke Ralph.

This way, in large-scale frontal engagements, the Magical-Powered Cannons and Naval Cannons would be responsible for suppressing enemies beyond one thousand meters. Key enemy units within eight hundred meters would be picked off by Magical Energy Sniper Rifles. Once enemies entered the five-hundred-meter range, machine guns and rifles would alternate in mowing them down. If any truly powerful, extraordinary enemies managed to break through to within the two-hundred-meter line, soldiers who had emptied their rifles could still draw their revolvers to provide covering fire for a retreat. In theory, this would ensure full coverage at every engagement distance, leaving no gaps for the enemy to exploit.

When he thought about the summer offensive that had to be postponed because the exploration team had encountered a non-human race’s advance party in the frozen lands, Harvey’s anxiety immediately transformed into brimming confidence.

How effective this setup would be against the unknown non-human races was still open to question, but for dealing with the Church and nobles in the south, it was more than enough.

Harvey thus decided to accelerate the strategic goal of “Securing the Borders, Pacifying the Interior” and stabilize the situation around Starfire City as quickly as possible. He would no longer employ a gentle, defensive counter-attack strategy. Instead, he would directly join forces with the Federation to launch a pincer attack on the Grand Duke of St. Valen and the allied forces of the Church.

He would completely wipe out the Church’s influence entrenched in the central part of the southern continent. If necessary, he had no issue with deposing the Grand Duke of St. Valen and taking his place.

As long as he could stabilize the situation in the south at top speed and absorb more territorial resources and a new labor force, Harvey couldn’t care less about public opinion or his secular reputation.

He only wanted to do his utmost to unite all the factions and groups in the south into a single force before the powerful non-human race enemy launched their full-scale invasion, to jointly resist this impending “war of extermination.”

Chapter 439: The Missing Grand Duke

Inside the Royal Court in St. Valen’s capital, Goldshine City.

Duke Ralph, a tall man with white hair and beard, paced back and forth in the garden corridor, angrily addressing a pale royal attendant. “Where on earth has His Majesty gone? I can’t believe it. Not even the Queen knows where he is!”

After surviving the attack by Harvey’s extraordinary assassins, Duke Ralph’s nerve had been completely shattered. Adhering to the noble principle of turning to the Church first when encountering hostile spellcasters, he had immediately requested aid from the Bishop of Light in Fengyuan City… but the eventual reply was that the Church’s extraordinary forces in St. Valen were currently engaged in combat with Da’ers on the border and had no spare manpower to protect the Duke’s safety.

The Archbishop of Fengyuan had even cautiously suggested that the Duke conceal his tracks and secretly travel to the capital to take temporary refuge, without alerting his retainers or family members, to ensure no news of his journey leaked out.

The Duke, already a startled bird, naturally complied with everything… but who could have expected that no sooner had he secretly arrived in the capital than the gates of his home city, Fengyuan, were blasted to pieces? After just one night of fighting, his elite Fengyuan Knightly Order was nearly annihilated, and all his relatives were captured.

That was the prosperous fiefdom the Ralph family had managed for generations. If he were to truly just hand it over, Ralph would likely lose his honored position as a Founding Duke.

He urgently sought the Grand Duke of St. Valen’s aid, but from the moment he arrived in the capital, he was told that His Majesty the Grand Duke had personally gone to the front lines. Yet when he sent men rushing to the front, he discovered to his horror that His Majesty was nowhere to be seen.

And so, the Grand Duke of St. Valen had vanished in plain sight.

“Your Grace, His Majesty has been extremely close with the Church in recent years. Before the war with Da’ers broke out, he was living in a temporary residence very close to the capital’s cathedral. He saw no one except for Church priests and his personal attendants…” In other words, to find His Majesty the Grand Duke, one would likely have to go through the Church to learn of his specific whereabouts.

“This is absurd! Does a vassal need the Church’s permission to see his own king?” Duke Ralph’s eyes widened in disbelief.

The Prime Minister and the Minister of State, who had hurried over with a number of other retainers, also crowded the corridor in the Royal Court’s inner garden. It wasn’t just Duke Ralph; these key ministers hadn’t seen His Majesty in person for over a year. If not for the documents, which they could see with their own eyes, being sent out from the Royal Court bearing His Majesty’s bloodline sigil, it would be hard not to suspect that he had been secretly assassinated.

The assembly of nobles and high officials waited in the Royal Court for the better part of the day before a tall, thin, and elderly figure slowly emerged from the inner court—it was the Archbishop of St. Valen!

The Archbishop, whose hair and beard were completely white but whose face looked like that of a middle-aged man, swept his gaze over the crowd and said in a deep voice, “Gentlemen, I have told you more than once that it is not convenient for His Majesty the Grand Duke to receive his subjects at this time. All government affairs are to be handled through discussion among the ministers and head priests…”

Before the ministers could speak, Duke Ralph pushed through the crowd and stepped forward, his expression grim. “Why is His Majesty unwilling to see me? If I hadn’t followed his summons and sent the majority of Fengyuan City’s knights and troops to reinforce the border, my fiefdom’s defenses wouldn’t have been so empty, and I wouldn’t have been nearly assassinated!”

He slapped the side sword at his waist and said through gritted teeth, “If His Majesty is unwilling to send troops to help me retake my fiefdom, then so be it… I request the return of the knights drafted to the front lines, so they may follow me back to Fengyuan City for a fight to the death with that detestable Mage Lord!”

A battle group of two thousand regular knights, supplemented by a large number of experienced mercenaries, was not a force to be underestimated anywhere in St. Valen. Duke Ralph naturally had this confidence.

The Archbishop’s brow furrowed, his expression tinged with impatience. “Our war with Da’ers is at a critical juncture. Even the Holy City of Goris is continuously sending reinforcements. And at a time like this, Your Grace wishes to withdraw his own knights?”

He paused, then glanced around at the nobles with displeasure. “What? Are you all planning to sit by and watch His Majesty the Grand Duke and the Church be defeated, to let those lawless spellcasters from the Federation make a comeback and repeat the disaster of the Rotting Plague outbreak in the capital?”

The ministers exchanged glances and lowered their heads… Compared to the arrogant spellcasters, the Church, which was much closer to the nobility, was certainly a more worthy ally, especially since they always seemed to be able to answer any plea in a time of crisis.

But Grand Duke Ralph was relentless. “Are we to simply ignore our own rear area? It’s true that Fengyuan City is my fiefdom… but that damned Mage Lord has captured it! That, plus the Grizzly Bear Territory on the northern border—this is a full third of the Duchy’s entire land area!”

He shot a look at the Archbishop and snorted coldly. “And… I’ve heard that this Mage Lord harbors extreme hatred for the Church. Whether it was your priests and clerics stationed there or the knights from the Army of Judgment you sent… all of them were driven out, imprisoned, or even hanged in public!”

These words finally provoked a young high-rank priest standing behind the Archbishop to speak up. “Your Grace, if you hadn’t refused to heed the advice of the Bishop of Fengyuan and insisted on proactively sending troops to harass the surrounding populace before the other party had even shown any hostility, leading to that so-called ‘surprise force’ being completely annihilated in the Northern Realm, Fengyuan City wouldn’t have fallen so easily, would it?”

His Majesty the Grand Duke had indeed instructed him to keep a close eye on that Mage Lord on the northern border. But Duke Ralph, who had always believed himself to be in a position of great power, had naturally seen the other party as a fat prize to be bullied and plundered at will. It could only be said that his defeat was well-deserved.

And the original plan of the Church and St. Valen’s allied forces—to first suppress the Federation’s forces in Da’ers and then turn back to focus on the Mage Lord on the northern border—had also come to nothing because of Duke Ralph’s rash underestimation of his enemy. Now the situation was reversed, and they were the ones caught in a pincer attack.

“But there is no need for any of you to panic. Our Army of Judgment legions stationed in Isengard and Goris are on standby, ready to quickly reinforce the St. Valen border at any moment…”

Before he could finish his reassuring words, a battle priest responsible for intelligence relays rushed in for an audience. “Archbishop, my lords… we’ve received a report. In the fallen Fengyuan City, that heretic… that Mage Lord Harvey is using the Ralph River to continuously reinforce the city with more troops!”

Fengyuan City was located in the central plains of St. Valen. The Ralph River transected it from east to west, with another tributary flowing from north to south. Without a doubt… this move was aimed at the capital, Goldshine City, which was situated downstream from Fengyuan City.

“Can you estimate the enemy’s current strength in Fengyuan City?”

“Well… their soldiers aren’t quartered inside the city. They’ve cordoned off a heavily guarded barracks area at the river docks. Our scouts can’t get a clear picture of what’s inside, but based on the ships that have arrived in the past few days, there are at least three thousand troops.”

The Archbishop narrowed his eyes and pressed, “I’ve heard that the Mage Lord’s soldiers all fight on foot and that he has no regular knights or extraordinary warriors. Does he rely solely on some kind of long-range magical weapon to inflict casualties?”

The young high-rank priest who had spoken earlier seemed quite knowledgeable on the subject and took the initiative to explain, “My Lord Archbishop, that man’s soldiers are indeed all mortals, but the weapons they use seem to be provided by the Federation… they’re similar to the magic artifacts they used to fight the Demons in the Evil Moon Mountain Range.”

He paused, glancing at Duke Ralph with some disdain before continuing, “As for the battle in which Fengyuan City was captured, the powerful magic artifact rumored to cause massive explosions… was nothing more than the result of the enemy sending spies in advance to plant Dragon’s Flame powder at Fengyuan’s gates and in the Military Barracks. Once detonated, it threw the city’s defenders’ morale into chaos, and they were routed on the spot without ever organizing an effective defense.”

His every word was laced with veiled sarcasm for Duke Ralph himself, mocking his cowardly act of abandoning his city to flee to the capital for safety.

The group discussed the potentially imminent battle for a while longer, but then the Minister of State suddenly tugged on Duke Ralph’s sleeve. The Duke immediately understood and said loudly, “Have you noticed? After all this talk… they still won’t let us see His Majesty.”

Chapter 440: Prelude to War

Duke Ralph’s shout immediately brought everyone back to their senses. The crux of the matter returned to seeing His Majesty in person.

Seeing that the surging crowd was becoming difficult to control, the Archbishop tugged at the corner of his mouth impatiently and said, “If you insist on seeing His Majesty, then follow me… Once you see him, you will naturally understand the difficult position I’m in.”

With that, he turned and strode toward the inner court of the Royal Court without a backward glance. The important ministers immediately hurried after him, with Duke Ralph at the very front.

The group went straight to His Majesty’s bedchamber. A few knights of the inner guard standing watch outside the door saw the approaching dignitaries and quickly knelt on one knee in salute. Only after receiving the Bishop’s permission did they open the bedchamber doors.

Ralph’s eyes immediately fell upon the Grand Duke of St. Valen, who lay on a lavish bed, his face ashen and his eyes tightly shut. The Duke rushed to the bedside and asked in alarm, “What’s wrong with His Majesty? Why is he unconscious!”

The other ministers also gathered around. “How could this be? Your Majesty… How was His Majesty injured? Why was this hidden for so long?”

The Archbishop let out a faint sigh, his gaze landing on the stunned and uncertain Duke Ralph with profound meaning. “Your Grace, do you believe you were the only one targeted for assassination by the Spellcasters?”

Upon hearing this, everyone gasped in unison.

His Majesty had also been the target of an assassination attempt by Spellcasters. And it seemed he hadn’t been as fortunate as Duke Ralph. Although he hadn’t died on the spot, he was seriously injured and unconscious… and he showed no signs of recovery.

A young, high-rank Priest said arrogantly, “If it were not for the Archbishop and several high priests from the Holy City taking turns every seven days to use high-rank divine arts to prolong His Majesty’s life, I’m afraid His Majesty would not have lasted this long, and you would not be seeing him now.”

Duke Ralph narrowed his eyes in alarm and said slowly, “The Federation… and that Mage Lord Harvey—are they trying to completely purge and wipe out all the nobles and royalty in St. Valen in one fell swoop?”

Had the Spellcasters’ hostility toward the nobility reached such a degree? Not even His Majesty, the Grand Duke, could escape assassination. Every powerful noble present broke out in a cold sweat.

Only then did the Archbishop speak languidly, “Gentlemen, are you still unwilling to cooperate with us fully, to stand together against these evil Spellcasters who have forsaken secular authority and faith in the divine?”

After that Mage Lord conquered a noble’s fiefdom, it wasn’t just Church clergy he hanged; nobles who refused to submit to him were not spared either.

…

In a street-facing apartment in Goldshine City, the capital of St. Valen.

Ever since Harvey launched a surprise attack on Fengyuan City and successfully seized Duke Ralph’s fiefdom, the status of the capital’s intelligence director, “Handle 007,” had soared. He was naturally promoted to Intelligence Chief for all of St. Valen. Even his colleagues in charge of Fengyuan City spoke of him with high praise, and the intelligence network he had painstakingly built in Goldshine City was now truly solidified.

Aside from his core intelligence officers who originally came from Starfire City, more than a year of operations had allowed 007’s reach to secretly extend into every level of the capital’s society. Under the guise of a trade director for the Faros Royal Merchant Guild, he moved within the upper circles of nobles and wealthy merchants, developing an exceptional sensitivity to all sorts of gossip from the Royal Court.

At the same time, using a mix of threats and inducements, he had taken de facto control of a mid-level underworld gang in the Lower District. He had bought informants among their thugs, beggars, streetwalkers, and pickpockets—for people who could earn money just by gathering and passing on information, these lowborns living at the bottom of society didn’t care who they were working for.

“His Majesty the Grand Duke was assassinated and seriously injured, and the Church is telling the nobles it was our doing?” 007 slammed his water cup on the table and sneered. “Ever since the Rotting Plague outbreak, their methods of framing and slander have remained just as predictable.”

Anvil, a direct victim of the Rotting Plague outbreak himself, couldn’t help but clench his fists in anger. “Those vile, shameless holy rollers!”

Forcing his anger down, he continued to report the information he had gleaned from Duke Ralph’s nephew. “For now, the Church has managed to unite the nobles of Goldshine City. They’re champing at the bit, preparing to face the City Lord’s army coming from Fengyuan City. Duke Ralph has volunteered to lead a few hundred men from the capital’s guard to the Alva River to blockade the waterway… They plan to use Dragon’s Flame powder to blow up the section of the river that is already narrow and full of reefs, completely cutting off our route to the capital by water.”

007 tapped the tabletop lightly. “Has this information been repeatedly confirmed?”

“As per our intelligence verification protocol, it’s been confirmed three times…” Anvil said with professional solemnity. “I heard it from the son of a noble…”

Another agent, handle “Groundhog,” had learned the same news from a Capital Guard soldier he’d befriended—that very soldier was one of those chosen for the task.

In addition, a female intelligence officer with the handle “Spider” had also overheard the same rumor mentioned discreetly in the idle chatter of family members in the home of a powerful official involved in the matter.

007 hummed in satisfaction. “Have the gang’s rats at the docks keep a close eye on this group’s movements. Report to me the moment they make a move.”

Blockading the river was not good news for the intelligence officers in Goldshine City. The City Lord’s army, of course, did not necessarily have to attack the capital by water. However, if the waterway was severely damaged, a large number of merchant ships traveling from the western territories to the north would be stopped at Goldshine City, making it difficult to supply the border regions with much-needed resources.

Moreover, reopening and restoring river transport later would be a troublesome affair. If they couldn’t find a way to stop this insane plan, he, as Intelligence Chief, would likely have to bear a certain degree of responsibility for the failure.

After discussing the most important business, Anvil pursed his lips and said resentfully, “They’re forcibly conscripting laborers all around the capital again, sending them to the border in a continuous stream. Their war with Da’ers has been going on for over half a year. We only see people leave… we never see them return.”

This widely known fact didn’t count as valuable intelligence.

007 paused for a moment. To prevent betrayal and exposure, agents were kept unaware of each other’s personal information. “You still have family in the countryside? Were they also conscripted?”

Anvil’s eyes reddened, and he gave a bitter smile. “My lord, they’re all dead… They didn’t make it on the road to the Northern Realm during the plague outbreak.”

His superior was suddenly at a loss for words of comfort. In the midst of the awkward silence… he suddenly heard a faint beeping sound from the bedroom.

007 immediately stood up and slipped into the bedroom. With practiced ease, he dragged the Magic Brain communication device out from under the bed. It was a direct order from Starfire City!

He only needed a quick glance for his heart to leap!

When he re-emerged from the bedroom, an irrepressible smile had already spread across his face. Anvil quickly came closer and asked, “My lord, are there new orders?”

“Hahaha!” 007 couldn’t hold back his laughter, his tone filled with an inexpressible joy and excitement. “Don’t worry about them blowing up the river.”

Anvil’s spirits lifted. “Are reinforcements coming to help us stop them?”

“No, no, no!” 007 shook his head and said bluntly, “The City Lord’s army has already departed from Fengyuan City, traveling downstream on ironclad ships. The nobles won’t even have time to block the river before they see the City Lord’s army at their very gates!”

Chapter 441: The Lion of the North (Part 1)

Harvey stood at the bow of the ironclad ship’s deck, gazing at the long fleet arrayed in a triangular formation behind him, a wave of emotion washing over him. Aside from the surprise attack on Fengyuan City, this journey to the capital, Goldshine City, could be considered his first time truly “leading the charge himself.”

Though, it was still in the form of controlling a soul puppet—the high-ranking officials and officers of Starfire City would never allow their City Lord to put himself in harm’s way.

This time, he was aboard a modified ironclad temporarily serving as the City Lord’s flagship. Compared to the other ordinary vessels equipped with only single-cylinder magical-powered engines, the flagship was not only larger, but its power system was also a dual-unit, making it much faster on the river.

The flagship’s onboard weaponry included a Magical Energy Naval Cannon at both the bow and stern, with a Magical Energy Machine Gun mounted on each side. Fixed to circular metal swivels, they could flexibly adjust their firing direction and angle, essentially providing a seamless defensive screen of fire.

Trailing the flagship were seven or eight conventional ironclads, their decks also crowded with heavily armed soldiers. As the fleet sailed along the wide Ralph River, the water churned into turbulent waves, further accentuating the indomitable momentum of this fleet, a veritable hegemon of the inland waterways.

“What’s the capital, Goldshine City… like?” battalion commander Dav asked with a look of longing. “Could it be even more prosperous and bustling than our Starfire City?”

Captain of the personal guard Tommy chuckled. “Impossible. Apart from the City of Magic, Araye, there’s no city in the south more prosperous and wealthy than our Starfire City.”

Wayne quickly chimed in with his agreement. The two of them had accompanied Harvey to Araye personally, making them among the few in the Northern Army who had “seen the world,” so they naturally had more of a right to speak than the others.

“Tsk, I’d really like to see what those big cities in the south, where so many people live, are like…” Vaughn muttered, adding in a low voice, “But not after we’ve conquered them, like Grizzly Keep and Fengyuan City…”

The proportion of half-orcs and other mixed-blood people in Starfire City was not insignificant. Most of the human refugees had lived and multiplied in the Northern Barren Lands for centuries, and more or less had some non-human blood mixed in, causing their builds and appearances to be distinctly different from the southerners—this was the main reason they were discriminated against and driven out.

Half-orcs like Vaughn and Dav, with their fierce faces and beastly features, were even less likely to be accepted by the people of the south and walk openly on the streets of a human city.

Harvey overheard the quiet discussion among his core officers behind him and turned with a smile. “Once we take the capital and end this conflict between mortals and Spellcasters, I will issue a decree throughout St. Valen. From that day forward, whether you’re a half-orc or of other mixed blood from the Northern Barren Lands… you will all be able to live as freely and equally as anyone else in the south, and will never again be enslaved or discriminated against.”

These words naturally prompted the many mixed-blood and half-orc officers behind him to drop to one knee, placing a hand over their chest in a salute. Many gazed at the Lord to whom they had pledged fealty, their eyes filled with fiery excitement and fervor.

…

Commander Pierce hurried onto the flagship’s deck. “My lord, just as the intelligence reported, a fleet from Goldshine City is anchored in the Alva River, more than ten kilometers away. Six single-masted sailboats, flying the insignia of the Capital Guard.”

Harvey nodded to show he understood, then turned and entered the ship’s command room. Inside the cramped space, less than six meters square, there was only a simple, long conference table fixed to the floor, upon which a map of the river section was spread.

Commander Pierce, Captain of the personal guard Tommy, Northern Army First and Second Battalion commanders Vaughn and Wayne, as well as the deputy leader of the Special Operations Squad, Dav, and the Artillery Battalion commander, Lynx, stood in a line on either side of Harvey, formulating a simple battle plan for the upcoming encounter.

Dealing with a few single-masted sailboats would not normally require such a fuss, but intelligence from the capital indicated that while the number of soldiers accompanying this fleet was small, each ship was fully loaded with flammable and explosive materials like Dragon’s Flame powder, fire oil, and whale blubber. This posed a certain risk whether they engaged in long-range bombardment or closed in for a boarding action.

If they were cornered, the enemy would likely detonate their ships to destroy the river mouth, directly cutting off Harvey’s fleet from its route to Goldshine City.

“My lord, if we could lure them out of the river mouth area and just blow them up on the open river, wouldn’t that solve the problem?” Vaughn’s thinking was as straightforward as he was.

Wayne said gravely, “How do we lure them out? The river around the Alva is flat and the view is wide open. The enemy will spot us from a great distance. Why would they dare to approach? Unless we launch a surprise attack from extremely far away, before they even notice us…”

Artillery Battalion commander Lynx shook his head. “My Lord, Commanders, it’s very difficult for our naval cannons to hit a moving target at long range. This isn’t a matter of capability; it’s the dual problem of both the enemy’s ships and our own ships moving simultaneously. Our hit rate would drop dramatically.”

Pierce’s face darkened. “Then tell me, how close do we need to get to hit them?”

Lynx shrank back slightly, holding up three fingers and answering cautiously, “Three hundred meters… Within three hundred meters, even with a moving target, I can guarantee that one shot will sink one enemy ship!”

Dav let out a snort, his voice booming gruffly, “Three hundred meters? What do we need your Artillery Battalion for? Our Special Operations Squad could just lie in ambush underwater beforehand. When they get close, wouldn’t it be better to just board their ships and fight?”

“What if the enemy gets desperate and just lights the fuse to blow themselves up? Aren’t you afraid you’ll all be blown sky-high with them?”

Harvey pinched the bridge of his nose and turned to look at Naval Officer Cadet Gutres, who was huddled in the corner of the command room. That’s right, for this external campaign, Harvey had brought his “fledgling navy” along, mainly for them to accumulate some experience in naval warfare.

“Gutres, what are your thoughts?”

All the high-ranking officers of Starfire City turned in unison to look at him, making the old helmsman, who had only ever served as a first mate on a merchant ship, so nervous his toes curled inside his boots.

Harvey waved his hand reassuringly. “It’s alright, speak freely. After all, you’re the only one here with years of experience sailing the inland rivers of the south. You must have frequently encountered conflicts with river pirates, right?”

Tommy quipped under his breath, “Does being a frequent target of robbery count as naval combat experience?”

“Uh, my Lord…” Gutres, a cadet with no ship to his name, felt a little insecure. After a long hesitation, he carefully suggested, “I think… we should disguise ourselves as a large merchant convoy loaded with valuable cargo, and lure them into leaving the river mouth to come and plunder us.”

“Huh?” Vaughn and Dav stared, their eyes wide.

Gutres quickly added, “Except for the Lord’s flagship, the other ironclads are similar in size to ordinary three-masted sailboats. If we just erect masts and hang some fake sails, we can easily be mistaken for large merchant ships. When they can’t resist the temptation and get within cannon range, we open fire immediately and sink them in the middle of the wide river. Then they won’t be able to block the river mouth.”

Wayne pressed him grimly, “Those are Capital Guard ships. Why would they act like common river pirates and plunder passing merchant vessels?”

Gutres gave a wry smile. “Commander, the Capital Guard is the largest organization of river pirates on the Ralph River… They may indeed look down on small merchant boats, but that’s because only the fleets of large merchant guilds are considered juicy targets. Even if a royal merchant guild from another kingdom passes by, they will ‘politely’ board the ships to collect a hefty toll.”

Tommy cursed in disgust, “Shameless, greedy noble army.”

Harvey and Pierce exchanged a look and said in unison, “This is an excellent plan. We’ll do it!”

“Relay my orders! The flagship will hang back. The other ships will move forward. The four leading vessels will all raise their masts and sails, and pile the military supplies used for ballast on their decks to disguise themselves as fully loaded merchant ships!”

Chapter 442: The Lion of the Northern Realm (Part 2)

The Capital Guard fleet sent to blockade the Alva River mouth was nominally under Duke Ralph’s command. In reality, all the dispatched soldiers were men belonging to Guard Captain Kerk.

Kerk was a properly invested knight. His father was a court baron with no fiefdom, so naturally, the title could not be passed down to him. As an honorary title, it was considered the lowest rank among the nobility.

To be able to fly the banner of Duke Ralph, following him on this mission to blockade the river and stop the enemy, Kerk considered it a huge stroke of luck. Not only would he be handsomely rewarded for his merits later, but just during the blockade, he could skim a considerable amount of profit from the passing merchant fleets.

Other nobles would naturally not stoop to extorting tolls from merchant fleets, but Kerk had no such qualms. Ordinary merchant fleets wouldn’t dare to offend the Capital Guard, and even if they encountered nobles or royal caravans from other nations, they had the illustrious Duke Ralph as a shield. As long as they weren’t excessively greedy, they could successfully complete the mission to blockade the river mouth while Kerk and his trusted subordinates made a killing.

Bringing this substantial profit back to the capital, he could offer a portion to the powerful figures holding key positions in the Royal Court. With them lobbying on his behalf, he might truly have a chance to be enfeoffed as a true hereditary noble.

At this thought, Kerk couldn’t help but glance at Duke Ralph, who was sitting beside him drinking. Yesterday, they had stopped a merchant fleet flying the flag of Maple Leaf City from the Barkley Duchy. Although the fleet’s leader repeatedly stated he had a business partnership with a certain baron in Goldshine City, Kerk, without another word, detained the fleet overnight on the grounds that they had not been given prior notice. In the end, he forced the other party to pay a toll of fifty gold pounds, and his soldiers even took the opportunity to carry off several barrels of fine wine clearly meant for the upper class.

Duke Ralph, who had always been fond of drinking, simply turned a blind eye to this, tacitly approving of their open extortion in the river channel.

Kerk thought to himself, It seems that after losing his fiefdom and his knightly order, this once-illustrious Founding Duke has lost most of his spirit.

A soldier on lookout duty came clattering down from the deck. “Chief, another fleet is coming from the east!”

“The east?” Duke Ralph put down his wine cup and stood up, pressing, “Did you get a clear look? Are they warships or merchant ships? Are their sails raised?”

Kerk took the spyglass from his subordinate, walked onto the deck, and looked out. On the Ralph River in summer, a mist was rising from the water. Though they were still at a great distance, he could faintly make out tall masts on the approaching ships, their three sails swollen with wind.

Three-masted sailing ships! They had to be either a major merchant guild from Oland or a royal caravan from one of the central kingdoms!

“His Grace the Duke said the enemy’s ships are strange, sailless vessels.” Kerk beamed and rubbed his hands together, instructing a subordinate, “Go down and inform the Duke it’s not an enemy attack, just a passing merchant fleet from another nation.”

This was a big, fat sheep!

“Chief! Why have they suddenly stopped?” his trusted deputy suddenly asked, puzzled.

Kerk quickly raised his spyglass again and saw that the fleet had abruptly slowed down less than one and a half kilometers from the river mouth, bringing the ships to a dead stop in the middle of the river. Then, the lead ship slowly began to turn broadside… as if it intended to use its momentum to turn around on the spot.

“Damn it! Did they spot us?” Kerk slapped his thigh, both anxious and angry. “We’ve only been guarding this place for two days. How could they have gotten wind of us already?”

The deputy thought for a moment and guessed, “Could the leader of that merchant fleet from Maple Leaf City have leaked the news yesterday? These caravans always have close ties, and they use carrier pigeons to send urgent messages.”

Damn it! That must be it! I can’t let this fat sheep I’m about to fleece get away!

Kerk threw up his hand and gave a sharp wave, shouting his orders, “All hands! Raise sail and row! We’ll chase them down, cut around to their rear, and intercept that fleet!”

The three-masted sailing ships were as slow as turtles. The Capital Guard’s two-masted, shuttle-shaped warships were several times faster. If they raised their sails and rowed, they could block them in no time.

With the Guard Captain’s personal order, the six two-masted warships guarding the river mouth all sprang into action. No one wanted to be left behind, afraid they’d miss out on the spoils if they were slow. For a moment, they were practically racing each other on the river.

As the two-masted warships drew closer, the giant three-masted ship that had turned completely broadside in the middle of the river came into clear view. Kerk’s brow furrowed, and his mouth fell open. “Good heavens, what in the world is that thing?”

The ship’s hull was smooth and pitch-black, with a faint metallic sheen. Its bow was sharp as a shuttle, topped with a massive wedge-shaped ram. The entire hull’s draft was more than halfway submerged; just looking at it, one could imagine how heavy the strange iron ship must be.

And in Kerk’s eyes, the masts on its deck—so crude they weren’t even coated in tung oil—and the canvas sails, whose size seemed completely out of proportion, appeared utterly mismatched with the iron ship itself.

This is no ordinary merchant ship!

Suddenly, a few deep rumbles like rolling thunder echoed in their ears, followed immediately by the cracking sound of a hull splintering and breaking. A leading shuttle-shaped warship, as if struck by an invisible tidal wave, was thrown onto its side. The violent impact sent soldiers on its deck flying into the water.

“It’s the enemy! The enemy from Fengyuan City!” Duke Ralph, who had fallen to the rear of the fleet, finally came to his senses. He recognized the ironclad ship disguised as a sailing vessel and shouted a warning to Kerk on the adjacent ship, “Their iron ships have terrifying magical weapons! Follow me, turn back to the river mouth! We’ll destroy that section of the river and then retreat!”

Kerk’s warship was fortunate enough not to have been attacked. He swallowed hard, looking at the other warships that were now bunched together in their haste to turn around. Clenching his jaw, he ordered, “Those idiots have completely blocked the path of retreat! There’s no time to turn. We’re heading for the bank!”

According to rumor, this Mage Lord from the Northern Realm possessed many powerful and terrifying magical weapons. Engaging them rashly would be suicide. Besides, their target was surely the more important Duke Ralph. The iron ship would definitely chase the Duke toward the river mouth to stop them from destroying the waterway.

If we don’t flee now, we’ll lose our chance!

Kerk shoved his panicked deputy aside and ran to the stern to take the helm himself. He screamed at the top of his lungs, “Row for all you’re worth! Head for the shore! Beach the ship, don’t worry about hitting the reefs!”

The soldiers on deck were in a state of chaos, but many still returned to the lower deck, picked up their oars, and began to row with all their might. Kerk looked back in horror and saw the two warships that had just been heavily struck. A massive hole had been blown in the middle of one’s hull, right at the waterline. Icy river water was pouring madly into the hold. The soldiers rowing inside were undoubtedly the unluckiest; struck from the enemy ship hundreds of meters away by some unknown weapon, the projectile had pierced the hull and then exploded inside the warship. Thick blood and the mangled entrails of the dead were strewn everywhere, staining the surrounding river water a deep crimson.

Those on deck were no better off. The ones thrown into the water at least had a chance to swim to shore and escape, but those pinned beneath the collapsing, broken mast could only go down with the rapidly sinking warship.

The screams of the wounded and the cries of those in the water mingled together. On top of that, a red glow would occasionally flash from the bow and stern of the iron ship opposite them, followed by another thunderous roar. The warships bunched up in the middle of the river were hit again and again. A few ships, already loaded with large quantities of fire oil and Dragon’s Flame powder, were blown apart and burst into raging flames.

As the last roar hit, Kerk watched, frozen in terror… Duke Ralph’s warship, which had been escaping the fastest, was struck squarely in the stern. Even its massive rudder was blasted into the air.

Chapter 443: The Enemy is at the Gates (Part 1)

Shuttle-shaped warships were originally the most agile and swift type of vessel on inland rivers, but it was their uniquely slender hulls that made them prone to swaying when stopping or turning sharply in the waterways. When several warships attempted to turn in unison, they would devolve into a tangled mess, leaving none of them able to move.

One shuttle boat, which had been lucky enough to avoid a direct hit from the cannonade, collided with a fellow vessel behind it amid the helmsman’s panicked maneuvers. Under the combined force of the current and the impact, its bow rode up and onto the other ship’s deck, crushing the dozens of long oars that extended from its hull into splinters.

Soldiers and sailors leaped into the water to escape. Those unfortunate enough to have their limbs broken by the shattered deck and collapsing mast in the collision could only howl and writhe in agony on the gradually sinking deck, leaving behind a trail of stark, jarring bloody streaks.

Kerk’s warship had just managed to break free from the center of the river and was preparing to turn its bow for a desperate charge toward the bank. Suddenly, from behind the massive enemy ship that had blocked their path, a slightly smaller but equally jet-black iron vessel shot out.

The enemy seemed to have targeted Kerk’s ship, this “rat” that was about to escape the fray, and it pursued them at an unimaginable speed.

Seeing that their speed toward the bank was no match for the enemy’s pursuit, Kerk fell into despair. But then he suddenly noticed that this ship didn’t seem to be equipped with those terrifying magical weapons.

He snatched the spyglass from his second-in-command and stared intently. He saw that the weapons spitting fire were fixed at the bow and stern of the iron ship. The stern weapon naturally couldn’t hit them from this angle… and by the bow weapon, a few unarmored soldiers were gathered, seemingly running around in a state of panic.

Their magical weapon had malfunctioned!

Kerk took a deep breath, sensing that his opportunity had arrived!

If he abandoned ship and fled back to the capital, even if he survived, he would be charged with a crime severe enough to warrant hanging for deserting Duke Ralph. Any chance of being ennobled as a hereditary noble would be utterly lost.

His only chance was to mount some sort of counterattack. Even if he only sank or defeated a single enemy vessel, he could use it to claim credit with the powerful figures of the Royal Court back home. While the other warships were sitting ducks waiting for death, at least he, Kerk, had fought bravely and destroyed an enemy ship.

And this was a magical ship of a Mage Lord!

“Their magical weapon has failed! If you don’t want to die, raise your crossbows and weapons!” Kerk yelled hoarsely. “The enemy on that ship is flesh and blood, just like us, and they’re not even wearing armor! Follow me, board their ship, and slaughter these lowborn cowards hiding in their turtle shells!”

He slapped the coin purse at his waist. “Anyone who boards with me gets a gold pound as a reward! For every enemy you kill, I’ll request a knighting ceremony for you from His Majesty’s Chief Knight!”

Under the dual temptation of money and status, the eyes of these guards—men who were already accustomed to bullying the weak and extorting people in the capital—turned red. Even if not for the money, the promise of knighthood was enough for them to risk it all.

Just as the warship was about to a have head-on collision with the enemy vessel, it deftly turned to starboard, pulling up alongside the iron-clad ship’s right side. The two ships were now parallel on the river, only a few meters apart. The soldiers raised their grappling lines and long hooks, common tools for boarding actions, preparing to quickly pull the ships together and start the slaughter.

Just then, the soldiers in uniform black cloth coats standing in a row on the enemy ship’s deck all revealed the exact same expression—a contemptuous, predatory grin.

Then, in perfect unison, the black-clad soldiers raised the strange, long, silver iron tubes in their hands.

Before Kerk could react, a blinding white light erupted from the front of the iron tubes!

Among the soldiers crowded on the deck, preparing to board the enemy ship, mists of blood suddenly exploded. Splintered pieces of the mast and fresh blood sprayed everywhere. Like ears of wheat reaped by an invisible scythe, the guard soldiers fell to the deck in droves.

Those who reacted in time immediately rolled and scrambled for cover. Many crawled and stumbled into the ship’s cabin. Kerk himself was pulled behind the thick mast by his second-in-command, finding a brief moment to catch his breath.

But soon, the hum of a much fiercer weapon rang out. Kerk couldn’t help but peek his head out slightly. He saw a bizarrely shaped weapon positioned mid-deck on the enemy ship. It looked a lot like the Dragon’s Flame projectors on the capital’s walls, only its barrel was longer and thicker, and it spat an orange-red light.

Behind the iron tube stood what was clearly an ordinary enemy soldier. He seemed to have no interest in aiming at the survivors on the deck. Instead, with a cold expression, he swept the weapon across the hull below the deck, moving slowly from left to right.

He was going to attack the men hiding in the cabins, right through the thick outer hull!

As Kerk had anticipated, the sounds of the hull shattering were incessant. Even through the deck, he could hear the horrific noises of flesh and blood being torn apart from within the cabin. The men below decks didn’t even have time to scream.

Wherever the iron tube pointed, it was as if the Grim Reaper himself swung his scythe. By the time it had swept across the hull and aimed at the deck once more, even the mast couldn’t withstand the terrifying magical attack and came crashing down with a creak.

Kerk tried to dodge. He had just rolled out of the way of the falling mast when a dense rain of Magical Energy Bullets instantly engulfed him.

…

“City Lord, the soldiers cleaning up the battlefield fished a lavishly dressed body out of the river. He seems to be the enemy commander.”

“Hm…” Harvey stood on the main ship’s deck and glanced over. “Perhaps a noble from the capital, tasked with leading this fleet to intercept us.”

In truth, Harvey didn’t know a single noble. No matter how distinguished their family or how lofty their status, he crudely divided them all into two categories in his mind.

One category consisted of those like the new Earl Fegan, the Shepherd Knight, and Sir Ross—men who could be reformed and had some value.

The other category was the type before him now: stubborn and insistent on resisting. Their fate was to either die on the battlefield or at the execution block after a people’s trial.

Wayne walked over, a look of puzzlement on his face as he examined the body. Then he leaned in and whispered in Harvey’s ear, “My lord, this man looks familiar. I think I’ve seen him before… I believe he’s Duke Ralph!”

Harvey was taken aback. “Really?”

“I observed him very carefully back then through the alchemical sights of my magic sniper rifle. His build and appearance are indeed very close to Duke Ralph’s,” Wayne said with some chagrin. “It’s a pity Mr. Eye of Illusion and Ms. Astrologer aren’t here. They would certainly be able to identify him.”

“A duke is a duke. It’s not like we needed to capture him alive anyway.” Harvey waved his hand dismissively. He then turned and gave an order to Pierce. “We’re already very close to the capital, Goldshine City. Have the fleet proceed at full speed. At dawn tomorrow…”

We’ll knock directly on the gates of the capital.

Chapter 444: The Enemy is at the Gates (Part 2)

“My lord, the capital is truly strange… The docks aren’t built outside the city walls. They’ve diverted the river right into the city,” said Tommy, the Captain of the personal guard responsible for reconnaissance, clicking his tongue in surprise. “They’ve built the docks right inside the city.”

“Oh?” Harvey was slightly surprised, but on second thought, it seemed normal. After all, Goldshine City was located in the peaceful and stable center of the continent. Aside from the occasional raids by vile orcs in the northern border regions, it had practically never experienced war in its more than one hundred years of existence.

Besides being the capital of the Duchy of St. Valen, it was practically an “upgraded version” of Fengyuan City, with almost double the population.

Moreover, the successive Grand Dukes of St. Valen had always maintained a close relationship with the Radiant Church. They had always been crowned by the Pope to assume the esteemed position of Grand Duke. The Cathedral of Splendor within Goldshine City was the most magnificent one in the entire central region of the south, its fame rivaling that of the Cathedral of Divine Grace in the Holy City of Goris.

Yet this prosperous capital, which had rarely experienced war and where the people settled down to live and work in peace, had repeatedly suffered. First, due to the Church’s conspiracies and the nobles’ greed, a corrupting plague spread throughout the nation, bringing undeserved disaster upon countless commoners. Then, they actively instigated military conflict with the Spellcasters, making the people suffer under heavy taxes and hard labor during the war with the neighboring country.

From his perspective as a Spellcaster, Harvey naturally couldn’t comprehend the intentions and goals of the Grand Duke of St. Valen and the Church’s alliance. He would never believe it was purely out of steadfast faith and loyalty to the Holy See.

Kings and Grand Dukes, who stood at the apex of secular power, would never be so gullible and pious.

Now, intelligence from their personnel in the capital reported that the Grand Duke, just like Duke Ralph, had been assassinated by Spellcasters. Harvey and Astaren concluded that the entire capital of Goldshine City had likely fallen completely into the Church’s control.

According to the agreement made with the three Chiefs of the Federation before dispatching the troops, the objective of Harvey’s large-scale military operation was to capture Goldshine City as quickly as possible. This would force the various domestic lords and vassals with troops stationed at the border to withdraw and reinforce the capital. Meanwhile, the Federation’s Mage Corps, not needing to contend with mortal armies, could focus on dealing with the pressure from the Church.

But the Chiefs had also given Harvey a serious warning. If Goldshine City could not be captured quickly… within half a month at the earliest, he would likely face the Church’s Army of Judgment, dispatched as reinforcements from Goris or Isengard. At that point, the Federation would not have any spare capacity to rescue him from facing enemies on two fronts.

“Unable to capture it quickly? Within half a month?” Pierce sneered, his face grim. “Facing enemies on two fronts? Those Master Mages of the Federation are really underestimating you, my lord.”

He clenched his fist, struck his chest, and dropped to one knee before Harvey. “My lord,” he requested, “please allow me to take command immediately. After we reach the capital at dawn, I only need half a day… I will capture the capital’s main gate for you.”

Harvey didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. To say the Federation underestimated him… they had dared to entrust him with the heavy responsibility of brazenly attacking a nation’s capital. But to say they valued him… they were worried he would suffer a defeat and be encircled by the Church’s reinforcements.

“There’s no need to underestimate the enemy and advance rashly over a matter of pride. Tomorrow at dawn, when we arrive outside the capital, I want you to hold your position… and do just one thing.”

Pierce frowned and asked in confusion, “You want me to… do what?”

“Knock on their door with cannons.”

The night was dark. While the Northern Realm’s fleet of warships was still speeding along the Ralph River several kilometers from the capital, a much faster “special surprise force” had already arrived on the outskirts of Goldshine City.

After completing the battle of annihilation at the mouth of the Alva River, the ironclad ships had temporarily docked to drop off a fifty-man unit of Bloodline Warriors. This Special Operations Squad, led by Vaughn and Dav, rode swift off-road Magic Motorcycles, speeding through the countryside like lightning to reach the capital ahead of the main force.

They were here to scout the capital’s situation and survey the battlefield terrain in advance… and, if necessary, to sneak into the city to meet and coordinate with their intelligence personnel.

“Chief, there’s a group of men who look like militia outside the city gate. They seem to be busy carrying and burying something.”

Vaughn nodded. “Are there soldiers stationed on the riverbank?”

“Militia as well. They don’t even have armor, just like us. It looks like their weapons aren’t fully equipped either. Many of them are just carrying sharpened wooden spears.”

Dav rubbed his hands together and suggested eagerly, “How about we use these little rats for some practice? Crushing them would be as easy as crushing an ant.”

Vaughn immediately shook his head and refused. He felt that something was amiss.

They had deliberately sent word of Duke Ralph’s death back to the capital. Logically, the nobles of Goldshine City should have been setting up defenses along both banks of the river leading into the city to prevent the Lord’s fleet from entering directly.

Even if they didn’t deploy a heavy blockade on the riverbanks, the city’s water gate should have been guarded, right? Weren’t the nobles’ traditional methods for repelling an enemy to deploy large numbers of archers and crossbowmen, use fire oil and rolling logs, and even set up catapults on the walls to attack from a commanding height?

But now, the enemy seemed to have completely abandoned the tactical advantage of their first line of defense. They had retreated to the inner city, leaving them a safe place to land. No matter how he looked at it, it just didn’t make sense.

“Let’s wait. After they leave later tonight, we’ll go see what kind of traps or mechanisms these militia have been burying on the riverbank.”

And things turned out just as Vaughn had expected. After midnight, once the conscripted laborers and soldiers had left, they secretly crept over to the riverbank near the water gate. From the hastily filled and covered pits, they dug up barrel after sealed barrel of a black powder.

“Whoa! Dragon’s Flame powder!” Dav’s eyes widened, and he stuck out his tongue in amazement. “To repel our attack, the capital’s nobles are really sparing no expense!”

The formula for the Dragon’s Flame powder made by the Alchemical Exploration Society was complex, and it was expensive to produce. Adding small amounts to spellcasting components or magical energy ammunition was cost-effective, but burying it barrel by barrel in the ground for crude use as “landmines” was truly a waste.

Vaughn scratched his head and guessed, “I heard that when they were expelling Spellcasters within St. Valen, the Alchemists suffered cruel persecution as well. These were probably confiscated by the Church and the nobles… They almost certainly don’t know its proper use and are just treating it as a simple explosive.”

“Let’s dig them all up and take them with us!”

Vaughn shook his head. “How are we supposed to carry several hundred barrels? Just take this intelligence back… the Lord and the Commander will know what to do.”

As dawn broke, the soldiers on the capital’s walls immediately spotted dozens of thick, white pillars of smoke rising from the Ralph River in the distance—the Mage Lord of the Northern Realm was approaching the capital with his mighty fleet of ironclads.

News of the enemy’s sighting was quickly relayed back to the Royal Court in the inner city.

The Archbishop of St. Valen stood beside the throne with a grim expression, looking down at the gloomy and worried crowd of ministers and dignitaries below.

“What are you panicking about?” He snorted coldly with extreme impatience. “Our walls are strong and our troops are plentiful. We’ve even lined the only waterway entrance with a large amount of Dragon’s Flame powder. As long as that heretic’s fleet dares to pass through the water gate, we will detonate it immediately, collapsing the walls on both sides and burying his flagship under tons of rubble!”

As long as they defended the capital and prevented it from falling, reinforcements from the Holy City would arrive in ten days at most. When that time came, he was eager to see how this Mage Lord’s mortal soldiers would fare against the extraordinary warriors of the Holy City’s Army of Judgment!

Before he could continue rebuking these panicked ministers, who were running around like headless chickens, a muffled, thunderous roar suddenly echoed from the direction of the outer city, rumbling across the sky.

A short while later, a knight of the Capital Guard, covered in dust and grime, rushed into the Royal Court and collapsed at the Archbishop’s feet.

“Your Excellency! It’s terrible! They… They didn’t enter the city through the waterway! From a great distance, using some unknown means, they detonated the Dragon’s Flame powder buried on both sides of the river, collapsing a section of the wall in the process!”

What?

All the nobles present gasped in unison.

“They… aren’t planning to enter through the waterway?” the Archbishop also asked in disbelief, swallowing hard.

The knight said in a trembling voice, “The waterway has collapsed. They landed directly on the bank outside the city. Several thousand soldiers in black have moved around to the land gate about two hundred and fifty meters away and have assumed a siege formation.”

Just then, a high-rank Priest in white robes hurried in and handed a snow-white letter to the Archbishop. The envelope was stamped with both the Federation sigil and an unfamiliar crest depicting a tall castle tower shining alongside a golden star. This Mage Lord from the Northern Realm was blatantly declaring to them that his attack on the capital was a joint effort with the Federation.

The Archbishop tore open the envelope, his face grim. He unfolded the thin sheet of paper inside and found a single, exceptionally simple, yet incredibly arrogant and jarring word written in the common tongue of the south.

“Open the gate!”

Chapter 445: The Battle for the Capital

In a bastion on the western wall of the capital, Dickinson, Chief Knight to the Grand Duke of St. Valen, paced back and forth anxiously. From time to time, he took a spyglass from his subordinate to observe the enemy’s movements outside the city.

To be honest, Dickinson himself didn’t understand how the Duchy’s situation had deteriorated to this point.

Using the extraordinary abilities of the Federation’s Spellcasters to solidify his rule, relying on the Church’s faith to maintain public stability… As an agent of secular royal authority, His Majesty the Grand Duke should have understood the principle of checks and balances, and strived to maintain the fragile peace between the Church and the Spellcasters.

Yet a single plague of corruption, its true origins unclear, had shattered the balance in an instant. The Spellcasters were persecuted and expelled, allowing the Church’s power to suddenly grow unchecked. With His Majesty the Grand Duke severely injured and unconscious, the Archbishop had virtually become the de facto ruler of Goldshine City.

And now, he seemed hell-bent on engaging this notoriously fearsome Northern Lord in a life-or-death battle at the capital.

Caught in the middle between the Church and the Spellcasters were the wavering, fence-sitting nobles… and tens of thousands of terrified, helpless, innocent commoners.

The sound of rustling footsteps came from behind. Dickinson collected his thoughts, let out a long sigh, and turned. “Your Excellency, the high priest, you needn’t have come in person… The enemy outside the walls is not making any moves at present.”

The middle-aged priest snorted coldly. “The Bishop ordered me to supervise the battle. I will tolerate no negligence… Why are your Royal City soldiers cowering? Why is their morale so low?”

Dickinson gave a bitter smile, unsure how to explain. When nobles deployed their troops, they at least knew to promise bounties or positions before a battle. At the very least, they would improve the soldiers’ food or pay their overdue stipends in full.

But the Church had no such sense. They expected these commoner soldiers to die for them on the strength of words alone. Did they really think everyone was a devout believer from the Holy City, their heads filled with nothing but dogma and scripture?

“It is rumored that the Northern Lord possesses a powerful magical weapon that can kill opponents instantly from a great distance… The soldiers do not fear battle, they simply do not wish to die in vain.”

The priest’s brow furrowed, and he snapped, “Absurd! No matter how powerful a magical weapon is, it must be controlled by a Spellcaster. How many Spellcasters can there be among the heretics from the Northern Realm? In our border war with Da’ers, the Mage Corps sent by the Federation numbered a mere three hundred or so!”

A mere three hundred or so? That Mage Corps of three hundred, with the help of the Esoteric Society’s Alchemists, had tied down nearly a thousand of the Church’s Army of Judgment and battle priests, as well as the three-thousand-strong noble coalition army dispatched by all the lords of St. Valen.

Of course, Dickinson could only curse inwardly about such matters, not daring to voice his resentment.

For a knight, protection and loyalty were the highest honors. As His Majesty the Grand Duke’s Chief Knight, he had shouldered the solemn duty of defending the capital since the day he was knighted. Regardless of what had caused the current situation, Dickinson believed he had to fulfill this responsibility.

Before mounting the walls to face the enemy, he had taken out all the gold pounds and silver coins stored in his estate and distributed them to the elite soldiers of his most trusted Capital Guard squad. This elite force of just under five hundred men would be Dickinson’s greatest asset in defending the eastern section of the wall.

…

“My lord! The enemy outside the city is on the move! It looks like they’re preparing to attack!” Dickinson’s squire ran into the bastion.

The Chief Knight ignored the supervising priest, turned, and said decisively, “Relay my orders! All soldiers on the western wall to their positions! Ballistae and catapults, prepare to fire! Have the fire oil, rolling stones, and battering logs ready!”

No matter how powerful and terrifying the enemy’s magical weapons were, they would still have to climb the walls with their own flesh and blood. When a siege reached its most intense phase, close-quarters combat was unavoidable.

He raised the spyglass again, only to find that the enemy outside the city was not advancing immediately. Instead, farther away on the Ralph River, nine ironclad ships had lined up parallel to the bank. These ships occasionally spewed thick white smoke from their tops. With no sails or oars, he had no idea how they navigated the river. Fortunately, the waterway into the city had already been collapsed. No matter how sturdy, iron ships couldn’t come ashore to participate in a land siege.

“What are those iron ships trying to do?” The supervising priest also picked up a spyglass, puzzled. “Do they intend to use their sturdiness to ram through the massive stones blocking the waterway? A single one of those stones must weigh over five hundred kilograms…”

Impossible… Dickinson also found it strange. Since they had already arranged their forces to attack the city gate, it was unlikely they would try to enter through the waterway again. An entire section had collapsed, completely blocking it off… There was no way a ship could ram its way through.

He was just about to explain this to the supervising priest when, among the ironclad ships lined up on the riverbank, the front of one suddenly lit up with a blazing ball of fire.

It was as bright as the morning sun at dawn, then vanished in a flash.

A few breaths later, a muffled clap of thunder exploded in Dickinson’s ears. Accompanying the roar… was a massive pillar of earth and dust erupting from the ground less than five meters from the city wall.

“Did the enemy plant Dragon’s Flame powder at the foot of the wall?” A chill ran down the Chief Knight’s spine. He personally inspected every part of the wall daily and had his trusted soldiers patrol at night. How had these northerners managed to sneak up to the base of the wall unnoticed?

Before he could figure out what was happening, another flash of fire appeared in the distance… It was the same deep roar, but this time, what exploded was the middle section of the wall, not far from the city gate.

Rubble rained down as a huge crater was blown into the wall. Dickinson could even faintly feel the entire section of the wall trembling slightly from the blast through the soles of his feet.

It wasn’t Dragon’s Flame powder. It was a magical weapon!

The middle-aged supervising priest stumbled back a few steps in disbelief, muttering, “Didn’t the ones who escaped say… the magical weapons they have are those silver metal tubes the heretics hold in their hands? Why…”

At that very moment, a bolt of thunder and lightning struck the top of the wall!

The sound of the explosion was so immense it was as if a thunderclap had gone off right next to his ear.

A section of the battlement suddenly disintegrated, sending dust and stone fragments flying in all directions. The entire wall shook and swayed violently, and even the bastion seemed on the verge of collapse.

Dickinson scrambled out, staggering. He steadied himself with one hand on the wall and the other on his sword to keep from falling. His ears were ringing… He could see the chaos that had erupted on the wall, but he couldn’t hear a thing.

The Chief Knight had only a brief moment to catch his breath. As soon as a sliver of his hearing returned, he grabbed a member of the Capital Guard who was fleeing in panic, about to berate him for abandoning his defensive position at the battlement…

The thunderous explosions, with world-shattering force, slammed into the top of the wall one after another.

Dickinson could only watch as the supervising priest, just a few steps away, was instantly struck by a piece of flying stone from an unknown direction. Half of his head was smashed to pieces… Brains splattered as his body slumped limply onto the battlement, thick blood gushing down the wall.

The thunder from afar did not stop; in fact, it seemed to be growing more intense.

I can’t just wait here to die! The Chief Knight staggered to his feet, preparing to get down from the wall. He had another squad of the guard stationed at the gate. As long as he got away from the top of the wall, the magical attacks from a distance couldn’t possibly get through the wall into the city.

As long as I defend the gate…

Suddenly, he heard another explosion, extremely close. The stone steps he was on, leading down from the wall, abruptly shattered beneath his feet, and he nearly missed his footing and fell off.

Faintly, from the direction of the city gate below, he heard the chaotic sounds of men and horses falling in utter disarray. It seemed a soldier was screaming at the top of his lungs—

“Run for your lives! They’ve breached the gate!”

Chapter 446: Deterrence Offensive

A continuous artillery barrage lasting half an hour had the Northern Realm army, arrayed outside the city and ready to attack, filled with pent-up frustration.

“How much longer are these artillerymen going to bombard?” Dav stomped his foot and cursed under his breath as Commander Pierce walked away. “They’ve already blasted the city walls into a sieve. Aren’t they satisfied yet?”

Even the usually steady Vaughn couldn’t help but frown. “If they keep up this bombardment, I’m afraid the entire section of the wall will collapse. Are we supposed to climb over the ruins to enter the city?”

Wayne glanced from side to side, then leaned in to whisper to his two close comrades, “Before the battle, I heard the City Lord give the Commander an order to first launch a ‘Deterrence Offensive’… I guess that’s why those guys in the Artillery Battalion are wasting shells so recklessly.”

Dav’s eyes widened. “How is just bombarding the city walls a deterrent? At most, the shockwaves will kill a few hundred city guards.”

The ironclad ships were firing solid shot, which was highly effective at destroying fixed defenses like city walls and gates, but their killing power against enemies was far less than that of bursting shells.

But Harvey’s goal was never to remotely annihilate a large number of the capital’s soldiers defending the walls at the outset of the battle… His objective was merely to destroy the defensive forces deployed on the walls, clearing a safe passage for the true “Deterrence Offensive” to follow.

Three airships had departed from Fengyuan City three days after the fleet, yet they managed to arrive at the capital at almost the same time. This was also an experiment for Harvey, an attempt to deploy the aerial vehicles in actual combat to observe their effectiveness.

In an instant, friend and foe alike, nearly everyone witnessed the behemoths slowly emerging from the thick clouds—three vessels, each equipped with eight separate gasbags. Their gondolas carried Magical Energy Machine Guns that could swivel to fire in any direction, as well as mounting racks ready to drop magical explosive aerial bombs.

This was the latest upgraded version of the airship developed by Starfire City—the Combat Airship, Model One.

In Harvey’s vision, the unimpeded airships were to be the ultimate trump card in the large-scale wars of this era. Even if they were intercepted by high-rank Priests or Spellcasters with the ability to fly, the machine guns mounted on the gondolas and several sharpshooting snipers could use their weapons to engage and counterattack. After all, Magical Energy Guns had no casting interval… The soldiers also didn’t need to consume vast amounts of mana and divine power to maintain flight like Spellcasters and Priests did.

To have air superiority… was to hold the key to victory.

The ironclad ships at the docks and the Northern Realm army outside the city erupted in thunderous cheers simultaneously. Everyone knew of the airships’ marvels. The capital had no way to stop an attack from the sky; the scales of victory had already tipped completely in their favor.

…

A short while later, the airships leisurely crossed the towering city walls, drifting over the outer city filled with low, dilapidated buildings, and proceeded directly over the Royal Court. However, they did not underestimate their enemy, maintaining a high altitude. The entirety of the vast capital, Goldshine City, was in full view, and the once-prominent Royal Court, built on high ground in the inner city, now looked no bigger than the palm of a hand.

Tommy stood in the gondola of one of the airships. He took out a pair of crystal wind-proof goggles from his coat and fastened them over his eyes. Then, he unslung the long-range sniper rifle from his back and, with a vicious grin, took aim at three figures flying up from the Royal Court below.

They were court Mages of noble birth…

Empowered by his high-rank bloodline ability, “Weakness Insight,” the high-caliber Magical Energy Bullet that shot out instantly pierced a high-rank court Mage’s defensive shield. It tore a fist-sized chunk of flesh from his side. The high-rank Mage didn’t even have time to let out a cry of pain before he plummeted straight from the sky.

Another Spellcaster quickly turned back to attempt a rescue, only to be immediately targeted by the same long-range attack. Fortunately, he seemed to be wearing some kind of powerful defensive artifact. Several layers of crystalline, transparent shields instantly lit up around his body, just barely blocking the attack from the airship.

But the attacker seemed to have no casting interval whatsoever. After the first shot missed, there was a pause of less than a few seconds before another identical attack came. What terrified the court Mage was that, despite the vast distance, both attacks struck the shield in almost the exact same spot, with impeccable precision.

Crack! The armband the Mage wore on his arm shattered in an instant. The breaking of the artifact managed to block the second shot, but the bizarre attack still jolted the court Mage’s mana channels. The flow of mana throughout his body stagnated for a moment, and he nearly plunged toward the ground as well.

The last Spellcaster, who had been spared, quickly grabbed his companion. He looked up in terror at the distant airships overhead, then glanced with a complicated expression at their fellow Mage, who had been smashed into a pulp of flesh and blood on the ground below.

“They have such bizarre and powerful long-range attack methods… We have no need to fight them to the death. Don’t forget, we are Spellcasters, just like them!”

The injured colleague naturally saw the large emblems of the Federation and the Lord of the Northern Realm painted on the airships. He gritted his teeth and nodded. “That’s right. Among Spellcasters, unless it’s a conflict over the path to truth, there’s no need to fight to the death. Besides, I never wanted to die for the damned Church anyway. Let’s go!”

With that said, the two of them flew out of the city in the opposite direction without any hesitation.

Tommy put away his sniper rifle with a grin. He raised a hand to stop one of his sharpshooters from taking a shot at their backs. He scoffed, “They certainly know how to read a situation. They didn’t rashly charge up here to fight us head-on. If it came to close-quarters combat, we wouldn’t have the upper hand.”

This brief exchange, however, made Tommy sigh with emotion… It turned out that not every Spellcaster was as wise and compassionate as his own lord, nor did they possess the grace to treat others as equals or the courage to explore the unknown like Duncan, the Eye of Illusion, and Ms. Astrologer… They were even worse than the Necromancers from the Academy of Sciences, who always wore gloomy faces. When those Necromancers fought alongside common soldiers of mortal birth, they held nothing back, giving their all.

The three airships continued to hover high in the sky for a moment. They were stunned to discover that in the whole of Goldshine City, the only noble Spellcasters who dared to stand up and confront them to defend the royal city were the three from just now—one dead, one injured. They couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief.

Tommy immediately took out a Magic Brain device to report the situation to Harvey. After receiving his reply and instructions, he turned and gestured to the soldier in charge.

The latter nodded in understanding. The airship immediately lowered its altitude. The bombardier skillfully loaded a magical explosive aerial bomb into the bombing bay and then quickly pulled the mechanism.

With a click, a huge aerial bomb detached from the rack on the gondola’s underside and plummeted toward the ground.

The first mission they were to complete on this trip was a crucial part of the “Deterrence Offensive”—

Bombing the Royal Court of Goldshine City!

Chapter 447: Crushing by Public Opinion

Using an Airship to drop magical explosive aerial bombs was a very primitive form of air strike, but it was a significant upgrade from before, when they had the Illusionist Duncan transform into a griffin to drop bombs manually. In a sky domain only accessible to high-rank transcendent beings, this was already considered a groundbreaking superweapon.

Of the three airships, only Tommy’s, the main vessel, was tasked with carrying and dropping the bombs. The other two served mainly as cover and support, guarding against potential attacks from high-level casters.

As the magical explosive aerial bomb plummeted, from the main airship hovering over a hundred meters above the palace, they could clearly see the terrified eyes of the guard soldiers and knights on the palace walls. Many raised their bows and crossbows, firing futilely into the sky, but ordinary weapons had no way of reaching the airship’s altitude.

The aerial bomb precisely struck the round dome of the palace’s grand council hall. With a world-shattering roar, a crimson fireball erupted, rapidly rising into the sky in a thick cloud of smoke and dust. The entire council hall was engulfed in flames. The ornate decorations, meticulously crafted and carved by court artisans, were shattered by the blast’s shockwave. The wave of the explosion swept across the hall’s surroundings, and the scorching flames quickly spread to the palace gardens beside it.

For a moment, the entire palace was filled with thick smoke and spreading fires. Court nobles, guards, and attendants scattered and fled. Many discovered that the high palace walls were containing the blaze, so they crowded together, pushed open the now completely unguarded palace gates, and scrambled to save their own lives.

Next, the airship leisurely floated over to St. Valen’s Cathedral of Splendor…

To their surprise, only a single high-rank Priest flew out to confront them—it was likely that the Church’s forces within St. Valen had deployed their main strength to the Da’ers border to fight the Federation.

This Priest did not seem to be a combat specialist. Before he could ascend even a few dozen meters, he was immediately targeted by several long-range sniper rifles from the airship. Then, under three precise shots, his body exploded into a huge mist of blood, and he plummeted from the sky, crashing straight onto the dome of the cathedral’s main hall.

The cathedral’s gates were also wide open, and large numbers of the faithful and low-rank Priests poured out like startled birds. The airship’s attack on the palace had been witnessed by nearly the entire city; remaining inside the cathedral now would be suicide.

After another thunderous explosion, the Cathedral of Splendor, renowned throughout the central continent, was likewise reduced to a pile of ruins before the terrifying power of magical technology.

…

“The defensive line on the city walls has completely collapsed.” Pierce rode a Magic Motorcycle, quickly arriving at the flagship on the riverbank to report the battle’s progress to Harvey in person.

After standing up, he turned slightly, his gaze complex as he looked at the two plumes of thick smoke rising from the inner city in the distance. He asked doubtfully, “My lord, why did you only allow us to control the southwest sections of the wall and parts of the outer city? Our true enemies—the capital’s nobles, the Church, and the dignitaries of the Royal Court—are all in the inner city, aren’t they?”

Merely dispatching a few airships into the inner city for pinpoint bombing of the palace and the cathedral didn’t seem to be a decisive factor in their complete capture of the city.

Harvey chuckled. “Do you know how many nobles there are in the capital?”

Not even counting the court nobles, who were as numerous as hunting dogs and lack hereditary titles and fiefdoms… just the hereditary nobles with fiefdoms of various sizes around Goldshine City probably numbered in the hundreds. And Goldshine City, as a massive metropolis in St. Valen and even the central part of the south, was home to nearly thirty thousand people.

It was almost catching up to the rapidly expanding and population-booming Starfire City.

“And we have a mere three thousand soldiers. Throwing a force this size into the densely populated capital… we would easily get bogged down in a quagmire from which it would be difficult to escape.”

After all, no matter how one puts it, in the eyes of the local populace of Goldshine City, these people from the Northern Realm were, in effect, ‘invaders.’ Moreover, they had just set off two ‘world-shattering’ firecrackers in the inner city. Anyone would be terrified that such a weapon from the heavens might fall on their own head.

Therefore, from the very beginning, Harvey had a two-pronged approach to conquering the city. Not all three airships were on bombing duty; the two besides the main vessel were also carrying tens of thousands of “propaganda warfare weapons.”

As the shadows of the airships passed over the city, the terrified and despairing citizens were stunned to find countless pieces of paper, like snowflakes, drifting gently down.

As the most prosperous city in the central continent, the capital’s literacy rate was far higher than that of ordinary towns and villages. Many educated small merchants and citizens reached out to catch the white papers falling from the sky. They discovered content written in large, bold font—mass-produced using expensive alchemical printing methods.

[People of Goldshine City, I am Harvey Floyd, the City Lord of Starfire City from the Northern Realm.]

[As the initiator of this war, my goal is very clear—to overthrow the corrupt rule and ignorant beliefs of the Radiant Church in this country, and to clear the slander they have spread about Spellcasters causing a plague and assassinating the Grand Duke.]

[To avoid harming the ordinary citizens of the city, I promise not to send soldiers to fight within the city walls. Instead, I will dispatch my war airships daily to the inner city palace to carry out precise strikes against the target, until the Church and the Royal Court dignitaries announce their surrender to me.]

[After the war ends, I will completely abolish all baseless taxes imposed on the people of the capital. I will completely eliminate the entry tax, head tax, new-man tax, marriage tax… and completely exempt the people from conscripted labor.]

[Until then, I ask the people of the capital to avoid the vicinity of the inner city palace and the Cathedral of Splendor to avoid being caught in the attacks as innocent bystanders.]

What… what did this mean? Many literate citizens were left stunned in place after reading the contents of the paper.

In a public square in the outer city, atop a gallows platform, a man dressed as a local commoner stood, clutching a stack of the papers that had fallen from the sky, shouting himself hoarse as he preached their message.

“Everyone, listen to me! Come and see what this lord from the Northern Realm is saying! He says he won’t send those savage northern soldiers to fight in the city, he’ll only use his terrifying weapons that can fly in the sky to directly attack the palace and the cathedral!”

“He says that after the war is over, he’ll abolish all the extra taxes the nobles imposed, and he won’t conscript people for free labor for the nobles anymore! We won’t have to worry about being drafted to the battlefields on the border!”

“What if these are just lies from those northern barbarians to win people’s hearts?”

“I think we can believe him! After the city gates were breached, those ferocious soldiers in black really only occupied the area near the walls. They didn’t flood into the city to burn, kill, and plunder!”

“That’s right! I snuck close to the walls, and those soldiers just warned me to leave quickly. Good heavens! I really thought they were going to kill me on the spot!”

The crowd below the platform grew larger and larger, buzzing with discussion. Many of them were illiterate, but they could still understand the simple and clear words.

Compared to the dispute between the Spellcasters and the Church, or the fact that His Majesty the Grand Duke had been gravely wounded in an assassination attempt, the promises of an end to arbitrary taxes and forced labor were what truly stirred their hearts.

At the same time, similar public proclamations were taking place in populated areas all over the outer city. Soon, the common people living in the capital’s outer city had all, to some extent, heard the news.

Many couldn’t help but feel a faint sliver of hope in their hearts—perhaps those dignitaries in the palace… should just hurry up and surrender already!

Chapter 448: The Desperate Bait

“My hometown is Perch Town, less than half a day’s journey from the capital. I’m not kidding you!” Benny said, a well-maintained new model Magical Energy Gun slung over his back as he patrolled along the base of the inner city wall with the soldiers of his group.

The Group Leader, who had the typical features of a man from the Northern Realm, turned his head and smiled. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, so you’re a man of the capital, then?”

The men all roared with laughter, good-naturedly teasing Benny, this new recruit on his first expedition with the army.

“What’s so funny? The specialty of Perch Town is perch. You’ve never tasted a stew made with the fattest summer perch and wild hazel mushrooms,” Benny explained with a pout, his expression dead serious.

A few soldiers in the squad were heard swallowing their saliva. “Perch and mushroom stew? That makes me miss the taste of the glacial salmon from back home… A pity you can only get it in the winter.”

The comrade walking behind Benny nudged him in the back. “Benny, do you still have family back home?”

Benny’s expression darkened, and he mumbled softly, “Half the people in Perch Town were infected by the plague, and the other half fled, just like me… My family couldn’t make it on the road. I was the only one who survived to reach the Northern Realm.”

The Group Leader quickly coughed twice to change the subject. “Alright, we’re approaching the outer city’s Residential Area. According to our orders, we can’t patrol any further. Prepare to turn back!”

The men all came to a halt. Just as they were about to turn and depart in formation, a surprised shout suddenly came from a nearby street—

“Good heavens! Is… is that Benny? Benny!”

Benny turned instinctively and saw a group of laborers pushing carts and carrying goods down the street ahead. Among them was a short but stocky young man with strikingly curly, reddish-brown hair.

“Dave? Heavens! It’s Dave! I thought you died on the road while we were fleeing!”

Though he was shouting in joyous surprise, his body seemed to move with muscle memory, standing firm without taking a step. His fingers even tightened on the strap of his gun, as if he could unling it and fire in the next second.

“This is Dave, a friend I grew up with in Perch Town,” Benny briefly explained to his comrades and the Group Leader.

The Group Leader grunted in acknowledgment. “I’ll give you five minutes to catch up. Don’t cross the street, and don’t let your guard down!”

The two childhood friends stood across the street from each other, quickly and excitedly sharing their experiences and recent circumstances.

Afterward, Benny and Dave bid each other a reluctant farewell, promising to meet here again the next time it was his turn to patrol.

Dave and the others knew these soldiers from the Northern Realm had promised not to enter the city. Watching their departing figures in formation, he boasted to the people around him, “See? These soldiers from the Northern Realm aren’t barbarians. My friend Benny is one of them, and he’s a local from Perch Town!”

A leather worker’s apprentice in the same group whispered with envy, “Look at their clothes. They don’t have shiny armor like knights, but their uniforms are made of fine cotton. And those boots… tsk, tsk, tsk, those are deerskin boots! Only Noble lords can afford to wear those!”

These soldiers from the Northern Realm seemed to be treated even better than the guards in His Majesty the Grand Duke’s Royal Court…

…

On the second day of the Northern Army’s occupation of the city walls, an Airship once again flew over the Royal Palace. This time, it dropped two magical explosive aerial bombs, instantly leveling a section of the palace wall and the main gate.

“Your Excellency, Prime Minister, the Northerners have occupied the southwest gates of the outer city. We still have a chance to escape from the northeast,” the Minister of State urged anxiously. “If we don’t leave now, it’ll be too late once they’ve completely sealed all four gates!”

Chief Knight Dickinson, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, glared at the Minister of State and the Prime Minister and snorted coldly. “His Majesty is grievously wounded and unconscious. The Archbishop was caught in the bombing right after returning to the Church of Glory and still hasn’t been found… and you want to abandon the capital and flee without a fight?”

The white-haired Prime Minister pursed his lips. “Flee without a fight? Why don’t you tell me how we’re supposed to fight an enemy like this? Haven’t you seen enough of their terrifying methods on the city walls?”

“Even if we leave, we must send His Majesty away first!” the Chief Knight said through gritted teeth. “We’ll send His Majesty to the border. He’ll be temporarily safe at the encampments of the Church’s Judgment Army and the noble coalition army. We’ll stay behind to cover his tracks and delay any pursuers, and wait for the reinforcements the Church promised before we counter-attack!”

The Minister of State’s voice trembled. “How can we send His Majesty away? If a Priest from the Church doesn’t use divine healing spells to sustain his life every seven days, all we’ll be sending to the border is a corpse!”

But now, even the Archbishop was missing in the bombing of the church. Where could they possibly find a surviving head priest?

And those enemies from the North seemed to have no fear of reinforcements from the Holy City. They simply surrounded the capital, controlled the outer city, and sent that terrifying flying vehicle to the Royal Court every day to drop devastatingly powerful weapons before leisurely returning.

And then there were those pieces of paper constantly scattered from the sky over the city—the war wasn’t even over, and they were already winning people’s hearts, trying to win over the stupid, lowly common folk in advance!

Two more violent explosions erupted in the distance. The nobles and officials were currently taking shelter in a wealthy merchant’s mansion not far from the Royal Palace, so it was unlikely to be a target for the airship’s bombing.

“After the Royal Palace and the church… what are they planning to bomb today?” The explosion seemed to come from the east. The window frames of the building rattled violently, indicating it wasn’t far away.

A guard walked in, trembling, to report. “My lords, what was destroyed was… the barracks of the Capital’s Knightly Order.”

The entire Capital’s Knightly Order had already been dispatched to the border battlefield. The enemy’s actions were nothing more than a show of force and a threat, yet they could only watch helplessly, not daring to entertain a single thought of resistance.

The enemy had struck far too quickly. No one had expected them to suddenly be at the gates—the country had just finished the spring planting, a critical period for crop growth, and there weren’t many militia left to conscript near the capital…

After the city gates fell, the capital’s last remaining defensive force—the three thousand or so soldiers of the Capital Guard—scattered like birds and beasts in an instant, throwing open the two northeast gates and fleeing for their lives. Now, the capital was left with fewer than two hundred Royal Court knights and noble guards and squires, who were still competently guarding the Grand Duke of St. Valen under the Chief Knight’s command, having moved him to the merchant’s mansion for safety.

Dickinson knew very well that the Prime Minister and the Minister of State… would probably not be here after tonight. They too would abandon the seriously injured Grand Duke and secretly flee the capital.

He turned and walked out of the room, beckoning a trusted knight over and giving him a quiet order. “Move His Majesty from the second-floor bedroom to the cellar. The entrance must be guarded at all times…”

Another seven days… The Chief Knight knew perfectly well that if the Church’s reinforcements from the Holy City didn’t arrive in seven days… for the sake of His Majesty’s life, he would have no choice but to surrender to the enemy in humiliation, in exchange for a Spellcaster to save the Grand Duke.

This was a senseless war from the start. The Northern Lord’s true goal was merely to use the Grand Duke and the capital as bait, luring out and ambushing the Church’s distant reinforcements by besieging a key location.

Chapter 449: Besieging a Point to Strike at the Reinforcements

Harvey’s strategy of surrounding but not attacking Goldshine City—only holding the southwestern gates near the Ralph River and controlling the outer city’s commoner districts, which made up two-thirds of the capital’s area—was indeed aimed at besieging a point to strike at the reinforcements.

After nearly a week of military blockade and continuous bombardment, most of the important buildings in the inner city, including the Royal Palace, had been devastatingly damaged—the Royal Palace, the cathedral, the knightly order’s barracks, the Prime Minister’s residence… When the bombardment began to fall on the heads of the capital’s powerful nobles, they could no longer sit still.

“It has come to this. The Church’s reinforcements are late, and the feudal lords of the border counties refuse to send troops to rescue the capital…” The portly Earl paced back and forth by the Grand Duke’s sickbed, his voice heavy. “If we continue to refuse to surrender, sooner or later they will bomb this prosperous city into a pile of rubble, bit by bit!”

It was rumored that the Prime Minister and the Minister of State had already secretly left the city last night, likely fleeing to the neighboring Barkley Duchy for refuge. When the country was expelling and arresting spellcasters, those two had been the first to publicly support the Church. They feared retribution far more than the other nobles, who were accustomed to being fence-sitters.

Chief Knight Dickinson’s lips were pressed into a thin line. He stood silently in the cramped, dark basement, one hand hovering over the hilt of the sword at his waist. The conditions here were poor… but at least it was safe, less likely to be hit by aerial bombardment.

For the past few days, he had not strayed an inch from His Majesty’s side, precisely to guard against these restless nobles in the capital. He feared they would attempt to forcibly abduct the unconscious Grand Duke and present him as a captive to that Northern Lord. These flip-floppers, who always followed their own interests, would feel not an ounce of shame for selling out their master for personal gain.

Even if they were to surrender, he would not allow His Majesty to become a bargaining chip for their merit.

The Earl tried to persuade him patiently for a little longer, then spoke to the unyielding Chief Knight with a hint of impatience, “His Majesty is grievously injured and unconscious, unable to manage affairs. He has no queen and has not appointed a successor… Among the dignitaries and ministers still in the capital, only I, the Earl of the temporary residence, hold the highest rank. As His Majesty’s Chief Knight, you should follow my instructions!”

He paused, then whispered to Dickinson, “Other nobles might be thinking of currying favor with that Northern Lord, but not me… Dickinson, don’t forget… I am also His Majesty’s own uncle. Back when he stubbornly insisted on siding completely with the Church, I was the only one in the Grand Council Hall who stood up to oppose him.”

The Chief Knight opened his mouth but could not find the words… Indeed, letting the Earl of the temporary residence, whose family had produced several spellcasters, plead for surrender on His Majesty’s behalf might be the only way to appeal for the enemy’s generous aid.

The stiff fingers gripping his sword hilt relaxed slightly. Just as he was about to consent, the basement door was suddenly thrown open from the outside—

“Your Lordship, Sir Dickinson, the Holy See’s reinforcements have arrived!”

“What? Reinforcements from the Holy City? How many troops?”

“Is it the Army of Judgment legion from Goris? Where are they now?” the Earl and Dickinson asked in unison, their voices urgent.

The attendant who brought the message caught his breath and said in a low, serious voice, “It’s the Spear of Radiance Judgment Legion from Isengard! They suddenly appeared directly behind the enemy to the southwest, flying the clear banners of Isengard and the Holy See… They couldn’t be more conspicuous.”

The attendant paused, then continued, “By my estimate, there are nearly three thousand troops, all fully armored Inquisitorial Knights. There are no Priests or squires with them… They must have arrived via a forced cavalry march.”

It seemed the Church still placed some importance on St. Valen, this major hub for spreading the faith.

“What about the northern enemy? How did they react?” the Earl pressed, his eyes wide.

The attendant shook his head, a look of bewilderment on his face. “They’ve actually abandoned the city walls they’d captured and have taken the initiative to form up in the open field outside the city. It seems they intend to face the Army of Judgment head-on.”

Have the northerners gone mad? Or has that Mage Lord’s mind been corrupted by mana?

A group of mortal soldiers, without even proper armor, facing off against Inquisitorial Knights with bloodline talents on an open plain?

Even if their ironclad ships possessed those terrifying magical weapons and they had flying machines that could bomb the ground from the sky, those would be of little use against swift, agile cavalry. Once the knights broke into the infantry formation, it would be a one-sided slaughter.

If the Church could achieve a decisive victory, it could not only drive the Northern Lord away from the capital but might also severely weaken his forces. After all, more than ten ironclad warships and over three thousand elite soldiers… The enemy had likely staked everything he had.

He turned to the Earl with a complex expression and said slowly, “It seems we’ll have to wait until this great battle is over before making our final decision…”

For a rare change, Harvey, led by Pierce, was personally inspecting the battlefield with a group of Northern Army officers.

Long before they had even entered the capital, they had dug a large number of trenches and bunkers in the open ground outside the city. The crisscrossing network of trenches now covered almost the entire area outside the walls.

The trenches were primarily to provide cover from potential spellcasters among the enemy and from the javelin attacks of the Inquisitorial Knights with bloodline talents. According to combat readiness requirements, the trench lines were divided into several layers, each fifty meters apart. Vertical communication trenches connected the horizontal ones, allowing soldiers to move freely, providing perfect cover whether they were retreating or advancing.

The ground above was fortified with spiked wooden stakes and strewn with a large number of caltrops. This was a suggestion from the young new staff officers in the staff department. Many of them came from hereditary noble and knightly families whose grandfathers had won their titles and fortunes on horseback. When it came to dealing with their own kind, their expertise was passed down through their families, and they had ample experience.

Although the Church’s Inquisitorial Knights were transcendent beings who had awakened their bloodline talents, the warhorses they rode were still ordinary. If they crashed into the anti-cavalry barricades or stepped into a pitfall, their riders would be thrown off just the same.

To prevent the enemy from scattering and using fast-assault tactics to break through at various points, half-buried pillboxes were set up at intervals along the entire horizontal trench line. These were equipped with the most powerful Magical Energy Machine Guns, which, in coordination with the regular soldiers in the trenches, would form a crossfire network combining different speeds and ranges.

Behind the three lines of trenches was the artillery position. Twenty Magical-Powered Cannons were lined up, coordinating with the ship-mounted magical energy cannons anchored on the river half a kilometer to the flank of the battlefield. Their role was to handle long-range area-of-effect strikes.

The only ones left on the city walls were the Northern Army’s sniper squads, led by City Lord Harvey’s number one sharpshooter, Tommy. They were tasked with precisely eliminating and suppressing the high-rank Inquisitorial Knights whose transcendent abilities were too formidable, preventing them from charging into the formations and causing casualties to soldiers or officers in a suicidal attack.

After all, many junior staff officers and Political Instructors would also be on the front lines. The loss of even one of these highly educated military personnel would be a heartbreaking blow to the Military Command and the General Staff.

Chapter 450: Spear of Radiance

The City Lord’s personal inspection of the battlefield to supervise the battle naturally thrilled the rank-and-file soldiers and junior officers. They each held fast to their designated combat zones, only turning to salute when Harvey passed, puffing out their chests with all their might.

“You believe this is also… a live-fire exercise?” Pierce, who had been holding it in the whole way, finally couldn’t resist asking.

Harvey smiled and retorted, “Don’t you think so? Logically speaking, our army has rarely faced these extraordinary knights with awakened bloodline talents head-on, let alone in a confrontation of this scale.”

After mastering magical weapons that were far ahead of their time, Harvey had clearly noticed the faint stirrings of arrogance within his army. Swift victories, invincibility, and overwhelming power seemed to have become the exclusive trademarks of the Northern Army. It was no wonder their noses were in the air.

When necessary, they needed to be pitted against a tough opponent. That way, when they faced the invading non-human races from the north in the future, they wouldn’t make an irreversible mistake due to overconfidence and rash advances.

“Compared to defensive battles on the city walls, our army is more proficient in… and should be more proficient in, positional warfare!”

Miro Mendes, Legion Commander of the Spear of Radiance, rode to the edge of his encampment with a grim face, gazing at the enemy’s positions arranged outside the city.

“Lord Mendes, the enemy has indeed sent their flying machines toward us,” a personal guard reported, riding closer. “However, after discovering we had deployed the alchemical anti-magic crossbows, they promptly turned back and left.”

Mendes sneered and said slowly, “That Mage Lord must have Alchemists serving him. They know full well that the anti-magic crossbows can also strike targets hundreds of meters away; even enemies in the sky are not immune.”

In the past, they had a distinguished record of using anti-magic crossbows to kill high-level Mages using flight spells.

If the situation weren’t so urgent that they needed to provide rapid support, the Spear of Radiance could even suppress those flying artifacts and allow their high-level Priests to seize air superiority, had they brought a sufficient number of battle priests.

His accompanying deputy whispered, “Our encampment is separated from the riverbank by a dense upland forest. Their long-range magical weapons can’t reach us… But strangely, they’ve actively abandoned the tall city walls they already occupied to form a defensive line outside the city… They don’t even have knights. How do they plan to face us head-on?”

“The Gun of Annihilation…” Mendes grunted, gesturing for an attendant to bring forward a strange metal tube. It was silver all over, but unexpectedly broken in two. He weighed it in his hand and said, “This new magical weapon, which the Lord of the Northern Realm provided to the Federation in collaboration with the Alchemical Exploration Society, allowed Blackstone City’s Mage Corps to be unstoppable against the Demon soldiers.”

As the originators of the weapon’s research and development, these heretics from the Northern Realm naturally possessed magical weapons of the same power.

The Legion Commander pointed to the shields carried on the backs of every knight in the Army of Judgment. “We made effective preparations for this long ago. Each of these protective shields, forged in Isengard, has been mixed with the powder of Radiant Stone, which can effectively defend against the attacks of the Gun of Annihilation!”

“Radiant Stone powder? The same Radiant Stone that can be used to create anti-magic divine weapons to counter Spellcasters?”

Mendes nodded. “Correct. The Holy City’s Mechanism Privy Council has essentially unraveled the secrets of the Gun of Annihilation. Although we still can’t replicate the most crucial component—the magic quarrel—we at least know how to defend against it.”

Radiant Stone was only produced in the Holy City of Goris and the nearby Isengard Mining Area, and its output was not particularly high. Therefore, each protective shield was only the size of a breastplate, but it was enough to protect the most vital areas of the Army of Judgment’s knights—the head and chest. Even if other body parts were injured, their combat capabilities would hardly be affected under the enhancement of their bloodline power.

With the enemy’s greatest military asset neutralized, once the knight orders of the Army of Judgment began their charge, the enemy’s defeat was already a foregone conclusion.

Mendes gazed at the enemy positions outside the distant city gates, laughing inwardly: if these heretics weren’t so arrogant and had launched a surprise attack when the Spear of Radiance had just arrived outside Goldshine City, exhausted from a forced march; if they had used their long-range magical weapons and flying machines to attack with all their might, perhaps they would have stood a sliver of a chance.

But they just had to abandon their defensive walls and march out of the city to form up, attempting to confront the Army of Judgment head-on.

What a bunch of fools who didn’t know their place.

After hearing the intelligence provided by the soldiers on the Airship, Pierce frowned in confusion. “Shields? They’re planning to use those things to resist our Magical Energy Guns and cannons?”

Harvey interjected, “How big are the shields? A knight in full plate armor is already at the limit of what a warhorse can carry. If they also have to carry a huge shield, they’d be unable to move an inch unless they ride demonic beasts into battle like the Demon soldiers.”

Tommy was also puzzled but answered honestly, “It’s a small hand shield, about the size of a washbasin, barely big enough to cover the head and face… To be honest, I think they’ve got water on the brain.”

“Are you certain there are no battle priests or healing priests among the Army of Judgment?”

“I’m almost certain. Priests can’t wear such heavy armor. Like Spellcasters, they’re as skinny as bamboo poles; a strong wind could blow them over…” As soon as the words left his mouth, Tommy realized his gaffe. He hurriedly bowed to the City Lord to apologize under Commander Pierce’s glare.

Harvey waved his hand, not bothering with him. “They’re probably protective spellshields created by the Church. They’ve either been enchanted with some defensive divine arts or mixed with some magical minerals to make the shields sturdier. In any case, it’s a futile effort.”

The penetrating power of a Magical Energy Gun’s bullet was not something that a mere defensive divine art or enchanted metal could withstand—unless every single one of these thousands of Inquisitorial Knights received the same high-level treatment as Duke Ralph himself, with a Cardinal of the Church personally crafting a defensive divine talisman for him.

“Even if the bullets can’t punch through, the shield can only protect the head and face at most. Once the bullet rain from the Magical Energy Machine Guns covers them like a downpour… hehe, the best a knight of the Army of Judgment can hope for is to be left with a relatively intact head.”

What they truly needed to worry about now was that the enemy’s force of over three thousand elite extraordinary knights might not employ conventional massed cavalry charge tactics. Instead, they might use skirmisher-style dispersed and flexible assault tactics. If so, their greatest asset, the artillery, would lose its chance to shine, and the machine gun bunkers were not without their dead zones. A charge that disregarded casualties could allow the enemy to completely bypass these heavy firepower points.

At that point, the soldiers would have to hold their positions under immense pressure as the extraordinary knights charged and weaved through their lines.

This was also the “mandatory test question” Harvey had set for his officers and soldiers—a trial they had to face and endure.

Chapter 451: The Gunnery Matrix

At dawn on the second day, the Northern Army’s airships rose slowly into the sky as usual, greeting the morning sun. But today, they had not received orders to bombard the capital.

City Lord Harvey had given them a different directive: to monitor the movements of the Church’s Judgment Army from a distance.

Tommy squinted. He didn’t even need to raise his spyglass to see the enemy encampment a few kilometers away. The heavily armored knights of the Army of Judgment had just finished assembling. Now, arranged in a cavalry square, they were prostrating themselves toward the sun, seemingly performing some kind of predetermined prayer ritual.

“Seeing those stupid holy rollers, I wish I could man a Magical Energy Naval Cannon myself and give them a couple of shots! Blast them to smithereens!” the Deputy, who was also on lookout duty, cursed through gritted teeth.

Tommy laughed heartily. “You, man the cannon? You’d probably hit our own lines. The boys in the Artillery Battalion might not be as good with rifles as we are, but they’re shockingly accurate with those cannons.”

After all, every single magical energy shell is incredibly expensive; they can’t afford to miss.

Artillerymen, just like infantry, require extensive live-fire training, nurtured by a constant supply of ammunition. But compared to the cheap and mass-produced Magical Energy Bullets, the cost of manufacturing shells is far higher. One could say that since its formation, the Artillery Battalion has been burning through gold, silver, and priceless strategic materials like water every single day, making it the most expensive combat unit in the entire army.

“Chief, the City Lord and the Commander were right. To defend against our artillery, they’ve abandoned the dense cavalry square and switched to a Long Snake Formation…” The Deputy snorted. “A textbook formation to line up and shoot down.”

Tommy shot him an irritated glare and scolded, “What do you know? This is just the initial formation. Once their horses have built up speed, they’ll probably change formation immediately, using a Flying Goose or Spearhead Formation to charge straight into our position…”

Wait! What are they doing?

Halfway through his sentence, Tommy’s eyes widened. “What the hell are they feeding those horses?”

The Deputy’s awakened bloodline talent was “Eagle Eye.” Although not as effective in combat as Tommy’s “Weakness Insight,” his range of vision was far superior to his commander’s. “Some big, bright red pills… Look at the horses! They just ate them, and their eyes are already turning blood-red. They look much more frenzied!”

Without a moment’s delay, Tommy relayed the observed intelligence to the command center on the ground.

“I’ve heard Spellcasters from the Federation mention this before. It’s a kind of Warhorse Frenzy Potion specially developed by the Church,” Harvey said slowly. “It prematurely exhausts a horse’s potential, allowing them to unleash speed and carrying capacity far beyond their normal limits during battle. Furthermore, they become completely immune to fear and shock.”

Pierce nodded, a hint of regret in his voice. “It seems our tactic of using the roar of cannon fire to spook their horses won’t be effective.”

Their current charge formation was clearly intended to evade the artillery’s area-of-effect attacks. They planned to use a dispersed charge, with each group breaking through on its own, like several sharp, swift daggers stabbing into the Northern Army’s lines.

Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!

Just then, three horn blasts echoed from the distant enemy lines, ringing through the sky.

At almost the same moment, a rousing horn call sounded from the Northern Army’s position—the signal that the enemy was about to attack.

“Go,” Harvey said with a wave of his hand, calmly manipulating his soul puppet to sit in the watchtower on the city wall.

Pierce bowed slightly, struck his fist to his chest in a salute, then turned and hurried away.

…

The rising sun climbed into the morning sky. Thousands of knights in shining armor, arranged in a long formation, slowly came into the view of the Northern Army soldiers.

The battlefield was a narrow stretch of land just outside the capital’s gates. To the left was a low-lying thicket of shrubs, unsuitable for a cavalry charge or an infantry advance. To the right was the wide and rushing Ralph River.

From the moment the enemy formed up and entered this area, they were already within range of the Magical Energy Naval Cannons.

Command of the battle had been handed over to Pierce, and Harvey knew he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to strike first.

Sure enough, just half a minute later, a deep roar erupted from the ironclad ships moored in a line along the riverbank. It sounded like a sudden clap of distant thunder. Even the soldiers in the trenches outside the city could faintly see several blurry streaks of light flying in from the right, landing right where the enemy had just set foot.

The battle had begun without warning!

The soldiers in the trenches couldn’t see the shells’ impact points or the damage they caused, but the airships hovering in the sky had a crystal-clear view. Huge clouds of dirt and dust erupted violently in the area where the enemy had formed up. The column of knights, which had been slowly advancing in preparation for a charge, was immediately thrown into chaos. Many knights were hit by the shockwaves and flying dirt and debris from the explosions, either falling from their horses on the spot or breaking from the formation.

But it was obvious that aside from a few unlucky souls who happened to be near the impact points and were blown to pieces, the initial artillery barrage had failed to inflict widespread casualties.

The Army of Judgment’s loose Long Snake Formation had worked!

Then, they began to accelerate. The frenzied warhorses beneath them seemed completely unfazed by the booming cannons, snorting hot breaths from their nostrils as they went into a full sprint in a matter of seconds.

By the time the soldiers in the trenches could clearly see the enemy, the knights had already endured at least three volleys from the naval cannons. But then, a new barrage of cannon fire erupted from behind their own lines—the Magical-Powered Cannons, with a shorter range but a faster rate of fire than the naval cannons, had begun to unleash their power.

Compared to the ultra-long-range naval cannons, the roar of the Magical-Powered Cannons was continuous, almost without pause. The bursting shells they fired immediately demonstrated their lethality. Upon impact and detonation, enemies within a radius of dozens of meters were shredded into a bloody pulp by the shrapnel, with neither man nor horse spared.

Quickly, the enemy’s Long Snake Formation transformed again, becoming even more dispersed. The thousands of heavy knights broke into small charging groups of three to five, beginning to weave and crisscross flexibly down the path of their charge to evade the intense artillery fire.

Soon, the fastest cavalry squads closed to within three hundred meters of the Northern Army’s first line of defense. The dense wooden spikes and Caltrops seemed to pose no obstacle to them. With bloodshot eyes and bulging, engorged muscles, the warhorses, skillfully controlled by the knights of the Army of Judgment, leaped over one cheval de frise after another as if they were as light as swallows, moving as if on flat ground.

The distance between the two armies was closing rapidly…

At that moment, the Magical Energy Machine Guns in the bunkers roared to life.

In an instant, the soldiers in the trenches saw bursts of bloody mist erupt from the enemy riders and their mounts in the distance. The dust kicked up from the ground was even more turbulent than that from the cannon fire. Bullets swept across the field like a torrential downpour. Any who were unfortunate enough to be caught in this curtain of fire for even half a second were torn to shreds, limbs and flesh flying everywhere.

Many of the Judgment Army knights at the forefront raised their arms, using small, divine art-enchanted shields to protect their vital areas. But their warhorses, already riddled with holes, collapsed to the ground with terrible whinnies, throwing their riders off. A knight would roll, get back to his feet, and before he could even raise his shield again, his arm would be instantly snapped by a bullet from an unknown direction.

The mere three-hundred-meter distance before the Northern Army’s first line of defense had, in an instant, become an impassable chasm for the knights of the Army of Judgment—a road to Hell, paved with blood and death.

Chapter 452: The Bloody Stage

“These sons of bitches from the Machine Gun Squad!” Dav cursed, gripping his Magical Energy Gun. “At this rate, what the hell is our infantry battalion supposed to shoot? These holy roller knights can’t even get close to the first front line…”

Battalion Commander Vaughn, who was originally in charge of the second front line, had now crossed the connecting trench to Dav’s command bunker, joining Wayne, the commander of the even more idle third front line.

They were well aware of the Commander’s defensive fire plan: first, fire the naval cannons as an opening shot to deter the enemy at one thousand five hundred meters. Once the enemy truly charged, use the magical-powered cannons with bursting shells for the first round of area-of-effect damage and to disrupt their charge formation. When the enemy approached within three hundred meters of the first front line, the anti-cavalry barricades and caltrops would disrupt their advance, and the Machine Gun Squad would use their dense firepower to sweep the battlefield…

As for the regular infantry in the trenches… their orders were not to open fire until the enemy was within one hundred and fifty meters.

“It’s over! It’s over!” Dav paced anxiously. “The infantry is useless. My kill count for today… don’t tell me it’s going to be zero? What a disgrace! An absolute disgrace!”

Vaughn shook his head helplessly and was about to offer some words of comfort when he suddenly heard a soldier outside the bunker cry out in alarm.

“Commander! Look at those knights!”

Through the bunker’s observation slit, the three men saw that among the knight squads charging in small groups, many flag-bearers had suddenly appeared. A banner emblazoned with the Radiant Church’s emblem, unfurled in the wind, was emitting ripple after ripple of a golden aura that expanded outwards. The surrounding knights immediately spurred their warhorses towards it, gathering tightly within the cover of the banner’s golden light.

The Machine Gun Squad seemed to have immediately noticed the change in the enemy formation. They turned their muzzles towards the regrouped enemy, and a rain of bullets instantly covered the target—a ballistic effect unique to directional machine-gun fire. But unexpectedly, it didn’t produce the anticipated bloody results. The bullets rained down on the outer edge of the golden aura, kicking up flecks of golden light, but they didn’t hit the knights sheltering within the circle of light at all.

What kind of divine art was this? It could actually withstand the sweep of a Magical Energy Machine Gun!

A chill ran down Vaughn’s spine. The Commander’s calm voice immediately came through the alchemical communicator in the command bunker, “That’s the Church’s Judgment Army’s Art of Divine Blessing! You can only break their protection by hitting the flag-bearer surrounded in the center!”

At almost the same moment, a flag-bearer at the very front, surrounded by a dozen or so knights, was suddenly struck in the chest as if by an invisible hammer. His breastplate shattered, and gore exploded outwards. The flagpole he gripped tightly in his hand also snapped with a crack.

It was the work of the sharpshooters on the city wall, wielding their long-range sniper rifles!

Even Vaughn and the others, who were Bloodline Warriors themselves, could faintly perceive the mana fluctuation from the detonation of the large-caliber magical energy bullet upon impact.

So, taking out their flag-bearers one by one really could destroy their Divine Blessing protective formation!

This was something the Machine Gun Squad, with their inefficient spray-and-pray tactics, couldn’t accomplish. Of course, when facing a tide of swarming enemies, they were indeed effective at halting an assault. But against these transcendent beings, it fell to the infantry’s precision marksmen to make a difference.

Dav had already scrambled out of the bunker and was lying prone in the trench, directing his soldiers to aim and fire at the flag-bearers.

But the brief, less-than-thirty-second lull in the Machine Gun Squad’s fire allowed these fearless Church knights to finally break through the bullet-swept zone where the Grim Reaper swung his scythe, bringing them within one hundred meters of the first front line.

The sound of repeating magical energy rifles firing immediately erupted. After a flag-bearer was shot and fell from his horse, the other knights around him, despite losing the protection of the divine art, continued to charge. Even after being hit by several bullets in the chest, they would be carried forward five or six meters by their warhorses’ momentum, and with their dying breath, they would draw their longswords and hurl them.

“Look out!” someone screamed a warning.

A soldier, who had leaned half his body out of the trench and adopted a crouching fire position to ensure accuracy, was instantly pierced through the heart by a flying longsword. The terrifying force sent him flying back more than a meter, pinning him directly to the trench’s earthen wall.

Dav was startled. He had just turned his head when he saw, several dozen meters away, a knight from the Army of Judgment who had been unhorsed and even had his left leg broken. The knight was struggling to his feet on the dust-choked ground, raising a refined steel short spear towards him.

Swoosh—

The short spear flew from his hand, so fast its trajectory was almost invisible.

Dav instinctively drew the alchemical longblade at his waist and swung it horizontally in front of him… With a sharp clang of metal on metal, his powerful strike actually cleaved the spear in two. But the spearhead still grazed his side, tearing open a horrifying wound so deep his ribs were visible.

Dav fell backward onto the trench wall. Suddenly, a pair of hands reached out from behind him and yanked him back into cover.

“Dammit! Dammit!” he cursed through gritted teeth. He looked back and saw that the person who had just saved him was none other than the political instructor recently assigned to his battalion—a young noble from the Grizzly Bear Territory who hadn’t even fully grown his whiskers, a kid named Ivan.

“Battalion commander! Are you alright?” It was Ivan’s first time seeing blood, and on such a massive battlefield. While he hadn’t wet his pants, his legs were shaking and his teeth were chattering. Still, he held his ground in the first defensive line, refusing to retreat out of fear. He moved constantly through the trench, loudly encouraging the soldiers to fight back and reminding them to watch the enemy’s movements.

“Medic! Where’s the medic!” the young political instructor screamed at the top of his lungs. But when he turned his head, he saw the battalion commander, who had just been lying on the ground bleeding profusely, suddenly sit up straight, take out a roll of bandages, and start wrapping the wound himself.

“What’s all the shouting! Making a fuss over nothing.” Dav pulled a blood-soaked wad of gauze from the massive wound in his side. The gruesome gash was already squirming and healing at a rapid pace. “Yell a couple more times and the damn wound will have already closed up!”

As he spoke, he suddenly glared and snapped, “Why are you carrying a rifle? Who issued you a rifle? Are they trying to get you killed?”

These noble disciples and local youths, who had received higher education at the Starfire City public academy, were reserve staff officer talent for the future General Staff Headquarters. They were trained according to the standards of non-combat officers. Typically, they were only issued a revolver for self-defense in emergencies and were strongly advised against participating in combat themselves.

But Ivan, holding the rifle, shook his head. “No, this is the weapon of a fallen soldier. A Political Instructor may be a non-combat role, but in times of need, we must shoulder the duty of fighting alongside our soldiers!”

With that, he turned without a backward glance and walked toward the frontline trench, once again getting down beside a soldier who was firing from a prone position.

…

“Their charging formation… has collapsed.” Harvey stood on the capital’s wall, gazing down at the brutal scene on the battlefield below. A pang of regret suddenly struck him—it would be wonderful if such fearless knights could be used against the non-human enemies of the north in the future.

Then he shook his head lightly, dismissing the ridiculous thought. These supporters of the Church deserved their fate. If he were the one who had been defeated, he would likely face an even more brutal massacre and purge.

In any case, someone had to pay the price for this deliberately instigated conflict. War was indeed cruel… but this was a struggle for power as much as it was a clash of beliefs and stances. One side had to pay the price in blood.

Of course, today’s unprecedented battle between infantry and cavalry was also a bloody spectacle of a crushing slaughter, meticulously staged by Harvey for the capital’s nobles and commoners. He believed that after today… everyone in the capital would understand—

Resisting the Northern Realm would only lead to their own destruction; only complete submission offered a chance of survival.

Chapter 453: The New Recruit’s Transformation

As a member of the second line, Benny’s battalion received the arduous task of urgently reinforcing the first line shortly after the battle began.

The reason, however, wasn’t due to heavy casualties on the front line from an unfavorable battle, nor was it because the elite battalion holding the front couldn’t withstand the enemy’s charge… Rather, the Commander had suddenly decided to accelerate the annihilation of the Army of Judgment knights, whose defeat was already a foregone conclusion.

After rushing to the first line through a hail of bullets, Benny and the others finally came face to face with the bloody horror of the battlefield. Although the Northern Army had the upper hand, the enemy’s fearless counterattacks were simply too much for these new recruits to handle.

“Aaargh! Granger’s hit! Get him out of here! Where are the medics?”

“Greyhound? Greyhound! Good heavens! He’s bleeding so much! But… I can’t tell where he’s wounded!”

“Damn it, what is the Machine Gun Squad doing? Why haven’t they turned their guns to suppress them!”

“Aim for their warhorses! Attention! Fire at will!”

Benny quickly took aim at an enemy who had been shot and fallen from his horse. Squinting, he emptied his magazine into the man’s chest just as he was trying to get up. Then, he expertly tucked the rifle stock under his arm, pulled a pre-loaded magazine from his waist, and reloaded.

In that brief interval of just a few seconds, he stole a glance at the new recruit lying beside him. According to the army’s tradition of veterans looking after new recruits, he was responsible for this guy today. The goal was simple… just don’t let him get himself killed by doing something stupid out of nervousness.

The recruit’s state was clearly identical to his own first battle in Fengyuan City. The signs of extreme tension were all there: jaw clenched, finger practically welded to the trigger, still pulling it uselessly a few times after his twenty-round magazine was empty before belatedly realizing he needed to reload.

As for accuracy and inflicting casualties… Benny had no hopes for the new recruit.

“Here! Stick this in your mouth while you reload.” Benny quickly tossed a foil-wrapped piece of candy into the new recruit’s hands. It was a unique military remedy his Group Leader, Newman, had taught him, one that many veterans swore by… Sucking on the honey-caramel cubes issued by logistics to quickly replenish energy after forced marches could effectively alleviate the “rookie symptoms” of dizziness and numb limbs that came with seeing bloodshed on the battlefield for the first time.

The new recruit had just instinctively done as he was told when an officer shouted the command for volley fire. This was to cover the gap in suppressive fire left by the machine gun squads as they reloaded. Every soldier in the front-line trench raised their rifle and fired directly ahead. The bodies of the foremost enemies erupted in sprays of blood, and they collapsed to the ground, riddled with holes.

But those behind them kept coming, seemingly using their comrades in front as human shields. Even when hit in the arms or legs, they charged toward the trench without slowing down.

A knight who had charged to within five paces of the trench had his legs shredded, but his shield protected his vitals, allowing him to keep crawling forward after he fell. A sniper on the city wall seemed to lock onto this dauntless warrior, and a single bullet shattered the shield covering his chest. In his dying moments, the knight flung a piece of the broken shield… and a Northern Army soldier closest to him was unlucky enough to have his throat slit.

Watching the blood spurt from his comrade’s neck, Benny’s heart sank.

The poor guy probably wouldn’t last until the medics could get him back to the rear for treatment…

“Fall back! Second-line battalion, fall back and regroup! Have the third-line soldiers move up to replace them!”

“Artillery crews and machine gun squads, prepare to lay down suppressive fire!”

Benny immediately raised his rifle and emptied the rest of his magazine. Then he pulled the new recruit back into the trench, and they hunched over and retreated toward the second line. Returning with them were many wounded soldiers who could no longer fight.

The reinforcement battle had lasted no more than a quarter of an hour, and Benny had kept a clear count of his own kills: six. Half of them were from finishing off wounded enemies. For those who had been shot down but were not yet dead, whether wailing, groaning, or writhing on the ground, he could now calmly stare into the deep terror in their eyes and send them on their way with an unhesitating final shot.

“Mercy to the enemy is cruelty to yourself!” The Group Leader wasn’t highly educated, but he could recite the slogans from the recruit’s handbook fluently. As a result, Benny remembered it well, and it had become his own catchphrase when mentoring new recruits.

He patted the pale, sweat-drenched new recruit beside him. “I wasn’t much better than you my first time on the battlefield… But congratulations. After today, you’ve officially become a qualified soldier of the Northern Army.”

…

The great battle between infantry and cavalry that had erupted outside the capital was over in less than three hours…

Many nobles who had sent trusted aides out of the city to secretly observe the battle from the other side of the Ralph River were now filled with a mixture of terror and shock. The Church’s Army of Judgment legions, the formidable knightly order known as the Spear of Radiance… they were supposed to be on a rescue mission, yet they hadn’t even reached the city gates before being casually annihilated outside Goldshine City.

“W-what? Didn’t the battle just start? It’s already decided? The Church… lost just like that?” the Earl of the temporary residence asked, his words nearly incoherent. “How is that possible? That’s the Army of Judgment! Don’t they all have awakened bloodline talents? Weren’t they all strong enough to contend with Spellcasters?”

Chief Knight Dickinson’s face was ashen as he muttered to himself, “The Army of Judgment… knights… If I hadn’t disguised myself and left the city to witness how this battle unfolded with my own eyes, I would never have believed it… The end of the age of knights… has arrived.”

The Earl shot to his feet, terrified. “They’re clearing the battlefield outside the city right now… Those bloodthirsty northerners won’t take this chance to storm the city, will they? Most of the nobles who haven’t left are counting on the Royal Court to surrender and negotiate a peace settlement according to the traditions between noble lords!”

Internal conflicts and changes of power among Humans had always followed noble traditions… Barring a blood feud, one would never annihilate a defeated opponent. To do so would be a stain upon the victor’s honor. Forgiveness and pardon not only built a good reputation for oneself and one’s family but also yielded a handsome ransom. There was simply no need to resort to such extremes.

To most of the nobles in the capital, the fall of the Grand Duke of St. Valen simply meant pledging fealty to a new ruler. As fence-sitters with shifting allegiances, as long as their noble status and titles remained, they could always carve out the same share of wealth and power under the new regime.

“Don’t forget, the Lord of the Northern Realm is no noble! He is a Spellcaster! A Spellcaster of commoner birth!” Dickinson snapped back to his senses and said in a low, resigned voice, “Get ready! We need to… surrender to them before they’ve finished this round of fighting. Maybe… maybe for the sake of public opinion, they’ll be willing to spare His Majesty the Grand Duke if he abdicates willingly.”

Chapter 454: Accepting Surrender

“My lord, the enemy has been completely eliminated, and the post-battle cleanup is underway,” Pierce reported to Harvey, kneeling on one knee with a hand to his chest.

Harvey nodded, satisfied with the day’s battle. From the first shot fired at dawn to the present, with not a single enemy left standing on the battlefield, the Northern Army of more than three thousand men had achieved their objective in less than three hours, completely wiping out the Church’s Judgment Army that had come to reinforce the capital.

From the banners they flew, they appeared to be the Holy See’s Spear of Radiance knightly order, which was permanently stationed in Isengard. Aside from a few battle priests who had remained behind, the main force of this illustrious Army of Judgment legion had been completely annihilated outside Goldshine City.

A force of over three thousand bloodline knights achieving such a brilliant victory—even the Federation’s Mage Corps, who constantly face the Demons head-on, would likely struggle to accomplish such a feat. But before the Northern Army, enhanced with magical technology and firearms, they were as fragile as scarecrows.

According to the initial report from the Logistics Department under Pierce, they had suffered fewer than a hundred fatalities. A small number of soldiers had been unexpectedly injured due to the enemy’s fearless charges, but with the Northern Army’s superior field medical department working at full capacity, most had their lives saved and would only need to return to Starfire City with the fleet to recuperate.

The officers whose combat duties had ended came to report one by one. Harvey glanced around and saw that every face showed hints of excitement and elation, and high spirits filled the entire army. Compared to past experiences fighting ordinary noble armies, this direct confrontation with the Church’s bloodline knights had taught them a lesson about underestimating the enemy, while also boosting their confidence that they could “wrestle” with transcendent beings on the battlefield. It was a truly fruitful victory.

He gave a light cough and was about to offer a few words of encouragement when the Captain of the personal guard, Tommy, hurried up from the base of the city wall and whispered to Harvey, “My lord, the Grand Duke of St. Valen’s Chief Knight and the Earl of the temporary residence are at the city gates, requesting an audience.”

“Oh?” Harvey gave a slight smirk, saying with interest, “The battle is over. It’s about time they showed up.”

If they kept hiding in the inner city’s Royal Court like ostriches, Harvey would have had to give their political acumen a poor rating.

“Tell them to go back for now,” Harvey said with a wave of his hand after a moment’s thought. “This is the capital, after all. Have them wait for me at the Royal Court. I will go there personally later…”

The nobles of the Royal Court would be the first to receive the news of the Northern Army’s swift victory. In a short while, it would spread throughout Goldshine City. In a few more days, the news of the Holy See’s knightly order being crushed outside Goldshine City and the capital falling into new hands would spread throughout the duchy. Harvey’s prestige and reputation as the Lord of the Northern Realm would reach its peak in the southern nations.

This would be a good opportunity for Starfire City to recruit talent and attract labor…

The southern campaign, which had been meticulously planned for months since the beginning of spring, could now be brought to a perfect conclusion. The Duchy of St. Valen, south of Starfire City, was now effectively under his complete control. He could finally return to peacefully managing his vast northern territory and focus on dealing with the impending great enemy of the non-human races.

…

Nearing noon, the Northern Army, having finished cleaning the battlefield, stood in neat formation at the base of the city wall, silent and disciplined, awaiting their City Lord’s command.

Harvey took a deep breath and announced in a clear voice, “The entire army will enter the city with me!”

“Yes, City Lord!” the officers responded in unison before turning to give orders to their subordinates. “First Battalion, clear the way! The other battalions will secure the route and protect the City Lord!”

At the same time, the distant fleet of ironclad ships received the signal. They raised their cannons and fired a salute into the sky. On command, the soldiers roared in unison: “Victory to the City Lord! Victory to Starfire City! Victory to the Northern Realm!”

Leading the mighty army, Harvey rode through the outer city in a new model of alchemical vehicle. The streets were deserted; all the commoners were hiding in their homes, not daring to show their faces, fearful of this King of the North who had just defeated the Holy See’s grand army.

Upon entering the inner city, Harvey discovered that his “deterrence operation” might have been a bit excessive. Compared to the commoner’s district in the outer city, with its already narrow streets and cluttered buildings, the inner city looked even more like it had just been baptized by the merciless flames of war. Any “landmark” building worth mentioning had suffered, to some degree, from several days of aerial bombardment. The worst-hit were the Cathedral of Splendor he passed and the Royal Court he was about to reach; the piles of broken walls and ruins made them almost unrecognizable.

The gates of the Royal Palace had long been reduced to dust by the bombing. Soldiers from the First Battalion, who had arrived early, showed no hesitation as they poured into the Royal Palace and began to secure it. The first place to be sealed off was the royal treasury; the wealth stored inside had already been mentally categorized by them as part of the City Lord’s spoils of war.

Getting out of the vehicle, he walked across the scorched and mottled courtyard of the Royal Palace. Harvey saw that the great domed hall, apparently once used by the Grand Duke of St. Valen and the Royal Court nobles for state affairs, had also collapsed. A group of terrified nobles stood awkwardly beside the ruins that had once symbolized the duchy’s supreme power, waiting with trepidation for his arrival.

Seeing the legendary Lord of the Northern Realm finally arrive, the dignitaries immediately stopped their hushed discussion and placed their hands on their chests in a salute. But Harvey didn’t give any of them a second glance. He had his personal guard bring a high-backed chair and sat down directly in front of the ruined hall.

The Earl of the temporary residence and the Chief Knight, who were at the front, exchanged a look with pale faces. Resigned to their fate, they led the way by kneeling on one knee, saluting Harvey again and begging for forgiveness. The other nobles, seeing this, seemed to understand in an instant… and they too prostrated themselves on the ground in terror.

“There’s no need for that. All of you, rise,” Harvey said languidly, but only after everyone was on their knees.

Though a native of the capital himself, Harvey was a complete stranger to these capital dignitaries, with whom he would never have crossed paths in the past. He could only say mockingly, “Gentlemen, forgive me for not being familiar with your identities and positions… I wonder who could make some introductions for me?”

The Earl of the temporary residence looked up, cleared his throat awkwardly, and stammered, “Respected Lord… Your Excellency, allow me to make the introductions…”

With that, he proceeded to introduce every noble present to Harvey in order of rank. To Harvey’s surprise, of the duchy’s entire high command, aside from the Prime Minister and the Minister of State, who had been close to the Church and had fled beforehand, the Earl of the temporary residence, the Chief Knight, the Minister of Finance, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, and the Royal Steward were all present.

But on second thought, it made sense. These men were not just noble subjects serving the current Grand Duke of St. Valen; the family origins of most could be traced back to the nation’s founding. No matter which Grand Duke ascended the throne, they had always held the privilege of supporting the Royal Court and sharing its power. By remaining in the capital to observe the situation… they were merely planning to follow past conventions and pledge fealty to him, the new ruler.

Unfortunately, they had miscalculated when it came to Harvey.

Chapter 455: Settling the Score and Shifting the Blame

“So… the glorious Archbishop of St. Valen is suspected of attempting to murder the Grand Duke, persecuting Spellcasters, spreading a plague to frame others… and inciting civil unrest and conflict between the south and the central kingdoms?”

With a blatantly mocking smile in his eyes, Harvey repeated the narrative spun by the Earl of the temporary residence and the Chief Knight in a sardonic tone.

None of the capital’s powerful nobles refuted him; they all lowered their heads in agreement.

It seemed they intended to pin all the blame squarely on the Church, creating a comical sense of the tables having turned—just over a year ago, it was the long-persecuted and exiled Spellcasters who were nailed to the pillar of shame for harming commoners and betraying their pacts.

As if that weren’t enough, the Earl of the temporary residence embellished the story, adding, “His Majesty the Grand Duke personally tried to dissuade him… only to be met with a treacherous assassination attempt. This is an unforgivable crime.”

“Oh? Is that so?” Harvey sneered. “Was the glorious Archbishop acting on orders from the Holy See, or was this his own initiative? Surely he wasn’t just momentarily confused? When they committed these crimes, some of you stood by and watched, while others aided the villains. Not a single one of you stood up to stop or oppose them!”

Dickinson frowned and bowed. “Lord City Lord, there are things you may not know. After His Majesty the Grand Duke was gravely injured and fell into a coma, the Bishop effectively took control of the Royal Court. He promoted his own confidants to the positions of Prime Minister and Minister of State. Even I… my position as commander of the Capital’s Knightly Order was stripped from me on some pretext… and replaced with someone from the Church.”

This part of his account was entirely true. After seizing control of the capital’s most formidable armed force, the Church, instead of using it to ensure the city’s safety, dispatched it entirely to the border battlefield. They forced the Duchy’s elite knights to bleed and die for the conflicts between the Church and the Federation, wasting their precious lives for nothing.

This also indirectly led to a situation where, when Harvey’s army arrived at the capital’s gates, Dickinson, the Grand Duke’s Chief Knight, found himself with no one under his command. He even had to seek the Prime Minister’s approval just to mobilize the city guard.

“You’ve absolved yourselves of all blame with just a few words.” Harvey shook his head, somewhat disappointed. He hadn’t held much hope for this group of nobles to begin with. They were nothing but a pack of vested interest holders, each with their own agenda—vampiric parasites clinging to the royal family and the capital, the very picture of hypocrisy, depravity, greed, and shamelessness.

“I trust you are all well aware that the Grand Duke of St. Valen is beyond saving… My Spellcaster advisors and Alchemists have all examined his condition. The Church forced him to consume large quantities of secret potions with unknown ingredients. His body has weakened to the point that only high-rank divine arts are keeping him alive.”

The Chief Knight’s eyes reddened. He dropped to one knee, head lowered in silence… The other nobles exchanged silent glances but made no gesture, as if the dying monarch wasn’t the man they had once sworn fealty to.

Only the Earl of the temporary residence stepped forward. “Lord City Lord, once His Majesty the Grand Duke passes… the vacant throne of St. Valen will surely attract the greedy eyes of the surrounding kingdoms. With all due respect, as the most powerful border lord of the Duchy, you should rightfully…”

The moment he spoke, the other nobles caught on—that conniver! Trying to be the first of the capital’s nobles to win the great merit of endorsing a new king!

“Exactly! Lord City Lord, the Duchy cannot be without a ruler to stabilize the situation, and we need a wise monarch to end the long-standing border wars!”

“Indeed. The lords conscripted to the border have long been suffering. They are secretly dissatisfied with how the Church has been recklessly expending their forces!”

“City Lord… no! Your Majesty! Your Majesty… We implore you, in your capacity as a border lord, to immediately assume the title of Grand Duke of St. Valen!”

The Grand Duke of St. Valen was only in his early thirties, and the Queen had passed away from illness years ago… Aside from rumors of an illegitimate son of dubious truth, he was indeed without an heir. As his paternal uncle, the Earl of the temporary residence did have a legal claim to the throne, but right now, that status put him on pins and needles. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have so completely disregarded the royal family’s dignity by being the first to jump out and endorse a new king.

Harvey waved a hand to silence them and said with a cold smile, “Now is not the time to discuss these matters… You may not know this, but when I select my subordinates—my talents and officials—I like to follow the principle of survival of the fittest.”

The Finance Minister stammered, wiping greasy sweat from his face, “Your Majesty… in this ‘survival of the fittest’… what does ‘eliminating the unfit’ mean?”

“Public trials, hangings, firing squads, hard labor…” Harvey took a thick stack of papers from a personal guard behind him and said nonchalantly, “Everything will be judged according to the laws and regulations of my Starfire City. Fair and just.”

Before the panicked nobles could react, he flipped to the first page and read aloud: “Baron Elliot, Steward of the Royal Court. On behalf of the Church, you forcefully conscripted laborers to be sent to the border, imposed exorbitant tax hikes on the surrounding areas of the capital, and permitted your subordinate Royal Court Guard to wantonly extort and plunder passing merchant caravans under the pretext of conducting patrols…”

Harvey listed the charges, one by one, in exhaustive detail. He quickened his pace, reading for two and a half pages before he finished.

Baron Elliot fell to his knees, his face a mask of terror. “No! Your Majesty! No… I was completely unaware of most of these things. It has nothing to do with me.”

Harvey glanced down at the intelligence seal stamped at the end of the document and chuckled. “You all should know full well that if I have the means to collect evidence of your crimes, I naturally have the means to distinguish truth from falsehood… Pleading innocence is useless.”

As soon as he finished speaking, two Northern Army soldiers stepped forward without expression and dragged the limp Baron Elliot away… One of the four options for elimination Harvey had just mentioned likely awaited him.

Harvey pursed his lips and continued flipping through the documents in his hand. “Well now! This next one is a major player… Sir Reynolds, the Deputy Prime Minister. When the Rotting Plague broke out, you put in a great deal of effort helping the Holy See round up Spellcasters and Alchemists, didn’t you!”

Sir Reynolds, however, was defiant. With a stiff face, he said, “My lord, these fabricated charges are a complete farce! I will not accept such baseless accusations. If you’ll excuse me, I shall take my leave…”

Before he could turn, the cold, sharp points of two gun barrels pressed against the small of his back, freezing him in place. Harvey spread his hands and smiled. “What’s this? Are you trying to force me to ‘eliminate’ you right here on the spot?”

He glanced around at the crowd and said contemptuously, “Or are none of you willing to confess voluntarily? In that case, I don’t need to go through this tedious formality. I might as well just have you all shot!”

The nobles’ eyes widened. They stumbled back in absolute terror. One even fell to the ground with a thud, unable to get up after struggling for a long moment.

The Northern Army soldiers surrounding the ruins of the Grand Council Hall raised their rifles in unison, their gleaming muzzles aimed directly at the panicked group of nobles.

“Calm down! Please don’t shoot! Your Majesty!” The Earl of the temporary residence waved his hands frantically, then, casting aside all noble dignity, he fell to his knees and prostrated himself. “I am willing to accept the accusations! I have not committed any unforgivable, mortal sins!”

The Chief Knight, Dickinson, who had been silent all this time, also stood up. He straightened his back and said without a trace of fear, “Lord City Lord, may I ask what the charges against me… are?”

Harvey clicked his tongue and casually flipped through the documents in his hands. A moment later, he looked up with a somewhat surprised expression. “Heh, Chief Knight Baron Dickinson, former commander of the Capital’s Knightly Order… I never thought that in a corrupt cesspool like the capital, I’d find someone as decent as you…”

Chapter 456: Removal and Confiscation

Just as Harvey planned, today’s “cleansing” and “judgment”—this game of talent selection—went exceptionally smoothly.

It continued until near dusk, with a steady stream of nobles from the capital, rounded up and detained from all over the inner city, being roughly dragged before Harvey by soldiers of the Northern Army, some with disheveled clothes, others bruised and swollen.

The person responsible for announcing the crimes had changed from Harvey to one of his personal guards—every time this loud-voiced soldier recited a noble’s name, everyone present couldn’t help but tremble, as if hearing the roar of a dragon from Hell in their ears.

Having just ended the great battle with the Church’s Army of Judgment legions in the morning, they had arrived at the Royal Palace in the afternoon to begin the “Public Trial.” This swift and decisive way of dealing with these once-prestigious and powerful nobles of the capital was a textbook example of Starfire City’s administrative efficiency.

In truth, Harvey was indeed in a hurry—controlling the soul puppet from such a great distance was extremely draining. Most of the time, he chose to disconnect, letting the puppet sleep in the flagship and handing command of the army over to Pierce.

Limited by the physical distance between Starfire City and the capital, Harvey had little energy to spare for this newly acquired city. It was impossible for him to establish the same thorough control he had over the Grizzly Bear Territory, so he couldn’t truly wipe out this lot of troublesome nobles. Aside from those who had colluded too deeply with the Church and were guilty of grave crimes, the minor nobles with clean backgrounds who hadn’t joined the corruption, as well as the ministers who were clearly ostracized after the Church took power, could become partners in cooperation, helping Harvey and the yet-to-be-established Administrative Hall maintain the capital’s basic operational stability.

Of course, a garrison was absolutely necessary. On one hand, it was needed to deal with the conflicts that would arise when the Capital’s Knightly Order, which had been sent to the border, returned to Goldshine City. On the other, it was to prevent a new round of counterattacks the Church might incite. Among the lords currently stationed on the border battlefields, there were quite a few whose status and power were worth the Church’s support to reignite civil unrest in the Duchy.

…

As night approached, the Northern Army soldiers occupying the Royal Palace lit bonfires and light-emitting magic stones, illuminating the area around the ruins of the Grand Council Hall as brightly as day.

After a long recitation of charges, the vast majority of them were dragged away, their limbs limp. The dungeons beneath the Royal Palace, which the soldiers had just cleaned out, now came in handy.

Of the original fifty or sixty nobles, fewer than ten remained. The one with the cleanest record was Chief Knight Dickinson. He had truly not disgraced his honor as the Chief Knight. Aside from being privately grumbled about for training his subordinate knights too harshly when he led the Capital’s Knightly Order, he was a model of integrity, never colluding with the Church or the other nobles.

To Harvey’s surprise, the Earl of the temporary residence, Haynes, was also one of the upright nobles. He had once temporarily served as Prime Minister after the previous one passed away, but was later removed from his position and ostracized for opposing the Church’s persecution of Spellcasters.

However, the “secret police” assigned to watch him seemed to have been very thorough. They had even dug up gossip-worthy details like the Earl having had nine marriages, with each bride being under the age of twenty, leaving Harvey at a loss for whether to laugh or cry.

The other nobles still present had not committed unforgivable, grave crimes. But the “secret police” had still diligently listed their various comical offenses. When the soldier responsible for announcing the charges read them aloud, not only did Harvey have to struggle to hold back his laughter, but the Earl of the temporary residence himself was so ashamed he wished he could bury his head in the ground.

“Alright!” Harvey said, waving his hand impatiently. “That’s enough… Some of the more scandalous deeds don’t need to be made public today. A little self-reflection after you leave will suffice.”

The nobles remaining on the scene all breathed a collective sigh of relief and said in unison, “Thank you for your pardon, City Lord… Your Majesty!”

Harvey pursed his lips, not particularly concerned by their blatant change of address.

“As I said at the beginning, this is about the ‘survival of the fittest.’ Since the unfit have been eliminated, you… the winners who remain… will naturally be rewarded.”

Before they could bow in thanks, Harvey cut them off and spoke, “But you must be clear. This is not a peaceful transition of power. In a sense… you are all on the losing side. While you won’t become my prisoners, you’ll still have to pay a price to buy back your freedom.”

The Earl of the temporary residence nodded. “I am willing to accept the punishment of having my family assets confiscated, Your Majesty… As long as you allow me to keep my family’s long-hereditary name and title, I will have honored the contributions of my ancestors who founded the nation.”

This last remaining royal member of the St. Valen family seemed to value family honor more than power and wealth.

Chief Knight Dickinson cared even less. He had already spent his entire family fortune rewarding his soldiers before the siege began, to inspire them to bravely follow him in defending the capital.

Harvey nodded in approval, then added, “Besides your assets… the lands of the feudal lords will also be confiscated. From now on, aside from an honorary title you can inherit, your noble status will no longer grant you any tangible privileges.”

Harvey didn’t make his words absolute. After all, an Administrative Hall would also be established in Goldshine City. To govern such a massive city, he couldn’t rely solely on officials sent from Starfire City. There would be no shortage of vacant positions of real power, and they would need to be filled by local nobles who knew how to read the situation.

Those present were either already without real power or had long been ostracized and oppressed… To have kept their lives and titles after Harvey’s army entered the city was a great fortune; they truly dared not ask for more.

After all, this Lord of the Northern Realm truly dared to purge nobles. Quite a few powerful and influential great feudal nobles had died at his hands—Earl Fegan of the Grizzly Bear Territory and Duke Ralph of Fengyuan City were two prime examples.

Of those dragged to the dungeons by his soldiers today, more than half would surely be sent to the gallows in the near future. The mere thought of it filled them with the grateful feeling of having escaped death.

“Alright, that’s all for today… You may leave the Royal Palace. Over the next three days, I will publicly execute those whose crimes are unforgivable… If you’re interested, you might as well come and watch. I’ll summon you again when I’m finished.” Harvey added with a smile, “But you all need to be mentally prepared. The way I govern a city or a country is completely different from anything you’ve ever seen. And if you want to work for me… the rule of ‘survival of the fittest’ applies at all times.”

After the nobles departed in trepidation, Harvey stood up and stretched. He was about to call his personal guard to escort him back to the flagship on the Ralph River to disconnect the soul puppet and let it go dormant again.

Tommy hurried forward and leaned in to Harvey’s ear. “My lord, outside the Royal Palace gates… two people claiming to be the former Grand Duke’s court Spellcaster Advisors have suddenly appeared, requesting an audience with you!”

Pierce’s expression changed. He said in a grave voice, “Spellcasters who served the nobles? They are a danger to my lord’s safety. They cannot be allowed to approach him!”

Chapter 457: The Truth of the Civil Unrest

Despite his subordinates’ strong objections, Harvey still chose to meet the two court mages who claimed to be advisors to the Grand Duke.

The reason was simple—the series of conspiracies and civil unrest that had occurred in the Duchy of St. Valen was simply too bizarre and difficult to comprehend from any angle.

Why would the Church spread the Rotting Plague within the capital, and why would they frame spellcasters for it? Weren’t they concerned that provoking a conflict with the Federation would lead to an all-out civil war, giving the non-human races a chance to invade?

With the Archbishop now dead from the church bombing and the Grand Duke of St. Valen not long for this world, the only way to learn the definitive truth was likely from these court mages who had escaped the purge.

“I’ll return to the ironclad ship at the riverbank docks first. You can bring these two to see me later.”

The soldiers who entered the inner city to control the Royal Palace were a minority; the fleet moored at the riverbank docks was where his main force was concentrated. Summoning these spellcasters there would be relatively safer and would prevent any unexpected trouble. Although Harvey had arrived in the capital using a soul puppet, he was unwilling to lose one of his already scarce puppet shells to an attack.

…

When the two parties finally met, they were both somewhat surprised.

The two court mages had never expected that the rumoredly powerful Mage Lord would be a frail, pale-faced young man who, based on his appearance, didn’t even look to be in his early twenties. On second thought, however, a high-level caster of his power and stature likely possessed many secret arts to alter his appearance. His true age and looks were probably not things he would reveal lightly.

Harvey, for his part, found it strange that the two middle-aged mages before him showed none of the airs of noble spellcasters. In their mannerisms and attire, they more closely resembled alchemists obsessed with research and experiments, like Chris.

“Pardon my bluntness, but you two seem more like alchemists than the typically high-and-mighty court spellcasters.”

The two exchanged a glance and smiled wryly. “Your insight is sharp, my lord. We should, by rights, be called… His Majesty the Grand Duke’s alchemical advisors. We are indeed spellcasters by origin, but our actual role was to provide alchemical services to His Majesty.”

Harvey nodded and asked, getting straight to the point, “So, as his personal advisors, you must know exactly why the Grand Duke ended up in his current state, don’t you? And what caused the Rotting Plague that broke out in the capital over a year ago? Why did the Church do it?”

The mage who introduced himself as McKinney was the first to explain. “As the royal family of the Duchy, every past Grand Duke of St. Valen, under the Church’s guidance and blessing, successfully awakened a formidable bloodline talent. But when it came to the current Grand Duke, the bloodline awakening failed.”

Seeing that Harvey did not interrupt, the other mage, named Collins, continued, “Everyone in the Holy See whispered that either His Majesty the Grand Duke’s bloodline had weakened, or… or that he was not of royal blood at all. In any case, it was all utter nonsense.”

The devout young Grand Duke naturally could not bear the scorn and suspicion cast upon his bloodline by the Church. Returning to St. Valen in a rage, he decisively turned his trust to spellcasters—he intended to use the power of alchemy and magic to forcefully awaken his family’s bloodline power, a move intended to be a vicious slap in the Church’s face.

Harvey scoffed. “And the experiment failed, causing a huge mess?”

“No. The Federation’s attitude was even more arrogant than the Holy See’s. They outright rejected His Majesty’s proposal and request, believing that magic and alchemy, meant for pursuing ultimate truth, should not be used to serve the desires of the secular nobility. Bloodline abilities, like spellcasting talent, are predetermined at birth. You either have it, or you don’t.”

It was a classic conservative Federation viewpoint, believing that a spellcaster’s talent also stemmed from bloodline inheritance. This group was likely similar to Astaren’s family, pursuing the purity of their wizard family’s bloodline in the belief that it would guarantee their descendants superior spellcasting talent.

“Since both the Federation and the Holy See refused to help, the Grand Duke’s last hope was you court mages and alchemists, wasn’t it?”

McKinney and Collins nodded helplessly. “The Federation’s attitude completely infuriated His Majesty, causing him to lose all trust in us spellcasters. In truth, we have no idea where he found a mysterious independent mage, under whose guidance he conducted the bloodline awakening experiment.”

The final outcome was self-evident—the experiment’s failure not only left the Grand Duke himself comatose and on the verge of death, but the personal guards who participated were also unknowingly infected with the Rotting Plague, a product of mana mutation.

The Church, in turn, saw a golden opportunity to strike a blow against the Federation’s reputation. Though they could have quickly contained the Rotting Plague with their divine arts, they chose to fan the flames instead, allowing the plague to spread rapidly among the capital’s populace.

Harvey let out a long sigh. He chose to believe that this truth, a fusion of the absurd and the coincidental, possessed a certain degree of credibility. These two court mages, who had luckily escaped the great purge, had no reason to appear at this critical juncture just to deceive him, an outsider on the verge of taking power.

After all, he had not the slightest interest in the throne of St. Valen.

As for why the Grand Duke was so obsessed with awakening his bloodline, or what methods the long-vanished independent mage had used to entice the ruler of a Duchy to take such a dangerous and uncertain risk with an alchemical magic experiment—the secrets within would likely never be fully uncovered.

A Necromancer did indeed possess the means to make the dead speak briefly after a short-lived revival, but the Grand Duke’s condition, which was clearly due to damage to his soul causing his physical body to fall into a state of chronic death and decay, was something that not even the Chief of the Federation could remedy.

The problem must lie with that independent spellcaster!

A thought flashed through Harvey’s mind. He began to consider why this person would orchestrate all of this from the shadows. The objective was obvious—he had indeed succeeded in manufacturing a conflict between the Federation and the Church, which in turn had triggered turmoil of varying degrees throughout the southern and central kingdoms.

Perhaps he could try seeking answers on the Spellcaster Forum and see if its well-connected and knowledgeable members had any information about this person.

At this thought, Harvey frowned slightly at the two court mages. “Although the initial cause of this incident had nothing to do with you, you chose to conceal the matter because of your noble status and did not make it public. In the end, it wasn’t just the Federation’s spellcasters who were affected and persecuted, but also countless ordinary spellcasters and alchemists within the Duchy…”

Harvey’s voice grew sterner, the implication of his words unmistakable. With the true culprit having fled and direct accountability impossible, the Church’s fanning of the flames and the complicity of noble mages like them were naturally unforgivable.

McKinney and Collins exchanged another苦 look. In truth, they couldn’t have run even if they had wanted to. This Lord of the Northern Realm’s relationship with the Federation was common knowledge. Once he completely stabilized the situation in St. Valen, he would naturally assist the Federation’s forces in their comeback, and they would undoubtedly reopen the investigation into the Rotting Plague incident.

Spellcasters like them, born into powerful and influential families, had no way of escaping the subsequent accountability. It was better to strike while the iron was hot, to seek an audience with Harvey and lay the truth bare before it was too late.

After all, by confessing early, there might yet be a slim chance of securing leniency for themselves.

Chapter 458: The Strategy to Crown a King

Deep in the night, Tommy, the Captain of the personal guard, ascended a secondary ship with light steps. Pushing open the iron door to the captain’s quarters, he found a group of mid to high-ranking officers of the Northern Army gathered in the room, discussing something in low voices.

“This sort of thing… are we really not going to inform the Commander?” Tommy’s usual roguish grin was on his face, but his voice was tinged with apprehension.

Vaughn pondered for a moment, then shook his head. “Commander Pierce has more to consider. There’s no need for us to put him in a difficult position… That way, even if my lord Harvey holds someone accountable, the Commander won’t be the first to be blamed and reprimanded.”

Dav sat to the side, fiddling with a cigarette, nodding repeatedly in agreement with his brother.

Wayne scanned the room, then turned to several young staff officers and political instructors. “Don’t worry, the army will definitely support your idea… We’re not good with fancy words. You guys explain it to everyone…”

Encouraged by the gazes of several staff officers, Ivan stood up. He cleared his throat, his eyes firm as he spoke, “Commanders, you must have realized from today’s situation… that the City Lord does not seem to intend to replace the former Grand Duke and ascend to the Duchy’s highest throne.”

It wasn’t just that he had no intention. When those capital nobles who had bowed their heads in submission began to address him as “Your Majesty,” the expression on the City Lord’s face was more of contempt and disdain; he showed no sign of being moved in the slightest.

Seeing no objections from the crowd, Ivan paused and continued, “But we all know that the status and power we hold today are entirely due to my lord’s cultivation and trust. Under his leadership, we were able to establish a magnificent and prosperous city in the vast barren lands. Whether they are refugees from the Northern Realm or the south, everyone can live equally and happily in our peaceful new home…”

All of this was thanks to the wise and benevolent leadership of Harvey, the Lord who held true power. From taking in refugees and driving out the vile orcs, to establishing an army to defend their home, to resisting the invasions and plunder of the southern nobles, they had finally reached the point of founding a city, enacting laws, and bringing most of the Duchy of St. Valen’s territory under their jurisdiction…

“But my lord seems unwilling to take the next step… It’s truly…”

“Perhaps… the ideals my lord has promoted throughout the territory—abolishing the true power of the nobility, the idea that all people are equal regardless of birth—have indirectly influenced him… causing him to hesitate in replacing the former Grand Duke.”

“But a kingdom of this size cannot be without a king… My lord ascending to the highest throne is what the people wish for. If he still hesitates, I believe we must all work together to give this matter a push at the critical moment.”

“Do not forget the oath you all swore to follow my Lord and pledge your lives in fealty!”

“No! We would never dare forget!”

“Right! We would never dare forget!”

…

The Ralph River was exceptionally quiet at midnight. On the line of ironclad ships, aside from the faint sounds of soldiers on their frequent patrols, there was only the endless surging of the river’s current.

Harvey’s soul puppet lay quietly inside the main ship’s captain’s quarters, its eyes tightly shut as if in a deep slumber.

Commander Pierce gently pushed open the cabin’s iron door and walked over to the heavy wooden crate containing Harvey’s puppet shell.

“My lord… your officers and subordinates are secretly conspiring on the ships right now… They want to incite the populace to join them when the expeditionary army returns to Starfire City… to install you as their king.”

The pale puppet shell’s eyes slowly opened. It propped itself up and stared at Pierce for a moment before chuckling softly. “Strange. They didn’t plan to inform you? You, Astaren, and Rainer have clearly been pushing this from the shadows, putting in no small effort, haven’t you?”

A rare blush appeared on Pierce’s face. He knelt on one knee and saluted. “My lord, please forgive our transgression and overreach.”

Harvey’s calm and gentle gaze remained fixed on him, making him feel an unusual, invisible pressure. But Pierce still raised his head, stubbornly defending himself and his two colleagues.

“This is what everyone is thinking, and what the people are thinking…”

“From the moment you saved us all those years ago, I swore to follow you until the end of my life. No matter what, the life and loyalty of Pierce Floyd will always belong to you.”

After a long moment, Harvey slowly shifted his gaze from the kneeling Pierce. He stood up on his own and walked to the cabin window, speaking lightly to himself, “You three tacitly allowed those fervent subordinates to plot my installation as the new king of St. Valen… Heh, and how have I not been tacitly allowing everything you’ve done?”

He didn’t turn around, continuing in a low voice, “I have no desire to stage some hypocritical farce of a ‘yellow robe’ incident with three refusals… The reason I haven’t made my attitude clear to you is that I believe St. Valen will no longer need a nominal monarch in the future.”

Harvey turned around, his gaze gentle as he looked at the stunned Pierce, and smiled. “Because this vast southern land will be completely incorporated into Starfire City’s sovereign territory… and the Northern Realm is the true center of our kingdom’s development. The barren lands will have a new king.”

…

The next day, upon returning to the inner city of the capital, Harvey learned two pieces of news from his subordinates. After a night-long search by the Northern Army soldiers controlling the inner city, they had successfully captured a high-rank member of the Church who had remained in the city and failed to escape—a high priest who had nearly been killed on the spot by the soldiers.

Before dawn, Pierce had already hurried to the Royal Palace dungeon to conduct a “thorough and effective” interrogation of the high priest. He quickly learned from him the location of the secret laboratory where the former Grand Duke had undergone bloodline modification, as well as the whole story of how the Church had interfered, causing the experiment to fail and the Rotting Plague to spread.

“Use a Recording Stone to record this Priest’s confession and testimony, then make a few copies for your intelligence agents,” Harvey instructed Intelligence Chief 007, who was standing beside him. “Have them spread this news, especially the Church’s true motive in fanning the flames, as well as the details of their collusion with the now-imprisoned capital nobles. Publicize it as widely as possible… I want every citizen in this city to know what these conspirators have done.”

Intelligence Chief 007 bowed. “Understood! I’ll see to it at once!”

Then Harvey turned to Pierce. “Use the Magic Brain device to immediately notify Chris and Egnor back in Starfire City… and also Dean Arturo of the Magic Science Research Institute. Tell them to bring a contingent of Necromancers and set out at once. They should come to the capital as soon as possible via the continental teleportation array.”

Pierce paused, a troubled look on his face. “My lord, Sir Chris and Sir Egnor will be no problem, but Dean Arturo and the others… I’m afraid they might be worried about coming to Goldshine City openly identifying as Necromancers, right?”

Harvey pursed his lips and said with a sigh of resignation, “Fine, I’ll give them the order myself!”

When the Rotting Plague first broke out, the Necromancers were the first to be unjustly blamed for harming commoners. Summoning them now was, on one hand, to assist with the investigation into the Grand Duke’s bloodline experiment, and on the other, to announce the truth about the plague to the city’s populace and clear the Necromancers’ names.

Moreover, it wouldn’t be long before he contacted the Federation and had them re-establish a branch in the Duchy of St. Valen to restore the influence of Spellcasters among the common people. In the past, the orthodox Spellcasters of the Federation had always looked down on Necromancers. Now that there was an opportunity to slap them in the face, he believed Arturo and the others wouldn’t refuse him and continue to hole up resentfully in the Northern Realm.

As for the surviving independent Spellcasters within St. Valen who had been persecuted and exiled… he believed that after this series of events, the Federation would certainly no longer trust them. This provided him with the perfect opportunity to gather them all in one fell swoop, using all sorts of “magical sugar-coated shells” to bring them all under his command.

After all, when it comes to snatching talent from the Federation… one naturally has to be unscrupulous.

Chapter 459: The Spoils of War

Strictly speaking, Harvey was also a native of the capital.

He had been born in Goldshine City. His grandfather had been an ordinary knight in the City Guard. Although his father was never formally knighted, he had relied on his family’s legacy to scrape by with a position in the City Guard… Unfortunately, a long life of ease had caused his skills to atrophy, and not long after developing a drinking problem, he died from an accidental fall from his horse.

As the product of a Transmigrator’s soul merging with the original body’s… Harvey’s memories of his youth had always been somewhat hazy. Consequently, the city where he had lived for more than ten years felt more foreign than familiar.

Without a doubt, before the establishment of Starfire City, the capital was one of the few prosperous places in the central region of the south… Although it was still quite backward from the perspective of a Transmigrator, that didn’t stop it from being the most affluent city among the central kingdoms of the south.

What moved Harvey the most was its vast population and the naturally higher quality of its local populace. The capital had always been a land of opportunity. Nobles whose family fortunes have declined, who had lost their inheritance rights, or whose fiefdoms were barren invariably chose to come to the capital to find a chance to turn their fortunes around… Frequent intermarriage also meant that almost everyone in the noble circles was related in some way.

Combined with the court nobles and Capital’s Knights appointed by the royal family, along with empty titles like honorary knight and Lord that could be bought with a hefty sum of gold pounds and the right connections, a massive noble class had gradually converged in Goldshine City.

As long as their minds hadn’t been addled by inbreeding, these nobles, great and small, had at least received a formal home education. Literacy was a basic skill… If they were raised as heirs to a family and a title, they would have had to learn complex matters such as governance or commerce, making them a veritable reserve of high-quality municipal officials.

After all, the land around the capital was precious and had mostly been annexed by the royal family and the great nobles. Most of these capital nobles had no fiefdoms and thus were unlikely to resist Harvey’s policy of mandatory land confiscation. As long as their personal character and background were acceptable… they were actually more suitable to manage and run the city for Harvey than the officials from the Administrative Hall dispatched from a thousand miles away in Starfire City.

Besides the labor force and administrative talent, the capital was also the most prosperous center of commerce and trade in the entire central region of the south. All sorts of merchant guilds and craftsmen’s guilds, large and small, were established here. Many goods that were rare in the central part of the continent were gathered here in large quantities. A simple recruitment notice could gather a large number of highly skilled craftsmen.

Harvey had no intention of leaving this talent for Goldshine City. Naturally, he would bring as many of them as possible back to the Northern Realm to bolster his production and manufacturing departments, which were chronically short of skilled workers.

Finally, there was the Royal Palace treasury… and the confiscated assets of nobles. Gold, jewels, antique collections, magical materials, and precious potions were piled high in several large dockside warehouses that had been cleared out specifically for this purpose. Although the tally was still ongoing, Harvey estimated their value would amount to a return of nearly three hundred thousand gold pounds.

However, Harvey didn’t plan to just bluntly haul all this wealth back to the Northern Realm. Ten ironclad ships couldn’t possibly carry it all in one trip. Besides, repairing the capital’s heavily bombarded inner city would require some expenditure. The subsequent management and operation of the newly established City Hall, as well as pacifying the populace, were all areas that required money. Piling gold in a warehouse was meaningless… Adhering to the principle of spending money where he earned it, Harvey immediately contacted several large merchant guilds with whom he had always enjoyed a pleasant partnership and drew up long lists of goods and materials like a flowing stream.

A portion of it would be used to rebuild Goldshine City, while another portion would, of course, be shipped to Starfire City as usual, to support the expanded production plan and further improve the quality of life for its citizens.

After all, no matter how advanced and prosperous Starfire City became… beloved items like southern tobacco, western red tea, and eastern spices couldn’t be produced locally and still had to rely on import trade. The unbelievable wealth of the residents of this new city built on the barren lands was also coveted by the major merchant guilds of the south… Civilian goods fairs, spearheaded by the Commercial Department under the Administrative Hall, were now held in the city almost every month, with a countless, snow-like flurry of import and export orders.

…

After finishing his review of the collected spoils of war, Harvey set off for the Royal Palace once more. He had received news early that morning that the Grand Duke of St. Valen had stopped breathing completely in his deep coma around dawn.

“Post the obituary this afternoon. If any nobles or commoners wish to spontaneously mourn… do not stop them.” Harvey had little interest in pursuing the crimes and mistakes of a dead man. With the confession from the Church’s high-rank high priest, the false accusation that Spellcasters had assassinated the Grand Duke had long been cleared. It was better to use this opportunity to cultivate his image as a magnanimous and benevolent ruler, which would be of great help and benefit for recruiting talent to serve in the Northern Realm later.

The heavy coffin containing the Grand Duke’s body was slowly carried out from the bedchamber. The few remaining Royal Court guards, their faces sorrowful, carried the coffin slowly toward the Royal Cemetery. As the defeated party who had surrendered, they held no hope that the now powerless royal family would have the chance to hold a formal funeral for the Grand Duke. The Royal Cemetery was already within the Royal Court; a simple burial would suffice.

The Chief Knight, Dickinson, had uncharacteristically removed his full suit of knight’s armor. He wasn’t even carrying his royally bestowed side sword. He wore only a simple knight’s training tunic, a hemp rope tied at his waist, and stood as straight as a javelin by the gate of the Grand Duke’s simple tomb.

The late-arriving Harvey raised a hand and beckoned him over. “Mr. Chief Knight…”

Dickinson knelt on one knee in a salute, his head bowed. “My lord City Lord, please do not call me Chief Knight anymore… After His Majesty’s passing, his Chief Knight naturally ceases to exist.”

“Oh?” Harvey asked with great interest. “I thought Chief Knight was an honorary title without real power, held for life once conferred.”

There was not much mockery in his words, but Dickinson still felt a slight sting in his heart upon hearing them. He looked up with a bitter smile. “If His Majesty had died fighting valiantly, I would naturally do my utmost to avenge him… But today’s situation was not caused by you alone, My lord City Lord. Furthermore, you came here with the goal of ending war with war, and you have not subjected those of us who surrendered to any insult or humiliation…”

Harvey chuckled lightly. “Since you understand my purpose, are you willing to do something for me? This matter is also for the sake of completely quelling this senseless war that has spread across the central kingdoms.”

Dickinson froze for a moment, then said blankly, “Me? My lord City Lord, what qualification could I have…”

Harvey waved his hand and continued on his own, “You were once the commander of the Capital’s Knightly Order, were you not? If I asked you to lead a contingent of the Northern Army to the Duchy’s border battlefield and persuade the Capital’s Knights and fiefdom lords who are still in a stalemate with Da’ers to surrender… could you do it?”

Chapter 460: Rebuilding the Federation Branch

In St. Valen’s capital, Goldshine City, at the branch of the Federation of Casters.

The fully repaired continental-level teleportation array hummed, and after a pulse of intense mana fluctuations, several figures in spellcaster robes appeared at its center. The one in the lead was a familiar face.

“By the Arcane! My dear friend!” Spellshield Fran Macaulay stepped off the teleportation array and opened his arms to greet Harvey, who was waiting below with a smile.

“You’re the one in charge of rebuilding the Federation’s St. Valen branch? Is that you, sir?” Harvey asked, a little surprised. “Mr. Macaulay, I thought you had been officially promoted to Director of the Department of Magical Affairs.”

Spellshield warmly shook the hands Harvey extended and said with a grin, “Rebuilding the branch is also within the scope of the director’s responsibilities… Of course, I’m not particularly skilled at the actual execution, but when I heard you were in Goldshine City yourself, I was more than willing to lead the team here and catch up with you in person.”

Harvey raised an eyebrow, noticing a slight but distinct change in Mr. Macaulay’s attitude toward him. The first time they had met in person in Araye, Harvey had not yet adopted his special “agent” identity on the Forum. Back then, Spellshield had treated him like a powerful senior selflessly looking out for a new junior from the same secret organization.

But now, after Harvey had taken the lead as the Forum’s “agent” to forge a deep partnership with the Federation, successfully orchestrated the rescue of the First Chief, Lord Salas, and now held the key research and development technology for the “Gun of Annihilation”—the Federation’s core weapon for dealing with the Demons—Harvey could clearly feel that this magic politician, who had once considered himself a senior, now truly saw him as a superior.

Fran Macaulay briefly delegated the follow-up work before leaving the branch, which was still under renovation, with Harvey. They returned to the inner city’s Royal Court, currently under the control of the Northern Army.

Harvey had ordered a spacious and comfortable reception room to be prepared in advance and had dismissed all his personal guards, including Tommy.

“Heh, your squires seem very loyal and reliable. If you weren’t here, I suspect they would have insisted on searching me first…” Fran Macaulay made a harmless little joke. “Don’t they know that the Spellcaster they’ve pledged fealty to is a formidable individual capable of easily casting high-rank creative spells?”

Harvey smiled helplessly. “My squires are barren landers from the Northern Realm. They’ve never known much about Spellcasters.”

“Oh?” Fran Macaulay paused, looking perplexed. “I heard that your fiefdom in the Northern Realm has officially been established as a city. I haven’t had the chance to congratulate you yet… That fellow Ferr, though he’s far away on the Demon battlefield in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, often worries about your situation.”

This was a heartfelt sentiment. Mr. Son of Flame was indeed a warm-hearted person, and his interactions with Harvey, both on the Forum and in reality, had always been exceptionally sincere.

However, having been preoccupied with real-world affairs recently, Harvey had tried to leave all Forum matters to Astaren. The alchemical lifeform, always strict and rigid in his dealings, probably paid little mind to the frequent greetings from Harvey’s few Forum netizens. Alchemical lifeforms always tended to approach external matters with an abundance of reason, a trait that was impossible to change.

Harvey himself certainly didn’t want the changes in their respective statuses to erode the precious friendships he had with these founding members of the Forum. He quickly apologized, “I’m very sorry. I’ve been so busy with the affairs of my fiefdom that I’ve neglected your and Mr. Son of Flame’s concern.”

Fran Macaulay waved his hands repeatedly, indicating that he didn’t mind. Such attempts to build rapport couldn’t last too long, and he quickly changed the subject to business. “The mediation of the war between Da’ers and St. Valen, as well as stopping the Church’s further aggression against the Federation—it was all thanks to your strenuous efforts!”

He paused, his expression turning a little strange as he continued, “It’s just… it’s just that neither the three Chiefs nor the high-ranking members of the Federation ever expected… that you would be so decisive, choosing to march on Goldshine City with such a show of force, directly dethroning the culprit and even managing to intercept the elite Army of Judgment legions sent as reinforcements by the Holy See…”

If the Federation had been handling the matter, the debate over whether to go to war at all would have been enough to keep them arguing in their Araye headquarters for an entire summer. The internal factions had different stances and various considerations and games to play, which would have ultimately resulted in a backroom exchange of interests between the magic politicians and the Holy See’s holy rollers, causing the battle mages and commoner soldiers on the front lines to sacrifice their lives for nothing.

Harvey chuckled lightly. “Don’t forget, I am not only a Spellcaster but also a feudal lord within St. Valen. When I discussed our cooperation with the First Chief, I made it very clear that assisting you in mediating the conflict was also for the sake of quelling the continuous turmoil within my own country.”

Fran Macaulay nodded, murmuring, “That’s natural. From now on, regardless of whether it’s peace or war with the Holy See, the Federation will honor its promise and stand steadfastly by your side, fully supporting you in your confrontation with the Church’s power within the Duchy of St. Valen.”

“Mr. Macaulay, the cooperation plan that the First Chief and I discussed… it involved more than just the issue with the Church.”

Harvey narrowed his eyes, openly addressing the most critical point.

Fran Macaulay’s body trembled slightly. He straightened his robes and sat up properly. “That’s right. The higher-ups in the Federation have indeed convened several secret meetings to discuss this…”

He swallowed, looking Harvey straight in the eye as he said in a low voice, “Mr. Kel’Thuzad, right now I am not asking you as the Director of the Federation’s Department of Magical Affairs, but as your friend… The historical truth you obtained from the ancient ruins, the matter of the continental heartland being the origin of the Human race… is it absolutely true?”

Harvey matched his earnest gaze. “Absolutely true! I swear it on truth and my soul, my friend.”

“It’s not just the truth of the Human race’s origin. Back then, our race was driven from the continental heartland and forced to resettle and prosper in the south. And now, those non-human enemies who defeated us will probably make a comeback before long… to fight us for this last place of survival.”

Fran Macaulay shot to his feet, pacing back and forth in the room with an anxious expression. He muttered to himself, looking lost, “So we really are… the defeated who were driven out.”

An enemy of a non-human race more powerful than the Church, the Demons, or even the Dragons…

Perhaps the pride of a Spellcaster wouldn’t allow him to show fear, but Harvey could clearly see the chaos and confusion in the man’s eyes.

“Mr. Macaulay, when the non-human races invade, the Federation won’t be the only power in the south capable of resisting. To be precise… it shouldn’t be us Spellcasters alone who bear the heavy responsibility for the survival of our race.”

Fran Macaulay’s pacing came to a sudden halt. His eyes went wide with disbelief. “You… What do you mean?”

“Look at my soldiers outside. Look at those ordinary commoners… They will never allow non-humans to invade their homes so easily. To protect their cherished lands, families, and friends, they will also take up arms and fight alongside us.”

Harvey rose and walked to the window, pointing at the soldiers standing guard in formation outside the room. “I’m sure you’ve seen it,” he said in a deep voice. “These mortal soldiers I’ve trained, once equipped with powerful magical weapons, are no less capable in combat than the high-and-mighty Spellcasters… In fact, they might even have the upper hand.”

He paused, then continued with words so shocking that Fran Macaulay’s mouth fell open, leaving him stunned for a long time.

“Besides, when it truly comes to the life and death of our race, with an external enemy at our gates, we probably can’t afford to be too scrupulous. We must unite all forces that can be united, all peoples that can be brought together… Not just the Radiant Church, who are also Humans, but also the Burrowing Dwarves, the Sea-folk, the Elves who live alongside us in the south… and even the Demons!”

This was a united front to resist the non-human invasion!

Chapter 461: A New School of Necromancy

Northern Barren Lands, Starfire City Magic Science Research Institute.

After a full day of experimental research, Arturo Lambert had just returned to his private quarters within the Academy of Sciences when he heard the beeping of a message notification from the Magic Brain device on his desk.

Magic Brain communication technology was already widespread in Starfire City. The Central Administrative Hall had even established a brand-new department for it—the Ministry of Communications—to centrally manage and coordinate the magical communication devices scattered throughout the city.

Unlike most departments, which could only use the “internal network,” the Academy of Sciences was one of the few privileged institutions that could send and receive information from outside the territory via its Magic Brain devices. Dean Arturo had even joined the Magic Net Casters Forum on the joint recommendation of several of the territory’s Spellcaster Advisors, including Duncan and the Eye of Illusion.

He skillfully activated the Magic Brain device from its standby mode, and two messages, clearly from different senders, quickly popped up on the crystal screen.

One was from his only son, Ash Lambert. Ash often used the Ministry of Culture’s internal Magic Brain network to send him simple greetings, but most of the time, Arturo didn’t reply.

The second message, by contrast, clearly piqued his interest and demanded his attention. It was a short message from the City Lord.

He opened the message and quickly read through it—

[Either you, Xilisi, or Proulx is to lead a team. Select several of the Academy’s most outstanding and capable researchers and set off for the capital, Goldshine City, at once… Let’s give those orthodox Spellcasters of the Federation, who have always looked down on Necromancers, a proper demonstration of our new school of necromancy, whose path of development has been reforged!]

The soul fire in Arturo’s eyes flared. He felt his alchemical Soul Core trembling violently, as if on the verge of overheating and shutting down.

The Federation of Casters was a powerful magical association that most independent Spellcasters dedicated to the pursuit of truth and wisdom yearned to join. Compared to any other Spellcaster organization or wizard family in the south, the Federation’s magical philosophies and research directions were far more forward-thinking and advanced. The miraculous city of Araye, built from the convergence of all magical power, was a place countless Spellcasters dreamt of and longed for.

The young Arturo had been no exception.

Within the entire Lambert family and the Necromantic Cult, perhaps only his two closest friends, Xilisi and Proulx, knew that in his youth, Arturo had once tried to renounce his family’s legacy and apply for membership in the Federation… He had presented a brand-new spell of necromantic flesh magic he had developed: [Resurrection and Proliferation]. It was a refined technique based on his family’s ancestral research, which involved temporarily grafting the enhanced limbs and torso of a Living Corpse onto a Spellcaster, granting immense physical amplification to a caster whose body was frail and unsuited for close combat.

Using this combat-oriented spell as his “foot in the door” to join, Arturo had been full of confidence… but he was met with a merciless rejection in the Federation’s very first internal review council. The Speaker presiding over the Review Council at the time hadn’t even deigned to watch his demonstration. After merely listening to the theoretical description, he had risen with a displeased expression and stormed out.

He had left behind words that Arturo had been dwelling on ever since—“If the filthy, dark magic of Necromancers can be paraded around so brazenly within the Federation, the world will think our proud hall of truth is nothing but a den of vice. It would only give the Church more reason to attack and scorn us!”

Arturo had swallowed that anger for nearly twenty years. But the status of Necromancers in the magical world only continued to decline, their situation becoming so dire that they had to flee overseas and live in seclusion. Unable even to ensure their own safety… Arturo had gradually lost the ambition he once had to revive the school of necromancy and make those proud, conceited orthodox Spellcasters take him seriously.

After all, the orthodox could publish their research papers in the immensely influential magical gazettes, while Necromancers like him had to endure layers of scrutiny and obstruction from various powers just to purchase a legally sourced corpse for research. The fact that the school of necromancy as a whole lagged so far behind other schools of casting was a bitter pill Arturo had long been forced to swallow.

Of course, this miserable state of affairs continued until they met Harvey, who had traveled from afar to visit his dear friend, controlling a soul puppet… His Excellency the City Lord not only saved him when he was on the brink of death from a reckless Lich transformation experiment, but he also generously offered refuge to the Necromancers who were being hunted down in a joint crackdown by the Federation and the Church, giving them a place to stand in a new city in the Northern Barren Lands.

Most importantly… His Excellency the City Lord had shown them a brand-new path for their school’s development—the study of souls and Magic Net energy!

From then on, Arturo found that all the necromantic flesh magic he had learned in the past seemed like trivial, superficial tricks. No matter how he looked at it, his old knowledge felt backward, conservative, and meaningless… The truth contained within the field of soul energy research was as vast as the ocean, and the City Lord, as their guide and enlightener, had illuminated a brand-new path of exploration for all the necromancers who had once been lost.

This time, the road to ultimate truth was no longer filled with the unknown and chaotic. After repeatedly verifying the existence of mana’s three forms, magical runes—once mistakenly seen as mere manifestations of incantations and adjuncts to rituals—had become the “source code” that could act directly on mana itself… In the world of souls and energy, everything seemed so orderly, just like the alchemical beasts used in the various production factories and manufacturing departments, methodically following their established procedures.

Just like Arturo himself. After undergoing an unbelievable soul transfer experiment, as an alchemical lifeform, he could more keenly appreciate the endless wonders of soul research… Freed from the frail, aging flesh-and-blood body that had been constantly eroded by death energy, and liberated from the gradually clouding vision caused by poring over research, he could now conduct experiments tirelessly as long as he was covered by the planetary energy-gathering array’s network. His reactions were always sharp, and his movements were perfectly stable and precise down to the finest detail.

[Give those orthodox Spellcasters of the Federation a proper demonstration of our brand new school of casting!]

Harvey’s invitation echoed in Arturo’s mind. His body, in a rare, uncontrolled movement, stood up on its own. He turned and walked out of the study… only to run right into his two dear friends, Xilisi and Proulx, who also lived in the Academy of Sciences.

“You two are…”

Xilisi and Proulx glanced at each other, their expressions exceptionally excited as they spoke in unison: “Dean… no! Clan Head! You weren’t planning on keeping the City Lord’s message from us and taking a team to the capital alone, were you?”

Arturo paused, then said awkwardly, “O-Of course not. I was just about to come find you to discuss it.”

Xilisi breathed a sigh of relief, then said with a vibrant expression, “The City Lord’s message notified us as well. Since we all know, and he didn’t give strict orders about the roster… how about we all go to the capital together?”

After all, Arturo wasn’t the only Necromancer who had been bottling up a bellyful of resentment, desperate to redeem their honor before the orthodox Spellcasters.

Chapter 462: Slapped in the Face, One After Another (Part 1)

For Chuck Lawrence, a newly advanced high-rank research mage, being dispatched to St. Valen’s capital, Goldshine City—a city just baptized by the flames of war—to oversee the reconstruction of the Federation’s branch… was like a massive windfall falling from the sky.

Although Fran Macaulay, the director of the Department of Magical Affairs, had swooped in and snatched the position of team leader, the actual reconstruction work was still personally handled by Lawrence. Naturally, he would be the one to stay in Goldshine City and serve as the branch director.

What delighted him most was that he was about to take over a “clean slate” where the Radiant Church and the Royal Court nobles had all been purged. There would be no constant nitpicking from Church Priests, nor frequent trouble from court mages. Lawrence even suspected that once the eccentric Lord of the Northern Realm withdrew, he would be the only high-level caster left in Goldshine City.

This kind of comfortable treatment, where he could operate freely without being constrained at every turn, was likely something no other city branch director in the southern nations had ever enjoyed.

Of course,人们 often become harder to satisfy once they acquire power, and the newly minted magic politician Lawrence was no exception. Before arriving, he had already hatched a plan. Since the Federation’s external “enemies” in Goldshine City had been completely toppled, the next logical step was to shift his managerial focus inward and properly sort out the branch’s internal operating procedures.

After all, concentrating power in his own hands would better demonstrate his administrative abilities. Perhaps after a few years of good performance, he could return to the Araye headquarters as he wished and be promoted to the Magic Council Department, securing a precious seat in the Hall of Truth.

Lawrence’s plan was meticulous. First, he would reopen the magic academies that had been shut down by the Church and the nobles, recruiting new teachers and students in the name of the branch. As for the position of Dean… naturally, as the branch director, he would reluctantly take on the concurrent role. This way, all magic apprentices graduating from the academies would, in the future, be known as his students, which would be a tremendous boost to his reputation in the magical world.

Then there was the Alchemical Exploration Society, which always followed the Federation’s lead. They had also been heavily implicated in the recent turmoil in St. Valen; several of their laboratories and alchemy workshops in the capital had been destroyed. Alas… these weak and isolated Alchemists. It would be better to bring them directly into the branch’s administrative system. It would be best if their workshops and laboratories were established under the Federation branch’s properties. After all, Alchemists weren’t skilled in business and management. He could also take this opportunity to add a new source of income for the branch—a perfect win-win situation.

However, a piece of news he suddenly received this morning was a little hard for him to accept.

That Spellcaster-born Lord of the Northern Realm had also, on a whim… decided to establish a new Spellcaster organization in the capital called the Academy of Sciences. Furthermore, it would work closely with the Federation’s branch in the future as a pilot program for the “New Federation.”

What did “New Federation” mean? Lawrence had no desire to waste his energy dwelling on it. The dispatch from the Araye headquarters did mention that the Goldshine City branch was to unconditionally cooperate with all of the Lord of the Northern Realm’s instructions, but what was the meaning of suddenly forming a Spellcaster organization to compete directly with the Federation?

Lawrence could only surmise that the other party did not intend to let the Federation monopolize all the spellcasting talent and magical resources in Goldshine City. He found it somewhat laughable. On the surface, they had publicly partnered with the Federation, yet in private, they still maintained this defensive posture. This Lord of the Northern Realm still seemed just as short-sighted and petty as those independent Spellcasters.

Fine, let him establish his farcical Academy of Sciences. When the time came, he would naturally learn that when it came to attracting talent and amassing resources, an obscure, makeshift organization like his stood no chance against the Federation, which spanned the entire Southern Continent.

Just as Lawrence was lost in his own thoughts, a clerk suddenly rushed into the branch hall, which was still under renovation, and reported to him, “Director, that… that Lord of the Northern Realm is heading to our branch! Mr. Macaulay from the Department of Magical Affairs is with him.”

“Hm? What is he coming here for?”

The clerk paused for a moment before stating woodenly, “He said he’s bringing the core members of that… Academy of Sciences, to visit and have an exchange with the branch.”

A jolt went through Lawrence, his spirits soaring. Well, well! The man was coming to give him a show of force to intimidate newcomers!

“Gather all branch members. You will all come with me to welcome the Mage Lord of the Northern Realm!”

…

Harvey had originally planned to walk to the Federation branch in the capital’s inner city, but unfortunately, the inner city, having just endured a series of bombardments, was filled with collapsed buildings and narrow, blocked roads. To avoid causing a stir among the city’s residents, he had no choice but to take Arturo and the others who had just arrived and descend from the sky in an Airship.

It was also a good chance for Macaulay, who had never flown in an aerial vehicle before, to experience a different mode of flight.

Before the Airship landed, soldiers of the Northern Army, armed with Magical Energy Guns, had already arrived ahead of them in formation. They had rather impolitely surrounded the entire branch and even attempted to enter and conduct a search, nearly causing an unnecessary conflict between the two sides.

When Harvey and his group disembarked from the Airship, they happened to witness the tense and awkward standoff. He couldn’t help but give Mr. Spellshield an apologetic nod, to which the other man could only respond with a helpless shrug.

Lawrence stood with a solemn expression before the branch’s main gate, not forgetting to quietly remind his director’s secretary and his Deputy, “Although we are all Spellcasters, on a formal occasion, you must still address him as ‘Your Excellency, the City Lord.’ Don’t act too casually. He is not an ordinary independent Spellcaster; he is the lord of a city.”

The Deputy, a proud and arrogant young mid-rank Mage, curled his lip in disdain upon hearing this. “A Spellcaster obsessed with secular power, what right does he have to be called our colleague? I certainly won’t offer him the wizard’s courtesy…”

As Harvey and his entourage slowly approached, Lawrence heard Macaulay speak first, his voice tinged with a smile as he made the introduction, “This is Mr. Chuck Lawrence, the new branch director. Like us, he also comes from a background of research-type Spellcasters.”

Lawrence stepped forward and gave a slight bow and nod, his posture elegant. “Your Excellency, the City Lord, welcome to the Federation branch. Director Macaulay arrived ahead of us, so we latecomers have not yet had the chance to pay you a visit personally.”

Harvey grunted in acknowledgment, then turned to Macaulay and asked, “I hear the branch plans to reopen the two magic academies that were shut down?”

“It seems there is such a plan. Director Lawrence is personally in charge of this matter.”

“Excellent!” Harvey suddenly broke into a smile, his gaze burning as he looked at Lawrence. “I intend to merge the two magic academies in Goldshine City and incorporate them into the Academy of Sciences as subordinate institutions. In the future, magic apprentices who graduate with distinction and show outstanding talent can be promoted directly to the Academy of Sciences for further study!”

What? His words instantly caused a commotion among the members of the Federation branch.

Lawrence was also stunned for a moment. As he came to and processed the meaning behind the words, he secretly clenched his fists and couldn’t stop himself from stepping forward to object, “Your Excellency, the City Lord, you can’t possibly act so heavy-handedly! This is completely against regulations!”

Chapter: Taking a Day Off!

Taking a day off!

I’m taking a day off for New Year’s Day to go home and be with my family.

And I wish you all a Happy New Year!

Chapter 463: A Slap in the Face, One After Another (Part 2)

“Hmm?” Harvey narrowed his eyes, asking doubtfully, “Not in compliance?”

Lawrence immediately realized his wording and tone had been somewhat offensive to a lord with real power. He quickly explained, “Your Excellency is unfamiliar with the Federation’s internal statutes and operational procedures. According to regulations… in any city or region in the southern kingdoms where the Federation has a branch… graduating apprentices from the local magic academies are to be evaluated by us first, then assigned to other advanced magical institutions for further study based on the situation.”

This was an agreement negotiated between the Federation’s founders and the continent’s Wizard Council over a century ago when the Federation was officially established. Regardless of whether an apprentice came from a wizard family or was a commoner, they had the right to choose their own path. Compared to the traditional, conservative wizard families… the younger generation of spellcasters clearly preferred and respected the Federation more, which had become the key to the Federation’s ability to attract talent and rise quickly.

“This is a custom and tradition that has been in place for a hundred years.” Lawrence’s deputy couldn’t help but step forward, his tone slightly arrogant. “Your Excellency, the City Lord, is probably unaware that the majority of teachers and researchers at Goldshine City’s only two magic academies… are from the Federation. They have also received long-term funding from Araye, which has enabled them to successfully complete many valuable research experiments.”

In short, every magical talent is cultivated using vast amounts of money and precious magical materials. If someone from outside the Federation wanted to interfere, it’s likely that even the academies themselves wouldn’t agree.

Harvey chuckled lightly, not getting angry. Instead, he turned to Mr. Spellshield and asked, “If I recall correctly… Goldshine City’s two magic academies weren’t founded by the Federation, were they?”

Spellshield spread his hands and replied awkwardly, “The St. Valen Royal Magic Academy… was founded by the first Grand Duke’s Court Magic Advisor at the beginning of his reign. Historically, most of the spellcasters it produces choose to continue serving the Royal Court or the nobility.”

He paused, then continued, “As for the Goldshine City Public Magic Academy… it was established over a hundred years ago with funding from a renowned independent spellcaster, Master Theodoric. He was a native of Goldshine City, so it was only natural for him to strongly support the younger generation of his hometown after achieving fame and success.”

After the Rotting Plague broke out in the capital, the Church, along with the nobles, was the first to move against the two magic academies. Most of the apprentices were driven away and scattered, and many of the teachers and research mages were arrested. Some managed to flee to the neighboring country of Da’ers through the Federation’s channels.

Harvey nodded with understanding and looked at Lawrence. “In that case, the Federation and the soon-to-be-established Academy of Sciences should compete fairly for talent… There’s no such thing as a monopoly based on who was here first!”

Lawrence suppressed the anger in his heart and said dryly, “Your Excellency, forgive my frankness… but even in a fair competition, your Academy of Sciences cannot possibly win against the Federation. No matter where you recruit a group of independent spellcasters from, their abilities and qualifications can never surpass the orthodox mages from the Federation!”

“Dean Arturo, what do you think?” Harvey turned slightly to ask a masked figure standing behind him, who was wrapped in a hooded cloak and exceptionally tall.

Arturo bowed to Harvey, then stepped forward and threw back his hood, revealing a terrifying metal skull covered in fine inscriptions. His voice was laced with the harsh grinding of mechanical parts.

“My lord City Lord, the attitude of these colleagues from the Federation… is perhaps a bit too arrogant. Admittedly… when it comes to the fields of elemental and arcane energy, no one can currently match the Federation’s achievements.”

Arturo subconsciously raised a hand to stroke his beard, only to realize mid-air that his metal chin was as smooth as a mirror. He immediately switched to folding his arms and continued, “However, our Academy of Sciences does not intend to follow the traditional research paths of the past. The branch established in Goldshine City will not offer courses on elemental and arcane energy, so we will not be in direct competition with the Federation…”

The young deputy beside Lawrence couldn’t help but sneer, “Elemental and arcane energy are the two brightest jewels on the crown of magical truth. If you don’t offer courses on them, are you planning to specialize in illusion, shadow, astral, and force-field magic? Those obscure schools have inherent theoretical flaws, and many of their researchers struggle to even advance to a high rank.”

He wasn’t intimidated by this strange spellcaster with a bizarre metal head. Many schools of casting had low-rank spells for controlling puppets to some degree. This could only mean the man’s true self was hiding among the group, putting on a ridiculous, shameful display.

But Arturo shook his head. “It’s not any of the schools you mentioned. Our Academy of Sciences… focuses on necromancy as its primary field of research!”

As soon as he said this, everyone from the Federation showed looks of contempt.

Lawrence snorted coldly and turned to Harvey. “Your Excellency, the City Lord, as close partners, you shouldn’t mock and insult us like this. What can you possibly accomplish by hiring necromancers? Are you planning to turn Goldshine City into a defiled dead zone overrun with living corpses and plagues?”

Harvey didn’t speak. Two more figures stepped out from behind him and stood shoulder to shoulder with Arturo.

The fluctuations of death energy emanating from their bodies were clearly high-rank, blatantly announcing to the Federation members that they were, indeed, necromancers!

This time, even Spellshield found the situation awkward. He coughed and leaned close to Harvey’s ear. “This… this isn’t appropriate, is it?”

But Harvey remained silent, a smile on his face, with no intention of offering an explanation.

Arturo spoke in a deep voice, “The tradition of necromancers being obsessed with flesh magic and death energy is a thing of the past. We have now reforged the developmental path of our school of casting and possess a brand-new way to research and advance!”

Lawrence was stunned for a long moment, unable to process it. Had this vile necromancer’s brain been chewed on by a living corpse? Reforge a school of casting? A brand-new path to advancement? With just these two or three necromancers who looked weaker than orthodox high-rank spellcasters, they dared to boast of having pioneered a whole new school of casting?

His deputy actually laughed out of anger. He walked up to Arturo and the other two and said coldly, “You arrogant fools! This so-called ‘new school of casting’ of yours is probably just another insane experiment derived from flesh magic… Since you keep making such claims, why don’t you prove it to us!”

Arturo turned to Harvey, who was watching from the sidelines, and received clear permission from his eyes. He then turned back and completely threw off his long, black dean’s robe, revealing an alchemical body that gleamed with magical inscriptions and a metallic luster, its form exuding a strong sense of mechanical aesthetics.

He gently raised his arm, and a searing white spark of electricity flashed into existence with a snap, dancing wildly at his metal fingertips. Six flexible mechanical tentacles unfurled from Arturo’s back, their sharp tips stabbing violently into the ground and lifting his heavy frame. Combined with the magical inscriptions that lit up all over his cybernetic body, he looked mysterious, bizarre, and incredibly intimidating.

“Young Mr., how would you like me to prove it? Through a Truth Debate? Or would you prefer a direct Spell Duel?”

The moment Arturo’s threatening words left his lips, a howl of unimaginable excitement erupted from the Federation’s group.

“By the Miracles! It’s not an ordinary mage puppet… It’s soul forging! It’s a true Man-made God!”

A middle-aged man, clearly wearing the standard robes of the Alchemical Exploration Society, stumbled out of the crowd. Tears streamed down his face as he threw himself at Arturo’s feet, his trembling hands stroking the thick mechanical lower limbs, completely heedless of anything else.

“It… it’s alive! It’s not a controlled puppet! This is Life Alchemy!”

Chapter 464: Soul Spellcasting

Lawrence’s heart sank. He demanded in a low voice, “What soul forging? Nelson, what madness are you spouting now?”

The Esoteric Society and the Federation had always been considered a single entity, sharing honor and disgrace. He naturally couldn’t stand by and watch a fellow Alchemist behave so disgracefully in front of outsiders, so he quickly ordered the Spellcasters under his command to go and help the man up.

But the frantic man who had thrown himself at Arturo’s feet shook his head wildly, muttering incessantly, “It’s alive! It’s alive!”

The Spellshield looked on with pity and took the initiative to persuade Harvey in a quiet voice, “My friend, perhaps you should stop your Necromancer from toying with this poor fellow. These Alchemists spend all their days obsessed with that Man-made God project, and most of them are a bit…”

Lawrence also suppressed his anger. “Your Excellency, the City Lord, please order that Necromancer hiding in the shadows to stop! Cease this disrespectful mockery!”

Harvey shrugged, spreading his hands with an innocent look. “Mockery? Dean Arturo himself hasn’t even complained about this gentleman’s impolite act of clinging to his leg…”

He turned to the Spellshield and winked teasingly. “My friend, surely you don’t think a magical puppet controlled by a Spellcaster can cast spells on its own, do you?”

“Of course not… How could a lifeless magical puppet… cast—” The Spellshield shook his head instinctively, but his words trailed off. He froze, his body jolting. “Wait! It… it just…”

Nelson, still weeping on the ground, looked up and finished the thought, “How could a puppet cast a spell? It’s not a magical puppet at all! It’s an Alchemical construct with a soul and intelligence!”

The crowd immediately erupted.

“No one is controlling this puppet?”

“It… it contains a complete human soul?”

“No! How is that possible? How was it done!”

“Souls cannot be divided or transferred… This is an iron law of alchemy concerning the creation of life. Why…”

“Your Excellency, the City Lord! I humbly request an explanation!”

“And I! Respected Lord City Lord… I swear by the truth, I only ask that you allow me a glimpse into the path of this supreme mystery!”

The Spellshield stood frozen on the spot, astonished to find that the tense, adversarial atmosphere from moments ago was rapidly changing. The Esoteric Society Alchemists mixed in with the Federation members surged forward, scrambling to surround Harvey and Arturo. Their expressions and tones were filled with immense fervor and humility, as if the ones standing before them were the supreme Chiefs of the Esoteric Society.

“This is preposterous!” Lawrence suddenly shouted, cutting them off. “We are supposed to be discussing the so-called new faction they speak of! Even if they produce a puppet shell involving the creation of life, it only proves that they have some skill in alchemy. It is nowhere near enough to constitute an entirely new path of spellcasting!”

Arturo, surrounded by the Alchemists, let out a soft “Oh?” He leaned down, gently helped Nelson—who was still clinging to his leg—to his feet, and then pointed at the young Deputy closest to him. “Words are empty. Why don’t this gentleman and I demonstrate with a simulated casting in place of a Spell Duel?”

The young Deputy had long since reached his limit. Before Arturo had even finished speaking, he raised his hand and instantly cast a wind blade at him, roaring in uncontrollable anger, “You despicable Necromancer! Once I shatter this fraudulent puppet of yours, we’ll see your true self cowering in some dark corner!”

A common, third-circle wind blade came hurtling with menacing speed, but Arturo didn’t move an inch. He neither dodged nor evaded, taking the hit squarely with his alchemical body. The metal shell, enhanced with enchantments and inscribed with internal protective arrays, was basically immune to common spells below the fifth circle.

But he was just as fed up as the Federation Mages. Since they had been rude first, it was only natural to return the favor. This alchemical body contained a simplified version of the “Magnetic Storm Field” spell, which Harvey had inscribed in advance. As long as the mana supply was sufficient, he too could cast instantly, no worse than any other Spellcaster.

A shrinking ring, like a silver half-moon, shot out from Arturo’s hand. Spinning, it flew straight ahead and shattered the two defensive spells the young Deputy had hastily conjured, striking him squarely in the chest, which was now completely unprotected.

A silvery-white electric light burst forth. Tiny, worm-like sparks writhed and danced across the man’s body. The young Spellcaster’s body convulsed violently, his spine went rigid, and he fell backward like a board… Over his heart and head, the remnants of an Arcane Energy defensive spell flickered faintly before vanishing.

He had been knocked out cold.

Harvey glanced at the Spellshield with an amused look and muttered, “You worried for nothing. Dean Arturo isn’t as reckless as these young people.”

The Spellshield coughed awkwardly and patted Harvey’s shoulder, turning his head away in shame.

Normally, a simulated casting was meant for each side to demonstrate the power and characteristics of their spells; you weren’t supposed to aim every attack at your opponent. For the young Deputy to launch a surprise attack without any warning or preamble… even if the opponent had retaliated instantly and killed him on the spot, it would have been justifiable. The Federation would have had no grounds to investigate the severity of the counterattack afterward. It would have been a life thrown away for nothing.

Nelson, who had been standing by Arturo’s side the whole time, had a sharp eye. He cried out in astonishment, “A modified spell! No! An original spell! I’ve read a description of it in a research paper from the gazette. This is… this is Harvey’s Magnetic Storm Field!”

Arturo took the long robe Proulx handed him and draped it back over his shoulders. He turned and bowed slightly to Harvey, then said with a proud tone, “Correct. It is indeed the seventh-circle spell created solely by the Lord City Lord that I have been studying—Harvey’s Magnetic Storm Field!”

Lawrence, refusing to give up, pressed, “Electromagnetic magic… Electromagnetic magic is indeed a new field of spellcasting, but it’s still derived from elemental and force-field casting. You’ve merely replicated the City Lord’s techniques. How does that qualify as an entirely new path of spellcasting?”

Arturo shook his head in disdain. “You know next to nothing about souls and mana themselves…”

He let out a derisive laugh, the soul fire in his eyes coalescing as he slowly scanned the crowd. “The elements are complex, Arcane Energy is chaotic… Do you all believe that the formless energy from the Magic Net is ever-changing and incomprehensible? That glimpsing a mere sliver of its pattern is enough to fill one with glee?”

Lawrence retorted indignantly, “What then? Do you think the source of mana is the handle on your front door? That a gentle twist can open the gates to ultimate truth?”

“Hehehe…” Arturo and Harvey couldn’t help but chuckle at the same time. Xilisi and Proulx also let out snorts of laughter, followed by a low, suppressed hum of amusement from the young Necromancers behind them.

“And to think you are also called a research-type Spellcaster…” Arturo’s tone turned serious, his gaze burning as he stared at the other man. “Of course, I wouldn’t dare claim to have touched the ultimate truth.”

“But—we have already peeked through the keyhole of that door and glimpsed the edge of the ultimate! And soon, we will grasp the very key of truth that opens it!”

“Gentlemen, this is our new path of research—soul spellcasting!”

“What you see before you… the magical energy rifles held by common soldiers, the long-range magical cannons that can contend with high-level casters… hehe, and the Gun of Annihilation sent to reinforce your Federation against the Demons, the Airships that can soar freely in the sky without relying on high-rank spells… They are all the product of fusing soul spellcasting with the secret arts of alchemy!”

“By using the energy of the soul to draw a continuous stream of pure magical energy from the Magic Net, so long as the soul is indestructible… it will possess the ability to transform it into any spell imaginable. Arcane Energy and the elements will no longer be chaotic, complex, and incomprehensible. All energy drawn from the Magic Net becomes orderly and controllable, and the path to ultimate truth becomes straight and clear!”

Chapter 465: The Temptation of Mechanical Ascension

“Soul spellcasting…” Spellshield frowned slightly, murmuring thoughtfully, “Among the many schools of casting, it’s true that none other than Necromancy has delved deeply into this area… After all, it touches upon the ethereal domain of creation.”

But in recent years, the Alchemical Exploration Society had met with frequent setbacks in their life creation experiments and had long since secretly shifted their focus to the forbidden domain of the soul, attempting to create alchemical constructs with intelligence and consciousness… but their progress, it seemed, was not ideal.

But this Dean Arturo standing beside City Lord Harvey was clearly a successful subject of some forbidden experiment, one who had transferred his entire human soul into an alchemical body. This was a blatant declaration to everyone present—the domain of the soul, once considered a forbidden zone for magical research, had now completely opened its doors to Spellcasters.

“So… so you voluntarily transferred your soul into an alchemical body?” a decidedly elderly, mid-rank Alchemist asked, his voice trembling. “Does this mean that as long as the energy from the Magic Net flows unceasingly… your soul has also gained the quality of immortality?”

A hush fell over the crowd. While this forbidden experiment was somewhat chilling, it was also an unconventional path to eternal life, a prospect that truly made one’s heart race.

Arturo had already discussed this privately with Harvey before coming, so he naturally knew what secrets of his school of casting to reveal and what to keep hidden. “Soul forging experiments do indeed require the test subject to voluntarily accept the transfer… but this does not mean one gains ‘immortality’ in the truest sense. Everyone… our souls have merely been moved to a sturdier, more durable ‘container.’ How could you possibly dare to aspire to the divine state of indestructibility and immortality?”

Hearing this, many of the Alchemists were startled, feeling ashamed of their unrealistic fantasies.

The old Alchemist, however, shook his head. “No… the ‘container’ is of utmost importance to an Alchemist! Think about it… no need for food or rest, undisturbed by illness, as long as our soul energy remains full… we can work without sleep on countless time-consuming and laborious research experiments. This extra time… isn’t that an extension of life in itself?”

Harvey looked at the old Alchemist with some amusement. He hadn’t expected to hear the philosophical sentiment of “time is life” in his words, but the man had directly pointed out the clear advantages of being an alchemical lifeform.

Lawrence, not giving up, said directly, “So you want all Spellcasters who join your school of casting to abandon their bodies of flesh and blood and become these… alchemical mechanical monsters?”

He paused, then shouted to the excited Alchemists in the crowd, “Everyone, to abandon the flesh-and-blood body you were born with is to abandon the natural spellcasting talent inherent in being human! An alchemical body has no channels for mana to flow. You will forever lose your magical runes and no longer have the opportunity to create original spells and advance to Legendary-rank!”

This was no mere alarmism. An alchemical lifeform that had undergone a soul transfer would indeed lose their magical runes, and with them, the many spells they had painstakingly constructed and analyzed. Of course, they would also lose the chance to create original spells… At most, they could be like Arturo, having Harvey embed single-cast spells into their Soul Core beforehand, which they could then activate and release using their own reserves of pure magical energy.

In essence, it was no different from loading bullets into a Magical Energy Gun, except Arturo’s “ammunition capacity” for high-circle spells was less than five shots…

A brand-new school of casting, a research path with no predecessors to verify it… In other words, nobody even knew if this path truly offered an opportunity to advance to the Legendary-rank. The unknown is always accompanied by confusion and fear. Hearing Lawrence’s earnest admonition, the initial fervent excitement of many in the crowd cooled considerably.

But the old Alchemist shook his head and laughed heartily. “The young naturally have many concerns, but for an old man like me who doesn’t have much time left, if there’s a chance to gain a new lease on life… that would be like a gift from the gods!”

As he spoke, he lowered his head, and under everyone’s gaze, his right eyeball popped out and fell into his palm. Holding the lifelike false eye, he said with a wry smile, “After years of researching magic potions… my eyes were long ago blinded by the toxic fumes from brewing magical plants. Last year, I begged a branch Chief to replace them with a pair of a Crystalline Demon Lizard’s eyes… Heh, but they lasted less than half a year, and now my vision is fading again…”

His words caused many Alchemists present to sigh with emotion. Many research-type Spellcasters who had also spent years conducting experiments felt a deep empathy. After all, magical and alchemical experiments were about seeking a thread of law and order amidst chaos and disorder. Most of the time, the danger of these experiments was no less than that of a battlefield against the Demons; Spellcasters who died on the spot due to lab accidents were numerous… As for those who were severely injured and survived with disabilities, unless their organization had vast resources and could provide them with high-rank or even Legendary-rank nature-based healing spells to regenerate their flesh and blood, their path in magical research would be forever closed.

The old Alchemist slowly walked up to Harvey and Arturo, crossed his hands over his chest, and bowed—this was the standard salute a subordinate Alchemist would offer to the Supreme Chief in ancient times.

“My lord City Lord, I wonder if I might have the honor of joining the Academy of Sciences that is soon to be established in Goldshine City?”

The other Alchemists came forward one after another, paying their deep respects to Harvey and Arturo.

“My lord City Lord, I am willing to join the Academy of Sciences and undergo the soul transformation experiment. What is the price I must pay?”

“Dean Arturo, are you still accepting disciples? I am willing to study Necromancy and call myself a Necromancer!”

“Dean Arturo, is the Academy of Sciences considering recruiting fire-type spellcasting Alchemists? I can start as an apprentice!”

Xilisi and Proulx stood shoulder to shoulder behind Arturo, watching the Alchemists and Spellcasters gather around. They were all eagerly talking with the Necromancers who had accompanied Harvey, showing none of their former disdain or contempt. The two couldn’t help but exchange a look, seeing the suppressed excitement and emotion in each other’s eyes.

Arturo walked over to Harvey, leaned in to speak with him quietly for a moment, then returned to the crowd and raised a hand to quiet the noisy discussion. “Everyone, everyone… please listen to me. The Goldshine City Academy of Sciences is still in its preparatory stages, and we are currently only recruiting at the apprentice-rank. If you truly wish to discuss and study the school of soul spellcasting, you would be better off following me to the Northern Realm… At the main Research Academy of Magical Science in Starfire City, you will even have the opportunity to hear our lord City Lord lecture personally!”

He paused before continuing, “Moreover, the soul transfer experiment is not a simple project. The difficulty of the experiment and the cost of the precious materials involved prevent it from being widely available… It’s not something that can be done just because you volunteer. I have just consulted with our lord City Lord. As long as you choose to join our Academy of Sciences, the problem of missing limbs, at least, can be easily resolved—our mastery of the Soul-stitching technique allows us to perform alchemical prosthetic transplant surgeries perfectly!”

Go to the Northern Realm and join the main Research Academy of Magical Science?

Lawrence stole a glance at City Lord Harvey, who stood to the side smiling silently, and finally realized his true intention—he wasn’t trying to fight for influence with the Federation’s branch in Goldshine City at all… He was trying to poach people directly from the Federation!

He looked with some confusion at McCaulin, the director of the Department of Affairs, who was standing right beside Harvey. He was surprised to see that, even in this situation, the man had absolutely no intention of stepping in to salvage things. In fact, he was still chatting and laughing cheerfully with the Lord of the Northern Realm…

What a traitor! Lawrence cursed inwardly. He prepared to immediately record everything that had happened today and send it directly to Araye via a magical messenger.

At the very least, the Magical Review Council at headquarters would not sit by and do nothing about this.

Chapter 466: Before the Return Journey

According to the original plan, Arturo would return to the Northern Realm with Harvey, leaving Xilisi and Proulx behind. The two would lead a portion of the Necromancers to prepare for the establishment of the Goldshine City branch of the Academy of Sciences. This would be their first outpost outside their home territory for recruiting young apprentices and building up a talent pool, so naturally, there was no room for carelessness.

“Mr. Arturo, you’re much more restrained than I expected,” Harvey jested. “I thought that after being discriminated against and despised for so long, the Necromancers wouldn’t be too keen on giving these opportunistic orthodox Spellcasters a warm welcome either.”

Arturo sighed and bowed. “My lord City Lord, your attitude is our standard for action… As long as we can recruit more Spellcasting and Alchemical talent for the Northern Realm, there’s no need for us to get into a conflict born of pride. Besides, the Academy of Sciences has benefited greatly from your radiance this time. Not only have we made a name for ourselves, but we can also openly recruit apprentices in the capital…”

A group of “reformed” Necromancers openly establishing a branch of their organization in the capital of a secular kingdom and recruiting apprentices on a large scale… This was something unimaginable at any point in the past.

Harvey nodded and instructed, “But there’s no need to be overly deferential just to attract talent… You must always understand that our faction is the cornerstone of the Academy of Sciences’ existence, and its sole leading force.”

“Yes, I understand,” Arturo replied with a bow.

As the two were chatting idly, Pierce hurried into the flagship’s captain’s cabin and reported to Harvey, “My lord, many rumors have suddenly sprung up in the city since yesterday… Several pregnant women are claiming to be the late Grand Duke of St. Valen’s lovers, carrying his posthumous children in their wombs, and that these children are the last remaining bloodline of the St. Valen family…”

“Oh?” Harvey raised an eyebrow. “It seems some of the nobles who escaped my grasp haven’t completely given up hope…”

Their methods weren’t entirely stupid, though. At least they knew to find a few pregnant women to spread these rumors. If they had used living, breathing illegitimate children, Harvey’s Alchemists had plenty of ways to perform a magical “paternity test” on them.

Pierce’s expression turned grim. He asked Harvey in a low voice, “My lord, the secret police are currently investigating the source of these rumors… but I feel that the nobles you previously pardoned are more or less involved. Why don’t we just… all of them…”

Harvey waved his hand. “There’s no need to be so extreme. Dickinson just took our soldiers to the border to persuade the domestic feudal lords to surrender. If we start slaughtering nobles in the capital now, we’ll just force those lords to rebel against me.”

What’s the use of producing a few of the Grand Duke of St. Valen’s posthumous children? Right now, no one would dare claim that these children, still in their mothers’ wombs, have a legal right to inherit the Duchy. That would be tantamount to openly challenging Harvey—a completely suicidal move.

Arturo, who had been silent, suddenly made a dark joke. “Fortunately, the rumors they fabricated are pinned on a dead Grand Duke. If a few of My lord City Lord’s illegitimate children were to suddenly appear, the situation would be much harder to handle…”

Harvey couldn’t help but spit out the hot tea he had just sipped. Eager to defend his master’s dignity, Pierce quickly said, “Mr. Arturo, watch your words! How would those despicable nobles dare to spread rumors about the private life of a high-level Spellcaster!”

Arturo calmly straightened the hem of his robe and let out a cackle. “My lord City Lord instructed me to tell more jokes in my daily life. It helps to slow the loss of my humanity and emotions…”

After Arturo took his leave, Harvey had Pierce stay behind and ordered, “Inform the secret police in the city that there’s no need to make a big fuss about the rumors. Besides, any overly obvious targeted action… will only make the populace suspicious and think we’re trying to hide some truth.”

Pierce was stunned. “So we just let them be so blatant? Everyone knows by now that the Grand Duke of St. Valen is dead and his regime has fallen. Although he hasn’t officially abdicated, you are the de facto ruler of the capital!”

Harvey smiled. “Think about their goal… It’s just the useless struggle of rats in a sewer. Besides… a much more shocking piece of news will soon spread among the populace, capturing everyone’s attention… By then, no one will be mourning the dead former Grand Duke anymore.”

“What shocking news? I haven’t heard a thing,” Pierce asked, confused.

Harvey waved his hand, led him over to the desk, and pointed at an administrative document that had just arrived from Starfire City. It was still awaiting Harvey’s final approval.

[Goldshine City will be stripped of its title as the capital of St. Valen, and its future administrative level will be equal to that of Fengyuan City.]

[The Duchy of St. Valen will be renamed the United Kingdom of the Northern Realm, with Starfire City as the kingdom’s new capital.]

[City Lord Harvey will soon return to the Northern Realm to officially hold his coronation ceremony… completely abandoning the longstanding tradition of southern kingdoms’ royalty being crowned by the Pope of the Holy City.]

Pierce dazedly read the contents of the document transmitted through the Magic Brain device. A moment later, it sank in. A mix of shock and joy on his face, he exclaimed, “My lord, you’ve finally decided to…”

Harvey nodded. “There’s more. I plan to relocate a portion of Goldshine City’s population to the Northern Realm, keeping the population of the former capital equal to that of Fengyuan City. This will prevent a developmental gap from emerging between the two cities due to unequal resources.”

Administration had always been Pierce’s weak point, but he could clearly see that Harvey was deliberately teaching him, so he patiently listened intently. “But the residents of the capital are used to a prosperous life, and you plan to honor your promise of tax reductions. To get them to move from the warm central region of the south to the bitterly cold barren lands… I’m afraid it will be impossible without resorting to force.”

“I have no intention of moving those rich nobles,” Harvey said with a smile. “Starfire City will only ever open its gates to people who create wealth through their labor. Once my land reclamation policy is implemented, these nobles, who live off the labor of others, will soon taste the bitterness of shrinking fortunes and a fall in social status.”

Harvey intended to use generous incentives to recruit as much of the labor force tied to the nobles’ lands as possible to the Northern Realm. When these nobles found their vast lands lying fallow, he would then import large quantities of high-yield grain from the north to stabilize local food prices, preventing wealthy merchants from hoarding goods and causing a widespread famine. This process would inevitably cause the nobles’ income from land rent to plummet… At which point, Harvey would then launch his land reclamation initiative, ruthlessly driving down the prices.

Although this method would be time-consuming and relatively complex, compared to violently confiscating the nobles’ property, it would earn Harvey a much better reputation. For the feudal lords within the Duchy of St. Valen who had not yet submitted, it also sent a signal that they didn’t need to fight to the death.

After listening to the lengthy explanation, Pierce thought for a moment and muttered under his breath, “Is it really that complicated? If we just chopped all their heads off, wouldn’t the land naturally be ours…?”

Chapter 467: Excessive Conscription

After completely seizing control of Goldshine City, the Northern Army that had accompanied Harvey on the expedition to the capital soon saw a change of guard.

A brand new battalion unit, composed of a mix of veteran and new soldiers, would take their place, fulfilling the capital garrison duty for the entire next year. The composition of this thousand-man battalion was extremely diverse, with soldiers hailing from the barren lands, Grizzly Bear Territory, Fengyuan City… and even naturalized refugees from the southern part of the duchy. It was what could be called a truly integrated defense force.

The Northern Army soldiers who were replaced were not to return to Starfire City immediately. According to the southern campaign plan formulated by Harvey, Black Mountain Port, south of Three-Forks Town, and Silverpine City, which had been ravaged by troops sent by certain lords from the neighboring Barkley Duchy, were the next important targets to be captured.

Black Mountain Port was the last major port on the Ralph River within the Duchy of St. Valen as it flowed south. Taking it would directly open a convenient route to Faros, the “Land of a Thousand Sails,” and would also provide Harvey with the only valuable seaport in the entire territory.

Silverpine City was relatively close to the Barkley Duchy and the wizard kingdom of Da’ers. After the conflict between the two nations broke out, it was swept over by several forces led by neighboring nobles seeking to plunder amidst the chaos. A large number of refugees and serfs flocked towards Black Mountain Port and the capital, and Harvey had sent men to take advantage of the situation, receiving many of them and sending them to the Northern Realm.

Both cities were renowned for their open commerce and completely lacked sturdy city walls for defense. They were by no means difficult targets to attack or easy to defend. Harvey ordered Pierce to remain in Goldshine City and handed command directly to him. His three battalions were each assigned a campaign mission: the Third Battalion, commanded by Wayne, would coordinate with the former Chief Knight, Dickinson, to travel to the border and persuade the feudal lords to surrender; the First Battalion, led by Vaughn, would head downstream straight for Black Mountain Port; and Dav would command the infantry and light cavalry of the Second Battalion on a swift assault on Silverpine City, to directly sweep away the neighboring nobles who were still lingering near the town, plundering wantonly.

Having just conquered the capital, Goldshine City, the morale of the entire expeditionary army was extremely high. For this commoner army, built on the model of a modern military, the professional soldiers had no worries to hold them back. After all, ordinary feudal lords and landed knights would never abandon their fields during spring planting and autumn harvest to rashly start a war… A year-round, long-distance campaign like the Northern Army’s was simply unthinkable for any noble army in the southern kingdoms.

With a nascent General Staff Headquarters that could already function and Political Instructors deeply integrated into the army’s grassroots, this force no longer needed the lord to personally lead it in battle. It could faithfully and swiftly execute combat missions. Coupled with its overwhelmingly superior firepower, Harvey had almost no concerns about the outcome of the battles.

Compared to the almost certain victory in combat… what Harvey was more worried and focused on was how to completely overthrow the old noble system and establish a new order for the Northern Realm after gaining complete control over the entire Duchy of St. Valen.

The Duchy of St. Valen, located in the north-central part of the southern continent, had only three cities with a population exceeding ten thousand. The first, of course, was the capital, Goldshine City, with nearly thirty thousand people. The second was Fengyuan City, situated on the fertile plains, with a population of over ten thousand. Finally, Grizzly Keep, located in the northern border region near the Spine of the Continent Mountains, also had a population of nearly ten thousand.

All three of these cities were now under Harvey’s de facto control, and it was imperative to establish fully-functional municipal administrations within them. Starfire City’s General Municipal Office had been continuously recruiting and training grassroots administrative personnel. By also selecting some local minor nobles who had previously been involved in municipal administration from each city, they could quickly get things on the right track and integrate these cities into the Northern Realm’s new system.

But these cities were also where the old nobility was most entrenched. A military garrison was essential, on one hand, to guard against the Church making a comeback from the outside, and on the other, to secretly watch for the resurgence of certain noble factions from within.

“Just garrisoning the three major cities is already straining our forces,” Pierce said, having repeatedly expressed his anxiety to Harvey with suggestions. “A garrison of one thousand for Goldshine City, Fengyuan City needs nearly a thousand as well. Strategic locations like Three-Forks Town, Black Mountain Port, and Silverpine City need at least a five-hundred-man battalion each. Although Grizzly Bear Territory is closest to Starfire City, a garrison of a thousand is also indispensable, not to mention the five-hundred-man garrison at the ice sea exploration base…”

Rare for Pierce, who was usually not one for splitting hairs, he counted on his fingers as he laid out the figures for Harvey. “My lord! Garrison duty alone takes up nearly half our total forces! And we can’t relax the defense of Starfire City; the three thousand-strong Defense Force can’t be touched under any circumstances! That means… we only have less than two thousand troops we can freely deploy, and that’s counting the two one-hundred-man artillery battalions, which have poor mobility.”

Harvey had actually done the math long before Pierce, and he couldn’t help but sigh. “After the two rounds of military expansion late last winter and early this year, we barely managed to increase our troop numbers to nearly ten thousand. At least forty percent of these soldiers are new recruits with less than six months of service. It’s already gotten to the point of pushing them into tasks they are unprepared for.”

“How were the results of the third round of conscription announced last month?”

“We already went through two rounds of conscription late last year and early this year, so the third round’s effect was not significant. We only recruited less than two thousand reserve soldiers…” Pierce answered very honestly. “Because the expanded recruitment lowered the standards somewhat, these new recruits are a far cry from our regular forces… Even with another two or three months of training, they would only just meet the quality standard for the Defense Force.”

The meaning was clear: the quality of the soldiers from this last round of conscription was a cause for concern. Even if they became permanent soldiers, they could only be assigned to defense units, not used as combat troops for offensive operations.

Harvey covered his face, feeling a bit helpless. He remembered back when the pioneer territories were forming their first militia to fend off the vile orc invasion. Under his direction, Pierce’s standards for selecting refugees from the barren lands were about the same as for picking livestock—healthy limbs, good teeth, good hearing, and good eyesight were all it took. They trained for just over a month before they had to bite the bullet, take up their weapons, and fight the vile orcs.

Now, as his power grew faster, the scale of his army expanded rapidly, and correspondingly, the standards for recruitment were raised. In fact, in Harvey’s estimation, as long as a commoner of this era received a basic literacy education, could distinguish left from right, understand combat commands, and didn’t flee in terror on the battlefield, he was already a qualified soldier. As for combat skills… simple things like aiming at the enemy and pulling the trigger could be mastered by almost anyone. As long as enough ammunition was expended in live-fire training, anyone could be trained into a sharpshooter who never missed a shot. It was just a matter of time.

“Overly frequent recruitment will exacerbate the labor shortage in other production sectors. Have the Military Command’s Recruitment Office suspend recruitment for now…” Harvey patted Pierce’s shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry too much. Once we have complete control over the entire Duchy of St. Valen, refugee recruitment from all over will reach a new peak. By then, Starfire City will have plenty of people for us to expand the army with.”

If everything went smoothly, Harvey hoped to completely end the wartime chaos within the duchy before the arrival of winter this year.

Chapter 468: A New Knightly Spirit

After a full day’s march, the Northern Army found a place to make camp near a water source just before dusk.

Dickinson sat stiffly by the large bonfire, watching the soldiers go about their business in an orderly fashion.

The young officer named Wayne came over, handed him a heavy metal box, and said politely, “Mr. Knight, supplies are scarce on campaign. Please make do with these emergency rations.”

The Chief Knight took the box, stunned. When he touched it, he realized it wasn’t made of ordinary tin but was forged from refined steel pressed into thin sheets… Such precious steel wasn’t used for knightly armor and weapons, yet these soldiers used it for food containers?

The rations for these commoner soldiers on campaign were usually nothing more than hard bran cakes or salted meat, not even worth a thousandth of the value of this container. It was a bizarre, backward practice.

But when he opened the steel container and saw the steaming, hearty meal inside, he fell silent. It was a simple meal of a main course and side dishes: two grilled pork chops with thick rinds of fat, half a pan-fried fish that was slightly dry but still golden, and some kind of easily preserved root vegetable that had been fried in honey. There were also slices of bread, also a bit dry but clearly baked from fine flour… In a small corner of the container were a few milky-white cubes. Dickinson curiously picked up a tiny piece and put it in his mouth. It was malt candy with a milky flavor.

He couldn’t help but swallow secretly, then immediately felt ashamed of this act, which violated the knightly spirit of self-discipline.

He subconsciously looked up, but Wayne, the battalion commander who had brought him the food, had already walked off, seemingly paying him no mind at all.

However, Ivan, another young officer who had been friendly to him throughout the journey, sat down beside him with a smiling face, holding a container of the same material. Dickinson remembered his peculiar position: something called a “Political Instructor.”

“Commander Ivan, if I may be blunt… there is no need to provide such a hearty meal for a prisoner like me.”

Ivan smiled. “It’s just standard rations. How hearty can it be? Everyone eats the same thing; you’re not being treated any differently…”

Dickinson’s mouth fell open in astonishment. He pointed at the container in his hands and said haltingly, “This… this is your standard ration? All the soldiers eat this?”

Ivan seemed to misunderstand him and explained with some pride, “What? Surprised by our food preservation technology? It’s no military secret, I can tell you about it… The food you’re seeing now was all sealed in tin cans and transported from the Northern Realm to the front lines. But it tastes as fresh as if it were just bought from the market yesterday. Amazing, isn’t it?”

Though it was a slight exaggeration, Dickinson had to admit that these so-called “canned military rations” were a hundred times more delicious than bran cakes and salted meat. He was equally astonished that they would spare no expense just to ensure their soldiers ate food that was as fresh and tasty as possible.

He thought he was beginning to understand why this army, composed entirely of refugees from the barren lands and commoners from the south, dared to face the Pope’s Army of Judgment head-on and not lose ground in battle.

Their discipline was strict, their conduct rigorous… The way they followed orders and observed prohibitions left him dumbfounded. After two consecutive days of marching, Dickinson hadn’t seen a single soldier leave the ranks to wantonly pillage and extort the villages and towns they passed.

These northerners seemed completely uninterested in money or women. They just constantly sent out scouts and sentinels to climb high points along the route and mark up their maps. At night, after making camp, the officers would gather in their tents for animated discussions. It seemed only matters related to battle could excite them.

Seeing him fall silent while holding his food container, Ivan struck up a conversation. “Your Excellency, why do you always refer to yourself as a prisoner in our presence? Even My lord City Lord doesn’t see you as one. There’s no need for it…”

Dickinson immediately recalled his recent meeting with the King of the North, and his heart warmed slightly.

“My Lord City Lord has praised you in public more than once, saying you are truly worthy of the title of Chief Knight, a rare breath of fresh air among the capital’s elite…” Ivan said with a smile, using Harvey’s words to subtly flatter the knight.

After all, he was one of the key targets that the General Staff Headquarters and the intelligence system, after observation and evaluation, believed could be “turned and recruited.”

Dickinson shook his head slightly, not showing any arrogance at the praise. “My lord City Lord is merely overpraising me. As Chief Knight, not only did I fail to protect the Grand Duke… His Majesty, whom I swore to serve until death, but I… I surrendered to you without even fighting to the death for him.”

Ivan tilted his head, showing no trace of contempt. He insisted, “You only did so to prevent a battle from breaking out in the city and harming innocent civilians, didn’t you? A knight who pledges fealty to a noble is nothing special in my eyes… but a knight who fights for the innocent commoners and the weak is one who truly lives up to that honorable title, wouldn’t you say?”

Dickinson never thought he would one day hear a common young officer lecture him on the true meaning of “knightly spirit.” He found it somewhat amusing but couldn’t help but mock himself inwardly.

Even a low-ranking soldier of commoner birth understood the most important knightly virtues of “compassion” and “justice” so profoundly… Meanwhile, the nobles in the capital, who enjoyed hereditary glory and honorable knightly titles, paid no heed to the code of chivalry at all.

…

After the meal, as usual, there was a short period for a walk. Dickinson knew his current status was sensitive and that he couldn’t wander freely around the already small camp. Fortunately, Ivan, the non-combat officer, accompanied him, sparing him the awkwardness of being questioned.

Since setting out for the border with this army, he had been astounded by the level of education among the soldiers and junior officers—they had a basic education in reading and writing, just like ordinary nobles!

As he grew more familiar with them, some officers even began approaching him during marches or at night in camp to ask for advice on military tactics and strategy… It truly made the Chief Knight’s jaw drop.

This army was simply too strange. It was one thing for everyone to be literate, but for junior officers leading just a few dozen men to be studying military tactics and strategy… At first, they only came to him with simple questions, like how to choose a campsite on the march. Later, the questions evolved into complex problems about tactical deployments and troop commitments in clashes between infantry and cavalry.

It was only the third day, but Dickinson was already finding it difficult to keep up.

His past experience leading the Capital’s Knightly Order in campaigns with His Majesty the Grand Duke had always been a source of pride… Now, even a low-ranking officer in the Northern Army could ask him a tactical question that stumped him, which he found rather embarrassing.

No! To uphold his honor as the commander of the Knightly Order, he had to put aside his personal prejudices…

Dickinson turned his head and took the initiative to ask, “Do you non-combat officers… also learn to command troops in battle?”

“Of course!” Ivan raised an eyebrow. “The Political Instructor position only lasts for a year. After that, I’ll be transferred back to the General Staff Headquarters to serve as an operations staff officer. Like all staff officers, I’ll be responsible for formulating the army’s operational plans and carrying out the tasks and orders issued by My lord City Lord.”

“Could… you tell me how you formulate your operational plans?” Dickinson asked hesitantly after a long silence.

Ivan, however, smiled. “As long as we don’t discuss any specific combat missions, it won’t violate confidentiality principles. You must be interested in our unique methods of warfare and use of weapons, right?”

He paused, then winked suggestively. “I’m still new, so I don’t know much… But if you were to join the General Staff, you’d likely gain a much more thorough understanding. It would completely upend every method of combat command you ever learned as a noble knight!”

Chapter 469: A New Journey

Harvey’s last day in Goldshine City was also the day the City Hall held its public trial and execution of the capital’s powerful nobles who had committed heinous crimes.

The newly formed City Hall thus took its first step in officially taking control of Goldshine City, wielding a bloody butcher’s knife.

The location for the public sentencing and execution was the square in front of the collapsed Cathedral of Splendor. The ruins were one of the few sites Harvey had ordered not to be rebuilt or repaired—after all, from this day forward, the Church’s influence would be completely purged from the capital. While private worship was not strictly forbidden, Priests and missionaries would no longer be permitted to set foot here.

The public executions began at dawn. Crowds of people who had heard the news beforehand packed the cathedral square. Every time a new group of shackled nobles was brought out, soldiers of the Northern Army on Magic Motorcycles would ride through the streets and alleys, carrying alchemical amplifiers to loudly proclaim the crimes of the accused.

The specific crimes were all quite similar. Most of the powerful figures facing execution were being punished for multiple offenses. The public trial was largely a formality, a way to publicize Harvey’s purge of the capital’s old guard and his intent to implement new policies. From the outbreak of the Rotting Plague in the capital to the Church and nobles suddenly starting a war, countless innocent people had died from the disease or been displaced from their homes as refugees… In the last half-year alone, the powerful had levied extortionate taxes under false pretenses and forcibly conscripted the capital’s citizens to serve as cannon fodder on the front lines. It could be said that every household had a victim, and they all cheered loudly for the nobles’ demise.

Nearly one hundred nobles were sentenced to death. A new round of executions took place every half hour. The City Hall had arranged for a Magical-Powered Cannon to be brought in, loaded with blank shells filled only with Dragon’s Flame powder. Each boom of the cannon… signified that another high-ranking noble from a renowned family had met his end.

The executioners were half-orc soldiers specially selected from the army. They stood nearly two meters tall, with burly physiques. Wielding blood-drenched, thick-bladed cleavers, they were a terrifying sight. Many of the nobles who had been defiant before their sentences were so frightened by the sight that they lost control of their bowels, provoking roars of laughter and derision from the crowd.

And amidst these deafening cannon blasts, Harvey quietly departed from the Goldshine City harbor aboard an ironclad ship, heading for Fengyuan City at full speed…

“My lord, why didn’t you make a personal appearance at the Public Trial?” Arturo, who was returning with him, asked in confusion. “Letting the people of Goldshine City get to know you, and planting some secret police in the crowd to stir up support for you… wouldn’t that be a better way to rally the people?”

Harvey chuckled and shook his head. “These people are not like the residents of Starfire City. They won’t just flock to my side because I’ve lopped off a few noble heads…”

Only when the City Hall he established manages the city effectively, and the new policies truly benefit the people… only after he fulfills every promise made to them when he conquered the city, can their hearts and minds truly be considered won. For now, just as with the old nobles of the capital, they merely fear the bloody butcher’s knife in his hand.

…

His eagerness to return to the Northern Realm now was largely due to his acceptance of Mr. Spellshield’s sincere advice. Having temporarily cleared away all obstacles in the south, he had to turn his attention back to the north… to keep a close watch on the non-human enemy whose presence had just been revealed.

Until now, Harvey only had a trickle of intelligence on the enemy, obtained from the members of the recent exploration team—he knew their general appearance, the strange weapons and attack methods they used, and the likely direction of their advance.

Beyond that, he knew practically nothing. The first phase of construction for the ice sea exploration base was complete, and its self-defense capabilities were no longer a major concern. The development and manufacturing of submarines were also progressing steadily… The next step would inevitably be to begin large-scale exploration and reconnaissance of the surrounding area.

He had to find the non-human advance party that had attacked his exploration team. He couldn’t tolerate a powerful enemy lurking so close by, a constant threat at his doorstep.

From what Mr. Spellshield had revealed about the Federation’s internal affairs, the faction led by Lord Chief Salas was still supportive. They were willing to actively participate in Harvey’s defensive counter-plan. The Chief himself was even willing to relocate to Starfire City to preside over the Northern Realm alongside him, ready to confront the powerful, yet-unseen enemy.

However, the conservative faction, which leaned toward the Church and the secular nobility, and the neutral faction, which always prioritized self-preservation, maintained a very vague and ambiguous stance. The conservatives, led by the Magical Review Council, even cited classical texts and used numerous historical documents unearthed from ancient ruins to vigorously refute and oppose the truth Harvey had declared.

This segment of the Federation had deep ties to the seven wizard kingdoms. Even if all three Chiefs publicly announced their support for Harvey, it would be difficult to sway their attitude in the short term. Mr. Spellshield had expressed his regret and helplessness regarding this matter.

Meanwhile, the numerous neutral faction members within the Federation were pouring all their efforts into combating the Demons entrenched in the Evil Moon Mountain Range. As the Church scaled back its defenses and troops, they sought to seize as many resources and as much territory in the west as possible. With the powerful Anti-Demon weapons Harvey had provided under the guise of “Forum support,” they had intensified their offensive against the Demons. They were now locked in a fierce battle northwest of the Spine of the Continent Mountains, vowing to completely uproot the enemy’s forward command center established there.

The area around Blackstone City and the Evil Moon Mountain Range was dense with magic stone mines, and the vast, primordial mountain range, stretching for tens of thousands of kilometers, was rich in resources like demonic plants and Demonic beasts. It had long been a “land of gold” coveted by the Federation. To ask them to give up such readily available, immediate benefits to deal with an unknown enemy from the north… Mr. Spellshield believed it was impossible in the short term.

But the neutral faction controlled the largest number of Mage Corps. Mr. Spellshield, well-versed in the art of political intrigue, also advised Harvey not to completely give up on this powerful source of magical support. He had to seek a suitable opportunity to win them over… On this matter, the three Chiefs, who normally did not interfere in the Federation’s internal affairs, would assist him from the sidelines.

In light of this situation, a tempting idea—a new plan—began to form in Harvey’s mind.

The plan came with a certain risk and a chance of failure, and its execution seemed fraught with difficulties… But high risk meant high reward. If he succeeded, he might not only resolve the Federation’s internal divisions on the matter… but even seize a crucial advantage for the future confrontation with the powerful enemy.

And that was—to take the risk of capturing the non-human outpost lingering near the ice sea exploration base… and bring them back to the Northern Realm alive.

Even… bring them to the south, deliver them into the hands of the Federation, and prove to the world, once and for all, the truth of the non-human enemy’s existence!

Chapter 470: The Schism in the Holy See

“Miro Mendes ignored the Holy City’s orders, and with a little encouragement from some of the more radical among you… he actually dared to leave his post on the border of Isengard and march into St. Valen to rashly confront that Mage Lord from the Northern Realm!”

The Hall of Radiance was in an uproar. Cardinal Archbishop Tosa Ismael slammed his hand on the table, roaring with rage.

What happened in St. Valen was originally a reckless gamble by some of the more ambitious Cardinals, a vain attempt to use the nobles to force the Federation into a full-blown conflict. This would have allowed the Holy City’s “war faction” to become the de facto leaders of Goris and seize more authority.

Faced with such occasional “local conflicts,” the Holy See could have just turned a blind eye, maintaining their superficial alliance with the Federation in Blackstone City and against the Demon offensive. But after the outbreak of the Rotting Plague and the expulsion of Spellcasters, the situation in St. Valen was already a powder keg. The “minor skirmishes” on the border between the two nations had gradually escalated into a major war, one that even the lords and vassals were summoned to join!

The Federation, having suffered a hidden loss, was naturally unwilling to let the matter rest. Even the Federation’s Chief, who typically remained aloof from worldly affairs, sent a personal letter to the Pope condemning their actions. The southern nations, led by Oland, which leaned towards the Spellcasters, began to close down churches and expel missionaries and Priests. Even from the Burrowing Dwarves along the southern coast came equally grim news.

This was undoubtedly an act of self-sabotage, shaking the very foundation of the Church’s faith!

Cardinal Bamoa was silent for a moment before he couldn’t resist speaking up on behalf of certain people. “Starting with a Duchy like St. Valen, which has a strong base of believers, to gradually eliminate the entrenched Federation forces… was not a bad plan in principle. The Federation already holds a clear advantage in Blackstone City. When necessary, we naturally need to apply pressure on them from other fronts.”

Ismael shot Bamoa a glance, knowing full well that he had likely condoned and enabled much of this series of events. Suppressing his anger, he retorted, “And the result is that three thousand elite knights of the Spear of Radiance’s Army of Judgment now lie buried beneath the walls of Goldshine City’s capital!”

Chief Inquisitor Felipe, his face grim, stepped forward from the crowd and bowed. “Your Excellency, if the intelligence provided by that Federation informant hadn’t been false, we would never have misjudged the enemy’s strength, which led to the loss of the Army of Judgment’s effective strength in a pre-laid trap. With all due respect, I fear that informant was a dose of poison the Federation handed to us on a silver platter!”

Hearing this, the众人 in the hall immediately began to whisper among themselves, gradually sensing that something was amiss in the complex situation.

Felipe gritted his teeth. “If he hadn’t told us that the First Chief, Kemer Salas, was on death’s door from a relapse of his Soul-Splitting Sickness, and that now was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to suppress the Federation… why would we have gone to such lengths to set up this grand chessboard in St. Valen and actively lure the Federation into it?”

And the result? Not only was the Legendary Chief perfectly fine, but the problem of his supposedly impending death had suddenly been resolved. The Rotting Plague spreading through St. Valen was even contained with incredible speed by the Spellcasters. The healing potions they provided to the populace were even more effective than the Church’s Divine Grace Potions—a vicious slap in the face to the Church right in front of thousands of believers.

Bamoa frowned. “Furthermore… he promised us he would find a way to control the Grand Duke of St. Valen and have the Duchy completely side with the Church under the guise of the secular nobility… but instead, he left the Grand Duke himself a walking corpse on the verge of death! This led to the Spellcasters pinning the crime of murdering the royal family on us!”

At this, Ismael coughed awkwardly and slowly explained, “That was an unexpected turn of events… His Holiness was reluctant to grant him the Rebirth Ceremony. I suspect he wasn’t placing all his hopes on us and was also taking a huge risk by experimenting with forbidden magic on his own direct blood relative…”

“What? He and the Grand Duke of St. Valen are close kin?” Felipe asked in surprise.

“Mm… besides myself and His Holiness, Bishop Bamoa is also privy to this information.” Now that the plan had failed, there was no need for Ismael to hide it any longer.

Bamoa said resentfully, “All the more reason not to agree to perform the ceremony for him! A crazed wizard who would betray his organization for personal gain, one who’d even harm his own blood descendant, is fundamentally unworthy of our investment and trust!”

Several Chief Inquisitors, clustered around Felipe, addressed the three Cardinal Archbishops in unison, “Your Excellencies, even if Chief Inquisitor Mendes acted on his own accord against orders, we cannot stand by and accept the near-total annihilation of the Spear of Radiance! We must avenge my Lord’s most faithful servants!”

“Yes! Vengeance! Muster the Holy City’s three Army of Judgment legions and march on St. Valen immediately! Tie all those despicable heretics to the stake and let them face their final judgment!”

“That’s right! The Federation’s main forces are bogged down on the Demon battlefield in the Evil Moon Mountain Range. Even if we don’t completely tear up the peace treaty… we must at least destroy the power base of that Mage Lord they’ve cultivated in the Northern Realm! We absolutely cannot sit by and watch the Federation plant such a sharp, venomous thorn in our back!”

Bishop Riviera, who came from an ascetic background and rarely spoke, raised a hand to quiet the crowd. He turned to the conflicted Ismael, pointed a finger to the heavens, then at the non-existent crown above his head.

His meaning was clear—the Chief Inquisitors and Bishops were now obviously split into two factions, the war and peace camps deadlocked. Even the three of them at the head could not reach an agreement. It would be better to go to the Arcane Section of the Cathedral of Divine Grace and seek an audience with His Holiness, The Thirteenth Pope, who had been in seclusion for a long time, to hear his teachings and instructions.

And among the three of them, the one who had the privilege of seeing the Pope at any time was, naturally, Ismael himself, the man regarded as the next successor to the papacy.

The Arcane Section, built within a deep pit beneath the cathedral, was always dim and gloomy. Even in broad daylight, it required countless candles and torches for illumination, which only made the single beam of sunlight filtering down from the dome seem all the more sacred and precious.

The Pope remained in that cramped, empty prayer room, dressed in the same low-ranking priest’s gray robe he had worn for years.

“Years of indulgence and tacit approval towards the Divine Punishment Faction have finally made us taste the unbearable, bitter fruit.” The Pope slowly straightened up, his gray eyes looking directly at his future successor. “And yet, to ensure our faith remains unshaken, we are forced to mire ourselves in these endless disputes…”

Ismael was somewhat lost. “Your Holiness,” he said in a low voice, “the Bishops and Chief Inquisitors are in fierce debate over this, most believing we cannot let this matter go… If it is not handled properly, I fear the Holy See will be completely split into two opposing factions.”

“But the magical weapons possessed by that Mage Lord of the North… they are even more powerful and terrifying than the Federation’s alchemical weapons. We have never been able to completely defeat these Spellcasters in the past. Do you truly believe you have a chance of winning now?”

Faced with the Pope’s gentle questioning, the Cardinal fell silent for a moment before struggling to offer a defense. “We have the knights of the Army of Judgment, fearless in the face of death and absolutely loyal. We also have vast numbers of believers spread throughout the south. I believe…”

“You believe in starting an all-out war with the Federation, just like a century ago, only to let the Demons seize the opportunity and invade while we are vulnerable, allowing them to ravage the southern continent and gravely wound the human race?”

The Pope sighed and slowly walked to the stone altar, gazing at the row of flickering lamps. “If this were merely a dispute over faith and truth, then we and those wizards, who are unbelievers, would naturally be mortal enemies…”

“But… today, through my prayers and meditation, I have repeatedly received a faint revelation…”

“In the near future, our race will face an invasion by a non-human race more powerful than the Demons. Neither we nor the Federation’s Spellcasters will be able to stand against them alone…”

The Pope turned his head to look at the stunned and uncertain Ismael, speaking slowly. “The faith of the people is the cornerstone of our existence. If a non-human invasion leads to mass casualties among the commoners, our divine arts and bloodline power will gradually weaken as the power of faith recedes… Until, in the end, you and I might not even be able to receive a single shred of our Lord’s grace through prayer!”

Chapter 471: The “Ice Fishing” Plan

After a swift return to Starfire City, Harvey wasted no time, gathering all the members of the previous Icefields exploration team the very next morning.

Besides Duncan, the Eye of Illusion, and the Astrologer, White, a recovered Black, and Michel were all present.

“The weapon used by the hide-covered monsters is a black water of an unknown nature…” Duncan slowly rose and was the first to speak. “This liquid weapon comes from the metal canisters they carry on their backs, released through a tube and then manipulated into various forms of offensive weapons.”

The Astrologer added in a solemn voice, “The most common form is that of small crystalline spikes, characterized by being silent and swift, with extremely strong piercing power.”

“Next is the long whip form… flexible and tough, with a very large attack range. A single enemy using it was able to pin down both my teacher and me in our phantom forms.” The Eye of Illusion also recalled the dangerous situation at the time, chiming in with a frown.

There was also a spear form with an extremely long attack range, capable of being launched from the ground to a height of fifty to sixty meters, puncturing the airship’s Gasbag… and a sword and blade form that was equally suited for close combat.

Harvey listened silently to the team members’ detailed descriptions, then suddenly asked, “Ms. Astrologer, you were ambushed because the enemy’s attack had absolutely no mana fluctuations and was completely undetectable… is that right?”

“Correct…” The Astrologer nodded affirmatively. “An Astrology Mage may not have a great advantage in direct combat, but when it comes to mana detection and danger perception, I should never have been ambushed without any warning.”

This meant that the weapons and abilities the enemy controlled were completely different from mana or divine arts… Harvey even dared to boldly speculate that their method of drawing energy probably didn’t originate from the Magic Net of other dimensions.

He suddenly recalled the combat scene Duncan had described—the black crystalline spikes that pierced his body, even after being disconnected from the enemy’s control, still seemed to possess a life of their own, persistently burrowing under his skin…

“It seems to be a kind of biochemical weapon…” Harvey muttered to himself.

While Chris and Egnor, who had arrived late, were reading through the battle report, Harvey turned to Black, who had been severely injured and nearly died, and asked, “After you worked together to kill the enemy, you were trying to remove its hide mask when… you were suddenly struck by a strange red light?”

Black gritted his teeth. “That’s right. The strange hide on their bodies looked like a single, seamless piece. Besides the crystalline mask embedded in their faces, I couldn’t think of any other way to see the enemy’s true face… so I took the risk and tried to remove it.”

The seamless hide had extremely high magic resistance, and the only weak point was the crystalline faceplate… Forcibly removing it would trigger some kind of defense mechanism.

“From the description, it sounds like some kind of bio-electric reaction…” Harvey couldn’t help but draw on some of the physics and chemistry knowledge from his past life, muttering with a self-deprecating smile.

He then collected his thoughts, cleared his throat, and said, “But at least we’ve stumbled upon one of their significant weaknesses.”

The bullets from the Magical Energy Guns can penetrate that strange, magic-resistant hide and easily detonate the black water canisters on their backs!

The weapon they primarily rely on… is a highly flammable substance similar to Dragon’s Flame powder and fire oil!

Harvey stood up and walked enthusiastically to the blackboard in the conference room. He raised his hand and, with a thick charcoal pencil, swiftly wrote three lines.

“Let’s assume these hide-covered monsters were attracted by three things the exploration team unintentionally exposed in the dense forests of the barren lands… which is why they followed and ambushed you so silently.”

Written clearly on the blackboard were—Airship, Campfire Light, Mana Fluctuations.

But the enemy clearly lacks the ability to pursue at high speeds, nor do they have the aid of high-rank flight spells. So, after the airship took off and accelerated away… they could no longer lock onto the target and continue the chase.

Moreover, the location where the exploration team encountered the enemy was very close to the ice sea… This strongly suggests that they likely come from the deep sea beneath the ice and operate in squads when they land.

Duncan had a sudden realization. “No wonder we couldn’t find any trace of their camp, no matter how hard we searched… If they secretly landed at a small upwelling on the edge of the ice sea, that would indeed be very stealthy!”

Harvey nodded in agreement and continued, “I suspect that the strange, full-body hide they wear is a kind of [diving suit] to insulate them from the extremely cold seawater or the air on land. The reason it has to be completely sealed is surely because they cannot be directly exposed to the surface. We probably won’t uncover the truth until we capture one alive.”

Chris and Benoit were taking notes quickly when Chris suddenly looked up and interjected, “If they regularly return to the sea and don’t stay on land for long, how are we supposed to capture them? We can’t actually dive into the freezing sea, can we?”

The development and manufacturing of the submarine are still at a critical stage, so it can’t be officially put into service just yet.

Harvey, however, chuckled lightly. He raised his hand and hastily sketched a crude drawing on the blackboard. “You’ve all lived in Starfire City for quite some time now. Have you ever seen the fishing department’s operations at the docks?”

The Eye of Illusion was taken aback for a moment, then said with a wry smile, “My lord, are you talking about using ironclad fishing boats to forcibly break through the ice, then casting a bottom trawl net to catch glacial salmon?”

“First, the ice on the ice sea is several times thicker than the ice that forms on the Icefield River… Second, we’re trying to catch non-human enemies who are very similar to us in appearance, with hands and feet. They’re not defenseless, ordinary sea fish!”

Harvey pursed his lips and explained with a sigh, “I’m not talking about industrial fishing, but the way the residents used to go angling on the Icefield River in winter to add some variety to their meals, before the ironclad ships became common!”

Chris’s face lit up with understanding. He slammed his hand on the table and laughed, “I know! It’s ice fishing through a hole!”

He had lived in the territory longer than anyone else present and was very familiar with the local residents’ way of life. Naturally, he knew about the unique method of ice fishing in the barren lands—using a cone-shaped spear to break a bowl-sized hole in the ice. Dropping in a baited hook would attract swarms of extremely hungry glacial salmon, and you could get a full catch in less than half a day.

So, by using prospecting-type alchemical beasts to drill through the thick ice and create an artificial upwelling large enough… planting a “bait” nearby to lure them to the surface to land, as long as the operation is stealthy and timed correctly, there’s a high chance of “fishing” for these “big fish” hiding in the sea.

Harvey nodded with a grin. “Next, we need to discuss… how to set up a clever and suitable [bait].”

Chapter 472: Entrapment Drill

The Ice Sea exploration base, deep within the frozen earth of the barren lands.

Controlling the soul puppet, Harvey once again led the members of the exploration team here.

Compared to more than two months ago, the base had changed dramatically. Three large energy-gathering arrays stood tall in the center of the base, and a row of iron sheds housed several long-range, one-way teleportation arrays, continuously sending all sorts of combat supplies to the base.

Only one two-way teleportation array capable of transporting personnel could be constructed at present. Without the support of a Planet-level Energy-gathering Array, the base’s own stored mana was only sufficient for one concentrated teleportation every half a month.

Along the edge of the great sinkhole of the Eternal Night Ruins, a semi-circular defensive wall several kilometers long had been built. The engineering team, operating alchemical beasts, sourced materials locally, cutting the hard, thick ice into neat, massive ice bricks. It took them less than a week to erect the outermost defensive fortifications.

The entire base was backed against the edge of the sinkhole. In addition to the outer ice wall, numerous outpost bunkers had been built within the thousand-meter alert radius nearby. These were also constructed by directly excavating the ice, which was much more convenient than building with steel and concrete.

The interior of the base was well-organized, complete with temporary living quarters for soldiers, workers, and technicians, food and material storage warehouses, and an alchemical weapon and equipment armory. At the edge of the sinkhole, the only section without an ice wall, three lifts operated by alchemical power units were running around the clock. The research mages and Alchemists dispatched by the Academy of Sciences and the Alchemy Laboratory were working almost tirelessly, cautiously excavating and exploring the periphery of the Eternal Night Ruins according to Harvey’s instructions.

Harvey had brought his people over early, naturally intending to conduct a drill near the base first to ensure the plan to trap the non-human race enemy was foolproof.

…

“My lord, I don’t understand…” The Eye of Illusion looked somewhat dejected. “The members of our exploration team were the first to encounter the enemy, so why are we not being included in the entrapment plan?”

He turned to glance at the Astrologer, trying to use his gaze to compel the other man to speak up for him. “Although we were caught off guard and made many mistakes… at least we had no problem protecting ourselves.”

Harvey and Duncan exchanged a look and shook their heads with a smile. “A fisherman doesn’t hang himself on the hook as bait. You have other tasks to carry out. For now, just observe the entrapment plan!”

With that, he nodded to his personal guard, Tommy. The Captain immediately stepped forward with a squad of Bloodline Warriors, followed by two massive Wolf Spider Beasts—the Wolf Spider Type 3, the latest model developed by the munitions factory. This new type of Wolf Spider Beast fell into the heavy weapons category. The Magic Core it carried provided extremely powerful energy; a full discharge of its internal mana could create a disturbance no less powerful than a full-strength strike from a high-level caster.

Coupled with a design renowned for its sturdy armor and agile movement, it could maneuver freely even in complex and narrow urban combat environments. Harvey had originally planned to officially deploy it in the urban warfare in the south, but the idea was temporarily shelved due to the weight capacity and transportation difficulties of the ironclad ships.

Now, it was perfectly suited to serve as “magical bait” to lure the non-human race enemies.

“My personal guard will be fully in charge of this trapping operation. The devices we’ll use, besides the Wolf Spider Beasts, include an Airship as a decoy. We will also set up a camouflaged temporary camp near the artificially created upwelling to simulate the entire scenario of the exploration team’s previous encounter.”

Harvey gave a simple overview of the plan’s initial setup and then patted the Captain of the personal guard, Tommy, on the shoulder. “Next, Captain Tommy will explain the specific arrangements and points of caution for ‘Operation Ice Fishing’.”

Tommy didn’t seem nervous at all. With his usual carefree smile, he bowed to Harvey and announced in a clear voice, “According to our intelligence, the dense forest in the barren lands where the exploration team encountered the target is less than twenty-five kilometers from the edge of the ice sea. From this, we surmise… the scope of their landing activities won’t be too far from the ice sea. Their forward base… must be in the deep sea somewhere along the edge of the ice sea!”

A small upwelling, unlike the sinkhole of the Eternal Night Ruins, didn’t remain in a constant state of tidal flux. Due to its small opening, the hole in the ice created by an undersea eruption would only last for a few days before gradually freezing over as the tide receded.

Therefore, Harvey speculated that the hide-covered monsters must be constantly patrolling the edge of the ice sea. The moment they found an upwelling that could serve as a temporary landing point, they would immediately come ashore for a quick reconnaissance of the land, then return to the sea before the upwelling froze over.

Tommy continued with complete confidence, “The personal guard will be divided into two combat groups. One group, armed with Magical Energy Guns, will lie in ambush at the camouflaged camp and attack after the target takes the bait and lands… The other group will hide directly near the artificial upwelling. Once the enemy is ashore, they will immediately destroy the ice cave, cutting off their only escape route.”

The Bloodline Warriors of the personal guard were in a different league from the “terrible shots” of the exploration team. Most of them were among the members of the first militia Harvey had formed. Although not every one of them could match the marksmanship of the battalion commanders, they could basically hit whatever they aimed at within short to medium range—every bullet finds its mark.

Duncan couldn’t help but ask, “The personnel arrangements and plans for the frontal assault and cutting off their retreat are very thorough… but how do we capture them alive?”

The lethal effect of the Magical Energy Guns on the hide-covered monsters was beyond doubt. Piercing their strange hide shells or directly detonating the black water canisters would kill them on the spot. But to capture one alive… neither of those methods would work.

Tommy rubbed his hands together and explained, “The targets have a similar build to us Humans. I assume that their limbs, unlike their head and chest, are not vital areas. We will try to break their limbs to instantly neutralize their ability to resist…”

Harvey interjected at the right moment, “Considering that breaking their limbs might damage their hide shells and cause them to activate that strange red light ‘self-destruct program’ like before, it’s best to use specially built traps to capture them and transport them back directly.”

The Eye of Illusion asked, intrigued, “There are special trapping devices?”

“Of course. With the Lord City Lord’s permission, the munitions factory rushed to produce three frozen cages.”

As he spoke, six personal guards pushed forward three man-high, hexagonal pillars on casters. Duncan and the Eye of Illusion hurried over to inspect them. They found that the iron containers were just large enough to hold a person, and their interiors were inscribed with densely packed rune arrays.

“When Mr. Duncan fought the enemy head-on, he used the frost breath of the Icefield demon wolf from his shapeshifting magic to freeze one of them. He later discovered that the enemy didn’t die outright but was merely incapacitated… So, by using these pillars fitted with a freezing magic trap to imprison the targets, we can ensure they won’t die from their shells rupturing or from any self-destruct actions.”

As for how to get the targets to fall into these pillars, which would be buried in the ice to act as pitfalls… that would naturally rely on those new Wolf Spider Beasts to deliberately herd them.

Chapter 473: The Rougher the Seas, the Pricier the ‘Fish’

Three days later, all preliminary preparations for the “Ice Fishing” operation were complete. Harvey personally oversaw things from the ice sea exploration base, watching as the personal guard and the original exploration team members, assigned to carry out the mission, split into two groups and departed on Airships.

According to the original plan, while Harvey’s personal guard was on the mission to trap the non-human race enemies, Duncan’s exploration team would swiftly cross the barren land’s dense forest and head straight for the refugee settlement in the snowy mountain. Their goal was to persuade and guide the refugees to the exploration base, from where they would be successively relocated to Starfire City through the long-range teleportation array.

The appearance of the non-human race in the tundra near the ice sea meant that the already perilous barren lands were even less suitable for the survival and propagation of Humans. With the exploration base serving as a replacement outpost, the snowy mountain refugees could finally lay down the burden of lighting signal fires as a warning—a duty they had carried for centuries—and go to Starfire City to settle down to live and work in peace.

Meanwhile, the personal guard, tasked with the more critical mission, piloted two Airships. One landed near an upwelling on the ground to act as bait, while the other, with Tommy in command, was responsible for airborne surveillance.

A total of thirty Bloodline Warriors participated in this operation. All of them were elite veterans who had been the first to join when Harvey established the pioneer territories militia. Not only were they the first to master the use of the Magical Energy Gun, but they were also the first soldiers to fight against the vile orc tribes and the remnants of the Demon army. Harvey had personally presided over their bloodline awakening ceremony, and they held absolute loyalty and fanaticism towards Harvey, their Bloodline Progenitor.

Although they had no firsthand experience fighting the hide-covered monsters, they had been repeatedly reminded during pre-battle drills that they were facing a different kind of monster, several times more ferocious than the vile orcs and Demons. It was possible that even their mastery of the Magical Energy Gun would not be enough to completely suppress and defeat them, and that a certain casualty rate would be necessary to ensure the mission’s success.

However, the personal guard showed no fear or hesitation. Instead, it stirred a fervent desire within the soldiers to compete and earn merit.

“If the situation turns against you, don’t insist on taking the target alive. Your own safety is the top priority… Even if all you bring back are dead bodies, it would still be a huge gain for us!” Harvey patted Tommy’s shoulder and instructed him solemnly. “I don’t want to see any more soldiers bearing my name laid to rest in Starfire City’s martyrs’ cemetery.”

For a rare moment, Tommy dropped his nonchalant attitude. With his eyes slightly red, he knelt on one knee before Harvey in a salute. The Bloodline Warriors behind him followed suit, striking their chests with their fists and responding in unison.

…

The two Airships, each carrying ten personal guards, flew toward the edge of the ice sea. On the ground, a separate squad rode Magic Motorcycles, transporting the heavy frozen cages and the Wolf Spider Beasts. The Airships deliberately slowed down to keep pace with the ground troops.

As per the plan, both Airships intentionally maintained a low altitude. Their magical-powered cores, running at half speed, emitted a constant, low hum. The ground troops, less than fifty meters away, could clearly feel the waves of mana fluctuation coming from above.

From the moment the teams left the base, the “bait” was already in play.

Of course, it was difficult for the non-human race enemies under the thick ice to quickly lock onto the moving Airships. Ultimately, they would need to feign a landing and create an artificial “landing point” for the enemy in order to tempt the target into making a move.

“Chief, say… if we pull this mission off perfectly, you think we’ll all earn a silver medal at the year-end commendation ceremony?”

Starfire City’s honorary medals—for the military, government, or civilians—were divided into three classes based on merit: gold, silver, and iron. In the military, only the highly decorated Northern Army had ever won any silver medals. The Defense Force and the Personal Guard, having fewer combat missions, lacked opportunities to earn distinction and had always been green with envy over the annual honor.

Tommy carefully placed the half-smoked cigarette, which had been extinguished by the high-altitude wind, back into his breast pocket. He shot his Deputy a sideways glance. “The operation hasn’t even started and you’re already fantasizing about rewards? Have you forgotten everything My lord told us before we left? Focus! Be cautious! And don’t prattle on to me about anything unrelated to the mission.”

A few soldiers who had been eagerly awaiting his response quickly shrank back and returned to their posts on the Airship, focusing on keeping watch for the ground troops.

Soon, a deep green came into view on the horizon. The distinct line separating the ice sea from the barren land’s dense forest grew clearer. Tommy took the communicator and, in a calm voice, informed the ground squad that they had reached their destination.

The Airship gained a little altitude, using its superior vantage point to quickly search for a suitable place to set up the ambush. The area could not have any existing natural upwellings, and it was best to be far from the barren land’s dense forest to prevent the target from escaping into the woods after an attack, which would make the hunt more difficult.

Soon, Tommy decisively marked out an area and directed the Airship to descend slowly and rendezvous with the ground team.

Without needing many orders, the soldiers silently followed the pre-planned steps to set up a “temporary camp.” To make the camp look convincing, they lit several fires before sunset. Then, in groups of three, they crawled into tarp tents, buried themselves in the snow, and began to wait patiently.

Meanwhile, the ground troops commanded several alchemical beasts to rapidly dig an artificial ice hole, over ten meters in diameter, straight down to sea level. They only stopped when they saw the dark, churning blue-black water below.

Several fist-sized mana bombs were planted around the edge of the ice hole beforehand. The bombs, mixed with Dragon’s Flame powder, had been pre-fitted with metal casings inscribed with a detonation formation by the Alchemy Laboratory. All it would take was controlling a small magical-powered core from a distance to instantly collapse the deep ice hole.

The two ambush squads, each with ten members, were ready. The most crucial part of the plan now rested on the soldiers pretending to be active in the camp. Tommy had chosen to forgo keeping one Airship airborne for surveillance and instead decided to personally lead ten of his personal guards in the camp, acting as the “live bait” on the dangerous front line.

Accompanying them, of course, were five Wolf Spider Beasts that had been ordered to continuously release mana fluctuations. With the help of these large creatures, they were completely confident they could handle an attack from an equal or even slightly greater number of enemies.

…

The sun soon set behind the sprawling snowy mountains of the barren lands. Darkness gradually enveloped the entire expanse of the plains and the edge of the ice sea. A biting wind, carrying flurries of snow, began to rage across the boundless ice.

“Chief, these non-human race monsters… can they really sense our Airships and troops from under the thick ice? What if they aren’t hiding under the sea at all?”

Tommy tossed an oil-soaked log into the fire. “My lord City Lord’s judgment is never wrong,” he said in a low voice. “We’ve already expanded our search on land as much as possible. It’s impossible for them to hide in the barren land’s dense forest without being discovered… Unless they can turn invisible, the only place they could be concealing their tracks is under the ice.”

A personal guard of half-orc descent sidled up to him and whispered, “Doesn’t your bloodline talent allow you to quickly lock onto targets and accurately identify their weaknesses? Can you sense any movement under the sea through the ice?”

“Hmm? I’ve never thought of that…” Tommy paused, then frowned in thought for a moment. “I’ll give it a try!”

With that, he mobilized the bloodline power throughout his body, channeling it to his eyes. He turned his gaze toward the nearby ice hole, and his vision swiftly pierced through the crystalline blue ice, reaching deep beneath the sea’s surface.

In that instant, within the seawater, which was as black as ink in the night, it was as if hundreds, even thousands, of crimson, bulging eyeballs suddenly focused and met his gaze directly!

Tommy felt his blood run cold. A layer of cold sweat instantly broke out on his back, forced out by terror.

“They’re right beneath us!” he immediately cut off his ability and screamed hoarsely.

Chapter 474: Dead or Alive, It Doesn’t Matter

“Enemy attack! Watch out for the enemy attack!”

The soldiers left in the camouflaged camp as bait all rose to their feet, grabbing their nearby weapons and moving into the snow trenches they had dug in advance. The other two groups, ambushing in the ice cave and tents, continued to hold their position, waiting for the enemy to fully reveal themselves.

While moving into the trenches to set up their defense, Tommy couldn’t resist using his bloodline power once more, focusing his gaze on the mouth of the ice cave several dozen meters away. Seven or eight distorted, swollen black figures were silently climbing the edge of the ice cave, appearing in his line of sight.

Their entire bodies were encased in a seamless, pliant hide. The surface of this hide was dark and uneven. Only on the part that could be called a head was a palm-sized red crystalline faceplate embedded. Tommy was almost certain that the swollen eyeball he had just made eye contact with was now hidden behind this thin crystalline faceplate.

With the enhancement of his bloodline talent, Tommy’s powers of observation had always far surpassed those of an ordinary person. He quickly noticed that something was amiss.

The hide-covered monsters didn’t have the black water tanks they used as weapons strapped to their backs!

Could it be that they had stumbled upon them by accident and weren’t prepared for battle, thus not carrying their weapon systems?

His deputy lightly nudged his arm with an elbow, asking him silently if they should still proceed with the plan to capture them.

Tommy hesitated for a moment as a strong, unsettling premonition welled up from the bottom of his heart.

Before he could issue an order, the squad of soldiers lying in ambush near the ice cave, having waited a long time for the command to engage, lost their patience and fired the first shot!

Vwmm! Zzzzt—

The familiar sound of a Magical Energy Gun firing rang out.

Among the seven or eight enemies who had just climbed out of the ice cave, the one in the very front lurched violently to the side. It staggered two steps before swaying and collapsing to the ground.

Another monster behind it instantly turned its body, looking precisely in the direction of the attack. It raised a clenched fist and swung… A thick bolt of red light, as swift as lightning, burst from its palm, shooting toward the soldier firing from the snow pit in the blink of an eye.

With a loud boom, a huge cloud of snow mist erupted from the ice, mingled with a conspicuous splash of crimson.

The soldier who had opened fire had his arm torn clean off at the shoulder. Blood gushed out in a torrent. He collapsed into the blasted-open snow pit and passed out before he could even cry out in pain.

“Attack!” Tommy ordered, gritting his teeth at the sight.

The camp immediately erupted with the sound of dense, continuous gunfire, blanketing the seven or eight enemies who had made it to the surface in a hail of bullets from dozens of meters away.

Almost at the same moment the gunfire rang out, a large, dense horde of black figures suddenly swarmed out of the ice cave. The appearance of these ones finally matched the intelligence Tommy had—they all carried massive metal tanks on their backs. They were the enemy who wielded the black water weapons!

“Chief! Do we blow it?”

“Blow it! Blow it now!” Tommy spat through gritted teeth. “If we don’t seal that ice cave, we’ll be outnumbered ten to one!”

The deputy immediately transmitted the detonation order to the ambush squad near the ice cave via his communicator. A few seconds later, a massive explosion echoed—for a brief moment, even the sky was illuminated by the blaze.

A colossal fireball mixed with black smoke soared into the air, surrounded by churning ice shards and snowflakes. The ice cave collapsed amidst the boom, and huge chunks of ice mixed with thick snow packed the entrance shut.

Tommy even saw a few black figures who had just climbed to the edge of the ice cave and were about to emerge get engulfed by the scorching flames. Their bodies immediately caught fire, and then the black water tanks on their backs exploded with a bang, sending several of their nearby companions flying.

But a rough count of the non-human race monsters who had made it to the surface was already close to one hundred!

…

Five enormous Wolf Spider Beasts, scuttling on their sturdy metal legs, appeared from behind the camp’s tents, nimbly leaping over obstacles and pouncing toward the enemy.

“Watch out for the ones without the tanks! They have long-range attack capabilities!” Tommy shouted to the soldiers beside him. “Coordinate with the Wolf Spider Beasts to lay down suppressive fire. Don’t worry about taking them alive anymore. Shoot them directly in the head and chest!”

Even if they wanted to take prisoners, his thirty-odd men couldn’t handle nearly a hundred captives. They had to concentrate their strength on eliminating the vast majority first, then consider whether to hold back and capture any remnants who survived.

The hide-covered monsters were also exceptionally agile. Upon discovering that the bullets appearing out of nowhere posed a fatal threat, they immediately scattered, using the piles of ice and snow from the cave excavation as cover, and began to maneuver against the personal guard soldiers.

The thick, long black spears and sharp black crystalline spikes that occasionally flew out from the darkness indicated that they needed no light source to see; they seemed to possess natural night vision.

Tommy now faintly regretted not following the City Lord’s advice to have an Airship in the sky to suppress the enemy. If he were in the air at this moment, not a single one of these non-human enemies who had found cover or buried themselves in the snow below would escape his targeting sight.

The Wolf Spider Beasts needed no specific commands, swiftly rushing toward the enemy figures they spotted. Many of the tank-carrying non-humans immediately manipulated the black water, forming it into melee weapons, and surrounded the alchemical beasts, engaging them in close-quarters combat with superior numbers. The solidified black water, shaped into swords, blades, and long whips, seemed exceptionally sharp and durable, even striking off fleeting sparks as it hacked against the alchemical beasts’ armor.

Soon, Tommy noticed the strange behavior of this group of non-human enemies—the black water monsters seemed to be deliberately surrounding the red light monsters. Many even gave up attacking, instead using the black water to form irregular shields, which actually managed to block the bullets coming from the ice cave and the camp.

“The black water in a shield form… can block Magical Energy Bullets?” Tommy thought with a sinking feeling. He ducked, leaped out of the snow pit, and with an agile twist of his body, dodged a bolt of red light that shot out from a gap in the black shields, throwing himself toward the back of the camp.

Several other equally swift and agile personal guard soldiers followed closely behind him—their target was the two Airships parked on the ground behind the camouflaged camp, serving as bait.

They had to get at least one airborne to provide the ground soldiers with precise fire suppression from the sky!

The clustered non-human enemies seemed to have noticed their movement. After a brief commotion in their shield formation, a squad of more than ten split off. Still in the formation of black water enemies holding shields with red light enemies hidden within, they also moved past the tents to intercept Tommy and his men.

Tommy, who had intentionally fallen to the rear of the group, instantly turned around. His bloodline power rapidly converged in his eyes. He knelt in the snow, gun raised, and locked onto a target within the rapidly moving wall of bodies. Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger. A bullet shot through a tiny gap between two black shields, precisely striking the crystalline faceplate on the head of a red light monster that was surrounded in the center.

After shattering the faceplate, the bullet bored straight into its skull. The red light monster’s head suddenly swelled and exploded, the upper half of its cranium blowing to pieces. A viscous black liquid mixed with a crimson paste of flesh and fragments splattered out—it turned out the flesh and blood of these non-human monsters under their hides was also red.

Taking a Sick Day Tomorrow!

Taking a sick day tomorrow!

I caught the flu; I have a headache and my whole body aches…

I had to take leave from work and came straight home to lie down. If I can manage to get up tonight, I’ll do some Writing, but it’s highly unlikely I’ll be able to push through. So, I’m letting you all know in advance that I’m taking tomorrow off to rest.

I am very sorry! Please take care, everyone. It’s peak flu season.

Chapter 475: Encirclement

With Captain Tommy personally holding the rear to buy time, the few personal guards in charge of the Airship quickly reached the designated location, climbed into the Gondola, and activated the magical-powered core.

The black water man holding the shield seemed completely unmoved by its companion’s death. Having lost the target it was protecting, it immediately changed tactics, transforming the shield it had manifested into a black crystalline weapon and silently charging at Tommy who blocked its path.

“Captain, look out!”

Tommy tossed his long spear behind him, quickly drew an alchemical combat knife from his waist, and raised it to meet a black crystalline sword. It was only at close quarters that he got a clear look at the enemy’s strange, ever-changing weapon. Its surface was as smooth and clear as a mirror, faintly reflecting his own ferocious expression in the heat of battle.

Clang! The piercing sound of weapons clashing rang out…

The combat knife slammed hard against the black sword. Tommy’s face flushed red, the knife nearly flew out of his hand, and he staggered back two steps… The strength of these non-human monsters was astonishing!

He no longer hesitated or lingered in the fight. He immediately reversed his grip on the knife, turned, and sprinted toward the Airship that was slowly ascending.

The black water creature naturally followed close behind. Fortunately, the soldiers in the Airship opened fire in time, quickly killing the few enemies charging at the front, and successfully provided cover for their Captain as he climbed the rope ladder and tumbled into the Gondola.

The Airship had now ascended to a height of nearly seven or eight meters. The enemy could no longer reach the people in the Gondola and could only futilely form black spears, attempting to hurl them and pierce the Airship’s Gasbag. However, their aim and rate of fire were clearly far inferior to the soldiers in the Gondola. Firing from above with precise, targeted shots, every bullet claimed the life of a creature.

Only then did Tommy take a deep breath, suddenly feeling a sharp, burning pain on his back. He reached back and wiped his hand… Sticky black water stained his palm, mixed with a significant amount of crimson. During his fighting retreat, his back must have been hit by the black crystalline spikes released by the enemy. Now that the controller was dead, the fine spikes embedded in his back had instantly reverted to their original form, turning back into liquid.

“Chief, are you alright?”

Tommy shook his head. He took a glass vile from a pouch on his tactical belt, crushed the seal, and tilted his head back, pouring the medicinal liquid into his mouth.

He didn’t know if the black water was toxic, but taking the special antidote from the infirmary in advance couldn’t hurt.

“Get me the large-caliber Sniper rifle from the Gondola!”

The Airship was in the air. Now it was his turn to strike and make the enemies on the ground feel the pain!

…

The non-human enemies that had crawled out of the ice cave gradually gathered together. Under the soldiers’ concentrated fire, even the solid black shields they formed couldn’t hold and shattered one after another. Of their original number of nearly one hundred, more than half were already dead or wounded… The entire snowy ground was splattered with black water and crimson blood.

The Three-Star Magical Energy Guns, with their large ammunition capacity and extremely high rate of fire, allowed the thirty-odd Personal Guard soldiers on this mission to completely suppress these terrifying enemies that had climbed up from the seabed.

Only the red-light creatures, huddled inside the shield wall, could occasionally fire a bolt of red lightning, randomly striking at the soldiers’ snow pits and trenches… But the men had long since figured out their attack frequency and could duck to avoid it most of the time. Only a few unlucky ones were hit.

From the Airship, Tommy sniped targets while observing intently… The creatures seemed to be planning a retreat toward the collapsed ice cave. Did they have a way to instantly break through the sealed cave and escape back into the sea?

He absolutely could not let them escape!

He didn’t know how many enemies were hiding in the sea. If any remnants slipped through the net and returned to the sea to alert the enemy’s main force, and then returned to the ice sea base with the bodies of the dead or captives, it was highly likely they would be tracked, leading a large number of enemies to the vicinity of the Eternal Night Ruins.

The few Wolf Spider Beasts, upon which they had placed high hopes, failed to produce the desired luring effect. The intense mana fluctuations from their bodies did indeed attract the attention of many enemies, but the enemy had the advantage in numbers. Coupled with their ever-changing weapons that were versatile in both offense and defense at close range, the Wolf Spider Beasts stood no chance when swarmed.

Moreover, although the alchemical lifeforms still retained some of the biological traits and instincts from before their transformation, they were completely incapable of understanding and executing overly complex commands. They didn’t know how to incapacitate an enemy while also keeping it alive; they would only use their eight sharp, metallic legs and powerful mandibles to kill their targets with all their might.

A bullet whistled past a red-light creature hiding in the crowd, landing less than half a meter from its swollen, wide foot… The creature seemed startled and hurriedly pulled the surrounding black water creatures back with it. After less than fifteen minutes of fierce fighting, they had come to clearly understand the deadly power of these long-range weapons.

Two more bullets landed among the enemies. This time, they finally realized where the attack was coming from… In the sky less than a few dozen meters above them, several long guns were mounted on the Airship, firing down wantonly over the shield wall.

Unable to evade the attack, the non-human enemies were forced to scatter again. Several black water men protected a red-light creature as they stumbled through the sporadic gunfire to the edge of the camp, taking cover behind a stack of sheet-metal supply crates next to a tent.

The soldiers lying in ambush in the camp immediately ceased their suppressive fire. They moved quickly along the snow pits and trenches dug around the perimeter, circling to the vicinity of the ice cave. Two groups of soldiers successfully rendezvoused and began using their firepower from the opposite direction to force the group of enemies to retreat into the camp.

The tide of battle had now completely turned in favor of the human soldiers. From his position in the air, Tommy calmly and coolly operated the Sniper rifle, continuously picking off the targets surrounding the red-light creature, gradually herding it toward the location of a pre-set trap.

Finally… after the last black shield guard beside a red-light creature was shot and fell, the creature panicked. It desperately fired two bolts of red lightning, then turned and staggered toward a tent to take cover. Just as it reached the tent’s entrance, the ground beneath its feet gave way. The soft snow collapsed, and it plunged into a pitch-black pitfall trap.

The pit wasn’t very deep, but as soon as the target fell in, it activated the pre-set freezing formation inside a metal column. An incredibly dense, icy mist immediately billowed out, instantly freezing the struggling creature solid.

“Finally caught one!” Tommy cheered, pumping his fist. He turned to the soldier next to him. “Inform the ground troops to keep forcing them into the camp. There are still two more trap locations… let’s not waste any opportunities!”

The Deputy quickly asked, “Chief, are we only capturing the monsters that use red magic? The ones with the black water tanks on their backs… there aren’t many of them left alive.”

Tommy pursed his lips and chuckled. “The ones that emit red light seem to be of a higher rank than the ones who control the black water. Capturing them is a guaranteed win. As for those black water creatures… try to keep the tanks on their backs intact. The liquid weapon inside is exactly what we need to study and analyze.”

Chapter 476: A Bountiful Return

The last of the frozen cages in the camouflaged camp was triggered when a panicked member of the non-human race, not looking where they were going, stepped wrong and fell right in.

“Chief, all three traps have been triggered. The remaining ones…”

Tommy shook his slightly dizzy head; the intense, short-term use of his bloodline talent had left him lightheaded. “Land… have the men clean up the battlefield quickly. We’re leaving for the base immediately!”

Though many non-human creatures had emerged from the ice cave, once the seven or eight red-light creatures were all dead or wounded, the ones who controlled the black water were unable to withstand the suppressive fire from dozens of Bloodline Warriors, coupled with precise sniping from the air… Soon, all of them had been shot in their vitals and lay dead upon the snow.

The soldiers rose from their snow trenches and cautiously approached the bodies of the slain enemies. They had been repeatedly warned before the operation not to damage the creatures’ strange outer skin, lest they trigger the corpses to self-destruct and harm themselves.

“These things with the skin coverings are disgusting…”

“What’s inside these greasy outer shells? Why is their blood red, just like ours?”

“Ugh… They smell even fouler than the vile orcs. Just as My lord City Lord said, they’re monsters from the sea!”

As soon as the Airship that participated in the battle landed, Tommy strode down and urged loudly, “Stop dawdling. Get the frozen cages out of the snow pits, pick a few relatively intact corpses, and all the undamaged black water tanks… We leave in half an hour.”

The Deputy came forward and asked, “Chief, what do we do with the corpses we can’t take and these supplies used to camouflage the camp?”

Tommy surveyed the messy camp, curled his lip, and said, “We can’t leave any clues for the enemy to observe and study. Shove everything, along with the corpses, into the collapsed ice cave. Throw the broken black water tanks in too, and burn it all!”

At dawn the next day, the Personal Guard, who had been away for a day and a night, returned to the ice sea exploration base, piloting two undamaged Airships. The ground team used alchemical beasts to drag three huge, sealed metal cylinders.

The base personnel and soldiers surrounded them, staring with curiosity and suspicion at the non-human corpses lying haphazardly on the cargo sleds.

“So these are the non-human race from the sea? The enemy we’ll face in the future?”

“They don’t look that different from us… They’re not even as big as the soldiers with half-orc blood in the army.”

“And they’re far less strong than the vile orcs. Ugh… so smelly. That’s one thing they have over the vile orcs.”

“Don’t talk nonsense!” someone reminded in a low voice. “The ones responsible for the capture mission were the City Lord’s Personal Guard. They’re all transcendent beings who’ve awakened their bloodline talents. Many of them were seriously injured, and I heard some even died.”

“Really! I don’t know what methods they used, but they must be very powerful… even Captain Tommy was hit.”

“They captured live ones in those three metal cylinders… Hmph, when the time comes, the Spellcaster masters will naturally study and interrogate them thoroughly and pry out all their weapon secrets.”

Harvey, who had arrived upon hearing the news, heard the crowd’s discussion and nodded with a satisfied smile.

The mission was a resounding success. The soldiers at the base had seen the rumored, terrifying non-human enemies with their own eyes—yet not a single one showed any fear. Instead, they displayed an unconscious confidence.

“My lord, the mission went quite smoothly,” Tommy said, seeking credit from Harvey with some pride. “We captured a target of a higher rank than the black water creatures, something Mr. Duncan and his team probably haven’t encountered before… You’ll definitely be interested!”

The live non-human monsters were naturally more fascinating than the dead ones. An increasing number of soldiers turned to gawk at the red-light creatures, frozen solid inside metal cages.

Evidently, the freezing formation was extremely powerful… After the personnel from the Academy of Sciences and the Alchemy Laboratory dismantled the cages, the three creatures, frozen in different poses, were laid out on laboratory carts, still completely frozen and utterly incapable of resistance.

Harvey frowned. “Strange. According to your description, these ones don’t even carry black water tanks and only attack by releasing that strange red light… They seem much weaker in combat than the black water creatures. Why would they need to be surrounded and protected?”

Chris and Benoit, who had rushed over upon being notified, were already eager to start. Rubbing their hands, they chuckled, “If you compare the black water creatures to Bloodline Warriors, then perhaps these red-light-releasing ones are the Spellcasters of their race…”

Harvey rolled his eyes in exasperation and reminded them, “When facing these non-human enemies, remember not to make assumptions by applying our usual Human ways of thinking and behavior. They are an intelligent species completely different from us.”

Right now, they had not even seen the enemies’ true faces, let alone their way of life, average lifespan, how their abilities evolved, their paths of advancement… and most importantly, their method of reproduction.

The red-light creatures appeared weaker than the black water creatures, with a relatively simple attack method. But there had to be an unknown truth behind their scarcity and their apparently higher status within their group—a truth Harvey would have to personally help research and uncover.

The late-arriving Arturo rushed up to Harvey and, before Chris could speak, said, “My lord, the Academy of Sciences requests to lead the research on these live specimens of the non-human race! Of course, we will also arrange for specialists to dissect the corpses… As you know, no one is better at handling corpses than a Necromancer.”

Chris finally snapped back to reality, realizing the Academy of Sciences was trying to snatch such an important research subject from the Alchemy Laboratory. He jumped up and shouted, “I object! A research task this important should naturally be handed over to our Alchemy Laboratory! You can have the corpses… but we can’t let you waste the live specimens with your reckless experiments!”

Back when they were researching the Demon experimental subjects and the bloodline enhancement potions, it was Chris who had led a group of alchemy apprentices to assist Harvey. He naturally had reason to seize the initiative now.

Harvey, however, uncharacteristically waved a hand, decisively rejecting their squabbling. He said in a deep voice, “Stop arguing. The research on this non-human race is extremely important. I want you to immediately form a joint research group, which I will personally lead.”

Tommy was stunned for a moment, then said in disbelief, “My lord… You, you plan to take these monsters back to Starfire City?”

Harvey nodded. “Correct. Haven’t you noticed the corpses? For any that were shot to death, once their outer shells were damaged, the bodies inside quickly showed signs of collapsing and shriveling. This indicates that their activity on land is extremely dependent on these strange outer shells. The first problem you need to solve right now… is how to ensure these three captured live specimens can be safely transported back to Starfire City.”

This was not like transporting freshly caught sea fish. Without understanding how their dehydration-induced death or self-destruct system was triggered, any reckless or careless action could lead to the live subjects’ sudden death. And trying to recapture more would be difficult, as they likely could not pull off the same trick twice.

This was just the first step. Next, Harvey planned to crack their life support systems and find a way to send them alive to the south… into the hands of the Federation, to directly prove to them the credibility of the rumors that the non-human enemies were about to attack.

Chapter 477: Outsiders

“Heavens! Is that the rumored train?”

The moment he stepped onto the docks of Grizzly Keep, Dave spotted a steel behemoth with thick white smoke billowing from its locomotive, slowly pulling in on the embankment not far from the pier.

Ever since the fighting in Goldshine City had subsided, the newly established City Hall began issuing a large number of recruitment notices. At the same time, it cunningly and forcibly annexed the farmlands of the nobles. The people of the “former capital,” who already had no land to farm, had to seek a livelihood. Those unwilling to stray far from home migrated to other nearby towns, while the more courageous and far-sighted… chose to accept the jobs offered by City Hall, leaving their homes to make a living in the barren lands.

Dave was one of the many in this great migration of workers heading north.

Compared to the others, who were filled with doubt and worry, he was more confident that moving to the Northern Realm would secure him a satisfactory job. His childhood friend, Benny, had even enlisted in the army in the barren lands, and it seemed the pay was quite handsome. Coming from him, the stories had to be true.

Of course, a penniless man like Dave couldn’t afford the travel expenses from Goldshine City to the Grizzly Bear Territory. To travel for free on the sailless ironclad ships provided by City Hall, he had to sign a contract in advance, agreeing to accept any work assignment. The cost of travel and food would be directly deducted from his first month’s salary.

Riding an ironclad ship was a rare and new experience in his life. The fleet, packed with people, departed from the old capital and reached Fengyuan City in just three days—a journey that used to take a week. After docking overnight, they continued north, sailing against the current…

Once the fleet passed through the river mouth at Three-Forks Town and officially entered the Grizzly Bear Territory, the entire Ralph River became incredibly busy. The vast majority of vessels traveling back and forth were strange, sailless iron ships. Chatting with the sailors, he learned that the ironclad ships were divided into military and civilian types, but all of them ran on mana, unaffected by wind direction or currents. Even in the depths of winter when the river froze, they could plow through the ice with impunity.

For an ordinary person like Dave, who had always lived near the capital, this was all too novel. It was truly something created in the fiefdom of a Mage Lord; mana could be applied to civilian use without passing through the hands of a noble Spellcaster.

And Dave, who had previously worked as a docker in Goldshine City, understood very well what such heavy river traffic meant. The number of people and goods being transported must be astonishing. Even during the busiest summer trade season in the old capital, it had never been this bustling.

It was clear just how prosperous the city in the Northern Realm, built upon the barren lands, truly was.

The promotional posters that City Hall had plastered on the streets and squares of the old capital were probably not self-aggrandizing boasts to deceive the populace, but the plain and simple truth.

A fellow traveler tugged at Dave, who was standing dazed on the dock. “Stop staring,” he urged. “Hurry and follow those officials from City Hall. I heard that to get to Starfire City… we have to switch to that strange, rumbling vehicle we just saw, the one spewing thick smoke. I think… they call it a train!”

Dave rolled his eyes in disdain. “I know it’s called a train! I heard the sailors from the Northern Realm mention it many times before I came.”

What he still couldn’t figure out, however, was how this behemoth—which looked like several iron boxes linked together and seemed to weigh a thousand tons—was supposed to carry them over the towering Spine of the Continent Mountains and safely to Starfire City in the Northern Realm.

The answer to this question finally became clear after he was ushered and herded by the City Hall officials to line up and board the “train.”

…

“Heavens! They… they actually dug through the Spine of the Continent Mountains and built such a deep tunnel for… for this train to pass through!”

Although the train carriage was fully enclosed, it still had several windows covered with canvas tarps for protection against the wind, set alongside the two rows of long benches. As the locomotive rumbled, pulling its carriages into the pitch-black mountain, Dave’s vision went dark. Then, several globes on the ceiling of the carriage slowly lit up with a soft white glow. He carefully lifted a corner of a window tarp and found the wind howling outside. By the faint light, he could vaguely make out the smooth stone walls of the mountain flying past.

This “train” was truly traveling through the inside of the Spine of the Continent Mountains!

This was what the officials called the “South-North Express Line,” which could take them from the border of the south to the barren lands in just half a day!

Like everyone else experiencing this for the first time, Dave stood gaping at the window, utterly speechless. The sailless ironclad ships had already been incredible enough, but now, a mountain-crossing train that was nothing short of a miracle was right before his eyes.

The immense noise and constant vibrations of the moving train, which caused some minor discomfort, were nothing compared to this miraculous and novel experience.

“Accepting the recruitment from the capital’s City Hall and coming to the barren lands to make a living was the wisest choice I’ve ever made,” Dave thought with a sigh of admiration. “Even if I go back home one day, at least I can say I’ve seen the world.”

As the packed carriage buzzed with excited discussion, the iron door at the end of the car suddenly slammed open. A man in a dark blue uniform, who called himself a train attendant, walked in pushing a light, two-wheeled cart.

“Make way, please! Tuck your feet in! Watch the wheels! Do not stick your head or hands out the window!” he shouted skillfully as he pushed the cart, his voice loud enough to cut through the noise of the train. “Motion sickness medicine! Anyone need motion sickness medicine? Take it orally, works immediately!”

Selling medicine on a train? Dave was taken aback. He turned and saw his fellow traveler’s young sister, pale and curled up in a corner of the carriage. She had been like that since they boarded the ship in the capital, unable to eat and vomiting from time to time. She was clearly not acclimatized, and perhaps had even unfortunately contracted Malaria…

He and his fellow villager exchanged a glance and shouted at the man in the blue uniform in unison, “Wait! Doctor! We need to buy medicine!”

The train attendant turned around, bewildered, and muttered, “I’m not a doctor. Do you need motion sickness medicine? Two gold yuan a pack. There are ten pills inside. One is enough each time you feel sick.”

Dave stammered, “Could you please take a look? This child’s symptoms… is it what you call motion sickness?”

The train attendant frowned and leaned in, briefly examining the listless child. He shook his head. “I’m really not a doctor, I can’t tell you what’s wrong with this child. You’ll have to take her to the infirmary after we arrive…”

He thought for a moment, then pulled a previously opened packet of motion sickness pills from his jacket pocket, tipped one out, and handed it to Dave. “Maybe it is just motion sickness. Have her take this and see if it helps.”

The villager quickly took the pill and, with some coaxing, managed to get the child to swallow it. After a moment… they saw the little girl’s color gradually return, and her spirits seemed to lift considerably.

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” Dave thanked him repeatedly. He and his fellow villager reached into their pockets and pulled out their only few poorly minted, slightly tarnished silver coins. “How much is this medicine?” he asked haltingly.

The train attendant pursed his lips, waved a hand dismissively, and turned to push his cart away.

“No charge. That was my own supply! Besides, your coins aren’t in circulation here… Remember to exchange them for gold yuan when you get to Starfire City.”

“Sigh, you outsiders truly are something else…”

Chapter 478: Entering the City

The train clattered to a slow stop at the Central Station. With a piercing screech of brakes, Dave and his fellow villager, who was leading his little sister by the hand, stumbled out of the car, jostled by the crowd.

Whooo—

Behind them, the massive metal train let out a long whistle, as if to extend a warm welcome to these newly arrived Outsiders.

“This… this is Starfire City?”

Gazing at the crowded and bustling scene, the newcomers were all stunned. None of them were country bumpkins from the middle of nowhere; they were from the area around the old capital. Before arriving, their expectations of Starfire City had mostly been based on the prosperity of Goldshine City.

But they had still underestimated this legendary city of the barren lands. The Central Station alone, where the train had stopped, covered a vast area, and the people coming and going were even more numerous than at the old capital’s busiest docks.

Besides the track their train had arrived on, two other sets of rails extended from different directions, indicating that the trains didn’t just run between Grizzly Keep and Starfire City.

The spacious platform was clearly divided. One side was for passengers boarding and disembarking, while the other was crowded with carts for loading and unloading cargo, along with many strangely shaped metal contraptions. Some resembled Camel-oxen or draft horses, while others had several mechanical legs.

“Look, those mechanical things are moving on their own! They… they’re even helping people haul cargo!”

“Heavens, are they alive? They look like they’re cast from iron!”

Dave stood on his toes, trying to peer over the crowd to get a better look at what those moving metal monsters were, but the loud shout of the leading municipal official cut through the noise.

“New immigrants from the old capital, gather here! I’ll be leading you to identity verification and registration. Don’t wander off from the group. If you leave the Central Station without identification, you’ll be arrested by the patrols in less than half an hour!”

Patrols? They arrest refugees without identification in the city… They must be similar to the City Defense patrols in the capital. I’d better not provoke them. I’ll have to be careful to avoid them in the future.

Dave thought to himself, his feet already moving with the main group toward the station’s main hall. Once inside, he saw that one side of the hall was lined with dozens of small, cubicle-like rooms. A group of City Hall officials in dark blue uniforms approached and instructed them to form long lines to enter the rooms one by one for identity verification and registration.

Dave looked at the line growing behind him; a quick glance told him there were more than a thousand people. To recruit and accommodate such a massive number of refugees at once… Even the relief ceremony held by the Cathedral of Splendor during the winter famine near the capital paled in comparison to this scene.

His fellow villager clutched his sister’s hand tightly and whispered nervously, “Dave, what are these little rooms and checkpoints for? Are they collecting an entry tax?”

His words were overheard by a uniformed official passing by, who quickly explained with enthusiasm, “There’s no such thing as an entry tax in Starfire City, and we certainly don’t collect a head tax… In fact, there are no overt taxes. Only after you find a job will City Hall deduct a tiny, insignificant amount from your salary as a tax.”

It wasn’t the usual extortion the City Guard used on Outsiders? It was real identity verification and registration!

Dave quickly gave his fellow villager a meaningful look. The man sighed in relief and put the money pouch he’d been clenching back inside his clothes.

A middle-aged official of clearly higher rank walked over, chuckled, and said, “There’s no need to worry. This is just the standard entry registration process. As long as you abide by the laws of the Northern Realm, no one will dare to extort a single penny from you.”

And it was just as he said. When it was Dave’s turn, the official in the small room in charge of verification, though looking extremely tired, had a mild attitude. After briefly asking about his hometown, surname, and past experiences, he stamped a blank card half the size of a palm. Then, without explanation, he had Dave prick his finger and smear a drop of blood on the card’s surface.

“This is your temporary identification card. Carry it with you at all times and don’t lose it. If you do… you must go to the City Hall identity registration office to get a replacement that very day. Otherwise, if the patrols do a spot check, you’ll likely be taken to the Police Department and locked up for a few days for nothing.”

Patrols again… Dave’s heart tightened. He clutched the card tightly in his palm, planning to put it in his innermost pocket later.

When he came out of the cubicle, many people who had also received their temporary identification cards were slowly gathering at the other end of the hall. On a makeshift platform, a blue-uniformed official was shouting explanations through a megaphone.

“Those with temporary identification cards can follow me shortly to the temporary housing apartments outside the East Gate. Someone will be there to arrange lodging for you.”

Many people’s eyes widened in surprised disbelief. “Arrange lodging… Is it, is it a place to live for free?”

“That’s right. All the promises made when we recruited you are valid! The free housing will be provided until one month after you officially start working. Likewise… free food will be supplied until you receive your first salary.”

The recruitment notice issued by Goldshine City’s City Hall wasn’t a crude trick to lure them to the Northern Realm… it was all true!

Dave was overjoyed. He huddled with his fellow villager and said, “This is great! I thought we’d have to find an alley or a spot under a bridge for the night and go looking for work tomorrow!”

“So that means… there are really jobs waiting for us? I heard the salary is generous, too!”

The crowd of people from the south, now gathered together, instantly shed the weariness and uncertainty of their long journey. They excitedly surrounded the municipal official, chattering all at once as they asked about the arrangements to come.

…

After the entire group of laborers from the capital had completed their identity registration, they were led by a dozen or so blue-uniformed officials. Forming a long, straggling line, they slowly walked out of the Central Station. The temporary housing apartments, like the Central Station, were built outside Starfire City’s East Gate, so strictly speaking, they weren’t inside the city proper.

But upon reaching the temporary housing area, Dave and the others were once again struck speechless by the sight…

It wasn’t the simple, dilapidated shelters they had expected. Instead, they saw rows of two-story gray buildings, constructed densely right up against the base of the city wall. There were even proper drainage ditches dug in front of the houses, and the intersecting roads were paved with compacted cobblestones.

This was no different from the homes of wealthy families in the capital’s inner city. The only possible criticism… was perhaps that the color was too monotonous and the design wasn’t elaborate enough.

“Brother Dave, can we really live in a house like this?” his villager’s young sister asked timidly, tugging on the corner of Dave’s clothes.

Before Dave could answer, a loud voice boomed from a nearby megaphone.

“The back of your temporary identification card is marked with a corresponding house number! If you can’t read… you can ask any City Hall official for help. I will be back tomorrow morning to inform you about going into the city to sign your employment contracts!”

The scene was a chaotic bustle. Almost everyone could faintly smell the aroma of food wafting through the air… At a nearby street intersection stood a semi-open-air shop, with a large wooden sign hanging above it.

An Outsider who could barely read squinted at the sign, unconsciously murmuring the words aloud.

“Temporary… Housing Area… Relief… Mess Hall…”

Chapter 479: Live Specimen Testing

The non-human race captives captured at the ice sea exploration base were quickly and safely sent to Starfire City via the long-range teleportation array.

To ensure the safety of the upcoming series of live experiments, Harvey specifically cleared out the underground laboratory of the castle, reserving more than half of the area for the experiments. After all, having absorbed the ancient Magic Core, he now possessed the special ability to control the Energy-devouring beetles in the underground ore veins, enough to command hundreds of thousands of the massive magical energy insects to suppress most experimental accidents.

The Dean of the Academy of Sciences, the head of the experiment group, and the two Chiefs of the Alchemy Laboratory were almost all present. Infirmary Director Egnor also dropped his magic potion research and development experiments to rush over… Even if they weren’t personally participating in the experiment, most of Starfire City’s upper echelons didn’t want to miss the opportunity to observe the enemy up close.

Since the captured live specimen was not the anticipated black water creature, but a brand-new “species” that didn’t carry black water weapon canisters at all and purely controlled and released strange red light for its attacks, Harvey and the others had to change their prepared experimental procedures at the last minute.

The live captives were kept in a frozen state throughout their transport into the laboratory. For safety, Egnor then personally administered a large dose of anesthetic, and their limbs and neck were tightly bound to the experimental table with clasps and shackles forged from hard Phantomlight Copper.

By the time Harvey arrived at the Laboratory, Egnor, along with two half-elf apprentices, was cautiously performing the most basic diagnostic tests.

This was Harvey’s first time seeing this strange non-human race, which matched the descriptions, up close. Indeed, like humans, it had four limbs, a torso, and a head, but its physique was noticeably more slender. Its joints appeared slightly swollen and twisted, indicating a more flexible range of motion for its limbs… No wonder it possessed formidable close-combat capabilities comparable to a Bloodline Warrior.

The coarse, seamless hide covering its entire body was what Harvey focused on. Not only could it resist damage from most magical attacks, but even ordinary slashes from swords and axes could hardly break it. Only a kinetic weapon like a Magical Energy Gun bullet, with its ultra-high velocity and strong penetrating power, could pierce through it…

He had also personally inspected the dozen or so corpses brought back. They had indeed been killed when vital areas like the head and chest were pierced. However, once the hide was damaged, the internal flesh and blood were quickly exposed to the air, turning into a rotten, foul-smelling black pus that flowed out from the bullet holes.

Hearing that the Personal Guard had seen bright red flesh and blood spray out after piercing the hide during the capture operation, he could at least rest assured that the opponent was a carbon-based lifeform, just like them.

“My lord, look! These dark red sacs on both sides of its head are clearly a natural part of its body, not attached after putting on the hide…” Although Egnor had seen much during his time in Araye, this was his first time handling such an unprecedented live non-human specimen. His voice couldn’t help but tremble with excitement.

“Even though it’s been frozen by a spell, these two sacs are still pulsating slowly and rhythmically… I suspect these are its respiratory organs, similar to our lungs!”

Harvey raised his hand and gently pressed it against the frozen specimen’s chest. After a moment, he shook his head and said, “You can’t call them lungs… I’m afraid these are gills!”

Chris leaned in and exclaimed in surprise, “Gills? Could they be a variant of the Sea-folk?”

Arturo shook his head. “We’ve had dealings with the Sea-folk… The Sea-folk, like the half-orcs, are a humanoid race. Their body structure is no different from ours. At most, because they spend their whole lives in the sea, they have some fleshy webbing between their fingers and toes to help with swimming… The Sea-folk live on islands and reefs; they don’t have gills.”

Harvey turned to Egnor and asked, “Have you noticed that its body temperature is very low?”

Egnor nodded, pointed to the notebook in his hand, and said in a grave voice, “Indeed. Although it’s unclear if the hide is blocking its body heat, its surface is ice-cold to the touch… almost like a cold-blooded animal!”

For a moment, all Harvey could think of were certain ancient amphibians, like giant lizards. A low body temperature indicated a slower metabolism, which in a way meant they were extremely adaptable to their environment. This was likely one of the main reasons they could adapt to both the frozen depths of the sea and life on land.

Similarly… freezing couldn’t kill them completely; at most, it could only put them into a temporary slumber.

Chris rubbed his hands together, exchanged a look with Arturo, and said excitedly, “We won’t get any useful answers from mere observation… My lord, should we proceed with the dissection now?”

Egnor grabbed him and shook his head desperately. “Be careful! Once the hide is broken, the subject will die quickly upon exposure to the air, and its internal body will rot away… We only have three live specimens!”

“How do they communicate?” Harvey’s thoughts jumped from one thing to another. He suddenly turned to his Captain of the personal guard.

“These things are like mutes. Whether moving or fighting, they don’t make any sound at all… We have no way of knowing if they even have a language,” Tommy replied with a frown.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to thaw it and let it wake up slowly…” Harvey said slowly.

…

The Personal Guard immediately brought in dozens of massive stainless steel protective shields, proactively setting them up around the experimental table, primarily to separate Harvey from the specimen. Everyone present was unanimously against Harvey personally participating in the experiment. Entrusting the task of waking the target to the two alchemical lifeforms, Arturo and Astaren, was clearly the safest choice.

Harvey had no choice but to comply. Surrounded by personal guards holding giant shields, he was escorted away from the experimental area. At the same time, he sent out a portion of his mental energy to control an experimental alchemical beast, moving it slowly closer to observe the awakening target’s reaction up close through the alchemical beast’s vision.

After the area was cleared, Harvey gave the command from a distance, “Begin.”

“Yes!” The two alchemical lifeforms nodded in unison. They took the awakening potion provided by Egnor and gently inserted the needle into the dark red sacs behind the creature’s ears. This was the only part of its body exposed outside the hide, allowing them to inject the drug without piercing the skin.

In less than ten minutes, everyone noticed the target subject’s previously somewhat shriveled sacs suddenly inflate and bulge. Then, the target seemed to fully awaken. Its body went from uncontrollable light tremors to a violent struggle, its strength so great that it slammed the entire experimental table, making it clang loudly.

“It’s still just flesh and blood. Without mana to command, there’s no way it can break free from the shackles forged of Phantomlight Copper…”

Before Arturo could finish his sentence, the target’s dark, coarse body suddenly thrashed with all its might. Countless tiny, worm-like red lights appeared on the surface of its hide, finally twisting and converging… into a red bolt of lightning as thick as an arm, which blasted towards the laboratory ceiling.

The sturdy laboratory ceiling, constructed of obsidian, was as solid as a rock. It only shed a few specks of dust after being struck by the massive bolt of lightning. However, the exploding plasma fell back to the ground, striking the three alchemical lifeforms standing beside the experimental table—including the humanoid alchemical beast Harvey was controlling.

The magical inscriptions all over their three bodies suddenly flared brightly, and their bodies began to tremble uncontrollably… Arturo, who was closest, staggered and fell heavily to the ground. Astaren grabbed the alchemical beast controlled by Harvey and took several steps back before steadying himself.

“How is Dean Arturo!” everyone cried out in alarm.

Astaren quickly went forward to check on him. He let out a sigh of relief before turning his head and saying, “He’s fine. It seems some kind of unknown energy flow struck his power core. He’s just in overheating-induced hibernation for now…”

Chapter 480: Autopsy Report

A few personal guards rushed forward and费力dragged Arturo, who had been struck by the red lightning, over to the energy-gathering array. With practiced ease, they connected a charging conduit to him. Several minutes passed before the unlucky Dean of the Academy of Sciences slowly regained consciousness.

“What a powerful ability impact…” Arturo said, murmuring in embarrassment as he stood up.

“This lightning-like energy attack poses a huge threat to soldiers of flesh and blood, but it’s powerless against an alchemical body forged from enchanted metal… though it has left you with quite a few marks.” Harvey walked over and pointed to the mottled scratches on both Arturo’s and Astaren’s alchemical bodies.

Chris, however, boldly stepped out from behind his reinforced steel shield. “This thing struggled for so long just to squeeze out one attack? Isn’t that a bit too weak?” he asked, puzzled.

Everyone quickly turned their gazes back to the live non-human specimen strapped to the experimental table. They noticed that its struggles had weakened considerably, and the rapidly swelling sacs on the sides of its head had shrunk back down. It seemed even weaker than when it was frozen.

“Does releasing the red lightning consume its life force… or some kind of energy it relies on to live?” Astaren speculated.

Harvey nodded in agreement. “That’s likely the case. If they could release the red light freely without any limits, they wouldn’t have been captured alive.”

In comparison, the other non-human creatures, who were more adept at close combat and possessed the terrifying liquid weapon that was the black water, were clearly more powerful… So why did these red-light creatures seem to hold a higher rank?

Chris was clearly thinking the same thing as Harvey. He frowned and muttered to himself, “If you compare the black water men to Bloodline Warriors, and the red-light men to Spellcasters…”

A thought flashed through Harvey’s mind, and he blurted it out, “Unless the liquid weapon the black water men rely on can only be created by these Spellcaster-like red-light men…”

Then it would all make sense!

He immediately called for an apprentice to bring over the black water weapon canister they had brought back, handing it over to Chris and Benoit, who were more skilled in material analysis. They cleared an experimental table and began extracting and testing a sample on the spot…

“It’s not an extract from a magical mineral… nor does it contain any components of demonic plants…”

“There’s not even any active substance in it… How do those black water men control it to form crystalline weapons at will?”

“Wait! This liquid reacts to mana!”

Benoit suddenly shouted in excitement, beckoning everyone to gather around. They watched as he took a drop of viscous black liquid from the canister and slowly brought it near the liquid magical energy that was always kept in the Laboratory. Almost instantly… the black liquid shot towards the liquid magical energy like iron drawn to a magnet.

It smoothly mixed in, and then its color gradually faded until it had completely merged with the clear magical energy.

“I think I know how the exploration team was tracked and monitored by these non-humans back then…” Harvey said with a flash of understanding, patting Benoit on the shoulder.

This black water, which could be shaped into various hard, crystalline weapons, had a natural attraction to mana!

The more intensely the mana fluctuated, the more it would stand out to their senses, like a flame attracting moths in the dead of night.

“My lord, look! This one’s not going to make it!” Egnor, who had been monitoring the experimental subject, called out loudly.

Harvey hurried over to check. The red-light creature had completely stopped struggling. The deep red sacs behind its ears had shriveled into withered balls of flesh, no longer even twitching faintly.

The energy they used to release their red-light attacks was not something they possessed naturally… It required repeated replenishment, like charging a battery. Once it was overdrawn and completely depleted, it meant their life was fading away with it.

Having reached this conclusion, Harvey breathed a long sigh of relief.

“Let the four of you—Chris, Egnor, Benoit, and Arturo—preside over the autopsy of the deceased subject…”

The moment he finished speaking, Chris, who had been itching to start, beat Arturo to it, taking the chief surgeon’s position at the experimental table, unable to hide the joy on his face.

The non-human outpost dispatched from the legendary continental heartland to the frozen tundra of the ice sea was clearly a low-level combat force sent to scout the way, not much different from Harvey’s own ordinary soldiers who came from commoner backgrounds.

And as the basic fighting force of their race, these non-humans did not possess weapons technology or personal abilities far superior to his own. Both the black water used as a melee weapon and the long-range red-light lightning could be effectively blocked by relatively sturdy shields.

In fact, the red-light lightning was even less powerful than a large-caliber sniper Magical Energy Gun. At the same distance, the latter could easily pierce a steel-cast shield, its penetrating power clearly superior.

If it ever came to a direct confrontation between the armies of the two races, Harvey felt that within a range of one thousand meters, his firearms enhanced with magical Science would be more than enough to shatter these non-human enemies in their magic-resistant hides. Their red-light lightning was clearly no match for magical energy cannons with strike ranges of thousands of meters. As for their thrown attacks with black crystalline spikes and spears, they would have to enter the effective range of rifles and machine guns to be used—and by then, they would have been torn to shreds by a dense, rain-like barrage of fire.

At this thought, Harvey decided he would immediately order another expansion of the munitions factory and drastically increase the production of ammunition for the magical energy guns and cannons!

As long as his firepower was fierce and plentiful enough, all fear of the unknown would be easily overcome!

The lights in the Laboratory beneath the castle burned all night. By the time the sky began to lighten, Harvey, who had been lying in bed unable to sleep, received the experimental report just on time.

This freshly completed autopsy report left him utterly astonished—the liquid weapon so nimbly controlled by the black water men was very likely converted from the blood in the bodies of the red-light men!

“How is that possible?” Harvey’s mouth fell slightly agape as he looked at Chris and the others, who were famished from pulling an all-nighter and were now wolfing down food at the dining table to regain their strength. “Using their own blood as a weapon? Is this race insane?”

Astaren and Arturo, who didn’t require food, sat to one side. Arturo patiently explained to Harvey, “We found it incredible too, but the results of the autopsy point almost certainly to this answer… They are indeed beings of flesh and blood, but they have two circulatory systems inside their bodies. One stores a bright red fluid, just like us humans, while the other is filled with nothing but viscous black water…”

Harvey felt a bit dizzy. The amphibious non-human race he had imagined… was not this kind of amphibious form that completely defied common sense and was a complete slap in the face to evolutionary theory!

“It’s a shame these things don’t have a language… Otherwise, I’d love to find a way to pry their mouths open and learn about their race’s methods of reproduction and evolution,” Chris mumbled, his mouth full of buttery fried eggs, completely disregarding his image.

Astaren, however, shook his head in disagreement. “It’s impossible for a race of intelligent beings not to have evolved written and spoken language. I believe they may not use what we consider ‘speech’ to communicate… perhaps it’s something more akin to the communication methods of birds, beasts, fish, or even insects.”

Benoit looked bewildered. “But they should still make some sound! Look, we cut it open from top to bottom… and it was as quiet as a mute.”

Even a mute would know how to wail…

Chapter 481: The Demonic Lizardmen

It took less than a day for the three live non-human specimens captured and brought back to be “used up”—one of them, at least—by the research fanatics of the Alchemy Laboratory and the Academy of Sciences.

In the end, even the dismembered corpse was taken back to the Academy of Sciences by the still-unsatisfied Necromancers. There, along with the other black water non-human corpses that had been transported back, it would continue to contribute its last ounce of value to the traditional research of the necromancy school of casting.

After just half a week, in-depth research reports as thick as a palm flew like snowflakes onto Harvey’s desk.

The non-human race, officially designated “Demonic Lizardmen,” was temporarily divided into two different combat types: “Red Lizardmen” and “Black Lizardmen,” distinguished by whether they were creators or wielders of the black water weapons.

Furthermore, the experimental reports submitted to Harvey after dissection and slicing indicated that although the Demonic Lizardmen had a humanoid build, the bones and muscles beneath their skin were significantly stronger than those of an ordinary human. While the outer hide offered decent protection against magical attacks, its internal flesh would quickly rot and dissolve if the skin was breached. Close-combat attacks with sharp, hard weapons could clearly still affect the body within, forcing them to rely on their race’s formidable physical prowess to negate the damage.

At the same time, besides possessing two separate circulatory systems, the Demonic Lizardmen also had digestive and respiratory systems that were markedly different from other intelligent races. No undigested food could be extracted from the sac-like organ resembling a stomach, only a small amount of highly concentrated salt crystals. This made Harvey highly suspect that not only could they live in the sea for extended periods, but their food source was also likely tied to the bone-chillingly cold ice sea.

Perhaps they didn’t prey on the creatures of the sea… it was highly possible that minerals and plants were their staple food.

What surprised Harvey was that the combined efforts of the Alchemy Laboratory and the Academy of Sciences had failed to determine the origin of the strange hide that enveloped the Demonic Lizardmen’s entire bodies.

“Through extensive testing, we can only confirm that this hide is highly resistant to magic and can perfectly seal out air and water… Scorching it with fire at most dries its surface, but it does not reduce it to ash.”

“We highly suspect that this is the hide of some powerful, as-yet-undiscovered magical creature that exists in the deep sea.”

Harvey closed the report, pinching the bridge of his nose with a headache. “Without being able to communicate with the live captives, this is all the information we can gather.”

Seeing this, Chris, who had been giving his report in a serious tone, cautiously ventured, “My lord… there are still two live specimens…”

Harvey immediately looked up and cut him off. “Leave at least one alive. Find a way to extend the freezing time. I want to send it to Araye!”

Arturo and Rainer could no longer sit still. They both stood up to dissuade him. “My lord, such a precious live non-human specimen and the intelligence it represents… are you just going to hand it over to the Federation for free? We spent countless efforts to obtain it.”

“It’s fine. I will make them offer a satisfactory price,” Harvey said, waving his hand. “Although my intention is to bind the Federation completely to our war chariot, they still have to pay every last cent of the price they owe.”

Since Harvey had explicitly stated that one must be kept alive, the single remaining live non-human specimen immediately became a vital resource fiercely contested by several of Starfire City’s research groups.

The Academy of Sciences, founded on a cornerstone of Necromancers who had changed their school of casting, was naturally more interested in the Demonic Lizardman’s body beneath its hide, which was so different from a human’s. Meanwhile, the Alchemy Laboratory, which had always focused on weapon development, was interested in the hide itself, which was immune to magic and impervious to fire and water.

As for the magic potion research group from the Territory’s Infirmary… they refused no one, and wished they could drain every last drop of bodily fluid from the dead experimental subject.

However, as soon as a Demonic Lizardman awakened from its frozen state, it would immediately engage in an unstoppable act of self-destruction. This left Astaren, who wanted to study their race’s culture and psyche, completely helpless. Without communication, there was no way to learn the specific location of their people, ascertain their population size… much less know how they reproduced or why they had chosen to invade human territory to the south.

Unfortunately, prolonged freezing could not indefinitely extend the Demonic Lizardmen’s lives. After all, like humans, they were carbon-based lifeforms that needed to eat to replenish their bodies’ essential energy. Unable to eat for so long, even with an extremely slow metabolism, they would inevitably and irreversibly wither toward death.

While the last remaining live specimen was still relatively “fresh,” and to prevent infighting among his various research departments, Harvey threw out another joint research task: an experiment to test the Demonic Lizardman’s vulnerability to other means of attack besides magical energy weapons!

“We know our Magical Energy Guns and cannons can inflict fatal damage on them… With their hides, they are immune to magic and ordinary swords. But that’s far from enough. Try poison potions, contagious diseases like the Rotting Plague—bioweapons.”

Faced with such a bizarre, powerful, and completely unknown non-human enemy, aside from the firepower brought by his firearms, Harvey’s first thought was naturally of “unconscionable” bioweapons. After all, with his abilities, it was unlikely he could just whip up a heaven-defying trump card like a nuclear bomb. To achieve mass destruction of the enemy, he could still go down the path of metaphysical plagues enhanced with magical effects.

Just as everyone was about to leave, he slapped his forehead as if suddenly remembering something and quickly added, “I just remembered, it seems we still have a few low-ranking Priests locked up in the prison!”

Astaren paused for a moment, then said in confusion, “A few cowardly holy rollers who renounced their faith out of fear… they were spared from hanging because they confessed the Church’s crimes. Keeping them alive is a waste of food. The Police Department was planning to send them to the logging camps for a life of hard labor after the autumn harvest.”

Harvey nodded and said seriously, “Go get them from their cells. Have them try attacking with divine arts.”

Arturo and Chris immediately showed expressions of confusion, speaking in unison, “Divine arts?”

If the enemy was immune even to magic but couldn’t withstand divine arts… wouldn’t that be a blatant slap in the face to all Spellcasters? Could the power of the gods, as proclaimed by the Luminous Theocracy, truly surpass the infinite mana that symbolized the ultimate truth and wisdom?

Harvey looked at their strange expressions, immediately understood what they were thinking, and explained with a smile, “This isn’t to verify whether magic or divine arts are stronger, but to figure out another long-standing historical question that has plagued all Spellcasters…”

If Humans were the losers of a struggle in ancient times, driven out from the continental heartland and exiled to the south, then these Demonic Lizardmen might very well have been the main culprits who defeated humanity back then. Their weapons and defenses would naturally be specifically tailored to counter the magic that Humans had passed down through the ages…

But the Luminous Theocracy was founded only after Humans established themselves in the south. If their divine arts truly came from the gods they proclaimed… then the Demonic Lizardmen’s protective hide could not possibly withstand their attacks completely.

Unless… the Source of divine arts also came from mana!

In that case, the god they revered and believed in… could it be some being from ancient times who had risen above the Legendary-rank, a magical demigod who had completely transcended the very plane of life!

Chapter 482: The Northern Realm, A Hard Place to Settle

Outside the East Gate of Starfire City, in the temporary housing area.

Only the last sliver of the sun’s afterglow remained on the mountain peaks, dyeing the towering city walls close by and the churning Icefield River in the distance a brilliant gold.

From the several Relief Mess Halls set up at street intersections in the temporary housing area, the enticing aroma of food began to waft out right on time.

“It’s wheat porridge… but they definitely added meat. I can smell meat!” Dave, who had worked hard all day, couldn’t help but swallow hard.

His fellow townsman, who had rushed back to the refugee apartment before him, was already standing in the food line. Seeing Dave’s late arrival, he jumped up and waved his arms frantically, “Dave! Dave! Over here!”

Dave hunched his shoulders and squeezed his way to the front. Although cutting in line like this was likely to anger the crowd, most people would just mutter a few curses or give him a shove; it wouldn’t escalate into a full-blown fight.

This was because no matter how far back in the line you were, the Relief Mess Hall always guaranteed that everyone received enough food. The staff distributing the meals would even give an extra portion to those with a robust build who did heavy physical labor.

Since everyone could eat their fill, there was no need to resort to violence. Whether in the city or the housing area, you could always see those half-man, half-machine monsters—the terrifying beings known as the patrols.

Just a few days ago, Dave had personally witnessed a man from Fengyuan City, who had arrived a week after them, try to harass a young woman who had fled from Black Mountain Port after getting off work in the evening. The girl’s terrified screams had barely faded when a patrol shot out from the street corner, swung a fearsome metal arm, and slammed the lust-addled, unlucky man to the ground.

Dave, watching the spectacle from a whole street away, heard the chilling sound of the man’s arm breaking with perfect clarity. His arm was probably ruined for good.

Yes, harassing or molesting an innocent person—even a low-status foreign refugee—was a crime punishable by imprisonment in Starfire City. If you were caught in the act, cooperating quietly might only get you a broken arm.

But if you committed a serious crime like rape, you’d spend the rest of your life in a sunless mine pit.

Starfire City’s laws were said to treat everyone equally, regardless of their status. From the City Lord’s Steward at City Hall down to the newest refugees from other lands, anyone who broke the local laws would be arrested by the Police Department and sent to the Justice Department for trial. The final judgment would even be regularly posted in the main square in front of City Hall as a warning and reassurance to the city’s populace.

Although Dave was an illiterate mud-legs, he knew that robbery, murder, theft, and rape were undoubtedly serious crimes that must never be committed. In addition, an open display of the Church’s faith was also strictly forbidden within the city. As for the rest of the laws, he either couldn’t understand them or couldn’t remember them. To avoid breaking the law out of ignorance, ever since he received his work contract, he had maintained a simple, routine life, shuttling only between the factory and the temporary housing area outside the East Gate, and never wandering aimlessly around the city.

He didn’t even dare to casually contact Benny, the childhood friend from his hometown he was always thinking about, who was serving in the Northern Army. He was afraid that if he trespassed on the Military Barracks looking for someone, he’d be branded a spy trying to gather military intelligence.

Aside from his naturally cautious and meticulous personality, there was a more important reason for living so carefully—the job he had now offered pay and benefits that were simply too generous.

Dave still remembered the first day he was led into the city, to a sprawling workshop complex not far from the East Gate, where he waited nervously for what the municipal official called an “interview.”

After being rejected several times for being illiterate and short, he had nearly lost all hope. Who would have thought that upon arriving at a workshop called the “Vegetable Canning Factory,” he would be lucky enough to be chosen by the workshop’s manager?

The work wasn’t the back-breaking labor he had imagined. Instead, he stood beside a long, self-moving metal track, placing red and green labels on large tin cans.

He would stand and work for two hours, then get a fifteen-minute break. After that, he would move to another metal track and work for another two hours. That was the entire morning’s work. It was followed by an unbelievable one-hour lunch break, and in the afternoon, he could even sit on a high stool to do the same labeling work he did in the morning.

What was the difference between this and getting paid to lie around and do nothing!

What’s more, the work contract clearly stated a monthly salary of sixty gold yuan. After deducting his travel expenses to the north and the cost of food and lodging, he would still have at least fifty gold yuan left.

Dave wasn’t sure about the exchange rate between gold yuan and ordinary silver and copper coins, so after work, a kind local coworker took him to the Public Market not far from the factory.

The rye bread commonly eaten by the common folk in the south was nowhere to be found in the market. Instead, higher-quality barley bread cost only one gold yuan for two pounds, enough to fill the belly of a manual laborer who spent all day hauling heavy sacks at the docks.

Unbelievably, pork was one and a half gold yuan, and smoked pork was two. Higher-quality fresh meats like chicken, duck, beef, and mutton were mostly priced under five. Because of the city’s proximity to the Icefield River, fish was especially cheap. He heard that during the peak salmon season in the dead of winter, fresh, live fish at the Public Market were practically given away!

His coworker even led him through the processed food shops, which were bustling with people and doing booming business. He thoughtfully told Dave that with his salary, he could afford to treat himself to one of the most expensive items each month—be it seafood from the south, game from the barren lands, locally crafted fine wine, or processed foods with rare spices—without needing to be too frugal.

This was more than enough to leave Dave—who was used to a life of feast or famine, eating black bread in summer and autumn and gnawing on bran cakes in winter and spring—completely flabbergasted, his mouth hanging wide open.

Just by working a month in the workshop, half-standing and half-sitting while labeling cans, he could live like an ordinary middle-class resident of the capital. If he hadn’t made the long journey to get here, he would have thought he was suffering from some delirious malady.

His coworker seemed used to the sight of country bumpkins like him who had traveled from the distant south. The more shocked and amazed Dave was, the wider the man’s smile grew, as if he took great pride and pleasure in Dave’s reaction.

As they parted ways, the coworker patted the shoulder of Dave, who was completely lost in his joy, and said gently, “Filling your belly is the first priority. But if you don’t want to live outside the city forever, crammed six people into a space less than ten square meters, sleeping on hard bunk beds… you have to work hard and try to become a permanent employee as soon as possible. Once you get a permanent work contract, you can apply at City Hall to move into the city.”

The coworker’s words echoed in Dave’s ears like the tempting whisper of a Devil, “Even the worst housing in the city is at least a two-bedroom, single-story house, about twenty to thirty square meters, with a bedroom, a living room, a washroom, and a small kitchen… For a rent of less than half your salary, you can live there in bliss…”

Chapter 483: An Archives Management Talent

Filled with hope and joy, Dave spent his first month in the Northern Realm working diligently at the cannery.

When he received the envelope containing his salary from the director, he couldn’t help but feel his eyes redden. His life had changed dramatically over the past month. He no longer had to hole up in a dilapidated shack in the slums of the old capital, worrying about where his next meal would come from the moment he opened his eyes.

Although he couldn’t recognize the characters and symbols on the thin banknotes, the count was correct. A salary of sixty gold yuan—six banknotes in total. There was no blatant exploitation, no secret deductions, no malicious delays in payment. Even the payday was exactly as promised in the work contract he had signed.

He had truly taken the first step toward the better life he had imagined.

The free refugee apartment was only available for one month. After all, a constant stream of new migrants would continue to pour into Starfire City. It wasn’t just the reception area at the East Gate; even the new one by the Southwest Gate was facing a housing shortage.

Next, he would take the permanent employment slip signed by his director and go to City Hall himself to apply for a city residence permit. At the same time, through the Housing Rental Management Department, he could rent a small single-person apartment for about fifteen gold yuan.

His monthly salary was sixty gold yuan, with extra subsidies for overtime on rush jobs. After paying for rent and food, he could save at least thirty gold yuan a month. If everything went smoothly, he could save up for the down payment on the cheapest one-bedroom apartment in a year at most.

A local co-worker who had been looking out for him had told him about this installment plan for permanent residents. From the moment he found out, Dave’s heart had burned with an incessant, fervent desire.

He yearned so desperately for a home of his own…

With a heart pounding with nervousness and excitement, Dave knocked on the cannery director’s office door. He cautiously requested half a day off tomorrow so he could go to City Hall to handle his residence permit.

The director was a slightly heavyset, middle-aged local. Hearing the request, he smiled and pulled a pre-prepared approval slip from under his desk. He slipped it into an envelope along with a sheet of paper with a few short lines written on it and handed it to Dave.

“Give this letter of recommendation and your permanent employment permit to the City Hall official who assists you tomorrow,” the director said as he passed the envelope, adding an extra instruction. “After you’ve sorted out your residence permit and housing rental, don’t forget to apply for the Night Literacy School! Dave, literacy is an essential skill that everyone in Starfire City should learn.”

Dave took the envelope reflexively, nodding in a bit of a daze. “Thank you, director! I’ll be sure to go to the Literacy School, but… what’s a letter of recommendation?”

The director winked mysteriously and chuckled. “It’s an evaluation of your performance during your one-month probationary period, of course!”

…

As he rarely wandered around the city, the illiterate Dave woke up early the next day. He asked for directions along the way and was kindly guided by local residents to the entrance of City Hall.

Stepping into the main hall, he discovered that the unremarkable two-story concrete and stone building was incredibly spacious inside. The reception hall, several hundred square meters in size, was buzzing with voices. Countless people bustled back and forth, carrying files and materials. Residents who had come to inquire about or handle various matters were lined up in orderly queues before windows with different signs hanging above them.

Seeing him standing nervously at the entrance, a receptionist approached to ask what he needed and quickly led him to the window for the Population Management Department. Just as Dave was about to dutifully get in at the back of the long line, the sharp-eyed receptionist caught sight of the envelope clutched tightly in his hand… and the red seal stamped on it.

A Talent Recommendation Application? The receptionist muttered to themself, then reached out to stop Dave, speaking in a gentle voice, “Sir, please come with me to the office. Your residence permit and identity verification will be processed over here…”

Clem, the Deputy Director of the Population Management Department, pushed open the door and walked in hurriedly. “A talent recommended by the Canned Food Processing Plant? What special skills? A noble from the south? Why wasn’t I informed beforehand?”

He fired off a rapid series of questions, startling the receptionist and the administrative official sitting in the office. They quickly replied, “A commoner who migrated from the old capital. His special skill… they say his memory is very good… practically a photographic memory…”

Clem pursed his lips, his expression a little displeased. “Since we enacted the territory-wide talent recommendation policy, we’ve received so many exaggerated applications. Don’t you all know to verify them beforehand?”

With that, he turned to look at Dave, who was shrinking back timidly. He pointed a finger at a thick pile of documents on the desk. “I’ll give you fifteen minutes. Can you memorize all the data in this file?”

Dave had no idea what a Talent Recommendation Application was, nor did he understand why so many unexpected things were happening after being mysteriously pulled into this room. Wasn’t he just here to apply for a residence permit? Why had he suddenly angered these esteemed officials?

He swallowed hard and said with difficulty, “Esteemed officials, I… I can’t read.”

Clem took a deep breath, just about to lose his temper, when the administrative official quickly interjected to explain, “The factory director said in his letter that it only took him half a day to memorize the locations of several dozen types of cans corresponding to different labels… He can firmly remember the type, name, weight, and production date of each one.”

The job of labeling canned food was indeed simple and tedious. The only reason alchemical beasts weren’t used to replace human labor was that they couldn’t distinguish between the different varieties of cans corresponding to the labels.

With the rapid development of the territory’s food industry, the variety of cans sent from the processing plant each day was immense. For ease of sale, transport, and storage, even the same ingredient would be packed into cans of different sizes according to weight. Not to mention the portion of canned goods for “export,” which required strict labeling of production batches and dates to prevent spoilage from long-term storage.

A skilled worker who had been doing this job for a long time would naturally be familiar with it. Even if they occasionally forgot something, they could quickly check it against a label catalog. But Dave was completely illiterate. By relying solely on memorizing the patterns, colors, and shapes of the words on each label, he had managed to get the hang of it in an extremely short time and had gone through his entire probationary month without a single mistake.

This was, without a doubt, a talent that far surpassed that of an ordinary person.

After hearing the explanation, Clem was skeptical. He had someone bring out a thick stack of professional information registration cards, which were shuffled and spread out in front of Dave. He found that Dave, despite being completely illiterate, was able to neatly put them all back in the file box in the correct order, relying only on his memory of the word shapes and the seal patterns on the cards. He didn’t even make a single mistake with the numbering.

The administrative official leaned in close to Clem’s ear and suggested quietly, “Isn’t this kind of person with a photographic memory exactly the talent our newly established Archives Management Department is short of?”

“But he can’t read at all!” the receptionist who first discovered the talent muttered, making Dave’s face flush crimson with embarrassment.

Clem slapped his forehead and said decisively, “If he can’t read, he can learn! With a mind as sharp as his, learning to read shouldn’t take much effort…”

With that, he dropped his formal demeanor and asked Dave, who was looking completely bewildered, in a gentle tone, “Would you be willing to be transferred from the cannery to work in the City Hall Archives Department? Of course, before that, we will send you to the Territorial Public Academy… for a month of literacy education.”

Dave had no idea what archives management was, but it seemed to have something to do with his good memory… otherwise, he certainly wouldn’t have been considered for the job.

He mustered his courage and asked cautiously, “Then… what is the monthly salary for archives management?”

Chapter 484: A Nominal Call to Surrender

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Three consecutive shells flew from the muzzles of the magical-powered cannon, shooting toward the distant enemy position. Standing more than ten meters away, Dickinson could feel the slight tremor of the earth.

A few seconds later, several plumes of smoke and dust from explosions rose from the enemy lines. The chaotic scene of the enemy troops nearly 500 meters away, with men and horses falling, looked like a silent pantomime to him.

This was a direct, frontal engagement, clearly different from the assault on the old capital. With no sturdy walls for protection, both sides relied purely on superior weaponry and the bravery of their soldiers to crush their opponent.

St. Valen’s Capital’s Knightly Order and the cavalry under the other great feudal lords were indeed among the few elite fighting forces in the central kingdoms of the southern continent… but unfortunately for them, they had run into the magical army of the King of the North.

Watching his former comrades-in-arms instantly crumble under such a crushing and merciless offensive, Dickinson couldn’t bear the sight. He turned slightly away, subconsciously narrowing his eyes to stare at the ground.

The young officer Ivan, who had been standing beside him, glanced over and explained nonchalantly, “Mr. Knight, we did try to call for their surrender. The other feudal lords accepted and took the initiative to pull their troops out of the Holy See’s allied forces… Only the commander of the Capital’s Knightly Order was stubborn. All that awaits them now is merciless judgment.”

Long before the Northern Army troops arrived to offer terms, most of the feudal lords had already received news of the capital’s fall and the Grand Duke’s abdication and death. They knew of the terrifying weapons and extraordinary means in the hands of the Lord of the Northern Realm. Any who cherished their lives and the cavalry forces they had painstakingly built would not resist stubbornly in such a one-sided situation.

Last night, Dickinson, who was in charge of delivering the call to surrender, personally went with a small squad of soldiers to the camps of the various feudal lords. Invariably, he was received with the solemnity befitting a king’s envoy. Only the Capital’s Knightly Order, positioned at the very frontline of the border battlefield and intermingled with the Church’s Judgment Army, gave them the cold shoulder, just as they had expected.

Therefore, at dawn today, just as scouts reported that the other noble lords were successively withdrawing their forces, the Northern Army also received intelligence that the Capital’s Knightly Order, together with the Church’s Judgment Army, was slowly advancing on their camp.

The two cavalry forces numbered nearly two thousand men in total, but there was no sign of the Holy See’s bloodline knights or battle priests among them. It seemed the focus of these main combatants, who had been entangled with the Da’ers Mage Corps on the border for nearly half a year, was still on their old Spellcaster rivals. They hadn’t paid much attention to the Northern Army that had suddenly appeared behind them.

And for the current Northern Army, such a pure cavalry charge posed no significant threat… While the enemy was still gathering its cavalry formation five hundred meters away, the three magical-powered cannons had already roared to life, mercilessly bombarding the dense ranks of soldiers.

The sniper squad, originally positioned on a high slope to the side specifically to deal with high-rank Priests and bloodline knights, found no targets. They turned their sights onto the knightly officers in their gleaming armor and fluttering banners. After several Knight Commanders suddenly shuddered, a spray of blood mixed with armor fragments bursting from their chests as they fell silently from their horses, this elite cavalry unit, which was formidable enough to sweep through the battlefields of the kingdoms, finally fell into complete disarray.

The charge of a thousand valiant horsemen… was over before it even began.

Startled warhorses trampled the knights thrown to the ground without a shred of pity. The cavalrymen who managed to stay on their mounts desperately reined in their horses, subconsciously trying to retreat to the rear of the formation. But the regular infantry, already at the back, couldn’t discern their officers’ commands amid the chaos and ended up blocking the cavalry’s path of retreat.

No one knew what the black shadows flying from the distance were, only that when one landed in a dense crowd, it would immediately unleash a violent explosion and a flash of fire. For dozens of meters around, bodies were torn to shreds and limbs were blown off, making it impossible to find a single complete corpse.

The mounted knights were especially terrified, never knowing when a comrade beside them would suddenly have their chest or head explode along with their armor, splattering blood, flesh, and metal fragments all over those nearby. The scene was like hell itself.

…

Wayne held a pair of binoculars, calmly observing the tragic scene unfolding within the enemy formation. He never gave the order to cease fire… He had no intention of taking the one hundred magical energy shells they had brought to the border back with them.

“Battalion commander!” a scout, also on lookout duty, shouted. “The enemy probably won’t be able to assemble their cavalry! Should we order the soldiers to advance?”

“Wait a little longer.” Wayne lowered his binoculars and shook his head unhurriedly, not once looking at the pale-faced Dickinson standing beside him.

The bombardment continued for two more rounds. Seeing that the enemy formation was on the verge of an uncontrollable rout, many of the Northern Army soldiers, who were champing at the bit, frequently glanced back toward their commander’s position, wondering why he still hadn’t ordered a full-scale advance.

A moment later, a black owl suddenly materialized out of thin air in front of Wayne. Flapping its wings, it flew straight into his subconsciously raised palm. The bird instantly turned into a puff of ash, leaving a small note in his hand.

As agreed… the Da’ers Federation’s Mage Corps had also launched an offensive against the Church’s Judgment Army early this morning. It was they who were tying up those “holy rollers” from the Church who also possessed extraordinary powers, allowing the Northern Army to achieve such a crushing victory by bombarding the mortal cavalry.

A pincer attack from front and back, to completely annihilate the Church’s armed forces and the nobles who clung to them… this was the cooperative plan Harvey had arranged with the Federation before dispatching troops to the capital.

The so-called “call to surrender” was merely a nominal gesture to bolster their public image. For the lords and vassals who chose to submit and cooperate, it was a way of giving sufficient face to the nobility of St. Valen.

Those unwilling to surrender are to be executed on the spot. This was the real order Harvey had personally given to Pierce and the other officers remaining behind before he returned to Starfire City.

At this rate, apart from the canny noble lords who had caught wind of the situation and quietly withdrawn their troops last night, the stubborn factions who dared to openly appear before the Northern Army today probably wouldn’t even get the chance to surrender.

With a single command, the infantry, long champing at the bit, began to slowly advance toward the enemy’s position. It was only when they were within rifle range that the enemy, belatedly reacting, managed to pull together their ragged ranks and charge at them, spurred on by the hoarse, desperate shouts of their surviving officers.

A dense volley of gunfire echoed across the plains like raindrops. A cloud of white smoke drifted over the Northern Army’s infantry line—it was the smoke produced after firing the new type of Magical Energy Bullets mixed with Dragon’s Flame powder. More than fifty knights, along with their infantry squires, were cut down like wheat on the muddy grassland before they even got within fifty meters of the Northern Army’s position.

“They’re just sitting ducks, can’t even fight back…”

“Their charge is nothing compared to the Church’s Spear of Radiance knightly order.”

“No kidding! That one is composed entirely of bloodline knights…”

The Northern Army soldiers under Wayne’s command, numbering less than a thousand, didn’t even need to use their Magical Energy Machine Guns. The power of their repeating rifles alone was enough to crush the enemy mid-charge.

This was the first charge of the Capital’s Knightly Order and the Holy See’s knights, and it was also the last cavalry charge of this war.

Afterward… the entire enemy formation collapsed in an instant.

Chapter 485: Explosive Population Growth

With the death of the second captured Red Lizardman, a thick new experimental report landed on Harvey’s desk.

The damage test report, dozens of pages long, detailed the Demonic Lizardmen’s reactions to various forms of attack other than magical energy weapons—and just as Harvey had expected, their hides were equally immune to divine arts!

However, likely due to the significant physiological differences from Humans, they showed minimal reaction to plagues, toxins, and psychic magic attacks. For now, it seemed only freezing and anesthesia had any noticeable effect.

This forced Harvey to abandon the “bioweapons” development plan in his mind and turn his attention to their unique black water weapon. This liquid weapon, converted from the body fluids of Red Lizardmen, had unknown components… but it was certain to be highly flammable. To put it simply, they were “weak to fire.”

As long as the battle wasn’t taking place in the icy sea, Harvey was confident he could develop firearms capable of creating widespread incendiary effects—incendiary bombs, for instance, would be an excellent choice for dealing with the Demonic Lizardmen.

…

The Northern Realm’s short summer soon came to an end. Just before the arrival of autumn, Starfire City’s population growth experienced another explosive peak.

With the fall of the old capital, major cities like Fengyuan City, Grizzly Keep, Silverpine City, Black Mountain Port, and Three-Forks Town fell one after another. Seventy percent of the Duchy of St. Valen’s territory was now under Harvey’s de facto control.

In these towns that had just endured brutal warfare, the social landscape had been turned upside down. To save their own skins, the nobles, under a mix of threats and inducements, voluntarily surrendered their fiefdoms. Meanwhile, the poor tenant farmers, who had once diligently worked the land, saw most of their fields burned in the fighting or trampled by nobles from neighboring countries who seized the opportunity to plunder. They watched as a whole year’s hard work went to waste, and even before winter’s cold set in, they were plunged into the miserable plight of hunger and poverty.

Harvey’s refugee recruitment efforts in the south and east immediately became twice as effective. Unlike before, when the secret police had to recruit covertly, City Hall now established subordinate municipal departments in almost every populous city, openly recruiting fresh labor.

Three-Forks Town, originally just a river transit port, now saw nearly a thousand refugees converging there each week from the south and east. They waited for northbound ships to take them to the city promised in the recruitment campaigns… a place called Starfire City, where everyone could have comfortable housing, a stable job, and a prosperous, secure life.

To prevent any mishaps before the refugees reached the Northern Realm, City Hall dispatched an engineering team from the Construction Department to Three-Forks Town. In a very short time, they doubled the size of the port town, which originally had a population of just over a thousand. They set up Relief Mess Halls and free medical stations, and built numerous stone-brick barracks for temporary housing. This way, even in the depths of a freezing winter, the refugees stranded there wouldn’t have to worry about cold or hunger.

After the Spine of the Gods tunnel opened to traffic, Raven Ridge, less than a five-hour journey from Starfire City, naturally became the busiest checkpoint before entering the Northern Realm. City Hall and the Police Department dispatched nearly thirty percent of their personnel and police force to maintain order and security at this ‘border crossing.’ They were there to ensure that every person boarding the train to Starfire City had completed a background check and identity registration.

Meanwhile, the officials in Starfire City responsible for population management meticulously categorized these refugees from all over the country and assigned them to one of three temporary housing areas outside the city to the east, west, and south.

Although Rainer, as the Municipal Director, was practically working around the clock, the perpetually understaffed Main City Hall was still in a state of chaotic frenzy. This was entirely due to the rapid success of Harvey’s southern campaign. Nearly half of the personnel from the Main City Hall alone had been dispatched to various parts of the south to establish subordinate municipal administration departments.

“Telegram’s here! In half an hour… a batch of refugees from the south are arriving at The Central Station! About five hundred of them, from around Silverpine City!”

“Aaargh! Silverpine City again! How are we getting so many refugees from there?”

“Tch! Those damn nobles in Silverpine City… they’d rather hand over their land and offer tribute and treasure to our City Lord to sue for peace than give their moldy grain to the people. Most of the fields over there have been destroyed by the war. The locals can’t survive!”

“Pah! They should be made to look at those foolish nobles from the old capital hanging on the gallows. Maybe then they’d reflect on their own actions!”

“Shh… enough of that. No need to slaughter an obedient dog right away. Let’s just get to the outskirts and meet the train!”

“Damn my luck! I’m on rotation to Three-Forks Town next week, in charge of processing the refugee transfers. It’s my first time in the south… I hear the towns there don’t even have sewers, just filth and dirty water flowing all over the streets… And no running water, heating, or lighting in the houses. I have no idea how I’m going to survive!”

“Heh heh, we all have to go through it. Your supervisor will have a good impression of you for your year-end evaluation. Stop complaining… Remember to bring plenty of cigarettes and soap. You can’t get good stuff like that in the south.”

Sitting in the director’s office on the second floor, Rainer allowed himself a rare moment to zone out. As an alchemical lifeform, his sharp hearing allowed him to pick up the jumbled, noisy conversations from downstairs and pinpoint precisely who was speaking. Ever since its establishment and restructuring, City Hall hadn’t had a single moment of peace.

But recent events had made Rainer, who considered himself more than capable of handling the duties of Municipal Director, feel a sliver of anxiety and impatience.

With the large-scale recruitment of refugees, Starfire City’s outsider population had suddenly surged at the end of summer… This unchecked influx of people naturally led to frequent public order problems and a sharp rise in the crime rate.

Even Yuliao, the usually calm and capable Police Chief… who had just been promoted to Deputy Director of the Justice Department… had developed hints of gray at his temples within a single month, his once jet-black, glossy hair worn down by stress. And he had only just turned thirty and wasn’t even formally married yet!

…

“Mr. Steward, I didn’t want to make demands at a time when City Hall is so busy…”

Even though Yuliao was so busy he was run off his feet, he maintained a poised and energetic demeanor, his back straight and his police superintendent’s uniform crisp and neat. But the first words out of his mouth were the ones Rainer least wanted to hear. “The refugee housing areas outside the city are desperately short-staffed. A week ago, I submitted a request for the emergency recruitment of two hundred probationary officers, but you sent it back without even looking at it… I had no choice but to come and demand more personnel in person.”

Rainer remained bent over his desk, pen in hand, rapidly drafting a document without looking up. A mechanical tentacle attached to his spine silently extended from beneath his robes, plucked a file from the bookshelf behind him, and handed it directly to Yuliao, who was sitting opposite.

“It’s not that I’m deliberately ignoring the Police Department’s request. It’s that recruiting police officers requires them to be local-born, have a clean record, be of reliable character, and be strictly between the ages of twenty and forty… As you know, candidates meeting those criteria in Starfire City are prime picks fiercely sought after by the Military Command and the various factories. By the time your turn comes… where are we supposed to find any spare manpower to assign?”

Yuliao raised an eyebrow. Facing the most powerful figure under the City Lord, he showed no signs of fear or evasiveness. “But the security situation in the housing areas is urgent. If we don’t curb it now, it will soon spill over and affect the city… When the City Lord demands an accounting, neither of us will be able to escape responsibility!”

As these implicitly threatening words left his mouth, Rainer, whose emotional senses had been gradually fading, felt a rare surge of anger. He finally looked up, his eyes of flickering soul fire silently staring at Yuliao for a few seconds.

“Police Superintendent, threatening me will not solve any problems,” Rainer explained flatly. “Unless the recruitment requirements personally set by the City Lord are changed… there’s nothing I can do.”

This was precisely the statement Yuliao had been trying to force him to make. He immediately softened his attitude and politely suggested, “I have a solution… Why don’t we jointly propose to the City Lord that we introduce Alchemical constructs to assist the Police Department in managing the city’s security? What do you think?”

Chapter 486: Public Order and Food Crisis

“This is indeed a major problem that needs to be addressed urgently…”

Harvey sat in his castle office, setting down the work report Rainer had handed him. He cleared his throat, his brow furrowed. “I’ve poured all my energy into dealing with our non-human enemies recently and have been somewhat lax on Starfire City’s internal management.”

On the one hand, his anxiety was naturally heightened by the Demonic Lizardmen advancing from the north. On the other, it stemmed from his trust in his old subordinate, who managed all the territory’s internal affairs, keeping everything in perfect order on his behalf.

It was only when facing Harvey that Rainer would clearly display any emotional fluctuations. He complained in a low voice, “My lord, I’m so busy my Soul Core is about to start smoking, and now Mr. Yuliao has to throw me a curveball… He actually wants to introduce Alchemical constructs into the Police Department to assist regular police officers in maintaining order in the city.”

“Oh?” Harvey raised his eyebrows in surprise. “He certainly has some unexpected ideas. What are your thoughts on it?”

“In all of Starfire City, aside from myself, Astaren, and Mr. Arturo, none of the other Alchemical constructs were created through human soul transfer. In essence… they are more like mechanical beasts implanted with fixed commands. Using them in combat outside the city with our soldiers is fine, of course, but for internal security… I’m afraid it’s a bit excessive.”

Harvey couldn’t help but chuckle. As the very first alchemical lifeform he had created, Rainer had, after all this time, still retained his fundamental humanity and emotions. He never considered the other Alchemical constructs of the same origin as his kin… in fact, he seemed faintly wary of them.

This was a good thing. It only made Harvey feel that the first alchemical lifeform he ever created was perfect in every respect.

“Are you worried that the Alchemical constructs lack humanity and will enforce the law too brutally and bloodily, causing the city’s populace to feel disgust and fear?”

Rainer nodded honestly. “After all, most of them are created by grafting together the souls of various beasts. They only receive command inputs from the three of us and yourself upon leaving the factory. They simply don’t act with the same tact and flexibility as a living human being.”

Harvey nodded in agreement, pulled out a piece of paper, and scribbled down a note. Rainer took it and stared, asking blankly, “Community Police… Criminal Police? My lord, what does this mean?”

Having just coined two new terms in half a minute, Harvey coughed awkwardly and patiently explained, “Everyday disputes and arguments among the common people, as well as minor legal infractions… will be handled by human police officers. However, for major crimes involving personal injury, serial murders, violent robberies, and the like, Alchemical constructs will be dispatched to assist the officers.”

He paused, his expression serious. “The Police Department and the Justice Department are administrative branches just as important as the military. Though their duties are purely internal, they also require clear divisions… We need a two-pronged approach when dealing with the populace. Both appeasement and deterrence are indispensable.”

The realization dawned on Rainer, and he blurted out, “I understand! My lord, this is the ‘carrot and stick’ principle you said is necessary for governing the territory!”

Harvey burst out laughing and couldn’t help but praise him. “Rainer, when you were human, you were already approaching middle age… I didn’t expect that after becoming an alchemical lifeform, you would seem to grow younger and younger. Your ability to learn and extrapolate is on par with my own!”

“Uh… you know I just have a good memory. And this talent for never forgetting what I hear was a gift you bestowed upon me when you created me.”

Having solved the problem of the police officer shortage, before Harvey could even catch his breath, Rainer immediately pulled another document from the satchel at his side and presented it to him.

After a quick glance, Harvey immediately realized this problem was far more serious than the public order of Starfire City.

“How could this have happened? Is it because we’ve recruited too many people from the south recently?”

“According to our original projections, the external population shouldn’t have grown by more than three thousand in a month and a half, but the reality is far beyond that, my lord… The large-scale civil unrest caused by the minor and major nobles of the Duchy of St. Valen and the lords of neighboring countries has in fact devastated too many of the lower-class citizens who were already struggling on the brink of poverty and starvation.”

For these poor commoners, who depended entirely on farming to survive, the final outcome after suffering the ravages of war and the persecution of nobles would have been nothing more than a difficult struggle through a fruitless autumn, ultimately to freeze or starve to death in their hometowns or on the road as refugees during the cold winter.

But now, City Hall’s massive recruitment drive within the Duchy had given them their only hope of survival… With their bellies empty, no one cared about leaving their homes for the barren lands. The desire to live would only compel them to board the ships bound for the Northern Realm without a second thought.

“Our grain reserves could have easily lasted until the start of winter. Once the Eastern Expansion base completes its autumn harvest, the territory’s granaries would naturally be full again… But now, the number of refugees from the south is more than three times our estimate.”

Rainer paused, seeming to hesitate, but after a moment, he spoke decisively, “My recommendation is to stop accepting refugees and prioritize the food supply for the local residents of Starfire City…”

Before he could finish, Harvey cut him off with a frown. “No! We absolutely cannot stop recruiting refugees!”

“Though the flames of civil war in the Duchy have subsided, people from the southeastern lands will continue to pour into the Northern Realm. Besides believing that we can provide them with food and shelter to survive, they are pinning their hopes on Starfire City being the paradise in the barren lands they imagine it to be… a place where they can settle down to live and work in peace. A promise has been made. If we stop taking in the remaining people and abandon them, the image and reputation we have built among the common folk will be destroyed in an instant. If we face a shortage of labor and soldiers later, it will be much harder to recruit from anywhere else!”

Moreover, Harvey’s established long-term development plan depended on a large population of landless farmers to be realized. The undeveloped land in the barren lands was vast and boundless. Even if the city’s population expanded to one hundred thousand, it would still only occupy a tiny corner. As long as he could get through the bottleneck of the food shortage brought on by the population explosion, Harvey was confident he could ignite the spark of the city’s industrialization in a short time.

“Notify the major merchant guilds in the south at once!” Harvey declared, making his decision. “I know they’ve been closely monitoring the situation in the central kingdoms, led by St. Valen. Those sharp-nosed merchants must have hoarded large quantities of grain, waiting for the price to rise!”

Rainer was astonished. “My lord, you… you plan to import grain at a high price?”

After receiving Harvey’s affirmative reply, the Municipal Director winced as he pulled out the general ledger from his waist. He flipped through a few pages nervously and muttered in a low voice, “In that case, I’m afraid your Navy plan, railway plan, munitions factory expansion… and your new weapon research and development projects will all have to be postponed indefinitely due to a lack of funds.”

While Harvey was still gaping in stunned silence, Rainer delivered the finishing blow.

“Also, the exploration team you ordered Lord Duncan to lead has made contact with three refugee settlements deep in the barren lands. Led by the snowy mountain settlement, there are over five thousand people in total. If all goes well, they too will migrate to Starfire City before winter arrives… After generations of bitter hardship, they have finally found a place to settle down and live in peace for good.”

Chapter 487: Daylight Robbery

The short-term crisis of food and supply shortages versus the long-term development policy of absorbing an outside population… A certain conflict was bound to exist between the two, and in a sense, it was the very bottleneck they now had to face.

If Harvey remembered correctly, ever since the border conflict between St. Valen and Da’ers erupted late last autumn, the central kingdoms of the south had entered a period of soaring grain prices. And it wasn’t just the blatant price hikes; many merchant guilds, sensing an opportunity, had started secretly hoarding supplies, preparing to jack up the prices and make a killing once winter set in.

Importing grain at high prices could only alleviate the pressing need for a short time; it was by no means a sustainable long-term solution. Even the several merchant guilds in the south led by the Dragonstone Merchant Guild, with whom they had always maintained close ties, had sent letters to Harvey expressing their apologies.

The autumn harvest was less than a month or two away, and no one had much surplus grain on hand. If it was just a matter of feeding a few thousand people, they might be able to ship some wheat over, but they couldn’t possibly satisfy any greater demand.

It was better to rely on oneself than on others. Starfire City’s grain reserves had not yet hit the critical red line, so lasting until the end of the month wouldn’t be a problem. The first harvest at the Eastern Expansion base would be a new source of supply; the more important consideration right now was how to “reduce expenditure.”

Rainer proposed a relatively feasible solution for this—cut back on food supplies in various regions, strictly control the amount of grain citizens could purchase, allow outside grain merchants to only sell and not buy, and reduce the quota for processed foods. The priority was to ensure the people had enough to eat; eating well would have to wait until the Eastern Expansion base’s harvest.

But this clearly risked breaking the promises previously made to the populace. For newly annexed cities like Goldshine City and Fengyuan City, it would be fine. But for the citizens of Starfire City and Grizzly Keep, who had long since entered a state of comfortable living, it would be a tough sell. It’s always easy to go from a simple life to one of luxury, but difficult to go the other way. People accustomed to eating white bread at every meal would not take kindly to suddenly having to drink wheat porridge, and it was almost certain to stir panic about a food shortage.

When the high-level meeting was convened in Harvey’s castle the next day, Astaren, for the first time, proposed a solution that greatly tempted Harvey.

“This was actually a problem the Kingdom of Eternal Night encountered when they first migrated to the depths of the barren lands.” Astaren’s soul fire flickered unstably as he seemed to drift into a distant memory. “The migrating party of wizards and bloodline squires also faced a food shortage crisis. In order to build the magnificent City of Eternal Night… they indiscriminately recruited many refugees from the barren lands, only to find it difficult to feed them all.”

“Mm, judging by the scale of the Eternal Night Ruins, the number of refugees who participated in building the city was likely no less than ten thousand.” Harvey nodded, his tone tinged with a bit of melancholy. “Besides, neither the barren lands nor the ice sea are suitable for growing crops. It’s hard to guarantee a continuous supply just by fishing and hunting.”

Astaren chuckled softly and said slowly, “So… whenever food grew scarce before winter, the city’s administrators at the time would turn their eyes to the numerous vile orc tribes.”

Rainer was taken aback. “You mean…”

Harvey rapped his knuckles on the table and took over, his voice grave. “By robbing them. The vile orcs are naturally skilled at animal husbandry, and they’ve enslaved a large number of refugees from the barren lands to farm for them. Raiding them after the start of autumn, when the cattle and sheep are fat, is a guaranteed way to return fully loaded.”

“But the vile orcs are too spread out across the barren lands, and the tribes are far apart. Although their total population seems immense… sweeping through them one small tribe at a time would be too time-consuming and laborious.”

Moreover, Pierce was still stationed in the old capital, and the soldiers dispatched to fight across the south had not yet returned. The actual combat-ready forces available to Starfire City were not particularly abundant.

Harvey shook his head. “Frankly, I have no interest in the paltry gains from those vile orcs.”

He stood up, walked over to the map hanging on the wall, and pointed, drawing everyone’s attention from the barren lands back to the south. “When the border conflict between St. Valen and Da’ers broke out, the neighboring Barkley’s border Grand Duke suddenly dispatched troops into our territory in the name of the Church and launched a campaign against several cities and regions in southern St. Valen, especially Silverpine City and Black Mountain Port… Those two places are what you might call the duchy’s granaries!”

Although the Barkley border Grand Duke had prudently and quietly withdrawn his forces as news of Goldshine City’s fall and the defeat of the Church’s Army of Judgment legions in the old capital spread, the vast amounts of food and wealth he had plundered were very real gains.

And as it happened, the Northern Army’s three combat units were currently positioned at Silverpine City, Black Mountain Port, and the border where the three nations met!

“I heard that this border Grand Duke of Barkley, in order to have a just cause, roped in many nobles from his country to join his campaign. They used every trick in the book to plunder the southern part of the duchy, and every one of them profited handsomely.” Astaren’s tone was somewhat contemptuous. “If we were to hit them one by one, the returns would surely be greater than robbing those savage vile orc tribes.”

Rainer hesitated for a moment before saying uncertainly, “In that case… wouldn’t we be seen as invading a neighboring country without provocation?”

Harvey said nonchalantly, “We’re taking back what they stole from us. That’s called collecting a debt!”

Of course, it was only reasonable to collect some interest during this “debt collection” process. As long as they acted quickly and covertly enough, they could seize enough spoils to refill Starfire City’s granaries before the Barkley Capital could even react.

Besides, if he recalled correctly, that founding member of the Spellcaster Forum with the handle “Earth’s Favored” was from the Barkley royal family, and a high-rank spellcaster who held a high position and wielded real secular power.

And Mr. “Earth’s Favored” himself had clearly stood on his side during the forum’s public vote. When faced with a “traitorous” vassal from his own country who leaned towards the Church, Harvey imagined he would be more than happy to have Harvey eliminate them for him.

At this thought, an idea suddenly struck Harvey. It had been a long time since he had made an appearance on the Spellcaster Forum; he had even delegated most of the daily forum management to Astaren. He needed to find some free time to attend the weekly gathering and probe their current attitudes and sentiments again.

…

After the high-level meeting ended, Harvey immediately returned to his study.

He turned on the Magic Brain device and logged into the Forum with practiced ease. His eyes immediately fell upon the handle “Earth’s Favored,” displayed prominently at the top of the list of online members.

Without hesitation, Harvey sent him a request for a private chat, and he quickly received a response.

[Kel’Thuzad: Mr. Earth’s Favored, apologies for the intrusion… I have a real-world problem for which I’d like to seek your answer.]

[Earth’s Favored: Haha, it’s an honor to have the opportunity for a private chat with Mr. ‘Agent’. Please, feel free to ask for any help you need.]

Harvey couldn’t help but curve his lips into a faint smile. His impression of this founding member of the forum had always been that of a gentle and polite individual. Moreover, as a spellcaster of noble birth, his stance was remarkably principled. While he was unwilling to get close to the Federation faction, he hadn’t directly sided with the Church either.

This was evident when he had offered to help forum members assassinate the Church’s witch hunters within Barkley’s borders. And in the subsequent forum referendum, he had also promised to use the power at his disposal to help the Federation expel the Church’s influence from his country.

[Kel’Thuzad: Unpaid help goes against the forum’s principles. I currently require detailed information on the border Grand Duke of the Barkley Duchy, including his family name and origins, his family’s history, the power of his fiefdom, his armed forces, and all related intelligence. As for the price of this exchange, you are free to name it.]

Gathering intelligence on a neighboring vassal in the real world wasn’t difficult. Even if Harvey had his “secret police” handle it, it would just be a matter of waiting a little longer. But asking “Earth’s Favored” on the forum was actually a way to indirectly probe his personal attitude and opinion.

The dog definitely had to be beaten, but it was common courtesy to first ask the suspected owner’s opinion.

Chapter 488: The Koffman Family

Harvey, half-probing and half-seeking confirmation, asked “Earth’s Favored” on the Forum for information on the border Grand Duke of Barkley. He had expected a polite refusal or a somewhat perfunctory reply, but the answer he received left him stunned.

【Earth’s Favored: Mr. Kel’Thuzad, regarding the border Grand Duke… truth be told, you don’t need me to tell you. I’m sure you have your own ways of finding out… Carlo Koffman, the border duke ennobled by the Baroque royal family, shares the same surname as I do. If we were to trace our lineage, he would even have to call me grand-uncle.】

Harvey raised his eyebrows in surprise. The border Grand Duke, a man over fifty, would have to call Mr. “Earth’s Favored” grand-uncle?

This high-level caster, always so gentle and low-key on the Forum, must be far older than he seemed… Could he, like Mr. Scorching Sovereign, be an elderly mage over a hundred years old?

But the man showed no signs of advancing to the Legendary-rank. By the lifespan of an ordinary high-level caster, shouldn’t he be nearing the end of his life? Why had he never sought methods to prolong his life on the Forum?

The spellcasters of the Koffman family must have a secret art to slow aging and extend their lives!

The moment the suspicion surfaced in his mind, the other party frankly provided the answer.

【Earth’s Favored: Hehe, are you wondering… since I’m of Carlo Koffman’s grandfather’s generation, my real age must be over a hundred, so why haven’t I suffered from mana exhaustion and dropped in rank due to advanced age?】

【Kel’Thuzad: If this is a family secret, then out of courtesy and propriety… I shouldn’t pry. It would be too presumptuous.】

【Earth’s Favored: It’s no matter. These things may be great secrets in the eyes of royalty and nobility, but among spellcasters, they are rather unremarkable, even common knowledge to some… The Koffman family inherited a portion of the bloodline of the ancient High Elves. Although the bloodline has thinned after centuries of inheritance, the advantage of longevity has, for the most part, been preserved.】

Harvey had a flash of insight. No wonder Mr. Earth’s Favored, despite being born into royalty, had still chosen to become a spellcaster. With longevity as a natural advantage, he certainly had far more time than an ordinary spellcaster to pursue a higher level of existence. Even if he ultimately couldn’t reach the Legendary-rank, he could still maintain greater power in his old age than ordinary wizards, without having to worry about a sharp decline in strength due to mana exhaustion.

【Kel’Thuzad: Everyone in the Koffman family possesses this longevity trait? What about Duke Carlo himself?】

【Earth’s Favored: If I’m not mistaken, you’re planning to make a move against Carlo and the Barkley border nobles under his command, aren’t you? To settle the blood debt for their unprovoked harassment of St. Valen’s border for several months?】

As expected of one of the Forum’s founding members, who had adeptly navigated the various factions on the Spellcaster Forum for so long. He saw right through Harvey’s intentions at a glance.

Naturally, Harvey felt not the slightest fear or hesitation and admitted it openly.

【Kel’Thuzad: That’s right. It’s a price Duke Carlo must pay. Because of the chaos they recklessly instigated within my country, countless commoners have died or been injured. Furthermore, large swaths of farmland and numerous villages have been completely destroyed. The entire southern part of the duchy is now facing a massive famine with large numbers of refugees, right at the start of autumn when the harvest was imminent!】

On the crystal screen of the Magic Brain device, no reply came for a long time. It seemed Mr. Earth’s Favored was at a loss for words, feeling he was in the wrong. Harvey wasn’t in a hurry; after all, he was merely conveying his stance. There was no need to be unforgiving now that he had the moral high ground.

【Earth’s Favored: Though Carlo has royal blood, he belongs to a distant, collateral branch… He and I aren’t closely entangled. Back when the Forum’s public vote decided to expel and contain the Church’s influence, I used my own influence in the capital to cooperate to some extent. But when the royal decree reached his border fiefdom, it didn’t receive the proper response or respect. He has always stood firmly with the Church.】

The message was clear… If you want to fight him, go ahead. It has nothing to do with me. For a Grand Duke who didn’t even respect his own kingdom’s royal family, having an outsider discipline him was, on the contrary, a good thing.

Harvey was naturally satisfied with this response. The other party was clearly showing him respect and saving him face due to his status as a Forum “agent.” Otherwise, with Barkley Duchy’s own strength, it wasn’t as if they couldn’t afford a war with St. Valen.

Of course, that was all under the premise that they were unaware of the power of the magical weapons he possessed. After all, when news of the war within St. Valen reached neighboring countries, for the most part, only the results were made public; the specific details of the battles were not widely known.

Subsequently, Earth’s Favored gave Harvey a detailed account of Grand Duke Carlo Koffman’s rise to power, the situation with the vassal nobles within his territory, and the troop strength of the renowned Baroque Border Knights. He was candid and meticulous in the information he shared.

Having received a satisfactory answer, Harvey was planning to exchange a few pleasantries and end their enjoyable online conversation when the other party suddenly threw an unexpected question at him.

【Earth’s Favored: Mr. Kel’Thuzad, if I may be so bold as to ask… now that you have complete control over the Duchy of St. Valen, do you intend to formally ascend the throne and become the new Grand Duke of St. Valen?】

It seemed he couldn’t hold it in any longer and had to ask before they concluded. In the thousand-year history of the nations of the south, it was indeed rare for a spellcaster to ascend a secular throne. If one were to trace it back… there was only the founder of the Federation, the mysterious first Chief, who was rumored to have been the first-in-line heir to the Oland royal family. At that time, Oland wasn’t the head of the seven wizard kingdoms as it was now, but a powerful secular nation that ruled the western part of the continent.

And that mysterious Chief who had renounced his right to the throne—his origins and background seemed to have been deliberately erased from the long annals of history. No matter how later generations tried to dig and investigate, they could never learn his true identity, though countless rumors, both true and false, persisted through the ages.

In any case, organizations like the Federation and the High Wizard Council, as well as noble spellcasters like Earth’s Favored, were paying very close attention to Harvey’s every move. If he chose to replace the former Grand Ducal family, which had been ennobled by the Church, and boldly seize the throne of St. Valen, the political landscape of the southern continent would be violently shaken. Not only would the Church react strongly, but the royal families of other secular kingdoms would also be on pins and needles.

With the precedent set by Harvey, who knew if other powerful spellcasters would follow his example and directly seize secular royal authority?

It was important to remember that when the Federation allied with the Church to fight the Demons, the treaty explicitly stipulated that spellcaster factions were not to interfere in the succession of secular kingdoms. Each new king of the secular nations was personally ennobled by the reigning Pope; it was tantamount to pledging allegiance in exchange for protection to secure their throne.

But Harvey’s response was unexpectedly baffling to Earth’s Favored.

【Kel’Thuzad: I personally don’t care much for such empty titles… but if the situation becomes tense and requires the unification of all forces that can be united, I will not hesitate to step up. So… please just wait and see!】

Chapter 489: Staff and Officers

After Harvey decided to launch a retaliatory operation against the neighboring border Grand Duke of Barkley, he immediately issued a war order to the Territorial Army.

The Military Command, growing more powerful by the day, immediately began pre-war preparations, with every department operating at high efficiency.

A continuous stream of ammunition and supplies produced by the munitions factories in Starfire City was transported down the Ralph River to Silverpine City and Black Mountain Port, the front lines closest to the border. These two cities, located in the south of St. Valen, were the nearest war fronts to the Barkley Duchy’s border fiefdom.

The new recruits, who had been enlisted in two rounds of expansion after the spring planting, had essentially completed their basic training. The best among them were broken up and integrated into the Northern Army’s ace First Battalion, which was still stationed in the capital. The rest were assigned to the Second and Third Battalions, stationed in Silverpine City and Black Mountain Port respectively, to supplement the flank forces.

With this, the actual combat-ready force in the south rapidly expanded to over five thousand men. This was more than enough to deal with a mere border Grand Duke of a neighboring country. As long as logistical support kept up, there would be no problem even marching west to the Holy City of Goris.

Of course, such a large-scale mobilization also stirred the ambitions of many mid-to-high-ranking officers in the Northern Army. They were not content with merely conquering the territory of an ordinary feudal lord. The operational reports that landed on Harvey’s desk like snowflakes were full of more aggressive ideas and suggestions, some even implicitly targeting the neighboring Barkley Duchy and the Papal State bordering Da’ers as the next objectives.

Harvey naturally just laughed it off. Although these officers had indeed surpassed the ordinary military nobles of the current era in their thinking and actions, they were still somewhat short-sighted compared to a transmigrator like himself, who had been steeped in the knowledge of modern warfare in his previous life. Large-scale modern warfare relied on a robust military-industrial complex and logistical capabilities. Given Starfire City’s current manufacturing and transportation capacity, the farther they fought from the Northern Realm, the higher the cost of each battle would be. Waging war recklessly without considering the consequences would only drag down Starfire City, which had just seen the first shoots of industrialization.

Although the available forces were ample, Harvey believed, based on the intelligence provided by the “Earth’s Favored,” that this “debt collection operation” would not be too difficult. After discussing it with Pierce, who was stationed in the old capital, they decided to set the final expeditionary force at two thousand men. Pierce would command it personally, with Vaughn’s First Battalion as the main combat force. The Second Battalion in Silverpine City and the Third Battalion in Black Mountain Port would each dispatch five hundred men to provide support on the flanks.

Considering that the border Grand Duke of Barkley was loyal to the Church and that battle priests or high-rank bloodline knights from the Holy See might appear in combat, some spellcasters from the Academy of Sciences would also join the expedition. They would be led by Proulx and Xilisi, who were also high-rank, and would bring a large number of controllable combat-type alchemical beasts, officially deploying alchemical constructs onto the southern battlefield.

With the newly formed General Staff Headquarters planning and coordinating from the center, it took less than a week from Harvey’s order to the completion of assembly and preparation. Members of the Staff Department, who had gone ahead to the old capital to meet with Commander Pierce, repeatedly discussed various tactical details with the expeditionary officers to ensure this operation beyond their borders would be foolproof.

However, when it came to the actual timing of the engagement, the front-line combat officers and the staff officers, who were new to the military system and still finding their footing, held differing opinions that proved difficult to reconcile.

The First Battalion’s commander, Vaughn, had always been a traditionalist skilled in offensive operations. He firmly believed that as long as their firepower was overwhelming enough, they could just steamroll all the way until the enemy was at their gates. There was no problem that a volley from twenty cannons combined with airship bombing couldn’t solve. In his view, as long as logistical support was guaranteed, the expeditionary force could fully leverage its firepower advantage and take the border Grand Duke’s capital city in at most three days. There was no need for any convoluted tactics to lure the enemy out.

The young staff officers, personally trained by Harvey and Astaren, were more inclined to lure the enemy out of their sturdy city and set up an engagement in the undefendable open field. This would avoid the excessive consumption of ammunition and supplies in a siege and would also serve to annihilate the enemy’s effective strength in one fell swoop.

According to intelligence, ever since Barkley had expelled and disbanded a large number of the Church’s forces in the capital, many Church personnel and devout followers had fled to Bluebramble City, which was under the border Grand Duke’s rule. The entire border fiefdom had effectively become the Church’s last bastion of faith within Barkley. If they laid siege to the city, there was no guarantee that the faithful wouldn’t be incited by the Church to actively participate in the city’s defense, even to the point of fighting the Northern Army directly.

This sort of thing had happened multiple times during the conflict between St. Valen and Da’ers. The Federation had been helpless against the Church’s shameless tactics, forced to retreat and avoid battle several times. No person in a position of real power ever wanted to bear the grave crime of massacring ordinary civilians; the consequences of losing the people’s support were simply unbearable.

“Siege warfare is indeed a simpler and more direct method for you all, but the consumption of ammunition and supplies is also a bottomless pit. Logistics are already strained everywhere with the harvest approaching. If we continue to be so wantonly wasteful, even if we defeat the border Grand Duke, the spoils we seize probably won’t even cover our losses from the expedition!”

The war was initiated under the pretext of collecting debts and seeking revenge, but its essence was to reclaim the large quantities of grain and property that had been plundered. If the final result was that their expenditure exceeded their gains, then this military operation would be a complete and utter losing proposition.

The military officers were naturally displeased with the Staff Department’s statement, feeling as if they were being treated like “spendthrifts” who only knew how to waste supplies. Battalion Commander Dav even jumped up and said angrily, “When it comes down to it, aren’t you just worried about the high ammunition consumption in a siege? Hmph, without artillery and air support, you think we can’t take down some country bumpkin lord’s stone kennel? My Third Battalion can take on the assault mission and be responsible for scaling the walls and capturing the city gates ourselves!”

Wayne rolled his eyes in exasperation at the brute’s words. Who would needlessly make things harder for themselves? It was a foolish move made purely out of spite. Under a series of pointed looks from Vaughn, Wayne quickly gave Dav a hard kick under the table, telling him to shut up immediately.

The staff officers, however, were completely unfazed. They were not intimidated by the furious provocations of these wolf-like military officers. One patiently explained, “But isn’t it putting the cart before the horse to have soldiers risk their lives in close combat just to save on ammunition and supplies?”

“Spending a lot of time luring them out of their fortified city to fight will also prolong the operation’s duration… the consumption won’t be any less than in a siege!”

“Besides, the border Grand Duke has several military noble factions under his command. It would be very time-consuming for him to gather them all. It’s better to launch a rapid assault straight on the Grand Duke’s lair, giving him no time or opportunity to assemble his forces. We’ll catch him completely off guard!”

“What if he receives word in advance and they each retreat into their own fiefdom castles, refusing to come out? We’ll still have to clear them out one by one, and every battle will be an assault!”

“So, a direct assault on the border Grand Duke’s capital city is the most suitable plan of action!”

Pierce listened calmly as the officers and staff officers argued themselves into a frenzy. Seeing that everyone had more or less voiced their opinions, he stood up and made the final decision.

“Alright, I’ve heard all of your opinions. There’s no need to argue further. For this operation, we will advance in three columns. The two flanking forces will be responsible for raiding the border to cut off their intelligence channels, while the main force will strike directly at the border Grand Duke’s capital, Bluebramble City. We will strive to take it completely within a day. Afterward, we’ll enforce a news blackout, send out forged signals for aid, and lure the military nobles from his other fiefdoms to come as reinforcements.”

This was the same strategy they had used against the old capital, Goldshine City. Pierce believed it would be just as effective in this operation beyond their borders.

Chapter 490: Debt Collection Operation

Two days later, the two thousand soldiers participating in this cross-border operation set off in full gear. The main force departed from the old capital, Goldshine City, traveling directly downstream on ironclad ships to Silverpine City. There, they parted ways with the flank units and marched straight for Bluebramble City, which stood in Barkley’s border fiefdom.

At the same time, according to the plan established at the war council, the two flank units from Black Mountain Port and Silverpine City also crossed into Barkley from the east and west. They began to harass the vassal nobles under the command of the border Grand Duke in the surrounding areas.

Compared to the previous attack on the old capital, this large-scale military operation could no longer rely on convenient river transport. A tributary of the Ralph River turned sharply west after passing Silverpine City, heading toward the wizard kingdom Da’ers… After entering Barkley’s territory, the combat units could only rely on marching on foot.

This was one of the main reasons why Harvey had deployed a large number of War Beasts in this operation. For long-distance marches and transporting war materials, ordinary ox- and horse-drawn wheeled vehicles were completely unable to meet the logistical transport needs of the Northern Army. The Magical-Powered Cannons alone, weighing over a thousand kilograms each, could not be easily pulled by anything other than the alchemical camel-beasts.

…

Ivan, a staff officer marching with the main force, saw someone in the officer ranks who surprised him.

“Mr. Knight, you… why have you come with us again?”

Dickinson was wearing a standard Northern Army soldier’s uniform, which looked rather out of place on him. The deep black military attire bore no rank insignia to indicate his position, and he was naturally unarmed. Standing among the mid-to-low-ranking officers, he looked somewhat ill at ease.

“I… I requested permission from Commander-in-Chief Pierce, Your Excellency, to join the battle against the Barkley border Grand Duke. But the City Lord refused my request. He only allowed me to accompany the troops… but not to personally participate in the fighting.”

Ivan smiled. “The City Lord and the Commander don’t mean to humiliate you. Even a newly enlisted soldier needs at least three months of training to master the basics of firing a Magical Energy Gun. The Magical Energy Machine Gun and the Magical-Powered Cannon require even longer periods of coordinated drills. They can’t be mastered overnight.”

He paused, looking Dickinson’s outfit up and down, and teased good-naturedly, “Besides, the Northern Army has no cavalry units. Apart from the Special Operations Squads composed of Bloodline Warriors, we almost never have the opportunity for close-quarters combat… so the fighting style you excelled at in the past isn’t suitable for our operations.”

Dickinson wasn’t offended. He nodded and said, “It’s alright. Just being allowed to march with the army is good enough. Even if I can’t be on the front lines, I can do some logistical work within my capabilities.”

Ivan was taken aback for a moment, asking in confusion, “Why are you so insistent on joining the expedition? Wouldn’t it be better to stay in the old capital and ask the City Lord for a position more befitting your status? The City Lord praised you personally, you know.”

The Chief Knight shook his head and said haltingly, “After the City Lord took control of the capital, he didn’t… eagerly replace His Majesty the Grand Duke and ascend the throne as everyone expected. Instead, he abolished taxes and hard labor, punished the guilty nobles, and stabilized the situation in the city… He even sent troops to the border to mediate the conflict. And now… now, for the sake of the people who suffered from the neighboring country’s aggression, he has dispatched troops to crusade against the Barkley border Grand Duke, to reclaim the food and property that were plundered…”

The more he spoke, the more emotional he became, and his face flushed slightly red. “As the Chief Knight of the capital of St. Valen, the responsibility of guarding the people and the land should have been borne by me and the Capital’s Knightly Order under my command. But the Knightly Order was unwilling to surrender and sought its own destruction… Let me repay the debts they owe and fulfill the responsibilities they shirked in their stead!”

Ivan sighed with a touch of melancholy, his tone full of admiration. “Although the City Lord has already praised you, I still want to repeat it—you truly are a real knight!”

With that, he glanced around before leaning close to Dickinson’s ear and whispering, “If you want to join the Northern Army, to fight to protect the country and its people… it’s not actually that difficult. If you’re willing… I can try to recommend you to my superiors at the General Staff Headquarters. The City Lord and the Commander are unwilling to let you condescend to be a common soldier, but joining the Staff Department should be no problem at all!”

…

Northern Realm, Starfire City.

Harvey, having just received the report of the expedition’s departure, slowly let out a breath. He turned to Rainer and Astaren in the study and said, “I hope this military operation abroad will yield enough food and supplies to last us until the harvest season.”

If they could successfully get through this period of food shortages, which would last a little over a month, not only the Eastern Expansion base of Starfire City but also the vast, fertile farmlands around Fengyuan City would soon be ready for harvest. Although the south had not yet widely adopted the enchanted grain seeds, and the wheat yield and quality would be slightly inferior, it would be more than enough to feed the large number of migrating people.

The southern merchant guilds with whom they had good relations had also sent word. They were willing to temporarily allocate some of their winter grain reserves to be shipped to St. Valen. Part of it would be used to relieve the starving populace in the war-torn areas of Black Mountain Port and Silverpine City, while the rest would continue north to supplement the daily food consumption of Starfire City, that massive barren lands city with its exploding population.

The continuous external military campaigns and population growth had put immense pressure on all of Starfire City’s production departments. Overwhelmed, Harvey finally received a piece of good news that was enough to delight him—the farmland reclaimed at the Eastern Expansion base earlier in the spring was projected to have a harvest that would far exceed the original production targets, reaching an unprecedented grain yield!

Whether it was the wheat, the oil crops, or the cassava intercropping techniques, they would be able to harvest enough high-quality food in autumn to feed as many as one hundred thousand people. Refined flour, vegetable oil, and starch products would be continuously shipped from the pre-built processing plants. From there, they would be rapidly transported to Starfire City by train and ultimately delivered to the dining tables of the city’s residents.

In the future, it wouldn’t just be the continued reclamation of farmland. Plans for planting various cash crops would also be gradually implemented. In the southwest of the enclosed Eastern Basin, a pasture even vaster than the Starfire City Farm had been established. Staff from the Animal Husbandry Group had already sent many young livestock to be raised, which would provide the populace with higher-quality meat products in the future.

For the people who enthusiastically participated in the Eastern Expansion plan, Harvey had also fulfilled his original promise. Those who already had official residency status in Starfire City were rewarded with generous salaries, allowances, and priority enrollment for their children in school. As for those who had not yet obtained official residency, they were directly issued identification cards as encouragement, without having to wait for the six-month observation period.

Furthermore, to increase the development of the Eastern Expansion base, this “granary of the barren lands,” Harvey also planned to build a paved road hundreds of kilometers long, parallel to the train tracks. This would serve as a supplementary transport facility to compensate for the railway, whose transport frequency was already nearly saturated.

Of course, one couldn’t easily travel the hundreds of kilometers between Starfire City and the Eastern Expansion base just by pedaling a bicycle. The Magic Motorcycles, used only for military operations, were not suitable for ordinary daily transport either. The most suitable option was the War Beast, which had originally been a troop transport vehicle. With a few modifications—equipping it with a magical-powered core and four rubber wheels—it could undergo a “military-to-civilian conversion” and be turned into a civilian magical-powered truck for transporting goods!

Chapter 491: The Battle of Bluebramble City

The border between Barkley and St. Valen was a vast expanse of green fields and low hills. Lacking any rivers or waterways for irrigating farmland, few villages or towns had sprung up in the area. Even bandits and robbers rarely frequented it.

After nearly four days of marching through the wilderness, the Northern Army finally crossed this desolate border region. In the distance, they could see stretches of villages and farmland, and nestled in a valley at the foot of the mountains, the massive city of Bluebramble City—the capital of the border Grand Duke Carlo Koffman’s fiefdom.

This was the second-largest city in the Barkley Duchy after the capital, Maple Leaf City. Though it couldn’t compare to the capital in population or prosperity, its territory was famous for its silver mines. It was even rumored to be the ancestral home of the current Barkley royal family, the Koffmans, making it an exceedingly wealthy resource city.

Pierce ordered the troops to halt in a dense forest on a hill, about three kilometers from Bluebramble City. He then climbed to a high point on the slope with his scouts and observed the city carefully through a spyglass. “Inform the Staff Department. They can now send someone to deliver the diplomatic letter to Duke Carlo.”

According to the previous battle plan, quietly crossing the border and arriving directly at the gates of Bluebramble City to launch a surprise attack on a major lord of a neighboring country could easily embroil St. Valen and the Northern Realm in a diplomatic firestorm. After all, a civil war within a duchy and an official war with a neighboring nation were different in nature. Even with the absolute mess St. Valen and Da’ers were making of their border, neither nation had officially declared war, unwilling to escalate the conflict into an irreversible, full-scale war.

Harvey was now playing the same game. His rule over a secular kingdom as a Spellcaster was already a sensitive issue. If he didn’t want to force all the nations of the south to side with the Church, he had to at least ensure he had a just cause for his actions.

Delivering a diplomatic letter rebuking the other party for unprovoked border incursions and the plundering of his people was, in truth, just a formality. Everyone knew Duke Carlo would not simply yield, return the plundered treasures and grain, and pay a large sum of money to compensate for the war losses of the border populace as the document demanded.

The Duke would most likely scoff at it. Even if he were slightly more cautious, he wouldn’t immediately arrange to strengthen the city’s defenses and increase vigilance in his territory.

This was evident from their march across the border over the past few days. This border Grand Duke, who prided himself on his strong army and fortified city, seemed to have never considered the possibility that St. Valen would settle scores later. After retreating, he hadn’t even left behind small cavalry scouting parties. He was completely unaware that a formidable army had crept right under his nose.

The border Grand Duke, Carlo Koffman, sat on his high seat, looking askance at the messenger standing below. He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “The Lord of the Northern Realm of St. Valen certainly has a lot of free time. The situation in his own country isn’t even stable… and he’s already in a hurry to settle accounts with me, the Grand Duke of a neighboring fiefdom?”

He stood up, provocatively patting the side sword at his waist, and sneered, “Go back and tell the Lord of the Northern Realm that I was summoned by the Pope to St. Valen to rescue the believers you have persecuted and driven out. All my actions follow the traditional principle of mutual aid between noble lords and are beyond reproach.”

The young envoy’s face was flushed, and he seemed to be suppressing his anger. “Then is His Lordship the Grand Duke’s slaughter of a populace along the St. Valen border, his indulgence of his soldiers’ rampant looting, and the abduction of large quantities of grain and treasure… also in accordance with the traditional principles of the nobility?”

Duke Carlo shrugged, completely unconcerned. “I have to feed an expeditionary force of two thousand elite cavalry and three thousand mercenary infantry. Don’t they need to be given their stipend and rewards? Besides… the knights under my command are retainers of my vassal nobles; not all of them pledge fealty directly to me. I can’t stop them if they want to get opportunistic and seek some benefits for themselves. The Lord of the Northern Realm should know this as well as I do.”

As he spoke, the vassal knights standing in the great hall began to laugh softly. They found this neighboring lord, who had just captured the capital but hadn’t yet taken the throne, utterly ridiculous. It was a common occurrence for a neighboring country to take advantage of a civil war to launch raids. Yet he was so earnest as to send an envoy with a diplomatic letter, fantasizing that he could get back the meat that had already been stolen.

The mind of a Spellcaster was indeed corroded by mana, different from that of an ordinary person.

The envoy’s voice was grim. “In that case, is Your Excellency the Duke prepared to go to war with us again?”

Faced with the provocation of a young envoy who looked like he hadn’t even grown a full beard, Duke Carlo naturally paid it no mind. He chuckled, “Heh, I’ll be waiting in Bluebramble City for the Lord of the Northern Realm to come in person…”

Seeing this, the envoy said no more. He bowed, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly in a strange expression, and then he turned and left, heading straight out of the city.

After a while, a middle-aged man dressed as a high priest approached Duke Carlo and whispered, “Your Excellency the Duke, you mustn’t underestimate this Lord of the Northern Realm. It’s rumored he has many powerful spellcasters under his command and possesses magical weapons that are no inferior to the Federation’s.”

Duke Carlo pursed his lips and took a sip from his wine cup. “How many battle mages can a pioneer lord possibly have? If it weren’t for the Federation’s backing, do you think Goldshine City would have fallen so easily? The conflict between the Holy See and the Federation… is confined to St. Valen, after all. If he dares to have his spellcasters attack a noble lord of a neighboring country, hmph… isn’t he afraid the Federation won’t be able to withstand a joint crusade from all the nations of the south?”

He then turned and smiled. “Besides, we have plenty of battle priests and bloodline knights in the city right now. If a Mage Lord truly comes knocking, surely you won’t just stand by and watch?”

The high priest frowned, his expression strange as he lowered his voice. “In the past, we naturally couldn’t sit by and watch a Spellcaster throw the nations into chaos. But we just received a decree from the Holy City, ordering us to…”

Before he could finish, a fully armored City Guard knight suddenly hurried into the hall, his face pale with alarm. “My Lord Duke, a large army has suddenly been spotted approaching the city! Their flag emblems are very strange, we can’t identify them at all…”

The City Guard knight hadn’t even finished his report when a personal guard stumbled through the door, his voice trembling. “My Lord Duke, in the sky… there are flying magical constructs in the sky! They took off from outside the city and are flying straight toward us!”

“What? Magical constructs? Flying ones… Is it a high-level caster?” Duke Carlo’s heart leaped into his throat. He had just sent the Lord of the Northern Realm’s envoy away. Could he really have the ability to send a high-level caster to attack the very next second?

And what about the thousands of ordinary soldiers outside the city?

The high priest said gravely, “My Lord Duke, please proceed to the castle basement immediately to take shelter. If it truly is a high-level caster… we will be responsible for your safety.”

Duke Carlo nodded. Surrounded by his personal guards, he rose to his feet. As he hurried toward the castle basement, he gave a rapid series of commands, “Assemble my Bluebramble Knight Order, and the City Guard knights… Keep a close watch on the movements of that army outside the city! Release the birds and send for aid from my vassal nobles! Hmph… to think they can take my city with merely three thousand men, that’s utterly preposterous.”

Suddenly, a deafening, muffled thunder seemed to roll across the sky, accompanied by a slight tremor in the flagstones beneath their feet. Duke Carlo paused, placing a hand on the wall to steady himself as he listened.

“What was that noise?”

Another muffled clap of thunder echoed from the distance, followed by a continuous barrage of detonations… making one feel like they were in a tiny boat caught in the vortex of a thunderstorm.

At this, Duke Carlo dared not linger a moment longer. Fearing this was some kind of magic conjured by an attacking high-level caster, he rushed to the entrance of the secret chamber deep in the castle’s cellar. He was just about to turn and instruct the high priest to have someone search the Duke’s Manor to prevent a Spellcaster from sneaking in for an assassination attempt.

The City Guard knight who had just left to carry out his orders reappeared, his face covered in blood, his armor shattered. He collapsed at the Duke’s feet in a pathetic state, crying out in terror, “My Lord Duke… They… they’ve breached the city gates!”

Chapter 492: The Peculiar Priest

After blasting open Bluebramble City’s gates with five Magical-Powered Cannons, the Special Operations Squad, comprised of Bloodline Warriors, swiftly scaled the city walls. Using a combination of alchemical sidearms and revolvers, they effortlessly routed the several hundred defenders stationed on the walls.

After securing the walls, the main force began an orderly entry into the city under the cover of the Airships. Several high-explosive aerial bombs were dropped on the Bluebramble Knight Order’s garrison, the Duke’s Manor, and a silver foundry that was clearly flying the Border Grand Duke’s banner, engulfing them in a sea of flames from the violent explosions in less than half a moment.

Several groups of cavalry charged out from the narrow streets and alleys, attempting to halt the Northern Army’s advance into the city. But urban combat was clearly not the cavalry’s comfort zone. The streets, wide enough for only five or six knights to charge abreast, made the formations cramped and turned them into perfect sitting ducks… Just three or four volleys of rifle fire were enough to cut down these fearless knights. They fell dead in the street, never even getting a chance to swing their swords.

But the piles of enemy and horse corpses blocked the road to some extent, considerably slowing the Northern Army’s advance. Pierce keenly realized that Duke Carlo was sacrificing his knights’ lives to buy time for his own escape.

“Commander, we’ve spotted a squad of light cavalry leaving the city from the South Gate, heading towards the Barkley Capital, Maple Leaf City… They’re not flying any banners, so we can’t confirm if they’re Duke Carlo’s men.”

Pierce waved his hand dismissively. “It must be him. He’s quite self-aware—to be able to decisively order a retreat when the city fell. He’s smarter than most of those foolish nobles who choose to resist stubbornly in a hopeless situation.”

They had no intention of doing anything to Duke Carlo in the first place. After all, he was a feudal lord of a neighboring kingdom. By convention, nobles were not to be killed without cause in a war between two nations. Capturing him alive would, at most, yield a hefty ransom.

Their primary objective on this trip was the property, food, and supplies the duke had left behind in his fiefdom.

“After you control the Duke’s Manor, lock down the castle’s granary, the underground treasury, and the cavalry garrison where war materials are stored. Try not to disturb the local populace. We will begin confiscating the supplies after nightfall and move them out of the city quickly.”

As Pierce was giving orders for their next move, he suddenly heard a commotion up ahead. A soldier cried out in alarm, and someone else was shouting…

“What’s going on?” he demanded with a frown.

Vaughn, a battalion commander who had been fighting alongside the soldiers, ran over, panting. “Commander, ahead is the cathedral the Church built in Bluebramble City. We were planning to storm it and arrest or drive out those priests… But the civilian believers are fearlessly blocking the entrance, pressing their unarmed chests against our soldiers’ rifle muzzles.”

The Northern Army had always strictly required its soldiers to avoid civilian casualties in combat whenever possible. Faced with such a vexing situation, most of the soldiers were at a loss. Although they remained disciplined, holding their ground in a standoff with the civilians on the cathedral steps, no one dared to pull the trigger without a direct order from their commander and fire the first shot to kill a civilian.

Pierce understood the situation and raised his hand. “Halt the advance! Surround the cathedral and maintain a perimeter!”

The soldiers immediately followed the command, seamlessly changing their formation. They split into two squads to block the cathedral’s front and rear entrances. A group of snipers even climbed to the top of nearby buildings, setting up their sniper rifles and aiming through the cathedral’s massive window frames at the Church personnel trapped inside.

“The battle priests and bloodline knights have already escorted Grand Duke Carlo out of the city… The ones left in the cathedral are ceremonial priests with little combat ability, along with some ordinary ascetic monks and clerics.”

Pierce pursed his lips, remembering Harvey’s instructions before they set out—there was no need to use extreme measures against the Church’s non-combat clergy. They could just destroy the facilities and drive them out.

The Church was also a master of accumulating wealth. Having operated for so long in a prosperous city like Bluebramble, it was impossible for them not to have amassed a great fortune. While Pierce intended to let the people go, he had no intention of leaving behind that vast sum of money.

“They’re using the flesh and blood of commoners as a shield against us. It’s utterly hypocritical and shameless. Send someone to give them an ultimatum. If they disperse the crowd and leave the cathedral, I can guarantee that not a single priest will be harmed.”

He had barely finished speaking when the cathedral’s massive doors swung open. Several priests in pure white robes walked out. They passed the devout believers guarding the entrance and walked unhurriedly towards the Northern Army.

The vigilant soldiers mercilessly raised their rifles and aimed them at the approaching Church priests, shouting, “One more step and we will open fire!”

The lead priest lifted the hood from his head, revealing an aged face with sparse, graying hair and a beard. He called out in the direction of Pierce, “We wish to see the supreme commander of this army!”

Pierce, however, had no intention of speaking with them up close. From a distance of about ten meters, he said loudly, “I am the commander. What do you have to say?”

The elderly priest tremblingly took a badge-like object from his robes and handed it to a soldier beside him. He said loudly, “Within St. Valen… we are no longer permitted to operate openly. This was the only opportunity we had to contact you… We have a letter from the Holy City, written by His Holiness the Thirteenth Pope himself, for your Lord.”

Pierce’s expression froze for a moment, then he sneered, “A letter for our City Lord? Since when was our City Lord on such good terms with your Pope that they would correspond by letter?”

Wayne, a battalion commander standing nearby, was even more merciless with his words, taunting them without restraint. “What? After we wiped out a full Order of Inquisitorial Knights outside Goldshine City, the Pope finally remembers to write to our City Lord?”

“Is he looking to sue for peace? How much is Goris willing to pay in war reparations?”

The other priests’ faces turned pale, and they were clearly suppressing their anger but dared not show it. The old priest at the head of the group, however, remained unfazed. He spoke in a low voice, “Please, let us set aside the matters of the past for a moment. His Holiness the Pope’s letter contains an extremely important secret. The matter is of grave importance and allows no room for error. I myself have come from Goris, intending to pass through Barkley to reach the Northern Realm of St. Valen…”

He paused, then added, “If you can promise to deliver the letter safely, we are willing to unconditionally disperse the believers blocking your way. You may take all the valuables in the cathedral. We will not offer the slightest resistance.”

Pierce curled his lip and raised his hand. “Deal! The letter!”

The younger priests slowly backed away, leaving only the old priest standing there with his body hunched over.

“Where’s the letter?” Pierce asked with a frown, a hint of confusion in his voice.

The old priest raised a finger and pointed to himself. “I am the letter…” he said slowly. “This is a verbal order from His Holiness the Pope. It cannot be known to a third party besides the Lord of the Northern Realm himself. So… I must trouble you to take me to the Northern Realm.”

Chapter 493: Transporting Slaves

After a simple agreement was reached with the Church Priest, the devout followers gathered at the cathedral, persuaded by the Priests and clerics, soon gave up their standoff with the soldiers.

This brought a great sigh of relief from most of the Northern Army officers. Although the soldiers would obey orders without question, a command to shoot civilians would invariably damage the army’s morale. For a force largely composed of commoners, this could easily sow subtle ideological discord.

Vaughn was the first to lead his squad into the cathedral. They quickly expelled all the clergy, completely clearing out the massive building.

Next came the time to reap the rewards. As per the mission requirements, all books, antiques, weapons, and any other valuable supplies in the cathedral, just as in the Duke’s Manor, were confiscated and packed into crates to be transported out of the city.

In the cathedral’s basement, soldiers used alchemical bombs made from Dragon’s Flame powder to blast open the cellar’s heavy stone door, revealing a small room piled high with chests.

A soldier used his bayonet to pry open one of the chests, revealing it to be stuffed to the brim with gold coins. Everyone present drew in a sharp breath—the Church was even richer than Duke Carlo!

A preliminary visual estimate suggested that the gold pounds stored in the cathedral cellar numbered well over one hundred thousand. It seemed that after the Barkley Duchy began to expel and purge the Church’s influence, they had moved all their wealth from other regions of the country to Bluebramble City. They had not yet had a chance to transport it back to the Holy City of Goris, allowing the Northern Army to intercept it all.

Pierce pinched the bridge of his nose and ordered, “Immediately notify the two flank units. Have them bring the alchemical camel-beasts and rendezvous with the main force in Bluebramble City at once.”

Based on the spoils of war they had collected so far, the wealth and supplies they had gained from taking Bluebramble City so effortlessly would likely be too much to transport back in a single trip. And that wasn’t even counting the vast amounts of wheat that filled the granaries—a desperately needed resource that should be prioritized for transport over the gleaming gold coins.

After all, though Duke Carlo had abandoned the city and fled, he had taken most of his elite knights with him. He could still rely on the support of many military nobles whose fiefdoms were elsewhere, so his strength was not fundamentally damaged. If he managed to reach his vassals’ territories, regroup his forces, and return to Bluebramble City, he would cause immense trouble for the Northern Army’s transport operations.

Strike fast, loot, and run—that had always been the core principle of their “debt collection operation.”

…

On the third day, the Northern Army spent a good deal of time sorting the confiscated supplies within Bluebramble City and moving them in batches to their encampment outside the walls. They had to depart for home by the next morning at the latest.

But even with all their alchemical vehicles mobilized, nearly a third of the supplies still could not be moved. Pierce began to regret not having requisitioned more alchemical beasts for this operation before they set out.

Just as Pierce was agonizing over the transportation of supplies, the flank units led by Dav and Wayne arrived, having marched through the night. Using the superior mobility of their alchemical vehicles, they quickly reached Bluebramble City to rendezvous.

“Commander, on our way here, we passed a silver mine in a valley not far from Bluebramble City. We found quite a few people living there, guarded by a small squad of the Duke’s cavalry. The mining town didn’t have any walls, though, so we took it easily.” Dav rubbed his hands together gleefully. “We found dozens of chests of silver ingots in the Mining Area. Is that stuff valuable too? We were in a hurry to meet you, so we didn’t bring them back directly. We left some men to guard the place, and we can go back for them anytime.”

Bluebramble City had a population of just over ten thousand. Most of the miners and laborers who worked the silver mines did not live in the city but were scattered among various mining camps of different sizes in the valleys outside. This made the city itself seem sparsely populated, even more so than Grizzly Keep, the fiefdom of a border Earl.

Pierce nodded and said grimly, “Don’t get distracted by the silver mine. We can’t even transport all the supplies from Bluebramble City right now, so don’t be thinking about that heavy silver ore.”

Wayne stepped forward to add, “What about… what about the slaves at the mine? These people aren’t natives of the Barkley Duchy. Most of them were captured from various places by Duke Carlo’s slave traders and slave-catching squads. There are quite a few from our Duchy of St. Valen among them.”

Unlike St. Valen, the Barkley Duchy was one of the few secular kingdoms in the central south that permitted the legal trade of slaves. This was largely because the country was rich in mineral resources, and the noble lords of the various fiefdoms required a large supply of cheap labor to excavate ore for them, causing the slave trade to flourish.

“After you defeated the guard knights at the Mining Area, didn’t they just scatter and flee?”

Wayne shook his head, his voice turning somber. “The nobles didn’t even bother putting the slaves in shackles to prevent them from escaping… because every last one of them, man, woman, or child, has an extremely conspicuous slave brand on their face. If they escape, all it takes is for someone to spot them and report them, and the only fate that awaits them is the gallows.”

Pierce narrowed his eyes and pressed on, “How many slaves are in the valley mining area?”

“The largest mine we currently control holds over one thousand slaves alone. We haven’t had time to get a count from the other smaller mines in the area, but I estimate the total number is no less than three thousand.”

The biggest disadvantage of Bluebramble City’s location was the lack of any waterways for transport. To move the vast quantities of grain and supplies back to St. Valen by land, they would have to travel hundreds of miles on foot through hilly wilderness. Even with the aid of alchemical vehicles, it would take nearly a week to cross the border and reach Silverpine City, the nearest city in St. Valen.

Their current transport capacity was not even sufficient to carry all the supplies. If they were to bring this group of slaves along, it would not only slow down their return journey but also make them a highly conspicuous target for an attack by Duke Carlo’s regrouped army.

No matter how powerful the Northern Army’s firepower was, their ammunition and supplies were finite. They were fighting across the border, far from home. If their logistical support was compromised, even a group of well-equipped and well-trained professional soldiers could easily be trapped by the enemy’s frequent harassment tactics and eventually be worn down until they ran out of ammunition and food.

After careful consideration, Pierce decided he could not make this decision on his own and dutifully reported the situation up the chain of command using the Magic Brain device.

A reply came quickly, lifting Pierce’s frustrated mood considerably, though the content of the order itself left him bewildered.

Upon receiving the news, the City Lord had directly ordered him to bring back all the slaves stranded in the valley mining area. Furthermore, the rescued slaves could be organized to manually carry the portion of grain and supplies that the alchemical vehicles could not transport. This way, they could secure all the grain without leaving behind the wealth plundered by Duke Carlo and the Church.

What a “greedy” order, wanting to have it all…

But the City Lord had clearly anticipated the consequences of such a move. The combat troops would be severely slowed by the heavy supplies and the large number of slaves, and they would be vulnerable to sudden cavalry raids from Duke Carlo. In that scenario, their situation would be no different from marching through a swamp.

Therefore, at the end of the order, Harvey had left Pierce with a baffling message: “March as slowly as you need to. Ensure the safety of the supplies and the rescued slaves. I have already arranged for reinforcements. You do not need to worry about pursuit from Duke Carlo.”

Chapter 494: The Price of Freedom

“Hick, where are we going?”

“Are those soldiers with the strange iron rods going to execute us all at once?”

“Could they be selling us to mines in other cities? I’ve heard that many mine owners in the Duchy of Faros are also secretly buying slaves to replace their miners.”

Hick squatted down to tighten the laces on his leather boots, which were so worn that his toes poked through. Standing up, he shook his head. “This isn’t the right direction. We’re heading north… toward the border between Barkley and St. Valen. Definitely not toward Faros.”

Though only in his early thirties, Hick was one of the longest-serving slaves in the Valley Mine compared to the others who subconsciously clustered around him… because he had been born there.

The child of a slave was still a slave.

He unconsciously raised a hand to rub the uneven, scarred brand on his face. Although the wound from the hot iron had long since healed, the touch of his hand always brought back the memory of the unbearable, searing pain.

He had thought he would spend his life just like his parents, who had died young from overwork—born in the mines, die in the mines, and finally be tossed into one of the bottomless chasms in the mountainside…

He never expected that a few days ago, a group of strange soldiers would suddenly appear outside the mine. They didn’t even wear armor. Using only the metal rods in their hands that could unleash a terrifying magic, they had utterly crushed the more than one hundred guards and knights stationed at the mine, who fled in disarray after leaving behind dozens of blood-soaked corpses.

To nobles, slaves were nothing more than breathing private property, no different in essence from cattle or livestock. In his short twenty-odd years of life, Hick had witnessed several internal conflicts between nobles… Lords from neighboring fiefdoms had invaded the mine before, not satisfied even after seizing cartloads of newly smelted silver ingots. They had also snatched away many strong young slaves, selling them off to other parts of the duchy.

These soldiers who had defeated the mine guards and seized control of the entire Valley Mining Area must have come with the same purpose. Hick just hadn’t expected their appetite to be so large; not only did they transport away all the smelted silver ingots, but they were also taking every last slave from the mining area.

Could the renowned Duke Carlo have fallen completely from power?

They were the first group of slaves to arrive at Bluebramble City with these soldiers. But they weren’t put in ropes and shackles and sent into the city to await sale. Instead, they were taken directly to a temporary military camp outside the city, where a soldier, whose rank was impossible to discern from his clothes or appearance, began to loudly address them.

“We are the Northern Army from St. Valen, under the command of the Lord of the Northern Realm, the City Lord of Starfire City… and the current ruler of the Duchy of St. Valen, my lord Harvey.” The soldier held a brass megaphone, pointing to the golden emblem hanging high on the flagpole. “We dispatched our forces to Bluebramble City to punish Duke Carlo for his crime of invading our borders some time ago. Now that our mission is complete, we are about to return to St. Valen…”

The soldier did his best to explain through the megaphone, but the crowd of slaves below stared back with blank faces. They understood nothing of Lords of the Northern Realm or punishing crimes. Among this group of the lowest lowborn, who could neither read nor write, only locally-born slaves like Hick had the occasional chance to learn basic counting… but that was mainly to help the mine owners and foremen tally ore and manage the number of slaves.

Compared to the schemes and struggles of the powerful elite, they were far more concerned with where they would be sold next, and whether they would suffer the tragic fate of being executed as enemy soldiers to be counted as military achievements.

But the soldier’s next words made Hick snap his head up, his eyes widening.

“There is no need for you to worry. You will now have two choices before you… The first is to be released and sent back to the mine. Duke Carlo will surely return to Bluebramble City not long after we leave, and other nobles will naturally send troops to reoccupy the mining area. You can continue to live your old lives of labor.”

The soldier paused, then raised his voice again. “The second choice is to return with us to St. Valen. The slave trade is strictly forbidden within our country. The moment you set foot on St. Valen’s soil, it will mean you have regained your freedom. You will no longer be cruelly enslaved or arbitrarily sold… The price is that you must help us transport these supplies and provisions back to our country. Along the way, we promise to ensure your personal safety and provide all necessary rations and food.”

With a wave of his hand, a group of soldiers who had been waiting on the side clumsily carried over several massive stewpots. Many of the slaves had already noticed dozens of bonfires set up nearby, with pots simmering over them, wafting the fragrant scent of freshly cooked wheat.

“Those who are willing to come with us may now step forward and receive a portion of wheat porridge from the soldiers.”

“Those who wish to remain here, we will not stop you… You may leave the camp at once and go wherever you please…”

Hick grimaced. Where could a slave possibly go? he thought. Once branded with the mark of a slave, you could never escape your predetermined, miserable fate unless you hid in the deep mountains and wilderness, fighting with wild beasts for scraps to survive.

A low murmur of discussion rose from the crowd. Many turned their eyes to Hick, seemingly waiting for him to make the first move, a sign of their subconscious trust and reliance on him.

This conspicuous behavior caught the attention of the soldiers. A tall, powerfully built soldier, his face as brutish as a beast’s, suddenly walked into the crowd and stood before Hick. He spoke calmly, “Are you the leader of this group?”

Hick felt an overwhelming pressure from the man, more terrifying than even the foremen and guards who borrowed their masters’ authority to act fearsome. A cold sweat instantly drenched his back. He gritted his teeth and said with a tremor in his voice, “I’ve just helped a lot of people in the past, so they’re willing to listen to my opinion.”

The beast-faced soldier nodded and asked bluntly, “So what is your choice?”

Hick was silent for a long moment before mustering the courage to ask in return, “After helping you transport the supplies to St. Valen… how will you settle us? These people have no skills to make a living other than hard labor in the mines. And… and with the slave brands, even if we get to another country… there will be no place for us.”

The beast-faced soldier chuckled softly and shook his head. “Do you think we’ll just abandon you the moment we’re done using you? I can promise you right now, if you are willing to follow us all the way back to the Northern Realm of St. Valen, to Starfire City located in the barren lands, I guarantee that every one of you will not only have your freedom, but you will also be given a job sufficient to support yourselves. The elderly and sick will receive treatment, and children will receive an education… You will no longer have to huddle in mine shafts and shacks. Your labor will earn you comfortable, warm homes and food.”

Hick’s mind buzzed. He stared blankly for a moment before managing to say in a dry voice, “That… that can’t be true. Not even the local nobles would stoop to using such a clumsy lie to trick us into working ourselves to death for them…”

Vaughn let out a laugh. “You’re right,” he said softly. “They only need swords and whips to make you obey… To be frank, we could easily use the same methods. There’s no need to invent a lie to get your labor.”

His eyes burned into Hick’s as he said in a low voice, “So, are you willing to believe? Are you willing to believe in what you think is a clumsy lie? Why not take a gamble?”

Let it be the price one must pay for freedom.

Chapter 495: Aid from Da’ers

In the mountain forests and open fields along the border between Barkley and St. Valen, a squad of elite knights in full armor galloped on their horses. When they passed a winding stream, they reined in their mounts to take a short rest.

The leading knight’s armor was gleaming. He wore a deep red cape, on which was embroidered a Blue Thornbird holding a laurel branch in its beak—the family crest of Duke Carlo, which also served as the royal emblem of Barkley.

“Baron Dela, once we pass through this forest, we’ll be able to circle around in front of those St. Valen soldiers. What are our orders then?”

Baron Dela narrowed his eyes and said cautiously, “Those people from St. Valen possess powerful magical weapons that can even pierce high-grade steel plate armor. Ordinary knights stand no chance against them…”

This was precisely why Duke Carlo had sought them out as soon as he had fled to his vassal’s territory. Baron Dela was a bloodline knight trained by the Koffman family. Years ago, due to a conflict of faith, he had parted ways with the royal family, which favored Spellcasters, and instead pledged his allegiance to the Border Grand Duke, who also leaned towards the Church.

The combat capabilities of bloodline knights and regular cavalry were on completely different levels. Although they were still wary of the enemy’s powerful weapons, as long as they avoided a direct confrontation and employed hit-and-run tactics, they could still be effective.

Duke Carlo had the very same idea. The St. Valen forces were burdened with a large amount of supplies and equipment, and they also had to escort a great number of slaves abducted from the mines. The entire column’s advance was severely slowed. Furthermore, the path back to St. Valen was nothing but wilderness and dense forests, with no towns or farms along the way for resupply or rest. If they lost their way or ran out of supplies, they would immediately descend into chaos.

Baron Dela’s mission was to lead fifty bloodline knights in repeated raids and harassment to make the enemy’s already slow march even more difficult. They would target the slaves, who were already like startled birds, and incite them to riot and flee out of fear, thereby breaking up the formation of the St. Valen soldiers… The main cavalry force could then strike amidst the chaos and tear a chunk of flesh from this group from St. Valen.

Of course, Baron Dela’s squad was not an isolated force. On their flank was another small, mobile team of knights, just as stealthy, led by Duke Carlo’s nephew, Sir Derek. The two cavalry units would coordinate and take turns harassing the St. Valen soldiers.

In Duke Carlo’s own words—since those from St. Valen had made him suffer a great loss through a surprise attack, it was only natural for them to repay the favor in kind.

…

The knights finished their rest and were about to mount their horses to continue their journey when a sudden commotion came from the dense forest ahead.

It sounded like some kind of small wild animal, startled and fleeing.

One of the bloodline knights decisively drew a bow and arrow from his saddle and fired a shot into the woods. But strangely… there was no sound of the arrow hitting its target. It was as if the arrow had flown into a void, swallowed silently by the dense undergrowth.

This was clearly not normal. The archer knight had awakened an extremely rare talent called “Sound-Seeker,” which allowed him to accurately hit any target within a certain range as long as he could perceive the sound it made.

“Everyone, mount up and stay alert!” Baron Dela raised his hand and drew his sword. His bloodline power surged through his body, channeling down his arm and into the longsword in his grip. The blade shimmered with a silver light… That was his bloodline talent, “Sharpen.”

Just then, the scout cavalryman suddenly shouted, “Trouble! There’s a mana reaction in the forest! It’s Spellcasters!”

He had barely finished speaking when dozens of fist-sized rocks shot out from the thicket. A few of the closer knights had no time to react, instinctively raising their swords to strike the flying stones. The terrifying force of the impact shattered their longswords and threw them from their horses.

Baron Dela was furious. He reined in his spooked horse and roared, “Come out! You despicable wizards!”

His response was an even larger slab of rock, which flew out of the dense woods and slammed down towards the baron… Baron Dela didn’t dare meet it with his sword. He could only leap from his horse in a sorry state, rolling to the side. His beloved warhorse, however, couldn’t dodge in time. It was smashed to the ground with a heavy thud. The barding on its chest and belly was caved in, and blood trickled from the gaps in the armor. The horse let out two mournful whinnies before it stopped breathing.

Immediately after, more rocks and stone slabs flew out. In an instant, two more knights who failed to dodge were struck. They were thrown from their horses, their armor shattered and their bodies a mangled, bloody pulp. The powerful talents of the bloodline knights kept them from dying instantly, leaving them to writhe and groan in agony.

In the midst of the chaos, Baron Dela suddenly noticed something wasn’t right. These Spellcasters, hiding and ambushing them, seemed to be launching stones from only one angle and area. They hadn’t revealed themselves or changed positions, which seemed highly illogical.

A thought flashed through his mind. He immediately raised his sword and yelled, “It’s clustered casting! These damned wizards can’t interrupt their spellcasting while in formation, nor can they spare a hand to defend themselves! Dodge the rocks and charge into the forest! In close combat, they’re sure to lose!”

Hearing this, the knights’ morale soared. They used their agility to dodge the flying stones or skillfully controlled their mounts, using the warhorses as cover to rapidly approach the forest ahead.

Baron Dela hung back slightly. He swung his sword and hacked through the dense undergrowth, and his view suddenly opened up… A dozen meters away, a squad of soldiers in black uniforms stood in front of a group of brown-robed wizards. Positioned before them were several strangely shaped alchemical devices, similar to Dragon’s Flame projectors.

A sturdy officer, whose features were clearly not Human, suddenly broke into a savage grin. He raised his hand and bellowed, “Fire!”

A torrential downpour of gunfire immediately echoed through the woods.

The knights who charged into the woods ran one after another into the dense barrage of bullets. Their bodies erupted in sprays of blood, and they fell in droves, cut down like wheat… When the smoke cleared, all that remained was a field of bloody, shattered corpses.

Baron Dela was lucky enough to avoid the main barrage… His two personal guards had tackled him to the ground at the critical moment, shielding him with their bodies. However, his left leg was struck by a flying piece of shrapnel from somewhere, and half of his kneecap was sheared off.

He struggled to push the shattered corpses off of him and used his sword to prop himself up. His eyes, bloodshot, glared at the beast-faced officer. He could clearly sense the bloodline power surging within the other man’s body—he, too, was a bloodline knight.

The baron opened his mouth and said hoarsely, “How did you find us?”

The beast-faced officer grinned and pointed a finger to the sky. But Baron Dela shook his head fiercely, “Impossible! Your flying vehicles never appeared!”

The officer curled his lip in disdain. “Ever heard of optical camouflage? It can easily fool your eyes.”

Baron Dela was stunned for a moment, then gave a bitter smile. “May I request that you do it yourself? I don’t wish to die at the hands of ordinary mortals…”

Vaughn nodded and motioned for the soldiers to lower their guns, which were aimed at the baron. But the baron seized the opportunity, pulling an alchemical flare from his clothes and hurling it into the sky… With a whoosh, the flare shot up and exploded high above, bursting into a dazzling red light.

“Facing imminent death, and you still try to signal for help?” Vaughn was a bit perplexed. “We can just wait here. Your signal will only lead your reinforcements into a trap.”

Baron Dela shook his head. “No, I’m signaling them to get away immediately. To ambush our squad, you must have pulled all your Spellcasters and bloodline knights from the main force, right? My flanking cavalry will rush your transport column as soon as they see the signal. I hope that by the time you get back, the slaves from the mine haven’t all escaped.”

Vaughn tilted his head. At his signal, a soldier suddenly threw a bloody head in front of Baron Dela.

“This fellow called Sir Derek… was he your flanking cavalry?”

Chapter 496: Returning Fully-Laden

Duke Carlo’s cavalry harassment tactics were not, in fact, detected by the Northern Army’s airships. The three airships they had brought on this military campaign had already exhausted their supply of liquid magical energy during the attack on Bluebramble City. With no way to receive replenishment, they couldn’t take to the skies again and were directly dismantled by the engineers to be shipped back to their country.

The ones who discovered the tracks of the two bloodline knight squads were actually the Mage Corps from Da’ers—the very reinforcements the City Lord had personally promised Pierce. They simply never imagined that the reinforcements would turn out to be the Federation’s battle mages.

Using a clustered spell known as “Earth Listening,” they accurately detected the movements of the two bloodline knight squads. Pierce unhesitatingly dispatched two Special Operations Squads, also composed of Bloodline Warriors and armed with heavy weapons, to defeat them one by one.

This group, composed entirely of earth elemental casters, excelled at clustered casting through connecting formations. Although they were all mid-to-low-level casters with weak individual combat abilities, with the assistance and protection of the Northern Army, they could freely use the terrain to their advantage and launch magical ambushes against the enemy.

“It’s a great honor to fight alongside you!” The leader of the Mage Corps was surprisingly a woman about the same age as Ms. Astrologer. She had a head of flowing, deep-red hair and a rather gentle and beautiful face. When she took the initiative to shake Vaughn’s hand, the honest half-orc blushed in embarrassment.

“Uh… uh, it’s our honor to fight with the Federation’s Spellcasters as well,” Vaughn said, scratching his head before adding in a quiet mutter, “We never expected Spellcasters to be the ones sent to reinforce us.”

The female mage chuckled, tilting her head in confusion. “As a Bloodline Warrior, unless you hail from the Church… your Bloodline Progenitor should also be a Spellcaster, shouldn’t they? Have you truly never operated alongside battle mages before?”

Vaughn shook his head and explained, “In the Northern Realm… Spellcasters rarely participate in combat missions. They prefer to conduct magical research in their laboratories or work with technicians in workshops to create some novel magical construct.”

“Oh? So the rumors are actually true? Under the Mage Lord of the North, all Spellcasters prefer to live and work alongside mortals, and even their magical experiments and research topics follow suit…”

Vaughn nodded honestly. These things weren’t exactly secrets in Starfire City. Since the rumors had reached her ears, it meant they were already common knowledge, at least within spellcasting circles.

The female mage chatted with him for a few more moments. Once the soldiers had mostly finished clearing the battlefield, she placed a hand on her chest and bowed. “Our mission is complete. We won’t be returning to the main army with you. Farewell!”

Vaughn’s heart sank. He quickly said, “Farewell… Ms., I… My name is Vaughn. May I ask your…”

The earth mages filed into the dense mountain forest one after another. The female mage, who was at the back of the group, turned her head and smiled. “You can call me Bedrock.”

…

Harvey sat in his office in the castle, carefully reading the mission report transmitted back by the Magic Brain device.

This punitive expedition against the border lord of the neighboring country had been full of twists and turns. Before setting out, they had misjudged the sheer amount of spoils of war to be captured, leading to a severe insufficiency in their pre-planned logistical transport capacity.

After unexpectedly taking in a large group of mine slaves, they managed to bring all the supplies and baggage on the return journey with the help of manual labor. The downside was that their originally swift marching speed was completely slowed down. If Harvey hadn’t requested aid from the Federation’s Mage Corps stationed in Da’ers beforehand, they might have been unable to cross the border region for a long time under the frequent harassment of Duke Carlo’s bloodline knights.

Once their ammunition and supplies were depleted without timely reinforcement, the first to break and flee would surely have been those already anxious slaves. The resulting chaos would have undoubtedly triggered a series of negative chain reactions. The covetously watching Duke Carlo would certainly not have let such an opportunity slip by, and perhaps the undefeated Northern Army would have suffered a great setback.

This first true overseas military operation served as a solid reminder for Harvey: in regions where logistical supply lines could not provide complete coverage, he must never rashly deploy a large number of troops for military action. In the future, he must adhere to the firm principle that the army would only advance as far as its supply lines extended!

Of course, this “debt collection trip abroad,” though fraught with peril, had indeed alleviated the current urgent shortage of food and other resources. The money and gleaming silver ingots confiscated from Duke Carlo alone were enough to pay the bills for the wheat Harvey had purchased at high prices from several major merchant guilds in the south.

The confiscated grain, having been plundered from the areas around Black Mountain Port and Silverpine City in the first place, was naturally arranged to be sent back along the same route. The newly established local municipal administrations would properly distribute it to the suffering populace, preventing them from tragically enduring hunger during the upcoming harvest season.

In addition, a brand new “sweet trouble” now lay before Harvey—the mine slaves, numbering around three thousand in total, were a completely unplanned development. They were currently traveling with a portion of the expeditionary Northern Army, having boarded ships in Silverpine City to head north. They would arrive in Starfire City within half a month at most.

By then, this contingent of three thousand slaves would converge with the several groups of refugees from the barren lands led by Duncan. Starfire City’s largest population growth in its history would occur right around the time of the Harvest Festival.

The mere thought of it made Harvey’s temples throb and his head spin.

The various aspects involved were simply too complex. The already overloaded City Hall would likely suffer a devastating impact. Food supply, housing, free medical care, public security… all of it would face immense challenges.

At this thought, an idea flashed through Harvey’s mind. He got up, walked to the Magic Brain device, and logged into his agent account. He then pulled “Heart of the Forest” and “Frost Giant,” the two founding members from the Elven and Dwarven races, into a private chat room.

[Kel’Thuzad: I’m sure you both have heard that Starfire City is about to cooperate with the Federation to establish a “New Federation” in the Northern Realm, correct?]

[Heart of the Forest: Although they haven’t discussed it publicly at the gatherings, it’s already common knowledge on the Forum.]

[Frost Giant: Indeed, I knew it! Mr. Kel’Thuzad wouldn’t forget us independent members who stand firmly with the Forum! Hmph, those who are so keen on forming exclusionary cliques are truly despicable!]

[Kel’Thuzad: The Northern Realm’s “New Federation” is, after all, built on the foundation of the Forum and shares secret knowledge that originates from it. After tasting benefits like the “Gun of Annihilation”, it’s only natural for the Federation to subconsciously be unwilling to share it with members of other factions. This is quite normal.]

[Kel’Thuzad: However, if I can guarantee that… those young Elven and Dwarven exchange students you both sent to Starfire City can hold some important positions in the Northern Realm’s New Federation in the future, what would you say?]

[Heart of the Forest/Frost Giant: What is the price, Mr. Kel’Thuzad?]

[Kel’Thuzad: I need to borrow your races’ ancestral treasures, the Heart of the Golden Tree and the Earth Crystal Core, to create a Stone of Life that can make thousands of plants grow rapidly, using a method recorded in the Federation’s ancient texts!]

The handles for Heart of the Forest and Frost Giant suddenly began to flash intensely, indicating they were likely in a rapid private discussion. After a long while, they sent a definitive message at the same time.

[Deal!]

Chapter 497: A Letter from the Holy City

“State your name!”

A rough hand reached for the old priest’s forehead and tore away the cotton cloth covering his eyes.

The sudden flood of light made him sway unsteadily. He squinted for a long while before whispering, “Theron. Theron Garrett…”

The priest looked up slightly. In the magnificent castle hall, a young man with black hair and black eyes sat upon a high-backed chair at the top of several steps. Judging by his appearance alone… he looked to be not even twenty years old.

This was… the Lord of the Northern Realm?

The young man suddenly spoke, his voice surprisingly deep and gentle, nothing like the cold, hard tone of other Spellcasters. “Priest Garrett, I hear you have a verbal order from the Pope that you wish to deliver to me personally?”

From the moment Garrett was taken from Barkley to Goldshine City’s old capital, he had been under the strict surveillance of two Bloodline Warriors aboard an ironclad ship. Upon reaching the border of Grizzly Bear Territory, he was blindfolded. He could sense that they had changed modes of transport several times along the way, but none of them felt like a carriage… Even now, he had no idea how they had so quickly crossed the towering Spine of the Continent Mountains, arriving in the barren lands in less than a day.

“Forgive my impertinence, My Lord… His Holiness the Pope’s verbal order can only be heard by you alone.”

The implication was that all the personal guards currently standing watch in the castle hall and eyeing him covetously had to be dismissed. Not even a single servant could remain.

Hearing this, Iron Head, the deputy leader of the personal guard, frowned. Anger flared on his face, which was twisted by burn scars. “Old holy roller, if you dare make such an impudent request and disrespect the City Lord again, I’ll slap you to the ground!”

The Captain, Tommy, also narrowed his eyes. Though he said nothing, the threat in his gaze was plain to see.

Garrett, however, was unafraid. He stood in the center of the hall, hands tucked into his sleeves, and said with his eyes closed, “If Your Excellency cannot accept, then you may execute me now.”

Harvey chuckled and waved a hand. “All of you, stand down for now…”

“My lord! This damned holy roller…”

Harvey shook his head and said seriously, “Before his audience with me, he was thoroughly examined by Arturo and the other Spellcasters. There isn’t even the faintest fluctuation of low-level divine arts within his body. He is, for all intents and purposes, an ordinary man.”

Only then did the personal guards relent. They bowed and left the hall one by one.

“Alright, you may now deliver the Pope’s message.”

Garrett took a long breath and began in a solemn voice, “His Holiness the Pope asks me to inquire with you, My Lord: what are your views on mortals?”

“Does this have anything to do with the conflict between the Spellcasters and the Church?” Harvey asked with a puzzled frown.

“Mortals are insignificant, short-lived, foolish, and ignorant. They spend their entire lives toiling away, never knowing where they came from or where they are going,” Garrett said slowly, as if to himself. “Similarly… as servants of the gods, or even as Spellcasters like you who pursue truth and wisdom, they are just as lost and ignorant. The vast majority can strive their whole lives and never know the truth of the world.”

Harvey tapped a finger on the back of his chair, growing impatient. “What are you trying to say? Or rather, what message is the Pope trying to convey to me?”

“In his prayers, His Holiness the Pope received a divine revelation. In the near future… the peoples of the south will face an invasion by a non-human race far more powerful and terrifying than the Demons. They will sweep south with the full might of their entire race. The peoples of the south, already fractured and fighting amongst themselves, will have no power to resist.”

Garrett delivered the most crucial part of the message in a single breath, then looked up to meet the gaze of Harvey, who was seated in the seat of honor. He tried to spot the expected fear, confusion, and panic in Harvey’s expression.

But he was disappointed. The other man’s expression was unnaturally calm. Only a slight furrowing of his brow indicated he was deep in thought.

After a long moment, Harvey finally spoke slowly. “I want to know how the Pope obtained this information. And don’t give me any talk about divine revelations… In our several clashes, at least, I have never once witnessed the gods you worship manifesting themselves.”

Garrett took a deep breath, not angered by Harvey’s cynical remarks. He said urgently, “The Church was founded for the very purpose of using the power of faith to unite the peoples of the south, to stand together against the powerful non-human race that seeks to destroy us. If not for the sudden rise of the Spellcasters, we would have had more time to prepare for the coming disaster!”

Harvey couldn’t help but laugh at that. “I can agree with you on one point—that the Church intends to unite the peoples of the south… But to say that the rise of Spellcasters has hindered you is pure nonsense.”

He stood up and walked down the steps to stand before Garrett. “Relying on the Blood-Summoning Secret Art obtained from the Demons to create and train extraordinary bloodline knights? Relying on magic stolen from the ancient wizards, modified and then proclaimed as divine arts bestowed by the gods? Forgive my bluntness, but you have, in fact, been defeated by my hand many times.”

Harvey paused, then continued bluntly, “Therefore, I do not believe the Church has the ability to control the situation in the south, much less do I think you can successfully lead its peoples against a great non-human enemy.”

Overwhelmed by Harvey’s terrifying presence, Garrett unconsciously averted his gaze again and lowered his head. He whispered, “You are right. Even if the Federation is no cause for concern, we should not have underestimated you… That was a wrong choice on our part.”

He gasped twice, as if drowning, and after a moment’s pause, continued, “Having learned from all our previous lessons, we believe it is essential to form an alliance and cooperate with you. For the sake of our people’s survival, please let us set aside all past conflicts and disputes for the time being.”

After speaking, Garrett extended his right hand and opened his palm. A strange, faintly glowing golden emblem suddenly appeared in his once-empty palm. “If you are willing to accept, you can form a Pact of Secrecy with me… Afterward, I will reveal to you all the ancient, hidden histories concerning the non-human invasion. You will then truly see how powerful and terrifying the enemy our people will face in the future is…”

Before he could finish, Harvey suddenly burst out laughing.

“You don’t believe me? Or do you doubt the sincerity of the Holy See?” Garrett closed his hand and said earnestly, “This is not a trap for you. You know very well that I am just a head priest with absolutely no divine art abilities. As His Holiness the Pope’s Secret Intercessor, my only duties are to record and transmit the ancient secrets of the Holy See. I do not involve myself in any other matters… The internal strife between the various factions of the Church has no bearing on my position whatsoever.”

Just then, a tall alchemical cybernetic that had been standing silently beside Harvey’s City Lord throne suddenly came to life. Two flickering, dark-red soul fires ignited within its dark metal eye sockets, and a deep, magnetic voice emerged from it.

“My lord, it seems he is not lying.”

A living alchemical construct! Garrett subconsciously took two steps back, turning to look at Harvey in disbelief.

“No need to be afraid. It means you no harm,” Harvey explained slowly, suppressing his laughter. “I just find it unnecessary. After all… the intelligence I have on our non-human enemies is likely far greater than what you know from your ancient texts and successive legacies.”

Chapter 498: Laying the Cards on the Table

Garrett was not blindfolded again. Instead, at Harvey’s invitation, he followed him from the castle’s main hall straight down into the underground, entering the laboratory rumored to be the most important place for a Spellcaster.

A piece of coarse leather, neatly cut and spread flat, rested on a metal table. A nearby laboratory cart was stacked with various bottles and jars of potions. A man in a light, short robe was bent over, busy with his work.

An Alchemist… but he isn’t wearing the standard robes of the Esoteric Society. He must be a private Alchemist belonging to the Lord of the Northern Realm.

Could it be that their powerful magical weapons were created in this very laboratory by this unremarkable Alchemist?

Garrett subtly glanced at him a few more times, firmly committing his appearance to memory.

“Mr. Priest, what does this leather… look like to you?” Harvey asked softly, pointing to the strange object on the table.

Garrett came back to his senses, lowered his head to observe it carefully for a moment, and mused, “Although it’s been cut into a humanoid shape, I am one hundred percent certain it is not human skin, nor is it the hide of any humanoid creature like a Dwarf or an Elf. Its source must be some kind of magical creature… I surmise it’s used for sacrificial rites in the worship of some primitive gods?”

Harvey pursed his lips, certain now that the Church knew nothing about the true nature of the Demonic Lizardmen.

He glanced sideways at his personal guards, who immediately understood. They walked over to a corner of the room and pulled the tarp off a large, upright glass tank—revealing the true form of a Demonic Lizardman, frozen within.

“By the Light! What… What is that?” Garrett let out a low cry of disbelief. He staggered to the side of the glass tank and pressed his entire face against the glass wall, his eyes wide as he stared at the Demonic Lizardman frozen inside.

Harvey keenly noted that his face showed clear shock, but not a trace of fear.

He cleared his throat, stepped forward, and explained in a low voice, “This is the powerful non-human enemy you spoke of… an intelligent being that we captured and named the Demonic Lizardman.”

“They’ve already appeared in the south?”

Harvey shook his head and said with complete openness, “We found traces of them deep within the barren lands. Their population size is unknown… but for now, it should only be a small number of vanguards that are active.”

Garrett struggled to tear his gaze away from the frozen Demonic Lizardman, his voice dry as he murmured, “How could it be in the barren lands… The Sacred Prophetic Texts clearly… clearly predicted that ‘The Calamity comes from the deep sea’!”

Harvey chuckled. “It seems that due to excessive secrecy and deliberate concealment, much key information has been lost from your historical records. The truth is, deep within the Northern Barren Lands, there is also a vast ice sea, no smaller than the one in the south.”

The old priest sucked in a sharp breath. “In the past, we sent many expeditions to explore north of the barren lands,” he said in a low voice, “but besides the ubiquitous vile orc tribes and scattered Demon settlements, we found nothing… Could it be that we simply didn’t go far enough?”

Harvey shrugged, choosing not to reveal the specific location of the frozen tundra and its ice sea. Instead, he changed the subject. “Now you should understand why I have no need to consider issues like secrecy or forming an alliance, correct?”

Garrett lowered his eyes, looking dejected. “Indeed. I was too blindly faithful and arrogant.”

He paused, then raised his hands, crossed them over his chest, and bowed slightly to Harvey in a peculiar salute. “Before I came, His Holiness told me… if the Lord of the Northern Realm chooses to ally with the Church, then we will do everything in our power to help you supplant the Federation’s supreme status and influence in the world of Spellcasters…”

Harvey was somewhat surprised. “And if I refuse to ally with you?”

The old priest lowered his head, his tone incomparably resolute. “If you refuse… His Holiness the Pope implores you to dispatch your army to Goris and seize the Holy City directly!”

…

“What? The Pope wants us to send an army to take out his own headquarters?” In his extreme shock, Rainer’s tone was charged with emotion. “There are only two possibilities: it’s a trap, or the Pope has gone mad!”

Astaren, however, mulled it over for a moment before offering a cautious guess. “Perhaps there’s another possibility… The Pope has lost absolute control over the Holy City and has become a figurehead, a puppet with no real power.”

Harvey nodded in agreement. “That’s a very high possibility. In fact, there have always been rumors in the world of Spellcasters that the Holy See has been dominated in recent years by the Divine Punishment Faction, which reveres witch hunting.”

“But that’s no reason to let the wolf into the house, to use the power of Spellcasters to help them win an internal struggle, is it?”

“I suspect the one who sent the signal for an alliance to my lord City Lord is not the Thirteenth we are familiar with…”

Arturo’s family had fought a battle of wits and will with the Church for generations, so he knew more about its secrets and traditions than the others. Seeing the confused expressions on their faces, he continued to explain, “Our past understanding of the Holy See was limited to the fact that after each Pope ascends the throne, he is regarded as the mortal incarnation of a god. The new Pope’s origins and name are completely erased from all records, and he is referred to only by his regnal number.”

Astaren nodded. “That’s right. Back in the era I lived in, the Pope at the time was called the Eleventh.”

Rainer muttered, “That was three or four hundred years ago. Even if there was a Twelfth in between, their lifespans are a bit too long. It can’t be that every Pope has the bloodline of the long-lived Elven race, can it?”

Egnor rolled his eyes and retorted, “Absolutely not! The Elven race believes in the primitive gods who are incarnations of nature. They would never convert to the God of Glory, much less join the Holy See!”

Harvey shook his head and sighed. “Unfortunately, after Priest Garrett delivered the Pope’s verbal order, he informed me that due to his special status as a Secret Intercessor, he would henceforth enter a state of absolute silence… He will no longer communicate with me. Otherwise, we might have found a way to figure out what this scandalous request from the Pope really means.”

…

There was no point in overthinking it. Harvey had more important matters to consider right now. The question of whether the Church was an enemy or a friend… could be set aside for now. He would think about it more deeply after he was done with his current tasks.

The crisis within the Duchy of St. Valen had been resolved, so he no longer had to worry about the chaos in the central region of the south affecting the expansion of his sphere of influence. The ice sea exploration base was also largely complete, a permanent outpost nailed firmly to the front lines of the non-human invasion, which could slightly ease Harvey’s anxiety about the unknown enemy.

The most urgent task now was undoubtedly to assimilate the recent, massive influx of migrants while simultaneously ramping up production and development to be fully prepared to face the enemy.

The population that could be migrated to and absorbed by St. Valen had reached its limit. Forcibly conscripting people unwilling to leave their homeland and making them move north was not an optimal choice. Therefore, Harvey immediately turned his attention to plundering the populations of the neighboring countries.

“My lord, the population of Starfire City and its surroundings is already close to eighty thousand. There has never been such a large and populous city in all the nations of the south. Just feeding and providing for these people is already a miracle… If we continue to expand without limit, I worry it will cause the city to spiral out of control!”

“Since the Church has taken the initiative to extend an olive branch to us, it will inevitably make certain concessions over a long period of time…” Harvey said in a deep voice. “This will also directly lead to changes in the political situation in the south. Conflicts and wars between the noble royal families will become frequent. This is a great opportunity for us to absorb people and expand rapidly.”

From the perspective of a single city or territory, unlimited population growth would indeed cause many problems. But if one changed their perspective and viewed it as a country with a highly concentrated population, it all seemed perfectly logical.

Therefore, Harvey felt it was time to change his status and officially declare himself the supreme ruler of Starfire City and the Duchy of St. Valen. This way, he could justifiably join the shark tank of power politics where the secular nobility tore each other apart, and become a “great white shark” that devoured everything.

Chapter 499: Gunboat Diplomacy

Early the next morning, Rainer found Astaren and several other high-ranking officials of Starfire City, and together they went to Harvey’s castle to request an audience.

Harvey, who had originally made a rare effort to wake up early to inspect the “Naval Training Base” on the banks of the Icefield River, was forced to halt his plans and listlessly attend the tedious political meeting.

Rainer pulled a letter stamped with the royal sigil of Barkley from a folder, stood up, and handed it to Harvey. “This is from the Barkley royal family, personally written by Queen Koffman… It rebukes you for ignoring the pact between nations, rashly sending troops to invade another country’s territory, and seizing the property and slaves of many border dukes.”

Harvey frowned, confused. “Koffman… Queen? Is my memory failing me? Isn’t the current king of the Barkley Duchy Earlie Koffman?”

Rainer and Astaren exchanged a glance and said with a wry smile, “That’s also why we asked you to attend this political meeting today. This Queen Koffman… she just ascended to the throne shortly after our troops withdrew and returned to St. Valen.”

Starfire City’s vast and swift intelligence network can currently only cover the entirety of St. Valen. Although its tendrils have extended to neighboring countries, it has not yet had the strength to infiltrate the upper echelons of other nations in such a short time. Naturally, it couldn’t learn of the change in power within their royal families in a timely manner.

“This letter, filled with diplomatic platitudes, doesn’t entirely represent the Barkley royal family’s true position,” Astaren quickly explained. “According to our intelligence, when this Queen Koffman was still the Crown Prince, she publicly expressed her leanings towards Spellcasters… She herself never even received the Holy See’s baptism upon coming of age, and she refused to go to the Holy City to be crowned by the Pope for her accession ceremony, handling it with unusual discretion.”

She must have been influenced by the “Earth’s Favored,” that high-level caster with royal blood…

Harvey was quite satisfied with this outcome. He nodded and said, “In that case, send them a formal diplomatic letter in reply. Congratulate the queen on her official coronation, but there’s no need to over-explain the recent conflict between our two nations… They know very well the reason and purpose for our military action.”

He then casually gestured at a thick stack of letters that Rainer had taken out and placed on the table, asking curiously, “Where are these from? All diplomatic letters from neighboring countries?”

Rainer said glumly, “No, they’re from the noble lords within the Duchy who have submitted…”

He paused, then continued his report, “Under the deterrence of our army, most of them are willing to hand over the lands under their name. However, the reclamation of military authority and their titles has met with widespread opposition. The content of these letters all urges you to preserve the nobles’ right to fiefs and military command, and not to let this ancient and glorious tradition be tarnished.”

“Tarnished?” Astaren sneered. “Are they perhaps aspiring to the same fate as those convicted nobles who were shot or hanged along with their titles and subordinates?”

Harvey shrugged, unconcerned. “After the Harvest Festival, this bunch—who have submitted in name but resist in secret—will naturally find out what kind of choice they’re facing.”

Rainer tensed up and quickly asked, “Are we to immediately dispatch troops against these nobles who feign compliance?”

Harvey waved a hand and said slowly, “The same goes for them. Send them a reply… Tell them to come to the Northern Realm immediately and pledge fealty to me in person.”

If they were unwilling, he wouldn’t mind sending troops to personally “invite” them.

Astaren pondered for a moment before suggesting softly, “My lord, the noble leading the opposition is the Earl of Westwind, Leon Waters. Due to the tradition of marriage between the royal families of St. Valen and the Alyrid Duchy, he is also the heir to the throne of the Alyrid Duchy.”

“Oh?” Harvey said in surprise. “So he’s a noble lord in our country and also the royal heir of a neighboring country?”

“Correct. So if we force him to come to the Northern Realm, he will absolutely refuse and will see the demand as a threat from you, causing the Alyrid Duchy to become hostile towards us.”

Rainer and Astaren were clearly considering the upcoming autumn harvest and the massive influx of people, and were inclined to avoid another military expedition abroad, preferring a peaceful resolution to the problem.

Harvey was naturally aware of this, but compared to the intricate power struggles among the royal families and nobles of the nations of the south, he preferred to solve problems directly and get straight to the point. When there’s a huge disparity in strength between two sides, using force to deliver a warning is the only truly effective diplomatic tool.

“I was planning to threaten them from the start…” Harvey didn’t even bother to pretend. “If the Earl of Westwind insists on leading the opposition against me, then after the autumn harvest, the Alyrid Duchy can just get a new heir. During these special times, all of St. Valen’s neighboring countries must choose to stand with us. Anyone who dares to stick their head out and sing a different tune, I’ll have them step down immediately.”

Starfire City’s diplomacy would never be confined to haggling at the negotiation table. Under the deterrence of steel cannons empowered by magic, Harvey was a dictator who absolutely had the ability to flip the table. As long as it was beneficial to achieving a united front in the south… whether it was interfering in the internal affairs of other nations, meddling with the succession of their royal families, openly supporting the defection of foreign nobles, or directly sending troops to occupy and incorporate their lands and people into his own country, all were viable methods.

“We understand…” Astaren’s tone carried a hint of lament. “Rainer and I will clearly convey your intentions to the Earl of Westwind and the other opposing nobles.”

He paused, and his mood instantly shifted to excitement. “My lord… the matter of your official accession and coronation as the King of Starfire City and St. Valen should also be put on the agenda as soon as possible. The other subordinate officials have all been eagerly awaiting this day.”

…

Regarding his accession to the throne and officially becoming king, Harvey had actually considered it many times before. It was only because there were too many urgent tasks and affairs to deal with that it had been delayed until now.

Collecting intelligence on the Demonic Lizardmen invasion, the upcoming in-depth cooperation with the Federation, Starfire City’s new round of development and construction plans… the approaching harvest season, the massive influx of people, the “Mongol Navy” that had been in preparation for over half a year—every single matter required his personal involvement to provide crucial decisions and advice.

In comparison, the accession itself held little practical significance. It was merely a formality that could serve to unite the people and boost national morale.

Of course, Harvey wasn’t entirely without personal ambition in this regard—compared to having the title of “Grand Duke” or “King” like the other monarchs of the various nations, he actually hoped to take it one step further.

For example… Emperor.

There were many considerations behind this, of course. As the supreme ruler of the Northern Realm and St. Valen, Harvey was also the first ruler to openly strip the nobles of their fiefs and military power. Without the constraints of warlords holding military authority, he naturally had absolute autocratic power over the administration, economy, and military within his domain. This was “dictatorship” in the truest sense, completely different from the situation in the other nations.

Thinking of this, Harvey couldn’t help but mock himself inwardly.

His actions could be described as those of an “otherworldly Augustus.”

Chapter 500: The Slave’s Brand

Thud!

The young City Hall official gripped the stamp and pressed a deep red seal onto a card half the size of a palm.

“Alright, take good care of this temporary identification card. Do not lose it. If you really can’t find it, you must report to City Hall immediately to have it replaced. Otherwise, the patrols will consider you an undocumented outsider and arrest you, maybe even send you back to the south!”

The young official rattled on, then thrust the card into the dazed Hick’s hand before turning to his colleague at the next window. “You have no idea how many times I’ve repeated that today,” he said with a weary smile. “My wife says I’ve been muttering it in my sleep these past few nights.”

His colleague irritably shook out his sore arm and complained in a low voice, “What can we do? This is a problem a sign could have solved, but none of these new immigrants can read…”

Hick’s sharp ears caught the comment, and his face immediately flushed. He subconsciously pulled the linen scarf around his neck higher, covering most of his face.

Just then, another municipal official, also in his early twenties, walked past, clutching a file. He glanced over, frowned, and spoke up. “Sir, it’s best not to cover your face in the city. The Police Department patrols might mistake you for a suspicious individual, which could lead to unnecessary trouble.”

He had a rather loud voice, and his words immediately drew the stares of many people nearby. The official at the registration desk saw him and greeted him with a wide smile. “Ah! Director Dave, are you working at the city entrance registration office today?”

“Deputy director, I’m the deputy director. And I’m off today, just passing by…” Dave’s face reddened as he quickly corrected the man’s form of address. “What’s going on with these new immigrants? Why is everyone half-masked, with either a scarf or a cowl?”

The subordinate official looked awkward and quickly explained in a low voice, “They’re the sla… sent from the Barkley Duchy.”

Before he could finish, Hick had already raised a hand and gently pulled down his scarf, revealing a large, seared brand on the lower part of his cheek—the slave brand that marked them as the private property of Duke Carlo.

The others present immediately began to whisper among themselves, their gazes toward Hick and his group filled with a mix of shock and sympathy. Most citizens of the Duchy of St. Valen had never truly seen a slave, especially not a group branded for life upon their faces.

Dave’s mouth fell slightly open. He watched, stunned, as the rest of the group followed his suggestion one by one, their faces etched with bitterness as they removed their scarves and cowls. Even the children, no older than six or seven, had ugly brands seared onto their small, grimy, and gaunt faces.

How could I have been so awful! Dave cursed himself inwardly. No wonder his superior was always telling him not to be so “by-the-book” and “formalistic.” The looks in these children’s eyes felt like a lashing, like death by a thousand cuts.

A pang of guilt made him hesitate for a moment before he managed to stammer, “D-don’t worry. Even if you show… show your scars, you will absolutely not face discrimination or unfair treatment in Starfire City. I can… I can guarantee that.”

But Hick and the others showed no signs of relief. They had traveled a thousand miles north with the returning army, passing through Silverpine City, Goldshine City, Fengyuan City, and Grizzly Keep, finally boarding a mountain-crossing train that was nothing short of a miracle to arrive here. Although the army’s protection had spared them from being driven away by the populace of those cities, the blatant, undisguised exclusion and contempt they had faced had been very, very real.

He didn’t think things would be any different in Starfire City. Although wealth and prosperity were evident everywhere, and all sorts of wondrous magical constructs made the city seem like a paradise on earth… their dual identity as slaves and foreigners was still enough to make their status as low as dirt.

Seeing their expressions, Dave quickly leaned over to his colleague at the registration desk and asked in a low voice, “How do the higher-ups plan to handle this batch of sla… of foreign immigrants? Will they also be temporarily housed in the reception area outside the city? What about their work assignments?”

“To avoid conflict, they won’t be mixed with the domestic immigrants for now. They’re being placed in the newly built South Gate reception area,” the subordinate answered dutifully. “They’re illiterate and have no other skills, so for now they can only be assigned to the Mining Area and the lumberyards. However, the Eastern Expansion base is holding a new round of recruitment in a few days. Perhaps they might find a better future over there.”

Dave nodded, feeling the arrangements were reasonable enough. But then his eyes fell on their thin, tattered clothing. Almost none of them carried any luggage, and many of the children and teenagers were even barefoot. Winter would arrive in another two months; their toes would probably freeze right off.

“The people from the Military Command responsible for transporting these immigrants were too careless. How could they not even provide them with the most basic relief supplies?”

The subordinate quickly raised a hand as if to cover his mouth. “Keep your voice down! Don’t go offending those guys from the Military Command. They don’t know the first thing about compassion or care. Their mission was to transport the immigrants, and that’s all they did… They don’t care about anything else.”

The Population Management Department, responsible for receiving these former slaves, had already arranged for relief supplies. But this was a special period with a massive influx of refugees from all over, and the entire General Municipal Office was completely overloaded. Everyone was so busy they were run off their feet, and the supply requisition process required multiple levels of approval, which had caused the delay.

Dave sighed, feeling a sense of unease. “Forget it. I’m not taking the day off. I’ll go back right now, take the relief supply requisition forms, and personally get them stamped and approved by every relevant department. We should be able to get them warm clothes and shoes by tomorrow at the earliest.”

Hick quickly stepped forward and bowed earnestly. “Commander, master, thank you for your kindness and benevolence…”

He paused, then stammered, “More than the gift of food and clothing, we… we’d rather see the place where we’ll be staying. On the way here, the soldiers told us that we’re being given… sturdy houses built of stone.”

A child whose face was disfigured by a raised, twisted brand scar asked timidly, “Honorable master, are we going to be locked up together here too? I don’t want to be separated from my mommy and daddy…”

Dave’s heart tightened. He quickly explained in a gentle voice, “First, I’m not a ‘master.’ I’m an ordinary person just like you. I’m just the deputy director of the Archives Department. Second, we aren’t going to lock you up. The place we’re taking you… you should call it your temporary new home!”

“A temporary new home?”

“That’s right. After you’ve had a month to adapt to the city, as long as you don’t have any criminal activity on your record, you can exchange your temporary identification card for a resident identification card and become an official resident under the protection of My lord City Lord!”

Then he gestured toward the ugly brand on the child’s face and suggested, a little uncertainly, “I’ve heard the Spellcasters at the infirmary have miraculous and brilliant methods. They can even reattach severed limbs for the injured. After you’re all settled, I’ll go and ask for you… see if they have a way to remove these man-made scars.”

Hick’s eyes lit up at his words, and his voice trembled with excitement. “R-really?”

Chapter 501: A Nation-Building Wonder

Harvey summoned Haru, the Director of the Construction Department, and instructed him earnestly, “After I am formally coronated, I plan to construct a landmark building in Starfire City to showcase the grandeur of the new capital.”

“A landmark building?” Haru clutched his work manual, his excitement tinged with confusion. “My lord City Lord, are you planning to build a commemorative statue for your coronation ceremony? This is wonderful! It would be the rarest honor of my life!”

Building a statue for a king, even in the more civilized south, was a prestigious honor that only the Chief of the Royal Masons’ Guild could hope to receive. For an ordinary mason like Haru, who had once only hammered away at repairing stone houses, it was a dream he would never have dared to entertain.

“No, I’m not that narcissistic,” Harvey said, shaking his head. He explained patiently, “Given that it will consume a great deal of manpower and resources, I don’t intend to build a decorative landmark with no practical value.”

Over the past two years, the Northern Army and the people of his domain had endured several wars against the vile orcs, the southern nobles, the Demons, and the Church. Although each conflict ended in a resounding, overwhelming victory, war invariably meant death. The army’s morale and loyalty remained high, but when the cold statistics of casualties were separated from the numbers, they represented long-lasting grief for every family that had lost a loved one.

If it were merely to satisfy the ruler’s personal desires, constructing a “wonder” would be an act detrimental to the nation. If the goal were simply to display the nation’s power, Harvey felt that his nearly ten thousand professional soldiers and magical weapons were more than enough of a deterrent for the entire realm.

“I plan to set aside an area next to the People’s Sports Field… right at the junction of the administrative district and the Market District, to construct a residential building. It will be named the Military Families’ Quarter.”

Haru did not rush to interrupt Harvey, but diligently took notes… It was only when Harvey spread a simple sketch on the desk that he couldn’t help but ask in confusion, “My lord, this… isn’t this residential building a bit too tall?”

He pointed a rough finger at a pillar-like structure standing in front of the building in the sketch. “And… what’s this? It looks like an obelisk.”

As the Director of the Construction Department for the territory, having overseen a series of incredible engineering marvels like the city walls, the railway, and the great river bridge, Haru was now much more experienced. He was far calmer than others when faced with the shocking ideas Harvey occasionally produced.

Harvey was very pleased with his reaction and explained patiently, “The residential building will be sixteen stories or higher… According to the Construction Department’s current standards, its height will exceed sixty meters.”

In other words, the building would be twice as tall as the existing city walls and would shatter the record held by the Academy of Sciences as the tallest structure in Starfire City.

Haru drew a sharp breath. “My lord, a building this tall… wouldn’t it rival the floating magic towers of Araye?”

Harvey smiled. “The two have nothing in common. The Celestial Domain is a legendary creation forged by the great power of magic, whereas our high-rise will be built by ordinary people with steel and concrete, without any supernatural power involved.”

At these words, Haru’s fingers began to tremble uncontrollably. Didn’t this mean he would have the chance to participate in and lead a magnificent project that could rival legendary magic?

“This tall building… it will be your future residence after you ascend the throne, won’t it?”

Harvey shook his head again. Pointing to the obelisk in front of the building on the blueprint, he continued in a gentle voice, “This is a monument, about twelve meters high. Once it’s completed, I will have the names of every soldier who died for the pioneer territories and Starfire City engraved upon it, for all the city’s people and future generations to remember and pay their respects… And the high-rise behind it will be for the families of the fallen soldiers to move into.”

“Sixteen stories… will it really not collapse?” Haru recalled how, a few years ago, an entire section of the city wall, several meters long, had collapsed with a great roar simply because a Giant Devouring Worm had burrowed beneath its foundation. A lingering fear crept into his heart at the memory.

Harvey pondered for a moment before offering a careful analysis. “In the past, our steel smelting technology was lacking, and we weren’t proficient enough in using cement and concrete. Trust me… sixteen stories is far from the height limit for a building.”

After all, in his previous life, in ancient times without steel and concrete, Harvey had seen the Potala Palace, which stood over one hundred and ten meters tall, not to mention the nearly seventy-meter-tall Yingxian Wooden Pagoda from his hometown, a structure made entirely of wood.

Although Harvey was no expert in engineering and architecture, the principles of mechanics and structural engineering were clearly universal across both worlds. As long as the foundation and support columns were stable enough, building a high-rise of steel and concrete was no pipe dream.

Besides, Starfire City already had a surplus of cement, and Harvey had no plans to export it in large quantities for the time being. It was the perfect opportunity to use it for a landmark building, which would also serve as a prototype for the mass construction of high-rise residences in the future.

With the large influx of migrants into Starfire City, the standard two-story houses they had been building were clearly no longer sufficient to meet the demand. The Construction Department had already tentatively proposed adding more floors in their latest batch of new housing applications. It was clear these civil engineering experts had realized the same thing as Harvey: high-rise residences offered far greater capacity than single-story houses. Simply adding a few more floors to the existing single and two-story designs could instantly double the number of homes—it was a surefire gain.

Before Harvey could even mention the single greatest difficulty in constructing Starfire City’s first skyscraper, a highly excited Haru proactively suggested a solution. “Pouring the concrete can’t be done like when we built the city walls and the Academy, using alchemical beasts to pull pulley systems for transport… But we could try using Airships to lift it directly, and then have engineering alchemical beasts handle the high-altitude work in place of human labor!”

Harvey chuckled and shook his head, thinking to himself, A true saint of concrete pouring, born and bred.

The two then delved into a a detailed discussion about the construction. When Haru raised the problem of the floors being too high and difficult to climb, Harvey proposed leaving access points on the building’s exterior to install an “external elevator” driven by a magical-powered device, which would eliminate the need for stairs. This greatly broadened Haru’s horizons, and he was once again filled with sincere admiration for Harvey’s wisdom and ingenuity.

“Go gather your people and get to work, but there’s no need to rush. The preliminary preparations must be thorough… If it’s officially completed by next year’s Winter Festival, on the first anniversary of my coronation, the mission will be considered a success.”

Harvey patted the Director of the Construction Department on the shoulder in encouragement.

Chapter 502: A Harvest Festival Surprise

When the rolling mountains of the Northern Realm gradually took on a brilliant golden hue, the bountiful autumn officially arrived.

Unlike the mild and gradual temperature changes in the south, autumn in the barren lands, while not as bone-chilling as the dead of winter, still brought a sudden drop in temperature that had the vast majority of the populace switching to thicker cotton and leather clothing. The busy workers, who left early and returned late, all began to don the felt soft caps that were currently the most fashionable in Starfire City.

Harvey, on schedule, convened the annual agricultural development summary meeting on the day after the Harvest Festival celebrations ended.

Although it was nominally a special meeting to review the performance of the Agriculture Department, in reality, the entire central City Hall, subordinate municipal officials from adjacent regions, and the administrative heads of newly annexed cities from the south were all summoned to the castle.

Officials from more distant cities like Silverpine City, Black Mountain Port, and the old capital, Goldshine City, had even set off early before the official Harvest Festival holiday, switching between water, rail, and air transport just to arrive on time after receiving the City Lord’s summons.

This made Harvey realize on a deeper level the advantages and benefits of “centralized authority”—if this were any of the other traditional nations in the south, still divided between the royal family and the nobility, most local lords and noble vassals would not treat the King’s edict as a sacred decree. As long as their own interests and safety weren’t at stake, they would mostly feign compliance and go through the motions.

To think a single summons could make an administrator, who governs a city and holds a region, rush back to the capital in a hurry? Most would probably assume that what awaited them wasn’t His Majesty the King’s warm welcome, but axemen lying in ambush in the Royal Court’s great hall.

In any case, this meeting had gathered all the high-level representatives from Starfire City’s various factions, making it nearly as important as the annual high-level conference held in early spring.

Harvey sat in the high-backed chair at the head of the long table, surveying the officials from various regions with a satisfied gaze, then raised his hand and tapped his fingers on the tabletop.

The crowd, which had been murmuring quietly and poring over the meeting agenda, immediately fell silent, their eyes turning in unison to the ruler to whom they had pledged fealty.

“Same as always, let’s start with a report on this year’s grain harvest from all regions.”

After the old Minister of Agriculture retired early due to illness, Anbiki Kenny, who was temporarily serving as acting minister, jolted. He glanced left and right before rising to his feet, trembling.

Harvey recalled the man’s moniker, the “Shepherd Knight,” and couldn’t help but let the corner of his mouth curve into a slight smile.

“My lord City Lord, according to the grain production targets set in early spring this year, as of now, Starfire City and its surrounding territories have harvested a total of fifty thousand bushels of wheat and seventy thousand bushels of barley and rye. Other oil, sugar, and salt crops respectively…”

Before he could finish reading out his lengthy report, Harvey couldn’t hold back. He propped his hands on the table, leaned forward slightly, and asked in pleasant surprise, “A total grain yield of one hundred and twenty thousand bushels? Has the statistics department verified this repeatedly?”

Kenny nodded. “It was checked three times. And this is only counting Starfire City, Grizzly Bear Territory, and Fengyuan City, as per the targets set at the beginning of the year. The harvests from the independently cultivated lands of the people in other newly annexed cities and the nearby mountains have not been included in these statistics…”

Clap! Clap! Clap!

Harvey laughed heartily as he couldn’t help but applaud. “Hahaha! Excellent, excellent… I knew this goal could be achieved!”

The significance of this bountiful harvest was tremendously important to him. In a sense, the glittering golden wheat signified a continuous influx of people. The flood of fresh labor would, in turn, yield an inexhaustible supply of industrial products, ammunition, and weapons.

When he first set this target, Harvey had worried that the sudden “nationalized land enclosure policy” and the popularization of mechanized agriculture would be difficult for these ancient people, accustomed to a small-scale peasant economy, to adapt to. The target of one hundred thousand bushels was less about a relaxed assessment and more a reflection of his own lack of confidence.

He never expected such a shocking, bountiful harvest in return. For comparison… even if Oland and Isengard, the most powerful of the nations of the south, were to combine their efforts, they probably couldn’t fill the king’s granaries with such an astronomical figure.

After suppressing his excitement, Harvey immediately realized a problem. His smile vanished as he pressed, “Those are the total figures, but what are the specific yields for each region?”

If he remembered correctly, Starfire City itself had taken on half of the one hundred thousand-bushel grain target, while Fengyuan City and Grizzly Bear Territory had only committed to thirty thousand and twenty thousand, respectively.

He couldn’t just ignore the successes and failures of the responsible parties in different regions just because the overall target had been met. Rewarding everyone equally and letting officials just coast by was something Harvey would never allow in his administration.

Kenny swallowed hard and said dryly, “The Starfire City Farm and the Eastern Expansion base achieved a yield of ninety thousand bushels, Grizzly Bear Territory just met its target, and Fengyuan City… due to various reasons, Fengyuan City only achieved half of its target.”

Thud!

Harvey slammed the teacup in his hand down on the table. The splashing tea even hit the face of Rainer, who was seated closest to him, and was instantly vaporized into a wisp of blue smoke by the high temperature of his alchemical body.

It looked as if Rainer’s mechanical brain was gradually overheating from running at high speed.

The City Lord rarely lost his temper in a major meeting. Although he didn’t name names or start shouting, the formless pressure he exuded was tangible enough to make everyone subconsciously lower their heads.

Kenny looked around in a daze, searching for someone willing to “rescue” him at this moment, only to find that apart from the three Alchemical constructs sitting bolt upright, everyone else had their heads buried, avoiding his gaze.

“Where are the heads of Grizzly Bear Territory and Fengyuan City? Do you think you can evade responsibility by hiding under the table?”

Harvey’s icy words echoed through the hall, compelling Earl Fegan and another middle-aged noble to rise shakily to their feet. The cold sweat on their foreheads was clearly visible; they were obviously too frightened to speak.

The administrative positions for a city or territory were not under a lifelong appointment system or a hereditary system. This was clearly written in the fundamental laws established at the city’s founding. Failure to complete a mission issued by the supreme commander would, at best, lead to being stripped of one’s duties and dismissed in disgrace. At worst, it would be treated as the crime of dereliction of duty, leading directly to imprisonment… The nobles who had submitted to Harvey currently held only honorary titles, with no land or soldiers of their own. Once they lost the real power they relied upon, their entire families would lose numerous associated benefits and gradually decline into the commoner class.

The atmosphere at the meeting grew more tense than ever before. It was only then that Rainer, who had been silent all this time, slowly spoke up.

“The main reason the established targets were not met is, in fact, my responsibility—it lies with the central City Hall…”

He stood up, looking directly at the work report in his hands, and announced, “Although Grizzly Bear Territory completed the minimum target, it should have harvested much more… It’s just that City Hall only provided for the popularization of agricultural machinery and failed to consider allocating a sufficient amount of enchanted grain seeds. The local populace still used their old, ordinary grain seeds for planting, which led to a less-than-ideal harvest.”

However, he changed his tone and immediately added, “But because the nobles have been proactive in handing over their land, the area of cultivated farmland in Grizzly Bear Territory has indeed increased significantly this year. A great deal of fertile land that was once left fallow by the nobles has been reclaimed. I believe next year’s yield will by no means be low.”

“Mm…”

Harvey nodded in understanding. He was well aware that City Hall’s oversight wasn’t intentional. The enchanted grain seeds relied entirely on Egnor and a dozen or so other half-elves to catalyze them with nature magic, so the total quantity of seeds was always limited. After all, once a seed was enchanted, it had to be planted immediately, or the attached natural mana would quickly dissipate. Furthermore, these individuals couldn’t spend the entire spring season focused solely on processing seeds. The problem had a fundamental flaw at its source.

Fortunately, Harvey had the foresight to reach a cooperation agreement with the Elves and Dwarves in advance. Once he borrowed the Heart of the Golden Tree and the Earth Crystal Core and used them to create the Stone of Life, which could efficiently transform crop seeds, these problems would naturally be solved.

“So, did Fengyuan City face the same problem, leading to its poor harvest?”

Fengyuan City had always been a major grain-producing region within the Duchy. In the past, even using the primitive and backward three-field system crop rotation, it could guarantee a harvest of thirty thousand bushels, rain or shine. It made no sense for its production to plummet after becoming part of Starfire City.

Rainer sighed and said faintly, “Part of the reason was also the issue with seeds and machinery普及. More importantly… a large number of Fengyuan City’s original farming population was drawn to migrate north by Starfire City’s recruitment policies. A lot of the once-fertile farmland has been left completely uncultivated.”

Chapter 503: Harvey’s “Mongol Navy”

Although autumn had officially arrived, the swift currents of the Icefield River had not yet frozen over. At the temporary naval base established next to the shipyards, crowds of officers and soldiers had gathered.

Surrounded by his personal guard, Harvey stood on the spacious military dock, his gaze fixed intently on the river’s surface.

Before long, a few bubbles suddenly gurgled up from the calm surface, followed by a tremendous splash… A massive, oval, spindle-shaped submarine burst out of the water.

The spectating soldiers immediately broke into cheers. An ironclad ship patrolling the river slowly approached the submarine, extending grappling hooks to secure it before towing it to the shore.

The hatch on top of the submarine creaked open, and the white-haired Gutres nimbly climbed out, followed by seven or eight young Navy soldiers.

“My lord City Lord! I have a report…” The moment Gutres set foot on the dock, he jogged over to Harvey, performed a Northern Army salute by striking his fist to his chest, and reported, “The submarine dived all the way to the riverbed, at a depth of one hundred and seven meters. We maintained bottomed silence for sixty minutes. Due to the murky autumn water, we were unable to locate the metal beacon that was sunk beforehand.”

Harvey nodded in satisfaction. He was well aware of the visibility in the Icefield River; for any meaningful underwater patrol training, they would probably have to go to the ice sea exploration base.

He turned and signaled to Egnor, who immediately came forward with two half-elf physicians and began to conduct physical examinations on Gutres and his men.

“How are you and the other soldiers feeling now? Any significant discomfort?”

Gutres subconsciously pinched his earlobe and answered honestly, “Same as always. If we’re submerged for too long, most of the lads start to experience intermittent tinnitus, chest tightness, and dizziness. But after using the potion provided by Dean Egnor, it’s effectively alleviated… and there are no other major issues afterward.”

Harvey gave a slow nod. The issue of oxygen deprivation inside the submarine, which had been a constant worry, was now almost negligible with the help of magic potions. To ensure speed and stability underwater, the submarine had strict limits on personnel and the weight of its energy ammunition. The oxygen tanks it carried could only sustain submerged operations for six hours at most. If they exceeded that time limit without surfacing for air, the soldiers inside would gradually become hypoxic, eventually suffocating, fainting, and losing all combat capability.

But with the “Slow-Breath Potion” concocted by the infirmary, not only were the soldiers’ heart and breathing rates lowered during submerged operations, but their oxygen consumption was also correspondingly reduced. The chest tightness and tinnitus caused by prolonged underwater training were greatly relieved, completely eliminating any lingering fear the soldiers had about deep-water dives.

“My lord City Lord, while the Icefield River is deep enough, it can never fully simulate the real conditions of the sea. When will we finally be able to…” Gutres looked at Harvey, his eyes full of anticipation, “go to the ice sea exploration base for live-fire submersible training!”

For the better part of the past year, this Navy, numbering no more than five hundred men, had been gradually recruited and formed, and had been subjected to skepticism from every other department. If they were merely operating military ironclad ships for combat on the inland river, no one would have thought anything of it. But these Navy soldiers had completed their ship-handling and surface combat training in the first three months of enlistment. All their time since had been spent in the Icefield River, operating the costly submarines, surfacing and submerging in exceptionally rigid training exercises.

Many Army officers had little faith in their combat capabilities. Privately, they referred to the submarines as “iron turtles” and the Navy sailors as “underwater sentinels”—a clear sign they didn’t consider them a primary combat branch with any real fighting ability.

As the acting captain, Gutres remained level-headed, strictly following Harvey’s orders and training diligently. But the younger soldiers in the unit generally felt resentful. They were all part of the Northern Realm’s regular army, so on what grounds did the Army look down on the Navy?

Their ironclad ships and submarines were also equipped with Magical Energy Naval Cannons and machine guns. Navy soldiers also had to undergo the same rigorous physical, marksmanship, and other training assessments. In all aspects, their skills and qualities were no worse than those of the Army soldiers.

Harvey was naturally aware of his soldiers’ situation. He smiled and reassured Gutres, “The first batch of submarines is currently being built at an accelerated pace. By winter at the latest… once the Icefield River freezes over, you will have your chance to head to the ice sea base.”

He paused, then continued, “However, there is a combat mission for you right now. Consider it the Navy’s first live-fire exercise since its formation. It’s time for me to see the results of your training over the past half-year.”

Gutres’s eyes lit up, and his voice trembled. “My lord, what is the mission?”

“Three military ironclad ships, in coordination with a battalion from the River Valley Outpost, will sweep north along the Icefield River. This year, I don’t intend to sit and wait for those vile orcs to come south to plunder. We’re taking the fight to them!”

Upon hearing this, Gutres and the naval officers gathered around him immediately snapped to attention, saluted, and replied in a loud, excited chorus, “As you command, my lord City Lord!”

“My lord, why must we sweep north to deal with those vile orc tribes?” Rainer was a little puzzled. “In past years, they’ve never amounted to much of a threat. Ever since the River Valley Outpost was established, they’ve even started avoiding the Raven Ridge line and no longer attempt to invade the south from this direction.”

With his hands behind his back, Harvey gazed at the map hanging on the wall. “It’s true they haven’t appeared as frequently in the last two years. But have you ever considered… what will happen to all the vile orc tribes, large and small, scattered across the barren lands when the main Demonic Lizardmen army appears at the junction of the ice sea and the barren lands?”

Astaren said grimly, “They will still be driven to migrate south, but I fear they won’t return to the barren lands when the winter ends and the weather warms, as they have in the past…”

Even among the intelligent races, the vile orcs were a dim-witted and ignorant people. For millennia, they had never developed the concept of a unified nation. To them, there was no essential difference between internal conflict and external raiding. They naturally wouldn’t realize the need to unite against a great enemy. If they couldn’t win a fight, they ran, migrating to wherever they could reproduce. The vast, boundless lands of the Northern Barren Lands could support these savage, bloodthirsty races anywhere.

Rainer suddenly understood. “You’re worried that the appearance of the Demonic Lizardmen will cause a massive migration of vile orc tribes to the south, and because their lands will be occupied, they won’t be able to return and will instead compete with us for resources to survive and multiply?”

Harvey nodded. “Exactly. The scattered vile orc tribes that roam around Raven Ridge are indeed no great threat. But if the tens of thousands of tribes in the barren lands are all squeezed north of the Spine of the Continent Mountains, we might find ourselves facing two hostile forces at once.”

Proactively dispatching the army to sweep north was, of course, intended to clear out a relatively wide buffer zone. As long as their clearing operations were frequent enough, the vile orc tribes entrenched in the area extending for over a hundred kilometers north of Starfire City would eventually get wind of it. Unwilling to confront the Northern Army head-on, they would naturally choose to preserve their tribes by migrating in the opposite direction.

Having these savages take their place on the front lines against the Demonic Lizardmen’s invasion of the Corner of the Continent might be an excellent choice.

Chapter 504: The Ironclad Ship Trade

“My lord City Lord, we’ve only been apart for just over a year, but the Northern Realm has undergone a world-shaking transformation…”

George Santos, the Vice-President of the Dragonstone Merchant Guild, bowed to Harvey and praised him from the bottom of his heart.

Although Harvey’s attitude toward him was as mild as ever, the shrewd and smooth-tongued merchant knew in his heart that he could no longer interact on equal footing as an “old friend” with this King of the North, who was rumored to be officially ascending the throne soon as the new Grand Duke of St. Valen. Facing a future king, the proper respect and etiquette were absolutely essential.

Andrew, the mine owner and gem merchant, and Morgan, the trade director of the Faros Royal Merchant Guild, had once again accompanied Santos… In fact, when they received Harvey’s invitation, they had assumed they’d been granted the honor of participating in his coronation ceremony. Overwhelmed by the favor, they each rushed over with a considerable number of congratulatory valuables.

With gifts being delivered to his door, Harvey naturally refused no one. That evening, he held a small banquet in the castle, hosting the three guild leaders privately.

“If not for everyone’s help in raising grain some time ago, I’m afraid my city would have been scraping the bottom of the pot. Please accept my heartfelt thanks.” Harvey sat at the seat of honor at the dining table, raising his glass with a smile.

Santos hurriedly stood to return the toast, laughing. “My lord City Lord, you are far too polite. You purchased the grain from us at a premium; you didn’t let any of us lose out in the slightest.”

Harvey shrugged and chuckled. “I wasn’t the only feudal lord short on grain before the autumn harvest. That you were all willing to prioritize selling your stockpiles to me was a rare kindness and a debt of gratitude…”

Most merchants were indeed profit-driven, but for massive merchant guilds like those of Santos and the other two, whose family influence was spread throughout the south, their leaders’ status was in some sense no less than that of noble lords. Many nobles on the verge of bankruptcy due to their own poor management would even try to curry favor with them, seeking low-interest loans or business partnerships.

And for his own pioneer territories to have developed to their current state, Santos, the Vice-President of the Dragonstone Merchant Guild… had indeed provided indispensable connections and support.

Andrew gulped down a large mouthful of Icefield Vodka, wiped the sweat from his brow, and saluted Harvey with a smile. “My lord City Lord, my premature congratulations on you becoming the new King of St. Valen. The next time we are summoned by you, we should be addressing you as Your Majesty.”

Harvey smiled and raised his hand in acknowledgment of the congratulations.

They chatted for a while longer until the banquet neared its end. Well-fed and with spirits high, it was finally time to discuss business.

Santos secretly gave Andrew and Morgan a look before taking the initiative to stand up and ask Harvey, “My lord City Lord, I was wondering, in summoning us here individually this time, besides attending your upcoming coronation ceremony, is there something else…?”

Harvey set down his wine glass and got straight to the point. “A brand-new cooperative plan—a new business opportunity for our mutual benefit.”

“A cooperative plan? A new business opportunity?” Andrew was clearly a little drunk and had lost the initial restraint he’d shown toward Harvey. His tone was tinged with jealousy. “My lord City Lord, the exclusive rights to the plague potion you granted the Dragonstone Merchant Guild have let him make a killing. In a few more years, I’m afraid the wealth he’s accumulated will be enough to buy Oland. If there’s really a better business, please don’t forget me this time!”

Though Andrew and Morgan had been introduced through Santos, they had also provided considerable help to the Northern Realm. Not long ago, when taking in refugees and buying slaves, President Andrew, who had connections in both legitimate and illicit circles, had contributed a great deal. Meanwhile, the Faros Royal Merchant Guild, under Director Morgan’s management, had fully cooperated with Harvey’s secret police, using their trade outposts throughout the country to build a comprehensive intelligence network.

Harvey waved his hand dismissively and chuckled. “Don’t complain that I’m playing favorites. I called all three of you here this time.”

He paused, turned to Santos, and asked with a smile, “Didn’t you ask me before if I would sell you that kind of ironclad ship that can travel at high speed on rivers?”

“What? You’re willing to sell them?” Santos and Morgan exclaimed in near unison.

“Military vessels are naturally not for sale, but civilian models can be discussed… However, there are none in stock. You can only pre-order, and you’ll need to pay the full amount in advance.”

“I’m willing to order three! Pre-paying the full amount is absolutely no problem!” Director Morgan, hardly waiting for Harvey to finish, immediately cut in front of President Santos.

As the head of the Faros Royal Merchant Guild from the Land of a Thousand Sails, whose main business was maritime trade, he clearly understood the value of ironclad ships on the open sea better than anyone. A standard three-masted sea vessel built by the Faros Royal Shipyards could carry nearly three hundred people and an equivalent weight in cargo, and cost close to four thousand gold pounds to build. If you added an experienced sea captain and dozens of veteran sailors and shipwrights, launching such a large merchant ship required a capital of at least five thousand gold pounds.

And even such a costly vessel couldn’t guarantee a safe return from every long voyage. A sudden storm, pirates appearing and disappearing like hyenas, or certain Sea-folk with whom they had poor relations could all cause the merchant guild to suffer immense losses in an instant.

But it would be a different story with an ironclad ship. The tale of how Harvey’s fleet defeated Duke Ralph’s at Three-Forks Town had quickly spread throughout the Duchy, and these well-informed guild leaders had naturally heard of it. The ships could far outpace ordinary sailboats without the need for sails or oars, and their hulls, forged entirely of steel, were incomparably sturdy, capable of easily smashing ordinary wooden ships to pieces.

High speed meant high transport efficiency and a fast escape from pirates and enemies. A sturdy hull guaranteed the ability to weather storms and waves. Out on the sea, wouldn’t it be an invincible existence!

It was no wonder Director Morgan spoke up to place an order without a second thought, leaving Santos and Andrew, who were a step too slow, to regret their hesitation.

“Don’t be so anxious!” Harvey waved his hands repeatedly, laughing. “You’ve all long since found out about the advantages of the ironclad ships, but you probably don’t know about their production time and cost, do you?”

With that, he signaled a servant to come forward and distribute a ship order list to the three of them.

“Civilian Type I, for inland river transport, cargo capacity…, three-month production time, price of eight thousand gold pounds.”

“Civilian Type II, for long-distance sea transport, cargo capacity…, five-month production time, price of twelve thousand gold pounds.”

Morgan quietly looked up and exchanged glances with the other two for a moment… City Lord Harvey possessed such terrifying monopolistic technology, yet he wasn’t asking for an astronomical price or making an exorbitant demand to rip them off.

Although these ironclad ships were designated as civilian models and came in different sizes… their prices didn’t seem as shockingly expensive as they had imagined.

This King of the North genuinely wanted to further their business partnership for mutual benefit, not to use his own power and deterrence to exploit and extort them, both openly and secretly…

Chapter 505: The Import-Export Company

“So you see, the main reason ironclad ships can’t be exported in large quantities right now isn’t the high price… but the limited production and long manufacturing cycle.” Harvey spread his hands, expressing a certain helplessness.

The real reason was that all of Starfire City’s shipbuilding-related industries were currently pouring their energy and resources into manufacturing military-grade ironclad ships, as well as the submarines that had just completed their submersion test trials.

Santos and the others came to a sudden realization. “I see. We were indeed too hasty.”

Harvey nodded with a smile. “You are all anxious to buy ironclad ships simply to improve the efficiency of your shipping trade and to ensure safe and swift long-distance commerce. In my opinion, there is actually another reliable solution, and one that can be implemented right away…”

He smiled, counting on his fingers. “Currently, Starfire City has about thirty civilian ironclad ships in operation. Their transport route is the northern section of the Ralph River, starting from Black Mountain Port and Silverpine City, passing through Goldshine City, Fengyuan City, and Three-Forks Town, and finally arriving at Grizzly Bear Territory.”

This was the primary route for continuously transporting migrating populations to the Northern Realm.

“How about I directly allocate fifteen of these ships to you for transporting conventional goods?”

Morgan was taken aback for a moment, then forced a smile. “My lord City Lord, what is the meaning of this?”

Harvey shrugged and explained, “After the autumn harvest, the frequency at which Starfire City takes in refugees has slowed. We can completely convert the surplus ships to freight transport. In other words… I will provide the ships and their operating crews, and you only need to be responsible for the cargo and the loading and selling along the route.”

Andrew slapped his thigh, an expression of pleasant surprise on his face. “My lord City Lord, is this the win-win cooperation, the new business opportunity you mentioned?”

Fifteen ironclad ships! If the other party truly intended to treat their three merchant guilds fairly, it meant they could each get the right to use at least five merchant vessels. And they wouldn’t have to prepay the full amount and wait for the shipbuilding orders to be completed. Harvey was even providing the captains, sailors, and shipwrights for them. How was this any different from lying down and waiting for money to come to them?

The three of them didn’t even exchange glances this time. Almost in unison, they immediately said, “Deal!”

Harvey clapped his hands in satisfaction and instructed a servant to clear away the messy cups and plates. A newly drawn hydrographic map of the entire south was spread out on the long dining table, and four contracts stamped with the sigil of the Starfire City Administrative Hall’s Commerce Department were also laid out.

“Starfire Joint Import-Export Company?” Santos smiled. “My lord, every time I come here, I encounter some new, unheard-of concept. This joint-stock system… what does ‘company’ mean?”

“It means the four of us will form a joint venture, and each will receive profits according to their share!” Director Morgan proactively explained.

“Correct. I am providing the transport and the personnel, so I will take thirty percent of the shares… Do any of you have any objections?”

Andrew swallowed hard and said nervously, “This… this is not appropriate! My lord City Lord, you are bearing the most important transportation and labor costs for us. How can you take such a small profit!”

Santos’s eyes glinted, and he and Morgan chimed in, “Indeed! Thirty percent is too little! And it would be difficult for the three of us to divide the remaining seventy percent equally. My lord City Lord… you should take forty percent of the shares, and the remaining sixty percent should be ours!”

Merely providing transport support without even participating in the production or sale of goods, yet collecting forty percent of the profits… was practically no different from setting up a tollbooth along the way to collect a protection fee. But Harvey knew that compared to the immediate profits, they were more interested in establishing a long-term, stable, and friendly relationship with him. It was, in fact, a long-term investment with even greater returns.

He immediately went with the flow, nodding with a smile. “Since you are all willing to offer me a larger share, how about I entrust the exclusive sales of all of Starfire City’s new products to you from now on?”

“We are grateful for the City Lord’s generosity and benevolence!” The three men stood up in unison, bowed, and, fearing Harvey might suddenly go back on his word and change the terms of cooperation, immediately picked up their pens, ready to sign the contract. But Harvey suddenly stopped them.

“Not so fast! There are three small, additional conditions attached to this important collaboration… and I’ll need each of you to help me complete one.”

Harvey slowly stood up and pointed to the shipping map spread on the table.

“President Santos, I’ve heard… that the Dragonstone Merchant Guild has long been handling the magic stone trade with the Burrowing Dwarves of the southern hills, correct?”

Strictly speaking, the sale of magic stones was monopolized by the Federation of Casters… They used this to control the various Spellcaster families and organizations, both large and small, among the races of the south. Even the Wizard Council had to pay a certain price to obtain a sufficient share of magic stones from them.

The Dragonstone Merchant Guild, however, possessed a separate route for importing magic stones from Hollowhearth City, which amounted to a “smuggling operation” in serious violation of the continent’s Spellcaster Accords. Yet, for some reason, the Federation had never pursued the matter, which could only mean that the family’s backing was not to be underestimated.

Santos’s face paled, and he was about to rise and explain, but Harvey stopped him with a wave of his hand. “No need to worry. My only request is that you take the lead in contacting Hollowhearth City for me to open up a new trade route, for future commercial cooperation between Starfire City and the Dwarven race.”

Before Santos could reply, he immediately turned to Andrew and smiled. “President Andrew, has your merchant guild also maintained a close cooperative relationship with the Golden Forest in the east?”

Due to their long-standing tradition of a “closed-door policy,” the Elven race had always avoided excessive contact with the Humans of the south and were even more averse to communication and cooperation between the two races. They had only a verbal defensive alliance for dealing with Demon invasions.

However, in the process of creating and transforming magic stones and magical instruments, the various ordinary gems and magical minerals they desperately needed were not produced in the eastern Golden Forest. Private smuggling had become the only effective method.

“So, what I need your help with, President Andrew, is also to contact Laurien in the Golden Forest and help me open a smooth trade route to the east.”

Faced with Harvey revealing his true intentions, the remaining Director Morgan took the initiative to stand up and say, “Then the task My lord City Lord needs to assign to me should be to establish contact with the Sea-folk, to facilitate the later dumping of the Northern Realm’s specialty products on them, correct?”

Harvey nodded and smiled in satisfaction.

“I know that bypassing the Federation and the Wizard Council to establish contact with these other races under their blockade is a violation. But risk… always coexists with reward. Your family merchant guilds have spent generations painstakingly building these trade routes and cooperative relationships. It would be truly unfair to you for me to suddenly stick my foot in and take a slice of the pie…”

His tone shifted, and he said softly, “So I’ve decided to offer some compensation. The Starfire City Civilian Shipbuilding Company is currently in dire need of craftsmen. You can each dispatch a batch of artisans from your respective merchant guilds’ manufacturing workshops to the Northern Realm to participate in the construction of civilian ironclad ships… My technical craftsmen will be responsible for teaching them. In three years at most… you will have each acquired the technology to build ironclad ships.”

This time, all three of them were completely stunned.

Santos asked in disbelief, “My lord City Lord, you… you mean you’re willing to teach us the manufacturing technology for ironclad ships? Are you joking?”

Harvey shook his head. “I have absolutely no intention of making fun of you. Every word I’ve said is true… The craftsmen you send only need to work in my shipyard for three years, and I can even pay their salaries for you.”

In any case, the manufacturing technology for ironclad ships could not be realized without an advanced foundation in steel smelting. Without the support of a corresponding steel casting industry, even if Harvey unreservedly spread the technology throughout the south, no merchant guild’s workshop could truly replicate an ironclad ship of the same specifications.

Not to mention the liquid magical energy, which was completely monopolized by Starfire City. Without that stuff, the ironclad ships couldn’t even get into the water, let alone conduct swift and safe long-distance voyages.

Chapter 506: The Second Battlefield

“My lord, are you really planning to bypass the Federation and establish contact with the Burrowing Dwarves, the Elven race, and the Sea-folk using just the connections of a few private merchant guilds? Isn’t that a bit too reckless?” Rainer hesitated for a long time before he couldn’t help but ask.

Harvey rolled his eyes and said in resignation, “What else can I do? The Federation is such a vast organization of Spellcasters, its internal factions are convoluted, and their conflicts have escalated to a nearly irreconcilable point… Relying on them would be less effective than me just finding another way.”

Astaren seemed to have thought of something and couldn’t help but chuckle. “I thought that in your eyes, my lord, diplomatic relations were all handled through the deterrence of gunboats.”

This was a good-natured jab at Harvey’s earlier aggressive statements.

“I don’t see anything wrong with Gunboat Diplomacy.” Pierce, who had just returned to the Northern Realm from Goldshine City to report on his duties, rarely talked back to his mentor, muttering under his breath, “Doesn’t my lord always use the ‘carrot and stick’ analogy? For those stubbornly conservative and weak countries and races, using military force for deterrence is the most effective method.”

Among the old guard who had followed Harvey the longest, only Pierce was a true believer in Harvey’s aggressive “Open the gate! Free trade!” philosophy.

Harvey chuckled. “That only works if the other party is actually within range of our cannons of truth, right? The east, Breath of the Hills, and the seas of the south are all thousands of kilometers away from us. They’re truly beyond our reach, unless I can conjure up some medium-to-long-range missiles to go knock on their doors!”

Upon hearing this, Pierce, the military fanatic, saw his eyes light up instantly. He pressed eagerly, “My lord! What are medium-to-long-range missiles? Are they a new type of long-range weapon currently being developed by the munitions factory and the Laboratory?”

Harvey choked on a sip of water, speechless. “Shut up! That thing currently only exists in my dreams.”

Signing long-term cooperation agreements with three major merchant guilds simultaneously was a relatively complex process. Every detail of the cooperation needed to be repeatedly discussed and finalized. The three guilds would also engage in repeated negotiations over the division of profits; exclusive rights to different commodities and the demarcation of trade routes were all points of contention.

Of course, Harvey had no time to sit at a table and engage in a seesaw battle with them. He directly delegated the specific matters to Rainer, with support from the Administrative Hall’s trade department. These noble officials, who were already adept at managing their family businesses, would naturally handle things for Harvey to his satisfaction.

He then turned his attention to organizing the work plan for the upcoming winter.

Without a doubt, a large-scale sweep of the territory’s periphery was the top priority. Harvey demanded close coordination between the Northern Army’s land and sea combat units. They were to advance straight along the main channel of the Icefield River, driving the hundreds of scattered vile orc tribes concentrated along the banks as far north as possible. If any stubbornly refused to leave… they were to be annihilated directly.

After clearing out this vacuum to create a buffer zone, the area of the east coast Garrison Corps, which had previously been unprotected by Starfire City’s walls, could also be completely liberated during the winter. There would no longer be a need to station a large number of troops to guard against vile orc incursions. The farming populace would also be able to return to the city with peace of mind and take on some temporary jobs to subsidize their household income through the long, cold winter.

For this labor force entering its off-season, Harvey had long prepared ample job opportunities and temporary positions. This year’s harvest had doubled compared to previous years. A steady stream of grain and cash crops transported back from the Eastern Expansion base quickly filled Starfire City’s vast storage areas. Harvey issued an urgent order for the Construction Department to build a new batch of warehouses and granaries to prevent these precious resources from being exposed to the rain and snow.

With an abundant food supply, Harvey felt confident in any plan he made.

He couldn’t help but think of the message head priest Garrett had relayed to him—if he chose to ally with the Church to jointly resist the impending great non-human enemy, the Church would do everything in its power to help him replace the Federation’s status and influence in the south.

And if he chose to refuse… the Pope had actually requested that he dispatch troops directly to the Holy City of Goris and seize control of the Radiant Church’s center of power through military conquest.

This was something Harvey simply could not figure out. Logically, the Holy See had suffered several defeats at his hands and should have long been aware of the severe power imbalance between them. Even if they were setting a trap for him to walk into, were they truly not afraid of letting the wolf into the house, which could lead to the direct fall of the Holy City?

Unfortunately, although he had forcibly kept the old priest in Starfire City, the man was clearly using secrecy as an excuse and was unwilling to explain any further… It wasn’t that Harvey hadn’t considered using force for interrogation, but both Duncan and Arturo had stated that the Pope’s Secret Intercessors possessed some kind of esoteric divine art that allowed them to easily evade mental control induced by magic or alchemical potions. If coerced, they could easily end their lives at any moment, and even a high-rank Necromancer’s spiritual communication rites would be useless afterward.

Through what channels did the Church learn of the historical prophecy of the non-human invasion? What did they rely on to verify this ancient rumor? And… how much did they really know about the mysterious and unknown Demonic Lizardmen, and was there information among it that even Harvey was unaware of…

These questions invisibly spurred Harvey on, making him eager to try. After so many years of rapid development, with a modern army of nearly ten thousand at his command, he was fully confident in dealing with any and all hostile targets on the entire southern continent. Even if he were to clash with the Federation’s legion of less than three thousand Spellcasters, Harvey believed he could achieve a clean sweep on the battlefield.

Currently, defending the main base of Starfire City was naturally the first priority. The Defense Force system had grown to a scale of nearly four thousand men after two rounds of expansion. Two thousand elites were stationed in the Northern Realm, while the remaining two thousand were stationed on a rotational basis in the various important cities of St. Valen. Except in non-essential emergencies, this Defense Army could absolutely not be easily mobilized.

The Northern Army, numbering over six thousand, shouldered the main responsibility of long-range warfare, repelling enemies from beyond their borders. As long as their strategy was sound and logistical supplies kept up, the Northern Army was fully capable of fighting on multiple fronts and achieving victory.

Therefore, whether or not to go to war with the Church… had become a decision Harvey could make with a simple nod.

Dressed in a crisp commander’s uniform, Pierce strode hastily into Harvey’s office. He looked up to see Harvey leaning over, staring raptly at a map of the entire southern continent spread across his desk.

He subconsciously glanced at the map himself and was startled to find three areas, each marked with a red “King’s Chess” piece.

They were the Holy City of Goris; the border fiefdom of the Earl of Westwind, Leon Waters, located at the junction of St. Valen and the Alyrid Duchy; and the ice sea exploration base, thousands of kilometers away from the south.

Noticing Pierce’s arrival, Harvey quickly gestured for him to come over. He pointed at the red chess pieces on the map and smiled. “Pierce, of these three targets, if I plan to launch an offensive this winter… how should I choose two out of the three?”

Pierce recalled the consensus he had reached during a private discussion with his mentor, Astaren. He pondered for a moment before saying, “Facing the non-human Demonic Lizardmen from the far north, I believe we should adopt a defensive posture… before they have fully revealed their tracks. My lord, to be honest, even with our underwater vessels, the frozen tundra and the ice sea are so vast that it would be very difficult to truly detect the main force of the enemy’s southbound attack, let alone the location of their main base…”

Harvey nodded, satisfied with the answer to the first question he had deliberately posed to Pierce—no underestimation of the enemy, no rash advances.

He then picked up the chess piece from the ice sea base’s location, pressed it into Pierce’s hand, and said with a grin, “So what you’re saying is, internally, we should move against the Earl of Westwind and the Alyrid Duchy behind him, and externally, we should consider launching a proactive offensive, marching directly on the Holy City of Goris?”

One would have thought that given Pierce’s zeal for conquest and his aversion to the Radiant Church, he would have unhesitatingly agreed with Harvey’s proposal… Yet, to everyone’s surprise, he carefully took the chess piece Harvey had given him and placed it in a location Harvey could never have expected.

The Hussar Kingdom of Isengard!

Chapter 507: Mending the Pen

“My lord, are you really planning to send troops to attack Isengard?”

Rainer scurried into Harvey’s office on four mechanical legs… Indeed, as the administrative work at the General Municipal Office grew increasingly hectic, Rainer felt that simply adding six metallic secondary limbs was no longer enough. So, he had pleaded with Harvey and Chris to modify his lower body, replacing his two humanoid iron legs with a set of four spider-like legs that were faster and offered a more stable base.

“This winter, we’ve already added a large-scale operation to sweep through the vile orc tribes. After the expansion of the ice sea exploration base is complete, we’ll need to dispatch more troops to patrol it. Goldshine City’s City Hall also sent a local conscription request a few days ago, saying they need to guard against a potential invasion from the Earl of Westwind’s territory…”

Rainer held a thick administrative schedule and rattled on about the recently drafted military plans, adding emphatically at the end, “Besides, the Winter Festival and your coronation ceremony are fast approaching. The eyes of the entire south are upon us right now… To rashly send troops to invade another country without cause at a time like this would likely invite unnecessary trouble!”

Harvey gave a casual smirk. “Excluding the Defense Force that must remain stationed in Starfire City and other locations, I still have a fighting force of over six thousand men. Even if there’s no war… the stipends and costs required to support them are an astronomical figure. Letting them sit idle is a losing proposition no matter how you look at it. Besides, our newly recruited soldiers need to be tempered and grow through real combat. Otherwise, when they truly face a powerful non-human enemy in the future, I’m afraid they’ll be so used to fighting with the wind at their backs that they won’t be able to handle the pressure.”

“What about the Earl of Westwind…” Rainer mumbled under his breath, “The Alyrid Duchy is weak and right next to us. Wouldn’t it be a better choice to attack them instead?”

Harvey sighed and, in a meaningful tone, instructed Rainer, “The Alyrid Duchy is just a mountainous kingdom about the size of Grizzly Bear Territory. It has neither lush, fertile farmlands nor an abundance of any metal ores… What good would it do us to conquer it, given the time and effort it would take?”

Rainer paused, then it dawned on him. “Gold! You’re… you’re after Isengard’s gold mines?”

“More than that. While I never complain about having too much money, I’m not that short-sighted.” Harvey walked over to the map of the south on the wall and pointed to the country of cavalrymen, which also bordered the Spine of the Continent Mountains. “Look. Of all the nations on the southern continent situated along the line south of the Spine of the Continent Mountains, besides our St. Valen… from west to east, there’s Oland, the Papal State of Goris, Isengard, and the Golden Forest of the Elven race in the east.”

The importance of the Spine of the Continent Mountains as a natural defense line against the invasions of Demons and vile orcs was self-evident. If not for this natural barrier stretching across the northern part of the southern continent, the divided and constantly warring Human nations would have long since been overrun by the Demon armies. They would have been devastated long before the ancient non-human races from the continental heartland ever arrived.

In comparison, Harvey’s pioneer city, located north of the Spine of the Continent Mountains, was more like an isolated bastion protruding beyond the defense line. If nothing unexpected happened… it was bound to become the main battlefield for the Demonic Lizardmen’s southern advance in the future.

Raven Ridge, like Vile Moon Mountain, was a lower-altitude region in a branch of the Spine of the Continent Mountains, one that could be crossed easily without any extraordinary means. It was like an obvious gap in a sturdy fence… and living inside that fenced enclosure were the defenseless “sheep” of the Human race.

Before Rainer could fully digest Harvey’s lengthy explanation, Harvey raised his wrist and pointed to Isengard’s northern border. “But what many people don’t know,” he said softly, “is that the section of the Spine of the Continent Mountains adjacent to Isengard… also has a massive canyon rift that can be passed through directly. It’s a potential defensive loophole, and currently, it is completely unguarded.”

“How could that be?” Rainer was stunned. “Isengard has been under the protection of the Radiant Church for hundreds of years and has always been an extremely powerful nation… Have they never been invaded by vile orcs from the north?”

Harvey shook his head. “This country, renowned throughout the south for its elite cavalry, has vast swathes of arid grassland in its northern territories, where no one farms or herds livestock. Even if the vile orcs came south through the gap… they wouldn’t find a single town to plunder for supplies within a radius of hundreds of kilometers. They can’t very well live on grass, so naturally, they aren’t interested in that route.”

The vile orcs, who neither produced nor farmed, would be trapped by hundreds of kilometers of barren grassland, but the Demonic Lizardmen were another matter… To this day, Harvey still hadn’t figured out their species’ characteristics or corresponding biological data. Their extremely low body temperature implied a slow metabolism, which also meant they didn’t need to eat continuously to provide themselves with energy like humans do. Furthermore, if they didn’t target ordinary carbon-based lifeforms for energy… Harvey was worried they wouldn’t need to consider logistical supplies at all and could just silently appear on the southern continent through that natural gap in the mountains near Isengard.

Therefore, the pen had to be mended before the sheep were lost.

“You… How did you find out about this natural gap in the defense line?” Rainer thought Harvey was as miraculous as an all-seeing prophet and couldn’t help but ask, “Have you traveled through the northern grasslands of Isengard before?”

Harvey gave a wry smile. “Astaren happened to see it in an ancient text from the Magic Encyclopedia. He then sought out the Elven students studying at the Spellcaster Academy and indirectly confirmed the fact through them.”

Afterward, of course, he casually mentioned it to his dear successor, Pierce. And Pierce, Starfire City’s number one “military enthusiast,” immediately sensed the potential risk and reported it to Harvey almost instantly. That’s what led to the development of this plan to use military force against Isengard.

Rainer nodded in understanding and lamented, “Although under your tutelage I can be considered a wise man who can read, write, and handle administrative affairs, compared to Mr. Astaren, who is so well-versed in ancient texts and literature, I’m still like an ignorant child.”

No wonder Harvey was always instilling that strange concept of “lifelong learning” in him… Rainer secretly resolved that after he had fully adapted to his newly installed limbs, he would find a suitable opportunity to ask his lord for an upgrade to his Soul Core…

…

The next day, Rainer once again brought his prized assistant, Clem, the head of the Population Management Department, to the castle to seek an audience with Harvey.

Clem looked a little uneasy. He secretly wiped the sweat from his brow and said in a small voice, “Your… Your Majesty, I stayed up all night checking the population records and found that not a single foreigner is from Isengard. I even had Steward Rainer double-check afterward, and it is indeed true.”

Astaren, who was standing to the side, chuckled and turned to Harvey. “You see, my lord, just as I said… Isengard’s closed-door policy is every bit as strict as that of the Elves in the east.”

“Yes, I understand.” Harvey shook his head helplessly. He had heard of the nation of Isengard before, but because St. Valen was quite far from it, with the wizard kingdom of Da’ers in between, he had never really delved deep into understanding it.

He had only learned the clear details from Astaren: Isengard was a kingdom where the entire population, from top to bottom, were believers. Its successive kings were personally appointed by the Pope rather than inheriting by bloodline. Moreover, every feudal lord in the country also held the title of honorary Legion Commander for one of the Army of Judgment legions from the Holy City of Goris. It could be called a magnified, perfect replica of the Papal State.

The most outrageous part was that Isengard strictly forbade its residents from crossing the borders at will. They had set up countless heavily guarded checkpoints of all sizes along their mountainous borders, and any trespassers discovered were to be executed immediately without mercy… On top of that, its people were devout believers who, for the most part, chose to endure the frequent wars and oppression from the upper nobility. It was rare for anyone to willingly abandon their faith and leave their homeland.

“What an insular, traditional, and conservative religious state…” Harvey couldn’t help but sigh. “When my soldiers set foot on Isengard’s soil, they’ll probably be treated like the evil invaders the American military is made out to be.”

Chapter 508: A New Challenge for the Shepherd Knight

By the end of this autumn, it would be Anbiki Kenny’s second year of residence in the Northern Realm.

It would also be the first anniversary of his marriage to his wife, Sophia. By next summer… they would welcome a lovely child, and he would naturally be promoted to the role of a father.

Although he hadn’t lived in Starfire City for long, his past experiences felt increasingly like a distant, hazy dream. He had long since forgotten the knightly combat skills he had once barely mastered. Having grown accustomed to pedaling a light and nimble bicycle, he found he could no longer get used to riding a horse.

His body, neglected from lack of exercise, was gradually putting on weight. His wife had stuffed all his old-fashioned clothes into the bottom of a trunk and bought him several new outfits in the style currently trending in Starfire City—a short formal jacket paired with a soft, comfortable cotton shirt, and loose, straight-cut trousers below. This style not only accentuated his tall frame but also subtly concealed his slightly bulging belly.

After his stubborn and traditionalist father voluntarily surrendered his fiefdom’s farmlands to the government, he moved to Starfire City to live. Once his injured leg was replaced with a brand-new mechanical prosthetic, he regained his former vigor. He now spent his days leading a group of similarly spirited peers, galloping across the barren grasslands around Starfire City and enjoying outings and hunts.

This group of nobles, led by the old Baron Kenny, were among the astute individuals who had been the first to surrender their lands in exchange for shares. Most of them held highly profitable stocks in railway and shipping companies. As long as they didn’t commit any crimes, they could live out the rest of their days comfortably in Starfire City on the returns from their investments.

In contrast to his son’s relaxed attitude, the old Kenny still clearly saw his noble title and knightly status as a pure symbol of honor. He had even gone to the great trouble of having a full set of knight’s armor shipped from his old home. He kept it polished to a brilliant shine, and any guest who visited would be subjected to his long-winded tales of his past “glory days.”

Anbiki Kenny, on the other hand, having just been smoothly promoted to the acting position of Minister of Agriculture, made a point of never mentioning his past service and fealty to the former Earl Fegan. By comparison, he much preferred it if people overlooked his original identity as a noble knight and treated him as an ordinary local. An honorary noble title wasn’t anything special in Starfire City. What truly earned respect was being one of the first locals to join City Lord Harvey and help him build the pioneer territories from the ground up.

After entering the City Hall’s Agriculture Department as a prisoner of war, his career had taken off as rapidly as Starfire City’s own development. He went from head of the Animal Husbandry Group to the head of the Agriculture Department in less than a year and a half. Seizing the opportunity presented by Starfire City’s population boom, he established all sorts of farms, large and small, adding essential fresh ingredients to the daily meals of the people of the Northern Realm.

When the City Lord’s Eastern Expansion project began, he actively responded by planning an even larger pastureland at the Eastern Expansion base. The staff and apprentices under him gradually became proficient through practical experience, mastering various animal husbandry techniques like livestock disease prevention, feeding for fattening, birthing, and breeding. This finally freed Kenny up to learn the experience and knowledge of managing the entire Agriculture Department from Director Rainer.

As for the knights who had been captured alongside him, plus the minor nobles who had pledged allegiance over the past few years, most of them were living quite well. But if one were to make a comparison, Anbiki Kenny, who had climbed to the position of Acting Minister of Agriculture in less than two years, was certainly the most successful among them.

He leisurely pedaled his bicycle to City Hall. Kenny was planning to first brief his subordinates on the day’s important tasks before heading out to inspect the farms and the mill district. However, he was stopped by Rainer, who had come looking for him.

Kenny wasn’t afraid of Rainer, who now had two extra legs. He was well aware that this Municipal Director with a body of steel was actually very gentle and wise, and his daily guidance was always unreservedly patient and meticulous.

“Ah, Director Rainer, is something the matter?”

“The City Lord has summoned you. Don’t delay,” Rainer said, his tone dry and emotionless.

Kenny paid it no mind. He took long strides to catch up to Rainer, who was about to turn and leave, and asked with a smile in a low voice, “Director, the City Lord is about to be officially crowned… everyone is talking about it. When can we start addressing him as Your Majesty?”

Rainer paused for a moment, then turned to look at Kenny. In a rare gesture, he lightly patted him on the shoulder, and his icy tone finally carried a hint of warmth. “Good! With that sentiment, you may call him Your Majesty whenever you wish.”

Kenny soon arrived at the castle and was led into Harvey’s office by a personal guard.

“Anbiki Kenny of the Agriculture Department greets Your Majesty!” Before Harvey could even look up from his desk, Kenny knelt on one knee and performed a knight’s salute by placing a fist over his chest.

Harvey looked up, frowning slightly. He hadn’t even sent out the official notice yet. How had people already started calling him Your Majesty? Was this some new kind of sycophant race?

“Rise,” Harvey said. Despite his inner thoughts, he outwardly acted as if he hadn’t heard. “Your work performance this year has been particularly outstanding. Rainer has unconsciously praised you to me several times now… especially regarding the establishment of the livestock pastures at the Eastern Expansion base. I thought the project would be shelved after the old minister retired due to illness, but you’ve done an even better job since taking over.”

Kenny stood up and said respectfully, “It is my duty to serve Your Majesty and the people.”

“Very good. I have a new, very important mission for you. It involves confidential technology from military manufacturing and the Alchemy Laboratory, so you must maintain strict secrecy in the process… Of course, if you do well, I imagine the ‘acting’ part of your ‘acting minister’ title will soon be dropped.”

“Please give me your orders, Your Majesty!” Outwardly, Kenny appeared calm and obedient, but his heart skipped a beat. If he could successfully complete the mission His Majesty assigned, he could be officially confirmed in his position soon. Perhaps at this year’s Winter Festival… he might even have His Majesty personally pin a medal on him!

Harvey was very satisfied with his reaction. He then stood up and said, “Then come with me to the castle’s underground laboratory now…”

Kenny trembled, a thought suddenly striking him. The City Lord… no! His Majesty had once been a powerful and mysterious Spellcaster!

What kind of mission could a Spellcaster have for an ordinary mortal? And why would it take place in his magic laboratory?

Filled with apprehension, Kenny followed Harvey into a mechanical elevator, which slowly descended to the second basement level. A wide, cast-iron door appeared before him.

Harvey lightly raised his hand and made a grasping motion at the door. From the other side came the harsh sound of turning mechanisms, and then the door slowly creaked open inward.

He stepped inside first, but just as he crossed the threshold, he seemed to remember something. He turned to look at the pale-faced Kenny and asked—

“I forgot to ask you earlier, are you afraid of bugs?”

Chapter 509: Catalyzing Beetles

“Are you normally afraid of bugs?”

Anbiki Kenny swallowed hard and answered drily, “N-no… not afraid!”

Provided they weren’t bigger than a person… Through the half-open, cast-iron gate, Kenny could faintly hear strange noises from within. It sounded like a massive number of glass marbles rolling rapidly over a hard stone floor, a sound that grew closer and more intense by the second.

Is that… is that some kind of living creature crawling? Could that be what His Majesty called “bugs”?

Seeing Harvey had already stepped inside, Kenny, who was following behind, could only grit his teeth, shut his eyes, and charge in, steeling himself for what was to come.

The rustling sound he had heard through the iron gate instantly vanished. The Shepherd Knight opened his eyes and looked around, finding himself in a spacious underground cavern. The walls and floor had clearly been artificially polished, but the many stalactites hanging from the ceiling revealed its natural origins.

By the light of the magic stones embedded in the stone walls, Kenny saw several smaller models of alchemical vehicles parked in the cavern hall. Compared to the common enclosed War Beast vehicles, these smaller vehicles were clearly open-topped… and judging by the seats, they could carry at most four people.

“Alright, get in.” Harvey swung a leg into the vehicle, taking a seat in the back. Kenny cautiously climbed in as well, sitting stiffly beside Harvey. He felt a soft texture beneath him… the vehicle’s seats were actually made of leather.

Two personal guards walked up in silence and sat in front of Harvey and Kenny. In front of one of them was a hollow metal disc, which looked like a miniature mechanical winch.

The vehicle was quickly activated. Its slightly vibrating body carried the four of them slowly deeper into the cavern, eventually entering a long, dark tunnel.

“Your… Your Majesty, where are we going? Are we heading deep underground?” Kenny’s voice trembled slightly. “And the bugs you mentioned… where are they?”

Harvey let out a soft laugh. “To South Slope Base. The bugs are very shy. They all hid when they heard a stranger’s footsteps.”

The castle’s underground connected directly to South Slope Base!

Kenny felt his heart pounding. No wonder His Majesty had demanded absolute secrecy. For something involving a secret underground passage, if anyone outside his inner circle were to learn of it, a gruesome death to ensure their silence would likely be the only outcome.

The alchemical vehicle, its two magic stone lamps piercing the darkness, traveled through the gloomy tunnel for over an hour before arriving at an even flatter and more open underground hall. Many soldiers in dark gray uniforms were bustling about. Seeing Harvey’s vehicle arrive, many of them turned to bow to him.

The base director, Pepp, still looking as grimy as ever, jogged up to Harvey with a metal helmet on his head and saluted, then turned to size up Kenny.

“My lord City Lord, is this the… breeding expert you mentioned?”

“Mm, this mission will require the two of you to cooperate. How have the beetles been lately? How long until the next breeding cycle?”

Pepp smiled. “The bugs’ feeding frequency and activity patterns are all normal. They were just a little agitated just now, so I figured you must be on your way.”

Harvey nodded, then suddenly raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Immediately, the entire underground hall filled with countless rustling sounds. A massive number of beetles, glowing with a faint, pure white light, suddenly swarmed out from the crevices in the surrounding stone walls. Seemingly no longer afraid of the people in the hall, they rushed toward where Harvey stood at an incredible speed.

Good heavens! So many bugs!

Kenny was so scared he stumbled and fell to the ground, nearly crying out in alarm!

Fortunately, the fist-sized glowing bugs didn’t charge straight at him to devour him… Instead, they formed a circle around the group, with Harvey at the center. The sound of the beetles’ hard, jointed legs tapping and skittering across the ground was exactly what Kenny had heard through the iron gate back under the castle!

These bugs had been following them all the way from beneath the castle!

“Don’t be afraid. They don’t attack humans without reason; sometimes they even actively avoid them,” Harvey explained to Kenny in a gentle voice. “Once you get used to them, you’ll see these little guys are actually quite docile.”

How could His Majesty tell that a swarm of bugs was docile… Besides, there were just so many of them!

Kenny took a deep breath, forced himself to calm down, and got up from the floor.

“Your Majesty, is the task you have for me to raise these glowing bugs?”

Harvey nodded. “That’s right. Let’s talk as we walk. We’ll go check the feeding grounds first…”

“These are called Energy-devouring beetles. Their by-product is an important strategic resource. The main material used to make ammunition for the Magical Energy Guns and cannons you know of comes from them.” Harvey paused, then turned to give Kenny a meaningful look. “If a military secret of this level were to be leaked, you should know the consequences.”

A chill ran down Kenny’s spine. He quickly clenched a fist and beat it against his chest, saying, “Your subordinate will guard this secret and never reveal it!”

To have such a crucial military secret revealed to him meant that His Majesty must see him as a trusted confidant. If he could do a good job, his future would surely be limitless.

The group soon arrived at the feeding grounds deeper underground. Kenny instantly saw even more glowing beetles than there were in the hall. When they gathered together, he even had the terrifying illusion that the entire massive mountain cavern was glowing.

“I have to raise… raise this many bugs?”

“This is just one of the feeding grounds, holding an average of around one hundred thousand beetles. They enter a breeding cycle every forty days. After the cycle ends, the females merge directly into the magic stone crystal pillars to lay their eggs, while the males gradually die off… finally transforming into a pure magic stone of the same size. This is the sole raw material for creating liquid magical energy…”

As Harvey spoke, he suddenly changed the subject and asked Kenny, “I heard you once tried crossbreeding common domestic pigs from the south with a beast from the barren lands called the Long-Tusked Bristlebeast, and successfully bred a new type of domestic pig that was larger, had more tender meat, and a shorter breeding cycle?”

This was an achievement Kenny had always been proud of. He couldn’t help but puff out his chest and say with a hint of pride, “Yes, Your Majesty. Through observation, I found that the Long-Tusked Bristlebeast and the domestic pigs from the south were very similar in their habits, feeding preferences, and physical structure, so I had the hunting teams capture live specimens for breeding experiments…”

Harvey nodded and lightly tapped the ground with the tip of his foot. The nearest beetle immediately sensed Harvey’s command and quickly skittered up the back of his foot, finally coming to a docile rest on his palm.

“The bugs are very docile, not aggressive at all… Their preferred food is the magic stones in this mine. Their range of activity isn’t very large either. Between the feeding grounds and the breeding grounds is a nesting area. They dig out small crevices in the mountain walls to hide in.”

He clapped Kenny on the shoulder and said, “Just like you did with crossbreeding the pigs, I want you to observe and study these beetles. Compare your findings with Pepp’s previous records of their biological habits, and see if you can find a way to make them grow faster and enter their breeding cycle more frequently, so we can double the output of pure magic stones.”

Chapter 510: A Reason for War, Delivered

Assigning Anbiki Kenny, the breeding expert, to raise the Energy-devouring beetles was not some sudden whim of Harvey’s. It was because the majority of the munitions factories in his territory had recently initiated plans to increase output. Coupled with the Northern Army’s nearly non-stop campaigns over the past year, the consumption rate of ammunition and supplies had become startlingly fast. This forced Harvey to once again prioritize the breeding and production rate of the beetles, which served as raw material.

Ever since he had successfully devoured the Magic Core in the underground ruins of the South Slope Base, Harvey had gained the peculiar talent of sensing all soul constructs, along with a secondary ability… the power to control the vast swarms of Energy-devouring beetles.

The swarm seemed to view Harvey as a “queen bee” in a hive. They constantly tried to get closer to him and attempted to feed him the pure magical energy they had stored—unfortunately, as a being of flesh and blood, he couldn’t directly consume liquid magical energy. Perhaps one day, when his body aged and was completely replaced with an alchemical body, these beetles would become his millions of personal power banks.

Through his ability to control the swarm, Harvey also came to fully understand the unique nature of these strange creatures born from magic stone veins. Their behavior was abnormally rigid, and their intelligence was extremely low. At most, they could only comprehend a few simple commands issued by Harvey. Once a command exceeded their cognitive range, they would just scurry around in a confused heap.

For instance, when Harvey issued commands like “eat frequently” or “begin to reproduce,” he got no response from a single beetle in the swarm. It seemed these purely energy-based creatures, which possessed no brain tissue whatsoever, couldn’t understand why they should continue eating when they were already full, or why they should reproduce ahead of schedule.

In the end, he could only place his hopes in the Shepherd Knight Anbiki Kenny, who was skilled in raising livestock, to come and see if he could figure out the beetles’ true habits by treating them as if they were animals.

Harvey left the Shepherd Knight at the South Slope Base to conduct research with director Pepp, while he himself returned to the castle through the underground tunnel in an alchemical vehicle.

The moment he returned to his study, Astaren and Pierce hurried in.

Astaren’s expression was naturally impossible to read, but Pierce’s face was alight with unconcealable joy and excitement.

“My lord, the secret police we sent to the Isengard border have sent back red intelligence of the highest level!” Astaren handed Harvey a secret letter transcribed from the Magic Brain communicator.

Harvey unfolded the letter and glanced at it. What was written on it was startling—

[The current King of Isengard, Heracles, has become depraved and mad due to a devilish ritual. He has ambushed and killed several of his noble vassals who also served as Legion Commanders in the Holy City’s Army of Judgment. The situation in the capital, Ironhill, is unstable, and border garrisons show signs of being recalled to provide aid.]

Harvey crushed the letter in his hand and stood up in disbelief. “We just decided to use military force against Isengard, and their king suddenly goes mad from a Devil’s influence, sending his kingdom into instant chaos… don’t you think this is all a bit too coincidental?”

“Isn’t this a reason for war, delivered right to our doorstep?” Pierce said excitedly. “Besides, the King of Isengard’s madness probably didn’t happen overnight. We just happened to stumble upon this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

Astaren pondered for a moment before speaking slowly, “It is indeed too coincidental. From the Church’s side, the Pope has taken the initiative to show us weakness. Now Isengard, the Church’s most powerful vassal state in the south, just happens to erupt into internal strife at this very moment… all signs seem to indicate that the Church’s power in the south may be starting to crumble.”

Harvey nodded, then turned to Pierce. “A reason for war, delivered to our doorstep? You mean using the excuse of rescuing refugees affected by the war to force them to open their borders?”

Pierce’s face flushed. He stammered, “Isn’t that the tactic you’re best at, My lord? Using the rescue of refugees as a pretext for deploying troops allows us to seize the moral high ground in the court of public opinion, so we don’t lose the support of the people.”

Astaren cut Pierce off, shaking his head. “We cannot accept the people of Isengard… they are all devout believers of the Church.”

Harvey walked over to the map, his eyes tracing the vast plains and winding mountainous borders that belonged to Isengard.

“How are the General Staff Headquarters’ pre-war preparations coming along?”

Astaren immediately replied, “After repeated calculations, the General Staff believes that due to the long distance and overly extended supply lines for this cross-border operation, the number of troops committed to the battlefield should not be too large… preferably kept under two thousand men.”

After all, their main objective was to open a safe route to the great rift in the Spine of the Continent Mountains, establish a permanent military base there capable of long-range teleportation, and complete the work of “plugging the gaps” in the natural defensive line of the mountains ahead of time. It wasn’t to march directly on Isengard’s capital, Ironhill, and depose the king who had been driven mad by a Devil’s influence.

The long march would first require them to cross the wizard kingdom Da’ers, which was situated between the two nations. Although they could smooth things over diplomatically beforehand through their relationship with the Federation, having the formidable army of Harvey, the renowned King of the North, brazenly enter another country… would inevitably cause local unrest. Procuring supplies locally would be impossible, which meant the expeditionary force would need to be self-sufficient and carry a large amount of war supplies and equipment.

The first obstacle they would encounter upon formally entering Isengard would be the continuous mountain range that formed a natural border. The few available passes were all heavily fortified with high walls and strong defenses. Breaching any one of them would be both time-consuming and costly.

They also had to be wary of Isengard’s bloodline knights and battle priests. Most of them belonged to the Church’s radical Divine Punishment Faction and viewed spellcasters and mortals using magical weapons as blasphemous heretics. Taking this into consideration, the General Staff specifically requested that two high-rank battle mages be dispatched with the army to counter any surprise attacks from these transcendent beings.

“Which border pass is currently the most viable target for a breakthrough?” Harvey pointed at the three locations on the map marked with small red flags. Each pass was located within the fiefdom of a different border lord.

“In terms of marching distance, the fastest to reach would be Wolf Fang Ridge. But because that pass has been on guard against the wizard kingdom Da’ers, their long-time enemy, it has the largest garrison… and a large number of bloodline knights and battle priests are stationed with them.”

“The one with the weakest defenses is Burning Wind Fortress, which is a bit farther. It’s the fiefdom of Baron Ramirez and has a garrison of less than a thousand. However, Burning Wind Fortress is situated on a high cliff in a canyon, making its terrain easily defensible and difficult to attack. Without deploying Airships, it would be difficult for us to inflict any devastating damage on it.”

The last location, Thorn City, was the farthest, almost adjacent to the edge of the Golden Forest of the Elven race in the east. If they chose to enter from there, Harvey’s expeditionary force would have to spend at least an extra month on the march, and they wouldn’t be able to get any supplies in the vast mountain ranges along the way. Harvey rejected this option on the spot.

“Let’s hold off on deciding the main point of attack for now. We can’t always rely on our superiority in firepower to launch a frontal assault… the expeditionary force’s ammunition reserves and supplies can’t withstand that level of consumption. There will be more obstacles once we’re inside Isengard; we must precisely control our consumption in every battle.”

Harvey waved his hand and pondered for a moment before saying, “Let me think of another way…”

For instance, they could start with the mad king and see what this “devilish ritual” that supposedly led to his downfall was all about… Perhaps asking Mr. Mind Devil, who hadn’t visited in a long time, might reveal some of the truth.

Chapter 511: The Second High-Ranking Demon

In the underground Laboratory of Harvey’s castle, there was a small, partitioned-off cubicle. Inside, a summoning and sacrificial formation had been set up, magically reinforced.

After chanting the summoning incantation with practiced ease, Harvey saw, just as he’d hoped, a dark red mist swirling within the formation. Then, the Mind Devil’s ethereal figure slowly emerged from an irregular spatial passage in the vortex.

The Devil extended its long, twisted, gaunt arms in a gesture of embrace. “Long time no see, Mr. Kel’Thuzad!”

“Long time no see, Mr. Mind Devil,” Harvey said with a smile. “I’ve been busy with political affairs lately, so I entrusted Astaren with summoning and receiving you. But he told me you rarely responded…”

The massive single eye on the Mind Devil’s head blinked, and a chorus of overlapping voices spoke at once: “You know, in your domain, I can almost only collect positive Votive Power. Its composition is simply too monotonous and dull. If this continues for a long time… I’m afraid it will lead to my imbalance, which is a very dangerous thing.”

Harvey nodded in understanding. The Mind Devil had told him long ago that the entire reason the Devil race frequently contacted humans through faith and sacrificial rituals was fundamentally to collect the Votive Power released when human desires were stimulated. The composition of this “food,” unique to Devils, had to be sufficiently complex and diverse for them to maintain the balance of their own existence… just as humans needed to ensure a balanced diet.

However, the consequences for a Devil breaking this “dietary balance” were quite severe. As a high-ranking demon, an imbalance in the Votive Power He had accumulated could lead to a slow, irreversible degeneration over the long ages, causing Him to fall directly to the level of a low-ranking demon and become a chaotic, bloodthirsty, and inferior being. This was something the already scarce high-ranking demons could never accept. Compared to madness, They would even prefer to fall into a long slumber.

“So… you’ve been elsewhere during this time, reorganizing your followers to collect negative Votive Power for you?”

The Mind Devil chuckled softly. “Then have you heard of any evil, bloody devilish rituals happening in the south recently?”

“I don’t believe I have…” Harvey smiled faintly. “I’ve met some of your followers. Though their actions are quite mad and peculiar, they don’t seem keen on gratuitous slaughter and flesh-and-blood sacrifices.”

The Mind Devil snorted with a touch of pride. “Of course. While some other high-ranking demons may enjoy such bloody sacrificial rites, I am not like them. Don’t forget, I am the Mind Devil! Compared to the cruel madness inflicted upon the flesh, the terror that detonates on a spiritual level is far more pleasing to me…”

He paused mid-sentence, the huge, blood-red single eye blinking again in confusion. “You’ve found traces of another high-ranking demon?”

With that, he crossed his arms, speaking with some displeasure. “I haven’t been constantly reading your thoughts, but the atmosphere of our conversation today is a bit strange. I get the feeling you’re testing me!”

Harvey shrugged and explained with a smile, “I apologize. There was indeed a sensational devilish ritual incident recently, and I subconsciously assumed you were behind it.”

High-ranking demons were few and far between; an encounter like Harvey’s, which happened by chance while roaming the Magic Net, was exceptionally rare. Yet in the real world, most of the rituals and incantations for summoning high-ranking demons had long been lost or destroyed. Therefore, when it came to the devilish ritual that occurred in Isengard… he had subconsciously thought of the Mind Devil.

After hearing Harvey’s explanation, the Mind Devil clicked his tongue in displeasure. “Human stereotypes are so tiresome… But this was not my doing. I have no interest in driving a human king mad.”

Harvey was puzzled. “So… there’s another high-ranking demon manipulating this affair?”

“Why must the culprit be a Devil? Hmph… Just because we’re the embodiment of evil and corruption, all acts of madness and depravity can be blamed on devils, is that right?”

“Perhaps it was from ingesting some untested magic potion, or a dangerous flesh-and-blood reinforcement ritual… In short, there are many reasons a person can go mad. Don’t just lump all the blame on devils. I’ve even seen a high noble claim he committed incest with his children because he was tempted by a devil… and those holy rollers from the Church’s tribunal actually chose to believe him! They really held a grand exorcism mass for him and then pardoned him for his crimes.”

The more the Mind Devil spoke, the more agitated He became. It seemed that after absorbing an abundance of Votive Power, He was beginning to uncontrollably exhibit a humanity that came with desires and emotions.

Harvey found this rather amusing and quickly changed the subject. “In any case, I want to uncover the truth. Even if it’s just a vile conspiracy using a devil’s name, exposing it to the public would be beneficial to my current plans… I need a legitimate reason to go to war.”

“You’re going to war with Isengard?” The Mind Devil’s tone turned joyful, and He immediately made a request. “Take me to the battlefield! War is always accompanied by death, and it would be such a shame to let all that fear, resentment, and anguish of the dying go to waste.”

Harvey’s lips curled into a smile, knowing he had achieved his goal. “How about this: you help me investigate the devilish ritual in Isengard, and in return, I’ll summon you on the battlefield?”

“Done!” the Mind Devil said smugly. “This is simple for me.”

“You’ll need to have your followers infiltrate Isengard, won’t you? That’s a country where the Church’s faith and influence are deeply entrenched. Even the Federation of Casters can’t establish a foothold there…”

“Even beneath the brightest of lights, a shadow is sure to exist… Rest assured, I already have followers in Isengard, and their status is not low.”

…

After sending Mr. Mind Devil away, Harvey immediately returned to his office in the castle.

Astaren was sitting before the Magic Brain device, handling Harvey’s online duties for the Spellcaster Forum.

“My lord, since the news that you, a Spellcaster, are to be crowned King has spread on the Forum… it has stirred up those magic politicians again. Quite a few members have sent you private messages and communication requests recently.”

Harvey pursed his lips and waved a dismissive hand. “Aside from my few friends in the real world, don’t reply to any of them. Rejecting them outright would seem too arrogant, so just pretend you haven’t seen them.”

Astaren nodded, then asked, “Then… should we also ignore the message from Mr. Earth’s Favored of the Barkley Duchy?”

Harvey recalled the help and tacit approval he had received from Earth’s Favored during the campaign against Duke Carlo. Although it was partly to use him to suppress a border lord who posed a threat to the royal family, he still owed the man a small favor.

He then walked over to the Magic Brain device and tapped the crystal screen to open the message.

As expected, Mr. Earth’s Favored was once again asking about the official coronation date, stating that he wished to prepare a congratulatory gift to be sent to the Northern Realm ahead of time—this was both a congratulation from a fellow Spellcaster Forum member to the “agent” and a sign of respect and recognition from the Barkley royal family to the new king of a neighboring country.

He then mentioned the transportation of the ironclad ships. The Ralph River, which ran from south to north through the center of the south, also had a section that flowed through the Barkley Duchy. It was their only waterway to reach Faros and enter the sea. If they could cooperate with Harvey on ironclad ship navigation, it would naturally be nothing but beneficial.

This was all to be expected, and Harvey wasn’t surprised. He wasn’t a warmonger. With a close Forum member mediating, having a neighboring country that was willing to cooperate for mutual benefit was a good thing for both St. Valen and the Northern Realm.

But a tentative request at the end of the letter left Harvey utterly flabbergasted.

Mr. Earth’s Favored, on behalf of the Barkley royal family and the Koffman family, was proposing a political marriage between their two nations… and the candidate for this marriage was none other than their newly crowned Queen.

Chapter 512: New Portable Cannon

“What? You’re planning to hold the Winter Festival as a military parade this year?” Rainer shook his head like a rattle. “That’s not a good idea, my lord… It would be one thing if we just had the soldiers parade in formation, but a live-fire exercise would be a bit of a waste. We still have several military plans to push forward after the new year. Wouldn’t it be better to save this precious ammunition for a real enemy?”

Harvey chuckled. “Don’t worry about waste. During the live-fire exercise, we can pre-bury some Dragon’s Flame powder and alchemical bombs on the firing range. Then we can detonate them all at once. We’ll still be able to create a spectacular scene of firepower coverage. It’ll be enough to give the laymen a good show.”

Pierce had a flash of insight and immediately nodded. “I understand. I’ll go inform logistics…”

Harvey quickly stopped him. “Wait. Regarding the new cannon research and development we discussed last time, Chris and the others have made some headway.”

“Really? You mean the portable cannon you mentioned?” Pierce rubbed his hands together in pleasant surprise and pleaded, “My lord, please take me to see it! Even a prototype would be fine.”

In fact, the heavy weight and difficult transportation of the Magical-Powered Cannons had been thoroughly exposed during the last military campaign against Duke Carlo. Without the convenience of river transport and the speed of ironclad ships, even with the immensely strong alchemical camel-beasts pulling them, long cross-country marches would cause the gun carriage wheels to get frequently stuck in muddy meadows and wetlands. It would drag the alchemical beasts down with them, forcing soldiers to pull them out by hand.

At the same time, due to the barrel forging process and shell manufacturing issues, the Magical-Powered Cannon had a relatively slow rate of fire. Compared to the Magical Energy Naval Cannons that needed to be fixed to city walls and warships, they were far less powerful… Now that they had new heavy cannons with longer range and a faster rate of fire, this relatively outdated artillery piece seemed a bit obsolete, a prime target for an upgrade or to be phased out.

“Is there really a portable cannon that a soldier can carry on their own? How is that different from a Magical Energy Gun?” Astaren was very puzzled.

Harvey led the group to the magical munitions factory adjacent to the Alchemy Laboratory, where Chris and Benoit, still busy at their workbenches, presented the prototype.

Pierce circled it, studying it for a long while before scratching his head and looking at Harvey. “My lord, this looks more like a Magical Energy Gun with a thickened barrel. How can you call it a cannon? You could fit your head inside the barrels of the Magical-Powered Cannons and Magical Energy Cannons.”

Harvey smiled without a word, gesturing for Chris to explain.

“This portable cannon has two different models, for direct and indirect fire respectively. Although its range isn’t as far as the heavy cannons… its portability completely makes up for this shortcoming.”

“The portable cannon can be disassembled and its parts distributed among several soldiers for transport. It can then be assembled right before battle, making it a weapon perfectly suited for long-distance, cross-country warfare.”

Astaren curled his metal fingers and tapped lightly on the cannon’s barrel. “It’s not cast from pure steel? No wonder it’s so thin. Won’t it be prone to barrel explosions when fired?”

It was a known fact that during the design and live-fire testing of the two heavy magical energy cannons, there had been several accidents involving barrel explosions caused by an overly high ratio of liquid magical energy in the shells. They had learned to calibrate the proper bore diameter and magical energy ratio through truly hard-won lessons.

Chris explained smugly, “Don’t worry! Not using pure steel wasn’t just to save on steel; a cast steel barrel is simply too heavy. The City Lord wanted us to reduce the weight as much as possible, so we tried mixing in some magical minerals.”

Pierce pressed eagerly, “What about the production and power of its specialized shells?”

Benoit spoke slowly, “We’ve reduced the ratio of liquid magical energy and increased the proportion of Dragon’s Flame powder… The production line is already in place. We just need to forge a new set of molds. The process is simple, and the output will be absolutely plentiful!”

“As for the power… hehe, while it can’t compare to a heavy cannon bombardment, we can fully compensate with a high rate of fire and dense coverage. Besides, ordinary soldiers can easily learn to use it, and it doesn’t require a dedicated artillery unit to operate.”

Harvey smiled. “That’s right. This is, in the truest sense, a ‘clustered casting’ weapon for the common soldier!”

…

In reality, Harvey had long had many concepts for the development of a portable cannon.

It wasn’t until the expedition to the Barkley Duchy, when the Northern Army’s long march exposed the clear disadvantages of their artillery transport, that he immediately decided to put his ideas into actual development.

Although he hadn’t been a proper “military enthusiast” in his past life, he had at least picked up a lot of related common knowledge from war games and history. Given Starfire City’s current technological level, which blended magic and science, creating firearms that ordinary soldiers could operate was already a considerable achievement.

Considering that their enemies were not only noble cavalry and mortal armies, but also Spellcasters and the forces of the Church, and that in the future they would face powerful non-human races with strange weapons and special talents, a comprehensive assessment led to one conclusion… they had to expand their firepower coverage as much as possible. Heavy cannons would be responsible for long-range precision strikes, portable cannons would fill in for mid-range fire coverage, and machine guns and rifles would work in tandem at close range.

The portable cannon’s shorter range, which might be seen as a disadvantage, happened to perfectly fill the firepower gap between heavy cannons and rifles. The indirect fire model also possessed the unique characteristic of being able to bombard targets over obstacles, making it a perfect missing piece of the puzzle.

When they officially launched their offensive against Isengard, the portable cannons could be disassembled and carried by soldiers, allowing for light and agile movement across mountains and ridges. They could establish artillery positions at any preset attack point within the border mountains and suddenly launch a swift, concentrated bombardment against unsuspecting enemy military fortresses.

What satisfied Harvey the most was… the portable cannon’s shells were several times superior to those of the two heavy magical energy cannons in terms of both manufacturing difficulty and material consumption. Due to the cannon’s simple structure and firing principle, the shell casing only needed to be pressed from the cheapest cast iron. The interior was mainly filled with Dragon’s Flame powder, which acted as a propellant. A small amount of liquid magical energy would, upon triggering the fuse on impact, unleash a violent mana fluctuation that would scatter the large number of small metal pellets packed inside, producing an effect completely identical to a bursting shell.

He had originally considered personal hand grenades as well. However, after having Chris create and test some experimental samples, he found that Dragon’s Flame powder, when used as a substitute for gunpowder, still had many diferences in its combustion and explosive properties. A hand-thrown grenade filled only with Dragon’s Flame powder was too weak, practically a magical version of a Molotov cocktail. But mixing in liquid magical energy caused stability issues; after releasing the pin, it would either suddenly explode in the user’s hand or fail to detonate long after being thrown.

Concerned for the safety of his soldiers, Harvey ultimately had to abandon this idea.

Taking two days off for Spring Festival, wishing everyone a Happy New Year!

Taking two days off for Spring Festival, wishing everyone a Happy New Year!

I’d like to announce my New Year’s leave to all my dear readers in advance. I’ll be taking off on New Year’s Eve and the first day of the New Year to go back to my hometown for the reunion dinner and visit relatives with my parents.

Updates will resume as normal from the second day of the New Year.

I’ve been busy all year and haven’t earned much, but using the royalties I earned from writing part-time to buy my parents gifts gives me a great sense of satisfaction…

And finally, I wish everyone a Happy New Year! May all your wishes come true! Peace and joy to you all!

Chapter 513: Political Marriage

Ald Koffman closed the crystal screen of the Magic Brain device and let out a long breath as he sat at his solid wood desk.

After a long and covert search on the Spellcaster Forum, he had recently spent nearly half of his hard-earned points, along with an improved eighth-circle high-rank spell from the Koffman family’s secret collection, to finally acquire what he wanted through Mr. Man in the Mirror.

After a long silence, he stubbornly reopened the Magic Brain device, entered the handle “Earth’s Favored,” and re-entered the Forum’s private chat channel. The handle for Kel’Thuzad was still gray, indicating that the other party hadn’t entered the Forum at all during this time… He had no idea if he had even seen the message he sent.

Then again, as the Mage Lord who commanded the Northern Realm and the Duchy of St. Valen, Mr. Kel’Thuzad was about to be officially crowned King. He was likely so busy with worldly affairs that he had no opportunity to check the Forum.

Bang!

The heavy door to the study was suddenly pushed open, and a woman dressed in the standard-issue armor of the Royal Knights of Barkley strode in. She planted her hands on her hips and stood before Ald with a furious expression.

The two mage apprentices guarding the door hung their heads in dejection, seemingly dismayed at their failure to stop her from barging in.

Ald sighed, waving his hand for the apprentices to close the door and withdraw.

“Great-grandfather, why did you propose a marriage alliance to that Mage Lord of the Northern Realm without my consent?”

The female knight had clearly vented some of her anger before arriving. Although she was still furious, she managed to maintain a veneer of composure. But as she paced back and forth, her waist-length, ink-black hair swung, occasionally revealing a hint of dark green.

“Diane, how long has it been since you dyed your hair? Haven’t you been using the magical dye I sent you on time?” Ald chided with a frown.

“That dye smells awful! Besides dealing with state affairs every day, I also have to frequently visit the Knight Order to supervise my subordinates’ combat training. Where would I find the time to fuss with my hair all day?”

The female knight argued loudly for a moment, then suddenly remembered her purpose and said angrily, “Great-grandfather! You’re changing the subject again! We were talking about the political marriage. I demand an explanation!”

Ald sat motionless in his high-backed chair. He merely raised a hand and flicked a finger. A stream of dark green light shot from his fingertip, striking Diane at the temple and instantly dyeing her black-and-green-streaked hair completely dark.

Diane didn’t have time to react. Her left hand had just subconsciously reached for the hilt of her side sword when the spell hit her forehead, making her already displeased expression even more one of shame and anger.

“You are no longer the commander of the Royal Knight Order. As Her Majesty the Queen of the Barkley Duchy, countless eyes are watching your every word and deed. Do you really want the secret you’ve hidden for over twenty years to be exposed to the public?”

Diane’s grip on her sword hilt tightened before she slumped into the chair opposite Ald, defeated. “So? You plan to marry me off to the ruler of a neighboring country just because he’s a Spellcaster like you and can help me keep this secret?”

She paused, then added with biting sarcasm, “If the marriage alliance is successful, are you planning for me to marry him and move there, so you can re-emerge to control the country’s politics… or will that Lord of the Northern Realm willingly leave his own duchy to come to Barkley and be a powerless, idle prince consort?”

The hand Ald was about to raise to stroke his beard froze in mid-air. He coughed awkwardly. “I see you’re blinded by anger. This is only a nominal marriage. You won’t be going to St. Valen… and of course, that new King won’t be coming to Barkley!”

He paused before explaining in a softer tone, “If it weren’t for your situation, why would I risk offending a powerful Mage Lord… and swallow my pride to propose a marriage alliance? To a high-level caster, a secular marriage is nothing but a burden. Not to mention, if they have children, their mana bloodline will be diluted, not only making it difficult to advance in rank but even risking a drop in rank.”

Diane blinked, her anger suddenly turning to delight. She said softly, “So when you gave up on ascending to the Legendary-rank to marry Great-grandmother and have Grandfather, it was because…”

A rare blush colored Ald’s old face. He cut her off, “Ascending to the Legendary-rank is extremely risky, with a success rate of less than one in a hundred. Compared to such a life-threatening gamble, cultivating a qualified heir to the kingdom is obviously a much greater return. Don’t forget… before being a Spellcaster, I am first and foremost the Prince Regent of Barkley!”

“Before you proposed the marriage, you tacitly allowed and condoned the Lord of the Northern Realm’s brazen invasion of our border and his move against that fellow Carlo… was that also to get closer to him and gain his trust?” Diane asked, confused. “Then why did you have me send him a letter, publicly rebuking him for his insolent invasion? Isn’t that a contradiction?”

“You still have much to learn about politics… I did that to distance you from the affair, to make him think that the whole thing was my own idea—the idea of the man pulling the strings behind the royal family. That way, even if we’re rejected, the only one who loses face is an old man like me. And considering we’re both members of the Forum… ahem, of the same secret organization of Spellcasters, he won’t be too offended.”

He explained at length, but seeing his great-granddaughter’s brow still furrowed in defiance, he spoke with great sorrow, “The fact that the Koffman family possesses the bloodline of the ancient High Elves is not some great secret among the royal families of the nations of the south. But of all people… it had to be you who experienced the bloodline atavism! If those old die-hards in the Golden Forest of the east, who’ve lived for hundreds of years, were to find out, you know what would become of you!”

Diane turned her head away stubbornly. “So what if they find out? Do the Elves of Laurien dare to invade a human kingdom? After the War of the Dragons, they were forced back to the Golden Forest by the combined might of the High Wizard Council and the human armies, scurrying back with their tails between their legs. Although the Federation is now on completely bad terms with the Church, the alliance between the nations of the south still exists.”

“Short-sighted! With the Federation allying with the Lord of the Northern Realm, the Church’s influence in the south is about to collapse. Without the Church to act as a counterbalance… the secular nobility of the various nations will no longer be able to profit by swaying between the wizards and the Holy See as they have for the past few hundred years. Of course, the Elven race won’t directly invade the nations of the south. But if those old geezers were to personally demand you be handed over, the Wizard Council and the Federation would weigh the pros and cons and would absolutely not side with Barkley. At that point, would I dare refuse to let you go?”

The bloodline of the ancient High Elves is exceedingly rare and precious. The Elven race, which has existed in the east’s Golden Forest for hundreds of years, has not seen a single royal member with an atavistic bloodline since the War of the Dragons. This has led to the Elven royal family, already struggling with procreation, to suffer from frequent internal strife and power shifts in recent decades. A descendant like Diane, who exhibits bloodline atavism, even with her despised mixed-blood status, is precious enough for Laurien to commit the full strength of their race to acquire her.

If it weren’t for Harvey, this suddenly rising Lord of the Northern Realm, Ald would have likely chosen to sacrifice his most beloved great-granddaughter, whom he had personally groomed as his sole heir, in exchange for the help and support of the High Wizard Council and the Elves. After all, he had no other choice.

“Although the Lord of the Northern Realm is a Spellcaster, he is also a young and promising King. If we can successfully form a marriage alliance between our two nations, with his influence in the Federation and among the nations of the south, he will definitely be able to protect you from the east’s encroachment. Moreover, given St. Valen’s current formidable strength… proactively submitting to them would also spare Barkley from the ravages of war.”

Diane shuddered. She stood up, slammed her hands on the desk, and said in disbelief, “You’re saying the Lord of the Northern Realm… the new King of St. Valen intends to wage war on the neighboring nations? What is he trying to do?”

“Hmph… Just you wait and see. This winter at the latest, his magical army, which is already eyeing them like a tiger stalking its prey, will make its move against the Alyrid Duchy and Isengard!”

Chapter 514: Late Autumn Splendor

In October, the south was still enjoying the pleasant golden autumn, but a cold, biting wind had already begun to blow quietly across the barren lands.

It seemed this year’s winter was arriving earlier than usual; the first heavy snow would likely fall by the end of the month.

“My lord, the people from the southern merchant guilds left one after another this morning after signing the cooperation agreement yesterday.” Rainer handed a document to Harvey for his review, muttering under his breath, “We’ve allocated half of the Shipping Company’s ironclad ships to them for transporting goods. We’ll be in a tight spot again next year when we need to transport the migrating population.”

Harvey waved his hand. “The shipyards have added two more work groups and are operating at full capacity. There won’t be many immigrants heading north during the winter, so we have enough time to wait for new ships to be launched.”

He casually flipped through the work report he’d been handed and asked, “By the way, have the final statistics for this year’s population growth in the Northern Realm been completed?”

“The General Municipal Office and the Population Management Department have finished the count. Excluding the previous stable population of fifty-four thousand, we’ve had over thirty-eight thousand immigrants from various parts of the south this year. Adding the several refugee tribes that have returned from the northern barren lands… Starfire City’s total population has reached the one hundred thousand mark!”

The number wasn’t far off from what Harvey had expected. These immigrants mostly came from the central and southern regions of the Duchy. They were the commoners most affected by the outbreak of the civil war. Furthermore, after Harvey took control of the situation in St. Valen, he had used a mix of persuasion and coercion to force the nobles to surrender their fiefs. Many tenant farmers, who had never owned land, lost their livelihoods. Encouraged by propaganda from the municipal departments in various regions, they voluntarily boarded ships bound for the Northern Realm.

And these fertile lands, now consolidated, would be used for large-scale mechanized farming in the coming year. Grain crop yields would be several times higher than what was produced by the crude manual farming of the past.

“Good. The food shortage has mostly been alleviated. Now, we need to focus on resolving the housing and living issues for these new immigrants, especially in preparation for the coming winter. The barren lands are nothing like the south. If any of these newly arrived people die from cold or hunger this winter, the City Hall’s reputation will be ruined.”

“Rest assured, my lord. The City Hall made preparations in advance at the end of summer,” Rainer replied confidently. “The Construction Department has set up four temporary housing areas outside the city. They’ve torn down all the old shacks and built two-story houses of cement and stone brick in their place. In total, there are over three thousand rooms, enough to accommodate more than twenty thousand people.”

After all, apart from the food shortage caused by rapid population growth, Starfire City had a relatively abundant supply of other self-produced daily necessities. Almost every new immigrant received a free set of thick clothing sufficient to ward off the wind and cold. The Relief Mess Halls in the reception areas would also provide a continuous daily supply of free wheat porridge. This was different from the charity charades put on by the Church and the nobles; the wheat porridge an the municipal Relief Mess Halls was thick enough to be filling, and not only was the portion size generous… on weekends and public holidays, salted meat was even added to the mix. It was effective relief in the truest sense.

Moreover, the territory’s lumberyard had stockpiled a large amount of charcoal, ensuring that even the reception areas without heating facilities would at least be supplied with enough charcoal for fires to stay warm during the winter.

In addition, several large worker communities built by the City Hall next to the city’s Industrial Park have been officially completed. Any new immigrant with temporary resident status has the opportunity to apply to the municipality for a low-rent welfare apartment after completing their probationary period and receiving a formal work contract.

The winters in the Northern Realm were long and cold. The people who had migrated thousands of kilometers from warmer regions were all filled with a mixture of apprehension and hope. As long as they were helped through their first winter after settling down, these people would naturally place their full trust in Starfire City and the City Hall under Harvey’s rule.

The prerequisite was that not a single person freezes, starves, or dies of illness this winter.

…

After discussing the important tasks that needed to be assigned with Rainer, Pierce timed his entrance perfectly, rushing into the office the moment Rainer left. There were simply too many officials reporting to Harvey, the City Lord, and seeking his orders each day. Sometimes, arriving just a little late meant being forced to wait at the end of the line for an entire day.

For this reason, Harvey had specially ordered an officials’ lounge to be set up next to the main hall on the castle’s first floor.

“My lord, here are the procedures and plans for the Winter Festival military parade, a joint effort by the General Staff Headquarters and the City Hall… Also, all logistical preparations for the military operation against Isengard are complete. The operational battalions assigned to this expedition are now just waiting for your official order!”

“What’s the hurry? Are they that eager to miss my coronation ceremony?” Harvey smiled as he opened the work report. “I won’t meddle too much with the military parade. You can all discuss and organize it yourselves… It’s just to boost the army’s morale and put on a show for the laymen, anyway.”

“But new recruit enrollment and daily training must not come to a complete halt. Without affecting combat missions, you must expand the army’s scale in a systematic manner!”

Pierce nodded repeatedly in agreement. “Rest assured, my lord. The Military Command will launch next year’s spring recruitment after the Winter Festival. You know, among the new immigrants who arrived this year, there are quite a few promising candidates for enlistment. The army’s generous salary and benefits are a huge draw for young people. The moment the recruitment office posts a notice, the doors will be mobbed.”

He paused, his voice tinged with irrepressible excitement. “By next spring, the total strength of the Northern Army will reach at least twelve thousand. In the entire south… this is already an unbeatable armed force!”

“That may be so, but our ultimate enemies are not just the knight-nobles, or even the Demons and vile orcs… Against those Demonic Lizardmen who have yet to bare their fangs, mere numbers won’t do the trick. I need them to be the elite of the elite!”

Pierce was taken aback for a moment. He understood Harvey was cautioning him against blind expansion, reminding him to pay attention to the quality of recruits and the army’s development. He quickly bowed and acknowledged the order.

Normally, the army’s recruitment and logistical preparations for war should be handled independently by its various internal logistics departments. However, both Pierce, as the Commander-in-Chief, and the high-ranking officers of the main combat battalions below him were practical, combat-oriented talent who had risen from low stations and had poor educational backgrounds. Leading troops into battle on the front lines was no problem for them… but when it came to logistics and administration, things became very difficult. They needed the cooperation of the City Hall, managed by Rainer, for funds and supplies, and the guidance of the General Staff Headquarters for strategic deployment.

The military structure Harvey had established on a whim was now gradually showing its flaws as the army grew to nearly ten thousand strong. Furthermore, as external conflicts became more frequent, most of the veterans from the earliest batch had been promoted into the officer class, making the original simple rank system obsolete.

Harvey felt it might be time for a new round of military system reform. Directly adopting the mature organizational framework he was familiar with from his previous life seemed very appropriate.

Chapter 515: The Eve of the Military Parade

Having finished a full day of busy work, Harvey pushed himself up from his chair with some difficulty. Just as he was about to stretch and head to the dining hall for dinner, there was another knock on his office door.

“Hm?” Harvey turned to his personal guard in confusion. The guard shrugged, indicating that all appointments for the day had concluded. Logically, there shouldn’t be any more important government affairs requiring his decision.

But the next moment, Ashe pushed the door open, a wide grin on his face.

Looks like I won’t be forced to work overtime… Harvey heaved a long sigh of relief and spoke to his friend in his usual teasing tone, “You rascal, didn’t you say you were rehearsing a new play for me? To give me as a gift on the day of my coronation ceremony?”

Ashe chuckled. “Actors are living, breathing people, not corpse puppets or your alchemical constructs. They need to get off work and rest, too!”

“Then what brings you here? On a normal day, I have to send my guards to specifically invite you for dinner, only to be refused because you’re ‘too busy.’ Why the sudden visit today?”

Ashe walked briskly to the desk and leaned on it, his expression full of anticipation. “I heard you’re planning to hold a military parade? And you’re going to demonstrate those terrifying magical weapons in public… what was it called? A magical exercise?”

“A live-fire exercise!” Harvey rolled his eyes, exasperated. “And it’s not exactly a public demonstration. I only plan to have the officials from Starfire City and the various city halls, along with the nobles from across the kingdom invited to the coronation ceremony, attend as observers. Essentially, I’m just giving them a little shock.”

“What I mean is… could the people of Starfire City also be allowed to come and watch? It would be even better to hold a weapons exhibition, so the public can actually touch those fearsome weapons of legend!” Ashe was clearly pleased with his own idea, his face alight with excitement. “If the people could witness such a spectacular and shocking live-fire exercise, their admiration and reverence for you would surely grow. They’d be filled with confidence in Starfire City’s future. Isn’t that the loyalty and sense of belonging you’re always talking to me about?”

Harvey burst out laughing. Assigning this unconventional fellow to the Ministry of Culture was truly a wise choice; he seemed to have a natural talent for propaganda.

Iron Head, the deputy leader of the personal guard standing in the office, was somewhat displeased. Although this man was His Majesty’s childhood friend, his attitude was far too casual and lacked the proper respect.

Seeing that His Majesty expressed no dissatisfaction but didn’t immediately agree either, he frowned and interjected, “How can the public participate in a military drill? They’ve never seen cannons firing or machine guns strafing. What if it frightens them? And a weapons exhibition is even more absurd. These are secrets of the Northern Army. How can they be casually displayed to ordinary people?”

Ashe tutted dismissively. “Don’t treat the people like fools, especially the people of Starfire City… Captain Iron Head, when your respected Majesty was chatting with me, he happened to mention the amusing story of the first time you used a magical weapon. You nearly had a misfire and wet your pants in fright!”

“Alright, alright. I can’t believe you’re bickering with my personal guard now. I give up.”

Ashe pouted and turned back to Harvey. “So, will you consider it? The location is set near the banks of the Icefield River anyway. We can completely seal off the exercise area and only allow the public to watch from the city walls. We can also station police to maintain order on the walls… Of course, the miles-long northern section of the wall can’t hold tens of thousands of people, so we can exclude the new immigrants who still hold temporary identification cards. It would also be best to screen out minors and the elderly. That way, we won’t have to worry about any trouble.”

Harvey nodded. It seemed Ashe hadn’t just come up with this on a whim; he had actually considered the specific implementation process and had likely even scouted the proposed exercise site and the city walls himself.

“It does sound good, but this isn’t a job your Ministry of Culture can handle alone. Go find Rainer and have City Hall cooperate with you… However, a weapons exhibition is not appropriate at the moment. We can discuss that issue again in the future.”

In truth, Harvey didn’t consider the weapons currently possessed by the Northern Army to be absolute secrets. Essentially, these weapons were mass-produced with the participation of ordinary citizens and the seamless coordination of alchemical beasts. Many workers in the munitions factories were well aware of the specific functions and power of these weapons.

The real problem was that the number and models of weapons available for public display were too few—two types of heavy cannons, one portable cannon, three different models of Magical Energy Guns, and the Magical Energy Machine Gun… at most, you could add the military’s ironclad ships and combat airships. It was hardly an extensive arsenal.

…

The moment he stepped off the train, Balun hurriedly bid Ross farewell. “Sorry! Mr. Ross, I have to go. I’m meeting a friend for dinner!”

Watching the half-orc dash away, Ross couldn’t help but mutter to himself, “He has someone to meet?”

He then recalled the letters that arrived for Balun like clockwork almost every week back at the Eastern Expansion base. He had occasionally glimpsed the elegant and neat handwriting on them—they were from a lady, one who was clearly well-educated.

The culture of the Northern Realm was indeed liberal and open. It seemed that as long as you obtained an identification card symbolizing local residency, you would be treated equally without discrimination, regardless of whether you were a half-orc, a southerner, or a barren lander. There were no restrictions on joining the army, entering politics, or marrying.

Ross walked slowly out of the Central Station, lost in thought. He didn’t have a place to stay in Starfire City. When he had first followed Harvey from Fengyuan City to the Northern Realm, he had been put up in a temporary reception hotel. Later, when he volunteered for the Eastern Expansion, his original accommodation was naturally no longer reserved for him.

Of course, he had no need to find another hotel now. The six-month period he had agreed upon with the City Lord was up. He had fulfilled his promise to work diligently alongside the common people, to go deep among them and experience firsthand the meaning of creating a better life with his own two hands.

Gazing at the Lord’s Castle in the distance, Ross lamented silently in his heart, My lord City Lord… Your future Majesty, I now understand why the Northern Realm is so prosperous, why everyone can eat their fill and dress warmly, and live a life filled with hope for the future…

His next step was to go to City Hall, hand in and cancel the identification card the City Lord had specially approved for him. Then, he would return to his true home, Fengyuan City, and use everything he had learned in the Northern Realm to realize his own ideals and ambitions.

As he passed by City Hall Square, Ross noticed a large crowd gathered around a huge bulletin board. Even the cold, icy wind blowing today didn’t seem to affect the fervent atmosphere of discussion among the onlookers in the slightest.

Curiosity drove him to unconsciously draw closer. He saw that it was the same group of young students who often appeared here. One of them was standing on a wooden box, proclaiming loudly, “Our respected City Lord, His future Majesty the King, will be holding a grand military parade during this year’s Winter Festival! At that time, the Northern Army will conduct a public live-fire exercise, and the people are permitted to attend as spectators, right there on the northern city wall…”

“You just need to provide a local resident identification card and be sixteen years of age or older to sign up! We don’t recommend the elderly with weak legs to join the crowd—be careful the sky-shaking cannon fire doesn’t knock you out on the spot!”

“You’ll be able to witness with your own eyes the Northern Army’s newest legendary magical weapons! The ones that can blast a terrifying demonic beast the size of a hill to smithereens! The ones that ensured even the Church’s most elite Army of Judgment knightly order could not escape total annihilation!”

“Don’t miss this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! This is the only way to admire the heroic combat prowess of the Northern Army up close! They are His Majesty’s army, our very own people’s army!”

Ross listened silently for a moment, then couldn’t help but pull out the identification card from his coat and clutch it tightly. It seemed he would find a hotel to stay in for a few days first and wait until after the Winter Festival to turn in his card at City Hall.

Chapter 516: Absolute Truth

The end of the month came quickly, and just before the first snow of winter, the much-anticipated Winter Festival that had the entire city buzzing with excitement finally kicked off.

During the three-day festival, aside from the park fairs and shooting competitions which remained staples, the several theatrical performances and civilian rugby matches organized by the Ministry of Culture were also widely popular. Ashe’s meticulously trained actors and the rugby players, who came from commoner backgrounds, instantly became “stars” in Starfire City, their status comparable to that of military combat heroes. Wherever they went, a crowd of admirers would surround them.

On the final day of the festival, the military parade and the live-fire exercise were fully prepared, ready to begin with great fanfare.

When Harvey arrived at the parade grounds by the riverbank, he looked up to find the nearby city walls already packed with spectators. The towering walls, stretching for several kilometers, were swarming with people—an estimated six or seven thousand. The rest, those who hadn’t secured a high vantage point on the walls, had left before dawn on their Bicycles to reach the Garrison Corps area on the opposite side of the Icefield River, determined to watch the magnificent spectacle from afar, even from across the water.

The cold wind that had been blowing all day yesterday had cooperatively died down as noon approached. In the middle of the river, dozens of huge buoy targets had been set up early on. They were about to become the most important hypothetical enemies in the exercise, destined to endure a baptism by a storm of cannon fire.

According to the plan, the interiors of these buoy targets had been filled with a large amount of alchemical explosives mixed with Dragon’s Flame powder. Many alchemical explosives had also been buried along the river’s shallow banks to enhance the spectacle of the artillery volley.

As Starfire City’s supreme ruler, Harvey naturally couldn’t be squeezed among the commoners on the city wall. A row of spectator stands of varying heights had been built on the riverbank nearest the wall before the festival. While the City Lord himself occupied the highest, central, canopied stand, numerous slightly lower stands were arranged to accommodate the officials and nobles who had come from all over the south for the coronation ceremony.

“Your Majesty, the entire Northern Army is in position, awaiting your order to officially begin the military parade!” Pierce, dressed in a brand-new commander’s uniform, rested one hand on the side sword at his waist as he knelt on one knee before Harvey.

Harvey nodded and said calmly, “Begin.”

A personal guard immediately went to the alchemical communicator and gave the order in a loud voice: “By order of His Majesty! Begin the military parade! Fire the salute!”

Half a minute later, twelve deafening, synchronized cannon blasts erupted, echoing across the Icefield River, startling birds in the distant mountains and dense forests into flight. All the nobles and officials, who had been whispering amongst themselves, fell silent. They sat up straight and looked at the soldiers assembled in formation below the stands.

Guided by the sharp blast of an officer’s whistle, the Northern Army’s ace First Battalion marched in perfect step toward the spectator stands. As they passed by the city wall, they drew loud and enthusiastic cheers from the crowd above—these soldiers were veterans who had been among the first to join the pioneer territories. Although many of them had not been promoted to officer positions due to their level of education, more or less all of them wore military merit medals from some battle or held the esteemed title of combat hero.

Next, the main combat Second and Third Battalions marched in formation along the wall. The cheers and applause from the people came in wave after wave, continuing for a long time without cease. Each time a combat unit passed Harvey’s high platform, guided by an officer’s hand signal, the soldiers would turn in unison, raise their heads, and strike their chests with a clenched fist—saluting Harvey with the unique military gesture of the Northern Realm.

“Long live Your Majesty! Long live the Northern Realm! Long live the people!”

“Victory to the Northern Army!”

Harvey couldn’t help but feel a surge of emotion. He stood and waved to the soldiers below, whose ardent gazes were fixed upon him. This sent the crowd on the city walls into an even greater frenzy. It even brought tears to the eyes of many soldiers in the ranks, who began to shout hoarsely toward Harvey.

Excluding the Defense Force, which had to remain at their posts across the various territories, the total number of troops participating in the military parade was just over five thousand. After they had all marched in formation and been reviewed by Harvey and the people, it was time for the main event—the live-fire exercise.

Once all personnel for the exercise were in position, Harvey stepped up to an alchemical amplifier and announced loudly, “I declare the live-fire exercise has officially begun!”

A bird call, much sharper than a normal whistle, suddenly rang out. This was the first command, signaling all units to get in position and prepare to fire.

The twenty Magical-Powered Cannons, set up right at the base of the city wall, all raised their barrels. The gunners frantically turned the winches on the bases, aiming the muzzles directly at the giant targets in the middle of the river channel, eight hundred meters away. This was the firing distance the artillerymen were most familiar with, both in training and in actual combat. Even without relying on the sighting scale, it was nearly impossible for them to miss based on visual estimation and experience alone.

Lynx, the Artillery Battalion commander, stood at his command post and rubbed his hands together. He habitually held up a thumb, squinting to aim at the distant target, then ordered several cannons on the flanks to make slight adjustments to their angle. Only then did he nod to his subordinates and say, “Everyone, look sharp! And keep your movements precise. This isn’t your daily training. Besides His Majesty and those officials, the entire city is watching!”

A rookie gunner closest to him whispered, “Chief, I’m a little nervous… I just saw my mom on the city wall.”

“I’m nervous too… I’ve never had this many people watching me. His Majesty is watching from the high platform too. I think I’m gonna piss myself…”

“If we miss, we’ll never be able to hold our heads high again, right? I’m afraid people will laugh at us whenever we walk through the city.”

Lynx’s face hardened as he snapped, “All of you, shut up! Enough nonsense! If you have to piss, then piss while you slam that shell right into the center of the target!”

As he spoke, a yellow flag was raised on the high platform. Lynx immediately shouted, “Begin loading!”

The gunners immediately fell silent, completing the regulation movements they had repeated countless times in the past almost subconsciously. When the yellow flag on the high platform was replaced in a flash by a red one, the commander’s low countdown echoed from the amplifier.

“Ready to fire! Five… four… three…”

“Two… one! Fire!”

The instant Lynx swung his arm, the twenty Magical-Powered Cannons roared as one. Blazing white mana light, accompanied by thick smoke from the fiercely burning Dragon’s Flame powder, shot out from the muzzles! Just as the crowd on the city walls heard the deafening boom, towering columns of water from explosions, along with mud and dust, were already erupting from the river channel and its banks eight hundred meters away.

Before the smoke and mist had completely dissipated, Lynx squinted and stood on his toes to get a better view. “Did they all hit?”

No one answered him. There was only a few seconds of silence from the city wall above, followed by an eruption of frenzied cheers and shouts.

The dozens of fixed buoy targets in the middle of the river channel were now completely gone… leaving only a large amount of debris to be swept downstream by the current.

Chapter 517: The Total Coverage Firepower Matrix

According to the pre-arranged exercise plan, the volley from the twenty Magical-Powered Cannons was merely the appetizer for the opening ceremony.

Next, an ironclad ship slowly towed a massive, heavy, three-masted, wide-bodied wooden sailing ship to the center of the river. This was a “decommissioned model” that the Military Command had purchased from the Grizzly Keep branch of the Dragonstone Merchant Guild. With civilian ironclad ships serving as new transport vessels, the Dragonstone Merchant Guild had long been eager to get rid of the decade-old sailing ships on the cheap.

It was obvious this retired sailing behemoth was serving as a realistic target for the live-fire exercise. Before long, its fate would be the same as those giant buoys.

The ironclad ships, already lined up neatly at the military dock, all turned their bow-mounted cannons. A single volley from the six massive Magical Energy Naval Cannons instantly blasted the wooden vessel to smithereens. Furthermore, large barrels of Dragon’s Flame powder had been placed inside the ship beforehand. When they detonated, flames mixed with thick smoke shot into the sky, creating a heaven-shaking, earth-shattering spectacle.

Next came the free-fire period for the two types of heavy cannons. As the Dragon’s Flame and alchemical explosives buried along the riverbank tidal flats were successively hit and detonated by the cannon fire, the continuous roar of the twenty Magical-Powered Cannons, interspersed with the booms of the Magical Energy Naval Cannons, pushed the atmosphere of the exercise to a climax. The smoke, dust, and water splashed up by the explosions were relentless. The impact zone, an area about five hundred meters in radius, was blown into a cratered mess. Even the common folk standing high on the city walls could faintly feel the slight tremors beneath their feet.

The officials and nobles in the temporary spectator stands outside the city turned pale and shrunk into their collars. Cold sweat soaked their backs as they shifted restlessly in their seats. If not for the intimidating presence of the future King, many of them would have likely fled their seats immediately.

Pierce stood beside Harvey like a javelin, doing his utmost to maintain a cold and resolute expression, but inside, his heart was surging. Pride mixed with more complex emotions, causing him to clench his fists secretly. He couldn’t help but steal a sideways glance at Harvey, who was seated calmly in his high-backed chair.

“What is it? Reminiscing about the first time you led troops into battle?” Harvey sensed his subordinate’s intense gaze and tilted his head with a light chuckle.

Pierce was stunned for a moment, then answered subconsciously, “I was remembering the first time I met you. I couldn’t read and accidentally trespassed on your manor in Jackdaw Town. A Wolf Spider Beast pierced my leg…”

Hearing this, Rainer, who stood nearby, couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.

…

Unlike the composed Harvey on the high platform and the flock of officials and nobles who were like startled birds, Head Priest Garrett’s mood was distinctly different. As a Secret Intercessor personally appointed by the Pope, although he had never studied any extraordinary divine arts, his observational skills were far beyond those of an ordinary person.

The old priest never imagined Harvey would take the initiative to invite him to attend this strange military parade and live-fire exercise. In the past, he had heard that the royal families of the nations of the south or the feudal lords would often hold public martial tournaments. These usually involved recruiting knights or martial artists for one-on-one duels to select the most valiant warrior and ennoble them as “Chief.” But the main purpose was to provide some entertainment for the nobles while also showing off the lord’s military might to their vassals and the local populace.

But these earth-shaking, thunderously booming magical weapons were clearly different from the wooden lances and blunt swords in the hands of knights and martial artists.

From nearly a thousand meters away, with simple operation by ordinary mortal soldiers, they could blast a target to smithereens in an instant. There was no need for direct engagement, no brutal scenes of hand-to-hand combat with flying flesh and blood.

When the free-fire portion began, Garrett could finally sit still no longer. He unconsciously stood up, leaning forward slightly, desperately trying to get a clearer view of the weapons.

Such a short interval between firings… enabling continuous, sustained attack… He even watched with his own eyes as a phantom projectile, fired from a cannon’s muzzle, deviated slightly from its intended target due to its angle, nearly landing directly on the far bank of the Icefield River!

The maximum attack range of these magical weapons wasn’t just limited to a thousand meters—they could hit targets even farther away!

He subconsciously turned his head to look at Harvey, seated on the central high platform. A chilling thought surfaced in his mind—this Mage Lord entrenched in the Northern Realm was no pawn secretly cultivated by the Federation to sow discord among the secular kingdoms and the Church. The truth was likely the complete opposite of what they had imagined. It was this upstart Lord of the Northern Realm who was secretly propping up the Federation!

The Federation’s “Gun of Annihilation,” the “superweapon” they had deployed to the demon battlefield in the Evil Moon Mountain Range to completely turn the tide of the war, must have actually been given to them by the Lord of the Northern Realm. And his own domain possessed even more trump cards with power far exceeding the “Gun of Annihilation”!

As his thoughts churned in turmoil, he saw the Alchemical construct named Astaren walk slowly toward him. Seeming to see his thoughts at a glance, Astaren said quietly, “The maximum range of the magical energy cannons is not limited to a thousand meters. This isn’t really some great secret. His Majesty only had the targets set up a bit closer to satisfy the audience. After all, any farther and it would lose its entertainment value.”

The old priest swallowed hard and asked in a hoarse voice, “These were built by you… to deal with the non-human race enemies from the continental heartland, correct?”

Astaren gave a light chuckle and said indifferently, “An enemy is an enemy. Unwilling nobles, the Church that always stirs up trouble for us in the shadows, Demons, vile orcs, Demonic Lizardmen… His Majesty believes that before guns and cannons, all who stand against us are equal.”

Garrett gritted his teeth, then suddenly sounded somewhat deflated. “For a war of annihilation between two races, a matter of life and death, the few magical weapons His Majesty Harvey has on display here are far from enough. This is something that requires the full strength of an entire race to contend with…”

“What do you know?” Astaren’s tone became contemptuous. “Far from enough? Do you have any idea how many mortals and alchemical beasts work day and night without rest in Starfire City’s munitions factories? Do you know how many supporting industries throughout St. Valen and the Northern Realm provide us with a constant stream of raw materials? The production of these epoch-making weapons is a vast, independent system, with over one hundred thousand people undertaking their respective tasks and responsibilities. How could you be so naive as to think this is all we can bring to bear against our enemies?”

The old priest was silent for a moment before looking up directly at Astaren. “To reveal so many secrets to me without His Majesty’s permission, are you not worried about being punished afterward?”

“These are His Majesty’s own words. I am merely the mouthpiece responsible for relaying them…” Astaren gave a very human-like shrug, then leaned close to Garrett’s ear and whispered, “His Majesty also said…”

“You both maintain your rule by gathering and commanding the people… but you use ethereal gods and faith, while we use… hope and ideals.”

Chapter 518: Hope and Ideals

Watching the thousands of Northern Army soldiers in their neat formations below the city wall, Ross Ralph found it hard to believe his eyes.

He too was a knight from a prominent noble family and had undergone orthodox, rigorous knightly training since the age of six. He knew very well how difficult it was, even for the Duchy’s most elite Capital’s Knightly Order, to form dozens of hundred-man formations and maintain absolute discipline while on the march.

Knight formations required exquisite horsemanship, whereas common soldiers had to rely on the constant orders shouted by their commanders—but this was only for the simplest attack and retreat maneuvers in actual combat. Once it involved complex tactical changes like flanking and encirclement, it was beyond the capabilities of ordinary soldiers who came from common, mud-legs stock.

The soldiers before him were not clad in bright, new armor and helmets. Instead, they wore deep black military uniforms of a completely standardized color and style. A strap slung diagonally across their chests held a long, standard-issue weapon on their backs, and a short military saber was holstered at their right hip… Their uniform attire, uniform weapons, and even their seemingly identical solemn expressions made the military formations look like a single, solid sheet of iron.

This direct visual impact struck Ross with an unparalleled sense of power. He knew with certainty that these soldiers, being reviewed one after another, were true elites who had been baptized by the cruel flames of battle… except this cruelty was what they had personally brought upon their enemies.

The common people watching from the city wall were equally enthusiastic.

“It’s the First Battalion! Look! My brother is a soldier in the First Battalion! Fourth row of the second formation!”

“Good heavens! They’re as orderly as the alchemical beasts in the factories! As expected of His Majesty the City Lord’s elite troops!”

“With such a powerful army protecting our home, the Church, the nobles, and the vile orcs will all be beaten so badly they piss themselves in fear!”

“Heh, just the other day, the ironclad ships set sail to wipe out the vile orcs. The Master Mages from the Academy of Sciences went with them and brought back a lot of corpses…”

“I can’t wait for His Majesty’s coronation ceremony! To celebrate, I’m going to take out that bottle of fine wine I’ve been saving and drink it all!”

“Eh? Didn’t your son join the Navy? Why don’t I see him in the ranks?”

“Er… he told me he’s in the water, so I probably can’t see him…”

…

As the live-fire exercise gradually came to an end, Ross turned to leave the crowded area when a familiar voice suddenly called out from nearby, “Mr. Ross! Have you also come to watch the military parade?”

He turned his head to see Balun smiling and waving at him. Standing beside the stocky and muscular half-orc was a beautiful and gentle-looking young lady, who also offered Ross a reserved smile.

“This is Natalie… uh… my… uh…” Balun suddenly stammered.

Miss Mills cut him off, extending a hand to Ross. “Natalie Mills, Balun’s fiancée. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ross.”

A lady from at least a middle-class family… Ross shook her hand with a calm expression. “I’ve heard Balun mention you countless times. During the arduous work at the Eastern Expansion base, the thing he looked forward to most was the letter that arrived from the city every week.”

Balun scratched his head, a little embarrassed. “I heard from my colleagues that you quietly quit your job at the base. Are you planning to come back to the city to find something new? The Eastern Expansion base is certainly very tough…”

Ross smiled but didn’t explain much. Instead, he asked, “What about you? You’ll be getting officially married soon after the engagement. You can’t let Miss Mills suffer with you at the Eastern Expansion base, can you?”

But Miss Mills smiled radiantly and explained, “It was my suggestion that he resign from his job at the theater and go to the Eastern Expansion base to answer His Majesty’s call…”

It wasn’t that being a theater actor wasn’t glamorous enough, but that a work history at the Eastern Expansion base would clearly add more weight to his resume. Once his one-year contract ended, with a personal recommendation from His Excellency Ashe, the Minister of Culture, Balun could smoothly enter a municipal department and start as a low-level Administrative Official, returning to the construction and management work he excelled at.

Only someone like Natalie Mills, who came from a wealthy family and had received a higher education, could keenly perceive the future direction and potential of the Northern Realm. She clearly understood that only by boarding the great, power-laden ocean liner that was City Hall could one truly be considered to have a great future.

Ross looked at the young couple with a sense of欣慰 and envy, suddenly feeling that they looked exceptionally well-matched.

“And you, Mr. Ross? City Hall is expanding its recruitment after the spring. Your literacy and writing skills are much better than mine; you should try to apply for a position like I did.”

Ross smiled and shook his head, then turned to gaze at the scene below the city wall. “I want to join the army…”

…

A cold wind swept across the riverbank, carrying the distinctive metallic smell of burnt Dragon’s Flame powder.

Chris took a deep, intoxicated breath, then nudged his colleague Benoit beside him. “Well? Do you finally get it now? What is alchemy? This is alchemy!”

He said to Benoit, deeply aggrieved, “Soul forging is just to provide us with sturdy bodies and long lives, but what is its fundamental purpose? It’s so we can have more time to conduct research!”

Ever since taking over the magical energy weapon research and development project assigned by Harvey, Chris’s entire focus and energy had been diverted from soul forging. He had fallen into a deep obsession with magical energy weapons. Harvey’s occasional quip, “Art is an explosion,” had automatically been converted in his mind to “Alchemy is an explosion.”

After receiving the supreme knowledge of the three-form conversion of mana from Harvey, Chris had realized the exquisite potential for fusion between magical energy weapons and soul forging. He firmly believed that there would be weapons even more powerful and with a longer range than the Magical Energy Gun and the magical energy heavy cannons, and he tirelessly pursued research in the direction Harvey had proposed.

Benoit, as one of the newer members, was originally just an ordinary high-rank Alchemist on the Spellcaster Forum. His mindset was far from Chris’s fanatical and forward-thinking one. After personally witnessing Harvey use soul technology to save his dying teacher, Duncan, he had vowed to delve deep into the domain of the soul, hoping to one day surpass the Alchemical Exploration Society and become a true master alchemist capable of performing divine miracles of creation.

In Chris’s view, Benoit’s conservative mindset was a classic case of putting the cart before the horse.

Fortunately, today’s awe-inspiring military parade had finally caused his colleague’s convictions to waver slightly. Holed up in the Alchemy Laboratory all day, he had no idea what kind of shocking power the weapons he personally created would unleash once they were mass-produced and delivered into the hands of soldiers.

Seeing him lost in thought, Chris decided to strike while the iron was hot. He leaned in and whispered in Benoit’s ear, “Do you know what the ultimate achievement of research into magical energy applications will be?”

“Advancement to Legendary? No… can it be the rumored transcendence of one’s own level of existence?” Benoit shook his head with a bitter smile. “Alchemists are not orthodox Spellcasters. High-rank is the absolute limit we can reach.”

Chris suddenly gripped Benoit’s sleeve tightly, a hint of madness in his eyes. “My lord Harvey told me this himself. You have to keep it a secret!”

“The ultimate goal of magical energy alchemy… We… we can create a new sun!”

Chapter 519: The Beacons of War are Lit

“Earth’s Favored” Ald Koffman waited a full half-month before he received Harvey’s official reply on the Spellcaster Forum.

As expected, the letter tactfully rejected the political marriage Koffman had proposed. The excuse was also just as Koffman had anticipated—the other party used the noble-sounding reason that as a spellcaster, he must pursue the truth and devote himself wholeheartedly to the path of magic.

Fortunately, despite the rejection, the tone of Harvey’s reply showed no signs of disgust or anger. He still accepted the olive branch Koffman had proactively extended. At least for a short time, they could achieve a basic level of cooperation in dealing with their great enemies, the Church and the non-human races.

“What a pity, what a pity… A political marriage was never about personal feelings. This was an excellent opportunity. I’ve heard that the nobles of the Duchy of St. Valen will no longer have the right to be enfeoffed with command over armies. If we could bind ourselves tightly to Mr. Kel’Thuzad, this despotic king of unfathomable strength and heavy-handed methods would become the sole, supreme noble in all of St. Valen… The Barkley royal family would have benefited greatly from such an alliance.”

Daina, however, was quite pleased by this and teased with a smile, “My dear Great-grandfather, it seems neither of the two marriage candidates you’ve chosen for me have been very suitable… from that former Grand Duke of St. Valen who died a sudden death, to this mysterious King of the North now.”

“No, the two of them are fundamentally different!”

“What’s the difference? Just a former ruler who was forced to die and abdicate, and a new king who just took power…”

Ald shook his head, stood up, and walked to the window. “The former Grand Duke couldn’t escape the Holy See’s control and struggled between the two powers to maintain his tottering rule, ultimately ending up where he is now. This is a clear demonstration of being shortsighted and possessing courage without strategy… But this new king from the north, heh… have you ever heard of him failing?”

Looking back at all the methods he had used to quietly develop and accumulate power in the Northern Realm over the years, and the force of a thunderbolt with which he suddenly swept across the entirety of St. Valen… these were not feats a commoner spellcaster, who hadn’t even come from an ordinary noble family, could achieve. Could all this also be the result of the Forum’s secret support?

“Regardless, we must not let our relationship with the Duchy of St. Valen turn hostile. Since a political marriage cannot move him, then we will cooperate fully with all his actions… Resources, land, wealth, and population—among these derivatives of power, there must be something of equivalent value for exchange. Let’s see what truly piques his interest.”

The young Queen Koffman frowned, somewhat puzzled. “Great-grandfather, why are you so in awe of that Lord of the Northern Realm? Is it merely because of the elite army and magical weapons he commands? Or is it because the Federation allied with him is applying pressure from behind the scenes?”

In the central part of the south, the Barkley Duchy was not considered a weak secular nation. Although it had not officially sided with either the Federation or the Holy See, it still held a permanent seat in the high council of the seven wizard kingdoms, and its domain was rich in mineral resources… The Maple Leaf Knights under Daina’s command were also exceptionally skilled in combat; they were not entirely without the strength to fight.

“You don’t understand. The power Harvey Floyd wields himself, and the mysterious existence behind him… are not things we can easily contend with. Perhaps, before long…”

Before Ald could finish, the carved crystal glass window was suddenly blown open by a gentle breeze. A phantom of gray-green light shot into the room like a bolt of lightning, then abruptly spread its wings to reveal its form.

It was an Owl Spirit that Ald had tamed. It could travel between the physical world and the Plane of the Magic Net faster than a Spell Messenger, delivering letters and messages more covertly and swiftly.

Ald took the letter from the Owl Spirit’s talons, unfolded it, and couldn’t help but let out a long sigh.

“Just yesterday, Wolf Fang Ridge, the fortified border city of Isengard, was breached by the King of the North’s army…”

…

Wayne strode hastily into the main keep of Wolf Fang Ridge, followed by a group of officers. He frowned at the sight of the hall in utter chaos.

“The ammunition reserves carried by logistics are limited. Is this how those fellows in the Cannon Squad waste them? Pouring precious shells recklessly onto an enemy keep that has no strategic value!”

Dav also clicked his tongue in displeasure. “The Cannon Squad set up their artillery position halfway up the side peak. It was probably their first time operating the Portable Cannons, so they couldn’t get a fix on the impact point and blast radius… Besides, our soldiers were engaged in fierce combat with the Defense Army near the city gate at the time. They were probably afraid of friendly fire.”

Wayne nudged a mountain-like pile of swords and spears on the floor with his foot and said helplessly, “Send a messenger to warn the Cannon Squad’s Captain. This campaign is on a tight schedule. No matter how many enemy strongholds we capture, we won’t get any supplies from them… Every single bullet needs to be carefully calculated!”

Because of the Northern Army’s unique weaponry and equipment, they had no way of “funding war with war” by replenishing their supplies with spoils from each victory. On a cross-border expedition, the longer the battle line stretched and the longer the war lasted, the more difficult resupply would become. A single misstep in coordination could turn them into an “isolated force” with no ammunition or food.

Tommy, the accompanying staff officer, offered some reassurance. “There’s no need to worry too much and let it affect the pace of our offensive… His Majesty said that if a critical supply shortage occurs, we can always set up a long-range teleportation array on the spot and receive supplies directly from Starfire City. As for when we reach the pass in the Spine of the Gods Mountains, we can just arrange for Airships to deliver a second set of teleportation equipment…”

Wayne immediately felt a bit embarrassed and snorted coldly. “Wouldn’t something like that be the same as mission failure? His Majesty entrusted such a critical military task to me. How could I be forced to ask the main base for help halfway through? It’s disgraceful!”

He pulled a document stamped with a bright red, top-secret sigil from his coat and sneered, “The Intelligence Department just delivered an important message. We might have a way to find a new supply channel after entering Isengard’s territory, without using the only set of teleportation array equipment we’re carrying!”

That mysterious Deputy Chief of Intelligence, the secret police with the handle 003… was rumored to have infiltrated Isengard under a disguised identity months ago. Furthermore, just as the General Staff Headquarters had finalized the plan for this military operation, he had already contacted a secret spellcaster organization within the country. And this clandestine group, hidden within Isengard, just happened to control a continental teleportation array that could serve as a substitute for the long-range teleportation function!

Wayne carefully unfolded the intelligence document. After a quick scan, he couldn’t help but frown—the name of this secret spellcaster organization they had just recently made contact with was really quite strange…

“The Stoneheart Hermits? That doesn’t sound like a proper spellcaster organization, does it?” Dav leaned over and muttered.

But on second thought, it made sense. A deeply religious country like Isengard, where faith in the Church was strong, openly boycotted and expelled spellcasters. It was also a major region frequented by the witch hunters of the Holy See’s Divine Punishment Faction. Any spellcasters in the country probably wouldn’t dare reveal their identities easily. These few mages, huddling together for warmth, were bound to form secret societies and operate in the shadows.

“Their society is based in Glenmore Highland City, which isn’t far from the border. Although it’s not on our main line of attack, it’s completely worth taking it down in one fell swoop and turning it into a midway supply hub!”

Chapter 520: A Powerful Lure

Guerrero, Commander of the Highland City cavalry, strode down the steps from the city wall, listening to a report from one of his personal guards as he made his way to the cavalry barracks.

“Has the adjutant sent to Wolf Fang Ridge not yet returned? To suddenly order the border sealed, and during winter when supplies everywhere are most scarce—it’s utter nonsense!”

The Captain of the personal guard bowed and replied, “This autumn, the Earl of Wolf Fang couldn’t restrain his greed and dispatched a cavalry unit disguised as bandits to cross into Da’ers territory. They raided several border towns but were caught red-handed by a Da’ers Mage Corps on patrol. The Earl’s second son was defeated and captured. I suspect that’s why the Earl of Wolf Fang suddenly sealed the border—to be on high alert and prevent any Mage assassins from the wizard kingdom from sneaking across.”

Guerrero clicked his tongue, his expression one of disgust. “I heard that when they sent his youngest son back, his tongue had been cut out and his eyes blinded. Those god-blaspheming wizards are truly ruthless…”

Although there was a reason, if the border remained closed, the trade of most of the southern merchant guilds would be affected. Isengard was located in the northeastern part of the south, and its lands were mostly grasslands and desert. Aside from the abundant gold deposits in the Spine of the Continent Mountains, the nation’s survival depended primarily on animal husbandry. Essential goods like grain and cloth were all imported at high prices from abroad. Highland City was a vital transit hub for the nation’s commerce, and most of its citizens and nobles were involved in trade.

“However… although our men haven’t sent word back, one merchant guild has successfully navigated the situation and crossed the border from Wolf Fang Ridge. We could summon their people and ask them about the situation over there.”

Guerrero nodded and said casually, “Go and bring the person in charge of that merchant guild here. Don’t delay… We must urge Wolf Fang Ridge to reopen the pass and let the caravans through before the first snow falls!”

…

“Good afternoon, esteemed Commander Guerrero.”

“You are…” Guerrero looked at the thin, white-haired old man before him. He felt that this man was very different from the slick merchants he usually dealt with. His every move suggested the grace of a noble’s private tutor.

“Randy Hughes. Please, just call me Old Hughes. I am the director of the Stoneheart Merchant Guild’s outpost in Isengard… Heh, speaking of which, Glenmore is the home where I was born and raised!”

“Oh? You’re a local of Glenmore?” Guerrero raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never seen you in Highland City before.”

Old Hughes lowered his head and smiled humbly. “I’ve only recently returned to my home. The guild leader felt I was getting old and no longer suited to leading caravans on long journeys, so he appointed me to take over the outpost here in my hometown. You could say I’m semi-retired.”

With that, he took out a money pouch embroidered with exquisite silk thread from his coat and presented it to Guerrero with both hands in a fawning manner. “I hear that the City Lord, Earl Isaac, is on patrol in the Holy City of Goris all year round… From now on, the Stoneheart Merchant Guild will be relying entirely on your lordship’s care in Highland City!”

Guerrero weighed the pouch in his hand. He flicked open the clasp with his fingertip and was pleased to see seven or eight smooth, brilliant gemstone ores inside. He nodded in satisfaction. “You’re too kind, Mr. Hughes. As a vital transit hub for our nation’s commerce, Highland City welcomes all law-abiding merchant guilds. If you encounter any difficulties in the future, don’t hesitate to mention them… Even if you need cavalry to escort your caravans, it is our duty.”

Of course, the money presented to the cavalry commander was one thing; hiring cavalry to escort a caravan was another price entirely.

Old Hughes clasped his hands inside his sleeves, a look of delight on his face. “That’s wonderful! A large caravan from the Stoneheart Merchant Guild has just crossed the border from Wolf Fang Ridge. They should arrive at Highland City by tomorrow night at the earliest. When the time comes, I’ll have to ask you, my lord, to inform the gate guards to let them in as soon as possible…”

“A large caravan crossing the border in winter?” A thought struck Guerrero, and he quickly asked, “The Earl of Wolf Fang has sealed the pass. How did you manage to get through? What essential goods are you transporting?”

Old Hughes smiled and replied with a sincere expression, “Naturally, it’s the grain, cotton, and spices that are in short supply in the country…”

Then, he cautiously leaned closer to Guerrero’s ear and added in a low voice, “And the same things you’re holding in your hand… raw gemstone ores.”

Raw gemstone ores? The Stoneheart Merchant Guild trades with the Dwarves of the Breath of the Hills? This is smuggling, a violation of the pact between the nations of the south! These merchants, who see nothing but money, are truly audacious!

Since the goods were smuggled, if some accident were to happen along the way, like being robbed by bandits… no one could be blamed.

A wide smile spread across Guerrero’s face as he shot a meaningful glance at the Captain of the personal guard beside him. The subordinate immediately understood, and a savage grin appeared on his face as he turned and left. Having just accepted a hefty bribe from the man, it would be improper to turn on him to his face, but that didn’t stop Guerrero from ordering his cavalry to leave the city at once, intercept this caravan heading for Highland City, and naturally, seize the priceless gemstone ores for himself!

Of course, a major merchant guild capable of long-distance trade across the nations of the south would naturally have many caravan mercenaries and warrior bodyguards in its employ, including even extraordinary Spellcasters and Bloodline Warriors. To deal with them, a few private soldiers wouldn’t be enough; he would need to dispatch a full-fledged unit of elite cavalry.

Thus, upon receiving Guerrero’s signal, the Captain of the personal guard rushed to the cavalry regiment’s barracks. Without hesitation, he dispatched half of their forces, taking advantage of the fierce dust storm that had suddenly kicked up at dusk… and rode out of the city in a great clamor.

The winters on the Glenmore grasslands were often accompanied by periodic dust storms. Such dark and windy winter nights were the perfect time for murder and robbery. It wasn’t the first time they had done something like this over the years; they were well-practiced.

…

“Our inside man in Highland City… he really managed to lure the city guard cavalry out?” Dav said with a look of disbelief. “Doesn’t that mean Highland City is completely defenseless right now? What are we waiting for…?”

Wayne, a cigarette dangling from his lips, used it to light the secret message in his hand. He chuckled sinisterly. “What’s the hurry? First, we’ll devour this elite cavalry unit that came out to plunder. Then, in the dead of night, we’ll disguise ourselves as them and trick our way through the city gates… Old Hughes only lured out half of the garrison’s cavalry. If we were to launch a direct assault on the remaining defensive forces, it would consume a lot of our ammunition reserves. What a waste!”

Dav rubbed his hands together and grinned ferociously. “How many cavalry are coming?”

“Highland City only has a garrison of less than a thousand. I estimate the cavalry sent out to plunder won’t exceed five hundred. Have your battalion prepare for an ambush… and make sure you don’t let any of them slip through the net. We don’t want any unexpected complications for our surprise attack later!”

“Heh heh, less than five hundred cavalry? Just give me an hour! I guarantee I’ll even have the battlefield cleaned up by then!”

With that, he turned and left the command tent without a backward glance, heading towards the ambush site on the slopes below.

Chapter 521: Blitz on Highland City!

Randy Hughes hurried back to the Stoneheart Merchant Guild’s trading post in Highland City.

Seeing him return safely, a few of his trusted subordinates quickly closed the door and led him down to the trading post’s wine cellar, gathering around Old Hughes.

“My Lord Priest, did you successfully reveal the false information to Cavalry Commander Guerrero?”

“Did he believe it? The man on watch saw half of the city’s cavalry suddenly leave their garrison this evening and head south out of the city.”

Old Hughes took off his thick fur coat and changed into a light, dark red clerical robe. He chuckled sinisterly, “With Guerrero’s greedy nature, there was no way he’d ignore the intel I gave him about the merchant caravan. The Earl of Highland is far away in the Holy City at the Holy See and doesn’t care about his fiefdom. While that makes this commander relatively free with no one to control him, his political career has hit a dead end. His only recourse is to continuously amass wealth to make up for it.”

With that, he turned and retrieved an exquisitely crafted brass instrument from a locked box in the cellar. His hand trembled slightly as he caressed its surface, his expression fervent. “This is the price the people of St. Valen paid for our cooperation. Now that we have it, their success or failure is no longer our concern.”

One of his subordinates asked doubtfully, “My Lord Priest, this thing… can it really… deepen the connection between the believers and my Lord, and allow us to receive a new 【Divine Revelation】?”

Old Hughes shot the man a look, replying impatiently, “Of course! The people of St. Valen already demonstrated it to me back at Wolf Fang Ridge… This is an instrument, a magic artifact excavated from ancient ruins, and I have received clear and precise instructions on how to use it through a revelation in my dreams.”

The magical weapons wielded by the St. Valen people who gave him this instrument served as indirect proof of this ritual artifact’s authenticity. Only by re-establishing their connection with their god through this artifact could they have obtained such immense power—power that allows even mortal soldiers to control magic and utterly sweep away the blasphemers of the Luminous Theocracy who worship a false god.

Now, this ritual artifact was finally in the hands of true devout believers like them. Once they used their inherited sacrificial rituals to regain their god’s attention, they too would be granted the same immense power!

Under the scorching gazes of all the heretics in the cellar, Old Hughes carefully placed the brass instrument in the center of a makeshift formation drawn on the floor. He then ordered his men to bring several strange, pre-prepared offerings, which they placed in sequence around the instrument.

The believers slowly backed away and sat cross-legged, beginning to chant a strange and difficult sacrificial prayer under the guidance of the ritual… Standing in the center of the formation, Old Hughes prostrated himself on the ground. He took a lustrous high-grade magic stone from his robes and decisively slotted it into a groove on the side of the brass instrument.

As the chanting of the sacrificial prayer grew faster and more intense, he reached out with a trembling finger and pressed several different buttons and mechanisms on the instrument… A few minutes later, innumerable, densely packed, ephemera-like patterns began to appear on the crystal plate atop the device. They scattered and converged, moving slowly as if they were alive.

“Yes… this is the sign!” Old Hughes muttered in a fanatical whisper. “These are the mana ephemera within the artifact, used to connect to the otherworld! They are also the ritual runes!”

He immediately pressed the instrument’s mechanisms again, expertly inputting a sacrificial prayer he had long since memorized. After the mana ephemera scattered and regrouped once more… a string of strange, alien text appeared on the crystal screen.

That was the script of Devils! A revelation from the “Supreme Demon God”!

With bloodshot eyes, Hughes stared intently at the crystal screen and began to decipher it, word by word…

“Aid… St. Valen… reach… Spine of the Continent Mountains… canyon chasm, King of the North… god’s… agent…”

He muttered under his breath, his expression shifting from ecstasy to confusion, then from confusion to gravity, and finally, to dawning realization.

“The Great Being has sent down a revelation to His most devout believers!”

“The leader of those St. Valen people is His agent in the mortal realm… Pledging fealty to the King of the North is the only way to serve and please Him!”

Old Hughes straightened up and looked around at his followers. “Such a clear and unerring divine revelation… we haven’t received one in nearly fifty years. We have finally re-established our connection with my Lord…”

Before he could finish, a faint, muffled tremor ran through the ground. A believer disguised as a guild assistant rushed in. “My Lord Priest, there was a sudden explosion at the south gate not far from here! The defenders on the city wall seem to be under attack!”

Old Hughes stood up, clutching the brass instrument to his chest, and shouted harshly, “It’s the people of St. Valen! They’ve ambushed the cavalry that left the city as planned, and now they’re attacking Highland City! What are we waiting for? Get all our believers hidden throughout the city to move! We’ll coordinate from within and without to help them wipe out the defenders and open the gates!”

The flash of the explosion at the city gate was gone in an instant, followed by a more intense barrage of fire blossoming across the top of the wall.

Wayne raised his spyglass and looked at the towering city walls in the distance. The torches set up on the battlements were perfect target markers, providing the soldiers operating the Portable Cannons with a crucial point of reference.

“The defenders on the walls are not our primary targets. Don’t waste precious ammunition on them.” He turned and muttered to a messenger, “Tell the artillery to concentrate their fire on the city gate. We need to open a breach as quickly as possible and launch a surprise attack inside!”

A short while later, the whooshing sound of launches came from the artillery position to the rear. The scorching flames erupting from the muzzles briefly illuminated the entire infantry position, and the smell of fiercely burning Dragon’s Flame powder was inexplicably invigorating.

This time, the artillery scored a direct hit on the massive wooden gate. The iron chains and winch that raised it were also struck, blasting into the air along with the splintering fragments of the gate and shearing off half of a watchtower on the wall.

Aided by the howling night wind and swirling yellow sand, the defenders on the walls were thrown into a panicked disarray by the violent explosions and spreading fires after just two volleys, without even catching a glimpse of their attackers.

By the time the Northern Army soldiers in their “optical camouflage” uniforms charged into the city, they discovered that a disturbance had already erupted within Highland City. Several buildings in the city center were engulfed in raging flames, but not from the Northern Army’s shells. It seemed someone had deliberately started the fires at the same time as their assault on the gate.

Several fireworks suddenly shot into the sky above the chaotic city from different directions. Wayne narrowed his eyes, then grinned fiercely. “It’s our inside agents, showing us the way! All groups, on my command! Attack in the direction of the fireworks! Seize the targets they’ve marked as quickly as possible!”

If all went as expected, those fireworks were pointing to the City Guard barracks, the granary, the Earl of Highland’s Mansion… and the rendezvous point with their “heretic” insiders!

Chapter 522: A Coordinated Attack from Within and Without

It was a long while before Guerrero recovered from the earth-shattering explosion. His limbs were so weak that he needed his personal guards to help him onto his horse, but his ears still rang as if a live hornet had been stuffed inside them.

Had a sandstorm triggered a thunderstrike from the heavens?

Before he could learn the truth, the low rumble of thunder, accompanied by a sharp whistle, sounded overhead once more. A stable next to the cavalry encampment was suddenly engulfed by a massive fireball. The entire wooden structure instantly blew apart, and a large number of frightened horses stampeded through the camp, trampling countless disheveled soldiers to death or serious injury.

Some men, wreathed in flames, fell to the ground, rolling and struggling. Others screamed themselves hoarse as their legs were broken by the horses. But most were scared out of their wits by the ceaseless thunder and heavenly fire, dropping their weapons and fleeing for their lives out of the camp.

Outside the cavalry encampment, it was just as chaotic. Raging fires burned everywhere in the city, illuminating half the sky. All of Highland City was like a part of Hell upon which divine punishment had suddenly been unleashed.

“By the Light! What in the world is happening?”

A group of locals dressed as Stoneheart Merchant Guild workers poured through the camp’s open gates, seemingly followed by more men in black. Each of them was tightly gripping a long, thin, silver iron rod, which they raised and aimed at Guerrero on his horse.

“Old Hughes? It’s you! What have you done in the city?” the Commander of the cavalry stammered, freezing for a moment as realization dawned on him.

The leader, Old Hughes, gave a sinister laugh but didn’t answer. Instead, he turned and bowed humbly to a tall man in black. “This is Commander Guerrero, the only military leader currently in Highland City. He’s also the watchdog handpicked by the Earl of Highland to manage this fiefdom on his behalf.”

The man in black nodded but paid Guerrero no mind, asking, “Doesn’t Highland City even have a battle priest from the Church or an Inquisitorial Knight? Only these weak mortal City Guards?”

Old Hughes nodded and admitted frankly, “The Earl of Highland patrols the Holy City year-round, so he took the priests and Inquisitorial Knights originally stationed here back to Goris. Only a few low-ranking priests and clerics remain in the cathedral, relying on some low-level divine arts and mass rituals to keep control of the city’s populace… This is precisely why we set up our organization’s headquarters here—it’s a vacuum of Church power, a place safe enough for us to develop in secret.”

Guerrero finally understood completely. He gritted his teeth and demanded, “Heretics! Magic-wielding heretics! Who have you thrown in with? Who are these outsiders in black? Battle mages from Da’ers?”

“The King of the North!” Old Hughes announced loudly. “The new king of St. Valen! He will completely eradicate the Church’s influence in Isengard and bring a new order to our nation!”

“The King of the North from St. Valen? That’s impossible…” Guerrero denied it instinctively, but as he watched the fires and chaos spreading through the city, his throat felt as if a burning coal had been shoved into it, and he couldn’t get the rest of the words out.

He could only tighten the reins in vain, struggling to control his terrified warhorse. Several dozen of his personal guards still surrounded him. The enemy group had no robed spellcasters among them, and they were all dressed as ordinary foot soldiers who had entered the city. If he charged now to break through the city gates, it seemed there was still a chance of escape.

As long as he could use the momentum of a cavalry charge to flee the city, whether he rode for the border at Wolf Fang Ridge or headed east to the fiefdoms of other nobles, he could deliver the urgent military intelligence of Highland City’s fall. Heretics openly rebelling within Isengard was no small matter; it would surely shake the capital… Then he could reassemble an army, return to Highland City, and wipe them all out in one fell swoop, these heretics who colluded with foreign enemies. He would tie every last one to the stake for execution!

But before he could raise his sword and give the order to charge, the man in black in the lead narrowed his eyes, raised his hand and brought it down sharply, shouting—

“Fire!”

A dense crackling sound suddenly erupted. Guerrero only had time to see the bright silver light flash from the tips of the iron rods in the hands of the soldiers in black. An instant later, his body was rocked by a violent jolt, his chest feeling as if it had been struck by a heavy, invisible sledgehammer. His armor shattered amidst a spray of blood, and then came the delayed, excruciating pain and endless darkness…

The Commander of the cavalry tumbled from his horse. Just like his personal guards who were also falling from their mounts, he died without ever understanding what kind of weapon had killed him so silently.

…

As dawn broke, the chaos in Highland City from the night before gradually subsided. The Northern Army, with the help of their inside agents, quickly took control of three city gates. They eliminated the few remaining soldiers in the city and extinguished several raging fires.

“My lord Wayne, as you instructed, the followers have gone door-to-door to inform the city’s residents to stay in their homes for now and not go out. Your soldiers have also successfully taken control of the three city gates, and Wolf Fang Ridge, the closest border pass to Highland City, has also been captured by the Northern Army. Right now, no one knows that Highland City has completely changed hands.”

Old Hughes, finally able to openly wear his precious priest’s robes, led Wayne and the others directly into the long-vacant Earl’s residence. He smiled and rubbed his hands together. “Please rest assured. Our people and informants are spread throughout the city, closely monitoring all movements. I guarantee that no news will leak out anytime soon.”

Wayne nodded, recalling the information he had received. He forced a smile as he clasped Old Hughes’s hand. “Priest, Your Excellency, our smooth takeover of Highland City is all thanks to the information and help provided by you and your followers. I will report this to His Majesty immediately and will not allow your merits and contributions to be overlooked!”

Old Hughes’s eyes reddened, and he sighed with emotion. “I know you received the revelation earlier than we did, and thus obtained the powerful boons you dreamed of… But thankfully, my Lord did not completely forget us in the end and allowed us to successfully establish contact. With that precious ritual artifact, the followers will no longer be completely lost in their agonizing wait.”

He grasped Wayne’s hand in return, his expression firm. “This is all a test of our faith from my Lord. From this day forward, there will be no distinction between us. We will piously serve the gods together and pledge fealty to the King of the North, the gods’ agent in the mortal world!”

Wayne’s mouth twitched slightly. He forced himself to maintain his grip on Old Hughes’s hand and said firmly, “That’s right! We swear fealty to the King of the North until death!”

Seeing this, the gathered followers excitedly fell to their knees. Raising their hands high above their heads, they kowtowed northward in a strange posture and shouted in unison, “We pledge fealty to the King of the North! We swear to serve my Lord’s agent in the mortal world until death!”

Dav, standing behind Wayne, was trying so hard not to laugh that his face was contorted. He discreetly prodded Wayne in the small of his back with the pommel of his sword.

Wayne jolted and immediately asked Old Hughes with a serious expression, “Priest, you mentioned that in the hermits’ ritual site in the city… there is a permanent continental teleportation array, is that correct?”

Hughes smiled. “That was built by spellcasters who used to operate secretly in Highland City. After they were hunted down and driven out by the witch hunters… we secretly moved the teleportation array into our ritual catacomb. But some of the key formation instruments and activation runes are damaged, so it can’t be used right now.”

Wayne’s heart leaped with joy. He quickly said, “That’s fine, we know how to repair it. With the right method… the teleportation array can be directly converted into an, uh… a sacrificial formation. That way, we can receive a continuous supply of power from my Lord’s agent, His Majesty Harvey!”

Old Hughes’s eyes lit up, and he exclaimed in delight, “Really? His Majesty wields a great deal of the power gifted by my Lord? Quick! Quick! I’ll take you to the ritual catacomb right now. It’s right beneath the Stoneheart Merchant Guild’s trading post!”

Chapter 523: The Supplies Arrive

Old Hughes stood in the catacomb of the Stoneheart Hermits, staring dumbfounded at the scene unfolding before him.

Dozens of alchemical constructs forged from steel crawled back and forth across the badly damaged ritual circle, their nimble and sharp appendages constantly engaged in the complex work of repairing and perfecting it. The delicate operations that had once required several mid-rank Spellcasters working in concert were now being easily handled by alchemical constructs completely lacking human intelligence.

The only two Spellcasters in this army were standing by like uninvolved spectators, seemingly placing immense trust in the autonomous actions of these alchemical constructs.

Could this, too, be a power they had obtained from the boon?

“You two… Your Excellencies, can… can these alchemical constructs truly repair the teleportation circle on their own?” Old Hughes swallowed hard and asked dryly. “This is a formation from over a hundred years ago. Its magical model and rune construction are vastly different from those of today…”

The male high-level Mage known as Eye of Illusion glanced at him but clearly had no intention of answering. Instead, the female high-level Mage, the Astrologer, explained with a calm but cold demeanor, “These are not ordinary alchemical constructs. This is His Majesty’s Life Alchemy… After undergoing a form of soul construction called ‘programming,’ they can handle many tasks on their own without needing human control or frequent commands. You wouldn’t understand the rest anyway.”

Life Alchemy… soul construction… “programming”…

Old Hughes’ heart leaped. Wasn’t this the legendary forbidden art of usurping the authority of the gods, of bestowing wisdom and life upon inanimate objects?

That the Supreme Being’s boon included something so terrifying… he couldn’t imagine what immense price had to be paid to obtain it…

He dared not dwell on it any longer. He quickly took two steps back and lowered his head again.

“Alright, the repairs on the formation are basically complete. I will now attempt to establish the initial connection with Starfire City’s central server.” Eye of Illusion took an exquisite brass device from his storage ring, one almost identical to the device Old Hughes had received from Wayne. “Once the network request is sent, it should be approved quickly… However, we may have to wait some time for the supplies to be delivered.”

With that, he began to rapidly tap the keys on the device. Old Hughes, who had just lowered his head, couldn’t help but raise it again, his eyes fixed on Eye of Illusion’s every input, wishing he could sear the sequence into his memory.

Wayne glanced at the old priest and couldn’t help but smirk… It seemed the old cultist had mistaken the Northern Army’s communication signals and network access password for a ritual prayer to beseech a boon from the gods.

The network password was for one-time use; it would be scrambled and regenerated immediately after. Only those at the commander level of a military campaign possessed a higher-grade, fixed code that could be used to obtain a new network password.

Eye of Illusion busied himself with the Magic Brain device for a good while before he successfully connected the ancient continental teleportation array to the Magic Net, finally establishing a link with the planetary energy-gathering array and the Magic Brain central hub in faraway Starfire City.

The Stoneheart Hermits contributed nearly their entire stock of high-grade magic stones, accumulated over many long years, to finally activate the modified long-range teleportation array.

After a violent tremor and a loud hum, the center of the brightly lit teleportation circle began to fill with a steady stream of large, securely packed supply crates… Wayne was overjoyed. He quickly called over the waiting soldiers, who, along with the alchemical beasts, swarmed forward to unload the cargo.

There was everything they needed: bullets and shells, liquid magical energy, spare parts for the alchemical beasts, replacement components for firearms and artillery, and military-grade medical supplies.

Amidst the mountain of supplies, Wayne even spotted some “luxury rations”—candy and cigarettes specifically provided to soldiers on long expeditions to relieve stress and tension, as well as extra-thick military uniforms to withstand the harsh cold.

The light from the runes on the teleportation circle gradually dimmed. The Astrologer walked over to inspect it and shook her head. “The high-grade magic stones provide power to the formation for too short a time. We can barely maintain the long-range teleportation for less than half an hour. Headquarters says they still have at least a third of the supplies they haven’t been able to send.”

Old Hughes felt as if his heart were bleeding. This was his organization’s precious reserve of magic stones, painstakingly accumulated for over a decade. To think that using them to activate and start the sacrificial formation would only sustain it for half an hour…

Eye of Illusion closed the Magic Brain device and turned to Wayne. “Headquarters is asking. They said if necessary, we can draw from the liquid magical energy we brought to restart the teleportation array. That way, they can transport more supplies over.”

Wayne shook his head in refusal. For this long-distance military operation, they had tried to conserve ammunition and supplies as much as possible. The liquid magical energy they carried was extremely precious and was meant to be used to build a permanent teleportation array once they reached the pass in the Spine of the Gods Mountains… It absolutely could not be wasted on an old, temporary teleportation array.

It was the fault of this teleportation array’s ancient magical model and rune construction. It simply couldn’t handle the transport of liquid magical energy over such long distances. The unstable structure of the formation would only cause the sensitive magical energy to change its form during its transit through space. Starfire City might send out liquid Storage canisters, but by the time they reached Highland City, they might have transformed into a solid state… or worse, a gaseous state that was impossible to convert for use.

“There’s no need to rush. With this batch of supplies, we can hold out for a long time,” Wayne said with a smile, turning to Old Hughes. “Lord Priest, during the time before we successfully reach the pass in the Spine of the Gods Mountains, we will still need your and the Hermit Order’s help to maintain Highland City as a teleportation supply point. As for the magic stones you’ve consumed… Starfire City will doubly reimburse and compensate you after the mission is successfully completed!”

Old Hughes nodded repeatedly. Finally, he asked cautiously, “My lord Wayne, this boon from His Majesty… I was wondering if we, the devout believers, could possibly…”

Wayne and Eye of Illusion exchanged a look. Wayne turned, took a short-barreled revolver from a newly opened weapons crate, weighed it in his hand, and handed it directly to the old priest.

“Of course, you get a share of His Majesty’s boon. This is your rightful reward for all your assistance…” Wayne pointed to the new revolver in Old Hughes’s hands and said meaningfully, “Besides, you have now completely submitted to His Majesty and chosen to pledge your undying fealty. You will have your share in every supply shipment from now on.”

Old Hughes was overjoyed. He cradled the heavy handgun, unable to part with it. Although he didn’t know how to use it, he had personally witnessed the awesome power of these weapons and understood their immense value. “My lord Wayne, how else may we serve His Majesty?”

“Hold Highland City. Control the situation within its walls. Monitor it closely and prevent any news of its fall from leaking out…” Wayne leaned close to Old Hughes’s ear, his low voice like a Devil’s chant.

“I will give you at least thirty weapons like the one in your hand—silent and easily wielded by mortals… Have your most capable followers take them and spread out across Isengard… to secretly assassinate those Church dignitaries and noble lords.”

“Clear the obstacles within Isengard for the Northern Army’s march north to the great chasm of the Spine of the Gods.”

Let them fall into chaos first. As long as they’re in chaos, they won’t have time to pay attention to this isolated expeditionary force that has ventured deep into their territory.

Chapter 524: The Rootless People

Harvey sat by the Magic Brain device in his office, quickly reading through the phased strategic report sent back by the Northern Realm’s expeditionary force.

“I thought they would choose to dig in at the border, at Wolf Fang Ridge and Highland City, and wait for the second wave of reinforcements to arrive with supplies,” he said, clapping his hands with considerable satisfaction. “I never expected that in order to reach their target location as quickly as possible, the expeditionary force would take the initiative to cooperate with a local anti-Church organization and capture a temporary supply point to teleport materiel.”

Astaren smiled. “Your Majesty, wasn’t it your intention for them to make contact and coordinate their subsequent actions when you had the Intelligence Department leak information about the Stoneheart Hermits to the expeditionary force?”

When an army operates on foreign soil, far from home, there is no need for it to rigidly adhere to a predetermined plan. The high command of the Military and the General Staff, operating from the main base, only provide the overall strategic deployment. How to carry out each specific phase of the operation is ultimately left in the hands of the commanders and officers on the front lines.

This gave the frontline combat units a high degree of autonomy, while also testing the strategic vision and command capabilities of officers at all levels, perfectly fulfilling the general principles of Harvey’s “train through combat” and “talent development” plans.

What no one had expected, however, was that after successfully establishing a partnership with the local anti-Church organization, this expeditionary force, under the leadership of Wayne and Dav, had swiftly incorporated these “Heretics” into their operational plans. They were deployed as a hidden “guerilla force,” operating within the noble territories along the expeditionary force’s route of advance. Their purpose was to foment internal chaos ahead of the main army, reducing the likelihood of organized resistance from local nobles.

Even Pierce, who was always strict with his subordinates, couldn’t help but offer a word of praise in front of Harvey. “It is indeed an effective tactical arrangement.”

At this rate, the expeditionary force was expected to reach the rift in the Spine of the Continent Mountains over half a month ahead of schedule, establishing a defensive line there far faster than anticipated.

However, the upcoming “Plunder Plan” was the main event.

Harvey stood before a map that covered the entire long table, his gaze fixed on the Wolf Fang Ridge area on Isengard’s border. This border pass, a tangled web of interlocking ridges and peaks, was situated at the junction of the Da’ers exclave, St. Valen, and Isengard.

The Da’ers exclave, which the expeditionary force was passing through, was a special “wizard duchy” that nominally belonged to the wizard kingdom of Da’ers but did not actually share a border with it. It was jointly ruled by several renowned wizard families with long and storied histories and also maintained close ties with the Federation. However, its territory was small and its population sparse. It relied entirely on trade with St. Valen and Isengard, the two nations it was wedged between, for its supply of food and materials. In return, the exclave exported a large number of Spellcaster advisors to serve the nobles of the surrounding kingdoms.

Harvey had no interest whatsoever in conquering this tiny exclave, whose land area was less than a third of the Alyrid Duchy’s. It was even more unnecessary to jeopardize his good relationship with the Federation over it.

As for St. Valen itself, after suffering through the Rotting Plague, foreign invasions, and internal strife, most of its cities had been touched by the flames of war to some degree. Coupled with the Northern Realm’s continuous recruitment and resettlement efforts, this led to the masses abandoning their land and flocking to northern cities like Starfire City. The upside of this phenomenon was, of course, the acceleration of industrialization. Factories for mass production sprang up like mushrooms in the Northern Realm, providing a continuous source of power for the vast state machine under Harvey’s rule.

But there was a downside. The land nationalization policy Harvey had enacted was being implemented gradually, and much of the land scattered across the country, which had not yet been surveyed and collected, had already been mercilessly abandoned by the local populace. Compared to the heavily taxed farmland where harvests depended on the heavens, the promise of stable, long-term jobs in Starfire City—where one could eat their fill and dress warmly—was far more appealing to these impoverished laborers.

As people from all regions continued to pour into the Northern Realm and the surrounding Grizzly Bear Territory, more and more land in the central and southern regions of St. Valen fell into disuse. Fengyuan City, the original “granary of the Duchy,” was now facing the ridiculous situation of having alchemical farming machinery ready but not enough people to work the fields. This forced Harvey to reconsider and adjust his population recruitment plans.

Rather than letting the abandoned farmland lie fallow and become overgrown with weeds, it was better to bring in people from other countries to fill the labor shortage in agriculture. And the people of Isengard were the most suitable “target for importation.”

Initially, he hadn’t been very optimistic about this populace of blind, devout followers of the Church. He had no intention of relocating them to St. Valen. A faith passed down through generations would be difficult for these people to cast aside in a short time. Bringing them in rashly would be like planting a religious powder keg in his own country, one that could explode at any moment. The risks and rewards were completely disproportionate.

But as his intelligence network gradually infiltrated Isengard, Harvey discovered an extremely unique group within the country: the “Borderland Tribes.” These tribes, called the “Rootless People” by the locals, were not insignificant in number. Although most had been ruthlessly driven into the border mountains and the deserts near the Spine of the Continent Mountains to the north for refusing to believe in the Church, their total population was estimated to be no less than one hundred thousand.

Having lived for generations in those bitter, cold lands, the “Rootless People” possessed an indescribable longing for green pastures and fertile fields. As long as he dispatched a suitable “diplomatic mission” to make deep contact with them, even if he could only “cajole” a few of the most desperate tribes into immigrating at first, with these pioneers to pave the way and verify the promise was real, the hundreds of other tribes, large and small, would soon be unable to resist the temptation and would stream into St. Valen to become Harvey’s “good subjects.”

Harvey wasn’t particularly worried about the integration of the local population and the foreign tribes. With no organized religion and only some primitive nature worship, the “Rootless People” were essentially a blank slate. As long as Starfire City’s vast education system absorbed them, they could quickly be cultivated into staunch Humanists. Under the doctrine of Human solidarity, any thoughts of distinguishing between “us” and “them” would be erased.

As for their unique customs and cultural characteristics, Harvey actually saw that as a form of diversity. Even on Earth in his past life, differences in lifestyle and diet between northerners and southerners often sparked debates. Perhaps after this great migration into St. Valen, the amusing spectacle of a “sweet versus savory tofu pudding debate” would appear in the near future.

Just as Harvey’s mind was wandering, Egnor and Chris suddenly knocked and entered. “Your Majesty, the two legacy treasures from the east and the southern city of Hollowhearth—the Heart of the Golden Tree and the Earth Crystal Core—have now arrived in Starfire City, personally escorted by the two races.”

Chapter 525: The Secret Treasures of the Two Races

When Harvey and his men arrived at the Alchemy Laboratory, they found two groups of non-human visitors, who had also just arrived, standing in the main hall and glaring at each other. The atmosphere was incredibly tense.

Leading the Elven race was a man of indeterminable age, with a gaunt face and a long, slender frame. His dark green hair was tied back, clearly revealing pointed ears that differed from a human’s. Both his hair color and the shape of his ears indicated that he was a pure-blood elf.

On the Dwarven side was a short, stocky male leader. He stood beside Steelbristle, the long-term resident “exchange student,” pointing at the Elves with a look of utter disdain. The other Dwarves behind him were even cruder, pressing their index fingers to the sides of their heads—an insulting gesture the Dwarves had long used to mock their “sworn enemies,” the Elves.

From the expressions on both sides, it seemed a shouting match had just reached its midway point, only to be interrupted by Harvey’s timely arrival.

Chris, who had been nursing a headache, saw Harvey and hurried over, whispering in his ear, “To avoid any incidents, I had Egnor and the other half-elf experimenters leave the Laboratory. Your Majesty… what should we do now?”

The Elven leader also noticed Harvey enter with his retinue. He immediately turned and bowed, his greeting poised and graceful. “Your esteemed Majesty of St. Valen and Your Excellency, the agent… Heart of the Forest, a founding member of the Forum, asked me to convey his sincerest regards to you.”

“Oh? You know my handle?” Harvey asked, a little surprised, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you a Forum member as well?”

“Percival Landi, handle Windtalker, an associate member without even the right to speak.” The coarse-featured Dwarven leader sneered, then turned to Harvey and saluted by thumping his chest. “Your esteemed Majesty, please just call me Aron. Their Excellencies Frost Giant and Rock Titan also asked me to send you their greetings.”

The Elven leader with the handle Windtalker snorted coldly and added in a low voice, “Handle Molten, also an associate member without speaking rights.”

While the Spellcaster Forum was a name known to all in the southerners’ spellcasting community, it remained a secret and special organization. For the Dwarves and Elves, however, it was practically a semi-public entity. Due to the Human spellcasters’ blockade and control over the learning of magic, these non-human mages saw the Forum as a precious channel for accessing magic, one that could perfectly bypass the tradition-bound High Wizard Council and the Federation, freeing them from constant restrictions and discrimination.

Harvey coughed, pretending not to notice the hostility between the two parties. “You have all come from afar,” he said with a smile, “and have escorted such precious tribal treasures for us. You deserve the grandest and most formal reception… It’s just that Starfire City is currently busy with many affairs, and the internal situation in my kingdom has only just stabilized, so our welcome has been a bit lacking.”

The Dwarf, Molten, was a straightforward and honest sort. He waved his hand dismissively. “You’re a king, Your Majesty, no need to be so polite with us. That Mr. Iron Legs was going to take us to our lodgings to rest after picking us up from the teleportation array… But we were all worried about the treasures we were escorting, so we rushed here to the Laboratory to find a way to store them first. It’s safer that way.”

Chris, now dubbed “Mr. Iron Legs,” shrugged helplessly, which drew a few chuckles from Harvey’s personal guard.

The Elven leader, Windtalker, also nodded in agreement. “We are, after all, tasked with transporting them,” he said softly. “Business comes first. Before I left, the Great Elder also instructed me to ask Your Majesty to speak up if you need any assistance.”

It seems the founding members of both races are quite sensible…

Harvey nodded in satisfaction and said directly, “Then please follow us into the Laboratory. Let’s inspect the treasures first.”

…

“This is the Heart of the Golden Tree?” Chris exclaimed in astonishment. “It doesn’t look like it has any connection to a plant… It looks more like some kind of crystal mineral.”

Harvey was also slightly puzzled. If no one had told him, he would have mistaken the shuttle-shaped crystal wrapped in the broad leaves of a Golden Tree for the Earth Crystal Core from the Dwarves.

The Earth Crystal Core, on the other hand, was unusually different from what one might expect. It was a liquid substance, like diluted clay, held in an earthenware jar covered in countless primitive runes. It looked more like liquid magical energy that had been repeatedly compressed into a semi-solid state.

“Your Majesty need not be confused. ‘Heart of the Golden Tree’ and ‘Earth Crystal Core’ were names given by Human spellcasters; they are not what our two races call them in our ancient tongues… I don’t know about the Earth Crystal Core, but the Heart of the Golden Tree is indeed produced inside Golden Trees that are over five hundred years old. It is a rare creation formed from the high condensation of natural elements.”

Windtalker gracefully picked up the crystal heart, showing Harvey the elemental brilliance constantly flowing within it. “It is no exaggeration to call it a unique secret treasure of the Elven race. With ongoing excavation and consumption, the yield of these crystal hearts is dwindling. In the last fifty years, we have found fewer than ten. Moreover, the Golden Trees cannot be spurred to grow by any means. The council of elders predicts that in a few more decades, these precious crystals will likely be completely depleted, and we will once again have to place our hopes in a long, long wait.”

Harvey nodded, carefully taking the Heart from the other’s hands. The Federation’s ancient texts indeed gave no clear description of the magical material’s appearance, but they heavily emphasized its preciousness and rarity. Not even Araye’s Celestial Domain Vault had ever been fortunate enough to acquire one for its collection.

Seeing this, the Dwarf, Molten, quickly held up the jar with the Earth Crystal Core and said to Harvey in a competitive tone, “Your Majesty, the Earth Crystal Core is also a rare item that my people obtain through immense hardship. This thing grows in lava regions nearly eight thousand meters underground, a place neither mortals nor spellcasters can reach. Only a type of Scorching Armadillo, specially bred in Hollowhearth City, can descend through the fissures and hollows in the earth’s crust and retrieve a small amount by eating it… The moment the armadillo returns to the surface, it must be immediately killed and cut open to retrieve the core from its stomach. If we’re even a step too late, the core will be completely absorbed and converted by it, and all our efforts will be for nothing.”

Harvey gently shook the jar, estimating that the liquid core inside weighed at least half a pound. A Scorching Armadillo was only about half the length of a Dwarf’s arm, so to collect this much core, at least three of them must have been sacrificed… Artificially breeding the armadillos was extremely difficult; the Dwarven race had truly paid a hefty price this time.

It seemed Harvey’s proposal—to establish a New Federation based on the Spellcaster Forum, in which they could hold a number of seats—was indeed a great temptation for both races.

He nodded at Molten with equal approval and announced, “I learned from a secret ancient text that the Heart of the Golden Tree and the Earth Crystal Core can, through a secret ritual, give birth to a Stone of Life that can accelerate the growth of all things. I have separately sought confirmation from the Forum members of both your races, and it appears the contents of the ancient text are indeed true… However, there are still too many details of the ritual that I cannot verify. I will need the two of you to assist and cooperate with me.”

Windtalker cleared his throat and explained with some hesitation, “What Your Majesty learned from the ancient texts is correct, but… creating the Stone of Life is not difficult. The difficulty lies in… in controlling it. According to my race’s records, this thing only has a growth-accelerating effect on non-magical herbaceous plants; it has no effect whatsoever on alchemical plants. And it seems… it seems to have an independent consciousness, like a living, thinking being!”

A living being with an independent consciousness? A magic stone?

Before Harvey could even react, Molten chimed in with his gruff voice, “That’s right. My people’s records also state this. The stone looks no different from an ordinary magic stone, but the catalytic growth effect it produces after being infused with mana is uncontrollable… When you try to use it to make a field of wheat seedlings grow quickly, the result is that the seedlings go from sprouting to withering in an instant. It is impossible to strictly control it to stop at the stage where it ripens and bears grain.”

Chapter 526: Knowledge Knows No Seniority

The fact that the Stone of Life couldn’t control the catalytic effect and process was something Harvey hadn’t expected at all.

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as he asked, “So, all this time, the Spellcaster world has rarely heard about your two races cooperating to create the Stone of Life, not because you’re sworn enemies who despise each other, but because the stone’s effect is just so… impractical?”

Windtalker nodded. His demeanor was still one of elegant nobility, but his gaze never once fell upon the Dwarf opposite him. “Correct. My race and the Dwarves don’t have what you would call a true blood feud. It’s just that the paths we follow have certain divergences, and we have little interaction with each other…”

Molten rolled his eyes and retorted bluntly, “There are certainly divergences. Compared to Humans, we just have a greater dislike for closed-off, conservative, and arrogant clans, that’s all.”

The “exchange student” Steelbristle discreetly nudged him with his elbow, making Molten realize his slip of the tongue. He hastily added, “Of course, Your Majesty is different. Whether it’s welcoming my race to Starfire City to study magic or opening new, mutually beneficial trade routes… the help we’ve received from the Forum alone has been substantial. We hold you in absolute respect and friendship.”

“The Elven race feels the same…” Windtalker, along with the group of fair-faced Elves behind him, bowed in unison.

Harvey waved his hand and said with a wry smile, “Your sincerity and help are beyond doubt, of course. But the current difficulty is… after the Stone of Life is created, how can I use it effectively? If it’s really as you say… I’m afraid Starfire City’s hopes for it will be dashed.”

Hearing this, the Dwarves and Elves lowered their heads, their expressions grim. If Harvey’s desired outcome wasn’t achieved, not only would their seats in the New Federation be lost, but the preferential treatment for their two races on the Forum and their trade and communication in the real world would also be hindered. This was unacceptable to them.

Before Harvey could offer any words of comfort, the doors to the Laboratory were suddenly thrown open.

Egnor, leading a squad of half-elves in white lab coats, walked straight into the Laboratory. He came before Harvey and bowed. “Your Majesty, I… I might have a way to control the Stone of Life and successfully manage the catalytic process of plant seeds!”

Harvey was stunned for a moment, then heard Chris exclaim beside him, “What are you doing back here? You…”

“Half-breeds! Defilers of the bloodline! This…” Windtalker was both shocked and furious. He stared wide-eyed, struggling to maintain what little composure he had left, and turned to Harvey. “Your Majesty, what is the meaning of this?”

Harvey sighed and said flatly, “Starfire City’s acceptance of half-elves was done with the tacit approval of the Golden Forest. You personally may not be aware of this, but the exchange students who arrived earlier have likely had plenty of interaction with them over this time.”

Tacit approval? The first Elven apprentices to come to the Northern Realm had already been interacting with these half-breeds?

Windtalker sucked in a sharp breath. He turned to the few “exchange students” cowering to the side with their heads down, and, suppressing his anger, demanded, “Is what His Majesty says true? Have you really been fraternizing with these half-breeds?”

Seeing that Windtalker was ignoring him and instead turning to bully his own students, a blaze of anger ignited in Egnor. He retorted without mercy, “The Golden Forest has been self-isolated, clinging to its traditions for far too long. You have no idea how the outside world has changed. If it weren’t for your rigid rules about bloodline purity, the Elven race would never have withered and declined to its current state.”

He raised his finger and pointed at the Elven exchange students, who were cowering in the corner like frightened quails. “They have strictly abided by Starfire City’s confidentiality agreement and haven’t spread what they’ve learned and seen here. If His Majesty permits… I can prove that even as half-breeds, when it comes to the study and practice of the Way of Nature, we have likely long since surpassed you!”

The moment he said this, it provoked a wave of whispers. Not only did the Elves hiss in disapproval, but even the Dwarves couldn’t help but perk up their ears, their faces showing that they were enjoying the show.

Windtalker felt his pride had been wounded. He snapped, “You dare discuss the Way of Nature with me? Based on a few nature-type spells you learned from Human Spellcasters? A spell is a spell, and the Way is the Way! Don’t you dare conflate the two with me!”

So, when the Elven race deals with internal conflicts, they follow a “war of words” style of Truth Debate, rather than choosing a Spell Duel to physically persuade their opponents like the Federation does!

Harvey suddenly felt their tradition was rather like the ancient sages of his past life who pursued the ideal of “sitting and discussing the Way.” So detached from reality and focused only on empty talk, it was no wonder that despite their long lifespans, the Elven race could only remain secluded in the east of the south to survive and develop.

But Egnor was clearly not skilled in “wars of words.” Under Harvey’s influence, Starfire City’s research-type Spellcasters all followed a pragmatic path, their slogan always being “knowledge is born from practice.” In terms of theory, he was likely much weaker than the pure-blood elf from the east.

Moreover, Harvey himself was completely clueless about nature-type spellcasting and had no proper means to help Egnor improve. Most of the time, he could only provide ample funding and resources, letting Egnor and his group of half-elf students work things out for themselves in the Alchemical Plant Garden and the fields, learning and growing through trial and error.

What’s more, since Windtalker held a certain status on the Forum, he was undoubtedly a high-rank Spellcaster. Although he clearly looked like a physically frail research-type, he was still much more powerful than Egnor, who was only mid-rank.

Harvey had always been fiercely protective of his own, so he quickly stepped forward to defuse the tense standoff. “Alright, alright, everyone, please remain calm. Since there’s a conflict of philosophies… let’s just verify your abilities with facts.”

He paused, then looked at Egnor with a trusting expression. “Since Egnor claims he has a way to control the Stone of Life, to do something that even the pure-blood Elves of the Golden Forest cannot, why don’t we let him try to prove it?”

On the surface, he was asking for everyone’s opinion, but his authoritative presence left no room for the Elves or Dwarves to refuse. Windtalker took a deep breath and nodded resolutely. “Fine. Since Your Majesty and my clan’s Elder reached a tacit agreement to take in half-breeds, it is not my place to pursue the matter further. Let this half-breed prove his proclaimed abilities to us. Let’s see just how much he has surpassed us in the study of the Way of Nature!”

Harvey actually wasn’t absolutely certain either and subconsciously decided to stall for a little time. So he smiled and said, “Let’s leave it at that for today. You’ve all come a long way, so you should return to your hotel and rest. We’ll officially begin the experiment tomorrow. We first need to successfully create the Stone of Life before we can even talk about trying to control and use it.”

The group of pure-blood Elves suppressed their anger and bowed to Harvey once more. Then, without even deigning to glance at Egnor and his group, they arrogantly followed the reception staff out of the Laboratory. Seeing this, the Dwarves also took their leave from Harvey.

Harvey let out a long breath. Seeing Egnor standing there with slightly reddened eyes, he comforted him in a gentle voice, “About the Stone of Life… even if your idea doesn’t work, they can’t cause too much trouble. Compared to the Heart of the Golden Tree… they’re the ones who truly need something from us.”

Egnor, however, showed no sign of feeling humiliated or wronged. He said earnestly, “Please don’t worry, Your Majesty. For now, we still rely on them for seed catalysis and crop cultivation. A direct fallout would be a greater loss for us… so I must succeed. For myself, for the other students, and for our Starfire City.”

Chris scratched his head, annoyed. “Stop being so dramatic. What’s your plan? What are your chances of success?”

The half-elf thought for a moment, then said slowly, “I’m more than eighty percent confident it will succeed. I’ve tried to verify it through experiments in other ways before. That miraculous method Your Majesty taught me… it should be effective.”

Harvey asked, surprised, “A method I taught you? What are you referring to? Soul grafting?”

Egnor shook his head and answered honestly, “Not in the area of soul forging. It’s your… your programming technique.”

Harvey’s and Chris’s eyes widened in unison as they stared at him in disbelief.

This guy actually planned to apply the programming technique Harvey himself had developed to control mana ephemera directly to the manipulation of natural elements!

Good heavens! Wasn’t this a straight-up metaphysical version of “gene editing”?

Chapter 527: Stone of Life

The ritual to create the Stone of Life was not completed in the Alchemy Laboratory. Instead, it was temporarily moved to the nearby Alchemical Plant Garden, which also served as the Potion Research Center for Starfire City’s infirmary.

As requested by the Elves and Dwarves, the Alchemical Plant Garden was the area in all of Starfire City with the densest and most abundant natural elements. For the creation of the Stone of Life, human intervention in the ritual was not the primary factor; it relied more on the natural attraction and stimulation of mana and natural elements that occurred when the two rare materials fused.

Harvey had no intention of participating in the ritual. Although he had obtained the specific procedure from ancient texts, he was not an elemental caster by trade. His ability to perceive and control natural elements was far inferior to that of the Dwarves and Elves—especially since both races had sent their most meticulously trained young high-ranks to assist him. There was no need for him to get involved.

“Your Majesty, the ritual recorded in the texts wasn’t nearly this complicated, was it?” Chris whispered doubtfully as he observed alongside Harvey. “Why do these Elves insist on playing instruments and chanting… at a crystal tree heart?”

Egnor frowned and explained in a low voice, “It’s a Nature’s Solemn Rite, an ancient tradition of the Golden Forest. They believe the Golden Trees are intelligent life forms on par with Elves. Therefore, fusing the Stone of Life is tantamount to sacrificing the soul of a living kinsman, which is why their chants are filled with sorrow and reluctance.”

Astaren chuckled softly and said, “That’s only because Your Majesty hasn’t given them enough. If the benefits were tempting enough… they’d probably be more than happy to chop down their Golden Trees by the grove and send them to Starfire City for firewood.”

In contrast, the Dwarven ritual was much simpler and more direct. Molten held a ceramic pot containing the liquid core and placed it on a large volcanic rock that had been prepared beforehand. After rapidly muttering an ancient incantation, he decisively raised a small, exquisitely crafted brass hammer and shattered the pot, revealing the jelly-like mass of the Earth Crystal Core inside.

An unseen Mage Hand lifted the Earth Crystal Core and gently dropped it into a metal cauldron used for mixing magic potions. The Elves then followed, carefully placing the Heart of the Golden Tree inside as well.

Strangely, the moment the crystal heart touched the liquid core, it disintegrated into a pile of fine sand. Without any need for stirring, it blended evenly with the core, causing tiny, star-like glimmers to appear within the translucent jelly.

Next, the Dwarves and Elves began taking various alchemical plants and crystal ores from their respective material chests—items that even Astaren and Chris couldn’t identify. What seemed like a chaotic jumble was, in fact, a carefully paced process as they added the items to the metal cauldron one by one.

Faint mana fluctuations began to emanate from within the Potion Research Center. Even non-elemental casters like Harvey and his companions could clearly feel the power of nature coalescing within the garden.

But this was not the Stone of Life actively absorbing the mana from the surrounding plants during the ritual. Instead, the natural energy seemed to materialize from thin air, as if seeping out from another dimension.

Harvey nodded thoughtfully, turning to Egnor who stood beside him. “You were right. The Stone of Life’s natural energy comes from the Magic Net space. In essence, it’s an… elemental converter that transforms pure mana into the power of nature!”

If the form and properties of mana could be converted, then the vessel acting as the converter could naturally be manipulated and edited as well—without even needing a magical reducing agent like Magic Spirit extract.

About half an hour later, the group felt the intense fluctuations of natural energy in the garden begin to stabilize. Upon closer inspection, it was clear that the natural mana that had seeped out from the invisible planar rift had now completely converged into the metal cauldron before the Elves and Dwarves.

Harvey led his men closer. In the cauldron, jointly held by Molten and Windtalker, he saw… a perfectly ordinary, grayish-white stone?

It was indeed a grayish-white stone, its surface partially covered in a dark green moss common in the barren lands. If it were tossed onto a riverbank right now, it was unlikely anyone would recognize it as the Stone of Life, a fusion of the rarest treasures from the Elven and Dwarven races.

“There’s no need to be surprised, Your Majesty. I believe that even in human texts, the appearance of the Stone of Life has never been specifically recorded, has it?” Windtalker explained slowly, a proud yet restrained smile on his face. “That is because the Stone of Life has no fixed form. When created in the Golden Forest, it might be a broad leaf. In Hollowhearth City, it becomes a piece of metal raw ore.”

Molten added in his deep, rumbling voice, “That’s right. When it was made in the Mage Tower of a Spellcaster in the south, it even turned into a stone brick for building city walls. That’s why people say it has an independent consciousness and cannot be controlled.”

And today, created in this Alchemical Plant Garden within a sprawling human city, it had not become a brick or a metal ingot, but was born in the most primitive and natural form of a pebble.

“This also proves that the barren lands are a place rich in natural energy and teeming with life,” Windtalker complimented Harvey subtly. “Your Majesty, this Alchemical Plant Garden of yours alone cultivates a variety of magical plants that far exceeds that of the south. I even discovered several species I’ve never seen or heard of. I was wondering if it would be possible…”

The Elves’ natural affinity for plants was innate. Upon seeing rare or unknown demonic plants, they were naturally unwilling to let the opportunity pass. They immediately implored Harvey to grant them a few seedlings to take back to the east, or to trade for them with other magical materials of equal value.

The garden did indeed contain many demonic plants native to the Northern Barren Lands, but they weren’t particularly rare or precious. Many of Starfire City’s ordinary residents would occasionally discover strange, unknown plants while on excursions out of the city on their days off. They would either uproot them or mark their location, then return to inform the infirmary. Only after their use and value were determined would they be gradually transplanted into the garden.

“Mr. Egnor is in charge of the Alchemical Plant Garden. If you wish to trade for plant seedlings, you should ask him, not me…” Harvey said lightly.

The group of Elves immediately grew awkward. Only yesterday, they had expressed their disgust and contempt for these mixed-bloods in front of His Majesty, and today they had to turn around and ask one for a favor. No one would be able to perform such an act without feeling embarrassed.

Although Harvey had intentionally created this face-slapping opportunity, Egnor had no intention of completely antagonizing these pure-bloods. With a calm expression, he said, “According to the garden’s regulations, you may apply for an exchange with plant seedlings of equal value.”

He was neither deliberately fawning nor intentionally difficult, which made him appear far more magnanimous than these pure-blood elves.

Windtalker was speechless for a moment. He cleared his throat before saying, “Very well. For now, the most important thing is how to control the Stone of Life. Once you can fulfill your promise and show us the more powerful Way of Nature, we can then discuss matters of equal exchange!”

After placing the Stone of Life in a box and handing it to Harvey, the Elves immediately bowed and took their leave. They had no intention of lingering in the “territory” of a mixed-blood. In any case, the time to fulfill the promise was a week from now. This period was perfect for them to obtain Harvey’s permission and freely sightsee in the areas surrounding Starfire City. Compared to the bustling, prosperous, and novel-filled city, they still preferred the wild yet vibrant wilderness.

After the Elves had departed, the Dwarf, Molten, walked up to Harvey with a broad smile, his tone somewhat urgent. “Your Majesty, please… please allow us free access to the public card and game rooms you’ve built in the city. By the Earth! The ‘Slay the Dragon’ card game you invented is just too much fun!”

It was all the fault of the Dwarven “exchange students” living in Starfire City who had introduced them to the cards. A group of Dwarves had stayed up all night in their hotel, shouting and playing cards, which naturally led to complaints and protests from the Elves. However, entry into the public card and game rooms required an identification card. This rule was originally meant to prohibit minors, but who would have thought it would also bar this group of “out-of-town card players.”

Chapter 528: Elemental Editing

A bitter wind howled, carrying flurries of snow and ice. The heating in Starfire City had been on for less than two weeks, but deep beneath Harvey’s castle, in his laboratory, the warm-water heating system embedded in the walls and floor had been activated early.

Even during the bright light of day, the light-emitting magic stones in the underground laboratory were kept at full luminosity. Aside from the dozens of defensive alchemical beasts standing silently along the walls, the only people in the vast subterranean space were Harvey, Chris, and Egnor.

“So…” Chris asked for the sixth time, “is this really going to work?” His incessant nagging made Harvey fight the urge to throw him out.

“We’ve barely even started,” Harvey said, straightening up with a sigh. He handed over the main console of the experimental station to Egnor. “This is just the first step, the elemental separation phase.”

The Stone of Life, which looked no different from any other cold pebble on a riverbank, was currently secured by a metal base and support brackets, resting quietly on the large, flat experimental table.

Beside it sat a solution rack packed with test tubes, all filled with the magical reducing agent Harvey had extracted from live Magic Spirits.

Egnor carefully picked up a test tube and used a glass aspirator to drip the diluted liquid onto the surface of the Stone of Life.

“Tsk… Logically, even a diluted reducing agent should be enough to cause a reaction in a magic stone with transformative properties,” Egnor said, scratching his head with his free hand. “Could it be that the variable is too low? We can’t just soak the entire stone in the reducing agent, can we?”

The three of them had conducted their fair share of pioneering experiments with the Magic Spirit extract in the past, but the results were never entirely satisfactory. The magical reducing agent was too unique; like the Stone of Life, its reduction process was irreversible. Once the reaction began… the end result was always the complete precipitation of all foreign impurities from the target object, leaving only the most primitive, pure magical energy of the Magic Net.

Therefore, repeatedly diluting the reducing agent with liquid magical energy and using the resulting solutions based on those dilution ratios had, paradoxically, produced miraculous effects—at least in the brewing of magical potions, it saved potion experimentalists a great deal of time waiting for chemical reactions.

“We’re starting from zero, increasing the dosage of the reducing agent little by little. If we were to use the undiluted, high-concentration extract right from the start and the Stone of Life just disintegrated… that would be a complete waste of the precious Heart of the Golden Tree and Earth Crystal Core.”

This was the only one he had, acquired through his personal reputation and a verbal promise. It wasn’t an inexhaustible resource.

Chris sighed and walked over to the equipment rack by the wall. With the help of an alchemical beast, he fitted a set of mechanical tentacles to his body. This was the second set of non-humanoid alchemical prosthetic limbs Harvey had created, after Rainer’s. They could be successfully attached to the human body via prosthetic connection points without causing any damage to the flesh itself. They were also relatively lighter and more flexible.

“Your Majesty, if we insist on using the reducing agent to alter the Stone of Life’s properties… our only option right now is the brute-force method, trying every single ratio…”

Seeing Chris’s action, Harvey nodded in resignation and walked over to a reclining chair to pick up a cup of hot tea.

It was slow and troublesome for three people and six hands to manage the operation. Letting Chris handle it alone with his “eight hands” was far more efficient. After all, the mechanical tentacles were alchemical constructs connected to his spinal nerves—a product of the Soul-stitching technique in a sense. Using them felt no different from his own limbs, giving him a sense of perfect control.

With the operating station completely yielded, Harvey and Egnor simply sat to the side with their hot tea, watching the octopus-like Chris stand energetically at the experimental table, rapidly completing the repetitive experimental procedures time and time again.

He could simultaneously handle the experimental operations, observe reactions, and take notes at any time.

As more and more of the diluted extract was dripped onto the Stone of Life’s surface with no reaction, the waste solution was drawn back up by the aspirator and channeled into a collection tank on the side.

Egnor’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach.

If they couldn’t precipitate the natural elements contained within the Stone of Life, they couldn’t deconstruct its internal conversion model. The bold promise he had made to the pure-blood elves would be broken, and it wasn’t just a matter of his personal reputation being ruined… it would also severely hinder the goals His Majesty Harvey wanted to achieve, obstructing the entire food production of Starfire City.

“This shouldn’t be happening… It can clearly absorb scattered pure magical energy from other planes and convert it through its own unique properties. If it can absorb, why can’t it release?”

The half-elf, forgetting to maintain any semblance of decorum in front of Harvey, dipped his slender finger into his teacup and began scribbling calculations on the clean, flat surface of the coffee table.

As Harvey watched this scene, an idea suddenly struck him.

“Wait! Chris, stop the operation!” he exclaimed, standing up abruptly. He walked over to the central connector and commanded an alchemical beast, “Connect me to the central energy-gathering array. I need to enter the Magic Net.”

Chris, whose work had been suddenly halted, looked bewildered. He instinctively exchanged a glance with Egnor, who was equally confused, before hurrying over to help Harvey with the Magic Net connection.

He put on the metal headset, and the Magic Net channel of the energy-gathering array opened in an instant…

The familiar sensation of the world spinning around him immediately set in, giving Harvey the comfortable illusion of being completely immersed in warm water. Ever since he had devoured and merged with the Magic Core, every entry into the Magic Net gave him a strange sense of peace and warmth, like a baby returning to its mother’s womb.

Just as he thought! Next to the anomalous magical runes, which were constantly expanding and contracting in an irregular pattern, a cluster of bluish-white energy floated quietly within the Magic Net space. In a large surrounding area webbed with energy conduits, the live Magic Spirits that Harvey had deliberately guided out of the conduits to serve as sentinels for the magical runes were swimming about freely. Yet, they deliberately skirted around the cluster of light hidden near the smaller conduits.

The Magic Spirits disliked this cluster of light, or rather, they were afraid of it. Harvey raised his hand and pointed, casually issuing a command for a Magic Spirit that had swum up to him to approach it. The Magic Spirit paused for a moment, then reluctantly propelled its large, tadpole-like head toward the light.

The next moment, the quietly floating cluster of light suddenly shot out a thin, luminous tendril, which swiftly and decisively latched onto the approaching Magic Spirit and began to slowly consume it at a visible rate.

Is it… hunting? Is this how the Stone of Life converts pure mana?

Merely waiting passively for Magic Spirits to approach would never be enough to absorb a large amount of mana. If Harvey hadn’t issued the command, with the way it was just lying in wait for the perfect opportunity, how many Magic Spirits could it possibly have absorbed?

Filled with doubt, Harvey once again extended his mental energy tentacles, trying to sense the Magic Spirit he had just sent to its “death.” To his surprise, he found that it was still alive. Although it had been absorbed into the cluster of light, it hadn’t been immediately fused or converted from its Magic Spirit form into natural elemental energy.

However, Harvey could clearly feel the Magic Spirit inside the cluster sending him signals—it was listless, expressing displeasure, pleading for release, and conveying a strange sense of helplessness.

The cluster of light representing the Stone of Life in the Magic Net wasn’t an instrument for converting the nature of energy… it was a cage and a trap for luring Magic Spirits!

Harvey was struck with a sudden realization. It relied on capturing and trapping Magic Spirits, forcing them to perform the “work” of converting mana in its place to generate natural elements!

No wonder this thing couldn’t control its own catalysis process. It turned out it wasn’t the one doing the work at all!

…

Harvey quickly disengaged from the Magic Net space and returned to the real world.

The moment he lifted the connection headset, he pushed himself up and laughed heartily. “I know what the core of the problem is!”

Their next experiment didn’t require “code programming” the Stone of Life. Instead, they needed to issue repetitive commands to the Magic Spirits held within it. The Stone of Life itself, in essence, was merely a hardware carrier!

Chapter 529: New Life

It was almost a week after their arrival in Starfire City when Windtalker and Molten met with Harvey again.

The experimental research on the Stone of Life was still slated to be conducted in the Alchemical Plant Garden managed by Egnor. This time, the pure-blood elves showed no curiosity toward the wide variety of unknown demonic plants in the garden. Compared to that, the half-elf’s confident promise made them far more eager to find an answer.

Could the Stone of Life truly be artificially controlled, becoming a powerful magic artifact for amplifying natural elements?

Once everyone had arrived, Harvey clapped his hands and cleared his throat. “Everyone, we’ve gathered here today to verify whether the improved Stone of Life can precisely control the process of accelerating and catalyzing plant growth…”

He glanced at Egnor, who immediately took a box containing the Stone of Life and walked over to a seedling patch surrounded by the crowd. With a steady hand, he opened the box and took out a perfect hemisphere that shimmered with a pearly white luster.

“This… is this the Stone of Life we made?” Windtalker’s eyes narrowed in disbelief. “That’s impossible! Once a Stone of Life solidifies, it never changes again. How did he alter its shape?”

Molten also frowned slightly, confused. “I can no longer sense the rich power of nature contained within the stone. Could it be that their frequent experiments during this time have completely depleted its stored elemental mana?”

Strictly speaking, after every high-intensity release of its catalytic, growth-accelerating abilities, the Stone of Life needed to enter a long dormant period. This was essentially to re-accumulate elemental mana by absorbing and converting pure mana from the Magic Net space.

But Harvey possessed a Planet-level Energy-gathering Array that could bridge two spatial planes and continuously draw pure magical energy from the Magic Net. If he wished, he could even keep the Stone of Life in a state of energy surplus twenty-four hours a day.

Egnor didn’t immediately respond to their questions. He walked to the side of the seedling patch on his own. The entire Alchemical Plant Garden was constructed from tarps made of rubber fruit stretched over a steel frame. The canopy was coated with a large amount of magical optical camouflage, giving it a nearly transparent appearance to let in light. This ensured the garden could receive ample sunlight while also achieving a greenhouse effect.

On the intersecting steel beams of the greenhouse ceiling, many small, multi-legged alchemical beasts scurried back and forth. They had always been good helpers for the researchers, responsible for carrying out many tedious cultivation and planting tasks in place of human labor.

Egnor gave a few alchemical beasts their work orders. They dragged over a grappling hook on a track from the ceiling, which held the pearly white, hemispherical Stone of Life firmly suspended in the air. Then, several long, thin energy conduits were connected… with their other ends extending directly into the ground. Beneath the plant garden was a dedicated energy-gathering array responsible for providing heating and lighting to the greenhouse interior. It also normally met the “wireless charging” needs of the numerous alchemical beasts.

“You intend to let the Stone of Life work on its own? How is that possible? It won’t react at all unless you hold it and activate it with natural mana…”

Before Windtalker could finish his question, Egnor decisively pulled the lever to charge the conduits. The infusion of mana was silent, but the dazzling light that erupted from the Stone of Life was impossible for anyone present to ignore.

An incredibly dense natural elemental energy instantly swept through the entire greenhouse. Although it was the dead of winter outside, with heavy snow falling, the plant garden was filled with a spring-like warmth and humidity, along with an indescribable, vibrant life force.

One of the pure-blood elves in the retinue suddenly lost his composure. It turned out he was holding a magic artifact made from a section of tree root. Now, under the assault of the Stone of Life’s energy, a cluster of tender green shoots had suddenly sprouted from the head of the staff. The artifact had been affected by the Stone of Life, creating an uncontrollable growth-accelerating resonance. This meant that the section of root would now instantly experience the process of sprouting, growing, flowering, and bearing fruit before finally withering, decaying, and returning to the earth as a pile of dust.

This was an inherent characteristic of the Stone of Life. It was only because his beloved magic artifact was being destroyed due to his carelessness that the elf momentarily lost his composure.

At the same time, an elderly dwarf cried out in pain, clutching his head. In Hollowhearth City, widowed dwarves who did not remarry would typically wear a crown of thorns to express their remembrance of their deceased partner. The withered crown of thorns on this elderly dwarf’s head suddenly began to revive and grow after being irradiated by the Stone of Life’s energy. Sharp thorns pierced his scalp, making him jump in pain.

Seeing the situation was getting slightly out of hand, Egnor decisively pulled the lever again. The charging of the thin conduits immediately ceased, and the light from the Stone of Life gradually faded, returning to its original gentle, pearly white state.

“Huh?” The elf raised his staff high, his expression excited as he stepped forward. “Its… its catalytic process was interrupted! It was… it was frozen in its sprouting state!”

Everyone’s gaze locked onto the section of tree root in his hand, and on the cluster of tender green shoots that had just sprouted from one end…

The dwarf winced as he took the crown of thorns from his head. He discovered that not only had many new shoots grown from the once-withered crown, but there were also several small, pure white flower buds. From a distance, it looked more like a white floral wreath… The elderly dwarf’s eyes reddened slightly, as if a memory had been stirred. He held the crown of thorns and flowers, then silently placed a hand on his chest and bowed to Egnor, who stood in the center of the crowd.

Seeing this, the dwarven leader, Molten, hurried forward and said with utmost sincerity, “Your Majesty… Master Egnor, I never expected you to completely decipher the secrets of the Stone of Life in such a short time and truly control its growth-catalyzing process. This has been a true eye-opener for us, and we are deeply astounded…”

The Dwarven race had always lived and thrived along the warm, humid southern coast. They had never really faced a crisis of food shortages. Therefore, they had no great desire for the Stone of Life. After all, in a place as fertile as Breath of the Hills, one could casually scatter a handful of seeds in early spring and reap a bountiful harvest by late summer.

The Burrowing Dwarves might have suffered from a lack of culture, but they had never suffered from hunger.

Compared to the dwarves, who were merely watching the spectacle, the feelings of the Elven race were far more complex. The half-elves they looked down upon had actually surpassed the pure-bloods in the Way of Nature, even succeeding in deciphering the ancient secrets of the Stone of Life…

If the catalytic growth process of the Stone of Life could truly be controlled, didn’t that mean… this growth-accelerating property could be applied to catalyzing the growth of the Golden Trees!

The moment this thought appeared in his mind, Windtalker found his breathing becoming uncontrollably rapid.

Compared to accelerating the growth of the Golden Trees on which they depended for survival, the humiliation of being surpassed by half-elves was nothing… Besides, the other party was indeed exceptionally capable, and after fulfilling their promise, they hadn’t chosen to verbally humiliate the pure-blood elves in return.

He took a deep breath and slowly walked up to Egnor, who had a complex expression on his face. With an elegant motion, he bowed slightly and placed a hand on his chest in a salute. “My past prejudices blinded me. Please forgive me… You truly have the makings of a sage. You have surpassed us in the study of the Way of Nature…”

Chapter 530: Harvest Number One

Not long after seeing off the Dwarves and Elves, Harvey received the long-awaited “Magic Net Express package.”

This was a batch of rare seeds he had ordered from the Joint Import-Export Company in advance, even before the Stone of Life manufacturing project began.

By the time Harvey arrived at the botanical garden with his personal guard, Egnor was already leading the Elven apprentices and researchers, busily moving the recently delivered sacks of seeds.

The Stone of Life had been named “Harvest Number One” and was permanently placed in the botanical garden’s potion laboratory. Its miraculous growth-accelerating abilities and controllable properties had Egnor completely captivated. He had been working almost sleeplessly, relying on it to complete many previously stalled experimental projects. Now, with the two great magical experimental divine weapons of “Catalysis” and “Reduction” in hand, he could finally, like Chris, fully unleash his talent and ambitions in magical botany and biology.

Seeing Harvey appear, Egnor immediately put down what he was doing, stepped forward, and bowed. “Your Majesty, the seeds have all arrived. We’ve checked them against the list we provided, and basically, nothing is missing.”

The seed list had been compiled jointly with the Agriculture Department; Harvey hadn’t been involved in its creation. “Oh? They actually managed to find them all? What kinds of seeds did they send?”

Egnor, showing none of the fastidiousness common among Elves, rubbed his hands together, squatted down to untie a burlap sack of seeds, and grabbed a handful of golden-yellow kernels. He said with a grin, “Take a look, Your Majesty. This is a specialty crop only found in the Breath of the Hills. The Dwarves call it foreign wheat.”

Harvey nodded, a complex expression on his face as he picked up a single kernel from Egnor’s hand. He sighed inwardly… Isn’t this just corn, the crop I was most familiar with in my past life?…

Corn yields should be much higher than wheat, but the Dwarves clearly didn’t understand fertilization or selective breeding. As a result, this kernel didn’t look particularly large or plump; it even seemed slightly shriveled from improper storage. Harvey could even picture the sparse kernels on the cob, making it no wonder that it had never been successfully popularized in human kingdoms.

But things were different now with the Stone of Life. As long as they could successfully modify the corn seeds into a cold-resistant crop, combined with its naturally fast growth and low soil requirements, it might soon replace enchanted wheat as the primary staple crop in the northern border regions.

Seeing Harvey lost in thought, Egnor quickly untied another sack and pulled out a fist-sized, oval-shaped root vegetable. “Your Majesty, you should recognize this one. The wild cassava commonly found in the barren lands belongs to the same family, but this is called a sweet potato.”

Harvey grunted in acknowledgment and took it… It was like a cross between a sweet potato and a taro, but it was quite small, with each one looking malnourished. It was a common wild plant along the southern coast, but people only resorted to gathering and eating it during times of famine and war.

After all, compared to the already widely cultivated potato, this thing was somewhat inferior in both taste and satiation… But its advantages were also noteworthy: it wasn’t picky about soil and was both drought- and cold-resistant. It could serve as a supplemental crop for mountainous regions, though it didn’t hold significant economic value.

Before Egnor could introduce another, Harvey’s sharp eyes spotted an open sack brimming with round beans. He rushed over, grabbed a handful, and exclaimed in pleasant surprise, “They got soybeans too?”

Egnor nodded. “Your Majesty even knows what it’s called. People from the west, however, prefer to call it Maidou. Not many people plant it… You can’t grind it into flour and bake it like wheat. Eating too much causes relentless diarrhea, or even poisoning…”

Harvey shook his head with a wry smile, thinking to himself that it was because soybeans contained saponins. It seemed the people of this world truly didn’t know how to enjoy such a high-quality, protein-rich crop. They judged all staple foods by whether they could be ground into flour and baked, so it was no surprise that severe famines broke out whenever natural disasters or wars occurred.

Soybeans could not only be widely cultivated as an oil crop but were also an excellent food source rich in plant-based protein. Various non-fermented processed soy products, like tofu, bean sprouts, and soy milk, were highly nutritious. When fermented, they could be made into delicious seasonings like various sauces and soy sauce.

The soybean meal left over after oil extraction was also a high-quality animal feed that could be widely used in livestock farming. Compared to feeding herds with old, stored wheat, the cost savings would be immense.

Of course, this wild variety of soybean would also need to be catalytically modified by the Stone of Life to make it a highly cold-resistant food crop, just like wheat and cassava.

Of the crop seeds brought back from the south, just corn and soybeans alone were enough to satisfy Harvey. Both could be modified and quickly put into large-scale cultivation. By next autumn at the latest, they would yield substantial returns.

“Are there any other crop seeds?” Harvey asked with a wry smile, watching Egnor rummage through the piles of sacks. “If they aren’t high-yield crops that can be cultivated on a large scale like corn and soybeans, we don’t need to pour too much effort into modifying them. Just keeping a few samples in the botanical garden will be fine.”

Harvey even saw the Elven apprentices pull out a bundle of wild grapevines, some cotton bolls that were a natural light brown, a brand-new variety of specialty tobacco from the west… and something that looked similar to the chili peppers of his past life. When he bit into one, full of joyful anticipation, he discovered it had the flavor and texture of a tomato. Harvey tearfully named it the “tomato-pepper.”

“Have the researchers and apprentices record and organize the cultivation methods and growth characteristics of each crop as quickly as possible.”

“Focus on the two staple crops, corn and soybeans. Have the Joint Import-Export Company continue to send any seeds they collect. Then, modify them into cold-resistant varieties as soon as possible and have the Agriculture Department set aside a test plot to plant them and see how they do.”

Egnor, holding a notebook and personally recording Harvey’s instructions, asked with some doubt, “Your Majesty, the Stone of Life… are we only going to use it for catalyzing and modifying food crop seeds? Isn’t that a bit…”

…a bit of a waste? Such a miraculous growth-accelerating device—if it were used to rapidly grow rare magic herbs, not only the Territory’s Infirmary and the Magic Potion Research Institute, but also high-end research departments like the Academy of Sciences and the Alchemy Laboratory would benefit immensely.

Harvey, of course, understood Egnor’s intention. He sighed and patted him on the shoulder. “I plan to use the first Stone of Life exclusively for catalyzing ordinary crops. After all, food is the foundation of our survival and development… But don’t be discouraged. The Elves and Dwarves now know we have mastered the technology to control the Stone of Life. If they want to trade for this technology… they will have to provide us with a continuous supply of the raw materials to make more Stones of Life—the Heart of the Golden Tree and the Earth Crystal Core.”

As long as the core technology remained in his hands, Harvey wasn’t worried at all that the development of the research departments would be restricted.

Chapter 531: Magically Altered Grain Seeds

Anbiki Kenny, the Minister of Agriculture who had only recently become a permanent employee, was urgently recalled to Starfire City from the South Slope Base by Harvey.

Only a few high-ranking officials from the General Municipal Office attended this sudden meeting; the rest of the participants were all junior staff from the Agriculture Department.

The meeting wasn’t held in Harvey’s castle, but was, for the first time ever, set up next to the Agriculture Department’s greenhouse test plots. The group of attendees who had arrived early had no choice but to stand by the greenhouse, huddling against the cold, conversing in low voices as they awaited the arrival of His Majesty, who would be presiding over the meeting.

Fortunately, the swirling snow didn’t hinder Harvey’s journey. He arrived in an alchemical vehicle in less than a quarter of an hour and, without a word, led everyone into the greenhouse.

Raising a hand to quiet the crowd, Harvey cleared his throat and said, “Today’s emergency meeting is of great significance, but let’s keep it brief… First, I’ll have Egnor from the Plant Research Institute introduce you to the new magically altered grain seeds we’ve recently developed.”

Egnor quickly stepped forward. With the help of researchers and apprentices, he uncovered an optical tarpaulin covering a test nursery bed. “Everyone, please look. These are the first green shoots catalyzed from the new grain seeds. We simulated the temperature and humidity of late winter and early spring in the greenhouse. After planting, the seeds successfully broke through the soil and sprouted in less than a week.”

Anbiki was stunned for a moment, then exclaimed, “The temperatures of late winter and early spring? The snow in the barren lands hasn’t even completely melted by then, and these new grain seeds can already sprout and grow?”

The spring planting season in the Northern Realm has always been nearly a month later than in the lands south of the Spine of the Gods Mountains. The main reason is that even with agricultural alchemical beasts capable of tilling frozen soil, the sown crop seeds cannot germinate at such low temperatures. The situation is slightly better in the Eastern Basin, where the climate is milder due to being surrounded by mountains… its spring planting can typically begin at the same time as in the south.

Egnor nodded and continued, “In addition, these new grain seeds have the advantages of a short growth cycle and a larger yield per plant. After repeated growth acceleration tests, the unit yield of the seeds in this test plot is double that of the old enchanted grain seeds. And they have also inherited the same resistance to cold and drought.”

The previous enchanted grain seeds were improved “by hand,” relying entirely on Egnor and the other half-elves casting nature-type spells. Not only was the seed supply limited, but the enchanting effect would also gradually fade over time. It could only barely meet the planting needs of Starfire City and the Eastern Expansion base, making it impossible to promote and cover the vast expanse of the south.

All the officials from the Agriculture Department gasped in unison. The agricultural official from Grizzly Bear Territory asked timidly, “We were already doing two harvests a year. If… if the growth cycle of the new seeds is even shorter, then… then wouldn’t that mean…”

“That’s right. The warmer the climate, the faster the growth cycle. With proper management… the southern regions could basically achieve three harvests a year.”

Among all the agricultural officials present who had returned from various regions to report on their duties, only the local official from Starfire City had the deepest understanding of the enchanted grain seeds. The state-run Farm in Starfire City and the Eastern Expansion base alone produced nearly one hundred thousand bushels of grain, which was already more than the total grain output of any major nation in the south. It was precisely because of the high yield of these enchanted seeds that Starfire City, a pioneering city isolated in the Northern Realm, could support a population of nearly one hundred thousand residents.

Seeing everyone’s excited expressions, Harvey quickly stepped in to pour cold water on their enthusiasm. “This new type of grain seed, named Harvest Number One, is not without its flaws. Don’t get too excited just yet. Listen to Egnor as he explains the details.”

Egnor had an apprentice bring over a bag of seeds. He then bent down, pulled a green shoot up by the roots, and began to explain patiently to the crowd, “Unlike the previous enchanted grain seeds, the mana contained within Harvest Number One seeds does not fade. From sprouting until it withers and rots, the mana must go through a complete cycle before it dissipates entirely. Therefore, the seed’s traits cannot be passed down; it can only be planted once. Furthermore, it must be harvested quickly at maturity. If you wait too long, you might end up with nothing at all.”

The officials immediately fell silent… This meant that every harvest would be a race against time. Without large-scale agricultural alchemical beasts, it would be impossible to accomplish with manpower alone. Moreover, the enchanted grain seeds were a one-time use product. Every year, new seeds would have to be obtained from the higher-level agricultural departments of the General Municipal Office. If seed reserves were tight… remote administrative regions might not be able to get any seeds for planting at all.

Harvey glanced around and saw that most of the officials from out of town looked nervous and anxious. He chuckled and added, “There’s no need to worry about the seed supply. Every year, when the work assignments for spring planting are issued, the Agriculture Department will definitely allocate a quantity of seeds to you equal to your task’s objective.”

The so-called disadvantage of not being able to save seeds for replanting was, in fact, a reasonable means of control for Starfire City. Once these high-yield, fast-growing seeds became widespread throughout St. Valen, all the ordinary wheat crops previously grown extensively would be quickly replaced. The municipal administrative bodies spread across the nation could then logically monopolize grain sales by controlling the seed supply. For Harvey, this was equivalent to directly controlling the entire nation’s population resources and labor flow.

The agricultural official from Fengyuan City carefully raised his hand. “Your… Your Majesty, the wheat grown from these magically catalyzed seeds… is it really safe for long-term human consumption?”

This was actually the issue that most officials from the south were most concerned about. After all, they hadn’t been under Harvey’s rule for very long and were fundamentally still unfamiliar with and fearful of Starfire City’s highly advanced applications of magical technology. When a Magical Energy Gun was pointed at their foreheads, they naturally didn’t dare to disobey. But now that they were all on the same great ship, quite a few responsible officials were emerging who were beginning to become aware of “food safety” issues.

Harvey was actually very pleased with their doubts and concerns. It served as proof that the new era of officials he had personally selected were completely different from the old nobles of the past.

“There’s no need to worry. All of the enchanted grain seeds—whether it’s the most common wheat and barley, or the soybeans, corn, and sweet potatoes that will need to be mandatorily promoted later—are no different in essence from ordinary crops,” Harvey explained patiently. “The mana only serves to catalyze and accelerate growth. The mature product itself contains no mana. The bread, pancakes, and wheat porridge that nearly one hundred thousand people in Starfire City eat every day, the processed foods continuously shipped to various parts of the south… are actually all products of enchanted grain seeds.”

In this unenlightened otherworld where nearly half the population still couldn’t get enough to eat, they had no right to consider the pros and cons of natural versus genetically modified foods. Helping those struggling on the brink of starvation and poverty to survive was the most important and meaningful thing.

Besides, these officials of common birth couldn’t possibly understand the so-called morphological changes of mana or the growth catalysis that natural elements had on plants, let alone comprehend a detailed explanation of how the Stone of Life continuously enchanted the seeds and solidified their mana through “magic programming.”

So he simply resorted to a simplified, crude explanation: 【If they look like ordinary grain and taste like ordinary grain, then there is no difference】 and 【One hundred thousand people in Starfire City are eating it without any problems, I eat it myself without any problems】. The massive number of real-life cases before them was the best proof.

Chapter 532: Stockpiling Grain

Seeing that the officials no longer had doubts about the food safety of the Magically Altered Grain Seeds, Harvey paused for a moment before continuing, “As I just said, the amount of seeds allocated to you will correspond to the planting quotas assigned each year. Likewise, the agricultural machinery and technical personnel to assist you in planting and production will also be dispatched to each region. As long as you take this matter seriously enough, I believe the vast majority of you won’t end up like before, suffering the penalty of probation or direct demotion for failing to meet your quotas.”

The agriculture officials from Fengyuan City and Grizzly Bear Territory couldn’t help but shiver. The chief administrators of both territories, vassal nobles led by Earl Fegan, had been placed on probation for failing to meet their production targets in previous years. And that was Harvey going easy on them, taking certain unavoidable factors into account.

“In addition,” Harvey added, “all grain transactions in every region must be strictly controlled. No individual is permitted to sell grain privately. Even for land not yet nationalized, ordinary grain grown by farm owners or freeman farmers must be sold to City Hall as a priority. It is strictly forbidden to sell to foreign grain merchants who enter our borders. Not a single grain of wheat is to cross the border!”

Of course, if the farm owners and freeman farmers strictly followed the regulations, Harvey would naturally allocate Magically Altered Grain Seeds to them on a discretionary basis, allowing these private producers to also enjoy the benefits of high-yield cultivation.

An official from the treasury department mulled this over for a moment, then asked with some confusion, “Your Majesty, if the yield of Harvest Number One truly doubles as you say, it will be more than enough to feed our entire population. If we also distribute the seeds for private cultivation and purchase all the surplus with no foreign sales allowed, our treasury will be under immense pressure, unless the gold yuan banknotes…”

Harvey held up a hand, interrupting him. “The issue of currency unification will be discussed after my official coronation,” he said decisively. “But the ban on grain exports must be implemented immediately. Apart from the processed food export orders previously signed by Starfire City, neither City Hall nor private individuals are permitted to sell any more of our nation’s grain to foreign merchant guilds. The specific laws and decrees have already been drafted. If you don’t understand, you can go to the Justice Department later for a detailed explanation.”

As the officials began to murmur amongst themselves again about the grain embargo regulations, Anbiki Kenny leaned in close to Harvey’s ear and whispered, “Your Majesty, if we hadn’t rushed to build new granaries after this year’s autumn harvest, we nearly wouldn’t have had enough space to store all the grain… We still need to continue purchasing from the private sector, and with Harvest Number One’s yield being double, I’m afraid the storage pressure will be immense… Besides, we’re growing so much grain that we can’t possibly eat it all. Is it really necessary?”

In his view, the Agriculture Department should be shifting its focus to developing cash crops and animal husbandry. This would not only satisfy domestic consumption but also allow for large-scale exports, earning “foreign exchange earnings” in the form of real gold and silver.

Harvey clapped him on the shoulder and smiled. “Then we’ll just keep building granaries. And not just in Starfire City. Build them in Grizzly Keep, Fengyuan City, and Goldshine City too. Store all this surplus grain inside them.”

The Shepherd Knight was slightly taken aback. “Store all of it?”

“That’s right. This is all in preparation for the coming war against the non-human races.” Harvey’s expression turned serious. “You are one of the high-ranking officials privy to this information. You should be able to understand the true intentions of myself and the General Municipal Office.”

Anbiki’s face grew solemn. He bowed deeply to Harvey, no longer trying to sell His Majesty on his revenue-generating plan of economic animal husbandry.

Among the officials present, both high and low, the vast majority were born in an era of peace, one that had not experienced a non-human invasion. Although political strife and conquest between nobles were constant, these were never brutal wars of extermination. While they had been taught the terrible truth of the non-human race’s invasion, and had even been arranged by City Hall to line up and witness specimens and live captives of the Demonic Lizardmen, as if they were tourists viewing ‘aliens,’ they had yet to develop a collective sense of vigilance in this time of peace.

This was entirely due to a kind of blind confidence in Harvey and the power of Starfire City. A massive army that was absolutely loyal and incredibly strong, revolutionary magical weapons, and tens of thousands of alchemical beasts that could also be deployed on the battlefield for auxiliary combat… If he so wished, the power Harvey commanded could easily sweep through the central kingdoms of the south and even lay siege to the Holy City of Goris.

Distant non-human races from the north? Demonic Lizardmen?

They were merely new targets to add to the Northern Army’s list of victories.

…

But Harvey was different. As a Transmigrator, he too had been born in an age of peace, but the history of his previous life taught him what could happen to a vast nation and its people during a protracted, brutal war. Therefore, he could only follow the lessons of history and make war preparations in advance.

The worst-case scenario Harvey could imagine was the Spine of the Continent Mountains, a defensive line regarded by humans as an impenetrable barrier, being breached and riddled with holes. The Demonic Lizardmen, leading Demons and vile orcs, would invade the south with unstoppable momentum, engulfing the entire region in the flames of war within three months.

When that time came, he dared to say that aside from the City of Magic, Araye, and his own St. Valen, no other country would be able to withstand an invasion of that magnitude. The population he valued so dearly would be rapidly decimated. Even if St. Valen allied with Araye and the seven wizard kingdoms to establish a unified front and shelter the populace, it would still lead to the abandonment of vast swathes of farmland in the south. Without enough grain reserves to sustain hundreds of thousands of people for two or three years, the human kingdoms would quickly collapse, and the so-called united front would fall apart without a fight.

Grains with husks, like wheat, could now be stored for nearly five years, thanks to the advanced subterranean storage technology introduced from the Burrowing Dwarves of Breath of the Hills. Although the taste and texture would become extremely poor, at least it would ensure people could eat their fill.

As for corn, soybeans, and sweet potatoes, which had a relatively shorter shelf life, they would be gradually promoted as supplementary food crops for immediate production and consumption. In particular, a sufficient supply of soybeans for feed could also support the simultaneous development of the livestock industry, making them an incredibly important cash crop, just like sugar and salt crops.

Most of the officials Harvey had summoned to the greenhouse test plot today were high-level personnel aware of the non-human invasion crisis. Without Harvey having to spell it out, many of them slowly began to understand the implications—the grain embargo, official procurement, new grain varieties, and mass construction of granaries… all of it was part of a war preparations plan His Majesty had established long in advance to face the coming war!

On a matter that concerned the very survival of their people and their own vested interests, no one dared to stand up and raise objections. These officials, hailing from minor noble or commoner backgrounds, might have been unfulfilled in the past, but they were not foolish or shortsighted people without ideals and ambitions. Now that they had gained a certain degree of power by attaching themselves to and pledging fealty to Harvey, they were naturally tied to the same boat and began to wholeheartedly offer their own ideas and strategies.

“Your Majesty, we can promote Harvest Number One wheat seeds on a limited basis in the plains. For areas with more mountains and hills, like Grizzly Bear Territory, we can then consider introducing corn and sweet potatoes.”

“Indeed. I suggest mixed planting of soybeans and wheat in the Goldshine City area. The canals and irrigation systems built by the old nobles in the past can fully support large-scale cultivation.”

Astaren and Durt conferred quietly for a moment before also offering a suggestion to Harvey: “Your Majesty, we hope to establish agricultural studies courses in both the public academies and the Spellcaster Academy. This way, both ordinary commoner students and nature-type spellcasters can learn and master agricultural techniques and methods.”

This was a plan that Astaren and Durt had been trying to push for some time. The plan was to take the Spellcasters that Starfire City had cultivated and, through the fusion of disciplines, transform them into practical “magical science and engineering” talent, completely shattering the old tradition of Spellcasters being aloof figures who focused only on themselves.

Arturo, the Dean of the Academy of Sciences, was not present at the meeting today, but Harvey believed he had likely contributed a great deal to this matter—compared to the more orthodox factions of Spellcasters, Necromancers were probably the ones most eager to break with tradition and achieve equality of ideas.

Harvey nodded meaningfully and smiled. “An excellent suggestion. But it, too, will have to wait for discussion… after my official coronation.”

Chapter 533: Ascension and Coronation

Almost a month after the Winter Festival and military parade ended, the coronation ceremony of the new king of the Duchy of St. Valen and the Northern Barren Lands finally began in the coldest part of deep winter.

Starfire City had been quietly preparing all winter for this unprecedented ceremony. The Lord’s Castle District, where Harvey usually lived, had also been formally designated as the Central Royal Palace District after nearly half a year of renovations by the Construction Department. Although the castle itself had not been renovated or expanded at His Majesty’s strong request, the King’s Square in front of it had been completely renewed, large enough to accommodate several thousand people attending the ceremony at once.

The Central Royal Palace District was also fully opened during the celebration. A large number of patrols and mechanical guards were responsible for maintaining order and directing the flow of people in the palace district. Several thousand original inhabitants of the pioneer territories, holding “first-generation identification cards,” were fortunate enough to receive the honor of attending and watching the ceremony in person. Many people arrived before dawn, dressed in their finest attire, and gathered in the King’s Square, craning their necks in anticipation and excitedly awaiting the arrival of the coronation ceremony.

For the barren landers, this was the first king to appear on the bitter, cold lands where they had lived for thousands of years… No, an Emperor. The vast barren lands north of the Spine of the Continent Mountains were simply too immense, so much so that no powerful nation in the south could compare with it in terms of land area. A ruler with the power to expand territories and protect his people in such a savage land was naturally different from the southern royalty who relied on bloodline marriages and inherited investitures to continue their rule.

Only the Pope in the Holy City of Goris, who claimed his radiance extended everywhere and that he ruled all nations on behalf of the gods, possessed the title of “Emperor,” which could match the status of the great monarch in their hearts.

Thus, petitions requesting Harvey to take the title of Emperor at his coronation ceremony flooded into the castle office study like snowflakes. City Hall received countless letters, and many officials of barren lander origin openly expressed their political stance without hesitation—the title of Emperor of the Northern Realm should take precedence over the throne of the Grand Duke of St. Valen.

Although the Intelligence Department’s clandestine encouragement played a part in this, the enthusiastic public response was truly somewhat unexpected. Even many people originally from the south privately thought it was reasonable, seeming to have completely forgotten that since the rise of the glorious faith, the Humans of the south had only ever had one “Emperor,” the one in the Holy City of Goris.

The sky was still filled with large, heavy snowflakes. Long banners with gold borders on a black background hung from the towering outer walls of the castle. Several thick, long steel cables held more than ten airships that had risen halfway into the sky. The surfaces of the airships’ massive gasbags were also painted with an emblem of a castle silhouette encircled by crossed lances and a golden star. It was exceptionally eye-catching even during the snowy day, visible to nearly everyone in the city.

The castle terrace that Harvey usually used for public speeches was now adorned and surrounded by countless greenhouse flowers from the botanical garden. Two alchemical beast guards, each over three meters tall, had been specially painted gold and stood solemnly on either side of the terrace. Without a doubt, everyone knew that their Majesty would complete his coronation ceremony here.

“Your Majesty? Your Majesty…” Captain of the Guard Tommy urged in a low voice, “Are you ready? Rainer and Mr. Astaren are waiting at the end of the corridor. The officials, ministers, and foreign guests have all gathered in the first-floor assembly hall, waiting for you.”

“Yes, I know.” Harvey replied softly, walking to a full-length mirror to examine his attire again. It was still the same outfit with a strong local style that he had worn on the day of Starfire City’s founding, only now he held a short scepter and a palm-sized, three-dimensional square golden seal.

According to Astaren, Arturo, and the others, who were originally wizards from noble backgrounds, a Grand Duke or King invested by the Pope only needed to wear a crown at their coronation ceremony. But if the Pope himself was being crowned, he also needed to hold an Imperial Seal symbolizing dominion over all nations to reflect the difference in status between an “Emperor” and a secular king.

But considering Harvey was a Spellcaster by origin, and disdained the Holy See’s investiture and lacked the support of a royal bloodline, to highlight his equally noble status as a Spellcaster, he naturally needed an additional “Scepter of Truth” to symbolize his wisdom in pursuing truth and mastering magic.

This resulted in Harvey being laden with a unique combination of regalia for this unprecedented ceremony. And since it was groundbreaking anyway, with no one daring to openly stand up and object, they were naturally free to do as they pleased.

Pushing open the doors of his living room, Harvey slowly walked through the corridor to the end of the downward staircase. Two tall alchemical constructs of intermingled brass and brilliant silver stood there silently. It was Rainer and Astaren.

The two alchemical constructs he had created with his own hands didn’t say much. As the soul fire in their eyes flickered, they knelt on one knee before Harvey in unison. Each took the Scepter of Truth and the Imperial Seal from Harvey’s hands respectively. Holding them solemnly, they turned and proceeded downstairs.

As soon as he descended the stairs and entered the grand hall, the spacious hall, previously buzzing with voices, fell silent in an instant. Most people voluntarily lowered their heads and placed a hand on their chest to bow, respectfully welcoming the arrival of their Majesty.

Only Pierce, standing like a javelin at the foot of the stairs, held his head high, his gaze firm and fervent as he watched Harvey’s slow descent. His right hand, loosely gripping the hilt of the commander’s side sword at his waist, was visibly trembling slightly with emotion.

The crowd automatically parted into two rows, clearing a path for Harvey. On the left were the officials of the Starfire City General Municipal Office, led by Rainer. Below them were the important functional departments such as the Alchemy Laboratory, the Academy of Sciences, and the Police Department.

On the right were representatives of the military officer corps. Except for Wayne and Dav, who were on an expedition to Isengard and could not return, almost all high-ranking officers in the entire Military Command system, from Pierce down, were present. The Northern Army, the Defense Force, the General Staff Headquarters… even the naval officers of the “Ice Sea Fleet,” which Harvey had personally established as an independent branch, were also in attendance, dressed in dark blue uniforms.

According to the customs of the nations of the south, a king’s ascension and coronation ceremony was originally a very complex and tedious process. Many kings and grand dukes even had to travel to the Holy City to await the Pope’s investiture and approval to be considered legitimate heirs to the throne. But for the Northern Realm and St. Valen, Harvey’s rule was already an indisputable fact; there was no need to seek any other approval. So the entire ceremony was drastically simplified and modified.

Harvey walked straight through the crowd, ascended the steps, and went to the throne at the head of the great hall. A glittering golden crown rested on the throne. There was no master of ceremonies to guide and assist him, nor were there any Church Priests to perform the act for him.

Harvey bent down, lifted the crown with both hands, and placed it directly on his own head. Then he turned and took back the Imperial Seal and the Scepter of Truth from Rainer and Astaren.

Pierce stood at the foot of the steps, drew his commander’s side sword with a shing, and shouted in a clear voice, “Long live His Imperial Majesty!”

Everyone knelt on one knee in unison. “Long live His Imperial Majesty!”

Amidst the unified shouts of the crowd, Harvey did not immediately sit on the throne. Instead, holding the scepter and seal, he walked out onto the second-floor garden terrace of the castle, escorted by several high-ranking officials and key ministers.

On the King’s Square below the castle, a deafening roar of cheers erupted!

Dozens of ceremonial cannons set up in the castle’s rear garden fired at the perfect moment. The booming sound echoed across the sky.

Harvey raised both hands, gesturing to the crowd that had come to watch. And the people, who had been waiting in the square for a long time, fully unleashed their pent-up excitement.

“Long live His Imperial Majesty!”

“Long live His Majesty Harvey!”

“Long live the Northern Realm!”

“Long live Starfire City!”

The cheers, mixed with the continuous roar of the cannons, soared into the sky; even the distant mountains seemed to tremble and echo in response. The cold wind swirled with snowflakes, sweeping the flowers and ribbons decorating the castle terrace down onto the square, causing countless people to leap up and scramble for them, as if in doing so, they could forever capture the blessings and glory of this day’s celebration.

On the magnificent city walls that encircled Starfire City, stretching as far as the eye could see, the boom of cannons sounded at regular intervals. The ceremonial music played in unison by the military band mingled with the ringing of bells from squares all over the city, transmitted through countless alchemical amplifiers to every corner of this vast city of one hundred thousand people.

It was an official announcement to all its people—the Northern Realm had its first Emperor.

Chapter 534: The Emperor’s Gift

The Scorching Sovereign, Kemer Salas, sighed with a mix of emotions as he closed the crystal screen of his Magic Brain device. He turned to one of his fellow Chiefs, the “Spirit Snatcher” Sorun Dawson, and remarked, “He has officially announced his ascension and coronation in the Northern Realm… The news came from the Federation’s Goldshine City branch half an hour ago.”

Dawson rubbed his red, brandy nose and said worriedly, “So soon? I thought he would wait until he had completely wiped out all the Church’s forces in the central region of the south before choosing to…”

“The agent is no fool. Don’t forget who’s backing him…” Salas shook his head, cutting Dawson off. “Do you really think he doesn’t know that we’re using him to weaken the Church’s influence for the Federation?”

Seeing Dawson fall silent, Salas continued, “Fortunately, we have always followed the principle of equivalent exchange and never let him suffer a one-sided loss in any matter. As long as our relationship doesn’t sour, his existence will always be all benefit and no harm to us.”

The figure of the “Shadow Knight” Gallagher appeared eerily in the silver full-length mirror standing to the side. “This young Spellcaster who just ascended the throne and calls himself Emperor, the real-world agent of the Magic Net Forum… his rise has been far too quick…”

Four or five years ago, he was just a low-rank Mage at some necromancy academy in St. Valen. Then, seemingly overnight, for some unknown reason and by some unknown means, he was suddenly invited to join the Magic Net Forum alongside them as a high-level caster… and was quickly chosen by the mysterious entity behind the Forum to be its sole agent in the real world.

Since then, his development had been astonishing, almost like something out of a fairy tale. Not only could he, a research-focused Spellcaster, frontally defeat a high-level battle mage of the same rank, but he also single-handedly invented several unprecedented high-circle spells… The “Gun of Annihilation” he developed helped the Federation directly turn the tide of the war, not only driving the Demons back north of the Evil Moon Mountain Range but even leading to the fall of their central frontline fortress.

If Salas hadn’t possessed a strange and unique detection spell and used it to secretly scan him multiple times when they first met in Araye, they would have suspected Harvey’s body and soul had been seized by some ancient demon or extra-dimensional monster, turning him into a puppet controlled in the real world.

His various actions and style were indeed completely different from any other independent Spellcaster, making him utterly inscrutable. As an independent Spellcaster, he was surprisingly keen on throwing himself into secular power struggles. Not only did he forge a new path by heading to the Northern Realm to develop the barren lands, but he actually managed to establish a foothold in the perilous wilderness and expand with great speed, to the point where he now possessed the terrifying power to counter-attack the south and take control of all of St. Valen.

“Judging solely from his attitude and actions toward the people under his rule, you can tell he hasn’t betrayed his own kind or sold his soul or anything else to some entity in exchange for the power to grow.” The more Salas spoke, the more ridiculous he found it. “Take his coronation ceremony, for example. Tell me… what king of the Human race has ever established his capital in the barren lands north of the Spine of the Continent Mountains, and insisted on being crowned in the depths of a raging winter?”

Dawson interjected irritably, “What’s so strange about that? The fellow is just showing off… showing off that even in a Northern Realm winter, not a single one of his subjects will die of cold or starvation, and can even joyfully sing and dance at his coronation… Salas, he’s far more arrogant than you were in your youth.”

Gallagher frowned and said in a low voice, “His actions, and his subsequent arrangements… they make me believe more and more that the ancient rumors of an invasion by the northern non-human races are probably about to come true!”

Before Salas and Dawson could respond, several figures suddenly appeared at the entrance of the subterranean mine cavern. A few high-rank members of the Federation were using flight spells, descending rapidly from the surface into the depths of the mine to reach the core area where Salas resided in seclusion.

Dawson stood up, displeased, and admonished them, “You know full well this place has been completely sealed off to become the Chief’s private sanctuary! And yet you enter so openly from the surface. Are you afraid the Church’s spies hiding in Araye won’t find any clues?”

The news that the Chief’s physical body was trapped underground after his disappearance and escape was known only to a small number of high-ranking officials within the Federation. Furthermore, he could normally use a wandering soul technique to briefly manifest an avatar in the Celestial Domain, so for a long time, not many people had noticed anything amiss.

But the mine was, after all, located in the outskirts of the City of Magic. If word that Salas was here were to leak, no one could guarantee that the Church wouldn’t dare to risk a scorched-earth tactic, dispatching large numbers of Demon Slayers and high-rank Priests to launch a simultaneous assault on both the Magic Net and real-world planes.

The leader of the group was Fran Macaulay, the “Spellshield,” known for his steady disposition. The high-rank mages accompanying him were all trusted colleagues from the Department of Magical Affairs who shared his views.

“The three Chiefs… huff… huff…” Macaulay was uncharacteristically flustered. During his high-speed flight, he had clearly pushed his mana repeatedly, boosting his speed without regard for consumption, which was why he couldn’t even maintain steady breathing after landing.

His deputies were clearly in worse shape, their mana reserves far lower than his. Many of them turned pale the moment they landed, looking utterly drained of mana and mentally exhausted. Though Dawson’s words were harsh, his actions betrayed his concern… He immediately used his vast mental energy to draw the ambient mana from the mine and guide it toward the group, accelerating their recovery.

Macaulay was the first to compose himself. He bowed respectfully and said with a grave expression, “Chiefs… Mr. Kel’Thuzad… he suddenly used the Magic Net teleportation array to send me… send me a frozen, live specimen of a non-human!”

“What?” Salas didn’t understand. “A frozen non-human? What kind? What does he mean?”

“Has he developed a new Anti-Demon weapon?” Gallagher grew excited on the other side of the silver mirror, even standing up and pressing himself against the glass, as if he were about to step through it into the real world.

The Spellshield shook his head, his voice trembling as if recalling the fear and shock of receiving the object. “Not a Demon… not any non-human race we know of! Mr. Kel’Thuzad’s accompanying message said… he said this was something he captured in the far north, in the ice sea thousands of miles away—a non-human from the continental heartland!”

Dawson took a sharp step forward. Several invisible hands suddenly seized the high-rank mages by their collars and lifted them into the air. This was clearly no ordinary Mage Hand; at the very least, a caster of the Spellshield’s caliber was unable to break free from the restraint immediately.

“What nonsense are you spouting? The far north, thousands of miles away? A captured non-human?” Dawson’s voice grew quieter as he questioned them, until he finally seemed to choose to believe. “It’s true. The ancient rumors of the non-humans are true… To verify them, he actually traveled thousands of miles, and he really caught a live specimen.”

Salas suddenly felt that something was wrong. In a low voice, he asked, “Why did he choose to send the live specimen to you? For you to then inform us?”

The Spellshield faltered for a moment, then stammered, “Chief, I acted on my own initiative… Mr. Kel’Thuzad originally intended for me to take the live specimen and, through the Department of Magical Affairs, release the information publicly to the entire Federation. But I was worried… I was worried…”

Gallagher tapped a few times on the mirror’s surface and said grimly, “You did the right thing. The agent clearly intended to bypass the three of us and give the faction-ridden, internally conflicted Federation a strong dose of medicine. Heh… a crude but indeed effective method.”

Salas let out a long sigh, lamenting, “But this would also directly intensify the Federation’s internal conflicts, perhaps even leading to an irreversible schism… Maybe the agent wants to see such an outcome. On the ruins of a fractured Federation, he wants to build a new, unified [New Federation] to fight the non-human invasion!”

Chapter 535: Mind Invasion

In the Chief’s private laboratory, located on the top floor of the Celestial Domain, the frozen live non-human specimen was delivered in silence.

Fran Macaulay, “the Spellshield,” paced back and forth anxiously until Chief Lord Dawson successfully cast the wandering soul technique, guiding Salas’s avatar to descend into the laboratory.

The tall figure of “the Scorching Sovereign” gradually materialized, his body solidifying from an ethereal form. A wide Chief’s robe enveloped his entire body. If no one deliberately used a detection spell to probe him, no one would ever discover that he was moving freely within the Celestial Domain’s Mage Tower as a projected avatar.

“Besides those of us present, no one else knows about the live non-human specimen, correct?”

Dawson rubbed his nose and muttered, “There shouldn’t be. There aren’t many members in the conservative faction of the Department of Magical Affairs to begin with, and most of them have been pushed into fringe positions by this fellow Macaulay. They rarely even get the chance to return to the Celestial Domain.”

At these words, the Spellshield lowered his head in embarrassment—after all, Dawson was the nominal spiritual leader of the conservative faction. It was just that, compared to the department heads below who held real power, he, as the Chief, prioritized the overall interests of the Federation most of the time. His stance was not entirely biased toward the conservatives, and he would certainly never choose to collude with the Church just to suppress other factions.

The massive, pupil-less face of Tower Spirit Enzo slowly emerged on the ceiling, chuckling in a strange tone. “Rest assured, I personally transported the live specimen to the top of the tower. No one would dare try to intercept it… However, the moment it arrived at the Department of Affairs, it was already being secretly watched by several groups.”

The Spellshield tensed and quickly asked, “Your Excellency Enzo, were they internal personnel from the Department? But the sealed container for the live specimen wasn’t opened, was it?”

Enzo’s ethereal face contorted slightly as he said slowly, “The Sealing Magic Contract personally affixed by the Minister would naturally not be opened so easily… I just wanted to remind you that everything sent from the Northern Realm always attracts a high degree of attention from certain people.”

Seeing Enzo still rambling on, Dawson spoke impatiently, “Alright, now is not the time to discuss internal strife. Enzo, seal the tower-top laboratory. We’re opening the container immediately!”

He turned to look at Salas, who was standing by in silence, then raised a hand and pointed. The massive sealed container on the lab bench was silently dismantled. The fragments of the container, along with the Sealing Magic Contract attached to it, disintegrated in an instant, turning into a pile of dust that drifted to the floor.

Salas’s eyes narrowed, his breathing suddenly quickening. His avatar flickered and appeared beside the lab bench, staring at the frozen live specimen lying quietly on the surface.

“This is indeed a type of non-human creature never seen before, although its form and limbs are extremely similar to us Humans…”

The Spellshield recalled the “user manual” for the live specimen that Harvey had sent along with the cargo. He quickly walked over to a Magic Brain device, retrieved the file from his Forum account, and requested that the two Chiefs review it.

A cough tinged with displeasure suddenly came from the corner. The Spellshield froze for a moment, then turned to see Lord Gallagher, who had appeared at some point in that familiar silver full-length mirror, staring at him with a grim expression… Taking the hint, the Minister of Magic immediately stepped forward and moved the mirror to the spot closest to the lab bench and the Magic Brain device.

“Tsk, tsk, that Kel’Thuzad! To think he ambushed a non-human outpost in the far-northern ice sea, captured three live specimens, and has already dissected the other two…” Dawson rubbed his nose, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. “The data from his dissection experiments is already extremely detailed. Even if we repeat the verification, we won’t get much more information. Did he really send a live specimen over just to reveal a historical truth and warn the Federation’s inner circle?”

Gallagher pressed himself against the mirror with a complete lack of decorum, frowning as he said in a deep voice, “I must contact the Agent separately and find a way to obtain the video footage of their direct combat with these Demonic Lizardmen. Based on the written descriptions alone, these non-humans are strange enough… Their bodies are magic-resistant, they can conjure and telekinetically control black water weapons at will, and they themselves possess no detectable mana fluctuations.”

In every way, they seemed like combat units naturally designed to counter Spellcasters, which put Gallagher, the commander of the Federation’s Mage Corps, on high alert.

Salas, who had been silent all this time, suddenly spoke up. “But under the Agent’s mortal army, they seemed rather powerless. This means that magical weapons similar to the Gun of Annihilation are effective at countering these enemies.”

The Spellshield quietly explained, “Mr. Kel’Thuzad didn’t deploy a mortal army, but rather his own Bloodline Warriors. I’ve heard they are all high-rank awakened individuals, which would place their combat strength on par with our elite Mage Corps.”

Gallagher’s expression turned grim. “All the more reason to find out how they fight…”

Before he could finish, the Magic Brain device beeped, signaling a new private message. It was a message Kel’Thuzad had sent simultaneously to all three Chiefs.

[Kel’Thuzad: Your Excellencies, the three Chiefs, I presume Mr. Spellshield has already informed you about the live non-human specimen. Please, do not use that live specimen for dissection experiments just yet. I have a more important matter that requires your assistance.]

Dawson shot Fran a look, gesturing for him to sit obediently before the Magic Brain device and act as the typist for the three of them.

[Fran: We just brought the live specimen to the laboratory, but your initial experimental data is already sufficiently detailed. We were just discussing what other valuable information we could possibly extract from it…]

[Kel’Thuzad: On a purely physical level, the Demonic Lizardmen’s flesh-and-blood shell indeed has no more intelligence to offer. However, we have yet to successfully decipher this race’s language, writing, or method of communication. This means that our understanding of these non-humans remains superficial.]

Impatiently, Dawson poked Fran with a finger and said brusquely, “Tell him to get to the point! How does he need us to cooperate?”

Fran steeled himself and typed furiously…

[Kel’Thuzad: First, I need Chief Gallagher to send someone deep into the Spine of the Continent Mountains north of the Western Realm. By whatever means necessary… try to bypass the Demon-controlled territory and explore toward the far north. Ordinary Spellcasters skilled in flight spells may not be able to accomplish this easily, but I will provide you with some flight vehicles. You will only need to add some colleagues skilled in stealth spells to the exploration party to ensure the safety of the mission.]

Gallagher excitedly tapped the mirror’s surface twice with his finger. “A clever proposal! He wants us to advance from the west to see if traces of these Demonic Lizardmen also appear in the ice sea north of the western front. From that, we can deduce their likely primary invasion route.”

Salas turned to the mirror and said, “Bypassing the Demon defensive lines and controlled territory is extremely risky… Are your people capable of doing it?”

Gallagher pondered for a moment before nodding. “Rest assured, my high-rank battle mages have long since turned the Demon defensive lines north of the Evil Moon Mountain Range into a sieve. If the Agent can also provide a few of his Airships, it would be a tremendous boost to the exploration.”

[Kel’Thuzad: My second request is for Lord Dawson… The Demonic Lizardmen lack the talent to manipulate mana, so the Magic Net can detect no corresponding magical runes or bloodline cores. To extract their mental energy or memories for interpretation, the best method… would be for Lord Dawson to use his Soul Siphon, implementing a deep parasitic possession with a Curse Seed. Then, while it’s in a state of mental weakening upon being awakened, launch an instantaneous mind invasion…]

Performing a mind invasion on a non-human you couldn’t communicate with at all was an insanely risky venture… Fran could only feel cold sweat beading on his forehead and back. His hands hovered over the Magic Brain device’s keyboard, at a complete loss. Mr. Harvey was far too bold, asking a Legendary Chief to conduct such a dangerous mind invasion experiment for him!

Dawson, however, was not the least bit offended. He rubbed his red, brandy nose and chuckled. “The kid’s got some sense. He knows that with his high-rank strength, performing a mind invasion is far too dangerous, but for a Legendary Caster, it’s not that difficult…”

The only danger of a mind invasion was the risk of getting lost in the target’s collective sea of consciousness, which was connected to its entire race. But if Dawson were to perform it, he could use a clever method to sever the target’s thoughts and memories from that sea of consciousness, turning the turbulent, profound ocean into a swimming pool in his own backyard.

It would allow him to swim through it as he pleased!

Chapter 536: Roaming the Abyss

Sorun Dawson opened his eyes, vaulting out of a soft bed of hay. He looked around and found himself in a small, enclosed granary.

This was the place where he lived as a child. The first floor of the granary housed many lambs and poultry that needed watching, while a small mezzanine above was where the young Dawson used to rest during his night watches.

This granary was also a mental buffer he had created for himself within his sea of consciousness, a safe zone to block the erosion of the Mind Invasion target’s mental energy and ensure his own safety.

He pushed open the granary door with practiced ease. All around him was warm, golden sunlight. Only a small pond, about ten paces away, seemed out of place in this peaceful, rustic scene.

The pond was unnervingly still. The breeze didn’t stir the slightest ripple, and no ducks, geese, or other waterfowl glided across its surface. It was even impossible to see the bottom, as if it were a completely solidified block of murky crystal.

Dawson, however, paid it no mind. Humming an out-of-tune country ditty, he walked a circle around the pond, then crouched down, rolled up his pant legs, and plunged headfirst into the water. He sank quickly, disappearing from the surface in an instant.

Darkness, murky cold…

And an unstoppable descent.

Dawson wasn’t panicked. He opened his eyes and began to carefully survey his surroundings, and his attention was immediately captivated by the sight before him.

He was now in a dark, deep blue sea, as if falling straight down from a towering cliff. Beside him were cliff walls as hard as obsidian. Below, the water was so murky that he could only faintly make out the dim glow from flickering, dark red fissures.

Below him seemed to be molten lava from a submarine volcanic eruption… Dawson had a revelation. No wonder the black cliff walls were slightly curved in a ring; though he couldn’t see the end, he could still vaguely discern the shape of a massive underwater volcanic crater.

So the Demonic Lizardmen truly lived in the bottomless ice sea. It seemed Harvey’s intelligence wasn’t far off—they really did use the upwellings briefly formed when these submarine volcanoes erupted through the ice shelf to reach the surface and move onto land.

At this thought, Dawson couldn’t help but feel a little smug… That fellow Harvey had supposedly developed an alchemical submersible capable of navigating the deep sea, but Dawson would bet anything that even a submersible couldn’t reach the bottom of such a profound abyss.

From the moment he entered the target’s sea of consciousness, he had been falling at an unstoppable speed. This meant he had to be at least ten thousand meters below the sea’s surface.

Of course, the massive underwater crater wasn’t all he saw.

As he neared the bottom of the crater, protruding stone structures began to appear on the circular cliff walls. Their style was unlike any known surface architecture, looking more like the cocoons spun by insects pupating. The farther down he went, the more of them he saw… they grew in dense clusters on the black cliffs, too numerous to count.

Could these cocoon-like structures be the dwellings of the Demonic Lizardmen?

Dawson couldn’t help but click his tongue in amazement. He had originally thought the Mind Invasion would connect his consciousness directly to the scene of the target’s final battle and capture, which would have allowed him to experience firsthand how these bizarre enemies fought and communicated with their own kind. He never expected to plunge straight into their home nest, their main base.

What was strange… was how quiet it was. There was no sign of any Demonic Lizardmen activity. How could this memory fragment, which he’d sliced from a collective sea of consciousness, not contain a single living non-human?

Should he surface and withdraw immediately, or stay put and wait for something to happen…

Before Dawson could make a decision, the entire crater began to tremble slightly. It wasn’t the subterranean unrest of surging lava that precedes a volcanic eruption, but rather… some kind of highly regular resonance.

Suddenly, a giant cocoon attached to the cliff wall beside him split open without a sound. A deformed creature with long, twisted limbs, like a humanoid spider, slowly crawled out. Then, more giant cocoons ruptured in the resonance, and tens of thousands of humanoid spiders emerged. Their flat, featureless faces seemed to sniff the water for a moment before they swarmed rapidly down the cliff walls toward the bottom of the crater.

Dawson quickly followed, continuing his descent. Only when he was close to the bottom did he realize… that the dark red fissures he’d glimpsed earlier weren’t volcanic vents at all, but massive, continuously opening and closing “insect mouthparts.”

Every time these giant mouthparts opened and closed, they would spew out an extremely thick black fluid. This fluid didn’t dissolve directly in the seawater; upon being ejected, it would rapidly break apart into spherical globules of black liquid. The humanoid spiders, arriving one after another, snatched them up as if they were priceless treasures. The moment a globule touched their bodies, it instantly spread to cover them completely, enveloping their slender, deformed forms, leaving only two red, rhythmically pulsating sacs on either side of their heads.

This was how the Demonic Lizardmen were born!

Dawson had another revelation… So this was the target’s most profound memory: the moment of its birth.

The Demonic Lizardmen that had successfully acquired their black fluid shells began to ascend one by one. But Dawson keenly noticed that a small number of humanoid spiders remained below. They didn’t embrace the black spheres directly, but instead wove nimbly through the fluid, as if searching for something.

The enormous, dark red mouthparts opened and closed once more, spewing out another great gout of thick black fluid. But this time, mixed within the fluid were dozens of deep-red crystal fragments, which were enveloped by the black liquid and broke apart into dozens of spherical globules floating in the water.

The humanoid spiders that had been lingering immediately sprang into action, moving with incredible speed to the locations of the crystal fragments, eagerly snatching up these special spheres of black fluid.

Soon… they got what they wanted and were enveloped by the black spheres containing the red crystals. On their previously featureless, flat faces, a slit suddenly tore open, and a huge, swollen eyeball grew out. A faint red light flickered within its massive pupil.

These must be the “Red Lizardmen,” beings similar to Spellcasters…

Dawson nodded, realizing that Harvey’s analysis of the Black and Red Lizardmen’s characteristics was exceptionally accurate, almost as if he had seen this with his own eyes, just as Dawson was now.

“An intelligent race that reproduces like egg-laying beasts, yet they possess a sustainable civilization and supernatural abilities… It’s simply unheard of…” Dawson couldn’t help but sigh to himself.

Was it really these non-humans from the sea who came ashore and drove the Humans from the continental heartland?

But if they are born and bred at the bottom of the sea, why would they need to compete with Humans on land for living space?

Following this line of thought, Dawson found that his questions and uncertainties only multiplied.

Suddenly, he felt a colossal shadow fall over him from above. An formless Deterrence even caused the giant insect mouthparts at the bottom of the crater to snap shut. Dawson instinctively looked up…

A… a massive deep-sea “floating island”… several times, even dozens of times, larger than the Celestial Domain… was slowly passing over the ten-thousand-meter-diameter crater. Its shadow completely enveloped the magnificent crater, making it impossible for Dawson to even guess its true size.

Countless Demonic Lizardmen who had successfully acquired their black fluid shells ascended rapidly, smoothly entering the “floating island’s” interior through numerous fissures that appeared on its underside. More and more Demonic Lizardmen streamed toward it, like a giant ship that had just arrived at the pier, waiting for its passengers to board.

So this underwater crater was merely their birthplace, not the city where the Demonic Lizardmen actually lived… They lived inside… inside a “floating island” so enormous it could navigate and move through the deep sea.

Since this was just a severed fragment of consciousness anyway, Dawson decided on the spot to follow the tide of Demonic Lizardmen upward and venture inside this “deep-sea floating island” to investigate.

But before he could get within a hundred meters, on the “floating island’s” underside facing the crater, a gash several times larger than the other fissures suddenly ripped open—and a turbid, swollen eyeball, as colossal as a silver moon and covered in a network of red and black veins, immediately locked onto Dawson’s invading consciousness.

Without a moment’s hesitation, the instant he was spotted, Dawson immediately disengaged the Mind Invasion. His entire being shot toward the sea’s surface like a streak of light.

Chapter 537: Board the Ship First, Buy the Ticket Later

Dawson scrambled and rolled off his recliner in a sorry state.

The Spellshield who had been standing guard rushed forward to help him up, only to see that the Chief’s usually ruddy complexion was now pale, his forehead beaded with a fine layer of sweat.

“Get him a dose of Moonlight Brew. It seems he suffered a shock to his consciousness. Be careful he doesn’t end up with Soul-Splitting Sickness like me…” Salas instructed in a calm tone.

But Dawson shook his head resolutely. “No need. I’m allergic to that stuff… Just let me rest for a bit.”

Gallagher tapped the mirror’s surface again and asked in a deep voice, “What strange thing did you find in its sea of consciousness? How did you get out so quickly? Didn’t we sever its consciousness beforehand?”

Dawson, half-reclining in the chair, slowly caught his breath before rolling his eyes in annoyance. “How was I supposed to know that the severed consciousness still contained thought fragments connected to the collective consciousness of its species? I almost didn’t make it back just now.”

He got up, walked to the lab bench, pulled over a sheet of white paper, and used Mage Hand to quickly sketch. Soon, a vivid depiction of everything he had seen during the Mind Invasion appeared on the paper.

“Hiss… Is this actually the birthplace of the Demonic Lizardmen? Have they been an intelligent species living in the deep sea all along? Could they be related to the Sea-folk of the south…?” The Spellshield scratched his head, blurting out all the questions on his mind.

Salas also approached to examine it for a moment, then shook his head. “There is definitely more than one of these insect-like hive systems. Their reproductive capabilities are probably even more terrifying than those of the vile orcs and Demons.”

“And what is that underwater floating island with the giant eyeball? It looks like a sunken Araye, but it can actually move on its own.” Gallagher couldn’t help but exclaim. When he was still a high-rank Spellcaster, he had traveled extensively in the southern seas of the continent and had deep interactions with the Sea-folk, a close offshoot of the Human race.

The Sea-folk also had the ability to build magnificent coral cities over hundreds, nearly a thousand, years. This sacred temple of the Sea-folk was also half-submerged in the sea and half-floating on the surface… As time passed, this massive city, constructed entirely of magical coral, would even grow and expand on its own. But under no circumstances could it achieve the ability to travel through the deep sea like a great ship.

Dawson thought for a moment before making his judgment. “They definitely have no bloodline connection to the Sea-folk. Those coral people are just like us; our written and spoken languages belong to the same system. They can survive and reproduce freely on land even after leaving the ocean, and they can also learn divine arts and magic… right?”

As the only high-rank in attendance, the Spellshield found it difficult to chime in on the discussion between the three Legendary Chiefs. He could only cautiously suggest, “Chief… shouldn’t we immediately deliver the intelligence we’ve gathered to Mr. Kel’Thuzad…”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the room fell silent.

Salas gave him a meaningful look, which scared him into immediately lowering his head and not daring to say another word.

Dawson, however, didn’t think much of it and grumbled with some discontent, “Mr. Agent dug a huge pit for me; he almost got me killed… Although he provided the non-human live specimen, I should at least get him to give me a little something for my services, right?”

Gallagher hadn’t contributed at all and was just waiting for Dawson to say this. He immediately moved close to the mirror and exclaimed with glee, “Exactly! In accordance with the principle of equivalent exchange, we’ve decoded the intelligence on the Demonic Lizardmen for Mr. Agent. We should receive some reasonable compensation in return!”

He raised his hand and rapped on the mirror’s surface, interrupting Salas’s thoughts and urging, “The battle in the Evil Moon Mountain Range has come to an end for now. After the Demons’ frontline command center fell, their main force has retreated more than one hundred and fifty kilometers north of the foothill outpost… We just need to rebuild permanent fortifications there, and we can bring the entire northern part of the Western Realm’s Evil Moon Mountain under our complete control.”

The war that had dragged on with the Demons for nearly thirty years had finally reached a temporary conclusion… If the Demonic Lizardmen from the Arctic Ice Sea were to invade the Demon settlements in the northwest at this moment, the Demons, much like the Humans, would probably have to temporarily set aside their sworn feud and turn north to fight a more powerful and terrifying enemy.

Gallagher continued, speaking effusively, “So… I want to use Dawson’s adventure this time to get more and newer magical weapons and equipment from Mr. Agent. This time… this time we don’t just want Anti-Demon weapons. If he truly sees the Federation as a close ally for the future fight against the Demonic Lizardmen, then he should share some of his more advanced magical energy weapons to arm our battle mages, who have always stood on the front lines protecting our people!”

Whoa! He was making an exorbitant demand!

The Spellshield couldn’t help but shudder. A single thought flashed through his mind—wouldn’t a request like this infuriate the Forum behind Mr. Kel’Thuzad? Mr. Administrator and Mr. Observer, They… wouldn’t They think we’re being too greedy?

Sure enough, before Gallagher could finish, Dawson cut him off with a deep frown. “That plan is not feasible! It’s too offensive and reckless. Trading a single piece of intelligence on a non-human race for the very magical weapons they rely on for their foundation… If it were us, I doubt we would agree to it so easily.”

Salas suddenly chuckled and said mysteriously, “Then… let’s board the ship first and buy the ticket later.”

“What do you mean?”

“Isn’t he trying to establish a united front against the non-human races? The New Federation… incorporating unorthodox Spellcasters, Burrowing Dwarves, and the Elves of the east, a vast supernatural organization with the Spellcaster Forum at its core.”

Salas’s ethereal avatar slowly drifted to the window and said softly, “Join him. Never mind the internal factional struggles within the Federation for now. Aren’t we all members of the Forum? If we join his New Federation in our personal capacities, I imagine our Mr. Agent… oh no, we should call him His Majesty, the Emperor of the Northern Realm, wouldn’t refuse the willing enlistment of three Legendary Casters, would he?”

“Huh?” The Spellshield froze on the spot as if struck by lightning. After a long pause, he finally managed to stammer, “Chief, you… you’re going to leave the Federation and join Mr. Kel’Thuzad’s new organization? How… how can you do that?”

His mind was in chaos; he simply couldn’t comprehend why the Chief had suddenly uttered such astonishing words.

Salas shot him a look and chided with a laugh, “What? Am I, an old relic, not worthy?”

Dawson rubbed his nose and suddenly chimed in with a grin, “Excellent. The three of us haven’t been involved in the actual affairs of the Federation for a long time anyway. Those guys below are fighting like cats and dogs over their own selfish interests every day. It gives me a headache just watching them… To hell with family interests, orthodox honor, and magical authority! I want to join the New Federation! I’ll stand on the front lines against the non-human invasion under the leadership of Mr. Agent! Pwahahaha!”

He couldn’t help but laugh as he spoke.

Gallagher’s expression shifted several times, a mix of uncertainty and contemplation, before a strange smile appeared on his face. He chimed in, “What a great idea! Doesn’t the New Federation uphold the principle of mutual assistance against external threats, regardless of faction or origin? Alright then… I’ll join too. Besides, right now we need to help Mr. Agent scout out the main movements of the Demonic Lizardmen in the far north of the Western Realm. My elite battle mages can also join the New Federation… We’ll all be on the same side then. Asking for some reinforcements and supplies… that wouldn’t be too much to ask, would it?”

The Spellshield stood there, at a complete loss, watching the three powerful and respected Legendary Chiefs acting like unruly children throwing a sudden tantrum. For a moment, he had no idea what to do.

Chapter 538: Three Lines of Defense

“What?”

“The three Chiefs of the Federation want to join my New Federation as individuals? And they’ve volunteered to come to the Northern Realm personally to assist us on the front lines against the non-human races?”

Harvey closed the crystal screen of his Magic Brain device, a single thought flashing through his mind.

These three old men must have gone mad.

If I really let them all come to the Northern Realm, how would that be any different from having three holy figures breathing down my neck? Could I really dare to command them as I pleased, sending them to the Ice Sea Base or the Isengard Great Fissure to assist the Northern Army in battle?

Astaren was also at a loss for words. After a long pause, he said slowly, “Perhaps the Chiefs don’t want to publicize the truth of the non-human invasion too early and risk causing internal turmoil among the nations of the south… So they intend to use this extreme method to force you to step forward and formally ally with the Federation. They want to both shoulder the responsibility of fighting the non-human races together and prevent the Federation from falling apart.”

Rainer’s political acumen was not as sharp as Astaren’s, but his long tenure in government had trained him to think deeply. He analyzed cautiously, “Your Majesty already intended to cooperate with the Federation; otherwise, you wouldn’t have given them such a precious live Demonic Lizardman specimen for free. With a great enemy at our doorstep, uniting all possible forces is hardly a bad thing for us.”

Harvey rolled his eyes, speechless. “A crisis of this magnitude, one that could involve the survival of our race, cannot be controlled or turned around by a few powerful individuals. Three Legendary Casters sounds intimidating, but if I really put them on the front lines at the Ice Sea Base, who can guarantee they could hold back the tsunami-like non-human army charging south?”

He raised a finger and pointed to the intelligence sent from the Magic Net teleportation array—a mental landscape from the Mind Invasion, drawn by Chief Dawson himself. He sighed deeply. “See? The Demonic Lizardmen are like insects, so easily creating thousands of individuals that can be immediately thrown into battle. They even possess colossal floating islands that can travel submerged in the deep sea. Honestly… I have a feeling this thing isn’t just a mobile floating island. It’s more like a living creature!”

A gigantic living creature with life and consciousness… one that could assist the Demonic Lizardmen in battle. Or rather, a living deep-sea war fortress.

Pierce, who had remained silent, suddenly stood up and walked over to the map on the wall. He picked up Harvey’s customary red pen and drew three thick, long red lines along the Spine of the Continent Mountains.

“Your Majesty, please look. The entire Spine of the Continent Mountains stretches for tens of thousands of miles from west to east, but the locations that can truly be called gaps in the natural barrier… are actually only the Vile Moon Mountain Canyon in the far west, the Raven Ridge area in the center and the nearby Isengard Great Fissure… and the Golden Forest in the northeast corner.”

He paused, tracing the red lines with his finger. “To the north of the Western Realm is the vast territory of the Demons. To push south, the Demonic Lizardmen must first fight their way through the Demons. I believe that even if they eventually wipe out the Demons and reach the Evil Moon Mountain Range, their effective combat strength will have been significantly depleted. As long as the Federation can command the seven wizard kingdoms to deploy their full strength here and hold their ground, they should be able to resist the enemy’s southward offensive.”

The premise, of course, was that the Federation would need magical weapon reinforcements from Starfire City.

Harvey nodded, taking over from Pierce. “Correct. Invading from the Western Realm would require them to traverse the longest and most difficult battle line. The Golden Forest in the east is also located in a corner of the south, and the terrain there is a rugged plateau. Although the Elves are reclusive, they have hundreds of thousands of Golden Trees as a natural defensive advantage. They won’t easily let the Demonic Lizardmen cross the Spine of the Continent and invade the south.”

Astaren blinked and added playfully, “Besides, it’s convenient for the Burrowing Dwarves from the Breath of the Hills on the southeastern coast to reinforce them. The Dwarves are also skilled at digging underground fortifications for defense. With the help of our new magical weapons, even if it comes to forest guerrilla warfare, I believe the Demonic Lizardmen won’t gain any advantage.”

The group couldn’t help but laugh, making Egnor, who was half-elf, extremely awkward. Everyone knew that Elves and Dwarves never got along. The very thought of those two races joining forces to fight a common enemy was both inspiring and comical.

After the laughter died down, Harvey pointed to his own main base and continued, “So no matter how you look at it, a main assault through the center of the south is the Demonic Lizardmen’s best option. The frozen tundra and the ice sea seem remote, but in terms of a landing operation, they are the closest point to the center of the Spine of the Continent Mountains. If their main force relies on that enormous floating island to land along the Ice Sea Base… they only need to cross a sparsely populated region of vile orc tribes to reach the foot of the Spine of the Continent Mountains. And we… we are the nail that sticks out the most on this entire defensive line.”

What’s more, there was the undefended gap of the Isengard Great Fissure. Even if Starfire City maintained a tight defense, there was no guarantee the enemy wouldn’t figure out the situation and dispatch a surprise force to infiltrate through the Great Fissure into Isengard… At that point, Starfire City and the Grizzly Bear Territory behind it would truly be facing enemies on two fronts.

Harvey never believed that the mortal nobles of the southern nations had the ability to face such a powerful invading enemy. If the Demonic Lizardmen’s hierarchy and leaders were intelligent enough, they could even subvert or enslave these defenseless fellow humans, turning them into cannon fodder to slaughter their own kin.

This wasn’t something that hadn’t happened in the thousands of years of human history—when the Demons crossed the Evil Moon Mountain Range and invaded the human kingdoms back then, many feudal lords in the Western Realm, in order to save their own lives and family interests, threw themselves at the feet of the Demons and, in turn, helped them slaughter their own people.

Duncan, who was the last to speak, considered for a long time before abruptly saying, “Your Majesty, it seems you’ve forgotten about the Church… Although they completely withdrew their forces from the Evil Moon Mountain Range and recently suffered heavy losses in the central region… the Holy City, Goris, still retains a large Army of Judgment. The battle priests are a force no less formidable than the Federation’s Mage Corps. Should we consider including them in the alliance?”

Right… the Church.

After the series of blows dealt personally by Harvey, the Church had seemed to remain in a state of silent retreat. The fact that they took the initiative to send a messenger to Harvey to request cooperation showed that the Holy See, from its very founding, knew of the Demonic Lizardmen’s existence through ancient traditions. They also knew that the Human race had been defeated in a racial conflict in the continental heartland and were exiled to the south to struggle for survival… It was just that the Church’s path to uniting against the enemy had gone astray. Coupled with the sudden rise of the Federation, it led to a complete failure to rally the people, instead causing frequent internal strife within the southern nations.

But now it seemed the internal divisions and chaos within the Church were probably no better than the Federation’s… Even the Pope himself had to lower his status and send a Confessor Priest, attempting to use Harvey, an “outsider” from a Spellcaster background, to send troops to the Holy City, Goris, to eliminate the out-of-control situation for him.

“The Church is a lost cause… And I don’t have the time to solve their internal turmoil. This bunch of holy rollers are still too optimistic, even more so than those magic politicians in the Federation. They have no idea how close the full might of the Demonic Lizardmen has come to us, and they’re still dreaming they have time to sort out their internal messes.”

Harvey shook his head and instructed Duncan, “Organize and simplify the intelligence from the Federation and give it to that Confessor Priest Garrett, the one who’s shut himself in the city and doesn’t go out. He’ll have his own way of contacting His Holiness the Pope in the Holy City.”

What happened next would depend on whether that Thirteenth Pope would truly honor the Church’s ancient promise to save the world.

…

Just as Duncan left on his task, the doors to the castle conference room were thrown open with a bang.

Vaughn, newly promoted to Deputy Commander-in-Chief of the Northern Army, strode in hastily, followed by a long line of high-ranking intelligence officials.

Vaughn knelt on one knee before Harvey’s desk, his voice hurried. “Your Majesty, the Isengard Expeditionary Force has just sent an urgent report—they have reached the Great Fissure in the Spine of the Continent Mountains!”

Chapter 539: Arriving at the Great Rift

“Is this the Great Rift of the Spine of the Gods Mountains?” Wayne lowered the spyglass in his hand and turned to the pale-faced Old Hughes.

Old Hughes was riding in the same War Beast vehicle as him. It was his first time on such a strange alchemical construct, and whether it was the rumbling noise it made at high speeds or the violent bumps from the lack of a shock absorption system, the priest, who was over fifty, was in misery.

“Wayne… Sir, huff… That’s right, ahead is… the Great Rift…” Suppressing the bile that had risen to his throat, Old Hughes responded with difficulty.

Wayne frowned, picked up the spyglass again to survey the distance, and muttered in confusion, “It looks more like a giant valley…”

A believer standing behind Old Hughes cautiously came closer and explained patiently, “The Great Rift itself is at the end of the valley. In this part of the northern desert, this is the only place with a water system—the Zelt River, which flows down from the Spine of the Gods Mountains. After entering the desert, it becomes a raging underground river.”

He paused, glanced at the old priest with a hint of admiration, and said, “Lord Hughes once traveled here alone in his youth. He couldn’t be mistaken.”

Dav ran up, nimbly climbed onto the war vehicle with a long stretch of his arm, and asked in surprise, “That huge roaring sound we’ve been hearing from underground whenever we camped along the way—could that be the flow of the Zelt underground river you mentioned?”

To be able to hear the clear sound of flowing water, accompanied by the slight tremors of the underground river crashing against rock layers, through such deep strata of rock and thick quicksand… just how torrential and wide must this river be?

Old Hughes coughed and waved his hand modestly. “Cough… that was a matter of my youth, more than thirty years ago. It wasn’t exactly ‘traveling alone.’ If the Church’s Army of Judgment hadn’t put a bounty on my head, I wouldn’t have plunged headfirst into the desert in a panic, only to get lost and stumble upon the legendary Great Rift…”

In the end, he collapsed from hunger and thirst in the wilderness. He was only saved by a tribe of ‘The Rootless People’ who were herding their flocks nearby. He had to recuperate for a good half a year before he could return to the south.

Wayne nodded in understanding. No wonder the old priest could find a way to contact the Borderland Tribes in the border mountains and the northern desert for them. It turned out he had established a friendship with these “Rootless People” who lived in the area decades ago.

“So, what’s the plan? It’s getting dark… should we march through the night and enter the valley directly, or make camp here and rest, waiting until dawn tomorrow to move out?”

They didn’t have many war vehicles on this expedition, and the precious liquid magical energy couldn’t be transported from the unstable temporary teleportation array in Highland City. They had to be frugal with it along the way. This meant the soldiers could only take turns riding the vehicles to recover their stamina during the high-intensity march, spending most of their time on foot.

The only ten Magic Motorcycles were assigned to the Special Operations Squad to act as scouts and rear guard, clearing their tracks.

“Let’s make camp here… Send the mobile sentinels into the valley first to see what the situation is like inside.” Wayne’s command style was just like Deputy Commander-in-Chief Vaughn’s. Although his personal temperament leaned toward adventure, he was conservative and steady when it came to collective military operations.

Dav rubbed his hands together, agilely leaped off the war vehicle, and said with a smile, “I’ll take the lads from the mobile sentinels into the valley. I’ll bring a few engineers along, too, and we can map out the terrain inside while we’re at it.”

This place was one of the defensive lines for the south designated by His Majesty. A permanent military fortress was to be built here in the future, so the preliminary work had to be solid and meticulous to avoid delaying subsequent plans.

Soon, the soldiers who received the order halted their advance. Guided by a few young followers of Old Hughes, they lay down in sandy pits, quickly located a tributary of the underground river, and had the engineering alchemical beasts dig a few sand wells in a jiffy. Before long, gurgling water was seen flowing from the wellheads.

They arranged the fifteen War Beast vehicles in a circle to form a simple outer defense line. The people gathered in the center busied themselves with setting up camp, starting fires, and cooking… Only Dav, full of excitement, led seven or eight Bloodline Warriors and three Engineers, started up the Magic Motorcycles, and sped off with a roar toward the valley entrance several miles away.

The closer they got to the valley entrance, the more greenery began to appear on the ground. After driving a bit further, they could see lush green shrubs in the distance beyond the rugged piles of rock. It seemed this valley, nurtured by the Zelt River, was a rare freshwater oasis in the northern desert.

Dav held the vehicle’s handlebar firmly with one hand, using his free hand to impatiently scratch the back of his neck. Then he gestured for the soldiers under him to slow down.

“Brothers, once we’re in the valley, split into two teams and scout from the left and right. No need to go too deep… We’ll regroup at the riverbank ahead in an hour. If you find anything unusual, report to me immediately via radio!”

“Roger!”

“Understood!”

The soldiers immediately split into two columns of vehicles and proceeded in their assigned directions. Although the valley was lush with vegetation, it was mostly low-lying shrubs with shallow roots. Taller trees were sparse, so the line of sight was quite open, and they didn’t need to be overly cautious about avoiding obstacles while riding.

Dav led three soldiers by himself, excitedly riding halfway around the valley’s edge before being the first to arrive at a wide bank of the Zelt River, where he waited for the other team to join them.

A half-orc soldier came over to light his cigarette, saying with a grin, “The temperature in the valley is actually warmer than in the desert. If we had camped here tonight, it would’ve been much better than before…”

Dav took a deep drag from his cigarette and pointed at the clear river in front of them. “I’m telling you, that guy Wayne is too rigid. What’s wrong with pushing on for a few more hours to camp here? I haven’t bathed in almost half a month since we left Highland City. My clothes stink, and my whole body is itchy as hell.”

The soldier scratched his head awkwardly, not daring to reply. Who was Battalion Commander Dav? The kind of man who would roll around bare-chested in the snow and mud during winter training in the Northern Realm. The kind of tough guy who would ditch his military rations to lighten his load during cross-country marches and eat whatever he could catch in the barren lands. How could he suddenly become so finicky and concerned about cleanliness?

Of course, the special reversible military uniforms the Expeditionary Force wore on this campaign were the real culprit for his discomfort. The munitions factory designers had some strange brainwave and decided to put the optical camouflage coating on the inside of the clothes. Soldiers were supposed to take them off and wear them inside out during combat, while normally keeping the coating on the inside to prevent wear and tear.

Many soldiers had been secretly complaining that the lining of the uniform, coated with the camouflage material, was irritating their skin, with some even developing rashes in certain areas.

“Once the other team gets here, we’ll take turns getting in the river for a wash. Wayne didn’t set a return time, anyway… a little delay won’t matter.”

Dav had just made his decision and tossed his cigarette when the other team of sentinels came roaring out of the woods. The two in the lead were each carrying a plump grouse.

“Chief! Wild game!”

Dav burst out laughing and immediately started taking off his clothes. “Three of you, spread out and keep watch! You two, start a fire and roast the grouse. The rest of you, get in the water with me and cool off!”

In this desolate and unexplored land, there was little to scout for besides a few rare magical creatures. Dav had volunteered to lead the team mainly to get away from the main force and relax a little. The monotonous march of over half a month had been so dull it had nearly driven him stir-crazy.

Only the three Engineers still remembered their duty. They nimbly climbed to the tops of the large trees, took out their sketchbooks, and began to draw the terrain around the valley entrance from memory.

The moment Dav entered the water, he shivered from the cold. “Hiss! How is this water even colder than the Icefield River in the Northern Realm’s winter? The strange thing is, at this temperature, it hasn’t even frozen over…”

Before he could clamber back to shore, still shivering, an Engineer suddenly slid down from the treetop in a flash and scrambled toward him.

“Chief! Chief! Trouble! There’s a flash flood!”

Dav froze. “What?”

Before he could finish, everyone felt a faint tremor in the ground. A large number of small animals like wild rats and mountain hares suddenly poured out of the bushes, desperately crowding together and scattering in all directions. In the canopies of the tall trees, startled birds also took flight with a flurry of wings.

“To the vehicles! Retreat out of the valley!”

Chapter 540: The Man-Made “Mediterranean”

A dozen or so men on Magic Motorcycles sped out of the valley without looking back, only coming to a halt after they crested a high slope at the valley’s entrance.

Dav stood on his Magic Motorcycle, craning his neck to look back. He saw that where they had just been on the riverbank below, the ground had, at some unknown point, silently split open into a deep fissure amidst the increasingly violent tremors. The entire flat, grassy slope of the valley below was a chaotic scene of cracked earth and toppled trees.

“What the hell kind of flash flood is this!?” Dav cursed, baring his teeth. “This is an earthquake! Do you understand? An earthquake!”

A soldier patted his chest, still shaken. “What a commotion,” he muttered. “This is way scarier than a Giant Devouring Worm turning over underground. I could barely even stand just now.”

The continuous tremors seemed confined to the valley. The full-flowing river also churned violently from this natural disaster, its waters overflowing the banks and spreading wantonly. The entire valley was filled with roiling steam and mist, as if it had just been hit by a torrential downpour.

An out-of-place smell suddenly filled the air.

Dav twitched his nose and sniffed. “Why does it smell like rust?” he said decisively.

Logically, after an earthquake churned up the soil, shouldn’t there be an earthy, muddy smell? Dav despised this strange odor; to a half-orc with a keen sense of smell, it was thick and pungent.

Before he could fully process it, an even more violent tremor struck. The fissures that had previously cracked the valley floor widened further. One bottomless chasm even stretched straight toward the valley entrance, stopping less than a hundred meters from the high slope where they were observing.

“Chief, something’s wrong! Shouldn’t we pull back? Sir Wayne must have noticed the disturbance by now.”

Dav saw no reason to act tough in the face of a natural disaster. He nodded and was about to order everyone to head back.

Suddenly, a dreadful chill ran down his spine, making the hair on his body stand on end. His heart began to pound uncontrollably—the innate talent of a Bloodline Warrior had activated on its own. With his nerves stretched taut, his body instantly entered a combat state.

The inherent abilities of a high-rank Bloodline Warrior had the same malice detection effect as a Spellcaster’s monitoring spells!

The soldiers behind him reacted at the same time, all of them grabbing the Magical Energy Guns off their backs, chambering rounds, and forming a circle, their eyes fixed on the valley below.

From the huge, caved-in fissure a hundred meters away, two monstrously-shaped creatures were nimbly climbing up from the depths.

Seamless black hide, twisted and swollen joints, and a solid, deep-red crystalline faceplate embedded in their heads…

Demonic Lizardmen!

…

The moment the two Demonic Lizardmen, each carrying a black water tank, climbed onto level ground, Dav opened fire without the slightest hesitation.

The inscriptions on the new model of Magical Energy Gun flared brightly as a special Dragon’s Flame magical energy round shot out of the barrel like a lightning bolt, flying straight for one of the Demonic Lizardmen’s faceplates.

To a marksman of Dav’s caliber, a hundred meters was practically point-blank range.

The bullet struck the crystalline faceplate with pinpoint accuracy. The Demonic Lizardman’s head snapped back as if struck by an invisible sledgehammer, its entire neck bending backward. The crystalline faceplate shattered into pieces, and it collapsed, dead before it could even react.

The remaining enemy fell to a volley from the other soldiers. Its chest was riddled with bullets, its hide armor perforated like a sieve, and it toppled to the ground in an instant.

“Dammit! Weren’t these damn things supposed to be active near the ice sea? How did they get to the foot of the Spine of the Gods Mountains so quickly?” Dav didn’t lower his gun, his sights still scanning the area around the massive fissure. “Could it be that His Majesty has a celestial eye and knew these monsters would invade from near the great chasm?”

The Engineer, trembling, pulled the communicator from his pack. “Sir,” he said loudly, “we need to report to Battalion Commander Wayne immediately!”

Dav nodded, then added after a thought, “Just report the situation. Don’t request reinforcements. Tell them we’re returning immediately.”

A soldier on watch suddenly shouted, “More enemies! They’re climbing up from underground… Heavens! There are so many!”

“Fire at will! Pin them down the second they show their heads! Keep the vehicles running… we need to be ready to pull out at a moment’s notice!” Dav snarled, blowing the head off a Demonic Lizardman that had just emerged.

At that moment, he truly regretted not bringing a few Portable Cannons. Even one would have been enough to collapse the fissure in front of them, burying all the non-human monsters that were pouring out endlessly like insects.

The next wave of Demonic Lizardmen seemed to realize they were under attack. They quickly locked onto the sentinel squad firing at them from the high slope and began drawing black liquid from the tanks on their backs, solidifying it into crystalline spears, and hurling them.

Fortunately, Dav and his men knew the spears’ maximum range was less than a hundred meters. Otherwise, if dozens of those viciously thrown spears had rained down on their exposed position, even using the metal bodies of the Magic Motorcycles for cover wouldn’t have prevented casualties.

Seeing this, he decided not to engage any further. He mounted his vehicle, waved his hand, and ordered, “We’re pulling out! Head into the desert and circle around. We’ll shake off any pursuers and then return to the main base.”

The soldiers acknowledged in unison and mounted their vehicles.

They hadn’t gone far when an even more violent tremor shook the valley behind them—this time, it was terrifying, like mountains collapsing and the earth splitting apart. A soldier who was about to accelerate swerved, and both he and his vehicle were sent flying.

Dav slammed his feet to the ground, using his bloodline power to force his accelerating vehicle to a stop. He reached out, scooped up the dazed and battered soldier, righted the man’s motorcycle, and then sped off toward the vast desert.

Just before he rode down the slope, he couldn’t help but glance back toward the valley, and what he saw nearly made him fall off his vehicle in shock…

The verdant valley, which had been a flat basin just moments ago, had completely collapsed into a massive crater during the cataclysmic quake that had lasted for several minutes. Raging torrents of water spread out from the bottom of the crater, swallowing the land and all its countless plants.

In the murky, black water, an incomparably colossal behemoth seemed to be slowly rising to the surface…

Although he couldn’t make out its exact form, the shadowy silhouette beneath the water made it clear that it was a living creature of unimaginable size, large enough to make anyone standing before it seem infinitesimally small.

As it rose unhurriedly from the depths, it continued to expand the massive crater in the center of the valley, until the entire valley floor was transformed into a vast, man-made “Mediterranean.”

The Engineer sat behind the soldier driving the Magic Motorcycle, clutching the alchemical communicator and frantically “dialing,” but he couldn’t establish contact with the main base.

Seeing this, Dav roared, “Use coded communication! That giant monstrosity must be interfering with the Magic Net connection! We can’t send voice transmissions this close to it, and it’ll make it easy for the enemy to lock onto our position.”

“Chief, what code should I send?”

“Enemy attack… retreat… take cover. That fellow Wayne will know what I mean.”

Chapter 541: “They’re here”

The Demonic Lizardmen had actually arrived at the Great Rift before the Northern Army. Using some bizarre method, they had lain in wait in the massive underground lake beneath the rift, only revealing themselves when the Expeditionary Force’s soldiers arrived.

Harvey watched a few of his subordinates pace anxiously back and forth in the meeting room and sighed helplessly. “The intelligence from the Federation came a step too late. I should have guessed they were using some kind of deep-sea submersible vehicle for long-distance travel, I just didn’t expect them to be so fast.”

Standing beside the large map on the wall, Pierce muttered in a daze, “But how did such a massive ‘Floating Island’ sneak from the ice sea into the earth and finally reach the Great Rift’s underground lake?”

“A vast underground water system, eroded over millions of years, will form countless wide underwater passages. Some areas can even form a huge underground lake, just like the one at the Great Rift.” Duncan stood up, pointed to the map on the wall, and patiently explained, “The Sea-folk living in the southern seas once traveled through underground rivers to reach the Storm Sea in the Western Realm… The Burrowing Dwarves of the Breath of the Hills also once accidentally dug through a rock stratum while building a new underground city, causing the entire city to sink into an underground lake.”

Rainer said with frustration, “But we don’t know the layout of the underground river system. If we rely solely on rumors and hearsay, it’s impossible to determine the non-human races’ true movements underground. They might show up at our doorstep before we even notice.”

Harvey waved his hand reassuringly. “For now, at least, we can be certain that there are no massive underground lakes in a fifty-kilometer radius around Starfire City, nor are there any underground rivers large enough for their ‘Floating Island’ to pass through.”

He was quite sure of this point. After all, ever since he had devoured the Magic Core, the millions of Energy-devouring beetles in the ore veins beneath Starfire City could connect with him at any time, constantly monitoring all underground activity for him.

The Living Tunneling Machines converted from the Giant Devouring Worms had also been digging in the surrounding area for several years. Although they often dug through the earth’s crust, causing groundwater to seep in, they had never discovered any major underground river systems.

“Your Majesty, what should we do now?” Pierce asked tentatively. “There are over ten thousand Demonic Lizardmen near the Great Rift, and they are gradually trying to explore and infiltrate beyond the rift valley. Our Expeditionary Force’s hidden position is less than ten li from them. It could be dangerous to stay there.”

Although Commanders Wayne and Dav had expressed a very strong desire to fight, Harvey didn’t think their force of less than two thousand men, who were also short on strategic supplies, had any hope of defeating this non-human “submersible surprise force.” This was different from past positional warfare, where they could set up ambushes and crush the enemy with firepower. From the fragments of memory that Chief Dawson had seen in the non-human’s mind, these monsters’ method of reproduction was more akin to that of insects; their birth was more like being “manufactured.” This was enough to show that they wouldn’t care about attrition from combat and would commit any means necessary to achieve their goal.

But for Starfire City and the Northern Realm, soldiers were living people, painstakingly selected and trained over time. Excessively cruel combat losses would not only be a huge blow to their strength but would also severely damage the morale and confidence of the people throughout the realm. Once fear and a reluctance to fight spread, defeat would be inevitable.

After a moment of thought, Harvey said slowly, “The Expeditionary Force will immediately split into two. One mobile unit will remain stationed near the Great Rift to monitor the enemy’s movements at all times. The other will head to the Borderland Tribes in the northern desert as quickly as possible to begin mobilization for relocation… The followers of the Stoneheart Hermits have already reached agreements with several tribes. Our people will be at Wolf Fang Ridge, on the border of Isengard, to receive these Rootless People.”

Rainer was startled and quickly asked, “According to the reports, there are more than ten Borderland Tribes in the northern desert, with a total population of no less than twenty thousand. If we mobilize them all for relocation at once, I’m worried the situation around Fengyuan City will become unstable…”

The sudden influx of so many foreign refugees had even made the local City Hall anxious. The common folk below, who had long heard the rumors, were buzzing with discussion. Although they didn’t dare to protest openly due to the new King’s authority, the number of people moving away from Fengyuan City was increasing by the day. The central region of St. Valen, which had already suffered a significant population drain, now seemed even more sparsely populated.

“The first batch to arrive won’t be that large. There will always be those who don’t trust us enough… and those who worry about being betrayed will choose to wait and see. This will also give the local City Hall some buffer time. We will completely break up these Rootless People from their original tribal structures and resettle them by family unit. We will encourage them to interact and intermarry with local poor farmers. Basic education and the popularization of the legal system must also be comprehensive. The situation will stabilize quickly.”

Harvey rapped his knuckles on the table, his tone serious. “Everyone must remember: in the past, population was the cornerstone of our development. But in the future… population will be a precious strategic resource. It is the living force that will allow us to win this protracted war. We absolutely cannot abandon them and send them to be slaughtered by those non-human monsters.”

With that, he turned to Astaren. “Send a formal diplomatic letter to the capital of Isengard. Regardless of whether that mad King is still in charge, we must at least make it clear to the high nobles who control the situation that the non-human enemies from the north have now chosen their country as the first stop for invading the south… Those willing to resist in advance can join us. If they choose to avoid battle and flee, they should at least try to evacuate and resettle the people in their territories as quickly as possible.”

Astaren let out a soft chuckle and said coolly, “Your Majesty, I’m afraid not a single noble will choose to flee with their subjects. After all, their carriages can only be used to carry the wealth plundered from their people.”

Fortunately, Isengard was a relatively vast country, so it still had some strategic depth… Although the Great Rift of the Spine of the Gods Mountains had already been occupied by the Demonic Lizardmen, it left them with a relatively ample amount of time to prepare for war.

Duncan then took the initiative to ask, “Your Majesty, regarding the Federation… should we notify them immediately about the situation in Isengard?”

“Of course. Since the Demonic Lizardmen have already reached the Great Rift, they will soon make a move on the surrounding areas… Although we don’t yet know their first target of invasion, once the war breaks out, the news will spread instantly. There’s no need for us to hide it.”

Harvey paused, a strange expression on his face as he continued, “Didn’t the three Legendary Chiefs keep saying they wanted to join the New Federation we’re establishing? Perfect… I will personally write a letter inviting the three of them to come and hold the line in Starfire City…”

Arturo was stunned and quickly said, “Your Majesty, those are Legendary Casters! We still don’t know the Federation’s true intentions. To just invite them here like this, wouldn’t it be…”

Besides, the First Chief was still trapped underground, bound to the energy-gathering array by the Flesh and Soul Fusion Ritual.

“Isn’t Lord Salas just trying to urge me to find a way to free him as soon as possible?” Harvey smiled. “I still don’t have a permanent solution, but moving him to another place, letting him continue his ‘imprisonment’ in a new environment… that’s easy enough to do.”

Chapter 542: Highest Alert

Once Starfire City’s daily evening bell rang, it signified that it was time for the vast majority of municipal departments and production units to close up shop and rest.

Yuliao, the Chief of the Police Department and Minister of the Justice Department, would often clock out at almost the exact same second as the other officers in the police headquarters. However, unlike his subordinates who were eager to return home or head out for dinner, he would usually choose to walk in the opposite direction of his home after leaving the department. He would patrol a large circuit around several blocks of the inner city on his own time, only finishing when the streetlights flickered on and the sky had grown completely dark.

In theory, as the nation’s top official for internal security, a man shouldering heavy responsibilities, he had no need to perform patrol duties. He didn’t even have to personally get involved in arresting foreign spies or dangerous murderers. But compared to handling the mountains of official business in his office and dealing with the formulaic, rigid officials from City Hall, he much preferred his past life as a simple “beat cop.”

A brand-new, gleaming, and well-maintained revolver, and a strong mechanical arm forged from metal… The mere sight of his lone figure patrolling at dusk was enough to make the thuggish elements among the newly arrived refugees tremble in fear. In truth, the Senior Police Superintendent had never fired a single shot in his years of law enforcement. Most of the time, he physically subdued criminals with just one hand, a paragon of civility who exemplified “convincing with reason.”

Having lived in the Northern Realm for several years, his nightly walks on the streets always made him marvel… This city in the barren lands, built by the hands of its diligent people, was expanding wildly at an astonishing pace. Back when it was still called the pioneer territories, he only needed an hour each day to walk more than halfway around the city walls before standing quietly with his capable subordinate, Max, by the Sports Field to watch the rugby team’s evening practice.

But now, with eighty percent of the inner city’s land developed and rows of buildings, factories, and various departments constructed, just patrolling along the inner wall in one direction took him a full three hours. If he were to make a complete circuit of the inner city, he probably wouldn’t make it home all night.

And that was just the inner city, not including the Farm to the east, the Industrial Zone in the outer city, the mining site to the southeast that was gradually becoming a satellite city, the Garrison Corps’ settlement across the Icefield River that had also become town-like, the lumberyard to the west… or the temporary housing areas outside the north, south, east, and west gates, which would eventually be developed into official residential areas.

This had forced the Police Department to set up separate precincts in each district, stationing a certain number of police officers and alchemical beast guards to ensure rapid response and manage regional public order.

Although the population had exploded in recent years, Starfire City’s crime rate was extremely low compared to any major city in the south. The most common offenses were theft, brawls, and discrimination; serious crimes like murder and robbery were rarely seen even once a month. The local cold climate made Icefield Vodka a popular drink, and public disturbances caused by drunkards were often the most frequent incidents. However, after the national infirmary successfully developed a highly effective anti-alcoholism potion, this uncivilized behavior caused by this bad habit was quickly brought under control.

For this very reason, Yuliao’s routine patrol after work was more like a “stroll.” Along the way, he would see citizens heading home in groups, their faces relaxed after a day’s work. He would occasionally run into locals who knew him and greeted him, or help a young person fix a broken bicycle chain. These moments always brought a sense of peace and joy to Yuliao’s heart, a man who always abided by the knightly code.

Although he would never again have the chance to mount a warhorse and charge into the fray with a sword for honor, becoming a respected law enforcer and striving for ideals and justice was the true knightly spirit of the new era.

Yuliao firmly believed he had found those worthy of his fealty: His Majesty and the countless people.

…

Not long after the streetlights had come on, the sound of someone panting and furiously pedaling a bicycle came from behind.

“Sir! Sir!” The young police officer skidded to a stop in front of Yuliao and said with a breathless smile, “Working overtime again, Sir… which blocks are left to patrol? I can give you a ride!”

It was Dar, a new police officer recently assigned to the eastern district of the outer city. He was a young lad whose hometown was Grizzly Bear Territory. Because he was temporarily living with his parents in the inner city, he had to pedal furiously for half an hour every day after work to get home.

“It’s almost seven and you’re just getting back from the outer city. The daily commute is hard enough… hurry home and eat!” Yuliao waved his hand, signaling that his subordinate didn’t need to accompany him outside of work hours.

Dar paused for a moment, then explained with a grin, “My parents work at the Farm. They just took leave yesterday and took a train back to Grizzly Bear Territory to visit family… Even if I go home, I won’t be getting a hot meal for the next few days.”

Yuliao rolled his eyes. So the kid was buttering him up in hopes of scrounging a free dinner off him later.

“Fine. Patrol the Market District with me one more time, and afterward we’ll grab a bite at the Honey and Bear Restaurant.”

“Yes!” Dar cheered. “My colleagues were right, Sir loves to treat people to meals!”

Seeing Dar’s ecstatic expression, Yuliao felt a pang of understanding. He, too, was making excuses to avoid going home. Old Man Kolun, the man who had saved him from vile orcs and treated him like his own son, had been diligently trying to set him up on blind dates lately. The potential matches were mostly school teachers from where he worked… having a young woman suddenly appear at his home during dinner was truly a bit awkward for Yuliao.

The two walked a little further. Just as they reached a district plaza, a low hum suddenly echoed throughout the entire city.

Wooo—wooo—wooo—mmmm!

Yuliao stopped in his tracks, his expression instantly turning grave.

It wasn’t the chimes from the plaza clock tower that often announced the time, nor was it the sharp siren of a police or fire emergency. This was a magical alarm broadcast from the numerous alchemical loudspeakers hanging from eaves and lampposts, one that only sounded when the city was under invasion or facing a major crisis.

Three long, one short, low and heavy… it repeated for nearly ten minutes, long enough for everyone to realize something was wrong. This was Starfire City’s highest defense alert. In the past, it had only sounded once when remnants of the Demons were spotted in the area. Many recently arrived citizens didn’t even know what it meant.

But Yuliao knew all too well. When the magical alarm sounded, the entire city had to enter a state of lockdown. All armed departments would immediately begin war preparations. Even soldiers and police officers on leave had to return to their posts at once, and all personnel at the General Municipal Office were to be on standby, ready to respond to His Majesty the Emperor’s commands at any moment.

Without needing a word from Yuliao, Dar, who had just returned to the inner city, turned his bicycle around with a resolute expression and pedaled furiously toward the East Gate. His war preparations post was in the outer city.

Yuliao quickly found a police precinct at a crossroads. As he walked in, he saw the officers on duty methodically receiving their firearms and weapons. Upon seeing their highest-ranking officer arrive, they immediately stood at attention and saluted.

“Sir!”

“We didn’t receive any advance notice from the General Municipal Office or Police Headquarters. Could this be a drill?”

Yuliao shook his head. He didn’t know what the alarm was about either. He borrowed the precinct’s alchemical communicator and was about to call City Hall when the alarm from the alchemical loudspeakers above suddenly stopped. It was replaced by a familiar, gentle voice.

“Citizens of the Northern Realm and St. Valen, this is your Emperor. I will now personally announce a matter concerning national security and the very survival of humanity—a critical warning regarding a non-human enemy we have discovered in the northern barren lands!”

Chapter 543: Pre-war Announcement

Evening was the most leisurely time of day for the people of Starfire City. Many had already finished their dinner and were out for a stroll. When the Emperor’s voice emanated from the alchemical loudspeakers installed throughout the city, even more people who had been staying indoors came out of their houses, gathering in small groups under the speakers to listen quietly.

Everyone was a bit bewildered, with a hint of curiosity. However, out of faith in the Emperor and his army, they showed no signs of panic, even after hearing such frightening news from his own lips.

Patrols began to appear on the streets, their expressions stern as they blew their whistles to maintain order. Most of these police officers were locals, deeply trusted and respected by the populace, so naturally, no one chose to cause them trouble. Although His Majesty had not declared a curfew or martial law, many people voluntarily returned to their homes after listening to the broadcast, not lingering on the streets.

So what if there were non-human enemies? We have towering, sturdy walls, eternally loyal soldiers who came from the common people, and cannons that can blast a target to smithereens in an instant… As long as His Majesty and the Northern Army were present, Starfire City would always have an indestructible line of defense.

They had never been defeated in any battle of the past.

And so, the people who had gathered in private began to involuntarily discuss… what exactly were these non-human enemies from the northern barren lands? How bizarre did they look, and where were they?

Meanwhile, chaos had erupted in Harvey’s office in the castle.

“Your Majesty, the enemy is still a great distance away at the Isengard Great Fissure. For us to activate the highest alert and for you to personally broadcast a message to the people… it’s a bit too…” Rainer paused, trying to find the right words, but ultimately swallowed the rest of his sentence.

“Are you trying to say we’re acting like a startled bird, frightened by the slightest sound?” Harvey kindly finished his true thought for him.

Astaren said in a solemn voice, “Letting the public know the truth before any large-scale battle breaks out is a necessary measure. It’s a way of desensitizing them in advance, so that when the Demonic Lizardmen actually reach the outskirts of Starfire City, people won’t break into a riot out of fear.”

Harvey nodded in approval and placated Rainer, “I know this will cause a lot of trouble for City Hall, but think of it as a stress drill… When war truly comes, the pressure you’ll face will be far greater than this.”

According to the plan Harvey had laid out, the Academy of Sciences, the Alchemy Laboratory, the infirmary, and the Spellcaster Academy would be merged into the “New Federation” in the future, becoming the state’s central research institution. It would stand alongside the General Municipal Office and the Military Command as the three co-equal administrative bodies.

Any plan or action involving national security and future development would require the unanimous approval of all three departments to be implemented, while Harvey himself held the power to pass or veto any proposal with a single vote.

The military, naturally, rejoiced at the prospect of war. If there was no target, they would find a way to create a hypothetical enemy for themselves… But the General Municipal Office wished that war would never break out, giving them enough time to manage internal affairs and develop the economy. Rainer had only just, earlier that day, received Harvey’s special approval for the Eastern Expansion base’s production increase plan. No one had expected the news of the Demonic Lizardmen to arrive so suddenly, catching everyone unprepared.

Pierce quickly handed a document to Harvey, his face beaming with energy. “Your Majesty, this is the application report to promote three thousand reserve militia members to the regular army ahead of schedule, and… the plan to recall two thousand soldiers from the Garrison Corps.”

The Deputy Head of City Hall, Clem, and the Minister of Agriculture, Kenny, stared with wide eyes, exclaiming in unison, “Are you crazy? The Garrison Corps is preparing for the upcoming spring planting! If you recall all of them… will you take responsibility if we fail to meet the grain production increase target next year?”

Rainer also spoke up in support of his two subordinates, “I have no objection to informing the public of the truth in advance and strengthening our strategic defenses. But the problem is that the Demonic Lizardmen are still a great distance away in Isengard. There is absolutely no need for us to be this cautious.”

Harvey waved his hand, interrupting their argument. “Promoting the reserve militia is feasible. The recall of the Garrison Corps will be postponed… Agricultural and factory production must not be halted arbitrarily. Food will always be the key to our victory in a protracted war.”

With that, he turned to the Director of the Construction Department, Haru. “The railway line from Starfire City directly to the River Valley Outpost, originally scheduled to begin construction next spring, will begin immediately… As for the expansion and reinforcement of the River Valley Outpost, you can discuss that separately with the Military Command’s engineering team.”

The Academy of Sciences was to fully cooperate with the Alchemy Laboratory. All research groups were to immediately cease their current unrelated projects and dedicate themselves to the various research and development efforts for combat-type alchemical beasts.

The National Infirmary would likewise shift the focus of its potion development to battlefield medicine.

As Harvey issued one short command after another, all the officials present received their designated responsibilities. A war machine called the state began to silently turn its gears.

The department heads who needed to coordinate their efforts consciously left Harvey’s office, returning to the lounge downstairs to continue their meeting. As the number of people entering and leaving the office dwindled, Harvey finally caught sight of his old friend Ashe, shrunk down in a chair by the wall, looking utterly bored.

His Minister of Culture and Propaganda.

“If you’re sleepy, go home and sleep. Are you planning to bed down on the floor in my office?” Harvey couldn’t help but tease.

Ashe’s face reddened, and he muttered, “They just proposed closing the theaters and stopping the rugby matches… to free up the Sports Field for training newly recruited militia. Heh, it seems my department of culture and propaganda is of no use in winning a war.”

“That’s because you don’t understand the importance of the propaganda front,” Harvey said with a wink. “I saved you for last because I plan to entrust you with an important mission… I intend to merge the Ministry of Culture and the Propaganda Department to serve as the unified, official channel for releasing national information from now on.”

Ashe was stunned for a moment, then asked in confusion, “A channel for releasing information? Like today… isn’t it enough for you to personally announce it to the people through the alchemical speakers?”

Harvey rolled his eyes. “Then I might as well do nothing else and just be an announcer in front of the alchemical loudspeakers every day… You can have the Emperor’s throne!”

Terrified, Ashe waved his hands repeatedly in apology. “No, no, no! It’s just releasing information for you, right? I’ll get on it right away. By tomorrow night at the latest, new notice boards will be erected at every street corner and square in Starfire City!”

“No need for notice boards.” Harvey picked up a piece of scrap paper filled with drafted documents from his desk. “I want you to take the information that needs to be communicated to the people and mass-produce it through the printing factory into something called a ‘newspaper’… Its content will not be limited to official announcements from Starfire City, but will cover important events from the entire Northern Realm and the whole of St. Valen.”

Back in the early days of the pioneer territories, erecting a giant notice board in the square in front of City Hall and having officials and academy students stand on wooden crates to announce the news was, in essence, a measure born of necessity. At that time, most of the populace was illiterate, and they could only rely on the most primitive method of word-of-mouth to ensure everyone was informed.

But as the territory gradually developed and compulsory literacy education was rapidly popularized, the basic literacy rate of the local population had reached a gratifying level. Thus, actively seizing the propaganda front and providing the people with a reliable channel for information was the logical next step.

Chapter 544: The People’s Weekly

“I’ll assign a printing workshop to your Propaganda Department, dedicated solely to printing the newspaper,” Harvey said with a smile. “The newspaper won’t just be distributed locally in Starfire City; it must also be sent to the south… At the very least, regional administrative centers like Grizzly Keep and Fengyuan City must be within its distribution range.”

Ashe knew it was time to make an exorbitant demand. He quickly held up three fingers to bargain, “Grizzly Keep is one thing, but Fengyuan City and the cities further south are too far away. If the news is urgent, it’ll be outdated by the time it arrives by ship… unless you assign me three Airships specifically for transporting newspapers!”

“No problem. The literacy rate in the south is too low. The people who can read the newspaper are mostly nobles, wealthy merchants, or the urban middle class, so the circulation doesn’t need to be that high. Three Airships will be more than enough for you…”

The problem of printing the newspaper was easy to solve. Starfire City already had paper mills and printing workshops. Movable type printing and papermaking techniques were existing, mature technologies in this world. Basically, all it would take was a single command from Harvey to get production started.

The two of them discussed enthusiastically for a long while before suddenly realizing a problem at the same time—setting aside printing and distribution, the most important thing was the source of content. Besides official announcements, the key issue was how to collect and organize all the other various important news.

For once, Ashe proactively took full responsibility. “It’s just writing articles, isn’t it? Leave it all to me. You know full well my literary cultivation and artistic appreciation. I definitely won’t mess it up!”

Harvey quickly shook his head and said helplessly, “If we really did it your way, we might as well just rename the newspaper the ‘Noble’s Journal’… What I want is content that comprehensively covers political and current affairs, but is also closely related to the lives of the common people!”

“I understand now. You want everyone to be able to find something that interests them in the newspaper, right?” Ashe finally grasped Harvey’s intention and couldn’t help but sigh. “Besides Starfire City, there really aren’t any other places with so many ordinary people who can read and write. How am I supposed to gather news that they’ll find interesting?”

After a moment of thought, Harvey said slowly, “That’s not too difficult. Go find Astaren… The secret police in his Intelligence Department probably all have a wealth of grassroots information. As long as it’s not classified, you can use it for publication.”

Considering that in the newspaper’s initial phase, they needed to observe public reception and feedback, it was tentatively decided to only distribute it in Starfire City for the time being, with Saturday as the publication day… As for the content, the front-page headline had to be an official announcement, while the other sections would record local news and interesting stories from various places.

The Propaganda Department was already affiliated with the General Municipal Office. With the endorsement of an officially organized and published paper, it would naturally become the most credible source of information. It would not only allow the public to get fresh, first-hand news but also cause many privately circulating rumors to collapse on their own.

…

Hick walked out of the infirmary, took a small, round mirror from his pocket, and stood under a tree, anxiously aiming it at his face. The magical ointment the physicians had applied was simply miraculous! Although the brand scar still left a faint red mark, at a glance, you could no longer tell it was a deliberately seared slave emblem. It looked more like a scrape left from an accidental fall.

If he kept coming for a few more treatments, the scar should disappear completely.

After a long sigh of relief, Hick carefully placed the mirror back in his pocket. The exquisite little gadget had cost him a full three gold yuan. If he hadn’t been so concerned about the recovery of the scar on his face, he would never have been willing to spend the money.

The town square ahead was bustling with noise. Someone seemed to be loudly reading something, drawing Hick to hurry forward and see what was going on.

“Newspaper! Newspaper! The Starfire Weekly, personally ordered by His Majesty and officially published! Local residents can get a free copy with their identification card. Additional copies cost one gold yuan!”

“The truth about the non-human races of the north! A detailed account of the skirmish between the ice sea exploration base and the Demonic Lizardmen! The Northern Expeditionary Force’s findings upon reaching the Isengard Great Fissure! Officially published! Absolutely true!”

“New… newspaper?” Hick repeated awkwardly.

A kind-hearted middle-aged man next to him chuckled and explained, “This thing is for printing the news that used to be on the bulletin boards. What’s wrong? You want a copy too?”

Hick awkwardly touched the temporary resident identification card he kept carefully hidden in his coat, and mumbled, “I haven’t received a formal resident identification card yet…”

“Hahaha, that’s alright… I just got a copy. You can borrow it for a look.” The middle-aged man was quite enthusiastic, carefully taking out a stack of folded, wide pages from his satchel, unfolding them, and handing them to Hick.

The moment he took it, Hick felt a wave of dizziness. A total of four folded pages were neatly printed with dense text, even more intimidating than the literacy handbook from his Night Literacy School.

Of the large headline at the top of the front page, Hick could only recognize the three words for “Starfire City.”

Fortunately, interspersed among the copious text were quite a few pictures, which were a real novelty… Even the man who lent him the paper didn’t know how the printing presses could engrave such realistic images onto paper. Though they were in black and white, they looked incredibly lifelike.

With just a cursory glance, one of the black-and-white pictures immediately seized all of Hick’s attention—it was a scene depicting dozens of soldiers in crisp military uniforms, holding Magical Energy Guns and fighting vile orcs.

“Sir, could… could I trouble you to read this passage for me?” Hick’s face flushed red as he explained, “I haven’t graduated from the night school yet…”

The middle-aged man chuckled, took the newspaper with a hint of pride, cleared his throat, and began to read—

【By special approval of His Majesty the Emperor, the Northern Army’s second round of reserve militia recruitment… All who have reached the age of sixteen, without need for formal local resident status, may go to the Military Command’s Recruitment Office to enlist… The salary is… per month…】

Before the kind man could slowly finish reading the entire passage, Hick eagerly interrupted, “You can enlist without local resident status?”

The man squinted and nodded. “That’s right. Didn’t His Majesty personally use the communicator to warn the entire city a while ago? Non-human enemies from the north are trying to invade our homeland, so it’s inevitable that the army is expanding… At a time like this, they’re naturally loosening the restrictions to encourage everyone to enlist. It’s a pity I’m too old, or I might have had a chance to handle one of those legendary, powerful Magical Energy Guns…”

Before he could finish, Hick thrust the newspaper back into the man’s hands, bowed in thanks, and then sprinted off in the direction of the Military Command’s Recruitment Office.

“Tsk, tsk… another passionate young man.”

Chapter 545: Upwelling Number 13

For a full week after the highest alert protocol was issued, Starfire City’s entire power structure was exceptionally busy. The heads of the Military Command rushed between various administrative departments almost daily, coordinating the operations of this massive war machine.

Late on a weekend night, Harvey, having just returned to the castle from inspecting the progress of alchemical beast experiments at the Academy of Sciences, was immediately pulled into his office to continue working—a piece of new intelligence from the Ice Sea Exploration Base was laid bare before everyone.

Eighty kilometers northwest of the exploration base, at the natural upwelling designated “Number 13,” traces of a massive Demonic Lizardmen deep-sea floating island—identical to the one at the Isengard Great Fissure—had appeared.

Judging by the exterior of this colossal “Floating Island,” which could submerge and navigate freely in the deep sea, it had likely broken through the ice and surfaced a week ago, at the same time as “Floating Island Number 1” at Isengard.

In a monitored area so far from the exploration base, it was difficult for ordinary army mobile sentinels to be stationed near the upwelling around the clock. It was only thanks to the Airships, also used for long-range exploration around the base, that they were able to spot the surfaced Demonic Lizardmen fortress after nightfall, using the strong reflection of moonlight off the ice.

It was officially named “Floating Island Number 2.”

“So, our predictions were correct,” Harvey said, taking a sip of tea and looking around at everyone. “The Ice Sea Base and the Isengard Great Fissure are both main directions the Demonic Lizardmen have chosen for their southward offensive…”

“His Excellency, Federation Chief Gallagher, also sent us a report three days ago on their exploration north of the Western Realm,” Astaren stated calmly. “Their high-rank battle mages advanced a full one thousand kilometers north into the Demons’ front line, but found no signs of a Demonic Lizardmen invasion. Instead, the large number of combat troops stationed at the Demons’ defensive outposts along the way are gradually withdrawing…”

Pierce’s expression hardened. “If the Demons’ troop withdrawal wasn’t caused by the Federation’s advance,” he stated decisively, “then it can only mean that a problem requiring the mobilization of their forces has also occurred in their rear area!”

This could also indirectly confirm that the Demons might have already made combat contact with the Demonic Lizardmen.

“His Excellency the Chief also said that any further north would be the limit for the Airships’ return journey. Unless we can send more magical energy fuel, the battle mages will have to cross the barren lands teeming with Demons using only their flight spells.”

Harvey laughed helplessly, thinking to himself that this Legendary Chief, a former battle mage, never missed an opportunity to fleece him.

“Tell them to stop there,” Harvey said, waving his hand nonchalantly. “With the massive forces of the Demons holding the western front for us, we don’t need to be overly concerned about the situation there for now.”

With that, he pointed to the map spread across the long table and asked in a low voice, “Right now, we need to make a choice. If we are to take the offensive instead of remaining on the defensive, should we choose the Isengard Great Fissure or Upwelling Number 13 next to the Ice Sea Base?”

Upon hearing this, the officials all fell silent.

Logically, the Ice Sea Base was nearly thirty-five hundred kilometers away from Starfire City. Even long-range teleportation with the Planet-level Energy-gathering Array required a secondary transfer from the refugee settlement in the snowy mountains of the barren lands. This clearly made it the main assault point with the greatest strategic depth… Although the thousands of small vile orc settlements along the way couldn’t do much to delay or resist the offensive, it was also unrealistic for the Demonic Lizardmen to land at Upwelling Number 13 and march directly to Starfire City across the vast barren lands.

Their need for black water supplies dictated that they could not stray too far from their “Floating Island fortress.”

But one question lingered in everyone’s minds—what if, beneath Upwelling Number 13, there was a massive underground river tributary that could cut straight across the barren lands, allowing them to breach the rock strata and surface again in any underground lake closer to Starfire City?

A sudden thought struck Harvey, and he was the first to speak. “I’m afraid the Floating Island fortress at Upwelling Number 13 doesn’t have the ability to travel through underground rivers… From the intelligence reports, it’s clear that Floating Island Number 2 is several times larger than Floating Island Number 1 at the Isengard Great Fissure!”

Rainer and the others immediately understood. They retrieved the Recording Stones sent back by the sentinels responsible for observation and reconnaissance at both locations and activated them directly in front of everyone.

“It’s true! How did we all miss such an important detail in the intelligence at first!” Pierce slapped his forehead in sudden realization.

Floating Island Number 1 at Isengard was indeed incomparably huge, but compared to the sky-blotting Floating Island Chief Dawson had seen in his sea of consciousness, and the small-island-like Floating Island Number 2 at Upwelling Number 13, it was clearly much smaller… Duncan, who had personally been to the Demon battlefield in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, could even assert that Floating Island Number 1 was smaller than the Demons’ frontline central fortress.

Chris said with pleasant surprise, “Then the truth is basically coming to light! Floating Island Number 2 at the upwelling is the real non-human main fortress, while Number 1, which appeared first at the Isengard Great Fissure, is just a subsidiary vehicle for navigating the underground rivers. By the Arcane! How did they even build such a massive submersible vehicle? Floating Island Number 1 alone could probably hold nearly ten thousand Demonic Lizardmen combat units, right?”

Harvey closed his eyes in thought for a moment before saying gravely, “Probably more. If these non-human monsters don’t need to carry large amounts of food and supplies, and aren’t concerned with internal living space… just for transporting black water supplies and combat personnel, you could cram at least twenty to thirty thousand of them into that Floating Island.”

Everyone gasped in unison.

A second later, Astaren quickly calculated their currently revealed forces and concluded decisively, “If we go by Your Majesty’s estimate, their Number 2 main island near the Ice Sea Base could hold at least one hundred thousand troops, while the one at the Isengard Great Fissure has nearly thirty thousand!”

This already far exceeded the entire population of Starfire City, the great city of the Northern Realm… and this was just the first wave of Demonic Lizardmen combat units that could be detected.

At this thought, Harvey couldn’t help but sigh inwardly. Fortunately, the Demons in the west were able to hold back a main force of the Demonic Lizardmen’s southward invasion… Otherwise, facing enemies on three fronts, with such a massive non-human enemy crossing the Spine of the Continent Mountains simultaneously, the Human race, still in a state of disarray, would be powerless to stop them. The entire nations of the south would be plunged into a quagmire of war, with an untold number of civilian casualties.

Even with the numerous extraordinary Spellcasters among the southerners, an individual’s power in a war between entire races was as small and powerless as a clay ox sinking into the sea.

“Rainer, how have the people in the city been reacting to this matter?” Harvey suddenly changed the subject. “Has anyone shown fear or panic? Are there any inappropriate rumors or talk spreading among the populace?”

Rainer was taken aback for a moment. Wasn’t that a job for Astaren’s secret police? Why was he suddenly being put on the spot… Fortunately, the always cautious and responsible chief administrator had also been paying close attention to public opinion. He quickly stood up and replied, “After you gave your public address, the City Hall did receive many citizens who came to inquire on their own initiative… but most were curious about the specifics of the enemy and basic questions like where they have currently appeared.”

After the Propaganda Department’s newspaper was officially launched, the vast majority of questions were answered publicly through official channels. Even the dissected Demonic Lizardman captive was turned into a taxidermied specimen and put on public display on the first floor of the General Municipal Office—ninety percent of the populace, after viewing it, merely commented on its ugly and terrifying appearance, showing no other signs of panic or fear.

Haru, the Director of the Construction Department, popped his head up from among the officials and reported to Harvey in a low voice, “Your Majesty, as long as you and the Northern Army are here, the people aren’t afraid. On the contrary, their morale is high… Among the temporary workers the Construction Department has recently recruited, many have submitted their resignations, intending to enlist in the reserve militia!”

Chapter 546: The Infiltration Plan

After the Northern Expeditionary Force discovered the Demonic Lizardmen’s hidden advance party in the Isengard Great Fissure, Wayne and Dav knew that the original plan for a permanent military base in the fissure was on the verge of collapse. Their independent unit, still numbering less than two thousand men, had reached the point where a forced withdrawal was necessary. An order from Starfire City’s Military Command had arrived two days prior; His Majesty himself had commanded them to split their forces. A mobile unit of three hundred would remain to monitor the enemy’s movements in the Great Fissure at all times.

The larger main force was to withdraw immediately and join the numerous Borderland Tribes who had pledged allegiance to the Northern Realm. They would be assisted by the Stoneheart Hermits, who had been dispatched to the northern wildwoods, and would undertake the mobilization effort of helping these “Rootless People” migrate into St. Valen.

Wayne and Dav had spent several sleepless nights. Though it was their first clash with the Demonic Lizardmen, it proved that the Northern Army, armed with magical weapons, was not incapable of facing these non-human enemies head-on. But the enemy’s numbers were simply too vast. Without reinforcements, supplies, or heavy fire support, two thousand expeditionary soldiers against tens of thousands of Demonic Lizardmen combat units wouldn’t even be enough to fill the gaps in their teeth.

But if the Demonic Lizardmen established a foothold in the Great Fissure, using it as a Forward Bastion to gradually chew away at Isengard, they would have many more opportunities to fight these non-human monsters in the future.

It was for this very reason that the two men, vying for the right to stay behind and lead the mobile force on its watch mission, had reached a tense, sword-drawn standoff.

“On this expedition, we might be of equal rank on paper, but I have command authority!” Wayne said in a low, grim voice as he cleaned his gun. “So, with this order from Military Command, I am fully within my rights to assign you to lead the main force for the tribe’s migration. If you keep pestering me and delay His Majesty’s plan… Hmph, when Military Command comes looking for someone to blame, not even Vaughn will be able to save you!”

Dav gritted his teeth, his voice filled with indignation. “Since you know we’re equals, you shouldn’t be lording your command authority over me at every turn. Wayne, I see you as a real brother. Tucking our tails and running the moment we make contact with the Demonic Lizardmen—you think you can’t afford to lose that kind of face, but I can? As the first-in-command, you have even less reason to stay here and put yourself in a dangerous situation!”

Wayne paused for a moment, then said coldly, “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do by volunteering to stay! Hmph. His Majesty and Military Command are at their wits’ end over the lack of intelligence. You want to use just a few hundred mobile sentinels to figure out the situation on Floating Island Number 1, right? That’s just delusional!”

Dav was indeed widely acknowledged among the Northern Army veterans as the “number one brute,” but that didn’t mean he fought without a brain. Most of the time, compared to other commanders, he was simply more adventurous, willing to stir things up within the bounds of His Majesty’s orders to create more openings that would turn the tide of battle.

From a personal standpoint, Wayne, who also had an adventurous spirit and excelled at taking big risks for big rewards, preferred Dav’s style of command. Compared to Vaughn’s methodical, by-the-book approach—resorting to “firepower coverage” and steamrolling ahead whenever he was undecided—Dav’s flexible flanking tactics felt more like a dance of swords, a truly passionate experience.

He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the impulse that went against every soldier’s instinct, and said in a low voice, “You’re trying to find a way to sneak onto Floating Island Number 1, aren’t you?”

His plan exposed, Dav’s face flushed red. He stammered, “His Majesty told us to stay and monitor the enemy’s movements, but he didn’t specify how… Since it’s a surveillance and early warning mission, we naturally have a responsibility to figure out the enemy’s internal situation! If we don’t find a way to get inside that half-submerged turtle shell, Military Command will remain in the dark about them. When the real fight starts, we’ll be caught off guard by their strange and bizarre methods again!”

Seeing that the brute had a point, Wayne fell silent for a moment.

“What was your plan? You son of a bitch, you think I didn’t see the little moves you were making these past few days, sending your mobile sentinels to patrol the valley entrance?”

Dav rubbed his forehead and grinned sheepishly. “Don’t worry, I definitely didn’t spook the target. I just had the brothers ambush a Demonic Lizardman outpost squad that was also out scouting. After wiping them out, we just hid their bodies nearby.”

Wayne froze. “Hid their bodies? What do you plan to do with those disgusting things?”

Back in Starfire City, His Majesty had ordered Tommy and his Personal Guard to capture a live specimen from the Ice Sea Base. The high-ranking officers had been made to observe the entire autopsy. The moment the outer shell of those twisted, deformed monsters was breached, exposing the muscle and flesh within, their entire bodies would dissolve and break down until they became a pool of foul, reeking black pus, leaving only a complete outer skin.

“For their tough hides, of course!” Dav explained excitedly. “And also the black water weapon canisters they carry on their backs. With these two things, I just need to pick some tall, slender soldiers, have them put on the skins, and sneak in under the cover of night… The chance of success is very high!”

It dawned on Wayne. That’s right! Demonic Lizardmen had a natural ability to sense Spellcasters. The reason Mr. Duncan’s exploration team had been so accurately tracked and ambushed when their airship landed to rest was because the entire squad was composed of Spellcasters.

To these monsters, the ripple of mana was as dazzling as a candlelight in the night. Even during the “Ice Fishing” operation to capture a prisoner, they had to use the Airship’s power core to create a strong mana fluctuation to lure the target out from beneath the ice.

But ordinary soldiers and Bloodline Warriors could not be sensed or tracked. Although Dav and his men had engaged in a small-scale battle when they first arrived at the Great Fissure, the Demonic Lizardmen squads dispatched from Floating Island Number 1 had yet to discover the Expeditionary Force’s hidden camp. This was proof enough that they couldn’t be located.

“I agree with your infiltration plan,” Wayne said reluctantly after careful consideration. “But I have one condition…”

“Stop beating around the bush. As long as you support the operation, everything else is negotiable.”

“Report this impromptu infiltration plan truthfully to Military Command and His Majesty,” Wayne said slowly. “I won’t argue with you over who leads the team, but we must get permission from His Majesty and Military Command and make thorough preparations before we act!”

Chapter 547: Planting Bombs and Bombing

“Wayne and Dav, those bastards!” Pierce paced back and forth in his office, seething with anger as he muttered curses under his breath. “Your Majesty, please issue an order through the Military Command immediately and strip them of their command in the Isengard Expeditionary Force!”

Vaughn stood to the side, somewhat at a loss. He looked at the furious Commander, not daring to speak. His Majesty, however, didn’t seem angry at all. Instead, he stared blankly at the operation request file sent back from Isengard, lost in thought.

“There’s no need to be so angry… They were only making a request, not disobeying orders and acting on their own,” Harvey said, pointing to the file in front of him with a strange expression. “To be honest, I had also initially considered secretly infiltrating the Demonic Lizardmen’s floating island fortress to gather intelligence.”

He paused, then turned his head to Chris and Benoit, who had been summoned to the meeting, and said pointedly, “But now… I’ve thought of a more suitable method, one that can both effectively gather intelligence and tentatively test the defensive strength of the floating island fortress.”

Chris and Benoit exchanged a look and said in unison, “This… Your Majesty, are you planning to put the high-explosive aerial bombs, which are still in the development phase, into combat?”

Harvey nodded with a slight smile. “Correct. Since Wayne and his men call Floating Island Number 1 a tortoise shell, then we’ll try bombing it from the air with high-explosive aerial bombs and open a hole in its top… to see what the situation inside is really like.”

A single bombing run certainly couldn’t completely destroy a military target as massive as a central fortress, but if the actions of the air units could also serve to lure the enemy and divert their attention for the ground infiltration team, then in a way, it was a good tactic that would kill two birds with one stone.

Duncan took the initiative to stand up. “If Your Majesty plans to use the Airships again, then give the mission to me… With myself, the Eye of Illusion, and the Astrologer piloting the Airship, we couldn’t be more familiar with it.”

“Yes, that’s feasible!” Harvey nodded. “But the high-explosive aerial bombs are too heavy; one Airship won’t be enough… Aside from the reconnaissance model sent to the Ice Sea Base, I want to deploy all ten of the transport models the munitions factory just rushed to produce for this operation.”

These words immediately invigorated Chris, who said with delight, “One Airship can carry at least five aerial bombs, Your Majesty… If we deploy fifty bombs at once, we could level a small hill in an instant. As for that floating island fortress… it wouldn’t be impossible to slice off half of its top!”

Let this infiltration mission, requested independently by the Expeditionary Force, be the first shot they fired in their defensive counterattack against the Demonic Lizardmen!

…

After nearly two days of anxious waiting, the Expeditionary Force’s hidden encampment, where Wayne and Dav were stationed, finally received the joint approval from Harvey and the Northern Military Command. The infiltration plan was unexpectedly approved unanimously, but the operation would need to include a temporarily organized Airship bombing squad. The aerial bombing from the sky would create a window of opportunity to divert the enemy’s attention for the ground infiltration team.

The Expeditionary Force spent half a day setting up their only complete long-range teleportation array. A steady stream of Airship modules and ammunition immediately arrived near the Isengard Great Fissure. Transported along with the supplies… were Duncan and a group of mid-to-high-level casters.

The participants in the bombing squad were all familiar faces. Besides the three high-level Mages who had always cooperated seamlessly with the Northern Army, there were also Necromancers from the Academy of Sciences, such as Michel.

“All ammunition and supplies are in place. At dawn tomorrow… we can officially begin the operation!” Duncan said grimly as he watched the members of the special squad attempting to don the Demonic Lizardmen equipment. “I must remind you again, this hide carapace only provides the most basic deception. Given that we don’t know what method of communication the enemy uses internally, if you encounter those monsters face-to-face, the risk of being exposed is very high…”

Dav let out a simple-minded laugh and replied, “Understood! Mr. Duncan… the most covert way to infiltrate is to eliminate every enemy that spots us along the way!”

The infiltration plan, personally drafted and refined by His Majesty, was not complicated. The aerial bombing squad consisted of twenty casters in total. In pairs, they would board ten Airships and fly to a position above Floating Island Number 1, deliberately luring the enemy to discover them. Then, they would drop the heavy aerial bombs to detonate, drawing all of the Demonic Lizardmen’s attention.

Meanwhile, the infiltration team led by Dav, a special squad composed of ten Bloodline Warriors, would follow the previously gathered intelligence. They would enter the water from the edge of the Land-Sea in the valley’s sinkhole and quietly enter the floating island from below. They would then gather intelligence from inside and attempt to plant a small number of timed Dragon’s Flame bombs in a concealed area, preparing an opening for their subsequent withdrawal.

…

Time quickly passed midnight. The freshly assembled Airships had all been inflated and started up. The casters of the bombing squad boarded in sequence, each Airship carrying five aerial bombs at maximum load, and slowly ascended, flying towards the valley in the direction of the Great Fissure.

After struggling to put on the hide carapaces stripped from dead bodies, Dav and his men, each draped in a cloak coated with optical camouflage, mounted their Magic Motorcycles. Under the cover of the support unit led by Wayne… they sped toward the Great Fissure.

To supply the large fleet of Airships with sufficient fuel, the Expeditionary Force had nearly exhausted their entire reserve of liquid magical energy. If the operation was not a great success, it would mean they had traded the bulk of the materials for constructing a permanent base for a meaningless probing attack. Such a loss was unacceptable to the Expeditionary Force.

Therefore, beneath the seemingly reckless and adventurous surface, every person involved in the operation was exceptionally cautious.

About an hour later, the air and ground forces successfully arrived at the mouth of the valley. Aided by the bright, waning moonlight, the Airship squad easily located the bombing target for the operation. The floating island fortress, protruding abruptly from the massive sinkhole in the center of the valley, was conspicuous enough. Although it stood silently in the middle of the lake, entirely black, the surrounding vegetation on the valley floor had been completely razed. The dark silhouettes on the ground, which constantly reflected a faint red light, still clearly pointed the way.

That was a large number of Demonic Lizardmen who had emerged from the floating island. The deep red crystalline faceplates on their faces reflected the moonlight. Even in the deepest darkness of the night before dawn, they were still out of the floating island, busily carrying out their expansion work… felling trees that were still stubbornly growing, and driving off and slaughtering panicked herds of beasts, but not for the purpose of acquiring meat supplies.

The Astrologer and the Eye of Illusion were co-piloting one of the Airships, gazing down from the sky. She felt an extreme aversion to these strange non-human races from the deep sea of the far north. These insect-like monsters seemed utterly incompatible with everything around them; once they took root, they would senselessly begin to destroy all surrounding natural existence.

“I really wish we had enough Airships and aerial bombs to bury them completely in this valley fissure.”

The Eye of Illusion, busy maneuvering the Airship, heard this quiet complaint and couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m afraid that right now, in all the Airships hanging in the sky, everyone is having the same thought…”

As they spoke, Duncan’s Airship up ahead sent the signal to begin the operation. The Eye of Illusion took a deep breath and, with a slightly clumsy motion, pulled a mechanical lever, causing five aerial bombs to slide along a simple track into position at the bomb bay opening beneath the gondola.

“Ready to countdown. Three, two, one! Drop bombs!”

When the next command came through the alchemical communicator, the Astrologer pulled the crank with him.

The heavy, high-explosive aerial bombs instantly detached from the loosened clasps of the bomb bay, plummeting silently and swiftly toward the enormous floating island directly below.

Chapter 548: Death from Above

“All units, be advised. We will reach the target area in ten minutes!”

Dav struggled to stuff the palm-sized alchemical communicator back into his breast pocket. The hide carapace, scavenged from a corpse, was an extremely poor fit. The joints, twisted and swollen, seemed ready to burst from the bulging muscles of the Bloodline Warrior beneath, making even basic, flexible movements difficult. Many of his men had been forced to cut open the joints, tightly wrapping the exposed skin with strips of cloth coated in optical camouflage.

High in the sky, the airship squad, concealed by clouds, began to slowly descend. Under the cover of moonlight, many Demonic Lizardmen on the ground spotted the strange aircraft above and paused their work to look up.

The airships eventually hovered one hundred meters above the Floating Island. A short while later, Dav faintly heard a peculiar whistling sound falling from the sky, like someone blowing a whistle with all their might—it was the sound of the heavy metal casings of high-explosive aerial bombs cutting through the air.

The attention of many Demonic Lizardmen was immediately captivated. They even climbed up and stood on the surface of the Floating Island, craning their necks to watch a scene that defied their understanding.

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, the dozens of metal cones dropped by the strange aircraft in the sky plunged toward the top of the Floating Island like silent reapers.

Boom! BOOM!

A massive, crimson fireball erupted violently. The top of the Floating Island fortress looked like a small, erupting volcano, as scorching fire and smoke, mixed with countless flying chunks of debris, shot toward the heavens.

The Demonic Lizardmen standing at the impact point were instantly annihilated, leaving no trace behind. The intense airflow from the explosion expanded upward before forming a fierce cyclone that spread outward. Countless Demonic Lizardmen standing on top of the Floating Island were struck as if by an invisible steel hammer, thrown into the air almost instantly, their shattered bodies plummeting down with broken limbs and bones.

A violent rain of flesh and blood fell upon the calm surface of the water, quickly dyeing it completely red.

The shockwave from the explosion dissipated rapidly. Although it only affected an area less than two hundred meters across on the island’s summit, the fragments that were blasted loose and disintegrated rained down in all directions, indiscriminately smashing into the stunned enemies standing on the ground below.

These dumbstruck Demonic Lizardmen became the best targets. Having lost the cover of the trees, they were mercilessly pelted by shrapnel in the desolate, cleared logging area.

This was only the first wave of bombing. According to the plan, the fifty high-explosive aerial bombs were to be dropped by the bombing squad in five separate runs, repeatedly hitting the top of the Floating Island at low altitude.

Before the enemy could fully react, the airships in the sky changed formation again. Several airships assigned to the second wave reassembled directly over the Floating Island. Another dozen aerial bombs slid silently downward, once again aimed at the same impact point.

The Demonic Lizardmen who had been lucky enough to survive the first wave finally came to their senses. They began to flee the area around the Floating Island on their long, twisted legs, realizing that as long as they were far enough away, they wouldn’t be hit by the debris falling from the explosions on top.

The crimson water around the Floating Island also began to churn. A large number of Demonic Lizardmen-–who had been active inside the island–started to exit through underwater openings, climbing ashore like ants and scattering into the distance.

“It looks like the aerial bombs have breached the top of the Floating Island and caused some internal damage!” Dav and his men whispered as they quietly approached under the cover of the chaotic scene, hiding behind a large pile of fallen trees in the night.

He reinserted the magazine into the magazine well of his Magical Energy Gun with a crisp metallic click. Looking up at the sky again, he saw a glowing white light repeatedly flashing from the gondola of one of the airships—it was the signal for the infiltration to begin. It also meant the third bombing run would be temporarily delayed, giving them about ten minutes to complete their intelligence gathering inside the Floating Island.

More and more Demonic Lizardmen emerged from the water. The thick smoke and flames rising from the top of the Floating Island nearly blotted out the sky. The high-explosive aerial bombs, mixed with Dragon’s Flame powder, had an incendiary effect. Even though there was nothing flammable on the island’s surface, they had still ignited a roiling sea of fire.

“Prepare to enter the water!” Dav ordered in a low voice. He led the special forces soldiers, crouching as they moved through the logging debris and silently reached the water’s edge. A Demonic Lizardman, its lower body caught in the explosion and both legs blown clean off, had fallen from above but had somehow not died instantly. It struggled to rise, its crystalline faceplate nearly shattered. Though it made no sound, it seemed to be trying to turn its head to warn the large group of its kind that was fleeing in the distance.

Crack!

The next second, its head suddenly twisted a full one hundred and eighty degrees. Dav struck swiftly and ruthlessly, nipping the risk of exposure in the bud without hesitation.

“Chief! Why not wait and see how this damn thing communicates with its kind?”

“Are you an idiot? If we’re exposed before we even get inside and there are still enemies garrisoned in the Floating Island, wouldn’t they have us cornered?”

The special forces squad slipped silently into the water. Soaked in the bone-chilling water of the underground river, they swam down toward a deep fissure in the Floating Island. From the bombing, they had observed that there were clearly hundreds, if not thousands, of underwater entrances and exits, all facing different directions. The fissure they had chosen was one from which enemies were not emerging frequently.

After quickly approaching the fissure, the squad pressed themselves against its sides at the bottom of the water and waited for another thirty seconds. As expected, they ran into a few panicked Demonic Lizardmen trying to squeeze out. The alchemical prism spikes held tightly in their hands quickly and easily pierced their necks and chests. Before they could react, their bodies slowly sank into the depths with the current.

His Majesty had personally explained the weaknesses of these monsters to them—as long as their hide carapace was breached and they were “deflated,” their internal flesh and muscle would be exposed, and death would not be far off.

“So what if you’re naturally magic-resistant? Let me show you the power of a mortal’s physical attack!” Dav sneered inwardly. With a hand signal to the rest of his men, he was the first to slip into the fissure.

It felt like passing through an invisible, transparent membrane. Dav immediately found himself out of the water and inside a tunnel. Inlaid in the tunnel’s ceiling were irregular crystals, similar to magic stones. They were the same deep red as the Demonic Lizardmen’s crystalline faceplates and pulsed slowly with a faint crimson light, illuminating their surroundings with each “breath.”

The air was filled with the foul stench of rust and blood. The floor felt sticky underfoot; it seemed an enemy had knocked over a black water weapon canister in a panic, spilling black water all over the tunnel floor.

Fortunately, the bombing above hadn’t affected the underwater sections of the Floating Island. Otherwise, this flammable black water would have likely ignited the entire place, turning it into an impassable sea of fire.

“Chief, feel the walls,” a soldier’s muffled voice buzzed through his crystalline faceplate. “They’re soft!”

Dav reached out and touched the uneven inner wall of the Floating Island. It was wet and sticky, giving off the eerie sensation of having entered the stomach of some prehistoric behemoth.

This thing had been navigating the deep-sea underground rivers for years, so it was naturally not made of the steel and rock they had anticipated. But the material was so bizarre that none of the squad members could identify it. Carefully, Dav used a prism spike to pry off a piece of the sticky inner wall and placed it in his tactical pouch. “This tunnel by the fissure must connect to other areas inside,” he said in a low voice. “We’ll advance cautiously. Record everything we see with the Recording Stones!”

“Yes, sir!” the soldiers responded with a unanimous nod. They had just taken a step forward when the sound of wet footsteps echoed from around a bend in the tunnel.

Five or six Demonic Lizardmen, each carrying a black water weapon canister, were clustered around a taller, more twisted figure in their midst, hurrying toward the fissure exit.

Dav’s eyes narrowed. He was struck by the realization that the creature in the center was not carrying a black canister like the others!

It was a Red Lizardman!

Chapter 549: Key Intelligence

Both sides were clearly stunned by the sudden encounter, but Dav’s infiltration squad was the first to react. Though their Commander hadn’t given the order, they drew their alchemical daggers and spikes in unison, a testament to their extensive combat experience.

Dav took a deep breath, kicked off the hard tunnel floor, and charged the enemy, spike in hand… The five or six Black Lizardmen scattered instantly, and the Red Lizardman they surrounded thrust out a hand. A bolt of red-light lightning shot from its palm, flying straight for Dav.

In a flash, Dav twisted his waist and flipped backward, the red light grazing past his sideways-turned body. In an instant, he was upon a Black Lizardman on the outer edge, his sharp spike silently plunging into the creature’s neck. As he withdrew it, dark red blood mingled with thick black water erupted from the finger-sized puncture wound.

The enemy barely had time to react. Clutching its gushing neck, it convulsed and collapsed to the ground.

With almost no pause, the powerful Bloodline Warrior coiled and crashed into another enemy. He was met with a crystalline shield hastily formed from black water… A cold light flashed from Dav’s hand. His spike struck the black shield, scraping off a shower of bright sparks, but it failed to pierce the enemy’s carapace as he had intended.

Deputy leader Callum attacked at nearly the same moment. His alchemical dagger spun in a flexible arc of light as he gracefully slit a Black Lizardman’s throat from the other side. Viscous, dark red blood trickled down the corded muscles of his forearm. The enemy shot a volley of fine black spikes from its wrist, all of which slammed into the hide covering his face for camouflage, shattering the dark red crystalline faceplate beneath like a spiderweb.

The extremely narrow tunnel instantly became a bloody stage for the two squad leaders. A bolt of red-light lightning slammed into the tunnel’s soft inner wall, blasting open a crater the size of a human head. A slick, viscous fluid splattered out, causing the inner wall to writhe violently. The wound contracted frantically, trembling as if it were a living thing.

“This thing is alive?” the soldier responsible for holding the Recording Stone aloft exclaimed in a low voice. He immediately turned the stone’s misty light toward the wall, diligently recording the scene as his duty required.

A soldier who had awakened the Frenzy bloodline roared as his muscles bulged, tearing his tough hide camouflage. Wielding two daggers, he charged into the enemy ranks, sending two Black Lizardmen with their crystalline shields raised flying. But in doing so, he met the Red Lizardman’s second blast of red-light lightning head-on.

With a loud crackle, a puff of green smoke rose from the Frenzy warrior’s large frame. The plasma turbulence from the lightning blast coursed over his body, and the brief electrical paralysis brought his violent charge to a halt. He became entangled with an enemy that had formed a longsword from black water, and both of them fell to the ground in a heap.

The Frenzy soldier’s crystalline faceplate, which had been loosely fastened, fell off in the heavy fall. The Black Lizardman entangled with him seemed to freeze for a moment, finally getting a clear look at the twisted, beastlike face beneath the mask—the sharp, protruding fangs… and the savage, scarlet eyes.

Paralysis prevented the Frenzy soldier from struggling to his feet for a moment, but having his disguise exposed only aroused his ferocity. Facing the enemy he had taken down with him, he gave a savage grin and delivered a heavy headbutt to its face.

With a sharp crack, the Black Lizardman’s faceplate shattered in turn. More red light burst from the cracks, electrocuting the soldier. His legs kicked out once, and then he went still.

“Dammit, I never should have brought this Blockhead on the mission!” Dav cursed inwardly amidst the chaos. The Frenzy bloodline could indeed grant immunity to many non-lethal injuries and an extremely high tolerance for pain… but the drawback was just as fatal. They became too reckless, losing their senses and growing as bloodthirsty and uncontrollable as wild beasts.

Fortunately, in the blink of an eye, over half the enemy had been annihilated in the sudden skirmish. The only ones left were three Black Lizardmen huddled around their red leader, retreating steadily and looking like they intended to flee.

The leader, having unleashed two red-light attacks in a short time, now looked somewhat drained. This confirmed that each attack consumed a certain amount of energy; it couldn’t use this terrifying, otherworldly magic without limit.

“Intercept them!” Dav ordered decisively. The remaining Bloodline Warriors, who had been eager to join the fray, immediately understood. One soldier who had awakened the Great Strength talent grabbed a dead enemy from the floor, swung it around, and hurled it directly at the fleeing group.

In the middle of the crowded fight, Dav suddenly let out a muffled grunt. He turned his head and saw that the hide camouflage on his shoulder had long since been torn by his flexing muscles. A crystalline spike, shot from an unknown direction, had pierced the exposed flesh. But the wound was already writhing and healing at a visible rate, slowly pushing the spike out.

A soldier nicknamed “Spider” leaped nimbly into the air. Using his agile bloodline talent, he ran along the soft side wall of the tunnel, vaulted over the congested front line, and landed steadily behind the enemy, cutting off their path of retreat.

The drained Red Lizardman suddenly threw its head back. A thin red electrical current shot from within its crystalline faceplate and, with a snap, struck a pulsing, glowing crystal on the ceiling. The crystal instantly changed its rhythmic flashing, transforming into a dim streak of light that shot away down the tunnel.

“They might be warning their comrades and calling for reinforcements!” Dav instantly guessed its purpose. With a low growl, he lunged at the remaining enemies once more—they had to deal with this problem as quickly as possible, then leave this tunnel and move to another area to avoid any potential support troops!

The Black Lizardmen simultaneously formed long whips of black water and crystalline shields, desperately trying to defend themselves and tie up their attackers… The soldier with the Great Strength talent ignored the sharp spikes on one of the whips, grabbing it directly and yanking hard. He pulled a Black Lizardman stumbling out from the shrinking defensive circle. His rough, bloody fingers clamped down on top of its head, and the sound of bones cracking echoed instantly.

Taking advantage of the opening in the enemy’s defense, Dav and Callum flashed in from the left and right. With a glint of cold light from their sharp spikes, they precisely pierced the temples of the last two Black Lizardmen. Then, they narrowly dodged a point-blank blast of red light from the Red Lizardman.

After forcing out that final blast of red light, even the swollen sacs on the sides of the Red Lizardman’s head deflated. It slid down against the inner wall of the tunnel, coming to a rest seated on the floor. Its head tilted gently to one side, and it fell silent.

Dav snorted, reversed his grip on his spike, and prepared to smash it down on the creature’s skull… but in that instant, he noticed the section of wall the enemy was leaning against begin to tremble and writhe. A fissure suddenly opened up and swiftly swallowed the Red Lizardman’s corpse.

Stunned, the squad members looked around and saw that the corpses of the Black Lizardmen killed in the fierce battle were also slowly melting into the once-hard tunnel floor, amidst the foul-smelling black liquid that now flowed everywhere.

Dav frowned. From the left side of the tunnel, he could hear the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching from a distance. In a hoarse voice, he said to his soldiers, “Something’s wrong! This Floating Island fortress… I think it’s really a giant, bizarre living creature! We’ll push on to the other side!”

Chapter 550: Regeneration Chamber

“Is Wolf Head dead?” Dav walked over to the Frenzy warrior lying on the ground, prodding his muscle-bound body as he asked in a low, frowning voice.

A close-quarters engagement, ten against seven. Even though the enemy had a Red Lizardman capable of red-light attacks, suffering a casualty right at the start of the operation still made his heart ache… These were all close comrades-in-arms. The bloodline bond that formed after they awakened their talents made them as close as brothers; the death of any one of them would cast a pall over the rest.

“Just gave him a shot of a revival potion, Chief…”

Before the words were even out, Wolf Head shot straight up from the ground. The skin on his front, charred black by the electricity, flaked off, revealing the bright red muscle furiously growing underneath. His face, already ferocious from his Frenzy, now looked even more hideously twisted.

“Hiss! Chief… this corpse hide we’re wearing seems to have some resistance to that terrifying red-light lightning!” Wolf Head touched the massive, rapidly healing wound on his body and couldn’t help but groan in pain.

Dav’s heart eased. He nodded for Great Strength to pull Wolf Head up, and they quickly jogged away from the area.

“If we encounter more enemies, try to use piercing attacks. Don’t shatter their faceplates so easily, and be extra careful to avoid that red-light lightning. Wolf Head was lucky to get his life back this time. He won’t be so fortunate next time,” Dav reminded his men as they retreated.

The Demonic Lizardmen weren’t very effective against the Bloodline Warriors in close combat. For one, it had been a sudden encounter, and the infiltration squad had used their camouflage to launch a surprise attack, catching them off guard. For another, it was indeed because this non-human race’s talents seemed designed solely to counter the magical attacks of Spellcasters… From their highly magic-resistant hide carapaces to their fluidly morphing black water weapons, their surprise attacks, which carried no mana fluctuations, were incredibly difficult for Spellcasters to defend against.

But the Bloodline Warriors, with their violent physical attacks, and the mortal soldiers, with their Magical Energy Guns, were able to turn the tables and put them at a disadvantage. As for why the Magical Energy Gun, which was also driven by mana, could bypass their magic-resistant barrier and inflict fatal damage… not even His Majesty Harvey and those high-rank research mages had completely figured that out, so rough men like Dav were even more clueless.

…

The squad advanced quickly and silently, cautiously making their way along a narrow passageway until they reached an open area—a circular space with the same kind of flickering, glowing crystals embedded in the ceiling. Numerous thin pipes hung down from above, and hundreds of rust-stained black water weapon canisters were connected to the ends of the pipes, resting quietly on the central floor.

This was the chamber where the Demonic Lizardmen refilled their black water weapons!

Dav went forward and yanked a pipe loose. As expected, a thick, viscous black water, reeking of iron and rot, gushed from the broken end… An idea struck him. He turned and gave a look to the soldier in charge of demolitions. The man immediately understood, pulling a brick-sized, square alchemical bomb from his pack.

This was a new gadget recently developed by Chris’s Alchemy Laboratory, a byproduct of the high-explosive magical energy aerial bomb. It contained two magic stone particles with mutually-exclusive elements embedded inside. Once activated, one only had to wait thirty seconds for the collision of the magic stone elements’ energies to instantly detonate the compressed, high-concentration Dragon’s Flame powder.

The intense mana fluctuation would not only successfully draw the Demonic Lizardmen closer, but the subsequent shockwave would also blast the hundreds of neatly arranged steel balls within the bomb outward, riddling any Demonic Lizardmen within a radius of dozens of meters like sieves.

They had brought a full ten of these alchemical bomb bricks on this mission. Destroying one of the enemy’s chambers for filling liquid weapons was more than enough!

Another violent tremor and a loud boom came from above, and the walls of the entire chamber pulsed and squirmed in response… Dav mentally calculated the time. The Bombing squad was likely about to begin its final bombing run, which meant they didn’t have much time left.

Leaving two activated alchemical bombs behind, the squad no longer cared about being exposed. They sprinted away from the weapon chamber, which was about to be engulfed in flames, and pushed forward for some distance… only to arrive in another open space and find another black water chamber.

They left two more timed “bricks” and, under the cover of the massive explosions behind them, the ten men once again dashed forward.

The floor of the passageway beneath their feet seemed to be sloped slightly. Dav keenly realized… he seemed to be running on a one-way path with no forks, one that spiraled constantly upward.

The interior of the Floating Island fortress was not, in fact, a sprawling, web-like maze like a beetle nest. Instead, each fissure-like entrance at the bottom corresponded to a single spiral passageway, along with several black water weapon supply chambers.

The change in elevation as they ascended and the feedback from the bombing reverberations above indicated that after entering from underwater, the infiltration squad had not yet reached the part of the Floating Island that was above the water’s surface… If every fissure represented a spiral passageway, then there were at least several hundred independent spatial zones inside the Floating Island. And the end of the spiraling passageways—that had to be the fortress’s core, where all the passages converged!

“Chief! Should we plant more?” The demolitions soldier hefted the four remaining bricks in his hand. “Shouldn’t we save one to blow through the island’s inner wall and open an exit to the outside for our retreat?”

“The Recording Stone is almost out of power. Besides the weapon chambers, there doesn’t seem to be anything else in this passageway… Where did all the other Demonic Lizardmen go?”

Assuming one passageway corresponded to a single combat squad… there should have been at least a hundred enemies here. Hadn’t His Majesty estimated that there were between twenty and thirty thousand enemies inside Floating Island Number 1?

But as Dav and his men pushed upward, besides the squad of fewer than ten led by the Red Lizardman they had encountered right at the start, they had only killed four or five stragglers fleeing downward along the way. Even if the initial bombing had spooked many Demonic Lizardmen into escaping, there surely had to be more than this inside… Where were the rest of them hiding?

The three weapon chambers they had blown up behind them blocked any pursuers. The thick, metallic stench of the instantly ignited black water, mixed with a searing hot draft, surged upward. Any further and they would likely enter the zone affected by the aerial bombardment, and the risk of being hit by friendly fire was too great. Dav felt that pushing on to the last weapon chamber ahead was enough. The remaining four alchemical bombs would be perfect for blasting open the chamber wall to create an escape route.

“Huh? This isn’t a weapon chamber!” said the Great Strength warrior, who was carrying Wolf Head on his back. “Chief, look! There are no pipes for carrying black water hanging from the ceiling, and the walls look kind of stra—”

Before he could finish, the men suddenly felt a strange vibration from the ground beneath their feet, as if they were standing on a massive, unparalleled artery of some primordial beast. A pulse throbbed, wave after wave. Countless fissures split open on the chamber walls, and a flood of Demonic Lizardmen, each carrying a black water tank, poured out from within the walls, instantly blocking the squad’s path forward!

“Dammit! They were hiding in the passageway walls!”

“No wonder the dead Demonic Lizardmen get swallowed up. Do they get eaten when they die and then get spit back out alive?”

Dav had no time to think. He quickly drew the revolver from his waist. There was no worrying about the energy fluctuations from a magical weapon attracting more enemies now. Facing a hundred of them… enchanted metal melee weapons alone wouldn’t be enough to handle this easily.

“Fire! Fire! Buy time for the demolitions man! As soon as the wall is breached, we retreat!”

Chapter 551: Air Superiority

“Did they manage to retreat from the Floating Island fortress successfully?” Eye of Illusion closed the bomb release lever again and turned to ask the Astrologer, who was standing by the gondola’s observation window.

The Astrologer put away the alchemical communicator in her hand and replied coolly, “The infiltration squad encountered a large number of enemies on the Floating Island. They managed to break out by blasting an opening with a large amount of alchemical explosives… There are seriously wounded members. Teacher has already gone down to provide support and meet them.”

Eye of Illusion rubbed his hands together and suggested, “All the aerial bombs have been dropped. Should we go down to reinforce them? We could also clear out the Demonic Lizardmen loitering around the perimeter of the Floating Island while we’re at it.”

“His Majesty’s orders do not permit such an action…” The Astrologer, not even bothering to turn her head, said icily, “According to the operational plan, only Teacher has the authority to leave the airship alone after receiving a distress signal. I suggest you do not act on your own.”

Rebuffed, Eye of Illusion nodded awkwardly and moved to the observation window to look down with her.

The flames and smoke from the saturation bombing were gradually dissipating. The silver moon, hanging over the mountain peak and about to set, was still bright and clear… Without the cover of clouds and smoke, the ten airships hovering high in the sky were exceptionally conspicuous.

“You know… these monsters can sense the surge of mana in our bodies, yet they don’t react at all to Magical Energy Gun rounds or shells infused with liquid magical energy. What do you think is the reason for that?”

The Astrologer paused for a moment, giving Eye of Illusion a surprised look. “Why have you suddenly started using your brain? Isn’t theoretical research what you claim to be worst at?”

“Heh, doesn’t His Majesty always promote that slogan, ‘knowledge is born from practice’, at the Academy of Sciences?” Eye of Illusion let out an awkward laugh. “In my opinion, combat can also yield precious truths and knowledge.”

“The Demonic Lizardmen’s lack of perception towards pure magical energy… neither His Majesty nor the Academy of Sciences has figured out anything yet…” The Astrologer murmured softly, staring blankly at the scene below. “Teacher also tried discussing it with Dean Arturo. They think these monsters seem to have been born specifically to counter Spellcasters. In His Majesty’s words, their species’ evolutionary path was ‘specced’ that way.”

To counter Spellcasters again… The magical energy weapons developed by His Majesty, which mortals could wield, were also proclaimed by the high-ranking officials in the Military Command as capable of toppling the lofty transcendent beings. And now, the invading non-human enemy also possessed a natural talent for perfectly resisting mana.

A sense of shame, anger, and frustration welled up in Eye of Illusion’s heart. He managed to retort, “It’s not a complete counter. Even without magical energy weapons, Spellcasters have many ways to deal with these monsters that can only operate in the deep sea and on land… Don’t forget, we have mastered the ability to fly.”

That’s right… Through the mysteries of magic, humanity had endured great hardships to finally possess the privilege of conquering the skies, a feat comparable to the ancient Dragons who were born to it. It was precisely because of this that during the War of the Dragons, Humans, in alliance with the Demons and many other short-lived races, were able to utterly defeat the ancient Dragons that had ruled the land for thousands of years, ultimately leading to their gradual decline and demise.

The Astrologer narrowed her eyes, delivering a fatal blow in an instant. “Don’t forget that we were once a defeated race, driven into exile. If flight alone was enough to crush our enemies, then why were we forced to the Corner of the Continent? Don’t tell me it’s because ancient high-rank wizards didn’t know how to fly?”

Eye of Illusion was immediately choked speechless. Puffing his cheeks in frustration, he could only pick up the custom-made sniper-type Magical Energy Gun from the weapon rack and mutter, “You’re right about everything, but magical energy weapons were also created by Spellcasters… They have nothing to do with mortals. In the future, His Majesty will surely become a Great Being on par with the founder of the Federation, that hidden, legendary Great Being!”

Before he could finish his boastful praise, the Astrologer’s eyes suddenly narrowed. She pointed down and exclaimed in shock, “Look! On top of the Floating Island!”

The top of the Floating Island fortress, which had been blasted to pieces and pitted with craters by dozens of high-explosive aerial bombs, now had seven or eight strange protrusions jutting out, standing like miniature volcanoes.

With the enhanced, superior vision of an Illusionist, Eye of Illusion could even see those volcano-like shapes constantly contracting and writhing… His rich combat experience immediately told him something was wrong. It felt as if, despite being hundreds of meters in the air, he was being keenly watched by something strange.

A layer of sticky cold sweat broke out on his back. Just as he reached for the communicator on his belt, at almost the exact same moment… the volcano-like vents that had suddenly appeared on the Floating Island below all shot out thick streams of viscous black liquid.

The moment the liquid left the volcanic vents, it immediately solidified into a thick, black crystalline spike, rocketing towards the cluster of hovering airships with lightning speed.

“Accelerate and ascend!” The Astrologer turned and lunged for the Magic Core that controlled the airship’s power. But at the last second, Eye of Illusion grabbed her, kicked open the maintenance hatch on the gondola’s ceiling, and shot out diagonally like a bolt of lightning.

After a deafening explosion, the two, who had managed to stabilize themselves in mid-air, turned to look. The airship that had just been hovering in the sky was pierced straight through its gondola and the gasbag above by a massive crystalline spike. The violent impact directly detonated the magical-powered core and the storage canisters, turning it into a giant cloud of fire. Then, fragments of the exploding airship scattered in all directions… with the heaviest part, the wreckage of the gondola, plummeting from the sky.

“They actually have weapons that can lock onto aerial targets and launch a direct counter-attack!” Eye of Illusion’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Then why didn’t they react immediately when we started our bombing run?”

The Astrologer said nothing, casting a flight spell and speeding towards another unfortunate airship whose gasbag had been hit… The companions aboard that airship were mid-rank Mages with no ability to escape on their own.

A single volley of black spikes from the Floating Island below had dealt a fatal blow to three airships in the aerial formation—two were detonated on impact, and one, its gasbag pierced, was slowly falling to the ground. Fortunately, the only two high-rank individuals capable of flight arrived in time to rescue their panicked and despairing comrades.

The remaining airships immediately broke formation. Some rapidly gained altitude, while others moved horizontally towards the sides of the valley to evade. Fortunately, the black water vents that had abruptly appeared on the Floating Island did not launch another volley right away, giving the survivors a chance to react and escape.

…

“How could this happen?” Harvey shot up from his chair, both shocked and furious, pointing at the frontline intelligence report that had just arrived half an hour ago—two Recording Stones, one detailing the infiltration squad’s battle and the other the air squad’s.

Although the infiltration squad had paid the price of three heavily wounded members, at least there were no casualties. The intelligence they brought back from inside the Floating Island still awaited analysis.

But the air squad’s situation was completely unexpected. The air superiority they had relied on had been met with a sudden, targeted counter-attack from the enemy, catching them completely off guard.

So the Demonic Lizardmen did have the ability to counter aerial attacks…

But why didn’t they use it at the very beginning of the attack? This was the great question lingering in everyone’s mind.

Harvey stared blankly at the scene displayed by the Recording Stone, a thought too dreadful to accept suddenly flashing through his mind.

Could it be… that the Demonic Lizardmen’s anti-air counter-attack weapon… was something they suddenly… suddenly evolved in a very short amount of time… after being attacked from the air?

Chapter 552: A Discussion on Evolution

In the spacious grand conference hall of Harvey’s castle, nearly every high-ranking official from Starfire City involved in the nation’s military was present. Dozens of young staff officers from the General Staff Headquarters hurried about, taking the place of attendants to quickly distribute large stacks of freshly printed battle reports.

Harvey sat on the throne at the head of the long conference table, his expression grave as he stared straight ahead. Below him, the assembled officials either bowed their heads to study the reports or occasionally glanced up, waiting for the meeting to begin.

He tapped his fingers lightly on the armrest a few times. The faint sound immediately silenced the officials who were still whispering amongst themselves, and all eyes turned to His Majesty the Emperor.

“I trust you have all repeatedly reviewed the intelligence recorded on the Recording Stones by our frontline combat units,” Harvey said, clearing his throat. “Let us discuss and analyze this. How exactly can we fully uncover the true nature of the enemy we now face?”

Black water weapons, red plasma, magic-resistant soft armor… and the deep-diving Floating Island that could traverse the underground rivers of the abyss.

As their combat encounters with the Demonic Lizardmen increased, these mysteries were slowly being unraveled. But each answer only brought more unexpected questions. Large-scale battles had yet to occur, yet humanity couldn’t even grasp the full extent of the enemy’s combat methods, let alone predict the true power of those methods.

The newly formed General Staff Headquarters had no chief of its own; it was under the direct command of the nation’s supreme commander, His Majesty the Emperor himself. Although he had been nothing more than an “armchair strategist and military enthusiast” in his past life, in this otherworld, Harvey prided himself on possessing a considerable amount of advanced strategic vision.

With the Emperor’s question posed, Pierce, as the highest-ranking commander of the military, was naturally the first to step forward and offer his opinion.

“Your Majesty, in our previous internal discussions regarding the non-human race’s ability to ‘evolve,’ which you mentioned, I believe there is a strong possibility…” Pierce stood up and walked to the projection slate for the Recording Stone, playing the combat footage once more.

“During this infiltration mission, our aerial units were in operation for over half an hour, from arrival to withdrawal. Aside from using the darkness and cloud cover to conceal their movements at the beginning, the subsequent air combat was almost entirely out in the open, intentionally drawing the enemy’s attention to create an opening for the ground troops.”

He paused for a moment. This long speech was clearly prepared in advance, his analysis sound and methodical. “Therefore, if the enemy already possessed countermeasures for aerial bombardment, it’s unlikely they would have waited until our operation was nearly over and we were about to withdraw to respond.”

Before he could finish, Astaren interjected thoughtfully, “Basing our guess solely on their reaction time seems a bit arbitrary. Perhaps this anti-air weapon is slow to activate. Or perhaps they were simply caught off guard. The Demonic Lizardmen’s black water weapon canisters require constant resupply. It’s possible this black water jet that fires crystalline spikes also needs to be charged well in advance before it can be used, isn’t it?”

Pierce nodded and switched the Recording Stone’s image to the interior of the Floating Island. “Then let’s look at the feedback from the Infiltration Squad. The entire interior of the Floating Island is filled with a large number of completely independent spiral passages. Each passage corresponds to a Demonic Lizardman combat unit of several hundred, which includes a number of higher-ranking Red Lizardmen leaders. Enemies killed in battle are directly consumed by the Floating Island, while living enemies can hide within the walls of the island’s chambers. Once an enemy is spotted and an alarm is raised, they immediately swarm out to repel the invaders.”

He replayed a segment of the footage from just before Dav and his team withdrew, his expression grave. “We have every reason to believe that the entire massive Floating Island fortress is a single, complete, living entity with a certain degree of intelligence and cognitive ability. It can autonomously secrete large amounts of black water to supply the vast number of combat individuals in its population for use as weapons. The forms the Demonic Lizardmen can create with black water, the Floating Island can create as well.”

This assessment actually stemmed mainly from Harvey’s own conjectures. After all, it was entirely possible for these oviparous, insect-like monsters that reproduced in vast numbers to have a mother hive and numerous sub-hives, just like a swarm. It was also highly likely that a leader with the status of a “queen bee” existed within the hives to act as the commander, or perhaps… the sub-hive itself was the “queen bee” with its own intelligence and cognitive abilities.

Chris also rose to his feet and said slowly, “We have analyzed the fragments of tissue from inside the hive brought back by the Infiltration Squad. It is a material completely unrelated to any non-living matter. Although the detached pieces showed no signs of life, they are indeed from a biological organism, as soft as flesh and blood, with a muscular texture.”

Harvey waved his hand and pressed, “What are the properties of this biological material?”

Benoit, holding a stack of test reports, recited from them, “The material from the inner walls of the Floating Island is not particularly unique. Not only can magical attacks shatter it, but even ordinary high temperatures from fire can quickly carbonize it… It is unlike the Demonic Lizardmen’s hide carapace, more like a piece of fragile, dead meat.”

Its only distinctive features were its ability to absorb its deceased kin and to conceal living specimens within itself.

“But the outer shell on top of the Floating Island, which was shattered by high-explosive aerial bombs, is markedly different… It’s more like the scales or carapace of some ancient draconic creature—hard, fire-resistant, and with extremely high water-repellent properties.”

Harvey gave a wry smile and quipped, “So the soldiers’ guess was right. This thing really is a giant, living turtle that can dive freely in deep water, with a hard shell on the outside and soft, vulnerable flesh on the inside.”

And it was a turtle that could actively identify hostile targets and flexibly counterattack with liquid weaponry.

Its flaw of being enormous and slow-moving was perfectly compensated for by the hundreds of thousands of combat individuals in its population.

Harvey couldn’t help but be reminded of a certain real-time strategy game from his past life called “StarCraft,” and its alien race that relied on mass-producing units, rapidly expanding through sub-hives, and using “swarm” tactics to deplete their opponent’s resources and control the pace of the battle with aggressive rhythm.

Furthermore, intelligence from Chief Dawson indicated that the enemy’s hatcheries for “mass-producing units” were located in the hidden depths of the sea, completely beyond human reconnaissance, and there was more than one. The combat units that emerged didn’t even need a “larval” stage; they possessed formidable and agile combat capabilities almost instantly.

This was something the cheap, expendable cannon fodder like “Zerglings” and “Hydralisks” from the game couldn’t compare to.

Fortunately, the enemy was currently engaged in a multi-front invasion, and their sub-hives were still in the developmental stage. The Northern Barren Lands and Isengard could still rely on their vast strategic depth, trading distance for some breathing room for the south.

Floating Island Number 1 and Number 2 main island stored a “swarm” of over one hundred thousand combat units. There might be even more sub-hive fortresses lurking in the underground rivers deep within the continent’s crust that had yet to be discovered. The thought alone sent a chill down Harvey’s spine, making him feel as if he were sitting on pins and needles.

How could humanity possibly win this war?

Harvey couldn’t help but mock himself inwardly. They could probably only brace themselves and frantically advance humanity’s own magical technology, to see if a magical version of an “overwhelming aerial assault” and “AOE” fire coverage could defeat them as he hoped…

Chapter 553: Strategic Withdrawal

“What did His Majesty and Military Command say?” Dav rushed into the tent, grabbing Wayne, who was conferring with his staff officers, and peppering him with questions. “Are they really making us abandon the forward outpost we worked so hard to establish and have the entire army withdraw south?”

Wayne nodded with some difficulty and sighed. “That’s right. Floating Island Number 1 has deployed a large number of Demonic Lizardmen soldiers. They’ve occupied the entire Great Rift valley with incredible speed and are now exploring the surrounding areas… If we don’t withdraw now, the forward outpost will be completely exposed.”

Their estimate of the forces on Floating Island Number 1 had been too conservative. It wasn’t until the airship units arrived that the Expeditionary Force got a clear picture of the mobile, living fortress—it was carrying nearly thirty thousand combat units.

Thirty thousand Demonic Lizardmen. By proportion, that meant… there were at least several hundred Red Lizardmen capable of manipulating red lightning. The Expeditionary Force, lacking ammunition resupply and fire support, was no match for them.

Fortunately, their main direction of attack was currently southeast, towards Isengard’s northernmost border city, Belek, which was the closest to the Spine of the Continent Mountains. The Expeditionary Force’s new objective was to the northwest, at the Emerald Oasis. They would travel there to join the followers of the Stoneheart Hermits and protect The Rootless People living in the oasis area as they migrated south, eventually crossing the border of Da’ers into St. Valen.

Dav slammed his hands on the table, indignant. “It must have been those cowards at Military Command who influenced His Majesty’s judgment! We can still organize another offensive and try to land another devastating blow on Floating Island Number 1!”

The long-range teleportation array was built, and the airships and high-explosive aerial bombs had been delivered… Why not take this opportunity to send reinforcements, deploy their most reliable heavy ground artillery, and have a proper, large-scale ground battle with these non-human vermin?

“Because His Majesty doesn’t want to get into a war of attrition with the Demonic Lizardmen!” The Eye of Illusion swept aside the tent flap and walked in with a smile. “A war of attrition isn’t our best option. Our soldiers’ lives are far more precious than the combat units the Demonic Lizardmen hatch in batches. Until we are certain of victory… holding our position and building up more of our effective strength is the correct course of action.”

And the people of the Borderland Tribes, about to be exposed to the enemy’s blade, were precisely the effective strength they needed.

“So we’re just going to run away with our tails between our legs?” Dav’s eyes widened, unable to swallow his pride.

The Eye of Illusion pursed his lips and corrected him, “Run away? Didn’t His Majesty say it? This is called a strategic withdrawal!”

“Then… what about Belek? That’s the largest city on Isengard’s northern border. Even without counting the scattered people on the surrounding ranches, there are probably over ten thousand people. The Demonic Lizardmen aren’t known for treating prisoners well.”

The Eye of Illusion sighed and shrugged helplessly. “His Majesty has already sent two letters to Prince Regent Andrew, the de facto ruler in Ironhill, warning him about the Demonic Lizardmen invasion in the north, but he has received no reply…”

The last time, he even bypassed the Isengard royal family, using Earl Fegan’s noble connections by marriage to contact the Duke of Belek directly, urging him to organize an evacuation of the city’s populace to the south… only to be scorned and have his warning dismissed as nonsense.

“A bunch of short-sighted, greedy pigs!” Wayne spat contemptuously, though he knew this was all His Majesty could do… He couldn’t just ignore the treaties between the nations of the south, declare all-out war on Isengard, and brazenly interfere in another country’s internal affairs, could he?

Ahem, although sending the Expeditionary Force to break through the border, launch a surprise attack on Highland City, and then “borrow a path” all the way to the Great Rift of the Spine of the Gods Mountains was, in essence, no different from a formal declaration of war. Still, it was done under the guise of accepting refugees. To the ears of other neighboring rulers, it sounded acceptable… That newly crowned Emperor of St. Valen? He has so much grain it’s molding in his warehouses; of course he loves taking in refugees fleeing famine and war.

With a great enemy at the gates, Harvey was more concerned about preventing any “sparks” from igniting an unmanageable fire between the nations of the south than he was about the civil-strife-ridden Isengard. He didn’t want them to fall into chaos before the Demonic Lizardmen even arrived.

This was already the second withdrawal order Harvey had issued to the Expeditionary Force. No matter how unwilling Wayne and the others were, they had to obey and move the entire army to the Emerald Oasis.

…

Scree—caw!

An eagle, having just locked onto its prey, completed a perfect hunting dive from hundreds of meters in the air, talons outstretched to snatch a lamb. But just as it was about to lift the lamb and soar away, a bullet shot from an unknown location pierced its neck with pinpoint accuracy, resulting in a gruesome decapitation.

The Eye of Illusion holstered his Magical Energy Gun, blew a puff of air over the still-smoking barrel in a showy gesture, and was immediately sent into a coughing fit by the acrid smoke from the intensely burning Dragon’s Flame powder.

“Cough, cough, cough! Hack… What do you think? This is a magical weapon personally developed by His Majesty the Emperor. Arming just a hundred-man squad with them would be enough to protect all the livestock of your entire tribe… Besides, once you officially move to St. Valen, the land His Majesty allocates to you will have almost no ferocious beasts to attack you.”

A group of sallow-faced men clad in rough animal hides stared, stunned. They had never seen such a miraculous method of attack. Their tribe’s shaman would also perform rituals when the beasts became active in winter, praying to the gods of the earth and mountains to protect their people and drive away the wolves, but the effectiveness depended on the offerings for each ceremony. Most of the time, the gods didn’t respond.

But these strange soldiers, introduced by the followers of the Stoneheart Hermits, had wiped out the packs of mountain wolves that had plagued the oasis for years. In less than half a day, they returned to the tribe’s encampment with a mountain of wolf heads.

And then there were their mounts, which let out terrifying roars. Not only were they forged entirely of steel… their speed rivaled that of the swiftest four-eared scale-leopards of the desert, and they were clearly not living creatures!

Long before the main force of these eccentrics arrived, Priest Hughes of the Stoneheart Hermits had visited in advance. He had tirelessly tried to persuade the leaders of several small, nearby tribes, urging them to lead their entire clans south to escape the Emerald Oasis, which was gradually drying up, and to avoid the non-human enemy that was about to invade.

“Elder Hughes is an old friend. The tribes of the oasis have always trusted him without reservation. Highland City is hundreds of kilometers away from the northern desert, yet he was willing to make the arduous journey to warn us. Naturally, we will not betray such kindness.”

As Clan Head, Zhuo’ao stroked the string of sharp wolf fangs hanging on his chest, pondering for a long time before speaking slowly.

“But… to have the entire clan migrate south, to leave Isengard for a distant, foreign land… I’m afraid most of my people would be unwilling. The Rootless People are accustomed to freedom. We cannot be the docile lambs in His Majesty the Emperor’s pen.”

Old Hughes was taken aback, saying awkwardly, “Clan Head Zhuo’ao… didn’t you promise me you would unite the oasis tribes and leave the Emerald Oasis? How could you…”

How could he suddenly go back on his word when the people actually came to escort them?

A tall, powerfully built young man standing beside Zhuo’ao interrupted Old Hughes with a hostile look. “We believe the intelligence Elder Hughes provided. The old, the weak, the women, and the children of the tribe will withdraw south with the herds to take temporary shelter in the southern border mountains where other Rootless People live. But the men will not retreat… We will stay at the oasis and fight those supposedly powerful and terrifying non-human enemies to the bitter end. Once we’ve driven them out of the northern desert completely, the tribe will return to our home and resume our lives.”

He paused, glaring at Wayne and the others before adding in a sardonic tone, “Move the whole clan to St. Valen? Be gifted fertile land for no reason? Hmph… We will not become the lowly servants of the southern nobles. We don’t believe that milk and honey will just fall from the sky!”

The feudal lords of Isengard itself had often cheated and swindled them… or simply used brute force, abducting large numbers of The Rootless People to serve as slaves, to be sold or worked as they pleased.

Chapter 554: Migration Negotiations

This was not the first time that the “Rootless People,” who had always refused to be incorporated into the Radiant Church’s system of belief, had been betrayed by their own country’s nobles and rulers. Even in the last few decades, the previous king of Ironhill had, with promises of a lusher oasis and permanent tax exemption, deceived and conscripted a large number of their people to journey to the Holy City of Goris and build the Radiant Holy Tower for His Holiness the Pope—a structure hailed as a wonder of the world.

As for what became of them… naturally, nine out of ten never returned to their home, and the King’s promises were delayed again and again. Finally, with the new King’s ascension to the throne, the old debts were swept away with the wind.

Several small tribes, already struggling to survive, lost so many of their able-bodied young men that they suffered the tragic fate of being annexed by other tribes.

It was a sand trap built of lies and promises, and it was doubtful anyone would willingly step into it a second time.

Wayne’s expression was grim as he scanned the crowd. He saw that the people gathered around their leader all wore expressions of suspicion and contempt. He figured that if it weren’t for the familiar face of Old Hughes, they would have probably been driven out on the spot.

As the atmosphere grew tense, the Astrologer suddenly stepped forward, leaned in, and whispered something in Old Hughes’s ear.

The old priest nodded continuously as he listened, and finally, with a look of delight, he stood up and announced loudly, “I’ve known Clan Head Zhuo’ao for over thirty years. Heh heh… back then, we were just green youths. During our stay at the oasis, the old Clan Head told us no shortage of stories about the betrayals and tragic past your tribe endured.”

Seeing his old friend suddenly change the subject to reminisce just as negotiations had reached a stalemate, Zhuo’ao’s tense expression softened slightly. He sat cross-legged on the fur rug once more and said in a gentler tone, “My old friend, since you know of the hardships we have faced, you shouldn’t be trying to persuade me to sell the future and freedom of my people cheap to the nobles of the south.”

Hughes’s eyes glinted as he continued, “But back then, those conscripted by Ironhill and the Church were all strong, able-bodied young men… After all, whether it was building a holy tower for the Pope or being sold off as slaves, the old, the weak, women, and children were not among their targets, correct?”

Zhuo’ao sighed with a hint of sorrow. “That’s right,” he said slowly. “Many tribes lost so many warriors that when winter came, they lost the ability to even protect their herds. Countless people froze or starved to death, and in the end, they had no choice but to accept being annexed by other tribes.”

Hughes raised his voice, his expression animated. “This is precisely what makes His Majesty Harvey different from the Church! Whether it’s his own people who have become famine-stricken refugees due to war, or refugees from foreign lands, or even branded slaves, His Majesty has always treated everyone equally without discrimination. Even if your tribes were left without a single young man or warrior, he would still welcome you with open arms. He won’t force you to build him wondrous palaces, nor will he turn around and sell you to others.”

In short, the Emperor in the Northern Realm had no need for the “Rootless People” to die for him. He was acting purely out of kindness and compassion, unwilling to stand by and watch these simple borderland people die needlessly under the blades of non-human enemies. That was why he had proactively extended an olive branch.

Zhuo’ao was stunned, looking at his childhood friend in disbelief. For a moment, he was at a loss for words.

The young man who had voiced the fiercest opposition earlier let out a cold snort and once again questioned loudly, “We don’t believe in this emperor’s baseless charity and help! Elder Hughes, I ask that you stop using the Clan Head’s trust to squander the precious friendship between you and us!”

His attitude clearly represented the stance of the younger, more militant faction within the tribe. Many others began to voice their agreement, but Zhuo’ao silenced them with a wave of his hand.

The old Clan Head, whose hair was as mottled and white as Hughes’s, spoke in a dry, hoarse voice, as if he had finally made up his mind. “I also firmly believe that nothing falls from the sky for free. Hughes, what is the price we must pay? I implore you to tell us the truth.”

The Eye of Illusion and the Astrologer exchanged a look, and the Eye of Illusion took the initiative to interject, “Clan Head Zhuo’ao, His Majesty the Emperor asks for nothing. The tribes that move to St. Valen need only live in peace and not start conflicts with the local populace. Pastures for your cattle and sheep and land for farming will all be provided. If your people are willing to work in the cities or answer the army’s call to arms and fight non-human enemies alongside people like us, you are of course most welcome. But everyone has the freedom to choose. No one will ever be forced!”

Wayne took a deep breath, suppressing the irritation in his heart, and picked up where the Eye of Illusion left off. “That’s right. If you’re still suspicious, you can have us protect the old, the weak, women, and children as they evacuate first. Once they are truly settled in St. Valen and their livelihoods are secured, you can decide on your next step.”

He paused, then couldn’t resist adding a barbed comment. “In any case, you plan to leave your warriors behind to wage a futile struggle against the tens of thousands in the Demonic Lizardmen army. If you’re determined to throw your lives away, we certainly can’t stop you. But you should at least ensure your descendants and family members are settled safely, shouldn’t you?”

With a sharp clang of steel on steel, the young man beside Zhuo’ao finally lost his patience. He shot to his feet, drew his sword in a flash, and in a single stride, pressed the blade to Wayne’s neck. “Swallow your contempt, southerner!” he snarled through gritted teeth.

Zhuo’ao slammed his hand on the ground and shouted, “Ake! Do not be rude to our guests!”

But Wayne’s expression didn’t change. With a savage grin, he clasped his hands together and seized the man’s longsword. In an instant, the sharp, silver-white blade turned searing red. A wave of heat spread rapidly from where his palms met the blade toward the hilt clutched in the young man’s hand. Ake felt as though he was no longer holding the battle sword he carried day and night, but a red-hot branding iron!

He managed to hold on for less than three breaths before he was forced to drop the weapon, clutching his burned hand as he staggered back.

“He… he is… he’s a God-chosen warrior! A God-chosen warrior with divine power!”

Cries of astonishment rose from the crowd. Many of the older tribesmen stood up, their gazes burning as they stared at Wayne, who now held the flaming longsword in a reverse grip.

“What? Have some among the Rootless People also received the bloodline blessing? Awakened extraordinary abilities?” The Eye of Illusion was rather surprised and tilted his head to ask Old Hughes in a low voice.

Before the old priest could answer, Clan Head Zhuo’ao slowly rose to his feet, his eyes red-rimmed as he said with a trembling voice, “There were, in the past… Some noble wizards, like Hughes, who wandered into the Northern Desert once granted us the blessing of divine power. Unfortunately, the Radiant Church forbids us from possessing and mastering such extraordinary abilities. Any warrior who accepted the bloodline blessing… was taken away by the Army of Judgment, and none ever returned.”

“Damn it! Those accursed holy rollers! Forcing you to believe in their false god is one thing, but to forbid and even strip you of the bloodline blessings given by Spellcasters… Don’t they know how difficult and precarious your survival in the desert is?” Dav’s curse burst forth, immediately drawing roars of approval from many of the tribe’s young men.

Seeing that both hard and soft tactics had been employed and feeling the time was right, Hughes quickly said, “Clan Head Zhuo’ao, what do you say? Let the old, weak, women, and children leave with us first.”

Zhuo’ao nodded. Just as he was about to give his consent, several young tribesmen with unfamiliar faces, their bodies covered in bloodstains, suddenly pushed through the outer edge of the crowd and fell collapsed before him in a panic.

“Clan Head Zhuo’ao of the Emerald Oasis! We are warriors of the Silver Moon Tribe…”

“Please, lead your warriors at once to our tribe’s Silver Moon Oasis to reinforce us! We’ve been attacked by a non-human race. They… they appeared out of nowhere and are senselessly slaughtering our defenseless people!”

“Please honor the Borderland Tribes’ pact of mutual aid! Return with us to Silver Moon Oasis and fight the enemy now!”

Chapter 555: Swift Rescue

Compared to the other tribal territories in the Northern Desert, Silver Moon Oasis was more like a small river valley settlement. Thanks to its proximity to the Spine of the Continent Mountains, the oasis was blessed with a constant flow of sweet, cold snowmelt from the towering snowy peaks, making it lush with water plants and abundant with fish. Unlike Emerald Oasis, which was gradually drying up due to years of drought, most of the tribespeople in Silver Moon Oasis even made their living by fishing, and their lives were relatively comfortable.

The Silver Moon Tribe had lived in this small oasis for generations. Successive Clan Heads had all upheld a generous and tolerant attitude, never rashly waging war or launching raids on neighboring tribes. Instead, they warmly welcomed scattered tribespeople from all directions to join them, gradually forming a settlement of considerable size in the Silver Moon River Valley.

The entire river valley area was not fortified with walls or ramparts. Apart from a few watchtowers on the outskirts built of wood and stone, the majority of the dwellings were tents made of stretched animal hides, dotting the oasis’s riverbanks like stars—a scene of primitive simplicity, quiet and peaceful.

To the Demonic Lizardmen, such a human settlement, located just over fifty kilometers from the Great Rift of the Spine of the Gods Mountains and situated on flat, indefensible terrain, was like a vulnerable lamb exposed directly to a pack of wolves. A vanguard squad of less than five hundred Demonic Lizardmen, following a shepherd leading his flock out to pasture, slipped into the oasis with effortless ease under the cover of night.

Then came the sudden, brutal, one-sided slaughter against the defenseless populace.

Although the Silver Moon Tribe had many brave and elite warriors, they could not be assembled in time amidst the sudden chaos. Forced to fight individually, they were quickly picked off one by one. After the old Clan Head and his three sons were killed in action, the few remaining warriors covered the retreat of the elderly, the weak, women, and children, buying time for their escape with their own lives as they fled in a panic to a nearby clay pit used for firing pottery.

Even the party sent to break out and call for help suffered more than fifty percent casualties. In the end, only three managed to escape, barely reaching the nearest neighboring settlement, Emerald Oasis, to deliver the shocking news to Zhuo’ao’s tribe.

By the time the reinforcements from Zhuo’ao’s tribe, leading the equally eager soldiers of the Northern Army, arrived, it was nearly dawn. Looking down from a high slope, the entire oasis was a scene of ruin and devastation. The outskirts were littered with herds of dead cattle and sheep. Numerous tents and animal pens had seemingly been deliberately set ablaze, and after burning through the night, only charred remains were left.

“We were too late…” The Silver Moon warrior who had reported the attack and called for aid sank to his knees on the sand in agony. He slammed his forehead against the ground and cried out hoarsely, causing the warriors from Zhuo’ao’s tribe to feel their own eyes redden with grief.

Wayne and Dav, their faces filled with pity, turned to Ms. Astrologer, who had accompanied the squad, for help. The high-rank Astrology Mage unhesitatingly pulled a crystal ball the size of a fist from her robes, closed her eyes slightly, and began to chant softly.

An invisible whirlwind quickly formed inside the crystal ball, then gradually coalesced into several clusters of starlight. They arranged themselves into the phantom of a sharp arrow, which trembled slightly like a compass needle before pointing directly at a low hill in the distance.

“Is that the clay pit where you made your last stand?”

A tear-streaked Silver Moon warrior looked up and sobbed, “Yes, Leader Sai Ke… the Clan Head’s youngest son, Silver Moon Oasis’s best hunter and warrior, led the few hundred survivors into the pit.”

They had been ambushed yesterday evening, and a whole night had passed. Even though the reinforcements had the good fortune of riding in the high-speed vehicles provided by the Expeditionary Force, it seemed they had still arrived a step too late.

The Astrologer shook her head, pointed towards the clay pit, and said slowly, “The stellar divination indicates that there are still survivors in the pit. Your people have no spellcasters who exude mana fluctuations, so the Demonic Lizardmen can’t pinpoint their location… If they use the complex, intersecting tunnels in the mine, they should still have a chance of survival!”

Wayne stomped his foot and ordered the communications soldier, “Have the rear Airship squad lower their altitude and enter the center of the oasis to draw the attention of those Demonic Lizardmen. We’ll circle around from the flank… and find a way to strike them when they least expect it!”

He turned to Clan Head Zhuo’ao and said in a low voice, “The Demonic Lizardmen’s fighting style is bizarre, and their weapons are devastatingly powerful. You don’t need to engage them directly. After my soldiers open fire, slip into the clay pit to find and rescue any survivors.”

Having witnessed the terrifying power of the Expeditionary Force’s Magical Energy Guns and personally experienced riding in their alchemical vehicles, the warriors of Emerald Oasis had a certain understanding of these soldiers’ combat capabilities. Moreover, the ones leading the battle were several God-chosen warriors with extraordinary powers… there were even noble and mysterious wizards among them. It wasn’t their place to fight.

The tragic plight of the Silver Moon Tribe had also instilled in them a considerable fear of the legendary non-human race monsters. Unless it was a truly desperate, last-resort situation, even the bravest tribal warrior didn’t want to throw their life away for nothing.

Clan Head Zhuo’ao touched the wolf-fang pendant on his chest, nodded silently, and split up with Wayne and the others. Each led their team down the high slope and slipped into the oasis without a sound.

…

“Look! Those monsters are spraying black water on the tents and pens!” Dav muttered in a low voice, lying prone in a thicket of bushes. “What are they trying to do?”

“They’re using the black water to start fires, to burn the entire Silver Moon settlement to ashes…” Wayne said, his expression grim. “Their mission must be to raze this place to the ground. Not only will they kill everyone, but they won’t even spare living things like livestock and poultry.”

The soldier on lookout duty suddenly whispered, “They’re spraying black water into the clay pit. It looks like they intend to suffocate the survivors hiding inside. These utterly depraved monsters!”

But this action also indirectly proved that there were indeed many tribespeople still hiding in the pit. It was just unclear how they had managed to survive the initial onslaught. Perhaps it was because the Demonic Lizardmen’s tall bodies and long limbs made it difficult for them to move through the low-ceilinged mine tunnels.

Several airships in the sky had already brazenly revealed their presence. As expected, many Demonic Lizardmen spotted them immediately and were drawn towards the center of the settlement. The airships, having lowered their altitude to less than a hundred meters from the ground, soon came under attack from black water javelins thrown by the Demonic Lizardmen below.

The spellcasters and soldiers in the airships’ gondolas fired back through the shooting ports, returning fire at the enemy as if it were target practice.

Fortunately, having left the Floating Island fortress, these non-human monsters had lost their greatest anti-air defense—the island’s own long-range black crystalline spikes. This meant that when their javelin attacks proved ineffective, they could only passively endure being picked off by the Magical Energy Guns from the sky. After losing over a dozen combat units in an instant, the remaining Demonic Lizardmen scattered to find cover.

The few spellcasters and soldiers on the airships alone were naturally not enough to annihilate the entire enemy force. The Red Lizardmen hiding within the enemy ranks had not yet shown themselves, and their red-light lightning also had an extremely long range, posing a significant threat to the airships’ gondolas and gasbags. The Air Squad dared not hover in one place for long. They could only steer the airships in circles around the settlement, firing intermittently to draw the enemy’s attention.

“In a moment, the regular soldiers will spread out in small groups and engage enemies within the settlement at will. Dav, you will lead the Bloodline Warriors of the Special Operations Squad and try to locate their Red Lizardman leader… As soon as you find the target, signal the Air Squad immediately.”

The two high-level casters, Eye of Illusion and the Astrologer, would then, upon receiving instructions from the ground troops, use Sniper Magical Energy Guns to take out their targets with a single shot, precisely eliminating the greatest threats—the Red Lizardmen!

Chapter 556: Bloody Standoff

Dav led the soldiers of the Special Forces squad, slowly creeping towards the settlement ruins. Through the bushes, they could clearly see the figures of the Demonic Lizardmen hiding behind cover in the rubble. The warriors from the Silver Moon Tribe who had come for aid were right… This Demonic Lizardman squad, dispatched from Floating Island Number 1 to sweep the surrounding area, numbered more than five hundred. This was likely the standard operational size for a unit stationed in one of the single-direction spiral passageways inside the floating island.

That meant there had to be two or three Red Lizardmen among them, acting as commanders leading their operations.

It wasn’t the first time the soldiers of the Special Forces squad had dealt with them; they had infiltrated their frontline nest not long ago. Naturally, they wouldn’t feel any fear now.

“At a distance of less than three hundred meters, I could hit their ugly heads even if you gouged out one of my eyes!” the not-yet-fully-healed Wolf Head growled, gritting his teeth in a fierce grin. “Chief, aren’t we opening fire yet?”

Dav slowly shook his head and said firmly, “Wait for Wayne’s team to open fire first. Don’t forget our primary objective is to find the Red Lizardmen leaders hidden among the enemy!”

As he spoke, several Demonic Lizardmen suddenly shot out from the settlement ruins, charging toward a pile of rubble with black crystal shields raised. They were attempting to change their cover, climbing a high slope away from the riverbank to attack the low-hovering Airship!

A bullet shot out from the bushes, precisely hitting a running enemy through a gap in its shield. Its large, swollen head exploded on impact, splattering dark red brain matter all over the ground.

A much denser volley of gunfire immediately followed—Wayne’s soldiers had finally opened fire!

The Demonic Lizardmen hiding in twos and threes behind the cover of the ruins were immediately picked off. The firepower from the ground was clearly far more rapid and threatening than that from the air. By the time they finally identified the direction of the attack, they had already paid the price of several dozen of their fellow kin dead.

The airship opportunely gained altitude. The Demonic Lizardmen, no longer locked on by the aerial threat, began to group up and slowly move toward the pile of rubble.

“They’re regrouping!” Dav ordered decisively. “Move in! Get as close as you can before opening fire. There has to be at least one Red Lizardman there!”

With a loud boom, the black water tank on the back of a Demonic Lizardman was hit amidst the chaos, detonating the black water stored within. The explosion erupted in a ball of scorching red flames, setting the surrounding ruins ablaze once more.

Using the cover of the flames and smoke, the Special Forces squad had already crept close to the pile of rubble.

“Now!”

Two Magical Energy Bullets, fired almost simultaneously, left their barrels in an instant, piercing through one Demonic Lizardman’s chest before shattering the shoulder blade of an enemy behind it.

An opening was instantly torn through the dozens of targets huddling behind the rubble, revealing… a leader in the middle of the group, one without a black water tank on its back!

“Nine o’clock, to the right and rear of the rubble pile!”

The Eye of Illusion took a deep breath, driving the mana within his body and channeling it into the sights of the Sniper Magical Energy Gun in his hands. The Astrologer placed a hand lightly on his shoulder, and as their mana synchronized, his eyes—already modified by illusions—locked onto the target through the sights.

The figure of the Red Lizardman appeared clearly in his vision. Aided by the alchemical sights, he could even see the breathing sacs on the sides of its head contracting and expanding.

Without any hesitation, he pulled the trigger. The bullet shot out from the extended barrel, spinning at high speed. The intense heat from the fiercely burning Dragon’s Flame powder, accompanied by an undeniable mana fluctuation, flew straight toward the enemy!

The Special Forces squad on the ground only saw a flash of white light. The enemy standing in front of the Red Lizardman took the bullet to the chest and instantly exploded into two pieces. The target behind it had its head instantly burst open, turning into a mist of red and black blood. It died on the spot without even a chance to struggle.

The soldiers couldn’t help but let out a cheer. With the greatest threat to the Bloodline Warriors eliminated, Dav waited no longer… one hand gripping his blade, the other holding a magical energy revolver, he roared and charged into the enemy formation amidst the rubble.

An angled slash cut into an enemy’s neck. As red and black fluid hissed and sprayed from the ruptured hide, he raised his other hand and pressed the gun against the crystalline armor on its face, blasting its head to pieces with a loud bang.

A strange squelching sound came from his side. Callum and Wolf Head, working together, plunged their two spikes into an enemy’s abdomen. In a single fluid motion, they twisted their bodies, slicing the Demonic Lizardman in half at the waist.

The Demonic Lizardmen’s counterattack was fiercer than expected. Even though their leader had been taken out by a fatal snipe from the sky, the dozens of enemies still huddled behind the rubble all coalesced black water weapons and engaged in fierce close-quarters combat with the charging Bloodline Warriors.

But this was different from when the Special Forces squad infiltrated the floating island… Now, they were facing fully equipped soldiers who no longer had to hide in stealth, afraid of their magical energy weapons giving away their position! At close range, the magical energy revolvers barely needed aiming. The special forces warriors would charge in fiercely, first parrying or knocking away their shields with melee weapons, then delivering a cruel point-blank shot to the face!

Another squad of Demonic Lizardmen charged out from behind the rubble, and a violent energy fluctuation began to coalesce rapidly. Dav turned his head, his pupils contracting sharply… That wasn’t the mana fluctuation of a Spellcaster; another Red Lizardman leader had finally appeared!

Within the enemy ranks, a Red Lizardman, protected by several black shields, abruptly raised its hands, and two crimson lightning bolts shot forth!

Spider dove into the corpse of an enemy he had just killed, tumbling clumsily to the ground and narrowly avoiding one of the lightning bolts. A soldier behind him was not so lucky and was struck squarely. Without the protection of an enemy’s hide for cover, he was instantly carbonized by the deep red plasma.

The sniper from the air fired again, but several overlapping black shields held above the enemy’s head rendered the “decapitation strike” ineffective. Although the crystalline shields were instantly shattered by the specially made sniper bullet, more Demonic Lizardmen immediately coalesced new shields to fill the sudden defensive gap.

Dav let out a furious roar, desperately pushing the bloodline energy in his body to its limits. His powerful heart pumped violently, and the dark red patterns of his bloodline insignia even spread up his neck to his cheeks. With a single slash, he decapitated an enemy that rushed him, cutting clean through its tough hide. Then, he spun and charged forward, advancing alongside Wolf Head, who had also activated his Frenzy bloodline.

An alchemical longblade, bursting with blazing flames, flew past them from behind, skewering two Demonic Lizardmen standing one behind the other… Wayne had also arrived from the rear firing position to provide reinforcements.

Under the full-force assault of the Special Forces squad’s high-rank Bloodline Warriors, the enemy, who had formed a tight defensive line within the rubble, was immediately thrown into disarray. Soon, they had paid the price of several dozen more of their kin dead.

The last remaining Red Lizardman leader unleashed its lightning attack again, but the Bloodline Warriors, already on alert, dodged it in advance. Only a few soldiers who couldn’t get far enough away suffered minor collateral damage, but they were by no means incapacitated.

As the encirclement tightened, the tables turned in an instant… The Demonic Lizardmen, who had just been rampantly slaughtering the Silver Moon Tribe as “hunters” moments ago, were now trapped within the pile of rubble. The frontal assault of the Bloodline Warriors, the precise aerial sniping from the Airship squad… and the concentrated fire from the Expeditionary Force soldiers in the distant bushes were gradually whittling down their few remaining effective forces.

Now, they had become just like the survivors of the Silver Moon Tribe, cornered in the clay pit. After several failed breakout attempts, all they could do was wait to be “a turtle caught in a jar.”

Chapter 557: Cleaning up the Mess

Thump—

Dav raised his hand and tossed a bloody non-human head before the survivors of the Silver Moon Tribe. He spat fiercely on the ground and gritted his teeth. “Damned monsters!”

This squad of no more than five hundred Demonic Lizardmen, even after being trapped with no way out, had still caused the Expeditionary Force considerable trouble. Their desperate counterattack had even resulted in casualties for the Special forces squad.

The Red Lizardman leader in particular had fought back fiercely, even after enduring a pincer attack from both the sky and ground forces and after the Black Lizardmen forming a living shield around it had all been killed. In the end, it even resorted to self-destruction, manipulating blood-red lightning to erupt from its body. It blasted everything within a fifty-meter radius of the rock pile into ruins. Even the sand on the ground was melted into glassy crystals by the high temperatures of the ravaging plasma.

One Bloodline Warrior from the Special forces squad was killed, and two were injured. Wayne was caught in the plasma explosion and his left leg was severely wounded. If Dav hadn’t blocked several bolts of lightning with his alchemical longblade in time, his entire leg might have been burned to a crisp.

The deputy leader, Callum, had his arm blown clean off while rescuing Wolf Head, who had entered a Frenzy. By the time the soldiers found his severed limb in the rubble after the battle, it was mangled beyond repair. Both the team’s Medic and the Airship squad’s Spellcaster stated, “Reattaching the limb is impossible. He’ll have to wait until we get back to be fitted for an alchemical prosthetic.”

Fortunately, the survivors hiding in the clay pit, led by the old Clan Head’s son, Sai Ke, had collapsed the mine tunnel to seal the entrance, saving the several hundred tribe members who had retreated inside from being slaughtered.

The Clan Head’s youngest son, a young man named Sai Ke who was barely in his twenties, picked up the enemy’s shattered head with bloodshot eyes. He held it high and let out a howl of despair and fury, like a lone wolf.

The surviving tribe members prostrated themselves on the sand, weeping bitterly. During the invasion, the Demonic Lizardmen had indiscriminately set fire to everything. Many of them couldn’t even find the bodies of their slain kin and could only mourn before the charred ruins.

According to the tribal traditions of The Rootless People, if a body was not whole upon death, the deceased could not enter the realm of the God of the Earth and Mountains to be reincarnated after burial.

The Silver Moon Tribe had once numbered over five thousand, but now not even one in ten remained. The handful of survivors, mostly the old, the weak, women, and children, numbered less than five hundred.

“Clan Head Zhuo’ao! And My lord Wayne, My lord Dav… and all you esteemed wizards, Your Excellencies!” The young new Clan Head, Sai Ke, fought back his tears, his eyes red-rimmed. “Please forgive the Silver Moon Tribe for breaking the pact we just made with you. We will not be migrating to the fertile lands of St. Valen. We have decided to stay and fight to the death against the enemies who took the lives of our people!”

In the past, battles between the tribes of The Rootless People were mostly over grazing rights for their pastures or the title of tribal champion. These were small-scale internal conflicts, and though people sometimes died, they were generally restrained. After a battle, they would even exchange prisoners. Occasionally, they would form alliances to resist forced conscription and slave raids by the kingdom’s nobles and the Church.

A massacre like today’s, carried out with the clear intent of annihilation—where all homes were burned and all livestock slaughtered—was, to them, a blood feud that would take generations to wash away.

The Eye of Illusion sighed and said gently, “Those who were lucky enough to survive are the old and the weak. Even if you throw all of your lives away, you won’t be able to get your revenge anytime soon. Come back with us to St. Valen and settle down… At least give the children a chance to grow up. One day, they will become warriors just like you. Then we can fight side-by-side and avenge today’s grievances.”

The young Clan Head of the Silver Moon Tribe was stunned. It was rare for a high and mighty wizard to lower himself to offer such gentle advice. “But… but our oasis… our home, and our herds…”

Zhuo’ao also shook his head and sighed. “Silver Moon Oasis is destroyed. The monsters have burned everything that could burn. This place is too close to their forward outpost. Staying here is just waiting to die.”

He paused, took a deep breath, and turned to Wayne, placing a hand over his chest in a salute. “Sir Wayne, please forgive the Emerald Tribe’s previous arrogance and rudeness. We are also willing to migrate with you to the bountiful lands of St. Valen. By the gods, His Majesty the Emperor’s grace is the highest honor for us, but on one condition…”

Wayne breathed a sigh of relief and quickly replied, “His Majesty has always been generous and merciful. As long as your people are willing to abide by the kingdom’s laws, all preferential terms can be negotiated.”

Zhuo’ao laughed self-deprecatingly. “No, we are not selling ourselves for profit, nor are we greedy… Please relay this to His Majesty the Emperor: The Rootless People of the Borderland Tribes implore him to allow our warriors to join the Expeditionary Force, to fight alongside you and use the blood of the non-human races as a blood sacrifice for our innocent, slain clansmen.”

Wayne was taken aback for a moment. He squinted and looked around, noticing that the young tribal warriors gathered nearby were all staring intently at the weapons slung on the soldiers’ backs. The longing and hope in their expressions were impossible to hide.

After this exceptionally bloody battle, these warriors from the desolate oases finally understood. Only by mastering such wondrous and powerful magical weapons could they hope to contend with those terrifying non-human monsters. Otherwise, they would only be throwing their lives away in vain.

“Only after becoming official citizens of St. Valen and pledging fealty to His Majesty can you be eligible to join the Northern Army…” Wayne explained apologetically. “Besides, learning to use our weapons isn’t something that can be accomplished overnight. Every soldier who fought alongside you today has undergone at least a year of grueling training, honing their marksmanship and combat skills in real life-or-death battles.”

The young warrior, Bale, who had recklessly attacked Wayne earlier, stepped forward. He placed a hand on his chest and bowed. “The warriors of the Borderland Tribes do not fear a challenge, Sir Wayne. Please forgive my earlier disrespectful actions. We are willing to pledge fealty to His Majesty. No training, no matter how arduous, will defeat us. When we meet His Majesty the Emperor, we will prove to him… who his most valiant and fearless warriors truly are!”

The crowd of tribesmen behind him roared in agreement. Everyone’s hope for the future was rekindled.

To prevent the Demonic Lizardmen from making a comeback, they hastily cleared the battlefield. Wayne and the others had the wounded, women, and children leave first in the alchemical vehicles, while the Expeditionary Force soldiers and tribal warriors retreated on foot.

Once they reached Emerald Oasis, they would consolidate all the tribesmen, abandon most of their supplies and herds, and withdraw directly to their first stop to the south—Highland City.

Chapter 558: The Promised Oasis

Dozens of huge, sailless ironclad ships slowly approached the shore, docking at Fengyuan City’s newly expanded pier.

Scores of officials in matching uniforms had been waiting on the riverbank for some time. The moment the ships docked, they surged forward, holding large metal megaphones and shouting out greetings at the top of their lungs.

There were also many soldiers at the pier, likewise in uniform, waiting in neat formation. They had clearly been dispatched by the City Hall to help the officials maintain order.

Bale and Sai Ke supported Clan Head Zhuo’ao, one on each side. The old Clan Head had spent his entire life in the Northern Desert of Isengard. Not only had he never traveled far by ship, he had never even been on a fishing sampan. The turbulent journey of over half a month, combined with severe seasickness, had tormented the old warrior, who was over fifty, until he was as weak as a newborn lamb, barely able to stand steady.

Most of The Rootless People had never left the desert. Just riding the ironclad ships, which sped along the river without sails, was enough to leave them in constant awe. Now, having finally arrived at their destination, Fengyuan City, the sight of the tall, thick city walls in the distance shocked them into a stunned silence.

“Get off the ship! Everyone off! Don’t dawdle and block the other ships from docking!” a voice with an unfamiliar southern accent shouted hoarsely. But their urging was not harsh; the expected whips and shoves never came. Many of their people, pale and unsteady on their feet, were even offered a helping hand.

“Are these… these fertile, flat lands and pastures we’ve seen along the way the gift His Majesty the Emperor promised us?” Bale asked, gripping Zhuo’ao’s arm tightly and leaning close to his ear.

The force with which he gripped Zhuo’ao’s arm revealed the young warrior’s irrepressible excitement and joy.

Zhuo’ao couldn’t help but frown, chiding him in a low voice, “Don’t go sniffing around like a greedy hyena! We will accept whatever land His Majesty grants us. Incessant questioning will only bring shame to our tribe!”

He sighed and gave the two young men a serious command. “Remember what I told you on the journey here. After we settle down, keep a strict rein on our people. Don’t start conflicts with the locals… Even if they show hostility or rejection, we must endure it as best we can. Remember, we are outsiders here…”

The three Borderland Tribes—Silver Moon, Emerald, and Rock Mountain—had migrated south with nearly ten thousand people. Along the thousand-mile journey, the Expeditionary Force not only provided them with ample food and supplies, but even had dedicated medics to treat any tribespeople who fell ill. This further convinced them that the Emperor of St. Valen would surely fulfill his promise and grant them the lush oasis they were pledged!

This was especially true for the afflicted Silver Moon Tribe, but life had also been difficult for the Emerald and Rock Mountain aTribes in their original settlements. The oases had shrunk year after year from sandstorms and droughts, and their pastures for grazing and hunting had gradually turned barren. Even if they hadn’t chosen to risk migrating to St. Valen, by next spring, the vast majority of their people would have faced starvation and thirst.

They understood the principle of having to bow your head when you’re under someone else’s roof. Looking on the bright side, at least the Emperor had fulfilled his first promise: he had brought them out of the desert safely. He had not abandoned the old, weak, sick, or disabled along the way, and upon arrival, they were not met with the whips, shackles, and chains of slave traders.

“You must be Clan Head Zhuo’ao?” a young municipal official asked, walking up to them with a polite smile. “I am the director of the City Hall’s Population Department, in charge of relocating and settling the three Borderland Tribes from the north. Please call me Edwin, Edwin Ralph.”

A fair complexion, soft hands without a single callus… Bale and Sai Ke exchanged a look of tacit understanding. Before them stood a true southern noble, the kind of decorative pillow with no fighting ability. Yet his attire was nothing like the ornate and complex clothing of the nobles in Isengard. His dark blue cotton uniform looked no different from those worn by the commoner officials maintaining order at the docks.

Zhuo’ao, however, did not look down on him. He returned the smile with a nod. “I am Zhuo’ao, leader of the three Borderland Tribes on this southern migration. Sir Ralph, after my people have disembarked, we will be settling for the night in…”

As he spoke, his gaze drifted unconsciously toward a row of low shacks at the foot of the distant city walls. His awareness of being an outsider made him subconsciously assume that, for security reasons, they would certainly not be allowed into the city. Still, having a temporary place to stay was good enough. Once they received the land bestowed by His Majesty the Emperor, they could move to their future home and build new houses.

The Rootless People had always been hardworking and resilient; they could always fill their bellies with their own two hands.

The young official glanced in the direction of his gaze and chuckled in amusement. “What are you thinking? How could we possibly let everyone stay outside the city? Although the weather in Fengyuan City is much warmer than your north after spring begins, the wind on the plains at night is unbearable. The elderly and the children could easily catch the Frost Plague.”

With that, he took a file from the portfolio tucked under his arm. He squatted on the ground without a care for his noble decorum and spread one of the maps out, pointing patiently to a location. “The Emerald Tribe is the largest group in this migration. The City Hall will settle you in Jinglin County. The land there is fertile and backed by a vast mountain forest, making it suitable for both farming and for herding and hunting!”

Bale’s heart leaped with joy, and he couldn’t help but ask, “His Majesty is granting all the land there to us? Then… then what tribute must we offer him each year? Grain, cattle, and sheep, or taxes?”

Edwin let out a chuckle, then said seriously, “Technically, all land within St. Valen belongs to His Majesty. The land allocated to you is yours to farm freely, and he collects no offerings… ahem, however, after a good harvest, if you wish to sell any surplus grain, livestock, or game, you must sell it first to the government’s procurement department. Private trade among the populace is strictly forbidden and a serious violation of the country’s laws.”

Free to farm and herd, with the Emperor collecting no land rent, taxes, or tribute from the tribes… the only restriction being the channel for selling surplus produce. What a generous and favorable gift this was! The tribespeople gathered around Zhuo’ao had heard the young official’s words clearly. They were so moved that tears welled in their eyes. They fell to the ground, loudly praising the Emperor’s generosity and benevolence.

“His Majesty sends soldiers to fight the non-human enemies in the north. How many recruits will he require from our tribes?” Zhuo’ao asked cautiously after a moment of thought.

Edwin pursed his lips and said lightly, “The kingdom does not have mandatory conscription. Fengyuan City and the surrounding counties and towns sometimes post recruitment notices, and special personnel will be sent to enlist soldiers… but the enlistment requirements are very strict, and the soldiers’ benefits are excellent. It’s not a matter of simply joining whenever you feel like it.”

He didn’t voice his more offensive thought, which would have wounded their pride—that ninety-nine percent of these people, freshly arrived from the borderlands, were likely completely illiterate and could never meet the Northern Army’s enlistment standards and requirements.

It was better to get them settled, let them honestly farm the land and raise their sheep, and contribute to His Majesty’s grand cause of sustainable development.

Chapter 559: A Brand New Home

Jinglin County was less than ten kilometers from Fengyuan City, but because the Northern Realm’s railway tracks had not yet been laid to the central regions, the relocated Emerald and Silver Moon Tribes could only travel on foot with their families in tow.

Fortunately, the main road along the way was wide and the terrain was flat. The Fengyuan City Hall had also temporarily allocated a good number of donkey- and horse-drawn wheeled vehicles. This allowed the newly arrived “Rootless People” to finally reach their destination by dusk.

But the sight that greeted them was completely different from what they had imagined—an endless expanse of fertile land, uniformly divided into hundreds, even thousands of orderly fields. Small groups of locals stood on the narrow field ridges, pointing and commenting on the slowly moving alchemical vehicles in the distance.

These were new contraptions, different from the wheeled vehicles they had ridden in. Their bodies were larger than an upright leather tent, and their six thick, jointed metal limbs dug deep into the earth. A bucket-shaped plow was attached to the rear, and as the vehicle moved, it rapidly churned up the deep soil.

What rich, black earth it was—truly, soil that flowed with milk and honey. The dry, sandy soil of the desert oases could not compare. The tribespeople who witnessed this scene couldn’t help but stare, their eyes gleaming. Some even jumped down from their carts, prostrating themselves on the ground and praying in low voices.

The vast procession of people and carts traveled for another few kilometers until they reached their final destination: a medium-sized settlement bisected by a man-made irrigation canal. Brand new two-story stone houses stood on both sides of the river, with a wooden and stone bridge spanning the banks. Beside the bridge stood several tall watermills, their blades slowly turning, driven by the current.

The Northern Realm’s alchemical technology had not yet fully spread to the nation’s central regions. Apart from administrative centers like Fengyuan City, the surrounding small towns and villages did not yet enjoy modern amenities like alchemical mills, heating, and plumbing. But this was more than enough to leave the migrating tribesmen gawking in astonishment, stopping in their tracks and staring blankly.

His Majesty the Emperor had not only generously accepted their relocation, but he had even built their tribal settlement and houses in advance. There was no need to start from scratch, which would have forced the tribespeople from the desolate borderlands to endure the entire spring living in tents out in the open.

“Gods of the mountains and the earth above!” Clan Head Zhuo’ao’s eyes filled with tears. He stumbled off the cart and dropped to his knees with a thud, kowtowing heavily toward the north. “Thank you for His Majesty the Emperor’s mercy and grace! Thank you to the agent of the gods for opening his arms to us! This is the oasis He promised, one without ice, snow, or drought! It is the new home for the Rootless People!”

Edwin subtly pursed his lips, inwardly cursing the Stoneheart Hermits for their insidious proselytizing along the journey. The very rhetoric His Majesty and the City Hall had used to “cajole” their heretical allies had been faithfully spread among the tribes of the Rootless People. It seemed the title of “agent of a heretic god” was now firmly stuck to His Majesty’s head for the foreseeable future.

Even more ridiculously, local administrative officials had hung a number of large red banners in front of the new houses, inscribed with slogans like 【WELCOME, NEW COMPATRIOTS, TO YOUR NEW HOMES】, 【CREATE A BRIGHT FUTURE WITH YOUR DILIGENT HANDS】, and 【ONCE YOU’RE HERE, YOU’RE A VALEN!】. Presented to this tribe of complete illiterates, it was a comical gesture, like winking at a blind man.

His Majesty was right… literacy education has a long and arduous road ahead.

To ensure the smooth settlement of these new immigrants, the Construction Department under the Fengyuan City Hall had been working around the clock for the past month to build seven or eight hundred sturdy, insulated houses in the new Jinglin County settlement. The official in charge of receiving and placing them held a statistical list, quickly assigning the houses to each family unit.

The first group to arrive, the people of the Emerald Tribe, quickly moved in. They intuitively lit warm fires in their new hearths, and soon, plumes of smoke rose from the chimneys across the settlement, creating a scene of prosperity and peace.

The Silver Moon Tribe, whose surviving members were few, chose for themselves a corner on the other side of the river. But unlike the jubilant members of the Emerald Tribe, who were singing and dancing, they did not celebrate. Dozens of the tribe’s young warriors didn’t even have time to step inside their newly assigned homes before surrounding Edwin, the resettlement director who was rushed off his feet.

“Sir, excuse me… where is the re-recruitment office?” the young Silver Moon Clan Head, Sai Ke, stepped forward and asked, a little at a loss. “We want to enlist and become warriors under His Majesty the Emperor!”

Edwin shook his head with a wry smile. “My boys, Jinglin County is just a township. Where would we get a permanent recruitment office? Even if His Majesty wants to expand the army, Fengyuan City would send people down to post announcements and enlist troops.”

Sai Ke was utterly confused by this, but he stubbornly stuck his neck out. “Then please take us to the recruitment office in Fengyuan City!”

The resettlement director’s deputy let out a chuckle and interjected, “You can’t go to the Fengyuan City recruitment office now, either. They close after six o’clock!”

“What about tomorrow? We can set out before dawn tomorrow. Surely we can enlist then?”

“Oh… tomorrow is a public holiday. The Military Command and the City Hall are closed all day.”

“Besides, the recruitment office doesn’t always have quotas for new soldiers. I heard that our Fengyuan City has even fewer recruitment spots than Goldshine City…”

Seeing these noble-like officials making all sorts of excuses and evasions, Sai Ke and the others grew anxious. Sai Ke took the lead, shrugging off his leather robe to reveal a body of dark, sinewy muscle. He said angrily, “Does His Majesty think that we warriors of the Borderland Tribes are not worthy of pledging our fealty and fighting for him?”

“His Majesty promised us that we could fight shoulder to shoulder with the soldiers of the Expeditionary Force and avenge our kin who died at the hands of the non-human races!”

This divisive statement immediately stunned the officials. They realized that these men weren’t clamoring to join the army because they had heard the pay was good… but for revenge.

Edwin sighed and tried to console them in a gentle voice, “But the orders we received were to settle you properly, to give you calves, lambs, and grain seeds, and to teach you how to cultivate the land using farming machinery… The dead are gone. Those who live must look forward. Why must you risk dying in battle up north?”

“Sir Edwin, you wouldn’t understand…” Bale strode through the crowd and stood beside Sai Ke, his voice grave. “Only when we have avenged our fallen kin with our own hands, washed away the hatred and shame with the heads and blood of the Demonic Lizardmen, will we be worthy of peacefully enjoying the land His Majesty has bestowed upon us. Otherwise, when we dream at midnight… the ghosts of the dead will linger before our eyes, refusing to depart.”

As he spoke, he reached into his tunic and carefully pulled out a glittering Northland gem. He shoved it into Edwin’s hand without taking no for an answer, pleading in a low voice, “Please, find a way to make an exception for us. Let us join His Majesty’s army!”

The young official’s arm trembled, and he snatched it back as if he had touched a red-hot coal, crying out in alarm, “What is the meaning of this! Bribing a government official is a felony that violates His Majesty’s laws!”

He stumbled back a few steps as if he’d seen a ghost, putting some distance between himself and these newly arrived “troublemakers.” He hesitated for a moment before saying helplessly, “Fine, fine! I will ask the recruitment office on your behalf, but let’s be clear… only those who have successfully graduated from the Literacy School are eligible to enter the official recruitment and selection process!”

“The… Lit-what?”

“Literacy! It means you first have to learn the basics of reading and writing! The Northern Army doesn’t recruit complete illiterates who can’t recognize a single word!”

Chapter 560: A Sentinel’s Diary

For the Ice Sea Base, located thousands of kilometers from Starfire City, the natural law of the changing seasons was virtually nonexistent.

On the vast, boundless ice sea, there was only the day-after-day extreme cold and the bone-chilling ice winds that were sure to blow on cue every morning and evening.

“Captain! Captain! Tell us again about that great battle in the old capital against the Church’s knightly orders!” Several fresh-faced new recruits, having just finished their daily patrol, swarmed him the moment they ducked into the ice fortress sentry post.

“Yeah, yeah! And the Fengyuan City raid! I heard Duke Ralph’s elite cavalry legion fought you face-to-face in a bloody battle through the streets and ended up getting completely wiped out!”

“Did you really kill one of those knights from the Army of Judgment who have extraordinary powers? How strong are they really? Are they on par with the Bloodline Warriors from the special operations battalion?”

“Definitely not as strong as Deputy Commander-in-Chief Vaughn. I once saw him pinch a vile orc’s neck with one hand, and the next moment it had turned into a pathetic pile of dust.”

Benny, bored out of his mind, was wiping down the new-model Magical Energy Gun in his hands, not even bothering to glance at the raw recruits who had barely started to shave. This ice fortress sentry post, forty kilometers from the Ice Sea exploration base, was a ground-level watch post specially established by the Northern Army’s Ice Sea Garrison Corps. Its purpose was to monitor the daily movements of the Demonic Lizardmen’s Number Two Floating Island at Upwelling Number 13.

The entire ice fortress had been dug directly out of the solid ice layer. Two-thirds of the structure was buried underground, with only the observation ports on its four sides exposed. If snow wasn’t cleared regularly… let alone the Demonic Lizardmen, even the reconnaissance airships that rumbled overhead daily would have trouble spotting it.

A single, independent ice fortress sentry post housed an entire combat squad of over fifty men. They maintained regular contact with the airships via alchemical communicators, which also coordinated airdrops of necessary supplies. Aside from a thirty-day rotation back to the Ice Sea Base for rest, they ate, drank, and slept inside the post for the remainder of their tour.

And there were more than ten such ice fortress sentry posts established around the Demonic Lizardmen’s Number Two Floating Island, silently forming a tight encirclement around the Demonic Lizardmen’s main combat keep, cooperating with aerial forces to keep a constant watch on the enemy’s every move.

When Benny had first arrived with his squad, he had thought their mission would involve frequent, small-scale guerrilla skirmishes with the Demonic Lizardmen. Before setting out, he had even written a farewell letter and made arrangements for his military stipend saved in the bank. Who would have known that the enemy on the Number Two Floating Island would remain holed up inside? Even when reconnaissance airships deliberately flew within a few kilometers to bait them, the enemy remained completely unmoved.

As a result, the following days devolved into monotonous garrison duty, which consisted of sending men out daily to clear the surrounding snow, repeatedly maintaining their guns and weapons, and chatting with the raw recruits under his command.

Lifting the gleaming gun barrel to his eye to take aim, Benny said flatly to the new recruits, “All you do all day is listen to stories. Have you done your daily weapon maintenance? How many times have I told you? It’s useless to just polish the outside. The barrel, the magazine well, and the firing mechanism all need to be cleaned repeatedly. Don’t get yourselves killed at a critical moment in a real firefight because your gun jams!”

The new model of Magical Energy Gun issued by Military Command was indeed much more powerful than the old one. The addition of Dragon’s Flame powder to the previously pure Magical Energy Bullets had increased both their rate of fire and their range considerably. But the drawback was just as obvious. After the Dragon’s Flame powder burned violently in the gun’s chamber, it would always leave a layer of greasy, scorched residue. If not cleaned promptly after a battle, it would accumulate over time and affect shooting accuracy. In severe cases, it could even cause the bullets to jam, resulting in a misfire when the trigger was pulled.

Turning his head, he saw one of the new recruits activate the alchemical heating furnace with a magic stone he’d been issued, then sneakily pull out a tin box of medicinal ointment and begin spreading it all over his military-issue dry rations.

“You little brat! That stuff is for you to put on your face and hands to prevent frostbite, not to use as butter for your bread!”

The new recruit’s fingers trembled, and the compressed dry ration fell to the ground with a clatter. With a pained expression, he said, “Chief, the butter is frozen harder than a rock. This medicinal ointment can be put on your lips and eyelids, so it won’t poison you if you eat it.”

A small alchemical heating furnace was enough to keep the hundred-square-meter bunker warm, but it couldn’t be used to cook hot food. Chewing on compressed wheat cakes and eating frozen, rock-hard canned meat all day long was sheer misery for these new recruits who had just been promoted from the reserves and were used to a more comfortable life.

Benny rolled his eyes again and was forced to turn a blind eye.

“Where were we yesterday?”

“When you were still a trainee soldier, serving under Battalion Commander Wayne, and you went to the River Valley Outpost for a live-fire exercise!”

Realization dawned on Benny. He skillfully reassembled the dismantled parts of his gun and muttered, “Right, I remember now.”

After successfully graduating from Battalion Commander Wayne’s recruit battalion, he was immediately assigned to a regular battalion and participated in the raid on Fengyuan City. That had been his first true battle, where he served as a deputy observer under Captain Newman, who had since been promoted to battalion commander.

Afterward, he followed the army to Goldshine City, where they faced the Church’s Army of Judgment legions in a direct confrontation outside the walls of the old capital. They crushed them in a single blow, completely shattering the Holy See’s ambitions to manipulate the political situation in St. Valen.

Benny could never forget that exceptionally bloody battle. The extraordinary knights of the Spear of Radiance, a legion of the Army of Judgment, had been utterly defenseless against His Majesty’s army. The memory of the fully armored bloodline knights being shot one after another, falling from their horses and struggling futilely amidst a dense barrage of bullets, remained as vivid as ever.

And it was in that battle, for accurately taking down six enemies, that he was promoted to Squad leader and transferred to the Ice Sea Base to command a fifty-man reconnaissance garrison squad.

War was always bloody and cruel… but Benny felt that, compared to killing fellow human enemies from within, he was more eager to face the non-human enemy. His new Magical Energy Gun hadn’t been fired in a long time. He wondered if those twisted,狰狞怪 a monstrous creatures would also bleed the same red blood as them when hit by a bullet.

“Chief! Another reconnaissance airship is passing overhead! Should we try to contact them?”

The soldier in charge of the alchemical communicator pointed upward and asked excitedly. Garrison duty at the ice fortress post was simply too dull. Their only channel for outside news, aside from periodic orders from the main base, was brief chats with the occasional passing reconnaissance airship.

“Don’t make trouble. They’re on patrol duty too. If you bother them with a sudden call and they get annoyed, they might file a complaint against us when they get back.”

Another veteran laughed, “The soldiers in the airship squads are pretty friendly. They fly back and forth on patrol like this every day… they’re probably even more bored than we are.”

After all, the Number Two Floating Island a few dozen kilometers away was deathly still, no different from an iron turtle’s shell. They couldn’t even see a shadow of the Demonic Lizardmen moving about outside.

Benny hesitated for a moment, just about to agree… when he suddenly felt that the sound coming from above was a little off.

Why was this airship flying so low today? With all that rumbling, it sounded like it was about to land on the ground!

Something was wrong!

“Grab your weapons and get outside! It looks like they’re going to land directly!”

He spun around, grabbed a spyglass, and peered out of the observation port. The view was still a vast expanse of white, but he vaguely saw several black dots in his vision, standing out starkly against the gloomy, misty sky.

“There’s trouble in the sky! The reconnaissance airship is under attack!”

Chapter 561: Winged Demonic Lizardmen

As the airship crash-landed into the snow with a deafening rumble, the entire ice fortress sentry post was thrown into an uproar.

Dozens of soldiers stationed in the underground fortress swarmed out, dragging three aerial scouts from the badly damaged gondola… Most of the airship’s six separate gasbags were damaged. It was no small feat that it had managed to retreat here relying on the remaining ones.

The scouts, shivering from the cold, stammered, “Inside the Floating Island, a large number… a large number of enemies with wings like birdmen appeared. They approached rapidly and damaged the airship with their javelins… The gondola was also severely damaged.”

Thanks to the thin steel plates used for the hull, while the black crystal spears had astonishing hardness and piercing power, they only managed to shatter the gondola’s glass portholes and didn’t cause any substantial harm to the scouts inside.

What truly incapacitated them was the extreme cold from flying at high speed and altitude after the gondola was breached… Furthermore, the overloaded magical-powered core had burned out the connected alchemical communication device, depriving them of their only means to warn the main base and call for help.

“Aren’t the aerial scout squads in groups of three? Where are the other two airships?” Benny demanded, his eyes wide with urgency, though deep down he already feared the worst for them.

“They were hit worse than us. They had to make an emergency landing halfway through the retreat… I’m afraid they’ve already been…”

The communications soldier in the ice fortress had already contacted the base and received a reply that reinforcements were immediately being dispatched.

But… Benny stared at the black dots in the distant sky, which were gradually approaching and becoming clearer… He knew that before reinforcements arrived, they were about to face an exceptionally dangerous battle.

“Send distress calls to the other ice fortress sentry posts nearby! Tell them to send reinforcements immediately!”

“Captain… the closest post is more than five kilometers away! They’ll never make it in time!”

“Enough talk! They’re coming! Everyone, on my command! Get into the underground ice fortress and prepare for battle!”

Rifle in hand, Benny quickly led his squad back into the underground fortress. They formed a firing line at the narrow observation slits on all sides. Without the support of heavy firepower like machine gun squads or artillery, their only hope against a clearly superior enemy force was to rely on their solid fortifications… and the precise, practiced marksmanship of the veterans, who made up less than half their number.

“Captain! The enemy is less than one thousand meters away, about two hundred of them…” the observer reported, raising his spyglass. Though his voice trembled, he dutifully finished his report.

“Everyone, prepare to fire! How much ammunition do we have in reserve?”

“Less than three hundred rounds per man. Damn it! The last squad on rotation took a portion of the reserve ammunition, but they failed to report it for replenishment after returning to base!”

This kind of oversight was common in the Ice Sea Garrison Corps. Since there were few signs of vile orc activity around the Ice Sea, and the Demonic Lizardmen from the deep waters below the ice had never appeared, most soldiers dispatched here followed a one-to-two training model: one veteran mentoring two new recruits. This was meant to accelerate their growth through combat drills so they could quickly become official soldiers.

The Northern Army’s standard combat regulations clearly stipulated that for defensive operations around their own garrison, each soldier was to carry three hundred rounds. This, combined with an equal amount stored at the sentry post, was considered more than enough to complete any given combat mission.

Against vile orcs that just blindly charged in a tight-packed group, that much ammunition would have been enough to pick them all off, with plenty left over to put a final bullet in any that were still breathing.

But now, they were facing an enemy from the air… damned flying monsters with enormous wings that had come out of God-knows-where!

These fast-moving aerial targets were something raw recruits couldn’t possibly handle. Forget about accurate shots—they’d be lucky to bring one down after emptying an entire magazine.

“Listen up! No one fires without my command!” Benny said calmly, quickly changing his strategy. “We have to use the fortress’s defenses to force them to land and fight us on the ground. Otherwise, we don’t stand a chance!”

…

On the vast, white expanse of the ice plains, the downed airship near the fortress was a conspicuous target. The Winged Demonic Lizardmen, cutting through the biting wind as they swiftly approached, didn’t need to search; they instantly spotted the man-made fortification jutting out from the ground.

These non-humans, which had suddenly poured out from Number Two Floating Island, seemed well aware that humans possessed powerful weapons capable of piercing their soft armor and killing them instantly. Consciously, they adopted a widely dispersed formation, constantly shifting their positions as they maneuvered through the air and gradually closed in on their target.

“Chief! Three hundred meters!” The observer lowered his spyglass and reported the exact distance. “Are they about to throw their javelins?”

“Keep your eyes glued on the targets!” Benny ordered without hesitation. “The moment you see them raise their hands to form weapons, everyone hit the deck!”

Their only hope now was that the sturdy ice blocks of the fortress above could withstand the enemy’s powerful javelin attacks.

“Two hundred meters! Watch for the javelins!”

“Everyone, down!”

“Up! Get up! Fire!”

After briefly taking cover, Benny was the first one up, roaring the command to open fire. Without pause, he aimed at the lead target in the air and pulled the trigger, emptying half a magazine in one burst.

At a range of two hundred meters, the bullets from the Magical Energy Guns were virtually unaffected by wind or gravity, flying straight toward the enemy. Benny could even see the light reflecting off the crimson crystalline faceplates on the monsters’ heads, as well as the thin, fleshy wings that spanned two to three meters when spread.

Shit! They’re as disgusting and terrifying as giant humanoid bats!

Fortunately, the spray of over a dozen bullets had an effect. One of the Winged Demonic Lizardmen, despite its aerobatics, was unlucky enough to fly into a bullet. Its neck was instantly half-severed, the sheer impact tearing its head clean off. For a moment, the body hung in midair, then it plummeted to the ground, gushing blackish-red blood.

A crunching sound came from the ice blocks of the fortress overhead, and shards of ice rained down on the soldiers. It was, without a doubt, the result of the black crystal spears embedding themselves deep into the ice wall.

Fortunately, the fortress was solidly built and had withstood their first volley.

“Cease fire! Wait for them to land!”

Benny yelled this as he reloaded with a second magazine. When he looked up again, a massive dark silhouette with wings outstretched was suddenly diving toward them at high speed. It threw up a hand, and a blinding red light erupted from its palm, shooting toward the observation slit.

“Look out!” Benny instinctively yanked the observer, who had been about to raise his gun to return fire, out of the way.

Chapter 562: A Fight to the Death and Annihilation

With a deafening crack!

Benny was sent tumbling backward by the shockwave. In the chaos, a warm, foul-smelling liquid sprayed across his face and hair. When he opened his eyes, the observer on top of him was missing his entire left arm from the shoulder down.

Two other soldiers in the bunker, unable to dodge in time, were struck directly by the red-light lightning that shot through the observation slit. They didn’t even have time to scream before their bodies were blown into charred chunks of flesh. Sticky, stinking blood splattered everywhere. The once-narrow observation slit was blasted wide open, creating a gaping hole large enough for a person to climb through.

It was the Red Lizardmen! The Red Lizardmen that grew wings and could fly! Not only could they attack with javelins, but they could also control and unleash terrifying red-light lightning!

The young observer in his arms opened his mouth, a pinkish, bloody foam bubbling from his lips, but he couldn’t utter a word.

Benny felt the blood rush to his head… I can’t panic! He gritted his teeth, dragged the observer to a corner of the ice fortress, and moved back toward the blasted-open gap.

“Defenses are breached! All soldiers, take cover! Forget the targets in the air, fire back at the enemies on the ground!”

Two more incomparably swift bolts of lightning struck, blowing the top off half the ice fortress. Massive, heavy ice blocks came crashing down with a roar, burying several soldiers who were hiding in a corner.

Benny seized the opening after the enemy released its red light. He exchanged a quick glance with a veteran, and they both half-rose from their crouch, aimed their guns, and fired. Two bullets, one from the left and one from the right, flew straight for the enemy’s chest. Caught in the crossfire, it had no time to take flight and evade. It was hit and fell to the ground.

Having lost the cover of the ice fortress roof, the Winged Demonic Lizardmen no longer attempted to land all at once to attack. A group of them broke off, flying low and circling the ruined fortifications, continuously hurling crystalline spikes and javelins. This forced the defending soldiers to constantly shift their positions and cover to avoid being caught in a pincer attack from both the ground and the air.

Fortunately, the veterans led by Benny were not afraid. Relying on their rich combat experience and precise marksmanship, they engaged the enemy in a protracted skirmish amidst the fortress’s passageways, which were half-buried in ice, and the ruins of the destroyed fortifications.

Whenever a Demonic Lizardman showed any intention of charging in for close-quarters combat, the soldiers would immediately organize a fierce barrage of suppressive fire, forcing them to beat their wings and take to the air again, or glide back using their wings… For a moment, the entire battle fell into a strange seesaw battle, with neither side seemingly able to gain an advantage over the other.

With a crisp click, Benny ejected another empty magazine. He habitually reached for his waist… Damn it! Only one magazine left!

He cast a searching glance at the veterans beside him, but before he could speak… he saw the same grim look on their faces.

Everyone was running out of ammunition!

He hooked the belt of a fallen soldier with his foot, slowly dragging the body into the trench. He reached for the man’s waist… Sure enough, it was empty.

A short distance behind him, a veteran huddled behind an ice pillar fired a shot to force back an enemy overhead, then called out to Benny in a low voice, “Chief, stop looking. We’ve already checked all these poor bastards’ bodies for spare ammo.”

Unwilling to give up, Benny gritted his teeth and turned his head. “Go around the collapsed ruins. We’re retreating to the west passageway to hold our ground there… That’s where the alchemical communicator is.”

Only the first level of the ice fortress sentry post, where the soldiers conducted their daily activities and observed the enemy, was above ground. On the left and right sides, two narrow, sloping passageways had been excavated downward. One connected to a deeper cavern, fully buried beneath the ice, used for storing supplies, while the other led to the cavern where the alchemical communicator was kept and where they rested at night.

An additional trench had been dug to connect the two caverns horizontally. After the first level of the fortress was blown apart by the Demonic Lizardmen, most of the surviving soldiers had gathered in this trench to continue the seesaw battle. They had to defend the only two remaining downward entrances to prevent the Demonic Lizardmen from invading the fortress’s interior directly.

As the number of casualties mounted, even the communications officer, who had been steadfastly calling for reinforcements, had to pick up a weapon and join the defense. It was only then that Benny suddenly realized… they had been locked in battle with this group of airborne enemies for nearly an hour.

Why hadn’t the reinforcements from the surrounding reconnaissance posts arrived yet? Ground troops could force-march five kilometers in less than an hour; they should have been here by now, right?

A terrible thought suddenly flashed through his mind… Could it be… could it be that we aren’t the only reconnaissance sentry post under attack?

These highly mobile, flying Winged Demonic Lizardmen… had they launched a simultaneous surprise attack on multiple ice fortress sentry posts in the vicinity?

The main base probably couldn’t respond to all the distress calls at once. Even if they dispatched their most mobile Airship squad, it would likely be…

As he was lost in thought, his attention wavered for a moment. An enemy in the air spotted his lapse in concentration and suddenly dived, conjuring a thick black crystal shield before it. It actually intended to force its way through a gap in the trench’s defenses.

We can’t let these monsters get into close combat!

Without waiting for an order, several soldiers raised their long guns, bayonets already fixed. With a single cry, they thrust forward violently… Just as the sharp bayonets sank into the enemy’s abdomen, the black shield it held in front of it instantly changed form, coalescing into a shower of incredibly sharp black spikes that shot out toward the surrounding soldiers.

At such close range, the volley of black spikes was impossible to dodge. With pained grunts, three soldiers were pierced through and pinned to the wall of the trench. Blood gushed from their broken bodies, quickly filling the trench with a thick, coppery stench.

Benny quickly snapped back to his senses and raised his gun again, landing a headshot on another Demonic Lizardman that was trying to imitate its comrade and dive closer. However, the black crystal spear that left its hand still grazed his shoulder. The tremendous impact knocked the weapon from his grasp and sent him tumbling into the trench.

Just as he thought the next enemy would move in for the finishing blow, a searing white beam of light streaked from the distant horizon. It shot straight through the body of an airborne enemy, slicing it in two at the waist. Its momentum undiminished… it immediately struck a second target.

This was not the kind of power that could be produced by an ordinary sniper-type Magical Energy Gun!

This was… this was the magical Barrett! The kind only Spellcasters and Bloodline Warriors could wield!

Benny felt a surge of vitality course through him, his body suddenly filled with a strange new strength. He took the hemostatic gel tossed to him by a medic, pressed it against the wound on his shoulder, and shakily staggered to his feet to look in the direction of the main base.

In the distant sky, a fleet of over one hundred Airships… was advancing majestically toward their position.

Chapter 563: Aerial Combat Mages

More beams of incandescent white light shot from the distant airship cluster, each one striking a Winged Demonic Lizardman hovering over the ice fortress sentry post with pinpoint accuracy. While not every shot was a perfect headshot, the immense kinetic energy of the Magical Barretts meant that even a glancing blow could cause a target to explode like a ripe watermelon.

For a moment, it was as if a hellish rain of flesh and gore fell from the sky. Scarlet drops scattered down, blooming like flowers of death on the pure white snow.

A high-level caster with graying hair and a semi-metallic body shot forward like a cannonball. His heavy mechanical body slammed into the ground with a deafening crash, sending several enemies still stubbornly resisting in the snow flying. It was none other than His Majesty the Emperor’s chief magic advisor, the high-level Illusionist, Lord Duncan.

Duncan retracted his long metal wings, which glinted with a sharp, silver light. He raised the magic revolver in his hand and, with a single shot, killed a Demonic Lizardman struggling to get up nearby. Then, he unleashed an instant-casting Arcane Storm, engulfing an enemy that had taken flight in a furious magical tornado and tearing it to shreds.

Thanks to magical energy weapons not requiring mana to be channeled beforehand, nor the time-consuming chanting of incantations and matching of spell components, Illusionists could now maintain their transformed state while still freely using instant-casting spells. They could employ a combat strategy that perfectly blended ranged and close-quarters attacks. This new mode of combat, so different from before, made Duncan feel increasingly at ease, as if his powers were an extension of his own body.

Meanwhile, the attacks of the Eye of Illusion, who had inherited all of Duncan’s teachings, were even more direct. He had even abandoned the traditional method of engaging in hand-to-hand combat in his phantom form. With the aid of mana synchronization, the Astrologer continuously poured mana into him. This allowed him to fire the Barrett at a high frequency with almost no pause, delivering one fatal blow after another to the enemy without interruption.

The other Spellcasters from the Airship squad followed suit. However, limited by their bodies’ mana capacity, they had to switch out after every shot and then immediately use a corresponding magic stone to replenish their mana.

By the time Benny led his wounded soldiers out from the bunker trenches, he found that the enemies outside had been completely annihilated. The battlefield was a bloody mess, and it was difficult to find even a complete corpse among the dead Demonic Lizardmen.

“Ch… Chief Advisor, Your Excellency!” Benny recognized the distinguished elderly Mage before him and hurriedly bowed in respect. “The reconnaissance airship was ambushed by the Floating Island. Those winged monsters chased us all the way here, and we had no choice but to request reinforcements from the base.”

He just never expected that the base would not only dispatch such a formidable aerial force, but that every single combatant who came to reinforce them would be an elegant, robe-clad Spellcaster!

Besides Lord Duncan, who had stood behind His Majesty the Emperor during his coronation, there were also the two high-rankers who were active in the army—Special Operations Advisor Mr. Eye of Illusion and Ms. Astrologer. The robes of the others were embroidered with the insignias of the Academy of Sciences and the Spellcaster Academy, proving they were at least mid-rank Spellcasters.

Oh! That gentleman with the pale, bluish complexion and skin dotted with what looked like corpse spots—Benny had met him before. It was Mr. Black, the Necromancer who often appeared at the River Valley Outpost, fond of collecting the corpses of vile orcs!

Why would such a large group of Spellcasters suddenly appear at the Ice Sea exploration base?

If they hadn’t arrived in time, his small garrison squad, short on both men and ammunition, would likely have perished at the hands of the Winged Demonic Lizardmen today.

“This was originally supposed to be a joint combat exercise for the Spellcaster Academy and the Academy of Sciences. We chose the Ice Sea Base as the location. We never expected to receive your call for help as soon as we arrived.”

Duncan frowned at the non-human corpses scattered across the ground and said in a low voice, “It’s a good thing we came when we did. The Demonic Lizardmen really did have hidden combat tactics. These individual flying units have never appeared in any of the previous small-scale conflicts.”

The remaining floating airships landed one after another. A group of Necromancers, seeing what was to them “treasures everywhere,” immediately began collecting them with unrestrained joy. White and Black pulled aside a few soldiers for a quick questioning, then walked over to consult with Duncan. “Lord Duncan, these Demonic Lizardmen who can fly and also wield both black water and red light… could they be the… ‘evolutionary type’ His Majesty spoke of?”

The old Mage pondered for a moment before saying carefully, “That will depend on the results of the subsequent autopsies of their corpses. Whether it’s the sudden appearance of anti-air measures on the Floating Island or these brand-new winged ones, we’ve been caught off guard. I’m worried the enemy has more tricks up their sleeve waiting for us.”

With that, he turned to Benny—who was cowering on the spot, utterly intimidated by the presence of all the Spellcasters—and instructed patiently, “We will escort you back to the base now. You must immediately write a detailed report of everything that happened in today’s battle and submit it to His Majesty. Don’t leave out a single detail!”

Benny nodded repeatedly. Having just escaped death, he now faced an even more severe test of his literacy. His face contorted even more than when he was injured.

Then he suddenly remembered something and said urgently, “Your Excellencies! Please dispatch the Airship squads to the other ice fortress sentry posts immediately! I suspect they’ve also been attacked by the winged enemies!”

When the battle first started, they had used their alchemical communicators to send distress signals to all the surrounding fortresses but never received a response. Benny had every reason to believe that this targeted attack wasn’t just aimed at their post alone.

Duncan nodded and immediately ordered the Eye of Illusion and the Astrologer to regroup the battle mages. They took control of nearly half the airships, ascended once more, and sped toward the other sentry posts.

“If all the soldiers garrisoned at the sentry posts are evacuated… how will we monitor the movements of Number Two Floating Island?”

Benny glanced vexedly at the wound on his shoulder and then at his battered and depleted ranks of soldiers, a look of bitterness on his face. “A small reconnaissance airship can only carry five ordinary scouts. Even if they are all well-armed and have plenty of ammunition, they can’t possibly escape from a swarm of those incredibly fast Winged Demonic Lizardmen… Of the three airships on patrol today, two have already been tragically shot down.”

Hearing this, Duncan chuckled lightly and said calmly, “They intend to use their winged ones to strike quickly like a swarm, harassing and sweeping our defenses. Do you think we can’t do the same and send out our own aerial combat units?”

In this regard, Duncan had to admire Harvey’s strategic foresight and vision. Before the enemy’s winged ones had even appeared, he was already hard at work preparing for how to deploy the mid-rank mages from the Spellcaster Academy and the Academy of Sciences onto the battlefield as combat clusters, allowing Spellcasters to participate in the fight against the non-human enemies.

As transcendent beings who wielded mana, fighting alongside mortal soldiers to defend their people against the non-human race was the very responsibility and duty they had shouldered for thousands of years!

Chapter 564: A Legend Arrives

With the long, deep blast of a whistle, a Magical-Powered Train pulling seven or eight cars slowly rolled into The Central Station. Guided by the flickering magic stone lamps on the platform, it finally came to a stop at the bustling Platform One.

A slender, upright, middle-aged man with a neatly trimmed mustache slowly stepped off the train. He was dressed in a clean, sharp, double-breasted gentleman’s suit. Raising a hand, he took off his top hat and turned to the short, elderly man two steps behind him. “Your Excellency, we’ve arrived.”

The short, elderly man shook out his slightly wrinkled, classic scholar’s robe. Wrinkling his nose, he looked around and complained without any regard for his image, “Ugh… nothing but the smell of rust from metal and alchemical constructs. It’s pungent and awful, as torturous as sticking my head into the Esoteric Society’s Chief’s laboratory!”

Fran Macaulay secretly rolled his eyes. Weren’t you the one, he thought, who refused to take the long-range teleportation array directly to Starfire City? Wasn’t it you who insisted on going to all the trouble of teleporting to the Federation branch in Goldshine City first, then transferring to an armored alchemical ship to Grizzly Keep, and finally switching to this novel Magical-Powered Train for a bumpy, roundabout journey here?

And he had the nerve to say it was all under the fine-sounding pretext of wanting to thoroughly experience the brand-new magical kingdom founded by “the agent,” along with all its advanced and incredible creations of magical technology.

The group had only paused on the platform for a moment when a squad of Northern Realm officials in uniform approached from a distance. The one in the lead was a familiar face.

Dawson raised an eyebrow slightly and said teasingly, “I’ve seen you before, young man… one of the Quinn brothers’ prize students, Chris Byrd, correct?”

Surprised that his name had left such a deep impression on a Legendary Chief of the Federation, Chris was overwhelmed by a favor. He bowed deeply, his attitude sincere. “Chief, Your Excellency, welcome to the Northern Realm… I am here to welcome you on behalf of His Majesty the Emperor.”

“Oh? Is the agent planning to meet with me in his capacity as the ruler of a nation?” the Legendary Chief said flatly, a corner of his mouth turning down. “I didn’t bring any entry documents issued by Araye. I was originally just planning to see an old friend… I didn’t expect such an official reception. You’re not going to deport me for failing to comply with the regulations for a Spellcaster meeting the monarch of another country, are you?”

Spellshield coughed repeatedly in embarrassment, realizing the Chief’s eccentric personality was acting up again, making ill-timed, sardonic jokes. He quickly stepped forward to smooth things over. “Ahem, Mr. Chris, this is our first visit to the Northern Realm, and we’ve seen so many novel magical constructs along the way. I’m afraid Starfire City will one day rival Araye as a second City of Magic.”

Clutching the top hat in his hand, he gave Chris a bow of ancient wizard’s courtesy, perfect to a fault, and suggested in a gentle voice, “We have been traveling for many days. Perhaps we should first…”

Chris, who had been frozen in awkwardness, snapped back to his senses and said with a flash of understanding, “Yes, yes, of course! The Chief and you gentlemen must be tired from your journey. Why don’t you accompany me to the guest hotel in the city to rest? Then tomorrow…”

“Tomorrow? What tomorrow? The sun is directly overhead! Take me to see your Emperor right now!” Dawson finally lost his patience. His stubborn temper flared, and he tilted his head back, urging them on with an indignant huff.

Chris’s heart skipped a beat. He was suddenly and starkly reminded that the man standing before him was not some high-level Mage sent by the Federation on a routine diplomatic mission… This was one of the three Chiefs, a true Arcane Master who held the title of Legendary: Sorun Dawson.

In his years in the Northern Realm, he had grown accustomed to interacting with officials who were high-level Spellcasters on equal footing. He had almost forgotten the strict hierarchy within the Federation and the Spellcaster organizations of the south. He had subconsciously put on a by-the-book attitude.

This revered figure was rumored to be notoriously hot-tempered and famous for his unconventional behavior. If Chris truly angered him and he caused a scene, the entire, vast Central Station probably wouldn’t be enough for him to tear down.

His Majesty had personally invited him to Starfire City. It was no different from inviting a walking alchemical bombshell. The task of receiving him was like holding a hot potato.

In his panic, Chris suddenly recalled a casual remark His Majesty had made when giving him the assignment. He quickly bowed, leaned in close to the red-nosed old man, and forced a fawning smile. “Your Excellency, I was just being discourteous… His Majesty also said there was no need for unnecessary and over-elaborate formalities when receiving an old friend. He’s currently in the magic laboratory and can’t get away. He told me that once I met you, I should ask whether you’d prefer to go directly to his laboratory to see some new gadgets, or to the private villa prepared for you at the Spellcaster Academy to rest for a while?”

Dawson squinted, pausing for a moment, then nodded in satisfaction. “That’s more like it. It’s also my fault for not telling him my arrival time in advance. Since he’s in the middle of an experiment, take me to the laboratory…”

As a traditional research Spellcaster who hadn’t undergone physical modification, his old bones were indeed aching from the bumpy journey, but he wasn’t so weak that he needed to rest immediately.

Chris nodded repeatedly, casting a look at Spellshield that said, I just dodged a bullet. He quickly led them to an open-top alchemical wheeled vehicle that had been waiting for them, and they set off into the city in a grand procession.

…

“Tsk… Those young men patrolling back and forth with silver metal batons, those are the mortal soldiers equipped with magical weapons, right?”

“The Magical Energy Gun on their backs, how is it different from the Gun of Annihilation you sold us?”

“Mortal soldiers can’t sense mana fluctuations. If a magical weapon malfunctions or breaks in battle, how is it handled?”

“Hmm? What’s that thing on your belt? Take it off and let me see.”

Along the way, Chief Dawson was like a curious child. He shed all pretense of a Legendary Caster’s dignity, constantly looking around and firing off a barrage of piercing questions that left Chris utterly miserable.

Seeing Mr. Spellshield, who was sitting next to him, turn his head away as if nothing was wrong, completely ignoring his pitiable state, Chris felt like he was about to burst into tears.

Isn’t Mr. McCaulin His Majesty’s closest friend? How can he just sit by and ignore the torment His Majesty’s loyal subordinate is suffering?

Resigning himself to his fate with a secret sigh, Chris unfastened the magic revolver from his belt and respectfully handed it to the Chief. He explained dryly, “This is a new type of magical weapon, easy to carry… If a Spellcaster runs out of mana in a fight, it can be used as a last resort to replace spellcasting and is incredibly effective in close-quarters combat!”

Dawson’s brows shot up at his words. He took the revolver, and without waiting for further explanation from Chris, he spun the weapon’s honeycomb-like cylinder, setting it to the firing position.

Then, to the gasps of everyone in the vehicle, he aimed the muzzle at his own palm and pulled the trigger.

BANG—

After the thunderous gunshot, the startled driver slammed on the brakes, causing the alchemical wheeled vehicle to screech to a halt sideways in the middle of the wide road.

Chris hesitantly opened his eyes to see a bullet, fired from the chamber, spinning rapidly in the Chief’s wide palm. Yet it could not break through some unknown, invisible barrier to actually pierce his hand.

Dawson closed his hand into a fist, easily pinching the bullet between his fingertips. He chuckled softly. “It can replace spellcasting?”

The sudden gunshot instantly drew the attention of a patrol squad on the street corner. Waving refined steel batons in one hand, their other hands hovering over the holsters at their waists, two patrol officers came running, followed by three alchemical guard beasts.

“Who? Who’s firing a gun in the street?”

Chapter 565: Talent Recruitment

“Even if you were trying to put me in my place… you shouldn’t have shot yourself in front of so many people on the street, should you?”

Harvey took off the protective faceplate covering his head and turned around, speaking with a sense of helplessness.

The Legendary Chief shrugged, walked over to a row of long metal tables against the laboratory wall, and began admiring the exquisite magical constructs on display, changing the subject. “Put you in your place? It was just a harmless joke… Mr. agent, your officers tell me that Starfire City’s magical weapons have been updated through several models. But why is the Gun of Annihilation you sold us still the original, outdated version?”

Harvey paused for a moment, then spread his hands. “You can’t blame me for that. The Esoteric Society is responsible for assembling the finished products, and the forging technology for the weapon’s rune core was handed over to them without reservation… The bullet supply has never been interrupted either. Even if you have complaints, you should take them up with Mr. Man in the Mirror.”

“You know full well their alchemy can’t compare to the level of your laboratory!” Dawson snorted heavily. “You even shared the soul forging technique with them through the Forum. Now the Quinn brothers are completely preoccupied with it. What energy do they have left to improve weapons for the Federation?”

The more the old man thought about it, the angrier he became, but he couldn’t very well take it out on Harvey. He could only change the subject with a huff. “What’s the situation with the non-human races? You’ve fought them many times already?”

Harvey nodded, activating all the magic stone recordings from their numerous battles and displaying them for Dawson one by one.

As the video records played quickly, the Chief’s expression gradually shifted from calm to grim, and finally, his brow furrowed in deep thought.

“So this is… their potential ‘Evolution and Imitation’ ability?” Dawson still found it hard to believe. “What makes you so sure it’s evolution? Perhaps they were deliberately hiding their strength and plotting in secret.”

“I wish that were the case…” Harvey shook his head helplessly. “But the facts show that from the first time my exploration team made contact with them to the recent, frequent small-scale conflicts, the enemy always reveals new combat units and countermeasures soon after suffering a setback.”

This couldn’t be explained away by them simply hiding their strength.

With that, Harvey uncovered a large, upright specimen jar by the wall, revealing the crudely stitched-together corpse of a Winged Demonic Lizardman inside. “Take a look… This is a brand-new combat individual that appeared in our most recent battle. It can control black water and release red light, and it has also grown a pair of fleshy wings. It’s a nearly perfect combat creation.”

Dawson subconsciously rubbed his red nose. He leaned in to observe for a moment and exclaimed in surprise, “A hybrid of a Black Lizardman and a Red Lizardman? I never saw anything like this in their thought fragments. This is definitely not a creature born from their race’s place of origin!”

Those Demonic Lizardmen that gestated in giant cocoons in deep-sea volcanic craters all had slender limbs and twisted joints, like uniform, humanoid spiders. Not a single one of them was born with wings.

“They underwent fusion and modification in the Floating Island fortress!” Harvey asserted, his eyes narrowing.

As someone who grew up steeped in the ways of modern technological warfare, the importance of air superiority was unquestionable. From pre-battle reconnaissance to mobile reinforcements, the side with air superiority always held the initiative. This was the foundation of Harvey’s confidence in winning this racial war.

With full-strength formations of an Airship combat fleet, combined with the ground troops’ fire formations, he was fully confident in establishing defensive positions along the enemy’s main invasion route and facing the Demonic Lizardmen head-on.

But the premise for all of this was that air superiority had to remain firmly in their hands… The monopoly could not be broken by these Winged Demonic Lizardmen that had appeared out of nowhere!

“So… you want to recruit high-rank battle mages with flight abilities from the Federation?” At this thought, Dawson’s expression immediately became troubled. “I’m afraid that won’t be easy. Gallagher won’t agree…”

All told, the entire Federation of Casters in the south had no more than three hundred high-rank individuals with combat talent. Half of them were serving year-round on the Demon battlefield in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, and the rest were mostly stationed at the Federation Headquarters in Araye. Personnel couldn’t be casually transferred from either side, otherwise the security and defense gaps could easily invite a desperate assault from the Holy See’s Divine Punishment Faction, or raids from other underground spellcaster organizations that opposed the Federation.

And Blackstone City couldn’t be short-staffed for a moment. With Harvey’s early warning, Gallagher had already dispatched multiple exploration teams and discovered abnormal movements among the Demon forces. There had to be an enemy in the north that they couldn’t handle, which was why they had chosen to pull back their defensive lines and return to support their main base north of the Spine of the Continent Mountains.

Seeing that Chief Dawson had clearly misunderstood, Harvey quickly explained, “No, I don’t intend to borrow high-rank battle mages from the Federation. In fact… these individualistically powerful Spellcasters don’t really fit our overall strategic deployment.”

The situation at Blackstone City was a perfect example—high-rank spellcasters, perched at the pinnacle of their hierarchy, rarely followed operational directives as strictly as middle and low-rank Mages. Their different backgrounds and factional loyalties made it difficult for them to truly unite and act in concert without considering personal gains and losses.

Harvey had not the slightest interest in these individuals who were used to fighting on their own and acting solo.

“I want to recruit middle and low-rank Mages. I don’t care if they are battle or research-type Spellcasters. The pay and benefits will be excellent… I don’t think any of them would refuse rewards of high-quality magic stones and rare spellcasting materials, right?”

The moment these words left his mouth, Chief Dawson was completely stunned.

“Middle and low-rank Mages? You’ll refuse no one, not even research-type Spellcasters? They haven’t even mastered flight spells. How are you going to deal with those Winged ones?”

“We have Airships that can replace individual flight spells. What we’re lacking right now are just Aerial Combat Mages who can pilot the Airships and handle aerial combat at the same time…”

Harvey had actually started secretly preparing for the establishment of the Northern Realm’s “Magical Air Force” long ago. The Spellcaster Academy and the Academy of Sciences in Starfire City had already sent middle and low-rank Mages to participate in several joint exercises. It was just that both departments were newly founded mage institutions in the Northern Realm, and their numbers were still far from the scale Harvey envisioned.

In the recent operation to rescue the soldiers at the ice sea outpost alone, the more than one hundred Airships and fewer than three hundred Aerial Combat Mages were almost all they could dispatch.

Chapter 566: The Transformation of Magic

“It won’t be difficult to recruit middle and low-rank Mages with the Federation’s reputation,” Dawson said, mulling it over for a moment before nodding slowly. “Excluding the Spellcasters who already hold official posts, there are at least ten thousand middle and low-rank Mages registered with the Federation in the south alone… However, they may not be willing to work for you.”

He paused, giving Harvey a meaningful look. “They aren’t like the commoners you recruited with generous salaries, houses, and land. Worldly wealth and status don’t easily sway these people. Even the Federation can only manage them in a nominal sense.”

This was also why the conservative faction within the Federation chose to secretly cooperate with the Church to suppress Spellcasters and proactively monopolize the trade of magic stones and spellcasting materials in the south… Without these control measures, both open and secret, these Spellcasters—whose personalities ranged from paranoid to fanatical and whose individual strength surpassed that of mortals—would undoubtedly stir up endless trouble in the mortal kingdoms.

Harvey shrugged nonchalantly, saying calmly, “I’m only responsible for making a generous offer. I won’t force them to join. Among the vast number of mid-to-low-level Spellcasters in the south, some are bound to be tempted enough to sign up.”

If things didn’t work out with the Federation, he could always turn to Mr. “Earth’s Favored” and approach the High Wizard Council instead… High-rank battle mages were indeed rare and precious, but low-rank ones were everywhere.

“Why are you so insistent on having Spellcasters form an aerial combat corps?” Dawson asked, snapping out of his thoughts. “With those Airships you gave us, as long as there’s enough of that special liquid magical energy… even mortals with no spellcasting ability can take to the skies, can’t they?”

Harvey let out a soft laugh and pointed to a pile of disassembled firearm parts on the lab bench. “This is why I’ve been cooped up in the Laboratory all this time—the mass-production model of the Magical Barrett, usable only by Spellcasters!”

Dawson strode over, leaning down to examine the pile of clearly newly-forged weapon parts. “What’s the difference between this and the Magical Energy Gun?” he mumbled.

A weapon that could be widely issued to mortal soldiers was surely the most practical and easiest to mass-produce and distribute… A weapon with such strict user restrictions would lose its greatest advantage: firepower saturation.

“This is a decapitation weapon. It was developed and prototyped a long time ago and has already been successfully deployed in combat.” Harvey expertly assembled the Barrett and launched into an enthusiastic explanation for Dawson.

An extreme range of nearly three thousand meters, alchemical sights that required a Spellcaster’s powerful mental energy to use… And most importantly, one didn’t need to carry Magical Energy Bullets to fight with it. The Spellcaster’s own stored mana was a natural “ammunition depot.” By simply channeling mana into the gun’s energy conversion core, they could snipe targets without any casting delay.

At this, Dawson’s breath hitched. He asked in astonishment, “Doesn’t that mean… this is a Gun of Annihilation with an extreme range and nearly infinite ammunition?”

Harvey handed the rather heavy Barrett to the Chief, smiling. “If the user is a Legendary like yourself… then yes, it could be called infinite. An ordinary low-rank Mage, however, would still need to rest after a few shots to replenish their mana with a magic stone or through meditation.”

Without another word, Dawson followed Harvey’s instructions, raised the gun, and fired a test shot at the wall. The solid obsidian target two hundred meters away was instantly blown to smithereens. “These alchemical sights on the gun… are they using modified positioning runes? No! There are also representations of ancient inscriptions in there. What a stroke of genius!”

A realization struck the Legendary Chief to his core. With a magical weapon this brutally simple, the unique spells that casters had spent lifetimes creating and refining, all the complex and lengthy pre-cast animations and ritual preparations, would probably be rendered completely obsolete.

Duels between Spellcasters had always been about speed—the fastest cast wins… But this weapon in Harvey’s hands seemed to push that truth to its absolute limit.

“I never imagined that magic would develop to this point. For the new generation of Spellcasters, the main focus of research and training will completely shift to storing more mana and achieving perfect marksmanship…”

The magical energy weapons in Harvey’s possession had already nearly pulled Spellcasters down from their transcendent pedestal. Now, this advanced weapon known as the Barrett would make spellcasting ranks all but irrelevant. After trying it himself, Dawson was completely certain that even a low-rank Mage, able to fire just one shot, could deal nearly fatal damage to an unprepared high-rank Mage.

The glorious order of the magic towers would be utterly shattered. There would no longer be any difference between a Spellcaster and a mortal. The ranks and titles that signified a Mage’s power and wisdom would lose all substantive meaning.

Dawson’s fingers, wrapped around the long rifle, twitched involuntarily—McCaulin and Chris had been left on the first floor of the castle so as not to disturb this private meeting… Here in the Laboratory, there was only him, Harvey, and dozens of inert alchemical constructs lining the walls. The only assembled Barrett was in his grasp, and Harvey was standing just three meters away.

A chill seized the Legendary Mage. This sudden, terrifying thought was just like the chaotic whispers from the depths of the Magic Net and other dimensions that had assailed his mind during his advancement to the Legendary rank… The great non-human enemy, the united front—none of it compared to the intense sense of crisis and pressure radiating from the pale, frail young man standing before him!

A magical aberration! a voice suddenly screamed in Dawson’s mind. Perhaps he had an opportunity to correct this mistaken path of development. All he needed to do was raise the rifle, take aim, and gently squeeze the trigger…

Harvey suddenly sighed. “Your Excellency,” he said softly, “what stands before you is merely a puppet…”

Dawson snapped back to reality. With a loud clatter, he slammed the Barrett onto the metal lab bench. “Are you testing me?” he demanded, his voice laced with shame and fury.

Harvey held up his hands. “My reaction depended on your thoughts. After all, besides you, Lord Salas will also be arriving shortly.”

With two Legendary Chiefs descending on Starfire City at the same time, Harvey had no choice but to take precautions… If they truly had a rush of blood to the head, they might retreat in the face of the tens of thousands of Northern Army soldiers armed with magical weapons, but it would be a simple matter for them to crush him on their way out.

Even though they were called Legendary, they still had mortal emotions and desires, and could be swayed by stubbornness and prejudice. Each of them was backed by powerful families and factions, and the tangled web of conflicting interests and ideologies couldn’t be smoothed over by Harvey’s simple “united front” slogan or the cooperative pact they had signed.

One could never let one’s guard down.

Chapter 567: The Chief’s New Prison

On the base of an obelisk, fully twelve meters tall and seemingly carved from a single, seamless block of stone, were inscribed the words “Starfire Monument”. The body of the obelisk itself, however, was completely blank.

Dawson followed Harvey out of the alchemical wheeled vehicle and stood before it in silence… Compared to the statue of the Heart of the Arcane at the Federation headquarters in Araye, which was enchanted with a radiant magical effect, this obelisk was far more simple and rustic.

There was a heavy, silent beauty to it…

What truly left him in awe… was the towering structure that had just been completed behind the obelisk. It stood nearly a hundred meters tall, and countless multi-legged alchemical beasts were crawling over its summit, performing the final roofing work in place of human laborers.

Several airships hovered a hundred meters in the sky, methodically delivering the final ornaments to the building’s rooftop under the direction of ground personnel. In just half an hour, the final piece of the magnificent structure was put into place.

A short, stocky, and plain-faced middle-aged man in a comical round iron helmet trotted up to Harvey and Dawson… The hem and collar of his brownish-yellow uniform were covered in unsightly dust and grime, but a black iron badge on his chest remained new and gleaming. Next to the badge was an empty button meant for a ribbon.

Dawson couldn’t help but narrow his eyes, studying the mortal before him—who had no trace of mana fluctuation—with great interest. A mortal who clearly valued honor.

“Your Majesty, the Department of Construction has not failed your expectations. Construction on the Phase One building has been officially completed ahead of schedule. Phase Two will begin immediately after the spring planting!”

Haru bowed, his face full of pride as he showed off his accomplishments and results to the Emperor to whom he had pledged fealty.

Harvey nodded in satisfaction and asked casually, “Has the interior of Building One been completed as well?”

“The construction crews cleared the site and departed yesterday. All the interior furnishings, lighting, and heating systems are in place!” Haru’s report was concise. After saying his piece, he wasted no time in leading his large group of subordinates away.

Dawson chuckled and teased, “It seems your squires aren’t planning to ask you for a reward right away? A building on the scale of a Legendary Mage Tower must have taken a long time… and cost the entire city a great deal of resources and wealth, I imagine?”

The leader in charge of such a construction project, if this were in Araye, would be worthy of an ascension reward bestowed by a Mage Lord—a bloodline awakening ceremony performed by the lord himself.

Harvey looked at Dawson with some surprise and said slowly, “Ask for a reward? I pay them a generous salary and stipend. Those who make outstanding contributions will also receive special commendations at the end-of-year awards ceremony… What other reward would they need?”

He casually pointed at the towering single building before them and said nonchalantly, “This sixteen-story building is just Phase One, which only began construction last winter. There’s still a Phase Two and a Phase Three. It probably won’t be fully completed until the first anniversary of my coronation.”

What? Last winter?

Dawson was stunned, his mouth hanging open. “A hundred-meter-tall, sky-piercing Mage Tower, and you started building it from scratch last winter? With just these mortals and a group of alchemical constructs?”

Spellshield, standing behind them with an awkward expression, leaned in and whispered, “Chief… they have a new kind of alchemical product, I think it’s called… concrete…”

The Legendary Chief took two steps back and looked up at the building again, then forced out, “Earth? This tower isn’t built from stone? Is it a new magical material never before discovered in the Northern Realm?”

Unwilling to accept it, he focused his mind and closed his eyes. His vast mental energy silently swept over the entire construction site. He then opened his eyes with a frown. “Nonsense! Aside from the two energy-gathering arrays you’ve placed at the base and the summit of the building, I can’t sense any mana fluctuations at all. The building itself isn’t leaking the slightest bit of magical energy, and there are no traces of runes inscribed on the exterior or interior walls!”

Harvey felt it was impossible to explain to this stubborn old traditionalist, so he could only shrug helplessly. “Concrete isn’t a magical substance. Just think of it as a synthetic alchemical material… Not everything incomprehensible comes from magic. Mortals can also use their own two hands to create wonders that rival the mighty works of magic.”

With that, he pulled Dawson, who was muttering under his breath but not putting on the airs of a Chief, and strode quickly into the building.

“This building was originally meant to house the families of soldiers in the Northern Army who have made outstanding contributions and shown great merit in battle… If it weren’t for the three of you—yourself, Lord Salas, and Lord Gallagher—insisting on joining my New Federation, I wouldn’t have rushed them to work day and night to hand over the project by the start of spring.”

Three Legendary Casters wanting to join the Northern Realm’s new spellcaster organization in a personal capacity… Harvey didn’t feel overwhelmed by the favor… Instead, he found it rather meddlesome. Refusing would have been rude, but agreeing meant he had to consider their status—he had to provide them a place to stay that befitted their station, didn’t he?

In that case, this newly completed building could serve perfectly as the future office building for the “Northern Realm Federation”. It wouldn’t be an insult to the Legendary Chief’s status.

Dawson understood immediately. A look of satisfaction appeared on his wrinkled face, and he shrewdly pointed to the sky and the ground. “The two energy-gathering arrays, are they experimental devices for Salas and me to use in the future? Excellent, excellent… I’ve long been interested in this energy device you developed. If the one you sent to Araye wasn’t needed to sustain Salas’s life, I would have taken it apart to study it thoroughly!”

“Absolutely not!” Harvey refused decisively. “The energy-gathering arrays at the top and base of the building were specially made for Lord Salas. They cannot be moved or dismantled in the slightest…”

Shaking his head, he had a personal guard bring over a Recording Stone, which projected the massive construction blueprints onto the smooth stone floor.

“Please, take a look. The entire Federation building’s future mana supply will rely on these two energy-gathering arrays connecting the heavens and the earth. Furthermore, if Lord Salas wishes to move freely within Starfire City, he will also need to rely on the wireless magical energy transmission from these arrays to continuously draw vast amounts of energy from the Magic Net to sustain his body.”

In short, Harvey used the transformative properties of mana’s three forms to cleverly set up the energy transmission conduits directly within the Magic Net, bypassing the spatial barrier. In the real world, they appear only as energy nodes. Using a mana-float programming technique, he made them constantly shuttle between the two realms, achieving a ceaseless transfer of energy.

Thus, using this Federation building as a signal base station, the entirety of Starfire City is enveloped within a “wireless network coverage” of magical energy!

“This way, Lord Salas will no longer complain that I’ve set up a cage for him, confining him deep underground in a sunless mineral vein… Once we activate the heaven-and-earth energy-gathering arrays and bring him over from Araye, he should be quite satisfied with his new ‘cell.’”

After this long-winded explanation, Harvey couldn’t help but wear a satisfied and smug expression.

He failed to notice… that the Legendary Chief Dawson standing beside him, along with Director McCaulin of the Federation’s Department of Magical Affairs… their expressions had shifted from confusion to trembling astonishment… finally settling into a mask of pure bewilderment and helplessness.

Chapter 568: Joining Hands

“I’m old…”

Dawson stood before the floor-to-ceiling window with a complicated expression on his face, gazing down at the magnificent, brilliantly lit Northern Realm city below. The descending night and the bone-chilling wind of late winter did nothing to affect the endless streams of people on the streets. Every common person wore a hopeful smile and a look of satisfaction.

“In the past, I was well aware that my combat strength was far inferior to that fellow Gallagher’s. As for grasping the situation and manipulating the Federation with political maneuvering, I was even further behind Salas, who came from an ancient magical noble family…”

“So I could only lock myself away in my Mage Tower in the Celestial Domain, studying the path of mysteries day and night, praying that the ultimate door of magical wisdom would open for me before it did for them.”

The old Chief lowered his perpetually raised head and said dejectedly, “But after coming to Harvey’s city today, I realize that I bear the glorious title of Legendary in name only. In reality, I’m just a pitiful wretch peeking futilely through a crack in the great door. And he… this magical prodigy who appeared out of nowhere! He is the chosen one with the ability to push open the door and enter to seek the truth!”

Before accepting Harvey’s invitation and formally setting off for the Northern Realm, Dawson had gathered all the high-circle Arcane Magic he had personally developed and improved over the last twenty years. He brought them along, together with the many highly acclaimed treatises he had published over the years.

He had intended to let this strange, rising genius of the magical world see with his own eyes the treasures he had seized from the vast sea of magic in his lifetime. His research in the realms of mental energy and consciousness was already second to none in the magical world, only a single step away from creating a brand-new school of casting.

Reality dealt him a blow he never saw coming. Among the countless strange and bizarre creations Harvey had made, the ranks that Spellcasters prided themselves on had been utterly shattered. Spellcasters would no longer aim to break through their individual limits… The weakest of low-rank researchers could easily pick up a Magical Energy Gun and challenge a high-rank being.

Even the mortals, to whom he had never paid any attention, could erect sky-piercing towers comparable to magical miracles in an instant under Harvey’s leadership. What reason did transcendent beings have to see the masses as mere ants?

“When we first met yesterday, he was testing me repeatedly… and more than once, I felt the insane urge to suppress him completely!”

Hearing this, Spellshield’s heart skipped a beat. He said in a trembling voice, “Chief… you see him as a threat? Will Kael’thas… Harvey become an enemy who obstructs the Federation’s future?”

Dawson turned around, glared at his subordinate, and said speechlessly, “I’m old, but I’m not senile… Do you think I don’t know about the relationship between you and him? If I truly intended that, why would I have brought you with me?”

Before Spellshield could stammer out an explanation, the Legendary Chief waved his hand with a sigh. “No need to rush to declare your loyalty to me. You, Fell Hoden, the Quinn brothers… and those fellows from the high-rank Wizard Council, the magical leaders of the Elves and Dwarves—you all already see him as a guide you can rely on for the future in the Forum, don’t you?”

The Federation of Casters, old, rotten, and riddled with internal factional strife, and the even more traditional and conservative seven wizard kingdoms… we have unknowingly fallen behind long ago. Faced with the Church’s infiltration and the great non-human enemy at our doorstep, we are still wallowing in our past, dust-covered glory, completely unaware.

Dawson gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “Harvey instilled the theoretical system of soul spellcasting into the Quinn brothers. The Esoteric Society terminated its ultimate research into the Man-made God and is now secretly following his instructions… planning to use some bizarre method to place the souls of the two Supreme Chiefs into a single alchemical body, achieving Legendary advancement through soul fusion. Did you think the three of us knew nothing at all?”

Spellshield lowered his head, somewhat embarrassed, and relaxed completely into the sofa. “Harvey was certain you would choose to tacitly approve,” he said softly, “…and told us not to be too secretive.”

“Of course he’s unbridled!” Dawson let out a long sigh as if accepting his fate. “Of course he knows how to exploit our weaknesses! Salas was saved by him. Gallagher is eagerly waiting for him to send the weapons and war machines his Mage Corps desperately needs to Blackstone City. And I… my research in the domain of consciousness has hit a bottleneck and hasn’t progressed an inch in years. If I’m not willing to open my mind and join hands with him, can I continue to walk the path of magic in the few decades I have left?”

The more Dawson spoke, the angrier he became. He slapped his thigh and said, “Wait for Salas! Let him deal with this goddamn prodigy! I’m going to teach at his Spellcaster Academy!”

“Huh?” Spellshield was stunned.

“What else? Is that fellow really going to send the three of us old geezers to the front lines? I can’t fly an Airship!”

…

“Why has Lord Dawson suddenly started avoiding everyone?” Harvey asked with a frown as he ate.

Spellshield raised his wine glass and took a small sip. This potent liquor from the Northern Realm, mixed with some kind of magical herb, was rich and fragrant and had a significant enhancing effect on a Spellcaster’s mental energy. It made him, a man who had never touched alcohol, quite fond of it.

“Uh… the Chief said there’s nothing for him to do before Lord Salas arrives. Even if… there is something he needs his help with, you can just go to the academy and inform him. He plans to oversee the academy in his free time and test the magical abilities of the younger generation in the Northern Realm.”

Harvey rolled his eyes, thinking to himself, Could I really order a Legendary Caster to work for me? Since this great figure had willingly decided to slack off, he could only pray for the low-rank apprentices and exchange students at the academy.

However, without the interference of the stubborn old geezer Chief Dawson, he could sit down with Mr. Spellshield and properly discuss the specific arrangements for each of the Forum members who had been secretly contacted and were willing to join after the Northern Realm Federation was formally established.

“You’re aware of the current situation with Mr. Man in the Mirror and the others. The first stage of their soul fusion advancement hasn’t been completed, so they can’t free themselves to come to the Northern Realm,” Spellshield said deliberately. “However, Son of Flame and Stormwalker have already received Lord Gallagher’s approval. They will soon lead a hundred-strong Mage Corps to the Northern Realm for a visit and study tour, under the guise of being high-rank representatives from the Blackstone City Battle Department of the Federation.”

The vast majority of them, with the tacit approval of the three Chiefs, would also join the New Federation in their personal capacities.

The generous rewards Harvey offered for this were, naturally, the new and improved Gun of Annihilation, highly mobile Airships… and the subsequent promised allocation of new magical weapons.

For the current Starfire City and Harvey himself, exchanging surplus strategic resources for permission to bring in high-rank magical talent was a surefire gain no matter how you looked at it.

Under this cooperative model, which could already be described as a joint effort, the “united front” he envisioned would also take a significant step toward breaking the stalemate.

Chapter 569: Beam Weapons

“The Winged Demonic Lizardmen on Number Two Floating Island have already reminded us that in the coming war between our two races, control of the skies will become the biggest vulnerability in the Spine of the Continent Mountains defensive line.”

It might even be the only one.

Harvey led Spellshield and his group into the magical munitions factory to introduce the new “anti-air weapon” currently in development to his allies from the Federation.

Spellshield had also watched video recordings of several battles between the Northern Army and the Demonic Lizardmen a few days ago. He was exceptionally concerned about these Winged ones who had suddenly appeared. Back during the protracted war against the Demons in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, it wasn’t as if Spellcasters hadn’t fought non-human enemies who also possessed the ability to fly… but Demonic Ascendants were, after all, extremely rare, high-rank combatants. They couldn’t be compared to a race like the Demonic Lizardmen, who could deploy hundreds or even thousands of aerial combat units at a moment’s notice.

Their own control over the skies would very likely be weaker than their opponent’s.

The fact that the airship battle group composed of Spellcasters managed to annihilate the enemy in a single reinforcement mission was, fundamentally, a success born from the element of surprise… The extreme range and precise targeting of the Magical Energy Barrett caused the Winged ones—who had chosen to fly low or land directly on the ground—to lose a significant amount of their mobility, which led to their devastating defeat.

But the Barrett’s drawbacks were also obvious—as the sole source of firepower for the airships, it was decent enough for auxiliary reconnaissance and long-range sniping. However, the fact that it could only be operated by a Spellcaster meant it couldn’t be widely equipped among the vast number of mortal soldiers. Even if mid-to-low-level casters mastered its use, they were limited by their own mana reserves and would often become exhausted after firing just a few shots in a battle.

The inability to form an effective field of suppressive fire was a huge flaw in Harvey’s eyes.

This was a fact that could not be remedied or improved no matter how many more Spellcasters the Federation and the seven wizard kingdoms sent. Only by developing new ground-based anti-air weapons could they compensate for the blind spots and deficiencies caused by this lack of firepower.

“Initially, we also considered a modified version of the Magical Energy Machine Gun,” Chris said, following closely behind Harvey and beginning to explain to their allies with a hint of pride. “But no matter how we adjusted it, we couldn’t reduce its dead weight while maintaining its high-speed firing capabilities.”

Trying to haul a device that, including its base, weighed a full two hundred kilograms onto an airship, along with its equally heavy ammunition belts… would severely compromise the airship’s flexible and efficient flight mobility, as its load capacity was already stretched thin.

The sentinel war that broke out at Ice Sea Base a few days ago was a bloody lesson—two airships, their patrol and reconnaissance routes extended, were running low on magical energy. On their return trip, they were suddenly pursued by Winged ones. At their reduced speed, they were unable to escape and were ultimately forced to land and fight to the last.

Therefore, the idea of putting Magical Energy Machine Guns in the sky was ultimately declared a complete non-starter.

The aerial combat units needed a specialized weapon, one that was both easy to mount on an airship and possessed excellent suppressive fire capabilities.

“A beam weapon thus became our best option,” Harvey said with a shrug.

A beam weapon? Spellshield was completely bewildered. He couldn’t even picture what this new weapon Harvey described looked like. Even the term “beam,” which was clearly a newly coined word, felt extremely unfamiliar to him… What did it have to do with the application of mana?

Harvey hadn’t brought his close friend here just to show off or watch him be awkwardly confused. After speaking, he immediately led them into the munitions factory’s underground weapon testing workshop to show them the prototype of the “beam weapon.”

On the weapon rack lay a thick, long barrel, about a meter in length, with a caliber slightly larger than a Magical Energy Gun. Its entire surface was covered in fine inscriptions for directing mana. The rear of the barrel was connected to a flexible metal tube, which in turn was attached to the top of a strange, box-shaped container.

Spellshield stepped closer to observe it carefully and discovered that the thick barrel wasn’t completely hollow. Inside, there was an extremely fine and intricate honeycomb structure. However, judging by the size of the gaps in the honeycomb, it was impossible for a normal Magical Energy Bullet to pass through, let alone be fired from the chamber.

Harvey clapped his hands. Tommy, the Captain of the personal guard, responded and stepped forward. With the help of two soldiers, he put on the box-shaped container, which was fitted with straps and buckles, and shouldered it like a backpack… He then gripped the handle at the rear of the honeycomb barrel, lifted it, and assumed a standard standing firing stance.

“Is that a Magical Energy Gun?” Spellshield was utterly baffled. He had just tried to analyze the magical runes on the weapon’s surface, but most of them symbolized concepts of gathering and guiding. In contrast, the runes that governed the energy flow of the Gun of Annihilation, which they were most familiar with… were centered around Amplification.

Harvey explained with a grin, “The weapon canister carried on the back, the connecting metal tube, and the main honeycomb structure of the gun’s body… Mr. Spellshield, does this remind you of anything similar?”

A familiar image suddenly flashed through Spellshield’s mind. He snapped back to his senses and exclaimed with dawning realization, “The Demonic Lizardmen’s black water weapon canisters!”

“You’ve successfully deciphered their use of black water weapons?”

When Harvey had sent the Demonic Lizardmen captives to Araye, he had also included many captured black water weapon canisters. Some of them even still contained the strange, unexpended black water… But to this day, the Federation’s Research Department still hadn’t completely deciphered the composition of the black water itself, let alone understood how its container worked.

Their application of this liquid weapon and humanity’s understanding and research of magic followed completely different paths. No matter how much experience they had accumulated in the past, the traditional research-focused Spellcasters were at a complete loss.

“The secrets of black water are core to that race’s survival. How could it be deciphered so easily?” Chris said, his expression a little bitter and resentful. “We only borrowed inspiration from their weapon’s application to create a similarly pure energy weapon. In some respects, the two have a similar effect, achieved through different means.”

Spellshield was stunned for a few seconds before asking dryly, “A pure energy weapon… Are you referring to pure magical energy?”

Pure magical energy was indeed ubiquitous in the Magic Net, forming the very foundation of the entire dimensional plane. Direct application of pure magical energy had also frequently appeared in Harvey’s research… He had secretly shared his theory of the three states of mana with most of the members who were close to him on the Spellcaster Forum, through either guidance or discussion, more than a year ago.

But from the very beginning, most of the high-rank members held the same attitude—that pure magical energy, without undergoing a state transition, could not be directly controlled or utilized by a Spellcaster… Whether it was the Gun of Annihilation or the Magical Energy Gun, they essentially worked by extracting gaseous magical energy from the Magic Net, converting it into a liquid state through an energy-gathering array, and finally solidifying it into magic stone ammunition.

In other words, Harvey had simply solidified the process of using mana to cast attack spells onto an external object called a magical energy weapon. By using the runes and structural models attached to the weapon, he had created a substitute for a Spellcaster’s own magical runes, giving mortals the power to wield the extraordinary.

A pure energy weapon… Even with a genius freak like Harvey standing right beside him, Spellshield still found it hard to believe.

Chapter 570: Energy Barrage

Looking at Mr. Spellshield’s expression of utter disbelief, Harvey didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The traditional path of mana research, followed by spellcasters for thousands of years, had solidified their otherwise brilliant minds and thoughts to a certain degree. At times, they couldn’t even compare to a transmigrator like himself who had only received a dozen or so years of general education.

In short, they had mastered a profound depth of vision into the mystical and extraordinary world, but they were incapable of stepping outside its rules to broaden the scope of their thinking.

Harvey didn’t intend to explain this in detail. Seeing is believing, after all. He shot a look at Tommy, who was long prepared and champing at the bit.

Tommy understood immediately. He turned to face the massive obsidian target dozens of meters away in the workshop. A pure steel target face with a striking red mark was hung high on the great stone, perfectly suited for testing the weapon’s power without needing to consider its range.

With a command, the Captain of the personal guard pulled the trigger without hesitation. A blazing, dazzling white pillar of light erupted from the barrel, shooting straight toward the steel target nearby.

The thought “the projectile speed isn’t that fast” had just flashed through Spellshield’s mind when, in the next instant, the thick pillar of light disintegrated, turning into countless tiny points of light. Like a giant fishing net woven in mid-air in a split second, it splashed over the target, which was several meters in diameter, completely enveloping it.

The flash from the instantaneous contact between mana and metal made everyone instinctively shut their eyes. A roar no less intense than the barrage of fire from a Magical Energy Machine Gun assaulted their ears. Spellshield knew that was probably the sound of the steel target shattering and breaking apart.

When he looked up and opened his eyes, it was just as he’d expected. The pure steel target, a full finger’s breadth in thickness, was covered in a spiderweb of fine cracks under the energy weapon’s area-of-effect attack. Unable to support its own weight, it peeled away from the wall and fell.

“This… this is how an energy weapon attacks?”

Harvey nodded, his expression revealing some dissatisfaction. “The cone of diffusion still isn’t large enough, and the area of suppressive fire is not ideal. We’ll need to continue adjusting the weapon’s energy core model.”

If not for the need for secrecy, a test firing in a more open, outdoor space would have yielded better results. At the very least, they could have simultaneously demonstrated its nearly five-hundred-meter range.

“This is just the effect of a single weapon firing. If it were fully installed on an airship, its weight of less than thirty kilograms would be enough for a three-airship recon squad to form a dense, anti-air fire-suppression net.”

This kind of fire coverage was entirely dependent on the angle of attack. As long as the person operating the weapon wasn’t blind, an enemy target with flight capabilities would find it virtually impossible to evade the attack.

What surprised Harvey the most was that this pure energy cluster had no physical form, meaning there was no issue of ballistic drop during flight. It could cover wherever it was aimed, almost like splashing water.

Chris seized the opportunity to add, “We had also developed a set of beam sights to go with it… to assist spellcasters who are unskilled in gunnery, allowing them to use the sights to guide the weapon’s firing direction.”

But from the last few weapon tests, it had become clear that this was somewhat redundant. In Harvey’s eyes, using this thing was no different from shoving a shotgun into an enemy’s mouth; it didn’t require much precision, as its kill zone was more than wide enough.

Spellshield, recovering from his shock, pressed on, “Since it’s a weapon to be mounted on an airship, why is there an energy storage pack designed to be carried on the back?”

“For dual air and land use, of course!” Chris waved his hand and explained patiently, “During aerial combat, the beam weapon’s energy conduits connect directly to the airship’s fuel tank, meaning it consumes the airship’s liquid fuel.”

However, if a forced landing and ground combat became necessary, the direct connection would be switched to the portable mode, using the storage pack to carry liquid magical energy for mobile operations.

“The main body of the gun plus the energy storage pack have a combined weight of thirty kilograms. For physically enhanced Bloodline Warriors and elite mortal soldiers who have undergone specialized weight training, it might not be too great a burden…” Harvey patted Spellshield’s shoulder with a sigh of resignation. “But for spellcasters who have received no physical enhancement, especially low- and mid-rank research mages, it would likely be an unbearable weight.”

Therefore, the beam weapon would only be universally mounted on airships in the future, while ground-based anti-air forces would use a separate, portable model.

In this respect, Harvey couldn’t care less about the status difference between spellcasters and common soldiers. In his view, so long as the right weapon was applied to the right “combat branch” and achieved satisfactory results, that was all that mattered. It didn’t matter if a cat was black or white—as long as it caught rats, it was a good cat.

…

After the test firing of the new weapon concluded, Harvey and Spellshield parted ways. Chris continued to lead the group of Federation allies on a tour of the Alchemy Laboratory.

As for Harvey, he traveled with a small retinue directly to the Academy of Sciences.

Dean Arturo was already waiting for him in the main hall of the first floor, leading a crowd of Academy members to welcome his arrival.

“Mr. Arturo, has there been any clear progress or results in establishing contact with the Sea-folk of the south?” Harvey asked, a little impatient, before they had even entered the reception room.

Arturo bowed and replied slowly, “Your Majesty, the members of the Academy from the former Necromantic Cult, as well as those from the Lambert family, arrived in the southern seas half a month ago. They set out to sea on a Halro Merchant Guild freighter… They should have successfully entered Sea-folk territory by now.”

To facilitate this cooperation, the Academy had dispatched a full ten “Academicians,” leveraging the good relations they had previously established with the Sea-folk to seek out an item on Harvey’s behalf—an item only occasionally mentioned in a few magical texts and documents.

The Abyssal Sea Chart.

It was rumored that the original birthplace of the southern Sea-folk was actually in the Storm Sea waters of the Western Realm, bordering the Evil Moon Mountain Range. Among these “Coral People,” who were closely related to humans, there were Sea Priests who could control and unleash water-elemental magic. The most crucial part of a Sea Priest’s advancement ritual was to travel thousands of miles from the southern seas, through the network of underground rivers in the Abyss of the south, to return to their people’s birthplace and receive their ascension in the heart of a storm.

Driven by this ancient tradition that had persisted for millennia, like sturgeon returning upstream, every Coral Archipelago settlement possessed a sea chart unique to its tribe. Some shared routes with other tribes, while others blazed entirely new paths.

If he could collect and consolidate all of them, Harvey would essentially have control over the entire underground water system of the south. At least ninety percent of the main underground rivers and Land-Sea lakes would be brought under his surveillance—and for the Living Tunneling Machine, vertically boring through hundreds of meters of the earth’s crust would be an incredibly simple matter.

No expression could be discerned from Arturo’s alchemical body, but Harvey clearly detected from his slightly hesitant tone that the matter was not progressing smoothly.

“The few coral tribes that have partnered with the Cult and the Lambert family over the past few decades are open to negotiation. Perhaps by offering them some desperately needed supplies, or some rare elemental magic and spellcasting materials… But as for the settlements in the outer seas, I’m afraid they will be very difficult to persuade. They have almost never dealt with humans in the past.”

Taking a Day Off at the Start of the Month!

Taking a day off at the start of the month! Resting for a day!

Tomorrow is the weekend, and I plan on going home to spend time with my parents, so I’m taking a day off!

My apologies! My apologies!

Chapter 571: The Abyssal Sea Chart

If this were the past, with the initial contact and cooperation talks with an allied non-human race having fallen apart, Harvey might have relied on his formidable strength and resorted to “brute force,” operating on the principle that within the range of his firepower, his interests were paramount.

But against the Coral Sea-folk secluded in the outer seas, this carrot-and-stick approach was clearly overreaching. Not only were the Northern Realm and St. Valen a thousand miles away from the South Sea, but even their neighbor, the “Land of a Thousand Sails” of Faros, was powerless against these allies.

Erisburg’s Royal Navy was indeed invincible across the South Sea, but unfortunately, the Sea-folk never engaged them in direct conflict. Occasionally, some coastal tribes would raid smuggling convoys, but they would immediately retreat far away upon encountering official forces, never rashly antagonizing the human kingdoms with their maritime advantage.

Furthermore, many rare and hard-to-find spellcasting materials and magic potion ingredients in the magic world came from the deep sea. Although the Sea-folk were relatively insular in their political relations with humans, they secretly maintained long-term cooperation with many wizard families. They did not completely refuse merchant guilds with backing from spellcasting organizations, allowing them to supply the tribes with much-needed goods.

In short, they accepted bartering based on the principle of equivalent exchange. But any attempt to use their people as pawns or to take advantage of them, openly and secretly, was out of the question.

“To their people, the Abyssal Sea Chart is not just an ordinary migration map passed down through generations,” Arturo explained slowly after much deliberation. “It is a precious object representing their people’s faith and traditions. If we don’t offer a price that can truly move them, I’m afraid it will be difficult to obtain the complete chart.”

Harvey nodded and sighed helplessly. “Magic stones, materials, potions, and popular specialty goods on the seas… the Northern Realm has already established trade with the Sea-folk through the mediation of the Faros Royal Merchant Guild. These things indeed don’t count as bargaining chips for the sea chart, but we don’t know… what else do they want?”

After all, the Burrowing Dwarves and the Elven race were eager to learn and master magic from humans. Harvey could build a Spellcaster Academy in the Northern Realm that was on par with those in the south, attracting them to send their younger generations one after another to be taught by the orthodox Mages from the Federation. This attitude of proactive goodwill and inclusive compromise made it easy to establish good cooperative relationships.

It was precisely because of this that he was able to borrow extremely rare treasures like the “Heart of the Golden Tree” and the “Earth Crystal Core” from the two races with just a word.

Winning over “The Rootless People” of Isengard was even more simple and direct. They craved oases and fertile land. A large swath of land in central St. Valen, collected from noble lords, happened to be uncultivated. Harvey, being generous with others’ property, gifted it to them, earning the profound gratitude of these new immigrants in return.

But the Sea-folk…

“Perhaps what they urgently need right now is a solution to the conflict with the Abyssal Sea-folk that has been entangled for centuries.” Proulx suddenly slapped his forehead in a moment of realization. “That’s it! Gaining complete control of the Coral Holy City is probably the most fervent desire of the Coral Sea-folk at this moment!”

“Abyssal Sea-folk?” Harvey was taken aback and asked, “The Sea-folk are split into two completely hostile tribes? I’ve never heard of this.”

Elder Xilisi, the oldest and most knowledgeable of the three, quickly explained, “It’s perfectly normal for Your Majesty to be unaware. The humans of the south have always known very little about them. The Sea-folk are divided into the Coral Sea-folk, who live near the coast, and the Abyssal Sea-folk, who occupy the distant seas.”

But this did not mean both splinter groups were close relatives of humans. The Coral Sea-folk were, at least, “outsiders” who had migrated to the south with humans and Demons back in the day. They also had four limbs, and apart from the gills and webbed feet that had evolved on their cheeks, they were not much different from humans.

The Abyssal Sea-folk, however, were true “natives” who had lived and thrived in the south for thousands of years. Their history could be traced back to the ancient era before the Dragon War, and they shared no bloodline with humans whatsoever. Even their appearance was more akin to sea creatures; besides their torsos and hands, their lower bodies consisted of several huge, thick tentacles, like an octopus.

“So they don’t share a common bloodline? No wonder their relationship is so hostile and full of conflict…” Harvey said with dawning understanding. “The Coral People aren’t skilled in combat. In the vast, boundless sea, they probably can’t compete with those true native non-human races.”

Xilisi smiled. “Indeed, but what’s even stranger is that when the Coral People first migrated and settled in the southern seas, the Abyssal Sea-folk took the initiative to accept and shelter those in distress. They even taught and guided the Coral People in completing the migratory advancement ritual for their Sea Priests. The relationship between the two peoples… was not fraught with irreconcilable contradictions from the very beginning.”

So it was a tangled mess of gratitude and resentment, a love-hate relationship… Harvey couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“Then how did their relationship completely fall apart?”

“The Coral People are our human relatives, after all, and they are skilled builders… they are especially outstanding in arts like carving and painting. So the Abyssal Sea-folk initially chose to entrust the construction and decoration of their sacred place to them…”

As a result, it took several hundred years, but the Coral People truly built a magnificent and splendid Coral Holy City using incomparably beautiful sea gems and a vast amount of prismatic coral!

After the Holy City was established, the two peoples initially lived together in peace, and for a time, they got along quite happily. But as they both worshipped the primordial sea gods, the question of who would lead and rule the Holy City, and who would hold the most glorious divine sacrificial rites, became the biggest trigger for conflict between them.

At first, it was just minor friction among their leaders, but it gradually escalated into armed conflict between their people and believers. To avoid an all-out war, the two peoples agreed that during the God-Worshipping Ceremony held every three years, each side would dispatch three of their Sea God Warriors to a duel. The winner would gain full control over the Coral City for the next three years.

And the loser… would have to pack their bags and retreat from the Holy City in disgrace, not a single person allowed to remain!

For either side, this was an immense torment and humiliation.

“And from what I know… the Coral People haven’t won a single God-Worshipping Duel in thirty years,” Arturo said, shaking his head and looking at Xilisi and Proulx, who were trying hard to suppress their laughter.

They haven’t won even once? Are the Abyssal Sea-folk that powerful?

Harvey raised an eyebrow in doubt. “Don’t the Coral People also have many high-rank Sea Priests? If it’s a relatively restrained martial contest where killing the opponent isn’t the ultimate goal… how could they possibly lose so disastrously?”

Xilisi waved his hand and suppressed his smile. “Your Majesty may not be aware, but the Sea-folk’s duel is no ordinary contest. Their traditions have always been… peculiar.”

The event they competed in… was deep-sea diving. Whoever could successfully dive to the depths of the sea abyss and retrieve the ritual holy object sunk in the trench beforehand would be the final victor of the duel.

The Coral People were, after all, a humanoid race with long arms and legs. How could they possibly defeat the octopus-folk who were naturally born with eight legs!

Chapter 572: Salas’s Goodwill

The newly completed New Federation building.

Harvey, along with Chief Dawson and a group of Federation allies led by Spellshield, took an elevator powered by a magical-powered core, arriving directly at the top of the sixteen-story building.

In the center of the spacious area, spanning several hundred square meters, stood a towering, columnar brass instrument—this was the central unit of the Energy-Focusing Matrix, the key to controlling and maintaining the “infinite mana” coverage for the entire building.

And even before they arrived, a squad of experimental alchemical beasts, under the command of staff from the Alchemy Laboratory, had already finished setting up a temporary long-range teleportation array.

Their purpose today was to welcome the First Chief of the Federation, His Excellency Kemer Salas, who would be arriving in Starfire City in the Northern Realm via long-range teleportation from his confinement in the Araye magic stone mine.

“Your Majesty, all preparations are in place,” Chris said, bowing to Harvey. “Shall we proceed with a preliminary test teleportation, as planned?”

The distance between Araye and the Northern Realm was actually less than half that of the ice sea exploration base… but since the one being teleported was the Federation’s Chief, far more caution was required compared to teleporting ordinary soldiers or supplies.

To ensure nothing went wrong, Harvey had not only mobilized the teleportation relay stations set up in the major administrative cities of St. Valen but had also instructed Chris and his team to conduct a rehearsal before the official teleportation. They were to send a Federation-appointed official over first to test the stability of the entire planar transport channel.

As the energy-gathering array activated, the long-range teleportation array quickly charged up and started… After a violent mana fluctuation, the void in the center of the array platform suddenly distorted erratically, and then a tall, slender figure slowly materialized.

Hm?

Harvey, whose mental perception was the sharpest, was the first to notice the anomaly. Before a wide-eyed and stunned Dawson could react, he spoke in surprise, “Lord Salas? You… weren’t you supposed to arrive in the second wave of teleportation? Why…”

The Legendary Chief’s body had just crossed the planar boundary into reality when several translucent, faintly glowing tentacles extended from his form. As if sentient, they probed straight into the surrounding void. Then, as if drawing something from the formless space, the tentacles rapidly transformed from a translucent state into a smooth, brilliant, solid form.

“Mr. Harvey was indeed correct…” Salas paused for a moment with his eyes closed, then opened them and laughed heartily. “This new prison you’ve arranged for me is actually filled with rich, ubiquitous magical energy!”

He could clearly sense that this immense magical energy, unlike in the Magic Net space, did not exist as a perpetually turbulent and chaotic fluid… Instead, it was guided by some established rules, allowing him to receive and absorb it through numerous planar nodes, no longer needing to rely on the directional transfer from an energy-gathering array.

This also meant that Salas’s range of activity here would far exceed the tiny confines of the Araye underground mine. He would no longer need to expend great effort maintaining his wandering soul technique to roam about as an avatar.

Although the chains of the shackles on his physical form had only been lengthened slightly, this hard-won, limited freedom still brought sincere joy to the proud Legendary Chief.

“Regardless, I must thank you for your help once again, Mr. Harvey.” Salas slowly descended from the high platform, came to stand before Harvey, and winked, teasing, “Forgive me for not being able to offer you proper etiquette… When you’re willing to meet me in your true form, we can make up for the handshake and hug then.”

Harvey gave a helpless, wry smile, thinking to himself that both Federation chiefs seemed a bit petty, openly and secretly making passive-aggressive remarks about him using a soul puppet to interact with them.

However, he didn’t want to explain too much. He put on a smile again and said, “Your Excellency’s safe arrival in Starfire City is a great help to me… With two of you here to oversee things, the Northern Realm Federation can finally begin to operate officially.”

Dawson chimed in, “Aside from the battle mage regiment Gallagher is about to send… who are the primary candidates you plan to recruit?”

Harvey didn’t keep them in suspense. He raised a hand and pointed to the Magic Brain device on the desk, smiling. “Our Spellcaster Forum members, of course. In terms of personal sincerity and collaborative synergy, they are my first choice!”

Salas sighed softly and said slowly, with a hint of meaning, “It seems you intend to completely hollow out the entire Federation, don’t you?”

Among the members of the Spellcaster Forum… internal officials of the Federation made up a very large proportion. Besides the three chiefs, high-ranking officials like “Spellshield” Fran Macaulay, the director of the Department of Magical Affairs; “Son of Flame” Fell Hoden; and “Stormwalker” Matthews Willy were all members. Many of Gallagher’s high-rank battle mages had also been gradually introduced and joined through their efforts.

This group of high-rank battle mages alone, considered the Federation’s core strength, numbered more than ten. The number of members from other departments who were secretly recruited as subordinates and eventually joined the Forum was simply innumerable.

There were even many among them whose movements even Salas and Dawson could not fully monitor. They were only aware that a large number of low-permission members of the Federation faction had appeared in the Forum, but as for their specific names and identities… they knew nothing of their origins.

And so, with the tacit approval of the three chiefs, the Magic Net Forum had, in just a few short years of operation, eroded and infiltrated the major spellcaster organizations of the south, including the Federation, to an unrecognizable degree.

Harvey shrugged with feigned innocence and chuckled. “You two Excellencies are well aware that given the Federation’s current state of endless internal strife, trying to unite the human spellcaster world with your strength alone… is likely unrealistic.”

The only way is to build a brand-new organization upon the decadent ruins of the Federation—one that discards factional barriers, is inclusive and welcoming to outsiders, satisfies the spellcasters’ desire for free communication, and can also lead everyone to face external threats as one.

As he spoke, he glanced at Mr. Spellshield, who had been standing to the side, and saw approval and affirmation in his eyes. He paused, then continued, “Consider it a rebirth. Let those old-fashioned, backward-thinking conservatives continue their ceaseless squabbles… The rest of us should set aside our prejudices and move forward, hand in hand.”

When it came to speeches and inspiring others, Harvey considered himself somewhat skilled… At the very least, the expressions of the two Legendary Chiefs gradually shifted from uncertain to calm.

“Fine… We’ll do as you say. The three of us will no longer raise any objections to this.”

Salas turned and walked to the window. Looking down from his high vantage point at the vibrant northern stronghold below, he murmured softly, “Mr. Harvey, before you assign me any specific tasks… I’d first like to gain a deeper understanding of this brand-new city you’ve built, and those bizarre and wondrous magical constructs.”

Chapter 573: The Navy’s “Southern Expedition”

Upon receiving the transfer orders from His Majesty the Emperor and the Military Command, Gutres immediately led the Navy battalion headquarters, which was training at the Ice Sea Base, back to Starfire City.

He took advantage of the last public holiday before the expedition to rush home and have his wife help him pack his luggage. For this operation, they were to lead a team south, following the Ralph River into Faros, and finally reaching the territory of the Sea-folk in the Southern Seas.

Without the aid of a long-range teleportation array, it would be an incredibly long journey.

His only son, who happened to have the same day off, returned home excitedly, only to come face-to-face with his father, whom he hadn’t seen in three months, sitting silently at the dining table, eating.

“Father? Why are you back?” Young Gutres had just finished his shift and hadn’t even had time to change out of his standard-issue Defense Force uniform. He looked at his father, who should have been at the Ice Sea Base, and asked quizzically.

Gutres glanced at him but didn’t intend to answer, picking up his knife and fork to continue with the seared steak on his plate.

A confused Young Gutres sat down opposite him and muttered to himself, “Did His Majesty give you a new mission? Besides training at the Ice Sea Base and sweeping operations against the vile orc tribes, when else is the Navy ever useful?”

Thud!

Gutres set his water glass down on the table with a firm thud. His eyebrows shot up as he said angrily, “Doesn’t the Defense Force have confidentiality regulations to follow? Casually asking an officer from another combat branch about operational details… are you not afraid of being dragged before the military tribunal?”

“You’re being far too serious…” Young Gutres was taken aback and grumbled under his breath, “The security classification for non-combat missions isn’t that high, is it? Besides, it was already clearly published in the Military Command’s internal journal. Are people not allowed to discuss it?”

The Northern Army’s internal journal, much like the Starfire City Weekly, was a periodically printed publication. The only difference was that the journal circulated exclusively within the Northern Army. It mostly published brief reports on the outcomes of recent military operations or reviews of new weapons already in production. Essentially, it was all content that wouldn’t violate military confidentiality regulations. By publishing it in an official journal, it gave the lower-ranking soldiers a credible source of information, effectively suppressing all sorts of rumors in the ranks.

Reports about the Northern Navy were rarely seen in print, so any mention naturally attracted a great deal of attention and discussion among the soldiers, especially for someone like Young Gutres… whose own father was a high-ranking officer in the Navy.

Gutres put down his knife and fork, let out a breath, and said in a low voice, “This time, it’s a mission to the south, involving military contact with the Sea-folk. I can’t say any more…”

He paused, looking his son up and down in his Defense Force uniform. Seeing the empty space on his chest and cuffs, adorned only with the insignia representing the lowest rank of soldier, he couldn’t help but sigh.

“This year’s Military Command promotion review… don’t you dare embarrass me again.”

Young Gutres immediately understood his father’s meaning and argued softly, “His Majesty said… if every member of the Defense Force is decorated with battle merits, it means our home city has been ravaged by war. There’s nothing wrong with having no merits… Advancing through seniority step-by-step is perfectly fine.”

He reached over and refilled his father’s glass with some light beer. Young Gutres said quietly, “Besides, the Defense Force is about to be equipped with the newly developed anti-air weapons. After I return to my unit… my battalion will be conducting large-scale joint exercises.”

Soldiers by nature crave war, but that doesn’t mean they don’t know how to cherish peace.

…

Since the start of the spring planting, Harvey had been so busy he barely touched the ground. Back-to-back, day-long meetings were commonplace. On one hand, he was meticulously arranging the battle strategy against the Demonic Lizardmen; on the other, he couldn’t relax his control over the nation’s development. He truly felt his energy was being drained.

Starfire City had developed at a breakneck pace, and its influence and control now extended far beyond a single city. With convenient transportation and transparent official communications, any policy or decree from Harvey and the General Municipal Office could cause ripples throughout the entire nation of St. Valen in a very short time.

Even Rainer, an Alchemical construct who could once handle complex work plans and statistical reports all by himself, now needed the assistance of his ever-growing municipal team. He himself had requested more than once that Harvey upgrade his Soul Core as soon as possible to help him more easily manage the overwhelming administrative workload.

Compared to the administration of the nation, where others “carried the weight” for him, Harvey invested more of his attention in the combat strategy formulated against the Demonic Lizardmen. He had scarcely missed a single high-level war council meeting at the Military Command.

In just a month and a half, Belek, the largest city on Isengard’s northern border, was suddenly attacked at night by Demonic Lizardmen pouring out of the vast barren lands. The entire city, with a population of over ten thousand, was reduced to ruins overnight.

From the lord, the Duke of Belek himself, down to the last dog, none were spared…

In a message sent back just before death by a follower of the Stoneheart Cult who had infiltrated the city to gather intelligence for the Northern Army, they were shocked to discover the presence of Winged ones among the Demonic Lizardmen combat units from Floating Island Number 1… It was also because of these Winged Demonic Lizardmen that Belek’s high stone walls had offered almost no resistance.

Several bolts of red-light lightning blasted open the heavy city gates directly. Nearly ten thousand Demonic Lizardmen swarmed into the city and began a silent massacre. Wherever the black water spread, flames erupted, illuminating the sky above the city.

“Their evolution is synchronized…”

The atmosphere at today’s high-level Military Command meeting was somewhat strange. It wasn’t because the mild-mannered Emperor had suddenly flown into a rage, but because of the person he had invited to observe the meeting… the Legendary Chief of the Federation, Your Excellency Kemer Salas.

The vast majority of Northern Army officers were of common birth. The few Bloodline Warriors among them mostly didn’t consider themselves transcendent beings… To suddenly have a genuine Legendary Mage standing before them truly made everyone feel ill at ease.

This led to a situation where Harvey was the only one who dared to respond to the Chief’s words. “It is indeed synchronized, but we can’t determine how a connection is formed between two Floating Islands thousands of kilometers apart.”

Salas nodded in agreement and suggested with a smile, “This mystery can’t be solved overnight. You would be better off first considering whether to send reinforcements to Isengard… With Belek fallen, the capital Ironhill could be next at any moment.”

From the current situation, it seems that aside from the Northern Army with its magical energy weapons, neither the elite cavalry under the command of secular lords nor the Spellcaster advisors supported by nobles can withstand the Demonic Lizardmen’s assault… Whether in terms of combat strength or numbers, it would not be a difficult task for the thirty thousand-plus Demonic Lizardmen from Floating Island Number 1 to sweep across the entirety of Isengard.

“Unless the Holy See sends reinforcements.”

Upon hearing this, Salas let out a soft laugh and said slowly, “Based on my understanding of them over the years, of Goris’s thirteen Army of Judgment legions, apart from the Spear of Radiance, which you beat so badly its designation was wiped out, there are two stationed in Blackstone City, and another five scattered across various parishes in the south…”

The Holy See currently has no more than five Army of Judgment legions available for deployment, totaling only about ten thousand men.

Moreover, these remaining Army of Judgment legions are not exactly a monolithic, harmonious bloc… At the very least, aside from the two legions controlled by the Divine Punishment Faction, the other Army of Judgment Marshals are likely unwilling to travel all the way to Isengard to save a mad king and his crumbling royal family.

Chapter 574: Military Restructuring

“Come in.”

Vaughn pushed the door open and walked briskly to Harvey’s desk. He brought his heels together and thumped his fist against his chest in a military salute. “Your Majesty!”

As the Deputy Commander-in-Chief of the Northern Army, Vaughn had just led the elite First Battalion to the River Valley Outpost before the start of the spring planting. With the support of the Navy’s ironclad ships, they traveled north along the Icefield River, delivering a devastating blow to the vile orc tribes migrating south along its banks.

The scale of this sweep was much larger than the one before winter last year. Nearly every one of the two thousand soldiers of the First Battalion had a double-digit kill count. North of the Icefield River, along the ruins of the coastal settlements, they had even erected one hill after another made of vile orc skulls.

“This sweep was very well done.” Harvey had a smile on his face as he pointed to a stack of documents on his desk. “Pierce has gone to the Ice Sea Base, so you missed the high-level Military Command meeting a few days ago… Get up to speed, then tell me what you think.”

Vaughn respectfully took the documents, but replied, “Your Majesty, I already reviewed the general contents of this document on my way back. I have no objections.”

The recent high-level Military Command meeting was about the planning and implementation of the Northern Army’s second phase of military restructuring… Since Harvey’s official coronation and his assumption of actual control over the entire Duchy of St. Valen, the army has grown to an unprecedented size.

In the Northern Realm alone, Starfire City, the new capital, had nearly fifteen thousand soldiers stationed. In a city whose population had just surpassed one hundred thousand, this meant that for every ten people, there was bound to be one enlisted soldier.

In addition, many Defense Force soldiers were stationed throughout the Duchy’s other administrative districts and important cities. Half of these troops were recruited locally, and the other half were rotated in from the Northern Realm. In total, their numbers also exceeded ten thousand.

For a central duchy like St. Valen, with a total population of less than five hundred thousand, supporting nearly thirty thousand professional soldiers who did not engage in production was already a shocking affair… And yet, His Majesty the Emperor’s recruitment orders have not stopped.

“The Military Command and I are preparing to reorganize the army’s structure, completely changing the old system of battalions, squads, and groups to regiments, battalions, companies, and squads.” Harvey motioned for Vaughn to sit and listen.

In Vaughn’s view, with the rapid increase in the size of the army, expanding the command structure was inevitable… Upgrading the old, severely overstaffed battalion headquarters into regimental headquarters was something he and the other high-ranking officers had discussed internally for some time.

A regiment, as the army’s basic tactical unit, would have a strength of about three thousand soldiers. It would command six battalions, each with a strength of five hundred men. Each battalion would be composed of five one-hundred-man companies, and each company would use ten-man squads as its smallest operational unit.

This way, St. Valen and the Northern Realm would have ten full-strength army regiments. The Navy, Air Force, and special operations units would each form independent regiments, unconditionally cooperating with the army’s military operations as directed by the Military Command for strategic and tactical missions.

“The structural reform of the army has been under discussion for a long time, so it’s normal that you have no objections to it.” Harvey took a sip of tea. “But what about the implementation of the military rank system? What do the low-to-mid-ranking officers and soldiers think?”

Vaughn tensed up and quickly straightened his posture to answer, “The soldiers only need to obey the orders issued by Your Majesty; they would never dare to openly defy or oppose them… It’s just that, the new rank system is indeed a bit complicated, and many people…”

The Northern Army has always had a tradition of “veterans first.” A common soldier naturally has to stand at attention and salute an officer, and a new recruit gives a veteran the same treatment… But the implementation of the rank system has clearly disrupted this simple tradition. For a common soldier to advance in rank, they must acquire a certain amount of merit in battle or meet the standard for time in service.

But a veteran of the “City Defense,” who has served in the Defense Force system for over three years, might have accumulated less battle merit than a new recruit who has only been enlisted for a year but was fortunate enough to participate in the Isengard expedition… If the two were to meet outside the Officers’ Club, the situation would be rather awkward.

Not to mention those young people from the Military Command’s General Staff who have just graduated from the academy and parade around the city with their officer ranks. It’s hard for them not to attract private complaints and dissatisfaction from the veterans.

Harvey nodded. “I’ve heard about this situation as well. It’s fine. Don’t deliberately suppress the soldiers from expressing their opinions. The Propaganda Department will also continue its educational campaigns until they fully understand the true meaning of the rank system.”

In principle, rank and position are directly linked. On this point, Harvey was strictly copying from the memories of his past life… Aside from minor differences between various military branches, it would be nearly impossible for a mismatch between rank and position to occur within the same branch.

The Defense Force rarely sees combat, so internal promotions are mostly based on seniority. This way, they naturally can’t compete with the “new recruits” who, despite having been enlisted for a short time, frequently participate in combat operations. After all, risk and reward always go hand in hand.

A military position may be adjusted for various reasons during wartime, but a military rank is an honor that accompanies a professional soldier for life. It represents their experience and highlights their battle merits. After a soldier is discharged, they can still receive a generous “pension” from the Military Command and the government based on their rank. The higher the rank, the more they receive.

Vaughn nodded like a pecking chicken, having already decided in his heart that as soon as he returned, he would immediately arrange for officers of all levels to study the new military structure and rank regulations issued by the Military Command again. He absolutely could not let the soldiers’ private grumblings and confusion reach His Majesty’s ears.

“Good… Also, you should already be aware of the border operation plan, right?”

His Majesty’s train of thought was so jumpy. Vaughn was stunned for a moment, then quickly replied, “General Pierce has told me about it. The Northern Army will dispatch two regiments, a total of six thousand men, to Wolf Fang Ridge on the border between St. Valen and Isengard to completely seal off the border region… and be ready at any moment to deal with the Demonic Lizardmen coming down from the north!”

He had subconsciously addressed his direct superior by his new military rank, which brought a satisfied smile to Harvey’s face. “Then… Colonel Vaughn, will you have any problem taking full responsibility for the border operation plan?”

Vaughn quickly stood up, gave Harvey a standard military salute, and replied loudly, “I will not fail your trust, Your Majesty!”

Then he suddenly remembered… For a campaign of this massive scale, why wasn’t Sir Pierce personally leading it?

Harvey, of course, saw the confusion in his expression and explained with a smile, “The border operation plan will be a long-term one. Your steady personality makes you the most suitable person to go and take command… Pierce has a more important mission at the Ice Sea Base.”

Vaughn’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Your… Your Majesty, are we also going to deploy troops to Number Two Floating Island at the Ice Sea Base at the same time? A two-front war… that’s a troop movement of nearly ten thousand men.”

Chapter 575: A Genius at Modification

Harvey awoke from a brief sleep, his entire body aching with an indescribable soreness… It took him a moment to realize he had spent the latter half of the night right there on the recliner in his office. The day-long meeting had left him so utterly exhausted that he hadn’t even had the strength to get up and return to his bedroom.

As a research mage who had not undergone physical modification, the common ailment of a frail constitution was gradually becoming a hindrance in dealing with his heavy political duties. More than once, Harvey had toyed with the idea of soul transformation, but thankfully, his love for fine food and good wine always suppressed the impulse at the critical moment.

He believed the citizens of Starfire City would also prefer their Emperor to appear before the public as a human of flesh and blood, not a cold, unfeeling metal statue perched on a high throne.

As his mind wandered, a guard entered to inform him that Kaelan Nelson, the Commander-General of the Defense Force, had an urgent matter to report.

This was a rather rare occurrence… Generally, aside from their routine duties of defending the city, the Defense Force seldom encountered any sudden incidents that required his judgment. These city defense soldiers, screened out from the Northern Army for slightly failing to meet the standards, were not actually bad. Compared to the elite Northern troops responsible for external warfare, they simply lacked a bit of practical combat experience.

Of course, he had always believed that a Defense Force with no combat experience was a good thing, as it meant the city did not have to endure the baptism of war. The soldiers’ lack of experience could be made up for with frequent drills, and besides, they had several rounds of overseas deployment missions each year. Ultimately, they wouldn’t be complete embroidered pillows.

“Let him in,” Harvey nodded, giving the order while reading through the remaining unprocessed gazettes from yesterday.

“Your Majesty! Kaelan Nelson pays his respects!” a gruff voice boomed in Harvey’s ear, making him instinctively look up to get a good look at the middle-aged officer before him, who was clearly a half-orc.

Harvey seemed to have a faint impression of him. He was a half-orc taken in during the era of the pioneer territories. A militia soldier who had saved him had tragically died at the hands of pursuing vile orcs, leading the half-orc to stubbornly take the deceased soldier’s surname as his own after joining the territory.

A man of some genuine character, indeed.

“Speak. What is there to report… But let me be clear first, if you’re here to ask for extra funds for the Defense Force, that won’t fly with me. Bypassing the Military Command and the Treasury Department to pull strings with the Emperor will land you before a military tribunal.”

Harvey winked at the half-orc colonel, a teasing expression on his face.

This approachable attitude did much to relax Nelson, who was so nervous on his first meeting with His Majesty the Emperor that his back was sweating. He quickly bowed and said, “It’s not a matter of funding! Your Majesty, I received a report from the public, saying… saying that they found traces of suspected non-human enemy activity in the Great Bear Lake area, northwest of the capital…”

“What?” Harvey slammed his hand on the desk and shot to his feet, his brow furrowed in astonishment. “Traces of Demonic Lizardmen northwest of the capital? And discovered by common citizens? Colonel Nelson, are you bringing such a preposterous civilian rumor straight to me without any verification?”

Thanks to the formidable military strength of the Northern Realm, whose record of victories across the nations of the south had remained unbroken for years, the local populace held a kind of blind confidence. Even after Harvey had personally delivered a speech declaring the highest state of alert, they showed no fear of the impending non-human invasion. There had even been cases of citizens, out on hunting or leisure trips on public holidays, capturing some large lizard-like animals and mistakenly bringing them to City Hall to claim credit for finding the hypothetical enemy, leaving the officials not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

Nelson paid no mind to Harvey’s reprimand. He directly handed a package in his hands to a guard, who presented it to Harvey. It was a bundle of shrub roots that seemed to have been burned by fire but were not completely carbonized. Suspiciously, their surfaces were mostly coated with a sticky, dark black substance. A familiar coppery stench reached Harvey’s nose, immediately putting him on high alert.

“Black water…” he pressed urgently, “Where is this Great Bear Lake? I’ve never heard of it. How far is it from the capital? Who was the first to find it?”

“Great Bear Lake is four hundred kilometers from the capital, a huge, natural lake in the barren lands. The first to notice something amiss… was a civilian hunting party. They just returned at dawn today and passed the intelligence to the Defense Force the moment they reached the city gates.”

Four hundred kilometers? Starfire City’s survey department had mapped less than two hundred and fifty kilometers of the area around the capital.

Harvey frowned again, incredulous. “How could a civilian hunting party possibly reach a place so far away? Without weapons, venturing more than fifty kilometers from the capital risks attacks from wandering vile orc tribes. Don’t tell me there are Bloodline Warriors and Spellcasters in a civilian hunting party.”

Even if there were, these few transcendent beings couldn’t have easily escaped from the Demonic Lizardmen, who moved in groups of dozens or even hundreds… much less have the chance to return to Starfire City and deliver a report.

Faced with the Emperor’s questioning, Nelson couldn’t help but wipe the cold sweat from his forehead as he explained tremulously, “The hunting party has no magical energy weapons, but in recent years, many locals have been able to acquire decommissioned alchemical vehicles from the military… A round trip of hundreds of kilometers isn’t much of a problem.”

But just having second-hand, decommissioned vehicles from the military was not enough to guarantee safety in the perilous barren lands. Harvey had long since heard that the local populace had a penchant for salvaging decommissioned Alchemical constructs from the military and government agencies. These defective items, with their Soul Cores destroyed, were still made of refined steel and magical metals, making them perfectly valuable for being melted down and repurposed or modified.

His attitude towards this had always been one of tacit approval.

Without the support of liquid magical energy, these alchemical vehicles, powered only by magic stones, weren’t much faster in the wilderness than an ox-drawn cart.

Something was wrong! Harvey narrowed his eyes, staring directly at Nelson as he demanded, “This hunting party you speak of, do they also possess alchemical beasts that have been leaked from the military and government departments?”

Nelson’s heart leaped into his throat. He hung his head and confessed honestly, “Yes… Yes, some of the Soul Cores weren’t completely destroyed. They modified engineering alchemical beasts into semi-armed alchemical beasts with offensive and defensive capabilities…”

Oh? So there were citizens in the capital, not employed by the Alchemy Laboratory, who had the skills and technology to modify alchemical beasts?

Before Harvey could ask another question, the half-orc colonel dropped to the ground with a thud, kneeling as if his courage had shattered, and confessed everything. “Your Majesty, please forgive my crime! It was I… I used my connections to get Lari the decommissioned alchemical beasts from the Construction Department, for him to modify for his hunting trips. Lari is the one leading the hunting party… But what they saw and heard at Great Bear Lake is absolutely true! I could not, in good conscience, conceal such critical military intelligence to protect Lari by choosing not to report it to you!”

He was at least clear on his public and private responsibilities. However, illegally selling off City Hall’s discarded Alchemical constructs was truly out of line. Even if it wasn’t to line his own pockets, it was a serious violation of the kingdom’s laws.

Harvey let out a cold snort and said flatly, “This genius at alchemical beast modification you speak of… Lari. Who is he?”

“He… He is my only son.”

Chapter 576: Air Defense Alert

By the time Nelson brought his son Lari before Harvey, Rainer and Chris had already heard the news and hurried over.

The issue of civilians privately using connections to buy, sell, and modify engineering alchemical beasts was a tricky one—not major, but not insignificant either… On one hand, both His Majesty and the government had a tacit policy of turning a blind eye, but on the other, it revealed that there were indeed corrupt individuals among the officials seeking personal gain.

“Your Majesty, the issue with the scrapping and disposal of alchemical beast Soul Cores was indeed a blunder from the Laboratory. I will strictly discipline my experimenters, and I guarantee this will never happen again.” As the head of the Alchemy Laboratory, Chris knew the buck stopped with him. He rushed to take full responsibility before Rainer could speak.

Rainer, however, remained calm. After asking for the details of the incident, he turned to Harvey and said, “Your Majesty, isn’t the more important issue the intelligence about suspected Demonic Lizardmen activity at Great Bear Lake? The matter of alchemical beasts ending up in civilian hands can be handed over to the Justice Department for further investigation. Right now…”

“Right now, the priority is obviously to dispatch an airship reconnaissance squad to return to the Great Bear Lake area and conduct a sweeping search to determine if the Demonic Lizardmen are truly operating there.” Harvey tapped his fingers on the table and let out a soft chuckle. “Did you really think I can’t tell what’s urgent and what’s not? The Military Command was already taking action before you arrived.”

He paused, turning his gaze to the boy Nelson had brought. He looked to be about fifteen or sixteen… as if he had just graduated from the public academy, not even old enough to enlist or hold a job.

“Mr. Lari, tell me everything you and your hunting party found in the Great Bear Lake area… Spare no detail, and that includes the part about you using modified alchemical beasts.”

The boy, Lari, bore a striking resemblance to his father, Nelson. It was also his first time meeting the Emperor at such a close distance. His body trembled slightly with fear, but his voice was relatively steady. “Your Majesty… we set out for the Great Bear Lake area a month ago… Because of the continuous sweeps of the capital’s surrounding areas by government survey teams and the military, local beasts like the Bloodclaw Bear have been forced to migrate farther away. Great Bear Lake is their favorite spot for winter hibernation.”

The claws of a Bloodclaw Bear are a magical material unique to the Northern Realm. Since they cannot be domesticated and are time-consuming to track and hunt, official hunting parties don’t often make them a primary target. Both the Alchemy Laboratory and the infirmary frequently post public requests to purchase them, offering a price high enough to attract civilians to form their own hunting parties and strike it rich.

After all, hibernating Bloodclaw Bears are not particularly aggressive or dangerous. The only difficulty lies in finding their hidden dens.

But it was still an expedition deep into the barren lands. Without the protection of Magical Energy Guns, a hunting party armed with only crossbows and melee weapons would face constant peril from vile orcs and ferocious beasts… This was why a “civilian mechanic” like Lari, who knew how to modify and control alchemical beasts, became the top choice for them to hire privately at a high price.

And what Lari brought to Great Bear Lake were three armed alchemical beasts he had modified himself, fitted with Soul Cores that the Alchemy Laboratory had scrapped but not completely destroyed… The boy had been a top student in the mechanics program at the public academy. With his father being a high-ranking officer in the Military Command, he had picked up a great deal of knowledge about alchemical beast technology through osmosis. Through trial and error, he actually managed to reactivate the nearly depleted Soul Cores, cobbling together three worn-out, second-hand soul constructs for himself.

The engineering alchemical beasts were originally modified from a Wolf Spider Beast prototype. Their four pairs of spider-like limbs naturally endowed them with off-road climbing capabilities, and their sharp legs and powerful mandibles were a useful defense against dangers in the wild. Thanks to their protection, the hunting party spent more than half a month advancing to the Great Bear Lake area without any major incidents, just as they were preparing to start their search for the Bloodclaw Bears.

“But when we finally reached Great Bear Lake, we… we discovered that the area around the shore seemed to have just experienced a massive fire. There were burn marks everywhere, and much of the vegetation that hadn’t been completely incinerated was covered in a thick, sticky black water… It looked extremely similar to the Demonic Lizardmen’s black water weapon described by City Hall and in the newspapers. We didn’t dare go near the water, so we collected a small sample of the black water and immediately turned back…”

An experimenter from the Alchemy Laboratory hurried in with a test report. Harvey took it, glanced through it quickly, and nodded. “That’s right. After comparative analysis, the Laboratory has confirmed that what you found at Great Bear Lake is indeed the Demonic Lizardmen’s black water weapon. It’s the same accelerant they use to spray and burn the barren lands.”

“Your Majesty, now that the Demonic Lizardmen’s presence has been confirmed, is sending only a reconnaissance airship enough? I suggest we immediately convene the Military Command and simultaneously notify General Pierce, who is currently at the Ice Sea Base,” Rainer said decisively, offering his advice to Harvey.

Harvey nodded in approval and ordered two guards to immediately go and summon the high-ranking officers of the Military Command.

Great Bear Lake was not like the Ice Sea Base, which was thousands of kilometers away. It was less than four hundred kilometers from Starfire City. A reconnaissance airship at full speed could reach it in just ten hours.

This was tantamount to the Demonic Lizardmen showing up on Starfire City’s doorstep. If they were to send their winged species for a surprise attack, they could, in principle, launch an assault within the same day.

“Notify the Military Command to activate a level-one air defense alert. All Defense Force and Northern Army units are to enter a state of war readiness. The garrison at River Valley Outpost is to dispatch two battalions and immediately advance toward the Great Bear Lake area to the northwest. They are to coordinate with the air units in a sweeping search. Don’t let a single Demonic Lizardman slip through!”

He paused, then turned to Nelson, whose face was pale and expression tense. In a cold voice, he said, “The matter of investigating Colonel Nelson’s culpability will be set aside for now… Return to your Defense Force regiment immediately and await war preparation orders from the Military Command.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” The half-orc officer instinctively snapped his heels together, struck his fist to his chest in a military salute, and then, as if remembering something… added with a pained expression, “Your Majesty, my son, Lari… I beg you to be lenient with him.”

Harvey waved his hand impatiently, urging him to leave. “Your son’s crimes are not as serious as yours. Don’t worry, it won’t come to execution by firing squad or hanging… Now follow your orders!”

Nelson gave his son a reluctant look, then turned and left decisively.

…

Left standing alone, Lari was terrified. Cold sweat beaded on his young face as he asked in a trembling voice, “Your Majesty… my crime… will I be stripped of my student status and exiled?”

Since he hadn’t enraged His Majesty enough to be sentenced to immediate execution by firing squad or hanging, the boy’s first thoughts naturally turned to being stripped of his citizenship in the capital, sentenced to imprisonment and hard labor, or exiled.

Harvey looked up at him and chuckled. “It’s not that serious. Although you’ve broken several of the kingdom’s laws, it’s not as if you have no chance to atone for your crimes and have your sentence reduced.”

As he spoke, he gave Chris a meaningful look. The latter immediately understood and stepped forward, saying cheerfully, “Lari Nelson, you will now be assigned to the Alchemy Laboratory, under my direct supervision. As for how long you’ll be there… the Justice Department and I will discuss it after the capital’s level-one air defense alert is lifted.”

Harvey stood up, walked over to the pale-faced boy, and clapped him on the shoulder. “No need to be so downcast. Working under Director Chris, you’ll learn the kind of alchemy knowledge you’ve always dreamed of. You won’t have to scrounge for alchemy parts in secret anymore. You’ll see alchemical constructs you’ve never even imagined…”

“But before that, you’re going to tell us exactly how you managed to reactivate an alchemical beast with a nearly depleted Soul Core.”

Chapter 577: The Non-human’s Probe

“Oh? In that case, when did you happen to discover… that the capital is filled with mana amplifiers that can be charged wirelessly?”

Harvey sat upright in a canopied alchemical wheeled vehicle, driving towards the Alchemy Laboratory under the escort of a company of his Personal Guard. The young Lari, a scion of a military family, sat nervously in the seat beside him.

“T-to… Your Majesty, at first I only heard my father mention offhandedly that there were large energy-gathering arrays built underground in the Barracks and the Maintenance Center. So I secretly took the damaged Soul Cores to those two places and found that they did indeed have a slight reaction within the mana radiation area…”

He then immediately understood that he didn’t need to directly connect the cores to the energy-gathering arrays; they could absorb sufficient mana out of thin air. After multiple attempts, he finally confirmed that there were invisible mana fluctuations near the munitions factory’s Industrial Park, the Territorial Medical Institute, the Academy of Sciences, and the Alchemy Laboratory.

Of course, the Castle District, which had the strongest wireless mana amplification effect and was also His Majesty the Emperor’s private residence, was too heavily guarded for the young man to dare approach.

Seeing the boy was being honest and providing a thorough confession of his illegal activities, Harvey nodded with satisfaction and asked, “Since you’re a qualified graduate of the public academy’s intermediate vocational education, why didn’t you choose to continue your studies in the Advanced Education Department, or join a government department after graduation?”

Lari’s face soured, and he stammered, “Your Majesty, my father wanted me to enlist, but it’s not that I didn’t try. I couldn’t even pass the physical fitness test for the Defense Force, which has more lenient recruitment standards… My stepmother is a southerner. She’d rather I inherit my grandfather’s shipping company when I come of age than join the army. After all, my family holds the contract for two ironclad cargo ships.”

Whoa! So he was from one of Starfire City’s few elite families… Harvey instantly understood. The boy looked every bit a half-orc, but his father had remarried a pure-blooded Human. The couple had an interspecies marriage.

For their family business to hold a government contract for ironclad cargo ships, won through public bidding, meant his grandfather was at least a minor noble with an honorary title. Allowing his child to marry a non-human soldier spoke volumes about his open, progressive thinking and farsighted choices.

Indeed, a young man with a clean background…

Harvey nodded to himself, then gestured to Chris sitting in the front row and said softly, “You will personally guide this boy from now on. I believe he has a limitless future.”

Lari shuddered and asked in a trembling voice, “Y-Your Majesty, what about my father’s and my crimes?”

“That depends on whether your respective actions are enough to atone for your crimes.”

As the Emperor of the united kingdom of the Northern Realm and St. Valen, he did indeed possess the supreme right of exemption over all crimes. He could directly pardon his subjects for serious offenses without a trial from the Office of Governmental Affairs or the Justice Department… but such forgiveness could not come entirely without a price, or the Emperor’s own authority and credibility would be damaged to some extent.

Atoning for their crimes, supplemented by a token bail and a fine involving demotion, was a rather fitting choice.

…

Just as the three of them in the vehicle were enthusiastically discussing the future development and study plans for Lari, the “military scion,” a piercing alarm suddenly blared from the distant north!

Wooo—wooo—wooom!

The alchemical loudspeakers hanging on street corners and in alleyways let out a sharp blast. Many civilians standing underneath them quickly covered their ears and scattered… but there wasn’t the slightest hint of panic on their faces.

The Emperor’s convoy also came to a sudden halt. The personal guard driving the wheeled vehicle gripped the steering wheel, turning to look at Harvey in a daze.

Tommy, Captain of the personal guard, was the first to react. In two steps, he leaped onto the Emperor’s vehicle, grabbed Harvey’s arm, and said urgently, “Your Majesty, please order the convoy to turn back immediately! According to the capital’s defense regulations, you must take shelter inside the castle!”

Before Harvey could refuse, Chris had already pushed aside the stunned driver and taken the driver’s seat himself, urging loudly, “It’s too far to go back the way we came! The Alchemy Laboratory has a basement. Your Majesty, please come with me to the Laboratory at once!”

With that, he stomped on the accelerator, ignoring the several personal guards in front of the vehicle, ready to drive straight into the Laboratory’s courtyard.

Such a fuss over nothing!

Harvey rolled his eyes helplessly and gently raised a hand… From the drains along the entire street, hundreds of thousands of Energy-devouring beetles suddenly surged out. Like a torrent of lightning, they swarmed the vehicle in an instant, their sheer numbers bringing the full-speed wheeled vehicle to an abrupt, grinding halt.

“What’s the panic? It’s just an air-raid siren! We’re still a half-hour drive from the city walls. Don’t tell me the Demonic Lizardmen can get past the beam-based anti-air weapons the Defense Force just fully deployed and charge directly into the core of the capital’s inner city?”

If the enemy were really that powerful, what would be the point of resisting? The Humans might as well just give up.

He pushed aside Tommy’s arm, which was blocking his way, stepped out of the wheeled vehicle, and gazed north. The Defense Force, responsible for the capital’s defense, had numerous reconnaissance airships circling the outer city, and there were alchemical spyglasses on the walls for constant observation. The probability of a false alarm was very low. For them to sound the air-raid siren directly, without going through layers of reporting… it was most likely the Winged ones of the Demonic Lizardmen.

Judging by the mobility of these flying non-humans, they had likely come from the Great Bear Lake area. It was just unclear which route they had taken to successfully bypass the sweeping cordon of the River Valley Forward Bastion and penetrate all the way to the outskirts of Starfire City.

But it was predictable that being able to secretly evade the patrolled areas and advance this deep meant it wasn’t a large-scale aerial march. At most, it was a one-way probing action.

Harvey really wanted to go to the northern city wall to see the situation for himself, but doing so would place immense invisible pressure on the Defense Force, and the Personal Guard would certainly do everything to stop him… On matters like this, his personal guards tended to treat him as a fragile mortal with no ability to defend himself, completely forgetting that their Bloodline Progenitor was also a Spellcaster.

Waving his hand to dismiss the swarm of beetles surrounding the wheeled vehicle, Harvey sighed helplessly and said, “To the Laboratory. Contact Military Command immediately. Have the supreme commander of the Defense Force report to me directly.”

“Yes, sir!” Tommy bowed with a solemn expression.

…

Just as he entered the Laboratory’s main hall, Iron Head, the deputy leader of the personal guard, hurried over to Harvey, carrying a heavy alchemical communicator. “Your Majesty, Colonel Vaughn and Colonel Nelson are hailing you!”

Harvey took the communicator’s handset, and two familiar voices immediately came through.

“Your Majesty, 2.5 kilometers north of the capital, a reconnaissance airship has spotted a company of Winged Demonic Lizardmen. They are approaching the city wall area in a low-altitude flight, using intersecting cover!”

“The North Gate is closed! The Second Regiment of the Defense Force assembled two minutes ago and is currently on standby in the city wall area!”

“We are conducting an emergency evacuation of the outer city’s populace. We expect to activate the anti-air systems and attack in ten minutes!”

Chapter 578: Anti-Air Raid (Part 1)

Nelson stood inside a defensive fortress on the city wall, his eyes pressed to a spyglass. His palms were slick with sweat.

This was the first time he had seen Demonic Lizardmen with his own eyes. The monsters flew low, hugging the treetops of the dense forest, their wingspans alone a good four or five meters long.

Compared to the dissected specimens displayed in City Hall and the magic stone recordings they were forced to watch repeatedly in military briefings, the living targets gave him a palpable sense of pressure.

“One hundred and twenty! Colonel, we’ve triple-checked the count. Confirmed one hundred and twenty hostiles incoming!” reported a soldier responsible for observation, leaning in.

Nelson’s brow furrowed, and he couldn’t help but correct him, “One hundred and twenty of them! What ‘people’? You can’t call these monsters that!”

Through the spyglass’s amplified view, the enemy’s forms were alarmingly clear: thin, bat-like fleshy wings, reverse-jointed limbs that bent at unnatural angles, swollen joints… and the deep red crystalline faceplates on their heads, with breathing sacs behind their ears that constantly inflated and deflated.

Each of the Winged ones carried a rust-stained black water weapon canister on its back, but this didn’t mean they were limited to black water attacks. The previous raid on the Ice Sea Base outpost had clearly indicated that these monsters, which had evolved the ability to fly in a short period, strangely possessed two attack methods: black water and a red light.

The cannons on the wall had long since had their waterproof tarps removed, and soldiers from two battalion headquarters had also taken their designated combat positions. No one showed any sign of panic; there wasn’t even a whisper among the soldiers. Everyone’s gaze was fixed in the same direction.

The ultimate goal, which absolutely had to be achieved, was clear in everyone’s mind: not a single one of the Winged ones could be allowed to breach the city wall’s anti-air defense line and invade the capital where the civilians lived!

General Pierce, the Commander-in-Chief of the army, was currently at the Ice Sea Base, a great distance away. The Northern Army was temporarily under the command of Colonel Vaughn, commander of the First Independent Regiment. He too had ascended the wall and was now discussing engagement tactics with Nelson in the command fortress.

“The Beam Weapons are all preheated. Against these fly-like creatures, cannons and machine guns will likely be useless. I believe they’ll scatter the moment they approach the wall, trying to get over it and into the capital.”

Vaughn, after all, had faced the enemy once before. Although he hadn’t fought the Winged ones directly, he knew a fair bit about them from numerous after-action reviews and combat footage.

Besides, the Northern Army was clearly superior to the Defense Force in both status and combat strength. It wasn’t an overreach of authority for him to be giving direct advice over Nelson’s head.

Nelson felt a flicker of displeasure, but he swallowed it down and asked, “Should we consider a response in case they accidentally breach our defenses? Some of the factories and industrial parks near the northern wall haven’t been ordered to evacuate.”

Vaughn shook his head decisively. “That won’t be necessary. The Independent Airship Regiment has already taken off. Even if the enemy tries to gain altitude to avoid the anti-air beams from the wall… they’ll be exposed to long-range sniping from the Airship squad. Our Air Force is equipped with Beam Weapons too.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the spotter shouted his report, “Sir! The enemy is approaching the wall! Visual range is now within five hundred meters!”

“They’re trying to gain altitude, just as expected!”

“First Defense Battalion requests permission to fire!”

“Second Defense Battalion requests permission to fire!”

Nelson raised the communicator, about to speak… but Vaughn grabbed his arm, saying in a low voice, “Wait! Let them get closer!”

Despite the momentary hesitation, requests to fire from combat departments in various sectors continued to flood the communicator.

Among them were real-time reports from several observation posts.

“Target confirmed! Within visual range, eight hundred meters… seven hundred… six hundred!”

“Eleven o’clock! Targets have spread into a V-formation!”

“Five hundred meters!”

Vaughn released his grip on Nelson’s arm. “You can give the order to fire now,” he said softly.

…

Hick strained his eyes, staring intently at the eleven o’clock position to the north, keeping the high-speed figures of the enemy locked in his sights.

He had seen the enemy’s corpse specimens during new recruit training shortly after enlisting and had repeatedly watched combat footage during his evening studies, but this was the first time he had seen the Demonic Lizardmen with his own eyes from the city wall.

But he didn’t feel fear. Although his arm was trembling slightly from tension, it was just due to his unfamiliarity with the Beam Weapon… Besides, with a veteran instructor present, he likely wouldn’t get the chance to operate this newly implemented weapon himself.

They had thought the enemy would try to climb high before reaching the wall, attempting to fly over it and invade the capital directly. Who would have thought they had overestimated the enemy’s intelligence? After a brief climb to about two hundred meters, the group of Winged ones immediately formed up and began to dive toward the soldiers gathered on the wall.

They probably thought the soldiers, exposed in plain sight, were nothing but defenseless, sitting ducks…

When mounted on airships, the energy beam weapons primarily used a focused attack, concentrating the energy to its peak to achieve extreme range. However, the anti-air weapon systems deployed on the city wall did the opposite. They sacrificed the maximum range of two thousand meters and, using a honeycomb device, changed the energy beam into a wide-area scatter. Though the range was less than five hundred meters, the concentrated volley from dozens of beam cannons was enough to weave a web of fire in the sky with almost no gaps.

In numerous combat drills, they had even managed to prevent fist-sized spherical targets dropped by airships from passing through the kill zone, shredding them with the dense beams.

When the fire command came through the communicators on the wall, Hick instinctively turned to his veteran instructor. He saw an expression of strange confidence and disgust on the man’s face as he skillfully raised the angle of the beam cannon, instantly centering a target above them in his sights.

“Target locked!”

“Fire!”

The veteran took a deep breath and pulled the trigger with a savage grin.

A brilliant radiance erupted from the muzzle of the beam cannon. A thick pillar of light shot from the barrel, instantly transforming into countless fine points of light that fanned out in a brilliant spray, forming a massive, dazzling net of light.

At almost the same instant, several adjacent anti-air combat groups opened fire. The violent hum of the energy weapons made Hick’s eardrums ache. The city wall seemed to boil over in an instant.

The Winged Demonic Lizardmen’s dive met this impenetrable aerial defense net head-on.

The next moment, conspicuous “fireworks” of red and black burst across the sky.

As the “fireworks” bloomed, chunks of flesh and gore rained from the sky. In the chaos, Hick even saw a small piece of a fleshy wing, blasted by the energy beam, land just a few meters in front of him.

The air was instantly filled with a foul stench that was unfamiliar yet nauseating to everyone… the smell of rust and blood.

Chapter 579: Anti-Air Raid (Part 2)

The twenty-some Winged ones at the forefront flew straight into the net of light unleashed by the Defense Force, instantly obliterated into fragments under the downpour-like assault from the beam weapons.

A shower of blood rained down over the city walls, forcing the remaining enemies in the rear to abruptly halt their dive, desperately beating their fleshy wings to evade in the opposite direction.

At the same time, the sniper squad embedded within the anti-air unit’s formations quickly locked onto them. Sporadic gunshots rang out from the walls, each one followed by an enemy in the distance, who had just managed to stabilize itself mid-air, being struck by a bullet… Its entire body snapped in two at the waist, plummeting straight to the ground.

More and more enemies were exposed to the sniper rifles. The lethal threat from the city walls forced them to remain in constant flight, just to dodge the Reaper’s scythe.

Hick squinted. He suddenly saw three Winged ones sway and break away from the enemy’s aerial formation, deliberately clustering together. Two of them extended their long, twisted arms and pressed them onto the shoulders of the third… Through the spyglass, he could clearly see their slender arms suddenly swell to twice their size. The one whose shoulders were clasped then snapped its hands together and raised them, a brilliant red light shining from its palms.

“Look out!” a few observers who had noticed the anomaly cried out in warning. Upon hearing them, the soldiers instinctively ducked behind the cover of the battlements.

A violent explosion roared an instant later. Amidst the spreading dust and smoke… a small, semi-enclosed sentry fort on the wall had been blasted apart, half of it collapsing. A few soldiers who couldn’t get out in time were buried under a pile of bricks and rubble, their blood slowly seeping out between the stone fragments.

The medical team rushed up the wall’s stairs and began the rescue under the cover of other soldiers. Although the scene was momentarily chaotic, the vast majority of soldiers held their ground, not one deserting their post.

The Winged one that had unleashed the super-powered red light attack was hit by the Airship squad approaching from the rear. It struggled for a moment before crashing sideways into the hard city wall, leaving a huge, dark red smear. The soldiers on the wall immediately erupted in loud cheers.

Dozens of combat airships, arriving belatedly, now sailed directly over the city walls in pursuit of the enemies fleeing in disarray in the distance.

…

Nelson, who had been supervising the battle from the wall, finally breathed a sigh of relief. Fortunately, the enemy hadn’t committed a large force to this surprise air raid. Although the Defense Force had shown its inexperience, it had successfully repelled and annihilated the attackers with its anti-air beams.

However, during the swift half-hour battle, only the attack method of the three Winged ones linking up to release a red light had caused the Defense Force to suffer a small loss. One defensive sentry post on the wall was destroyed, and two soldiers were unfortunately killed… Another three were seriously injured and immediately sent to the military hospital for treatment.

Thinking of this, he subconsciously turned to Vaughn, only to find the man’s expression unusually grim. Nelson asked, puzzled, “The enemy’s red light attack was several times more powerful than expected, completely incomparable to what we’ve seen in combat footage. What’s going on?”

Vaughn placed a hand on the hilt of his officer’s sword. After a moment of silence, he gritted his teeth and said, “Have these damn monsters already learned the clustered casting of human Spellcasters?”

It was a guess impossible to verify, so he naturally wouldn’t answer Nelson’s question lightly. He could only say in a low voice, “Don’t lift the alarm just yet. We’ll wait until the Airship squad returns from their pursuit… I must see His Majesty at once to report on the battle.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and hurried down from the city wall.

…

By the time Vaughn crossed the inner city and reached the Alchemy Laboratory, Harvey had already received a report on the battle via the alchemical communicator… Aside from the enemies killed directly by the anti-air weapons, the Airship squad had not let a single fleeing Winged one escape. The anti-air raid operation could be considered a complete victory.

“You saw it with your own eyes? That Winged one released a tremendously powerful red light by linking with two others of its kind?” Harvey paced slowly around the room, his brows furrowed as he pressed for details.

“Your Majesty, it’s absolutely true… Other Winged ones also tried to attack us, but whether it was black crystalline spikes or ordinary red-light lightning, they couldn’t even reach the top of the walls. The range advantage of our beam weapons is very clear.”

But these non-human races had never fought the Mage Corps before. Even if they possessed the ability of evolutionary mimicry, how could they have learned a casting technique unique to human wizards out of thin air?

It couldn’t be a talent they suddenly awakened to during that very battle, could it?

If the enemy truly possessed such a terrifying ability for instantaneous evolution—even if only a portion of their high-rank groups had this trait—it would be a threat Harvey could not afford to underestimate. It would also indirectly confirm why, after revealing the existence of two Floating Island fortresses, they hadn’t immediately launched a large-scale invasion.

They were observing and mimicking humanity’s various combat advantages and traits, learning the parts that were beneficial to them. They were waiting for the right moment to give humanity a taste of its own medicine.

Harvey sighed. Just as he was about to ask about the public’s reaction to the air raid… a personal guard hurried in from outside the Laboratory, bowed, and reported, “Your Majesty, the reconnaissance airship sent to the Great Bear Lake area has sent back a message. The Demonic Lizardmen’s Floating Island Number 3… has appeared there, just as predicted!”

“How large is the floating island?”

“Visually, it’s comparable to Floating Island Number 1 at the Isengard Great Fissure. It should be a secondary fortress, not as large as Main Keep Number 2 in the ice sea region.”

“Can you tell what the enemy’s intentions are? What about the troop capacity of Floating Island Number 3?” Vaughn couldn’t help but straighten up, eagerly asking before Harvey could.

The personal guard relaying the message shook his head. “To avoid revealing the airship’s position, the reconnaissance squad maintained a great distance from the floating island. They could only observe the general situation through a spyglass and couldn’t get a clear picture of its internal troop capacity.”

At this, Vaughn’s brow furrowed even more tightly than Harvey’s. “Your Majesty! Please immediately halt the reinforcement of the Ice Sea Base! I recommend the Northern Army shift its focus and concentrate all efforts on dealing with Floating Island Number 3 at Great Bear Lake!”

After all, it was the non-human race’s fortress closest to Starfire City. The Winged ones could even skillfully bypass the River Valley Outpost’s perimeter and reach the foot of the Spine of the Continent Mountains within a day and a night to launch a probing attack on the capital.

To counter the offensive from Isengard, the border operation plan had already transferred two Regiments totaling six thousand soldiers. If the reinforcement of the Ice Sea Base continued until it reached its planned strength of two Regiments… Starfire City would be left with only a single Northern Army Regiment for its defense. Even counting the two Defense Force Regiments, which lacked significant combat experience, the kingdom’s heart would be in an alarmingly vulnerable and undefended state. It was a deeply worrying situation.

Harvey pondered for a moment before speaking slowly, “After the air-raid siren is lifted, return to the castle with me immediately… And inform the two Chiefs, Your Excellencies, that I request their presence for a meeting as soon as possible.”

Chapter 580: Shallow-Water Gunboat

“The Federation’s battle mages have never had any contact with this non-human race. We would never conceal such important intelligence, not in the slightest,” Salas said, his expression grave.

Dawson, dressed in a simple, traditional robe and clearly having just rushed back from the academy, nodded in agreement. “That’s right. Ever since the Demons lingering in the Evil Moon Mountain Range retreated, Gallagher never stopped sending reconnaissance airships to scout the barren lands. Besides observing significant troop movements from the Demons, we’ve seen no trace of this non-human race’s activity.”

They were both well aware that if the Demonic Lizardmen were to invade the south from the Evil Moon Mountain Range, the Demons in the western barren lands would be their first target. As long as that warlike, bloodthirsty humanoid race wasn’t completely defeated, Blackstone City would never face a threat.

The two Legendary Chiefs had also heard about the air-raid siren that sounded today. But as guests in the Northern Realm, out of basic respect, they would never presume to intervene in a battle unless Harvey personally requested their aid.

“It was just a probing attack. It didn’t cause any damage to Starfire City.” Harvey paused, then sighed. “But what worries me is that their evolution in combat methods seems to have sped up considerably.”

Salas mulled it over for a moment before slowly asking, “Are you planning to deploy troops against the non-human race’s fortress at Great Bear Lake immediately?”

“That’s right. But if we rely solely on ground troops to advance slowly, I’m afraid it won’t have the effect of a surprise attack… We’ll likely spook the target. We don’t know if there are other, smaller floating islands in the Great Bear Lake area.”

After all, Starfire City could rely on its high walls and pre-established anti-air systems. Even when facing an enemy several times its size, it could calmly launch decisive counterattacks from behind its tight defensive lines.

But once they decided to take the offensive, dispatching troops to the barren lands hundreds of kilometers away to fight a non-human fortress occupied by over ten thousand Demonic Lizardmen, a single Regiment would be completely outmatched.

Unless faced with a desperate crisis, Harvey would never choose to engage the enemy in a bloody seesaw battle or a war of attrition.

The “war of attrition” tactic, which ate away at the Humans’ effective strength, was a slow-acting poison leading to the abyss of failure.

“’The Son of Flame and the Stormwalker, leading the Blackstone City Mage Corps, have already reached the old capital. They will arrive in the Northern Realm in three days at the earliest.” Salas, who knew perfectly well what kind of tactic Harvey might propose, took the initiative to suggest, “Rather than having mortal soldiers slowly advance on the enemy, a plan involving eight high-rank Spellcasters and nearly a hundred mid-rank battle mages carrying enough high-explosive aerial bombs to conduct an aerial bombardment should be quite effective.”

With that, he turned to Dawson, winked, and said with a light laugh, “Of course, if you were to ask for it, it wouldn’t be out of the question for Dawson to join this surprise attack squad and provide you with significant support.”

Suddenly put on the spot, Dawson rubbed his red nose and said awkwardly, “Speaking of combat… ahem, the last time was sixty years ago, back when I was on rotational duty in Blackstone City, before I advanced to the Legendary-rank.”

A research-type Spellcaster’s battlefield is usually within a magic laboratory.

Hearing this, Harvey quickly waved his hands and laughed in spite of himself. “It’s not so serious that we need a Chief Excellency to personally take to the battlefield…”

As they spoke, a secretary from Military Command knocked and hurried into the office, respectfully placing a freshly prepared report on the desk.

Harvey picked it up and skimmed it for a moment, nodding to himself. “This is the plan to raid Great Bear Lake that Military Command just finished drafting. I’d like both of you Chief Excellencies to look it over as well.”

Salas glanced at it once and exclaimed in surprise, “Naval-air tactics? You plan to dispatch ironclad warships to coordinate with an Airship squad?”

“’That’s right. Airships alone won’t be able to punch through the Floating Island’s defenses. To maximize the attrition of the enemy’s effective strength, we also need to support the attack with an artillery barrage from the ironclad ships.” He stood up and suggested to the two Chiefs, “The specific implementation of this tactic will require close cooperation from the Federation’s battle mages. Let’s head to the warship harbor first. We can talk on the way.”

…

The first generation of ironclad ships built by Starfire City hadn’t been designed with the transport of heavy firepower in mind. It was only after the Northern Realm completely doubled its steel production that Harvey began to gradually phase out the first-generation ironclads. They were either converted for civilian use or transferred to garrison other riverside cities in the south, while he himself pushed forward with the intense development of the second-generation ironclad warships.

To construct these even larger, new-model ironclad warships, he had specially built an inland deep-water port at a river bend downstream on the Icefield River, east of the capital, where the east coast garrison regiment was stationed. He dispatched a large number of engineering alchemical beasts to widen the river channel, erected a tall surrounding wall, and assigned the Defense Force to garrison the location.

Unlike the tributaries of the Icefield River, which were only about a hundred meters wide and could be crossed by a great river bridge, the main river channel was five to six hundred meters wide, providing the perfect conditions to build large deep-water docks.

The group arrived at the harbor in a grand procession of alchemical wheeled vehicles. Under the uniform gaze of the workers, they headed straight into the largest dock, Dock Number 1.

“Such a massive metal creation… is this truly a feat achievable by mortals alone?” Salas folded his sleeves, tilting his head back slightly to gaze at the enormous ship before them.

In appearance, it was largely similar to the old ironclad ships that frequently sailed the rivers—its angular hull was pointed at the bow and wide at the stern, its sides were almost vertical, and its belly was flat with no protruding keel. Only the welded rivets covering its hull proved that its construction methods had not entirely surpassed the technical level of mortal artisans.

“We only used a large number of alchemical beasts to replace manual labor during the hoisting, welding, and assembly stages. Beyond that, there was no work that required the participation of Spellcasters,” Harvey explained modestly.

But no one would believe that any other nation in the south had the capability to build such an intimidating steel creation. Even if they possessed the same patent for magical energy to replace sail power, an ordinary kingdom simply couldn’t produce the enormous quantities of refined steel needed for shipbuilding.

Only a city like Starfire City, with its vast and advanced heavy industry as a foundation and its application of magic to every aspect of manufacturing, could create the war machine before them—a vessel in no way inferior to the Demonic Lizardmen’s Floating Island fortress.

Spellshield swallowed hard and said dryly, “Are you planning to have Spellcasters pilot this steel behemoth straight from the Icefield River into Great Bear Lake… and then ram Floating Island Number 3 to pieces?”

Their current position near the bow of the warship gave them a perfect view of the huge, single-cast metal ram at the prow, which inevitably sent the imaginations of the visiting Spellcasters from the Federation running wild.

“Ram it? Mr. Spellshield, you must be joking.” Harvey couldn’t help but laugh. “The second-generation ironclad is only one hundred twenty meters long and about fifteen meters wide at its widest point. Its main characteristics are speed and maneuverability. How could it possibly go head-to-head with a Floating Island?”

With that, he led the group onto the ship’s deck, pointed at the workers busy with the final outfitting, and explained, “The second-generation ironclad will be equipped with four magical-powered cores. At full load, it can reach a top speed of fifteen kilometers per hour, a full twice as fast as an ordinary civilian ironclad.”

Furthermore, for its most important feature—the weaponry—Harvey had gone all out, fitting it with a top-of-the-line configuration: four fixed anti-air beam cannons, four large-caliber Magical Energy Naval Cannons, arrays of machine guns mounted along both sides of the hull, and even a small airship landing and takeoff platform on the stern.

“At our current pace, we can have two of the new ironclad warships launched within three days. After setting aside another half a day for operational testing… they can set out for Great Bear Lake immediately.”

Chapter 581: A Long-Awaited Meeting

Salas and Dawson slowly paced back and forth on the deck of the ironclad warship, occasionally exchanging a few cordial words with the workers responsible for the outfitting, and at other times, asking questions of Harvey, who was accompanying them.

The two Legendary Mages were in a rather complicated mood… Ironclad ships had appeared more than a year ago, and recently, their presence had spread throughout the major inland waterways of the south. Most people knew that these were sailless magical ships whose hulls were forged entirely from steel and driven by magical energy.

Just when everyone thought the core technology and greatest advantage of the ironclad ships lay in their revolutionary magical-powered application, the truth before their eyes told them otherwise.

Starfire City didn’t just rely on its monopoly over magical energy… Even without the power cores, the sheer amount of material required to weld together vast numbers of standardized steel plates was an astronomical figure.

There were countless kingdoms in the nations of the south rich in iron and steel, and the pig iron produced by the mines was hardly a rare commodity. A cartload of pig iron ingots brought to a blacksmith’s shop would sell for one gold pound at most. Having a skilled blacksmith forge it into steel might increase the price five to ten times… Only by commissioning an Alchemist to mix in magical minerals and repeatedly refine it could it fetch a high price.

But this process was tedious and extremely time-consuming. A workshop with a resident Alchemist, working year-round without a break, could only forge about a dozen sets of refined steel armor and an equal number of finely crafted weapons. Even if all these craftsmen were gathered together and worked for several years, it would be impossible for them to build the steel behemoth before them.

Watching the ordinary workers on the deck holding mechanical boxes loaded with Soul Core tuners, skillfully maneuvering alchemical beasts to climb high and low, the Spellcasters of the Federation felt a mixture of irony and bitterness… In that moment, the noble status of a transcendent being seemed to have faded, becoming indistinguishable from the crowd in this massive dock.

…

After leaving Warship Harbor, the group sat in silence in the alchemical wheeled vehicle. Halfway back, however, Harvey suddenly received a report from his personal guard.

“Your Majesty, there’s news from Grizzly Keep. The Mages from Blackstone City will arrive in the Northern Realm in two hours. The Mage Leader in charge… a Mr. Fell Hoden, who claims to be your close friend, asks if you will be going to The Central Station to welcome him personally.”

Harvey coughed in embarrassment upon hearing this and glanced sideways at Chief Dawson… When the Chief of the Federation arrived in Starfire City, he hadn’t even taken the time to greet him. If he agreed now, wouldn’t it seem disrespectful to the Legendary Mage?

Dawson, however, didn’t mind. He said with a smile, “Go ahead, Your Majesty. I haven’t seen that guy Fell in over a year. I’ll go with you…”

Salas, who had been sitting beside them with a stern face, suddenly snorted and asked Harvey, “Your Majesty, Spellcasters are not forbidden from flying within Starfire City, are they?”

“If it’s just within the inner city… and not near my castle or the anti-air defense zones along the city walls, then in theory, it is not forbidden…” Harvey replied, stunned for a moment with a strange expression.

Before he could finish, Salas shot into the air and flew straight toward the Federation building without a backward glance, leaving everyone on the ground frozen in shock.

“Ahem… The old fellow’s pride was a little wounded. Please don’t take it to heart, Your Majesty,” Dawson said, rubbing his nose as he patiently explained, “He and Fell have been on bad terms for nearly ten years. They’ve always avoided each other whenever possible.”

Harvey nodded in understanding. He had heard rumors to this effect during his trip to the City of Magic but never knew the full story… Naturally, his curiosity was now burning. He asked with a smile, “Why is that? Mr. Fell himself has an unblemished reputation, he’s warm and direct with people, and I’ve heard he was one of the Mage Leaders with an illustrious combat record while stationed in the Evil Moon Mountain Range. He shouldn’t bring any shame to Lord Salas, should he?”

“It concerns the factional strife among the orthodox Mages of the south, as well as bloodline scandals involving several ancient wizard families… Your Majesty should not inquire further. I can’t be casually revealing the personal privacy of a Legendary Caster.”

Harvey shrugged and wisely chose to stay silent.

…

By the time the group arrived at The Central Station outside the South Gate, “Stormwalker” Matthews Willy and his contingent of battle mages had already disembarked from the train. They were standing on the platform with their leather suitcases, chatting with a station official.

“Mr. Willy!” Harvey called out loudly, walking closer with a smile. “On behalf of Starfire City, I welcome you all to the Northern Realm!”

The Stormwalker turned his head and immediately spotted the short, slightly balding Chief Dawson standing next to the unfamiliar, well-dressed young man who had greeted him. He quickly bowed and said, “Greetings, Your Majesty Harvey… and Your Excellency Dawson. Please forgive me… I was unable to prevent Fell from making the impertinent request for His Majesty the Emperor to come and welcome him personally.”

Dawson rolled his eyes and muttered, “Who could possibly stop him! You said you’d be here in three days at the earliest. How did you get here so quickly?”

Matthews’s mouth twitched into a wry smile. “We had originally arrived in Fengyuan City yesterday and planned to rest for a day before heading north… but that guy Fell was just so impatient. He forcefully demanded that the officials at Fengyuan City Hall urgently dispatch ships for us, insisting on reaching Grizzly Keep overnight…”

But the journey north was entirely against the current. Even if an ironclad ship was at full power, the safety of night navigation had to be considered. The beleaguered transportation officials, at their wits’ end, had no choice but to deploy all five of Fengyuan City’s floating Airships. Only then were they able to carry the nearly one hundred battle mages, traveling through the night to reach their destination.

Harvey glanced around and asked, puzzled, “But why don’t I see Mr. Fell?”

Matthews removed the gentleman’s hat from his head and said awkwardly, “After arriving at Grizzly Keep, he learned that we would need to take your Magical-Powered Train through the underground tunnels of the Spine of the Gods Mountains to enter the Northern Realm… and he suddenly… ahem, got excited and insisted on using a flight spell to cross the Spine of the Continent Mountains to race the train.”

The explanation only made things worse. As the Stormwalker spoke, the battle mages gathered around all turned their heads away in embarrassment, clearly speechless at their leader’s erratic behavior.

Matthews quickly added, “Please don’t mind him. Fell was also testing his newly modified high-circle flight spell. If all goes well, he should be arriving shor—”

Before he could finish, the personal guards who had cleared the area and were maintaining security on the platform suddenly drew their weapons from their waists, their expressions tense as they aimed at the sky.

A figure wreathed in blazing flames descended from the heavens with a thunderous roar, crashing heavily into an open space on the station grounds a few dozen meters from Harvey, causing the surrounding crowd to scream and scatter.

“Hahaha! Damn it! Why couldn’t I outrun this heavy hunk of iron that can only run on the ground? Mr. Kel’Thuzad! My old friend! How long has it been?”

Harvey looked closely. Standing in the large crater that had just been formed was a familiar face with tattered clothes and a disheveled appearance.

His deep red, short hair stood on end, and his build was sturdy and tall… but his face was a little pale, and a hint of sweat was visible on his forehead, as if the high-speed flight had nearly burned his mana to cinders.

Wasn’t this “Son of Flame,” Mr. Fell Hoden, whom he hadn’t seen in so long?

Chapter 582: A Banquet at the Castle

As night fell, the King’s castle was ablaze with light. The Personal Guard stood stationed around the building in a tight cordon, while flights of attendants and servants bustled to and fro.

The banquet hall on the castle’s first floor was abuzz with voices. Hundreds of magic stone lamps hung from the ceiling, their soft glow replacing candles and torches as they illuminated the room. On the long dining tables, an array of fine wines and exquisite dishes shimmered in the light. The Spellcasters from the Federation, all dressed in formal attire, gathered in small groups, either conversing in low voices or admiring the various splendors of the evening’s feast.

Harvey felt that a social banquet, where one could eat and chat, was a much faster way to build rapport between the Federation Mages and the kingdom’s upper echelons than a dry, formal meeting. After all, a great war was imminent. Rather than having them immediately split into two opposing, businesslike factions, it was better to warm up the atmosphere first. Getting to know one another would make future communication much easier.

Spellcasters, regardless of their faction or origin, were generally a self-disciplined and restrained lot; not many were given to drink or hedonism. Nevertheless, faced with the feast meticulously prepared by the royal culinary team, they couldn’t help but reach out time and again to sample the unprecedented delicacies and mellow wines, their curiosity piqued.

“Tsk, tsk. Using magic potion ingredients to brew fine wine… I dare say you’re the only one who would do something like this.” Ferr picked up a glass offered by a servant and, with a bold flourish, drained it in one gulp. He clicked his tongue in admiration. “To think there’d come a day when a Spellcaster like me would be so provincially impressed.”

Harvey shrugged and waved off the Son of Flame’s invitation to a drinking match. “They all say Starfire City is the second City of Magic, a new Araye rising in the Northern Realm,” he said with a smile. “What are your thoughts on that?”

“A conservative, old-fashioned place like Araye can’t compare to this,” Ferr said, popping a slice of honey-glazed fruit into his mouth. He squinted and smiled. “If the magic politicians in Araye demanded I travel through the night to return and report for duty, I’d just tell them they were full of hot air!”

He paused and leaned in close to Harvey’s ear, whispering, “Chief Gallagher personally approved our coming to the Northern Realm to join your New Federation in our personal capacities. It’s because the northern non-human races are about to make a major move, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. We are about to launch a military operation against them, and there will be many areas where we’ll need to rely on your Mage Corps.”

The Stormwalker, who had been listening intently nearby, quickly asked, “What exactly do you need us to do? I hear Your Majesty has his own full-strength formation of battle mages. Do we just need to coordinate with them?”

The Son of Flame, who seemed to have gathered quite a bit of inside information before arriving, curled his lip. “As for those mortal soldiers of yours who use magical weapons, I must admit I’m impressed by their combat effectiveness and disciplined will. But your Mage Corps… it’s a bit lacking, isn’t it? I hear it’s just a group of research mages who’ve been forced to step up, correct?”

Harvey gave a wry smile. “You really have found out everything, haven’t you? It’s true. The majority of people in my Academy of Sciences and Spellcaster school are from research backgrounds. It’s indeed asking a lot of them to pilot floating Airships and fight Demonic Lizardmen.”

This statement subtly praised the Federation’s Mage Corps, and Ferr’s face immediately lit up with a broad, delighted grin. “Rest assured,” he said heartily. “Of the hundred or so battle mages we’ve deployed this time, ten of them are high-rank. The rest are all mid-rank veterans of many battles. We will absolutely not be a burden.”

With that, he rubbed his hands together excitedly, his eyes filled with a fervent gleam as he murmured, “I’ve long wanted to see those magical weapons you’ve developed. Besides the Gun of Annihilation, you must be holding onto plenty of new toys, right? The Magical-Powered Cannon, the long-range Beam Weapon, and that one-shot-one-kill… what’s it called? Magical Energy Sniper Rifle?”

Harvey waved his hand, a hint of resignation in his light laugh. “You’ll see all the various weapons that are about to be deployed at tomorrow’s special military operations briefing. Before that, I think it’s more important for you to familiarize yourselves with the combat methods of our non-human enemies and their strange individual characteristics.”

He then beckoned to the half-orc officer, Vaughn, who had been standing a short distance away by his side. “Come and meet my capable subordinate, Colonel Vaughn. He is also the First Commander of this military operation.”

A half-orc? The two battle mages from the Federation exchanged a look, their expressions somewhat peculiar.

The Son of Flame made no effort to hide his feelings as he pulled Harvey aside. “My dear friend,” he said with a frown, “do you… not have any other high-level casters available? The Wolfwalker, the Eye of Illusion, and the Astrologer—all three of them have quite the resounding reputation in the Northern Realm.”

“But none of them have experience commanding an army in battle. Besides, the organizational structures of Spellcaster units and mortal armies are vastly different. The combat coordination and tactical deployment of soldiers require an experienced commander to take the central seat.”

Harvey knew full well the source of his old friend’s doubts and concerns. An orthodox Mage like him, accustomed to the lofty status of a Spellcaster, would naturally not be willing to take orders from a strange non-human officer. Coupled with his frank and direct personality, he would be difficult to win over unless Harvey himself took the title of Commander-in-Chief. Anyone else would struggle to earn his immediate and wholehearted submission.

Meanwhile, Vaughn, who was standing to the side, was already seething with dissatisfaction. It was one thing for this Mage from the Federation to act as His Majesty’s friend, but his conduct was exceedingly rude and disrespectful. He showed none of the deference or awareness one should have before His Majesty. And now, he even dared to openly oppose His Majesty’s will right in front of him.

He endured it as long as he could, but his patience finally wore thin. He placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, stepped forward, and said with a sullen face, “Mr. Ferr, are you publicly questioning His Majesty’s arrangements?”

Ferr raised an eyebrow and let out a soft chuckle. “Bloodline Warrior, I am speaking with the Liege to whom you have pledged fealty. It is not your place to interrupt.”

Vaughn’s expression stiffened, his anger now impossible to hide. Just as he was about to erupt, he looked up and saw His Majesty give him an impassive, subtle look. A gentle voice suddenly rang in his mind, “Don’t stoop to this guy’s level. I will find a way to convince him to obey your command. Stand down for now…”

Even as an extraordinary warrior who had awakened a high-rank bloodline, Vaughn would be no match for the Son of Flame in a fistfight or close combat without the use of deadly weapons. Harvey had a good grasp of this and quickly intervened to stop their mutual provocation.

Only after Vaughn had stepped back, fuming, did he turn to the Son of Flame and say with a serious expression, “The Commander of this operation was personally appointed by me. Mr. Ferr, for my sake, please do not make things too difficult for him.”

The Son of Flame threw up his hands in a nonchalant gesture. “For your sake, I will give him the respect he is due. But as for his command ability and combat strength… that remains to be seen. I would never easily entrust my life and safety into the hands of another—aside from you, of course.”

Beside them, the Stormwalker shook his head with a wry smile and shot Harvey an apologetic look.

Chapter 583: The Battle Plan

“This is the general battle plan, gentlemen… Now, we will discuss the specific details of the operation. Please feel free to raise any questions you may have.” Harvey set down the documents, placing his palms flat on the table. He scanned the room with a resolute gaze, his voice calm and steady.

Unsurprisingly, the first one to jump out and cause trouble was Mr. Son of Flame. He gently closed the tactical report in his hands, stood up, and frowned. “According to the strategy laid out by Military Command, the role we battle mages piloting the floating airships will play in this surprise attack… is merely to act as decoys?”

“You’ll be both a decoy and a sharp sword that can launch an effective counterattack when the time is right…” Harvey explained patiently. “We must consider that Floating Island Number 3 will certainly have anti-air defenses. The airships won’t be able to get close enough to conduct a bombing run. Furthermore, the Demonic Lizardmen’s carapaces possess a natural resistance to magic, making it equally dangerous for mages to leave the cover of their aerial vehicles for ground combat.”

The slightest misstep could see this group of just over one hundred battle mages trapped by an enemy force tens of times their number… After all, the Demonic Lizardmen could replenish their black water on the spot, whereas a spellcaster’s mana, once exhausted, could not be recovered in an instant.

The clustered casting the Mage Corps was so proud of was only effective at close range. Against the island’s own robust defenses, it was unlikely to deal any devastating damage, to say nothing of the Demonic Lizardmen’s ability to conjure Black Crystal Shields.

“The only thing you can achieve is to use your airships to draw away the majority of the Winged ones, providing air cover for the Shallow-Water Gunboats that will be conducting a precision bombardment of the Floating Island from several kilometers away,” Vaughn stated, his expression grim, bluntly pointing out the critical issue.

Stormwalker thought for a moment before taking the initiative to ask, “Have any of our spellcasters engaged them in direct combat before? Just how tough is that strange, magic-resistant carapace of theirs?”

Duncan, who was seated beside Harvey, sat up straight and spoke slowly. “A seventh-circle creation-type offensive spell, Arcane Storm, is almost ineffective against them. They’re also nearly immune to a Necromancer’s mid-rank poison magic… But if you can destroy their carapace with a physical attack, the magic resistance of their bodies will be greatly weakened. A single low-circle magic missile would be enough to blast those things to bits.”

Eye of Illusion pondered for a moment before adding, “Force-field magic can effectively defend against their black water attacks. As for elemental magic, ice can freeze their bodies and slow them down, while fire magic can easily ignite their black water in its liquid state… that stuff ignites on contact, just like fire oil.”

With two high-rank battle mages personally sharing their experiences, Son of Flame’s expression turned to one of satisfaction. He nodded and said, “In that case, these non-human monsters aren’t completely invulnerable. And what I happen to excel at… is precisely fire magic.”

As for needing a physical attack to achieve “Armor Break” in battle… A savage grin appeared on Ferr’s lips. His powerful, magically enhanced body was in no way inferior to a Bloodline Warrior’s. Even with just his sandbag-sized fists, he could pound those carapace-covered monsters into a pile of mush.

With that, he raised his chin smugly, pointed at the prim and proper Commander Vaughn across the table, and chuckled. “There’s nothing wrong with us being the decoys, but Mr. Commander… when your mortal soldiers run into trouble on the battlefield, don’t forget to call for help from us ‘decoys’ in the sky.”

“Call for help? The Northern Army only ever rescues others. In all our time fighting under His Majesty, we’ve never been in a situation where we needed rescuing by spellcasters.” Vaughn’s face darkened, but in Harvey’s presence, he suppressed his anger and retorted in a low, firm voice.

Son of Flame scratched his head and curled his lip. “True… After all, you only need to stay on your ironclad warships, hide a few kilometers from the battlefield, and fire a few cannons. You probably won’t even see a shadow of a Demonic Lizardman from start to finish.”

Harvey shook his head and reminded him with a sigh, “Mr. Ferr, don’t forget that once the island’s defenses are successfully destroyed, the soldiers will have to disembark and engage in real ground combat.”

Seeing the atmosphere suddenly grow tense, Stormwalker quickly stepped in to smooth things over. “Before that happens, we will do our best to annihilate the enemy’s Winged ones and clear a safe airspace for the soldiers on the ground.”

He then paused, a somewhat stiff and awkward smile on his face. “Speaking of which… Your Majesty, you haven’t invited us to tour your steel warships yet, nor have you sent anyone to teach us how to pilot the new floating airships, have you?”

Hearing this, the corners of Harvey’s mouth immediately curled up. He decisively changed the subject. “In that case, let’s adjourn today’s military meeting. Since the two Chiefs aren’t present anyway, I’ll take this opportunity to give you all a full tour of the new ship!”

…

Although it had only been a day since their last visit to Warship Harbor, thanks to the incredible efficiency of the shipyard workers and alchemical beasts, the outfitting of the ship’s deck was already complete. By working through the night, the Magical Energy Naval Cannons and ship-mounted Beam Weapons that had arrived early were also fully installed.

When Harvey led the troop of battle mages onto the deck, the sight before them left everyone speechless.

Son of Flame, completely disregarding his image, walked to the ship’s rail, raised a hand, and tapped it lightly, hearing the expected clang, clang, clang of metal in return.

“Whoa! Not just the hull, even the railings are made of steel… Just how much refined steel did you use to build such a terrifying behemoth? How much does it weigh? Why can it float so easily on the water?”

It was actually less than five thousand tons… but this world had no such unit of measurement. Their common systems of weight had not developed a term to describe such a mass, much like how in his previous life, most people could only use words like “trillion” to express an extreme quantity.

Harvey could only smile and bluff, “Its exact weight isn’t important. All you need to know is that not only can it float easily, but it can also travel at a speed nearly five times faster than a traditional sailing ship.”

“It doesn’t sink, and it can sail across the water at high speed…” The more Son of Flame thought about it, the more absurd it seemed. He immediately prepared to leap into the air and dive into the water to get to the bottom of it.

Who would have thought Harvey would be even faster? He instantly activated Mage Hand, grabbing Ferr by the robe. Not knowing whether to laugh or cry, he said, “Mr. Ferr, I assure you… there are absolutely no magical formations inscribed on the bottom of the hull. This ship… was truly and completely forged by mortal artisans.”

Stormwalker, looking embarrassed, came forward to change the subject again. “The ship’s source of power for navigation, like the floating airships… it relies on the magical-powered cores Your Majesty developed, correct?”

Harvey nodded. “Correct. The only difference is the number installed. To reduce weight, an airship usually only carries a single core for power, so its round-trip range must be strictly calculated for every mission.”

The Shallow-Water Gunboat, on the other hand, thanks to its superior cargo capacity, was equipped with four power cores and could also carry enough liquid magical energy to support a long ocean voyage.

“Since more cores mean more speed, why not install a few more? A ship this huge… I think it could easily carry ten… no, even more! At that point, this giant steel fortress might even be able to fly just above the water’s surface!”

Seeing Son of Flame get more and more excited, Harvey once again rolled his eyes helplessly. He put an arm around the man’s shoulder and explained in a low voice, “My friend, this is where I have to explain to you… the principles of how the magical-powered core’s cooling system works, as well as the risks of overheating, system shutdowns, or even a core explosion.”

Chapter 584: The Assembly Call

With a bulging briefcase tucked under his arm, Dave pushed open the door of the Officers’ Club with one hand.

The entire hall was abuzz with noise. Throngs of junior officers, off-duty and on leave, were gathered in small groups around circular tables, cheerfully playing cards.

“Dave! Over here!” Benny stood up from a card table in the corner, waving to his fellow townsman and old friend.

Panting, Dave squeezed through the crowd and plopped down in a seat opposite him, frowning. “Did you just come from the Military Barracks? Why haven’t you changed out of your uniform?”

Benny grinned. “What? Worked at City Hall for so long you’ve picked up some bureaucratic airs?”

With that, he raised his left hand and, with a wink, made a gesture of rubbing his thumb and index finger together, urging, “Hurry up and give me the good stuff you brought!”

Dave rolled his eyes and pulled a long paper-wrapped package from his briefcase, handing it to his old friend. He started to nag, “I took out my entire share for the month. You should smoke less, this stuff is bad for you.”

Benny paid him no mind. He held the package to his nose and took a deep breath through the paper, smiling. “Menthol cigarettes are great, it’s a shame you don’t appreciate them… They’re a cut above the toasted cigarettes the army issues, and they’re better at clearing your head. For soldiers on night patrol or out on a mission, they’re the real hard currency!”

“Tsk… I knew you wouldn’t listen. The infirmary has seen a lot of patients with coughs lately. They’ve all had the vaccine, but they aren’t getting any better. The physicians suspect it’s from smoking too many cigarettes. The highest rates of these symptoms are in the army and the factories.”

Benny fiddled with his cuffs, about to say something… when the alchemical loudspeakers hanging in the corner of the club suddenly blared. The mournful, urgent blast of a horn sent all the soldiers in the hall scrambling to their feet.

“Not good, that’s the emergency assembly call!” Benny quickly pulled a folded slip of paper from his uniform pocket, stuffed it into Dave’s hand, and rushed toward the door.

In less than half a minute, the entire club hall was empty save for Dave and a few waiters, who all stared at each other. Only then did he come to his senses and unfold the piece of paper.

On it was a string of crookedly scrawled numbers—Benny’s registered bank account.

…

“All units, listen up! The Northern Army’s First Independent Regiment… First, Second, and Third Battalions are all mobilized!”

“Operation Handle: Bear Hunt.”

“Security Classification: Confidential.”

“Assembly time: three hours. Assemble at Warship Harbor on the east coast, fully equipped and on standby, ready to move out at any time!”

The Commander stood on a high platform, giving the assembly orders concisely. After being dismissed, the junior non-commissioned officers below received their own mission checklists from their direct superiors.

Benny clutched his deployment order tightly and hurried back to the battalion headquarters… The soldiers had already been notified and had assembled in formation in just half an hour.

Times had changed. When faced with an emergency military mission, the common soldiers no longer needed to worry about weapons, ammunition, or logistical supplies… Once the assembly call sounded, it meant the Logistics Department had already made thorough preparations. All they had to do was collect their combat weapons within the specified time, check their personal ammunition, medical kits, and the three-day emergency rations sufficient for field operations.

The rest of the supplies had probably already been loaded onto the ships yesterday, just waiting for the fully-equipped soldiers to arrive before the entire army could set out!

The army’s deployment and movements generally didn’t pass directly through the city. This was partly to prevent stirring up discussion among the city’s populace and the spread of gossip and rumors, and partly because the large number of troops and military wheeled vehicles made travel through the relatively narrow streets inconvenient.

By the time the last assembled unit arrived at Warship Harbor, the sun was already dipping toward the west. The red orb of the warm spring sun hung high above the distant mountaintops, reflecting a dazzling golden light off the steel-forged shallow-water gunboats.

“Captain, is this the legendary Shallow-Water Gunboat? It’s magnificent! It’s more than a size larger than a standard military ironclad ship!” the new recruits murmured, standing on the docks and gazing up at the colossal ship moored nearby.

Benny, too, was struck with awe, but he maintained his captain’s authority and frowned. “Quiet! No talking in the ranks!”

When it was finally his Company’s turn to formally board, the young officer couldn’t help but let his mouth fall slightly agape… This was no ordinary massive ironclad ship; it was practically a mobile fortress on water.

Four anti-aircraft beam cannons fixed on pivots at the bow and stern, four large-caliber naval guns arranged in parallel on both sides of the mid-ship, Magical Energy Machine Gun arrays mounted on the port and starboard sides… behind the observation tower, there was even a small landing platform large enough to accommodate three floating Airships.

The bridge, located in the mid-aft section of the ship, was fully enclosed. Standing on the deck, you could feel a faint vibration from below… without a doubt, the magical-powered power core in the engine room was in its activation and warm-up phase.

A naval officer with the rank of ensign pinned to his chest hurried over, holding a roll call list. “Second Battalion, Third Company, Captain Benny,” he shouted, “report to lower deck, cabin number two, and await orders.”

Benny paused for a moment, then asked woodenly, “Sir, when do we officially depart…?”

“In half an hour!”

…

As the sun set, at the military Airship landing field behind the barracks.

Harvey stood in the center with a squad of his personal guard, instructing the powerfully built Fire Mage, Fell Hoden. “Mr. Ferr, you must follow instructions. The key to this battle… lies in whether your Airship squadron can successfully draw the attention of the enemy’s air power.”

The Son of Flame waved his hand impatiently. “Alright, alright, Mr. Harvey, Your Majesty! You’ve been nagging in my ear for an hour already. Have the ground troops boarded and set sail?”

Harvey pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at it, replying with a resigned sigh, “They departed three hours ago.”

“Compared to the speed of the Airships, the warships move much more slowly in the river channels. So, after you arrive at the designated assembly point one hundred li from a Great Bear Lake, you must not, under any circumstances, spook the target. Wait patiently for the ground troops to arrive and rendezvous.”

Before he could finish, the Son of Flame was already reciting the rest of the plan from memory. “After rendezvousing with the ground forces, the advance troops will force a march under the cover of night to the south side of Great Bear Lake, set up a defensive line to intercept the enemy, and after all preparations are complete… only then can the Airship squadron ascend and approach the Floating Island to fire the first shot of the luring operation with your Beam Weapons!”

Harvey nodded with a wry smile and added, “Please, do not break off from the main force and act alone. This isn’t a decapitation strike. Our ultimate goal is to completely crush the enemy, to destroy their Floating Island as much as possible, and to annihilate their effective strength.”

Ferr pursed his lips and chuckled. “Of course, I understand. This way, we can also compete with the ground forces on kill counts and see who the real combat aces are!”

With that, he couldn’t help but rub his hands together, muttering, “Colonel Vaughn… Hmph, I hope he doesn’t disappoint me.”

Chapter 585: Seizing the Initiative

Three hundred and seventy-five kilometers northwest of the capital, on the outskirts of the Great Bear Lake marsh region, lay Heron Forest.

The advance reconnaissance squad had named this area in the heart of the barren lands as such because of the extremely large local population of water birds.

The night was deep, and a heavy dew had soaked the already damp ground, making it even softer. Every step sank them up to their insteps, slowing the soldiers’ march to a crawl.

Benny gritted his teeth and pulled his legs out of the mud. He turned to the soldiers behind him, raised his arm, and waved it forward in a gesture to keep moving.

The moonlight was almost completely blocked by the dense canopy overhead, but they didn’t dare use any lighting equipment—the reason, of course, was the sound of beating wings cutting through the air that echoed overhead from time to time. It was the sound of scattered Winged ones patrolling the area at night.

The Second Battalion’s mission was to establish a defensive line within five kilometers of the enemy’s Floating Island, cutting it off laterally and securely blocking the main exit from Great Bear Lake to the Icefield River. Once the portable cannons and machine gun arrays were set up, they would have the upper hand, at least against the enemy’s ground attacks.

But pulling off a defensive line right under the noses of the Demonic Lizardmen was not as simple as it sounded.

The non-human enemies on Floating Island Number 3 were extremely active. Not only had they burned the areas along the lakeshore, creating a wide-open field of view for several kilometers around the Floating Island that made it impossible to hide, but the Winged ones had also taken on the task of aerial patrol, scouting more than five kilometers out.

Therefore, to avoid being discovered, the Second Battalion, acting as the advance party, had to completely forgo the aid of alchemical beasts. They had to cross Heron Forest entirely on foot, carrying all ammunition, supplies, and military equipment by hand.

Lower-ranking officers like Benny led by example, carrying a load of nearly thirty kilograms and leading the way at the very front.

Seeing battalion commander Newman’s slightly hunched figure, Benny shook his head, reached out to unclip an external ammunition belt from the commander’s pack, and slung it over his own tactical belt.

The battalion commander’s body relaxed, and he instinctively turned to look at his young subordinate, frowning with a reproachful expression, but he didn’t say anything to scold him. During a silent march, soldiers were strictly forbidden from making any noise other than what was necessary for movement, let alone speaking freely. Even the magical energy weapons in their hands had to have their pre-fire mode completely turned off to prevent the Winged Demonic Lizardmen from detecting any mana fluctuations.

When dawn finally broke, the troops finally reached their designated location after a grueling march. After the officer gave the order to rest and prepare to set up the line, the soldiers, who had been silent all night, slumped against tree trunks, their suppressed gasps rising and falling.

A new recruit who had collapsed next to Benny subconsciously rubbed his aching feet. He was about to loosen his tightly bound leg wrappings when Benny brusquely pushed his arm away, stopping him with a serious expression.

Although the medics had repeatedly mentioned it to the soldiers, it was a piece of battlefield wisdom that only veterans tended to take seriously. Immediately unwrapping one’s leggings after a long, strenuous march would cause the already engorged legs to ache intensely, and in severe cases, could even cause a soldier to faint from the shock.

Seeing that the order for silence had been lifted, Benny leaned in close to the new recruit’s ear and chided him in a low voice, “Don’t be a fool if you don’t want to ruin your legs. Wait fifteen minutes before you loosen those wraps!”

The stunned new recruit quickly obeyed, taking the canteen from his hip and gulping down the specially prepared sugar-and-salt water.

…

Several parallel, T-shaped trenches were quickly dug with vigorous swings of entrenching tools. By the time the sun had fully risen above the treetops, the sound of a forced march was heard from the rear once more.

The Bloodline Warriors of the Special Operations Squad had arrived. Seeing the massive, half-man-high ammunition boxes these transcendent beings carried on their backs, all the soldiers couldn’t help but be secretly astonished.

Just from the depth the ammo boxes sank into the ground when they were set down, it was clear these supplies weighed at least a hundred kilograms each. On top of that, the Bloodline Warriors also had to carry heavy weapons like portable cannons. Even though they had set out almost four hours after the advance battalion, they had arrived less than two hours behind them.

“Captain Wolf Head! What are the latest orders from the fleet command in the rear?”

Wolf Head pulled the disassembled parts of his gun from his holster. As he deftly assembled it, he said in a low voice, “Hold your position. The Airship squadron will arrive in two hours. We just have to wait for them to draw the enemy to us. They’ll handle the ones in the sky, and we’ll take care of the ones on the ground.”

Newman nodded and pointed to the unfurled tactical map. “In this area, around the lake pass, our defensive line is the only place where a large enemy force can easily break through. If we concentrate our forces in the hundred-meter-long section of trenches and lay down enough suppressive fire, I guarantee not a single enemy will get past here.”

With that, he pointed to a messy slope of scree about two hundred and fifty meters to the left. He frowned and added a word of caution, “But there’s also a mountain stream valley here that could bypass our defensive line and lead straight to our rear. Do you think we should send someone in advance…”

“To blast the valley entrance shut?” Wolf Head raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “That would cause too much of a commotion, and we didn’t bring any heavy explosives. Shells are precious; we can’t waste them on blowing up a mountainside.”

He called over his deputy leader, Spider, and gave a decisive order, “Take twenty Spec Ops members over there. Hold the critical point in that valley and block the entrance tight.”

Spider nodded and turned to gather his men.

“Can twenty transcendent soldiers from the Spec Ops squad hold it? Captain… we only have five hundred soldiers, plus the fifty-something Bloodline Warriors you brought. The enemy numbers nearly ten thousand!”

Wolf Head narrowed his eyes and waved his hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry. We brought the explosive bolt guns His Majesty custom-made for us. In a narrow valley like that… Hmph, they couldn’t squeeze through even if they piled it high with their own corpses.”

Hearing this, the low-ranking officers gathered nearby all showed looks of envy. To think that the explosive bolt guns, rumored to still be in the experimental research and development phase, were already being used by the Bloodline Warriors.

…

Son of Flame and Commander Vaughn stood side by side on the bridge, both gazing at the dozens of floating Airships on the riverbank, ready for departure.

“The ammunition needed for the Beam Weapons is also the fuel required for the Airships. No matter how the battle goes, you must consider a safe return. A forced landing in the middle of the enemy’s formation is a choice with no chance of survival.”

Not all the battle mages sent by the Federation this time are high-rank Spellcasters capable of independent flight. If an Airship is damaged in battle, the Mages will inevitably face the danger of a forced landing or a crash, which is almost always fatal.

The Fire Mage chuckled softly and said lightly, “Colonel, what we went through in Blackstone City was no less daunting than this. Spellcasters are not selfish cowards who cling to life. Casualties on the battlefield are normal. In that respect, we are no different from ordinary soldiers.”

Vaughn gave Ferr a somewhat surprised look and said in a serious tone, “His Majesty does indeed treat Spellcasters and ordinary soldiers equally, but I still hope that while you ensure the mission’s completion, you will also look after your own safety…”

He paused, recalling Harvey’s earnest instructions, and added, “Especially you, Mr. Ferr… His Majesty personally instructed me to remind you, repeatedly… not to get… uh, carried away in the heat of an unusually intense battle!”

Chapter 586: Medium-Range Bombardment

The Son of Flame ascended slowly with the Airship he was riding, looking down at the two enormous steel behemoths below and the busy soldiers on their decks.

This was not his first time fighting alongside mortals. Back in his early twenties, as one of the most outstanding junior battle mages, he had followed his seniors from the Federation to Blackstone City to charge into the fray on the bloody battlefields against the Demons.

The alliances of the nations of the south were not lacking in Spellcasters from wizard families. They would often bring vast numbers of squires to join the battle… Those weak mortal soldiers were not foolish; the moment they arrived at the Evil Moon Mountain Range, they knew full well the miserable fate that awaited them.

Out of fear of death and a sense of self-abandonment, these mortals would indulge in hedonistic revelry before battle, falling into a complete frenzy until the fighting officially began… The Alchemical Exploration Society would even distribute some cheap, short-acting frenzy potions to them so they wouldn’t be too scared to even hold their swords when facing the Demons.

But here, what Ferr felt was a completely different scene.

The professionalism these mortal soldiers displayed in their tactics and strategies, along with their jaw-dropping discipline… He had no doubt that every single low-ranking soldier here could serve as a commander of a small cavalry detachment under the noble lords of the nations of the south.

They needed no incitement or temptation, no customary pre-departure rewards, and certainly no military law officers cracking whips to coerce them… Everyone knew what they were supposed to do. Even while on standby, they were never idle, instead focusing on cleaning and calibrating the weapons in their hands.

“Mr. Ferr… crackle… Ferr… hiss… Mr., do you… copy… respond!”

Colonel Vaughn’s voice came through the floating Airship’s alchemical communication device, signaling the end of radio silence and the official start of the operation.

The Son of Flame pressed the button on the communication device and said in a deep voice, “Acknowledged! We have just passed the defensive line at the lakeside pass and are about to reach Great Bear Lake!”

Before a reply came through, a battle mage riding with Ferr suddenly pointed northwest and exclaimed, “Leader Huodeng! Look!”

Several kilometers ahead, a vast, boundless lake came into view, like a giant silver mirror suddenly embedded in the dark green barren lands—a bizarrely magnificent sight.

Even more shocking was a huge, hill-shaped island that abruptly rose from the center of the lake, looking completely out of place with its surroundings. The Floating Island’s surface was craggy and towering, covered in dark black, moss-like growths. The part visible above the water alone was as colossal as Harvey’s castle in Starfire City.

Ferr squinted at it for a moment and murmured, “Incredible. To think they could control such a massive Floating Island and navigate it all the way here through the underground rivers of the abyss.”

Just then, Vaughn’s order finally came through the communication device. “All airship squadrons, pay attention. The decoy plan begins now!”

Thirty Airships at full speed lowered their altitude and velocity, diving diagonally straight toward Great Bear Lake… Before they were even within a kilometer of the Floating Island, they were immediately spotted by the large number of enemies active on the lakeshore.

Crystalline spears of condensed black water were launched into the sky like rain, but they couldn’t even reach the undersides of the Airships. A few Spellcasters casually tossed several area-of-effect attack spells toward the ground, sending many Demonic Lizardmen into chaos… only to watch them get back on their feet a moment later.

“That disgusting hide of theirs really does have extremely high magic resistance!”

Ferr let out a sinister laugh, grabbed a Magical Energy Gun from the weapon rack, and loaded and aimed it in just three seconds. With a single shot, he shattered the crystalline faceplate on an enemy’s head on the ground, then watched with satisfaction as it slowly collapsed, as if rotting away from the inside.

“Inform everyone to conserve their mana reserves. Use the Magical Energy Guns to engage the enemy at will… We’ll try to make a big enough disturbance here on the shore to draw out the Winged ones from the Floating Island.”

This way, they wouldn’t have to take the immense risk of approaching the Floating Island and facing its anti-air black water spray.

The battle mages were already experts with the Gun of Annihilation, so their marksmanship with the Magical Energy Guns was naturally just as good. Sporadic gunshots rang out from the Airships, and the Demonic Lizardmen gathered on the ground were picked off one by one, toppling over as if their names had been called.

After a few minutes, the nearby Floating Island finally reacted… The battle mages watched as a huge, flower-shaped opening suddenly split open at its peak. A dense, dark cloud then poured out, rushing straight for the shore.

Only when it drew closer did they realize that the dark cloud was actually a swarm of countless Winged ones, packed tightly together. They swarmed forward like a horde of flies, the sound of their fleshy wings vibrating intensely and rubbing against each other was exceptionally jarring.

“All units, fall back! Retreat toward the defensive line immediately, full speed!” Ferr grabbed the communication device and issued the order the very next second. Almost simultaneously, a few Airships at the rear began to counterattack with their Beam Weapons.

A group of Winged ones leading the charge immediately slammed into the web of death woven by the scattered beams, turning into a shower of minced flesh and pieces of corpse that rained down on the ground… But in just those few moments of delay, the three Airships that had counterattacked first were swiftly surrounded by the enemy.

The Winged ones were clearly aware of how powerful the Beam Weapons were. They scattered, nimbly dodging while constantly circling the Gondolas’ blind spots, unleashing black water and red light at the Spellcasters inside.

Fortunately, they didn’t understand how the Airships worked and didn’t immediately turn their attention to the inflated Gasbags. Otherwise, the besieged Mages would have already crashed.

More of the Winged ones bypassed the trapped Airships and continued their pursuit of the main force not far ahead.

Several high-level casters could no longer hold back and used flight spells to return to the rescue… The battle tradition of the Mage Corps was one of unified advance and mutual support; abandonment and betrayal were absolutely forbidden.

The Son of Flame kept looking back, repeatedly suppressing the urge to return to the rescue and engage the enemy in close combat. As the one in charge of the decoy plan, he had to lead the Airship squadron and lure the main host of Winged ones to the designated ambush point, where they would coordinate with ground troops to annihilate them completely.

Just then, a thunderous sound faintly echoed from the distant horizon. He looked up, but the rolling clouds and sunlight overhead remained unchanged… It wasn’t a weather phenomenon.

But the thunderous sound grew closer. Ferr’s ears belatedly caught a piercing shriek tearing through the air. Then, a massive crimson fireball erupted on the distant lakeshore. The ground suddenly rippled outward from the center of the explosion like a tide, and the resulting shockwave, carrying dirt and debris, plowed through an area of several hundred meters.

Ferr winced and closed his eyes.

The Magical Energy Naval Cannon had missed… It was all Vaughn’s fault, that damned coward, only daring to fire at the Floating Island from five kilometers away. If they had been as brave and fearless as the battle mages he led, they would have already blasted the enemy’s Floating Island fortress to smithereens…

Before he could collect his thoughts, the second thunderclap arrived in an instant.

A colossal splash erupted on the lake to the left of the Floating Island. It had obviously missed again.

Then, the entire sky instantly erupted. The shrieks of one shell after another tore through the air, and like a perfect game of ring toss… they landed squarely on the Floating Island in the center of the lake.

Chapter 587: Interception (Part 1)

A beam of red light as thick as an arm grazed the edge of the gondola. The immense energy fluctuation nearly threw the Airship off balance, and the mid-rank Mage piloting it had to pull back on the control stick, making the vehicle, which had been hovering before the interception line, rapidly gain altitude.

The other three Spellcasters quickly turned the firing cranks of the beam cannon, decisively returning fire on the enemies several hundred meters away.

A deafening roar echoed nearby. Another Airship was unfortunately struck by a concentrated beam of red light from the Winged ones. Its segmented gasbag was pierced from front to back, and unable to stay aloft, it plunged headfirst toward the ground.

More and more high-level Mages rushed out from their respective Airships, doing their utmost amidst the chaos of battle to rescue their comrades from the “crashed” vehicle.

The restless, surging fire-elemental magical energy within him made it difficult for Fell Hoden to calm his emotions. After emptying another magazine from his Magical Energy Gun, he finally couldn’t hold back and burst out of the Airship. He transformed into a blazing streak of fire… charging straight for the enemy swarm.

The Stormwalker’s shouts reached his ears, but he paid them no mind.

The flame sigil on his robe burst forth with a blinding light. The piercing shriek of his high-speed flight tore across the battlefield. The moment he closed in on the enemy swarm… Ferr, in a daze, thought he could see through their crystalline faceplates to a single, enormous crimson eye hidden behind.

Boom—

A clap of thunder like a sonic boom was followed by a continuous series of crackling impacts. Under the overwhelming power of the eighth-circle modified spell, “Blazing Assault,” the battle formation of several hundred Winged ones was pierced straight through by the Fire Mage, single-handedly, like a knife through soft butter.

A shield of blazing fire clung tightly to the Son of Flame, ensuring that any enemy who met him head-on paid the gruesome price of broken bones and torn sinews. Even the unlucky ones who were merely grazed by his passage… had their bodies instantly burst into flames, falling to the ground as festering, charred corpses.

The flames seemed to ignite on contact; once lit, they could never be extinguished.

By the time Fell Hoden had smashed through the enemy’s aerial phalanx in a single charge and reached their rear near the lake’s surface… his nerves, which had just calmed slightly from the fight, immediately grew tense once more.

The Floating Island in the water, which looked as though it had been half-obliterated by the Magical Energy Naval Cannons, had, at some unknown point, opened up countless new pores and fissures on its surface. More Winged ones poured out from within, one wave after another.

A quick glance revealed their numbers to be over one thousand.

“Dammit! Weren’t Floating Island fortresses of this scale only supposed to carry a maximum of ten thousand enemy combat units?” the Son of Flame cursed through gritted teeth. “How can there be so many Winged ones?”

The sound of several explosions echoed from the ground far behind him. He instinctively turned to look and realized the soldiers on the interception line had detonated the remaining ammunition in the first forward trench. They were now retreating slowly toward the second preset defensive line along pre-dug, T-shaped trenches.

This is bad… The number of Demonic Lizardmen on the ground was also considerable. The mortal soldiers’ suppressive fire couldn’t completely contain them, and the lakeside pass was showing signs that it couldn’t be held.

A figure flew to the Fire Mage’s side in an instant. It was the Stormwalker, who had just tried to stop him.

Ferr pursed his lips and sneered, “What? Finally couldn’t hold back anymore? Decided to come out for some close-quarters combat?”

The Stormwalker ignored the jibe, his brow furrowed. “The ground troops can’t suppress the enemy assault because we can’t keep these disgusting flying insects tied down! It gives them chances to cast their concentrated lightning at the ground!”

Though he hated to admit it, the Son of Flame sighed softly and recomposed himself. “We can still salvage this. The remaining Airships are holding back the first wave of Winged ones in front of the line. Gather all the high-ranks here. We… We’ll be responsible for stopping the second wave of vermin coming out of the Floating Island!”

The Machine Gun Squads fired without pause, the roar of their guns echoing through the trenches. The swarming Demonic Lizardmen were cut down like wheat in swathes, but the enemies surging up behind them showed no fear, continuing to advance slowly in an extremely dense formation.

Black water javelins and red-light lightning flew over from time to time, forcing the soldiers to stop firing and duck into the trenches to take cover.

A beam of red light slammed into the edge of the trench, blasting apart the earthen parapet. A shower of mud and sand poured right into Benny’s mouth just as he raised his head to shout a command.

“Ptooey! Ptooey! Ugh—” Benny coughed violently, ducking his head and spitting a mouthful onto the ground. “Volley! Three volleys! Cover the Machine Gun Squads while they reload!”

At his command, the soldiers rose, leaning over the trench and roaring as they emptied their magazines, mowing down dozens of enemies who had broken from their formation and charged to within fifty meters of the line.

“There are too many! Captain! There are just too many!” a new recruit yelled at Benny, his voice trembling as he reloaded. “We’re only a single battalion! How are we supposed to hold them back?”

Smack—

Benny smacked the new recruit across the forehead. “What bullshit is that!” he cursed. “Focus on shooting! Aim for their heads and give ’em hell! When this is all over, if I find you’ve got a single round left in your ammo box, I’m gonna shove them all up your ass, one by one!”

As he spoke, a whistling sound tore through the air from behind them. The Portable Cannons positioned on the third defensive line had begun to fire.

One shell landed squarely in the midst of the enemy, tearing the tightly packed Demonic Lizardmen into a spray of mangled flesh and blood. Amidst the chaos, Benny even saw a shattered crystalline faceplate arc through the air and plant itself in the mud less than twenty meters from their trench.

A few more shells detonated, throwing more enemies into utter chaos. The air filled with the thick stench of rust and blood, a smell so strong it made the soldiers wrinkle their noses, even from dozens of meters away.

The relentless artillery barrage, accompanied by the renewed chatter of machine guns, seemed to turn the short fifty-meter distance into an impassable line of death. The enemies crammed into the mouth of the lakeside pass couldn’t advance a single step.

A heavy ammunition box landed at Benny’s feet, kicked there by someone just as his own supply was about to run out. He turned to look and saw his battalion commander, Newman, grinning at him, his face covered in blood.

“Battalion commander! Are you injured?”

“Some unlucky soldier got his head split open by a javelin fragment, and I got a face full of his blood!” Newman didn’t elaborate, instead ordering in a low voice, “Keep firing! Their assault has clearly slowed!”

“Yes, Sir!” Benny turned back around, gripped his weapon, and was about to resume fighting when several dazzling lights suddenly streaked across the sky overhead.

When he instinctively looked up to get a clear view, his breath caught in his throat.

“It’s the Winged ones! They’re attacking!” he roared, using every ounce of his strength to warn the soldiers around him. “Take cover! Take cover! Get down in the trench!”

But the expected explosions never came. Instead, chaos and screams erupted from behind them.

“Dammit! It’s the artillery position!” one of the soldiers shouted as he looked back.

Benny’s head snapped around. He saw that most of the Portable Cannons had indeed gone silent, and the enemy ahead was pushing forward with renewed speed!

“Fall back! Abandon the first line! All units, retreat! Protect the artillery crews!” The battalion commander’s order rang in his ears.

Chapter 588: Holding Action (Part 2)

Having retreated to the second defensive line, Benny instinctively looked back, his heart sinking. The artillery position set up behind the line was a wreck. The Winged ones’ concentrated lightning had struck with a pinpoint, almost lock-on, accuracy, peppering the ground with craters.

In the most heavily damaged area, a lightning strike on an ammunition box had triggered a secondary explosion, snapping two thick trees on the side of the position in half. Smoke and dust from the flames filled the air. Many people lay motionless on the ground, and he could faintly hear the agonizing cries and moans of the wounded.

“Don’t stop firing! Get back to your positions! We can’t let them reach the trenches!”

Battalion Commander Newman’s hoarse roar rang out again. Benny gritted his teeth, forcing himself not to worry about his wounded comrades in the rear. He regrouped his squad and once again opened fire on the slowly advancing enemy.

A tangle of figures plummeted from the sky, crashing through the dense canopy and slamming into the ground in front of the trenches. Looking closely, it was a battle mage locked in a struggle with three Winged ones clinging tightly to him. The long fall had shattered the bones of the enemy pinned beneath the spellcaster. Seizing the opportunity, Benny fired a single, clean shot at the one strangling the mage’s neck with its arms, silently blowing the top of its skull off.

The battle mage kicked away the lifeless enemy and staggered to his feet, disheveled. He gave a thumbs-up to the soldiers in the trench, but then Benny got a clear look at his face… The skin visible outside his robe was as hard and uneven as rock, making him look as terrifying as a cold stone statue. There were even spiderweb-like cracks on his neck and shoulders, showing that the fall had taken its toll on him as well.

An earth mage… Benny recalled what he had learned in the officer’s culture class, murmuring the thought to himself.

The battle had lasted for nearly an hour, and the Demonic Lizardmen had clearly realized that the greatest threat to them were the long-range weapons firing continuously from the distant horizon. No matter how large the Floating Island was or how sturdy its shell, it couldn’t withstand such an endless bombardment.

These soldiers, stubbornly defending the lakeside pass, only confirmed their suspicions that the terrifying long-range weapons were hidden behind them. If they could just concentrate all their forces and break through the line, they could halt the humans’ long-range assault… Destroying the powerful weapons on which they relied would completely shatter their will to fight.

Thus, many of the Winged ones abandoned their aerial dogfights and dove straight for the defensive line hidden in the dense forest, intending to use their air superiority to help their companions on the ground break through.

Their primary targets were, naturally, the artillerymen behind the regular soldiers, the ones operating those strange, thick iron tubes… Once fired, those things would land among their own ranks, causing violent explosions and numerous casualties among their kin.

A Winged one had just landed and instantly materialized a crystal shield, deflecting a bullet fired from the side. Its attacker was an ordinary human soldier… These fellows who wielded iron-tube weapons were more terrifying to them than the spellcasters. Given the chance, they had to be killed in one blow.

So, raising its shield with one hand, it gathered a charged red-light lightning bolt in the other and hurled it at the soldier.

A thick metal armor plate suddenly flew in at an angle, landing right in front of the despairing soldier. The red light struck the plate, blasting it to pieces… but its own momentum was greatly reduced, giving the target an opening to Froll away.

Before the Winged one could react, a cold, gleaming light, accompanied by a sharp whoosh, stabbed toward its ribs… It quickly solidified black water in its palm, reaching down to grab its opponent’s weapon. It twisted its body, preparing to return fire with a bolt of red light, only to turn and find the dark muzzle of a gun pointed at its face.

Bang!

The Winged one, its head completely blown apart, stood rigid for a moment before crashing heavily to the ground.

Wolf Head raised his gun barrel, blew on it, and grinned at the battle mage behind him who had just finished preparing a spell. “No need for the incantation, Mr. Mage. I’ve already taken care of the enemy.”

The spellcaster, slightly embarrassed, reined in his mana. He walked over and asked curiously, “That’s not a revolver, nor is it a standard-issue Magical Energy Gun… Is it a custom weapon made for His Majesty the Emperor’s bloodline squires?”

“Heh heh, you’ve got a good eye… This is an explosive bolt gun. Triple the power, triple the caliber… Of course, the price is triple the weight. Regular soldiers can’t carry it. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say His Majesty had it tailor-made for us.”

The battle mage nodded, a hint of envy on his face. He then looked up at the sky and frowned. “The decoy plan has lost its effect. They’re starting to notice the gunships in the rear area and are planning to mass their forces to break our line.”

Wolf Head also watched intently for a moment before saying in a low voice, “No matter. We’ve bought the gunships nearly an hour of bombardment time. The part of Floating Island Number 3 above the water has been almost completely sheared off. The results are fully in line with expectations…”

As for these fiends who pursued them from the Floating Island, only to have their nest wiped out halfway… let the Northern Army give them a proper positional battle.

…

A dark golden light glowed in Fell Hoden’s left eye as his hands manipulated a giant fire serpent tens of meters long. This magical creature, formed purely from elemental fire mana, seemed to come alive, coiling around dozens of Winged ones and trapping them in mid-air.

The enemies trapped within the serpent’s coils had not given up. From time to time, several beams of red light shot out from the fiery curtain, striking toward the spot where the Son of Flame hovered… He was able to divert his attention and dodge most of them, but a few red beams struck his body directly.

A high-circle flame shield, combined with his magically enhanced flesh-and-blood body, allowed him to withstand several direct hits. Though the faltering shield looked as if it would shatter at any moment, the Stormwalker fighting alongside him would always, at the critical moment, land a sudden, precise, and deadly ice spike on an enemy.

As the giant fire serpent gradually tightened its encirclement, the enemies within were either burned to death by the inextinguishable elemental flames that clung to them or pierced through their hides by a surprise attack.

Enemies continuously plummeted from the sky, but more of the Winged ones chose to cautiously fly around them, heading straight for the rear without a backward glance.

Trying to intercept over a thousand winged enemies in the air with just ten high-rank battle mages was, frankly, too difficult.

The Demonic Lizardmen’s extremely high magic resistance talent against the spellcasters’ flexible and bizarre magical attacks was like an unsolvable paradox of mutual counters… In the short term, neither side could do much to the other.

“Aside from ice and fire magic, most other high-rank attack methods are nullified by them. The ten of us alone can’t possibly stop these monsters.” The Stormwalker waved his hand, unleashing a frost tornado that sent a charging Winged one flying far into the distance. “Let’s fall back too. Back to the defensive positions the soldiers have set up. We’ll fight alongside them!”

Fell did not answer immediately, but listened intently for a moment… The shelling from the heavy gunships seemed to have stopped for now. But Vaughn had informed him beforehand that after each round of bombardment, they needed to reserve about ten minutes for the ship cannons to cool down to prevent barrel explosions. Therefore, they had to withstand the enemy’s intensified assault during this gap in the shelling.

This was when the portable cannons set up behind the defensive line should be doing their part…

Wait! It seemed he hadn’t heard the cannons fire in a long time!

Chapter 589: Reinforcements

“Zzz—Commander—zzz—calling for gunship support—zzz—”

The alchemical communicator in the command room intermittently received distress signals from the front lines. The frequent energy interference indicated that the advance battalion’s defensive line was under a fierce assault from the enemy.

Vaughn’s face was grim. He stood without a word, his eyes fixed on the busy soldiers on the deck.

“How much longer until the gunship cannons cool down?”

The adjutant replied with a serious expression, “Sir, we can begin the second round of bombardment in three minutes at the earliest!”

The Communications Officer took off his headset and turned to report, “Commander, besides the call for artillery support, the advance battalion is also requesting reinforcements! The Demonic Lizardmen on Floating Island Number 3 are far more numerous than we anticipated. The airship squadron’s decoy plan wasn’t entirely effective… It seems the enemy has figured out our mid-range bombardment strategy.”

And their response, naturally, was to recklessly charge the defensive line, regardless of losses, in an attempt to break through and cut off the source of the Northern Army’s bombardment.

City Hall and the Military Command… they had overestimated the combat strength of Spellcasters against the Demonic Lizardmen. A mere hundred or so battle mages, facing tens of thousands of non-human monsters—no matter how powerful they were individually, a one-sided steamroll was impossible.

A war of invasion launched against humanity by a race where every individual possessed extraordinary abilities was no longer like the previous “regional conflicts” between Humans and Demons, which were merely about resource disputes. Even His Majesty himself… had been misled by the views of the officials from Spellcaster backgrounds, who made up a significant portion of the kingdom’s high command. He still clung to the stereotype that Spellcasters would be the decisive force in this great war.

No! I shouldn’t be questioning His Majesty’s decision like this!

Vaughn shook his head in frustration, suppressing the doubts buried deep in his heart once more. He reached into his coat… and his fingers touched something with a smooth but unusually hard surface.

Before the expedition, His Majesty had summoned him alone to the castle and personally handed him a “Soul Crystal.”

Vaughn had no idea where this thing came from, and His Majesty had never brought it up in front of anyone else… only saying that it was the result of his current private research, which had not yet been officially announced.

As for its specific effect, His Majesty had only offered a brief explanation.

[When the situation becomes dire, use your bloodline power to activate it. Try to issue commands to the alchemical beasts dormant in the lower levels of the Shallow-Water Gunboat. You can control them to attack the enemy…]

Alchemical beasts dormant in the lower levels?

Vaughn was completely baffled. The Military Command was solely responsible for the Shallow-Water Gunboat’s supplies. The vast majority of the gunship’s bottom hold was completely sealed off, storing large amounts of liquid magical energy required for the vessel’s voyage. Only a few pipelines ran directly into it to draw out the energy for use.

He had never heard anything about alchemical beasts being stored in the bottom compartments.

“Sir! A message from the front line! The Winged ones have launched a surprise attack on the artillery positions behind the defensive line, causing nearly a hundred casualties… They’re requesting the remaining airships be dispatched to transport the wounded back to the gunship!”

The advance battalion holding the defensive line consisted of a mere five hundred men, and the First Battalion, which had set out as reinforcements after dawn, had not yet reached the front.

Aboard the two Shallow-Water Gunboats, besides the two Artillerymen companies responsible for operating the cannons for continuous bombardment, only the Third Battalion remained on guard, constructing a final defensive line on the riverbank.

They did have seven or eight airships in reserve, but those were only for emergency drops of ammunition and supplies to the front.

Vaughn clenched his fists, gritted his teeth, and gave a decisive order. “To the deck with me! Issue a notice to the entire army… I am activating the alchemical beast unit entrusted to me by His Majesty!”

What… what alchemical beast unit? Without an energy-gathering array to transmit power, the liquid magical energy they had in reserve was only enough to propel the gunships. How could there possibly be any surplus to activate alchemical beasts?

The Communications Officer looked bewildered, but he strictly followed the Commander’s orders and quickly relayed the command to all officers and soldiers on both gunships.

…

By the time Vaughn strode onto the deck, all the soldiers on standby, except for the artillerymen who were still diligently firing the gunship cannons at their designated targets, had their eyes fixed on him, their gazes intense.

He took the “Soul Crystal” from his coat—its surface engraved with countless tiny runes, resembling a small magic stone—and, without a moment’s hesitation, infused it with his bloodline power to activate it.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Vaughn found it hard to describe the strange sensation he was feeling. He could clearly hear a heartbeat… but it wasn’t just his own. Deep below the deck, in the very core of the ship’s energy storage hold, it seemed as if countless… countless hearts were beating in sync with his.

The ship suddenly began to vibrate slightly, with an unusually coordinated frequency, as if the magical-powered core in the engine room was overloaded.

Immediately after, a faint, chaotic sound reached Vaughn’s ears, as if tens of thousands of multi-legged insects were rapidly scurrying their limbs, waking from a deep slumber… and converging toward him.

“What the hell is this thing!” an adjutant suddenly cried out, lifting his foot from the deck.

Vaughn looked down and saw a “spider” only the size of a finger crawling out from a gap where the deck met the ship’s rail. A closer look revealed that the creature’s entire body had a strange metallic luster, reflecting a silvery-white color in the sunlight.

It was a “mechanical insect,” cast from metal and assembled together!

Could this be what His Majesty called an alchemical beast? Such a tiny alchemical beast?

Before Vaughn could process it, the sound of limbs scraping against metal grew louder. Many soldiers who had been on standby in the second-level cabins suddenly rushed onto the deck, shouting in a mix of fear and alarm, “There are strange insects in the ship!”

Wait! He thought he understood!

Vaughn tightened his grip on the “Soul Crystal” and closed his eyes again… Instantly, tens of thousands of tiny spider-like insects poured out from the cracks in the deck like a spreading tide. Scurrying on their limbs, they piled over one another, swarming toward the target he had commanded.

The half-orc officer opened his eyes again, but his pupils had turned a strange, solid silver-white.

“I will personally take these alchemical beasts to the advance defensive line as reinforcements…”

…

Harvey looked up from his laboratory table, wearily rubbing his sore, tired eyes… An Energy-devouring beetle crawled out from a crack in the floor. It cautiously poked its head out for a moment, then scurried on its legs up onto the tabletop.

“Alright, I understand…” Harvey suddenly spoke, seemingly muttering to himself in the air, causing the two personal guards at the entrance of the underground laboratory to look at each other in confusion, not daring to interrupt.

He picked up a hot towel hanging from an alchemical beast’s arm to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Harvey let out a long sigh and turned to give an order. “Back to my office with me. Notify the Military Command and City Hall… and the two Chief Excellencies.”

He paused, then added with a somewhat bitter smile, “Tell them… the battle at Great Bear Lake might be getting tight. We need to hold a meeting immediately to consider whether to send emergency reinforcements.”

Chapter 590: Raging Tide

“Reinforcements from the First Battalion have arrived! They’re setting up a new artillery position!”

“The special ops squads are working with the Spellcasters to clear out the Winged ones entrenched in the rear. Everyone, hold the second line of defense!”

Benny struggled to his feet in the trench and spat a mouthful of bloody saliva onto the ground. He subconsciously felt his chest and back, then collapsed in relief, letting out a long breath.

No open wounds, no missing limbs…

Just moments ago, several bolts of concentrated lightning had struck from the sky, landing right near his squad. A red light had enveloped an area dozens of meters wide, including a section of the trench the soldiers were defending.

Several soldiers hit by the lightning’s shockwave had large, charred burns on their bodies from the electrical current. The violent impact had sent shrapnel tearing through a few men’s bodies. Blood and mud mixed, making it impossible to tell at a glance if the wounds were fatal.

The talkative new recruit who had been beside him all this time was now hissing in pain and groaning softly, his head down as he rummaged through the loose soil. A fragment from an exploding ammunition box had sliced clean off half of his palm. The young man was tough; he had immediately pulled out a bandage to tie off the wound, but he was still trying in vain to find his severed limb, hoping a medical alchemical beast could sew it back on.

Benny felt his nose sting, and his eyes reddened. He pushed the recruit down, shouting, “Medic? Get over here! We have wounded!”

The battlefield was thick with smoke, and the winding trenches were long and deep. He had no idea if any medics had noticed the situation over here.

Fortunately, three figures carrying a stretcher soon came jogging down the trench. “Ensign! We’re medics!”

There was already a heavily wounded soldier on the stretcher. He had a clear javelin wound through his abdomen; even a section of his exposed intestine was stained with dirt, clearly having just been hastily stuffed back in by the medic.

Quickly taking out an adhesive paste made from rubber fruit, one of the medics slathered a thick layer over the new recruit’s bleeding stump. The sharp-eyed medic then spotted the severed hand, its white bone exposed, in the dirt. He carefully wrapped it in gauze and tucked it into his coat.

“Can you still walk? Follow me back to the rear medical station, quickly! We might still be able to reattach your hand!”

The three then looked at another wounded man who had fallen nearby, shook their heads, and sighed. “His neck was pierced, too much blood loss… Sorry, Sir, he’s beyond saving.”

Benny wiped the sweat from his face and gave one of them a rough shove. “Get the wounded out of here! Don’t linger!”

Just then, a squad of soldiers with unfamiliar faces rushed over from the opposite direction. They grabbed Benny and yelled, “First Battalion, Fifth Squad, here to reinforce! We’re taking over your position… Please arrange for all wounded to be sent to the rear for treatment!”

As if to confirm the man’s words, the familiar and reassuring shriek of artillery shells once again filled the sky. The second round of bombardment from the Shallow-Water Gunboats had finally begun.

…

Fell Hoden’s entire body was wreathed in blazing flames. He stomped on the shoulder of a Winged one, a savage grin on his face as he brutally tore off its fleshy wings. Then, just as the creature was about to self-destruct in a final, desperate act, he slammed both fists forward, hammering it through the air. It crashed into a thick tree trunk, completely mangled.

Not far away, the Stormwalker was locked in ground combat with three enemies. The red light and black water began to lose their accuracy amidst the freezing tornado kicked up by the frost. Two Bloodline Warriors wielding explosive bolt guns provided cover nearby; finishing off the targets would not be difficult.

Nearly two hours of continuous spellcasting had left the Son of Flame feeling a faint exhaustion. To maximize the damage and kill as many Winged ones as possible, he had been forced to cast several high-circle instant-cast spells in a row, unreservedly consuming the mana stored in his body.

He subconsciously reached for his waist, but his hand found nothing. Only then did he remember that during the high-speed flight and violent collisions of his “Blazing Assault,” all the mana-restoring potions he carried had been shattered. There probably wasn’t a single drop left.

Shaking his head in resignation, he was about to launch himself into the air again to charge at several Winged ones taking potshots from the high treetops. But out of the corner of his eye, he saw a young-faced new recruit suddenly run out of a trench. The soldier scrambled over to a cannon and, with all his might, tried to right the overturned barrel.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed!” The new recruit looked even younger than his own good-for-nothing nephew, Durt. The sight made him pause. He barked in a deep voice, “Get back in the foxhole! No one is to return to the artillery positions until the Winged ones are completely cleared out!”

The new recruit showed no fear in the face of a high-rank Spellcaster. He glanced at the man’s ornate robes and his chest, which was bare of any rank insignia, and saluted. “My lord Mage, you have no authority to command the artillery unit… We need to resume firing immediately to provide fire support for the soldiers on the front line!”

As he spoke, several more soldiers climbed out of the trench and cautiously returned to their posts, beginning to move shells.

The Son of Flame was furious. “Where is your direct superior? Did he just send you out here to die?”

The soldiers continued their work without stopping. Only the first new recruit wiped his nose and said quietly, “Our commanding officer was killed in action! I’m in command of the Second Artillery Squad now!”

The Fire Mage was struck dumb. Just as he was about to shake his head and leave, he heard a whistling sound from above.

He gathered his strength, and with a bang, his flaming fist shattered a black water javelin in mid-air. The fractured pieces of black crystal scattered in every direction.

He looked up and immediately spotted several Winged ones hovering among the dense treetops, their wings beating steadily.

“My lord, watch out!” the new recruit suddenly roared at him. They had all seen the enemies hiding in the canopy, and they saw them gathering together, preparing to cast concentrated lightning.

The Son of Flame had more than enough time to dodge, but if he did… the young soldiers behind him would surely perish.

He gritted his teeth and cursed inwardly. A blindingly hot wall of flame suddenly erupted from the ground, blocking the path of the incoming attack.

BOOM—

Thick flames and dust filled the air for dozens of meters around.

The Son of Flame dropped to one knee. He held on for a moment, but finally, he couldn’t stop himself from spitting out a large mouthful of blood. His body swayed and he collapsed to the ground.

A pair of rather thin arms reached out from the smoke, fumbled for the collar of his robe, and began dragging him back with all their might. From straight ahead came the sound of beating wings; the Winged ones were landing.

“Forget me, you have to run…” the Son of Flame gasped, pulling out his magic revolver and aiming it forward as he urged them on.

But the hands behind him did not let go…

In a daze, he heard the Stormwalker shout, his voice a mixture of alarm and fury.

A rustling, skittering sound came from behind, as if tens of thousands of ants were scrabbling with their legs, creating a noise that was enough to make one’s skin crawl.

Suddenly, countless spider-like mechanical insects surged out of the dust and smoke like a tide. They flowed directly past the Son of Flame’s body on the ground; many even took a shortcut, crawling right over his shoulder.

The Fire Mage jumped in fright. He struggled to raise a hand and grab a mechanical spider that was crawling right up his face. He squeezed slightly but found he couldn’t crush it at all.

He didn’t know if it was because he was too weak from his injuries, or if the thing was forged from some kind of magical metal.

Ahead, the closing figures of the Winged ones had just become visible when, in an instant, they were engulfed by the surging tide of insects.

A few seconds later, the tide of insects that had swarmed the enemy swiftly dispersed, continuing to pour toward the distant front lines where the fighting raged on…

To his horror, the Son of Flame saw that what was left behind… were only a few tattered husks.

Chapter 591: A Hard-Fought Victory

The tide of mechanical insects, composed of countless micro alchemical beasts, surged over one defensive line after another, rushing toward the enemy like an avalanche.

The sudden appearance of Commander Vaughn also made the soldiers understand… these incredibly strange metal critters were combat reinforcements from the rear area.

But the Demonic Lizardmen, who knew nothing of this secret weapon, were in for a world of hurt. The thumb-sized yet exceptionally sturdy mechanical spider-like insects seemed tailor-made to counter them. Their fine, sharp, area-of-effect black crystalline spikes were completely unable to shatter the insects. When the lizardmen used their long whips or crystalline spears to stab with all their might, they often only succeeded in driving the insects deep into the mud. But after a short while, the spider-like insects would dig through the earth and crawl out again.

Their numbers were so dense they were simply impossible to count. Even Vaughn, who had controlled them while riding a Magic Motorcycle to the battlefield, couldn’t precisely calculate how many of these terrifying Alchemical constructs were hidden within the two Gunships.

Perhaps a hundred thousand… or a million. In any case, they gathered into a silvery-white wave that shimmered with a metallic luster, directly overwhelming the Demonic Lizardmen who had nearly reached the second trench line.

After the “tide” washed over, only a few broken and tattered husks remained on the ground.

Many soldiers with excellent eyesight saw with their own eyes how those tiny spider-like insects climbed up the enemy’s uneven outer armor, pierced the red breathing sacs on the sides of their heads, and burrowed straight into the soft interior of their bodies.

Thump!

As a few straggling spider-like insects crawled across a trench, one accidentally fell at a soldier’s feet. It struggled on its back, legs flailing like a living insect. A sharp-eyed soldier immediately spotted it, carefully picked it up… and placed it back on the ground.

“These spider-like insects can tell friend from foe! They won’t attack our soldiers at all!”

“The enemy is completely entangled by them! This is a powerful soul magic cast by His Majesty! Follow them… push them back!”

Many officers immediately received commands from the rear and stood up, shouting themselves hoarse.

At that moment, the artillery positions resumed their barrage. Shell after shell soared over the trenches, smashing mercilessly into the retreating enemy’s landing points. The non-stop bombardment virtually cut off their escape route.

The artillery bombardment and the tide of mechanical insects blocked their paths of advance and retreat, forcing them to cluster closer together, gradually tightening their formation for a final struggle.

The now-free Spellcasters and Bloodline Warriors picked up their sniper-type Magical Energy Guns and Beam Weapons. They aimed at the Winged ones fighting individually in the sky, picking them off and shooting them down from the dense canopies where they hid.

The prolonged battle had not only nearly exhausted the Spellcasters’ mana, but these long-winged evolved beings were also facing energy depletion. The frequency of the black water and red light attacks from the sky was gradually decreasing with time… until they could no longer unleash any attacks and began to flap their fleshy wings to retreat toward the Floating Island.

Just then, a world-shattering roar erupted from the direction of Great Bear Lake!

Under the continuous, rain-like bombardment of the Magical Energy Naval Cannon, the portion of Floating Island Number 3 that rose hundreds of feet above the water’s surface was actually shaved down by nearly half. Large fragments peeled off its surface, splashing into the lake. The Floating Island suddenly began to tremble and sway violently, like a colossal sea beast from ancient times, silently roaring and struggling in pain from its grievous wounds.

The petal-shaped opening at the top, used for releasing the Winged ones, had long been twisted and shattered by the baptism of cannon fire. Lightning-like cracks split open on the island’s surface, and thick black water gushed out, dyeing the entire lake a deep black.

Another shell, screaming from its high-speed flight, slammed heavily into the Floating Island… With this fierce blow, a massive chunk of the island’s side was suddenly torn away, exposing the spiral-shaped passageway structure within.

And this, it seemed, was the last straw.

“Look! Floating Island Number 3 is sinking! It… we’ve sunk it!” the soldier on observation duty suddenly shouted, raising his spyglass with a mixture of joy and surprise. The news spread like wildfire along the entire line.

The battlefield instantly erupted. Cheering, the soldiers poured out of the trenches, launching a victorious charge against an enemy that had already exhausted its supply of black water.

As the enemies on the ground and in the sky were eliminated one by one under concentrated fire, this incredibly fierce battle finally drew to a close.

…

The Son of Flame pushed away the potion vial a Medic held to his lips, shaking his head. “Ordinary potions are useless on me, son… get me a bottle of vodka.”

Stormwalker suddenly threw open the tent flap and walked in, scolding with a laugh, “A recovery potion is useless, but hard liquor will work?”

The Fire Mage rolled his eyes, struggled to his feet, and walked out of the tent, ignoring the soldier’s attempt to stop him.

After a walk around the rear supply camp, he found the pale-faced Commander Vaughn in a newly erected tent.

“You magnificent bastard! Those strange things you brought… those micro alchemical beasts, where in the world did they come from? A secret weapon from His Majesty Harvey? Why didn’t you use them earlier? You made us fight so hard!”

With that, he slapped the half-orc’s sturdy shoulder, and actually knocked the man backward onto the cot.

Only then did the two realize that Vaughn’s face was unnaturally pale. He was soaked in sweat, the very picture of complete exhaustion.

“Are you injured? How did you get so weak?”

Vaughn waved a hand and explained slowly in a hoarse voice, “This is why… His Majesty ordered that unless it was absolutely necessary, we were not to deploy those alchemical beasts… Just acting as the conduit for his mental connection… nearly drained all of my bloodline power and willpower.”

The Son of Flame was stunned. After a few seconds, he said drily, “You… you’re saying that endless tide of alchemical beasts that flooded the battlefield… was… was controlled by His Majesty Harvey, through you… with his mental energy?”

How was that possible? Great Bear Lake and Starfire City were nearly five hundred kilometers apart. Not even the two Legendary Chiefs who presided over the Northern Realm could connect the two places with any kind of magic, let alone control hundreds of thousands or even millions of Alchemical constructs in battle.

Vaughn closed his eyes, his expression one of tacit agreement, but he didn’t intend to explain further.

Just as Ferr was about to press for more, Stormwalker quietly tugged his sleeve, shaking his head with a grave expression.

The Son of Flame instantly understood something and wisely chose to keep his mouth shut.

“Commander! Sir, it’s bad! Our little spiders… those alchemical beasts, they’ve all just shut down! They’re scattered across the battlefield like beans. What should we do?”

An adjutant hurried into the tent, reporting to his superior with a strange look on his face.

Vaughn propped himself up irritably and ordered in a weak voice, “What else can we do? Go pick them up!”

Chapter 592: Post-Battle Debriefing

Harvey had gathered everyone in the castle. Before they could even come up with a plan for emergency reinforcements to Great Bear Lake, they received news of victory from the front.

Even he hadn’t expected that the hidden card he had tucked away in the Shallow-Water Gunboats would come into play at the most critical moment of the battle.

Those tiny spider-like insects, converted entirely from Energy-devouring beetles, had originally been a tentative private experiment. The materials used to create them were nothing more than scraps left over from the Alchemy Laboratory and the munitions factory’s mass production of alchemical beasts.

Despite being only the size of a fingertip, the alchemical beasts could still retain their original properties even after mass soul transfer, allowing them to perform delicate operations under Harvey’s control.

For this very reason, Harvey hadn’t actually held high hopes for their effectiveness on the battlefield… This was a completely unexpected surprise.

“We deployed just under two thousand troops, along with two Shallow-Water Gunboats and nearly a hundred Aerial Combat Mages, and we managed to sink one of the Demonic Lizardmen’s Floating Island fortresses,” Rainer said, his voice filled with an indescribable joy. “Once this news gets back home, it’s sure to stir up the people and bolster their confidence again.”

Harvey shook his head and said slowly, “The battle also exposed our persistent flaw of insufficient firepower.”

Two Shallow-Water Gunboats, eight large-caliber Magical Energy Naval Cannons, dozens of portable cannons, and numerous anti-air Beam Weapons… and still they were stretched thin when facing an enemy that knew no fear or death and charged forward wave after wave.

Right now, the Northern Army was meticulously clearing the battlefield. The depths of Great Bear Lake were immeasurable, and the sunken wreckage of the Floating Island undoubtedly still hid a few surviving enemy soldiers, though their exact numbers could not be confirmed.

According to the current statistics, only the three thousand or so Demonic Lizardmen who made landfall had died under the soldiers’ cannons and guns. This number included nearly a thousand Winged ones.

Most of the enemy, in fact, had died from the naval cannons’ long-range bombardment. Before they could even emerge from the Floating Island, they were killed by the concussive force of the relentless barrage while still inside the passageways.

This was why the thousands of corpses floating on the lake’s surface were mostly intact, unlike their brethren who had participated in the landing operation and were missing limbs or had been hollowed into empty husks by the alchemical spider-like insects.

“It’s a pity that the bodies and creations of this non-human race are so bizarre. We still haven’t been able to figure out any applications for them.” Chief Dawson sighed with some regret. “Aside from eliminating their effective strength, you could say we’ve gained nothing.”

After officially moving into the New Federation building, he and Salas had immediately set to work establishing a research group composed of Federation members and local Spellcasters. They had been working intensely on deciphering the Demonic Lizardmen’s various creations, but to this day, they had made no significant progress.

Whether it was the Floating Island fragments, which had structures like deep-sea coral and reefs, the Demonic Lizardmen’s magic-resistant hide, or even the flesh and blood extracted from their soft bodies… apart from re-confirming the magic-seeking property of the black water, they had discovered nothing else.

These were all seemingly unremarkable, ordinary substances, yet in the hands of this strange non-human race, they could be used to achieve such formidable combat power.

“Unless we can capture… or rather, occupy a completely intact Floating Island fortress, I’m afraid it will be very difficult for us to unravel the mysteries of this deviant race,” Salas said, finally breaking a long silence.

“Your Excellency, that’s a bit of a tall order.” Harvey couldn’t help but give a wry smile, shrugging as he spread his hands. “If we really had that kind of capability, we would have driven them out and annihilated them long ago.”

The next topic was rather awkward… The meeting, which was originally intended to discuss emergency reinforcements, had suddenly turned into a post-battle debriefing, forcing them to address the “awkward” role the Federation’s Mage Corps played in this battle.

As “aerial decoys,” they were clearly competent enough. But when facing an enemy that outnumbered them several times over, these battle mages, who were accustomed to small-scale combat, had a very limited ability to intercept and kill the Winged ones.

In total, the one hundred battle mages, working with the floating Airships, shot down fewer than five hundred enemies. Most of these troublesome Winged ones were eliminated only after they neared the defensive line, landed voluntarily, and met with fierce resistance from the soldiers and Bloodline Warriors.

The suppressive effect of the non-human race’s magic-resistant hide on Spellcasters was glaringly obvious. When the fighting was at its most intense, the Mages even resorted to drawing their issued magic revolvers to engage the enemy at close range, with no opportunity to cast the high-circle attack magic they were so proud of.

Seeing the two Chiefs remain silent on the matter, Spellshield could only step forward awkwardly to save the situation.

He cleared his throat and said slowly, “We did indeed miscalculate the number of Winged ones. Our Mages were piloting the Airships while outnumbered ten to one. It’s already very fortunate that we didn’t suffer heavy casualties.”

Fortunately, this battle also made them fully understand that it was unrealistic to rely solely on the power of Spellcasters to fight the enemy. They were severely lacking in both offensive methods and sheer numbers.

In the near future, the leading role on the stage of battle would likely have to be handed over to the disciplined and numerous mortal soldiers.

After quickly moving past the topic that was awkward for their allies, the group then discussed the casualties.

Harvey had actually known the specific figures for this part as soon as he received the first report from the front. Without a doubt, the Emperor’s greatest concern would be the soldiers’ casualties.

Three full-strength battalions totaling one thousand five hundred men, a one-hundred-man Special forces squad composed of Bloodline Warriors, and a similar number of nearly one hundred Federation battle mages… Ninety were killed in action, and over two hundred eighty were wounded.

Excluding the logistics personnel who were hardly ever at the actual front, even the Artillerymen, positioned behind the primary line of fire, suffered considerable losses.

The vast majority of the dead and wounded were casualties caused by the Winged ones who got close to the defensive line. The black crystal spears they launched from above were impossible for the soldiers to dodge, and the Winged ones’ focused attacks were even harder to parry. The wounded sent to the rear medical stations were all suffering from penetrating wounds and burns. Even with rubber fruit coagulant for rapid blood staunching and swift suturing by several medical alchemical beasts, many still succumbed to their injuries.

Harvey had no intention of holding the Aerial Combat Mages responsible for letting the enemy get close to the line, and he certainly wasn’t going to blame the Medics. These young men, who had only a few short months of simple training at the infirmary, were also heroes who risked their lives carrying stretchers back and forth on the front line.

As the scale of the battles continued to grow, more casualties would inevitably follow. The only course of action was to maximize the army’s medical treatment capabilities and train more military doctors with battlefield first-aid skills. There was no other way.

“Notify the front line to just gather the Demonic Lizardmen’s corpses and burn them. As for our fallen soldiers… get a clear count of their serial numbers and names, and bring them back for a proper burial.”

Harvey’s tone was heavy. He looked around at everyone and said slowly, “This is our first true victory against the non-human race. I plan to hold a celebration and a memorial service to commend the soldiers who fought bravely and to commemorate the heroes who fell.”

Chapter 593: A Smooth Return

After securing a hard-fought first victory, Harvey’s pre-war anxiety finally eased, and the weight on his mind was temporarily lifted.

Taking advantage of the start of spring, he made a public address to all the people of the kingdom, officially proclaiming that the state under his rule was renamed the United Kingdom of St. Valen and the Northern Realm, and affirming Starfire City’s important status as the kingdom’s capital.

As administrative notices and newspapers were distributed, the populace in every region quickly learned the news. They also learned from official channels about the Northern Army’s inspiring victory, and for a time, nearly everyone in the kingdom was eagerly discussing the topic of the non-human race’s invasion.

City Hall also took this opportunity to be officially renamed the Department of State, which stood parallel to the similarly restructured Ministry of Defense, becoming the highest command departments for the United Kingdom’s military and political administration.

As the training and recruitment of military and political officials at all levels matured, Harvey was able to shed a significant portion of his workload. There were now few government affairs that required his personal attention; most of the time, he only needed to attend important meetings and act as a merciless signing machine.

With more free time, he could finally focus his energy on treating his “inadequate firepower phobia.” Several new military research and development projects immediately entered the preparatory stage with great urgency.

As soon as the spring planting began, the entire Northern Realm seemed to awaken from hibernation. From the Farm to the Mining Area, the industrial parks, and the garrisoned Regiments, newly constructed facilities and buildings could be seen everywhere, along with bustling crowds of people coming and going all day.

The two rail lines at the kingdom’s Central Station were so busy they ran nonstop all day. The vitality bursting from the city was enough to make any first-time outsider gasp in amazement.

Starfire Weekly had just published its latest issue, and the very next day, it welcomed the triumphant return of the Northern Army.

The people, having learned the news early from the newspaper, spontaneously gathered outside the city to welcome their combat heroes. Cheers and applause practically resounded from the mountaintops.

…

After handling his official duties, Vaughn led a group of officers from the expedition, along with battle mages like the Son of Flame, to the castle to meet with His Majesty the Emperor, who had been waiting for a long time.

“Your Majesty, we were fortunate to fulfill our mission in this surprise attack against the non-human race at Great Bear Lake…” the half-orc officer said, kneeling on one knee and resting a hand on his side sword as he bowed his head to Harvey.

Harvey, however, waved his hand with a smile and had them take their seats before speaking slowly, “This was what one might call a difficult victory. The Northern Army has never paid such a heavy price since its founding… Nevertheless, your performance did not disappoint me. The soldiers fought heroically and showed no fear in the face of the enemy’s savagery. I am very gratified.”

This praise unabashedly revealed the Emperor’s approval and favoritism towards the army’s performance, instantly making the Son of Flame and the Stormwalker, who were left feeling sidelined, a little awkward. The Fire Mage coughed subconsciously but didn’t know what to say, his expression somewhat dejected as he stared blankly into space.

“Mr. Ferr, Mr. Willy, our battle mages performed outstandingly as well. It is just as I said… the close cooperation between Spellcasters and mortal soldiers in battle will undoubtedly give us a better grasp of the battlefield situation and allow us to utterly crush the invading enemy.”

Hearing the undeniable sincerity in Harvey’s words, and how he used “us” to refer to this group of battle mages who had come from afar, the Stormwalker felt a warmth spread through his heart, and the long-suppressed feelings of resentment and shame were swept away.

He immediately stood up, but instead of his usual ancient wizard’s salute, he struck his chest with a clenched fist and gave Harvey a Northern Army military salute, his voice heavy. “Your Majesty, this battle has also taught us a great deal. I now finally understand the true meaning of the phrase you so often mention… ‘Unity is strength’.”

Harvey felt a pang of embarrassment. He nodded slightly before turning to the still dazed Son of Flame with a smile. “Mr. Ferr, my commander’s talent and strength didn’t disappoint you, I hope?”

Ferr was instantly reminded of his arrogant words before the expedition. His old face reddened, and he stammered, “Colonel Vaughn… his control over the battlefield situation did indeed live up to my expectations. At the most critical moment… it was also he who decisively used the secret weapon Your Majesty entrusted to him, instantly breaking the stalemate and allowing us to achieve victory.”

It was rare for this old “contrarian” to back down in person, and he hadn’t acted rashly or impulsively during the entire operation, nor had he done anything dangerous. Harvey breathed a secret sigh of relief.

But to his surprise, in the next second, the man immediately pushed his luck, as if his embarrassing admission from moments before had never happened.

“But, Your Majesty… it’s one thing to give Colonel Vaughn a secret weapon, but why do your Bloodline Warriors also possess new equipment we’ve never seen before? That… explosive bolt gun! Yes! Why wasn’t it issued to the battle mages? Are you practicing preferential treatment?”

Harvey shook his head helplessly and, with a wry smile, raised a hand to summon the deputy squad leader of the Personal Guard standing by his side. “Iron Head, give Mr. Ferr your handgun to try.”

Iron Head grinned. “Your Majesty, the explosive bolt gun is too heavy,” he said quietly. “Unless… unless we’re escorting you outside, we don’t usually carry them in the castle.”

Vaughn silently gave his adjutant a look. The subordinate immediately sent someone to the Personal Guard Armory to fetch an empty gun, which was assembled in a few quick movements and presented to Ferr.

The Son of Flame pursed his lips and raised a hand to grip the gun’s handle… lifting it without a change in expression to examine it closely.

It was less than half the length of a Magical Energy Gun, but slightly longer than a revolver. Its barrel had a large caliber, more than twice that of a conventional magical weapon, which meant the ammunition it used was not to be underestimated.

A miniature Portable Cannon?

Following the way the soldier had just assembled the weapon, he expertly checked the magazine well in the grip and found that there was only space for a single bullet.

“This thing can only fire a single shot. The power of the magical explosive bolt is extremely strong, and ordinary gunsmithing techniques simply can’t guarantee it won’t have a barrel explosion on the spot. So, a large amount of magical minerals had to be incorporated… which also means that although it looks like a handgun, its actual weight exceeds fifty pounds.”

Other than eccentrics like the Son of Flame who were keen on physical magical enhancement, traditional battle mages simply couldn’t bear such a weight. Carrying it would only make them lose their mobility and agility, failing to amplify their advantages.

The Fire Mage, however, paid it no mind at all, grinning as he said, “Such a powerful heavy-firepower weapon should naturally be wielded by those who are capable. Your Majesty, just issue it to me… I’ll go and apply for my ammunition quota myself later.”

With that, he brazenly and cheerfully accepted the new gun in his hand, right in front of everyone.

“If you like it, you can certainly take it. In the future, our Mage colleagues from the New Federation can participate in test-firing experiments for all new weapons developed in Starfire City. If they are suitable for issue… I will absolutely not be secretive or hold anything back.”

Harvey spread his hands and said with a smile to the group of high-rank battle mages in the hall, all of whom wore looks of surprise.

Chapter 594: Medical Inspection

Hearing that His Majesty the Emperor suddenly intended to come for an inspection, Egnor led his subordinate administrative officials and waited early at the main gate of the infirmary.

After its restructuring, the infirmary had now been formally renamed the Kingdom’s Ministry of Medicine… subordinate to the Department of State, it shouldered the responsibility for disease prevention and medical services for all citizens of the United Kingdom.

Of course, the Ministry of Medicine also trained and supplied military doctors for the Ministry of Defense and the army.

As the minister, Egnor was naturally well aware of the purpose behind Harvey’s surprise work inspection… Although the battle at Great Bear Lake had been a victory, the army’s field medical department’s performance had been somewhat subpar.

The hundred or so soldiers who died directly on the battlefield were, of course, no fault of theirs. But the emergency treatment of a full three hundred lightly and severely wounded soldiers clearly exposed the inadequacy of the medical personnel’s abilities—the infirmary’s targeted training for battlefield first aid often focused only on rapid hemostasis and wound suturing. When faced with more complex injuries and subsequent infection problems, they seemed somewhat ill-equipped to handle them.

This also led to dozens more severely wounded soldiers, who had been snatched back from the jaws of death, losing their precious lives on the army’s victorious return journey because they couldn’t receive timely and effective treatment.

Not all medical personnel, like Egnor, possessed the Elven race’s talent for nature-type spells while also having considerable insight into medical research… The vast majority of the half-blood Elves who followed him were only at the rank of magic apprentice. Even if they were all sent to the battlefield, their feeble healing spells couldn’t even mend a single severed finger.

As for ordinary physicians, it was even worse… They were accustomed to relying on the exquisite and rapid suturing abilities of the medical alchemical beasts, as well as the hemostatic dressings and healing potions developed by the infirmary. The wounded brought back from the battlefield were often sutured as needed, then bandaged and given potions, after which they could only wait and watch for them to heal naturally.

The entire process was not much different from how things were done at the infirmary, and it was all carried out in strict accordance with the battlefield first aid procedures they had been trained in… It was just that no one understood the complexity of the battlefield environment; the infection rate for outdoor medical care far exceeded that of the clean and comfortable infirmary.

The people of this era naturally couldn’t understand what infection was, much less the principles of bacterial and viral reproduction… Gauze for bandaging wounds and thread for suturing needed to be boiled in water before use. Before stopping bleeding and treating injuries, wounds also needed to be cleaned with boiled water. Soldiers who were exhausted and weak from intense combat should be given a sugar and salt solution of a specific ratio, rather than being crudely forced to drink magic potions.

They followed all these requirements, knowing what to do but not why they were doing it. It was no wonder so many things went wrong when they rigidly adhered to the rules.

“Many soldiers actually died from festering wounds and persistent high fevers. In their already weakened state, taking more magic potions actually made them unable to withstand the corrosive effect of mana on their flesh and blood, leading to the rapid failure of their organs and tissues.”

Although he knew the Emperor might hold him accountable for this, Egnor, out of a sense of responsibility, still reported his findings.

Harvey remained silent, flipping through the submitted report page by page, carefully scanning the treatment record of every single soldier.

Closing the report, he tapped his fingers on the armrest of his chair. The medical officials present instantly tensed up, all sitting up straighter.

“Now you understand. Medical alchemical beasts and alchemical magic potions are not the only things to rely on for treating the sick and saving lives.”

His powerful Spirit and Soul gave Harvey a memory far superior to that of an ordinary Spellcaster. He could recite a soldier’s detailed medical record from memory. “Hugh Henderson, 22 years old, from Frostflower Town in Grizzly Bear Territory. His abdomen was pierced by a black water javelin during the battle. After hemostasis and suturing, he died on the return journey from infection and internal bleeding caused by a ruptured intestinal tract.”

“Yuan, 28 years old, a barren lander. He was hit by a blast of concentrated red light in battle, suffering extensive burns to his face, shoulders, neck, and chest. After having his wounds dressed with medicine and continuously taking recovery potions orally, he died on the return journey from high fever and organ failure brought on by his festering wounds.”

Two very typical cases of medical malpractice… one of insufficient treatment, the other of excessive treatment.

A middle-aged official sitting next to Egnor shot to his feet. His pointed ears and handsome features revealed his identity as a half-blood Elf. His face was filled with shame and his eyes were red. He placed a hand on his chest, bowed his head, and said in a trembling voice, “Your Majesty, I was responsible for the army’s medical mission during the Great Bear Lake operation. I will bear full responsibility…”

Harvey raised a hand to interrupt him, speaking in a gentle voice, “I have no intention of holding you accountable. Today’s meeting is not an interrogation to assign blame. I only ask that you reflect…”

With that, he clapped his hands. His accompanying personal guards walked forward carrying a thick stack of documents and distributed them to the officials seated around the table.

“Take a look. This is a field medical manual I’ve drafted recently. It details a system of emergency medical triage, regulations on the scope of application for magic potions, and more detailed methods for disinfection and treating infections.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the sound of rustling paper filled the room.

When he saw that the opening of the document stated in bold letters that the primary core principle of field medicine… was to ensure the safety of the battlefield medics themselves, Egnor quietly raised his head and glanced at Harvey, who sat in the seat of honor, with a complicated expression.

What followed, however, was not some innovative treatment plan, nor more advanced uses for medical alchemical beasts, but dozens of articles on a “wound assessment and triage system.”

Prioritize controlling major bleeding, ensure the wounded’s airway is clear… Wait! What is airway intubation?

Treating an open pneumothorax… Hmm, this is the protocol for when a penetrating wound injures the lungs and neck.

Dealing with shock and coma, checking for head trauma, preventing hypothermia from blood loss.

In short, this shockingly detailed foreword was primarily for establishing… whether it was necessary to perform emergency aid on the wounded soldier at all. The purpose was to prevent precious medical personnel from wasting their efforts, which would in turn delay the rescue of other wounded soldiers.

As he continued to read, the subsequent content left him even more dumbfounded.

Treatment for embedded foreign objects, burn treatment, treatment for penetrating wounds, fracture treatment…

And most importantly, infection prevention!

Besides the mandatory use of gauze and suture thread that had been soaked in boiling water, it was equally important to clean wounds with clean water and repeatedly distilled strong liquor. This was a departure from their customary use of healing potions.

“Purple-Olive Chrysanthemum and Eagle Beak Garlic? Your Majesty… these two plants are clearly wild flowers and common spices with no magical components, are they not?”

Seeing the suggestion for a medicinal formula study mentioned in the infection prevention section, Egnor finally couldn’t help but lower the document and look up at Harvey in astonishment.

Harvey nodded and smiled. “Your research into magical plants is beyond question, but you have completely neglected the development and exploration of ordinary medicinal herbs… This is the Shepherd Knight, ahem… This is a potion formula reported to me by the Minister of the Agriculture Department, Anbiki Kenny. It is used by many livestock farmers in the south to prevent postpartum infections and high fevers in their animals.”

Since they were all invasive infections caused by E. coli, streptococcus, and staphylococcus, Harvey believed that if it worked wonders on livestock, it could naturally be applied to people as well.

Compared to the fast-acting alchemical magic potions, which could only rapidly promote the healing of flesh and blood, this ordinary plant-based extract, which could be safely applied to mortals, was clearly more effective. At the same time, it could also effectively avoid the side effects of mortals’ intolerance to the corrosive effects of mana.

Egnor nodded and stood up with a solemn expression. “I understand, Your Majesty. Please grant me three days. We will immediately begin the development of this potion and complete the clinical trials simultaneously!”

Chapter 595: Belonging

The brick and wood house was comfortably warm. Even though spring had arrived, the city’s central heating was still running.

This was incredibly comfortable for Hick, who was used to walking barefoot at home. For the past twenty-odd years, he had always been barefoot in the Mining Area, which caused recurring frostbite on his toes. Wearing the brand-new military-issue boots for too long actually made his feet itchy and uncomfortable.

Perhaps he should find some time to visit the military clinic and ask the military doctors for some ointment to treat the scars. It might finally cure this old ailment that had plagued him for a good part of his life.

As he thought this, he picked up the leather boots placed neatly by the door and carefully cleaned the surface dust with his issued small brush.

If life in Starfire City was a “paradise on earth” far beyond his expectations, then his days since joining the army had made him truly understand the responsibility and morality that came with being human.

To pledge fealty to His Majesty the Emperor, to fight bravely against the non-human races… It wasn’t to satisfy the selfish desires for power of noble lords and the supreme ruler, but to protect the common people who came from the same background as them, to defend this hard-won peaceful life and their paradise of a home.

At first, these principles were repeatedly drilled into the new recruits’ heads by political instructors during the mandatory evening ideology classes organized by their officers. But as time went on, Hick clearly learned and understood much more from the veterans and comrades around him.

Such a home, such fellow kin, such a life… was truly worth everyone fighting and defending with all they had, even their very lives.

Suddenly, there was a bang, bang, bang on the door.

He opened the door to find several young children, not even reaching his waist, standing outside and jostling each other…

“Big Brother Hick! I knew you were on leave and came home today!”

The children looked at the young man, whose lips curled into a smile, and playfully swarmed into the small room of less than twenty square meters.

“Where’s your big magical gun? Didn’t you promise to show us the legendary gun that can kill non-human monsters?”

In the open room, besides the washroom whose interior was visible at a glance, there was only a simple wardrobe, a desk, and a single bed pressed against the wall.

The window was shut tight, and the occasional cold wind of early spring couldn’t possibly penetrate the well-sealed window frame to blow into the room and dispel the warmth.

The copper heating pipes embedded in the wall made a turn and ran right alongside the bed board, transferring some of the heat directly to the mattress, making the bed the warmest spot in the entire room.

“The Magical Energy Gun is a soldier’s most important weapon. It can’t be casually brought out of the Military Barracks, much less be a toy for you.”

The children sensibly lined up to enter the washroom, turned on the brass water taps one by one to rinse their feet, then obediently climbed onto the single bed and sat cross-legged in a row.

“Hmph, since we can’t see the big gun, you should at least tell us the story of the big battle with the monsters on the city wall not long ago!”

Hick couldn’t help but smile indulgently. He took out an oil-paper package from a wall-mounted cabinet and distributed the cheese, which had already been cut into cubes, to the children.

This was a “supplementary food” rationed by the Defense Force to ordinary soldiers for quickly replenishing calories during cross-country marches and drills. Hick had saved up quite a bit and secretly brought it back as a treat for the children, who also came from Bluebramble City.

Their group of slaves, brought back to the capital by the Northern Army, were nearly all completely illiterate. Even though they were sent to the Night Literacy School one after another, not many of them successfully graduated and learned to read and write… This meant that most of them could only choose to travel far to the Eastern Basin and take up simple manual labor jobs at the pioneer settlements.

Those who remained in the capital could only find jobs with relatively low hiring standards, such as on farms or in forestry areas.

But thankfully, His Majesty had truly fulfilled his promise. Everyone had a job that was more than enough to feed their families, and at the same time, they were completely cleansed of the shameful status of a slave. In the capital, they never encountered any overt discrimination or different treatment.

This was not a gift from the gods, but a stroke of luck they could never have anticipated in their lifetime.

“I’ve already told you about the monster battle once. Now, how about I test you on your studies at the primary school?” Hick winked, suggesting with a bit of mischievous humor.

The children immediately wailed in protest.

“No! Studying is too painful! The only reason we’ve lasted this long is because Teacher Sophia is both gentle and beautiful!”

“That’s right! For students who persevere and finish their homework, she even gives us some candy in private! It’s no worse than the cheese you brought back!”

Hick had heard about this before—that the school teachers often rewarded and helped out these children of slave origin with snacks and pastries. Most of the children’s parents worked in relatively low-paying jobs. Many even supported their families with temporary work at construction sites. Filling their stomachs wasn’t a problem, but they naturally couldn’t provide their children with extra treats.

Looking at the children’s gradually plumper and fairer faces, Hick felt the pouch on his chest and said with a smile, “Since cheese can’t bribe you, how about I take you all out today? We can go to a diner in the Market District for a big meal.”

The children’s eyes widened, and they asked in disbelief, “A diner? Is that the kind of restaurant our local classmates are always telling us about? With golden, crispy cutlets, unlimited cream of mushroom soup, and white bread with honey and jam?”

The youngest child timidly counted on his fingers and said, “That must be expensive, right? My father told me… if I can graduate from primary school, he’ll save up enough money for our whole family to go there once to celebrate.”

Hick shook his head, pulled out a stack of banknotes from his pouch, and waved them in his hand. “No need to wait until then. My salary now is enough for you to enjoy it ahead of time!”

The children immediately jumped up from the bed, cheering with delight…

…

Without time to change into his casual clothes, which weren’t completely dry yet, Hick could only wear his standard-issue Defense Force uniform as he led the laughing children toward the Market District.

Whether they were state-run or privately owned, the restaurants in the Market District were mostly packed with customers in the evenings. On one hand, it was because the people of the capital had plenty of money in their pockets; on the other, it was due to the strict price controls on consumer goods.

A high-end restaurant like “The Honey and the Bear” was naturally not Hick’s first choice. The more affordable and moderately priced “Harvest Ale,” which he often heard his local comrades in the army mention, was a better fit.

This was a privately-run diner. Most of the patrons were local “middle-class” people living in the communities near the Market District. Although the menu wasn’t extensive, the portions were large and the food was delicious.

The middle-aged owner, who was a bit chubby, also worked as a waiter. When he saw Hick come in with a group of children, he glanced at his crisp military uniform and broke into an exceptionally kind smile.

“This young soldier… oh! And these lovely children, what would you like for dinner?” The stout owner winked at Hick and suggested warmly, “If you choose the pork chop set meal, we’ll give you an extra serving of berry muffins. It’s a privilege only for soldiers who dine here. Don’t worry about there not being enough for the children… I’ll personally give you a double portion!”

Hick was taken aback. He self-consciously straightened his uniform, opened his mouth but didn’t know what to say. This was also his first time eating out. Faced with the owner’s earnest gaze and the friendly looks from the surrounding diners, he could feel the long-healed brand on his face grow slightly warm.

“Then… the set meal, please. Thank you for your generosity!”

The stout owner nodded and patted the young soldier’s shoulder with his broad hand. “No, we should be thanking you. Thank you, to all you soldiers who fight bravely to protect our priceless home and kingdom.”

The surrounding customers raised their glasses, looking at Hick with warm smiles as they said in unison, “To His Majesty! To the brave soldiers who fight to protect our home!”

Chapter 596: Victory Day (End of Volume)

Three days later, the Starfire Weekly suddenly published a special edition. It used a full two-thirds of its pages to feature the heroic deeds of the soldiers who had fallen in the Great Bear Lake battle, presenting the origins and lives of these warriors to the public in concise language.

Their funerals were held quietly within the military. After cremation, their ashes were, as was customary, interred in the Heroes’ Cemetery outside the South Gate, where their comrades and families could mourn in private.

Meanwhile, more local citizens who knew of their deeds spontaneously went to the Heroes’ Monument in front of the New Federation building to mourn in silence. For a time, the entire square was filled with an endless stream of people, and the base of the towering obelisk was adorned with a profusion of flowers.

Ross, who had just finished his shift at the Staff Department, also bought a bouquet of white flowers from a vendor in the Market District. He changed into a new, crisp military administrator’s uniform and walked slowly through the inner city towards the Heroes’ Monument.

“Lieutenant Ross?” a familiar voice suddenly called out to him.

Ross turned instinctively and saw two young officers, also holding white flowers, walking towards him side-by-side. They too were wearing the same staff officer uniforms.

“Ensign Ivan? Are you also taking advantage of the day off to pay respects to the fallen soldiers?” Although they didn’t serve in the same staff group, Ross had heard of this unusually active, academy-trained officer and quickly nodded in acknowledgment.

Ivan nodded and then introduced his colleague. “This is Lieutenant Dickinson. Like us, he serves in the Staff Department. I don’t believe you’ve met before, have you?”

Ross politely sized up the other man, feeling a strange sense of familiarity. Just as he was mulling over what to say, the other man spoke first: “We should have met. Five years ago at the royal martial arts tournament in the old capital… Goldshine City. Your Excellency Ross was quite the spectacle, defeating three noble-born knights from Black Mountain Port in a row.”

“Oh! You’re… you’re Chief Knight Di—” Ross’s eyes widened in realization. He suddenly remembered the approving gaze of the knight in full silver armor standing beside the throne when he received his sash and award from the former King’s hands after his victory.

Dickinson smiled politely and waved a hand to cut off Ross’s formalities. “There’s no need to bring up the past,” he said with a sigh. “Now, we are simply colleagues working together.”

Seeing that the two were old acquaintances, Ivan laughed. “Let’s go to the monument together. If we wait any longer, we might not be able to get through the crowd.”

After all, it was approaching noon, and the upcoming Victory Day celebration was also to be held in the monument square. Before long, soldiers from the Defense Force would likely be arriving to gradually begin clearing the area.

“I heard that a play personally directed by Minister of Culture, His Excellency Ashe, will be performed publicly at the monument square tonight… After the celebration, are you two planning to stay and watch?” Ross spontaneously started a new topic.

Ivan raised an eyebrow and asked, “Is that the play called The Hero’s Path? I remember it’s based on the story of the Northern Army’s expedition to Isengard. Heh… our department was deeply involved in planning the strategy for that military operation. The two of us know the details almost by heart, probably better than the actors do.”

Dickinson shrugged at this and said lightly, “That’s right. The subsequent work involving the migration and accommodation of the Borderland Tribes was handled directly by my group.”

Although staff officers in the army generally did not hold high ranks, the matters they handled were often subject to confidentiality regulations. Unless a person brought it up themselves, even colleagues from different departments would not press for details.

It was just as Ivan and Dickinson would not take the initiative to ask Ross about his specific duties at the Ice Sea Base.

So, Ross tactfully changed the subject. He smiled. “I hear that The Rootless People who migrated in large numbers to the Fengyuan City area are very enthusiastic about joining the army. The people at the Fengyuan City recruitment office must be overjoyed, right?”

Dickinson was silent for a moment before answering carefully, “Their enthusiasm is indeed high, but unfortunately, their literacy rate is ridiculously low. Without a long period of literacy education, they simply can’t meet the army’s recruitment standards.”

Ever since His Majesty issued the war mobilization order to fight the non-human races, recruitment for the United Kingdom had been like a bottomless pit that could never be filled. From the capital itself to the many administrative cities and rural counties in the south, recruitment officers were nearly everywhere. These men, holding loudspeakers and posting notices, would even go down to the fields to give impassioned speeches. Even in a small village with fewer than a hundred households, one could see the large banners they hung at the entrance of the Literacy School.

The nation’s army rapidly expanded to a frightening degree. Yet, contrary to expectations, it had not descended into the chaos of a ruined economy and a suffering populace due to the Emperor’s “warmongering” policy. It was nothing short of a miracle.

Periodically, rumbling trains would deliver a new batch of recruits to the capital, fresh from their initial training in their hometowns. After the Northern Army picked out the best, the rest were sent to the Defense Force for another selection. Then, they would board trains again, return to the south, and be stationed away from home under the Military Command’s deployment.

The Ministry of Defense’s budget seemed eternally flush. Officers and soldiers, regardless of rank, always received their salaries and benefits on time. Even in the days leading up to the harvest, when the food reserves of the various royal families and noble lords were generally running low, the bountiful meals and training rations that the soldiers received from the mess halls were never diminished.

To a native-born officer like Ivan, this all seemed natural. But only traditional knights like Dickinson and Ross, who had grown up in the fiefdoms of southern nobles, could deeply appreciate just how unfathomably profound the foundation and strength of this United Kingdom—which had risen so rapidly from the Northern Realm—truly were, now that its enormous war machine was fully operational.

The three of them chatted as they walked. When they reached the monument square, they were, as expected, blocked on the outskirts by a dense crowd.

They had no choice but to give the flowers they’d brought for mourning to the children who were playfully weaving through the crowd.

At noon, city-wide bells rang out, accompanied by a twelve-gun salute from the distant city walls, announcing the official start of the Victory Day celebration.

As everyone had hoped, His Majesty the Emperor attended the ceremony. Although he only gave a brief speech from a temporary platform erected before the monument, the cheers of the people nearly set the sky ablaze. Flowers and ribbons were thrown into the air like rain, and everyone spontaneously raised and waved their hands, offering blessings and prayers for the bright future of the United Kingdom.

The ceremony proceeded in an orderly fashion with a moment of silence, the awarding of medals to expeditionary soldiers, and public speeches by military commanders… The celebrations continued until dusk.

As evening approached, the highly anticipated theatrical performance finally began.

As they watched the actors on the high stage perform with all their might, their passionate and stirring lines echoing through the alchemical loudspeakers to the audience, Ross, Ivan, and Dickinson quietly got up and left.

“We will achieve ultimate victory! We will utterly annihilate the enemy beyond our nation’s borders and liberate all the people who have suffered under the oppression of the nobles and the slaughter of the non-human races!”

The young staff officer couldn’t help but turn and look back at the stage, his gaze piercing through the dense crowd to lock onto the actor’s raised, clenched fist.

For some reason, he didn’t feel it was just an empty slogan or a line from a play, but something that in the near future…

…was an ideal and a goal they would surely achieve.

Chapter 597: A Frank Discussion About the Future

The Victory Day celebration lasted late into the night. Long after the crowds in Monument Square had dispersed, three spellcasters in classical robes slowly crossed the theatrical stage as it was being dismantled, bypassed the obelisk, and entered the New Federation building behind it.

The lights on the top floor of the landmark building remained on all night.

Legendary Chiefs Salas and Dawson had dismissed the other members of the research team, who had been busy all day, and were waiting for Spellshield, Son of Flame, and Stormwalker to arrive.

Needless to say, the five people present were not only high-ranking members of the Federation of Casters but also the founding members of the Magic Net Forum.

“What do you three think?” Dawson didn’t bother casting a defensive spell to prevent eavesdropping, instead getting straight to the point. “Can the New Federation replace the old system and lead spellcasters back to the correct path of pursuing truth?”

The question touched upon a truly immense proposition. The three high-rank spellcasters were stunned, none daring to be the first to answer.

Salas stood motionless before the bright, floor-to-ceiling windows, his eyes slightly closed, his face devoid of expression.

Son of Flame, who hadn’t seen his “teacher” in a private setting for a long time, wasn’t fazed. He spread his hands and said, “What is the correct path, anyway? Even the two Chiefs don’t know, let alone anyone else… Compared to that rotten Federation and those foolish magic politicians, all I know is that when faced with the crisis of a non-human invasion, we won the first battle.”

Dawson rolled his eyes irritably. “But your performance was worse than those mortal soldiers. Even if Gallagher himself were here, I’m sure he’d be ashamed to see the illustrious reputation of the Mage Corps dragged through the mud.”

Spellshield coughed lightly and quickly intervened to smooth things over. “Chief Excellency, since it was a joint operation, we shouldn’t make such distinctions… In His Majesty Harvey’s eyes, the contributions of the battle mages and the soldiers were equally important.”

That much was true. Although everyone knew better in private, the supreme ruler of the United Kingdom did publicly adhere to the promises and standards of the “Equal United Front”… Judging from the Victory Day celebration that had just concluded, the mages who participated in the battle also had the chance to take the stage and receive commendations for their service, and the public was not stingy with their praise and admiration.

It was just that they had never been so close to mortal society before… Whether it was fighting Demons in the Evil Moon Mountain Range for decades on end, or quelling the occasional Demonic beast incursions throughout the nations of the south, spellcasters—whether from the Federation or the seven wizard kingdoms—had always been seen by commoners as paragons of the transcendent and mysterious.

This clear class division, born from the disparity in power and wisdom, was even greater than the divide between commoners and nobles.

Stormwalker mulled it over for a long while before speaking in a low voice, “That’s right. In the past, we firmly believed that only spellcasters, with their transcendent power, could shoulder the grim mission of fighting the non-human races and ensuring the survival of our people… Many of our colleagues who sacrificed their lives on the battlefield against the Demons believed so as well. But the facts have proven that the enemy we now face is vastly different from the Church or the Demons of the past. With the power of spellcasters alone… I fear we are destined for failure.”

The Demonic Lizardmen’s innate magic resistance was a powerful counter to spellcasters. On the front lines, even high-rank battle mages struggled to gain an advantage against them. What’s more, the enemy was numerous and fought with a complete disregard for casualties. Compared to mages, who required decades of careful training to be battle-ready, the magical superiority human transcendents once relied upon was gone.

Salas suddenly let out a long sigh of relief. He turned and smiled faintly. “Perhaps it is time for us to lay down our burdens, to cast off our so-called transcendent pride and airs, and to truly fight shoulder to shoulder with mortals… The so-called path of truth is not a path for spellcasters alone, but the future for all of humankind.”

As he spoke, Spellshield immediately felt a wave of relief, realizing that the Legendary Chief had officially elevated his stance on their private decision to follow Harvey from tacit approval to public endorsement.

This wasn’t truly a debate about truth or ideals. With the Church weakened and the Demons in retreat, the dire situation of the non-human invasion truly demanded a new organization for spellcasters, one that could build a better order upon the rotten foundations of the old Federation.

A long-awaited sense of liberation washed over him…

Looking up at the two Legendary Casters again, it dawned on him that they seemed to have shed their former, unapproachable aura of authority. They had become more like trustworthy and reliable pure researchers—leaders who would guide the spellcasters of a new era back onto the correct path.

And he… he too could finally break free from the political shell of a high-ranking Federation official. His old craving for power and position no longer seemed important. The magical laboratory, a place he hadn’t set foot in for so long… seemed to be reigniting his passion.

“Chief, I’m planning to apply to His Majesty Harvey to join the Academy of Sciences… in my personal capacity.”

Dawson chuckled and nodded. “Be my guest… Compared to the Demonic Lizardman research group the New Federation just formed, those Necromancers—oh, no! I should call them Soul Mages now—their research projects and subjects are clearly more valuable and appealing.”

Research into the Demonic Lizardmen and their Floating Island fortresses had started far too late… and had made minimal progress. For research mages joining on an individual basis, it held very little appeal.

After speaking, he turned to Son of Flame and Stormwalker and asked with a smile, “What about you two? His Majesty Harvey is also establishing spellcaster combat units. He plans to completely break up the battle mages and integrate them into his mortal army on an equal footing. Can you accept that?”

Son of Flame shrugged, a smug look on his face. “Why not? My performance at the Battle of Great Bear Lake speaks for itself. The Northern Army’s special operations team has already extended an olive branch.”

Stormwalker also said in a grave tone, “I plan to join the independent air combat regiment.”

After the three former high-ranking Federation members announced their choices and future plans, the atmosphere suddenly grew awkward—

What about the two Chiefs?

Were they going to serve as the old Federation’s Legendary “mascots” from afar while also personally managing the New Federation on behalf of the Northern Emperor?

Serving as the supreme leaders of two powerful wizard organizations at the same time… If word of that got out, it would surely cause a massive upheaval in the magical world. What would the high council of the seven wizard kingdoms think? How would the various wizard families in the south react?

Before they could ask, a single, nonchalant sentence from Salas left them utterly stunned.

“Gallagher will lead the Mage Corps loyal to him and declare their withdrawal from the Federation and the Blackstone City wizard coalition… They will become the New Federation’s independent battle group, stationed in the Evil Moon Mountain Range.”

“As for Dawson and I…” he chuckled. “We will resign from our positions as Chiefs and, as honorary Speakers of the New Federation, plant our roots firmly in the Northern Realm.”

Chapter 598: Aberrant Advancement

“Resign as Chiefs?” Spellshield found himself stammering. “But… but the Federation can’t be without its Chiefs. Without Legendary Casters in charge, those magic politicians, who are already stirring up trouble, will probably drop all pretenses and start fighting openly amongst themselves.”

The Federation of Casters was formed over a hundred years ago from the High Wizard Council, and nearly ninety-nine percent of the people in its numerous internal factions came from wizard family backgrounds.

“They haven’t stopped their backroom struggles even with us here… Heh. Tripping each other up, false accusations, academic suppression, even escalating to assassinations and revenge killings. What’s the difference, really?”

It was just a matter of bringing the covert struggles out into the open…

“Once we step down, they will undoubtedly eye the vacant Chief positions covetously. When they’re busy scrambling for power, they won’t be in a position to obstruct the New Federation’s development.”

So that was it. Spellshield nodded to himself. The three Chiefs planned to let them be so consumed by infighting that they couldn’t bother with anything else. In any case, these stubborn, old-fashioned fellows would never serve the Northern Realm; it was better to just let them destroy their own foundations.

Salas had no intention of dwelling on the topic. He slowly walked to the Planet-level Energy-gathering Array and placed his hand on its smooth brass casing. “I seem to recall… that His Majesty Harvey was already a high-level caster before he joined the Magic Net Forum and officially became an agent, correct?”

Spellshield’s heart tightened. He responded with confusion, “That’s beyond question. Since its founding, the Forum has only ever invited powerful members of high-rank or above to join.”

Of course, as many of the small groups within the Forum grew stronger, a few “pseudo-high-rank” casters had appeared—those who were qualified for advancement but whose magical runes hadn’t fully stabilized yet. Most of them were recommended and vouched for by their group leaders, a sort of “backdoor entry” to secure a spot in advance.

The Administrator and the Observer had tacitly approved of this. As the agent, Harvey was swamped with countless tasks in the real world and likely bore certain missions given to him by the Forum, so he wouldn’t interfere in such minor squabbles.

“Do you two Excellencies suspect he’s beyond high-rank?” Stormwalker said, feeling how ridiculous it sounded even as the words left his mouth. “Advancement to Legendary is an incredibly difficult path, a one-in-ten-thousand chance. Among the Humans of the south, you can count beings like the two of you on one hand, to say nothing of an absolute anomaly like His Excellency Gallagher.”

Dawson narrowed his eyes, directly revealing his old friend’s secret. “Gallagher walks the Path of the Dragon Chaser of the ancient wizards, which is completely different from ours… But I am one hundred percent certain that Harvey didn’t advance through that method.”

The Son of Flame couldn’t hold it in any longer. He threw up his hands in exasperation, saying angrily, “Your Excellencies! Why are we questioning an ally and companion who has welcomed us with open arms and cooperated without reservation? What difference does it make if he’s high-rank or Legendary? As long as he can lead Human spellcasters down the right path and command the nations of the south against our non-human enemies, that’s enough!”

In Fell Hoden’s view, the rank of a research mage made no difference to him. It just meant burying their heads in the Laboratory all day, conducting various studies, and fiddling with alchemical instruments and magical materials… Of course, a Legendary research mage did have some advantages beyond the reach of ordinary people. Although not skilled in combat, their vast and immense mental energy and mana reserves were enough to let them beat a Fire Mage black and blue with just a stack of documents.

Under the absolute suppression of mana and rank, fancy and complex high-circle attack spells were sometimes ineffective.

Salas turned his gaze to his former “disciple.” An invisible pressure forced the other man to avert his eyes before Salas said lightly, “So? A new guide… and we old relics should just be buried, is that it?”

Seeing the two were on the verge of bickering, Dawson quickly stepped in to smooth things over.

“Ahem… Although Salas and I have advanced to the Legendary-rank, we are still limited by our own lifespans. Besides, you know very well… that because of his Soul-Splitting Sickness, even though Salas was lucky enough to be rescued and escape, he is now essentially trapped near the energy-gathering array, unable to be free. The cage has merely moved from the underground mine to the larger, more prosperous Starfire City.”

He paused, then said with some melancholy, “As for me, I’m about the same age as him. Though I’ve always been cautious and avoided courting death… a mortal’s life has its limits. Before that day comes, I hope to truly fulfill the ambition I’ve long pursued.”

To create an entirely new school of casting, completely separate from the existing system of magical development.

And Harvey’s soul spellcasting, which he single-handedly created from the school of necromancy… seemed to be showing early signs of becoming just that.

“Therefore, Harvey’s strength and background are of utmost importance to us… Although it’s hard to admit, as Legendary Casters, we do need something from His Majesty the Emperor and the agent.”

Spellshield had a sudden realization and quickly said, “So you two suspect that His Majesty Harvey… has already secretly advanced to the Legendary-rank? Forgive me for being blunt, but that’s really hard to believe.”

Salas shook his head, a rare trace of confusion in his slightly narrowed eyes. “Dawson is the most skilled at mental probing. Although directly trying to sense another’s secrets is considered rude and offensive by most… we did both use our own imperceptible methods to secretly…”

Huh? Upon hearing this, the Son of Flame and the other two gaped in astonishment. Have the Chiefs gone senile? Even if they didn’t care about his worldly power and status as Emperor, to make a move on the agent designated by the two mysterious beings behind the Forum, right in front of them, would almost certainly provoke their full wrath!

Dawson frowned and cut in directly, “He’s empty!”

“Empty?” Spellshield swallowed and replied dryly, “Harvey usually operates through a soul puppet, a lifeless husk. Of course it’s empty.”

Salas chuckled softly and said faintly, “You think we don’t know the puppet he controls is an empty shell? I’m talking about… his flesh-and-blood true self.”

“His true self is empty? What does that mean?” the Son of Flame asked, unable to stop himself, a mix of shock and fear in his voice. “Has Harvey’s body been possessed by some external entity? No, that can’t be… Could it be, could it be the two behind the Forum…”

Dawson waved his hand and explained patiently, “No, his body hasn’t been possessed. I can confirm he is still himself… It’s just that Salas and I couldn’t sense… the barrier of mana on him.”

The so-called barrier of mana is actually the greatest obstacle a spellcaster is certain to encounter during rank advancement. It’s a fundamental rule of the Magic Net in other dimensions that no one can evade. The slightest misstep will not only lead to an immediate failure of advancement but could even cause mana decay and incurable hidden injuries.

“We can’t perceive his rank. It’s as if other people’s bodies contain a spiral staircase, but what Dawson and I see is a twisted, yet endless, smooth path… as if his magical runes never needed to be constructed, and his mana circle was never reshaped.”

Salas mulled it over for a moment before slowly revealing the truth that had left even him bewildered.

Chapter 599: An Overture for Peace

Isengard, the capital, Ironhill.

“Your Highness the Prince Regent! An urgent dispatch from Baron Ramirez of Burning Wind Fortress!” A personal guard knight rushed into the main hall of the Royal Palace, handing a secret letter, just removed from an eagle’s leg, to Prince Andrew, who was seated upon the throne.

In an instant, all the nobles turned their eyes to the Prince Regent, waiting in silence for his reaction.

“Ramirez sent three cavalry scout parties to the Wolf Fang Ridge area, and all reports say… St. Valen’s army has made no unusual movements.”

Andrew crumpled the letter in his hand and tossed it at his feet. He slapped the armrest of the throne and stood up, surveying the hall. “I imagine,” he said in a low voice, “that newly enthroned Emperor of St. Valen knows he won’t gain much from us with just a few thousand troops.”

Standing at the foot of the dais, the Council Minister asked with a puzzled expression, “Then why are they still entrenched in the Wolf Fang Ridge area? They neither declare war nor withdraw… Are they just going to keep their army there, pointlessly consuming supplies?”

Prince Andrew shook his head, then spoke through gritted teeth, “Their plan from the very beginning was to attack without a declaration of war. They rashly sent a surprise force to launch a rapid raid on the border, then seized Highland City, the closest city to Wolf Fang Ridge. They’ve been maneuvering their way north… They’re simply trying to contact The Rootless People entrenched in the Northern Desert, to incite a civil war in our kingdom… and profit from the chaos.”

Andrew was well aware of what this Emperor of St. Valen had done in the Barkley Duchy.

Launching lightning raids against the nobles on a neighboring country’s border, plundering vast amounts of their wealth and slaves—it was the shameless act of a barbaric robber.

“And he even took the opportunity to lure in the non-human enemy from north of the Spine of the Continent Mountains. That’s how Belek fell so defenselessly! Even the Duke of Belek himself…”

At this thought, Prince Andrew couldn’t help but feel a flicker of secret delight. Although Duke of Belek was just a Border Grand Duke, in terms of both his illustrious lineage and his personal ability, he was a genuine candidate for the throne. Isengard was different from the other nations of the south; its kingship was not hereditary. Instead, the King was jointly selected by the Church and the country’s own council of high nobles.

Although Andrew had indefinitely postponed the royal election after seizing power, the sudden death of a powerful competitor was undeniably a good thing for him.

Isengard was a vast country, half grassland and half desert. The few oases were mostly scattered across the northern part of the kingdom, while the southeastern border was predominantly mountainous, making it a typical landlocked and isolated nation.

Furthermore, Belek and the capital, Ironhill, were separated by nearly five hundred kilometers of desert, connected by only a few trade routes. As a result, news of the city’s fall had been delayed by almost a full month.

The formal dispatch that the St. Valen people had sent him earlier contained an equally absurd message—something about a great non-human enemy from the north about to invade the south, about Demonic Lizardmen leaving no life in their wake, and that they must quickly organize a southward migration of their people while preparing to fight off the non-human race…

What a joke! What great non-human enemy could there be north of the Spine of the Gods Mountains? Weren’t they just the vile orcs who occasionally crossed the imposing mountains to plunder the northern border? What terrible disaster could those damn savage tribes bring to the south?

They weren’t even worth dispatching an elite hussar unit to clean up. Not only was the journey long and costly, but what good would it do to drive them out and slaughter them? They would just make a comeback the following year…

Besides, it was only the rootless tribes in the borderlands who suffered.

The Council Minister pondered for a moment before cautiously proposing, “But the vile orcs’ invasion is much more ferocious this time than in the past. Belek’s fall was no accident. We should still take some measures, after all…”

He was right. After all, in the vast desert east of Belek, one would pass through several small oasis settlements. Although these settlements were not heavily populated and had no high walls or strong fortifications, they held gold and gem mines that were of vital importance to the kingdom.

Many of these were, in fact, Prince Andrew’s personal property and could not be treated carelessly.

“Fine… Even a horde of vile orcs on a bloodthirsty rampage can’t stir up much of a storm. Dispatch a thousand Ironhill Hussars. Half a month should be more than enough for them to clean things up.”

Andrew raised a hand, ordering his personal guard to relay the command. At the same time, he feigned regret, adding, “Also, have them send a detachment to Belek to reclaim the city ravaged by the vile orcs. See if any descendants of the ducal family survived and need to be resettled… Sigh, His Majesty is mad and cannot manage affairs of state. Before the royal election… I’m afraid we must first consider the matter of the Duke of Belek’s successor.”

One didn’t even need to think too deeply about his words to understand their naked intent: the Prince Regent wanted to use this as an opportunity to cut the weeds and eliminate the roots. The nobles below understood perfectly, but under the weight of his authority, none dared to speak up.

For Prince Andrew, using the King’s sudden madness as a pretext to seize control of the capital, Ironhill, was tantamount to controlling most of Isengard. With five thousand elite Ironhill Hussars at his command… as long as the King still drew breath, he had a reason to indefinitely delay the royal election and slowly eliminate his many rivals for the throne.

At this critical juncture, whether it was the vile orcs ravaging the northern border or St. Valen’s unprovoked trespass, avoiding a full-blown war was the best option.

Andrew motioned for the Court Scholar to approach and asked in a low voice, “Has the messenger sent to the Holy City not returned with news? Is His Holiness the Pope still refusing to see him? What is Bishop Bamoa’s stance?”

The scholar quickly whispered back, “No news has returned yet… After the Spear of Radiance was defeated in the capital of St. Valen, His Excellency the Bishop likely vented his anger on the Divine Punishment Faction within the Army of Judgment. The only two Army of Judgment legions remaining in the country have now been completely withdrawn and have returned to garrison in Goris.”

The Holy See, which had always maintained close ties with Isengard’s royal family, had suddenly withdrawn all its forces. On one hand, this provided Andrew with a golden opportunity to consolidate control. On the other… it was a naked display of their disapproval of his rash seizure of power.

Andrew snorted coldly. “Since the people of St. Valen have no intention of leaving Wolf Fang Ridge… perhaps contacting them to negotiate would be a good option.”

If he couldn’t get the Church’s support, he could always try to win over some secular kingdoms that openly opposed them. Isn’t St. Valen currently ruled by a wizard emperor? He would extend an olive branch to him…

“Draft a letter with my regent’s sigil and send it to St. Valen. Tell His Majesty the Emperor that if he has no intention of invading Isengard… I can cede Wolf Fang Ridge to him directly. They can even send troops to garrison the nearby Highland City.”

Didn’t he just want a border pass completely under his control so he could plunder the gold, gems, and population of The Rootless People from the surrounding noble territories?

Andrew considered this a price he could afford to pay to achieve a temporary alliance.

Chapter 600: The Doom of the Hussars

The sky was grim, a thick layer of clouds obscuring the early spring sun.

A troop of cavalry in gleaming armor galloped across the vast grasslands. The leading knight wore a gray-black cloak, flanked by two personal guards who held high the banners bearing the coat of arms of the Ironhill Knight Regiment.

The mighty column soon arrived at a riverbank. At the commander’s order, they dismounted but did not intend to make camp and rest. This rushing waterway, known as the Shatlan River, was over a hundred meters wide, a silent, flowing ribbon of silver-white silk stretched across the boundless prairie.

“Shatlan” was also the word for “mother” in the ancient language of the people of Isengard.

The river had just thawed from the winter chill, and its waters had risen dramatically. Murky waves, carrying mud, sand, and broken logs washed down from afar, surged downstream with an almost tyrannical force.

The cavalry’s destination was Oasis City, located over five kilometers upstream on the Shatlan River. Under the orders of His Highness the Prince Regent Andrew, they were to arrive at Oasis City for a short-term garrison, patrolling the desert’s edge and clearing out the vile orcs that had strayed into the kingdom’s heartland.

“My lord, we’ve really been dealt a bad hand this time. We’ve been sent to this godforsaken Oasis City based on nothing more than the Council Minister’s speculation. Belek is a great distance away… I doubt we’ll even see the shadow of a single vile orc in this area.”

A personal guard, handing a waterskin to the cavalry commander, leaned in and complained in a low voice.

Betnis took the waterskin, frowned slightly, and said coolly, “It seems to me you’ve all grown soft and undisciplined in the capital, unwilling to leave the warm comforts of the brothels. You even dare to casually criticize the Prince Regent’s orders behind his back.”

With that, he stood up and stretched his shoulders and back. It had been a long time since he had led his troops on a campaign, and even he, the commander of the cavalry regiment, had neglected his training. The armor felt somewhat burdensome on his body.

But the Ironhill Hussars had their traditions. Until they reached their destination and set up camp, they were not permitted to remove their armor, even when dismounted for a rest. To truly relax, they would have to wait until they reached Oasis City.

Betnis took a few casual sips of water and was about to order his men to set off again when his beloved warhorse suddenly threw its head back, twitched its ears, and snorted loudly at its surroundings.

A faint, subtle scent of blood hung in the air.

“My lord! Look at the river! There are… there are dead people, a lot of bodies floating down from upstream!”

Hearing this, Betnis focused his gaze on the surging river. Sure enough, dozens of corpses were floating face-up, carried swiftly downstream by the muddy current.

The bodies were coming from upstream…

He immediately sensed that something was wrong. Leaning on his longsword, he barked, “All of you, mount up! We ride for Oasis City at once!”

Before the knights could react, the ground beneath their feet began to tremble slightly. The horses, startled, neighed incessantly. A few personal guards had to pull on their reins with all their might just to keep the animals from breaking free and bolting in terror.

Swoosh—

The sharp whistle of a blade cutting through the air suddenly came from the river. Though Betnis had his back to the water, he drew his sword in the nick of time, twisted his body, and swung.

Clang—

With a deafening shriek of metal on metal, an ink-black spear that had come from nowhere was knocked aside by his longsword and plunged halfway into the ground.

Betnis, however, stumbled back several steps, the force of the impact nearly wrenching the weapon from his grasp.

The next moment, dozens of black figures suddenly emerged from the murky river water. Unfurling fleshy wings that spanned several meters, they lunged toward the riverbank, each clutching a spear just like the one that had just ambushed the commander.

“Fire!”

Startled by their commander’s sharp cry, the knights snapped to their senses, grabbed the hand crossbows from their horses, aimed at the enemies swooping down from the sky, and pulled the triggers. Dozens of crossbow bolts buzzed through the air, shooting straight for the winged monsters.

But the volley of crossbow bolts, which had always been devastatingly effective in past battles, was nonchalantly batted aside by the monsters with sweeps of their spears.

The men could hardly believe what they were seeing. Before Betnis could issue his next command, the enemies raised their spears and answered with a volley of their own.

The javelins flew with the speed of lightning. The heavily armored knights had no time to roll and dodge. They were speared straight through, man and armor alike, the powerful attack even pinning them to the ground. Their breastplates shattered into pieces, and they died before they could even scream.

In just one volley of javelins, a great number of the heavily armored knights standing near the river’s edge fell. Many of them died without even having had the time to unhitch the shields from their horses.

Betnis gritted his teeth and activated his bloodline power, once again swinging his sword to deflect two spears aimed directly at him. Finally, he could bear it no longer as the webbing between his thumb and forefinger split open, and his longsword flew from his hand.

Though a seasoned warrior of exceptional skill, his awakened bloodline talent was not a strength-based one. It was the most common of low-tier talents: “Affinity”—the ability to share a mental link with his warhorse, achieving a near-perfect unity of horse and rider in a charge.

Just as he was about to draw the short sword at his waist, he looked up and saw one of the winged monsters hovering in the sky suddenly raise a hand toward him… A dazzlingly bright red light was gathering in its palm.

For the thousand-plus Ironhill Hussars, the battle on the riverbank was like a sudden, waking nightmare.

More twisted, dark-skinned monsters continuously emerged from the river. Some took to the sky on their wings, while others materialized weapons in their hands the moment they crawled ashore and joined the fight. Whether in numbers or individual combat strength, the creatures held an overwhelming advantage over this group of elite mortal knights.

It was less a chaotic battle and more of a one-sided slaughter.

Especially after their commander, Betnis, the only one among them with a low-tier bloodline power, was killed, the soldiers’ will began to crumble. They were easily impaled on the Demonic Lizardmen’s spears or blasted into bloody chunks of flesh by bolts of red-light lightning.

In less than half an hour, the riverbank was soaked in viscous blood. The dying, not yet dead, continued to wail. Those who threw down their weapons and attempted to flee were quickly chased down by the Winged ones and dispatched with ease. In the chaos, some even panicked and leaped directly into the river, sinking straight to the bottom in their full suits of steel armor.

At some point, the knightly banner, which had been planted in the ground, had toppled over. Its emblem, depicting two crossed longswords and a sun, was smeared with blood and mud.

The mingled scents of blood and rust turned the riverbank into an absolute Hell.

The rushing river brought more bloated corpses down from upstream, which drifted onward. If one looked closely, one could vaguely see several thick columns of smoke rising straight into the sky from the direction of Oasis City, over five kilometers away, as if the entire oasis was engulfed in a massive sea of fire.

Chapter 601: The Incomplete Sea Chart

Gutres strode into Harvey’s office and knelt on one knee. “Your Majesty, the Northern Realm Navy’s special operations unit has successfully completed its mission to the south. I have returned to report.”

Proulx and Xilisi, who had accompanied him to the Southern Seas, also bowed in salute.

Harvey gestured for him to rise, a surprised and pleased look on his face. “You’ve obtained the complete sea chart?” he pressed.

The Major carefully placed the box he was holding on Harvey’s desk. It was a box exquisitely carved entirely from gem coral, its value apparent from its appearance alone. If it were presented to the nobles of the southern nations, it would surely fetch a sky-high price.

But Harvey had no time to admire the craftsmanship. He opened the box and found, as he had hoped, a leather scroll that had clearly been stitched together from many pieces. He spread it out on the desk, only to discover that two corners were missing.

“The chart is still incomplete…”

Xilisi nodded and quickly stepped forward to explain, “There were two Abyssal Sea-folk settlements that, while willing to ally with us, had long since lost their inherited fragments of the sea chart. They are likely impossible to find.”

Fortunately, the two missing sections were located at the southeastern corner and the western edge of the southern continent, areas controlled by the Burrowing Dwarves and the Demons, respectively. They were of relatively minor importance.

Harvey stared at the chart for a moment, finally getting a general sense of the map of the underground waterways. He pointed to a thick line drawn with a silver mineral dye, located in the due north section.

“This is… the Icefield River, originating from the Spine of the Continent Mountains, correct?”

“This is the Shatlan River in Isengard. In that case… this part must be the underground lake at the Great Fissure!”

Proulx added with a smile, “Your Majesty’s guess is spot on. The silver lines depict surface water systems, while the black ones represent underground systems. The Shatlan, for instance, is a river that sometimes flows above ground and sometimes submerges.”

Everyone’s gaze followed Harvey’s finger, tracing the thin silver line of the Icefield River northward until it reached the general area of Great Bear Lake. There, just as expected, they saw a thick black line connecting it to a large black patch near the edge of the map.

“Just as we suspected, the Ice Sea not only connects directly to Great Bear Lake, but it also has countless tributaries extending to the northwest. That’s how they were able to secretly reach the Isengard Great Fissure.”

Unfortunately, the Sea-folk’s crude and primitive mapping techniques made it impossible to accurately determine the scale of the underground waterways. After all, their people only needed to know the general direction of the routes. Their so-called migratory advancement ritual was nothing more than a solo expedition for a few priest candidates. Any place they could swim through could be drawn as a reference route.

The Demonic Lizardmen’s Floating Island fortress, however, was enormous. Not all the routes marked on the chart would be large enough for it to travel through while submerged.

For now, Harvey could only confirm two existing routes: Ice Sea to Great Bear Lake, and Ice Sea to the Isengard Great Fissure.

“Pierce and his men have just finished their inspection and deployment of military armaments at the Ice Sea Base. Go summon the generals from the Ministry of Defense. We may need to hold a meeting to discuss this.”

…

A personal guard received the Emperor’s order and hurried away.

With a moment to spare, Harvey changed the subject, smiling at Gutres. “Tell me, how did you all manage to get so many sea chart fragments from them so quickly?”

It couldn’t be that they had just sailed a few warships over, blasted open the gates of the Coral Holy City with their cannons, and forcibly snatched the charts from them, could it?

Gutres straightened his military uniform and replied in a formal tone, “Your Majesty, we won the God-Worshipping Duel for the Coral Sea-folk, and while we were at it, we helped the Abyssal Sea-folk deal with a savage sea beast that was plaguing several of their tribes.”

Harvey paused, surprised. “It… was that simple? You managed to accomplish so much in less than a month?”

Xilisi said with a grin, “The Major and his naval soldiers are very efficient. In truth, it wasn’t all smooth sailing…”

When the three ironclad warships had first set off for the south, their holds had been fully loaded with artillery and ammunition, as well as plenty of supplies. They had brought both the carrot and the stick, so to speak.

But when they arrived at the Coral Holy City, they found that the two Sea-folk tribes were facing an external crisis that had spread throughout the entire sea—a school of giant, demonized horned sharks had accidentally migrated to the edge of their territory and were now rampaging through the settlements of several tribes. These giant sea beasts not only destroyed the schools of fish they farmed within their coral enclosures but also began to see the Sea-folk themselves as prey to be hunted and killed.

The Abyssal and Coral tribes had set aside their differences in a rare alliance to fight the invading horde of demonized beasts. Unfortunately, their people were weak, and their already scarce priests were no match for the demonized horned sharks. If the Northern Realm Navy hadn’t arrived when they did, they probably would have already abandoned the Holy City and migrated toward the coast of Faros to seek temporary refuge.

“We used an Airship to pinpoint the location of the mother shark from the air, and then a volley from the naval cannons killed it on the spot. The rest of the shark school was no match for the bombardment of machine guns and beam weapons. The remnants that dove into the deep water became perfect training targets for the submarine.”

A hint of pride was evident in Gutres’s voice. The Navy, which had long been the butt of private jokes and gossip for the Army, had finally made a name for itself in a single battle, truly demonstrating their combat prowess on the high seas.

This decisive act of assistance naturally earned them the respect and goodwill of the Sea-folk. Coupled with the long-standing cooperative relationship that the Necromantic Cult—which Xilisi and Proulx had belonged to—had with the Sea-folk, it took only a sincere discussion for the temporarily allied Coral and Abyssal tribes to jointly decide to hold the next God-Worshipping Duel ahead of schedule.

Regardless of the outcome, as long as the Northern Realm Navy could retrieve the holy artifact for them from the sea abyss, they would willingly shake hands and make peace, sharing the treasured sea chart fragments from their respective tribes.

“What is this holy artifact that they value so much, that they must send their best warriors into the sea abyss to retrieve it every so often?” Harvey’s curiosity was thoroughly piqued, and he couldn’t help but ask.

Xilisi and Proulx exchanged a glance, both wearing an odd expression. “That thing looked like nothing more than an ordinary piece of coral stone, but it seems to have been eroded by some special magical substance for a long time, so it has its own unique mana fluctuation. The Sea-folk rely on this property to lure large schools of fish closer for their people to catch and eat.”

It sounded like a “lure-stone” with magical properties.

Of course, the two former Necromancers, having just changed their professions, were not skilled in deep-sea diving. In the end, the one who completed the ritual was Gutres, who remotely piloted a reinforced submarine. It easily reached a depth of nearly a thousand meters and retrieved a designated holy coral stone for the Sea-folk.

“The bottom of that long, narrow, and deep sea abyss was lined with glowing coral stones embedded in the cliff walls. We didn’t have to search at all. We just used the retrieval claw to knock a piece off and resurfaced,” Gutres said, finding it somewhat amusing. The sacred tradition the Sea-folk had practiced for hundreds, even thousands of years, was simply to dive into the deep sea and retrieve a lure-stone.

But from their accounts, Harvey sensed that something was slightly amiss.

“If a submarine can reach that area so easily, why don’t they send their priests, who are equally skilled in water magic, down there?”

Unless, it was a place with a unique geographical location, one that naturally possessed an Anti-Magic Domain, making it completely impossible for a Spellcaster to reach.

Chapter 602: The Strange Dotted Line

Since Harvey’s ascension and coronation, the Obsidian Castle where he had long resided had undergone several rounds of expansion. Although its footprint was always strictly regulated to ensure it didn’t encroach on other municipal facilities in the inner city, the overall scale of the complex had at least doubled.

Even the populace had long since changed what they called it, referring to the dark black architectural cluster on the inner city’s high ground as “His Majesty’s Imperial Palace.”

In the new conference hall of the “Imperial Palace,” the senior military and municipal officials summoned by the Emperor did not look pleased. The Abyssal Sea Chart, just decoded and deciphered by the adjacent secretary’s office, had been distributed among them… and a sharp-eyed individual had immediately spotted a “dotted line” hidden within the intricate patterns of the map, located in the middle of the southern continent and cutting across the Spine of the Continent Mountains.

“As the first person to see this chart, I didn’t notice the existence of this dotted line right away either…” Harvey tapped the enlarged map laid out before him with his hand. “Let’s hear everyone’s opinion. Tell me what you think this line represents.”

Astaren pondered for a moment before speaking first. “I have already instructed the Intelligence Department to immediately contact the branch office still stationed in the Coral Holy City. They will directly ask the knowledgeable leaders and priests of the Sea-folk. We may get a reply soon.”

Pierce subconsciously lifted the glass of red liquid by his hand, took a sip, and said slowly, “As Your Majesty said, silver represents surface water systems, and black represents the flow of underground rivers… Could the dotted line, then, be an underground passage with no water flowing through it?”

Rainer let out a breath of relief and quickly added, “If it’s an underground passage without water, that at least means the Demonic Lizardmen can’t use their Floating Islands for submerged travel to cross the Spine of the Continent Mountains and reach our rear area without anyone knowing.”

However, very few responded to this rather optimistic statement.

Harvey stood up and pointed to the map of the entire realm hanging on the wall, comparing it with the sea chart. “If the decoding was not mistaken, after crossing the Spine of the Continent Mountains, the end of this dotted line… is the Holy City of Goris.”

The Sea-folk had never believed in the Radiant God. Even for an exploratory pilgrimage along an underground migration route, there was no way they would have ended up at the doorstep of the Papal State.

Dawson rubbed his red nose and chuckled. “Perhaps the Sea-folk originally planned to use this natural underground passage to sneak to the catacombs of the Radiant Cathedral, invade the Holy City, and destroy the infidels they so despise.”

This was clearly a jest meant to ease the tense atmosphere. Everyone knew the Sea-folk were weak in combat. Forget about counter-attacking the Holy City… a single soldier from the Army of Judgment could probably pick up a weapon and crush ten Coral People.

Salas, however, shook his head and looked at Harvey meaningfully. “If the Demonic Lizardmen discover this route, Goris will likely be in imminent danger… Your Majesty, do you think we should warn the Church in advance?”

Before Harvey could respond, the Son of Flame, sitting several seats down the table, made a gulping sound. “I’d love for the Demonic Lizardmen to raid Goris directly and blast those holy rollers’ Radiant Cathedral to bits with their concentrated red light… Mmph… Mmph…”

The Spellshield sitting beside him acted fast, clapping a hand over his colleague’s mouth and hastily trying to amend the statement, “But the City of Grace is still home to tens of thousands of mortals. Those ordinary followers, deceived by the Church, are innocent. They shouldn’t be subjected to a senseless slaughter by a non-human race.”

The Spellcasters who were formally participating in this high-level meeting today were all individuals whose positions were clear and who had actively chosen to join Harvey’s camp… They were naturally aware, after countless live specimen damage tests on Demonic Lizardmen captives, that it had been accurately verified and meticulously documented that this non-human race was not only naturally immune to magic, but the strange hide on their bodies could also resist the divine arts of the Church!

This meant that the large number of battle priests trained by the City of Grace would be almost no different from weak mortals when facing an attack from the Demonic Lizardmen. Without magical energy weapons, the resistance that bloodline knights could offer would also be negligible.

If they were to face an enemy force of equal numbers, this group of pious, fearless Church warriors… would be nothing more than “cannon fodder” for the blasts of concentrated red light and black water weapons.

An unexpected “leak” had suddenly appeared in the previously anticipated “three lines of defense,” instantly plunging Harvey into anxiety. He felt like a paperhanger, constantly running around trying to patch up leaks along the natural barrier of the Spine of the Continent Mountains.

He pinched the bridge of his throbbing nose and turned to ask Astaren, “What is the situation with that Secret Intercessor of the Pope, Priest Garrett?”

“He’s living alone in a room arranged for him by the Department of State. He remains as stubborn and silent as ever, asking for nothing more than fresh water and coarse bread each day.”

Harvey sighed, speechless. “After the meeting, send someone to bring him to me.”

Pierce was taken aback, saying in surprise, “Your Majesty really plans to warn the Pope? The Holy City probably won’t believe our intelligence at all. If the dotted line represents a passage without water, the Floating Island fortress can’t travel submerged through the Spine of the Continent Mountains. And if the Demonic Lizardmen plan to cross on foot from underground… they shouldn’t be able to bring a large force all the way to Goris on a long-range raid, right?”

This deduction received a fair amount of agreement. Between Goris and St. Valen lay the Alyrid Duchy, a mountainous kingdom in the central part of the southern continent. The direct distance between the two cities was only between three hundred fifty and four hundred kilometers, but the terrain was rugged, making travel over the mountains extremely difficult.

The City of Grace, on the other hand, was not far from the Spine of the Continent Mountains. According to precise calculations by the survey department, the entire dotted line running from north to south was just a little over one hundred fifty kilometers long. It was obvious which was closer.

Harvey turned his gaze toward the group of high-ranking military officers below Pierce. “What are your thoughts?”

Vaughn stood up and responded in a deep voice, “Your Majesty, I believe the most suitable course of action is to conquer the Alyrid Duchy and station our troops directly on the border of Goris. If the Demonic Lizardmen invade the Holy City, we can then dispatch reinforcements and plug this leak.”

It was obvious that, driven by the war-hawk faction’s natural desire for expansion, they intended to use this opportunity to annex the long-coveted Alyrid Duchy into the United Kingdom’s territory, even if the Demonic Lizardmen never appeared. Vaughn’s statement perfectly represented the true objective of the military faction.

Hearing this, Harvey gave a helpless smile. “Alright, then. Regardless of whether the Holy City believes our warning, and regardless of whether the Demonic Lizardmen will actually emerge from that dotted line… it seems that surrounding Goris with our forces is a choice we have to make for now.”

Before the military officers could show their delight, the personal guard adjutant, Iron Head, hurried into the conference hall and whispered urgently in Harvey’s ear.

“Gentlemen, a message has returned from the Coral Holy City…” Harvey stood up, his expression serious. “The leaders and priests of the Coral and Abyssal races have replied. The dotted line… represents the tide.”

This hidden underground passage, running through the depths of the earth and spanning the Spine of the Continent Mountains from north to south, would ebb and flow with the underground tides. It would run dry during the spring and winter seasons, but fill with water again in summer and autumn, its width sufficient for more than ten Shallow-Water Gunboats to travel abreast.

Chapter 603: A Swelling Undercurrent

Ever since the Department of State had established the newspaper as an official channel for disseminating information, any major event occurring within the United Kingdom spread throughout the realm with incredible speed, drawing the close attention of the populace and the nobility everywhere.

Unlike the past, when news could only be passed along by merchant caravans and carrier pigeons, the kingdom’s Propaganda Department, possessing its own dedicated Magic Net communication line, allocated a massive budget to open specialized newspaper offices in administrative cities of every level. From receiving dispatches to printing the papers, the process was seamless. In addition to designated sales points, city halls everywhere would also dispatch people to read and explain the news in the most prominent spots in their public squares, giving even illiterate commoners a chance to learn about important decisions affecting the kingdom’s development.

The hottest topic of late was the law enacted by His Majesty the Emperor after his ascension, abolishing metal currency throughout the kingdom and replacing it with paper gold yuan.

Once the newspaper carrying this decree was published, it swept through every city in the nation in just a few short days. No matter where one went, from main streets to back alleys, one could hear countless people in fervent discussion. The topic garnered even more attention than the non-human race monster specimens recently put on public display by City Hall.

Goldshine City was no exception. Even during the day, a tavern in the outer city called “Warhammer” was still buzzing with noise. A large number of lower and middle-class locals gathered here, and all sorts of rumors about the “currency abolition decree” were spreading like wildfire. After a few drinks, almost everyone dared to claim they had top-secret, firsthand information.

The tavern owner sat behind the bar, bored, endlessly flipping a silver coin in his hand. He seemed to pay little mind to the roaring business before him, but his eyes would occasionally dart toward a group of people sitting in a corner of the main hall.

“Making me trade the real gold and silver I’ve worked so hard for, for a pile of colorful waste paper…” A merchant at the bar, his face flushed from drinking, slammed his tankard down on the counter and cursed in a low, furious voice. “This method of exploiting the people’s wealth is something even the greediest nobles in the capital of old wouldn’t have had the gall to pull off!”

A waiter, hurrying past behind him with a tray, suddenly raised an eyebrow, his expression turning a little grim as he looked at the drunken merchant.

Hearing this, the merchant’s companion hastily covered the man’s mouth and hissed, “What nonsense are you spouting? Openly insulting His Majesty the Emperor, do you have a death wish?”

The man instantly realized his slip of the tongue. His face turned pale, and the shock sobered him up completely.

Yet his words found agreement among many in the tavern. “I heard this disastrous idea came from those wizard advisors around His Majesty. It’s not like there weren’t any upright noble officials who spoke out against it, but they were all secretly squeezed out and suppressed. They even went so far as to frame them with trumped-up charges and throw them in prison.”

“What? Is there really such a shocking inside story?” more people exclaimed in surprise. “Where did you hear that? Is it reliable?”

“Hmph! Of course, it is. I have relatives in Jackdaw Town. You think it’s hard to get firsthand news from the capital?”

“But… but His Majesty the Emperor is still very young, and rumor has it he has always been wise and decisive. How could he be so easily manipulated by a group of wizards?”

“Perhaps it’s precisely because he is too young… Besides, isn’t His Majesty a wiz— Mmmph… mmmph…”

Once again, someone in the tavern had their mouth covered by a companion for making a statement that was far too alarming.

Just then, the group that had been sitting silently in the corner of the hall suddenly stood up. One of them walked over to the bar, took the silver coin the owner had casually tossed on the counter, and held it high between his fingertips.

“Everyone, don’t you find this decree to abolish gold and silver currency just a little too inconceivable?” He paused, his tone gradually rising. “Think about it. First, they seized the farmland from the nobles. Then, they abolished hereditary titles. Now, they’re forcing a change of currency to worthless paper. Every single one of these orders is so contrary to common sense. In any other kingdom in the south… these would be the policies of an incompetent ruler, more than enough to incite a civil war!”

“Yes… most of you don’t have titles or land to begin with, so of course you didn’t feel the immediate pain. But now they want everyone to hand over the shiny coins you’ve worked so hard to earn to the national treasury, in exchange for a pile of waste paper that who-knows-how-many bags of wheat it can buy. The knife is hanging right over your heads! Are you really going to wait until you starve to death on the streets?”

Someone in the crowd cautiously interjected, “But… didn’t His Majesty also abolish the land rent and tax? City Hall is giving us land to farm for free, and the transaction tax in the market has been cut by a full fifty percent…”

All other exorbitant taxes and levies were also eliminated. Even the dreaded conscription for corvée labor was declared obsolete. These were, in fact, genuinely benevolent measures.

The man at the bar scoffed. “And you can guarantee these policies will last forever? Those people being sent to the Northern Realm by the boatload—not a single one has been seen coming back… Shipped off to a barren wilderness, who knows what kind of treatment they’re suffering!”

His accomplice stood up at the perfect moment to chime in, “Besides, this ‘Your Majesty’ you all keep mentioning—who has actually seen him? For all we know, he could be a puppet secretly controlled by a group of wizards, a part of their conspiracy to seize control of the entire kingdom!”

The tavern was instantly in an uproar. “How could His Majesty be a fake? The coronation ceremony was printed in the newspapers and distributed across the whole country.”

The man snorted coldly. “Those iron ships that crowd the rivers all day long have driven how many merchant guilds and boat owners who rely on water transport to the brink of bankruptcy? The fields are full of those terrifying alchemical constructs made by wizards—a single one of those things is big enough to crush every one of us here. And the mines… those mine owners have laid off more than half their workers just because they got some alchemical machinery sent from the Northern Realm. The livelihoods of all common people are being encroached upon by the wizards’ evil creations. When it’s your turn to starve, let’s see who’s still smiling!”

With that, he turned to the owner, who was watching from behind the bar with a placid expression. “Mr. Austin, if one day, the wizards’ alchemical constructs can brew golden ale by themselves, will your tavern still be able to stay in business?”

The owner took a small notebook from his pocket. As he began to quickly jot something down with a quill pen, he said lightly, “Why wouldn’t it? I don’t brew the ale myself.”

Then he turned around and, through the window connecting to the back kitchen, handed over the slip of paper he had just torn out… as casually as if he were passing along a customer’s order.

A hand reached out from the service window and took the slip. The handwriting on it was a bit crooked, but the message was perfectly clear—

[Slandering the currency decree issued by His Majesty the Emperor, openly displaying hostility toward Spellcasters, attempting to incite the populace, showing signs of intent to rebel.]

Tsk… Listening to the whole exchange, it sounded like a down-and-out noble who had been stripped of his title and power, or perhaps a bankrupt merchant whose business had been squeezed out by the City Hall merchant guilds and state-owned factories, venting a great deal of pent-up resentment in a drunken rant…

But among them were a few individuals with ulterior motives, fanning the flames, stirring up trouble, and willfully inciting and distorting the government’s laws and policies.

To harbor resentment and speak so recklessly was a clear sign of intent to rebel.

The tavern owner, Jarle Austin, handle “Anvil,” sat back down in his chair. In a few short moments, the tavern door was kicked open, and a squad of menacing mechanical police stormed in. They effortlessly threw the patrons, who had just been speaking with such righteous indignation, to the floor, slapped shining metal cuffs on them, and hauled them away.

The task of apprehending criminal suspects had nothing to do with “secret police” like them.

Chapter 604: Consumer Trends

Thwack—

Harvey slapped the stack of newspapers in his hand onto the desk, complaining to Ashe, caught between exasperation and amusement, “I told you to publish more news about government affairs and the war. Look what you had those hacks at the Propaganda Department write!”

He tapped his finger repeatedly on the inner pages of the paper, forcing himself to read the text aloud despite his embarrassment.

【Shocking! His Majesty the Emperor’s daily diet includes such affordable and common delicacies!】

【The latest fashion trend: You too can own the same exquisite cotton and linen garments as high-ranking government officials!】

【Inter-species marriage search! Tall, strong half-orc youths and single officers with excellent salaries and benefits await you at the mixer!】

Taking a deep breath, Harvey tried his best to put on a stern face and scolded, “I asked you to train professional journalists. How did you end up with a pack of tabloid hounds who only write gossip?”

“Tabloid hounds? Haha! That’s a fitting description. The reporters under me really do have noses sharper than a dog’s.” Ashe scratched his head, a little embarrassed, and explained with a placating smile, “You know as well as I do that the public prefers gossip over dry, boring policy news. And it’s not like I’m making things up… Since we started publishing this kind of content, newspaper sales have more than doubled.”

“Then at least have some consideration for my dignity. What’s so newsworthy about my daily meals that it needs a special report?”

“That’s where you’re wrong. Since your daily life isn’t covered by confidentiality regulations, what’s the harm in publicizing it? It makes His Majesty the Emperor seem more approachable. You have no idea how many people worship you…” Ashe winked and added teasingly, “Once the court menu was released, dozens of restaurants in the Market District that started offering the same dishes saw their business explode.”

Even the new official uniform Harvey had casually ordered someone to design had, along with its cut and style, instantly become the rage throughout the capital. A large number of private tailors and clothing shops had started selling similar versions, carefully avoiding the regulated colors and official emblems, and were making a killing by skirting the rules.

In a sense, His Majesty the Emperor’s every word and action, even his personal preferences… had become the highest authority on trends in the eyes of the capital’s citizens.

Forced into being a “product endorser,” Harvey couldn’t win the argument and could only say helplessly, “Regardless, the front-page headline of the weekly paper must still carry the content strictly required by the Department of State. Whether it’s an analysis of a newly enacted law or a major military operation, you absolutely cannot be negligent in this area…”

He thought for a moment, then had a sudden realization. He slammed his hand on the desk and pointed at Ashe. “This gossip of yours… it’s all just advertising for people, isn’t it!”

Ashe froze, his face flushing a faint red as he mumbled, “I knew I couldn’t fool you for long.”

He opened one of the newspapers and pointed to the marriage notice inside. “The Ministry of Defense asked someone to pass me a message, asking for a favor… They said there are a lot of young officers in the army whose marital affairs are unsettled, especially the half-orcs, who are particularly unpopular on the matchmaking market. Helping them start families would contribute to the stability of the kingdom and the army, wouldn’t it?”

As for some of the content that was clearly promotional, most of it came from frequent hints sent over by the Ministry of Commerce. From the launch of a new model of bicycle to discounts on everyday goods, the basic goal was to guide and encourage the populace to take the money from their bulging wallets and spend it.

It wasn’t a bad way to accelerate the circulation of currency and increase tax revenue for the kingdom and the government… It was just that Ashe himself had probably never thought that deeply about it, having stumbled into doing a good deed by accident.

At this thought, an idea sparked in Harvey’s mind. He ordered, “In that case, go and make arrangements immediately. Change the paper’s frequency from weekly to twice a week. Let private businesses bid for the empty space in the paper. We’ll sell the advertising spots directly.”

“Get paid to promote those merchants?” Ashe’s eyes lit up at the words, and he slapped his forehead. “Of course! Why didn’t I think of that from the start? As long as the products are from legal and compliant sources, we can auction off these advertising spots to the highest bidder!”

From now on, the Propaganda Department wouldn’t even need to go groveling to the Department of State for its newspaper publication funds!

Ashe immediately agreed to Harvey’s proposal and left the office, brimming with excitement.

…

Astaren, who had remained silent on the side, suddenly spoke in a low voice, “Is Your Majesty planning to use this to ease the situation and quell the dissatisfaction of the merchants and nobles regarding the currency reform policy?”

Harvey let out a soft laugh. “Dissatisfaction? Of course I know they’re full of it, but they have no choice but to swallow it. Selling advertising space in the newspaper is merely a way to give the common people a few more channels to get information.”

In the past, the vast majority of the income earned by the common folk at the bottom, and even the urban middle class, was spent mainly on food and clothing. If they occasionally had a small surplus, most would choose to hide it carefully at home or even dig a hole in the backyard and bury it.

The very idea of promoting consumption was an unheard-of, brand-new concept for a populace that generally struggled on the poverty line, oppressed by nobles and living a precarious existence.

But the factories and farms Harvey had built across the kingdom provided a large number of stable, long-term jobs for these impoverished people who never knew where their next meal was coming from. The steady stream of salaries he paid out allowed their family savings to gradually increase even after they had enough to eat.

Just letting them save that money without spending it wasn’t good news for Harvey. Even if each person bought just one more bar of soap or one more set of new clothes each month, it would greatly boost the tax revenue from state-run factories and municipal merchant guilds.

When the gold yuan paper currency officially replaced gold and silver coinage nationwide, frequent consumption would allow the populace to truly recognize the value and purchasing power of the new currency, simultaneously reinforcing the government’s authority and legitimacy.

“Tell me what’s been happening in Goldshine City lately… that case involving nobles colluding with merchants to openly incite the public to resist the new currency policy.”

Seeing Harvey bring it up, Astaren was already prepared. He responded in a solemn voice, “It was a group of spies planted in the old capital by the Earl of Westwind, Leon Waters. They colluded with two local nobles who were already resentful because their fiefdoms had been confiscated, hoping to secretly stir up trouble.”

Back when the old capital fell, many local nobles who hadn’t committed serious crimes were fortunate enough to escape judgment and punishment. So long as they obediently surrendered their fiefdoms and paid a considerable fine, Harvey had mostly turned a blind eye.

Many of these people were “gilded rice buckets” who lived by squeezing land rent and tax from the people, leeches on the public’s back. Having lost their life-sustaining rental income, and being poor at managing other businesses, they had quickly reached the ridiculous point of near bankruptcy.

It wasn’t strange at all that they could be incited with just a few words to join forces with the Earl of Westwind.

Harvey was so angry he had to laugh. “After fleeing back to the Alyrid Duchy, hasn’t the Earl of Westwind been running around everywhere, recruiting soldiers on one hand and appealing to the Holy See for aid on the other?”

Since he was so eager to die, the plan to “pass through” Alyrid and dispatch troops to Goris… could be moved up the schedule immediately.

Chapter 605: High-Speed Flight Training

Michel leaned against the slightly warm magical-powered core, using the steady heat radiating from the device to warm his nearly frozen body.

Through the wide-open door of the airship’s gondola, he could clearly see the figure of the high-rank battle mage flying alongside him.

“Mr. Hoden, are… are you sure you don’t want to come in and rest for a bit?” The Fire Mage had been flying independently of the airship ever since they had taken off from the Eastern Expansion base. Nearly two hours had passed, yet he showed no signs of his mana being depleted, a fact that Michel found truly terrifying.

Fortunately, his suggestion was quickly met with a response. The Son of Flame ducked into the gondola, sliding the door shut behind him. “You undea— Soul Mages! Your bodies are truly so frail. Are you already freezing?”

Michel gave a bitter, awkward smile. This new model of high-speed airship flew at a much higher altitude than standard models. With the reduced weight of the gondola and its payload, its cruising speed had more than doubled. Sitting in the drafty cockpit, even a high-level Mage would find it unbearable.

Not everyone was like the Son of Flame, whose flight spell came with its own scorching flame effect and whose magically modified body was impervious to the cold.

“We’re about to reach the border between the kingdom and Isengard. Once we land at Wolf Fang Ridge for another round of refueling, we’ll have completed the trial flight and can return.”

The Son of Flame didn’t answer, turning instead to ask, “What’s our current flight speed?”

“Approaching thirty kilometers per hour…” Michel expertly pulled out his pocket watch and, using the navigation speed reference manual compiled by the Aerial Combat Mage Independent Regiment, reported to the Son of Flame.

“Still can’t compare to a high-level Mage’s flight spell…” The Son of Flame pursed his lips in slight dissatisfaction and turned to observe the operating power core.

The high-speed airship had undergone extreme modifications from the original combat airship design. Not only were the six separate gasbags replaced with the dual gasbags of a civilian swift airship model, but the original metal gondola was also replaced with a lighter composite material. Only the structural frame and the gondola’s base were made of thin steel plates; the rest was constructed from multiple layers of hide or woven rattan with a rubber coating.

The interior of the gondola was shrunk by two-thirds, leaving only enough room for the power core, externally mounted weapon racks… and a cramped space for just two people.

This extreme reduction in payload also meant the airship couldn’t carry extra fuel. Its flight range was barely one hundred fifty kilometers at a constant cruising speed, and at full speed, its range was halved.

Fortunately, they had refueled once at the Eastern Expansion base after departing from the capital. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have had enough fuel to cross the Spine of the Continent Mountains and follow the mountain range along the St. Valen-Isengard border all the way to Wolf Fang Ridge.

“We’re not going directly to Wolf Fang Ridge…” The Son of Flame reached out, pulled the lever controlling the power core’s output all the way down, and pointed at the fuel tank gauge for the liquid magical energy with a grin. “Let’s take a detour to Highland City. We have more than enough fuel. We can definitely manage a full-speed run!”

Before Michel could answer, the power core switched from cruising mode to full-speed mode. A low hum, accompanied by a rhythmic vibration, filled the cockpit with a cacophony of clattering sounds. Even with the door fully shut, the two could clearly feel the turbulence as the airship tore through the air at high speed.

“Hahaha! Now this speed can finally compete with the power of a flight spell.” The Son of Flame couldn’t help but laugh out loud. He turned to look at Michel, who was huddled in his seat, gripping the handrails tightly. “Don’t forget to record our speed. I estimate we can reach almost fifty kilometers per hour!”

…

The airship journey was bumpy, but they managed to reach Highland City at full speed without any major incidents. Through the cover of the clouds, they could vaguely make out the city standing on the plain several kilometers away.

The Son of Flame narrowed his eyes and suddenly said, “Did Highland City absorb a lot of the surrounding population after we took complete control?”

“I don’t think so…” Michel shook his head, a little puzzled. “As a border city near Wolf Fang Ridge, besides being a necessary stop on a major trade route, Highland City doesn’t have any other advantages…”

Before he could finish his long-winded explanation, the Son of Flame had already picked up a spyglass and held it right up to Michel’s face, saying in a low voice, “See for yourself…”

The city rose abruptly from the plain, its earthen-yellow walls conspicuous and striking… and outside those walls, for some unknown reason, a massive crowd had gathered. Through the spyglass, he could see that most of them had carts and bundles. They were dressed in rags and covered in dust, and there were several thousand of them.

“What… what’s happening?” Michel stammered. “Are the locals abandoning the city and migrating into our kingdom?”

The Son of Flame shook his head, his expression grave. He picked up the alchemical communicator and began to request contact with the garrison command in Highland City.

“Bzzzt—Bzzzt—We have reported to Wolf Fang Ridge… Bzzzt—Ironhill has fallen… Demonic Lizardmen are ravaging the area around Isengard’s capital—Bzzzt—Large numbers of refugees are fleeing towards the border!”

The Son of Flame frowned. “Didn’t we have intelligence personnel in Ironhill? Why was there no word of an attack or its fall?”

The intelligence gathering in Ironhill had been entrusted to the Stoneheart Hermits, an allied dissident sect native to Isengard. Although they didn’t have permission to use Magic Brain devices or alchemical communicators, they could still deliver news of major and minor events in the capital to Wolf Fang Ridge in a relatively timely manner using Spell Messengers and messenger birds.

It was just that the information was slightly delayed, often by several days.

“Bzzzt—Intelligence personnel—Bzzzt—have lost contact!”

That was Isengard’s capital, a city of over twenty thousand people… It had fallen so silently that there hadn’t even been a chance to send a warning.

The two men in the airship couldn’t help but exchange a look, unable to imagine just how enormous the number of Demonic Lizardmen that had appeared at Ironhill must have been.

“I’m afraid Highland City will have to be completely evacuated soon…” the Son of Flame said slowly with a sigh. “We don’t need to land. Let’s turn back to Wolf Fang Ridge immediately.”

His Majesty’s prediction had been spot on. After seizing the Great Rift of the Spine of the Gods Mountains, the Demonic Lizardmen had indeed struck south, heading straight for Isengard’s capital, Ironhill.

The only thing they hadn’t expected was the speed of their assault. In less than three months, they had torn a wide-open gap in the defenses along one of the three original southward routes.

After capturing Isengard’s capital, the Demonic Lizardmen would undoubtedly begin a massive slaughter of innocent mortals, driving refugees from the northern part of the kingdom south. The path they left behind would certainly be a hellish scene of utter devastation.

In the Western Realm, north of Vile Moon Mountain, large and powerful tribes of Demons served as a buffer, buying enough time for the humans south of the mountains to make war preparations. In the battle at Great Bear Lake, Floating Island Number 3 had been sunk, but the central defensive line seemed stable for now…

The Northern Army, stationed at the border of Wolf Fang Ridge, was about to come under immense pressure.

Chapter 606: Black Water Burns the City

Isengard, the capital city of Ironhill.

Where the surging Shatlan River flowed, it had carved out a massive, twisted bend, causing the current to slow. Diverted from there into several large, man-made canals, its waters nourished the heart of the Kingdom of Isengard.

What was once a scene of prosperity and splendor in the capital had, in an instant, been transformed into a living Hell, ravaged by slaughter and blood, all because of the endless “Devils” that had surged forth from the river’s waters.

Tens of thousands of Demonic Lizardmen had infiltrated the city silently through the canals. Repeating their old tactic, they launched a surprise attack at night. The Winged ones took to the sky, spraying black water everywhere. Scattered flames quickly spread like wildfire, creeping inward from the city’s outskirts.

The populace, driven from their homes by the inferno, was ruthlessly slaughtered by the Demonic Lizardmen’s ground forces. Against these unarmed, weak mortals, a single sharp crystalline spike the size of a finger was enough to effortlessly claim a life.

The Defense Force in the capital’s outer city had no time to assemble. Gathering in small, scattered groups, they were quickly locked onto by enemies from the sky and subjected to a relentless bombardment of concentrated red light.

Some Ironhill Hussars who already lived in the outer city, or knight commanders who possessed bloodline abilities, managed to fight their way through the chaos with the few squires under their command, converging toward the Hussar garrison and the Royal Palace.

Amidst the city’s buildings of varying heights, giant, dark silhouettes seemed to be moving with unnaturally heavy steps, concealed by the night.

A ball of flame suddenly erupted from a nearby Granary, instantly illuminating the entire dim city street. A giant monster, round like a conch shell but with a high-arched back, its height comparable to a cathedral’s bell tower, was lifting a twisted, long leg so thick that several men couldn’t wrap their arms around it. It crushed a panicked warhorse into a paste.

“What… what is that monster?” an Ironhill Hussar stammered, pulling tightly on his reins.

No one could answer his question. The knights and squires who witnessed the scene had expressions of uncontrollable fear on their faces. Without waiting for a command from their Sir, everyone instinctively turned their horses and desperately spurred them onward to escape.

Faced with this monstrous devil-beast that seemed to have emerged from Hell itself, even the most elite knights could not muster a shred of courage to rally and charge it.

Within the Royal Palace, Prince Regent Andrew paced back and forth anxiously in the courtyard.

A personal guard approached, bowed with a grave expression, and reported, “Your Highness, the fires in the outer city are too large. The personal guards we sent out can’t reach the Hussar garrison in the south of the city… Many civilians, driven by the thick smoke, are storming the inner city. We can’t contact the Defense Army at any of the four gates.”

Andrew gritted his teeth. “Those damned non-human races from the north! How in the world did they sneak into the city? Where did they find such a terrifying incendiary, to be able to set the entire outer city ablaze?”

The personal guard, looking utterly lost, could not answer his question. Andrew was filled with silent regret. The Emperor of St. Valen hadn’t been making empty threats. There truly was a powerful non-human race from the north that had crossed the Great Rift of the Spine of the Gods Mountains to invade the south, and their first target… was the Hussar Kingdom of Isengard!

Although he didn’t know the exact number of enemies in the city, judging by their deliberate use of fire to create chaos, their forces were likely not too large. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have resorted to a night raid and arson in an attempt to make them fall into disarray first.

The thought that he still commanded nearly five thousand Ironhill Hussars settled the Prince Regent’s nerves slightly. If the two armies were to face off in open battle outside the city, he wouldn’t fear any so-called non-human race. Even if the Pope’s Knights of Grace or Araye’s Mage Corps were here, he would have a right to go toe-to-toe with them.

“Send more men! No matter what, the Hussars must assemble at the Royal Palace immediately! They are to protect the royal family and the nobles, and on the other hand, wait for dawn to launch a counterattack against the enemies occupying the outer city!”

In truth, Andrew was primarily concerned for his own safety. The royal guards and elite knights numbered just over a thousand, and they not only had to defend the palace but also help repel the rioting civilians storming the inner city. There were very few trusted men he could keep by his side.

Before the personal guard could leave to dispatch the orders, a figure suddenly descended from the sky into the palace courtyard, landing directly in front of Andrew.

“Bishop Randall? You… why are you here at a time like this?”

After the two Armies of Judgment had withdrawn from Isengard, the only one from the Holy See left stationed in the capital of Ironhill was this man before him, Archbishop Randall. He was also a high-rank battle priest, and his family had always been close to the royal family… which was why he was an important figure Prince Andrew had to be wary of during his bid for the throne.

However, the Archbishop seemed to have no interest in the royal family’s internal power struggles. He had always stayed in the Ironhill Cathedral, rarely showing his face in public, and had never once openly walked the halls of the Royal Court.

“Where is His Majesty the King?” The white-robed Archbishop had no intention of wasting words with Andrew and asked bluntly.

Andrew frowned, sensing that something was off about the man’s tone and expression. He quickly said, “His Majesty is currently safe. Shouldn’t you first discuss with me how to quell the chaos and deal with the enemies that have invaded the outer city?”

Randall gave a bitter laugh. “Quell the chaos? Do you have any idea how many enemies have attacked tonight? Surely you aren’t still deluding yourself that the five thousand Ironhill Hussars under your command can easily sweep away all your obstacles?”

With that, he took a bloodstained cast-iron insignia from his robes and tossed it into the Prince Regent’s hands.

“The Ironhill Hussars are heavily surrounded at their garrison in the south by those non-human calamities. Thousands of winged devils, and monsters as large as bell towers… The elites you were so proud of were powerless to resist.”

Andrew stumbled back several steps, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Wha… what! The knight order… the order is already…”

“Perhaps a few small squads managed a difficult breakout, but they fled toward the outside of the city.” The bishop’s icy words were like a slowly tightening noose, leaving Andrew feeling suffocated.

Watching the bishop’s figure run toward the Mad King’s bedchambers, he couldn’t help but murmur, “He’s planning to take the King… and fly out of the capital single-handedly…”

In a daze, he finally remembered that apart from Bishop Randall, there seemed to be no other leader of the Church in Ironhill who had mastered the divine art of flight.

The Captain of the personal guard hurried forward and said urgently, “Your Highness, we need to evacuate immediately, find a way to break through… Otherwise, we won’t even have to wait for the enemy. The desperate civilians swarming into the inner city will trample us to death.”

Andrew clenched the cast-iron insignia in his hand and stumbled up to the second floor of a pavilion in the courtyard. He looked toward the skyline, which was completely lit by the towering flames. In the distance… it seemed as though countless twisted figures with flapping wings were darting through the flickering night sky, heading toward the Royal Palace.

Chapter 607: The Eastern and Western Fronts

“I didn’t expect our fiscal and tax growth in the fourth quarter of last year to be so much better than expected!”

Harvey closed the report in his hands and gave Rainer a satisfied smile. “I believe all our economic indicators can maintain this momentum through the first quarter of this year.”

Over the past year, the Northern Realm had experienced battles of varying sizes at almost regular intervals. The recruitment of people had never ceased, and once the floodgates of military spending and various relief subsidies were opened, funds poured out like a deluge.

Yet, the year-end summary showed that not only had they avoided falling into financial hardship, but they had actually grown richer from the war… Especially in winter, population and tax revenue growth had surpassed that of the harvest season. A large number of manufacturing industries were springing up across the kingdom like mushrooms after rain. Laborers, liberated from the farmlands, flooded into the cities, completely filling the labor shortages in every factory.

In the past, when winter came to St. Valen, situated in the northern part of the south, the land and rivers would freeze over and the mountains and forests would be covered in snow. Ninety-nine percent of the common people would huddle in their crude homes, relying on fires, hearths, and the meager rations saved up over a year of hard work, struggling to survive until the next spring… If it weren’t for tax collectors driving them out with whips and swords, they would never risk the snowstorms and the danger of the Frost Plague to take a single step outside their houses to build city walls or perform hard labor for their noble lords.

The ironclad ships and trains, which traveled day and night across plains and rivers, defying the snowstorms, had completely shattered the predicament of snow-blocked roads and frozen waterways. Food shortages and high-priced hoarding no longer occurred anywhere in the kingdom. The various government-built infirmaries and the free distribution of vaccines and potions had completely eliminated the people’s fear of plagues and death.

More and more people discovered that working diligently in factories that provided heating all day, shelter from the snow, and even food and lodging was far more stable and comfortable than huddling in their own drafty homes.

“Going to the city to work” became the primary choice in everyone’s mind for creating a better future!

And after His Majesty the Emperor’s coronation ceremony, Starfire City, officially established as the new capital of the United Kingdom, became the best destination for “going to the city to work.”

The Ralph River, which ran through the entire kingdom, had become the most crowded and busiest waterway. Grizzly Keep, located at the northern end of the route, was even more packed—a large number of the southern merchant guilds had set up stations here, opening transit trading posts to purchase highly sought-after goods produced in the Northern Realm’s capital. It had reached a point where ships had to queue for a berthing spot at the docks.

Every day, hundreds of people would arrive of their own accord, then transfer to a train to their final destination to “chase their dreams”—the capital, Starfire City.

This kind of large-scale, completely voluntary migration had never been seen before in the nations of the south. It also caused Starfire City’s population to quickly surpass the one hundred thousand mark, and after the new year’s spring planting, it surged to nearly one hundred and thirty thousand.

The continuous influx of new immigrants did not have to worry about a lack of suitable jobs… With the city’s endless expansion, the old city walls, once considered majestic and long, were now officially designated as the inner city walls. A new city wall, with construction starting from the northern section, was in the midst of a heated recruitment drive. Recruitment stalls and promotional notices were even posted right at the entrance of the central train station, vowing to snatch up all the new immigrants pouring into the capital before other factories could.

Conspicuous banners were hung high everywhere, with slogans like “Once you’re here, you’re one of us” and “Hard work creates a happy life” constantly ringing in the people’s ears.

“The City Hall… oh no, it should be called the Department of State now. Rainer, you did an excellent job last year!” Harvey took a sip of his tea, giving his final approval of the work report Rainer had submitted.

From within his old subordinate’s metal-cast body came the slightly comical, rattling laugh of gears and the Soul Core resonating at a high frequency… For him, no reward could compare to a word of praise from Harvey. After Harvey had personally upgraded his core, he was filled with the passionate drive to serve His Majesty for another hundred years.

Just then, Astaren and Pierce also walked into the office, but the news they brought immediately made the atmosphere less pleasant.

“So, it’s basically confirmed now that Ironhill has completely fallen during the Demonic Lizardmen’s major surprise attack?”

The Chief Administrative Advisor nodded, handing the intelligence file to Harvey, and explained in a grave voice, “This is the report from Wolf Fang Ridge… Based on the explanation from the head of the Stoneheart Hermits, we’ve also figured out why our informants who had infiltrated the city didn’t send us a warning message immediately when Ironhill was attacked.”

This loss of contact was indeed an unfortunate accident. Ever since the Stoneheart Hermits were officially “recruited,” their leader, Old Hughes, had been active throughout Isengard and had also sent several carefully trained undercover officers to infiltrate Ironhill as inside agents.

The problem was that these undercover officers were almost all low-level Spellcasters. Although they were extremely cautious in their daily activities in Ironhill, not daring to reveal their identities in the slightest lest they be reported by the citizens of Ironhill who viewed them as heretics… when the Demonic Lizardmen attacked the city, the mana fluctuations in their bodies were impossible to hide. They were as conspicuous as beacons in the night, becoming the first to be pinpointed and eliminated by the non-human race. There was simply no opportunity for them to escape or send a message.

“Fortunately, after the fall of Isengard’s capital, the enemy didn’t immediately press south… We still have ample time to respond.” Harvey looked at the sea chart of the south hanging on the wall and pointed to the course of the Shatlan River after it passed Ironhill. “They must have new, smaller Floating Islands traveling submerged in the underground waterways wherever their forces pass. According to the sea chart, the enemy’s next target… should be Glenmore Lake, seventy-five kilometers north of Highland City.”

That was also the southernmost point the submerged Floating Islands could reach within Isengard’s territory, and it was only one hundred and fifty kilometers away from the Wolf Fang Ridge border. The Winged ones could reach the border defenses in just two or three hours, and the ordinary land-based Demonic Lizardmen, with the help of some small river tributaries, could also launch a surprise attack, setting out in the morning and arriving by evening.

Pierce said in a low voice, “Your Majesty, the main point of strategic contention between the Military Command and the General Staff is how to determine our offensive and defensive posture on the eastern and western fronts…”

To the east was an offensive to capture the mountain kingdom of Arid and then station troops on the border of the Holy City of Goris, to prevent a gap in the defensive line should the Holy City be attacked and fall. To the west, in Isengard, they had already given up the entire territory with its advantageous strategic depth and were now forced to retreat and defend the border at Wolf Fang Ridge.

Both “leaks” needed to be plugged with troops in a timely manner. The General Staff Headquarters, managed by Astaren, leaned towards first stabilizing the western front around Wolf Fang Ridge, finding a way to push the front line back to conveniently annex some neighboring territory. At the same time, the more distant eastern front should temporarily hold off on any action. Since the Church was guarding the front line in Goris, no matter how dire the situation became… there would be a scapegoat to buy them some time.

The Military Command, led by Pierce, held a more aggressive stance. With ample troops and superior firepower, they were of a mind to tackle both fronts with equal force, hoping to advance simultaneously. They were unwilling to suffer even the slightest loss.

After listening to each of their opinions and considering them comprehensively, Harvey made the final decision. “If we give the army three days to take down Arid with a blitzkrieg, a two-front war is not entirely unfeasible.”

Chapter 608: Reserve Militia

Before the sky had fully brightened, a sudden rush of footsteps echoed through the quiet, peaceful village’s stone-paved streets.

A few young men, dressed in simple cotton-and-linen shirts with their chests bared to the morning air, walked up to a stone house at the head of the village and began to pound on the door.

Bang, bang, bang!

“Bale! Bale! Are you up?”

The heavy, solid door almost buckled under the assault of their iron-like fists. Bale quickly opened it and ushered the four men inside.

“What’s the rush? The rooster hasn’t even crowed. Let’s fill our stomachs before we set out!”

With that, he ladled several bowls of hot wheat porridge from the simmering iron pot in the hearth, then broke off a few pieces of hard bread from the cupboard and handed them out.

“The recruitment office posts the lists at nine in the morning. We only need to leave at six, and we’ll definitely make it into the city by eight.”

He proudly pulled an exquisite copper-cased pocket watch from his coat, flashing it in front of them with a smug expression. “Don’t worry, I’m keeping an eye on the time. We absolutely won’t be late.”

When he had moved to the town, he had brought with him two grassland fire fox pelts and a few ancestral Northland gems… Who would have thought that after just two trips into the city with the Clan Head, he had managed to trade for novelties from the state-run store that made all the young men in the village envious.

The youngest tribesman, munching on his bread while slurping down his wheat porridge, said, “Getting there early gives us an advantage. It’s not that we’re rushing you, but those guys from the Rock Mountain Tribe were planning to leave for the city from the next town before dawn. They’re probably almost at the city gates by now.”

Bale suddenly remembered something and asked in a low voice, “Did you not tell Sai Ke from the village on the other side of the river?”

“Hmph, that guy’s no friend. He snuck off yesterday without telling us and headed to the city ahead of time!”

After swallowing his last mouthful of porridge, Bale wiped his mouth, retrieved his leather pouch of various documents from under his pillow, grabbed his water flask, and urged, “What are you waiting for, then? Let’s go!”

The group quickly walked out of the village. Looking at the neat rows of stone houses along the riverbank, they saw that many already had lights on, with plumes of smoke rising from their chimneys… Those were the tribespeople who farmed, diligently preparing their morning meals.

As far as the eye could see, the vast, flat land looked dark and somber in the hazy dawn. The seeds that had just been sown in the freshly tilled soil lay waiting to sprout, exuding an indescribable vitality everywhere.

…

Following the flat, wide road, they arrived just as Bale had said. As the hands of his pocket watch pointed to eight, they saw the towering walls and open gates of Fengyuan City.

After dutifully presenting their identification cards, they quickly joined the queue of people flowing into the city. Fengyuan City was larger than any settlement they had ever seen, and its streets were as complex as a maze, with twists and turns everywhere. Fortunately, Bale had been here a few times with the Clan Head and at least knew the way to the recruitment office.

Along the way, they felt that every young man they saw heading in the same direction was going to the recruitment office. Faced with these competitors… it was natural that they didn’t exchange pleasantries.

The recruitment had quotas and standards; just showing up didn’t guarantee selection. An identification card and a literacy education certificate were both indispensable. In addition, one had to have four healthy limbs, clear speech, be at least eighteen years old, and even have their eyesight tested on the spot.

Under these many restrictions, only Bale and his four companions from the Emerald Tribe in Jinglin Town were eligible. The rest were basically all disqualified by their literacy level, not even possessing the right to apply.

When he saw the long, orderly queue in front of the recruitment office, Bale suddenly felt he had miscalculated. There was still more than half an hour until the lists were posted, yet these people were already lining up. How infuriating!

Suppressing his frustration, he obediently went to the back of the line, craning his neck and peering at the tightly shut main doors.

Soon, the bell tower on a distant street corner chimed on time. The heavy double doors of the recruitment office swung open, and a non-commissioned officer in a black military uniform emerged, clutching a roll of documents. Seeing the long lines that had formed so early, he couldn’t help but let out a “Hah!”

He didn’t delay, however. He walked directly to the notice board and posted the recruitment notice, then raised the alchemical loudspeaker in his hand and began to announce loudly.

“The United Kingdom of the Northern Realm and St. Valen, Ministry of Defense recruitment office in Fengyuan City, is now recruiting a total of five hundred troops! The quota for the Northern Army is three hundred, and the quota for the Defense Force is two hundred!”

Before his voice had faded, he squinted and did a rough count of the three long queues before him. As expected, the number of applicants exceeded the quota, and a selection process would be necessary.

“Those who have completed basic literacy education with a passing grade or higher on their certificate… and who have also undergone the two-week reserve militia training program within the last six months will be given priority! Please step out of the line with your militia certificate in hand!”

Bale quietly clenched his fist and let out a small cheer. He turned to his fellow tribesmen, whose faces also lit up with joy, and said, “See? I told you those two weeks of tedious and arduous stance training and drilling weren’t just for fun… It was definitely for the recruitment drive!”

Instantly, a small half of the people in the queue raised their certificates high, beaming as they left the long line and followed the recruitment officer into the building ahead of the others.

Without a doubt, they would be given priority for selection into the prestigious Northern Army, which was primarily responsible for foreign campaigns!

Bale also spotted, not far ahead of them, the young Clan Head of the Silver Moon Tribe, Sai Ke. He, too, had participated in the militia training. It seemed he had come prepared.

After completing a series of registration procedures for height and age in the main hall of the recruitment office, the group was immediately gathered on the spacious playing field in the back courtyard. Looking at the dense rows of dormitories not far away, they understood that they would be spending the next period of their lives here.

But to their surprise, another officer, also in a black military uniform with the rank of ensign on his chest, stood before them with a stern face. A mechanical arm made of cast metal looked terrifyingly intimidating.

“Now that you’ve met the enlistment requirements and completed your registration… you are all officially members of the Northern Army’s reserve new recruits.”

“Next, you all have one full day to travel home and back, pack a small amount of luggage, and bid farewell to your families. You must report back here punctually before noon tomorrow to move out with the main force. If any of you dare to be late or fail to show up… Hmph, not only will you be punished by Military Law, but your families will also be interrogated by the Justice Department! Do you understand?!”

“Understood, Sir!” everyone roared. Having undergone the most basic militia training, they naturally understood the military’s principles of absolute obedience and following orders without question.

“If you have any further questions, ask me now.”

Sai Ke, standing at the front of the line, cautiously raised his hand. “Sir, will we not be undergoing new recruit training here locally? Are we leaving with the main force tomorrow… Are we… are we going to the Northern Realm?”

Were they being sent to the battlefield immediately? For a moment, everyone felt their hearts pound with anxiety.

The officer with the iron arm let out a disdainful chuckle. “What makes you think you’re qualified to go straight to the battlefield? You still have at least three to six months of intensive training ahead of you. Those who don’t pass will be sent crawling back in disgrace…”

“Besides, our destination is not the Northern Realm. We are going to Wangshan Prefecture.”

Wangshan Prefecture… Isn’t that on the border between our country and the Alyrid Duchy?

Chapter 609: Ambushed

Goris, the City of Grace. Radiant Cathedral.

An elite guard of the Army of Judgment, clad in white robes, hurried into the oratory, unsurprisingly startling the Cardinal who was resting on a long bench with his eyes closed.

Ismael closed the book that lay open in his hands and asked slowly, “Why such a flustered expression? Has something happened?”

The guard leaned in close and said, “Your Excellency, there seems to be some unusual activity from the Flame Heart Army of Judgment legion… Chief Inquisitor Isaiah, against Your Excellency Felipe’s advice, is insisting on joining forces with the Dark Sun Army of Judgment legion to march for Isengard and relieve Ironhill from the non-human invasion.”

The Holy City had received a warning from Archbishop Randall about the fall of Isengard’s capital a week ago. Randall, who was currently on his way back to the Holy City, had also mentioned that the non-human race was known to come from north of the Spine of the Continent Mountains and were not a vile orc tribe… but a previously unheard-of existence. The force that had rampaged through Ironhill alone numbered in the tens of thousands, a force that mortal knights and armies could not possibly contend with.

This news naturally caused a great uproar in the Holy City. Over the past while, they had heard rumors that St. Valen’s newly-enthroned Emperor of the Northern Realm seemed to have led his army in several major battles against an unknown enemy in the barren lands. However, most of the Holy See’s upper echelons believed… he was merely conducting a routine purge of the numerous vile orc tribes to consolidate his rule in the Northern Realm and expand his territory.

It now seemed they were the first to encounter the northern non-humans. His military incursion into northern Isengard was likely an attempt to establish a defensive line at the Great Rift of the Spine of the Gods Mountains in advance, to halt the non-humans’ southward march.

Ismael narrowed his eyes and said in a low voice, “Isaiah must have lost his mind. It’s too late to reinforce Isengard now… Besides, St. Valen is currently hostile towards us. How are two Army of Judgment legions, nearly five thousand strong, supposed to cross the central part of the south and reach the great plains? The Emperor of the Northern Realm would never agree to let his enemies brazenly ‘pass through’ his territory, would he?”

Just then, Bishop Bamoa arrived. With a stern face, he interjected, “If we can’t pass through St. Valen, at worst we can cross the Spine of the Continent Mountains and detour through the barren lands, or head south and advance east through the Barkley Duchy… Isengard is, after all, a nation of my Lord’s followers. His Holiness’s order to reassign the two Army of Judgment legions originally stationed there was an extremely unwise move.”

If those two legions were still garrisoned in Ironhill, Isengard’s capital would not have been so utterly defenseless, falling into non-human hands in an instant.

Ismael frowned and coughed, then waved to dismiss the attendants and guards in the room. He rebuked Bamoa, “You must not carelessly criticize His Holiness’s decisions… You should also be aware that the City of Grace is also near the Spine of the Continent Mountains. The primary duty of the Army of Judgment is to defend the Holy City!”

Ismael knew full well that Bamoa, whose stance already leaned toward the Divine Punishment Faction, had likely played a significant role in instigating the Flame Heart and Dark Sun legions to mobilize. However, he had no interest in arguing with him right now.

As if by coincidence, at this most critical moment, His Holiness the Pope had announced to the three Cardinals who held the real power in the Holy City that he would be entering the lowest level of the Arcane Section in the Chasm of Saints to conduct a year-long secluded, secret prayer in a sunless oratory.

The timing—not a moment sooner, not a moment later, but right on the eve of Isengard’s invasion by the non-humans—instantly made the upper echelons of the Holy See feel as if they had lost their pillar of support. The power holders, already overtly split into two factions, were now at a complete impasse, each clinging to their own arguments, descending into total chaos.

The Divine Punishment Faction focused more on developing the Church’s influence in the secular kingdoms, so naturally, they were unwilling to stand by and watch all of Isengard fall. Hundreds of thousands of believers in the Cavalry Kingdom, along with the thousands of large and small churches and parishes scattered throughout its lands, falling into non-human hands… would be a fatal blow to them.

Meanwhile, the upper echelons of the Moderate Faction had always been conservative. For years, they had tacitly allowed the Divine Punishment Faction to secretly collude with the nations of the south to suppress the Federation and ordinary Spellcasters at every turn. It wasn’t until the Rotting Plague incident in St. Valen that they suddenly realized the alliance formed to fight the Demons was on the verge of collapse. The long-standing peace among Humans was also teetering on the brink due to their own indulgence.

This dangerous act of “setting fire to one’s own backyard” finally spurred the Moderate Faction into action. They adopted a rare, hardline stance against the Divine Punishment Faction, which made the schism in the Holy City impossible to conceal. Many mid- and low-ranking high priests and knights of the Army of Judgment who had vaguely heard the rumors began to show ideological confusion and hesitation.

This decline in faith could not be allowed to continue!

Ismael, who belonged to the Moderate Faction, could no longer remain passive. The great non-human enemy was still rampaging in Isengard thousands of miles away, but the glory of the Holy City could not be allowed to crumble from within. Without the Pope’s authority to keep things in check, he had to step forward, take on more responsibility, and do everything in his power to salvage the situation.

Bamoa’s attitude couldn’t be changed in a short time, but Bishop Riviera, who came from an Ascetic Monk background, could still be won over… Besides the Flame Heart and Dark Sun legions that clearly sided with the Divine Punishment Faction, he still had control over at least three Army of Judgment legions that were loyal to His Holiness the Pope and leaned toward the Moderate Faction.

These forces numbered close to five thousand, with elite bloodline knights possessing extraordinary power making up a full thirty percent of them. Although they were a far cry from the Spear of Radiance, which had been completely annihilated outside Goldshine City where every member possessed a divine gift… having guarded the Holy City for so long, their combat strength was not to be underestimated.

At this thought, he stood up, not intending to continue the verbal spar with Bamoa. Just as he was about to leave the oratory to find Riviera, he was nearly knocked over by a member of the Army of Judgment who burst in.

The newcomer, however, had rushed to see Bamoa. “Bishop, it’s terrible! Something has happened to Chief Inquisitor Isaiah!”

“What?” Bamoa, who had been calm just a moment ago, shot to his feet with a look of disbelief. “Didn’t he personally lead troops to the northern monastery for a routine inspection? What on earth happened?”

It was called a routine inspection, but in reality, they were secretly dispatching troops to the foot of the Spine of the Continent Mountains. They truly intended to detour through the Northern Barren Lands on a thousand-mile journey to reinforce Isengard.

Ismael didn’t point this out, instead asking, “Did they run into vile orcs that have strayed into the south, or scattered remnants of a Demon army?”

The guard shook his head, looking somewhat dazed. “I don’t know… But—but the five hundred bloodline knights and more than ten battle priests the Chief Inquisitor took with him were all lost. Only eight high-rank knights broke through the encirclement at the risk of their lives to rescue the gravely wounded Chief Inquisitor… We’ve also lost contact with the northern monastery.”

“Gravely wounded? Where is Isaiah now?”

“At the Cathedral of Divine Grace. Bishop Riviera is doing everything he can to treat him. The eight bloodline knights who returned with him are also receiving emergency treatment there.”

Ismael and Bamoa exchanged a look, instantly feeling that something was very wrong.

“Immediately notify the other Cardinals and Chief Inquisitor Felipe. Tell them to meet us at the Cathedral of Divine Grace at once. Also, completely seal the cathedral. Forbid any cleric or member of the Army of Judgment who knows about this from leaving!”

Chapter 610: The Eve of Great Change

How could this be? What on earth did Isaiah’s knight order encounter at the northern monastery?

Ismael found it hard to believe. An order of five hundred bloodline knights imbued with divine power, including dozens of high-rank members and even battle priests skilled in Radiant Healing Art—even if they had met a force of vile orcs and Demon soldiers several times their number, they should not have been completely annihilated.

Take Isaiah himself. Before his official advancement to Knight Commander of the Flameheart Knight Order, he had been an Inquisitorial Knight stationed at Blackstone City for over a decade. A battle-hardened veteran, he was Chief Inquisitor Felipe’s most outstanding and capable subordinate, with a glorious record of single-handedly slaying a high-rank Demon priest.

It must have been a sudden, unexpected attack… Could it be that within the isolated northern monastery, far from the Holy City, there were traitors who had forsaken the gods and willingly fallen into depravity? Conspiring with those nefarious Spellcasters…

Although the entire incident was shrouded in an unusual and unsettling strangeness, the Cardinal forcefully suppressed the doubts in his heart. Teaming up with Bamoa, with whom he maintained a superficial peace, he decisively sealed off all news of the attack on the Flameheart Knight Order to prevent the two factions, already on the brink of schism, from erupting into open conflict.

By the time they arrived at the Cathedral of Divine Grace, Chief Inquisitor Felipe was already waiting at the entrance. Bishop Riviera had denied his request to see and attend to the wounded, driving everyone out of the prayer room and permitting only the two remaining Cardinals to enter for discussion.

Inside the prayer room, only two Secret Intercessors assisted Riviera. Of the eight gravely injured bloodline knights, five already lay on stretchers, their bodies covered with the white cloths that signified their return to the gods’ embrace. Isaiah, eyes shut tight in a deep coma, was still receiving treatment with holy light. Both his legs were severed below the knee. Though the wounds were properly bandaged, the dark red blood that continuously seeped through indicated that Riviera’s healing arts were not having much of an effect.

“Holy Healing Art is almost completely ineffective on the Knight Commander’s severed limbs…” Riviera rarely spoke on a normal day, so when he suddenly opened his mouth, his voice was somewhat hoarse. “In the blood seeping from his wounds, I discovered a black toxin that seems to have a life of its own. This unknown substance is constantly eroding and corrupting the divine power of his bloodline, relentlessly destroying his once-vibrant life force.”

With that, he ordered a Secret Intercessor to remove the gauze from Isaiah’s legs, revealing the wounds—a mangled pulp of intermingled red and black flesh—to the two Cardinals.

“The black toxin is only a threat to Priests and the Army of Judgment who possess Radiant Divine Magic. It is completely harmless to the Secret Intercessors, who have no extraordinary powers…”

Bamoa frowned and pressed, “So… it’s highly likely a magical toxin developed by the Spellcasters specifically to target us?”

Riviera slowly shook his head and let out a light, self-deprecating laugh. “The three of us know full well that divine arts and magic share the same origin… How could Spellcasters create something that would destroy themselves, and then dare to let it appear so openly before the world?”

“Perhaps some of them are madmen, their minds completely blinded by hatred and dissent…”

Bamoa knew this was just a forced argument, something fundamentally impossible… Neither the High Council of the seven wizard kingdoms nor the Federation of Casters would ever allow such a self-destructive seed to sprout.

Ismael sighed, took out a palm-sized golden box inlaid with precious gems, and from within produced a round pill, which he carefully handed to Riviera.

“A Seed of New Life? His Holiness gave you both of the only two Seeds of New Life he has crafted in recent years?” Bamoa’s eyes widened in astonishment.

Ismael waved his hand, not intending to say more. Riviera understood immediately, leaned down, and placed the pill into Isaiah’s mouth.

A short while later, the Knight Commander, his face as pale as a corpse’s, let out a low groan. His faintly rising and falling chest suddenly swelled, and a long sigh, accompanied by a strange gurgling from his stomach, escaped his throat.

Then, he struggled to open his eyes. His ashen pupils seemed to find focus instantly, locking onto Ismael, who was closest to his bedside.

The Cardinal carefully helped him sit up and asked bluntly, “What happened to the Flameheart order at the northern monastery? What enemy did you encounter?”

Isaiah gasped for breath twice, a pinkish, bloody foam quickly forming at the corner of his mouth. He struggled and growled, “Let me… let me see His Holiness the Pope! Take me to the Chasm of Saints!”

“Tell us the truth first!” Ismael squeezed the man’s shoulder tightly, his expression cold as he pressed on. “His Holiness is in secluded prayer. All affairs of the Holy City have been entrusted to the three of us. I have the right to demand that you report directly to me!”

Under the effect of the medicine, Isaiah gradually came to his senses. He raised his eyes to Bamoa, who was standing before him, and saw the other man nod with a grim face. Only then did he clench his jaw and slowly say, “It was Devils… the Devils of Calamity from the north, foretold in the Divine Revelation. They have occupied the parish of the northern monastery at the foot of the Spine of the Continent Mountains and turned it into a terrifying Hell on earth…”

Devils? The prophecies in the holy texts were merely to enlighten the believers…

Ismael’s heart sank. He said in a trembling voice, “The non-human race from the north! It’s the non-human race currently rampaging through Isengard!”

They had also crossed the Spine of the Continent Mountains to invade human territory from the south. Goris was in the central part of the south, but the northern monastery, being adjacent to the Spine of the Gods Mountains, would naturally be one of their targets!

But it had all happened too quickly… Had the Emperor of St. Valen, who had moved his capital to the Northern Realm, failed to halt their advance?

His thoughts in turmoil, he subconsciously glanced up at Bamoa, then slowly turned his gaze to the solemn-faced Riviera, only to find that his two colleagues were also frozen in place.

Five hundred bloodline knights of the Army of Judgment, plus nearly a thousand elites from the Flameheart and Dark Sun orders who had been dispatched in advance… they had been utterly unable to even resist the non-human race, and only the Knight Commander himself had escaped, grievously wounded.

Once this news got out, the Holy City would likely fall into immediate turmoil. How would the believers, who had always held faith in the Holy See, view them then?

In the past, whether fighting against evil Spellcasters or journeying to Blackstone City to battle Demons, the knight orders of the Army of Judgment had always appeared before the faithful as valiant, fearless, and invincible. Even though the Divine Punishment Faction had suffered frequent setbacks around St. Valen in recent years… thanks to a tight lid on information, the doubts and discussions brought about by those failures were quickly quelled.

“We still have three knight orders stationed within the Holy City. We are not entirely without the power to resist…” Riviera pondered for a moment before speaking, his voice strained and hoarse.

Ismael nodded. “But we still need to report this to His Holiness… When necessary, His Holiness should consider dispatching his Sacred Prayer Guard. That should be the key to our victory.”

Chapter 611: The Intertwining of Light and Dark

The group followed the stone steps that spiraled down from the Church of Divine Grace, entering the subterranean Chasm of Saints. They passed directly through the Privy Section, where the tribunal was located, and arrived at the secret prayer chamber on the deepest level.

A Secret Prayer Acolyte in a gray robe was already waiting at the end of the long, narrow corridor. Upon seeing the Cardinal at the front, he bowed with a calm expression and said, “His Holiness is already aware of the matter, but he will only permit His Excellency Ismael to enter and discuss it.”

Bamoa froze for a moment, then looked down at the languishing Isaiah on the stretcher. In the end, he stopped, his expression dark.

Ismael nodded to Riviera and followed the acolyte into the inner chamber alone.

The room was not so different from the Pope’s small, daily prayer chamber in the Privy Section… A floor of rough, flat stone tiles, four sunless gray walls, and twelve brass lamps of ancient design—these were the things His Holiness would have transported immediately no matter where he moved, to always keep by his side.

Taking a deep breath, Ismael spoke softly to the gray-robed old man who sat cross-legged in the center of the room with his back to him, “Your Holiness, the non-human calamity from the north, prophesied in the sacred texts and Divine Revelations… has appeared near the Holy City. The northern monastery has already fallen.”

The Pope’s stooped shoulders trembled slightly. His dry, hoarse voice said faintly, “I know… This day was bound to come, it simply arrived too soon. We are not yet prepared.”

Ismael’s breathing quickened, and he hurriedly explained, “Please rest assured, Your Holiness. There are still three Orders of Inquisitorial Knights stationed in the Holy City. We are not without the power to fight back… Besides, the Sacred Prayer Guard under your command is also a formidable trump card.”

“The Sacred Prayer Guard…” The Pope slowly turned his head, his old, wrinkled face seeming even more withered than before. “There has been no Sacred Prayer Guard for a long time, Ismael… Over the past thirty years, I have sent one guardsman into the depths of the Chasm of Saints every month. Once they went, they never returned. The last guardsman… departed just before I officially entered seclusion.”

The Cardinal was stunned. After a long moment, he said in astonishment, “Five hundred members of the Sacred Prayer Guard… All of them… are gone?”

He wanted to press for more details, but he suddenly recalled the secret rumors about the Pope’s identity. His already frozen body was suddenly overcome by an irrepressible chill that ran up his spine.

“I know what you are thinking. It matters not… Without the continuous, pious sacrifices of the guardsmen, it would have been impossible for me to live this long. Now, the Holy City no longer has any candidates with the aptitude for transformation…”

The Pope paused, then gave a self-deprecating chuckle before continuing, “So I had no choice but to take a risk. A few days ago… I personally entered the depths of the chasm.”

What lay in the depths of the Chasm of Saints? This was a question Ismael could never answer, no matter how he wracked his brains. Only a faint trace could be discerned from the vague oral traditions passed down through generations of the three Cardinals who held real power in the Holy City—

Since the earliest days of the Church’s founding, the first Pope came from the Chasm of Saints, claiming to have been inspired and blessed by a god, vowing to spread the radiant divine miracles throughout the human kingdoms.

Ever since, the succession of each Pope had been quietly and methodically completed within the Chasm of Saints. Over a hundred years ago, when the previous Pope, His Holiness the Twelfth, felt his life was nearing its end, he voluntarily entered the Chasm of Saints… after which they smoothly welcomed His Holiness the Thirteenth, who has led the Holy See to this day.

The new Pope was almost identical to his predecessor in appearance and build. He inherited the wisdom and foresight passed down for over a thousand years since the Church’s founding, was intimately familiar with all the secrets of the Holy See known to previous Popes, and the God-given sacred arts he taught were even improved upon… He simply looked slightly younger than his decrepit predecessor.

The prevailing theory among the upper echelons of the Holy See was that there had never been a methodical succession of over ten generations of Popes. From beginning to end, there had only been one Pope, who, under the god’s expectations and blessings, had become a worldly immortal, continuously granted a God-given New Life.

At this thought, realization dawned on Ismael. He took several steps back and prostrated himself, his forehead pressed to the ground as he asked in a trembling voice, “Are you… Are you His Holiness, the Fourteenth Pope?”

The old man with white hair and beard shook his head with a bitter smile. “I am still me…” he said slowly. “The god did not grant me the revelation I was due. When I rashly entered the Chasm of Saints, He offered no response at all.”

Has the god stopped answering the Pope’s prayers?

Ismael lifted his head again, unable to hide the lost and helpless look on his face.

“The calamity has manifested, the non-human race has invaded… They have come to destroy us. The Holy City has no ability to resist or counter-attack. Ismael… I command you to gather the remaining knights of the Army of Judgment who are still loyal to the Moderate Faction, as well as the devout Priests and clerics who remain neutral. Lead the people of the Holy City south immediately, and evacuate them to avoid the coming battle of annihilation.”

The Cardinal felt as if his heart had been violently seized. He replied with difficulty, “Your Holiness, abandoning the Holy City, deserting the birthplace where we spread the glory of my Lord, will likely deal a heavy blow to the faith of the entire Holy See… Besides, where could we possibly flee to?”

“It is better than staying here to die. Disperse the Army of Judgment and the faithful throughout the south. St. Valen may be unwilling to accept us, but the royal families of the various kingdoms, as well as the independent parishes and monasteries scattered everywhere, will be our future refuge.”

The Pope paused, then said reassuringly to the terrified Ismael, “The fall of the Holy City does not matter. As long as the flame of the Holy See is preserved throughout the south, we will have a chance to rise again. We must set aside all disputes of prejudice concerning faith and truth and, just as we did over a hundred years ago, join hands with the Spellcasters with all our might to fight against the mortal enemy of the Humans!”

This had always been the stance of the Moderate Faction. If not for the interference of the Divine Punishment Faction, which had risen to prominence in the last ten years or so, the Humans of the south would not have suffered such frequent internal strife among transcendent beings.

A pang of sorrow struck Ismael’s heart. Suppressing his grief, he nodded and asked, “And what about you, Your Holiness? Aren’t you leaving with us?”

His greatest fear, of course, was that the Pope intended to defend the Holy City to the last, leading the equally extreme Divine Punishment Faction to mutual destruction with the impending non-human calamity in order to preserve the final scrap of glory and face for the Church.

If that happened… with the papal succession incomplete, the Church would instantly lose the supreme leader upon whom they depended and relied.

The Thirteenth seemed to have anticipated his thoughts. He blinked, a strange expression on his face, and said with a sigh, “Rest assured. Although I am a useless old codger now, there are still ways for me to contribute what little I have left.”

He coughed twice and struggled to his feet. His gaze was sharp as he looked at Ismael and said, “I will take the 【Relic of Succession】 that I brought out from the Chasm of Saints and travel alone to the Northern Realm of St. Valen… to plead for aid from that Spellcaster Emperor.”

Chapter 612: Collapse

The city wall was filled with the piercing clang of metal on metal, occasionally punctuated by hoarse roars.

Felipe hurried along a narrow passage on the ramparts, faintly hearing screams and cries of pain from ahead.

A squad of Army of Judgment knights, having just arrived as reinforcements, was immediately met with a targeted strike from the sky… a beam of red light, as thick as a man’s waist, descended without warning and slammed viciously onto the old, mottled walls of the Holy City.

The bloodline knights had no time to form a shield wall before they were scattered by the world-shattering blast. Armor and severed limbs flew everywhere, and thick blood trickled down the stairs through the cracks in the wall.

Several high-rank Priests risked taking to the air, but before they could counter with divine arts, they were doused by a rain of black water. The black water transformed into countless fine, sharp needles, forming a black net that enveloped them.

It was an inescapable, dense volley. The Priests’ flesh and blood was pierced like tattered sackcloth. Without even a whimper, they plummeted straight to the ground… on the hard, dry earth below the wall, several more vibrant flowers of flesh and blood bloomed in an instant.

The outer city gate had been completely barricaded with countless massive rolling stones and battering logs. After several failed attempts to blast it open with red light, the enemy decisively turned to scaling the walls directly. The Army of Judgment defenders on the ramparts took up their bows and crossbows, leaning halfway over the crenellations, trading life for life as they fired back at the enemy below.

Felipe could never have imagined that the placid river, which had meandered outside the Holy City and supplied Goris with clean water for centuries, would suddenly spew forth tens of thousands of “Devils.” These enemies, crawling endlessly from the river, were now like a boundless black tidal wave, silently and swiftly surging toward the Holy City.

Many of the enemies, upon reaching the riverbank, immediately unfurled the massive fleshy wings tucked behind their backs. They flapped their wings and took to the air, launching the first assault on the city’s defenders before their ground-based kin could even draw near.

As expected, the defenders on the wall met the first volley of spears from the air. These black crystal spears, which materialized in the enemy’s hands, were thrown with incredible force, capable of piercing straight through heavy iron shields and nailing the soldiers of the Army of Judgment behind them to the wall.

The red-light lightning that occasionally shot from their palms was even more bizarre. Each blast would blow a gap in the crenellations. Nearby defenders caught in even the slightest edge of the blast would suffer severe burns. A direct hit… meant a gruesome end, their bodies blown to pieces.

“How much longer until the Radiant Knight Order arrives with reinforcements?” Felipe grabbed the adjutant who had just run up to the wall, demanding through gritted teeth.

The adjutant’s lips trembled. “Chief Inquisitor,” he cried out in misery, “the Radiant Knight Order has refused your deployment order for reinforcements! They… they are currently at the South Gate, several kilometers away, completing the task of evacuating the last batch of believers and citizens!”

“Those cowards! Damned traitors!” Felipe slammed his fist onto the crenellation. He turned and looked back at the sparse troops that had just assembled inside the city gate—the last remaining forces of the Flameheart and Dark Sun knight orders… fewer than five hundred men. Even if they opened the gates and charged, facing the tens of thousands of the non-human race swarming outside the city would be a futile gesture, like an egg smashing against a rock.

“Chief Inquisitor, the outer wall can’t hold! We should retreat to the inner city and gather our remaining forces to make a stand at the cathedral!”

Felipe felt as if something was caught in his throat. After a moment, he asked dryly, “Those battle-shy cowards… have they safely evacuated all the believers and citizens from the outer city?”

“Mostly. Only a few devout believers who stubbornly refused to leave the monasteries and chapels remain. They’ve now come to the wall to help carry battering logs and rolling stones for the defense.”

The task of evacuating the believers and citizens had been secretly underway for three days, organized by the Moderate Faction. The Divine Punishment Faction had, of course, seen it all but had not intervened to disrupt their plans… After all, despite their different factions and stances, they were still companions who shared the same faith. Each had their own beliefs to uphold and practice; there was no need to turn on each other with blades drawn.

But looking at it now, the Moderate Faction had long predicted they might not be able to defend the Holy City. Their move to evacuate the believers ahead of time was, in fact, a wise decision to preserve their effective strength.

Felipe clenched his fists and gave an order without another word, “Hold for another quarter of an hour! Ensure the wall is not breached, no matter what. Dispatch a group of high-rank Army of Judgment knights to hold back those winged devils that have broken into the city. Buy more time for the evacuating troops.”

The adjutant nodded with a grave expression and was about to turn and relay the order.

Suddenly, a sharp whistling sound cut through the air by the Chief Inquisitor’s ear!

Felipe didn’t even have time to turn his head. He instinctively dropped and rolled away… a slender black crystal spear was stuck straight into the spot where he had just been standing. The downward angle and the force with which it had embedded itself in the stone made him shudder.

Just as he was about to twist and get back to his feet, the city wall beneath him suddenly trembled slightly—a rhythmic vibration that seemed to come from the base of the wall, or perhaps even deeper underground.

Before he could process it, a much more violent tremor struck, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground again, completely caught off guard… In the distance, on the section of the wall where troops were heavily concentrated for defense, terrified screams and the shuffle of chaotic footsteps mingled together.

Before he could get up again, Felipe immediately turned his head toward the source of the chaos—several dozen meters away, the eastern section of the wall had cracked open, forming a massive breach that reached all the way to its foundation. The watchtower on the wall tilted slowly and collapsed like building blocks. Countless siege weapons were flung into the air, then crashed heavily into the city. Flying stones and rolling logs smashed through the numerous empty wooden houses behind, sending up a cloud of dust that blotted out the sun.

How could there be a sudden earthquake?

Before Felipe could recover his senses, a second shockwave from deep underground struck, widening the already existing breach in the wall. A several-hundred-meter section of the rampart simply melted away, collapsing into a bottomless chasm below.

And the massive fissure that had suddenly appeared, cutting through the inside and outside of the wall, shot like lightning into the city. The terrifying, monstrous chasm swallowed all buildings in its path, and in the blink of an eye, it formed a deep canyon that reached all the way to the Radiant Cathedral.

From his vantage point on the shattered wall, the magnificent and holy Radiant Cathedral looked as if it was teetering on the edge of an abyss. The four thick pillars in front of the cathedral’s main hall, having lost their support from the ground below, held for only a few breaths before slowly toppling over like melting candles.

Felipe watched, helpless, as the rose dome—meticulously carved and constructed by generations of master craftsmen—lost the support of its columns. The stained glass, adorned with numerous holy icons, shattered and disintegrated one after another like a torrential downpour…

The Radiant Cathedral… had collapsed right before his eyes.

Chapter 613: Magicalized Armor

As the tallest building in Starfire City, the top floor of the New Federation building was always the first to be bathed in the Northern Realm’s morning sun.

At sixteen stories and nearly a hundred meters tall, it was hardly towering or imposing when compared to the Celestial Domain’s Mage Tower suspended above Araye… The square, orderly, pure gray building was not only plain and unremarkable in its design compared to the intricate and fantastical architecture of the City of Magic, but even its building materials were no different from the ordinary two- or three-story residential buildings below.

But Salas knew very well… this building had been constructed purely through the technology and strength of mortals, whereas the Celestial Domain had to rely on a floating formation that had been in continuous operation for nearly a hundred years, consuming an untold number of magic stones and rare materials.

The great feat of mortals rivaling magic was something that likely only Harvey, that unique emperor who was also a spellcaster, had the means and power to put into practice. On some level… it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call him “Legendary.”

After officially moving to the Northern Realm, Salas had become even more reclusive than his old colleague, Dawson. Dawson had completely cast aside the numerous decision-making duties he had shouldered in the old Federation, throwing himself wholeheartedly into the research of creating a new school of casting. Not only was he getting along famously with that group of newly-transferred “Soul Mages” from the Academy of Sciences, but he had also deigned to accept a special appointment from the Northern Realm’s magic academy, becoming an unprecedented “Legendary” professor. His weekly lecture on deep theoretical research into arcane casting was so popular that even the high-level casters under the Emperor were happy to make time to sit in.

Salas, on the other hand, had politely declined the academy’s sincere invitation. Using the excuse that his mobility was limited due to mana depletion caused by his Soul-Splitting Sickness, he spent long periods on the top floor of the Federation building, only occasionally casting his gaze upon the several new research project groups established below, offering them minor guidance on their magical energy evolution projects.

The two Legendary Chiefs, almost in unison, chose to steer clear of the research on alchemical weapons and constructs conducted by Harvey’s inner circle. They neither actively interfered in any experimental processes nor casually inquired about any military or political affairs within the United Kingdom.

In a sense, this was a display of their sincerity and “compliance” in choosing to join the Northern Realm’s faction. Forcing the New Federation to abandon its past factional struggles and the tradition of forming cliques, so that everyone could participate and contribute purely as individuals, was a situation that both sides were happy to see.

“Where did Lord Dawson go today?” Salas beckoned an attendant and casually asked in a low voice.

“He went to the magic academy early this morning… er, I believe it was to prepare for a theoretical debate scheduled for this afternoon.”

Salas nodded and chuckled. “He doesn’t seem worried at all that the research on the Demonic Lizardmen has made no progress…”

The attendant bowed with an obsequious smile. Seeing the Chief’s expression of utter boredom, he cautiously leaned in and said, “His Majesty the Emperor sent over a new ‘little gadget’ he developed late last night. He said he would like you to take a look… there might be room for improvement and optimization.”

Salas furrowed his brow and gave a helpless smile. “What, another strange soul construct? His mountain of research literature on the domain of the soul has already tortured Dawson enough. Is he planning to torment me now? Fine… bring it here and let me see!”

Not long after the attendant retreated, two lab assistants walked in, pushing a small cart.

They lifted the cloth covering the cart, revealing a complexly shaped, exquisitely structured, yet thoroughly bizarre alchemical construct. It had a layered construction resembling an insect’s jointed limbs, and was directly disassembled into several mechanical unit modules. The joints exposed internal gear-driven mechanisms, and the flowing external contours seemed to conform to the structure of human musculature.

Salas snapped his fingers lightly, closing his eyes to probe it for a moment… He discovered that although it was forged from magical minerals with special ductility, it possessed none of the expected mana fluctuations within.

“It’s not equipped with a Soul Core… nor is it driven by a magical-powered system.” He raised an eyebrow at the two lab assistants. “Aren’t these alchemical cybernetics designed for a mortal body?”

The lab assistants gave an awkward smile and explained humbly, “It came from His Majesty’s private laboratory, so we have no way of knowing its specific function… Please refer to the, er… Recording Stone instruction manual provided by His Majesty, Chief Excellency.”

Salas nodded. After watching the two of them bow and retreat, he slowly picked up the magic stone that had been placed to one side on the cart and tapped it lightly to activate it.

The scene that immediately materialized, however, left him stunned, his mouth falling slightly agape with a strange, astonished expression.

Inside Harvey’s spacious and bright private laboratory, the alchemical device was assembled and suspended from a vertical operating stand. A bare-chested Bloodline Warrior walked up and stood still, allowing two experimental alchemical beasts to move their arms and apply something to his spine and the joints of his neck and shoulders.

Then, the arm of the operating stand slowly lowered, and the alchemical device hanging from it semi-enveloped his body with perfect precision. Salas could clearly see… several small, sharp probes protruded from within, piercing directly into the vital points of the warrior’s spine.

The entire alchemical construct then fitted snugly against the warrior’s back. The connecting clasps at his shoulder, neck, and ribs automatically locked. The operating stand’s arm released, and Harvey’s familiar, gentle voice emanated from the magic stone—

“Soul connection complete. Spinal psychic network link confirmed… Hmm, how do you feel now?”

The warrior grinned, giving Harvey an expression of absolute trust, and chuckled. “Your Majesty, this thing isn’t as heavy as I imagined. It’s just a little… a little restrictive. I feel like I can’t move freely.”

With that, he completely broke free from the operating stand’s arm and tried to take a step forward. His taut leg muscles seemed to twitch slightly under the pressure, but his movements were not slow in the slightest.

“Your Majesty… it’s getting lighter. I… I feel like it’s becoming one with me. I can control—”

“Quiet. Try raising your arm. Channel the energy you feel to the activation device on your wrist.”

Hearing this, the warrior dazedly raised his right hand. Instantly, a row of runes on the scale-like alchemical outer-armor encasing his arm lit up. A small ice blade suddenly appeared at his wrist and shot out, spinning, toward a steel target set up several meters away…

“That’s not a Bloodline Warrior’s innate ability!” Salas’s eyes suddenly flew wide open. He gripped the Recording Stone in his hand tightly and tried to surge his mana into it, but the video recording ended there. No matter how much he tried to power the stone, it was in vain.

“That is definitely not the Bloodline Warrior’s Icy Mantle ability! To be able to project it, to convert energy into an external attack… only, only mana can do that!”

Salas’s gaze was fixed on the disassembled alchemical construct before him, an incredible thought echoing continuously in his mind—Bloodline Warriors could now use this thing to control mana, just like a spellcaster!

“Someone! Go to the academy and bring Dawson back at once! I need to see His Majesty the Emperor with him!”

Chapter 614: Heretical Thought

“That’s the long and short of it…” Harvey spread his hands, speaking helplessly to the two Legendary Chiefs who had rushed over. “The theoretical design is sound, but in practical tests, it has shown no real effect.”

A thin ice blade, half the size of a palm, couldn’t even cut through an Army uniform with its optical camouflage coating at close range. It had no power to speak of.

Dawson pondered for a moment, then walked over to the vertical console where the “Magicalized Armor” was hanging. Pointing at the dense inscriptions carved on the armor’s surface, he said slowly, “Could it be because it doesn’t have a Soul Core installed? If it can’t draw enough mana from the Magic Net, it naturally can’t unleash powerful offensive spells.”

Harvey shook his head and patiently explained, “The Soul Core is just a conversion hub. It can only release the pure magical energy it carries, which means it can’t simulate the effects of elemental magic attacks.”

Salas frowned, no longer caring about being tactful, and asked directly, “If it doesn’t rely on a Soul Core and doesn’t have its own magical-powered system, how can a soldier equipped with Magicalized Armor channel their own bloodline abilities to cast elemental magic that only Spellcasters can learn?”

Harvey chuckled, not intending to keep any secrets. He walked to the semi-enclosed Magicalized Armor, pointed at the thick, long, and intricate construct in the center that resembled a mechanical spine, and said gently, “I’m using the Soul-stitching technique… I extract the soul of a creature with inherent magical attack abilities, but instead of turning it into a core, I break it down and fuse it into the entire suit of armor. Every inscription carved on it acts as a signal transmission node.”

The long string of unheard-of terminology immediately gave Salas and Dawson a headache. It felt as if Harvey wasn’t studying the same arcane art of magic as they were; while they could grasp the general meaning of each new word, the way he combined them into sentences was utterly foreign.

“The Soul-stitching technique… is that the innovative soul theory you used to treat Duncan?”

“That’s right. That attempt, and the series of follow-up studies, gave me a lot of inspiration, which ultimately led to the creation of the Magicalized Armor. Unfortunately, the actual results are less than satisfactory.”

Instinctively, Dawson and Salas exchanged a glance, only to find the same expression on each other’s faces…

It was a complex emotion, a mixture of disappointment and relief. On one hand, they truly hoped Harvey would achieve this unprecedented feat. On the other… they were also relieved that his experiments had hit a temporary setback.

The advent of magical energy weapons had already chipped away at the Spellcasters’ monopoly on supernatural power. If… if the Magicalized Armor was also a success, then mortals who could freely cast all sorts of intricate spells would no longer see them as high-rank avatars of wisdom and power. The Spellcaster community, a group that stood apart from the mortal world, would be knocked completely off their “altar.”

Salas’s lips moved and he hesitated to speak several times, but in the end, he couldn’t help but start a discussion with Harvey. “What kind of magical creature’s soul did you use for the temporary bonding with a human? Could it be that the resulting spells are so weak because the creature’s own soul strength is insufficient?”

Harvey rolled his eyes. “A Demonic Fire Beast—the untamed version of the magical creatures ridden by Demon soldiers. If a creature the size of an Icefield mammoth is considered to have insufficient soul strength… I really can’t find a more suitable benchmark.”

Wyrm-type demonic beasts were already on the verge of extinction in both the northern and southern realms, making them nearly impossible to find.

Dawson, however, pondered for a moment before seeking the other two’s opinions. “Perhaps we should contact Gallagher. He deals with the Demons in the Evil Moon Mountain Range year-round. As you know… the Demons are experts at taming all sorts of rare and ancient magical creatures.”

Although they held titles as honorary Chiefs of the New Federation, Dawson, Salas, and Gallagher all essentially deferred to Harvey as the founder. Since this was his personal magical experiment, even though he had openly shared it, they felt it best to consult him at every stage when it came to their own involvement.

Harvey immediately understood the Legendary Mage’s intention, smiling and waving his hand. “Not at all. I invited you both, Your Excellencies, to discuss this with me. Requesting some extra assistance from His Excellency Gallagher would be wonderful, of course.”

This sincere, open attitude immediately made Salas smile in relief. He raised a hand, had his personal guard bring over a full-length mirror coated in Mithril, and used a unique communication spell to connect with Gallagher, who was thousands of miles away.

“Ahem… Salas, Dawson… uh, Your Majesty Harvey? The three of you are…” The figure of the black-robed Legendary Mage in the silver mirror gradually came into focus. Seeing the three of them standing shoulder to shoulder, staring at him intently, he was immediately puzzled. “Why the sudden call? Have the Demonic Lizardmen on the central defense line made a move again?”

Harvey didn’t get straight to the point, however, instead making some pleasant small talk with a smile. “Your Excellency Gallagher, how have things been in Blackstone City recently?”

“Heh heh, since the Church packed up and left, life in Blackstone City has been more peaceful than in the past few decades. I submitted a unilateral request to the Federation to separate my Mage Corps, but I haven’t heard back yet… However, the usual timely supplies seem to have been indefinitely postponed recently.”

This was to be expected. One of the three Chiefs had suddenly declared independence with the nearly thousand-strong Blackstone City Mage Corps, while the other two had secretly fled Araye for the Northern Realm. The City of Magic was likely in utter chaos, with various factions and groups fighting tooth and nail over the division of power. They wouldn’t have the time to bother with Blackstone City, where there was no active conflict.

Gallagher paused, tapping the mirror’s surface with a finger and smiling joyfully. “However, the new Guns of Annihilation sent by Your Majesty Harvey, along with all the high-quality, precious magic stones and bulk supply shipments… are more than enough for the independent Corps’ daily operations. Although there are no Demon incursions right now, we’ve firmly established our position north of Vile Moon Mountain. Their frontline central fortress is now under our control.”

Dawson, finding the tedious back-and-forth pleasantries unbearable, finally cut in. “Find a way to get two Wyrm-type demonic beasts to Starfire City!”

“No problem… What? Wyrms? What kind of pipe dream is this!” Gallagher’s eyebrow shot up as he scoffed. “Where am I supposed to get Wyrms for you? From the Demon Overlord’s lair?”

Salas waved a hand and asked, “Are there any Demonic war beasts stronger than a Demonic Fire Beast?”

“Impossible… A Source Beast is simply an untamed war beast, its bloodline purer than the cross-bred varieties the Demons use. Their Ascendants might privately tame certain mutant demonic beasts, but as you know… there’s no sign of Ascendant activity for hundreds of kilometers north of the Vile Moon battlefield.”

The Demons were suspected to be locked in a fierce battle with the Demonic Lizardmen in the far north, so it was impossible for their powerful combatants to be redeployed to the south.

Harvey sighed helplessly and patiently explained the specific difficulties of the Magicalized Armor research and development project the three of them had just started.

Gallagher was completely bewildered at first, only finally understanding the reason after the three explained it to him repeatedly.

“The soul of the magical creature used for bonding with the armor isn’t strong enough… so soldiers who equip it can’t unleash powerful magical attacks?”

The Legendary Mage, who came from a battle mage background, had always been direct in his approach to problems. He blurted out almost instinctively—

“Then why not just strip some soul fragments from a Spellcaster and use them for the bonding with another Spellcaster, the test subject? With the soul’s ability to self-repair, there shouldn’t be any issues with rejection or strength, right? This way… Spellcasters would no longer have to worry about the barriers between schools of magic! An Arcane Mage could practice elemental magic, and a Necromancer could perform stellar divination! It would be an unprecedented, magnificent breakthrough!”

The three on the other end of the Mithril mirror were all stunned for a moment, then couldn’t help but denounce him in unison, “That’s absolute heresy!”

Chapter 615: A Meeting in the Magic Net

Starfire City, Northern Realm. New Federation building.

Salas waved his hand lightly, closing the illusory book floating before him. He turned to Dawson and sighed, “The ancient magical creature encyclopedias don’t list any suitable candidates for soul grafting, at least not among the non-extinct species currently active on the northern and southern continents.”

Dawson nodded, though his eyes remained fixed on the Magic Brain device. “I’ve also searched the magical treasury in the Celestial Domain,” he muttered, “and I can’t find a suitable choice either…”

He looked up, a wistful expression on his face. “Do you think… that those remarks of Gallagher’s, which are practically heresy, are actually feasible? I really don’t know how his mind works, to be able to propose an idea even more shocking than His Majesty Harvey’s.”

Salas gave a helpless, bitter smile. “From the way those two are happily chatting across thousands of kilometers, it’s clear they’re probably the same kind of person—never ones to play by the rules, always happy to take the unorthodox path.”

Unfortunately, although Gallagher was Legendary-rank like them, he was still fundamentally a battle mage. When it came to profound and esoteric principles, he only understood the “what,” not the “why.”

Perhaps they could try contacting some of the old-timers in the High Wizard Council with extensive collections, and see if they could find a magical creature suitable for improving the Soul Armor…

He opened his mouth, about to make the suggestion to Dawson… when an unassuming brass ring he always wore on his right pinky finger suddenly let out a faint glimmer of light.

An almost imperceptible mana fluctuation pulsed from it. The Legendary Mage’s previously relaxed hands clenched into fists, and his brow furrowed as he remained silent.

Dawson, too, keenly sensed something. He turned to look at his old colleague, and after a long pause, his voice came out dry and hoarse. “How could… it suddenly…”

Salas narrowed his eyes and said in a low voice, “According to my agreement with… Since the contact was initiated… I must respond.”

He turned to look at the Planet-level Energy-gathering Array standing in the center of the room. The massive, brass-colored cylindrical device was emitting a continuous, low hum. “Dawson, I plan to use this to enter the Plane of the Magic Net. I’ll have to trouble you to assist me from the side.”

Compared to entering the Magic Net space through meditation, using the energy-gathering array’s cross-planar connection was indeed more convenient… But choosing this method meant that all of Salas’s activities in the Magic Net would be under the close surveillance of Harvey, the “central host.” Not only would Harvey be able to track Salas’s precise location in real time, but he could also sever his deep connection to the Magic Net at will.

He might even be able to directly locate the being Salas was meeting in the Magic Net.

“Are you worried that… meeting that person in the Magic Net might be dangerous? So you’re deliberately leaving a trail to signal Harvey to intervene if necessary?”

For a rare moment, a bewildered look appeared on Salas’s face. He murmured softly, “Perhaps he isn’t here to see me at all. Otherwise, why in all my decades in Araye did I never once receive a signal from him requesting a meeting…”

With those words, the two fell into an awkward silence. Wasting no more time, Salas walked to a metal experimental table beside the energy-gathering array. He lay down fully clothed on the Magic Net connection device and reached up to gently place the mask from its metal hanger over his face.

The familiar sensation of falling vanished in an instant. When he opened his eyes again, he was within the vast, empty expanse of the Magic Net space.

Salas composed himself and quickly scanned his surroundings but found no other suspicious targets… It seemed he hadn’t alerted Harvey, nor drawn his attention or pursuit… After all, having roamed the Magic Net for many years, he was confident he had many ways to detect signs of surveillance.

Besides, the Plane of the Magic Net wasn’t like the real world; it lacked physical spatial concepts like direction and distance. Although he knew the area he was in was most likely completely under Harvey’s control, Salas wasn’t worried about appearing right next to the other man’s magical runes the moment he entered… and he honestly had no desire to know the coordinates of the magical “freak’s” runes.

The brass ring on his right pinky finger continued to emit a soft glow. its chaotic blinking frequency clearly transmitting a constantly changing set of planar coordinates to Salas, as if invisibly urging him to proceed at once.

Sighing softly, he raised a hand and pointed at his own magical runes floating before him. The originally dim, gray, hollow circle suddenly lit up as if electrified, and the three dead, star-like spheres within it immediately began to slowly orbit.

Then, a formidable and unparalleled mana fluctuation erupted from within his magical runes, spreading out rapidly like a tidal wave. The intangible pressure unique to the Legendary-rank emanated from him, startling the few scattered Magic Spirits roaming nearby, who scurried into the vein-like conduits to hide.

Salas’s phantom form transformed into a streak of light and instantly shot into his now-unmasked magical runes, hurtling away into the dark void beyond…

A moment later, a long, thin spatial fissure suddenly split open in the area he had just vacated. Harvey stepped out and frowned in puzzlement as he watched the Legendary Chief’s trail of sparks and lightning.

“Roaming the Magic Net is one thing, but to make a bigger spectacle than me, the Emperor, on a royal tour… Are all you Legendary Casters this flamboyant when you move through other dimensions?”

He suddenly tilted his head and thought for a moment, muttering to himself, “Could it be that Lord Salas created this spectacle on purpose… His original goal was to startle me and get my attention?”

But he was currently at a critical stage of an experiment and couldn’t get away for a while… let alone tail the other man on a trip through the Magic Net with an unknown destination.

“Tsk… Forget it. It’s best not to get involved in the affairs of Legendary Casters.”

After shaking his head with a distinct lack of interest, Harvey turned around and dove back into the slowly closing spatial fissure.

Then, the magical runes behind him slowly materialized. They were strangely… cold and silent like a full moon. The structure of his magical runes, which had swelled to an immense size, warped the surrounding Magic Net conduits, completely and forcibly occupying the previously empty-looking area.

…

Following the coordinates transmitted by the brass ring, Salas changed direction a full three times before he finally, just barely, arrived at the designated location.

The area looked unremarkable. Even the dense network of Magic Net conduits was somewhat sparse. There were no naturally occurring spatial fissures nearby, nor any traces of recent Spellcaster activity.

A grayish-white humanoid phantom floated silently in the distance, neither making a sound nor emitting the slightest mana fluctuation.

Salas maneuvered his magical runes to approach slowly, then manifested his own phantom projection. After a moment of silence, he slowly bowed to the figure—

“It’s been a long time… teacher.”

Chapter 616: A Call for Help

“It’s been a long time, teacher…” A gray-white figure gradually came into focus in Salas’s vision.

Dressed in a gray clerical robe, the gaunt and aged Thirteenth Pope nodded slowly and returned his greeting with a faint smile, “Indeed it has been a long time, Salas…”

He paused, his gaze falling upon the brass ring the Legendary Mage always wore on the little finger of his left hand. He said with a sigh of reminiscence, “No matter what happened, I always believed you would honor the promise between us. It seems now that you haven’t disappointed me.”

Salas felt uncomfortable with these pleasantries after nearly fifty years. He paused for a moment, then got straight to the point, “Are you hoping to speak directly with His Majesty Harvey through me?”

The Pope nodded with great candor. “The Church cannot withstand the premature non-human calamity. You and I both know this very well… The Federation can’t handle it either. Other than this Spellcaster Emperor who reigns over the Northern Realm, I have no one else to turn to for help.”

Hearing these words, Salas raised an eyebrow, his tone tinged with sarcasm. “So, you’re finally willing to admit, teacher, that your strategy of betting on both sides—on both the Radiant Church and the Federation—has failed, haven’t you?”

The Pope was taken aback for a moment but showed no anger. Instead, he explained calmly, “I founded the Federation myself. If I hadn’t seized power from the Twelfth Pope back then, the south would have likely declined into ruin amidst endless infighting long ago, without even needing a non-human invasion.”

Salas couldn’t help but take two steps forward, pressing in a low voice, “But after you seized power in the Church, you did not bring lasting peace to the south… The Church’s Divine Punishment Faction remained as rampant as ever, and witch hunters were prevalent. Spellcasters of noble birth acted like fence-sitters, showing no mercy in harming their own colleagues at the Church’s behest.”

Many secular kingdoms, at the Holy See’s direction, openly and secretly ostracized and isolated their independent casters, painting them in the minds of the populace as cold, arrogant, and aloof.

The so-called peace treaty between the Church and the Federation had undercurrents surging beneath it, stained with the blood of countless innocents.

“True. I had thought that by using the Church’s power to pressure those independent casters, I could make them rally more closely around the Federation and serve you wholeheartedly. I never imagined… it would allow the Divine Punishment Faction, which had been secretly building its strength within the Holy See, to rise.”

He paused, then said with a hint of helplessness, “By the time I realized the root of the problem, I was already deep in the crisis of my mana fading… I had my hands full just trying to prolong my own life using the Church’s inherited secret arts. How could I have had any leeway to mediate the conflict of faith between you and the Holy See?”

Salas opened his mouth, the word “hypocrite” nearly escaping his lips. He turned it over in his throat several times before finally managing to swallow it back down.

His teacher, the founder of the Federation of Casters… hadn’t acted against the then-reigning Twelfth Pope to resolve the infighting between the two sides at all.

As the only remaining Legendary Caster among the Humans of the south since the Dragon War, he had been dedicated to exploring the path of advancement beyond Legendary to the rank of demigod ever since founding the Federation. He yearned to become… a being who could transcend the limits of life in a mortal body.

But alas, fate had other plans. After numerous risky experiments, his teacher came to the stark realization that the path of magic alone seemed impossible to traverse. The ironclad fact that there was no precedent left him with no examples to follow.

At the same time, the signs of his mana beginning to fade… and his lifespan, which stellar divination foretold was drawing to an end, all pushed him to take a desperate risk to find a way out for himself.

It followed logically that the Twelfth Pope, rumored to have mastered the Holy See’s forbidden Rebirth Ceremony, became the target his teacher chose to replace and take over.

Thinking of this, Salas turned his head to look at the wizened old man before him, a gloating sense of satisfaction rising in his heart. “It seems the Holy See’s forbidden divine art can’t extend a mortal’s life indefinitely either. signs of decay are still unavoidably appearing on your body, teacher. And the mana within you is even…”

He stopped abruptly, his brow furrowing in disbelief. “Teacher, you… your body’s mana channels…” he stammered in astonishment.

The Pope shrugged and said in a gentle voice, “They have long since decayed and degenerated… and have finally vanished completely from my body. I am now an ordinary man, completely unable to cast magic or divine arts. Aside from the precious knowledge I’ve accumulated over two hundred years, my life, too, is about to reach its end.”

“However… I haven’t just been sitting idly by. At the very least, after the Rotting Plague incident in St. Valen, I did my utmost to suppress the Divine Punishment Faction’s momentum on your behalf. Otherwise, even with the Spear of Radiance being completely annihilated in Goldshine City… Bamoa and Felipe would have very likely dispatched two more knight orders from the Army of Judgment to seek revenge. They might have even incited the Isengard royal family to use the opportunity to attack you.”

No wonder…

Salas’s face was grim as he remained silent, but his mind was racing. No wonder the Holy See’s attitude had been so strangely passive in its various clashes with Harvey. Nearly every time the Divine Punishment Faction suffered a setback in St. Valen, they never mounted a counter-offensive to make a comeback. This had invisibly given the fledgling Northern Realm regime plenty of opportunities to breathe and develop.

He contemplated for a moment before speaking, “We are not surprised that the Church cannot fend off the Demonic Lizardmen… but there doesn’t seem to be much need for you to seek aid from His Majesty Harvey.”

“Knowing you can’t defend the Holy City, you would surely leave the Divine Punishment Faction behind as cannon fodder against the non-human race’s assault, buying enough time for your own core followers to evacuate, wouldn’t you?”

“If I’m not mistaken, you will then arrange for them to relocate to independent parishes throughout the south, to gather their strength anew and plot a comeback…”

Salas’s voice carried a barely suppressed indignation. He finally took a deep breath and demanded in a low voice, “Teacher, you, just like us, come from a background of spellcasters who believe in the path of magic, where wisdom and truth coexist… But why do you now value the Church’s legacy and future more than the real Pope ever did? Could it be that in your century of ruling the Holy See, you have truly witnessed ethereal gods descending to the world, to sow blessings and glory upon all?”

The Pope gave a bitter smile, listening quietly to his only student’s relentless denunciation. Suddenly, he seemed to notice something, raising an eyebrow and cutting off Salas’s unending tirade.

“You want to know the specific reason? Heh, I believe this His Majesty Harvey, whom I’m meeting for the first time… should be able to explain it to you for me.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Salas heard a familiar voice suddenly emerge from behind him.

“Uh… my apologies, I didn’t mean to come here and eavesdrop.” Harvey gently raised a hand and pressed down on Salas, who was about to turn his head to look at him. He reminded him in a soft voice, “Lord Salas, for certain reasons I cannot disclose, I suggest you do not turn to look at me right now.”

With that, he shifted his gaze to the gray-robed old man ahead and saw that since his appearance… the other man had also wisely sensed some kind of danger and had chosen to shut his eyes tightly.

Harvey chuckled lightly, and the fingers resting on Salas’s shoulder twitched. He explained abruptly, “Your teacher… that is, the founder of the Federation, likely failed to handle the soul fusion properly when he absorbed the Twelfth Pope. In the end, he was uncontrollably tainted by the Pope’s soul fragments. By the time he realized something was wrong… heh, it was already too late.”

Chapter 617: A Shocking Truth

Although the Thirteenth Pope’s eyes were tightly shut, a self-deprecating look still managed to form on his face.

“His Majesty Harvey is correct, and the facts have indeed proven it… The ancient fusion ritual was not without its flaws. When I devoured the previous Pope, I was completely unaware. By the time I realized my own soul had been corrupted, it was already irreversible.”

And so, the two once-separate souls of transcendent beings gradually merged over time, corrupting one another until they were indistinguishable, finally becoming a mental amalgam of highly blended thoughts, memories, and even beliefs.

The Thirteenth Pope had completely shed his identity as the founder of the Federation, ultimately replacing his predecessor and becoming the successor to his faith.

Harvey shrugged and chuckled. “You probably don’t know this, but the Flesh and Soul Fusion Ritual you taught Lord Salas ended up causing the Chief quite a bit of trouble. He was nearly trapped to death in the dark channels of the Plane of the Magic Net.”

Salas snorted at the mention of this but offered no further explanation.

The Pope, however, frowned and couldn’t help but scold him, “When I left, I warned you repeatedly that the Flesh and Soul Fusion Ritual, passed down from ancient times, is an exceptionally dangerous process… You were not to attempt it unless absolutely necessary!”

Salas shook his head and explained impatiently, “How would you know I didn’t run into a difficult problem, teacher? If I hadn’t been suffering from the torment of Soul-Splitting Sickness for over a decade, which drastically shortened my lifespan… I would never have recklessly attempted such a dangerous ritual.”

Harvey tilted his head, suddenly noticing a recurring pattern in Chief Salas’s lineage: fractured master-apprentice relationships seemed to be the norm. Not only was the tension between him and his teacher, the current Pope, palpable, but his own student, Mr. Son of Flame, also seemed to be at odds with him.

Could it be that they have a time-honored tradition of masters and apprentices loving and killing one another?

Patting the Chief on the shoulder, Harvey immediately steered the conversation back to the crucial point. “Should I address you as Your Holiness the Pope, or Mr. Founder of the Federation?”

“It matters not. My True Name is Friedrich Calvin, a name likely no one in the Federation remembers anymore. Your Majesty may call me whatever you wish.”

Harvey nodded and explained gently, “Your Excellency Calvin, I did not follow Lord Salas all the way here… As a mortal who has completely lost his mana, you must be relying on a certain object you carry to travel between the physical world and the Magic Net space, aren’t you?”

He paused, his gaze locking onto the old man before him, and continued, “And this object you carry is of extreme importance to me. Even within the Magic Net space, I can sense its presence at all times.”

Harvey was almost certain that Calvin had intended to use the strange properties of this object, with Salas as a lure, to bring him here for a meeting.

As expected, Calvin smiled upon hearing this. “Indeed, Your Majesty’s guess is entirely correct… You would call it a Magic Core. As for the Church, we prefer to call it a Legacy Fragment.”

A Legacy Fragment?

Harvey’s eyebrows shot up, and he pressed on, “Are you saying… it was originally a single whole?”

A corner of Calvin’s mouth curled up with interest as he teased, “Of course. When Your Majesty devoured the other Legacy Fragments, did you not learn the truth from the fragment of ancient memory you inherited?”

“Back then, after my people stole the Legacy from the continental heartland, we sought to prevent the other races from discovering what had happened… A coalition of three hundred and twenty Dragon Chasers worked together to split it into twelve parts. Each part was then entrusted to one of the twelve surviving human tribal leaders to be taken back to the south and hidden in secret.”

Harvey’s heart leaped in his chest. Stunned, he asked, “Stole the Legacy?”

He finally understood now. When he devoured the Magic Core buried deep beneath the Spine of the Continent Mountains, it had repeatedly mentioned “following the law, for aggregation and completion is the essence.”

These so-called Magic Cores were originally fragments that had been artificially separated. Naturally, they would be drawn to each other by instinct, actively moving closer to other fragments and seeking to merge… No wonder he could so clearly sense Calvin’s coordinates in the Magic Net space.

In essence, it was the other core he carried that was causing the phenomenon.

Calvin, however, seemed unaware of the specific details of what happened after Harvey devoured the Magic Core. Instead, he took the initiative to say, “Although Your Majesty may not have grasped the true value contained within the Legacy Fragments, judging by the mutation of your own magical runes… you should understand what it means for a Spellcaster. The power of laws is not something a short-lived species like us humans can easily control. Blindly devouring it will only lead to the infinite expansion of your Mental Anchor. Once you reach the limit of what you can bear… I’m afraid it will trigger a violent collapse effect, resulting in the utter annihilation of the soul.”

The limit of what I can bear? Harvey subconsciously glanced back at the gigantic magical runes floating silently behind him. They had expanded to the size of a full moon. The surface of the star-like polyhedron constantly bulged and retracted as countless irregular edges emerged. Its immense volume crushed and distorted the already sparse Magic Net conduits in the vicinity.

After he had devoured the first Magic Core, it had indeed begun to expand slowly. Every time Harvey connected to a newly forged Soul Alchemical Beast through Starfire City’s vast energy-gathering array network… or established a mental link with a new Energy-devouring beetle, the magical runes would swell even larger. It could even tear open an artificial spatial fissure in the Plane of the Magic Net to conceal itself within.

But… Harvey didn’t feel like he was gradually approaching any limit. Both his mental energy and mana felt perfect, as if they were inexhaustible. The Mental Anchor within his magical runes was as stable as ever. Simultaneously controlling millions of Energy-devouring beetles was a task he could perform with ease.

Forcibly suppressing the multitude of questions swirling inside him, Harvey asked Calvin in a solemn voice, “So the Demonic Lizardmen are invading the south… for the Legacy Fragments?”

Calvin spread his hands and nodded. “Correct. Once the fragments begin to reunite, they can immediately sense their presence. Reclaiming their stolen legacy is, naturally, a matter of utmost urgency.”

These words left Harvey utterly dumbfounded.

The arrival of the Demonic Lizardmen was not some long-planned invasion or a spur-of-the-moment decision by a powerful race from the continental heartland… It was because he had unintentionally devoured the first Legacy Fragment, triggering the irreversible rule of aggregation, which had in turn alerted them.

The crisis that threatened the very survival of the human race… was caused by his own hand?

Chapter 618: An Agreement is Reached

“As you said, the Legacy Fragment held by the Holy See comes with the power of laws called ‘New Life’?” Harvey asked after a moment of contemplation.

Salas, who had been silent all this time, suddenly spoke up, “Teacher, since you replaced the previous Pope for the sake of this New Life Core, why do you look like this now? Can’t even a Legacy Fragment help you ascend to a higher level of life?”

Calvin gave a wry smile and shook his head. After Harvey had once again concealed the massive magical runes, Calvin’s eyes finally opened. “The methods for using the Legacy Fragments were lost to the long river of time centuries ago. Even the descendants of the twelve tribal leaders who originally obtained them have probably seen their bloodlines die out by now. The Church’s records state that we acquired it near the end of the Dragon War. After hundreds of years of research, we’ve only discovered a few of its characteristics.”

The creation and transformation of the Demon Slayers and the Sacred Prayer Guard relied primarily on the fragment’s special properties, becoming a formidable power upon which the Holy See depended.

“If I’m not mistaken, the creation and emergence of many of the Church’s divine arts in recent decades are also thanks to the Legacy Core, aren’t they?” Harvey narrowed his eyes. “There seems to be traces of magic integrated into them. From this, it’s clear that you also draw pure energy from the Magic Net space, converting it for your own use through a special method.”

Calvin nodded with a self-deprecating laugh. “Ever since Your Majesty’s research paper revealing the principles behind the transformation of bloodline knights was published, we’ve suspected that you might have noticed this issue. The innovative divine arts, which have integrated the rules of magic, have indeed greatly increased the Church’s combat strength. But at the same time… it’s also made us just as vulnerable to non-human enemies as Spellcasters are.”

He spread his hands and spoke to Harvey with a sincere tone, “Right now, Goris is under attack by the non-human races. Although the Divine Punishment Faction is fighting desperately, intending to live or die with the Holy City… I estimate that the entire city will fall completely within five days at the earliest. Then, the tens of thousands of followers and ordinary believers slowly evacuating the Holy City will likely be unable to escape the pursuit and slaughter of the non-human races.”

“I would like to offer this Legacy Fragment held by the Holy See in exchange for Your Majesty sending troops to the rescue… You don’t need to retake Goris for us. We only need you to temporarily halt the enemy’s offensive, giving us enough time to evacuate.”

Before Harvey could respond, Salas interjected, “Teacher, I’m afraid you don’t just want to borrow our strength to buy time for your followers to escape. You also intend to use the enemy to weaken the United Kingdom’s effective strength, don’t you?”

The Demonic Lizardmen besieging the Holy City must have come from the massive underground tidal river beneath Goris that runs through the Spine of the Continent Mountains. Using this natural troop transport route, the non-human races could cross the Natural barrier and enter the south with impunity. To plug this gap… the United Kingdom would have to pay an enormous price.

Putting aside the casualties and losses of troops involved, the strategic supplies and resource transportation alone would be an astronomical figure. This would have a domino effect… inevitably impacting the Isengard border defense line and the ice sea front, which was a great distance away.

He turned to Harvey and advised in a low voice, “Your Majesty, please think this through carefully. Occupying the mountain kingdom of Arid and defending from a position of topographical advantage is clearly more beneficial to our war effort than sending troops to Goris to intercept the Demonic Lizardmen.”

Harvey thought for a moment, then looked up at Calvin. “Since Your Excellency believes the Holy See can hold out in the Holy City for at most five more days, why don’t we make an agreement first… Once you hand over the Legacy Core, I will immediately send reinforcements. However, the United Kingdom will not act as the main combat force to engage the enemy directly in Goris. Whether you can buy enough evacuation time for the ordinary believers in the city… will still depend on whether the Divine Punishment Faction stationed there truly has the resolve to fight to the death without retreating.”

Calvin was taken aback, asking in confusion, “Then how does Your Majesty intend to act? Without deploying your vast magical army, relying solely on the Divine Punishment Faction’s less than ten thousand members of the Army of Judgment stationed in the city, even with an equal number of believers staying behind, we have no way of resisting the endlessly reinforcing non-human races.”

“Then we’ll cut off their reinforcement route!” Harvey waved his hand decisively. “I know where they came from and how they silently crossed the Spine of the Continent Mountains to launch a surprise attack on you. As long as we sever that underground passage, even if the Winged ones can fly over the Natural barrier to continue south, I believe their numbers won’t be too large… You naturally have ways to deal with their small units.”

Having said that, he no longer hesitated and directly raised his hand toward Calvin. “So… Your Excellency Calvin, you can now entrust the Legacy Fragment to me as a testament to the sincerity of our agreement, can’t you?”

Calvin let out a sigh, knowing there was nothing more he could say. With a bitter expression, he said, “No matter how you plan to reinforce Goris, I can only choose to believe you unconditionally now… Your Majesty, please be sure to honor our agreement.”

Salas slowly moved to stand behind Harvey, guarding against any potential surprises.

The stooped, aged Thirteenth Pope raised his hands, bringing them together in front of his chest in an embracing gesture. Then, a translucent, deep-red, lozenge-shaped gemstone slowly seeped out of his body. It was about the size of a vertical spindle, its surface shining with an unusual luster, as if it had been polished and carved by a master craftsman.

The moment the Magic Core… or rather, the Legacy Fragment, appeared, Harvey felt an indescribable craving surge from the depths of his Mental Anchor, as if an instinct was driving him to approach it.

Without another word, he immediately pointed a finger, guiding the levitating core to fly swiftly toward him, where it silently disappeared into his chest.

Salas was stunned. “Your Majesty? Is… is the process of devouring and fusion complete?”

Harvey shook his head and smiled. “How could that be possible? I’ve only temporarily housed it, using my mental energy to isolate it from myself. We can consider the next steps in a safe environment after we return to the real world.”

With that, he looked at Calvin again and noticed that his projection in the Plane of the Magic Net was gradually blurring. It seemed that his connection to this other dimension would be severed soon, and the projection would completely dissipate.

“Does Your Excellency the Pope have any last words?”

Calvin’s fading figure curved its lips into a smile, but his gaze turned to Salas. “Having lost the Legacy Fragment, I will never be able to enter the Magic Net space again. Salas… this may be the last time we see each other in this life.”

Seeing that Salas’s expression remained cold and hard, he sighed and continued, “After trying every means possible, I still couldn’t escape the fate of a mortal. Perhaps this is just how the world’s rules operate. I hope you won’t repeat my mistakes.”

“Teacher… where will you be?” Salas finally managed to ask, though he didn’t respond to Calvin’s advice.

The dissipating Calvin paused for a moment, then chuckled lightly. “There’s no need to look for me again. Just do your best to help His Majesty Harvey fight against fate… the difficult fate of humanity, which has struggled to survive and procreate for so long, seeking to transcend the mortal world and pursue the truth.”

Chapter 619: A Flurry of Dissent

Harvey and Salas left the Plane of the Magic Net and returned to the real world. Dawson, who had been notified in advance, had already gathered all the kingdom’s high-ranking officials at the Royal Palace. An emergency meeting began immediately.

Although Dawson had already revealed a few details, when Harvey and Salas finally arrived and explained the specific course of events, the expressions of most of the kingdom’s leaders changed drastically. The high-ranking generals from the military in attendance even shot to their feet, kicking over the stools beneath them.

Clem, the Minister of Population Management, who had just completed a new round of recruitment in the kingdom’s southwest with the Ministry of Defense, fumbled and knocked over the tea served by an attendant. His helpless gaze shot toward General Pierce, who sat in the seat of honor. He saw that while the General’s face was somewhat grim, he hadn’t lost his composure. This allowed Clem to tentatively put his worried heart at ease.

As the ruler of the kingdom, Harvey did not hide the crucial truth that fusing the Legacy Fragments had triggered the non-human invasion. In fact, if he had not personally led the plan to explore the Magic Core, the United Kingdom itself would not have achieved its leap in magical technology. It would have been impossible for them to gain a firm foothold in the south, where they had made numerous enemies. The incessant harassment and suppression from the Church and its allied vassal kingdoms alone would likely have thrown them into disarray and made them difficult to handle, let alone achieve the prosperity they enjoyed today.

The kingdom’s leaders present were all fellow travelers, firmly bound to Harvey’s great ship. They were the ones who had gradually gained real power and carved out a generous slice of the pie as the kingdom grew and strengthened. Naturally, they couldn’t place all the blame on the Emperor’s shoulders. So, although the truth was truly astonishing, they subconsciously began to consider their next steps and how to continue expanding the kingdom’s interests.

There was no need to ask what Rainer, Astaren, and Pierce were thinking. The reactions of the others were also largely within Harvey’s expectations.

Harvey’s original vision for a united front against the non-human races was to unite the secular powers of the south, the old Federation, and the seven wizard kingdoms to the greatest extent possible. At the same time, he planned to ease the tense relationship with the Church, and by extension, bring the Dwarves, Elves, and even the Sea-folk onto the same side, forging them into a single, unified force.

If possible, he had even considered trying to win over the Demons, who were currently locked in a fierce battle with the Demonic Lizardmen, and have them pin the enemy down north of Vile Moon Mountain in the Western Realm. This would resolve the awkward situation of the humans of the south facing enemies on two fronts.

However, once Salas explained in detail the historical origins of the Magic Core—that is, the Legacy Fragments—and the Church’s plan to willingly hand over their fragment in exchange for reinforcements at the Holy City of Goris, the attitude of most of the kingdom’s leaders immediately shifted from their initial shock and uncertainty to one of naked opposition.

Rainer, who always followed Harvey’s will closely, was the first to state that the Department of State had just completed its development plan for the new year. From the second phase of development at the Eastern Expansion base to the impending large-scale mechanized farming in the south, funds needed to be allocated to support industry, education, and scientific research. On the military front, they had just approved an astronomical annual military budget. The treasury was currently stretched thin. In short, there was no money available for now.

Seeing the Kingdom’s Steward take the lead in resisting, the Ministry of Defense immediately seized the opportunity to follow suit. They stated that the Ice Sea Base was currently under frequent attack by the Demonic Lizardmen, requiring constant troop rotations and the allocation of war materials. The defensive line along the border with Isengard also needed to be continuously built up and fortified to ensure it was completely foolproof. A recent round of military expansion had just concluded in the south, and the newly enlisted soldiers were currently gathered for training in Wangshan Prefecture on the border of the Alyrid Duchy. They were not yet ready to be sent into battle.

If they were to rashly divide their forces and enter The Papal State of Goris to fight the numerous Demonic Lizardmen directly, it could lead to insufficient troop reserves on other defensive fronts, and all their prior strategic plans would likely be thrown into complete disarray.

Compared to the sharp attitudes of the two most powerful departments in the kingdom, the statements from the other department heads were much gentler. Haru, the Director of the Construction Department, mentioned that the south was currently focused on building a long railway line that would traverse the kingdom and directly connect to the capital in the Northern Realm. It would start from Starfire City in the north, pass through Grizzly Keep, Three-Forks Town, Fengyuan City, and Goldshine City, finally reaching Silverpine City on the Barkley border in the west, and extending south to Black Mountain Port, which bordered the Duchy of Faros.

The project had just broken ground in the spring. If they could wait for the year-and-a-half construction period to end, it might save considerable transport capacity for troops and supplies, achieving twice the result with half the effort.

The newly appointed Minister of Agriculture, Anbiki Kenny, cautiously proposed that with the recent decrees on food price caps and a ban on grain sales, and with no current plans to import large quantities of grain, food stocks could become tight due to a sudden military operation. If news of this spread, the people in the southern cities, already far from the kingdom’s center of power, would likely erupt in an uncontrollable panic over food shortages.

Chris, who was also the Minister of Industry, didn’t say it outright, but the factories in the capital’s Industrial Park, running twenty-four hours a day without pause, made it clear that current military manufacturing and logistical production had already reached their limits.

In short, every department head expressed their respective attitudes and suggestions, bringing up all sorts of unbelievable and far-fetched reasons. The message they wished to tactfully convey to the Emperor, however, was remarkably consistent: Please, Your Majesty, you must consider this carefully. We cannot use our own assets to toil for the benefit of the Church, our kingdom’s age-old nemesis!

The other Spellcasters present, including the two Legendary Chiefs, were officially independent advisors who did not interfere in the kingdom’s politics. Seeing that their leading chief advisors, Astaren and Duncan, remained silent, they too could only maintain a polite silence.

The emergency meeting instantly fell into a stalemate.

Harvey sat on the throne at the top of the dais, looking speechlessly at the bickering officials below. Suddenly, his eyes met those of Ashe, the Minister of Propaganda, who was tucked away in a corner at the very back.

After a brief, silent exchange, Ashe immediately understood. He shot to his feet and asked the group of military officials led by Pierce with a grin, “Wasn’t the plan to reinforce the kingdom’s western front, occupy the mountain kingdom of Arid, and eventually deploy troops to besiege the Holy City of Goris a key strategic deployment strongly pushed by the Ministry of Defense? So why is sending rescue troops out of the question now?”

Pierce’s face darkened. He turned his head away and didn’t answer.

But Dav, sitting behind him, ignored Vaughn’s attempts to hold him back and leaped to his feet, roaring, “Is fighting the Church and fighting the Demonic Lizardmen the same thing? Why should we send our troops to rescue those holy rollers who’ve done nothing but oppose us in the past?”

He stood on his tiptoes, and only with great effort did he see the arrogant fool who dared to mock them. To his shock, he realized it was Ashe, His Majesty’s close friend from his youth. The second half of his retort immediately got stuck in his throat, and his tone shifted seamlessly from furious to mild.

“You, the Minister of Propaganda, telling us… oh, no! Mr. Ashe’s suggestion might be worth discussing…”

Chapter 620: The Final Word

“Alright, that’s enough arguing.”

Harvey rapped his knuckles on the armrest of the throne, and the great conference hall instantly fell silent.

He rose from his throne and descended the steps one by one. “I know many of you are unwilling for the kingdom to send troops to rescue the Church, feeling that we’re being used as pawns.”

The high-ranking officials from the Ministry of Defense all lowered their heads and said nothing, his words having clearly hit home.

“But we were already planning to dispatch troops to the Holy City. What difference does it make if the enemy we face is the Church… or the Demonic Lizardmen?”

Harvey turned his gaze to Pierce and the others, who were sitting stiffly, and sneered, “Or are you saying… that compared to the Church, which has been defeated by us several times, you’re obviously more afraid of the powerful and unpredictable non-human races?”

Pierce immediately shot to his feet, placing a hand over his chest and bowing his head. “Your Majesty, the Military Command has no such intention! Be it the Church, the nobles of the south, or the Demonic Lizardmen, wherever your blade points, we will never fear to face any enemy!”

Behind him, Vaughn and the other officers also stood, beat their chests with their fists, and declared in unison, “The Northern Army fears no enemy! At Your Majesty’s command, any obstacle that stands in our way will be swept aside!”

Harvey nodded and gestured for the provoked men to sit down again. He said slowly, “In the past, you managed an isolated pioneer territory in the Northern Realm for me, and you all did an excellent job… Later, we built a brand-new city, and everyone from City Hall to the Military Command forged ahead with determination. And now… the United Kingdom is formally established. We face a powerful non-human race from the north, and tensions are simmering beneath the surface in the south. Why has everyone suddenly become so hesitant, so stagnant?”

He glanced around at the heads of the various departments seated at the head of the long table, without criticizing anyone by name. “Whether it’s the Evil Moon Mountain Range thousands of kilometers away, Isengard in the east, or even the barren lands of the ice sea we must face ourselves, all three of these defense lines… were planned and proposed by us. And you, the people present, are the ones responsible for their implementation.”

“Since you chose to assist me in governing this country, since you chose to bear the heavy responsibility for the survival of the Humans of the south, surely you understand that with great power comes great responsibility?”

“Is this act of shrinking back and refusal today a sign to me… that some among you are not competent enough for your positions at the core of the kingdom’s power, that you are not worthy of the burden I have placed in your hands?”

As soon as these words were spoken, no one present could remain seated.

Rainer and Astaren immediately stood up, placing their hands over their chests to apologize. “Your Majesty, please forgive our cowardly hesitation. The Department of State will act according to your will in all matters!”

The others followed suit, rising to apologize and bowing their heads in tribute. “Your Majesty, please forgive us for overstepping our authority just now!”

The longer they followed Harvey, and the more the United Kingdom’s power swelled and grew, the more this group of officials at the pinnacle of power understood just how terrifying the strength they wielded truly was.

It was inevitable that the kingdom’s rapid growth would also cause the desire for power in the hearts of these high-ranking leaders to expand infinitely… Having reached the very top of worldly authority, no one would willingly choose to step back and yield their position, or be demoted for incompetence.

Without a doubt… they all knew very well that only by consistently obeying His Majesty the Emperor and acting according to his will could they hold on to everything they currently possessed. Otherwise, the tightly-knit political body gathered in this hall would immediately and ruthlessly expel them from the kingdom’s core.

Seeing that everyone had calmed down, Harvey gestured for them to sit. “I didn’t come here just to hear you pledge fealty to me over and over. The problems and difficulties you’ve raised are not unfounded, but they are not a reason to obstruct my plans…”

With that, he returned to the throne on the dais, steering the meeting back on track—

“Sending troops to rescue Goris is imperative!”

“Every one of you should understand that in today’s meeting, what I want from each of you are practical, feasible solutions to the obstacles hindering this plan. If you can’t provide them… then ask yourself if you are still qualified to sit here and speak with me!”

The two columns of personal guards flanking the Emperor immediately raised their heavy ceremonial staves and struck them hard against the ground.

A great boom like the ringing of a bell echoed through the hall, making the hearts of the officials below shudder.

“Pierce Astaren! I want a combat force of five thousand men, a mixed formation of the Army Regiment, the Independent Artillery Regiment, and the Independent Airship Regiment. They are to assemble within three days and be ready for deployment in Wangshan Prefecture on the kingdom’s western border. Is that a problem?”

Pierce snapped to his senses and quickly stood up to salute. “No problem, Your Majesty!”

“Rainer Floyd! When can the Department of State’s military funds and supplies be in place? Can the logistical support arrive at the same time?”

Rainer rose without hesitation. “Under an emergency mobilization, the logistics will be in place the moment the army mobilizes!”

Harvey nodded. He knew it was normal for supplies to arrive slightly later than the troops. He softened his tone and added, “Good. I can give you an extra half-day of leeway.”

Then he turned his gaze to the heads of the Agriculture and Construction Departments. “If the food reserves in the kingdom’s southwest are insufficient, immediately request a transfer from the south’s main warehouse in Fengyuan City. Slow down the railway construction for now, and have the workers mobilize to assist with waterway transport to supply the border!”

Kenny and Haru answered in unison, “As you command, Your Majesty!”

“Chris, the Industrial Department is to immediately suspend fifty percent of its production plans for civilian and export goods. Gather all the skilled workers to focus on completing weapon and ammunition production quotas. During this special period, you are authorized to allocate extra salary to the workers on the three-shift system to encourage them to speed up their progress!”

“Very good,” Harvey said with a faint smile, turning to look at Ashe, who was trying to shrink back amongst the other officials.

“Your Majesty need not worry about the publicity. After the meeting, I will immediately have our writers rush their drafts. A special edition will be issued throughout the kingdom tomorrow morning, telling the people the glorious tale of us sending troops to the Holy City, proactively rescuing the believers, and resisting the non-human invasion!”

Before Harvey could even nod, the Son of Flame, who had been sitting behind the two Legendary Chiefs and had been eager to speak several times, finally couldn’t resist seizing the opportunity. He stood up and gave Harvey a somewhat comical, non-standard military salute.

“Um… Your Majesty, in this rescue mission to the Holy City, will the Aerial Combat Mage Independent Regiment be deployed as the main combat force? Our… our high-speed airships and bomber airships… can we finally show what we can do?”

Harvey narrowed his eyes and nodded in response. “Correct. I don’t intend to commit too many ground troops to this operation. On the one hand, time is of the essence, and we can’t afford a slow advance. On the other hand, long-range covering fire from the magical energy cannons, combined with aerial support from the bomber airships, will be more effective at crippling the enemy’s effective strength.”

He paused, his voice turning grave. “Our ultimate goal is not to retake control of the Holy City for the Church… but to use the new high-yield magical energy aerial bombs developed by our munitions factories to completely destroy the underground passage the Demonic Lizardmen used to invade the south, sealing this gap that exists outside our three defense lines!”

Chapter 621: The Giant Cannon

The United Kingdom of the Northern Realm and St. Valen, Wangshan Prefecture on the western border.

Bale, Sai Ke, and the others from the Borderland Tribes had been undergoing new recruit training for nearly a month since answering the military summons and arriving here from Fengyuan City.

This period was more unforgettable than the twenty-odd years they had spent living on the grasslands.

They had heard that Wangshan Prefecture was originally just an impoverished noble fiefdom on the kingdom’s border, under the rule of the Earl of Westwind, Leon Waters. Due to its sparse population and poor tax revenue, even tax collectors couldn’t be bothered to stay long, let alone have dedicated vassal knights stationed there.

This led to Wangshan Prefecture suffering from the constant ravages of surrounding mountain bandits. After every autumn harvest, bandits would appear throughout the prefecture, plundering villages and towns like a plague of locusts. By the time the lord received the news and sluggishly sent troops to suppress them, the bandits would have long since retreated back into the mountain forests.

This continued until His Majesty the Emperor officially ascended the throne. After dispatching the Northern Army to reclaim and liberate the entire kingdom, all the local residents were relocated to the more secure Silverpine City. Wangshan Prefecture became a completely deserted and desolate place, eventually being planned and developed into a large military-agricultural zone in the kingdom’s Western Realm. The prefectural city naturally became the core military fortress.

Every so often, new recruits drafted from all over the country would arrive. Besides these raw recruits with looks of confusion and wonder, there was also a constant stream of various weapons and equipment, along with massive military supplies transported by alchemical vehicles.

Bale, Sai Ke, and their group would always see some incredible things among them—new types of weapons they had never seen even in Fengyuan City, weapons that even the veteran in charge of their training couldn’t explain.

Of course, what impressed them the most… besides the terrifying officers who occasionally appeared in the new recruit barracks, a perfect fusion of flesh and machine, were the legendary Bloodline Warriors, transformed in a ritual personally presided over by His Majesty the Emperor.

Back in their hometown in the Northern Desert of Isengard, they had personally witnessed the prowess of these “God-chosen warriors.” That high-ranking officer named Wayne could single-handedly flip over several sturdy new recruits who rushed him at once. The power in his every move was comparable to the strongest hyenas and wild bulls of the desert. Even more frightening was his ability to casually coat his scimitar in scorching flames, cutting down enemies as effortlessly as a hot knife through butter.

The rumors about the God-chosen warriors were not baseless. Bale and the others had just never imagined there would be so many of them—in the fortress of Wangshan Prefecture, at least five hundred of these terrifying, extraordinary warriors were gathered.

“Bale! Sai Ke! What are you still spacing out for? Let’s go to the logistics barracks… I heard new weapons have arrived. Come watch the excitement with us!”

Their fellow new recruits didn’t ostracize their group of foreign “barbarians” who had migrated from afar. On the contrary, they often pulled them aside to ask all sorts of questions, inquiring about their deeds in Isengard when they assisted the Expeditionary Force against the Demonic Lizardmen. They would always gather to discuss matters, and there were even subtle signs that Bale and Sai Ke were being pushed to become the leaders of their small group.

“It’s probably just more assembly parts for the Airships… Didn’t we just go see them a few days ago?” Sai Ke closed the literacy manual in his hands and pursed his lips in resignation. “Stop dreaming about flying in the sky all day. That’s the aerial combat corps, which only Spellcasters are qualified to join. With that spare time, you’d be better off practicing your writing and carefully maintaining your new rifle.”

Bale pulled him up from his bunk, persuading him with a smile, “We new recruits only get two hundred training rounds a week. Even if you polish the barrel until it sparks, you can’t improve your marksmanship in a short time… Let’s go check it out with them. Anyway, there’s still over an hour until the afternoon training session.”

The group jostled and chattered their way to the logistics unloading area, only to find that many soldiers had already gathered… The unloading area didn’t prohibit soldiers from watching. Whenever weapons and supplies arrived, both construction workers and new recruits would line the way to welcome them, even lending a hand with the unloading, as if everyone had boundless energy.

Arriving at the unloading area this time were dozens of square-headed alchemical camel-beasts. Each vehicle was hauling a massive flatbed trailer, its four sets of wheels plowing two deep furrows into the flat, gravel ground, indicating an exceptionally heavy cargo.

The flatbeds were covered with canvas, making it impossible to see what was underneath… But rumor had it that the cargo had been transported from Goldshine City all the way up the Ralph River by ironclad warships, then offloaded at a transfer dock dozens of kilometers away to be moved overland. It had certainly taken a great deal of effort.

When the logistics officer in charge of registering the cargo directed a few soldiers to pull back the tarpaulins, the onlookers were stunned—the object underneath looked truly bizarre.

The first thing to be offloaded by the alchemical beasts’ cranes was a strangely shaped steel carriage, roughly a symmetrical, triangular diamond shape. Attached to its rear was a detachable, spade-like trail spade, apparently meant to be dug into the ground to increase the carriage’s stability.

Just watching the steel cables of the crane groan and creak under the strain was enough to tell that this thing was definitely not a component for an Airship… It was too heavy; it was probably cast entirely from pure steel.

Although its specific purpose was unclear, apart from being exceptionally cumbersome, there was nothing particularly strange about it.

But as the tarpaulins on the dozens of subsequent vehicles were removed, the surrounding soldiers began to feel that something was amiss—securely fastened to the flatbeds with steel cables were metal barrels, each four to five meters long!

They all looked nearly identical. Not only was the caliber large enough to fit a person’s head inside, but the barrels’ curves were so smooth they seemed to be a single, seamless piece, without a single trace of welding.

Bale, Sai Ke, and the others knew that the kingdom’s steel-casting craftsmanship was unparalleled. Even Isengard, famous throughout the south for its gold smelting and iron forging, couldn’t hold a candle to it… But the lustrous texture of these cannon barrels clearly indicated that they were cast from refined steel in a single piece. One could only imagine how many cycles of repeated smelting and firing, how much cast iron and manpower, had been spent to forge them, not to mention creating the hollow, tubular shape… What astonishingly advanced technology!

In comparison, the standard-issue Magical Energy Guns that the new recruits treasured—the rumored new Model Two from the Goldshine City munitions factory—suddenly seemed rather unimpressive…

A few new recruits from Grizzly Keep, who were clearly more worldly, immediately cried out in alarm, “This is definitely high-end equipment from the capital’s munitions factories! Only His Majesty’s royal munitions factories could produce such terrifying giant cannons!”

Bale and Sai Ke exchanged a look, and both couldn’t help but wipe the cold sweat that had suddenly broken out on their foreheads.

This thing was definitely not a weapon to be mounted on an Airship!

Chapter 622: Massing of Troops

In the command post of the garrison fortress in Wangshan Prefecture, all the high-ranking officers who had urgently gathered were in the midst of a discussion about the upcoming battle.

“The ground fire only needs to cover the predetermined bombardment locations north of Goris. As for the enemies who have already breached the city and are entangled with the Church’s Judgment Army, you can leave them entirely to us,” the Son of Flame emphasized to Pierce, repeatedly slapping the table. “You can rest assured, the Aerial Combat Mages of the Independent Airship Regiment will absolutely not fail… As long as we cause the entrance to the underground river deep within the Chasm of Saints to collapse, the remaining Demonic Lizardmen will be nothing but sitting ducks exposed before our eyes.”

Pierce’s expression was hesitant. After careful consideration, he said slowly, “It’s not that I don’t trust the abilities of the Aerial Combat Mages, but according to the intelligence reports coming in from all sides, there are at least thirty thousand Demonic Lizardmen currently besieging Goris, along with several thousand Winged ones. If we don’t first lay down heavy suppressive fire, I’m worried the bombing operation will be hindered.”

With that, he raised his hand and summoned Vaughn, activating a Recording Stone sent back from a front-line reconnaissance airship to show everyone. “Look. This is the Demonic Lizardmen’s newest creature, the Conch Beast. It’s as large as a three-story building, and a group of three to five can smash down a tall section of the city wall. They also have anti-air black water vents on their backs. How can you guarantee you won’t be pinned down by the Winged ones and exposed to their targeted fire?”

The newly developed high-speed airships could indeed perfectly evade the Winged ones, who relied solely on their bodies for flight, thanks to their cruising altitude and speed. But their safety wasn’t completely foolproof. Once they needed to descend for a bombing run, they would still face swarms of flying enemies. The moment they needed to hover and return fire… they would immediately enter the anti-air range of ground enemies. With only two mages per airship, it would be nearly impossible to survive.

Although this didn’t affect the mission of dropping the bombs during combat, such a one-for-one trade was absolutely not permitted by Harvey and the kingdom’s high command. Neither the battle mages nor the experienced veterans could be sent to the front lines as expendable cannon fodder in this engagement.

To completely shut down the talkative Son of Flame, Pierce pulled a military order stamped with Harvey’s sigil from his coat and reminded him in a stiff tone, “Mr. Hoden, although you are currently one of the strategic advisors for the army’s Mage Corps and concurrently serve as the commander of the Independent Airship Regiment, I must remind you… His Majesty’s orders have granted me the authority of Commander-in-Chief of this battlefield. This means everyone must execute my commands unconditionally. There are absolutely no exceptions.”

The Son of Flame shrugged and immediately conceded, “Of course I will obey the Commander’s orders. But have you considered… within the great Holy City, there are still at least ten thousand members of the Church’s Judgment Army and pious believers stationed there, stubbornly resisting the enemy from behind various defensive fortifications.”

If the artillery and airship bombing were to indiscriminately cover the entire city, he couldn’t care less about the life or death of the Army of Judgment… but the equally numerous mortal civilians would be unable to escape the tragic fate of perishing along with the Demonic Lizardmen.

Back when he was stationed in Blackstone City, the Son of Flame had been on missions to rescue surrounding towns and protect evacuating civilians. Most of the time, Spellcasters still held to their principles, striving to prevent heavy casualties among the innocent.

But Pierce chuckled softly and muttered, “Didn’t you used to despise those Church holy rollers the most? Why are you suddenly sympathizing with their believers at a time like this… His Majesty has issued specific instructions. Our primary mission is to destroy the exit of the underground river and, in the process, buy time for the main Church forces that have already evacuated the Holy City. Everything else is to be ignored… We are only to inflict maximum casualties on the enemy!”

The Son of Flame nodded in understanding and pressed on, “After the bombing mission is complete, if the enemy scatters and flees, are we to pursue them?”

“Flee?” Pierce sneered. “Without a Floating Island fortress and no subsequent supplies, where could they possibly run? The special forces units lying in ambush around the Holy City will gradually mop them up, ensuring not a single one gets away.”

Once their black water was depleted, the enemy was nothing but a tough, naturally magic-resistant husk. In the eyes of Bloodline Warriors, each equipped with explosive bolt guns and standard-issue weapons, they were nothing more than panicked prey fleeing through the forest.

The two casually discussed a few more specific details of tactical execution until Wayne hurried in from outside the command post.

“Commander, we’ve received a communication from the front line. The three mixed artillery battalions have now reached their designated operational areas. The operation can commence as early as tomorrow evening!”

The Son of Flame asked in confusion, “Our ground troops passed straight through the territory of the Alid Kingdom? They didn’t encounter any resistance along the way? That damn Earl of Westwind, didn’t he solemnly declare he was going to raise an army and counter-attack St. Valen?”

Wayne scoffed and said lightly, “It was just one of the Church’s Army of Judgment knight orders that gave him the courage for his delusional counter-attack. After the Holy City was attacked, that knight order left the Alid capital, Rielke City, long ago. The Earl of Westwind was so frightened that he quickly gathered all his forces, planning to turtle up in his capital and defend it to the last.”

The mountain kingdom has a small territory to begin with—the whole country isn’t even as large as Grizzly Bear Territory. After the Earl of Westwind returned and ascended the throne, he kept a firm grip on the Right of enfeoffment, so there were few vassal nobles assigned around the capital, let alone powerful lords with private armies garrisoning various regions.

A Northern Army combined-arms force of nearly five thousand men entered their country directly without any warning. Taking advantage of the swift off-road capabilities of their alchemical vehicles, they quickly crossed the mountain ranges to reach the vicinity of Goris. They avoided populated mountain villages and towns along the way and encountered almost no resistance. It was essentially a smooth steamroll, and they reached the designated operational area in just two days.

From the moment Harvey officially gave the order, it took the Northern Army only three days to assemble two Regiments, totaling nearly six thousand troops. Combat units from the Goldshine City and Silverpine City areas arrived swiftly aboard ironclad ships. A large number of airships transferred from Fengyuan City to Wangshan Prefecture were fully assembled overnight, needing only their gasbags inflated to be ready for takeoff at a moment’s notice.

An emergency mobilization of this scale was enough to make everyone realize the terrifying power of the United Kingdom’s war machine operating at full throttle.

“I understand. Since the ground forces are in position, I’ll go make preparations. The Independent Airship Regiment will also be able to set out on schedule tomorrow afternoon!” The Son of Flame nodded, gave Pierce a slight bow, and departed without hesitation.

Pierce suddenly called out to him, reminding him with a smile, “Mr. Hoden, don’t forget… the codename for this operation is ‘Skyfire’.”

Chapter 623: The Art of Aerial Combat

The next morning, the Independent Airship Regiment, composed of Aerial Combat Mages, finally received the order to set off.

Following the tradition from their days on Blackstone City’s battlefield, the Son of Flame gathered all the assembled battle mages to reiterate the primary objectives of the mission.

“Each bomber airship is equipped with only three high-explosive aerial bombs. You must not pull the lever to drop them until you have reached the designated bombing location…”

The mages had already committed to memory the map of the Holy City obtained from the Church. Deep within the Chasm of Saints, located under the Cathedral of Divine Grace, was the subterranean passage from which the Demonic Lizardmen continuously poured out. According to the plan… they only needed to completely collapse Goris’s magnificent main cathedral. The ensuing chain reaction would be enough to destroy the entire structure beneath it.

A large amount of rubble and debris would also completely seal the entrance to the dark passage.

“Sir Hoden, all personnel are in position. The final pre-flight checks are complete… We can depart!” said Michel, the former Necromancer who was now the Son of Flame’s deputy. The high-speed airship they piloted was also responsible for escorting the bomber groups during this operation.

The three hundred Aerial Combat Mages of the Independent Airship Regiment were divided into fifty independent groups. Each group consisted of one bomber airship escorted by two high-speed airships as wingmen. Over a dozen high-level casters were embedded among them, responsible for rescuing any downed comrades who were forced to land. Although the new airships’ standard load had been limited to two people to increase their cruising altitude and speed, they could still carry at least three people for a high-speed return trip after dropping their bomb load.

By the temporary airship landing field built behind the fortress command post, several thousand new recruits and engineering personnel had gathered to watch. Though many knew they were spellcasters, they still boldly took off their soft caps and waved enthusiastically.

This was a strange scene the Son of Flame had never encountered in his more than ten years of combat experience—mortals, possessing no extraordinary powers whatsoever, were not only fighting alongside them but also regarded them as comrades-in-arms… hoping they would complete their mission and return safely, offering them their wholehearted blessings and encouragement.

The battle mages present were also infected by the fervent atmosphere, and they awkwardly returned the salutes to the crowd. Some waved, some performed the ancient wizard’s salute, and a few even responded with clumsy military salutes.

“Ground forces are on standby to open fire. We’re moving out immediately!”

Michel scrambled into the airship’s cabin and took the pilot’s seat, his hands gripping the control crank before him… The magical-powered core, already warmed up and activated, immediately spun up to full speed. Its low hum grew more intense, causing the entire cabin to vibrate slightly.

A moment later, this high-speed airship, armed only with a beam-based anti-air weapon, was the first to ascend into the sky before the watchful eyes of the crowd, hovering in the dazzling glare of the spring sun.

The alchemical communicator crackled to life—“Airspace ahead is clear. Please take off immediately!”

One hundred fifty floating airships rose swiftly into the air. They quickly formed up as planned, briefly checked their coordinates, then adjusted their angle and sped towards the Holy City of Goris.

…

Cruising at high speed, the airship battle group flew in a straight line across the small mountain kingdom of Arid. The journey was unexpectedly smooth… In less than three hours, they had crossed the border of the Papal State and could see the distant silhouette of the Holy City of Goris.

Without needing a spyglass, the battle mages high in the sky could easily lock onto the primary target of their mission. The City of Grace now looked as if it had been cleaved in two by an invisible giant axe. The northern part was filled with the smoke of battle and rolling black fog, a clear sign that the Demonic Lizardmen who had breached the city were rampantly spraying black water to burn buildings. The southern part was slightly calmer… Only a few iconic Church buildings were emitting smoke, indicating they were under a concentrated enemy assault.

The mass of Demonic Lizardmen gathered around the city walls was simply uncountable. The giant Conch Beasts mixed in among them were conspicuous even when viewed from high above. From a distance, the army of tens of thousands looked like a writhing black tide, swarming through a huge, inexplicably-formed gap in the Holy City’s northern wall.

The Son of Flame had always loathed the Church’s ways. In the past, he would have attacked them without hesitation if he happened to run into them, mercilessly slaughtering them without revealing his identity… Seeing their current predicament filled him with great satisfaction; he felt this outcome was simply retribution for their past evil deeds.

Yet he was also well aware that this city of faith held not only the detestable holy rollers but also many ordinary, innocent people—poor laborers conscripted from various regions for hard labor, orphans secretly abducted by nobles and offered as tribute, and spellcasters and “traitors” who had long been imprisoned in the tribunal.

When the Church’s high-ranking members fled the Holy City in droves, these people would have surely not been taken along. They would have been considered worthless and ruthlessly abandoned in the city on the brink of destruction.

The communicator crackled with a request for action from the ground forces behind them…

The Son of Flame took a deep breath and patted the shoulder of his deputy, Michel, who was focused on piloting the airship. Michel understood immediately… He yanked the control crank back to its limit. The front of the airship tipped down slightly, and it began to dive, using its own weight to plunge forward!

The bomber airships following close behind were like a shadow. The entire aerial force, a dark mass like a flock of birds, received the command and began to imitate the charge of their leading “flagship.”

The rapid descent brought a distinct feeling of weightlessness that was hard for the mid-rank mages, who had never flown with their own bodies, to bear. Michel pulled one hand away to snap the wind-proof goggles hanging around his neck onto his face, a strange sense of exhilaration rising in his heart.

Even though he wasn’t yet high-rank… he could now enjoy the thrilling sensation of flying at lightning speed!

The flight formation drew closer and closer to the Holy City, and the buildings on the ground became clearer in the mages’ vision… A few Winged ones flying at low altitudes were the first to notice the “flock of birds” descending from above. They beat their fleshy wings and turned to look, forming black water javelins and red light in their hands, preparing to counter-attack.

The Son of Flame unhesitatingly pulled the weapon crank beside him. The beam weapon mounted on the front of the airship immediately activated and fired. A dense barrage of beams erupted in mid-air and spread out, slamming into the enemy like a fine net of light.

Several of the closest enemies had no room to evade and were immediately enveloped by the net of light. Their bodies were instantly sliced into several pieces, falling to the ground in a shower of blood and gore.

The high-speed airships at the front of the charging formation then pulled up sharply, their angle instantly changing from a dive to a climb… Less than three hundred meters from the ground, they executed a silky-smooth arc back up towards the clouds.

The bomber groups, which had been hiding behind their wingmen the entire time, now finally revealed their invisible fangs.

Bombs away!

Chapter 624: Indiscriminate Bombing

The high-explosive aerial bombs were externally mounted beneath the airship’s gondola. With a flick of the lever, the clasps instantly released. Freed from their restraints, the bombs traced a brief parabolic arc, carried by the momentum of the dive, before plunging straight down toward the Cathedral of Divine Grace, which already resembled a pile of broken walls and ruins.

Each solid bomb, packed to the brim with compressed liquid magical energy and Dragon’s Flame powder, weighed over one hundred kilograms. As the metal-cast shell plummeted, the intense friction with the air produced a peculiar, shrill whistle, immediately drawing the attention of all the enemies gathered on the ground.

Compared to the shadows cast by the formation of optically camouflaged airships, the round, tumbling bombs were paradoxically less conspicuous. Even the dozens of slow-moving Conch Beasts failed to notice them, their jagged backs and raised black water vents aimed squarely at the airships that had just completed their bombing run and were now desperately trying to regain altitude.

Swoosh swoosh swoosh—

Several streams of thick black water shot skyward, rapidly solidifying in mid-air into massive, sharp black spikes. They narrowly scraped past the underbellies of a few bomber airship gondolas before arcing high and crashing down into the urban districts in the distance, sending up huge plumes of dust and smoke.

And the next moment!

The first few aerial bombs screamed down into the Demonic Lizardmen army swarming around the cathedral.

Within the black tide of the non-human race, several scorching red infernos erupted!

The exact impact points of the bombs were nearly impossible to discern. The rising flames, mixed with the thick fog from the sympathetic detonation of black water, obscured all vision. The clustered enemy ranks were instantly cleared, leaving several enormous, vacuum-like pits. Everything in the vicinity was incinerated. Shockwaves from the explosions radiated outward, tearing apart and flinging away any Demonic Lizardmen caught in their path. Severed limbs and a mixture of black and red bodily fluids splattered everywhere like splashed ink.

The shockwave from a single bomb only covered a radius of about a hundred meters. Enemies further away were lucky enough to survive by taking cover. But the ensuing chain reaction of explosions caused vast swathes of city buildings to collapse. Countless Demonic Lizardmen who couldn’t find shelter in time were buried under fragments of brick and stone pillars, and the already narrow streets were completely blocked off.

The bombing, as dense as a rainstorm, lasted less than two minutes, but the power of the aerial bombs delivered a devastating blow to the ground targets with almost no reservations.

The great chasm that had previously run along the inside and outside of the city walls was buried and filled in by the continuous tremors and collapsing buildings on both sides. The already crumbling Cathedral of Divine Grace collapsed inward, starting from its central nave, and its tall spire toppled, plunging into the deep pit that had opened up below.

Looking down from the sky above the clouds, the designated bombing zone centered on the Church of Divine Grace was almost completely shrouded in smoke and dust that blotted out the sky. One could only faintly see that the central area had sunk by several tens of meters, filling the hollow space below it completely solid.

The airship pilot, Michel, pushed up the goggles on his head and glanced down.

“Mr. Hoden, can the Chasm of Saints really be filled in like this?”

The Son of Flame pursed his lips, a look of satisfaction on his face as he surveyed the results below. “It should be… As His Majesty said, if one run doesn’t seal it, we’ll just do another. It’s only the trouble of flying back to rearm.”

Facts had proven that once their high-speed and bomber airships had increased their speed and cruising altitude, the enemy’s Winged ones couldn’t touch them. The entire bombing mission would proceed with almost no significant hindrance.

Strike in a single blow, then quickly pull away, gain altitude, and resume cruising speed to circle around… They could indeed completely evade enemy pursuit.

This was what His Majesty the Emperor had repeatedly explained to them… the art of aerial combat!

This devastatingly thorough bombardment was indeed a fatal blow to the Demonic Lizardmen.

But it was also… a nightmarish experience for the remnants of the Church, who were currently shrinking their defensive line and consolidating their forces for street-to-street defensive warfare.

These soldiers of the Church’s Judgment Army and devout believers of the Divine Punishment Faction had mostly retreated into the buildings further south, far from the bombing site around the Cathedral of Divine Grace.

But the formation of airships descending from the heavens, and the series of earth-shattering tremors that followed the bombing, caused their already desperate minds to completely shatter.

They didn’t even know if the newcomers were friend or foe. The effect of the bombing was like a divine punishment from the heavens. Looking north toward the city… the cathedral, which they had once regarded as a landmark of their faith, collapsed in an instant. Hellish flames mixed with smoke that billowed into the sky, forcing the already massive number of enemies to swarm south even more frantically.

Splattering black water, gory limbs, the piercing shrieks of the gravely wounded… The continuous collapse of buildings and violent explosions crushed the last vestiges of their will to defend the Holy City to the death.

Praying to the gods was meaningless now…

This exceptionally brutal siege by the non-human race and the sudden bombardment that followed were completely beyond their comprehension and common sense.

Thus, the stubbornly resisting believers and the Army of Judgment began to lose control and flee south. It started with just a few individuals, but as the sentiment of surrender spread through the crowd, the stream of people flocking toward the southern city gate grew larger and larger.

Before these routed soldiers could even reach the edge of the outer city, which represented a chance at survival… the sharp whistle that sounded like the coming of the Grim Reaper echoed from the distant sky once more!

The Northern Army’s ground artillery units, dozens of kilometers away, finally commenced their artillery bombardment!

Shells rained down on the Holy City in an overwhelming barrage. The magnificent city, spanning dozens of kilometers, instantly became a giant target. The indiscriminate bombing scoured every single remaining structure, like a great scythe sweeping clean across the city’s skyline.

The “heaven on earth” of yesterday had now, at this moment… completely transformed into a living hell!

The shelling had already continued for nearly half an hour. Hundreds of heavy Magical Energy Naval Cannons, guided by reconnaissance airships, progressively adjusted their firing angles to carry out a creeping bombardment.

Although the new artillery pieces had already completed dozens of test firings back in the capital, now that they were truly in combat, most of the soldiers found that they had underestimated their terrifying range.

The reconnaissance feedback from the first three ranging salvos was that the impacts were too far… This meant that their concentrated fire at maximum elevation had sailed right over the Holy City and landed in the mountain forests far beyond.

Fortunately, the artillery battery had a complete set of meticulously calculated range tables. Although the bomb impacts were beyond their line of sight, the timely feedback from the reconnaissance airships allowed them to quickly adjust their angles and re-engage the target, even from dozens of kilometers away.

This unprecedented mode of warfare also left the Artillerymen tasked with the mission in a state of bewilderment… Without needing to see the target with their own eyes, or facing the pressure of close-quarters combat, they could, through what could be called tedious, repetitive actions, completely destroy an enemy army tens of thousands strong.

The unusually urgent pre-war assembly… and the farewell letters they had hastily written in case of death, seemed like a joke now, weighing heavily on every soldier’s heart. No one dared to mention them.

Their only companions were the synchronized roar of the cannons that echoed across their position every forty to fifty seconds, and the whistle of shells rapidly flying into the distance.

Chapter 625: “A Mess”

As night fell, Vaughn rushed into the command post, a stack of battle reports in his hand. He saluted Commander Pierce with a clenched fist. “General, these are the reports from the front. A copy has already been sent back to the capital for His Majesty.”

Pierce nodded, taking the documents and flipping through them carefully… The aerial units had started returning to the Wangshan Prefecture base at dusk, and the artillery positions set up over fifteen kilometers from Goris had only just ceased their bombardment.

After six hours of continuous shelling, fifty new-model magical energy cannons had consumed nearly twenty thousand shells that had been transported to the front lines, acting as veritable military budget shredders in this battle. In fact, if not for the fact that sustained fire would cause the barrels to overheat, forcing the artillery positions to adopt an alternating fire pattern, the ammunition consumption would have likely been even higher.

As for casualties, they were completely negligible. It was expected that the ground troops would suffer no losses, and the Aerial Combat Mages on the bombing mission had been exceedingly cautious. Throughout the entire operation, only two high-speed airships, while providing cover for the bombing, failed to ascend in time due to operator error and were intercepted by the Winged ones… Fortunately, the high-level casters in the squad acted swiftly, rescuing the crew before the airships could crash.

“The results are impossible to tally…” Vaughn scratched his head in frustration. “Countless Demonic Lizardmen were blown to bits in the Holy City, and that doesn’t even include the subsequent reinforcements who were buried alive when the Chasm of Saints completely collapsed. Our reconnaissance airships only dared to observe from a distance; they couldn’t get close enough to make an accurate count.”

Moreover, both men were well aware that a large portion of that body count was likely courtesy of the Church. According to intelligence exchanged with the Church, they knew for a fact that at least ten thousand members of the Church’s Judgment Army and ordinary believers were stranded in the city before the bombardment began. Judging from the verbal reports of the returning reconnaissance airships, after the artillery had sealed off their only southern escape route in its indiscriminate shelling, over a thousand people had died just from being trampled in the chaos at the ruins of the city gate.

A great number were also killed by the scattering Demonic Lizardmen. With both sides having their retreat cut off by the Northern Army, the great city of Goris had become a living cage for cornered beasts, a true hell on earth forged in blood and fire…

Many of the Winged ones managed to escape the Holy City, but they soon ran out of black water and red light energy. Unable to resupply at a nearby Floating Island fortress, they were forced to land and hide on the ground… which played right into the hands of the waiting special operations squads. With the combined power of explosive bolt guns and sniper rifles, it was only a matter of time before they were all cleaned up.

“There are also large ground forces of Demonic Lizardmen that didn’t make it into the Holy City. After the city came under continuous bombardment… they chose to turn around and flee north.” Vaughn pointed to the map spread out on the table. “We suspect that the wide river north of the Holy City might be a tributary connected to an underground river system. While it’s not large enough for the enemy’s Floating Islands to pass through, it doesn’t hinder the transport of troops.”

Pierce grunted in acknowledgment and said casually, “Just send some people to blow up the upper reaches of the river and cut it off. Without water, it won’t be so easy for those things to climb up from the Abyss with their bare hands.”

Vaughn nodded in agreement and swiftly turned to make the arrangements.

…

Harvey received the battle report from the front at almost the same time. After a quick scan, he summoned Rainer and Astaren.

“Hiss—Twenty thousand shells! Your Majesty, if I’m not mistaken, that’s nearly the entire artillery stockpile of Silverpine City and Goldshine City combined, plus another ten thousand urgently allocated from the capital… transported by teleportation arrays, airships, and ironclad ships in shifts. This is a bottomless pit for military funds.”

Rainer counted on his fingers, his incessant chatter filled with a sense of deep distress. A long-range fire strike beyond anyone’s imagination, combined with a lightning-fast aerial bombardment… The costs and resources required were equally beyond anyone’s expectations.

Rainer, who managed the kingdom’s “purse” for Harvey, was naturally clear on the accounting. The military operation’s success had indeed plugged this unexpected defensive vulnerability, but it yielded no other benefits.

The Holy City of Goris had now been reduced to a pile of rubble; the entire city had lost all its value. Its tens of thousands of inhabitants, the vast wealth accumulated by the Church, countless rare collections, and magical materials… some had surely been taken by the evacuating Moderate Faction, but the rest were either destroyed in the bombardment and subsequent fires, or buried forever in the collapsed Chasm of Saints, entombed alongside the invading Demonic Lizardmen.

Even Astaren couldn’t help but suggest to Harvey, “I believe that after this operation to rescue the Holy City is over, we should forcefully demand war reparations from the remnants of the Church to fully cover our military losses.”

Harvey shrugged noncommittally. “We can have the intelligence officer responsible for liaising with them maintain contact with the remaining Church leaders. I believe that with no way out… they will choose to cooperate unconditionally.”

“No way out?” Rainer paused for a moment, then it dawned on him. “Your Majesty, are you planning to stop them from retreating south?”

Harvey chuckled softly and explained, “Why would I need to stop them? They already have no way out… Over ten thousand ordinary believers, an Army of Judgment composed of several thousand bloodline knights, and a large number of Church Priests, clerics, and high priests. If they don’t disperse and seek refuge separately, any kingdom in the south will view them as a major threat.”

Oland was already a staunch supporter of the City of Magic, Araye, so they certainly wouldn’t switch sides and accept the exiled Holy See. Isengard, which once had the deepest roots of faith, was now nearly half-occupied and ravaged by non-human races. And the royal family of the Barkley Duchy, formerly the largest parish in the central south, had suddenly shifted its allegiance to St. Valen, no longer viewing the Church as a political ally…

If they tried to go to the more distant Faros or Iruvia, it was likely that less than thirty percent of their followers would manage to stick with the Church until they arrived. The vast majority would desert along the way due to the arduous journey or lack of food and shelter, possibly even forming small, roving bands of marauders to harass the surrounding areas.

It was no exaggeration to say they had no way out.

Astaren seemed to guess Harvey’s thoughts. He pondered for a moment before saying, “Has Your Majesty already thought of a place for them? With all due respect, believers who have been thoroughly brainwashed by the Church are not worth absorbing… they are even more difficult to re-educate than illiterate commoners.”

Harvey raised an eyebrow. “Who said I was going to take them in? My real plan is… to block all their escape routes south, then force them to return to the Holy City of Goris and guard the sealed Chasm of Saints for me. Just in case!”

Harvey had no intention of cleaning up this “total mess” for the Church.

Chapter 626: Hopeless Exile

Gazing at the sprawling temporary camp stretching out below the hillside, Ismael felt his heart fill with a complex mix of emotions.

At the decree of His Holiness the Pope, he and Riviera had led the high-ranking members of the Church’s Moderate Faction, along with over three thousand knights of the Army of Judgment from the Radiant Knight Order, escorting nearly ten thousand citizens of the Holy City out of Goris, which had been ravaged by a non-human invasion.

A migration of this scale could never be smooth or orderly. They had traveled less than twenty-five kilometers when news arrived that the Holy City’s northern wall had been completely breached. The Divine Punishment Faction, which had been sending them constant signals for aid, had suffered heavy casualties and was clearly unable to withstand the enemy’s relentless assault.

Ismael had no intention of turning back to reinforce them. To resist when defeat was certain would only lead to the tragic fate of being buried along with the Holy City. Compared to the solemn duty His Holiness had entrusted to him—preserving the flame of the Church—personal honor, disgrace, and reputation seemed unimportant.

He and Riviera were prepared to bear the sin of abandoning the glory of the gods and forsaking their comrades. That was a burden they would accept.

Bamoa, who sided with the Divine Punishment Faction, had initially insisted on staying behind. But after the Radiant Cathedral completely collapsed amid earth-shattering tremors, he finally realized the situation had deteriorated beyond repair. Leading a small, lightly equipped retinue of bloodline knights, he caught up with the main evacuation party.

However, when it came to their next destination, he had a falling out with Ismael and Riviera, and they parted on bad terms.

Bamoa saw Duke Carlo, the Border Grand Duke of the Barkley Duchy, as the last hope for the exiled Holy See. He intended to persuade them to directly contact this Grand Duke, whose power had been waning since a recent military strike from St. Valen. By leveraging the Duke’s royal bloodline from the Koffman family, Bamoa hoped the Church could put down new roots and establish a new core parish.

Ismael, on the other hand, had a very low opinion of this Border Grand Duke of Barkley. The man couldn’t even defend Bluebramble City, the capital of his own fiefdom. He had been caught off guard and forced to abandon his city by a mere force of nearly a thousand soldiers dispatched by the Mage-Emperor of St. Valen. He only dared to tiptoe back to his capital to clean up the mess after the enemy had their fill of plunder and withdrew.

Such a coward, who flees at the first sign of the enemy without even fighting, could not be relied upon. Besides, the Koffman family had always been fence-sitters, hedging their bets with both the spellcasters and the Church. They even had high-level casters within their family who had joined the High Wizard Council. There was no way they would unilaterally side with the Church.

After some consideration, Riviera chose to side with Ismael. Outnumbered and isolated, Bamoa could only take the few hundred remaining bloodline knights and battle priests of the Divine Punishment Faction and leave the main group under the cover of night, heading straight for the Barkley Duchy.

As his thoughts churned, a Cardinal hurried to his side and said in a low voice, “Your Excellency Ismael, we’ve just received replies to the messages we sent to the independent parishes in Faros and Iruvia…”

He paused, his expression turning grim. “The Archbishops of both parishes have expressed their willingness to accept the exiled believers, but the border lords of both nations are resolute… they will not allow the knights of the Army of Judgment and the battle priests to cross the border freely. Especially… especially Faros. They’ve even notified the local branch of the Federation of Casters and plan to assemble troops to intercept us right at the border.”

Ismael was stunned for a moment, then sighed. “Over three thousand knights of the Army of Judgment… that’s a formidable force, enough to make any secular kingdom fearful and wary. No one would easily let us enter their country. Those border lords wouldn’t dare take on that responsibility. I completely understand.”

This was also why, before His Holiness the Pope disappeared, he had instructed him to split the army and the believers into several groups and have them migrate separately to the parishes and monasteries throughout the nations of the south.

“Indeed, this seems to be the only viable option right now,” Riviera said slowly, her face etched with worry after a long pause. “But the Holy City was attacked suddenly, and our evacuation was an emergency… The people were swept up by the army and fled in a panic, like refugees. Most of them have very little in the way of daily rations, supplies, or valuables. I’m afraid… I’m afraid they won’t last until they reach their destinations.”

Although the City of Grace was nominally known as the Pope’s Country, the territory it actually controlled was only the city of Goris itself, a few surrounding mountainous areas, and several large monasteries that guarded the Holy City. The tens of thousands of believers in the city hardly engaged in farming or animal husbandry. Their daily needs were met entirely by regular offerings from parishes across the south and a ceaseless “import” of food and supplies paid for with the believer’s tax.

In normal times, by clinging to the bountiful Holy See, the frequent distribution of aid and mass ceremonies were enough to fill their stomachs. Most believers lived simple, self-disciplined lives and possessed few personal assets or worldly goods.

As for the personnel of the Holy See and their families, during the evacuation, they were only concerned with carrying gold, silver, books, and documents. They treated the far more crucial food and supplies as worthless. One could hardly say if they were greedy or just short-sighted.

Faced with the sudden disaster of a non-human invasion, even with an armed escort from the Holy See, the food problem had immediately become a pressing issue.

“Have the clerics and priests of the Holy See, as well as the Army of Judgment, share a portion of their rations. Distribute it to the believers first to alleviate the immediate crisis…” Ismael ordered with a frown. “Send a few squads of bloodline knights south to purchase food and medicine from the lords and wealthy households in the towns and villages along the way. Don’t be stingy. If the main refugee group falls into famine and riots break out, it will be difficult to bring the situation back under control.”

The Cardinal nodded with a grave expression and turned to leave.

Riviera hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. “In the past, Bamoa and the bishops of his Divine Punishment Faction handled most of the Church’s secular affairs in the Holy City. Now that this burden has fallen to the two of us, we find it difficult to solve even the most basic problems. I feel utterly ashamed.”

Ismael was a Cardinal who had started as a high priest. He had spent most of his life dealing with sacred texts, scriptures, and ritual ceremonies. Aside from some achievements in the study of divine arts, he had never touched other secular matters.

As for Riviera, who had been the Pope’s Secret Prayer Acolyte, there was even less to say… She was an ascetic believer, spiritually pure, and possessed no supernatural powers whatsoever.

For Pope Thirteenth to have entrusted them with the great responsibility of restoring the Church’s glory was truly a reckless gamble with an uncertain outcome.

“Sometimes I can’t help but wonder,” Ismael mused, “if we hadn’t allowed the Divine Punishment Faction to rise to power, if we had maintained our peaceful and close alliance with the Federation of Casters, would the Holy City have ended up like this when faced with the disaster of a non-human invasion?”

Riviera stood silently behind him and did not choose to reply.

Just then, a bloodline knight galloped up the high slope where the two stood. He dismounted, knelt on one knee, and reported, “St. Valen and the United Kingdom of the Northern Realm have dispatched a party of envoys! They request an audience with Your Excellencies, the two Bishops!”

Chapter 627: Watchdog

When the two envoys, dressed in completely different styles, walked into the camp tent side by side, both Cardinal Ismael and Riviera were stunned.

The origins of the younger man in black were easy to identify… His was the standard uniform of the United Kingdom of St. Valen’s army, the embroidered insignia of a castle and spear on his chest and shoulder exceptionally conspicuous. Anyone familiar with the Northern Army could recognize his identity at a glance.

But the other man, middle-aged with slightly graying hair and wearing a mottled, filthy cleric’s robe… sent a jolt of shock through the two bishops. To think that the Northern Kingdom had long since planted spies among the Church’s lower-ranking clerics.

Or rather, they had no idea just how many low-level clergy had been secretly infiltrated and bought off. That he would reveal himself so openly today was as ironic as a slap to their faces.

“Your Excellencies,” the middle-aged cleric said, gesturing to the man beside him. “This is Captain Farrell, a staff officer from the General Staff of the Western Theater Command of the Northern Realm and the United Kingdom of St. Valen.” He then pointed to himself with an apologetic expression. “As for me… it’s not convenient to disclose my specific duties. You can just call me Beetle.”

Ismael’s expression was grim. He forced a nod and said, “You have come in person. What is the will of the Northern Emperor that you have come to convey?”

“To urge you to halt your retreat to the south,” Farrell said bluntly. He showed no fear of the two high-ranking Holy See officials before him, his attitude contemptuous, as if looking at a defeated enemy.

“If our intelligence is correct, the border lords of Faros, Iruvia, and the Barkley Duchy… have all refused your requests for entry. Some are even planning to assemble troops to seal their borders and block you.”

Riviera was not one for pretense and admitted it frankly. “That’s right. Exiled believers easily become refugees who overrun local villages and towns. What’s more, we have over three thousand knights from the Army of Judgment accompanying us. To those noble lords, it’s a threat no different from an advancing army.”

Ismael quickly added, “Therefore, as per His Holiness the Pope’s instructions, we will divide the exiled populace and the Army of Judgment into dozens of smaller groups and relocate them to various parishes throughout the south, striving to avoid impacting the local noble houses.”

Farrell shrugged and shook his head. “None of those arrangements matter. We came here… under a decree from His Majesty the Emperor, to urge you to halt your retreat to the south.”

With that, he took out a document bearing the kingdom’s official sigil from his coat, stood up, and handed it to the stunned Cardinal.

Ismael quickly broke the seal and read the few lines of text—less than half a page—from beginning to end. He shot to his feet, incredulous. “His Majesty your Emperor… is demanding that we return to the Holy City of Goris?”

The middle-aged man nicknamed Beetle nodded and explained patiently, “According to the agreement reached between His Majesty and the Thirteenth Pope, we have successfully repelled the non-human enemy that invaded the Holy City and completely cut off their reinforcement routes… However, His Majesty has no intention of occupying Goris directly, nor does he plan to station troops there long-term…”

“So you want to force us to return, to clean up the non-human remnants in the Holy City and guard the sealed Chasm of Saints for you?” Riviera immediately understood, his tone hesitant as he asked.

“The Divine Punishment Faction took most of the high-rank battle priests. Ordinary bloodline knights cannot stand against swarms of the Winged ones. Forcing us to return to the Holy City… is nothing more than sending us to our deaths.” Ismael sighed and stared at Captain Farrell. “If I’m not mistaken, even if we split up and force our way south, the border lords of the southern nations will be pressured by you to deploy troops and block us completely, correct?”

Farrell spread his hands. “So I hope you two bishops won’t be so stubborn as to push so many soldiers and civilians into a pit of fire. Besides, returning to the Holy City isn’t a death sentence. The Winged ones have already been mostly cleaned up by our special forces units. The remnants still in the city are mostly ground forces, numbering no more than a thousand. You are more than capable of handling them.”

Riviera pondered for a moment before asking, “But even if we successfully repel the remaining non-human forces in the city, the Holy City has already been completely destroyed by war and subsidence. There are no food reserves, and we lack medicine and essential supplies. How are nearly ten thousand believers and civilians supposed to start a new life in a pile of ruins?”

Farrell seemed to have anticipated this. A corner of his mouth curled up. “No need to worry. As long as the Holy See is willing to sign a ‘Gatekeeper Protocol’ with us, the United Kingdom will provide you with food, medicine, and necessary relief supplies. The Holy City of Goris will also be placed under our military control. If the non-human race should make a comeback… the Western Theater Command on the Alid border will immediately dispatch aerial units to support you.”

Gatekeeper… Protocol?

Ismael and Riviera exchanged a look and said with a bitter smile, “Tying us down in the ruins of the Holy City to guard the collapsed and sealed Chasm of Saints for you, giving us food and supplies as long as we obey… It seems it should be called the ‘Watchdog Protocol.’”

The intelligence officer with the handle ‘Beetle’ let out a soft laugh, his expression mocking. “This is His Majesty’s mercy toward the Moderate Faction. In the past, you did not directly participate in the conspiracy that started the St. Valen civil war, and you can only be considered accomplices by acquiescence in the Divine Punishment Faction’s persecution of Spellcasters… Rather than retreating to the independent parishes in the nations of the south, waiting to be gradually purged by us, it’s better to return to the Holy City and hold your ground. At least you can preserve the last flame of faith for the Church.”

Ismael clenched his fists and spoke with difficulty, “You… you intend to purge all the Church’s forces in the nations of the south?”

“According to the agreement between His Majesty and the Thirteenth Pope, the Divine Punishment Faction must be completely purged, while the Moderate Faction will be rounded up and sent back to the Holy City to join you who remained.” Farrell and Beetle stood up, bowed, and took their leave. “The detailed contents of the protocol will be delivered along with the relief supplies before you set off for Goris. We will meet with Your Excellencies again at that time.”

Before lifting the tent flap to leave, the intelligence officer ‘Beetle’ seemed to remember something. He turned and smiled at Ismael. “I forgot to remind you, Your Excellency. There’s no need to send your knights to nearby towns to purchase grain anymore. All of Alid is now under our military control. The entire populace has already been relocated to St. Valen. You won’t be able to buy a single grain of food.”

…

Watching their hastily departing figures, Ismael felt that all the humiliation and contempt he had ever suffered in his life could not compare to the unbearable scene today. The Northern Emperor had merely dispatched two unknown officers to dictate the future of the Church’s survivors, leaving them with no room to refuse.

“The Gatekeeper Protocol… so it’s just meant to turn Goris into a cage to imprison and confine us…”

Chapter 628: Main Battle Armor

Northern Barren Lands, River Valley Outpost.

The train tracks starting from Starfire City had been laid all the way here, with future plans to extend them directly through the center of the barren lands, eventually reaching the newly constructed Great Bear Lake Base.

Compared to the exceptionally busy North-South line and the Eastern Expansion base line that transported massive amounts of supplies day and night, this short northern railway line seemed somewhat deserted. Not only was there just one Magical-Powered Train making the round trip, but it was also primarily used for troop rotation.

Even in the eyes of most citizens, it was clear that the northward railway line was built for a single purpose—the war against the non-human races.

But today, the outpost was much livelier than usual. The two Chiefs from the capital’s Alchemical Weapons Experimental Center had arrived in person, planning to conduct a closed test for a new type of weapon.

As a special advisor sent by the New Federation to the Northern Army, Fran Macaulay had also been fortunate enough to be invited to participate in the test.

His research project on the Demonic Lizardmen population had been progressing slowly these days. To lift their spirits, the other members of his group had either chosen to teach at the Spellcaster Academy or accepted invitations to participate in seminars at the Academy of Sciences. He wasn’t very interested in such things; he’d had his fill of them back in the City of Magic. By comparison, applying to join the army to participate in their live-fire exercises and weapon tests was far more interesting.

For example, today’s closed test of a new armored vehicle at the outpost.

Although he didn’t know the specifics of the creation, it was undoubtedly related to the application of magical energy and soul constructs. From the first time he witnessed the power of the Gun of Annihilation to seeing even more formidable magical weapons in the Northern Realm with his own eyes… Rapid-fire Magical Energy Guns, Sniper Magical Energy Guns, magic revolvers, Magical Energy Explosive Bolt Guns, Beam Energy Cannons, Portable Magical Energy Cannons, and Magical Energy Naval Cannons.

The Magical Weapons R&D Center founded by Harvey seemed to continuously upgrade existing weapons every so often, while also finding time to develop all sorts of new ones. After rigorous testing, these weapons were quickly deployed to the battlefield, providing precise real-world application feedback. The center was truly the heart of this nation-sized war machine.

What was being tested today was not, in the truest sense, a “new” weapon. It was said to be a bold improvement upon alchemical vehicles and War Beasts. Spellshield had seen and personally experienced both of these many times, so there was no novelty in it for him… but being able to exchange a few words with the two Chiefs of the kingdom was a worthwhile gain.

Although Chris and Benoit were Alchemists, they were also research mages with exceptionally solid theoretical foundations. Having served as Harvey’s experimental assistants for years, they were at the very forefront of magical energy applications and soul construct theory—pioneer-like figures worthy of the title “professor.”

“I heard that today’s weapon is a new type of War Beast, created by combining artillery with an alchemical vehicle?”

Chris and Benoit exchanged a look, then both gave Spellshield a mysterious smile and said in unison, “Mr. Macaulay, allow us to keep you in suspense… The technicians are performing the final adjustments. You’ll see its true form soon enough. Please be patient.”

Spellshield shrugged in understanding, then smiled. “If I’m not mistaken, this must be another one of His Majesty Harvey’s ideas, right?”

Chris nodded, pointing at the new vehicle slowly emerging from the sealed hangar. “Of course. His Majesty proposed the development plan for an armored vehicle long ago.”

This… this thing looked completely different from the conventional open-topped alchemical wheeled vehicles, nor did it move on thick mechanical legs like a War Beast. But it had clearly “stitched together” the advantages of both. It looked like a square box, fully armored with camouflage-painted steel plates, revealing only the lower half of its… wheels?

“Those are armored tracks. Compared to wheels and mechanical legs, they allow for more agile and swift movement over rugged terrain.” Chris pointed to a thick cannon barrel protruding from the vehicle’s roof and said proudly, “And this is where its core value lies.”

Only then did Spellshield belatedly realize they had mounted a cannon directly onto this armored vehicle. In addition… extending from each side of the hull were two cluster-type gun barrels, clearly Magical Energy Machine Guns that could rotate to adjust their firing angle.

This was a terrifying war machine, armed to the teeth.

Spellshield could easily imagine soldiers piloting the armored vehicle and charging into a horde of Demonic Lizardmen.

The cannon on top could bombard enemies at point-blank range, and the area-of-effect explosive damage from its bursting shells could quickly clear any obstacles in its path. The Magical Energy Machine Guns on either side provided flank protection; a dense barrage of fire could riddle any enemy within range until they looked like a hornet’s nest.

Even the rear of the vehicle had several circular ports reserved, obviously for the soldiers inside to observe and fire from behind. The design was practically flawless, with no blind spots.

A rain of black crystalline spikes and spears would do almost no damage to such thick refined steel armor. It was likely that only an enemy’s blast of concentrated red light could pierce the vehicle’s external protection.

Benoit seemed to have noticed Spellshield’s thoughts and explained with a smile, “A single, standard bolt of red-light lightning can, at most, cause minor damage to the triple-layered steel armor. While a blast of concentrated red light has a more intense explosive impact, it is also incapable of penetrating the armor… nor will it be able to flip the vehicle over.”

Spellshield swallowed, his eyes fixed on the two deep grooves the armored tracks carved into the hardened ground. He asked dryly, “How much does this armored vehicle weigh, exactly?”

“Twenty thousand pounds!

“Even without factoring in the magical minerals mixed in, the steel consumed in forging this single armored vehicle would be enough to craft a suit of pure steel armor for every member of a several-hundred-strong unit of elite knights.”

Spellshield steadied himself, feeling a wave of mixed excitement and thrill rising in his chest. He couldn’t wait to see what kind of devastating blow this armored vehicle would inflict upon those innumerable, death-defying non-human monsters once it was officially deployed on the battlefield.

“The standard crew for one armored vehicle is eight soldiers: a primary and secondary driver, four to operate the weapons, and two for reconnaissance, observation, and receiving command signals.”

Chris talked effusively about the vehicle’s specifications, his own excitement palpable.

Under the guise of his role as military advisor, Spellshield didn’t need to worry about confidentiality regulations. He leaned close to the two men and asked in a low voice, “This is the ace weapon created for the upcoming general assault on the Number Two Floating Island’s Main Keep from the Ice Sea Base, isn’t it?”

Benoit nodded repeatedly and whispered, “Unfortunately, it can’t be mass-produced yet. According to His Majesty’s plan… the munitions factory, working at full capacity, can only scrape together five finished units per month. And they have to be disassembled for long-distance transport to the Ice Sea front. The cost in materials and transport capacity is an astronomical figure.”

Chapter 629: Military Control

It had been less than half a month since they left Goris, but upon their return, they found it had undergone an earth-shattering transformation.

Ismael had thought he was prepared for any shock, but when he truly passed through the broken, collapsed city gates and entered the Holy City, the scene before him still left him speechless.

The sky was completely shrouded in lead-gray clouds, and the air was filled with a choking odor… It was the unique smell of Dragon’s Flame powder after intense combustion, mixed with the stench of rust and blood, likely from the residual black water and blood of the slain non-human race.

The city could no longer be described as mere broken walls and ruins; not a single intact building remained. The houses and streets looked as if they had been raked over evenly by a giant plow, with only waist-high low walls and foundations relatively unscathed.

The ground was riddled with massive circular craters several meters in diameter… These were the telltale marks left by the explosions of the Valen people’s alchemical weapons. Just looking at the charred fragments of corpses yet to be cleared from around the craters, one could imagine the terrifying power of these weapons.

Captain Farrell and the intelligence officer nicknamed Beetle met them at the city gates again. This time, they brought the detailed document for the “Gatekeeper Protocol” and a group of civil officials surrounded by soldiers.

“Your Excellencies, after signing the protocol, we will, as stipulated, register all Church personnel who will be residing in Goris. This will facilitate the distribution of relief supplies and daily public security management.”

Ismael’s hands, hidden in his sleeves, clenched into fists. He took a moment to compose himself before muttering with self-deprecation, “You’re not going to put us in shackles and assign us to hard labor, are you?”

The intelligence officer, Beetle, chuckled and muttered, “Making Church folk who’ve never done a day of productive work do labor? That would be getting half the results for twice the effort… You can’t operate alchemical machinery, nor can you use modern tools. It’s highly unlikely you’ll be assigned any work.”

The undisguised mockery in his tone was obvious, yet every word he spoke was true. Ismael and Riviera stood in awkward silence, their heads bowed.

Hearing this, the few knights of the Army of Judgment attending the bishops all gripped the side swords at their waists, clearly suppressing their anger… But under the intimidating presence of the silver magic guns in the hands of the black-clothed soldiers, none dared to draw their blades.

“Considering there might still be Demonic Lizardmen who survived the great bombardment hiding in the dark corners of the ruins… the Church’s armed forces will be permitted to remain for the time being. You may confer and decide among yourselves how to progressively clear out the remaining non-human race in the various districts of the Holy City. We will be responsible for guarding the north and south gates to ensure not a single enemy escapes.”

It sounded no different from a caged dogfight… This was likely the Valen people’s primary goal: to pen the remnants of the Church within the ruins of the Holy City, forcing them into constant battle with the scattered enemies roaming the city. While the two sides wore each other down, the Church would also serve as gatekeepers and lookouts, taking the place of a garrison to watch for any movement from the depths of the Chasm of Saints and prevent the Demonic Lizardmen from breaking through the blockade to make a comeback.

“You need not worry about the Winged ones roaming nearby. The reconnaissance airships from the Kingdom’s Western Theater Command will conduct regular patrols. The entire perimeter of the Holy City will be within our aerial surveillance zone.”

The deeper meaning of these words was also clear—the airships were not just for monitoring the non-human race. If they detected any unusual movements from the Church remnants in the Holy City, their terrifyingly powerful alchemical weapons would likely, without hesitation, rain down another artillery purge on the ruins of Goris.

Ismael closed his eyes, took a small golden seal from his robes, and without even looking at the detailed clauses of the protocol, pressed the Cardinal’s sigil onto the signature line.

“We need food, common medicines… and firewood for warmth. There are many young infants among the faithful. Could we… could we trade the horses of the Army of Judgment’s knights for some milk-producing cattle and sheep?”

Farrell nodded and smiled. “A completely reasonable request. We will also provide some tents for shelter as a temporary measure. There should be no shortage of building materials in the city for constructing new houses. For any additional requests… simply send someone to the city gate checkpoint to inform our stationed sentinels.”

According to the protocol, the Northern Army would not enter the Holy City. Although the number of sentinels guarding the north and south gates was small, their role was clearly more akin to that of “jailers.”

Ismael had no desire to say more. After a slight bow with a hand over his chest, he led the knights of the Army of Judgment into the city… The followers trailing closely behind formed a long, teeming line under the direction of the Northern Army soldiers, moving slowly into the city with looks of panic.

…

Passing through the dilapidated main streets of the city, they soon arrived at the edge of the ruins of the Cathedral of Divine Grace, which had completely collapsed into a deep crater.

With heavy steps, Ismael walked to a pile of rubble and reached out to touch a fragment of a bronze bell the size of a door… This was the Bell of Dawn, which once hung high on the cathedral’s spire, ringing punctually every day at sunrise.

As he looked around, he saw that the square before the Cathedral of Divine Grace was riddled with pits. Mottled bloodstains were still faintly visible in the cracks of the shattered stone pavement. The Divine Punishment Faction must have used the cathedral as their stronghold not long ago, gathering a large number of troops and followers to make a last stand here.

They had indeed kept their promise, prepared to make the sacrifice to live or die with the Holy City…

“In accordance with His Holiness the Pope’s final command, our first task is to select a third Cardinal and appoint the Knight Commander of the Radiant Knight Order as the new Chief Inquisitor to lead our remaining forces, maintain order, and ensure the safety of the faithful.”

Ismael took a deep breath, seemingly reinvigorated and completely unaffected by the humiliating confinement protocol he had been forced to sign. “From now on, we can only rely on ourselves. We must fight the non-human race remnants still rampaging through the city and, step by step, purify the Holy City they have defiled… Though Goris was destroyed in the flames of war, the Cathedral of Divine Grace, the symbol of our devout faith and unyielding will, will never fall in our hearts.”

He paused, looked at Riviera, whose expression was equally complex, and said, “This must be the final trial given to us by God. I hope you will all hold fast to your faith and join me in preserving the last flame of the Holy See.”

The high-rank knights gathered around him dropped to one knee, pledging fealty to the Cardinal who was temporarily acting in the Pope’s stead. Then, they closed their eyes, bowed their heads, and began to pray aloud.

Ismael and Riviera exchanged a look but did not join them in praying to God.

From the distant sky, the low hum of an engine droned intermittently. It was the sound of the Valen people’s magical airships patrolling and surveilling them from above.

The ethereal god, as always, never answered the prayers of the faithful…

From now on, they could only rely on themselves.

Chapter 630: Mopping Up the Remnants

In a dense forest on a hill about fifteen kilometers from the Holy City of Goris, a Demonic Lizardman Winged one suddenly burst through the thick canopy, beating its wings as it flew toward the sky.

At almost the same instant, a bullet shot up from below, piercing straight through its chest and abdomen. A spray of blood mist erupted in the air, and the target that had just escaped to supposed safety crashed heavily to the ground.

Damo Franck blew smugly on the smoking muzzle of his gun, brushed aside the bushes in his way, and walked slowly over to the mangled corpse of the non-human monster.

“Franck, your marksmanship seems a lot better than it was back in Blackstone City.” Another Mage, his colleague Raphael who had been on guard nearby, came over at the sound. He smiled in praise as he looked at his companion’s recent handiwork.

Franck curled his lip and snorted proudly. “We’re getting a virtually unlimited supply of Magical Energy Bullets. It’s not that hard to rapidly improve your accuracy in a short amount of time.”

Raphael nodded and sighed. “If we’d had such an abundant supply of ammunition back in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, our advance wouldn’t have been so difficult.”

Back in Blackstone City, even Scout Mages operating in small units deep behind enemy lines were only issued fifty Magical Energy Bullets per mission. Every shot had to count; we fought while meticulously counting every bullet.

It wasn’t until they joined the Northern Army, following Marshal Andre Weiss under orders from Chief Gallagher, that they truly understood what it was like to fight a well-supplied war…

The rapidly spinning barrels of the Magical Energy Machine Guns, unleashing a dense rain of bullets on the enemy like a downpour… the artillery bombardments thundering in unison from the batteries every thirty seconds, the beam-based anti-air weapons mounted on the combat airships.

Not to mention the new Magical Energy Guns issued to them. With their massive breeches that could hold twenty-five rounds and their powerful, uninterrupted high-speed firing capabilities, their old Guns of Annihilation—which they used to cherish and maintain like treasures—seemed as shoddy and inefficient as “fire pokers” in comparison.

The two chatted for a while longer, waiting for the other members of their Mage Squad patrolling nearby to regroup. At the same time, they took out a simplified survey map to confirm their position and marked off an area enclosed by cross-hatched lines.

“This hilly area is pretty much cleared. Tally up your kills… We’ll head back to camp before dark.”

“Let’s spread out and sweep the area again. There might still be some non-Winged ones that slipped through the net. Don’t overlook any water sources. They need to immerse their bodies in water periodically to maintain the vitality of their magic-resistant hides.”

This crucial piece of combat intelligence was first discovered by the New Federation’s research group, far away in the capital of Starfire City. It was quickly verified by the Northern Army’s General Staff and disseminated to all combat units on the front lines, allowing the soldiers and Mages in the field to better understand the enemy’s racial traits.

For both the Winged ones and regular Demonic Lizardmen, their black water weapons were a consumable resource. If they were no longer seen freely throwing their solidified black water weapons in battle, it meant their “ammunition” was running low. They could only rely on their final, condensed black crystalline weapons to resist stubbornly in a hopeless situation.

Likewise, their red light energy could not be used indefinitely. It was similar in nature to the magical energy a Spellcaster stored within their own body. Although it couldn’t be replenished by external sources like magic stones, it also required a long recovery period after multiple uses.

This meant that a Winged one with depleted red light energy was essentially just a flying creature with an extra pair of wings.

As long as their protective hide was pierced, exposing the soft flesh within, it would inflict a fatal wound. There were no exceptions.

Perhaps due to their origins in the abyss of the Land-Sea, their magic-resistant hides—the very thing that naturally countered a Spellcaster’s greatest advantage—also required them to soak in water periodically. Otherwise, if a Demonic Lizardman fought on land for too long, its once-supple hide would gradually dry out and stiffen over time, severely hampering its movements.

This meant that the special operations squads and battle mages tasked with mopping up the routed enemies in the forests near the Holy City of Goris often just had to search areas with water sources. Sometimes, they could simply lie in wait for the perfect opportunity by a river or stream and still run into plenty of scattered non-human soldiers wandering the area.

…

The faint sound of gunfire echoed from the distant forest, startling numerous birds perched in the treetops into flight and immediately drawing their attention.

Franck tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. “Probably not another Mage Squad… dealing with a few remnants who slipped through the net wouldn’t cause such a ruckus.”

“It’s probably those Bloodline Warriors again… The explosive bolt guns they’re issued make a huge commotion when they fire. Sometimes they even like to engage the enemy in hand-to-hand combat. They’re just like a pack of hyenas that enjoy toying with their prey.” Raphael curled his lip, clearly disdainful of their methods.

In the past, Bloodline Warriors, as squires to Spellcasters, often served as vassals to battle mages, participating in frontal assaults against the Demons. There was a clear difference in status between the two, and most Spellcasters rarely treated them as equals or comrades-in-arms.

But these Bloodline Warriors from the Northern Realm were clearly different. Rumor had it they were all converted in a ritual personally officiated by His Majesty the Emperor. Every one of them was a formidable being possessing a high-rank bloodline, and there were nearly a thousand of them.

Just thinking about the vast amount of rare and expensive ritual materials needed for such a large force of extraordinary warriors was enough to make the Spellcasters of the Federation shudder… Not even some of the leaders in the City of Magic, Araye, or the ancient wizard families behind the high-rank Wizard Council could afford the cost of their conversion and training.

What unsettled Franck and the others most was the exceedingly arrogant and high-profile style of these Bloodline Warriors. They directly treated battle mages like them as weaker support personnel. In the operation to mop up the remaining non-humans, they had even taken the initiative to request the more difficult area reconnaissance missions.

They were completely looking down on them!

“Let’s head back to camp a little later. We can use the remaining daylight to quickly move to the next search area,” Raphael suggested, frowning.

Before the operation began, he and Franck, provoked by the Bloodline Warriors’ not-so-subtle taunts, had accepted a private bet to see who could get more kills. Now, two or three days had passed, and every day when they returned to camp to compare tallies… they were always a few short of those guys. It was incredibly embarrassing for them both.

“Chief, their squads have guys with awakened tracking and night vision talents. If we operate at night, we’ll be at a disadvantage!”

Although many battle mages had undergone demonic body modification, their physical toughness was still far from that of the thick-skinned Bloodline Warriors. After a full day of fighting, they couldn’t help but feel fatigued.

“What’s there to be afraid of? Marshal Andre’s Mage Squad is nearby. We’ll move toward them and link up to operate together!”

When facing the Demonic Lizardmen, who were natural counters to Spellcasters, battle mages might indeed be weaker than the Bloodline Warriors who were masters of various magical energy weapons. However, their mastery of spells and vast combat experience were real skills. It didn’t necessarily mean they were inferior.

“Everyone, pull yourselves together! Get your detection spells and tracking spells ready! Don’t forget… we don’t just fight with the Magical Energy Guns in our hands. Let those haughty dog-noses get a good look at how Spellcasters fight with their brains and their wits!”

Taking Leave at the Start of the Month for a Business Trip!

Taking leave at the start of the month for a business trip!

I need to head out to the project site on a business trip tomorrow, so I’ll be taking a day off as usual…

Apologies!

Chapter 631: The Secret of Fusion

Starfire City, Northern Realm, in the Laboratory beneath the Royal Palace.

Rainer and Astaren stood guard at the hall entrance, continuously stopping the high-ranking officials who came to inquire about the situation.

“How long has His Majesty been in the Laboratory? Why hasn’t he come out yet?”

“Fusing with a Magic Core must have a certain degree of danger. Why would His Majesty insist on clearing the area, not even allowing the Bloodline Warriors of the Personal Guard to remain inside?”

“At the very least, he should let the two Legendary Chiefs assist him from the side!”

The two alchemical creatures stood like a pair of towering metal statues before the Laboratory’s heavy, steel-cast doors, saying nothing. Their impervious demeanor left everyone helpless.

Dawson and Salas exchanged a glance, then gestured with their hands to placate the crowd. “Let’s all go to the main hall and wait. When it comes to the pure theory of mana application… and research in the domain of the soul, the two of us truly have less authority than His Majesty Harvey.”

Arturo, who had hurried over, also nodded in agreement. “The Chief is right. As the founder of the soul spellcasting school, His Majesty’s research into mana and mental energy far surpasses our own. Besides, he has the经验 of a successful fusion from last time. There won’t be any major problems.”

Although most of the Spellcasters present were high-rank, they knew next to nothing about a brand-new school like soul spellcasting. Hearing a triple guarantee from a Legendary Chief and the Dean of the Academy of Sciences, they could only set aside their worries for the time being and return to the hall above to wait.

The other officials, who came from commoner backgrounds, were even more clueless about magic. They could only brace themselves and repeatedly question their Spellcaster colleagues, their anxiety plain to see… Compared to the high-level casters present, they were clearly the group more terrified of something happening to Harvey.

…

Little did they know that Harvey, currently alone in the Laboratory fusing with the Church’s Magic Core, was locked in a “seesaw battle” that was giving him an immense headache.

As soon as he obtained this core fragment, he had learned from Pope Calvin that it was a Legacy Fragment named 【New Life】. The power of laws it contained was the very foundation upon which the Holy See had constructed its many high-rank divine healing spells. The transformations of the Church’s formidable combat forces—the Demon Slayers and the Sacred Prayer Guard—relied entirely on this fragment’s properties.

From these truths, Harvey could easily deduce that the core fragment discovered in the Spine of the Continent Mountains ruins possessed the a power of laws related to “communication and control”—the core itself acted like a “queen bee” in a massive hive, controlling all nearby Alchemical constructs that possessed soul-like characteristics and communicating with them without any barriers.

When fusing with the “Dominion” core, Harvey hadn’t encountered many difficulties or obstacles… Thanks to the strange properties of his own magical runes and Mental Anchor, the core fragment was suppressed with almost no resistance, and the entire process of devouring it went exceptionally smoothly.

But this newly acquired 【New Life】 fragment was a completely different story.

If the “Dominion” core possessed high-level intelligence, had its own independent consciousness, and could communicate with Harvey without issue…

Then 【New Life】 seemed like a “primitive artificial intelligence” that only possessed basic instincts and followed its inertia to maintain its own operation.

Harvey exhausted every method he could think of but found it impossible to communicate with it. After a long while, he finally gave up and decided to forcefully fuse with and devour it… only to discover that the power of laws contained within this core was tremendously vast. Harvey pushed his mental energy to its absolute limit, yet the speed of fusion couldn’t keep up with the speed at which the core regenerated after being damaged.

It was like a living tumor, endlessly proliferating and growing!

Harvey floated in the virtual space created by the Magic Core. Beneath his feet, on an endless parallel scroll, countless metallic particles constantly shifted their forms and combinations. They moved at a steady pace under the control of his mind, coalescing into several large and small silver circles that enveloped him layer by layer, like an asteroid belt orbiting a star.

Each of these tens of millions of tiny particles represented an Alchemical construct or an Energy-devouring beetle existing in the real world. Their projections in this virtual space allowed Harvey’s consciousness to travel freely into any of their bodies, achieving a synchronized consciousness at the soul level.

It was by using this power of laws that he had transformed the Energy-devouring beetles into micro alchemical beasts, forging a massive war insect tide that achieved a surprise victory in the Battle of Great Bear Lake, delivering a targeted and fatal blow to the Demonic Lizardmen.

Unfortunately, this powerful and terrifying power of laws was utterly useless against 【New Life】, which was also a core fragment.

No matter how many times he forced the 【New Life】 core to shatter and quickly maneuvered his mental energy tentacles to begin a deep fusion… the deep red, spindle-shaped crystal, which looked no different from “Dominion,” would always reassemble faster than he could act. The parts that Harvey had already devoured and caused to be missing would instantly proliferate and grow back, completing itself once more.

Harvey couldn’t help but recall the knowledge he had obtained from the “Dominion” core—【Every core possesses a portion of The Source of a law, and The Source is the law itself. From the moment of schism, it was destined… fusion is an inevitable outcome.】

“If mutual attraction and fusion are inevitable, why is 【New Life】 refusing to merge with me, who has already devoured ‘Dominion’? Could it be that the order of fusion between different Legacy Fragments is fixed and cannot be randomly altered?”

This line of thinking wasn’t entirely without basis…

According to Pope Calvin, after the Humans stole the Legacy Core from the Demonic Lizardmen, they shattered it into twelve pieces. Each core fragment possessed its own independent properties of law, yet at their source, they were inclined toward eventual reunification.

This implied that the fusion might not be completely chaotic and disorderly. Like numbers, they might need to be arranged in a predetermined sequence, a sequence that could neither be reversed… nor skipped.

“In that case, a fragment like 【New Life】, which has not yet developed a high-level consciousness and cannot be communicated with, should be ranked lower in the fusion sequence… Conversely, ‘Dominion’, which was easier to deal with, is higher in the sequence.”

At this thought, a terrifying idea suddenly flashed through Harvey’s mind.

Back then… when he was devouring the “Dominion” core, it had said that it, like him, possessed a portion of The Source!

That was the cause of the mutation in Harvey’s magical runes and the appearance of the strange Shore of Souls within his planet-sized Mental Anchor… In the past, Harvey had assumed it was due to the unique nature of his soul as a Transmigrator. It wasn’t until he encountered the Magic Core and communicated with it that he understood this was also a tangible manifestation of the power of laws within The Source.

But where did this Source, which belonged exclusively to Harvey, come from?

The twelve Legacy Fragments had been given to the twelve tribal leaders of the Humans who migrated to the southern continent and had been secretly passed down through generations… Harvey’s background after transmigrating was that of a minor landowner; his family history couldn’t possibly be prominent enough to be traced back to ancient times.

“For now, I can only take this one step at a time. At least I have the 【New Life】 core. Even though I can’t fuse with it successfully… as long as I keep searching for more of the lost Legacy Fragments, I’ll eventually uncover the final truth!”

Chapter 632: Visitors from the Sea

“That’s the gist of the situation.” Harvey looked at the high-ranking spellcasters of the kingdom and shrugged helplessly. “The power of laws contained in this New Life fragment is both rigid and powerful. I simply can’t seem to merge with it.”

Dawson was stunned speechless for a long moment before he recovered and said slowly, “Since Your Majesty already possesses a core suspected to be ‘Dominion’, you should be able to smoothly devour ‘New Life’, which is clearly of a lower sequence and lacks a high-level consciousness! This is like putting the cart before the horse… I really can’t understand it.”

Salas pondered for a moment before speaking slowly, “I agree with Your Majesty’s analysis. The fusion of Legacy Fragments needs to follow a set sequence. This in itself is a manifestation of the laws…”

Then, with a solemn expression, he advised Harvey, “Your Majesty, I believe the power of laws from a Legacy Fragment doesn’t just strengthen the individual spellcaster. The knowledge it contains can be directly applied to the real world, providing an irreplaceable boost to the strength of our entire people… Therefore, I think there’s no need to risk a forced fusion. As long as the fragment remains in our hands, we can always find a way to maximize its use.”

Although Harvey hadn’t said it explicitly, Salas had overheard the entire conversation between him and his teacher, Calvin, on the Magic Net, and he remembered it vividly…

A Legacy Core possessing the power of laws was not something humans could easily control. Blindly devouring it would cause one’s magical runes to mutate. The deeper the fusion, the more fragments devoured… would lead to the infinite expansion of one’s Mental Anchor. Once it reached the limit of what an individual could bear…

Therefore, his words, openly and secretly, were meant to persuade Harvey not to rush into the risky act of fusion and devouring. As the supreme ruler of the United Kingdom and the spiritual leader of this group of spellcasters, acting cautiously to preserve himself was clearly more in line with everyone’s interests and expectations.

Harvey nodded. “This matter indeed cannot be rushed. I plan to use my identity as an agent of the Magic Net Forum to issue a bounty to all forum members… to collect as many ancient records and documents related to Legacy Fragments as possible, and try to find traces of the other lost fragments from the clues left by history.”

“The Magic Net Encyclopedia has already indexed all the documents and texts stored in the magical treasury of Araye. Dawson and I will be responsible for screening and searching through them as quickly as possible to see if we can find any valuable information.”

The Legendary Mage took the initiative to volunteer for the role of “scribe.” The other spellcasters naturally didn’t dare to be idle. Duncan quickly stood up and said, “I’ll contact the independent spellcasters in Blackstone City through the Forum to see if they have any information.”

“I’ll be responsible for contacting the Burrowing Dwarves and the High Elves through the Forum… they might have more complete ancient records preserved.” Spellshield followed, placing a hand on his chest.

Compared to the human race, which often erupted in civil wars, the Dwarves and Elves had long been in a state of internal peace since migrating to the south. Their people’s historical legacy had hardly suffered any loss or interruption, and most of their records of major events from ancient times were relatively complete.

Astaren thought for a moment and also suggested, “Although the Holy City of Goris was destroyed in the war, the remaining members of the Moderate Faction who returned to garrison it should still have many precious historical texts. Ordering them to transcribe a portion… would also help us verify the authenticity of much of our information.”

As for the High Wizard Council… this most insular and conservative spellcaster organization on the southern continent, its members were mostly stubbornly old-fashioned to a frightening degree, and the family relationships and vested interests behind them were extremely complex. Harvey had no intention of extending an olive branch to them right now, planning to deal with them later when he had the time.

“As for the research on the ‘New Life’ core fragment, I want to entrust it directly to Egnor’s research group… The Health Department and the Agriculture Department must cooperate fully. If necessary, I ask that the New Federation and the Academy of Sciences also provide timely support…”

Before Harvey could finish his instructions, a personal guard hurried into the conference room. After bowing, he reported, “Your Majesty, a joint delegation formed by members from the Coral Sea-folk and the Abyssal Sea-folk of the Southern Seas… has just arrived at Grizzly Keep by water. The Chief Administrator, Earl Fegan, asks for your instructions on whether to permit them to enter the capital as a diplomatic mission.”

“Oh? They’ve arrived so quickly?” Harvey raised an eyebrow. “They’re certainly concerned with matters of status. I clearly had Dean Arturo invite them to the Northern Realm in a private capacity, but I didn’t expect them to be so by-the-book about it.”

A low laugh rumbled from Arturo’s metal-cast chest as he slowly explained to Harvey, “Your Majesty, that’s just how the Sea-folk are. They enjoy imitating human etiquette and norms, yet they pride themselves on having an independent cultural heritage… But as long as you can earn their trust, they’re quite easy to get along with most of the time.”

“I’ve heard that although the Sea-folk are weak in combat, most are skilled in song and dance, with outstanding talent in architecture, sculpture, music, painting, and artifact appraisal. Are they almost all natural-born artists?”

“Especially in architecture and sculpture…” Arturo replied with a smile. “If Your Majesty has the chance to visit their Coral Holy City, you will surely be amazed by their unparalleled aesthetics and exquisite craftsmanship…”

It sounded like they weren’t just complete “embroidered pillows” after all. Harvey had been planning to keep them in Starfire City as long as possible anyway; he had major plans for these distinguished guests from the sea.

“Have Ashe, the Minister of Culture and Propaganda, receive them… Treat these distinguished guests who have traveled so far to the Northern Realm well. Fulfill their requests as much as possible, and have them stay for a while.”

…

The south, Grizzly Keep, in the Chief Administrator’s office at the municipal hall.

Earl Fegan put down the alchemical communicator in his hand and turned, forcing a broad smile onto his face. Suppressing his discomfort, he said gently to the two strangely-featured “distinguished guests” before him, “The capital has approved your request to visit. You are permitted to enter Starfire City as a diplomatic mission…”

He had heard rumors of the Sea-folk in the past and knew that despite their odd appearance, they were a demi-human race with a common bloodline. But coming face-to-face with them still gave him a fright. The leader of the self-proclaimed Coral Sea-folk had a build roughly similar to a human’s, but his face was flat with bulging eyes, and prominent, slit-like gills grew on his cheeks. His feet were bare, and the webbing between his toes was completely unlike a human’s.

And as for the one who called himself the leader of the Abyssal Sea-folk… Earl Fegan found he dared not even look directly at him for too long. His upper body was not much different from the Coral Sea-folk’s, but his lower half, clad in a silk loincloth, consisted of several massive, thick, octopus-like tentacles. As he moved, they left a trail of wet, disgusting slime on the floor.

Earl Fegan quietly swallowed and glanced at the grandfather clock against the wall. He then made a very thoughtful suggestion, “The hour is already late. Even if you were to leave for Jackdaw Town immediately, I’m afraid you would miss the last passenger train through the Spine of the Continent Mountains. I’ve taken the liberty of requesting permission from His Majesty… to have Grizzly Keep assign two transport Airships to take you there.”

He had to send them to the capital today, no matter what. Keeping this group of “seafood” in Grizzly Keep… was enough to give him nightmares.

Chapter 633: Aesthetic Differences

“The landing field is clear, you may land! Repeat! You may land!”

A transport airship, with its massive gasbag, circled a few times in the sky before slowly descending onto the open landing field, guided by the flag-waving ground crew.

The cabin door opened wide, and seven or eight guests, dressed magnificently but with strange appearances, stumbled out. This immediately drew a crowd of onlookers, and hushed gasps of amazement and whispers spread through the gathering people.

“Good heavens, who… who are they? High Elves from the east?”

“Can’t be… I’ve seen Elven exchange students in the capital, and they don’t look like that…”

“Look! A few of them have… octopus-like tentacles for lower bodies! How terrifying!”

“Hush! Didn’t you see they arrived on an official transport airship? They must be allies from a non-human race visiting us. Don’t be so rude!”

“Ah! It’s Minister Ashe from the Ministry of Culture. He’s here to receive these strange… guests.”

Ashe’s blonde hair was impeccably trimmed and styled, and he wore a neatly pressed, dark blue official’s uniform. With a broad smile, he strode forward. “Mr. Zaka, Mr. Epton, on behalf of His Majesty the Emperor and the United Kingdom, I welcome you and the Sea-folk diplomatic mission to Starfire City.”

As a descendant of the Lambert family, Ashe had accompanied his father, Arturo, on many visits to the Coral Holy City in the past. To both the Coral Sea-folk and the Abyssal Sea-folk, he was a familiar and friendly face.

Seeing that he was the one receiving them, the Sea-folk breathed a collective sigh of relief… Most of them were setting foot on land for the first time. They had traveled a great distance to the heart of the continent and had just endured the once-in-a-lifetime experience of high-altitude flight. Their hearts were nearly leaping out of their throats, their steps were unsteady, and their legs felt weak. They were fighting with all their might not to vomit in front of the crowd.

Zaka and Epton exchanged a look, their tense expressions relaxing. “Mr. Lambert, it’s been a long time… We are deeply honored to have been invited to the Northern Realm by Clan Head Arturo…”

Ashe quickly waved his hand, cutting off their long-winded pleasantries. “There’s no need for such formalities! Please, follow me into the city first. It’s been a long and bumpy journey for all of you. Let’s at least get you settled in your hotel to rest. We can discuss other matters later.”

Several open-top alchemical wheeled vehicles rumbled over and stopped beside the landing field.

The Sea-folk were somewhat bewildered, but they did their best to maintain their composure, trying not to look like they’d never seen such a thing before… They clambered into the vehicles Ashe had sent for them, using both hands and feet, and sat rigidly in their seats, not daring to move.

Who knew that as soon as the wheeled vehicles started moving…

“Retch! Retch…” Several of the Abyssal Sea-folk could no longer hold it in. With pained expressions, they dry-heaved a few times, their tentacles flailing uncontrollably. This terrified the driver, who broke out in a cold sweat. Staring straight ahead, he stomped on the accelerator, wishing he could finish this transport mission instantly.

Epton turned to Ashe with an embarrassed look and apologized, “Mr. Lambert, I do apologize… We just experienced airship travel for the first time, and now we’re riding in this strange alchemical carriage.”

Zaka leaned close to Ashe’s ear and asked in a low voice, “In our reply to Clan Head Arturo, we mentioned asking him to mediate on our behalf regarding the purchase of ironclad ships and magical weapons from His Majesty the Emperor. I was wondering…”

Ashe’s eyes darted. He immediately recalled the task Harvey had given him and said mysteriously, “A big deal like this isn’t something a minor department official like me would know the details of. However, the fact that you were permitted to enter the country at least shows that His Majesty is not averse to contact with the Sea-folk… And considering how helpful the Abyssal Sea Chart is to the military’s plans, I think there’s definitely a chance!”

Zaka and Epton were overjoyed to hear this and quickly asked, “Then when can we have an audience with His Majesty the Emperor? We’ve brought plenty of treasures from the Coral Sea… Be it crystallized coral or aquamarine, we are certain His Majesty will not be disappointed!”

“Don’t be in such a hurry. His Majesty is busy with state affairs and doesn’t have time to receive a diplomatic mission at a moment’s notice. You’ll need to be patient and stay in the capital for a while, visit the various government departments, and establish good relationships with them. That’s the only way to ensure this deal is completely foolproof.”

The Sea-folk had always been well aware of the power struggles and intrigues among human nobles. They also knew that the Emperor, according to rumors, was not someone you could meet easily. Their spirits immediately lifted, and they puffed out their chests, assuring him, “We came to the Northern Realm prepared for a protracted war. It doesn’t matter how long we stay. As long as we can get His Majesty the Emperor to agree, we don’t even mind if the price of the ironclad ships doubles!”

The “sea fish” had taken the bait!

Ashe was delighted. As the wheeled vehicle sped along the wide, flat road, he pointed at the cityscape and changed the subject. “This is your first time in Starfire City. What are your impressions of the United Kingdom’s northern capital…?”

Zaka and Epton, a great weight lifted from their minds, looked around and gave their honest assessment. “We made landfall in Faros, the Land of a Thousand Sails, and we have never seen such a magnificent and grand city on our journey here, to say nothing of those giant towers that pierce the clouds… It would not be an exaggeration to call it a miracle.”

This sincere compliment made Ashe beam with pride. He felt a sense of honor and satisfaction, and said with a chuckle, “And how does it compare to the Coral Holy City?”

The two mission leaders froze awkwardly, unable to find the right words… before a young Sea-folk in the back seat couldn’t help but speak up.

“While the Coral Holy City cannot compare to Starfire City in scale, in terms of architectural skill and decorative beauty, no capital on the southern continent can surpass it.”

“That’s right. You people seem to have an unusual obsession with uniformity in your architecture. Even the roads must be perfectly neat. And those stretches of gray houses along the way are practically cast from the same mold. There’s no sense of beauty to speak of.”

“Just because the buildings are tall and the city is large… doesn’t make it beautiful.”

Seeing Ashe’s face about to fall, Zaka and Epton quickly turned and shot their young clansmen a look, silencing their arrogant words. They apologized, “It is because these young ones have not seen much of the nations of the south that they are so rude… Please don’t mind them, Mr. Lambert.”

Ashe raised a hand to adjust his collar and chuckled lightly. “It’s fine. This has always been an aesthetic difference between our two races. Since you will all be staying in the capital for some time, I can accompany you to see many of the completed buildings, as well as the Royal Theater, which is under my purview. A new play will be premiering in a few days…”

“It will be a perfect opportunity for you all to attend and offer us some honest opinions.”

Chapter 634: Baiting the “Fish”

As Ashe led Zaka and Epton, with several young Sea-folk in tow, they had just stepped onto the third floor… when they saw a middle-aged man in a formal black gentleman’s suit rise from his dining table and bow gracefully to greet them.

“Ah! Minister Elliot, I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting!” Ashe stepped forward and embraced him with practiced ease, then turned to make the introductions. “These are the Sea-folk allies from the southern seas I told you about… And this is Mr. Elliot, the Deputy Director of the Kingdom’s Ministry of Commerce, who oversees import and export trade.”

He paused, then winked at Zaka and the others, adding teasingly, “Of course, Minister Elliot isn’t just a trade expert. He was once St. Valen’s most renowned and foremost antiques connoisseur, and his family’s private collection is truly substantial.”

Elliot had the perfect elegant demeanor of a southern noble. He showed not a trace of disdain or fear toward his strangely-shaped Sea-folk guests, simply ushering them to their seats with a warm smile. “Minister Lambert, you flatter me!” he chuckled. “When the Rotting Plague broke out, my entire family had to flee for our lives… If not for His Majesty’s favor, we would have been hard-pressed to even survive, let alone have the opportunity to sit here with all of you, discussing collections and art.”

As he turned to his Sea-folk guests, he found the rumors to be true. They were fond of ornate, complex silk garments and did their utmost to imitate the reserved mannerisms of human nobles with every gesture. Inwardly, he couldn’t help but find it amusing.

“I’ve long heard that our Sea-folk allies are exceptionally gifted in the arts. Since Minister Lambert has brought us together today, we absolutely must have a good chat. Why don’t we treat this as a private gathering where we can all speak freely?”

Ashe raised his glass, gently swirling the clear liquid within, and returned the sentiment with an affirming smile.

Waiters then began to serve a succession of exquisitely prepared dishes, and everyone tacitly started to eat. Most of the Sea-folk delegation had never set foot on the southern mainland before and found these elaborate terrestrial foods completely unheard of. The novel flavors and textures left them stunned. Though they struggled to maintain their composure, the speed at which their plates were cleared could not conceal their enjoyment.

Throughout the meal, the hosts, Ashe and Elliot, frequently proposed toasts and steered the conversation toward elegant topics like theater and painting. This immediately drew the younger Sea-folk into the discussion, and the atmosphere grew warm and friendly. The distance between the two sides closed considerably, and everyone wore smiles of genuine pleasure.

Zaka suddenly felt a supple tentacle tug gently at his ankle. Snapping back to the matter at hand, he put down his glass, cleared his throat, and addressed Elliot. “Minister, I hear the Kingdom’s Ministry of Commerce has long been… exporting cargo ironclad ships to the major southern merchant guilds. I wonder, what conditions must one meet to gain permission to purchase these vessels?”

Elliot raised an eyebrow slightly, shooting Ashe a meaningful glance. He pondered for a moment before saying, “Forgive me for being direct, but ironclad ships aren’t something one can simply purchase with money… The southern merchant guilds you mentioned are all shareholders in the Starfire Joint Import-Export Company, partners personally appointed by His Majesty.”

Upon hearing this, several of Epton’s tentacles shifted, and he immediately rose to his feet. “Then… then I wonder, might we have the honor of becoming… er… shareholders, as you say? To receive His Majesty’s approval and purchase a few ironclad ships?”

“Ahem… That… That I can’t say for sure. If we were talking about ordinary export goods, perhaps I could find a way to help you. But ironclad ships are a vital strategic resource for the kingdom. Without going through multiple levels of approval and ultimately receiving His Majesty’s personal consent, we daren’t sell so much as a single deck plank abroad.”

Seeing the conversation had reached this juncture, Ashe decided to fan the flames. “Zaka and Epton have long-standing ties with my family. In fact, their invitation to serve as envoys was something my father strongly encouraged… Minister Elliot, could you perhaps do your best to help mediate on their behalf?”

Zaka immediately shot a look at one of the younger Sea-folk, who promptly produced an exquisitely crafted coral box from his pack. He lifted the lid, revealing it to be filled to the brim with a variety of aquamarines, and gently pushed it across the table toward Elliot.

“We implore you, My lord Minister, please help us find a way to secure His Majesty’s approval. If you could reveal even a little… the Coral Sea-folk and the Abyssal Sea-folk will never forget your determined assistance!”

Although it was clearly a setup, the sight of the box overflowing with gems still made Elliot flinch. He quickly closed the lid, pushed it back, and scanned the room. Seeing that there were no other waiters in the private dining room, he let out a long sigh of relief.

“Kingdom officials are strictly forbidden from accepting bribes! You’re putting my feet to the fire!”

After gulping down the rest of his wine, Elliot exchanged another glance with Ashe and confided in a low voice, “I happened to overhear in a court council meeting… His Majesty dispatched the Royal Navy to the Coral Holy City to help you complete your ancient God-Worshipping Duel. Is that correct?”

Epton nodded repeatedly. “That’s right. His Majesty’s reinforcements not only helped us drive back the invading demonized horned sharks, they also ventured deep into the Ritual Sea to help us retrieve the Coral Godstone. It is precisely because of this… that our two peoples decided to formally forge an alliance with the kingdom and maintain friendly relations from this day forward!”

A look of understanding dawned on Elliot’s face. He continued in a hushed tone, “I’ve heard… His Majesty is extremely interested in certain things found in the depths of the Ritual Sea. I suspect it may be some rare magical materials native to your peoples. As you know… His Majesty comes from a noble line of Spellcasters and has made considerable contributions to the field of magical research.”

Precious magical materials?

Zaka and Epton were stunned. They spoke in unison, “The depths of the Ritual Sea are completely desolate. Not even coral reefs grow there. Apart from the Godstone, what other magical materials could there be?”

The God-Worshipping Ceremony of their two peoples had gone on for nearly a thousand years. Generation after generation of their warriors had braved mortal danger, diving into the sea abyss to repeat the ancient tradition of retrieving the Godstone. They knew the conditions on that seabed like the back of their hands; it was impossible for them to have missed anything.

Ashe reached out and nudged the stupefied Epton. “Something you consider worthless might be seen very differently through the eyes of a human Spellcaster!” he whispered. “In any case, the information has been passed to you. Whether or not you can use it as a bargaining chip to negotiate with His Majesty… is entirely up to you!”

At these blatant words, understanding dawned on the Sea-folk. Their faces filled with expressions of gratitude.

“Mr. Lambert, Mr. Elliot… thank you for the hint! We understand!” Zaka said, his voice trembling as he struggled to contain his excitement. “That’s right, something a Spellcaster considers valuable could easily be overlooked by us… If we can arrange a joint exploration of the Ritual Sea with your kingdom, perhaps… perhaps we could persuade His Majesty to agree to sell us ironclad ships!”

Chapter 635: Mountain Offensive

“Is that Rielke City?” Vaughn lowered the spyglass in his hands and stood up, looking with his naked eyes at the mountain city built of gray stone on the distant cliff.

Although everyone knew Alid was a small mountain kingdom with little territory, when the Northern Army finally advanced to the vicinity of its capital, they were still shocked by the treacherous “site selection” for this impoverished nation’s royal city.

It was built right on a cliffside plateau. Judging by its scale alone, it was even smaller than Grizzly Keep, with only a single steep, zigzagging mountain road carved along the cliff’s edge connecting it to the outside world.

“Whether based on the aerial surveys from the reconnaissance airships or repeated confirmations with the local guides… there’s no mistake. Rielke City truly has only one rugged mountain road for entry and exit. It’s said that when the first Grand Duke of Alid built the city, he requisitioned over ten thousand conscripted laborers from the Church. It took eight years, hollowing out half the mountain before us, to create this fortress that is so easy to defend and hard to attack.”

Now something of an intellectual, Vaughn pursed his lips and thought for a moment before spitting and cursing under his breath, “Those goddamn nobles, wasting lives and resources just to save their own cowardly skins!”

Wayne took the spyglass from him and stood on his tiptoes to observe for a moment. “Don’t you think Rielke City looks a little off?”

“Off how?” Vaughn was taken aback. His Majesty was quite interested in the population of Alid’s capital, and his orders were to avoid harming civilians as much as possible, figuring out a way to gradually relocate them from the barren mountains after capturing the city to supplement the industrial and agricultural labor shortages in Goldshine City and Fengyuan City.

“No matter what, it’s a royal capital with a population of five to six thousand. Even if they caught wind of our impending attack and gathered all the surrounding lords’ forces to hole up and hold their position… it’s not possible that there isn’t a single merchant caravan or patrol of knights entering or leaving the city, right?”

With so many people crammed into such a small city, the daily consumption of food and fodder alone would be considerable. Even if they had stockpiled large quantities of supplies for war, they would still need a continuous flow from the outside. Otherwise, it would be a slow, self-inflicted death.

Vaughn nodded and ordered his adjutant to bring over a local guide. He asked in a deep voice, “Have you been to Rielke before?”

The guide was a Valen man from Wangshan Prefecture. Back when relations between the two countries were good, he often transported high-quality animal pelts from near Rielke to sell in the capital, Goldshine City. He knew Alid’s situation fairly well and answered honestly, “Normally, Rielke’s gates open at sunrise and close around sunset. Throughout the day, at least three or four merchant caravans would pass through, mostly grain convoys from the Holy City, Goris, or small merchant guilds from our own kingdom.”

Even when the situation with neighboring countries grew tense, or large bands of brigands were roaming nearby, the City Guard would choose to keep the gates open, preferring to send troops down the mountain to intercept enemies in advance rather than disrupt the city’s supply shipments.

Dav was growing impatient and spoke up first. “Why make things so complicated? Just send a squadron of reconnaissance airships to check things out. Better yet, bring a few bomber airships along. A fly-by over the Earl of Westwind’s Royal Palace… drop a few high-explosive aerial bombs on him to give him a taste.”

Vaughn shook his head, his expression grim. This was entirely different from fighting within St. Valen’s borders. To the people of Alid, the Northern Army were not only aggressors who had brazenly invaded their territory without reason, but they had also destroyed the Papal State of Goris, which they regarded as a place of pilgrimage. It was hard to imagine the city’s populace, most of whom were devout believers, not seeing them as enemies.

If they were to bomb the capital with airships without any prior diplomatic efforts… the plan to pacify them peacefully afterward would likely become exceptionally difficult.

“Why so hesitant? If we’re not bombing the city, that’s fine too. We can just blast open their gates, clear out any defending troops who try to resist, and capture the Earl of Westwind alive.” Dav pulled a cigarette from his pocket and stuck it in his mouth, shrugging indifferently. “His Majesty did order us to gather the populace, but if they insist on fighting to the death, we can’t just let our soldiers wait around in the mountains, can we?”

Wayne chimed in with a sinister tone, “We can outlast them. If we just lay siege to the city, I guarantee… in less than half a month, the starving commoners will open the gates themselves, tie up the defending soldiers, and bring them to us, begging for a few pieces of bread.”

These two… one reckless, the other sinister. It was a good thing that righteous knight-staff officers from the Staff Department like Dickinson and Ross weren’t present. Otherwise, upon hearing their remarks, they would have undoubtedly reported them to General Pierce.

“Taking this city is indeed as easy as turning over one’s hand. The key issue is the aftermath,” Vaughn explained patiently. “In the General Staff’s plan, Rielke will serve as an important military outpost for monitoring the Holy City, Goris. If we slaughter civilians and stir up widespread outrage… it will be very difficult for the administrative officials sent here later to establish a foothold, let alone gain the support of the natives.”

Although Alid was sparsely populated, the fierce and hardy nature of its people, forged by the harsh mountains and unforgiving lands, had always been an immense headache even for their own nobles.

Just as the three of them were locked in a tense discussion, Ivan, a staff officer with the army, hurried over.

“Sirs, have you not decided on a concrete battle plan yet?”

Dav had never been fond of these gentle and refined “schemers.” He grinned. “His Majesty didn’t give clear instructions on how to proceed, and your Staff Department hasn’t provided any viable suggestions. Aren’t we discussing it right now? What’s the rush…”

Ivan, however, paid it no mind and chuckled. “I’m here to give you an idea, am I not?”

“Oh?” Vaughn raised an eyebrow and pressed, “What idea? Do you already have a foolproof plan?”

“Well… of course. The Intelligence Section planted several secret agents in Rielke long before the army even set out, even before you began your operation against Goris. We have a pretty good understanding of the current situation in the city, and they’ve just sent out valuable information at great risk.”

The spirits of the three men lifted, and they asked in unison, “What information?”

Ivan pulled a piece of paper filled with decoded ciphertext from his pocket and held it up with a wry smile. “The Earl of Westwind has gathered a force of nearly five hundred Inquisitorial Knights from the Divine Punishment Faction. Together with the Archbishop of Rielke, he’s incited the entire population of the capital to resist the invaders from St. Valen to the death… Heh, as soon as the mobilization was announced, the city’s populace responded enthusiastically, with everyone actively pledging their fealty to the Church.”

Vaughn’s heart skipped a beat. He was stunned. “Then… then His Majesty’s plan to gather the populace and absorb the population… how can that be implemented? These stubborn die-hards will never surrender easily.”

Ivan casually took the match from Dav’s hand, set the intelligence note ablaze, and chuckled lightly. “It’s true the kingdom needs fresh labor, but compared to these mere few thousand people, we have far less time to waste on a bunch of obstinate fools and nobles.”

He paused, his expression instantly turning cold. “At a critical time like this, eliminating the remnants of the Holy See’s Divine Punishment Faction, quickly stabilizing the kingdom’s Western Realm, and taking Rielke as a new military base… are clearly more important.”

“Are you saying… the army should launch an indiscriminate attack on Rielke? How… how will we answer to His Majesty?”

Ivan reached up to adjust his cuff and said flatly, “His Majesty is, after all, a benevolent monarch who sees his people as his children, so the dirty work can only be done by us… The army need not bear the primary responsibility for this operation. You can all launch a call to surrender offensive against the Earl of Westwind and the people holding the city right now. Our people will take separate action inside the city.”

A bolt of lightning shot through Vaughn’s mind. He understood everything in an instant and roared in anger, “The Northern Army scorns playing the hypocrite in this battle! Since the General Staff has already decided on a plan of action, we will follow it!”

He took a deep breath and turned to Wayne and Dav to give his orders. “Inform the entire army to move out, enter the designated attack range, and prepare to assault the city!”

Chapter 636: The Siege

Leon Waters, the Earl of Westwind, walked into the Royal Palace courtyard with heavy steps. He beckoned to a nearby attendant and ordered in a low voice, “Pour me a drink… something strong.”

The distant chiming of church bells drifted over, startling the kingfishers resting on the courtyard’s grapevines into flight. Guards in full armor patrolled the corridors, casting a grim aura over the entire Rielke Royal Palace.

Taking the gold-inlaid goblet from the servant, the Earl of Westwind tilted his head back and drank it down in one impatient gulp. The invasion by the Valen people was imminent, and only the rich, potent wine could offer some small comfort to his agitated heart.

As he was staring blankly at the empty goblet, a knight from the Army of Judgment, clad in full steel plate armor and a pure white cape, hurried in from the courtyard. With one hand on his sword hilt, he frowned at the Earl of Westwind and said, “His Majesty the Grand Duke, why are you not at the church square with the Archbishop, encouraging the people and steadying their hearts? Why are you hiding in the Royal Court drinking instead?”

“Steadying their hearts?” The Earl of Westwind casually tossed the goblet aside and gave a bitter laugh. “The floating airships of the Valen people are circling above our heads at all times. We don’t know when their attacks will rain down from the sky… Your method of steadying their hearts is just to distribute the Sacred Elixir concocted by the Divine Punishment Faction to the believers, letting the entire city’s population march to their deaths with us in a haze of pious faith and drugged stupor.”

Chief Inquisitor Burns slammed the pommel of his longsword heavily onto the ground, his face flushed with anger. “The Sacred Elixir is meant to temporarily awaken the power of the bloodline in ordinary believers! That way, when they face the army of St. Valen, they can defend the city for us, fierce and without fear of death! Otherwise, how do you propose we defend Rielke City?”

The Earl of Westwind curled his lip, not intending to argue. He had once secretly ordered the Sacred Elixir to be tested on a few death row inmates. For several hours after the drug took effect, they were indeed fearless of pain and their strength was greatly increased. But once the effects wore off, the user would immediately fall into an irreversible state of weakness, dying a miserable death within a day, as if they had aged rapidly. No other medicine could save them.

The Divine Punishment Faction’s Sacred Elixir… it was nothing but a poison designed to take the enemy down with them!

“The Holy City was destroyed by the hands of St. Valen’s heretics. His Holiness the Pope and several bishops are missing, and Chief Inquisitor Felipe died a valiant death… Leon Waters, to lose your courage before the great battle has even begun—do you wish to betray the honor and power the gods have bestowed upon you?”

The Earl of Westwind waved a hand dismissively and rose unsteadily to his feet. “There’s no need to humiliate me with such taunts. Though the Holy City has fallen, the duty of House Waters to protect it remains. Once the Valen people begin their attack, I will lead the charge at the very front.”

Before Burns could respond, a City Guard knight entered the courtyard and reported loudly, “His Majesty the Grand Duke, My lord Chief Inquisitor! The army of St. Valen has appeared to the southeast of the capital, less than five kilometers away… Their dozens of magical airships are also approaching from the same direction and will reach the skies above the capital in as little as fifteen minutes.”

“Are there any large alchemical weapons among the enemy’s ground forces?”

The knight shook his head, looking a little uncertain, and answered honestly, “If you mean heavy magical weapons like the alchemical anti-magic crossbows, they don’t seem to have brought any. There are only about two thousand of them, and they are all carrying those long rifles that fire magical arrows.”

Burns was overjoyed. He turned to the Earl of Westwind and said excitedly, “Those heretics must have used up all their long-range magical bombs during the siege of the Holy City! That’s why they can only rely on magical airships and regular soldiers to attack Rielke now. We might have a chance to win!”

The Earl of Westwind’s spirits lifted. “What chance?” he pressed.

“Let their heretical soldiers into the capital. We’ll use our believers and soldiers, bolstered by the Sacred Elixir, to engage them in close-quarters combat… With the capital’s rugged terrain and narrow streets, the airships above won’t dare drop their bombs for fear of hitting their own troops.”

Using the flesh and blood of believers and soldiers, leveraging a numerical superiority of several times the enemy’s to bog them down in street fights… it did, in fact, seem like a decent plan.

The Earl of Westwind hesitated for only a few seconds before nodding in agreement. “It could work. But my Royal Knights will not be the first ones sent in.”

Burns smiled. “Don’t worry. There are plenty of pious believers willing to offer their lives for my Lord, who will vie to be the first to fight in the battle against heresy.”

…

By the time the two of them hurried to a watchtower on the city wall, the capital’s Defense Army was already fully armed and making final preparations for battle. Dozens of cauldrons of oil were already boiling over roaring fires, and piles of boulders and logs were stacked near the battlements. Believers moved back and forth on the stairs, methodically carrying bundles of arrows up to the wall.

According to believers who had luckily escaped from the eastern monastery of the Holy City to Rielke, the army of St. Valen had used a terrifying weapon called Heaven’s Wrath Thunderfire in the battle at Goris. It was a magical bomb that flew in from the distant horizon at incredible speed, its point of origin impossible to determine… Once it hit its target, it would trigger a violent explosion and shockwave, even more fearsome than the clustered casting of Elemental Mages.

In comparison, the magical airships were less frightening… If they flew too close to the ground, the alchemical anti-magic crossbows mounted on the city walls would pose a threat to their fragile hide Gasbags.

It was precisely because they had learned this crucial piece of intelligence that the members of the Divine Punishment Faction’s Army of Judgment who had fled to Rielke had made such thorough preparations. Not only did they urge the Earl of Westwind to reopen the hidden barracks built into the mountainside within the capital, but they also set up layers of defensive barricades in the city’s streets and alleys, and did their best to widen the city walls to move catapults and ballistae to the top for defense.

Rielke was already an isolated city built on a high mountain plateau, easy to defend, hard to attack. With such comprehensive preparations… and the topographical advantage of fighting from high ground, Burns believed they were not without a fighting chance.

“His Majesty the Grand Duke! My lord Chief Inquisitor! The enemy army has halted at the foot of the mountain and is holding its position… They, they don’t seem to have any intention of storming up the mountain path!”

The knight in charge of the lookout ran over to report to the two of them.

Burns froze for a moment, then snatched the spyglass and leaned over the battlements to look down into the distance… The St. Valen soldiers, dressed in dark black uniforms and wearing no armor, were lined up in neat square formations, showing no sign of advancing.

Hatefully, the enemy seemed to have an extremely precise grasp of distance. Their military formations were positioned just outside the range of the catapults and heavy crossbows, preventing Rielke, the defending side, from initiating an attack.

“What are they doing? Are they planning to lay siege… or are they waiting for the airships to attack first?” the Earl of Westwind asked, his expression anxious.

Burns said in a low voice, “Have all the soldiers and believers take shelter in the hidden barracks to avoid the bombing from the magical airships… No matter what, we must drag them into a protracted ground-level street fight.”

Before his voice had even faded, several sharp whistling sounds tore through the air from the distant horizon, like the shrill blast of a metal whistle…

Chapter 637: Precision Bombardment

The piercing whistle from the sky arrived in an instant, and the next second, a world-shattering explosion erupted beside them!

Boom—

A thick cloud of black smoke suddenly erupted from the wide battlement, and the violent explosion directly collapsed the arched watchtower, causing even the stone-faced wall to tremble erratically.

The Earl of Westwind was thrown to the ground by his guards, and by the time he staggered back to his feet, a cold sweat had already soaked the lining of his armor.

“The Valen people have Skyfire that can be used for sieges… How many of these terrifying things have they made?”

Burns also stumbled to his feet, one hand on the hilt of his sword, his expression grim. “Even if they have this up their sleeve, the fire is coming from the forest several kilometers away, flying at us like headless chickens. We just need to have the soldiers and believers hide in the hidden barracks. Once their ammunition is spent, we can lure their ground troops into the city!”

Before he could finish, another terrifying shriek came from the sky, and the city wall was once again the intended target… The battlements, built of cut stone, could not withstand the bombardment. A section of the wall, several dozen feet long, collapsed completely, like a chip breaking off the rim of a porcelain bowl.

“Fall back! Fall back! All soldiers are to abandon the wall and retreat into the city’s hidden barracks… Pass the order! We’ll counterattack only after the enemy enters the city!”

“Your Majesty, the enemy forces outside the city are starting to approach. Why don’t we try firing back with catapults and ballistae?”

Huddled within a human wall of his guards, the Earl of Westwind hurried down from the wall, shouting angrily, “No! Abandon the wall! Let them in… Staying here just makes us targets for that magical fire.”

Soon, under the shouts and direction of the royal knights, the once heavily-defended outer wall was cleared. Large numbers of soldiers, along with civilians and believers, retreated from the defensive line into the city, taking refuge in the dozens of hidden barracks built into the mountainside.

The Army of Judgment of the Divine Punishment Faction galloped through the narrow streets, using thick ropes to pull down wooden shacks and buildings, creating layers of barricades from the broken timber and rubble to block the enemy’s advance.

Because Rielke City was built on a clifftop plateau, the main city was divided into upper and lower sections by the difference in elevation. The hidden barracks were located on the relatively higher ground and had always been the kingdom’s main redoubt for storing weapons and grain and defending against foreign invaders.

It was precisely because of these hidden barracks—a war facility with a commanding high ground and a complex network of internal passageways—that Rielke City had always been considered a textbook example of a fortress that was easy to defend and hard to attack, known as the impregnable lone city of the mountains.

…

Boom—

The violent explosions continued to echo from overhead, but now, inside the hidden barracks, the Earl of Westwind felt considerably calmer.

No matter how powerful that fire was, it couldn’t blast through dozens of meters of solid rock to hit the defenders hidden inside… Not only that, but they had also stockpiled large quantities of rolling stones, battering logs—the same defenses as on the walls—at the entrances to the barracks. Fire oil, bows, and crossbows were all at the ready. Even if they had miscalculated the enemy’s supply of fire weapons, it only meant abandoning the outer wall earlier than planned, a wall they never intended to hold anyway.

The Divine Punishment Faction’s Sacred Elixir had already been distributed among the believers and soldiers. As soon as the heretics from St. Valen dared to enter the city, they could use the complex, narrow terrain to pick them off one by one… With their numerical advantage, Burns was confident that the frenzied soldiers and the fierce, death-defying believers, all bolstered by the Sacred Elixir, could completely overwhelm the enemy’s magical weapons.

Even Spellcasters could run out of mana and be swarmed by sheer numbers. The magical weapons in the hands of ordinary mortal soldiers would naturally have a moment when their ammunition ran out.

As long as their plan worked and they succeeded in annihilating this group of St. Valen heretics in Rielke City, then the exiled Holy See and its tens of thousands of followers, now being driven back toward the Holy City, would be heartened by the victory… Perhaps they could even use this opportunity to retake Goris and drive the enemy out of the Papal State for good!

“Your Majesty! The enemy has blasted open the gate! They’re pouring into the city!”

“Chief Inquisitor! The enemy has split into three columns and is advancing toward the upper city… They’re moving slowly, clearing barricades as they go.”

“Should we order the soldiers and believers to take the pills and charge them?”

Burns shook his head and gestured to the Earl of Westwind. “Don’t be hasty. Wait… Let them push up from the lower city. We’ll hit them head-on in the church square at the foot of the high slope!”

As he watched the enemy push closer and closer, their figures clearly visible through a spyglass as they moved through the streets, a faint sense of unease began to stir in the Earl of Westwind’s heart.

A St. Valen unit, the first to reach the church square, suddenly halted. Over five hundred men massed at the mouth of an alley at the far end of the square. They suddenly broke into dozens of small teams of two or three and began taking strange devices off their backs, then hunched over to work on them.

They appeared to be hollow cylinders, each as thick as a thigh, with a triangular metal frame at the tail end. A strange metal rod was attached to the middle of the cylinder’s body, which seemed to have several hollow rings of varying sizes stacked on it.

These heavy-looking, cast-metal objects had apparently been carried by these ordinary Valen soldiers the entire time. Now, they were hastily assembling them, a process that seemed to take only a few minutes… Even after they slotted a shield-like iron plate into the rear of the cylinders, neither the Earl of Westwind nor Chief Inquisitor Burns could figure out what the things were for.

But the question only lingered in their minds for a moment.

Soon, they saw a soldier drop a pointed metal canister into a cylinder, while another crouched and fiddled with the hollow rings on it… Then, the soldiers in all dozens of separate teams suddenly pulled a lever at the tail of the cylinder in unison. The muzzles instantly spat out a flash of orange fire mixed with black smoke.

Dozens of barely-visible black shapes suddenly shot up from below, smashing with pinpoint accuracy into the hidden barracks on the high slope. The thunderous explosions were identical to the Skyfire that had burst overhead earlier.

“How is this possible? What are those things they’re carrying? The alchemical instruments said to unleash the Skyfire attacks don’t look like this at all…”

Neither the Earl of Westwind nor Burns had ever seen St. Valen’s “fire weapons” with their own eyes, but based on the scattered descriptions from scouts and gathered civilians, they had pieced together a rough idea—they were mostly massive and heavy, like the Alchemical Exploration Society’s Dragon’s Flame projectors or anti-magic ballistae, requiring four-wheeled carriages to move and impossible for a person to operate easily.

But that these magical firearms, carried by individual soldiers, could unleash explosions as powerful as the Skyfire was simply unbelievable!

The second volley came less than half a minute after the first. Dozens more black shapes flew in, and dazzling fireballs erupted at the entrances of several hidden barracks. The searing shockwave, carrying black smoke, overturned catapults and ballistae, then ignited the battering logs and vats of oil… The acrid smoke choked the soldiers huddled nearby, forcing them to rush out blindly.

“We can’t wait! This type of fire is far more accurate than the long-range attacks! Every shot is aimed right at the barracks! If this keeps up… once the entrances collapse, we’ll be buried alive!”

Burns drew his longsword with a fierce swing, gritted his teeth, and ordered, “Have all soldiers and believers take the Sacred Elixir! We have the high ground—charge them!”

Chapter 638: Remnants of the Divine Punishment Faction

In less than a quarter of an hour, the Northern Army, arrayed at the mouth of the alley in the church square, fired hundreds of shells from their Portable Cannons, blanketing the hidden barracks on the plateau above in a rain of fire.

The defenders of Rielke had originally thought that by retreating to the high ground, they would have the cover of caves carved into the mountainside and could use their superior position to suppress the enemy with catapults and ballistae. They never imagined that the Valen people would wield such strange fire weapons, turning them into conspicuous targets.

The shells from the square below came without pause, and the roar of explosions near the hidden barracks was almost unceasing.

Several soldiers operating a catapult braved the artillery bombardment, struggling to turn the winch, only to be struck directly by a shell.

The violent explosion sent out a powerful shockwave that hurled the heavy catapult into the air. The resulting fireball engulfed dozens of nearby defenders. The logs (for defense), which had been tightly bound and stacked nearby, were also caught in the blast. A shower of splintered wooden spikes shot out in all directions, piercing the bodies of soldiers who had no time to dodge.

The round stones, each weighing over fifty kilograms, that had been placed on the catapults were instantly sent flying. They tumbled down, knocking over several vats of boiling oil before rolling into the dense crowd behind. In that moment, mortal flesh and blood seemed exceptionally fragile. Wherever the massive stones rolled, they left only a ghastly, crimson trail of mangled flesh. Many who were lucky enough to dodge the stones were then met with the flying fragments of the logs, clutching at wounds pierced by wooden spikes and screaming in agony as they awaited the arrival of death.

No one had the time to tend to the wounded who had instantly lost their ability to move.

A large number of soldiers and believers, originally driven out from the hidden barracks, were so terrified by the artillery bombardment that they retreated back into the caves before they could even take the Sacred Elixir distributed by the Divine Punishment Faction’s Army of Judgment. No matter how the Grand Duke’s knights cursed and berated them, they refused to regroup and charge the enemy again.

What had once been a high-ground advantage had now become a clear target for the enemy’s precise strikes. The entrances to the hidden barracks became a sea of fire. The Earl of Westwind instantly lost the courage to supervise the battle from the high platform and was ushered back into a cave by his guards.

But the fire from below did not stop. The whistling of shells paused for only half a minute before resounding across the battlefield once more. This time, the enemy seemed to have recalibrated their aim. Dozens of shells, like stones launched from a catapult, traced parabolic arcs and landed with pinpoint accuracy inside the hidden barracks.

In an instant, the bombarded caves were filled with billowing smoke and rising flames. The roar of explosions and a chorus of piercing screams rose and fell, creating a惨烈 scene akin to a fiery hell.

In the caves untouched by the bombardment, the civilians who had been herded inside were the first to break. Their faith was not as steadfast as that of the devout followers, and they had been forcibly conscripted by the Army of Judgment and the Grand Duke’s knights. Now, having lost all courage, someone led the way and they screamed, fleeing through the side passageways during a lull in the shelling. In the chaotic stampede, many were pushed off the high slope, tumbling down to the square below like barrels.

The Earl of Westwind was in a complete panic. He had considered that he might be defeated today, but he had never imagined a scene so utterly慘烈. The planned street fight had not even begun, the counterattack from the high ground had yet to launch, and his heavily fortified defensive line had simply collapsed.

He looked around in alarm and saw Chief Inquisitor Burns, his eyes bloodshot, striding toward him with a sword in hand, his head and face covered in blood.

“Forget those foolish, cowardly civilians!” the Chief Inquisitor roared, his voice hoarse as he pointed his sword downward. “I have already ordered the knights of the Army of Judgment and the devout followers to take the Sacred Elixir and charge with those fleeing the barracks! With them as human shields, the bloodline knights hidden behind will have a chance to get close to the enemy and engage them in close-quarters combat!”

“How many… how many troops do we have left?”

“Forget any plan to divide and conquer! Mobilize all the knights under your command, have them take the Sacred Elixir, and drive out all the conscripted civilians! We can’t waste any more time here!”

The Earl of Westwind fell silent for a moment, then gritted his teeth, his face contorting into a savage mask as he ordered the adjutant beside him, “Have the knights take the elixir! Abandon the horses! Hide behind the charging civilians and charge those heretics from St. Valen!”

…

Soon, the assembled knights and guards appeared in the church square, following the swarming civilians. After taking the Sacred Elixir distributed by the Divine Punishment Faction, the eyes of these once-weak soldiers and believers turned bloodshot red, the veins on their necks bulged, and the prominent blood vessels under their skin turned a terrifying dark purple. Driven by the elixir’s power, many even ripped off their shirts, letting out low, beast-like roars.

The Northern Army, gathered at the mouth of the square’s alley, seemed to have been prepared. They had already used rubble and sandbags to build a simple defensive line, and several strangely shaped alchemical wheeled vehicles had been pushed to the front, as if they had anticipated this reversal of roles between attacker and defender.

The Earl of Westwind and Burns, hanging back at the rear of the force, had no time to discern their opponent’s next move. At their behest, several knights from the Army of Judgment ran back and forth, giving the final order to charge.

“By the Light! Kill the enemy—”

Having lost the speed advantage of their horses, nearly a thousand knights from the Army of Judgment and the Grand Duke’s knights desperately pushed forward on foot. Many of the civilians forced to the front had not obeyed the order to take the elixir and were now crying out in terror, trying to retreat, only to run into the spears and blades of their own side. Their chests were pierced in an instant, and before their lifeless bodies could fall, they were propped up by the weapons and dragged forward.

In that moment, they became literal flesh-and-blood shields in the hands of the nobles.

Under the cover of the billowing smoke and rising flames, even charging on foot, they quickly halved the distance to the enemy. Through the surging crowd, they could already clearly see the St. Valen soldiers crouching behind crude cover a little over a hundred meters away.

As a divinely-gifted bloodline knight, Burns naturally did not need to take the Sacred Elixir to activate his potential. He kicked up a spear that someone had dropped, tucked it under his arm, held a longsword in one hand and the spear in the other, and roared to vent the frustration in his heart.

Suddenly—

He saw several black-clad St. Valen soldiers stand up and, with calm expressions, swing their arms forward. The front of the strange alchemical weapons that had been pushed to the fore immediately erupted in a blaze of crimson fire.

A continuous stream of fire, mixed with a crackling sound, sprayed directly toward his charging formation.

Plumes of blood suddenly burst from the bodies of the knights and soldiers at the very front. Before they could even make a sound, they fell in droves like wheat cut down by a scythe.

The sound of shattering armor and heavy bodies hitting the ground reached his ears. He glanced back in a panic…

The Earl of Westwind, who had been several steps behind him, now had several bloody holes blown open in his chest. He fell stiffly face-first to the ground.

Chapter 639: “Dirty Work”

The combat airship hovering in the sky slowly descended into Rielke City. The dozens of battle mages who emerged from the gondolas all wore disgruntled expressions. They had been the first to arrive over the battlefield, yet the Commander had ordered them to hold their fire, forcing them to hang in the sky and play the part of observers.

Vaughn led a group of officers into the city along the mountain path, their steps hurried as they made their way to the church square in the upper city, where the fighting had been fiercest. Looking up at the tall bell tower, he saw that the building, which represented the glory of the Holy See’s faith, had at some point had its spire shorn off by concentrated cannon fire. Only a few pillars remained, tottering on the verge of collapse amidst the flames and embers.

Although the airships hadn’t joined the battle, Rielke City, having been baptized by cannon fire, still couldn’t escape a fate of destruction. The lower city, which was originally outside the bombing range, had been deliberately torn to shambles by the city’s defenders and the Holy See’s knights. The broken walls and ruins from numerous collapsed buildings were all used to build barricades to block the streets.

The upper city, which had suffered the most damage, particularly the area around the hidden barracks built along the cliffs, had endured a dual baptism of fire from both long-range heavy cannons and Portable Cannons. Even though the impacts were relatively concentrated, the area was inevitably razed to the ground.

Against these natural cave bunkers, the medium-to-short-range strikes of the Portable Cannons were far more effective than the heavy cannons firing blindly from several kilometers away. With just a slight adjustment of the sighting scale, the pointed shells could spiral right into the caves, killing the enemies hiding inside from the sheer concussive force.

Moreover, the Portable Cannons had the advantage of being lighter and easy to assemble. They could accompany troops on a forced march without needing an alchemical vehicle to tow them. Their arcing trajectory also allowed them to fire over obstacles and hit targets behind cover, making them an essential weapon for urban street fights.

Following several technical improvements by the capital’s munitions factories, the clumsiest Magical-Powered Cannons in the original artillery arsenal had almost all been recalled and reforged. Only a few remained in service as city defense cannons in some cities in the south. Now, in the Northern Army’s external campaigns, they relied almost exclusively on two types of firepower: long-range heavy cannons and Portable Cannons. Depending on the battlefield situation, they would use either magically-infused solid shot or Dragon’s Flame bursting shells. By flexibly alternating between them, they could deliver a devastating blow to any enemy.

But on second thought, the cost in manpower and ammunition for capturing a mountain city like this—one with no resource benefits and purely strategic value—was staggering. Vaughn knew the exact cost of a single magically-infused shell. Even with the kingdom producing most of the raw materials domestically, it still cost nearly one hundred gold yuan to manufacture one. This meant that in the lightning siege, which had lasted a mere two hours, they had fired away nearly one hundred thousand in real gold and silver. Even if Starfire City’s gold yuan machines ran at full capacity, it would take half a day to print that much.

No wonder His Majesty repeatedly told them that warfare in the new era was a money-burning game of competing resources and finances.

Of course, the issue of the burning military budget was not his primary concern. Such headaches were for the General Staff and Logistics to hash out with Finance. As the Western Front Commander, his only mission was to capture cities for His Majesty and win every battle.

…

While inspecting the streets with his officers and staff, he discovered that on the main battlefield at the church square, the numerous corpses of the fallen had faces and skin of a strange purplish-red color. Even though they had long stopped breathing, their bulging blood vessels still spread across their bodies like a spiderweb. It was a truly chilling sight.

“Probably another poison agent cooked up by the Divine Punishment Faction, just like the Rotting Plague in the old capital. They treat the lives of innocent people as nothing more than cannon fodder to be expended.” The accompanying staff officer, Ivan, couldn’t help but curse aloud as he casually examined a few corpses with the help of a soldier.

Vaughn, however, had a thought and asked his adjutant, “How many civilians and captured soldiers managed to survive?”

The adjutant pulled a freshly delivered statistical report from his coat and stammered, “Over three thousand civilians survived. We’ve rounded them up and herded them into the hidden barracks to be guarded. As for the Church knights and the Earl of Westwind’s subordinates… there are fewer than five hundred prisoners. The vast majority of the rest were killed outright during the charge on the square.”

Wayne said in a low voice, “The soldiers found a lot of strange pills on the civilians. We think the Church distributed them. Anyone who took one during the battle would become incredibly strong for a short time, feel no pain, and charge us, fierce and unafraid of death. We only found out after interrogating a few prisoners. They call this stuff the ‘Sacred Elixir’.”

Vaughn nodded and ordered in a deep voice, “Give the confiscated pills to the military doctors. Minister Egnor will definitely be interested in this…”

The adjutant froze for a moment and muttered under his breath, “The military medical team just sent someone to ask… whether they should treat the wounded among the surrendered prisoners.”

Vaughn didn’t answer, simply striding ahead on his own. Wayne and Ivan, however, turned their heads with strange expressions and glared at the adjutant as if he were an idiot, frightening the honest fellow so much that he didn’t dare open his mouth again.

Many of the new recruits from Wangshan Prefecture, under the supervision of their veteran instructors, were doing the “dirty work” of clearing the battlefield—mechanically lifting the bayonets fixed to their rifles again and again, repeatedly stabbing every enemy corpse lying on the ground.

Dav, travel-worn, hurried over to join them and complained to his colleague with barely contained fury, “A few of the captured knights are minor nobles. They led us to identify the bodies of the Earl of Westwind and the Divine Punishment Faction’s Chief Inquisitor Burns, which had been riddled with machine-gun fire… Hmph, these bastards thought they’d get special treatment for surrendering willingly. They actually proposed paying a ransom and ceding their lands to buy their freedom.”

A military law officer coughed and reminded them with a wooden expression, “According to the kingdom’s laws, established by His Majesty, only nobles of our own kingdom have the right to pay a ransom to reduce their sentences, depending on the crimes they’ve committed. There are currently no corresponding laws or regulations for foreign nobles.”

The meaning of his words was obvious. It was all up to Vaughn, as the Commander, to decide on his own. There was no need to report it up the chain of command, and the Justice Department couldn’t be bothered with it either.

The staff officer, Ivan, gave Vaughn a meaningful look and said plainly, “Most of Rielke City’s populace are devout believers of the Church. The captured noble knights and soldiers from the Army of Judgment are absolute supporters of the Divine Punishment Faction. It’s highly likely they’re still hiding some of that so-called Sacred Elixir. If they’re incited to cause chaos, given that they already outnumber our forces, they could easily create significant trouble.”

Their unit wouldn’t be stationed in Rielke for long. They still needed to move on to southern Alid to mop up the fleeing remnants of the Holy See’s Divine Punishment Faction, while also dividing their forces to constantly monitor the nearly ten thousand Holy See “prisoners” in the Holy City. If they didn’t deal with the lingering problems here cleanly, it would probably be very difficult for the logistics and engineering corps to begin reconstruction when they arrived to take over.

Vaughn pondered for a moment, then turned to Wayne and instructed lightly, “There’s no need to bring those noble prisoners to see me. Herd them into the hidden barracks along with the civilian believers and guard them all together… Tell the medical team not to waste precious medical resources on the prisoners.”

This order didn’t seem to solve the problem Ivan had raised at all. But Wayne, who had always understood his commander, immediately grasped the meaning. He knew he had been chosen to clean up the mess. He let out a sinister chuckle and turned to leave with a brisk step.

…

When night fell, a squad of soldiers operating alchemical vehicles suddenly appeared outside the hidden barracks. Their wheeled vehicles were piled high with Demonic Lizardmen black water tanks, confiscated from the Holy City of Goris.

This stuff… it ignited on contact with fire and was extremely difficult to extinguish. It was a terrifying accelerant.

Chapter 640: The Emperor’s Tacit Approval

“Your Majesty, this is the battle report from Alid regarding the Western Realm. Please have a look…”

Harvey took the transcribed report from his personal guard and quickly scanned it. The contents mainly consisted of a report on the military operation against Rielke City and a post-battle debriefing.

As he had expected, there were no major surprises. The operation against Alid had proceeded very smoothly. The Northern Army had dispatched a force of only three battalions, supported by a one-hundred-man airship combat squad, and had easily conquered the neighboring kingdom’s capital in less than a day. To avoid hindering post-war reconstruction, they had not even resorted to aerial bombardment with high-explosive aerial bombs. Instead, they used a small amount of long-range artillery to breach the city gates, letting portable cannons and machine guns serve as the main force on the battlefield.

Even when they were finally forced into close-quarters street fights with the enemy, they met with almost no effective resistance. The Earl of Westwind and the remnants of the Divine Punishment Faction were completely powerless to fight back.

The entire report was written in a formal and meticulous style. Harvey could tell at a glance that the first half was written by Vaughn himself, while the second half was clearly supplemented with details by the accompanying staff officer. The contents, however, left him slightly surprised.

“Bring me those strange pills mentioned in the letter.”

The personal guard hurriedly presented a wooden box with both hands, placing it respectfully before Harvey. He lifted the lid with a fingertip and plucked out a dark, finger-sized pill.

A feeling of familiarity struck a chord within him, and he immediately ordered, “Summon Egnor, Minister of Health, to see me.”

After about half an hour, the exceptionally busy half-elf rushed to the Royal Palace and burst into Harvey’s office.

“Take these pills back and try to conduct a pharmacological analysis. The battle report from the front line mentioned that after a mortal ingests them… they can briefly stimulate the latent power of the bloodline within their body, granting them a great increase in strength and fearlessness toward pain. I want to know how the Divine Punishment Faction manufactured them, and what the specific formula is.”

Egnor carefully pinched one of the pills, brought it to his nose, and sniffed. After a moment of contemplation, he said, “Your Majesty, I can confirm right now that this is different from the Demons’ Blood-Awakening Elixir. At the very least, it contains no flesh or blood from any magical creature.”

“Could it be… that the Church catalyzed it using the properties of the New Life fragments they previously controlled?”

Harvey shook his head, finding it strange himself. “There is indeed a familiar mana fluctuation in the pills, but the fundamental principle of New Life is mending and growth. It doesn’t help with stimulating bloodline abilities, so I suspect the Divine Punishment Faction added other questionable magical materials.”

He paused, then patiently explained to Egnor, “The side effects of this pill’s current formulation appear to be extreme. But if we can successfully decipher and improve the formula, I believe it could be applied to the batch of rejects who previously underwent the bloodline awakening ritual but ultimately failed. We could try to reactivate the bloodline talents within their bodies… That way, the number of super-soldiers in the Special Operations Squad could directly double.”

Egnor’s spirits lifted. He quickly picked up the pillbox from the desk and bowed to Harvey. “Understood. I will immediately arrange for a potion research and development group to analyze the pill’s components!”

…

After Egnor’s departure, Astaren and Pierce walked into the office almost as if on schedule.

Harvey raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Tell me… what is your assessment of the decision Vaughn and the others made in Rielke City this time?”

“Is Your Majesty referring to… the order to burn the cave where the defeated were imprisoned, executing all the noble captives and Divine Punishment believers from Rielke City?” Pierce asked tentatively, a hint of unease in his expression.

“Don’t worry, I have no intention of holding anyone accountable. You two may speak your minds freely,” Harvey said with a shrug, gesturing for them to sit and talk.

Only then did Pierce breathe a sigh of relief. He explained with a candid attitude, “Although I did not directly issue this order, after receiving the report, I believe the decision made by Vaughn and the others was not wrong… The nobles and believers who have fully submitted to the Holy See’s Divine Punishment Faction must be completely annihilated with drastic measures. If any remnants are left, they will be like rats in the sewer, and we’ll never know when they might cause trouble for us.”

Harvey stroked his chin and teased, “Vaughn is truly a product of your training. His methods are just as direct and brutal… I originally thought Astaren would have instructed you to send those people to the Holy City to be mixed in with the followers of the Moderate Faction, to jointly carry out the Watchdog Plan…”

Astaren chuckled. “Your Majesty did indeed anticipate my previous intentions. The General Staff had originally planned to relocate all the remnants and believers of the Holy See in Rielke City to the Holy City… but I changed my mind after our undercover officers discovered the intelligence on the enhancement pills.”

This Enhancement Elixir, secretly controlled by the Divine Punishment Faction, may not have played its intended role in this battle… but if the pills were to spread in secret, even flowing into St. Valen without anyone knowing and falling into the hands of the radical Church remnants hiding throughout the kingdom, it would likely throw the local regions into chaos. The defenseless municipal officials painstakingly trained by the Department of State would have great difficulty resisting suicide attacks from users of the pill, who would be ready to perish together with the enemy.

Harvey nodded in agreement. “Indeed. I have already ordered the Health Department to begin analyzing the potion’s components, but we must not let our guard down. The intelligence departments in all regions need to be more vigilant than ever, keeping a close eye on any trace of this Enhancement Elixir.”

Pierce said in a low voice, “Your Majesty, does this mean… you truly don’t intend to punish Vaughn and the others for the crime of overstepping their authority?”

Over three thousand captives—they were perfect candidates for slave laborers… If this were the old Starfire City, which was desperately short on labor, and the City Hall learned that the army had dared to massacre so many who had surrendered, the officials in the Population Department would have torn them to shreds, even with the Emperor’s tacit approval.

“Using drastic measures when necessary is not unacceptable,” Harvey said, waving his hand dismissively. “It’s just that they handled it too hastily. They didn’t leave any live captives with intelligence value for interrogation. When they move on to mop up the Divine Punishment remnants in the surrounding areas, I’m afraid it won’t be as smooth as this.”

No matter how tightly the news was sealed, what the Northern Army did in Rielke City would eventually spread. The Northern Army’s stance of not accepting surrender and eradicating the Divine Punishment Faction from top to bottom would inevitably provoke even fiercer resistance from the scattered remnants.

Fortunately, Astaren was prepared for this. “Rest assured, Your Majesty. The General Staff and the Intelligence Section have already anticipated this situation. Secret police and intelligence agents have been deployed to neighboring countries in advance. In dealing with these radical Church remnants, we can also ensure the enemy is in the open while we are in the shadows.”

Harvey grunted in acknowledgment, putting this minor worry out of his mind.

“Inform Ashe that I intend to meet with the two Sea-folk delegations from the Southern Seas tomorrow afternoon.”

Chapter 641: Maritime Development Rights

Ashe brought Zaka and Epton to the Imperial Palace in the center of the capital in an alchemical wheeled vehicle. After the vehicle came to a stop, he held them back, preventing them from rushing out. “Let me repeat this one more time,” he reminded them patiently. “His Majesty has a gentle disposition and is approachable most of the time… but he particularly dislikes the style and airs of the southern nobles. When you see him later, you must not get bogged down in tedious etiquette. If you have a request, get straight to the point. Beating around the bush will likely displease him.”

Zaka pulled a silk handkerchief from his robes and, while wiping the sweat from his brow, nodded repeatedly. Finally, he couldn’t help but ask, “Aside from that, does His Majesty have any particular dislikes or preferences? How should we please him?”

Ashe scratched his head, looking blank for a moment before saying, “His Majesty comes from a Spellcaster background. I’m not at liberty to disclose his past, but it’s true that he likes strange and unusual things. He’s not as old-fashioned as a typical Spellcaster.”

Epton looked troubled. He took a coral jewelry box inlaid with gold thread from a satchel at his waist and said with a wry smile, “This was originally a gift for His Majesty. It’s the most dazzling aquamarine from the Coral Sea… far more priceless than the ones My lord Elliot refused. But His Majesty rules over an entire kingdom and doesn’t care for ordinary treasures. I doubt this will please him.”

Ashe pursed his lips and patted the other’s shoulder reassuringly. “His Majesty often says it’s the thought that counts. Besides, your gift is hardly cheap. The gesture is what matters. Before you go in to see him, just give it to the palace secretary.”

Only then did the two feel at ease. They followed Ashe into the “Imperial Palace,” a building that did not seem particularly grand or majestic, and whose interior decorations were far from luxurious.

As expected, they were subjected to two searches by the court’s personal guard in the main hall. A Personal Guard Leader, whose face looked as if it had been scorched by fire—twisted, ferocious, and exceptionally vicious—personally inspected their belongings. He even poked around Epton’s thick tentacles a few times, making him feel both awkward and uncomfortable.

“Alright, give me the gift box. You may now go in to see His Majesty.”

Zaka and Epton took a deep breath. They glanced at each other and saw the same uncontrollable nervousness reflected in their companion’s expression.

They followed the personal guard up to the second floor of the castle and watched as Ashe left them to enter a temporary reception room. Only then were they led into His Majesty the Emperor’s spacious and bright office study.

The room’s furnishings were similarly simple and neat, without excessive decoration. Beside a large, darkwood desk, a man who looked almost excessively young was putting down a document in his hands, looking up at the two with a small smile.

He wore a casual, beige-colored shirt. His shoulder-length, slightly curled black hair was tied loosely behind his head. He wore neither the majestic and magnificent crown they had imagined, nor any other ostentatious accessories. Only his pale gray eyes were exceptionally bright, sharp as if they could see right through a person’s heart at a glance.

This… this is the Emperor who single-handedly built the capital of the Northern Realm, swept through St. Valen, and intimidated the nations of the south?

But aside from a few strange, humanoid alchemical cybernetics standing against the wall, there was no one else in the room whose identity they could speculate on.

Didn’t Mr. Lambert say His Majesty was a high-level caster of unfathomable power? Why is he so young?

After a moment’s hesitation, the two straightened their robes and, in accordance with the traditional etiquette of the Sea-folk, bowed and knelt before him.

“Your revered Majesty, the diplomatic envoys of the Abyssal Sea-folk and the Coral Sea-folk greet you. May your kingdom be as vast and bountiful as the ocean.”

“Rise. There’s no need for such ceremony,” Harvey said with a light chuckle. “Welcome to Starfire City. I heard you arrived in the Northern Realm many days ago, after Dean Arturo invited you. I’ve been too busy with official duties to see you. Have you been acclimating to life here?”

He glanced at them casually, noticing that under the colorful silk robes of one of them were, just as Ashe had said, several thick, slick tentacles.

One with bulging eyes, one like an octopus… they don’t look like they have any genetic kinship with humans at all. I really don’t know how the evolution of species in this world works.

As he fought to suppress a smile, he heard the “bulging-eyed” one bow slightly and reply with a humble tone, “Thank you for your concern, Your Majesty. We have had a very pleasant time in the capital these past few days. My lord Lambert even hosted us personally. We are truly overwhelmed by the favor.”

Harvey hummed in acknowledgment, picked up another document, and said casually as he flipped through it, “Since you requested an audience with me, you must have come with a purpose. Tell me what it is.”

Epton immediately responded, “Your Majesty, in light of the new cooperative pact between your nation and our people, we would like to request to purchase some of your indestructible ironclad ships. If you could also include some of the magical weapons from the ships, we would be endlessly grateful!”

“Civilian ironclad ships? That’s not too difficult, but the magical weapons are a no. That is strictly forbidden by the kingdom’s laws. Besides… even if I agreed to sell you the ships, without the magical energy fuel to power them, you’d just be buying a hunk of iron to float on the water.”

Harvey paused, then patiently explained to the two men who stood frozen in place, “When our Navy visited the Coral Sea, you saw those military ironclad ships. You should know what makes them unique… Magical energy fuel cannot be delivered via teleportation array. To get the ships moving, the air transport costs for the fuel you would need to continuously pay would almost equal the value of the ships themselves.”

Zaka hesitated for only a moment before saying decisively, “No, Your Majesty… we can bear such high costs. Whether you dispatch those marvelous floating Airships to transport the fuel, or for the subsequent maintenance and upkeep of the ships, our people are willing to pay the full price!”

Before Harvey could speak again, Epton quickly added, “Indeed. If Your Majesty is not interested in real gold and silver coin, we can use precious sea gems and magical materials to settle the account.”

Their offer was generous enough, and their attitude sincere enough… Harvey nodded, and immediately revealed his true intentions.

“I can sell you five ironclad ships at most, of the civilian model. You won’t have to pay a single coin for the ships themselves, nor for the fuel and air transport costs for the first year.”

As he spoke, he raised a finger and pointed across the room to the huge map of the south hanging on the wall. “I require you to sign a deep cooperation agreement with me, one more formal and official than our previous friendly alliance… joint development rights to the Coral Sea.”

“Wh-what are joint development rights?”

“The stretch of sea between the Coral Holy City and the Ritual Sea, encompassing a two-hundred-and-fifty-kilometer radius. All resources—whether they be mineral deposits, materials, fish catches, or even other exploratory outputs of yet unknown use—will be shared. I will dispatch the Kingdom’s Navy to rent a natural deep-water port in your Coral City, build a garrisoned port there at our own expense, and jointly develop the surrounding sea with both of your races. All proceeds will be split fifty-fifty, with each side taking what it requires.”

Chapter 642: Oceanic Prospecting

In this era, the concept of sovereignty over non-terrestrial national borders like territorial waters did not exist. The royalty and nobility of secular kingdoms rarely considered isolated islands and reefs at sea as part of their domains. Only crucial maritime trade routes were deemed important enough to be garrisoned with troops.

The vast, boundless seas of the south were, by the tacit agreement of the nations, an open domain where everyone enjoyed the right of free passage… as long as one was wary of pirates and violent storms.

The Millennial Pact, signed by the various races of the south after the War of the Dragons, had clearly stipulated that all oceans beyond the land belonged to the Sea-folk, allowing them to thrive on the islands and reefs and obtain their necessities from the bountiful sea.

Therefore, to the Sea-folk, the ocean had no borders or concept of territory… any place their coral shuttle-boats could reach could be considered their own domain.

In the Coral Sea, where their population was most concentrated, the so-called deep-sea mineral deposits and migratory fish shoals had long since been gradually depleted by nearly a thousand years of continuous mining and fishing. Otherwise, they would not have used the pretext of their traditional God-Worshipping Ceremony to send their priests and warriors into the sea abyss to retrieve the Holy Stone, using its properties to lure fish to migrate there.

“Your Majesty, if I may be so bold… the area from the Coral Holy City to the Ritual Sea, whether it’s crystallized coral or aquamarine, has long been completely harvested by our people. Fishing is not a very profitable business either. Apart from a few archipelagos near the Holy City that do have natural deep-water harbors, I don’t believe there is anything else worthy of your investment.”

Zaka and Epton saw that the Emperor’s attitude was not condescending. Instead, he was like a highly credible merchant, patiently discussing cooperation with them and being forthcoming about the procurement of the ironclad ships and subsequent investments. They felt nothing short of overwhelmed by a favor.

Faced with the Emperor’s fantastical idea of “pioneering the distant seas,” they were unwilling to see him invest heavily only to suffer a total loss. They quickly and candidly shared what they knew, trying to get Harvey to abandon this somewhat Garrisone idea.

“Even for the spellcasting materials most sought after in the world of magic, the Coral Sea has produced almost none in recent years. To capture demonic beasts from the sea or gather magic herbs that grow in the deep, even we have to travel far to the edge of the Abyssal Sea-folk’s territory and risk the most violent storms of the outer sea.”

Epton, with a graceful air, tidied the hem of his robe, carefully covering his thick, long, and slick tentacles. He bowed to Harvey and proposed, “Of course… if Your Majesty wishes to train a large number of elemental casters, you will indeed need a great deal of spellcasting materials and magic herbs from the deep sea. But there is no need to travel all the way to the southern seas to build a port and garrison troops. Our two peoples still have brave warriors at Your Majesty’s disposal. If… if we could win Your Majesty’s favor, we would be willing to offer a portion of rare materials to the kingdom each year as payment for the fuel for the ironclad ships.”

This octopus-man is quite the “proper” gentleman, who understands the art of exchange and possesses considerable political skill…

Harvey chuckled inwardly and slowly shook his head. “To be honest, those so-called demonic beasts and materials are not my primary goal; they’re an incidental gain at best. What I’m truly interested in… are the ancient ruins hidden in the deep sea.”

He paused, then emphasized, “But rest assured, I will absolutely not desecrate the sacred ritual grounds of the Sea-folk. My activities will be limited to exploration… and I will certainly follow your experience and advice, and will do nothing to damage the friendly relations between us.”

As for building a naval port, one reason was, of course, to protect and assist in the oceanic prospecting. Another was to mediate the internal conflicts between the Coral and Abyssal Sea-folk, using military deterrence to preemptively pacify the myriad of large and small tribes living on the thousands of islands and reefs, acting as an “armed peacemaker.”

When faced with invasions from schooling sea beasts like the one before, the Navy could even help them repel and clear them out. Compared to having his people risk their lives against those ferocious demonic sea beasts in shuttle-boats made of hollowed coral… His Majesty the Emperor was truly both generous and benevolent.

Of course, all of this was predicated on the fact that these simple-minded and militarily weak Sea-folk had no understanding of hegemonic concepts like “colonies” and “overseas garrisons.” Otherwise, they would have turned hostile the moment Harvey proposed it.

Tempted by such generous terms, Zaka and Epton felt as if they were in a dream. This audience and plea had not only secured them five free ironclad ships from the Emperor, but they also didn’t have to worry about future fuel airlifts or maintenance. They had even inexplicably hired a group of fully armed “bodyguards” to be stationed nearby.

They had witnessed the strength and weaponry of the Northern Realm Navy firsthand. With them garrisoned in the Coral Holy City, at least the several hundred large and small tribes in the vicinity would no longer have to worry about sea beast attacks or pirate harassment.

“The Coral Sea-folk and the Abyssal Sea-folk thank Your Majesty for your generosity and benevolence… We are willing to sign a pact with the kingdom to jointly explore and develop the surrounding seas.”

Seeing the two finally relent, Harvey smiled in satisfaction and said warmly, “Very good… In that case, I will have my ministers discuss the specific details and relevant clauses of the pact with you later. There is no need to rush… Spend some more time in Starfire City and enjoy the sights of the Northern Realm, which are so different from the sea.”

Zaka and Epton quickly bowed in thanks. After a moment of deliberation, they asked cautiously, “Your Majesty, then… the ironclad ships, when can we…”

Harvey smiled as if suddenly remembering. “Oh, very soon… If you are truly that impatient, there are plenty of old ships in Three-Forks Town for you to choose from. But I personally suggest you be more patient and wait for the new civilian models from the Kingdom Shipbuilding Center in Grizzly Keep. They are not only faster but also more economical in their magical energy fuel consumption.”

“We are willing to wait for the new ships!” Zaka and Epton replied in unison.

With the cooperation settled, Harvey casually asked about some peculiar anecdotes from the southern seas, then gestured for the two of them to withdraw.

As Epton reached the study door, he seemed unable to contain his curiosity any longer. He turned back and said, “Your… Your Majesty, please forgive my impudence… I am just truly curious as to what precious things exist in those ancient ruins of the deep sea that have captured your attention even from the Northern Realm, so much so that you would not hesitate to send an army so far just to investigate.”

Those undersea ruins were often inhabited or occupied by extremely powerful sea beasts. The turbulent storms and the broken walls and ruins beneath the waves also made it extremely easy for ships to run aground and sink. Merchant fleets went out of their way to avoid them, and even pirates were unwilling to hide there.

Harvey chuckled softly and said lightly, “Haven’t there always been rumors of treasure in many of the undersea ruins? Exploring ancient sites and archaeological digs… is just a personal interest of mine, a peculiar hobby, you could say.”

Chapter 643: The New Recruits Arrive

The train rumbled to a stop before the platform of The Central Station, and a plume of thick white steam hissed from the top of the massive metal locomotive.

The soldiers formed a long line and, under the loud shouts of their officer, orderly disembarked with their military rucksacks. They automatically fell into formation on the platform, but their heads turned uncontrollably, eyes wide as they took in the prosperous scenery of the Northern Realm’s capital.

This was a unit of new recruits transferred to Starfire City from Wangshan Prefecture on the western front. For the vast majority of them, it was their first time setting foot in this magical land known as the heart of the kingdom, and it was hard for them not to be completely captivated by all the novelties around them.

Bale and Sai Ke, two of The Rootless People from Fengyuan City, were also among the arriving recruits. Clutching the straps of their rucksacks tightly, they craned their necks to look around with excited expressions. The sheer scale of the capital’s Central Station was beyond their imagination, and the towering outer city wall under construction not far away was so massive they couldn’t see its end.

On the way, they had listened to a veteran ensign from Jackdaw Town, who had already bought a house and settled down in the capital. He told them that the capital used to only have an inner wall. It was only due to the astonishing influx of people in recent years that the Department of State, with His Majesty’s approval, had tasked the Construction Department with expanding the city’s borders and officially bringing more land under the protection of the walls.

The once densely populated temporary settlement areas, which had been nothing more than shantytowns hastily built with clay bricks and wooden beams, had now been completely torn down and rebuilt into neat and beautiful rows of cement and stone houses. Furthermore, they were expanded every six months, and no one knew just how many new immigrants this area could accommodate.

Due to the large number of new recruits, the Military Command temporarily couldn’t dispatch enough wheeled vehicles to transport them. So, at the sound of an officer’s whistle, the men formed two neat columns and marched out of the station, heading towards the capital’s Military Barracks located north of the outer city.

“They’ve transferred us from the west to the Northern Realm this time. Besides the special training to become a permanent employee, they’re probably going to send us to the front lines further north to fight those non-human race monsters, right?” Sai Ke asked Bale, who was beside him, in a low voice.

A new recruit from Grizzly Keep walking in front of them turned his head and teased, “Dream on. With our combat strength, what chance do we have to go head-to-head with the Demonic Lizardmen? I reckon after the special training, we’ll still have to do a rotation in the Garrison Regiment… doing easy jobs like operating farming machinery and digging irrigation ditches every day.”

Although they had only undergone a little over a month of new recruit training in Wangshan Prefecture after being conscripted and were then temporarily assigned to Rielke City, the capital of Alid, to serve as logistics personnel clearing the battlefield… they had, in any case, seen bloodshed and faced the cruelty of war as professional soldiers. While they were far from the old veterans in terms of combat experience, they couldn’t help but feel a sense of aspiration and desire for the path that lay ahead.

Sai Ke pouted with a bit of disappointment and turned to the silent Bale. “They’re not really going to make us farm, are they? If that’s the case… who knows when we’ll be able to avenge our clansmen who died so unjustly.”

Bale sighed. He knew this was a constant weight on Sai Ke’s heart. The near-annihilation of the Silver Moon Tribe at the hands of the Demonic Lizardmen was a tragedy, and the fires of vengeance in the surviving clansmen could not be extinguished so quickly.

“What’s the rush? We’ll have our chance to face them on the battlefield eventually. If we don’t seize every opportunity now to improve our own strength, won’t we just lose both our lives and our dignity when we finally fight them face-to-face?”

The veteran ensign leading their squad came up from behind, happening to overhear the raw recruits’ conversation. He let out a loud laugh, interrupting their chat.

Sai Ke’s eyes lit up. He sidled up to the ensign and cautiously pressed, “Sir, what exactly will our special training consist of, now that we’re back in the capital? Target practice… or live combat drills?”

The veteran shot him an annoyed glare and scolded, “Have you forgotten the confidentiality regulations in the soldier’s code again? Don’t ask what you’re not supposed to ask. Just obey orders unconditionally!”

Seeing that the ensign’s tone wasn’t overly harsh, Bale quickly tried to smooth things over. “Sir, I heard that our salaries will increase after we become permanent employees. That… that isn’t confidential information, is it?”

The ensign chuckled and explained patiently, “Of course. Once you transition from a new recruit to a permanent soldier, your salary will almost double, and all the corresponding benefits will follow. The outstanding ones can even stay in the capital and be selected for an Ace Battle Group… It won’t be long before you can save up enough for a down payment and be eligible to buy your own property in the capital.”

The surrounding new recruits were suddenly intrigued, asking in urgent, unified voices, “What does it take to be considered outstanding? How do we get selected for an Ace Battle Group?”

The ensign smiled mysteriously, a mischievous glint in his eye. He said slowly, “Not only will your scores in target shooting and weighted cross-country be assessed, but you must also pass the academic classes. At the very least, you have to be able to independently write marching logs and battle report summaries. After all, His Majesty himself once said… every soldier should be trained as a prospective officer. A soldier who doesn’t want to be a general is not a good soldier!”

The men were all stunned for a moment before they couldn’t help but let out low groans of despair. Compared to the formation drills at the new recruit camp in Wangshan Prefecture, the nightly literacy and academic classes were their real nightmare.

For these soldiers, whose families had been commoners for generations, the path of learning from scratch was nearly impossible to handle.

…

The leisurely march along the road, free of any immediate duties, stripped the new recruit Battalion of much of its stern, unapproachable aura. As they passed a plaza in the outer city, a group of academy youths in deep red uniforms even gathered around, waving stacks of newspapers and enthusiastically trying to sell them.

“Mr. Officer, would you like a copy of this week’s newspaper? Only half a gold yuan! It’s got the latest battle reports from the kingdom’s Western Theater Command, the glorious deeds of the valiant Northern Army conquering the neighboring country of Alid in a single day!”

The half-gold yuan, a brand-new denomination of currency, had only recently begun to be issued in the capital. It eschewed printed paper, instead being made from a special metal die-casting process.

But for new recruits with a monthly salary of only sixty gold yuan, it was still a painfully high expense. Besides, most of them had barely scraped by with a passing grade on their literacy exams and still had some difficulty reading fluently. Just looking at the dense small print on the newspaper made their heads ache.

“No… no thank you. We’re on our way to the Military Barracks. Please don’t disturb the marching order.”

After the students had dispersed, Bale leaned closer to the ensign’s ear and said, his face flushing with a bit of shame, “Those… those youths from the capital, have they all passed the literacy course like us? They seem to be able to read and write very fluently.”

The ensign glared at them, disappointed in them for not living up to expectations, and grumbled, “Of course they have. My own son is in the junior class of the National Academy. These youths are far more educated than you lot. Once they graduate… most of them will be snapped up by the various administrative departments and technical factories in the capital. They won’t have to worry about finding work at all!”

Chapter 644: A Strange Recruitment Order

The new recruits from Wangshan Prefecture had just arrived at the military barracks in the capital. Before they could even regroup and be assigned to their dorms, they saw a group of young officers striding toward them, a stack of files tucked under their arms. They wore the same ink-black uniforms, but with silver-gray embroidery on their collars and cuffs.

“A bunch of ‘foxes’ from the Staff Department…” the ensign leading the group grunted. He seemed to have a dislike for these young officers, who mostly came from urban middle-class or noble families. He shouted at the new recruits, “All of you, quiet down! Don’t disgrace the Western Theater Command!”

He then quickly went to meet them, raising his hand in a military salute before asking in a low voice, “Sirs, are you here to inspect the new recruit deployment?”

The lead officer shook his head, not intending to explain much. He simply pulled out the files from under his arm and said in an icy tone, “What does recruit deployment have to do with us? We’re here on orders from the Ministry of Defense to select special troops…”

“Special troop selection?” the ensign muttered, a look of confusion on his face. “The recruits have only just gone through less than two months of basic training. They haven’t even had their final assessment yet…”

“You don’t need to worry about that. You just need to obey orders and cooperate fully.”

Seeing the other party’s firm attitude, and that their rank and position were clearly several levels higher, the ensign dared not ask any more questions. He meekly retreated to the side and fell silent.

Special troop recruitment was not unheard of, but it had always been restricted to Spellcasters and Bloodline Warriors with their unique statuses. The only opportunity open to commoners… was likely the bloodline transformation ritual of the Northern Army, which every soldier desperately coveted, but its requirements were incredibly strict.

Why were they suddenly selecting from a bunch of raw recruits today? No matter how he thought about it, it seemed unconventional.

The staff officer, however, paid no mind to what anyone was thinking. He picked up a brass alchemical loudspeaker and began his recruitment briefing—

“All soldiers, listen up! This special recruitment is voluntary. Once you pass the three rounds of assessment, you will not be allowed to withdraw. Furthermore, you must adhere to absolute confidentiality regulations throughout the entire process!”

He cleared his throat and continued, “Soldiers who pass the assessment will be sent to the ice sea front to carry out combat missions on the most dangerous battlefields with the highest enemy concentrations. Therefore, the Ministry of Defense will not be conducting a mandatory draft. If anyone does not wish to participate… you can follow your ensign and leave now to get settled in the new recruit dormitories.”

For this group of grassroots soldiers from commoner backgrounds, the army’s benefits were far superior to working in a factory or on a farm. Whether joining the Defense Force or the Northern Army, as long as they successfully passed their assessment to become permanent soldiers… their future was basically secured. All food, clothing, and expenses were covered by the state, and their military pay could be saved up without spending a single coin. The most incredible part was that the medical benefits a soldier enjoyed even extended to their family members, and their children would receive priority for school enrollment.

Aside from the possibility of dying heroically on the battlefield, it could almost be called the most coveted job for men in the country!

And so what if they never returned? If they died on the battlefield, not only would someone be specially assigned to collect their bodies and send them back to be properly buried in the martyrs’ cemeteries across the kingdom, but the government would also issue a pension so generous it would ensure their family and descendants could live comfortably for the rest of their lives. Their own names and records would be inscribed on a monument, and during special holidays and celebrations… even His Majesty the Emperor himself would come to pay his respects, leading the people in a silent moment of mourning while holding white frostflowers.

This was a supreme honor that most commoners could never hope to achieve in their lifetime!

Thus, young soldiers like Bale and Sai Ke immediately grew excited. They all turned to look at the new recruit from Grizzly Keep, with whom they were on good terms.

The latter clearly hesitated for a moment before giving a wry smile to his two comrades. “Compared to going to the ice sea front, I’d rather be selected for the capital’s Defense Force… Don’t laugh at me. When I enlisted, my wife was already pregnant.”

Bale and Sai Ke exchanged a look, nodded with expressions of understanding, and said, “We’ve decided to sign up!”

…

After the clamorous registration period ended, the new recruits who had voluntarily withdrawn were led away from the playing field. Bale, Sai Ke, and the others were called by name one by one to write their shaky signatures in the registration book. Afterward, they formed neat lines and followed the staff officer to an inconspicuous courtyard in a corner of the barracks.

The capital’s military barracks already occupied a large area, enclosed by barbed wire and wooden fences that made it impossible for outsiders to enter and exit freely. But the courtyard they were in now had an additional concrete wall nearly two meters high, and there were no nearby buildings from which one could peer down, making it seem very mysterious.

Nearly half of the more than five hundred new recruits had signed up, a ratio that brought a satisfied expression to the face of the officer in charge.

“Next, we will begin the first round of assessment. Everyone line up and enter the room when your name is called. There will be personnel inside to guide you… You must remain silent the entire time. Understood?”

“Understood!” everyone responded in unison.

When it was Bale and Sai Ke’s turn to go in, they realized with a start that what was happening in the room was just a simple physical examination. The soldiers were required to strip down to their shorts and undershirts and stand next to a measuring rod while several staff members busily measured their height, weight, vision, and arm span.

“Soldier Bale, height 178, weight… arm span… Pass!”

“Soldier Sai Ke, height 177, weight… Pass!”

“Soldier Jone, height 169, weight… Fail!”

“Soldier Karim, height 183, weight… Fail!”

Thump—

The officer in charge of registration forcefully stamped a red mark on his information sheet.

Only then did Sai Ke understand that being too tall or too short would result in failing the assessment, and the same applied to weight and arm span. It seemed as if these officers in charge of the assessment were selecting for the Imperial Palace honor guard, repeatedly filtering candidates according to a fixed set of standard values.

When the two of them came out of the room holding their uniforms and military boots, they found that more than half of their comrades who had been standing in the courtyard were gone. The new recruits who had been deemed unqualified had already left in an orderly fashion aboard alchemical wheeled vehicles.

The first round of assessment alone had screened out nearly half of the applicants, leaving just barely a hundred men.

The lead staff officer seemed to have expected this, as his expression didn’t sour. He quickly ordered the soldiers to get dressed again and line up next to a row of enclosed rooms built against the courtyard wall. These rooms looked even smaller than the barracks washrooms. Aside from their tightly shut doors, they didn’t even have windows and were clearly built specifically for assessment purposes.

“Each soldier participating in the second round of assessment must enter one of these rooms alone and endure for at least five minutes. If you can’t take it… you can pull the lever inside the room to open the door and leave, but that will be considered a voluntary withdrawal.”

“There isn’t a Bloodline Warrior standing in each room, is there?” Sai Ke whispered cautiously in Bale’s ear. “Otherwise, what could be in a sealed room like this that would be so unbearable?”

Sure enough, less than half a minute after the first batch of new recruits went inside, a series of shrill screams came from behind the heavy doors. However, there were no additional sounds of fighting, which immediately made the faces of those waiting outside turn grim.

“So they’re not being beaten by a Bloodline Warrior? Could there be a Spellcaster in there freezing and roasting them?”

As soon as these words were spoken, the faces of the others instantly grew even paler.

Chapter 645: Fear Resistance Test

As expected, the second round of the assessment lasted less than two minutes before the first wave of eliminations occurred.

The doors of more than ten rooms opened one after another, and a team of staff dressed in laboratory robes entered. They dragged the ceaselessly screaming new recruits out… These unlucky souls were pale and blue, their faces smeared with snot and tears. Their steps were so unsteady they couldn’t walk on their own; they could barely stand even with two people supporting them.

They were each quickly made to drink a potion and then helped to a shaded canopy on the other side to rest and recover.

Sai Ke did a rough count and felt his heart tighten. In a long row of twenty rooms, nearly half the people had failed to last even five short minutes. The elimination rate was as high as fifty percent… Wouldn’t that mean even fewer would be selected in the end?

He subconsciously turned to look at Bale and saw that his face wasn’t looking too good either.

But the two of them no longer had time to figure out why… The officer in charge of calling names, holding a roster, called out both of their names at once.

“Bale! Sai Ke…”

“Here!” the second batch of new recruits for the assessment answered in unison, forcing their weak legs to carry them into the rooms.

With a bang, the heavy door was shut from the outside. Sai Ke stood in place, squinting for a moment to let his eyes adjust. Using the faint light seeping through the crack in the door, he began to survey his pitch-black surroundings. The room seemed small at first glance but was actually a long, narrow structure that extended deep inside. Without any light, it was impossible to see the far end.

There was no other furniture in the room. Sai Ke ran his hand along the wall and finally found the mechanical lever that signified giving up. A firm pull downwards… and the locked door would open.

Sai Ke felt he was fully prepared. No matter if a muscular Bloodline Warrior or a mysterious Mage in a black robe burst out from the unseen part of the room, he was determined to grit his teeth and endure… He would definitely last until the five-minute assessment was over.

Just as he was gritting his teeth, clenching his fists, and pressing his back tightly against the door, a middle-aged man’s deep voice suddenly sounded from above… This dark room was actually fitted with alchemical loudspeakers?

“Soldiers participating in the assessment, please strictly follow my instructions and complete the designated tasks. Your every move is being monitored… Now, all of you, take five steps forward.”

Sai Ke obediently stepped forward, but amidst the static from the alchemical loudspeakers, he suddenly caught another strange sound… It seemed to be the dragging of a heavy iron chain on a concrete floor.

“In front of each of you is a chair. Please find it and be seated immediately… For the next five minutes, no matter what happens, you are not to get up from the chair, unless you decide to give up.”

Sai Ke leaned forward slightly, and as he reached out his hands, he indeed felt a wooden-backed chair. He immediately sat down, straightening his back.

“The assessment begins!”

The magical energy lamp overhead suddenly flickered on, casting a dim, yellow light. Sai Ke squinted for a few seconds to adjust and immediately noticed that the wall directly opposite him was actually a movable panel. Metal hinges in the corner were slowly turning… The sound of the chain he had heard earlier came from there.

What was inside?

Before Sai Ke could relax his somewhat stiff body, the movable panel suddenly rose faster, and a giant bear, so enormous it nearly filled the entire room, roared and charged out. In an instant, it was about to pounce on him.

ROOOOAR—!

Its gaping maw, large enough to swallow half his body, was right before his eyes. When Sai Ke came to his senses, he felt as if something was lodged in his throat; for some reason, he couldn’t even scream for help. The fear and despair from the depths of his Soul seemed to materialize at that moment. A chill shot up his spine to his head, making his scalp tingle.

At the same time, the thud of something heavy hitting the floor came from the adjacent rooms on both sides. Even through the brick walls, the terrified screams of his comrades pierced his ears like needles. The lever mechanism on the wall rattled… Someone had fled their seat to the door and frantically pulled the mechanism to open it.

Sai Ke remained seated… but cold sweat had completely soaked his clothes, and his hands, gripping the armrests, had turned white from the excessive force.

The giant bear kept roaring and lunging at him, but its body seemed to be held fast by an invisible chain. No matter how it struggled, it couldn’t cross the final, almost face-to-face distance to actually tear the human soldier before it to shreds.

That invisible chain became Sai Ke’s last hope. The creak of the metal being forcefully pulled taut was exceptionally eerie.

But for some reason, in this extreme fear, Sai Ke didn’t choose to close his eyes and resign himself to fate… A subconscious part of his mind seemed to be telling him that the terrifying beast, stopped less than half a meter in front of him, would absolutely not harm him. Neither the Military Command nor the government would casually harm a soldier’s life.

And so he sat there, body stiff, eyes wide, staring blankly at the giant bear that was constantly roaring at him with its mouth wide open. The faces of his tribe’s relatives, all of whom had died horribly at the hands of the Demonic Lizardmen, flashed through his mind. He forcefully endured the five minutes that felt like a lifetime.

As the officer’s voice came from the alchemical loudspeakers overhead again, the mechanism of the movable panel turned once more, and the giant bear was slowly dragged back inside.

“The assessment is over. You may all rise… Congratulations on passing the second round of testing.”

Sai Ke slowly stood up, finding his legs as heavy as lead. He braced himself against the wall as he shuffled to the lever by the door and, mustering his remaining strength, pulled the mechanism.

The room’s door swung open with a clatter, and blinding sunlight poured in. Sai Ke finally let out a long sigh of relief, feeling as if he had been given a New Life.

Bale’s room was a few doors down from his, but he walked out at almost the same time… It seemed he had also passed the assessment successfully.

A pale and bluish complexion, cold sweat soaking the front and back of his dark uniform, and the same leaden, unsteady steps… Their experiences in their respective dark rooms appeared to have been identical.

As before, they were made to drink a sweet-tasting calming potion and were helped by the staff to the shaded canopy to rest for a while. There were still about two or three more waves of new recruits waiting for their turn to be tested.

“That monster was fake…” Bale looked around, and seeing that no one was paying attention to them, he carefully leaned in to whisper in Sai Ke’s ear. “I was scared stupid at first. It wasn’t until the last moment that I came to my senses and realized the problem.”

He paused, then pointed to his own nose. “Did you notice? Such a ferocious demonic beast, locked in a room alone with us, yet it didn’t have even a hint of a beast’s foul, gamey smell. That’s almost impossible… Even if it were raised in captivity and regularly cleaned by someone, there’s no way it wouldn’t have any lingering smell from its food and waste.”

Sai Ke froze at his words, and then it all dawned on him… Damn it! He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed such an obvious clue. It was a waste of the decades of careful nurturing and hunting training from his father, who had died protecting their tribe.

He clenched his fists and muttered dejectedly, “I… I didn’t notice.”

Bale patted him on the shoulder and comforted him in a warm voice, “At least we made it through. We didn’t piss our pants and give up halfway, and we didn’t bring shame to our tribe.”

They just didn’t know what kind of horrifying and strange trial awaited them in the final round of testing.

Chapter 646: Dream Hunt

By the time the final round of the assessment began, Sai Ke and Bale suddenly realized… that their group of new recruits from Wangshan Prefecture was being personally supervised by two of the kingdom’s most prominent figures.

“Minister Chris, Minister Egnor…” The staff officer shed his icy expression, putting on a smile to welcome the two men into the courtyard. “The new recruits who arrived in the capital today have already completed the first two rounds of basic assessment.”

Chris grunted in acknowledgment, his eyes sweeping the area as he casually asked, “What’s the pass rate? How are they performing?”

“Two hundred and forty registered, fifty have passed. The elimination… the elimination rate is close to eighty percent,” the staff officer reported with some embarrassment, gesturing toward the soldiers who were still瘫 sitting under the sunshade, their limbs weak. “Please don’t worry, more recruits will be arriving from all over the kingdom. We will select enough people as quickly as possible.”

Egnor shook his head with a hint of resignation, seeming to hold little hope for the final test. “Forget it. It’s already quite impressive that they’ve made it to the second round. We’ll handle the final test ourselves.”

The new recruits were then quickly led into the largest building in the courtyard. The moment he stepped inside, Bale knew something was wrong—the vast room also had no windows, but the air was thick with a strange, cloying mixture of excrement and the stench of wild beasts.

Before them were over ten huge iron enclosures, veiled by thick, waterproof tarps. However, the low, guttural breathing that could be faintly heard from within proved… that these cages held real, ferocious beasts!

Chris and Egnor stopped in the middle of the room. Taking the roster from an adjutant, they announced impassively, “The rule for the final test is that each of you must select one untamed Demonic beast. You must successfully suppress the target in a mental confrontation and hold out for half an hour to pass the assessment!”

Un… untamed Demonic beasts?

And what did a mental confrontation mean?

The soldiers in the room were stunned. A fresh layer of cold sweat beaded on their already pale faces. They had no idea what the rules the two high-ranking officials had just laid out even meant.

Before they could steel themselves, the staff members in charge of the assessment began pulling the tarps off the iron cages one by one… In an instant, the demonized beasts curled up asleep inside were revealed to everyone. The room was immediately filled with a chorus of heavy, ragged breathing.

Barren Lands Demonic Wolf, Bloodclaw Bear, Single-Horned Mammoth, Black-Winged Giant Bat, Serpent-Scaled Griffin, Demonic Fire Beast…

Standing before them were real, ferocious demonized beasts—creatures that were terrifying existences, whether in the rarely trodden mountain forests of the south or on the vast, boundless barren lands!

Gulp—

Someone made a loud swallowing sound, followed by the tremulous chattering of teeth born from fear that rippled through the ranks of soldiers.

“Let’s begin when you’re ready!” Chris said flatly before walking with Egnor to sit on chairs by the wall. Yet their burning gazes remained fixed on the recruits standing before the cages, as if they were already observing everyone’s performance.

“First, Gregor!”

A new recruit from Silverpine City, who came from a family of hunters, stepped forward and answered through gritted teeth, “Here!”

“Your choice?”

“The… the demonic wolf!”

As soon as he spoke, he was led to the cage holding the sleeping demonic wolf. He was made to sit in a chair that had been welded to the floor, his hands and feet secured with leather straps. A strangely shaped metal helmet was fastened over his face… A flexible metal tube hanging from the ceiling was pulled down and connected to a slot on the back of the helmet.

“Sai Ke!”

“Bale!”

“Beito!”

“Here!”

Trembling, everyone chose a cage. Following his past hunting experience, Sai Ke picked the Bloodclaw Bear—a beast he had personally witnessed and fought alongside his father and clansmen. These massive Demonic beasts often crossed the Spine of the Continent Mountains to harass the herds in the desert oases of northern Isengard. A hunting party of fifty would often have to sacrifice several clansmen to set up multiple traps and successfully ambush one.

After being tightly bound to the chair with leather straps, the cold metal helmet was placed over his face. Although it didn’t impede his breathing… the sudden loss of sight made him acutely sensitive to the warm, foul stench emanating from the great bear before him. He had the terrifying illusion of having crawled straight into a hibernating bear’s den.

The agonizing wait lasted only half a minute before a cold voice sounded in his ear, “Assessment begins. Initiating mental link!”

A wave of vertigo, like falling from a great height, washed over him. Sai Ke’s body tensed instantly, and cold sweat poured down his back.

When he opened his eyes again… he found that his surroundings had actually changed from the room to a pitch-black cave. Focusing his gaze on the depths of the cave, he saw a giant Bloodclaw Bear sprawled on the ground, fast asleep and snoring thunderously.

In that moment, Sai Ke could almost hear his own heart pounding against his ribs.

What do I do now? Do I just face this beast like before and endure for half an hour to pass?

Just as the thought surfaced in his mind, a stranger’s voice suddenly spoke in his ear, “Kill it! Complete your assessment!”

What? You want me to… hunt this demonized Bloodclaw Bear by myself?

In his panic, Sai Ke suddenly noticed the sleeping bear’s body twitch, as if it could wake at any moment.

This is bad! Weapon… I need a weapon! My gun…

He anxiously scanned his surroundings and saw a Magical Energy Gun with a silver sheen lying incongruously on the ground nearby. It even came thoughtfully supplied with several fully loaded magazines!

Sai Ke lunged forward in a single leap, snatching up the weapon. Guided by the muscle memory ingrained through long training, he assembled the magazine, racked the bolt to chamber a round, and completed the series of standard actions in seconds.

The crisp click of the mechanism echoed through the cave, instantly drawing the attention of the beast on the verge of waking.

Its blood-red eyes slowly opened, instantly locking onto the feeble prey standing before it. The great bear rose to its feet with an earth-shattering roar and, in the next second, pounced straight at Sai Ke.

Bang—

The shot rang out. Sai Ke quickly ducked his head and executed an agile combat roll… grazing the bear’s body as he dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the ferocious pounce.

But the seemingly ponderous bear immediately spun around and swiped with its paw. Its sharp claws raked across Sai Ke’s shoulder, sending him flying into the cave wall. Two gruesome wounds instantly gushed blood, which streamed down his arm and soaked his hand.

Perhaps because he was in the midst of a perilous life-or-death struggle, Sai Ke felt none of the pain from his severe injuries. He scrambled back to a half-crouch and, adopting a standard firing stance, pulled the trigger again.

This shot struck the bear’s chest, which was exposed as it stood, but it failed to pierce its heart and kill it. Instead, it only served to trigger its savage frenzy.

Awooo—

It lunged again. With no room to dodge, Sai Ke could only raise his weapon to block. The Magical Energy Gun was swatted away by a single blow, and the bear took the opportunity to pin him under its paw.

Sai Ke felt a tightness in his chest and couldn’t help but spit out a mouthful of blood… His hands scrambled desperately, and in a flash, he felt the bayonet at his waist—the one meant to be fitted to the front of the Magical Energy Gun.

As the bear opened its gaping maw to bite down on his head, he gripped the bayonet with both hands and thrust upward with all his might…

With a tearing sound, the sharp bayonet pierced through the beast’s lower jaw and plunged deep into its massive head.

The great bear’s body went rigid and collapsed on top of him, pinning him beneath its immense weight.

Another nauseating wave of vertigo washed over him… Trembling, Sai Ke opened his eyes to find the two high-ranking officials standing before him with smiles on their faces. The pointy-eared Minister Egnor was even leading a round of applause.

Clap, clap, clap—

“Excellent! A truly outstanding candidate!” Chris also praised him with a curl of his lip. “The others were either directly ‘killed’ by the Demonic beasts in the mental dreamscape, or they managed to endure through the test time but failed to complete the kill…”

“Only you… New Recruit Sai Ke. You are the only one who killed the Bloodclaw Bear you were linked with in the dreamscape!”

Chapter 647: Perfect Match

“Out of a five-hundred-man recruit battalion, and after excluding those who chose not to volunteer… only nineteen people passed the three rounds of testing in the end?”

Harvey closed the test report, pinching the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t help but let out an exasperated laugh.

Chris shrugged and spread his hands helplessly. “Your Majesty, you know how low the tolerance of mortals is… The less combat experience recruits have, the weaker their performance in this regard. We might be better off changing direction and looking for a breakthrough among the mentally tough veterans.”

“That’s right. Battle-hardened veterans may not possess the extraordinary abilities of Spellcasters and Bloodline Warriors, but in terms of mental fortitude and spiritual strength, they are clearly superior to these green recruits,” Egnor added in agreement.

But Harvey shook his head hesitantly and explained slowly, “It’s precisely because of the combat mindset that veterans have cultivated over years, and their unshakeable mental imprints… that they have a hard time truly entering the illusion experiments. Furthermore, with their supreme confidence in their own abilities and weapons, once they enter the dreamscape, their mental energy will manifest the powerful magical energy weapons they’ve seen and handled in the real world, allowing them to easily kill their matched demonic beast.”

If that happened, the objective Harvey sought to achieve through these experiments would fail completely. He needed the human and the target demonic beast to be on equal footing in terms of soul and mental energy strength. Only then could they achieve a perfect match and a high degree of fusion in the subsequent Magicalized Armor experiments.

He had discovered that using Spellcasters and Bloodline Warriors for soul grafting with magicalized creatures led to an imbalance of soul energy within the Magicalized Armor. This ultimately suppressed the spell-casting abilities of the “Beast Soul,” resulting in severely diminished attack power.

Harvey had immediately and keenly perceived that if the “Human Soul” and “Beast Soul” could be synchronized and equal, with their strengths balanced… there was a high chance of moving from the previous forced “grafting” to a complete fusion. This would allow the test subjects to possess the Beast Soul’s innate combat instincts and its inherent spellcasting abilities while wearing the armor, and at the same time, retain their lucid, rational human minds.

He immediately shifted the focus of his experiments to those “raw recruits” from all over the kingdom who had just completed their basic training.

With the assistance of Dawson, a master of mental magic, Harvey used the Dominion magic stone to quickly create a ready-made illusion stone. He then successfully “programmed the content” of the dreamscape within, making it a perfect match for the special recruitment assessment.

In the second round of the assessment, the ferocious demonic beasts those raw recruits saw in the dark room were images created by this illusion stone. For the final round, the illusion was drastically intensified through soul connection… turning it into a tangible mental dreamscape. This allowed the soldiers to personally enter it and engage in a life-and-death struggle with their matched demonic beast.

The ideal result, the one that best met the test’s requirements, was for a recruit to complete the Dream Hunt while being almost perfectly matched in strength with the target demonic beast.

The soldier named Sai Ke, mentioned in the report, had accomplished this task almost perfectly.

The other eighteen candidates who passed would require further repetitive training to meet the standard of successfully killing their targets in the dreamscape. Harvey felt there was no need to rush this part.

“Your Majesty, several more units of new recruits from the south will be arriving in the capital this month. Should we wait until they have all been screened before training the successful candidates together?” Pierce suddenly asked in a low voice.

Harvey refused decisively. “That won’t be necessary… These future augmented warriors are not intended to fight in large formations. Training them in small groups and in batches will allow them to match with their Magicalized Armor sooner and familiarize themselves with a completely different style of combat.”

Pierce nodded and bowed in acknowledgment… but for some reason, a faint sense of melancholy rose within him. His Majesty seemed to have immense confidence in the armored warriors these recruits would become. This would likely make the Bloodline Warriors, whom he had also created, feel threatened. He wondered if these two groups, both possessing extraordinary power, would inevitably develop conflicts in the future.

After all, when faced with their “Creator,” the deep-seated, soul-deep desire to draw close and vie for favor was simply unavoidable.

…

“Retch—”

Staring at the rancid Demon-Claw Bear before him, Sai Ke couldn’t help but let out a quiet retch.

He had passed all three rounds of testing and been officially selected for a special operations unit… an entire two days ago. Yet, not only did he still not know his unit’s name or serial number, he was also forced to remain in this assessment courtyard and tend to the daily needs of these ferocious beasts—feeding them and cleaning up after them.

After the brutal battle in the dream world, Sai Ke no longer felt his initial fear of the perpetually slumbering demonic bear. Researchers came by at regular intervals to inject it with a sedative, and all he had to do was clean up its waste three times a day while it slept, and use a thick metal tube to pry open its jaws and pour in a meat slurry to keep it alive.

It sounded simple enough, but when it came time to actually do it, the sour, putrid stench wafting from the great bear’s mouth during feeding was enough to make him gag on the spot.

Bale, who was tending to the Serpent-Scaled Griffin in the adjacent cage, had it even worse. Avian demonic beasts apparently had very short digestive tracts; he’d still be pouring the meat slurry in one end when it would start plopping out the other. Watery droppings splattered onto his body, and a foul stench instantly filled the room.

“Retch— I can’t take it! This is disgusting!”

“Ah! Dammit! Bale, stop!”

“No! It wasn’t me!”

The moment one person couldn’t hold it in and vomited, it set off a chain reaction throughout the stuffy room. The others started gagging as well, and the floor, which had just been scrubbed down with high-proof alcohol, was once again a complete mess.

What on earth was the point of all this?

Wiping away the tears the stench had brought to his eyes, Sai Ke choked back his nausea and continued with his work.

The door was suddenly opened from the outside. The staff officer who had been in charge of the assessment and selection appeared again. He stood at the door, hesitating for a moment, and wisely chose not to step inside.

“You useless lot! You have five minutes to clean up this mess, then assemble in the courtyard!”

By the time they had finally cleaned up the mess and assembled within the allotted time, they saw that the impatient-looking staff officer was wearing a strange expression, tinged with a sort of malicious glee.

“Starting tomorrow, your special training will officially begin. You will no longer have to tend to these comatose demonic beasts…”

He raised a hand and pointed to the researcher standing beside him, and to the full case of injectable potions he was holding.

“Because those demonic beasts will all be awakened. They will eat with you, live with you… so you can properly cultivate your rapport and your bond!”

Chapter 648: Monetary Reform

“Your Majesty, please look… This is the new currency, freshly printed. We haven’t had the alchemical beasts cut them yet!”

As Harvey and his retinue of officials entered the heavily guarded mint, the director, who had been waiting at the entrance, eagerly presented them like a treasured offering to claim credit.

Back when the kingdom was still just a pioneer territory, Harvey had begun to control the circulation of money by independently issuing paper currency called “gold yuan.” He used this to pay the salaries of the populace, soldiers, and officials under his rule. However, limited by the territory’s own output and lack of resources, this paper currency could only circulate within the Northern Realm. Once it crossed the Spine of the Continent Mountains, it was as worthless as a scrap of paper.

Whether it was for trade and procurement with the major merchant guilds of the south or for “online shopping” from other transcendent organizations on the Magic Net Forum, whenever money was involved, Harvey still had to pay with gold, silver, and copper coins.

This meant that the paper currency always required physical gold and silver as a value anchor, making it impossible for it to function as a standalone credit currency in the south for the time being.

But now, the situation was completely different. Since Harvey’s official coronation, the populous nation of St. Valen, located in the central part of the south, had fallen entirely under his Dominion. With an urban population of nearly five hundred thousand and double that number in the agricultural prefectures, all centrally managed under the nationwide City Hall system, the conditions were finally ripe for issuing legal tender.

In addition to the kingdom’s own abundance of goods ensuring internal supply, foreign trade, led by the capital Starfire City, was also booming. All sorts of magical-powered machinery from the Northern Realm, along with specialty products highly sought after by the nations of the south, were flying off the shelves. After signing monopoly sales agreements with the major merchant guilds, Harvey was practically raking in money from the moment he opened his eyes each day.

The frequent resource-plundering wars waged against nobles within the kingdom and in neighboring territories also caused the kingdom’s revenue to soar. Rainer had even ordered the construction of an underground vault between the Imperial Palace and the mint, specifically to store the real gold and silver they continuously seized from others.

Although a squadron of Bloodline Warriors guarded the Treasury in rotating shifts, supplemented by watch-type alchemical beasts on duty around the clock, the Emperor himself had never visited. Compared to heavy gold coins, he was clearly more interested in the fresh influx of population into his kingdom.

Only Rainer, Astaren, and a few other high-ranking officials knew that in the Emperor’s eyes, money was just a string of numbers he often heard people mention. As long as a project was beneficial to the kingdom’s development, any department official could walk into his office with their head held high, receive his personal written approval, and legally withdraw funds from the Treasury for external procurement.

The daily fluctuations in the Treasury’s gold reserves were unimportant; as long as the financial reports submitted by Rainer showed that the government revenue of Starfire City and the entire kingdom exceeded expenditures, all was well. Everyone knew that the Emperor would only get a little agitated when he saw a red deficit on the report.

“Hmm… the printing technique for the new banknotes has improved. Very good.” Harvey casually took the sheet of currency presented by the mint’s director and squinted at it for a moment.

Rainer, who was standing by his side, quickly added, “The denominations of the new currency will remain the same as before, with one hundred as the highest value, followed by fifty, twenty, ten, five, and one. Considering its eventual official circulation throughout the kingdom and the potential need for low-value transactions, we’ve also added a half-gold-yuan coin.”

It was almost impossible to counterfeit Starfire City’s printed banknotes in the nations of the south. The mere inclusion of the same strange demonic plants used in the production of resident identification cards allowed the National Banks in major cities to easily distinguish real notes from fakes.

A thin coating of rubber fruit, combined with a production line of precision-calibrated mechanical alchemical beasts… it made every banknote of the same denomination almost perfectly identical. The material was also flexible, moisture-proof, and mold-resistant, far beyond what the skilled artisans hired by nobles could ever hope to replicate.

In contrast, the new half-gold-yuan metal coin was easier to copy. Thus, the Alchemy Laboratory developed a special smelting formula, melting down old, scrapped silver and copper coins into an alloy to create this “cheap currency,” which would have a massive circulation but a complex minting process.

“The City Halls and official institutions throughout the kingdom have been using the old gold yuan for salaries since their establishment. After so long… the public’s resistance to this paper currency should have diminished significantly, right?”

Astaren quickly responded, “Late last autumn, the Intelligence Department and the Department of State secretly spread the news of Your Majesty’s impending Currency Abolition Decree. It did stir up a great deal of controversy at first. Most of the nobles who surrendered their lands to you and lost their Right of enfeoffment held large quantities of old gold and silver coins, so naturally, they found the decree hard to accept.”

Merchants skilled in speculation also had their complaints. After all, outside of St. Valen, no one would accept these colorful pieces of paper, which would severely restrict their business and trade.

Conversely, the hardworking common folk were not particularly concerned. Outside the capital, most of the government-built factories and farms in other cities in St. Valen paid salaries in half banknotes and half coins. The populace could freely go to a National Bank to exchange their currency at the legal rate. When they discovered that the agricultural products and goods sold in the state-run stores were significantly better in both price and quality than those from private vendors, people gradually began to voluntarily exchange all their coins for banknotes.

Harvey let out a derisive laugh and shrugged. “Soon enough, when they take their moldy, damp gold and silver coins to the cities and find they can’t even buy a single sack of wheat, they’ll know to obediently go to the bank and exchange them all.”

As long as the government strictly controlled the money supply and consistently used grain prices as a benchmark to maintain the stability of the gold yuan’s value, they could largely prevent inflation. Subtly, the people of the kingdom would come to accept these durable and convenient banknotes.

Pierce, who had accompanied Harvey to inspect the mint, looked somewhat puzzled. He reached out, picked the half-gold-yuan coin from among the sample currencies, and pinched it between his fingers, frowning with dissatisfaction. “This is unreasonable. Why is Your Majesty’s likeness engraved on the coin with the lowest denomination, while the twenty and ten-yuan banknotes feature silhouettes of farmers, soldiers, and workers?”

His Majesty the Emperor’s image was ranked even below that of his subjects… This was a complete inversion of the natural order!

“The design of the new currency was done entirely under my direction…” Harvey had anticipated that this “troublemaker” would raise objections and explained with a smile, “The banknote with the largest denomination is printed with the kingdom’s castle emblem. Below that, it is only right to feature the people who have shed their sweat for the nation’s development and construction. That is beyond question.”

There was another point he had no intention of explaining to a crude fellow like Pierce. Printing the Emperor’s likeness on the small-denomination coin with the largest circulation would maximize the public’s trust in the new currency’s legitimacy. It both displayed the ruler’s political authority and, subconsciously, forged a profound link in everyone’s mind between imperial power and the national legal tender.

And the Emperor’s own credibility was the value anchor for the currency issued by this nation.

Chapter 649: The Earl’s Business

The moment Haynes Webster stepped off the magical-powered train, he was instantly stunned by the bustling and prosperous scene before him.

The long and arduous journey to the Northern Realm had already overwhelmed his pampered, portly body. The train, speeding through the tunnels beneath the Spine of the Continent Mountains, had nearly shaken his old bones apart.

Fortunately, his attendant had promptly bought some “motion sickness medicine” from one of the official vendors roaming the train cars. After mustering the courage to take it, he finally found some relief… At least it prevented him from vomiting in front of a carriage full of gentlemen and wealthy merchants and disgracing the name of an old noble family.

As he stood there looking around, he suddenly heard a familiar voice call out, “The Earl!”

He turned his head and saw none other than Dickinson, whom he hadn’t seen in a long time… It was Dickinson, the Chief Knight, with whom he had worked for so long in the old capital.

This was the first time Haynes had seen him in civilian attire in public. The crisp, short, dark black uniform made him look exceptionally sharp. The silver-gray embroidery on the collar and cuffs was particularly elegant, and one could tell at a glance that the outfit was expensive.

“Ahem… Don’t call me The Earl anymore, Dickinson. I am no longer the Earl of the temporary residence.”

Dickinson nodded, a little awkwardly, and took the initiative. “Come into the city with me first. There are too many people coming to the capital recently. You probably won’t be able to find a hotel on your own.”

The Earl raised an eyebrow and quickly asked, “Are a lot of people here to seek an audience with His Majesty the Emperor?”

“It’s not as if His Majesty can be seen just because one wishes it… They’re just merchants from other regions and foreign lands, here during the goods fair to compete for primary purchasing and distribution rights.”

As he spoke, he led Haynes and his attendants out of the station. He pointed a finger at an alchemical wheeled vehicle parked by the side of the paved road. “Technically, picking you up today is a personal matter, and I’ve broken the rules by using a vehicle assigned by my department. I really shouldn’t have… But my superiors are generally lenient and will probably turn a blind eye.”

The Earl climbed cautiously into the open-topped wheeled vehicle, tugged on Dickinson’s sleeve, and whispered, “In that case… is what you told me in your letter true? Are you now part of the faction with real power under His Majesty the Emperor?”

“Not me, but the Staff Department where I work… However, it involves confidentiality regulations, so I can’t go into detail with you,” Dickinson explained gently, turning to look over his old colleague.

The Earl nodded in understanding. He clapped Dickinson on the shoulder and said with feeling, “If it weren’t for the many letters you sent, keeping me informed of the political winds in the capital, I might have been implicated in the trouble the Earl of Westwind stirred up in Goldshine City a while back.”

As an influential minister to the former Grand Duke of St. Valen and one of the few with the old royal bloodline, Haynes had given away most of his family’s wealth to protect their lives and fortunes after the capital fell. He even took the lead in handing over his fiefdom, actions which had greatly pleased His Majesty Harvey.

His ability to make such a decisive sacrifice to survive was partly due to his knack for assessing situations. On the other hand, the Earl’s family did not rely solely on taxes from their fiefdom to live; they still had many businesses throughout the kingdom, the most important of which was the sea salt trade!

When news of the Currency Abolition Decree got out, he too had thought the Emperor was trying to seize all the kingdom’s wealth, discarding the nobles who had chosen to pledge fealty to him now that their use was over. Moreover, the state-run markets established in the old capital had almost completely monopolized the trade of grain, agricultural products, and many other goods, squeezing private merchants to the breaking point.

Under these circumstances, the Earl had lost his patience. He sent people to secretly contact the spies the Earl of Westwind had planted in the city. He formed a secret faction with a group of other nobles who were also driven to desperation by the decree, seeking to side with the Church… they foolishly plotted to lead troops to retake control of Goldshine City.

Fortunately, Dickinson’s letters completely extinguished the Earl’s delusions, and he pulled back from the brink, sobering up in an instant.

Just as the letters had subtly hinted, within a few days… the noble circles of Goldshine City were swept clean with lightning speed by the Emperor’s “secret police” and the Justice Department. A large number of nobles were accused of colluding with foreign powers and intending to rebel. They were thrown into prison one after another like grasshoppers on a string, powerless to resist now that they had lost their fiefdoms and military authority.

Earl Haynes, however, was spared. He benefited from having been personally praised by His Majesty the Emperor for his upright conduct during the great purge, and from his wise decision to slam on the brakes midway through his plotting.

He had come to the capital in person this time not only to thank Dickinson face-to-face, but also to use the opportunity to network and inquire about the upcoming Currency Abolition Decree—specifically, how great the shocks and repercussions would be.

“Starfire City was already using His Majesty’s privately issued gold yuan banknotes even before the city was founded. This is a mandatory decree that represents the Emperor’s will. There is absolutely no possibility of it being rescinded or amended.”

Dickinson sighed. He understood the reason for the Earl’s visit and patiently advised him again, “The sea salt trade your family controls is an incredibly profitable business. As long as you strictly abide by the kingdom’s laws, sell at the capped price, and refrain from selling abroad… nothing will go wrong.”

The Earl wrung his hands, an anxious look on his face. “But… but His Majesty’s state-run merchant guilds, whether it’s the grain they sell or the sea salt they import from Faros, sell it all for cheaper than I do. In the long run, my business will just be gradually eaten away until there’s no profit left to speak of.”

Besides, the ironclad cargo ships that sail the Ralph River day and night far surpass ordinary sailing ships in both carrying capacity and speed. The fleet of the Earl’s family merchant guild is already at a clear disadvantage just competing on transport time.

“I heard that after His Majesty’s great purge of the nobles and wealthy merchants who opposed the Currency Abolition Decree, many people in cities across the land are planning to take their fortunes and move to neighboring countries. In the future… perhaps only the state-run merchant guilds will be able to operate smoothly in St. Valen?”

“Why would you think that?” Dickinson asked, frowning. “Have you forgotten the most important point, my lord? After His Majesty ascended the throne, he abolished all commercial taxes throughout the kingdom!”

Commercial taxes…

The Earl froze, then suddenly came to his senses… That’s right! In the past, when managing his family’s businesses, he had always used his status as a royal noble to avoid paying any taxes to the Grand Duke. Instead, as part of the tax-consuming class, he had extracted considerable taxes from the common folk. But the price he had to pay was no less than taxes… When necessary, the Haynes family’s fiefdom was always required to be the first to answer the Grand Duke’s wartime levies. The knights and squires his family trained also had to fight in the Grand Duke’s campaigns, and he had to bear the cost of maintaining soldiers and horses himself.

In a sense, this was the price the Earl paid in exchange for tax-free commerce and the right to seize profits.

But now, this Emperor had confiscated the nobles’ fiefdoms and military authority, yet he didn’t demand any additional taxes… In this respect, he seemed to treat merchants of noble and commoner birth with an even hand.

“So, do you understand now, my lord? The state-run merchant guilds exist for the common people, to guarantee their daily necessities… If you insist on competing with them for profit, you will inevitably be suppressed by His Majesty. But if you change direction and start a new venture, your noble status and His Majesty’s approval of your conduct will become an advantage and a pillar of support far greater than what anyone else possesses.”

Chapter 650: The Emperor’s Credibility

Three days later, huge bulletin boards were erected in the town squares of Starfire City, officially posting the kingdom’s decree on the abolition of the old currency and the switch to a new one. The Department of State, as usual, dispatched government officials to explain the policy, drawing large crowds of onlookers.

The Starfire Weekly, published on the same day, also featured this freshly issued decree as its front-page headline, elaborating on the detailed regulations in a bold, eye-catching format.

The people of the capital, long accustomed to using the old gold yuan banknotes, didn’t have much of a reaction. Instead, they were quite taken with the two new types of metal coins: the “half-gold-yuan” and the “quarter-gold-yuan.” The excessively high purchasing power of the old gold yuan had made it difficult to equate the value of banknotes with that of cheap imported goods. The smallest denomination, one gold yuan, had practically become the price floor in the capital, which had drawn some complaints from many frugal citizens.

A pound of freshly baked white bread for one gold yuan was naturally a good deal, but half a bundle of long-stalk sweet beets from Three-Forks Town also selling for one gold yuan was a bit hard to accept.

Thus, on the day the law was promulgated, many people lined up outside the National Bank early in the morning, eagerly exchanging their old banknotes for a large quantity of small-denomination coins to facilitate daily spending. For a time, enthusiastic discussions about these shiny little coins could be heard in every street and alley of the capital.

Earl Haynes, who was still staying at his inn, naturally received the news as well and quickly instructed his attendant to go out and buy him a copy of the newspaper.

He had originally planned to visit his old friend Dickinson and then ask him to pull some strings at the Department of Commerce to get a ticket to the capital’s trade fair. To his surprise, Dickinson was a stubborn, inflexible man. Using an official vehicle for private matters was fine, but he flatly refused to help the Earl by using his connections.

Fortunately, while he wouldn’t help with official business, he was still quite considerate to his old colleague in private. When he invited the Earl to a high-end restaurant, he even brought along Baron Ross, who currently worked with him in the Staff Department.

Ross Ralph, whose identity was sensitive like Haynes’s due to being one of the “remnants” of the Ralph family, had been unprecedentedly recruited by the Emperor to serve in the Military Command. This magnanimous and generous spirit of a king truly filled Haynes with admiration.

What with a few back-and-forth banquets and the fact that Starfire City, this great northern stronghold, had so many novel and magnificent buildings to see, the Earl found his eyes opened and was so captivated that he forgot all about leaving. He had postponed his return journey indefinitely.

He never expected that he would actually be here to see the Currency Abolition Decree officially promulgated.

Taking the newspaper from his attendant, his eyes fell upon the massive headline—【BLOCKBUSTER NEWS! NEW CURRENCY DECREE OFFICIALLY PROMULGATED!】

Below it was another line: 【St. Valen and the United Kingdom of the Northern Realm will, from this day forward, issue new gold yuan banknotes to replace the outdated gold, silver, and copper coins, as well as the old banknotes… The new currency is protected by the kingdom’s highest laws and its circulation is mandatory within the kingdom’s borders!】

Just as he thought! For the common people working in state-run factories and farms, the only difference was that their salary would be paid in new banknotes instead of old ones; the face value and purchasing power were virtually identical.

But for the nobles who ran businesses in their own lands relying on family influence, and for the various large and small merchant guilds that frequently traveled between nations, this decree was rather thought-provoking. Accepting this condition meant that the Emperor could, relying solely on the “scraps of paper” continuously printed by his minting workshops, freely and forcibly purchase any private goods that appeared within his kingdom. In other words, it was no different from tyrannical expropriation and robbery.

【The National Bank will permanently offer exchange services for new and old currencies. All citizens of the kingdom may, at any time, exchange their gold, silver, and copper coins for the new currency according to the stipulated rates… Foreign merchant guilds or trade organizations may also exchange the new currency they have earned for the old currency, but the bank will charge an additional ten percent currency tax to maintain and protect the nation’s favorable business environment.】

He sucked in a sharp breath—

Did this mean… that any foreign merchant who wanted to take the money they earned in St. Valen back home had to voluntarily hand over ten percent in taxes to the Emperor? Otherwise, they could only leave the country with a stack of colorful paper that was impossible to spend in any other nation!

For merchants whose business was confined within the kingdom, this held numerous intangible benefits. Not only did they enjoy the privilege of a full exemption from commercial tax, but they could also gain a slight edge over foreign merchants in price competition!

Haynes began to gradually realize that this currency decree, personally issued by His Majesty the Emperor, seemed to have many profound intentions hidden within it.

On the surface, it seemed to be a forced issuance of new currency, intended to plunder the industries and wealth of nobles and rich merchants. Upon closer inspection, however, it was actually the Emperor using his immense personal power to openly engage in trade protectionism for his own country’s commerce.

After all, the Emperor himself had no fear that these heavy-handed tactics would cause foreign merchant guilds to stop setting foot in St. Valen. Just possessing the two aces of magical energy engines and ironclad ships was enough to make those powerful merchant guilds from the south flock to him.

Not to mention the vast quantities of monopolized epidemic potions and the various high-end specialty goods from Starfire City. Any one of these, if transported to the nations of the south, would be a hot commodity that would cause the local wealthy gentry and nobles to scramble madly to acquire them.

At this thought, Dickinson’s words to him that day—【change direction and start a new venture】—surfaced in his mind once more. Perhaps abandoning the marginally profitable sea salt trade and instead trying to secure exclusive export rights for a specialty product from His Majesty would be the key opportunity for the Haynes merchant guild to rise.

If he transported goods from Starfire City abroad to earn gold and silver coins, and then used that money to purchase specialty goods from other countries to sell back home, creating a cycle of import and export, he wouldn’t have to worry about the hassle of repeatedly exchanging banknotes for coins, nor would he lose that ten percent currency tax. Given the popularity of Starfire City’s specialty products, it was a top-tier business that was a surefire gain!

Of course, the Earl still remembered the key point Dickinson had repeatedly emphasized to him—never compete with the common people for profit!

The sale of grain was prohibited, price controls were in place for all kinds of agricultural products, and daily necessities for the common folk were sold at low prices by the state-run merchant guilds, completely squeezing profit-driven private merchants out of the low-cost market.

Moreover, once a trade trend was established, a large number of foreign merchants would surely, in order to save on the currency tax, retain a certain amount of gold yuan as payment for their next purchases. Backed by His Majesty the Emperor’s power and credibility, they would certainly come to understand that these pieces of paper could indeed buy goods of equivalent value, and were also waterproof, moisture-resistant, and convenient to carry. As this developed slowly, this special currency, initially restricted to circulation within St. Valen, would probably spread throughout the entire south.

As long as the goods produced in Starfire City remained irreplaceable, the gold yuan banknotes would slowly erode the authoritative status of traditional gold and silver coins. When that time came… His Majesty the Emperor, who held the minting rights, would indisputably become the wealthiest supreme being among the nations of the south.

His wealth, too, would become nearly infinite…

Chapter 651: The Currency Validator and the Entry Ticket

“Counterfeit the new currency issued by His Majesty?”

Dickinson reached into his coat and took out his leather wallet. Ever since the capital had switched to circulating banknotes, the populace had gradually abandoned the old habit of using coin purses. Instead, these exquisitely crafted and portable leather wallets had become fashionable. Kept snugly in an inner jacket pocket, they eliminated the trouble of having a purse snatched from one’s belt.

He pulled a crisp new gold yuan bill from his wallet and handed it to the Earl. “Who do you think has the ability to counterfeit this? The Alchemical Exploration Society or the Oland Royal Craftsmen’s Guild?”

The Earl took the banknote, and a single glance was enough to dispel his concerns.

A banknote of this craftsmanship was indeed more intricate and elaborate than the Oland gold coins that had once been the most widely circulated currency in the south. It couldn’t possibly be counterfeited so easily.

The front of the gold yuan was printed with a large symbol representing the number one hundred in the common Rioll script of the south.

The back featured the national emblem of St. Valen and the United Kingdom of the Northern Realm, which also served as the crest of the capital, representing Starfire City and the Emperor’s authority. Against a silhouette of the Imperial Palace, two silver magic energy lances were crossed, and below them sat three gold stars in a row… symbolizing the Emperor’s three most important and powerful departments: the central Department of State, the Military Command, and the central Academy of Sciences, which had officially integrated the New Federation, the Alchemical Research Center, and the Spellcaster Academy.

The banknote was thin in his hand, yet its texture was soft and durable, as if coated with an invisible film. The intricate patterns on its surface refracted multiple layers of color at different angles under the sunlight, a clear indication that exotic magical materials had been mixed into the ink.

“Take me to the National Bank!” the Earl pleaded in a low voice, grabbing his old friend’s sleeve. “I want to exchange some gold pounds for the new currency.”

The National Bank, situated next to the Department of State building, was completely mobbed. Although it had been a full day since the new currency was issued, a ceaseless stream of people still came of their own accord to exchange for low-denomination coins.

Dickinson patiently took out his officer’s identification and led the Earl through the “military channel,” just barely managing to squeeze inside.

In the spacious hall, spanning a thousand square meters, long lines had already formed at the dozens of exchange windows. Bank clerks in uniform scurried back and forth, so busy they were practically run off their feet. Thankfully, the title of a mid-level staff officer from the General Staff still carried some weight. The two were quickly led to the second floor by the receiving manager and shown into a processing room dedicated to serving visiting merchant guilds.

“Sir Dickinson, are you sure you want to exchange three thousand in new currency for this Mr. Haynes? If so… your priority exchange quota for the next three months will be completely used up,” the bank manager said, after pulling up the corresponding account information. He hesitated for a moment before reminding him.

Dickinson shook his head with a resigned sigh. “I’m sure… my friend is in urgent need of this money as payment for his upcoming procurement in the capital.”

The manager nodded, double-checked Haynes’s Goldshine City residence certificate, and opened a new account for him at the National Bank. Then, with a wave of his hand, a row of ropes, each with a different tag hanging from its end, suddenly descended from the ceiling.

After identifying the correct one with practiced ease, the manager pulled on it. The wall behind him began to click and whir, and a section of movable panel slowly lifted to reveal a conveyor belt half the size of a desk.

The machinery within the wall continued to operate, and in a short while, Dickinson and the Earl watched as a stack of brand-new banknotes was slowly delivered on the conveyor belt.

The manager turned and retrieved it, but instead of handing it to them right away, he pulled another rope. This opened a vertical, clock-like cabinet standing against the same wall, revealing a complex and delicate mechanical structure inside.

He placed the stack of new currency neatly into the clock-like device and waited for a soft white light to glow at its top. Only then did he properly seal the banknotes in a paper bag and hand it to the two men.

“What… what is this magical instrument? Why did you have to place the new currency in it…” the Earl asked, his curiosity piqued as he took the bag.

The manager chuckled and explained patiently, “This is a currency validator. According to regulations, all gold yuan, whether being deposited or withdrawn, must pass through it. This is partly to prevent counterfeit bills from being accepted, and partly to ensure that customers receive only genuine currency.”

Checking banknotes even upon withdrawal?

The Earl and Dickinson exchanged a look of mutual astonishment. This was indeed a remarkably transparent practice. Verifying the authenticity of the currency in front of the person making the withdrawal not only subtly enhanced the public’s acceptance of and confidence in the new currency, but it also helped them completely separate the gold yuan from the subconscious notion of “colorful pieces of paper.” It made them recognize its value as a true replacement for gold, silver, and copper coins.

His Majesty the Emperor’s methods were truly worthy of admiration.

After leaving the National Bank, the Earl finally caught his breath and sought Dickinson’s advice. “If I want to get an entry ticket to the capital’s trade fair, which government departments do I need to go through?”

“As a newcomer… you have almost no chance,” Dickinson said, shaking his head decisively. “Neither the Ministry of Commerce nor the Import and Export Department will be willing to grant the limited qualifications to outsiders. Only those with a long history of excellent cooperation with His Majesty, like the Dragonstone Merchant Guild or the Faros Royal Merchant Guild, can obtain purchasing and distribution rights to order the highly sought-after goods exclusively handled by their partners in the capital.”

The Earl knew he couldn’t even dare to dream of landing deals as colossal as ironclad ships or plague potions. Even the magical-powered steam engines, which sold so well in the south, were largely monopolized by the Andrew Merchant Guild, which also had close ties with the Emperor.

After mulling it over, the Earl finally set his sights on high-priced luxury goods aimed at the noble and wealthy clientele.

“On Sunday, Sir Ross accompanied me on a tour of the inner city. We passed a state-run clothing store in the Market District and saw a type of robe that the clerk claimed was woven from the silk of a unique ice silkworm from the Northern Barren Lands. I heard that the purchasing and distribution rights for it will also be up for public bid at the upcoming trade fair?”

“Oh? That stuff…” Dickinson raised his eyebrows and smiled. “I’ve heard of it. It’s a rare commodity. The Agriculture Department has yet to master large-scale farming of the ice silkworms. Apart from the top-grade silk being prioritized for use in the Imperial Palace, I imagine some of the slightly inferior quality silk is released by the textile mills for public sale.”

The ice silkworm silk robes were indeed smooth and supple to the touch. They were light and comfortable to wear, warm in the winter and cool in the summer… but a single robe cost nearly a month of Dickinson’s salary, a price that made the vast majority of the capital’s citizens flinch.

“What… does the Earl think such an expensive commodity can be profitable within the kingdom?”

Seeing him willing to discuss it, the Earl rubbed his hands together excitedly. “Never mind within the kingdom, it would have nobles and wealthy gentlemen falling over themselves to get it anywhere! Back when you and I were in Goldshine City, were we not already clear on the nobles’ penchant for extravagance?”

Compared to ornate armor that could only gather dust in a manor or the gold and jewels piled high in a treasury, a rare novelty from the new capital was far more likely to ignite their desire to compete and acquire it.

Chapter 652: Policy Reactions

“Your Majesty, the new currency escorted by the Aerial Combat Mage Independent Regiment has now arrived in all the cities across the kingdom.”

Rainer walked into Harvey’s office, holding a thick stack of reports, and bowed as he reported.

It had been a full five days since the decree was issued to the official circulation. The Mint had nearly emptied out all the new currency printed and minted three months in advance, just barely enough to distribute throughout the entire kingdom… just in time for the payday of administrative institutions, factories, and farms, to be issued to the populace as wages.

Besides paying the salaries of workers in state-owned industries, the Administrative Halls and banks in each region also needed to set aside a portion of the new currency to handle voluntary exchanges from the local populace. The old gold, silver, and copper coins taken out of circulation would be weighed, then melted down on the spot into crude ingots of gold, silver, and copper. These would then be escorted back to the capital by the military… to be reminted into a unified “foreign exchange” currency.

“Have the administrative departments and banks in all regions closely monitor the new currency exchange situation during this period…”

No matter how one looked at it, this bold implementation of monetary reform was a significant risk for a nation that had just changed rulers and undergone a major reshuffling of its social classes. Moreover, the political situation in the nations of the south was unstable, and they faced a powerful and strange non-human race abroad. To break with convention and force a currency change at this critical juncture… if not handled carefully, the prestige he had long built up in the minds of the common people could be damaged.

“Rest assured, Your Majesty. I have personally overseen every step. The administrative apprentices I personally trained in the past have now been dispatched to the Administrative Halls in various regions to keep a close watch on the situation for us.”

Rainer, for his part, had always been optimistic about the new currency policy. The initial amount of currency issued, which he and Astaren had personally calculated, was also strictly equivalent to the quarterly salary payments of the state-owned industries.

The people who worked diligently for the Emperor’s industries would naturally not care that next month’s salary was changing from old banknotes to new gold yuan. Since the amount remained the same and the purchasing power was equal, at most they would go to the bank to exchange for some of the newly issued coins for small change.

As for the nobles and wealthy merchants who already held large amounts of old gold and silver coins, they were unlikely to have accumulated many banknotes anyway, so there was no need to worry about them causing a large-scale bank run.

Astaren deeply agreed with this, chuckling in his buzzing voice, “Your Majesty need not worry. Even if a bank run were to happen… the gold and silver collected from across the nation in the kingdom’s Treasury would be more than enough to handle it. After all, over these many years… whether from export trade or foreign wars, we’ve had good returns almost every time. The gold and silver coins from all over the south in the Treasury are piled so high they’re about to overflow.”

He paused, the deep red soul fire in his eyes flickering, and added in a low voice, “Besides… even if someone did attempt to incite chaos, the secret police are watching at all times.”

Elliot, the Deputy Director of Commerce, seated at the lower end of the conference table, thought for a moment before rising to cautiously report, “We were previously concerned that the Currency Abolition Decree would affect domestic trade, but it now seems that was entirely unnecessary… After learning of the decree, even when those merchant guilds sell out the goods they bring from abroad, they are unwilling to exchange the gold yuan they receive back into old gold coins. They would rather use the gold yuan to purchase more goods and go through the trouble of shipping them back to their own countries to sell.”

After all, for a merchant, the ten percent currency tax represented pure profit in real gold and silver. They would absolutely not be willing to part with it unless they had no other choice.

This back-and-forth has instead accelerated the dumping of St. Valen’s goods into the nations of the south. At the same time, it has also sparked a boom in the busy shipping lanes from Starfire City to the south. The large number of merchants lining up to rent ironclad ships has nearly broken down the doors of the Import and Export Department.

If not for the law strictly prohibiting the export of grain, they would even be willing to spend all the money they earned on St. Valen’s specialty high-quality wheat. Shipping it back to their own countries was a surefire gain.

At this thought, Harvey finally relaxed. He tapped his fingers on the tabletop twice and started a new topic.

“The annual trade fair is about to be held. Has the list of attendees been compiled?”

Rainer quickly stood up. “It was compiled long ago. It’s just… Your Majesty, you originally promised that, with the exception of the Dragonstone Merchant Guild, the Faros Royal Merchant Guild, and the Andrew Merchant Guild, the purchasing, distribution, and exclusive rights for all other merchant guilds would be limited to one year… Now, the trade fair hasn’t even started, but these people have already arrived in the capital early to inquire everywhere, wanting to confirm if you will continue to grant them monopolistic rights for the same types of goods.”

Harvey chuckled lightly and shook his head. “They’ve had a little taste of success with me, and now they’re starting to take a mile… These fellows full of slippery schemes. Tell them… since their rights have expired, they can wait to compete fairly with their peers during the trade fair.”

Elliot rose again, speaking cautiously, “Your Majesty, recently, there are still many merchant guilds asking if you would be willing to open up the sales rights for agricultural and sideline products other than grain… especially, especially livestock and processed meat products.”

For the people of the south and ordinary merchants not involved in politics, ironclad ships and magical-powered engines were rare things, very distant from their lives… In contrast, the anti-plague potion with its miraculous efficacy, St. Valen’s specialty Harvest Number One high-quality wheat, the famous Icefield Vodka, and the extremely long-lasting and diverse range of canned goods—these were the bestselling products they enthusiastically discussed in their daily lives.

Early in the capital’s establishment, Starfire City experienced a period of explosive population growth. Both the Department of State and the Agriculture Department were most worried about how to feed the more than one hundred thousand people cramming the capital, while also having to account for potential food shortages and seasonal famines in other parts of the kingdom. There wasn’t even a tiny bit of the food quota that could be spared for foreign trade.

With the full development of the Eastern Expansion base, coupled with the popularization of Magically Altered Grain Seeds and mechanized farming throughout the kingdom, the dire situation of food storage shortages was quickly reversed. Besides wheat and barley, which were valued as the foundation of the state, a large surplus finally appeared in animal husbandry, fishing, sugar, salt, spices, and various other agricultural byproducts and processed foods.

Harvey felt… it was about time to find some export markets and sales channels for this surplus agricultural capacity.

“Foreign trade of agricultural and sideline products and processed foods can be completely opened up to the merchant guilds at this trade fair, but the purchasing and distribution rights must still be publicly bid on. The highest bidder wins.”

He paused, then suddenly raised a hand and pointed to Ashe, who had been huddled in a corner of the conference hall, and asked, “Those two envoys from the Sea-folk… when they visited the Agriculture Department a few days ago, they mentioned a type of sea silkworm native to the ocean. Go ask them if the technique for raising sea silkworms can be applied to the Northern Realm’s ice silkworms. The Agriculture Department has been at a complete loss about this lately.”

The scene of a massive die-off of ice silkworms had been replaying in his mind, and Minister of Agriculture Anbiki, who had been distracted throughout the entire meeting, suddenly jolted. He snapped back to his senses… only to realize that His Majesty had just offered him a solution. He quickly turned his head and shot a pleading look at Ashe.

Chapter 653: The Stagnant Situation

Just as the demonetization decree and the issuance of the new currency were in full swing throughout the kingdom, Harvey set aside these affairs and once again turned his attention to the non-human enemies stirring restlessly in the north.

The reports sent back from the Ice Sea front had piled up over this period, and just in time for a meeting with the senior leadership of the Ministry of Defense, he reviewed and approved them all in one go.

Ever since the battle at Great Bear Lake successfully destroyed the Demonic Lizardmen’s Floating Island Number 3 and their underground passage was sealed during the siege of Goris, the enemy had made almost no major moves for over a month, from late spring to early summer. Number Two Floating Island, suspected to be their main war fortress, was so heavily defended by the Ice Sea Base that it struggled to effectively extend its predatory reach into the surrounding area.

With alternating cover from ground sentry forts and aerial units, dozens of mobile combat teams, composed of regular soldiers and Bloodline Warriors, moved flexibly across the vast, boundless ice sea, decisively intercepting and wiping out the enemies that occasionally poured forth from Number Two Floating Island.

If the situation continued to develop in this manner, both Harvey and the Staff Department believed that by late summer at the latest—once the Ice Sea front had completed its allocation of strategic supplies and assembly of troops—they could launch a major, phased counter-offensive against Number Two Floating Island.

The counter-offensive plan was progressing so smoothly, yet Harvey never let his guard down.

As a powerful non-human race that had once defeated humanity in the continental heartland—the Land of Origin—they weren’t truly beaten into submission… Even with powerful magical energy weapons and the natural strategic depth of the Northern Barren Lands, Harvey did not believe humanity held an overwhelming advantage over the Demonic Lizardmen.

Intelligence reports from the numerous reconnaissance airships sent out indicated that these hide-covered monsters had merely shifted their focus for the time being, engaging in fierce battles with the hundreds of vile orc tribes entrenched throughout the barren lands.

In the Ministry of Defense conference room, Pierce pointed to a magic stone image projected on a white wall, methodically briefing Harvey.

“Between the Ice Sea Base and Great Bear Lake, the Demonic Lizardmen have opened a second new front, crossing the barren lands to reach Heaven’s Wrath in the Spine of the Gods Mountains. And unfortunately… this front is home to a vast number of vile orc tribes, numbering in the hundreds of thousands by a rough estimate.”

The blurry image from the Recording Stone showed tens of thousands of vile orcs in a deep part of the barren lands called the Leru Grand Canyon, fiercely battling a force of several thousand Demonic Lizardmen accompanied by Winged ones.

On the great canyon grassland, the vile orcs, fierce and unafraid of death, charged like murky yellow tidal waves crashing against a reef, launching wave after wave of assaults on the Demonic Lizardmen positioned on the high ground. Yet their opponents stood firm, as unyielding as hard obsidian.

Seen from a distance through the magic stone’s aerial view, the swarming figures on the battlefield were so densely packed that it made the scalps of the high-ranking defense officials present tingle.

Conch Beasts the size of two-story buildings led the charge, advancing slowly and unstoppably. The vile orcs swarmed them, only to be crushed into a pulp of flesh and blood underfoot… The crude weapons forged by these primitive tribes couldn’t even break the giant beasts’ outer shells when they struck. They had just as much trouble penetrating the tough, flexible husks of the ordinary Demonic Lizardman soldiers.

A great number of Winged ones hovered in the air, using the Conch Beasts for cover as they attacked the vile orcs without restraint. Dense volleys of black crystalline spikes and occasional bursts of red-light lightning reaped swathes of enemy lives with nearly every attack.

There were no distinct offensive or defensive roles throughout the entire battle, nor were there fortified walls to use for tactical advantage. It was a completely primitive and brutally pure, bloody conflict.

Even though the vile orcs were numerous, they were nearly powerless against the greater strength and more advanced attack methods of the Demonic Lizardmen. Only a few priests hidden among their ranks could control stitched corpse puppets to offer some slight resistance.

“No wonder they’ve been so quiet on the Ice Sea front. It turns out they’ve shifted their focus to these natives of the barren lands.”

Harvey nodded and mused for a moment before hazarding a guess, “In that case, the Demonic Lizardman unit that infiltrated Goris was likely an isolated force with no reinforcements. Now that their underground passage is completely sealed, they probably won’t waste any more soldiers sending them there.”

“The vile orcs are even more numerous than the gray rabbits of the barren lands, which are known for their prolific breeding. If these non-humans intend to clean them up first before turning their full attention back to us… it will likely take them a great deal of time,” Pierce judged, a clear look of delight on his face.

Without a doubt, both the vile orcs and the Demonic Lizardmen were enemies of humanity. For the Humans of the south, having them engage in a brutal slaughter against each other was the best possible outcome. It would also give the kingdom ample time to prepare for the counter-offensive to come.

However, the senior defense officials present knew full well… that these natives of the barren lands wouldn’t last long. They wouldn’t be nearly as effective as the Demons north of the Western Realm, who had been locked in a century-long cycle of conflict and uneasy coexistence with humanity.

…

Of course, the vile orcs entrenched in the vast barren lands had always been the type to bully the weak and fear the strong. They would never just stay put and be slaughtered. In the past, whether facing a Demon purge or a human counter-attack after one of their southward raids… they always adhered to the simple philosophy of running if they couldn’t win. They would migrate as a whole tribe, scattering in all directions, and they could always find a new place to settle down and multiply.

This also meant the Demonic Lizardmen could turn their attention back to them at any moment. Once they cleared away the “trash” blocking their path, they would reignite this war of extermination.

Harvey had already foreseen this… Despite the current war situation being favorable to humanity, this was only a brief respite. The kingdom still needed to remain on high alert and continue its war preparations.

According to Harvey’s plan, with the kingdom’s currently abundant funds and provisions, the Ministry of Defense should immediately begin a new round of military expansion. At the same time, the scope of recruitment needed to be widened further… no longer limited to the main capital cities of the kingdom’s various regions, but extending down to the populous counties, towns, and villages.

The Department of State, which had just completed the national census, estimated that if the publicity campaigns in the areas outside the cities were successful… they could provide at least three full-strength regiments, a force approaching over six thousand men.

According to the Staff Department’s projections, if the grassroots municipal departments in the counties, towns, and villages under the capital cities could get up and running smoothly, and if the locally trained administrative officials could fully take charge of local governance, they could absorb the large surplus of agricultural labor created by mechanized farming. The number of recruits could even double.

In that case, the number of professional soldiers in St. Valen and the United Kingdom of the Northern Realm would approach the thirty thousand mark… This would be an unprecedentedly massive military force among the human nations of the south, enough to easily crush all neighboring countries. Even Oland, previously the most powerful nation, would find it difficult to contend with them.

Chapter 654: The Knack of Raising Silkworms

“Although sea silkworms originate from the sea, they don’t actually grow in the water.”

During their second audience with the Emperor, the two envoys from the Sea-folk were clearly much more at ease. Before Harvey could even ask, they laid out all the details of their tribe’s specialty product.

“That’s right. After the sea silkworm eggs hatch in the sea, the larvae instinctively climb onto coral islands and reefs. They retreat into the crevices of the rocks, eating algae and moss while spinning their cocoons.”

Epton pointed to the brightly colored silk robe he was wearing, explaining with some satisfaction, “So our people don’t need to bother with raising or domesticating them at all. We just need to go to the islands and reefs to collect the silk cocoons after the moths emerge and return to the sea to lay their eggs… For the Sea-folk, it’s a gift from the Sea God.”

So it was a gift from nature… no artificial cultivation required.

Harvey nodded in disappointment, realizing his plan to glean their cultivation techniques had fallen through. He sighed and said, “I was originally hoping to ask you two envoys for advice on the issue of raising ice silkworms in our country’s Northern Realm…”

He then patiently explained to Zaka and Epton the situation in the Northern Realm: they could artificially hatch the ice silkworms, but a large number of them would always die during the larval development stage.

After the implementation of the new currency decree, the kingdom’s commercial market and import-export trade would soon enter a phase of explosive growth. Once the sales restrictions on agricultural and sideline products—everything except grain—were completely lifted, the light industry would inevitably boom as well.

But to this day, the consumer goods industry in St. Valen and the Northern Realm was still in its infancy… Whether it was textiles, daily necessities manufacturing, or the processing of salt, sugar, spices, tobacco, and alcohol, they still relied on imports from a few large, closely-cooperating merchant guilds.

The textile industry, in particular, was developing especially slowly. Basic raw materials like cotton and linen were all imported from countries like Oland in the Western Realm. More luxurious and expensive silk products were partly sourced from Faros and partly from the Elven race of the Golden Forest in the east.

Food, clothing, shelter, and transportation are the foundations of the national economy and people’s livelihood. They are also powerful means of increasing national happiness and stabilizing public morale. Harvey had spent years of painstaking effort to basically solve three of these problems… Naturally, he wouldn’t give up on the issue of ‘clothing’.

Zaka considered for a moment, then rose and placed a hand on his chest. “Your Majesty need not worry. While my people have no experience in raising sea silkworms, our long years of observation and collection have given us some insight into how silkworms grow… If you don’t mind, please allow us to visit your ice silkworm farm. Perhaps we can offer your minister some useful advice.”

Ever since Harvey had relented and agreed to sell ships to the Sea-folk, the diplomatic mission, which had traveled a great distance to the Northern Realm, had been stuck in a long wait. Even with all the shipbuilding materials ready, it would take at least a month to complete the welding, assembly, and internal outfitting of five brand-new ironclad ships. The long wait made him anxious, afraid the Emperor might suddenly go back on his word… Now that the other party suddenly needed something from him, he was naturally eager to demonstrate his own value and add some goodwill to their transaction.

…

Anbiki had been eagerly waiting at the ice silkworm farm for the better part of the day. He finally saw Ashe arrive… along with the two Sea-folk “experts” appointed by His Majesty.

Inside the spacious shed, large numbers of dead ice silkworms were visible everywhere. Workers were gathering the unprocessed carcasses with shovels, to be hauled to the adjacent poultry farm tomorrow to be used as feed.

The tragic scene immediately silenced the three newcomers before they even had a chance to exchange greetings.

“How did it come to this?”

“Whether it’s the environment, the temperature, or the food… we’ve strictly tried to replicate the growing conditions of wild ice silkworms. But every time the larvae hatch, a massive die-off quickly follows. Less than ten percent manage to survive, and the quality of the silk cocoons they produce is far inferior to those harvested in the wild.”

Epton glided around the area on his tentacled limbs, then bent down to pick up the finger-sized carcass of an ice silkworm, examining it closely.

“They are indeed very similar to sea silkworms in some respects. They don’t have a pair of eyes like ordinary silkworms; instead, they rely entirely on their sense of smell and skin perception to move.”

Anbiki fought the urge to stare at the “expert’s” slimy octopus tentacles below the waist. He forced a wry smile and gave a thumbs-up. “Your Excellency’s observational skills are truly astonishing. You know so much about the nature of silkworms.”

Ice silkworms were indeed quite different from the common silkworms found in the south. The difference wasn’t just the superior quality of the silk they produced—robes made from it were not only soft and comfortable but also had the miraculous property of being warm in winter and cool in summer… The most important point was that they were most active at night. During the day, they would curl up motionless in the cool, dark corners of the farm, not eating at all.

This point alone baffled many of the experienced old silkworm farmers hired by the Agriculture Department. Not only did they have to work nocturnal hours, but they also had to be especially careful when tending to these shade-loving, cold-resistant silkworms. The slightest mistake would trigger a devastating “mass die-off”.

“What about the feed? Are you providing them with the same type of food they would normally eat in the wild?”

Anbiki quickly replied, “Of course. Although ice silkworms are nocturnal, their diet is still the same as ordinary silkworms. We chose their favorite mulberry trees from the barren lands. We not only transplanted a large grove of them to the capital’s Farm, but we also supply them with fresh mulberry leaves picked the same day every evening.”

To have gone to such lengths and still be unable to manage these silkworms, the Shepherd Knight felt he had met the greatest Waterloo of his career. It was even more trouble than raising His Majesty’s tens of millions of precious Energy-devouring beetles.

Zaka twitched his nose and sniffed a few times. He realized that in this seemingly well-lit and well-ventilated farm, he couldn’t smell a trace of silkworm droppings or rotting mulberry leaves. The hardened, flat ground was clearly washed and cleaned often, making it countless times cleaner than any poultry or livestock pen.

Perhaps… the problem lay right here.

He exchanged a look with his companion, Epton, and they both realized at once that they had grasped the key issue.

“It’s too clean! This environment hasn’t been set up to replicate the ice silkworms’ natural habitat at all. Forgive my bluntness… but while observing sea silkworms, my people discovered an interesting phenomenon. The larvae that come ashore after hatching are forced to eat faster because of certain natural predators, like birds, on the coral islands and reefs. This is so they can quickly spin their cocoons and pupate in order to survive.”

But this farm, for these frail larvae, is a completely artificial paradise that goes against their nature, a place where they’re spoon-fed… Moreover, the excessive cleaning, light, and ventilation also cause them to lose much of their natural immunity. The slightest thing goes wrong, and they die in droves.

“Is… is that really the reason?” Anbiki was stunned by the explanation. It took him a long moment to come to his senses before he said excitedly, “I will carefully consider the advice you’ve both given and immediately arrange for a batch of newly hatched larvae for an experiment!”

Chapter [arabic_numeral]: Family Emergency, Taking a Day Off!

Family Emergency, Taking a Day Off!

My dad was at home building a fish pond in the yard by himself, and he ended up smashing and fracturing his wrist, ring finger, and pinky finger…

I’ve been busy running back and forth at the hospital all day, and I still have to stay overnight in his room to watch over him. I can’t squeeze out any time to write at all, so I can only take a day off for now.

I’m very sorry! I will find the time to post an update tomorrow.

Chapter 655: Demon Armor Fitting (Part 1)

Bale panted heavily, yanking off the metal mask clasped over his head. He stood up from his chair, grabbed a canteen, and began to chug it down.

“Failed again?” Sai Ke had finished his dream illusion earlier than him, but the sweat stains soaking his thin military shirt showed that the battle he had just experienced was equally intense.

Bale shook his head, looking dejected. “If it were still in the beast’s lair like before, I’d be ninety percent sure I could kill it within five minutes. But the instructor just had to change the dreamscape to a dense forest…”

Before he could finish complaining, the instructor walked over, his face stern and his brow furrowed in dissatisfaction. “Rest for ten minutes, then continue… Your objective today is to once again kill your respective demonic beasts in the new dreamscape!”

Bale waited until the instructor turned his back and left, then shot Sai Ke a look, a silent wail in his eyes… Compared to Sai Ke’s Bloodclaw Bear, his opponent was a Demonic Fire Beast—the largest, strongest, and most ferocious of all the demonic beasts available for selection after they had passed the initial test!

“I should have been clever like Santas and picked the Serpent-Scaled Griffin. At least when fighting it in the woods, I could use the bushes for cover and launch a sneak attack on a flying target from the ground.”

Sai Ke didn’t reply. He sat on his chair, lost in thought, seemingly replaying the mistakes from his last battle.

It was strange… After passing the test and joining this special combat squad, they had not undergone any of the regular training other new recruits did. For the better part of a month, aside from the traditional morning and evening drills, they had been required to stay at this base all day, paired with the demonic beasts they had chosen.

Over and over, they used the mental link to enter that bizarre dream illusion, engaging in brutal, pitched battles with their opponents.

He had always thought that the first time he successfully killed the Bloodclaw Bear was just a stroke of luck… But as the number of training sessions increased and he gained more experience fighting it in the dreamscape, Sai Ke began to realize something—

It seemed that every time he grew a little stronger in the illusion, the Bloodclaw Bear, which had also fought him hundreds of times, would grow stronger in tandem… Its strength, speed, and reflexes all showed noticeable improvement.

Although most of the time, Sai Ke, as the one wielding powerful magical energy weapons, still held the upper hand and managed to grievously injure or kill his opponent more often.

They seemed to be perpetually evenly matched, repeating the cycle within the dreamscape in a delicate balance.

The instructor’s voice, punctual as a clock, urged them on again. Bale and Sai Ke looked at each other and let out a collective sigh… then simultaneously fastened the masks that established the mental link.

…

After five rounds of training, all the soldiers present looked drained. They stood up, swaying, their steps unsteady. A nearby researcher, responsible for observation and recording, quickly took out calming potions from a medical kit and distributed the daily ration to them.

The instructor, who had left the training room at some point, returned in a hurry, his face grim as he began to call out names. “Sai Ke, Bale, Santas, Gregor, you four, with me!”

The soldiers’ hearts tensed. They immediately fell out of line and followed him out of the room… Outside the training base, located in a corner of the Military Barracks, an open-topped alchemical wheeled vehicle was already waiting.

After climbing into the wheeled vehicle and setting off, Sai Ke leaned closer to the instructor in the front seat and asked cautiously, “Chief, where… where are we going?”

The instructor turned around, a hint of envy mixed with a bit of amusement in his eyes. “You’ll know when we get there.”

The Kingdom’s Alchemy Experimental Center?

Why would the instructor bring them here? …

Only after truly entering this building, rumored to be where all the incredible magical weapons were developed and manufactured, did Sai Ke get the faint feeling that today’s trip was something out of the ordinary.

The instructor, with practiced ease, exchanged a few pleasantries with several directors who came forward to greet them. He then handed the four of them over before turning and walking back towards the entrance without a second glance.

Sai Ke and the others were immediately led into a spacious laboratory on the third floor. Hundreds of dazzling, white magic stone lamps overhead shone so brightly they made his eyes swim.

In the center of the hall stood four massive, vertical experimental platforms. Their silver manipulator arms held strangely shaped metal parts that gave off an indescribable, bizarre feeling. With their limited knowledge, Sai Ke and the others couldn’t recognize a single one.

A dozen or so researchers, operating several alchemical beasts, were busily making preparations around the platforms.

Suddenly, a voice crackling with electricity echoed around them, seemingly from the alchemical loudspeakers on the ceiling and walls.

“Preparations are nearly complete. We can begin the fitting test.”

The lead director immediately walked over to the four men and ordered impassively, “Please remove all your clothes.”

Not daring to disobey, the four of them quickly stripped themselves bare. They awkwardly covered their lower bodies as they were pushed towards the vertical platforms.

“Please step up. Keep your hands down by your sides and your feet together. During the entire test, you must not move your body at will!”

Bale nodded blankly, looking to Sai Ke in the next station as if for help, only to see with a jolt that a researcher seemed to be installing a row of fine, sharp metal needles onto the manipulator arm.

“S-Sir, can you tell us what this test is for? Will it… will it be dang—”

Santas and Gregor were also trembling with fear, clenching their jaws but not daring to ask.

The alchemical loudspeaker on the ceiling crackled to life again, broadcasting a voice that was both familiar and unfamiliar, its deep tone imbued with a reassuring gentleness.

“My soldiers, do not worry… This is a simple test, one that is necessary to tailor-make your future combat weapons. Your safety is absolutely guaranteed. You only need to cooperate with all of the researchers’ instructions.”

The more Sai Ke heard the voice, the more familiar it sounded. A vague yet mysteriously magnificent figure surfaced in his mind… His eyes flew wide open, and he desperately turned his head in disbelief to look at his comrades, only to find them staring blankly, their mouths agape in shock.

“Is… is that Your Maj—”

“Silence! Test subjects are forbidden from speaking or causing a disturbance during the experiment!” the director hissed in a low voice.

Sai Ke immediately shut his mouth, but his heart was pounding uncontrollably… It was His Majesty. It was definitely His Majesty’s voice. Every new recruit, during their evening study classes, listened to the Recording Stone that contained His Majesty the Emperor’s speech on the philosophy of the people’s army and his words of hope and encouragement for the new recruits.

Although the speech was only a few minutes long, it was enough to leave a deep and unforgettable impression on these soldiers from common backgrounds for their entire military careers.

His Majesty was personally observing their test and had even spoken to calm their nerves…

Catching sight of Bale in the next station, his eyes already red with emotion, Sai Ke also roared silently in his heart—

Your Majesty, I’m not afraid! To serve the kingdom, to fight against the non-human race invasion… no matter what painful experimental modifications I have to endure, I will never back down!

Chapter 656: Demon Armor Deployment (Part 2)

In the spacious and brightly lit laboratory hall, four outstanding new recruits, stripped bare, each stood on a vertical operating platform. A group of lab technicians bustled about, applying a translucent, gel-like ointment to their heads, chests, and backs.

“You may feel a slight chill, but don’t worry. This is to block the pain and alleviate the discomfort you’ll feel when the energy conduits connect to your body…”

While reassuring Sai Ke, the director raised a hand to pull over a mechanical cantilever, precisely fitting a cybernetic component that closely resembled the contours of a human spine onto his back.

A fine, stinging pain instantly tensed Sai Ke’s nerves, but he still did his best to follow the director’s instructions and relax his stiff back muscles.

Two form-fitting breastplates closed and latched shut. The gel, which had felt cold to the touch just moments before, seemed to melt rapidly, seeping silently into his pores and forming a thin, protective membrane beneath his skin.

The director glanced at the energy reactor on the adjacent platform and gave a cold reminder, “Neural interface connection complete. We will now proceed with the installation of the individual components.”

The massive mechanical cantilevers descended again, and piece by piece, the disassembled armor components were methodically fitted together, gradually encasing Sai Ke’s naked body. The process continued until the final step… a heavy, full-coverage steel helmet, hoisted and transported by an alchemical beast, was slowly lowered onto Sai Ke’s head.

The metal clasps at his neck, waist, and limb joints automatically locked into place with a crisp clicking sound.

“Magicalized Armor fitting complete. Primary neural network connection is stable. Requesting permission to initiate soul fusion!”

After two or three seconds, Harvey’s calm, deep voice came through the alchemical communicator, “Begin fusion!”

Sai Ke, feeling as if his entire body had been sealed in an “iron coffin,” was suddenly struck by a bone-chilling cold that shot from his spine straight to his head. What made his scalp crawl even more was the sensation of some strange entity at the back of his head, constantly trying to squeeze through his solid skull and into his fragile brain.

Vague but utterly unfamiliar memory fragments kept flashing before his eyes. Although Sai Ke couldn’t make out any specific details, he was certain they were not his own experiences.

This uncomfortable feeling of being invaded and compressed made him instinctively recoil in revulsion. He immediately braced his tense mind and began to fight back against the “strange thing” lingering at the back of his head.

In a daze, he once again heard His Majesty’s gentle voice in his ears, 【Do not worry. There is no danger. You just need to lower your guard and cooperate with the experiment…】

His Majesty would never treat the lives of his loyal soldiers as a game…

Relax! Sai Ke! Stay focused! Lower your guard!

Whoosh—

He let out a long breath, completely relaxing his tense mind and opening up his mental defenses from the inside out. He accepted the psychic entity that had been eyeing him covetously for so long into his body.

…

The indicator light on the energy reactor flashed rapidly for a while before its frequency gradually slowed until it shone with a steady light.

The director and the other technicians present all breathed a collective sigh of relief. They turned toward the massive one-way glass observation window on the wall and gave a thumbs-up to signal the test’s success.

“New recruit Sai Ke! Can you hear my command? Please respond…”

The tearing sensation from the soul fusion and mental synchronization was gradually fading, replaced by a raw, surging power that filled his entire body. Sai Ke even had the unrealistic illusion that he could now easily defeat his instructor, who had two grafted alchemical prosthetics, with just one hand.

As for the frail, thin technicians standing before him, he could easily deal with them one by one with a single punch.

“New recruit Sai Ke! Answer my question immediately!”

Damn it, did something really go wrong? The soul fused with him was just that of a weak Ice-Eyed Beetle… there shouldn’t be a scenario where the host’s consciousness is overwhelmed. This man could even suppress a Bloodclaw Bear!

Just as the director made the snap decision to activate the defensive alchemical beasts guarding the laboratory hall, Sai Ke finally came to his senses. His muffled voice answered from within the heavy armor helmet, “Sir! I can hear your command!”

As he spoke, he subconsciously raised his right hand, habitually saluting by striking his fist to his chest.

Unexpectedly, his body, which had been tightly bound within the “iron coffin,” now moved with exceptional ease under his control. Several restraining straps that hadn’t yet been released instantly snapped, nearly pulling the vertical operating platform, which was welded firmly to the ground, off its moorings.

“Stop! Cease all movement! You are not to move in any way until you receive a command!”

Sai Ke quickly pulled back his hand. In his haste, his elbow swung back with another loud bang, leaving a terrifying dent in the operating platform forged from refined steel and magical minerals.

“S-sorry, Sir, I…”

His Majesty’s gentle voice sounded from above again. “How do you feel now? Is there any discomfort?”

Sai Ke’s body froze, not daring to move again. He didn’t know where His Majesty was observing the laboratory from, so he could only stare straight ahead and shout into the air, “Your Majesty! I feel great right now! Uh… extremely great! Even without the dream illusion, I feel like I could easily defeat a full-grown Bloodclaw Bear!”

After a light chuckle filled with amusement, the Emperor’s voice came again, “What a spirited young man. Alright… let’s not waste any more time. Although there’s no rejection reaction, the necessary checks must be completed.”

The director quickly complied. Holding a magic stone flashlight, he clambered up a small ladder to be at eye level with Sai Ke. Only then did Sai Ke realize that after equipping this miraculous magical armor, his body was now a full two times the director’s height, likely approaching three meters…

The crystal faceplate on the front of the helmet, which protected his eyes, was opened from the outside. A刺眼 white light swept back and forth across Sai Ke’s eyes, making him squint instinctively. He didn’t realize that his pupils had contracted into thin slits, more closely resembling the eyes of an insect.

“As expected, fusing soldiers with the souls of magically enhanced insects with weak souls has almost no chance of failure… especially since they’ve already undergone extensive mental training against powerful Demonic beasts.”

The director nodded with considerable satisfaction before climbing back down the ladder.

“Now… try to move your feet. Don’t take too large a step… yes! Just like that. Walk steadily!”

The heavy Magicalized Armor caused every step Sai Ke took to echo clearly throughout the massive laboratory, and even the floor vibrated slightly.

He carefully turned his head slightly and saw that Bale and the other two nearby seemed to have just passed their tests as well. Only then did he get a clear look at just how imposing and massive the Magicalized Armor fitted to their bodies was.

They stood nearly three meters tall, and their entire bodies were covered in thick armor that shone with the silver-gray luster of refined steel. Vital areas on the chest and back were even covered by multiple layers of armor plates engraved with strange inscriptions. These inscriptions even changed their strange colors in time with the breathing of the four men.

A dark red crystal faceplate was embedded in the front of the round helmet for the soldier’s visual observation. The joints at the shoulders, elbows, and knees were slightly raised into sharp points—a design clearly intended for close-quarters combat, allowing the soldier to use any part of their body to launch unexpected close-range attacks.

Compared to the magnificent knights of the Army of Judgment he had seen in the past, Sai Ke felt that only now, in his current state, was he worthy of being called a true knight!

An extraordinary knight forged from steel and magic, created by His Majesty’s own hand!

Chapter 657: Joint Venture

Bang—

Amidst the thunderous roar of several thousand spectators, a stout Dwarf weaved left and right, powerfully knocking aside two opponents blocking his path. He charged toward the end line like a wild bull and slammed the rugby ball into the basket.

The referee, drenched in sweat, rushed over and blew his bronze whistle with a series of sharp blasts.

“A goal for the Spellcaster Academy team! It’s good! One point!”

The spectator stands on all four sides of the field erupted into a storm of applause and cheers, showering the young non-humans on the field with praise and acclaim.

Steelbristle, who had just scored the clinching goal, ran a victory lap around the field, so excited he wished he had a tail to wag. Glistening beads of sweat clung to his thick beard. The Elven students, his teammates, set aside their usual attitudes and, without a hint of disgust, lifted him high into the air, tossing him toward the sky in celebration.

“This rugby game is absolutely thrilling!” Earl Haynes’s palms were red from clapping. He turned to his old friend Dickinson beside him and exclaimed with a laugh, “I never thought I’d live to see the day Dwarves and Elves put aside their prejudices and cooperate so seamlessly… Hahaha!”

Dickinson stifled a chuckle. “These students have been in the capital for so long they’ve shed their old biases and stereotypes. They’ve taken His Majesty’s ideals of racial harmony and equality to heart and have completely integrated into this new system.”

Ross, the staff officer sitting with them, glanced toward the heavily guarded high platform nearby. He thoughtfully tugged on Dickinson’s sleeve and gave both him and the Earl a meaningful look.

Dickinson immediately understood. He leaned close to the Earl’s ear and whispered, “There’s a fifteen-minute intermission before the next match. His Majesty has rarely graced a game with his presence. This is our chance… Ross and I will take you up for an audience.”

The Earl’s spirits lifted, but then he frowned with worry. “Wouldn’t that be too informal? What if His Majesty considers it impolite…”

But Ross shook his head with a smile. “You don’t know His Majesty. He prefers to discuss and handle official matters at any time and any place—on the road during inspection tours, during his daily meals… I’ve even heard that the Grand Steward, Lord Rainer, is accustomed to reporting to him in the morning right after he wakes up, while he’s still in bed.”

The Earl’s mouth twitched. “His Majesty is truly a most fascinating man…” he said with a wry smile.

…

Before the next match began, Harvey met with the renowned noble merchant from the old capital.

He studied the man for a moment before recalling that they had met once before, after the battle in Goldshine City… Back then, this dashing noble had held the esteemed title of Earl of the temporary residence.

Dickinson and Ross humbly explained the Earl’s reason for seeking an audience. Harvey nodded in understanding and asked directly, “Mr. Earl, you wish to acquire entry qualifications for the capital’s trade fair. That shouldn’t be too difficult… but what kind of goods do you plan to seek exclusive rights for?”

Harvey had long heard that the Haynes family’s merchant guild had been in the business of transporting sea salt in the Western Realm. He had always maintained a tolerant attitude toward nobles who abided by the law and knew how to size up the situation, never pushing them too hard.

However, the import of salt, sugar, and spices in the capital was handled exclusively by the Faros Royal Merchant Guild. The quality and price of their goods were considerably better than what the Haynes merchant guild could offer, giving the latter no competitive advantage whatsoever.

Although the Currency Abolition Decree and the new currency act promoted protectionism for the domestic market, Harvey would not show absolute favoritism when the quality of goods could affect his people’s quality of life… No one would dislike cheap, high-quality imported products.

But Earl Haynes was prepared for Harvey’s question. With utmost sincerity, he replied, “Your Majesty, my family’s traditional business… has been suffering from declining profits and sales due to issues with transportation and product quality. That is why I have swallowed my pride to seek an audience with you, hoping to obtain exclusive rights for a new commodity.”

He’s getting out of the sea salt business?

Harvey raised his eyebrows in surprise. It seemed this former Earl of the temporary residence was a farsighted and seasoned merchant… He was well aware of the state-run merchant guilds’ unwavering price-limiting strategy on cheap consumer goods. He was trying to proactively cut off a limb to survive, carving out a new category of trade before being completely squeezed out of the market.

“Heh, that is a wise choice… But to be frank, the members of the trade fair’s merchant alliance have already divided up most of the kingdom’s currently popular goods. Even if you were to suddenly jump in, I’m afraid you would find it difficult to achieve a satisfactory result.”

After all, the Haynes merchant guild was limited in scale. In a direct price war, even if they were willing to sacrifice profits, they stood no chance against the business tycoons who had long been cooperating with Harvey.

“No, no! Your Majesty, I do not intend to compete with your business partners… nor do I wish to disrupt the current harmonious atmosphere of the merchant alliance.” As he spoke, he took a silk handkerchief from his coat and carefully presented it to Harvey. “I wish to request the exclusive rights for the procurement and sale of ice silkworm silk… In return, I am willing to cede my family’s entire sea salt transport business to the state-run merchant guilds, if only you would permit me to open a silk textile factory in the capital and purchase ice silkworm silk directly from you.”

“Oh? And where did you hear about this?”

Harvey chuckled lightly, his casual glance at Ross and Dickinson causing the two men to immediately drop to one knee and plead for forgiveness in unison. “Your Majesty, please forgive us! We learned of it at the silk clothing shops in the Market District. As it didn’t involve any confidentiality regulations or national trade secrets, we… we thought it might be a potential path forward and disclosed it to His Lordship, the Earl.”

Legally speaking, they had not broken any laws or regulations. As staff officers for the Ministry of Defense, they had not revealed any professional secrets to an outsider in their private interactions. The news that the Agriculture Department had begun cultivating ice silkworms on a large scale was already common knowledge in the market, so it was not something worth Harvey’s anger.

“Rise. I have no intention of punishing you. Your actions were not improper,” Harvey said, his tone still gentle. He turned back to the Earl. “The yield of ice silkworm silk is low, and the finished silk products are expensive… How do you intend to guarantee its sales?”

“Your Majesty, I do not plan to use it to compete in the market for affordable clothing for the common people. Instead, I intend to target the upper-class nobles and wealthy merchants and gentry of the nations of the south. Only the capital has the ability to cultivate and produce ice silkworm silk. This scarcity cannot be replicated by any other merchant guild or workshop. Once it is introduced to the market, it will surely be snatched up by the rentier class, much like jewelry, perfumes, and secret elixirs.”

So he had already planned to enter the luxury goods market.

Harvey nodded in satisfaction and got straight to the point, laying out his conditions—

“First, I will grant you entry to the capital’s trade fair, but you will still have to bid for the exclusive rights to procure and sell ice silkworm silk. You must earn it with a sufficient price and show of sincerity.”

“Second, for the silk factory you open in the capital, my state-run merchant guilds must hold a fifty-five percent stake… But rest assured, they will not interfere in your business operations or the management of your merchant guild.”

“Third, the silk factory must prioritize hiring local citizens, providing at least one thousand five hundred jobs. All wages and benefits must also be implemented according to the standards of the state-run factories.”

Looking at Earl Haynes, whose face had grown a little pale as he broke out in a cold sweat… Harvey’s lips curled into a faint smile. “You don’t have to answer me right now. Go back and think it over carefully before you give me your reply.”

“Now, let’s talk about you selling your family’s sea salt transport business to me…”

Chapter 658: Codename “Ice Seal”

The next morning, as soon as Harvey stepped into the conference hall, Rainer, who had been waiting with a group of officials, led them in rising to salute him in unison.

After waving his hand to signal them to sit, Harvey went to the throne and sat down, asking directly, “Where is the Ministry of Defense’s operation plan? Present it…”

Pierce immediately stood up, took the thick stack of documents Astaren handed him, walked up the steps to the throne, and formally placed it on the table.

Harvey lifted his hand and opened the file, its cover marked with the large words [Top Secret]. As he quickly scanned through it, he addressed the officials sitting primly below without lifting his head, “The troop assembly and resource allocation at the Ice Sea front are nearly complete. The major, phased counter-offensive against the Demonic Lizardmen’s Main Keep Floating Island… is about to begin!”

The hall was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. All the high-ranking officials of the kingdom held their breath, listening intently as Harvey began the prelude to this long meeting.

“As for why I have always insisted on fighting these non-human enemies in the barren Ice Sea, nearly five hundred kilometers from the kingdom… I imagine most of you here no longer find it hard to understand.”

“You need only remember this: fighting our enemies beyond our borders, fighting them from a great distance away, will be the unwavering strategy of this new kingdom. Unless we are faced with an extremely dire and desperate disadvantage, we will never allow even a spark of war to spread to our homeland,” Harvey said resolutely. “To achieve such a goal, it is not enough to simply send our army to fight abroad. Once war breaks out, I demand that every department and agency in the kingdom, from top to bottom, every official and functionary drawing a state salary, must be on high alert. You must all maintain intense focus on the war’s situation, cooperate unconditionally, and face all hardships and obstacles together!”

“As you command, Your Majesty!” the officials below responded in unison.

“Also… for this year’s end-of-year assessment, I will be adding a special evaluation related to this counter-offensive campaign.” Harvey closed the file, winked at the officials whose expressions had suddenly frozen, and chuckled. “So, you must all perform well. Don’t let me think that some of you are merely incompetent fools who can only shout slogans and pledge loyalty.”

…

With that, Harvey turned to Pierce and Astaren. “I’ll leave the rest of the meeting to you. Give everyone a detailed explanation of the strategic policy and specific execution of this counter-offensive.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” Astaren and Pierce rose together and walked over to a large map of the ice sea region that had been prepared in advance. They each picked up a long pointer.

The regional map, as large as four conference tables, was actually only a third of the broader map of the northern and southern realms created by the cartography department. Centered on the Ice Sea Base, it covered most of the surveyable area within a radius of nearly five hundred kilometers. Compared to the more detailed map of the south, and the map of the barren lands—which was centered on the capital, Starfire City, and had no other towns besides the Eastern Expansion Base—this one appeared particularly simple and rudimentary.

It wasn’t that the cartography department had been careless or perfunctory. The truth was that besides a dozen or so permanently-active upwellings, the vast ice sea had very few landmarks worth mapping. One could pilot a floating Airship over the Icefields for a whole day and, aside from measuring distances… it would be difficult to spot even a single raised ice hill.

This was also something Harvey had deliberately instructed the cartography department to do. Any official who saw this map, then compared it with the map of the barren lands showing the capital’s location, would truly understand just how small the southern region inhabited by Humans was. It could truly be called the [Corner of the Continent], far from the ancestral lands of their people.

Sheltered by the Spine of the Continent Mountains—a natural barrier stretching for thousands of kilometers that separated the north and south—the Humans who had migrated and settled here were indeed like frogs in a well. Therefore, Harvey hoped his officials would not repeat the mistakes of the old, traditional noble politicians, but would instead broaden their horizons and adopt a more long-term perspective. This would also greatly slow the process of corruption and decay among the kingdom’s new elite.

Pierce spoke first, before Astaren, tapping his pointer firmly on the location of the Ice Sea Base. “First, we must be clear on one point: the upcoming counter-offensive is completely different from any battle we have experienced before. This is not a surprise attack or a blitzkrieg to be won quickly… It is a long campaign that could last a year, or even longer.”

The Ice Sea Base was isolated on the far northern Icefields, over four hundred and fifty kilometers from the capital. Its two closest strategic support points were the Great Bear Lake base, also deep in the barren lands, and the snowy mountain base, located at the border of the Land-Sea.

As Pierce’s pointer moved, everyone could clearly see that the three bases seemed to coincidentally form a near-perfect triangle on the map. The Ice Sea Base, at the forefront of the battle line, was the protruding apex at the very top.

The vast ice sea offered no strategic terrain for ambushes or surprise attacks. Beneath the thick ice lay a bottomless sea abyss, impossible to survey completely. Even if they deployed countless submarines, they could never fully determine how many submerged Floating Islands and enemy reinforcements were hidden within.

In this passive situation, the kingdom’s army and the Demonic Lizardmen were like pieces forced onto a flat chessboard. Aside from a direct, head-on confrontation, there were almost no other options.

Considering they currently held the advantage in mobility on both land and in the air, Harvey was still very confident of victory, as long as they could secure both the visible and hidden supply lines.

From the very beginning, the operational plan he and the General Staff had formulated had abandoned the fanciful notion of winning a decisive victory in a single battle. They had adopted a practical mindset, intending to leverage the kingdom’s growing military-industrial manufacturing capacity, its endless stream of war resources and fire support, to commit superior forces to a localized battlefield and engage the Demonic Lizardmen in a head-to-head showdown.

“Considering that the only enemy war fortress currently exposed is the Number Two Floating Island, it’s only natural… that we will choose to target it first.”

“If the assault drags on and other Floating Islands take this opportunity to appear, could the Ice Sea Base end up being besieged?” As the kingdom’s Steward, Rainer took the lead in voicing the question on everyone’s mind.

Astaren took the question, replying unhurriedly, “That is precisely why we are keeping some of our forces at the Great Bear Lake and snowy mountain bases. The three bases are no more than one hundred and fifty kilometers from each other. Two Airship Companies, each five hundred strong, will be enough to provide effective, immediate support to the Ice Sea front.”

Besides, the magical energy heavy cannons and anti-air beams at the Ice Sea Base were not just for show. In an emergency, there was also the long-range teleportation array to transport troops quickly. The nearly one thousand special operations Bloodline Warriors and an equal number of battle mages were not to be underestimated.

Attacking Number Two Floating Island was indeed an act of “spooking the target,” but they were not being forced into it… rather, they were “luring the snake out of its hole.”

Chapter 659: War Mobilization

“The best-case scenario is to start the war in early summer and successfully eliminate Number Two Floating Island, which stands in the ice sea, before the autumn harvest…”

“Then… what about the worst-case scenario? Have the Staff Department and the Military Command considered the worst-case scenario?”

Rainer’s usual gentle demeanor vanished. When faced with such a grave national issue, he became somewhat aggressive.

“The autumn harvest is a crucial annual event concerning the national economy and people’s livelihood. During that time, both the state-run farms across the country and the factories in the capital cities are in a special period of severe labor shortage and require three-shift rotations… Troop recruitment must be temporarily halted; it absolutely cannot affect the grain harvest.”

In addition to the Defense Force units stationed across the kingdom which required regular rotation, there was also a considerable number of basically trained farm-militia. These men served as the labor reserve for the state-run farms and were tasked with cultivating the large swaths of noble fiefdoms confiscated by the kingdom in the coming year, shouldering the vital responsibility of increasing grain production.

If the war effort faltered or casualties at the front became too high… mobilizing these men would directly impact agricultural production everywhere, severely slowing the grain production a mandate that had just been issued in early spring.

Pierce shrugged, speaking frankly, “If it really comes to that… by which I mean we fight from early summer to late winter without achieving any effective results, the situation will likely be beyond anyone’s control… We will throw every force we can mobilize onto the battlefield, and the home front will have to expand its military industry, abandoning many non-essential civilian manufacturing sectors.”

Minister of Agriculture Anbiki raised his hand tremblingly, his voice quivering, “Then… then how will we guarantee food production? Without rations, the soldiers can’t fight in the freezing ice sea!”

Astaren glanced at Harvey, who was seated on the throne. Seeing that His Majesty had no intention of speaking, he paused before slowly saying, “Then we’ll plunder it! St. Valen isn’t the only country in the south. It makes no sense for us to be fighting a life-and-death battle with non-human enemies at the front while they cower in the rear and reap the benefits, right?”

The always elegant chief advisor making such a shocking statement instantly stunned all the high-ranking officials present. For a moment, no one else dared to stand up and speak.

But Harvey coughed lightly at that moment and said flatly, “There’s no need to be surprised. It is as he said… So-called war mobilization requires achieving victory at all costs. Anyone who dares to block or hinder us from achieving our goal is an existence that needs to be swept away and erased.”

This did not just refer to certain dissenting nobles but encompassed the dozens of secular kingdoms large and small across the southern continent, as well as those reclusive supernatural organizations and Wizard Kingdoms.

And in the entire south, aside from the old Federation and the seven wizard kingdoms, there were indeed no other powers capable of helping them fight these non-human enemies… In a sense, they were indeed no different from sheep raised in one’s own backyard. When the time comes, it’s only natural to shear them for their wool.

Rainer moved his heavy mechanical body and sat back down in his chair, chuckling grimly, “If the war drags on indefinitely, fighting in the ice sea region during winter will be very disadvantageous for us.”

“If necessary, we will consider abandoning the Ice Sea Base and using the vast barren lands as strategic depth to lure them onto the mainland to fight us in the mountains and forests…”

Pierce paused, his expression stern. “A stalemate is not entirely to our disadvantage… After all, the Demonic Lizardmen’s reproduction and conversion speed shouldn’t be able to keep up with our production of bullets and artillery. Under absolute fire suppression, they are consuming their living clansmen, while we are expending steel and magical energy.”

Rainer nodded, understanding. He said in a deep voice, “In that case, I suggest Your Majesty increase the grain production plan initially drafted for this year by another twenty percent. At the same time, the Department of State will transfer an additional batch of grain reserves to the kingdom’s various provincial capitals in advance. The price of imported wheat will be allowed a ten percent markup to encourage the merchant guilds within the merchant alliance to actively supply us with grain.”

Harvey did not hesitate, nodding. “This suggestion is approved.”

Since the two Legendary Chiefs could not attend the meeting due to their sensitive status, Arturo and Spellshield, who were present in their stead, exchanged a glance and stood up together. “Your Majesty, the Academy of Sciences recommends suspending all civilian research projects for this quarter and the latter half of the year to focus entirely on the crucial work of updating our magical energy weapons!”

“The Alchemy Laboratory and the royal munitions factories will coordinate in sync, halting civilian research projects and going full steam ahead to produce bullets and shells.” Seeing his colleagues stand up one after another to show their resolve, Chris quickly raised his hand and chimed in.

Harvey nodded with satisfaction and said warmly, “Approved. Arrange it as soon as possible.”

Duncan, also one of the kingdom’s Chiefs, spoke last. “Your Majesty, the Spellcaster Academy, the Academy of Sciences, and the New Federation—these three important magical research departments—currently have many members actively applying to… be transferred to the ice sea front line to assist in combat. This…”

After the long string of approvals, Harvey nearly blurted out an approval out of habit. He froze for two seconds before asking, stunned, “Most of the members in these three departments are research-type Spellcasters. What are they trying to do, joining the fun at the front lines?”

Wouldn’t it be better for them to stay safely in the main base at the rear conducting “scientific research”?

Spellshield coughed awkwardly and stood up to explain, “They said, uh… Your Majesty has already developed Magicalized Armor that allows ordinary soldiers to cast spells. They’re afraid there will be no difference in ability between Spellcasters and ordinary people in the future, so to prove they still have some value, they…”

So they’re worried about being replaced and made obsolete… That’s why they’re so eager to prove their worth.

Harvey chuckled in spite of himself. “I will not approve this. Is there any aspect of our weapons research and development that isn’t short on manpower right now? If they’re really so idle their hands are itching, they can apply to join the new recruit training for the Magicalized Armor units and teach those raw recruits who haven’t yet fully mastered their supernatural powers!”

After this mild rebuke, Spellshield could only sit back down with a sheepish smile. In any case, their feelings and opinions had been subtly conveyed. Perhaps His Majesty would later choose to appease these disheartened individuals through other means.

As the meeting reached this stage, the important matters had more or less been discussed.

Harvey slowly rose from his throne, his tone solemn. “In summary, today’s meeting is both a discussion of this large-scale counter-offensive and a general mobilization for all levels of administrative departments throughout the nation. Merely destroying the enemy’s Number Two Floating Island is far from enough. In this long battle, we must do our utmost to destroy all of the enemy’s exposed effective strength. This is equivalent to depleting their war potential. When we finally achieve victory… that will be the moment our nation officially advances into the barren lands, to open up new territory for the kingdom, and for the human race!”

After he finished speaking, everyone immediately rose to their feet and saluted with a hand over their chest.

“Understood, Your Majesty!”

Chapter 660: Starfire Warriors

Starfire City, a secret training base tucked away in a corner of the capital’s Military Barracks.

“Bale! What are you doing? Pay attention to your balance during high-speed maneuvers! Every hole you smash into the playing field by falling down today, you’ll be filling yourself tonight!”

“Santas! Why aren’t you moving? Waiting to get hit? Or are you pretending to be a giant tin can?”

“Dammit! Gregor! Look at your own performance, even a Deep Rock Snail reacts faster than you!”

“Sai Ke! Uh… carry on!”

The instructor paused, the barrage of curses coming to an abrupt halt. He squinted his eyes and nodded slightly, shifting his gaze from Sai Ke to refocus his firepower on the other three.

Sai Ke took a deep, ragged breath. He reached up to press the clasp on his helmet, flipping open the crystal visor that covered his eyes. Gazing at the training-type alchemical beast lying before him, he curled his lips into a satisfied smile.

After they had been equipped with the Magicalized Armor, His Majesty had personally come to inspect this special operations squad, still less than one hundred men strong. He had offered the new recruits unstinting praise and encouragement, finally giving them the official name “Starfire Warriors”—the same name as the capital, Starfire City. One didn’t have to think hard to know what an immense honor it was.

Deeply motivated, the soldiers’ morale soared. They trained with desperate intensity every day and passed the Magicalized Armor implementation tests with flying colors, every man earning a suit of Magicalized Armor to call his own.

The group of four led by Sai Ke had been the first to pass the assessment. Their training scores had always been among the best, so their progress after receiving their armor far outstripped that of their comrades. They were fortunate enough to be picked by the instructor for promotions to squad leaders of their respective squads.

Today’s training on the playing field consisted of the four of them individually facing off against a massive training-type alchemical beast, allowing the other soldiers to observe and learn close-combat techniques in Magicalized Armor.

Unfortunately, the four squad leaders’ performances were somewhat disappointing. Aside from Sai Ke—who had undergone soul fusion with a Bloodclaw Bear, a beast possessing a Frenzy bloodline—no one else succeeded. By fully activating his armor, he could use his innate bloodline’s significant physical enhancement to overpower the alchemical beast’s attacks through sheer force. The other three were all locked in bitter struggles.

Their already unfamiliar close-combat skills, coupled with their incomplete mastery of the armor, prevented them from fully unleashing the power of their fused Demonic Beast bloodlines. Their innate magic was hit-or-miss. After just a few rounds, they were all sent flying by the alchemical beasts’ charges.

You could say Gregor was just unlucky. The Beast Soul he had fused with was a Barren Lands Demonic Wolf—a Demonic Beast whose individuals were typically weak but excelled at pack assaults and pursuit. Making him fight a one-on-one duel was unfair to begin with, so his failure was to be expected.

Bale, who had fused with a Demonic Fire Beast, specialized in unleashing scorching fire magic to attack enemies from mid-to-long range. Once an enemy got too close and he couldn’t create distance, forcefully casting a spell would only send both himself and his opponent flying. The craters blasted into the playing field by fireballs were proof of that.

The most miserable of all was, of course, Santas. The Serpent-Scaled Griffin was a massive flying Demonic Beast, but soul fusion didn’t grant him the ability to actually fly. The griffin’s sonic spell was a wide-area attack, so to avoid friendly fire, he didn’t dare use it at all. Besides serving as a “tin can” to take a beating, as the instructor put it, he had no other options.

After struggling for a little while longer, the three of them leveraged the formidable defense of their Magicalized Armor to endure until the alchemical beasts’ mana was depleted, finally ending the utterly humiliating training battle.

Gazing at the instructor’s chillingly cold face, the four men’s just-relaxed nerves tensed up again. A bad premonition rose in all their hearts.

Sure enough, the instructor skillfully drew a leather strap from his waist. Four fist-sized stones were flung out in succession, each one striking one of their steel helmets with pinpoint accuracy. Although the heavy force only left a faint white mark on the refined steel, the heads protected within buzzed from the intense metal resonance. They grew so dizzy they nearly threw up on the spot.

This unique method of “corporal punishment” was said to have been invented by General Pierce, a general of the Ministry of Defense and Commander-in-Chief of the army. It was later eagerly imitated by a host of instructors responsible for training new recruits. Flinging the stones tested one’s control of strength and relied on precise aim, all to achieve the goal of leaving the punished recruit “dazed, but not brain-damaged.”

“Your performance has been a real eye-opener for me…” The instructor put away his strap, his words completely merciless. “I can’t even imagine what a pathetic sight you’ll be on a real battlefield, fighting against the tide of Demonic Lizardmen.”

“Only Sai Ke successfully took down his target.” Before Sai Ke could even show a hint of pride, the instructor’s tone shifted, dousing him with cold water. “Of course, if he hadn’t accidentally shattered the energy core’s shield on the alchemical beast with a lucky punch, Sai Ke would have also been doomed to fail.”

Failure in a combat training mission meant one thing: after training, while the members of their respective squads could take off their heavy Magicalized Armor and head to the exclusive dining hall for a meal, the four of them would have to stay behind in the equipment room to clean and maintain every suit of armor. It was a miserable chore that would keep them busy late into the night.

Fortunately, the instructor had no intention of letting the other new recruits off the hook. “Next up are the regular soldiers. Pair up into groups of two for close-quarters combat. The first to knock down or pin their opponent three times wins. The losing side… will join your respective squad leaders in the equipment room to clean and maintain all the armor.”

A chorus of wails instantly erupted across the playing field.

These were all close comrades who had eaten and lived together for months. Although their combat strength in the Magicalized Armor was countless times greater than before, they were all still rookies, clumsy in their control of the armor and possessed of extremely poor fighting skills. A two-on-two “brawl between rookies” was the most painful form of torture.

Of course, no one wanted to follow their squad leader to clean armor on an empty stomach. After quickly forming groups, they faced their brothers-in-arms and, at the instructor’s command, launched merciless attacks.

Instantly, dust billowed across the playing field. The explosive clamor of metal and machinery crashing together, the dull thuds of iron fists smashing against refined steel plates, and the sight of various types of magic flaring from palms only to fizzle out an instant later… they used every trick in the book to defeat their opponents.

While the instructor was focused on the situation on the field, Bale sidled up to Sai Ke and asked in a low voice, “It’s not hard to trigger the Bloodclaw Bear’s Frenzy talent, but how do you manage to keep the ability active throughout the entire fight? Why does my Demonic Fire Beast soul keep disobeying my commands, making me unable to summon a Scorching Fireball at critical moments?”

Sai Ke thought for a moment, then pursed his lips. “I can’t really describe the feeling to you, since we all fused with different Demonic Beasts… but, once I’m inside the armor and have fused with the Bloodclaw Bear, I force myself to completely forget the difference between me and it. I imagine the two of us as a single entity.”

The difference between a person and a Demonic Beast… imagine them as a single entity?

Bale found it difficult to understand. A person was a person, a Demonic Beast was a Demonic Beast… how could one possibly forget the difference and truly become one?

Seeing Santas and Gregor approach as well, Sai Ke shared his thoughts sincerely, without any reservations. “Think about why His Majesty chose us new recruits as candidates for the Starfire Warriors… isn’t it because our soul energy and mental energy were on par with the Demonic Beast souls in the dream illusion?”

“So, the real key to mastering the Demonic Beast soul should be acceptance and fusion, not control and command.”

The Demonic Beast is me, and I am the Demonic Beast…

Chapter 661: The True Meaning of Transcendent

“Forget the idea of being human and start thinking of yourself as a ferocious demonic beast? Wouldn’t that make us no different from animals?” Bale, perched high on the shoulder of his Magicalized Armor, rambled on as he waved the steel brush in his hand.

Sai Ke shook his head in resignation, tossing aside a cotton swab soaked in lubricating grease. He explained patiently, “Imagine… I’m telling you to imagine becoming one with your matched demonic beast, not for you to actually live a savage existence.”

A few other new recruits, who were also being punished for their defeat in battle, gathered around and asked their squad leader, “Chief, how are we supposed to imagine this? There’s a world of difference between humans and beasts. I can’t even imagine myself on all fours, breathing fire.”

“That’s because your imagination is too shallow!” Gregor grumbled, feeling he had started to grasp the concept.

Santas immediately retorted, “Then you tell us how to imagine it more deeply. Do I have to eat and sleep with a Serpent-Scaled Griffin to figure out what’s on that stinking beast’s mind?”

Several other new recruits who had also merged with griffins roared with laughter. One of them chimed in, “What could that thing possibly be thinking about? Eating mutton for every meal… finding a female griffin to mate with, and staring at the eggs it laid!”

The equipment room erupted in a wave of laughter.

Gregor tapped a soldier from his squad on the head with an oily cotton swab, saying angrily, “What’s so funny? In tomorrow’s combat training, I’ll personally demonstrate… I’ll take down that alchemical beast the same way I did today, but faster.”

“Wanna bet?” Santas challenged.

“You’re on. Today was just a fluke. How about we see who can take down the target first?”

Seeing the two squad leaders getting competitive, the other soldiers immediately started to fan the flames. “A bet! How about the loser washes the winner’s underwear for a month?”

“Why don’t you bet that the loser has to go lick the dung of a Barren Lands Demonic Wolf?”

“Hey! Stop it. If you get the Instructor riled up, none of us will have it easy!” Sai Ke immediately stepped in to mediate. “What I’m thinking is… we’ve had the Demon Armor for so long, why hasn’t the Instructor ever equipped us with proper weapons? Is the Starfire Warriors’ combat style really limited to the iron fists of the armor and beast spells that fail from time to time?”

Everyone instantly fell silent. This question had, in fact, been perplexing all the Starfire Warriors for a long time. The Magicalized Armor was indeed extremely formidable in close-quarters combat and defense, but even if they mastered all hand-to-hand combat techniques and paired them with their increasingly proficient spell-casting abilities, it still felt like they hadn’t unlocked its full potential.

During their routine weekly academic classes at night, they had personally watched the magic stone recordings brought back by the reconnaissance airships.

The several major battles that had erupted between the Demonic Lizardmen and the vile orcs deep in the barren lands almost always involved nearly ten thousand troops from each side. On such massive battlefields, which could only be described as a bloody meat grinder, a small combat group like the Starfire Warriors… was no different from a drop of ink in the vast ocean. It would be difficult for them to have any decisive impact on the outcome of the war.

If not for His Majesty’s personal inspection and the praise and confidence he had clearly shown them, most of the soldiers would probably think that the role they would play on the future battlefield… was exactly as the Instructor had berated them.

A bunch of “iron canned goods” that could only take a beating.

After a long silence, the youngest soldier mumbled softly, “Who cares… At least compared to the other new recruits, we not only get to see His Majesty in person, but we also get the same salary as a regular officer. The mess hall provides customized meals with meat at every serving, and the infirmary even prepares magical potions for us from time to time to enhance our physique!”

They wouldn’t have even dared to dream of such treatment before.

An older new recruit chuckled. “See, the greenhorn is carefree. Doesn’t overthink things, just enjoys the good life first.”

Bang! The door to the equipment room was thrown open from the outside, and the Instructor’s voice echoed like a devil’s whisper.

“What’s all the racket? Isn’t maintaining and cleaning your armor enough to keep you busy? Or do you want an extra physical training session tonight?”

“Sir, we do not…” the soldiers immediately replied, their voices trembling.

Seeing that his intimidation had worked, the Instructor suddenly revealed a strange smile. “You’re getting off easy tonight. There are no academic classes scheduled… but there are some benefits for you to pick up.”

Benefits? The soldiers, who hadn’t even fully recovered from the pleasant surprise of having their academic class canceled, all stood frozen in place.

What benefits? A reward from His Majesty? Or a sudden, delicious extra meal?

Sai Ke keenly noticed that something was off about the Instructor… he spoke of giving them benefits, but his face wore a mocking and gloating expression.

Just as he thought, the Instructor’s next words revealed a truth that filled them with fear and despair.

“A squad of high-rank Bloodline Warriors from the Northern Army’s Special Operations Independent Regiment will arrive at the special training base tonight. They will personally don Demon Armor to conduct combat drills with you.”

At this point, a cruel smile touched the Instructor’s lips. “Weren’t you all feeling like you haven’t truly experienced being a transcendent being, even after becoming Starfire Warriors who can control Magicalized Armor? Now’s your chance… The Bloodline Warriors will be equipped with basic Demon Armor, merged only with the souls of weak demonic insects, to face off against you rookies, who are merged with powerful beast spirits. They’ll show you what it truly means to be transcendent!”

Truly transcendent… When Sai Ke heard those words, he felt his heartbeat overpower his surprise and fear. An eager desire to win flooded his entire body.

If… if I can truly merge deeply with the demonic beast’s soul, I might just be able to defeat an unarmed Bloodline Warrior who is only connected to a weak insect soul!

“Tidy up the equipment room, then assemble immediately in the underground training ground.” The Instructor’s icy gaze swept over them as he gave a warning. “And mark my words, no matter how badly you lose tonight’s special training, I don’t want to see a single one of you pissing your pants or begging for mercy. As your instructor, I can’t bear that humiliation!”

…

The underground training ground, located directly beneath the special training base, was a full thousand square meters in size. Sturdy, thick obsidian walls enclosed it on all four sides, and magic stone lamps embedded in the ceiling provided illumination as bright as day.

After the new recruits equipped their Magicalized Armor and assembled in the underground facility, a squad of Bloodline Warriors, also clad in Demon Armor, walked in with exceptionally heavy steps.

The Instructor, changing his usual stern demeanor, actually greeted the leading “iron can” with a beaming smile. “Sir Iron Head, it’s your first time in Demon Armor. Do you need some time to warm up and get used to it?”

A coarse laugh emanated from the Demon Armor, the tone exceptionally contemptuous. “Warm-up? Aren’t these raw recruits in front of us the best warm-up targets?”

“Dean, don’t worry! For the sake of our past as comrades, we won’t beat the crap out of your precious trainees.”

Chapter 662: A Merciless Thrashing

“Hahaha! Don’t worry, Dean, we’ll go easy on these new canned goods.”

The Bloodline Warriors, led by Iron Head, burst into roaring laughter, speaking up one after another to console their old comrade… Instructor Dean, like them, had once undergone the bloodline awakening ritual personally presided over by His Majesty the Emperor.

However, his luck wasn’t the best. He had failed to advance to the transcendent level. The failed ritual only granted him a minor increase in physical strength and reaction speed, which, upon his return to the Northern Army, was just enough for him to serve as a squad leader, leading mortal soldiers like himself to fight bravely against the enemy on the front lines.

His military career over the next few years left him wounded multiple times, and he finally lost both of his arms in the battle at Great Bear Lake while holding his position… Minister Egnor of the National Infirmary had personally performed the surgery, replacing them with a brand-new pair of alchemical prosthetics.

Ordinarily, Dean was indeed harsh and vitriolic toward these Starfire Warrior trainees, but deep down, he didn’t believe that mortal soldiers equipped with Magicalized Armor would be completely helpless against Bloodline Warriors. In fact, he hoped that mortals, with the aid of His Majesty’s wise creations, could stand on equal footing with these transcendent beings who had advanced through luck and fate.

In doing so, it would, to some extent, make up for the greatest regret of his life.

Hearing the undisguised ridicule and blatant contempt in his old comrades’ words, a smoldering fire ignited in Dean’s heart. He turned his head to look at the new recruits led by Sai Ke and the others, the meaning in his eyes self-evident—

Don’t any of you dare back down. Show these arrogant bastards the true strength of a Starfire Warrior!

Sai Ke and the others were already bristling with anger from the mockery. However, constrained by the gap in strength and rank, no one dared to talk back.

Who are they looking down on? Starfire Warriors were the cream of the crop, chosen from a hundred mortal soldiers. These Bloodline Warriors were just spouting arrogant nonsense, relying on their greater combat experience, seniority, and status!

Before Instructor Dean could even speak, the four squad leaders manipulated their Demon Armor and strode out from the ranks. They spoke in unison, “Instructor, permit us to represent the Starfire special operations squads in a tactical exchange with Sir Iron Head and his men!”

Their spirit wasn’t weak at all…

Dean nodded, a rare, gentle expression on his face as he encouraged them in a deep voice, “The sirs will pull their punches. Do your best to use the combat skills you’ve learned. Today’s special training will surely benefit you greatly!”

He paused, then emphasized heavily, “Remember, maintain absolute focus in battle!”

“Yes, Sir!” the four responded in one voice.

…

The spacious and bright training ground was immediately cleared of all non-essential personnel. The most hot-tempered of the group, Bale, was the first to lose his patience. He stepped forward before anyone else, walked to the center of the field, and gave the Bloodline Warriors a fist-to-palm salute. His voice rumbled, “We ask for the sirs’ guidance!”

Iron Head pursed his lips and didn’t answer. His comrade, Spider, walked up from behind him and stood opposite Bale. “Then I’ll be the one to instruct you on close-quarters combat… A quick fight is fine by me. The thought of wearing this tin can makes me feel claustrophobic.”

At the side, Dean suddenly had a bad feeling. Spider’s bloodline talent was Agility, a natural counter to Bale, who had fused with a Demonic Fire Beast. Bale’s specialty was mid-to-long-range attacks with the Scorching Fire spell. If his opponent managed to evade him and close the distance, his abysmal close-quarters combat skills would leave him with almost no way to fight back.

“As per our prior agreement, a victor is decided if one is knocked down or successfully restrained for five seconds!”

Spider chuckled from behind his steel helmet. “No problem, but I bet he won’t even be able to touch my Demon Armor…”

Dean shook his head helplessly and said, “Begin!”

Bale was trying to muster his energy to accelerate the armor’s soul fusion process when he heard his opponent’s merciless taunt. His mind, already stained with fragments of the Demonic Fire Beast’s memories, was already irascible, but now it was instantly ignited. With his ferocity triggered, he let out a screech that was barely human from behind his thick steel helmet!

“Roar—ah!”

He stomped his feet, one behind the other, on the ground. The polished flagstones cracked under the invisible, immense force, forming a spiderweb pattern. With an inhuman roar rumbling in his throat, he charged straight at his opponent.

Although it was only a one-on-one fight, the sheer presence of the nearly three-meter-tall, all-metal Demon Armor charging at full speed was still incredibly oppressive. Bale seemed to have forgotten his most proficient skill, spellcasting, and instead chose to engage his opponent in close combat.

A series of sharp intakes of breath sounded from the sidelines. Everyone thought he must have lost his mind to the Beast Soul, playing to his weakness and handing his opponent the advantage.

Only Sai Ke and Instructor Dean, who were familiar with his personality, keenly noticed the faint, dark-red glow emanating from Bale’s rapidly swinging fists—the familiar sign that he was accumulating mana to cast the Demonic Fire Beast’s Scorching Fire spell.

He intended to use the violent explosion from a point-blank fire blast at the very moment he closed in, a pyrrhic tactic to “perish together with the enemy”!

In a flash, Bale rapidly closed in on Spider. He raised his arms in an attempt to grab his opponent’s shoulders while simultaneously raising his left knee to slam it into his opponent’s abdomen. He unleashed the scorching fire and the knee strike at the same time. At such a face-to-face distance, he was confident his opponent couldn’t possibly dodge.

Unfortunately, things didn’t go as planned.

Spider, who had been standing still the whole time, suddenly ducked. Bale’s flaming palms immediately grasped at empty air. Then, flexing his knees… Spider launched himself into the air from a standstill in a posture a normal person couldn’t even imagine, leaping clean over Bale.

The thunderous crash of heavy armor landing echoed behind him. Bale knew this was bad. Just as he was about to twist his body to turn, the peripheral vision of his sideways glance caught an iron arm sweeping fiercely toward his neck.

BAM!

The joint connecting the Demon Armor and the helmet was struck with a heavy blow. Bale felt as if a sledgehammer had viciously slammed into his temple. He lost control of his balance and staggered, toppling to the side. But the scorching fire he had gathered in his fists had reached its critical point for release. Just as it was about to erupt and engulf them both in flames, Spider struck.

He had long anticipated this “perish together” follow-up move. Without even waiting for Bale’s body to crash to the ground, he lifted his right leg with unparalleled speed and kicked him, sending him flying.

Bale flew four or five meters before the fiery explosion was triggered, instantly enveloping his entire body.

Sai Ke and Gregor rushed over and dragged him out of the lingering smoke and embers. The mottled scorch marks on his Magicalized Armor made him look as if he’d been tossed into a furnace, charred and in a wretched state.

At the spot on his neck that had suffered the sweeping blow, the outer armor forged from refined steel and magicalized metal was actually slightly dented, a testament to the immense power behind Spider’s strike.

Sai Ke ripped off Bale’s helmet. He wasn’t in any mortal danger, but he had been knocked unconscious by the triple shock of the two heavy blows and the explosion. What was rather humiliating was that his pale face was covered in a mess of snot and saliva.

Chapter 663: A Thirst for Battle

CRASH!

The third to go, Santas, crashed heavily onto the hard ground. His fate wasn’t as miserable as Bale’s, but he was pinned down by his opponent, who was also clad in Demon Armor, with a left foot pressed firmly on his chest. No matter how he struggled, he couldn’t get up.

The Bloodline Warrior he fought struck with overwhelming force in every close-quarters exchange, giving him no chance to recklessly unleash his sonic shockwave. Moreover, his opponent seemed to have an uncanny ability to read his mind—every feint and follow-up was defended against and countered with pinpoint accuracy. In less than three minutes, he was completely dominated.

The only consolation… was perhaps that he lasted half a minute longer than Bale and Gregor.

Scrambling up from the ground, he saw Instructor Dean’s face was incredibly grim. If the top performers of the squad couldn’t even last more than a few moves against these Bloodline Warriors, the rest of the soldiers stood no chance of gaining any advantages.

This didn’t just mean their training results were unsatisfactory… If word got out, everyone in the army would probably think the Starfire Warriors, in whom His Majesty had placed such high hopes, were nothing but a bunch of “embroidered pillows” in tin cans. Losing face themselves was one thing… but for His Majesty to lose face would be a disaster.

Looking at Sai Ke, who was steeling himself to go last, Instructor Dean advised him patiently, “Stay focused! They’re stuck in tin cans just like you, unable to use their strongest bloodline abilities through the Demon Armor. In a way… the Beast Souls you’ve fused with actually give you an advantage. Try to fight evasively, create some distance, and then suddenly activate your Bloodclaw Bear’s Frenzy.”

The instructor was clearly telling him to bait his opponent and then launch a surprise attack, to see if he could catch him off guard.

Sai Ke made a fist and raised a thumb to show he understood, his voice buzzing from behind his steel helmet, “Don’t worry, Instructor. I’ll give it my all to tie him up.”

He couldn’t bring himself to say he would defeat his opponent… Compared to the previous Bloodline Warriors, the man he was about to face was His Majesty’s personal guard and adjutant, Major Iron Head. He was one of the first powerful high-ranks to be gifted a bloodline by His Majesty, and his prestigious name was known throughout the Northern Army.

To have the honor of a practical drill with such a figure would surely be a great learning experience.

…

“Please, Sir, your guidance!”

Sai Ke stepped into the center of the training area and, from three or four meters away, clasped his fist in a salute to the major, who was also ready.

Iron Head let out a few buzzing laughs and said lightly, “Come on! Show me everything you’ve got. Let’s see just how much potential and talent this newly formed special operations squad has.”

With that, he raised one hand to his chest and made a taunting gesture at Sai Ke, beckoning him to fight… It had to be said that these Bloodline Warriors, who had honed their skills in the army for so long, were masters at infuriating and unsettling their opponents.

Sai Ke took a deep breath, but instead of being provoked, he felt unusually calm.

In just a few seconds, all the perilous battles from his past flashed through his mind… some were his own memories, and others belonged to the fused Beast Soul.

The Bloodclaw Bear, a demonic beast that wasn’t particularly rare in the depths of the barren lands, didn’t possess innate magic. However, the explosive power boost from its Frenzy bloodline enhancement easily placed it at the top of the barren lands’ food chain, ranking it among the extraordinary species of demonic beasts.

After activating the Frenzy bloodline, Sai Ke could not only control his Demon Armor to unleash several times its usual strength for a short period, but his reaction time and agility would also increase in sync. The downside compared to Bale and the other two… was probably that this enhancement couldn’t be used multiple times at opportune moments like a spell. Once activated, it had to be maintained with his own mental energy.

With his current ability, Sai Ke had no problem maintaining the Frenzy amplification for about a minute, which was why the instructor had told him to feign weakness and fight evasively before seizing an opportunity to launch a surprise attack.

“Let’s begin!”

Sai Ke didn’t rush his opponent. Instead, he controlled his Demon Armor to take a half-step back, assuming a defensive stance.

Iron Head snorted, closing the distance in two quick steps. He leaned forward, dipping his right shoulder slightly… Sai Ke instantly knew he was going for a tackle, one of the most common moves in army training.

Without accidentally injuring the new recruit, it was indeed the best way to take him down quickly.

Of course, Sai Ke had no intention of being controlled from the first exchange. Close-quarters combat meant losing any chance to fight back… The Bloodline Warrior’s superior combat skills and vast experience would ensure he was quickly taken down or pinned, his fate no different from the three before him.

In a flash, he bent one knee, twisted his body, and took two consecutive sidesteps backward, narrowly avoiding the iron grip reaching for his shoulder.

But his opponent changed his move in an instant. Using the grappling motion of his left hand as cover, his right fist silently shot toward Sai Ke’s ribs.

Fortunately, the punch seemed to hold back a lot of its power, mostly serving as a probe… Sai Ke staggered back several steps but managed to keep his balance.

Unlike the previous three fights, he hadn’t chosen to go all out from the start. Instead, after dodging a tackle and taking a moderate punch, he opted to retreat and evade.

Iron Head, of course, knew what he was up to. With a fierce grin, he pushed off with his legs. His thick metal limbs cracked the floor as his entire body shot toward Sai Ke like a shell.

At such a close distance, Sai Ke knew he couldn’t dodge with skill anymore. He was lucky just to react in time to turn his body and avoid the most lethal part of the impact.

The protruding spike on the Demon Armor’s elbow scraped across his chest plate, sending a shower of sparks scattering in all directions. Having successfully closed the distance, the Bloodline Warrior aimed every blow at the weak points of Sai Ke’s Demon Armor… Blocking the first strike immediately led to a follow-up attack that had long been lying in wait. The relentless, storm-like assault left him unable to parry. The loud thuds of iron fists hitting his armor echoed throughout the training ground.

If his opponent hadn’t been holding back, he would have already been defeated by the concussive force from his damaged armor.

Another lightning-fast punch came hurtling toward Sai Ke’s shoulder. He twisted just enough to dodge it, but his opponent’s fist turned into a palm that clamped down on his left arm. Using the momentum of Sai Ke’s own movement, Iron Head twisted him around, and his right arm silently wrapped around his neck.

The immense pressure on his shoulder and neck made it clear to Sai Ke that his opponent intended to end the fight with a standing submission.

But the moment he had been desperately waiting for had finally arrived!

From within his helmet, Sai Ke let out a sudden roar mixed with a beastly cry. His right arm, which had been defensively in front of his chest, forcibly broke free of the hold. It shot up high and then drove down with immense force, aiming for his opponent’s ribs from behind… Whether by coincidence or by design, the spike on his elbow jammed straight into the seam of his opponent’s Demon Armor.

And that was precisely where, aside from the main spinal neural connector, the alchemical actuators and hydraulic tubes that drove the upper limbs were located.

The engine oil used to lubricate the Demon Armor’s internal components immediately sprayed out, pooling on the floor.

“Smart kid!” Iron Head clearly felt the delay and stiffness in his arm and shoulder from the damaged actuator. Going with the flow, he released his hold. Then, in the instant Sai Ke tilted forward from the sudden imbalance, he brought up his knee and struck him precisely at the joint of his back plate.

Without the protection of Demon Armor, that spot would be right over a person’s fourth and fifth vertebrae.

Clang—

Sai Ke, his body rigid, fell to his knees with his back to Iron Head and slammed face-first onto the ground.

The instructor rushed over, taking two steps at a time, and removed his helmet. He found that besides being pale and drenched in sweat, Sai Ke had no other injuries.

Although he was still defeated in the end, he had managed to inflict considerable damage on his opponent. Compared to the first three, his performance was exceptional.

Chapter 664: The Non-human Race’s Reaction

One week later, at the Ice Sea Exploration Base.

The commanders and staff officers who had been arriving at the front lines gathered together, crowded around the large tactical sand table in the center of the conference room. They compared it with the map on the wall, engaged in a heated discussion.

As the foremost front line that would bear the brunt of the enemy’s attack once the battle began, the Ice Sea Base was an unsecured area most likely to be ambushed and besieged during a protracted war.

Originally, Harvey had intended to set up the command post at the Snowy Mountain Base or the Great Bear Lake Base, which were closer to the capital.

However, in a rare turn of events, he was met with opposition from the vast majority of officers who had personally experienced life-and-death battles on the front. They believed that being at the front lines would not only allow them to get the latest battlefield intelligence in real-time but also enable them to react and adjust to changes in the situation most quickly. Hiding in the rear and pointing fingers was not a time-honored tradition of the Northern Army; fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with the soldiers was the only way to ignite their ferocity and courage.

Seeing that even the usually mild-mannered staff officers insisted on this course of action, Harvey could only reluctantly agree.

Fortunately, Lord Dawson took the initiative to propose that he too would go to the front lines to coordinate the battle. Ostensibly, he wanted to see for himself how Harvey’s magical army fought, but in reality, he was there to hold the line and boost morale on Harvey’s behalf.

The Legendary Chief himself was on the front lines, fighting the enemy alongside the soldiers… What was there left to fear?

The only slightly vexing thing… was probably that while the Chief Excellency was amiable, his habit of getting to the bottom of every single matter left the officers and staff weary from having to constantly answer his queries.

“Why are there so many squares drawn on the map?”

“Why are the squares marked with different colors?”

“And what does this forked route leading to the Great Bear Lake and Snowy Mountain Bases represent?”

The Chief Excellency really doesn’t understand anything about military campaigns at all… Dickinson sighed helplessly, bringing a hand to his forehead as he shot his colleague Ivan a meaningful look.

Ivan immediately understood. He led the little old man with the red nose to the side of the sand table and, without interrupting the formal meeting, began a private Q&A session—a bit of “special training.”

“Chief Excellency, this thick line that starts from the River Valley Outpost Base, passes through the Tafuta Highlands, and then extends separately to the snowy mountain and Great Bear Lake… is actually the barren lands railway that’s currently under construction!”

“The areas along the railway’s route have been divided by us into squares of equal area. Green indicates that the area has been cleared, and a corresponding railway station will also be established there.”

Dawson nodded in sudden realization. This setup looked remarkably similar to the Demons’ deployment in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, with several supply lines leading directly to their front-line command center and transfer outposts built along the way to ensure smooth passage within a given sector.

The yellow squares, on the other hand, indicated that the area was not yet secure. The vile orc tribes and beast packs entrenched there had not yet been exterminated and cleared out. They needed to advance step by step according to the plan until all the squares along the railway were changed to a new color.

And closer to the Great Bear Lake, snowy mountain, and Ice Sea front, deep red squares began to appear… Unquestionably, this represented signs of Demonic Lizardmen activity. The closer it got to the vicinity of Number Two Floating Island, the more vivid the red became, making one’s heart sink.

Just as he was pondering this, the Son of Flame suddenly pushed the door open from outside the conference room. Looking invigorated, he gave everyone a standard military salute.

The officers and staff all rose to their feet and returned the salute with smiles. It seemed the explosive-tempered Fire Mage was quite popular among the army’s high command.

“Colonel Hoden, you called a meeting via communicator while you were still on your way back from reconnaissance. Did you discover some new enemy movement?” Staff Officer Ross asked, getting straight to the point.

The Son of Flame nodded with a hint of resignation and said in a low voice, “Those non-human monsters are digging trenches…”

“Digging trenches?” Everyone was stunned. “What kind of trenches? Are they trying to widen the ice layer to increase the surface area of Number Two Floating Island?”

“No… The Demonic Lizardmen constantly spray and ignite black water around Number Two Floating Island to keep the troop transport channels underneath it from freezing over.” Ferr shook his head, patiently explaining. “The first to spot the anomaly was the reconnaissance airship squad that went to the area this morning. They personally witnessed a large number of enemies on the ice, using tools formed from solidified black water to dig rapidly into the surface. Piles of large ice blocks were stacked next to the crisscrossing trenches.”

Vaughn’s brow furrowed, and he instantly realized, “They’re digging trenches! They’re imitating us!”

The Son of Flame nodded. “Correct, I thought so too… so I immediately set out to investigate myself. But it seems they aren’t digging standard transverse and longitudinal trenches. Instead, they’re digging a messy, spiderweb-like network, trying to extend it far out in all directions.”

As he spoke, he pulled over a blank sheet of paper and, with a few rough strokes, sketched out the scene he had witnessed.

The officers and staff gathered around and immediately noticed the difference… these trenches were primarily longitudinal, with very few transverse ones. They didn’t look at all like temporary fortifications built for defense.

“Why so many longitudinal trenches? To defend against our artillery and aerial bombardments, shouldn’t they be building more transverse trenches?”

Dickinson suddenly realized what was wrong. “No!” he said, it dawning on him. “It’s not for defense, it’s for offense!”

The Demonic Lizardmen intend to use the endlessly extending longitudinal trenches to evade bombardment from artillery and aerial bombs, allowing them to rapidly close in on the Northern Army’s lines and engage the front-line soldiers in close-quarters combat!

“The learning and imitation abilities of these non-humans are in no way inferior to their talent for rapid evolution…” Vaughn slapped a hand down on the sketch paper, his brow furrowed as he spoke grimly.

Longitudinal trenches can not only effectively shield them from long-range bombardment, reducing casualties as they advance, but also allow them to dodge rifle and machine gun fire during close-quarters combat. This would give them the opportunity to engage the Northern Army in a firefight from within the range of their black water weapons.

And that’s not all! If they’ve also been secretly digging tunnels under the ice, they could potentially sneak up on the artillery positions behind the front lines completely undetected and deliver a fatal blow to the Northern Army’s most crucial offensive firepower.

“How should we respond?”

“The Bloodline Warrior Spec Ops squad has to remain at the rear positions to guard against surprise attacks from beneath the ice…”

“The anti-air beam cannons need to be moved to the front line. I’m worried the Winged ones will also use the trenches to get close, and then launch a sudden aerial assault after they’ve assembled.”

“The artillery and aerial units must keep a close watch on those Conch Beasts. Their outer armor is even tougher than the Floating Island fortress. If they push to the front, they could break through the weaker points in our defensive line.”

Everyone present knew the Demonic Lizardmen like the back of their hand. After a bout of discussion, countering each move with a countermove, they quickly formulated a coherent response plan. They did not fall into disarray because of the enemy’s sudden actions.

Dawson listened from the side with a gentle smile, thinking that this group of officers, most of whom were ordinary mortals by birth, were at this moment shining with a wisdom and confidence that rivaled that of transcendent beings.

“Gentlemen, I have a small suggestion… if it doesn’t interfere with your tactical deployment, might we give it a try?”

The Chief had taken the initiative to make a suggestion. Everyone immediately fell silent, ready to listen intently.

Chapter 665: The Poisoning Ploy

“Chief Excellency, His Majesty invited you to the front lines to supervise the battle precisely because he wanted you to offer us more of your suggestions… please do not hesitate to guide us.”

Vaughn, despite being the front-line Commander-in-Chief for Operation “Frozen” and the nominal supreme commander of the army, showed the Legendary Mage the utmost respect, his expression earnest and ready to listen.

Dawson rubbed his nose, finding the rugged-faced half-orc quite agreeable. He chuckled lightly, “It’s quite simple. Over the past few days, the ice fortress sentry posts near the base, as well as the reconnaissance airships on their daily patrols, have captured many live Demonic Lizardmen, haven’t they?”

Seeing everyone listening quietly with puzzled looks, the old Mage continued with a grin, “As far as I know, no matter what methods of torture or testing we use, we have never been able to decipher their method of communication. These damned things don’t utter a single word. In essence, they most likely use mental energy or something similar to a hive mind, communicating through a mental stream that ordinary people cannot hear or understand.”

Mental stream? Vaughn was completely at a loss when the Son of Flame’s deep voice suddenly echoed in his mind. “What I am using on you now is mind-speech, a form of pure mental communication between Spellcasters. A high-rank warrior like you, who has awakened your bloodline power, can also perceive it. Heh… can’t His Majesty the Emperor, your Bloodline Progenitor, also communicate with you individually through this kind of silent messaging?”

Vaughn glanced around and realized that, indeed, no one other than Legendary Chief Dawson and the Fire Mage Hoden, who stood across the sand table, had heard the voice that resounded in his head. Understanding dawned on him.

“I understand now. But even if we’ve figured out their communication method, we can’t possibly decipher its fundamental content in a short time. Obtaining first-hand intelligence will still be difficult.”

Dawson shook his head with a faint smile and said calmly, “No, I don’t intend to decipher their language. I merely plan to conduct a small experiment… If I can successfully invade their mental bodies, bypass their magic-resistant hides using a unique method, and introduce a virulent plague into their individual realms of consciousness… then release them back in batches, once they return to the Floating Island, these freed captives will surely be eager to communicate with their respective leaders. The plague will then spread rapidly through the mental stream, directly igniting the entire Floating Island.”

Introduce a plague into their minds and consciousness?

The officers present were completely bewildered. How could something as intangible and formless as the soul become a carrier and breeding ground for a disease, let alone one that could cause a large-scale infection.

The Son of Flame immediately understood and explained on Dawson’s behalf with a smile, “I’m sure you’ve all heard of Chief Excellency’s famous Soul Siphon. I won’t go into the details of a Spellcaster’s methods, but you can think of it as a special kind of intangible curse. The only difference is that this thing is contagious.”

“Then what are the effects of this curse-plague?” Dickinson asked cautiously.

“If we want it to spread over a wide area, it can’t directly kill the infected targets. But… it can cause them to become confused and slow-witted without them even realizing it. Over time, it can even induce hallucinations. If we release it before the battle begins, I believe that when the two sides engage, you will see the comical sight of many enemies who have lost their minds suddenly attacking their own comrades on the battlefield.”

He said its power was limited, but it sounded incredibly insidious… Dickinson and Ross exchanged a glance, both seeing a hidden fear in each other’s eyes.

The methods of Spellcasters were truly uncanny, and Legendary Casters were not to be trifled with.

Vaughn, however, wasn’t overthinking it. He bowed to Dawson with an excited expression and said, “This is a brilliant way to disrupt the enemy’s offensive! Chief Excellency, we don’t need to ask for His Majesty’s permission. Please, proceed with your experiment!”

…

After finalizing the first phase of the operational plan, Vaughn and his staff officers quickly traveled via the base’s medium-range teleportation array to the Snowy Mountain Base, one hundred and fifty kilometers away.

The Snowy Valley Highlands, once a settlement for refugees from the barren lands, had now undergone a dramatic transformation under the engineering team’s efforts. Dozens of long-range teleportation arrays had been installed inside huge tunnels excavated into the mountainside to guard against potential attacks from the Winged ones.

Across the flat valley floor, cement fortifications had been erected everywhere, completely enclosing the massive airship landing field at the center.

The Snowy Mountain Base didn’t station a large number of Army troops. Instead, it housed nearly a thousand combat airships of various types, along with an equally large number of Aerial Combat Mages dispatched directly from the capital.

In a sense, this was more of an “Air Force Base,” or a Mage war fortress like Blackstone City, built entirely to meet the dual needs of aerial combat and multi-point support. The geographical location and its advantages in terms of line of sight were nothing short of perfect.

Led by the Son of Flame, Vaughn took an airship to the ruins of the beacon tower at the summit of the snowy mountain. As instructed by His Majesty Harvey, he and the other officers paid their respects to this ancient structure, which represented the primeval ancestors’ guardianship over their people. Afterward, they returned to the camp below, summoned the Spellcaster officers of the Aerial Combat Mage Independent Regiment, and immediately began their intensive tactical planning.

“Based on the areas we’ve currently searched, after the counter-attack on Number Two Floating Island begins… which are the most likely upwellings where the enemy might appear?”

The Son of Flame had placed model pieces representing airships all over the gridded map. However, to the northeast of Upwelling Number 13, where Number Two Floating Island was located, he had added a deep red, empty square. The square was completely barren… indicating that their aerial reconnaissance had not yet reached this area.

Vaughn narrowed his eyes and said, somewhat uncertainly, “This is Upwelling Number 17? It’s about fifty kilometers from Number Two Floating Island. Why wasn’t the reconnaissance and mapping completed along the way?”

Stormwalker Matthews Willy shook his head with a hint of helplessness and sighed, “The situation near Upwelling Number 17 is extremely unusual. It seems to be due to intense molten spring activity at the bottom of the ice sea. The upwelling erupts frequently, about once every fifteen minutes. As soon as the scorching seawater breaks the surface, it’s immediately condensed into a thick white mist by the cold air. With zero visibility, the airships don’t dare to get close enough to conduct reconnaissance.”

“So this is our primary suspect. It’s close to Number Two Floating Island… and if a new enemy floating island were to appear here, it could form a pincer attack, striking our Ice Sea Base from two sides.”

The Son of Flame pondered for a moment before taking the initiative to suggest, “Since aerial reconnaissance is impossible, I recommend dispatching high-rank battle mages to fly in directly and explore the area from the ground. At the very least, they could set up some early warning devices…”

“That’s too dangerous!” The staff officers shook their heads in unison. High-rank battle mages were indeed powerful and swift, but if they faced thousands of ambushers who were already prepared, and were hampered by the magic-resistant hides, it would be difficult for them to retreat unscathed once they were caught in the enemy tide.

His Majesty has always shown the highest level of respect and provided the best treatment for this group of high-level Mages, who voluntarily left the old Federation and their family organizations to join the United Kingdom as individuals, fighting alongside mortals against the non-human races. If he were to find out that the command headquarters sent them on such a high-risk mission just to perform basic scouting duties, there would surely be a severe reprimand.

“Let’s activate the alchemical beast unit… Have those little guys sneak into the sea of mist at the upwelling and complete the reconnaissance without alerting anyone.”

Vaughn thought for a long time before finally deciding to use the “Soul Crystal” that His Majesty had entrusted to him before his departure… According to His Majesty, the number of micro alchemical beasts brought along this time was just over one hundred thousand. Deploying them for a large-scale battle wouldn’t be enough to turn the tide, so it would be better to use them in other ways, where they could achieve more unexpected results.

Chapter 666: A Bizarre Enemy Attack

At dawn one week later, as a reconnaissance airship flew into the first light over the Icefields, arriving within a twenty-five-kilometer radius of Upwelling Number 13, the lead rapid reconnaissance squad immediately detected unusual enemy movements.

Under the cover of a crisscrossing network of trenches, large numbers of ordinary Demonic Lizardmen warriors swarmed within, like hundreds of streams of black water flowing from the Floating Island, slowly advancing toward the Northern Army’s early warning position fifty kilometers away.

The ice fortress sentry post near Number Two Floating Island had long been evacuated for safety reasons, so no one had noticed the enemy’s unusual activity during the night before the airship’s arrival. By the time the forward command post received the urgent report, the non-human race had already crept close to the early warning position.

Shrill, piercing alarms blared across the entire position. The well-prepared soldiers took less than ten minutes to assemble for battle. The anti-air weapons and artillery in the rear were also ready. A total of one thousand five hundred soldiers from three battalions entered the highest state of pre-combat alert, in accordance with the army’s emergency protocols.

Everyone knew in their hearts that a great battle was about to erupt at any moment!

Wayne and Dav were also holding their ground on the early warning line, stationed in a command post half-buried several meters underground, repeatedly sending communication requests to the Ice Sea Base in the rear.

“Have all the soldiers entered their designated combat zones?”

“Keep a close watch on the movements of the Winged ones’ air units! Until they come out to draw our fire, those ordinary warriors hiding in the ice trenches won’t show themselves!”

“Have you made contact with the rear base yet?”

“Reporting, Sir! We have a reply from the rear base. The combat airship squads are assembling. The Commander orders us to hold our position and wait for reinforcements…”

The command post was filled with the overlapping shouts of officers and soldiers, seemingly in a state of extreme chaos and tension. In reality, however, order had not been lost. Everyone was methodically holding their posts according to the established plan.

All the half-buried bunkers had roofs made of several thick layers of hard ice. The floors, however, were unusually laid with welded plates of cast iron and refined steel composite. This was an effective countermeasure designed to prevent the enemy from secretly digging tunnels and launching surprise attacks on the forward camp from below.

An adjutant draped in an optical camouflage cloak hurried into the command post, saluted, and reported, “Sir, all personnel have entered their combat zones. Strict silence is in effect. Awaiting combat orders from command!”

Wayne and Dav exchanged a look, then turned to the several communicators in the command post who were constantly receiving intelligence reports. In a low voice, Wayne asked, “What’s the current situation at the enemy’s position?”

“The nearest trenches are packed with enemies. We suspect some Winged ones are mixed in, but they’re still not making a move.”

As soon as the alarm had sounded, several reconnaissance airships had quickly ascended from directly behind the camp. Under the protection of anti-air weapons, they hovered a hundred meters directly overhead, using spyglasses to closely monitor the movements of the approaching enemy.

The staff officers gathered around the sand table map quickly compiled the reconnaissance intel, providing the commanders with crucial references for decision-making in a very short time.

Dav slammed a fist on the table, grinding his teeth in frustration. “Why worry so much? The Commander-in-Chief has already given us the right to open fire at will. Why don’t we have the artillery give them a round of saturation bombing first? We can cut off those shoddily dug ice trenches right now!”

Staff Officer Ivan raised his hand in agreement. “The artillery unit is requesting permission to fire! Artillery Battalion Commander Lynx wants to test-fire a round with the heavy cannons to confirm bombing impact points and firing coordinates!”

Wayne, his face grim, waved his hand. “Tell them to wait… let those bastards crowd a little closer to our position…”

The enemy’s advance through the ice trenches wasn’t fast. Even the closest were still nearly two and a half kilometers from the first early warning line. Although they were already well within the range of the heavy artillery, Wayne was still unwilling to make the first move. He had to figure out why this non-human race was holding its position despite having already reached the battlefield.

Just then, a communicator next to his hand suddenly rang. Wayne picked it up. The panicked shout of an airship scout from above came through the receiver.

“Black worms! There are large numbers of giant black worms in the enemy trenches! Each one is as big as an alchemical wheeled vehicle, and they’re being slowly transported from the rear of the trenches to the front… They… they used snow for cover, so we didn’t spot them at first!”

Black worms? Giant worms the size of wheeled vehicles?

Before Wayne could snap out of his surprise and ask for more details, another shrill, high-pitched alarm sounded overhead. This time, it was the anti-air alarm!

Wait! There’s been no sign of a large-scale assembly of Winged ones on the other side, so why is the anti-air alarm going off?

Dav suddenly realized something. He snatched another communicator and yelled himself hoarse, giving the order to fire: “Artillery Battalion, prepare! Open fire on the enemy lines immediately! Fire! Fire!”

…

In stark contrast to the clamor inside the command post, the first early warning position at the very front of the defensive line was a completely different scene.

After strict silence was initiated, all the soldiers remained quietly in their combat zones, nerves taut, staring intently at the enemy’s area in the distance. Although not a single target could be seen on the flat, boundless ice, everyone knew that tens of thousands of terrifying non-humans were hiding beneath the slightly raised layers of ice and snow.

The only sounds on the entire position were the footsteps of officers and commissars running back and forth. Battalion Commander Chiron was lying by an observation slit in the trench. He turned his head to look at a few new recruits next to him who had been in the army for less than half a year.

“What are you all muttering about?” he frowned, a little displeased with these kids who, strictly speaking, weren’t on the battlefield for the first time. During the past six months of sweeping up vile orcs in the barren lands, they had seemed perfectly capable. Why were they acting so cowardly now that they were facing the Demonic Lizardmen?

“B-Battalion Commander, aren’t we supposed to be maintaining silence?” a new recruit asked in a whisper, cautiously looking around.

Chiron pursed his lips and teased in a low voice, “Strict silence is mainly to keep you from firing randomly out of nervousness. As long as the commissars from the Staff Department aren’t around, a little quiet talking is fine.”

The battalion commander’s attempt to soothe them with a joke made the surrounding new recruits sigh in relief. “Battalion Commander, when the fighting starts… should we shoot at the enemies charging out of the trenches, or aim for the ones in the sky?”

“You idiot! When the fighting really starts, there’s no ‘first this, then that.’ Shoot whatever you can hit! Don’t worry, the commissar and I will keep a good count for you. We won’t miss a single kill for your battle merits!”

“I… My palms and back are sweating, Battalion Commander. My grip on my rifle is getting slippery…”

Chiron rolled his eyes and was about to scold the greenhorns when he suddenly noticed the sky in the distance, where the first light of dawn had just appeared, seemed to darken in an instant.

He immediately whipped his head around to look into the distance. Countless dense black dots had suddenly appeared in the sky above the enemy’s position, a gray mass so vast it blotted out some of the daylight. In just a few seconds, the black dots grew larger in his vision. When Chiron finally saw what they were, he felt the blood rush to his head.

“Enemy attack! It’s an enemy attack—!” Several low-ranking officers nearby noticed something was wrong at almost the same time. Their ferocious roars echoed across the position. “Get in the bunkers! Take cover!”

Chapter 667: The First Shot of the Counterattack!

The black dots that suddenly appeared in the sky above the enemy’s position descended fiercely. It was only when they were nearly upon the early warning position that the soldiers holding the trench realized with a start… that these strange objects, dense enough to blot out the sky and sun, were actually black crystalline spikes, each as thick as a grown man’s arm.

Despite receiving a warning from their Sir, most of the soldiers had no time to react in the face of such a massive, concentrated attack. Almost instinctively, they ducked their heads, burying them in the trench and curling their bodies up as tightly as possible to reduce their exposed surface area. The rest was up to fate.

After shouting his warning, Battalion Commander Chiron had also instantly tackled two stunned new recruits, pinning them beneath him to shield their heads and faces, praying that the damned crystalline spikes wouldn’t happen to land exactly where he was.

A few seconds later, the crystalline spikes, raining down like a storm, completely covered the first line of defense.

Bang! Bang! Bang—

The incessant whoosh of sharp objects cutting through the air overhead was followed by the explosive sound of hard objects colliding. Chilling cries of pain immediately erupted from the nearby trenches.

Only when the sky brightened again did Chiron cautiously raise his head, unhurriedly lifting his weapon to survey his surroundings.

He had been lucky. The seemingly dense barrage of crystalline spikes had actually scattered with a fairly wide berth, and as a result, had not covered his section of the line when they landed.

In contrast, the area slightly to the rear now looked to be in a bad state. Thick, long crystalline spikes were buried deep in the ice, and shattered snow and ice fragments were splattered everywhere. Looking down the length of the trench, he could see soldiers in optical camouflage cloaks lying motionless in the ditch. More numerous were the groans and cries for help from the wounded he couldn’t see.

“Battalion Commander! The enemy!” a new recruit suddenly screamed, grabbing his arm and pointing at the Icefields in the distance.

Chiron immediately turned around. On the vast, once-empty expanse of snow, countless black figures were now emerging. Several distinct groups of clustered Demonic Lizardmen unfurled the fleshy wings bound to their backs and, with a few powerful flaps, took to the air.

So those damned giant bats had been hiding under the ice with the ordinary Demonic Lizardmen warriors all along, waiting for their chance.

With a quick glance, Chiron estimated their numbers… Compared to the battle at Great Bear Lake, the attacking Demonic Lizardmen force had likely more than doubled. And he had no idea what kind of horrifying method had produced the crystalline spikes that had just been launched from a distance.

The ground enemies quickly closed in on the position. Without even waiting for orders from the command post, the Machine Gun Squads, who had held their firing positions, opened fire. The dense report of their guns exploded like firecrackers, and a tight web of bullets blanketed a wide swathe of the ice several hundred meters away.

Chiron’s battalion headquarters was positioned on the right flank of the entire line, defending the foremost Newman’s battalion headquarters alongside another battalion on the left flank.

As a few shells from the Portable Cannons whizzed overhead, his extensive combat experience allowed him to keenly observe something strange. While the left and right flanks were firing almost simultaneously, why did Newman’s unit in the center seem to have a weaker counter-attack?

Something was wrong! Newman’s Machine Gun Squads had been hit hard by the black crystalline spikes!

He immediately rose from the trench, bent over, and pulled his adjutant over, roaring hoarsely, “Have the others maintain suppressing fire! You’re in command of the right flank! Two Squads with me, we’re reinforcing Newman’s unit, now!”

After being attacked, Newman’s battalion headquarters in the center of the line was a wreck. The several-hundred-meter-long transverse trench was in shambles everywhere. A few crystalline spikes had even chanced to hit several ammunition storage points, and the resulting explosions sent up thick clouds of black smoke, completely shrouding the surrounding trenches.

As he ran quickly through the ditch, Chiron could only make out the faint shapes of numerous wounded soldiers lying on the ground. Several Machine Gun Squads he passed along the way were silent. He had no choice but to peel off some of his reinforcements to take over their positions while he kept his head down and pressed forward.

At the intersections of the trenches, he could already see medical teams rushing from the rear, carrying stretchers and first-aid kits. When they met, there was no time for words; they immediately began dragging the wounded soldiers back for a swift retreat.

It wasn’t long before Chiron found Newman at a break in the trench, lying face-down on the ground. Shocked and enraged, he flipped him over, only to find a fragment from a crystalline spike lodged in his waist and abdomen. It had penetrated deep into his body. Judging by the slow rise and fall of his chest and his pale face, he was clearly unconscious from massive blood loss.

After quickly administering first aid with the hemostatic spray from his belt, Chiron shoved aside a soldier who was slumped silently over his machine gun and gripped the weapon’s firing handle.

His Deputy rushed to pick up the ammunition belt that had fallen to the ground and reinserted it into the magazine well on the side of the stock grip.

The machine gun’s Sights quickly locked onto the enemy a thousand meters away. An experienced veteran like him didn’t need to predict the bullet’s trajectory; he estimated the firing angle by feel alone.

“Fire!”

As he slammed the trigger, a searing white flame erupted from the barrel of the Magical Energy Machine Gun. The dense rain of bullets transformed into a long phantom, surging Eagerly toward the distant enemy.

The Demonic Lizardmen at the very front ran headlong into the intersecting barrage of fire, instantly exploding into clouds of red and black bloody mist. The bullets tore through their bodies with undiminished force, striking more enemies surging up from behind.

The other machine gun teams that had previously fallen silent were not idle. They coordinated their fire, alternating their shots to give their comrades who had emptied their ammunition belts time to reload, ensuring the suppressing fire never let up.

“Battalion Commander! Look up!”

Chiron didn’t even need to look up; he could hear the beating of wings overhead. Those damned giant bats were close!

A few soldiers covering him decisively raised their guns and fired several shots into the sky, shooting down two Winged ones that were about to throw their javelins. But this level of retaliation couldn’t repel the enemy that controlled the air. Dozens of spears still came whistling down, forcing them to duck for cover.

Fortunately, the second line of defense had finally recovered. The low hum of Beam Weapons instantly resounded, followed by a net of light, so bright it was blinding, that exploded in mid-air, engulfing the Winged ones that had taken advantage of the chaos to draw near.

A fine shower of blood instantly began to fall from the sky, and a large amount of minced non-human flesh and limbs rained down, drenching the soldiers below.

“What are you all staring at! Keep firing! Suppress the ground enemies first!” Chiron wiped the stinking ichor from his face and ordered at the top of his lungs.

The soldiers snapped back to their senses, once again throwing themselves against the firing ports of the trench to return fire. As they watched the endless flood of enemies surging toward their position, they gritted their teeth and fired relentlessly, unable to stop their legs from turning to jelly and their scalps from tingling with fear.

There were too many… There were simply too many enemies, so many that they hardly needed to aim. They could hit something just by closing their eyes and firing randomly.

Finally… the artillery position in the rear area awakened from its silence.

The earth-shattering roar of artillery instantly thundered across the sky.

Chapter 668: Probing and a Tug-of-War

Ice Sea Base, Northern Army’s forward command post.

The first battle, which erupted on the early warning line over five kilometers from the base, quickly sent back all its battlefield intelligence. The fierce fighting at the front was already winding down. Although the Demonic Lizardmen had launched the initial attack, the well-prepared Northern Army had repulsed their long-planned first wave in just half an hour.

After receiving the all-clear, Vaughn put down the communicator in his hand, his face grim. He walked over to the sand table, lost in thought.

Unbeknownst to them, the enemy had once again cooked up a “new weapon” they had never heard of before. At the same time, through observation and imitation, they had learned to dig trenches just like the Northern Army, using underground fortifications to withstand artillery bombardment and cover the advance of their main force.

Although this series of actions had failed to achieve any results against the Northern Army’s overwhelming firepower, Vaughn could clearly sense that these non-humans were gradually trying to catch up with humans in terms of tactical deployment and combat strategy.

Fortunately, the combat command system personally established by His Majesty was still far ahead of the enemy, whether in intelligence gathering, defensive early warnings, troop deployment, or post-battle analysis.

Take the raid that had just ended, for example. The frontline combat departments received scout reports, mounted a quick defensive response, and then flexibly adjusted their strategies according to the battlefield situation. The various combat units reported battle details up the chain of command, all of which were compiled at the command department. Through the analysis and review of the staff officers, they gained the most direct understanding of the entire battle.

“The enemy didn’t even touch our first line of defense. They just used those strange black worms to launch a large number of black crystalline spikes at our positions from the ice trenches… In the end, they left behind about three thousand corpses and retreated back along the trenches.”

They didn’t even hold out until the Northern Army’s aerial units arrived, easily losing the first exchange of the great battle… Many young officers and staff officers seemed excited, as if this long war, which they had expected to be a bitter struggle, now seemed to have victory within easy reach.

“It’s not that simple…” Dickinson said grimly, frowning. “They secretly dug trenches and deployed a brand-new evolved type of soldier. They definitely wouldn’t do all that just to charge up and let us mow them down in a single volley.”

This was definitely a probe! But what were they probing for?

“What are our casualties? How much damage did the black spikes from the worms inflict on the front lines?”

Staff officer Ross, holding a freshly copied report, quickly read it aloud: “Thirty-nine killed in action, one hundred seventeen wounded, both lightly and seriously. Ninety percent of these casualties were caused by the enemy’s crystalline spikes, and the operational battalions in the center of the line were hit the hardest.”

A hundred-to-one loss ratio. Even if their plan was a war of attrition to see which race’s effective strength would run out first, the Northern Army had an absolute advantage with casualty figures like these. The Demonic Lizardmen couldn’t possibly outlast them.

“So… the original plan to counter-attack towards Number Two Floating Island?”

Vaughn decisively raised a hand to silence him. “Postpone it!” he said gravely. “Let’s see what they’re trying to probe first. If nothing unexpected happens… their second wave will come soon after this battle ends.”

And just as Commander Vaughn had predicted, over the next ten-plus days, the Demonic Lizardmen, relying on their web-like network of ice trenches, launched a surprise attack on the Northern Army’s front lines every two or three days.

And their strategy was almost identical each time… At dawn or dusk, when the human soldiers holding the line were at their most tired and lax, they would suddenly charge forward from the rear of the ice trenches. Then, they would drive those fat black worms to spew a large number of sharp, black crystalline spikes at the positions, creating an opening for them to charge.

But as soon as the Northern Army’s counterattack came, they would make a decisive retreat… leaving behind nearly a thousand corpses as they hastily fell back before the artillery bombardment arrived.

In this back-and-forth tug-of-war, the Demonic Lizardmen and the Northern Army had, comically, developed a strange “understanding.”

The early warning line at the very front started a three-shift rotation. The soldiers sent to the front in turns grew accustomed to the enemy’s frequent attacks and the crystalline spikes shooting out from the ice trenches, their initial fear and panic giving way to routine.

The main reason was… their accuracy with the crystalline spikes was simply atrocious. Unless you were that one unlucky soul in ten thousand, most of the time, soldiers only needed to stay focused to easily dodge them using cover.

Meanwhile, the enemy’s Winged Ones, who possessed superior combat power and mobility, had also become much more timid in the fight for air superiority. In the past, they would swarm into the sky to pursue whenever they spotted the Northern Army’s combat airships. Now, they seemed to have restrained themselves. As long as the airships didn’t directly enter the three-kilometer radius of Number Two Floating Island, they would at most loiter at a distance, choosing not to charge in for a relentless pursuit.

Vaughn and the Staff Department had been tearing their hair out over the enemy’s strange behavior.

According to the original battle plan, the Northern Army should have already advanced to the perimeter of Number Two Floating Island and set up their magical energy heavy cannons right in the enemy’s face… But because of the enemy’s strange behavior—digging ice trenches and launching repeated probing attacks—and the appearance of the new worm-type soldiers, the command headquarters felt that something was amiss.

“Postponing the counteroffensive isn’t a bad thing for us. After receiving the report… His Majesty also believes we need to act with caution. It’s best to fully understand the enemy’s intentions and see if they have more evolved ‘new killing machines’ hidden away.”

The vast majority of mid-to-high-ranking officers approved of Vaughn’s measures, with the exception of the ever-impatient Fire Mage, Colonel Hoden of the Independent Airship Regiment, who was extremely dissatisfied with the command’s actions.

The high-rank battle mages he led were mostly fanatics who had been stationed at the Evil Moon Mountain Range fighting Demons. In their view… a true battlefield commander and decision-maker should not be overly afraid of risks and personnel losses. With victory as the ultimate goal, they would willingly execute even a suicidal battle plan without hesitation. That was far better than the current situation of being overly cautious, indecisive, and dragging things out.

For this reason, the Son of Flame, representing the Independent Airship Regiment, had requested to be sent into battle several times, but Vaughn had, unsurprisingly, decisively refused each time.

“We’re not following the original battle plan, and we’re letting the non-humans lead us by the nose… People die in war! If you’re so afraid of heavy casualties, then just order a full retreat! Leave the front lines to us battle spellcasters!”

Stormwalker Matthews Willy clamped a hand over the Son of Flame’s still-cursing mouth and whispered consolingly, “His Majesty must have personally appointed Commander Vaughn to take full responsibility for the operation because he values his cautious and methodical nature. If you’re really that frustrated, I’ll go get you a Barrett. When those damned non-humans come raiding again, you can go to the front lines and blow off some steam on them.”

The Fire Mage was sharp-tongued, but he was also pragmatic enough to know that at critical moments, he had to follow military orders. Venting his emotions was one thing… but directly violating a military order to act on his own was a grave mistake.

“Hmph, cut it out! Trying to egg me on to leave my post and rush to the front lines at a time like this? I think you’re just hoping I get reported to the Military Law Department, aren’t you?”

Chapter 669: Surprise Attack

After nightfall, the entire Ice Sea Base was shrouded in moonless darkness. Save for the silhouettes of soldiers on sentry duty patrolling with magic stone flashlights, most of the people who had been busy all day had returned to their barracks.

Around the empty camp, a large number of alchemical beasts constantly patrolled, their mechanical prosthetics sinking into the snow with a soft swishing sound. Overhead, the occasional passing Airship joined them, forming a psychological line of defense that assured the soldiers a peaceful night’s sleep.

However, Vaughn, the Commander-in-Chief of the battlefield, had no intention of sleeping.

Since pausing the plan to counterattack Number Two Floating Island, he had to endure constant pressure from various departments every day, dispatching numerous reconnaissance units to scout the enemy’s position in an attempt to figure out the non-human race’s true intentions as quickly as possible.

It was nearly midnight by the time he finished the day’s final tactical meeting. Unwilling to remain idle, he took several adjutants and soldiers aboard a small Airship and flew to the front lines, over five kilometers away.

Looking toward the enemy from the air, even from a distance of nearly fifty kilometers, Vaughn could almost see the massive Floating Island standing starkly against the Icefields. The colossal monster, hidden in the darkness, seemed to be staring back at him, its undisguised malice fixed on their group of “frail” humans, as if it intended to devour them in the next second.

Having received word of the Commander’s midnight visit, Dav and Wayne, who were holding the first line of defense, hurried out to greet him.

“They launched another attack this morning. The battle lasted less than half an hour before they retreated again under our suppressive fire.”

Wayne pointed to the sand table map, which was clearly marked with the network of ice trenches dug by the Demonic Lizardmen. “Right now, they’re moving laterally along the flanks, trying to bypass our defensive lines and push into our rear. The artillery units responded promptly with a bombardment, collapsing all of those newly dug trenches.”

“How much longer are we going to be in this stalemate with them?” Dav asked, frowning. “Even if dragging this out is to our advantage, we can’t just keep wasting time. The Airship unit has been ready for ages. Why don’t we push toward Number Two Floating Island?”

Vaughn’s face was grim. He shook his head and, after a long moment of deliberation, said slowly, “A few days ago, I used the Soul Crystal His Majesty entrusted to me and deployed a unit of over ten thousand micro alchemical beasts near Upwelling Number 17 to investigate that unknown region.”

“Any sign of a new enemy Floating Island?”

“No… or rather, we received no feedback at all. After such a large number of alchemical beasts entered that sea of hot spring mist, they lost their connection to the Soul Crystal completely. To this day, there’s been no sign of them.”

How could that be?

Wayne and Dav exchanged a look of unconcealed surprise.

“Could it be that the environment there is simply too unique? That the high heat and steam caused the alchemical beasts to lose control?”

Vaughn nodded. “When I reported this to His Majesty, he thought the same… Those micro alchemical beasts are, after all, powered by a single magic stone. Without an operator nearby to command them, it’s easy for them to get lost in a complex environment and eventually shut down once their energy is depleted.”

“So we still need to send people to investigate,” Wayne said with a frown. “So… you’re worried the Demonic Lizardmen are using the area’s natural cover to hide an undiscovered Floating Island fortress, waiting for us to advance on Number Two Floating Island before launching a surprise attack on the flank of Ice Sea Base?”

Before Vaughn could answer, a sudden commotion erupted outside the command post.

The three of them shot to their feet as the door was thrown open and Legendary Chief Dawson strode in, his face dark.

The staff officers and soldiers on night duty all wore expressions of shock and uncertainty. Why had both the Commander and the Chief come to the front lines tonight?

Before anyone could ask, Dawson spoke, his voice grim. “They’re hiding beneath our defensive lines right now! Those non-humans were indeed secretly digging deeper ice trenches and tunnels!”

What?

Without waiting for the Commander’s order, Wayne lunged toward the communications officer, snatched up the communicator, and roared, “Sound the alarm! Attack alarm!”

Vaughn froze for only a few seconds before he quickly understood. The prisoners who had been implanted with the Chief’s Curse Seed and discreetly released during an enemy attack had been reintegrated into the enemy’s combat units. By a stroke of luck, they had provided firsthand intelligence, exposing the enemy’s movements!

And the Chief, who had been closely monitoring those “human-shaped bombs,” had naturally discovered their presence at the first possible moment!

He scraped his boot against the thick steel plating on the floor and gave his orders without hesitation. “Immediately order the base’s Airship unit to prepare for action! The enemy might be planning a major move tonight… Have them fly to the front lines as reinforcements immediately!”

On the Icefields, the cold wind howled day and night, making life miserable for the soldiers holding the trenches.

In the central defensive line where Benny was stationed, despite the thick, standard-issue military uniforms and the ability to shelter from the wind in the ice forts built at intervals along the trench, most soldiers were still shivering from the cold. They had to rotate frequently throughout the night just to keep from freezing solid.

Battalion Commander Newman had been incredibly unlucky. In the very first battle against the Demonic Lizardmen, his waist and abdomen had been struck by the enemy’s new weapon. Though his life wasn’t in danger, he was confined to the Military Region General Infirmary at Great Bear Lake Base for the foreseeable future to recover.

For now, his battalion was under the temporary command of the deputy battalion commander, while also taking direct orders from the adjacent Battalion Commander Chiron.

Soldiers on the front lines had to observe strict silence regulations at night and were forbidden from turning on any additional lights. To observe the direction of an enemy attack from the trenches, they had to rely on the magic stone searchlights on the watchtowers in the rear, which shone all night. The massive beams would sweep across the battlefield every few minutes, and the soldiers would use that brief window of light to stand up and quickly make observations with their spyglasses.

This was just the basic night duty procedure, but based on past experience, the Demonic Lizardmen never attacked at night. They seemed to prefer surprise raids at dawn or dusk, the transitionary periods between day and night.

Although open flames were forbidden in the trenches, small alchemical heating furnaces were permitted. Benny had just finished his patrol of his section of the trench and immediately returned to the ice fort to press his feet close to the furnace, warming his rock-hard military boots.

“Captain, the soldiers on rotation just passed by. They said they saw General Vaughn’s Airship parked at the command post in the rear. Is something big about to happen? Are the higher-ups finally going to launch a formal counterattack?”

“Finally… squatting in this trench for the past half-month has been torture. The cold nights are one thing, but those Demonic Lizardmen harassing us right on schedule have really gotten on my nerves. I don’t even dare take my finger off the trigger when I’m resting!”

“We should push straight for their main base! Let our heavy cannons and machine guns blast them to pieces!”

Benny rolled his eyes in exasperation and threw the boot-shining rag in the talkative soldier’s face. He was just about to reprimand him when—

Wait! The wind… it doesn’t sound right!

He immediately stuck his head out of the ice fort, straining his ears to listen for the strange sound mixed in with the howling wind.

“It’s… the whistle of something cutting through the air! Take cover!”

The instant the deputy leader yanked him back into the ice fort, several crystalline spikes, masked by the darkness, slammed into the ice wall atop the trench. The spikes shattered on impact, sending a spray of crystalline fragments and powdered snow flying in all directions.

Almost simultaneously, the piercing wail of the enemy attack alarm echoed across the entire battlefield.

Chapter 670: Night Battle

How could the Demonic Lizardmen launch a surprise attack at night?

They… they’ve always attacked during the day…

Benny’s ears were ringing. Only after the first volley of crystalline spikes ended did he cautiously peek his head out from the ice fort in the trench. He saw that the section of the trench he was in was littered with fine fragments of crystalline spikes. Even the shelter, built from solid ice, was damaged in several places.

Many soldiers patrolling the front lines during the attack were hit by the fragments and fell into the trench. They were quickly grabbed by their collars and dragged into the shelters by their comrades.

It would take some time for the Medical team from the rear to arrive. For now, they could only receive the most basic first aid. As long as no vital organs were hit, stopping the bleeding would be enough to save them.

Benny rushed over to the Machine Gun Squad. Just as he gave the order to prepare for the enemy, a second volley of crystalline spikes rained down. This time, the soldiers were prepared. They ducked back into their shelters or raised thick, refined steel shields in front of them. After enduring the volley, they unhesitatingly returned fire at the distant enemy.

For a moment, the entire battlefield roared with the dense chatter of machine guns and rifles, punctuated by the shriek of portable cannons arcing across the sky.

Several floating Airships hovered overhead, firing a number of tracer bombs made from light-emitting magic stones toward the enemy’s position in the ice trenches. The burning flares instantly lit up the entire battlefield, allowing the soldiers in the trenches to get a clear view of the enemy’s movements.

The number of enemies attacking tonight was several times greater than in the frequent probing attacks of the past few days. In the flickering firelight… they could even faintly see the massive figures of Conch Beasts in the far distance, stepping over the excavated ice trenches and slowly advancing on their position.

“Quick! Contact the artillery units and request fire support!”

“What’s the situation on the left and right flanks? Have they also been hit by crystalline spikes?”

“Any sign of the Winged ones? Why aren’t the Beam Weapons firing?”

Benny ducked into the ice fort and took the communicator from a soldier. Battalion Commander Chiron’s roar immediately came through from the right flank, “Maintain suppressive fire! We’ll commence artillery strike in five minutes!”

“What about the Airship units?”

“They’ll arrive in ten minutes!”

Benny put down the communicator, only to run into a soldier who rushed in. “Captain, something’s wrong… Those worms, the crystalline spikes they’re firing, they don’t seem to be attacking the defensive line indiscriminately like before. They’re… they’re targeting the Machine Gun Squads and Portable Cannons!”

What?

It was true that the Demonic Lizardmen had night vision, but even so, without the guidance of the Winged ones, it was impossible for them to accurately lock onto the Northern Army’s main firing points from nearly a kilometer away in the pitch-black night.

Unless those black crystalline spikes had eyes of their own and could fly straight for the machine guns and cannons…

Another volley of crystalline spikes came hurtling over. The soldiers once again ducked into their shelters to take cover, but the two machine gun teams closest to Benny suddenly went silent. The soldiers manning them were fine, but the Magical Energy Machine Guns they had set up were hit directly by the spikes. The heavy barrels separated from their base plates, toppling from the firing ports and rolling down crookedly.

Seeing this, a thought flashed through Benny’s mind—

The repeated probing attacks over the past half-month hadn’t been the Demonic Lizardmen uselessly expending their forces at all… They had been using every attack to methodically map out the Northern Army’s fixed, primary firing points along the entire frontline.

Once they had completely locked onto the positions of these firing points, they launched an all-out surprise night attack, using the worm-spewed crystalline spikes to take them all out in one go.

“Quick, notify the mobile artillery units! Tell them not to stay in one place… they must engage and move. Same for the Machine Gun Squads! Dismantle the fixed mounts and change firing positions periodically.”

The combat units on the left and right flanks discovered the anomaly at almost the same time and simultaneously changed their fire suppression tactics, having the Machine Gun Squads and Portable Cannon teams begin moving flexibly along the entire lateral frontline.

A slight tremor suddenly ran through the ice beneath his feet. Benny didn’t even need to look up to know that those mountain-sized Conch Beasts were closing in. Those things could only be dealt with by the heavy cannons; soldiers’ rifles and portable cannons were useless against them.

But why was there still no activity from the artillery position?

…

At that moment, the soldiers fighting fiercely on the front lines had no idea that the rear had descended into chaos.

The instant the night raid alarm sounded, enemies had suddenly appeared within the camp. They had actually dug a deep tunnel from underground, bypassing the heavily guarded front lines to emerge near the command post. It seemed they had detected the thick steel plates insulating much of the area above them, and ultimately chose to surface in an outer warehouse that lacked such defensive layering. They blasted open the ice surface with a blast of concentrated red light and poured out like a tide.

Fortunately, Chief Dawson was the first to notice the underground anomaly. Having given an early warning, the army was prepared. A company of Bloodline Warriors had been dispatched to the defense gap in advance, engaging the Demonic Lizardmen in a battle near the logistics warehouse, which was extremely close to the artillery position.

When gunfire erupted from within the Barracks, the scene instantly descended into chaos. The soldiers knew the front line hadn’t been breached, but the surprise attack from underground still left them deeply unsettled.

As many ran toward their designated combat zones, they couldn’t help but glance at the ground beneath their feet, fearing that the ice not covered by steel plates would suddenly crack open into a deep chasm, from which a swarm of well-prepared enemies would emerge.

Vaughn refused his adjutant’s request to immediately return to the Ice Sea Base. Chief Dawson grabbed him by the shoulder and flew directly to the warehouse, personally commanding the Bloodline Warriors in their encirclement of the enemy.

Members of the special operations squads, a knife in one hand and an explosive bolt gun in the other, were backed by the covering fire of regular soldiers. They had the ice pit where the enemy emerged tightly surrounded, engaging in close-quarters combat with nearly a thousand Demonic Lizardmen pouring out of it.

The light from the explosive bolt guns flared intermittently in the darkness. Beams from several searchlights on the watchtowers converged on the area, providing the soldiers with ample lighting and a clear line of sight.

Although they had effectively repelled this wave of underground attackers, Vaughn was still seething with frustration. “The ice under our feet has been frozen for tens of thousands of years; it’s harder than cast iron. Even the engineering team needs to rely on Scorching Rays and explosives to dig shelters. How did they dig such a long tunnel to get here?”

Dawson stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him, observing the battle that was gradually turning in their favor. “They likely used that blast of concentrated red light,” he surmised. “With a spell-like attack method like that, breaking through the deep ice wouldn’t be too difficult.”

Fortunately, for all their effort, they had only managed to dig this one tunnel. The number of troops they could commit was very limited. Under the siege of the forewarned Northern Army, it was only a matter of time before they were completely wiped out.

After they were repelled… they would need to send down alchemical beasts to collapse the tunnel for good.

But just then, a Messenger on a Magic Motorcycle sped over, reporting anxiously to Vaughn, “Commander, bad news! The rear artillery positions… enemies have appeared at the artillery positions too!”

Chapter 671: The Artillery Position

When the alarm blared, the Artillery Battalion under Lynx’s command was the first to react.

The sounds of portable cannons and machine guns firing intermittently from the front lines indicated that their side had already engaged the enemy in a night raid.

According to standard combat procedure, they just needed to confirm the battlefield situation through their communication lines, receive the order to fire from headquarters, and then methodically unleash a torrent of shells upon the enemy’s position.

But when Lynx and his men rushed to the operational area, they found the situation was not as straightforward as they had anticipated. The night-shift team was locked in a fierce battle with a group of enemies that had appeared from nowhere, caught between the ammunition depot and the artillery position.

Several hundred soldiers were using stacked supplies in the camp as cover, forming a simple defensive line to tightly contain the enemies continuously pouring out of a maintenance equipment room. Everyone knew that the nearby ammunition depot was a strategic facility of utmost importance to the Artillery Battalion. If the enemy managed to destroy it, they would be unable to provide any reinforcements to the front lines for some time.

“They tunneled through the ice beneath our feet to sneak in…” Lynx crouched behind cover, pointing at the equipment room which was now locked in the glare of a searchlight, and said through gritted teeth, “This is the only spot around here where the ground isn’t covered with protective steel plates. They must have exploited that loophole.”

He then quickly leaned out, raised his rifle, and fired at a Demonic Lizardman that had charged close. His excellent aim predictably pierced the creature’s chest, but it immediately drew the attention of another Demonic Lizardman. A fully charged bolt of red light shot straight toward him.

The deputy battalion commander swiftly yanked Lynx back. The upper half of the wooden supply crate they were using for cover was struck directly by the lightning, sending wood chips flying everywhere and causing the entire row of crates to totter on the verge of collapse.

“When can the Bloodline Warriors from the special operations squads get here to reinforce us? And where is the demolition team?” Having just escaped death by a whisker, Lynx immediately turned to the messenger and barked, “We have to collapse that ice tunnel they dug, now! We can’t let these things keep pouring out from underground!”

The messenger swallowed hard, his voice trembling. “The special operations squads are tied up… Enemy ice tunnels have also appeared near the Barracks command post. There are even more Demonic Lizardmen pouring out from there, and there are Winged ones, too.”

They’re doing this on purpose… First, they revealed themselves near the command post to draw all the Bloodline Warriors into an encirclement, then they stealthily infiltrated the artillery position. Their ultimate goal was to destroy the target that posed the greatest threat to them.

Lynx frowned. “How did they figure out the location of the artillery position?”

Several more bolts of red-light lightning shot over. Seizing a lull in the rifle fire, a small group of Demonic Lizardmen raised their Black Crystal Shields and began to break out. Their refusal to get bogged down in the fight made it clear: their targets were indeed the heavy cannon emplacements and the nearby ammunition depot!

I have to find a way to take out the Red Lizardman leader hiding in that crowd… Without the suppressive threat of the red-light lightning, the ordinary Black Lizardmen would be no match for the soldiers.

Lynx immediately thought of a plan. He slinked away from the crate-cover and crept along the side of a barracks building. Using his adjutant’s shoulders as a foothold, he climbed straight onto the roof. From this high vantage point, the entire battle scene around the equipment room came into view. Several soldiers lay sprawled by the equipment room’s entrance, their bodies pierced by Black Spikes. They must have been ambushed and killed the moment the enemy emerged from below.

It was still unclear how many enemies were hiding inside the dark equipment room. About a hundred had charged out, and the soldiers who had rushed to surround them had picked off nearly half. The survivors had managed to escape by using the bodies of their comrades as shields and were now scattered, cowering behind stacked supplies and wheeled vehicles in the open space outside.

In this short-range firefight, the enemy’s black crystalline spikes were nearly as lethal as the soldiers’ bullets, leading to a quick stalemate. However, the human soldiers, lacking heavy firepower, were unsurprisingly suppressed by the enemy’s red-light lightning.

In the time it took Lynx to climb onto the barracks roof, he had personally witnessed several soldiers have their already flimsy cover obliterated by the red light, only to be impaled by a volley of crystalline spikes, collapsing tragically in pools of their own blood.

But thanks to the opportunity his comrades had created with their lives, Lynx’s sharp eyes spotted a Red Lizardman leader hiding behind an alchemical wheeled vehicle. The creature’s entire side was completely exposed to his line of fire, completely unaware of the threat from the rooftop.

Lynx’s weapon of choice was a Type-II Magical Energy Gun. Compared to the newer, rapid-fire Type-III, its rate of fire was slower, requiring him to work the bolt to load each shot. Its advantage, however, was superior accuracy and significantly greater range.

He pulled the trigger without hesitation, and the Red Lizardman leader’s head instantly erupted in a bloody mist, splattering its two Black Lizardmen guards with a mixture of red and black brain matter before they could even react.

For Lynx, an artillery battalion commander who had started in the Defense Force, a shot on a stationary target from less than fifty meters away was virtually impossible to miss.

The soldiers below immediately noticed the sudden death of the enemy leader. A dozen men at the very front began to slowly advance along the line of crates. It seemed they had received the alchemical bombs from the demolition team and were preparing for a death-defying rush to the equipment room, intending to collapse the entire building to seal the enemy’s ice tunnel.

It was a perilous, near-suicidal mission with a minuscule chance of success. But with powerful reinforcements still a long way off, neither Lynx as the battalion commander nor his subordinate officers had a better way to stop the enemy’s assault on the artillery position. The soldiers’ fierce and unafraid defiance also inspired more of the better marksmen to climb to high ground, using precise, single shots to buy time for the advancing team.

Just then, the sheet-metal roof of the equipment room was suddenly shattered by a thick bolt of red-light lightning. Dozens of black, winged figures soared into the air from within, their hands swiftly materializing black water javelins that they hurled down into the battlefield.

Winged ones! There were Winged ones hiding in the ice tunnel too!

Lynx decisively swiveled his rifle, shifting his aim to the sky. Those “big bats” that had suddenly appeared were gathering in twos and threes, hovering over the battlefield. A dark red glow began to gather in their hands—it was the prelude to unleashing a blast of concentrated red-light lightning.

They had obviously spotted the small squad of human soldiers trying to sneak toward the equipment room.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

After several shots rang out, a few of the Winged ones hovering at low altitude shuddered violently, then spiraled uncontrollably toward the ground.

However, because the sharpshooters providing sniper support had not assigned targets beforehand, some of the Winged ones still managed to escape. In an instant, they unleashed the concentrated lightning they had been charging.

One bolt of red light shot straight toward the demolition squad that had just reached the vicinity of the equipment room.

Chapter 672: Detonating the Curse

BOOM—

Following a massive explosion, a ball of scorching red flames erupted near the equipment room. Through the rolling smoke and dust, human figures could be seen writhing in agony.

The Demolition Squad had suffered disastrous casualties…

What Lynx worried about most was whether the alchemical explosives they carried had been hit in the attack, triggering a sympathetic detonation.

Fortunately, the searchlight from a distant watchtower was focused on the area. Amid the chaos, he could clearly see a soldier lying prone on the ground, his chest pressed tightly against a black metal box… That was the explosive made by the Alchemy Laboratory. There was even a timed detonator attached to the outside of the box.

The sharpshooters lying prone on the barracks roof had also been spotted by the enemy while providing covering fire. Several bolts of red-light lightning shot toward them, instantly tearing the sheet metal roof apart. Lynx only had time to roll away before the massive blast threw him to the ground.

“Cough, cough… ugh!” He coughed violently, spitting out the slush of snow that had filled his throat. He instinctively felt himself over. Luckily, there were no open wounds. He quickly scrambled to his feet.

Just as he unsteadily found his balance, a piercing pain shot through his right shin, and his vision went black… Dammit! It felt like the bone was broken.

The adjutant, who had been covering him from under the eaves, had collapsed in a corner, clutching his bloody stomach and gritting his teeth to keep from crying out. Lynx dragged his injured leg and lunged toward him, pulling the tie from his waist to bind the wound tightly.

Two Artillerymen cautiously clambered over a low wall and slipped over to them. They grabbed them by their belts and collars, intending to drag them back.

“Wait!” Lynx pressed down on the soldier’s hand, his gaze fixed on the outer wall of the equipment room a few dozen meters away. While on the roof, he had clearly seen that a few members of the Demolition Squad had survived the attack. They were now huddled in a blind spot in the corner of the wall, using a tall pile of supply crates to hide from the Winged ones’ follow-up attacks.

He had to find a way to alert them… The alchemical explosives were still there. If they could just get their hands on them and move a little further, they could stuff them directly into the ventilation duct behind the equipment room. The mission to collapse the building and block the ice tunnel could still be completed!

But the battlefield was filled with the sounds of gunfire, and the lightning bolts fired by the enemy from time to time produced deafening booms. In such chaos… trying to warn them by shouting would be completely useless.

The only way was to join them!

Reaching down, he ripped off the leggings on his ankle and tied them tightly around the suspected fracture. Enduring the excruciating pain, Lynx struggled to his feet, using his long rifle as a makeshift crutch.

“No! Battalion commander… don’t go!” A froth of blood bubbled from the adjutant’s lips as he spoke, his voice a choked sob as he pleaded, “We’ll wait… wait for reinforcements…”

There was no time… If more Winged ones charged out of the ice tunnel, they could use their aerial advantage to break through their defenses and reach the ammunition depot. Even if they only managed to set off one warehouse, the violent sympathetic detonation would be enough to destroy the artillery position.

Lynx squeezed the adjutant’s shoulder hard and gave a meaningful look to the soldiers who had come to rescue them. The two men immediately began dragging the wounded adjutant to the rear.

Taking advantage of the lingering chaos from the recent explosion, Lynx hobbled along the narrow gap between the supply crates and the low wall, crouching low as he slipped around the corner to the outside of the equipment room.

“Battalion commander?”

The few soldiers in charge of the demolition mission spotted him at once. Seizing a moment when the Winged ones overhead were dodging gunfire, they pulled him behind the supply crates. Only then did Lynx realize that of the four remaining soldiers, two had had their legs blown off at the knees. Tourniquets were tied tightly around their thighs, but they couldn’t stop the gushing flow of blood. The other two were also covered in injuries; even their dark black uniforms were damp to the touch.

“It’s just you two left… Make some noise for me, draw the attention of those big bats in the sky.”

The two soldiers understood immediately. They took off their uniform jackets and covered the wounded, then grabbed their guns and slipped along the base of the wall in the opposite direction. At the same time, they didn’t forget to raise their guns and fire at the enemy in the sky. They quickly drew the attention of several nearby Winged ones, who flapped their wings and gave chase.

Lynx seized the opportunity, throwing himself out from cover. With a few rolls, he reached the side of a fallen soldier and pulled out the explosives box that had been shielded beneath his body. No longer caring about his broken leg, he began crawling toward the equipment room on all fours.

Suddenly, he heard the thud of two heavy objects landing behind him. Without even needing to look back, Lynx knew in his heart… the Demonic Lizardmen that had charged out of the equipment room again had spotted him.

Gritting his teeth, he drew his revolver sidearm from his waist, struggled to turn his body, and fired without hesitation at the enemies slowly closing in on him in the darkness.

Bang—

Perhaps it was the trembling caused by the sharp pain from his broken bone, or perhaps the darkness, lit only by the flickering fires, had thrown off his aim. In any case, the enemy in front of him merely swayed to the side but didn’t fall.

Lynx narrowed his eyes in despair. His arm holding the explosives box tightened subconsciously, and his stiff fingers closed around the detonator’s pull ring.

If he couldn’t complete the mission… it wouldn’t be a loss to perish together with the enemy, to take these two abominable bats with him!

Just then, of the two Winged ones lunging at him, the one in the lead suddenly froze two or three steps away. A faintly gleaming spear tip emerged from the center of its black, hide-covered chest. A moment later, an entire black crystal spear pierced through its body, pinning it to the ground.

The one who had attacked… was the second Winged one standing behind it?

Lynx was completely stunned. He was so shocked that he even forgot to fire again. He just watched, dumbfounded, as the creature that had attacked its own companion staggered toward him in a bizarre manner. It bent over, forcefully snatched the explosives box from his arms, and then soared into the air, diving headfirst into the equipment room through the shattered roof.

It… it took the explosives box inside?

Lynx’s mind was buzzing. During that struggle, he had already subconsciously pulled the detonator’s ring. If the box didn’t contain a one-in-a-million dud, it would almost certainly detonate in three minutes.

Why did that Winged one suddenly turn against its own kind and choose to help him complete the demolition mission?

There were too many questions and no time to think. Driven by the survival instinct of a man in grave danger, Lynx struggled to crawl backward, trying to get as far away from the building as possible before it blew up…

He heard the sound of rushing wind above him again. The collar of his uniform suddenly tightened at the back of his neck, and he was lifted right off the ground, flying through the air away from the blast zone toward the outer perimeter of their position.

The terror of his feet leaving the ground made him struggle fiercely. He twisted his head only to see that the one holding him by the collar was a short old man in an ill-fitting military uniform. His bright red nose was an unforgettable sight… Legendary Mage Lord Dawson!

“Your… Your Excellency! That Winged one just now…”

Dawson glanced back at Lynx as he flew at a low altitude and chuckled. “Sneaking up to the enemy’s ice tunnel entrance to plant a bomb all by yourself… You’ve got some nerve. Don’t worry, I’ve already set them to fighting amongst themselves…”

Fighting amongst themselves?

Lynx looked down and saw that the enemies gathered near the equipment room had, at some point, descended into chaos. They were either attacking each other with black water javelins or indiscriminately shooting red-light lightning at their own comrades.

Before he could even process it, a violent explosion roared from within the equipment room, and a massive fireball rose into the sky…

The equipment room collapsed in an instant. A huge amount of concrete, rubble, and thick, solid ice completely buried the tunnel the Demonic Lizardmen had dug.

Chapter 673: Crisis Averted

After being hauled back to the rear by Chief Dawson, Lynx had barely touched the ground when he saw a squad of powerfully built, tall soldiers. With longblades on their backs and pistols of an astonishing caliber in their hands, they charged straight into the battlefield ahead.

The Bloodline Warriors of the Special Operations Squad! They had finally arrived as reinforcements…

They were the Northern Army’s strongest combat unit in terms of overall fighting capability and mobility since its founding. Although selected from the ranks of ordinary soldiers, once they received His Majesty’s bloodline blessing, they would shed their weak mortal bodies, officially ascending to the transcendent realm and becoming the United Kingdom’s most elite frontline spearhead.

These transcendent beings, who looked no different from mortals, wielded two types of astonishingly heavy weapons—blades and firearms—yet they could run and dodge at speeds far exceeding those of ordinary people, nimbly avoiding the enemy’s black crystalline spikes and red-light lightning. In battle, they formed small combat units of three to five, using their rich tactical experience and seamless coordination to suppress their opponents completely.

A specially crafted alchemical longblade, a large-caliber explosive bolt gun… coupled with the bloodline talents they each wielded with practiced ease, this area, with its abundant cover and narrow terrain, was a bloody stage practically made for them!

The Demonic Lizardmen who had launched the sneak attack were already in a state of chaotic infighting thanks to the Legendary Chief’s strange methods. Now, with the addition of the Bloodline Warriors, the outcome of the battle was no longer in doubt.

Lynx pushed away two soldiers who were trying to carry him to the medical station and ordered in a low voice, “All soldiers of the artillery battalion, follow me to the front lines immediately. The fire support that we should have provided has been delayed for too long. We must act now!”

…

The sound of floating airships streaking across the sky suddenly echoed above the battered trenches.

A brilliant flash of light announced that the Beam Weapons mounted on the airships were beginning to take effect. For the soldiers holding the ground defenses, it was a timely arrival, like divine soldiers descending from heaven.

At the very least, they no longer needed to worry about attacks from the Winged ones in the sky, nor did they have to constantly watch out for craftily angled javelins and flashes of red light between firing.

But the enemy that had come in the night raid had also committed a large number of ground forces. Even without the aerial deterrence of the Winged ones, they were gradually closing in on the human lines under the cover of Conch Beasts and Spitter Worms.

“Damn it! What the hell is the artillery doing? Why haven’t they provided bombardment support yet?”

“Pah! I never thought I’d see the day I’d be pinned down on the battlefield by the crystalline spike projectiles from these non-human monsters!”

“Battalion commander! The portable cannons are almost out of ammunition… The reinforcements from the rear seem to be held up. What do we do?”

“Held up?”

“The Demonic Lizardmen burrowed through the ice from underground and launched a surprise attack on the rear barracks. Even the command post was hit!”

“What the hell!” Benny cursed under his breath. He could taste iron in his mouth and spat bloody saliva onto the ground. Just moments ago, while dodging the red-light lightning, the shockwave from an explosion had slammed into his body, nearly scrambling his internal organs.

Throughout the trenches of the early warning line, the soldiers holding their positions fired continuously, all while cursing and complaining. The airships had arrived on time, but they flew straight over the front line into the enemy’s rear to engage the endless stream of Winged ones, leaving them with no capacity to provide fire support to the ground defenses.

The artillery had been silent since the alarm first sounded. The Communications Officer’s calls for reinforcements were so frantic they might as well have been sending up sparks, but there was still no response.

The soldiers on the front line were not completely unaware of the “trouble in the rear,” but as for where exactly the enemy had struck the camp, which combat unit was responsible for mopping them up, and the current extent of the damage to the main base… no one knew the specific details.

Fortunately, half an hour into the battle, they finally received a new order from headquarters—the Commander issued a strict command to all battalions on the front line: regardless of the situation in the rear, they were to hold the line at all costs and ensure the enemy did not break through.

The Demonic Lizardmen’s sudden night attack had indeed far exceeded the Northern Army’s expectations. Not only were their forces several times larger than anticipated, but they had also deployed the never-before-seen Spitter Worms. A large number of Conch Beasts, which normally only patrolled around the Floating Island, had been brought to the front as well. Even with the dense suppressive fire from machine guns and portable cannons, the enemy had inevitably pushed to within five hundred meters of the line.

To make matters worse, the moonlight was dim, and the gusting winds on the Icefields severely limited visibility. Most soldiers had lost their usual accuracy and could only identify the enemy’s main assault paths by the light of the tracer bombs that the reconnaissance airships occasionally dropped in the distance.

“Watch out! Left flank, defense sector three! Here they come!”

“Damn it! They’ve gotten close! Machine Gun Squad, shift your angle of fire! Open fire now!”

“Watch out for the crystalline spike projectiles!”

A squad of Demonic Lizardmen, having somehow advanced to within three hundred meters of the front line, raised their layered Black Crystal Shields and silently hurled a volley of crystalline spike spears toward the trenches. The few soldiers who spotted them opened fire decisively, punching several holes in their mobile defenses, only to realize with horror that the enemy had dragged the Spitter Worms right up to their position.

A massive volley of crystalline spikes, jetted in straight lines, instantly blanketed defense sector three. The close-range impact was so powerful it blew apart half of the sturdy ice-forged cover.

The soldiers huddling behind the line had nowhere to hide. The Machine Gun Squad, which had been gritting their teeth and returning fire under the enemy’s ranged attacks, was sent flying in utter chaos and silenced in an instant.

Just then, the terrifying shriek of heavy artillery finally came from the rear, streaking across the sky.

Benny looked up almost instinctively and saw dozens of scorching red streams of flame flying from behind. In an instant, they landed several hundred meters in front of the line. Massive fireballs from the explosions immediately lit up the entire battlefield.

That was the effect of bursting shells mixed with Dragon’s Flame powder!

A Conch Beast, taking heavy steps as it led the charge toward the defense line, was struck by two shells. Its entire body jerked to a halt, as if it had slammed into an invisible wall. Great flames erupted from its body, sending countless fragments of its coral-like shell flying. Then, under the continuous blaze, it collapsed with a thunderous crash.

Half a minute later, another artillery barrage arrived.

This time, the shells flew over the enemy vanguard and landed seven to eight hundred meters from the line, deeper in the enemy ranks. The ensuing explosions simultaneously illuminated the dark area, and the soldiers on the front line immediately saw that even more Spitter Worms and Demonic Lizardman warriors were advancing rapidly toward them under the cover of the Conch Beasts’ dark forms.

The enemy forces were as dense as a black tide. Winged ones continuously rose from the ice trenches, forcing even the airship fleet engaged with them in an aerial dogfight to begin a slow retreat.

The sight sent a chill down everyone’s spine.

Could they have dispatched all the forces they had stationed on Number Two Floating Island?

Chapter 674: Head-on Confrontation

“Chief! We’re firing too close, we almost hit our own trenches…” a messenger reported, jogging up to Lynx with a look of lingering fear on his face.

Half-lying on a stretcher being carried through the artillery position, Lynx curled his lip and said impatiently, “Almost hit them? So you’re saying you didn’t! Weren’t we just trying to help them suppress the enemy closing in on their line?”

Of course, he could only grumble this to himself. The blunder at the artillery position tonight made Lynx admit he was in the wrong, so he was no longer as arrogant as usual when facing accountability from the front-line units. “Adjust the firing angle. Fifty meters forward from the last range. Ten rounds, progressive rapid fire!”

“Yes, battalion commander!”

“How are you able to blindly fire and hit the enemy from over half a kilometer away without direct observation of the battlefield?” Dawson stood beside Lynx’s stretcher, seizing a lull in his command to ask with a smile.

Since saving Lynx, he had stayed by the side of this mortal officer who, despite a broken leg, insisted on continuing to command the battle. Under the guise of supervising and inspecting, he observed as Lynx led the artillerymen against the enemy.

Lynx naturally had no temper to show this peculiar Chief. Leaving aside the man’s noble status, the simple fact that he had just saved his life was enough to make Lynx answer any question asked of him.

“It’s calculation, Chief Excellency. His Majesty developed a complete set of firing tables. We just need to know the distance to the target and our own position, then adjust the angle according to the pre-made sighting scales and fire…”

That’s not so different from how the nobles in the south operate their catapults and ballistae during sieges… Combining ordinary mathematics with the use of magical weapons is a classic move for His Majesty Harvey.

As the two spoke, the artillery, after a brief pause, roared to life again. The massive, rumbling sound made the very ground tremble.

“Battalion commander! The central section of the left flank… a large number of Spitter Worms have been spotted! The front line requests a targeted bombardment!”

“Understood. Divert five heavy cannons to provide support… Have them report the area coordinates.”

Dawson narrowed his eyes and chuckled, “Directly in front of defense sector three on the left flank, less than three hundred meters from the nearest trench. They’re nearly on top of them…”

Lynx’s expression froze. He immediately waved his hand to order the artillery support. Only after the messenger had hurried away did he come to his senses and stammer, “How did you know the left flank was under attack, Chief? Aren’t you here in the rear position with us? Could it be… that miraculous divination magic?”

Although the Legendary Mage appeared approachable, when it came to abstruse matters like supernatural secrets, Lynx, as an ordinary mortal, still felt a psychological sense of awe and fear.

“Divination magic isn’t that useful, at least it couldn’t predict that we’d be attacked tonight… Heh, I’m using reconnaissance magic. I’ve placed a pair of eyes on the early warning line.”

It was then that Lynx suddenly remembered something his comrades who had contact with the Aerial Combat Mages had mentioned. When those battle spellcasters flew their routine airship patrols, their primary method for scanning an area and gathering intelligence on targets… was to use that incredible reconnaissance magic!

The Spellcaster only needed to remain inside the airship hundreds of meters in the air, yet their vision, relying on a Mage’s Eye, could sweep over an area several kilometers in radius—far more efficient than an ordinary scout using a spyglass.

Looking at the Chief Excellency’s smiling face, Lynx couldn’t help but entertain a rather bold idea—if only the independent artillery regiment could be equipped with a group of battle mages capable of casting the Eye of Reconnaissance to assist in their daily operations, that would be perfect.

…

Meanwhile, the Demonic Lizardmen, who had been locked in a stalemate with the Northern Army in front of the line, had finally used their “human sea tactics” and a flanking attack to successfully find a relatively weak breakthrough point on the left flank of the early warning line.

The Winged ones no longer shied away from the Beam Weapons’ attacks. They soared into the air one after another, recklessly unleashing crystalline spike spears and red-light lightning at the soldiers holding the line, all to buy enough time for their ground troops to charge.

The charge-speed of these non-human races, with their long, twisted limbs, was incredibly fast. They appeared from the ice trenches over a kilometer away and closed to within three hundred meters of the early warning line in the blink of an eye. If this were a daytime battle, their charge would make them nothing but living targets for the Machine Gun Squads providing suppressive fire… But in the dim conditions of the night, achieving such a high kill efficiency was a tall order.

Benny, who had rushed to the left flank to reinforce the line, made a keen observation… Whenever the machine gun bullets were about to cover an area near the enemy, they would instantly shrink the large crystalline shields in their hands to cover only their heads and faces, then throw their entire bodies flat against the ground. As long as their reactions were fast enough, they could effectively avoid being cut down by the barrage of fire.

“These damn non-humans have learned to imitate our standard combat maneuvers!”

Benny cursed through gritted teeth as he peered out from the trench, using his Magical Energy Gun to pick off the enemies crawling forward through the snow with precise shots.

Fortunately, at that moment, several bomber airships passed silently overhead and dropped a string of aerial bombs. They instantly ignited a large patch of enemies along with the weapon canisters on their backs. The soaring flames even spread directly into the ice trenches they had dug.

Another wave of crystalline spikes shot toward them. Two soldiers who had exposed their bodies past the gun shield, hunched over and firing the machine gun, were immediately wounded. They rolled away from their firing positions with a thud.

Benny slung his rifle over his back and rushed forward in a single bound to take one of their places. Staring at the battered gun shield in front of him, which had been struck by red-light lightning countless times, he could only pray silently that his luck wouldn’t be too bad and that one of the indiscriminately fired crystalline spikes wouldn’t land on his head.

Seeing him personally take over the machine gun, a fresh-faced new recruit immediately dashed out from a nearby cover. He held up a heavy ammunition belt and began to assist with loading… Although his legs were shaking like a leaf, his hands moved quickly and smoothly through the standard procedure for operating the machine gun.

It was strange. All it took was one or two low-ranking officers leading the charge, fierce and unafraid of death, and the shouts of the Commissar, for the soldiers who had been pinned down by enemy fire to muster their courage again. They instinctively charged out from their cover to continue fighting… The line, which had been on the verge of collapse just moments before, was instantly pulled together as one again.

Infected by this indescribable atmosphere, many began to shout uncontrollably as they returned fire, as if venting the rage in their hearts with words could completely dispel the fear of death.

“Sir! Loading complete!”

Benny took a deep breath. With the soldier’s assistance, he quickly cranked the traverse wheel to a level firing angle—then, without hesitation, he pulled the trigger, unleashing a dense hail of bullets on the enemy rapidly closing in from over a hundred meters away.

The explosions that rang out overhead and by his ears from time to time were now indistinguishable—it was impossible to tell if they came from the enemy or from their own side. It seemed the bombardment of the heavy cannons and the hum of the airships’ Beam Weapons had completely merged into one…

Chapter 675: First Victory on the Icefields

Click—

The crisp sound of the Magical Energy Machine Gun emptying its magazine rang out. Benny kicked open the ammunition box beside him… only to find it already empty.

He instinctively turned his head and saw the young soldier who had been providing cover for him, now dragging a heavy ammunition box back.

“Good! Keep loading, I’ll replace the spare barrel!”

“Yes, Sir!”

“After you’ve changed the ammunition belt, take the rest of the spare ammo next door. Their ammunition seems to be…”

As Benny was giving the order, he suddenly realized the other firing position to his left had been silent for some time. He snapped his head around… and saw that the two men who had been shouting and firing not long ago were now sprawled in the trench.

Half of a sharp crystalline spike fragment was lodged diagonally in one man’s abdomen. Blood gushed from the wound as he convulsed. The other man’s body was blown apart from the shoulder blade down, apparently from a direct hit by red-light lightning.

The horrific sight filled Benny with an indescribable grief and rage. He stared blankly for a moment before roaring at the top of his lungs, “There’s one still alive! Where are the Medics? Get them over here!”

A few Medics carrying a stretcher happened to be passing by. They glanced down, examined the man for a moment, then shook their heads, giving him a silent, apologetic look.

The meaning was clear… perforated organs, too much blood loss. He was beyond saving.

…

Fortunately, the targeted bombardment of the left-flank defensive line began soon after.

The heavy cannons from the artillery positions in the rear area began to roar. Dozens of shells came screaming through the air, and like meteors crashing to earth, they slammed straight into the enemy ranks, cutting their relentless charge in two.

The sudden glare of explosions lit up the entire Icefields, illuminating the twisted forms of Demonic Lizardmen being blasted to pieces and the gruesome sight of Conch Beasts collapsing.

Bursting shells and solid shot were fired in alternation, quickly suppressing the enemy. The Spitter Worms that had been dragged to the front lines had little in the way of defense. While a rifle shot might not kill one instantly, artillery and aerial bombs from above could tear their soft bodies to shreds in an instant.

After the Airship fleet pulled back to be level with the defensive line, a dozen or so high-level battle mages disembarked from their aerial vehicles and plunged directly into the more intense battlefield below. They coordinated with the newly arrived Bloodline Warriors of the Spec Ops squads, moving nimbly along the thousand-meter-long front to reinforce the weaker areas.

Benny, who had considered himself incredibly lucky, finally ran out of luck. During a red-light attack from a Winged one, he rolled away in a hurry and slammed his head against a hard ammunition box in the trench. Blood gushed from his temple… and he instantly lost half his vision.

As a soldier dragged him into an ice fort to be bandaged, a communication came through from the rear.

“The enemy forces that infiltrated the camp command post and the vicinity of the artillery positions have all been eliminated! A new wave of reinforcements from the Ice Sea Base has just arrived. Frontline soldiers, prepare for rotation!”

Turning to the unfamiliar new recruit who had been by his side since the battle began, Benny clutched his forehead and hissed in pain. “Which battalion are you from, soldier? What’s your name?”

The new recruit, clutching a leg that had been gashed by a crystalline spike fragment, shivered for a moment before answering honestly, “Sir… I… I’m a maintenance soldier… I was ordered to the front line before the attack to repair a machine gun mount for the Fifth Battalion on the left flank… It’s just that they were all… all killed… so I just…”

Benny grabbed his collar and saw that, sure enough, his left breast was embroidered only with a single silver-thread ear-of-wheat pattern, the insignia of a new recruit. He sized him up with some surprise. “Well, I’ll be. Your first time on the battlefield and you’ve got guts like that… Aren’t you afraid of dying?”

“I am… But if the line breaks and the enemy overruns our Barracks, we’d be dead anyway, right? Better to fight them head-on!”

Hearing this, Benny burst out laughing, unable to stop himself from recalling the old Captain Newman’s words of advice… on the battlefield, soldiers who cling to life and fear death sometimes die even faster than those who fight bravely!

With the arrival of reinforcements from various units, the firepower along the entire line intensified. More floating Airships were committed to the battle from the rear, bringing the Demonic Lizardmen’s offensive to a grinding halt. After a few rounds of precise heavy cannon volleys, a kill zone was cleared in front of all three flanks of the defensive line, where vast numbers of dismembered non-human corpses lay strewn across the ice.

It was the darkest hour before the dawn, and the enemy’s night-assault army finally began to show signs of collapse. As the Winged ones began to retreat first, the Demonic Lizardmen ground troops also started to waver, and then they fell back like a receding tide… abandoning their own kind who had charged at the very front to the collapsed and shattered ice tunnels.

Awaiting them were the Spec Ops squad warriors who leaped from the trenches in hot pursuit, and the merciless cleanup by the high-level Mages patrolling the low altitude.

…

When Vaughn returned to the command post with Dav and Wayne, Chief Dawson had also come back from the artillery position. He was huddled with a group of frontline staff officers, gesturing over the sand table map.

Seeing the Commander-in-Chief arrive, the staff officers quickly turned and saluted. “Lord Commander!”

Vaughn nodded to the Chief, then surveyed the room with a grim face and asked, “What’s the current situation?”

“The front line has completely repelled the attacking enemy. The Airship fleet is currently cooperating with the Spec Ops squads on the ground to pursue them.”

“Don’t push too deep. Be careful the Demonic Lizardmen don’t suddenly turn and snap back… Have them pull back as soon as possible.”

Dav rubbed his hands together and said spitefully, “Shouldn’t we take this opportunity, while they’re in full retreat after a major defeat, to advance directly on Number Two Floating Island? I’d bet my life on it… They must have next to no forces left on that Floating Island right now!”

Vaughn shook his head and said slowly, “Of course we’re going to attack it… but not now. Enemy tracks have been confirmed at Upwelling Number 17. They must have another, brand-new Floating Island fortress hidden there. We will likely be facing a two-front war next.”

Once the enemy made their move, their target would certainly be the Ice Sea Base, located behind the flank of the early-warning line. If they were to throw all their forces at the tottering Number Two Floating Island, which had already exhausted its effective strength… they would fall right into the enemy’s “lure the tiger from the mountain” stratagem.

Just then, a logistics officer hurried in, holding a report.

“Commander, according to the statistics from clearing the battlefield and reports from the rear, over three hundred of our soldiers were killed in action during tonight’s attack, and nearly eight hundred were wounded… Of the wounded, over two hundred have lost all combat capability.”

The atmosphere in the command post instantly sank to rock bottom. The logistics officer looked at Vaughn’s dark expression, took a deep breath, and added, “And this is just the initial tally gathered from the battlefield, since the fighting has just ended… The Field Hospital at the Ice Sea Base has indicated that the actual casualty figures are likely to be even less optimistic. After all… after all, many of the severely wounded are still undergoing emergency treatment.”

Despite the fact that Vaughn, as the battlefield commander, and the high-ranking officers under him had been prepared for a sudden night assault… they had never anticipated that the enemy would throw everything they had at them, resulting in such heavy casualties.

The loss of three hundred soldiers… was no different from having an entire battalion wiped out. This battle could be called the greatest loss and setback the Northern Army had suffered since its inception.

It was at this moment that everyone truly realized… This war of fate, upon which the very survival and continuation of the two races depended, had finally, slowly, revealed its truly brutal face!

Chapter 676: Medical Predicament

Ice Sea Base, field infirmary.

Vaughn led a group of officers into the treatment center, and his expression immediately turned grave at the gloomy and worried atmosphere.

The enclosed hall, with its central heating, was filled with the thick smell of blood. Hundreds of wounded soldiers were laid side-by-side on simple medical stretchers, awaiting treatment. The air was filled with miserable wails and groans of pain.

And on the second floor, there were only five operating rooms…

Among the military doctors originally dispatched, many were mid-to-low-level Spellcasters who knew healing spells, including a few half-elves with an affinity for natural elements. But faced with such a massive number of casualties, they were helpless once their mana was depleted.

After all, the main function of the medical alchemical beasts was to staunch bleeding and suture wounds, effective only on open, bleeding wounds or puncture injuries… When it came to fatal injuries like severed limbs or damaged internal organs, a healing-type Spellcaster had to be assigned to assist, using healing spells and restorative magic potions, for there to be any chance of pulling the wounded back from death’s door.

But this also meant that each surgery was extremely time-consuming. Even if the alchemical beasts could work non-stop for twenty-four hours, the healing Spellcasters assisting them couldn’t possibly keep up.

When Vaughn and his men arrived, the operating rooms on the second floor were all at full capacity… Three casualties with their chests and lungs pierced by crystalline spikes, one whose legs had been blown off at the knees by red-light lightning, and one unlucky fellow whose abdomen had been slashed open, his intestines spilling out, were all undergoing emergency surgery.

Compared to those in the operating rooms struggling between life and death, the ones groaning and wailing in the main hall seemed much luckier… Being deemed by the military doctors as not needing emergency surgery meant that the Grim Reaper’s scythe wasn’t hanging over their heads. Though the pain from their wounds was torturous, it was better than losing their lives.

“Even if their lives aren’t in danger, you could give them some painkillers or sleeping medication so they don’t have to lie here and suffer while wide awake,” Dav said with a frown, expressing his dissatisfaction to the medical director right away.

The director of the Ice Sea Base’s field infirmary was none other than Sandra, a fellow kin personally recommended by Minister of Health Egnor.

The young half-elf had just finished a surgery and was being relieved, her face pale, to take a rest. Seeing the Commander arrive with his men for an inspection, she gave a wry, weary smile. “Colonel, it’s not that we’re unwilling to give them painkiller potions… You know as well as I do how significant the side effects are when magic potions are used on mortal bodies.”

Sleeping potions like Dream Blossom juice are inherently addictive, and the infirmary has always used them with caution. As for painkillers made from things like Fluorescent Fern, while they are fast-acting with minor side effects… their drawback is that they don’t last very long.

Many of the wounded were brought in just before the fighting ended near dawn. After their bleeding was stopped and their wounds disinfected, most were given a dose of painkiller. But in less than half a day, the effects wore off, and the searing pain would make a comeback, naturally causing them to start crying out again.

“At a time like this, we can’t be too concerned about the side effects of potions. If this is a regulation set by the Ministry of Health, I will advise His Majesty that it shouldn’t apply on the battlefield… I want our wounded soldiers to survive and recover as the top priority, with alleviating their pain as a secondary concern, so they suffer less.”

Sandra nodded. She looked over at a soldier with a back injury, who was being held down by the shoulders by two medics as they forcibly rinsed his wound with distilled spirits, causing him to let out a series of bloodcurdling screams… She finally showed an expression of pity. “I understand, Commander… I will submit a request to Minister Egnor to allocate a sufficient supply of anesthetic and sleeping potions for use.”

Vaughn nodded, then asked, “And what about the severely wounded? What are the chances of saving their lives?”

“We can only do our utmost to save them… I can’t make any guarantees. We don’t lack medical alchemical beasts; what we’re missing are Spellcasters with healing abilities. Even if we gathered all the personnel from the three bases at the Ice Sea, Great Bear Lake, and the snowy mountain, it would still be far from enough.”

After all, there were over eight hundred casualties with varying degrees of injury. A single mid-rank Spellcaster, even by exhausting all their mana, could only treat four or five people in a full day… Some mentally resilient doctors chose to push themselves to continue casting spells, only to collapse from the dual exhaustion of their mental energy and mana, ending up lying side-by-side with their own patients.

The most critical problem was still the scarcity of Spellcasters who studied healing spells—the vast majority of human Spellcasters without elven blood would not choose to major in nature-type spells. On one hand, the innate trait of having an affinity for natural elements rarely appeared in humans. On the other, the nature school of casting seemed far too weak, both in theoretical research and practical combat ability…

At this thought, Vaughn gave a slight bow, turning his head to ask Chief Dawson, who was standing beside him, “Chief Excellency, aside from the Elves of the Golden Forest, are there any other Spellcaster organizations in the south from which we can recruit capable healing Spellcasters?”

“Almost none…” Dawson shrugged, his expression also one of helplessness. “Frankly, there might be a few wizard families with inherited traditions, but I doubt they would accept His Majesty’s summons. There are a handful of people within the old Federation, though. I’ll write to Spellshield and extend an invitation to them…”

Nature-type casting and necromancy were essentially both minority schools. The only difference was that the former was seen as closer to orthodox elemental casting, while the latter was stigmatized as heresy.

…

Starfire City, inside the Imperial Palace castle.

Harvey sat at his desk, his expression grave as he read the urgent battle report sent back from the front lines.

With a distance of nearly five hundred kilometers separating them, it was no longer possible to rely on alchemical communicators alone for real-time communication. They had to use the Magic Net Forum as a medium to transmit information, delivering intelligence to Harvey at the earliest opportunity.

“To think that even with near-perfect preparations, we still suffered considerable losses in an all-out night raid by the enemy…”

Awakened from his bed by Astaren just before dawn, Harvey knew instinctively that something must have happened at the front lines. He just hadn’t expected such a major battle to break out so suddenly.

“In any case, this was our victory… Your Majesty need not worry. Once it’s fully light, you can convene the staff officers from the Ministry of Defense to discuss the matter and jointly plan the strategic adjustments for the next phase.” Astaren knew Harvey well enough to understand he was agonizing over the casualties, so he couldn’t help but offer some quiet words of comfort.

Harvey wasn’t so naive that he couldn’t accept the ironclad fact that war inevitably brings heavy casualties… It was just that experienced veterans were not easy to train, and the casualties in this battle were the greatest loss the Northern Army had suffered since its founding. It was hard for him not to be concerned.

Tucked within the stack of battle reports was a thin, single page… Harvey pulled it out and scanned it quickly, discovering it was a brief jointly submitted by Vaughn and Chief Dawson.

“Summon Egnor to see me first… I need to talk to him about the urgent restructuring of the field infirmaries, and the issue of launching a full-scale recruitment of healing-type Spellcasters from the south.”

Chapter 677: Excellent Healers

“Your Majesty, on my way here, a messenger gave me a brief report on the current difficulties facing the field hospital at the Ice Sea Base.”

Egnor had rushed to the Imperial Palace with his medical kit upon receiving Harvey’s summons, only to unexpectedly run into Mr. Fran Macaulay, who had also been summoned, at the main gate.

Harvey wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries. He handed the battle report to them and explained, “Currently, the field hospital handles severely wounded patients the same way as before… primarily using medical alchemical beasts for hemostasis and suturing, supplemented with magic potions that provide pain relief, induce sleep, and promote tissue regeneration. Most of the time, this provides timely and effective treatment for injured soldiers.”

He paused, then his tone shifted. “But… a new problem has arisen now. The magic potions developed by the infirmary, when used in small doses on commoner patients, can just barely avoid side effects while ensuring efficacy. However, when large doses are required for battlefield first aid, the already dying soldiers are unable to withstand the mana corrosion and instead succumb to rapid organ failure and death.”

Under these circumstances, the established procedure would naturally be to assign at least a mid-rank healing-type Spellcaster to assist with the treatment… to observe the various rejection reactions a wounded soldier might have after taking the potion and to promptly perform targeted healing spells to save them.

Spellshield quickly scanned the newly arrived battle report, sighed, and added in a low voice, “But we simply don’t have that kind of manpower right now. Spellcasters who have mastered nature magic and healing spells are as rare a magical talent as Necromancers.”

The number of spells that can be constructed and inscribed within a Spellcaster’s own mana circle is inherently limited. Unless one possessed a natural affinity for natural elements like the Elven race, most people were unwilling to take up a healing spell just to occupy one of the few slots for magical runes in their mana circle. After all, their mana-altered bodies were perfectly capable of withstanding the corrosion… Even if they were accidentally injured during an experiment or a battle, they could just spend a fortune to buy a specialized magic potion from an alchemist.

Neither Harvey, Egnor, nor Spellshield had ever imagined that the nature-type spellcasters they had once completely overlooked would now become an extremely scarce medical talent in their fight against the non-human races.

“Perhaps we could requisition some apprentices from the Spellcaster Academy?”

“Useless…” Egnor shook his head, dejected. “Whether it’s the Elven exchange students or the students from the nature-type spells discipline—which very few people enroll in to begin with—these young kids are still at the apprentice rank. They can barely grasp the most basic healing spells; they couldn’t even heal a simple cut on their own palm.”

Chief Dawson did offer a suggestion in the battle report he sent back—he proposed that he, Salas, and Gallagher use their influence in the south’s magical community to “swallow their pride” and contact some of the ancient wizard families hidden throughout the various kingdoms, requesting to borrow wizards skilled in healing spells to assist.

But in the end, it was a solution that wouldn’t quench the immediate thirst. To actually implement it… would require a great deal of time.

Egnor thought for a moment and said hesitantly, “I could also try contacting the Windtalker, Mr. Percival Landi, and implore the Golden Forest in the east to send a group of Elven Spellcasters as reinforcements. However, my appeal might not be as effective as Your Majesty directly proposing a partnership with the esteemed Grand Druid Kyriel Randi on the Magic Net Forum.”

After all, Mr. Kyriel Randi, handle “Heart of the Forest,” was one of the very first founding members to join when Harvey established the Spellcaster Forum.

Harvey gave a bitter smile. “I already contacted Mr. Heart of the Forest before you arrived. He said he’s willing to consider a partnership… but he needs some time to lobby the other Elders in the High Elf council on behalf of my proposal. That, too, will take a very long time.”

For a reclusive, cold, and conservative race like the Elves, getting them to actively seek cooperation would require an issue of grave importance affecting the very survival and development of their people. Otherwise, even for the sake of Harvey, the “Friend of the Elves,” it would be difficult for them to reach a consensus in a short period.

In their eyes, the responsibility of resisting the non-human race’s full-scale invasion of the south belonged mainly to the Humans. As a sub-race, the Elves saw no need to bet all their chips and throw themselves into this war of extermination. Since someone else was already on the front lines… the Elven race, already holed up in the remote east, was naturally happy to focus on its own development.

From the very beginning, Harvey hadn’t placed much hope in these sub-races with their strong aversion to war.

Be it the Elven race, the Dwarves, or the Sea-folk.

They wouldn’t realize the importance of establishing a united front to fight side-by-side until the Demonic Lizardmen truly invaded the south, razed cities, slaughtered mortals of all races, and posed a fundamental threat to the survival and continuation of their own people.

At this thought, Harvey felt a wave of frustration. He stood up and began to pace back and forth in his study. “Is there really no one who can help us in the short term? Where could I possibly find a large number of healing-type Spellcasters…”

Astaren, who had been listening silently all this time, suddenly spoke up. “Your Majesty…” he said softly, “I’ve thought of a way that might solve the problem. It’s just that…”

“Just what?” Spellshield and Egnor immediately perked up, asking in unison.

Astaren paused for a moment before speaking carefully. “There is an… organization that we are all familiar with. It has trained a large number of transcendent beings with healing abilities. No! Perhaps I should put it this way… their organization primarily cultivates transcendent beings who are renowned for their healing abilities!”

Spellshield’s expression froze. He instantly understood what Astaren was thinking. “This… This is really, a bit too…”

Before Harvey could react, Egnor also understood what the two meant. He blurted out in astonishment, “Are you planning to conscript those Church priests being held in the Holy City of Goris?”

With their idea exposed, the two fell silent. An awkward and strange expression appeared on Spellshield’s face… To think that after all this, they would end up turning to the Church, their long-standing enemy, for help. It was, admittedly, both ironic and a sign of their desperation.

Harvey, however, stroked his chin and mused aloud, “Hiss… That’s not a bad idea. It could be quite effective. The Holy See has indeed trained a large number of high priests and ordinary clerics with healing abilities. While these people don’t have much combat power, in the past they were all stationed in various parishes, spreading their faith by using divine arts to heal the common people’s illnesses.”

In a sense, they are better at administering targeted treatment for all of a mortal’s injuries and ailments than orthodox healing-type Spellcasters. And since divine arts themselves originate from magic, using them in conjunction with alchemical magic potions for battlefield first aid would be equally and outstandingly effective!

Chapter 678: The Offensive Stalls

Inside the Grand Council Hall of the Imperial Palace in Starfire City.

“You’ve all seen the detailed battle reports from the front. Let’s hear your thoughts… How exactly did the enemy launch a silent night raid? And how did they manage to dig ice tunnels, infiltrate our rear camp, and carry out a precise strike on our artillery positions?”

Astaren took the documents from his adjutant, bowed, and ascended the steps to hand them to Harvey. “Your Majesty,” he said in a low voice, “after repeated discussions and analysis, the Staff Department has reached a preliminary conclusion… For the past half a month, they have been repeatedly using their troops to assault our positions and have introduced a new ‘weapon,’ the Spitter Worms. We believe this was all likely a ploy to probe for the location of our artillery positions.”

Pierce also stood up, his face grim with self-reproach. “My teacher is right. We should have realized this sooner… The Demonic Lizardmen are no strangers to fighting us; they’ve long been aware of the power of the Northern Army’s artillery. By using enough troops as bait and targets, and repeating this multiple times, they could quickly determine the general location of our artillery positions.”

Once they had pinpointed the coordinates of the weapon that posed the greatest threat to them, they naturally chose to dig ice tunnels for cover. Under the guise of a slow advance, they lowered the guard of our front-line troops. Then, taking advantage of the limited visibility and reduced operational range of our reconnaissance airships at night, they launched a sudden attack from underground… And midnight is precisely when the entire front-line camp’s defenses are at their most lax.

After all, for a long time, the frequent back-and-forth battles between the two sides had only occurred during the day. Most commanders and soldiers had subconsciously assumed the enemy would not attack at night.

Harvey nodded in approval of the explanation and assessment. “Although the Staff Department and the front-line command bear undeniable responsibility for what happened,” he said slowly, “I do not intend to hold any specific individuals accountable… You just need to remember this lesson. Understand that this non-human race is not like the low-intelligence, frenzied vile orcs or Demons. They are formidable enemies, our equals in both wisdom and strategy.”

He paused, tapping his finger on the closed battle report, and raised his voice to emphasize, “In other words, as the war continues, they will sooner or later evolve more threatening weapons and more advanced combat units… Their intelligence isn’t just demonstrated by imitating us and digging trenches. If we don’t give this our full and undivided attention, they will catch us off-guard again the next time they make a move.”

The heavy casualties among the soldiers were heart-wrenching, but more importantly, it was a blow to the army’s once-abundant confidence in the face of a strong enemy. The myth of the Northern Army’s invincibility must not be shattered so quickly.

The Emperor’s words were a resounding wake-up call, leaving the high-ranking officers present speechless… As the army’s Commander-in-Chief, Pierce naturally felt the pressure most acutely. He quickly knelt on one knee, bowed his head, and responded, “I will take Your Majesty’s command to heart!”

Harvey waved his hand, his tone softening as he gestured for him to rise. “Alright, let’s move on. Tell me about the tactical adjustments you’ve discussed. How should we proceed with the plan to advance on Number Two Floating Island now?”

Astaren cleared his throat and said with a serious expression, “Your Majesty, based on the traces of Demonic Lizardman activity discovered at Upwelling Number 17, we believe there is a high probability that the enemy’s new Number Four Floating Island is hidden there… Therefore, the Staff Department believes that now is not an opportune time to launch a full-scale counter-offensive.”

“Oh? What other conditions must be met? According to the original battle plan, we should have launched the counter-offensive a week ago, shouldn’t we?”

Pierce nodded. “Yes, but now the enemy has two floating island fortresses—one visible, one hidden. It’s highly likely they are using Number Two Floating Island as a decoy. They’ll wait for our main army to push forward, exposing the defensive gap in our rear, and then launch a targeted surprise attack on our main base at the Ice Sea Base.”

Looking at the map, the positions of Number Two Floating Island and the yet-to-be-fully-revealed Number Four Floating Island indeed form a pincer around the Ice Sea Base. A rash attack could easily lead to the awkward situation of being unable to defend both the front and the rear.

Harvey nodded and mulled it over for a moment, frowning in slight dissatisfaction. “The Northern Army is not without experience in fighting a two-front war. What I need from you now is a practical, viable solution to this dilemma… not just a simple halt to the entire plan.”

“We need to expand our intelligence gathering range and develop more effective reconnaissance methods…” Astaren spread his hands, his attitude frank. “Of course, we also need to increase logistical support and medical aid, Your Majesty… We need healers and more artillery!”

The entire front’s current wartime intelligence network relied almost entirely on the floating airships controlled by Aerial Combat Mages. They flew non-stop, twenty-four hours a day, taking off from Snowy Mountain Base, passing through the Ice Sea Base, and finally circling Great Bear Lake before returning… The Spellcasters must pilot the airships while simultaneously conducting spell-like reconnaissance over designated areas. If any trace of enemy activity is found, they must immediately report back to the front-line command post via their alchemical communicators.

However, even the high-speed models of reconnaissance airships can only just match the flight speed of the Winged ones. If they venture too deep into enemy-controlled territory and are swarmed by a group of Demonic Lizardmen, escape is often difficult… Recently, there have been several Aerial Combat Mage squads that, due to overly aggressive maneuvers, were spotted by the dense patrols of Winged ones around Number Two Floating Island. If not for the high-level Mages accompanying them, they nearly would have been shot down in a tragic accident.

This is only the first layer of the intelligence network. After the Demonic Lizardmen’s infiltration attack via ice tunnels… Harvey quickly discussed and devised an updated reconnaissance and early warning plan with Commander-in-Chief Vaughn—to deploy all of the nearly ten thousand micro alchemical beasts he had brought to the ice sea. They would be sent beneath the ice sheet, using natural crevasses in the Icefields to constantly watch for any sign of enemies from below.

Beyond these two reconnaissance methods involving extraordinary elements, the Northern Army at the front could only rely on building watchtowers and posting sentinels to visually survey the enemy’s situation with spyglasses… Sending out scouting parties is fundamentally impractical. Even moving at high speeds in alchemical vehicles and Magic Motorcycles, soldiers on the ground are no match for the fast-flying, winged Winged ones.

If a scouting party were to encounter them on the vast, endless Icefields, they would have virtually no chance of survival, let alone successfully relaying any information back.

“So the problem still comes down to… our lack of absolute air superiority!”

Thinking of this, Harvey’s expression became complicated, and he couldn’t help but sigh.

Only by achieving true, absolute air superiority could they get the fastest intelligence feedback and completely seize the initiative in the war.

At such a difficult time, he couldn’t help but start reminiscing about what he had seen and heard in his past life.

If only he could combine this world’s backward manufacturing techniques with its advanced magic technology… to successfully cobble together something like a fighter jet.

Chapter 679: Battlefield Anecdotes

“Sir, couldn’t you please handle such a minor issue on your own?” The Medic looked at Benny with some exasperation, deftly removing the thick bandages wrapped around his forehead. “After stitching the wound, we applied a tissue-regeneration salve. It’s normal for it to be a bit itchy and uncomfortable. Doesn’t that just mean it’s healing quickly? Look, it’s been less than three days, and we can already take out the stitches.”

Benny grimaced and nodded haphazardly, but in the end, he couldn’t help but plead, “The wound is just too itchy while it’s healing. I’ve barely been able to sleep these past few days. Can’t you just shave the hair around it for me? A little breeze might make it feel better…”

“I’m a military doctor… not a barber.”

The Medic quickly finished removing Benny’s stitches, rolled his eyes, and mercilessly rejected his request. The field medical center at Ice Sea Base was currently overflowing with patients. All the medical personnel were run off their feet every day. Just dealing with the seriously wounded soldiers they’d snatched back from death’s door was already draining all their energy; they had no spare time to deal with unreasonable requests from the lightly wounded.

The halls and corridors of the field hospital were packed with stretchers. Benny wandered around a bit and found he couldn’t even find a place to stand, so he could only leave in disappointment.

Just as he walked out of the hospital, he saw a familiar face.

“Ensign! Ensign Benny!” The young maintenance soldier, Matteo, seemed to have been waiting for him nearby. Seeing him appear, he immediately jogged over excitedly. “Has your injury healed? Those military doctors are amazing!”

Only then did Benny notice that his left hand was also wrapped in thick bandages. During a battle a few days ago, the front protective plate of his machine gun had been shattered by the enemy, and a flying piece of armor shrapnel had happened to sever his little finger.

“How’s your injury? If they couldn’t find your finger on the spot… you’ll have to wait until the war is over, go back to the capital, and request a set of alchemical prosthetics from the senior physicians at the National Infirmary.”

Soldiers disabled due to combat injuries often received priority treatment at the infirmary. Not only was the prosthetic transplant completely free, but the subsequent maintenance and spare part replacements were also continuously subsidized by the government.

Matteo shook his head, a little dejected, and said in a low voice, “My commanding officer told me… an insignificant injury like a severed pinky isn’t worth bothering the senior physicians for surgery. The war will last a long time, and the kingdom’s medical resources will likely remain scarce. It’s best not to trouble them.”

That was also true. For a moment, Benny didn’t know how to comfort him and could only raise a hand to pat his shoulder. He took the initiative to console him, “I heard that a large batch of supplies to reward the troops was transported from Great Bear Lake to the front lines this morning. His Majesty expressed great appreciation for our successful repelling of the Demonic Lizardmen’s major offensive. All frontline personnel who participated in the battle, whether officers or common soldiers, will receive a share of the scarce supplies.”

He paused, squeezed the maintenance soldier’s thin shoulder firmly, and said encouragingly, “And you… although you’re not part of the combat department, you still bravely assisted the frontline soldiers during the attack. I’ve written the entire account in my field report and submitted it to the higher-ups. A commendation should be coming your way soon enough.”

“Really? I… I just helped you carry ammunition boxes and loaded the machine gun ammunition belts, that’s all. That… that counts as a meritorious deed?” Matteo’s eyes widened in disbelieving joy.

Benny let out a laugh. “Of course. It might not have been a difficult task, but that was at the most dangerous moment when the enemy was closing in on our position. You risked your life to help me fight, how could you not get a commendation for that?”

“That’s… that’s great! Really great!” the maintenance soldier said, almost incoherently. “I’m not hoping for a combat medal like the officers dream of. I… I just want the award stipend, that’s enough. That way, my mother and I can quickly save up enough for the down payment on a house in the capital’s outer city!”

Benny suddenly understood. He remembered him mentioning his past before enlisting… Matteo had been a “mine slave” from Bluebramble City. It was just that the brand marking him as a slave was on the back of his neck, and because of his insecurity, he often wore a thick towel like a scarf, which made many people forget his somewhat sensitive foreign identity.

Only his accent was slightly different from the St. Valen natives.

For an Outsider of humble origins like him, granted freedom by His Majesty’s amnesty, the greatest hope for the future was probably to own a piece of fixed property, like a house. After all, a stable home is the foundation for a good life. Gaining official residency in the capital by joining the army, despite the risk of dying on the battlefield, was a shortcut compared to other ways of getting citizenship.

Benny couldn’t help but think of his own deceased relatives. They had journeyed arduously all the way from the old capital, Goldshine City, but were not fortunate enough to reach Starfire City for treatment, dying halfway, tormented by the Rotting Plague.

He had no family left…

After enlisting, he enjoyed generous benefits including room, board, and issued supplies. Besides saving his monthly military pay in the bank, he had no opportunity to even spend it. When he received his deployment orders, he didn’t forget to send a message to his childhood friend, Dave, repeatedly telling him that if he were unfortunately killed in action, he must take his savings and pension. Unfortunately, though the guy agreed, he hadn’t touched a single cent in the account.

Seeing the joyful expression on Matteo’s face, full of hope for the future, Benny couldn’t help but be infected by his emotion. He swallowed and couldn’t stop himself from asking, “A new recruit’s military pay isn’t very high. If you want a loan to buy a house, you probably still have a lot to save. How much more do you need? I can lend…”

Before he could finish, a group of soldiers from the same Battalion came around the corner of the main road in the frontline camp, waving and shouting, “Ensign, it’s time to eat! Come with us! The reward supplies arrived today, the Barracks mess hall is serving a delicious lunch!”

…

Benny pulled a somewhat bashful and shy Matteo into the crowded mess hall. Only then did he discover that long lines had already formed in front of every serving window. In front of the army cooks, who for a long time had only served grilled wheat cakes and cured meat, several large, wide-mouthed pots were now set up, bubbling and boiling with hot food.

He stood on his toes and peered forward, discovering it was a brand-new type of meal he had never seen before—pale yellow strips, about the thickness of a little finger, were tumbling and rolling in the boiling cauldron. The faint, sweet aroma of boiled wheat, combined with a strong scent of pepper, made him swallow hard.

Matteo, following closely behind him, was even more dramatic; his stomach even started to rumble.

Benny walked quickly to the officer’s serving window, grinning as he squeezed past a few comrades he knew. He took two soup bowls, almost as big as washbasins, from a kitchen helper and held them out in front of the constantly boiling pot.

The cook, wielding two long, thin wooden sticks a bit clumsily, lifted a bundle of the long strips from the pot and placed them in the bowl. Then, from another pot, he ladled up a full scoop of meat chunks mixed with a thick sauce and poured it over the strip-like food.

“What is this?”

“This is a special royal food from His Majesty’s palace! Hmph! It’s about time you all got to enjoy it. It’s made from refined flour ground from wheat, mixed with water and butter and fermented into a soft dough, then pressed into strips with a special mold. His Majesty calls it ‘noodles,’ served with a ‘topping’ of salted beef stewed until tender with pepper. I guarantee that after eating it, you’ll be warm all over, and when you open your mouth, you’ll be able to breathe fire just like those Mage sirs!”

According to His Majesty, this was the ultimate delicacy, best enjoyed on the bone-chilling battlefields of the barren lands!

Chapter 680: The Path of Atonement

“Your Excellency, the Bishop, we’ve just received a notice… The Northern Army’s new batch of relief supplies has arrived at the Holy City’s South Gate.”

Ismael grunted in acknowledgment, rising from the stone bench. He spoke in a gentle voice to the Army of Judgment knight who had come to report. “I understand. Just arrange for someone to receive it as soon as possible.”

The knight bowed and agreed. Just as he was about to turn and leave the simple stone house, he was called back again. “Right, a few days ago… the malaria potion I wrote to them to request, I wonder if it was approved?”

The knight paused for a moment, then it dawned on him. “Yes… they, they said they sent a sufficient amount this time, but it’s not an oral potion. It’s an injectable.”

An injectable? A method where a sharp, hollow needle pierces the skin to directly introduce the liquid medicine into the body?

Ismael couldn’t help but frown slightly. As expected… this was undoubtedly some strange method developed by that Mage Emperor and the alchemists under his command.

After leading the followers back to the Holy City, they had been placed under complete surveillance and confined to Goris, which had been almost entirely reduced to ruins. Although they relied entirely on the Northern Army’s monthly scheduled relief supplies for food and clothing, they had to find their own shelter and daily drinking water.

After the unprecedentedly bloody battle, most of the wells that were once commonplace in Goris had been bombed and buried. The Army of Judgment had spent a great deal of effort to clear out several wellheads, and a large number of believers began to use these precious water supply points frequently and in concentration.

Who would have thought that after several heavy rains, a large number of unburied or unburned corpses were soaked for a long time, and the sewage seeped into the Holy City’s underground water system, silently contaminating their water sources. After a long period of drinking raw water… a terrifying outbreak of malaria began to appear among the commoner believers. Coupled with the arrival of summer, a large number of mosquitos biting the infected only exacerbated the rampant spread of the disease.

The Holy See’s contingent had originally included a large number of healing priests, acolytes, and clerics, who could handle an ordinary disease that didn’t involve supernatural elements with ease. But as the number of infected people multiplied, they gradually became overwhelmed, running themselves ragged day and night in the newly built temporary settlement.

Many of the infected suffered from continuous chills and high fevers, and after a few days, they began to experience intermittent convulsions and deep comas. This finally forced Ismael and Riviera’s hand, compelling them to swallow their pride and request aid from the “jailers” stationed outside the Holy City.

Fortunately, when it came to a matter of life and death, the consistently cold Northern Army took it seriously. Not long after the request was reported, the alchemical potions were transported over with the relief supplies, bringing a huge sigh of relief to Ismael, who had long since stopped caring about his personal pride.

Over this period, they had finally managed to completely clear the area near the ruins of the Church of Divine Grace. Using the broken walls and ruins of the church as a foundation, they rebuilt a temporary settlement. It had also taken considerable effort to venture deep into the intricate underground sewers of the Holy City. At a terrible cost, they had wiped out the remnants of the non-human races hiding within, finally managing to establish a firm foothold in the ruins of the Holy City.

And according to their agreement, the Northern Army had delivered the urgently needed relief supplies on time and in full, without any deductions… Seeing this, perhaps they could be bold enough to request some swords and weapons to supplement and replace the knights’ old weapons, which were already chipped and blunted from use.

At this thought, he returned to the desk with a broken leg, pulled out a somewhat coarse sheet of papyrus, picked up a charcoal pencil, and began to jot things down. He planned to have the knight in charge hand the list to the Northern Army soldiers delivering the supplies next time.

Just then, Bishop Riviera pushed the door open in a hurry and said to Ismael in a low voice, “That intelligence officer named Beetle is here again… He says he has an urgent matter and needs to meet with both of us.”

Oh? That… intelligence officer whom Ismael and Riviera, in a moment of gallows humor, had nicknamed “the Warden.”

Why the sudden request for a meeting?

As de facto “prisoners,” the two Cardinals certainly didn’t think he would condescend to enter the ruins of the Holy City himself. Without bothering to inquire about the specifics of the meeting, they quickly lifted their somewhat dirty and damaged bishop’s robes and hurried to the city gate, followed by knights of the Army of Judgment.

…

When they reached the South Gate and were led into a simple guard post tent set up outside the city, Ismael and Riviera were stunned to find that accompanying the intelligence officer Beetle was someone they hadn’t seen in a long time—the Pope’s own Secret Prayer Acolyte… Priest Garrett!

“Garrett! I… I thought you had long since been…”

Garrett stood up and greeted the two bishops with a gentle expression. “You thought that after being captured in the Battle of Bluebramble City, I was secretly executed by the St. Valen army after completing my mission of delivering His Holiness the Pope’s secret message, didn’t you?”

Riviera nodded in disbelief and said in a low voice, “That’s right. Given the hostile relationship between us and St. Valen at the time, bristling with hostility, it was impossible for someone like you, a direct confidant of His Holiness, to have been spared… Even if you weren’t sentenced to death, I’m afraid you would have faced lifelong imprisonment in a sunless dungeon.”

After all, with Garrett’s tough mind and devout faith, he would never commit the despicable act of apostasy and surrender. A good end was certainly not what awaited him.

The intelligence officer Beetle, who had been silent all this time, chuckled softly, gave Garrett a meaningful nod, and said lightly, “I’ll give you half an hour for your meeting. I won’t stay and disturb you.”

With that, he rose nonchalantly and left the tent.

“What does he mean by that?” Ismael’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Did he personally summon us here just to bring you over to catch up with us?”

Garrett coughed awkwardly and, after a moment’s thought, said slowly, “No, it’s not just to catch up. I am also here bearing an order from His Majesty the Emperor, which I must clearly convey to you both.”

An order from the Emperor?

Riviera frowned slightly, puzzled. “Has His Majesty the Emperor finally lost his patience and decided to make a move against us struggling exiles?”

Garrett quickly explained, “It’s not like that. His Majesty does not intend to wipe us out… Nor have I ever renounced my faith and sworn fealty to him. I have come this time on His Majesty’s behalf to ask you two bishops if, in the war of extermination against the Demonic Lizardmen, the Holy See is still willing to join hands with the United Kingdom to resist our great enemy together?”

Resist the non-human invasion together? That Mage Emperor in the Northern Realm intended to let bygones be bygones… to join hands with the Holy See again to fight the enemy?

“But… but we don’t have enough troops right now. After the chaos and collapse, we have fewer than three thousand Army of Judgment knights who can still be sent into battle. If even the people of St. Valen, with their powerful magical weapons, cannot defeat the non-human races, what use can our routed forces be?”

Garrett shook his head and smiled. “His Majesty the Emperor does not need the Army of Judgment knights on the battlefield… What he wants are the numerous low- and mid-ranking priests and acolytes currently in the Holy City—the ones capable of casting divine healing spells. They are already engaged in direct combat with the non-human races deep in the barren lands and are in dire need of healers who can treat ordinary soldiers.”

Their battlefield lacks healers… so they plan to have ordinary priests and acolyte clerics step in to help?

Ismael and Riviera were completely stunned, unsure how to respond for a long time… In a way, shouldering the heavy responsibility of leading the human race against heretical invasions had always been the undeniable, sacred duty of the Holy See since its founding. The ones who should truly be standing on the front lines against the non-human races ought to have been them, the unwavering guardians of the Holy See.

“Then… if we agree to send them to the front lines, will His Majesty the Emperor choose to trust us? Or will we need to wear shackles to restrict our freedom, or be constantly monitored by someone at our side?”

“That shouldn’t be the case. The battle is exceptionally heated… If we can contribute, we will naturally gain their approval. Moreover, His Majesty personally promised me that not only will he not force the priests who go as reinforcements to abandon their faith, but he will also allocate more relief supplies to Goris as a reward based on our contributions. He has only strictly forbidden proselytizing within the army.”

This would be a tremendous help in rebuilding the Holy City and preserving the last flame of the Church’s faith!

Chapter 681: The Meaning of Sacrifice

In an open area on the southeast side of the Ice Sea Base, over a thousand soldiers who were not on guard duty stood in neat formation. Led by Commander Vaughn, they held a simple yet solemn military funeral.

No bodies of the fallen soldiers were present for burial. According to the army’s post-battle procedures, these martyrs who had sacrificed their lives fighting on the Icefields would be cremated on-site. Their ashes would then be sent back to the capital, Starfire City, to be interred in the martyrs’ cemeteries on the south side of the city. Their names and heroic deeds would be engraved on the Starfire Monument in the city center for future generations to pay their respects and look upon in admiration.

Therefore, today’s funeral was more of a preliminary ceremony to boost and soothe morale. The Engineers had long since carved out large blocks of solid ice outside the base, fashioning them into a towering, ever-frozen monument. The military tags, representing the serial numbers, names, and origins of the fallen soldiers, were placed inside the ice monument and frozen along with it.

When the more than three hundred metal military tags glinted and shimmered like silver specks under the sunlight through the crystalline monument, everyone attending the funeral fell silent. Many soldiers whose close comrades had tragically died fought back their grief, standing solemnly with reddened eyes, making the entire ceremony both dignified and sorrowful.

Vaughn took the eulogy from his adjutant, cleared his throat, and leaned into the alchemical amplifier, beginning to read in a slow, heavy tone—

“Today, we are gathered here to hold a funeral for the soldiers who fought bravely and unfortunately sacrificed their lives in the battle for the Icefields.”

“With heavy hearts, we bid farewell to our beloved comrades, the loyal guardians of the Kingdom, and the fearless heroes who fought for humanity!”

“They fulfilled their mission with the honor of a soldier, interpreting responsibility and duty with their very lives. Though they now sleep eternally in the ice sea, their indomitable heroic souls will be with us!”

“From this day forward, their names will be forever remembered by the people!”

“From this day forward, their will shall be carried on by those who follow!”

“For His Majesty the Emperor! For the United Kingdom! And for all of humanity!”

“May the departed rest in peace, and may the heroes be immortal!”

“All personnel! Salute!”

Following the Commander’s lead, all the soldiers raised their hands in unison, balled them into fists, and struck their chests forcefully, paying the highest respect to the fallen with a military salute, a silent farewell.

Afterward, they were dismissed. Many people still lingered before the frozen monument, some touching their foreheads to the ice and whispering softly, others gathering in small groups, weeping and sobbing, pouring out their grief and reluctance to part with their departed comrades.

Benny’s battalion headquarters was the unit that suffered the most casualties in this battle. His Company alone had lost over ten veterans, among them, of course, were close friends with whom he had fought side-by-side since enlisting.

He stood silently before the monument, his head slightly raised, motionless, as if he were intently studying the military tags frozen within the ice, wanting to commit every name engraved upon them to memory.

As the crowd gradually dispersed, someone gently patted Benny on the shoulder from behind.

He turned, startled, to find that it was again the young maintenance soldier, Matteo, holding an iron flask and offering it to him with a smile.

“Ensign, you’ve been standing here in the cold wind for over an hour. Have a sip of vodka to warm yourself up!”

Benny frowned slightly, puzzled. “Icefield Vodka? This is a rare commodity on the battlefield. Where did you get it?”

Soldiers on garrison and combat duty were strictly forbidden from drinking alcohol on a normal day. Only on their days off or in special circumstances where it was needed to fend off the cold and save their lives would they be issued a small amount of Icefield Vodka. But a low-ranking logistics maintenance soldier like Matteo had neither the quota nor the qualification to receive such a scarce battlefield supply.

Matteo grinned and said in a low voice, “It was from the supplies issued to reward the troops a few days ago. I got an extra ration of cigarettes, but I don’t really like them, so I traded them with my Sir for the hard liquor.”

Benny forced a wry smile, took the flask from him, and held it in a daze.

Matteo could see his low spirits and subconsciously wanted to offer a few words of comfort, but he didn’t know what to say.

“Giving me liquor for no reason. Are you trying to comfort me?”

The young maintenance soldier shook his head and stammered, “Ensign, you don’t seem particularly sad… I just think you look very lonely.”

Lonely?

Benny couldn’t say for sure. He put an arm around the new recruit’s shoulder, and they walked back toward the base side-by-side.

“My hometown is a small village called Perch Town, just outside the old capital, Goldshine City. I used to be an ordinary laborer on the docks. On a good day, I could earn enough to buy half a pound of rye bread, but sometimes when I couldn’t find work, I had to go hungry.”

“Perch Town is famous for its Ralph River perch. You’re from Bluebramble City in Alid, so you probably haven’t tasted the summer perch from my home. The taste of a stew made with freshly caught, plump perch and wild hazel mushrooms is even more delicious than that beef noodle soup we had the other day.”

Matteo swallowed hard, his face full of longing. “Really? When the war is over, if I can be honorably discharged… maybe I’ll choose to settle down in the capital. But I’ll find a job as an airship mail carrier. That way, I’ll have the chance to visit your hometown, Ensign. Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to taste that delicacy!”

Seeing the new recruit’s innocent and yearning expression, Benny, whose memories had been stirred, couldn’t help but curve his lips into a smile. “Maybe we’ll be discharged together. With our retirement stipends, we won’t have to work so hard anymore. It would be nice to travel to Perch Town together.”

Matteo nodded vigorously, then, as if remembering something, he asked cautiously, “Then your family… do they still live in Perch Town?”

Benny paused, then said faintly, “Not anymore… A terrible plague once broke out in Goldshine City. They all passed away while fleeing north.”

With that, he lifted the flask he had been clutching and took a large swig of the cold, strong liquor, then let out a long breath.

“I had three close friends I’d fought alongside since I enlisted. They also died in the battle a few days ago… They were killed at their post in the Machine Gun Squad, holding their ground against the Winged ones’ javelins,” Benny said in a calm voice. “I compiled a report on their achievements and performance before they died and submitted it. The Sir said that if it weren’t for their bravery, our battalion headquarters might have suffered even greater casualties.”

Matteo nodded. He had also been on the front lines during that exceptionally brutal surprise attack. He knew very well that without artillery suppression or rear support, returning fire against a fierce and fearless enemy charge was an act that completely disregarded one’s own life and death. Without sufficient courage and a sense of duty, it was simply impossible.

But were they truly not afraid of death? In the moment before death, did not a trace of fear or hesitation well up from the depths of their hearts?

Benny seemed to sense Matteo’s confusion and asked with a smile, “It’s common for soldiers to die on the battlefield. Cherishing life and fighting bravely are not contradictory. If we want to protect our country and our homes, to protect the good life we’ve fought so hard for, we must always be prepared to sacrifice everything for it.”

As he spoke, he pointed a finger meaningfully at the insignia embroidered on Matteo’s military uniform and said with a frank attitude, “Sacrifice is unavoidable in any battle. Yesterday it was them, today it’s the comrades beside us, and tomorrow it might be you or me. In the past, we were all poor people of low status, but now we have become respected professional soldiers. Compared to dying of hunger and cold in a mine or a hovel, how glorious it is to die on the battlefield, to have your name remembered forever. That is enough.”

It was just as his old battalion commander, Newman, had often taught him—this is the meaning of sacrifice.

Chapter 682: Repeating Shotgun

“This thing looks just like the explosive bolt guns the Bloodline Warriors use…” Pierce leaned over the assembly table, carefully examining the prototype weapon placed upon it. “The entire weapon is just a scaled-up version of the explosive bolt gun. I can’t see any difference between the two.”

“Your Majesty… is this weapon an explosive bolt gun Mark II? And one that needs two or three people to carry?”

Harvey shook his head, a mysterious smile on his face. “It is indeed a scaled-up and upgraded version of the explosive bolt gun. While their structure is largely the same, its power is on a completely different level… This thing is a repeater!”

“A re…peater?” Now even Chris, the man in charge of manufacturing weapons for Harvey, looked perplexed. He awkwardly repeated the new term Harvey had coined. “Your Majesty, when you gave me the blueprints, didn’t you say it was called a shotgun?”

Harvey coughed in slight embarrassment and waved his hand. “That’s not important. Call it whatever you want. You just need to know it was specifically designed to be equipped by the Starfire Warriors.”

Pierce’s face lit up with understanding… No wonder he felt this weapon was completely unsuitable for ordinary soldiers. Even without picking it up to test its weight, its size and shape alone were more exaggerated than a Portable Cannon. Its weight was likely several times greater.

It was as if it were a custom-made weapon for Giants over three meters tall.

Other than the Starfire Warriors clad in their Magicalized Armor, no one in the Northern Army could easily handle such a unique, heavy, man-portable weapon.

“So… the Starfire Warriors’ combat style will still be to attack the enemy with this kind of giant magical energy weapon? But why are you still training them in melee combat techniques, Your Majesty? Wouldn’t it be more important for them to master aiming and firing the shotgun sooner?”

Harvey, however, simply waved his hand and asked in return, “Do you all think that I’m training and forming this armored combat unit just to be like Bloodline Warriors in Magicalized Armor?”

Seeing Pierce, Chris, and the others all nod in agreement, he gave a helpless, wry smile and began to explain patiently.

From the battles with the Demonic Lizardmen so far, everyone, including Harvey, had noticed a problem: the Demonic Lizardmen possessed an extremely strong capacity for combat evolution and tactical imitation. When the Airship fleet appeared, they quickly responded by creating anti-air measures like the black water vents on the surface of the Floating Island.

When the Northern Army possessed superior long-range firepower, the Demonic Lizardmen would quickly evolve a counterpart like the Spitter Worms to engage in bombardments from hundreds of meters away.

Even the Winged ones, an incredibly mobile and versatile all-purpose unit, only came into existence after their side had dispatched high-level Mages who could also fly.

The vast majority of the Northern Army was composed of mortal soldiers who lacked any equivalent ability to evolve. This meant that when ordinary soldiers faced the evolved units of the Demonic Lizardmen head-on, it was difficult to gain a significant advantage in a short amount of time, to say nothing of the bizarre and varied attack methods they might develop in the future.

Since they were already psychologically prepared for a long war against these non-human races, the best way to lay the groundwork for potential future predicaments was to always stay one step ahead in weapons technology!

And the Starfire Warriors, a special armored unit with the potential for upgrades and evolution, were the optimal solution Harvey could conceive.

In a sense, they were indeed born from the traditional Bloodline Warriors, simultaneously possessing ultra-high mobility, adaptability to all-terrain warfare, proficiency in solo operations, and extremely strong small-unit assault capabilities—a truly all-purpose unit.

In addition to being equipped with the repeating shotgun, a personal long-range firearm, Harvey would also provide them with a set of magical-powered melee weapons called “chainswords,” turning them into deadly killers specifically designed to counter the evolved units of the non-human races.

Listening to Harvey’s long and impassioned speech, Pierce was completely stunned by this unheard-of “Theory of Unit Evolution.” Finally, he stammered, “Your Majesty… with the kingdom’s current level of magical technology and weapons manufacturing… can we really guarantee the successful implementation of this astonishing vision?”

Chris chuckled, pointing to the black metal box next to the shotgun, and boasted with a proud look, “His Majesty’s great, era-defining ideas have all been brought to fruition through the tireless efforts of the kingdom’s Alchemy Laboratory. While the chainsword is still in the experimental research and development phase, the shotgun has taken its initial shape and is ready for combat… We’ve even developed specialized magical explosive ammunition for it.”

As he spoke, he lifted the lid of the ammunition box in front of him, revealing a neat row of bullets shining with the luster of magicalized metal, which nearly made Pierce’s jaw drop.

How could those be called bullets? Each one was the size of a baby’s fist, as crystal clear as a magic stone, with a smooth, flowing surface… They were even inscribed with countless complex and esoteric magical runes.

The more Pierce looked, the more something felt off. After comparing the size and structure of the shotgun and the magical explosive bullets, he said with doubt and alarm, “That’s not right… Your Majesty, didn’t you say the shotgun is a heavy-firepower weapon capable of continuous fire? But… but with magical explosive bullets this large, it seems a shotgun’s Magazine well can only fit one at a time. How can it achieve sustained fire?”

“Who told you one bullet can only fire one shot?” Harvey casually picked up a round from the box and toyed with it in his hand, a smile playing on his lips. “This is a mutated magic stone created using the Dominion core. It stores an extremely high concentration of pure magical energy. After being loaded into the shotgun, it can be repeatedly triggered to release energy-bolt beams until the compressed magical energy within is completely depleted.”

“Then… what about its power?”

“The Starfire Warriors haven’t actually test-fired this weapon yet, but judging by the order of magnitude of its energy, the mana fluctuation released by a single shot is comparable to the explosion of a Portable Cannon’s ammunition.”

Pierce was utterly horrified. If the tests were successful, wouldn’t a Starfire Warrior be the equivalent of a walking, rapid-fire artillery platform? No wonder they only needed to form small units of two or three, and primarily operated as individual combatants.

Thinking about the Starfire Warrior apprentices, who had been selected from a large pool of new recruits and had now undergone nearly two months of high-intensity training, Pierce found himself growing restless and eager.

“Your Majesty… when can the Starfire Warriors be officially deployed to the battlefield? I can’t wait to see them slaughtering those detestable non-human monsters like chickens and dogs!”

Harvey pondered for a moment, then smiled. “No rush. Give them a few more months… let them Sharpen themselves further. I am looking forward to it just as much.”

Chapter 683: Practicing Faith

Simmons was half-awake, half-asleep amidst a persistent high fever.

His muddled mind was filled with a multitude of bizarre and fantastical memory fragments… At times, he seemed to return to the Holy City of Goris on the eve of its destruction, leading believers in morning and evening prayers outside the still-majestic Cathedral of Divine Grace.

At other times, he found himself on the shattered city walls, watching helplessly as his comrades and kin were torn to shreds by the lances and sharp claws of the non-human calamity.

The dream scene finally solidified in the completely razed City of Grace. He stood beneath the tottering city gate, looking up at the sky, but no matter how he tried, he could no longer find the sacred sun that represented the home of his faith.

Although he hadn’t received the Lord’s call as he’d imagined, bathing in the radiance of grace and entering His kingdom in heaven… Simmons didn’t feel any despair. Even as his life was about to end, he felt he had a clear conscience on his past life’s path of piety.

He only hoped for a swift end to this agonizing suffering, to finally reach the realm of eternal slumber.

“Simmons! Simmons… Wake up!”

In a daze, it seemed someone was calling his name by his ear. Then, his body was propped up, and a cool liquid touched his chapped lips. A primal instinct to survive surged within him, and he struggled to open his mouth and swallow in small gulps.

“Alright! He’s responding. After the malaria injection, just give him some more medicinal soup and he’ll wake up soon.”

That was… High Priest Donovan’s voice!

The high priest himself was feeding him medicine and repeatedly calling his name!

Overwhelmed with emotion, Simmons forced his eyes open, only to find… the ceiling above him was swaying rhythmically, and the bed he was lying on creaked and rocked along with it.

“High… High Priest Donovan, where… where are we? Is there an earthquake…”

He was halfway through his sentence when a wave of intense dizziness washed over him. Weakened from being bedridden for so long due to his illness, he couldn’t support himself any longer and lay back down with the high priest’s help.

The elderly high priest, his hair lightly streaked with gray, touched his forehead and comforted him in a gentle voice, “Don’t worry, there’s no earthquake. You’re just feeling unwell from your illness and weakness. You’ll get better soon.”

He paused, then slowly explained, “We are currently on an alchemical wheeled vehicle that is in motion.”

Alchemical wheeled vehicles? Magical constructs!

Simmons snapped fully awake. He forced himself to turn his neck and look around, realizing he was indeed inside a small, enclosed compartment moving at high speed. Through a gap in the fabric-covered window, he could vaguely see the outside scenery flashing past.

“Wait… we’re not in the Holy City anymore? Why… what happened?”

“The destination of this alchemical wheeled vehicle… is Starfire City in the Northern Barren Lands. You’ve been unconscious with a high fever from the epidemic for almost a week. To help you recover as quickly as possible, I had to bring you along… This way, I can get the specific remedy from the Valen people in time to save your life.”

Simmons opened his mouth, but it felt like something was caught in his throat. After a long moment, he managed to croak out, “The Valen people… are they taking us to their capital for judgment? What kind of cruel treatment will we face? Public trial followed by execution?”

The old high priest gave a bitter smile and reassured him, “No, we won’t be put on trial. His Majesty the Emperor has conscripted us to go to the battlefields in the barren lands to assist his soldiers against the non-human calamity from the north.”

Conscripted for the battlefield?

Simmons was completely stunned. Didn’t they always see the Holy See as an irreconcilable, mortal enemy? Why the sudden change in attitude?

Besides… Ceremonial Priests like himself and High Priest Donovan had never studied any divine arts that could aid in combat. While not entirely defenseless, they had no real fighting capability to speak of.

Could it be that the war with the non-humans has turned so dire for the humans that the magical Emperor has resorted to sending large numbers of innocents to the front as cannon fodder?

At this thought, the will to live that had just flickered within Simmons was instantly extinguished by his even more desperate situation. He lay back down, his eyes lifeless, and said dejectedly, “High Priest, there’s no need to beg the Valen people for a potion for me anymore. Going to the front lines is as good as being dead anyway. I can’t bear to see you suffer any more unwarranted humiliation from those heretics.”

Donovan shook his head helplessly. Just as he was about to explain the whole story in detail, the door at the far end of the swaying compartment was suddenly pushed open.

“You’ve got one foot in the grave, yet you’re still acting so tough…” Intelligence Officer Beetle walked in, clad in a black uniform, a sneer on his lips. “If you don’t want to live anymore, that’s simple enough. I’ll have the soldiers carry you out and throw you from the vehicle later. It’ll save you from any more heartless humiliation from us heretics.”

“You! You…”

Simmons recognized this terrifying figure, secretly nicknamed “the Warden” by the exiled believers in the ruins of the Holy City. Shocked and enraged, he didn’t dare to retort, fearing that completely angering the man would implicate the old high priest who had been taking care of him.

Donovan quickly tried to smooth things over, speaking to the intelligence officer in a somewhat subservient tone, “My lord, please don’t mind his disrespectful words. The boy has been tormented by the epidemic for too long; the fever has muddled his mind…”

Beetle, however, waved his hand dismissively and sneered, “His Majesty, with his magnanimous and benevolent heart, chose to forgive and pardon you fanatics for the many sins you committed in St. Valen in the past. He even placed enough trust in you to conscript you for the front lines, to fight alongside our brave soldiers. Don’t you always claim to bear the great responsibility of saving the Humans of the south and resisting the northern calamity?”

He paused. “What? Now that you hear you’re being sent to the front lines, you finally show your true colors as cowards who cling to life? What a bunch of hypocritical holy rollers!”

Provoked by this torrent of derision that twisted black into white, Simmons’s eyes turned red as if they were about to shoot fire. No longer caring if he offended the man, he retorted sharply, “Nonsense! Even if I’m not a battle priest or an Inquisitorial Knight, for the sake of protecting the south and saving the common people, I am willing to stand on the front lines against the non-humans! I would never commit such a cowardly act!”

The intelligence officer grunted twice, clearly having no intention of getting into a war of words with this young, hot-headed priest. He handed a potion in a crystal glass vial to Donovan and left without a backward glance.

Simmons took a couple of heavy breaths and turned to the old high priest. “High Priest Donovan, how many believers and Inquisitorial Knights did they conscript from the Holy City? Did they issue us protective gear and weapons?”

Donovan pressed him down by the shoulders, making him lie back on the stretcher bed without argument, and then patiently explained, “Don’t be rash. We’re not going to the front lines to fight the non-humans, but to use our proficiency in divine healing spells to help heal their mortal soldiers who are unfortunately wounded in battle.”

At this point, a look of confusion and bewilderment crossed the old high priest’s face. “It’s just that their choice of personnel is very strange… they only accept priests and clerics from commoner backgrounds for enlistment. They seem to show no interest in the high-ranking and more powerful noble priests and high priests, and as for the Inquisitorial Knights… they haven’t conscripted a single one.”

Now Simmons was completely stunned… Could it be that they were really sending a group like them to the front lines just to treat the wounded?

Chapter 684: The Unsophisticated “Holy Rollers”

Whoo—

The long, drawn-out sound of a horn came from outside the window as the rumbling train slowly pulled into the station, coming to a stop right alongside the platform.

Simmons quietly lifted a corner of the curtain and tilted his head to peek outside… This place, called the Central Station, was vast. Several huge metal locomotives were parked side-by-side on parallel tracks. Under the deft direction of the station workers, train drivers were coupling the locomotives to one carriage after another, some enclosed, some open. The most incredible train had a single locomotive pulling seven or eight carriages—fully loaded, its cargo probably weighed over a million pounds.

This was by no means an achievement possible through mortal strength; it could only be accomplished through inscrutable magic and alchemy.

It was just… in the past, the Church had regarded such magical constructs as blasphemy, mainly because spellcasters attempted to use these reality-bending creations to advance to higher, extraordinary levels of existence. To seek to touch the authority of the gods with a mortal body was, naturally, an unquestionable act of heresy.

But the magical constructs before him were neither used to assist spellcasters in battle nor were they the results of magical experiments… they were ordinary vehicles, pulling carriages full of grain, cloth, vegetables, fruits, and spices.

And besides hauling cargo, the public could also take the train to travel throughout the kingdom. It was extremely convenient and comfortable for journeys both long and short, even faster than the ironclad ships that sailed the Ralph River.

Simmons and the others had first been taken in batches from Goris aboard transport airships, arriving in Wangshan Prefecture on the border of St. Valen… From there, they traveled a stretch by water to the old capital, Goldshine City, and finally boarded a train in Goldshine City to head straight north.

A journey that once would have taken nearly half a month by horse-drawn carriage was now completed in less than three days, thanks to the train’s ceaseless, rumbling travel day and night.

This made it difficult for him to cling firmly to his old convictions and call these astounding magical constructs “blasphemous, heretical creations.”

And the plague he had accidentally contracted while treating the faithful had nearly healed during the few days of travel, thanks to injections and oral magic potions… In this, the St. Valen people had not chosen to stand idly by. On one hand, the priests and clerics conscripted from the ruins of the Holy City would be useful on the front lines in the barren lands.

On the other hand, it was likely out of concern that they might be carrying the disease, and that it could spread upon their arrival in the capital of the Northern Realm.

Hearing the loud shouts of the train attendant, passengers began to disembark from the carriages… He looked at the people and travelers coming and going on the platform. Most were dressed in fine, new clothes, smiles on every face, and an indescribable vitality in their every movement.

Looking down at his own somewhat tattered and filthy priest’s robe, Simmons couldn’t help but give a bitter smile. He discreetly tugged at the hem of his robe, trying his best to smooth out the wrinkles.

A tremendous roar sounded overhead. It was, of course, the magical airships flying past.

Simmons followed his group, led by the officer in charge of “escorting” them. They soon exited the Central Station and waited for the official who was supposed to receive them to arrive… He rubbed his eyes, hardly able to believe what he was seeing.

—Standing on slightly higher ground outside the station, his gaze traveled over rows of neatly arranged, dark-grey buildings. Beyond them, he saw immense structures soaring into the clouds, punching toward the sky… a whole architectural complex, rising to a height of nearly a hundred meters, far more magnificent than any ordinary Mage Tower.

No wonder they called this grand, solitary city in the Northern Realm the second City of Magic, Araye. Though it lacked the floating Celestial Domain, the cityscape before him was nothing short of a miracle.

How much magical material and how much effort from spellcasters would it take to build a magical city with a footprint so much larger than Araye’s?

Simmons couldn’t help but recall an account recorded in the annals of the Holy See. The Holy City of Goris, less than one-fifth the size of Starfire City, had required the conscription of nearly one hundred thousand laborers and believers from the nations of the south. Its construction had taken almost twenty years to complete, and the blood and sweat that went into it were self-evident.

As for Starfire City, the new capital of St. Valen, he dared not even imagine the time, manpower, and resources it must have required… To be able to control and manage such a prosperous and wondrous magical citadel, it was no wonder that Magic Emperor had successfully defeated the Church and the secular nobility, replacing the former royal family upon the supreme throne.

The official responsible for receiving their party arrived in a hurry in a wheeled vehicle, greeting the “escorting” officer apologetically. “My apologies for the rudeness. Today is the anniversary of the capital’s founding… I was delayed for a bit at the commemoration ceremony, so I’m a little late.”

The officer shrugged nonchalantly, accepted the cigarette the man offered him, and glanced over his shoulder. “This is the first batch of healing clerics conscripted from the Holy City. There are three hundred and sixty-eight of them in total. All have been background-checked; they’re all from commoner backgrounds.”

The official from the Ministry of Health nodded in satisfaction and addressed Simmons and the others. “I will be leading you from here. Please remain orderly and follow me to board the vehicles to the Military Barracks.”

Even upon reaching the capital of St. Valen, the Northern Army and the kingdom’s officials still didn’t seem to have any intention of treating them differently. What greeted Simmons’s party were not whips or shackles, but the same casual arrangements one would make for a squad of ordinary soldiers conscripted from out of town.

But on second thought, it made sense… a group of non-combatant priests and clerics like them really wasn’t worth the trouble of intense surveillance and control.

Riding in an equally fast alchemical wheeled vehicle, they sped along a straight, flat road. The houses on both sides were neat, and the streets were lined with green trees. Crowds of people thronged before the numerous markets and shops, a clear sign of booming business. The people on the streets were either hurrying past on odd-looking two-wheeled vehicles or strolling in groups of three or five, carrying heavy leather bags and chatting and laughing as they went.

Simmons’s vehicle happened to pass by one such group, and with a slight turn of his head, he could see what was in their bulging bags… It was not rye, the usual staple for the poor in the south, but fresh meat, carefully wrapped but still faintly seeping grease, soft and fluffy-looking white bread, and some fresh fruits and vegetables he had never seen before.

These were all things usually found only on a noble’s dining table.

Considering St. Valen’s claim to have completely abolished the hereditary system of ennoblement, and that the former nobles in the city possessed only empty titles with no real power—aside from the Emperor himself… Simmons naturally wouldn’t mistake these people for servants buying ingredients for nobles. But if they were ordinary commoners, could they actually afford such expensive fresh meat?

Hadn’t he heard that resources in the barren lands were far scarcer than in the south? After all, for nearly half the year, the land was in the grip of a frigid winter, making it impossible to cultivate the frozen soil for as long as was possible in the central regions of the south.

Could it be a gift from His Majesty the Emperor, who was said to be benevolent and generous, bestowed upon all the city’s citizens for the important annual celebration?

Chapter 685: City of “Heresy”

As the wheeled vehicle slowed, he cautiously leaned toward the official who had come to receive them and asked in confusion, “I just heard you say that today is Founding Day. It must be the most important festival in the capital, yes? I see the people carrying many expensive ingredients. Are they a generous gift from His Majesty the Emperor?”

The official glanced at him, but without much of the expected disgust or contempt. Instead, he smiled and said, “Founding Day isn’t a particularly important holiday; we only get half a day off… As for a gift, why would His Majesty give away a pile of ordinary ingredients? The things they’re carrying, aren’t they the most common items in the market? They’re things that appear on the dinner table every day. What does that have to with His Majesty?”

Simmons’s expression froze—fresh meat, white bread baked from finely milled wheat flour, a wide variety of fresh fruits and vegetables, and even rare spices as valuable as their weight in gold pounds were, in this city of the Northern Realm, called the most common things in the market… and were food that appeared on the people’s tables every day.

It couldn’t be possible that everyone in Starfire City could afford these things, could it? Were there no poor people or beggars? Or perhaps that Emperor disliked seeing the lower classes in his city and had driven all the paupers and beggars away?

The official seemed to have read his mind. He chuckled, his tone filled with a deep, indescribable pride, and patiently explained, “Meat, white bread, fruits, vegetables, and spices… they truly are the daily food of the common folk. We’re different from the other nations of the south. His Majesty strictly controls the prices of grain and agricultural products, keeping them extremely low all year round. Even the lowest-earning commoners in the capital can afford to eat them at every meal.”

The grain and agricultural products from the state-run farms were strictly price-controlled…

Private merchants could trade freely without paying taxes, so long as they strictly abided by the law forbidding the export of grain…

Scarce goods and expensive spices imported from foreign lands were purchased by the state in bulk and then sold to the populace at low prices…

Workers who held official residency in the capital and had signed long-term work contracts with the government even enjoyed the privilege of free medical care when they fell ill, and their children could enroll in schools established by the state.

When the elderly were no longer able to work, the state would even regularly issue them a subsidy called a “pension” to help them through the final journey of their lives, so they would not freeze or starve to death miserably in the slums after losing their ability to work, especially if their children were still too poor to support them.

In the past, the Church would also provide relief to these people on special celebration days… but the number of people it could help was extremely limited. Compared to the sheer number of lower-class citizens who made up the majority in the cities, the alms-houses built throughout the nations of the south were always just a drop in the bucket.

Starfire City was said to be home to nearly one hundred thousand people. To provide relief and subsidies that covered such a massive population would require an unimaginable amount of wealth.

Besides, even if the Emperor ruled an entire kingdom, it was hard to imagine him being so selfless and generous… Simmons came from a commoner family and had previously held his own complaints against the greedy and selfish nobles. He knew all too well how miserly and hypocritical they were; they would never cast an extra glance or spare any wealth for the people struggling at the bottom.

If this was all just to win the hearts of the people and secure their support and loyalty, it was far too excessive.

Though it was also one of the nations of the south, what Simmons had seen and heard in this short time made him feel that this country simply couldn’t be mentioned in the same breath as the other kingdoms. He even had the uncanny feeling they shouldn’t exist in the same world… Its strength and prosperity were far beyond a normal person’s imagination, incomparable even to the Holy City of Goris, the so-called heaven on earth.

The people living in this city… no, not just this city. It should be said that in most of the cities of St. Valen they had passed through on their journey, the spirit and lifestyle of the commoners were completely different from those in other nations. The expressions of joy and hope for the future they wore could not be faked, no matter what.

These common people, who had once struggled on the brink of hardship and starvation, now seemed to walk with a lighter step. The wide, flat streets were free of overflowing sewage and trash. There were no gang enforcers, beggars, or streetwalkers loitering about, and no sallow, emaciated children stretching out grimy little hands to beg from passersby.

As the wheeled vehicle moved forward, his ears were filled only with the energetic cries of vendors hawking their goods, the polite greetings of passersby doffing their hats to one another, the cheerful laughter of innocent youths playing… and the crisp, occasional ring of a small brass bell.

This, perhaps, was the true heaven on earth, a place where everyone could be described as settling down to live and work in peace…

…

When he finally came back to his senses, the voice of the official in charge of receiving and arranging their placement was still chattering on.

“The kingdom’s Ministry of Health has repeatedly announced through the newspaper that daily diets must be… uh, what’s it called again? Right! A balanced diet! Beef, mutton, fish, fresh fruits and vegetables, and dairy products are all essential. You’re from the south, so you probably don’t know, but it’s very cold here for most of the year. If your nutrition isn’t up to par, you can easily develop night blindness or snow blindness, and that would be a real problem.”

The Priests and a cleric in the same vehicle as him stared with their mouths slightly agape, dumbfounded by these unheard-of new ideas. For a moment, they completely forgot their pitiful status as “prisoners,” as if they were just a group of Outsiders who had newly arrived in the bustling capital to settle down.

An acolyte cleric, no older than seventeen or eighteen, cautiously tugged on Simmons’s sleeve and whispered, “Is… is this really the city of heresy built by a wizard who blasphemes the gods, the one the Bishop told us about before we left?”

Simmons opened his mouth but found he couldn’t make a sound. He looked beseechingly at the high priest Donovan sitting beside him, only to find that he wore the same dazed and bewildered expression.

The old high priest’s expression seemed to waver. He pondered for a long time before taking an opportunity when the official wasn’t looking to lean close to the two of them and whisper, “Remember the purpose of our journey and our special status. Don’t ask questions you shouldn’t… Be as careful as you can in your words and actions. We must not bring disaster upon the believers and Bishops who are still… still trapped in the Holy City. Only if we behave to the satisfaction of the Valen people can they receive more material aid.”

Simmons nodded heavily. “I understand, my lord Donovan. We have a mission on our shoulders. We will certainly not be easily swayed or have our faith in my Lord shaken.”

Yet at that moment, in some unknown place deep in his heart, a crack had quietly opened, causing him, without his realizing it, to slightly alter his long-held perceptions and views.

It was a change that even he himself had not yet noticed.

Chapter 686: Novel Sights

“Stop! We’re here! Everyone off!”

An official in a dark blue uniform was the first to get off the vehicle and stand firm. Holding a folder, he waved and called out, “Gather here for now and wait for further instructions.”

Simmons followed the others off the vehicle in a daze, his gaze irresistibly drawn to the distance… Upon a wide, ceaselessly flowing river, there was a massive bridge spanning both banks, nearly a hundred meters long.

Needless to say, this must have also been achieved with magic and alchemy; an ordinary stone bridge could never do this.

The place where they stood now seemed to be the main gate of the capital’s Military Barracks. A cast-metal sign hanging beside the heavy iron-barred gate confirmed Simmons’s suspicion.

The terrain here was clearly a bit higher than other parts of the capital. Looking down, one could see the bustling scenery of nearly half the city. A towering structure in the city center was clearly visible in the far distance, as was the Imperial Palace, which was also built on high ground but appeared remarkably simple and low-key.

This was, without a doubt, the largest city he had ever seen. Countless buildings stood as densely packed as stars, and the wide, straight roads were all paved with hard bricks and stones. Magical airships overhead and alchemical wheeled vehicles on the roads flowed back and forth ceaselessly, creating a shock for the newcomers that was simply indescribable.

“Now, take your temporary credentials and remember your identification numbers… Director Libelle, who will be officially in charge of you, will now explain things.”

The director paused, his expression serious as he reminded them, “Director Libelle is a student of My lord Egnor, the kingdom’s Minister of Health. You are all aware of your sensitive status, so please cooperate with his work and show him the proper respect.”

The leading high priest, Donovan, quickly said with a humble attitude, “Understood. We were aware of the purpose of this trip before we came. My lord, please do not hesitate to ask if there is anything we can do to help.”

The young official called Libelle stepped forward. It was only then that Simmons suddenly noticed that this man’s features—a high-bridged nose and deep-set eyes—were clearly different from those of the common southerners. On either side of his neatly tied-back curly hair, a pair of pointed ears was openly revealed… He was a half-elf!

The Valen people actually employ a half-elf as a kingdom official?

Simmons found this utterly unbelievable.

Libelle, however, remained impassive. He read from the document in his hand, “Next, please follow instructions to receive injections of immunization potions for various diseases. After completing detailed identity registration and verification, someone will be assigned to arrange your accommodations so you can settle in as soon as possible.”

Vaccine injections again… These Valen people seem particularly concerned with disease control and prevention. I wonder if it’s because of the terrifying Rotting Plague that broke out in the old capital, Goldshine City, that they’re making such a fuss.

Speaking of which, it seemed that most people in the Holy See who knew the inside story had tacitly acknowledged that the plague which had claimed countless lives was actually orchestrated and fueled from the shadows by the radical and fanatical Divine Punishment Faction.

Simmons pinched himself hard, forcibly casting aside the distracting thoughts surging in his mind and focusing his attention on Libelle’s announcement.

Registration and re-verification of identity, and then specially arranged accommodations… As “prisoners,” not being shackled in humiliating manacles was one thing, but they had even prepared a place for them to stay. It probably wouldn’t be a crude, dilapidated shack or a converted cell.

After all, these people really weren’t treating them like prisoners or captives.

Simmons couldn’t help but think that everyone who came this time knew full well they weren’t volunteering to go to the front lines in the barren lands. If the Emperor of St. Valen hadn’t conscripted them, they would have likely spent the rest of their lives under “house arrest” within the ruins of the Holy City, never to step foot outside of Goris again.

And this so-called conscription was, in reality, tinged with a hint of coercion… The bishops didn’t dare refuse. For the sake of securing more relief supplies for their followers, they simply couldn’t refuse.

But for some reason, the treatment they were receiving now—all these arrangements that could be called proper—gave him a strange sense of ease.

Perhaps the Valen people truly intended to join hands with them again, to stand shoulder to shoulder against the non-human calamity from the north.

…

Soon, the group was led into the Military Barracks and taken to an enclosed yard in the southeast corner. They lined up in a long column and received their vaccine injections one by one.

Afterward, each person received a standard issue of supplies: two sets of cotton clothes, thick and thin, made of soft material and with fine craftsmanship, a pair of sturdy cowhide boots to go with them, and all the necessary undergarments and cotton socks. This spared many of the priests and clerics, whose own clothes were dirty and damaged and who had brought no luggage, from embarrassment.

“Although it’s already summer, considering you’ll be heading to the front lines in the barren lands, cold-weather clothing is a must. On a daily basis, try to wear your clerical robes less… they make you look out of place here.”

High Priest Donovan nodded repeatedly, a hint of gratitude on his face. “Please rest assured, Director. I will strictly discipline them from now on. We will stay here quietly and await His Majesty’s official imperial command to dispatch us to the front.”

Seeing his cooperative attitude, Libelle nodded in satisfaction and finally broke into a smile. “It’s true that you can’t wander around the Military Barracks freely. However, if you’re bored in your spare time, you can choose to leave the barracks and take a look around the city…”

What? They were allowed to move freely within the capital?

Surprised whispers immediately broke out in the crowd. “But… but aren’t we about to be sent to the battlefield?”

Libelle shook his head and said calmly, “What good would it do to send you to the battlefield immediately? You still need to undergo specialized field medic training. Only after passing the assessment can you officially go to the front lines as military doctors.”

As he spoke, he held up three fingers and added, “According to Minister Egnor’s estimate, everyone will need at least three weeks of intensive training. Fortunately, most of you Church priests and clerics are literate, which saves us a lot of trouble.”

They would be staying in Starfire City for so long? For some reason, hearing this news, Simmons felt a faint flicker of joy in his heart.

If they were really allowed to move freely in the city, perhaps he could take a good tour and see this city full of novelties.

The half-elf director then patiently answered some more of their questions before his expression suddenly changed. He emphasized sternly, “Although His Majesty is magnanimous and benevolent and has no intention of treating you harshly, and we officials carrying out the orders don’t plan to deliberately make things difficult or humiliate you, the conflict between the Holy See and St. Valen has always existed. I hope you will remember… whether here in the capital or on the future battlefield you are headed to, public proselytizing and spreading that stuff of yours concerning faith in gods is strictly forbidden throughout all of St. Valen.”

He paused, his tone turning icy, with a veiled hint of a warning. “If you are discovered engaging in any clandestine, deviant activities, hmph… then the ones who appear before you won’t be ordinary, mild-mannered officials like us, but the military police in their gray-black uniforms. Believe me… if you fall into their hands, your fate will be even more miserable than being imprisoned in the ruins of Goris.”

Chapter: May Day, Taking a Day Off!

May Day, taking a day off!

Taking a one-day break to go home and be with my parents…

Wishing everyone a Happy Labor Day as well!

Chapter 687: A Myriad of Divine Healing Spells

Three days later, Egnor walked into Harvey’s office with his two students and a thick stack of test records.

“Your Majesty, this is our test on the divine art abilities of the Priests and clerics conscripted from the Holy City…” Egnor handed over the report, his expression somewhat complicated. “I have to say, their abilities are quite uneven, and the divine arts they’ve studied are of all sorts, a real mixed bag…”

“It’s only natural for there to be disparities in their abilities… but isn’t having many different types of divine arts a good thing?” Harvey took the report with great interest and began to flip through it quickly. “The more divine arts they’ve mastered, the wider the range of injuries and illnesses they can help treat. My understanding is correct, isn’t it?”

Egnor and Libelle, the student in charge of managing this group, exchanged a look and said with a wry smile, “Theoretically, that is correct. But if I hadn’t participated in the testing myself, I never would have discovered that casting non-offensive divine arts, much like a Spellcaster’s non-instant spells, requires extensive ritual preparation and preliminary incantations.”

“I’ve heard something to that effect,” Harvey said, nodding in agreement. “Although Priest Garrett, the former Pope’s Secret Prayer Acolyte, is still unwilling to accept my offer to be my advisor on religious affairs… he has had quite a change of heart recently. During our several casual meetings, he revealed many secrets of the Holy See to me.”

Among these, naturally, was the rumor that the creation of the Church’s divine arts relies on the rules governing mana—a taboo that was meant to be an absolute secret within the Holy See.

And with the complete collapse of the Holy See’s power in the south and the former Pope’s apostasy and disappearance… Garrett, as a Secret Prayer Acolyte, had come to realize that the future defense against the non-human race invasion would have to rely on Harvey and his St. Valen United Kingdom. As a result, these secrets, which should have been buried in the dust of history along with the fall of the Holy City, gradually came to light.

Divine arts and magic, in ancient times, originally stemmed from the same source, merely taking different paths… The only difference lies in how they utilize the energy from the Magic Net’s other dimensions.

“Let’s see what effect these various divine healing spells can have on battlefield medicine…”

Harvey flipped through the report in his hands, page by page, his brow furrowing slightly after just a glance.

Prayer Spell… A simple divine art commonly mastered by low-rank Priests and clerics. Its effect is to calm the recipient’s mind, helping them overcome intermittent convulsions and insomnia caused by hallucinations or nightmares.

“It sounds like a form of psychotherapy. Not very useful for battlefield medicine, but it could be promoted within government departments to serve those Kingdom officials who are mentally and physically exhausted from the immense pressure of their work…”

The advanced version of the Prayer Spell was a powerful divine art called Sacred Prayer… Although the casting process was similar to the ordinary Prayer Spell—guided by burning incense, praying, and chanting secret verses from the sacred texts—it required the additional use of consecrated holy water. It could largely dispel malevolent plagues and spiritual corrosion involving extraordinary powers.

Harvey had long heard of this divine art. It was the Holy See’s specialty for suppressing Necromancers. Once cast, it could easily purify the Living Corpse puppets they refined and controlled, turning them back into true corpses that could no longer be commanded.

“Also not very useful for battlefield medicine, unless the Demonic Lizardmen evolve special units with psychic attacks again.”

The next, however, the Healing Spell, was very practical. It was also a common divine art mastered by low-rank Priests and clerics. It required no material components, relying entirely on channeling and extracting pure energy from the Magic Net, converting it into pure healing energy that affected the recipient’s body, and it had absolutely no side effects.

This was extremely effective for non-fatal combat wounds. Combined with the rapid suturing of medical alchemical beasts and the simultaneous use of hemostatic agents… it was a seamless and perfect match!

Harvey picked up a pen and swiftly circled this entry, emphasizing, “Have them incorporate this divine art into the army’s medical training and procedures. Cultivating Priests and clerics doesn’t require selecting individuals with an innate Affinity for the Magic Net like Spellcasters do. Ordinary military doctors, as long as they study diligently, also have the chance to learn such a healing method that involves extraordinary power.”

Egnor’s heart skipped a beat. He asked, stunned and uncertain, “Your Majesty… you-you actually intend to have military doctors study the Church’s divine healing spells? Won’t this cause ideological unrest and dissent within the army? The Radiant Church has always been our mortal enemy!”

Harvey shrugged nonchalantly and chuckled. “They were mortal enemies in the past. Now they are our defeated foes and captives to do with as we please… Naturally, we can find every possible way to squeeze out their remaining value.”

Egnor clicked his tongue, seemingly trying to grasp the true meaning of the unfamiliar slang the Emperor had just casually uttered. For the moment, he held his tongue and chose not to argue.

Harvey continued to read through the rest of the report.

Blessing Spell? It sounded like another form of placebo-like psychotherapy, similar to the Prayer Spell. But its one redeeming quality was… the blessing ritual could conduct or attach pure divine energy to a tangible object in a specific way. Whether it was the Sun God emblems the Church sold or bestowed upon nobles and commoners, or the holy water commonly used in large-scale mass ceremonies, they were all mass-produced using the Blessing Spell.

It was somewhat effective against common colds and fevers, as well as non-fatal chronic illnesses. The Church used this very method to win the hearts of the people, keeping its followers and believers steadfast in their faith, praying to the gods to drive away their sickness and pain.

Although its actual efficacy was limited, as long as the receiving material that conducted the energy itself possessed magical properties, the effects of exorcism and healing would be multiplied… In other words, an alchemical potion that already had hemostatic properties would have its effects significantly enhanced once blessed. One wouldn’t need to overdose and risk mana corrosion to achieve excellent hemostatic and healing results.

Back when the Rotting Plague broke out in Goldshine City, the Divine Grace Potion the Church subsequently concocted was a classic example of a sanctified magic potion. It exploited the ignorance of the nobles and commoners, widely proclaiming it to be their last hope for curing the magical plague.

Isn’t this a perfect way to mass-produce “over-the-counter” alchemical magic potions?

Moreover, with the dual blessings of magic and divine arts, they complement each other’s shortcomings, turning this blessed magic potion into a truly side-effect-free “patented magic medicine”!

“Select those among this group of Priests and clerics who excel at the Blessing Spell. They might provide some unexpected help to the infirmary’s future potion research.”

As for the others, like the Holy Light Healing Spell, the Art of Rebirth, and the Bloodline Transformation Ritual, they were on one hand obscure and profound high-rank divine arts. The number of high-rank Priests who could master and cast them was small, making widespread application impossible. On the other hand, the required rituals and procedures were overly complex. A high-rank Priest would be completely drained after a single casting, making it impossible to treat a large number of severely wounded soldiers in a short time. The cost-benefit ratio was simply too low.

Chapter 688: Medical Training

Simmons sat stiffly in his chair, staring blankly at the thick stack of “learning materials” placed before him.

This bright and clean classroom was located within the headquarters of the capital’s Battlefield Medical Center. Every day, he saw numerous young military doctors in uniform coming and going. After cautiously inquiring, he learned that this group of young men were from the kingdom’s public academy. After completing their academic classes, they had voluntarily applied and passed an assessment to be allowed to become intern military doctors.

He had truly not expected the threshold for treating the wounded on the battlefield to be so high, requiring them to first master literacy and writing with a dedicated teacher, just like traditional noble children. Back in the south, only nobles and knights were qualified to receive treatment from army chaplains or healers after being wounded on the battlefield.

Army chaplains were always low-rank Priests from the Church, who also served to perform the Requiem Mass for the war dead, their main role being to listen to final prayers and comfort the dying.

Like the healers, they could only perform the simplest of hemostasis and bandaging. Since most had not received professional battlefield medical training, their methods were extremely crude and simple; whether a wounded man lived or died was all down to how tough they were.

When High Priest Donovan was young, he had briefly served as an army chaplain for a feudal lord in Isengard. He had personally witnessed a wounded militia soldier with half a broken arrow in his chest being carried to a healer, who then pulled the arrow out with his bare hands. The unlucky man, who had been clinging to life, immediately started gushing blood and died on the spot.

As for the even worse herbalists, most were from lowly professions like barbers. When a plague broke out in the army, their only solution was to perform bloodletting on the soldiers, leaving them weak before they even went into battle. The herbal remedies they boiled were mostly folk concoctions, sold to the army through swindling and cheating, their efficacy practically negligible.

But this St. Valen’s royal Battlefield Medical Center was completely different from any infirmary Simmons had ever imagined.

The first part of the training they were arranged to receive here was, unbelievably, learning how to properly clean themselves!

The Priests and clerics were first forced to cut their hair short. Several high priests with long beards were compelled to shave off their thick facial hair. Then came trimming their nails… and the handwashing alone was a full three-step process!

The director in charge of their training first had them use boiled and cooled lukewarm water to repeatedly wash their hands up to their elbows. They had to hold a bar of soap and rub it to create a large amount of foam, ensuring that every part, including palms and between the fingers, was covered.

Next came soaking their hands in high-concentration distilled alcohol, completing a strange procedure called “disinfection.”

Finally, they had to raise their hands and wait for them to air dry, and their hands were not allowed to touch anything other than a patient’s wound for the entire time.

Although Simmons and the others were completely bewildered, they still did their best to cooperate. After all, as “prisoners,” they had no right to complain. They simply did as they were told, mimicking the procedures step by step.

“After today’s class, please take this battlefield medical manual back with you and take the time to read it carefully. It details the standard procedures to be followed in battlefield medicine, as well as emergency treatments for the vast majority of injuries.”

As soon as the director finished speaking, some of the impatient Priests and clerics began to flip through the manuals.

A rustling sound immediately filled the classroom.

These Church personnel conscripted from the Holy City were all from commoner backgrounds. The vast majority of them had never held high-rank positions in the Holy See and rarely interacted with nobles. Most of them held sympathy and concern for the common people due to their origins, which was one of the important criteria for their selection.

In His Majesty Harvey’s words, only those who possess the most basic “empathy” and goodwill could uphold “medical ethics” on the cruel and bloody battlefield, giving responsible treatment to every common soldier brought before them, abandoning no one, and not discriminating based on a person’s status or rank.

…

After a full day of training, Simmons and the others immediately returned to their temporary station, staying obediently in the relatively decent collective dormitory and no longer venturing out.

High Priest Donovan, holding a cup of hot water, walked over to Simmons, who was leaning against a simple wooden bed. Pointing to the manual Simmons was reading intently, he asked in a gentle voice, “How much of it can you understand? Perhaps I’m just getting old… I find much of the content incomprehensible. It’s truly a struggle.”

Simmons closed the book, pondered for a moment, and then said cautiously, “To be honest… much of the knowledge in here is even more profound and abstruse than the Holy See’s scriptures. I’ve only just grasped what ‘disinfection’ is; I still don’t have a clue about what ‘infection’ means.”

The young cleric on the top bunk leaned his head down and said with a smile, “I’ve already figured out the injury assessment and grading system! The principle is actually quite simple… When a wounded person is brought to us for treatment, we should first assess their injuries. The treatment for minor and severe casualties is different. The priority is to perform emergency hemostasis, then handle the injuries step by step according to their severity.”

Donovan nodded with a smile. This basic knowledge wasn’t hard to understand. They had done the same in the armies of the noble lords in the past, but the people of St. Valen seemed to follow these rules more formulaically and completely disregarded the patient’s identity. Between a lightly wounded officer and a severely wounded common soldier, the latter must receive treatment first.

This concept of all beings being equal under the gods deeply resonated with him.

But the subsequent content was beyond his comprehension.

After completing the injury assessment and grading, the priority was to control major bleeding while also ensuring the patient remained conscious and breathing smoothly. If they encountered asphyxiation and unconsciousness, they were permitted, in an emergency, to cut open the person’s throat with a knife to help them resume breathing.

This was a brutal act, like that of a butcher. Looking at the anatomical diagram of the human throat printed in the book, most of the Priests and clerics felt a chill run down their spines. Wouldn’t that kill the person directly?

The old high priest knew he could never perform such a cruel act. He would rather exhaust all his energy to cast a Healing Spell than make an incision on the neck of a patient who was already on the brink of death.

Simmons, however, keenly noticed a detail mentioned in the book and muttered to himself, “Their incision site cleverly avoids the vital bleeding points in the neck. How do they do that?”

He immediately recalled that this was a magical kingdom controlled by a large number of high-ranking Spellcasters. There were surely heretical wizards fanatically obsessed with human modification. To have successfully developed such a proven and effective first-aid method, they must have conducted countless blasphemous experiments in human dissection.

He didn’t dare to think about whether live test subjects had been persecuted in the process.

The further he read into this first-aid manual, the more advanced the knowledge became, and the more detailed and meticulous the treatment plans for various injuries were.

There were clear response plans for everything, from penetrating wounds to traumas with massive blood loss like severed limbs.

Even if a person was no longer breathing upon arrival, they were required to attempt a rescue by repeatedly pressing on the chest. The manual even recorded numerous real cases where patients, whose pulses had already stopped, were successfully snatched back from the clutches of death without relying on any supernatural means involving magic or divine arts.

This seemed utterly inconceivable!

As for more common open wounds, burn treatments, and fractures, there were also standard procedures that he could clearly understand and master with repeated practice.

It seemed what he needed to focus his studies on was the somewhat mysterious “infection prevention”!

Chapter 689: Putting Knowledge to Use

“C-Cleric Dorole, is it really all right for me to just come out with you like this, strolling around the streets of the capital?” Simmons tugged at his slightly short cuffs, his expression tight with anxiety as he spoke in a low voice.

Cleric Dorole, his hair and beard white with age, sighed and offered a comforting, gentle reply, “Didn’t you already request permission to go out from your teaching director? Besides… I only asked you out to catch up with a fellow townsman, not for some shady business. There’s no need to be so on edge.”

Back when Simmons and his group had arrived in Starfire City, Dorole, who had once served as a high priest at the cathedral in Jackdaw Town, had heard that the only son of a close friend from his hometown, a young priest named Simmons, was among them. He had immediately pulled some strings at the Royal Infirmary and managed to get in touch with him.

It happened to be a Sunday, their day off, and the Battlefield Medical Center would also suspend its classes for the day. Simmons had cautiously obtained permission to leave from his teaching director, and as soon as he stepped out of the Military Barracks, he saw Dorole waiting for him at the main gate.

Considering their somewhat sensitive identities, Dorole did not plan to invite Simmons to his new home in the outer city of the capital. He simply brought him to a diner just two blocks from the Military Barracks, ordered two cups of hot black tea, and sat down.

“After the St. Valen Kingdom issued its ban on preaching, has your former identity as a cleric caused you much trouble in your life?” Although Simmons hadn’t heard of any widespread persecution of devout believers within St. Valen, he couldn’t help but ask Dorole, who had truly lived here for a long time.

Dorole held his cup and fell silent for a moment before replying with a complicated expression, “Not really. Although His Majesty the Emperor disbanded and expelled all Church powers and parish organizations in the country, he didn’t touch low-ranking priests and clerics like us who came from commoner backgrounds. For someone like me, with a family in Jackdaw Town, I was merely stripped of my cleric status and sent to the Grizzly Keep State-run Farm for labor reform.”

Farm… labor reform?

Simmons felt a pang of pity and said in a low voice, “They actually forced you to do hard manual labor in the fields? That’s just…”

Dorole waved his hand and gave a slight smile. “No, it wasn’t some kind of hard labor intended to work this old bag of bones to death. I was just doing some simple, easy tea-picking work…”

He paused, gazing at the teacup in his hands, and continued in a distant voice, “On the contrary, after I was no longer a cleric, spending my days working alongside those commoners in the tea garden, my heart and spirit felt much more peaceful than before for some reason… So, after the one-year reform period ended, I voluntarily chose to stay there and signed a long-term contract to work until retirement.”

Simmons’s mouth fell open, and he said hoarsely, “So, you’ve… chosen to…”

“No, I know what you’re going to say, young Simmons. I have never betrayed my devout faith in my Lord. Although His Majesty the Emperor forbids public preaching, he does not interfere with the personal beliefs of the people. As long as one’s heart remains firm and unwavering, the existence of churches and monasteries… is not actually important.”

Dorole turned his head to look out the window, just in time to see several half-orc soldiers in military uniforms, out on their day off.

“You see, the half-orcs and the barren landers see those powerful Demonic beasts as avatars of gods. It’s rumored that The Rootless People who migrated to our country from Isengard believe in primitive nature gods. And those Dwarves and Elves you often see in the capital also have their own unique beliefs… But none are allowed to preach publicly. Because of this, the religious atmosphere among the people has changed. No one regards anyone else as a heretic, and there are no more conflicts and wars senselessly stirred up by differences in faith…”

Before he could finish, Simmons’s hands, which were holding his teacup, had turned white from gripping it too tightly. A complex storm of loss, helplessness, and confusion billowed in his chest, leaving him at a loss for words.

He was right… As long as one’s faith was firm enough, a church would stand in every heart. Even a Holy City turned to rubble in reality would stand tall and never fall…

As his thoughts churned, the sound of an overturned table and chairs, and the crash of falling cutlery and plates, suddenly shattered the air.

Simmons and Dorole turned their heads at the same time and saw that at a table diagonally across from them, a child no older than five or six had fallen to the floor. The child’s face was pale, his lips purple, and a strange gurgling sound was coming from his throat.

The child’s mother was frantically digging in his mouth with her fingers, wailing, “Heavens! It’s a piece of milk candy! My child is choking on a piece of milk candy! Can someone help me! I’m begging you, please help me!”

At a signal from the owner, a waiter quickly rushed out of the diner, apparently to fetch a doctor from a nearby clinic.

But Simmons immediately stood up and strode over to the child, crouching down in front of him.

What a coincidence… Just yesterday, in his battlefield first aid course, he had learned a miraculous treatment method called “first aid for airway obstruction.”

And his teaching director had repeatedly emphasized in class that the golden window for rescue in a choking incident was within five minutes. If that time was exceeded, the patient would lose consciousness, go into shock, and eventually, their heart would stop.

Waiting for the waiter to fetch a doctor would definitely be too late!

Simmons gritted his teeth and decided to take the risk. “Please, let me try. I… I’m an… apprentice from the Battlefield Medical Center!”

The child’s father instantly clung to him as if he were his last hope, immediately pulling his wife’s arm to make way.

Simmons quickly helped the child up from the floor, moved behind him, and bent over slightly, his knees bent in a lunge. He then passed his arms under the child’s armpits, wrapping them around him.

Taking a deep breath, he quickly recalled the standard procedure from yesterday’s lesson. He made a fist with his left hand and placed it against the hollow of the child’s abdomen, two finger-widths above the navel. His right hand then covered his left fist to secure his hold. Then, with a series of quick, upward thrusts, he pushed into the child’s abdomen.

He repeated this six times, gradually increasing the force. Suddenly, with a gasp, a large piece of hard candy streaked with blood shot out of the child’s mouth. The next second, a loud wail echoed through the diner.

“He coughed it up! He really coughed it up!” The child’s parents were both shocked and overjoyed. They took their child from Simmons’s arms, holding him tightly and carefully wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth.

Simmons rolled down his sleeves and offered a gentle reminder, “You should still have a doctor take a look. The child’s throat may have been scratched by the piece of hard candy, which would explain the bleeding.”

“Thank you! Doctor! I really don’t know how… You saved my child’s life!” The father rubbed his hands, overcome with emotion, and asked repeatedly, “May I ask which infirmary in the capital you work at? Please allow me to send a letter of thanks to your department. They should commend you for what you’ve done!”

Just then, a man in a white doctor’s coat, led by the waiter, trotted hastily into the diner.

“Hm? The child’s already been saved?”

The doctor looked a little puzzled. He checked the patient’s mouth and throat and briefly asked about the details of the first aid. Then, he turned to Simmons, his expression serious as he asked, “How did you learn first aid for airway obstruction? I’ve never seen you at the Royal Infirmary.”

Chapter 690: Gelled Incendiary Bomb

“Oh? That young Priest helped a child in a restaurant while he was out meeting a friend?”

Harvey pulled his gaze away from the densely packed official documents, looking up at Egnor with some surprise.

“Indeed…” Egnor didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “The chief physician of the North District clinic gave me a detailed report. During the treatment, he didn’t use the divine healing spells he’s usually skilled with, nor did he have the audacity to preach about the Church’s divine grace.”

Harvey let out a soft laugh and took a sip of his hot tea. “It seems they are indeed behaving themselves. I’ll have Astaren keep the secret police on them.”

It had to be said that under the influence of widespread social ideologies, it was indeed easy for people to undergo rapid shifts in their beliefs. These so-called “Moderates” from the old Holy See were not entirely without residual value; there was still room for ideological re-education.

Perhaps in the future, more of the faithful from the commoner class could be semi-forcibly conscripted from the Holy City of Goris under various pretexts. They could then be systematically trained as military medical talent and sent in a steady stream to support the front lines.

…

After finishing his official duties, Harvey took Egnor with him on a detour to the Kingdom’s Alchemy Experimental Center for a surprise inspection of Chris’s group, which was developing new weapons.

In a formulation workshop on the second-level basement of the experimental center, Chris and Benoit were bustling about with a dozen or so researchers. The center of the workshop floor had been built with a sunken structure, a neat, long pit filled with a large amount of viscous liquid. As alchemical beasts continuously shot scorching flames from their maws, the slurry emitted waves of a foul odor as it was repeatedly melted and burned.

Seeing His Majesty the Emperor arrive for an inspection, Benoit hurriedly had an assistant activate all the ventilation systems installed in the ceiling. The ducts let out a loud hum as they quickly sucked out and expelled the unpleasant, pungent odor.

Harvey frowned. “Is this rubber fruit sap? What else have you mixed into it? Why does it smell so foul?”

Chris lifted the protective mask from his face and bowed to Harvey. “Your Majesty, it’s nothing strange, just some saponified oils—the most common ingredient used in making soap.”

This was something Harvey was very familiar with from his entrepreneurial days… However, he wondered if Chris and his team had discovered anything else from the soap after the fats and oils had been hydrolyzed with a strong alkali.

For instance… glycerol!

At this thought, Harvey’s brow twitched. He asked in a low voice, “Just saponified oils? Have all other byproducts and impurities from the experiment been removed?”

Benoit took off his gloves, a bewildered look on his face. “Saponified oil is a very pure experimental product. We haven’t found any extra impurities. Is Your Majesty concerned about the quality of the raw oils we used?”

Harvey shook his head, his expression complicated… It seemed they had yet to discover the terrifying substance that could be extracted from the reaction mixture.

However, he didn’t plan to point it out directly. In this extraordinary world that mixed magic and divine arts, pure chemical knowledge wasn’t a necessary mainline path for technological progress. Focusing on the development and application of magical energy was the top priority.

“It’s nothing. Tell me, what are you trying to concoct here?”

Chris had an assistant draw a small amount of the sap, place it in a glass beaker, and hand it to Harvey with a grin. “Your Majesty, please take a look. This is a brand new alchemical material created by mixing rubber fruit sap with saponified oils.”

“Can it be used in weapon development?” Harvey took the beaker and swirled it gently, noticing the liquid inside was extremely viscous. Even if he turned the beaker upside down, it would easily cling to the glass without spilling.

It was denser than pure rubber fruit extract and would solidify completely in a very short time once heating stopped, turning into a semi-solid state.

Egnor squinted with curiosity and raised a hand, intending to dip a finger in and smell the liquid, but Benoit’s quick reflexes stopped him.

“Don’t touch it! Even with the saponified oils, the stickiness of the rubber fruit hasn’t changed. Be careful, or you’ll get your fingers stuck!”

After Egnor sullenly withdrew his hand, Chris began to patiently explain their experimental results. “Although rubber fruit extract can be melted with heat, it isn’t very flammable on its own. But once it’s mixed with saponified oils… its properties undergo a world-shaking change.”

Chris took the beaker back from Harvey and had an assistant place it on an experimental bench far from the group. He then used a long metal torch to bring a flame near it. The moment the flame touched the substance, the sap in the beaker instantly erupted in a conflagration, releasing a bright, dazzling flare. The tongue of fire shot straight up, over ten feet high.

After it had completely burned out, Harvey noticed that the temperature it generated had been high enough to completely melt the glass beaker that had held the sap.

“Isn’t this the incendiary bomb you were muttering about unintentionally some time ago?” Chris’s expression was one of unconcealed pride. “Others might not have paid attention, but I was listening… I put in a lot of effort and finally managed to formulate it!”

A gelled incendiary bomb… It was indeed an idea that had randomly popped into Harvey’s head before. But he had been stymied by the fact that this world currently lacked a basic combustible material like petroleum and didn’t have the chemical foundation to produce accelerants and thickening agents, so he had quickly pushed the thought to the back of his mind.

He never expected Chris to have overheard him and actually created a viable prototype.

This solid incendiary bomb was clearly more lethal to the Demonic Lizardmen than ordinary flamethrowers using Dragon’s Flame powder. If it could be combined with magical energy for a dispersal detonation, it could instantly create a wide-ranging burning zone.

Once it stuck to the enemy’s hide carapace, it would be difficult to remove. Their carapaces, which already needed frequent soaking to stay hydrated, would quickly harden and become brittle under the high-temperature burning until they lost their viability and hindered the creature’s movement.

Furthermore, the black water weapons were also flammable. If the weapon canisters they carried on their backs were pierced in battle, it would immediately trigger a violent sympathetic detonation. With the addition of incendiary bombs… it would surely be a more effective counter against them.

“Is there a way to increase the combustion efficiency of this mixture, to make it burn for a longer time?”

Chris scratched his head and muttered, “The rubber fruit solution provides the adhesive burning effect… the saponified oils act as a rapid accelerant… If we want to increase the combustion efficiency, we might need to add a third, additional ingredient.”

Harvey nodded and gave a pointed hint, “Perhaps try adding some natural materials that don’t contain magical components… something like saltpeter.”

This was tantamount to a direct hint…

Chris and Benoit exchanged a glance, their expressions equally baffled.

“Saltpeter? Isn’t that a medicinal ingredient used by folk herbalists to make ointments for treating abscesses and boils?”

Chapter 691: Test Detonation

The test detonation site for the gelled incendiary bomb was chosen to be near the Forward Bastion in the river valley.

Behind the Forward Bastion, which had been expanded several times, was a low-lying valley encircled by dense forest. Once the overgrown shrubs and vegetation in the valley were cleared away, it became a naturally safe and secluded weapons testing ground.

As the capital, Starfire City, continued to develop, the land within a fifty-kilometer radius on the northern slope of the Spine of the Continent Mountains was designated by the kingdom’s Construction Department as a development area, reserved for residential use to accommodate population growth over the next decade.

Consequently, large-scale weapons tests and live-fire drills were no longer suitable to be held frequently near the capital. For one, they could easily spark public discussion and lead to information leaks. For another, the noise and pollution from the experiments were a genuine nuisance to the public.

Chris and Benoit had arrived a day early to complete the necessary preparations for the test detonation. As soon as His Majesty the Emperor arrived, the weapons test began.

“Your Majesty, the method you suggested really works!” Chris gushed excitedly. “After adding a small amount of saltpeter powder to the mixture of rubber fruit and saponified oils, the burn time and efficiency improved significantly. After observing the reaction during the experiment, Benoit and I took the liberty of adding some white phosphorus powder…”

As the two had expected, this natural, non-magical ingredient, just like saltpeter, also effectively increased the mixture’s combustion temperature. When ignited in large quantities, it could even melt metal, increasing its power more than severalfold.

Harvey nodded in approval, praising their resourceful and innovative research approach.

“Then let’s proceed with the test detonation. Let’s see what level of lethality can be achieved when it’s made into a shell and fired.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” Chris replied immediately.

As the Emperor, flanked by his personal guard, entered a simple protective bunker, the technician operating the test artillery received the signal. He methodically loaded the shell, quickly raising the barrel to aim at a massive metal target several hundred meters away.

“Target acquired! Three, two, one… Fire!”

The magical energy artillery let out a low hum as the shell shot out like a bolt of lightning. In an instant, a ball of intense flame erupted in the center of the distant valley. Unlike the impact of a standard solid shot or bursting shell, the explosion of the incendiary bomb wasn’t particularly deafening, and its blast radius was quite limited. However, the intense combustion produced a thick black smoke that billowed out, momentarily obscuring the extent of the damage at the target’s location.

But as a light mountain breeze blew through, the smoke dispersed, and the crowd soon witnessed the new weapon’s unique qualities.

Upon moving closer to observe, they could see that the center of the gelled incendiary bomb’s explosion was about ten meters in diameter. A current of scorching air rose high into the sky, spraying large quantities of ignited gelled fuel in all directions, which fell like raindrops. It adhered to the surface of the target and the surrounding earth and rocks. The small globs of gel continued to burn, and any object they touched was instantly set ablaze. Metal melted in an instant, and rocks were transformed by the high temperature into a semi-crystalline substance like fused glass. The soil and vegetation were severely carbonized, appearing as a blackened mess.

Even from dozens of meters away, the crowd could still feel the searing heat washing over them, and their exposed skin felt slightly hot.

What a terrifyingly lethal weapon!

If it were truly dropped into a dense formation of Demonic Lizardmen, it would likely turn those non-human monsters directly into charcoal without needing any other support.

Pierce, who had accompanied Harvey to inspect the weapon’s power, could already envision the enemy’s Floating Island engulfed in raging flames, becoming a colossal tower of fire standing on the ice sea in the dead of night.

The test of a single gelled incendiary bomb left the target area in the center of the valley burning for nearly half an hour… and this was on a bare patch of land composed solely of earth and rock, without any other flammable materials to aid the fire.

“If we open a new weapon production line as soon as possible, how many incendiary bombs can we produce for the battlefield before the counteroffensive in half a month?”

Harvey’s sudden question immediately pulled the crowd from their collective, stunned silence back to reality.

Chris and Benoit exchanged a look, then answered with some uncertainty, “The centralized procurement plan for saltpeter and white phosphorus hasn’t been implemented yet. If we just have to buy them from civilian merchant guilds at an inflated price… we could probably rush-produce about a thousand shells within half a month.”

Harvey nodded and said calmly, “Inform the Department of State. Effective immediately… all saltpeter and white phosphorus mines within the kingdom are to be placed under regulation. All exports are strictly forbidden. They are now considered essential strategic materials that require control.”

Rainer, who was also in attendance by his side, grew tense and quickly nodded. “I’ll see to it at once, Your Majesty.”

…

On the way back from the Forward Bastion, Harvey suddenly recalled an “amusing anecdote” he had previously put out of his mind. He casually asked Astaren, who was beside him, “I heard the Aerial Combat Mages and the Bloodline Warrior Spec Ops squad… captured quite a few of the Demonic Lizardmen’s Winged ones alive during the last night raid?”

Astaren chuckled softly and quickly explained, “Yes, Your Majesty. It would have been more convenient to kill them on the spot, but the Spellcaster officers have always been interested in live specimens of these non-human races. They repeatedly requested that Command preserve some to be transported back to the capital and distributed among their respective research groups for project studies.”

The New Federation and the Academy of Sciences were not short of live specimens. For the past six months, the Defense Force had been continuously sweeping the areas surrounding the capital, wiping out countless vile orc tribes of all sizes and bringing back an incalculable number of captives.

These sub-races, with their low intelligence and primitive savagery, could neither be used as forced labor in the mines and lumberyards nor be reformed into a fresh workforce. Aside from being a waste of food, their only contribution was to the Spellcasters’ magical experiments.

With such an abundant supply of live specimens, the Spellcasters consumed these experimental materials without the slightest hesitation. After the Corpse Caves maintained by the Necromancers in hidden locations outside the city were filled, the black smoke from the “experimental waste” incinerators at the Academy of Sciences billowed nonstop, twenty-four hours a day.

But compared to the Demonic Lizardmen, whose physical structure was so different from that of Humans, the vile orcs were considered merely “low-end consumables.” Until the secrets of the Demonic Lizardmen’s racial talents and evolution were fully deciphered, acquiring more live experimental materials was always a beneficial choice.

The Winged ones, who combined the abilities of black water control and red-light lightning, were considered “prime specimens” among the live materials. After every battle at the front, their capture would trigger a scramble among the participating Spellcaster units, to the point where supply simply could not meet demand.

The thought of the battle mages, led by the Son of Flame, coming to blows and shamelessly fighting over who could claim more Winged ones for their own research groups, made Harvey press his brow and let out a helpless, wry laugh.

“By the way, has Chief Dawson returned to the capital?”

“The comprehensive research project on the Demonic Lizardmen race that he and Lord Salas are leading… how is it progressing?”

“Uh… I hear they still haven’t managed to decipher their language or methods of communication.”

Chapter 692: Soul Extraction

Harvey hurried into the New Federation building with his personal guard, only to find that, for once, Dawson and Salas weren’t holed up in the Laboratory supervising experiments. Instead, they were sitting in the third-floor lounge, leisurely enjoying tea from the snowy mountains of the barren lands, a specialty of the Northern Realm, along with the special tobacco that had become all the rage in the capital, Starfire City.

Seeing the surprise on Harvey’s face, Salas removed the pipe from his mouth, blew a thick cloud of white smoke from his nose, and said with a smile, “Why has Your Majesty graced us with a visit today? We haven’t received any urgent research assignments.”

“I’ve come to see the live Winged ones you brought back…” Harvey shook his head with a touch of resignation and a wry smile. “Without any black water to sustain them, and after such a long flight, I imagine not many of the captives survived the journey to the capital, did they?”

The Winged ones were essentially no different from the Black Lizardmen and Red Lizardmen they had captured before. They also had no need for food or water, and aside from their outer husks gradually drying and hardening over time, as soon as they were captured alive and restrained… the vast majority would immediately choose to detonate the red light energy stored within their bodies, decisively “self-destructing” to perish together with the enemy.

As their outer husks ruptured, the soft flesh and tissue inside would shrivel and rot as quickly as a leaking balloon, eventually turning into a puddle of putrid water reeking of the stench of rust and blood.

Faced with this situation, the experimental team led by Salas and Dawson had tried every method conceivable, but none could reverse this death process. This led to research on the Demonic Lizardmen consuming a vast number of live captives while making excruciatingly slow progress.

“It’s as if they’ve been implanted with some kind of irreversible self-destruct command from birth.” Dawson remarked, puffing on his pipe with a frown. “Once they lose their combat capability, the command triggers almost immediately, destroying their most basic instinct for survival.”

This left them no time to even communicate with the creatures or observe their reactions.

This was the key problem Harvey had been mulling over, desperately seeking an answer to…

“Perhaps… if we could find a way to sever the individual’s link to the main hive consciousness, and test the subject in a completely independent state, we might be able to stop or reverse the self-destruct command?”

Salas shook his head with a wry smile. “Sever the link? How? When Dawson and I first received the live specimen you sent in Araye, we risked a Mind Invasion. And what was the result?”

Even though Dawson had cleverly managed to slice out the target’s memories from its sea of consciousness, he was nearly locked onto by the Floating Island’s main consciousness and dragged into the depths of its collective consciousness to be counter-assimilated.

It was an attempt deemed exceedingly dangerous even for a Legendary Caster, and apart from obtaining a few memory fragments that supported their theories on how the creatures were born, they had gained almost nothing.

Despite this, a rather fantastical idea suddenly flashed through Harvey’s mind.

If an active invasion triggers the main consciousness’s defenses… what if they were to directly extract the live captive’s soul, transfer it into an alchemical construct via soul transformation, and passively sever the natural link between them? Might that have an unexpected, marvelous effect?

It was well known that any alchemical construct personally transformed by Harvey had, to some degree, been guided by his own mental energy during the transformation process. This inevitably left the imprint of Harvey’s Mental Anchor on its Soul Core. This allowed him, as its “Creator,” to perceive and control the soul construct anytime, anywhere. If necessary, he could even directly guide the construct to leave its original vessel and follow him, traveling freely through the Magic Net space, protected and nourished by his mutated magical runes.

After sharing this idea with the two Chiefs, Salas and Dawson fell silent.

After a long moment of thought, Dawson, who was more familiar with Cursing Arts research, was the first to grasp the implications. He said hesitantly, “Your Majesty, are you planning to treat the Demonic Lizardman like an ordinary magical creature and perform your signature soul transfer and body alchemy?”

This idea wasn’t entirely new; some of the Necromancers at the Academy of Sciences, who had just recently rebranded as “soul spellcasters,” had proposed it in a fit of enthusiasm. But to this day, there was still no way to successfully verify one core question.

—Do the Demonic Lizardmen even possess souls, a non-corporeal concept that can be extracted and transferred?

In other words… once separated from their strange bodies, how could such an esoteric and ethereal substance be captured and collected, and successfully transferred into an artificial vessel?

Harvey waved a hand dismissively and said decisively, “The development of all things relies on trial and error. In the school of spell-like arts I founded, a soul is essentially just a special and unique form of energy matter. I do not believe that this ancient, non-human race, which possesses intelligence and the ability to evolve, is merely an empty husk without a soul… that wouldn’t make sense, given their reproductive mechanisms.”

To truly solve this mystery, they naturally had to try it first… Put a live Winged one directly onto the soul extraction device, try extracting, whether it has a soul or not… they were bound to find some kind of special substance in the energy conduits!

…

His Majesty the Emperor was personally presiding over the experiment. Aside from Chief Salas and Chief Dawson, who were required to be present to assist, several high-rank research mages responsible for the primary experimental operations, including Spellshield, were also summoned.

Gazing at the soul extraction device that was immediately carried into the top-floor laboratory, Spellshield Fran Macaulay wore a worried expression.

“Your Majesty, Your Excellencies… are we really going to proceed so crudely, without any prior preparation or theoretical validation…”

Dawson cut him off with a wave of his hand, his expression filled with a fanaticism he hadn’t shown in a long time. “His Majesty has spoken. We don’t need to keep spinning our wheels by sticking to convention… This is how magical experiments in pursuit of the essence of truth should be. Your previous timidity and refusal to take risks only made you seasoned researchers look incompetent!”

“But… but if we really do extract a non-human soul, and His Majesty personally guides its transfer into a new alchemical vessel, what if the Demonic Lizardmen’s main consciousness senses it in the process? His Majesty, he…”

He had witnessed Lord Dawson’s Mind Invasion experiment from start to finish, so he knew exactly how dangerous it had been.

Once Harvey began to guide the soul with his mental energy, the connection established between them would not just be one of thought and consciousness, but in a sense, a deep sharing of perception, just like how he controlled the alchemical beasts through mental imprints… His Majesty the Emperor, a human, would be able to fully experience what it was like to be a soul construct. On the surface, it seemed like a safe procedure over which he had complete control.

But when dealing with an unknown non-human race, the bizarre sensory information, completely different from that of humans or even beasts, could very likely throw Harvey’s own mental world into chaos. As the guidance process went on… there was no guarantee it wouldn’t have some negative side effects.

Harvey, however, had already anticipated this. He smiled and said, “Are you worried I’ll be unintentionally ‘contaminated’ by the non-human race’s main consciousness?”

His thoughts laid bare, Spellshield frowned and nodded gravely.

“It’s fine. Throughout the experiment, I will rely as much as possible on the two Source cores I have fused with, and use the power of laws from the Legacy Fragment to complete this extremely risky attempt!”

Chapter 693: The Spirit of a Non-human

When the alchemical vessel meant to contain the Winged one’s soul was finally delivered, even Harvey couldn’t help but chuckle.

Even though the Emperor himself was taking part in the risky experiment, the preparations made by the Federation and the Academy of Sciences were truly a bit over the top… The alchemical cybernetics intended to serve as the container had been disassembled and modified to the point where its original humanoid shape was almost unrecognizable.

Or rather… it didn’t even look like a beast. It was a completely bare head, stripped of all its external structures—limbs, torso, and anything else that could affect the real world—leaving just enough space to house a Soul Core. It couldn’t help but remind Harvey of the “brain in a vat” from the science fiction novels of his past life.

And the one responsible for delivering and hastily modifying this vessel was none other than Dean Arturo, the head of the Academy of Sciences.

“Rest assured, Your Majesty. Before bringing the alchemical vessel, I tested it as quickly as possible by transferring my own Soul Core into it. I can fully guarantee that the vessel functions normally and that its lack of limbs and torso will not affect the experiment.”

In other words, Arturo had personally “tried on” the vessel, preemptively clearing the soul-energy transfer channel between it and Harvey.

This meticulous approach immediately drew impressed glances from the New Federation members, led by Salas and Dawson. These researchers, former Necromancers, might have always acted in a strange and reclusive manner, but their courage in the pursuit of truth was no less than that of any orthodox Spellcasters. When faced with such a high-risk procedure, they were the type who would genuinely choose to risk their lives and do it themselves.

If His Majesty the Emperor hadn’t possessed the Dominion Core with its power of laws, Dean Arturo would have undoubtedly argued his case and demanded to conduct today’s soul transfer experiment himself.

Harvey naturally understood their thoughts. He nodded with an appreciative expression. “Very good. Since it has been tested and confirmed to be fine, there’s no need to delay any longer. Let’s begin the experiment!”

Soon, a limp, unconscious Winged one was brought into the Laboratory, securely strapped to a metal cart.

Harvey frowned slightly and asked, puzzled, “You didn’t use an Icy Magic Stone to put it to sleep? Won’t a large dose of anesthetic potion corrode the creature’s flesh?”

Spellshield gave a wry smile. “Your Majesty, the Icy Magic Stone can only be used briefly when transferring a live specimen. Prolonged use would also cause its outer husk to dry out faster. While the anesthetic potion does cause some corrosion… considering it’s a disposable specimen anyway, it’s more convenient to handle this way.”

In a sense, in the eyes of these research mages, the captured non-human live specimens were not even considered high-rank intelligent life, let alone people.

Harvey coughed awkwardly a couple of times and nodded. “Begin…”

The low and mid-rank researchers responsible for the preliminary preparations quickly cleared the area. Spellshield and Arturo took over personally, securing the limp Winged one to a metal operating table before connecting the alchemical vessel to it.

Harvey, meanwhile, removed his elaborate outer robe and walked straight to a soft recliner placed to the side. He also pulled down an energy conduit dangling from the ceiling and connected it to the headgear he was about to wear.

For this soul extraction and transfer experiment, he would no longer rely solely on the energy-gathering array for the energy injection. Instead, he planned to use his own immense mental energy to manually open the transfer channel and directly guide the Winged one’s soul into its new body.

As the activation lever for the Planet-level Energy-gathering Array was pulled down sharply, the massive brass instrument standing in the center of the hall began to emit a low hum. A large amount of magical energy, drawn from the Magic Net, began to escape uncontrollably, creating rhythmic ripples that echoed throughout the Laboratory.

“The energy-gathering array has initiated one-way transmission mode. The soul transfer can begin at any time. Your Majesty, please…”

Before Spellshield could finish, Harvey had already expertly placed the metal mask over his head and entered a state of deep meditation in an instant.

He did not choose to break through the planar barrier to enter the Magic Net space. Instead, he plunged his mental energy directly into the virtual world created by his Dominion Core. Gazing at the boundless parallel scroll beneath his feet, he carefully observed the metallic particles within, which constantly changed shape and combined freely. Each of these particles represented an Alchemical construct in the real world, located around his true self, that he could directly control.

With a mere thought, the dense swarm of metallic particles, like a glittering galaxy, would halt in unison. Then, following his will, they would coalesce into millions of different shapes, surrounding Harvey in concentric layers, like an asteroid belt orbiting a star.

Soon… among the hundreds of millions of “planets,” he keenly spotted the single “inharmonious” element.

It was a particle so minuscule it could almost be ignored. From the very beginning, it had been drifting at the edge of the entire planetary belt. It didn’t dazedly follow his will like the other particles, yet it was unable to escape Harvey’s dominion of laws and break free from the billion-particle swarm.

It seems catching this fellow won’t be difficult…

Harvey’s lips curled into a slight smile. He raised his hand, pointed forward, and pulled it directly toward him. He let it hover before his projection, squinting as he observed it carefully.

The tiny metallic particle seemed to be encased in an invisible barrier. Like a moth trapped under an overturned glass, it darted left and right, repeatedly crashing against the barrier in an attempt to break free, but to no avail.

Immediately after, Harvey began pouring the power of laws from his Dominion Core into it… initiating a “forced communication”!

Salas stood by Harvey’s side with a grave expression, one hand resting lightly on his shoulder, seemingly ready to deal with any sudden accidents. His eyes, however, like Dawson’s, remained fixed on the alchemical vessel on the nearby operating table.

Less than half a minute after the transfer experiment began, the Winged one, which had been injected with a high-concentration anesthetic potion, suddenly began to convulse and struggle violently. Although Spellshield reacted instantly, using his Hand of Control to forcibly restrain it, he soon discovered that its struggles were turning into uncontrolled, spastic rigidity. The red breathing sacs behind its ears instantly swelled to their limit, looking as if they would burst at the slightest touch.

“Why is the reaction so strong?” Arturo’s brow furrowed deeply. “Is His Majesty using brute force to extract its soul? Could that cause the soul to shatter?”

“Could it be resisting His Majesty on a spiritual and mental level?” Spellshield clenched his fist slightly and muttered under his breath, “Should we… should we halt the transfer process and wake His Majesty to see what’s happening?”

Before Salas, who was overseeing the situation, could shake his head in refusal… the magical runes etched on the surface of the alchemical vessel—which was just a head fixed to the operating table—suddenly all lit up at once. The bright light quickly intensified from dim to dazzling… a clear sign that its internal Soul Core was overloading!

Then, the soul vessel, which resembled a metal skull, began to tremble rhythmically. It slowly turned its neck, which was fixed to the base, and opened its mouth to the absolute limit… letting out a silent scream toward the ceiling.

Dawson snapped back to his senses and slapped his thigh.

“Damn it! Dean Arturo, we forgot to connect a vocal system to this alchemical head for communication!”

Chapter 694: Interrogation and Deciphering

A set of cybernetic components, fitted with an alchemical vocalizer, was urgently delivered. With practiced ease, Arturo quickly installed it into the carrier vessel that now housed the Winged one’s soul.

The bronze-colored metal skull vibrated rhythmically, and the soul fires in its dark, empty eye sockets flickered erratically, as if enduring unimaginable torment.

Lying to one side, Harvey suddenly opened his eyes and stood up with a fluid motion. “Its soul has been severed from its connection to the main consciousness,” he said with a slight smile. “I’ve used the power of laws from the Dominion Core to forcibly establish a sensory link with it. We can begin communicating with it now.”

With that, he walked over to the metal skull and, raising a hand, tapped a finger lightly on its smooth forehead.

The skull immediately produced an eerie sound of grinding teeth, then once again opened its mouth to its limit, letting out a long, hoarse roar.

“Vile… exiles!”

A low, raspy voice emerged from the alchemical vocalizer, sending a chill through everyone present.

“We will… reclaim the stolen Legacy Core! And you… will pay the price of your entire race’s extinction!”

Although they had already learned this truth from other historical secrets, hearing it from the mouth of a living non-human race… still made most of the people present draw a sharp breath.

They were indeed here for the so-called Legacy Fragments, and in their eyes, the Human race was nothing but exiles and thieves.

Harvey’s expression, however, showed no surprise. He spoke in a calm, steady voice, “Vile? In the battle that broke out in the ice sea not long ago, you were thoroughly defeated by us… by the exiles you speak of.”

He paused, then let out a scornful laugh. “Does that mean you’re even worse than the vile exiles?”

“That’s because of the Legacy Core… You must have used the Legacy Core to gain such immense power.” The Winged one, seemingly provoked by Harvey’s words, became mentally disoriented and began to ramble incoherently. “No! We will not fail… We have made all preparations…”

Harvey keenly detected a valuable clue in its disjointed words. Seizing the opportunity while his opponent was in a state of confusion, he decided to press the interrogation relentlessly, leaving it no time to think or resist.

“Preparations? What preparations have you made? More armies? Or more powerful weapons?”

“Hmph… Ordinary individuals are worthless consumables… Of course, it is the more powerful Evolved ones!” As soon as the words left its mouth, the Winged one seemed to regain its composure, realizing it had slipped up.

The magical runes on the skull’s surface dimmed again, losing their previous incandescence.

It had clearly realized something… and decided to resist the interrogation.

But Harvey had no intention of letting it succeed again. He tapped the metal skull with his finger once more… The Dominion Core continued to exert pressure on its soul, finally causing the Winged one to let out a wail of unbearable pain.

Although he had achieved a sensory link with it through the Dominion Core, the core could only synchronize their senses and thoughts as much as possible, barely acting as a two-way simultaneous interpreter. After all, they were two races with completely different evolutionary histories, and their languages inherently had vast differences. Even the most common of words could have entirely different meanings.

Therefore, the “Evolved ones” mentioned by the Winged one did not definitively refer to their endless variety of strange soldiers.

The torture continued for about a minute before Harvey stopped at the right moment and once again pressed on, “Are the Floating Islands the containers for your main consciousness? Does the evolution of ordinary individuals depend entirely on them? How many more Floating Islands do you have hidden beneath the ice sea?”

The suppression and torment on the soul level seemed to cause the Winged one excruciating pain, and even the skull carrier began to make the chattering sound of teeth.

“You lowly… exiles, don’t even think… of getting any information from me!”

“This is merely… the vanguard of my race’s grand army. When the main consciousness truly descends… you will understand what… apocalypse means!”

Harvey shook his head with a touch of helplessness. The Winged one, having just undergone a soul transfer, was still in a fragile, muddled state of mind. The more it rambled, the more valuable information he could extract. But now it had clearly stabilized. Even with repeated torture and coercion, it was unwilling to reveal anything more.

But what he had gained was enough to satisfy Harvey. At the very least, he could now prove that the non-human race they called the Demonic Lizardmen were intelligent life forms just like Humans, possessing souls, emotions, and the capacity for independent thought, rather than being mere killing machines completely controlled by a collective main consciousness.

Seeing that further interrogation yielded no response, Harvey decisively broke the connection between them and waved a hand at Spellshield. “It’s of no more use. Take it away and dispose of it…”

…

The alchemical container, its Soul Core directly crushed, was quickly carried away. The group followed Harvey back to the rest area on the lower level.

As soon as he sat down and looked around, he noticed that everyone wore exceptionally grim expressions. They had all clearly realized the importance of the intelligence inadvertently obtained during the soul interrogation.

Harvey cleared his throat and, forcing a relaxed tone, said, “First, this brief interrogation has allowed us to confirm an important fact… The two Legacy Fragments, Dominion and New Life, were indeed stolen by our ancestors from the Demonic Lizardmen.”

This was the sole reason the other party had chosen to launch a full-scale invasion and start a war.

“Second, it also proves… that the Legacy Fragments possess immense power, leading these non-humans to mistakenly believe that our current strength is a result of their abilities.”

The problem, however, was that it was not currently a complete whole. It had been completely divided into twelve fragments, lost in utterly unknown places. The descendants of the tribal leaders who were once responsible for their safekeeping had all but died out by the end of the Dragon War. Trying to find any trace of the hidden fragments in the ruins of history was as difficult as finding a needle in a haystack.

Salas also frowned in contemplation. “Setting aside the task of gathering all the fragments, we haven’t even fully uncovered all the uses and properties of the two that Your Majesty currently possesses. The Church has had the New Life fragment for much longer, yet centuries of research have yielded very little.”

Harvey nodded in agreement. “So, for now, we can only focus on the imminent crisis…”

According to the Winged one, ordinary Demonic Lizardmen individuals—that is, the Black Lizard warriors who could only control black water—were considered worthless consumables in their society. Only those known as the “Evolved ones” could be considered high-rank.

Dawson sneered, “Obviously, from its attitude, it considers itself one of the ‘Evolved ones’.”

If the Red Lizardmen, who could only control red-light lightning, were considered the lowest-rank Evolved ones, then the Winged ones, who possessed the talents to control both black water and red light and could also fly… should at least be considered mid-rank Evolved ones.

After all, it had repeatedly claimed that above it… there truly existed a leader-level entity known as the main consciousness.

And it had yet to truly descend and reveal its true form and power to the Human race!

Chapter 695: The Secret of the Legacy

In the vast, ground-floor conference hall of the Imperial Palace in Starfire City.

The expressions of the high officials summoned by the Emperor were somewhat grave, especially those from the Academy of Sciences and the New Federation. Even the two Legendary Chiefs, who had always scrupulously avoided political matters, had made an unprecedented appearance.

The fragmented intelligence gleaned from the soul interrogation of the Winged one prisoner was undoubtedly unveiling the complete truth of ancient history, directly subverting everyone’s understanding.

Humanity had been exiled from their land of origin, the continental heartland, to the south, where they endured nearly a thousand years of struggle and resistance under the enslavement and oppression of the Dragons. After a bitter, centuries-long war of blood and fire, they had finally united with numerous sub-races to win their freedom, only to now face the threat of annihilation from an old enemy.

And the cause of all this misfortune… was their theft of the Legacy Core from the Demonic Lizardmen.

For transcendent beings who had always prided themselves on their righteous stance and seen themselves as guardians, this was the height of irony.

Harvey sat on the throne in the seat of honor. His gaze swept over the expressions of the crowd, and he couldn’t help but rap his knuckles on the armrest, chuckling lightly. “What? Faced with a crisis that threatens the very survival and continuation of our people, are you all still clinging to some trivial sense of morality?”

“Don’t forget, we were exiled here precisely because we lost a competition. But if we hadn’t succeeded in stealing the Legacy Core, our fate might have been far worse than mere exile.”

The fates of both the Dragon race and the Frost Giant race, which had also been annihilated in the long river of history, proved that once a people became the losers in the struggle for survival, they were met with an inescapable and thorough extermination, a miserable end where their entire race was wiped from existence.

“To be weak is to be beaten, and weakness is the original sin. For the sake of survival and proliferation, our unwavering goal must be to seize resources by any means necessary and utterly crush all other competitors!”

These words clearly had a powerful, motivating effect. Many of the officials immediately lifted their heads, their gazes burning as they looked toward the throne where Harvey sat.

Chiefs Salas and Dawson exchanged a glance, both giving Harvey a look of profound approval.

Astaren rose gracefully, the first to voice his agreement with His Majesty the Emperor’s view. “Let us assume that all the information revealed by this Winged one prisoner is true. Does that not confirm one thing? They have lost the Legacy Core that originally belonged to their race?”

Rainer, seemingly stunned for a moment, suddenly had a flash of realization. “Exactly! If this Evolved one prisoner wasn’t lying, then it all makes perfect sense. A race that has completely lost its Legacy Core is bound to decline and wither uncontrollably. That must be why they are willing to disregard all consequences to travel to the south and declare war on us.”

“Then why didn’t they declare war on us sooner?” Pierce keenly spotted a logical flaw in the argument. “They originally had the power to defeat us; otherwise, humanity would not have been driven out. At any point during the War of the Dragons, or during the century when Humans and Demons were locked in conflict, the Humans of the south were even more scattered and divided. Wouldn’t it have been easy for them to crush or even completely exterminate us then?”

Clearly, more than one person had realized this logical inconsistency. When the humans were exiled, the Legacy Core they stole from the Demonic Lizardmen had done little to enhance the strength of their race. On the contrary, unable to unlock its secrets, they had been forced to break it into twelve fragments and have different tribal leaders hide them in secret.

So why hadn’t the Demonic Lizardmen attacked sooner to reclaim their stolen Legacy Core?

What had held them back? And held them back for the long span of nearly a thousand years?

A low hum of discussion filled the hall as everyone began to debate the matter.

Just then, Harvey stood up and slowly descended from his throne, walking over to the long conference table where the high officials were seated.

“Everyone, since I personally performed the soul transfer and mental interrogation on this Winged one prisoner…” He paused, his sharp gaze sweeping across the room. “During my sensory resonance with it, I captured some fragmented memories and streams of consciousness. I have pieced them together and, from them, formed a very bold hypothesis.”

The officials all placed a hand on their chests in a gesture of respect and said in unison, “Please enlighten us, Your Majesty.”

Harvey nodded, raising a single finger as he spoke with a grave tone. “First, let us assume that not every race is qualified to independently possess and control a Legacy Core.”

This assumption was easy enough to verify. Countless historical records noted that numerous races had perished due to their own weakness. The Dragons’ demise was forced upon them by a coalition of other races, while the Frost Giants had simply withered and gone extinct over time due to their own limited reproductive capabilities.

The Coral Sea-folk and Abyssal Sea-folk had once launched a war of annihilation against the merfolk. After migrating to the south with the humans, the Burrowing Dwarves had launched a purge against the native Nightscale Clan that lived deep beneath the southern lands, ultimately leading to their extinction.

“From this, we can surmise that after we stole their Legacy Core, the Demonic Lizardmen did indeed experience an unstoppable decline in strength. This decline was so severe that they struggled merely to contend with other rival races in the continental heartland. Unable to even protect themselves, they naturally couldn’t spare the effort to deal with us for a very long time.”

Salas nodded repeatedly in agreement. “Your Majesty’s speculation is very likely the truth. It also proves just how important a Legacy Core is to a race. It is a pity that after our ancestors stole the core, they were unable to unlock its mysteries and allow us to master the formidable power needed for self-preservation.”

But Harvey did not end the topic there. Instead, he immediately followed up with a point that sent a tremor through everyone’s minds.

“Did we truly fail to unlock the secrets of this stolen Legacy Core? I ask you all to think deeper. Where did the magic that humans were the first to master come from? Where did the divine arts created by the Church come from? And why are the Demonic Lizardmen naturally able to suppress and resist our magic and divine arts?”

The magic learned and mastered by humans and their vassal sub-races… was it unlocked from the stolen Legacy Core?

As the only person present who had truly come into contact with the Legacy Core, and had even directly fused with and devoured one of its fragments, Harvey’s words carried a natural credibility.

Past experimental research into magical theory had shown that the ancient wizards studied and created magic primarily by imitating other magical creatures—from mimicking how a massive Dragon lifted its heavy body to soar through the sky, to observing how a tiny Ice-eye beetle spat frost crystals to capture its prey.

The prerequisite for all this learning, imitation, and adventurous exploration was that humanity first had to discover the Magic Net and be able to draw a constant, inexhaustible supply of mana from it for their own use.

Harvey spread his hands, his voice soft as he revealed what he believed to be the ultimate truth of his people’s legacy.

“Therefore… I believe that the most important thing this stolen Legacy Core brought us… was the Magic Net!”

Chapter 696: The Essence of the Magic Net

The Magic Net… was created by the Legacy Core?

The moment Harvey spoke, the entire conference hall erupted in an uproar.

As Legendary Casters, Salas and Dawson were the first to grasp the subtext of Harvey’s words… why is it that only Humans, and the vassal races of humanity, possess the talent to discover the Magic Net and control mana?

Meanwhile, other magical creatures on the continent, like Dragons and Wyrms, are independent of the Magic Net, relying on the innate mana within their own flesh and blood to cast their spells.

There’s a fundamental difference between what is innate and what is developed later.

That meant that Humanity must have experienced some sort of catalyst… for the extraordinary profession of wizards to suddenly emerge in the ancient era, and for religious powers who also wielded the extraordinary to gradually arise over the last millennium of development.

“We are different from magical creatures; we aren’t born with mana…” Spellshield Fran Macaulay frowned, lost in thought. Suddenly, a notion flashed through his mind, and he blurted out uncontrollably, “We… we stole their Legacy Core! Only then did we discover the existence of the Magic Net from this legacy and learn how to manipulate mana!”

The two Legendary Chiefs immediately turned their gazes on him… The meaning in their eyes was self-evident, and a cold sweat instantly broke out on the Spellshield’s back.

That’s right… His Majesty… He is the real-world agent of the Magic Net Casters Forum. Long before the news of the non-human race’s southern invasion, he had already used the Forum’s founding to acquire a vast amount of esoteric knowledge from the mysterious existence behind the Magic Net and the Forum, allowing him to rapidly increase his strength. His unique school of soul spellcasting probably originated from there as well!

Thinking this, the Spellshield felt he had faintly grasped the crux of the matter!

The two mysterious beings who founded the Forum… Administrator Turing and Observer Neumann. Could it be that they aren’t some bizarre creatures from other dimensions, nor are they high-level intelligent life forms who have ascended to the rank of demigod—

But the Legacy Core itself!

They, They chose His Majesty Harvey! They deemed him a successor capable of independently mastering the Legacy Core!

And His Majesty Harvey, back when he was obscure and unknown, used the Magic Net Forum to unite the many high-level casters of the south, linking and integrating the organizational forces behind each of them, all to prepare for the disaster of extinction that Humanity faces today.

Otherwise, there was no way to explain it… why an obscure Undead spellcaster would choose to establish his mage territory not in the south, far from the core of human settlement, but instead take an unconventional path and set it up in the perilous barren lands.

The Spellshield dared not dwell on the further implications… The historical truth contained within the Legacy Core, and the secrets His Majesty the Emperor was unwilling to reveal, were inherently dangerous.

The less one knew, the safer it was for the many high-level figures involved. As long as they wholeheartedly contributed their strength to defending Humanity against the non-human race’s invasion, always adhered to the guiding principle of Humanity’s survival and development, and did not deviate from this core objective… then the self-interests of everyone were firmly bound to His Majesty the Emperor.

Looking up again at Harvey standing at the foot of the steps, the Spellshield realized his past impression of him had undergone a world-shaking change, shifting from affinity and admiration… to a much deeper sense of awe and trust.

Harvey cleared his throat, and the whispers in the hall immediately ceased.

“Everyone, we have now teased a clear thread from the tangled truths of history. The next thing we must realize… is that our situation with the Demonic Lizardmen is completely different from our past century of entangled conflict with the Demons over resources and interests.”

He paused, his tone turning grave. “This is a harsh matter concerning the very survival of our two races… It’s either they die or we die. This protracted war will only end when one of our races is completely annihilated. Therefore, we must hold an absolutely firm conviction: Humanity will defeat them. We will exterminate them. There is no other choice!”

A shiver ran through everyone present. They rose to their feet, placed a hand over their chests, and declared in unison, “We follow Your Majesty’s will! Humanity will defeat the Demonic Lizardmen!”

…

After this meeting that had turned the worldview of the kingdom’s upper echelon upside down, Harvey had the two Chiefs and the Spellshield, among others, stay behind for a private audience in a reception room on the second floor of the Imperial Palace.

“Through the Magic Net Forum, I’ve extended an invitation to the two Mr. Men in the Mirror, asking them to set out in the coming days with a group of trusted Alchemists and apprentices from the Esoteric Society to reinforce our front lines in the Northern Realm.”

Hearing this, Dawson raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “Those two? After Your Majesty entrusted them with the esoteric knowledge of soul forging, Salas and I haven’t seen them show their faces on the Forum for a long time. I wonder how far the Esoteric Society’s soul fusion advancement ceremony has progressed. Logically, with Your Majesty’s help… it shouldn’t fail.”

The Alchemical Exploration Society, led by the Quinn brothers, had long been dedicated to the absolutely taboo ‘Man-made God’ project. Its core concept was a bizarre experiment to use mortal power and magical principles to directly grant a soul to something that originally possessed no characteristics of life.

Soul forging was an experiment in simulated creation, a practice of bestowing life upon inanimate objects. It had always been highly controversial in the spellcasting world. Not only did the Church consider it an act of absolute heresy, but even the Federation and the seven wizard kingdoms did not look upon it favorably.

When the Alchemists realized that the path of pure soul forging was a dead end, the two Supreme Chiefs stumbled upon the Spellcaster Forum, a clandestine organization on the Magic Net. From the ‘agent’ Harvey, they obtained a brand-new path forward—if a soul could not be created from nothing, then there had to be a way to fuse multiple, completely independent souls together. In a sense, this also created a brand-new soul, one that could achieve a direct leap in its level of life through combination and superposition!

And what Harvey gave them were the core techniques of the soul spellcasting school: soul extraction and transfer, the suturing of heterogeneous souls, and the reverse circulation of life essence.

Relying on this bizarre, unheard-of knowledge, the Quinn brothers, as Chiefs of the Esoteric Society, immediately set to work developing a method of advancement that completely abandoned the traditional path of a Spellcaster.

They no longer intended to rely on the arduous old road of reforging magical runes and constructing mana circles to advance to the Legendary-rank.

Instead, they planned to directly imitate the bizarre path Harvey had taught them, to take a route that bypassed the mana barrier and led straight to Aberrant Advancement!

Chapter 697: Mirrored Twins

“Ahem, to be honest… even Gallagher, the most aggressive and reckless of the three of us, wouldn’t dare to attempt the advancement method His Majesty taught.”

Dawson rubbed his red nose and glanced at Harvey with some embarrassment.

This wasn’t some polite excuse born of caution or fear of death. For any high-level caster from the former Federation, unless faced with a truly desperate situation, none would trust another so completely as to abandon their familiar school of casting for a path of advancement that was utterly foreign.

In any case, soul spellcasting was a brand-new school of casting, still in its infancy. Even its founder, Harvey himself, had not openly advanced to the Legendary-rank and publicly declared the legitimacy and mechanics of this path.

It didn’t even have a replicable system of spells…

“So… only fanatical researchers like the Quinn brothers would dare take such a huge risk, to tread a path of truth filled with so many unknown dangers. I have to say, I’m impressed,” Salas said, tucking his hands into his sleeves, his tone a mix of teasing and admiration.

That’s why others can seize the chance for advancement from the successor chosen by the “Legacy Core,” while the rest of us can only continue to linger at the high-rank… If the Son of Flame, Fell Hoden, were present, he probably would have blurted out that merciless taunt.

But the Spellshield could only mutter this to himself, not daring to speak his mind and risk offending the two Chiefs and angering the other high-level mages.

The Marshal of the Mage Corps, Andre Weiss, who happened to be present, asked quizzically, “Your Majesty… are you saying… that Mr. Man in the Mirror and his brother have successfully completed the soul fusion advancement ceremony? That they’ve truly ascended to a Legendary-rank unique to the two of them?”

Harvey chuckled twice and said meaningfully, “I wouldn’t say it’s completely finished… But from now on, whether on the Forum or in reality, it probably won’t be appropriate to call them the two ‘Mr. Men in the Mirror’ anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Dawson was stunned for a moment, then it dawned on him. “The Quinn brothers now… after completing the soul fusion advancement… have they… merged into one, an inseparable whole?”

It sounded so bizarre that many of the high-level Mages who were familiar with the Man in the Mirror brothers found it difficult to accept and adjust to.

Two formerly independent high-level casters, the twin Chiefs of the Alchemical Exploration Society… were now literally one person, no longer separate, having become a single Legendary Chief in the truest sense of the word.

Salas was silent for a moment, not intending to press the matter further. He smiled faintly and said, “Well, when we meet him formally soon, we’ll have a difficult time… should we call them, no… should we call him Aufre Quinn, or Ed Quinn?”

The Chief’s jest immediately dissipated much of the strange atmosphere in the room.

The Spellshield let out a quiet sigh of relief and quickly changed the subject. “Your Majesty invited the Esoteric Society to help us in battle? Those Alchemists don’t have the strength or experience of battle mages. Sending them to the battlefield… probably won’t be very effective.”

Although both were fundamentally Spellcasters, Alchemists were predominantly research-type mages. The combat power they could rely on mostly came from alchemical weapons and combat-type bodies they developed and built themselves. Only a few mavericks… would choose to use Alchemy to modify their own bodies, combining their originally frail flesh with powerful alchemical devices to become beings akin to alchemical beasts.

The Son of Flame, Fell Hoden, had once enlisted the help of Alchemists to carry out extensive demonic an magical modifications on his own body, not only enhancing his physical strength but also subjecting his eyes and parts of his skeleton to alien enchantments.

In this respect, Harvey’s unique soul grafting and cybernetics shared a similar principle with the Esoteric Society’s methods.

“Helping us fight the Demonic Lizardmen doesn’t mean we have to throw them all onto the battlefield…” Harvey shook his head in resignation and explained slowly, “The Academy of Sciences and the New Federation are in urgent need of alchemical talent. The Alchemy Laboratory led by Chris and Benoit simply can’t handle everything… I need more alchemical talent that can quickly learn new knowledge and adapt to the Kingdom’s magical Science and technology, a steady stream of them to help us research and upgrade more powerful weapons!”

The New Federation was currently focused on researching the non-human race physiology of the Demonic Lizardmen, while the Academy of Sciences was engrossed in the deeper development of soul technology. The only way to quickly enhance the army’s combat strength was to rely on the weapons research and development department of the Alchemy Laboratory. This was the main reason why Harvey had never given up on the Esoteric Society and was determined to bring them into the fold.

Based on the principle of an equivalent exchange… since he had helped Mr. Man in the Mirror achieve his long-cherished wish, it was only natural that they should give something in return.

Just then, Astaren hurried into the reception room, bowed to Harvey, and reported, “Your Majesty, the Alchemical Exploration Society you invited to the Northern Realm has arrived at the transit point in Fengyuan City. The two… uh, Mr. Man in the Mirror is currently requesting to speak with you directly through the communication device.”

“Oh? They arrived so quickly?” Harvey raised an eyebrow, motioning for his personal guard to bring over the Magic Brain device on the conference table. He lifted the communication microphone, and everyone could clearly hear a familiar voice from the distant other end.

“Mr. Kel’Thuzad! Uh… no! Your Majesty the Emperor! I arrived in Fengyuan City last night… I’ve only just managed to contact you!”

Harvey hummed in acknowledgment and said warmly, “There was no need to be in such a hurry, Mr. Man in the Mirror… How are you… uh, feeling now?”

After handing over the soul fusion technology to the Esoteric Society, Harvey had chosen not to interfere any further and had made no inquiries about the outcome of the ceremony. Out of respect and courtesy for Mr. Man in the Mirror, he had maintained a policy of not meddling in their organization’s internal affairs unless they actively sought his help.

Therefore, after re-establishing contact and extending the invitation… Harvey himself was not very clear about Mr. Man in the Mirror’s current condition.

From his knowledge of his past life, he had always believed that merging two independent souls would inevitably lead to conflicts on conscious, biological, and social levels. No matter how advanced the magical Science involved, it was ethically problematic.

It was entirely possible that while the two Mr. Men in the Mirror had successfully advanced, the container—the physical body—had developed two completely different senses of self, with each consciousness vying for control and two incompatible memory systems causing chaos, ultimately resulting in a “mental patchwork monster.”

“Hehe… I know what you’re worried about. Don’t you have more confidence in your own theories? Don’t worry! I anticipated and prepared for the situations you were concerned about. Most of the troubles encountered during the ritual experiment have been resolved.”

The voice of Mr. Man in the Mirror coming from the communicator was exceptionally lighthearted. Everyone listening could keenly sense that… he referred to himself as “I” the entire time, making no distinction between the original separate identities of the twin brothers. It was as if he had truly transformed from two people into one single, complete individual.

“No memory overlap or cognitive dissonance? No functional competition between brain regions? No imbalance in the neural control of your body?” Harvey fired off all his questions at once, stunning everyone present.

What sort of incredible, unheard-of, and terrifying theories did His Majesty discuss with Mr. Man in the Mirror on a daily basis? These terms sounded completely new, and the esoteric knowledge they contained made even the Legendary Chiefs frown in confusion.

But Mr. Man in the Mirror chuckled and said frankly, “It was all thanks to you telling me about these potential anomalies in advance. Although the advancement process was extremely perilous, I managed to pull through…”

He paused, seeming to get lost in a brief memory, then said faintly, “Do you remember the long philosophical discussion we had before the soul fusion advancement ceremony began?”

“The story you told me… called the【Ship of Theseus】, and that philosophical assertion, 【I think, therefore I am】… they allowed me to hold fast to my true self during the advancement, finally breaking through the barriers of my life’s form and achieving a complete New Life!”

Chapter 698: The Northern Realm’s Esoteric Society

Two days later, Harvey personally led a group of high-ranking officials from the capital to the inner city’s military Airship landing field to welcome the Alchemical Exploration Society delegation.

However, when the Esoteric Society’s Chief, Mr. “Man in the Mirror,” stepped off the Airship, everyone present was so stunned they froze on the spot.

Harvey cleared his throat, stepped forward to take the other’s outstretched hands, and asked in a gentle but concerned tone, “Mr. Chief, didn’t you tell me in our communication that everything was fine? Why…”

The Man in the Mirror before him was wrapped tightly in bandages from head to toe, and a faint, yellowish, oily substance was even seeping through their surface. Although he was still勉强 wearing an ornate and complex alchemist’s robe over them, no matter how one looked at it, his condition could hardly be described as “perfectly fine.”

The Man in the Mirror’s eyes, visible through the bandages, were bright and full of spirit. He shrugged and said with a laugh, “This is also why I rushed to the Northern Realm the moment I received your invitation… Heh, even if you hadn’t asked, I would have come on my own initiative in a while.”

He paused, his tone shifting to one of resignation. “The Soul Fusion Ceremony itself went off without a hitch. My current appearance is simply a result of my body being unable to contain a new, more powerful soul. Flesh disintegration is quite a normal side effect… If I weren’t so attached to this original body, I could have easily followed your suggestion and had the Esoteric Society forge a new alchemical cybernetic one for me.”

So that’s what happened… Harvey nodded in understanding. “Flesh disintegration is almost irreversible. It won’t be easy for you to preserve your original body, Mr. Man in the Mirror. But now that you’re in Starfire City, we have plenty of time to attempt some remedies… Heh, we have a wealth of talent here now. If we pool our wisdom and efforts, we’ll surely come up with a viable plan.”

Dawson also stepped forward, teasing his “two” old friends of yesteryear, “So now we can only address each other by our forum handles… After all, the Ofre and Ed of the past are now one.”

The Man in the Mirror scoffed dismissively, “Chief Dawson can call me whatever he likes… Hmph, we are me, and I am me. This bit of cognitive dissonance can no longer disturb my mind.”

Salas chuckled dryly and said, “In that case, we needn’t get hung up on names. I was present for your communication with His Majesty… I’m very interested in the story of the ‘Ship of Theseus’ you mentioned. His Majesty is busy with official duties at the moment, so why don’t you return with me and Dawson to the New Federation for a rest? We could invite a few old friends we haven’t seen in ages for a reunion.”

But the Man in the Mirror waved his hand and turned to Harvey. “Before coming to the Northern Realm, Your Majesty mentioned wanting to establish a new branch of the Esoteric Society in Starfire City. I already have some preliminary ideas about that… but I’d like to see my disciple, Chris, first.”

Harvey nodded, gave the two Chiefs an apologetic look, and said warmly, “Chris is currently in charge of the Kingdom’s Alchemy Experimental Center and is incredibly busy every day… He should still be in the Laboratory right now. Please, come with me to see him!”

After settling the Esoteric Society’s alchemists and apprentices in the guest hotel, Harvey personally led the Man in the Mirror and a few high-rank alchemists, surrounded by his personal guard, to the Kingdom’s Alchemy Experimental Center.

Since they hadn’t announced their visit, the unprepared researchers and assistants were startled. They all put down their work and bowed to the Emperor. Many of them peeked up, sizing up the tall, strange, bandaged figure standing beside Harvey.

Harvey waved over a familiar-looking director and asked casually, “Where is your Minister?”

“Your Majesty, Minister Chris went to the top-floor research and development center early this morning to personally handle the final debugging of the Starfire Warriors’ standard-issue weapons… If all goes well, he should be done this afternoon.”

It wasn’t a particularly critical project. The moment they spotted the Emperor on his inspection tour, a quick-witted researcher had already hurried up to inform him.

“Then let’s wait in the lounge for a moment…”

The Man in the Mirror, who had been silent all this time, looked around and found the scene before him unexpectedly surprising. Whether it was the large crowd of people kneeling in the experimental center’s hall or the official who had just reported to Harvey, he could tell from their bearing and speech that they were all orthodox alchemists who had mastered alchemical theory and had practical experience.

Yet there wasn’t a single elder among them. They were all young adults, around thirty years of age, with sparse, short beards… He even saw many youths with boyish faces in the crowd, and women who moved nimbly and had intelligent eyes, even in their cumbersome lab coats.

“Chris… trained so many alchemy apprentices for you?”

Harvey raised an eyebrow, not understanding the Man in the Mirror’s point. “Apprentices? No… Those who can enter the Kingdom’s experimental center are all top talents selected from other research stations. According to the Alchemical Exploration Society’s assessment standards, they should technically be considered formal alchemists.”

Formal… alchemists?

Even through the thick bandages, Harvey could see the doubt and astonishment in Mr. Man in the Mirror’s eyes.

Indeed, according to the strict standards of the Alchemical Exploration Society, a youth deemed talented would typically undergo nearly ten years of training as an apprentice. Only after passing layer upon layer of assessments and screenings could they qualify to become a formal alchemist.

These talents, chosen from among thousands, were then often assigned to alchemical workshops throughout the south to study diligently under more experienced, high-rank alchemists. The best among them… like Chris, might be fortunate enough to be chosen by a Chief as a disciple and receive dedicated, personal instruction.

Such lucky individuals were few and far between, essentially a ticket to instant success.

To achieve the high-rank status that would make their names renowned, they ultimately needed to create an entirely new alchemical formula of their own. Many formal alchemists went their entire lives without achieving this goal, growing old and feeble with gray hair, still stuck in their workshops, unsuccessful and unfulfilled.

So, for the Man in the Mirror to believe that Starfire City alone, under Harvey’s rule, could produce nearly a hundred talents with the skill of formal alchemists, was truly somewhat inconceivable.

When Chris was first tricked into coming here, he was just a junior alchemist who liked to take unconventional approaches and didn’t play by the rules.

Harvey immediately understood the Chief’s confusion and quickly explained with a smile, “You need not be so surprised… Starfire City is, after all, a bit different from the other kingdoms in the south. With the boon of magical technology, we entered the stage of magical energy industrialization long ago. The tasks that once required a great deal of repetitive manual labor have all been replaced by alchemical beasts implanted with Soul Cores. With the liberation of our productive forces… these young people, who have stronger learning capabilities and a deeper understanding of new things, have naturally become the main force in research and development. In a sense, it’s not an overstatement to call them formal alchemists.”

After all, throughout St. Valen and the United Kingdom of the Northern Realm, the application of magical energy technology had reached a level of popularization among the masses. It was completely different from the purely manual workshops of the Esoteric Society in the past. Technological progress no longer relied on mastery of experience and formulas; in certain key R&D positions, youth actually provided an advantage in terms of energy.

Taking the thick stack of weapon development blueprints from Harvey, the Man in the mirror silently and carefully flipped through them… Magical-Powered Cannons, various types of Magical Energy Guns, floating Airships, magical-powered trains, and a star-like an array of countless civilian Alchemical constructs.

The alchemical technology contained within these novel constructs, none of which he had ever heard of, was self-evident.

The Man in the Mirror took a slow, sharp breath and finally couldn’t help but sigh, “Your Majesty… forgive my bluntness, but with the alchemical technology your people possess and the scale of the laboratories in the capital, I’m afraid you have no use for us… for old-timers who have fallen behind the times. The Alchemical Exploration Society cannot compare in any respect.”

Looking at the somewhat dejected Man in the Mirror, Harvey shook his head and smiled. “That’s not so. While we are fortunate enough to be at the forefront of technology, our talent reserves are still insufficient… If the Esoteric Society is willing to join hands with us, we will have a better chance of dealing with the future invasion of the non-human races from the north. Therefore, I urgently need your help and the help of the Esoteric Society.”

Chapter 699: A Real Eye-Opener

“Teacher, please look!” Chris pointed at the enormous metal armor in the center of the laboratory, exceptionally excited. He gushed as if presenting a treasure, “This is a project personally initiated by His Majesty and led to completion by the Kingdom’s Alchemy Experimental Center… the Magicalized Armor experiment!”

The Man in the Mirror nodded, signaling for the few high-level Alchemists following him to stay put. He then stepped forward and circled the metal creation, whose craftsmanship was nothing short of perfect, observing it carefully.

The armor stood nearly three meters tall. The outer armor plates shone with the silver-gray luster unique to refined steel. At the center of the chest, where a heart would be, countless magical runes, too small to be identified by the naked eye, were inscribed on the surface. They were currently pulsing with a strange, breath-like frequency, slowly shifting through peculiar colors as they flickered.

This armor… is alive?

The Man in the Mirror subconsciously raised his hand and rapped his knuckles lightly against the armor’s surface. “I think I understand. This Magicalized Armor has been implanted with His Majesty’s unique Soul Core, so in reality… it’s actually a live alchemical beast, isn’t it?”

Discussing high-level techniques with my teacher is always such a pleasure…

Chris was overjoyed. He quickly nodded and explained, “Your assessment is entirely correct, teacher… but it’s not an ordinary Beast Soul implanted in the Magicalized Armor, but a Demonic Beast’s Spirit Essence! It is by harnessing their powerful soul energy and their innate magic that we can grant ordinary mortal soldiers the dual extraordinary abilities of a Spellcaster and a Bloodline Warrior!”

The scene instantly erupted. The Alchemists who had been told to stay put could no longer contain themselves. They all rushed forward and began to circle the Magicalized Armor.

“This… how is this possible? How did you do it?”

“The soul extraction and transfer technique is indeed His Majesty Harvey’s unique creation… But… but how can a mortal so easily control the soul of these demonic beasts just by using an armor implanted with a Beast Soul? And even wield their innate abilities?”

“No! Don’t forget, His Majesty also has the even more astonishing Soul-stitching technique! They must have deeply stitched the mortal’s soul with the Demonic Beast’s Spirit Essence, just like Chief Excellency’s soul fusion advancement ceremony, making the two one and the same!”

“Nonsense… How can a mortal’s soul compare to that of a high-level caster? Such a weak soul, once combined with a demonic beast, would inevitably suffer irreversible erosion. All you’d get would be a mindless, humanoid beast.”

The Man in the Mirror coughed heavily twice, scolding them with a stern face, “Do not speak so recklessly!”

It was one thing to actively inquire about another’s secret knowledge… but to then start chattering away, pointing out potential flaws in their sophisticated techniques—with any other alchemical organization in the south, such an incredibly rude act would have likely provoked immediate resentment.

Chris, however, chuckled as if nothing was wrong. “The difficulties you’ve raised are actually the same problems we faced initially… But with His Majesty, the founder of our school of thought, all these issues were resolved through repeated experimentation and verification.”

“Oh?” The Man in the Mirror’s curiosity was piqued as well. He couldn’t help but ask, “His Majesty has successfully solved the problem of interspecies soul fusion? Is this a secret that can be so freely disclosed?”

Chris nodded and gestured to a guard who had been standing at attention by the laboratory wall ever since their arrival.

“Come… let me introduce everyone. This is one of the Starfire Warriors personally trained by His Majesty, Captain Sai Ke.”

Sai Ke had never been in a situation like this. Surrounded by a group of old men, he looked a bit flustered. “His Majesty ordered me to come here and demonstrate for you masters how a mortal operates the Magicalized Armor…”

With that, he walked to the Magicalized Armor and, using a small wooden ladder, prepared to climb inside.

“Wait!” An elderly, gray-haired high-level Alchemist stepped out from the crowd and grabbed his arm, his expression grave. “Let me see… Hiss, have you undergone any additional bloodline or physical modifications?”

He expertly held Sai Ke, looking him over, even personally prodding his arms and chest. Sai Ke was left at a loss, and could only look to Chris for help.

“They are indeed not Bloodline Warriors… During their regular training, they only receive periodic injections and ingest small amounts of magical potions to enhance their vitality and nourish their souls. It doesn’t reach the level of modifying their bloodline or physique.”

After saying this, Chris gave a slight nod. Sai Ke immediately and nimbly lifted the outer shell of the Demon Armor and slipped inside.

Through the energy conduits suspended from the ceiling, the energy-gathering array was quickly activated, continuously pouring magical energy into the Demon Armor… It took Sai Ke less than ten seconds to skillfully enter the fusion state.

Next came some simple steps and movements. After striking a few standard combat poses for show, Sai Ke, at the Alchemists’ request, very cooperatively performed actions that would allow them to verify their conjectures.

“It… it truly is a strange creation that fuses a mortal’s soul with a Demonic Beast’s Spirit Essence!”

“This soldier… he… he can still maintain his human consciousness and hasn’t been eroded by the demonic beast’s soul… How bizarre!”

“Could it be that the Beast Soul implanted in this Demon Armor was already defective to begin with? Otherwise, how could he suppress it and successfully take control of its abilities?”

The Man in the Mirror observed silently for a while before suddenly speaking up, “Mr. Sai Ke, please demonstrate for us how you control the Beast Soul to release its innate magic.”

The large, seemingly clumsy Magicalized Armor nodded. It raised a hand and grabbed a metal rack standing nearby. The magical runes on its chest and arm lit up instantly, and in a flash, a bone-chilling wave of mana fluctuation emanated from it.

Everyone stared intently… and saw that the rack it gripped was rapidly being covered in crystalline frost. The freezing effect even spread quickly from the rack to the floor, enveloping a small area of the laboratory in frost.

Then, the Starfire Warrior slowly stepped back a few paces, raised a hand, and an ice blade flew out silently. It struck the metal rack with a thump, causing it to instantly shatter like brittle glass, clattering to the floor in pieces.

Without a doubt… this was an effect that could only be achieved through a magical attack.

And the soldier who had just climbed into the Demon Armor—after a hands-on verification by this group of high-level Alchemists—was confirmed to be completely… a physically fit but ordinary mortal, with no mana fluctuations in his body whatsoever!

The Alchemists present on the scene fell into a sudden silence. The Man in the Mirror also looked at his former student, Chris, with a complicated expression.

One of his arms and both his legs had even been transplanted and modified into alchemical cybernetics using the Soul-stitching technique.

Back then, he had half-coaxed, half-tricked him into coming to Harvey’s pioneer territories in the Northern Realm… It was only to facilitate an exchange of benefits that he had thought to push this troublemaker student forward.

Yet, under Harvey’s command, he had grown at a terrifyingly fast pace in less than three years…

While the Alchemists were crowding around Sai Ke with a barrage of questions, Chris quietly pulled his mentor aside and said in a low, earnest voice, “Teacher, please accept His Majesty’s proposal as soon as possible and join us completely!”

“Compared to the City of Magic, Araye, which is rife with factional strife and in a state of growing decline, Starfire City is the true city of miracles for our Alchemist faction!”

Chapter 700: Suppressive Bombardment

On the boundless ice and snowfields of the ice sea, a squadron of rapidly cruising floating Airships suddenly decelerated, dispersing to hover several hundred meters above the ground.

“Attention, eleven o’clock, northwest. Approximately three kilometers from our position… Let me see, that’s Northwest Area Four!”

An Aerial Combat Mage, seated inside a floating Airship, held a plotting ruler and gestured over an unfurled map. After repeated measurements and confirmations, he finally locked onto the coordinates of the reconnaissance target.

“Notify the artillery units. They can request a blanket bombardment!”

His colleague, piloting the Airship, pulled the lever for hover mode and leaned out of the Gondola, looking down at the vast, white snowfield in the distance. On the originally flat ice, numerous crooked ridges had appeared—a sight that was clearly not the result of natural pressure from shifting ice sheets.

For the increasingly experienced Aerial Combat Mages, there was no need to land and inspect the situation. They could tell at a glance that these were signs of Demonic Lizardmen digging ice trench shelters beneath the surface.

The alchemical communicator crackled to life. “Artillery position has received the coordinates! Bombardment will commence in three minutes! Reconnaissance squad, please evacuate the area immediately. Be wary of enemy aerial attacks!”

The nearby Airships received the message almost simultaneously. They immediately powered up their energy systems, regrouped, and sped back toward the base.

Looking toward Upwelling Number 13 from the sky, the Mages could already see the dark silhouette of Number Two Floating Island with their naked eyes. Despite being nearly thirty kilometers away, the colossal non-human battle fortress still exuded an invisible sense of shock and pressure.

A few minutes into their return flight, a series of familiar, piercing whistles tore through the sky above. The next second, thunderous explosions roared. In the area they had just been observing, dozens, even hundreds, of snow pillars erupted from the snowfield. The surrounding ice surface shattered in an instant, sending massive, solid chunks of ice flying in all directions.

Before anyone could turn to observe the impact zone, the second wave of bombardment arrived in quick succession.

The precisely calculated artillery bombardment was more than sufficient to ensure the shells landed accurately on the designated targets. Each grid square marked on the map represented an enemy-occupied zone that needed to be cleared. As soon as the reconnaissance squad locked onto a target, the slowly advancing heavy fire support units in the rear would unhesitatingly unleash a massive amount of long-range firepower.

Under the dense artillery coverage, the once pristine white snowfield was soon littered with dark, messy objects blown out from beneath the ice—the mangled remains of the Demonic Lizardmen who had been digging trenches below, as well as the numerous black water worms they had transported there for concealment.

Long before the “Extermination Plan” officially began, the Engineer Corps of Ice Sea Base had ventured deep into the battlefield ruins to survey the remnants of ice trenches left behind by the retreating Demonic Lizardmen. To tunnel through ice harder than basalt, these non-humans had to rely on a combination of red-light lightning blasts and repeated melting with black water. This meant they couldn’t dig very deep, at most less than two meters below the surface.

A single solid Magical Explosive Bullet was enough to create a crater about a meter and a half deep. The concurrent shockwave could penetrate three to four meters below the ice. For the enemies crowded into the trenches, being within ten meters of the detonation point meant the shockwave would be absolutely fatal. If their luck was even worse and a shell happened to smash directly through the ice roof above them, it would be impossible to leave even a complete corpse behind.

This spectacular display of long-range firepower left the Mages, who were used to small-unit ground combat, feeling deeply shaken, even though they had witnessed it many times. The pleasure derived from ruthlessly crushing the enemy was almost irrepressible.

This was far more effective than when they had fought in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, where they had to risk close-quarters ambushes from Demons just to launch coordinated spell-like attacks.

“Hahaha! Did these non-human vermin really think we couldn’t find them just because they’re hiding under the ice?”

“After the bombardment, I bet those ice tunnels they dug are completely stuffed with a pulp of flesh and blood!”

“Just you watch… Before long, the ones lucky enough to survive will scramble out in a panic, fleeing for their lives back to their Floating Island keep.”

“Should we… turn back and give chase?”

“Watch your words! Don’t forget the orders from His Majesty and the Commander. No matter what happens, we must strictly follow our instructions. Let’s head back乖乖… We’re running low on fuel anyway.”

And things unfolded just as they had predicted. After several rounds of shelling, hundreds, even thousands, of Demonic Lizardmen scrambled and pushed their way out of a completely collapsed ice trench. Without a thought for rescuing the black water worms buried inside, they fled directly toward Number Two Floating Island.

A new wave of bombardment arrived with perfect timing. As if possessing the ability to see the future, the artillery position several kilometers away had cleverly switched from solid shells to bursting shells, which had a much greater area-of-effect lethality.

The icefield instantly became a scene of gory chaos. Even the Winged ones who had just emerged from the ice trenches were engulfed by the shrapnel from exploding shells before they could even flap their wings to escape into the sky, shredded into a mess of red and black fragments in a heartbeat.

The artillery unit was clearly estimating the enemy’s escape speed and distance, skillfully conducting a walking barrage. At this rate, it would take no more than three volleys to annihilate these routed Demonic Lizardmen. As for the few remnants that slipped through the net, it wasn’t worth expending more ammunition to hunt them all down.

Seeing that the outcome was certain, the Airship squad stopped looking back at the battle and increased their speed, heading straight for home.

…

Indeed, the command post’s decision to delay the counter-offensive against Number Two Floating Island and instead implement the “Extermination Plan” was proving to be remarkably effective. Although the Demonic Lizardmen forces, which were constantly encroaching on the surrounding area from Upwelling Number 13, had adopted the tactic of secretly advancing through trenches dug under the ice, they could no longer catch the human army off guard as they had during the first night raid.

With the close coordination between the Northern Army’s reconnaissance and heavy fire support units, the territory controlled by the Demonic Lizardmen was gradually being compressed. Every grid square representing an enemy zone was being transformed into a secure, human-controlled area through frequent aerial harassment and artillery bombardments.

In the frontline command post at Ice Sea Base, on the giant sand table depicting the entire theater of war, the deep red squares representing dangerous areas had dwindled. Now, the only ones left were Number Two Floating Island at Upwelling Number 13, and the area around Upwelling Number 17, which was shrouded in steam from geothermal activity.

Chapter 701: Number Four Floating Island

Ice Sea Base, front-line command post.

Vaughn was hunched over the sand table, holding the latest battle reports he had just collected. Bit by bit, he replaced the deep red squares on the map, which represented enemy-occupied territory, with yellow-green ones.

The areas cleared by the “Extermination Plan” could not necessarily be occupied by human forces immediately. Although the enemies entrenched there had been all but wiped out, aerial units still needed to be dispatched regularly for observation to guard against a potential comeback.

On the vast, endless ice sea and snowy plains, there were not many points that could be called valuable strategic targets. All they could do was gradually compress the Demonic Lizardmen’s operating area, firmly confining them near the upwellings where the Floating Island fortresses were located. This prevented them from continuously pouring their effective strength from the deep sea onto the surface battlefield and expanding outward.

In His Majesty’s words, compressing the enemy’s operational area was to create greater strategic depth for their own side. As long as they held firm control of air superiority, combined with the gradual advance of heavy firepower suppression, they could ultimately achieve complete control over the battlefield. The enemy would no longer have the opportunity to monitor them, forced to turtle up near the Main Keep of each Floating Island, waiting to be pulled out one by one like “nails.”

This was remarkably similar to casting a net from a boat on the Icefield River and then gradually pulling it in.

Vaughn straightened up and rubbed his chin. Gazing at the only two remaining deep red areas on the sand table, he felt it was about time to “pull in the net.”

…

Fell Hoden, the Son of Flame, hurried into the command post. Before Vaughn could even greet him, he said with a grim face, “Upwelling Number 17, that foggy sea area we’ve never been able to scout, is showing signs of Demonic Lizardman activity again!”

“Oh?” Vaughn looked up, surprised. “Has Number Four Floating Island, which has been hidden there all this time, finally revealed itself?”

The Fire Mage shook his head. After a moment of contemplation, he said slowly, “It’s strange. Logically, the hot fog around the upwelling only covers an area with a diameter of about one to one-and-a-half kilometers. If Number Four Floating Island were truly hidden inside, the number of troops they have stored would definitely be more than what we’ve observed so far…”

The reconnaissance airships tasked with monitoring the area flew around the upwelling in shifts, almost every half hour. No matter how much of a commotion they made, they could only draw the attention of about a thousand enemies out of the foggy sea. After those Black Lizardmen and Winged ones rushed out of the fog, they did not seem eager to counterattack the airships. Instead, they would just patrol the perimeter for a while before returning to the fog, leaving the Aerial Combat Mages who took turns going there completely baffled.

“Could they be gathering their strength, or… waiting for reinforcements?” Staff officers Dickinson and Ross also gathered around, discussing the situation near Upwelling Number 17 with Vaughn, the Commander-in-Chief.

“Judging by the current troop capacity of Number Two Floating Island, even if Number Four Floating Island is similar in scale to the number three we sank at Great Bear Lake, it should hold at least ten thousand enemies. And that’s not even including the Conch Beasts that ascend with the island during submerged travel, or those Black Water Worms with ranged attack capabilities.”

The Son of Flame frowned and could not help but retort: “If it’s really a small floating island like number three, why don’t they just approach the Great Bear Lake area again through the Abyss waterways? That place is much closer to human settlements than the ice sea. They might even be able to launch a surprise attack on Great Bear Lake Base and cut off our retreat from the rear.”

“Great Bear Lake is too far…” Vaughn clicked his tongue and picked up a ruler, gesturing with it on the map. “Landing there would indeed be closer to human settlements and easier for their ground advance… but by the same token, being closer to our main base means human reinforcements and firepower would arrive faster. Comparing the two, an enemy relying on a single floating island as its main war fortress is clearly at a disadvantage.”

The main consciousness of the Demonic Lizardmen had obviously learned enough from the previous battles to inform its thinking, and it naturally understood how to weigh the pros and cons to make a better choice.

Their main objective at this stage was clearly to gain complete control of the entire ice sea region, securing more upwellings for landing operations, which would allow them to continuously send reinforcements from the deep sea.

In a way, the Ice Sea Base was also an “iron nail” driven firmly into the Icefields, one that they were desperate to pull out.

“We can discuss this back and forth… but the root cause is still our limited intelligence on Upwelling Number 17.” The Son of Flame reached out and pressed a hand on the sand table map, proposing in a low voice, “Lord Commander, give the order to send a team of high-level casters to scout the depths of the foggy sea! I request to lead the team myself… I guarantee we won’t return empty-handed!”

Vaughn’s expression softened slightly, but before he could speak, a communications officer responsible for battlefield connections shot to his feet. Gripping the receiver tightly, he said in a trembling voice, “Commander… Sirs, the reconnaissance squad that set out for Upwelling Number 17 an hour ago has sent an urgent message. A large number of Demonic Lizardman Conch Beasts… have appeared in the foggy sea!”

Conch Beasts?

“Who’s leading the reconnaissance team?” Vaughn strode over to the communication device, snatching the receiver. The voice of Stormwalker Matthews Willy immediately came through. He was also the Son of Flame Fell Hoden’s adjutant, assisting his old colleague in managing the several hundred Aerial Combat Mages on the entire front line.

“Lord Commander, my reconnaissance airship squad arrived near Upwelling Number 17 ten minutes ago and immediately observed a large number of Conch Beasts emerging from the foggy sea. These behemoths seem to be under a unified command, forming orderly ranks and advancing slowly toward the Ice Sea Base!”

Vaughn’s voice was cold. “What are their numbers? How many accompanying Demonic Lizardman troops are there?”

“By visual estimate alone, there are nearly a hundred Conch Beasts. Dammit… Number Two Floating Island only had about a dozen. How could so many be hidden here?”

“Their ground troop numbers are unknown. There aren’t many Winged ones in the air, but they’ve already spotted us and are now heading toward us at full speed.”

Vaughn nodded, his tone steady. “Retreat and return to base immediately. Do not get entangled with them.”

The moment he put down the receiver, his orders rang out through the command post—

“All hands, enemy forces spotted near Upwelling Number 17! They are advancing on the Ice Sea Base. Sound the defense alarm! All combat departments, to your stations immediately. Prepare for battle!”

The distance between Upwelling Number 17 and the Ice Sea Base was about the same as the distance to Number Two Floating Island. If the small number of Winged ones did not break away from the main force to launch a first wave of attacks, then based on the speed of the Conch Beasts sliding across the ice, the earliest they could reach the base’s early warning line would be nightfall.

Everyone present realized that tonight would likely be another grim and desperate battle.

But this time, compared to before, they were much better prepared to face the enemy.

Chapter 702: The Arriving Evolved One

Deep beneath the thick ice of the Ice Sea’s snowfields, at the bottom of a sea abyss nearly ten thousand meters deep.

The seawater, caught in the invisible grip of gravitational tides, churned into turbulent currents, making the utterly dark region even murkier.

A bottomless chasm split the dark, deep seabed. Cliffs as hard as obsidian enclosed it, forming an irregular, oval-shaped volcanic crater.

Deeper into the chasm, closer to the crater’s bottom, more and more giant black cocoons appeared on the circular cliffs. They were crowded together irregularly, clinging and overlapping in dense masses, their numbers too vast to count.

With each regular eruption from the crater below, a large amount of viscous black fluid was released, transforming into swarms of tadpole-like living creatures that swam eagerly around the giant cocoons.

Some of the black cocoons had damaged shells. The openings exposed to the seawater seemed to attract the tadpoles’ attention. One would aim for an opening and dive straight in… The cocoon would then rapidly repair the damage, returning to its smooth, complete form.

But inside, it was bulging, clearly gestating something new.

After several consecutive eruptions from the crater, a more violent tremor followed… Many of the cocoons clinging to the cliffs cracked open again. Strange beings with long, twisted limbs, like humanoid spiders, slowly crawled out. Their flat, featureless faces sniffed the surroundings for a moment before they swiftly swam toward the bottom, as if they had identified a direction.

At the bottom of the chasm, a dark-red vent resembling giant insect mouthparts also sensed the arrival of the main force above. It pulsed, opening and closing in time, and spewed out more extremely thick black fluid. The fluid condensed into numerous spherical globules in the cold seawater, hovering silently, waiting to be captured.

The humanoid spiders arrived one after another, swimming around and extending their deformed, long arms to desperately grab the black spheres. The moment their bodies touched a sphere, the black liquid immediately spread to cover them completely, enveloping their bizarre forms and leaving only two red sacs by their ears, which constantly pulsed and contracted.

This was the strange method by which the Demonic Lizardmen transformed from newborn larvae into adults.

As the first ordinary Demonic Lizardmen to acquire the black spheres, and the Red Lizardmen who had fought for the special crystals among the many spheres, gradually completed their transformation, they began to swim up and out of the chasm in succession…

Near the now-quiet crater, only a single newborn larva remained.

Outwardly, it looked no different from the other larvae. But throughout the entire transformation process of embracing the black water, it had remained hovering silently, completely disdainful of the surrounding spheres and crystals, seemingly waiting for something.

Finally, when the crater showed signs of pulsing open again, it moved in an instant… Its long limbs paddled swiftly, and it dove headfirst into the vent that resembled insect mouthparts.

The volcanic chasm seemed to immediately sense it had swallowed a “foreign object” and instantly stopped erupting, clamping shut tightly.

An unknown amount of time passed before the huge vent was suddenly torn open from the inside… A phantom-like figure, glowing with a crystalline, dark-red light, shot out. It paused briefly at the bottom of the crater before unhesitatingly floating upward.

Its entire body was encased in a crystal-like substance, with only a single, swollen, pupilless eye revealed on its chest and abdomen. In the dim, lightless sea abyss, it resembled a brilliant, deep-red humanoid gemstone.

…

On the Ice Sea’s snowfields, a bone-chilling wind blew. The pale sunlight was already tottering on the horizon.

Vaughn stood atop a high watchtower, his expression grave and silent as he watched the black tide surge closer across the distant plain.

These enemies, attacking from Upwelling Number 17, had uncharacteristically abandoned their usual tactic of digging subterranean ice trenches for a slow, methodical advance. The nearly one hundred Conch Beasts that had suddenly appeared seemed to have given them extra courage and confidence—they intended to use the beasts’ massive bodies and hard coral shells as mobile shields against artillery bombardment, charging straight for the Ice Sea Base.

Although the ice sea’s terrain was flat and stretched to the horizon, the maximum observation range with a spyglass from such a height was barely five kilometers. These enemies, having just appeared on the horizon, were not yet within the long-range firing perimeter of the artillery units. Aside from continuously dispatching airships for close-range reconnaissance… all Vaughn could do was watch and wait for them to slowly enter the Northern Army’s pre-established positions.

“Lord Commander, our close-range observation indicates their ground forces aren’t numerous… fewer even than they committed during the night raid a while back. It’s strange… There are only about a thousand Winged ones, too. Could this just be a probing attack?”

Vaughn picked up the communicator and replied in a low voice: “There’s no need to get too close to their main force. The Conch Beasts also have black water vents on their backs, which pose a threat to the airships… Find a way to circle around to their rear and see if they have hidden reinforcements.”

Although he had repeatedly confirmed the number of enemy forces deployed, Vaughn still didn’t believe this was a simple probing attack… For one simple reason: the enemy had suddenly committed so many Conch Beasts—veritable “heavy weapons.” Not even Number Two Floating Island, considered the largest Main Keep, possessed such a number. It was inconceivable that they would travel such a long distance just to serve as target practice for his artillery.

Under the fading daylight, the massive figures of the Conch Beasts could be seen clearly through the spyglass, advancing in a neat square formation. Their bell-tower-sized bodies clung to the ice surface, and with each push, their several pairs of thick, long legs dug into the ice, propelling them dozens of meters forward. A large number of Winged ones clung tightly to them with folded wings, not frequently taking to the skies to launch surprise attacks on the human army as they had in the past.

More ordinary Demonic Lizardmen warriors followed close behind, dragging plump Spitter Worms with crystal chains formed from solidified black water, using the Conch Beasts as mobile cover as they advanced slowly.

The Son of Flame suddenly flew to the top of the watchtower, landing beside Commander Vaughn.

“They plan to use these giant turtle shells as cover to close the distance to our positions as much as possible. It looks like they’re determined to force a hand-to-hand fight…”

Vaughn nodded and mused for a moment, “But they don’t seem to realize that even with half our heavy artillery sent to Number Two Floating Island, the weapons and ammunition we’ve since received at the Ice Sea Base are more than enough to destroy all of these turtle shells.”

The Son of Flame chuckled, champing at the bit. “These non-human monsters aren’t fools. After getting a taste of the advantage of fighting at night during the last raid, they’re trying the same trick again… attacking us after dark. They’re well aware that the accuracy of human artillery and firearms drops significantly at night.”

Of course, this entire assessment was based on one premise… that the enemy didn’t know the human army had been urgently supplied with a brand-new weapon called the gelled incendiary bomb.

Chapter 703: Mana Devourer

The alarms at Ice Sea Base had been sounding intermittently, from the early morning warning whistles, to the afternoon alerts for war preparations, and now, as night approached, the alarm signaling an enemy attack.

The atmosphere throughout the frontline base was like a bowstring being drawn taut. Everyone methodically followed emergency battlefield procedures, moving to their assigned defensive positions.

The Engineer Corps, who had been expanding the trenches and ice forts on the perimeter, were the first non-combat department to be evacuated. These engineers, wearing leather helmets and thick cotton coats, were guided by soldiers rushing back and forth, retreating in orderly lines through the vertical trenches leading back to the base.

Given the enemy’s use of Spitter Worms with long-range strike capabilities, many new semi-subterranean shelters had been urgently added to Ice Sea Base. They were primarily meant to house the large number of engineers and the Battlefield Medical Center established there.

Carson, an old Mage from Goldshine City, was facing such a situation for the first time. He stood somewhat helplessly at the entrance of a shelter, staring blankly as squad after squad of engineers poured into the fortress.

The Son of Flame sped through the sky, glancing down for just a moment before spotting his old colleague from the former Federation standing foolishly at the entrance.

“Old Carson! What are you doing just standing there? Hurry up and get inside with the main group!”

Old Carson came from a small, obscure wizard family in Da’ers. Nominally, they were vassals of the Hoden family, the Son of Flame’s backing. Riding on the coattails of the Hoden family’s illustrious fame and status, he had managed to secure a cushy sinecure at the Goldshine City branch of the old Federation.

However, his own talent and strength were truly lacking. After more than thirty years of struggle, he was still stuck at the level of a Novice Spellcaster, unable to advance. If it weren’t for his younger sister marrying into the Hoden family and becoming the Son of Flame’s distant aunt, this famously proud high-rank spellcaster probably wouldn’t have given him a second glance.

His ability to come from Goldshine City to the capital and successfully join the Northern Army’s Logistics Department was entirely due to his fire spells. Though weak, his control was quite skillful. The Son of Flame had only needed to mention him casually to a logistics officer in the military department to easily secure him a relatively relaxed position as a “Magic Welder,” leading a few dozen men in the Engineer Corps.

Startled by the sudden shout, Old Carson looked up and was stunned to see the Fire Mage descending from the sky. He immediately shrank back, not daring to offend this so-called “nephew” of his, and stammered, “I… I’m doing a headcount. A construction team from my engineering platoon went to the outer front line this morning. They should have returned when the second alarm sounded, but I haven’t seen them at all…”

The Son of Flame frowned imperceptibly and said in a low voice, “Don’t worry about that now. You go inside first. We have about fifteen minutes before the battle officially starts. I’ll go to the outer perimeter and check on them for you. Maybe they were delayed by some engineering accident.”

Commander-in-Chief Vaughn had ordered the Airship combat department to stay put and not be the first to engage the enemy. On one hand, he didn’t want them to risk being shot down by the Spitter Worms; on the other, they needed to wait for the artillery positions to fire the first shots of the defensive counterattack.

High-rank spellcasters like the Son of Flame, who could fly on their own, naturally didn’t need to be on standby at the landing field at all times. Most of them patrolled the base on their own initiative, assisting other combat departments with emergencies.

When he reached the outer frontline, following Old Carson’s directions, he found exactly what he was looking for: a squad of soldiers whose uniforms were a different color from the regular Army’s. They were hunkered down in a section of the trench, struggling to help the soldiers of that defensive line move something heavy.

It was a Beam Weapon that had been set up there in advance. Forged entirely from refined steel, it was exceptionally heavy. During calibration and preheating, it had overloaded and overheated, causing its chassis to loosen and melt the solid ice supporting it. The weapon had tilted and toppled into the trench.

“Everyone, stand back! I’ll right it for you!”

The Fire Mage landed directly in front of the soldiers and waved the group of young, sweat-drenched lads aside. He took a deep breath, and his mana surged throughout his body. The muscles in his arms bulged, straining the seams of his general’s uniform to their limit. With his strength alone, he pushed the machine, which weighed over three hundred kilograms, back into its designated position.

Such an incredible feat would have been unremarkable for one of the mighty and valiant Bloodline Warriors, but coming from a high-rank spellcaster, it was rather shocking. The young soldiers stared, dumbfounded.

“What are you standing there for? Get back to your battle stations! And you lot,” he said to the engineers, “get back to the shelters in the rear immediately. Your director is waiting anxiously for you!”

The engineers snapped out of it, picked up their tools, and sprinted back.

Once the area was cleared, the entire frontline trench returned to strict silence. Every soldier remained at their post, completely unfazed by the minor incident.

Having received no new orders, the Son of Flame couldn’t be bothered to return to the rear command post. He found an ice fort nearby, ducked inside, and squeezed in with several low-ranking officers.

“My lord! When the battle starts, will you be fighting with us on the front line?”

The sudden arrival of a high-rank spellcaster had the young officers, all of commoner birth, buzzing with excitement. They crowded around him, chattering eagerly.

The Son of Flame pursed his lips. Before he could tell them to maintain their silence, the alchemical communicator beside him suddenly crackled to life.

“Calling the front line! Ksshh—ksshh—Do you read me? Dammit! Why is the Magic Net signal suddenly… so weak!”

“Ksshh—ksshh—Calling…”

The Fire Mage frowned and picked up the communicator, but after several attempts to reply, he got no response. The front line, less than half a kilometer away, seemed to have suddenly lost its connection to the rear command post.

Before he could figure out why, he heard several clear whooshes from above. Then, someone landed directly in the trench of the outer defense line. It was Stormwalker Matthews Willy.

“What’s going on?”

“There’s something abnormal in the enemy’s ranks. The Mages’ Eyes of Reconnaissance seem to have been suddenly blocked, and they’ve lost all visuals… The Commander wants all high-rank spellcasters to move to the foremost battle zone and find out what they’re up to!”

The Son of Flame nodded, climbed out of the ice fort, and rose into the sky again to peer into the distance.

The pale sun had completely sunk below the horizon, and the entire Icefields was instantly shrouded in the gray gloom of night. He channeled the surging mana within him into his mutated left eye, activating the Pupil of True Sight—an ability far more powerful than any detection spell.

In the sky above the distant enemy, a bizarre, rolling thunder suddenly echoed. It seemed to be the deafening sonic boom produced by some entity flying at an unfathomable speed, its body pushing past its physical limits.

The Son of Flame immediately sensed the anomaly, maneuvering the Pupil of True Sight to track and lock onto the target causing the phenomenon.

It was a twisted, human-like figure hovering above a giant Conch Beast. Its entire body seemed to be encased in a deep red, crystalline substance, revealing only a single, swollen, pupil-less eye on its chest and abdomen.

It was merely hovering there, yet it instantly captured the Fire Mage’s full attention. Though they were nearly five kilometers apart, the moment their gazes met, the giant, twisted eye embedded in its torso locked tightly onto the Son of Flame, who was scrying from afar.

The exchange lasted no more than a lightning-fast instant, yet the Fire Mage felt as though he had been targeted by some terrifying natural predator. A chill shot up his spine from the base of his back, and a cold sweat broke out.

What the hell is that thing!

Alarm bells screamed in his mind, but his gaze and body were frozen against his will. It was a situation he had never encountered since his advancement to high-rank, as if everything from his thoughts to his mental energy was being suppressed from a distance.

In the next second, a barely perceptible red light flashed from the monster’s eye. The Son of Flame’s mind was suddenly struck as if by a sharp chisel, and an excruciating pain originating from the depths of his soul spread throughout his body.

The mana within him surged out of control, and in an instant, it was completely drained!

In the moment before he lost consciousness and fell from the sky, the last thing he saw in his blurring vision was the figure of the Stormwalker rushing toward him.

Chapter 704: A Bitter Fight

Just as the artillery unit fired the first shot in the counterattack against the non-human races, the Son of Flame, who had been mysteriously and grievously wounded, was carried back to the rear command post by Stormwalker Matthews Willy.

He hadn’t been sent directly to the Battlefield Medical Center in the underground bunker because his injury was simply too bizarre. He had merely gazed at the enemy position from a distance of nearly five kilometers, and in an instant, his vast and abundant mana was drained completely. Then, as if struck by a mental-type spell, he lost all control of his body and couldn’t even maintain flight… He had nearly plummeted from a height of almost one hundred meters to be smashed to a pulp.

“What happened? How was Colonel Hoden injured?”

After the counterattack officially began, the command post was already bustling with noise and activity. When a powerful high-level military Spellcaster was helped inside, everyone was stunned… Losing a high-rank member at the very start of the battle was hardly a good omen.

Stormwalker frowned, answering with uncertainty, “I don’t know either. He just used the Pupil of True Sight to take a look at the enemy’s area, and he was immediately ambushed… When I saved him, I could sense that the mana in his body had been instantly drained, leaving him in a state of exhaustion.”

If it had been some unique, undiscovered hidden weapon of the Demonic Lizardmen, there were no wounds or marks on the Fire Mage’s body. As a high-rank battle mage himself, Matthews had never seen such a thing and could only make a preliminary judgment that Hoden had suffered an unknown mental attack.

Although Vaughn was also a high-rank Bloodline Warrior who had awakened his innate talents, he was completely clueless when it came to matters concerning Spellcasters. To make things worse, the Legendary Chief, Lord Dawson, had just returned to the capital, Starfire City, leaving only a dozen or so high-rank battle mages from the Evil Moon Mountain Range at the front lines… Not one of them was a research-focused Spellcaster with more theoretical experience, so they were completely unable to diagnose his condition.

Fortunately, after chugging two vials of soul-nourishing Moonlight Brew, the Son of Flame finally let out a pained groan and, his body twitching, slowly regained consciousness. “Ugh… My head, my brain was nearly scrambled into mush!”

After a few moments of labored breathing, he suddenly came to his senses… He raised a trembling arm, grabbed Matthews, and said urgently, “Notify all the high-rank members holding the line on the front… don’t, don’t try to probe the enemy formation with spells! There’s… there’s a terrifying monster among them, a bizarre existence that can lock onto observers from afar and launch an instantaneous remote attack!”

Vaughn nodded with a grave expression. Without any delay, he stepped aside and picked up the communicator, intending to issue the order.

Suddenly, the doors to the command post were thrown open from the outside, and two disheveled junior officers rushed in with panicked expressions.

“Commander, in the enemy army… a monster, a completely red monster, suddenly appeared. That thing can fly like the Winged ones and is charging our position without any warning!”

“Then what are you waiting for? Activate the anti-air beam weapons and intercept it!”

“The early warning line’s beam weapons… they’re useless against it. This thing… it flies astonishingly fast. We… we’ve tried everything, but we can’t lock on to the target!”

Vaughn was shocked and furious. Before he could speak… Stormwalker understood their perilous situation. He nodded to Vaughn and turned to leave the command post without hesitation.

When mortal soldiers and magical energy weapons couldn’t handle a powerful individual enemy that appeared out of nowhere, it was time for high-rank battle mages like them to shoulder their responsibility.

…

The crystal-red Demonic Lizardman monstrosity roared as it charged straight for Ice Sea Base. In an instant, it crossed three heavily guarded ground defense lines, effortlessly dodging all the beam weapons fired at it with a speed that even high-level casters would find hard to match.

Similarly, it seemed to be aware of the power of the weapons wielded by mortal soldiers, and it didn’t dare to slow down or hover to attack. But simply circling above the base was enough to exert considerable pressure and deterrence on the Human soldiers below.

The artillery positions in the rear area continued to thunder, relentlessly pouring thousands of shells onto the approaching enemy. More than ten Conch Beasts in the very front rank couldn’t withstand the ferocious bombardment and collapsed onto the ice, shattered to pieces.

The non-human monstrosity clearly identified the Northern Army’s main source of military might. It paused for just a moment… then swiftly changed direction and sped toward the artillery’s location.

And the base’s forward command post happened to be on its direct path.

As a target as vital as the army’s brain and heart, the Northern Army naturally wouldn’t neglect its defense. Although the beam weapons had lost their effectiveness, dozens of floating Airships quickly ascended, hovering directly in its path to intercept it.

But the non-human monstrosity was fearless… As it neared the aerial defense line formed by the Airships, it suddenly shot upward, avoiding the approaching net of light. Then, it raised a hand and unleashed a thick bolt of red-light lightning, striking an Airship and causing it to detonate completely.

Two high-rank mages had sensed the danger ahead of time and escaped the vehicle, which had suffered a sympathetic detonation due to a damaged power core, in the nick of time. Suspending themselves in the air on their own power, they charged toward the enemy without hesitation.

But their target executed another nimble aerial turn, slipping through the gap between two Airships. It made no other move, yet the Airships immediately seemed to lose all power. Their power cores overloaded and began to smoke as they tilted and fell toward the ground.

Two more high-rank mages from nearby Airships emerged, joining their colleagues to block the creature from the front and back. Several instant-cast spells shot out, completely enveloping its form in mid-air.

But the expected shockwave from the combined elemental magics never occurred… The high-circle spells struck its body like small pebbles dropped into a deep, dark pool. They didn’t even create the faintest ripple, simply dissipating into nothingness.

More high-rank battle mages, led by Stormwalker, arrived and surrounded the bizarre enemy.

A frost-and-snow tornado summoned by an ice mage rose from the ground, assisted by the biting, frigid wind, and completely enveloped the aerial battlefield. Most of the elemental casters in the group began to quickly condense their signature creation-type offensive spells, the invisible mana fluctuations causing the very space around them to slightly distort.

Two high-circle Scorching Fire spells were the first to be released, blasting straight toward the target… closely followed by several Arcane Energy blasts. There was even a faint fluctuation of force magic mixed in, clearly a hidden preventive measure.

The non-human monstrosity’s flight path was slightly affected by the frost-and-snow tornado. Although it managed to evade the first few waves of attacks, it was ultimately hit squarely by the overwhelming magical barrage that followed.

The turbulent energy from the magical detonations raged ceaselessly, and the violent fluctuations spread rapidly… forcing several of the closer Spellcasters to retreat quickly to avoid it.

“It couldn’t have dodged that many attacks… No matter how tough that strange, crystal-red husk is, it should have been shattered.”

With this level of clustered casting, the target should have been utterly annihilated, not even a speck of its remains left behind.

Stormwalker let out a long sigh of relief and looked down at the ground… Soldiers were gathering around the crashed Airships, struggling to pry open the twisted metal gondolas in an attempt to rescue any mid-rank mages who might have survived.

This interception operation, which deployed all the on-duty high-rank mages at the base, had been reasonably successful. It was just that during the fight, he had unintentionally made eye contact with the monster’s single eye on its chest for less than half a second—

Even now, his mind was still reeling, and he could feel his vast and abundant mana teetering on the verge of spiraling out of control.

Was this the intelligence His Majesty and the others had extracted from the captive Winged ones… a truly powerful Evolved one from the Demonic Lizardman race?

Quickly composing himself, Matthews gestured to his companions still standing in the air, preparing to regroup and return to the ground.

But in the patch of sky where the enemy had been, a spatial fissure suddenly tore open.

The crystal-red figure of the monstrosity reappeared. Before anyone could react… the red crystals covering its entire body vibrated violently, and thousands of deep red plasma streams erupted, engulfing four unprepared high-rank mages in the vicinity.

Sudden Business Trip, Taking a Day Off Tomorrow!

Sudden business trip, taking a day off tomorrow!

I received a notice early this morning that I have to go to Guiyang… and I have to leave this afternoon.

I basically won’t be able to do any writing on the road, so I can only take a day off!

I’m very sorry!

Chapter 705: Desperate Battle

“Watch out!” Stormwalker roared, a mixture of shock and fury in his voice. “It used a spatial fissure to dodge the clustered casting!”

The other high-level Mages reacted instantly, either casting defensive spells or veering away to dodge, searching for a gap in the web of red plasma that could offer cover.

Four of the closest Mages were unfortunately hit directly. Except for one, on whom the fluctuations of a defensive artifact appeared, the other three convulsed as their robes, hair, and skin were instantly scorched black. Smoking, they plummeted straight toward the ground.

From the group still hovering in the air, a few Mages immediately broke off and dove to the rescue. Stormwalker’s focus wavered for a moment, and he saw the crystal-red, non-human creature suddenly blink… Then, the ice-ring shield he had conjured around himself shattered violently. A slender, twisted arm materialized from thin air, grazing past the vital spot on the side of his neck with enough force to send him flying back several meters.

Two of his colleagues, who had always fought alongside him, reacted instantly. They flew over to shield him, but before they could check on Stormwalker’s injuries, the empty space before them twisted again… The crystal-red creature emerged once more from a spatial fissure.

“This isn’t a short-range teleportation spell…” Stormwalker’s voice trembled. “Even a Legendary Caster’s planar blink requires pre-set formations in the vicinity to connect to the Magic Net. It’s impossible to tear through space so frequently in such a short time.”

At this thought, he couldn’t help but focus his gaze on the enemy before him… As his eyes met the swollen, single eye embedded in its chest and abdomen, that indescribable, bone-chilling coldness flooded his heart once more.

From the beginning of the engagement until now, Matthews had sensed with utmost clarity that there was absolutely no mana fluctuation within the body of this non-human creature. Even the dense red plasma it had just shot out wasn’t a form of elemental magic; it was more like a pure, aberrant energy attack.

“This thing is like a black hole that devours all mana…”

The shockwave from his shattered shield had still affected his body. Forcing down the turbulent mana within him, Stormwalker said hoarsely, “Find a way to tie it down… The energy in this creature must have a limit. Even if we can’t kill it on the spot, we have to stop it from attacking the command post and the artillery positions behind us!”

Everyone answered in affirmation… But before they could act, the creature’s giant, swollen eye on its chest suddenly trembled rhythmically. In the next instant, a cold, hoarse voice echoed in the minds of everyone on the aerial battlefield.

“Vile exiles… Evolved ones of a lower race. Even after drawing power from the Legacy Core, you are still pathetically fragile…”

This creature… was actually using its own special ability to communicate telepathically with all the Spellcasters present!

So the high-rank beings among this non-human race could understand human language and communicate with them normally… Language was, after all, a talent that all intelligent races should possess. If not for this battle, it would have probably taken humanity much more effort to understand them.

Seeing that it had no intention of attacking immediately, Stormwalker raised a hand slightly to stop his companions from counter-attacking.

“You’re one of the… so-called powerful Evolved ones created by this ‘Primary Will’? Then where is your Primary Will?”

Communication could only delay the situation; it couldn’t truly prevent the desperate battle that was to follow. Matthews was prepared for this. He was just trying to buy as much time as possible to extract valuable intelligence from this Evolved one.

The Evolved one, however, mimicked a human gesture, slowly shaking its featureless head. Its tone was contemptuous. “Engaging in a deep conversation with you brings me no added value… just as whether you resist or resign yourselves to fate, you cannot escape the outcome of being killed by me.”

The moment its voice faded, a high-level Mage who had taken advantage of the lull to sneak behind it suddenly froze. He let out a pained grunt and violently vomited a mouthful of blood… He had been casting a force-field magic spell, attempting to cut off the Evolved one’s route for planar travel, but it had detected him and he suffered a backlash.

But this wasn’t a simple counter-spell… Matthews looked at the Arcane Mage, who was being rescued by his companions. His pale face and heaving chest made it clear at a glance that he was in a state of mana exhaustion. Just like the Son of Flame, he had clearly had all his mana drained from a distance.

Mana Devourer… This seemed to be the ability that gave this non-human Evolved one the confidence to face more than ten high-rank human Mages. Compared to the magic-resistant hide of ordinary Demonic Lizardmen, this was a far greater counter to a Spellcaster’s attacks. At the same time, its red-light lightning was more powerful, not to mention its bizarre ability to travel between planes.

Stormwalker clenched his fists and subtly scanned his surroundings. Besides himself, there were only six other high-rank Mages who were uninjured and still capable of fighting. It shouldn’t be difficult for the seven of them to hold it off… but the most fatal problem was the enemy’s incomprehensible Mana Devourer ability, which could easily render a companion completely powerless. Trying to stall for time until its energy ran out and it retreated on its own seemed almost impossible now.

As for the high-level Illusionist Duncan and his two disciples stationed at the Great Bear Lake Base, even if they received the distress signal from the front line… it would still take them nearly a quarter of an hour to reach the ice sea via the teleportation array.

If only the Son of Flame hadn’t been ambushed and injured before the battle started… Among their group of more than ten, he had the most combat prowess and experience. He would surely have been able to think of a better way to deal with this great enemy.

“There’s no time to worry about that now… We have to hold it off for at least a quarter of an hour! We’ll figure out the rest when reinforcements arrive!”

The two companions by his side understood, giving him a knowing look.

Just then, several gunshots echoed from the ground below. Magic stone bullets, following trajectories too fast for the naked eye to see, shot straight toward the Evolved one!

The deep-red crystalline attachments on its body suddenly rippled like water. Then, its body tilted slightly, and it seemed to stumble two steps while hovering in the air.

The Magical Energy Bullets, forged from pure magical energy, actually posed a greater threat and dealt more damage to it than a battle mage’s high-circle spell!

“It’s the sniper squad on the ground!” Stormwalker shouted joyfully to his companions. “Coordinate with them! Stall this thing and give the snipers a clear line of sight and angle to shoot!”

The words had barely left his mouth when the Evolved one’s crystal-red figure distorted again, vanishing into a spatial fissure in an instant.

A sense of danger that stemmed from the depths of Stormwalker’s soul erupted. He marshaled his surging mana to its absolute limit, conjuring an ice-ring shield before him that was even larger and more solid than the last, protecting himself and the two companions by his side.

A flash of red light, and the rapidly spinning shield shattered… This protective spell, which should have been able to withstand the bombardment of a high-circle fire spell, was completely undone by a casual wave from the Evolved one. The mana matrix and elemental condensation it contained were instantly erased, reducing it to its original state.

The Evolved one could directly devour and revert… the mana and principles contained within a fully formed spell!

As his defensive spell was instantly nullified and shattered, Stormwalker was profoundly shaken. He no longer had time to dodge the red-light lightning that came next.

But at that critical moment, the two companions closest to him lunged forward, tackling him out of the way.

Chapter 706: The True Guardians

Everything seemed to happen in an instant.

Stormwalker Matthews Willy felt the abundant mana in his body uncontrollably drain away. After being shoved aside by his comrade, he could no longer sustain his flight spell. The world spun around him as he plummeted toward the ground.

In his panic, he whipped his head around. From within the red-light lightning that had just been aimed at him, the non-human Evolved one’s withered, twisted long arm shot out of a spatial fissure, plunging straight into the chest of the comrade who had taken the blow for him.

No—

Matthews tried to scream, but found he couldn’t make a sound as he fell, only the constant whistling of the wind in his ears.

A high-rank Mage shot over, catching him just a second before he hit the ground. Flying in a graceful arc across the sky, he scooped up the Stormwalker and saved him.

“Lure it… lure it to the ground!” Matthews coughed up a mouthful of blood, stammering out the warning.

The few battle mages still confronting it in the sky also realized the key. After casting several instant-cast spells, they covered each other and flew toward the ground.

The earth mage at the rear of the formation couldn’t dodge in time. After the rock shield he had condensed on his body was instantly dispelled, he was pierced by several black crystalline spikes.

Fortunately, his body, like the Son of Flame’s, had undergone demonic modification by Alchemists. Although he wasn’t rescued by a comrade in time and crashed heavily into the ground, creating a deep crater, he stubbornly climbed back up, clutching his shattered left arm and grunting in anger through clenched teeth.

A Bloodline Warrior who had been lying in ambush nearby rushed forward and, without a word, dragged him into an ice fort that was half-buried in the ground.

“Don’t move! The bones in your arm are shattered and piercing your skin!”

The Bloodline Warrior shoved his scabbard horizontally into the mage’s mouth and told him to bite down. Then, with a few clean, swift slashes, he cut off the crystalline spikes embedded in the mage’s chest, abdomen, and waist. There was no time to send him to the medical center, and not pulling out the spikes immediately would actually help plug the wounds and prevent massive blood loss.

But the true, soul-searing agony the earth mage felt… was actually the trauma caused by mana exhaustion after his spell was dispelled.

As expected, the Evolved one pursued them from the sky to the ground. After using planar blink again, it suddenly appeared above the heads of those who had just landed and, with a raise of its hand, unleashed a sky-blotting volley of crystalline spikes.

Two elemental casters hurriedly raised their condensed shields, narrowly blocking the attack.

No one dared to easily counterattack with offensive spells now. Once the spell’s structure was dissolved and its mana devoured, even their own magical runes would suffer irreversible concussive damage.

Back when they fought the Demons in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, these powerful high-rank mages had never encountered such a setback. Even when they ran into the rare Ascendants among the enemy, it was usually a matter of trading high-circle spells and high-rank magic artifacts. They would be evenly matched in a firefight, with neither side able to gain an advantage.

But this Evolved one from the Demonic Lizardmen not only possessed extremely high magic resistance, but also the ability to counter magic at any time in close combat. It was practically a silver bullet tailor-made to kill human Spellcasters.

In a brief exchange that lasted only an instant, a wide-area volley of crystalline spikes injured two more high-rank mages. As they escorted the heavily injured Stormwalker from the heart of the battlefield, a comrade skilled in nature-type spells was pierced through the shoulder blade and calf by two spikes. Gushing blood soaked his dark military uniform, and the wounds were so deep, with flesh torn aside, that bone was visible. He could no longer maintain the high level of concentration needed for casting.

Matthews felt the mana channels in his body on the verge of collapse. He struggled to pull a potential-stimulating pill from his waist and swallowed it, just barely managing to pull his fading consciousness back from the brink.

At the same time, his four remaining comrades engaged the Evolved one in ground combat again, and the Bloodline Warriors who had arrived earlier as reinforcements also joined the fray with their blades and guns.

Fortunately, the explosive bolt guns they wielded posed some threat to the enemy. Each bullet fired created a ripple on its crystalline shell. While it couldn’t instantly break the armor, seeing the deep red crystal gradually dimming made it clear that its defensive power was being drained.

Just then, a large force of Demonic Lizardmen, using numerous Conch Beasts as mobile shields, crossed the several-kilometer-long death zone. Braving the continuous artillery bombardment, they closed in on the humans’ first line of defense.

Thanks to the Evolved one single-handedly tying up all the human high-rank mages and most of the floating Airships, the enemy suffered no aerial attacks at all during their charge. This allowed the relatively few Winged ones to operate freely, flying to the front lines and attacking the Northern Army on the ground without restraint.

The situation on the battlefield was starting to look dire.

Matthews snapped back to his senses and grabbed a Bloodline Warrior who had just rushed to his side. “Don’t commit all our forces to encircling the Evolved one!” he urged breathlessly. “The Bloodline Warriors need to go to the front lines and help the soldiers stop their main army from breaking through the defensive line!”

No matter what, the base’s defensive line absolutely could not be breached.

Before the warrior could reply, a scorching, blinding beam of light shot from the distant horizon. It precisely grazed the non-human Evolved one’s shoulder and back before burying itself in the hard ice.

Dazedly, he looked back. It was a high-rank mage who had come as reinforcement from the Great Bear Lake Base—the Eye of Illusion!

He was hovering high in the air, vaguely seeming to hold a “big gun” far larger than normal. Behind him floated his companion, the Astrologer, who held a crystal ball in one hand while the other rested on the Eye of Illusion’s shoulder, clearly in a state of linked casting.

The Evolved one, grazed by their shot, now had a visible scar on its previously indestructible crystalline shell. Although the wound didn’t penetrate to the flesh beneath, the fine web of cracks around it showed that it had sustained significant damage.

“What… What kind of weapon is that?” the Stormwalker asked hoarsely.

The Bloodline Warrior supporting him pursed his lips and muttered with a hint of envy, “That’s Mr. Eye of Illusion’s… custom-made, single-shot beam sniper rifle! He begged His Majesty and Minister Chris for it!”

The Evolved one, ambushed from afar, shuddered again. It released hundreds, even thousands, of flying streams of deep red plasma in a circle around itself, blasting two of the nearby high-rank mages and sending them flying.

A sharp shriek, like that of a lion and a vulture combined, came from overhead. Duncan, the Illusionist, had transformed into a giant griffin whose wings blotted out the sun. Braving the dispersing red-light lightning, he slammed head-on into the Evolved one, sending it flying.

The sharp, mantis-like blades that extended from his flanks stabbed directly into the creature’s crystalline shell, but only managed to scratch two shallow white marks, causing little actual damage.

But the sudden impact sent him and the Evolved one tumbling together. Tangled up, they crashed heavily into a nearby barracks.

The Bloodline Warriors swarmed after them, only to be forced back again and again by a volley of crystalline spikes shooting out from the barracks ruins.

Many of them were pierced by the sharp crystalline spikes. Blood soaked their uniforms, spattering the white ice like scattered stars, blooming into clusters of grim, red flowers.

Chapter 707: Mutual Destruction

Boom—

Eye of Illusion, in his giant wolf form, was grazed by a thick bolt of red-light lightning. He was sent flying backward, smashing through the last wall of a tottering barracks before crashing heavily onto the hard ice, plowing a deep trench.

The Astrologer, taking advantage of the opening his teacher and comrade had created at the cost of grievous injury, raised his rapidly spinning crystal ball and blasted a high-circle Starshatter Spell at the enemy, who had just emerged from the collapsed structure.

The battle instantly reached a fever pitch. Any Spec Ops members with slightly weaker bloodline power were hit by scattered red light and a volley of crystalline spikes within the first exchange, instantly losing their ability to fight.

People continuously rushed out from the surrounding cover to quickly drag away the wounded who had fallen in the snow… Within a radius of several dozen meters centered on the non-human Evolved one, soon only the four high-rank members led by Master Duncan remained.

A life-and-death struggle between transcendent beings of this level was no longer a situation where ordinary mortal soldiers could intervene and influence the outcome.

Wayne and Dav led a team of snipers, climbing onto the rooftops of buildings scattered around the battlefield. They used their superior vantage point to lock their rifles on the target, but unfortunately, they couldn’t find a suitable opportunity to fire as they had from the air.

After nearly half an hour of fierce, deadly combat, the non-human monster’s relentless barrage of lethal attacks showed no sign of energy depletion, nor did it show any intention of retreating.

From the very beginning… it had probably intended to pin down humanity’s high-rank combatants for its main force, while also finding and destroying the artillery position that posed the greatest threat to it.

The Spitter Worms approaching the front line were now able to withstand the suppressive fire of the soldiers, launching cluster after cluster of thick, long crystalline spikes toward the middle and rear of the base. A large number of reinforcing soldiers and logistics units were delayed and cut off by this sudden assault, unable to assist the front line as planned.

Commander Vaughn, who had taken the beam Sniper rifle from Eye of Illusion, also arrived with a team of high-ranking military officers possessing transcendent abilities. He crouched behind a supply crate, his gaze solemn as he aimed his rifle at the enemy.

That distorted figure, which sometimes vanished into the void and at other times appeared out of thin air, looked like a crimson demon in their eyes.

Duncan controlled a massive griffon phantom form, slamming it fiercely into the Evolved one. The phantom’s body continuously expanded and contracted amidst the swirling snow… Eye of Illusion and the Astrologer, who knew him well, understood that their teacher was instantly reforming his mana circle to desperately maintain the spell after the enemy had dispelled it.

But even for a high-rank spellcaster, the vast mana within his body would eventually be consumed. The next time he closed in to grapple with the enemy, his figure was blasted away by the red light, and it took a full ten seconds before he could reform and solidify again.

At that very moment, Vaughn, who had been watching the battle intently, suddenly stood up and raised his rifle. Seizing the critical instant when the Evolved one’s back was exposed, he fired a beam—

The pure Magic Net energy accurately struck its unprotected back, sinking silently into the crystalline shell like a red-hot dinner knife plunging into soft butter.

A piece of red crystal, the size of half a shoulder blade, broke off its back. The moment it hit the snow, it vaporized and vanished without a trace.

The energy impact from the Beam Weapon was silent yet violent, punching a hole straight through the Evolved one’s body. Although the red crystal at the wound’s edge immediately squirmed and sealed, closing off its soft, exposed innards from the air, a gush of reddish-black fluid still sprayed onto the ground.

It was wounded!

Everyone involved in the fight was ecstatic. Vaughn’s eyes lit up as he raised his weapon again, hoping to seize the opportunity to finish it off with another shot!

The Evolved one staggered two steps, then its body vanished on the spot again.

The next second, a skinny, crystalline-red arm suddenly jutted out from a spatial fissure half a meter in front of where Vaughn stood, slapping the long rifle out of his hands with a single claw.

The enemy was so fast that even a high-rank Bloodline Warrior couldn’t react in time!

Immediately after, a black crystal longblade materialized in its hand and swung in a fatal arc toward the vital spot on Vaughn’s neck!

The surrounding Bloodline Warriors were horrified, but the longswords and explosive bolt guns clutched in their hands were too slow to make any attempt to block.

In a flash, Duncan and Stormwalker shot forward at top speed. Just as Vaughn instinctively reacted and leaned back slightly, they each threw a frigid ice spike and a phantom sonic wave, slamming into the enemy’s embrace along with their spell-like attacks.

The three of them flew out in a tangled mess, then separated in mid-air and crashed to the ground.

The black crystal longblade, swung in that fleeting instant, still managed to slash a horrifying wound across Duncan’s semi-metallic chest. Through the mangled flesh and broken ribs, one could faintly see his exposed heart and lungs… If he were to dispel his phantom form now, he would likely die from his grievous injuries in an instant.

“Teacher! No—”

The Astrologer set down the heavily wounded Eye of Illusion and roared as he lunged toward Duncan, whose life now hung by a thread.

The Evolved one, meanwhile, had crashed diagonally into the entrance of a nearby defensive fortification half-buried in the ground, snapping a load-bearing pillar made of solid ice in half.

“Damn monster!” Two Bloodline Warriors guarding the fortification immediately raised their guns, madly squeezing their triggers and unloading their explosive bolt guns into it, tearing open the through-and-through wound that had just healed.

The Evolved one seemed dazed from its injuries. It only reacted after being hit in multiple places, raising a hand to swat the two men back with a whip of red light.

…

“Old man! Don’t go…” The Son of Flame, half-lying on a stretcher inside the cover, poured all his remaining strength into his right arm to hold back old Carson, who was trying to rush out and help. “That’s not a fight you can join! If you don’t want to die, take the Engineers and get behind me!”

But old Carson, his hair and beard white, just shook his head. He silently gave a meaningful look to the soldiers under his command. A few young men understood immediately, lifted the Fire Mage’s stretcher, and retreated deeper into the cover.

Such terrible luck! Why did a terrifying enemy that even a team of high-level casters couldn’t defeat have to be drawn to the entrance of their defensive fortification…

This… this shelter of theirs was where the largest number of wounded and non-combat logistics personnel had been moved…

No…

I have to find a way to stop it, even if it’s only for a moment… At least buy enough time for the retreating soldiers and wounded to escape to other fortifications through the underground passageways!

Old Carson had rarely seen combat in his entire life, and the number of offensive spell-like attacks he knew was pitifully small. Seeing the two Bloodline Warriors at the entrance grievously wounded and sent flying, he couldn’t afford to think any longer.

He stumbled out of the bunker, forcing his bloodshot eyes wide with fear. In his panicked state, he spotted a pile of Portable Cannon ammunition not far from the shelter, left there due to the sudden battle.

The enemy, at this moment, seemed to be completely unaware, its back turned to him…

The old Fire Mage hesitated no more. Mustering his courage, he forced the thin mana in his body to surge violently, and a faint layer of fire erupted over his skin.

Then, like an extraordinary warrior who had activated a Frenzy bloodline, he shot forward like a cannonball, straight toward the enemy before him.

The instant their bodies made contact, old Carson felt that though the non-human monster was crystalline red, its body was bone-chillingly cold… while every inch of his own skin felt like it was on fire.

This was the clear omen of mana exhaustion, of his mana circle collapsing… a situation Carson had never experienced in his life.

He wrapped his flaming arms tightly around the Evolved one’s torso, unafraid of the crystal blade in its hand that pierced his abdomen. His own body was scorched black by repeated bursts of red light.

The moment they crashed into the pile of ammunition crates, the weak flames clinging to Carson’s body suddenly flared violently. Immediately after, the surrounding ammunition was triggered, and the fire and energy shockwave from the sympathetic detonation created a small mushroom cloud that rose straight into the sky.

The brilliant light even pierced the heavy twilight gloom for an instant, briefly illuminating the sky above the entire base.

Chapter 708: The Successor

A sudden summer squall swept through the Northern Realm, offering some respite to the bustling, sweltering Starfire City.

Harvey slowly handed the alchemical communicator to Salas, his expression grave as he sighed. “Ice Sea Base was attacked. An Evolved one appeared among the enemy ranks, and a high-level Mage has tragically fallen in battle…”

Salas put the earpiece to his ear and listened for a moment before hanging up, his expression calm. He exchanged a look with Dawson, who was also aware of the situation at the front, and said in a low voice, “This was to be expected, Your Majesty… There’s no need to be so distressed.”

“Over the past century, the Federation and the seven wizard kingdoms have suffered countless casualties in Blackstone City. Many renowned high-rank mages have fallen there, including scions from the main bloodlines of ancient wizard families and many young, academy-trained geniuses.”

Under the shadow of death cast by a war between races, there was no discernible difference between ordinary mortals and transcendent beings… Whether renowned or obscure, none were granted any special favor.

Still, Harvey found it difficult to accept that a single raid by a non-human Evolved one had resulted in the deaths of two high-rank mages and the sacrifice of more than ten low and mid-rank Aerial Combat Mages.

“So much time has passed since the war began, yet the Demonic Lizardmen have only dispatched a single Evolved one to the battlefield… This tells us that Evolved ones are incredibly precious and rare among their kind, their scarcity comparable to our own Legendary Casters—truly one in ten thousand. To have successfully intercepted and killed it must be an unbearable loss for the enemy’s main consciousness.”

When faced with such grave matters, the two Legendary Chiefs were always exceptionally rational. They seemed to view the deaths of high-rank Mages as a cold, calculated price for victory, but in reality, they were also offering Harvey their unwavering support.

To achieve final victory in this war of extermination, they had to be willing to pay any price, to face death without fear.

Harvey nodded in agreement and said somberly, “Indeed. Grieving for our fallen comrades does not prevent us from advancing steadfastly toward our ultimate goal. As the saying goes, ‘With great power comes great responsibility’… These colleagues who have given their lives for this war will surely be enshrined in the monuments of human history!”

“‘With great power comes great responsibility’…” Dawson mused, as if savoring the profound truth in Harvey’s words. “Your Majesty is absolutely right. That phrase… is the perfect encapsulation of why Spellcasters bear the heavy burden of guarding our people and fighting bravely against the non-human races. It is also the most glorious epitaph for the fallen.”

…

At Ice Sea Base, in the Barracks area near the rear command post, a massive crater over ten meters in diameter scarred the surface of the ice. It was surrounded by scattered specks of blood, starkly conspicuous against the pure white snow.

Vaughn clenched his fists and slowly approached, staring at the scorched pit created by the sympathetic detonation of artillery shells. His expression was heavy, and he remained silent.

Behind him, several high-rank Mages, some standing on their own and others supported by comrades, also said nothing… The thunderous roar of artillery bombardment continued to echo from the sky, and the acrid smell of burning Dragon’s Flame powder filled the air.

But at this moment, all they wanted was to observe a moment of silence for their fallen colleague.

When that obscure low-rank Mage rammed the wounded Evolved one into a pile of ammunition in a final, suicidal act, everyone nearby had been stunned… The violent energy surge from the sympathetic detonation almost instantly vaporized the bodies of the nameless hero and his enemy. Even the solid ice on the ground melted and evaporated in a flash, sending a plume of black smoke soaring into the sky, where it lingered for a long time.

“How… How did he do it?” Vaughn managed to choke out, his voice hoarse. What he had really wanted to ask was, Wasn’t that man afraid to die? But he couldn’t help but change the words as they left his lips.

The facts had already proven it to everyone. To protect the wounded and the non-combat personnel in the shelter, that Spellcaster had indeed cast aside all thought of his own life and death, choosing to perish together with the enemy rather than let his comrades be attacked.

Stormwalker, supported by another, walked to Vaughn’s side. He coughed twice before speaking with difficulty. “If I’m not mistaken, it was a secret Hoden family art that unleashes one’s potential by consuming the Source of their life to temporarily amplify their mana. Once used, the damage to one’s magical runes and mana pathways is irreversible. Even if… even if he hadn’t been killed in the blast, he would have been…”

Son of Flame, who was being carried out of the shelter on a stretcher, glared with bloodshot eyes and forced himself to say angrily, “His name was Carson. He came from a small wizard family, a vassal to House Hoden. He was over fifty… Heh, and his power was still stuck at the initial rank.”

He paused, batting away a soldier’s hand that was offering a handkerchief, and continued in a low voice, “The only reason he got a position as a Logistics director in the Northern Army was because he went through a lot of trouble to find me and ask for a favor… He, he originally wanted to teach at the Spellcaster Academy… but unfortunately, his spellcasting abilities and knowledge base weren’t up to the task.”

Although Son of Flame wracked his memory for details about the fallen man’s background, this was the extent of his knowledge… An obscure, low-rank Mage. If not for their distant connection, he probably wouldn’t have given him a second glance on any other day.

In contrast, the young maintenance soldiers carrying his stretcher, who had been holding back for a long time, finally broke down and began to wail. They threw themselves at the edge of the massive crater and began digging futilely through the scorched earth with their bare hands… Though they knew the chances were slim, they tried their best to find Sir Carson’s military tags—the crucial proof of a soldier’s identity, rank, and position, and one of the few things that could serve as a memento for his memorial.

“Stop looking… The destructive force of a sympathetic detonation can melt even steel in an instant…” Son of Flame couldn’t bear to watch, but he spoke up to stop them.

Vaughn slowly stepped forward and helped the lead maintenance soldier to his feet. “At the critical moment, you didn’t abandon the wounded to retreat alone,” he said gently. “Though that was partly because Lieutenant Carson fought to the death to buy you time, the rest of you are also worthy of commendation.”

“Corporal, what is your name?”

“Sir! I, my name is Matteo!”

Vaughn nodded and patted his shoulder encouragingly. “From now on, you are the director of this engineering maintenance team. Lead your soldiers and continue to support our comrades on the front lines! For the fallen Lieutenant Carson, and for everyone!”

Stormwalker and Eye of Illusion slowly approached and whispered in Vaughn’s ear, “Master Duncan’s injuries are extremely critical. We’ve already contacted His Majesty and the two Chiefs. As per their instructions… I’m afraid Dean Arturo will be arriving at the front lines via the teleportation array shortly to perform a complete soul transfer and alchemical modification on him.”

Vaughn nodded to show he understood. After a pause, he couldn’t help but ask, “What about the other high-rank mages?”

“Two of our high-rank colleagues died on the spot… It was too late to perform a life-saving soul transfer on them. Nearly everyone else was wounded, and the most severe cases have been sent to the Battlefield Medical Center for treatment… We have an ample supply of alchemical potions for injured Spellcasters, so they should be alright.”

Chapter 709: The Counterattack

The last rays of the setting sun finally vanished below the horizon, replaced by the dimmer, fainter light of the moon.

The battle on the snowfields of the Ice Sea had already raged for nearly three hours.

The roar from the artillery positions never ceased. Shells bursting from the barrels streaked across the sky like a meteor shower, standing out starkly against the night-shrouded Icefields.

With the official debut of the first batch of solid incendiary bombs delivered to the front lines, the entire white-hot battlefield was completely illuminated… Every incendiary bomb that landed and exploded would instantly ignite everything in a large area.

This was especially true for the giant Conch Beasts the enemy used as shields at the front lines. Once hit by the highly adhesive incendiary bombs, their entire bodies would become like mobile lighthouses of flame, their own black water and flesh serving as fuel, continuously illuminating the battlefield for the humans.

On the first early-warning line, the sounds of gunfire and beam weapons were relentless. With the continuous arrival of Bloodline Warriors from the Spec Ops squads sent as reinforcements from the rear, several sections of the defensive line that had been under heavy assault and on the verge of collapse were stabilized once more.

The Airship force arrived nearly an hour late. The moment they crossed the front lines, they immediately launched a counterattack against the enemy’s Winged ones, quickly resolving the trouble and harassment from the sky for the ground troops.

Vaughn, leading several senior staff officers, ascended a watchtower closest to the front line. With a grave expression, he gazed at the nearby battlefield in silence.

“Commander, if this continues… we estimate that in another hour at most, the enemy will collapse from excessive casualties. If they don’t choose to retreat, we might even be able to annihilate them completely.”

The Staff Department’s assessment and recommendation were not entirely based on blind arrogance or a simple desire to boost morale.

After successfully ambushing and killing the Evolved ones the enemy had sent to raid the base, the pressure on the front-line troops had drastically decreased. Not only did they once again have the pinpoint support of the Spec Ops Bloodline Warriors, but they also regained air superiority with the help of the Aerial Combat Mages. Furthermore, with the introduction of the powerful and specifically targeted solid incendiary bombs, the greatest weakness of human forces—limited vision during night combat—was completely overcome.

Seeing that Vaughn remained silent, Dickinson tentatively suggested, “Once the enemy routs and retreats, we should immediately give chase, pushing straight to the vicinity of Upwelling Number 17 to seize this opportunity and destroy the newly appeared Number Four Floating Island.”

To his surprise, Vaughn slowly shook his head, his expression calm as he said, “No… After we crush them, we need to immediately issue a counterattack order to the troops stationed near Upwelling Number 13. At the same time, we’ll dispatch reinforcements from the base. Before the sun rises tomorrow at dawn, we must completely destroy their Number Two Floating Island!”

The Commander intended to strike at the enemy’s Number Two Floating Island first?

Dickinson and Ross looked somewhat astonished. After exchanging a knowing glance, they said in unison, “But we just defeated Number Two Floating Island. The forces it had stored inside are long since depleted. Destroying it would be an easy task for us. Why not go after the new, more threatening Floating Island?”

Vaughn gave a faint, unreadable smile. Recalling the guidance he had received during his recent call with His Majesty, he said mildly, “The enemy’s main consciousness possesses extremely high intelligence. The moment it realizes its Evolved ones have been successfully intercepted and killed by us, Number Four Floating Island will definitely not stay put and wait for death… After all, compared to Number Two Floating Island, which is already a decoy and a sacrificial pawn, this new Floating Island hidden in the foggy sea still contains ample resources. It won’t be willing to let it sink.”

But no matter what, even if it left Upwelling Number 17, a Floating Island fortress traveling submerged in the deep sea beneath the ice would eventually have to surface again. As long as humanity mastered high-mobility capabilities for rapid movement across the Icefields and could closely monitor all the upwellings near the coastal edges… the enemy’s battle fortresses would be to them like a game of “whack-a-mole.” They just needed to set the traps in advance and wait for them to fall into them.

…

At three in the morning, at an outpost camp five kilometers from the perimeter of Upwelling Number 13.

Benny huddled inside a bunker dug into the ice, wiping his Magical Energy Gun while silently counting the shells streaking overhead.

Since receiving the counterattack order from the front-line general command at midnight, the bombardment from the artillery positions had been going on for nearly three hours. Every five minutes, dozens of shells would be fired from the rear of the engagement zone, rapidly passing over the bunker before crashing down on the Floating Island standing in the middle of the upwelling five kilometers away.

At first, the Demonic Lizardmen had managed to mount a response. Over a thousand Black Lizard warriors poured out of the Floating Island, led by a few hundred Winged ones, and charged the Northern Army’s defensive line.

But they were quickly routed by the well-prepared human soldiers, who used a dense hail of machine gun fire and a continuous barrage of portable cannons… With floating airships constantly dropping solid incendiary bombs, they no longer had to fire blindly in the dark. Illuminated by the blazing fires, the fierce and unafraid non-humans charging toward them were no different from moving targets.

As the number of troops dispatched from the enemy Floating Island dwindled, to the point where now even the Winged ones no longer appeared… everyone knew that achieving final victory was just a matter of time.

The only problem this vanguard force, tasked with the complete destruction of Number Two Floating Island, now faced was that the Floating Island fortress was simply too massive to be sunk quickly by artillery alone.

The two battalion commanders of the main combat battalion, Newman and Chiron, were even discussing whether they needed to dispatch an engineering demolition squad to board the island under the cover of Aerial Combat Mages and floating airships to plant explosive charges directly.

Continuing to pour shells into it like this was simply a waste of resources.

To conserve ammunition and protect the gun barrels from overheating, warping, or exploding, the artillery positions had already begun to gradually increase the interval between volleys.

Fortunately, the arrival of the first wave of reinforcements from Ice Sea Base successfully broke the somewhat awkward stalemate.

The reinforcements brought the high-explosive aerial bombs that the vanguard force desperately needed. They only had to be loaded onto bomber airships, which, under the cover of high-speed airships, could approach the target and drop their payload directly. This non-human main fortress, stubbornly anchored in Upwelling Number 13, would, like Floating Island Number 3 on Great Bear Lake… completely disintegrate and sink amidst the roar of human artillery.

After the bomber airships slowly took off, the enemy’s main Floating Island fortress seemed to sense something… or rather, its main consciousness sensed the approaching danger.

Numerous fissures suddenly cracked open on the top of the mountain-sized Floating Island. Many of the black water vents that had been destroyed in the bombardment rapidly writhed and sealed themselves shut, attempting to regain their ability to shoot black crystalline spikes into the sky before destruction arrived.

Several thousand Demonic Lizardmen appeared at the edge of the upwelling, dragging a small number of Spitter Worms, and once again charged the human positions.

It seemed both sides realized that the most critical moment of the battle was approaching, and they held nothing back in terms of troop deployment and attack methods. On a battlefield less than three kilometers wide, human machine guns, rifles, and portable cannons opened fire with ferocious intensity, practically flipping over an entire layer of the hard ice surface.

The Demonic Lizardmen also charged forward, fierce and unafraid of death, using the battered ice trenches to advance circuitously. When there was no other path, they would drop to the ice and crawl forward. The moment they got close to the human lines, they would instantly turn all the black water stored in the weapon canisters on their backs into crystalline spikes or spears and hurl them at their targets without hesitation.

A mixture of red and black flesh carpeted the area before the human lines, like flowers of death suddenly blooming on the white earth.

The intense battle raged on for nearly another hour.

The last bomber airship, under dense aerial cover, flew over the Floating Island and smoothly dropped the fifteenth high-explosive aerial bomb.

Number Two Floating Island, whose entire top had already been sheared off by nearly ten meters, finally collapsed under the strain… As several huge fragments broke away, the main body of the Floating Island began to sink slowly, and a thick layer of black liquid floated to the surface of the upwelling.

The Aerial Combat Mages then raised their guns and fired, instantly setting the entire sea surface ablaze. The towering flames that shot into the sky illuminated the entire night.

Number Two Floating Island had sunk… Humanity had finally won the first victory of the Ice Sea counter-offensive campaign!

Chapter 710: Mop-up and Rout

Even from several kilometers away, the commotion caused by the collapse and sinking of the massive, hill-sized Floating Island was still clearly visible to the human army in the distance.

The battle was in its final stages, and the sporadic roars of machine guns and artillery continued, but soldiers in the trenches couldn’t help but raise their hands and fire into the air. Deafening roars of celebration erupted one after another.

The few hundred remaining Demonic Lizardmen were steadily cornered by the special operations warriors. Soon, with nowhere left to run, they desperately leaped into the upwelling, which was still churning like a sea of fire. The fiercely burning surface of the sea caused them to resurface like dead fish not long after diving in. They struggled for a moment, then went still.

The Airship units automatically split into several groups, spreading out to pursue the enemies routing in the distance. More soldiers, led by the Bloodline Warriors, leaped into the interlocking ice trenches dug by the Demonic Lizardmen to engage the few non-humans still putting up a stubborn resistance in close-quarters combat.

Mopping up the remnants, clearing the battlefield, treating the wounded, and tallying the battle results… all this data would eventually be compiled into a written report, relayed from the front-line command post at Ice Sea Base, back to the capital a great distance away, and delivered to His Majesty the Emperor’s desk.

…

Near dawn, Commander Vaughn flew with a group of officers and staff to the ruins of Number Two Floating Island to listen to the front-line officers’ battle report.

All the high-ranking military officials present on the battlefield knew that the sinking of Number Two Floating Island did not signify a complete victory in this counter-offensive. Number Four Floating Island, hidden in the foggy sea of Upwelling Number 17, could still be storing a large number of the non-humans’ living forces… Although, judging by the forces they used to assault Ice Sea Base, the enemy would likely be unable to launch an attack of the same scale for a long time to come. However, no one dared to let their guard down and assume the battlefield was now completely in human hands.

After all… no one could guarantee that another “Evolved one,” as bizarrely powerful as a Legendary Caster, wouldn’t appear again in a short time.

After a quick inspection of the battlefield, Vaughn and the staff officers immediately returned to the base. They began a heated discussion about the next course of military action and reached an initial consensus before dawn—a garrisoned base with early warning and interception capabilities should be established near Upwelling Number 13, similar to the one at Great Bear Lake.

Although Number Two Floating Island had already sunk into the deep sea beneath the ice, they still needed to guard against the enemy dispatching a new Floating Island fortress to make a comeback. Therefore, the necessary surface blockade, detection and early-warning systems, and mobile combat units should be stationed there in rotation. In His Majesty’s words… a “heavy hammer,” preset by humanity, should be hung over the mouth of every “rabbit hole” along the entire ice sea coast. If these deep-sea non-humans dared to show their heads, they would be met with the swiftest and most ferocious attack!

Similarly, the Northern Army did not ignore the new Floating Island hidden in the foggy sea of Upwelling Number 17… After Ice Sea Base had thoroughly routed them, and with no new “Evolved one” sighted for an entire night, Vaughn decisively ordered the army to advance, moving toward the target by both land and air.

The slower artillery units trailed far behind, ready to provide ample long-range fire support at a moment’s notice.

Boosted by a large number of alchemical vehicles, the short distance of less than fifty kilometers was covered in an instant. The Northern Army, under the cover of its aerial units, quickly set up defensive positions. After a brief rest… they began to shell the churning foggy sea of the upwelling as evening approached.

Twenty-four hours ago, the scene had been the complete opposite… Now, the roles of enemy and ally had been reversed, with human forces steadily advancing to launch a powerful assault on the Demonic Lizardmen cowering in the foggy sea.

Whistling artillery shells cut lightning-fast trails into the steam-filled area. The sudden flashes from the explosions clearly silhouetted the twisted figures of the non-humans, sent flying in utter chaos.

After all, the fog could only obscure vision; it couldn’t stop a saturation attack from the artillery… For a blind spot merely a few kilometers in diameter, nearly a hundred magical heavy cannons using a walking barrage could easily cover the entire area.

After half an hour of high-frequency bombardment, the Northern Army again deployed incendiary bombs. The light and intense heat from the widespread fires directly dispersed much of the fog, which was generated by the intermittent eruptions of the Land-Sea’s thermal springs.

When not a single Demonic Lizardman warrior could be seen, and the Conch Beasts that had fled back from Ice Sea Base had all collapsed and died, the charge was finally sounded.

Two Special Operations Battalions, led by nearly a thousand Bloodline Warriors, took the lead, entering the foggy region first and advancing rapidly toward the upwelling… Half of the remaining mortal soldiers held their positions on alert, while the other half split into dozens of assault squads, closely following the vanguard.

Although the fog near the upwelling was thick, upon entering it, they found their vision wasn’t completely restricted. Thanks to the preliminary bombardment, which had established fixed points of fire, their advance met no counter-attacks or ambushes from the enemy.

It was only when they reached the edge of the cliff wall near the upwelling… that everyone finally understood.

Number Four Floating Island, which had never revealed itself, had in fact long since submerged back into the water and disappeared… And the enemy that had been engaging the Northern Army, but putting up almost no resistance, was actually a small contingent of Demonic Lizardman remnants that had retreated to the upwelling after their failed assault on Ice Sea Base.

Without a doubt, the moment the main consciousness learned of the Evolved one’s defeat and death, and the failure of Number Four Floating Island’s main force in the assault, it immediately decided to have the island submerge and retreat… The ordinary Black Lizard warriors, Red Lizardmen leaders, and Winged ones sent to the front lines were all sacrificial pawns that could be abandoned.

After successfully seizing control of Upwelling Number 17, another warning base with a rotating garrison also needed to be established. With the offensive and defensive positions completely reversed… the churning fog near the upwelling naturally became a physical cover and a smoke screen for the human garrison. All they had to do was keep a close watch on the sea below for any enemies who might try to make a comeback.

…

Shortly after nightfall, Harvey, who had been quietly awaiting news from the front, immediately received the final battle report for the counter-offensive. The moment he picked up the communicator’s receiver, the heart that had been hanging in suspense for so long could finally rest.

Also watching the front-line situation closely were the two Chiefs, Salas and Dawson. To get the latest battle report from Harvey as soon as it arrived, they had even uncharacteristically and shamelessly lingered in the Emperor’s study for an entire day.

“Your Majesty, has news arrived from the front? What’s the situation?”

Salas rarely showed such impatience. Harvey naturally understood what he and Dawson were thinking, as well as their additional concern… How well had the method of Spellcasters and mortal soldiers cooperating to fight the enemy actually performed in this large-scale, long-range military operation?

“Rest assured, you two. We have achieved what can be considered a total victory. The enemies occupying the two upwellings near the ice sea coast have been completely mopped up. Furthermore, the Spellcaster units killed one of the enemy’s rare and powerful Evolved ones, which will undoubtedly inflict heavy damage on their main consciousness.”

Salas nodded slightly. He and Dawson exchanged a look and, in a moment of tacit understanding, both let out a long sigh of relief.

It proved His Majesty’s words were true… A united front of transcendent beings and ordinary people, uniting all factions and classes that could be united, was indeed the key to defeating their great non-human enemy in the future.

Chapter 711: Remembrance and Inspiration

About a week later, the main army from the ice sea front began to return to the capital in succession. Immediately after, more soldiers received orders for rotational deployment, taking over the duty of guarding the ice sea frontlines and resolutely setting off for the distant land.

News that the Northern Army had defeated the non-human race in a counter-offensive immediately spread throughout Starfire City.

For the vast majority of citizens living here, few had ever truly come face-to-face with these rumored terrifying enemies. No matter how brutal or cruel the war hundreds of kilometers beyond the border was, it still failed to bring them the same level of shock and fear as the conflicts that had frequently erupted with St. Valen in the past.

The Northern Army remained ever-victorious, and the capital, isolated north of the Spine of the Gods Mountains, was an eternally unbreachable paradise.

Only the families of the returning soldiers could piece together the arduous path to victory from the fragmented words of the servicemen who had experienced the crucible of fire and blood… The enemy’s cruelty and ferocity, their fierce and unafraid charges, their sheer numbers in the tens of thousands—they were simply incomparable to the nobles of the south or the Holy See’s Army of Judgment. Even though most citizens of the capital no longer followed the Church, some still equated the image of these northern non-humans with the devils from Hell in their minds, viewing them as the most powerful enemy the kingdom would face in the next century.

The people neither feared them nor underestimated them… and this was precisely the situation Harvey and his government most hoped to see.

As for the great battle where high-level casters ambushed and annihilated the Evolved ones of the non-human race, it was deliberately exaggerated into an unprecedented legendary battle under the propaganda of the Emperor and the military’s propaganda department. The Evolved ones were depicted as prehistoric monsters as massive as mountains, wielding the destructive power of thunder and lightning. With a wave of their hands or the opening of their mouths, they could spew foul and poisonous black water, making them nearly impossible for ordinary soldiers to confront.

But fortunately, there was the Mage Corps, always standing on the front lines of humanity’s resistance against the non-human races. It was because of these Spellcasters’ fierce and fearless combat, their willingness to sacrifice themselves one after another, that even such a powerful enemy was crushed and annihilated.

This battle quickly became the hottest topic of private discussion among the capital’s citizens. Everyone realized… that relying on mortal soldiers or the small number of Spellcasters alone was not enough to achieve victory against their non-human enemies. Only by uniting, and only through unity, could they truly defeat their opponents and protect the good life they had fought so hard to achieve!

…

The Starfire Weekly, published by the Propaganda Department, released three consecutive special editions, using bold, front-page headlines to vigorously promote the entire course of the battle. The inner pages of the newspaper were filled with war journals written by front-line soldiers, recreating details of the entire campaign from various perspectives.

Although a traditional victory parade had not yet been held, and the many soldiers and officers who had earned merits in battle had not yet been commended, the ever-astute Minister of Propaganda, Ashe, had already secured a written approval from Harvey. He let his writers begin collecting interviews to extensively publicize and establish heroic models from this battle.

Whether they were common soldiers of mortal birth, battle mages of noble status, or even logistics personnel who had previously been obscure in the Northern Army, all were presented as vivid and valuable figures under the writers’ pens. This kind of officially sanctioned propaganda undoubtedly aroused the fervent emotions of the public, raising the prestige of the New Federation and the military to an unprecedented height.

Within a few short days, as public opinion brewed, a massive number of young men in the capital began to enlist in the army with explosive enthusiasm. The slogan “Defend our borders, pledge fealty to His Majesty the Emperor, and fight for the people’s peace and prosperity!” spread by certain individuals, quickly became fashionable throughout the nation.

Meanwhile, adolescents who had not yet reached enlistment age swiftly shifted their future ambitions toward becoming Spellcasters. A large number of students in public academies began seeking ways to apply to the Spellcaster Academy. This caught the academy’s admissions office, which was typically deserted due to its stringent selection criteria, completely off guard.

…

At almost the same time, the high-ranking officials of Starfire City’s government and military held a solemn ceremony in an exceptionally low-key manner to commemorate the fallen.

Although many of the mid-to-high-rank Mages who had followed the three Federation Chiefs to Starfire City had privately expressed that if they were to die in battle, they hoped to be buried like ordinary soldiers in the martyrs’ cemeteries in the southern suburbs of the capital. Having their names engraved on the Heroes’ Monument in front of the New Federation building would be an extra honor.

Many of them hadn’t even had time to leave a farewell letter before they left. It was Andri Vess, Marshal of the Blackstone City Mage Corps who led them to the Northern Realm, who had to compile them from old letters left behind during their time in the Evil Moon Mountain Range. These were then used as makeshift eulogies for today’s funeral… Some of the words were several years old, and when read aloud, they made the otherwise somber atmosphere feel somewhat comically awkward.

In the end, with the unanimous approval of Emperor Harvey and the three Chiefs, the Spellcasters who died in battle did not receive equal treatment by being interred in the martyrs’ cemeteries. Instead, a small cemetery, shaded by green trees and adorned with clusters of flowers, was specially created for them in a semi-open park behind the New Federation building.

This “special treatment” did not cause any dissatisfaction among the other Spellcasters. On the contrary, they expressed gratitude and approval for the extra attention and respect shown by His Majesty the Emperor and the kingdom’s leadership.

The public would spontaneously go to the Heroes’ Monument to pay their respects and observe a moment of silence. But as colleagues, they too needed a quiet place to remember their comrades who had fought alongside them, without being disturbed.

However, neither the martyrs’ cemeteries in the southern suburbs nor the garden cemetery at hand had the remains of the fallen buried beneath the soil. Due to the limited capacity of the Airships and teleportation arrays, the bodies of most of the fallen were cremated on the spot. Their ashes were then collected and sent back to the capital. Anyone wishing to learn about their life stories could mostly only go to the exhibition hall beneath the Heroes’ Monument and find the records of their honors and merits within a thick stack of sealed documents.

“All personnel, salute!” Commander Vaughn, who was presiding over the ceremony, wore a brand-new, all-black military uniform with a snow-white frostflower pinned to his chest. He led the funeral proceedings with a loud, procedural voice.

After the military part of the ceremony was complete, Fran Macaulay, Spellshield and director of the New Federation’s Department of Affairs, stepped forward and began another set of memorial rites for their fallen comrades, following the ancient traditions of Spellcasters.

“Under the glorious shroud of truth and wisdom, may the souls of our loyal companions find peace…”

“May your mana circles return to the Magic Net and illuminate the path for those who follow…”

“May your oaths of protection endure, and the light of the arcane and elements never fade!”

In silence, the crowd of Spellcasters raised their hands. Under the gazes of the other mortal officials and officers, they brought them together alternately before their chests. Orbs of glowing white light, representing pure mana, condensed in front of each of them. After hovering for a moment, they all rose into the sky, finally vanishing into the bright warmth of the summer sun.

With the ritual complete, the Spellshield turned his head to look at the calm-faced Emperor and asked in a low voice, “Does Your Majesty have any further instructions?”

It was Harvey’s first time participating in a Spellcaster’s funeral ceremony, but he did not find it strange. He simply nodded silently and slowly began to speak, “To those who fought bravely and died today resisting the non-human race for humanity, your names will be forever engraved upon the Heroes’ Monument, and your deeds will last for all time… Humanity will never forget!”

Everyone’s heart trembled, and in unison, they echoed, “Humanity will never forget!”

Chapter 712: The Kingdom’s New Policy

The capital, Starfire City.

Today, for the first time ever, the full assembly of the government’s high command was moved to the newly completed Administrative Council Hall, located behind the Imperial Palace castle.

With the kingdom’s government departments growing larger by the day, the old Obsidian Castle, built back in the era of the pioneer territories, had long since become cramped. The bedroom and living room on the third floor were sufficient for His Majesty the Emperor’s daily use, but his private office on the second floor and the council hall on the first were becoming too small to be practical.

The five secretariats, each liaising with a different department, alone took up a great deal of the already crowded space. The officials, not wishing to see the Emperor’s living standards lowered, naturally did not dare to cram any more administrative functions into the small castle and disturb Harvey, who had always preferred a quiet and private life.

Thus, after obtaining the Emperor’s permission, only the residences for the personal guard and attendants remained within the original Blackstone City. The secretariats and the council hall were moved out and rebuilt on an empty plot of land behind the Imperial Palace castle.

Even so, when the newly completed Grand Council Hall was put into use, it was still packed to the rafters during a full assembly. Many officials from minor departments didn’t even have standard seats. They could only have attendants find small wooden stools for them, on which they sat cramped behind their respective superiors, their legs curled, notebooks spread on their knees, ears pricked to listen attentively.

The numerous administrative secretaries and department assistants had it even worse. They didn’t even get a stool and could only stand pressed against the hall’s walls. If not for their dark blue government uniforms, they would have looked no different from the attendants and personal guards.

The so-called full assembly of the high command naturally required all high-ranking officials from every military and political department of the kingdom to be present. Nearly three hundred people gathered in the Grand Council Hall, awaiting the decree of the kingdom’s supreme ruler.

Harvey sat on the throne atop the stepped platform, looking down at the throng of heads below, and couldn’t help but shake his head with a sense of helplessness. Raising a hand, he summoned the Captain of his personal guard, Tommy, to his side and said in a low voice, “Have those secretaries and assistants standing against the wall go to the debriefing room next door. At least give them a bench to sit on. They can listen to the rest of the meeting through the alchemy communication device.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

After watching Tommy hurry off to make the arrangements, he slowly picked up the newly forged emperor’s scepter. He somewhat awkwardly tapped its pommel twice on the armrest of the throne. After the crisp thud, thud, the entire hall instantly fell silent.

“Gentlemen, I’m sure most of you know what the theme of today’s meeting is…”

“Since the start of spring, the two-month-long Operation Ice Seal has achieved a complete victory. We have thoroughly crushed the Demonic Lizardmen vanguard along the coast of the ice sea and successfully established several early-warning bases in the region to closely monitor any potential enemy movements from the upwelling. In the short term… the threat from the non-human races of the north has been effectively contained.”

The moment he finished speaking, fervent applause erupted from below, reverberating thunderously throughout the hall.

Harvey waved his hand, smiling as he gestured for them to restrain themselves, and continued, “Although we have not yet achieved final victory, we have at least fulfilled the goal we set back then: to fight the enemy beyond our borders, ensuring that neither the capital, Starfire City, nor the people of the kingdom south of the Spine of the Continent Mountains would be touched by the cruel and bloody flames of war. It has also allowed humanity, even when huddled in this small Corner of the Continent in the south, to have a pure land to live and work in peace.”

He paused, his tone suddenly shifting. “But we cannot forget… peace in St. Valen and the United Kingdom of the Northern Realm alone does not constitute true peace for all humankind. The Demonic Lizardmen have used the Floating Island to travel submerged through the Abyss, secretly crossing the Heaven’s Wrath of the Spine to invade our neighbor, Isengard. They have dispatched a large army that has been ravaging those fertile grasslands—lands that once belonged to us—for a long time. The Cavalry Kingdom now exists in name only… This much is clear from the unending stream of refugees pouring south to our defensive line along the Wolf Fang Ridge border.”

These words caused many of the officials below to fall silent. Indeed, it made no sense that humanity could defeat the Demonic Lizardmen on the Icefields hundreds of miles away, yet turn a blind eye to the suffering of their fellow kin in a neighboring country. While political barriers existed between nations, in the end, they all needed to join hands to resist the invasion of non-human races.

To passively allow them to continue their rampage and erosion in Isengard was, in a way, draining humanity’s effective strength, which was detrimental to the population and future development.

Many high-ranking officials, who had already come with plans ready to be presented, felt a jolt of energy upon hearing this. It seemed His Majesty the Emperor’s will and thoughts were, to some extent, in line with the general direction of the policies they had been discussing. It felt like a moment of tacit understanding and unspoken communication between a ruler and his ministers.

As the head of the ministers, Rainer naturally had a duty to be the first to stand. He spoke in a clear, loud voice, “Your Majesty is absolutely right. With the threat north of the capital temporarily resolved, we do indeed need to turn our sights to our neighbor. The scourge of the non-human races within Isengard must be eliminated.”

With that, he took a thick stack of documents from his secretary, walked up the steps with a bow, and solemnly presented it on Harvey’s desk. “Therefore… the Department of State believes that breaking through the Wolf Fang Ridge defensive line to the east, completely clearing out the remnants of non-human races in Isengard, and accepting the large number of people who have fled south will be the primary plan we need to accomplish for a long time to come.”

In truth, this file had been presented to Harvey half a month ago and had already undergone detailed discussion and revision. This was merely a formality in the administrative process, and at the same time, an internal briefing for the officials of the various departments below.

Harvey raised his hand and quickly flipped through a few pages, nodding. “Correct. The urgent problem we need to solve next is indeed our neighbor, Isengard… But beyond that, expanding into the vast barren lands north of the capital is also a matter of great urgency.”

He then stood up, raised his voice, and emphasized word by word, “Not just for today, and not just for the near future… Humanity will not forever be cornered in the south, a place the non-human races contemptuously call the ‘Corner of the Continent.’ After we completely liberate Isengard, we will continue to march north and conquer this primitive, savage, yet resource-rich barren land beneath our feet!”

He paused, holding up a single finger as he continued, “I call this long-term development plan, which may last for decades to come, the ‘Northern Expansion and Eastern Advance’.”

Thunderous applause once again filled the hall.

Indeed… resisting non-human races and expanding territory were achievements of nearly equal importance for a powerful kingdom and the supreme ruler who governed it.

Putting aside the grand, macroscopic direction, the officials under the Emperor and the upper class closely tied to the kingdom also needed to reap sufficient benefits from the continuous wars in the years to come. The same was true for the common people. Only when everyone could get a piece of the pie would the entire nation rally tightly around its ruler, contributing their strength to strive for a common goal.

And the ravaged, now-defunct nation of Isengard was the first cake to be served under the “Northern Expansion and Eastern Advance” policy. In the decades to follow, the even more fertile and richer Northern Barren Lands awaited, ready for them to pioneer and harvest, driven by the Emperor’s will.

The boundless Northern Barren Lands… that was a golden virgin land with an area comparable to all the nations of the south combined!

Chapter 713: A Warlike Mood

Once the Emperor himself set the overarching tone for the meeting, the high-ranking officials of the kingdom participating in the discussion grew excited, and the atmosphere in the Grand Council Hall became fervent.

Earl Fegan, who had just been promoted to the kingdom’s Deputy Director of Foreign Affairs, scanned the hall. As he had hoped, several of his close political allies gave him encouraging looks. He straightened his crisp uniform, rose slowly, and bowed to Harvey. “Your Majesty, before we implement the grand plan of Northern Expansion and Eastern Advance… we should not completely forget the nations of the south, where the political situation is unstable and regional conflicts are rampant.”

He had only just begun when he looked up and saw the Emperor on the throne give a slight nod. His initial apprehension was instantly replaced by encouragement, and he hurried to continue, “Forgive your subject’s frankness, but the royal families and nobles of the southern nations are mired in constant civil war. They are completely disunited, a group of squabbling rivals holding each other back… If this continues, they will be utterly incapable of giving us the support we need to build a united front. I fear they would be more content to be mere spectators, hiding behind our kingdom to snatch the fruits of victory!”

These words undoubtedly stirred the anger of the high officials present… It was already common knowledge throughout the south that the fledgling United Kingdom had journeyed to the Northern Realm alone to fight the non-human races. In the face of a common enemy to all humankind, apart from the Federation’s Spellcasters who still unhesitatingly chose to step forward and offer their selfless support, not a single secular nation had, to this day, expressed any shared indignation against the common foe.

This went beyond mere shortsightedness and selfishness… Even the Burrowing Dwarves, the Elves, and the Sea-folk, who typically kept their distance from Humans, had all contributed something to this long and momentous war. In contrast, the state of affairs among the human nations seemed like a joke.

Astaren chuckled softly and rose to his feet. “I believe that at this point, our kingdom should no longer consider itself an equal to the other nations of the south. Gentlemen, you must come to a realization… the Kingdom of St. Valen and the Northern Realm Federation, whether in terms of territory, resources, wealth, or most importantly, military strength, cannot be compared to any of the other nations.”

He paused, and seeing no one object, he continued, “Therefore, in this war against the invasion of the non-human races, we should not be begging them for the support and aid they owe us. Rather, we should be demanding that they pay a price for this war, a war that concerns the very survival of humanity, and in doing so, prove their worth.”

As His Majesty the Emperor’s Chief Administrative Advisor, and concurrently the head of several important departments in the kingdom, Astaren had always been forceful in his speech and actions… Yet no one dared to express dissatisfaction. After all, he and Rainer, who was also a minister of state, were His Majesty’s most trusted confidants and had the deepest understanding of the Emperor’s thoughts and intentions.

In a way, the attitude of these two men was tantamount to the Emperor’s own will.

Earl Fegan, somewhat intimidated by the rather aggressive Chief Advisor, swallowed nervously before speaking in a low voice, “But what if… what if they still refuse to support us? There are dozens of kingdoms and duchies, large and small, in the south. Not every Grand Duke or King possesses sufficient foresight and wisdom. It’s common knowledge that the nobility is notorious for producing pure-blooded fools born of inbreeding.”

Earl Fegan’s initiative in mocking the decadent ills of the aristocracy made the high-ranking officials—most of whom came from commoner and refugee stock from the barren lands—feel a sense of kinship with him. In their hearts, they began to draw a line between him and the other nobles… Some even couldn’t help but murmur in agreement.

“If they are unwilling to contribute manpower and resources…” Harvey interjected, taking the words right as Astaren was about to reply. His expression was calm as he stated flatly, “Then that means they no longer have any value. Since they choose not to stand with us, then naturally, there is no reason for them to continue to exist.”

“Your Majesty… Are we to make enemies of all the nations of the south? Wouldn’t that put us on two…”

Pierce stood up, his face grim. He gave a dark chuckle and said, “Aside from the seven wizard kingdoms led by Oland, the rest of the south are nothing but feeble weaklings. This is hardly what I’d call fighting on two fronts… The military only needs to dispatch the forces of two full battalions, supported by combat airship formations and a special operations group of at most fifty Bloodline Warriors and battle mages. Using tactical insertions and precision strikes to carry out decapitation operations… I can even guarantee to Your Majesty that the Northern Army can pull a Grand Duke or King from the southern nations off his gold- and jewel-encrusted throne every three days!”

Though these words sounded outrageously arrogant, coming from General Pierce—the commander-in-chief, a veritable madman for war—no one dared to stand and question him. The image of the Northern Army as invincible and all-conquering was already firmly established in the hearts of the kingdom’s officials and citizens. Their undefeated record against even the formidable non-human races was powerful proof of the army’s strength.

Many of the officials present were hardliners from the war faction, naturally allied with the military faction that was absolutely loyal to the Emperor. Seeing their leader, General Pierce, take a stand, they immediately chimed in with their support, launching into a fervent discussion on the matter.

Harvey, meanwhile, leaned back nonchalantly on his throne, making no effort to stop this warlike mood from spreading unchecked throughout the hall… At certain moments, extreme emotions could forge them into a single, cohesive force, uniting them tightly to strive toward a common goal.

Once the atmosphere had been sufficiently stoked, Harvey gave a light cough, pulling the conversation back on track.

“All of your proposals have merit. It is indeed unreasonable for us to be fighting the non-human races in the barren lands while they sit back and enjoy the benefits… Although the only thing of true value the nations of the south have to offer us is their population, any contribution is better than none. At the very least, their attitude must be correct and proactive.”

He paused, glancing at Astaren and Earl Fegan, who had yet to sit down. “It’s not as if we have to attack without a declaration of war, invading other countries to plunder them. Mr. Chief and Minister Fegan will have full authority to handle this matter… We shall try diplomacy before force. For negotiations with the seven wizard kingdoms, have the New Federation assist with establishing contact. As for talks with the other secular kingdoms, the military will assist.”

Astaren and Earl Fegan exchanged a look of tacit understanding, then both turned their gazes to the commander-in-chief, Pierce.

His Majesty the Emperor’s meaning could not have been clearer.

When dealing with the seven wizard kingdoms, which possessed a large number of Spellcasters, they would need to use their connections within the New Federation to mediate, with the primary goal being cooperation. After all, whether they were research mages or battle mages, they represented a vital source of outside talent for the United Kingdom in wartime. Adopting a gentle approach to entice them to join voluntarily was the best option.

As for the ordinary secular kingdoms… they could simply make their demands directly.

Population, materiel, money, land—they had to show the proper, proactive attitude and contribute something to prove their worth… otherwise, there was no longer any need for them to exist.

Chapter 714: Population “Tyranny”

“Next, there are several plans we need to pay close attention to and begin working on simultaneously… The core objectives are to expand our territory and increase production!”

On one side of the Grand Council Hall, an enormous map of the entire north and south was hung high on the wall. The majestic and sprawling Spine of the Continent Mountains ran horizontally across the center, a thick, long black line clearly dividing the map in two.

Rainer, holding a slender pointer, stood by the wall, gesturing at the map.

“Integrating resources, expanding northward, increasing production, and augmenting the army… The successful implementation of all these plans hinges on one critical issue: population growth!”

Although Starfire City had now grown into a massive urban cluster with a population of over one hundred thousand, the demands of industrial production and frequent foreign wars meant the entire kingdom still faced a severe population shortage.

The lack of labor constantly hampered their progress in expanding outward to fight the non-human races and stifled the powerful pulse of the kingdom’s heart.

In Starfire City alone, the production capacity of every state-run manufacturing department was already stretched to its absolute limit.

The recent end of the foreign conflict had consumed the vast majority of military supplies and artillery ammunition accumulated over a short period. The planned extension of the barren lands railway to the Great Bear Lake area had also created a critical shortage in the kingdom’s steel reserves.

Because of this, Harvey had even been forced to halt the production of civilian ironclad ships and suspend transportation infrastructure projects in the St. Valen southern region. The once-thriving popularization plan for alchemical farming machinery had also been forced to a halt to make way for the war in the north. If this continued… the Agriculture Department worried it might even affect next year’s grain yield.

The only way to solve the current predicament of insufficient manufacturing capacity was to increase the labor force!

Not only did Starfire City, as the capital, need to maintain a high rate of population growth… For the entire United Kingdom of St. Valen and the Northern Realm, the current population of one million needed to more than double to truly meet the demands of future war reserves and development!

“The Department of State needs to explain in detail how we are to achieve this population growth target.”

The pervasive shortage of manpower made Harvey slightly anxious. Without waiting for Rainer to continue leading the meeting, he spoke up, urging him to present a viable plan.

Rainer quickly bowed. “Your Majesty, there is no need to worry. Since the beginning of Operation Ice Seal, the Department of State has been preparing for this very task!”

He raised his hand, signaling his secretary to distribute the pre-printed and copied documents to the officials present. While everyone perused the files, he began his explanation in an orderly fashion.

“Originally, based on the capital’s natural population influx and steady growth over the past six months, by the end of this winter at the earliest… Starfire City’s population could approach the one hundred and fifty thousand mark. Looking a year ahead, reaching two hundred thousand would also be within sight…”

Harvey tapped his finger on the armrest of his throne and said decisively, “There are too many imminent problems to solve. We can’t wait that long… Fifty thousand. I need the Department of State to bring the population of the capital and its surrounding towns to one hundred and fifty thousand by this autumn, and we need to surpass the two hundred thousand mark before the end of winter!”

Hiss—

A collective gasp echoed from the crowd below. Clem, the Minister of Population Management, widened his eyes, a strange gurgling sound escaping his throat as if he were about to faint on the spot.

Rainer remained silent for a moment, the soul fire in his eyes flashing rapidly… It seemed the Soul Core embedded in his chest was performing high-speed calculations.

The hall was quiet for nearly five minutes before the tall, metal-forged Prime Minister of the Department of State finally spoke slowly, “There are less than seven months until the end of winter, but we need to complete a recruitment task of nearly eighty thousand people… Your Majesty, with all due respect, to achieve this goal, I’m afraid our only option is to launch a war of aggression against our neighboring countries and simply plunder their populations.”

As soon as these words were spoken, Pierce, who had been listening intently from the side, stood up eagerly. But before he could speak, Harvey raised a hand, quelling his surging emotions.

“There’s no need to resort to such extreme measures. The population gained through plunder would likely be less than the number who die from the war and famine-driven flight. Killing the goose that lays the golden eggs is not the way to go!”

Harvey paused, then slowly rose to his feet, his gaze sweeping across the hall. He spoke in a low voice, “This urgent plan can be approached from three different angles…”

He raised one finger. “First, open the sealed border at Wolf Fang Ridge, currently guarded by the Northern Army. We will accept all the refugees who have fled to the mountains from central and northern Isengard due to the Demonic Lizardmen’s rampage…”

Spellshield was taken aback and shot to his feet to protest, “Your Majesty, the people of Isengard… they are… they are all devout followers of the Church! Even with the fall of the Holy City Goris and the current collapse of the Church’s power, taking in such a large number of ordinary believers will cause immense disruption and chaos to the grassroots administration throughout our kingdom.”

Astaren quickly added, “Indeed, not to mention the many mid-to-low-level Church members who remained in Isengard. The Cavalry Kingdom has always been a stronghold for the Divine Punishment Faction. If these rats, mixed in with the refugees, enter our country… they will surely stir up considerable trouble.”

Harvey waved his hand dismissively. “Compared to our dire need for labor, this is a price we must pay to acquire more people… I believe that devout faith in the gods can soothe their wounded hearts, but the ethereal God of Glory won’t be sending down butter and bread to fill the empty stomachs of these displaced refugees.”

He slowly descended the steps, his voice ringing out, “But I… and the bountiful kingdom I rule, can provide them with real food to fill their bellies, clothes to ward off the cold, medicine to cure their illnesses, and warm shelter against the night’s chill. Therefore, I have absolute confidence that those with no other choice will be willing to forsake their illusory faith and embrace a genuine new life!”

Harvey’s tone then shifted as he added a directive, “Of course, the bad apples mixed in with the migrating refugees are a matter of great concern and must be rooted out one by one. For this task… the Intelligence Department and the Public Security Department, under Mr. Chief’s supervision, should promptly devise a viable solution.”

Astaren quickly bowed. “I understand, Your Majesty.”

Seeing no further objections, Harvey nodded in satisfaction and then raised a second and third finger. “The second task is a large-scale population shift from the rural villages and counties to the cities… This is a mandatory internal migration policy that must be carried out by the municipal administrative departments across the kingdom.”

After unifying St. Valen, Harvey had forcibly confiscated the fiefdoms of the noble lords to stabilize the country, but he had never targeted the freeman farmers widely distributed in the rural towns and villages…

These freeman farmers were not like the tenant farmers and hired hands who were completely dependent on the nobles. The main reason he had allowed them to retain some land was that these small, barren plots held little value and were unsuitable for large-scale mechanized farming.

But now, the situation was drastically different. Forcibly liberating these freeman farmers from their low-yield fields and relocating them directly to their corresponding municipal capitals was the fastest way to boost local manufacturing capacity. As long as the “carrot and stick” incentives were applied effectively, he believed they wouldn’t want to cling to a life of poverty on their scattered, barren plots.

Targeted ration subsidies, free temporary housing upon moving to the city to work, and wages several times higher than what they earned from farming would surely mitigate the negative public sentiment generated by the forced migration.

“Your Majesty, then… what about the third method?”

Harvey let out a soft chuckle and said slowly, “We will completely cast aside past prejudices and divisions. We will open our doors to the Burrowing Dwarves, the Elven race, and the Sea-folk—races with whom our kingdom has friendly relations—and fully recruit sub-race immigrants who wish to be naturalized!”

Chapter 715: The State Apparatus

“Your Majesty, according to reports from our intelligence agents stationed in Isengard, the Cavalry Kingdom has fallen into severe turmoil after nearly half a year of raids and harassment by the Demonic Lizardmen…”

Compared to a geographically compact central kingdom like St. Valen, Isengard, located in the northeastern part of the southern continent, was a major power in the truest sense. Not only was its territory several times larger than the other central kingdoms, but its population had also reached a staggering three million. Aside from the Northern Desert adjacent to the Spine of the Continent Mountains, the majority of its population was concentrated in the vast plains of the southeast, where they had settled down to live and work in peace on the rich, fertile land.

But the non-human race’s offensive from the north was ferocious. Continuous raids and massacres had not only reduced the capital, Ironhill, to ruins but had also led to the fall of Steelrock City, the kingdom’s second most prosperous city in the central region. This drove a large number of refugees south, causing devastating casualties of nearly six hundred thousand people.

A loss of nearly one-fifth of the population would be considered an unprecedented, devastating blow to any nation in the south.

Even the Demons, who engaged in yearly conflicts with the Humans, had never caused such a horrific situation in a human kingdom when they first crossed the Evil Moon Mountain Range to invade the south.

This led to a non-stop southward migration of war refugees from Isengard in a short period. One group crossed the border mountains, entering the rugged and complex coastal region of the Breath of the Hills directly from Thorn City in the east, leading to frequent clashes with the Cave Dwarves who had long inhabited the area.

Another group was blocked by St. Valen’s border forces in the Wolf Fang Ridge area. Small, scattered groups managed to bypass the main border checkpoints, migrating towards the more distant Da’ers.

However, Da’ers, the wizard kingdom that had always maintained close ties with St. Valen, was also resistant to the entry of these war refugees. On one hand, they despised them for being followers of the Church; on the other, Da’ers itself was a small country incapable of accommodating such a massive influx. In a short time, several border towns had erupted in small-scale riots and famines, reaching a point where they had to request aid from St. Valen, asking for border troops to help suppress the uprisings.

Harvey and his Department of State were quite experienced in handling refugees from foreign lands. Back in the early days of the pioneer territories, they had built their foundation by extensively sheltering and aiding refugees from the barren lands. Later, during their phase of rapid expansion, they seized the crucial moment of the Rotting Plague outbreak in the old capital, Goldshine City, to absorb a large amount of new population from the southern part of the kingdom.

Unlike the political turmoil and internal migration that had erupted within his own kingdom, Isengard had fallen to a foreign invasion. It had not only lost its ruler of legitimate bloodline and authority, but many of its domestic feudal lords, in a cautious effort to protect themselves, had long since abandoned their fiefdoms and residents, scattering like birds and beasts with their trusted troops to seek refuge in neighboring countries.

Currently, the entire Cavalry Kingdom was in a state of complete collapse. There wasn’t a single figure who could take up the royal banner and lead the nation’s people to resist the non-human invasion.

Therefore, rather than sending troops to assist them in a time-consuming counter-offensive to drive the rampaging Demonic Lizardmen back north of the Spine of the Continent Mountains, and then propping up a puppet ruler completely subservient to Harvey to manage the vast and prosperous neighboring power for him… it was better to simply open the checkpoints and directly accept the refugees.

After all, ever since the start of the mechanized farming rollout by the Agriculture Department last autumn, coupled with the “Harvest Number One” grain seeds that had increased yields severalfold, the kingdom was already producing enough food to feed millions. After the embargo was enacted, the storehouses built by administrative capitals everywhere were piled high with staple foods like wheat and soybeans. It had reached the point where local officials were worried about the upcoming harvest season, as the old grain reserves needed to make way for the new.

Therefore, whether it was implementing a forced population relocation policy within the kingdom or opening the borders to accept foreign refugees on a large scale, both St. Valen and the United Kingdom of the Northern Realm had the basic conditions in place. It was merely a matter of how to proceed.

“Accepting the refugees will require the assistance of the border troops. Furthermore, these refugees must be broken up by family unit. Some will be moved to the capital to fill the most urgent labor shortages in the factories, while others must be carefully dispersed throughout the kingdom’s southern regions. It is imperative that they are not allowed to concentrate too heavily, so as to avoid causing administrative problems in those areas.”

Rainer’s spirits lifted, and he quickly stood up. “The Department of State already has a detailed plan for these issues. Your Majesty need not worry.”

Harvey nodded, then asked, “Have you sent officials from the Population Department to the Wolf Fang Ridge border to survey the number of refugees stranded in the mountains? What’s the initial estimate of how many we can accommodate?”

The Prime Minister glanced at the Minister of Population Management. Clem, having been singled out, immediately rose and answered cautiously, “Your Majesty, although a thorough investigation is impossible, judging from the soaring grain prices around the Isengard border and the occasional outbreaks of famine and unrest, the number of refugees gathered in that area is likely no less than one hundred thousand.”

“That many?” Harvey was somewhat surprised.

Logically, the long border of such a vast kingdom was not a completely sealed wall. The southbound refugees could have left from any area. Even if the neighboring countries were unwilling to accept them, they could have broken into smaller groups and entered the vast surrounding mountains to escape the war. It didn’t make sense for them to be stuck suffering in the Wolf Fang Ridge area.

Astaren gave a wry smile and slowly explained, “The problem, naturally, lies with the neighboring countries. Not just Da’ers… the other duchies, large and small, bordering Isengard are all aware of St. Valen’s hostile relations and military conflict with them. They’re worried that rashly accepting the refugees would anger us and invite unnecessary trouble. As a result, they have all dispatched heavy troops to blockade their borders, shutting out the vast numbers of refugees.”

In other words, they were afraid that opening their borders to the influx of refugees would, in turn, offend St. Valen, whose strength had already made it the preeminent power in the south.

Harvey didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “We certainly can’t swallow such a massive group of refugees in a short time. Notify the Foreign Affairs Department to inform the other neighboring nations that, in these necessary times, they should adhere to the tradition of mutual aid among nations and temporarily shelter and assist these pitiful compatriots… At the same time, tell them that if their capacity for aid is limited, they can settle the refugees and transfer them to our country in batches. We will also dispatch personnel to handle the reception and offer them appropriate compensation so they won’t be at a disadvantage in this matter.”

In a sense, this was no different from a veiled form of human trafficking, a blatant act of plundering labor resources… but Harvey didn’t care about that. His focus had always been on the results.

Chapter 716: Sustainable Development

With the plan for rapid population growth now in place, the corresponding infrastructure and facilities had to follow suit.

Not just in Starfire City, but in all the capitals throughout the kingdom, it was necessary to provide adequate housing, education, and medical services for the massive influx of labor that was about to pour into the cities.

This also meant that countless construction projects would be launched immediately, creating a large number of low-skill jobs that did not require a certain level of education. This, in turn, would provide employment for the surging workforce in the short term.

Of course, the Northern Expansion and Eastern Advance would also begin a new round of comprehensive expansion. The exploration department would continuously dispatch personnel to conduct detailed surveys of the entire barren lands region under human control. Based on the distribution of resources, they would establish a series of small satellite cities to protect the capital.

In education, more public academies would be built, the popularization of literacy and vocational education would continue, and a more detailed subject classification would be implemented, uniformly dividing institutions into Night Literacy Schools, full-time basic education academies, intermediate vocational education academies, and advanced administrative management academies…

As for the study of magical theory, which had previously been an entry-level subject for apprentices in the Spellcaster Academy… with the deliberate push from the New Federation and the Academy of Sciences, it was formally incorporated into full-time basic and intermediate vocational education, becoming, for the first time in history, a semi-universal basic subject!

Such an inconceivable move was entirely due to the unique nature of this emerging nation. Alchemical technology and the application of magical energy were ubiquitous, completely permeating and transforming the lives of the populace, while also granting tremendous power to the government and the military. Integrating them into the universal education system would greatly narrow the gap between ordinary people and Spellcasters. While it might seem to pull the lofty wizards down from their so-called “extraordinary altar,” in the long run, it would undoubtedly eliminate the antagonistic contradictions between the two classes.

This was essentially the same as stripping the nobles of their real power over military forces and land in the past. Between honorary titles and tangible benefits, the more rational Spellcasters would certainly choose to cast aside the vanity of their noble status and embrace knowledge and pragmatism.

After all, under Harvey’s rule in the United Kingdom, they did not lack the sincere respect and support of the people.

Similarly, the education and training of medical personnel was formally established as a specialized professional discipline. In addition to the military medical talent that required designated training, medical academies would be opened in the capital and the capitals of all towns and cities nationwide. A large number of small and medium-sized infirmaries and clinics would also be established simultaneously to alleviate the pressure on the kingdom’s central infirmary.

In the past, among the nations of the south, there had never been a capital city with a population exceeding one hundred thousand. If administrative measures continued to be used to rapidly inflate the population, causing Starfire City to expand into a megalopolis of hundreds of thousands, or even close to a million, in the coming years, many negative issues would inevitably arise…

A large concentration of people required more infrastructure. Not only would a vast number of newly built residential houses need to be equipped with running water, magical energy lighting, and alchemical heating and ventilation, but to ensure the livability of the environment, attention also had to be paid to epidemic prevention and sewage disposal. This posed a huge challenge to the kingdom’s medical and health system. Fortunately, several years ago… they had already developed a magical vaccine capable of preventing various plagues and diseases. As long as the publicity for epidemic prevention and the dissemination of hygiene concepts were adequate, there was no need to worry too much about the rest.

The people from the old capital, Goldshine City, who had experienced that horrific Rotting Plague disaster, would be particularly proactive in prioritizing hygiene and epidemic prevention.

As one project after another concerning the national economy, people’s livelihood, and future development was finalized, the fervent atmosphere of discussion in the Grand Council Hall was once again pushed to a climax. The high-ranking officials of the kingdom, summoned here since early morning, remained focused on the meeting until nightfall. Even though they had only had a few glasses of water to soothe their throats and had not eaten a single bite, they felt no hunger at all.

Watching these officials who were still vibrant and full of energy, Harvey couldn’t help but sigh to himself. This was probably the unique “extraordinary ability” that the Dominion of power bestowed upon these people…

…

As the meeting drew to a close, Rainer, who also served as the Minister of the Treasury, hesitated several times before cautiously saying to Harvey, “Your Majesty, after the new population growth plan is officially implemented, the government and various levels of administrative departments may experience a temporary shortage of funds… For the next two quarters of this year, I’m afraid the financial reports submitted will show a significant deficit.”

This was an entirely understandable problem. To cope with population growth, the state needed to provide a large number of corresponding jobs, the government had to continuously pay out large amounts in salaries, and numerous construction projects and development plans would inevitably require massive allocations of funds.

Although the state controlled the printing presses, making a shortage of gold yuan impossible, a massive increase in currency issuance would inevitably lead to the devaluation of the legal tender and rising prices. While the problem might not be immediately apparent on a macro level, the feedback people received in their daily lives would be exceptionally clear.

Even if a dozen eggs went from two gold yuan to three, or the price of a pound of bread increased by ten percent, it might not seem to affect their quality of life. But ultimately, it would undermine the public’s long-standing trust in the government, making them worry that unfavorable news from distant wars was causing the kingdom’s finances to fall short.

Rainer was the first to broach the topic, and the officials below immediately realized the potential risks involved. Many of them had been secretly worrying about this and trying to find a solution for some time, which both pleased and surprised Harvey.

With the rapid development of this emerging kingdom, government departments had gradually expanded, and the training and recruitment of administrative personnel had been in a state of chronic understaffing. Many officials who were originally lacking in age and experience seized this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for advancement. This led to a gradual rejuvenation of the official corps. Under the strict control of the government’s assessment system, young officials were significantly better at learning administrative knowledge and practicing governance than their older counterparts. Untainted by the old system of noble rule, they even possessed a natural advantage in their understanding of integrity and self-discipline that their predecessors completely lacked.

If things continued to develop this way… completing full-time basic education at fourteen, passing intermediate vocational education at eighteen, graduating from the advanced administrative management academy at twenty, and then being integrated into the kingdom’s administrative system for training to become grassroots government personnel in direct contact with the public… within three to five years at most, they could be quickly reborn and elevated to qualified elite cadres.

These young, new-generation officials might not be as experienced in governance methods and political affairs as their elders, but their drive and ability to quickly adapt to new things brought unparalleled vitality to the entire government apparatus. For the nation, this was a crucial quality that would ensure sustainable development for the future.

Their ability to proactively identify and recognize problems and actively seek corresponding solutions, rather than rigidly waiting for orders from superiors, was precisely what pleased Harvey.

“A shortage of funds and a budget deficit due to population growth are inevitable. But a rise in the price of commodities that are the basic guarantee of people’s lives is absolutely not allowed. Let’s hear from all of you… how to solve this problem.”

Harvey then waved his hand to stop Rainer, who was about to answer. Instead, he directly picked off a young official sitting in a lower seat, who looked rather eager to speak.

“Let me hear the opinions of the young officials…”

Being suddenly picked off by His Majesty the Emperor, the reserve director from the Treasury Department, who was not yet thirty years old, flushed red. He stood up, both excited and apprehensive, and mustered his courage to say loudly, “Your Majesty, since the value of our nation’s gold yuan legal tender has always been closely pegged to gold and silver… why don’t we, after resolving the Demonic Lizardmen invasion of our neighbor Isengard, directly seize their abundant gold mines to serve as our fiscal reserves?”

At any rate, the Cavalry Kingdom no longer even had a de jure royal ruler. Looking across the entire south, apart from the St. Valen United Kingdom, there was probably no one else with the ability to get there before them and openly bring this formerly prosperous nation in the northeast of the south under their Dominion.

Chapter 717: A Proactive Test

As high summer approached, the scorching sun already beat down with a noticeable heat.

It was a rare, quiet day at the Starfire Warriors’ special training base, a compound of no great size located on the northwest side of the capital. It happened to be a public holiday, and the warrior-trainees had been granted leave. Most had left the base early, either returning to their homes in the capital to reunite with family, or heading out in groups of three or five to relax.

The only exceptions were the squad leaders, Sai Ke and Bale. They had turned down their comrades’ invitations and chosen not to go out. For one, their families were in Fengyuan City, a great distance away, and the short holiday wasn’t long enough for them to travel home for a visit.

For another, while their army pay was much better than it had been when they were new recruits, both were frugal by nature and chose to save their money in the bank. They simply couldn’t bear to spend it on fun and leisure.

“The Instructor repeatedly stressed that once summer begins, we have to pay extra attention to the joints and mechanical connections during daily maintenance on the Demon Armor. These spots can easily accumulate condensed water vapor from the heat, which can lead to rust and jamming over time.”

Sai Ke hefted the engine oil can in his hand, gave it a shake, and carefully aimed it at a joint, slowly injecting the liquefied grease into the crevice.

Bale, straddling the massive shoulder of a Demon Armor, pulled out a rag tucked into his belt and wiped the grease from his hands. “The Maintenance Center is supposed to be responsible for the Demon Armor’s repairs and upkeep,” he said, sounding a bit helpless. “But the Instructor insists we do it ourselves. The training alone is exhausting enough, and now we have to wait on these iron hulks, really…”

The equipment room where the Demon Armor was stored was fitted with numerous magical energy-driven alchemical devices, which made the indoor temperature in summer even more sweltering than it was under the sun. After staying inside for a long time, both of them were soaked in sweat, their light, short-sleeved training uniforms sticking uncomfortably to their chests and backs.

But Sai Ke didn’t complain. After expertly completing the daily maintenance, he climbed the ladder and got back inside the armor, skillfully starting up its drive system.

“My god! You’re still going to practice? It’s our day off!” Bale couldn’t help but wail. Then, after Sai Ke, controlling the Demon Armor, raised a finger at him in a provocative gesture, he rolled his eyes and climbed into his own armor.

The entire base was empty right now; he was the only one who could join Sai Ke for extra training.

…

A dense clatter of metal soon rang out across the outdoor training field. The two had opted not to equip any weapons, instead maneuvering their Demon Armor in close-quarters combat, repeatedly honing the fighting moves and combat techniques they had practiced ten million times, striving to forge them into muscle memory.

They were in the middle of a heated back-and-forth when the iron gates of the base were suddenly pushed open from the outside. An alchemical wheeled vehicle bearing the military’s insignia rumbled in. Onboard were the other two squad leaders, their close comrades Santas and Gregor.

“Whoa! Well, look at you! Still at it?”

“It’s a public holiday, can you not be so obsessed? Taking a break won’t kill you.”

Bale, who had long been sweltering inside the Demon Armor, quickly stopped. He knelt on one knee, flipped open his helmet’s faceplate, and took a deep breath before saying, “Quick… get me some ice water. The ice bucket is by the wall!”

Santas trotted over with a grin, picked up the bucket, and, as a prank, poured it over Bale’s head just as he was climbing out of his armor. The shock of the cold made Bale shiver, and he clenched his fists with a growl, lunging at Santas to teach him a lesson.

Sai Ke climbed out of his armor as well. Not bothering with the two who were now roughhousing, he looked at Gregor, who was watching the show from the side. “Weren’t you guys going to the theater? Why did you sneak back halfway through?” he asked curiously.

Gregor rolled his eyes and said with a wry smile, “How was I supposed to know theater tickets were in such high demand? It was impossible to get a seat. You actually have to book a week in advance. By the time we got there near showtime… all the tickets were long gone. Even flashing our status as professional soldiers couldn’t get us in through the back door.”

Sai Ke nodded, his enthusiasm undiminished. “In that case, why don’t you join us for some training? It’s not like there’s anything else to do.”

“Holidays are for having fun. If all you think about is training, your mind and body will turn sluggish,” Santas said, getting up from the ground and dusting himself off. He gave them a sly look. “Even if we can’t see the play, there are other fun things we can do.”

Bale asked suspiciously, “What other fun things? I’m telling you now, if it costs money, count me out…”

Santas was rendered speechless by his stinginess. After a moment, a mysterious expression crossed his face. He pulled the three of them closer and whispered, “On our last day off, I was playing cards with the officers from the Spec Ops squad at the Officers’ Club, and I secretly overheard something that will definitely interest you…”

“What is it? Is it about the Starfire Warriors? Have they finally decided to send us on a mission?”

The three of them immediately perked up their ears, pressing him for details.

But Santas just pursed his lips and gestured vaguely toward a location southeast of the base. “The Northern Army captured a lot of Demonic Lizardmen prisoners during the recent Operation Ice Seal,” he said in a low voice. “I heard there are even some of the winged species, the ones they call Evolved ones. Don’t you want to go see those rumored cruel and terrifying non-human monsters?”

Bale paused for a moment, then muttered, “What’s so special about that? We’ve seen them before… those corpses that were sent back for dissection and research. What’s left to see, inside or out?”

“Tsk… I’m talking about living non-human monsters! Not those dismembered specimen fragments you saw in theory class!”

Gregor was clearly intrigued. Fanning the flames, he added, “That’s true, we’ve never seen them alive with our own eyes. Why don’t we sneak in and take a peek…”

Santas, however, took a different turn. “What’s the fun in just peeking?” he said excitedly. “How about we take our Demon Armor and have a real combat training session with those things? I’d like to see how many rounds those supposedly formidable winged species can last against a Starfire Warrior…”

Sai Ke was startled by his audacious idea. “Are you nuts?!” he said quickly. “We haven’t even been on a single real combat mission. How can we just go up against those winged species? Their abilities are not to be underestimated. If something goes wrong, no one can cover for us!”

“They’re supposedly injected with large doses of anesthetic potion and have the black water stored in their bodies drained before they’re selected and sent to the Spellcasters’ Laboratory for live experiments. Logically speaking, they shouldn’t have much combat power or be a threat anymore.”

“Even so, we can’t just charge in and fight them, can we? If someone finds out and reports us, we’ll be thrown in solitary confinement.”

Santas waved his hand, continuing to egg them on, not ready to give up. “The officers from the Spec Ops squad said there are plenty of these prisoners; they’re basically just worthless consumables. Sometimes when their hands get itchy… they’ll drop by and crush a few to practice.”

“Besides, as long as we find a way to avoid being spotted by the guards, we’ll be fine…”

“The Instructor said it himself… the Magicalized Armor of the Starfire Warriors was specifically designed to counter these non-human monsters. Don’t you want to personally test and verify the results of our training all this time?”

Under their relentless persuasion, Sai Ke and Bale exchanged a look. Finally unable to resist the temptation, they gritted their teeth and nodded. “Fine, let’s go!” Sai Ke said in a low voice. “Wait for me to get my Chainsword from the equipment room first…”

Chapter 718: Stirring

“We’re climbing in from here? Are you sure we won’t be spotted by a patrol?”

“Of course! What, you’d rather stroll in through the main gate?” Santas rolled his eyes and pointed to the towering wall in front of them. “This area is rarely patrolled, and the Bloodline Warriors’ Barracks is right next door. Not even a rat dares to scurry past here on a normal day.”

Just as Santas had said, it was a public holiday, so most of the soldiers without guard duty had left the Barracks. Even the few who remained were mostly in their own dorms reading, not wandering aimlessly through the back alleys.

The four of them, piloting their massive Magicalized Armor, had snuck along the edge of the secluded wall to reach this spot. Besides the towering watchtowers, they hadn’t seen a single person along the way.

“This is a prison for captives, after all. Even if we get in, security inside will be tight… And we’re way too conspicuous in this Magicalized Armor. I think we’ll definitely be discovered.”

Even after sneaking all the way here, Sai Ke was still hesitant.

Santas rolled his eyes again, impatient. “What’s there to be scared of? I already looked into it. The ones guarding those non-human prisoners aren’t ordinary soldiers, they’re guard-type alchemical beasts! And the most crucial part is… they’ll ignore us as long as we’re in our Magicalized Armor.”

Once a human soldier was equipped with Magicalized Armor, alchemical beasts would see them as their own kind and wouldn’t easily obstruct or attack them. This was a semi-public secret among the Starfire Warriors. According to their Instructor, it was likely because the Soul Core fused within the Magicalized Armor essentially cloaked the Starfire Warriors in the shell of an alchemical beast, turning them into beings that were part alchemical, part soul construct.

After this final reassurance, the four of them hesitated no longer. Piloting their heavy, massive Magicalized Armor, they bent their knees slightly and kicked off the ground with a powerful leap. After soaring into the air, they placed a hand lightly on the top of the wall and effortlessly vaulted over the barrier, which was a good three meters high.

Bang—

The landing was a bit loud, immediately attracting the attention of the Sentry alchemical beasts fixed to metal swivels on the nearby watchtowers. They swiveled mechanically to look at the four, but their gaze lingered for less than a few seconds before moving away again.

Santas clenched his fist in excitement. “See, I was right! They don’t care about us at all… Wearing this Magicalized Armor is no different from wearing a disguise.”

Without further delay, the four headed towards the underground non-human detention area. After successfully tricking the alchemical constructs guarding the path, they finally reached their destination without any trouble.

Gazing at the dark-skinned non-humans lying haphazardly, crammed together in the iron cages, their curiosity was instantly piqued.

“They’ve definitely been injected with a lot of anesthetic potion. They look no different from corpses…”

“Look at their wings! They don’t have any feathers… they’re membranous, fleshy wings, like a bat’s. So disgusting!”

“How fast can these big bats fly? Can they keep up with Serpent-Scaled Griffins?”

“I think so… See, even though they’re tall, their limbs are gaunt and slender. They should be more agile and swift in the sky than demonized beasts.”

Bale pursed his lips disdainfully. “So what? When a Beam Weapon locks onto them, they’re shot full of holes like target practice in the blink of an eye. The Instructor said they’re just the lowest-rank Evolved ones among the Demonic Lizardmen, not like those one-in-ten-thousand high-rank Evolved ones… Those are terrifying beings that can take on more than ten battle mages head-on.”

Gregor, however, pondered for a moment before suddenly speaking up. “Then… if we’re on a mission alone and have to face them, how are Starfire Warriors supposed to defeat them without the support of beam-based anti-air weapons?”

The heavy Magicalized Armor didn’t grant Starfire Warriors the ability to soar freely through the skies like flying demonic beasts.

This meant their future battlefields would be confined to the ground. If they encountered enemies with flight capabilities, they would be in a relatively passive position.

Sai Ke thought for a moment and said in a low voice, “Don’t forget what the Instructor said. The Starfire Warriors are specifically trained to counter these non-human monsters… The single-shot beam rounds equipped on our Repeating Shotguns have a range equal to the Demonic Lizardmen’s red-light lightning. This means that even in a field encounter, we can use our personal weapons to form a temporary anti-air formation!”

Santas and Bale exchanged a look, realization dawning on them. “That’s right! Even though the enemy has Air Superiority, when it comes to a firefight with ranged weapons… we have Magicalized Armor that can withstand several red-light attacks, while they only have a thin husk of skin!”

“But… what if we run out of energy for our personal beam weapons during a long-range mission?”

Sai Ke narrowed his eyes, a rare ferocious expression on his face. “Of course, we use natural cover to lure them down to the ground… Don’t forget the close-quarters combat skills we’ve practiced day and night, and the Chainswords that can easily saw through steel armor.”

Close-quarters combat with the winged species of the Demonic Lizardmen… it sounded exactly like the ultimate hypothetical enemy they had been training against all this time.

Santas was eager to try and couldn’t help but egg them on, “Why don’t… why don’t we secretly wake one of the winged species and test our skills against it?”

Bale jumped in fright. “Are you serious? Think of the commotion that would cause! And what if the four of us can’t handle it, and it escapes? Even losing our heads wouldn’t be enough to pay for it!”

Santas shook his head, a look of contempt on his face. “Have you got so little confidence in your own abilities? You’re failing to live up to the high hopes His Majesty has for us! If the four of us can’t even defeat one drugged winged species, what right do we have to be Starfire Warriors? Wouldn’t it be better to just go home and be a farmer!”

His words, half-mocking and half-goading, stung the pride of the other three and stirred the restless thoughts they already harbored.

Just waking up one winged species, getting a feel for fighting it, and testing the results of their long training… It probably wouldn’t cause any major trouble.

Just as the four of them climbed out of their Magicalized Armor and split up to search the medicine cabinets along the wall by the cages for the revival injections, the door to the underground detention chamber, which had been left ajar, was suddenly pushed open from the outside with a clatter.

A somewhat familiar Bloodline Warrior from the Spec Ops squad led a few team members in, his face grim. It was Sir Spider, who had served as their training partner before.

The four of them paled instantly. They wanted to flee for their lives, but there was nowhere to hide. Not to mention, they had brought their Magicalized Armor, which now sat in the most conspicuous spot in the chamber.

“You audacious dogs! Daring to sneak into a cell for non-human prisoners, and with Magicalized Armor!”

Before Sir Spider could speak, the other team members began to rebuke them loudly, pulling explosive bolt guns from their backs and looking ready to load them at any moment.

The few alchemical beast guards that had been standing silently against the wall suddenly sprang into action, stomping forward and slamming the four of them to the ground.

Chapter 719: The Meaning of a “Natural Enemy”

Santas struggled for a moment, feeling as if his arm was about to be snapped by the alchemical beast’s unforgiving iron grip. He quickly begged for mercy, “Sir Spider, we were wrong! We just wanted to sneak in and see a live winged species for ourselves… We had absolutely no intention of breaking the rules or causing trouble!”

“Nonsense!” Spider snorted, pointing a finger at the several eyeball-like crystal devices on the ceiling of the cell. “Lift your dog heads and look. These surveillance devices aren’t just for show… Every word and action since you entered has been recorded and transmitted directly to my monitoring room.”

He paused, a strange, mocking smile on his face. “You didn’t really think a critical location for holding non-human prisoners would be guarded by just a few alchemical beasts, did you?”

Seeing the four men pinned to the floor, heads bowed in submission, the corners of Spider’s mouth suddenly curled upward as an interesting idea popped into his head.

“According to military regulations, you have committed a serious breach of discipline. Not only will you face at least ten days of punishment confinement, but you might even be expelled from the Starfire Warriors. You might not even be able to keep your status as professional soldiers.”

Expelled? And we might not even be able to remain professional soldiers…

Sai Ke felt his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. So this was the “‘fishing’ operation” the instructors were always talking about. To have such terrible luck and fall right into one… the regret was overwhelming.

Who would have thought that Sir Spider would pause and suddenly change his tone. “However… given that you’ve only trespassed and haven’t caused any real trouble yet, perhaps I could try to plead your case with the military law officer.”

The four men instantly felt as if they had grasped their last hope, looking up in disbelief.

“Really? Sir Spider… if you can keep us from being expelled, we’ll do anything you ask. We’re willing to accept any punishment!”

Spider nodded and gave his men a knowing look, then said softly, “It’s simple. Put on your Demon Armor and try to defeat an awakened winged species in close-quarters combat.”

Sai Ke froze.

This… Wasn’t this exactly what they had snuck in to try in the first place?

…

“We… we really just have to take down one winged species to… avoid being expelled?”

Sai Ke found it hard to believe. Listening to Sir Spider… would doing this really not cause even bigger problems?

Spider nodded impatiently, chuckling. “The Spec Ops squad has partial authority in dealing with these prisoners. We occasionally commandeer a few for the combat training of Bloodline Warrior cadets. I’m just giving a few of those slots to you… But no one can take the blame for you trespassing in the containment cells. I’m only promising to plead your case… You won’t escape a single day of the confinement you deserve.”

He paused, staring at Sai Ke with keen interest for a a few moments before continuing, “I just want to see… how the guy who got the better of Iron Head performs when faced with a real non-human monster…”

Sai Ke instantly understood. So Sir Spider was still fixated on the fact that he had managed to elbow Major Iron Head so hard he leaked engine oil.

But now that he had his hands on his only hope, there was no reason to just give up.

The four men scrambled awkwardly to their feet, returned to their towering suits of Demon Armor, and began their pre-combat warm-ups.

“Sir Spider… are we fighting them in here?”

“Where else? You want to fight a flying winged species outdoors? At least in here you have a ceiling. It’ll keep you from being sitting ducks when you don’t have ranged weapons.”

After ordering a team member to fetch the awakening potion, they unceremoniously dragged a winged species from its iron cage and roughly jabbed a metal syringe into the red sac behind its ear.

“It will take a few minutes for the potion to take effect. Don’t worry… if I see any of you screw up, I’ll immediately put the target down to ensure everyone’s safety. But… that would also mean you failed the fight.”

Spider said no more. He pointed a finger at Sai Ke and urged him on, “You’re up first… Don’t disappoint me. Put on a good show.”

Sai Ke watched the winged species’ body tremble slightly as it lay on the floor, seemingly on the verge of waking up. He took a deep breath, nodded to his three teammates, and strode forward.

…

The seconds ticked by. The limp body of the winged species on the floor suddenly convulsed, and then it immediately raised its featureless head high.

Seemingly scanning its surroundings through the deep red crystal armor on its face, the creature then unfolded the fleshy wings that were curled up on its back, attempting to fly into the air before looking for a chance to escape.

It hadn’t chosen to immediately attack the enemies present… which demonstrated that these low-level Evolved ones of the Demonic Lizardmen also possessed considerable intelligence and reasoning ability.

Of course, Sai Ke wouldn’t give his opponent the chance. Once it beat its wings and reached the ceiling, he would have to repeatedly leap high into the air just to attack it. That would undoubtedly put him in an extremely passive position.

He made a split-second decision and charged forward, drawing the chainsword from his waist. He activated it with the surging power running through the Demon Armor. The sharp, perfectly cut serrated teeth on the blade immediately began to spin at high speed, driven by the power unit, emitting a piercing, grating “zzzz” sound that set one’s teeth on edge.

Just as the winged species powerfully flapped its wings, its feet barely leaving the ground, Sai Ke rushed forward, leaped high, and brought the longsword down with both hands.

Unsurprisingly… the winged species, whose movements were clearly more agile, dodged the seemingly unstoppable strike with a simple twist and a diagonal flit in mid-air. It then raised a hand, and a blast of red light shot out, striking Sai Ke in the chest at near point-blank range. The close-range energy explosion immediately sent him flying.

Fortunately, Sai Ke’s control over his Demon Armor was already second nature. He twisted his wrist, plunged his chainsword into the ground to stabilize himself with his feet, and after briefly creating some distance, he lunged forward again.

All the onlookers understood his intention: to tie the enemy down and give it no chance to fly into the air and counter-attack.

Another blast of red light grazed past Sai Ke’s ribs. The thick, sturdy Magicalized Armor nullified most of the damage from the energy impact. As long as the spinal nerve interface on his back wasn’t hit, he could withstand several direct hits of red light from the front.

After a close-quarters grappling move missed, Sai Ke lowered his stance slightly, twisted at the waist, and swung his sword in a horizontal arc. The high-speed rotating blade shot straight for the winged species’ slender legs.

It had to be said, this giant bat-like monster was utterly frustrating.

Despite having almost no way to resist in close-quarters combat, it relied on its agile wings to dodge and weave, nimbly avoiding several of Sai Ke’s attacks while finding openings to retaliate with blasts of red light.

If not for the restrictions of the enclosed space, had this fight broken out outdoors… Sai Ke, without any ranged weapons, would have likely been treated as a sitting duck.

Chapter 720: Punishment Mission

After a few clashes in under a minute, the winged species seemed to have located the cell’s only exit… and standing guard there were just a few ordinary, albeit slightly well-built, humans.

Though they too held weapons, they looked far easier to deal with than the relentless “tin can” in front of it.

The non-human, its desire to escape already outweighing its will to fight, became desperate to break free from Sai Ke’s entanglement. It flung two jets of red light to force him back temporarily, then recklessly flapped its wings and charged straight for the cell door.

Sai Ke immediately knew something was wrong… The creature was trying to get past him and charge at Sir Spider and his men. That would force the Bloodline Warriors to open fire. If the target was killed by them, it would mean his challenge was a failure, and that would be disastrous!

Though he was starting to panic, Sai Ke’s mind was still clear. After dodging the first red light, he unhesitatingly gave chase. He dipped his shoulder again, using his heavy pauldron to tank the blast from the second red light.

The violent blast sent him into a hard tumble. As he hit the ground, the chainsword flew from his right hand, and he used the momentum to fling it like a javelin straight at the enemy.

Pfft—

A wet thud echoed as the blade pierced its husk. Sai Ke scrambled to his feet, closing the distance to the winged species in a few quick strides. He slammed a heavy foot onto the creature, pinning it down, then grabbed the hilt of the chainsword that skewered it to the floor and performed a clean, circular cut…

A mess of reddish-black fluids and viscera spilled across the floor, rapidly decaying upon contact with the air… Only the thick stench of rust and blood lingered, refusing to dissipate.

Sai Ke flicked the filth from his sword and lifted his helmet’s faceplate, revealing a face flushed red.

“Sir Spider… D-did I pass?”

The winged species he had fought seemed to have little will to fight, looking for any opportunity to escape. This only made Sai Ke’s performance in the short, minutes-long battle seem all the more clumsy and reactive. In the end, he only managed a difficult kill by attacking its back.

The Starfire Warriors, in whom His Majesty had placed such high hopes, and the Magicalized Armor developed specifically to counter the Demonic Lizardmen… Sai Ke’s disastrous performance made it all seem like a joke.

Just then, the cell’s iron door was flung open from the outside. Instructor Dean hurried in with more men, his face as dark as an impending volcanic eruption as he glared at the four of them.

“You bastards! Get out of that Demon Armor, now!” Even in front of his Spec Ops squad colleagues, Dean couldn’t stop himself from exploding. “Who gave you the damn nerve to suit up in Demon Armor and wander around the Barracks without permission? And to sneak into the cell of a non-human prisoner on top of that?”

But Spider, who had been needling the four of them moments before, suddenly broke into a grin and began to intercede. “Dean, according to the military code, suiting up in Demon Armor within the Barracks isn’t technically a violation, as long as you’re not carrying magical energy weapons… Heh, after all, the regulations only forbid leaving the Military Barracks and entering the city.”

Dean froze. He could tell from his old colleague’s teasing expression that he didn’t intend to press the issue… and he couldn’t help but breathe a secret sigh of relief.

Regardless, Sai Ke and his men were the first batch of Starfire Warriors to pass the tests and receive dedicated training. If the Spec Ops squad responsible for monitoring the cells decided to press charges, they could easily be convicted of the serious crime of trespassing in a restricted zone. If that happened, the Military Law Department would have to act by-the-book and expel them.

Fortunately, while these high-rank Bloodline Warriors in the Spec Ops squad were openly and secretly jealous of the Emperor’s favor toward the Starfire Warriors, they hadn’t picked up the nasty habit of infighting from the noble politicians. They had no intention of using this incident to kick the young soldiers while they were down.

Ultimately… this was all caused by the arrogance of Sai Ke and the other three.

The more Dean thought about it, the angrier he became. He looked up and saw the blood-stained chainsword on Sai Ke’s Demon Armor, then caught Spider’s amused expression out of the corner of his eye. His mind raced, and he instantly understood what had just taken place.

“You were just in close-quarters combat with a winged species?”

Sai Ke’s face turned red, and he stammered, “Instructor, y-yes… It was conducted under the authorization of Sir Spider, to assess our performance when facing a real enemy… that’s why…”

Most Bloodline Warriors in the Special Operations Independent Regiment also served as combat and physical training instructors for the Northern Army. They were authorized to conduct spot assessments on any soldier within the barracks at any time… so on that front, there was no fault to be found.

But Dean knew exactly what Spider was up to. He clearly wanted to see this bunch of raw recruits with no real combat experience make fools of themselves—and they had walked right into it.

If he hadn’t gotten word and arrived in time, rumors that the Starfire Warriors couldn’t even handle a single drugged Demonic Lizardman prisoner would have started spreading through the army. When that happened, the confidence and morale of most soldiers joining the Starfire Corps would take a serious blow.

“Are you that eager to fight the non-human races?”

Sai Ke was stunned for a moment, then a sudden surge of courage came from somewhere, and he nodded without the slightest hesitation. “Yes, Sir… I joined the army to avenge my fallen kinsmen. Becoming a Starfire Warrior means I can fight on the front lines and make those despicable non-human races pay a blood debt in blood!”

He paused, then suddenly began to eloquently defend himself and his companions, “We undergo harsh training every day, but… but we’ve never truly faced these non-human enemies. We can’t gain experience from real combat. This is the main reason why we always lacked confidence in ourselves and finally couldn’t resist sneaking in here to test our abilities.”

Spider suddenly began clapping, a rare look of appreciation on his face. He laughed and said, “Although your performance was clumsy, your thinking is correct… Dean, I also think the Starfire Warriors do need to gain combat experience from real battles. Keeping them cooped up in the training base to reinvent the wheel won’t be much help. Weren’t we also forged on the front lines between life and death?”

Dean couldn’t argue with that. It was just that the number of Starfire Warriors who passed the tests was far too low, and integrating the Demon Armor with a beast spirit was incredibly difficult… Besides, His Majesty had no intention of rushing their training just to send them to the front lines sooner.

Spider seemed to have guessed Dean’s concerns. He chuckled and suggested, “His Majesty probably isn’t planning to send them to the ice sea front to fight the Demonic Lizardmen right away because he knows they lack combat experience… Isn’t this the perfect opportunity? The Special Operations Independent Regiment has a batch of new recruits who just received the bloodline gift. They need to go on a field training exercise in the Great Bear Lake area to clear out the vile orc tribes that have made a comeback there.”

As he spoke, he gestured with his eyes toward Sai Ke and the other three. “After all, they broke the rules and trespassed in a restricted area. Why not have them go out on the field training exercise with the Spec Ops squad’s new recruits after their ten days of confinement are up? You can count it as a form of punishment.”

Sudden Business Trip, Taking a Day Off!

Sudden Business Trip, Taking a Day Off!

I was notified of another business trip today, so I have no choice but to take another day off…

It’s almost the summer vacation enrollment season, and those of us slaving away in the education and training industry are much busier than usual. My sincere apologies!

Chapter 721: Confinement

In the end, Sai Ke and the other three were escorted back to the Starfire Warriors’ training base by the Military Law Department’s Military Police.

As for the other three, they never got a chance to fight the winged species up close… Instructor Dean clearly didn’t want to lose any more face in front of the Spec Ops squad and had no expectations for Santas and the others’ combat experience.

As dusk approached, soldiers on leave an masse returned to the Barracks before curfew, just in time to see their four Captains bound and trussed up, along with the Magicalized Armor being towed back by an alchemical wheeled vehicle.

“It’s Captain Sai Ke and the others! What’s going on?”

“Military Police? What kind of serious trouble did the Captains get into to bring out these hyenas from the military?”

“Quiet! Don’t shout like that. If those guys hear you, there’s no telling what kind of trouble you’ll be in…”

With a grim expression, Instructor Dean shooed away the crowd of onlooking Starfire Warriors and personally escorted the four down to the brig located in the base’s subterranean level.

“I don’t want to know what got into your heads to make you pull such an audacious stunt…” Dean’s voice was heavy with suppressed rage. “But I hope you haven’t completely forgotten that a soldier’s duty is to obey orders unconditionally. Since you’ve violated the regulations… you’ll stay here and reflect, and think long and hard about what it is you’re fighting for.”

With that, he shook his head and turned to leave without hesitation.

The four men were shoved by the Military Police into separate, cramped rooms, each only a few square meters in size and furnished with nothing more than a simple iron-frame bed and a chamber pot.

As the heavy iron gate of the brig slammed shut with a boom, the entire underground level fell into a deathly silence, lit only by the faint glow of a few magic stone lamps on the ceiling of the corridor outside the rooms.

The iron doors of their cells had small food-delivery hatches, which now became the only way for the four of them to lean in and encourage one another.

Santas heaved a sigh and said guiltily, “It was all me and Gregor, coming up with that terrible idea! We almost got us kicked out of the army… good thing the sirs don’t plan to pursue it to the end. It’s terrifying to think about otherwise.”

Bale grunted in agreement and offered some comfort. “It was a decision we all made together. You can’t blame anyone… Sai Ke and I couldn’t resist the temptation either. After all, who wouldn’t want to see a living Demonic Lizardman Evolved one with their own eyes?”

On the way back, the Military Police from the Military Law Department had kindly explained the situation to these troublemakers—because they were reserve soldiers, trespassing in a cell holding an ordinary prisoner of war wasn’t an unforgivable felony. It all depended on how much of a commotion they caused and whether the officer in charge of the area decided to press the matter.

Therefore, the punishments they would face would, at most, be a long period of confinement, a hefty salary deduction or demotion, or the stripping of their military merits. Painful, but not life-threatening.

But if they had broken into a place like a weapons Laboratory or a military magical energy technology center, which were strictly off-limits under confidentiality regulations, without permission, the consequences would have been unimaginable… Regardless of whether they were carrying lethal weapons, they could have been shot on the spot, without even a chance to stand before a military tribunal.

Of course, after this incident, Sai Ke and the others wouldn’t dare attempt such a risky stunt again, not even if they had ten thousand times the nerve.

After a round of self-criticism filled with sighs and chatter, Bale suddenly remembered something. He raised his hand and knocked on the iron doorframe of the brig, calling out to the silent Sai Ke.

“Hey! Sai Ke! Tell us what it was like fighting the winged species! How strong was that thing? How does it compare to the sirs from the Spec Ops squad?”

Sai Ke snapped back to his senses and let out a soft laugh. “Compare them to the sirs from the Spec Ops squad? Not even close… Their only advantages against us are their mastery of flight and their agility. They’re like… like a big flying eel, disgustingly slippery.”

If he hadn’t been without a ranged weapon, he wouldn’t have been stuck in such a pathetic tangle with it for several minutes. The fight would have been decided in the first exchange.

After all, the Magicalized Armor could withstand several direct hits from red-light lightning. And in the face of the Chainsword, a single-shot Beam Weapon, or a Repeating Shotgun, the magic-resistant hide of a Winged one was no different from cardboard.

His Majesty had been right. The Starfire Warriors were indeed specially trained to counter these non-human enemies… but that was only when their equipment was in a complete state, and used in coordination with their innate talent of fusing with a beast spirit.

In those few short minutes of fighting the winged species, Sai Ke, in his panic and haste, had completely forgotten about this. He had only subconsciously relied on the sheer defensive power of his Demon Armor and the sharpness of his Chainsword to launch one reckless attack after another…

“So… Sir Spider and Instructor Dean were right. What we lack most right now is real combat ability!”

“Exactly. Even you were fumbling while fighting the winged species. If the three of us had gone up, who knows what kind of fools we would have made of ourselves…”

At this thought, Sai Ke excitedly banged his head against the cell window and spoke to his companions. “So you see… sending us out with the newly advanced Bloodline Warriors of the Spec Ops squad for a field training exercise to carry out a cleanup mission isn’t a punishment at all… It’s Sir Spider’s way of helping us gain real combat experience!”

Although the Spec Ops Independent Regiment seemed to be at odds with the Starfire Corps at every turn, those high-rank Bloodline Warrior sirs from the Spec Ops squad had actually, openly and secretly, given them rookies a lot of help. Though they were harsh and unforgiving with their words, they were actually pushing them to grow up quickly.

After all, in the future, they would have to join hands and stand shoulder to shoulder against powerful and terrifying non-human enemies.

…

The men discussed this excitedly for a while longer, until the brig’s main gate was opened from the outside once more. The guard on duty pushed a food cart in, its wheels squeaking.

Even though they were in confinement, there were no signs of them being mistreated or having their food rations cut… a thick stack of buttered flatbread, a fragrant, pan-fried pork chop, and fresh boiled eggs and vegetables.

The daily training intensity of the Starfire Warriors was extremely high, and the soul fusion process was incredibly draining. Logistics naturally spared no effort when it came to their diet, coming up with all sorts of varieties to ensure a balanced diet.

As the fully loaded tray was handed over, Sai Ke finally couldn’t hold back and asked in a low voice, “Sir… besides the ten days of confinement, will we receive any other punishments?”

The Military Police guard rolled his eyes and sneered, “Don’t get your hopes up. Other than not being directly discharged or sent to a military tribunal, you’ll be getting every single other punishment. You’ve hit the grand slam.”

The… the grand slam?

Bale’s voice trembled. “What grand slam?”

“After the confinement, your salaries will be docked for three months, and you’ll be barred from advancement for the next six months. Oh… and your direct superior added an extra one: copy the military discipline regulations one hundred times.”

“What?” Bale let out a bloodcurdling scream.

Santas put his mouth to the window and said disdainfully, “Why are you Rootless People so stingy? It’s just three months’ salary. You’re acting like it’s the end of the world.”

“What do you know? I promised I’d buy my little sister a new bicycle once I saved up enough money!”

“A new bicycle only costs half a month’s salary. You’ve been here for so long, haven’t you saved enough yet?”

Sai Ke shook his head helplessly and leaned toward the window to explain on Bale’s behalf. “He has five little sisters!”

Chapter 722: Words of Experience

As expected, early the next morning, Harvey heard about the “glorious deeds” of the four Starfire Warrior squad leaders from the deputy captain of his personal guard, Iron Head, during breakfast.

Upon learning of their incredibly bold rule-breaking actions, Harvey didn’t show any dissatisfaction or anger. Instead, he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Don’t they know that the captured prisoners have all been injected with large doses of anesthetic potion and that their actual combat abilities have been greatly diminished?”

Iron Head couldn’t help but chuckle before shaking his head. “Your Majesty, it’s because back then, you gave them… what was the phrase? Oh, right! You got them too pumped up! That’s what made these green new recruits overestimate their own strength. They really started to think they were hot stuff.”

The fusion of Magicalized Armor and beast spirits was indeed Starfire City’s most advanced military technology at present. But the premise was that this “sharp blade,” which could act as a trump card to carry out decapitation strikes on future battlefields, had to be in the hands of qualified warriors who were a match for it.

After being pushed into the Demon Armor unprepared, a group of rookies from ordinary backgrounds with less than half a year of basic training were, in the short term, like toddlers swinging heavy hammers. Not only could they not unleash the full power of the Demon Armor and beast spirits, but sometimes it could even be counterproductive.

This was the main reason why Harvey didn’t plan to send them to the battlefield immediately after they completed their intensive training.

Harvey took a sip of his warm milk and said calmly, “It’s not easy to select candidates suitable for soul fusion from nearly ten thousand new recruits. Expelling them so easily would be a loss… but we can’t condone this. Don’t hold back on the punishment they deserve. We need to let these young men know that Starfire Warriors must also strictly adhere to military discipline. Their special status doesn’t grant them the privilege of exemption.”

After all, these hot-headed kids didn’t have bad intentions. It was purely out of curiosity about their future enemies and a desire for strength and battle. A proper, heavy-handed lesson was all that’s needed to reinforce their discipline.

At this thought, Harvey suddenly became curious about the bare-handed fight that broke out in the detention cell. He changed the subject and asked, “How did that warrior named Sai Ke perform in his fight against the winged species?”

“A complete mess… Your Majesty, Spider originally wanted them to fight bare-handed, but in the end, he went easy on him and let him use his Chainsword. Even so, it still took him a good three or four minutes to kill the opponent—who had no will to fight and only wanted to break out and escape—by throwing his sword in a sneak attack from behind.”

Harvey wasn’t surprised by this result at all. He nodded and said, “That’s perfectly normal. Without being equipped with a ranged Beam Weapon, fighting on the ground, you’re naturally at a disadvantage against an enemy with flight capabilities. In a pinch, throwing a sword as a projectile to kill the enemy can be considered a sign of quick thinking.”

After all, on a real battlefield in the future, the terrain and environment would be a hundred times more complex. Swords could break, and ranged weapons could run out of ammunition. They had to learn to make good use of all available resources and use every means necessary to defeat the enemy in critical moments.

“But the problem isn’t entirely due to a lack of combat experience…” Iron Head pondered cautiously for a moment before pointing out the problem he had noticed. “Your Majesty, the combat and marksmanship training these Starfire Warriors are currently receiving is, after all, the same regimen the Northern Army uses to train ordinary soldiers. Whether it’s close-quarters combat or target practice, it’s all done by the book, strictly following the training manuals.”

As a result, they could only rely on their own trial and error to learn how to control the Demon Armor and fuse with the beast spirits. They had no existing experience to draw upon… After all, they were the first batch of Starfire Warriors, and besides themselves, there was no one else who could give them advice in this area.

“So you think it’s too formulaic and rigid?”

“Yes… I believe that putting them into real combat as soon as possible, even if it’s just starting with the weaker vile orcs and letting them accumulate combat experience bit by bit, is the only way for them to undergo a true rebirth.”

No matter how you looked at it, rigid, by-the-book training day after day, other than standardizing their combat moves and gradually improving their marksmanship, could never compare to the authentic feedback of actually cutting through an enemy’s flesh and blood on the battlefield. Nor would they ever experience the gut-punching impact of close-quarters combat or the adrenaline rush of a life-or-death struggle.

In this regard, the Bloodline Warriors, who automatically mastered combat skills through their awakened talents, had the most right to speak.

Harvey thought for a moment, then nodded. “Good point. The Bloodline Warriors are clearly more experienced in this area. Do as you suggest. Arrange for these men to be deployed in batches and mix them into the Spec Ops Independent Regiment to participate in the vile orc extermination missions.”

…

After finishing his breakfast, Harvey returned to his second-floor office as usual and began to handle the increasingly heavy administrative affairs.

The Captain of the personal guard, Tommy, seized the opportunity to come in and announced in a low voice, “Your Majesty, Director of the Construction Department, Mr. Haru, requests an audience… He arrived early this morning.”

Harvey put down the document he had just picked up. “Let him in…”

The moment his words fell, Haru, who had been waiting at the door, walked in right on cue. He bowed respectfully. “Your Majesty, the second phase of the Starfire Tower project, located behind the New Federation building, was successfully completed yesterday.”

“Oh? So soon? Last month, weren’t you complaining about the slow progress of the interior work?”

Haru scratched his head, a little embarrassed, and chuckled sheepishly. “That was because spring planting had just ended, and there was a gap in the recruitment of temporary labor… But fortunately, the Treasury Department recently issued an ordinance to raise wages. Working day and night, we finally caught up. We even finished a good half a month ahead of the original deadline…”

The Starfire Tower project, from its beginning as a rough sketch drawn by Harvey to the successful completion of the two buildings now, had actually taken less than ten months. By the construction standards of his previous life, this was an entirely unremarkable achievement. But in the current environment of a world dominated by magic, it was nothing short of a miracle.

Even though the cost in money and materials was immense, Harvey couldn’t find anything to complain about.

These three buildings, arranged in a pyramid formation—these “skyscrapers,” a hundred meters tall and sixteen stories high—would serve as the landmark buildings of the capital, Starfire City, in the future. Compared to the surrounding concrete buildings, which were generally only three or four stories high, they would be visible at a glance to any newcomer. Through them, people would perceive the formidable strength of this northern stronghold, far surpassing other nations, as well as the prosperous spectacle bestowed by magical energy technology.

“I won’t attend the completion ceremony. Notify the Municipal Department to inspect and accept it as soon as possible… According to the original plan, give priority to the families of fallen soldiers to move in.”

Rather than treating it as a “vanity project” to simply stand in the city for show, what Harvey truly wanted to demonstrate was the significance these buildings held. This was also the issue the public cared about most.

For whom was it built? And who was qualified to live in it?

The answer was simple… The people.

Or rather… the heroes who had made outstanding contributions and selfless sacrifices for humanity to live and work in peace and prosperity.

Chapter 723: Turmoil on the Border

The border of Isengard, Wolf Fang Ridge.

As one of the three major pass cities on the southwestern frontier of the Cavalry Kingdom, Wolf Fang Ridge was much quieter than the other two… The main reason was St. Valen’s ban on the public sale of people. Slave and mineral traders from Isengard could only detour through Da’ers, thereby avoiding their slave convoys entering St. Valen territory and incurring taxes and exploitation from the royalty and nobles along the way.

But ever since those non-human monsters invaded from the Great Rift of the Spine of the Gods Mountains, slaughtering and rampaging across the northern part of the Isengard Kingdom, people fleeing south had begun to gather along the border. They had transformed this once-deserted frontier city into a bustling, clamorous place.

Every day, large numbers of people fleeing from the areas around Highland City and Steelrock City would arrive with their families in tow, driving their beasts of burden and pulling wheeled vehicles. The well-off could rent a simple stone house in the city for temporary shelter, while the relatively poor common folk could mostly only encamp outside the city, setting up simple tents to live in.

In just a few short months, from early spring to the height of summer, nearly one hundred thousand people had gathered in Wolf Fang Ridge and the surrounding border towns. Local grain prices had multiplied several times over.

Despite the constant risk of starvation from being unable to afford the high-priced grain, the people who had fled thousands of miles to this place had no intention of returning. If they went hungry, they could still try to forage for food in the surrounding forests and mountains. But to leave the border region and head back north… that meant risking running into the non-human race slowly advancing southward, which was a death sentence.

The army from the neighboring kingdom of St. Valen, stationed at Wolf Fang Ridge, was the last straw these refugees had to grasp if they wanted to live. If the non-human race truly fought their way to the border, regardless of whether these Valen people were willing to intervene, at least staying under their noses for now offered some peace of mind.

Rumor had it that the St. Valen Emperor’s magical army had already defeated those fearsome non-human enemies several times deep in the barren lands north of the Spine of the Gods Mountains. It was thought they could easily defend against the monsters that had invaded Isengard.

…

Wood nervously wrung his hands, looking at the horse trader before him with a hopeful expression. “Rest assured, this horse is very sturdy and has never been sick. You can tell just by looking at its coat and teeth…”

The horse trader, however, pursed his lips and shook his head, dissatisfied. “This is a Highland draft horse from the north, and it is indeed well-raised… but it’s not my first choice. It’s a bit old, and it eats too much.”

Wood was stunned for a moment, then said urgently, “Please reconsider! You would only need to take one child…”

Seeing the horse trader remained unmoved, he quickly added, “If you agree, I… I’m willing to throw in the harness and the wheeled vehicle as well.”

Before the other man could reply, a boy of thirteen or fourteen suddenly tugged on Wood’s sleeve and whispered, “Uncle, maybe we shouldn’t sell Old Graythorn? He looks so pitiful!”

Wood frowned and whispered back, “If I don’t sell the horse, how can I pay to get you across the border? Small roving bands of the non-human race have already started appearing near Highland City. It won’t be long before they reach the border area. When that happens, even hiding in the Wolf Fang Ridge fortress won’t save us… Those monsters kill on sight, leaving no survivors.”

Although Wolf Fang Ridge was currently under the defacto control of the Valen people, they seemed to have no intention of fully opening the border to accept refugees from Isengard. Instead, they had propped up a local minor noble from Wolf Fang Ridge to temporarily manage the pass city for them. Only a few merchant guild caravans with travel permits were allowed to pass after strict inspections.

As a result, many people had begun trying to use their connections with the caravans, bribing merchants and finding ways to bluff their way across… After all, only within St. Valen’s borders could they be considered truly safe.

The horse trader Wood had approached was a merchant from Da’ers who held a travel permit. Taking a child along wasn’t a huge risk, and the price he had demanded was Wood’s last remaining old draft horse.

In that moment of hesitation, the horse trader shrugged and walked away, moving to the other side to inspect two other horses for sale. Times had changed. The Cavalry Kingdom was indeed renowned for its fine horses, but with everyone desperate to sell as quickly as possible, all for a chance to cross with a merchant caravan, supply was plentiful.

The old draft horse snorted, as if happy to have escaped its fate. The boy who had just stopped Wood from selling him also patted the horse’s neck and said stubbornly, “Uncle, why do you have to send me across? If you’re not coming with me, I’m not going anywhere!”

When they fled Steelrock City, their once-complete family had been reduced to just uncle and nephew, and a sturdy draft horse he had raised since it was a foal. It was thanks to the horse that the two of them had been able to travel south in their wheeled vehicle, reaching the border region without too much hardship.

“We’re running low on rations and money. It’s better for one of us to live than for both of us to wait here to die.” Wood glanced around uneasily and whispered in the boy’s ear, “Once the border runs out of food and famine breaks out, the two of us won’t be able to protect Old Graythorn. Those starving people will steal him, slaughter him, and eat him.”

The boy couldn’t help but shiver. “Let’s find a way to go together! With Old Graythorn…”

“We can’t get through the strategic pass without a permit. Those Valen people will stop us. Detouring through the mountains is too dangerous. Even if you’re lucky enough not to be eaten by wild beasts or fall off a cliff… if you get caught by a border patrol, you most likely won’t survive.”

Wood suddenly recalled the various rumors he had heard about St. Valen on their journey. He paused before continuing in a low voice, “I heard… that St. Valen’s new Emperor is… is a wizard. He despises the Church and has even passed laws to ban the worship of gods. They probably won’t be willing to accept believers like us.”

As he spoke, he rolled up his right sleeve, revealing a conspicuous sun emblem tattoo on his wrist. This was the baptismal mark branded only on the devout believers of the Church, a very common sight in Isengard.

His nephew, Jacob, was supposed to have been baptized and given the emblem at the age of twelve. But as it happened, Wood’s brother had offended the high priest of their parish around that time, and the priest delayed the matter as a form of punishment. Unexpectedly, this now became Jacob’s greatest hope for survival.

Without the tattoo of a devout follower, it would be easier for him to blend in with a merchant caravan, cross the border pass, and start a new life in St. Valen.

As the uncle and nephew were discussing this in hushed tones, a low humming sound suddenly came from above.

The large crowd packed into the marketplace looked up. They saw that, at some point, hundreds, even thousands, of strange objects resembling sailing ships had appeared in the sky. They were slowly gaining altitude, passing over the refugee settlement at Wolf Fang Ridge, before speeding off to the north.

“What are those? Sailing ships that can fly?”

“My heavens! There are so many of them they’re blocking out the daylight!”

“I know! That’s… that’s His Majesty the Emperor of St. Valen’s magical army! Are they heading north to fight those non-human monsters?”

Chapter 724: Opening the Pass

The crowd gathered near the pass raised their heads, watching the Emperor’s magical airship fly north until it was out of sight.

At the same time, several alchemical loudspeakers, mounted high on the corner towers of the Wolf Fang Ridge fortress, began to blare.

This unusual sound immediately caught the crowd’s attention. Many who had just finished trading for grain or selling their belongings in the city stopped in their tracks, halting their return to the settlements outside the walls. They began to discuss amongst themselves, a sense of unease spreading through them.

The heavy gates of the pass slowly swung open. Clad in black military uniforms, soldiers of St. Valen marched in neat formations into the city of Wolf Fang Ridge, long rifles slung over their backs.

The people lining the streets parted like a tide, leaving ample room for the soldiers to pass… Everyone subconsciously lowered their heads, occasionally glancing up to steal a furtive look, holding their breath as they awaited the army’s next move.

The once boisterous city market was now utterly silent.

Wood gripped Jacob’s hand tightly, leading their only remaining possession—the old draft horse, Graythorn, and an empty, flatbed wooden cart—as they carefully stood aside.

A wheeled vehicle with a metallic sheen moved on its own, without any horse or ox to pull it, rumbling behind the soldiers… Seated inside were several men who looked like officers of St. Valen. The one in the lead had his hands on a circular plate, which he turned slightly from side to side.

This thing had to be another magical construct! Just like those floating sailboats that had just crossed the sky—all miracles created by that Magic Emperor of St. Valen!

As the army and the wheeled vehicles drew closer, the fluttering banners and the emblems etched onto the vehicles became clear: on a deep black background was the silver-gray silhouette of a castle, encircled by a crossed spear and a golden star… This was the signature emblem of the United Kingdom of St. Valen and the Northern Realm, identical to the ones hanging high in Wolf Fang Ridge, all representing the power and authority of this new kingdom.

Jacob leaned close to his uncle’s ear and whispered, “What a display… Uncle, do you think the Emperor of St. Valen is here?”

Wood swallowed nervously and shook his head. “Why would the Emperor come to the border? But something big is definitely happening!”

The formidable army soon reached its destination near the city’s only Bell Tower Square. The soldiers silently spread out, using their long rifles to guide the crowd to the periphery, clearing out the most prominent spot in the center of the square.

A few of the wheeled vehicles also came to a stop, and their occupants quickly began to assemble a simple wooden platform.

By the time the alchemical communicators and metal loudspeakers were also erected, the local minor noble who was temporarily administering Wolf Fang Ridge on behalf of St. Valen finally received the news and rushed to meet the leader of this army.

“Ah! Sir Callum! Why… why didn’t you inform me in advance? Is there some major announcement to be made?”

Callum glanced at the obsequious minor noble and said flatly, “Mmm… This is Police Superintendent Max Anton of the capital’s Police Department, and Mr. Dave, the deputy director of the Kingdom’s Population Management Department. They’ve come this time… to carry out an important matter concerning the border region. I am merely here to assist.”

The minor noble was taken aback. Before he could ask, Dave waved a hand, pulled a thick stack of documents from his briefcase, and held them up. “By order of His Majesty, due to the rampage of non-human races within Isengard, a great number of innocent people have been forced to flee south. In keeping with the tradition of mutual aid among the Human nations, the United Kingdom of St. Valen will, from this day forward, open its border to accept the refugees stranded in the Wolf Fang Ridge area.”

The Emperor of St. Valen intended to fully open the border… to accept the nearly one hundred thousand Isengard refugees amassed in the surrounding area?

The minor noble’s eyes widened in disbelief. It was a long while before he stammered, “Then… what about inside Isengard? Does His Majesty intend to send troops to help us eliminate those northern non-human races?”

The moment the words left his mouth, he realized his mistake… Logically speaking, what did Isengard’s invasion by non-human races have to do with the people of St. Valen? The two nations had only recently clashed over the issue of the Church. It was not even clear if the Isengard royal family had any surviving bloodline or a legitimate heir. There was no basis for requesting military aid.

At this thought, the minor noble immediately changed his tune, forcing a sycophantic smile. “Sir Callum, I was wondering if you… if you had presented my letter pledging fealty to His Majesty, along with the gift I sent? I… do I still have a chance to go to the capital, Starfire City, and express my sincerity to His Majesty in person?”

Callum found it all rather sickening. He gave a look to Max, who was standing to the side. The latter let out a chuckle. “Baron, there’s no need to be anxious. His Majesty is occupied with state affairs and has had no time to reply… However, your administration of Wolf Fang Ridge during this period has been competent enough. While you failed to control the price of grain, the public order in the refugee settlements both inside and outside the city has been quite good. I will, in my subsequent report, submit a joint recommendation with Director Dave. Perhaps it won’t be long… before you can officially become our colleague.”

Baron Peyton was instantly beaming. The rest of his family had fled to other nations via Da’ers, but he had taken a bold gamble. He had sold all his family’s property and land in exchange for enough grain and, with a contingent of his personal guards, had cozied up to the Valen people, managing this border city for them.

He never thought his gamble would actually pay off!

The power of the United Kingdom of St. Valen was plain for all to see. By getting on board this great ship… his future would surely be boundless!

As the news of the border opening was broadcast throughout the city via alchemical communication devices, a large number of soldiers and officials from St. Valen dispersed. They set up tall notice boards in the densely populated refugee settlements and began to repeat their announcements through large loudspeakers.

“To pass through the border gate smoothly, you must strictly adhere to order. First, you queue, then you register… After passing a simple verbal assessment, you will only be allowed through with a travel permit!”

“After crossing the pass into St. Valen territory, you will be received by corresponding government officials. No one is permitted to leave on their own or attempt to abscond. Anyone discovered doing so will be immediately deported and will permanently lose the opportunity to cross!”

“Upon successful arrival in St. Valen, all individuals will receive free food and medical aid. You need not worry about running out of grain and starving. However, you must sign an agreement to voluntarily naturalize and become a legal citizen of St. Valen… Henceforth, all matters of personal safety shall be protected by our nation’s laws.”

“Once you choose to accept St. Valen citizenship, you must immediately renounce your past faith and leave the Church’s registry. Henceforth, proselytizing or spreading your faith within our nation is strictly forbidden. Violators will also be punished according to the relevant laws…”

Standing by a notice board, Wood listened as the young official repeated the announcement until he was hoarse. He could feel sweat beading on his palms and back.

Jacob, meanwhile, clutched his rumbling stomach in embarrassment and asked in a low voice, “Uncle… as long as we voluntarily become citizens of St. Valen, they will give us food. We won’t have to sell Old Graythorn or rely on the merchant guilds. We can both leave this place.”

Wood was stunned. He turned to look at his nephew’s sallow face. The price of grain in the city had been climbing relentlessly, and the rations they had brought with them were long gone. Perhaps they would starve to death before the non-human races from the north even arrived…

To fill their bellies and ensure their survival, all they had to do was renounce their faith and their place in the Church… It did not seem like an entirely unacceptable price to pay.

He forced a bitter smile. “Get Old Graythorn. We’ll go queue up at the pass right away. You never liked going to church as a child anyway… Right now, survival is what matters most!”

Jacob was his brother’s only bloodline. He had to get him to a safe place to start a new life… Compared to some ethereal faith in the gods, family was far more important to Wood!

Chapter 725: An Assignment

“Name and age?”

“Wood, thirty-six… Uh, this boy is Jacob. He just turned fourteen.”

“Where is your hometown? Do you have any other relatives?”

“Steelrock City. There’s… there’s no one left at home. During our escape south, we unfortunately ran into a small, wandering band of non-human monsters. They…”

Wood’s voice trailed off, choking up by the end. He quickly raised a hand to wipe his nose with a filthy sleeve.

The young official before him softened his expression slightly. After a soft grunt, he continued his inquiry, “What did you do for a living before?”

“My brother and I ran a carriage business in Steelrock City. Ah… it wasn’t very large, only three draft horse carriages. We mainly transported goods between Steelrock and Sangmu Fort. It was just a small business.”

The Secretary looked up in some surprise and reappraised Wood. No wonder this man looked so wretched in his tattered clothes, yet carried himself with a certain air and spoke so clearly and articulately… he hadn’t expected him to be a small businessman.

He pulled out an additional registration form and asked probingly, “Can you read and write? Are you a skilled driver?”

“Yes… yes, both,” Wood nodded repeatedly, knowing full well that the more value he showed, the greater their chances—uncle and nephew—of passing the screening and getting through smoothly.

But to his surprise, the official nodded in satisfaction, then raised his hand and beckoned over a middle-aged man dressed as an officer… From his dark, rough face and ferocious appearance with a protruding mouth and tusks, he was clearly a half-orc!

The Secretary and the half-orc officer conferred in low voices for a moment before the Secretary turned back to Wood. “Ordinarily… you and this boy should be assigned to Greentarn County, near the border. You’d become a worker on a state-run farm there, making a living by tending the fields…”

He paused, then changed the subject. “However… there’s an extra assignment available for you to choose right now. If you’re willing, you and the boy can go directly to the capital, Starfire City. Your status will change from a commoner to a semi-government employee, and the boy can be admitted to a public academy to study under professional teachers.”

Entering an academy, studying with teachers… It sounded like a privilege only the children of nobles could enjoy. The rudimentary literacy the two Wood brothers had acquired was from volunteering at a church school daily in their youth, just to listen in on lessons. Compared to most, that alone had been incredibly difficult to achieve.

Such generous and tempting conditions meant the assignment was certainly not simple, and might even be life-threatening.

Wood mumbled for a moment, then said in a low voice, “If I die… this child, living alone in a foreign land, I’m afraid he’ll…”

The half-orc officer chuckled and waved his hand dismissively. “No, we’re not tricking you into going to your death. It’s just a driving job. You’ll be with the army the entire time. I can only promise you this: your safety will not be threatened until every soldier has fallen!”

Just… driving?

Wood had a realization and hurriedly said, “I can do that! Sir, I even have my own draft horse and flatbed cart. They can be put to use immediately!”

The Secretary picked up the two passes on the table, stamped them with a seal—thump, thump—and handed them to Wood with a smile. “Not so fast. Your draft horse carriage won’t be needed. It will be registered as your private property and pass through with your nephew. As for you… you’ll probably need some time to learn how to drive our new model of wheeled vehicle.”

Learn to drive a new model of wheeled vehicle?

Wood was stunned for a moment. He suddenly remembered those… strange wheeled vehicles he had seen with his own eyes in Wolf Fang Ridge. They had no beasts of burden pulling them, yet they moved smoothly on their own, and could even carry quite a few people.

“You want me… me to learn to control one of those Lord Wizards’ magical constructs? Is… is that really allowed?”

The half-orc officer caught sight of the sun emblem tattooed on Wood’s wrist where his sleeve was rolled up. His expression immediately darkened, and his tone turned ice-cold. “What? Do you have a problem with a Spellcaster’s alchemical constructs? Do you think it’s heresy that blasphemes the gods?”

Wood was startled by the officer’s expression. Following his hostile gaze to his own arm, he realized the problem and, flushing red, hurriedly explained, “No, that’s not it! Sir, please let me explain… I don’t dare harbor the slightest aversion to the… Lord Spellcasters. I’ll behave myself from now on and will never believe in the Church again!”

As he spoke, he yanked up Jacob’s sleeve, revealing the boy’s thin, pale wrist. He said urgently, “Look! This child hasn’t been baptized. My family aren’t all devout followers, and we’d never be foolish like those fanatics. Please don’t reject me because of this. I’m willing to follow all arrangements!”

The Secretary leaned close to the half-orc officer’s ear and whispered, “When this fellow came for his screening and registration, he was honest about being a believer right from the start. He didn’t hide anything… And the boy really doesn’t have a baptismal mark. Their backgrounds are clean.”

Only then did the officer nod, stuffing the passes into Wood’s hand.

“Alright… Take the passes and this recruitment form. After you go through, someone will be there to arrange things. There should be plenty of people choosing this assignment, just like you.”

Before leaving, Wood finally couldn’t hold back any longer. He turned and asked cautiously, “Sir… where will you need me to transport goods with the army?”

“We’re not transporting goods… we’re picking up people. You will need to follow the army back into Isengard territory and rescue our innocent countrymen stranded in the areas ravaged by the non-human races.”

…

“Go back to central and northern Isengard… to cover the refugees fleeing south?” Baron Peyton sat in his chair, looking with a mixture of shock and uncertainty at High-rank Police Superintendent Max Anton and Population Management Department Director Dave.

Dave nodded and pointed to the map spread out on the table. “Correct. His Majesty’s intention is for us to establish a resistance point in Highland City, where most of the population has already evacuated. We will use that as a starting point to push north, picking up civilians fleeing south along the way and, while we’re at it, eliminating the small bands of non-humans that have penetrated the area. This way… we can greatly reduce civilian casualties and prevent them from becoming more pointless victims of those monsters.”

Baron Peyton swallowed, his throat feeling dry and hoarse. “How many troops does His Majesty plan to send into the country? Northern Isengard has completely fallen, and a great number of non-humans have invaded from the Great Rift of the Spine of the Gods Mountains. I’m afraid that dividing our forces to rescue civilians along the way will leave us outnumbered and vulnerable to being surrounded and harassed…”

Max glanced at the baron in some surprise. He hadn’t expected this minor noble who had surrendered so readily to have such a keen insight into military strategy. He was already acting entirely like one of the Valen people, worrying and planning on their behalf… though it seemed he had little regard for the lives of his own countrymen, not yet having fully shed the selfish ways of the nobility.

“You don’t need to worry about the rest. His Majesty has dispatched aerial units that can rapidly deploy for support anywhere. Dealing with small bands of non-humans roaming through central Isengard will be no problem at all… You just need to cooperate with us in formulating the plan. Gather as much intelligence as you can from the refugees to confirm their primary escape routes south.”

Chapter 726: The Hardliner

“This damned sandstorm!” Earl Julian stood by the balcony of the castle, gazing at the gloomy, sallow horizon in the distance and complaining impatiently. “A strong wind will start blowing tonight at the latest… What terrible timing!”

No more than fifty kilometers away from Wolf Fang Ridge, Twin Cities was also near the border mountains. However, due to the vast surrounding Pasture Area and mountain Mining Area, it was periodically struck by violent sandstorms, especially during summer and autumn… The storms often arrived without any warning, causing great trouble for the local herdsmen.

But the Earl’s mood was not solely due to the bad weather; it was also because of a letter from Wolf Fang Ridge.

“My lord, how do you plan to reply to Baron Peyton?” the old Steward asked cautiously after reading the letter several times. “Should we cooperate with him and evacuate the city’s populace to St. Valen’s territory to escape the invasion of the northern non-human races?”

“Cooperate with him?” The Earl sneered, rolling his eyes in contempt. “That shameless scoundrel Peyton, at a critical moment when the kingdom is being invaded by non-humans, immediately turned his coat and defected to St. Valen like a fence-sitter. And now he has the gall to urge me to follow him in abandoning the Church and betraying our country!”

The Steward was taken aback. After a moment’s pause, he quietly advised, “But… but we are no match for the strength of the Valen people. If we don’t comply with their demands, I’m afraid…”

“Afraid of what? Twin Cities has long been prepared to fight the northern non-human races. If the Valen people want to invade first, I will not yield an inch!”

He paused, then continued, “I have already dispatched a cavalry detachment to the mountain Mining Area to consolidate the mine slaves and guards. When the time comes, I will lead the city’s entire military and civilian population to retreat into the mountains and fight these invaders to the death!”

The more the Earl spoke, the angrier he became, his voice growing louder without him realizing it. His words carried far from the castle balcony, causing many servants in the courtyard below to look up.

The old Steward hurried forward and reminded him nervously, “My lord, please lower your voice! Those fellows from the Stoneheart Hermits have been operating openly in the city for some time now. They are all spies kept by the Valen people. We absolutely cannot let our plans leak out ahead of time!”

Earl Julian’s face flushed red instantly as he realized his slip of the tongue… His main forces were stationed at the mountain Mining Area, guarding a huge number of mine slaves. Normally, the cavalry guard available for deployment in Twin Cities numbered just over a thousand. While that was enough to suppress the populace and maintain order, hunting down foreign spies in a city of nearly ten thousand people left him stretched thin.

No matter how angry or dissatisfied he was, he could not directly provoke the Valen people, who were so close at hand. Before completely retreating into the mountains… he was powerless against the magical armies of the wizard emperor.

He couldn’t afford to provoke them… but surrendering without a fight was even more impossible. Twin Cities was his family’s fiefdom, managed for over a hundred years. Every inch of this land was his private property. Whether it was the Valen people or the northern non-humans at his door, he would not yield a single step.

For now, he could only wait for the right moment. Once all the city’s supplies were moved to the mountains, he would lead his army to defend the strategic passes. Surely then, he would have a way to resist an enemy attacking from two sides!

…

Before long, the sound of hurried footsteps interrupted the Earl’s planning.

A guard staggered in, dropped to one knee, and said with a trembling voice, “Your Lordship, something terrible has happened!”

“Has the cavalry detachment to the Mining Area returned?”

“No… no, it’s the sky! Many floating sailing vessels have suddenly appeared in the sky. A high-rank wizard flew directly to the city gate and made a request to the captain of the guards… He said a sandstorm is coming and they want to land in the city to take temporary shelter from the storm!”

It’s those damned Valen people! Only they would possess such bizarre magical constructs, capable of making sailing ships fly freely through the air.

A while ago, some cavalry on patrol outside the city had spotted faint traces of these magical constructs in the sky from a distant hill. He never expected them to arrive at Twin Cities so quickly.

“Have you confirmed their identity and origin?” Earl Julian’s voice was flustered, but he pressed on, unwilling to give up hope. “How many have come?”

“There are nearly thirty flying sailing ships. The number of people is still undetermined, but there are definitely wizards among them.” The guard lowered his head. “Their identity has been verified. They are indeed the Valen people. The black and gold-trimmed insignia is emblazoned on the ships, and it’s conspicuous even from a distance.”

The old Steward came forward and asked in a low voice, “Have they entered the city yet?”

“…Not yet. They’re just floating in the air above the city gate. Only one wizard came down, and his attitude wasn’t arrogant. In fact, he was quite courteous.”

The Earl struggled for a moment, his mind a tangled mess, unable to decide what to do. It was only after the old Steward leaned in and whispered a few consoling words in his ear that he gritted his teeth and forced out a reply.

“Clear out the threshing ground in the west of the city. Let them… let their magical constructs land there.”

As soon as he finished speaking, another guard rushed in.

“Your Lordship, the high-rank wizard who requested temporary shelter from the storm… has now made another request to meet the City Lord… He—he wants to see you!”

The old Steward said in horror, “What does this mean? Meet with The Earl… What is he planning to do?”

The Holy See’s Priests and the Army of Judgment’s knights, who were originally stationed in Twin Cities, had already departed one by one for the north to fight the non-humans during the invasion of Isengard. The few who had remained later received news that the Holy City Goris was under attack and went back to reinforce it without a second thought.

Right now, the only ones in the entire city who could be considered transcendent beings were a few healing Priests in the parish monastery. They had no power to fight a heretic wizard, let alone the ordinary Church knights under their command.

The low-rank Bloodline Warriors kept in the City Lord’s Manor would be no match for a high-rank wizard either. Besides, they still didn’t know how many heretic wizards were mixed in among the crews of those flying sailing ships. A rash refusal might just escalate the conflict and give the other side an excuse to use force.

To meet or not to meet… it seemed the choice was no longer up to Earl Julian.

He could only shake his head in defeat and wave his hand. “What other choice do I have? Tell that high-rank wizard I can meet with him at any time.”

At least they hadn’t openly turned hostile yet. Since the other party wanted to meet, there was no harm in it… These wizards, who were always so arrogant, surely wouldn’t attack him on the spot.

The soldier placed a hand on his chest and bowed. Having received his orders, he rose to carry them out.

But the Earl seemed to remember something and suddenly asked, “Did that high-rank wizard give his name?”

“Yes… He calls himself Colonel Fell Hoden.”

Chapter 727: A Difficult Dilemma

Earl Julian soon met the high-rank wizard, who had requested the meeting, in the reception hall of the City Lord’s Manor.

Although he had no idea what position the apparently fabricated term “Colonel” represented in St. Valen’s military hierarchy, a high-rank wizard’s power was clearly comparable to that of a high priest in one of the Church’s parishes. Therefore, he dared not take the visitor lightly and chose to greet him personally.

“Hoden… Colonel,” the Earl said with a smile that was both reserved and enthusiastic, greeting the visitor with impeccable noble etiquette. “I am the lord of Twin Cities, Earl Julian. I am most pleasantly surprised by your sudden visit. The weather in this area has always been harsh, and accidents often occur.”

The group that had come to call on the Earl was small. Besides the Son of Flame himself, he was accompanied by only four mid-rank Spellcasters. All were dressed in uniform dark black military attire… The complex rank insignias embroidered on their cuffs and chests made it impossible for the people of Twin Cities to discern their ranks.

Seeing that the Earl had adopted a sufficiently humble posture and a deferential attitude, the Son of Flame naturally had no reason to lash out without cause.

“I’ve already informed Your Excellency. I am Colonel Hoden, Marshal of the Independent Airship Regiment of St. Valen and the United Kingdom of the Northern Realm… The main purpose of this meeting is to ask on behalf of Baron Peyton of Wolf Fang Ridge: when does Your Lordship the Earl intend to begin evacuating the city’s residents to seek refuge at the Wolf Fang Ridge strategic pass?”

When to evacuate?

Earl Julian was a little stunned. Baron Peyton had merely sent a letter to inquire about his intention to defect, so how had they suddenly shown up at his door to force the issue? There was no basic negotiation, no mention of any promised benefits. Were they assuming he wouldn’t dare refuse?

Of course, he didn’t dare to openly defy them… Seeing this, the old Steward quickly interjected, “Er, Colonel, sir, as you can see… the weather around Twin Cities is always unpredictable. Even if we were to evacuate the people, we would need to wait for the sandstorm to subside. Moreover, the city’s residents make up less than thirty percent of the Earl’s fiefdom. Many more are scattered in the nearby mountain mining areas, and it will take some effort to contact and organize them. So, we will indeed need some time.”

The Earl, having collected himself, quickly added, “That’s right. The population of Twin Cities is too dispersed. Please give us some time, Colonel. As the lord of this land, I cannot casually abandon any of my innocent subjects to flee alone.”

This righteous-sounding excuse temporarily bluffed the Son of Flame. He pondered for a moment before nodding. “In that case, it seems I failed to consider the actual situation… But don’t blame me for not warning you beforehand. Traces of Demonic Lizardmen have already been spotted in Sinking Mulberry Valley, over one hundred kilometers to the north. If you continue to drag your feet, you will only put yourselves in greater danger.”

“I understand… I understand…” The Earl nodded repeatedly. Glancing sideways, he saw the old Steward frequently signaling him with his eyes and an idea suddenly struck him. “Those non-human monsters are already so close. I fear that even if we evacuate immediately… we might not escape their pursuit. Colonel Hoden, for the sake of the several thousand innocent people in this city, could you please petition His Majesty the Emperor of St. Valen on my behalf to send troops to intercept them and buy us some time to evacuate?”

The Son of Flame let out a dry laugh. “Why bother His Majesty with such a trivial matter? Our aerial patrol was assigned to scout for enemy activity in the area anyway. We only stopped in Twin Cities because we ran into a sandstorm. As for the enemies near Sinking Mulberry Valley… we will do our best to intercept them for you. Once the storm subsides, the Airship squad will set off immediately.”

The Earl was overjoyed and repeatedly thanked the Fire Mage, sparing no words of praise and flattery. The latter grew somewhat impatient with the display, and after a few more perfunctory pleasantries, he hastily took his leave with his men.

…

“I never expected that, by a stroke of luck, we’d manage to get these guys to fight the northern non-humans… Even if they can’t defeat them, they can still buy us enough time to retreat into the mountains. All in all, it’s a surefire gain!”

The old Steward leaned in and whispered, “The one in charge is a powerful high-rank wizard. What if they actually manage to take care of those non-humans?”

The Earl tutted and sneered, “That doesn’t matter either. By the time they return, we’ll have long since hidden away in the mountain mines. We won’t leave a single person or a single scrap of supplies for them in Twin Cities!”

“What if they chase us into the mountains?”

“In the largest gold mine, we went to great expense to procure dozens of alchemical anti-magic crossbows to fend off the ferocious Demonic beasts that often roam the mountains. If they really dare to chase us there… I don’t mind letting them have a taste of these alchemical weapons, which are specifically designed to counter wizards!”

To be honest, Earl Julian had no real desire to become an enemy of St. Valen.

As the lord of Twin Cities, located in a remote mountainous area on the border, he had never had much dealing with the Valen people in the past. His earliest knowledge of them was hearing that a wizard from the Northern Realm’s pioneer territories had suddenly risen to become the ruler of St. Valen, and had rather presumptuously and arrogantly proclaimed himself Emperor… However, this wizard emperor then proceeded to sweep through the Holy See’s Holy City Goris, brazenly razing it to the ground.

According to rumor, a full three of the Holy See’s Army of Judgment legions had failed to withstand his army’s assault and were utterly crushed overnight. The neighboring vassal state of Alid was also destroyed in an instant. The rest of the central kingdoms were all scared out of their wits, trembling in fear that the invincible magical army of the Valen people would appear at their gates and attack without a declaration of war at any moment.

What was even more shocking was that Baron Peyton’s letter claimed that the Valen people had already clashed with those terrifying northern non-human races several times deep in the barren lands north of the Spine of the Continent Mountains over a year ago, and had emerged victorious every time.

Regardless of whether the claims were true, the Earl felt he shouldn’t take the risk of making a complete enemy of them.

Of course, he was unwilling to bow his head in submission and offer up everything… The gold mine, passed down through his family for generations, was as precious to him as his own flesh and blood. Handing it over to the Valen people would be more unbearable than death itself.

“If I can’t afford to provoke them… can’t I at least hide from them?” The Earl had always approached the situation with this mindset.

Twin Cities was not a critical strategic pass of great value. Compared to the other populous and wealthy territories in central Isengard, this remote little city was simply not worth too much of the Valen people’s attention. As long as he didn’t shamelessly start a conflict with them, once he secretly moved everyone to hide in the mountains and left an empty city behind… he should be completely forgotten before long.

…

The next morning, just as the violent sandstorm that had raged all night began to subside, a guard hurried over to report.

The St. Valen Airship squad that had been docked in the city had set off without delay, heading swiftly toward Sinking Mulberry Valley.

The Earl strode to the window, raised his spyglass, and observed the receding magical constructs as they flew away.

His feelings were truly conflicted… On one hand, he hoped they could really intercept and destroy the southward-advancing non-human race, resolving the imminent crisis facing Twin Cities. On the other, he secretly wished for them to fail and be defeated, so they would no longer have the time to pressure him into surrendering and relocating.

Chapter 728: A Novice on the Road

Wood sat in the driver’s seat of the alchemical wheeled vehicle, feeling as if the constant bumps were about to shake him apart.

After being selected for the accelerated driving course and training for over a week, he still couldn’t fully believe that the alchemical wheeled vehicle beneath him… was actually alive.

The instructor in charge of them had repeatedly emphasized that these magical constructs, forged entirely of metal and appearing somewhat heavy and clumsy, had in fact been fused with the soul of a tamed pack beast during their creation, granting them a degree of autonomous consciousness.

Wood naturally didn’t dare to delve into the bizarre methods of wizards; he was completely clueless about things like souls, magic, or consciousness… The only thing he understood was that controlling the wheeled vehicle wasn’t all that different from driving a horse.

Oxen and horses pulling a cart required pulling on the reins to control their direction, and a crack of the whip to urge them to speed up… Driving the wheeled vehicle was much the same. The only difference was that the reins were replaced by a “steering wheel” that had to be gripped at all times, while accelerating and decelerating required pressing down hard on two different pedals with his feet. Only then would this alchemical construct receive the corresponding command signals and obediently follow instructions.

All the tedious operations sounded complicated, but for an experienced hand like Wood, who had driven horse-drawn carriages for years, he was quickly able to integrate his past experience. From the moment he started, he received constant praise from the instructor, who called him a natural-born wheeled vehicle driver.

“Driver,” that was another completely unfamiliar term. But it probably meant something similar to a charioteer… After all, that kind of title was only bestowed upon those who drove carriages for royalty, nobles, or high-ranking members of the Church. An ordinary driver could only be called a coachman.

The praise spurred Wood, the novice driver, to devote himself even more diligently to practicing his driving skills, always ready to welcome his first upcoming mission.

His wish was soon granted… The newly established Border Transport Team received an extremely urgent transport mission. It was so sudden that the army’s high command had no choice but to deploy all the trainees, which meant Wood and the others would have to drive the wheeled vehicles independently. They were to return to the non-human race-infested central and northern regions of Isengard to assist the St. Valen army with the rescue and relocation of refugees.

…

“Holmes… Hey! Holmes! Wake up, don’t sleep!” The wheeled vehicle rumbled across the endless plains, yet the noise wasn’t enough to wake his companion slumped in the passenger seat, forcing Wood to take a hand off the wheel to shove him forcefully.

“Ngh… Are we at Highland City?” Holmes asked, his eyes bleary with sleep as he straightened up and peered out the window.

The transport team had dispatched nearly one hundred wheeled vehicles, with two drivers per vehicle taking turns. They followed behind the army’s war vehicles, setting out from the Wolf Fang Ridge garrison and heading north. Since they had departed at dusk, Holmes, a native of St. Valen, had led the charge from the front, taking on the more difficult night-time leg of the journey. He had persisted until the first light of dawn before handing the controls over to the eager Wood, then curled up in the passenger seat to catch up on his sleep.

“Highland City? You were sleeping like a log. We passed Highland City a long time ago!” Wood was a little excited on his first mission. The army escort meant he no longer feared the terrifying northern non-human races, and the sense of accomplishment from controlling the magical construct made him feel as if he, a mere mortal, could stand shoulder to shoulder with transcendent beings for a moment. “We’re about to reach Transport Station Number Four.”

“We went straight past Highland City? Without stopping to rest? Looks like this mission is really urgent…”

Holmes had handled many urgent transport jobs back in St. Valen and had been on a few thrilling journeys across the barren lands, so he was unfazed. Rubbing his tired eyes, he dug out the map.

“That’s right. In over fifteen kilometers, we’ll reach Transport Station Number Four. By my estimate, the vehicle’s magical energy will be just about depleted by then, so we’ll need to replenish it there.”

This touched on a point that had long intrigued Wood. “Holmes… the magical fodder the alchemical wheeled vehicles eat, compared to the ordinary fodder for camel-oxen and draft horses, which one is more expensive?”

The oxen and horses used for long-distance transport not only needed alfalfa fodder but also had to be supplemented with refined feed like wheat cakes and soybean meal to maintain their stamina. Salt licks had to be provided at all times as well, otherwise, their lifespans would be drastically shortened under the strain of heavy transport work, or they would frequently suffer from various illnesses, leading to business losses for the carriage owner.

The alchemical wheeled vehicles also housed the soul of a pack beast, and Wood had personally witnessed and learned how to stuff the completely sealed metal canisters, called “magical energy fuel,” into the sealed slot on the vehicle’s side. Although the “veteran drivers” called this “refueling”… in Wood’s heart, he still saw it as feeding these magical oxen and horses their fodder and refined feed.

Holmes burst out laughing. “Magical fodder? Hahaha… Are all you Isengardians this humorous? This stuff is far more precious than the fodder ordinary oxen and horses chew on. The difference in value between them… is probably like the difference between stones and gold. Magical energy fuel is only produced in the capital, Starfire City. Each transport team only gets a fixed quota, and sometimes the Captain even has to go and fight for it just to get us extra fuel supplies.”

Wood had a sudden realization, not feeling the least bit embarrassed. Instead, he said earnestly, “I see… So this non-stop, day-and-night travel of ours must be using up a lot of the team’s fuel… uh, quota, right?”

Holmes stuck a cigarette between his lips and waved his hand. “Don’t worry. For urgent missions like this, the Northern Army reimburses us for the fuel quota, and the participating transport team members also get an extra stipend. So it’s only right that we’re a bit tired.”

Wood nodded and turned his attention back to driving, concentrating on keeping up with the convoy and enduring the bumpy ride.

…

Before long, they saw a dense forest and several tall watchtowers in the distance.

They had reached Transport Station Number Four…

Wood had passed through here months ago when he was fleeing south. Because of the spring water source, it had long been a regular resting place for passing caravans. When enough caravans gathered, they would even set up small, temporary markets on the spot to buy and sell goods and materials.

Although the scenery and terrain were still similar, the place was now a military outpost constructed by the Valen people—with its towering watchtowers, layers of checkpoints and roadblocks along the road, crates of supplies stacked in the open, a simple outer wall, and the figures of soldiers patrolling back and forth.

He had heard that an entire battalion headquarters was stationed here… which meant over five hundred soldiers.

But after getting out of the vehicle, Wood took a quick look around and noticed that in the many temporarily erected houses and tents, there were clearly many ordinary people in ragged clothes with sallow, emaciated faces… These people were clearly Isengardians who had fled south as refugees.

Holmes walked over to his side. “The Captain already told me. Our mission… is to get them to the border safely as quickly as possible, and then transfer them into St. Valen territory.”

“There don’t seem to be that many of them… less than a thousand people. Why did we dispatch over a hundred wheeled vehicles?”

Holmes sighed and said somberly, “This is just the first group to arrive. There are nearly ten thousand more refugees behind them, rescued from the hands of the Demonic Lizardmen by the troops fighting at the front. Their condition is even more tragic… and they will be arriving at the station soon.”

Chapter 729: Long-Distance Transfer

Although the refugee camp was somewhat haphazardly laid out, it was surprisingly orderly. With only a handful of soldiers on duty, most people obediently lined up with their containers and buckets to receive boiled drinking water and cooked wheat porridge.

Before their next assignment, members of the transport team were allowed to move freely within the station.

Wood stood to one side and observed for a moment. He discovered that the St. Valen people were actually providing food to these fleeing civilians for free. In the center of the camp, a large tent flew a white flag with a red cross. There were even healers in white robes bustling in and out, meticulously treating those who had fallen ill or been injured on their journey south.

They truly intended to rescue these people from Isengard, not just treat them as slaves to be brutally plundered and sold off at will.

After wandering around for just a short while, Wood received his next assignment and hurried back to the transport team’s station.

Seeing Holmes drenched in sweat as he carried heavy magical energy fuel canisters, Wood’s face flushed, and he rushed over to help.

“Go get your dinner soon. The station will start boarding the refugees shortly. We’ll have to grab our food and eat on the road.”

“We’re heading back tonight?” Wood’s mouth fell slightly open in surprise. This was too rushed.

Holmes wiped his face and let out a long breath. “What choice do we have? Even if we wait just one night, more refugees will arrive from the front. We can’t let them stay here for long. If all goes well, we’ll run into the second transport team on our way back.”

Wood narrowed his eyes. He didn’t even need to count on his fingers to get a rough idea of the number of people they needed to transport this trip.

The kind of wheeled vehicle he drove, with its open rear bed, could carry at least thirty people if packed as tightly as it would be for cargo. Their convoy had a hundred vehicles in total, so this single trip would transport over three thousand people south.

If a second and third convoy were also on their way from the border region, it would only take two or three rounds to move all the refugees currently stranded at the station.

The efficiency was unheard of, countless times greater than the carrying capacity of traditional camel-oxen or draft horse-drawn carts.

As he thought about the life he would have in St. Valen after completing this mission, Wood couldn’t help but entertain a slightly delusional thought…

If only he could truly serve the kingdom of St. Valen and have his very own alchemical wheeled vehicle!

…

Night fell. On the boundless grasslands, a long convoy of vehicles sped along.

The front of each alchemical wheeled vehicle was equipped with two huge magic stone lamps, allowing them to see the illuminated road ahead clearly even while driving at night as they followed closely behind one another in a column.

The continuous low hum from overhead indicated that several floating Airships were flying at low altitude, partly to help the convoy correct its course and confirm its destination, and partly to ensure their safety along the route.

With these aerial units accompanying them, both the drivers of the wheeled vehicles and the refugee passengers felt much more at ease traveling at night.

Returning from Transport Station No. 4 to the nearest supply point, Highland City, required a full day and night of non-stop driving. As per regulations, the first shift naturally went to the more experienced night driver, Holmes. Wood sat in the passenger seat to catch up on sleep, waiting to be woken for his shift at dawn.

But Wood, being a novice, was too excited to sleep. With wide eyes, he pestered Holmes, repeatedly asking about every detail of the alchemical wheeled vehicles. It actually helped his companion on the night shift avoid the danger of drowsy driving.

“I know about driving, but if you ask me how these wheeled vehicles are made, I don’t have a clue…” Holmes said, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He chatted idly with Wood while gripping the steering wheel firmly and keeping his eyes on the road. “All the wheeled vehicles are made in Starfire City. You must have heard the instructors mention it often at the temporary driving school on the border.”

“Yes, they’re magical constructs made by wiz—… by Spellcasters. This hunk of iron also has an extracted pack beast Soul Core inside it, but what is that? And what if they… what if they get sick?”

Holmes chuckled. “Get sick? How can an alchemical hunk of iron get sick? Oh! I know… you mean how to repair it when it breaks down, right?”

He puckered his lips and blew out a thick cloud of smoke, chuckling. “You guys went through accelerated training, so you probably didn’t learn emergency repairs. The part that has the most problems… is actually these two pairs of wheels under our rears. Leaks and flat tires are common occurrences. When necessary, we have to replace a tire with the spare on the spot.”

“Of course, if there’s a problem with the power core… we can only have another wheeled vehicle from the team tow it back to the Maintenance Center to be dismantled and repaired. That’s beyond our skill set.”

A problem with the core… the Maintenance Center…

Wood muttered this to himself a few times, then asked cautiously, “The people at the Maintenance Center, they’ve mastered the techniques to repair these magical constructs?”

“Hmm… What? You want to work at the Maintenance Center? Haha, that’s not just a matter of knowing how to read a few words. You’d have to at least be a graduate of the Intermediate Education Department at the capital’s public academy to qualify for work in a core department of the kingdom like that.”

Wood’s heart leaped into his throat. He pressed on, “So you have to be a native noble? Or do you need to pay a huge amount in tuition fees?”

Holmes shook his head. “Not at all… A maintenance technician I know is a Cave Dwarf from the Breath of the Hills. Attending the public academy is free, too. You just need to obtain official St. Valen residency.”

Jacob… If I serve the kingdom with all my heart, maybe I can earn residency and get Jacob a chance to enroll in the public academy! Then in the future, he could get into that core department called the Maintenance Center…

The two of them, uncle and nephew, one driving and one repairing… the thought alone made the future seem boundlessly bright!

…

The convoy sped onward, arriving at Highland City by the afternoon of the second day.

While drinking water and food were being distributed to the refugees on the vehicles and the wheeled vehicles were being refueled with magical energy, a Northern Army soldier led a man in a black uniform who looked like an officer over to them.

“Are you the recruited drivers for Transport Team, Group One?”

“Yes, Sir. How can we help you?” Holmes hastily removed his hat and saluted.

The officer nodded in return and continued, “Frontline troops have engaged the enemy in Shengsang Prefecture in the northwest… We rescued a group of civilians fleeing south there. Colonel Hoden, commander of the Independent Airship Regiment, has sent instructions for reinforcements to form a temporary transport team from the nearest location to go and transport the refugees!”

Shengsang Prefecture… The closest city was the Twin Cities, but there was no St. Valen transport station set up in the city yet. That’s why they had to form a temporary transport team by requisitioning people from Highland City. No wonder these soldiers had their eyes on drivers like them, who had just returned from Station No. 4.

Back during their accelerated training, Wood and the others had been told that all transport tasks undertaken by the convoy had to prioritize support for military operations. If a battle broke out nearby, they would have to transport artillery, ammunition, and other supplies in addition to refugees.

Of course, from the officer’s tone… it seemed he intended to select drivers who volunteered.

Wood and Holmes exchanged a glance, both seeing the eagerness in the other’s eyes. This was clearly a good opportunity to prove themselves.

“Sir, we volunteer!”

Chapter 730: Transport Under Fire

Dozens of drivers who had volunteered for the transport team were quickly brought to the Northern Army camp in Highland City.

“You are all non-combat personnel with no military training… but with the current emergency, we don’t have time to dispatch trained drivers from the border garrisons.”

The officer in charge swept his steady gaze over the crowd, his tone serious as he reminded them, “And I know that some of you are even natives of Isengard, recruited on short notice, with less than a week of accelerated training. Although your driving skills have passed the test, you have never been to the front lines and do not know how brutal the conditions there truly are…”

Before he could finish, a plainsman of about forty, his hair already streaked with gray, stepped forward and said loudly, “Sir, we all volunteered for this operation. You needn’t worry that we’ll cling to life and fear death. You Valen people are willing to risk everything to save your fellow kin in a neighboring country, so it is only right that we plainsmen contribute our part!”

The other Isengard plainsfolk in the group echoed his sentiment, vowing to follow orders and resolutely complete the transport mission.

These plainsfolk were indeed a bold and fierce people, and the officer couldn’t help but reveal a look of satisfaction.

“Very good! Your mission this time is actually quite simple.” He gestured for a soldier to distribute a thick stack of regional maps. “Your destination is a temporary defensive outpost south of Sinking Mulberry Valley, over one hundred and fifty kilometers from Highland City. You are to carry sufficient supplies from Highland City and follow the army to arrive at dawn. Then, you will pick up the refugees stranded there and bring them back. There are no supply points along the way where you can stop. If you’re lucky enough… perhaps you won’t run into any pursuing non-human enemies.”

The Northern Army was currently engaged in battle with the Demonic Lizardmen in the Sinking Mulberry Valley area. This meant any nearby defensive outpost was merely a temporary setup to prevent small, roaming bands of non-humans from chasing down fleeing civilians. It wouldn’t be heavily garrisoned; most of the people there were likely ordinary commoners who had been driven out by the non-human race or rescued from battle with nowhere else to go.

A stir went through the crowd.

The Northern Army officer’s meaning was clear… they had to snatch the survivors from the grim reaper’s grasp before the Demonic Lizardmen’s butcher blades fell!

On the return journey, they could only hope to be lucky enough to avoid encountering any pursuing non-humans!

“S-Sir, will our return convoy be escorted by soldiers?”

“The soldiers at the temporary outpost will return with you, don’t worry! Even if we encounter the enemy, it will still be the soldiers of the Northern Army who undertake the combat duties. You just need to focus on driving and push those wheeled vehicles to their maximum speed for me!”

With that, he took a stack of small, colorful slips of paper from his adjutant and brandished them in his hand.

“Drivers who successfully complete this rescue mission will receive a combat stipend twice their usual salary. And for those of you newly recruited from Isengard, you can even be immediately approved for official residency in St. Valen, without having to go through the layers of review… Of course, the mission carries a certain degree of danger. If you decide to withdraw now, we will not force you to participate!”

As soon as he finished speaking, Wood was the first to step out.

“I’ll join! Sir, please consider me first!”

Holmes, who was in the same vehicle, stepped out right after him. His youngest son was currently studying at the public academy in Grizzly Keep and urgently needed him to earn some merit in the military so that he could successfully advance to the Spellcaster Academy in the capital, thereby ascending from an ordinary mortal to a transcendent being.

One by one, the remaining men stepped forward. Not a single person who had volunteered chose to back out.

The officer’s stern expression softened. He immediately had his soldiers begin assigning vehicle crews.

“Get ready as quickly as you can. The supplies will be loaded in two hours, and then we set off immediately!”

…

It was evening again, nearing nightfall. The distant horizon glowed with the dim yellow of the setting sun, and a sudden sandstorm seemed to be brewing.

Under the dusky sky, a long convoy of dozens of wheeled vehicles, fully loaded with military supplies, snaked its way out of Highland City, following the massive war vehicles ahead.

Departing with them were dozens of transport Airships, also carrying vital military supplies. With their energy cores running at full power, the alchemical wheeled vehicles’ speed was nearly comparable to the aerial vehicles, and they rushed toward the designated destination at a speed of twenty-five kilometers per hour.

At midnight, the transport team followed the convoy straight into a sandstorm-swept region, and before long, they lost contact with the Airship squad overhead.

Sand and dust raged in the darkness. Even with the massive magic stone lamps for illumination, the drivers lost most of their visibility. They could only rely on the constant instructions from the onboard alchemical communicators to barely keep up with the vehicle in front and not fall behind.

To prevent any accidents, everyone drove their wheeled vehicles with intense concentration. Many co-drivers even climbed from the locomotive to the cargo bed behind, repeatedly checking to ensure the supplies did not fall off due to the violent jolting of the ride.

Only after battling their way out of the sandstorm did the transport team, signaled by the army ahead, slow down and begin a rapid self-check… It was then they discovered that during that perilous stretch of road, a few vehicles at the rear had unfortunately overturned or broken down for various reasons. The logistics mechanics with the army had to dispatch a small team to turn back for the rescue.

Fortunately, the rest of the night went smoothly. Before the morning sun had a chance to rise, the army and the transport convoy arrived at their destination on time.

Wood leaned out of the wheelhouse, his face a mask of shock and a hint of fear as he looked at the situation at the temporary outpost.

“Radiance be… Oh no! Good heavens! Holmes, look!”

Above the obviously hastily constructed outpost camp, dozens of black monsters with long wings were circling. They were continuously flinging sharp weapons they had materialized in their hands, shooting them toward the soldiers fighting back below.

Holmes seemed to have seen such a terrifying scene before. He frowned and said in a low voice, “Those are Winged ones, the Demonic Lizardmen’s Winged ones… Only these damned flying monsters have the ability to break through the army’s blockade and harass our rear.”

Although he had mustered his courage before setting out, seeing these rumored non-human monsters with his own eyes made Wood’s voice tremble slightly. “Then… then what do we do? Do we charge in with the army ahead?”

The soldiers garrisoned at the temporary outpost were clearly engaged in a fierce battle with the enemy in the sky. Apparently lacking anti-air weapons, they were unable to deal with the agile Winged ones.

But Holmes just let out a soft chuckle. With practiced movements, he retrieved two steel plates from behind his seat, each with a circular hole in the center. He slotted them directly onto the wheelhouse’s windshield, covering most of the view… leaving only two fist-sized round holes through which he could barely see the road ahead.

“Of course. Our mission is to go in, unload the cargo, and pick up the people.”

Chapter 731: A Life-or-Death Rescue

The convoy followed closely behind the war vehicle, plunging headfirst into the chaotic temporary stronghold.

The moment Wood and Holmes pulled the handbrakes, a frantic banging echoed on the truck’s metal door. “Hurry, hurry, hurry! Get out! Unload the cargo and load the people, we can’t stay here long!”

Just as Wood was about to open the door and jump out of the wheelhouse, Holmes grabbed him. He produced a military-issue iron helmet from somewhere and slapped it onto Wood’s head.

“Be smart… and keep an eye on those things in the sky!”

The reinforcement soldiers who had just arrived at the stronghold had already assembled swiftly. They fanned out to set up firing positions. One by one, Magical Energy Machine Guns and single-shot beam weapons were assembled, their muzzles soon raised to aim at the targets in the sky.

This was the first time Wood had seen the people of St. Valen use their rumored magical weapons in an attack. He had long heard that those strange-looking contraptions, no different from crude iron rods, could shoot fire from extreme distances, accurately blowing to pieces any enemy they locked onto.

Now that he was facing this formation for real, he couldn’t help but feel awestruck. How did these soldiers, commoners just like him, manage to master such magical constructs? And how were they trained to be so brave, dauntless, and disciplined?

No wonder even those terrifying non-human races from the north were no match for them…

The actual fighting was not for auxiliary personnel like Wood and his crew to get involved in. The convoy’s unloading area was positioned as far from the combat zone as possible. They worked with the soldiers who came to receive the supplies, quickly setting up the hoisting equipment.

“This temporary stronghold isn’t even equipped with a single worker alchemical beast. This ammunition and these cannon barrels are so heavy…” Holmes grumbled under his breath. His complaint was answered by the sudden roar of artillery from the front.

The massive boom was accompanied by a tremor that ran through the ground. Wood’s legs went soft, and he quickly leaned against the side of the truck. Pressing his back against the cold vehicle body, he belatedly realized his clothes were soaked with sweat.

“Don’t worry… that’s the artillery position firing at a distance. It means the enemy’s ground troops are still at least five hundred meters away from us. By the time close-quarters fighting breaks out, we should have already loaded everyone up and left.”

Holmes, an ammunition box on his shoulder, managed to free a hand to pull Wood along, making him feel a bit embarrassed.

“Have you… been in this kind of situation before?”

“Of course! In Goris, our army fought both the Holy See and the Demonic Lizardmen at the same time. We buried them both with the force of a thunderclap and razed the Holy City to the ground for good measure.”

Holmes clearly had no intention of boasting at length about his experiences at such a critical moment. After those few words, he walked off, still carrying the supply crate, leaving a stunned Wood frozen in place.

Another thunderous boom echoed. A cloud of yellowish dust rose from the forward artillery position. The last few Winged ones circling at low altitude tried to approach and interfere, but they were instantly shot down by the beam weapons that had long since locked onto their targets, disintegrating into showers of bloody fragments that rained down on the ground.

Soldiers continuously transported the supplies unloaded from the convoy to the front lines. They were quickly unboxed and assembled. One after another, portable artillery pieces and single-shot beam weapons were put into position. Along with the several heavy cannons and dozens of Magical Energy Machine Guns already set up in the stronghold, a complete defensive line was formed in an instant.

With the strength of just two battalions, they would hold their ground here, buying precious evacuation time for the refugees in the stronghold.

…

“Truck three! Can truck three fit any more? I have two children here!”

“Forget your belongings, throw them all away! Don’t bring anything! The trucks can’t fit this many people as it is!”

“Squeeze in… squeeze in more! Let the elderly and children stay in the very back!”

Wood felt as if his throat was on fire; every time he opened his mouth, a searing pain shot through it. He and Holmes heaved an earthy-yellow tarpaulin, using it to cover the truck’s open cargo bed. Without a hard metal roof, the tarp, colored like the grassy, sandy plains, would provide the vehicle with maximum camouflage, helping it avoid being spotted by the Winged ones lurking in the sky.

The truck’s open cargo bed, which would have been cramped with just over thirty people, was now holding a record-breaking fifty. They were crammed together like canned goods, with no room for anyone to even sit cross-legged; they could only stand upright.

As the sound of artillery and machine gun volleys rang out from the front, the fully loaded transport convoy finally completed its mission and drove out of the camp in a long, winding procession.

“Static—static—Follow the lead vehicle! Maintain full speed!”

“Don’t fall behind! Watch for obstacles! Static—static—”

The alchemical communicator in the wheelhouse continuously broadcasted orders from the convoy director. Every driver was on high alert, hands gripping their steering wheels tightly, staring intently at the rear of the vehicle in front of them through the gaps in their windows’ steel gun shields.

A bitter, sandy wind whipped across the plains, scraping against the truck’s body with a hissing sound. The tarpaulin over the rear cargo bed flapped and rustled, making Wood, who was in the passenger seat, look back worriedly time and again.

“Hold on to the handrails in the cargo bed! Watch out for bumps! Protect the children and the elderly!”

A woman squeezed into the very back of the cargo bed held a weakening child tightly in her arms. She looked at Wood through the wheelhouse’s rear window and pleaded cautiously, “Sir… could you please spare a sip of water for the child? We were told to throw everything away when we boarded…”

Without the slightest hesitation, Wood unhooked the canteen from his waist and was about to pass it back…

The truck suddenly slammed on its brakes. The wheels screeched as they slid across the sandy grass. The refugees in the back cried out in alarm, and the canteen clattered into the gap between the wheelhouse and the cargo bed.

What was going on…

Wood looked back at Holmes and saw him frowning deeply, wrenching the steering wheel hard to the right. The truck practically fishtailed, swerving in a wide arc at full speed to avoid the obstacle ahead.

Looking closely… it was a small military vehicle, responsible for guiding the convoy, that had flipped over on the ground!

Two soldiers from St. Valen crawled out of the vehicle and, without a moment’s hesitation, took cover behind it and began firing their guns at the sky.

At almost the same instant, the communicator crackled to life—“Static—static—All units, listen up! A small group of enemy Winged ones is in pursuit! Maintain formation and keep moving!”

Those non-human monsters… they were really coming after them!

Forgetting everything else, Wood put his helmet back on and stuck his head out the window. Back where the vehicle had just crashed, several military vehicles were speeding toward it, and a few soldiers leaped out of their own vehicles to begin a rescue.

In the distant sky, dozens of black shapes were rapidly approaching, swarming toward the convoy. A thick red beam of light shot down from the horizon, striking the grassland and kicking up a massive pillar of sand and dust.

The non-human races had their own means of long-range attack. The military vehicle that had just flipped over was likely struck by something like that, causing it to suddenly crash while driving at high speed.

After a few gunshots, several of the monsters flapped their wings and fell from the sky, but the enemy’s attention was not diverted in the slightest. They ignored the soldiers completely, flying right past them and heading straight for the convoy.

They were after the refugees on the trucks!

Chapter 732: A Narrow Escape

Listening to the constant warnings from the communicator, beads of sweat dotted Holmes’s forehead. The accelerator was floored, and the entire convoy had pushed their speed to the absolute limit, yet the pursuers behind them were still gradually closing in.

The things flying in the sky were, no matter what, faster than those running on the ground…

Wood frequently looked back, his voice trembling. “What do we do? They… they’re about to catch us!”

Unperturbed, Holmes stared fixedly ahead and said in a low voice, “Don’t worry about that. Check the power core for me!”

Wood used his foot to slide the driver’s seat back slightly, then lifted the panel beneath it. The alchemical core, fused with a pack beast’s soul, was securely mounted directly below the wheelhouse.

A drop of sweat slid from the tip of his nose. The moment it touched the core’s metal casing, it instantly vaporized into a wisp of smoke. Wood knew the surface temperature of this alchemical instrument was probably high enough to fry an egg, and he dared not touch it to feel its condition.

“The temperature is very high… It’s probably at its limit.”

“Activate the water-cooling system and cool the core down!”

Wood froze, anxious. “Cool it down now? The vehicle’s speed will drop!”

“It’s better than it overloading from the heat and blowing the whole vehicle sky-high!”

Taking a deep breath, Wood pulled the cooling lever. A metal pipe connecting the water tank to the core opened, and a large amount of thick white steam was vented from ducts on the side of the wheeled vehicle.

At the same time, the other vehicles in the speeding convoy all made the same choice. The speed of the entire convoy dropped in unison. Through the rear-view mirrors mounted on either side of the vehicle, they could now clearly see the figures of the Winged ones flapping their massive wings.

The temporarily recruited vehicle crew members hadn’t been equipped with any weapons for self-defense. Wood looked around and, following a glance from Holmes, pulled a thick, long crowbar from the toolbox in the wheelhouse. Gripping it tightly in his hand, he felt a great deal more at ease.

Before they set out, the officer who had assembled them had said that if they encountered the enemy during the mission, the combat duties would still be handled by the Northern Army soldiers escorting them back. These men fought the non-human races frequently and should have been well-prepared for this kind of sudden situation.

He and Holmes just had to follow the plan, focus on driving the wheeled vehicle, and not fall behind or crash.

…

“Can’t you go any faster?” The Son of Flame flung open the hatch of the airship gondola, slapping the chair and urging him on.

Michel, dizzy from the sudden blast of fierce wind, said with a pained expression, “Mr. Hoden… oh, no, Colonel! This is a patrol airship, not a high-speed airship. If we go any faster, the power core won’t be able to take it!”

Just taking off in a sandstorm had been difficult enough. Merely relying on the communicator’s directions to maintain formation was already testing Michel, a “seasoned” airship pilot. Having lost his usual superior field of vision, he had to concentrate fully on maneuvering just to barely avoid getting lost in the sand-and-cloud-filled sky.

“Ground forces have sent a distress call. They said several squads of Winged ones have broken through the defense line to harass our temporary outpost in the rear. It’s full of unarmed ordinary refugees right now. The handful of Army soldiers from the battalion headquarters there… they can’t stop them from starting a slaughter without anti-air support.”

Michel, unlike a high-rank Spellcaster, couldn’t expose his mortal body to the high altitudes and rely on a mana shield to keep from losing body heat rapidly. The fierce headwind from their high speed also made it impossible for him to speak. After struggling to close the hatch, he explained in a hoarse voice, “The Aerial Combat Mages on reconnaissance have already found them. Those damned monsters didn’t linger at the outpost; they went straight after the convoy evacuating our refugees.”

The Son of Flame nodded, suppressing his frustration and patiently saying, “We can’t let them catch up to the convoy. The escorting soldiers can’t hold them off. Once they engage, the refugees will suffer heavy casualties.”

He himself had issued the order to the Highland City garrison to organize a transport team to rescue the refugees. Therefore, ensuring the safe return of these refugees and the vehicle crew was a responsibility he had to bear.

As the two were talking, a message suddenly came through the communicator from a comrade up ahead on reconnaissance. “Attention! We have a visual on the evacuation convoy. They… the Winged ones are closing in. Descend now! Prepare to engage!”

The Son of Flame was overjoyed. Before Michel could even react, he had already thrown the hatch open again and charged out.

Dozens of airships swooped down from the clouds in a diving maneuver. The vision of all the Aerial Combat Mages was instantly restored. On the yellow-green patchwork of the ground below, a convoy was speeding forward, kicking up clouds of dust. Over a hundred Winged ones followed close behind. One after another, escorting military vehicles deliberately slowed down and fell to the rear, the soldiers aboard raising their guns and firing back, locked in a back-and-forth exchange with their pursuers.

The Rapid-fire Magical Energy Guns, after all, had limited power. No matter how precise the soldiers’ marksmanship was, it couldn’t stand up to the enemy’s retaliatory blast of concentrated red light. Many military vehicles were hit one after another, either losing balance and tumbling into the grassy ditches or exploding directly into a searing cloud of fire.

As the airships adjusted their diving trajectory, they gradually aimed their mounted Magical Energy Machine Guns and Beam Weapons at the enemy. Once the top-down assault began, the low-flying Winged ones would find it difficult to evade.

Before the order to fire was even given, the few high-rank casters who had been the first to exit their airships, led by their Commander, the Son of Flame, launched an aerial charge unique to battle mages.

In an instant, streams of magical light of various colors flashed across the sky. Scorching Fire Missiles, Frost Blades, and Arcane Blasts cut through the enemy ranks with lightning speed. Several Winged ones had no time to react before they were hit head-on. A rain of blood immediately fell from the sky.

The surprise attack was effective. The Winged ones who came to their senses immediately scattered. The few at the very front continued to hound the convoy, ceaselessly lobbing black water and red light, while the rest turned around and unhesitatingly met the reinforcing Air Squad.

The airships quickly met them head-on in the sky.

The Magical Energy Machine Guns and Beam Weapons roared to life simultaneously, and in just a few dozen seconds, they mowed down the non-humans as if with a scythe.

In an encounter of this scale, there was almost no question as to which way the scales of victory would tip. The Aerial Combat Mages held absolute dominance.

Michel released the firing button on his weapon and craned his neck to look down. He saw the Son of Flame and the other high-rank casters quickly catching up to the few stubborn enemies still harassing the convoy. After just two rounds of spell bombardment, they were completely wiped out.

Ksshh—ksshh— “All pursuit targets have been eliminated. Do we need to continue escorting the convoy’s retreat?”

“Hmm… have a few airships follow them to ensure it’s completely foolproof. The rest of you, return to the Sinking Mulberry Valley position immediately.”

Chapter 733: Confidence and Assurance

The last of the Winged ones was blasted head-on by a spell from a high-level Mage. Half its body was blown to pieces as it plummeted to the ground.

Wood could even see it with his own eyes in the rearview mirror—the monster crashed onto the grass, sending a spray of thick, black blood into the air. Its mangled body tumbled over several times before coming to a stop, its slender, twisted limbs and tattered, fleshy wings scattering in all directions.

Without a doubt, the Northern Army’s aerial reinforcements had arrived just in time. Whether it was the floating Airships that far outsped the Winged ones, or the high-rank wizards who could soar through the sky with their bodies alone, they all showed an overwhelming advantage when dealing with these terrifying non-human monsters, as if they were born to fight them.

While receiving his accelerated driver training at the border, Wood had happened to get a copy of a publication printed in St. Valen called The Starfire Weekly from a local trainee. Although his vocabulary wasn’t very large, he could still make out numerous reports on the front page about the Valen people’s battles against the non-human races.

In the numerous battles, large and small, between the Northern Army and the Demonic Lizardmen, they could be said to have been virtually undefeated… At first, Wood had thought it was just exaggeration by the Emperor and the nobles to boast of their military achievements, but now he saw it was absolutely true.

The Valen people… truly possessed the strength to defeat these terrifying non-human races.

And after completing this harrowing but ultimately safe rescue mission… he too would officially become one of them.

At this thought, an indescribable sense of pride and hope surged through Wood’s heart.

…

The rescue mission in Sinking Mulberry Valley concluded with the loss of only three military wheeled vehicles and a few dozen soldiers unfortunately killed or wounded while covering the retreat… In terms of the casualty ratio, it was a satisfactory victory.

The Aerial Combat Mages and ground troops dispatched to the Sinking Mulberry Valley area not only successfully annihilated a small band of Demonic Lizardmen that had been rampaging there, eliminating nearly three thousand enemy targets, but also safely evacuated more than two thousand refugees from the Shengsang Prefecture area to the south, preventing these stranded, innocent people from being slaughtered by the non-human race and losing their lives in vain.

Upon returning to Highland City, the transport convoy quickly refueled and rendezvoused with other convoys arriving from different transport depots. The vast procession then set off for the Wolf Fang Ridge border.

After a grueling journey of a day and a night, they finally passed through the border crossing on the afternoon of the third day, officially entering St. Valen territory.

“Uncle! Uncle Wood!”

Wood had just stepped down from the wheeled vehicle, his legs so weak they buckled, when his nephew, Jacob, who had been waiting for him in the refugee camp, rushed forward and threw his arms around him in a big hug.

“I thought you weren’t coming back…”

Nearby, Holmes, equally pale and unable to hide his exhaustion and fatigue, gulped down water and laughed heartily. “How could that be? Your uncle and I were on a mission with the army. Don’t you know how powerful the Northern Army is?”

Wood gazed at the wheeled vehicle that had been his constant companion for days as Logistics soldiers, who had come to take it over, slowly drove it away. A reluctant expression appeared on his face. “This mission was indeed very smooth… We returned completely unscathed and even saved many of our fellow Plainsmen. Jacob, you should be proud of me.”

He paused, looking at his nephew’s young face, and reminded him in a low voice, “From now on… from now on, we’ll be Valen people too. Once we get our official residency, don’t go around telling people you’re a Plainsman, and don’t mention our Isengard background, understand?”

Jacob nodded, a little confused, but couldn’t help asking, “I’ve been asking about you these past few days. I heard those officers say… that most of the refugees will be taken to Greentarn County and Pinecone County near the border to farm the land for His Majesty the Emperor?”

Wood grinned and patted his nephew’s shoulder proudly. “If we hadn’t joined the transport corps, we’d be just like them… But things are different now. I’m going to officially join the kingdom’s government and become a full-time driver with a contract. And you… you’ll be attending a public academy. Maybe one day you’ll become a well-read scholar of outstanding intelligence!”

Holmes, who had been eavesdropping nearby, snorted with laughter and couldn’t help teasing, “Weren’t you just fantasizing two days ago about sending this kid to the academy to graduate and be recruited into the Maintenance Center as an alchemy technician? How did he turn into a scholar in the blink of an eye?”

Wood’s face instantly turned beet red… He said he wanted Jacob to become a scholar, but his true inner thought was that after witnessing the heroic figures of those combat wizards fighting the non-human races a few days ago, he had secretly planted a seed of hope that his nephew might one day walk that extraordinary path where wisdom and power coexist.

But he had just promised to renounce his religious affiliation, actively forsaking his faith to join St. Valen. The tattooed emblem of a devout follower on his wrist still pricked at his conscience from time to time, and he couldn’t bring himself to encourage Jacob to embark on the “path of heresy.”

…

Soon, the group of drivers who had participated in the Sinking Mulberry Valley rescue mission were led by soldiers back to the army garrison.

The same officer who had been in charge of their temporary recruitment came forward.

“Gentlemen, thank you for your full cooperation with the military in this rescue operation. The reward we promised before your departure will now be paid out immediately.”

As he spoke, an adjutant came forward with a register, recording the drivers’ identification numbers and work codes one by one, so that the promised bonus stipend could be deposited into their accounts along with their future salaries.

However, the situation for temporarily recruited Isengardians like Wood was a bit awkward… Never mind not having a formal employment contract, they didn’t even have a St. Valen resident identification card, so naturally, they wouldn’t have a savings account with the kingdom’s bank.

The military had to temporarily procure a case of gold yuan banknotes, which were counted out and distributed to them on the spot. At the same time, they notified staff from the Population Management Department to come and expedite their background checks so their identification cards could be issued as soon as possible.

Wood stood frozen on the spot, clutching a stack of colorful “pieces of paper.”

St. Valen gold yuan. For a cartage company like theirs that often transported goods in the border regions, it wasn’t entirely unheard of… but to actually hold the things in his hand still felt unreal.

Could these exquisitely made pieces of paper, printed with intricate patterns, really be used to buy any priced item anywhere in the St. Valen Kingdom?

The officer in charge of disbursing the reward seemed to notice their hesitation and took the initiative to explain, “There is no need to worry about the value and purchasing power of these gold yuan. They represent the absolute authority of His Majesty the Emperor, as well as the credibility and laws of the United Kingdom. As long as you are within the borders of St. Valen and the United Kingdom of the Northern Realm, I guarantee that no one will question the circulation of this legal tender.”

He paused, then continued, “In a while, you will all be sent to the capital to continue your training as full-time drivers. Once you get there… you will witness firsthand what it means to be the most prosperous and flourishing place on the entire southern continent!”

Wood fought to contain his excitement as he listened silently, subconsciously rubbing the gold yuan banknotes in his hand. He then noticed that on a few of the bills, besides the number twenty in the Rioll script common to the south, there was also a lifelike drawing of a brand-new alchemical wheeled vehicle!

Chapter 734: The Price of Deception

A soldier in a black military uniform hurried into the barracks, bowed, and reported to Legion Commander Wayne.

“Major, that Earl Julian… he still refuses to respond to our demands. The Staff Department believes he may be planning to resist stubbornly in a hopeless situation.”

Wayne frowned at once. “When Colonel Hoden passed through Twin Cities, didn’t he swear up and down that he would surrender to us? These damned nobles, not a single one of them tells the truth!”

The independent regiment under Wayne’s command had originally been tasked with advancing to Sinking Mulberry Valley to help the front-line troops consolidate their gains. At the same time, they were to fend off the incessant raids of the Demonic Lizardmen and push the battle line back to the north.

The military orders were urgent and allowed for no delay. Passing through Twin Cities was merely on the way, a chance to check on the evacuation of the refugees from this remote, small city… Who would have thought that the entire city was already completely empty, without a single soul left behind?

What was strange was that the border pass had not received this group of refugees, nor had they seen any sign of the City Lord, Earl Julian.

Because of this, Wayne had no choice but to order the regiment to set up camp and quickly dispatch several reconnaissance squads to scout the area around Twin Cities. After a great deal of effort, they discovered that Earl Julian had taken the entire city’s population and hidden them in the mountains.

The mountain fortress, built in a deep mountain mining area, now stood as a testament to Earl Julian’s unwillingness to surrender… Although the soldier the Northern Army sent to deliver the message was not detained, the Earl refused to meet with him, only having his steward come out to dismiss him quickly.

Standing beside Wayne, Staff Officer Ivan couldn’t help but ask, “Did the messenger clearly convey our intentions? Whether the Earl himself and his confidants wish to evacuate is entirely up to them… but the several thousand civilians in the city, and the equally large number of mine slaves in the Mining Area, we must take them with us!”

The adjutant shook his head. “Obviously, this Earl Julian has no intention of letting them go. His family made its fortune from mining. There’s even a gold mine in the mountains of his fiefdom. Population and labor are of utmost importance to him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have abandoned even Twin Cities to drive the populace into the mountains with him.”

Ivan pondered for a moment. Considering the regiment’s primary mission, he was about to suggest that Wayne set this matter aside for now and prioritize the situation at the front.

But Wayne raised an eyebrow and sneered, “Dealing with this coward who goes back on his word won’t actually take much effort… His Majesty once said that during the Isengard operation, anyone who obstructs us must be eliminated without mercy. There’s no reason to let this fellow disgust us right under our noses.”

With that, he ordered his adjutant, “Notify the Second and Third Battalions. Tonight, they will enter the mountains and deal with those nobles who are resisting stubbornly. The rest of the main force will break camp with me immediately and continue advancing toward Sinking Mulberry Valley!”

Wayne’s tone was casual, as if he were swatting a mosquito, but Ivan still couldn’t help asking, “Then… what about the rescued civilians and mine slaves? How should they be settled?”

“Immediately notify the Wolf Fang Ridge pass and have them send people over to receive them. That should solve it.”

…

As evening approached, a sudden storm swept through the entire mountain area. The months-long drought since spring seemed to be finally nourished by this godsent rain.

Only Earl Julian, hiding in the mining fortress, was not particularly happy.

During the day, the Valen people had sent an envoy, once again threatening him to hand over all the civilians and arrange for their southward evacuation to the Wolf Fang Ridge border… That would have been one thing, but then the envoy got an inch and asked for a mile, demanding that the thousand-plus mine slaves from the Earl’s family mines also be evacuated south along with the common people, to seek refuge from the non-human race invasion within St. Valen’s borders.

This was undoubtedly like taking a knife to the Earl’s own flesh… Mine slaves represented the mines’ ore production. Whether it was ordinary brass and hematite, or the gold that directly symbolized wealth, all of it had to be excavated for him, bit by bit, by the manual labor of these slaves who had toiled in the pits for generations.

Handing over the mine slaves was tantamount to destroying his entire family’s future and completely severing the foundation on which the Earl stood.

He would never agree, no matter what.

“These Valen people are even more detestable than those non-human races from the north… Those monsters just invade towns, burn, kill, and pillage for a while, and then they retreat. As long as you hide in the mountains, you can always avoid them… But these people, not only do they want to take away the people under my rule, they even demand the private slaves that belong to the nobility. What a bunch of shameless robbers!”

The steward stood by his side and said cautiously, “St. Valen has already banned human trafficking and trade… I estimate their Emperor plans to gather these foreign slaves to supplement his forces against the non-human races.”

The Earl snorted coldly. Just as he was about to say something, a guard suddenly rushed in from outside the castle hall.

“The Earl! Those Valen people… they’re here again!”

…

The rain poured down in the darkness of the night. Earl Julian, clad in full armor, struggled to climb to the top of the mountain fortress’s wall and cautiously peered down…

Not far from the fortress, nearly a thousand men were quietly assembling. Their ink-black uniforms made them almost merge with the night. If not for the many glowing white magic stone lamps in their ranks, the guards on the wall probably wouldn’t have spotted them even if they had reached the foot of the fortress.

When marching or fighting at night, carrying any source of light that reveals one’s position is highly likely to provide a target for the enemy; archers and crossbowmen or catapults would all launch their attacks toward the source of light… But these Valen people were clearly aware of this, so their army had assembled at a considerable distance. Not only were they out of reach of the fortress’s longbows and crossbow bolts, but even the anti-magic alchemy crossbows set up on the walls were useless against them.

“Have you spotted any wizards?” Earl Julian asked nervously, rainwater trickling past his eyes from his helmet.

“None spotted… The Earl, the people outside all appear to be ordinary mortal soldiers. There’s no sign of those magic sails in the sky either. There shouldn’t be any wizards mixed in with them.”

In charge of guarding the fortress gate were the low-rank Bloodline Warriors in the service of the Julian family. Their innate talents were superior vision and precision with bows and crossbows.

The Earl breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing this, then snorted with a laugh, “Without combat wizards and those magic sails, they plan to force me to submit by storming the fortress with just this handful of troops?”

Of course, the Emperor of St. Valen was someone he couldn’t afford to completely offend.

After a round of mockery, the Earl still said cautiously, “Send someone out to negotiate with them one last time. My end line is to hand over one thousand five hundred people from Twin Cities, plus one thousand Heracles gold coins… If they still refuse, then we can only resist to the end.”

Just as his personal guard descended from the wall, several claps of thunder suddenly boomed in the distance—

In a blur, several incandescent flashes of light suddenly erupted from where the St. Valen army was gathered outside the fortress.

Chapter 735: Thunder on a Rainy Night

The Julian family’s mining mountain fortress was built in a natural pass of a towering mountain range. It was originally intended to guard a gold mine carved deep into the mountainside and had only one heavily guarded entrance.

In the past, the mountain fortress was mainly built to defend against demonic beast incursions from the mountains and the occasional stray vile orcs who wandered down from the Northern Realm during winter. It had rarely ever faced an attack. As a result, the wall at the fortress’s pass was crudely constructed, piled with mountain rocks to a height of not even five meters.

A low-rank Bloodline Warrior could have easily scaled such a wall with a single leap and climb, meaning it offered little in the way of defense.

This was especially true after the Earl had driven all the citizens from the Twin Cities here a few days prior, causing the entire mountain fortress to become overcrowded. Most of the commoners could only be temporarily housed with the mine slaves in abandoned mine pits dug into the cliff face, enduring the cramped, oppressive space and the damp, bone-chilling cold of the rainy night.

The Earl’s private soldiers, who had been stationed here long-term, had seen almost no large-scale combat. When the Northern Army’s portable cannons roared in the rainy night, many of them even mistook the sound for thunder and lightning.

The first to suffer, naturally, were the tall wooden watchtowers on the walls. A solid shot tore through a tower’s fragile body, blowing away most of its base and causing it to collapse with a deafening crash and no warning whatsoever.

Earl Julian, standing on the wall, had not even processed what was happening before the knights attending him realized something was wrong.

A section of the wall several meters away was struck by two shells at the same time. The stone battlements exploded violently, and a spray of shrapnel swept across an entire area. Two guards were blown off the wall before they could even scream. More wounded private soldiers fell to the ground, writhing in agony, many of them having no idea where the attack was coming from.

In the pouring rain, it was impossible to use torches to survey the situation. By the faint light filtering from the buildings behind the fortress, one could see several spots along the low, narrow wall—less than fifty meters long—erupting into chaos after the thunderous blasts.

The Earl was also forcibly escorted off the wall by his knights amidst the confusion. He had just started to call for an attendant to bring his warhorse when another bolt of rainy thunder, accompanied by a sharp whistle, tore through the air above. The stables, more than ten meters away, collapsed in the roar. The concussive blast blew the roof off, and the dozen or so horses tethered inside were torn to bloody shreds—a truly gruesome sight.

“Heretic wizards! It must be those heretic wizards!” Earl Julian was aghast, his eyes darting around as he bellowed, “Those damned Valen people! They must have sent wizards to sneak in and attack us with spells from the shadows!”

“Quick! Send the Bloodline Warriors to search the entire mountain fortress! We must find those damned heretics! They’re useless in close combat. If we surround them, they won’t be able to escape!”

The old Steward had also scrambled down from the wall. He grabbed the Earl’s sleeve and said, his voice trembling, “My lord… don’t… don’t open the fortress gate! Don’t charge them! That thunder… it’s St. Valen’s magical weapons!”

His warning was clearly too late. The Earl’s orders and his promise of a handsome reward had already made a small group of fierce and unafraid of death private soldiers too impatient to wait. Without even waiting for the Chief Knight’s permission to attack, they opened the fortress gate and charged, howling, toward the St. Valen troops waiting in formation seven or eight hundred meters away.

Then, through the sound of the rain, Earl Julian heard a rhythmic rat-a-tat sound. The disorderly group of charging private soldiers was cut down like wheat, falling to the ground in neat rows. Through the wide-open fortress gate, he could clearly see several orange-red pillars of fire erupting violently from the Valen army’s formation, an invisible scythe of death sweeping across the battlefield.

The knights, who had managed to assemble amidst the chaos, also charged out. However, they only advanced a little farther than the infantry before them. They lasted less than thirty seconds before they and their warhorses collapsed under the rhythmic rat-a-tat and the pillars of fire.

For a time, the sounds of thunder and rain mingled. Men and horses were sent flying inside and outside the mountain fortress. The horrific wails of the wounded could be heard everywhere, punctuated by the whistling of shells overhead, followed by sudden explosions in the rear. Buildings and walls were on the verge of collapse, and terrified commoners and mine slaves were heedlessly rushing out of the mine pits…

Earl Julian felt his head buzzing, his tottering body held up only by the strained efforts of his attendants. Inside his exquisite, ornate plate armor, he was drenched in a sticky, cold sweat. It was as if he could no longer hear what the old Steward was shouting at him.

“My lord… we… we must retreat to the back of the mine! Those… those soldiers from St. Valen are advancing on us!”

It wasn’t that the Earl hadn’t anticipated the formidable combat strength of the Valen people… He just hadn’t imagined that these mortal soldiers, numbering just under a thousand and without a high-rank wizard leading them, could so easily breach his heavily defended mountain fortress. They were clearly just mortals, so how could they control such powerful and strange magical weapons?

The sudden battle had come and gone in a flash. It was already nearing its end in less than half an hour, extinguishing any last ember of resistance in the Earl’s heart.

He finally understood the true meaning of the veiled threat that the visiting envoy had conveyed to him through the Steward during the day.

【Please inform His Lordship the Earl that making an enemy of the United Kingdom and His Majesty the Emperor… will be the single most regrettable decision of his life.】

Another bolt of heavenly fire thundered into the fortress, jolting the Earl from his chaotic thoughts.

“Quick! Quick! Open the fortress gate! Announce our surrender to the Valen people! Everyone lay down your weapons! If you don’t want to die, stop resisting!”

…

A young officer, no more than in his early thirties, strode into the main hall of the mountain fortress.

Earl Julian no longer dared to sit high in the seat of honor. He had removed his sidearm and armor and stood at the entrance wearing only a knight’s under-tunic, his expression a mixture of complexity and trepidation.

As the squad of Valen soldiers swaggered toward him, he noticed that although they wore ink-black cotton uniforms, the cloak-like outer garments they casually took off seemed to be waterproof. Despite having just fought a battle in a downpour, their inner uniforms were still dry and clean. Aside from their leather boots and trouser legs, there was no sign of them being soaked.

The young officer spoke first, his tone exceptionally calm. “Your Lordship, if you had cooperated from the start, you wouldn’t have had to suffer such tragic losses…”

Although there was no hint of ridicule in his words, the Earl felt a profound sense of shame… For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond.

The old Steward, whose face had been grazed by shrapnel from an artillery bombardment, clutched his freshly bandaged wound and hurried forward, speaking with a humble attitude, “Please forgive us… In consideration of the fact that we did not resist stubbornly, Your Excellency, could you grant us the respect and treatment due to defeated nobles?”

The officer gave a slight chuckle and said coolly, “With the non-human race as our great enemy, we have no intention of infighting or slaughtering our own… Back in the Twin Cities, Colonel Hoden made it very clear to The Earl what our purpose here is… to evacuate as many people as possible who are about to be affected by the war. Whether they are town commoners, freeman farmers, slaves, or tenant farmers, they are all on the evacuation list.”

He paused, glancing sideways at the Earl, and continued, “Of course, nobles and members of the Church are the exception… You need only cooperate in letting the people go. The army will not take any of your property or supplies. Whether you renounce your title and church affiliation to pledge fealty to St. Valen is entirely up to you.”

Chapter 736: Speculating on Attitudes

Reeling from the sudden blow, Earl Julian caught on quickly. As soon as the officials from St. Valen arrived at the Wolf Fang Ridge border, he began the relocation of the populace by the book.

He even voluntarily relinquished dominion over his family knights and private soldiers, handing complete control of Twin Cities’ affairs to the government officials from St. Valen. Aside from carefully preserving the wealth his family had accumulated for generations, he coveted nothing else.

Undoubtedly, among the choices Battalion Commander Wayne had given him, the Earl had wisely decided to evacuate with the city’s entire population… Twin Cities was simply too close to the Sinking Mulberry Valley. Even a single squad of the Demonic Lizardmen’s Winged ones breaking through the human army’s defensive lines could reach this remote mountain city in no time and ravage it with ease.

Of course, there was still a fundamental difference between voluntarily submitting and being forced to surrender. Although Earl Julian did not resist stubbornly to the end, his earlier stance meant that after formally joining the United Kingdom, he could not leap into the kingdom’s power structure like Baron Peyton and secure a position with the real power to govern a territory.

Since St. Valen had completely abolished the noble enfeoffment system, according to the supreme laws of the kingdom… the Earl and his family, whether they remained in Isengard or not, would lose ownership of their fiefdom. All that would remain was an empty title, preserved as an honorary rank to be passed down through the generations.

The Earl, who had long anticipated this, could only accept the arrangement with a bitter smile… After all, to have preserved the lives and wealth of his family was already a great fortune. Any further ambitions might only invite danger.

…

Wayne, who was on his way to Sinking Mulberry Valley, soon received news from Twin Cities. He sneered, “When you think about it, the nobles of Isengard are much cleverer than the ones from St. Valen. Not only are they used to being opportunists… but they’re also exceptionally good at hedging their bets to protect their interests to the greatest extent possible.”

Staff officer Ivan could faintly detect the dissatisfaction in his words toward these nobles. He added with a smile, “Isengard’s royal family has never been strong enough. The power of the various enfeoffed nobles, big and small, cannot be underestimated. Even in a remote territory like Twin Cities, a border earl’s family could build its fortune and establish itself by relying on a single gold mine.”

A weak royal family inevitably leads to its vassals stirring restlessly and governing independently. Even if the Demonic Lizardmen had not invaded from the north, the Cavalry Kingdom would have soon fallen into prolonged internal turmoil, with its people living precariously, displaced by the flames of war.

Wayne sighed and complained in a low voice, “His Majesty’s attitude toward these foreign nobles is clearly much milder and more tolerant than before… I don’t think this is a good sign. You must know what will happen once too many of these opportunistic fence-sitters flood into the kingdom’s power structure…”

Expressing dissatisfaction with His Majesty’s actions so openly… had it been any other high-ranking military or government official, Ivan, as a staff officer, would have probably made a harsh mental note. But Wayne, a clear loyalist, was different. His words seemed more like self-examination among the Emperor’s inner circle, an expression of concern for the balance of the kingdom’s power structure.

For Wayne, a Battalion Commander, to voice dissatisfaction meant that Commander-in-Chief General Pierce and Deputy Commander Colonel Vaughn shared the same stance. Tracing it further up… one would clearly know the attitude of the Chief State Advisor, His Excellency Astaren.

And Ivan himself, besides his public role as a senior advisor in the General Staff, secretly held the heavy responsibility of a military inspector for the National Security Intelligence Department… Like Wayne, he was a direct subordinate of His Excellency Astaren, a member of the faction absolutely loyal to His Majesty, who advocated for the supremacy of imperial power.

“His Majesty naturally has his own considerations. The military only needs to strictly follow his will. It is not appropriate to get too involved in other matters.”

This was a blatant hint to Wayne that soldiers should not get too involved in politics. Once caught in the political quagmire at the center of power, it would be easy to bring disaster upon oneself.

Wayne, accustomed to “doing the dirty work” in the army, was naturally far more astute than the typically rigid and orderly Vaughn and Dav. He instantly understood the staff officer’s warning and wisely shut his mouth.

…

Wolf Fang Ridge, at the border pass.

A young official in a dark blue uniform, holding a file, approached the travel-worn Earl Julian and said, “Your Lordship, I am Dave, a deputy director from the United Kingdom’s Population Management Department, responsible for border population relocation.”

As he spoke, he quickly flipped through the documents in his hand. “We have already conducted an emergency check of your identity information. Baron Peyton of Wolf Fang Ridge has also volunteered to be your guarantor. Therefore, you and your relatives will be able to smoothly obtain official residency in our country, and you won’t be restricted to a fixed place of residence.”

Not restricted to a fixed residence… which meant that since his old fiefdom was gone anyway, he could live wherever he pleased in St. Valen.

The Earl naturally understood. He gave a bitter smile before speaking, “My lord Dave, if I wish to move my family to the capital for long-term residence, are there any additional requirements or restrictions?”

Dave looked up, sizing up the Earl with some surprise. He paused for a moment before forcing a smile and saying slowly, “That’s understandable. Although nobles have lost their right of enfeoffment, they still naturally crave to be close to the kingdom’s center of power. It’s perfectly normal to have such thoughts… It’s just that for the Earl to move such a large family, the living expenses might be a bit too high.”

According to the Julian family’s registration documents, the Earl himself had five direct children, and his extended relatives numbered over thirty. Adding his personal guards, attendants, and family knights, the total came to nearly one hundred people… To relocate them all to the capital, Starfire City, the cost of just their basic necessities would be an astronomical figure.

The Earl, who had felt aggrieved the entire journey, suddenly found his spirit. With an attitude that was both proud and polite, he said, “Sir Dave, please do not underestimate the foundation and strength the Julian family has built over generations. My ancestors were also founding nobles who rose through military merit. Although long years of peace have caused their descendants’ martial prowess to wane, we have not fallen behind in the accumulation of wealth… I intend to go to the capital to personally pledge fealty to His Majesty the Emperor and, at the same time, purchase an earl’s manor adjacent to the Imperial Palace. From then on, I will live out my days quietly in retirement in the legendary City of Miracles.”

Pfft—

The clerk standing behind Dave couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“An earl’s manor?” Dave almost lost his composure as well. “Your Lordship, in the Northern Realm’s capital, every inch of land is worth its weight in gold. Even Lord Rainer, the Premier of State Affairs, whom His Majesty considers a trusted confidant, lives in a private villa of no more than one hundred square meters with three floors… The vast majority of officials with real power maintain a low profile; some even still live in the same brick-and-wood, single-story houses from when the capital was just a pioneer territory.”

He paused, then continued, “And… even if such a manor existed, with your current standing, I’m afraid you couldn’t compete with the native nobles who hold shares in our civilian industries. Forgive my bluntness, but to own a residence in the capital’s inner city, you need more than just vast financial resources. You also need a status and real power commensurate with that wealth.”

Chapter 737: Labor Diversion

The lights in the Emperor’s palace in the capital, Starfire City, burned all night long.

Harvey leaned over his desk, squinting as he carefully read the statistical report submitted by Rainer.

“In less than a month, the border pass at Wolf Fang Ridge has taken in and gathered nearly fifteen thousand refugees from Isengard… Such an outstanding result is something no one could have anticipated.”

Harvey was clearly pleased by this, and Rainer laughed along with him. “Indeed, Your Majesty. It seems the chaos and harm caused by the Demonic Lizardmen in the Cavalry Kingdom have had a widespread impact. Throughout the central and northern regions of Isengard, there is hardly a safe place left for commoners to live. The transport stations we built leading to the border receive large numbers of people fleeing south almost every day.”

Harvey nodded in satisfaction. “At this rate, the Department of State will complete its goal of a fifty-thousand population increase before the end of autumn.”

Rainer leaned forward, reaching out to turn the page of the thick report for Harvey, but his voice was hesitant. “It’s just that this population explosion, far exceeding our projections, is once again… overwhelming the government departments with the work of receiving and settling them.”

So many foreign immigrants certainly couldn’t all be moved to the capital. For one, the quality of the population was uneven; the vast majority of lower-class commoners had not received any literacy education and had no experience with factory work. A sudden, massive influx into Starfire City would undoubtedly have a huge impact on the capital’s administration and public security.

The United Kingdom’s industries were booming. State-run factories were springing up like mushrooms after rain in various regions, constantly absorbing the labor force from surrounding counties and towns. They competed to offer generous salaries and benefits, attracting large numbers of freeman farmers, now unbound from nobles and land, to swarm into the cities, rapidly transforming from an agricultural population into industrial workers.

And in terms of working environment, salary, and benefits, whether joining a state-run manufacturing plant or accepting recruitment from joint ventures between nobles and the government, the conditions were significantly better than toiling in the fields. Comparatively, very few people were inclined to work on state-run farms.

Although mechanized farming had become widespread throughout the kingdom, a significant improvement over the past’s reliance on beasts of burden and manual labor, the Agriculture Department was still full of complaints whenever they needed to recruit skilled farmers for land reclamation, constantly asking the Department of State for more people.

Conversely, the group of “The Rootless People” who had been “brought in” from Isengard had obediently accepted the government’s arrangements. They settled down to farm peacefully in the area around Fengyuan City in the central kingdom, where the land was most fertile. This was something Harvey had not anticipated at all.

“So, this time, in receiving the refugees from Isengard, the Department of State’s idea is… to assign them as much as possible to the Agriculture Department, settling them in the kingdom’s various grain production bases to first and foremost supplement the much-needed agricultural labor force.”

“That’s a viable method…” Harvey nodded, then looked up at the kingdom map hanging on the wall. “We must not let too many refugees gather in the border regions. We can start settling them in batches now… Looking at the nearby options, Greentarn County, which is closest to Wolf Fang Ridge, is a good choice.”

Rainer grinned smugly; clearly, he had once again anticipated Harvey’s thoughts.

“One of our planned settlement locations is indeed Greentarn County…”

Back when Harvey officially ascended the throne, the Earl of Clearwater, whose fiefdom was in Greentarn County, had sized up the situation and taken the initiative to pledge his allegiance. Not only did he decisively relinquish his already small military authority, but he also rushed to the capital with his family members and vassals to personally swear fealty to Harvey. Since then, he had resided peacefully in Starfire City and was now one of the shareholders in the United Kingdom’s Import and Export Company, responsible for the management of civilian ironclad cargo ships.

As for the large number of residents “abandoned” by their lord in Greentarn County, with no one to deliberately guide them, they too began to migrate on their own accord toward the central part of the kingdom, pouring into the areas of Three-Forks Town and Grizzly Keep, becoming the next wave of industrial workers.

This led to the already sparsely populated Greentarn County having large tracts of farmland left fallow and abandoned. When government officials went to take over the Earl of Clearwater’s fiefdom and properties, they were shocked by the desolate state of the area.

“The land in Greentarn County isn’t poor. Why are our own people unwilling to stay there, choosing instead to leave their homes and migrate in large numbers?” Harvey had never personally been to the eastern region of the kingdom, so he had always found it puzzling.

Rainer immediately explained patiently, “Your Majesty, in your daily meals, have you ever partaken of a fine wine called Clearwater?”

“Oh? I haven’t noticed… It sounds like this wine is named after the Earl of Clearwater himself?” Harvey raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued.

“Indeed… Greentarn County was once famous for producing high-quality wine!”

The Earl of Clearwater’s family even owned a vast winery estate in their fiefdom, continuously selling the fine wine they produced throughout the south… and their family’s wealth rapidly accumulated as a result.

Harvey suddenly understood. “Because they produced fine wine that sold well in the south, successive Earls of Clearwater focused their attention solely on wine production and brewing. As a result… the surrounding freeman farmers and tenant farmers, who originally grew grain, had no choice but to switch to cultivating grapes, whether by force or by their own volition. A large amount of farmland was thus converted into vineyards?”

No wonder Greentarn County had always relied on importing grain from other regions… This had given Harvey the false impression that the local land was poor and grain yields were low.

“Have the Agriculture Department quickly reorganize the land there, restore the vineyards to farmland, and then resettle the population according to the scale of the fields. The corresponding support systems must also be put in place… We can’t let these refugees, who have just escaped the scourge of a non-human race, be left exposed to the elements in our country.”

Rainer quickly replied, “The Construction Department and the Agriculture Department arrived in Greentarn County at almost the same time a month and a half ago. All support work is in full swing. At the very least, we can ensure the residential areas are completed in a short time, so they won’t be without a place to stay.”

Of course, besides Greentarn County, the area around Fengyuan City, the kingdom’s core grain-producing region, also needed a timely supplement of its agricultural population. The area around Black Mountain Port, south of Three-Forks Town, also had a large amount of fertile farmland awaiting cultivation, which required dispatching immigrants to settle.

The two discussed back and forth in the office for a long time before finally coming up with a reasonably satisfactory diversion plan.

…

“I heard Astaren casually mention yesterday that besides the busy work of receiving refugees, quite a few hilarious anecdotes have occurred at Wolf Fang Ridge.”

Having shifted out of his absolutely rational work mode, Rainer began to chat idly with Harvey.

“A border noble from Isengard, a fellow who seems to go by Earl Julian… actually had the audacity to tell the officials from the Population Management Department that he planned to use his family’s vast wealth to purchase an earl’s manor in the capital. Hahahaha!”

Pfft—

Harvey nearly spat the hot tea he was drinking all over his desk. He raised an eyebrow and chuckled, “An earl’s manor? Just how sheltered is this country bumpkin to make such a bold claim?”

Although Starfire City had undergone three rounds of expansion, its area having multiplied several times over since its days as a pioneer territory, it was still a place where land was scarce and extremely expensive. Even Harvey, the Emperor, was too embarrassed to ask for an expansion of the Imperial Palace. The other high-ranking officials of the various departments at the heart of the nation’s power kept a low profile and lived simply. Often, residing in a small, single-family house in the inner city was enough to signify their distinguished status.

Leaving aside how much money it would cost to buy a plot of land large enough to build a manor in Starfire City, as a foreign noble with no real power, even if he were allocated a piece of land, he probably wouldn’t have the ability or the guts to act so ostentatiously.

He was just a border earl… Even Haynes Webster, the Earl of the temporary residence from the old capital, Goldshine City, was still busy running around the capital setting up factories, occasionally showing up at the Commerce Department looking disheveled to plead for preferential policies on worker recruitment…

Chapter 738: Grassland Offensive

Although the refugee relocation plan in the border regions was in full swing, the area was still a great distance from Starfire City. No matter how efficient the Department of State and the Northern Army were, they couldn’t instantly transport people to the capital to replenish the labor shortages.

Fortunately, though only a short month had passed since the operation began, the Northern Army had already established a firm foothold on the border and was gradually pushing north. They had created a strategic depth with a defensive front based in Sinking Mulberry Valley, Redsand City, and Windwhisper Fortress, with Highland City serving as a strategic transit base, and Wolf Fang Ridge as the supply rear area.

Once the southward-fleeing populace successfully crossed this defensive front, they barely needed to worry about the threat of non-human raids. Even if small squads of Demonic Lizardmen occasionally broke through the line, they would be immediately spotted and locked onto by the Northern Army’s mobile units, who would then annihilate them with utmost speed.

In Isengard, where the beacons of the non-human invasion burned, the powerful neighboring nation of St. Valen had finally organized an effective counter-offensive along the kingdom’s southwestern border. This prompted the desperate refugees, hearing the news, to quickly migrate southwest.

…

Meanwhile, the Northern Army’s high command and the General Staff were embroiled in a contentious discussion about their next course of action.

The Demonic Lizardmen’s military intentions in Isengard remained unclear. Much like their actions in the Ice Sea Tundra, their persistent goal seemed to be… to slaughter and purge human commoners and burn cities and villages to the ground. When they occasionally encountered armed resistance organized by the nobles, they would commit low-tier Evolved ones, such as Red Lizardmen or the winged species.

Upon achieving victory, they would continue their advance without the slightest pause… They made no move to occupy cities or territory, acting like a swarm of locusts sweeping wantonly across the plains, coming and going like the wind.

Vaughn held up a dark red charcoal pencil and drew a solid diagonal line on the massive map of Isengard. “In my opinion, we cannot rashly advance the front line north of our current positions at Sinking Mulberry Valley, Redsand City, and Windwhisper Fortress… The farther north we push, the vaster the defensive area we must cover, and our forces will become correspondingly dispersed. While the Abyssal Sea Chart allows us to know in advance where the enemy will surface from their submerged travels, we can never match their mobility. We’ll risk becoming overextended.”

With a total of just over six thousand troops in two battle groups, establishing a tight defensive line in the vast Cavalry Kingdom was already a difficult proposition. The wide, flat plains offered little in the way of terrain advantage, meaning most engagements were encounter battles and pursuits. It was nearly impossible to entrench themselves and wait at ease for an exhausted enemy.

Pierce, facing his old subordinate, voiced his clear opposition. “Isengard is the only breach through which the Demonic Lizardmen have broken the Spine of the Continent Mountains’ defense line to fully invade the south. Compared to the Ice Sea Tundra, which is nearly five hundred kilometers away, they are much closer to us here in the Cavalry Kingdom… If we don’t push the front line north and drive them completely back beyond the Spine of the Gods Mountains, I fear the Great Chasm will become their future main axis of attack. Numerous Floating Island fortresses will turn back from the Ice Sea and end up appearing over these plains.”

If that were to happen… St. Valen’s northeastern border would be in danger of being breached by a concentration of non-human forces.

This was a situation His Majesty the Emperor would absolutely not permit. To engage the enemy from a great distance, to fight them beyond our borders… this had to be the goal the Northern Army consistently pursued and achieved. If the battle were to spill across the border, all the high-ranking officers present at today’s meeting, including Commander Pierce himself, would find it hard to escape the blame.

“The effective range of the defensive front can be flexibly shrunk or expanded… but Highland City is our strategic transit hub, and it must remain in our hands no matter what. The Staff Department recommends that Highland City be directly expanded into a military fortress on par with the Ice Sea Base, to serve as a permanent fortification for a long-term garrison in the future.”

With Astaren absent, the General Staff was represented by Dickinson and several other Senior Advisors. Their proposal was, by contrast, more far-sighted and meticulously planned.

It seemed they were posturing for a protracted war against the Demonic Lizardmen in Isengard.

Pierce frowned and said in a grave voice, “The other day, the General Staff proposed to His Majesty… that the railway tracks that currently end at Greentarn County should be extended all the way to the border, and even cross into Isengard to reach Highland City. Do you have any idea how much manpower the Northern Army would have to expend to fortify the defenses along that railway? Isn’t this just making trouble for us?”

The area of central and southern Isengard is filled with rivers and lakes, unlike the mix of desert and grassland in the northwest… And since the Demonic Lizardmen rely on the connections between underground rivers and surface water systems for their military operations, launching a surprise attack on tracks laid across the vast plains would be child’s play for them.

Vaughn said in surprise, “Build the railway into Isengard? Isn’t that a terrible investment? We still don’t know if the Demonic Lizardmen plan to make the Cavalry Kingdom their main axis of advance to the south. If we pull our troops out later, it’s not like we can take the tracks with us.”

“Leave them for the grassland nobles who return to their fiefdoms after the war? Given their foolishness and short-sightedness, I’m afraid they’d just pry up the steel tracks one by one and melt them down into shoddy armor and swords.”

Dickinson and Ross exchanged a look, and Dickinson said pointedly, “We’re not toiling for the benefit of others… His Majesty’s meaning is that with Isengard’s royal family fallen and its bloodline extinguished, since we were the first to dispatch troops to aid and rescue innocent civilians… it is only natural that we will incorporate parts of the grasslands into our jurisdiction in the future…”

As he spoke, Dickinson walked over to the map and tapped the red line Vaughn had drawn. “Therefore, this so-called defensive front… requires our careful consideration and deliberation…”

With the implication laid so bare, how could the high-ranking officers present fail to understand? Chief Administrative Advisor, His Excellency Astaren, had not attended the meeting, but he had subtly conveyed His Majesty’s intentions through the Senior Advisors.

The defensive line the Northern Army established in Isengard was, in fact, the baseline for the territory they would carve out from the Cavalry Kingdom in the future. Pushing north would allow them to claim more land, while contracting south would mean occupying less.

Using the just and legal pretext of sending aid against a non-human invasion, and bolstered by the United Kingdom’s military might—a force powerful enough to dominate the south—it seemed the other human nations would not dare to object to such a blatant annexation of a neighboring country’s territory.

Dickinson couldn’t help but recall a teasing remark made by the Chief, Mr. Astaren, during a secret General Staff meeting a few days prior—

“His Majesty is, after all, the monarch of a nation; at times, he must consider his reputation… He does not wish to be seen as a robber emperor by friendly nations such as Oland, Faros, and Barkley. Therefore, on the matter of annexing Isengard’s territory, we must find suitable reasons and pretexts.”

Chapter 739: The Hunting Rally

Once the scorching late-summer sun dipped below the horizon, the nights in the barren lands immediately turn cold.

Sai Ke shook the bright red blood from his Chainsword, looked up at the sky, and frowned. “The Demon Armor’s energy reserves are low. We need to find a place to spend the night as soon as possible, replenish our magical energy… and then rest for the night.”

Only after truly venturing deep into the uninhabited barren lands did Sai Ke personally understand just how harsh the trials of this field training exercise, originally meant exclusively for Bloodline Warriors, were—

The primeval forest, rarely trodden by man, was filled with deadly dangers, and the temperature difference between day and night was staggering… Moving in Demon Armor during the day was like being stuck in a sweltering steel can; in less than half an hour, one would be drenched in sweat. But once night fell, the plummeting temperatures would rapidly sap all of one’s body heat. Without finding suitable shelter and building a fire, they’d likely fall ill within three days.

For this field training exercise, they had originally set out with the Bloodline Warriors, marching from the River Valley Outpost toward Great Bear Lake, clearing out the scattered vile orc tribes they encountered along the way while learning wilderness survival and combat skills.

But just two days into their journey, the expected conflict between the two groups erupted… There was a subtle mutual disdain between the Bloodline Warriors and the Starfire Warriors, and after a few squabbles, their relationship plummeted to a freezing point. If not for the military law officer accompanying them watching with a cold eye, a full-blown fight would have likely broken out already.

Finally, with the tacit approval of the veteran leading them, the two teams decided to split up and secretly began competing… The journey to Great Bear Lake Base would take about another week, so the Starfire Warriors and Bloodline Warriors started a contest, comparing their records of clearing out vile orc tribes, as well as their speed and efficiency on the march.

The Starfire Warriors, without a veteran to lead them, were at a slight disadvantage.

…

Bale lifted the corpse of a vile orc, which had been severed at the waist, with his foot. He manipulated the Demon Armor’s iron arm to reach out and forcefully pull the hideous, twisted tusk from the dead creature’s face… This served as proof of their kills. Though it seemed primitive and barbaric, it made these new recruits, experiencing real-world combat for the first time, feel fired-up.

“Gregor and his wolf pack have already gone to scout the surrounding area. They should be back soon.”

Sai Ke nodded and began ordering the other warriors to quickly clear the battlefield, marking the location of this temporary vile orc encampment on their roughly-drawn map.

Less than half an hour later, Gregor returned with several new recruits… These Starfire Warriors, who had fused with the souls of Barren Lands Demonic Wolves, seemed to gain a special telepathic ability once they entered the wild—tracking, trailing, scenting, and luring to kill. In combat, their coordination was seamless, just like a true wolf pack, making them the main force of the team.

“East of here, over a mountain ridge, there’s a stone platform on a cliff that’s suitable for us to camp for the night. The nearby water source is clean, and the view is open, making it easy to watch for threats and give early warnings. It’s just that we’re running low on emergency rations…”

Not every seemingly harmless plant or animal in the barren lands could be eaten at will… They had made plenty of mistakes before and learned many hard lessons. In the end, to avoid impacting their marching pace and combat effectiveness, they had simply given up on foraging for food and opted to plunder the vile orcs’ rations instead.

The jerky was smoked dry, and it was impossible to tell what kind of animal it came from. It was cured in bitter, astringent coarse salt and stored in jars, making it nearly impossible to swallow.

Not to mention the cassava tubers, which gave off a faint musty smell and had been stored in sacks for who knows how long. Chewing them was no different from gnawing on wood.

Fortunately, their team of over twenty men included several barren land wanderers from the Northern Realm. Although they were also in their early twenties and lacked extensive experience surviving in the barren lands, they were still much better off than southerners like Sai Ke.

“Chief, this temporary vile orc camp has no extra supplies. I guess they rely on hunting for food too. Should we send a few brothers to check the surrounding area?”

Gregor’s squad had just served as the main force in the cleanup battle and had immediately set off to find a suitable place to camp. Sai Ke couldn’t bring himself to burden them with the responsibility of finding food for the entire team, so he could only look at Bale.

“I’ll go… You guys set up camp first. We’ll be back to meet you in an hour.” Bale rubbed his hands together, slid his Chainsword back into its sheath at his waist, and plunged into the dense forest with a few other warriors.

The rest of the group wasted no more time and headed straight for the eastern mountain ridge, following Gregor’s directions.

…

A campfire was soon lit at the temporary camp on the cliffside platform. A field stove hung over it, bubbling away, but it wasn’t cooking any meat that could quickly restore their stamina… Instead, it was the standard emergency rations issued to the Spec Ops squad—finely ground wheat flour with added sugar and salt.

As expected, the strange, two-meter-long giant lizard that Bale’s squad had hunted was identified by the barren lander warriors. Sai Ke then pulled out his field march manual and checked it repeatedly… The meat of this creature, called a Poisonous Iguana, was inedible. Everywhere on its body, except for the skin, its flesh and blood contained a Paralytic Toxin.

“Do you think… our kill count is already far behind the Bloodline Warriors?” Santas asked Sai Ke in a low voice, staring at the campfire.

Sai Ke shook his head gently. “They are indeed more experienced in the wild than we are, but I don’t think we’re behind them in terms of combat efficiency… Don’t forget, those guys are also rookies who have just awakened their bloodline talents. Compared to us, we’re on the same level.”

Bale came over, scratching his head. “But their extraordinary abilities are innate after awakening. They just need to rest a night to recover fully after a battle. Our reserves of magical energy are limited, and every battle consumes a portion of it… I’m worried that if we keep competing with them in a war of attrition, we won’t have enough magical energy left to reach Great Bear Lake.”

“So you’re saying… we should stop clearing out the vile orcs we encounter along the way and just head for Great Bear Lake Base at full speed?” Sai Ke raised an eyebrow, thinking the proposal seemed feasible.

Gregor nodded in agreement. “I think that’s feasible too. We’ve been fighting too frequently these past few days, and our magical energy is depleting too quickly… Since we can’t beat them in kill count, we might as well win in terms of marching efficiency!”

Winning one of the two competitions would count as a draw in this secret rivalry. It would save the Starfire Warriors’ reputation and give the Instructor some face.

The four squad leaders quickly came to an agreement. They then urged the warriors to eat in shifts before personally equipping their Demon Armor to patrol the area around the camp… Night was the most dangerous time in the barren lands.

According to the field march manual and the Starfire Warrior code of conduct personally compiled by His Majesty, they had to adhere to the “One-Third Principle” when spending the night in the wild—at all times, one-third of the Starfire Warriors in the squad had to be equipped with their Demon Armor and a full set of weapons, remaining in a state of combat readiness.

This was to ensure that in the event of a surprise attack, the soldiers on watch could buy enough time for their comrades to don their armor.

Chapter 740: A Dangerous Signal

The eighth day of the field training exercise had arrived. The Starfire Spec Ops squad, led by the four of them, had advanced to a region just over seventy-five kilometers from Great Bear Lake.

The deeper they ventured into the barren lands, the more these once-inexperienced new recruits felt their own insignificance. The barren lands railway, which had begun construction at the outpost base, had yet to reach this far. Many of the places they arrived at had never been set foot in by humans before. Along their march, they witnessed everything from the ruins of vile orc settlements left behind during their migrations to all sorts of breathtaking continental marvels.

“No wonder the Instructor told us before we left… as Starfire Warriors who have touched upon the transcendent realm, it would be a lifetime of regret not to personally enter the barren lands, to experience the cruelty of the hunt and battle, and the vastness of the world outside the human kingdoms.”

Sai Ke stood beside a gushing mountain ice-fall, murmuring to himself with a somewhat complicated expression.

Bale held up a map, gazing into the distance. After repeatedly checking the coordinates, he made a mark representing an unexplored area.

“I hear that about ten kilometers further north lies a place called the Leru Grand Canyon, where a great war once broke out between the vile orcs and the Demonic Lizardmen. Should we make a detour to check it out?”

Santas glanced down at the map and noticed that the only blank area on the paper was indeed the battlefield ruin in that canyon. He nodded in agreement. “This morning, a floating Airship from the Military Law Department patrolled our temporary camp. I took a chance and asked the military law officer… those Bloodline Warriors have fallen a considerable distance behind us. It will likely take them at least another day to catch up. Maybe we really can go take a look and complete this marching map at the same time.”

It seemed the new Bloodline Warriors had run head-on into a sizable vile orc tribe during their advance and were now in the thick of clearing out its settlement, which would inevitably slow their progress.

According to the requirements of this field training exercise, they only needed to arrive at the Great Bear Lake Base within four days at the latest to be considered successful. By forgoing the slaughter of vile orcs along the way, they had bought themselves an ample amount of time, more than enough to accommodate one last exploration before reaching the base.

It was still early morning. The late summer sun had just crested the mountain peaks, and a thick fog permeated the boundless primeval forest. The only thing visible was a rushing waterway snaking forward, giving them a clear path toward the Leru Grand Canyon.

The field manual contained detailed records of the capital’s Survey Department’s general exploration of the barren lands. During the dry season in winter and spring, large numbers of vile orc tribes would migrate to the Leru Grand Canyon. But during the flood season of summer and autumn, dozens, even hundreds, of water systems like the wide stream before them would converge here, turning the entire canyon grassland into a flooded marsh.

The Spec Ops squad quickly assembled and departed. Activating the power cores of their Demon Armor to full capacity, they reached their destination in less than an hour and a half.

…

The Leru Grand Canyon, which had just experienced a brutal war less than half a year ago, finally revealed itself to the group of Starfire Warriors.

“Whoa! Looks like the battle back then was extremely fierce!” Gregor lifted the faceplate of his Demon Armor, tilted his head back, and twitched his nose, sniffing the lingering scent of decay in the air like a Barren Lands Demonic Wolf.

Sai Ke, however, noticed a skeleton that had been crushed to powder under his heavy armor. The rotten, grayish-black skin still clung tightly to the skull’s surface, and the ferocious fangs were still stained with dark-red blood. “It’s said that the tens of thousands of vile orcs entrenched here were all mercilessly slaughtered by those non-human monsters. Their efficiency is quite a bit more formidable than ours…”

A Demonic Lizardmen army of several thousand, accompanied by the Winged ones, had crushed tens of thousands of vile orcs and completely razed this vast settlement to the ground. It had to be said that from the perspective of bloody brutality, they were indeed every bit as savage as humans, if not more so.

Bale stared blankly at the canyon grassland before him and couldn’t help but mutter, “Such lush, fertile land. Such a naturally suitable place for grazing and farming. If only we could build a few dams to hold back the rivers that converge during the flood season and turn it all into farmland…”

The craving of The Rootless People for oases and fertile fields was always deeply etched into their bloodline. Even though he knew this place was far too remote from human settlements, he couldn’t stop a sliver of wishful thinking from rising in his heart.

Sai Ke, however, nodded with a determined gaze. He pulled the map from his pack and began to sketch. “Don’t lose heart. His Majesty’s grand plan for the Northern Expansion and Eastern Advance includes the entire Northern Barren Lands as far as we can see. Once we’ve completely defeated the Demonic Lizardmen and driven the vile orcs to the Ice Sea Tundra, this place will one day become fertile fields and pastures!”

Santas was growing impatient. He proposed, “Should we split up, each leading a Squad down to… survey the situation in the canyon? I’d like to see how many Demonic Lizardmen were killed by a creature as stupid as a vile orc in that battle. Maybe there are some of their remains nearby.”

Sai Ke hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Don’t go too deep. The canyon is likely full of swamp traps during the flood season. Our Demon Armor is too heavy. If we accidentally get stuck… it could be very troublesome.”

Gregor rubbed his hands together and chuckled. “I’ll take the brothers and clear a safe path for you all first, but the squads shouldn’t get too far apart. We’ll regroup here in an hour.”

With that, he led the few “demonic wolf” warriors beside him and charged down into the canyon without a second glance.

After Bale and Santas had also led their men down from different directions and their figures had completely disappeared from sight, Sai Ke looked away and began to count the remaining warriors staying with him.

“You few, come with me to higher ground. We can map out the terrain of the entire canyon while we’re at it, so we don’t make this trip for nothing…”

…

Not long after they climbed a nearby cliff, a series of urgent footsteps suddenly sounded from below. It seemed a massive demonic beast was stampeding toward them.

But it was one of the “demonic wolf” warriors Gregor had taken with him. He was running so fast that the core heat vents on the back of his Demon Armor were spewing thick white steam.

“Huff—huff— Captain Sai Ke! It’s bad! The Chief found traces of Demonic Lizardmen activity down in the canyon!”

Sai Ke’s heart leaped. There were still Demonic Lizardmen entrenched here? What was their purpose?

Had they already been discovered?

“How many targets? Are there any of the winged species present?”

The “demonic wolf” warrior lifted his faceplate and took a deep breath. Only after he had recovered did he explain, “No… we didn’t see any targets directly. But at the edge of the canyon grassland, there’s a natural stone cave… Inside, we found a large number of discarded black water weapon canisters. They’re all… all empty!”

All empty?

Why would the Demonic Lizardmen gather canisters drained of black water and store them in a cave? Logically, as long as they weren’t killed on the spot, they should have carried their black water tanks back to the Floating Island for resupply…

A thought suddenly flashed through his mind like lightning!

No! Could it be that they’re waiting for a supply station to arrive here? That’s why they left the weapon canisters, to be retrieved when they next return!

That means… a Floating Island fortress of unknown size might be traveling here via submerged travel through the underground rivers of the abyss!

Chapter 741: Shadowy Demonic Traces

“Quick! Fire the flare immediately! Summon all the warriors who went down into the canyon to return and regroup!”

Sai Ke realized the gravity of the situation and sprinted toward the top of the cliff. He also needed to fire a flare to request assistance from the Military Law Department’s floating airships that might be patrolling the area!

Bale was the first to receive the signal and rush to Sai Ke’s side. From a great distance, he saw a pillar of crimson signal smoke rising from the cliff.

“Requesting help from the Military Law Department’s airships here? Are you out of your mind? We’ve deviated from their patrol route by a full twenty to twenty-five kilometers. There’s no way those airships will notice anything unusual here!”

Sai Ke had calmed down by now. Firing a distress signal also meant potentially exposing the Spec Ops squad’s position. Regardless of whether there were Demonic Lizardmen hiding in the canyon below, they shouldn’t linger any longer…

“No need to wait here and gamble on whether the Military Law Department sees our call for help. Let’s return to our originally planned route march training area immediately and find a way to rendezvous with the Bloodline Warrior team coming up from behind!”

Santas also hurried back, panting, and frowned. “What if this turns out to be a huge false alarm? After all, Gregor only found a pile of black water tanks stored in a cave. Who knows if some Demonic Lizardmen just decided to dump them here on a whim?”

Bale raised an eyebrow, hesitating. “So… you’re saying we have to find a way to confirm the authenticity of this intelligence ourselves, and whether there really is a natural waterway in the canyon that would allow a Floating Island to surface?”

Sai Ke gritted his teeth, refastened his mask, and said in a low voice, “That’s right. I was too tense just now. We do need to verify the accuracy of the intel. This is a serious matter… If we falsely report the enemy’s presence, it will cause a huge shock to the nearby Great Bear Lake Base. The Spec Ops squad can’t bear that responsibility.”

Wait! Something’s wrong…

Why hadn’t Gregor returned to regroup with them yet?

Sai Ke turned to the ‘Demonic Wolf’ warrior who had just returned alone to deliver the message and asked urgently, “Is your captain still near the cave with the rest of the warriors?”

“Yes, the Chief told me to hurry back and inform you. He and the other brothers are guarding the cave entrance, looking for any possible enemy traces, to see if they can track them to their hiding place.”

Sai Ke had a bad feeling. He quickly drew the weapon slung on his back and shouted, “Lead the way! They might be in danger…”

Over thirty Starfire Warriors ran at almost full speed, climbing and leaping as they followed the guiding ‘Demonic Wolf’ warrior to the cave. When they were less than a few hundred meters away, they heard the sounds of a fierce struggle coming from the dense forest ahead.

So there were enemies lingering here. Gregor must have run into them and engaged them directly!

Sai Ke abruptly raised a hand, halting the squad’s advance. Then, he exchanged a look with Santas and Bale.

The two understood at once. With a slight nod, they each led their subordinate warriors to sneak toward the flanks of the woods. The sounds of battle weren’t too loud, indicating they hadn’t encountered a large number of enemies…

There was also no sign of winged species fluttering through the sky. It was likely just ordinary Black Lizard warriors.

Right now, the best course of action was to covertly form an encirclement to prevent the targets from escaping mid-battle and reporting back to the enemy’s suspected main base. With their current numbers, they couldn’t possibly withstand an assault from a large enemy force.

…

Gregor flicked his wrist, and the chainsword in his hand revved at high speed. He swung it in a wide arc, slicing horizontally through a Black Lizardman’s waist and cutting it in two. A torrent of thick, blackish-red body fluid, reeking with the stench of rust and blood, gushed out and splattered across the surface of his jet-black Demon Armor.

Another Black Lizardman whipped a black water whip at him from behind. Before the whip could even touch the ‘Demonic Wolf’’s armor, he caught it with a backhanded grip. The Great Strength granted by his overclocked Demon Armor sent the creature stumbling, its body lurching uncontrollably toward Gregor.

Bang—

His repeating shotgun fired almost point-blank against its faceplate. The powerful blast blew more than half its head clean off, sending shattered pieces of its skull flying a great distance.

Nearby, two other ‘Demonic Wolf’ warriors expertly coordinated a pincer attack on another Black Lizardman. Their two chainswords slashed in a crisscross pattern, tearing it to shreds.

The Starfire Warriors, who had fused their souls with those of the Barren Lands Demonic Wolves, were exceptionally skilled at teamwork in field operations. Combined with the squad combat formations they habitually employed, the six of them showed no weaknesses in their defense.

As for the group of over twenty Black Lizard warriors, they had already suffered nearly fifty percent casualties in just a few short minutes of fighting.

An enemy force without mid-to-low-tier Evolved ones like the Red Lizardmen and winged species, when facing the Starfire Warriors who were specialized counters to them in every way, were like a flock of feeble, horned sheep. They looked fierce and aggressive, but they couldn’t even bite through these refined steel ‘canned goods’.

When the last Black Lizardman realized the situation was hopeless and tried to flee alone, Santas, who had long been lying in ambush, lunged out from behind a tree. His sword pierced through its chest, lifting it into the air before he slammed it down in front of him.

Before it could struggle to its feet, he brought his foot down on its swollen, featureless head…

“Where did these guys pop out from? Why are there only ordinary Black Lizardmen? Where are the Red Lizardmen and the winged species?”

Gregor wiped the blood from his sword and pointed to a half-dried, fetid pond next to the cave. His voice was muffled as he said, “Hiding in the water… It seems they ran out of black water and weren’t able to return to the Floating Island in time. Their magic-resistant hides were dehydrating, so they had no choice but to hibernate here.”

But the pond was tiny, so shallow you could see the bottom at a glance. It was obviously not a suitable place for a Floating Island to surface.

Sai Ke couldn’t help but frown. “They were forced to hibernate in the water… That means their resupply Floating Island is too far away. For a long period after their battle with the vile orcs, the Floating Island had yet to reach this place.”

Gregor nodded. “Correct. But they’ve woken up now and attacked us suddenly after we disturbed them… which means the Floating Island is likely already in one of the underground rivers of the abyss nearby.”

But deeper in the canyon, there was nothing but low-lying meadows turned into marshland by the converging waters of the flood season. Wearing their Demon Armor, every step carried the risk of sinking inextricably into the muck, making the Spec Ops squad hesitate to investigate further.

“Before we departed, the only copy of the Abyssal Sea Chart was with the Military Law Department unit assigned to monitor us. We can’t contact them right now, so there’s no way for us to confirm if there’s an underground river channel right beneath us.”

Santas stomped his foot in frustration, complaining in a low voice, “If only we had a Spellcaster with us. Their magical reconnaissance methods could probe underwater and check the situation in the depths…”

Before he could finish speaking, the ground beneath his feet suddenly began to tremble.

It was as if a mighty army was suddenly stampeding through the canyon… Even the birds hiding in the dense forest were startled, flapping their wings and soaring into the sky in droves.

This commotion…

An extremely ominous premonition welled up in Sai Ke’s heart.

“The marsh! The meadow marsh deep in the canyon!”

“Quick, take cover… That muck, soaked and extremely soft from the floodwaters, can’t stop a Floating Island from rising to the surface from an underground river. The Floating Island is probably surfacing right now!”

Chapter 742: Urgent Message

The ground beneath his feet trembled with increasing violence, and an unprecedented sense of crisis gripped Sai Ke’s heart.

His Bloodclaw Bear soul was in a state of shallow fusion with him, and the demonic beast’s innate danger sense told him the situation was dire.

“We can’t stay here. We must retreat immediately… and head for the Great Bear Lake Base to warn the garrison!”

Bale was stunned for a moment, then said in a low voice, “What about the Bloodline Warriors still active nearby? What if they’re drawn in by this commotion from the Floating Island… and stumble upon it by chance?”

Sai Ke raised his hand, gathering all the Starfire Warriors. He shook his head and said, “We can’t worry about that now. We sent the distress signal a long time ago… but the Military Law Department’s airship hasn’t followed it here. It seems they haven’t noticed the situation at all.”

After a brief discussion, they decided to immediately climb back up the cliff along the canyon’s edge. When they reached a high point with a clear view, they were shocked to see that the meadow in the center of the canyon below was completely transformed.

In the flat basin meadow, the large marshland, originally filled with water from the seasonal tides, was gone. All the streams had suddenly been cut off and were flowing backward. The soft, wet earth was churning and rising as a massive object, the size of a castle, slowly broke through the ground.

It was the Demonic Lizardmen’s Floating Island fortress, which had traveled submerged from the depths of the ice sea!

Santas and Gregor stared, stunned. They muttered in unison, “It doesn’t look that big… even smaller than the two small Floating Islands that appeared at Great Bear Lake and the Isengard Great Fissure. I wonder how many Demonic Lizardmen soldiers it’s carrying.”

“The number won’t be less than ten thousand, in any case. Let’s go… If we stay here any longer, the winged species will probably spot us.”

…

Great Bear Lake, Northern Army’s barren lands garrison.

The permanent military base built along the lake was bustling with people, all hurrying about their tasks. A continuous stream of supplies arrived through the long-range teleportation array and was received in an orderly fashion. The materials were then immediately distributed to various units and put to use in the construction of permanent fortifications under the direction of the Logistics and Engineer Corps.

Since the end of the counteroffensive in the ice sea, Vaughn, the commander of the front lines, had been reassigned to the capital. One of the Battalion Commanders, Wayne, had also taken the opportunity to go to Isengard to accept a new combat mission.

Among the high-ranking officers of the Northern Army, only Dav currently remained stationed in the barren lands region. He traveled back and forth between the Ice Sea Base, Great Bear Lake Base, and Snowy Mountain Base, overseeing the military defense preparations at each location.

After Floating Island Number 3, which had appeared at Great Bear Lake, was completely destroyed, the surrounding area had been mostly cleared. Not only had all the fleeing remnants of the Demonic Lizardmen been eliminated, but even the vile orcs that migrated through the area now steered clear and were no longer active.

Although it wasn’t on the primary front line against the non-human enemy, the Great Bear Lake Base still maintained a Level Two state of war preparations around the clock, with a defense level second only to the isolated Ice Sea Base at the forefront.

Dav had just arrived by airship from the Snowy Mountain Base early that morning and immediately began overseeing the deployment of heavy beam weapons at the base without a moment’s rest. He was busy until nearly dusk and hadn’t even had time for a meal.

With old comrades like Vaughn recalled to the rear area, he was the only one left to hold the front line. The tasks he had to manage were especially complex, leaving him no opportunity to relax.

“Battalion Commander, a reconnaissance airship has spotted what appear to be Starfire Warriors on a field training exercise about one and a half kilometers south of the base… They seem to be heading toward Great Bear Lake at full speed.”

A Communications Officer put down the alchemical communicator in his hand, stood up, and reported to Dav, who had just arrived at the command post.

Starfire Warriors? Didn’t they just set out from the River Valley Outpost a week ago?

Dav frowned, puzzled. “Have you verified their identities? They should be traveling with a squad of newly-promoted Bloodline Warriors. It’s unlikely they’d be acting alone. Contact the Military Law Department airship responsible for supervising them along the route for me, immediately.”

The soldier fumbled with the device for a moment, then turned and stammered, “I can’t reach the Military Law Department’s airship… They don’t seem to be in the vicinity of Great Bear Lake.”

The alchemical communicators installed on floating airships had a very limited communication range because they lacked the energy-gathering array’s Magic Net relay system… Once they exceeded a range of fifteen kilometers, they couldn’t establish a cross-planar connection. This was also why the Ice Sea Base needed to relay messages through both the Snowy Mountain Base and the River Valley Outpost to send real-time communications to the capital, Starfire City.

Not traveling with the Bloodline Warriors, and no supervision from the Military Law Department… Where did these Starfire Warriors suddenly appear from? How did they reach Great Bear Lake, the endpoint of their training march, so quickly?

Relying on his vast experience, Dav immediately sensed that something was wrong.

“Quick, have a nearby patrol airship contact them. Send a squad of soldiers to provide support… I’m afraid something has gone wrong with this field training exercise.”

…

Huff… huff…

Sai Ke sprinted, subconsciously gasping for breath. As time went on, the Magicalized Armor on his body felt heavier and heavier.

Fully activating the Demon Armor’s power core placed the warrior and their Beast Soul in a deep state of fusion. Normally, this would make them one with their armor, allowing them to move and fight with the armor as if it were one’s own arm.

But after nearly six hours of a long-distance, high-intensity run, the Demon Armor’s energy was on the verge of depletion… After the last reserve power supply they’d swapped in was also quickly exhausted, the remaining, relatively short distance could only be covered by sheer willpower.

Waves of exhaustion originating from the depths of their souls assaulted the minds and bodies of Sai Ke and the others. Although no one spoke a word during the journey, their speed had clearly dropped several notches, and people gradually began to fall behind, unable to keep up.

“The coordinates should be correct. We’re only a few kilometers from Great Bear Lake. Hopefully, we’ll run into a reconnaissance patrol in the area.”

Bale was finding it difficult to even open his mouth to speak. As he sprinted, dodging and weaving around obstacles, he came face-to-face with a startled demonized beast that lunged straight at him. He was forced to draw his gun and shoot… After killing the beast that had nearly crashed into him, he finally lost his balance, stumbled, and went tumbling a good distance across the ground.

Sai Ke, who was at the very front of the group, quickly stopped and turned back to pull him up. He lifted Bale’s faceplate, revealing a face pale and drained of all color.

“The Demonic Fire Beast soul was never known for its endurance. Even in a deep fusion, it can’t withstand this kind of strain… You and your squad members bring up the rear. Santas, keep an eye on them. Gregor and I will continue…”

Before he could finish, a familiar humming sound suddenly came from the distant sky.

From a reconnaissance airship flying so low it was almost scraping the treetops, a burly Bloodline Warrior leaped down. He kicked off a tree trunk to break his fall and landed steadily in front of them.

“Huh? It really is the Starfire Warriors. How did you get to Great Bear Lake so fast? Where are the others?”

Sai Ke was overjoyed. Fighting back waves of dizziness, he ripped off his own helmet and shouted, “Sir, we… we’ve discovered a Demonic Lizardman Floating Island in the Leru Grand Canyon, over seventy-five kilometers southwest of Great Bear Lake!”

As he spoke, his body swayed, and he dropped to one knee, unable to remain standing. He continued, gasping, “In the canyon… a small Floating Island has appeared. When we got there, it had just started to surface from the ground!”

Taking a Day Off for the Dragon Boat Festival!

Taking a Day Off for the Dragon Boat Festival!

If all goes according to plan, this book should be finished by the end of June. I’m quite satisfied with myself for managing to write over one point seven million words. Writing part-time meant taking frequent breaks every month, which I feel quite bad about.

I have to bow down to all my patron readers who have been following the latest updates. Although the performance of my first book was rather lackluster, I’ve at least learned a lot from the experience. I hope to do better with the next one.

And to the patron readers who voted with monthly and recommendation tickets and gave rewards, as well as the friends in the comments section who either flamed me, offered suggestions, or just chatted—thank you all so much for your support.

Also, June is the student recruitment season, and as a miserable beast of burden in the education and training industry, my update schedule might become a bit unstable as we approach the finale. However, I will definitely give the story a proper ending. If I happen to miss a day or two… it’s probably because I’m away on business trips for student recruitment. So, I apologize in advance!

Wishing you all a happy Dragon Boat Festival! And a happy Children’s Day!

Chapter 743: Chain Reaction

The capital, Starfire City.

Harvey hurried into the main hall of the Ministry of Defense, frowning at the chaotic scene of bustling people before him. “Is the intelligence source absolutely reliable?”

Pierce nodded heavily, his voice grim. “It was an urgent report sent back from the Great Bear Lake Base twenty minutes ago. The Starfire Warriors on a field training exercise in the area discovered the first signs. A Demonic Lizardman Floating Island fortress has indeed appeared in the Leru Grand Canyon.”

As soon as the news was received, Battalion Commander Dav, who happened to be stationed at Great Bear Lake, dispatched a high-speed airship squad to the Leru Grand Canyon without a moment’s delay. Sure enough, in the areas surrounding the canyon, they discovered fresh traces of winged species activity.

Two high-rank individuals in the Airship squad, skilled in concealment arts, ventured into the canyon alone and immediately discovered the Floating Island fortress. It had just forcefully broken through the soft surface of the swampy meadow and surfaced.

“Visually, this Floating Island isn’t very large. The underground rivers of the abyss in this area are likely too narrow to allow a larger Main Keep Floating Island to pass through.”

Harvey nodded slightly. “But that doesn’t mean the enemies aboard the Floating Island are weak… The number of ordinary Black Lizard warriors might not be high, but the Red Lizardmen, the Winged ones… and possibly high-rank Evolved ones are all threats we must be highly guarded against.”

“Vaughn has already rushed to Great Bear Lake with the Bloodline Warrior special battle group. The Ice Sea Base and the Snowy Mountain Base are also prepared to provide reinforcements. We can launch a military operation against the Leru Grand Canyon at any time.”

After the appearance of Floating Island Number 3 at Great Bear Lake, this was the second time these non-human races had breached the human ground defenses in the barren lands, using submerged travel to advance into inland areas far from the ice sea… But it was obvious that the location where their Floating Island fortress appeared was getting closer and closer to the capital, Starfire City.

It was hard not to see this as a probing offensive strategy by the enemy.

Whether to launch a large-scale offensive to crush them before they could establish a firm foothold in the Leru Grand Canyon was now a crucial decision that the Ministry of Defense and the General Staff had to make in a short amount of time.

Of course, the guiding principle for all these decisions still had to be the Emperor’s own will.

“What about the Starfire Warriors who first discovered the enemy’s tracks?” Harvey asked, his expression calm.

“They’ve already been sent back to the capital via the long-range teleportation array… Does Your Majesty wish to see these new recruits and question them personally?”

Harvey nodded, signaling for them to be brought directly to the Ministry of Defense.

…

Since this was not an interrogation of prisoners or criminals, Harvey had no intention of making the new recruits nervous. He chose to meet them in a temporarily cleared-out office at the Ministry of Defense.

The first one brought in was Squad leader Sai Ke. Harvey remembered that during the Demon Armor trials, this new recruit, barely in his early twenties, had achieved outstanding results. And in this field training exercise with the Bloodline Warriors, the squad he led had also performed quite well.

Although it was only a simple inquiry, facing His Majesty the Emperor for the first time, Sai Ke was still incredibly nervous. The moment he entered the room, the back of his uniform was soaked with sweat, and his body trembled slightly as he knelt on one knee before Harvey.

“Rise. Sit on the sofa and carefully recall what you encountered. Just describe everything you saw, down to the last detail.”

Harvey leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped over his torso, and spoke with a genial expression.

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

Sai Ke rose and cautiously sat on the sofa, his back ramrod straight, not daring to lean back in the slightest.

“For what reason did you suddenly deviate from the training march route and choose to detour to the Leru Grand Canyon area? Did you discover any anomalies in that area beforehand?”

Harvey’s first question was not an accusation, but an attempt to find out whether the Demonic Lizardmen had been setting up in the Leru Grand Canyon for a long time.

Sai Ke answered decisively without a moment’s hesitation, “Your Majesty, we did not discover any enemy activity in the canyon beforehand. We were ahead of schedule on our march and had ample time before we were due to arrive at our destination at Great Bear Lake. So, we decided to go see the Leru Grand Canyon, to see the legendary battlefield ruins of the Demonic Lizardmen and the vile orcs.”

Harvey grunted in acknowledgment and continued to press, “So when you first arrived, you didn’t find any trace of the enemy either? It was only after staying for some time that you witnessed the Floating Island rising?”

“Yes. After arriving, we immediately split up our squads to scout the surrounding area. We soon discovered a cave containing a large number of the Demonic Lizardmen’s black water weapon canisters. We immediately fired a flare to signal the Military Law Department’s Airship for a warning and assistance… but we received no response, likely due to the distance.”

Faced with His Majesty the Emperor’s gentle demeanor, Sai Ke gradually relaxed and began to speak more freely. “The moment we discovered the black water weapon canisters, we suspected there might be a submerged Floating Island nearby. To verify this crucial intelligence, we decided not to retreat immediately… Instead, we chose to venture deeper into the center of the canyon. This led to us being ambushed by a squad of remnant Demonic Lizardmen who were dormant in a pool of water. It took some effort, but we wiped them out completely.”

Harvey nodded and turned to Pierce, who had been standing silently to the side. “What do you think?”

Pierce pondered for a moment before answering, “It’s obvious. Their battle with the remnant Demonic Lizardmen alerted the Floating Island traveling submerged in the underground river. After all, the Demonic Lizardmen’s internal communication is like a hive mind; any single individual can connect with the main consciousness inside the Floating Island over a short distance.”

This was the first time Sai Ke had heard such high-level, classified intelligence. He asked, both shocked and frightened, “Was… was it our fight that drew out their Floating Island?”

Harvey chuckled and shook his head. “You don’t have that much influence. The Floating Island had already reached the canyon; its complete exposure was just a matter of time… It seems their initial battle with the vile orcs was merely a probe of the area. Once they finished cleaning up, the Floating Island couldn’t wait to make its appearance.”

Although they possessed the crucial intelligence of the Abyssal Sea Chart, the Northern Army couldn’t possibly monitor every surface water system in the vast barren lands that connected to the underground rivers of the abyss. This was especially true for a special case like the Leru Grand Canyon… There were clearly no deep lakes or large rivers, yet the enemy had managed to break through the surface by relying on the summer and autumn flood tides.

The Emperor then asked Sai Ke a few more questions. After receiving detailed answers, he dismissed him.

“Before we launch an operation against this Floating Island Number 5, we must figure out why they came and why they chose this place… After all, from both a tactical and strategic perspective, the Leru Grand Canyon is hardly strategically vital ground.”

Harvey had a nagging feeling that there was something strange about this. In their numerous clashes of varying scales, the Demonic Lizardmen had been defeated by the Northern Army almost every time. It made no sense for them to repeat their mistakes and come just to throw their lives away again.

If they wanted to avoid the brunt of the Northern Army’s main force and adopt a strategy of gradually encroaching on human territory to eliminate humanity’s effective strength, then starting from Isengard or the Evil Moon Mountain Range would have been a much better choice.

Chapter 744: Night Meeting

Legendary Chief Salas was roused from deep meditation by Dawson.

The moment he opened his eyes, he saw Dean Arturo of the Academy of Sciences standing beside them. The soul fire in the eyes of his alchemical body flickered erratically, a clear sign that his logical thinking was in an active state.

“What’s happened? Why have you come so late at night?”

During their time in Starfire City, the two Chiefs had mostly kept to themselves within the New Federation building, minimizing public appearances unless absolutely necessary. This was partly to avoid political entanglements and partly because the research projects they were responsible for were proving incredibly difficult to overcome.

However, they still paid close attention to the developing situation on the front lines. If a major emergency occurred, the Department of State would dispatch staff to inform them immediately.

But for Arturo to visit this late at night, there could only be one reason… His Majesty the Emperor had summoned them personally.

“His Majesty is at the Defense Department right now. He asks that you two Chiefs come at once for a meeting…”

Salas nodded, straightened his mage robe, and followed Arturo out without any further delay. Although the capital didn’t have a strict curfew at night, rashly casting a flight spell could easily attract the attention of the Defense Force’s patrol airships. To avoid any misunderstandings, the three of them decided to travel by alchemical wheeled vehicle.

“What’s really going on? His Majesty rarely summons us this late, and he seldom asks for our opinion on military matters…” Dawson couldn’t help but mutter, a hint of doubt clear on his face.

Arturo shook his head. If it were merely a matter of magical research, there would be no need to summon them at such an hour. It was most likely a matter of great urgency.

…

The three soon arrived at the Defense Department. Just as they stepped into the conference hall, they saw Emperor Harvey sitting in the seat of honor, along with numerous high-ranking military officials in the room.

“Your Majesty, Dean Arturo and the two Chiefs have also arrived. We can begin the meeting now…” Personal Guard Captain Tommy leaned close to Harvey’s ear and reminded him in a low voice.

Harvey put down the document in his hands and clapped. “Gentlemen, I apologize for summoning you so late at night. There is an important piece of intelligence that I must share with you immediately.”

With that, he motioned for a personal guard to take out a Recording Stone and played back the conversation between the Emperor and the new recruit, Sai Ke, in the room.

As the Starfire Warrior’s voice echoed in their ears, the quiet atmosphere in the conference hall instantly erupted into a buzz. The high-ranking officials, who had been summoned late at night, were now wide awake, their expressions grave as they began to discuss the matter in low voices.

Salas and Dawson exchanged a glance, immediately understanding why the Emperor had summoned them. Salas took the initiative to stand up. “Your Majesty… are you concerned that this Floating Island that suddenly appeared in the inland barren lands might contain high-rank Evolved ones?”

Harvey nodded and said frankly, “Ordinary soldiers are almost defenseless against such beings. That is why I need the Spellcasters’ opinion…”

He paused, then stood and walked slowly to the map on the wall, pointing to the location of the Leru Grand Canyon. “The Demonic Lizardmen just had a major battle with the vile orcs here not long ago. For them to suddenly make a comeback… there must be a special reason. We need to find out what forced them to bring their Floating Island back to this place via submerged travel.”

With that, he gave a meaningful look to Astaren, who immediately understood and rose to add, “Gentlemen, the previous actions of these non-human monsters could be seen as an attempt to establish a foothold and expand their influence in the Great Bear Lake area, which is why they moved to wipe out the vile orc tribes there… But now that the Floating Island at Great Bear Lake has been sunk by us, logically speaking, the Demonic Lizardmen should not choose to repeat their mistake.”

“Unless they’re here to deliver more high-rank Evolved ones…”

More high-rank Evolved ones?

Spellshield Fran Macaulay, who was seated below the Chiefs, couldn’t help but tremble… He had not personally experienced the great battle on the ice sea front, but from the magic stone recordings sent back, he was well aware of the tragic sight of the high-level casters fighting the enemy. Although they had been caught off guard, the formidable power of the non-human Evolved ones, comparable to that of a Legendary, was truly terrifying.

Realization dawned on Salas, who spoke up. “Does Your Majesty intend to have Spellcasters probe this Floating Island to see if one or more Evolved ones are present?”

Harvey nodded, his voice heavy. “We need to come up with a viable battle plan. First, we need to determine if there are Evolved ones on the target Floating Island. Second, we need to find a way to lure the Evolved ones away… move them elsewhere to be surrounded and killed. Only then can our garrison at Great Bear Lake be completely unleashed to quickly destroy Floating Island Number 5 in the Leru Grand Canyon.”

The objective the Emperor set was clear, but all the Spellcasters present knew that while using a “lure the tiger from the mountain” strategy on the non-human Evolved ones wasn’t too difficult, “surrounding and killing” them was not as simple as it sounded.

In the previous battle on the ice sea front, a surprise attack from a single non-human Evolved one had resulted in the deaths of two high-rank Spellcasters and over a dozen mid- and low-rank battle mages. The outcome remained a heavy blow to the United Kingdom’s high command and the New Federation.

Seeing the Emperor himself frowning in thought, Chief Dawson stood up, his expression solemn. “If the plan requires Spellcasters to undertake this mission, then it is our inescapable duty… Your Majesty need not worry about the outcome. The battle mages will fight to the death to achieve their objective.”

“You want to throw away the lives of battle mages?” Harvey’s eyebrows shot up, and he snapped angrily, “I will not allow it… The United Kingdom does not need a tragic victory bought with the pointless sacrifice of Spellcasters. I can only accept taking a certain amount of risk while maintaining the advantage as much as possible.”

He paused, then emphasized, “If the situation proves impossible, the kill mission can be changed to a forced retreat. Our opponents are not brainless, savage beasts. They will also act to preserve themselves when they sense a threat.”

Battle Group Marshal Andre Weiss, however, quickly stood up and said, “Your Majesty, letting the tiger return to the mountain is not an option! The battle mages have no fear. Everyone will fight with the resolve to die. We should do our utmost to slay the non-human Evolved ones!”

This kind of talk, always calling for a fight to the glorious death, made Harvey look up at the sky helplessly.

Salas quickly stepped in to smooth things over. “Your Majesty need not worry too much about casualties. I have a very simple method that will, on one hand, allow us to maximize our chances of killing the target, and on the other, ensure that the battle mages do not sacrifice themselves needlessly.”

“What method?” Harvey pressed before he could finish.

In the old Federation, Legendary Chief Salas had always stayed out of decisions regarding the protracted war between Spellcasters and Demons. Rumor had it that he did not possess much talent for military command. Since coming to Starfire City, he had come only when summoned and never participated in the kingdom’s high-level military conferences.

As the Emperor and all the high-ranking military officials leaned in, ears pricked, the Legendary Chief finally spoke in a low voice—

“It’s no incredible strategy. We bring Gallagher over from Blackstone City, and along with me and Dawson… The three of us, plus a dozen high-rank battle mages, should have no problem dealing with a few potential non-human Evolved ones.”

He shrugged and added nonchalantly, “If we can’t win a one-on-one, we can always just gang up on them…”

Chapter 745: Probing and Worries

The idea of transferring Gallagher, a Legendary Chief who had started as a battle mage, from Blackstone City west of the south all the way to Starfire City…

It was an arrangement Harvey had never even considered.

Although the main force of the Demonic army in the Evil Moon Mountain Range had long since withdrawn, small, scattered groups of remnant soldiers were still active in the region. After the complete collapse of the Holy See and the Divine Punishment Faction, even the last Army of Judgment knight order stationed in Blackstone City had been recalled to the Duchy of Iruvia.

Now, the entirety of Blackstone City was, for all intents and purposes, controlled by the old Federation and the seven wizard kingdoms, having become a veritable fortress for Spellcasters.

“If we were to transfer Lord Gallagher here, the independent Mage Corps in Blackstone City… would have to temporarily halt their incursion into the Demonic territories north of the Spine of the Gods Mountains. They wouldn’t be able to gather timely intelligence on the Demons’ battle with the Demonic Lizardmen,” Spellshield cautioned.

A Legendary Caster was, after all, the pillar of support for a battle group. Without his personal leadership, most battle mages would face enormous risks venturing deep into the northern barren lands.

Harvey nodded in agreement and turned to Salas. “Until we have definitively confirmed whether there are any non-human Evolved ones on Floating Island Number 5, there is no need to disturb Lord Gallagher…”

He paused, then looked toward the senior staff officer, Dickinson. “Tell us the General Staff’s thoughts.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The officer immediately rose to his feet and said in a grave tone, “According to the General Staff’s intelligence analysis, although the enemy’s Floating Island fortress has penetrated deep into the inland barren lands this time, reaching the Leru Grand Canyon—unprecedentedly close to the capital, Starfire City—from a strategic perspective, we have reason to believe this was a… forced move, one they made because they had no other choice.”

As he spoke, he had a guard bring over an enlarged Abyssal Sea Chart on a stand, placing it next to the map of the Northern Realm that hung on the wall.

“Gentlemen, please look. Judging from the distribution of underground rivers on the sea chart… Leru Grand Canyon is the absolute limit the enemy’s small Floating Island can reach. Any further south, toward the Icefield River, the underground water system becomes denser, but there are no longer any routes suitable for a Floating Island’s submerged travel.”

Over three hundred kilometers… precisely at the edge of the kingdom’s Survey Department’s external survey range.

It was also the maximum distance from which the Demonic Lizardmen could dispatch Winged ones to launch a surprise attack on the capital. Under normal weather conditions, those mid-rank winged species could essentially leave Leru Grand Canyon at dawn and arrive by dusk, spending over ten hours on a long-range raid against Starfire City.

They had attempted something similar near Great Bear Lake, but they had run into a brick wall, utterly annihilated by the beam-based anti-air weapons of the capital’s Defense Force.

“Therefore, we must not yield a single inch of these three hundred kilometers of inland barren lands… We cannot allow the strategic depth that originally belonged to humans to be turned into a network of hideouts for the Demonic Lizardmen.”

Dickinson tapped the coordinates of the Leru Grand Canyon on the map, his finger slowly sliding half an inch south… On the topographical survey, the area he pointed to appeared to be a range of high mountains.

“Wild Goose Mountain?” several officers with extensive combat experience in the barren lands murmured, recognizing the name.

It was a range of towering mountains about ten kilometers from the Leru Grand Canyon, with an altitude rivaling that of Raven Ridge. Even in the height of summer, its peaks remained covered in snow year-round, and actually reaching them would require considerable effort.

“The best way to probe for and lure out any potential Evolved one on Floating Island Number 5 is to set up long-range heavy cannons directly over their heads… The distance between Wild Goose Mountain and Leru Grand Canyon is perfect for the maximum strike range of an artillery position. Furthermore, establishing the position on high ground will allow for greater accuracy during long-range bombardments.”

Harvey was secretly amused. It seemed the army’s top brass had fully grasped the tactical essence of ‘high ground beats low ground, it’s a fool’s game’.

He pondered for a moment before asking, “So the artillery position at Wild Goose Mountain is, in fact, a genuine… decoy?”

Dickinson didn’t even need to answer; everyone present understood immediately.

If an Evolved one was on the Floating Island, it would certainly not stand by and watch its side suffer a devastating artillery strike. Thus, the strategy to lure it away would succeed one way or another… the only question was what kind of ambush the human side planned to set.

Of course, if there was no Evolved one on the Floating Island at all, the “decoy” would instantly transform into a “Grim Reaper’s scythe” descending from the heavens, raining tens of thousands of shells down upon the Leru Grand Canyon without a moment’s hesitation.

…

The meeting continued until near dawn. Only when Harvey decided to adjourn temporarily did the weary attendees begin to file out.

However, Salas and Dawson stopped the Emperor as he prepared to return to the Imperial Palace.

“Your Majesty, during tonight’s meeting… why were you so unwilling to adopt our suggestion from the start? Could it be that Your Majesty has no confidence in us three old men?”

Though there was a faint hint of complaint in his words, Harvey knew Salas was mostly teasing, so he was not offended.

“Chief Excellency, there’s no need for self-deprecation. I had no intention of underestimating the three of you,” Harvey said with a wry smile and a shrug. “In fact, since the end of the Dragon War, has humanity ever faced circumstances that required three Federation Chiefs to take to the field personally?”

The long seesaw battle against these northern non-human races had just begun. Harvey saw no need to reveal all his trump cards right from the outset. A war fought from a position of strength had its own methods.

Besides… he had another concern, one he couldn’t voice out of respect for the Chiefs’ dignity.

After all, the youngest of the three, Lord Gallagher, was now nearly one hundred twenty years old. Lord Dawson was slightly his senior… while Lord Salas had just passed the one-hundred-fifty-year mark. He had been cured of his soul-separation sickness through the near-fatal Flesh and Soul Fusion Ritual, and for at least several decades, he wouldn’t have to worry about the end of his lifespan.

But no matter how one looked at it… short-lived species that had not transcended their mortal limits would still grow old and weak with the passage of time. Being of Legendary-rank only served to slightly prolong this process.

From Harvey’s observation, Lord Gallagher had likely not yet entered the stage of irreversible mana decay.

As for Chiefs Dawson and Salas… unless it was a moment of absolute necessity, they now rarely displayed the high-circle spells that had once made them famous. The rules of mana were cruel… the higher one’s advancement and the more powerful the magic wielded, the more fiercely mana eroded the physical body and mental energy. It was like an exceptionally sharp double-edged sword, and every swing had to be made with extreme caution.

The New Federation officially had three Legendary Mages, and not one of them could afford a mishap on the battlefield. If they were to personally go to war and fall, it would be an unprecedented loss for the United Kingdom. Public morale and fighting spirit would suffer a devastating blow.

Therefore, when it came to dealing with the Demonic Lizardmen’s Evolved ones, Harvey was still more inclined to trust Son of Flame and his group of high-rank battle mages, who were all in the prime of their power.

And then there were the Bloodline Warriors and Starfire Warriors, in whom he had always placed great hope.

Chapter 746: “Once You Arrive, You’re a Citizen of the Capital”

A few days later, the first batch of new immigrants from Isengard arrived at Starfire City, their magical-powered train pulling slowly into the station.

The entire Central Station was gridlocked with several trains, and even entering the station required waiting in a queue. Over at Raven Ridge and Grizzly Keep, just a mountain range away, there were still trains parked, waiting for their turn to transfer.

The long station platforms were teeming with people. A dense crowd poured out of the trains and, under the guidance of police and government officials, entered the station lobby, forming seemingly endless queues to begin identity verification. Back in the refugee reception areas on the border, these people had already completed their identity registration, which saved the capital’s Population Management Department a great deal of effort.

Harvey learned of the news in his office and smiled at Rainer, who had come to report. “I didn’t expect that after the various municipalities took their share, we’d still have nearly three thousand people left for the capital. It seems the refugee reception work at the border has gone much more smoothly than I imagined.”

“Of course, but don’t be fooled by the relatively small number diverted to the capital…” Rainer’s tone carried a hint of worry. “In reality, this migration has seen nearly thirty thousand refugees settled across the kingdom. Your Majesty, we’ve practically emptied Isengard’s capital, Ironhill.”

He paused, unable to resist pulling a handwritten ledger from his folder. He flipped through it, muttering, “Your Majesty, I’m no longer worried about failing to meet the population growth target by late autumn. I’m worried whether our grain reserves and the national treasury’s funds can handle the frequent requests for financial appropriations from various regions before this year’s autumn harvest.”

Constructing housing, providing relief food, and ensuring medical care were all imminent, short-term expenses. In the long run, the costs of education, technical training, and the payment of salaries and benefits for the new immigrants were even greater, adding another gushing outlet to a national treasury that was already hemorrhaging funds.

Harvey, however, wasn’t worried about money in the slightest. He smiled and reassured Rainer, “Then just have the National Bank’s Mint start up a few more printing presses. At worst, we can put the mint workers on a three-shift system.”

“And what about public security and sanitation?” Rainer was still anxious. “They are new immigrants from a foreign country, after all. Many of them don’t even speak the language. The chief officials of the various administrative capitals have all been suggesting… that we designate a separate residential area for these foreign immigrants to facilitate isolation and control.”

“Absolutely not!” Harvey decisively shook his head, rejecting the suggestion. “That completely contradicts the promises we made to them. Not only would it damage the kingdom’s credibility and my own, but they would also never be able to integrate into St. Valen. Tell the regional administrators that I want citizens with legal status who are thoroughly integrated into the local community, not slaves trafficked from a foreign land who need to be isolated and controlled.”

He paused, his tone growing serious. “If they still don’t understand, tell them to see how the capital does it. If they can’t even learn by copying, I see no reason for them to remain in their City Hall positions.”

When it came to the speed and scale of population growth, no city in all the nations of the south could compare to Starfire City.

A massive influx of outsiders was a constant phenomenon. Initially, this had unsurprisingly led to significant public order problems in the capital—housing shortages, a need for literacy education, sanitation and disease prevention issues, and many other problems emerged one after another. However, the Department of State at the time had promptly resolved them through various policies and decrees, which could now serve as a perfect reference for other administrative capitals.

In short, compared to the many benefits brought by labor force growth, all other negative issues arising from the forced migration were insignificant.

Of the first thirty thousand-plus people who had migrated from Isengard into the kingdom, if just ten thousand could be properly settled in the state-run farms across the country, they would, after learning and mastering alchemical mechanized farming techniques, be able to produce enough high-quality grain to feed several hundred thousand people.

If another ten thousand could be directed into the nation’s state-run factories and manufacturing industries, the scale of the existing logistics industry and military production could be doubled. This also meant more magical energy weapons and artillery ammunition could be produced. The highly skilled workers whose assembly line jobs they took over could then be freed up to be invested in the research and development of new types of weapons and equipment.

As for the last ten thousand, Harvey’s initial projections weren’t greedy. Even if only a fifth of them volunteered for military service and passed the enlistment assessment, it would provide the Ministry of Defense with a new Regiment of combat soldiers. Subsequently deploying them in the counter-offensive against Isengard would even give them certain advantages over the Northern Army fighting abroad. After all, that was the homeland they knew so well.

…

Is this… the legendary “New City of Miracles” that stands in the Northern Barren Lands?

Wood clutched his nephew Jacob’s hand tightly with one hand and held a bulging travel pack in the other, following the crowd off the train in a daze.

On the way here, his colleague Holmes, who was returning with him, had chattered on and on, telling him many stories and rumors about the capital. Before Wood and his nephew could even be surprised by the magical vehicle they were riding in, they were plunged into Holmes’s slightly exaggerated verbal bombardment.

When they transferred at Grizzly Keep, Holmes got off early. He left a slip of paper with his address, insisting that Wood must visit his home when he had time. As a newcomer in a foreign land, Wood was so moved his eyes reddened slightly.

In a way, the camaraderie between colleagues who had faced life and death together in the Border Transport Team was more like the trust between comrades-in-arms.

Unlike the refugees who had clearly been forcibly assigned to migrate to the capital, the moment Wood stepped off the train, he was noticed by several men in blue uniforms who had been waiting on the platform.

“Mr. Wood, from Steelrock City, is that correct?” a man in blue asked him with a gentle attitude.

Seeing that the man wore the same color uniform as the border officials, Wood subconsciously regarded them as government officials of St. Valen. He nodded quickly and replied earnestly, “Yes, Sir, my lord. I’m Wood from Steelrock City, and this is my nephew, Jacob… We both have official residency status for the capital, you see…”

As he spoke, he pulled a card that glowed with a faint white light from his waist pouch and held it out.

When the other party smiled but didn’t take it, he hesitated for a moment. Then, he took out a stack of gold yuan banknotes from his travel pack, pulled out the two largest denominations, and also threw in the two packs of cigarettes Holmes had stuffed into his hands before they parted.

According to Holmes, cigarettes from the state-run factory were a “hard currency” in the capital, essential for building good social connections when needed.

The blue-uniformed man’s expression changed slightly. He pushed Wood’s hand, the one clutching the money, back toward him and shook his head with a wry smile. “Mr. Wood, your skill at driving alchemical wheeled vehicles is excellent, but now that you’re in the capital… I’m afraid you’ll need to spend some time learning the government’s laws and regulations.”

Another man in blue added with a smile, “Government officials are strictly forbidden from accepting bribes. Both giving and taking bribes are serious crimes. If you don’t want to be sent to the mines or logging areas for hard labor, you’d best get rid of this old habit of dealing with nobles.”

The two men glanced at each other after speaking, then simultaneously reached out and took the two packs of cigarettes from Wood’s hand, saying in unison, “However, if it’s just a pack of cigarettes… that’s within the permissible range for accepting gifts.”

While Wood stood there, stunned, one of the men winked at Jacob, who was hiding timidly behind his uncle. “The Transportation Department provides free housing for its hired drivers. While we can’t bend the law, we can arrange a place for you that’s closer to the public academy. That way… it’ll be more convenient for the boy to get to school every day, wouldn’t it?”

Chapter 747: The Eastern Defense Line

Central Isengard, Transport Station Number Seven.

“Everyone with a number ticket, get in line over here!”

“No pushing! Anyone who dares to cut in line will be sent to the back!”

“The elderly and children to the front. Women are in the second group. Men and the able-bodied, stand back.”

“Damn it! No large luggage or belongings are allowed on the vehicles. If you want to come with us, ditch it all! There will be food and water supplies along the way to the border!”

Beside the long convoy of vehicles, heads bobbed in a dense crowd. A large number of refugees who had arrived at the transport station formed a crooked, long line, waiting to board in batches.

More and more refugees gathered at the station. If not for the Northern Army soldiers maintaining order with their weapons raised, a fight would have likely broken out long ago over the priority boarding spots.

“Chief! Why did Highland City only send so few vehicles? It’s not nearly enough to evacuate all the refugees at the station!” the young soldier said, frowning as he stood on his tiptoes to look around, counting the number of empty wheeled vehicles before him.

Benny stood on a high slope, gazing at the yellowing sky in the distance. He said in a low voice, “We’re lucky the convoy made it at all… Stations Five and Six just sent word that at least two transport teams are trapped there, completely stuck because of this damn sandstorm.”

The weather on the grasslands could only be described as unpredictable. It had been clear at dawn, but by afternoon, the gloomy sky heralded a brewing sandstorm.

A month ago, he was fighting Demonic Lizardmen on the Arctic Ice Sea in the barren lands. Now, in the blink of an eye, he had received transfer orders, traveled thousands of miles to Isengard, and taken on the mission of receiving and rescuing refugees in the central grasslands. The thought gave Benny a surreal, otherworldly feeling.

Compared to the Ice Sea front, where a moment of carelessness could cost you your ears to frostbite, Isengard in the south was downright comfortable. If not for the occasional mouthful of coarse dust from the sandstorms, Benny would have looked forward to staying here for a while longer.

As time went on, the closer they got to the transport stations in the north-central part of the Cavalry Kingdom, the more difficult the evacuation work became… On one hand, the Demonic Lizardmen had dispatched numerous small, roving combat units to repeatedly infiltrate and harass the central region, running the soldiers along the entire central defense line ragged.

On the other hand, the number of refugees was ever-increasing, and the transport teams dispatched from the border passes were clearly suffering from insufficient capacity.

Every day the refugees were stranded meant another day of increased danger. The people gradually congregating near the transport station easily attracted the enemy’s attention. Those Winged ones, who often patrolled the skies, would call in large forces of Black Lizard warriors to assault the station upon discovering a target.

Station Number Eight, located twenty-five kilometers from Station Number Seven, had exchanged fire with the Demonic Lizardmen just yesterday.

The airship unit responsible for intelligence and reconnaissance in the area had also sent warnings to several nearby stations, reporting that a large non-human force was advancing in this direction.

As expected, Benny and his men received orders to evacuate quickly to Highland City.

The garrison at Station Number Seven, a battalion in strength, originally had enough military vehicles for an orderly evacuation… But right after Station Number Eight was attacked, the several thousand refugees it had taken in came flooding over, forcing the army to free up more wheeled vehicles to transport them.

As a result, the original garrison could only remain behind, continuing to rely on the simple defensive line constructed around the barracks, ever-vigilant against a possible Demonic Lizardman attack.

Benny estimated that their own evacuation would be delayed by at least several days, until another convoy of transport vehicles could be dispatched from Highland City.

…

“Chief, the reconnaissance airship spotted the enemy over five kilometers away!”

When it rains, it pours.

Benny frowned. “Did they break through the line from Station Number Eight?”

The soldier scrambled down from the tall watchtower in a flash and said in a low voice, “No, they’re coming from the direction of Steelrock City.”

Another enemy force that had detached from a Floating Island fortress, arriving via submerged travel through the dense network of underground rivers beneath the grasslands.

“Notify the floating airship. Have them quickly contact Station Number Five behind us… We might need reinforcements.”

This wasn’t the first time Station Number Seven had encountered Demonic Lizardmen. Just a week ago, a few Winged ones that had fled from Sinking Mulberry Valley and broken away from a larger force were lingering nearby. After being discovered by a reconnaissance floating airship, they were herded over the camp and picked off. In the following days, scattered enemies had also been active in the vicinity, launching sporadic attacks on passing transport vehicles.

Benny was no stranger to facing these non-human monsters and felt no fear. Upon receiving the warning, he immediately ordered the engagement alarm to be sounded, then led a squad of soldiers to the combat zone.

The transport station had no high, sturdy walls to provide solid, reliable defense. The soldiers stationed here could only rely on dug-out trenches for cover. To deal with enemies advancing on the ground, they only had the barbed wire and metal fences they had brought and set up around the camp to offer some slight obstruction.

Once a firefight broke out, the only things that would be truly decisive… were the several machine guns and anti-air beams they had set up.

In less than ten minutes, the silhouettes of the enemy faintly appeared on the distant horizon.

Through his spyglass, Benny saw that this roving band of non-humans wasn’t particularly large—barely five hundred in number… They were clearly a small group of stragglers separated from the main force after being routed on the front lines.

“No sign of Winged ones. There are a few suspected Red Lizardmen in the enemy ranks.”

Benny patiently raised his weapon, silently observing the approaching enemy figures… until they were completely within the machine guns’ field of fire.

“Fire!”

The three Magical Energy Machine Guns at the station camp immediately roared to life. The fronts of their long, thick, dark barrels spewed crimson flames, and a dense rain of ammunition instantly poured down on the enemy.

There was no cover to speak of on the flat grasslands. The Demonic Lizardmen at the very front were instantly torn to shreds by the bullets. Their companions, a little further back, used their kinsmen’s deaths to buy a moment, reacting immediately by dropping to the ground to avoid the first wave of fire and slowly crawling forward.

Benny narrowed his eyes in confusion.

Logically, these routed soldiers who had been separated from their main force were no different from the other scattered enemies wandering the grasslands. If they recklessly attacked a transport station, they would soon be met with merciless covering fire, and after leaving behind a few dozen corpses, they would flee in a panic like startled birds.

But this group of Demonic Lizardmen before him seemed to have no intention of saving their own lives.

It was as if he were back on the Ice Sea front, where they would launch suicidal charges against the formidable firepower of the human soldiers to defend their Floating Island fortresses.

Did they have some reason they absolutely had to assault the transport station?

Benny’s mind raced, but his finger didn’t hesitate for a moment on the trigger.

The garrison had ample ammunition reserves. The two beam-based anti-air weapons hadn’t even been used yet. Completely wiping out these enemies would not be difficult at all.

Their annihilation was only a matter of time.

Chapter 748: Full-Scale Evacuation

Click—

Benny worked the bolt, expertly ejected the empty magazine, and casually grabbed a full one from his waist to reload.

He raised his gun again, aiming at a target crawling slowly through the meadow several hundred meters ahead of the trench, only for a comrade beside him to beat him to it with a headshot.

“Tsk…”

He shot an annoyed sideways glance, but his peripheral vision caught a Communications Officer running frantically toward their end of the trench.

“Captain Benny, the battalion commander orders us to end the battle within ten minutes! All squads are to follow the refugee convoy and evacuate the station immediately.”

What? A full evacuation?

Benny frowned and instinctively asked, “The transport team’s vehicles aren’t nearly enough. Weren’t we supposed to wait for the next convoy to arrive before we pulled out?”

The Communications Officer was out of breath from running. He gasped, “There’s no time to wait for them. We have to go even if we have to follow the convoy on foot… The reconnaissance airship spotted a large number of Black Lizardmen pouring out of Steelrock City toward us, more than five kilometers away. There are also signs of Winged ones in the sky. If we don’t leave now, we’ll be trapped!”

Benny felt his heart sink.

So that’s why the enemy, despite lacking a numerical advantage, insisted on fighting them so fiercely and fearlessly!

The scattered ground troops they were facing now were just a delaying force, meant to pin down the Northern Army so their main force could close in for the kill.

“Have the artillery squad fire the Portable Cannons to buy us time to fall back! Everyone else, fire at will… We’re leaving in five minutes!”

Seeing the Communications Officer jog off toward another squad’s section of the trench, Benny also stood up and moved quickly to the area where the Beam Weapons were set up.

The few soldiers operating the Beam Weapons, having just received the evacuation order, were sweating profusely as they tried to dismantle the heavy weapons. Benny couldn’t help but urge them in a low voice, “Forget these big things. We can’t carry them out even if you take them apart. Just leave them… We’ll be back to retake the station one day. Besides, the Demonic Lizardmen don’t know how to use this stuff anyway.”

The soldier stared blankly for a moment, then stammered, “Chief, we can leave the Beam Weapons, but… but what about the liquid magical energy shells?”

The liquid magical energy shells used to power the anti-air beam weapons were also incredibly heavy. A single shell, as thick as a man’s thigh, weighed nearly fifty pounds, which already exceeded the standard field march loadout for a typical Northern Army soldier.

Trying to carry them while evacuating on foot was simply a pipe dream.

“Get the Demolition Squad over here…” Benny narrowed his eyes, a ruthless look on his face. “Bury all the remaining liquid magical energy shells in the trenches. Have them set up a simple camouflage. After we pull out, we’ll blow all those bastards who charge into the transport station sky-high!”

In a fixed-point defensive battle, the Demolition Squad often didn’t have a large role to play. But when it came to setting booby traps, they were old hands at it. By using expendable micro alchemical beasts to create timed bombs, they could set the detonation time with near-second precision.

Unsurprisingly, the other squad leaders stationed at the station had the same idea.

Several of them quickly gathered to coordinate, and the demolition soldiers, upon receiving their orders, began to busy themselves with the setup.

…

By the time the faint silhouettes of Winged ones flapping their wings became visible on the distant horizon, the garrison at Station Number Seven had already fallen back to the second line of defense at the edge of the camp.

The horn for retreat soon blared across the entire camp. The combat squads from battalion headquarters began to open fire in rotation according to standard procedure, providing covering fire for each other in an orderly withdrawal.

The alchemical wheeled vehicles, packed to the brim with refugees, rumbled to life and slowly drove out of Station Number Seven Transport Station.

“Captain Benny! Get your squad back into the camp. You’ve been assigned to evacuate with the first convoy… The battalion commander’s personal squad will cover the rear.”

Leaning against a supply rack, Benny emptied another magazine and replied without turning his head, “I know. Tell the commander and his men to watch out for enemies pouring in from the side of the Barracks, or they’ll get surrounded.”

A few sharp whistle blows sounded. The soldiers, weapons in hand, moved nimbly through the Barracks, firing back at the gradually approaching enemy while slowly retreating along a predetermined route.

The demolition soldier in charge of detonation held an alchemical beast control device and rushed over to Benny. “Captain Benny, the micro alchemical beasts are in position, ready to detonate at any time.”

“Good. Wait for the battalion commander’s order. His squad is covering the rear… The explosion must buy them the time they need to escape.”

Benny led his squad to a military wheeled vehicle that was about to depart. He peeked into the enclosed compartment and immediately frowned and shook his head… While the transport team’s vehicles were at full capacity, the military vehicles were also crammed with hitchhiking refugees.

It seemed the battalion commander was determined not to abandon a single one of them, intending to bring all these poor Plainsmen to a safe area.

A soldier leaned out of the wheelhouse and shouted, “Captain Benny, get on! There’s still room for two more in here!”

Benny didn’t answer. He slung his Magical Energy Gun over his back, reached out, and grabbed two young, baby-faced soldiers beside him, shoving them unceremoniously into the wheelhouse.

“Let these rookies ride… The rest of us will follow on foot.”

The soldiers who had been forced into the vehicle struggled, about to protest—

BOOM!

Two muffled explosions roared in everyone’s ears. The grassy ground beneath their feet trembled slightly, and a massive plume of smoke erupted from the Barracks, instantly enveloping the entire station.

Holy hell! Did they just detonate all the buried liquid magical energy shells at once?

Benny was horribly startled. He only breathed a huge sigh of relief when he saw the battalion commander emerge from the billowing smoke and dust, completely unscathed.

“What are you standing around for? Go! The enemy will be drawn to the commotion in the camp for a while, and the Winged ones’ vision will be limited by the smoke and flames. This is our chance to slip away.”

The other soldiers wasted no more time. As the military wheeled vehicles kicked up clouds of dust behind them, they all broke into a trot.

A forced march across the plains was not particularly difficult. As long as the enemy didn’t hound them like mad dogs, they could rely on their robust physical conditioning to reach Station Number Five, over thirty li away to the rear.

Of course, a few scattered pursuers were nothing to fear. The Northern Army had standard procedures for field combat. By leaving behind rear-guard units in stages along the retreat route, each squad-sized combat unit could withdraw in an orderly fashion while providing covering fire for one another.

As several more violent explosions echoed from the camp behind them, some Demonic Lizardmen finally realized something was wrong and chose to circle around the station to the rear of the Barracks.

Naturally, they also spotted the human convoy rapidly retreating into the distance.

Several Winged ones instantly received the order to pursue. They flapped their wings, cutting through the thick smoke that billowed to the sky, and charged straight for the soldiers on foot at the very back of the convoy.

“Eyes on the sky! Prepare to engage!”

Benny instinctively raised his weapon into a standard semi-crouched firing position, tilting the muzzle up to aim at the approaching Winged ones.

These things looked hell-bent on hunting them down… A smooth retreat was probably not going to be as simple as they’d hoped.

Just as all the rear-guard soldiers gritted their teeth, preparing to stay and fight the enemy to the death… a familiar, deep humming sound suddenly came from the sky behind them.

Benny turned, stunned, to see a dozen floating Airships heading straight for their position from the south.

A soldier immediately spotted the situation and shouted with a mix of shock and joy, “Those aren’t reconnaissance airships, it’s… it’s the high-speed airships of the Aerial Combat Mages! They’re here to reinforce us!”

When three figures stepped right out of the airships, hovering in the air on their own, the soldiers on the ground erupted into a frenzy.

“It’s high-rank battle mages!”

“Long live St. Valen! We don’t have to fight these monsters to the death anymore! Let’s work with the Mages and wipe them all out!”

“Long live Your Majesty! Let’s kill these bastards who attacked our station!”

Chapter 749: The Eve of Departure

“Sai Ke, what are you doing?”

Santas, equipping his Demon Armor, stepped heavily into the equipment room. He immediately spotted his comrade, who had finished training early, straddling the massive Demon Armor’s shoulder and painting something on it.

Before Sai Ke could answer, Santas lifted his own faceplate and leaned in for a closer look.

“Tsk… why are you painting all these marks on your armor? It’s so strange.”

Bale, who was also performing routine maintenance on his Demon Armor nearby, sighed and said softly, “Sai Ke is one of the Rootless People, just like me. Before he came to St. Valen… his home, the Silver Moon Oasis, was slaughtered by the Demonic Lizardmen. Thousands of his innocent kinsmen…”

Before he could finish, Sai Ke tossed aside his paintbrush, pointed at the marks on the Demon Armor’s shoulder, and said with hatred in his voice, “Bale’s right. I’m keeping a tally of the non-humans I’ve killed… Ever since I joined the army, I swore I’d make these damned monsters pay a blood debt in blood.”

Understanding dawned on Santas’s face, and he sighed with an apologetic expression. “The Demonic Lizardmen have turned Isengard into a hell on earth. It’s a shame our missions are mainly focused north of the barren lands. Otherwise, we could go to your homeland and fight them, helping you avenge your people sooner.”

As the three fell silent, Gregor hurried in from outside, his voice urgent. “Brothers, we’re getting a new mission soon!”

What?

Sai Ke’s eyes lit up, and he quickly asked, “Is it about what’s happening in Leru Grand Canyon? Are His Majesty and the General sending us?”

“Not just us… or rather, we alone aren’t enough to eliminate the enemy there. There will also be Bloodline Warriors and battle mages.”

Gallagher leaned in close to the three of them and whispered, “Don’t spread this around yet. Remember the confidentiality regulations… I heard the Chief Excellencies of the New Federation originally volunteered to go to the front lines themselves, but His Majesty rejected their proposal. Now, the battle plan from the General Staff is… for us Starfire Warriors, the Bloodline Warriors, and the high-level Mage Corps to coordinate, deploying more than half of the Kingdom’s superhuman units to jointly annihilate the enemy. The Northern Army’s long-range artillery units will also be providing support.”

Such a large-scale operation? Just to eliminate a small Floating Island fortress that appeared deep within the barren lands?

Just as they were about to discuss it further in hushed tones, the alchemical loudspeakers overhead suddenly blared. Doot-doot-doot.

It was the assembly call!

Dean, the Starfire Warriors’ Instructor, stood ramrod straight before the perfectly aligned soldiers, his hands clasped behind his back and his usual grim expression on his face.

“You are about to receive a very important combat mission. I imagine many of you have already heard some of the details from the gossip circulating within the military.”

He paused, then snorted coldly. “Although it isn’t a top-secret mission, I must remind you that not everyone can bear the punishment for violating confidentiality regulations. Remember the lessons you’ve learned before.”

As he spoke, he shot a sharp glare at Sai Ke and the other three at the front of the line, causing them to blush and lower their heads in shame.

“In a moment, an officer from the General Staff will personally come to deliver the operation orders. All of you, listen up. Don’t ask unnecessary questions. Remember that a soldier’s duty is to obey orders!”

A shiver went through the men, and they shouted in unison, “Yes, Sir.”

…

Before long, the Starfire Warriors’ training base received a summons from the Ministry of Defense and the General Staff.

Instructor Dean then led Sai Ke and the three other squad leaders to the military’s main conference room, where officers from the General Staff were already waiting to issue the mission briefing and explain the operational details.

Also attending the meeting were several officers from the Bloodline Warrior Spec Ops squad, as well as a few unfamiliar faces who, despite wearing the same officer uniforms, had an air and bearing that was clearly different from ordinary people.

Sai Ke stole a few cautious glances, thinking to himself that these must be the high-level caster officers rumored to command the Mage Corps.

Senior Staff Officer Dickinson and Ministry of Defense Commander Pierce were presiding over the meeting personally.

The two of them wasted no time, gathering everyone around a regional sand table. Referencing a massive map of the barren lands hanging on the wall, they began to explain the specifics of the mission.

“Let me state this upfront: this combat operation in the Leru Grand Canyon will be a coordinated effort between the Bloodline Warrior battle group, the Aerial Combat Mage Independent Regiment… and the Starfire Spec Ops squad. It is a small-scale surprise attack, which you can also consider a [decapitation strike].”

A decapitation… strike?

Sai Ke looked up at his instructor in confusion but didn’t dare interrupt the General’s speech.

“The operation will be divided into two phases… The potential situations are relatively complex, so the General Staff has formulated three different action plans to address them.”

As Dickinson spoke at length, he had someone distribute a thick stack of documents.

According to feedback from the Intelligence Department, the Demonic Lizardmen’s Floating Island Number 5, which has appeared in Leru Grand Canyon, is a non-human combat fortress comparable in size to Number Four Floating Island at Great Bear Lake. Preliminary estimates place the number of enemy combat units it carries at between seven thousand and ten thousand.

Considering the distribution of underground rivers provided by the Abyssal Sea Chart, the Floating Island is also highly likely to harbor a small number of heavy combat units, primarily Conch Beasts. They will also carry Spitter Worms as long-range weapons, and Evolved units like the Red Lizardmen and the Winged ones will certainly be present as well.

Therefore, the primary objective of the joint operation is to sink Floating Island Number 5 and annihilate all non-human effective strength on it.

The Northern Army’s artillery units have already been dispatched to the vicinity of the grand canyon ahead of other combat departments. In coordination with the garrison at the Great Bear Lake Base, they have established a temporary artillery position on the high ground of Wild Goose Mountain with maximum speed.

They will be responsible for firing the first shot of this operation.

The ground forces will coordinate simultaneously, establishing several defensive lines around the grand canyon to trap the enemy’s main force within the canyon area and prevent small groups from escaping.

Next comes the main event of this battle—

Once the operation begins, Floating Island Number 5, likely guided by the non-human race’s main consciousness, will first attempt to destroy the long-range artillery position that poses the greatest threat to them… This means the enemy will dispatch a large number of aerial combat units to attack Wild Goose Mountain, which is over five kilometers away from the canyon.

At this point, Dickinson’s voice rose, his eyes burning as he looked at the representatives of the three parties present.

“And among these aerial combat units dispatched from the Floating Island, there will very likely be one or more high-rank Evolved ones—identical to the beings we encountered on the ice sea front. They will be the enemy targets that pose the greatest threat to us!”

He raised his hand and pointed to the location of the Wild Goose Mountain artillery position on the map, his voice deep. “Your mission is to wait until the Evolved ones are lured to Wild Goose Mountain, and then do everything in your power to encircle and annihilate them. Even if you cannot kill them on the spot, you must pin them down at all costs to buy time for the ground forces outside the canyon to launch their attack!”

Sai Ke’s heart leaped as he instantly understood.

So the so-called [decapitation strike] was aimed at decapitating the non-human Evolved ones… the very beings rumored to be able to withstand an assault from more than ten high-level battle mages!

Chapter 750: Army Physician

A vast convoy of several dozen military wheeled vehicles traveled across the Northern Barren Lands, startling birds and beasts from the dense forests along the way.

The dirt road, crudely carved out of the pristine wilderness by alchemical beasts, made the journey exceptionally difficult and bumpy, even for military vehicles equipped with six pairs of road wheels and assisted by metal tracks.

Simmons clutched his standard-issue medical bag, squeezed awkwardly with the others inside an enclosed military vehicle, and stared ceaselessly out the window.

Their group of priests and clerics, conscripted from the Holy City Goris, had completed the preliminary medical training course over half a month ago. They were immediately broken up from their original units and stuffed into various logistics medical teams.

High Priest Donovan was advanced in years. Fortunately, the official in charge of assignments was reasonable enough to give the old high priest a post at the nearby River Valley Outpost. According to the agreement between the Emperor and the Holy City, all of them could, after serving St. Valen for five years, choose to voluntarily join the United Kingdom as a true professional military doctor… or return to the Holy City Goris as a free man.

As for young priests like Simmons, it was no surprise at all that they were transferred to the far-flung depths of the barren lands… It was said that the Valen people were engaged in a continuous battle there against the non-human calamity from the north.

Now that the moment had truly come to be sent to the battlefield, the great weight that had been hanging over Simmons’s heart finally settled.

The High Priest had been right. As practitioners of a divine faith, they, the priests of the Holy See, were duty-bound to go to the front lines. Alongside the soldiers fighting on the front lines, they were to shoulder the sacred responsibility of defending the south.

After his time studying at the Battlefield Medical Center, he and the other priests and clerics had come to a deep realization: the importance of saving lives on the battlefield was in no way secondary to fighting the non-human enemy directly.

The medical bag he clutched contained a complete set of supplies for battlefield first aid… from hemostatic bandages and emergency medicine to surgical instruments, it had everything. It would allow military doctors to treat the wounded with their own experience and skills, even in the harshest conditions of the trenches.

The medical team Simmons belonged to consisted of over thirty military doctors, and they were accompanied by an ambulance team of nearly a hundred. Once they reached the front… it meant they would be responsible for the entire chain of tasks, from emergency first aid and casualty evacuation to triage and treatment. There was no room for the slightest mistake.

“Doctor Simmons?”

As he was staring blankly, dazed by the violent jolting of the wheeled vehicle, Simmons was suddenly nudged by a colleague beside him and instantly snapped back to his senses.

The military doctor sitting next to him was a few years younger, having successfully graduated from the Battlefield Medical Center in his early twenties to become a battlefield physician with a real military rank.

“Doctor Wylan… what is it?”

The young military doctor, Wylan, chuckled and leaned in to chat with him. “Doctor Simmons, do you know our destination? Or what our mission is?”

Simmons shook his head with a wry smile and said self-deprecatingly, “Doctor Wylan, surely you know my status? People like us… like me… those of us who were formerly priests of the Holy See, what right or qualification do we have to know about military operations? I just do as I’m told.”

Wylan froze for a moment, then it dawned on him, and he remembered his colleague’s sensitive identity as a ‘former Priest of the Holy See.’ He lowered his voice in embarrassment, “Heh… look at my memory. All that studying for the medical exams before we left must have fried my brain.”

Despite being an ‘orthodox’ St. Valen from Grizzly Keep, Wylan held no disdain for Simmons’s background with the Church. Furthermore, Simmons was slightly older and had performed exceptionally well during their training at the medical center, which naturally inspired a greater sense of trust.

“This information isn’t actually covered by confidentiality regulations… Doctor Simmons, you probably don’t know, but our destination is a place called Wild Goose Mountain.”

Wild Goose Mountain?

Simmons looked confused, repeating the name under his breath. Then, he immediately understood. “We’re not going to any of the existing military bases in the barren lands… but a real wilderness battlefield?”

“That’s right.” Wylan nodded, then said with a grimace, “Our very first campaign with the army, and it’s such a tough mission… We won’t have the convenience of an established medical station at a military base. We’ll have to rely on our own strength to build a field hospital from scratch in the wild.”

No wonder their team was carrying so many medical supplies, even bringing more than ten medical alchemical beasts for surgery. And, contrary to usual practice, they hadn’t used the continental teleportation array. Instead, they had formed a convoy and were following behind the main Northern Army, making the long trek to the designated area.

A wilderness battlefield meant the army had no permanent defensive fortifications to rely on. Aside from the front-line soldiers, logistics and medical personnel like them would have to take on greater risks to support the battle, and the danger level would naturally multiply.

Simmons glanced around and saw that the young military doctors in the vehicle with him showed no signs of fear or worry at all. They were either resting with their eyes closed or reading their medical manuals with calm attitudes… Only a few who suffered from severe motion sickness still looked pale and on the verge of vomiting, even after taking Motion sickness medicine.

“You all know the details of this operation? It’s your first time on a campaign, aren’t you afraid?”

After some deliberation, Simmons couldn’t help but ask.

But Wylan just shrugged, unconcerned. “Of course I’m scared… I’m scared I have too little practical experience and won’t be able to save more wounded soldiers when I get to the battlefield. You know, we didn’t get many chances for hands-on practice at the medical center.”

Simmons actually knew about this… Although the Kingdom and its capital were founded by Spellcasters, most people’s actions were not as heretical or blasphemous as one might imagine. At the very least, his initial suspicion that they used living people for healing magic experiments had turned out to be a completely baseless rumor.

The Battlefield Medical Center, just like the National General Hospital, heavily used captured vile orc prisoners from the barren lands for surgical training and live dissections… These human subspecies were almost identical to humans in their physical structure, and using them for live experiments didn’t create much of a psychological burden.

Wylan’s words sent Simmons into deep thought.

Ever since arriving in the capital, Starfire City, he had discovered that these Valen people seemed to hold an almost blind faith in and reverence for the strength of their new nation. This led them to believe the army was invincible, and so they had no fear of going to the battlefield.

What should have been a dangerous place on the line between life and death, under a hail of gunfire, was like a normal job to these young people… Could this be what the teaching director had inadvertently mentioned to them during their studies…

“National pride” and a “sense of ownership”?

Chapter 751: The Hunter and the Prey

Deep within the Northern Barren Lands, Wild Goose Mountain.

Fell Hoden, the Son of Flame, lowered the spyglass in his hand and said to the Stormwalker, his close comrade standing beside him, “The Demonic Lizardmen’s activity around the canyon’s perimeter is becoming more frequent. It looks like they’ll soon begin infiltrating the surrounding area.”

Wild Goose Mountain was nearly ten kilometers away from Leru Grand Canyon. Despite the high vantage point, it was impossible to get a clear view of the canyon’s interior with reconnaissance spells and Alchemical spyglasses alone.

To avoid spooking the target, the Northern Army had not dispatched reconnaissance airships into the canyon to investigate. They allowed the non-human race’s Floating Island hidden inside to gradually establish its footing and begin sending out scattered Winged ones to expand their area of activity.

Stormwalker Matthews Willy said in a deep voice, “The artillery position will be ready tonight. We are only waiting for the order from the forward command at Great Bear Lake to begin a long-range bombardment of the canyon.”

The Fire Mage nodded and, after a moment of contemplation, said, “If the enemy’s Evolved ones appear, we high-level Mages will once again take the lead in battle. Tell the Bloodline Warriors not to be rash; they’ll only be throwing their lives away against such powerful enemies.”

Stormwalker gave a wry smile. “What about the Starfire Warriors trained by His Majesty? Don’t you trust their combat abilities?”

“I trust His Majesty’s foresight and arrangements, but most of these people are new recruits of mortal origin with almost zero combat experience… I don’t believe that simply by being equipped with a suit of alchemical Demon Armor fused with a Beast Soul, they can gain the ability to join the ranks of the extraordinary.”

Just then, Callum arrived, and upon hearing this, hesitated for a moment before interjecting, “Colonel, you don’t need to worry. The Starfire Warriors’ Demon Armor is a weapon of war specifically developed to counter the Demonic Lizardmen. Compared to us who fight with our flesh and blood, they can withstand the lightning attacks of the Red Lizardmen and Winged ones with just their armor. Projectiles like black crystalline spikes are no different from a tickle to them.”

With the leader of the Bloodline Warrior Spec Ops squad speaking up, it wasn’t convenient for the two high-level Mages to publicly question the Emperor’s decision. After a long silence, the Son of Flame slowly said, “In that case, have them cut off the target’s retreat route… In any case, we plan to lure that thing to Wild Goose Mountain for an ambush.”

…

“It’s about time…” Lynx, the vice commander of the Independent Artillery Regiment, paced back and forth on the fully prepared position, occasionally turning to urge the Communications Officer beside him, “Contact the Great Bear Lake command again. Ask when the order to attack will be given!”

Looking north from the peak of Wild Goose Mountain, the setting sun was like blood between the vast sky and the barren lands. In the endless, dark-green primordial forest, startled wild birds could be seen taking flight from time to time. As night approached, mournful howls of beasts could be heard from all directions.

In the distance, Leru Grand Canyon was also bathed in the blood-red sunset, its tranquility accentuated by the encroaching twilight… But everyone knew what dangers lurked within that apparent silence.

Before Lynx could urge him again, the Communications Officer finally received the order from command. “Battalion commander, command has ordered the bombardment to begin in ten minutes!”

Lynx’s eyes lit up, and he pressed, “What are the specific firing orders?”

“The General says to commence a saturation strike… until the target in the canyon is completely destroyed.”

This meant that the Wild Goose Mountain artillery position had to unhesitatingly unleash tens of thousands of shells into the canyon, an area with a diameter of about one and a half kilometers. By the time the strike was over, the entire center of the canyon would probably be thoroughly plowed over by shells, and the lower depressions would even be filled in.

The last of the setting sun sank completely below the distant horizon.

Then, the first cannon blast finally thundered from the peak of Wild Goose Mountain…

The Northern Army executed the bombardment with practiced ease. It began with several volleys of solid shot. Then, reconnaissance airships patrolling the canyon’s perimeter calibrated the impact points and provided timely feedback. The artillery position received the coordinates, quickly adjusted its firing angles, and immediately followed with another volley. The sound of several hundred artillery pieces firing simultaneously was simply heaven-and-earth-shaking.

“Bzzzt—bzzzt—The enemy inside the canyon is reacting—bzzzt—A large number of Winged ones are taking to the air—”

“’Currently—bzzzt—unable to observe the Floating Island’s situation—bzzzt—Please maintain covering fire!”

Clearly, under such a heavy bombardment, apart from the winged species who could take to the air to evade the shells, the vast majority of Demonic Lizardmen warriors on the ground had no way to escape. A few of them active on the periphery might find cover in the canyon walls to hide, but the Floating Island, standing stiffly in the center, could only take the hits passively.

The floating Airship carrying the Son of Flame hovered high above the artillery position. Behind it, hundreds of Airships of the same model took off one after another, already prepared for battle.

“Now that the battle has started, I’m feeling a bit conflicted…” the Fire Mage let out a chuckle at Stormwalker and said slowly, “For a moment, I can’t decide if I’m hoping there’s really an Evolved one in the canyon, or if I hope the damned thing doesn’t show up at all.”

The brutal victory on the ice sea front, the heroic sacrifice of several close comrades… still weighed heavily on the Fire Mage. To this day, it wasn’t that he feared facing it again, but that his eagerness for revenge was intertwined with his hope for a successful mission.

Stormwalker was taken aback for a moment, then said softly, “His Majesty and the General Staff’s judgment is almost certainly correct. If not to deliver an Evolved one here, they would never dispatch a Floating Island to its death for no reason…”

Humans had driven a “nail”—a permanent military base—deep into the Ice Sea Tundra. These Demonic Lizardmen, who also possessed high intelligence, would naturally do everything in their power to counter it. The best strategy, of course, was to rely on the advantage of submerged travel through the underground rivers of the abyss, directly bypassing the human defense lines on the surface and silently eroding their strategic depth.

The Son of Flame nodded in agreement. “Right, everyone’s thinking along the same lines… It looks like they intend to shorten our strategic depth, using the Floating Island’s submerged travel to advance, create breakthroughs in the inland barren lands that the Northern Army can’t fully monitor, and use those as strongholds to launch a general assault on our main base, the capital.”

The artillery position below them continued to roar. The two waited a little longer, until the Fire Mage finally couldn’t hold back any longer. He picked up the communicator and tried to contact the reconnaissance squad on the canyon’s perimeter again.

“Bzzzt—bzzzt—Colonel?”

“What’s the situation?”

“The Winged ones—bzzzt—have spotted us. They’re gathering—bzzzt—attempting to pursue—”

The Son of Flame frowned and pressed, “Have you found the main target of this operation yet?”

“Bzzzt—Currently n—bzzzt—Watch out!”

From the communicator, which was emitting intermittent static, a warning cry, noticeably louder, suddenly came through.

Before the two high-level Mages could react, the communication signal was abruptly cut off. Less than a few seconds passed… before another communication came through the alchemical communicator.

“Bzzzt—Colonel, suspected target spotted! I repeat… suspected target spotted! It… it just attacked one of our reconnaissance squads and is now heading for the Wild Goose Mountain position at full speed!”

The main event of this operation, the very target the Northern Army had set a trap for, hoping to lure the snake out of its hole… the high-rank Evolved one of the Demonic Lizardmen, had finally appeared!

Chapter 752: The Encirclement

The flight speed of the high-rank Demonic Lizardman Evolved one was incredibly swift. It shot up into the sky from the Leru Grand Canyon, casually attacking two Airship squads patrolling the periphery to scout the battle situation along the way. In the end, it only took a few minutes before it arrived at the foot of Wild Goose Mountain in an instant.

The artillery position set up in the mountain’s peak valley was still thundering ceaselessly as shells rained down like a dense shower towards the distant canyon. The tremors from the bombardment echoed continuously through the mountains, scaring away even the surrounding birds and beasts.

The Evolved one’s swollen single eye on its chest opened slightly, revealing a complex expression, just like a human’s… It seemed to be in awe that this lower race, regarded as outcasts among their own kind, could wield such terrifying, earth-shaking power.

It was only after this momentary pause that two incandescent white beams, carrying mana fluctuations too dense to ignore, suddenly shot out from the dense forest, streaking towards it from different directions.

This speed… was several times faster than the Evolved one’s full-speed flight.

The two magical energy beams converged in an instant, but the Evolved one, which had been locked on to just a moment ago, suddenly vanished on the spot. A few seconds later, it reappeared out of thin air several meters away.

It had used its innate talent to tear open the plane, using a spatial fissure to dodge the guaranteed-hit sneak attack.

The moment it reappeared, several more beams shot out from the dense forest below, also coming from different directions at once… completely cutting off all room for it to dodge or maneuver.

The Evolved one’s movement to slip into a spatial fissure was a fraction too slow, and a beam grazed past its slender, twisted arm. The pure Magic Net energy directly blasted off a piece of its deep red crystal armor, revealing the flesh underneath, which was constantly writhing and knitting itself back together.

The single, half-closed eye on its chest suddenly widened. It had not expected this pure energy beam to be capable of inflicting such damage on its mutated crystal armor.

Remaining in the air would undoubtedly make it a sitting duck with no way to fight back, and it hadn’t even caught a glimpse of those despicable Humans. After dodging the second wave of attacks, the Evolved one decisively chose to descend to the ground, intending to use the complex terrain of the dense forest to engage its attackers in close-quarters combat.

The moment its feet touched the ground, a squad of Bloodline Warriors, armed with swords and guns, emerged from their hiding places. It seemed they had predicted its next move perfectly. As soon as the two sides met, a chaotic melee erupted.

To the Evolved one’s great annoyance, these human transcendent beings who had awakened their bloodline talents also had a pure, abnormal energy surging within them. It was completely unlike the energy of Spellcasters, which could be corroded and dissolved by its power. It could only resort to using black water weapons and red-light lightning, several times stronger than those of ordinary Demonic Lizardmen, planning to end the fight quickly and break free from their entanglement.

But these Humans had no intention of fighting it to the death. Although many people surrounded it, they were almost all focused on skirmishing. They used their melee weapons for close-range defense with one hand, while unexpectedly aiming and firing explosive bolt guns with the other. Their coordination was so perfect that they managed to repel its attacks several times.

Through the gaps in the dense forest canopy overhead, several piercingly bright beams of light suddenly shone through. Dozens of floating Airships were hovering in the distance, having appeared at some unknown time. The magic stone searchlights mounted on their prows were all focused on this spot, illuminating the once dark and gloomy forest clearing as if it were broad daylight.

The Demonic Lizardman Evolved one stood in the middle of the clearing, its bulging single eye scanning the surroundings… It still couldn’t find a single trace of a Spellcaster.

…

The Son of Flame leaned against the observation window of the Airship gondola, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the Eye of Illusion. Both held a “big gun” that far exceeded normal dimensions. It was the single-shot beam sniper rifle, an evolution of the “Magical Energy Barrett.”

To achieve the mission’s objective, nearly every high-level Mage present was equipped with one of these custom weapons. Based on previous experience fighting the non-human race’s Evolved ones, as long as they didn’t cast spells using their own mana, they wouldn’t give it an opportunity to corrode and dissolve their mana.

Behind each of them stood another high-rank Mage. Stormwalker Matthews Willy and the Astrologer each placed a hand on their gun-wielding comrade’s shoulder. They were using linked casting to create a mana resonance, providing the shooters with an abundant supply of mana.

A magical energy weapon like the single-shot beam sniper rifle was no longer individual firepower that an ordinary mortal could handle. Each hyper-concentrated beam fired from the barrel contained an extremely dense amount of pure magical energy. This concentration was so high that it was impossible to convert it into liquid form and compress it into ammunition. The only way was to directly draw mana from the user’s body, which was then instantly reversed and used by the miniature power-focusing core inside the gun.

Conversely, Bloodline Warriors, who naturally possessed abnormal energy in their bodies, could directly operate this magic gun without needing the energy reversal. However, the number of times they could pull the trigger was far less than a Spellcaster. Even a high-rank warrior like Vaughn could barely manage three shots before becoming exhausted and listless.

This meant that two high-rank Mages casting jointly could infuse the magic gun with enough mana to support over ten continuous shots. And the majority of Starfire City’s high-level Mages gathered in the floating Airships were enough to form a dense sniper network, ensuring that this non-human Evolved one below, who had rashly stepped into their preset trap… would be on a one-way trip!

“Can we get the Airship any closer…” The Son of Flame raised his gun, annoyed. He was unable to lock onto the phantom in his scope. The Evolved one was simply too fast, and with its constant use of spatial teleportation, it gave him no opening to strike.

Of course, Colonel Hoden himself would never admit to his own poor marksmanship. Even though he knew he was far inferior to the “magic sharpshooter” Eye of Illusion beside him, being pushed into this task meant he was still much better than Stormwalker, who was gripping his shoulder and frantically pouring mana into him.

That one was the true “master of outlining,” famous throughout the military.

The Astrologer shook his head slightly and said coldly, “We can’t get any closer. This is the maximum distance at which the Airship can remain unaffected by the enemy’s corrosive ability. Any closer… and it will immediately sense the Airship’s Magic Core. We won’t be far from losing control and crashing.”

The Eye of Illusion, however, tilted his head and chuckled lightly. “Don’t be impatient. Just wait… An opportunity for a fatal blow will present itself.”

The Bloodline Warriors currently entangled with the enemy below were, in essence, human traps sent to tie up and wear down the target. As long as they could keep it tangled in combat long enough, the non-human Evolved one’s patience would eventually run out. It would eventually give up on annihilating the troublesome Humans in front of it and choose to break away from the battlefield to head straight for the artillery position on the mountain peak.

After all, that was its primary objective for coming here. Every minute of delay meant hundreds more shells would mercilessly smash down upon the Floating Island in the canyon. Destroying and sinking it would only be a matter of time.

Chapter 753: The Breakthrough

A massive boulder was caught by a chain formed of condensed black water, then hurled violently toward three Bloodline Warriors who were holding a defensive formation. Wolf Head, the squad leader at the forefront, had no time to dodge. Taking a deep breath, he stirred the frenzied bloodline surging through his body and raised his alchemical longblade horizontally, preparing to meet the blow head-on.

Another warrior two steps behind him rushed forward, his bulging arms reaching out, intending to use his own awakened Great Strength talent to block the incoming boulder for his comrade at the last possible second.

Boom—

Even with the combined strength of two high-rank warriors, they were sent flying by the impact. Though they escaped with no broken bones, a clear gap had appeared in their once-tight defensive formation.

The Evolved Demonic Lizardman seemed to have anticipated this. Spotting the breakthrough point in the encirclement, its feet immediately lifted off the ground. In a state of low-altitude flight, it prepared to dive headfirst into the deep darkness of the primeval forest.

Several warriors immediately noticed the enemy’s intention. They simultaneously gave up their skirmishing on the outer circle and charged toward the target, weapons in hand.

The Evolved one’s rapidly flying figure suddenly flickered and vanished, reappearing moments later beside the few warriors who were rushing to fill the defensive gap. The crimson crystal armor covering its body pulsed with light, and its body trembled violently—

Hundreds of fine, deep-red plasma streams erupted outward, instantly engulfing the surrounding warriors.

The floating Airship hovering at low altitude kept its searchlight beam focused on the area. Less than five steps from the Evolved one, in a patch of shadow cast by the forest canopy under the searchlight, a figure suddenly leaped out. The explosive bolt gun in his hands was practically pressed against the enemy’s back as he pulled the trigger.

This was a high-rank warrior who had awakened a “Concealment” bloodline.

With a loud bang, the gun fired!

The Evolved one’s body lurched forward. Fine cracks appeared on the surface of the deep crimson crystal armor on its back. Even at point-blank range, the large-caliber Magical Energy Bullets from the explosive bolt gun couldn’t pierce its armor directly like a focused beam could.

Reacting in an instant, the Evolved one twisted its body with an unnatural contortion that no human could possibly imitate. A black crystal spear materialized in its hand and was instantly thrown, piercing the ambusher’s body before he could fire a second shot and pinning him to the ground.

It was this fierce and unafraid-of-death action that tangled its feet just as it was about to escape. The defensive line of flesh and blood formed by hundreds of Bloodline Warriors immediately closed again, surrounding it in layer upon layer once more.

In the sky, dozens of single-shot beam sniper rifles constantly tracked its figure. Forget flying up to escape; even the slightest hesitation in its movements on the ground would immediately draw a sniper beam pulsing with dense mana fluctuations.

As time ticked by, the swollen, single eye on the Evolved one’s chest and abdomen, which had been only slightly squinted, was now wide open. A soul-stealing red light flashed intermittently within its giant pupil, forcing the battle mages in the Airship, who were standing by with their rifles, to avert their gazes. They couldn’t bear the oppressive feeling, like facing a natural enemy.

Son of Flame and Stormwalker had personally experienced this strange “death-stare” ability. The moment their line of sight made contact, their mana would dissolve and verge on depletion in an instant.

With the cautionary tale of these two as a warning, the other mid- and high-rank warriors dared not test it themselves, lest they fall prey to its erosive counter.

The sniper lock from the sky vanished for a few brief seconds, and the Evolved one once again seized the opportunity to create an opening for escape.

Its crimson figure flickered and vanished again. This time, however, it remained within the planar rift for much longer than before. By the time the besieging Bloodline Warriors on the ground found it again, it had unexpectedly reappeared beside a massive, tall tree on one side of the encirclement.

Before anyone could react and adjust their formation, the Evolved one entered a planar rift once more… followed by a third time, and a fourth. The continuous, frequent flashes seemed to be taking a considerable toll on it; even the color of its crystal armor had dimmed significantly.

But this allowed it to successfully break out of the encirclement in the forest. When it appeared for the last time, it was already at the very edge of the searchlight’s beam. One more turn, and it would disappear completely into the darkness.

“Damn it! It’s getting away!”

Son of Flame growled in frustration. He raised his sniper rifle to aim, only to lower it again in futility a moment later.

The Bloodline Warriors below, tasked with bogging down the enemy, were in complete disarray. They rushed forward one after another, trying to intercept the target, which in turn made it impossible for the mages in the air to lock onto the Evolved one and fire a fatal shot.

The Eye of Illusion also straightened up. He looked in the direction of the Evolved one’s escape, a cold smile touching his lips.

“After bogging this thing down here for so long, the black water and red light stored in its body are clearly close to depletion. Even its planar travel ability looks strained after being used so frequently…”

The Astrologer nodded and added, “Its escape route is perfectly in line with our plan. It wants to avoid being intercepted from the air, use the forest and the night as cover, and break through to the artillery position on the summit from the foot of the mountain to achieve its primary objective.”

Unfortunately for it, there was a “secret unit” that had long been waiting halfway up the mountain… the Starfire Warriors, formed by His Majesty the Emperor’s direct order and in whom he had placed great hope.

Not only were they completely immune to the Evolved one’s mana-draining abilities, but their exceptionally sturdy Magicalized Armor also possessed defensive capabilities far superior to those of the Bloodline Warriors. The custom-made magical energy shotguns they wielded had both single-beam and area magic-burst firing modes, and their chainswords could easily cut through any metal. They were, in a sense, an “artificial natural enemy” created specifically to counter the non-human races.

…

In a hollow on a cliff halfway up the mountain, a squad of about thirty Starfire Warriors lay in a fully-armed ambush behind natural cover near the rock face.

Through the towering forest canopy above, they could occasionally glimpse a high-speed airship zipping past. The bright white light from its searchlight trickled through the treetops, casting specks of light on the ground and bringing fleeting moments of brightness to the otherwise ink-black mountain hollow.

Sai Ke had led his team here to lie in wait since the afternoon. For seven or eight long hours, he had remained motionless inside his Demon Armor, his eyes fixed on the foot of the mountain, completely unconcerned that his entire body was soaked in sweat.

His first official combat mission was against the legendary, most powerful of the non-human races—the Evolved ones… terrifying beings that had even defeated high-rank battle mages.

Although they were only a backup plan for the operation, responsible for blocking the halfway point of the mountain and intercepting any enemy that might break through, Sai Ke couldn’t help but feel both nervous and excited. Throughout the long wait, his body had been trembling uncontrollably.

But this wasn’t out of fear of the enemy or death. Ever since arriving, he had subconsciously maintained a shallow fusion with the Bloodclaw Bear soul within his Demon Armor. The demonic beast’s primitive, frenzied mental energy continuously washed over his mind, keeping him in a state of bloodthirsty excitement.

“Chief, is that monster really going to come up this way? What if the traps we set at the foot of the mountain didn’t work?”

Before setting out, the Kingdom’s Alchemy Laboratory had installed miniature alchemical communicators in their Demon Armor, allowing them to communicate with teammates without having to lift their visors, even in the heat of battle.

However, the communicator’s signal range was only about half a kilometer, unable to receive Magic Net signals from tens of kilometers away like a full-sized communicator could.

Hearing his subordinate’s somewhat strained question, Sai Ke couldn’t help but hiss in a low voice, “Shut up. Don’t you know how to observe the regulations for strict silence? Everyone, wait patiently!”

The decoy unit, composed of a battalion headquarters’ worth of Bloodline Warriors and over ten high-rank battle mages, would surely not fail. The best outcome would be to intercept and kill the target on the spot.

If something unexpected happened, the Starfire Warriors’ responsibility was simply to do everything in their power to stop it from breaking through their line and reaching the artillery position on the summit.

For over ten kilometers in every direction, Wild Goose Mountain was surrounded by all manner of human combat units. With that level of reinforcement to back them up, Sai Ke didn’t think there was anything to worry about.

Chapter 754: Ambush

Time ticked by, second by second, yet the Starfire Warriors lying in ambush on the mountainside still hadn’t seen the enemy.

This mountain pass was one of the few shortcuts for anyone trying to break through and ascend from the ground. If the target planned an aerial assault… the floating Airships patrolling nearby would immediately detect its presence. A skirmish breaking out in the sky would certainly cause enough commotion for the ground troops to notice.

Could it be that the units stationed at the foot of the mountain had already successfully intercepted and killed the Evolved one?

For some reason, Sai Ke felt a vague sense of dejection. Being unable to personally join the battle and make a significant contribution to the operation made the highly anticipated Starfire Warriors… seem to have little presence at all.

“Chief, look!” a soldier on lookout duty hissed. “There’s movement in the woods below!”

Sai Ke snapped back to attention and peered down. In the deep darkness of the primeval forest, blinding flashes of light erupted, looking at first as if someone had set off fireworks.

Wait! Something was wrong!

Within the entire Starfire Spec Ops squad, only the “Demonic Wolves” led by Gallagher had been ordered not to lie in ambush but to patrol a small area around the mountain pass, using their innate tracking and hunting abilities.

And the area where the lights and strange commotion appeared was one of their designated patrol routes!

“Contact Gallagher’s Squad immediately! Ask them what’s happening!” Sai Ke narrowed his eyes, a sense of foreboding rising in his heart. “I hope it’s just an accidental encounter with a stray Demonic beast…”

A harsh static buzzed from the alchemical communicator, followed by another series of fiery explosions in the woods, this time closer to their ambush position.

“Bzzzt—bzzzt—Gallagher’s Squad—bzz—has encountered the enemy!”

“We—bzz—are luring it to the ambush zone—bzz—Prepare to engage!”

The sudden voice blasting in his ear was like a bucket of cold water dumped over Sai Ke’s head. The combat units deployed at the foot of the mountain had failed to intercept this non-human monster. As expected, it had seized an opportunity to charge up the mountain!

The target had also shrewdly avoided the aerial interception, planning to sneak through the dense forest on the ground and launch a silent surprise attack on the summit.

In that case, it was only natural that it couldn’t evade the patrol line the Starfire Warriors had set up in advance. Once the “Demonic Wolves,” who excelled at pack hunting, were let loose in the wild, they could instantly perceive and lock onto even the faintest movements of the surrounding birds and beasts.

“The wolf cubs have engaged the target! They’re luring it to the designated ambush point. Prepare to engage!”

Sai Ke practically forced the words through gritted teeth. Inside his Demon Armor, his body trembled even more violently as danger approached. The battle he had been craving was about to begin!

…

The Evolved one’s rapid sprint came to a sudden halt. The single eye slightly open on its chest swiveled its pupil in a very human-like way.

It seemed to realize that its movements were now completely grasped by the humans. From the battle that had just erupted at the foot of the mountain, it was clear the other side was fully prepared. All their measures were meant to slow it down and prevent it from reaching the summit to destroy the target that posed the greatest threat to its race.

From the moment of its birth, the main consciousness had instilled a great deal of knowledge in it. The most important lesson was to be wary of the Spellcasters among humans who wielded mana, and the bizarre attack methods they possessed from the Legacy Core.

Those ordinary metallic substances, which couldn’t possibly serve as energy carriers, were somehow able to unleash terrifying power capable of inflicting devastating damage even on their split-form carriers. Since the war began… the two split-form carriers their race had brought from the deep sea had both been destroyed by those world-shattering bombardments.

Of course, this also strengthened the main consciousness’s resolve to reclaim the Legacy Core. As long as they defeated this despicable lower race once more and seized the core that had been stolen from them, their entire race would surely achieve its final evolution and ascension.

After shaking off the group of human Spellcasters who had intercepted it, the Evolved one had carefully avoided the enemy’s aerial patrol units during its advance up the mountain. The pure energy weapons equipped on their carriers posed a significant threat, and it was best to remain concealed until it had achieved its ultimate goal.

But just now, it had unexpectedly encountered a squad of human soldiers in a strange state.

These beings, with not a hint of mana flowing in their bodies, were completely encased in ordinary fused and forged metal. Though they appeared bulky, their movements were extremely swift, like true nocturnal beasts in the pitch-black forest.

They had spotted it almost instantly but did not choose to engage. Instead, after a garbled exchange through their metal shells, they decisively turned and fled up the mountain.

The Evolved one was certain they were not Spellcasters, nor were they like the human soldiers who had besieged it earlier, their bodies surging with the same abnormal energy as its own.

They were just a group of ordinary humans stuffed in tin cans, carrying glistening metal weapons on their backs. This primitive method of forging solid weapons from molten metal was so primitive and inferior compared to its own race’s mimetic weapons, which were condensed and transformed from liquid demonic crystals, that it was laughable.

If the enemy hadn’t obtained the power of ascension from the stolen Legacy Core to strengthen themselves, they would have long been crushed like insects. They wouldn’t have suffered several defeats for no reason as soon as they made landfall.

With that thought, the Evolved one immediately sprang into action, chasing after the group of iron-helmets.

Although they were a group of harmless insects, since it had encountered them, it had to eliminate them to prevent them from raising an alarm and attracting the transcendent beings from the foot of the mountain.

As it thought, its body flickered in a flash during its sprint. It executed several consecutive instances of planar travel, catching up in a matter of moments to a target at the very back of the fleeing group.

To conserve the already scarce liquid demonic crystal in its body, as well as the abnormal energy that fueled its long-range attacks, the Evolved one simply extended a slender, twisted arm and grabbed for the shoulder of the human who was running for his life.

It intended to use the enhancement of the crystal armor enveloping its body to pierce this tin can containing a feeble human straight through with a purely physical attack.

However, when its palm made contact with the surface of the armor, it didn’t feel the familiar coldness, and its hardness far exceeded that of ordinary forged metal. At the very least, it couldn’t be easily penetrated by the crystal armor covering its body alone.

Was this something the humans had developed specifically to counter their mimetic weapons?

Just then, the human whose shoulder it had grabbed suddenly twisted his body and raised his left arm towards it. From the front of a short, thick metal tube, which seemed to be fixed to the outside of his forearm with a mechanical clasp, a blinding white light suddenly erupted.

Chapter 755: Fierce Battle

Boom—

A single beam from the magical energy shotgun hit the pursuing Evolved one almost point-blank. Although its body twisted bizarrely to dodge at the last possible second, its left shoulder, covered in deep red crystal armor, was still directly blown half to pieces.

A few palm-sized fragments of crystal armor flew off, melting and dissolving in mid-air before they could even hit the ground.

The human soldier who had been grabbed by the Evolved one was thrown back several meters by the blast wave from the close-range shot. He was immediately helped up by two comrades, and they continued to retreat towards the mountain pass.

The torn flesh on the Evolved one’s shoulder writhed, and the wound sealed and repaired itself in a matter of moments. However, the color of the crystal armor covering its body had dimmed slightly—a considerable injury for it.

The single eye on its chest and abdomen widened, staring intently at the rapidly fleeing figures of the human soldiers. It couldn’t fathom how ordinary humans, with no mana fluctuations whatsoever—beings even weaker than the most insignificant, inferior warriors of its race—could control weapons that released such terrifying energy.

The Legacy Core should not have been able to grant the entire race a uniform, synchronized upgrade. Only the Evolved ones could truly master the core. The end result would be the strong becoming stronger. Ordinary individuals, the cornerstone of the race’s proliferation, would at most receive boons from their superiors; they wouldn’t just gain great power out of thin air.

Every powerful race also had to undergo cruel internal competition. The rulers who could stand at the apex and lead the race to glory and prosperity were always few.

What was even stranger was that since these ordinary humans possessed power that could threaten it, why did they still choose to flee after counterattacking? Did it mean that their ability to use this power was severely limited?

At this thought, the giant eye on the Evolved one’s chest flickered. A very tempting idea couldn’t help but surface.

If it could snatch those strange and powerful energy weapons from these clearly weak human individuals and bring them back to the race’s birthplace to be handed over to the main consciousness, perhaps a strategy to counter them could be analyzed from the weapons.

The benefits this could bring to the race might even surpass accomplishing its mission of destroying the enemy’s position on the mountaintop today.

Weighing the pros and cons, the Evolved one immediately shot forward again. Just as it was about to catch up with the human individual at the rear of the squad, the man, as if he had eyes on the back of his head, spun around without hesitation and fired another shot.

Already on guard, it immediately used its planar travel ability, instantly escaping the weapon’s area of effect. A few moments later, it reappeared to the side and rear of the squad. The battle to encircle and kill at the foot of the mountain had consumed too much abnormal energy, causing the time it took to reappear in the real world after each planar travel to be extended.

Using the opportunity created by the shot, the human squad in front of it managed to get far away again.

The closer they got to the mountaintop, the more likely they were to receive reinforcements. Eventually, those powerful human Spellcasters from the foot of the mountain would probably catch up from behind. It had to end this quickly in this mountain pass; once it succeeded, it would flee immediately.

Having made up its mind, the Evolved one no longer held back. It used planar travel consecutively, its form flickering rapidly three times before finally appearing directly in front of the fleeing human squad, completely blocking their path up the mountain at the pass.

However, the very moment it revealed itself for the last time, the massive single eye on its chest and abdomen suddenly sensed numerous gazes converging on it. In the originally quiet and gloomy dense forest, more ordinary humans in “iron cans” had appeared at some point, blocking it in the pass from both front and rear.

The Evolved one stopped, its posture suggesting it was somewhat stunned.

These weakest of mortals among the humans had actually set an ambush in advance, specifically luring it here?

Unfortunately, these inferior individuals couldn’t even wield mana. The Evolved one couldn’t even communicate with them telepathically, making it impossible for it to mock them in the way it wanted to. It could only stare on in speechless frustration.

But these “canned goods” had no intention of wasting time. In the blink of an eye, a few figures at the front of the encirclement charged forward, the gleaming Chainswords in their hands spinning at full speed as they swung at it mercilessly.

The terrain in the mountain pass was narrow. While it was perfect for blocking the Evolved one’s retreat, it also restricted the movements of the large Starfire Warriors. At the very least, they couldn’t fire their single-shot beams recklessly. In such a dense battle formation, a moment of carelessness could easily lead to friendly fire, and the Magicalized Armor couldn’t withstand that.

The Evolved one pushed its hands forward, and several fine bolts of red-light lightning erupted, forcing back the two warriors attacking from the front. At the same time, it kicked off the ground and shot backward, narrowly avoiding the swords swinging in from the sides.

A warrior who had been attacking from behind saw it retreating towards him. He immediately turned his broadsword sideways into a spearing stance, intending to let it impale itself.

But the monster, as if it had eyes in the back of its head, predicted the move. It twisted its waist sharply, turned, and threw a spear.

The crystalline spear clanged against the heavy armor, but it only left a shallow mark before shattering into pieces. However, the powerful blow knocked the warrior back several steps, and the recently formed encirclement instantly broke apart.

Just as everyone was slightly scattered, a “canned good” with a strange red marking etched on its shoulder armor suddenly charged at it like a raging bull. Unable to use planar travel in time, the Evolved one could only raise a huge Black Crystal Shield in front of itself.

Bang—

The stationary and moving figures collided with a boom. The massive impact created shockwaves that radiated outward. The Crystalline Shield cracked with a snap, and the parts of the opponent’s armor that took the brunt of the impact, like the shoulder and arm, were also slightly dented.

Considering that the black crystal couldn’t achieve Armor Break, the Evolved one took the opportunity to raise its hand and fire a shot of red light, aiming straight for the opponent’s helmet.

The opponent didn’t even try to dodge. Its other arm, hanging at its side, shot up like lightning, revealing the same dark barrel as before.

The Evolved one instantly forgot about delivering the fatal blow. It immediately used planar travel to blink away.

When its form reappeared, seven or eight “canned goods” who had been on the outer edge of the encirclement suddenly raised their hands in unison. A series of massive, blazing red fireballs materialized out of thin air and shot straight toward its position.

Spellcasters? No, that’s not right!

Weren’t these damned “canned goods” supposed to contain the weakest ordinary human individuals? How could they control energy weapons one moment and then cast magical spell-like attacks the next?

Alarm bells rang wildly in the Evolved one’s mind.

It vaguely realized once again that something was wrong with how things were developing. If it chose to retreat decisively now, it could probably escape successfully.

But the various mysteries and doubts piling up before it made it difficult to choose to give up.

If it failed to destroy the human position and also failed to seize their strange energy weapons, even if it returned to the race, it would surely incur the wrath of the main consciousness.

Its birth would become meaningless. And in the end, it would lose its reason to exist.

Chapter 756: The True Purpose

The Starfire Warriors who had fused with the beast spirits of Demonic Fire Beasts were a Squad led by Bale.

Compared to the Frenzy talent of the Bloodclaw Bear that Sai Ke and his men possessed, they were slightly weaker in terms of strength and speed.

Similarly, compared to the Serpent-Scaled Griffin Squad led by Santas, their beast spirits could not grant them formidable defensive capabilities, nor the invisible, area-of-effect sonic wave attacks.

In the wild, these Source Beasts—which in the past were only tamed and raised on a large scale by the Demons—were not even as powerful in combat as the “Demonic Wolves” led by Gallagher; they did not excel in pack combat or tracking.

But they possessed a unique ability, akin to that of a Spellcaster, to continuously unleash elemental magic.

Although they were limited to a single type of fire-based offensive spell-like attacks, its power was not to be underestimated.

A volley of massive fireballs shot forth, almost instantly illuminating the entire side of the mountain pass… which immediately attracted the floating Airships patrolling the surrounding sky to converge on their position.

This barrage of magical fireworks also served as a warning signal.

Faced with an overwhelming offensive that resembled clustered casting, the Evolved one could no longer dodge by maneuvering within a small area. It had no choice but to once again retreat into another dimension, its form flashing several times before finally reappearing on a giant boulder on the cliff face.

Once it lost the cover of the dense forest and exposed itself high up, it instantly drew the aim of the Starfire Warriors. Having moved beyond close-quarters combat, they no longer had to worry about friendly fire. Dozens of beams whizzed through the air, all directed at the newly appeared enemy.

Under the assault of these focused energy beams, the Black Crystal Shield was no different from tofu.

The Evolved one naturally wouldn’t be reckless enough to raise its shield to defend itself, so its body once again submerged into a spatial fissure.

This time, it appeared in the mid-air above them!

The moment its form solidified, it looked down and raised its hand, releasing several rays of red light aimed at the “tin cans” on the ground who were pointing their guns at it.

Just then, a powerful gust of wind from flapping wings came from behind.

It whipped its head around to see a giant griffin, its body almost entirely encased in metal, pouncing silently toward it. Its massive form was like a shadow gliding through the dark of night, and its flight speed was astonishingly fast, closing the distance in an instant.

The Evolved one dodged the sneak attack with a sideways flash, then opened its palm to conjure a black water whip, lashing out at the wing of the griffin as it shot past.

But this iron beast did not dodge or evade. Its body suddenly shrank rapidly in mid-air, returning to its human form in the blink of an eye… Without a doubt, this was a genuine high-level caster.

The Evolved one’s counterattack missed. It was about to raise its hand again to follow up with a red light attack, while the single giant eye on its chest widened, ready to corrupt any subsequent spell-like attacks from its opponent and dissolve their mana completely.

But after his failed sneak attack, the caster showed no intention of engaging further. He turned and descended directly to the ground, taking cover in the dense forest.

Before the Evolved one could process what had happened, an incandescent white beam shot from the distant horizon. The beam’s original target was slightly off, but its trajectory bizarrely twisted mid-flight before striking one of the Evolved one’s arms with perfect accuracy, blowing the crystal-armor-covered limb to pieces.

This was a long-range beam sniper shot from a Spellcaster aboard a floating Airship.

And Duncan, the Illusionist who had just brushed past the enemy, had silently set a timed force magic spell in the air during their fleeting exchange. It was set to detonate the moment the sniper took aim to correct its trajectory, and it had also anticipated the Evolved one’s likely-to-dodge position.

The Evolved one’s arm was severed almost at the shoulder. A spray of red and black flesh erupted, spattering down onto the ground below.

The sudden, severe injury caused the abnormal energy within its body to fall into a brief state of disarray. The red light on its crystal armor froze for a moment, and then its body went rigid and began to fall uncontrollably.

The Starfire Warriors waiting below seized the opportunity and swarmed forward, weapons raised. Before it could even hit the ground, they had already formed a tight encirclement.

An intense sense of crisis welled up once more. The Evolved one struggled for a moment and regained control of its body. With a flash, it dodged two broadswords that were cleaving down at it. When its body reappeared, it had only managed to move five or six steps to the side.

Its most relied-upon ability, spatial travel, was now faltering due to energy depletion and its severe injuries.

Two “tin cans” lunged at it. After it parried their attacks with the black crystalline weapon it had conjured, their bodies suddenly froze. Then, an invisible sonic wave rushed toward its face like a tidal wave. The high-frequency shriek produced visible ripples in the air, causing the single eye on the Evolved one’s chest to tremble and become bloodshot, squeezing shut in agony.

“Continue the sonic wave attacks! Its single eye must contain all of its sensory organs; it can’t handle these regular mana vibrations!”

The one giving the command was Duncan, who had re-emerged from the dense forest. As an experienced high-level caster, he had identified his opponent’s weakness at a glance.

The Evolved one dodged, flashing onto the branch of a massive tree. During a lull in the fighting, it couldn’t help but glance at its wound—at the shattered edge of its crystal armor, the fragile flesh was writhing madly, attempting to rapidly seal the injury.

Its true self, hidden beneath the crystal armor, was indeed several times stronger than that of ordinary Black Lizardmen soldiers. Even with its outer armor broken, its flesh would not immediately rot and decay upon exposure to the air.

But if the injury was too severe to heal on its own, the longer it dragged on, the worse its situation would become. Even if it managed a narrow escape and returned to its clan, it would ultimately need the main consciousness to reconstruct its body.

However, the resources required to reconstruct a body were enough for the main consciousness to create a brand new Evolved one. There was no need to invest further in a failure.

From the sky, obscured by the canopy of the trees, a low hum grew louder. It was the aerial vehicles piloted by the Spellcasters, slowly closing in.

At that moment, the Evolved one finally realized that these humans intended to use their endless array of attacks to hold it in place and wear it down until it died here.

Once the desire to survive flooded its mind, it completely replaced its roaring will to fight.

With almost no hesitation, the Evolved one turned and flew straight down the mountain… To avoid being locked onto and pursued from the air, it kept its flight altitude just a few meters above the ground, planning to use the forest as cover to escape once more.

Unfortunately, Starfire Warriors were already blocking the mountain pass.

This group of “tin cans” surrounded it without a shred of fear, their beam weapons firing frequently, cutting off every possible escape route.

More and more Starfire Warriors arrived to join the encirclement. These “tin cans” had extremely strong defenses. As long as they weren’t hit directly by the red-light lightning, the ordinary black crystalline weapons couldn’t cause them much harm. Even if they were occasionally knocked back or sent flying, they could immediately shake their heads, get back up, and return to the battlefield.

As the encirclement gradually tightened, the space available for the Evolved one to maneuver grew smaller and smaller.

Finally, as it tried to exert all its strength to evade two beams and make one last, desperate attempt at planar travel, Duncan, who had been observing from the side for some time, let a cold glint flash in his eyes. He took the beam sniper rifle handed to him by a soldier and fired at the spot where he predicted it would appear.

The Evolved one’s body was only halfway out of the spatial fissure when it met the incoming beam head-on.

The others in the battle saw its deep red crystal armor flash brilliantly before completely dimming. The two legs that had emerged first were blown to pieces. The instant the spatial fissure collapsed and closed, it also severed the other arm that hadn’t fully emerged.

With its crystal armor shattered and all its limbs destroyed, the enemy, now utterly incapable of fighting, fell onto its back. The swollen single eye on its chest slowly opened a sliver, its massive pupil now just a mottled patch of blood red.

Duncan lowered his rifle and walked forward with a faint smile.

“We’ve finally completed the mission from His Majesty and the two Chiefs. Before this thing expires, strip off all its crystal armor and send it back to the capital at top speed!”

Capturing a high-rank Evolved one of the Demonic Lizardmen alive… that was the true purpose of their meticulous operation!

Chapter 757: Battlefield First Aid

Wild Goose Mountain, Northern Army artillery position, temporary command post.

For the military operation against the Demonic Lizardmen on Floating Island Number 5 in the Leru Grand Canyon, setting up all logistical and medical departments here was the safest and most reliable choice.

The artillery bombardment at the front had been roaring from dusk until nearly midnight. The Army units deployed to the canyon’s periphery had received the order to launch a general assault half an hour ago and had begun to advance into the canyon.

With that, close-quarters combat was imminent, and soldier casualties became unavoidable.

However, the Field Hospital had already begun receiving and treating the wounded on-site for over an hour.

The first batch to be brought up from the foot of the mountain by floating Airship was a group of Bloodline Warriors, nearly all of whom were injured.

The medical director led a team of doctors and nurses to meet them, checking each of the wounded’s Lacerations before quickly triaging and sorting them. He then had his deputy physicians hang a simple, handwritten “injury case” card on each patient’s wrist.

More than ten of the seriously wounded were in critical condition. Although they had taken alchemical potions to slow their injuries and promote rapid blood clotting, they were now barely breathing. If they weren’t treated soon, they would likely die.

The medical director took a count of these critical patients and, with a wave of his hand, had other soldiers help scramble to carry them into the surgical tents. Over ten Medical-type alchemical beasts, already on standby, would assist the surgeons in their life-saving efforts.

The lightly injured were far more numerous. Many of their external wounds looked horrifying—a mangled, bloody mess—but were not life-threatening. Only a few unlucky ones with clearly severed hands or feet would need emergency sutures before being sent back to the capital for limb reattachment.

Simmons’s medical team, being all recent graduates, was assigned to a medical tent for the lightly wounded.

Yet the first person carried in looked anything but “lightly injured.”

The man’s military uniform clearly displayed the rank of a junior officer, but strangely, his entire body was drenched in sweat as if he’d just been pulled from water. The lower part of one arm was twisted and deformed, a clear sign that it had been broken in two from the inside by a blunt weapon.

This was a very severe fracture. Even though the broken bone hadn’t pierced the skin, it would require surgical treatment with the help of a medical alchemical beast.

“Huh?” Wylan raised his hand, took the card hanging from the patient’s wrist, and said in surprise, “A Starfire Warrior! This Sir is actually a Starfire Warrior?”

Simmons, who was assisting with treatment, hadn’t yet grasped the situation when Santas, lying on the stretcher, moaned, “Doctor, is there a problem?”

Wylan shook his head. “Apologies, this is my first time seeing one of the new, rumored extraordinary… ahem, I need to know how Your Excellency was injured in battle so I can decide how to treat the wound.”

Santas’s face was pale as he said weakly, “That’s precisely why I insisted on being assigned to the lightly wounded! Doctor, my arm wasn’t shattered by an enemy’s blunt weapon. My Demon Armor was damaged and deformed, crushing it into this state…”

Before he could finish, Simmons had already noticed something odd about the injury. A hematoma of that severity was indeed unlikely to be caused by a simple fracture. The current condition could only have resulted if the flesh and muscle had also been crushed and torn.

Santas continued to plead, “Is there any way to treat me with healing spell-like attacks or alchemical magic potions? We’re not like those Bloodline Warriors… after surgery, I won’t be able to control my Demon Armor for at least a month. If I fall behind on training and missions, I’ll probably lose my position as Captain!”

A look of realization dawned on Wylan’s face.

So this young Starfire Warrior officer was worried that surgery would mean a slow recovery, affecting his future missions!

Despite being the nominal head of this medical tent, Wylan subconsciously glanced at Simmons, seeking his opinion with his eyes.

Simmons pondered for a moment, then recited, by the book, from the battlefield medical manual, “Based on Sir Santas’s condition, the best course of treatment is still surgery… After all, it’s a crush-induced fracture. Such a severe hematoma indicates significant trauma to the arm’s flesh and muscle. We’ll need to make an incision to reset the bone, and if necessary, remove the swollen and necrotic muscle tissue… Of course, we’ll also use alchemical potions to promote tissue regeneration and recovery.”

Seeing this doctor, whose demeanor was remarkably similar to one of the Holy See’s holy rollers, rattling on about cutting him open, not only to set the bone by hand but also to carve out his flesh and muscle, Santas couldn’t catch his breath and nearly rolled his eyes back and fainted.

Simmons quickly changed his tune, suggesting to Wylan in a low voice, “However… that batch of trial potions distributed by the Magic Potion Research Institute before this operation began… that batch of ‘New Life Potion’ might be worth considering for Sir Santas’s injury.”

Wylan paused, then said cautiously, “The new medicine from the Magic Potion Research Institute… although it’s passed clinical trials, wouldn’t it be safer to use it on an ordinary soldier? This is a Starfire Warrior.”

The implication was clear: if something went wrong with the potion, they couldn’t afford the responsibility of losing a Starfire Warrior.

Simmons was speechless. Others might not know the secret behind this “New Life Potion”… but how could he, a former Priest of the Holy See, not know?

It was simply an alchemical magic potion fused with the Holy See’s divine arts. The power of a blessing amplified the flesh-regenerating and limb-mending properties of the demonic plants in the potion by several times. If administered promptly… it could even achieve effects like regenerating a severed finger.

This was a creation that could truly be called a “divine” miracle.

Initially, the handful of Holy See Priests and clerics who were semi-coerced into participating in the potion’s development were extremely resistant to the act, privately viewing it as nothing short of heresy and blasphemy.

But once they arrived at the Kingdom Central Infirmary and saw hundreds of doctors treating patients with meticulous care, treating everyone equally without discrimination, regardless of their origin or status, they could no longer muster a single thought of opposition.

“It doesn’t matter if a cat is black or white, as long as it catches mice…”

This saying, rumored to be a favorite of His Majesty the Emperor, had quietly and imperceptibly influenced the mindsets of these Priests from the Holy See.

Since they were to jointly shoulder the burden of defending their people and saving the populace, it was only natural to set aside their differences and join hands in cooperation. Furthermore, with the exiled Holy See currently cornered in the Holy City and tottering on the verge of collapse, proving their worth to St. Valen’s Magic Emperor would undoubtedly help their fellow believers.

Circumstances left them no choice…

Simmons made up his mind and immediately gritted his teeth. “We’ll use the potion! We can’t let this young officer lose his combat capability for an extended period. I will take full personal responsibility for any consequences.”

Chapter 758: Developments

With a grim expression, Pierce led a group of officers into the Great Bear Lake Base command post.

A group of staff officers discussing the war around the sand table saw him and straightened up to salute.

“Lord Commander!”

“General!”

Pierce scanned the crowd, his gaze landing on the lead staff officer, Dickinson. “What’s the status of the Leru Grand Canyon operation?” he asked in a low voice.

“General, the artillery positions have destroyed their small Floating Island. According to reconnaissance airship observations… most of the island’s wreckage sank into the central marshlands. Ground troops have now entered the canyon and are clearing out several thousand scattered enemies.”

In short, the main objective was complete, and they had moved on to the “mopping-up” stage of cleaning up the battlefield.

Pierce frowned. He paced over to the regional sand table and stared at it for a moment, muttering to himself in puzzlement, “They couldn’t have sent an Evolved one just to die… Could it really be as His Majesty predicted, a risky attempt to erode our strategic depth?”

Seeing the commander’s uncertainty, Dickinson stepped forward. “General, according to the Staff Department’s assessment, it was indeed, as His Majesty judged, a probing invasion. On the other hand… we believe they were trying to open a new submerged channel.”

With that, he had a subordinate bring over an enlarged Abyssal Sea Chart and began to explain, cross-referencing it with the regional sand table before them.

As a non-human tribe active in the deep seas of the Icefields, the Demonic Lizardmen had never before reached the south, known as the Corner of the Continent. This meant that although they could use some unknown method to detect subterranean waterways for their Floating Islands to travel through, they still needed a vanguard to clear the way for an actual arrival.

Whether it was the Great Rift of the Spine of the Gods Mountains in Northern Isengard, the Holy City Goris of the Church nestled at the foot of the mountains’ extension, or the area around Great Bear Lake and Leru Grand Canyon.

Every location where a Demonic Lizardman Floating Island had appeared was a probing attack in their attempt to invade the south on a massive scale.

To date, only their multi-pronged assault on Isengard had succeeded… and without a doubt, they had subsequently used the Cavalry Kingdom as a breakthrough point, sending swarms of combat units until the entire northeastern part of the south was in ruins.

“To them, the failures at Great Bear Lake and Leru Canyon are nothing more than the loss of a small Floating Island and ordinary Demonic Lizardman soldiers, whom the Evolved ones consider expendable.”

Dickinson paused, pointing to the two locations he had mentioned. “But once a waterway is opened, they will have unimpeded passage in the future… and we can only build Permanent fortifications on the ground, constantly on guard for their comeback.”

Pierce was alarmed, immediately grasping the core idea his staff officer was trying to convey.

The Northern Army was currently playing whack-a-mole; whenever the Demonic Lizardmen’s submerged forces popped up, they would hit them hard right where they emerged.

But the Northern Barren Lands were simply too vast. Even playing whack-a-mole… if they were facing dozens or hundreds of holes, it would be enough to leave them overwhelmed and stretched thin.

Not to mention, Isengard had already become a de facto breach. Forcing the hundreds of thousands of non-human enemies that had poured into the country back north of the Spine of the Gods Mountains was not something that could be achieved overnight.

As he pondered this, Pierce’s brow furrowed into a deep knot. “We absolutely cannot let the situation develop like this!”

He pointed at Dickinson. “Leave the others to manage the post-battle work. You will return to the capital with me immediately. We need to present our forecast of the situation to His Majesty for a decision.”

…

Wild Goose Mountain, temporary military camp.

Supported by another, Santas limped back to the barracks assigned to the Starfire Warriors and was immediately swarmed by the crowd.

“Damn! You’re out of the medical station already?”

“But… your arm injury…”

Sai Ke glanced suspiciously at Santas’s heavily wrapped arm. While leading the ‘Griffin’ Squad in close combat with the Evolved one, Santas had been struck by a massive boulder hurled by the enemy. The impact had twisted the joints of his Demon Armor, crushing his arm and fracturing the bone.

The injury wasn’t fatal, but after he was sent to the field hospital, the triage doctor had said he would definitely need surgery to set the bone. If his recovery wasn’t good enough, they would have to consider an alchemical prosthetic.

Although the Starfire Warriors’ performance in the battle to encircle the Demonic Lizardman Evolved one was beyond question, and morale in the Spec Ops squad was high with every face beaming with pride and excitement, they were still ordinary mortals inside their Demon Armor. Despite having been strengthened by various alchemical potions, their pure physical strength was still far inferior to that of extraordinary warriors who had awakened their bloodline power.

Most of the Starfire Warriors injured in the battle hadn’t suffered direct Armor Break. Instead, during the close-quarters encirclement, the enemy had exploited openings in their attacks, deliberately hitting the joints of the Demon Armor with black water or red light.

This had made them fully aware of their own weaknesses, and in subsequent battles, they had consciously protected the vulnerable points of their armor to evade the Evolved ones’ targeted attacks.

Santas’s miserable state served as a warning and a reminder to them all.

“Where are Gregor and Bale?” Santas asked, his face pale and his voice weak.

“Requisitioned by the Bloodline Warriors to go to the Grand Canyon and help the ground troops mop up the remaining routed soldiers.”

Tsk…

Santas shook his head helplessly. If he hadn’t been so unlucky as to get injured, he would have been with the other two, fighting as reinforcements. Now, he had obviously missed out, falling a whole step behind everyone else in his kill count.

Seeing him glance around, Sai Ke couldn’t help but press him again, “I asked you about your injury. Didn’t the head doctor say you needed surgery to set the bone? How are you back already… Don’t want that arm anymore, do you?”

Santas rolled his eyes in frustration. “Who told you I needed surgery? They gave me a… uh, new medicine! One that promotes flesh regeneration and self-healing of broken bones. They just had to make a small incision at the injury to drain the bruised blood.”

As if to prove his point, he raised his heavily wrapped arm straight up, showing it off with confidence. “See? In less than half an hour, the broken bone healed up like new. It won’t affect our future combat missions at all!”

Is there really such a powerful magic potion? Why haven’t the other injured warriors used it…

Sai Ke gave Santas a suspicious look, which immediately made him uncomfortable.

“Alright, alright, the anesthetic hasn’t worn off yet. I need a quiet tent to get some rest.”

Sai Ke quickly dispersed the crowd of warriors and helped Santas to a one-man tent before turning to leave.

Once the footsteps outside the tent faded away, Santas stood up suspiciously and peeked outside a few times. He then sat down on the cot and carefully unwrapped the bandages on his arm.

He had taken the magic potion, called the New Life Potion, half orally and half topically as instructed by the doctor… and it had indeed taken effect immediately, with obvious results.

Although Doctor Wylan and Doctor Simmons had assured him that the potion’s side effects would quickly subside, he himself felt completely uncertain.

The spot on his arm where the bone had broken and swelled now looked completely recovered. But the skin, which was once covered in thick hair… now had a large patch of snake-like scale growths for some unknown reason.

Others might not have noticed anything strange, but Santas recognized it at a glance.

Aren’t these fucking exactly the same as the feathery scales on a Serpent-Scaled Griffin’s chest, belly, and claws!

Chapter 759: Captive Transfer

Northern Realm, the capital, Starfire City.

The military operation report concerning Leru Grand Canyon reached Harvey’s hands two to three hours after the battle concluded.

The battle, which erupted deep within the barren lands, was lightning-fast. Although the preliminary planning, preparation, and troop deployment had taken some time, the actual combat lasted merely a day and a night, with the focus on speed and swiftness.

The Emperor, who had already anticipated the victorious outcome, perused the operation report during his midday meal. Pierce, who was responsible for personally commanding the front-line operations, sent a communication stating that a more detailed battle summary would be submitted later.

“They captured that non-human Evolved one alive…” Harvey took a small sip from his wine glass and calmly set down the document. “That’s a pleasant surprise.”

Invited to join him for lunch was Spellshield Fran Macaulay, a man the Emperor considered a close friend. This former Minister of the Federation’s Department of Magical Affairs, now aligned with the St. Valen United Kingdom, still chose to remain active in both Spellcaster organizations and the secular political scene, offering his rich political experience as counsel to the Emperor.

“Before the operation officially began, we originally estimated a success rate of less than fifty percent… The General Staff had considered nearly every possible scenario, but they completely underestimated the performance of the Starfire Warriors.”

The Spellshield did not hold the same skeptical and disdainful attitude as other Spellcasters toward this combat force, which was composed of mortal soldiers but had found a new path to extraordinary power through magical constructs. Rather than affirming their combat capabilities, it was more a testament to his blind faith in Harvey’s foresight and choices.

Harvey picked up his napkin and wiped the corner of his mouth, chuckling softly. “Once they have enough real combat experience, I believe they’ll bring us even more surprises. But for now, we need to focus on how to transport that near-death Evolved one back to the capital.”

In the encirclement battle that erupted at Wild Goose Mountain, the target enemy suffered heavy damage from the combined assault of multiple combat units. Not only were all four of its limbs shattered by focused beam weapons, but to prevent it from lashing out in a final struggle, the high-level Mages even went so far as to strip away most of the deep red crystal armor covering its body.

Fortunately, the Evolved one’s vitality was clearly stronger than that of an ordinary Demonic Lizardmen soldier. Although most of its fragile flesh was exposed to the air, as long as a small portion of its crystal armor remained, it could continuously self-heal, preventing its body from immediately festering and decaying.

“Lord Duncan and the others discovered that by keeping it in a constant state of near-death emergency self-healing, the creature has no extra energy to recover and bite back. This way, we can both keep it alive and safely transport it back to the capital.”

The Spellshield pondered for a moment before adding with a smile, “The two Chiefs have been waiting impatiently since they received the news this morning… Lord Dawson even said that if the creature can’t hold on and dies midway, we must ensure its giant single eye is completely removed and sent back.”

After all, it was a completely unknown non-human extraordinary being. Any tiny bit of flesh and blood tissue that could be collected was an immensely precious experimental material for human Spellcasters. Only by possessing them… could they truly and deeply analyze the various bizarre characteristics of these non-human races.

But Harvey’s thoughts went even deeper than the two Legendary Chiefs.

“I believe a simple live dissection might not yield much… Since the Demonic Lizardmen are mass-produced through catalysis by a main consciousness, there shouldn’t be significant physiological differences between an Evolved one and ordinary Black Lizardmen, Red Lizardmen, or the winged species.”

Of course, aside from its terrifying ability to sense and lock onto targets, reverse-corrode a Spellcaster’s own mana, and dissolve the structural matrix of their spell-like attacks… which has now been traced to the swollen single eye embedded in its chest and abdomen.

“It’s not just that Mana-Devouring single eye, but also its ability to tear through space and conduct unrestricted planar travel in a short time.” Although he had only seen the battle footage from the ice sea front, the Spellshield still felt a chill recalling it. “How does it accurately pinpoint a real-world coordinate without the energy conduction of the Magic Net? The discrepancies in distance and direction within a spatial fissure are completely different from those in the physical plane.”

Harvey shook his head with a wry smile, equally baffled… He did have a theory in mind, with the clue naturally coming from the Dragon Chaser’s Coronet he had chanced upon, but since it hadn’t been verified yet, he didn’t plan to state it openly.

…

Great Bear Lake Base.

The Son of Flame stared at the “tin can” that had been delivered in advance. No matter how he looked at it, it seemed like a suit of Magicalized Armor worn by the Starfire Warriors… but a scrapped version from a manufacturing error.

Besides lacking weapon slots for a Chainsword and a magical energy shotgun, all the joints on the armor, which were originally meant for flexible movement, had been welded shut, turning it into a true “iron coffin” with no gaps whatsoever.

The energy storage compartment on the waist, originally used for injecting liquid magical energy and embedding magic stones, had now been temporarily modified into a mana conversion device. Using a miniature magic array inscribed inside, it continuously converted liquid magical energy into elemental mana to cast freezing magic, sealing the non-human captive imprisoned within.

One had to admit, this temporarily modified magical prison was truly “tailor-made” for the Evolved one.

“Isn’t this just Magicalized Armor?” Dav also circled it, asking in confusion, “Does His Majesty really intend to use this thing to transport the non-human Evolved one? Can he ensure it’s completely foolproof?”

The Fire Mage shrugged helplessly. “As long as we don’t use the long-range teleportation array for the return trip, it’s unlikely anything will go wrong… It will be guarded and escorted by an Airship squad, with all high-rank battle mages accompanying them. Even if its condition recovers and it suddenly lashes out, it won’t be difficult to suppress it.”

Nearly ten hours had passed since its capture and containment. Under close monitoring the entire time, there were no signs of regeneration on the Evolved one’s severed limbs. It seemed that merely healing its few massive wounds had already exhausted what little energy it had left in its body, leaving it in a state of being near-death but not completely devoid of life.

It would be more accurate to say it was barely clinging to life…

“The temporary artillery position at Wild Goose Mountain needs to be maintained for now. All combat units from this military operation are to remain on standby until they receive orders to withdraw…”

The Son of Flame recalled Pierce’s instructions from a few hours ago before he left the base to urgently return to the capital, and he frowned. “The enemy has also breached the underground river passageway beneath Leru Grand Canyon. Although the Demonic Lizardmen’s Floating Island can’t easily make a comeback due to the influence of the seasonal flood tides… they have still managed to drive a nail into our strategic depth.”

This maneuver was remarkably similar to the human strategy of building a permanent defensive base in the Eternal Night Ruins of the Ice Sea Tundra.

Chapter 760: Analysis of the Aberrant State

Legendary Chief Salas flicked his hands, dispelling the Mage Hand that hovered in the air before him.

He then turned from the laboratory bench and spoke in a low voice to the Emperor, who was seated by the window gazing at the scenery above. “Your Majesty, I’m afraid the facts are just as you predicted… Structurally, this high-rank Evolved one of the non-human race is not significantly different from an ordinary Demonic Lizardman.”

Dawson, still stationed by the laboratory bench, had not given up. He carefully placed the massive, fully dissected single eye into an enchanted crystal jar, examining it ceaselessly through the transparent container.

He muttered to himself, “What a pity, what a pity… If it hadn’t already lost all signs of life before being sent back, we might have had a chance to unlock the biological secrets of this Mana Devourer Eye.”

The Great Bear Lake Base was nearly four hundred kilometers from the capital. Even with the transport airship traveling day and night without rest, a fully loaded journey would take a full day and night to arrive.

The Evolved one, already critically injured and near death, seemed to have finally exhausted the last of its life force during the turbulent flight. Two hours before reaching the capital, it finally succumbed to its severed limbs and the trauma of having its crystal armor stripped away. By the time the Son of Flame performed his scheduled check, the captive had become a cold corpse.

This also meant that Harvey’s plan to risk using a psychic link to interrogate the Evolved one had come to nothing.

The two Chiefs, having received the news early and been waiting, immediately took charge of the hard-won Evolved one’s corpse and began the autopsy with great urgency.

The final conclusion was, naturally… that apart from the strange, giant eye on its chest and abdomen, its physical structure was not much different from that of an ordinary Demonic Lizardman.

“What kind of substance is the red crystal armor that covers its body? Why can it provide stronger magical resistance than their husks, with far superior defensive power?” Harvey tilted his head, taking the initiative to ask.

As the United Kingdom had developed, Harvey’s duties as Emperor had grown increasingly complex, leaving him with far less time for his own experimental interests than in the past. The research project on individual non-human race specimens had now been fully entrusted to the two Legendary Chiefs.

“This red crystal isn’t a common magic stone mineral. Observing how it instantly vaporizes and disappears upon separating from the Evolved one’s body… I’ve determined it might be a solid condensation of the red light energy stored within it.”

Clearly, the basis and inspiration for this conclusion came entirely from the theory of the three states of mana transformation proposed by Harvey.

Since mana, as a form of energy-matter, could freely convert between gaseous, liquid, and solid states, then the red-light lightning, also a form of energy-matter, would naturally possess the properties of condensing into a solid form or dissipating into a gas.

Harvey nodded in agreement. “The properties of this energy are still unknown… but we can be reasonably certain that it is definitely not drawn from the Magic Net in other dimensions. We just don’t know where they get this energy from.”

After carefully placing the specimen jar aside, Dawson eagerly joined the discussion.

“I suspect it may come from an entity within their race known as the ‘main consciousness’.”

He paused, a look of recollection on his face. “Does Your Majesty still recall the time you entrusted me with using Mind Invasion to probe the sea of consciousness of a Demonic Lizardman for intelligence?”

That dangerous journey, like roaming through an abyss, had made Dawson the first person to personally witness the birthplace of this deep-sea non-human race, and the sights he saw had been utterly inconceivable.

Realization dawned on Harvey. “I remember. As Your Excellency was about to withdraw, you were suddenly locked onto by some terrifying presence and nearly suffered a severe blow at the soul level.”

Dawson nodded, a lingering fear in his eyes. He pointed to the giant eyeball resting on the shelf and added, “At that time, in a massive shadow suspected to be at the base of a Floating Island, I glimpsed a single eye as enormous as a full moon!”

The base of a Floating Island… also had a giant eyeball?

This point had never been verified. After all, in the numerous wars against the Demonic Lizardmen, the Floating Islands that surfaced were always met with fierce, concentrated attacks. They were ultimately blasted to pieces by heavy cannons and sank again, so no one ever paid attention to whether they had an eye on the bottom or not.

Salas shrugged. “But Your Majesty and we have long since reached a consensus that the Floating Islands are living organisms.”

“The fragments of Floating Island wreckage salvaged by the army show that they do share commonalities with deep-sea creatures like coral… The same principle applies to the Demonic Lizardmen’s giant Conch Beasts.”

Harvey spread his hands, making the final ruling on the experiment. “In that case, we can only assume for now that the special abilities of the Evolved ones are granted by their main consciousness, similar to how a hive controls its swarm… And the single eye that grows from their bodies is the key to using those abilities.”

Dawson said, champing at the bit, “So… we still need to do everything we can to capture a live and kicking Evolved one to fully unlock the true secrets of the Mana Devourer Eye!”

…

Sai Ke and the other Starfire Warriors had also returned to the capital aboard the floating Airship that was transporting the non-human race captive.

Instructor Dean received the news early and went ahead to the airship landing field on the northwest side of the Military Barracks to welcome them.

Looking at this group of young men he had painstakingly trained, who now appeared travel-worn and partially injured, a trace of pride and relief couldn’t help but show in his eyes.

“Even while equipped with Magicalized Armor, which has arguably the strongest defense, you still managed to get yourselves into this state in a single battle… You’re all still far too lacking in real combat experience!”

After giving them a sharp verbal reprimand, Dean immediately ordered the Logistics personnel of the Spec Ops squad to haul away the deployed warriors’ damaged Demon Armor for repairs.

Sai Ke, with unconcealable pride on his face, grinned and said, “Instructor, this mission was incredibly dangerous. If not for our rigorous training and the close cooperation from the other combat departments, we probably would have suffered casualties.”

“Are the non-human race Evolved ones… really that terrifying in combat?”

Bale said in his booming voice, “Of course! That thing… uh, it was like a high-rank battle spellcaster who had awakened a powerful bloodline talent! It was agile and immensely strong in close combat, and while it could fly, it could also cast ranged magic attacks…”

“It could even travel between spatial planes like a Legendary Caster! Even surrounded by over a hundred extraordinary warriors, it almost got away!” Gregor added quickly, a thick bandage wrapped around his injured forehead.

Dean nodded and said with a sigh, “For His Majesty to assign you such a difficult mission shows how much hope he has placed in you. Thankfully, you didn’t let him down…”

And as His Majesty had said, the Starfire Warriors were truly the natural bane of the non-human race!

Chapter 761: Eligible Bachelor

Late summer was giving way to early autumn, and the annual Harvest Festival was once again approaching.

The Northern Army’s routine day off happened to fall on the capital’s weekly public holiday. With the two days off combined, it was the perfect time for the public to go on outings, stroll through the streets, and shop.

The non-commissioned officers and soldiers, who had been cooped up in the Military Barracks for half a month, had also requested leave. They left the barracks in groups of three or five to seek entertainment at clubs or theaters. After the military’s restructuring last winter, the army’s salaries and performance-based wages had risen slightly. As a result, professional soldiers with ample spare cash had become the primary consumers in the major garrison cities.

Among them, the young non-commissioned officers were the most conspicuous. These young men had enlisted more recently, had not yet purchased private property in their hometowns or the capital, and were still unmarried. With their pockets full, their desire to spend was particularly strong. Furthermore, after enlisting, almost all of them had passed the literacy course at the army’s night school. In their daily lives, they tended to see themselves as cultured men who could also carry a gun. On their days off, they most enjoyed frequenting the various theaters in the capital or lingering at the Officers’ Club, drinking and engaging in grand discussions with staff officers of noble birth.

Ordinary soldiers, however, did not enjoy such privileges. Their two monthly days off could not be spent outside the barracks without special permission for family visits. Even when there was no fighting, they had to remain on standby in their quarters. Fortunately, rugby was ever-popular in the army, and card and board games could help pass the short rest time.

Santas changed out of his usual training uniform and put on an NCO’s autumn service dress. With the summer heat not yet completely gone, it looked oddly bulky.

“Where are you off to? Didn’t we have a plan to play cards at the club?” Bale asked, his mouth twisted in confusion.

Gregor’s eyes darted around, and he suddenly burst out laughing. “Oh! I know! Did you secretly sign up for the matchmaking event organized by the Department of Military Affairs? You bastard, you promised none of us would participate!”

Sai Ke, who was half-lying on his bunk wrestling with a vocabulary booklet, looked up at the sound of their voices and couldn’t help but tease, “Stop making fun of him. Santas isn’t a kid anymore. Going to a matchmaking event doesn’t mean he’s getting engaged right away… It’s no big deal for him to go.”

Santas’s face immediately turned beet red as he argued loudly, “Bullshit! Who said I’m going to a matchmaking event!”

Ever since His Majesty had officially promulgated the new national development plan, the Department of State, considering the long-term future of the Kingdom, had implemented a policy of bringing in large numbers of foreign immigrants. Internally, they had also begun a series of measures to promote population growth.

The first priority was to encourage marriage and childbirth. This wasn’t a major concern for the common people; once they were well-fed, clothed, and housed, they were more than eager to have children. The government hardly needed to push them. The Ministry of Health had almost immediately established separate nurseries in infirmaries across the land, and it was said that full-time pediatricians had already been assigned to them.

The only ones left behind were, naturally, the “problematic” bachelors in the army. Their numbers had swelled with each round of military expansion, to the point where the marital status of even some mid-to-high-ranking officers was now part of their routine assessment.

Originally, these young, strong, and well-paid professional soldiers should have been hot commodities on the marriage market—“eligible bachelors.” They were popular not only in the capital, but in any garrison city across the Kingdom, they would be prime candidates for marriage proposals.

The main problem stemmed from the strict regulations set by the Department of State. Not only were enlisted soldiers under the age of twenty forbidden from marrying, but those belonging to units on rotational garrison duty were also prohibited from finding spouses in their stationed locations. This left the already restricted soldiers and officers with few options: either get married before enlisting, or wait until their three-year compulsory service was up, get approved for a two-week leave to go home for their wedding, and rush back to get their lifelong affair settled as if they were fighting a war.

Many of the more desirable NCOs hoped to settle down in the capital. They wanted to first complete the important task of saving up for a house before starting to look for a girl they liked and embarking on a romantic, modern relationship.

As a result, the military’s marriage rate was consistently at the bottom of the Population Management Department’s quarterly reports.

The officers in the Department of Military Affairs, unable to bear their superiors’ reprimands, were wracking their brains to encourage marriage among age-appropriate officers. Whenever a battle group on standby in the capital had a day off, they would organize large-scale collective matchmaking sessions.

However, independent combat units like the Spark Spec Ops squad were different. Those who passed the rigorous assessments to enter its ranks, after enduring harsh training, were mostly individuals with firm resolve and lofty ambitions. Their desire to win glory on the battlefield clearly outweighed any thought of marriage and family.

After some private discussion, most of the soldiers had declared they would not participate for the time being, choosing instead to focus on practical training to improve themselves while awaiting His Majesty the Emperor’s next operational command.

Bale looked around, then leaned in and whispered to the other three, “I heard the girls participating in the matchmaking event are all from local families in the capital… Their looks and education are at least above average, and many of them even work in government departments!”

Gregor made a tutting sound. “Well, no wonder this guy Santas betrayed the organization and abandoned his faith. But then again, even Instructor Dean signed up…”

Bang—

Before the four could finish their whispering, the door to the NCO barracks was violently kicked open from the outside. Instructor Dean strode in, his face a grim mask.

“Not planning on going out to have fun on your day off? What are you all doing holed up in the barracks?”

Bale immediately ducked his head and said in a small voice, “We were just discussing where to go…”

Dean glared at him, cleared his throat theatrically, and said coolly, “If you don’t know where to go, then don’t go anywhere. In a bit, I want all of you to change into your clean dress uniforms, the kind you wear for the military parade. Tidy yourselves up and follow me to the Department of Military Affairs.”

“What? Instructor!” Sai Ke blurted out, stunned. “To the Department of Military Affairs? But I thought the matchmaking was voluntary?”

Dean rolled his eyes and huffed, “It is voluntary. But our Spec Ops squad has so few people signing up that you’re embarrassing me in front of my superiors! If that’s how it is, I’ll just do the picking off myself!”

Gregor quietly breathed a sigh of relief. Although he talked a big game about self-discipline and advancing with his brothers, and not abandoning their shared conviction… when it came to a legitimate chance to meet a girl face-to-face, he couldn’t help but feel a sliver of anticipation and excitement.

At the instructor’s repeated urging, the three men, unable to withstand the intimidation, could only rally themselves and start rummaging through their wardrobes for their dress uniforms.

“Sai Ke, remember to bring your Excellent NCO medal. Honestly… at a time like this, you still don’t know how to put your best foot forward.”

“Gregor, you have five minutes to sort out your appearance. Straighten out that nest of hair.”

“Bale… Hmph! Do I have to personally shave that messy beard of yours?”

After a round of reprimands, Dean turned his head and saw Santas standing ramrod straight by the door, neatly dressed. He nodded with a hint of satisfaction. “Hmm… Not bad. You came prepared.”

Santas shuddered and quickly raised his arm, which was still wrapped in a thick bandage. His voice trembled as he said, “Instructor, today… today, I’m under doctor’s orders to go to the Battlefield Medical Center for a follow-up!”

Chapter 762: Side Effect

As soon as he arrived at the Battlefield Medical Center, Santas eagerly sought out the medical team where Wylan and Simmons were.

“Santas, Sir, weren’t you supposed to come for a check-up the moment you returned to the capital?” Wylan complained with a frown. “It’s been so many days. If you hadn’t shown up soon… I was about to request your information from the military affairs office.”

Santas coughed awkwardly and tried to explain himself, “I… I, the Spec Ops squad had a lot to deal with after returning to the capital. I had to get everything sorted out before I had time for a check-up.”

As he spoke, he quickly shed his somewhat heavy military jacket, unwrapped the tight bandage on his arm, and exposed the healed wound… A dense patch of snake scales covering half of his forearm was revealed, a truly horrifying sight.

Simmons put on his glasses, pushed a focused magic stone lamp closer, and leaned in to observe it carefully for a moment. “It’s no different from when it first appeared after you took the potion. After all these days, the scales haven’t spread…”

He looked up again and exchanged a glance with Wylan. “It seems to be a rare but harmless side effect. Perhaps it’s like what the professor mentioned in class, what was it called… an allergic reaction?”

Wylan nodded in agreement. “That’s right. But compared to the mana corrosion that alchemical potions used to cause in ordinary people, the harm from this side effect… is completely negligible.”

Seeing this, Santas said with a mournful look, “What side effect, what allergic reaction? Isn’t there any way to get this off my skin? I haven’t even dared to go to the public baths these past few days.”

Although the sudden appearance of scales on his arm didn’t affect his daily life, let alone hinder his training and combat… the miserable sight of plague victims with festering, swollen skin he had witnessed in his hometown as a child had left Santas with an indelible fear.

Right now, the scales showed no signs of spreading, but what if they did? What would he do if they spread to his face?

He didn’t want to be looked at strangely by his other comrades. If that happened, even staying in the Spec Ops squad might become a problem.

In fact, he had secretly tried to pluck the scales off, only to discover, unsurprisingly… that the things grew from the flesh and blood beneath his skin. Peeling off each scale tore away dripping flesh; forcing it was no different from torture.

Wylan shrugged at his words and comforted him in a gentle voice, “Don’t worry. Although you’re the only abnormal case, I immediately reported the situation to His Excellency Egnor after returning to the capital. If you wait a moment, he will come to examine you personally.”

The Minister of Health and Dean of the Kingdom Central Infirmary, My lord Egnor?

Santas’s eyes immediately filled with boundless hope. He asked in pleasant surprise, “My lord Egnor is coming to treat me personally?”

“The New Life Potion was developed by the Magic Potion Research Institute, and My lord Egnor played a leading role. Naturally, he is very concerned about the potion’s clinical performance…” Wylan hesitated for a moment before continuing, “A case this rare… I imagine all the professors and doctors at the Central Infirmary will be very interested.”

…

Egnor had just finished a major cybernetic limb transplant surgery. As he walked out of the operating room, he received a report from his Deputy.

Learning that the soldier who had experienced an abnormal reaction after taking the New Life Potion was currently at the Battlefield Medical Center for a check-up… he immediately rushed over without any hesitation.

“Your Excellency the Minister, this is Mr. Santas, the patient I reported to you who developed a side effect after taking the potion.” Wylan went up to greet him, handing the pathology report in his hand to Egnor.

Egnor took it casually but didn’t look at it… Instead, he walked straight to Santas, who was sitting to the side, and lifted his scale-covered arm to examine it closely.

“This is…” The experienced Minister of Health frowned. “The shape of these scales seems somewhat familiar.”

With the Dean of the Kingdom Central Infirmary examining him personally, a great weight was lifted from Santas’s heart. He quickly explained, “My lord Minister, these are the scales from a Serpent-Scaled Griffin. I couldn’t be more familiar with them; there’s no way I’m mistaken.”

Serpent-Scaled Griffin…

A look of realization dawned on Egnor’s face, but then he muttered to himself in confusion, “How can a person grow the scales of a Demonic beast? Could a Spellcaster from the capital be secretly experimenting on soldiers?”

The thought horrified him. He was about to straighten up and question the soldier when he saw the man’s pained expression as he pointed to the medical file cast aside.

“My lord Minister, perhaps you should really look at my file… I… could my condition be because, as a Starfire Warrior, I am deeply fused with a Beast Soul?”

“After all, my exclusive Beast Soul happens to be a Serpent-Scaled Griffin…”

Egnor was taken aback and sank into thought.

Wylan, standing by, spoke up, “We all know about Starfire Warriors fusing with Beast Souls. It’s impossible for the potion to trigger a mutation… Its ingredients don’t have the side effect of mana corrosion.”

It was precisely because the new potion had undergone repeated clinical trials that he and Simmons had dared to risk using it on these extraordinary warriors, unafraid of any life-threatening emergencies.

Egnor remained silent, lost in thought, but a vague theory had already formed in his mind—

The New Life Potion…

Although the Magic Potion Research Institute publicly claimed that it was a perfect fusion of magic potions and the Holy See’s divine arts, using a blessing ritual to enhance the potion’s potency while effectively eliminating mana corrosion.

In reality, the first two elements didn’t contribute all that much…

The true core technology actually originated from the Legacy Fragment—New Life—that His Majesty the Emperor used from his own Dominion.

By using the power of laws contained within it, he had extensively altered the original nature of the magic herbs, allowing them to completely shed their innate, impure mana while fully retaining their medicinal effects.

The first batch of the New Life Potion introduced to the army naturally targeted mortally wounded soldiers suffering from severe trauma. The Magic Potion Research Institute had carefully controlled the dosage so it could replace surgical sutures to achieve rapid flesh regeneration, with the main goal of controlling major hemorrhaging.

Egnor simply hadn’t expected that this potion, which contained a minuscule amount of the power of New Life, could secretly and imperceptibly nourish the recipient’s soul while healing their physical body.

One had to understand that even the Moonlight Brew, which high-level casters took in emergencies during battle to heal spiritual damage, was a double-edged sword with its medicinal and toxic properties split fifty-fifty. Not only was it expensive and difficult to concoct… an overdose could trigger a fatal mana backlash.

Yet this Starfire Warrior showed no symptoms of discomfort after taking the potion. Instead, because he frequently fused with his Beast Soul, the spiritual consciousness of the Serpent-Scaled Griffin had intertwined and connected with his own. This ultimately led the power of laws in the New Life Potion to directly facilitate the revival and completion of the residual Beast Soul consciousness within his body.

The natural result was that his body became infused with the mark of the Beast Soul… which manifested in his flesh as a bestial trait—the growth of griffin snake scales.

Business Trip on the Weekend

Business trip on the weekend…

I’m going to Guiyang tomorrow, so I’ll announce a break in advance.

Chapter 763: Military Potion Company

Two days later, Egnor once again walked into the Emperor’s office with the clinical trial report for the New Life Potion.

“Oh? Of the potions administered to the army this time, only one Starfire Warrior had an adverse reaction?”

Harvey had only skimmed a few pages when he immediately noticed a newly added record in the report—it was for Santas, the Starfire Warrior who had recently participated in the Leru Grand Canyon operation.

Egnor bowed and said in a low voice, “That’s right. After repeated tests and examinations, we found that only this Starfire Warrior, who has a fused Beast Soul, experienced a Side Effect after taking the potion. We are calling it… Soul Proliferation.”

Harvey nodded. He, of all people, was most familiar with the power of laws contained within the New Life fragments. The magic herbs catalyzed by them would inevitably carry this characteristic. Not only did they promote the rapid healing and growth of flesh and blood, but the test subjects’ souls were also strengthened to a certain degree.

“The impact of the Side Effect is negligible. Compared to the slight bestial atavism on the surface of their bodies, a stronger soul helps them better drive and control their Demon Armor and Beast Soul, allowing them to unleash greater combat power.”

Harvey tapped the report on his desk and said lightly, “In that case, inform the Spec Ops squad’s commanding instructor to add a small, discretionary dose of the New Life Potion to the nourishing potions provided to the warriors from now on.”

Egnor bowed in acknowledgment and then continued, “Your Majesty, the feedback from the army regarding the new potion from the Magic Potion Research Institute has been excellent. About the matter of establishing a military potion company…”

“You plan to recruit and gather all those Holy See Priests who assisted in potion development this way?” Harvey’s eyebrow rose as he asked bluntly.

The group of Priests and clerics sent over by the exiled Holy See from the Holy City Goris was a mixed bag of young and old, of varying quality. A good four-tenths of them were elderly men with graying hair and beards, and the vast majority simply could not withstand the rigors of combat medicine.

After the other, younger Priests were dispatched to various army bases, these “eliminated” elders were forced to remain in the capital. Egnor would only send for them when the Magic Potion Research Institute required divine arts for its experiments.

Egnor had always felt it was a waste, a loss even, not to squeeze every last bit of value out of these personnel from the Holy See.

“If they can’t join the military medical system, then hire them through the Ministry of Health’s standard Talent Recruitment process for medical personnel. Separate the military and civilian potion companies. That way, the potions they produce can be more targeted.”

Harvey nodded, immediately understanding the intention.

Magic potions released to the civilian market were mostly mild in nature… Aside from the numerous vaccines for prevention, many medicines for chronic illnesses that required long-term use were able to reduce the Side Effect of mana corrosion to a negligible level.

Potions for the military, however, prioritized rapid effects that could immediately help healers save the lives of the wounded. Side Effects were a secondary concern… After all, one had to survive first to have a chance of dealing with the subsequent problems from the potion’s backlash.

Therefore, in addition to the New Life Potion, the Magic Potion Research Institute had also begun to introduce a psychoactive magic potion into the army… one Harvey had personally named the “Short-acting Stimulant.” Small-scale clinical drug trials were being conducted among Bloodline Warriors and front-line Army soldiers.

Initially, most of the warriors and soldiers who received the potion regarded it as a substitute for the anesthetic potion, mainly to be used for alleviating pain after an injury.

But after several battles, large and small, many soldiers who used the potion were struck by its unique and powerful effects. The biggest difference between the “Short-acting Stimulant” and the anesthetic potion was that it didn’t paralyze the injured or put them to sleep. Instead, it completely blocked out pain for a short period while also suppressing the fatigue, anxiety, and fear brought on by high-intensity combat.

Some soldiers were even able to undertake a ten-hour forced march through the barren lands after taking the potion, arriving at the designated combat zone still full of vigor.

Of course, once the potion’s effects gradually wore off, the soldiers would become as lethargic as they had once been energetic… This Side Effect was significant. When it was first successfully developed, the Academy of Sciences raised concerns, worrying it could lead to dependency and addiction among the soldiers.

Some research Spellcasters in the New Federation also keenly detected traces of Holy See Priests’ involvement in the drug’s development… The “flavor” of blessings and Sacred Prayer in the potion’s effects was simply too strong!

Fortunately, with His Majesty the Emperor’s backing, Egnor managed to push through the pressure from all sides and successfully delivered the first trial batch to the army, smoothly receiving a clinical report with positive feedback.

“You can try hiring these Church Priests on short-term contracts. If they pass an evaluation during their employment, you can issue them formal work contracts depending on the situation…”

In any case, whether they joined the army or worked in a factory, as long as they were integrated into the Kingdom’s system, it was equivalent to undergoing “labor reform”… Harvey was generally satisfied with the performance of this first batch of followers sent from the Holy City Goris over the past half-year.

Egnor’s heart leaped with joy, and he couldn’t help but ask, “Then what about the mass production of the Short-acting Stimulant…”

According to the Kingdom’s regulations on the research and manufacturing of magic potions, he needed dual approval from the New Federation and the Academy of Sciences. Otherwise, even with the Emperor’s personal support, the potion’s production would be stuck at the clinical trial stage.

Harvey paused, pondering for a moment before speaking slowly, “The stimulant indeed cannot eliminate physical injuries or ailments. Its function is simply to provide rapid pain relief and delay the onset of all the negative symptoms that come with being wounded…”

“It may seem to be of little value, but its effect is actually crucial! No matter how resolute a soldier’s will, they are still mortals of flesh and blood. The immense pain from severe injuries, the deep fatigue from marching and fighting without rest… all these things will cause their focus to scatter, making it difficult to respond effectively in a crisis. This is especially true for the seriously wounded. I would rather they use the potion to stay conscious and calmly treat their own fatal injuries, instead of going into shock from the pain and failing to hold on until medical personnel arrive.”

As for the subsequent Side Effects, Harvey’s stance remained the same… one had to survive first to have the chance to endure the Side Effects of the drug.

In the past, many soldiers of the Northern Army died because their consciousness faded or they went into shock from pain after being injured… They were unable to administer self-aid, nor could they hold on until medical personnel arrived, ultimately dying from blood loss in the trenches.

Harvey only hoped that once military potions, with the Short-acting Stimulant as a key component, entered mass production, this kind of deplorable situation could be effectively improved.

“Go to the Academy of Sciences and the Federation in person and relay my words to them… I believe they will understand. I fully support the establishment of the military potion company… and the mass production of the stimulant.”

Chapter 764: The Reserves

“Baron Herrera, this is now the territory of Greentarn County.”

Beside a wide, straight, and level road, a man in the uniform of a St. Valen official lifted the curtain of a carriage window. He smiled, poking his head out to introduce the area to the knight standing beside the carriage.

The noble in the carriage was Baron Peyton, the temporary administrator of the Wolf Fang Ridge border pass. The knight sitting upright on his horse was Baron Herrera, a relative by marriage, a military noble from Steelrock City.

Herrera was not like the other nobles of Isengard. After the non-human races of the north invaded and the flames of war gradually spread to the central region of the kingdom, most of the great lords with large fiefdoms either blindly organized their armies and fought recklessly, only to be crushed to dust by the Demonic Lizardmen army—their cities and very lives turned to rubble.

Or, having heard early on of the terrifying reputation of the non-human races, they had hastily fled south with their family wealth and private knights, abandoning the innocent people of their fiefdoms without a second thought.

But Baron Herrera, as one of the three ruling nobles of Steelrock City, though young and newly ascended to his position as head of the family, had shouldered the responsibility of protecting the entire city’s populace after the other two noble families fled first. On one hand, he dispatched his small force to scout the situation to the north; on the other, he methodically organized the citizens for a phased evacuation.

Afterward, he led the charge from the front with his family’s knight order, staying behind in Steelrock City to fight the enemy to the death, buying precious time for the residents retreating south.

When the Northern Army’s Eastern Defense Line pushed north all the way to the central region of Isengard, they happened to rescue the last of the remnant soldiers of the knight order led by Baron Herrera. They had been pursued all the way from Steelrock City by more than ten Winged ones and were on the verge of being annihilated when they received aid from the army of the neighboring kingdom.

His home and country had been invaded and ravaged by a non-human race, his people slaughtered without cause… this was naturally a blood feud for the young baron, who upheld the supreme honor of the nobility and knighthood. He also understood the principle that the enemy of his enemy was his friend, so he readily accepted the Northern Army’s “recruitment” and followed them back to the Wolf Fang Ridge border region to rest and regroup.

Unexpectedly, he ran into his kinsman, Baron Peyton. After much persuasion… he formally swore an oath of fealty to the Emperor of St. Valen, asking only for the opportunity to return to his homeland and exact revenge upon the non-human races.

“Although the Emperor has abolished the hereditary rights to fiefdoms for nobles, he does not forbid us from continuing to enjoy the honor and social status that our titles bring. As long as our reputation remains… we won’t have to worry about a lack of opportunity to start over, even in a strange land.”

Baron Peyton greatly admired this kinsman who had fought so bravely against the invaders. He tirelessly taught him the ways of survival in a new country and even took personal leave to accompany him to his government-assigned temporary residence—Clearwater Town in Greentarn County.

“Most of the people settling in Greentarn County are Isengardians, and many of them are former residents from the Steelrock City area. His Majesty the Emperor has assigned you here, so I suspect it won’t be long before you’re directly recruited into a government department. The position of county administrator will surely be yours in the future.”

Baron Peyton clicked his tongue with envy. He thought about his own difficult work overseeing the reception of immigrants at the border, a task that would likely take more than a year or two. Who knew when he would achieve enough merit to be promoted and rewarded?

Baron Herrera frowned, his expression unmoved. “With the non-human invasion, my country lost and my land is gone, and my family’s honor has been shamed,” he said impatiently. “My purpose in coming to St. Valen was to regroup and seek revenge… not for some official post from His Majesty the Emperor!”

If he hadn’t been directly refused, he would have stayed at the border, preferably fighting side-by-side with those exceptionally powerful people of St. Valen to slaughter all the non-human races trickling south from the north.

But when you’re under someone else’s roof, you have to bow your head… Herrera turned to look at the troop of cavalrymen following him. Though they had made a narrow escape from Steelrock City with him and journeyed all this way, nearly every man was wounded. If not for the exhaustive efforts of those “magical doctors” at Wolf Fang Ridge, more than half of them would have died from the severity of their injuries.

He owed the other side a tremendous debt of gratitude, and with their military might as a deterrent, he could only obey and proceed to Greentarn County as arranged.

However, the Emperor seemed to hold him in high regard, specially approving his right to retain his title and continue to command his family’s cavalry regiment. Although it consisted of just over a hundred remnant soldiers, it allowed Herrera to preserve the last flame of his hope for revenge.

“If you ask me… you need to be careful and keep a low profile with the men you have. Nowhere in the entire kingdom, north or south, has any local noble been allowed to hold military power and maintain knights. Even with His Majesty the Emperor’s special consideration, you must be careful not to arouse the jealousy of others, Herrera… We are, after all, nobles who have submitted from a foreign land.”

Baron Peyton was a natural political animal, always keenly aware of such matters, and he couldn’t help but offer a word of advice.

“And you should stop thinking only about fighting your way back for revenge… What can a hundred or so knights possibly achieve? Even St. Valen’s magical army, which dominates the south, is currently in a stalemate with the Demonic Lizardmen in the central region. Rushing back now would just be making trouble and getting yourself killed.”

Herrera’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “St. Valen’s army has already advanced all the way to the central plains? Where did you get this information? Do you… have connections in the capital of St. Valen?”

Peyton rolled his eyes and pulled a stack of newspapers from inside the carriage, tossing them at Herrera. “You have no political sense at all. How could a foreign noble like me possibly scheme my way into the kingdom’s inner circle? That would be suicide. This is the Starfire Weekly, distributed throughout the kingdom every week. It clearly publishes military briefings on the war with the non-human races!”

Then, with a hint of pride, he added in a low voice, “Of course, the Department of State and the Ministry of Defense also have their own independently published internal journals. If you want to know the specific deployments of military operations, the casualties and losses… and the strategic direction for the next phase, the internal journals are where you get firsthand information.”

Herrera stared blankly at the richly illustrated content of the newspapers in his hands. For a moment, his breathing grew heavy… Were the people of St. Valen truly planning to stand at the forefront of the Humans of the south and independently shoulder the glorious responsibility of resisting the non-human races?

Or perhaps… His Majesty the Emperor, who had established his capital in the Northern Barren Lands, practically on the front lines of the invasion, saw the other kingdoms of the south as useless trash, believing there was no need to form an alliance with them to fight the enemy?

The young baron took a deep breath and said decisively to Peyton, “Can you make some arrangements for me? I want to join the St. Valen army. I’ll even start as the lowest-ranking officer! When we escaped from Steelrock City, my squires and I brought some gold with us…”

Before he could finish, two alchemical wheeled vehicles came rumbling toward them from the end of the road leading to Greentarn County.

Two men, also dressed in the dark blue uniforms of officials, jumped out of the vehicles. They sized up the knight on horseback with a scrutinizing gaze, then smiled. “Baron Herrera of Steelrock City, correct?”

“I am. And you two gentlemen are?”

“We are administrative directors from the Clearwater Town municipal department, here to cooperate with the capital’s new nationwide recruitment drive… Baron Herrera, are you and the knights behind you willing to accept enlistment and serve as instructors for the Greentarn County militia training camp, and also be responsible for the recruitment and training of the entire county’s reserves?”

Chapter 765: Searching for the Guns

In autumn, the Isengard Prairie was a boundless expanse of gold. The yellow-green blades of grass stirred in the breeze, rising and falling in waves. From the sky, a mobile unit of the Northern Army could be seen driving through this vast sea of grass.

As the wheeled vehicle reached the crest of a grassy hill, Benny leaned halfway out the window, raising a spyglass to his eye. He gazed down at a dense forest in the lowlands ahead—their destination, Sand Gold Town.

As the Isengard Eastern Defense Line gradually moved north, the large number of Demonic Lizardmen who had originally occupied this area were gradually cleared out by the Northern Army’s mobile units. Many of the local people who had migrated south began to return, gathering once more in this small, forested town.

To return despite the risk of being attacked by non-humans at any moment, and to have the audacity to remain in town—the reason for it all… was, in truth, a tale of people dying for wealth as birds die for food.

Sand Gold Town owed its name to the ancient, dried-up riverbed behind it, which was laden with placer gold. Decades ago, an earthquake had churned a section of the ancient riverbed—over five kilometers long—to the surface, revealing the gold that had been sealed within.

The Cavalry Kingdom was already rich in gold, and the nearby noble lords weren’t particularly interested in this low-purity placer gold. Thus, this place became a rare paradise for civilian gold prospectors. Within just a few years, several thousand people gathered here, gradually forming a sizable town.

Benny’s battalion headquarters was originally assigned to mobile patrol missions in non-enemy-occupied territories. Their main objective was to eliminate the small units of Demonic Lizardmen that occasionally broke through the Eastern Defense Line and roamed into the rear to harass transport convoys.

And with His Majesty the Emperor’s order to accelerate the accommodation of refugees and rescue as many compatriots as possible, units like theirs, which weren’t scheduled for frontline combat duties, also joined the effort to relocate and aid refugees.

Two months ago, he had come to Sand Gold Town to help a transport convoy escort the thousand-odd townspeople remaining in the town to the border regions in a massive procession… He never expected that, as time went on, aerial patrol teams would discover that the town’s population, instead of decreasing, had actually grown. More and more people were lingering here.

The first line of battle had moved north, and the Northern Army’s mobile units frequently operated in the vicinity, which inadvertently gave the local people a great sense of security… There were rumors that the occasional remnants of non-human races who appeared nearby were also dealt with by an Ore Guard spontaneously organized by the locals.

This was one of the two important tasks Benny had come to handle this time.

Although the evacuation was not mandatory, every laborer they could bring back to the United Kingdom was one more person for their effective strength in production and combat. The battalion commander had only given him the task of gathering five hundred people to evacuate… a task that, frankly, was not too difficult.

But the other matter was a bit trickier… An intelligence operative on the outskirts of Sand Gold Town had informed him that someone in the town’s Ore Guard was suspected of using a long-range magical weapon extremely similar to a Magical Energy Gun. This was also the main reason they were able to successfully kill the winged species that had roamed into the woods outside of town.

Although that giant bat had been injured, it would have been no simple feat to take it down relying solely on the two low-rank Bloodline Warriors leading the Ore Guard… The Cavalry Kingdom had few Spellcasters to begin with, and it was even less likely that some passing wizard had suddenly intervened.

So, why had military weapons flowed into civilian hands, and into the hands of a foreign civilian militia at that? The matter was exceptionally sensitive… Even if it was just a few firearms and some ammunition that had been accidentally lost, if the news reached the military high command, the few Battalion Commanders currently directing operations on the Eastern Front would likely not escape accountability and punishment.

“Chief, are we stationing ourselves directly in the town this time, and then organizing the evacuation when the transport convoy arrives tomorrow?” the adjutant, focused on driving the vehicle, couldn’t help but ask. “With so many people gathered in town, they haven’t started panning for that placer gold again, have they? Talk about risking their lives for money!”

In fact, the first time Benny came, he ran right into a roaming band of Demonic Lizardmen ravaging the town and its surroundings. A mere twenty-some winged species had slaughtered nearly ten times their number of innocent civilians in a one-sided massacre. By the time they held out long enough for the Northern Army to arrive and rescue them… corpses had piled up in the town’s streets and the nearby streams.

That evacuation had gone very smoothly. A full eighty percent of the populace had been willing to follow orders and leave with the army in batches. The rest had spontaneously driven their beasts of burden and donkey carts southward. Almost no one dared to remain in the small town, just waiting to die.

“Battalion Commander Wayne’s unit crushed a main force of Demonic Lizardmen at Rhino Horn City to the north. Many of that city’s people fled south all the way here. Add to that the natives who had already returned on their own, and this place became lively again in just half a month.”

Benny shook his head with a touch of helplessness and said in a low voice, “We’ll station ourselves directly in the town. With this many people, the transport convoy can’t take them all in one trip.”

The Northern Army company of over a hundred men drove their alchemical wheeled vehicles, rumbling down the grassy slope toward the small town below. In less than half an hour, they reached an open area outside the town where they had made camp before.

The townspeople also noticed the arrival of the St. Valen people. They gathered around to watch from the side, occasionally huddling together and whispering.

The original town mayor and nobles of Sand Gold Town had either died in the non-human slaughter months ago or had evacuated early with the Northern Army. At present, the entire town seemed to be under the temporary control of the Ore Guard.

Benny jumped down from the wheeled vehicle. He immediately spotted a tall, powerfully built local mercenary with a broadsword hanging at his waist and quickly waved him over. “Have the leader of the Ore Guard come see me. We need to discuss the civilian evacuation.”

The mercenary was naturally aware of the identity and origin of the St. Valen man before him. Not daring to delay, he quickly bowed and turned to leave… Before long, he returned, hurriedly leading two similarly sturdily built, middle-aged men over.

Watching the two figures running toward him, Benny’s eyes narrowed instantly, his gaze locking onto their shoulders—slung across the backs of these two low-rank Bloodline Warriors were standard-issue Magical Energy Guns, produced by the munitions factories of the capital, Starfire City!

It was just that the entire body of each gun was wrapped in dirty cloth strips, making it difficult to roughly identify their specific models and types from their external silhouettes and shapes alone.

The two adjutants standing behind Benny also keenly noticed that something was wrong. When their Captain turned back and gave them a look, the three of them quickly reached a consensus.

Most of the townspeople were currently gathered nearby, watching. If they moved against the Ore Guard on the spot, the situation would likely spiral out of control. If the refugees started to riot… Benny’s company of one hundred men couldn’t stop the charge of a thousand people, not unless they took up positions and returned fire indiscriminately.

For now, they could only pretend to be blind. After they had negotiated the evacuation with the Ore Guard, he would find a chance to contact the intelligence operative hiding in the town and find out how the military’s standard-issue weapons had fallen into their hands.

Chapter 766: Misunderstanding

“Sir… my name is Fleming, and this is Lang. We are the leaders of the Sand Gold Town Ore Guard.”

The powerfully built, middle-aged man bowed slightly, revealing a dark, bluish-black sun emblem on his wrist with the movement… a devout follower of the Church. Coupled with his status as a Bloodline Warrior, he was most likely a member of a Church Guard trained by some noble lord.

Benny nodded without a change in expression, then put on a milder tone. “Sand Gold Town is too close to our front line with the non-human races. Demonic Lizardmen often break through our defenses and roam into this area. Why are you still staying here? Is gold really more important than your lives?”

Fleming and Lang glanced at each other, both offering a helpless, bitter smile. “This isn’t about our greed, Sir… Many of us are refugees who fled from Rhino Horn City. We have families and little food. If we head south and don’t run into a St. Valen rescue convoy, we’ll just die of hunger and thirst in the grasslands and desert. It’s no different from staying here to wait for death.”

These words were, in truth, a mix of fact and fiction, and both sides knew it… The people who were still willing to linger in Sand Gold Town were either taking advantage of the town’s temporary freedom from a noble’s dominion to pan for gold without paying taxes, or they had property and valuables left behind in Rhino Horn City and were waiting for the battle between the St. Valen army and the non-human races to conclude before looking for a chance to return.

In essence, they would rather risk their lives than give up the money within their grasp.

“Don’t delude yourselves into thinking the battle on the front line will be decided anytime soon…” Benny’s tone grew stern. “The gold in the riverbed isn’t going to grow legs and run away. As long as you’re alive, you’ll have a chance to return home one day. Persuade your people to cooperate with the evacuation, or the transport convoys will no longer bring you supplies and food.”

Sand Gold Town did not produce its own food. The town’s provisions normally relied entirely on regular deliveries from private merchant caravans, which primarily sold and transported goods from the nearby Rhino Horn City.

If these St. Valen soldiers made good on their threat to cut off food aid, the nearly two thousand people remaining in the town would face a food crisis within three days at most. At that point, the Ore Guard, with fewer than a hundred men, would be completely unable to maintain order, and this place would instantly devolve into a lawless region rife with mob violence.

Fleming understood the situation. After a moment of thought, he said, “The elderly, women, and children are the easiest to persuade and mobilize, Sir… We can guarantee they will listen and evacuate with your transport first.”

That would still amount to four or five hundred people. Benny nodded reluctantly, then pressed, “How much food is currently stored in the town?”

Lang frowned and replied, “Not much. Half a month ago, the logistics masters from the Northern Army were escorting military supplies and stopped by the town to give us some long-lasting wheat cakes and salted dry meat, but we’ve consumed just about all of it… If not for the bit of food the more recent refugees brought with them, the people would have started rioting from hunger in the past couple of days.”

“I heard you killed a winged species that roamed nearby a few days ago?”

“That’s right, Sir… The creature’s wing was half-shattered. It was practically on the verge of death when it escaped to this place, so it wasn’t hard to take care of.” A clear look of pride appeared on Fleming’s face; he was very proud of his feat of protecting his compatriots and killing a non-human.

Benny nodded slightly and said coolly, “Have you disposed of the monster’s corpse?”

Lang shook his head blankly and stammered, “We threw it in the mill’s cellar. The other brothers in the Ore Guard said… maybe we could trade it with you sirs for some military merit, to get a little more food aid.”

“Very well, take us to see it…” Benny gave a subtle look to his two adjutants, who immediately understood and ordered several soldiers to follow them as they went straight into the town with Fleming and Lang.

…

Inside the dark and damp cellar, the mangled corpse of the winged species radiated a thick stench of rust and blood. Benny and his men, long accustomed to such smells, were unfazed. It was the men of the Ore Guard who were unwilling to enter; only their leaders, Fleming and Lang, stood by the door, covering their noses.

“Here… this is that bat monster.”

Benny crouched down and turned the corpse over, discovering two distinct puncture wounds in its left chest and lower abdomen. The edges of the wounds were clotted with dark, congealed blood—the exact effect of a Magical Energy Gun hitting a body.

“What weapon did you use to kill it?”

Fleming replied casually, completely unconcerned, “A… weapon, very similar to the magic artifacts you use. It’s called…”

Before he could finish, Benny suddenly barked an order. The four soldiers who had been waiting by the door lunged forward, tackling the two unprepared men to the ground and pinning them down… The strength of low-level Bloodline Warriors far exceeds that of ordinary people, and the two men instinctively tried to fight back. It was only when two cold gun barrels were pressed against their heads that they stopped struggling in terror.

“Sir! What… what is this for? We haven’t done anything out of line!”

An adjutant stepped forward, yanked the long guns wrapped in cloth strips from their backs, and unwrapped them with a few quick movements… revealing silvery gun barrels that showed clear signs of use.

“Similar to the weapons we use… Hmph, I’d say they’re identical, wouldn’t you? These are standard-issue weapons of the St. Valen Northern Army. Where did you get them? And you have the nerve to flaunt them right in front of us. I guess you have a death wish!”

Benny didn’t need to think hard to guess how they had obtained the Magical Energy Guns… As members of a noble’s Church Guard, they had likely fled from places like Rhino Horn City, which was the very front line of the Northern Army’s battle against the Demonic Lizardmen. In the brutal and bloody street fighting, it was not uncommon for soldiers to be killed in action. Their weapons could have been missed when their bodies were collected, and thus fallen into the hands of people like these.

And since they had often seen St. Valen soldiers use these weapons, they would naturally have figured out how to fire them.

“Besides stealing the guns, how many bullets did you steal? Have you used these magical energy guns to attack our own people? Confess everything… or I have the right to execute you on the spot!”

Fleming finally realized the gravity of the situation and stammered in fear, “Sir! We absolutely did not steal any weapons! This… this was left behind by our Lord after he died in battle! We heard it was a magical weapon that came into our country from the neighboring nation of Da’ers… It’s definitely not from the St. Valen army!”

What? Da’ers?

Benny froze, only then remembering to take a closer look at the two long guns before him.

In terms of design, they were indeed a very old model. In his two-plus years of military service, Benny had never encountered anything like it. Both the overall forging process of the barrel and the joint designs on the body… everything indicated that this was a standard-issue weapon that had been completely phased out by the army long ago.

He disassembled the gun with practiced ease, and what he found left everyone present stunned… The thing was still the most primitive single-shot model, the kind where you had to load a new bullet after every shot…

But many of its components looked brand new, making the gun seem as if it was cobbled together from a mix of new and old parts.

Could it be that some Spellcaster families in Da’ers, or a branch of the old Federation, are trying to copy our Magical Energy Guns?

Benny stared at the ancient thing in his hand and fell into deep thought.

Chapter 767: Magic Stones and Rifles

“Can someone please explain to me what’s going on here?”

Harvey pointed to the standard-issue Magical Energy Gun on his desk and asked, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

Fell Hoden, the Son of Flame, sat on the study’s sofa along with the hastily summoned Spellshield, Fran Macaulay, and his own nephew, Durt Holden. All of them wore expressions of awkward helplessness.

“Ahem… Your Majesty, this matter was actually… carried out with your consent,” the Spellshield explained resignedly when his two colleagues remained silent. “A long time ago, the Hoden family of Da’ers requested to purchase standard-issue weapons from you. At the time, the munitions factory was already selling the Gun of Annihilation to the old Federation, and the military was also in the process of a large-scale phase-out of older Magical Energy Gun models…”

The initial batch of single-shot firearms used to equip Harvey’s first militia had practically piled up like mountains in the munitions factory’s spare parts warehouse. The old models—from their metal composition and casting techniques to the offensive formations inscribed within them—were completely obsolete. Rainer, the territory’s financial steward, had a flash of inspiration and proposed “recycling” these weapons that were on the verge of being scrapped.

As a result, the guns, along with their already meager ammunition reserves, were sold to the Hoden family through personal connections. With Harvey’s approval, a dedicated production line for magic stone bullets was even opened for them. This small-batch supply of ammunition had been maintained to this day.

A look of realization dawned on Harvey’s face. Only now did he recall signing such a decree in the early days of the city’s founding.

Da’ers, the wizard kingdom where the Hoden family resided, was located in the central part of the south… The neighboring countries were all war-torn regions like St. Valen, Goris, and Isengard. Compounded by the old Federation’s weak control over the area, the wizard families who secretly governed the nation, led by the Hoden family, were the first to extend an olive branch of alliance and goodwill to Harvey.

When the civil war in St. Valen broke out, Da’ers had given its unreserved support to all of Starfire City’s military actions on the Kingdom’s border. They had even dispatched a Mage Corps stationed within their country to reinforce the attack on Bluebramble City in the Barkley Duchy.

“Even so, they shouldn’t just turn around and resell our weapons to the nobles of Isengard, should they?” Astaren, indifferent to the private friendship between His Majesty the Emperor and Mr. Son of Flame, questioned coldly.

“The old weapons phased out by the army were sold to the Hoden family with the intention of strengthening your military, so you could defend against any non-human races that might flee from the Papal State. It was not to encourage you to supply weapons to the nobles of the Cavalry Kingdom to cultivate friendly foreign powers.”

The Son of Flame’s face flushed crimson. He exhaled sharply through his nose, stood up, and placed a hand on his chest. “I personally guarantee to Your Majesty that the Hoden family would never commit such a foolish act… It must be the idiotic work of one of the other allied families. Please allow me to return to Da’ers and investigate their transgression!”

Seeing his uncle take the blame, Durt quickly stood as well and stammered, “Your Majesty, although they were audacious enough to secretly sell the weapons, at least the production of firearms and ammunition is still in our hands. The portion that flowed into Isengard shouldn’t be able to stir up too much trouble.”

Harvey nodded and waved his hand for the agitated Fire Mage to sit down. He let out a laugh. “Alright… I don’t intend to get angry over this. The total number of guns sold was just over five hundred. The families in Da’ers kept most of them, so the number that could have been exported is probably a few dozen at most. It’s no big deal.”

This primitive model, which required reloading after every shot, was even less of a threat than a mid-rank Mage’s instant-casting spells. Its only real advantage was its surprising effectiveness at killing Demonic Lizardmen by piercing their magic-resistant hide.

He paused, then his tone shifted. “However, by rights, it must be investigated thoroughly. Mr. Hoden, there’s no need for you to go back personally. Have the wizard families of Da’ers come to the capital themselves and explain the entire matter to me in person.”

At these words, the Son of Flame shot to his feet, his expression apologetic. “Your Majesty, I will write to them at once and summon them to haul themselves to the Northern Realm for investigation!”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and stormed out of the room in a huff.

Harvey shook his head with a helpless, wry smile. Given the Son of Flame’s temper and his authority within the Hoden family, those wizard families would undoubtedly receive a harsh warning and a scolding beforehand. They would likely be sick with worry for the entire journey.

…

After the others had left one by one, only Harvey and Astaren remained in the study.

After a moment of pensive thought, Harvey suddenly tapped his fingers on the desk. “Tell me,” he began, looking at Astaren, “what if we distribute the old, phased-out military weapons to the reserve militia units we’re currently forming? Wouldn’t that be a decent idea?”

Astaren was taken aback. “Your Majesty,” he asked cautiously, “the reserve troops… are meant to replenish front-line casualties in a future all-out war with the non-human races. Wouldn’t it be too soon to send them to the battlefield?”

“An all-out war? I know very well what the Ministry of Defense is thinking… What they’re truly worried about is the Demonic Lizardmen pouring a massive number of troops into the breach at Isengard and invading our territory. If the Eastern Defense Line is compromised, the fighting will likely erupt in the border regions…”

The eastern part of the Kingdom lacked a natural barrier like the Spine of the Continent Mountains. It could easily be infiltrated by small, advancing groups of Winged ones. The entire border region would become like a sieve, with every corner at risk of attack.

This was the main reason why the military’s top brass, led by Pierce, was pushing to increase troop numbers despite pressure from all sides.

All fear stems from a lack of manpower and firepower…

“This is also why I want to deploy the militia to the battlefield as soon as possible. We must hold the non-occupied areas south of the Isengard line. Relying solely on the regular army’s mobile units to patrol back and forth will run them ragged and leave them unable to cover all their bases.”

The reserve recruitment drive initiated in the eastern part of the Kingdom primarily targeted the refugees taken in from the grasslands. Among them were many stalwart individuals like Baron Herrera, who yearned to return to their homeland and exact revenge on the enemy.

If these people were put to good use—organized into militia guerrilla units with a respectable degree of combat effectiveness, split into small-scale combat units, and flexibly deployed throughout the non-occupied zones of the vast grasslands to deal specifically with small enemy groups that cross the Eastern Defense Line—it would undoubtedly alleviate a great deal of pressure on the front-line troops.

At the same time, these people could also assist transport teams in rescuing more refugees, killing two birds with one stone.

“Magic stones and rifles, grassland guerrilla units active in the rear area…” Harvey found the mere thought of it invigorating. “These militia, who long for their homeland, will surely show no mercy to the common enemy of all humanity.”

Chapter 768: Militia Guerrilla Units

“Everyone, listen up! Rest where you are for fifteen minutes. Do not move without orders!”

On the playing field, scorched by the blazing sun, Ereila yelled himself hoarse. He then handed over the task of monitoring the troops to a few of his deputies and hurried to a canopy set up at the edge of the field.

An official from Clearwater Town’s City Hall was already waiting there, accompanied by several unfamiliar faces, all dressed in dark black military uniforms.

The young Baron was not yet able to clearly distinguish the men’s ranks and positions from the insignia embroidered on their chests. He could only manage a strained smile and bow. “Sirs, this is…”

The City Hall official, who had dealt with Ereila several times, introduced them with a smile. “These men were sent by the Eastern Military Region to guide the militia’s work. One is here to assist you with troop recruitment and new recruit training, and the other is the militia’s Political Instructor… Heh, he also serves as a staff officer.”

The two young officers, who were about Ereila’s age, introduced themselves with stern faces and serious attitudes.

Their demeanor made the Baron’s heart pound… He was, of course, well aware that the Valen people would not so easily entrust the authority to form an army and command soldiers to an affiliated noble like himself, who had only just pledged fealty. Allowing him to participate was most likely to leverage the good reputation he had built in Steelrock City, as well as his eagerness to counter-attack his homeland and expel the non-human race.

It was only natural for them to send people to share his authority and monitor him. Ereila didn’t care about that for now… The only thing he truly cared about was when he could assemble an army and, with St. Valen’s support, exact his revenge on those non-humans.

“Lord Baron, how many of the Plainsman immigrants who have settled here have you recruited so far?” the ensign named Tangs asked, breaking the somewhat stiff atmosphere.

Ereila mulled it over for a moment before answering honestly, “The Isengard immigrants who have just arrived and settled in Clearwater Town are mostly the elderly, women, and children. The number of able-bodied young men suitable for recruitment isn’t very large… If the military approves my request to expand the scope of militia recruitment to all of Greentarn County, I can guarantee that the force will grow to two thousand men within a month.”

Tangs nodded. “I have come this time with an order authorizing that very expansion. You need not worry, Lord Baron.”

The other man, a Political Instructor named Karl, turned to observe the militia currently training at attention on the playing field. His tone was neutral as he asked, “Does the Lord Baron intend to use mercenary training methods to forge these men into real soldiers capable of fighting the non-human race?”

Hearing this, Ereila’s face flushed slightly red. After accepting the task of forming the militia, no one had given him any instructions for a while, so he could only rely on his past methods for recruiting and training mercenaries to get the men he had gathered started.

The combat effectiveness of the Northern Army was beyond question, but he had no idea how the Valen people cultivated such a disciplined and valiant magical army. He could only lower his head and say hesitantly, “Sirs, please teach me your methods of training soldiers…”

Tangs chuckled, took a small hardcover booklet from his briefcase, and handed it to Ereila with a smile. The baron took it and saw the title emblazoned on the cover… St. Valen Militia Reserve Training Manual.

To think they would actually compile something like this into a dedicated book for people to study.

Before he could open it and read it carefully, he heard Tangs’s voice again. “You are not the only progressive noble in Isengard who is determined to resist the non-human race and defend their homeland… It’s just that your weapons are too backward, and the soldiers under your command are too weak to organize any effective counter-attack.”

It was the plain truth, but to Ereila, it felt like being slapped in the face in public. His cheeks burned.

Karl stepped in to smooth things over. “But our Valen soldiers are also of common birth. As long as they undergo strict military training and are issued weapons specifically designed to counter the non-human race, they can still fight those terrifying enemies face-to-face on the battlefield…”

At this point, a fervent and proud look appeared on his face. “In fact, since His Majesty the Emperor officially declared war on these northern non-human races, we Valen people have fought dozens of battles with them, large and small, deep in the barren lands, and we have almost never tasted defeat!”

Never been defeated? Have their battles with the non-human race north of the Spine of the Continent Mountains already reached such an intense level?

Wait… St. Valen’s soldiers are also of common birth. As long as they are trained and know how to use those terrifying magical weapons, they can effectively restrain and defeat those monsters!

Ereila immediately caught the clear implication in the man’s words. He looked up, his voice filled with disbelief. “The military… no! His Majesty the Emperor has agreed to equip even us, an affiliated foreign militia, with those powerful magical weapons?”

“Ahem… ‘foreign militia’? My lord, please watch your words! We are all compatriots of the same nation now,” the City Hall official quickly leaned in and reminded him in a low voice.

As if waking from a dream, Ereila hastily corrected himself. “Yes! That’s right… With His Majesty’s trust, we affiliated subjects will certainly do our utmost to pledge fealty and fight bravely against the non-human enemy!”

His gaze was fixed on the two officers as he said with sincerity, “Regarding the training of the militia, please give me your instructions, sirs…”

Karl smiled. “First, of course, is to expand recruitment throughout the county, screen and eliminate candidates, and strictly maintain qualification standards. Then, transfer these soldiers from temporary residency to professional military status…”

Next came paying the militia a salary equivalent to eighty percent of a regular soldier in the Northern Army… At the same time, all housing, education, and medical benefits were to be on par with the nation’s own soldiers. This would foster a sense of belonging to St. Valen. Only with sufficiently generous treatment could they ensure these men wouldn’t simply return home and never come back once they set foot in their homeland again.

All other aspects, such as weapons, equipment, logistical support, and food supplies, also had to be up to standard, not too far from that of the regular army. After all, according to His Majesty the Emperor’s plan, these men would eventually be dispersed to conduct guerrilla warfare in non-enemy-occupied territories. Their individual military skills and single-combat capabilities had to be up to par, and they also had to leverage the Plainsmen’s deep understanding of the local situation.

Ereila was completely dumbfounded by this long speech. He stood in a daze for a long time before asking hesitantly, “You even want the soldiers to learn to read and write?”

At this rate, it would take no small amount of time to quickly raise an army…

His mind was filled with images of His Majesty the Emperor issuing him a few magical rifles. He wished he could lead his men back to their homeland tomorrow, brandishing St. Valen’s powerful weapons.

Chapter 769: Stalemate and Street Fighting

Isengard Eastern Defense Line, Rhino Horn City.

Bang—

A sniper, positioned high in a damaged tower, fired first, accurately hitting an enemy crawling behind a stone brick cover below.

The Demonic Lizardmen troops hiding in the ruins of the buildings were thrown into sudden turmoil. Several incautious Black Lizard warriors were picked off one after another.

A floating Airship passed overhead with a low hum, seemingly in pursuit of the few remaining Winged ones, heading straight for the city gate.

“All units, attention! Fire at will!”

Before the officer had even finished speaking, a dense volley of gunfire erupted from the trenches. Bullets rained down on the enemies charging fiercely and unafraid of death, cutting them down in droves like wheat in a harvest.

In the brief lull as repeating rifles were reloaded, machine guns immediately roared to life, and the whoosh of portable cannons firing their ammunition was constant.

…

The south gate of Rhino Horn City was where the Northern Army’s forward command was located. The command post and an observation station were both set up on the city walls. Dozens of beam-based anti-air weapons were set up on high points, and several Magical Energy Machine Guns guarded every section of the wall. Simple defensive fortifications and trenches had been built both inside and outside the foot of the wall. The enemies originally active in this area had been almost completely eliminated; even the Winged ones were reluctant to venture into the airspace.

Battalion Commander Wayne stood at a battlement, raising his spyglass to survey several locations within the city where small-scale battles were breaking out. “Notify the battalion headquarters on the front lines. They must hold the entrances and exits to the city’s underground waterways at all costs and block the enemy’s retreat… If they can hold on until noon tomorrow, the enemy’s supplies will likely be exhausted.”

That would be the time for the Regiment he commanded to launch a full-scale advance and completely wipe out the remaining Demonic Lizardmen forces lingering in Rhino Horn City.

There had to be an underground river from the Abyss deep beneath Rhino Horn City. However, a solid, thick layer of rock prevented the submerged Floating Island fortress from breaking through the crust to the surface. The enemy could only exploit the city’s natural network of underground pipes, originally for drawing water, to pour into the city under the cover of night and begin their slaughter.

Rhino Horn City had fallen overnight. The great nobles who governed the city were massacred in an instant, without even having time to organize an effective defense or counterattack… Fortunately, the Demonic Lizardmen were unable to deploy large War Beasts for indiscriminate destruction. The complex city roads and dense buildings bought many of the local residents enough time to escape.

Although the main force of the Northern Army commanded by Wayne had arrived a step too late, they still relied on their powerful suppressive fire to seize the south gate. This secured a safe escape route for their foreign allies, preventing them from being surrounded by the non-human enemy’s subterranean army and becoming lambs to the slaughter.

“Battalion Commander, in Clock Tower Street in the southwestern outer city, the Fourth Battalion’s situation might not be looking good… Demonic Lizardmen reinforcements are pouring out endlessly from the waterway beneath the clock tower. There are also enemies in the outer streets assaulting their defensive fortifications. Do they need immediate reinforcements?”

“Dispatch a squadron of combat airships. Have them take out the targets in the streets. At the very least, they can’t be caught in a pincer attack…” Wayne frowned, unable to stop himself from cursing under his breath, “A bunch of gutter rats! No matter how many you kill, there are always more!”

It was no wonder he was frustrated. The Northern Army had been in Rhino Horn City for nearly a week and had fought dozens of battles, large and small, with the Demonic Lizardmen who had occupied the city first. Starting from the southern gate they had first captured, they had cautiously advanced into the city. Along the way, they had blown up and sealed nearly a hundred entrances to the underground waterways, yet they still couldn’t completely block all the channels the enemy used to reinforce the city from below.

The entire underground waterway system of Rhino Horn City was as dense as a spiderweb. A street the soldiers had just cleared the day before might see several Black Lizard warriors suddenly burst out from an inconspicuous well as they passed by again the next day, thrusting at them with black crystalline spears.

Fortunately, the fire superiority provided by their weapons was a constant reality. With enough time… the Northern Army would eventually be able to plug all the holes in the underground waterways and completely reclaim this important city on the Eastern Defense Line.

Seeing the Battalion Commander’s foul mood, the adjutant quickly tried to jest, “The soldiers have been complaining in private these last few days. They say the city’s water has been contaminated by the damned Demonic Lizardmen, and even after filtering and boiling, it’s like drinking their bathwater…”

Wayne couldn’t help but snort with laughter, a rare smile appearing on his grim face. “No wonder I keep tasting rust in the water these days.”

In truth, he was long accustomed to the pungent, putrid smell. If he could completely slaughter these detestable non-human monsters, Wayne wouldn’t even mind bathing in their blood and mire.

…

He had only exchanged a few idle words with his adjutant when a Communications Officer came jogging up from the base of the wall.

“Battalion Commander, in Blacksmith Street in the eastern outer city, the Second Battalion’s main force found a group of locals hiding in a cellar. There are about forty of them, and their leader seems to be a low-rank Bloodline Warrior…”

Wayne narrowed his eyes and said flatly, “Blacksmith Street is so close to the inner moat. Demonic Lizardmen reinforcements pour out from underground there almost daily. Are they staying there because they want to die?”

The Communications Officer paused before explaining in a heavy tone, “Most of their families and relatives were brutally slaughtered. They refuse to retreat with our troops, vowing to stay and seek revenge, even if it means dying in battle.”

This situation was not uncommon. The Northern Army had encountered it many times in the city over the past few days. These locals who voluntarily stayed to seek revenge were mostly led by some combat-capable Church Guards or knights’ squires. They used their familiarity with the city’s complex terrain to move around, carefully preserving themselves while launching deadly ambushes on lone or wounded Demonic Lizardmen.

The vengeful fury of mortals could also burn these non-human monsters.

However, what the Communications Officer reported next took Wayne by surprise.

“According to the front-line soldiers who encountered them, the leader of this group… seems to be using one of our standard-issue weapons. It looks like an obsolete, single-shot model of a Magical Energy Gun.”

This news wasn’t entirely shocking. The day before yesterday, Wayne had received a Magic Net transmission from the capital… these obsolete magical energy weapons had found their way to Isengard through various channels, originating from the wizard families of Da’ers. From His Majesty the Emperor’s message, it seemed he had no intention of pursuing these audacious individuals. He even indicated that, if the situation was right, the Northern Army could provide some logistical support to these local resistance fighters.

In other words, they were to give them some ammunition or spare parts for their guns, helping them improve their combat effectiveness as much as possible.

After all, in many cases, the Northern Army, fighting far from home in a foreign land, was far less familiar with the local situation than these civilian resistance groups who lived there.

On one side were the non-human monsters overtly invading their homeland; on the other were their fellow Humans from a neighboring country who had traveled a thousand miles to help. For the fierce and hardy Plainsmen, telling friend from foe couldn’t be easier.

Chapter 770: The ‘Guides’

A Communications Officer, holding a portable alchemical communicator, trotted over to Battalion Commander Newman.

“I understand, Battalion Commander.”

Newman’s face was grim as he took the already-connected receiver. After a long silence, he uttered only that single sentence.

He then put down the communicator, his face stern, and turned back to the Rhino Horn City natives standing before him—the self-proclaimed Vengeance Resistance Army. In a low voice, he said, “Are you sure you want to stay here and continue fighting the enemy? I can’t guarantee that once the army withdraws from this area, those monsters won’t climb out of the moat again. They always do it at night… Even in areas that have been cleared by the army, we can’t completely block every forgotten waterway.”

The leader of the resistance group had a gruesome scar running across his face, right through his brow. Newman could guess with his eyes closed that it was a direct hit from a Demonic Lizardman’s black water whip. He was lucky to be alive. Most likely, a Priest from the Church with divine healing spells had intervened.

The man was clearly a low-rank Bloodline Warrior who had awakened his bloodline talent. The sun emblem tattoo on his wrist also identified him as a member of the Holy See’s Church Guard.

“Sir, you needn’t worry about us. There are several cellars in the Blacksmith Street area where we can hide. As long as we’re careful not to move around at night, those monsters won’t find us easily.”

After dealing with the Demonic Lizardmen for some time, these Plainsmen from Isengard had gradually come to realize that the creatures were far more sensitive to transcendent beings who wielded magic or divine arts. Ordinary mortals, on the other hand, were more likely to be the fish that slipped through the net.

Right now, the enemies pouring out of the underground waterways were almost all heading for the Northern Army, desperately fighting for control of the city. This gave the local resistance fighters a chance to move through the cracks.

Seeing their resolute expressions, Newman couldn’t help but glance at them… several of them were carrying rifles on their backs. Though tightly wrapped in grimy cloth strips, their silhouettes were still instantly recognizable as Northern Army standard-issue weapons.

He frowned imperceptibly, suppressing the anger and dissatisfaction in his heart. In front of the men, Newman turned to his adjutant and ordered, “Leave them some ammunition for the Magical Energy Guns, and add two sets of fixed sights…”

The adjutant nodded and left, returning shortly with another soldier, carrying an ammunition box stamped with the emblem of the St. Valen United Kingdom and the exclusive insignia of the Northern Army.

“Five hundred Magical Energy Bullets and two sets of fixed sights… I trust the people who sold you the guns taught you how to use them. With the sights, you can ambush the enemy from a greater distance. Remember, fire one shot and change position. Don’t stay in one place for too long, and don’t expose your position easily.”

This was the most common combat tactic used by the Northern Army’s ace snipers while roaming the barren lands, and it was just as applicable to the more complex and varied terrain of urban street fights… He believed these local resistance fighters had probably figured out a few things on their own by now.

The scar-faced leader, however, seemed overwhelmed by a favor. He stammered, “S-Sir… these supplies… are they… are they really for us, free of charge?”

Newman sighed in resignation. “Since we can’t force you to evacuate, as fellow humans, we can’t just watch you die. The Northern Army’s current supplies are also limited… If you can hold out for a few more days, you can try going to the southern gate to request some food and medicine. If you have wounded, you can send them there for treatment too.”

Upon hearing this, the scar-faced leader’s eyes reddened. He lowered his head and remained silent for a moment, then, as if having made up his mind, he bit his lip and said, “Sir, you’ve been searching repeatedly around Blacksmith Street… are you looking for the main underground water source in this area?”

Newman, who had been about to turn and leave, froze. He spun around and asked urgently, “You know its exact location?”

For the past three days, Newman’s battalion had sealed and blown up countless underground water sources in the Blacksmith Street area, not even sparing wells just wide enough for an enemy to crawl out of… Yet, as soon as night fell, a considerable number of enemies would still assault their temporary base, infuriating them.

Although it was clear that the main water source connecting to the underground river was most likely at the bottom of the adjacent inner moat, the man-made waterway encircling the entire inner city was over five kilometers long. With the constant need to guard against enemy counterattacks, they simply didn’t have enough time to meticulously pinpoint the source’s exact location.

At the scar-faced leader’s signal, a boy of about fifteen or sixteen was pushed to the front of the group. He explained timidly, “Sir, my father… he used to be a dredger on the inner moat channel. During the dry seasons in winter and spring, the water level in the moat would drop significantly, and they would even jump right into the riverbed to clear out the water sources blocked by silt.”

Newman was overjoyed. He suddenly realized that the Commander’s order for all battalions to actively cooperate with the local resistance was an absolutely brilliant decision.

“Quick! Send a few of your men to take us to the waterway source immediately. If we can find a way to block it… at least the Blacksmith Street area will no longer be flooded with non-humans coming out of the water.”

The scar-faced leader nodded. “Sir, let me and this boy guide you!”

…

The Company directly under Newman’s command advanced toward the inner moat. Along the way, they encountered three or four sporadic attacks from Demonic Lizardmen remnant soldiers, but the battle-hardened soldiers crushed and repelled them effortlessly. It took them less than half an hour to reach their destination.

“This… this channel looks really deep!”

The scar-faced leader smiled wryly and nodded. “Sir, Rhino Horn City has abundant underground water sources. When the city was first built, there was no division between an inner and outer city. The City Lord at the time, to defend against incursions from other nobles, mobilized tens of thousands of laborers to dig and widen the moat day and night… which is why the channel is now so deep and wide. You have to dive down nearly ten meters just to touch the bottom.”

Water this deep… trying to block the source with just sand and gravel was clearly unrealistic. They would have to come up with another way to seal it completely.

“How wide is the diameter of this main source? If we brought in sand and stone, could we fill it up?”

Although Newman asked the question, he had already decided on a plan to destroy it with alchemical bombs… But first, he had to confirm the source’s exact coordinates, as well as details like the water current’s speed and the source’s diameter.

The boy leading the way thought for a moment, then shook his head uncertainly. “I’m afraid fine sand and stone would be washed away by the current as soon as you toss them in. Sir, I don’t really know the diameter… I’d probably have to dive down myself to get a clear look.”

Even with a weapon, diving into the water single-handedly was tantamount to suicide. This water source was the main channel for the Demonic Lizardmen to surface and land in this area. Even though the Northern Army had just swept the surroundings again, there was no guarantee that there weren’t enemies hiding in the channel right now.

At the very least, he couldn’t let this half-grown kid take such a risk…

Just as he was about to refuse, the scar-faced leader suddenly spoke up first. “Sir, if you plan to use that sky-shaking fire you’ve used in the city to destroy the water source… this boy and I are willing to go into the water to verify the demolition spot for you!”

He paused, then continued, practically through gritted teeth, “My parents, my wife, and my four children… and Little John’s family of eight… all of them were killed by these damn non-human monsters. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance for revenge. We will not let it pass!”

Chapter 771: Underwater Demolition

Rat-a-tat-tat—

The rapid bursts of repeating rifles echoed through the streets and alleys, startling two Winged ones perched high on the ruins of a building. They flapped their wings and took to the air, flying with extreme speed towards the inner moat.

Their actions quickly attracted the attention of their kin on the ground. Connected by the hive consciousness, ordinary Black Lizardmen soldiers followed suit, moving nimbly through the city ruins, gradually converging and swarming towards the target.

Newman watched as the enemy figures appearing at the street corner grew denser and denser, his previously relaxed brow slowly beginning to furrow.

“Battalion Commander? They’re all gathering!”

“Wait a little longer. We need to draw in as many active enemies from the surroundings as possible to create a long enough window for the Demolition Group to get in the water!”

In the small town square, on a simple defensive line hastily built by the soldiers using sand and broken bricks, several Magical Energy Machine Guns were steadily mounted. Their cold muzzles aimed at the enemies closing in from both ends of Blacksmith Street.

On the roofs of nearby, slightly taller buildings, a team of snipers also lay in ambush, spread out. Their mission wasn’t to deal with the ground enemies, but to guard against the Winged ones from the sky.

Without fire support from floating Airships and Beam Weapons, dealing with those “big bats” that came and went like the wind depended solely on these ace marksmen picking them off precisely.

Three hundred meters…

Two hundred meters…

One hundred meters!

Newman’s raised hand swung down sharply as he roared, “Fire!”

The dark muzzles of the Magical Energy Machine Guns instantly spat out searing muzzle flashes. A dense barrage of fire, like rain, enveloped the enemy, quickly clearing a blood-soaked vacuum in the narrow street.

Under the high-intensity, sustained fire, the machine guns could barely last through an entire ammunition belt before their red-hot barrels had to be immediately replaced with new parts. While the machine gunners deftly reloaded, the other soldiers raised their heads from behind upright steel shields and unleashed a fierce volley at the approaching enemy. The Winged ones diving down from the sky were also picked off by the snipers on the flanks.

These scattered enemies, who had been hiding in the city’s streets and alleys after being routed by long-range artillery and the airship unit at the beginning of the battle, posed no significant threat even when they regrouped. If not for the need to continuously draw their attention, the battalion headquarters unit led by Newman could have wiped them out with just a few concentrated volleys.

“Have the mobile squads make more noise nearby. Lure in the stragglers from further away… That’s the only way to be completely foolproof.”

The Magic Motorcycles, magical energy vehicles with excellent maneuverability and obstacle-crossing capabilities, were the Northern Army’s greatest mobility advantage operating within Rhino Horn City.

…

By an arched stone bridge on the bank of the inner moat, a small squad of soldiers dispersed, each finding suitable cover, gripping their weapons tightly and keeping a close watch on their surroundings.

In the archway beneath the stone bridge, two Bloodline Warriors were carrying a long coil of rope, whispering with the two local Resistance members who had guided them here.

“What I mean is, the boy shouldn’t go in the water. Just you leading the way is enough… We can follow you right to the location of the underground water source. The general location is already confirmed, anyway.”

The Resistance leader, who had a grim scar on his face, pondered for a moment, seemingly swayed. But the boy called Little John stubbornly shook his head and explained in a low voice, “Sirs, the situation in the moat is very complicated… So much trash that couldn’t be salvaged has piled up over the years. A few years ago, an entire carriage even fell into the river. With the water so murky, it’ll be difficult for you to pinpoint the exact location just by feel.”

Only the dredgers who’d worked on the moat for years were skilled at holding their breath and diving in the murky water.

With that, he pointed to the thick rope, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “You just need to tie the rope tightly around me. Uncle Meyer will follow me, and as soon as I find the water source, I can immediately help him place the alchemical bomb and the detonation device!”

This was the plan finalized after repeated discussions with Battalion Commander Newman. Rather than taking the risk of diving to confirm the location first, then returning to the bank for the explosives and diving again, it was more direct to find the opening of the underground water source and immediately plant the bomb to blast it shut.

This was also why two Bloodline Warriors were assigned to assist the leader, Meyer, and the boy, John. Although Newman and his soldiers were making a big enough commotion on Blacksmith Street, no one could guarantee that all the enemies in the water had been lured ashore. If they encountered any after entering the water, Meyer might be lucky enough to escape… but Little John would surely die.

Time was short, so excessive debate was pointless; the mission was the priority… Meyer and Little John would enter the water to place the alchemical bomb, while the two Bloodline Warriors on the bank would each take a role: one would operate the micro alchemical beast to carry out the detonation, and the other would manage the rope to rescue the two divers in an emergency.

With a slight ripple, the two figures with ropes tied around their waists slipped silently into the water.

The coil of rope on the bank gradually extended into the water. Suddenly, a Winged one appeared overhead, flying past with beating wings. A soldier on watch instinctively raised his rifle to shoot, but a Bloodline Warrior sharply raised a hand to stop him… The creature was clearly attracted by the battle erupting on Blacksmith Street. The wise choice was not to spook the target.

Half a minute later, two bubbles suddenly gurgled up to the surface of the murky river, and the rope stopped uncoiling.

“They found it so quickly?” one of the Bloodline Warriors whispered in pleasant surprise.

“I thought they’d have to come up for air a few times at least… Their swimming skills are too good.” The Bloodline Warriors relied on their formidable physical constitutions, and their ability to hold their breath was not to be underestimated, but they were far less skilled when it came to underwater swimming.

Another series of fine bubbles floated to the surface. The previously stationary rope suddenly trembled twice, then began sliding into the water as if being forcefully dragged by something.

“Not good! Could they have run into the Demonic Lizardmen?” The Bloodline Warrior reacted instantly. He took a step forward and stomped the rope firmly under his foot, then began pulling it back without a second thought. The sensation in his palm indicated… the other end of the rope was still tied to the divers, which made him sigh in relief.

Meanwhile, the alchemical beast control device held by the other man began to flash rapidly. This undoubtedly meant the controlled micro alchemical beast had reached the vicinity of the alchemical explosives and was on standby, ready to detonate!

“Wait! Give me twenty seconds!”

The Bloodline Warrior pulling the rope strained, the muscles in his arms bulging as he used all his strength to rapidly reel it in. He was just about to reach the end… when the rope in his hands suddenly went slack. The inertia of his pull caused him to stagger back half a step.

With a splash, a severed section of the rope floated to the surface. The cut was clean and smooth, as if sliced by some sharp weapon.

The warrior who had been pulling the rope gave his companion a meaningful look and, without the slightest hesitation, dove headfirst into the river.

He had dived less than half a meter when he felt Little John flailing desperately, trying to surface. The two immediately turned and swam back towards the bank.

“Where’s Meyer? The underground water source and the alchemical bomb…”

Before he could finish, Little John spat out the water he had choked on and gasped, “Sirs, detonate it, now! The water source is full of those non-human monsters!”

Chapter 772: Contacting the Resistance

A heavy, muffled thud echoed from the distance, instantly drawing the attention of the combat units in Blacksmith Street. Even the Demonic Lizardmen surrounding them seemed to notice something.

Battalion Commander Newman narrowed his eyes and listened intently for a moment, then let out a long breath and said with renewed spirits, “They’ve completed the detonation!”

He just didn’t know if they had successfully blocked the underground water source in the moat…

When the Northern Army fought the Demonic Lizardmen in the barren lands of the ice sea, the soldiers felt the enemy’s oppressive presence nearly shatter their resilient minds. Under the dual erosion of fear and extreme cold, everyone could only fire their weapons numbly, not daring to spare the mental energy to think about anything else.

But now, fighting in Isengard, although it was also a long-distance, cross-border military operation, the experience felt much better than before… They had grown accustomed to the sight of the enemy and no longer worried about death following them like a shadow.

Many low to mid-ranking officers like Newman were even able to adapt flexibly during combat and operations, carrying out more strategic tasks beneficial to the battle.

With the Demonic Lizardmen’s several charges effectively repelled, the battle in Blacksmith Street was gradually coming to an end.

The large number of enemies that had hastily gathered didn’t seem to have any Evolved ones like Red Lizardmen or Winged ones to command and guide them. When faced with concentrated machine gun fire, they didn’t hit the dirt to avoid the rain of ammunition as they had in the past…

This situation immediately made Newman realize that this was not a full-strength, organized combat unit. It was most likely cobbled together from scattered, routed soldiers after their main force had been broken.

It seemed their so-called hive-like main consciousness didn’t control every individual combatant as if it were one’s own arm. Different tiers of Evolved ones commanded the lower-ranking, ordinary soldiers, and if the information link in the middle was broken, the enemy would become like headless chickens, only able to blindly follow the most basic advance orders, without knowing how to fight cooperatively.

The firing intervals of the Magical Energy Machine Guns gradually lengthened. For this military operation in Rhino Horn City, the ammunition and supplies the battle group carried weren’t exactly abundant. There was no need to waste ammunition on these disorganized routed soldiers as if it were free. They only needed to wait until the enemy advanced to a certain distance before concentrating their fire to pick them off.

With sniper cover from the surrounding high ground, the battle lasted for nearly half an hour. Newman’s battalion headquarters didn’t suffer a single casualty. Only a few soldiers holding the very front of the line, who had carelessly exposed their bodies from behind cover while focused on the fight, were unlucky enough to be hit by a sneak attack from a crystalline spike from the air.

“Battalion Commander, the team at the moat has completed their mission and started retreating to the main base at the South Gate. Should we also…”

A soldier stooped over and ran to Newman’s side to report.

Newman looked up at the sky and saw that it was nearing dusk. It would be dark soon… Urban combat at night was not advantageous for humans. The soldiers’ accuracy would drop significantly after losing visibility, and the ruined buildings would make it easier for the enemy to hide and launch ambushes. It was unwise to linger near the underground waterway in the city.

“Concentrate fire and completely break their final assault… Afterward, we’ll conduct a fighting retreat. We’ll head to the temporary post three streets away first, then consider whether to return to the main base.”

…

The Resistance leader, Meyer, was strapped to someone’s back with a leather belt. Both his legs from the knees down were gone, with only tourniquets tied tightly around the upper parts of the severed limbs, which still couldn’t stop the gushing blood.

During the mission to blow up the moat and block the underground water source, when enemies suddenly swarmed out of the waterway at the last moment, he had decisively cut his safety rope and shoved the young boy, John, toward the surface… He himself had hugged the alchemical bomb and plunged into the water source.

Fortunately, in the chaos, the box of bombs fell squarely into the water source’s channel. He, however, was pushed back out while grappling with a Demonic Lizardman. The massive shockwave of the explosion then blasted him to the surface. His blood stained the once-murky river, immediately catching the attention of the people on the bank, who jumped into the water and pulled him up.

It was unclear whether his two legs were lost to the blast wave or were severed by a Demonic Lizardman during the underwater brawl. Due to massive blood loss, he had fallen into a deep coma, and only a very faint pulse could be detected.

A Bloodline Warrior made a quick decision and injected him with a New Life Potion, barely managing to stabilize his vital signs. Then, he immediately put Meyer on his back and ran toward the main base with the rest of the group.

Even carrying a full-grown man, a mid-rank Bloodline Warrior could run at the speed of a swift horse.

In less than an hour, they crossed a large stretch of ruins in the east of the city and arrived at the garrison base at the South Gate.

“Quick, quick! Get a doctor! There’s a critically injured person here who needs medical attention!”

Sandra, the director of military doctors, heard the news and rushed over with medics and a stretcher. Without another word, she had him carried into the Field Hospital.

“Did you give him a New Life Potion?”

The Bloodline Warrior nodded, saying blankly, “We couldn’t stop the bleeding. We had no choice…”

This small dose of the New Life Potion naturally couldn’t work miracles, let alone regenerate such severe severed limbs; it could barely even stop the bleeding from the wounds on his legs.

However, the potion could both nourish and mend flesh and sustain the collapsing soul of a dying person. An emergency injection could allow someone with one foot in the grave to hold on for quite a while longer.

After Meyer was rushed into the surgical tent, Commander Wayne also came over after hearing the news.

“I hear you brought back a leader of the local Resistance?”

“Battalion Commander… This man helped us blow up the underground waterway in Blacksmith Street at the East Gate. We successfully blocked a passage the Demonic Lizardmen were using to surface from underground!”

The subordinate responded while pulling over the young boy, John, who was shrinking to the side.

Wayne nodded and managed to soften his tone as he asked the boy, “How many Resistance members are currently operating in secret within Rhino Horn City?”

John shrugged fearfully and stammered, “I-I don’t know about other places, but in the area around Blacksmith Street and the East Gate, there are three teams… Uncle Meyer led us to make contact with them before, to trade for some food and medicine.”

“What are the specific numbers? Where do you usually hide? And what do you use to fight the non-human race?”

Seeing the cold expression on the tall, sturdy officer’s face, the boy grew even more frightened. “A-About a hundred people. The cellars in Blacksmith Street and Warehouse Street are interconnected. We use them to hide from the monsters’ searches. As long as we don’t go out at night, we usually aren’t found.”

He paused, swallowed, and continued, “Killing those heavily injured or lone non-human monsters… it’s… it’s all thanks to the magical weapons Uncle Meyer and the others have, but there aren’t many… and the magical ammunition is almost gone.”

The Northern Army officer who had sought them out today had given them five hundred rounds of magical ammunition and two sets of intricately designed alchemical sights. It was critically needed support.

Wayne slowly nodded and said in a low voice, “Your leader will receive proper medical treatment. But you need to lead our men and find a way to contact all the Resistance forces in the city. In these special times… I assume you natives won’t refuse to join hands and fight with us, will you?”

Chapter 773: The Main Direction of Attack

Wolf Fang Ridge border, command base of the Northern Army’s Eastern Defense Line.

The battle report from Wayne, who was leading his independent regiment in Rhino Horn City, had just been delivered into the hands of Deputy Commander-in-Chief Vaughn, who had newly arrived at the pass.

He immediately contacted Wayne via the Magic Net, reiterating His Majesty the Emperor’s directive to mobilize the local Plainsmen to assist in the fighting. The Plainsfolk militia who had migrated to St. Valen were still in the recruitment and training phase. Only by absorbing as many members of the Vengeance Resistance Army active in Isengard as possible could they truly resolve the immediate crisis of the Northern Army’s stalled campaign.

The Demonic Lizardmen’s military operations in the barren lands had met with repeated setbacks. After losing two high-rank Evolved ones in succession, they finally decided to shift their main direction of attack toward the Cavalry Kingdom. Taking advantage of the wide-open Great Rift of the Spine of the Gods Mountains, they sent a continuous stream of Floating Island fortresses to invade the south, causing nearly all of Isengard’s northern territories to fall.

Vaughn, as the army’s Deputy Commander-in-Chief, had been dispatched here by the Emperor and General Pierce to deal with the current grave situation.

The St. Valen Northern Army’s plan to push back the defensive line in the central grasslands had all but ground to a halt. Not only was Rhino Horn City locked in a prolonged seesaw battle, but Steelrock City, which had been completely occupied by the non-human race, also remained impregnable despite repeated assaults.

Several refugee reception points on the eastern front had suffered repeated enemy attacks. A few key supply lines had been forced to shut down, and the Fourth Independent Regiment, responsible for the northwestern sector, could only rely on transport Airships for resupply, forcing them to slow their previously rapid offensive.

This was a situation His Majesty the Emperor had long foreseen. Waging a war a thousand miles from home in a foreign land, if they could not cooperate and band together with local resistance forces, they would sooner or later find themselves bogged down as if in a quagmire, unable to advance.

Although the longer the war dragged on, the more development time it bought for the United Kingdom of St. Valen, which was continuously absorbing labor, a longer front line also meant that the consumption of troops, ammunition, and supplies would multiply.

Furthermore, two pieces of intelligence from the fallen territories, recently received by the capital, had forced Vaughn to personally rush to the Eastern Defense Line to solve this wartime predicament for the Emperor.

The first piece of news came quietly from Ironhill, Isengard’s capital, which had long since fallen and was the first to be reduced to ruins in the wave of the Demonic Lizardmen’s offensive. The “outsourced” intelligence department, the Stoneheart Hermits, who were already active in the fallen grasslands, had secretly snuck back into the city after the non-human race withdrew. There, they secretly discovered what might be traces of a giant Floating Island’s activity beneath Ironhill.

This piece of intelligence could be perfectly cross-referenced with the Abyssal Sea Chart provided by the Sea-folk. Beneath the capital of the Cavalry Kingdom, there was indeed a known, massive underground river. However, Sea-folk Ascendants had rarely ventured there in the past millennium, so their descriptions of the river were vague.

But its course highly coincided with the Shatlan River, the mother river of the grasslands on the surface. The sheer volume of the Shatlan’s rushing waters alone was enough to reveal the immense scale of this underground water system.

This also explained the reason for the sudden and vigorous increase in the Demonic Lizardmen’s military activity and troop deployment in the grasslands after the eastern advance was officially launched. With several Floating Island fortresses rooted in the central and northern grasslands, their speed and efficiency in transporting troops from the barren lands and the ice sea had increased dramatically.

The second piece of intelligence, however, was a major headache for Vaughn.

In Isengard’s southeastern border region, around Burning Wind Fortress and Thorn City, several small mountain kingdoms wedged between the Cavalry Kingdom and the territory of the Cave Dwarves had taken advantage of the chaos caused by the non-human invasion of the northern grasslands. Disregarding the pact of mutual aid that fellow Humans should uphold, they sent troops into Isengard’s territory, plundering towns and cities along the border, and even robbing innocent civilians fleeing south of their property.

Among them, many noble lords, incited by slave traders, openly set up checkpoints to abduct the populace. This caused the situation in the southeastern grasslands to deteriorate to the point where it was no different from the non-human occupied territories in the north.

For St. Valen, these two pieces of intelligence were a two-pronged blow. The Demonic Lizardmen’s rapid reinforcement was one thing, but Isengard’s neighbors jumping out to make trouble was another.

Early in the war, the Kingdom’s high command had considered the possibility that these small nations might stand by and do nothing, but they never expected these small duchies and earldoms to ignore the great threat of the non-human race and instead add fuel to the fire of an already tense situation.

The greed and foolishness of the feudal noble royalties, as well as their conservative and short-sighted military strategy, were on full display.

In His Majesty’s words, the work of receiving the grassland refugees was now gradually coming to an end. While ensuring the stability of the Eastern Defense Line, it was time to free up their hands and deal with these “fellow Humans” who were making trouble behind their backs.

Upon arriving at the Wolf Fang Ridge border, Vaughn not only brought the Seventh Independent Regiment, which had just been rotated back from the barren lands front, but he also used the railway, now extended to the eastern part of the Kingdom, to transport brand-new armored artillery vehicles developed by the capital’s munitions factory.

There were a full one hundred and fifty of them, accounting for almost half of the first batch of three hundred and fifty to roll off the production line.

These armored artillery vehicles were completely different from ordinary military alchemical wheeled vehicles. Although they looked like identical, square iron boxes, their entire bodies were protected by welded steel plates coated with optical camouflage. Even the six pairs of wheels at the bottom were specially covered by steel plates on their sides.

The vehicle’s wheels were equipped with easily replaceable metal tracks, making them adaptable to both grassland and desert terrain. The wide-angle self-propelled cannon mounted on top served as the vehicle’s main source of firepower.

In addition, the vehicle’s two flanks were each equipped with two Magical Energy Machine Guns. Arc-shaped firing ports allowed the machine guns to adjust to any firing angle, providing covering fire against enemies from the ground and air.

Vaughn had heard that the Alchemy Laboratory had originally planned to add Beam Weapons, which would have made this armored vehicle a truly invincible war machine with no weaknesses, proficient in both offense and defense, but they ultimately had to abandon the idea because it exceeded the weight limit.

But even with its current configuration, it could be called a terrifying war machine armed to the teeth.

The first time Vaughn saw it at the capital’s munitions factory, he had already imagined soldiers driving it into enemy ranks, slaughtering them indiscriminately.

The cannon mounted on the roof was responsible for bombarding concentrated enemy charges. Its standard firing range of eight hundred to twelve hundred meters was perfect for combat on plains. By alternating between bursting shells and solid shot, it could inflict area damage on moving enemy targets and quickly clear fixed obstacles blocking its path. It wouldn’t be hindered even in an urban street fight.

The Magical Energy Machine Guns on the sides mainly provided flank protection. With sufficient ammunition, any enemy entering a five-hundred-meter range would be torn to shreds, providing what could be called active defense with no blind spots.

The capital’s munitions factory had initially rushed to develop it for use in the battles on the ice sea front. But the enemy’s ferocious surprise attack came first, leaving them no time to produce enough to deploy on the battlefield.

Having missed the important military operation on the ice sea front, they instead ramped up production at full capacity. By the time the offensive on the Eastern Defense Line had stalled, they had amassed a stock of nearly four hundred units—more than enough for Vaughn to distribute among the three independent regiments currently fighting on the grassland front.

Chapter 774: Joint Operations

The United Kingdom of St. Valen, the capital, Starfire City.

The small conference room within the Imperial Palace was lit throughout the night.

Harvey sat at the head of the long table, pondering for a long while before finally speaking, interrupting the others’ quiet discussion. “The current situation is indeed not optimistic. It seems the Demonic Lizardmen truly intend to make Isengard their main offensive route for invading the south.”

Although this meant the capital, isolated in the Northern Realm, would not have to worry about the enemy at its gates, they would also lose the vast strategic depth of nearly a thousand kilometers of the barren lands’ interior. While Isengard’s territory was immense, it was still far smaller than the Northern Barren Lands.

If the Demonic Lizardmen were willing to commit enough Winged ones, they could even launch aerial raids from Ironhill, the capital of the Cavalry Kingdom, directly toward St. Valen’s eastern border.

This would inevitably go against Harvey’s original intention of not allowing the fires of war to spread within his Kingdom’s borders. It would also cause the Northern Army, which claimed to be undefeated in a hundred battles, to lose face and suffer a severe blow to its morale. It was a scenario that absolutely could not be allowed to happen, no matter how one looked at it.

“Your Majesty, we need to commit more aerial units. Therefore, all members of the Mage Corps must be mobilized. Except for our colleagues who need to garrison the barren lands front, everyone else should immediately head to the Eastern Defense Line.”

Spellshield was the first to rise and speak. His words naturally represented the thoughts of the two Legendary Chiefs who were unwilling to involve themselves in politics, serving as advice relayed to the Emperor through an intermediary.

Harvey nodded, his expression calm. “The deployment of the Mage Corps will be decided by the Ministry of Defense and the General Staff. Just continue with the rotation system…”

The great war between the extraordinary beings of the two races on the ice sea front had inflicted heavy losses on the Mage Corps, with even two high-rank members falling in battle. Yet, no dissent arose within the newly established New Federation. Instead, its members grew more united and shared a common hatred for the enemy… In just a few short months, the number of Spellcasters from all over the south who came to join them had surged. Among them were not only battle mages who had privately defected from the old Federation but even noble Mages who had come from the seven wizard kingdoms, drawn by their reputation. From Blackstone City in the Evil Moon Mountain Range, where the flames of war had long since been extinguished, many independent Spellcasters had also used their connections with Chief Gallagher to travel thousands of kilometers to the capital.

The complete victories in several major and minor battles had also made these once-arrogant Spellcasters begin to realize that working in concert with mortal soldiers, who wielded equally powerful weapons, was the best option for resolving this crisis of extinction.

At this point in the discussion, Harvey suddenly remembered two pieces of intelligence that had come from Isengard. He turned to Astaren and asked, “Do we have any new information from the Stoneheart Hermits’ intelligence personnel in the occupied territories?”

Astaren unhurriedly pulled a stack of documents from his coat and said gravely, “Your Majesty, if I may be blunt… intelligence transmissions from the occupied territories are often… a one-time affair.”

As soon as he spoke, a brief silence fell over the conference hall.

The chief advisor’s meaning was clear: an undercover officer operating in “enemy-occupied territory” could basically only transmit a single piece of confirmed valuable intelligence before they were likely discovered and brutally killed by the non-human race. Every mission they undertook was equivalent to clearing a path for the Northern Army with their very lives.

Although he was well aware that most of these Hermit Order members were fanatical Devil worshippers, and that their selfless service to the army stemmed mostly from their faith and the suggestive prodding of Mr. Mind Devil, they were still living beings sacrificing themselves for the cause of all humanity. One couldn’t help but feel a sense of sorrow.

“Then have Elder Hughes return to Highland City as soon as possible. He is the Intelligence Chief for the Eastern Defense Line, after all. He cannot disregard his own safety and continue taking risks in the frontline areas.”

Astaren paused, then said somberly, “Your Majesty, Elder Hughes holds the highest authority for intelligence operations—a right you personally granted him. I’m afraid he will not be willing to obey an order to leave the occupied territories… But please rest assured, we have already escorted all the family members and relatives of the Hermit Order’s high-level and core members to our country. They have been properly settled in places like Grizzly Keep and Fengyuan City, and their welfare and benefits are all very generous.”

“In that case, let Hughes make his own arrangements…” Harvey sighed and waved his hand, no longer dwelling on the matter.

The moment he finished speaking, Pierce, who had been bottling up a great deal, could no longer hold back and rose to his feet. “Your Majesty, regarding the intelligence from the Hermit Order about the small nations on Isengard’s southeastern border causing disturbances, I believe we must prioritize resolving this!”

Harvey chuckled. This fellow had often heard him muttering things like “deal with internal threats before facing external ones,” and it seemed he had fully grasped the essence of the phrase.

“Just dispatch an Airship fleet to wipe out that ragtag mob. Why does this even need to be discussed at the table?” Son of Flame took a sip of his tea, seemingly unconcerned.

Harvey thought for a moment before turning to ask Astaren, “What’s the specific situation on Isengard’s southeastern border right now?”

“It’s a chaotic mess…” The chief advisor spread his hands in a very human gesture. “The Duchy of Ladon, the Nosia Independent City-State, and the Earldom of Yegritz, all wedged between Isengard and the Cave Dwarves’ kingdom, have sent troops across the border to pillage… Their main targets are the gold mines around Burning Wind Fortress and Thorn City. The private soldiers of various minor feudal lords and nobles also take the opportunity to rob the people fleeing south. It’s not uncommon for slave traders to fish in troubled waters and abduct people.”

Spellshield was astonished. “What about the feudal lords in southeastern Isengard? Are they just sitting back and watching? Our Eastern Defense Line is holding back the Demonic Lizardmen, so they haven’t been invaded by the non-human race. Surely they haven’t all packed up their families and fled to other countries, have they?”

“Burning Wind Fortress and Thorn City have likely reached some sort of agreement with the neighboring small countries and have not interfered… As for the other nobles… hehe, since the fall of Ironhill, several major nobles in the southeastern grasslands have all declared their intention to enthrone the late King Heracles’s illegitimate son. Right now, they’re too busy fighting each other to care about the people fleeing south being pillaged.”

Only then did Son of Flame realize how absurd the situation was. He couldn’t help but say resentfully, “What a bunch of short-sighted, idiotic pigs!”

Harvey then vaguely recalled that Baron Ramirez of Burning Wind Fortress had personally written him a letter, requesting St. Valen’s acquiescence to his move to enthrone a new king. In return, he had proactively promised that once it was done… he would be willing to cede two-thirds of Isengard’s northwestern territory, presenting it all to His Majesty the Emperor of St. Valen as a compensatory gift for his help in resisting the non-human race invasion.

At the time, Harvey had been preoccupied with planning the military operations on the ice sea front and hadn’t gotten around to dealing with him at all.

“It seems that even with the enemy’s butcher knife hanging over their heads, these nobles can’t forget about their power struggles and infighting…”

Harvey rubbed his hands together and finally made his decision.

“Inform Vaughn, commander of the Eastern Defense Line. Have him dispatch troops to the southeastern grasslands as soon as possible to annihilate all the invading foreign nobles. Then, in my name, compel the lords of Burning Wind Fortress and Thorn City to shelter and aid the southbound refugees and await our people’s arrival to receive them.”

Chapter 775: Returning Home

The sky had just begun to lighten when Jacob shot up from his comfortable bed.

He habitually reached out and pulled open the curtains of his small room, immediately seeing the street outside where people, scattered here and there, were already heading to work in groups, some on foot, others on bicycles.

It had been nearly two months since they moved to the capital, Starfire City, but Jacob still felt that the city was full of fascinating things to explore. Even the daily, routine trip between home and school, along a path whose scenery he was already familiar with, left him captivated.

His uncle was right. This was the new life they had always dreamed of!

Pushing open the door to his small bedroom, he found the living room beyond already filled with the faint, wheaty aroma of pancakes. The apartment, assigned by the transport team, was a one-bedroom unit of less than twenty square meters, with a cramped bedroom, a living room, and a washroom, all squeezed into a very compact layout.

Since they didn’t have a proper kitchen, the cost of eating out every day was considerable. At the enthusiastic suggestion of a colleague, Wood had used his advance salary to buy a simple, smokeless magical energy stove at the Public Market. He’d placed it on the dining table by the window in the living room, allowing the uncle and nephew to cook all sorts of delicious meals for breakfast and dinner.

“You’re up? Breakfast is almost ready. It’s corn pancakes with cheese today…” Wood skillfully tossed the pan, then paused in thought for a moment before taking an egg from the cupboard. He chuckled. “Young Jacob’s studies are demanding, so we’ll add an extra egg.”

Looking at his uncle’s smiling, wrinkled face, Jacob felt a warmth in his heart. He couldn’t help but protest, “Uncle, you don’t have to make such a big breakfast. The school provides a free lunch… If you make me this full, I won’t have an appetite by noon.”

Wood chuckled, carried the plate back to the table, and motioned for his nephew to sit down.

Jacob had just picked up his knife and fork when he turned and saw a thick stack of newspapers on the table. Tucked inside was a letter that had already been opened.

“Someone wrote to you, Uncle?” Jacob was surprised. He and Wood had traveled all the way from Isengard. All their close blood relatives had tragically perished in the disaster of the non-human invasion. They were essentially all alone in the world.

“Mr. Holmes from Grizzly Keep. You’ve met him…” Wood’s eating paused for a moment. He feigned composure and muttered, “We worked together for a while on the Wolf Fang Ridge border. He’s just writing to ask how we’re doing.”

Jacob nodded blankly. His eyes subconsciously glanced at the front page of the newspaper holding the envelope, where a conspicuous notice was printed: the military was recruiting dedicated wheeled vehicle drivers to return to Isengard and reinforce the eastern front.

“Uncle! Mr. Holmes’s letter… it’s not asking you to enlist as a military driver with him again, is it?” The boy practically shot up from his chair. “We’ve only just settled down in the capital. You said our lives would keep getting better…”

His thoughts exposed, Wood gave a bitter smile. “I haven’t agreed yet… I’m still thinking about it!”

He paused, prodding the fluffy corn pancake on his plate with his fork, and stammered, “Mr. Holmes’s only son is also studying at the capital’s public academy. I think he’s a year ahead of you. He… he’s been trying to find a way to get his son into the capital’s Spellcaster Academy for advanced studies.”

Holmes was a native of Grizzly Keep and didn’t have official residency in the capital. For his child to stand out at the public academy and be selected as a magic apprentice with spellcasting talent, exceptional ability alone wasn’t enough. A special recommendation from the government or the military was a good shortcut. Besides, exchanging one’s meritorious contributions for their descendant’s future was highly encouraged within the Kingdom and not considered unfair.

Jacob said urgently, “But Uncle, I don’t need that spot! Whether I choose to become a Spellcaster in the future or not, I don’t want it to be an opportunity you risked your life to get for me.”

As he spoke, the boy’s eyes grew red, and his voice started to choke up.

But Wood put down his knife and fork, turned his head to gaze out the window, and let out a long sigh. “Young Jacob, when we fled from our home all the way to the border, I first thought that as long as I got you into St. Valen, you’d be completely safe. Then a huge opportunity fell into our laps. Just by serving the army, we could both move to the capital. Right now, St. Valen’s capital is the safest place in the south.”

He paused, then turned back, his gaze burning as he looked at the boy. “Now that you’re settled here, I have nothing left to worry about. Next… next, I should do what my heart desires most, something I could never have done in the past.”

Jacob froze for a moment, then asked in a low voice, “Uncle, what is it you desire to do?”

“Revenge… Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?” Wood forced a smile and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “Your uncle used to be called a coward. Forget facing those terrifying non-human monsters; even a few harsh words from the noble lords would scare me out of my wits.”

“But your grandparents, your father and mother, my wife… and my unborn child… they… they all died at the hands of those monsters. Thank God I managed to save you!”

The more Wood spoke, the more agitated he became, his arms and body trembling slightly. “I know I don’t have the skill to pick up a weapon and fight them… But aren’t there people on the front lines fighting the enemy for us right now? If I can drive a wheeled vehicle to transport supplies and ammunition for them, wouldn’t that count as contributing to the extermination of those monsters?”

“That way, it’s like I’m avenging our family…” Wood’s voice grew more and more certain.

“That’s right. So I’ve decided to enlist as a military wheeled vehicle driver again, to return to the grasslands and contribute to the war against the non-human races!”

…

The capital’s Military Barracks, Spark Spec Ops squad training base.

“What? We’ve got orders from above to head to the eastern front? To reinforce the fight against the Demonic Lizardmen in central Isengard?”

Hearing the news, Sai Ke practically leaped off his cot. Overjoyed and shocked, he grabbed Gregor’s shoulders and shook them repeatedly, asking again and again to confirm if it was true.

“Stop shaking me, stop! It’s true! The military’s orders have already reached the Instructor. We just have to pack up and assemble. We could be leaving at any moment!”

Santas, shirtless, sat on the edge of his bed, scratching uncomfortably at the snake scales on his arm. He grumbled, “So soon? I thought we’d have a bit more time off. I was hoping to go to the General Medical Hospital for a couple more check-ups…”

Bale flexed his powerful arms, clapped Santas heavily on the shoulder, and laughed. “Don’t fight it. What’s a few scales on your arm? After two courses of the New Life Potion, I sneezed sparks this morning when I woke up. Almost set my bed on fire!”

Compared to the enhancement the New Life Potion gave their physical bodies and soul strength, such a minor Side Effect was completely negligible.

Sai Ke calmed himself, looked at Bale, and murmured, “We can finally return to the grasslands, back to the oasis… We can finally avenge our fallen kinsmen, truly, on the soil of our home.”

Chapter 776: The Beacon Fires of the Front Lines

The sun set in the west as a vast formation of airships slowly descended on the Wolf Fang Ridge border, at the Northern Army’s Eastern Defense Line Command Base.

Deputy Commander-in-Chief Vaughn personally went to the airship landing field to welcome everyone.

Fell Hoden, commander of the Aerial Combat Mage Independent Regiment; Wayne, commander of the Army’s Second Independent Regiment; Callum, commander of the Fourth Independent Regiment; Andre Weiss, Marshal of the Mage Corps; and dozens of high-rank spellcasters had all arrived. Even the General Staff had dispatched a large number of staff officers, led by His Majesty the Emperor’s Chief Administrative Advisor, Astaren. Everyone gathered at the border base’s combat command center.

“Everyone, the situation on the Eastern Defense Line is currently grim.”

Inside the central command center, Vaughn stood in the middle, before a long table holding a sand table, pointing at the gridded regional combat map before him. “We urgently need to take action to break the current stalemate!”

In fact, long before their departure, Vaughn had already conducted multiple simulations of the frontline situation with His Majesty the Emperor and General Pierce.

The conclusion was always the same: the Demonic Lizardmen, who had now occupied more than half of Isengard’s territory, had in turn gained vast strategic depth. The underground rivers of the abyss running through the grasslands allowed their Floating Island fortresses to surface and land in any area, rapidly deploying troops to key locations.

And for the Northern Army to try and pull together a complete horizontal defensive line as they had in the past, pushing back north step by step… it was now very difficult to achieve their intended objectives. The main combat forces on all three offensive fronts, from west to east, were completely blocked. The battles at Sinking Mulberry Valley, Rhino Horn City, and Steelrock City had reached a stalemate. The enemy and our forces were almost evenly matched, and the longer it dragged on, the more disadvantageous the situation would become for humanity.

“According to intelligence, the enemy is still continuously reinforcing these three locations using their Floating Islands.” Vaughn pointed to the areas on the sand table marked with small red flags. “They don’t seem to be in a hurry to commit all their forces for a decisive battle in any one location. Instead, they seem to prefer maintaining the stalemate to wear down humanity’s effective combat strength.”

Andre Weiss, Marshal of the Mage Corps, pondered for a moment before speaking up: “Could we concentrate our forces on a single strategic point to break the stalemate? This would surely attract the attention of the enemy’s main force… thereby forcing them to gather and engage us in a decisive battle.”

Wayne, who had just returned from Rhino Horn City, frowned and shook his head. “The enemy doesn’t easily reveal the location of their Floating Island fortresses. In a place like Rhino Horn City, they even just hover in the underground river of the abyss beneath the city, continuously sending soldiers to surface and land. The enemies throughout the city are as difficult to completely eliminate as cockroaches.”

Unless they did what they did when attacking the Holy City Goris—using a massive concentration of heavy cannon fire and employing saturation bombing to plow through the entire city and seal all the entrances to the underground waterways—the Northern Army would have no choice but to continue fighting them in the rubble of the streets and alleys.

Vaughn raised a hand and pointed to Steelrock City, located in the center of the map. “This is a city we must take. If our intelligence is reliable and the Demonic Lizardmen’s Main Keep Floating Island is truly located beneath Ironhill, then Steelrock City will be the closest strategic point, suitable for both offense and defense!”

“Sand Gold Town cannot be lost either,” Battalion Commander Callum added. “Right now, our other transport routes are blocked, and we’re relying on this place to open a new supply artery. At least forty percent of the strategic supplies for the front lines are being transshipped through Sand Gold Town. If this place is also harassed and captured by the enemy, the front lines will likely face the immediate danger of a supply shortage.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the others instantly frowned.

Indeed, the Northern Army’s lines on the grasslands were stretched far too thin. Every supply route they opened had to handle both the transport of supplies and the evacuation of refugees. It was hard to avoid attracting the enemy’s attention, and they repeatedly sent the Winged ones to harass the routes.

Astaren, who had remained silent until now, spoke up softly, “Everyone, there’s no need to be anxious just yet… When it comes to overextended lines, I’m afraid the Demonic Lizardmen are in the same situation as us.”

With that, he pointed to the black lines on the sand table representing the underground rivers of the abyss. “From the center of the grasslands southward, the passages of the underground river system become narrower. This means there are fewer routes available for large Floating Islands to travel submerged… Why don’t we choose to break through from a location that is difficult for the Floating Islands to reach, and in turn, force them into a long and exhausting pursuit?”

A location difficult for the Floating Islands to reach… where on the entire Eastern Defense Line was there such a place?

Everyone’s gaze was fixed on the sand table, on the pushback defensive line the Northern Army had constructed, stretching from west to east across the central grasslands.

“Wind-Eroded Ridge… if we strictly follow the Abyssal Sea Chart, only the area around Wind-Eroded Ridge on the pushback line has no tributaries of the underground river. The ground in this area is full of metallic ore deposits, and the Isengardians built many mines there.”

Although it was located in the southeastern corner of the entire defensive line, Wind-Eroded Ridge was still only a little over one hundred fifty kilometers from Isengard’s capital, Ironhill. A lightning strike by the Northern Army’s mobile units would take most of a day.

In the end, it was Vaughn, the one most familiar with the eastern theater, who first saw the key to breaking the stalemate. “This place is in southeastern Isengard and hasn’t been heavily harassed by the Demonic Lizardmen before. Instead, the local nobles are endlessly feuding, seemingly unconcerned about the imminent disaster of a non-human invasion.”

The Son of Flame nodded. “This is the chaos on Isengard’s southeastern border that His Majesty ordered us to resolve as quickly as possible. I suggest we immediately dispatch troops to occupy Wind-Eroded Ridge, and then free up our hands to deal with Burning Wind Fortress and Thorn City, to prevent them from causing trouble behind our backs while we’re fighting on the front.”

Vaughn nodded. “One of my reserve battle groups was already dispatched to southeastern Isengard several days ago. We will assign four battalions, a total of two thousand men, to occupy Wind-Eroded Ridge and construct permanent fortifications on site. The remaining two battalions will turn back to the rear border region to deal with the chaos created by the local nobles and neighboring lords.”

He paused, his gaze turning to Andre Weiss and the Son of Flame, and continued in a deep voice, “Your Excellencies will need to divide the Mage Corps. On one hand, continue to reinforce the other three cities on the pushback line. On the other, detach at least two integrated aerial formations to head to Wind-Eroded Ridge to coordinate with the ground forces’ corresponding operational plan.”

When everyone had more or less finished their discussion, Astaren clapped his hands again and delivered the concluding remarks: “The key to the success of this entire plan lies in confirming whether the enemy’s Main Keep Floating Island is truly at Ironhill… and I have personally come to the front for this very reason. The Staff Department and the Intelligence Department will do their utmost to verify this information. Once the target is confirmed, we can launch a surprise attack on Ironhill in an instant!”

Once they threatened the Demonic Lizardmen’s Main Keep Floating Island, they could immediately force the enemy to concentrate its forces and engage in a decisive battle at a location of humanity’s own choosing!

Chapter 777: Chaos in the Southeast

“Achoo! Cough, cough—”

The canvas-covered military wheeled vehicle was drafty on all sides. Sitting inside, Hick couldn’t help but sneeze several times in a row. When he opened his mouth, he got a bellyful of cold air, which sent him into a coughing fit.

A comrade sitting close by quickly handed him a water flask, smiling. “Just got some warm water at the last transport station. Quick, have a couple of sips to soothe it.”

“Thanks, brother…” Hick waved his hand and peered out through a gap in the canvas, noticing that a vast, thick white fog had appeared on the boundless grasslands at some point.

“That’s how it is in Isengard. After autumn begins, the temperature drops sharply in the morning and evening. Southerners like you probably aren’t used to it,” a soldier born in the border region explained. “In previous years, these Plainsmen would have already driven their herds of cattle and sheep south to prepare for winter.”

But now, forget cattle and sheep; even their own lives were under constant threat from the blades of the non-human races.

This new independent regiment, heading for southeastern Isengard, was composed of at least one-third troops from the Defense Force. After His Majesty the Emperor delivered a national speech encouraging recruitment, a fervent atmosphere swept through the Garrison Corps across the Kingdom. A large number of Defense Force soldiers who met the recruitment requirements volunteered to fight, and several mixed independent regiments were quickly formed.

New immigrants like Hick were naturally among them… While a position in the Defense Force offered good pay and daily tasks were mostly safe, he always felt something was missing in his life. Perhaps it was the ideals and ambitions his teacher at night school repeatedly mentioned, or perhaps it was the sense that he too had a duty to make an effort to protect his home.

“In a little while, the farms outside the capital will be ready for harvest…”

What a pity he wouldn’t be able to enjoy the magnificent sight of the bountiful harvest from the city walls this year.

…

Crack—

A whip cut a phantom arc through the air before lashing viciously across a man’s bony back, tearing a gash in his already tattered clothes. Dark red blood instantly seeped from the edges of the torn fabric.

“You bastards! Move it, faster! If we don’t reach Burning Wind Fortress by nightfall, I’ll tie you all to the back of my horse and drag you!”

The man who had been whipped instantly recalled the mangled, bloody pulp of a figure he had seen being dragged behind a horse not long ago. He couldn’t help but shudder… Forcing himself to ignore the throbbing pain from his wound, he scrambled up from the ground and stumbled forward.

A fully armored knight rode over and said in a low voice to the noble holding the whip, “My lord Baron, Glow-grass Town is ahead. Should we stop for a bit to rest and resupply before setting off again?”

“Hmm, we can stop for a short while. Let the horses drink.”

Although they had been herding this newly captured batch of slaves back since early morning, Burning Wind Fortress, located at the border pass, was still dozens of kilometers away. If they didn’t rest at all along the way… it wouldn’t be so bad if some slaves were worked to death, but the knights’ carefully bred warhorses couldn’t be exhausted.

Baron Kent had obtained permission from the Grand Duke of the Duchy of Ladon to lead his three hundred elite cavalry across the border into Isengard, which was beset by internal and external troubles. This was already a considerable risk… If he suffered additional losses along the way, it would not be worth the cost.

The profits from a single cross-border raid to capture people were not actually that substantial… The only ones in the entire southeast willing to pay for slaves were mostly the Cave Dwarves of the Breath of the Hills mine, or the coastal city-states of the Southern Seas. The cost of long-distance transportation would gradually dilute the once-handsome profits of the slave trade.

Only by cooperating with the local noble lords, and with their support and tacit approval, could he establish a mature human trafficking route, continuously abducting refugees from war-torn Northern Isengard out of the country. Only then could it be considered a truly lucrative business.

Fortunately, Baron Ramirez of Burning Wind Fortress shared his views on the matter. After giving up forty percent of the trade profits, Burning Wind Fortress, situated at a strategic pass, naturally became Baron Kent’s border transit station for trafficking people.

Under the Baron’s command, a troop of cavalry herded the slaves, who were roped together, and soon arrived at Glow-grass Town at the foot of the hill.

From a great distance, they could see a few scattered tents pitched on the open ground outside the town. Many people were moving about, seemingly busy setting up pots to cook.

“Huh? Isn’t Glow-grass Town abandoned? Which local noble’s private soldiers are passing through…”

Baron Kent raised a hand to halt the column and dispatched a few knights to scout out the other party’s origins. It wasn’t long before his men returned with a report.

“Baron, they claim to be the remnants of a noble’s private army, defeated by the non-human races in the north. They fled south and ended up here. There are about five to six hundred of them, with no nobles or knights among them.”

All commoner mercenaries?

Baron Kent narrowed his eyes and pressed, “They have no horses or armor? What about their weapons? Do they have any bows or crossbows?”

The attendant knight shook his head. “None of that. They’re just wearing uniform-colored cotton clothes, and each carries only a short metal spear on his back. The craftsmanship of the spears, however, is quite exquisite.”

They are very likely the private soldiers of some great noble from the fallen Steelrock City!

The Baron’s heart skipped a beat. Although they were routed soldiers, their quality was clearly far superior to that of starving refugees. If he could recruit them into his own forces, it would be a tremendous boost… but if they refused to submit, they wouldn’t be able to withstand a single cavalry charge. At worst, he could just shackle them all and sell them off to the south. They would fetch a much higher price than ordinary slaves!

“Leave a few men to guard the slaves. The rest of you, with me… we’ll launch a surprise attack on their camp outside the town. First, we’ll scatter their formation, then we’ll try to capture the fleeing ones with lassos!”

Seeing the Baron intended to use brute force, the cavalry’s spirits lifted. They grinned ferociously and roared in unison, “Yes, my lord!”

The sight of several hundred knights charging in formation was breathtaking, like a raging torrent surging down the hill in an instant.

Baron Kent, at the very front of the charge, had just drawn the longsword from his waist. He was about to raise his arm and let out one last roar before clashing, when he saw the “private soldiers” ahead suddenly form up rapidly. Some knelt, some stood, and they all drew the short metal spears from their backs, leveling them straight ahead, aimed squarely at him.

Bang—

A volley of dense gunfire erupted, startling flocks of birds perched on branches and rooftops in the abandoned town into flight.

…

Battalion Commander Chiron holstered his long rifle and strode onto the battlefield, where his men were cleaning up.

“I didn’t expect that by lying in wait next to this abandoned town, we’d actually catch so many nobles from the neighboring duchy preying on refugees.”

His adjutant handed a beautifully crafted side sword, inlaid with numerous jewels, to Chiron. With a look of disgust, he added, “The Battalion Commander was right. Instead of blindly chasing these bastards who roam around looting like wild dogs, it’s better to guard the route they must take to go south.”

This is also a strategy His Majesty often talks about, one of using stillness to counter movement… I think it’s called “to lie in wait for the perfect opportunity.”

Chapter 778: Lying in Wait for the Perfect Opportunity

Given the Northern Army’s current combat strength, dealing with the noble factions among the Humans simply required them to go by the book and steamroll their way through with superior firepower.

However, considering the high percentage of new recruits in the newly formed independent regiment who had never seen actual combat, Commander Vaughn decided to employ some tactical arrangements. This would allow the soldiers to gain sufficient experience in battle while also helping the various combat units develop a degree of rapport.

The target he planned to use for this training exercise was, naturally, Wind-Eroded Ridge, a place rich in metal ore deposits. Nearly all the feudal lords in the southeastern territories of Isengard had some stake in the mining industry there. The region was dotted with dozens of mines, large and small, guarded by nearly a thousand private soldiers, and an even larger number of hired laborers and mine slaves toiled in the pits day in and day out.

Although news of the non-human invasion from the north and the complete fall of the capital had prompted many noble mine owners who got wind of it to temporarily shut down their operations, the enemy rarely ventured into this area. The region’s unique geography meant there were few underground river systems deep within the earth’s crust for the Demonic Lizardmen to use for submerged travel. As a result, the entire Mining Area had remained almost completely unscathed.

Therefore, to ensure their profits from the mines did not cease, several mines were still in operation to this day, relying on their numerous Ore Guards to maintain control of the situation.

Hiding a large military force on the vast, flat grasslands was no easy task.

Every soldier in Hick’s battalion headquarters had been issued a standard optical camouflage cloak. Even their standard-issue Magical Energy Guns were carefully wrapped in a layer of camouflage.

Their orders were to lie in ambush near a major mountain pass that served as a main route out of Wind-Eroded Ridge. Once the main attacking force launched its assault, their job was to intercept any remnant enemy soldiers who fled from the chaos.

To avoid spooking their target, they hadn’t even used military vehicles. Instead, they had marched on foot through the wilderness from a temporary camp more than five kilometers away, successfully completing a grueling field march before the battle began.

“Are those guys… really going to run toward our ambush?” whispered a comrade lying next to Hick, quietly raising his head.

Hick frowned and whispered back, “This is the only road south. If they don’t want to flee north and run straight into the Demonic Lizardmen, they should come this way…”

What truly worried him was the possibility that those damned private soldiers of the nobles might use innocent civilians as shields while they escaped.

Although he had never experienced a real battle, Hick had served in the capital’s Defense Force for a long time. He understood the soldier’s creed: orders must be strictly obeyed and commands followed without question.

If his Sir ordered him to open fire, he would likely pull the trigger without hesitation, even if he were facing unarmed commoners.

With things as they were, Hick could only pray silently that such a tragedy would not occur.

Time ticked by, second by second, until the first artillery shot finally rang out from the distant mountains.

The sharp whistle of the shell arced across the sky, its faint echo reverberating, and then a massive fireball erupted from a cluster of mine buildings down below.

The operation to clear out the mine had officially begun.

After several continuous rounds of shelling, a flood of people poured out of the mine, which had been thrown into utter chaos. Those in ragged clothes, scrambling and stumbling as they fled in all directions, were clearly the hired laborers and mine slaves. Once they were out of the mine, they were beyond the range of the artillery.

Those who remained within the Mining Area, frantically trying to assemble their troops or searching in panic for the source of the attack, were naturally the Ore Guard under the command of the noble mine owners. Among them were many cavalrymen who quickly vaulted onto their horses. Their combat experience was clearly superior to that of ordinary mercenaries, and they soon spotted the artillery unit positioned on a hill high above the mine.

Unfortunately, their low-lying position made it difficult to charge the enemy on the high ground. Although the Ore Guard managed to gather over a hundred cavalrymen, they still couldn’t organize an effective counterattack. The shelling had temporarily stopped, but the mine remained a scene of utter chaos, with men and horses falling everywhere.

Another series of bugle calls rang out. On the gentle slopes flanking the artillery unit, two battalions of Northern Army soldiers appeared, advancing slowly toward the mine in neat formations.

The Ore Guard knights, having finally found a target, immediately wheeled their horses around and charged.

Their speed, built up on the flat ground, was not quite enough. The cavalry had only galloped to within a hundred meters of the army’s formation when they were met with a coordinated volley of rifle fire.

Bang! Bang! Bang—

The sound of gunfire was followed by blossoms of blood erupting from the enemy ranks, and then they began to fall from their horses as if they were wheat being cut down.

The cavalrymen at the rear of the charge who were lucky enough to survive reined in their horses and fled in panic without a moment’s hesitation.

And the direction they fled was, indeed, the very road where Hick’s battalion lay in ambush.

The thudding of hooves, growing from a distant rumble to a tremor that shook the very ground, made Hick feel as though his own heart was beating in rhythm with it.

He tried his best to control his breathing, just as the instructor had taught him during training.

Huu— Huu—

His palms were sweating, and his body had grown stiff from holding his crouched position in the tall grass for so long.

“All units! Target at three hundred meters! Prepare to engage!”

Kneeling, aiming, ready to fire… Hick went through the series of prescribed motions almost by muscle memory, his finger instantly finding the trigger of his long rifle.

“Target one hundred fifty meters, take aim!”

“Fire!”

Gunfire erupted all around him. Hick felt a rush of blood to his head. He raised the muzzle of his rifle a half-inch, locked onto an enemy on horseback, and decisively pulled the trigger.

Barely half a second later, a crimson flower of blood burst from his target’s shoulder. The man’s galloping figure lurched violently, and he was thrown backward off his horse. Before he could even struggle, another companion right behind him galloped over his body, and in an instant, he was still.

He had successfully killed an enemy!

This first kill didn’t fill Hick with fear or disgust. The feeling of so easily destroying an enemy with a single shot even sparked a faint fanaticism deep within him. Almost subconsciously, he immediately shifted his aim, locking onto the next target charging toward them.

A battalion of five hundred fully-armed soldiers, equipped with repeating magical energy rifles and two Magical Energy Machine Guns.

Against a cavalry force of just over two hundred of the nobles’ Ore Guard, the outcome of the battle was a foregone conclusion.

A new recruit like Hick had barely emptied two magazines when he looked up to find not a single enemy left standing. The entire battle lasted less than fifteen minutes, leaving him with a feeling he couldn’t quite place, somewhere between unfulfillment and dejection.

The battalion commander walked around with a strange expression on his face, muttering with a grimace, “What a bunch of pathetic weaklings… I was hoping to let the soldiers get some bayonet practice, some experience in close-quarters combat!”

Chapter 779: Assault

The night was deep, and a silver moon hung high in the hazy, mist-covered sky.

Michel piloted a high-speed airship, flying steadily behind the faintly visible taillights of the flagship.

The temperature on the grasslands plummeted after nightfall. Even with the cockpit sealed on all sides, gusts of bone-chilling wind still managed to seep through the cracks.

All the mid-rank Mages serving as airship drivers were equipped with a pair of finely polished enchanted crystal goggles. These allowed them to maintain a clear field of vision even during high-speed flight, preventing them from being blinded by the glaring lights in the sky.

However, the standard, fully-enclosed, thick leather cap and a military uniform lined with Camel-ox wool were not enough to completely ward off the biting cold of late autumn. Many simply lifted the cover plate over the energy core at their feet, allowing the airship’s sole power source to provide a little warmth for the driver as it ran at full speed.

It was said that His Majesty the Emperor had personally urged the Alchemy Laboratory’s airship research and development department to create heated seats for the Aerial Combat Mages, so their bodies wouldn’t freeze stiff during long-distance flights.

Thinking of this, Michel couldn’t help but raise his hands to rub his somewhat numb face and chin. He turned to his partner and asked, “Ram, have you found anything?”

Ever since Colonel Hoden had become the Commander of the Independent Airship Regiment, he rarely flew missions with Michel anymore. His replacement was a young mage named Ram, who had just been promoted to mid-rank. On the direct recommendation of Dean Durt of the College of Magic, he was tasked with communications, observation, and aerial weapons control for this high-speed airship.

“No orders from the lead airship, and our formation hasn’t deviated from its course… Logically speaking, we should reach the Starfall Lake area in fifteen minutes at most.”

Starfall Lake was the only freshwater lake in the central grasslands. The surging Shatlan River flowed into it, nourishing a vast expanse of fertile pastureland and allowing the Hussar Kingdom of Isengard’s second great city—Steelrock City—to prosper for nearly a century.

The constant hum of the airship’s energy core filled the cockpit, making Ram’s voice sound somewhat low.

“After Steelrock City was captured, Starfall Lake must have been completely taken over by the Demonic Lizardmen’s Floating Island fortress… The enemy’s Winged ones have a wide operational range; we should have encountered them by now.”

Michel nodded and looked up at the directional indicator on the control console.

“Perhaps the enemy is holed up in Steelrock City and isn’t active around the lake… If the intelligence from the city is accurate, their two Floating Islands should be one overt, one covert. The one in Starfall Lake seems to be the one that hasn’t surfaced…”

As they were discussing, the alchemical communicator suddenly emitted a crackling sound, interrupting Michel’s analysis.

“Crackle—crackle— Left wing, be alert! A suspicious target has appeared at the eleven o’clock position, northwest!”

Ram’s expression tensed. He immediately put on his crystal goggles, opened the observation window, and stuck his head out. Michel leaned over to the left windscreen to look as well.

Following the instructions from the communicator, they soon spotted an anomaly on the ground ahead—a small patch of low hills that suddenly rose from the flat grasslands. Scattered, dim lights, like fireflies, were gathered together, moving down from the hillside.

These were clearly torches, candles, or similar sources of light, indicating that people were currently active on those hills.

“This is so close to the lake. How are there still people reckless enough to be out here?”

Michel squinted to get a better look before saying in a low voice, “Judging by the number of torches, there are quite a few of them… about two to three hundred people.”

“My god! Look below the hillside, behind them!” Ram suddenly cried out in alarm. “It’s Demonic Lizardmen! They’re chasing… No! They’re hunting those people!”

There were nearly a thousand pursuers, with even a few Winged ones mixed in, flying at low altitudes.

“Crackle—crackle— Left wing, attention! Prepare to descend and assume attack formation! We need to rescue our compatriots under attack below!”

The attack order came through the communicator at just the right moment. The two scarlet indicator lights on the tail of the lead airship at the front of the formation also lit up, flashing three times quickly. This signified that the fan formation needed to immediately switch from cruising formation to dive formation.

Michel didn’t hesitate. He pushed the control stick down, achieved a decelerated hover in less than half a second, and then dipped the nose of the high-speed airship slightly, assuming a diving posture.

“Left wing takes the lead! We go in first!” Michel shouted to remind Ram. “Preheat the Beam Weapon!”

The several airships on the left flank of the formation carved a gentle arc in the sky and then dove straight toward the distant hillside, reaching the target in less than three minutes.

Only when they were just seven or eight hundred meters from the hilly terrain did Michel finally get a clear view of the figures illuminated by the string of torches—a crowd of people attempting to escape the pursuit of the non-human race.

Dozens of people dressed as warriors, each holding a small and exquisite metal hand crossbow, brought up the rear of the column, covering the retreat. From time to time, they would turn and fire crossbow bolts back at the approaching enemy. As the bolts shot out… a faint fluctuation of mana could be seen.

“They’re actually using anti-magic hand crossbows? That’s the High Wizard Council’s proud imitation of an Alchemical Exploration Society design!”

Ram, being academy-trained, clearly recognized the weapon and spoke with some surprise.

This type of anti-magic crossbow, powered by Arcane magic stones, could naturally pose a certain threat to the non-human races with their magic-resistant hides. Unfortunately, its major flaw was its short range—a mere fifteen paces, not even enough to threaten the low-flying Winged ones.

Every time a Black Lizard warrior raised its arm to throw a javelin or spit a crystalline spike, it would hit someone at the back of the group. Occasionally, a shield-bearer would be lucky enough to avoid a vital spot, but people were still constantly being hit and falling to the ground, dying before anyone had time to rescue them.

Michel, however, had no time to spare. He piloted his airship to the very front of the charge. Only when he was less than a hundred meters from the ground did he yank back the control stick, forcing the airship’s nose up to begin climbing again.

At the same time, the firing port at the front of the lower gondola aimed at the enemy on the ground.

“Ram, fire!”

The moment Ram pulled the trigger, unleashing a torrent of bullets on the ground, the other airships around them also erupted with gunfire.

The rain of ammunition spewing from the gun barrels soon descended upon the enemies below like a giant, woven net.

The bullets effortlessly pierced the enemies’ bodies. Their dark hides burst open in an instant, and a mix of red and black blood and flesh spewed out. Mangled limbs and pieces of flesh splattered everywhere… Before they could even react, they were all instantly pulverized, as if they had been tossed into a meat grinder.

After one strafing run, the airship returned to a stable flight path as it rapidly gained altitude. Michel expertly pressed the signal light button, leading the rest of the left-wing airships in a turn in mid-air.

They charged toward the enemy on the ground once more!

Chapter 780: Survivors

The sound of something tearing through the sky above was deafening, yet it was clearly different from the noise made by the flapping wings of those winged monsters.

Even so, Dean didn’t dare turn his head to check the situation behind him.

Only by fleeing with all his might, by running just a little faster… could he possibly escape the clutches of those non-human monsters.

To have escaped Steelrock City by a stroke of luck was, for Dean, like getting his life back. When the city first fell, he had never imagined the situation would be so brutal. He had only been concerned with helping his father move their valuables into the cellar where they hid. They stayed there for three whole days, but the reinforcements from the surrounding noble lords never arrived. When hunger and thirst finally drove the father and son to creep out of the cellar, they discovered that Steelrock City had been transformed into a fiery hell on earth.

The city was littered with the bodies of innocents slaughtered by the non-human race. Those monstrous-looking creatures massacred everything indiscriminately. Whether it was the old or the young, or the cattle, sheep, pigs, and dogs kept in the yards, any living thing that entered their sight was doomed to die.

Dean’s father had been discovered by a non-human creature patrolling the city ruins while he was risking his life to find food, and he had died tragically under its blade.

Fortunately, Dean’s luck was still decent. Although the City Lord’s Steelrock Knight Order had been crushed by the non-humans, many warriors possessing the power of the bloodline were still secretly active throughout the city, doing their best to rescue survivors and move them out of the city through underground tunnels.

To have fled all the way from the city to here, only to fall prey to these non-human creatures after all… Dean felt an overwhelming sense of injustice. He grit his teeth and continued to sprint forward, but his legs gradually grew as heavy as lead.

The sound of the winged monsters’ flapping wings came from behind him again, plunging Dean into a state of despair.

No matter how fast two legs could run, they could never outpace a winged non-human.

In his confusion, he staggered and fell to the ground. He finally broke down, clutching his head… By the Light, why would you punish your devout followers so, releasing these Devils of Calamity from the abyss?

The crystalline spike of a spear did not pierce his body as he had expected.

Instead, a strange rat-a-tat sound reached his ears… deep yet rhythmic, even interspersed with the terrifying sound of flesh being torn apart.

“What is that thing floating in the sky?” cried a companion who had fallen not far from him.

Dean subconsciously lifted his head and opened his eyes, and he saw a scene that would be seared into his memory for eternity.

Under the high, silver moon, five or six spindle-shaped sailing vessels floated in mid-air, diving towards them at incredible speed. When they were only a hundred-odd meters from the ground, they all tilted their bows upward, tracing a gentle arc through the sky.

The next second, from the bellies of the ships now exposed below, blazing muzzle flashes erupted… After a dense burst of rat-a-tat sounds, the non-human monsters directly beneath the sailing vessels collapsed to the ground in unison, as if cut and pierced by tens of thousands of invisible blades, their bodies mangled and torn to pieces.

Suddenly assaulted from the air, the non-humans could no longer be bothered to pursue Dean and the other refugees. After futilely hurling a few spears into the sky, they showed signs of breaking rank and fleeing.

Dean lay half-sprawled on the ground, almost completely stunned.

A painful groan from nearby brought him back to his senses. It was one of the Steelrock warriors responsible for their rescue and escort, who had unfortunately had an arm severed by a monster while covering their retreat. Although his companions had dragged him along as they fled, he had collapsed from the severe injury and blood loss.

Dean scrambled over to him, pulled off his own sweat-soaked belt, and tied it tightly around the upper part of the warrior’s severed arm, managing to stanch the bleeding somewhat.

“My lord, are… are these… reinforcements… here to save us?” he asked the injured warrior carefully.

The warrior grimaced from the immense pain of his wound. He took a moment to recover before saying in a trembling voice, “It’s… it’s the Valen people. It must be the Valen people’s magical army!”

The Valen people?

They could actually control sailing vessels that flew through the sky… This was simply too shocking. Were these people all Spellcasters who possessed extraordinary power?

“Don’t worry about all that. At least we’re saved for now.” The warrior tossed aside the hand crossbow in his hand, its bolts long since spent, an expression of relief on his face as if he’d just escaped from the jaws of death. “Rumor has it that the army of the Valen people has been active in the central grasslands. For them to appear here now… they must be after the non-humans in Steelrock City.”

Dean, however, couldn’t spare a thought for matters of war. He asked urgently, “My lord, will they escort us to a safe zone in the south?”

The warrior looked at the massive Airship formation hovering in the distant sky, then back up at the five or six Airships that were about to conclude their one-sided “slaughter” of the non-humans, a helpless, bitter smile on his face.

“It looks like they have a more important mission to carry out… The chances of them escorting us away are slim.”

Unless this group of refugees possessed some intelligence of value.

…

The Airship landed lightly on a high slope. Michel pushed open the gondola door and walked alongside Ram toward the huddled group of refugees.

“Are you escapees from Steelrock City? Who is the leader in charge?”

A middle-aged man with graying hair stood up, limping. His blood-stained armor was broken in many places, a clear sign of the many battles he had endured.

“I am the leader of the refugees. Your Excellency, Sir… please call me Peres.” The man struggled to give Michel a standard knight’s salute. “Before the City Lord fell in battle, I served in the Steelrock Knight Order. I was the Captain of the Squire-Warriors under the Chief Knight.”

Michel and Ram exchanged a glance. The reason their few Airships had stayed behind to assist these people was precisely to gather intelligence on Steelrock City.

“Is there still a human Resistance active in Steelrock City?”

The warrior gave a bitter laugh and answered honestly, “We no longer have the ability to organize an effective counterattack. Those who can still fight are doing their best to help survivors escape… I estimate there are at least several thousand innocent civilians still hiding in the city. If those non-human monsters continue to occupy it, even if they remain hidden and undiscovered, they will soon starve or die of thirst.”

“Where are the other survivors like yourselves who have escaped the city?”

“In a valley over five kilometers from here. There is a large, dense thicket of sand willows there, which provides a safe hiding place for the survivors… Even if those winged monsters fly overhead, it’s very difficult for them to spot any trace of human activity below.”

But staying there for long was not a solution. The sand willow valley was short on supplies; even wild animals to hunt were extremely scarce. The lack of a water source was an even more fatal problem.

Peres and the others had originally planned to organize the refugees for a retreat to the south after escorting this final group to the valley.

Upon learning that there were over one thousand survivors in the sand willow valley, Michel could only return to the Airship with a sense of helplessness and use the communicator again to contact the navigation flagship for assistance.

The closest safe haven for these refugees… was likely the permanent military base the Northern Army was rushing to build at Wind-Eroded Ridge, which had just been brought under their Dominion, one hundred kilometers away.

Chapter 781: High-Risk Infiltration

Northern Isengard, the fallen capital of Ironhill.

The monastery complex, situated on the city’s high ground, was not connected to the city’s underground waterways. For this reason, it had become an area rarely frequented by the Demonic Lizardmen occupying the city.

Beneath the sprawling residences of the Church’s monks were numerous wine cellars of various sizes, which had become the last refuges for the city’s survivors to hide from the non-human race’s attacks.

In the dim, cramped cellar, only half a candle provided faint illumination.

A few figures in dirty gray robes huddled together, murmuring in discussion by the candlelight.

“The number of winged monsters active in the Lower District suddenly increased today. My people couldn’t get near the livestock market… I can’t confirm the information you wanted just yet.” An old man with graying hair pushed back his cloak, revealing a wrinkled, aged face.

The middle-aged man beside him looked unwell. He covered his mouth and coughed quietly for a long while before recovering enough to say, “If you can’t get near the market during the day, then try again at night. I need to confirm the authenticity of this intelligence immediately, or I can’t report back to my superiors.”

It was already risky enough during the day. Going at night, when the non-human race was more active, would be a suicide mission, wouldn’t it?

A hint of anger flashed across the old man’s face. He said in a low voice, “Scouting for information on the non-human race for you has already cost me a number of my people… It’s not easy to survive in this monster-infested city. There’s no need to push us this far.”

As he spoke, the other survivor leaders responsible for gathering intelligence for the middle-aged man also showed looks of sympathy and understanding, their resolve wavering.

“He’s right, Mr. Hughes… The supplies available for scavenging in the city are dwindling. Just venturing out to find food each day is already incredibly difficult for our people. For intelligence gathering, you should give us more time.”

“Yes, Mr. Hughes, please be more patient. Perhaps an opportunity will arise in a few days. My people can only try to sneak over when those monsters return to the underground waterways.”

These non-human races from the north had their bodies covered in a strange, dark husk. Like amphibians, they needed to periodically return to the water to moisten their bodies. Over time, this allowed the survivors to grasp some of their daily activity patterns.

Hughes’s gaze swept over the survivor leaders before him. In the end, he chose to compromise.

“I’ll give you three more days…”

Hughes’s situation was different from these survivor leaders. As the only son of the Elder Priest of the Stoneheart Hermits, he had voluntarily taken on the mission of intelligence gathering after Ironhill fell, leading a group of core believers on a risky infiltration back into the capital.

Unlike these survivors, who were trapped and unable to escape the city, his group had brought a large quantity of desperately needed medicine and supplies. The weapons they carried were extremely rare alchemical firearms… At a distance of nearly ten meters, a shot to an enemy’s vital points—the chest, abdomen, or head—could kill instantly.

With scarce resources in one hand and powerful weapons in the other, Hughes and his dozen or so followers had managed to gain control over nearly all of Ironhill’s survivor groups, large and small. He had them gather around him, to be commanded at his will, to scout and obtain intelligence on the Demonic Lizardmen’s activities.

A few days ago, while scavenging for supplies near the abandoned Royal Palace, a survivor had, by a stroke of luck, discovered a secret passage connecting the inside and outside of the palace. Sneaking in with a glimmer of hope, he was horrified to find that the end of the passage… was an entrance to the waterways beneath the Royal Palace. Thousands of non-human monsters were densely packed underground, seemingly in a brief period of dormancy.

The survivor had been scared out of his wits. After stumbling back in a panic, he immediately reported this to Hughes. As the head of intelligence for Ironhill, working for what was effectively an “outsourced” intelligence department for St. Valen, Hughes immediately and sharply realized the implications.

When the non-human race first attacked Ironhill, most people believed they had infiltrated through the city’s man-made waterways, which drew water from the Shatlan River outside the city. Combined with the element of surprise from a nighttime attack, this had led to the capital’s complete fall overnight.

But now, with the discovery of the waterway entrance in the catacomb, Hughes began to suspect that a submerged Floating Island fortress might exist beneath the capital.

Furthermore, after careful observation during this period, he noticed that the non-human warriors dispatched from Ironhill seemed endless, their numbers far exceeding the scale of the initial assault on the capital. This led Hughes to suspect that the Floating Island beneath their feet might be the non-human race’s Main Keep.

It was worth noting that “Number Two Floating Island” on the ice sea frontline had also been identified as one of the non-human race’s Main Keep floating islands. The forces stored within it were several times that of an ordinary Floating Island fortress, numbering close to eighty thousand.

This speculation immediately made Hughes feel as if he were sitting on a terrifying, active volcano… He promptly transmitted the message back to St. Valen using a Magic Brain device, and the Kingdom’s highest intelligence department replied: he must verify and definitively confirm the reliability of this information, as it would be a crucial reference for military operations!

This meant that if the information was wrong, or if there were even a slight deviation in the intelligence, it could lead the army to misjudge the situation during their operation. The resulting losses would be too great to bear. No wonder Hughes was so anxious to complete his assignment.

Every time he used the Magic Brain device in Ironhill to transmit a piece of intelligence, he and his Hermit Order followers had to take enormous risks… These northern monsters, called Demonic Lizardmen, seemed to possess a keen perception only for things with mana or divine art fluctuations. In contrast, they were relatively slow to react to ordinary mortals moving right under their noses.

Their senses of smell and hearing appeared to be dull. As long as one wasn’t directly spotted by the “eyes” beneath the deep red crystal armor on their heads, escape was generally possible. Once a suitable hiding spot was found, the monsters seemed to have no desire to pursue further.

But if one carried an item with mana fluctuations, the situation was completely different.

The moment a mana fluctuation appeared in the city, they would instantly sense and pinpoint its location like a school of sharks smelling blood. They would then swarm the area in droves and, once they locked onto a target, would never give up easily, making escape impossible.

This was why transcendent beings in Ironhill, such as Spellcasters and Priests from the Holy See, were often the first to be discovered, their locations pinpointed and then eliminated.

And every time Hughes and his followers used the Magic Brain device to send intelligence to the outside world, they risked attracting the attention of the city’s non-human race. Sometimes, they managed to escape by a stroke of luck, using the complex terrain and secret passages of the city ruins. But more often, the person responsible for sending and receiving the message would tragically be sacrificed.

Since Hughes was first ordered to lead his people to infiltrate the city and lie in wait, their original group of twenty-nine companions… had now dwindled to just eleven.

Chapter 782: The Martyr’s Intelligence (Part 1)

After the survivor leaders who had come to report left one by one through the secret passage, the cramped cellar suddenly fell quiet.

A follower approached the pensive Hughes and whispered, “My lord, the follower responsible for monitoring Bell Tower Square in the upper city didn’t return at the appointed time last night. Should we…”

Send someone to look for him? That would just be sending another person to a fruitless death.

Around midnight yesterday, survivors active in that area had clearly heard several loud bangs from the streets… that was the sound a magical energy revolver makes when fired repeatedly. Once a shot was fired, it would inevitably draw the attention of more Demonic Lizardmen. At night, the intense mana fluctuation released by the weapon was as hard to ignore as a dazzling candle flame.

He could only hope that the unfortunate martyred follower had saved the last bullet for himself. At least that way, he wouldn’t be surrounded and torn to shreds alive by those disgusting monsters.

Hughes gave a bitter smile and slowly shook his head. “No need to send anyone… Wait a few days for the non-humans occupying that area to return to the waterways to hibernate, then we’ll find a way to retrieve the magic gun.”

They hadn’t brought many magical energy revolvers with them when they infiltrated Ironhill this time—only ten pistols in total. Add to that the equally rare magic stone bullets, of which every one fired was one less they had. Unless they were in a direct confrontation with the enemy and couldn’t escape, firing was strictly forbidden except in the most critical of moments.

On the contrary, Hughes had wisely followed the advice of the higher-ups in the Intelligence Department and used their limited transport capacity to bring more alchemical magic potions produced in the capital, Starfire City. These potions not only had miraculous hemostatic and healing effects on critical injuries but also rarely caused the Side Effect of mana corrosion in mortals. For the survivors in the city, they were first-rate life-saving supplies.

By tightly controlling these portable magic pills, Hughes could easily establish close cooperative relationships with survivor groups of all sizes in the city, using their familiarity with their respective areas of activity to extend his intelligence-gathering tendrils throughout the entire city.

It could be said that for any event happening on the surface of this magnificent capital, which had once been home to nearly fifty thousand people, if Hughes wanted to know about it, he would certainly find a way to get the information within three days.

Right now, his most pressing concern was, naturally, how to confirm whether a Floating Island Main Keep existed in the underground river, and just how many non-human troops this Floating Island Main Keep was storing.

To gather intelligence of this level, relying on a few survivor groups operating on the fringes was naturally not enough. Hughes had already made up his mind that when the time was right, he had to personally confirm the accuracy of the source.

The Demonic Lizardmen active in Ironhill rotated in batches approximately every three days. Both the regular Black Lizardmen soldiers and the winged monsters constantly patrolling the skies needed to return underground to replenish their black water and soak their magic-resistant hides. This period was called the “half-day hibernation” by the local survivors.

It was precisely this regular half-day hibernation that provided humans with precious time to move about outside… whether it was to gather supplies and food or to seize the opportunity to ambush and kill lone non-humans to avenge their fallen kin, the risk was exponentially lower compared to normal days.

There were even many who, clinging to a sliver of hope, attempted to risk leaving the city during this time, trying to flee to the rumored safety of the south… But for dozens of kilometers around Ironhill, there was nothing but vast, endless, flat grasslands, almost constantly under the surveillance of the winged monsters that came and went like the wind. Wanting to escape on foot without being pursued was practically a pipe dream.

On the evening of the third day, as night fell, a survivor leader, guided by a follower, once again came to the underground wine cellar in the monastery district.

“Mr. Hughes…” The old man’s face was unnaturally pale, and his excitement made his chest heave rapidly. “My people successfully slipped into the livestock market. Just as you predicted… they found an entrance to the underground waterway in a warehouse used for storing winter fodder.”

Nearly half of the human and animal sewage in Ironhill’s upper and lower cities was discharged out of the city through a vast network of underground waterways built since the city’s founding, flowing directly into the rushing Shatlan River. But the ordinary sewer channels, which even an adult could not pass through, could not possibly be used by the Demonic Lizardmen to emerge from underground. Only by finding the location of the main waterway entrances could they determine the movements of these subterranean monsters.

Hughes breathed a sigh of relief at his words and said in a low voice, “Very good. Have your people watch that place closely… For me, record how many non-human monsters appear at the waterway entrance during this period. Remember, I want a number that is as accurate as possible.”

The old man was somewhat surprised, stammering, “Count their numbers? What for?”

“You don’t need to know. Just do as I say.” As he spoke, Hughes raised his hand and summoned a subordinate, instructing in a low voice, “Get a dose of the New Life Potion for Mr. Eriel. Take the potion yourself and go with him to his hiding place to treat his granddaughter’s illness.”

Eriel’s tone became a little hurried upon hearing this. “Mr. Hughes, why not just give the potion directly to me?”

Hughes waved his hand and explained patiently, “This magic potion needs to be administered by intravenous injection. If it’s not done correctly, it won’t have any therapeutic effect at all. Don’t worry… you should be aware of my reputation. I would never deceive you about something like this.”

Seeing his sincere tone, Eriel was finally at ease. He placed a hand on his chest, bowed deeply, and then hurriedly led the man away.

After seeing off the survivor leader, Eriel, Hughes immediately stood up and went to his desk. He lit a faint candle flame and spread out a tattered city map with creased edges.

The map was densely covered in numerous symbols, interspersed with several eye-catching red circles of various sizes. Hughes took a small notebook from his pocket, opened it, and began to calculate meticulously.

[Second month of summer, fourth day. Bell Tower Square waterway. Approximately one thousand plus targets appeared… Left the city and did not return on hibernation day.]

[Second month of summer, eighth day. Royal Palace waterway. Approximately one thousand plus targets appeared… Left the city. Fewer than one hundred winged monsters returned on hibernation day.]

[Second month of summer, eleventh day. Fountain Alley waterway. Approximately one thousand plus targets appeared, all winged monsters… Left the city, heading south. Did not return on hibernation day.]

…

Hughes stared at the hundreds of dense entries in the notebook, checking them carefully one by one. The more he calculated, the more alarmed he secretly became.

At the eight main underground waterway entrances he was aware of so far, nearly a thousand non-human soldiers would frequently appear at regular intervals. They didn’t linger in the city at all… A follower responsible for monitoring movements outside the city had climbed the city wall and seen it with his own eyes: almost all of them disappeared into the Shatlan River, heading straight into the water and vanishing without a trace.

Never mind where they were being deployed to fight humans… just calculating the numbers of those appearing, it was far greater than the portion that returned regularly to hibernate!

If he used the calculation method provided to him by the higher-ups in the Intelligence Department, the answer was almost obvious—

The Floating Island Main Keep beneath Ironhill was storing at least one hundred thousand Demonic Lizardmen soldiers, and it was a combined force with a large number of winged species!

Hughes realized he had to transmit this verified intelligence back to St. Valen as soon as possible via the Magic Brain device.

No Update Today, Taking a Break!

No update today, taking a break!

I’m on a business trip out of town for student recruitment, so I’m taking one day off!

I’ll basically be on a bullet train all day, so I won’t be able to settle down and write…

Chapter 783: The Martyr’s Intelligence (Part 2)

In the fallen capital of Isengard, the first glimmer of dawn cast a golden ray upon the spire of the monastery district’s clock tower.

The high priest of the Stoneheart Hermits… also the Intelligence Chief of the St. Valen United Kingdom stationed in Ironhill, Turalyon Hughes, emerged hunched over from a wine cellar beneath the monks’ quarters, a mottled, dark cloak draped over his shoulders.

The non-human races weren’t very active in this area, so he didn’t have to worry too much about being exposed and pursued. Besides, he was wearing a standard-issue Northern Army optical camouflage cloak, which provided excellent concealment as he moved through the city ruins.

Leading two of his trusted subordinates, the three of them quickly passed through the monastery’s cluster of buildings and reached a narrow alley on the border of the upper and lower city. Behind two stone houses, mostly collapsed after being burned, was an abandoned, half-buried granary.

This was the hidden location where they stored their Magic Brain device and sent and received intelligence.

In fact, Hughes and his followers had brought a total of four portable Magic Brain devices into Ironhill. However, each time a device was used to connect to the Magic Net, it needed a magic stone to power it up. Although the resulting mana fluctuations were not as intense as those from a magical energy weapon, they could still attract the notice of any non-human races passing by. This was how two of the devices—along with the intelligence personnel who had risked operating them—had been lost. The devices, of course, were destroyed by the Demonic Lizardmen.

If the matter hadn’t been so critical, Hughes wouldn’t have come to carry out this dangerous intelligence mission himself.

After rendezvousing with a follower stationed nearby to monitor the situation, the three of them cautiously patrolled the area for a while, meticulously searching every abandoned building to ensure they hadn’t accidentally missed any lone, hibernating Demonic Lizardmen.

After completing a series of preparations, the other followers dispersed to hide in the surroundings and act as lookouts. Hughes, accompanied by one man, slipped into the granary’s cellar. He carefully retrieved an exquisitely crafted brass device from a hidden compartment beneath the floorboards.

Hughes then pulled a crystalline Arcane magic stone from his coat, along with a neatly folded, yellowed slip of paper… on it were two vital pieces of intelligence for this transmission, recorded succinctly.

As the magic stone was inserted into a slot on the side of the device, the mana ephemera indicating a successful connection to the Magic Net gradually appeared on the palm-sized crystal screen. Hughes didn’t hesitate for a moment, immediately raising his hands and beginning to tap briskly on the device’s keys.

The first thing to enter was a fixed code unique to Hughes’s Intelligence Department… a code he knew by heart, one he could never get wrong.

Once the mana ephemera on the crystal screen began to converge and form recognizable characters and runes, Hughes proceeded to input the content of his intelligence report.

“Check the situation outside…” he said, reminding his follower to keep an eye on their surroundings as he quickly typed on the device.

His subordinate had been crouching by the door, looking out, ever since they entered the granary. He now replied in a steady voice, “All clear… My lord, it seems our luck is good today. There are no non-human patrols nearby.”

Who would have thought that just as he finished speaking, the shrill cry of an owl echoed from a derelict building a hundred meters away—it was a warning from one of the lookouts, signaling that a suspected target was approaching… but they couldn’t confirm if it was non-human.

Hughes frowned but wasn’t overly distracted. His hands never paused, and with a clean, sharp tap, he entered the final character before letting out a long sigh of relief.

“Intelligence input complete. Awaiting transmission…”

Another cry rang out, this one more urgent.

“My lord, it’s a lone Black Lizardman. Someone has already gone to try and lead it away.”

Hughes nodded, his expression grave as he stared at the device glowing with a faint white light, patiently waiting for the final step to complete.

“My lord, five o’clock, less than three hundred meters away, there’s a winged monster on a low-altitude patrol… Oh no! I think it’s spotted us!”

The transmission wasn’t complete… Hughes snatched the brass device into his arms, hurried to the door, and said urgently, “I’ll move the device. You try to draw it away!”

After a pause, he added with difficulty, “Unless absolutely necessary, try not to return fire…”

…

Hughes moved swiftly through the shadows of the alley’s buildings, his camouflage cloak wrapped around him. There was no panic in his heart… He knew well that the mana fluctuations from the Magic Brain device were very faint. The chances of a non-human race zeroing in on him, a lone mortal, were not particularly high.

After he had traveled a short distance toward the Upper District, the glow from the device in his arms dimmed, indicating that the intelligence had been successfully transmitted through the Magic Net.

Now, he just needed to find a new, suitable hiding place to stash this “hot potato” again, waiting for the next mission to retrieve it.

Suddenly, a sharp whistle tore through the air above him.

It was a completely different sound from the beating wings of a winged monster. Hughes subconsciously looked up through a gap in the ruined buildings.

In the brightening dawn sky, three crimson figures hovered in mid-air… but their backs didn’t have the huge, fleshy wings that Hughes found so familiar.

It was… it was high-rank Evolved ones of the Demonic Lizardmen!

Three Evolved ones!

A bone-chilling cold instantly spread from his spine throughout his body. The sight of those crystalline red figures instilled more fear in him than even the ancient, high-ranking demons he once worshipped.

He was practically frozen on the spot, his eyes fixed on the sky, his mind reeling so violently that he couldn’t move for a long moment.

Terrifyingly, even though he was a mortal, Hughes’s long, focused stare was faintly sensed by one of the Evolved ones… It slowly turned its body, and a swollen, single eye embedded in its chest and abdomen opened a sliver. The pupil within contracted sharply, and in the next second, it locked onto the location of the observer on the ground.

Bang—

The sound of a gunshot echoed through the quiet alley, instantly diverting the Evolved ones’ attention. One of them didn’t hesitate to flash through the air and dive toward the source of the shot.

Hughes knew it was his subordinate, sacrificing his own life to buy him time to escape.

But the Magic Brain device he still clutched to his chest was a constant reminder… he had to connect to the Magic Net again and transmit this terrifying new intelligence!

Seizing the brief moment while the Evolved ones in the sky were distracted by the gunshot, he hugged the device tightly and dashed into a nearby abandoned building. He ran straight through the dilapidated hall, kicked open the cellar’s trapdoor, and jumped in without a second thought.

Lighting a fire starter and clenching it between his teeth, he pulled a crystalline magic stone from his belt and pushed it into the slot. A few seconds later, the device activated again.

After entering the code to unlock the intelligence network at top speed, Hughes typed out an exceptionally concise message on the crystal screen, faster than he ever had in his life.

【Ironhill Evolved Three】

Once the message began transmitting, he didn’t choose to stay and wait for death.

He left the Magic Brain device behind and climbed out of the cellar… stumbling out the back door of the building and running toward the more distant Lower District.

The Evolved one that had first noticed his gaze did indeed give chase. However, its crystalline red form suddenly paused in the air above the abandoned building, seemingly hesitating whether to continue pursuing a mortal ant or to descend and investigate the faint mana fluctuation emanating from within.

Hughes, naturally, wouldn’t give it ample time to think…

With a bang from his gun, a bullet grazed past the target’s side, and a strong mana fluctuation rippled through the air.

This abnormal act of using himself as bait naturally recaptured the Evolved one’s attention, causing it to completely ignore the tiny, weak mana fluctuation.

Like a beast toying with its startled prey, it unhurriedly gave chase in the direction Hughes had fled.

Chapter 784: Information Feedback

Through the cross-planar information transmission of the Magic Net hub, the intelligence from Isengard successfully reached the capital, Starfire City, in St. Valen in less than an hour.

The two messages were sent less than fifteen minutes apart. This anomaly immediately drew the full attention of the capital’s Intelligence Department. After being personally reviewed by Astaren, it was delivered to His Majesty the Emperor at the first opportunity.

When His Majesty the Emperor saw the intelligence, he instantly lost his appetite for breakfast.

“Who is leading the active intelligence group in Ironhill right now?” Harvey asked Astaren, his brow tightly furrowed.

“A high-ranking priest of the Stoneheart Hermits, Your Majesty… You should have an impression of him. Elder Hughes’s own son, Mr. Turalyon Hughes.”

Old Hughes’s only son… Harvey nodded, indicating that he was indeed aware of the man.

After all, several months ago, the younger Hughes, who also served as a regional Intelligence Chief, had taken the opportunity of a work report to write a personal letter pleading with him—to grant his aging father, who was suffering from mana decline, the honor of transferring his soul into an alchemical body to become an alchemical lifeform.

At the time, Harvey had not granted the request immediately. On one hand, he was preoccupied with the war on the ice sea front. On the other, he felt the Stoneheart Hermits’ contributions to the Kingdom were not yet significant enough to warrant such a reward.

The younger Hughes had likely realized this issue, so in the subsequent military operations against Isengard, he worked extremely hard to coordinate intelligence activities with the Northern Army. He even went so far as to personally infiltrate “enemy-occupied territory” to conduct the exceptionally dangerous work of monitoring the enemy in the non-human-infested city of Ironhill.

Harvey laid the two slips of paper containing the intelligence flat on the table, smoothing them out with his palm. “I fear they paid a terrible price to get this information out.”

Astaren was silent for a moment before speaking in a low voice, “The Magic Net hub can still detect a connection point for a Magic Brain device within Ironhill… Perhaps there are survivors in that intelligence group.”

To send a message with such urgency, without even time for a detailed description, basically meant the outcome was grim.

Harvey shook his head, his expression calm. “Call Pierce and the other high-ranking military officers. We need to hold a meeting immediately… The military plans for Isengard must be adjusted.”

…

Pierce, who had gone to inspect the outpost yesterday, hurried back to the capital after receiving the Emperor’s summons.

By the time he strode into the conference hall, the rest of the Northern Army’s high command had already arrived.

“Your Majesty, our military deployment in southeastern Isengard has just begun. Why the sudden need to…”

Harvey waved a hand, cutting off Pierce’s question. In a grave voice, he said, “There is a Demonic Lizardmen Floating Island Main Keep hidden beneath Ironhill. After nearly three months of close monitoring, we’ve determined its troop reserves number over eighty thousand… and they have at least three high-rank Evolved ones in command!”

The Emperor’s expression was somewhat grim. He paused before continuing, “I suspect they’ve already discerned our strategic intentions. They won’t just stand by and watch the human army establish a permanent military base in the Wind-Eroded Ridge area. It would pose too great a threat to their main base in the south, Ironhill.”

An uproar erupted among the military high command present. Pierce immediately understood the problem and asked in a hoarse voice.

“You believe they will take immediate action against Wind-Eroded Ridge?”

Harvey nodded, taking a deep breath as he surveyed the hall. “Gentlemen, our strategic deployment at Wind-Eroded Ridge is not yet complete. If the enemy makes a desperate move and sends their Evolved ones on a surprise attack, and we have no reinforcements from the extraordinary combat division… what do we do?”

Two or three high-rank Evolved ones might not be able to threaten the entire army, but harassing and destroying the artillery positions currently under construction would be child’s play for them. Likewise, the airship unit, which is completely reliant on magical energy, would also become a target.

The Demonic Lizardmen Evolved ones’ strange and unpredictable Mana Devouring ability was witnessed by all during the battle on the ice sea front.

Furthermore, based on the troop movement data provided in the intelligence, the Floating Island Main Keep beneath Ironhill deployed nearly ten thousand combat troops to the surface over the past month. They then left the city and vanished without a trace.

And along the entire Eastern Defense Line, not a single Northern Army combat unit has detected any trace of this non-human army.

This means the main consciousness of the Demonic Lizardmen is likely amassing a surprise force in a location undetectable by humans, a force that could launch a massive attack on our defense lines at any moment.

Astaren decisively recommended, “Your Majesty, we must immediately halt construction of the military base at Wind-Eroded Ridge. All logistics supplies, engineering personnel, and heavy artillery should be transferred at once to avoid incalculable losses from an enemy attack!”

An official in charge of military logistics and transportation let out a pained cry. “Your Majesty! General! We’ve dispatched nearly all the logistics troops and Transportation Department personnel stationed in Isengard just to get the modular heavy cannons to Wind-Eroded Ridge…”

Not to mention the vast amounts of artillery ammunition, weapons, equipment, and construction materials transported piece by piece over the last half a month. That even includes components for several Planet-level Energy-gathering Arrays, which have only just entered the assembly and calibration phase.

Facing the swift and unpredictable high-rank Evolved ones of the non-human race, ordinary soldiers cannot stop them from causing chaos, no matter how strictly they guard the perimeter. These beings can’t be locked onto by beam-based anti-air weapons, nor can they be pursued by floating Airships. If they were solely focused on detonating a few liquid magical energy storage tanks or destroying some of the newly assembled modular magical energy heavy cannons, they could do so with great ease.

“We cannot withdraw from Wind-Eroded Ridge. Once the non-human Evolved ones succeed in an attack… the next step will likely be the arrival of the Demonic Lizardmen’s main army. If we retreat even one step, we will be constrained on all fronts from then on.”

As commander-in-chief of the army, Pierce was resolute, decisively voicing his opposition to a withdrawal.

The military high command immediately split into two factions, each arguing fiercely from their own standpoint.

Harvey tapped his fingers lightly on the tabletop. Once the conference hall quieted down, he turned his gaze to the man sitting at the far end of the long table—Dean, the Instructor and tactical commander of the Spark Spec Ops squad.

Seeing the Emperor’s intense gaze but noting his silence, Dean braced himself and stood up. He placed a hand on his chest in a salute and said in a solemn voice, “Your Majesty, I believe we should immediately dispatch the Starfire Warriors to the southeast to act as the main defense for the Wind-Eroded Ridge base and deal with any potential non-human Evolved ones.”

“Do you believe that without the assistance of high-rank battle mages, the Starfire Warriors can independently shoulder the heavy responsibility of confronting the non-human Evolved ones?” the Emperor’s question was very direct.

Dean pondered for a moment before replying decisively, “While I cannot guarantee a one hundred percent certainty of killing the targets, we can at least delay their actions, allowing other combat units to coordinate with us and ensure their surprise attack comes to nothing… That shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”

Chapter 785: Short-acting Stimulant

Southeast of Isengard, Wind-Eroded Ridge.

The permanent base in the valley’s Mining Area was under intense construction. With the help of alchemical beasts, over a thousand Engineers cut the quarried stones flat and built a thick, heavy wall around the base’s perimeter.

When the shrill sound of the alarm siren pierced the sky, the bustling construction site came to a sudden halt. Everyone immediately dropped what they were doing and ran in an orderly fashion to the nearest anti-air shelter.

Harassment from the Demonic Lizardmen’s Winged ones had become a frequent occurrence over the past three days, and the soldiers stationed here were already used to it.

With a temporary anti-air system composed of Beam Weapons, there were almost no troop casualties from the attacks, though the base’s construction progress was severely hampered.

These enemies, who frequently attacked from the north, seemed to have little interest in a direct confrontation. They would often just circle and hover around the base, launching a few probing attacks on the outer defenses. As soon as they met with a human counterattack, they would immediately disengage and retreat.

The combat mission they had received seemed to be mere harassment, intended only to create chaos and disrupt the human army’s normal operations.

As a result, the combat units stationed on the base’s outer defense line were suffering greatly.

“How many times has the alarm gone off today?” Hick poked his head out of the trench, shaking a layer of dust from his body and spitting irritably on the ground several times. A Winged one had just casually fired a bolt of red-light lightning into their combat zone, and the resulting explosion had filled his mouth with dirt and sand.

His comrade beside him put away his weapon, moving his sore and stiff shoulders with difficulty. He muttered, “They came once at midnight yesterday, and again at dawn this morning… Counting this one, that’s three times already!”

“These damned monsters are trying to wear us down to exhaustion with this constant harassment,” Hick cursed resentfully. But when he turned his head, he saw his comrade take a small tin box from his coat, his hand trembling as he tipped something out.

He couldn’t help but click his tongue and offered a piece of advice, “There’s still more than half a day until the guard shift changes. Don’t take it… They’ll probably come again before nightfall.”

But his comrade just shook his head, his face weary. He sighed, “I haven’t slept for a whole day and night since the last shift change. Back at the base, I had to help move supplies, doing the work of an Engineer for half the day. Aren’t you tired?”

The temporary outer defenses, which had been hastily dug, didn’t yet have semi-underground defensive bunkers built at intervals along the trenches. The soldiers rotated in for guard duty could only huddle in the damp, cold ditches, forcing themselves to stay on high alert for enemies that could appear at any moment.

Hick rubbed his stiff legs and said patiently, “The Sir repeatedly warned us not to take this medicine unless absolutely necessary. The more frequently you take it in a short period… the less effective it becomes in the end.”

“What does it matter… As long as it doesn’t kill you, it’s fine.” His comrade shrugged, tossing a round, fingernail-sized pill into his mouth. He mumbled, “At least it’ll make me feel better right now. Otherwise, I’d really be half-dead.”

He swallowed the pill with a gulp of water. In less than half a minute, the soldier’s pale, weary complexion immediately turned rosy. Brimming with energy, he picked up his weapon again, settled steadily back into his firing position in the trench, and even gave Hick a show-offish wink.

Hick sighed softly. He subconsciously reached for his waist, his fingers brushing against the small, square tin box.

This medicine had been suddenly distributed to the soldiers as special military supplies just before the expedition. The medical director in charge of distribution said its official name was “Short-acting Stimulant.” When experiencing extreme fatigue and exhaustion, just one pill could instantly restore a soldier’s condition. Not only would all physical discomfort vanish, but their reflexes would even become much sharper than before. For the several hours the drug was effective, the soldier would even feel the illusion of having advanced to the transcendent realm, with all their bodily functions enhanced several times over.

If one were unfortunately injured in battle, as long as they didn’t die on the spot… they just needed to take an increased dose of two to three pills to temporarily block the immense pain from the wound. Even with massive blood loss, they could remain conscious until battlefield medics arrived.

Although the side effects that followed once the drug wore off were an explosive, magnified return of the previous discomfort and pain, for soldiers constantly walking the line between life and death, it was still nothing less than the most effective last hope.

Because of this, many soldiers who had tried the drug liked to call it the “transcendent potion” in private. They ranked it alongside the New Life Potion, which promoted rapid healing of flesh wounds, as one of the military’s most miraculously effective alchemical magic potions.

Hick, who had always been cautious by nature, had carefully read the written prescription pasted inside the tin box after receiving his pills. Its contents were exactly the same as the Sir’s repeated warnings: Do not take an overdose unless you have sustained a fatal injury, and there must be an interval of at least six hours between single doses.

Hick had also heard that this drug had already been distributed to all combat units on the Eastern Defense Line. Even officers and Bloodline Warriors with their extraordinary powers could receive a certain quota of the potion. The soldiers who were truly on the front lines, continuously fighting the Demonic Lizardmen, probably understood the necessity of this potion even better.

After arriving at Wind-Eroded Ridge, faced with twenty-four-hour, non-stop harassment from the Winged ones, many soldiers who lacked combat experience and mental fortitude probably wouldn’t have been able to endure such a high-intensity guard rotation without the support of the distributed potion.

So his comrade was right. As long as it didn’t kill you, no matter how severe the side effects… they were something to be endured after the shift ended, when you were back in the Barracks to rest.

Thinking of this, Hick took a deep breath, pulled the tin box from his waist, and pinched out a pill, which he popped into his mouth.

The moment the round pill entered his mouth, an extremely intense bitterness filled it. Hick quickly swallowed a large mouthful of water to wash the pill down. An acrid, herbal taste immediately welled up in his throat, making him gag involuntarily.

In the very next second, the soreness and stiffness in his shoulders, back, waist, and legs vanished. The dizziness from a sleepless night was swept away. He closed his eyes and opened them again… even his blurry vision, caused by fatigue, had cleared up considerably. Hick felt as if he had been reborn. Even if he had to face a ferocious non-human right now, he was fully confident he could strangle it to death.

His comrade’s playful teasing sounded in his ear, “How is it… Feel like you’ve become a transcendent being yourself?”

Chapter 786: Bloody Tug-of-War

The full-scale assault on Steelrock City had been raging for almost a week now.

With all the underground waterways in Rhino Horn City sealed, the offensive on the central front was drawing to a close… Under orders from Battalion Commander Wayne, the subsequent mopping-up operations against the remaining enemy forces were handed over to the Vengeance Resistance Army, which was active in the area.

The local Plainsmen, supplied by the regular army, began to formally take over subsequent combat operations from the Northern Army. Operating as small, dispersed guerrilla units, they were active in and around Rhino Horn City, patching up the long defensive line that had been riddled with holes until it was airtight once more.

Meanwhile, the main human frontline forces immediately redeployed to Steelrock City, dozens of kilometers away, relentlessly launching an incredibly difficult siege to assault the important city, which had been completely overrun by the non-human race.

When the assault on the city began five days ago, hundreds of Magical Energy Giant Cannons roared to life in unison, unleashing nearly ten thousand shells into the city without hesitation. This creeping barrage inflicted heavy losses on the Demonic Lizardmen entrenched within.

The two city gates, blasted open by the cannons, became exceptionally bloody killing zones. A continuous stream of enemies poured out from the city, only to have their lives reaped like a meat grinder by the alternating fire of Magical Energy Machine Guns and repeating rifles. The corpses of the non-human race piled high in the crossfire zones, creating a hellish sight that struck fear into the hearts of all who saw it, even in broad daylight.

Benny’s battalion had arrived just three days ago as the second wave of reinforcements. They were tasked with the arduous mission of defending the artillery positions, located a few kilometers outside Steelrock City, from enemy raids.

Since midnight yesterday, the Demonic Lizardmen had begun frequently dispatching large numbers of Winged ones. These fierce and death-defying creatures broke through the city gate defenses and pushed toward the artillery positions set up outside the city, attempting to destroy the clusters of heavy cannons that posed the greatest threat to them.

The Aerial Combat Mages piloting the floating Airships ascended to engage the enemy, but were immediately targeted by Spitter Worms. A massive volley of black crystalline spikes, blotting out the sky, concentrated their fire on the Airship formations. This left the Mages unable to fully intercept the Winged ones, allowing many of the enemy to break through to the rear of the battlefield.

The regular Demonic Lizardmen combat troops within the city also dug tunnels and trenches to bypass the artillery strikes and infiltrate outside the walls, charging the artillery positions like a tide.

As a result, the defense units in front of the artillery positions came under immense pressure.

To ensure the artillery could maintain continuous suppressive fire on the city, Benny’s combat department had to hold the line at all costs. They had to operate beam weapons to counter the raids from the sky while simultaneously repelling the enemies pouring out of the tunnels.

Nearly every soldier in the trenches was under enormous strain. The rest time for rotating defense among the various combat departments became increasingly stretched thin, shrinking from the original day-and-night rotation to a changeover every six hours.

Most soldiers coming off the front line couldn’t even be guaranteed five hours of rest. They could only hastily stuff a few mouthfuls of military rations into their mouths, replenish their weapons and ammunition, and head back to the fight.

The third wave of reinforcements scheduled to arrive from the rear was long overdue… The Ministry of Communications had tried to contact them multiple times to no avail. The only conclusion was that they had likely been ambushed near Transport Station No. 15 and would not be able to reach the vicinity of Steelrock City anytime soon.

Battalion Commander Wayne, in command of the battle, made a decisive call. He pulled back the operational battalions that were scattered outside the city, gradually redeploying them to the southwest city gates. This formed a pincer formation, capable of both offense and defense, allowing them to continue their fierce assault on the city while also bringing the surrounded artillery positions at their rear into the defensive range of their flanks.

With this, the original tactic of relying on long-range fire to destroy the enemy had completely devolved into a close-quarters battle between the human army and the non-human race.

…

“Agh!”

A soldier tumbled back from his firing position in the trench, clutching his left shoulder, which had been pierced by a crystalline spike, and groaning in pain.

Benny quickly emptied the magazine of his long rifle, then reached out and pulled the wounded soldier deeper into the trench. Two field medics hurried over, hunched low, and began deftly treating the man’s wound.

An injury of this level didn’t warrant being sent to the rear for treatment. Manpower for defending the artillery positions was already stretched thin. As long as a soldier hadn’t completely lost their ability to fight, they were expected to return to the combat zone after some simple first aid and bandaging.

Two more streaks of red lightning descended from the sky, slamming heavily into a section of the defensive line to the left. The explosion sent clumps of grass and dirt flying… The few Winged ones who had gathered and were hovering in the low sky didn’t even have a chance to attack again before they were locked onto by beam weapons from the ground.

Killed in an instant, the enemies crashed heavily to the ground, exploding in a shower of gore. Benny cautiously peeked his head out, raising his rifle to deliver a finishing blow, only to find the area for dozens of meters in front of the trench littered with the shattered corpses of the non-human race. A mix of red and black ichor flowed everywhere, a scene as terrifying as Purgatory itself.

The lateral trenches dug by the Northern Army intersected with the vertical tunnels excavated by the Demonic Lizardmen, forcing many human soldiers into direct confrontations with the enemy inside the trench cover. Many sections of the line even erupted into bayonet charges and close-quarters combat, and the ambulance teams didn’t even have time to collect the bodies of the fallen soldiers.

The defensive parapets, built high with sandbags, were densely studded with black crystalline spikes. This overwhelming rain of needles came partly from the Black Lizardmen and partly from the Spitter Worms they had dragged to the front lines.

Each time the thousands of Spitter Worms released their crystalline spikes, it was a life-or-death gamble for the Northern Army soldiers on the very front line. The hastily dug trenches, unlike a military base, lacked permanent defensive fortifications. When the rain of spikes came, the soldiers could only curl up as tightly as possible to reduce their target area, protecting their heads, faces, chests, and abdomens, and pray that Lady Luck would repeatedly smile upon them.

Clank!

With a sharp noise, a crystalline spike as thick as a finger struck the iron ammunition box next to Benny. It left a noticeable dent in the heavy, sturdy box before shattering into several flying crystal fragments.

Benny ducked his head instinctively. He felt something flick against his helmet, followed by a sharp pain in his forehead… Warm liquid immediately began to well up, and he realized he’d been cut by a fragment of the crystalline spike.

A cold sweat immediately broke out on his back… If that fragment had been just a little lower, it wouldn’t have been his forehead it cut, but his neck, a hundred times more vulnerable.

“Captain? Someone get over here! The Captain’s wounded!”

The sight of Benny’s face covered in blood scared the soldier next to him out of his wits. In his panic, he couldn’t tell where Benny was hurt, only that bleeding so much from a vital area like the head was a very bad sign.

“I’m fine… I’m fine, stop yelling!” Benny expertly pulled a roll of gauze from his belt pouch, hastily wrapped it around his forehead a few times, and then straightened his slightly crooked helmet. He rolled his eyes irritably. “Always shouting over nothing. Are you wishing for me to die or something?”

He was about to pick up the weapon that had fallen at his feet and return to his firing position…

When the Machine Gun Squad behind him suddenly fell silent.

“What’s going on? Is someone hurt?” Benny didn’t even think before turning his head and shouting, “What are you all staring at? Get someone to take over! Maintain suppressive fire for me, don’t stop!”

A soldier from the Machine Gun Squad scrambled over, hunched low, and grabbed Benny’s pant leg. “Captain, the machine gun is out of ammo!”

Benny froze. “Where’s the logistics team?”

“We haven’t seen anyone from logistics on this section of the line since this morning!”

Chapter 787: Defend to the Death

“Watch out, they’re charging again!”

A soldier at the front shouted, warning the comrades fighting alongside him to hold this section of the defensive line.

A few hundred meters away on the soft, damp grassland, hundreds of Black Lizard warriors armed with crystal spears and shields emerged once more. Using tunnels they had dug underground, they avoided the concentrated artillery fire and bypassed the first line of defense set up by the human army at the gates, breaking straight into the rear to launch a surprise attack directly on the artillery position.

The two Magical Energy Machine Guns nearby had fallen silent half an hour ago due to a lack of ammunition. The Logistics squad that was supposed to deliver supplies at dawn had yet to appear.

Benny even suspected that the entire rear area of the human position was under a surprise attack, which was why logistics and reinforcements had no time for them.

But no matter what, even without the fire support of the Magical Energy Machine Guns, they had to rely on themselves to hold back the enemy and defend this section of the line to ensure the safety of the artillery position.

The Demonic Lizardmen, crawling along the ground to dodge bullets, were gradually getting closer.

A few marksmen armed with sniper-type Magical Energy Guns opened fire first. Aided by high-powered scopes, they effortlessly picked off the most conspicuous enemy targets in their sights, each bullet finding a vital spot with pinpoint accuracy.

Immediately after, sporadic gunfire erupted from the ends of the trench. It was clearly the work of a few enemies trying to bypass the line and break through the flanks. Benny wasn’t worried about any mishaps… As long as those creatures came above ground, fully exposing themselves to the human soldiers’ line of sight, it was basically a death sentence.

He casually leaned out and fired a few shots, but his attention remained fixed on his front left… on a dilapidated section of the trench line where a large number of Demonic Lizardmen corpses lay. The group of soldiers originally fighting there had been almost entirely wiped out. It had happened when the enemy, by a stroke of luck, had tunneled right through and emerged directly inside the trench, forcing the soldiers to fix bayonets and engage in close combat, catching them completely off guard.

Since they had appeared there once, they would certainly try again.

After days of bloody, seesaw battles, the entire defensive force in front of the artillery position had long since lost its formal command structure. Most soldiers were operating in small groups or squads, holding their own sections of the trench.

As long as the magical energy heavy cannons behind them were still thundering, it meant their defensive line had not been breached.

…

And indeed, his experience and intuition did not let him down.

From the section of the trench he had been watching, over ten Black Lizard warriors suddenly leaped out. But they didn’t charge straight for the human line. Instead, they cautiously crawled on the ground, using the high pile of their own kind’s corpses for cover as they slowly moved toward another nearby section of the trench.

Obviously, they knew that the trenches dug by humans were connected by communication trenches. If they could successfully capture one section, they could use the cover of the trenches to fight their way through to the rear of the defensive line.

Unfortunately for them, their stealthy movements were completely exposed to Benny’s sight and the barrel of his gun.

He raised his long rifle, held his breath, and aimed at the fastest-moving target. The instant he pulled the trigger… the creature’s head exploded in a spray of blood and brain matter, and it collapsed to the ground, motionless.

Alerted by Benny’s opening shot, the other soldiers also spotted the enemy’s plan and immediately joined in, firing and killing the slow-moving creatures on the ground one by one.

The sky above, which had been quiet for a long time, was suddenly filled with the sound of rushing wind. A few battle-scarred Winged ones, who had seemingly escaped the Beam Weapons by a stroke of luck, came stumbling through the air. They were immediately met with anti-air fire from the artillery position and, in a panic, had no choice but to dive to the ground.

“Watch out for those Winged ones! They look like they can still fight!” Benny shouted, waving to the soldiers beside him. “Go help the others take them down. Don’t give the enemy a chance to breathe.”

The Winged ones’ blast of concentrated red light was the greatest threat to human soldiers, so when encountering a few isolated ones, the wisest strategy was to strike while they were wounded and finish them off.

Just in that short delay, by the time Benny turned his attention back… he was shocked to find that several of the Black Lizard warriors from that squad had already leaped into a nearby trench.

Not good!

Benny’s heart sank. He decisively lowered his rifle, got up, and, keeping low, sprinted toward the entrance of the communication trench that connected to that section.

After running just over a hundred meters, he could already hear a few gunshots and the furious, hoarse shouts of soldiers ahead.

It wasn’t the familiar sound of a Rapid-fire Magical Energy Gun, but of the revolvers issued to soldiers for close-quarters combat—these handguns were rarely used, mainly because soldiers seldom found themselves in face-to-face combat with the enemy. Plus, the revolver had a slow rate of fire and short range, and its honeycomb-like cylinder could only hold a pathetic five rounds, making its power far inferior to their standard long rifles.

In the narrow communication trench, several Northern Army soldiers lay scattered about. Two of them had been impaled by black crystal spears, pinned to the trench wall, while several others lay face down in pools of their own blood, apparently lifeless.

Without a second thought, Benny raised his weapon and fired a burst at an enemy standing with its back to him, knocking it down. He then ducked back around the corner of the passageway to change his magazine before pushing forward again.

As he walked, he subconsciously reached out to touch each fallen soldier he passed, lightly pressing his fingers to their carotid artery, hoping to find a comrade who still had a chance of being saved.

Unfortunately, fate was cruel…

When he reached the end of the passageway, he pushed aside the corpse of a Demonic Lizardman whose head had been blown off. Beneath it, he found a soldier. Although the soldier had a gash on his shoulder so deep the bone was visible, and his left leg had been severed below the knee by a black crystal blade, his eyes were still open… and his eyeballs slowly turned toward Benny as he approached.

“My God! You’re alive!” Benny knelt down and used his belt to tie off the severed limb to stop the bleeding. “You did well… You actually killed the enemies that broke into the trench in close combat!”

The young, wounded soldier tried to pull his lips into a smile, but he suddenly coughed up a great mouthful of blood, causing Benny’s nose to sting with emotion.

“S-Sir, can you give me… an extraordinary pill? I’ve… I’ve already used up my quota. It hurts so much… cough, cough!”

Benny felt his belt pouch, took out the small metal box containing the Short-acting Stimulants, and pinched out a pill to put into the wounded soldier’s mouth.

At a time like this, easing the man’s pain was the most important thing. There was no need to worry about overdosing.

“Wait!”

From the other end of the trench passageway, a soldier suddenly ran up. On his chest was an ensign’s insignia, the same rank as Benny’s. It seemed he had also heard the commotion and come alone to provide support.

“Don’t give him a stimulant for the pain. The kid is conscious, he can clearly be saved…”

Chapter 788: Recovering Supplies

Benny knew very well that taking a Short-acting Stimulant only temporarily suppressed the pain and weakness from an injury; it wasn’t a cure.

Once the drug wore off after a few hours, the delayed pain would come crashing back like a tidal wave. Even with prompt medical attention afterward, the patient’s suffering would be exponentially greater.

Besides, this young soldier’s injuries… no matter how you looked at it, they were beyond saving. There was no way he could be saved.

The gash on his shoulder hadn’t severed an artery. Though it was deep enough to expose bone, it wouldn’t be a problem to heal after being properly stitched up… But his leg had been chopped off at the knee, and even with a tourniquet, the bleeding wouldn’t stop. Based on experience, in less than fifteen minutes, he would go into shock from massive blood loss, and it would be very difficult to save him then.

“This kid’s… injuries.” Benny’s lips moved, but the words caught in his throat. He couldn’t bear to speak the truth in front of the soldier. “The ambulance team can’t possibly get here in time. What are you going to do?”

The unfamiliar ensign knelt down, carefully lifting the wounded soldier to slightly elevate his lower limb while keeping him flat on his back.

Then, he took out a potion in a glass vial from his belt pouch. He poured half into the soldier’s mouth and dripped the other half onto the gushing wound.

Benny was startled. “A New Life Potion?” he asked, astonished. “How would a regular officer be issued something like that?”

The ensign shook his head and explained in a low voice, “The ambulance team came by yesterday. I had them leave three doses for emergencies… It’s just a shame they didn’t leave any syringes. The healing effect would have been better if it could be injected directly.”

He looks like he’s barely thirty, but he knows so much… Benny was secretly amazed. Without a second thought, he also knelt down to help treat the soldier’s wound.

“Is anyone else alive in this section of the trench line?”

The young soldier was breaking out in a cold sweat from the pain. He gritted his teeth and struggled to speak, “I… I think it’s just me. I was lucky… only three enemies broke through here, and my fallen comrades killed them all.”

The ensign turned his gaze to Benny, who nodded back with a grave expression.

When Benny had rushed over to provide support, he had checked the condition of all the human soldiers along the way. There were indeed no other survivors.

“These damned non-humans, they actually dug through our trench… Many soldiers didn’t even have time to react before they were attacked by enemies bursting out from underground.”

Benny felt the ammunition pouch on his hip and asked, “The trench line I was in… has lost its ammunition supply from the rear. The machine guns have been silent for a long time, and the soldiers don’t have much spare ammo. At this rate, we can only hold out until nightfall.”

If the enemy continued to send troops to assault this line, they would soon be out of ammunition and supplies.

The ensign nodded, his expression also grim. “The section of the line I’m responsible for has also lost its supplies. The deployed Machine Gun Squads were attacked by Spitter Worms and lost their suppressive fire capabilities as well… But we absolutely cannot retreat and abandon the line without orders from command.”

As the two of them dressed the wound and commiserated, the young wounded soldier on the ground stared blankly for a moment before snapping out of it and stammering, “Sirs, the Logistics squad transporting ammunition… was attacked by Winged ones near the second communication trench entrance in Sector Three of the defensive line. Although the casualties were heavy… they left a lot of ammunition and supplies behind there.”

Benny and the ensign’s eyes widened. They asked in unison, “Really? How do you know?”

“The hundred-man unit I was in came as reinforcements with the Logistics squad. We just arrived in the combat zone a little earlier than them… that’s why we couldn’t go back to help them in time.”

The ensign slapped his thigh. “We’ll send soldiers immediately to recover the ammunition and supplies left there!” he said decisively.

Wasting no time, after moving the wounded soldier to a safe, defended area, they took advantage of a lull in the enemy’s assault. They each returned to their posts, gathered a few strong soldiers, and met back at the junction of the communication trenches.

Making their way back along the communication trench toward the rear positions, they discovered that multiple locations along the defensive line, which was less than 1.5 kilometers long, had been hit by enemy long-range attacks. Crystalline spikes as thick as a thumb were stuck everywhere, and some trenches were littered with fine crystal fragments.

The supply recovery squad spent a full fifteen minutes before they finally reached Sector Three of the defensive line, the location the wounded soldier had mentioned. They immediately spotted the ammunition boxes scattered at the entrance to the passageway.

“No wonder the logistics resupply was so late… The Winged ones must have destroyed this passageway.”

Benny and his men held up heavy steel shields, periodically crouching to protect their vital spots from a volley of crystalline spikes raining down from the sky.

The ensign, however, dashed to the pile of supplies and began inspecting it himself.

“Not bad. Besides machine gun ammunition belts, there’s also plenty of ammunition for the Portable Cannons… If we haul this back and distribute it, it’s enough to last us until dawn tomorrow.”

By then, the third wave of reinforcements from the rear should have arrived.

The problem now was… without the transport-type alchemical beasts that excelled at moving quickly through trenches, how were the five or six of them, with only four small handcarts with their handles removed, supposed to haul several hundred kilograms of ammunition and supplies back to the front line?

The Demonic Lizardmen could launch a new attack at any moment, and they didn’t have much time.

Just as they were at their wit’s end, a familiar, sharp whistle tore through the air above them. Everyone instinctively raised their shields, squatted down, and pressed themselves as close to the trench wall as possible, quickly protecting their vital areas.

After a series of clanging pings, Benny heard two muffled grunts beside him.

He turned his head… it was two of the soldiers who had come with them. They had been unlucky enough to have their hands and ankles, which were exposed outside their shields, pierced by crystalline spikes. They were gritting their teeth, clutching their wounds, and trembling.

“Quick! Stop the bleeding!”

The others held the two wounded men down, broke off the crystalline spikes embedded in them, and pulled them out. As they frantically applied hemostatic gel and bandages… three dark-skinned, hide-wearing non-humans suddenly rushed out from around a corner in the trench passageway ahead, swinging long blades condensed from black water as they charged straight for them.

The ensign reacted first. With no time to bring his long rifle from his back to bear, he instinctively drew the revolver from his hip and fired off all five rounds without aiming, immediately felling one of the enemies just as it was about to reach them.

Benny also snapped back to reality, shoved a stunned soldier beside him out of the way, and drew his own revolver to return fire.

The second non-human right behind was hit in the shoulder, but it remained fierce and unafraid of death, hurling its long blade. The weapon flew straight into the abdomen of a soldier who had just gotten to his feet.

The ensign ducked and dodged behind a stack of supply crates, narrowly avoiding a projected crystalline spike. He took down his long rifle and was about to fire back when… a bolt of red-light lightning as thick as an arm shot toward him.

The supply crates were blasted apart in an instant. A metal box full of Portable Cannon shells tumbled to the ensign’s feet, and a round shell fell out with a thud.

Another flash of red light suddenly shot toward them…

“Look out!” Benny yelled, throwing his entire body into the ensign and tackling him to the ground. Their momentum carried them, and they rolled several times into the side of the trench.

The next second, there was a deafening explosion!

Dirt and sand flew everywhere in the trench, and smoke billowed up. The artillery shell that had just fallen out had been instantly detonated.

Chapter 789: Close-Quarters Combat

Dust and smoke from the explosion filled the air. Benny struggled to his feet and saw the ensign he had been covering squinting, dazed and disoriented, groaning in pain.

The already battered trench had completely collapsed. Sand and gravel constantly trickled down on their heads. A large crater had been blasted into the spot in the trench where supplies had been stacked and scattered…

It was sheer luck that they were still alive. When the explosion had occurred, heavy supply crates had been right in front of them, absorbing the worst of the blast and shielding them from the scattered shrapnel that would have otherwise riddled them with holes.

“How are the others?” the ensign asked weakly, propping himself up. His face was pale. “Hiss! My ribs… I think they’re broken.”

A trickle of light pink foam from the corner of the ensign’s mouth made it clear that his broken ribs had likely punctured a lung.

The new wound on Benny’s forehead split open again, and trickles of blood ran down past his eyebrows. He was about to straighten up to check the situation… when he suddenly realized that of the three Demonic Lizardmen who had ambushed them, one was still alive on the other side of the trench!

It was the one that had been at the very back. Its two comrades in front had clearly shielded it from the bullets and the blast. Although an entire arm was missing, it didn’t seem to have lost its ability to move.

Seeing it slowly rise to its feet, hunched over, and painstakingly materialize a short blade of black crystal in its hand, Benny instantly understood its intention… The enemy was still combat-capable and intended to finish off every surviving soldier here.

His trusty long rifle was long gone, and he had just emptied his revolver. Given the Black Lizard warrior’s speed, it would never give him a chance to reload.

Benny had no time to hesitate. He immediately drew the bayonet from his belt, the one that mounted to the front of his long rifle.

This standard-issue military bayonet was as long as an adult’s forearm. Its hilt was foldable, and its blade had a blood groove on both sides. It gleamed with a cold, sharp light.

Gripping the bayonet with both hands, he held it vertically in front of his chest and assumed a thrusting stance he had practiced to perfection in daily training, his eyes locked on the enemy charging toward him.

For a soldier born a commoner, Benny no longer feared death.

Back home in Perch Town, he hadn’t starved to death when there wasn’t enough to eat, nor had he been worked to death by his employer’s exploitation.

He hadn’t been unfortunate enough to catch the Rotting Plague and die on the road while fleeing north.

After settling in the Northern Realm, he had survived the brutally cold winter that was rumored to freeze a man’s fingers off. He had fought in dozens of battles, large and small, clashing with nobles, the Church, vile orcs, and Demons.

And he hadn’t died!

He was always on the winning side!

So, even if he were to die here today… it wouldn’t be a loss!

In an instant, the enemy was upon him. With a swing of its single arm, it brought the black crystal blade slashing at his neck… If he failed to dodge, his head would be lopped clean off.

Benny threw his body backward, narrowly avoiding the lethal strike. Then, planting his hands on the ground, he kicked off with his feet and slid back along the ground for some distance, escaping the enemy’s reach before pushing himself up to stand again.

He silently thanked himself for taking a Short-acting Stimulant before setting out. Not only had it blocked out the pain and fatigue from the prolonged battle, but it had also made his reflexes and movements much more agile.

Of course… the Side Effect was the delusion that he could single-handedly defeat a non-human warrior in close-quarters combat.

Its first strike having missed, the Black Lizard warrior lunged forward again. Benny felt his body react faster than his mind. He held the bayonet horizontally and steadily blocked an overhead chop.

Clang—

The black crystal blade and the refined steel bayonet clashed, producing a piercing sound.

Unable to withstand the immense force, Benny’s knees buckled and he fell heavily to the ground. As the enemy continued to press down, he gritted his teeth and held on for dear life.

The web of his hand split from the excessive force, and blood ran into his palm, making his grip on the weapon slick.

Sparks flew as the metal ground together. The Demonic Lizardman suddenly retracted its force and flicked its blade upward, sending Benny’s bayonet flying. It landed with a clatter several meters away.

The sheer difference in physical strength between humans and non-human races was laid bare in that moment.

Another close-range slash came diagonally toward him. All Benny could do was dodge sideways from his half-kneeling position. The tip of the blade scraped from his shoulder down his entire chest. If not for the ammo pouches strapped to his front slightly impeding the blow, he would have been gutted on the spot.

Even so, a massive gash across his chest instantly gushed blood, completely soaking his mud-caked, dark-black military uniform.

Just as Benny thought he was done for, a gunshot rang out from behind him.

A stream of hot air grazed past his ear, and in the next instant, the enemy’s head exploded. Viscous, stinking, reddish-black ichor splattered all over his head and face.

The headless non-human twitched twice before collapsing to the ground with a thud.

When he came to his senses, Benny realized the ensign had saved his life in the nick of time.

After letting out a long sigh of relief, the Side Effect of the stimulant seemed to crash down on him like a tidal wave… Benny could no longer turn to check on his comrade. He fell backward, utterly spent.

The dirt in the trench rustled as the ensign struggled to crawl to his side.

“Cough, cough… cough! Benny?” A large hand cradled the back of his neck. “Stay awake! I’m going to stop the bleeding now!”

Benny opened his mouth, tasting only the coppery sweetness of blood. “Give me another Short-acting Stimulant… It hurts so much…”

“No, you’ve had enough already…”

The ensign’s face was grim, his gaze firm as he shook his head.

“Hah… really, you just won’t let me die in peace, will you, Ensign… I don’t even know your name.”

“Pascal. Pascal Nielson.” The ensign gritted his teeth against his own injuries, half-squatting to pull Benny’s upper body into his arms. His bloodstained hands began to fumble with his military belt pouch.

The New Life Potion and tourniquets were all gone.

“Good name…” Benny blinked, his eyelids growing heavier and heavier. “You even have a surname. Tsk… You must come from a decent family.”

“I want to eat the perch chowder from my hometown…”

“And white bread baked with the new winter wheat from the Northern Realm. It must taste amazing soaked in the soup…”

Benny’s dying rambles flowed into Nielson’s ears like the mutterings of a drunkard, but they didn’t stop the two streams of golden radiance that suddenly rose from his palms.

He cupped his hands together and slowly pressed the golden light onto the massive wound on Benny’s chest. He smoothed his hands over it as if ironing out a wrinkle in paper. The torn flesh instantly sealed and knitted itself back together, and the gushing blood stopped at once.

“You… you!” Benny’s eyes shot open as he cried out in shock. “You’re… from the Church… a cler—”

“Shut up!” Nielson hissed. “Save your strength. At least hold on until I can get you to the field hospital.”

His expression was exceptionally complicated now, and a self-deprecating, bitter smile touched his lips. “You have to survive first if you want to report me to the higher-ups, don’t you?”

Chapter 790: A Moment’s Respite

When Benny woke up again, he was lying in an empty tent.

It was noisy outside, with many people seeming to be bustling about. An occasional high-pitched shout could be heard… Combined with the strong smell of disinfectant alcohol wafting into his nostrils, Benny knew he was in the field infirmary.

He tentatively tried to move his body, but the next second, every muscle erupted with a severe, aching soreness. A sharp, stabbing pain shot out from the joints between his bones, making him cry out involuntarily.

Without a doubt… this was the true side effect of frequently taking Short-acting Stimulants.

The torment wasn’t fatal, but there was no way to alleviate it. He could only grit his teeth and endure.

The ghastly wound across his chest had mostly healed. Benny knew very well… this was not the work of the military doctors, but the masterpiece of Ensign Neil, the man who secretly hid his identity as a Church Priest while serving as a low-ranking officer in the Northern Army.

“That guy didn’t take the chance while I was seriously injured and unconscious to just run off, afraid his identity would be exposed, did he…”

Just as he was muttering to himself, the tent flap was suddenly pulled open, and Ensign Neil walked in, limping on a crutch.

“You’re awake? How are you feeling?”

Benny didn’t answer. Instead, he subconsciously reached out to feel around the bedside, but unfortunately, there was no handy weapon for self-defense.

Neil saw this and couldn’t help but snort. “What? You don’t think I came to silence you, do you? Wouldn’t it have been easier to just leave you in the trench to die? I think you’ve taken too many stimulants and fried your brain.”

God only knew that Neil himself had broken ribs and an injured lung, and his knee and ankle had been pierced by shrapnel from an explosion, bleeding nonstop. To get Benny to the rear for treatment, he had dragged a cart, practically crawling for over half a kilometer.

Just when he was about to give out, he happened to run into the second supply group that had braved the danger to transport materials. That was how both of them were saved from a desperate situation.

Benny coughed awkwardly, the movement pulling at his wound and distorting his face in pain.

“I’m grateful that you saved me… but business is business. I will still report the matter of you hiding your Church background to the Sir.”

Neil plopped down on the edge of the stretcher bed and shrugged nonchalantly. “I have no objection. I never intended to hide my identity forever from the start.”

He paused, his relaxed expression suddenly turning grave. He looked at Benny seriously and said, “But I have a request… can you wait until this battle is completely over before you report me?”

Huh?

Benny was stunned for a moment, then asked in confusion, “You still plan to go to the front lines? With those injuries… wait! Aren’t you afraid of me exposing you? Fabricating an identity to deceive the Department of Military Affairs’ review is a serious crime. You’d be sent to a military tribunal. Those Military Police from the Military Law Department are no pushovers.”

Neil chuckled and shook his head. “His Majesty the Emperor long ago pardoned the past crimes of the Church’s Moderate Faction, as long as they are willing to join St. Valen and fight alongside you against the non-human races… In a way, this is atoning for past sins with meritorious service.”

“That may be so… but aren’t all the Priests and clerics sent by the Church serving in the Battlefield Medical Center? Why would you give up the safer post of a military doctor to risk your life on the front lines?”

Benny couldn’t understand the other man’s intentions at all. He could only think that the person who had really fried their brain on stimulants was probably this Ensign Neil, who seemed to come from a good background… or perhaps he should call him Cleric Neil.

Seeing the strange look on his face, Neil patiently explained, “I was originally just an ordinary high priest at the monastery in northern Goris. On the eve of the non-human calamity’s invasion of the Holy City, I happened to be entrusted to go to a small village in the Liyade countryside to treat someone for a fever. Although I escaped the disaster… all of my closest friends and colleagues died at their hands. A great fire burned the monastery to the ground. I didn’t even have a chance to collect their remains and hold a Requiem Mass.”

He recounted this slowly, his expression calm, but a bone-deep hatred gradually seeped into his eyes.

“If I just answer His Majesty’s call and hide behind the battlefield treating the wounded… it won’t be enough to dispel my hatred for these monsters. If I can’t strangle them one by one with my own hands and drive them back to the far northern barren lands, I’m afraid I’ll never be able to face my own heart for the rest of my life, and I’ll have completely abandoned the faith I’ve held onto.”

Heart… faith…

Benny, who had been listening silently, immediately caught the two important “keywords.” He jolted as if he’d been shocked, his face hardening as he said angrily, “Don’t you dare mention any Church faith in front of me. That is something His Majesty has strictly forbidden… Don’t you know that?”

Neil was speechless. He rolled his eyes and scoffed, “What His Majesty strictly forbids is public preaching in the army! He doesn’t forbid soldiers from having personal beliefs in private. Do you think I can’t recite the disciplinary regulations from cover to cover? The newly revised third edition, at that…”

Well now, I almost forgot this “holy roller” is an educated man.

Benny, embarrassed again, shut his mouth and quickly changed the subject to cover up his overreaction. “How long was I out? What’s the situation on the front lines?”

A cup of water was immediately offered to him, but he couldn’t muster an ounce of strength to take it. Neil had to support Benny’s head with one hand and feed him the water, a slightly disgusted look on his face.

“You’ve been unconscious for the better part of a day. The supply group has already reached the front, and the third wave of reinforcements arrived two hours ago. By now, the soldiers from your battalion headquarters have probably all been rotated out to rest.”

Benny breathed a sigh of relief. He had just swallowed a mouthful of water when his stomach suddenly churned violently. He turned his head and began to vomit intensely over the side of the bed.

A patrolling nurse heard the commotion, pushed aside the tent flap, and walked in. “I’ve told you all repeatedly not to overdose on Short-acting Stimulants. Three pills in twelve hours, I see you really don’t value your life…”

Snot and tears covered Benny’s face. He nodded repeatedly, his expression pained. “Doctor, is there anything to relieve this? Even a shot of anesthetic would do. I feel worse than death right now.”

A moment ago, it was just the aching in his muscles and bones. Now, all his internal organs felt like they were churning. On top of the intense nausea, his brain felt as if someone had reached inside and was stirring it rapidly, making him incredibly dizzy.

The sturdy nurse walked to the bedside with a stern face and pushed him back down onto the bed. “There’s no way to relieve it, you can only endure,” she said expressionlessly. “Until the stimulant’s side effects wear off, even an anesthetic strong enough to knock out a Camel-ox won’t have any effect on you.”

Neil leaned close to Benny’s ear and whispered, “The anesthetic won’t work, so maybe I can just punch you… knock you out and you’ll be fine. Don’t underestimate me just because I’m a Priest. I’ve actually been pretty good at fighting since I was a kid. I was almost selected for the Army of Judgment knight order when I came of age.”

Chapter 791: Logistical Support

“Fifty boxes of dried wheat cakes, twenty boxes of canned salted meat, frozen camel curd…”

Wood stood with one foot propped on the edge of a wagon, a thick cargo manifest tucked under his arm. He was intently counting the neatly stacked goods… These food supplies were to be sent immediately to the front lines by the transport team.

Holmes strode over, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He whistled at Wood and tossed him a palm-sized paper packet.

“‘Victory Brand’ Herbal Cigarettes? Well, I’ll be! This is a new model just released by the capital’s cigarette factory. Where did you get them?”

Holmes chuckled smugly. “The army increased our supply quota. What do you think? The treatment’s a lot better than our last transport mission, right?”

Having lived in the capital for nearly three months, Wood had also “unfortunately” picked up the bad habit of smoking from his local colleagues. Hearing this, he naturally broke into a grin, pleased with their currently generous treatment.

A short, stocky logistics officer hurried over. He moved nimbly, inspecting the long line of cargo carts before gesturing for Wood and Holmes to come over.

“This convoy isn’t fully loaded yet. There are some last-minute additions you’ll need to take with you.”

Before the two could react, several logistics soldiers herded a flock of sheep into the transport team’s camp.

“Live sheep? What’s going on?” Wood was stunned. “Where did the Main Logistics Office at Wolf Fang Ridge Pass get this livestock? Are we supposed to haul them all to the front lines?”

It was common knowledge that the St. Valen army treated its people well. Whether they were soldiers fighting on the front lines or staff in logistics, their material allocations were always abundant… They never lacked for weapons and ammunition, two seasons’ worth of uniforms, medicine, or rations.

From time to time, luxury goods were even distributed, with batches of battlefield “hard currency” like tobacco and candy arriving to unanimous praise from the front-line soldiers.

But fresh, live meat… just the thought of it seemed far too extravagant!

Although Wood had never served in the army, he knew how difficult it was to supply fresh food to the front lines during a war. Their “outsourced” transport teams, hastily recruited by the military, often had to carefully allocate their precious transport capacity to move artillery and ammunition.

Seeing their confused expressions, the logistics officer smiled and explained patiently, “This livestock didn’t come from the border pass. They were raised right here on the southeastern grasslands, a gift from the local herdsmen.”

Local herdsmen?

The grasslands southeast of Isengard were typically where herdsmen from the central and northern regions would drive their great herds south as autumn approached, seeking a slightly warmer place to protect their livestock through the harsh winter.

“These herdsmen traveled south all the way here under the protection of the Northern Army…” The logistics officer’s tone was filled with unconcealable pride. “The non-human races are running rampant in the north. The herdsmen fled here with their families. If it weren’t for the army, they would have long since been plundered by the local nobles and bandits.”

“So… out of gratitude to the St. Valen army, the herdsmen chiefs took the lead in donating many healthy cattle and sheep to us. They hope we’ll transport this fresh meat back to the central front, so they can contribute, in some small way, to the soldiers bravely fighting the non-human races.”

Wood and Holmes exchanged a glance, momentarily at a loss for words.

For the herdsmen of the grasslands, their herds were more important than their own lives. During the earlier rescue and evacuation missions, many had been unwilling to abandon their cattle and sheep to retreat alone. No matter how much the officials in charge of evacuating the refugees tried to persuade them, the most they would do was drive their herds to follow the transport teams from a distance, making the southward journey sick with worry.

But now, these same people, once considered “ignorant folk who valued money over their lives,” had turned around and offered their precious cattle and sheep to the army.

The logistics officer patted a plump sheep that had been driven near him, sighing with emotion. “It’s not just the cattle and sheep. Some of the merchant guilds that fled from the fallen territories in the central region have also offered us aid… The fresh fruits and vegetables you’ve been eating in the logistics mess hall lately? They sold them to us at a reduced price.”

Wood’s heart skipped a beat. He was suddenly reminded of the overwhelming propaganda slogans he had heard from the government back in the capital—this war against the northern non-human races wasn’t just the responsibility and duty of the Valen people, nor would it be confined to the Northern Barren Lands and Isengard… Its outcome would decide the future of the entire human race, a choice between the survival of their species and its extinction.

Therefore, whether it was the blood debts of personal family feuds or the fall of a single city or nation… all of it was merely an insignificant consequence in the tide of this war of destiny.

This was a war concerning all of humanity, and it required the combined efforts, contributions, and sacrifices of all their human brethren.

“Pan-Human United Front…” Wood muttered under his breath. It seemed that only now was he beginning to grasp the true meaning of that slogan.

He had originally been driven only by revenge for his family… but now it seemed that what he was doing might be far more important than he had ever imagined.

…

Glow-grass Town, the Northern Army’s logistics and transit base.

Dozens of transport airships slowly descended onto the newly leveled landing field. Sai Ke and the others were the first to step out of the passenger gondolas, standing in place and looking around.

“We must be close to the front lines in central Isengard now, right?”

Bale also stood his ground, squinting as he took a deep breath. “Ah… the familiar smell of home. I’m finally back!”

“The smell of home… what’s that? Cow and horse dung?” Santas and Gregor, following close behind, immediately teased him.

“What do you southerners know!” Bale rolled his eyes, then continued on Sai Ke’s topic. “Glow-grass Town is over fifty kilometers from Isengard’s southeastern border. From here, it’s only half a day by airship to Burning Wind Fortress pass, so we’re still a long way from the front.”

Commander Dean stepped off another airship and frowned at the four of them. “What are you standing around for? Get your squads assembled. We’re only stopping here for one night to let the soldiers rest… We set out for our final destination first thing tomorrow morning: the front-line garrison at Wind-Eroded Ridge!”

The men answered in unison, then turned to gather the soldiers in their respective formations.

Sai Ke slowed his pace, falling behind to walk beside Dean. He asked in a low voice, “Instructor, when will our Demon Armor be delivered?”

Dean paused for a moment, then chuckled knowingly. “What’s wrong? Feeling insecure without your Demon Armor nearby?”

Sai Ke nodded. As a Starfire Warrior who had gradually adapted to combat, he had come to feel that the Magicalized Armor was not just an external shell or a piece of weaponry… It was like a symbiotic part of his own body, an extension of his own flesh and blood.

If it weren’t for the need to eat and carry out daily life, which required him to leave the armor, he would be reluctant to ever part with the massive suit he had grown so accustomed to.

Chapter 792: Bombing

“Sir, the artillery has finished cooling down. All artillery crews request permission to resume firing!”

Lynx nodded and decisively gave the order, “Permission to fire. Three rounds of progressive saturation fire!”

Less than a minute after the command was issued, the entire artillery position opened fire once more. The battlefield, which had been silent for most of the night, roared back to life, the whistle of shells tearing through the sky like peals of thunder.

Loading shells, turning the handwheel to calibrate the firing angle, disengaging the safety, firing the cannon…

A deep hum suddenly rang out…

A scorching blast of air erupted from the muzzle at high speed, and the shell, its trajectory nearly invisible to the naked eye, shot toward the city like a bolt of lightning.

The entire process was incredibly smooth. The four-man artillery crew worked in perfect coordination. If not for the need to prevent the barrels from overheating and causing a barrel explosion, they could have unleashed three to five shells on the enemy’s position every minute.

This was a true long-range firepower sweep tactic.

Battalion Commander Wayne had also arrived at the artillery position, having moved the command post directly from the rear area transport station to the front lines.

“The bomber airship formation departed from Wind-Eroded Ridge three hours ago. They are expected to arrive at Steelrock City in another hour.” Staff officer Ross gazed at the map spread across the table, his tone tinged with excitement. “As long as we maintain suppressive fire, once the aerial units arrive… we can replicate the indiscriminate bombing we carried out on the Church’s Holy City, Goris!”

Wayne frowned and pondered for a moment. “This new type of aerial bomb brought from the rear… can it really effectively kill the enemies hiding in the underground waterways, through thick stone bricks, soil, and layers of piled-up rubble?”

Ross nodded, explaining with considerable confidence, “This new type of aerial bomb is called the Gelled Incendiary Bomb. It doesn’t kill enemies with the shockwave from an explosion, but rather uses high temperatures to create effective area-of-effect damage.”

Although the Demonic Lizardmen often use flammable black water to set fires and destroy human cities, they are still fundamentally vulnerable to flames… This non-human race, born from the ice sea, needs to frequently immerse their husks in water to keep them moist. If they become too dry, their husks will easily crack, losing their vitality and hindering their movement.

“The impressive thing about this incendiary bomb is that it doesn’t need any accelerant. Once detonated, it can burn fiercely even on stone. After igniting an entire area… the resulting high temperatures are enough to make the city’s buildings and ground harden and crack, turning the underground waterways into a cauldron of boiling water!”

This also meant that in order to reclaim Steelrock City from the Demonic Lizardmen… the Northern Army would need to drop enough gelled incendiary bombs to turn the entire city’s surface into a sea of hellfire. The magnificent city, which had stood in the middle of the grasslands for nearly a century, would be all but razed to the ground.

“The local Resistance fighters engaging in guerrilla warfare within the city were notified three days ago. They have now withdrawn one after another, and the front lines have sent people to link up with them.”

Wayne nodded in acknowledgment, then paused and asked again, still worried, “The main entrances to the underground waterways that these local Resistance forces provided us—have their coordinates been verified? Once the Airship formation begins the air raid, these areas will be key targets. There can be no mistakes.”

“Don’t worry, Battalion Commander! The locations of these waterway entrances were paid for with the lives of those Resistance fighters. In this regard, they want the non-human monsters in the city wiped out even more than we do.”

In the face of an unrelenting blood feud, they were willing to sacrifice the city they had called home their entire lives.

…

An hour later, the eagerly awaited bomber airship formation appeared on schedule in the sky south of Steelrock City.

Battalion Commander Wayne took the receiver of the alchemical communicator, and a familiar voice came through.

“This is Airship Formations One, Two, and Three of the Aerial Combat Mage Independent Regiment. Commander, we have entered the combat airspace and will arrive at the designated bombing location in ten minutes!”

Wayne subconsciously nodded and said in a low voice, “Received. Ground forces are maintaining suppressive fire, but there are still many Winged ones in the city that will come out to intercept you. You must be careful.”

It was impossible for a bombing battalion of three hundred floating Airships to launch a surprise attack and catch the enemy off guard. On the vast, flat grasslands, even a single bird flying across the sky would draw everyone’s attention.

Therefore, Wayne had simply laid his strategic intentions bare. First, he used nearly a week of positional warfare to wear down the enemy’s ground troops, while simultaneously using long-range fire to draw the attention of their Winged ones, forcing them to leave the city and engage the Northern Army… This way, by the time the bombing officially began, the enemy’s aerial forces would already be greatly weakened.

Before the call ended, the command post could already see a large number of dark shadows rising from Steelrock City. After converging in the air, they swarmed toward the airship formation’s position.

“A swarm of annoying flies!” The Son of Flame cut off his communication with Wayne and, expressionless, switched the channel to the formation’s internal network. “All units, listen up. Enemy Winged ones are approaching. Maintain speed… and proceed with the bombing mission as planned!”

The airship formation’s positioning was perfectly standard. Two hundred high-speed airships flanked the left and right, protecting the one hundred bomber airships positioned in the center-rear. They soared through the sky in an inverted triangle formation, heading straight for the oncoming Winged ones.

When the two sides were still several hundred meters apart, the ship-mounted beam weapons, which had a longer range, opened fire first.

Gleaming white energy beams shot out from the front of the airships like points of starlight. The combined volley seemed to weave a giant net of light in the sky. The Winged ones at the forefront, like moths to a flame, crashed into it and were instantly reduced to dust.

This was where the advantage of the high-speed airships became apparent. Thanks to their superior speed over the Winged ones, the airship formations on the flanks quickly elongated their lines, forming an arc that enveloped the Winged ones’ battle group in the center. Leveraging their superior firepower and weaponry, they launched a merciless attack on their targets.

Meanwhile, the bomber airship formation, which had been at the rear, quietly and rapidly gained altitude, slipping into the clouds to conceal its movements. It bypassed the low-altitude firefight below and flew toward the nearby Steelrock City.

“Formation Three has reached the designated bombing zone. Requesting permission to commence bomb run!”

“Prioritize planned attack coordinates. You are cleared to drop your bombs!”

Once the bombing order was given, the one hundred floating Airships immediately dispersed and reformed into several V-formation attack patterns, dropping their heavy new aerial bombs on the city below as they flew over in sequence.

The instant the Gelled Incendiary Bombs slipped from their external bomb bays, their center of gravity caused their massive warheads to plummet straight down.

The first to be hit was a cluster of castle-like buildings by the water. Several aerial bombs pierced through the roofs of the damaged structures and smashed inside, instantly erupting into scorching pillars of fire that shot into the sky. The entire building collapsed in on itself, and dust and debris rose into the air as the ground trembled violently.

Looking down from the sky, the cluster of buildings that had just been bombed was still engulfed in raging flames. The fire was growing stronger and even seemed to be spreading to the surrounding area.

Update Schedule Announcement

According to the original plan and outline, the story will conclude within approximately two million characters.

Starting in July, my day job has become very busy. Frequent business trips make it impossible for me to maintain a stable update schedule. I’m reminded of this time last year when I had just started the book; I was also too busy to write, but fortunately, I had nearly one hundred thousand characters of stockpiled drafts to see me through.

Going forward, updates will be irregular, so I won’t be posting a separate announcement to ask for leave each time. Thank you for your understanding!

Chapter 793: Scorched City

A dozen plumes of grayish-black smoke rose from Steelrock City, particularly striking under the pale sunlight. Even the Northern Army, fighting the non-human race at the city gates, could clearly see the huge commotion created by the Airship formation.

Several designated bombing zones were engulfed in a sea of flames. Under the impact of the blast waves from the explosions, large numbers of already dilapidated buildings collapsed with a roar. Raging fires ignited among the broken walls and ruins. A large amount of viscous gel spewed from the incendiary bombs, clinging to the bricks and stones and continuing to burn fiercely even without any accelerant.

After the first wave of bombing, the second formation quickly reached its designated target—a square with a water collection point in Steelrock City’s inner city. The drainage channel beneath it was one of the main waterway entrances connecting to the underground rivers.

Days ago, the magical energy heavy cannons outside the city had already bombarded this important coordinate multiple times. Numerous highly penetrative solid shells had thoroughly plowed through this area. The huge fountain sculpture originally built in the center of the square had long been reduced to dust, and the entire square had been bombed into a large crater with an uneven bottom.

After a few incendiary bombs were precisely dropped, the area below immediately erupted like water splashing into vats of oil. A large number of Demonic Lizardmen hiding in the ruins and underground passages were forced by the scorching heat to scurry like rats. Some panicked and plunged headfirst into the sea of flames, while others instinctively tried to retreat back into the underground waterways.

Unfortunately, they had greatly underestimated the sustained power of the Gelled Incendiary Bombs. Under the massive bombing from the airship formation, the closer the waterways and ditches were to the surface, the more they resembled boiling soup pots. The monsters had barely submerged themselves in the water before their bodies began to convulse violently and they resurfaced. After flailing for a few moments, their skin and flesh rotted, and they fell still.

Some bombs that slightly missed their targets landed in the surrounding clusters of buildings. They detonated from the inside out, causing deflagrations. Scorching red flames spewed from the doors and windows of the houses, which at a glance, looked like towering furnaces.

With the rapid evaporation of the underground water sources, a thin layer of steam and mist filled the sky over more than half the city, making it difficult for the Winged ones, who were attempting to take to the air and intercept the humans, to lock onto the bomber airships.

The entire city seemed to be utterly ablaze.

Meanwhile, the artillery units on the ground were also keeping up the pressure.

Another dense artillery volley. A large number of shells slammed into the towering outer city walls, with a small portion flying over the wall and landing directly inside the city.

Attacked from both inside and out, the battered city wall, which had stood firm for several days amidst the flames of war, finally ended its nearly century-long mission. It collapsed with a thunderous roar amid the deafening cannon fire, and a massive breach over ten meters wide opened up at the city gate.

Toot—toot—toot—

A clear bugle call resounded across the human army’s front lines.

Amidst the swirling smoke, twenty armored artillery vehicles slowly crossed the line of fire, heading straight for the breach in the city wall.

Many Demonic Lizardmen still lingering near the city gate immediately retaliated. A barrage of black crystalline spikes mixed with dozens of bolts of red-light lightning shot toward them, immediately striking the armored artillery vehicles leading the charge.

Unfortunately, these wheeled vehicles, which looked cumbersome and slow and were fitted with several layers of protective steel plates, were far too sturdy. They effortlessly blocked the crystalline spikes. Even the more powerful red-light lightning only left a few scorch marks on the outermost layer of armor plating.

The traversing mount on the vehicle’s roof clanked as it turned, and the artillery cannon’s muzzle swiveled rapidly, quickly locking onto the attacking enemies.

BOOM—

The cannon muzzle on the armored vehicle’s roof spewed a scorching blast of air. The shell, moving too fast for the naked eye to follow, became a phantom, streaking like lightning toward the enemy less than a hundred meters away.

Almost in the next second, a column of dirt and sand erupted at the shell’s point of impact. The bodies of several Demonic Lizardmen combat troops standing nearby were instantly blown to pieces. Along with them, even the hard bricks and stones of the surrounding buildings were shattered.

The close-range direct fire from the armored artillery was difficult to withstand, even with several layers of Black Crystal Shields stacked together.

Seeing this, two Winged ones hiding in the crevices of the broken wall beat their wings and swooped down. Since they couldn’t break through the armored vehicle’s protection with external force, they planned to get close to the target and find a way to directly destroy the most threatening part—the artillery cannon itself.

Unfortunately, the Magical Energy Machine Guns mounted on the top and sides of the armored vehicle immediately foiled their plan. The moment the dense gunfire erupted, a hail of bullets tore the Winged ones to shreds in mid-air.

Similar battle scenes were unfolding almost simultaneously at the outer city gates in all four directions of Steelrock City.

“Ksshh—ksshh—Armored formation, attention! You only need to occupy the breach at the city gate and clear out all enemies in that area. Ksshh—Do not advance too deep…”

Wayne put down the communicator in his hand. Standing outside the command post on a high slope outside the city, he gazed from afar at the blazing Steelrock City. The “Scorch the City” plan he had personally devised had produced an effect that surprised even him.

Just one thousand Gelled Incendiary Bombs had nearly burned the entire inner city of Steelrock to the ground. The raging fire was even showing signs of spreading to the outer city. Not only had the Demonic Lizardmen occupying the city suffered a devastating blow, but even the Northern Army, which had planned to advance from the four city gates, was now hindered by the situation. They didn’t dare enter the city, which had now turned into a giant furnace.

“The Staff Department miscalculated the results of the bombing operation… which has, in turn, affected the ground troops’ advance,” Staff Officer Ross said apologetically to the Commander, standing behind Wayne.

Wayne shook his head and gave a low, self-deprecating chuckle. “It doesn’t matter. Just as His Majesty said… if the final outcome is more or less what we want, the process to get there isn’t important.”

The underground rivers of the abyss beneath Steelrock City were a military blind spot that the human army could not possibly enter. To stop the Demonic Lizardmen’s Floating Island fortress from entrenching itself here and continuously sending forces to the surface… the only way was to completely destroy the entire city, sealing off all potential surface landing points the enemy could use to emerge.

This was the exact same operational plan used when dealing with the enemy beneath the Holy City Goris.

The only difference was that the weapons carried by the aerial units had been switched from the high-explosive aerial bombs of the past to Gelled Incendiary Bombs, which had higher kill efficiency and greater coverage.

After successfully capturing the four city gates with the armored vehicle formations, all that was needed was to quickly establish a defensive line at the gates, firmly guarding the only exits the enemy could use to retreat from the city. What came next… was simply to wait for this monstrous fire to run its course, burning to cinders all the enemies in the city who hadn’t managed to dive back down and escape in time.

Wayne gazed at the scorching red glow that seemed to illuminate half the sky and murmured, “This fire will probably burn for three full days and nights.”

Chapter 794: Black Cat, White Cat

Thanks to receiving timely treatment, Benny’s originally fatal injuries had mostly healed after just three days.

A steady stream of wounded soldiers arrived from the front lines. To make room for those in greater need, he was, unsurprisingly, quickly moved to the recovery area’s tents, crammed into a large barracks with dozens of other lightly wounded soldiers in the same situation.

Being able to get up and walk meant he could move about freely.

The food at the Field Hospital was much better than elsewhere. In addition to the standard three meals a day, there were two extra nutritional supplements. He had no idea how they managed to get fresh fruits, vegetables, and meat to the front lines.

The stitches on the massive wound on his chest had been completely removed, but the itching from his flesh knitting back together made Benny so uncomfortable he couldn’t sit still. He couldn’t bear to just lie on his stretcher, so he took to walking back and forth through the rear barracks.

He wandered without realizing it to the temporary post of his own battalion headquarters and ran into his comrades who had just rotated off the front lines.

“Captain! Are your wounds already healed?”

“So fast? Those field doctors are incredible!”

“We heard you single-handedly killed a Demon Lizard combat soldier with a bayonet. Is that true?”

Benny silently looked at the crowd of soldiers gathering around him and noticed many new faces in his hundred-man unit. He wasn’t surprised by this. Once on the front lines, casualties were inevitable. As the largest troop transit station in the rear, Highland City would continuously send over newly recruited soldiers, who would be broken up and assigned to grassroots combat units. This way, every new recruit heading to the front could be supported by experienced veterans.

His only comfort was that a few familiar faces from the Machine Gun Squad and the Sniper Squad—the young men he had led since his promotion to Company commander—had survived the recent bloody battles.

Benny spoke apologetically, “I was trying to get some emergency ammunition for you all. I didn’t expect to almost get myself killed out there…”

A few veterans smiled and offered words of comfort. “We all thought you’d been killed. Everyone was fired up for revenge… The remaining soldiers in the unit joined up with Ensign Neil’s nearby Company and gave the next wave of attacking enemies a fierce beating, holding out until the logistics team finally arrived at nightfall.”

It was clear that most of them had thought they wouldn’t make it, fighting on with the mentality of perishing together with the enemy… To receive reinforcements when they were out of food and ammunition could only be attributed to sheer luck.

That guy Neil…

Hearing that name, the great weight that had been pressing on Benny’s heart seemed to shift and loosen.

Without a doubt, this ensign, who had hidden his identity as a Church Priest and fabricated information to enlist, had seriously violated military regulations.

If Benny went to the Military Law Department to report him right now, a squad of fierce-looking Military Police would immediately rush to Neil’s battalion headquarters, slap him in cuffs, and haul him away without a word.

But… did he really need to do that?

He looked at the crowd of soldiers before him, at the many new faces… high-bridged noses, deep-set eyes, and slightly curly hair—the typical appearance of a Plainsman. The rolled-up sleeves of their uniforms clearly revealed the Church follower tattoos on their wrists.

His Majesty and the Kingdom’s government… didn’t seem to object to these devout followers of the Church joining the army. And the other soldiers from St. Valen itself showed almost no signs of discrimination or ostracism.

Thinking of this, he couldn’t help but ask, “Is Ensign Neil’s battalion headquarters also stationed near our Barracks?”

…

Field Hospital, Emergency Center.

Dozens of medical tents stood in rows. Military doctors in long white robes hurried in and out, while ambulance teams jogged, carrying the wounded just brought back from the front.

“Open wound, grade three bleeding… airway is clear, patient is conscious.” Simmons grabbed the triage tag hanging from the soldier’s wrist, muttering to himself as his hands moved without pause. “We can proceed directly to hemostasis and suturing. Take him over to the surgical alchemical beast to wait.”

“Wait!” Wylan, who was beside him, suddenly raised a hand to stop him. He flipped over the tag on the soldier’s wrist, revealing a hastily scrawled note. “Patient reports taking one dose of Short-acting Stimulant three hours ago. After being wounded an hour ago, he took another dose due to blood loss and severe pain… Simmons, I’m afraid he can’t undergo anesthetized surgery.”

Simmons frowned immediately, asking with some uncertainty, “What if we suture him directly without an anesthetic potion?”

Before Wylan could answer, a doctor’s assistant nearby replied, “Suturing a wound this severe could send him into shock from the intense pain. Then we’d have no choice but to risk using a New Life Potion to save him.”

The New Life Potion’s nourishing effect on the soul was indeed effective enough to bring someone back from the brink of death, but its side effects were also significant… Moreover, the quota sent to the front lines was being used up quickly, so it wasn’t typically used unless a soldier was in critical condition.

Besides, the New Life Potion only rapidly stimulated the growth of flesh at the wound site; it had no effect on internal injuries. If the soldier couldn’t overcome internal infections and the accompanying high fever, he would ultimately suffer from recurring injuries and be unable to fully recover for a long time.

As the three of them rapidly discussed treatment options, the soldier on the stretcher let out a pained groan and spoke up. “Doctor… cough, cough, don’t worry… huff, even without an anesthetic, I can endure it.”

Although the soldier said this, his deathly pale face and constantly twitching, trembling body clearly suggested otherwise.

The tent flap of the emergency room was suddenly thrown open, and a junior officer in an ensign’s uniform ducked inside. “This boy is a soldier from my battalion headquarters. Please, you must perform the hemostasis surgery as soon as possible… As for the pain relief and anesthesia, I might have a way.”

Simmons stared at the man who entered, his expression freezing for a moment. Then, with a look of distaste, he raised a hand to straighten his blood-stained doctor’s robe.

“Priest Simmons…”

“Ensign Neil, while serving in the army, we should address each other by our titles… There are no Priests or clerics here.”

At the very least, Simmons refused to acknowledge someone like Neil, who had forsaken their original promise, secretly left his post, and abandoned his colleagues to join the army… What kind of Priest or cleric from the Church would run off to the front lines to carry a gun and fight!

Back when they were in the monastery, they hadn’t belonged to the order of battle priests… Even though His Majesty the Emperor now forbade the Church from preaching publicly, his former close friend’s current actions could be considered a complete betrayal of his personal faith.

Wylan, however, paid no mind to the personal conflict between the two former ‘holy rollers’ and pressed, “You have a way to solve the anesthesia problem?”

Neil gave a wry smile and nodded. “It’s simple. This boy is a devout follower from Isengard. If I use Sacred Prayer on him to temporarily bolster his mental fortitude, he’ll definitely be able to endure the intense pain of the surgery!”

Chapter 795: Morale Boost

News of the final victory in the assault on Steelrock City reached the capital, Starfire City, in less than half a day.

After attending a high-level military meeting at the Ministry of Defense, Harvey rushed back to the Imperial Palace to continue handling his daily administrative duties, barely managing to squeeze in time for dinner as night fell.

But Ashe, the Minister of Propaganda, who was known for his leisurely work pace, seized this brief moment of respite to seek an audience with the frazzled Emperor.

“If I saw you looking this relaxed during the busiest part of the day, I’d probably feel even more resentful,” Harvey quipped mercilessly as he cut into his pan-seared lamb chops. “In wartime, the Propaganda Department should be swamped with work, yet I hear you’ve even had time to personally lead a theater troupe and stage several plays within a month.”

Ashe had already eaten dinner, but unable to refuse Harvey’s warm invitation, he sat down and raised his wine glass. “Your Majesty, the work of the Propaganda Department… doesn’t always require my personal involvement. My writers and ‘ears’ are all very diligent. None of their duties have been neglected in the slightest.”

Harvey nodded, not truly intending to reprimand him. “Out with it. Are you here to bypass the chain of command for funding again? Or did Rainer reject your application for a new theater project?”

Although Ashe managed the Propaganda Department for Harvey, he also held the position of Minister of Culture. Besides coordinating various projects with the Education Department, he had made significant contributions to public entertainment, establishing over a dozen theater troupes and publishing houses, all of which were incorporated into the official government system.

“It has nothing to do with new theater troupes… As for funding, well… that’s secondary. The main thing is another, more imminent issue that requires your approval.”

As he spoke, he pulled a thin approval document from his coat. For once, he dropped his usual nonchalant attitude, holding it with both hands and sliding it in front of Harvey.

Harvey took it and flipped it open, seeing the title written clearly on the cover: Special Application for Theatrical Performances to Entertain the Troops at the Front Line.

He wants to send a theater troupe to the Eastern Front to perform plays for the soldiers fighting the non-human enemy on the front lines?

Harvey glanced up at him in surprise, muttering under his breath, “Your political awareness… is astonishingly high!”

Ashe paused for a moment, then asked, “What awareness?”

“Nothing… Hmm, this is a good proposal. Entertaining the troops at the front can indeed effectively boost morale, encourage the soldiers fighting far beyond our borders, and greatly unite the people, demonstrating the importance the Kingdom’s government places on this war.”

Harvey pondered for a moment before asking, “The safety of the theater troupe on this trip can be guaranteed… but the question is, what plays do you plan to perform?”

His unspoken meaning was that if Ashe stuck to the romantic love stories he was best at staging—like The Prince and Cinderella or The Half-Orc and the Noble Lady—they probably wouldn’t be suitable for the war-torn front.

The vast majority of the army might be hot-blooded young men, but with a great enemy before them, the propaganda needed to keep their focus entirely on the battle. Trivial tales of romance would be rather inappropriate.

Ashe shook his head, a triumphant smile spreading across his face. “Since Your Majesty has already agreed, there will be no obstacles to implementing this… Of all the plays the capital’s theater troupe has performed in the past, the ones you personally wrote were the most popular. Therefore, for these performances to entertain the soldiers at the front, I would like to trouble Your Majesty to personally pen the scripts once more…”

Pfft—

Harvey had sensed something was off halfway through Ashe’s sentence, but when Ashe finally revealed his true intentions, he spat out a mouthful of wine. Rolling his eyes in anger, he snapped, “You’ve got to be kidding me! So after all that, you want me to write the plays too? You came here today to get everything for free, didn’t you?”

Seeing the Emperor’s unbridled fury, Ashe quickly tried to placate him. “Didn’t Your Majesty just toss several play outlines at me in a single day’s work before? If the soldiers on the front line knew the performance they were watching was from a script personally written by the Emperor… their morale would soar, and they would throw themselves back into the heroic fight, wouldn’t they?”

That may be so…

Harvey sulked for a moment, but ultimately surrendered to Ashe’s shamelessness. He pressed his hand to his forehead. “I can only give you the story outlines… Three days. Give me three days. After the scripts are done, you must have them staged before the end of the month.”

Now that he had shamelessly become the Emperor’s “client,” the only way forward was to inflict tight deadlines on each other.

Having secured Harvey’s personal promise, Ashe gleefully stood up and took his leave, leaving the Emperor, halfway through his meal, to stew in his own chaotic thoughts.

…

“Your Majesty, I believe Minister Ashe’s proposal is a much-needed logistical aid for our current stalemate on the Eastern Front…”

Astaren, who had been standing by like a statue, finally spoke up to express his approval after Ashe had left.

Harvey rubbed the bridge of his nose and agreed, “Indeed. It’s not that I hadn’t thought of these things… It’s just that I’m so buried in state affairs that it slipped my mind.”

For the Eastern Defense Line, which was mired in a protracted war, rewarding the soldiers who had been fighting on the front lines for so long was indeed an imperative measure.

In the past, when battles broke out between the nobles of the southern nations, they would often quickly assemble an army composed mainly of knights, supplemented by mercenaries and laborers. They would boost morale with hearty feasts of meat and wine before setting out. Then, right before the two armies clashed, the commanding lord would personally promise bounties for kills as a “shot in the arm,” using various rewards and favors to quickly unify the otherwise loose-knit force.

Harvey’s Northern Army, on the other hand, had a much more rigorous and standardized system of pay and rewards. Whether in peacetime or war, soldiers always received their regular military pay on time and in full. Once a war broke out and they were sent to the front, they received additional wartime rewards calculated based on merit. Generous bonuses, promotions for meritorious service, and material benefits were combined into a comprehensive and highly enticing “grand prize package,” compelling the rank-and-file soldiers to be brave in battle and obey orders without question.

This system had also made military enlistment one of the most enviable and high-paying professions in the newly-formed United Kingdom, causing the nation’s young men to flock to every recruitment drive, no matter how many were announced.

The material rewards were already more than sufficient. What needed to be supplemented, then… was naturally the “spiritual food,” or perhaps “emotional stimulant,” for the soldiers on the front line.

The war between the two races, humans and Demonic Lizardmen, was bound to be a long one. No matter how high human morale was at the start, or how fierce their resistance… as the fighting bogged down into a stalemate, with occasional failures in local military operations and a constantly rising casualty count, those who truly experienced the battlefield would grow weary and exhausted, or lose their confidence. Their resilient will would slowly crumble. If this went unnoticed by the Kingdom’s high command, it would inevitably lead to a rapid slide into the abyss of defeat.

And that, naturally, was an outcome that Harvey, as the Emperor, was absolutely unwilling to see.

Chapter 796: Multi-pronged Counterattack

The day before the Harvest Festival celebration in the capital, Starfire City, Pierce, the commander-in-chief of the army of the St. Valen United Kingdom, arrived at the command base on the Eastern Defense Line, just as the long-range teleportation array at Wolf Fang Ridge activated.

Without a moment’s delay, he strode straight into the General Staff Department, causing the group of high-ranking officers waiting in the conference hall to rise to their feet as if facing a formidable enemy. The atmosphere instantly tensed.

“A detailed report on the battle for Steelrock City,” Pierce, ever decisive, said, pointing a finger at Battalion Commander Wayne, who had just returned from the front. “His Majesty only needs to know the outcome of the battle, but I need the casualty figures down to the last man.”

He paused, then added, “And the number of enemy killed… as well as the current situation in Steelrock City.”

Wayne nodded, stood up, and reported with crisp brevity, “My battalion suffered five hundred seventy-nine killed in action. The total number of light and heavy casualties is over eight hundred. These figures include non-combat personnel from our logistics and engineering units.”

As the numbers were read out, the entire conference hall fell silent… For a single siege battle, the casualties were the heaviest the Northern Army had suffered since its founding. Rumor had it that in Wayne’s ace First Battalion, more than half the men in three of its assault companies had become casualties—the losses were so severe that their unit designations could be struck from the rolls.

Even non-combat units in the rear had been attacked and suffered losses, a testament to the brutal intensity of the battle…

Yet Pierce remained unmoved. With a calm expression, he nodded. “I will replenish your battalion with two full battalions of troops, a mix of new recruits and veterans… It will not impede your unit’s continued combat effectiveness.”

Wayne, who had been expecting a furious reprimand, was suddenly overcome with wild joy. He struck his fist to his chest and declared, “Yes, General!”

“Continue your report…”

“Yes, sir! In the battle for Steelrock City, my battalion eliminated over thirteen thousand enemy troops. The two thousand or so Winged ones garrisoned in the city were almost completely wiped out, and more than half of the twenty thousand Black Lizard warriors were slaughtered… We were unable to pursue those who were lucky enough to escape through the underground waterways back to the Floating Island in the underground river.”

The other officers gasped in unison… Could a single independent regiment truly achieve such a result in one siege? The annihilation of over ten thousand non-human enemies sounded so horrifying it was hard to believe.

Of course, no one dared question the authenticity of the figures. After all, the Military Police and military law officers sent to the front by the Military Law Department were His Excellency Astaren’s trusted subordinates. Under the watchful eyes of these “Iron-fisted Judges” who came from the secret police, no one would dare to greedily chase glory, act rashly, or falsify battle records.

Viewed in that light… their own losses of over five hundred dead suddenly seemed less difficult to accept.

Pierce chuckled softly and said slowly, “Don’t think I don’t know. The majority of these enemy casualties… were probably the result of you dispatching the airship unit to bombard Steelrock City with gelled incendiary bombs, setting a cataclysmic fire, weren’t they?”

After all, the fire had burned for three days and three nights and had yet to be extinguished. Steelrock City was still a scene of scorching hell, preventing even the victorious Northern Army from entering. They could only set up camp outside the city gates, waiting impatiently for the flames to die down and the city to cool.

Wayne felt no shame. He stated bluntly, “General, to seize the initiative in the central part of the defense line and weaken the enemy’s effective strength as much as possible, that city-burning fire was absolutely necessary…”

Pierce nodded and turned to the map spread across the long table in the center of the conference room. “Indeed,” he said in a low voice. “By taking Steelrock City… we have seized the initiative in the central sector of the Eastern Defense Line, allowing us to advance or retreat. With the completion of the garrison base at Wind-Eroded Ridge in the southeast, the only remaining tough fight… is in the Sinking Mulberry Valley area to the northwest.”

Hearing this, Chief of Staff Dickinson immediately rose to his feet. “Battalion Commander Colonel Dav is currently leading his troops in battle against the enemy in that region… General, the Sinking Mulberry Valley is a web of interlocking waterways and complex terrain. It is very difficult for us to pinpoint the location of the enemy’s main force. I’m afraid we won’t be able to force a local, direct confrontation in the short term.”

Without the coordinates of the Demonic Lizardmen’s Floating Island fortress, it was impossible to gather a large force and annihilate their effective strength in a single, decisive battle. Furthermore, the region’s proximity to the northern Great Chasm in the Spine of the Continent Mountains meant that a large number of non-human races would continue to converge there…

Based on intelligence alone, the Staff Department estimated that the number of Demonic Lizardmen active in the area might already exceed thirty thousand. If they managed to regroup, there was a risk they could turn the tables and encircle the Northern Army.

This passive situation had left the army’s high command hesitant… Opinions were deeply divided on whether to abandon Sinking Mulberry Valley and pull the defense line back in the northwestern sector.

But it was clear that Commander-in-Chief Pierce, having come to the front lines himself, carried the will and strategy of His Majesty the Emperor…

Faced with the setback in the northwest, he seemed to have a contingency plan ready. He turned to the staff officers and asked, “Is the battalion commanded by Dav currently coordinating closely with the Grasslands Resistance active in the area and actively conducting joint operations?”

Dickinson was stunned for a moment before responding slowly, “That is indeed the case. However… the Vengeance Resistance Army active in the area isn’t very large, and their forces are too scattered. They are not in a position to sway the course of the battle.”

“Then increase the support!” Pierce shrugged and explained patiently, “Provide these Resistance forces with unconditional support… whether they need weapons, supplies, or logistical reinforcements, we will meet all their requests. If we can’t locate the Demonic Lizardmen’s main force, then we can’t let the enemy track our main force’s movements either.”

What did that mean?

The officers present were all taken aback.

Only Dickinson, as the high-ranking chief of staff, understood at once. He asked, his voice a mix of shock and doubt, “General, do you mean… we should break up our full-strength formations and mix them in with the local Resistance to carry out guerrilla tactics?”

Pierce nodded in satisfaction. “Correct. This is also His Majesty’s will… He anticipated the unfavorable situation that might arise on the northwestern defense line and believes that breaking up our army to disperse and intersperse our forces for combat offers a better chance to turn the tide.”

Since Sinking Mulberry Valley was already a quagmire of intense fighting, they might as well muddy the waters even further, paralyzing and confusing the enemy’s vision in the process.

An officer immediately raised a question. “But if we break up our main forces, how should we respond when the enemy’s Floating Island fortress appears? By the time we redeploy a large army from the rear to the front line… it will likely be too late.”

“There is no need to worry. His Majesty prepared a surprise force long ago, just waiting for their Floating Island to fully reveal itself.”

Before Pierce could explain further, Dickinson and the other staff officers understood instantly. “Is it the Armored Independent Regiment?” they exclaimed in pleasant surprise.

The Armored Mobile Independent Regiment was a new unit composed of two hundred armored artillery vehicles, over three hundred armored wheeled vehicles, and more than five hundred military magic motorcycles, with all personnel mounted on high-speed vehicles.

If this new “mobile surprise force” were to launch a lightning raid against the enemy, they could reach Sinking Mulberry Valley in less than a day, eliminating any possibility of being too slow to seize a tactical opportunity.

Chapter 797: The Vast Ocean of People’s War

Although it was only just mid-autumn in Isengard, the temperature had already dropped sharply.

For the Plainsmen who had lived here for generations, this was a common sight: a thick layer of white frost congealing on the ground and vegetation in the early morning and late evening, and the biting chill of the oncoming wind.

In an abandoned red copper mine twenty-five kilometers southeast of Sand Gold Town, two groups of people were meeting in secret within the narrow, crisscrossing tunnels.

“Captain Fleming, Captain Lang!” a young man in a grass-gray cloak raised his oil lamp high, greeting them warmly. “We arrived at the mine last night and have been waiting ever since… We thought you’d been delayed and wouldn’t be able to meet us as planned.”

The well-built Fleming reached out and lightly clapped hands with the other man, smiling. “No matter how difficult, we would always keep our appointment… You don’t need to worry about that.”

With that, he and Lang exchanged a look, and he waved for the militia under his command to bring several large crates forward from the back of the line, stacking them neatly on the ground.

Seeing the crates land with a heavy thud, the young man’s face finally broke into a delighted smile. He asked hesitantly, “Is this… is this the supply shipment the Valen people promised us?”

Fleming nodded, adding with a smile, “That’s right. Standard-issue weapons from the Eastern Front’s Second Independent Regiment, plus enough magical ammunition to last you two weeks. I also made a special request for some medicine… high-grade stuff prepared by Starfire City’s magic potion Alchemists.”

“There are magic potions too?” The young leader’s voice trembled. “By the Light! This is life-saving stuff! We have several mortally wounded people in our unit. The cleric has already given them their last rites… Maybe with these potions, they can still be saved!”

Hearing this, Lang immediately stepped forward, lifted the lid of a supply crate, and urged, “Then don’t delay. Quickly take inventory of the supplies and get them back to your camp immediately…”

Several militia members immediately crowded around, eagerly pulling at the supplies wrapped in straw and oilpaper inside the crates.

“Whoa! New Magical Energy Guns! This… this isn’t a single-shot!”

One of the militia members stared, stunned, at the new weapon in his hands, turning it over and over as he mumbled, “Chief… this thing is different from the ones we got before…”

“The ones that flowed into the country from Da’ers were the oldest models, requiring a reload after every shot… But this bolt-action type is different. It’s equipped with a separate magazine that holds five rounds in advance. Once you insert it into the long rifle’s rear breech, you just need to work the bolt after each shot to fire consecutively.”

As Fleming explained, he picked up a long rifle and demonstrated its operation, his movements slightly unfamiliar.

The militia members gathered around him were completely stunned, their faces painted with eagerness. They looked as if they couldn’t wait to get their hands on a new weapon.

The young leader suppressed his emotions and asked in a low voice, “How many rifles are there in total? And how many rounds of magical ammunition were issued?”

“Ten rifles, five hundred rounds. Your squad isn’t that large. As long as you don’t go head-to-head with large forces of those monsters, this ammunition will be more than enough for you.”

He paused, then added with emphasis, “Remember, we only target stragglers who’ve been scattered by the Northern Army. If you sense something is wrong, you must retreat immediately and stay far away… Preserving your own lives is the most important thing.”

The young leader nodded gravely. He pulled a thin booklet from his coat, its cover printed with the words [Guide to Grasslands Guerrilla Warfare], and waved it proudly. “I understand. ‘Where there’s life, there’s hope’… The knowledge His Majesty the Emperor of St. Valen personally imparted to us has been incredibly useful at critical moments.”

An illiterate fool couldn’t lead a militia guerrilla unit.

Fleming showed an appreciative expression and patted the young man’s shoulder. He then took out several strangely shaped cloaks from the supply crate and said in a gentle voice, “Here are a few optical camouflage cloaks. They’re also standard-issue military gear. Try them on…”

The young leader took one, shrugging off his dirty felt cloak to replace it. As the new cloak enveloped him, his body, in the dim lamplight, slowly changed to an earthen yellow. If he were to lean against the mine wall now, he would blend in perfectly with the environment.

“How is this thing made? It’s… it’s amazing!”

“Those damned non-humans have a poor sense of smell and hearing; they rely on their excellent vision to track targets… With this, our best marksmen won’t have to worry about being easily spotted anymore!”

“The Valen people must have developed this specifically to counter the non-human races, right?”

Fleming shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t know either… But I heard every soldier in the Northern Army was issued one of these military cloaks. They’ve used them to carry out several successful ambushes against the Demonic Lizardmen around the Sinking Mulberry Valley, which is proof enough of their effectiveness.”

The young leader’s hand trembled slightly as he held the cloak. “Captains, these supplies are incredibly important to us. For you to take such a great risk to deliver them…”

Fleming waved his hand dismissively. “Say no more. His Majesty the Emperor said it himself… We Plainsmen who have lived in Isengard for generations are now fighting alongside the Northern Army against the non-human races, not to pledge fealty to him, but to fight for ourselves, for our homes, and for our country. This is a responsibility shared by all of Humanity, and it’s only natural that we uphold our pact of mutual aid.”

The group fell silent for a moment. Then, they all placed their hands over their chests and said in low voices, “By the Light, may my Lord bless His Majesty the Emperor with health, and may his kingdom prosper forever!”

…

Fleming watched the militia team carry the supply crates and slowly depart from the mine, remaining silent for a long time.

Lang spoke up, reminding him, “Where to next?”

“According to our previous arrangement, we need to reach the Ironwood Hills within three days… There are at least three local Vengeance Army units active in that area, and they’re also eagerly awaiting desperately needed weapons and ammunition.”

Lang hesitated for a moment, then said with some concern, “But… the Vengeance Army units in the Ironwood Hills have always refused contact with the Valen people. Rumor has it that Archbishop Randall, who disappeared after the fall of the capital, is now hiding among them and directing their fight against the non-human races. If that’s the case, will we anger the Valen people by supplying them?”

Fleming gave a wry smile and sighed. “We haven’t seen it with our own eyes, so a rumor is just a rumor… You and I were once members of the Church Guard, and most of the Resistance in Sand Gold Town came from devout followers, yet the Northern Army still treats everyone equally without discrimination. I believe that with the magnanimity and foresight of His Majesty the Emperor, who is far away in Starfire City, he would never split hairs over such an issue.”

He paused, his expression growing slightly more excited. “Besides… Ensign Benny told me a few days ago that Baron Herrera, the military noble from Steelrock City, is gathering a Plainsman guerrilla army of several thousand at the border with the full support of His Majesty the Emperor of St. Valen. They’re recruiting entirely from local refugees from Isengard and will soon set out for the central region of the kingdom to join our counter-offensive.”

The weapons they’re equipped with are far superior to what we Resistance fighters have. They have everything from the latest Rapid-fire Magical Energy Guns, portable magical energy artillery, and Magical Energy Machine Guns, to magical vehicles that can race across the grasslands at high speeds, providing flexible and mobile support to various locations.

Chapter 798: “Skirmisher”

“L-Lord Baron, h-how much longer… before we arrive…”

Blasted by the biting cold wind, the soldier riding on the high-speed Magic Motorcycle found it difficult to even speak. The moment he opened his mouth, a gust of frigid air rushed in.

Ereila, focused entirely on driving the alchemical vehicle, heard him and reached up to adjust the crystal wind-proof goggles on his face. “According to the sentinels and the map, we should reach Dusk Valley in another fifteen minutes…” he shouted back.

After a moment, he slowed down slightly and turned to look at the adjutant, who was hunched over and curled up in the sidecar. He frowned and added, “How many times have I told you? After formally joining the army, don’t call me Lord Baron anymore… From now on, address me by my rank!”

The adjutant shrank back and stammered, “Y-Yes, Major…”

Eighty to ninety percent of the men in this “militia guerrilla unit” were able-bodied young men who had previously fled the grasslands. They were recruited and assembled in the eastern and border regions of St. Valen and had undergone a whole summer of harsh training. In terms of military proficiency and discipline, they were now almost on par with the regular army.

The only thing they lacked… was probably actual combat experience in guerrilla warfare.

As one of the few young nobles among these vengeful men returning to their homeland who had received cavalry training, Ereila had naturally become the combat commander with the military’s support. He was promoted to the rank of Major according to Northern Army regulations and given full command over the more than two thousand “Grasslands Skirmishers” he had personally recruited.

However, according to the instructions from His Majesty the Emperor and the military, they would not mobilize the entire force to the front line to engage the non-human monsters head-on in full-strength formations like a regular combat unit.

The tactical content provided in the St. Valen Militia Reserve Training Manual… was the objective they needed to follow and strictly execute.

Dusk Valley was an extremely important strategic point north of the Isengard Eastern Defense Line. Although it was still tens of kilometers from the front lines, the number of non-human enemies that broke through the defense line and roamed here was not small. This was especially true for the agile, flying Winged ones with their broad, fleshy wings, who often passed through the area to attack supply troops moving from the rear, causing considerable trouble for the frontline combat units.

More importantly, the terrain around Dusk Valley was extremely complex and unique. Canyons and ravines, as dense as a spiderweb, crisscrossed the land for tens of kilometers. Among them were even several “rift corridors” that cut through the line of fire and could lead directly to the occupied territories in the north. This would allow the “Skirmishers” led by Ereila to reach the Ironwood Hills silently, right under the noses of the non-human race.

Their final destination was, of course, to reinforce the local Resistance still actively fighting the non-human races in the Ironwood Hills.

…

The column of Magic Motorcycles sped onward, arriving at Dusk Valley in a great procession just before nightfall. Following the coordinates provided by the sentinels, they successfully located a dense forest at the mouth of the valley and concealed their more than two hundred camouflaged vehicles.

After entering Dusk Valley, the “Skirmishers” could no longer rely on these miraculous high-speed vehicles. The valley terrain was complex and riddled with obstacles, with some places so narrow that an adult could only pass through sideways. The Magic Motorcycles couldn’t navigate it at all. This meant that to cross Dusk Valley and reach the Ironwood Hills, the soldiers would have to travel the entire not-so-short journey of tens of kilometers on foot.

“I heard that the ace soldiers of the Northern Army’s best battle groups can march twenty-five kilometers cross-country in a single day with a full load,” the adjutant whispered, walking up to Ereila’s side. “That’s exactly the distance needed to cross the rift corridors of Dusk Valley, but with our abilities…”

“What the regular army can do, the Skirmishers can do too!” Ereila said, his expression resolute as he stared at the map spread out before him. “The soldiers of the Northern Army are mortals too. From what I know, before they enlisted, they were just ordinary farmers, shepherds, and porters… They’re no different from us. In fact, they also only went through three months of new recruit training before shouldering their rifles and heading to the battlefield.”

They were issued the same weapons, received equal supplies and rations, and even had a dedicated tactical training manual… Ereila firmly believed that the only thing his personally trained Skirmisher unit lacked compared to the regular army was simply combat experience.

No! The Skirmishers might even have certain advantages over the Northern Army in some respects.

These Plainsmen, who had lost their homes, property, pastures, and livestock to the ravages of the non-human invasion, who had even seen their families and relatives slaughtered senselessly, possessed a far more intense desire for revenge than the Valen people… They yearned every moment to return to their homeland and exact a blood debt from the enemy!

“We’ll use the cover of night to enter Dusk Valley and bypass the conflict zones before dawn… Avoid the scattered Demonic Lizardmen units roaming nearby and head directly for the Ironwood Hills!”

Ereila stabbed a finger at the marching route marked on the map, issuing his command to the adjutant. “The journey is about twenty to twenty-five kilometers. We might encounter enemies along the way, so we must be cautious the entire time and avoid those damn monsters as much as possible.”

His two ensign adjutants had been his knight squires in the past and were also well-trained Probationary Knights. Hearing this, one of them reminded him with a worried look, “B-Major, that won’t be easy. Marching through the canyon corridors offers good concealment, but if we’re spotted by those Winged ones who can come and go as they please in the sky, we could be trapped in the valley with no way to advance or retreat.”

After all, this was an army that had never been tested in actual combat. It would be difficult to guarantee an upper hand against the non-human race relying solely on the courage born of vengeance and the magical weapons they had only recently learned to master.

Over five hundred men was still too conspicuous…

And the vision of those Winged ones patrolling the skies was as sharp as a goshawk’s on the grasslands; they could often spot human troops on the ground, even at night.

Ereila nodded, having already worked out a complete plan. “Of course we can’t move as one group… I’ll lead fifty soldiers to scout ahead into the canyon. The remaining four hundred or so men will split into several squads of a hundred. Even if one squad is detected by the enemy, they can lead them away and provide cover for the others…”

As he spoke, a scout on watch came running over, his face a mixture of shock and delight as he reported to Ereila, “Major! The weather is changing!”

Everyone hurried to a high point in the forest and gazed north. Under the light of the setting sun, which was about to dip below the horizon, a vast, dusky yellow expanse blotting out the sky and sun rose in the distant sky.

“It’s… it’s a sandstorm!” the adjutant couldn’t help but murmur.

Ereila burst out laughing, pointing north and proclaiming, “It seems luck is on our side. This sandstorm couldn’t have come at a better time!”

With the cover of this sudden extreme weather, not only would it be difficult for the Winged ones to take to the skies for patrols, but their vision would also be severely hampered. The Skirmishers could now cross the canyon safely and reach their designated reinforcement point without any problems.

Chapter 799: Ironwood Hills

In the Ironwood Hills, a thick, gray-white fog would rise every morning and evening.

Although the land had been ravaged by a sandstorm all through the previous night, as dawn broke, the dense white moisture, mixed with a gloomy gray mist, arrived right on schedule.

The air was unusually damp and cold, and the ground underfoot was soft and slick… This was a rare occurrence in the grasslands during the dry autumn and winter seasons, a unique feature of this vast, low-lying hilly plain in northwestern Isengard.

A dozen or so people, dressed in ragged clothes and dirty cloaks like mercenaries, moved silently through the dense, low-growing ironwood forest. Although the weather was already quite cold, they all walked barefoot, their feet and calves stained so black with mud that their original skin color was indiscernible.

“Captain… the Sludge Fen is just ahead. Should we stop and send a couple of men to scout it out?”

The man leading the group had a thick, full beard, and his light brown hair held a few drops of dew. Hearing this, he narrowed his eyes and nodded, his voice low. “We’ll rest here for a bit. Send two of the sharpest to sneak over and take a look…”

If the intelligence from the other Resistance group active nearby was correct, a small non-human force had appeared near the Sludge Fen. They seemed to be just sentinels who had arrived by chance, patrolled the area for a while, and then returned to the fen to lie dormant.

The Isengard Resistance forces still active in the occupied territories had long since figured out many of the traits of these non-human monsters… The Valen people called them Demonic Lizardmen from the far north. Their entire bodies were encased in an exceptionally tough hide carapace, and they needed to submerge themselves in water periodically to rest, ensuring their hides remained moist and flexible.

These monsters couldn’t stay away from a water source for too long…

This meant that as long as they could track their movements and set up an ambush near a water source, they had a chance of a successful strike.

Of course, the necessary precondition for all this was… the humans involved in the fight had to possess a powerful and magical weapon, just like the Valen people—a magical weapon known as “fire.”

“Fire” first flowed into Isengard from the border of the neighboring country, Da’ers. As more and more Resistance armies spontaneously formed on the grasslands, a group’s ability to hold its ground in the occupied territories, surrounded by non-humans, and fight back against scattered Demonic Lizardmen depended entirely on the number of “fire” weapons they possessed.

The Resistance unit gathered by Arva, though numbering less than a hundred, was fortunate… Not only did they currently possess five “fire” weapons, but they were also led by four former warriors of the Holy See’s Army of Judgment, including their Captain, Arva. They were considered one of the stronger anti-non-human resistance forces in the Ironwood Hills area.

Arva knew full well that he and his three colleagues, who were also low-rank Bloodline Warriors, couldn’t stand against the Demonic Lizardmen in a direct confrontation with just cold steel… These damn non-human monsters were mostly immune to even the offensive divine arts of the Holy See’s Priests. In their eyes, Bloodline Warriors were nothing more than slightly faster and stronger ants.

But ever since they acquired “fire,” this silent magical weapon that could ambush targets from a distance had become their greatest ace in the hole for killing enemies… The tough outer husk of the Demonic Lizardmen, difficult to pierce with swords or knives, was as fragile as paper under the fire of magic stone bullets, easily shot through from nearly a hundred meters away.

The natives who had lived in the Ironwood Hills for generations were mostly hunters and herd guardians by trade. As long as they had sufficient experience and skill with bows and crossbows, they could quickly master this powerful and novel magical weapon, using its strength to strike back at the non-human enemies who had invaded their homeland.

“Unfortunately, our remaining magic stone bullets are almost gone. I wonder if those magical merchants from Da’ers will bring more supplies…”

As Arva frowned in thought, one of the scouts who had gone ahead returned quietly. “Captain, there are no signs of winged monsters in the sky, and no unusual activity in the Sludge Fen. But we found Demonic Lizardman tracks at the edge of the pool, along with some clear drag marks.”

“They’ve probably all sunk into the pool to rest. If not even the winged monsters are on alert…” Arva clenched his fist and said decisively, “it means their numbers aren’t large, and they’ve brought those worm monsters that spray black water!”

Those worm monsters, which looked like giant fleshy maggots, not only sprayed a large amount of black crystalline spikes to kill targets in battle, but their main purpose was to carry that viscous, foul-smelling black water as a supply for Demonic Lizardmen who were far from water sources and the main force.

Arva had accidentally discovered this a few times before: several worms, clearly drained of their bodily fluids, had been carelessly discarded in areas where the Demonic Lizardmen had fought. The fat worms had no mouths or eyes, and an ordinary sword or knife could easily slice them open. Without their black water, they posed no threat.

“While the morning fog hasn’t lifted, we need to find a way to lure them out of the pool…” Arva crouched down, drawing in the muddy ground with his finger as he laid out the plan. “Everyone, split into two teams, each carrying two ‘fire’ weapons. The misty ironwood forest will make them as good as blind. We just need to focus on killing any stragglers.”

“What if we run into winged monsters?” someone asked in a low voice.

Arva pondered for a moment before saying decisively, “I’ll be in charge of watching those things… If they spot me, I’ll find a way to lead them away from the main group. You all retreat as soon as the attack is over.”

The Deputy frowned, hesitating. “Captain… that’s too risky.”

Although the winged monsters would also have limited vision in the misty, dense forest… they were, after all, flying monsters with broad, fleshy wings. Their agility and speed far surpassed that of ordinary Demonic Lizardmen. Once they locked onto a target, they could close in and attack swiftly. That magical, red-light lightning they used was often very difficult to react to and dodge.

Arva was naturally aware of the danger. He raised an eyebrow and gave a wry smile. “We don’t have many magic stone bullets left. Every non-human we can kill is a gain… Once the bullets are completely gone, we’ll have to pull out of this area anyway.”

He thought for a moment, then continued, “Whether I escape safely or not, you are to leave immediately after a successful attack. Head quickly to the eastern side of the hills and rendezvous with the Resistance led by Lord Vili. Remember to bring the wounded from the hidden camp.”

The Deputy, his face grim, was about to argue again when the other Resistance fighter sent to scout the Sludge Fen came running back in a hurry.

“Captain! Something’s wrong!”

He took a deep breath, his voice hurried and filled with terror. “The pool… the non-humans in the pool have been stirred up by something! They’re all surfacing and coming ashore!”

A chill ran down Arva’s spine. He asked in a trembling voice, “How many non-human monsters were hidden in the pool?”

“At least… at least fifty! I… I also saw a winged monster!”

Chapter 800: Fierce Battle in the Dense Forest

Even from several hundred meters away, the sounds of the Demonic Lizardmen emerging one by one from the sludge pool reached everyone’s ears with a faint rustle.

Despite being concealed by the dense forest canopy, the sound of flapping wings that occasionally passed overhead still filled the Resistance members hiding in the bushes with terror.

“What spooked them?” Arva asked in a hushed, strained whisper, keeping his voice as low as possible. “Didn’t the scout Vili sent say there were only about ten Demonic Lizardmen hiding in the pool?”

The sentinel responsible for relaying the message shook his head, looking terrified. “The Demonic Lizardmen have always been unusually active in this area. The other Resistance units rarely venture here, so intelligence can be faulty…”

With so many enemies, all of whom had already been alerted, it was clearly impossible to act rashly now.

Arva slammed his fist on the ground in frustration, grinding his teeth. “We have no choice… We’re pulling back to the hidden camp.”

Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief and was about to silently retreat under the cover of the Ironwood forest when two distinct, low hums suddenly echoed from the northeast, not far away.

That was the familiar sound of a “fire” weapon!

There was another Resistance unit active near the Sludge Fen, and their target was also the enemy in the pool?

The large number of Demonic Lizardmen lingering by the water’s edge were clearly drawn by the gunshots. They quickly materialized their black water weapons and began striding toward the Ironwood forest to the northeast.

It was obvious… that Resistance team had likely been spotted by the Winged ones on patrol. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have been forced to open fire and reveal their position.

Before Arva could think further, several more rapid gunshots rang out, this time much closer to his own team.

“Captain, should we retreat quickly… or meet up with them and help them fight off the enemy?” the Deputy asked, his voice trembling. He clearly felt the situation was grim, with their forces so heavily outnumbered.

More than fifty Demonic Lizardmen, with winged monsters circling in the sky… Unless every one of them had a “fire” weapon and an ample supply of magic stone bullets, they stood no chance in a direct confrontation.

Arva turned to look behind him and saw that many of the Resistance fighters’ eyes were bloodshot as they stared intently at him. These men had lost nearly all their relatives to the non-human races and had long since cast aside any concern for their own lives. When facing non-humans, many operated on the principle that killing one was breaking even, and killing two was a profit. Convincing them to abandon their fellow kin under attack would not be easy.

“We move to join them. We’ll find a way to cover them so we can all withdraw together!”

The words had barely left his mouth when a sharp, piercing sound cut through the air above. A dark crystalline spike shot through the dense canopy, heading straight for Arva’s team.

“Watch out! It’s the Winged ones!” someone reacted quickly, shouting a warning.

But it was too late for one Resistance fighter. He was unable to dodge, and the long, thin crystalline spike pierced him through the shoulder, pinning him directly to the trunk of an Ironwood tree.

Despite this, the man was exceptionally tough. To avoid drawing more enemy attention, he bit down hard, refusing to let out a single scream of pain.

Arva raised his “fire” weapon high, his sharp eyes catching a glimpse of a silhouette through a gap in the canopy. Squinting, he raised his arm and fired a shot in retaliation.

The bullet grazed the wide leaves of an Ironwood tree and flew straight toward its target, hitting the Winged one circling above them and tearing a gash in its broad, fleshy wing.

A spray of reddish-black fluid rained down, and the sound of flapping wings gradually faded into the distance. Arva shook his head with some regret. He had only managed to wound one of its wings, which was nowhere near a fatal blow. It wasn’t even enough to bring it down from the sky.

“We’ve been exposed! Move toward the sound of the gunfire… We need to link up with that mysterious team as quickly as possible!” Arva commanded in a low voice, leading his men in a swift advance toward the northeast.

The Deputy drew the short blade from his waist and snapped the crystalline spike lodged in the wounded warrior’s shoulder. He then hoisted the man onto his back. The weight of a grown man was no burden for a Bloodline Warrior.

…

The closer they got to the firefight, the more Arva felt that something was not right.

This mysterious Resistance team… their… their counterattack sounded a little strange.

As more and more of the startled Demonic Lizardmen from the Sludge Fen converged on the Ironwood forest, the sound of the “fire” weapons became increasingly frequent…

But it was far too frequent!

Just how many “fire” weapons did they possess?

As Arva led his team cautiously forward, he felt a faint chill run down his spine.

Just as the group, hunched over, made their way through a dense thicket of bushes, a low, sharp voice barked from their side—

“Stop! Who are you?”

Arva subconsciously reached for the side sword at his waist and turned his head slightly. Less than five meters away, a figure completely shrouded in a cloak and hood had appeared abruptly in his line of sight.

This person was so close. How had he not noticed him at all when they passed by just now?

It was no wonder. The color of the cloak he wore blended almost perfectly with the surroundings of the Ironwood forest. With that level of concealment, even a flock of winged monsters flying overhead would likely fail to spot him.

“You’re… one of the sentinels on watch?” Arva asked in a deep voice, letting his arm hang naturally to show he had no hostile intent. “We’re a Resistance unit active in this area. We heard the gunshots and came to provide support.”

His group of about ten people all had the typical appearance of Plainsmen, so no further explanation was needed to prove their identity.

The sentinel’s suspicion clearly faded quickly. He raised the muzzle of his weapon and stood his ground, saying seriously, “We’re the Resistance from Sand Gold Town… We came here chasing a small group of winged monsters and were just about to clean up the few non-humans in the vicinity while we were at it.”

Chasing… cleaning up the nearby Demonic Lizardmen on the side?

Arva was baffled. It took him a few seconds to process this before he asked anxiously, “How many people are in your team? I heard the sounds of you exchanging fire… How many… how many ‘fire’ weapons do you have?”

The sentinel just shrugged, not revealing all of his team’s details. He simply advised, “Fall back with me for now. Our people are luring all the monsters together. Once we’ve taken care of them in a bit, I’ll take you to see our leader.”

The other man clearly didn’t see Arva’s dozen or so local Resistance members as significant reinforcements, instead taking an attitude of offering protection. But Arva wasn’t offended; he knew perfectly well the combat strength of his own ragtag team.

Successfully ambushing a lone non-human and making it out alive was the absolute limit of what they could achieve. With their ammunition and supplies nearly gone, a head-on confrontation with the Demonic Lizardmen was almost impossible.

A friendly smile spread across Arva’s face. He raised a hand and signaled to his companions, indicating for the sentinel to lead the way.

Da-da-da-da-da—

The group had only walked a short distance when an unusually dense barrage of gunfire suddenly erupted from the nearby combat zone. The entire Ironwood forest seemed to boil over as countless startled birds and small wild animals burst from the treetops and burrows, fleeing in every direction in a panic.

BOOM—

CRACK—

Even more violent explosions followed, and the ground itself seemed to tremble slightly.

Arva’s eyes were wide and unblinking. His neck stiff, he asked the sentinel leading them in a choked voice, “What… what kind of weapons… is your team using to fight those non-humans?”

Chapter 801: “Reinforcements”

Pfft—

The military bayonet fixed to the front of the Magical Energy Gun slid easily through the bullet hole and deep into the non-human’s body. The soldier gave the weapon a sharp twist, waiting until the hide-covered monster before him went completely limp before pulling the blade free with a curse and a resentful sigh.

Guided by the sentinel who had discovered them, Arva met the leader of this Resistance squad. After a brief conversation, he discovered they were actually composed of two armed groups from different regions.

“My name is Fleming, and the twenty-odd men I lead are indeed from Sand Gold Town…” The sturdy, middle-aged man raised a hand to gesture at another officer with a cold expression standing to the side. “And this is Baron Ereila… er, Major Ereila. They are Northern Skirmishers from the border region.”

Northern… Skirmishers?

Arva froze for a moment, clearly sensitive to the word “Northern” that Fleming had mentioned. Among the many armed factions currently operating within Isengard, the main force resisting and counter-attacking the non-human race was the people of St. Valen… and their army called itself the “Northern Army.”

“You’re not wrong…”

Ereila strode closer and explained flatly, “Our Skirmisher regiment was indeed recruited and formed by St. Valen, but most of the enlistees are citizens of Isengard, just like you… fighting to take back our homes from the non-humans and avenge our kin!”

But the people of St. Valen… haven’t they always been the sworn enemy of the Church?

Why would they support and aid the Plainsmen, who are mostly devout followers…

Arva cautiously kept his doubts to himself, only shifting his gaze to sneak a glance at the follower’s tattoo on Fleming’s wrist.

Fleming didn’t seem to mind his cool attitude and continued to explain with a smile, “We’ve come this time to establish contact with the Resistance active here in the Ironwood Hills and, under the Northern Army’s directive, provide you with weapons and material aid, free of charge!”

Upon hearing this, Arva and his men were stunned into a state of shocked disbelief, their eyes instinctively turning to the weapons and equipment the newcomers carried.

Several Skirmishers, who were finishing up after the battle, were methodically disassembling a strange-looking metal contraption. That thing… was the very same terrifying weapon that had just unleashed a rain of magic stone bullets upon the enemy.

“This is a Magical Energy Machine Gun. The principle behind it isn’t too different from a Magical Energy Gun… but its advantage is that it can be loaded with several hundred magic stone bullets at once and fire upon the enemy in rapid succession. It’s extremely effective at suppressing these monsters when they charge in groups.”

Fleming explained patiently, not forgetting to add persuasively, “We brought three machine gun sets with us this time, along with an equivalent quota of ammunition. They will be distributed appropriately among the local Resistance squads like yours.”

Of course, such generosity couldn’t come from nowhere. Arva immediately understood and retorted, “And what is the price for these magical weapons and supplies? If I’m not mistaken… you’ll require us to submit and pledge fealty to the people of St. Valen, right?”

The people of St. Valen, who were currently engaged with the main non-human force in the Sinking Mulberry Valley, had tried to contact them before.

It was just that the non-humans’ recent offensives had grown increasingly fierce, and the Northern Army garrisons in strategic locations were not having an easy time of it, making it difficult for them to spare any attention for small, civilian resistance groups like theirs.

Not to mention their long supply lines were constantly harassed by the non-humans. They could barely manage their own supply problems, leaving them with no spare ammunition or weapons to aid the natives.

“His Majesty the Emperor doesn’t care whether you pledge fealty…” Ereila mused for a moment before taking over, his brow furrowed. “Joining hands to resist the non-humans and wiping them out completely is the ultimate goal. That is our primary mission here!”

Arva shrugged, not intending to argue the point further. “The weapons you’ve brought are certainly powerful, the only problem is… even with the main non-human force tied up with the Northern Army, the number of enemies roaming the Ironwood Hills alone is probably close to ten thousand.”

As an enemy-occupied territory in the northern grasslands near the Spine of the Continent Mountains, an enemy presence of this scale was not something that could be turned around with a mere supply of regular army weapons.

This group that had traveled so far numbered less than a hundred… and the weapons and ammunition they carried were nowhere near enough to go around.

Ereila nodded, but the corners of his mouth curved up in a slight smile. “As long as you’re willing to cooperate and fight alongside us, you don’t need to worry about the rest…”

He pointed a finger at his squad, which had reassembled behind him, and said proudly, “Aside from the support squad led by Captain Fleming, the Skirmisher unit I brought with me numbers nearly five hundred strong. We are currently split into five teams operating in the surrounding area. We will soon clear out the scattered enemies in the Sludge Fen and establish a temporary base of operations there!”

…

Sinking Mulberry Valley, Reed Bay.

A month ago, this place had been completely overrun by the Demonic Lizardmen. The once-prosperous town on the bay’s plain was now a field of ruins, filled with broken walls and debris burned by black water.

But three days ago, the Northern Army’s Ace Battle Group, personally led by Battalion Commander Dav, launched a massive frontal assault on Reed Bay. With the support of bomber airships and armored gun carriages, several thousand human soldiers caught the Demonic Lizardmen entrenched in the city ruins completely off guard. After a day and a night of fierce fighting, the main non-human force was finally forced to abandon the bay city, retreating north up the Sinking Mulberry River.

Only when the army officially took over and moved into the newly captured city ruins did they make a startling discovery… The city’s long-abandoned underground waterways stored a massive number of Spitter Worms carrying black water. It was clear the Demonic Lizardmen had been unable to take them along in their hasty retreat and had simply abandoned them.

Cross-referencing this with the Abyssal Sea Chart provided by the Northern Army’s General Staff, they instantly understood the non-humans’ strategic intent—there were no underground river passageways in the Sinking Mulberry Valley region large enough for a Floating Island fortress to travel submerged. The most they could do was dispatch a very small Floating Island from the Great Chasm in the north to the source of the Sinking Mulberry River, over fifty kilometers away. Then, they would use Spitter Worms to transport the black water, which would be carried downstream by ordinary Demon Lizard combat soldiers and finally collected and stored in Reed Bay.

Once Reed Bay had stockpiled enough black water to supply tens of thousands of Demon Lizard combat troops, they would inevitably use it as a springboard to completely breach the northern defensive line and invade the southern grasslands, even directly threatening the border between Isengard and St. Valen.

However, before this plan could come to fruition, it was detected by the more perceptive humans. The “Black Water Stockpile Plan,” only halfway complete, was promptly aborted amidst the roar of cannon fire.

UNTITLED

Chapter 1: The Corpses You Ordered Are Out of Stock

Chapter 2: A Necromancer’s Experiment Recruitment

Chapter 3: Experiment Successful, the Battery Man Activates!

Chapter 4: The Aggrieved Party Comes Calling

Chapter 5: The Perfect Automated Production Line

Chapter 6: A Bold Attempt to Link the Arcane Weave

Chapter 7: A Dangerous Anonymous Netizen

Chapter 8: The Magic Net Server Installation is Complete

Chapter 9: Dire News Before Winter’s Arrival
Chapter 10: The Plan for Animated Weapons
Chapter 11: The Magic Net Casters Forum

Chapter 12: A Magical Multiplayer Online Chat Room

Chapter 13: Traces of the Vile Orc Tribe

Chapter 14: A Silent Hunting Game

Chapter 15: The Defense Plan: Taking the Initiative!

Chapter 16: A Budding High-End Forum

Chapter 17: The Vanished Vile Orc Tribe

Chapter 18: New Business, Magic Net Express: Delivered in Seconds

Chapter 19: No Middleman to Take a Cut

Chapter 20: An Expedition Deep into Raven Ridge

Chapter 21: The Legacy of an Ancient Mage

Chapter 22: The Person Trapped in Amber

Chapter 23: An Unexpected Problem During the Extraction Surgery

Chapter 24: Half-Blood Vampire

Chapter 25: A Smurf Account in the Group Chat and Online Shopping

Chapter 26: The Witch Hunter Returns to His Old Profession

Chapter 27: Attack in the Rainy Night
Chapter 28: Courage and the Iron Fist
Chapter 29: A Life for a Life
Chapter 30: The Best of Both Worlds Plan

Chapter 31: The Fragile Humanity of an Alchemical Lifeform

Chapter 32: The Mysterious Beetle and its Derivative Ore

Chapter 33: An Unprecedented Energy Carrier

Chapter 34: A Formal Complaint

Chapter 35: The Online Discussion Sparked by the Network Outage

Chapter 36: The Relocation Plan: Onward to the Barren Lands!

Chapter 37: The Ultimate Goal of Entrepreneurship is to Cash In

Chapter 38: Refugees of the Northern Barren Lands

Chapter 39: Rescue and Reception

Chapter 40: The New Territory’s Construction Plan

Chapter 41: The Second Teleportation Array
Chapter 42: A New Member Joins
Chapter 43: Mass-Producing Alchemical Beasts

Chapter 44: A Surge in the Domain’s Population

Chapter 45: Exploring the Beetle Nest
Chapter 46: The Age of “Firearms”
Chapter 47: Equality in Exchange for Loyalty
Chapter 48: The Beginnings of an Army
Chapter 49: Literacy Education
Chapter 50: Frantic Ore Research
Chapter 51: Three-Party Online Transaction
Chapter 52: Payday

Chapter 53: A Note on Going Premium! Please Support the First Chapter!

Chapter 54: Testing the Guns

Chapter 55: The Militia’s First Battle

Chapter 56: Troop Recruitment and a Shooting Competition

Chapter 57: The Spellcaster Stranded in the Northern Lands

Chapter 58: A Production Accident
Chapter 59: Grouping Up Online
Chapter 60: Extradimensional Monster
Chapter 61: One Godly Shot
Chapter 62: Ancient Knowledge
Chapter 63: Magical Energy Bullets
Chapter 64: Medical-Type Alchemical Beast
Chapter 65: A New Order Has Arrived!
Chapter 66: Advancing Toward the Barren Lands
Chapter 67: Frontal Engagement
Chapter 68: The River Valley Outpost
Chapter 69: Field Hospital
Chapter 70: Anomaly in the Beetle Nest

Chapter 71: Planet-level Energy-gathering Array

Chapter 72: Advancement During an Experiment
Chapter 73: The Five-Circle Spell
Chapter 74: Casting Above His Level
Chapter 75: The River Valley Seesaw Battle
Chapter 76: The Corpse Puppet Behemoth
Chapter 77: Ultra-Long-Range Strike
Chapter 78: Reverse Plunder
Chapter 79: The Online Auction
Chapter 80: The Secret Use of Demon’s Blood
Chapter 81: Work-for-Relief
Chapter 82: Flesh Reshaping Experiment

Chapter 83: An Otherworldly Netizen from Across the Planes

Chapter 84: A Devil’s Application to Join the Group

Chapter 85: Property Breeds Perseverance
Chapter 86: The Fallen Knight and the Tutor
Chapter 87: Taxation and Conscription

Chapter 88: It’s Good to Have Friends in High Places

Chapter 89: Forum Handle “Mind Hunter”

Chapter 90: A Pincer Movement

Chapter 91: Tax Collection in Name, Plunder in Truth

Chapter 92: Firing Squad (Part 1)
Chapter 93: Lined Up and Shot Down (Part 2)
Chapter 94: Accusation and Frame-up
Chapter 95: The Assassination Plot

Chapter 96: Is the Lord Naturally Bulletproof?

Chapter 97: Returning the Favor
Chapter 98: Headshot
Chapter 99: The United Forum Members
Chapter 100: The Offline Revenge Operation
Chapter 101: The Spellcaster’s Fury
Chapter 102: The Regular Army Declaration
Chapter 103: The Army Reorganization Plan
Chapter 104: Funeral and Advancement
Chapter 105: The Way of the Knight
Chapter 106: Winter Festival
Chapter 107: Anonymous Consignment
Chapter 108: The Origin of Demons
Chapter 109: A Netizen Meetup
Chapter 110: Living Source Code
Chapter 111: A “Votive Power” Buffet
Chapter 112: The Magical Potato Server

Chapter 113: Membership Notice and Questionnaire

Chapter 114: The Inquisition
Chapter 115: Single-Player Game
Chapter 116: The Anti-Addiction System
Chapter 117: Paying to Draw Cards
Chapter 118: Work Inspection
Chapter 119: The Magic Stone Steam Engine
Chapter 120: The Dawn of Industrialization

Chapter 121: The Pioneer Territories Police Department

Chapter 122: The Seed of Magic
Chapter 123: The Soul Transplant Experiment
Chapter 124: Regenerative Prosthetics
Chapter 125: RoboCop
Chapter 126: Virus Invasion
Chapter 127: Hacker Defense War
Chapter 128: The Legendary Caster’s Probe

Chapter 129: The Devouring of Flesh and the Soul Beach

Chapter 130: Harvey the Scapegoat
Chapter 131: The Trolley Problem
Chapter 132: A New Police Story
Chapter 133: Pacifying the Refugees
Chapter 134: Spies and Moles
Chapter 135: The Forum’s Adventuring Party
Chapter 136: The Wyrm’s Remains

Chapter 137: An Unexpected Windfall and Dividing the Spoils

Chapter 138: The Bloodline Warrior Training Plan

Chapter 139: The Bloodline Transformation Ritual (Part 1)

Chapter 140: The Bloodline Transformation Ritual (Part 2)

Chapter 141: Bloodline Talent Test
Chapter 142: Special Operations Squad
Chapter 143: A Shaky Alliance

Chapter 144: A Plea for Mr. Turing’s Intervention

Chapter 145: Heretics
Chapter 146: The Thousand-Li Instant Kill
Chapter 147: Soul Separation
Chapter 148: A Lion’s Demand
Chapter 149: The Anonymous Honorary Member
Chapter 150: A Magical Wikipedia
Chapter 151: The Buried Genius
Chapter 152: An Unexpectedly Original Spell
Chapter 153: Harvey’s Magnetic Storm Field

Chapter 154: The Alchemy of a New Era (Part 1)

Chapter 155: The New Age of Alchemy (Part 2)
Chapter 156: Blast Furnace Steelmaking
Chapter 157: Trading Blood for a Man
Chapter 158: First Sighting of the Demons

Chapter 159: Bloodline Warrior vs. Demon Soldier

Chapter 160: Territory Defense Level One Alert

Chapter 161: A Raid Under the Cover of Night

Chapter 162: The Battle for the Mine

Chapter 163: A Cornered Foe Must Be Pursued, Annihilated to the Last

Chapter 164: Reaping the Spoils of War

Chapter 165: Spirit-Fusing Ore and a Strange Wild Fruit

Chapter 166: The Natural Rubber Fruit
Chapter 167: Seeking Help on the Forum
Chapter 168: The Control Experiment

Chapter 169: Submitting a Thesis, Research on Anti-Demon Weapons

Chapter 170: An Anonymous Paper
Chapter 171: The Chief’s Personal Review
Chapter 172: The Lie of God-Given Bloodlines

Chapter 173: Thesis Evaluation: Groundbreaking and Subversive

Chapter 174: The Essence of Alchemy

Chapter 175: The Tide of Secular Public Opinion

Chapter 176: An Online Gathering Rife with Undercurrents

Chapter 177: An Invention That Changes the Course of War

Chapter 178: Visitors from Araye

Chapter 179: Where Did This Country Bumpkin Come From?

Chapter 180: True Soul Forging

Chapter 181: Observer Neumann

Chapter 182: Master, I Want to Learn True Alchemy!

Chapter 183: Public Entertainment
Chapter 184: The Officers’ Club
Chapter 185: A Remodeled “Soul Siphon”
Chapter 186: New Spell: Information Frenzy!

Chapter 187: Bicycles and Public Transportation

Chapter 188: An Unconventional Ball Game
Chapter 189: The Sudden Collapse
Chapter 190: The Giant Devouring Worm
Chapter 191: The Living Tunneling Machine
Chapter 192: Project Pangolin

Chapter 193: The Conflict Between Academia and Faith

Chapter 194: The Truth Debate (Part 1)
Chapter 195: The Battle for Truth (Part 2)
Chapter 196: The City of Magic, Araye
Chapter 197: The Eve of the Duel
Chapter 198: The Show Begins

Chapter 199: The Might of a Transcendent-Rank Spell

Chapter 200: The Aftermath of the Conflict
Chapter 201: A Thousand-Mile Farewell
Chapter 202: A Strange Lab Accident
Chapter 203: Gathering on the Forum Again
Chapter 204: The Resubmitted Paper
Chapter 205: A Brand New School of Casting

Chapter 206: Fusion Magic, the Beginning of Chaos

Chapter 207: Netizen? Exam Surrogate!
Chapter 208: The Rescue Plan
Chapter 209: Crisis and Truth

Chapter 210: A Late-Night Online Plea for Help

Chapter 211: Cybernetic Surgery
Chapter 212: The Observer’s Protection
Chapter 213: Magic Microscope
Chapter 214: Vaccine Development
Chapter 215: RoboCop VS Bloodline Warrior
Chapter 216: “Magic” Motorcycle Test Drive

Chapter 217: The Ancient Ruins Deep Underground

Chapter 218: The Mystery
Chapter 219: Magic Core and Energy Ranch
Chapter 220: Commissioned Assassination

Chapter 221: Supernatural Shadow War (End of Volume)

End-of-Volume Summary and a Day Off
Chapter 222: Deep Cooperation
Chapter 223: The Agent
Chapter 224: The Ammunition Order
Chapter 225: The Gun of Annihilation
Chapter 226: Pre-Battle Preparations
Chapter 227: The Lure
Chapter 228: Operation Rip
Chapter 229: Technological Monopoly
Chapter 230: The Wolf-Form Mage
Chapter 231: A Special Welcoming Gift
Chapter 232: The Informant
Chapter 233: The Icebreaker
Chapter 234: A New Visitor

Chapter 235: A Gesture of Goodwill and a Promise

Chapter 236: The Church Withdraws
Chapter 237: The Plague of Corruption
Chapter 238: A Calculated Frame-up
Chapter 239: Divine Grace Potion
Chapter 240: Northward Bound
Chapter 241: Reception and Treatment
Chapter 242: Elemental Devouring
Chapter 243: A Drastic Turn of Events
Chapter 244: Impressions of the Territory
Chapter 245: A Gift of Thanks from a Netizen

It’s My Birthday Today, Taking a Day Off! Sorry

Chapter 246: The Dragon Chaser
Chapter 247: Soul Artifact
Chapter 248: The Rescue Plan
Chapter 249: Receiving the Refugees
Chapter 250: The Vaccine Business
Chapter 251: New Residents
Chapter 252: Festivals and Planning
Chapter 253: The Great River Bridge
Chapter 254: The Wisdom of Mortals
Chapter 255: Harvest Festival

Chapter 256: A Natural Treasury in the Barren Lands

Chapter 257: A Magical “Optical Camouflage”

Chapter 258: The “Blood-Binding” Identification Card

Chapter 259: Population Census and Identity Registration

Chapter 260: One-Day Tour Guide

Chapter 261: Soul Transfer and Prosthetic Transplants

Chapter 262: The Secret of Shapeshifting Magic

Chapter 263: A Safeguard for the Surgery

Chapter 264: The Half-Elf’s Kinsmen

Chapter 265: The Pioneer Territories’ Three Essentials for a Comfortable Life

Chapter 266: The Territory’s High-Level Meeting

Chapter 267: Military Farming
Chapter 268: Preparations for Building a City
Chapter 269: The Missing Legendary Chief

Chapter 270: Physical Roaming of the Magic Net

Chapter 271: A Legendary Nearing His End
Chapter 272: Flesh and Soul Fusion Ritual
Chapter 273: The Mana Infusion Experiment
Chapter 274: Technology Outsourcing Business
Chapter 275: Saving the Chief

Chapter 276: Return to Reality, Settling the Bill

Chapter 277: The Caged Beast and the Truth
Chapter 278: A Skewed Tech Tree
Chapter 279: The Magical-Powered Cannon
Chapter 280: Artillery Selection
Chapter 281: Live-Fire Training
Chapter 282: Harvey’s Three Great Sins
Chapter 283: The Shadow Over Grizzly Keep
Chapter 284: They Made the First Move!
Chapter 285: Silent Thunder
Chapter 286: The Battle of Jackdaw Town
Chapter 287: A Rout Like a Landslide
Chapter 288: A Lightning-Fast Pursuit
Chapter 289: Noble Captives
Chapter 290: Bombardment of Grizzly Keep
Chapter 291: The Gates Fall in an Instant
Chapter 292: Fierce Battle in the City
Chapter 293: Plunder and Reckoning
Chapter 294: Ransom and Fealty
Chapter 295: A Debate on the Situation
Chapter 296: Forum Referendum
Chapter 297: Grizzly Keep Police Department
Chapter 298: The Magical Revolver
Chapter 299: The Atypical Knight
Chapter 300: Rehabilitation Through Labor
Taking a Day Off to Go Home for National Day
Chapter 301: The Ailing Visitor from Afar

Chapter 302: Heteromorphic Limb Transplant Surgery

Chapter 303: A New Path for Shapeshifting Magic

Chapter 304: Migrants from the South
Chapter 305: Teacher Recruitment
Chapter 306: A “Fishing” Operation
Chapter 307: Rats and Flies
Chapter 308: The Public Trial
Chapter 309: Aftermath of Hatred
Chapter 310: The Wish of the Dwarves
Chapter 311: Forum Recruits New Members
Chapter 312: Five-Year Compulsory Education
Chapter 313: Building the Spellcaster Academy
Chapter 314: Non-Human Exchange Students
Chapter 315: Goods Fair on the Barren Lands

Chapter 316: The Civilian Popularization of Magical Technology

Chapter 317: Exclusive Rights to Medicine
Chapter 318: The Visitor Seeks Someone
Chapter 319: A Long-Awaited Message
Chapter 320: A Token of Friendship
Chapter 321: The Gloomy Sea

Chapter 322: The Old Classmate Who Rose from the Coffin

Chapter 323: The Necromantic Cult
Chapter 324: The Lich’s Calamity
Chapter 325: Calling for Backup
Chapter 326: Sanctum of the Dead
Chapter 327: Aberrant Devouring
Chapter 328: Reversing the Ritual
Sudden Business Trip, Taking a Day Off!

Chapter 329: Soul Extraction and the Severance of Desire

Chapter 330: An Unconventional Path to Immortality

Chapter 331: An Invitation of Coaxing and Deceit

Chapter 332: The Return Plan
Chapter 333: Traffic Accident
Chapter 334: Guests or Settlers?
Chapter 335: Talent Recruitment

Chapter 336: Graduation Ceremony and Further Studies Plan

Chapter 337: Sights and Sounds of the Outpost
Chapter 338: Corpse Collecting
Chapter 339: Ashe’s Wish
Chapter 340: Romeo and Juliet
Chapter 341: A Candidate for the Male Lead
Chapter 342: The Show Begins
Chapter 343: An Unexpected Reaction
Chapter 344: A Love Kindled by the Stage
Chapter 345: The Resurrection Experiment
Chapter 346: Reforging the School of Casting
Chapter 347: Magic Science Research Institute
Chapter 348: The Expanded Development Plan

Taking a Day Off for a Business Trip at the Start of the Month!

Chapter 349: The First Signs of Civil War
Chapter 350: “Spirit” and “Soul”
Chapter 351: The Blocked Path of Advancement
Chapter 352: The Omen Above the Starry Sky
Chapter 353: An Unknown Starfield
Chapter 354: Finding Answers on the Forum
Chapter 355: A Population Strategy
Chapter 356: The Transport Tunnel
Chapter 357: The Caliber of Justice
Chapter 358: Magical Bursting Shell
Chapter 359: The Battle Plan

Chapter 360: The Raid on Three-Forks Town (Part 1)

Chapter 361: The Raid on Three-Forks Town (Part 2)

Chapter 362: A “Peaceful” Handover
Chapter 363: Already Prepared
Chapter 364: Human Trafficker
Chapter 365: Deterrence Operation
Chapter 366: The Magical Energy Barrett

Chapter X: Sudden Business Trip, Taking a Day Off!

Chapter 367: Luring the Snake Out of Its Hole
Chapter 368: We’re Already Here
Chapter 369: An Unexpected Failure
Chapter 370: The Aftermath of Fear
Chapter 371: Intelligence Feedback
Chapter 372: Pursuit and a Call for Aid
Chapter 373: The Manual Aerial Bomb
Chapter 374: Late Winter Beast Tide
Chapter 375: Flesh and Blood
Chapter 376: A Sudden Change in Mana
Chapter 377: The “Living” Magic Core
Chapter 378: The Trap
Chapter 379: Source Resonance
Chapter 380: The “Machine” Crisis
Chapter 381: The Truth of the Fusion
Chapter 382: Vanished on the Spot
Chapter 383: Controlling the Swarm
Chapter 384: Ancient Memories
Chapter 385: The Truth of the World
Chapter 386: The Speed of ‘Grapevine’ News
Chapter 387: Full-Scale Military Expansion!
Chapter 388: Barrage of Death
Chapter 389: The Progressive
Chapter 390: Connecting North and South
Taking a Day Off This Weekend!

Chapter 391: The Magical-Powered Train (Part 1)

Chapter 392: The Magical-Powered Train (Part 2)

Chapter 393: Intelligence Network
Chapter 394: Pre-War Mobilization
Chapter 395: Setting Out on the Expedition
Chapter 396: “Steamroll” Operation
Chapter 397: Street Fight
Chapter 398: A Resounding Victory
Chapter 399: Tying Up Loose Ends
Chapter 400: Sweeping the Surrounding Area
Chapter 401: New Order
Chapter 402: Public Trial
Chapter 403: Coercion and Enticement

Chapter 404: The Deliberation on Founding a City

Chapter: Taking a Day Off!
Chapter 405: Proactive Exploration
Chapter 406: Hot Air Balloon Test Flight
Chapter 407: The Central Station
Chapter 408: Grain and Assessment
Chapter 409: Setting an Example
Chapter 410: The Promulgation of the Laws
Chapter 411: The New Southern Army
Chapter 412: Eastern Expansion
Chapter 413: Named for a Spark
Chapter 414: Founding Day
Chapter 415: Stock Issuance
Chapter 416: The Airship
Chapter 417: Eastern Inspection
Chapter 418: The Journey North
Chapter 419: Depths of the Icefields
Chapter 420: Refugee Settlement

Chapter 421: The Tribe Beneath the Snowy Mountain

Chapter 422: The Beacon’s Vow
Chapter 423: Mirage
Chapter 424: Night Raiders

Chapter 425: The Ruins of Eternal Night (Part 1)

Chapter 426: Ruins of Eternal Night (Part 2)

Chapter 427: The Ruins of Eternal Night (Part 2)

Chapter 428: The Disaster of the Land-Sea

Chapter 429: Exploration Base and Permanent Fortifications

Chapter 430: Archaeological Expedition
Chapter 431: The Watchers
Chapter 432: The Beginnings of a Navy
Chapter 433: Submarine Design Plans
Chapter 434: The Military General Staff
Chapter 435: Magical Steel-Forging
Chapter 436: Factional Strife

Chapter 437: Securing the Borders, Pacifying the Interior

Chapter 438: The Dissolution Furnace
Chapter 439: The Missing Grand Duke
Chapter 440: Prelude to War
Chapter 441: The Lion of the North (Part 1)

Chapter 442: The Lion of the Northern Realm (Part 2)

Chapter 443: The Enemy is at the Gates (Part 1)

Chapter 444: The Enemy is at the Gates (Part 2)

Chapter 445: The Battle for the Capital
Chapter 446: Deterrence Offensive
Chapter 447: Crushing by Public Opinion
Chapter 448: The Desperate Bait

Chapter 449: Besieging a Point to Strike at the Reinforcements

Chapter 450: Spear of Radiance
Chapter 451: The Gunnery Matrix
Chapter 452: The Bloody Stage
Chapter 453: The New Recruit’s Transformation
Chapter 454: Accepting Surrender

Chapter 455: Settling the Score and Shifting the Blame

Chapter 456: Removal and Confiscation
Chapter 457: The Truth of the Civil Unrest
Chapter 458: The Strategy to Crown a King
Chapter 459: The Spoils of War
Chapter 460: Rebuilding the Federation Branch
Chapter 461: A New School of Necromancy

Chapter 462: Slapped in the Face, One After Another (Part 1)

Chapter: Taking a Day Off!

Chapter 463: A Slap in the Face, One After Another (Part 2)

Chapter 464: Soul Spellcasting

Chapter 465: The Temptation of Mechanical Ascension

Chapter 466: Before the Return Journey
Chapter 467: Excessive Conscription
Chapter 468: A New Knightly Spirit
Chapter 469: A New Journey
Chapter 470: The Schism in the Holy See
Chapter 471: The “Ice Fishing” Plan
Chapter 472: Entrapment Drill

Chapter 473: The Rougher the Seas, the Pricier the ‘Fish’

Chapter 474: Dead or Alive, It Doesn’t Matter
Taking a Sick Day Tomorrow!
Chapter 475: Encirclement
Chapter 476: A Bountiful Return
Chapter 477: Outsiders
Chapter 478: Entering the City
Chapter 479: Live Specimen Testing
Chapter 480: Autopsy Report
Chapter 481: The Demonic Lizardmen

Chapter 482: The Northern Realm, A Hard Place to Settle

Chapter 483: An Archives Management Talent
Chapter 484: A Nominal Call to Surrender
Chapter 485: Explosive Population Growth
Chapter 486: Public Order and Food Crisis
Chapter 487: Daylight Robbery
Chapter 488: The Koffman Family
Chapter 489: Staff and Officers
Chapter 490: Debt Collection Operation
Chapter 491: The Battle of Bluebramble City
Chapter 492: The Peculiar Priest
Chapter 493: Transporting Slaves
Chapter 494: The Price of Freedom
Chapter 495: Aid from Da’ers
Chapter 496: Returning Fully-Laden
Chapter 497: A Letter from the Holy City
Chapter 498: Laying the Cards on the Table
Chapter 499: Gunboat Diplomacy
Chapter 500: The Slave’s Brand
Chapter 501: A Nation-Building Wonder
Chapter 502: A Harvest Festival Surprise
Chapter 503: Harvey’s “Mongol Navy”
Chapter 504: The Ironclad Ship Trade
Chapter 505: The Import-Export Company
Chapter 506: The Second Battlefield
Chapter 507: Mending the Pen

Chapter 508: A New Challenge for the Shepherd Knight

Chapter 509: Catalyzing Beetles
Chapter 510: A Reason for War, Delivered
Chapter 511: The Second High-Ranking Demon
Chapter 512: New Portable Cannon

Taking two days off for Spring Festival, wishing everyone a Happy New Year!

Chapter 513: Political Marriage
Chapter 514: Late Autumn Splendor
Chapter 515: The Eve of the Military Parade
Chapter 516: Absolute Truth

Chapter 517: The Total Coverage Firepower Matrix

Chapter 518: Hope and Ideals
Chapter 519: The Beacons of War are Lit
Chapter 520: A Powerful Lure
Chapter 521: Blitz on Highland City!

Chapter 522: A Coordinated Attack from Within and Without

Chapter 523: The Supplies Arrive

Chapter 524: The Rootless People

Chapter 525: The Secret Treasures of the Two Races

Chapter 526: Knowledge Knows No Seniority
Chapter 527: Stone of Life
Chapter 528: Elemental Editing
Chapter 529: New Life
Chapter 530: Harvest Number One
Chapter 531: Magically Altered Grain Seeds
Chapter 532: Stockpiling Grain
Chapter 533: Ascension and Coronation
Chapter 534: The Emperor’s Gift
Chapter 535: Mind Invasion
Chapter 536: Roaming the Abyss

Chapter 537: Board the Ship First, Buy the Ticket Later

Chapter 538: Three Lines of Defense
Chapter 539: Arriving at the Great Rift
Chapter 540: The Man-Made “Mediterranean”
Chapter 541: “They’re here”
Chapter 542: Highest Alert
Chapter 543: Pre-war Announcement
Chapter 544: The People’s Weekly
Chapter 545: Upwelling Number 13
Chapter 546: The Infiltration Plan
Chapter 547: Planting Bombs and Bombing
Chapter 548: Death from Above
Chapter 549: Key Intelligence
Chapter 550: Regeneration Chamber
Chapter 551: Air Superiority
Chapter 552: A Discussion on Evolution
Chapter 553: Strategic Withdrawal
Chapter 554: Migration Negotiations
Chapter 555: Swift Rescue
Chapter 556: Bloody Standoff
Chapter 557: Cleaning up the Mess
Chapter 558: The Promised Oasis
Chapter 559: A Brand New Home
Chapter 560: A Sentinel’s Diary
Chapter 561: Winged Demonic Lizardmen

Chapter 562: A Fight to the Death and Annihilation

Chapter 563: Aerial Combat Mages
Chapter 564: A Legend Arrives
Chapter 565: Talent Recruitment
Chapter 566: The Transformation of Magic
Chapter 567: The Chief’s New Prison
Chapter 568: Joining Hands
Chapter 569: Beam Weapons
Chapter 570: Energy Barrage
Taking a Day Off at the Start of the Month!
Chapter 571: The Abyssal Sea Chart
Chapter 572: Salas’s Goodwill
Chapter 573: The Navy’s “Southern Expedition”
Chapter 574: Military Restructuring
Chapter 575: A Genius at Modification
Chapter 576: Air Defense Alert
Chapter 577: The Non-human’s Probe
Chapter 578: Anti-Air Raid (Part 1)
Chapter 579: Anti-Air Raid (Part 2)
Chapter 580: Shallow-Water Gunboat
Chapter 581: A Long-Awaited Meeting
Chapter 582: A Banquet at the Castle
Chapter 583: The Battle Plan
Chapter 584: The Assembly Call
Chapter 585: Seizing the Initiative
Chapter 586: Medium-Range Bombardment
Chapter 587: Interception (Part 1)
Chapter 588: Holding Action (Part 2)
Chapter 589: Reinforcements
Chapter 590: Raging Tide
Chapter 591: A Hard-Fought Victory
Chapter 592: Post-Battle Debriefing
Chapter 593: A Smooth Return
Chapter 594: Medical Inspection
Chapter 595: Belonging
Chapter 596: Victory Day (End of Volume)

Chapter 597: A Frank Discussion About the Future

Chapter 598: Aberrant Advancement
Chapter 599: An Overture for Peace
Chapter 600: The Doom of the Hussars
Chapter 601: The Incomplete Sea Chart
Chapter 602: The Strange Dotted Line
Chapter 603: A Swelling Undercurrent
Chapter 604: Consumer Trends
Chapter 605: High-Speed Flight Training
Chapter 606: Black Water Burns the City
Chapter 607: The Eastern and Western Fronts
Chapter 608: Reserve Militia
Chapter 609: Ambushed
Chapter 610: The Eve of Great Change

Chapter 611: The Intertwining of Light and Dark

Chapter 612: Collapse
Chapter 613: Magicalized Armor
Chapter 614: Heretical Thought
Chapter 615: A Meeting in the Magic Net
Chapter 616: A Call for Help
Chapter 617: A Shocking Truth
Chapter 618: An Agreement is Reached
Chapter 619: A Flurry of Dissent
Chapter 620: The Final Word
Chapter 621: The Giant Cannon
Chapter 622: Massing of Troops
Chapter 623: The Art of Aerial Combat
Chapter 624: Indiscriminate Bombing
Chapter 625: “A Mess”
Chapter 626: Hopeless Exile
Chapter 627: Watchdog
Chapter 628: Main Battle Armor
Chapter 629: Military Control
Chapter 630: Mopping Up the Remnants

Taking Leave at the Start of the Month for a Business Trip!

Chapter 631: The Secret of Fusion
Chapter 632: Visitors from the Sea
Chapter 633: Aesthetic Differences
Chapter 634: Baiting the “Fish”
Chapter 635: Mountain Offensive
Chapter 636: The Siege
Chapter 637: Precision Bombardment

Chapter 638: Remnants of the Divine Punishment Faction

Chapter 639: “Dirty Work”
Chapter 640: The Emperor’s Tacit Approval
Chapter 641: Maritime Development Rights
Chapter 642: Oceanic Prospecting
Chapter 643: The New Recruits Arrive
Chapter 644: A Strange Recruitment Order
Chapter 645: Fear Resistance Test
Chapter 646: Dream Hunt
Chapter 647: Perfect Match
Chapter 648: Monetary Reform
Chapter 649: The Earl’s Business
Chapter 650: The Emperor’s Credibility

Chapter 651: The Currency Validator and the Entry Ticket

Chapter 652: Policy Reactions
Chapter 653: The Stagnant Situation
Chapter 654: The Knack of Raising Silkworms

Chapter [arabic_numeral]: Family Emergency, Taking a Day Off!

Chapter 655: Demon Armor Fitting (Part 1)
Chapter 656: Demon Armor Deployment (Part 2)
Chapter 657: Joint Venture
Chapter 658: Codename “Ice Seal”
Chapter 659: War Mobilization
Chapter 660: Starfire Warriors
Chapter 661: The True Meaning of Transcendent
Chapter 662: A Merciless Thrashing
Chapter 663: A Thirst for Battle
Chapter 664: The Non-human Race’s Reaction
Chapter 665: The Poisoning Ploy
Chapter 666: A Bizarre Enemy Attack

Chapter 667: The First Shot of the Counterattack!

Chapter 668: Probing and a Tug-of-War
Chapter 669: Surprise Attack
Chapter 670: Night Battle
Chapter 671: The Artillery Position
Chapter 672: Detonating the Curse
Chapter 673: Crisis Averted
Chapter 674: Head-on Confrontation
Chapter 675: First Victory on the Icefields
Chapter 676: Medical Predicament
Chapter 677: Excellent Healers
Chapter 678: The Offensive Stalls
Chapter 679: Battlefield Anecdotes
Chapter 680: The Path of Atonement
Chapter 681: The Meaning of Sacrifice
Chapter 682: Repeating Shotgun
Chapter 683: Practicing Faith

Chapter 684: The Unsophisticated “Holy Rollers”

Chapter 685: City of “Heresy”
Chapter 686: Novel Sights
Chapter: May Day, Taking a Day Off!

Chapter 687: A Myriad of Divine Healing Spells

Chapter 688: Medical Training
Chapter 689: Putting Knowledge to Use
Chapter 690: Gelled Incendiary Bomb
Chapter 691: Test Detonation
Chapter 692: Soul Extraction
Chapter 693: The Spirit of a Non-human
Chapter 694: Interrogation and Deciphering
Chapter 695: The Secret of the Legacy
Chapter 696: The Essence of the Magic Net
Chapter 697: Mirrored Twins

Chapter 698: The Northern Realm’s Esoteric Society

Chapter 699: A Real Eye-Opener
Chapter 700: Suppressive Bombardment
Chapter 701: Number Four Floating Island
Chapter 702: The Arriving Evolved One
Chapter 703: Mana Devourer
Chapter 704: A Bitter Fight

Sudden Business Trip, Taking a Day Off Tomorrow!

Chapter 705: Desperate Battle
Chapter 706: The True Guardians
Chapter 707: Mutual Destruction
Chapter 708: The Successor
Chapter 709: The Counterattack
Chapter 710: Mop-up and Rout
Chapter 711: Remembrance and Inspiration
Chapter 712: The Kingdom’s New Policy
Chapter 713: A Warlike Mood
Chapter 714: Population “Tyranny”
Chapter 715: The State Apparatus
Chapter 716: Sustainable Development
Chapter 717: A Proactive Test
Chapter 718: Stirring
Chapter 719: The Meaning of a “Natural Enemy”
Chapter 720: Punishment Mission
Sudden Business Trip, Taking a Day Off!
Chapter 721: Confinement
Chapter 722: Words of Experience
Chapter 723: Turmoil on the Border
Chapter 724: Opening the Pass
Chapter 725: An Assignment
Chapter 726: The Hardliner
Chapter 727: A Difficult Dilemma
Chapter 728: A Novice on the Road
Chapter 729: Long-Distance Transfer
Chapter 730: Transport Under Fire
Chapter 731: A Life-or-Death Rescue
Chapter 732: A Narrow Escape
Chapter 733: Confidence and Assurance
Chapter 734: The Price of Deception
Chapter 735: Thunder on a Rainy Night
Chapter 736: Speculating on Attitudes
Chapter 737: Labor Diversion
Chapter 738: Grassland Offensive
Chapter 739: The Hunting Rally
Chapter 740: A Dangerous Signal
Chapter 741: Shadowy Demonic Traces
Chapter 742: Urgent Message

Taking a Day Off for the Dragon Boat Festival!

Chapter 743: Chain Reaction
Chapter 744: Night Meeting
Chapter 745: Probing and Worries

Chapter 746: “Once You Arrive, You’re a Citizen of the Capital”

Chapter 747: The Eastern Defense Line
Chapter 748: Full-Scale Evacuation
Chapter 749: The Eve of Departure
Chapter 750: Army Physician
Chapter 751: The Hunter and the Prey
Chapter 752: The Encirclement
Chapter 753: The Breakthrough
Chapter 754: Ambush
Chapter 755: Fierce Battle
Chapter 756: The True Purpose
Chapter 757: Battlefield First Aid
Chapter 758: Developments
Chapter 759: Captive Transfer
Chapter 760: Analysis of the Aberrant State
Chapter 761: Eligible Bachelor
Chapter 762: Side Effect
Business Trip on the Weekend
Chapter 763: Military Potion Company
Chapter 764: The Reserves
Chapter 765: Searching for the Guns
Chapter 766: Misunderstanding
Chapter 767: Magic Stones and Rifles
Chapter 768: Militia Guerrilla Units
Chapter 769: Stalemate and Street Fighting
Chapter 770: The ‘Guides’
Chapter 771: Underwater Demolition
Chapter 772: Contacting the Resistance
Chapter 773: The Main Direction of Attack
Chapter 774: Joint Operations
Chapter 775: Returning Home

Chapter 776: The Beacon Fires of the Front Lines

Chapter 777: Chaos in the Southeast

Chapter 778: Lying in Wait for the Perfect Opportunity

Chapter 779: Assault
Chapter 780: Survivors
Chapter 781: High-Risk Infiltration

Chapter 782: The Martyr’s Intelligence (Part 1)

No Update Today, Taking a Break!

Chapter 783: The Martyr’s Intelligence (Part 2)

Chapter 784: Information Feedback
Chapter 785: Short-acting Stimulant
Chapter 786: Bloody Tug-of-War
Chapter 787: Defend to the Death
Chapter 788: Recovering Supplies
Chapter 789: Close-Quarters Combat
Chapter 790: A Moment’s Respite
Chapter 791: Logistical Support
Chapter 792: Bombing
Update Schedule Announcement
Chapter 793: Scorched City
Chapter 794: Black Cat, White Cat
Chapter 795: Morale Boost
Chapter 796: Multi-pronged Counterattack
Chapter 797: The Vast Ocean of People’s War
Chapter 798: “Skirmisher”
Chapter 799: Ironwood Hills

Chapter 800: Fierce Battle in the Dense Forest

Chapter 801: “Reinforcements”