The gentle moonlight bathed the earth at night, as if a thin layer of white snow had been sprinkled over it, rendering the entire fortress like a castle out of a fairytale.
Although the Unyielding Bastion had not yet improved from years of neglect due to insufficient funds for maintenance, after Sheriff Green the Merchant confiscated a massive sum of embezzled money, the grand fortress had at least become much tidier and cleaner.
What’s more, with the heavens favoring them tonight, this fortress—long praised in countless legends but lately fallen into ruin—finally seemed full of life once more.
“So beautiful.”
The fortress commander, Seventh Imperial Princess Theresa, stood at the fortress gates, gazing up at Green’s handiwork, unable to suppress a smile.
“Green, I didn’t expect you to be so talented at interior design as well?”
Theresa grinned playfully.
Under the moonlight, Her Highness the Princess looked even more enchanting.
She had shed her usual overcoat and donned a well-fitted, elegant gown. Snow-white gloves hung on her hands, but at her waist she still wore the imperial sword bestowed upon her—perfectly blending the fresh beauty of a maiden with the dashing spirit of a soldier.
“As a bard, it’s only natural for me to know a thing or two about design.”
But, of course, when Green redecorated, his considerations went far beyond appearances.
In fact, over the past few months, while tirelessly restoring the fortress’s battered places, Green had also imbued the entire bastion with the pure power of holy light from his own body.
At this moment, the Unyielding Bastion might appear no different than before except for its improved looks.
But in truth, the fortress’s most vital function—Defence—had already undergone a complete transformation.
“With this, even if the Crown Prince tries any schemes—say, letting that female magician and her companions sneak in to assassinate Your Highness—they’ll never succeed.”
Though Green anticipated that the Crown Prince, famed for his cunning, was unlikely to resort to such crude methods, one could never be too careful.
Especially when dealing with an Envoy from the capital, extra caution was always warranted.
Hmm…
“But, the exact relationship between the Crown Prince and that group of magicians still needs careful scrutiny.”
Judging by the way things played out and Theresa’s own experience, it didn’t seem especially complicated.
To seize the throne, the Crown Prince enlisted the help of the female magician and her cohort, using immortality and prophecy as means to first eliminate the most threatening yet least powerful rival—Theresa.
From that perspective, the magicians seemed to be simply the Crown Prince’s subordinates—no need for further suspicion.
But…
Green remembered the legendary powerhouse he had met that morning—the venerable Old Andy, who had disguised himself as a traveling merchant along the border for the sake of revenge.
“Are you talking about the female magician?” A trace of surprise flashed across Old Andy’s face. “I never imagined someone as strong as you would care about those despicable schemers.”
Despicable schemers?
Green was astonished that intelligence experts like Andy and his group didn’t realize the true danger of the magicians, seeing them only as petty villains the Crown Prince used to curry favor with the superstitious Emperor.
Yet the female magician and her companions clearly possessed strength far above the legendary peak, and still acted extremely low-key, and…
“The relationship between the Crown Prince and them doesn’t seem to be as simple as mere loyalty to a monarch.”
Yes—considering the power the magicians displayed, it was no exaggeration to say that even if the entire Empire mobilized to hunt them down, the odds would be only fifty-fifty.
Given that, their ambitions probably weren’t limited to “helping a new Emperor ascend and then enjoying wealth and luxury”—such a petty goal.
So, what was it they truly sought?
Green was still pondering, but fortunately, the Envoy from the capital might inadvertently reveal more details.
So, Green simply stood quietly at Theresa’s side, waiting for the Envoy to arrive.
In the silence, the Imperial Envoy from the capital suddenly appeared.
A colossal figure loomed in the dark sky, blocking the gentle moonlight, and for a moment, it seemed as if the whole world had plunged into darkness.
The roaring engines thundered like war drums, pounding heavily in everyone’s hearts.
“Magic Warship.”
Green’s expression was complicated as he looked toward that symbol of the Empire’s ultimate power—an apex of magical technology, combining formations, Alchemy, Crystal Mechanics, and a host of other fields, built at unimaginable cost into a weapon of slaughter.
“Even a legendary powerhouse would instinctively feel fear in the face of a Magic Warship.”
And so it was.
It was said that in an ancient era so remote as to be untraceable, the legendary Golden Empire once used fleets of Floating Warships to sweep across the world—they could even lift entire cities into the sky.
With such technology, even the gods themselves had been cast down from their divine realms.
“So this is my royal brother’s power?”
For a moment, Theresa fell silent as well.
Though she’d always known she was far from matching the Crown Prince or the regency, witnessing such might in person made even Theresa’s resolute heart falter.
“Their intentions are not good.” Green instantly deduced the purpose.
Intimidation.
It was a simple envoy appointment—there was no need for such an extravagant display. Yet the Crown Prince had gone so far as to deploy a Floating Warship, making his intentions crystal clear.
It was to put them—Theresa and her followers—in their place.
No matter that you defeated ten thousand barbarians with just eight hundred, working miracles, nor that legendary powerhouses have joined your side. Before me… you are still subject to my whims of life and death.
Rumble—rumble—rumble!
As the Floating Warship drew ever nearer, powerful air currents swept over them.
Whoosh—whoosh!
The previously neat reception line outside the fortress struggled to stay upright in the fierce wind, many on the verge of being blown down.
“Hmph.” Green narrowed his eyes.
As the most refined product of magical technology, controlling the air currents for a smooth landing would have been simple.
Yet the other side made no attempt to ease the turbulence.
Green certainly didn’t believe this was an “accident” by the warship’s helmsman.
Bzzz—
Green stood tall and firm, letting a fierce aura surge from his body to form a barrier, shielding the reception line behind him from the forceful winds.
Hiss—hiss.
The Floating Warship, several hundred meters long, finally descended. Amidst the deafening roar of the engines, the warship’s gates lowered, and rows of Crystal Cannons aligned directly at Green, shining with a silvery-gray light in the moonlight, as if ready to fire at any moment.
Even a legendary powerhouse would not escape unscathed before dozens of Crystal Cannons.
Yet Green’s smile remained unchanged, as if he hadn’t noticed the lethal muzzles fixed upon him.
Clack.
The hatch opened, and several figures stepped out.
Whoosh—
Through the rushing wind, what caught Green’s eye first was a flag emblazoned with a golden Crown and a Black Dragon.
The Imperial Flag.
In the rigidly stratified Empire, this flag naturally held immense significance.
Shua—shua—shua.
At the sight of that flag, everyone present—including Theresa—immediately dropped to one knee.
Where the flag was, it was as if the Emperor himself was present.
This was the greatest privilege of a capital Envoy: when reading an imperial edict, all must treat him as the supreme Emperor, no matter their own rank.
“Former heir to the throne, Seventh Imperial Princess, Commander of the Unyielding Bastion, Theresa de Pantiate, hear the decree—”
Standing beneath the Imperial Flag, holding a mithril scroll, the Envoy was a middle-aged man in a plain gray robe, sporting a messy beard.
With a cold, emotionless tone, he recited the edict, which in name came from the Emperor but was actually crafted by the Crown Prince.
“Though you are the child of a criminal, in consideration that you still serve the Empire, you are specially promoted to Western Commander, in charge of the campaign against the Orc Kingdom. May the God of Light aid you in expanding our territory and redeeming your crimes through merit.”
After finishing, the gray-robed man slowly put away the mithril scroll, his frigid gaze fixed on the bowed Theresa.
That’s it?
Theresa felt a chill in her heart.
She never imagined that after routing a ten-thousand-strong enemy force with only eight hundred, the reward would be so perfunctory.
Theresa herself didn’t care that she received no real reward, but what about everyone else?
Green, who single-handedly changed the tide of battle; Martin, who held his post with unwavering dedication; Colonel Ryan, whose ambush sent the enemy fleeing in panic—
And all those brave souls who died, fighting to the last against overwhelming odds?
So many questions wound tightly around Theresa’s heart.
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