When the last statistical table was handed to Barov, the chief steward breathed a sigh of relief and waved to his subordinates, "You may leave."
"Yes."
The latter bowed respectfully and closed the office door behind him as he left.
Only the old chief steward remained in the room.
He opened a drawer, took out more than a dozen forms, spread them flat on the table, and stacked the latest one on top, neatly aligning them.
In this way, all the supplies needed for His Majesty's expedition were ready.
Barov gently caressed the papers, as if stroking the tender and smooth skin of a maiden. To ordinary people, the rows of numbers seemed like complex codes, but to him, they were a beautiful piece of music.
In just a week and a half, Neverwinter City completed a massive logistical mobilization. Both the grain and the gold dragons exceeded any previous expedition. Through the plans and statistical tables, he could see ship after ship of wheat heading north along the inland river, and he could hear the pleasant sound of the gold dragons colliding with each other as they were dispersed.
This feeling intoxicated him, making it difficult to extricate himself.
If he were to give the piece of music a name, there was no doubt that "Power" would be the most appropriate.
And now, this power lay in his hands, at his disposal.
After three years of accumulation, the strength accumulated by Neverwinter City had reached an unbelievable level—not just in the army, but in all aspects. When he was an assistant to the Minister of Finance in the old royal capital, he had a certain understanding of the financial situation of various places in Graycastle. It was because of this understanding that he realized how amazing Roland Wimbledon's achievements were.
The resources flowing into Neverwinter City now probably matched the sum of all other cities in Graycastle.
It was a pity that he had no one to share this joy with.
Barov took off his monocle and glanced at the empty desk opposite him.
The only person in the entire City Hall who could understand these numbers and experience pleasure from them was probably the Pearl of the North. Sometimes he often felt that the other party was the same kind of person as him.
However, this regret disappeared in an instant. Compared to enjoying power alone, there was nothing that could not be given up.
He stood up, walked to the window, took out a special coin from his pocket, and spread it on his palm. Under the sunlight of late spring, the "mountain" pattern engraved on the surface of the coin shone brightly.
This was the emblem of the Mutual Aid Society he found in the Western Region forest three years ago.
He secretly kept it, originally thinking of using it as evidence of the lord colluding with witches in exchange for his safety when the church invaded the Western Region. But now, this emblem had become his lucky charm.
His Majesty, who sheltered witches, was evil? Of course not. What was evil were those who were defeated by His Majesty—they had no power, yet they held high positions. That was the greatest crime. Even the devils of the wilderness were not as detestable as them.
Fortunately, this situation would not last long.
Although His Majesty's final decision to attack Dawn first would delay the moment he was looking forward to, he had waited for more than twenty years, so what was another year?
Graycastle should be handed over to someone more capable to manage it.
When His Majesty unified the kingdom and ascended the throne, he would also climb to the pinnacle of power.
Barov stroked his beard and couldn't help but laugh.
*******************
"Today's test ends here. Have you packed your luggage?" Agatha asked while sorting out experimental data, "Tomorrow is the day of departure. Don't leave anything behind."
"I don't have extra clothes, nor do I have any items to carry," Isabella shook her head and replied calmly. Life in Neverwinter City was simpler than she had imagined. Apart from repeatedly using her abilities on the God's Stone for the Icewitch to observe and record, she could spend the rest of her time as she pleased, as long as she didn't leave the Diplomatic Building. There was no harassment or humiliation. The relationship between witches was completely different from that of the Pure. She sometimes even felt that Agatha's attitude towards her was the same as towards other witches, with almost no difference.
"By the way," she added after finishing speaking, "Thank you for telling me about what happened last time."
"Are you talking about the news from the church?" Agatha shrugged, "If it were me, I would also want to go back and take a look, whether to say goodbye or to make a clean break. But let's not talk about that now. You can't go on the road like this... It's my fault. I didn't even realize that you've been wearing the same outfit all the time." She put down her notebook, frowned and walked to Isabella's side, grabbed her sleeve and felt it. "It's already faded here, and it's still winter clothes. Are you planning to suffocate in it when the weather gets warmer?"
"It's nothing," Isabella originally wanted to say that she had undergone more rigorous training, but after thinking about it, she swallowed the second half of the sentence.
"This expedition isn't a matter of one or two months. Not to mention whether there are conditions on the road for you to wash your clothes every day, even your companions can't stand it." Agatha decided without hesitation, "While there's still time, I'll take you to the Convenience Market to pick out a few suitable clothes."
The companions she mentioned made her slightly stunned. She was silent for a moment before saying, "But... I don't have money."
She was a person atoning for her sins, so naturally she wouldn't be able to receive a salary every month like the members of the Witch Union.
"I have a way," Agatha said casually, "Let's just say I'm lending it to you."
"But I have to pay it back in five years..."
"Compared to the hundreds of years of waiting in Taqila, five years is a very short time, isn't it?" the Icewitch interrupted, "The upcoming Battle of Divine Will probably won't end so easily. You can't always be like this, unless you want to. " Saying this, she stretched out her hand, "So what are you hesitating about?"
Isabella didn't answer. She suddenly felt that the setting sun shining in from the window was a bit dazzling.
In the golden afterglow, Agatha's figure gradually faded away, leaving only the outstretched hand.
She lowered her head and grasped the other's palm.
At that moment, the sunlight seemed to be connected to her.
*******************
"Is it really okay for me to go with you?" Anna asked, lying in Roland's arms, blinking her lake-blue eyes.
He had been busy settling the God's Punishment Witches recently. It had been a long time since he had enjoyed such a world of two. It was because of this that even after nightfall, the two of them were still whispering endlessly, as if they wanted to make up for all the words they had owed each other before.
"We've been preparing for so long, it's okay to rest for a while," Roland said, stroking her smooth back, "Besides, this expedition isn't entirely for combat. Propaganda is also very important—like familiarizing yourself with everyone. It wouldn't be good to attend a banquet without an excellent woman by your side."
Anna responded softly and buried her head shyly. By the bright moonlight, Roland saw a faint blush on her cheeks.
With her intelligence, she could obviously understand the meaning of these words.
Appearing as the king's companion on formal occasions was a statement in itself.
"I once said that one day, all the citizens of Graycastle will know your name, even if you are a witch," he said seriously.
Anna didn't ask questions like "Wouldn't that be bad?" or "What if everyone objects?" Instead, she remained silent for a while before replying in the same serious tone, "Even if I am a witch, I want to be with you, no matter what happens in the future."
Roland raised the corners of his mouth. This answer was indeed her usual style.
"Well, it's a deal then."
...
The next day, the docks of Neverwinter City were crowded with people. Cement ships carrying the First Army and war materials formed a column and slowly left the bank of the Redwater River.
Sailing at the front of the fleet was the Roland, and at the top of this flagship, the Tower and Lance flag, symbolizing the Graycastle royal family, fluttered in the wind, attracting everyone's attention. Everyone in Neverwinter City knew that when their lord returned again, he would become the only king of this land.
Someone shouted "Long live His Majesty" first,
After that, the entire dock resounded with the same cry.
Like thunder rolling across the sky, or like a starting horn—
In the cheers of long live, the war began.