Chapter 1021: Graycastle Weekly
The moment she settled onto the couch, the padding creaked and gave.
I should tell the tavern to reinforce this thing, Victor thought, one hand resting on the curved armrest. Though perhaps it doesn’t matter — the bed in the corner serves its own purposes, and novelty has its own pleasures. Compared to the great parlors of the City of Glow, everything here is plainly made. But plain things sometimes yield the most honest surprises.
Before long, Tinkle had cleared the drinks and food from the table and spread the newspapers across it like a map.
Victor’s eyebrows rose.
The words were small and dense — the kind of close-set text he associated with treasured family archives and royal codes. He’d spent a lifetime assessing value at a glance: a ruby’s fire, a merchant’s debts, the worth hidden inside ordinary-looking crates. But this gave him pause. He couldn’t decide what it was worth.
The type was too neat and uniform for handwriting. Which meant it had been printed.
Printing was not a casual undertaking. The cost of a proper press run demanded serious material: untrimmed lambskin as a baseline, often edged with gilded lines and set with gemstones. Preservation was the whole point — such books were made to outlast the men who’d ordered them.
This was different. The paper was coarse — papyrus, rough to the touch, the kind that would dissolve in water. No cover. No reinforced corners. Left unprotected on a table, it would shred after a few readings. In every material sense, it was worthless. And yet someone had pressed elegant type into it — a jewel set in scrap iron.
The maid had mentioned something before. The king intended this to replace the public announcement board.
“Would it carry new content each time?” he’d asked.
“Yes,” she’d answered. “Every two weeks, according to the announcement. The quantity would increase until most people could read it.”
Ten bronze royals per copy.
Victor turned this over quietly. How much wealth had Roland stripped from Hermes? A man with that kind of surplus could afford to lose money on novelty projects. The jewelry trader who’d briefly entertained thoughts of a business opportunity let the idea go without mourning it.
Not my money, he thought. Not my concern. Focus on the paper.
He turned to the first page.
The title was enlarged, bold, high on the page: Graycastle Weekly.
Below it, a full page on the king’s enthronement and the pact signed between Graycastle and the Kingdom of Dawn against the demons.
He’d heard both things mentioned — but never in detail.
After reading the first few lines, he stopped thinking about anything else.
He read with held breath. Here for the first time were the actual details, rendered from the perspective of those who’d been present: accurate times, specific places, causes laid out cleanly, process and result following in order. The treachery of the Moya family, the nobles’ rebellion, the letter for help that had traveled a thousand kilometers — each thread showed how the Graycastle army’s expedition had become, in the end, logical. Natural. The new King of Dawn had needed Roland Wimbledon; Roland Wimbledon had provided exactly what was needed.
The account was certainly shaped to the king’s advantage. Victor knew that. And yet he found himself believing it anyway — not through credulity, but because a story this coherent and this openly stated was persuasive in itself. Men who intend to deceive don’t lay the evidence plainly on the table.
He’d forgotten Tinkle entirely.
The second page was given to the demons. A detailed daily record of First Army operations — a narrative of the expedition into the western wilds, the attacks on demon positions, the aftermath. He’d heard none of this before.
When he had last come to Neverwinter, there had been talk of Devilbeast raids on the border. He hadn’t imagined the king would respond with a counteroffensive. But here it was: the First Army, advancing into the Forbidden Land, striking hard enough that the demons had withdrawn from the Western Region entirely.
How?
The question rose before he’d finished reading the sentence that prompted it. Half-a-month raids over a thousand kilometers of hostile terrain, and then a direct life-or-death confrontation at ten kilometers’ range. His spine felt cold just reading the formation-and-sky-assault passage.
He’d grown up inside Black Money. He knew the world held more weight than most people suspected — powers that did not tire, forces that did not obey ordinary rules. When he’d first heard of the demons in the Kingdom of Dawn, he hadn’t been surprised; he’d simply filed them under things that exist in the dark. The nobles and merchant lords of Dawn had reacted with the same mild concern: a problem for someone else, a term in the mouths of people who wanted funds for something.
No one had moved.
And yet Graycastle had moved. Graycastle had fought them — and won.
Something shifted in Victor’s chest. He couldn’t name the feeling exactly. Safe was too simple a word. It had something to do with the word that had appeared again and again across the page: human. Not Graycastle’s interests, not the king’s ambitions — but something placed outside those ordinary divisions. Reading it, he felt briefly as though he stood beside the First Army — and as though the space between their bloodlines and his had narrowed to nothing.
He let out a breath. He licked his dry lips. He turned to the third page.
Here the tone changed entirely: gossip, local news, oddly titled columns. Shock! What’s Behind the Explosion in the City Last Night? Detective Group Reveals the Secret! — Water Pipe Cracked, Roads Become Skating Tracks! — Bird Beak Mushrooms Recipe Every Neverwinteror Should Know.
He skimmed. He turned the page.
And stopped.
A black-and-white image filled half the sheet. Two girls, hands clasped, stood on snow-covered ground while white flakes swirled around them — beautiful and still and somehow full of movement. He couldn’t look away.
Below the image, a line of clean text:
An art beyond the times, the gift of His Majesty’s enthronement! “The Wolf Princess”, performed by the Star Flower Troupe and the Witches, and written by His Majesty, will be staged at the end of this month. Book your tickets now!
Chapter 1021: Graycastle Weekly
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
The moment she sat on the couch, the padding immediately creaked and bent.
“It seems that I have to remind the tavern to reinforce the couch,” thought Victor, “Though the bed is right in the corner of the room, sometimes it more interesting to not do it in bed. A new place brings unexpected feelings. Compared with the king’s city in the Kingdom of Dawn, the tavern here obviously lacks a profound background.”
Before long, Tinkle cleaned the drinks and food on the table and spread the newspapers out in front of him.
“This is…” Victor couldn’t help raising his eyebrows. He saw small, dense words on the paper, just like the classics which his family treasured.
He used to think that he had seen the most precious of things in the world and even played with them with his hands. Usually, when a commodity was placed in front of him, he could immediately determine its price. However, it was the first time that he was hesitated to make a judgment about something.
Such neat and delicate words were unlikely to be hand-written. In other words, they were probably printed. Considering the cost of printing, it was generally only used for important and rarely modified archives and classics, for example, the Royal Code.
That was where the problem lied. In order to achieve the best printing effect, the best possible materials would be used for printing such great quality books. The lambskin, which had never been shaved, would be considered as the basic material, and it was not unusual to decorate the page with golden lines and jewelry so as to emphasize extraordinary luxury and to ensure adequate durability.
But the newspaper was different. It was obviously made of rough papyrus, which would melt in water. It had neither a cover nor any protective measures at its corners. Even if he read it carefully, it would start to fall apart after a few reads. In his eyes, it was like putting a precious gemstone in an iron ingot.
Victor recalled what the maid said before. The king intended to use this thing to replace the public announcement board. Did that mean that it would be printed with new content in the future?
He got a positive answer from her.
“Yeah, the announcement said the newspaper would be issued every two weeks, and the amount would increase to ensure most people could read it.”
It only costs ten bronze royals for each.
He began to wonder how much wealth had been plundered by King Roland from Hermes. Why would he continue doing this stuff which was doomed to lose money?
The jewelry trader, who previously believed that there might be a business opportunity, gave up his idea immediately.
“Who cares”, Victor whispered secretly. “It’s not my money anyway, and it’s none of my business whether the king earns or loses. I’ll focus on the newspaper.”
Thinking of that, he moved his eyes to the first page.
On the top was an enlarged, bold title: “Graycastle Weekly”.
Below it, a full-page was about the king’s enthronement, as well as the news that the Kingdom of Dawn and Graycastle signed a pact against the demons.
He had heard of them before, but he did not know the details.
After reading a few lines, Victor was completely immersed himself in it.
He held his breath while reading it.
For the first time, he read the details of these two events from the perspective of the high officials. It was different from the rumors that spread among the public populace, the reports on the newspapers included accurate times, places, reasoning, process and results. It even demonstrated their causes, especially for the pact with the Kingdom of Dawn. The treachery of the Moya family, the rebellion of the nobles, and the letter for help which came from 1000 kilometers away. All of these factors led to the expedition of the Graycastle army. Then it was a matter, of course, that the new King of Dawn was willing to restore the kingdom’s order with the help of Roland Wimbledon.
He knew these descriptions were definitely not authentic, but he still subconsciously wanted to believe them. The content was so complete and logically sound that it was difficult not to believe.
In fact, since they dared to put such things on the table directly, it was already convincing enough.
Victor ignored the presence of Tinkle for a time and could not wait to keep reading.
The second page was related to the demons. The writer wrote a detailed daily record of a battle which narrated the expedition of the First Army to the western wilds and its attack on the demons.
This was the first time he had heard of it.
When Victor last came to Neverwinter, he heard that the Devilbeasts had attacked the border. He had never expected the king to initiate revenge for it. Not only did the First Army march into the forbidden land, which was full of danger, it gave its opponents a heavy blow. This made them no longer dare to show up in the Western Region. If what was reported was true, it could almost be described as a legendary event!
“How did they do it?” was the fist thing to pop into Victor’s mind.
Whether it was the half-a-month raids over 1,000 kilometers away or the life-and-death confrontation that was merely 10 kilometers away, it was breath-taking.
When reading the army gathering in formation and resisting waves of enemies falling from the sky, he even felt chills down his spine.
As he had been exposed to “Black Money” since he was a child, he was more informed than most that the world was not as simple as people imagined. In the invisible darkness, there were many powers that did not tire. Therefore, he was not surprised by the emergence of the demons when he heard it in the Kingdom of Dawn. He guessed that the leaders of those Chambers of Commerce were probably of the same mind.
But nothing more.
The nobles and businessmen of the Kingdom of Dawn still focused on their own interests, and not care about the Battle of Divine Will, which was a mere term in their eyes.
Victor never expected that Graycastle had already had a direct confrontation with the demons and had won. This aroused an indescribable feeling in his heart.
He couldn’t explain what it was, but it made him feel safe and happy.
This should have nothing to do with him.
After thinking about it, he was probably affected by the word “human” the most, which had appeared many times in the newspaper.
For a moment, Victor felt as if he was standing with the First Army of Graycastle. In front of powerful and terrible enemies, the gap between family and blood seemed to have faded away.
He took a deep breath and licked his slightly dry lips before reading the third page.
The content on this page was much more casual. It was about the trivial things that happened in Neverwinter with quite novel titles such as “Shock! What’s Behind the Explosion in the City Last Night? Detective Group Reveals the Secret!”, “Water Pipe Cracked, Roads Become Skating Tracks!”, “Bird Beak Mushrooms Recipe Every Neverwinteror Should Know”, etc…
Victor glanced through the page, and when he turned it over, he was stunned.
A black and white picture occupied half of the page. It was so vivid that it was difficult for him to turn his eyes away.
Two girls, holding hands, stood together peacefully on a snow-covered land. White snow flew in the air, forming a gorgeous scenery. Below the picture was a beautiful line of words.
“An art beyond the times, the gift of His Majesty’s enthronement! ‘The Wolf Princess’, performed by the Star Flower Troupe and the Witches, and written by His Majesty will be staged at the end of this month! Book your tickets now!”