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Chapter 1189: The Radiation Project

Beyond the post-war analysis, the General Staff had drafted a preliminary plan for the third Battle of Divine Will.

The demons’ intentions remained obscure, but one fact held firm: they would not abandon Taquila. The Holy City was the barrier standing between the demons and the Fertile Plains — and the foundation from which Neverwinter’s army could advance. So long as mankind held Taquila, the Red Mist could not reach the northwest of Graycastle without a fight.

Rebuilding the city was not optional. It was necessary.

If the demons pushed through the Fertile Plains, the First Army’s strategy was clear: fortify the railway, guard the supply lines, strangle the Red Mist. The same bones as the Torch Campaign, draped in harder flesh. Brutal, but winnable — and a win there would bring humanity one step closer to the end.

The problem was the northeast.

The Kingdom of Wolfheart was all mountain. The Kingdom of Everwinter had no navigable rivers. Between them and Graycastle lay the Kingdom of Dawn and two ranges that swallowed roads whole. Extending the railway north in any reasonable timeline was impossible — two problems Roland could not engineer around in time: tunneling and bridgework.

Relying on local nobles for logistics was equally out of the question. The immigration policy had already scraped the goodwill between Graycastle and the two kingdoms down to bone. Roland could only hope they held their knives behind their backs and didn’t use them. Which meant the First Army would have to sustain itself.

Ships, then. But every port city sat along the east coastline, far from the defensive line — nowhere to fall back if things collapsed. Win and it was fine; lose and it was ruin.

There was also the matter of warding off demons and evacuating civilians in foreign terrain. The Fertile Plains were bleak and boundless and at least known. Fighting north meant variables the staff couldn’t map. The General Staff noted the possibility of a northern campaign, drafted nothing specific, and left it at that.

Edith entered the meeting room with dark circles carved beneath her eyes. Whatever Usrook’s deception had cost her, it had not softened her. If anything, she looked more determined than before.

Roland set down the report.

He wanted the demons to come through the Fertile Plains. But without confirmation from Lightning and Maggie, that preference was worth nothing — a general reading his own wishes into empty terrain. Better to spend the time thinking about how to win on his side rather than guessing at choices not yet made.

He stood.

“Your Majesty?” Nightingale looked up, dried fish between her teeth.

“The new laboratory,” Roland said. “I want to see how the Radiation Project is coming along.”


North Slope Laboratory, Neverwinter.

“Lady Anna — ”

Anna cut her off at the first syllable. “I’ve asked you not to call me that.”

“I know, but I can’t stop.” Lucia set down the metal piece and stuck out her tongue. “Here’s the material you asked for. If there’s nothing else for me to do, I’ll — ”

“You’re my partner,” Anna said, crossing the room with a smile. “Even if I am the queen. Are you heading to the new laboratory?”

“It’s about time.”

Anna walked her to the door. “Take care. Come find me if you exhaust your power — or anytime you’re free.”

“I will!” Lucia waved and started down the hill.

Her schedule sprawled across the city: the chemistry laboratory, the Furnace Area at the mine, the North Slope. Before the new laboratory was built, she had no fixed post. She had spent most of her time here with Anna, producing high-quality alloys, slicing ingots into precise components according to Anna’s specifications. The work left her with a quiet contentment that was harder to explain than to feel.

She was making this world better. That was enough.

Lucia had come to Neverwinter to cure her sister’s demonic plague, expecting nothing beyond that. She had never planned to stay. At first, the imbalance of it had nagged at her — receiving so much, returning so little. But now she had her own weight in the work, her own place beside Lady Anna and the Chief Alchemist in the city’s expansion. The guilt had not vanished so much as been displaced by something sturdier.

The more time she spent with Anna, the more she wanted to become her. The breadth of knowledge, the talent, the absolute devotion to the work — it seemed impossible that one witch could remake a city, and yet here the city stood. Nightingale was the person Lucia trusted most. Anna was the person she wanted to be.

And now, for the first time, there was a real path toward that.

His Majesty had built a new laboratory on the southern bank of the Redwater River and given it to her. Her project, he said, could change the fate of the entire human race. If it succeeded, she would be the most crucial person in the Battle of Divine Will.

Lucia was already skipping by the time she reached the Redwater bridge.

She crossed over and walked south along the paved road several hundred meters until the wall appeared. Unlike the clamorous plants crowded between the industrial zone and the farmland, this place was quiet. Trees along the path threw shade across the ground. It was already autumn, but the canopy above her had not yet surrendered its green. Bird calls surfaced through the leaves and sank back into the silence — not breaking it, but confirming it.

More residential garden than research institute. That was the first impression.

The fully armed sentries at the gate corrected the impression immediately.

When Lucia entered the front yard, the soldiers saluted and opened the door. That was the first checkpoint. The further she went — through successive courtyards divided by interior walls, past guards who checked papers at each passage — the heavier the security became. Nearly everyone had an escort. There were few exceptions.

Lucia was one of them.

She returned the soldiers’ salutes with a smile, passed through checkpoint after checkpoint, and stopped before a white brick building whose exterior walls were dense with creeper vines. Beside the door hung a gold plate:

Research Institute of High Energy Physics of Neverwinter

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