CH1445 · Rewrite
☕ Support

Chapter 1445: The Island That Will Never Fall

Back in Graycastle from North Slope Mountain, Roland summoned City Hall Director Barov and Minister of Construction Karl to his office.

“I need the Administrative Office to begin a new metallurgy material supply plan as quickly as possible,” he said. “Move production from the center of North Slope Mountain to other locations — Longsong Stronghold, Redwater City, wherever — the only requirement is that output cannot drop. North Slope Mountain will not be mineable for much longer.”

The two men exchanged a glance. Karl dropped his gaze; Barov spoke with visible effort. “Your Majesty — has the situation in the north deteriorated that severely?”

“North?” Roland paused, then understood. They thought a new enemy had appeared at the Fertile Plains, something beyond the First Army’s ability to hold — and he was giving up the mountain to protect the city. He shook his head, caught between amusement and exasperation. “The army hasn’t fallen so far that we’d have to lie about victories to keep people calm. You’re in charge of logistics, Barov — the drop in outgoing medical supplies alone should tell you the general situation. How could you ask that?”

Barov wiped his forehead. “Ha — I thought Your Majesty was planning for the worst. I confess I had been wondering which witch had discovered something about the Sky-sea Realm that hadn’t reached the Administrative Office yet.”

“In that case,” Karl said, unable to help himself, “why are you giving up the North Slope Mountain mines?”

“Because that mountain is about to fly soon.” Roland shrugged.

Silence.

The two men wore the expression of people questioning whether they had heard correctly.

“You heard it right,” Roland said. “It will fly and become a floating island.” He gave them both time to arrive at acceptance, then walked them through everything: Eleanor, the ancient witch; the acquisition of the magic power core; the metal container the Administrative Office had transported without knowing what it held. “The transplant carried real risk. Until it succeeded, I couldn’t share the details. But the project is complete. Neverwinter will have a floating island.”

Karl’s voice trembled. “Your Majesty — what you want is not just a giant rock?”

“That’s right.” Roland dropped the restraint entirely. “It will be a floating battleship — a stronghold that cannot be taken. It must sustain months or longer of supply for large numbers of troops on an assault. It needs to threaten and strike enemies at range, and it must be capable of defending itself. How long do you need to convert North Slope Mountain into that?”

He understood Karl’s excitement fully. Any architect with real ambition dreamed of placing their work in the most impossible of settings. A floating city was a once-in-a-lifetime commission.

“By the standard benchmarks for a project of this scale — four to five years,” Karl answered immediately. “But I know Your Majesty cannot wait that long. And a floating city cannot be treated as an ordinary project.” His voice steadied into the register it always took when he was already solving the problem. “Given its unique nature, the Ministry of Construction can embed an engineering team that moves with the structure while it’s in flight. If I understand your intention correctly, you want the Aerial Knights permanently stationed on it as well. A dedicated resupply point would give them attacking and defensive capability that far surpasses fixed cannons.”

Building over ten runways had given the Minister of Construction a thorough understanding of air power. Roland smiled. “Continue.”

“The Aerial Knights’ requirements: a runway, storehouses, reserves of fuel oil and ammunition. We have feasible blueprints already. At most one week to complete them.” Karl placed his hand to his chest. “One week for the minimum viable version — satisfying your most fundamental requirements. Everything else can be built in phases: added, perfected, extended as needed.”

“And materials?” Barov asked. “Once North Slope Mountain leaves the ground, getting anything up there becomes difficult.”

“I’ve already been thinking on that.” Professional queries arrived at Karl’s door pre-answered. “North Slope Mountain’s mountainside has a sizable natural lake fed by springs from the summit. The engineering team can enclose it into a proper reservoir — water for daily use and construction. Secondly, we can excavate the mountain itself for limestone. Lady Eleanor likely would not object to the island being somewhat lighter.” A small smile. “Bricks, lumber — those can all be sourced on the spot. Steel is the exception; that must be prepared in advance. If Miss Hummingbird is willing to assist with loading, I believe we can bring up a substantial amount. Beyond that, the Taquila witches of the Third Border City can help — the existing cave network, with minor modifications, makes excellent natural warehousing. With all of that, even without resupply, the project team could continue working for a year or two.” He turned to Barov. “If the furnace area and steel-making plants can be preserved intact, that window extends considerably.”

Roland clapped once — a genuine response, not ceremony. The approach was exactly right for the time constraint: establish basic combat capability first, leave residential and functional buildings to later phases.

“Barov — your thoughts?”

“We will need a large population living on it, apart from the First Army.” The old director stroked his beard slowly. “I’ll need to develop a recruitment plan.”

Roland smiled. They had both understood the core of it without being told.

A floating island meant a sustained long-range campaign far from the mainland. Early-stage living conditions would be nothing like Neverwinter’s. Promotion incentives, compensation, logistics — the Administrative Office would have to prepare everything in advance. Only workers who wanted to be there, who were driven by purpose rather than coercion, would complete the work efficiently.

In earlier days Roland would have planned all of this himself. Barov’s instinct for his governing principles had made that unnecessary.

“Proceed as discussed,” Roland said.


“Welcome back, my lord.”

When Victor stepped into the office at Miracle Building, Tinkle came forward to greet him just as she had at the hotel — the familiar motion of it warmer than he usually admitted.

The Rainbow Stone trade was expanding. Competitors had begun to appear, and to protect his supply he had been moving between Everwinter and the Port of Clearwater without rest. Draining, but he did not mind. Compared to the uncertainty of the jewelry business, he was closer to his original goal than he had ever been: a businessman steady enough to support his family.

He extended his hand. Tinkle placed a copy of Graycastle Weekly in it.

The wordless understanding made him smile. Port of Clearwater got the weekly paper too, but always two or three weeks late — and in a city like Neverwinter, two or three weeks was time enough for the world to change entirely.

The large header on the front page found him immediately.

Heading for the Skies — Official Announcement of the Heaven Plan.

Discussion

Suggest a change