Chapter 725: Bet and Promise
The exercise had exceeded his expectations, which he noted without particular surprise. He had budgeted seventy percent of the black powder reserves for the final sequence, and the combination of that quantity with the aluminum powder he’d had mixed in during burial had produced a fireball bright enough to cast backward shadows across the wall. A momentary approximation of sunrise, visible under a grey Months of Demons sky.
The crowd’s response had been unambiguous. He’d watched Phyllis’s face during the detonation and found everything he’d hoped to find there.
The First Army’s explosive capability had crossed, with that demonstration, from black powder to chemical gunpowder as the working standard. Nuclear weapons remained in the category of things he could describe but not approach — uranium was common enough in the earth’s crust, more abundant than silver or gold, and Lucia could theoretically collect it. But he had no radiation shielding, no way to prevent fallout damage, and no confidence that Nana’s healing extended to genetic deformation from particle ionization. He had filed the concept under not yet with the specific weight of something he genuinely hoped would stay there.
He poured Tilly a cup of Chaos Drink and got to the point.
“About the hunting competition—”
“It ends in a draw.” She had already settled herself and was watching him with the expression she wore when she’d anticipated the argument. “I won’t accept Leaf’s total counted toward either side, and Agatha’s team came from Taquila, not Neverwinter. Your team scored seven. Mine scored fifteen. Neither won.”
“Agreed. A draw.” He paused. “I still want you to stay.”
She opened her mouth and then didn’t say anything for a moment.
“A double win, then,” he said, before she could reconstruct her position. “One-third of the Chaos Drink profits goes into a general fund — witches and common people both, anyone who contributes to Neverwinter’s development. And you take up residence here, with whatever Sleeping Island witches choose to come. The Witch Building has space, or somewhere else if you’d prefer.”
“We’d agreed on half the profits.”
“Because one-third will still be more gold royals than any single person could reasonably spend. The rest goes to infrastructure — witch accommodations, facility maintenance, salary distribution, whatever the city needs. If you find yourself short, you take what you need from the general pool.”
“Even if I spend it all?”
“It would go to waste in a warehouse anyway.” He said this in the practical register that indicated he meant it literally. When the metallic currency eventually failed to meet the economy’s needs, the gold royals in storage would become a number in a ledger rather than a physical constraint. “There’s no point in accumulating it.”
Tilly looked at her cup. A small smile appeared at the corner of her mouth.
“A double win,” she said, with the slightly reluctant tone of someone conceding a point they’re actually glad to concede. “Fine.”
He watched her. A year ago she’d arrived in Neverwinter with the particular quality of someone extending provisional trust and watching to see if it was warranted. The skepticism had been appropriate — she’d known him only as the brother she’d grown up with, not the person he’d become, and those weren’t the same thing. Now she was sitting across from him in his office drinking Chaos Drink and negotiating the terms of a permanent arrangement with the ease of someone who has decided a negotiation will end well.
He felt, looking at her, something that didn’t require naming.
“One more thing,” he said. “The Southernmost Region. I plan to consolidate it this winter.”
He explained the Sand Nation’s customs — the holy duel, the tradition of legitimate authority, the way power transferred among the Mojin clans.
“Ashes joining the duel isn’t a problem,” Tilly said. “But why the desert? No one in Graycastle’s history has wanted it.”
“Because it looks empty and isn’t.” He thought of the underground fire that had burned for decades, the white salt plains that were symptoms of something below the surface rather than just surface features. “If I’m right about what’s underneath, the Southernmost Region becomes necessary to Neverwinter within the next several years. I’d rather have it now.”
She accepted this without asking for more. Trust as a practice rather than a decision.
“I’ll tell Ashes,” she said.
After she left, he called Echo.
The holy duel would give him authority over Iron Sand City, but a formal victory in a single combat wasn’t the same as the loyalty of a hundred thousand Mojin people. For that, he needed to become something they recognized as the Great Chief — which required someone who understood what that meant and could speak to it.
Echo was the princess of the Osha clan. She was also here, and she hadn’t been warned about any of this, because Iron Axe had correctly identified the Sand Nation campaign as military intelligence and kept it from his own family member without being asked.
Roland filed this away under Iron Axe’s judgment is reliable.
“I was wondering if Iron Axe had told you anything about the Southernmost Region,” he said.
“He hasn’t, Your Majesty.” Her voice had the specific quality of someone who has just registered that a significant conversation has begun and is recalibrating. Then it shifted: “Are you sending me away?”
He heard what she’d actually said and what she’d meant, which were adjacent but not the same thing. Behind him, he felt the particular drop in temperature that indicated Nightingale had developed an opinion.
“Temporarily,” he said quickly. “Once I’ve established the Great Chief’s claim, you come back to Neverwinter. I won’t require it if you don’t want to.”
Echo’s expression settled. “I understand. But the holy duel alone won’t move the clans.”
“I know.” He leaned forward slightly. “There’s another part of the plan.”
He described it.
The silence that followed was longer than he’d expected.
“Can it really be done?” she asked.
“I’m the King of Graycastle. My word is the guarantee.”
Echo went still for a moment. Then she knelt — not the performance of formality but the specific action of someone who has had something promised to them that they had given up expecting.
“By the Three Gods,” she said, “the Sand Nation will not forget this.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” He moved to help her up. “I’m counting on you to make it work.”
Chapter 725: Bet And Promise
The effect of the live-fire artillery exercise exceeded Roland’s expectations.
He had indeed got what had paid for. In the last round of explosion, he had ignited 70% of the total black powder reserves and had got an explosion as intense as that of the roadside bombs in the modern world where he had lived before. While the soldiers had been burying the powder, he had had a sudden thought and had mixed some aluminum powder with the gunpowder. As a result, the fireball of the explosion had become even more bright. The moment it had shot out of the ground, it had looked a bit like the rising sun.
With the success of this explosion, the First Army’s explosives had been officially upgraded from black powder to chemical gunpowder. As for the nuclear explosives, he could only fantasize about it at this moment. There was quite a lot of uranium in the earth’s crust, which was even more than silver and gold. He could have simply asked Lucia to collect uranium, but he was unable to prevent radiation damage from nuclear fallout or manufacture qualified lead plates.
The most important thing was that he didn’t know whether Nana could heal radioactive diseases, namely, the biological deformation in genes caused by particle ionization.
So unless he was left with no choice, Roland did not plan to start the “Bright Radiation”, a task as epic as the mythical stealing of fire.
After all, it was too dangerous.
After settling the issue of the Taquila witches’ meeting, he invited Tilly into his office.
It was time to discuss the bet with her.
Roland poured her a cup of Chaos Drink, cleared his throat, and said, “About the hunting competition….”
“Even though Agatha is a member of the Witch Union, her team didn’t represent the Neverwinter city.” Tilly seemed to have already guessed Roland’s thoughts and narrowed her eyes. “Brother, our bet can only be considered as a draw. I won’t accept it if you intend to count Leaf as part of the Neverwinter team.”
“Of course, our bet did end in a draw. But I still want you to stay,” Roland said honestly.
His straightforward attitude made Tilly stutter, “Ugh….”
“So, how about we count it as a double win?” This was the first time that he saw Princess Tilly’s speechless expression, which was actually rather adorable in his eyes. “I’ll use one-third of the profits of Chaos Drink as a fund to reward anyone, a witch or a common person, who contributes to the Neverwinter city. And you can take up residence in the Neverwinter city, either in the Witch Building or somewhere else together with the Sleeping Island witches.”
As they started discussing business, Tilly soon regained her focus and coughed as if nothing had happened, “Only one third? We had initially agreed on half of the profits.”
“Because I estimated that even one-third of the profit would still be a shocking amount. It’ll be enough for one lifetime.” Roland explained, “The rest of the money will be used for the Neverwinter city’s infrastructure, including the witches accommodation and necessary facilities, as well as salary distribution. In general, it’ll be used for all the needed areas. If you need more, you can directly take it.”
“Even if I spend all the earned gold royals?”
“Of course, they would be wasted anyway in the warehouse if left unused,” he replied naturally. In the future, when the metallic currency was no longer able to meet the productivity needs, it would be the time to start using credit
currency. When that happened, the gold royals would become just a number for the government, which would print out the money directly. Given that, storing metallic money was not important for him.
Tilly smirked, “Sounds like a good deal.”
“That’s why it’s called a double win,” Roland said, “don’t you think?”
She sighed and said, “Since you already spoke your mind so clear, I can only agree with you.” Even though she acted like she was reluctantly agreeing, her smiling eyes could not hide her real feelings.
Roland could not help but smile too. He had only seen a look of suspicion on her face one year ago, but now she put on a relaxed smile. It seemed like she finally believed that he could bring a stable and comfortable life for the witches.
“Oh right.” After some casual chatting, he wanted to change the topic and focused on the retrieval of the Southernmost Region. “I plan to integrate the Sand Nation’s domain into the Kingdom of Graycastle this coming winter. Their traditions and power inheritance methods are very different from the ones in the Four Kingdoms. Thus, I need your help to completely conquer it.”
Next, Roland described to her the laws and holy duel ceremony of the Sand Nation.
“I don’t have a problem with Ashes joining the duel.” Tilly said after thinking for a while. “But why do you want to integrate the desert? Since the Kingdom of Graycastle was established, no ancestor had ever shown any interest in that land.”
“It only looks deserted, but the underground fire that has never been extinguished for the past dozens of years and the plain covered by white salt are all proofs of the hidden treasures of that land.” Roland waved his hand. “If I’m not mistaken, Southernmost Region will be an indispensable part in the future development of Neverwinter.”
“In that case, I’ll explain to Ashes.” Tilly did not ask for more details but nodded in accordance.
Nowadays, the trust between them was slowly increasing. It was obvious that in the future, the Witch Union and the Sleeping Island witches would have a close relationship.
Roland was very pleased as he thought about that.
…
After sending his sister away, he immediately called Echo.
The holy duel could only earn the right of speech for him, but it was not a long-term solution. He did not just need a clan’s right to live in the Iron Sand City, but numerous Mojin people that would follow him. For this, he had to become the legendary great chief.
Roland did not have the time to lead the army personally, so he had to find a representative.
As the princess of the Osha clan, Echo was a key figure in persuading the Mojin people.
“I wonder if Iron Axe has discussed with you about returning to the Southernmost Region?” he said directly, “this winter the First Army will enter and station in the Iron Sand City, and I wish you’ll go there on my behalf.”
“No….he didn’t mention anything,” Echo looked surprised, then bit her lips and said with a sad expression, “Your Majesty, don’t you want me anymore?”
Hearing her first sentence, Roland was happy to know that Iron Axe understood that any military action was the kingdom’s secret and had not mentioned anything about it even to his own clan member. However, her last words almost made him choke. Even though he knew what she actually meant, still, those words could be easily misunderstood. At the same time, he
felt a cold breath behind him, and Nightingale’s hand firmly pinched his arm, “Of course not, this is temporary—once I become the great chief of the Sand Nation, you can return with Iron Axe to the Neverwinter city. I won’t force you if you don’t want to.”
Hearing that, Echo relaxed, “I understand, but the holy duel won’t be enough to subdue all the Mojin people.”
“Of course, I’ve another plan,” Roland laughed and then slowly described it to her.
“This….” Echo was shocked and expressed her disbelief. “Can this… really be done?”
“Definitely, I’m the king of Graycastle, I give you my word,” he said emphatically.
“By the name of Three Gods, the Sand Nation will never forget your kindness.” She was not hesitating anymore, but instead she knelt and bowed respectfully, “Echo is willing to complete this task for you.”
“Very good,” Roland stood up to help the Mojin girl who had suffered a lot to rise. “I’m counting on you.”
In this way, the preparations for the retrieval of the Southernmost Region were completed.