Chapter 696: The Enemy

A cold wind swept through the Obsidian Palace as Grant Duke Perdinan Wendell, tall and imposing, strode swiftly down the long corridor. The attendants respectfully stepped aside, bowing as they watched the empire’s chief minister make his way toward the emperor’s study. Quiet whispers spread among them, speculating on the urgent summons that had called the “Wolf Duke” to the palace.

Perdinan made no stops along the way. Once the door was opened, he entered the room to find the emperor already seated behind his desk, waiting.

“Your Majesty,” Perdinan greeted with a bow, “I have arrived.”

“This is an urgent report from Andersa,” Emperor Rosetta Augustus said, his face as calm and unyielding as carved stone. His deep eyes betrayed no emotion as he slid a copied dispatch across the desk. “We have taken a misstep.”

Thanks to the relay of the domestic communication towers, news from Winterwolf Fortress had reached the Obsidian Palace immediately.

Perdinan’s instincts told him what the report contained. He stepped forward, picked up the document, and read it from start to finish. As his eyes moved down the page, his expression darkened little by little.

After a few minutes, the Wolf Duke looked up, brows furrowed. “Your Majesty…”

“The Cecileans are cunning,” Rosetta said evenly. “They’ve placed a formidable and tenacious commander in charge of Longwind Fortress. Their stratagems fooled everyone — myself included. Now, we’ve lost our chance. According to Andersa’s report, a powerful, magically-engineered mobile fortress has arrived in the Paramel region, supporting Longwind Fortress. A large force accompanied it to the border.” He paused, then added, “In this first encounter, the Cecileans have shown strength beyond our expectations.”

“I must bear some responsibility,” Perdinan said gravely. “I misjudged the situation…”

“You only did your duty. And you’re not the only one who miscalculated,” Rosetta interrupted. “Now is not the time to assign blame. We must focus on what comes next.”

“…The Cecileans also missed an opportunity to deal us a heavy blow,” Perdinan pondered aloud. “On the other hand, they likely don’t want war right now. After a civil war and a natural disaster, with their new royal family and state system just established, what they need most is peace and recovery.”

Rosetta nodded slightly, acknowledging the assessment, but his brow furrowed again as he spoke seriously. “Allowing them to recover unchecked is also a grave danger.”

“Yes,” Perdinan agreed somberly. “The Cecileans have already demonstrated tremendous capacity for growth — in their military, economy, and society. The new order crafted by Gawain Cecile shows terrifying potential. If they’re given time to recuperate, the Cecile Empire could soon become an uncontrollable giant…”

The old duke’s voice carried a note of lament. He had spent most of his life studying Ansu, watching it crumble under internal strife and external conspiracies. Yet no one had expected that from its ruins would rise Cecile — a newborn empire even more formidable and dangerous than the decayed kingdom before it. The flames once meant to burn the kingdom to ashes had instead become a fiery rebirth for a giant. And at this critical moment, Typhon had lost the only chance to crush this nascent state.

But neither Rosetta nor Perdinan dwelled on regrets or complaints.

When an era shifts, lamenting what’s already happened is a waste of time. Cecile is growing, yes — but Typhon is not standing still.

Having missed the opportunity for war, it’s better to move faster oneself than to hope the enemy will pause. They must prepare for the next confrontation.

“If I’m right, Gawain Cecile will soon send a signal through his ‘commercial diplomacy.’ He’s very likely to choose peace, and I can only accept — and welcome — that,” Rosetta broke the silence after a few moments. “We must prepare for a new kind of standoff.”

One side needs peace to recover; the other is undergoing critical transformation. The two empires have circled the edge of a cliff, whether by fate or design, and both have entered a phase where “peace” is necessary. For the foreseeable future, Cecile and Typhon are unlikely to go to war again. Instead, a different kind of “confrontation” — one distinct from open conflict — may become their new normal.

Rosetta had already envisioned the shape of this standoff and planned accordingly.

After a brief pause, he turned to Perdinan. “Duke Severn’s economic policies can now be fully implemented. We need to get capital flowing, encourage minor nobles and merchants to drive factory production. Our magical industry is already a step behind Cecile’s; we cannot afford to fall further behind.

“The Imperial Guild of Artisans must expand. We must do everything possible to recruit and support technical talent. I intend to create a new rank of ‘Grant Lords’ and several new orders of merit. Outstanding scholars and craftsmen — even those from humble origins — will have opportunities for titles and honors.

“The parliament has been bickering for months over whether commoners should have access to the same textbooks as noble children. That dispute must end immediately…

“As for trade with the southern continent… after so much discussion, it’s time to push forward. Using the trade model we’ve established with Cecile, and working with the Highland Kingdom and the elves, we must get business moving. I’ll assign Count Holmark to handle this; he knows the southern continent well.”

Perdinan raised an eyebrow. “Trade with the southern continent… wasn’t that put on hold?”

“The elves are unhappy with our logging in the southern continent, which has strained relations with the Highland Kingdom. But now… we must open those southern trade routes,” Rosetta said firmly. “The development of magical industry is easing the pressures caused by recent reforms, but factory output must be sold to generate revenue. Otherwise, the nobles and merchants who invest in factories will grow restless again. Besides trade with Cecile, we must find more markets.”

“I understand,” Perdinan nodded. “How much concession do you want Count Holmark to make?”

“Typhon can halt all logging in the disputed southern forests and stop expansion in the Blue Rock Hills…” Rosetta had clearly thought this through well before today. “We might even recognize the ‘Blue Rock Count’ appointed by the Highland Kingdom — but only if they open the three main roads from Blue Rock to the Ancestral Forest and allow free trade in those cities.”

Perdinan was momentarily taken aback by the concessions Rosetta proposed, but after a few seconds of contemplation, the old duke bowed his head. “Understood.”

“Besides that, have Andersa return to Aldern soon. She’s the only one who’s had direct, close contact with the Cecilean magical legions. There are many things I want to discuss with her in person. You’ll handle border defenses.

“Order the Winterwolf Legion to build additional fortifications along the Winterwolf Fortress line. Your proposals for ‘border rotations’ and ‘new recruit settlements’ are excellent — I intend to implement them. Newly formed imperial regiments and trained recruits will rotate every three years to assist the Winterwolf Legion in guarding the northwest frontier. I don’t expect them to break into Longwind Fortress, but they must apply enough pressure on the Cecileans.”

Perdinan immediately grasped the purpose behind the emperor’s arrangements—

They cannot let the Cecileans quietly focus on development. They must not free their hands at Longwind Fortress.

Compared to Cecile after the Great Disaster, Typhon had far more reserves of troops and materials. Cecile had built eighteen fake fortifications along the border; Typhon could build twenty-eight real ones in a single stretch.

Whether it was the garrison at Longwind Fortress or that mysterious war machine, they must be firmly held at the border. Even Cecile’s large reserve forces must be tied down along that long frontier.

After issuing these orders, Rosetta Augustus let out a long breath.

Perdinan looked up and saw the expression on the emperor’s face—despite losing such a regrettable opportunity and facing such a formidable enemy, Rosetta’s eyes shone brightly with fierce determination and even a hint of pleasure.

This surprised Perdinan. It had been many years since he’d seen such a look on Rosetta’s face. The last time was shortly after the emperor’s coronation, when he decided to reorganize the noble council.

“Cecile is truly a formidable foe, isn’t it, Duke Perdinan?” Rosetta said with a smile. “Like Prince Malik, Duke Fabro, and Duke Colmanroni of old… perhaps even stronger?”

“They are indeed stronger,” Perdinan finally smiled after a brief moment of surprise. “After all, the ‘Three Rebels’ back then only wanted your life.”

Rosetta was momentarily taken aback, then burst into hearty laughter. “Ha ha ha ha…”

…

A sharp whistle echoed across the docks of Saint Suniel. The magical warship Pioneer was slowly pulling away from the riverbank, its arcane engines humming powerfully, the low roar of its water displacement growing louder. On either side of the stern, mechanical wings of magical energy unfolded bit by bit, their gears and levers moving with precision. The ship looked majestic and imposing, yet carried an uncanny beauty.

Citizens and soldiers gathered along the riverbank cheered, curious children shouted from rooftops and embankments. On the dock square, Dukes Victoria and Bertram stood quietly in their finery, accompanied by attendants, watching the warship’s departure. Their gazes remained fixed on the ship’s retreating silhouette for a long time.

The Pioneer gradually picked up speed, its escort vessels falling into formation. The towering walls of Saint Suniel shrank in the distance, eventually hidden behind rolling hills and forests. Only then did Gawain turn away from the window.

“Finally going home,” Amber stretched exaggeratedly beside him. “I almost forgot what the southern lands look like!”

“You’ve only been gone half a year. Don’t act like it’s been a lifetime,” Gawain glanced sideways at the half-elf. “And speaking of contact with the south, you as head of military intelligence probably have more frequent updates than anyone else.”

Amber pouted, then turned to the black-haired maid beside her. “Be careful, Miss Maggie. Our emperor is the kind of man who can squeeze water from a stone. One wrong move and you’ll be buried in endless errands — and no pay raise…”

Maggie stood aboard the sleek, cutting-edge mechanical warship, her gaze fixed dreamily through the crystal-clear glass of the porthole as the riverbank steadily slipped away behind them. This incredible magical construct fascinated and intrigued her deeply, stirring a flicker of hope about the “advanced magical technology” Rebecca had described. She was so lost in thought that she didn’t catch what Amber was saying, responding a beat late. “Huh? Sorry, I didn’t quite hear that…”

“You don’t need to mind her,” Gawain waved a hand dismissively. “She’s just too excited—people tend to babble nonsense at times like this.” Then, his expression grew serious as he studied the black dragon maid before him. “Honestly, I never expected Rebecca to actually ‘borrow’ you from Victoria. When she first told me about it, I thought she’d gotten herself into some kind of trouble again.”

Maggie couldn’t help but recall Rebecca’s impulsive challenge: “Change into one for me, just to see.” A small smile tugged at her lips. “Princess Rebecca’s sincerity and the incredible knowledge she possesses moved me. As for the mistress… in most cases, she respects my opinions.”

“Sounds like there are plenty of secrets between you and Victoria,” Gawain chuckled. “But don’t worry—I’m not going to pry. For now, I hope you’ll enjoy life in the southern lands.”

Maggie returned a genuine smile. “Yes, I’m very much looking forward to it.”

(End of chapter)