The day after Mid-Autumn Festival, Roland received a secret letter from the royal capital.
The letters sent by the flying messenger were most likely written by the personal guard Tassar to himself.
Roland unrolled the paper strips entwined around the bird's claws, then approached the window to examine them closely under the bright sunlight.
"Your Highness, your plan has been a resounding success." "With the palace swiftly sealed off and all access prohibited, I couldn't assess the blast's impact. Yet by dusk, the assault had become common knowledge—whether in taverns, inns, or public squares, every gathering buzzed with the same news. Never before had a monarch's death caused such a stir. Combined with your earlier warnings, many now believe Tefiko perished in the attack and that you'll soon ascend to rule the capital as Graycastle's new ruler." This reassured Roland—no better news could have come than the successful bombing mission and Witch's safe return.
After brewing himself a cup of tea, he returned to the rosewood table and continued reading.
"However, based on the intelligence gathered so far, there has been no movement in the major Noble territories outside the capital, and the royal palace has responded swiftly. Therefore, I speculate that Tefiko Wemberton is likely still alive." "Moreover, some people have confidently claimed this attack originated from the heavens. Residents have witnessed pale-white objects descending from the sky and plunging into the palace at breakneck speed. So regarding the task you assigned me, I've drafted a preliminary plan—if we can frame this as divine retribution for the false king's atrocities, I believe many would take it at face value." "My recruits are highly motivated. They've been gathering information about Tefiko's tyranny, and now that it's all mixed together, it should be more effective. I'm confident these details will reach every citizen through the Black Street Rats within a month." "Additionally, I'll continue closely monitoring the Eastern Suburbs barracks. But given the current situation, Tefiko should be too preoccupied to consider other matters until he devises a countermeasure against this attack." The letter ended without a signature. After reading it, Roland folded the secret message and tucked it into the drawer, letting out a long sigh of relief.
If Dongfeng-1 can really prevent Tifike from sending troops, that would be great.
After all, it's a total waste to drain massive populations through drug-fueled warfare. The longer the enemy delays initiating such campaigns, the more opportunities we'll have to win over more people.
Roland lifted his cup and took a sip of the fragrant black tea. Now all he needed to do was wait with calm for the witches to return.
It had been several days since he last saw Anna, and the dried fish in the drawer hadn't been taken by anyone—so much so that he began to feel uneasy.
Just then, Carter pushed open the office door.
"Your Highness, two fleets have arrived at the dock." "Is it the Margary Merchant Guild? Considering the time spent traveling, she's missed a prime opportunity... Wait," Roland paused slightly. "Another fleet?" "Yes," Carter chuckled. "Your delegation dispatched to recruit manpower in the South has returned with a contingent. The refugees they brought have nearly packed the dock. The town hall is executing the...' quarantine operation 'as per your plan, working alongside Miss Lily." "Quarantine operation." "Exactly, to eliminate potential plagues and such..." Chief Knight cleared his throat. "This group numbers around four to five hundred." "Is that so?" Roland couldn't help but smirk. His earlier musings had finally borne fruit. It seemed the temporary shelters overseen by Lian needed another batch. "Let's go check it out."
Kamor Shuir set aside the thin scrap of paper and kept repeating the same phrase, 'So that's how it is. '' Mentor?' Chamis asked, sounding somewhat concerned.
After obtaining this copy of "Intermediate Chemistry," Kaimo spent two consecutive nights reading through the entire ancient text without sleep. He had glanced at it briefly, but the content proved too abstruse to comprehend.
"I'm doing well," the Chief Alchemist's voice carried no trace of weariness, radiating instead a divine vitality. Though his eyes were slightly caked with eye grease, they sparkled with a divine light, utterly unrecognizable as the man who had stayed awake all night.
When the mentor was immersed in alchemical research, disciples were not to interrupt him lightly—a rule he strictly enforced. Only then did Chamis dare to ask, "This book... I can't make sense of it. What are atoms and electrons?" "You're already a qualified alchemist, so stop calling yourself a disciple. As Your Highness puts it, we're now colleagues," Kaimon paused. "As for your question, I'm at a loss... In fact, when Your Highness Roland entrusted me with *Intermediate Chemistry*, he included this book with it." Chamis glanced at another book on the table, its cover bearing the title *Theoretical Foundations of Natural Science*.
"Shuir... sir," he said, somewhat unaccustomed to the title, "it seems utterly unrelated to alchemy... no, chemistry." "I thought so too," Kemo mused, stroking his beard, "but after flipping through a few pages, I realized I knew nothing about this world." "What?" Chamis froze. "Nothing? Alchemists study the composition of matter and the essence of elements. If even they are ignorant, how are we different from monkeys?"
"I mean the concept," the Chief Alchemist's voice brimmed with excitement... and satisfaction. "We thought alchemy was just about refining metals, the study of matter. The rising and setting of the sun, the blooming and withering of flowers—none of that had anything to do with us." "Isn't that true... Observing the sun and stars is what astrologers specialize in. As for plants," Chamis said with a hint of disdain, "only farmers and herbalists would bother to study them." "So we know nothing," Kaimo shook his head. "This book has always tried to connect everything—stones, flowers, thunder, fire—all composed of a unified entity operating under a single set of rules. Not only does chemistry react perfectly according to these laws, but even the sun's movements and flowers' cycles follow them. The rules are so precise that identical starting conditions yield identical results. Chemistry is just a small part of it." "...How is that possible?" "I find it equally hard to imagine," he said, spreading out the periodic table. "In medieval chemistry, it defined elements as large spheres surrounded by smaller ones. The outer sphere determined the element's identity, while the number of layers and spheres in the outer rings dictated its properties. This list follows the same pattern, neatly arranged like soldiers in formation. I now fully understand Your Highness's point: why we can deduce an element's nature and reactions even without ever seeing or touching it." The reaction's essence hinges on the gain or loss of small particles, never altering the larger ones. This explains why elements remain stable during the process. "Chames," he paused, "do you... believe this?" These theories are too abstract to verify visually. How then could the book's authors know such things?
"I don't know, so I can't answer your earlier question," Kaimo said with a smile. "But whether you believe it or not, the crucial point is the perspective it offers—one I've never imagined... It revealed another door, carved not just with chemistry." His tone paused slightly. "Unfortunately, Your Highness failed to record it all. He might never understand what he missed." Chamis found these words equally perplexing, just as he had when he first became an apprentice, finding the alchemist's terminology as foreign as a foreign language. Now, he felt the same way again.
Yet he was undaunted. By staying close to his mentor, he was certain to grasp the so-called 'intrinsic connections of all things.' Compared to the Chief Alchemist, he had no shortage of time.
After a moment of silence, Chamis spoke up, "But why do the books issued by Your Highness bear names in different colors?" The chief alchemist exclaimed, "Hmm... I overlooked that. Could it be a casual choice?" He quickly shook his head. "No, if it were just black and red, it would be fine. But these colors are so strikingly mismatched—it's unlikely to be accidental. So, Your Highness deliberately arranged them this way?" The title of *Elementary Chemistry* was blue, *Theoretical Foundations of Natural Science* was blue, *Elementary Mathematics* was green, while *Intermediate Chemistry (Fragment)* was written in purple. Individually, they were unremarkable, but together, they stood out remarkably.
"Probably for the sake of looks?" Chames guessed.