No extra words were needed, the magnificent castle itself was the most straightforward answer.
When the Grand Sage voluntarily asked to tour the castle, Chen Yu knew the cooperation talks were already settled.
If nothing went wrong, six Grand Mages would soon join the Slime Kingdom, which would undoubtedly inject a surge of magical vitality into a kingdom whose soldiers favored brute force.
Little Ka pierced the castle’s outer transparent crystal magic barrier and landed smoothly on the castle’s broad plaza.
When everyone touched down, the climate here left the sages amazed.
Outside was the rift snowplain’s eternal cold and gloom, the biting wind howling, while inside it felt as if an invisible force isolated this place, maintaining a pleasant, springlike climate year-round.
Soft sunlight poured down, illuminating the carefully trimmed lawns, winding stone paths, and a dazzling variety of magical plants and ordinary flowers.
Some shrubs and flowers that only branch and bloom in summer even still held dewdrops that glittered in the sun.
“Master, welcome back.” Silver Sparrow had long been waiting, bowing gracefully.
Even Olivia, the silver dragon who usually lingered in the garden tending the plants, was drawn by the commotion and watched the elven sages on Little Ka’s back with keen interest.
What surprised Olivia a little was that Silver Sparrow had apparently only recently suggested they recruit Grand Mages versed in magic formation theory to help study the castle’s complex formation systems, yet the Little Majesty had acted so fast—returning in one trip with so many Grand Mages.
Her gaze fell on Selene, the leader.
If she guessed correctly, he had somehow convinced the Forest Sage Council to send their Grand Sages here?
The Little Majesty was quite resourceful.
Selene also noticed the silver dragon horns atop Olivia’s head and silently marveled again—this kingdom was even more mysterious than she had imagined, with a silver dragon guardian here.
She bowed politely, having mistakenly assumed Olivia was the kingdom’s guardian, and then her attention was completely captured by Silver Sparrow and the surrounding magical patterns.
Guided by Silver Sparrow, the sages entered the castle’s depths for a deeper tour, and Selene gained a clearer understanding of the levitating castle.
After a moment of thought, she organized her words and expressed her preliminary assessment.
“Apart from the core power source and some formations we can’t comprehend at all, most of the magical knowledge and principles used in this castle aren’t particularly complex, they’re actually quite foundational.”
“However, the original creator can truly be called a miraculous craftsman. Their nesting and combinational application of formations is practically art.”
“From my initial observations and the schematics Miss Silver Sparrow provided, the entire castle has three main formations responsible for levitation, firepower, and energy supply, thirty-six secondary formations, and one hundred and eight fine-tuning formations.”
Her tone carried genuine admiration: “And they run without any obstruction or stagnation, as if formed naturally—no redundancy and nothing missing.”
As she spoke, a hint of puzzlement shimmered in her emerald eyes: “But why thirty-six and one hundred eight? I sense a kind of aesthetic order in those numbers. Do they have a special significance?”
Xiong Yuan tilted his gel head under her shoulder and played dumb: “Maybe it’s just taste, like dwarves hate eight-carved lines under weapons, and elves prefer a single-leaf motif.”
I can always say Xu Xuan Heaven’s cultivators aren’t like that—abhorring filler, insisting on Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches, and the perfect celestial cycle.
Place an Earth Formation with eighty-eight nodes, a Celestial Formation with one hundred and four.
Alchemy takes one hundred and seventy-four days, trials have four hundred and forty-one difficulties.
Like dwarves loving beauty and drinking, and elves closeness to nature... it’s almost an ingrained habit.
Of course, in Xu Xuan Heaven’s formation theory, aligning with those hidden celestial numbers does increase a formation’s success rate and stability.
Some rebellious or innovative cultivators tried setting up thirty-seven formations or one hundred and nine formations, but almost none of them functioned or achieved expected results.
Whether cultivators’ instincts influenced the world, or whether there truly existed an as-yet incompletely understood law behind it, nobody knew.
“Miss Selene, what do you think?” Chen Yu blinked on her shoulder, bringing the conversation back on track.
Selene snapped out of her number-ruminations, nodded, and said: “Very good. From a knowledge standpoint, deciphering these formations isn’t particularly difficult for us; the main issue is the sheer amount of work—it will consume considerable time and energy.”
“But, Your Majesty, building a brand-new levitating fortress from scratch is not as simple as you might imagine; it could be much harder than building a city. It involves magical engineering and construction that elves rarely engage with, as well as manpower.”
“Of course, the monetary cost would also be astronomical. Even constructing a simplified levitating fortress, I estimate you’d need a budget of at least one million gold coins.”
“You must understand how immensely many arms and resources that amount of money could equip and train into a conventional legion. If the levitating fortress fails to produce results greater than what an army trained with the same funds could achieve, then this plan would create a massive deficit the kingdom’s people would have to fill through years of sacrifice.”
“I ask that you carefully consider the risks and costs before making a final decision.”
Selene’s tone was solemn—she had to ensure the young king understood the stakes and wasn’t acting on impulse.
Chen Yu hopped, brimming with confidence. “The detailed budget and engineering plan have already been organized by Little Flower and Silver Sparrow.”
As he spoke, Silver Sparrow waved an arm and several thick stacks of documents floated over, handed to Selene.
She reported: “According to Silver Sparrow’s preliminary calculations, the levitating fortress project—from initial research and reverse-engineering of formations, to procurement of magical materials, recruitment and wages for craftsmen, transport of magical materials, actual construction, and potential accidental losses—the total estimated cost is about one million one hundred and thirty thousand gold coins.”
“This is a preliminary estimate; actual costs may fluctuate by ten to fifteen percent due to changes in material prices or breakthroughs in technical difficulties.”
She paused, then continued: “According to recent data compiled by the kingdom’s merchant guild, the kingdom’s tax revenue this month is nearly eight thousand gold coins. Taxes mainly come from tolls and goods taxes paid by caravans, and intermediary commissions generated when clients post requests and adventurers accept them through the Adventurer’s Guild.”
“Part of these funds are allocated to the Adventurer’s Guild’s operations and development, while the majority is delivered to the kingdom’s treasury.”
“Currently, the treasury has around one hundred and sixty thousand usable gold coins remaining. In addition, various spoils of war—materials, weapons, magical items—are preliminarily valued at the equivalent of about three hundred and seventy thousand gold coins. The kingdom’s total available assets are roughly four hundred and thirty thousand gold coins.”
Silver Sparrow’s calm gaze swept across the assembled group: “If we calculate based on the kingdom’s current monthly tax income, and assume the kingdom introduces no new large expenditures and makes no other draws from the treasury, it would still take about eight years and seven months to accumulate the funds needed to build the levitating fortress.”
This figure caused several sages to involuntarily shake their heads.
Eight years.
While not long for elves, for a fledgling kingdom this would be a period full of uncertainties and risks.
Selene pondered for a moment, then suddenly asked: “What if we waive our salaries?”
Silver Sparrow’s eyes flickered, and almost without hesitation she answered: “The expected research and construction period for the levitating fortress is estimated at six months to three years depending on complexity. If we take the most optimistic six-month scenario and deduct the full salaries for the six Grand Mages, we could save about forty-eight thousand gold coins.”
Upon hearing that number, Selene folded her arms, entertained by the idea—she hadn’t realized the king had offered such generous pay.
Nearly fifty thousand gold coins for half a year—certainly a very generous sum even for Grand Mages like them.
She soon suppressed her smile and spoke seriously: “However, this is a cooperation between the Forest Sage Council and the Slime Kingdom. We will jointly solve the problems and share research results and knowledge. Under that premise, we do not require this salary.”
“Instead, the Sage Council can provide approximately one hundred and ten thousand gold coins in financial support for the levitating fortress’s research and construction. That is all the reserves we can mobilize now.”
The employees not only volunteered to forgo pay, they even subsidized the boss’s project?
Chen Yu was touched—was this the idealism and practical spirit of intellectuals?
But Selene’s next words pulled him back to reality: “Even so, the problem remains. There's still a gap of almost six hundred thousand gold coins to the estimated one million one hundred and thirty thousand.”
She turned to Chen Yu on her shoulder, her emerald eyes fixed on him: “My Majesty, how do you intend to cover this massive funding gap?”
As Selene said, raising nearly six hundred thousand gold coins was not easy for the Slime Kingdom even with the Council’s support; it could still take years of tax revenue.
The kingdom was desperately short on funds—very short.
By coincidence, their neighbors, the Misty Bay Harbor Trade Alliance—the shrewd merchants, nobles, and councilors who controlled north-south sea and land trade routes—were absurdly wealthy.
Yes, the kingdom needed money and the Trade Alliance had money—how convenient.
Chen Yu thought, his gel belly sloshing mischievously.
Hehe, as the saying goes: while neighbors stockpile grain, I stockpile soldiers — neighbors are my granary... ah no, it’s cooperation and mutual development.
He had long been eyeing the lucrative north-south trade routes and those merchants; though Winterhold’s trade route to the southern kingdoms had only just opened, his devious commercial plan still required time to lay groundwork and implement.
So Chen Yu puffed out his round little chest and assured them mysteriously: “Don’t worry about the funding gap. It’s all part of my plan.”
“Let’s hope so.” Selene was curious at his confident reply, but seeing the Little Majesty’s enigmatic demeanor she didn’t press further.
After the sages finished skimming the remaining files, they discussed specific details and feasibility with Little Flower and Silver Sparrow. Once serious, the sages immediately displayed the rigor and focus expected of Grand Mages, quickly immersing themselves in optimizing the plan’s details, momentarily forgetting the king Chen Yu altogether.
Chen Yu didn’t mind; he wasn’t a lazy slime spending his days idling—there were many royal affairs to handle each day.
He hopped down from Selene’s shoulder, left the castle’s basement, and nimbly climbed onto the back of the sprawled Little Ka.
“Little Ka, let’s go.”
Little Ka emitted a contented rumble, adjusted his posture, and prepared to flap his wings for takeoff.
At that moment, Silver Sparrow’s voice sounded in his mind: “Master, Silver Sparrow has recently compiled and integrated information from the Gel Network from across the kingdom. Based on the latest intelligence from the northern wildmen outpost, combined with climate data, signs of Orc tribe activity, and past patterns, the probability of large-scale Orc southward movement is very high.”
“The regions expected to be impacted concentrate mainly in the kingdom’s eastern East Swamp and the northern border of the Storm Territory. These areas have relatively weak defenses and are traditional southern routes for Orc incursions. Please prepare accordingly.”
Orcs moving south... Chen Yu was not surprised.
The barren cold northern lands lack resources, and when winters grow harsh, the strong and savage Orc tribes often head south to pillage for survival.
This year, though, it seemed to be starting earlier—perhaps connected to demonic activity or abnormal climate conditions.
Chen Yu swished his gel around and said: “I feel it—the chill in the air.”
“Sekashi, Semiaya, they might be coming back.”
The Ice Elemental Giant that had contracted with Sekashi had recently ended a long slumber and grown restless, wandering near the snowplain around Winterhold and even helping nearby Slime Engineers with construction—freezing foundations, making temporary ice huts—much more active than before.
Though the Ice Elemental Giant couldn’t directly reveal precise news of Sekashi and her sister, its odd behavior hinted that the Sekashi sisters might have experienced some major change.
Perhaps they had completed that unknown Snow Eagle Trial and were about to return.
In any case, this winter was destined not to be peaceful.