The weather was splendid today, the snow had finally stopped, and sunlight peeked out from the clouds.
It was a perfect day to install the floating fortress base.
Yet one dwarf master’s mood at this moment was anything but sunny.
The reason was simple— they were almost out of money!
Anvil stood at the dock’s edge, hands on his hips, staring down at the round base in the pit for a long time.
The base had already taken shape.
A gigantic disk more than a hundred meters across rose from the pit, made entirely of metal, its surface engraved with dense runes.
Sunlight slipped through a gap in the clouds and landed on those runes, reflecting a faint purple halo.
The runes were beautiful, but his brow was tightly furrowed, his face full of worry.
Even if it was just a base, in his eyes it might as well have been a work of art.
But that artwork now faced the embarrassing prospect of running out of funds and the project grinding to a halt.
“One copper ingot costs twenty gold coins, we spent twenty thousand gold coins; one mithril ingot costs fifty gold coins, we spent forty thousand gold coins...” he muttered, counting on his fingers. Each new calculation deepened the worry on his face.
“At this rate, the remaining funds won’t last a few more days.”
He turned and looked at Chen Yu, who was squatting on a nearby stone.
Their His Majesty the Slime had come to inspect progress, yet now he was sprawled on the rock, happily basking in the sun.
Sensing Anvil’s gaze, his body trembled, slowly contracting from a flat pancake shape and reforming into a round, plump blob.
Chen Yu saw his worry and offered comfort, “Don’t fret about money, it’ll come.”
Anvil scratched his long beard, but the worry didn’t lift.
“If only you knew some stone-into-gold magic.”
Chen Yu wobbled his gel. “How do you know I don’t?”
Anvil touched his beard and was about to retort when a message from the gel network suddenly reached him.
His eyes widened instantly, his mouth fell open, and his expression shifted from bafflement to incredulity, then from incredulity to unrestrained joy.
“Did it arrive?” Chen Yu asked leisurely.
No one answered.
Then a cheer burst out nearby, loud enough to shake the air and startled the slime engineers into bouncing to their feet.
“It’s here! It’s here!”
Anvil was so excited he acted like a drunken fool, scooped Chen Yu up, hoisted him into the air, and spun in circles on the spot.
“Your Majesty, the gold coins have arrived! One hundred thousand gold coins, a full one hundred thousand!”
Chen Yu was dizzy from being jostled, his gel form gurgled, then he wrenched free and jumped down.
Anvil, forgetting his manners, kept rubbing his hands in excitement.
“The city hall just reported it, the orcs delivered one hundred thousand gold coins, they’re transporting it to the dock now. Majesty, didn’t you already know?”
Chen Yu wobbled. “I guessed.”
Anvil didn’t press further; he no longer cared.
“With that money, tomorrow we can start building the main chambers, then install the levitation rings, tune the energy core, activate the magic formations...”
“Three months, at most three months, Your Majesty, and you’ll see it fly.”
Infected by Anvil’s enthusiasm, Chen Yu felt his spirits lift. He hopped onto Little Ka’s back to bid farewell to Anvil.
“Alright, sunbathing time is over. I must go.”
Anvil blinked. “Majesty, where are you going?”
“Of course to go give the disobedient neighbors a visit.” Little Ka flapped his wings and shot into the sky; Chen Yu’s voice faded into the distance until it was barely audible.
“King, where are we going?” Little Ka asked curiously.
“The Dark Realm City.”
“By the way, Little Ka, you still haven’t seen the sea.”
“The sea? What’s the sea? Does it taste good?” Little Ka sounded like something that might be delicious.
“You’ll see if you come with me.”
As he spoke, Chen Yu sorted through the intelligence Galvin had sent.
The Merchant Alliance’s latest update had arrived last night.
The message was short, but every point was interesting.
Councilors had been arguing in the chamber for more than ten days.
The loss of the Southern Territory cut the alliance’s trade income by forty percent, and after the canyon battle the losses were catastrophic.
Those merchant nobles who lived off southern trade were publicly demanding action from the government in the council every day—they wanted the military to retaliate, they wanted the Slime Kingdom to pay.
Of course, some proposed a peaceful approach, arguing that provoking the Slime Kingdom was unwise and peaceful coexistence was most important.
Because of the legion’s defeat, pro-peace voices had grown louder in the council, but they still hadn’t outnumbered the hawks.
The arguments got so heated that someone even proposed producing enough golems to crush the Slime Kingdom by sheer numbers.
When Chen Yu heard this, his body gurgled a few bubbles.
Golems.
Those things were indeed frightening: mithril skeletons, arcane cores, enchanted armor—each one expensive.
The Merchant Alliance’s golem corps could rank among the best in the southern kingdoms. If the Caldwell faction truly decided to pull all their golem stock out, it would be a formidable force.
But Chen Yu wasn’t worried about how many forces the Merchant Alliance could muster—he worried about how long the Merchant Alliance could endure.
The loss of the Southern Territory meant trade lines were severed. Severed trade lines meant income plunged. Plunging income meant deeper splits within the council.
Those councilors could still sit together and quarrel because they still had money to lose and interests to divide.
When they no longer had the capital even to argue with, they’d turn on one another like starved beasts, and the Slime Kingdom would only need to apply a little pressure to send that towering edifice tumbling.
As the sky shifted from bright to dim, Little Ka had already flown to the Dark Realm and landed in the square of the Dark Realm City.
Amid the citizens’ cries and cheers, he followed the slime guards into the meeting hall beside the Slime Sanctuary.
Inside the hall, Galvin stood fully armored by the model map, draped in a gray wool cloak, looking ready to head out.
Yano sat in a nearby chair, spine rigid, putting on a solemn air. In truth, his strategic thinking was abysmal; he made a tolerable knight, but if he were sent to command troops he might get lost in the canyon for three days and nights.
So Galvin handled the tactical planning alone. Yano didn’t dare interfere.
Besides, once Galvin took things seriously, he wasn’t easy to deal with—he might insist on testing Yano’s mettle in a duel.
Yano was a middle-aged man who just wanted to go home to his wife and kids after work; he had no desire to duel.
Most of the time, however, Galvin was agreeable.
After months together, Yano had learned a few conversational arts.
First rule, and the most important: never bring up Arthur in front of Galvin.
Otherwise Galvin would instantly turn into the inn’s favorite old crone who would yammer on forever and compare who was more formidable.
Second: no matter what he said, if you compliment him until he’s embarrassed, he’ll stop talking.
Third: whatever you do, avoid challenging him to a knightly duel—avoid it at all costs!
Otherwise your life will be nothing but knightly duels thereafter.
Keep clear of knightly duels, or your life will be miserable!
While Yano indulged in these stray thoughts, he saw Chen Yu hop in and rose to welcome him.
“Good morning, Boss.”
Hearing him, Galvin turned and bowed slightly. His posture was impeccable—straight back, chin tucked—like a knight standing before a king.
“Hail, Your Majesty.”
Chen Yu bounced onto the table and asked, “Are we ready?”
“Report, Boss, we’re ready at any moment.” Yano clipped his knightly sword to his belt.
No more words were needed; they all knew what came next.
Chen Yu wobbled his gel. “Very well, then assemble the army. Our target is Misty Bay Harbor.”
Galvin nodded.
“As you command, Majesty.”
Before long, under curious gazes from the citizens, the magical creature legion flew over the city and began to gather, landing on the open ground before the Blackrock Bastion.
The city walls were packed with people.
Yano leaned against the battlement; Chen Yu squatted on his shoulder, watching the dark mass of troops below the walls.
“Majesty.”
Galvin came over and leaned on the battlement as well, peering down at the troops.
Knight Anna stood beside him.
This young knight, who had come from the Border Corps, had matured considerably and no longer flinched at a scene like this.
Yano had heard the girl was likely to become an Extraordinary professional this year.
He couldn’t help but reminisce about the time he left knight training—he must have been about her age then.
Back then he was only an apprentice knight.
Although the Border Corps had become a thing of the past, its seeds were taking root in the Slime Kingdom and might soon blossom into something beautiful.
Putting aside his reflections, the magical creature legion had formed up beneath the walls.
At the front were the Poison-stinger Wasp legions.
Hundreds of dragon beast poison wasps took the lead; each was as large as an aurochs, and armored lizardfolk cavalry sat atop them, gripping long lances, spines proud as they passed inspection.
Behind the dragon beast wasps swarmed countless poison-stinger wasps. They were much smaller—about the size of fists—but their numbers were staggering, forming a moving black cloud that stretched from one end of the wall to the other, blotting out half the sky.
On the ground, Peachy stood at the forefront as the main vanguard.
Behind her, arranged in formations, were the Slime Knight units, the Slime Artillery Regiment, the Elemental Giant units, and the Treant Legion.
Fardoern walked at the head of the Treants, his silver crown glowing like a gigantic umbrella, shading hundreds of arcane treants behind him.
Scattered in dim corners were gargoyles and Stone Descendant assassins.
They were the legion’s freest elements—shadow-walkers and ruthless hunters—usually operating on the periphery of the formations.
Yano stood on the wall watching that vast army and felt moved. The last time he’d seen such a sight had been at the Storm Fortress; he hadn’t expected they’d muster again for the Merchant Alliance.
Chen Yu turned to look at the dark plain in the distance. Wind passed by, making his cloak flutter.
“Move out. Time is short.”
“Yes, Boss.”
Yano extended his right hand, drew his knightly sword from its scabbard, and raised it overhead, the tip pointing toward the sky.
Galvin drew his sword too.
He raised it so their tips met, forming an X on the wall.
“For the Kingdom,” he said.
“For the Kingdom,” Yano echoed.
They then lowered their swords together, the tips pointing toward the army ahead, toward that darkness-shrouded distance.
“Advance.”
The moment that word fell from the walls, Pei Tian uttered a low snort and stepped forward.
The Slime Knight units followed the charge, beetle mounts clawing through the snow and leaving dragging tracks behind.
Artillery wagons rumbled into motion, the Elemental Giants and Treants strode forward, each step shaking the ground.
Yano watched the poison-stinger wasps and gargoyles vanish into the gloom, then turned.
“Boss, we should go as well.”
Galvin nodded, donned his helmet, and vaulted onto his horse.
Anna mounted too.
As for Chen Yu and Yano, they leapt down from the wall and were caught by the incoming Little Ka. Little Ka spread his vast wings and soared toward the distance.
.....
When news reached the Merchant Alliance, it was the next morning.
Winter in Misty Bay Harbor rarely felt this quiet: the sea wind had stilled, tavern uproar had subsided, but the people’s hearts churned with hidden currents beneath the port city.
Simon stood beneath the Meeting Hall’s arched portico, a sheet of parchment in his hand. His face was pale, his lips trembled, his eyes fixed on the words on the page. He stared for a long time but could not read a single character.
Only one thought filled his mind.
The magical creature legion is on the move.
He didn’t know how many troops, or from where they were advancing, but he knew one thing—they were heading for the Merchant Alliance.
He turned and pushed open the oak doors of the Meeting Hall and entered.
The main chamber was already full.
Those nobles and councilors who usually dressed so splendidly were silent now. No one spoke, no one coughed, not even anyone dared breathe loudly.
Simon took his seat and set the parchment on the table.
“Esteemed councilors,” his voice a little hoarse, “I believe we need to revisit our strategy for dealing with the Slime Kingdom.”
.....
When the news reached the Seagull Ship Society, Nolan was drinking coffee.
The beans had just come from the south and the aroma was rich.
He cradled the cup, leaning on the sofa by the hearth, eyes half-open as if dozing yet thoughtful.
Samuel sat opposite him with a book, its pages already near the end—this substantial tome of arcane arts seemed finally close to being finished.
At that moment the butler hurried in.
“Master, the council is convening an emergency meeting. Lord Simon sent word, please attend at once.”
Nolan set his cup on the table and looked up, frowning slightly.
“What’s happened?”
The butler swallowed.
“The magical creature legion has moved out. They came from the Dark Realm, and their scale... is unprecedented.”
“What?”
Nolan froze in place and only slowly recovered.
Samuel just finished the last page of his magic book, closed it with satisfaction, stood, and tucked it into his robe pocket.
“Commander Nolan, we should leave. The council is awaiting you.”
Nolan rose, took his cloak from the rack, and wrapped it about his shoulders, his body prepared though his thoughts were still scattered.
He asked reflexively, “Master Samuel, what do you think will become of the Merchant Alliance?”
Samuel shook his head.
“I do not know.”
“It is not for me to decide—my choices are insignificant.”
“But you are different. You possess the standing and power to sway the council. You can make a choice of your own.”
“A choice I want?”
Nolan murmured, distracted.
Only after he stepped out of his residence with the butler and Samuel and snowflakes kissed his cheek and cold wind rushed into his collar did his gaze clear.
He looked up at the sky.
The sky was a pale gray, thick clouds hiding the sun—bleak, like the future of the Merchant Alliance.
Yet his heartbeat quickened as if he had glimpsed hope.
A bold idea rose in his mind.