After touring the steam engine, Roland and Margery returned to the castle office to finalize the commercial contract. Since such negotiations often involved haggling, it was common for both parties to argue for days. Typically, the Chancellor of the Exchequer would handle the negotiations, with the Lord simply specifying the quantities and bottom line. However, as the other party had already hammered out the price, Roland saved himself considerable effort.
"I anticipate my next arrival will be in a month, when three single-masted ships laden with saltpeter will accompany me," the merchant wrote hastily on parchment. "At ninety percent of market value, this would be worth approximately 315 Golden Dragons." "By then, the town will have produced nearly two steam engines," Roland deliberately understated the quantity. "That's equivalent to 1,000 Golden Dragons. You may use Golden Dragons to cover the difference or substitute with other goods." "What goods do you require?" "Iron, copper, lead, and green vitriol," he stated. "These are common minerals. However, the first three require not ores but refined metal ingots. Additionally, I need ten sets of crystal glassware—whether carved, teapots, or wine glasses, but exclusively the finest products from the Royal Alchemy Workshop. If the price exceeds the difference, I can compensate or deduct it from next month's steam engine expenses." "You're treating me as your exclusive merchant," Margery chuckled. "Though I don't operate mines, I know several peers specializing in ore trade. What I never expected was such vast business potential in this remote frontier. Few Nobles reside here, yet they consume massive quantities of saltpeter. This town, originally built for the North Slope mines, still imports minerals. This defies my merchant's common sense, Your Highness. Your domain is truly extraordinary." A hallmark of industrial production is consuming raw materials in bulk while exporting finished products. Roland spread his hands. "The town will need more in the future. I think we can establish a long-term—" At that moment, Margery suddenly widened her eyes, staring in shock at the back of Roland. The latter froze for a moment, then instinctively turned his head. There, a drenched lightning bolt was pressed against the floor-to-ceiling window, its hands gripping the glass with a face full of panic—her face pale, hair clinging to her forehead in strands, water droplets dripping continuously down her hair as if she had just been pulled from the water.
Roland sprang up and opened the window. As lightning flashed into the room, it plunged into his arms. God, flustered, instantly relaxed and collapsed unconscious.
"Nightingale, call Nana Wa quickly," he said anxiously.
"Yes." A voice responded from the empty side.
What's going on? She shouldn' t have encountered any evil beasts or Devil in mid-air. Could the other party also possess the ability to fly? Roland conducted a quick inspection of Lightning's body and found no obvious injuries, which slightly eased his concerns.
"Your Highness, is she... the lightning you mentioned?" Margery covered her mouth and slowly approached Prince, carefully examining the little girl in his arms.
Roland's heart sank. Damn it, how could he have forgotten her? He shouted out the door,' Sean!' The bodyguard rushed in at the sound.
"Excuse me, Madam Margery, I must ask you to stay here for a while," Prince said, holding the flash station as he rose. "Take this merchant from the capital to the ground-floor guesthouse and keep her under guard. No one may release her without my orders." "Under orders!" "What? No, Your Highness... wait," she suddenly realized. "I have no ill will toward the Witch, especially since she is the daughter of Thunder. I won't report to the Church—" "I'm just being cautious," Roland interrupted. "I'll come to verify this later."
"Your Highness, she's awake," Nightingale said as she opened the door.
Roland nodded and followed the Nightingale into the bedroom. The bucket by the large bed still steamed, its rim draped with damp clothes. A group of witches gathered around the bed, Wendy sitting at the head, gently combing the girl's still-wet hair. The lightning that had once left her face pale now showed a faint blush. Leaning against two pillows, she pulled her blanket high, leaving only half her head exposed, her eyes fixed intently on Roland.
"How's it going?" "No injuries. She was unconscious after her Magic Power ran out," Nightingale replied. "Wendy cleaned her up and put her to bed, and she woke up shortly afterward." He walked to the bedside and smiled at Lightning. "What happened? Why did you come back in such a panic, drenched in the rain?" "I found the ruins," she muttered. "But there's a Devil inside." The words sent a chill down everyone's spine.
"Did you go in?" the book asked.
"No," Lightning shook her head and recounted the events. "Devil was guarding the basement entrance while someone inside was crying for help. But I was too terrified to think—just ran away without trying to save her." She tucked her head under the blanket. "Does this mean I'm no longer qualified as an explorer?" "No, you did well," Roland reassured her. "A true explorer assesses risks and doesn't take unnecessary chances. You couldn't save her alone—escape was the right choice." "Is the stone tower the Witch's?" Wendy mused. "No one but the Witch could reach the depths of the Hidden Forest." "The Witch wouldn't go there either," the scroll shook its head. "It's a relic from four hundred and fifty years ago. Without a map, finding the stone tower in the endless woods would be impossible. Unless..." "Unless what?" Roland asked.
"Unless someone lives there all the time," the book said slowly.
"Are you suggesting they didn't originate from the kingdom, but had been living in isolation for four hundred and fifty years?" Prince dismissed the idea. "Primitive forest dwelling? That's absurd! God-forsaken beasts, terrifying insects and venomous creatures, no stable food supply... Even a man like Baymax couldn't survive in the wild for long. With winter bringing months of blizzards and demons roaming freely, settling in the Lost Forest would be suicidal. He glanced at the lightning." Any signs of human presence near the ruins? "" None," the girl shook her head.
"Perhaps there are more than one map," Soraya remarked. "Maybe others are searching for Tachira just like us." "We can't help them anyway," Ye sighed. "No one can reach the stone tower faster than Lightning." "We'll only know the truth when we get there," Roland stroked his chin. "Just make sure we return unscathed. Let's take a day off from tonight's lesson and rest. The puzzle will solve itself when the time comes." Leaving Lightning's bedroom, he turned to Nightingale. "We've got another challenge to tackle." "Just get her to remove the God's Stone of Punishment," she said with a smile. "Leave the rest to me."