Tifike Wemberton walked into the arched dome atop the Blue Water Harbor Tower.
Unlike typical castles, this tower-like structure is taller and narrower. Beyond handling state affairs and sightseeing, it likely can't even convene ministers for court sessions.
The room's furnishings remained untouched, as if the master had just departed and would return soon. Facing the entrance stood a reddish-brown square table, its surface neatly arranged with books. At the center lay unfinished manuscripts, while a quill pen stood ready in its inkwell, poised to resume writing at any moment.
He made his way to the table and settled into the wide chair. The seat was covered with a bamboo mat, perfect for beating the midsummer heat. A large bucket of water stood beside it, clearly meant to hold ice cubes for cooling. Yet the gloomy sky overhead, with dark clouds pressing low over the sea, kept the room from feeling stuffy.
Tiefike leaned forward, pressing his face to the table for a soft sniff. A delicate fragrance wafted into his nostrils—the beloved scent of Blue Bichui, cultivated in Hanfeng Ridge. Unlike roses or rosemary, it carried a unique coolness, as if the icy snow of the northern lands had melted into its essence.
Only through prolonged use can an object develop its own character. His sister, as usual, sat in the chair with hands resting on the table, either listening to reports or drafting decrees.
At this thought, he couldn't help laughing.
"Ha ha... ha... ha ha... ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
He finally won!
By abandoning the Port of Clear Waters and the southern territories, Garcia effectively relinquished the Graycastle throne.
Upon learning that the Black Sail Fleet was advancing northward along the coastline, he swiftly rallied his men and led over five thousand slaves, rats, and criminals straight to the southern frontier, launching an assault on the Jiaxia stronghold of Bishui Harbor. The only resistance came from the desert dwellers at the southernmost tip—these people, having received some mysterious promise, charged forward like madmen. What made matters worse was that they too possessed the Madening Pills.
The battle raged for nearly two weeks. Tifeke, capitalizing on his numerical superiority, repeatedly crushed the enemy's counterattacks while steadily eroding the Sha people's defenses. Nearly three thousand men perished in this attrition war. Had it not been for the pill's effects, this ragtag group would never have dared to set foot on the battlefield, let alone engage in direct combat with the savage and ferocious Sha people.
The battle ended with him trudging through layers of corpses to reach the Lord's Tower at Bishui Harbor.
The legendary 'Queen of Clear Waters' has faded into history, and the southern territories of Graycastle have finally returned to his control.
"Your Majesty?" Hearing his hearty laughter, Knight, who had been standing guard outside, burst in.
"No problem," Tifike said, rising and tilting his head to signal him to follow. Then he climbed up to the terrace through the side door of the round house.
A salty sea breeze brushed against my face, rustling my robe in the wind. In the distance, dark clouds grew denser, as if a heavy rain was about to fall.
"What a pity," he thought. He had hoped to witness with his own eyes the burning of the Third Sister's harbor, docks, and Lord's Tower, but that seemed impossible. For the past six months, he had been leading troops in campaigns far from the capital, rarely staying there for even a month. All state affairs were entrusted to the Prime Minister—though the Marquis of Wick appeared loyal, loyalty couldn't forever keep bribes at bay, as the case of Goron Wimberton proved. He needed to return to the capital swiftly to stabilize the turbulent political situation, but the southern rains had been falling for days on end, and he couldn't wait.
"I shall depart for the capital tomorrow morning," Tifeco declared. "All knights and mercenaries except the Imperial Guards and the capital's Knight Regiment are under your command. Sir Ed Hors, see to the southern borders and prevent the Sandfolk from setting foot in Graycastle." "You... want me to stay?" the young knight from the northern Hors family stammered. "Yet I wish to continue serving you, Your Majesty. I—" Tifeco cut him off. "Guarding the frontier is my duty, Sir. There remains much to be done, so I must leave a loyal and capable man to handle the aftermath." "But..." Ed hesitated.
"I know what you're worried about," the new king said with a smile, patting his shoulder. "Rest assured, you won't stay here forever. Once the waterside harbor matter is settled, I'll have you transferred back to the capital immediately. Graycastle remains divided, and before reclaiming the western territories, I need more Knights to fight for me. How could I leave you here?" He lifted his head, his eyes gleaming, then knelt and declared loudly, "Your Majesty, I obey!" "Rise," Tifeco nodded approvingly. "Three tasks await you. First, evacuate all remaining residents from the waterside harbor to the capital." "Don't you plan to hang those traitors?" Knight asked in surprise.
"No, they're not true traitors. Had they truly defected to Jiashia, they'd have left with the Black Sail Fleet long ago. Killing them would only serve her purpose." Yet Sanmei's influence proved more formidable than he anticipated. Despite the port's original population of over ten thousand and the slaves captured from Eagle City, only four hundred remained unwilling to depart. Had it not been for the Sha people's fierce resistance, this port would have been no different from an abandoned city.
"Your Majesty's benevolence." "The second order is to burn down the docks, shipyards, and Lord's Tower. I must show all in the southern realm that Giasia's stronghold is gone—no matter how she returns, she'll find only ruins." "Yes," Knight replied.
"The final task is to gather refugees for me," Tifeco gazed at the horizon and said calmly. "Any homeless individuals, rats, bandits, or even desert dwellers will do. Since the Battle of Eagle City, the southern conflicts have never ceased. There must be large numbers of refugees in nearby villages and towns. The method of gathering is irrelevant. Before the war against the western frontier begins, you must provide me with at least a five-thousand-strong force." Jiasia's escape validated her strategy of draining the rebels' strength through the population of most Graycastle territory. Typically, a hundred Knights would lead thousands of civilians in attacks, remaining in the rear to distribute pills and command the battle. With overwhelming numbers, the enemy would inevitably collapse if they kept being drained. Jiasia's retreat, however, demonstrated decisiveness. Had she stubbornly held out at Bishui Harbor, she would have been gradually consumed by the pill-affected, frenzied civilians.
Now his only remaining enemy is Roland Wimbledon from the western border.