The letter was sent, and Jingyao replied quickly.
Paul opened the envelope in his office. Rodney XVIII's handwriting was clear and neat, with bright ink, as if he had carefully considered it before writing.
As he read, his expression gradually darkened.
At the beginning of the letter, the king expressed his admiration without reservation.
He praised Paul for his "far-sightedness and concern for the long-term safety of the kingdom," saying that his strategic vision "far exceeded the duties of an ordinary lord," and that his loyalty was "moving and a model for subjects."
These words are written with sincerity and passion, as if Paul were not the one whose request was rejected, but a hero who devoted himself to the future of the nation.
But praise is followed by rejection.
Sure enough, the king's tone gradually turned serious:
"However, I must also face reality. Aldor has just experienced the Giles Rebellion in the south, where war destroyed three major counties, countless people were displaced, farmland was abandoned, and livestock died. Immediately afterwards, the north was invaded by orcs, border towns were looted, people fled, and the national treasury was almost depleted."
"The people of the kingdom have already suffered too much. They should not continue to pay the price for the grand schemes of those in power. They need to survive. They do not need any more wars, even those waged under the banner of lasting peace."
"What the kingdom needs most now is not expansion, but rest and recuperation. It needs the land to grow crops again, the cities to regain their vitality, and the common people to sleep peacefully without having to hear the war drums and sirens."
"I cannot let them pay the price again for a victory that is far away."
"The rest of the kingdom is not like the Northwest Bay. They do not have your machines that can save a lot of manpower. With a large number of young men being conscripted into the army, agriculture will lack labor and the fields will become barren. Therefore, I humbly request you, esteemed Marquis Gleman, as a member of the Ordos, to guard our borders and protect our people. We can discuss the next steps once the country has truly recovered."
At the end of the letter, the king once again thanked Paul for his loyalty and promised to continue supporting the defense of the kingdom's north and ensuring the fortress's stability.
Paul finished reading and remained silent for a long time.
He gently placed the letter on the table, his gaze passing through the window and landing on Lake Vis.
At least on the surface, the letter reads without anger or suspicion, and even carries a hint of sincerity.
But it is equally resolute, leaving no room for maneuver.
Rodney XVIII wanted peace, stability, and a chance for the kingdom to recover from the flames of war.
What he wants is to completely eliminate the threat and solve the problem once and for all.
The next day, in the council chamber of the lord's manor.
Morning light slanted in through the tall, narrow stone window, illuminating the dust particles floating in the air, while the map hanging on the wall was still densely marked with enemy and friendly positions.
But the atmosphere was no longer as tense as before.
Paul stood at the front of the long table, with the King's reply spread out in front of him. Several key generals, including Old Ford and Schröder, sat on either side, their expressions solemn, having already noticed the lord's silence and gravity over the past few days.
"You've all seen the King's reply," Paul began. "He understands our strategic intentions and appreciates our loyalty—but he will not approve conscription or support military operations deep into the grasslands."
The hall was silent. No one was surprised, but everyone felt a heavy weight of reality pressing down on them.
"We cannot continue to overdraw our strength to eliminate the orcs alone," Paul continued. "The Northwest Bay has already paid too high a price for this war. Laketown has issued three rounds of war bonds, factories are working day and night, trade routes have shrunk, essential industries have been cut back, and even schools and hospitals have given up resources. Can the people withstand another full mobilization?"
He looked around at everyone: "No! We cannot carry out the conquest of the grasslands without the support of other parts of the kingdom, as that would severely hinder the social development of the Northwest Bay."
Bryce said in a low voice, "So...we're stopping at Blackwater Lake on the plains? Wait...Lord Grylls, if I may be so bold, at least Blackwater Lake will remain in our hands, right?"
"That's it for now," Paul nodded. "Our task from now on is defense, not conquest. The fortress on Blackwater Lake is complete, gunboats control the lake, and the supply lines are secure. As long as Abar doesn't dare to make any rash moves, we will hold our existing defenses, consolidate our control zone, train our troops, and wait for the right opportunity."
Hansel slowly began, "What about the trade routes? What about the trade routes outside Watcher's Fortress?"
"Perhaps…" Paul hesitated, "we can talk to Abar and ask him to restrain his army. I think Abar understands that prosperous trade routes are more conducive to acquiring wealth."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over each of his subordinates: "I know you are unwilling, and so am I. But we must not only win the war, but also understand when to advance and when to halt."
The people in the hall were silent for a moment, then nodded one after another.
Schroeder said softly, "We understand."
Hansel nodded in agreement: "Maintaining existing achievements is more difficult, but also more important, than blindly expanding."
Paul nodded slightly and put the letter away from the table.
"Transmit my decision to Stanford and Andrew," he said calmly. "Shift to normal defense. The Northern Third Brothers should restore civilian production, but militia training should not stop, and the intelligence system should continue to monitor the situation on the grasslands. We will not attack, but we cannot let our guard down either."
After the lengthy meeting ended, it was nearly dusk, and everyone dispersed.
Paul walked through the stone corridor of the manor to the living room in the backyard.
He had just sat down when he noticed that Catherine was already inside. She was standing by the window, draped in a dark blue velvet blanket. She turned around when she heard footsteps, her eyes gentle yet carrying a hint of barely perceptible worry.
"You've been too quiet these past few days." She approached, her voice soft. "Gold's reply…is it bothering you?"
Paul leaned back in his chair, loosened his collar, and chuckled softly. "It's not as serious as you think. It's just a strategic difference. He wants to recuperate, while I want a permanent solution. We're both doing this for the good of the kingdom, just on different paths."
She gazed at him, not responding immediately. Because of the connection in their soul space, they were practically an old married couple; she knew him all too well—beneath that calm exterior lay unfathomable depths of thought.
"If…" Paul suddenly began, his tone laced with a hint of mockery, yet also a probing one, "If one day he and I were truly at odds, whose side would you be on?"
Catherine didn't laugh. She simply walked slowly to him and bent her knees little by little until her white knees touched the soft carpet.
She didn't look up, but gently pressed her cheek against Paul's leg, as if to comfort him, or as if to make a vow.
Her voice was soft, yet as clear as a vow:
"You are my husband, that is, my king, the one sent by the Father to rule over me."
"Blood ties may break, loyalty may waver, and the crown may change hands... but you are my destined home."
"No matter where you go, I will stand by your side."
The fire cast their overlapping shadows on the wall—one sitting, one kneeling, yet seemingly blending into one.
Paul paused for a moment, then raised his hand and gently stroked his wife's hair; he could feel his fingertips trembling.
Thank you, darling.