Chapter 955: Chapter 954: Each Finds Their Own Peace

Andresha shook her head, casting the bold thought that suddenly popped into her mind out of her head.

She herself is not a believer (this is very rare in this world), yet even as a non-believer, she never truly thought about what it would be like to completely remove the power of priests and the church from the Empire’s military, officials, and the aristocratic hierarchy above them. This was too bold an idea, and as a border general, she wasn’t on the level to ponder such matters.

"We’ve been outside long enough," she exhaled, speaking to the attendant beside her, "it’s time to return to the fortress."

As she spoke, she raised her head and saw the north wind stirring the Empire’s Flag atop the distant towers. Three gryphon knights and two combat Mages patrolling at low altitude swept through the sky, and farther away, pale blue magic eyes floated in the clouds—those were the Mage Sentinels of Winterwolf Fortress monitoring movements in the plains.

After most of the War God Priests were reassigned, the defensive strength of Winterwolf Fortress not only did not weaken in the slightest but instead became more rigorous due to proactive redeployment and increased patrol shifts. However, this temporary reinforcement came at the cost of extra consumption, and even a strong Empire could not afford such waste for long.

Hopefully Aldernon can come up with a solution soon.

With this thought, Andresha, accompanied by two attendants, left the market and returned to Winterwolf Fortress among the town.

She stepped into the castle, passing through corridors and staircases, reaching the second floor of the castle. Just as she stepped off the stairs, she saw one of her personal guards waiting for her at the study door.

"General," seeing Andresha appear, the guard immediately stepped forward and saluted, "there’s a letter for you—from Aldernon, with the violet irises mark."

"Matilda’s letter then," Andresha’s face showed a slight smile, quickly returning to calm. She took the wax-sealed envelope handed by the guard and nodded slightly, "Thank you, you may go."

"Yes, General."

The guard left, and Andresha turned into the study. She casually broke the wax seal on the letter, her gaze skimming the violet irises in the paper’s corner. She unfolded the snowy white stationery and familiar handwriting came into view.

The beginning was the customary greetings.

Andresha slightly relaxed, one hand took off the brown cloak draped outside her coat, the other held the letter. She read it slowly while pacing in the study.

The letter mentioned recent changes in Aldernon, noting that the Royal Mage Association and "Typhon Communications Company" would jointly reform the Empire-wide communication Tower—a decision already discussed in the council and commanded by the royal family, inevitably implemented, just as Matilda prophesied in the previous correspondence.

Andresha stood by the window; the twilight light was not too bright, yet the slanted sunlight on the letter brought a texture of comfort, neither glaring nor dim. Her gaze shifted over those elegant script lines, a smile emerging on her often stern face before her subordinates.

"...I went to watch the ’Magic Shadow Drama,’ quite popular among young aristocrats lately. Surprisingly, it was rather entertaining—though indeed rough and a bit frivolous, quite different from traditional theater, I must privately admit it was more appealing than other dramas I’ve seen...

"But I’m somewhat concerned that the Shadows produced by the Cecil Clan are designed based on Cecil itself, and many young nobles are now learning to drink Cecil’s Carna Wine and mocktail teas—yet just a few years ago, most ’Anzu’ traditions were targets of their scorn..."

Andresha gently flipped the letter, the paper making a faint pleasant rustle in motion.

This was indeed merely a personal letter describing daily life; Matilda seemingly wrote whatever came to mind, discussing recent changes in the imperial capital, then her insights while researching Magic Guide Technology and mathematical knowledge—Andresha had to admit reading such things was quite challenging but fortunately the section was brief—then sharing other novel items brought by Cecil Clan merchants.

Eventually, as the sunset gradually tinged slightly red, her gaze settled on the letter’s end, where Matilda’s elegant handwriting extended, forming line after line of words:

"...Andresha, after you left the imperial capital, even greater changes occurred, many things are hard to express in writing, I only wish you could witness them firsthand...

"The times have changed, many changes beyond our foresight, even surpassing my father’s foresight, beyond the foresight of councilors and advisers.

"The Empire’s market in the south of the continent is rapidly unfolding; the Highmountain Kingdom and elves are doing business with Typhon Empire, Count Dyson opened the first coastal trading routes and established an outpost on Tasos Island. We are reclaiming ancient colonial islands offshore, more young people migrate south and to the East Coast, seeking opportunities there.

"Years ago, nearly all of us believed the Empire needed a war—so did I—but now it’s different; what it needs is peace—the greater benefit, at least for Typhon Empire at this stage.

"I hope you think the same..."

Andresha gently exhaled, folded the letter again, stood quietly for a few seconds, then shook her head with a helpless smile.

Before, she was ordered to monitor Cecil’s movements, seeking the opportunity for a decisive attack, although she didn’t accomplish the task quite successfully, she never disobeyed her orders. But now, her orders are to protect the border, maintain order here, and while safeguarding the border, preserve peace with the Cecil Clan—though this command conflicted with her emotions, she would still resolutely comply.

Empire interests above personal feelings are naturally so.

"You’re worried too much... I don’t have muscles growing in my head."

After casually murmuring, she waved the few letter pages in the air, flames rising from nowhere, devouring the thin paper in breaths, leaving only a trace of ashes scattered.

The envelope was retained—she restored the slightly crumpled envelope, placing it in a small cabinet beside the desk.

The military has strict rules; private letters received by senior officers cannot be kept, burning after reading is mandatory, regardless of the content, even if it’s just white paper—and Andresha never breaks her established rules.

Retaining the envelope was already the greatest "favoritism" she could do.

Then she came to the desk, spread out a piece of stationery, ready to write a reply.

But before putting pen to paper, she suddenly paused again. Looking at the familiar desk in front of her, Andresha’s heart suddenly filled with thoughts—if her father were still here, what would he do? What would he say?

Her father was different from herself; she only knew how to solve problems in a military way, while her father had broader knowledge and more agile tactics. If it were her father, he would surely handle the complex situation with ease, whether facing the anomalies in the Sect of the God of War, the intrigues among aristocrats, or... the bewildering new relationship between the Empire and the Cecil clan.

After a few seconds of silence, the young Wolf General shook her head and began to formulate her response with difficulty. It took a long time before she finally completed the reply letter to Princess Matilda—

"Letter received, all is well at the border, will keep your reminders in mind. I am interested in what you mentioned, but I won’t be returning this year during the holidays—definitely next time.

Andresha Wendell."

Night had already fallen, and the lights were bright inside and outside the fortress. Andresha let out a long sigh, wiping nonexistent sweat off her forehead, feeling more exhausted than after a day on the battlefield.

There was one more thing her father excelled at—writing skills...

...

"Oh, Mr. Bard—just the person, here’s today’s handover report," a young technician stood up from the desk holding the Magic Web terminal and handed a document, complete with tables and staff signatures, to the middle-aged man who had just entered the room, casting a somewhat surprised glance up and down at him. "Here so early today?"

Bard Wendell, wearing the standard uniform of a technician, smiled slightly as he accepted the handover documents and nodded: "Nothing much to do in the dormitory, so I thought I’d come over and check the data."

As he spoke, he raised his head, surveying the "surveillance control room"—a large room neatly arranged with several high-powered Magic Web terminals, two still expensive Immersion Capsules placed in the corners, and numerous technicians monitoring the data beside these devices, a low buzzing sound faintly reverberating within the room.

"You should develop some personal hobbies—like occasionally playing cards or kicking a ball with everyone," the young technician mumbled, "Wouldn’t it be boring to stay in the dorm researching all the time?"

"I like researching—to me, it’s more interesting than playing cards," Bard said casually, while asking, "Any findings today?"

"Certainly not—where’s such luck?" the young man shrugged, "The signals are elusive, appearing at whim, and we can only passively listen here—who knows when we’ll next receive a signal."

At that point, he couldn’t help but glance at Bard again, a bit of curiosity showing on his face: "Anyway... I really didn’t expect you to be so quick to get familiar with the ’Listening Group’ here. I thought you were just helping out temporarily, soon to return to the Druid Research Institute."

Bard’s gaze moved away from the handover sheet as he slowly sat next to his equipment, then smiled and shook his head: "I’m quite confident in my learning abilities, and the listening work here is not too complicated for me. As for the Druid Research Institute... I have already submitted my application. My files will be completely transferred from there next month."

"Why?!" The young technician immediately widened his eyes in surprise, "You are a scholar with three oak leaves there, surely the treatment should be much better!"

"...I don’t want to deal with those things anymore, for some... personal reasons," Bard said with slight hesitation, "Of course, I know Druid technology is quite useful, which is why I joined the institute when manpower was most lacking here. But now, with the technicians from the imperial capital already deployed and Madam Beltira leading the new research team, they don’t really need an ordinary Druid like me anymore."

A hint of self-deprecation came through in his tone.

"Alright, it seems you’ve made your decision." The young technician looked at Bard once more, saying with slight helplessness.

He actually didn’t know the background or experiences of this slightly aloof, past-mysterious colleague. As someone recently transferred here as a "listener," by the time he arrived, this man was already a "senior member" of the Sorin Region’s technical department. He occasionally heard snippets from others, aware that this person named Bard seemed to have a complex past, even once being a member of the Typhon Empire... But those were merely irrelevant rumors.

The young technician wasn’t keen on digging into the past experiences of others, and besides, he was already off work by now.

His colleague left, and the others in the room were busy with their own work. Bard finally sighed lightly, seated at his workstation, his attention fixed on the holographic projection from the Magic Web terminal.

Calm background noise formed an even twinkling "curtain" on the holographic projection, with nothing displayed.

Bard picked up a small earpiece from the desk beside him and placed it on his ear.

The Resonating Crystal embedded within the earpiece received the monitoring signals relayed from the Sorin Hub, a sequence of gentle and rarely undulating sounds quietly echoed, sinking bit by bit into Bard Wendell’s heart.

It evoked thoughts of the Green Forest Valley’s breezes and the nights filled with the sound of insects chirping at Long Branch Manor during the summer season.

Today’s listening may still yield no results, but this tranquility itself was the greatest reward for Bard.

...

"A tour of Talronde... rest assured, Speaker Andar has already entrusted me with it!" Melita Ponia said with a smile to Gawain, looking quite happy (probably because of the extra pay for overtime work). "I will take you to visit various iconic areas of Talronde, from the hottest arena to the ancient poetry square. If you’re willing, we can also check out the Lower City District... The Speaker has given me high authority, and I think besides the Upper Sanctum and a few major management departments, you can freely visit all other places."

As she spoke, she seemed to suddenly recall something, then quickly added: "Oh, yes, Noreta will also be coming. After all, she’s the dragonkin you’ve interacted with the most besides me. Do you remember her? White Dragon Noreta."

"Of course I remember," Gawain nodded, following Melita out of the palace at the Council Headquarters. The bright lights surrounding the palace outside illuminated the wide road ahead, a continuous light stretching from the mountaintop downwards extending towards the city on the plains. The myriad twinkling lights of the city gave Gawain the brief illusion of another time travel, making him blink instinctively, before shifting his gaze back to Melita, "But where are we going now?"

"Before officially showing you around, it’s naturally proper to settle the esteemed guests first," Melita said with a smile, looking at Gawain, Veronica Moen, and the slightly drowsy Amber. "I apologize, as Talronde does not have a dedicated palace like the ’Autumn Palace’ for hosting foreign envoys, but if you don’t mind, during the next few days, you can stay at my place—although it’s a private residence, my home is fairly large."

"Certainly don’t mind," Gawain immediately said, "Then for the next few days, we will be imposing on you."

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