The night completely descended upon the Royal City of the Kingdom of Orr, but this was absolutely no longer the lifeless, mildew-scented darkness of the past.
In the cleanly scrubbed Palace Square, over a dozen massive bonfires soared into the air. Tongues of orange-red flame licked madly at the night sky in the cold wind, reflecting upon those faces that had been baptized by blood and were now overflowing with ecstasy.
Sophia did not let the soldiers gnaw on dry flatbreads amidst the freezing ruins. With a single command from her, the team of chefs brought from Mason took over the rear kitchen that had once served only the decaying Royal House.
"Quick! Make the fire hotter! Take that captured salted beef and boil it in water first to remove the salt!"
"Slice the smoked ham into thick pieces, don't skimp. Your Majesty said there is enough for everyone tonight!"
"Remember to add two scoops of chili powder to the beef stew pot over there; don't let the warriors' stomachs get cold!"
The originally majestic and silent Palace was now completely occupied by the rich aroma of fat and the smell of boiling bone broth. When the first batch of massive trays was carried out jointly by the soldiers, the entire square erupted into thunderous cheers.
The menu for the nation-destroying grand feast had already been drawn up during the chats between Your Majesty Sophia, Irene, and the others.
Meat cold cuts were indispensable. There were smoked ham slices as thin as paper, revealing a translucent, bright red hue. Chewy, intensely savory and fragrant salted beef jerky, as well as secret-recipe sausages cut into segments that oozed oil with a single bite.
Next were the refreshing side dishes: olive greens brought from the greenhouses and pickled using spices scavenged from Orr's cellars, as well as crisp and delicious sour cabbage.
Finally came the heavy main courses: a whole large, fat pig roasted until crisp on the outside and tender on the inside, its skin still sizzling with oil, as well as pots of bubbling, steaming thick stew concentrated with dried seafood scallops and premium fat beef.
Sophia sat on a high chair on the steps of the main hall, holding a cup of warm wild berry juice, and issued her final command:
"Everyone gets half a jug of aged ale. Tonight, Mason shall not return until drunk!"
The aroma of the ale spread along with the heat waves of the bonfires, and this group of men and women who had just walked off the battlefield thoroughly boiled over in excitement.
"Heavens... the taste of this ham, I've never smelled meat this fragrant in my entire life!" a young soldier mumbled indistinctly after stuffing a mouthful of meat into his mouth.
"What do you know! This is the collection of the Royal House of Orr, and now it's all going into the stomachs of us Masonites!"
"Following Your Majesty Sophia is truly the most correct decision of my life!"
"Who dares to say Your Majesty is a Tyrant? Which Tyrant distributes aged ale for their soldiers to drink?!"
"Exactly! After drinking this jug of ale, even if I'm told to pierce through Orr's stables tomorrow, I absolutely won't blink an eye!"
"Following Your Majesty, not only is there meat to eat, but we can also trample underfoot those who used to bully us!"
"This ale truly packs a punch! I feel like I could shoot through a target three thousand meters away with a single shot right now!"
"I think Your Majesty anticipated our victory long ago, which is why she even brought the chefs along in advance. This is divine foresight and brilliant calculation!"
"For the Black Rose! For Your Majesty Sophia! Cheers!"
The soldiers' heartfelt praises, crude jokes, and longing for the future merged into a fanatical faith under the influence of alcohol. They looked at the silver-haired figure on the steps—slender, yet seeming capable of propping up the entire world—and the reverence in their eyes had grown incredibly dense.
Victor held half a pig's trotter in his hand, his quill pen frantically gliding across the parchment on his knee, not even caring to wipe the oil stains on his beard.
A Divine Miracle-like revelry! This was not a simple victory feast; this was civilization's redefinition of the wasteland—
Those soldiers singing and dancing upon the ruins were not venting their desires for destruction, but rather, under Your Majesty's guidance, enjoying the rewards brought by Order.
Your Majesty using Orr's hoards to reward Mason's absolute sincerity was precisely the supreme political maneuver of taking from the excessive to supplement the deficient! Those fiercely burning bonfires burned away Orr's old dreams and ignited Mason's ambition to conquer the stars and the sea.
On this night, every bite of meat swallowed and every drop of ale drunk was transforming this army into an eternally immortal battle soul in Your Majesty's hands!
Sophia looked down at the red-faced soldiers holding hands and dancing a rugged folk dance, and tilted her head back to take a sip of ale.
No matter how one looked at it, this scene resembled a group of bandits entering the city. However, since they had won, they simply had to enjoy themselves for a bit.
As the bonfires of the Palace Square dyed half the sky red, and the singing and aroma of meat drifted towards the City wall along with the cold wind, the hundreds of Orr subjects suspended on the City wall were sinking into a desperate state of near-death.
Up on the City wall, the icy iron chains and rough hemp ropes had long since bitten into the flesh and blood of these subjects.
An old woman struggled to lift her eyelids. Looking at the brilliantly illuminated Palace in the distance, her cloudy eyes were filled with deathly stillness.
The young man beside her was sobbing softly, his voice long since hoarse.
"We're going to be killed... After those Masonites finish drinking, it will be our turn."
"Either we'll be thrown into the moat, or we'll just be hung here until we turn into dried corpses."
In their understanding, having served as the enemy country's shields, they were destined to be the sacrifices for the victors to vent their anger in this war. That rumored "Girl Tyrant" Sophia, who even killed her own father and annihilated entire families at the drop of a hat, would absolutely never let them go.
However, a burst of heavy and synchronized sounds of armor rubbing against each other shattered this death-like silence.
"Move faster! This knot is frozen solid, just cut it directly with a knife!"
Accompanied by a heroic and imposing shout, hundreds of Mason infantrymen charged up the City wall holding torches. The firelight illuminated those emaciated faces that lacked even the strength to beg for mercy.
Delilah had her long staff fastened at her waist, her fiery red long hair snapping in the wind. She personally stepped forward. With a flash of cold light from the short sword in her hand, she instantly severed the iron lock binding a young girl's wrists.
"Thud!"
The young girl fell into the snow and instinctively curled up into a ball, waiting for that fatal sword strike. But what fell was not a cold iron blade.
Delilah sheathed her sword and scanned this group of shivering, heavily scarred subjects in the cold wind. Her voice, amplified by magic, sounded extremely majestic and penetrating:
"Listen well! From this day forth, there is no longer a Kingdom of Orr on this land, only the territory of Mason—"
"Those who submit to Mason shall prosper, and those who oppose Mason shall perish!"
"Your false king has already been reduced to ashes. As for you all, Your Majesty is giving you an opportunity to choose—"
Delilah paused. A flash of imperceptible pity swept through her eyes before she said sternly:
"Do you choose to die in the dreams of the old era, or do you choose to kneel beneath the flag of the Black Rose and live like proper human beings?!"
Silence spread across the City wall.
A few seconds later, the old woman who originally thought she was bound to die was the first to struggle to her knees. She heavily kowtowed her forehead against the hard ice, her voice trembling yet high-pitched:
"Long live Your Majesty! Long live Your Majesty Sophia!"
"We... we want to live!"
Immediately after, those hundreds of survivors—who only had a single breath left due to the King of Orr's atrocities—followed their instincts and knelt down in droves. The sounds of crying and the gasps of surviving a disaster intertwined in the night.
Delilah looked at these subjects. Her originally hardened gaze abruptly paused when it swept across the strangulation marks on the children's wrists.
The subjects in this Royal City originally numbered in the thousands, yet half of them had been hung on the City wall by that maddened King and shot to death by arrows before the city was breached. The ones remaining had also grown weak to the extreme.
"Men," Delilah fell silent for an instant before turning her head and issuing orders. "Go to the main hall and fetch two carts of roasted ham meat, smoked sausages, and freshly baked white bread."
Two soldiers hesitated somewhat. "General, those are the victory celebration supplies for our brothers..."
"Your Majesty has said, since we are taking them in as our subjects, there is no reason to watch our own people starve to death in the snow." Delilah glared at them. "Go quickly!"
Before long, baskets of steaming white bread and neatly sliced smoked ham were placed before these subjects. That aroma was an extravagance they wouldn't have dared to even dream of in their entire lives.
At this time, Sophia was leading Willow, Irene, and the others past the corridor beneath the City wall. She merely cast a glance upwards through the endless wind and snow before gathering her black fox fur coat closer and boarding the carriage for the return trip with a composed expression.
She believed Delilah could handle this kind of trivial matter very well.
Those subjects cradled the pieces of pure white bread that still carried lingering warmth in their hands, and then looked at the slices of bright red, oily ham exuding a mesmerizing, savory aroma in their palms. They did not immediately gorge themselves; instead, they looked at each other, somewhat at a loss for what to do.
"Is this... really for us to eat?"
"Didn't they say Queen Sophia was that 'Tyrant' who kills without blinking an eye?"
"Why didn't she kill us, but instead gave us this premium meat that not even the King of Orr would bestow as a reward?"
A little girl carefully took a bite of the bread, and that sweet wheat aroma instantly made her burst into tears. At this moment, the fear regarding the "Tyrant" was being dismantled and reshaped bit by bit amidst that warm wheat aroma.
Inside the new Bedchamber, the firewood in the fireplace emitted soft crackling sounds, the firelight completely dispelling the chill in the room.
Sophia did not choose the Old King's deep palace filled with the smell of decaying medicine and an aura of conspiracies, but instead chose a large hall located on the east side, where the afterglow of the setting sun could spill across the window lattices.
At this moment, she was leaning languidly against the headboard of the bed. Her black fox fur was casually draped over her legs, and those pale golden eyes appeared exceptionally profound against the backdrop of the firelight.
Beside the bed stood her five trusted key ministers. Irene, Daphne, Delilah, Vasha, and Willow sat separately by her side.
They tacitly maintained their silence. Their gazes uniformly fell upon Sophia's face, waiting for this young girl—who had personally ended an era—to issue the first divine decree to rebuild Order.
Sophia took a sip of the warm tea handed to her by Willow. Her gaze swept past the curtain of snow outside the window, her voice cold and firm:
"Willow, transmit This Queen's decree. Starting today, draft a document to officially abolish the name of the 'Kingdom of Orr'. Every inch of soil on this land shall only be crowned with the surname of Mason from now on."
Willow swiftly unrolled a parchment scroll, the charcoal pencil dancing at her fingertips.
City of Hill: Formerly the Royal City of the Kingdom of Orr. Although this place was towering, it was isolated. From now on, it would no longer be the center of oppression, but the solid shield of Mason's Northern border.
Fishery Water Town: Formerly Bitter Water Town. Since the subjects there had suffered all year round, from now on they would make a living off that fishery, letting the word 'bitter' completely vanish from the map.
Roland Village: Formerly Arthur Village. Taken for its meaning of rebirth and bravery.
"Noted, Your Majesty." Willow responded softly, her fingertips trembling slightly.
She knew that these few simple names meant the destinies of tens of thousands of people were being rewritten.
Sophia turned her head to look at Delilah, her gaze sharpening:
"Delilah, tomorrow morning, take a squad of elites and search all over the City of Hill and all surrounding villages. Bring back everyone who is still struggling with illness, whether they are remnants of Orr or vagrants."
She paused, her gaze shifting to Daphne, who was boredly fiddling with her staff:
"Daphne, this will be your subsequent work. Use your Holy Light to completely cure them. Since we are annexing the territory, This Queen will absolutely not permit any seeds of epidemic disease to remain on this land."
"By the way, Delilah, I want a detailed population census. I want to know how many people can hold a hoe, and how many people can hold a gun."
"Accepting the decree!" Delilah stood up, pressing her hand against her sword, her eyes revealing an ultimate pursuit of efficiency.
Irene, who had been resting her chin in her hands in thought all this time, finally could no longer suppress her inner excitement. She twirled the ends of her twin-tails with her fingers, her eyes shining hotly:
"Your Majesty, although the City of Hill's infrastructure is old, its scale is second only to our Royal City. Moreover, serving as the throat leading to the coastal countries in the southeast, its strategic location is simply perfect!"
"However... this place is a long distance away from Mason Royal City, and the transmission of information is slow. Since we still need to digest that seafood heritage later, shouldn't we select a City Lord to temporarily manage this place on your behalf during normal times?"
Irene's words instantly made the air become delicate. Everyone's gazes gathered on Sophia once again.
Delilah was still contemplating the task Your Majesty had just given her. Your Majesty deliberately proposed treating the epidemics, but it was actually to bestow grace upon the people, allowing the City of Hill to submit completely in the shortest time possible. And this quota for the City Lord must definitely be Your Majesty's key move to balance the various factions!
Upon hearing this, Vasha didn't know why, but her heart suddenly started beating faster. The Royal City, no, the City of Hill... This is my place of nightmares.
Who will Your Majesty give this spot to? Is it to test my loyalty, or to thoroughly sever my ties with the past?
Sophia massaged her temples. Choosing a City Lord was indeed a matter where she needed to find a high-level corporate slave who could both handle pressure and be obedient.
Sophia lowered her eyelashes, her line of sight slightly losing focus within the dancing hearth fire, but the thoughts in her mind were like a precise, highly accurate instrument, completing the deconstruction and reorganization of the overall situation in a flash.
Appointing a City Lord was absolutely not done on a whim; this was an ultimate game concerning legitimacy and deterrence. Sophia's gaze swept past everyone in her peripheral vision.
Delilah was Mason's sharpest sword; she had to accompany her back to defend the Royal City and suppress those restless neighboring countries.
Irene was the spark of civilization; her battlefield was in the laboratory and workshop, not in trivial government affairs.
Daphne was her Saint, exclusive physician, and final line of defense; it was even more impossible for her to leave.
Although Willow seemingly only held the position of a maid, many matters could not be done without her; Sophia did not trust anyone else to handle them.
Only Vasha. In Sophia's eyes, Vasha was the optimal candidate to rule these ruins.
Firstly, identity itself was a declaration. Letting a Princess who had once been neglected and trampled upon by the Royal House of Orr set foot upon this throne once again was the most thorough execution by a thousand cuts for those old noble remnants, as well as the most intuitive comfort for the heavily bullied subjects.
Vasha's existence was the living sacrifice to the old era's destruction.
Secondly, it was the closed loop of survival logic. Vasha was more familiar with the shadows in this Palace than anyone else. Those venomous snakes attempting to hide in the dark and launch a counterattack could not deceive her, who had survived in these shadows for over a decade.
Letting the person who hated Orr's royal authority the most guard the City of Hill's Order—not only would she do it more meticulously than anyone else, she would also be more resolute than anyone else. This kind of loyalty rooted in the bone marrow was more solid than any reward.
Most importantly, Sophia favored Vasha's delicate and clear-headed inferiority complex. After receiving "Divine Miracle-like heavy responsibility", this inferiority complex would instantly transform into a near-sacrificial desire to serve.
Rather than dispatching an unfamiliar face who didn't understand the roots of this place to grope in the dark here, it was better to let this sharp blade familiar with the darkness guard this northern gate leading to the sea for This Queen.
In this instant, all the scales in Sophia's heart had already tilted. Not only was she going to give Vasha a position, she was going to give her the justifiable power to settle past scores.
Sophia's gaze crossed the dancing flames, ultimately resting on Vasha sitting at the very edge.
Compared to Irene's excitement and Delilah's composure, Vasha's state right now was more like a bowstring drawn taut to the extreme. Her hands were tightly intertwined, her fingertips turning white from exertion, and her downcast eyelashes cast a shadow of unease beneath her eyelids.
For Vasha, every brick and tile of this city recorded her lowliness, and every corridor had echoed with her terror.
"Vasha."
Sophia's voice was not loud, yet in this silent large hall, it precisely caught Vasha's breath. Vasha shuddered all over. She subconsciously stood up, bowing with somewhat stiff movements:
"This minister is present... What orders does Your Majesty have?"
Sophia shifted into a more comfortable posture, her fingertips lightly tapping the black fox fur on her lap, her tone as casual as if discussing what to eat for breakfast tomorrow:
"The City of Hill, I am entrusting to you. After This Queen returns to Mason Royal City, you will be the Acting City Lord here. Administration, city defense, and even those noble remnants who aren't quite dead yet, This Queen is granting you the authority to dispose of them."
As these words came out, the large hall plunged into a death-like silence. Vasha abruptly raised her head, those eyes—originally as cold and clear as a lake—filled with astonishment and panic.
Her lips trembled slightly, and her voice even carried a hint of a choke that she herself didn't notice:
"Your Majesty, are you saying, let me stay here? Manage... the City of Hill?"
In that instant, it was as if countless tangled threads had exploded in Vasha's mind. Why me? Could it be that because I bleed the blood of the Royal House of Orr, Your Majesty ultimately still cannot fully trust me, and wants to dispatch me far away to these ruins? Or is it that Your Majesty saw through my cowardice when facing this Palace, and wants to use this method to remind me that I can never escape the shadows of the past?
Various pessimistic and delicate suspicions crazily bred in Vasha's heart, until she met Sophia's pale golden, completely unrippled eyes. In those eyes, she did not see disgust, nor did she see exploitation; there was only a near-tolerant, matter-of-course trust.
"What, no confidence?" Sophia raised an eyebrow, her tone carrying a hint of subtle teasing.
"Irene is still busy going to study her ocean, and Delilah has to return to the Royal City to train those thousand howling soldiers. Daphne... if she doesn't follow me, I'm afraid she will turn this entire city into her Potion testing ground."
Sophia leaned her body slightly forward, her gaze looking straight at Vasha:
"This is the place where you lived for over a decade. No one is clearer on the directions of those secret passages than you, and no one knows better what those surviving subjects want than you. You are Orr's former Princess, but starting from today, you must be Mason's City Lord. Understand?"
Watching this scene from the side, Delilah's originally stern face revealed a flash of marvel. Your Majesty's move here had not only thoroughly won over Vasha's heart, it was an even more brilliant political game.
Letting the Princess who was once the most neglected and suffered the most in Orr rule these ruins was the best comfort for those heavily bullied remnants. And for those remaining old nobles, Vasha's existence was the most vicious slap in the face to them. Your Majesty was using Vasha's hatred to forge the most solid Order in the City of Hill. Truly worthy of being Your Majesty.
Victor was currently not in the hall. If he had heard this, he would probably be so excited right now that he'd be writing poetry on the walls.
Vasha looked at Sophia, looking at this Girl Tyrant whose age was even slightly younger than hers, yet who possessed the imposing aura to swallow mountains and rivers. She suddenly realized that what Sophia was giving her was not a position, but an opportunity to personally bury the past.
This cage that had once suffocated her had now become her territory. Those people who had once looked down on her and treated her as a vase had now become her prisoners. And what granted her all this power and confidence was merely because of this young girl before her saying: This Queen trusts you.
Vasha slowly walked out from her chair. This time, she did not perform a simple bow, but instead extremely solemnly knelt on both knees, pressing her forehead against the icy cold yet cleanly scrubbed floor tiles.
"This minister, Vasha, pledges loyalty to Your Majesty unto death."
Her voice had become much clearer and brighter. That melancholy that had lingered between her brows year-round seemed to be burned away at this moment by the firelight named 'heavy responsibility'.
"This minister will guard the City of Hill well, and guard Your Majesty's northern gate well. As long as this minister draws breath, every blade of grass and every tree here shall only belong to the Black Rose."
Sophia looked at Vasha kneeling on the ground—her shoulders twitching slightly yet her eyes resolute—and let out a breath of relief in her heart.
Done.
This child Vasha worked meticulously; entrusting this to her, she could be at ease for the time being. The City of Hill was neither too far nor too close to Mason Royal City. If any problems arose on Vasha's side later on, it wouldn't cause too much of a mess. After all, everyone else besides Vasha were Masonites.
If Vasha truly developed treasonous thoughts or the like later on, Sophia would also immediately learn of it from the mouths of others. In these times, there were far too many people who wanted to perform meritorious deeds. Once Vasha sat in this position, there would very quickly be people actively keeping an eye on her for Sophia.
"Mm. Does anyone else have any objections?" Sophia placed her gaze upon the other few people who had not yet expressed their stance.
Daphne and Willow both stated they had no objections whatsoever. Irene, however, said with a grinning smile:
"Yesterday Vasha's position was still lower than mine, and today she's directly been promoted to City Lord Vasha."
Hearing this, Vasha immediately responded: "No, no, Mason's Lord Chief Inventor is still much higher than me. I am merely a minor City Lord under Your Majesty's command, in one of the many future cities."
After Vasha's words fell, Sophia merely gave a single 'Mm' in response. However, this single sound was like a stone kicking up ripples in the hearts of the few people present.
Your Majesty did not refute it. She tacitly acknowledged that the future Mason would have many more cities added to it.
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