Chapter 605: Exchange Agreement

After that came a long silence.

Anna’s eyes weren’t as calm as he’d imagined. In the silent confrontation, under the azure lake, an undercurrent surged. There was worry, there was fear, but more than anything, there was resolve—it was precisely because of this that her expression could be so firm.

As time quietly flowed by, this feeling became increasingly intense.

Roland finally realized that he probably wouldn’t be able to convince her.

He closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

“Alright, but you have to promise me one thing.”

“Say it.”

“Don’t go to the front lines, you must stay in the rear.”

“Agreed.”

“If something unexpected happens on the battlefield…” Roland licked his lips, “I mean, if by any chance, I…”

“If that kind of thing really happens, I will leave the Northern Region immediately,” Anna said bluntly.

Roland couldn’t help but be stunned.

“Are you worried that I’ll seek revenge against the Church and end up throwing my life away?” She caressed his cheek. “Only Nightingale and Ashes would do something like that. I will return to the Western Region as soon as possible, and then take all those who are willing to follow you to Sleeping Island, take root there, and continue to fight against the Holy City. Your Majesty, although I would very much like to be with you, I know you would never want to see that happen.” At this point, she paused. “So I can promise you that before the world you want arrives, I will continue to walk in your place until witches and ordinary people can live together freely.”

He didn’t answer, nor did he need to… Anna’s growth exceeded his imagination, and this was already the best reward for him coming to this world.

She reached out and unbuttoned Roland’s shirt.

Everything no longer needed to be said.

The two embraced and fell onto the bed.

Blackfire lowered the curtains, pushed the clothes and bedding aside, and fate was firmly connected at this moment, witnessed by the starry sky.

...

Two days later, Roland gave his final speech on the square before the expedition.

The people who had come upon hearing the news crowded the square until it was completely packed. After a year and a half of development, the old Border Town no longer existed. In its place was the prosperous and bustling Neverwinter City, the people's lives had undergone earth-shattering changes, and Roland's prestige had also risen to an unprecedented height.

“My people, good morning,” he said as he stepped onto the podium, and was immediately greeted by an overwhelming roar of cheers.

“Long live the King!”

“Long live His Majesty Roland!”

Without the need for a call and response, or any encouragement, people spontaneously and enthusiastically issued respectful calls, their waving hands like a surging ocean.

It wasn’t until a full quarter of an hour later that the sound gradually subsided.

“You should already know,” Roland said in a deep voice, looking around at the countless pairs of adoring eyes below the stage, “The kingdom will face a defensive war against invaders, the enemy being the Hermes Holy City that has annexed Eternal Winter and Wolfheart! Now only Graycastle and Dawn remain of the Four Kingdoms, and now, their target has turned towards us!”

“I know some of you once believed in the gods, believed in the Church, and that is not shameful! Your kindness was exploited, your expectations were deceived. Should I not blame the liars and robbers, but instead blame you, the victims? Of course not!” He raised his fist. “It is the Church that should pay the price for this! Just in selling God’s Punishment Stones, they earn hundreds of thousands of gold royals every year—and this money should belong to you!”

“Why? The reason is very simple. The nobles are unwilling to spend an extra hefty fee to buy the Godstones, so they naturally transfer this expense to the people, increasing taxes, increasing tributes, confiscating, and seizing—that is the reason! And it’s far more than just the Godstone. Building churches, stationing priests, holy water baptisms, I believe you are no strangers to these mandatory levies!”

What the people could understand most easily, and what they hated most, was certainly exploitation and oppression. The Church's methods weren’t as blatant as the nobles, but in the eyes of the battle-hardened Roland, tearing through this thin layer of fig leaf was effortless, and incidentally throwing a few buckets of dirty water was also easy.

“The Church promises that this money will be exchanged for the protection of the gods, but what is the result? Before I came to the town, people were always unable to eat their fill and keep warm. Famine and cold would still arrive as scheduled every Devil’s Month. Those who couldn’t survive would close their eyes forever. As for those who survived… was it really because of the Church or the help of the gods? No, they did nothing!” Roland suddenly raised his voice. “The only thing they are interested in is sucking your blood dry!”

For these things, the local residents clearly remembered, and the refugees from other cities had mostly experienced the same encounters. Angry clamor erupted in the square, and everyone attributed the pain they had suffered in the past to the Church.

“So I will never surrender, and I will never lose to such bloodsuckers!” Roland waved his fist and shouted. “The First Army will crush them into powder, and no one will dare to plunder my people again. You don’t have to worry about paying money to build churches or redeem your sins, because these damn taxes will disappear completely in the face of the newborn Kingdom of Graycastle!”

“The facts have proven that without the Church, Neverwinter City will become better, and so will other cities!”

“What has created all this is your hands, your spirit, not those illusory things. That is why I repeatedly emphasize the glory of labor. Only labor can create wealth, and you are the incomparably glorious laborers. Be proud of this, without you, there would be no prosperity of Neverwinter City today!”

He pressed his hands down, stopping the people's calls, “So the First Army is departing. They will go to the Northern Region and fight the Church that is eyeing all of this. If we lose, we will lose everything we have and return to the impoverished and difficult days of the past… Tell me loudly, are you willing to return to the past?”

The answer was self-evident.

“No, Your Majesty, we will fight the Church to the end!”

“Kill them all!”

“Drive them out of Graycastle!”

“Swear to defend His Majesty Roland to the death!”

The answers below the stage were varied, but everyone’s expressions were exceptionally consistent—they were willing to defend all this hard-won prosperity.

“Well said, I don’t need you to go to the battlefield to kill the enemy, that is the responsibility of the First Army, and you don’t have to pay extra war taxes, that is what the enemy does. You only need to continue to devote yourselves to the construction and production of Neverwinter City as before, and that is the best help for your loved ones fighting on the front lines.” Roland placed his right hand on his chest, then gave a military salute, “We will surely be victorious! Long live the Kingdom of Graycastle!”

“Victory!”

“Long live!”

The people repeatedly chanted these two words, and they continued long after Roland left.

That afternoon, the last batch of soldiers boarded the paddle steamer. The army, with the Roland as its flagship, sounded its horn and set off.

Target—Vale Town!