Once the drama master had taken his leave, Barov immediately rushed forward, his eagerness and regret overflowing, "Your Majesty, why didn't you agree to his request? He's practically synonymous with Graycastle drama! Other troupes would kill to have him! I'm not saying the Star Flower Troupe is bad, but in terms of fame, Miss Mei is still a bit lacking. If Kajin. Fiss joined, Star Flower would undoubtedly be the kingdom's top troupe! Even if he knows nothing about shadow plays, Kajin's name alone would attract a large group of actors, and the troupe wouldn't have to worry about a shortage of manpower!"

Roland glared at him, "Haven't you heard that things that are too easily obtained are rarely treasured?"

"Uh..." The old butler was stunned. "Forgive my ignorance, who said that, or which book?"

"I said it." Roland pretended to be serious. "It's human nature, understand? He's already attracted to shadow plays, and he'll stay in Neverwinter no matter what. In that case, a slightly difficult assessment and a direct acceptance will impress him even more. He might even be grateful for the opportunity I've given him. Otherwise, he'll take it all for granted. That's the difference."

He paused slightly, "Besides, Mei can only be called a disciple in front of Kajin. A Star Flower Troupe with a drama master can't still be called Star Flower. Participating in shadow play filming is fine, but joining is out of the question. Having him outside the troupe can also give those younger actors some pressure."

"You... have a point." Barov hesitated. "But the mission to Wolfheart..."

"There's nothing 'but' about it," Roland interrupted directly. "It's his own choice. I also want to see what kind of drama Kajin can create, having gone to such lengths. Speaking of which, you have time to worry about others, have you finished the statistics I assigned you? If not, get to it!"

"Yes, Your Majesty... I take my leave!" Barov quickly bowed and turned to leave the audience hall.

"You really are becoming more and more like a king, Wimbledon," Nightingale said, appearing from behind, her eyes slightly narrowed.

"Ahahaha... you flatter me," Roland felt a faint sense of foreboding in his heart. He hadn't heard her use such formal language in a long time. "With our relationship, you don't need to use such a formal title..."

"But I feel like being too close isn't a good thing, is it?" Nightingale said, crossing her arms. "'Things that are too easily obtained are rarely treasured,' so that's what you think. Looks like I need to be careful not to be too nice to you. I also need to remind Anna not to let someone get too cocky."

Roland felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. "Uh, that... that... people are people, shadow plays are shadow plays, the two aren't the same thing! And I wasn't the first one to say that!"

"But you agree with it," Nightingale said with a snort. "The magic in my chest tells me there's at least a 55% probability of truth."

Her ability to detect lies can now be accurate to one decimal place? Roland wiped his forehead. Wait... chest? He remembered Agatha saying that a witch's magic, while appearing as a vortex under observation, isn't a physical entity and doesn't truly gather in one place, but flows throughout the body.

"Did you really use your ability just now?" Roland questioned.

"Pfft," Nightingale laughed. "Looks like you caught me. But you did say those words yourself. If the other sisters heard, wouldn't they also feel like they're being taken 'for granted'?"

"Five bottles of Chaos Drink." Roland launched a bribery strategy.

"Ten bottles, each with a different flavor." Nightingale licked her lips.

"Too many will make others suspicious..."

"Suspicious of what?"

"Uh, I mean it'll make people feel like it's unfair."

"Don't worry, no one can find what I want to hide."

"Eight bottles then, if it's too easy to get, it'll..."

"Hmm?"

"No, nothing, I'll think about it..."

...

In the end, Roland, at the cost of ten bottles of Chaos Drink,

Signed this "unequal treaty."

Watching Nightingale walk away with a triumphant look on her face, munching on dried fish, he shook his head with a wry smile.

By evening, Barov had compiled a list of all the visitors. "I checked the family records and transfer agreements with Miss Scroll. Following the principle of prioritizing the former, we've determined the first batch of people to go to Fertile Plains, a total of over 1,600 people." He reported over the phone, "The related visitation plan is also being developed. If all goes well, they can leave in two days."

"Very good," Roland felt sincerely satisfied with the administrative hall's efficiency, befitting the chief minister he had personally trained. "Implement it as soon as possible."

"Yes! However, Your Majesty, one of the workers registered as a transferee is a witch."

"A witch?" He raised an eyebrow.

"That's right. The worker's name is Snakefang, from Longsong District, originally a Black Street rat; the witch is Bai Zhi xiaojie."

Bai Zhi? Roland suddenly remembered, when Peyro brought her over, he did mention her identity, as well as a small conflict he happened to witness. Could this person be her former companion?

"Should we ignore it?" Perhaps because he hadn't spoken for a while, Barov asked proactively, "After all, Bai Zhi xiaojie has completely separated from her past life."

Roland stopped his thoughts. "Of course not. She said goodbye to her life as a rat, not to her former companions. Don't forget, the key to fundamentally eliminating rats lies in reforming them. Regardless of their former identity, they shouldn't be treated differently."

A former Black Street rat, now a frontier worker... He slightly raised the corners of his mouth. In terms of time, the two had been separated for almost two years, and they probably didn't even know what the other had become. Even so, the companion still wrote down the other's name on the transfer agreement. That kind of feeling was really not bad.

"I'll notify Bai Zhi," Roland finally instructed. "Implement the rest according to the plan."

"As you wish, Your Majesty."

*******************

A vacant lot southwest of Tower One Station, the First Army was holding a simple funeral.

Nearly three hundred white tombstones stood neatly in the verdant grassland, appearing solemn and orderly. Although there was nothing buried under the tombstones, everyone stood solemnly, as if their deceased comrades stood before them.

"Here sleep the brave who sacrificed their lives to defend Tower One Station."

"Faced with cruel and terrifying enemies, they did not retreat a single step."

"Because they knew that Graycastle was behind them."

"They are both His Majesty's sword and the high wall of the Kingdom's people."

"Their names will be forever remembered by us."

"Their will shall also be inherited by us."

"For His Majesty the King, for the Kingdom of Graycastle."

"Salute!"

Under Iron Axe's lead, everyone raised their right hands in unison, offering a military salute as a farewell.

Lightning quietly landed on top of a barracks.

In the front row of the crowd, she saw a familiar figure.

The driver of the Black River.