Several days later, at the Blackrock Fortress Morning Prayer Square:
Linde stood on the makeshift platform, below him a dense crowd of leaders and representatives who had been summoned.
The winter sun shone warmly on the "divinely blessed land" at the edge of the square, which remained tender and green despite the cold wind.
Linde's voice, amplified by a simple sound-amplifying array, resonated clearly throughout the square:
"...The grace of the Lord of the Light Veins has never been far away! He gives us life in the cold winter (pointing to the oasis), and even more so, He gives us the sacred mission of protecting our home and creating the future!"
"I, Lind Truk, by divine decree, will forge an unprecedented 'Guardian Icon'! It will be a monument to our faith, an eternal shield and sword for Blackrock Territory!"
"However, the creation of miracles requires the piety and dedication of mortals! It requires every hand and every drop of sweat from the Black Rock Territory!"
"From this day forward! The mines of our territory shall burn day and night! The furnaces of our workshops shall never be extinguished! We need more ore, finer steel, and more devoted labor!"
"Those who participate in this sacred project will have their taxes reduced! Those who make outstanding contributions will be rewarded with land! Your contributions will be remembered on the foundation stone of the holy icon, coexisting with Blackrock Territory and receiving the Lord's glory!"
"For our homeland! For the future! For the glory of the Lord of the Light Veins!"
Linde's words cleverly utilized the prestige of the "land favored by the gods" and the piety of the people to package the massive resource gathering and manpower mobilization required to repair the Iron Sky into a noble and sacred collective mission.
Watching the people below the stage gradually transform from initial bewilderment to ignited religious fervor and hope for the future (especially the promises of land and tax cuts), Linde knew that this difficult first step had been taken.
Meanwhile, high in the castle, Alice and Della were arguing heatedly over a list of metals shimmering with an unusual luster and complex blueprints for energy circuits; deep within the mines, with the help of Weeks and his rock-armored rhinoceros, exploration of new veins was in full swing; in the mountain pass economic zone, a caravan from the orc tribe brought the first batch of special crystals marked on the list, shimmering with an eerie light…
After a brief rest, the war machine of Blackrock Territory has started up again.
…………
A few days later.
Linde returned to the warm lord's study in Blackrock Keep. The fatigue from days of travel and the immense impact of the Steel Sky washed over him like a tidal wave.
He practically collapsed into the large leather sofa, letting out a satisfied sigh.
"It seems our lord is exhausted."
Nazila's languid voice, tinged with laughter, came from the doorway.
She approached lightly, her silver hair flowing warmly in the fireplace light.
Her belly was already slightly protruding, and her movements carried a maternal elegance and composure.
She naturally sat down next to Linde, her soft fingers applying just the right amount of pressure to massage his tense temples and stiff shoulders and neck.
Linde closed his eyes, the unique fragrance of Nazira, a blend of wildness and gentleness, lingering around his nose. His tense nerves gradually relaxed under his lover's tender caresses.
He took one of her hands in his own, gently stroking the back of her hand, enjoying this rare moment of peace and tenderness.
I'm sorry to have worried you.
Linde's voice was hoarse and tired.
"Good to know."
Nazla playfully pinched his shoulder, but with a gentler touch. "You're going to be a father now. You can't keep working yourself to the bone like you used to."
A smile played on Linde's lips as he opened his eyes, his purple pupils reflecting Nazla's concerned face.
He reached out and carefully placed his hand on her slightly protruding belly, feeling the miracle of life growing there.
"Yes, I know," he murmured, a warm feeling welling up inside him.
At this tender moment, there was a gentle knock on the study door.
"Sir, we have a visitor."
The voice of a guard came from outside the door.
Linde frowned slightly, somewhat displeased at being disturbed.
Nazla also stopped what she was doing, raising her eyebrows slightly.
"Who is it?" Linde asked in a deep voice.
"My lord, it is a group of people claiming to be from the Royal Academy of Magecraft of the Kree. Their leader is named Carthus, a high-ranking mage. They request an audience with you, saying... they have important business to discuss."
The guard answered respectfully.
"The Royal Academy of Mages?"
The weariness in Linde's eyes was instantly replaced by sharpness.
He quickly searched his memory, and apart from the fact that Alice was the daughter of the dean, he had almost no connection with the kingdom's highest magic academy.
Why would they suddenly come knocking on our door?
Nazla sat up straight, a hint of wariness flashing in her amethyst eyes:
"People from the academy? What are they doing in this remote place?"
"I don't know."
Linde shook his head and gently patted the back of Nazla's hand to reassure her.
He stood up, and although he was physically exhausted, his lordly aura instantly returned.
He bent down and, without saying a word, scooped Nazla up in his arms.
Hey! What are you doing?!
Nazla gasped and instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck.
"I'll take you back to your room to rest."
Linde said without room for argument, striding towards Nazla's bedroom, "Your most important thing now is to rest and recover. Leave these trivial matters to me."
Nazla nestled in his arms, feeling the gentle yet firm touch of his movements. A sweet warmth filled her heart, and she stopped struggling, only murmuring softly:
"That's really domineering."
After settling Nazra in, Lind quickly tidied himself up, changed into a dignified dark purple lord's uniform, and replaced the fatigue on his face with composure.
He arrived at the castle's reception room, where Carthus and his party had been led to wait.
The reception room was simply and elegantly furnished, with a burning fireplace that dispelled the winter chill.
As Linde entered, his gaze quickly swept over the visitors. There were five of them, all wearing the Royal Academy of Wizardry's signature dark blue robes with silver trim.
The middle-aged man at the head of the group was tall and thin, with a face that carried the unique slenderness of a mage and a hint of barely perceptible arrogance. His eyes were sharp; it was none other than Carthus.
He was followed by three men and one woman, who all appeared to be his students or assistants, and their expressions also carried an academic air of reserve.
“Lord Linde, I apologize for disturbing you.”
When Carthus saw Lind, he nodded slightly and performed a standard mage salute. The movements were proper but somewhat rigid, and his tone also conveyed a formulaic detachment.
He didn't waste time with pleasantries and went straight to the point:
"We have come here hoping to meet the monks of your territory."
Linde sat down in the main seat, his posture relaxed yet dignified.
He picked up the hot tea served by the servant, blew on it gently, and his gaze fell on Carthus with a hint of amusement.
Such a direct, even somewhat rude, request, combined with the other party's subtle air of superiority, made Lin De scoff inwardly:
Another guy who's been raised in an ivory tower and doesn't know his place.
"A mage?"
Linde slowly sipped his tea, put down the teacup, and casually traced a smooth arc in the air with his fingertips.
In an instant, a clear ball of water condensed out of thin air and floated above his palm, rippling slightly with light, and the pure aura of water element spread out—a standard and stable water creation technique.
"Is this what the mage Carthus was referring to?"
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