The dawn light revealed rain-drenched crimson blossoms, their weight bending the branches throughout Argenthaven.
The Western Vale, a fertile paradise, was nourished by an extensive network of canals feeding endless fields, all protected by the formidable mountains.
With clear governance, sound administration, and the capacity to raise armies and stockpile grain, it possessed the strength to challenge the greatest powers under heaven.
Even without expansionist ambitions, simply by holding its strategic passes, one could rule securely as a sovereign lord, sleeping soundly.
The Governor of this Western Vale was the legendary Lord Sylas.
Though of delicate constitution, the local people respected and praised him without exception.
For after His Lordship entered Argenthaven with his troops, he reorganized the monastic orders, distributed farmland, and lightened corvée labor and taxes.
The long-dormant fertile land finally burst with unprecedented vitality.
In just two short years, Sylas had firmly established his power in The Western Vale.
The treacherous roads gradually isolated him from Ironpeak, and he began operating almost as an independent king.
The world was undergoing dramatic changes. Mirabel, the Empress of Stonewold, had regained power.
To prevent being sidelined by Chancellor Gwendolyn again, she created a new position: Chancellor of the Left.
This Chancellor of the Left was an acquaintance: Victoria, whom Aethelred had cast aside.
Meanwhile, Isolde, the Empress of Aethelred, seemed to have lost her former ambition, content to raise her child peacefully in Lorynth, perhaps biding her time.
The affairs of Stonewold and Aethelred were relatively stable. Only Wealdham was in utter chaos.
Since Seraphina seized the throne, Sylas had taken the opportunity to move south and capture the western regions.
Losing territory naturally further eroded Seraphina's prestige.
Lords across Wealdham began declaring themselves independent, rivaling the imperial court in Argenthaven.
Amid the great disorder, common people were displaced, many flooding into the western regions, which conveniently swelled Sylas's forces.
His power grew exponentially; he now had troops, generals, and a respected position. He had finally found stability.
Yet, after his work was done, the Governor would often fall into an inexplicable melancholy, finding a place to grieve secretly. Luna and Fomalhaut found this perplexing.
They gradually came to understand that the Governor missed his daughter, Selene.
"But... the young mistress is in Lorynth. How can we ease His Lordship's worries?" Fomalhaut wagged her dog tail, asking helplessly.
Luna tapped her on the head. "Silly, do you really want him to find his daughter? If he does, will our peaceful days continue?"
"Then what should we do? Just watch His Lordship be unhappy?" Fomalhaut, being a dog-girl, was fiercely loyal and couldn't bear to see her master sad.
"Are you stupid? We can just have one with him!" Luna said, rather excitedly.
"This..." Fomalhaut's eyes widened in shock.
She quickly shook her head. "No, no! His Lordship's constitution is so weak. Going through that again might kill him!"
Luna smiled mysteriously. "Can that really stump us ? Don't worry, I've prepared an array. By tomorrow morning, the situation will be very different!"
Fomalhaut: "Uh..."
She looked at her somewhat crazed senior sister, then thought of her master's pitiful state. Her heart ached.
But in the end, she said nothing and left, disheartened.
Wandering around, she arrived at the Governor's mansion gate and saw a carriage preparing to leave.
Fomalhaut hurried over and asked the driver, "Is that His Lordship?"
Before the driver could reply, the carriage curtain was lifted, revealing a handsome, aloof young master inside.
Seeing Fomalhaut, he smiled. "Boney, not off causing trouble with your senior sister?"
In her beast form, Fomalhaut loved chewing on ox bones, hence the nickname "Boney"—mainly because "Fomalhaut" was a mouthful.
Seeing her master, Fomalhaut happily jumped onto the carriage, nuzzling incessantly into the crook of Sylas's arm, her tail wagging furiously.
Sylas rubbed her head. "I'm going for a ride around the city. Want to come?"
"Woof..."
"Oh, you're in human form now, how can you still bark like a puppy?"
Sylas made her sit properly, and the driver urged the carriage onto the street.
The city was now a tapestry of prosperity, the people living in peace and contentment, a far cry from the miserable scene of two years prior.
Seeing such peace, Sylas felt a surge of pride. This was his masterpiece, the prosperity he had built with his own hands.
"Young Master..." Fomalhaut, seeing him lost in thought, called out softly.
"Hmm? What is it?" Sylas asked, returning to the present.
"It's... it's nothing." Fomalhaut seemed downcast. She didn't know if she should tell the Young Master about Luna's abnormal behavior.
Sylas gave an indulgent smile. Fomalhaut was young and especially adorable. For a moment, he was reminded of his sister, far away.
Just then, a commotion arose outside. Sylas lifted the curtain to see a beggar woman who had collapsed on the roadside.
A crowd gathered, some offering food. It was rare to see a beggar in The Western Vale under Sylas's governance.
Seeing this, Sylas frowned. He had just been contemplating the brilliant prosperity; this was a slap in the face.
"Bring her back. Find out what happened," he said calmly. "It seems I've been neglecting the people lately, if someone is fainting from hunger. We must get to the bottom of this!"
Fomalhaut replied, "As you command."
She got out and helped the beggar up. Upon touching the woman's arm, she noticed the body was quite soft. Beneath the dirty clothes, there was a trace of an expensive fragrance.
Fomalhaut's acute sense of smell found it strange, but she dismissed it, thinking some people naturally smelled pleasant.
She brought the beggar back to the Governor's mansion. Sylas instructed the spirit girls to investigate.
After dealing with other matters, he went alone to where the beggar was being housed. The woman's mental state was poor, confined to a small room.
Sylas dismissed everyone at the door. He entered and asked seriously, "What is your name? What hardship have you encountered? Tell me. I am the Governor of The Western Vale. I will see justice done for you."
"I... I..." The beggar woman curled up in the corner, trembling incessantly.
Sylas softened his tone. "Don't be afraid. Just speak slowly."
"My name is..." the woman mumbled.
Sylas didn't catch it. He leaned closer to listen.
"My name is... Isolde."
Before Sylas could react, she suddenly clamped a hand over his mouth.
P.S.: This chapter starts with a fantasy line, which is already illogical.