In a clearing within the Royal Palace, the ground, originally covered in snow, had been cleared to reveal a patch of mottled stone flooring.
Due to a secret order from Sophia, Victor had selected thirty of the most skilled and background-checked masons from the Royal City overnight.
These men and women, who usually built stone houses and repaired city walls in the Mason Royal City, were now standing in a trembling row, looking at the little girl with pink twin-tails before them with eyes full of awe and confusion.
In their view, although Miss Irene was a great inventor, shouldn't building houses rely on heavy stones and sticky yellow mud?
"Watch closely for This Lady!"
Irene had already changed out of her soot-stained work clothes and put on a crisp, tight-fitting linen short robe.
She held a trowel cast from raw iron in her hand. Before her lay a pile of dusty powder, a pile of fine sand, and a bucket of water.
"This stuff is called Cement. It is the cornerstone of the earth that This Lady personally refined. Many of our crafts later on will use this Cement; it's much more useful than that yellow mud."
Irene pointed at the pile of powder, her tone full of fanaticism.
"Its usage is simple, but the ratio must be precise! Three parts sand, one part gravel, one part Cement. Water must be added bit by bit, according to the quantity I stated. And it must be stirred until it hangs on the shovel like thick meat soup!"
The craftsmen looked at each other in dismay.
An older mason couldn't help but mutter in a low voice, "Lord Irene, can this lump of grey dust mixed with water really be more stable than yellow mud? Our houses in Mason always collapse because the mud isn't up to the task."
"Shut your mouth and just watch!"
Irene glared at him snappishly. She had already wasted so much time teaching these workers! Her orders for soap and shampoo from Leighton weren't finished yet! If this old thing said one more word, she would throw him out!
If not for the fact that she couldn't create clones, Irene would have wished to split herself into a hundred or eighty copies so she could handle the workload.
Her movements were practiced as she poured water into the pit and stirred frantically with a shovel. Soon, under the lubrication of the water, those dry powders turned into a fluid, dark grey paste.
Irene deftly spread the paste between two cracked stone slabs, then compacted and smoothed it with the trowel.
"Wait until the sun sets tomorrow, and this will be the hardest seam in the world. Unless you blast it with Thunder Weapons, it will remain an eternal whole!"
Sophia sat in a pavilion not far away, still holding the drink enhanced with magic sent by Daphne in her arms, leisurely observing this cross-era blue-collar skills training.
Although Irene's practical operation was average, her ability to instruct was indeed quite good.
Looking at the eyes of those masons, their expressions had already changed from 'are you kidding me' and 'what does this pink-haired little girl know' to 'witnessing Divine Miracles'.
Under Irene's command, the craftsmen began to attempt the operation.
"Heavens... is it actually this obedient?"
When the older mason personally smeared the viscous cement slurry into a crack in the City wall, he cried out in surprise.
This material was not loose like yellow mud, nor difficult to adhere like pure stone powder. It seemed to have a life of its own, drilling into every tiny gap, then rapidly becoming steady and tough in the air.
"This is not mortal soil! This is a holy object refined by Her Majesty from the depths of hell, capable of sealing cracks!"
"This kind of grey slurry can turn crushed stones into a solid mountain. Her Majesty must have felt that Mason's earth was too loose, so she bestowed this divine object to suture our homeland!"
Due to the limited production capacity of Cement at present, the clinker produced by the furnace daily was only enough to fill a few wooden barrels. Irene behaved extremely stingily, acting just like an old woman guarding a gold vault.
"Use it sparingly! The wall skin over there just has a crack; don't plaster it for me like a rising steamed bun!"
Irene patrolled back and forth on the construction site, her pink twin-tails swinging.
"Current production is only enough to repair the most critical places in the Palace!"
Under Sophia's personal supervision, the first batch of Cement was allocated to several locations.
Previously, the calves and piglets Hailey took care of lived in drafty stone-and-wood structures. Now, Irene ordered the masons to reinforce the foundations with Cement and seal the wall cracks deathly tight. This could not only prevent cold but also stop certain burrowing pests from infiltrating.
The West Tower laboratory was naturally allocated some. To prevent herself from sending the whole building into the sky during her next explosion, Irene specially used the thickest cement slurry to reinforce the load-bearing columns of the core experimental area.
There were also the steps of Your Majesty's Bedchamber. This was the project Sophia cared about most.
Because the previous stone steps were always slippery and oozed mud on rainy and snowy days, Sophia had Irene cover them with a layer of extremely smooth Cement.
"Finally, I don't have to worry about tracking mud back to the room on rainy days."
Sophia looked at that grey-white, smooth ground, feeling an unprecedented sense of healing in her heart. Although going back to the Bedchamber today would require a bit of effort to detour from the side, once this Cement dried, it would be much more comfortable.
Irene led a group of people in a mighty contingent to repair almost every place in the Palace that could be repaired. Subsequently, she left people to patrol the repaired areas, ensuring they absolutely must not be stepped on.
"Whoever steps on it once, then that piece of road will be repaired using them!" Irene said viciously.
Using such a pure little face to say such venomous words made everyone wonder if Your Majesty's previous Tyrant behavior had influenced Miss Irene.
Chancellor Victor stood behind Sophia, looking at the Palace inner courtyard that was originally dilapidated and full of the cracks of time. In just a few short days, it had become neat and solemn. Those patches of grey repairs revealed a kind of extremely tough beauty in the snow.
In addition to this, Sophia also ordered several workers to repair the border City walls. When she returned last time, she found there were already several holes in the border City walls. Never mind rats; it felt like even a few dogs could squeeze in.
"Your Majesty is reshaping Mason."
Victor took a deep breath of the cold air carrying the scent of fresh Cement, his heart surging like waves. Grain could fill stomachs, muskets could defend against enemies from the outside, but this Cement was intended to make the people of Mason stand in an invincible position forever.
Your Majesty not only mastered life and destruction but was now even creating eternity. As long as these grey stones did not fall, the Black Rose banner would never disappear from this land!
He bowed his head respectfully, looking at Sophia's cold profile, his tone carrying a trace of fanaticism, "Your Majesty, this humble minister has already drafted the plan. Once production increases next spring, we will prioritize building Cement avenues leading to every village. At that time, the entire Kingdom of Mason will be like this single monolithic rock, without any more cracks."
Sophia's pale golden pupils reflected that freshly smoothed cement floor, and she responded coolly, "Mn. If the roads are smooth, transporting wheat will also be faster. And houses... Hope the snow this year doesn't fall too heavily; otherwise, those houses built from dry hay, yellow mud, and stones will be crushed by the heavy snow."
The footsteps of Winter were far heavier than anticipated.
As the temperature plummeted below zero, the cloud layers above the Mason Royal City seemed to freeze together, presenting an oppressive lead-grey color. Fortunately, Irene's fiery and impatient personality had performed a meritorious service.
On the day before the severe cold completely locked down the earth, the last stone step in the Palace inner courtyard was also smeared with that layer of thick grey Cement. Now, this Cement had completely hardened in the biting cold air, like blocks of silent steel guarding the dignity of this ancient Palace.
Just as Sophia was curled up in thick fox fur, enjoying the stomach-warming hot drink specially made by Daphne and calculating the charcoal expenses for this winter, an urgent report from the border shattered the afternoon tranquility.
"Your Majesty, news came from the Falcon Pass border checkpoint."
Delilah walked quickly into the inner hall, the space between her brows carrying a murderous aura like unmelted frost.
"A large number of refugees are gathering outside our national border line, begging to enter Mason territory to beg for food. According to the garrison's statistics, the number has exceeded a hundred and is still constantly increasing."
Sophia put down the glass cup, her pale golden pupils slightly condensing. Over a hundred? In this season cold enough to freeze ears off, this bunch of people actually managed to cross the wasteland and run over here? It seemed the grain famine in the Kingdom of Orr and those few surrounding small states was even more tragic than anticipated.
According to the practices of the Old King or most monarchs on this continent, they would either let a portion in out of 'benevolence' to serve as cheap slaves, or shoot arrows to drive them away for fear of riots. But in Sophia's eyes, this was not just population; it was a gamble between risk and opportunity.
"Go take a look."
Sophia spat out three words coolly.
In just two hours, Delilah personally rode fast horses there and back. This red-haired Valkyrie, although still calm, revealed a trace of disgust in her eyes.
"Your Majesty, the situation is very complex."
Delilah knelt on one knee. "Those refugees are mostly the old, weak, sick, and disabled; they are indeed pitiable. But within the crowd, I discovered several fellows whose hands and feet were overly nimble and whose eyes were always scouting around. Although they wore tattered clothes, they had calluses on the webs of their thumbs from wielding swords for many years."
Spies? Sophia raised an eyebrow.
"Very likely," Delilah said, pressing on her sword hilt and frowning. "Mason's recent harvest Divine Miracles and Thunder Weapons have long since spread across the plains. Some old neighbors in neighboring countries can't sit still and want to take advantage of the refugee wave to bury nails inside. After all, our Mason's current core territory is only the palm-sized area of the Royal City, Withered Willow Town, and Kree Village. Once hundreds of people with impure motives mix in, it will be very easy to create chaos from the inside."
Sophia stood up, slowly walking to that window reinforced with Cement. Outside the window, a heavy snowfall was brewing.
Letting them in might be nurturing a tiger that would bring calamity. Keeping them out might waste free labor force sent to her door. Although This Queen wasn't playing the saint, she also couldn't bear to see perfectly good labor force freeze to death at the doorstep.
Suddenly, Sophia thought of the Ability form Daphne had filled out earlier, and a plan formed in her heart. Since you want to come in, you have to follow This Queen's rules.
"Transmit This Queen's secret order to the border garrison general."
Sophia turned around, her tone steady and decisive.
"Set up a temporary camp outside the pass. Aside from thin porridge and water, no one is permitted to step one foot across the national border line. Have Daphne send a few apprentices over to use that Saint Glory Magic capable of sensing emotions to assist with questioning. Anyone harboring evil designs or with dodging eyes is to be driven away on the spot; those who resist will be dealt with by muskets."
"Tell those refugees who pass the screening: Mason does not support idlers. If they want a full meal, go help Irene quarry stone, work, or clear the accumulated snow leading to the villages. This Queen gives them a chance to live; they must exchange their lives for Mason's bricks and stones."
Chancellor Victor listened from the side, sweating profusely, yet he couldn't help but frantically give a thumbs-up in his heart for Your Majesty's brilliant scheme.
Victor's insides churned. Your Majesty's move of pulling the firewood from under the cauldron is simply too absolute! Those refugees, receiving Your Majesty's porridge in despair, will inevitably be grateful. And through this high-pressure screening, not only can spies be weeded out, but a conditioned reflex can also be established among the refugees that only by obeying Your Majesty can they survive.
How was Your Majesty dealing with refugees? She was clearly conducting a large-scale brainwashing and incorporation! Those selected would become the most loyal and capable bottom-layer cornerstones of the Kingdom of Mason. Could this coldness and foresight of toying with human hearts in the palm of one's hand really be compared to those mediocre rulers who only knew how to shoot arrows?
Delilah also revealed heartfelt admiration. "Your Majesty is wise. I will lead the team to set off immediately and will definitely let those with ill intentions feel the chill of Mason before the heavy snow falls."
Sophia sat back on the reclining chair, watching the flames jumping in the fireplace. Hope Irene's cement factory can expand quickly. Since so many refugees want to come in, then just drag them all to repair roads. By the start of spring next year, This Queen wants to see a Cement avenue running through the entire territory.
"Victor, tell Willow and Vasha to calculate the accounts carefully. The aged grain consumed by those refugees must all be deducted from their future labor results. Here with This Queen... there is no free bread."
"Yes! Your Majesty is sagacious!"
Under Sophia's orders, everything proceeded methodically. Daphne was very happy knowing her Ability had a use again and quickly began preparations.
But Sophia, who was curled up in her blankets, had her drowsiness completely scattered by a piece of intelligence brought by Victor.
The King of Orr, the King of Qubi, and the lords of several surrounding duchies, due to the severe winter disaster this year, were all currently personally visiting the borders of their respective countries to inspect refugees, attempting to quell public anger and display so-called royal benevolence.
"Since they all went to put on a show, if This Queen shrinks inside the Palace, wouldn't it make Mason look like it has no face?"
Sophia gathered the thickened black fox fur around her body, her eyes revealing a chill from being woken up. Although deep in her heart she only wanted to be a quiet slacker, as a Tyrant, she would absolutely not allow herself to lose to that bunch of old foxes in terms of spectacle and deterrence.
Go, then!
The carriage drove steadily on the avenue still covered in accumulated snow. This was the artery leading directly from the Royal City to the border. Due to the plummeting temperature, the originally soft muddy ground had long since frozen into hard lumps like iron blocks. If it were an ordinary road and carriage, one would have long been bumped until they vomited their overnight meal.
But at this moment, Sophia's carriage had been improved by Irene and was much more comfortable. Sophia leaned against the specially made soft cushion, holding a white porcelain hand warmer in her arms, her pale golden pupils staring at the swaying water marks in her cup.
Daphne was nervously organizing her medicine chest, her emerald eyes containing both worry for the refugees and the apprehension of traveling far for the first time.
Delilah sat with her hand on her sword, her cold and severe face appearing exceptionally murderous under the reflection of the snow light outside the window.
Victor reported in a low voice on the side regarding the border material dispatch. Irene was not brought along this time; she had more important things to do. Moreover, the border was much more dangerous, and Sophia didn't want to bring Irene to take risks.
And Willow, who was always inseparable from Sophia, did not come this time either; the Palace needed her to stay behind. Not only did many things need calculating, but Vasha's side also needed someone watching. Before figuring her out completely, Sophia could not achieve complete trust.
"Your Majesty, the improved version of the carriage makes our speed many times faster than neighboring countries. More importantly..." Victor glanced out the window. "In this kind of extreme cold weather, our supply line remains as stable as a rock. Is this the mighty power of infrastructure you spoke of?"
When the convoy arrived at the border, that City wall, though not luxurious, stood immovable in the wind and snow. Sophia stepped down from the carriage, and a bone-piercing cold wind carrying snowflakes rushed toward her face.
Outside the City wall lay grey tents stretching as far as the eye could see; countless refugees curled up in the wind and snow. That was ultimate desolation. Every face presented a deathly grey color of malnutrition; skin was cracked from frostbite, and eyes revealed a numbness toward death.
The breathing of thousands converged into a patch of pale mist in the air.
However, behind Mason's border wall, Order was cold and efficient. More than a dozen huge raw iron pots were emitting scalding white smoke; the rich aroma of barley and bean porridge could be smelled from a hundred meters away.
Before receiving porridge, every refugee had to first drink a bowl of hot water with a little salt and Daphne's secret herbs added to prevent freezing to death and epidemics. If they didn't drink the secret medicinal water, that was fine too—then roll far away to die.
Under the gaze of the Black Rose Guard, the subjects maintained a near-eerie silence, lining up in a long dragon amidst the sky full of snow.
"They aren't even making noise," Daphne murmured softly, her eyes full of pity. "Is it because they are too hungry?"
"No," Delilah said coldly, pressing on her longsword. "It's because they know that on Mason's land, if they break the rules, they won't even be able to keep this bowl of hot porridge."
Daphne opened her mouth slightly, looked at the selfless Delilah, and nodded. What Delilah said made some sense. Daphne looked down at her hands, warning herself in her heart not to be too soft-hearted. Not everyone here was a very good person, so hurry up and put away that overflowing heart of pity, Daphne!
She was actually a bit afraid of Your Majesty, and also a bit afraid of Delilah, yet this time she came out with these two people. Glancing at the cold-faced Your Majesty, then at the frowning Delilah, Daphne shivered in the cold wind.
After cheering herself on, she soon threw herself into work. She stood on the high platform under the City wall, the emerald magic radiance appearing so holy in the gloomy twilight. Daphne looked solemnly at the coming and going refugees; although she couldn't cast mind-reading magic, she could know the other party's goodwill and malice through weak perception.
"Thank you, Queen of Mason, for giving porridge!"
Just as the refugees knelt one after another in gratitude, several sickly and weak refugees in the queue who had their heads lowered quietly exchanged glances.
In the instant Daphne lowered her head to hand water to an old woman, those few refugees abruptly threw open their tattered cloaks. In their hands were not empty bowls, but short blades coated with poisonous herbs and flashing with a gloomy blue cold light.
"For the glory of That Lord, kill the Witch of Mason!"
Three assassins sprang up like cheetahs, their speed shockingly fast. Using the cover of the refugees, they instantly closed the distance to Daphne, poison blades pointing straight at Daphne's fragile throat.
Daphne froze on the spot; she could even feel the bone-piercing chill coming from the blade tips. However, just as that short blade was about to touch her skin, a pitch-black figure blocked in front of her.
Bang—!
A deafening loud noise shattered the low murmur of the wind and snow. Sophia stood before the platform, unknown when she had arrived. Her hand, originally hanging low, was raised steadily. Under her cloak, a musket with a strange shape and gleaming with cold luster was spitting out orange-red tongues of fire.
A blood flower instantly bloomed in the center of the lead assassin's forehead. His whole person stagnated violently in the air, then planted heavily into the snow like a kite with a broken string.
Before the remaining two assassins could react, Sophia's wrist shook extremely slightly, her eyes remaining in that lazy and cold appearance.
Bang! Bang!
Another two calm and rhythmic roars.
The second assassin's chest was directly torn apart by the immense kinetic energy. The third assassin attempted to turn around but had his spine precisely shattered, screaming as he collapsed into the mud.
Sophia gracefully retracted her arm, a wisp of green smoke from the muzzle dissipating with the wind. Her pale golden pupils overlooked the common people beneath her feet. At that moment, she looked more like a God descending to the mortal world than Daphne behind her—only, she was a God in charge of death.
"Since you are so sick you can't even hold a knife steadily, then This Queen will help you find release."
Sophia's voice reached the ears of every terrified refugee, and also transmitted to those spies peeping from afar: "Mason can give charity in grain, but absolutely does not give charity in life. Wanting to move my people on my turf? This is the consequence."
Deathly silence reigned within the camp. Those refugees looked at the young girl holding the Fire of Thunder; the rumors about the Tyrant in their minds completely turned into some kind of absolute belief at this moment.
Wasn't it said that the Tyrant's Thunder Weapons take a long time to fire a single shot? Why is the one in the Tyrant's hand so fast? That is because this was personally made by Irene, so naturally, it is easier to use than ordinary muskets. However, because the materials and workmanship time were too complex, only two were made.
Victor lamented in his heart. Your Majesty's shot not only killed the assassins but also carved Mason's inviolable iron laws into the hearts of these thousands of refugees. This extreme balance of mercy and slaughter was the true essence of rule!
Daphne, on the other hand, was a bit shaken; she grabbed the corner of Sophia's clothes, her eyes red. "Your Majesty, you clearly didn't have to come personally..."
She scolded herself angrily a few times in her mind; she couldn't be so careless anymore. Clearly having been locked up for so long, yet she still didn't learn her lesson. Daphne somewhat hated her own spirit that could be easily lifted and confidence that could be regained too quickly. These always made her forget how painful it was when she got hurt, even though she had suffered so many losses.
Sophia looked at Daphne with red eyes and sighed. Nonsense, if I didn't come personally and you got stabbed, who would cook that delicious magic milk tea for me? Where would I find another top-tier healer! Besides, this gun's recoil is still a bit strong; my shoulder hurts.
Sophia rubbed her sore wrist and turned to order Delilah:
"Clean up the garbage. For the rest, after finishing the porridge, take them to do the entry test according to the rules. This Queen's cement factory is just lacking manpower."
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