Chapter 685: Letter from Charlotte

April 20, 1734, according to the Human Common Calendar. On the frozen tundra, the Valeria Empire’s Expeditionary Army, having secured initial control of Coldwind City, faced off from a distance against the Church’s knightly order, which was reinforced by the formidable field magic of the City of Holy Light.

On the surface, the Empire’s expeditionary offensive appeared to have been temporarily halted by the Light Knights’ intervention.

Unable to advance for an extended period, the army seemed incapable of carrying out its intended strategy of descending from the high ground to strike directly at the royal capital.

But the reality was not so.

Setting aside the main forces facing each other head-on, along the flanks of the front line, due to last year’s failure in external wars, the Church knights’ living strength had failed to receive effective replenishment over the next half year.

Vast swathes of the kingdom’s territory that had not been sealed off by the Church of Light were steadily being dyed in the colors of the Valeria Empire.

With a personal letter provided by Duke Grant, arcane-powered machinery that armed soldiers to the teeth, and Charles’ outstanding command talent, the towns and cities, large and small, once belonging to the kingdom’s dukes on both the southern and northern wings organized no effective resistance.

Just like the southern cluster of towns once overseen by the Grand Duke’s Deputy, they chose to surrender at the mere whiff of danger.

From the grand map’s perspective, Duke Charles, one of the Empire’s four grand dukes, had, through a strategy of gradually nibbling, nearly swallowed the entire of Grant’s domain.

The latter’s remaining scraps of land were still controlled by the Church knightly order, usable only as marginal ground for obstructing the expeditionary army.

One step further, and these flank troops could join with the main force up front to encircle the Church knights, forcing them either to withdraw from the current region or to raise the holy sword and fight to the death.

Yet at this crucial moment, orders came instead from the Regent: the two wings were to hold their positions for the time being, no bloodshed, no engagements, wait and watch the battle’s changes.

This was completely at odds with the original plan for a swift victory.

Even more puzzling was the Church’s knightly order, which displayed a similar level of caution.

After concluding that Coldwind City could no longer be reclaimed, they remained stationed on the city’s outskirts without launching any meaningful offensive.

They rarely even dispatched reconnaissance patrols, almost as if they were deliberately yielding the initiative to the Empire.

The good news was that this brief ceasefire allowed the Valeria Empire to effectively make up for logistical shortcomings.

Through barter with nearby nobles, and a series of commercial activities such as purchasing grain from loose merchant groups, the expeditionary army, having taken cities yet lacking firm foundations, had more or less stabilized its footing.

Even if victory could not be decided for some time, they could rely on these controlled regions now incorporated into the Empire’s map to strike at neighboring countries at any time, after all, the Kingdom of Velys losing Coldwind City was tantamount to losing its gateway.

With the front door gone, wouldn’t outsiders come and go as they pleased?

Aside from the Church of Light, the Velys royal family’s own organized forces were also advancing toward Coldwind City.

Faced with a wave of assault that could mean national extinction, those lofty royals finally recognized the severity of the problem.

No longer did they have leisure to care about distant rebellions; they focus only on what lies before their eyes. They had to commit troops first, to avoid being rolled over in a single push by the expeditionary army, everything else could be discussed later.

Leading this contingent of the Royal Guard was the kingdom’s relatively capable Second Prince. Serving as his deputy was someone Lyra knew well: Princess Iris Kroyd, the formidable royal who had narrowly lost to her during the Magic Academy Exchange Tournament.

Back then, the two could still be considered to have sparred amicably on the stage, both holding to the elegant etiquette between knights.

Now, on the battlefield, cruelty had climbed several tiers; this was no longer the petty play-fighting of academy days.

April 26th, 1734. News reached the front that the plague in the kingdom’s west was becoming difficult to contain.

Not only did the troops under Iris begin to suffer morale decline, even the foremost Church knights, upon hearing it, showed wavering hearts and instability.

Many knights in the Church order had family in the kingdom’s west. Another portion had relatives in the central heartlands soon to be swept by the plague as well.

They had left home for this desolate, freezing land, first, their own life and death uncertain, the war unable to end in the short term, no idea when they could return; second, unable to personally care for their families.

Thinking that what they guarded behind them might already have withered away, how could their minds not be in turmoil?

Moreover, some rumor from who-knew-where spread through the army: that the Kingdom of Velys had violated the Lord’s will, misunderstood doctrine, and carried out slaughter arbitrarily, thus the Lord had sent down the plague as divine punishment to chastise them.

Think about it. Last year, the Valeria Empire also experienced a plague outbreak. However, for certain special reasons, the disease, which was nearly identical to the one now afflicting the kingdom, never spread extensively within the Empire. It was brought under control quickly and caused no widespread damage.

From some perspectives, that already said something.

Perhaps the Lord did not approve of what they were doing now.

...........

April 28th. Coldwind City.

After hearing the attendant’s report on infrastructure, and learning that the newly opened northern farmlands had sprouted under the careful cultivation of the logistics units, Astrid parted her soft lips and took a shallow sip of tea, fingers pressing lightly at her temples.

If it could sprout, it meant the soil was suitable for cultivation, the temperature relatively appropriate. Keep it up, and there was a high probability of harvesting grain.

This was the first experimental field cultivated in the extreme cold of the northern region. If it succeeds, the Valeria Empire’s grain shortage could be eased to a certain extent.

The next thing to focus on is how to reduce costs and increase efficiency.

That was the true, meaningful, enormous problem.

Astrid was thinking when a mature, black-haired beauty in a black-and-white maid dress and white thigh-high stockings walked slowly to her side.

"Miss, I’ve received a letter for you sent from the imperial capital..."

The head maid inclined slightly. As she refilled Astrid’s black tea, a strand of refreshing fragrance drifted from her hair and collar, cool, faintly minty, clean and crisp.

"...Along with the letter, there’s an attachment: a fire-element crystal stone, and several low-tier elemental rough embryos."

"The capital? Put it here."

Taking the envelope from Elise, Astrid gently broke the seal and drew out the parchment within. When she saw the neat, graceful line reading [To the Regent], her vivid crimson eyes rippled with a touch of tenderness.

In the blink of an eye, more than two months have passed since she and Lyra left Capital city.

On Amalia’s side, relying on official information channels, there was still serious lag in communications, but with the addition of some information-transmission cables, the efficiency of intelligence exchange between the imperial empress and the regent princess had greatly improved, indirectly increasing the frequency of their correspondence.

Beyond daily discussions of official matters, Astrid and Amalia would also chat appropriately about life: Astrid would ask how Amalia’s health was, whether she’d been eating and sleeping well, whether Auri had been picky lately.

Through written words, or dynamic images stored in crystal stones, she would comfort the little girl emperor far away in the Empire’s heartland, each time Astrid went out on official business, Amalia could only guard an empty chamber alone.

A white-stockinged girl bearing the weight of the crown had this as her greatest inconvenience: she couldn’t, like Lyra, remain at her beloved’s side at any time.

Virtual voices and text could only slightly ease the gloom in her heart; compared to past intimacy never a step apart, it was nothing at all.

One could foresee it: the next time Astrid returned to the capital, what was waiting for her would certainly be Amalia’s long-accumulated loneliness, wanting to pour it all out to her.

That said, Lyra was right beside her, visible every day. Amalia wrote back daily, not one letter fewer.

The one Astrid contacted least was, instead, her own aunt. Aside from a letter of safety sent when she first arrived in the north, she hadn’t really spoken much since.

At the first mention by the head maid that the attachment was a fire-element crystal stone, Astrid had guessed the sender was most likely Charlotte.

Now, seeing the familiar handwriting, the image of that mature beauty with black hair and tea-colored eyes surfaced again in her mind.

Most risk there has been new progress in crystal-stone research.

[My dear Astrid, may this letter find you well.]

Under the orange lamplight, the woman’s cool handwriting looked carved like a blade. Slightly glossy ink traces flowed quietly across the page, carrying a unique ink fragrance.

[The northern border is bitterly cold, and there is also the clash of arms between two nations. It has been a long time since I exchanged letters with Astrid; I truly worry. And I must thank Her Highness the Regent for being able, amid countless affairs, to spare a moment to read this family letter from afar.]

At this, Astrid’s lips curved slightly upward. She leaned back into her chair, and the hand that had been braced against the tabletop relaxed, resting at the top of her crossed leg. Pale fingers tapped against silk, leaving dark ripples along her soft thigh.

Perhaps because it had been such a long time since her last letter, Charlotte devoted considerable space to describing how the capital had changed.

She wrote about the widespread adoption of public arcane-powered machinery, the information transmission device, celebrated by bards as the "Voice Bestowed by the Sacred," becoming a fashionable novelty among the nobility, and how the newest class at Elizabeth Academy of Magic had developed an unusually strong interest in the study of arcane machinery.

[Some regard the Empire’s changes as the end of a long night, the single ray of light breaking through dim clouds, calling that a new era for humankind is about to arrive.]

[And Astrid Calliste, our most respected Regent is the explorer who pushed open that door of reform.]

As for the new Empress Amalia, people saw her more as a relatively excellent heir to the throne.

In terms of achievements and prestige, the still-young girl was far from reaching the late former emperor’s height, though this white-stockinged girl had successfully repelled Velys’s invasion and actively integrated the army to plan a counterattack, it could only be counted as a small step on the long road of governance.

The days ahead were still long, and challenges would only be more, not fewer.

Sensing her aunt’s desire to share, having no one to confide within the capital, pouring it all into paper, and looking at those warm, caring words, Astrid flipped the parchment over.

Perhaps due to an occupational habit retained through long years of teaching at Elizabeth Academy of Magic as a professor of spell-formations, Charlotte’s letter was divided into extremely clear sections: the front was private matters of affection; turning it over, only official business remains.

Reading carefully, the latter half fully recorded Charlotte’s optimization tests on various elemental crystal stones.

By modifying the output formation and adding elemental arrangement presets, the erudite Arcanist mage had further lowered energy loss by three percent, effectively extending the service life of a single crystal stone.

[I discussed all possibilities seriously with Mr. Anthony, and with that blue great dragon named Theresa. This is currently the best solution we can obtain. Below is the detailed three-dimensional pattern of the spell formation; Astrid may use it for reference. The attachments sent along with this letter also include a fire-element crystal stone already engraved with the corresponding formation.]

Picking up the magic crystal at her side, Astrid’s gaze fell upon the translucent red diamond structure. As she fed in spiritual power, Crimson light quietly flowed through her pupils.

Although only a three-percent difference, sounding like a drop in the bucket, at a time when research was nearly stagnant and theoretical magic studies were approaching saturation, such a breakthrough already proved Charlotte’s ability.

If it were Astrid herself, or Lyra, whose learning and experience were somewhat weaker, most likely they could not achieve this level.

Turning it in her palm for a while, understanding its subtlety, Astrid continued reading.

[After confirming that further research would be difficult to break through, we temporarily set aside the dissection and optimization of crystal stones’ internal structure, and instead verify the concept Astrid previously proposed.]

[Collecting inferior crystal cores produced by low-tier magical beasts, that is, the rough embryos of elemental crystal stones, attempting to seal them, and construct artificial elemental stones.]

Compared to crystal stones with relatively stable internal forms that could produce large amounts of elemental particles, inferior crystal cores, the moment they were removed from a beast’s corpse, would begin to leak elemental particles due to their unsealed shells.

This double trait, instability and easy dissipation, doomed their use to be narrow; they were basically unusable in ordinary forging or arcane-powered machinery.

[Our best attempt was: after releasing the mental power restraint, three minutes and twenty seconds later, the rough embryo collapsed unilaterally, and elemental particle leakage began to appear.]

[At present, it seems that with my level of magic, I am still far from being able to transform rough embryos into stable, reliable crystal stones.]

There was something Charlotte didn’t say outright. Coming from her own mouth, it might sound too arrogant, unfitting the identity of a seeker of knowledge, across the entire Valeria Empire, no one’s attainments in magical machinery surpass Charlotte’s.

Those stronger than her depleted her relevant professional knowledge reserves; those with sufficient knowledge reserved strengthen her magical realm.

In other words, if Charlotte couldn’t do it, then it meant truly it couldn’t be done, unless they could find and bring back the missing magical machinery master, Fanya.