The arrival of the Floating City plunged the garrison and officials of Marsel into unprecedented tension and panic.
This massive airborne fortress descended slowly over Marsel, casting a shadow over the entire city, like a giant beast overlooking its prey.
The residents of Marsel looked up in awe and unease.
The garrison and officials knew all too well what the arrival of the Floating City ant—the Empire's power was looming, and their "Independent Kingdom" was about to face a severe test.
Since the advent of the Doomsday Winter, Marsel, although nominally still part of the Victor Empire, had gradually slipped out of the Empire's control.
The extre cold weather severed most of Marsel's connections with the Empire's mainland, allowing officials and the garrison here to establish autonomy, enjoying almost dictatorial power.
They barely kept the city running through resource exchange with the Northern Territory, but deep down, they had long regarded Marsel as their personal domain, even fantasizing about one day breaking free from the Empire's shackles completely.
However, fantasy was one thing; truly rebelling against the Empire was another.
Despite the Doomsday Winter causing the Old World and other countries to suffer extre cold, the Victor Empire remained unshaken.
The colonies of the Northern Territory and the New Continent, and the Empire's powerful industrial base, allowed the Empire to maintain its strength in this global disaster.
The presence of the Floating Fleet and Steam Knights made any rebellious force daunting.
The officials and garrison officers in Marsel were fully aware that the Empire's power was beyond their capabilities to counteract.
Moreover, Marsel's survival during the Doomsday Winter largely depended on the resource exchange with the Northern Territory.
Once there was a complete break with the Empire, this lifeline would be cut, plunging Marsel into an even tougher situation.
Therefore, although they were dissatisfied with the Empire's control, the thought of betraying the Empire had never truly taken root in their minds.
And now, the arrival of the Floating City was undoubtedly a massive deterrent to them.
This colossal entity was not only a symbol of the Empire's might but also a silent threat.
Its presence seed to remind everyone in Marsel: the Empire is still strong, and any attempts to break free from its control will be t with ruthless punishnt.
The Floating City was capable of launching a devastating attack; its sheer size and weight alone, if it fell, were enough to flatten all of Marsel.
Facing such a threat, Marsel's officials and garrison officers had to put away their pride and luck, hastily organizing a welco.
Although they did not know that such a noble figure as Perfikot, the Empire's regent, was aboard the Floating City, they understood that those who could command the Floating City were by no ans ordinary.
Thus, they hurriedly tidied up their appearance, lining up to welco, fearing any negligence that might invite disaster.
The arrival of the Floating City was not only a deterrent to Marsel but also a reassertion of the Empire's authority.
It silently declared: no matter how the Doomsday Winter ravages, the Empire still controls this land, and any attempts to break free will et with rciless suppression.
Marsel's officials and garrison officers had long lined up at the city gate, their faces filled with nervousness and unease, with so constantly wiping the cold sweat off their foreheads.
Though they tried their best to stay calm, their slightly trembling hands and occasionally exchanged anxious glances exposed their inner turmoil.
The Governor of Marsel—a slightly chubby, stern-faced middle-aged man—adjusted his clothing, took a deep breath, and tried to appear more composed.
However, as he looked up at the majestic Floating City, his throat involuntarily tightened.
He whispered to the garrison commander beside him, "This ti, it's probably a big figure from the Empire; we can't afford any mistakes."
The commander nodded, his expression equally solemn, unconsciously pressing his hand against the sword at his waist, as if this would give him a sense of security.
An airship flew out from the Floating City, landing on the ground outside Marsel City.
As the hatch opened, Perfikot, draped in heavy luxurious robes and furs, stepped off the airship.
A troop of fully ard Steam Knights followed her, their tal armor gleaming coldly in the sunlight, each step resounding heavily, as if reminding the people of Marsel: the Empire's power is unmatched.
The Governor of Marsel and the garrison commander exchanged glances, feeling even more uneasy.
They did not know Perfikot, but from her attire and deanor, it was clear her status was extraordinary.
Just as they hesitated on how to address her, an attendant beside Perfikot stepped forward and announced loudly, "Under the protection of the Divine Father, the Saint, the Savior of the World, the One Who Sounds the Doomsday Bell, Regent of the Victor Empire, Explorer and Guardian of the Northern Territory, Ruler of the Entire Northern Territory, Protector of all Northern People, Revered Chieftain by the Northern Tribes, Builder of Chernobyl, Last Dragon Slayer, Slaughterer of the Evil God, Vice President of the Victor Empire Royal Academy of Sciences, Founder of the Northern Branch of the Royal Academy of Sciences, Honorary Grand Master of the White Bear Knight Order, Honorary Grand Master of the Iron Fire Knight Order, the Brightest Jewel of Langton, Conqueror of the Skies, Leader of the Era, Northern Expedition Count Perfikot Brandelis has arrived."
Upon hearing the word "Regent," the faces of the Governor of Marsel and the garrison commander turned pale, not to ntion the substantial weight of Perfikot's series of titles, which made their scalps tingle.
They never expected the Empire to send such a high-ranking and influential figure.
The Governor hurriedly stepped forward, bowing deeply, with a trace of tremor in his voice, "Esteed Regent, welco to Marsel. Your presence is our supre honor."
His tone was extrely respectful, even filled with humility.
The garrison commander followed suit, giving a standard military salute, his voice loud but unable to hide his nervousness, "The garrison of Marsel salutes you, Regent!"
Perfikot nodded slightly, her gaze sweeping coldly over the crowd, her tone calm yet undeniably authoritative, "The situation of Marsel, the Empire has always been concerned. Maintaining the operation of the city under the Doomsday Winter is no easy task."
Her voice carried no warmth, seemingly rely stating an insignificant fact.
The Governor responded quickly, with a hint of flattery in his tone, "Regent, your praise is too much. It is all thanks to the Empire! We have always rembered our duties, never daring to slack off in the slightest."
He said, casting a furtive glance at Perfikot's expression, trying to glean so information from her deanor, but her face remained cold as ice.
Her gaze swept over Marsel's city walls and streets, her tone cold yet carrying an indisputable command, "Lead the way. I need to see Marsel's current situation personally."
The Governor quickly nodded, stepping aside to make way, his tone anxious, "Yes, Regent! Please follow ; we have prepared a welcoming banquet in your honor, hoping you will grace us with your presence."
His voice carried a noticeable flattery, fearing any slip in his arrangents.
Perfikot did not respond, rely striding forward, her steps steady and indifferent.
Her Steam Knights followed closely, the sound of tal armor echoing on the silent streets, each step seemingly pounding the hearts of Marsel's officials and garrison officers.
The garrison commander whispered to the Governor, "This Regent seems hard to deal with." The Governor forced a smile, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, "More than just hard to deal with... her every word felt like a hamr on us. Moving forward, we must act cautiously and cannot let her catch any fault."
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