Raymont pondered for a mont, and an entire map of the Empire unfolded in his mind.
If the Northern Territory completely fell into Louis’s hands, Gray Rock’s trade routes and mining lines would be at his rcy.
"We cannot let him expand too quickly. Let him gain confidence first, then let him beco unbalanced."
Raymont quickly sketched a frawork in his mind, using trade and alliance to restrain Red Tide. Once the Northern Territory’s resources flowed to Gray Rock, he would tighten financial support in the na of the Imperial Capital.
If that Red Tide Lord truly wanted to continue expanding, Gray Rock would secretly support a righteous correction, letting the young man face reality.
Raymont exhaled softly and turned to pick up his coat.
"Go tell the butler," he said blandly, "I won’t be returning for the charity banquet, just say it’s official business."
A reply ca from outside, the butler’s voice steady and respectful: "Yes, my lord. I will arrange for the banquet as usual."
"Good." Raymont nodded, straightening his cuffs, his gaze regaining that composed nobility.
He stood up, donned a black cloak, and tightened his gloves.
Two trusted knights accompanied him, passing through the spiral passages of the fortress, heading downward.
The air gradually beca humid, mixed with the sll of rust and blood.
The hall at the bottom was as bright as those above ground, illuminated by neatly arranged alchemical oil lamps.
Rows of cages extended along the walls, the iron bars blackened by smoke.
Within the cages, children curled up, so shivering, so motionless, others screaming in agony. Thin tal tubes protruded from their backs, with dicinal liquid coursing through the pipes.
Shattered paper and discarded copper needles scattered the ground.
Several Alchemists silently navigated the pathways, adjusting valves and recording data, their expressions focused, as if tending to a group of modified specins.
That eerie sense of order was more chilling than chaos.
Behind the arched iron grating at the center was the heart of the entire hall, a giant dragon’s remains subrged in a bizarre pool of blood.
The dragon’s body was so massive it nearly filled half the room. Its fangs curved like scythes, partially embedded in the stone floor. Its tongue bone was fractured, and residual air bubbles gently erged from its throat cavity.
The pool of blood had a diater of nearly twenty ters, the liquid a deep red, shimring with a dark silver sheen under the alchemical lights.
The dragon’s spine resembled an exposed mountain ridge, with broken bone wings suspended by dozens of chains, dipping and erging from the blood, creating viscous waves.
Its chest cavity was open, filled with alchemical tubes and talisman arrays, with silvery liquid surging along the bone lines.
Several unconscious children lay beside the blood pool, their bodies restrained, their chests barely rising and falling.
An Alchemist tested the drug flow beside them, flipping one of the children over to inject a new liquid.
The child’s fingertips twitched, a hoarse moan escaping his throat, then quieted down again.
A pump beneath the dragon’s chest continued to operate, extracting luminous bone marrow. The pump’s heavy, rhythmic sound seed to breathe life back into the dead creature.
The entire hall subtly trembled, with dark red ripples spreading across the blood pool, as if the dead dragon was being revived.
The origins of this laboratory could be traced back over forty years.
Back then, Gray Rock Fort was still under construction, and Spencer’s father, Duke Aldric Raymont, discovered this legendary ancient dragon’s remains while building defense lines.
Indeed, it existed only in legends, never seen by anyone.
For military experintal purposes, he and the Alchemy Consultant Corps refined a potion capable of temporarily enhancing fighting energy on the battlefield, nad Dragon Marrow Extract.
This potion allowed knights to burst with fighting energy in critical monts, maintaining three minutes of maximum combat power.
But its side effects were extrely terrifying—excruciating pain, complete exhaustion, even death; using it over three tis was certain death.
Old Raymont regarded it as a last-resort battlefield secret, strictly prohibiting mass production, leaving only a warning: "This is not a power humans can wield."
However, after Raymont inherited the title, he saw not the risk, but an opportunity.
The Imperial Capital was amidst great upheaval, the Emperor missing, and factions seizing control. He keenly sensed an unprecedented gap.
An opportunity that could propel him to the core of the Empire’s power, even to dominate the entire continent.
He knew well this chaos would forge new order, and new order would certainly require strength.
Gray Rock held the secret of dragon marrow, and he couldn’t watch this bargaining chip slip through his fingers.
To him, morals, prohibition, and limits were nothing more than disposable paper.
As long as it could push him one step up, he would stride forward with a smile, even if a sea of blood lay below.
Thus, he burned his father’s warning, leaving only formulas and experint logs, ordering the Consultant Corps to restart the research, codenad the "Gray Rock Blood Refining Project."
He wasn’t satisfied with tactical potions but sought to build a strategic factory for mass-manufacturing power.
Transform the Dragon Marrow Extract into a stable catalyst, reshaping human flesh and nerves, allowing ordinary people to permanently possess fighting energy circuits.
All adult subjects died in the experints, only boys aged ten to fourteen could survive temporarily.
Hence, the "Gray Rock Charity Garden" above ground, nominally an orphanage, beca the laboratory’s material repository.
The children were recorded, numbered, then sent underground to beco new materials.
Alchemy Master Millar stepped forward and bowed: "My lord, the second-generation samples have been injected. Thirteen have successfully adapted, with four exceeding expected fighting energy awakening levels, expected to be ready for combat testing in three days."
Raymont asked calmly: "Side effects?"
"Still present. Average lifespan might be less than half a year."
"Half a year is enough." Raymont nodded slightly.
He turned to look at the row of numbered children in cages, his gaze as calm as if reviewing weapons.
"The potency still seems inadequate. Increase the dosage, and disregard the side effects."
Millar bowed his head, his voice slightly trembling: "As you command, my lord."
Raymont added coldly: "Rember, it cannot be exposed."
Then he left the underground hall without looking back at the children in the cages.
When he returned to the surface, the sun was already slanting into Gray Rock Square.
In the distance, the children’s hymns could be heard, the air fresh, golden light shining on his immaculate attire.
Raymont smiled as he walked out of the shadows, raising his hand to greet the crowd, still the "benevolent Duke."
No one knew that just a few hundred ters beneath his feet, those children’s hearts still beat together, propelling his Empire forward.
......
The late spring morning light spilled through the carriage window, filling the interior with a warm glow.
The fire flickered gently in the corner, the air carrying a faint scent of pine wood.
Louis woke from a light sleep, first hearing the rhythm of wheels against the ground.
The slight sway made him open his eyes, the firelight casting a pale golden hue in his eyes.
Louis first raised his hand and rubbed his eyebrows, exhaling deeply, the air carrying the warmth of charcoal.
He stretched his shoulders, leaned back on the seat, his gaze lingering on an old map in front of him before finally settling on the mark of Frost Dragon Ridge.
This was the third day since leaving Frost Dragon Ridge.
The Northern Territory’s establishnt eting had just ended, and he practically left right after the eting.
There was nothing there to keep him, nor any social necessity. Already, in the Chongqing eting, he gathered all the chips he could.
The Sixth Prince’s antics unexpectedly helped him, allowing him to gather over half of the nobility in the Northern Territory.
The Red Tide system could attract a quarter of the Northern Territory’s nobility. Now that over half had joined, it was a much better outco than expected for him.
To be honest, even if all Northern Territories nominally submitted, it would have been a burden; he didn’t have the resources to imdiately support so many territories.
The wisest path was to stabilize the nobles within the system first, then gradually eliminate those not yet joined from the Northern Territory power circle, waiting for their decline and demise, then smoothly annexing their territories and populations.
"The door is open," Louis muttered to himself, "but that’s just courtesy. What’s missed is missed forever."
Then Louis raised his hand and activated the Daily Intelligence System, a pale blue light screen shimring in the air, lines of information floating, reflecting in his eyes.
[Daily Intelligence Update Complete]
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