Capítulo 147: Hope for better days (2/3)
It was probably him who revealed the uses of distillation, the high priest Vari thought, eyes narrowing as he looked toward Rafael. And now, it seems they want to make a deal with us. With a slight nod, he signaled for Threo to continue.
"With distillation," the young king began, his voice bright with conviction, "we'll be able to prevent senseless deaths. Minor injuries, small cuts, even more severe wounds won't be fatal anymore." His words were charged with hope, and the others seated around the table smiled, nodding in agreement.
If such a remedy truly exists, it would be revolutionary, thought the young priest seated beside Vari, a flicker of excitement in his eyes.
"I'm sorry, but it sounds too good to be true, my king," Vari replied. His voice held skepticism, though his expression showed a glimmer of curiosity. "It would indeed be miraculous, but I don't understand how distillation alone could achieve such an effect."
"Don't worry, high priest," one of the king's advisors, Venes, interjected, drawing the attention of the room. "Our colleague Rafael has already explained how simple it is to produce this liquid, as well as its uses."
What kind of liquid could be this powerful? Vari wondered, his gaze turning back to Rafael. "I've heard much about you," he said slowly. "All these recent innovations—they come from you, don't they?" Rafael gave him a modest nod.
"So, what is it that you want from us, my king?" Vari asked, his tone laced with suspicion.
"I seek an alliance with you and your brethren," Threo replied. "We will provide the church with the knowledge of this substance, its uses, and how to produce it. In return, the church will refrain from interfering in some of our political matters. With this knowledge, you'll have a way to heal and protect your people, strengthening their faith in the divine."
Vari frowned, his expression hardening. "It's a generous offer, but why would you ask us to relinquish our voice in matters of the crown?"
Why would they demand such a concession? Vari's mind raced. Do they plan something that would clash with our teachings? Perhaps they're trying to secure our silence for questionable future decisions. He glanced at Rafael, his distrust deepening. This man holds too much sway over the throne.
"Please, don't misunderstand," Threo replied, his tone calm. "We simply ask for autonomy in certain decisions. I have no intention of severing ties with the church."
"The way you speak," Vari said, his voice lowering to a stern murmur, "it sounds as if there are things you wish to pursue that stray from our doctrines. Tell me, my king, is there something I should know?" His gaze bore into Threo, unyielding and demanding.
Threo met his eyes with steady resolve. "You have nothing to fear, high priest. There's nothing here that goes against the Lord's teachings or values. So, will you consider my proposal?"
A tense silence filled the room as the high priest considered the offer, his expression unreadable. At last, he spoke. "It is an intriguing offer. I will need some time to consult with my brothers before we make our decision."
"Of course. Might I expect the church's response by tomorrow?"
"Certainly," Vari replied, rising with his assistant. "If there's nothing else, we'll take our leave. It was a pleasure to meet so swiftly." With a slight bow, the two left the room. As the door clicked shut behind them, the silence broke with a murmur from one of the generals.
"Do you think they'll accept our offer?"
"He's no fool; he knows this is not as simple as it sounds," Linus, another advisor, observed. "They're gaining much in the promise of healing and salvation, while we ask merely for a bit of discretion in return. Anyone would be suspicious."
"They might question our intentions before agreeing," another advisor added. "They'll likely want assurances on our future actions."
Threo glanced at his advisors. "So, what should we tell them?" he asked, his gaze sweeping the room.
Outside, the city bustled with activity despite the biting cold. Though the snow had ceased for the moment, the air was crisp, and workers labored tirelessly by the river, constructing something massive. After nearly ten days of labor, a tall chimney had begun to take shape, far larger than any chimney seen before. Nearby, sturdy brick buildings rose beside the blast furnace, drawing the curious eyes of passersby.
On the outskirts, a carpentry workshop buzzed with activity as skilled artisans worked under the guidance of an elderly mathematician—likely one of Rafael's old acquaintances. Even in the dead of winter, when the capital usually fell quiet, there was an unusual excitement. People sensed that these new projects promised a brighter future, and hope seemed to bloom despite the season's harshness.
Inside the meeting room, Threo's advisors debated the terms of the church's involvement. They ultimately agreed it was best to avoid sharing any specific plans with the clergy, pressing forward with their policies regardless of the church's stance.
"Anything else?" Threo asked.
"There's been activity near Tredember, close to the Swabian border," General Wallhart reported. "Our scouts observed that nearly all enemy troops have gathered there, leaving their other cities and villages scarcely defended."
"They've been retreating steadily for weeks now," another general noted. "It's almost as if they've abandoned further plans to invade our lands."
"We've discussed this possibility," Linus added. "The southern half of our kingdom is under Swabian control, and the rest seems to belong to the Austrasians."
"But this behavior is unusual," Wallhart continued. "Reports suggest there's been infighting between their forces, though we don't know why."
They exchanged theories about what might be delaying the enemy's advance—disagreements, resource struggles, even the harsh winter weather. Yet as they speculated, Rafael sat in silence, a cold sweat forming on his brow. This isn't good…
"Rafael, do you have something on your mind?" Threo's voice cut through his thoughts.
"Yes… I'd like to know more about the scouts' reports from the beginning of the invasion," he replied, his voice trembling slightly.
"Oh, right, you weren't here when the war started," Threo said, nodding. "Let me explain. Our scouts first noted enemy forces gathering at the borders. The Swabians struck swiftly, advancing without hesitation. But then, something changed. Their troops stopped pushing forward and were seen moving toward Burmegh, where Baron Floutt resides."
"Captured soldiers hinted at new orders," Wallhart added.
Rafael swallowed hard. "And… what were those orders?"
The Duke's voice took on a grim tone. "Half their forces were instructed to fall back and secure the transport of something back to their lands." Rafael's vision blurred, nausea twisting his stomach.
"Rafael, are you all right?" one of the advisors asked, noticing his pallor.
"Yes… I'm fine," Rafael mumbled, struggling to maintain his composure. No, no, no! They're taking my time machine! I have to stop them!
Threo's brows furrowed. "Why wasn't I told of this sooner?" he demanded, looking at Wallhart.
"My apologies, my lord. I only received the intelligence yesterday and planned to report it today. I took the opportunity from our colleague's question to raise the issue."
"But what could they be transporting that's so valuable it outweighs the conquest of our kingdom?" The room fell into contemplation, yet Rafael knew precisely what it was. Only he felt the weight of impending doom pressing down on him.
Estado de energía semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Piedra de
Poder