People in Terra, governing a bizarre little country

Mudrock is currently wearing an old-fashioned hunter's outfit that he found in a village on the Victorian border. It was cheap, and its advantages are that it is purely handmade and the animal hide is very warm. Its disadvantage is that it is purely handmade and has no technological content, so its defensive capabilities are very worrying.

This outfit, coupled with the striking double horns atop Mudrock's head, unsurprisingly sparked discussion among the crowd.

"Is that a Sarkaz?"

"It's a Sarkaz! My cousin's wife's uncle is Caprini, and they don't have these pointy ears!"

"Why is the Sarkaz here in Sherag? Hmm—is he here to rob the train station?"

"But she's so beautiful."

"Slap!" A crisp slap rang out from somewhere, followed by a scolding, "Lecio, what the hell is wrong with you? You're all grown up now. You should know that a person should have higher aspirations. You even covet Sarkaz. You're despicable!"

A flicker of realization crossed the face of the boy who had just been slapped by his companion, and then he painfully slapped himself in return.

“You’re right. I’ve failed my country, my parents, and my teachers! I came to Shelag to admire that domed research station, how could I let a Sarkaz ruin my important mission!”

He nudged his friend's shoulder:

"Let's go, let's get away from this Sarkaz."

Mudstone stared in astonishment at the two people who had given up their place in line as they walked away, somewhat at a loss for what to do.

Am I being ostracized?

It seems so, but Mudrock is already used to this level of disdain and contempt.

But Mudstone felt that something was wrong.

Why are people leaving the line in front of me one after another?

Before long, there were hardly any people left in front of the mudstone. The tourists who had been queuing earlier had all silently moved away from the window, even turning their heads to the side, as if they found even breathing the same air as the Sarkaz disgusting.

She does seem to have been bullied, but then again, she doesn't seem to have...

Confused, Ni Yan stepped forward and looked at the ticket seller at the window.

The ticket seller was a Sherag woman. She looked up at the mudstone, her expression somewhat bewildered.

She remembered that she wasn't the one in line just now.

But since no one around her raised any objections, she asked in a businesslike manner:

"Miss, could you please provide your identification?"

Mudstone opened his mouth: "Uh..."

She's a Sarkaz from Kazdel, where would she get that kind of thing from?

She pursed her lips, opened the handbag at her waist, took out a red gold bar, and placed it on the counter.

The ticket seller was greatly shocked.

This was the first time she had ever seen someone buy a ticket with pure gold.

A train ticket certainly wouldn't cost that much, and besides, she wouldn't have any change to make.

Moreover, this Ms. Sarkaz did not provide any identification; was she perhaps trying to bribe me?

Jeragand, what have I done wrong? Why are you putting me through this test?

Silently muttering "Gangmen" in her heart, the ticket seller shook her head and pushed the red gold back:

"I'm sorry, miss, we don't accept pure gold here."

"Also, miss, I can't sell you a ticket without identification or a special reason."

Can't you sell me a ticket?

Mudstone frowned. To be honest, she was used to this kind of situation. Although people who refused bribes in pure gold were few, she had seen it all before.

If all else fails, she could simply walk along the train tracks into Shelag. She'd already come this far, so what's a little more distance?

Now that we're here, we absolutely cannot stop here.

Mudrock remained silent for a moment, put away the crimson gold, and was about to turn and leave when a steady female voice came from behind him:

"Miss, this is my friend, let me buy her a ticket."

Mudrock shuddered and turned around warily to look at the Sarkaz woman who had appeared behind her at some point.

She couldn't sense the woman's presence at all!

Nasti, carrying several bags on her back, glanced at Mudrock and tossed one of her bags to him.

"Don't just look at it, hold it for me, I'll buy the ticket."

Nasti, after all, was a key architect of the Kjerag Railway Station and the Dome Research Station, having participated in the reconstruction of Tukarim and the construction of the Kjerag Railway Station. She held a certain degree of influence in Kjerag. The ticket seller, being a railway station employee, naturally recognized this important figure whose photo hung in her office. Seeing this, she didn't suspect anything, took the Kjerag frans offered, and quickly issued two tickets.

"Welcome back, Ms. Nasti. May the great god Yeragand bless you and may you enjoy your time in Sherag, Golem."

Nasti nodded slightly and took the ticket: "Gangmen."

She turned around, her eyelids twitched, and she stuffed a ticket into Niyan's arms before walking straight toward the VIP waiting area.

Mudrock quickly caught up, glanced at Nasti's profile, and finally couldn't help but ask:

"Why help me?"

"Because I need you."

Nasti glanced sideways at Mudrock, her eyes flashing with a deep, suppressed joy that still overflowed.

"Child of Earth and Stone, are you the child of earth and stone?"

Mudstone paused for a moment, then nodded, somewhat puzzled.

So what if I'm the child of earth and stone? Why do you look so happy?

Was Nasti happy? She was so happy she almost jumped for joy!

The Son of Earth and Stone! This is the Son of Earth and Stone! How long has it been since Sarkaz has seen a living Son of Earth and Stone? When Nasti made up her mind to switch from the manipulative funeral industry to the unorthodox field of civil engineering, she began searching for the Son of Earth and Stone.

After all, no matter how powerful a banshee's witchcraft is, she's still an amateur in the field of civil engineering and needs to learn and gradually get started. But what about the Child of Earth and Stone?

They are the true chosen ones!

To use an imperfect analogy, if Terra is a Minecraft player who has used a mod, then Nasti is a player who switched from combat and adventure to building. Every building she constructs is the result of searching for tutorials, studying ideas, and building it block by block. In this process, the spells she acquired from her previous adventures are, if not completely unrelated, at least not directly applicable.

But the Child of Earth and Stone is different. He's playing the game with the "Be a Creator" mod enabled. With a single command, "Soil, heed my command," a wall rises up, as if he were holding a small wooden axe.

Nasti believed that with such a Son of Earth and Stone around, the progress of her aerial Kazdel project would be greatly accelerated!

Even if she seems a little shy, that doesn't matter! When Nastya first came to Sherag, she was even more shy than Nastya, just working with her head down every day. But later, didn't she openly play the flute... the little suona for Ernst?

It can't be called corruption; it's just that everyone goes through this process. With her mentor guiding her, Nasti believed that this Child of Earth and Stone would progress much faster.

"Speaking of which, I haven't even asked your name yet, or what brings you to Shelag?"

Mudrock was initially wary, but she didn't sense any malice from Nasti. In fact, this fellow Sarkaz was well-dressed, smelled fresh, and even wore light makeup. She looked completely different from mercenaries like herself, more like the nobles of Letania or the elites of Colombia that Mudrock had met before.

After hesitating for a moment, she still answered:

"Mudstone."

"I came to Shelag after receiving a summons from Hedley."

“Hedley?” Nastie recognized the name; he was a Sarkaz teacher at Ernst’s school. While Nastie didn’t think he was particularly skilled, among the Sarkaz, who were generally considered to have dropped out of prenatal education, he could be considered a prophet.

Where did he get the authority to summon the Sarkaz to Sherag?

Needless to say, it was Ernst's idea.

Nasti's mood immediately improved. Ernst's gentler attitude towards the Sarkaz was good news for her; after all, her dream was to recreate Kazdel in the skies above Kjerag!

If Ernst takes that arbitrary step of excluding Sarkaz, then she will be in a real predicament.

Nastie couldn't help but smile.

Tsk, the more I think about it, the more I like it. It was worth it for her to sneak out of Rhine Lab and run back overnight, carrying big bags and small packages without telling Seria or even Christensen. Ernst's big surprise is just what she wanted!

We should reciprocate with a gift! What kind of surprise should we prepare?

Or perhaps, the Banshee's Kiss?

Chapter 394 Kal'tsit: Ascalon, Ernst is in your hands now.

Great Yan, Longmen, Longmen Governor's Mansion.

Wei Yanwu sat with his legs crossed, tapping his long pipe lightly on the table, a troubled expression on his face:

"Dr. Kal'tsit, is it really time to leave so soon? Our cooperation has been quite pleasant, and as the Governor of Lungmen, I would like to do my best to be a good host."

Kal'tsit understood Wei Yanwu's point of view.

In fact, Rhodes Island didn't want to leave Lungmen so quickly. The infected problem in the city had only been initially resolved, and many other issues remained lurking. As is customary, Rhodes Island should conduct a period of observation and in-depth research before deciding on further matters.

Even if we take a step back and assume that Wei Yanwu never publicly acknowledges any potential threat of infected individuals in Lungmen, the work done by Rhodes Island is undeniable. Wei Yanwu is also a sensible man, and he did indeed prepare some gifts of gratitude for Rhodes Island.

He had even contacted Adams Schweitzer, asking him to arrange for the Schweitzer family to make contact with Rhode Island. After all, the Schweitzer family had always wanted to expand their business into the medical device and pharmaceutical industries, and Rhode Island, in Wei Yanwu's view, did indeed need a strong enough backer.

Yes, he was certainly aware of Rhodes Island's slogans of "absolute neutrality," "free trade," and "no political affiliation." But in his view, these were just empty words; who really took them seriously?

The last dynasty to champion free trade, Casimir, saw its domestic trusts nearly monopolize everything. The last dynasty to claim absolute neutrality, Lateran, broke its promise during the Ursus Conquest, deploying the Papal Musketeers to fight against the heavily armored Wendigo legions of Ursus. The last dynasty to claim to be a "hegemon of equality" with no political leanings, Gaul, is now so obsolete that even political jokes about them are avoided.

There are plenty of people who talk about principles but are only interested in business. Even countries are not immune to this, let alone a profit-driven commercial company like Rhode Island.

So-called neutrality, in other words, is actually "wanting everything." It wants to eat this and that, wanting to eat Victoria on one hand and Colombia on the other, pleasing Ursus while not offending Casimir. That is the essence of neutrality.

Wei Yanwu understood everything and didn't think there was anything wrong with it. Everyone in the world is driven by profit, and Rhodes Island had helped Lungmen solve some trouble, so he didn't mind giving Rhodes Island a little something in return.

Besides, he's also greedy. Such an act of introduction can be a big deal or a small deal. He doesn't intend to force a deal between the Swire family and Rhodes Island. Ultimately, it all depends on Rhodes Island's own capabilities.

But just as he finished making arrangements, Kal'tsit suddenly handed him a mid-term report, requesting to leave Lungmen, which puzzled Wei Yanwu somewhat.

I've made all the arrangements, invited everyone, and booked the banquet. What do you mean by running away now?

What? You look down on me, Wei Yanwu?

Kelsey sighed.

To be honest, she really didn't mean it that way at all.

The reason she was in such a hurry to leave was quite simple: there were priorities, and the matters concerning Sherag and Kazimir were more urgent!

Kal'tsit still remembers the exhaustion and panic that surged in her heart when Ascalon pinched her philtrum to wake her up.

I'm not dead?

How come I'm still alive?

Kal'tsit is considered a very resilient person. Even when Mitracia was assassinated by her ruthless brother, Professor Trunks, and the Doctor seemed to have cooperated, she was still not this devastated.

After all, the Demon King's death was ultimately just the death of one person. Although Theresa's vision was far-reaching, she was ultimately misunderstood by the world, especially by her own kind. In a sense, death was a kind of liberation for her.

But she never imagined that one day, the phrase "death would be a relief for her" would be applied to her own life.

Before she left, she repeatedly warned that Sherag could not gather any more Sarkaz, but Ernst seemed to have completely ignored her advice.

She even planned to set up a Sarkaz Administration, and Kal'tsit was too embarrassed to call her out on it, asking, "Are you planning to set up an administration?"

Next, are you planning to tell me that because the Sarkaz clans have different areas of expertise, in order to maximize the Sarkaz racial advantages, help them find suitable jobs, and clarify their position in Sherag, you've decided to manage each clan separately?

Then, in order to ensure that the separately managed clans could better connect with the Shelag government, it was decided that each clan would elect a clan representative to form a Sarkaz representative assembly, responsible for collecting opinions from the Sarkaz people and communicating with the head of the Sarkaz Affairs Administration appointed by the Shelag government.

Then, because the Sarkaz clan has always been known for its arrogance, a person with both sufficient qualifications and prestige is needed to serve as the head of this administration. While Hadley is certainly capable, his status within the Sarkaz is too low to command respect. A more influential figure should be chosen. So, you inadvertently ended up in Londinium, and then, unintentionally, had a pleasant conversation with Theresis, ultimately leading you to earnestly invite her to Serrag to serve as the chairman of this committee?

Right, that's exactly what you want to do, isn't it?

This isn't just Kal'tsit making things up; she's just making a reasonable deduction. Based on her understanding of Ernst, it's hard to say he wouldn't do it!

Kal'tsit felt that rather than having Ernst go to Theresis, that deceitful regent, later, it would be better to go to Kazimierz now, find Ernst, and confess to him:

"Lauen, don't go! Actually, Rhodes Island is the true organization of the Demon Lord. Look at our Amiya, look at that little black crown on her head, it's real!"

Cough cough...

The above are some wild and whimsical ideas that came to mind when clearing up error information fragments after the Kal'tsit host CPU overheated from running at ultra-high speed and was forced to cool down and restart.

She would never, under any circumstances, hand Amiya over to anyone. She was Theresa's remaining hope, the flame burning across this decaying land, the young demon king of another race—she could not fall into the hands of any ambitious person!

Even a politician like Ernst, who may or may not be an ambitious man but is certainly a stamp collector, could not possibly collect this rare fragment of the Demon King from her!