Jon could swear these were the most absurd two words he’d ever heard in his life.
“There’s hundreds of thousands, maybe millions, still starving outside; countless citizens of the Empire swept away by floods, waiting for us to save them. And you’re telling me—now we’re supposed to celebrate a triumphant return?”
He glared at Yuna, fury blazing in his eyes.
“Saint! Open your eyes and look outside! What exactly have we saved? What have we conquered?”
“Jon, calm down, don’t get worked up.”
Yuna hurriedly soothed him in a gentle voice, patiently explaining the situation.
“Look, at this point, it’s not something that a few of us staying behind, or a few troops staying behind, can change.”
“If you really want to save people, you need to mobilize enough resources from the Empire. At the very least, you need enough money to shelter these refugees and feed them until next spring’s planting.”
“And all those resources are in His Majesty’s hands.”
“So, your most important task right now is to earn His Majesty’s trust, and absolutely not let him become suspicious of you.”
“We’ve already delayed long enough in Rossi City. If we keep stalling and His Majesty starts to suspect your loyalty, and suspects you of diverting resources to the Qianhe Territory for ulterior motives, then Qianhe Territory will be finished.”
Jon was silent.
He struggled to think.
What Yuna said wasn’t entirely nonsense.
In fact, there was some sense to it.
Dealing with the disaster across the entire Qianhe Territory wasn’t just about sheltering a mere twelve villages and a few thousand people.
It was a “massive project” spanning a vast territory and affecting hundreds of thousands, even millions.
The harsh reality was—a blow right to the head—he had no money.
He could split the earth.
But he couldn’t create firewood, couldn’t create clothes, couldn’t conjure food.
“Then lend me the Holy Army for three days. In three days, I’ll save as many as I can, then I’ll go back with you immediately.”
Jon compromised.
“Jon…”
Yuna hesitated, then gently reminded him.
“Three days is still too long.”
“Two days, then. If I hurry, two days is enough.”
Jon could only continue to give ground.
“I mean tomorrow.”
“Only tomorrow?”
“We leave tomorrow.”
The air fell silent.
Jon stared at Yuna.
Even though he already knew Yuna wasn’t exactly a saint, her words still managed to shatter the last bit of respect he held for her.
But he held back.
“I have a proposal.”
Jon took a deep breath, forcing himself to slow his speech and stay calm.
“I’ll go back with you, but the Holy Army stays behind… Is that acceptable? I can pay double the extra wages.”
The Saint sighed deeply.
At this point, she gave up pretending to be a white lotus in front of Jon and laid it all out.
“Jon, you know that’s impossible. I have to bring the Holy Army back fully assembled, or it becomes a major political stain, giving my political enemies an excuse to attack me and Uncle Robert.”
“I understand.”
Jon took a deep breath.
He dragged his chair, stood up, turned to leave, but suddenly looked back, voicing the question that had been bottled up inside him for so long.
“Miss Yuna.”
Autumn’s chill seeped in.
Jon’s frosty gaze swept Yuna from head to toe.
“In your eyes, is the position of Saint more important, or the essence of being a Saint?”
Yuna didn’t hesitate, nor did she offer any falsehoods.
She answered with utmost sincerity.
“Jon… You’ll understand eventually. The reason we strive to hold this position is to better fulfill its essence.”
“Then I’d rather be an idiot my whole life.”
Jon laughed at himself, slammed the door, and left without looking back.
—
Jon went to find Margaret.
As expected, he was turned away at the door.
He continued on to find Cobilio.
At the time, the Imperial Guard’s top fighter was playing cards with his men, face flushed with victory and grinning from ear to ear.
After hearing Jon’s request—to bypass Margaret and borrow men and dragons directly—Cobilio instantly had a headache.
“Jon… Without an order from the Princess, we can’t just act as we please. Besides, in two days we’re supposed to triumphantly return to the Imperial Capital. If we’re found short-handed before departure and the Princess holds us responsible, I…”
He gave a bitter smile.
“You call this a triumphant return?”
Jon’s eyes reddened as he questioned.
“Why not? We beat the Demon Tribe, didn’t we? Sigh, you brat.”
Cobilio patted Jon’s shoulder.
“A job’s a job. In our circle, don’t take things too seriously—keep your mind flexible.”
“Is it really impossible?”
“To be honest, I really want to help you. I’m not just saying that.”
Cobilio gathered up the Magic Crystal Cards on the table, sighing.
“If you and the Princess were on good terms, I could help you—what’s above won’t blame, what’s below isn’t guilty. But with things so strained, if I help you, the Princess definitely won’t just turn a blind eye.”
“I get it.”
Jon stood up to leave.
Suddenly, Cobilio reached out and grabbed him.
“Wait a moment.”
He dug into his clothes and pulled out a small, well-hidden pouch.
Inside was a high-purity purple Magic Stone—usually used as currency for large transactions.
“Take it.”
Cobilio forced the Magic Stone into Jon’s hand and gave his shoulder two firm pats.
“I knew it. You’re up to trouble again. Teacher doesn’t have much to give you—this is the savings I’ve accumulated over the years for my marriage fund. I’m giving it to you… Remember, spend it wisely.”
Jon stared at Cobilio.
Their eyes met, and Jon saw deep regret and pain in his teacher’s gaze.
“Maybe you shouldn’t. Teacher, let me give it back.”
Jon felt Cobilio must have acted on impulse and was already regretting it.
But Cobilio elbowed him and waved him off irritably.
“Get out! Once given, you can’t return it. Are you looking down on me? Go, just seeing you brings me bad luck. Nothing good ever happens when you’re around. Your star sign must clash with mine.”
“Oh…”
Jon lowered his head and was chased out of the room by scolding.
As soon as the Hero left, Cobilio collapsed into his chair, as if all the bones in his body had melted.
“My money… my money… so much of my money…”
He stared at the ceiling, muttering in a daze.
The vice captain and squad leaders who’d been playing cards with him watched, trying hard not to laugh.
“Sir, if you give your marriage fund to the Hero, are you giving up on marriage?”
The vice captain teased.
“You get out too!”
Cobilio snapped, exasperated.
—
In the corridor.
Jon heard faint “roaring” behind him and looked back in confusion.
He frowned, scratched his head, but didn’t dwell on it.
Instead, he suddenly felt how life’s troubles were intertwined, misfortune piling upon misfortune, with no cure or end in sight.
—
Returning to Hope Town.
Outside the barracks, young men from the security force, armed with makeshift spears and sticks, guarded the entrance, facing off against a group of ragged “refugees.”
Jon was startled.
He hurried over to mediate.
But before he could, the “refugees” saw him, and as if seeing a savior, they all collapsed to their knees with a “thud,” crying out desperately:
“Lord Hero! Please save us! We were wrong! We know we were wrong! Please let us in!”
Jon was stunned.
He looked helplessly at both sides.
At that moment, a young security guard came over and whispered in his ear.
“Brother Jon, these are the ones who left before. They got robbed by refugees halfway, lost their clothes and food, and now want to come back… Please don’t let them in! It’s disgusting, ugh!”
Jon’s mouth slowly dropped open.
“Has the situation gotten so bad people have started robbing each other?”
He asked anxiously.
“Yeah… Xiao Liu went out to check. It’s been chaos for days, but it hasn’t spread here yet. For some reason, the rain is much lighter in our area.”
“Lighter?”
“Relatively speaking, yes. I heard that farther out, the rain falls like it’s being dumped from a basin. You can’t even open your eyes outside.”
“……”
“Let’s not talk about that now. Oh, right, Lord Hero, the town Mascot—the beautiful Pupu you raised—seems to be looking for you.”
Jon couldn’t help but smile at the mention of Leah.
He put aside all the outside troubles, hurriedly followed the security guard into the town, wanting nothing more than to hug Leah right away.
“Did she say what she wanted?”
Jon asked as they walked.
The guard frowned deeply, trying to recall.
“Hmm… She said she was in class with Miss Anna, got inspired, and created something she wanted to show you.”
“Created something? What, a clay figure?”
“No, it’s called…”
The guard finally remembered, slapping his forehead.
“Oh! It’s called an Electric Machine.”