The setting sun gradually sank beneath the sea, its shimmering gold receding against the tide.
A young man draped in a sapphire-blue shawl and dressed in a formal suit woven from devil silk strode out of the warehouse district. The port district's most luxurious hotel came into view.
The hotel was called Triumph.
It was said that its owner was a local citizen of Golden Gallon Port.
After The Alliance had seized control of the settlement and confirmed the property's ownership, it returned the hotel by the harbor to its original owner and replaced its business license.
To thank The Alliance for its generosity and celebrate Golden Gallon Port's liberation, the owner had immediately changed the hotel's name from Empire to Triumph.
Apparently, he had initially wanted to rename it The Alliance outright, but City Hall had rejected the request on the grounds that misleading signage was prohibited.
Dalia had no interest in the hotel's origins. What interested him was The Alliance's attitude toward the port.
Clearly, with the war having reached this point, The Alliance's soldiers probably would not withdraw from here. Or even if they did, they would not leave completely.
After investing such an enormous cost, even if they did not intend to directly incorporate this place into The Alliance's territory, they would at least establish a puppet government under indirect control.
Otherwise, there would have been no need for them to distribute food to the locals. They should have simply emptied the survivors' pockets like the Velanders did.
Or at least emptied the pockets of those obscenely wealthy nobles.
And judging from their actions so far, Dalia could almost conclude that The Alliance did not merely remove the slaves' shackles and leave them to fend for themselves. They intended to govern this land seriously.
If that