Rest

When the meeting ended, everyone left with their orders, and the office fell quiet again, with only the soft crackle of firewood burning in the hearth.

Karl did not leave at once. He stood alone beside the huge oak table, both hands braced on the unfolded map, his gaze deep as he stared for a long time at the symbols and lines marking Carnford and the regions around it.

The strategies they had just finalized in the meeting—the expansion of the navy, the retraining of the army, the construction of Tunbao, and relief through work—flowed one by one through his mind like clear veins, intertwining and finally merging into a grand blueprint for Carnford's future.

A surge of tremendous accomplishment and heavy responsibility stirred in his chest.

He slowly straightened, paced to the window, and pushed open the heavy glass panes.

The cool, fresh air of early autumn rushed in at once, carrying the mingled scent of earth from the courtyard and late-blooming roses, sweeping away the stale heaviness that had gathered in the room.

He took a deep breath, letting that crisp air fill his lungs, as if he meant to exhale along with it all the exhaustion of days spent wringing his heart dry.

Looking as far as he could, he took in the whole view of Carnford's main city and the surrounding fields.

In the distance, across the newly reclaimed farmland, golden waves of wheat swayed beneath the setting sun, heralding the coming harvest. Close by, smoke curled from the town at the foot of the castle, and faint human voices could be heard, brimming with vigorous life.

It was a scene of peace and harmony, forming an incomparably stark contrast with the hellish vision of blood and fire that was the Iron Islands in his memory.