The entire city of Alubarna is built of sandstone, with walls over ten meters high, polished smooth as a mirror by hundreds of years of wind and sand.
Every twenty steps along the city wall stood a square tower, and the lookout post atop each tower could see any moving target within a ten-kilometer radius.
The city gate was made of oak covered with iron, as thick as a hand, and the dull thud of the hinges turning could be heard three streets away.
The royal palace sits atop the highest point in the very center of the city, with layers of domes and arcades rising gradually along the terraces.
The banners of the Nefertari Royal Family hung low on the palace walls, and there was not a breath of wind in the air.
As Barlow and his two companions led the sand horses into the observation range of the outer defense line, horns immediately sounded from the city walls.
The deep sound of horns traveled from one square tower to the next, echoing throughout the entire city wall.
Almost simultaneously, dozens of dark gun muzzles emerged from behind the wall, the sights of the muskets forming a discontinuous bright line in the sunlight.
The sound of horseshoes striking the stone pavement came from inside the city gate, as a troop of cavalry was hastily forming ranks.
"Halt! Who goes there? State your identity and purpose!" The officer at the city gate, his hand on the hilt of his sword, spoke through the barbed wire.
Barlow pulled on the reins, not reaching for his knife or any identification documents, but simply placing his hands calmly on the fore-saddle bridge.
Roy and Mila stopped half a step behind him, making no move to draw their swords, just like him.
A person rushed out from the stone-paved road inside the city gate.
The man was about fifty years old, wearing a drab desert merchant's robe, the hem of which billowed up in the wind as he ran.
As he ran, he waved his hands and shouted to the officer on the city gate, "Don't shoot! Don't shoot! These are our own people!"
He ran to the city gate, put his hands on his knees to catch his breath, then straightened his back, adjusted the front of his robe, and said to the officer in a formal tone completely different from his usual greetings with old friends, "This is Mr. Uchiha Balo, the president of the Uchiha Trading Company, and his younger brother and sister-in-law."
The officer hesitated for a moment.
This middle-aged man was a household name in Alubarna. He was the resident representative of the Uchiha Trading Company in the capital of Alabasta, and he was very influential in the royal capital and noble circles. Even the palace stewards treated him like a brother. His personal power almost exceeded the authority conferred by the title of the Uchiha Trading Company.
The officer waved his hand, and the muzzles of the two squads of guards lowered their guns one after another, and the sound of the cavalry leading the charge also stopped.
The iron-clad oak gate slowly opened a crack, just wide enough for a horse to pass through.
The person in charge wiped the sweat from his brow and led the three into the city while beginning his report at a rapid pace, knowing that Barlow disliked idle chatter.
He said the capital is now under martial law, and the area within three blocks around the royal palace has been sealed off; entry and exit require passing through two checkpoints.
When news of the rebels reaching the vicinity of Alubarna spread, panic gripped the city, and food prices soared. Fortunately, the merchant guild's warehouses had sufficient reserves; he had taken it upon himself to smuggle in a batch of grain when the rebels first rose up, enough to last at least a while.
As for the Chamber of Commerce's losses, the preliminary book losses after the Rainbase warehouse was looted by the rebels have exceeded 100 million Beli, not including the equipment and spice inventory at the Yuba transit station.
His tone was apologetic, as if he had poked a hole in the ledger.
Barlow didn't respond to that question. He walked along the main street of Alubarna, his gaze sweeping over the shops on both sides of the street.
Most shops were closed, and the wooden windows were tightly shut. Occasionally, a pair of wary eyes would peek out from a crack in a second-floor window.
The streets were sparsely populated, with only a few residents wearing headscarves occasionally hurrying past along the walls. Upon seeing the attire and swords of Barlow and his group, they would quickly lower their heads and quicken their pace.
Several refugees who had escaped from the occupied area were squatting on the street corner. One of them, a woman, was sleeping against the wall with a baby in her arms. The baby's lips were dry and cracked, and it was unconsciously sucking in its sleep.
"What did the royal palace say?" Barlow asked.
The person in charge sighed, "His Majesty the King summons his ministers every day, but so far he hasn't come up with a clear solution. The guards were severely weakened after Charles's defection, and the troops in various places are either out of contact or have been incorporated into the rebels. The remaining men can't even fill the outer perimeter of the palace. His Majesty's hair has turned quite white these past few days, and he's lost weight, but he's still holding on."
The audience chamber of the royal palace is located in the center of the palace complex, accessible only by passing through three arched gates and a dry fountain square.
On either side of the main hall's portico stand two rows of statues of past kings of the Nefertari Royal Family. The base of the statue closest to the hall's entrance is inscribed with "Nefertari D. Wolof"—the current king and ruler of Alabasta.
The statue depicts Wolof as young and upright, with broad shoulders, a straight back, and piercing eyes.
After entering the temple, Barlow saw the live-action version of the statue.
Wolof sat on the throne, his back still straight and his shoulders still broad, but his face, which was exactly like the statue's, was now etched with things that the statue did not have.
His eyelids drooped, his cheekbones protruded, and large patches of white hair spread from his black hair at his temples, like salt flats in a desert slowly swallowing an oasis.
He wore an Ivory White Royal Robe embroidered with the Sun Emblem of the Nefertari Royal Family. His hands were folded on his knees, his knuckles were thick, and there were cracked blood vessels along the edges of his nails.
Standing to the right of the throne was a young woman dressed in an elegant light blue dress. Her long, dark brown hair was braided and hung down to her chest, with the ends secured by a Silver Sun Hair Clasp.
Her facial features were remarkably similar to the king's, but the lines of her cheekbones and brow bones were less rugged and more gentle, befitting her age.
She stood very upright, her shoulders even straighter than her father's. She was Nefertari D. Lia, the eldest daughter of King Wolof.
As Barlow walked in through the temple doors, her gaze inadvertently fell upon them, and then stopped.
Barlow wore a dark gray desert cloak, the collar buttons fastened meticulously to his collarbone, his face calm, his steps even.
He was neither the imposing stature of a warrior nor the middle-aged puffiness of a businessman.
Slender, clean-cut, with eyes fixed straight ahead, his hands hung at his sides, his fingers long and strong, his nails neatly trimmed.
Lia's gaze lingered on him for a moment, then she realized she was still looking at him, so she looked away at the ground beside her, and then looked back a few seconds later.
Barlow stopped in the center of the hall.
He bowed slightly to the throne, a small gesture, just enough to show respect without being excessive.
"Uchiha Balo, Chairman of the Uchiha Trading Company. This is my younger brother Roy, and my younger sister Mila. We come from Water 7. Alabasta is an important partner of the Uchiha Trading Company, and we will not stand idly by in the face of our partner's peril."
Wolof leaned forward slightly, and when he spoke, his voice was more composed than Barlow had expected. That composure, forged over decades in royal robes and palaces, would not dissipate after a few sleepless nights.
"I have learned of your Chamber of Commerce's losses in Alabasta from the report of the branch manager. The war has affected your businesses, and as the King, I deeply apologize."
"The rebellion was not instigated by His Majesty the King; the one truly responsible for the losses is the one who launched the rebellion," Barlow said.
"The Uchiha Trading Company is not here to seek compensation for losses. We are willing to provide the Nefertari Royal Family with material and intelligence support, including food, medicine, intelligence on the rebels' movements, and appropriate troop assistance. The specific list and terms can be discussed later, but I can make this commitment now."
Wolof paused for a moment, his fingers, resting on his knees, tightened slightly, the cracks on his knuckles becoming more pronounced in the candlelight.
He nodded slowly, his voice gaining a new depth. "The Nefertari Family will remember the Uchiha Trading Company's assistance."
Barlow took a step forward, his voice lower than before, just enough to reach everyone in the hall without sounding aggressive.
"From Rainbase to Alubarna, we passed through several occupied towns along the way."
He paused slightly, "We discovered that the leader of the rebels was Nefertari D. Prince, and if I remember correctly, His Prince was declared dead from illness three years ago."
Upon hearing the name in the hall, Wolof's fingers tightened sharply beneath the fabric of the royal robe.
Lia's eyelashes drooped, and her lips were pressed into a very thin line.
The king remained silent for a long time, so long that one of the candles on the candlestick burned down to its end.
He spoke, his voice much heavier than before.
Prince was frail and sickly from childhood. When he was sixteen, his old illness relapsed violently, and even the royal Royal Physician, who worked day and night, could not Rotation. To avoid causing national panic, the announcement of his death was delayed by several months.
"As for his appearance among the rebels claiming to Prince, I only recently learned of this. My judgment is that someone has stolen Prince's name and bloodline, with the aim of undermining the legitimacy of the Nefertari Royal Family. A dead prince cannot be resurrected, and a crown prince declared dead cannot rebel. The person standing in the Rainbase, no matter how much he resembles Prince, is not my son."
He finished speaking, enunciating each word clearly, as if he had rehearsed a script repeatedly.
His fingers, resting on his knees, were still trembling slightly. Lia, sitting next to the throne, looked up, her gaze not on Barlow, but on her father's profile.
She looked at the gray hair at her father's temples and the trembling in his eyes as he spoke; her lips moved, but no sound came out.