Countless commoners wept bitterly.
That was not merely a fleet.
That was the Human Race.
Those were not merely shiploads of people.
They were the backbone of the Human Race.
Some people had given up.
The Idle Prince Army had not given up.
The people of the realm had not given up.
That was the Human Race's last hope.
"Cross the river!"
"Cross the river!"
"Cross the river!"
The entire city's people shouted in unison.
The roars of hundreds of thousands layered together, their sound scattering like willow catkins.
Imperial Palace.
"Hmm?"
"Reporting to Your Majesty, the rebel prince passed by, and ten thousand voices cursed him."
"East of the city?"
"East of the city."
Silence returned to the Imperial Study, leaving only the sound of a brush moving across paper.
Outside the eastern gate.
Han Anbo and Zheng Hui stood amid the crowd, slowly wiping their cheeks with their palms.
He wiped them many times, yet his face was always wet.
"He must know we're watching him," Zheng Hui said softly.
"He knows." Han Anbo's eyes were slightly red.
"The Human Race still has people with hard bones," Zheng Hui said.
"Of course. It always has," Han Anbo said.
Together with the city's people, the two watched the flying fleet depart alongside the sun.
Even after the sun and the flying fleet had vanished from sight together, the crowd remained unwilling to leave for a long while.
The people of Divine Capital seemed to have forgotten how to speak as they silently made their way back.
Occasionally, an excited child would cry out, only for their parents to cover their mouth.
Han Anbo and Zheng Hui followed the crowd back into Divine Capital in silence.
"Do you think the Idle Prince can still return to Divine Capital?" Zheng Hui