Preparations for the Blood Moon Season

Ryan stood outside Grasshawk Fief, with the people responsible for its various affairs lined up behind him.

Hoofbeats sounded from deep within the Gray Fog. The Administrative Supervisor from Blackpine rode at the front and dismounted.

Ryan remained composed. With a wave behind him, he said, "Here are the complete records for Grasshawk Fief."

The Recorders hurried forward. Wooden chests were opened one after another, and maps of the relay roads were laid out neatly before the Blackpine Recorder.

The Administrative Supervisor leafed through several pages, then looked up. "Grasshawk Fief is joining the wartime coordination system. Intelligence will be reported through a unified channel, and deployment will fall under the Blackpine System—"

He delivered the declaration with practiced ease. Both sides knew every provision by heart: he had to read it to Ryan at regular intervals. Those were His Highness Sheen's rules.

Grasshawk Fief had been part of the Blackpine System for nearly two years.

They had begun with a cautious handover of the old accounts, then gradually reorganized every kind of record into Blackpine's format. Through putting it into practice, Ryan had developed a firm understanding of the system.

These rules formed the foundation of Grasshawk's operations, allowing every task to move forward without interruption.

"The southwest section has been adjusted." Ryan pointed to a light-brown route. "It used to be divided by distance. Now it's divided by the horsepower required and the roadbed's load capacity. Roadbed Three can handle light crossbow carts and medical supply wagons."

The Administrative Supervisor bent to examine it, then asked, "What about the backup route?"

Ryan handed him another route map. "This road remains passable in winter. It can serve as a short-range casualty evacuation route."

The Administrative Supervisor nodded. "Class B backup route. Add it to the records."

The Blackpine Recorder