Having figured out the crucial connection, Veylin's eyes shone with excitement.
He abruptly turned toward Prince Wilander.
"Your Highness, do you think the elves of the Evergreen Council possess some kind of strategic spell that regulates temperature?"
The Royal Capital's chief mages and court alchemists standing behind the prince rarely spoke with Veylin, but even they could not help murmuring their agreement.
"Lord Veylin's theory makes sense," an elderly mage said, stroking his beard as though recalling something. "The Magic Association's ancient texts do contain scattered references to the elves possessing a spell capable of influencing the weather."
"I've heard similar rumors," another alchemist added immediately. "They say certain forbidden areas of the Evergreen Council remain as warm as spring even in winter, so they can store delicate magical materials."
Hearing the experts' corroboration, Wilander's eyes lit up. "You mean..."
"I need to return to Miport and confirm it with the elves," Veylin said. "If they really possess climate magic, we'll have a way to create extreme cold on the battlefield and freeze those Black Steel Constructs into ice sculptures."
Ola slapped his thigh excitedly. "Brilliant! Those iron lumps won't even be able to move. Our Stukas can drop bombs from above like they're smashing targets!"
"That's not all." Veylin looked at Northern Foothills Province on the sand table. "If we can master climate magic, we can also create blizzards in Blackrock County, block the mountain passes, and cut off Marquis Ironwall's supply lines. Then those turtles hiding in their fortresses will either freeze or starve."
Smiles spread across the generals' faces.
The stalemate that had given them such a headache moments earlier suddenly showed a glimmer of hope.
"Should we leave now, then?" Ola asked.
"No." Veylin shook his head. "You and the Stuka Squadron will stay here. The