Faol brought Herad up to the cathedral's bell tower to look down over the prosperous city.
At a little over ten meters, the bell tower could hardly be called tall.
But it was still one of the taller buildings in the city.
Even in a famous metropolis like Stratholme, buildings over ten meters tall were rare.
Though the city had few towering buildings, the view still made quite an impression.
Looking out from this height was still quite striking.
Faol pointed at the sprawling city districts and began introducing them with pride.
"This city has a population of just over six hundred thousand. Its residents are also of high caliber, and most own considerable assets."
Seeing that Herad did not seem to understand what this meant, he deliberately explained in detail.
"With enough people and assets, a city can arm tens of thousands of militia, or even more, at any time."
Of course, Herad knew perfectly well what prosperous residents meant.
People had money to spare for weapons and equipment, and could undertake some routine training.
When their survival was at stake, they could defend their homes and country at any time.
But what use would such hastily armed militia be against elite troops?
Besides, the person who would strike at them was the kingdom's only prince, its future king.
Who would dare draw a sword against their future king?
Herad looked at the prosperous city before him and shook his head helplessly.
"Your Grace, everything you've shown me is meaningless! I will show you the tragic fate that awaits Stratholme!"
As he spoke, he took out an Hourglass and turned it upside down.
As the sand imbued with the power of time began to flow, Herad cast a spell and drew Faol into a Time Illusion.
This was a