The Eternal Night Town Contract

"Oh, right." Dafulin suddenly remembered something and took out a beautifully bound parchment scroll from her document bag. "This is the Lord's Contract of Eternal Night Town."

Su Ming took the parchment scroll, which was carefully wrapped with ribbons and had gilded patterns along the edges. He unfolded it and found that it was a formal territory decree, already stamped with the jade seal of the King of Cold Mountain.

But when his gaze fell upon the contents of the accompanying marriage certificate, his brow immediately furrowed. "Only by marrying this Viscount Gennazio can one acquire ownership?"

"Currently, in name and law, Eternal Night Town belongs to Gennazio Genazio," Dafulin explained helplessly. "Going through the formal process of stripping him of his title and re-granting the land is almost an impossible task. But if he marries first—" she made a subtle gesture, "And then 'unfortunately becomes widowed,' ownership of the land will naturally transfer."

"So, we still have to kill this viscount?"

"It's no longer needed." Dafulin surprisingly took out another official document from the file bag, already stamped with her seal. It was a fully completed death certificate, with Gennazio Genazio's name clearly listed, and the date marked as one month later.

"Gennazio passed away a year ago, but we've been keeping it quiet," she explained.

"Does it really need to be so complicated and troublesome?" Su Ming said unhappily.

Dafulin quickly explained, "Even a king can't do everything as he pleases." Her tone was sincere. "Following traditional rules and finding loopholes can avoid a lot of trouble."

"Alright," Su Ming sighed.

Su Ming continued to carefully read the contract terms and suddenly discovered an additional condition: the woman in the marriage must be a nobleman recognized by the human nation and be able to provide bloodline certificates certified by an authoritative institution; otherwise, she would still be unable to inherit the territory.

"Is this yet another of your so-called 'traditional rules' from Cold Mountain?" Su Ming raised his head.

"This is indeed necessary," Katharine interjected at the opportune moment, trying to smooth things over for the princess. "In any country, the right to inherit land is only open to the nobility. A wife of commoner birth cannot inherit land even if her husband dies."

"The protection regulations for the aristocratic circle, I see—" Su Ming nodded thoughtfully.

He initiated Mind Synchronization and told Zijin everything.

[Don't worry about it, this was all within my expectations.] Zijin's voice was calm, showing no surprise whatsoever. [Just accept the contract and agree.]

Upon hearing this, Su Ming frowned again. Zijin said she had long anticipated this outcome, so—

1. [Are you planning to sign this marriage contract?]

[It wasn't me, I'm not a nobleman.] Zijin explained, [This was a trap I set. A name that King Cold Mountain will regret will appear on his betrothal agreement with Viscount Gennazio.]

"[What kind of trap?]" Su Ming asked curiously, but inexplicably felt a sense of relief.

"You'll find out soon enough!" Zijin said, her cheerful laughter echoing through the mental link.

****

When it was lunchtime, Su Ming chose to dine at the restaurant in Sea of Divine Grace. This spacious, palatial restaurant was fully equipped, with its storage room filled with all kinds of high-quality ingredients and its cooking area fully equipped with all kinds of kitchen utensils.

The logistics team from the Final Bone Mad Machines moved over and prepared meals for the workers on site.

Out of respect for the food culture of this other world, Su Ming carefully selected a few identifiable ingredients: several yellowish-brown tuberous plants with skins as rough as old tree bark; several pale blue-capped fungi emitting a faint fragrance of photinia flowers; and several pieces of bright green pork chops with distinct muscle texture, which looked, seemed, and possibly were very fresh.

He carried a gilded-rimmed plate and found a seat at the long table.

Su Ming carefully tasted them all, and his brows finally relaxed. Although some of the seasonings had an unfamiliar spiciness, they were all within an acceptable range, and some of the sauces even left him wanting more.

As the lunch break bell rang, members of various work groups poured into the cafeteria. Soon, a long queue formed at the food pick-up area. Seeing Su Ming also eating, the members respectfully bowed and greeted him.

Good day, Chairman! Enjoy your meal!

"Good morning, President! You look great today!"

Su Ming noticed that not only was he being the center of attention, but he could also sense that the other members were somewhat reserved. The atmosphere was completely different from when they were at the Sheltered Valley camp.

"It seemed quite natural before," Su Ming asked Hansite, somewhat puzzled.

"Mr. Su, you didn't kill hundreds of people with thermobaric bombs before, nor did you single-handedly fight the Fate Manipulator and the Azure Sky Battle Puppet Corps, capture the Fate Manipulator alive, or smash the Azure Sky Battle Puppet Corps into ice shards," Hansite replied. "Now, everyone looks at you like a walking statue of a war god."

"I see." Su Ming rubbed his chin. He felt the process was actually quite simple, at least the difficulty didn't match its appearance.

However, he finally understood why Zijin didn't stay in the common area to eat.

She had just achieved a Saint Rank pentakill, completely annihilating the Radiant Chanter and the Choir. To outsiders, this was an extremely terrifying thing.

Sea of Divine Grace has a small restaurant for the use of the upper class. But when Su Ming pushed open the door, the scene in front of him was nauseating. On the exquisite carved dining table were various instruments of torture: dried bloodstains hung on the rusty iron chains, several strangely shaped locks were scattered on the ground, several hands with barbs were nailed to the wall, and there was even an iron maiden covered with spikes in the corner.

Su Ming didn't want to dwell on the twisted hobbies of those deceased "big shots," but the chilling dining environment completely killed his appetite. He shook his head slightly and turned to leave the eerie room.

****

Su Ming had no intention of disturbing everyone's meal, so he simply took his tray and moved to a watchtower near the outer wall.

The top of the watchtower offered an extremely wide view. Su Ming leaned against the waist-high stone retaining wall, enjoying his lunch while admiring the distant scenery.

The weather was fine, and the bright sunshine felt warm on people.

The climate on the southern Dome Mountains is significantly milder than that on the frigid northern side. The mountain range has gentle undulations and soft lines, exuding a graceful and beautiful charm.

Below the snow line on this side, life thrives, with dark green pines and silvery-white birches growing intertwined, adorning this icy world with varying shades of green. Several unidentified birds hop among the trees, occasionally uttering clear calls, adding a touch of liveliness to the Tranquility mountain scenery.

Suddenly, a moving figure entered Su Ming's line of sight. It was a slender female figure walking from the direction of the Divine Might Prison. Although she was still far away, her specially made boots were particularly eye-catching on the snow—they had protrusions at the front and back, and their shape was similar to snow boots on Earth.

"It should be a member of the Feather Race," Su Ming thought to himself, narrowing his eyes.

Currently, there are only two Feather Race here: Archbishop Stanton and his attendant. Therefore, this female Feather Race should be the one named Yuya.

Yuya was still dragging someone along as she continued walking towards the outermost area.

****

Su Ming swallowed the last bite of food and was about to step forward to ask when a voice came from behind him:

Good afternoon, Lord Su!

Turning around, the speaker was tall and slender, initially resembling a human, but upon closer inspection, the differences were obvious. His limbs were so thin they were almost fragile, and his shoulders were much narrower than a human's. His hair was more like feathers than strands.

What was particularly striking was his face—a high, arched nose that concealed his nostrils; no external ears, replaced by fine auditory hairs; and eyes with tubular structures like those of a raptor. These eyes had a narrow field of vision and could barely move, but possessed exceptional farsightedness and the ability to distinguish details.

Su Ming's gaze moved downwards, noticing that the other person was also wearing those signature custom-made boots.

"Archbishop Stanton?" Su Ming asked.

The other person gave a graceful bow. "It is I."

"... You didn't look like this yesterday?" Su Ming asked, puzzled. He clearly remembered that Stanton, whom he had seen yesterday during the cleanup of the battlefield, looked almost identical to an ordinary human.

"For us Feather Race living in human society," makeup is an essential "etiquette," Stanton explained. "We must wear special clothes to adjust and conceal our body shape, cover our head feathers with wigs, and use makeup props to mimic human facial features."

This reminded Su Ming of Quasimodo, the Northern Lands noble Feather Race Magister she encountered in the Battle of Peacock Gully. At the time, he looked no different from a human, but now she realized that he had been carefully "disguised."

"Is it really necessary to go this far?" Su Ming frowned.

"To appear in the church, in aristocratic circles, these so-called 'high society' places," Stanton said with a wry smile, "Is a 'etiquette' that our Feather Race must abide by, otherwise it will be considered offensive and disrespectful." He added, his tone becoming more relaxed, "But it's much more comfortable away from these places. Walking on the street in my true form, at most I'll be surrounded by curious children, as long as I avoid those 'high-class' places."

This explanation reminded Su Ming of the Feather Race hunters he and Frostflame Festival Nightshade had encountered in the small village. At the time, he thought the Feather Race was divided into different subspecies, but now he realized that they were all the same race, just without any disguise.

As the two talked, Yuya had already dragged the figure a sufficient distance away. She released the rope in her hands and slammed the weak body heavily onto the snow.

Su Ming then noticed that the person who had been released was also a woman, with her left arm severed at the shoulder, and the bandage wrapped around the wound was soaked with dark red blood.

She lay blankly on the snow, her unfocused eyes like those of a newborn animal. Only after confirming that she had regained her freedom did she shakily prop herself up and run off into the distance.

Her identity was also easily confirmed: Sabina, the warden of the Divine Might Prison.