The hall fell silent for a few moments.
Kraus held his teacup, taking a quiet sip.
The meeting room had been quiet for long enough, giving the people below ample time to calculate their options. Several leaders from the merchant associations exchanged glances, none of them willing to speak first.
The outer city nobles shifted slightly, pretending to study the tea in their cups. The older nobles from the inner city simply kept their eyelids lowered, their expressions solemn as they waited for someone else to take the lead.
Kraus was in no hurry.
Cunning as these people were, they were not stupid.
They had already guessed part of what was buried beneath Bronze City during the first ghoul disaster.
Precisely because they had guessed, they were even more reluctant to gamble their fortunes.
But guessing was one thing; whether they gambled or not depended on whether the table itself was still standing.
Finally, the oldest merchant leader could no longer bear the stifling silence. He cleared his throat, took a sip from his water glass, and spoke in a hushed tone.
“Lord Kraus, we understand everything you've said, but you must give us a bottom line on how much longer the city can hold out. If we are to provide money and men, we at least need to know which pit we're throwing them into, don't we?”
Kraus did not answer, slowly setting his teacup down.
He did not even look the man in the eye. Instead, he slowly rotated the cup half a turn on the table, as if contemplating something entirely unrelated to anyone in the room.
An outer city noble beside him chimed in, his words beating around the bush: city defense was the duty of the Nightwatchers. While they were willing to assist, they needed to see clearly how far that “assistance” would go before committing. The implication was clear—they still wanted to wait and see.
As Kraus listened, the faint curve of his lips faded slightly.
He knew these people all too well. They used “seeing clearly” as a shield, but in their bones, they were only calculating an escape route. But where was their escape? The city gates were shut, and eerie entities crawled everywhere. If they really wanted to run, where could they go? When he sealed the city, he had already blocked that path for them.
But he had no intention of spelling it out.
Spelling it out would only make them fly into a rage out of shame, causing more trouble. It was just a pity that his authority was not enough to convict these fellows. If only those people were here...
Kraus thought to himself.
Just as the standoff dragged on, the side door of the hall was pushed open from the outside.
A Nightwatcher walked in briskly, his boot soles scraping urgently against the stone floor. Clutching an open logbook, he looked grim. He approached Kraus and spoke in a hushed, tense voice.
“Lord Kraus, an urgent report from underground.”
Every eye on both sides of the long table instantly locked onto him.
Kraus glanced at the messenger. Instead of dismissing him to the side or telling him to lower his voice, he spoke in a flat tone.
“Speak. Speak up.”
The Nightwatcher froze for a moment, then quickly understood. He opened his logbook, raised his head, and projected his voice to the entire hall.
“First, the number of ghouls contaminated by the Forest Seed in the pipe network layer continues to rise. These infected ghouls have begun launching organized assaults and are currently attacking the temporary Bronze Blockade Line established underground. The temporary defenses won't hold for long.”
What little ambient noise remained in the hall was instantly snuffed out.
“Second, several new sinkholes have appeared in the pipe network layer. These are entirely new, not secondary collapses of the old subsidence zones. However, the old sinkholes that were previously backfilled and sealed could collapse again at any moment due to the vibrations. If all the old sinkholes rupture, the total number of collapses in the city could rise to nearly ten.”
The elderly merchant leader who had just asked for a “bottom line” froze, his water glass hovering right at his lips, unable to take a drink.
“Finally, of the newly recorded sinkholes, there are two in the inner city and two in the outer city. Including the main sinkhole at the Old Council Square, that makes five in total. Our brothers from the Holy Armored Army, the Imperial Iron Guard, and the Nightwatchers are patrolling the pipe network layer. They have applied temporary measures upon discovery, but they are only temporary. They won't hold for long.”
The Nightwatcher closed his logbook and fell silent.
The silence in the hall grew suffocatingly heavy.
The nobles seated below exchanged uneasy glances. Those who had been beating around the bush earlier now looked paler and more distressed than the last.
Five sinkholes.
Five that had already ruptured, plus the old ones that could collapse at any second, bringing the total to nearly ten.
The last ghoul disaster that had struck Bronze City was still fresh in everyone's minds.
Back then, Agglomerate ghouls had spilled out of the main sinkhole. Such things were completely beyond the capability of ordinary people to handle.
Had the Guardian not intervened, the threat to the inner city would have been far greater than to the outer city. During that crisis, thousands of residents had died in the northern and southern subsidence zones, while the inner city suffered almost zero casualties, with only the knights guarding their estates losing their lives.
And that was only because of the Nightwatchers' rapid deployment.
What about this time?
A younger outer city noble could no longer sit still. His lips trembled, and when he finally spoke, his voice was laced with panic.
“Then... how do the Nightwatchers plan to handle this?”
Kraus did not answer him.
He glanced at the messenger still standing there, and spoke. His voice was not loud, but every word carried a steady, unshakeable weight.
“Issue the orders. Several Rank 4 captains are to lead their teams immediately to each sinkhole and block the ghouls from spilling out as much as possible. Glock is already at the main sinkhole at the Old Council Square. Send others to cover the remaining holes.”
As he spoke, he did not spare a single glance at either side of the long table.
His stance was crystal clear: the Nightwatchers had already thrown in everything they had.
The messenger saluted and turned to leave, but after a step, he hesitated and turned back.
“Lord Kraus, we don't have enough Rank 4 captains.”
His voice held a trace of stiffness.
“Right now, we can barely manage five locations. Once the sinkholes expand to ten, we won't have nearly enough manpower. Furthermore, new collapses are highly likely to pop up at any moment. We won't be able to stop them, let alone repair them in time.”
Kraus did not answer immediately.
His gaze slowly drifted away from the messenger, sweeping across both sides of the long table.
He did not need to say a word; the people below were already panicking on their own.
If they continued to play dead, a sinkhole might open right at their doorsteps one day, and no one would survive. But if they truly threw their fortunes into the mix, it would require a massive amount of wealth and power, which would cut deep into the marrow of these mid-sized families.
There were only two paths before them.
Either continue to play dead and wait for the collapses to come knocking on their doors.
Or cough up their share and tie themselves completely to the fate of Bronze City.
While everyone else looked miserable, Count Helmut was the only one who let out a slow, unhurried snort.
Seated at the head of the long table, his fingers resting on the armrest, he swept a cold glance over the sweating faces below, his expression carrying a hint of displeasure.
The outer city nobles and merchant leaders followed his gaze, and they instantly understood.
This time, there was no escaping.
The Count spoke. His voice was not loud, but it carried enough weight to dominate the entire hall.
“I will dispatch a portion of my private knights first.”
The moment those words landed, everyone's eyes snapped to his face.
Everyone present had heard rumors of the Count's private knights.
Their strength was comparable to the Nightwatchers, and some among them were even stronger than certain Nightwatcher captains. Though their numbers were few, the Count's willingness to commit his own forces first provided a perfect way out for everyone else.
Kraus immediately stood up.
“Lord Count is truly magnanimous, standing united with the Empire and Bronze City.” He bowed slightly toward the Count, his tone perfectly measured. “This breadth of mind is something everyone present has witnessed.”
The Count snorted, offering no reply as he simply picked up his teacup.
The people below exchanged glances, their expressions shifting rapidly. Now that even the Count had contributed, if they continued to shrink back, how could they expect to survive in this city in the future?
One of the merchant leaders was the first to steel himself, stating that he could provide a squad of men. Before his voice could fade, the outer city noble who had been playing dead also chimed in, saying his estate could gather some men as well.
One by one, they reluctantly declared their support.
It wasn't much.
Kraus knew very well that what these people offered was a mere pittance compared to the vast fortunes they held. Yet, he did not plan to push them any further.
Because there was no need.
It was like slicing meat with a dull knife; he just had to take his time.
As the situation in Bronze City deteriorated day by day, these people would naturally volunteer more resources and manpower to the table.
He had never cared about the meager forces they offered now; what he wanted was their commitment—an attitude that tied their fortunes inextricably to Bronze City.
Once they were bound to it, they wouldn't be able to run even if they wanted to.
Kraus sneered inwardly, though his face remained entirely expressionless.
Once everyone had finished making their pledges, he set down his teacup and stood up.
“From this day forward, the survival of Bronze City is directly linked to all of you.”
His gaze swept across every face, deliberate and unhurried.
“I trust you will all defend your homes and safeguard the Empire.”
The words sounded righteous and grand, but those listening felt a chill run down their spines. The phrase “from this day forward” was no mere politeness; it was a decree nailing their names firmly to the city walls of Bronze City.
Kraus withdrew his gaze.
“Meeting adjourned.”
Everyone rose. The scraping of chairs echoed through the hall as several people rushed toward the exit, their minds likely racing with calculations on how to mobilize their men once they returned.
Kraus spoke once more.
“One more thing.”
Those who had made it halfway to the door stopped in their tracks.
“Starting today, all events occurring within Bronze City will be publicly posted at the Nightwatchers branch. If any of you wish to know anything, you may come to the branch to read them.”
The moment those words fell, an inner city noble frowned.
“Why can't they be posted in the inner city?”
Kraus glanced at him.
He said nothing.
The noble opened his mouth, but swallowed his words. Bowing his head, he quickly walked out of the hall.
As the doors closed, the echoing footsteps in the hall faded into nothingness.
Kraus stood before the empty long table, not leaving immediately.
Squeezing out these meager fortunes was merely buying them a little more time.
The true lifeline of the city did not lie in this room, nor was it in the hands of these nobles.
It lay underground, at the top of the hundred-meter-tall main tower of the Polymath Tower, where two entities who could not destroy each other were locked together. One refused to tell him the truth, and the other did not stand on his side at all.
He would not mention a single word of this to the people who had just left.
Kraus picked up the cold tea on the table, took one last sip, and set it back down.
He turned and walked toward his office.
Outside, the night was pitch-black. The lights of the branch office turned on one after another, and the muffled, hurried footsteps of Nightwatchers running back and forth echoed from the end of the corridor.
Urgent reports from underground continued to pour in, one after another.
Far from the chaos gripping Bronze City, Lu Yuan and his convoy had already covered nearly half of their journey.
Rate on N.U.
