When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist

Horn indeed did not expect that the thief locksmith Harbin mentioned was actually a female thief.

The thief named Haimodin looks around seventeen or eighteen years old, but stands about as tall as Harbin the Dwarf.

In the dead of winter, she wore a leather vest as if she was immune to the cold, showing off her arm muscles.

In contrast, Harbin next to her was wearing a thick coat.

Both had bruised noses and swollen faces, indicating they'd already fought before coming here.

"I know exactly why you called me," Haimodin said bluntly, "If you can find the maker, I can design any kind of lock you want."

"What you mentioned about clockwork and gear machinery, she's skilled in that too," Harbin worried that Horn might think he was bluffing, so he hurriedly took a hourglass-shaped object from the box and placed it on the table.

Horn widened his eyes as he watched the small ball swing back and forth on the stand and heard the ticking sound of gears turning.

Isn't that a simple pendulum clock?

"I use this to keep time." The girl glared at Harbin resentfully, then took the pendulum clock back from the table, "It's just a crude little toy."

But that wasn't a crude little toy; Horn could see how intricate it was, how much time it took, and how much thought Haimodin clearly put into it.

Compared to Harbin's crude handling of it, Haimodin's movements were much gentler.

"Alright, you're hired." Horn decisively took out a contract, "A weekly salary of 5 Dinar, the same as a stonemason apprentice, alright?"

"I want 10 Dinar, and I can also help you gather information and steal intelligence."

"I think I don't need you to do those things." Horn thought for a moment, "I'll give you 8 Dinar, including room and board."

Unexpectedly, Haimodin agreed readily, "Alright."

As she said this, she pressed a fingerprint onto the contract.

"In the next couple of days, pack your luggage, because we need to leave the day after tomorrow, and you must be at the camp by the morning at the latest."

"No need." Haimodin showed Horn the small box she carried, "My luggage is right here, ready to go anytime."

"Why are you in such a hurry to leave?"

"There's a war about to break out; if you're not urgent, I am."

"...True, oh by the way, Harbin, you'll stay at my place these two days, tomorrow and the day after, your dad happens to be coming to deliver the sword."

After sending off Haimodin and Harbin, Horn finally could sit down steadily and proceed with today's schedule.

Opening the alchemy products inventory, Horn took out a "Swamp Town Industrial Planning and Vision," and began writing swiftly while transcribing.

This plan could be called Horn's version of a five-year plan, though it's just a draft and framework; specifics would have to wait until detailed investigations at Swamp Town.

As time passed, Horn's writing speed slowed down until he eventually stopped altogether.

Having waited for this alchemy inventory for so long, he should be pleased, but the more he wrote, the less he felt like continuing and instead took out another list from his pocket.

It was a list of those following him to Swamp Town; he had talked to everyone on this list, and most agreed to go with him.

Except for Jeanne.

This little girl seemed to have some wires crossed, insisting on staying at Joan of Arc Castle to lead the refugees against the Church's army.

It was a task originally given to Thomas and Madlan by Horn. Why are you getting involved?

Horn leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples.

Jeanne's arc furnace steelmaking is crucial for mass production of steel, iron, and mountain copper. Her staying at Joan of Arc Castle is a significant blow to Horn's development plan.

In the "Vision," there are many processes that require Jeanne's involvement, such as the mountain copper production line and arc furnace.

Wandering around the room for a long time, Horn finally stood up and went to the door, "Duvalon, go, bring Jeanne over."

Returning to his desk, Horn poured a cup of clear water for himself to slightly ease his tense mind.

Soon, the room's door opened, and Jeanne peeked half of her head inside, "Brother, are you looking for me?"

"Jeanne, sit down."

Jeanne walked over to Horn, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

"Ahem..." Horn cleared his throat, "Jeanne, have you ever thought, one day, people could ride machines moving at high speed to enter the city, in such a world..."

"Brother, as I said," Jeanne interrupted Horn, "I'm of no great value in Swamp Town; the refugees here need me more."

"Swamp Town needs you more, Jeanne; it's the starting point of everything."

"Why can't Joan of Arc Castle be the starting point of everything?"

Horn originally wanted to show her the "Vision," but considering how she recognized only a few words, he decided against it.

"Joan of Arc Castle is indeed a good place, with a stable military source and the Duke's alliance, but ultimately, it is not our place.

Being a bandit leads nowhere; we need to consider the future and not just focus on the present. The army needs a stable and loyal rear.

War is not just about fighting and killing; it's about tedious training, camping, marching, deploying troops, and logistics, none of which can do without a stable rear.

Staying at Joan of Arc Castle is like making a wedding dress for Duke Kush. The Kush family has accumulated a century of reputation that we can't replace."

There was another point that Horn did not mention. Those who initiated the uprising must face the Church's largest crackdown. In peasant uprisings, the initiator often does not win.

Considering the current situation, staying at Joan of Arc Castle and cooperating with the Duke is the best choice, but from a long-term perspective, Swamp Town is the real way out.

This is the most rational and correct choice.

"Why replace them? The Duke's victory isn't the victory of Thousand River Valley?" Jeanne said angrily, "Why do you really want to leave Thousand River Valley?"

"The problem is, the Duke cannot win." Horn spread his hands, "What more can I say? Without you helping me develop the rear, these refugees are like rootless water, only to be exhausted by the Duke.

If you stay here, who will provide the refugee army with clockwork rifles?"

"I won't go."

"What's wrong with Swamp Town, what are you afraid of?"

Jeanne raised her head, wanted to say something, but swallowed it back. She silently bent her legs and rested her chin on her knees.

Curling up like a baby.

"What are you really afraid of?" The voice softened a bit, as Horn walked around the table to gently pat her shoulder.

"Brother, do you think I'm ridiculous?" Jeanne leaned her head against Horn's stomach, "I thought you were a cowardly traitor, but it turns out I'm the traitor.

I thought Danji was a self-deceiving clown, but I'm the clown.

I always stubbornly believe in the wrong things, and every time I change my mind, I pay with my life.

I don't even know whether I should stay here. I think I should, but... Brother, if we leave Thousand River Valley, do you think I'll regret it?"

Horn opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a word for a long time.

Those scenes reappeared before his eyes.

The increasingly clear license plate, the driver's increasingly terrified face, and the infinite blue sky.

The Empire was not his home country, Thousand River Valley not his hometown, Gallar not his surname. He had his own family and friends, but they were no longer here.

He was a lonely traveler in a foreign land, unable to return to the past, to Earth, to make up for those regrets, to prove the doubters wrong.

He could only move forward, to where there were magnificent palaces, endless women, and wealth without bounds.

There, he could rehabilitate Danji, establish a protection system for the elderly and children, expel the Church, and let the blue-blood orphans return home.

He could make up for present regrets, instead of being like in his previous life, forever drowning in past regrets, powerless, unable to do anything.

As long as he could attain that beautiful vision...

"Brother Horn?"

Jeanne blinked, looking somewhat bewildered as Horn suddenly hugged her tightly.

"Jeanne." Horn's words sounded in Jeanne's ear, just like two months ago on the rain-shrouded hill, "I never abandon my homeland."

Warm and moist.

Jeanne's face turned red, but she still wrapped her arms around Horn's neck.

"I know you took that marriage letter, right?"

"I, I didn't, don't talk nonsense! I, I just happened to pick it up."

Listening to Jeanne's incoherent explanation, Horn opened and closed his mouth, and finally, mechanically opened it again.

He had expected his voice to be incredibly dry, yet it now sounded overwhelmingly warm and soft, "Since I'm already a witch with no worries, can we get engaged then."

"Ah... Ah? You, you're serious?" Overwhelmed by the shocking news, Jeanne answered dazedly, "Then, what about Jia Li?"

"She's just my sister."

"But..."

"Tomorrow is Grampwen and Diya's wedding. At the wedding, we'll announce the engagement, and the wedding date will be set for the New Year Festival, what do you think?"

The New Year Festival falls on December 30 to January 2 of every Imperial Calendar year.

If all goes well, by then Horn and Jeanne will have already arrived in Swamp Town.

Watching the dazed Jeanne leave, Horn sat in the chair, staring blankly at "Swamp Town Industry Plan and Vision" before him until nightfall.

When the house fell into darkness, he took a deep breath, lit the glowing stone lamp, and picked up a quill pen to scribble on the parchment once more.