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Chapter 580: Training Ground of the Sea of Death
In the days that followed—
Just as Matthew had predicted, tens of millions of News Weeklies, with prices multiplied several times, sold out at astonishing speed.
Though officially banned from circulation, this issue was eagerly purchased by curious casters and even regular citizens.
Those that sold for more than a silver coin? News Weekly didn't bother investigating.
Their logic was simple: as long as they didn't aim for profit, no one could pin anything on them.
Within four days, they finished editing the next issue and cheerfully contacted their off-grid distributors.
The new edition revealed even more combat details about the Cole Elves.
In just half a day, millions of copies began circulating across Sevinton.
Sensing opportunity, some began distributing the papers to other Netheril Empire territories.
Within two weeks, major cities in Lodarn, Farsico, and other kingdoms also saw the News Weekly appear.
In no time, the name "News Weekly" spread across the Northern Continent on the coattails of the Cole Elves' scandal.
These seemingly inconspicuous rumors caused quite a stir across the Northern Continent.
For the first time, the people and nobles of various countries realized the Cole Elves were not as invincible as they claimed.
Nor were they the moral beacons they so often touted themselves to be.
Many nations and factions grew wary of the Cole Elves' increasingly aggressive posture.
Over hundreds of years, they had quietly annexed more than ten elven kingdoms and factions.
Yet they still claimed to be peace-loving "beacons of civilization."
The hypocrisy shattered many people's illusions.
So elves were just as worldly—no different from the humans they looked down upon.
Worse, their veil of virtue made their actions even more revolting.
Bay Territory's counterattack was ferocious—about to shatter the Cole Elves' centuries-old golden facade.
But suddenly, the situation changed drastically.
The third issue of the News Weekly mysteriously vanished.
In the west of the Netheril Empire, orc armies—thought to have been nearly eradicated—began advancing east again.
Rumors spread everywhere—
That the Netheril Empire was struggling to repel the orc invasion.
Then came explosive news from the Kingdom of Farsico:
The comatose king had been declared dead.
Princes and princesses vied for the throne. Lords and nobles nationwide entered a tense standoff.
The entire kingdom was on the brink of collapse.
In just a few days, news of the Cole Elf Kingdom disappeared entirely, replaced by widespread continental unrest.
The origin? Over a dozen greedy casters.
The Sevinton Council arrested them for violating the ban, intending to imprison them in the anti-magic prison.
But Grand Arcanist Cronorman intervened, and many other councilors and Arcanists opposed it.
The Council was forced to reduce the sentence.
The casters were exiled from Sevinton for fifty years.
Their assets were seized, leaving them penniless.
To them, this was worse than death.
These casters didn't act alone.
Friends, family, apprentices—they all suffered from the fallout.
Facing the Cole Elves and Sevinton Council's iron grip, they had little power to resist.
They were the sacrificial chickens—to warn the monkeys.
Sevinton fell eerily silent.
As the exiled casters left in disgrace, the Council's blatant favoritism and mocking from certain "dogs"—
Planted seeds of humiliation in the hearts of many casters and lords.
But no one expected—
As these exiles and their loved ones left Sevinton by just a few dozen kilometers, they were ambushed.
Legendary Spell—Meteorfall!
The magical shockwaves were strong enough for Sevinton civilians to feel.
Cronorman rushed to the scene, finding only an altar left by the Pale Church.
The Sevinton enforcers followed but found no clues in the wreckage.
Only when a rotating-duty Grand Arcanist intervened—
Using Legendary Spell—Time Rewind—they saw what happened.
The casters had indeed been struck head-on by Meteorfall!
Not even bones remained!
Cronorman declared furiously:
"There are Cole Elf spies in the Sevinton Council!"
"The Pale Church is just a scapegoat!"
"If something like this can happen so close to Sevinton—"
"Then what's to stop the Cole Elves from destroying us outright?"
His outburst turned many councilors pale.
They'd previously cooperated for profit.
But now, with lives on the line, the scraps from the Cole Elves—
Were far too little!
Even the staunchest pro-Cole councilors began to grumble:
"Why attack so close? Handle it farther away."
"Why not wait a few days until things quiet down?"
"Those folks are furious—we can't win them over again."
"This chaos makes our work impossible!"
Meanwhile, Sevinton citizens were filled with outrage.
Many publicly protested, calling it a Cole Elf attack.
Others demanded the Council investigate and provide answers.
Some extremists tried storming the Cole Elf embassy.
The Cole Elves issued a straightforward statement to the Sevinton Council:
"We, the Cole Elf Kingdom, are a peace-loving nation, committed to preserving peace across the Northern Continent. We express our concern over Sevinton's attack by cult forces."
"We are willing to deepen cooperation with the Netheril Empire and strengthen our millennia-old friendship..."
"We propose joint development of a large mithril vein found in the New World..."
With this offer, Sevinton's pro-Cole councilors worked swiftly to "stabilize" the city.
As long as most Arcanists and lords remained calm, Sevinton was the Council's to rule.
In time, Sevinton regained its "peace."
Councilor Kaledor, proud of his handiwork, said to a stunned Echan:
"See? That's humanity. Always chasing short-term gain."
"In a few decades, this will be forgotten—or those who remember will be dead."
"The next generation won't even know it happened."
"With just a little cost, we can make those fools rewrite history for us..."
"Soon, all of humanity will become what we want them to be..."
"More obedient, more submissive—our cannon fodder..."
"Slaves who talk, work willingly, and gladly exploit themselves..."
"Even the entire Netheril Empire will become nourishment for the Cole Elf Kingdom's rise..."
Watching Kaledor's calm face, a chill ran down Echan's spine.
Such manipulation was more terrifying than any army.
Then he realized—this was war. Nation against nation. Race against race.
He disliked such means—but couldn't deny their effectiveness.
If they kept the Cole Elves strong, why not use them?
He now saw clearly—the Cole Elf Kingdom's power wasn't just military or magical.
Their "dog-training" prowess was a power too!
May 15.
Bay Territory.
Lord's Manor.
Reading the latest Arcane Daily, Matthew marveled at the articles on the western front and Farsico's chaos:
"Told you—they've no bottom line when it comes to profit."
Cronorman stroked his chin thoughtfully, not angry—just contemplative:
"The Cole Elves' infiltration of the Council is terrifying..."
He recalled several Grand Arcanists who'd only broken through after 'studying' in the Cole Elf Kingdom.
The pressure weighed heavily on him.
His people were all spies!
Not only unhelpful—they'd drag him down.
And possibly betray him at a critical moment.
Cronorman noticed Matthew's calm smile and asked in surprise:
"Where will you place them? If it's Bay Territory, that's too dangerous..."
The Cole Elves wouldn't tolerate these 'loose ends'.
If they surfaced here—
The Elves would go to war to erase them.
Matthew smiled gently:
"They need to learn first. Bay Territory isn't like other places..."
"If they can't adapt, we won't keep them."
Cronorman nodded deeply:
"That's how it should be. Without rules, there's no order. You saving them is already a great kindness."
Matthew appreciated Cronorman not digging further.
Bay Territory had finally grown strong.
The Cole Elves casually using Legendary Spells deeply troubled Matthew.
He resolved to accelerate military development.
A stirring announcement spread through Bay Territory:
"The month-long preparation for war guidance missions is over. They begin today."
"All high-tier adventurers, after proper training, may participate."
"Standard rewards are 300% of regular missions."
"The top 1,000 contributors will earn a chance to step onto the extraordinary path!"
Through magical broadcasts, street holo-screens, adventurer halls, and notices, the news reached every corner of Bay Territory.
The long-awaited surprise became reality in this moment.
Over 2,000 high-tier adventurers signed up immediately, receiving the first surprise many others envied.
A bottle of diluted Lesser Water of Life!
Marked effect: heals severe injuries!
It's well known that in large-scale battles, direct deaths are relatively few.
More often, deaths result from delayed treatment, worsening conditions, and untended serious wounds.
Drinking such a potion at the critical moment can truly save a life.
Bay Territory's generosity reassured many high-tier adventurers.
They would undergo final training and integration, forming more effective combat teams, then be deployed together to the military fortress where Annie was stationed.
The exclusive requirement of being high-tier to accept the quest greatly motivated Bay Territory's low- and mid-tier adventurers.
They began training harder, eagerly accepting more quests, earning more merit, and learning more skills and techniques.
Unknowingly, training camps across Bay Territory began incorporating more advanced combat techniques.
Adventurers coming to learn found more options and further potential growth.
While adventurers stayed busy, Bay Territory's soldiers didn't rest either.
They trained harder and headed to more dangerous combat zones for live combat training.
With over six million gold invested monthly, Bay Territory's soldiers grew stronger by the day.
Beyond the harsh army drills—
The second batch of 10,000 trained navy soldiers boarded 20 newly-built steel magic warships.
Escorting 20 transport ships and goods worth tens of millions in gold, they sailed mightily toward Farsico.
The lords, princes, and princesses frantically recruiting troops were willing to pay more than triple for war supplies.
The voyage lasted a week.
Matthew was disappointed that no Wokou pirates targeted the second convoy.
Otherwise, he could've summoned the Leviathans and given the attackers a nasty surprise.
Despite previous success, Matthew didn't grow complacent.
He chose a safer method—sea trading.
With Farsico's chaos expected to last a long time, Matthew had no desire to get involved, only to make a hefty profit.
The trading party was a fleet of nobles.
They had 40 transport ships and over 20 warships.
Upon seeing Bay Territory's 20 steel magic warships, they happily completed the trade.
The process was simple.
Warships kept their distance. Goods on transport ships were inspected and counted.
Once quality and quantity were confirmed, the exchange proceeded ship for ship at agreed prices.
The trade concluded in just half a day.
Even after parting, no danger occurred.
Seeing the cargo holds full of supplies, Archbishop Coleman finally relaxed.
He looked across the deck at Matthew and Elio, who had finished their checks, and his wrinkled face beamed:
"Cooperating with Bay Territory has been a real pleasure."
"Would you be willing to visit Her Highness the Third Princess's estate and attend a welcome banquet?"
With over 8 million gold in profit, Matthew thought of the high-quality Holy Light Stones, smiled and shook his head, showing regret:
"We'd love to join Her Highness's banquet, but managing so much cargo is quite stressful."
"Maybe next trade, we can enjoy the customs of Farsico."
I'm here to make money!
You want me to invest?
Maybe even provide capital? Not happening!
That's not how business works!
Let's stick to financial exchanges!
Archbishop Coleman sighed at Matthew's polite refusal, but wasn't surprised.
Bay Territory was far away—Farsico's war had nothing to do with him.
No need to wade into those muddy waters!
Waving goodbye, Matthew's smile faded as he turned. Under Elio's amused gaze, he said:
"Next trade, don't act so quickly. Raise prices to four times. Make them pay more Holy Light Stones for the difference."
Seeing Elio's stunned expression, Matthew patiently explained:
"Don't worry. Others will charge over four times next time—and might not even deliver."
Thinking of the convoys and occasional shipwrecks they'd passed, Elio nodded solemnly:
"That extra markup can be our risk fee. I'll convince them."
Matthew, of course, let Elio handle things freely, combining both fleets.
Then, they sailed boldly toward the heart of the Sea of Death.
Seeing their route, Archbishop Coleman shook his head and told his hopeful subordinates:
"They're wary of us too. Must be reinforcements on the way."
"Her Highness the Third Princess mustn't be endangered. Completing the trade was already beyond expectations. Let's go."
As their ships departed, beneath the waters nearby—
Little Menglan smacked her lips in disappointment.