I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 421 A new chapter
With a new king, the Kingdom of Bagnia burst forth with astonishing vitality after the harvest festival, with all sectors recovering, transforming, and even growing wildly at an unprecedented speed.

Agriculture, mining, industry, education, culture, and commerce...

Farming enthusiasts are ecstatic. Whether they enjoy actual farming, running factories, engaging in trade, or becoming officials, they have plenty of opportunities.

Just like the reform and opening up of the People's Republic of China, it was riding a wave of opportunity!

However, just when everything was thriving, Chris did not forget the man-made disaster in Suvano. The Holy Army of the Cult of Machines was also being formed at an accelerated pace and was finally completed in the middle of autumn.

……

The monotonous yet powerful clanging of wheels against the rails, the heavy panting of the steam locomotive piercing the thin walls of the carriages, and the distinctive astringent smell of coal smoke permeated the third-class carriages on their way from Votradnoy to Tavitsky.

Lydia sat by the window, the window frame covered with a fine layer of soot.

Outside the window, the once familiar, fertile fields were rapidly receding and blurring, replaced by more and more unfamiliar scenes.

Factory chimneys billowing black smoke pierce the gray sky like giant tombstones, mine pits exposing reddish-brown soil resemble scars on the earth, and there are also neatly planned but cold and rigid outlines of industrial towns.

Her destination for this trip was the front-line command post of the Cult of the Machine God's Holy Army.

The world is impermanent.

These four words, like the shadow of a telephone pole flashing past the window, cast ripples on the calm lake of her heart.

Just two months ago, she was the ultimate representative of goddesses on earth.

Now, however, she has become a prisoner of the Kingdom of Bagnia.

However, the despair brought about by the huge drop in status did not consume her.

Because when Lydia prayed to the goddess, a faint yet incredibly real warm current, perceptible only to her, quietly gathered at her fingertips.

Like spring snow melting and seeping into parched soil, this force exists gently.

It could no longer ripen an entire wheat field, but it was enough to allow a withered seed that she had unintentionally brought to the windowsill to stubbornly sprout an almost invisible tender green shoot in the coal dust-filled window crack.

At that moment, Lydia understood.

The goddess did not give up on her.

Therefore, when the judge announced that, according to King Chris's decree, she had to join the Mechanicus's crusade and serve the kingdom in the name of sinners, Lydia accepted the trial very calmly.

The train rolled over a bumpy section of roadbed, causing the carriages to shake violently.

Lydia instinctively reached out to protect the tiny bit of greenery in the bonsai plant on the windowsill.

Her face showed no anger, no sadness, only a tranquility that had settled after being battered by huge waves, like the deep sea after a storm.

A familiar, warm vitality emanated from her fingertips, soothing the tiny bud and comforting herself as well.

Life is unpredictable, and fate has cast her off her familiar path, but her faith has not wavered. It has simply changed its form, becoming more resilient and more reserved.

She was no longer the high priestess standing on the altar receiving worship, but became a solitary pilgrim, an explorer carrying the unextinguished flame of the goddess and stepping into the steel jungle.

Tavitsky's silhouette appeared and disappeared on the horizon, and Lydia began to bow her head and pray silently.

……

The forward command post of the Mechanicus Crusade was located in Tavitsky, or more precisely, in an old warehouse next to the newly built train station.

The interior of this building, converted from an old warehouse, is less like a sacred religious temple and more like an overloaded dispatch center.

The air was filled with a complex smell, and the faces of the people coming and going showed anxiety and haste.

Huge maps hung on the walls of the warehouse, crudely marked with red and blue pencils indicating marching routes and supply points. Pens and papers were scattered on the ground, and a few empty cans lay in a corner, escaping the cleaning staff's sweeping.

At the heart of all this chaos, Diurem, the Minister of Transport of the Kingdom of Bagnia and also the High Sage of the Cult of Machines, was deeply entrenched in a large iron office chair piled high with documents, his hands furiously scratching his already messy hair as if trying to pull all his troubles out of his scalp.

"Aaaaaah... Oh my god, oh my god!"

He let out a suppressed growl, like a steam engine about to explode, roaring as it reached its limit.

"Five days! Only five days left before the Holy Expeditionary Army has to set off, damn it..."

The huge oak table in front of him, probably the only thing in the entire command center that still reflected a sage's dignity, was now submerged in a sea of ​​papers.

These are the players' nicknames, piled up like a mountain, each representing a headache-inducing problem.

The players' problems are complex.

The complexity lies in their unpredictability; their thought processes are erratic and their behavioral patterns are difficult to grasp.

For example, there are several reports in front of Diu Ni Rem.

One complaint came from a local resident, a member of the Blue Flag Army, who said his cow had been stolen and that the thieves had held a barbecue party in his cowshed that same night, with more than a dozen of their accomplices participating.

Guess who did this?

Diu Ni Rem didn't want to guess, so he directly wrote his comments at the end of the document, ordering the cattle thief to compensate the owner with three times the market price of a healthy cow.

Besides stealing cattle, some people were even trying to resell weapons, selling the equipment issued to them by the Holy Crusade on the black market. Reselling weapons wasn't the most outrageous thing; some were even reselling Holy Crusade ranks to NPCs... Such things truly opened Diu Ni Rem's eyes, while also making his temples throb.

So much so that Diu Ni Rem was thinking, should we send some of the more restless players out first, let them be the vanguard, and let them die a few times, maybe they'll behave themselves?

Besides the players, the NPCs also have problems.

Thinking of this, Diu Ni Rem took out a roster, searched for a while, and then pressed his finger heavily on Lydia's name, leaving a sweaty fingerprint.

"Lydia...the High Priestess of the Church of the Goddess of Agriculture..."

His brows furrowed into a tight knot.

Her identity was too sensitive. Before Lydia arrived in Tavitsky by train, the people of the Church of the Goddess of Agriculture had secretly contacted Diu Ni Rem several times.

Besides the obvious troubles, Rem had concerns about Lydia herself.

After joining the Holy Expeditionary Force, will she incite the followers of the goddess of agriculture to do something?
Could she become a major destabilizing factor in the military?
Will players use her as a story NPC and cause some trouble?

He flipped through Lydia's file with frustration.

The trial record was simple: by royal decree, he was forced into service.

The latest report mentions that she was unusually calm during the transfer, and even... used magic to cultivate a seed on the train window sill?
"Tsk... He can even use divine magic?"

Rem's eyes flickered.

This is unexpected news; the goddess of agriculture hasn't completely abandoned her?
I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing.

He leaned back in his chair, his bloodshot eyes fixed on the rotating blades of the ceiling fan, as if it could fan away his troubles.

Countless thoughts raced through my mind: Should I place her in the core command center?

No, it's too conspicuous and too dangerous; it's like having a ticking time bomb next to you.

Should they be crammed into the most dangerous vanguard commando unit?

That would be too deliberate, and if she really died, the followers of the Goddess of Agriculture might cause an uproar. Although Chris suppressed the church, it did not disappear from the Kingdom of Bagnia.

The capital church is gone, but the one in Hegland is still there.

Should we hand over this NPC to the players for management?

Forget it, who knows what kind of trouble those guys will cause? She might end up being elected as the leader of the resistance by the players the next day!

"Headache...it's a fucking headache..."

Rem rubbed his temples.

Time ticked by, and the commotion outside the command post grew louder and louder. New players were getting familiar with the environment, NPCs were collecting equipment, and the steam train was unloading cargo. The sounds of metal clashing, shouting, and steam hissing blended into a chaotic symphony.

The sound pounded on his nerves like a hammer.

Finally, he sat up abruptly, a weary yet resolute glint in his eyes. He grabbed a thick red pencil, forcefully circled Lydia's name, and then scribbled a few words in the blank space beside it.

+Logistics Team - Unofficial Support Personnel - Non-combat Order - No Specific Duties - Handled Lightly - Under Close Observation+
After finishing writing, he felt as if a heavy stone had been lifted from his shoulders, or as if he had shirked a responsibility. He let out a long, weary breath, like the last breath of a seriously wounded soldier before death, heavy and lingering.

"So be it……"

Diu Ni Rem casually tossed the roster into the nearby document basket labeled "Pending - Low Priority," letting it sink to the bottom of the pile of papers.

"Out of sight, out of mind. Put her in the logistics department, far from my core command post. Don't give her any real power, and don't target her. Let her stay on her own. As long as she doesn't cause trouble, just pretend... she doesn't exist."

He decided to use the most bureaucratic and convenient method.

Cool down, avoid contact, don't pay attention, don't irritate.

This allows Lydia to remain invisible within a vast and chaotic logistical system.

This is the least risky solution and the one that best aligns with his current core objective of "getting the people out on time."

As for Lydia's opinions and thoughts... he really didn't have the energy or interest to delve into them right now.

"Report! The equipment list for the third supply depot overlaps with the supply materials for the fourth supply depot!"

A staff officer rushed in, sweating profusely, and shouted.

With a wail, Lydia buried her face in the thick pile of documents again, as if trying to temporarily shut Lydia out of all trouble.

The gears of the Holy Expedition must be set in motion, and as for one small impurity, as long as it does not affect the overall operation, let it remain in an inconspicuous corner for the time being.

He still has more than five thousand more pressing problems to solve.

Outside the window, Tavitsky's massive chimney spewed black smoke, like a prelude to the restless activity of the troops.

Meanwhile, the train from Votradnoy was slowly pulling into the bustling Tavitsky platform, puffing out thick smoke.

Lydia, clutching her simple little bonsai tree that had once sprouted greenery on the windowsill, calmly followed the flow of people off the train and officially stepped into this city permeated with heat and desolation.

(End of this chapter)