Above The Sky
Chapter 33 - 33 31 Labyrinth

33: Chapter 31 Labyrinth 33: Chapter 31 Labyrinth The Governor of Harrison Port was held by Viscount Grant of the Empire, appointed directly by the previous Imperial Emperor.

This had been a source of pride for the Grant family in the past, but things had grown complicated since the new emperor’s ascension to the throne.

Since the Dark Moon upheaval that occurred decades ago until now, Harrison Port and the entire Southern Immigrant District had been forgotten, even deliberately overlooked.

Even eight years ago, when Harrison Port was struck by a storm so destructive it was nearly a natural disaster, the Imperial Capital and the Governor of the Southern Province didn’t show the slightest concern.

The theoretical aid equipment and construction funds were long overdue, leaving city wall works and some peripheral streets in the port unrepaired to this day.

Yet this did not prevent the viscount’s estate from being the most luxurious and extravagant building in the entire port.

Elder Prude strode past a garden adorned with various vibrant plants.

In this courtyard constructed of marble, there were also several sublimation plants with special functions, blooming in brilliant colors, extremely captivating under the caress of the breeze, and emitting a refreshing fragrance that cleared the mind.

Elder Prude paid no attention to it.

Guided by the attendant, this short-statured but robustly built elder of the White Folks came inside the courtyard.

Even at noon, one could smell the pungent aroma of wine, Viscount Grant was yet again holding a banquet.

Elder Prude could even see the flickering candlelight – the pale yellow candles contained a mix of frankincense and spirit-focusing herb ash, a meditation candle that aids sublimation cultivation, each worth more than seventeen Taler silver coins.

“Ah, there you are…

Ah, Elder Prude.”

Holding a slender red-haired beauty in his arms, Viscount Grant was clearly drunk.

This nobleman with dark brown hair and flushed face looked young, his face without a single wrinkle, yet he was almost sixty years old.

As a Sublimator, he could remain at his peak for a longer period.

At that moment, he pushed away the beauty at his side, eliciting a coy protest from her.

The viscount laughed and patted her, then waved at Elder Prude, beckoning the civic deputy officer to sit down, “Sit, have a drink, I’ve been waiting for you.”

“It would be impolite to decline.”

Elder Prude bowed slightly and then took a seat opposite the other man.

There was no civil officer in Harrison Port.

His role as deputy civil officer primarily stemmed from his responsibilities in maintaining Viscount Grant’s private army and his status as an elder of the White Folks.

While working for the viscount, he also oversaw the governance of the White Folks community.

Elder Prude glanced at the banquet table in the middle of the courtyard, which had the usual fish stews and seafood common to coastal cities, along with plenty of pork chops and venison.

In front of the viscount, there was also a plate of lamb chops sprinkled with meat sauce and spices, and the basket was filled with fine whole wheat brown bread, giving off a fragrant wheat aroma.

But this was actually somewhat modest.

Theoretically, a luncheon for an imperial viscount, port governor, and Sublimator should feature fine seafruit oil, wines, and refined white bread, and the main dish should predominantly consist of beef and mutton to provide adequate nourishment.

But what could be done, given the special circumstances of Harrison Port?

The new immigrant district didn’t have Empire support for development, resources were inherently scarce, and aside from ample fish, there were no large pastures to provide fats and meats, making all livestock a rare resource.

Viscount Grant, due to political reasons, had little chance of progressing further, and naturally, he lacked the ambition for diligent governance or cultivation.

He merely lived day to day, enjoying a semi-retired life.

“Lamar and Yamm have already met with me.”

Viscount Grant took up a glass of mead — heavy with high-proof distilled spirits — and gulped it down.

Though drunk, his physique as a Sublimator meant he could sober up quickly whenever he wanted.

Turning his head slightly, his pale blue eyes looked at Elder Prude, expressing officialdom, “Those despicable Redwood Savages actually infiltrated the city to attack imperial citizens, violating the dignity of the Empire, which is intolerable.

But you know the situation of the port, we don’t have the money to drive out pests.

The Port Guard Squad isn’t at full strength either; we can only strengthen our defenses to prevent them from sneaking into the city again.”

“To really do something about it, we’ll have to wait until the year-end assistance arrives.”

Lamar is the port’s financial officer, and Yamm is the city defense officer as well as the security officer.

Harrison Port used to have a judge, but he was unluckily killed by an Ironclad Shark that fell from the sky during a storm eight years ago, and his successor waited three years for the appointment decree from The Empire, yet it never came.

Five years ago, he left the city in fury and his whereabouts became unknown—he was probably eaten by the natives or the beasts.

Now Viscount Grant has no choice but to take on the role himself.

It’s not standard practice, but there’s no better solution.

However, there’s word that the situation in the Imperial Capital has changed, perhaps due to the trade demands of Whale Song Cliff and Canaan Moore.

The Imperial Center is once again turning its attention to the south, and Harrison Port is also about to receive the first Imperial assistance in thirty years by the end of this year.

“The native attacks are due to the sacrifices for purity,” Elder Prude said, also downing a cup of honey wine spiked with high-strength distilled liquor.

His dwarf heritage made him appreciate this pure stimulation even more.

After setting down his cup and exhaling a breath of alcohol, Elder Prude’s deep blue eyes shone even brighter as he said to the Viscount, “I am well aware of Ossenna—he’s unclean.

That brat often sneaks out of the city to trade with those savages and inhale black mushrooms.

I’ve seen it all.”

“He is bad news, no doubt about it.

But those savages are way out of line.

This time, they specifically infiltrated the city demanding Ossenna to sacrifice his two children to them.

We White Folks cannot tolerate this.

For our family, even a cripple would fight to the death.

That’s the real truth behind this attack.”

“My lord, I plead with you to, in light of his courageous stand against the Redwood Natives this time, not punish him for his transgression, and if possible, to bestow some incense and potions for treating mental trauma?

There are young children affected by the natives’ Sleep Powder during this attack, suffering serious aftereffects.”

He requested formally, “The White Folks will remember your generosity.”

Summing up the information for the evening, Elder Prude was nearing the truth.

He wasn’t aware of Ossenna’s true intentions, but it was his duty to show unity and affection among the White Folks to outsiders.

“Ossenna and the drugs are easy to deal with; him being an aberration, getting lost in dreams is not unusual, and I do feel sorry for what the child endured.”

“But as for the sacrifices for purity…”

Viscount Grant nodded and casually agreed to the request, but in truth, he had no intention of punishing ‘Ossenna’—he himself occasionally inhaled black mushrooms as well, something not considered unusual among the Imperial Nobility.

As for the medicine, it wasn’t particularly costly to him, especially compared to the value of service provided by working with Elder Prude.

The White Folks constituted one-seventh of Harrison Port’s population, second only to The Empire’s main ethnic group, the Plains People.

Elder Prude was not only a good friend of his, but also a tribal Elder with whom he had both good working and personal relationships; he was highly cooperative on a daily basis.

It was appropriate to save face for him.

Yet the term “sacrifices for purity” immediately furrowed Viscount Grant’s brow: “Really?

Is the situation that serious?

Do we need to notify the Bishop?”

His face quickly turned from red to pale as his Sublimator constitution metabolized the alcohol.

The Viscount let out a sigh of relief and muttered to himself, “Thank goodness the assistance is coming soon, otherwise, despite our willingness, we’d be powerless to contend with the strength of those natives.”

But then, he shook his head and muttered with annoyance, “Lately, the situation at Huai Guang Church has also been difficult.

What a hassle.”

The people of the Southern Ridge all knew that the sacrifices for purity were one of the major rites common to all natives of the Southern Ridge, using only the blood of children and the souls of warriors for the ritual, second only to the highest-level ancestral spirit sacrifice.

Every instance of such rites was associated with significant events and anomalies.

Meanwhile, the Bishop stationed at Harrison Port from Huai Guang Church was a powerful Second Level Sublimator, having reached the Radiance Glow Stage—a truly frugal and ascetic monk much stronger than Viscount Grant, who wasn’t particularly focused on cultivation.

But lately, the Bishop had been inspecting many coastal villages and even traveled to the Northwest Colony to drive away the Beast Demons that became active during the typhoon season, often going missing for one or two months at a time.

“You make the decision.” Viscount Grant was still in thought as Elder Prude wasn’t foolish enough to believe he truly needed to offer a suggestion.

He only emphasized one point, “Before the storm eight years ago, those savages also performed sacrifices for purity in exchange for the protection of the Spirit of the Mountain Tide.

Their Shaman are more sensitive in these matters than us, and they wouldn’t risk performing the rituals without good reason.”

“There’s another point, my lord.

Recently, there has been an increasing number of Magical Beasts and Sublimation Plants around the port, and if a storm as abnormal as the one eight years ago were to occur again…”

At this point, Elder Prude intensified his tone, “It would mean, these occurrences are highly likely related to the ‘Labyrinth’!”