When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist-Chapter 672 - 630: Health Always Wins!

After Hilov, Catherine, and others each harbored their own intentions and connected with each other, October 17 quickly passed, and the numerous County Governors who had discussed the budget expenses began packing their bags, ready to leave.

On the evening of October 17, at the banquet, cardinals from the Truth Court to the Judgement Court, partners and bankers at all levels of the Meigedi Commerce Association, as well as nobles and knights, gathered to celebrate the successful conclusion of the first fiscal meeting.

Although there were quite a few minor episodes, overall, it was acceptable.

As for this banquet, it goes without saying—although it lacked the extravagant dishes from the past, various sweets and spices were generously used.

While it felt somewhat wasteful to use spices on fried pork, it must be said that the chefs of the ry Court Barracks seemed to have quite excellent frying and cooking skills.

The ingredients might not be better than those in the Duke's Mansion, but the new and intense flavor was strikingly similar.

After all, after the opening of the Red Copper Fortress, the transportation between Black Snake Bay and Langsande County connected, leading to tentative trade exchanges between the two in the past six months.

Due to the favorable policies of the Holy Axis, the Pope's Palace, through unified purchase and sales, could exchange for a large batch of pepper, chili, cinnamon, sesame, and clove.

After all, flour and rice cakes were hard currency in Black Snake Bay. Previously, due to border closures, trade relied only on smuggling; now, with smuggling allowed, the transport volume and turnover speed increased rapidly.

In fact, another major task for Moliat coming to the Holy Court was to connect with her mother.

At the same time, she brought Horn news about the Scales Hermitage, but the condition was that Horn must take her to meet the new witch.

The moon rose high, its light blurred behind cold glass, a series of halos stuck to the impure windows, making it hard to see inside through the water vapor.

The high echelons of the Thousand River Valley Monarch Country, dressed in military uniforms and formal wear, despite earlier oppositions, now each holding their secret intentions, were toasting and introducing each other.

After all, during the constitutional period, many were stationed abroad and engaged in battles, and as the positions of the County Governors were undetermined, they couldn't get to know each other sooner.

In the warm hall, the fireplace roared, white wax dripped along the silver candelabra onto the redwood long table covered with satin tablecloth.

Around the long table, mid-level to high-level members were moving back and forth with plates and wine glasses.

Lannes, clad in a black feathered haori jacket, raised a glass of apple cider and bowed to Moliat in front of him: "Today, your demeanor is so unlike your grandfather (Grand Duke Hemashi), but more like your great-grandfather (King Norn)."

"You brat, if nothing else, you've gotten better at flattery, huh? Hahahaha." Laughing heartily, almost coarsely, Moliat, dressed in tailored, luxurious men's apparel with legging hunting attire, heavily patted Lannes' back.

"Cough, cough, I was just, cough, telling the truth." Lannes said, his face turning purple.

Moliat tilted her glass, pointing at Lannes in front of her, and introduced: "His Majesty Saint Sun, here is my cavalry captain, Lannes."

"Ah, indeed a talent." Horn extended his hand to shake his.

Lannes was about to exchange courtesies when he heard a crisp clinking sound.

The crowd turned to see Mitney, in a well-groomed woolen robe, standing on a chair and tapping the glass with a spoon: "Everyone, we gather here today like one big family.

But a year ago, like lost dogs, we were chased by the Thousand River Valley Church and Prince Kongdai, fleeing everywhere, nowhere near the comfort of today.

Thanks to the Autocratic Duke and His Highness the Great Shepherd, we are now able to gather here. So, I propose we all stand and toast to the tribunes, for their health and perpetual victory!"

Raising a glass of apple cider first, Mitney toasted towards Horn and Moliat on the main seat.

Similarly, everyone stood up in joy, raising their glasses high.

"Loyalty!"

"Devotion!"

"Yes, today is the happiest." Horn raised his glass to everyone in the hall.

.........

While others in the hall continued to drink and feast, Horn, Catherine, and Moliat each made excuses of drunkenness or discomfort and left the hall.

It was only when Catherine boarded the black luxury carriage that they slowly headed towards the Mechanical Palace.

The darkened street scenes streamed past the car windows as Horn and Moliat talked knee to knee, while Catherine, under the moonlight and streetlight, used a small mirror to touch up her makeup.

"When will the ceremony start? We won't be late, right?" Moliat sat with an iron fist placed on the knee, in a relaxed posture.

"Jeanne went ahead early." Horn glanced at a clock tower, "It's only nine-thirty now, we still have an hour, we'll definitely make it."

"That's good." Moliat leaned her head against the carriage wall and began to rest her eyes.

Horn looked at her iron fist for a while before speaking, "That Lady Hilof is very skilled at making fine mechanical creations; perhaps she could craft an iron hand for you?"

"No need." Moliat looked at her fist, "A clenched fist holds true power."

"If an iron hand could be made, why insist on an iron fist? The hand could grip based on your elbow and wrist movements. I think with extraordinary skills and muscle control, controlling each finger is not an issue."

"Go ahead and make it; I can take it back for collection." Moliat didn't want to argue further on this topic and just replied casually.

Under the escort of the Holy Gun Cavalry, the carriage swiftly crossed Central Avenue and the bridge over the Parra River, driving all the way to the front of the Mechanical Palace.

While disembarking, Horn turned to Moliat to explain, "I'm sorry, it's not her being rude, like you, she's affected by the witch's mental illness, unable to leave this palace, or show any expressions."

"I know." A hint of complex pity appeared in Moliat's eyes.

Most witches who lived long faced various mental illnesses, although the severity varied.

For her, having been obsessed with using spells to discern loyalty during her youthful ascent to power, had caused nearly irreversible damage to her psyche.

Her sister existed before she became a Duke, initially speaking occasionally in her mind, and later progressively took over control of her body.

Upon arriving at High Castle, her sister even seized control while she slept.

Now there were moments when it was hard to distinguish who exactly was in control.

In this regard, Moliat was quite envious of Jeanne, the youngest among them. Her spell usage had been disciplined from the start, with no signs of mental illness so far.

Through palace gates and checkpoints uniformly opened by soldiers with salutes, Hilov, sitting in a wheelchair, opened the main door ahead of time, placing her hands elegantly and serenely on her knees as Jeanne pushed from behind.

"Greetings, distinguished ladies." Hilov greeted first with an Ancient Aier-style salutation, "You both look radiant."

"You're jesting, I am Catherine." Catherine quickly extended her hand to shake with Hilov, "You seem like you just stepped out from an Ancient Aier fresco."

Hilov promptly responded with a somewhat formal 'haha,' repeating the word thrice.

It was then that Moliat snapped out of her reverie, glancing at Hilov's ears and tail, she too reached out to shake her hand, with a look of inexplicable solemnity: "I am pleased to meet you today, Lady Hilof."