When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist

Chapter 1341: Chapter 1259: Onward to Bacon

Kutyuyov did not have high hopes for Alexei and his Sav River project.

In fact, most of the cuirassiers and the old veterans of Fat Cow Castle who had surrendered did not hold much hope for Alexei’s plan.

Leaving aside the enormous human and material resources needed to reconstruct a river, there was the fundamental issue of whether it could even be completed.

What would happen if there was a flood? What if the river was not deep enough for navigation? What if, halfway through construction, the vampires launched a massive attack?

Wouldn’t that just be a waste of manpower and resources?

But Kutyuyov couldn’t stop Alexei’s plan, because every time he voiced opposition, Alexei would ask, "So what is your solution, Lord Kutyuyov?"

What followed was an awkward silence.

Kutyuyov quite liked this state of opposition and strong will that Alexei displayed; it was essential for a Duke of Fat Cow Castle.

But he preferred waiting for the moment when, after Alexei messed things up, he could say, "I told you so," while cleaning up the mess.

So he sat back and watched Alexei’s actions, waiting for the young and naive to make mistakes.

Almost every day, he would wear a bearskin cloak and drink Saint’s Grandson brew (potato-based liquor) in a small hut by the river.

Every few days, someone would bring him specific updates on the overall situation occupied by the Imperial Army.

Events like Charles VIII reorganizing the troops to block the Royal Court’s army at Golden Fleece Beach, where both sides had been in fierce combat for over a month.

Like the Central Army invading the White Sandlands to the south, causing local defensive forces to collapse at first contact, and only maintaining stability after losing nearly half their territory.

Like Konyaz, for some unknown reason, suddenly risking sending out the navy to attempt to open a second front in the frontier lands and use it as a springboard to land in southern Norn.

The latest battle reports arrived one after another, deepening the furrow of worry on Kutyuyov’s brow.

He had realized clearly that the Royal Court’s army this time was unlike any previous times.

In the Hundred Years’ War or previous vampire invasions, both sides would tug at a territory for a long time before it could be conquered.

Sometimes it would be one to two years, sometimes even ten or twenty years.

This time, whether it was Leia or Falan, the vampire’s army had no equal opponent.

According to the battle reports, sometimes the Imperial Army needed two to three times the manpower to contain the Royal Court’s advances.

In a year, the entire Roaring Corridor fell, and the northern army even managed to push all the way to southern Norn.

In a year, wealthy coastal lands like the Windmill District, Golden Horn Bay, Eagle’s Claw Bay, White Sandlands, and Golden Fleece Beach fell in succession.

On the Nao’an River, on the Ibe River, on rivers and roads across the Empire, there were refugees displaced from their homes.

Undeniably, along the coastal areas, the bankruptcy of estates caused a massive loss of armed personnel, forming a moral vacuum, which was one of the reasons.

But more importantly, in Kutyuyov’s view, the vampires’ martial prowess and internal unity this time far exceeded expectations.

This battle would not be easy.

Having closed the battle report in his hand, Kutyuyov blew out the oil lamp and took out a silver flask to drink.

Only after tilting his head back and drinking for a while did he realize there wasn’t a drop of alcohol left.

It must have been Basrudi who forgot to fill the flask, that lazy bum!

He put on his cloak and left the small hut, intending to borrow some liquor from the river engineering works.

After all, who doesn’t drink while working on a project?

But as he walked to the riverbank he remembered, he couldn’t help but blink hard: "This, this can’t be right?"

He had seen the old course of the Sav River, but it was definitely not like this.

It should have been a dry trench, strewn with remnants of fishing boats and nets, full of weeds, tree roots, and stones!

If soil were allowed to accumulate for decades and washed by floods, this place would become completely level ground.

Yet now he saw a trapezoidal river channel about 3 meters deep and 15 meters wide.

The withered aquatic plants and boat wrecks were gone.

The weeds, tree roots, and stones had disappeared.

Along the endlessly long riverbank, there were only groups of workmen using cranes to move soil up and down.

Their movements were awkward yet mechanical, but their efficiency was exceptionally high.

Clearing debris, digging soil, moving stones... everyone was diligently doing their part as if they were repairing their own roof.

Kutyuyov watched for a while and didn’t even see a single overseer with a whip.

If he hadn’t been sober today, he would have thought he drank until he hallucinated.

"Lord Kutyuyov, what are you doing here?" Basrudi’s voice came amid the sound of hooves, "You haven’t had a drink yet, have you? I brought some good liquor to change for you..."

"Give me the horse."

"Huh? Ah...ah!"

Before Basrudi could respond, Kutyuyov had already kicked him off the horse and mounted it himself, riding along the riverbank forward.

He returned after about half an hour, but his expression was indescribably complex.

Counting the time, it had only been two months, but the river dredging project was already halfway completed.

At the current pace, the river would be navigable around June.

Kutyuyov’s estimate was also June, but June next year!

What had happened in the southern Armored Wood Province during these years he spent in the north? Did they collectively ascend?

Are they still human?

Kutyuyov had endured hardships back in the day, starting from being a marauder and doing all kinds of work, from boatman to coachman to laborer.

He dared to say with certainty that no one doing this kind of work wasn’t lazy. If they weren’t lazy, are they still human?

So he inquired about the wages of the engineering soldiers and found that the wages indeed made it possible not to be human.

It was five times the wage of his labor days, paid weekly!

The Holy Alliance folks were certainly wealthy and willing to spend lavishly.

But he still didn’t understand why, with pay being a duty for the work, everyone should be frowning.

Why were these workmen so enthusiastic?

From this day on, Kutyuyov stopped staying in the small hut to drink every day and instead patrolled the river delta with the cuirassiers daily.

Because he discovered that, at this pace, Alexei’s plan might genuinely succeed!

If that were the case, the current top priority was to prevent scouts from the Royal Court from discovering the movement here.

Sometimes he even resented himself from a month ago, wondering why he stayed in the hut all the time and didn’t come out to see.

If the vampires discovered the early progress of the project and got suspicious, this most likely plan would come to naught.

In any case, the smooth progress of the plan was beyond Kutyuyov’s expectations.

The vampires did not become suspicious, and by the end of May, the river channel and dikes were basically repaired, only waiting to close the gates to divert water.

In early June, with the arrival of dozens of paddle steamer fast boats from the Holy Alliance, they brought news of the Falan navy cutting off the retreat route of the vampire navy landing in the frontier lands.

A major naval battle cost the Royal Court nearly a quarter of its fleet and left five thousand troops stranded in the frontier lands.

Whether on the Chessboard Castle front or the Golden Fleece Beach front, the situation was stalemated.

But today, in early June, during this early summer season, the Roaring Corridor would first break the stalemate across the entire Empire.

Kutyuyov deeply believed this, especially after seeing those speedy barges.

Perhaps this is indeed the era of the young?

Gazing at the red and black gear flag of the Holy Alliance and the striped flag of Fat Cow Castle side by side, Kutyuyov turned his eyes towards Alexei.

Compared to eight years ago, Alexei had grown a thick beard and was accompanied by a military officer and a scholar.

The officer was named Valery, and the scholar was named Anorok.

Looking at the officer’s face, Kutyuyov fell into a daze once again.

It seemed he could see the face of former Duke Petrov on Alexei’s face and his own shadow on the officer.

Standing by the dike, Alexei Brumley drew the longsword from his waist, full of spirit.

"Gentlemen, behold, ahead lies Bacon Castle!"

With the rumbling, the mighty river water roared and howled, raising countless snowy white spray as it flowed along the river channel to the distance.

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