As autumn chill penetrated Sk Wolf Castle, the clamor of the war seemed to drift far away.

If it weren’t for the increase in tombstones in the church cemetery outside the city, many people might have considered this period a dream.

Especially half a month ago, when the Dawn Island Defense Committee finally lifted the military governance over Sk Wolf Castle, and the city’s vitality began to bloom again.

No matter what, the end of the war by the Defensive Army was something for which the people of Sk Wolf Castle were quite grateful.

However, the Defensive Army left a few local Holy Sect believers to manage the city, which slightly displeased many local guild leaders.

Though they didn’t contribute, they are still the backbone in the city, and whoever comes should have a place for them.

But in the eyes of many from the Saint Father’s Association or its subordinate Brotherhoods, it’s great that the guild leaders didn’t get involved.

If things don’t go well for you, they’ll go better for us!

Everyone knows about the Holy Alliance’s policy. Once the order to disband the guilds is issued, they will all be free.

Many artisans and civilians have even gone ahead to the taverns to open champagne in celebration.

After the end of military governance, citizens who were held back for a month flocked to the taverns, letting themselves loose.

Sitting on round iron-nailed chairs, the tavern owner’s wife busily flipped the eggs with a frying pan in the kitchen, and the air was filled with the scent of oil and rosemary.

Amid this drifting aroma, a person with a heavy Dawn Island accent was shouting:

"Read, next one."

"Regent Omes of Leia has ordered the contraction of the northern defense line, and no more troops will be sent toward Dawn Island.

According to a secret report from the Falan Embassy, the Leia Royal Family has reached an agreement with Falan, acknowledging Dawn Island’s separation from Leia’s jurisdiction, but ownership still requires negotiation."

"What’s next?"

"That’s it."

"Old Harvey Priest, could it be you don’t recognize the words below, such a short piece?"

"Bullshit! When I was learning to read, you were still in your crib eating shit!"

This reading priest was just a common nickname, not actually a priest, usually just a literate and loud-voiced citizen fulfilling the role.

Their job is simple, acting as a human radio, reading newspapers to tavern patrons.

Yes, even nowadays, Dawn Island has its newspapers.

But most of these newspapers are usually only published in urban areas, with almost every city having its own newspaper.

As for the newspaper old Harvey was reading, it was the "Wonyu City News".

Wonyu City has always been a staunch supporter of the Holy Alliance faction, but suddenly turning neutral today seems quite odd.

"Negotiate? Negotiate with whom?" A farmer-looking person in the corner put down his cup and asked blankly.

Last month, he was still carrying a halberd in the Defensive Army, and the scars on his chest were not yet fully healed.

The victory should belong to the Holy Alliance; what negotiation is needed?

The monks of the Holy Alliance gave him seeds and let his son into the legion school to learn literacy.

This battle was won by the Holy Alliance, which also has a three-year tax-free policy; why pledge to anyone other than the Holy Alliance?

Old Harvey cleared his throat and turned to the second page of the newspaper, where a line of bold headlines was printed.

"A Letter to the People of Dawn Island from the Falan Kingdom"

"See here?" Old Harvey tapped the newspaper with his finger. "Falan says that as long as we ally with them, in the future, Dawn Island’s merchant ships can pass the Nao’an River without paying tolls, and our artisans going to Falan can receive a royal craftsmanship certificate—can the Holy Alliance offer that?"

The diners immediately erupted into a commotion.

Tom, a merchant who made a fortune by river transport of grains, rubbed the calluses on his hands and laughed: "Now that’s sensible, the Holy Alliance is far away in the Thousand River Valley, but Falan is just across the river!"

A nearby leather merchant also nodded: "I thank the Holy Alliance, but that doesn’t mean Dawn Island should belong to the Holy Alliance."

The diners were both joyful and worried, whispering among themselves.

Only the farmer remained silent, touching the scar on his chest, remembering the Holy Alliance officer who taught him to shoot in the Defensive Army.

The man spoke with the accent of the Thousand River Valley, was very strict, but would share his sausages with soldiers injured in training.

"Shouldn’t we be grateful to the Holy Alliance?"

"We respect the Holy Alliance, but that doesn’t mean we should be like it; that would be too exhausting."

"But..."

The words came to his lips, but the room’s buzzing discussion suppressed them.

Tom’s disdainful gaze swept over him, as if saying, "What do you, a plowman, know about trade?"

Old Harvey continued reading, the words on the newspaper pierced like needles: "The Holy Sect suggests implementing land remeasurement, all lands previously owned by old nobles shall be redistributed and managed by monks.

If Dawn Island were to join the Holy Alliance, the guilds’ personal constraints on their members should be abolished..."

"What is this?!" Tom slammed the table, causing the ale in his cup to splash out. "Without guilds, everyone becomes an artisan, producing the same thing. How do we make money then?"

His words elicited a chorus of agreement, even the few young artisans who had previously shouted "Return to the Holy Alliance" frowned.

They had quite a number of migrant laborers hidden in their workshops!

With the current dire situation, without exploiting them, where would the money come from?

The patrons continued to argue, unaware that the farmer silently placed his drink down, pocketed half a loaf of dry bread, and left.

He was heading to a farmhouse on the outskirts to deliver a message to his fellow villagers who had just finished harvesting.

They had long hoped the Dawn Island would align with the Holy Alliance, but seeing the situation now, it seemed the townsfolk were unwilling.

If the Falan people came, would the new land they were allocated still be theirs?

Clearly, it was the Holy Alliance that helped drive away the Leia people, so why was everyone talking up Falan now?

This shift in sentiment was faster than the autumn chill. In less than half a month, even the vegetable-selling landlady at the Wonyu City market would tell customers, "Falan is better, even the price of grapes has increased..."

No one talked about establishing independence anymore. The oligarchs who were advocating for drafting their own laws a few days ago were now silent.

They had calculated that forming their own country would require supporting an army and setting tax laws. It was far more economical to ally with a foreign power.

They simply wanted to do business.

The Holy Alliance wanted to inspect warehouses and distribute land, while Falan offered privileges and tax exemptions. Anyone could do the math.

Listening to the downstairs clamor from the second floor of the tavern, several local guild leaders and oligarchs were especially excited.

Falan-produced wine adorned the mahogany table, the liquid in the crystal glasses shimmering.

Valeris, the mayor of Silver Castle City, pushed a thick document to the center of the table.

On the cover embossed with "Dawn Island Alliance Draft," there was a blank space at the top, waiting for the name of the alliance’s leader to be filled in.

"Take a look, everyone." Valeris tapped the document, his finger gliding over the clause for tax exemptions. "Falan agreed that as long as we facilitate the alliance, we can conduct business directly with the Falan Royal Family without intermediary guilds.

Falan also promised not to interfere with our guilds and moneylenders."

Sitting opposite him was the shipping merchant from Lebby City, still fiddling with a gold pound coin: "What about the Holy Alliance?"

"I asked yesterday." One oligarch replied coolly, "The monks from the Holy Alliance are already surveying the land of Dawn Island. I’m afraid our manors will be divided."

"Not that easy!" Grading sneered, pulling out a stack of Dawn Island newspapers from his pocket.

"See this? The newspapers from these past few days all praise Falan, seven out of ten people say they want to ally with Falan—public opinion is in our hands, what can the Holy Alliance do?"

"Offend the Holy Alliance, won’t they..."

"Isn’t Falan backing us up? Besides, doesn’t the Holy Alliance claim to respect the choices of the Dawn Island people?

Joining the Falan Kingdom is the choice of the Dawn Island people."

Watching the righteous Grading, several oligarchs and guild leaders secretly curled their lips.

Everyone knew that Grading had accepted five hundred gold pounds from the Falan people, still pretending!

Despite knowing this, they still decided to choose Falan.

Look at how the Holy Alliance deals with the wealthy and the guilds!

If the Holy Alliance were allowed to govern, their fate would not be good.

A manor lord from aristocratic lineage raised his glass: "But what about those traitors?"

By traitors, he referred to industry owners collaborating with the Holy Alliance, who were quite numerous.

Valeris set down his glass, his voice tinged with disdain: "How many of them are there, how much have they given to the Defensive Army?

They haven’t delivered a million in grain to the army, why should I care?"

Speaking, he pulled out a list from the drawer, filled with names: "This is the list of manor lords from the outskirts. I’ve already spoken to them.

As long as they lead the call to ’join Falan’, their manors will remain under their control.

Farmers dare defy them? Without the seeds and tools provided by the manor lords, they would starve in spring."

Grading added: "And the artisans, I had the chamber of commerce inform them that if they sided with the Holy Alliance, the good items from their workshops would be confiscated.

If they sided with Falan, Falan’s nobility would place more orders with them. Isn’t it obvious how to choose?"

"Once the Falan Royal Family’s reply arrives, we’ll become the leaders of the Dawn Island Federation.

The Holy Alliance? I hope they fare well; let them stay in the Thousand River Valley!"

Everyone in the second-floor loft laughed, their laughter loud yet unable to suppress the noise from the street outside.

Old Harvey in the tavern was still reciting the newspaper, and the marketplace merchants were still boasting about Falan to their customers.

But no one noticed the farmers squatting on the field ridges and the artisans hiding in the workshop corners, quietly connecting.

Occasionally, a fierce look would appear on their faces.