The Virtuous Dark Witch

Chapter 59

"You don't need to drive away those transformed beings," Elara Dessey had other plans. "Stay and help me guard West Sea Mall. I also intend to build walls around Luohe Plains. If your tribe has—"

"I'll take it!" Wilson cut her off before she could finish, as if afraid the job would be snatched away. He agreed without asking anything. "Heavy work like laying stone bricks and building walls is perfect for us Werewolves, who are naturally strong. The Macadam Tribe has no shortage of hardworking Werewolves."

If it didn't make him look bad, he would even ask little Dessey if West Sea Forest wanted silly but obedient slaves. Money wasn't an issue—he'd gladly take a little, or even just enough food to fill those wolf pups' bellies. It was true that Werewolves had immense strength, but their appetites were… to put it gently, extremely huge.

Once, he had been a wealthy and carefree Wolf King. But now… thinking about it only brought tears.

Elara looked down at the Werewolves entering the City Guard Mansion. Why were all the Werewolves male in their prime? "Is this all the people of the Macadam Tribe?" Her gaze settled on a tall, cold-looking female Werewolf at the very end.

"Of course not," Wilson leaned on the windowsill, gazing east. "This is the City Guard Mansion, after all. Only the bravest Werewolves of the tribe come here. The rest—the elderly, the weak, women, and children—are waiting outside the East City Gate."

"How many in total?" Elara watched the female Werewolf, who had been watching cautiously ever since entering the mansion. The male Werewolves all seemed to fear her. This one must hold a special position in the Macadam Silver Wolf Tribe.

"Excluding those traveling outside and the sub-wolves who left with their followers, the current population is twenty-three thousand seven hundred and twenty-six," Wilson said, feeling as if a mountain weighed on his shoulders. He pulled his tattered vest tighter, needing to calm down. "Little Dessey, do you want to reinforce the walls of West Sea Mall?"

Elara couldn't stand his spineless look. "How did you even become Wolf King of the Macadam Tribe? How did the Werewolves there let you live this long? Have you just grown used to hardship?"

"I had no choice. I was born to be king," Wilson said, feeling sorry for himself. "At least the Macadam Tribe is smaller than the Arabella and Leeds Tribes." Otherwise, he would have worried himself to an early grave.

"Who is that?" Elara nodded her chin toward the cold wolf-woman who had just finished patrolling the castle.

"My half-sister, Lona Maxton," Wilson waved to Lona, who was looking at the lighthouse. "Little Dessey, it's very dangerous for you to take those skeletons to Andrea Capital to demand accountability. You can safely hire me. My sister can handle things here in the Macadam Tribe."

Elara watched as Lona Maxton turned into a silver-gray wolf shadow and leaped through the air. A flicker of interest crossed her eyes. "We'll discuss it after I talk to your sister."

The silver-gray wolf shadow leaped through the south window into the attic. Lona Maxton shifted back into human form. Her gaze glanced casually over Wilson before settling on Elara. “Greetings. I am Lona Maxton, Head Steward of the Macadam Tribe, and wife of Nam Adam."

"You don't have to say that last part," Wilson put a hand on his hip and stood crookedly toward her. "If you really must, you can say you're the sister of Wilson Macadam."

That bastard Nam looked honest, but he was full of tricks. As his own brother-in-law, he had openly asked to borrow money.

Lona Maxton shot Wilson a cold glance. "Nam may be ugly, but he is loyal to his mate. I like him."

At that, Wilson stood straight, shrugged, and held up his hands. He surrendered. "When Nam hands over those four hundred gold coins, don't forget to pay me back a hundred silver coins. Blood brothers must settle accounts clearly."

At the mention of money, Lona stepped forward, placed her right hand over her chest, and bowed to Elara. "Lord Elara, thank you for allowing the Macadam Tribe to settle in West Sea Mall. We sincerely appreciate your trust in placing the duty of protecting West Sea Mall in our hands. Rest assured, the Macadam Tribe will not disappoint you."

The Macadam Tribe had long been homeless, surviving mostly by hunting and taking quests. Life had been fairly good. But two thousand years ago, after that pack of silver wolves mysteriously vanished, dissenting voices had arisen within the tribe.

They wanted Wilson to lead the Silver Wolf Tribe to attack West Sea Forest and hunt the Dessey Witches. Wilson, usually good-natured, flew into a rage and suppressed them firmly. Meanwhile, three sub-wolves—Andrew, Ethan, and Jacob—took the chance to leave the Macadam Tribe with large numbers of strong male Werewolves.

Wilson had been tricked. Andrew, Ethan, and Jacob had only wanted to leave with their followers; revenge was just an excuse. Otherwise, after two thousand years, why hadn't they brought their people to attack West Sea Forest?

The once prosperous Macadam Tribe had plummeted in strength after so many male Werewolves left. With the elderly and weak to care for, Wilson had to lead the tribe out of the towns, wandering through valleys and plains to recover.

After two thousand years, their savings were nearly gone. Fortunately, the wolf pups abandoned by those male Werewolves had grown up. But the situation outside was grim. Internal conflicts among the clans were fiercer than ever, and Werewolves kept disappearing. Wilson felt deeply uneasy.

Wandering without money or supplies couldn't last. That was why Wilson planned to lead the Macadam Tribe to find a town to settle in. What she hadn't expected was how lucky their tribe would be.

"It's only a fair trade," Elara twirled the Life Ring lightly. "I don't want your gratitude." She only wanted stability and harmony for West Sea Mall.

"I understand, but I still thank you for giving the Macadam Tribe a chance." When Wilson had rushed back happily to tell the tribe the news, for a moment she had felt grateful—grateful that Wilson had stood firm back then and not listened to Andrew's group to besiege West Sea Forest.

Elara lowered her eyes and smiled faintly. "You have to be worthy of it, too."

"True," Wilson stepped forward and put an arm around his sister's shoulder, seeking credit. "I just got the tribe a big job." He turned to Elara. "His Lordship wants to build walls around Luohe Plains." Walls enclosing a whole city would cost a fortune—he couldn't even imagine it.

In all his life, even when living frugally, he had never blamed anyone. But at that moment, Wilson actually felt a little annoyed at his ancestors for not trying hard enough. Just look at Selah Dessey—one person's hard work benefited generations.

Lona Maxton's eyes lit up. Building walls clearly required a huge amount of labor. The job didn't even need the tribe's adult males; she could lead the older children and elderly Werewolves. Suppressing her joy, she stated her reason for coming. "Lord Elara, is the empty land outside the West Gate of West Sea Mall for sale?"

Although the Macadam Tribe wasn't huge, they weren't small either. The money Wilson had brought back was limited. She had to make sure every tribesman had enough to eat and wear.

Before entering the city, she had checked outside the West Gate. There was a large area of unused land, and it shouldn't be too expensive.

"You want to settle on that empty land outside the West Gate?" That wasn't out of the question. Elara had recently been thinking about how to use that land. "I suggest you consider Luohe Plains instead."

"Luohe Plains?" Lona Maxton blinked and began to think.

Elara smiled. "Luohe Plains isn't very large, but the soil is fertile. It's close to West Sea Mall, and the Rozin people living there are simple and honest. If you settle there, you won't have to separate your tribe, and you can farm." Perhaps one day in the future, she would open the outer areas of West Sea Forest to outsiders.

Of course, she had her own selfish motives. Werewolves were strong but not bloodthirsty. Having the Macadam Tribe settle in Luohe Plains would act as a deterrent. At the very least, the Andros would think twice before causing trouble there.

Distance was never a problem for Werewolves. Lona made up her mind quickly, not even consulting Wilson. "Lord Elara, can the land there be cheaper?"

So she agreed. Elara smiled brightly. "Luohe Plains welcomes you. The land is free. I hope you will treat it as your home."

"I understand," Lona Maxton was no fool. "We will forever cherish Luohe Plains." Once settled, it would become a haven for the elderly and weak of the Macadam Tribe. "We will also live in peace with the local Rozin people."

Elara nodded. "Good." She had other uses for the empty land outside the West Gate. "Wilson says you're the Head Steward of the Macadam Tribe. I assume you're familiar with managing accounts?"

"Yes," Lona did not hide her ability. "Ever since Wilson became Wolf King, all tribal accounts have passed through me."

“Perfect. Tomorrow, I will invite merchants to the City Guard Mansion to calculate the losses from the night raid six days ago. You will join them." Elara felt relieved thinking about the mountain of registration forms piling up these days.

Nam had mentioned the night raid when they entered the city. This lord suited her perfectly. Lona naturally agreed. "Very well. I will come early tomorrow morning."

Elara glanced at the Werewolves in their mismatched clothes and pressed her tongue against her cheek. Since she was spending money, she would spend it properly. "Have these new City Guards measured for uniforms. Then go into the city and order matching sets—two per person. I will cover the cost." The City Guard Mansion's accounts also needed someone to take charge soon, and she already had someone in mind.

"Uniforms too?" Wilson looked down at his own clothes and cheekily asked Elara, "Do I get any?" After years as Wolf King, he only owned two formal outfits for banquets, replacing them once a decade. If they tore, he simply stopped attending banquets.

"Only if you serve as a City Guard," Lona showed no favoritism. "Anything else, pay for it yourself."

Was this really his sister? Wilson touched his pocket, turned back to Elara, and returned to the earlier topic. "Are you really planning to take those skeletons to Andrea Capital alone to demand payment?"

After meeting Lona, Elara had changed her plans. "After we calculate the losses tomorrow, I'll decide whether to hire you." She glanced at the quiet city. Thanks to Tony from Hank's Gem Shop, the calculated losses would surely be an astronomical figure.

That meant there was still a chance. Wilson smiled, put aside his frivolous manner, and began discussing arrangements. "Including the ninety Werewolves already stationed here, we now have exactly two thousand City Guards. After they meet you, I will review the map of West Sea Mall with them."

"With enough personnel, we must set up round-the-clock, full-coverage defense for West Sea Mall." We cannot allow another night raid like last time to disturb the people."

"Now that's acting like you're doing real work." The Macadam Tribe was being paid, after all. She didn't want to lose the money she'd earned due to carelessness. "If two thousand aren't enough, we can send more tribesmen once we're settled. For this business to last, there can be no carelessness."

Elara had no objections. "I hope you can stabilize West Sea Mall as soon as possible."

Wilson promised without hesitation. "We will. Come meet my tribesmen."

"Very well."

After meeting Wilson's people, Elara left the City Guard Mansion and went straight to Hank's Gem Shop on West Street. The person she was looking for happened to be there. She spoke a few words to Old Whiskers, then called Tony over as he wiped the cabinets. She spoke directly. "The City Guard Mansion needs a Head Accountant. I think you're perfect for the role."

Tony was stunned. His mouth half-open, he turned to his equally shocked grandfather. Lord Elara actually… wanted to recruit him into the City Guard Mansion! Although it had just been established, everyone knew only powerful Werewolves served there. His heart pounded wildly.

After the shock, Old Whiskers thought carefully. The Head Accountant of the City Guard Mansion meant managing all the mansion's finances and transactions—even the security budget of the entire city. His eldest grandson, Tony, was capable, but… he was just a lowly Rozin person. Could he really take on such a heavy responsibility?

Compared to his grandfather, Tony did not hesitate. Despite his humble origins, every young man had ambition. He had studied with his grandfather since childhood, and the furthest he had imagined was taking over the shop. But now Lord Elara had given him a better choice. He did not want to give it up.

"Tony, you're grown now. Decide for yourself." Old Whiskers couldn't make up his mind about Tony's future, so he let go.

Tony clenched his hands at his sides, his nails digging into his palms. After a long moment, he spoke. "Lord Elara, thank you for your recognition. I am deeply grateful, but I dare not be overconfident. I know you plan to calculate the losses from the night raid six days ago on West Sea Mall and Luohe Plains. I wish to take charge of this calculation. Afterward, you may decide again."

He did not want Lord Elara to regret choosing him. He also wanted to prove he had the ability to do the job.

She hadn't been disappointed. Elara smiled and nodded in agreement. "The calculation begins tomorrow. So far, only Lona Maxton, Head Steward of the Macadam Tribe, has been assigned to the team. You may choose the rest. You may invite them in the name of West Sea Forest."

"I want an accurate loss total within two days. Two days from now, I will escort those transformed beings to Andrea Capital."

Tony understood. She was entrusting him with the entire calculation. He placed his right hand over his chest and knelt on one knee. "Yes, my lord."

After Elara left, Tony did not rush out to find suitable helpers. Instead, he took out the ledger he had used to calculate Hank's Gem Shop's losses and discussed it with his grandfather first.

Using the shop's earnings from the same season in previous years as a reference, he calculated the losses methodically and listed every item to check. Only after triple-checking for omissions did he take the list out. Before sunset, every shop and household in the city received a loss calculation form delivered by young Werewolves.

"Tony is really sharp," Cinderaven stretched his neck, staring at the palm-sized paper Elara held. "Earnings from September over the past three years, earnings on the day West Sea Mall was founded, recent income—everything is listed clearly. Every household just needs to fill it out."

Even before the official calculation, he could already predict what a huge sum it would be. A whole city's monthly losses, calculated against three years of revenue—it would be easy for Tony.

"That's exactly the kind of talent I want," Elara picked up a quill to fill out the form. The young Werewolves had said they would collect them that evening.

Cinderaven watched her pick up the pen and asked curiously, "Are you filling one out too?" Hadn't the Dessey shops been closed for the past three years, with no recent business? What could she possibly declare?

"I have losses too," Elara said without blushing. "On the night before Anastas City was renamed, didn't I close a big deal? Now, thanks to those transformed beings, I have no business at all."

She barely even opened the door! Cinderaven watched numbly as Elara wrote five hundred thousand gold coins in each box. He had a bad feeling about collecting this debt.

The Andros were wealthy, but their money wasn't unlimited. Besides, he had already checked the bloodlines of the captured transformed beings. The Andros nobles who turned them weren't particularly high-ranking. Where would they get that much money to pay her?

Once Elara finished the form, she went to the window. A stocky young Werewolf holding papers passed by. She called with a smile. "Wait a moment. My form is ready."

The stocky young Werewolf stopped, looked up, and said seriously. "Please hand it to me, Lord Elara. I will take all of them to the City Guard Mansion once I finish this street."

"Very well." Elara took the paper, hurried downstairs, and stood at the shop entrance. "Thank you for your hard work."

"It's no trouble," the young Werewolf took the paper and smiled innocently. "Steward Tony is paying us." Head Steward Lona had already said they would eat meat that night. His mouth watered at the thought. "Lord Elara, I must keep collecting papers. Goodbye!”

"Goodbye." Elara watched the young Werewolf leave with a gentle smile. "Take care."

Cinderaven stood on the second-floor windowsill. Tony was truly clever. To become Head Accountant of the City Guard Mansion, he would have to work with Werewolves. Hiring young Werewolves to distribute forms was a good way to build goodwill in advance. If a Rozin Person's mind was paired with a Werewolf's strength, even the Andros wouldn't be so arrogant. He could worry less.

At seven the next morning, Tony arrived at the City Guard Mansion with a fifty-person calculation team and officially began tallying the city's losses. After finishing all the tribal arrangements, Lona also joined.

All City Guards of West Sea Mall were in position. After multiple drills, Wilson selected five hundred of the two thousand Werewolves as the most valiant. They were split into five teams, each divided into two squads: one team stationed at each cardinal direction, one team guarding the mansion, with squads rotating shifts.

The remaining fifteen hundred Werewolves were divided into three groups of five hundred, with ten-Werewolf patrol squads rotating duties.

"The Macadam Silver Wolf Tribe City Guards are now on duty! Please do not fear! We have been paid by West Sea Forest and will protect the people of West Sea Mall with our lives! Please trust us!"

Elara listened to the shouts outside and was truly impressed by Wilson. Seven days had passed since the night raid. Some merchants had bravely opened their shops, but residents still dared not go out. To calm them, Wilson had ordered the patrols to shout loudly all morning to restore a sense of security.

"Is he afraid you won't have money to pay him next year?" Cinderaven covered his head with both wings. "It's so noisy."

"It should help," Elara cast a barrier, walked to the table, and took out a Blood Rose Crystal Card. Once Tony calculated West Sea Mall's losses, this card would be given to him.

When Cinderaven saw the card, he knew what Elara planned. "Eight hundred thousand gold coins won't be enough to build walls around Luohe Plains."

"I know." The walls in this world were not like the ancient city walls of her past life. Elara took out another Blood Rose Crystal Card. "With this, it should be enough."

Ordinary walls were seven meters high and one meter thick, built entirely from Gray Ridge Milk Stone. Ordinary walls would suffice for Luohe Plains; she would add a set of Boundary Stone Barriers later.

"I still doubt it," Cinderaven hovered close to her. "The Gray Ridge Milk Stone alone will cost a fortune, plus foundation-laying, transport, labor, masonry—" It still didn't feel enough.

Elara clicked her tongue, her mind filled with astronomical numbers. She looked at Cinderaven more and more gently, terrifying him until his feathers stood on end. He flapped his wings to flee, but it was too late.

A pale, jade-like hand grabbed one of his legs. Elara pressed him onto the table. Cinderaven shouted, "Even a talking black raven is worthless!" Besides, I will never speak outside!"

"I'm not going to sell you," Elara stroked his fluffed feathers and sighed softly. "Only now do I truly understand Wilson's pain and worries." The responsibility of a tribe leader and a city lord was truly heavy. "Earning money is exhausting, but spending it is like running water."

So what exactly did she want? Could she just say it? Cinderaven shrank his head, feeling that terrifying "gentleness" on his back. Each day was harder than the last. When would it end?

Elara cleared her throat. "Does Duke Austin Corell truly have no heirs?"

Cinderaven answered immediately, not daring to hesitate. “No. Don't ask again. No one knows this better than me." What was she suspecting?

Good that he had no heirs. Elara cleared her throat again, smiled, and lifted Cinderaven's head. "Let's discuss something."

"What?" Cinderaven grew even more alert at her fake smile. Was she so poor she planned to chain him up and perform "talking raven" shows on the street for money?

"Look…," Elara looked at the pitiful Cinderaven and felt a twinge of guilt thinking about the one lying in her tomb. But poverty left no room for softness. "More than ten thousand years have passed, and the Twin Spirit Curse still hasn't been broken. If anything happens to Duke Austin Corell, his hard-earned fortune will just go to Moslin Bank… or other disobedient Andros."

Cinderaven finally understood. He heaved a huge sigh of relief—at least she wasn't going to parade him for money. Then his eyes turned teary. "Cinderaven is loyal to you! How could you?" Austin is still alive, and you're already thinking about inheriting his estate?!”