Not long after, Irene, who was sweating profusely while directing apprentices to stir soap liquid in the West Tower, was brought in.
She hadn't even had time to wipe a smudge of dust off the tip of her nose. Her long pink hair was tied into two small buns, and her blue almond eyes still held the fanaticism unique to scientific research.
"Your Majesty, you were looking for me?
Is there something wrong with that mint formula?"
Irene asked somewhat nervously.
Sophia didn't speak; she simply slid the letter across the table to Irene.
Irene took the letter with confusion and scanned it quickly.
When she saw the words 'snatched up completely' and 'exchange for raw iron and leather', she froze for a moment, then abruptly jumped up, letting out a cheer that was extremely unbecoming of a lady.
It worked!
I knew this kind of cross-era dimensional strike would absolutely have no issues!
Irene was so excited her face turned red, and tears shimmered in her eyes.
"Your Majesty! Did you see?
"They are fighting to buy it! That is something I made with my own hands!
"They are even willing to trade raw iron for it! This proves we succeeded! They can no longer do without us!"
Irene's mood at this moment was exceptionally complex.
As a 'Transmigrator', she had once felt out of place in this backward era of cold weapons, completely lacking a sense of security, terrified she would one day starve to death in her sleep.
But Sophia appeared.
Sophia gave her a laboratory, gave her support, and even bled and suffered injury to protect her.
Now, seeing her heart's blood truly becoming a 'Divine Miracle' that saved the Kingdom of Mason, the look in Irene's eyes when she looked at Sophia contained not just the original gratitude, but also a kind of worship bordering on fanaticism.
"This is all because Your Majesty's trade strategy was simply too genius."
Irene leaned her small face close to the desk, her voice trembling with excitement.
"If you hadn't thought of letting the Queen use the 'Queen's Special Edition' first, those arrogant nobles definitely wouldn't have bought into it.
"Your Majesty, you are simply the greatest... commercial tyrant of this era!"
Stared at by Irene's sparkling eyes, Sophia averted her gaze somewhat unnaturally.
"Miss Irene, the word 'Tyrant'..." Willow reminded her softly from the side.
Irene hurriedly covered her mouth, burying her head deeply.
Oh no, I got too carried away!
"I will let it pass this time.
"Since the soap is popular, continue to increase production. Presumably, we can start the second trade very soon."
Sophia resumed her frosty demeanor, her fingers lightly tapping the letter paper.
"The raw iron Delilah brings back will all be allocated to your laboratory, Irene.
"I need you to use this iron to make more parts for the 'Mason Type I' muskets, and also..."
Sophia paused, her tone remaining calm, but the content once again plunged Irene into a daze.
"I want you to develop a system that can keep parts of the Palace warm before winter thoroughly arrives.
"That set of theories you call 'greenhouses' should be put into practice."
Irene snapped to attention, her voice shockingly loud.
"No problem! Your Majesty!
"As long as there are materials, I can transform this Palace into the only paradise on this continent!"
Sophia nodded slightly.
To the side, Willow's gaze wandered between the two of them, a faint smile on her face.
*
Two days later, on a border path of the Kingdom of Mason.
Originally, Delilah hadn't wanted to take this small road, but unfortunately, the other routes were prone to encountering the associates of the previous wave of bandits.
Now that she was carrying even more cargo, she didn't want to provoke any trouble.
In the past, this road had only seen fleeing famine refugees and the brutal grain collection squads that occasionally galloped past.
But today, the heavy, rhythmic sound of wheels rolling over the ground thoroughly shattered the deathly silence of the wilderness.
Delilah rode on horseback. Although the continuous days of travel had left faint dark circles under her eyes, her back remained perfectly straight.
Behind her, those thirty soldiers showed no signs of fatigue; instead, because they were carrying fully loaded supplies, they radiated a terrifying sharpness.
They had already thought about how they would brag to their good brothers upon their return. After all, they were people who had gone on a mission and seen the world!
The caravan passed by a small settlement on the outskirts of the Royal City of Mason named 'Withered Willow Town'.
The residents of the town hid in groups of two or three behind low, dilapidated mud walls, peering out in terror.
The last time they had seen a convoy of this scale was when the grain carts were hauled away during the Old King's military campaigns.
"Look quickly, it's the Tyrant's banner."
A skinny, emaciated old man pointed tremblingly at the insignia on the lead carriage.
"What is loaded in those carriages?
"Could it be that the Queen not only killed the nobles but also looted the neighboring country?"
The villagers held their breath, counting the number of carriages with greedy yet fearful eyes.
One, two... a full ten heavily laden carriages!
The wheels of every carriage pressed deeply into the mud, emitting groans of being overburdened.
Although the crates were covered with thick canvas, obscuring the raw iron and leather inside, that steady sense of weight could not be faked.
"Is that... is that a live cow?!"
A suppressed cry of shock suddenly erupted from the crowd. Why bring live cows?
In the center of the convoy, on a reinforced flatbed cart, stood two robust, adult spotted dairy cows.
The fur of these two cows was oily and shiny. Although they seemed a bit cramped from the long trek, in the eyes of these villagers—who hadn't seen a scrap of meat all year and had almost eaten all the plow oxen—these two living creatures were simply more sacred than legendary unicorns.
Livestock like cattle and sheep were precious; one could say the value of a single plow ox was equivalent to the value of several people laboring for a whole year.
Therefore, the residents of these small villages around the Kingdom had rarely seen such livestock, let alone alive ones.
"Heavens, was it captured from another country?"
"Mother, what is a cow?"
"Look, that animal on the cart is a cow."
"I heard from people in Kree Village that His Majesty is amazing now; she even possesses 'Divine Arts'.
"She made green sprouts grow from the dead earth, and now she has brought back so many things from the neighboring country."
"Then will Kree Village be able to eat their fill this year? When will such a good thing happen to our village..."
An emotion named 'awe' fermented in the hearts of these people at the very bottom of society.
In their simple logic, one who could snatch wealth and kill people indiscriminately was a Tyrant.
But one who could conjure food and livestock, and make soldiers become so mighty and extraordinary, might... truly be a savior sent by God.
Delilah heard those whispers from the roadside.
If it were her past life, she would certainly have thought these villagers were ignorant.
Where in the world were there any Divine Arts or God-bestowed things? If the King of the Kingdom of Olan heard such talk, he would have long since dragged them off to be burned.
But at this moment, watching those villagers kneel by the roadside, witnessing the process of their eyes shifting from despair to fanaticism, a wondrous resonance actually arose in her heart.
She didn't need to explain anything at all.
________________________________________
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