Third day, outside the East Gate of the Royal Capital.

Nightingale hid in the mist, quietly watching the group of ragged refugees. Under Echo's telepathic ability, they were gathered wave after wave, following the knight Brian slowly toward the pier.

Now they no longer had to wander around the edges of the refugee camp like the previous two days, gradually dispersing and leading people away. The large-scale transfer of refugees had also alerted those who remained, and as long as a wave of people was pulled away from the edge, more would follow. Even the guards on the city wall noticed what was happening at the foot of the wall, but for them, they couldn't wait for these stinky refugees to get out of their sight.

The whole plan was progressing very smoothly. There were very few refugees left in the eastern district, and those from the northern gate were actively approaching this side. Probably before sunset, everyone could leave smoothly by boat.

While everyone else was busy, she seemed relatively idle—Echo was surrounded by layers of "mercenaries" responsible for escorting, and Lily was manufacturing purification water under the heavy protection of the First Army, making her guard duty seem somewhat redundant.

Only when the "mercenaries" scattered to carry the immobile and critically ill did she need to be more vigilant. Just then, Nightingale saw Echo look up at the magnificent East Gate and sigh softly.

"What's wrong?" she asked, walking over.

"Nothing, I'm just a little emotional," Echo said, her expression somewhat sad, "Before I was sold into the Royal Capital, I suffered a lot along the way. I thought the Graycastle people were so cruel to me because of my identity as a desert folk from another race. Now it seems that they are equally ruthless to their own people, and there is not much difference from those in Iron Sand City."

Thinking of Echo's experience as a slave, Nightingale didn't know how to comfort her for a moment, and finally she could only pat her on the shoulder, "But not everyone is like that. There are still many kind-hearted people, such as the sisters of the Cooperative, such as... Roland."

"Do you think... can His Highness really stop the conflict?" Echo whispered, "Can the mainland kingdoms, the desert people, the Fjords, or ordinary people and witches, live together freely and peacefully without having to fight each other?"

"If it's His Highness, I think he can," Nightingale replied in an affirmative tone, "It's not the strange machines and the amazing artillery that give me this feeling, but himself... I always feel that His Highness and we are not the same kind of people."

"Of course he's not the same kind of person as us, he's the prince of Graycastle."

"No, it has nothing to do with identity," she shook her head, "I can't say where this sense of difference comes from, it's just intuition. Maybe only someone like His Highness can come up with so many weird theories... He even wants to repeatedly study the witches' abilities clearly, and his thinking is different from others. Anyway, I won't be surprised no matter what amazing things he creates."

"You really have confidence in him," Echo chuckled, and the sadness on her face faded a lot, "I hope that when that day comes, I can also return to the far south and take a look."

Confidence? In some ways yes, but in some ways... she had no confidence at all. Nightingale couldn't help but look in the direction of the Western Territory, wondering what he was doing while she was away? Was he busy with those drawings and strange machines, or was he with Anna...? She shook her head vigorously, dispelling these distracting thoughts.

Anyway, after today is over, she will be able to set off back to Border Town, Nightingale thought, and then just ask him directly, anyway, he can't lie in front of her.

...

When returning to the camp for rest at noon, Lightning also landed slowly.

These days, she patrolled in the sky under the scorching sun, and she was really the hardest worker in the team. Especially in order to conceal her figure, Lightning had to put on a "sky camouflage" jacket specially made by Soroya, wrapping her body tightly and covering even her hair. This dress, which Roland had given a strange name, was obviously not designed for aesthetics. Its exterior was painted with a mixture of light blue and gray-white patterns, which almost blended into the background when flying in the air. Unless you looked closely, it was difficult to spot her presence.

The first thing the little girl did after landing was to take off her jacket and grab a water bag to drink. Nightingale saw that

her clothes inside were soaked with sweat, and her forehead and the tip of her nose were covered with sweat. There was a circle of marks left by the goggles on her fair cheeks.

"You've worked hard," Nightingale squatted down and helped her wipe away the sweat.

"Fortunately, these people are not endlessly rushing in from the Eastern Territory," Lightning stuck out her tongue, "Otherwise, I would really be dizzy from the sun."

"Can we go home tomorrow?" Lily walked to Lightning's side listlessly, "I haven't taken a shower for several days, and I feel uncomfortable all over."

Nightingale couldn't help but laugh. When she was in the Cooperative, everyone didn't have time to take a bath for more than half a month, and she didn't see anyone complaining. Now it's only been a little over a week. She suddenly thought that the bathroom and the soap might all be Roland's "conspiracy"—since he invented those strange and useful things, it would be difficult for the witches to make up their minds to leave Border Town.

However, the peace did not last until the end of the transport. After lunch, Tassa, who went to the Royal Capital to inquire about information, brought bad news.

"You mean... Dream Water is gathering his men and planning to surround the pier?" Iron Axe frowned.

"It's 'perhaps' planning to surround the pier," Tassa corrected, "The first part is a definite fact, and the second part is too bizarre, so my informant is not sure. Now other black street organizations in the Royal Capital have taken action to prevent Dream Water from suddenly attacking their territory. However, rather than saying that 'surrounding the pier' is a smokescreen deliberately released by the other party, I believe that they leaked the news themselves in the middle—this is very common for rats. After all, most of the members of the black street organizations are hooligans or scum, and they are not a tight organization at all. If the information is correct, then Dream Water must have been instructed by a certain force, otherwise it would be very difficult for them to leave their territory."

"A bunch of rats," Iron Axe said indifferently, "Will these people running around affect your medicine selling plan?"

"It shouldn't," Tassa said, "They can't interfere with the patrol team, so it's unlikely to hinder me from entering and exiting the side door. As for after entering the city, Skull Finger will provide protection for the convoy transporting the medicine. I'm just worried about you, because I have to stay in the city tonight to supervise the sale of purification water, and I'm afraid I won't be able to see you off tomorrow morning."

"It doesn't matter," Iron Axe patted him on the arm, "We'll see you again when His Highness comes to the Royal Capital in person."

As Nightingale had expected, as dusk approached, the last batch of sailing ships carrying refugees slowly left the pier and headed towards Silverlight City. The remaining three hundred or so people who were unwilling to leave the Royal Capital were ordered to be dismissed by Iron Axe.

Then everyone retreated to the other side of the canal, waiting for the night to fall.