Northern Coastline of Jo,

  The salty breeze swept across the northern coastline of Jo as Richard and the other fishermen stood watg the knights b over a makeshift structure. A sloped bed of stones interspersed with branches was being carefully assembled, an essential step in produg ice—vital for preserving the fish during their long journey back.

  Richard crossed his arms, his skeptical gaze fixed on the process. “I still ’t believe Her Highness’s method actually worked,” he muttered, recalling the experiment they had ducted before departing on this expedition.

  Hughes nodded while issuing instrus to his men. “It’s nothing short of genius,” he admitted, his toeady. “But it’s w, and that’s all that matters. Now, enough gawki moving. You o start setting up traps for the magical beasts.”

  Richard gave a curt nod and rallied the fishermen. Together, they headed toward the coastline, where they began strug a series of intricate traps desigo enshe Mira and Maverick fish.

  Meanwhile, the knights pressed on with their task. From pots they had carried with them, they retrieved foul-smelling seagull guano, carefully spreading it across the sloped stone bed. Despite the stench, they e, knowing the process was essential for their isnd’s survival.

  “Pour the water gently,” Hughes instructed, watg closely as the knights carefully trickled water onto the guano. The nitrates dissolved into a liquid that dripped into a tainer pced below the bed. They repeated the process several times until they had enough of the solution. The knights then poured the liquid into shallow tainers and positiohem uhe bzing afternoon sun.

  “Noait for the water to evaporate,” Hughes expined, his voice calm but firm, “leaving behind saltpeter crystals at the bottom. While that happens, we’ll begin digging a small cave to freeze the water.”

  The knights responded with a unified nod, quickly shifting their focus to the sandy dunes nearby. Using shovels and their bare hands, they worked to carve out a small, airtight cave with a sirahe structure o retain as much cold as possible for their ice-making process to succeed.

  At the same time, the fishermen were busy with their own task. They set up a rge along the coastlis mesh interwoven with small bdes to trap and injure any magical beasts that might get caught. To enhahe trap’s effectiveness, they carefully arraorches in a deliberate pattern.

  “The light will attract the fish,” Richard expio the younger fishermen, his voice tinged with experience. “And when the fish e, the magical beasts hunting them will follow. They’ll get caught i—and with any luck, the bdes will take care of the rest.”

  By the time the trap was plete, the sun had begun its dest toward the horizon, casting the coastline in hues e and gold. The knights, too, had made progress. They scraped saltpeter crystals from the shallow tainers and stored them carefully, readying themselves for the step in their experiment.

  Richard approached Hughes, wiping sweat from his brow. “Ser Hughes, should we start setting up camp now?”

  Hughes nodded, dividing the knights into two groups. “Half of you, start assembling the camp,” he ordered. “The rest of us will begin the ice-making process.”

  The knights gathered water ihen pots, ing eae i cloth to enhahe cooling effect. Carefully measured quantities of saltpeter were then dissolved into the water, l its freezing point. The prepared pots were carried into the sand dune cave, where they were carefully pced to ensure maximum exposure to the cold.

  “By m, the water should freeze into ice,” Hughes said with a rare smile, his fidence lifting the spirits of those around him.

  As the st rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, the team worked together to plete their tasks. The knights pitched tents and lit campfires, while the fishermen double-checked the traps and prepared for the night’s vigil.

  With the coastlihed in the soft glow of moonlight and torches, Hughes stood overlooking the camp. Despite the challenges of the day, a sense of aplishment hung in the air.

  Jo City, Bcksmith’s Workshop

  The soft hum of the fe and the rhythmiging of hammers filled the air in the bcksmith's workshop. Sparks flew as molteal was shaped and molded with precision, casting a warm glow across the stone walls. In a quiet er of the workshop, Ravenna and Marie sat, their expressions a mix of curiosity and impatience as they observed the work unfold.

  The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, and the workshop was illuminated by the flickering light of nterns and the r fe. Despite the steady progress being made, the hours felt excruciatingly long to Ravenna, who finally broke the sileh an irritated tone.

  “hough you’ve finished most of it, why the dey now?” she asked, her sharp voice cutting through the sounds of the workshop. Her arms were crossed, and her pierg gaze was fixed on the head bcksmith, who was hunched over a workbench.

  raightened up, wiping the sweat from his brow. His hands were stained with soot, and his expression carried the weariness of a man who had been w tirelessly. Despite his exhaustion, he maintained a respectful tone as he replied, “Just a moment more, Yhness. We entered a small mishap during the welding process, but it’s nothing we ’t fix. Give us a few more minutes, and we’ll have it ready.”

  Ravenna raised an eyebrow, her impatience barely cealed. “A mishap?” she repeated, her tone skeptical.

  Nille nodded nervously, gesturing toward a traption on the workbench. It was a plex assembly of gears, springs, and levers—an intricate meism that was clearly nearing pletion. “Yes, Yhness. The welding didn’t hold as well as we anticipated. We’re reinf the joins now to ehe iy of the meism. Ohis is done, you’ll have the first w prototype of this.. Thing called a meical clock.”

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