Mist Empire’s Rise: Fake Noble to Fog Queen

"Misty Plains?" Zachary froze a second; then his red beard flared up. "The Misty Plains are just a tale bards made up to swindle tips. You think you can fob me off with that? Not happening!"

"Believe it or don't—up to you," Luo Wei said, unconcerned.

"I don't!" Zachary snapped. "If a place like that really existed, we people of the Western Continent would've found it already. All those adventurers have gone out and not one has found that 'continent.' I'm supposed to believe you just because you say so?"

"Our Misty Plains isn't somewhere any stray cat or cur can wander into," Luo Wei glanced at him. "Whether you believe me has nothing to do with me."

"And with that attitude, I don't see any basis for doing business. Sigh—what a waste of my time."

She shook her head in put-on annoyance, turned, and started out. "Patrick, let's go."

"Wait!" Seeing she truly meant to leave, Zachary's tone flipped. He shouted, "What business are you talking about?"

"Didn't Mr. Bunian call it my nonsense?" Luo Wei paused. "What—changed your mind already?"

Zachary stood, the top of his head almost scraping the low stone ceiling, beard quivering with anger. "I just want to hear what other ridiculous lies you can spin, you shameless brat."

"Then I'm afraid you'll be disappointed," Luo Wei turned back, a not‑quite smile on her lips. "Because what I'm about to say is about you—and it's true."

Zachary frowned, impatient. "Quit dawdling. Out with it."

"Fine, straight, then." Luo Wei's red lips curved. "Mr. Bunian—I want the men under your hand."

Zachary's eyes went hard. "Men? I'm a slave trader, not a lord. Where would I get 'men'?"

"You don't? Then why be a slave trader?"

"For money—obviously!"

"A Mystical Smith who can earn a thousand gold for forging one sword, yet has to peddle slaves for profit?" Luo Wei laughed. "First time I've seen someone lower his own worth like that, Mr. Bunian."

Zachary snorted. "Because I feel like it."

Luo Wei turned fully back, walking right up to the bars, gaze deep. "Let me guess—you're still so cocky even as a captive because you think someone's coming to rescue you?"

A flicker crossed Zachary's eyes, but he only glared, silent.

"But it's been two months. Why hasn't your rescue arrived?"

Luo Wei covered her mouth in mock surprise. "Oh no—don't tell me they've given up on you?"

"Or," she added with feigned pity, "you're just a deputy. Not worth the trouble to extract."

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Zachary's beard lifted in scorn. "Such a vivid imagination. Go perform a play, little one—your creativity's wasted here."

Luo Wei lowered her hand and smiled slowly. "No rush, Mr. Bunian. I haven't said the third possibility."

"You built a decent-sized force and you are, in their eyes, the undisputed head. Yet they still haven't come. Why?"

"They don't dare, do they? They're afraid of exposing themselves."

"That's what's strange," she spread her hands. "They're not rebels, not Dark Deity cultists. So why are they afraid to show up?"

Zachary's face finally shifted; his tone went cold. "I don't know what you're talking about, Miss Luo Wei. Your storytelling talent is… impressive."

"Maybe." Luo Wei smiled faintly. "Alright—story time's over. That's it for today."

"Goodbye, Mr. Bunian." This time she turned and did not stop. "When you figure things out, I'll come back."

Luo Wei left with Patrick. The stone door shut; silence reclaimed the cave.

Zachary stood in the cramped chamber, his tall frame forced into a hunch, eyes fixed on the direction the girl had gone.

The Misty Plains—was she really royalty from there?

Why would Misty Plains royalty come to the Western Continent?

To seize territory?

He kept insisting he didn't believe her, yet deep down he knew no other explanation fit events as neatly as what she'd said.

It neatly explained why he'd never heard of her before—and why Demon Island suddenly had an owner.

So there was another continent's design behind it all.

…

Though she hadn't won Zachary over, Luo Wei wasn't discouraged.

Today's probe met her goal: she'd confirmed he did, in fact, control men.

Forcing him to hand over his force outright would be difficult; that wasn't what she wanted anyway. Her ideal outcome was him agreeing to help her recruit.

As a northern slave trader, he'd know exactly how to move and conceal people.

Demon Island was still under construction, and the God of Death had run off with Stasi; defenses were thin. Stockpiling troops and mounts had to be done quietly.

Luo Wei was certain Zachary would approach her before long. His attitude already showed tiny cracks. Helping her was only a matter of time.

She wanted Zachary to propose the idea himself—building her army, investing both his money and labor.

Night had fallen by the time Luo Wei returned to Star Luo Residence through the teleportation array.

She had an appointment with Hessel tonight—she needed to get back to the Academy early.

Half a month earlier she'd given Hessel two pieces of parchment: one with a helicopter rotor design, one with basic physics formulas annotated by her.

Hessel had buried herself in study for over ten days. Yesterday she'd found Luo Wei to say she'd built a scaled‑down helicopter and invited her to watch its test flight tonight.

Under the night sky, the two girls climbed to the rooftop of Rose Castle.

Hessel set the model helicopter down and activated wind Magic Runes. The rotor spun at high speed and the craft lifted.

"How is it?" she asked. "The inside's hollow so it can carry things. The windows open, and I put a rudder in front to steer."

"It's great—I didn't think you'd finish a model so fast," Luo Wei praised. "But—is all the power for this model supplied by Magic Runes?"

"Yes," Hessel said. "Magic Runes have no weight. If we used fuel, it'd be much heavier."

"The idea's sound, but." Luo Wei paused. "If all power comes from magical elements, it won't cross the ocean to reach the Misty Plains."

"Why not?" Hessel was puzzled.

"Have you heard of the Fog Belt?" Luo Wei sighed. "It's a magic‑dead zone—any magic fails there. And the fog holds a kind of magic‑eating insect. If the aircraft has a gap, they crawl in and gnaw a person to bare bone."

Hessel's eyes widened. "A magic‑dead zone—and magic‑eating insects!"

No wonder so many powerful adventurers and mercenaries vanished in the Fog Belt.

"The sea's that dangerous!"

"Otherwise I wouldn't be trapped here," Luo Wei said with a bitter smile.

Hessel gave her a sympathetic look. "Don't worry. Once I become a Master Mystical Smith, I'll send you back first."

"Alright." Luo Wei smiled. "I'll be waiting."

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