Chapter 1433: Rebirth and Revival

As the constellation of Frostsky gradually climbed to its zenith, the chill of late autumn spread across the entire northern region. The alliance began to operate with unprecedented efficiency.

Post-war reconstruction, economic revitalization, the gathering and aid of war refugees, massive compensation efforts, and the continent-wide coordination of resources—all these undertakings were underway. One after another, new policies were rolled out by the member nations to stimulate the market and boost public morale. Things once unimaginable in the old era were now happening. The vast, isolated world seemed to have suddenly “shrunk” after this war. Even villagers in remote countryside areas found themselves surprised by the astonishing changes they learned about through newspapers, radio broadcasts, or travelers’ casual conversations.

As the Empire of Cecil often proclaimed in its external propaganda, the transcontinental sea routes and overland multinational trade networks were weaving the once-fragmented world into a unified whole. The spread and advancement of communication technologies expanded everyone’s horizons to places they had never imagined. Though the sudden wasteland war dealt heavy blows to many countries, it also greatly accelerated this process of “connection.”

In the Ogure Tribal Nation, large numbers of engineers from Cecil and the Dwarven Kingdom were arriving and taking their posts. Aid teams transported urgently needed bulk supplies via the transcontinental sea routes, multinational railways, and air corridors. Their efforts focused on several human, spirit, and orc cities severely damaged during the war, aiming to restore basic functions before the harsh winter set in. The goal was to accommodate as many refugees as possible and ease the burden on other regions.

Deep within the tribal nation, at the foot of the Ancestor Peak, in the city of Sainthelm—a city jointly governed by the five races—King Wickliff of the humans stood on the balcony of the upper chamber of the Great Council Hall. He overlooked the bustling city below, so crowded it was almost overwhelming. He rested both hands on the railing; his prosthetic arm of gleaming alloy caught the cold light of the setting sun. The scars left by the war had not diminished the king’s dignity; if anything, they lent him a steadier, more commanding presence than before.

On the streets below, the visible crowd was more than double the usual size. Among them were war refugees flooding into Sainthelm from all directions, opportunistic merchants, and engineers and technicians from other nations. This city, which held a special place in the hearts of the Ogure tribes, had once been a relaxed, slow-paced place. Now it bore a population and resource pressure far beyond its original design. The city’s officials were overwhelmed, and so were the five tribal leaders.

“The Dwarven Kingdom’s Guild of Artisans just sent word,” a voice came from nearby. “Tomorrow, a new team will cross the western mountain pass, led personally by Paladin Brightrock. They’re bringing a batch of large golems and many engineering machines designed and modified by the dwarves themselves. This should help ease the urgent reconstruction needs in the central region.”

Wickliff turned to see Stur, the spirit race leader, approaching the balcony’s edge. The tall figure with pale purple skin looked weary; even the ever-glowing magical light in his eyes seemed dimmer than usual.

“You look exhausted,” Wickliff said. “Your magical aura is weaker than usual. Maybe you should take a break.”

“Now is the critical moment,” Stur replied, shaking his head. “There’s too much to do, and I don’t trust handing it over to others. Besides, who else is there? Wenna is handling all external affairs, you’re dealing with the flood of war refugees at home, and Stella is leading the ‘Starbreakers’ at Ancestor Peak. No one has any free time.”

“Are you deliberately leaving someone out?” Before Stur could finish, a slightly husky, magnetic female voice interrupted with a hint of displeasure. Camilla, dressed in traditional orc attire, had quietly come up behind the two men. Her feline-like pale yellow vertical pupils scanned the spirit leader. “As if I’m useless.”

“Then why don’t you take charge of reconstruction and supply matters?” Stur glanced at Camilla, who was slowly raising her tail. “Waiting on your nod.”

Camilla’s tail instantly drooped, and she looked away.

Stur didn’t press the matter. Smiling faintly, he continued, “The good news is that, judging by current conditions, our personnel and material shortages aren’t severe. At this rate, we should get through the winter smoothly. Plus, we’ve secured priority allocation of Deep Blue Well’s magical energy for the next three years. That’s the best news for the energy-starved southern regions.”

Wickliff nodded slightly, his gaze still fixed on the city below. After a long silence, he spoke softly, “More and more merchants are pouring into the central region—from the opposite direction of the refugees.”

“The post-war recovery plan means opportunity for many,” Stur said tiredly. “Merchants always have the keenest nose for opportunity. We need them.”

“But we don’t need speculators,” Wickliff’s expression grew serious. “They produce nothing beyond market tension and supply-demand conflicts. My advisors have found a group of suspicious merchants from the south trying to manipulate the flow of goods. Their registration is dubious, likely exploiting the temporary chaos during the southern region’s fall. I’ve already identified some of them. My people are tracking the market’s supply routes to investigate more of these reckless profiteers.”

At Wickliff’s words, Camilla’s throat rumbled, and she grabbed the battle axe leaning against the wall, hoisting it onto her shoulder. “Fine, I’ll go chop them down.”

“Don’t let ‘chop them down’ be your only answer!” Wickliff shot her a sharp look. “Think about the risk of alerting others and the market pressure caused by unprepared actions!”

“This kind of thing was Wenna’s specialty,” Stur sighed. “Gray elves know how to deal with merchants—including those who break the rules. Unfortunately, she’s stretched thin, managing external affairs and ensuring normal trade between the Talrond region and the Cecil Empire. Here in Sainthelm, we have to figure it out ourselves. But no matter what, we can’t let those speculators continue. Even if it means using harsher methods, it’s for the greater order.”

“So basically, you want me to chop them down,” Camilla said, slinging the axe back onto her shoulder. “Why beat around the bush?”

“Can you try thinking a few steps ahead before deciding things?” Wickliff glared again. “By the way, why do you always bring that axe to council meetings? How did you even get it in here?”

“I packed it in my bag,” Camilla shrugged. “Isn’t it normal for women to carry extra stuff in their bags?”

Stur rubbed his temples, forcing himself to ignore the chaotic exchange unfolding before him. He pondered for a moment and said, “Speaking of Wenna’s expertise… actually, the true experts are the people of Cecil. Maybe we should learn from the wisdom of High Emperor Gawain Cecil. He established order in the southern territories during the most chaotic days of the old Ansu Kingdom, created a stable market environment despite lingering old powers, and even transformed customs in the stubborn northern regions. How did they deal with speculators?”

At this, Wickliff’s expression grew thoughtful. He seemed to recall some things Wenna had told him, his face turning a bit strange. Then he looked at Camilla, who was clutching her axe with a disappointed expression. “Well, you go chop them down then.”

Camilla: “…Huh?”

“Physical elimination is the best way to deal with those who profiteer during disasters. We don’t have the time or energy to slowly resolve the supply-demand pressure they cause,” Wickliff said seriously. “Maybe in other times, we could handle it more gradually. But now… you’ve seen the situation in Sainthelm, and the conditions in other cities outside can’t be any better. We need a strong signal to quickly restore Sainthelm’s authority—and that will help stabilize the people’s hearts.”

…

Amid the thunderous roar of heavy engineering machinery, massive earth and stone were instantly transformed into a soft, muddy substance. Then, after the polarity of the spellcasting units at the machine’s front reversed, the ground hardened into a smooth, stone-like surface. Several workers in Cecil engineering uniforms busily directed the machines or coordinated nearby teams. The site was hectic but orderly.

Powerful magical crystal lamps illuminated the construction zone. Though the sun had dipped near the horizon, the intense work continued unabated.

At the far end of the site, the earth abruptly dropped away like a cliff, revealing a massive circular pit large enough to hold an entire city. From its center erupted a magnificent, dazzling blue flame, shooting skyward as if to ignite the heavens.

Between the crystal spire at the pit’s center and the sheer cliffs at its edge, numerous bright lights and ongoing construction could be seen. Engineers from the three great empires worked feverishly, inspecting energy node access points that had remained sealed since the fall of the Gondor Empire. They studied these ancient technologies—once the stuff of bards’ and scholars’ imaginations—and built modern magical energy conversion facilities based on them.

Master Architect Gordon stood on a high platform at the edge of “Energy Station One,” overlooking the site and the chain of construction zones beyond. A proud expression lit the face of this old southern craftsman. Watching the roaring machines at dusk, he looked every bit the general reviewing his troops.

Beside him stood a tall, elegant figure—a high-ranking star mage with the silver elves’ signature golden hair and long pointed ears. She wore a richly adorned robe befitting her rank. A pale purple magical orb floated nearby, automatically recording the scene and magical fluctuations in the air. Within the orb, a faint projection shaped like an eye shimmered.

“I’ve heard Lady Sonia describe your Cecil people’s ‘infrastructure magic,’ but seeing it firsthand is truly different from hearsay,” the high star mage said with admiration. Proud as a silver elf, she rarely praised other races in technical matters, but when it came to the Cecilians, she never held back. “You’ve transformed magic into such a convenient tool, and the process is so… streamlined. It’s completely unlike the intricate, classical magic we know, yet there’s a strange elegance to it.”

“Thank you very much for your kind words, Lady Verania—though I’m afraid I’m no expert in magic. I’m more comfortable dealing with machines and stone, and honestly, those machines work just fine for me.” Gordon shrugged. When he first met this Archmage from the Silver Empire, he’d been quite reserved—not just because of her formidable power and high status, but also due to her striking beauty and the composed, regal air that comes from years in a position of authority. But after a few days together, that initial stiffness had faded. This elven lady was far more approachable than outsiders might expect, especially when the conversation turned to technology—she wasn’t all that different from those quirky folks led by Princess Rebecca.

“It’s precisely because someone like you—‘only skilled with machines and stone’—can harness magical power so effectively to build such massive projects that makes magitech so elegant,” Verania said with a smile, her gaze drifting toward the deep blue wellspring of arcane flame not far off. “At this rate, we might be ready to test the conversion array of Energy Station One by next spring.”

“Actually, it could be even sooner,” Gordon said confidently after a moment’s thought. “Our conversion array uses more efficient prefabricated modules, and parts are already being manufactured simultaneously at several factories—Grant Heavy Industries and Northern Heavy Industries among them. It’s possible the array could be installed on the base before the energy conduits in the ‘Ring Pit’ are even connected. Then we can start converting the magic from the Deep Blue Well into standardized mana for transmission through the ley network… The entire project could be finished as early as mid-Mistmoon, and at the latest by early Frostmoon.”

Verania looked at the proud, confident human architect with a hint of surprise. As the night deepened around them, she seemed to see a certain light in him—a radiance belonging to a rising, unstoppable people.

“Master Verania?” Gordon shifted awkwardly under her gaze, rubbing the back of his neck. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No… I apologize, that was rude of me,” she said with a smile, shaking her head. “It’s just… I suddenly find myself a little envious of you. The Silver Elves haven’t been this ambitious about grand projects in many years.”

“I don’t see it that way,” Gordon shrugged again, pointing toward the source of the Deep Blue Well’s surge. “Hundreds, maybe thousands of elven mages have flocked to the Deep Blue Well like it’s a sale on discounted eggs. You can see Silver Elves everywhere on the construction sites, acting as magical consultants and antiquarians. Even across the entire Talash Plain, your presence is unmistakable. It’s a sight I’ve never witnessed in my life—our boldest bards and playwrights wouldn’t dare dream it up.”

“So that’s how you see it…” Verania’s expression shifted from surprise to a warm smile. “Then I’ll take that as a compliment, Great Architect—though I must admit, I have no idea what ‘discounted eggs’ refers to.”

Beneath the clear night sky of the wasteland, the Archmage of the Silver Elves and the human Empire’s chief architect continued to overlook the rising energy station. In the distance, the purification device that had fulfilled its historic mission still radiated residual heat, its magnificent beam stretching endlessly toward the horizon. On the tallest crane tower at the site, lights illuminated a string of enormous letters, written in both human and elven common tongues, shining brightly:

“Deep Blue Well Mana Transmission Project — Energy Station One Demonstration Site.”

(End of chapter)