Chapter 219: A New Venture

On this land ruled by the Cecil family, Amber was probably one of the very few who dared to question Gawain’s decisions. Although, more often than not, the half-elf lady’s bold challenges stemmed less from independent thought and more from having an uncontrollable mouth, Gawain was nonetheless pleased to see that not everyone here blindly obeyed him. It meant there was still some semblance of independent thinking… well, in Amber’s case, maybe just a sharp tongue.

It was difficult for Gawain to fully explain all his ideas to Amber in such a short time. He could only give her a rough overview of the industrial structure and the concept of technological gaps. As for the deeper economic and political interests, or the long-term control over the Leslie domain, he kept those to himself.

Regardless, Amber took his orders seriously. The very next day, she set out as the Cecil domain’s envoy, delivering a handwritten letter from Duke Gawain Cecil himself to Viscount Andrew at his castle.

Andrew’s response came even faster than Gawain had expected. He readily accepted the invitation on the spot. By the third day after Amber’s return, the viscount arrived at the Cecil domain’s dock aboard a swift ship.

The last time Gawain had seen Viscount Andrew, the man was weakened and corrupted by dark magic. But after a period of rest and recovery, Andrew Leslie had regained his health. He wore a thick, warm dark red coat, his hair neatly combed, accompanied by a newly hired butler. He also brought a small escort of ten soldiers and a commercial advisor—naturally, the advisor was for the “business” Gawain had mentioned in his letter, while the soldiers were there to maintain the noble’s proper appearance.

Andrew took in a Cecil domain that was completely different from what he had imagined.

The brand-new, orderly houses and the common folk walking the streets left a deep impression on him. He was especially curious about the fact that all the houses he saw belonged to citizens—where, then, did the serfs and lower classes live? Compared to Patrick, who lacked noble blood, the viscount was far steadier and more composed. From the moment he disembarked until he was led into the lord’s manor, he maintained an air of calm elegance. Even sitting in Gawain Cecil’s reception room, he showed none of the over-the-top curiosity or shock one might expect from a rustic noble.

That is, until Betty poured him an entire kettle of tea.

The southern lands were known for their simple, honest folk—though, more importantly, everyone seemed to have a tendency to overthink things. Like Patrick, Viscount Andrew spent the first half-kettle of tea speculating about the deeper meaning behind Gawain’s arrangement of a maid constantly refilling his cup…

Betty, standing there with the large teapot, was completely unaware that she had been cast in the role of some mysterious, profound figure. She was simply daydreaming, staring at the decorative swords hanging on the wall, quietly reviewing new vocabulary and grammar she had recently learned, while also keeping an eye on when the guest’s cup needed refilling. By the time she had recited the word list twice, Gawain appeared.

“Viscount Andrew, I’m glad to see you’ve recovered your health,” Gawain greeted warmly as he entered. “I heard that Tansan Town has fully restored order. That’s excellent news.”

“All thanks to your help. Without your large ore orders, I doubt I could have even repaired the big hole in the castle this winter,” Andrew said with a broad smile, somewhat exaggerating. “So when I heard you wanted to discuss a new business deal in person, I came immediately.”

“It is indeed a new venture, but it’s not easy to discuss here. If you don’t mind, would you like to visit the Cecil domain’s mines?”

“The mines?” Andrew frowned. “You mentioned in your letter that you have some new mining equipment for sale, but the Leslie family has been mining for generations. I’m quite familiar with all kinds of mining tools… hic—ah, pardon me.”

“No worries, no worries,” Gawain waved off the hiccup, though inwardly curious why the viscount’s hiccups echoed so strangely. Then he smiled and explained, “It’s still necessary to see them in person, because what I’m selling is probably unlike anything you’ve seen before.”

Having said that, Andrew naturally agreed to the mine visit—and took the opportunity to ask where the restroom was.

The Cecil mines lay to the east of the domain. Initially, it was just a small excavation site, but with the domain’s rapid development and growing demand for ore, the mines became the second-largest construction project after the central district of Cecil City. Massive manpower, resources, and advanced machinery were brought in. The site gradually transformed from a few tents into a village with a dozen or so houses, then into a small town. New brick buildings had been erected, roads paved with slag and cement, and a wide main road connected the mining town to Cecil City, ensuring smooth flow of people and goods.

Thanks to convenient transportation, Gawain and his guest reached the mining town by carriage in under two hours.

Viscount Andrew maintained his calm and composed demeanor until the very end of the journey. Whether it was the ubiquitous magic crystal lamps, the straight, smooth roads, the hardworking townsfolk braving winter, or the strange noises coming from the factories on the town’s edge, he tried not to show too much surprise. Though these things exceeded his expectations, they did not surpass his imagination. He was amazed that the once-declining Cecil family—nearly forced to sell noble titles to survive—had built such a domain in so short a time. But he could rationalize it all: “Gawain Cecil dug up the family’s buried fortune and used it to build this place.” That explanation made everything understandable.

That is, until he saw something utterly beyond comprehension, explanation, or even imagination.

“What… what is that?!”

Before Andrew stood a massive machine, astonishingly powerful, pulling a winch that dragged several carts of heavy ore from the deep mine—ore that would have required dozens of slaves to move. The machine emitted a low, thunderous roar like a giant’s bellow. Its huge circular mechanism on the side spun relentlessly with unstoppable momentum. Every part seemed forged from steel, yet these lifeless components operated as if alive—emotionless, tireless, immensely strong, and somehow majestic in their cold, iron presence.

After a stunned pause, Andrew finally noticed a faint magical glow at the machine’s core. His speech slowly returned: “Is this… a magical device? Some kind of hybrid between magical and mechanical engineering?”

“You could say that,” Gawain smiled. “This is what I want to sell you. And that’s just one of them. If you come further, you’ll see more machines—here in the Cecil domain, most of the heavy labor in the mines is done by these machines.”

Andrew’s astonishment grew. He knew mining and was familiar with all the usual equipment, but he never imagined that “mining tools” could be these… steel giants. As he examined the massive machines, he quickly noticed the incredible precision hidden beneath their rough exteriors—the perfectly fitted parts, the precisely coordinated linkages, and the rapidly shifting magical arrays operating without any human control. How on earth were these monsters made?

“Is this… ancient Gondor Empire magic technology?!” Andrew finally asked, thinking he’d found the only plausible explanation. He slowly turned to look Gawain in the eye.

“This is a design my technical experts and I developed ourselves. Of course, if you want to think of me as a direct descendant of the ancient Gondor Empire, and thus consider this ‘ancient Gondor technology,’ that’s fine too,” Gawain replied vaguely, deliberately dodging the question. Then he looked at Andrew’s reaction. “So, are you interested in these ‘magitech devices’?”

“As long as you’re willing to sell!” Andrew said, eyes wide.

“You can probably tell these machines are incredibly difficult to manufacture. The cost of making one is not cheap, so the price is naturally high. Depending on size and complexity, the cost ranges from several hundred to several thousand Cecil gold coins. And since making these requires the involvement of supernaturals, labor costs… well, you can imagine,” Gawain said calmly. But before Andrew’s smile faded completely, he added, “Of course, that’s the price when selling to others. If I sell to a neighbor, I only charge material costs—and if you’re in a pinch, you can even pay with ore.”

Andrew felt a strong temptation.

He knew these machines weren’t cheap, but he also knew how many men’s strength they replaced.

One winch alone could match the power of dozens or even hundreds of slaves. One crusher could pulverize in half a day what all the stone-breaking slaves in Tansan mines did. Buying these machines would cost a fortune, but the return on investment would be incredibly fast. Once the costs were recouped, Tansan Town—and the entire Leslie domain—would enjoy unprecedented profits.

Moreover, the magical components didn’t seem overly complex. After breaking even, he might even recruit a team of rune craftsmen and experts in magical arrays to study how these things worked…

At that moment, Gawain’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “By the way, Viscount Andrew, there’s one more thing you should know: these machines don’t run on their own. You probably noticed—there’s no mage here providing energy.”

“Hmm… I was curious about that,” Andrew said, stroking his chin. “I didn’t see any mages controlling the machines, nor anyone charging them… Do they have large-capacity mana crystals inside?”

“They also require a supporting ‘magic network’ technology. That’s something I want to discuss with you in detail…”

(End of chapter)