Chapter 246: Amber’s Return

For Kamail, this was an entirely new era—almost a new world.

The mighty Gondor Empire, the supreme glory of humanity, the advanced magical technologies—all the brilliance he remembered had vanished like smoke and clouds. A thousand years can erase much; the magnificent civilizations humans once built now seemed insignificant before the relentless passage of time.

To be honest, he felt deeply out of place.

But having been imprisoned in the Shadow Realm for a millennium had forged in him a will far stronger than most. Such an ordeal usually leads to one of two outcomes: either a descent into hysterical madness or a transcendent calm beyond ordinary men.

He had already endured the hysterical phase—and was fortunate enough to emerge into a state of clear-headed reflection.

So he knew he had to face reality, accept this new era, and at the very least understand the environment in which he now had to survive.

He’d heard that humanity had suffered a massive break in technology and society. The nations of today had essentially rebuilt from scratch on a wild, untamed land. Through conversations with local lords, he learned of many astonishing things—technological regression and the barbarism of contemporary humans left him dumbfounded—though physiologically, he no longer reacted with surprise. The only consolation was that an ancient lord, like himself risen from the grave, still bore the proud blood of Gondor. Under his governance, this frontier land was not quite so savage.

That was Kamail’s greatest stroke of luck.

Guided by Gawain, he arrived at the mechanical workshop on the eastern edge of the territory. This place, dedicated to developing machinery, felt oddly familiar. Though the machines here differed greatly from the magical workshops of ancient Gondor, the atmosphere was recognizable: technicians absorbed in research and creation, new ideas clashing and sparking in the workspaces. It was a good place for study and innovation.

A silver-white metal sphere, its surface painted with an exaggerated smiling face, floated up to Kamail. He stared in astonishment as the sphere bobbed gently before him, a metallic, vibrating voice emanating from within: “Hello, I heard you were coming.”

Kamail was stunned again—this time mentally. Around him, the technicians—ordinary people with no magical aura, whose involvement in magic research was a mystery to him—watched with curious and respectful eyes. Realizing the sphere was likely the head of this place, he asked in surprise, “You are…?”

“You can call me Nicholas ‘Egg Boss,’ or just Egg Boss for short,” the sphere bobbed modestly. “I’m the director of the Cecil Mechanical Workshop and the lead sphere of the mechanical research department.”

“I’m Kamail Slane. Just call me Kamail,” he said awkwardly. He hadn’t expected to be conversing with a talking sphere. He finally recalled the lord had mentioned many strange beings like himself existed in this land—and he had clearly underestimated that.

“The lord sent me to learn from you… about how to adapt to this society. He said you were also found in the Rebellious Fortress.”

“Ah, the Rebellious Fortress… we finally figured out the name of that ruin. Come with me, I’ll show you around and explain the technical path we’re taking,” Nicholas Egg Boss turned, his silver, comical face scanning the technicians nearby. “What are you all crowding around for? Have you finished the impact resistance tests on the new rune substrates?!”

The technicians dispersed, and the giant silver egg continued, “I really did come from there. A thousand years ago, I was inside the Rebellious Fortress, but I was in the middle layer, not where you were.”

“You were really part of the fortress back then?” Kamail stared at the metal sphere in amazement. “My goodness… I thought my own transformation was extreme enough. What kind of research did you do there?”

Nicholas Egg slowed his floating slightly. “…I was the subject of research.”

Kamail: “…”

“That experience wasn’t pleasant, but if you have time, I can tell you more,” Nicholas said, drifting forward. “Right now, we’re passing the first assembly workshop. You can see how industrial power is built on this land. Most of these machines are inspired by our lord’s ideas, but the detailed designs are now done by me and the technicians. Occasionally, other departments send designs and orders, and we manufacture them.”

“…Almost all ordinary people…” Kamail looked around the workshop in surprise. “Where are their mage masters? Do they just let these commoners handle magical devices at will?”

“Mage ‘masters’? There are no mage ‘masters’ here,” Nicholas buzzed. “You must completely forget your old habits. These skilled magitech technicians don’t need any mage masters to guide them. What restrains them are the workshop’s operating procedures and safety regulations. And the mages in the territory are never called masters under any circumstances. Their job is to do research in labs and teach students in schools.”

“…I think I really need time to adjust to all this.”

“You’d better adapt quickly,” Nicholas said. “Next, we’ll head to the mechanical processing center. I’ll show you how ordinary people use magical devices to manufacture parts.”

…

Amber had returned to the territory, accompanied by over a hundred lively, down-to-earth social activists with distinct personalities.

Even as winter set in, the Cecil territory maintained an astonishing pace of construction, with new changes every day. Standing in the town square at the entrance, Amber noticed that the “Merchants’ Hall,” which had been just a framework when she left, was now topped out. A newly built mechanical lifting device was ferrying lightweight building materials to the upper floors. She couldn’t help but sigh, “Good thing I came back early… another half month and I’d probably be asking for directions.”

Scar-faced Anton and the witch Jipri, stepping down from the caravan, gawked at the scene. They hadn’t expected the Cecil territory, barely a year old, to be so developed. Nor had they imagined that in this icy winter, there was a territory thriving so vibrantly.

They came from the northern part of the Leslie territory, one of the few prosperous regions in the kingdom’s southern border. Even so, their town was bleak in winter. People stayed indoors, the poor rationed their meager supplies, the wealthy huddled by fireplaces waiting for spring, and lawless types like them drowned their sorrows in taverns with strong homemade brews. This was their idea of a “normal winter.” The Cecil territory’s bustling life and construction in the biting cold was something they’d never heard of.

But before they could be swept up by the atmosphere, these ruffians, scoundrels, con artists, and thieves first felt tension and unease. They could see the orderly town and the neatly armored security patrols on the streets. Such a town was clearly “tricky” for people like them.

Used to a life of petty theft and dodging patrols, these “social activists” weren’t yet comfortable with this legal entry. They even forgot they had permission to enter…

Anton, as their leader when Amber left, stepped forward to ask her, “Boss, is this really the Cecil territory?”

“Of course it is,” Amber turned back, frowning at the shivering and shifty-eyed crowd just off the caravan, and scolded loudly, “Pull yourselves together! Heads up! Weren’t you all loud and proud on the road? Why so meek now? You’re hired by the lord, not sneaking across the border!”

Gathered in the square, they were quite conspicuous. The patrolling security soon noticed the commotion and a squad approached. Witch Jipri spotted the armored soldiers from afar and nervously warned Amber, “Boss, soldiers are coming!”

The others tensed instinctively, but Amber just smirked, waved, and called out, “Hey! I’m here!”

The patrol captain finally recognized the leader and hurried forward, snapping a salute. “Miss Amber! The lord is already waiting for you!”

He glanced at the hundred or so newcomers and smiled. “The lord also instructed that if you brought people, you can take them to the old barracks north of Knight Street to rest. It’s all prepared.”

“Got it,” Amber nodded. “But these people aren’t well-behaved. I’m worried they might cause trouble…”

“The old barracks aren’t in use anymore, so it won’t affect anyone…”

“No, I mean if they cause trouble, I’ll be the one to teach them a lesson. Don’t stop me—these guys are tough.”

The young patrol captain was clearly not used to Amber’s way of speaking. “…”

After the patrol left, Anton finally dared to speak, a mix of surprise and respect in his voice: “Boss, you’ve really made it to the upper class, huh? Even the lord’s soldiers salute you!”

“Obviously. Didn’t I say I’m the lord’s personal guard now?” Amber shot a glance at the bald man. “And if I didn’t have that status, how do you think I got you all those travel permits signed by Viscount Andrew Leslie?”

Anton chuckled, “The viscount would probably be glad to see people like us off his land as soon as possible.”

“That’s true… Enough talk. Let’s go—I’ll show you all what the world looks like!”

(End of chapter)