Chapter 447: The Horizon

“Honorable citizens of Cecil, good afternoon. I am your lord.”

The deep, commanding voice of the Duke of Cecil echoed across the square, and an expectant hush fell over the crowd.

Everyone stood with mouths agape and eyes wide, staring in stunned bewilderment at the enormous holographic projection hovering in the center of the square—as if witnessing a miracle descending from the heavens.

Even the soldiers stationed by the communication device in the square showed a flicker of excitement on their faces. Though the projection’s angle only allowed them to see a jumble of flickering lights and partial images, they knew perfectly well that what they were seeing was happening right now. Their lord was standing in Cecil City at this very moment, yet his figure and voice were being transmitted here, to them.

The governor, Daedalus, lifted his head slightly, a trace of emotion in his voice as he murmured to himself, “Truly… incredible…”

After a brief pause, the voice continued, resonating through the square:

“…Citizens, it is my honor and pride to announce that Rockhold Fortress has been captured by the brave and loyal Cecil Combat Legion. The rebel noble remnants hiding within the fortress have all been apprehended…

“…This land is safe—at least for now.

“Citizens, this glory belongs to every Cecil resident—not only those by the Whitewater River, but also to all of you gathered before this holographic projection, to those who cannot be here but continue to work diligently at their posts, to every person living in the southern territories. Whether you are farmer, mercenary, merchant, knight, official, serf, or even slave, no matter where you came from, you now share in this honor. You are the foundation and pillars of the Duchy of Cecil. Your hard work and wisdom will make this land stronger and greater…

“But safety is not eternal. Enemies still lurk, coveting our kingdom. The rebellious Eastern Territories, the Second Royal House hollowed out by the Protector Duke, the Typhon beyond our borders, cultists hiding in the shadows, even foes within our own duchy… Our enemies are always present.

“Let us remain vigilant, ready to face these threats at any moment. Let us stay strong, never fearing these challenges…

“And before those challenges come, before peace is broken, citizens, let us build actively and enjoy this great era—I promise you, my commitments remain: settlers will receive land; hardworking serfs will gain freedom and property; factory workers will be fairly compensated; those who bear children, study diligently, enlist in the army, or excel in farming and commerce will all be rewarded.

“And I will be proud of you.”

The image and voice faded, but the silence in the square lingered for several long moments. Then, from somewhere in the crowd, a cheer broke out—followed quickly by a second, then a third.

Soon, the entire square erupted in cheers.

In truth, more than half the people were simply swept up in the moment, not fully grasping what had just happened or the meaning behind every word their lord had spoken. They only knew this was a stirring moment, and the contagious atmosphere swept them into a kind of blind enthusiasm. But what did it matter?

For common folk with almost no entertainment and little access to news in their lives, today they had witnessed an incredible magical marvel: their lord appearing in a giant projection, hearing his voice, learning of a frontline victory, and feeling personally encouraged—it was certainly cause for celebration!

So they cheered, whether they understood or not, and in that cheering, a faint sense of pride began to take root. Though these people, once under Count Hosman’s domain, had never encountered the full ideas of “the glory of labor” or “building a new era,” the lord had said he was proud of them… and that alone was an honor.

At the center of the square, in the area where the officials stood, a young female administrator was moved by the overwhelming cheers and the collective passion erupting from the crowd. She murmured to herself, “So this is what the lord meant by… the power of the people?”

“No, this is just a blind crowd,” said Daedalus, the governor of Hosman City, shaking his head. “In the words of Tutor Hetty, these are ‘people easily stirred by atmosphere and words, without reflection.’ They are far from the truly awakened citizens who labor passionately out of their own awareness—that is the real ‘Cecil citizen.’”

“Blindly stirred…” The young administrator looked surprised but, having been one of Hetty’s apprentices, she soon nodded thoughtfully. “I see… we’re still in the early stages here.”

“That’s alright. Even a temporarily roused crowd is better than the stagnant, lifeless state they were in before,” Daedalus said softly. “The lord once said, ‘Inefficient labor is better than no labor.’ Places like Hosman are different from the original Cecil frontier. The people here have less pressure and their own way of life. Sometimes, to ignite their enthusiasm for building, you need this kind of ‘incentive.’ It doesn’t have to last long—just long enough.”

Their conversation ended as the cheers gradually subsided. Daedalus stepped forward, his voice amplified by magic, ringing out across the square:

“Citizens of Hosman, what you just witnessed was a transmission from the large-scale magical network communicator. Over the next month, we will install similar public broadcast devices in three other locations throughout the city…

“In addition, ‘civilian communication points’ will soon open for the general public. Soldiers will provide explanations and announcements about how to use the magical network communicator, and relevant information will also be posted on bulletin boards and newspapers.

“Let us thank every person who has worked diligently on the magical network communication project, and honor its inventors and builders.”

…

Inside the temporary “broadcast hall” set up at the Cecil City Arcane Research Institute.

The first broadcast of the magical network communication era had ended. To be honest, when it was first conceived, Gawain never imagined that his own speech would be the inaugural broadcast.

Frankly, what he said wasn’t exactly what he most wanted to say.

But he understood clearly that what he spoke was the most effective message for this time.

Propaganda must consider its audience—their worldview, their capacity for understanding, and their way of thinking. This semi-test, semi-official broadcast covered the western Hosman region, the northern Rockhold-Carol-Kant line, and extended eastward to the Grant territory. Though it didn’t yet cover the entire southern lands, it was a sizable area. Within this audience, ninety percent were newly minted Cecil residents.

Unlike the people of Cecil City, these “new citizens” had no modern general education, no exposure to arcane industrial society, and many barely recognized written characters. What they understood was still the old order under noble rule. If told anything too advanced or progressive, they wouldn’t just fail to understand—they might begin to doubt their new lord.

So it was better to inspire and stir them up, at least to give these “new citizens” some motivation to build a new life.

Gawain stepped down from the platform where he had spoken. Rebecca, who was monitoring a cluster of flickering rune plates nearby, immediately approached him.

“Ancestor! You were absolutely magnificent just now!”

Gawain ruffled Rebecca’s hair casually. “How’s the signal quality everywhere?”

“Feedback’s in. Only near Rockhold Fortress is the signal poor. We suspect the temporary relay towers set up during the war aren’t effective, or perhaps the magical turbulence left by the fortress’s collapsed great magic shield is still disrupting the local mana field. I’ve already notified the Wald Knights inside the fortress to send a team of arcane technicians to collect mana field data nearby. I’ll study it when they return. Everywhere else, the signal is excellent.”

“Good.” Gawain nodded with satisfaction, then looked toward Kamail floating nearby. “Kamail, thank you for your hard work this time.”

Thanks to this ancient archmage working overtime to adjust the entire magical network and leading a team of technicians to hastily build a rudimentary “broadcast hall” at the Arcane Research Institute, Gawain and Rebecca were able to conduct this time-sensitive broadcast immediately upon returning to their domain.

“It’s my duty,” Kamail bowed slightly, then gazed at the magical communication terminal in the hall’s center, his voice tinged with emotion. “Broadcasting signals… I never thought I’d see this again in my lifetime.”

“Not only will you see it, but soon you’ll see it everywhere,” Gawain smiled. He wasn’t content to let this useful magical network communication system be just a “lord’s speech amplifier.” Now that the feasibility of “territory-wide broadcasting” had been proven, he intended to use it to bring many good things he’d known from his previous life.

Though the current communication devices were still primitive, and traditional audiovisual recording spells hadn’t yet been mass-produced by arcane industry, perhaps he could already consider building a “broadcast magic-television network” in parts of the southern lands…

Of course, this idea might be premature. After all, the magical network communication bureau in the administration office had only just been established. The new administrators were still studying this novel technology’s characteristics and had no spare manpower or energy for the next steps. But since the material technology was in place, Gawain believed that achieving regular, practical information broadcasting within the domain was only a matter of time.

While Gawain, Rebecca, and Kamail eagerly studied the communication devices at the Arcane Research Institute, in the city’s eastern Mechanical Research Institute, Nicholas—nicknamed “Egg”—finally completed a new creation.

A smooth, rune-engraved cylinder floated before him.

“Finally… done…” The iron-sphere being emitted a happy hum. “This new alloy material wasn’t so hard to handle after all…”

(End of chapter)