Chapter 558: Civilian Applications

Amid the cheers and gasps of over ten thousand citizens gathered on both riverbanks, the newly forged steel magecraft warship sounded its whistle. It slowly glided across the river, and after passing through the northern lock, it shifted into full power mode.

Voices crackled over the bridge’s comms: “Magic network base layer stable!” “Power spine functioning normally!” “Engine room operational!” “Deploying mana wing panels—engine output rising!” “Attitude stable, power group—advance three!”

On either side of the warship, long, slender metal plates and mechanical assemblies unfolded into wing-like structures. A shimmering magical shield rose first, enveloping every potential weak point on the ship. The three pairs of “wings” were covered in dense runes and magical conduits, their glow intertwining with the shield’s faint radiance. These winged structures were among the most critical components on the magecraft warship—and would be on future super-large magecraft vessels. They supplied additional mana to the power spine and vented excess energy safely outside the magecraft systems. Only by fully extending these wings could the warship operate at full power.

With the roar of its three mana engines, the ship gradually picked up speed, heading toward Tansang Town.

On the riverbank, someone shouted first, then others joined, until the calls swelled into a chorus:

“Safe travels!” “Safe travels!” “Long live Cecil!”

Gawain Orlando stood atop the southern high ground, personally pressing the record button on the mana terminal. Then he lowered his head and jotted down his thoughts in his notebook:

“…This steel-built floating fortress lifts the spirits of all who see it. People from all walks of life stand along the riverbank, cheering excitedly, blessing this voyage. The lord once said we must build a sense of pride for the Cecilians. Now, that pride is beginning to take shape—a powerful industrial creation, forged by ‘us,’ something every citizen can be proud of…”

A still-chilly spring breeze blew off the river, prompting the old scholar from the capital to tighten his cloak. He lifted his gaze toward the misty northern shore, his eyes seeming to look beyond the river, beyond the plains, beyond the southern mountains, all the way to the northern reaches of the Holy Spirit Plain, to his hometown of Saint Suniel…

When, he wondered, would a ship like this sail the broad waterways of the Holy Spirit Plain?

A student nearby noticed the scholar’s absent-mindedness and asked, “Teacher? Are you alright?”

“Nothing,” he replied with a faint smile. “Old age makes the mind wander.”

…

The Pioneer would continue its voyage. Over the next several hours, its engine groups and control systems would undergo real-world testing until it reached Tansang Town—though it should really be called Tansang New City by now—where it would dock temporarily.

At that point, technicians would inspect the engines and power spine. Gawain and the others would disembark at Tansang port and return to Cecil City by magecraft carriage. Some sailors stationed at Tansang New City would rotate aboard the ship. Afterward, the Pioneer would set sail again to begin its nearly two-week patrol.

—At this ship’s speed, the patrol wouldn’t actually take that long, but to showcase its capabilities, it wouldn’t run at full throttle, and would need to stop multiple times for mechanical checks and adjustments.

Gawain left the forward platform of the bridge and called for Knight Byron in the rear rest area.

“How do you like the ship?” he asked with a smile.

“Awesome. Absolutely awesome,” Byron grinned broadly. “I’ve never seen anything this powerful in my life. The Aurora and Morning Star are nothing compared to this.”

“Honestly, I was worried at first,” Gawain admitted, “worried that you, a knight used to fighting on land, wouldn’t be happy commanding a naval fleet. Most traditional nobles would see it as a demotion—after all, no one’s ever taken naval combat seriously.”

Byron shrugged. “Let them say that to the six naval cannons. I don’t believe anyone who’s seen a hundred-meter-long, all-steel floating fortress with six heavy guns and double-layer shields would still insist it’s useless. If there is, I’ll personally serve them drinks, wash their clothes, and then load them into the railgun and fire them off.”

Clearly, Byron’s mercenary background meant he rarely pondered the “honor” of fighting at sea. What mattered to him was simple: this ship could fight, and fight hard—that was enough.

But Gawain couldn’t think so simply. He looked up at the control platforms nearby and the “mechanical sergeants” bustling between them. The faint mechanical hum from the lower decks filled his ears, but his mind was on the ship’s potential for derivative value.

The Pioneer was just a beginning—a technological amalgam built by pushing the limits of Cecil’s cutting-edge magecraft and sea monster technologies. Its value wasn’t just in creating a powerful warship, but in every technological breakthrough gained during its construction.

For the Duchy of Cecil, the Pioneer’s specifications were “off the charts.”

Though designed as an inland river warship, its stats far exceeded what such a vessel typically required, and surpassed current military needs—from firepower to armor to propulsion. In essence, the Pioneer was a no-expense-spared experiment, stacking every advanced technology possible while still maintaining river navigation capability. If mass-produced, this would be considered wasteful.

But that was the point of an “experimental ship.” Building the Pioneer was like testing every feasible technology at once. After appropriate downgrades or modifications, these technologies could be applied elsewhere—especially in civilian sectors.

According to plan, once the ship was commissioned, the accumulated technologies would immediately enter application and expansion phases.

First, the mature propulsion tech would be retrofitted onto the Aurora and Morning Star—those half-finished magecraft warships wouldn’t be scrapped just because a new flagship was launched. Following the principle of making full use of resources, Gawain decided to complete their upgrades with new engines and armor, then integrate them into the Cecil fleet.

Next, all civilian vessels under Cecil’s shipyards and maritime management would undergo upgrades. Old cargo ships would be retrofitted where possible; otherwise, gradually retired and rebuilt. The propulsion and control technologies from the warship, once scaled down, could be used to build high-capacity, high-speed civilian freighters, greatly boosting logistics within the southern territories and easing transport bottlenecks during the grand construction period.

Meanwhile, the Pioneer’s highly integrated power spine, mana wing panels, and onboard shield tech could be adapted for land fortifications, large vehicles, engineering facilities, and other classes of warships.

He called Heddy over and shared these plans. Hearing that transport issues might soon ease, the long-worried Heddy visibly relaxed. “That’s wonderful… If the propulsion tech from the Pioneer can be applied to civilian ships, at least in river-covered regions, transport problems will be mostly solved.”

But then she frowned. “Though that means the new mechanical ships will quickly monopolize river transport. Traditional shipowners will probably go bankrupt… Most of them can’t afford a magecraft mechanical ship.”

Gawain looked at Heddy with mild surprise.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, confused. “Is there something on my face?”

The chief steward of Cecil was puzzled. She clearly remembered not wearing any smoky makeup today… Could it be the makeup she’d applied yesterday to fake a half-day off that she forgot to remove?

Gawain, however, didn’t know what was running through his granddaughter’s mind. Instead, he recalled how, at the start, Heddy had been bewildered upon hearing about the “labor reward” system and “personnel management” concepts.

Back then, she had no real understanding of commoner life. Despite her honest and compassionate ideals, she was essentially a noblewoman who had never left the castle or manor, imagining the hardships of the common folk from afar. She didn’t even know why commoners only ate two meals a day or why they scavenged leftover scraps from the castle.

Today, she was already thinking about what to do if shipowners went bankrupt—largely because of her work in the administration, but it still showed how much her mindset had changed.

“We won’t just stand by and watch shipowners go bankrupt,” Gawain said with a smile. “If we’re going to promote the warship’s technology for civilian use, it has to truly reach the people and serve them, not drive them into ruin. I have three preliminary plans…”

He paused briefly, then laid them out one by one:

“First, open channels for selling and leasing mechanical ships. When the time is right, we can even help capable private investors establish small shipyards to quickly bring down the cost of magecraft mechanical ships to affordable levels, so that large shipowners and wealthy merchants can buy or lease vessels—just like with magecraft car commercialization.

“Second, for some shipowners, the administration will subsidize retrofitting old cargo ships or allow them to trade in old ships for new ones. For those truly lacking funds, interest-free loans will be available to buy new ships. Don’t worry about these costs—once the new ships are running on the rivers, their economic benefits will far outweigh the subsidies.

“Finally, smaller shipowners can form transport companies, pool funds to buy ships, or switch jobs to dockside cargo handling, all with subsidies. New cities are being built everywhere, so there will always be job openings. As long as we manage placements well, there will be opportunities.”

“As for overseeing the implementation of these plans… that’s up to you.”

Watching Heddy take notes with a serious expression, Gawain exhaled quietly.

The plans were sound, but many problems would inevitably arise during execution. Industrialization was a blessing, but the shocks of transitioning from agriculture to industry were unavoidable—just as alchemical potions had bankrupted many alchemists, and last year’s magecraft cars had terrified the carriage guilds. Now, mechanical ships would surely disrupt the livelihoods of those relying on traditional river cargo vessels.

In the past, over ninety percent of the southern lands were controlled by other lords. Gawain could ignore or even welcome the bankruptcy of alchemists and apothecaries, as it weakened rival territories. But now, the entire southern region was under the Cecil family’s rule, and all were Cecil citizens. That meant more responsibilities and considerations.

He could only rely on his knowledge and experience to smooth the transition as much as possible.

While Gawain and Heddy pondered the civilian applications of this new technology, another figure on the bridge was lost deep in thought.

Beside the main control seat, Rebecca was staring absentmindedly at the flickering runes and the silvery levers on the platform. Next to her, Tyr was carefully curling herself up on the floor. The sea witch lady, while diligently tucking the tip of her tail into the “snake ball” she’d woven, couldn’t help but glance up at Rebecca and ask, “Hey, what are you thinking about?”

Rebecca snapped out of her reverie and looked over at Tyr, who was playing with her tail. A frustrated expression crossed her face. “You’ve already built your magic-powered ship, and my magic energy train still blows up twice a day…”

Ever since they started using the Origin Lab, no longer worrying about costs or explosion risks, the number of Rebecca’s experimental mishaps had skyrocketed.

Tyr tilted her head and said casually, “What’s there to be upset about? I’ve had a few hundred people working on this ship since last year. Of course it’s going to be ahead of your progress.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense…” Rebecca still looked downcast. “But if we don’t fix the train soon, the mines over at White Sand Hills won’t be able to ship anything back…”

Tyr thought for a moment, then slowly curled back into her tail ball. “Well, I can’t really help with that. We sea witches aren’t good at building land vehicles, and the engine design for the magic warship definitely won’t work for your train.”

Rebecca gave a helpless glance at Tyr, now completely transformed into a snake ball. The young Marchioness of the Cecil family had never felt so defeated…

(End of chapter)