Chapter 572: The Road

The last glow of the sunset slipped behind the distant mountains, and as twilight deepened, the magical crystal street lamps flickered on one by one, controlled by a timing device. Before the stars twinkled in the night sky, the “stars” on the ground—the city lights—had already brightened, signaling the true beginning of life in Cecil City.

Night was not the end of the day; it was simply the start of a new chapter.

The taverns along the streets blazed with light. Workers fresh off their shifts gathered inside to rest, relax, and fill their stomachs. The magical network broadcast system in the town square played the evening news, drawing curious onlookers who lingered with interest. Restaurants and shops that stayed open late lit up their signs, and enthusiastic owners and clerks beckoned passersby. Waves of people streamed toward the east and south sides of the city—where the factories and night schools were located.

Sonia Frostleaf stood on the street corner, marveling at the city’s bustling vibrancy. She gazed at the sea of lights and couldn’t help but say, “This place… is far livelier than the capital of Ansu.”

“Cecil is the most prosperous city in the southern territories, and probably the busiest in all of Ansu,” Solderin said proudly beside her. He had been temporarily assigned as the guide for the visitors, as no one knew the Silver Elves’ tastes better than he did. “It may not have the ancient architecture of Saint Suniel, but everyone here lives better.”

“I can see that,” Sonia nodded softly. “This place reminds me of the old capital of Gondor… the same dazzling lights, the same advanced prosperity. But there’s a fundamental difference. Gondor had only one capital; here, there’s more than one thriving city. Looks like I won’t be able to take you home after all—this is definitely a place worth staying.”

Silver Elves loved to travel. Almost every young elf had at least a century of wandering under their belt. In their saying, “a place worth staying” was the highest compliment one could give to a foreign land.

“This city is developing fast, and it will only grow faster. Even the other, more isolated and backward cities in Ansu have been steadily progressing over the past few centuries. But the Silver Empire… the Silver Empire hasn’t changed much in ten thousand years,” Solderin said. “For me, that’s suffocating.”

“The Queen has been pushing for new city construction,” Sonia replied.

“I don’t mean new cities, Mother. You know what I mean,” Solderin interrupted. “How’s our homeland these days?”

“If you mean peace, the empire has been peaceful. But if you mean the ‘heritage’… the heritage is fading,” Sonia sighed softly. “Fifty years ago, all technological research hit a bottleneck, stuck at the point of the Great Sundering of the Original Elves. Records are incomplete, data doesn’t match, the entire field is a black box… Scholars still hold hope, but some say we’re already mired in a quagmire.”

“The bottleneck of the Original Elves…” Solderin repeated quietly, the phrase heavy with meaning for Silver Elves.

Legend had it that all elves—Gray, Sea, Dark, and Silver—originated from a single ancient race known as the Original Elves, who once possessed an incredibly advanced civilization. They even built floating palaces that hovered permanently at the edge of the atmosphere. But a sudden catastrophe shattered that mighty civilization.

The fleeing Original Elves escaped on arks that sailed the seas, leaving the old continent behind. Nearing the new continent—Lorraine—they encountered a tower shrouded in eternal night. Recklessly entering it, they were cursed by an unfathomable power to fracture and fall apart. The noble Original Elves split into flawed subraces: Gray, Dark, Sea, and Silver Elves, who gradually diverged. Their cultural and technological heritage was fragmented and scattered in their fractured memories, never to be fully restored.

Most elves knew this legend, and most scholars believed it was at least partly true.

“Isn’t it strange? Our technology may have been interrupted, but even if we had to start from scratch, we shouldn’t have stagnated for so long,” Solderin said. “Could it be that our subraces actually regressed during the mutation, so much so that our minds can no longer comprehend the Original Elves’ technology? That can’t be right.”

Sonia shook her head. “No one knows. Maybe the Queen and the High Academy know something, but even they are powerless. And matters like this aren’t something a ranger like you or a messenger like me can fully grasp.”

Solderin fell silent for a moment, then slowly lifted his gaze toward the city center.

“Mother, do you think human wisdom could help?”

Sonia clearly didn’t catch his meaning. “You mean the city’s technology? They are more advanced than other places, but humans today are obviously behind the Silver Empire…”

“Maybe. Overall, human nations haven’t yet regained the glory of Gondor’s era. But you know, right here in Cecil City, humans have developed a new technique called ‘Runic Logic’ that allows them to replicate elven spells in mechanical devices…”

Sonia’s eyes widened. “You’re serious?”

Solderin stared toward the lord’s manor in the distance. “I just have a feeling this is where hope lies.”

…

Gawain withdrew his gaze from the window and returned to his desk. He signed his name on the documents and handed them to Hetty.

“I approve the repulsion train improvement plan. You’re right—cost is a major concern. We can’t just chase the most advanced designs blindly.”

“Thank you for understanding,” Hetty bowed her head, then added, “Ancestor, the commendation for merchant Carol Cod has been delivered, including orders for his knighthood. But… are you sure you want to knight a common merchant?”

Gawain looked up at her. “Hetty, do you still care so much about ‘birth’?”

“No, it’s not about birth,” Hetty shook her head. “It’s about the title of ‘knight.’ Traditionally, knighthood is earned through military merit. It symbolizes courage and loyalty. Though it’s the lowest noble rank, it carries special honor. The merchant profession has never been associated with honor.”

“Cod is more than a merchant, Hetty,” Gawain said steadily, meeting her eyes. “He’s a pioneer.”

“A pioneer?!” Hetty repeated, stunned. She hadn’t expected such a word from the Ancestor—the last person she’d heard use it was the nameless wild mage who invented the magical network…

“To boldly take the first step into untamed lands, risking everything to benefit generations—that’s pioneering. It’s not limited to land or technology,” Gawain explained. “I know Cod is a merchant, motivated by profit, but I can’t deny the value of what he’s done. He’s pushed magical technology further into civilian use, in ways deeper and more practical than I imagined—an advantage of his profession and experience. In that sense, he’s already worthy of being called a pioneer. And his courage to build the first new-style factory and try new things—that’s true knightly spirit.”

He paused briefly, then continued, “More importantly, we must encourage all efforts that promote magical technology. Right now, Cod is the best example to set.”

“I understand,” Hetty bowed her head. “I’ll make sure to seize this publicity opportunity.”

Gawain nodded and asked, “How’s progress at Kamail’s place?”

“The research institute has copied all the elven technical documents and handed them to the Runic Research Institute for analysis and translation. The work has just begun. Per your orders, they’re prioritizing the ‘pressure relief mechanism’ and its magical energy purification.”

Gawain nodded slightly, a faint sigh escaping him.

Elven and human magic systems were fundamentally different. Due to differences in neural structures, humans and elves could barely understand each other’s spell models. Even the rare half-blood descendants who inherited traits from both races could only cast a handful of “cross-species spells.” In the old era of “supernatural power as personal essence,” this barrier troubled scholars of both races for centuries. Only when the concept of mathematics was introduced into magical research—allowing technicians to study magic through pure calculation and logic rather than personal intuition and talent—was this obstacle finally overcome.

In the realm of mathematics, two distinct magical systems found a common language. No matter how a spell model appeared in the minds of the two races, or what “supernatural intuition” it triggered, it was unified within the framework of runic logic.

Elves possessed technology beyond that of current human nations—though the Silver Empire was in decline, its technological heights still surpassed many human realms. Those vast lost technologies were undoubtedly a treasure trove for humanity.

Gawain lowered his head and resumed reviewing the documents awaiting his approval.

Once the northern lords and royal family had organized resources and balanced power, he would have to leave this land for a time. Though he could still command his territories remotely via relay towers along the magical network, remote control had its limits. Before departing, he needed to arrange everything as best as possible.

…

Saint Suniel City, Silver Fortress.

The glow of magical crystal lamps illuminated the ancient royal castle. On the second floor, the study was brightly lit.

Priest Morn sat in a large, comfortable velvet armchair, tilting his head back to gaze at the magical lamps embedded in the opposite wall. Under exquisite brass fixtures, hexagonal rune plates were neatly arranged like a new kind of wallpaper, stretching down to the floor and disappearing beneath the floorboards.

Victoria Wilde sat across from the crown prince. She noticed his distraction but didn’t mind. “The coronation has been canceled, Your Highness. Please understand—we can’t provoke the Eastern Territories. But don’t worry, it’s only postponed. You will ascend the throne eventually.”

“Postponed is fine. I don’t care,” Priest said, pulling his gaze from the magical network units to look at the duchess. “I heard the thermal ray gun has been successfully replicated?”

“It has,” Victoria nodded. “Actually, the technology isn’t complicated. Though we don’t know how the southern rune craftsmen managed to find such a perfect rune arrangement, the core formation is very simple. The royal mages and rune craftsmen quickly copied an identical weapon. But…”

Priest said quietly, “It’s a cost issue, isn’t it?”

“…Cost and production speed,” Victoria agreed. “A few gold coins won’t buy enough magical weapons. Even if we mobilize all the city’s mid- and low-level mages and rune craftsmen, plus the new factories’ capacity, we still can’t produce enough ray guns to arm an entire legion in the short term.”

The duchess couldn’t help but recall the royal mage who had successfully replicated the thermal ray gun. She remembered when he had asked how many weapons she needed, and when she replied “several thousand,” the determined, almost desperate look in his eyes.

“Buying is better than making,” Victoria said slowly. “That was the conclusion reached by the Royal Mage Association after much discussion.”

Wales Morn’s fingers, resting on the arm of his chair, suddenly whitened from gripping tightly, but he soon relaxed.

He murmured, “It’s a rational conclusion, but rational doesn’t always mean wise.”

“In that, I agree with you,” Victoria replied calmly, “but we still haven’t cracked the Southern Kingdom’s technological secrets. That’s the reality we face.”

Wales shook his head. He knew that with the power he held, there was little he could do. After a brief silence, he changed the subject. “When will you leave the capital?”

“After the cargo ship departs,” Victoria said. “I’ll head to the Holy Spirit Plains to take command personally, to prevent any upheaval on the front lines. Duke Bertram will remain here to assist you with state affairs.”

During times of political turmoil, at least one regent duke had to remain in Saint Suniel City—to stabilize the situation, and also… to keep the royal family in check.

Wales understood the deeper meaning behind Victoria’s words but responded calmly, “I understand.”

Victoria nodded, then stood up. She didn’t leave immediately, though, instead casting a quiet glance at the middle-aged prince before her.

She couldn’t help but remember when she was very young, the first time she came to Silver Fortress and entered this study. Back then, her father and Francis II had sat where she and Wales sat now. And Francis II, like Wales now, had been silent and reserved.

“Your Highness,” she suddenly said, unable to hold back, “guard this city well—that is your bloodline’s duty.”

“I understand.”

(End of chapter)