Chapter 789: Changes

Sunlight streamed into the spacious study, casting a soft glow over the oak desk and the arcane network terminal beside it. A subtle, invigorating incense drifted through the air, tickling Byron’s nose and making the mercenary-turned-imperial general twitch, nearly sneezing in an unseemly manner.

“…The envoy from the Duchy of Holy Dragon will arrive at the northern border soon,” Gawain said, seated behind the desk as he casually placed a document on the table. “You’ll be going to receive them.”

Byron scratched his head, but halfway through, he caught himself. This was the “Imperial Era” now, and as a general standing before the emperor, such casualness might be inappropriate. He quickly lowered his hand. “Understood—but I’m no diplomat.”

Gawain smiled, glancing at the “mercenary general.” “Haven’t you always been good with words? You even convinced Philip.”

“Your Majesty, that’s different. When I talk to Philip, it’s not so much about eloquence as it is about a shared sense of justice and the knightly code…” Byron launched into his usual ramble, but noticing Gawain’s half-smile, he cautiously added, “Of course, there’s a bit of shamelessness involved too…”

Some things don’t change just because you put on an imperial general’s uniform—not that quickly, at least.

But Gawain didn’t mind. In fact, he rather appreciated the quirks and habits of Byron and the other “founding ministers” who had stood by him since the beginning.

He couldn’t say for sure if it was the lingering influence of his own memories as Gawain Cecil from seven centuries ago, or if it was because he saw echoes of those founding veterans of Ansu in Byron. But one thing was certain: dealing with Byron, Amber, and Leight—those who had followed him for years—was far more comfortable and relaxed than dealing with the rigid “professionals” who had come from the old capital.

So he leaned back in his chair, smiling. “Let me say something I probably shouldn’t say out loud—among the many skills diplomacy requires, shamelessness is actually a major component. It’s as important as eloquence.

“Of course, you don’t need to worry about that. You’re not the one handling the negotiations. Your role is simply to receive the envoys at the border as an imperial general, to show our sincerity and serve as an equal-status ‘face.’ The real responsibility for escorting and negotiating with the envoys falls to Earl Cromwell Whiteshan.”

“Cromwell Whiteshan?” Byron thought for a moment, the name vaguely familiar. “Oh, the dwarf-blooded knight lord—I met him in Saint Suniel.”

“Though he’s a noble from the old capital, he’s quite familiar with northern affairs,” Gawain nodded. “You’ll meet him at the northern border to receive the Duchy of Holy Dragon’s envoys. After that, you can leave things to him. As for you, you’ll be staying in the north for a while. There’s a new mission for you.”

“So… receiving the envoys is just a side task,” Byron nodded knowingly, then his curiosity got the better of him. “What’s my real mission?”

“Building the North Harbor and its supporting naval base,” Gawain stood and walked over to the large map hanging on the wall, his gaze settling on the empire’s northern reaches. “Preparing for the establishment of the Imperial Navy and the reopening of the northern circumnavigation route.”

“North Harbor…” Byron’s eyes followed Gawain’s gaze on the map, focusing beyond the northern mountains, on the coastline between the Violet Kingdom and the Duchy of Holy Dragon. “The Duchy’s maritime peninsula brings a warm current to the northern continent, and beyond the northern mountains lies a natural ice-free port… It really is the ideal starting point to reopen the northern circumnavigation route.”

Gawain looked at Byron with mild surprise and a faint smile. “Looks like you’ve noticed this for some time.”

“Your Majesty, I’m not just at home playing with my daughter during leave,” Byron smiled and spread his hands. “You’ve long said we should set our sights on the seas. The southern borders were once surrounded by land, with no access to the ocean. But now that the north is under our control, that precious coastline has caught my attention for a while.”

Gawain smiled warmly.

Clearly, he and Byron had reached an unspoken understanding: even back in the southern days, they had both been eyeing the northern coastline with envy…

“Looks like putting you in charge of the fleet was the right choice,” Gawain said, still smiling. “Once North Harbor is built, we’ll have the chance to connect the Duchy of Holy Dragon’s maritime peninsula, the empire’s northern territories, the Ogure tribes, and the dwarf kingdom’s western coast by sea. If the Ogure tribes cooperate, we could even establish a sheltered port at the southern cliffs’ rift, extending the route to the borders of the Highland Kingdom. This would encompass the northern, western, and parts of the southern continent—a true ‘circumnavigation route.’

“With the performance of our magi-mechanical ships, this is entirely feasible.

“Our fleet will become a real ‘naval fleet,’ no longer confined to small skirmishes on inland rivers… You’ve led the fleet for a long time; you must have felt it too. These mechanical ships can perform on a much larger stage.”

“I’ve felt it for a while. Inland rivers are just too narrow for our mechanical ships,” Byron replied immediately, then frowned slightly. “But as far as I know, the ocean is far more complex than rivers. You can’t just take a river warship and call it a navy ship at sea. Miss Tyr also warned me that the ships she’s helped design so far are only suitable for relatively calm inland waters. To challenge the ocean, they’ll need significant modifications.”

“Of course. This is a long-term project. Humanity has been away from the sea for too long. We need time to gather oceanic data and adjust our ship designs. Fortunately, Tyr is willing to continue advising us, and the Wilde family in the north has observed the ocean to some extent over the past centuries. Their records will be invaluable.

“Also, building North Harbor isn’t our only ‘maritime plan.’ After establishing diplomatic relations with the Duchy of Holy Dragon, we’ll redevelop the Dragoncall Bay outlet on the eastern border. That mission will also be yours.”

Gawain spoke steadily, his gaze settling on Byron with a hint of expectation.

“By then, you’ll be the true and rightful ‘Commander of the Imperial Navy.’”

“Ah, that sounds way more impressive than ‘Admiral of the Fleet,’” Byron’s lips curved into a smile. “I’m really looking forward to that day.”

…

The sun climbed higher, its generous rays pouring down from the sky. The air was still cold, but the warmth in the sunlight hinted that the season of warmth was approaching. Standing in the garden square before Cecil Palace, Byron tilted his head back and squinted slightly.

“Commander of the Imperial Navy, huh…” The mercenary knight smiled faintly, muttering to himself, “That does sound pretty cool.”

He shook his head lightly and began walking toward the magi-car waiting at the edge of the square.

The holiday was over. Time to go back and tell Pea.

Suddenly, a clear, cheerful ringing came from nearby, interrupting his thoughts.

Curious, Byron looked toward the sound and saw Rebecca, dressed in a winter hunting outfit suited for movement, wobbling toward him on a strange two-wheeled “machine.”

This odd contraption was unlike any magi-mechanical device he’d seen before. It clearly didn’t use any magical mechanism for power but was assembled purely from iron wheels, a frame, chains, and driven by human-powered pedals. The crisp, pleasant bell chimes came from a small device hanging near the handlebars.

Rebecca was enthusiastically fiddling with the little bell, making it ring merrily, her face full of excitement. But Byron could tell the princess was struggling—she was barely controlling the two-wheeler, swaying wildly. Though it seemed she was aiming for the open road nearby, she was veering off course, heading straight toward Byron.

“Ah, Byron!” Rebecca spotted him and shouted loudly, “Don’t move! Don’t move!”

Byron thought for a moment and stood still. Then, with a resigned sigh, he watched as Rebecca, still about ten meters away, suddenly toppled off the two-wheeler with a loud clang, sprawling awkwardly on the ground.

Yet she was still beaming brightly.

A guard quickly rushed over, flustered, helping the princess to her feet. Byron stepped forward, a fond smile on his face as he looked at the young woman he’d practically watched grow up. “I thought when you told me not to move, you were planning to aim and crash into me—I even activated my protective aura.”

“I told you not to move so I could figure out how to dodge, but things didn’t quite go as planned… Still, I didn’t hit you in the end, so that’s good, right?” Rebecca rubbed her head, chattering away. Then she glanced at the two-wheeler just lifted by the attendant, her expression softening with concern. “Oh no, don’t break it… We only got a few of these.”

Byron finally had a chance to examine the strange machine. Its style was very different from the other mechanical creations in Cecil City, sparking his curiosity. “Your Highness, is this another one of your inventions?”

He thought to himself: whenever something strange and new appeared in Cecil City, and it happened to be near Rebecca, it was usually her or her research team behind it. In fact, half of all new inventions lately were hers.

Though more scholars were now involved in technological development as research facilities improved, reducing Rebecca’s share of new creations, Byron still instinctively associated new gadgets with her.

But Rebecca shook her head. “No, this was brought over recently by merchants importing textiles from Typhon. It’s a gift from the Typhon people. They call it a ‘two-wheeler.’”

“Typhon?” Byron raised his eyebrows in surprise, glancing again at the odd vehicle. “No wonder it looks a bit unusual. But it’s quite delicate. The Typhon people are strange—this thing only has two wheels. It must be hard to control.”

“You’re wrong about that. Once you learn, it’s really convenient,” Rebecca said, hands on hips. “When I saw someone demonstrate it, it looked easy, fast, and handy. I only fell because I’m not used to it yet.”

Listening to Rebecca’s excited chatter, Byron gazed at the “two-wheeled carriage” from Typhon before him, a thoughtful expression creeping onto his face.

The Typhons had been latecomers to magical technology. In this field—one that practically defined the new era—they lagged far behind Cecil. Yet in other areas, they had long been ahead. A striking example was the “mechanical clock.” Once the exclusive domain of nobles and the church, these timekeeping machines had only begun to spread across the country in the past couple of years, driven by the punctuality demands of factories and railways. And it was Typhon craftsmen who had first invented them some fifty years ago.

Like many technologies of the old age, their initial purpose was religious: to help churches mark the time for mass, summoning worshippers with the tolling of mechanical bells. Later, they found their way into noble castles and estates, but they remained largely irrelevant to the daily lives of common folk.

The world’s finest clockmakers were in Aldern, as were the masters of crystal glasswork.

Of course, the key techniques for the latter had somehow—through some unspoken channels—leaked to Cecil, where “floor-to-ceiling windows” were becoming increasingly popular in the southern regions, a clear sign of that influence.

Now, the clever minds of Typhon had invented this “two-wheeled carriage.” Compared to the early mechanical clocks or crystal glass, it had one glaring difference:

It wasn’t elegant. It wasn’t luxurious.

From the start, it seemed designed for the common people…

Byron frowned. Unlike Gawain or Hetty, he wasn’t skilled at reading the shifting tides of intelligence. Yet instinctively, he found himself pondering, sensing that—

The way Typhon’s knowledge bearers thought was beginning to change.

(End of chapter)