Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 833 - 832: Stranger from the South

In the brightly lit R&D workshop, the prototype of the Wings of Steel had once again been disassembled into individual components, spread out across platforms and support frames.

Beneath those enormous metal wings, the snapped and twisted metal structures at the lower edge were especially eye-catching.

With a clatter of metal, Rebecca crawled out from under one of the giant wing structures, oil smeared on her face and a freshly removed part in her hand.

"One of the Magic Capacitors used for load balancing burned out. That should be the main cause of the entire device going out of balance," Rebecca held up the part in her hand and said to the technicians beside her. "All the other mechanical failures and deformed parts happened during the crash."

Maji curiously leaned in, looking at the disk-shaped part in Rebecca’s hand. "And the cause? Why did it suddenly overload?"

"If I’m not guessing wrong... it should have been the acceleration being too fast, causing too much waste energy to build up before it could be vented, and then you just happened to make a maneuver with an excessive amplitude—like a high-angle roll or something—and that directly blew the Magic Capacitor," Rebecca frowned. "We really didn’t account for that... human beings simply can’t pull off that kind of maneuver; their bodies couldn’t take it. We still don’t know enough about dragons..."

Rebecca was still muttering away, but Maji’s expression had already turned awkward. With a trace of guilt, she lowered her head. "It... it was my fault..."

Rebecca immediately shook her head. "No. Having this kind of failure occur mid-flight is itself a design problem—the Magic Capacitor has limited load; we should have added limiting measures from the very beginning. Actually, it’s also good news—at least the problem is in the design. Redesigning and retesting can solve it bit by bit. If it were a hard flaw in material strength, that’d be the real headache."

Maji wasn’t an expert in Magic Guide Technology, but after acting as a test pilot for Rebecca’s research team for so long, she was no longer unfamiliar with those technical terms and concepts. She understood that everything was indeed as the other had said—oversights in the design could be corrected, and that was far easier to overcome than a bottleneck in materials.

Even so, a trace of shame still lingered in her heart, because in the final analysis, this crash had been caused by her.

The feeling of embracing the blue sky was too intoxicating, making the young Dragonborn lose control. She knew she had been too immersed in that sensation, and thus neglected to constantly monitor the operating status of the Wings of Steel—there must have been signs before the Magic Capacitor overloaded. If she hadn’t been indulging in that sense of free soaring at the time, she probably wouldn’t have let the situation deteriorate to such a serious crash.

Though Rebecca usually wasn’t much good at reading people’s hearts, at least this time she could guess what Maji was thinking. She waved her hand vigorously. "Don’t overthink it. A test pilot’s job is precisely to push the prototype and uncover all kinds of limit data. It’s inevitable that equipment will get wrecked in the process. Discovering the problem during trial flights is far better than having the prototype mass-produced and then causing an accident down the line."

At this point, this Steel Bead of the Cecil Clan suddenly seemed to remember something. She rubbed her chin and changed the subject. "Besides, compared to my side, you should think about how you’re going to apologize to Tiel later..."

Maji froze, her face full of confusion. "Miss Tiel?"

"When I went back for dinner yesterday, I saw Tiel wriggling along the corridor, telling everyone she’d been stabbed to death by an iron chin falling from the sky—by my count this should be the second time you’ve hit her. Last time you used the Dragon Cavalry prototype to smash into her..."

Maji: "..."

...

The afterglow of the setting sun shone between the mountains of the northern parts of the Dark Mountain Range, pale golden light pouring over the undulating ridgelines. The magnificent Bitter Winter Castle stood atop ice, snow, and rock, gazing down upon this frozen land of mountains and rivers—this was a landscape entirely different from the south, lacking much of the bustle and warmth, but possessing a bone-deep grandeur and desolation.

On his first visit to this northern city, Byron Kirk stood on a terrace that overlooked most of the city, his vision filled by this majestic scenery from the north. He, who had once been a mercenary, couldn’t help but feel a surge of emotion, wanting to sigh over the Empire’s vastness and splendor—

"...There’s a f*ck-ton of mountains."

After racking his brains and finding that he only had this one sentence, unable to come up with a few more respectable phrases, Byron scratched his chin somewhat awkwardly. He suddenly felt that Sir Philip’s usual advice to read more books might actually have a point—at the very least, when faced with scenery like this, he’d have a few more flowery phrases to describe it...

Just then, a voice suddenly came from behind, cutting off Byron’s musings and greatly adding to his embarrassment. "General Byron, what did you just say?"

Byron stiffly turned his head and saw Duchess Victoria, dressed in a white gown, standing on the terrace at some point, looking over with a suspicious expression. The corner of his mouth twitched; he scratched his face in a very unnatural motion and gave a dry laugh. "Ahaha... just talking to myself."

Victoria Wilder glanced at Byron twice, seemingly unconcerned, and merely nodded slightly. "The banquet hall is ready. As an Imperial General, you should make an appearance."

Byron’s expression instantly grew somewhat stiff, as if a bit helpless, but in the end he said nothing and followed in Victoria Wilder’s wake.

The envoys from the Sacred Dragon Kingdom had yet to arrive; tonight’s banquet was intended as a first contact with the upper echelons of the northern parts of the Dark Mountain Range.

An Imperial General from the southern borders leading a construction army to the north, to build Northport and a series of facilities along the northern coast—this was undoubtedly a major event. The existing aristocratic families of the northern parts of the Dark Mountain Range and the new officials of the Administrative Office naturally wanted to see what kind of man this general from the imperial capital was. As for Byron, this sort of "by-the-book upper-class socializing" was anything but pleasant.

Inside the brightly lit great hall of Bitter Winter Castle, the feast had been set. Precious wines and exquisite dishes covered the long table. In the corner of the hall, a band was playing brisk, upper-class tunes. Aristocratic nobles and officials of the Administrative Office, dressed in all manner of formal attire, were scattered about the hall, chatting about the foreigners from the south and the soon-to-begin Northport project.

With Victoria Wilder leading the way, Byron entered the hall and began dealing with these strangers who nonetheless wielded great influence in the north.

Everyone wore smiles, polite and courteous, just the right degree of gentle warmth, welcoming the "spokesperson of the King’s will" with sincere attitudes.

Byron, in a deep blue Imperial General’s uniform adorned with golden tassels and Ribbon, moved through the hall with Victoria Wilder at his side.

As a Knight who came up from being a mercenary, he wasn’t good at this sort of "high society" life, but as a soldier, he could keep a stony face and maintain a cold persona the whole time without anyone saying he lacked manners.

Likewise, as a Knight who came up from being a mercenary, he was very good at reading the room in all kinds of situations.

He could clearly feel that more than half the people here were watching him, this "outsider," with wariness and caution, and this did not surprise him in the slightest.

After chatting with Merlin-who-knows-which-number Earl, Byron Kirk left the hall on the pretext that the air was stuffy, went out onto the balcony to get some fresh air, and gave his brain a short rest.

Unconcealed footsteps came from the direction of the banquet hall. Byron Kirk turned his head and saw Victoria Wilder walking this way.

He shook the wine glass in his hand as a greeting to this Northern Duke, then turned back again to look at the distant mountains already gradually engulfed in darkness, continuing inwardly to lament just how damn many mountains this place had.

Duchess Victoria’s voice came from beside him: "General Byron, you seem very interested in the scenery of the northern parts of the Dark Mountain Range?"

"The mountains here... are indeed more numerous than in the south," Byron Kirk smiled. "And they’re all tall and magnificent—quite impressive."

"The northern parts of the Dark Mountain Range are mountainous to the point that even flatlands and hills are rare. Coupled with the cold climate, it makes this place far less suitable for survival than the south," Victoria Wilder said calmly. "To outsiders, the endless snow mountains are just a spectacular view. To mountain dwellers, they are a symbol of bitter cold. From the day Anzu was founded, this land has never been particularly wealthy. It’s neither a grain-producing region nor a commercial center—at best it’s a snowy mountain defense line, used to protect the northern gate of the kingdoms. The harsh living environment and the ’great barrier of the North’ stance maintained over hundreds of years have made northerners more fierce and tenacious than people in other regions, but also much harder to deal with."

Byron Kirk didn’t know why this duchess had suddenly brought this up, but he had already unconsciously thought of the people back in the banquet hall. A thoughtful look appeared on his face, and he forgot to respond to what the duchess had said.

Victoria Wilder herself didn’t mind. She simply continued, "General Byron, you’ve been ordered by the King to build Northport. That means not only dealing with the cold winds and frozen earth, but also dealing with the people on this bitterly cold land. Would you like to hear my thoughts?"

"Of course." Byron Kirk reined in his thoughts. "I’m about to start the Northport project very soon. I definitely want to hear your advice."

"Northport is a gateway—not only the Empire’s, but also the gateway of the northern parts of the Dark Mountain Range. For this cold and barren land, such a gateway is enough to bring tremendous change," Duchess Victoria said evenly, her eyes deep, her tone sincere. "If the northern circumcontinental route is successfully opened, a large portion of the trade between the Empire and the Sacred Dragon Kingdom, the tribal country of Augari, the Dwarf Kingdom, and other nations will be conducted through Northport. This will change the northern region’s isolation and poverty. We should be grateful to the King for bringing the Magic Era. New technology and new commerce can bring prosperity to a place as inhospitable as the northern parts of the Dark Mountain Range. Unfortunately, many northerners will not realize this in the early stages—that is something you must think through clearly."

"I understand what you mean," Byron Kirk nodded. "Development of Northport will bring prosperity here, but before they see real silver in their hands, the locals will only feel that a bunch of outsiders are messing around on their land and even pointing fingers at their way of life—indeed, that is a problem."

"Yet the King still chose to send a southerner like you to build Northport, rather than appointing someone from among the local Governors of the north." Victoria Wilder looked at Byron Kirk and spoke slowly.

Byron Kirk listened to her, then, after two seconds of silence, suddenly chuckled. "Northport is not just a civilian port."

"...Some people say you’re a crude fellow who’s never read a book, but now it seems that may not be the case."

Byron Kirk raised an eyebrow. "I haven’t read much, that’s true—but a mercenary’s cunning and eye for things don’t come from books."

"...The King’s decision to send you was indeed well thought out," Victoria Wilder seemed to smile a little, though her tone remained flat. "You are one of the first soldiers forged under the Cecil Order, a typical example of the new-style officer—you strictly obey discipline and defend the Empire’s interests, prioritizing orders over aristocratic traditions. The construction army you’ve brought follows the same principles. Northport must be built by someone like you; it cannot be any northern Governor, and it cannot even be me. Only then can we ensure that Northport belongs to the Empire, not to the northern parts of the Dark Mountain Range."

"But you seem quite indifferent to this." Byron Kirk glanced at Victoria Wilder, curiosity in his voice.

"The King’s choice is entirely correct, and as for me... when I chose the Cecil Order back then, it was hardly on impulse," Victoria Wilder replied calmly. "The old forces entrenched throughout the Empire are thorns that are hard to pull out. Aside from the southern borders, many parts of this country have yet to be thoroughly rectified. A great number of old aristocratic families still retain their influence, and eradicating that influence completely will take a very long time. Duke Baldwin and I both understand this, and we’ve decided to fully support every measure the King takes to reform this country. That’s why we sent our respective heirs to the imperial capital and were the first to respond to the Cross-Artery Railway plan.

"General Byron, the reason I’m telling you all this today is so that you can carry out your mission without distraction—Northport is an Imperial project, and the Wilder Clan will support it with everything we have. Our family has lived and multiplied on this land for hundreds of years; our influence on the northern parts of the Dark Mountain Range runs very deep, that’s something I cannot deny. From today on, all northerners under the influence of the Wilder Clan will not become an obstacle to the Northport project—that much, I can promise you."

Byron Kirk looked at Victoria Wilder deeply, then said with a half-smile, "...So in other words, once construction begins at Northport, any local forces that continue to cause obstruction... are not northerners."

"In a bitter and remote land, it is perfectly normal for the construction army to be harassed by roaming bandits, and it is likewise the construction army’s duty to exterminate bandits," Victoria Wilder said coolly. She turned around, her gaze calmly resting in the direction of the banquet hall. "Rest assured, those who sneak around with little tricks will never dare come into the open; bandits will always only be bandits. After a few knocks, those restless people will quiet down."

Byron Kirk couldn’t help but shake his head. "I’m only afraid that before Northport is completed, many people will secretly say you’ve betrayed the people of the North."

"Once Northport is finished, the ones singing its praises and offering it the most support will also be them," Victoria Wilder said expressionlessly. "They will quickly be awed by the sheer scale of cross-border trade and by the power the Empire displays in the process—and when it comes to profit, these people basically have no stance."

"By that time, it’ll be something for you, the Grand Governor, to worry about," Byron Kirk said casually. "I’m just a soldier. All I do is carry out orders from the King. My mission is Northport and the fleet, and on that basis, I won’t overstep by a single inch."

Victoria Wilder nodded, then added, "Besides, although my reminder may be a bit redundant, as the Duke of the North, there are some things I must still say—please be mindful of your limits. Some of those who disrupt order might just be commoners who’ve been stirred up."

"Duchess Victoria, I am a soldier," Byron Kirk looked into Victoria Wilder’s eyes and said seriously. "Distinguishing between enemy and friend is my most basic duty."

"Then I have nothing at all to worry about."