The Merchant

A caravan made its way north along the narrow Anzeta Corridor toward the City of Romulo, the southernmost tip of the imperial mainland. At the head of the caravan was Joseph Salazar, a renowned merchant of the Kingdom of Thrace, one of the directors of the Pearson Chamber of Commerce, and the man in overall charge of the chamber's trade with the Empire. Rumor had it he possessed one-sixteenth elven blood, granting him far handsomer and more youthful looks than ordinary men. Though he had already passed half a century in age, he still appeared to be in his thirties. Right now, gazing out at the seemingly endless narrow valley, Joseph tapped the ground impatiently with his cane. "How much longer until we arrive?" "My lord, once we emerge from the Anzeta Corridor, we will be on the mainland of the Cinder Empire," a guard answered. "That is basic common sense!" Joseph snapped in irritation. "How long has this trade route been open, and you haven't even familiarized yourselves with the surroundings?!" "Lord Joseph, this is our first time as well..." The guard offered an apologetic grin and bowed repeatedly, which finally mollified Joseph's temper somewhat. In truth, the City of Tahan in the Katepa Region had a teleportation circle leading directly to Isdalia, but Joseph had turned down their assistance under the pretext of "seeking business opportunities." This was merely an excuse, of course. Besides being a director of the chamber, Joseph had another identity—he was the "white glove" of King Wilhelm's eldest son, Prince Bowers. He leveraged his ties with the prince to gain insider information for profit, accumulating wealth for His Highness and handling affairs the prince could not be seen dirtying his hands with. Although their trade with the Cinder Empire had grown frequent in recent years, the Kingdom of Thrace had been preoccupied with war. Most of those transactions were handled entirely by the Imperial South Continent Company; Thrace only had to wait in the south to receive the goods. Coupled with the Cinder Empire's airtight security and comprehensive intelligence apparatus, the upper echelons of the Kingdom of Thrace actually knew remarkably little about its internal conditions. On this journey to the Cinder Empire, Joseph carried the mission of gathering imperial intelligence: including, but not limited to, mapping terrain, scouting defensive positions, investigating military readiness, and stealing ordnance blueprints... Naturally, to gain a better grasp of the situation, they had hired an imperial guide in the City of Tahan named Heya Gatti. This guide possessed striking beauty, yet Joseph always felt her pupils resembled those of a reptile, giving him an inexplicable sense of danger... "Worry not, Mr. Salazar. We will reach Isdalia before nightfall. And we will not need to trek out of the Anzeta Corridor on foot either." Heya walked up from behind, her voice gentle. Joseph asked with a hint of suspicion, "Why is that?" Heya broke into a smile and extended an arm forward. "Up ahead is the Anzeta Corridor Station. We can simply take a steam locomotive to Isdalia." "A steam locomotive..." He had heard the term before. It was a mode of transportation unique to the Empire, reputed to be remarkably convenient. Joseph looked in the direction she pointed. An open clearing had been leveled up ahead, where metal tracks were laid across the ground, stretching all the way to the end of the valley. The surfaces of the steel rails were smooth and even, uniform in color, free of hammer marks, dents, or cracks. It was obviously high-quality steel. "Steel of such quality, simply laid out on the ground?" Joseph was stunned. Even the former Fadlan Empire would never have been so extravagant. Heya explained with a smile, "Mr. Salazar, the Empire's steel production would likely exceed your wildest imagination. They use enormous furnaces to pool all the scrap steel and pig iron together. "Furthermore... every inch of this belongs to His Majesty. Within the Empire's borders, absolutely no one dares steal it." Joseph quickly composed his expression, putting on an air of indifference. "I had assumed Anzeta was merely a remote, barren wasteland, but it seems it is indeed somewhat more prosperous than I imagined. "Still, compared to the Holy Fadlan of old, this is hardly worth mentioning." *Whoosh—* With the piercing blast of a whistle, a steel behemoth rolled forward amidst billowing plumes of steam, grinding to a halt before the caravan. Instantly, every jaw dropped except Heya's, and Joseph was no exception. Several guards even thought an enemy was bearing down on them and nervously raised their shields to form a defensive line. "Do not fret, everyone. That is merely the Empire's steam locomotive." Heya offered an inviting gesture with a light laugh, then said, "All aboard, Mr. Salazar. "There is no need to feel embarrassed. Everyone reacts this way the first time they see one." Joseph promptly closed his mouth and forced a stiff smile, parrying her remark: "Compared to the Iron Sentinels of Fadlan, this too is hardly worth mentioning. "I am merely curious: is this steam train open to ordinary citizens, or does it cater solely to dignitaries and the nobility? And what about our goods?" Heya replied patiently, "The steam locomotive is a blessing bestowed upon all imperial subjects by His Majesty. For a negligible fee, anyone may use it. It is exceptionally convenient. "As a poet once wrote: 'His Majesty bridged mountains and plateaus with steel, drawing distances between people infinitely closer.'" She gave a soft chuckle and continued, "As for your goods? You need worry even less. This steam locomotive can carry up to three hundred tons of cargo. "These steel behemoths rumble back and forth between north and south loaded with freight, transporting tens of thousands of tons of cargo every month to distribute imperial merchandise across all of Feanso." Joseph took out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his forehead, murmuring, "Indeed, quite convenient..." At that moment, however, what came to his mind was the Cinder Empire's capacity for military mobilization. Permanent teleportation circles were far from ubiquitous; constructing and maintaining them was exorbitantly expensive. Yet these steam locomotives could transport hundreds of tons of freight, meaning moving soldiers would be trivial. In other words, at a single command from that emperor, the entire imperial military could swiftly mass in the south—which spelled utter disaster for the Kingdom of Thrace. What was more, things that were clearly magical creations were actually made available to commoners! Even Holy Fadlan in its prime would never have committed such foolishness. So Joseph reasoned. After paying a freight fare of twenty-one gold dinars, all members of the nearly hundred-strong caravan boarded the train, and their merchandise was loaded into the cargo cars. *Whoosh—* With the shriek of the whistle and billowing gray smoke, the steam locomotive surged into motion once more, thundering along the tracks toward the north. Moving at no sluggish pace, it soon traversed the Anzeta Corridor and entered the vast Great Anzetta Wasteland. Joseph gazed at the scenery through the window, secretly recording with an imagery stone disguised as a medallion on his chest. But as the train sped along and the landscape flashed past, what could be captured was extremely limited. Suddenly, he narrowed his eyes. "Are those... farmlands?" In the distance lay vast, level fields stretching all the way to the horizon, with neat rows of furrows cut through the fertile soil. "Compared to the farmlands of the Great Central Plains, this can only be considered..." Suddenly, his eyes widened, the words freezing in his throat. Steel behemoths with massive wheels were lumbering across the fields, using their wide "maws" to till the soil and scatter seeds. Billowing dense smoke rose from behind these beasts as well. The sight struck Joseph as utterly preposterous. Magic. Unquestionably magical creations. How could these Anzetans, living in what was supposedly a magical wasteland, use precious magical creations for the lowest, most menial work of farming the land? What had become of the world? You use magical creations for this?! Even in Holy Fadlan of old, spellcasters were beings of noble status who would never stoop to such debased labor. As if discerning the shock in Joseph's eyes, Heya volunteered, "Those are combine seeders, another blessing granted to us by His Majesty." She gazed at the distant fields and sighed wistfully. "Anzeta was once shrouded in starvation and bitter cold, but now we have left food shortages behind. "This Lir Farmland is actually nothing special. The most magnificent is the Matra Farmland in the north, which was once a desolate waste. "Several years ago, His Majesty Cassius personally wielded supreme power to raise the earth into towering mountain ranges, blocking the freezing northern winds. It warmed the land and revealed endless stretches of fertile black soil from beneath the snow. "Today, seventy percent of the Empire's grain supply comes from the Matra Farmland." As she spoke, Heya's tone took on a reverent edge, her beautiful eyes filled with admiration and fanaticism. Hearing this, Joseph's gaze filled with utter shock and even a trace of disbelief. Altering topography? Raising entire mountain ranges?! If what she said was true, even legendary wizards would find such a feat near impossible; that was an effect attainable perhaps only by spells transcending the ninth tier of the Weave. He had not even reached Isdalia, the legendary imperial capital, yet the encounters of this brief journey alone had delivered an immense shock to Joseph—even filling him with a creeping panic. Could an empire like this, radiating ferocious ambition at every turn, truly remain content with just the two barren territories of Anzeta and Katepa?