Horizon of War [Kingdom Building, No Harem, No LIT]

Chapter 148

Golden Darkness

 

Ingrid had arrived at the Hill Fort along with the rear guard and the supply train. Although she had met Angelo and reacquainted with the mage who was her junior, she declined his offer to board the airship. Ingrid feigned her distrust of the vessel, but in reality, it was because of her new role as the Lady of Korelia's confidant.

She was no longer solely bound to the mage guild but also to House Korimor, which would support her for the remainder of her life. Thus, Ingrid had a more careful approach to interacting with the mage guild.

In her mind, nobody needed to know anything unusual about the Lord and Lady. She would only admit that the Lord was a foreigner and the Lady was modestly talented in magic.

This was also the reason why Ingrid didn't board the airship: she feared meeting Sir Morton. Until she could find a better explanation, she preferred to avoid the Black Knight's Captain.

After two days of rest, the morning of the sixth day brought the Hill Fort alive with the arrival of several dozen nomads. Their arrival was welcomed with warm greetings. No less than the nomads' war leader himself, a man named Batu, had answered the call, likely piqued by three things: the report of Lord Lansius' wound; his newest conquest, a flying airship; and lastly, a half-beast in their ranks.

While the leaders visited the Lord and Lady, the rest of the nomads crowded around the airship. They were in awe, asking questions, and praising it. The airship assistants and newly formed guards, led by Sir Harold, kept them from getting too close.

They wanted nobody to poke holes or tinker with the intricate fuel mechanism. Fortunately, Francisca was there to divide the crowd's attention. The half-breed had no qualms about meeting the nomads and showed curiosity about them. She eagerly conversed with them and even arm-wrestled many of them, turning the situation into a lively spectacle.

Amidst this new wave of onlookers, the craftsmen and carpenters attached to Hill Fort were busy fulfilling the Lord's request for a wing-like apparatus for some experiment. Made from light balsa wood available in a certain part of the Umberland region, the wing, which was about several shields in length, was made to the Lord's specifications.

The troops, now well-rested, had also received orders to prepare to march. Tents were packed and loaded into bags, onto mules, or into carts.

Not all were leaving. Twenty light cavalry, 30 South Hill men-at-arms, and a few nomads would remain at the Hill Fort alongside Three Hill's 30 men-at-arms. The job of leading this fort was left on Captain Dietrich's shoulders. He was tasked with preparing the fort for wintering and to maintain their hold on the surrounding area.

Interestingly, the Grand Alliance's decision to build a fort attracted shepherds, peddlers, and others from nearby settlements seeking work or trade. The enclosed walls and military presence made the camp attractive. In their own words, there were mouths to feed, men to entertain, jobs to fill, and coins to be made.

Ingrid noticed that the hill was quite strategic, halfway from Three Hills to Korimor and also to Umberland. While travelers from Three Hills and Korimor could bypass the hill completely, it wasn’t taxing to detour to the hill for the guarantee of safe lodging. Thus, a natural stopping point between three cities was born.

Lord Lansius allowed them to operate their businesses inside the fort tax-free as long as they followed the regulations, kept it clean, and helped with maintenance.

As the Lady's confidant and mentor, Ingrid also supervised the scribes who were preparing to leave. Without them keeping track of payments and deeds, it would be a nightmare.

Yesterday, ten South Hill Knights returned along with fifty light cavalry and seventy men-at-arms, marking the end of the 4425 campaign.

The House had left the remainder of its Nicopolan camp followers in the three villages with plenty of winter crops to sow and supplies to last through the winter. Over one thousand men were left with Servius and absorbed into the free company, tasked with guarding and possibly expanding into Nicopola.

One of the scribes maintained records of the other Nicopolans who didn't join Servius:

100 Black Bandits with undisputed loyalty traveled as they pleased, acting as spies.

200 skirmishers led by Farkas as the rear guard.

600 lightly armed levies who chose to follow the Lord and move to Korimor or Korelia.

100 Black Bandits in Three Hills led by Dame Daniella along with her own group.

200 in South Hill who wished to stay under Captain Sigmund.

It was quite a significant number of Nicopolans. But Ingrid noticed it was only a third from their original number and thus much more manageable and less risky. The Lord planned to bring them to Korimor and Korelia for wintering and for possible settlement.

Lord Lansius' current main force was comprised of:

10 Knights, led by Sir Harold.

30 Light Cavalry.

250 Dragoons, equipped like men-at-arms and with crossbows.

90 Nomadic horse archers and scouts, led by Batu.

Despite not being at full strength, it was still a powerful reaction force. Throughout the day, preparations were made and scouts rode out first to secure the path. However, even Ingrid didn't know how they would proceed with the march. The details were still held by the Lord, Lady, and Sir Harold.

 

***

 

Lansius

It was several hours before departure when Carla and Sterling helped clean the desk and found Sir Morton's letter. They reminded Lansius, who finally decided to act upon the Mage Knight's suggestions.

The suggestion itself was quite cryptic, but Lansius, still being carried on a litter, told his men to find the coachman and the cart. The letter stated that the coachman was seeking merchants or nobles to transport goods to Korimor, thinking he could then find another employer to travel back to Three Hills before winter for a nice profit.

When they found the man, the surprised coachman quickly admitted what had piqued Sir Morton's interest in his cart. His explanation only fueled Lansius' curiosity further.

A dwarven artifact? That Morton should've told me from the start.

"My Lord, why don't you just summon me? You don't have to come to the stable," the coachman said nervously while presenting his cart.

"No need to feel nervous. I promise I only wanted to learn. I'll not take it from you," Lansius reassured him.

With the help of Lansius' men, they slid a wooden block under the frame to stabilize it. Carefully, they lifted the cart slightly and positioned it securely on the block, then proceeded to use mallets and hammers to dislodge the metal pins.

After tapping the chisel into the gap between the wheel and the axle, they gently pried the linchpin—the one object that held the wheel securely on the axle—from its seat. With the linchpin removed, they carefully held the wheel with both hands and slid it off the axle.

The coachman used a rough cloth to remove the thin coat of smelly grease, revealing a gleaming metal ring with perfectly round metal balls sandwiched between an inner and outer ring. "My Lord, this is the piece that Sir Morton was talking about."

Lansius was soon captivated by the object. He then recognized its shape and function and began to doubt himself.

The coachman spun it, and anyone could see that the axle shaft connected to the inner ring rotated freely despite the outer ring being locked in place to the wheel hub.

The men looked amazed but exchanged glances as their lord maintained his silence.

He was stunned and paralyzed by this revelation. He wanted to scream that it was impossible, but the uncorroded gleaming object, likely made from stainless steel, was not going anywhere. It was a ball bearing, yet finding it was far more shocking than seeing an airship.

A hot air balloon could be achieved with medieval technology, but a ball bearing was an entirely different game. Lansius pondered that it was named a dwarven artifact meant that the dwarves in this world had achieved industrial revolution.

Hannei, what kind of secret are you holding from me...

He recalled his only Earthling friend, an explorer who dealt with finding dwarven artifacts on the old continent.

Ball bearing production required precision engineering, the hallmark of the industrial revolution. Only now did Lansius realize the stories about their grand citadels under the mountain and their extensive tunnel network on the old continent were not just magical but also industrial.

"My Lord, is there something wrong?" Sterling asked, but Lansius raised his hand; he needed more time to think.

He knew he had wrongly assumed the dwarves to be generic like those in his world's storybooks. But obviously, they had no business fitting into an earthling's foolish stereotype.

By seeing this one artifact, Lansius understood that the dwarves in this world had truly achieved the pinnacle of civilization. If all the lore were true, then they had made a working portal to another world, bypassing the need for space exploration, and traveled successfully to a suitable world. And they had done that thousands of years ago.

Ignoring his men and the coachman's questioning gaze, Lansius pulled out the gemstone of strength that Ingrid had returned to him. He knew there was nothing written on it, but he needed to be sure. For all he knew, it might contain an advanced microchip.

Lansius knew that any sufficiently advanced technology was indistinguishable from magic. Alas, not even his finger could sense anything but the smooth contour of a gemstone.

Despite still being troubled, he fished two silver coins from his purse and motioned for the coachman to take them. "It's a fascinating object. It made me think about the possibilities."

"I'm glad My Lord thinks that way," replied the coachman with a gladdened face.

Then, using his crutch, Lansius walked closer to inspect it. There was a bit of black muddy grease remaining, but he noticed a different alloy used and embossed letters that he couldn't decipher.

Dwarven language.

The letters were sharp, with clean, crisp lines, perfect alignment, and flawless consistency. There was no variation in depth or width, confirming that the item wasn't handcrafted but was likely produced on an assembly line with precision machines. Moreover, despite several burring marks, likely from a wooden hammer used to fit them into the axle, the object looked almost pristine. The roundness of the bearing rings clearly indicated the use of an advanced lathe machine.

Helped by Sterling, Lansius returned to his litter, his countenance sharp but lost in thought. Only when he was about to be carried away did he turn to the coachman and say, "Join me in my march. You shall carry the airship crew and their goods to Korimor and Korelia."

"Gratitude, My Lord," the coachman replied, happy to have likely won the favor of the most powerful man in Lowlandia.

 

***

 

Korimor

Hugo and Michael had apprehended several smugglers and found evidence of forged letters. One capture led to another, and then several shops and even a warehouse were confiscated.

This success was due to multiple suspicions that had been ignored until Daniella's letter shed light on how the smugglers operated.

At the end of the day, they easily rounded up several heads of families and their top confidants. Michael was leading the investigation, alternating with Hugo. Meanwhile, Omin did the painstaking work of checking captured documents for more damning evidence.

Despite their success, it was a messy affair. They had caught the ire of many wealthy families.

After they had their supper, Omin said ominously to Hugo, "They're in too deep."

"That's good, isn't it?" Hugo voiced without concern. "More people with more faults, then more money we can confiscate."

"It's not that easy," Omin rejected as they walked the castle's corridor. "They'll be afraid—"

"They should be," Hugo interjected carelessly.

"It's not fear I worry about, but desperation," Omin stated firmly, locking eyes with Hugo.

Hugo stood his ground as Omin elaborated, "If those families are caught too deep in this, they likely will resort to desperate actions."

The knight finally let out a resigned breath. "Fine, I'll alert my men."

"Make sure everyone is armed and the castle doors are locked," Omin urged. "I don't want to die because of the guards' carelessness. Korimor people are not to be trusted. They have betrayed many lords before me, and don't you dare think it would be any different with Lady Audrey."

Hugo waved his hand dismissively and headed toward the courtyard accompanied by his squire.

As he stepped out, he saw Michael. Hugo was about to greet him when he saw Michael's expression. "What happened? Any why I didn't see you at the great hall for supper."

"I just rode out—our barley storage has been set ablaze," Michael reported hastily.

"What!?" Hugo's eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

"Worry not. I arrived in time with the guards from the gatehouse. We put the fire out," Michael said, and Hugo sighed in relief.

"We're fortunate it didn't burn down everything. But this is getting out of hand. I even heard reports of guards being pelted with stones."

What had started as a crackdown on smuggling was quickly spiraling into something far nastier. "We can't back down from this," Hugo said firmly.

Michael readily nodded. "We need to be vigilant."

"Go get something to eat and take care of the castle. Make sure it's secure," Hugo said, turning to the stable.

"Where are you going?"

"I'll ride with the guards to calm the masses and instill fear in those who go against us," Hugo replied. Upon hearing this, his squire sprang into action.

"Remember, we're going against smugglers, not the townspeople," Michael advised.

"I know. I'll be thoughtful in my actions," Hugo reassured his comrade.

That night, he visited the barley storage and the guards posted there. He also patrolled the city, answered some questions from the townsfolk, and went to sleep in the gatehouse to make sure that nothing was amiss.

However, the next day, despite his diligence, things turned worse. The smugglers were not to be underestimated.

 

***

 

The Great Plains of Lowlandia

With a gentle touch upon the gemstone, a beam of light emitted from the airship and projected onto the grass in front of them. The nomads and the cavalry cheered loudly. Now they could ride with more confidence through the night.

"Onward," Sir Harold's voice was heard from below, along with high-pitched rallying cries from Batu.

Lansius' polished brass contraption had worked as intended. Mounted on the side of the airship, it provided illumination like a spotlight.

"That worked great," Audrey said with similar excitement. Her face was bathed in the soft glow from the furnace above them. Unlike the black airship, this one's fuel burner wasn't concealed, allowing good illumination for the pilot and passenger in the gondola.

Lansius smiled. "It took quite a lot of effort. Be sure to tighten the mounting once you manage to keep the light in front of the furthest rider."

Audrey did as she was told. Meanwhile, the pilot, Hans, turned to Lansius, reporting, "My Lord, we're gaining more speed."

"Then it's time for the next experiment." Lansius rotated the pole mounted in the middle of their gondola. The pole was connected to a wing apparatus made of lightweight balsa wood.

The canard wing caught the wind, and immediately they saw the line connecting the gondola to the airship slacken. "It's working," he announced, genuinely surprised and thrilled.

"My Lord, does it react well when you adjust it?" asked Hans, who looked more like a blacksmith than a pilot.

"Certainly," Lansius replied, adjusting the canard wing to give less lift and locking it into place.

Audrey observed the wooden wing spreading to their left and right and gazed at Lansius. "Tell me, does this wing allow us to fly higher?"

"It might, but that's dangerous," Lansius chuckled. "However, it may let us fly safer and further."

Audrey reached her hand out near the wing and was amazed by the stronger stream of air that flowed around it.

"My Lord, should we proceed as planned?" Hans asked from the front.

Lansius observed the wing before giving a nod. "Let's do it slowly and steadily."

Hans wiped the sweat from his face and let out a small grin before returning to his control and watching the front. "Descending," he announced.

Immediately, the glow of the fire in the furnace grew weaker, while the metal cables that went to the back of the balloon strained to give the tail wing as much lift as possible. Normally, this would create drag and reduce speed, but right now they were in a unique situation.

"Adjusting the wing," Lansius announced, letting the canard give more lift.

Gradually, the airship drew closer to the ground, but at one point it remained steady and even regained some altitude. Hans turned to Lansius and gave a big grin, "I found the perfect setting, My Lord. A quarter more than the lowest."

"Excellent," Lansius praised. Then to Audrey, "Now we can fly just like this, saving a lot of fuel."

"And running as fast as riding horses," Audrey added.

Lansius nodded with a big smile. This experiment was only successful because they had tied their airship to four long ropes held by the nomads' best riders on the other end. The riders adjusted the rope slack as needed and maintained a good speed while regularly changing their weary horses without needing to stop.

The light from the airship allowed the operation to proceed even more smoothly.

As Batu had said when he heard of this plan, essentially, they towed the airship. It was a crude but foolproof method. Yet, as he knew, a method wasn't stupid if it worked. It allowed them, who were without a mage pilot to reach optimal speed without flying high and consuming excessive fuel.

Furthermore, this setup allowed them to travel even further than usual because it did not require accounting for Lansius' riding endurance. Their Lord could sit back comfortably in the gondola and still match the speed of the fastest rider in Lowlandia.

Audrey carefully pulled a woolen blanket over Lansius. "I know you're excited, but try to get some sleep."

"But I need to keep an eye on the wing," he argued.

"I sort of understand how to use it. It's like a boat rudder, but instead of water, it's against the wind," she reassured him.

Lansius looked doubtful, so Audrey turned to Hans, "Hey, if the wing doesn't work as expected, can the airship recover?"

"Certainly, My Lady. With that brass light, it's easy to determine our bearing and altitude. Also, since we don't rely on hot air for propulsion, I can release high-pressure fuel quickly as needed," said Hans confidently. "Frankly, with this speed, even the ship's tail wing could lift us away from any risk of crashing."

Audrey turned to Lansius, who shrugged, "I guess we'll take turns to sleep. Someone needs to help Hans."

"I'll be sure to wake you up in a few hours," Audrey smiled.

"Liar," Lansius muttered with a sly grin, which only made Audrey's smile widen.

As Lansius sank his head deeper into the pillow, his gaze wandered from the glow of the furnace to the night sky, twinkling with stars. Above, the mighty balloon, powered by a secret fuel mixture, kept them aloft. Although somewhat mysterious, Lansius considered himself lucky. With the airship, he found himself painlessly traversing the vast expanses of his domain—a feat he had never imagined possible.

Before, he had vomited blood when he rode hard from Korelia to Korimor. Now, he could close his eyes and still cover great distances. As he drifted into sleep, he couldn't help but wonder what other surprises this world would bring and whether he had it in him to use them to his advantage.

 

***