Steel and Mana

Chapter 221 – Stress Test

In the past few days, while Sasha was working on creating the typewriter, I went to visit my Father with Mikan. This time, it was just the two of us because we were implementing the first tattoo of our knightly order. Even though he was the very first of the Knights and the senior member of my Roundtable Hold, there was no ceremony to be held for the occasion. I knew him well, and if he hated something, that was to start fussing about things instead of cutting straight to the chase. He had already chosen the place where he wanted it, so applying it to his left shoulder didn't take long, completely locking down the Lion before anyone else's hands.

After we tested it, it worked perfectly. The mech remained offline when Mikan or I tried to use it, and the formation within the machine didn't react at all to our commands and inputs. It remained dormant and only came to life when my Father sat in the pilot's chair, functioning as intended.

Of course, hearing the success, it was Yuri's turn to get one. Because she insisted on its location, she got her formation tattooed right under her navel, around the area where her babyroom was located… Aaaand she immediately began showing it around, making it hard to force her to wear regular clothes for a while.

Luckily, she was preoccupied with Lancelot, so she never really left the palace grounds to cause me a bit of a headache. By now, she had settled into her role as a mum instead. It was good to have a big family because while Sasha and I were working, there was always someone to care for the kids, and even if all of us had to be elsewhere, my Mom was always available.

On one such day, when I had to be away since morning, I stood in our secured logistics yard, looking at the white, filtered water vapor escaping my locomotive's chimney as it slowly came to a halt, carrying the heaviest load we probably have for it... for now. Although we announced that the train's test would be carrying passengers, of course, that was more for a show. In reality, that test was happening right now as the Avalon Arrow was arriving at the lot, pulling behind it a long and wide cart with the completed, newest mech lying on it. I knew that my train could do it, but it was the first time that my people also realized what it really meant. What it would offer to my merchants and to our military logistics. Of course, its speed was severely reduced, slugging along at 15 or 20 kilometers per hour with that heavy load attached to it. It was consuming a quadruple amount of coal to get here, but it did it without the help of magic to boot.

This was the actual stress test of my locomotive and the railway itself. Its results made it clear that we needed to improve our train's driveshaft, wheels, and the track itself, which were deformed at multiple places while it got here. All of those had to be replaced before the train could be used again. But it was a great success nonetheless because it showed our limits. Plus, whenever it is going to come down to carrying such a heavy load, we will use weight reduction magic, as our military is too important to be pedantic about it.

With the newest mech in place, I got into it, making it stand up before exiting its cockpit and letting my workers continue their jobs. With great efficiency, they erected scaffolding around the barebone machine in under an hour and started to pull off the rest of the cargo from the filled train carts. It was time to armor it and attach the weapon systems, mimicking my Father's mech, giving it long-range capabilities. It was what Mirian asked for, and it made it much easier to produce. While watching them work, I was thinking about which would be better… Contact her to tell the Empress that her order is completed, or wait and stretch it out? Probably the latter… It is best if she believes manufacturing one machine takes a long time. Plus, she still owes me those three cores she promised; I just used up my last one that was eligible to power a mech…

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Within the capital city of Ishillia, the old monster under the palace was sitting in an old armchair, reading the reports his agents delivered to him only a day ago. They were written not only in a coded language but also in one that was considered old and lost, belonging to the very first Emperors, spoken thousands of years ago, in the Days of Glory. It was something that, by the time the Emperor of Magic got to rule Ishillia, was no longer in use, archaic, and forgotten.

"A hundred and fifty-eight…" He mumbled, counting the small and big families his people had already infiltrated and were being nudged to his side.

Looking towards the table before him, which contained a detailed map of Ishillia with all the current noble families mapped on it, his men only managed to penetrate a quarter of the country's aristocratic lineages. What troubled him was that Mirian kept announcing new laws and edicts every week. While many of these nobles complained, openly voicing their disagreements, the regular people praised her name at every opportunity. What always calmed his nerves was that the masses didn't matter in the big picture, not with their pitchforks and torches. The last peasant rebellion happened 800 years ago; nobody remembers it because it was over in only two months. After every rebellious soul was put on a pike, lining the road from the Capital to the eastern borders, people very quickly forgot about trying to rebel against the crown.

"You want to amass an army of peasants, my dear girl? In the end… you are nothing but a youngster, making mistakes and overestimating people." He shrugged, shaking his head, returning his aged gaze to the reports in his hand.

Flipping through it, he soon found the one from Otto. While reading, he began smiling because Otto informed him that he was working on securing the Empire's western borders, going above what was expected from him. He has been establishing connections with the neighboring Principality of Lacri and the Kingdom of Clauria, their rulers and nobles behind closed doors. He was working tirelessly, trying to make the two countries go at each other's throats so they wouldn't have time and power to interfere if anything happened within Ishillia.

He also mentioned that one of his agents has been sent forth to infiltrate the Frontier, and so far, she was doing well, getting very close to a newly built city called Avalon. According to her latest reports, they were constructing some kind of highway so people could move faster in and out of the region. This was the first concrete proof for Pascal that Mirian was working on infrastructure so her soldiers could move unhindered.

"You poor, poor girl… Choosing the Frontier as your base is both an advantage and disadvantage!" Pascal murmured while chuckling, feeling much more asserted that everything was still within his grasp. "While it is far away from here, you need to start from zero... That will be your downfall!"

He even felt slightly excited because he now considered Mirian's plan a necessary and logical step. He even admired her and felt a bit sorry that she would have to die in the end. With these reports, he once again had his hand on the pulse of Ishillia, realizing that it was indeed weak and rotting from within. It was in dire need of proper culling and restrengthening. All the nobles he sent to the newly conquered Kingdom of Scorc were having major troubles, suffering constant harassment from guerilla troops and rebellious movements. They repeatedly failed to control the population and could only whine and cry for more help. Those nobles Pascal remembered would have already dealt with the region and would have integrated it into Ishillia with a brutal, iron fist! Instead, these idiots were wasting their money and the lives of their own soldiers. He was getting more annoyed by them than by Mirian's actions!

These fattened worms, leeching off of his Empire, had to be burned. He now also acknowledged it. Ishillia indeed needed a cleansing fire to reawaken its spirit. So, he allowed everything for Mirian. No matter what strange laws and preparations she made, he never once spoke up against her. Let her think all is going to her plan while she dances to his tune. She will fall just the same as everyone else when he pulls the curtains on her clown show…

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"Do we have confirmation?" Mirian asked, sitting down with a long sigh and landing right next to her husband.

"Um." Milan nodded, quickly pulling her into his lap, caressing her head while she kicked off her high heels and enjoyed his touch as she was lying there. "All three of the cores were smuggled out by our people, and now they are en route to my Father before being shipped to Avalon. I made sure to send them on different paths, and if all goes well, they will arrive in about a week difference between them. I also sent forth five decoy caravans while another man had been dispatched, carrying the information to my dad. Everything should go as we planned!"

"I hope… Because if we lose any of those monster cores, I can't sneak out another."

"There won't be any issues, believe me!"

"You turned out to be the most optimistic guy~ Was it my influence?"

"Maybe?" He chuckled, no longer able to think about his life differently. He was not only enjoying Mirian and her antics but also loving her. Truly. When she was not a little assertive demon, she ended up acting cutesy and purring like a kitten in his embrace, just like now. "Want to take a bath? You have been touring the southern regions for a month now."

"I do feel tired… I think I will take a break, shut myself in our bedroom, and do nothing but hang on you~!"

"For how long?" He asked with a chuckle, picking her up to bring her over to their private pool and indoor bathhouse.

"For a week!"

"Damn, can we last that long?"

"I only need your nutrients, fufufufu~!"

"What about me?" Milan shrugged, smiling, letting her hang onto his neck, snuggling up to him.

"We can share…" she whispered, licking his skin and giggling. "I love your taste… Let me also lick something stiffer… and hot. Miri wants her popsicle~!"

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