Steel and Mana

Chapter 290 – Mark II

It was a scorching summer day when I received a message from Dorian. He had come personally to invite me to his workshop, where he had completed something I had been waiting for for a long time: a new helmet for my soldiers. Of course, I had to see it at once, so I left after a quick shower, inviting my General with me to his workshop because this was something he had to see for himself, too. He had to be the first to get a feel for the new equipment among my soldiers.

Arriving, Dorian's plant buzzed with the whirr of machinery, creating textiles from our raw resources and the occasional drone of electricity as our industrial district was the first to be hooked up to our coal plant. Since it was completed, all of our factories have been running day and night with people working different shifts. I think Dorian was already employing more than a thousand souls, if not more. He was, for sure, one of the biggest among my people who were running their own private enterprises. Arriving, we were led to his office while he stood in the center of the room, his self-tailored silver-and-crimson jacket gleaming under the lights. Every one of the fixtures was on, making sure that not even on the hottest day of this summer could any shadow creep in and interfere with work and, especially not with his presentation.

The walls within his planning room were lined with sketches, prototypes, and fabric swatches—he wasn't just making a helmet out of monster materials; he was making an art piece. A soldier of mine will wear this helmet for extended periods, so the inside had to be cushioned and comfortable. Not to mention, they should be protected as much as possible when someone gets close enough, trying to bash their heads in. The idea of comfort was usually an afterthought. This detail was typically lost when it came down to army-oriented pieces of equipment, no matter what they were. Stepping further into the room, on a polished steel table before us, there it was. The Mark II helmet. The culmination of Dorian's painstaking work, implementing all that we came up with.

I walked around the table with measured strides, examining it without touching it, taking in the fact that it was... badass-looking. He had a knack for design because it was a mix of the image of a knight's helmet with a skull-mask faceplate. It looked... cool. Of course, it wasn't just me or Oleg coming along; all of Dorian's leading engineers and artisans in the room stood in silence as I examined their collective work, stopping a few paces from their boss in the end.

"Dorian," I began, my voice calm but curious. "Never stop being you." I chuckled, patting his shoulder and making him let out a tired chuckle, as working on this was not easy and was an arduous, long journey. "I assume this is the Mark II?" I asked, out of politeness, to let him explain it. He quickly gave a deep bow, which looked theatrical yet was also sincere; I could feel it.

"Indeed, My Sovereign. Allow me to present Avalon's next great leap in soldier protection and efficiency—the Mark II: The Crusader!" He swept a hand toward the table, his smile a mix of pride and anticipation.

"Crusader?" I asked, surprised at the naming convention he chose for it.

"Well, after reading about all that is going on in the world in the latest papers, I thought it would be appropriate."

"Hehe... sure. Why not?" I grinned, nodding at him to continue.

Dorian lifted the helmet with practiced care, its black surface catching and swallowing the light from above, looking like it was made out of one whole block. From the outside, you simply couldn't see any stitches or rivets, anything that could tell how it was put together. Its matte black surface was interrupted only by a faint silvery etching, a subtle touch of artistry that also served as the surface for the runes built into. It was what allowed it to tap into its newest functions. When he turned it so I could see its features more clearly, he continued explaining all that they managed to include in it.

"First and foremost, the Mark II armor set, along with the helmet, is fully sealed," Dorian began, his voice carrying the precision of a proud artisan showcasing his masterwork. "With the accompanying Mark II armor, which includes an underlayer that integrates seamlessly with the plating and the helmet, the wearer is protected from fumes and extreme environments like acid splashes. It will cover all exposed skin, protecting our soldiers and, for a short time, even allowing them submersion underwater! Well, as long as they can hold their breath, that is. No Avalon soldier will be unprepared for unexpected terrains!"

This means that if I develop a proper breathing apparatus and a wearable oxygen tank, I can have amphibian troops ready. Oh boy, Dorian, you outdid yourself!

"Impressive." Oleg nodded, his eyes glowing with desire, wanting to don his new 'uniform' at once and test it to its limit. Heck, I was sure he was thinking about collecting all his best soldiers and having a mock battle with two factions from them. One side wearing the new and current set of armor.

"The visor can be raised for direct visibility," Dorian continued happily. He pressed a button near the chin, and the visor slid up with a soft hiss as he spoke. "Should it be needed. But when down..." He pushed it back into place with only one finger, showcasing how easy it was; the visor began glowing faintly for a moment on the inside. On the outside, it looked like the skull's eyes lit up with red light for a brief moment, making it chilling for anyone witnessing it. Looking into the helmet, I saw the image turning crystal clear, acting as if I was looking at some modern augmented headset from my original world. "The wearer's vision is enhanced by the magical projection system." Dorian continued proudly, "It offers a perfectly clear view of their surroundings in a 220-degree, My Sovereign!"

"No distortion?" I asked as I leaned closer, inspecting the visor.

"None," Dorian assured me with confidence. "Moreover, the helmet includes an optical zoom feature that can be activated by a slider on the side of the helmet. It can be locked in place to stop accidental use. Perfect for scouting or targeting as it implements our spotting devices in its entirety."

"And communication?" Oleg asked as he considered it more important than seeing what they could achieve with an already existing device.

"Built-in radio transmitter and receiver." Dorian tapped the backside of the helmet. "Instant, secure communication between units, officers, and even the command center. Its range still falls around the one-kilometer radius, but linking up can extend that as our soldiers already demonstrated it on the fields."

As he spoke, Dorian pressed another concealed button, and the helmet emitted a soft hum. Symbols began to shimmer across its surface, lighting up the skull design, turning it almost spectral and more frightening as the eyes also lit up once again. Damn... these are theatrics... they are edgy... but Gods... I love it!

"And this," he continued, his voice dropping for emphasis, "is where the Mark II truly shines. Using a combination of our already developed and proven magic devices and engineering, the helmet detects nearby magical formations, active spells, or concentrated magical presences. It marks them for the soldier, both visually on the projection and audibly through the comms. No more ambushes from invisible foes, and they can choose to use jamming formations to deal with the enemy mages in their view! Prompted, they are close enough. The working distance... needs live testing, My Sovereign."

I stood silent for a moment, my gaze fixed on the helmet. Then I reached out, took it from Dorian's hands, turned it over carefully, and examined it, touching the comfortable insides at the neck; I could not find anything to complain about. Putting it on and cycling through its functions, I remembered Merlin's words. If we indeed managed to add the new features to the Mark III, that would be insane. After giving it to Oleg, who was like a kid receiving an early Christmas gift, I couldn't help but chuckle, seeing him almost squeal in excitement.

"You've thought of everything, Dorian," I said proudly.

"I try, My Sovereign." He answered with a faint smile. "The Mark II is not merely functional; it is a statement. This is a testament to our superiority in these dangerous times. Its design is to frighten our enemies, to make them and their children remember that fighting us is like brushing past death. With your approval, My Sovereign, we are ready for mass production."

I only had to glance at Oleg, who was already wearing it, and I was unsure if he would take it off, even if I ordered him to.

"Approved. Begin production immediately! Every soldier in Avalon's army will wear this."

Dorian let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding until now and then continued with another surprise.

"My Sovereign, we can modify the old armor sets. We can upgrade them to the Mark II. Only the helmets need a complete redo."

"Even better." I nodded, appreciating his approach, "As for the old helmets, we will send them to my Uncle."

"Are we?" Both Oleg and Dorian asked, surprised.

"Yeah. He can use it on his elite guard. Let's make them happy." I smiled, deciding it then and there.

"It will be done, My Sovereign!"

"I always enjoy your designs, Dorian." I continued, "This is more than armor—it is an art piece. It does more than I hoped to, and for that, you and all of your people will be rewarded. Good job, everyone!"

As I exited the room filled with the quiet murmurs of engineers and artisans, excited beyond belief, I couldn't help but chuckle. This felt great! Back in the room, Only Dorian remained still, his hands resting lightly on the Mark II. It took a bit of effort from me to get Oleg to give it back. I've been calling for him to come multiple times, and Dorian had to promise he would be the foremost person in Avalon to get the first set.

And to think, Dorian was an unpolished gem, almost lost in the hands of worthless nobles... I wondered how many similar, hard-working, and talented people are being squandered all around the continent. Maybe I should start spreading the rumors that people with genuine talent are always welcomed in Avalon.

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The Grand Hall of the Goldlight Guild stood as a symbol of trade and wealth in the western region of the Atuvian League. The only other one matching it was the Quickfeet Guild, but as their headquarters were on the eastern side of their conjoined territory, the meeting was taking place at the former party's home base. Its marble floors and gilded pillars were shimmering under the light of a dozen chandeliers holding hundreds of candles, filling the room with light as their meeting progressed deep into the night. The leaders, or in this case, Chairmen of the Goldlight and Quickfeet guilds, had gathered around a grand oak table, maps and ledgers spread across its glossy, waxed surface.

Chairman Alvor sat at the center of the table, flanked by guild masters from both factions, his colleagues, and fellow merchants. His usually calm demeanor was tinged with urgency, as he already explained the opportunity before them a hundred times. Still, he was ready to do it once again.

“We must act quickly,” He began, his voice almost sounding demanding. “The Sovereign of Avalon has extended an unprecedented opportunity! If we wait, others will outpace us, and we’ll lose the advantages of his machines and technology.”

One of Quickfeet's chairmen, a wiry woman named Lissa Vrynn, leaned forward, her sharp green eyes scanning the room.

“You’re certain of this? His tools are impressive, yes, but aren’t we already working on reverse engineering the tractors you brought back? Do we need more from him?”

Of course, Alvor shot her a pointed look as she was getting on his nerves, wanting to preserve as much profit for herself as possible. This was not the time to be stingy.

“The tractors are just the beginning. His trains, his factories, his vision… Lissa, it’s not just about the machines; it’s about the infrastructure and the philosophy behind them. He’s not hoarding knowledge—he’s offering it for mutual benefit. If we align ourselves with him now, we position the New League to thrive in ways we’ve never imagined!”

A murmur rippled through the room, some nodding in agreement while others exchanged skeptical glances. Chairman Roven of the Goldlight Guild raised a hand, joining in the conversation and silencing the others.

“We’ll need to ensure our caravans are prepared. If we’re building this... railroad to Avalon, it won’t just be steel and timber we need. We’ll need to trade goods that appeal to them, right? What does Avalon value, in your opinion, Chairman Alvor? I know they are willing to accept the oil, but we all realize that is because of cordiality.”

“Everything.” Alvor chuckled dryly, then grew serious. “But prioritize what their Sovereign mentioned. Rarer metals. And anything unique—spices, textiles, things from distant places that are not native to Ishillia. And... I think he accepts oil not just because he wants to be friendly. I think he has plans with it.”

Lissa tapped the table, her thin lips pursed after listening.

“Everyone has plans with it when first seeing it. Let him have it; it is worthless, but he will realize it sooner or later. Until then, we can come out of this cheaply! Don't forget that this railroad is a massive undertaking. We’ll need to start buying up the land along the route. Farmers won’t give it up without a fight. We can't come out of this in the negative!”

“Pay them fairly,” Alvor insisted. “This project will benefit the entire region, but we can’t risk rebellion or bad blood that is already tainting our League. Quickfeet caravans will handle negotiations and logistics. Goldlight can oversee the rail construction itself. This partnership will define the future of our New League.”

“What of the risk?” Roven asked, his tone wary. “If Avalon’s Sovereign has these... monsters—those metal colossi you described—he clearly has military strength far beyond ours. What happens if he decides he doesn’t need us anymore?” Alvor’s and many of the others' expressions darkened briefly, hearing the most critical question finally being asked.

“That’s precisely why we need this partnership. Sovereign Leon isn’t a warmonger like Ishillia, but he values loyalty and practicality. I am sure of my assessment. If we integrate ourselves into his vision, we become indispensable. And remember, he’s already shown he doesn’t guard his tools jealously. His logic is simple: a stronger League means a stronger Avalon. We are neighbors, after all. We need to adopt the same perspective.”

Even though Lissa was stingy, she wasn't blind, so she nodded slowly, her skepticism softening.

“I can see the logic. If we focus our caravans on gathering resources Avalon lacks and build the railroad swiftly, we gain the upper hand in this relationship. He may be ahead of us, but we won’t remain behind forever.”

A general consensus began to form, voices blending towards agreement. Alvor seized the moment, standing and spreading his hands over the League map, before someone asked another question, restarting their six-hour-long meeting.

“Then it’s decided. Goldlight will oversee the railway’s construction, and Quickfeet will handle the logistics and trade routes. Every caravan heading west will prioritize goods that Avalon values. We’ll establish depots along the planned railway, so we’re ready when the line is complete and can move our cargo faster. This is our chance to elevate the New League, to bring prosperity unlike anything we’ve seen before.”

The room erupted in a chorus of approval while Lissa leaned back, smirking faintly.

“Well, Alvor, you’ve certainly brought us into a bold new chapter while you are being appointed to this Soverign's contact. Getting rich of him and of us, huh? Let’s just hope this Leon you are so buddy-buddy with that his generosity doesn’t come with strings attached that we haven’t seen yet. Hiding behind honeyed words.”

Alvor’s smile was faint but confident, ignoring her accusations.

“If there are strings, Chairman Lissa, we’ll make sure they’re tied to our advantage.”

With that, the meeting concluded, and the guilds began preparing for the monumental task ahead. The League was about to change anyway, so their New League tethered itself to Avalon’s innovations in a partnership to survive the storm rocking Atuvia. At least, Avalon promised wealth and transformation—for better or worse.

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