Chapter 73 (1 of 2) The Age of Locomotives. (Patreon)

A dark-haired figure was lying sideways on a couch. His eyes were closed, his chin was propped up with his elbow on the armrest, and he was dressed in a black silk dressing gown and silk pants. A slight frown was on his face.

The Demon Emperor spoke. “Dion. I can’t sleep.”

[Why are you mentioning this to me? I’ve done nothing. Even if I had done something to you, then you would’ve known, because that’s the relationship between you and me.]

“I’m not referring to that.” The Demon Emperor rubbed his eyes. “Dion, there has never been a time when I could not sleep, for any reason. What has changed?”

[In my opinion, if you’re staying awake for longer, that’s a good thing. You’re a higher race, you don’t truly need to sleep.]

The demon on the couch only gazed at the notification without expression. “Dion.”

[Fine, I’ll check for you. Why is it that you only speak up first when you have something to ask me? Sit there and don’t do anything, not that you would ever want to purposely move from your couch if you could help it.]

The Demon Emperor didn’t reply as the scan went through him. The voice in his head fell silent, making him cross his arms and lean back slightly. “What is it?”

[You’re normally asleep at this time] the voice abruptly stated.

“…yes,” the Demon Emperor replied slowly.

[And in your Archduke clone too.]

“…Indeed.”

The voice burst out laughing. [I only said it in jest but I didn’t expect it would have this much of an impact! Oh, this is hilarious. I guess getting kicked out of your habits of the last hundreds of thousands of years messed you up big time. Sorry, this isn’t going to stop happening for a while.]

The Demon Emperor frowned. “What’s causing my inability to sleep?”

[Nope, not telling you. I don’t want to be complicit in a… well, it’s a secret] the echoey voice said blithely.

The demon on the couch scowled and sat up. “Dion.”

[Nononono no, don’t be so fixed on this. How about you use your newfound insomnia to get a head start on the backlog of work you have piled up? Now there’s a smart idea.]

“Dion!”

The laughter of the unusual voice was the only reply to the Demon Emperor’s shout of anger.

__________________________________________________________________________

The room was tense. All the members of the Commission were gathered in the meeting hall, feeling nervous as the silver-haired man who was in charge of them read the plans for the debut they had spent many sleepless nights coming up with. Their nervousness, however, was the fact that the man with half-moon glasses was staying completely silent and expressionless as he read their proposals.

Eventually, he spoke up, “Is this everything?”

The representatives for each of the Counties exchanged glances. Vincent narrowed his eyes. “I asked if this was everything.”

“…yes, sir,” one of them finally replied.

Vincent took one last look at the documents and threw them onto the ground as he walked off. “Burn the lot and start again.”

Their eyes all widened and they followed after him. “But sir, this is the result of a major collaboration between the four Counties! If we just throw this all away, the subordinates will lose motivation and-”

“’The’ subordinates?” Vincent whirled around to glare at them. “Don’t you mean your subordinates?! You are supposed to be the leaders of the Commission’s employees, and what you have demonstrated here today is that you cannot lead.” He gestured to the papers on the ground with a look of disgust. “Do you even understand how high the labour cost to supply every single invitee with a personal servant would be? Are you volunteering yourselves for that position too?”

The representatives who were relatives of the Counties themselves and in charge of entire floors of employees, coughed into their fists, looking away.

“And the budget estimations for the debut…” Vincent’s expression grew colder. “It is utterly detestable that you think because this is being financed with the Founder’s vault that a budget that high is acceptable. You all seem to be forgetting that a portion of the Founder’s vault is to be invested in the Commission’s Counties themselves.” He jabbed a finger at them. “You will be damaging the Counties’ future prospects by wasting money now. In fact…”

Vincent gestured to the entire hall with a hand. “For every crown I find estimated into the final budget that I determine to be wasteful, will be taken out of all the managers’ monthly wages!” he shouted.

Gasps and hastily exchanged whispers floated amongst the lower ranked subordinates, but the managers of the floors went deathly pale. A few laughs echoed from the back of the hall but then went silent as Vincent turned to face them.

“And don’t think I haven’t been aware of the highly unacceptable reports of employees meeting with Citadel-allied nobility every week!” he yelled. “Especially those who visit the fortieth floor. All visitations of Citadel forces are banned during the first week of every month, or at any time the Prophetess visits!”

The whispers from the noble staff in the room disappeared, while the commoners kept talking amongst themselves. That eventually stopped too when they noticed Vincent had gone silent and was staring at them all.”

“Why have none of you moved yet?” he hissed. “You have a whole debut to replan! You there!” He pointed at someone standing off to the side, who flinched. “I said to burn the proposals. Go find a fireplace and do that!”

The man stiffened and warily shifted his gaze to the head managers behind Vincent, who were gesturing at him not to do it. Vincent noticed and turned on them.

“You want to go against my orders?” he barked. “Fine. I order all records of the debut proposals to be destroyed and redone from scratch. From the bottom up.”

Vincent’s expression looked utterly stormy. “And anyone who doesn’t move in the next thirty seconds is getting fired.”

Time seemed to stop for a second until all at one, they all got up and ran for the doors. The man Vincent had pointed to earlier dived for the ground to gather all the documents and run off to find the nearest lit fireplace.

Vincent walked out of the room while yelling instructions to random people who crossed his path. Anyone who didn’t know what to do gave him a wide north so they wouldn’t end up as the next target of his anger.

…

Three people were standing on a balcony overlooking the room. One of them was a dark-haired woman who had her hand on her chin, watching everything that happened with an intense look on her face, as if this was the most interesting spectacle she had seen in her entire life.

Lucille turned to Jacques and Caius. “Has he ever acted like this before?”

“What, who? Vincent?” Jacques raised an eyebrow. “All the time when we were kids. Whenever we had to work together for something related to Evisenhardt, we’d all draw lots and whoever got the short stick would be stuck with him.” The blond ponytailed main shuddered. “He’s the worst kind of perfectionist, the one who is ready to redo everything if he sees even the slightest mistake.”

“Have you never seen him like this?” Caius asked curiously.

“No, I haven’t,” she replied with interest. “Not once have I seen him lose his temper like this.”

Jacques rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, we all joked that everyone within the County would be fired if Vincent ever inherited it.”

It seems the mystery of why Vincent earned the title of ‘Dictator’ has been resolved.

“If you’ve never seen him like this then I suppose it’s just a testament to your good working ability,” Caius said with a smile.

“Hmm…” She tapped on her chin and then turned to walk down the nearest stairs. “I’d like to discuss Vincent’s past behaviour some more, but unfortunately, I need to catch up with him.”

“If you make him even more angry, then keep the collateral damage out of my way,” Jacques warned.

Caius shook his head but Lucy didn’t respond. She descended the stairs with light steps and followed after her aide.

“Vincent!” she called out.

The silver-haired man stopped and turned around to face her with a scowl. “If this is about an update for the debut, then I’ll have to inform you that there has been a major change in plans and the final proposal has been delayed.”

“Oh no, it’s not about that at all,” Lucy said with a smile.

“Good, because I don’t want to have to redo my share of the work too,” he retorted sharply. He turned away and kept storming off while she walked beside him. “Spending a full quarter of the budget you allocated me for the five years on this debut? It’s going to last five days total! I’ll have to ask for donations from the nobility attending if we were to finance everything like that.”

“I see,” Lucy mused. “But I wanted to-”

“I want to go ahead and do a purge of all employees who aren’t committed to doing actual work, but with the debut coming up we need all the staff we can get,” Vincent continued Cheryl, as if he hadn’t heard her response. “That internal affairs division you’re close to finalising will be very helpful in the coming years, I’m sure.”

“Yes, but-”

“I know you said they would be a force that responds to only your direct orders, but if you could lend them to me I’ll be sure to root out the useless among us in this building!” he continued with anger in his voice. “The Commission is long overdue a restructuring of its operations and standards. I want to set them straight right away!”

Lucy stopped walking and Vincent didn’t even realise it as he continued to voice his complaints and passionate concerns about everything the Commission was doing wrong. She glanced at the closest door, and when she became certain that Vincent wasn’t paying attention, she made a swift exit.

“And I- Lucille?” The silver-haired aide glanced at his side to see she was missing and turned around. “Where did you-”

A stout balding man entered the hallway and Vincent became distracted when he saw the familiar face. “Oh yes, and I have a complaint to share with you, Gordon Merst.”

Lucy glanced around the doorway edge to make sure he had gone and shook her head.

I just wanted to tell him that I was leaving the Headquarters to meet with the Alichanteu craftsmen clans, but with his strange mood it would be best for me to just leave now.

I wonder how long he’ll carry on like this for?

…

Expertly using her perception field to avoid the nobles who wanted to meet with her after hearing she had arrived at the craftsmen district, Lucille arrived in front of one of the largest buildings in the craftsmen zone. It was one of the few permanent buildings in the place and was roughly five stories tall. It had two large metal doors on the front, looking a lot like a hangar of some kind. It was the building that had originally been used to house the components of the ‘Gold Dome’ of the plane before it was put into operation with its large arrays engraved onto district-sized metal plates.

She didn’t stop to observe it any longer and instead walked up the stairs on the outside of the building so she could take a side entrance. She knew she would enter the second story of the building and…

…she wanted to leave an impression. Unlike the rest of the Empire, she couldn’t have the crafters underestimating her ability. So she needed to prove that she was more than the eighteen-year-old girl she appeared to be.

With her signature violet suit jacket on and her cane in hand, she unlocked the side door with the keys she had obtained from the district gatekeeper and entered. The walls of the building laid bare the mana lines and other primitive forms of power sources that the Empire used, allowing her to see the insulation and structural supports within.

She entered the main part of the second story through another door and found herself on top of a balcony that allowed her to see straight to the bottom floor. A small crowd was gathered below.

Lucille hummed and looked around for something specific. She smiled when she saw it and walked over to the banister bordering the balcony on the next wall of the room. Dark purple violet curtains covered it and descended to the ground below, hiding part of the room from the sight of the crowd.

She paused when two voices rang out among the crowd.

“-a movin’ fortress, I’m sure!” the gruff voice announced. The figure it responded to was short, with burly arms and a plaited dark brown beard. A runic tattoo of some kind was branded on the left side of his face.

The blond-haired young man sighed. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you sir. I’ve never seen a moving fortress to compare.”

The dwarf clicked his tongue and placed his hands on his hips. “Is this girl going to show up? I only came here because it was the orders of Vincent Evisenhardt, but I detest the idea of dealing with a delusional young un’s whims just because she was fooled by someone with stolen goods.”

“What a fascinating conversation you seem to be having down there!” Lucille called to them. “But please, could I know who this young girl is? I don’t recall permitting anyone else to enter this building.”

The argument fell silent as all the crafters below, consisting of the crafters she had employed after the competition and the Alichanteu clans, looked up and gazed silently at her.

Lucy tilted her head. “My apologies, did I surprise you all?”

“…you must be Count Goldcroft,” the dwarf in the lead said.

Lucille grinned and propped her chin up as she leaned against the banister. “Indeed. My name is Lucille Adrienne Goldcroft. I look forward to working with all you many crafters of great capability and renown.” She tilted her head again. “But I’m still curious about this ‘young girl’ you spoke about.”

The dwarf gained a strange expression as he continued to gaze at her. The other crafters, including a few other dwarves, exchanged looks.

Lucy blinked and clasped her gloved hands together. “Ah, were you perhaps referring to me?” She let out a tut and shook her head. “How am I supposed to know that, when you never called me by my titles of ‘Commission Head’ or ‘Count’?” She smirked and her eyes narrowed as she sat sideways on the banister, holding her cane with a hand placed on either end. “It’s a little demeaning to refer to the leader of the largest merchant organisation in the Tower as a mere ‘young girl’, don’t you think?”

The leading dwarf stayed silent for a while longer, but then he bowed to her with a sigh. “Please accept my apologies, Count Goldcroft. I will make sure to be stricter with my words in the future.” He straightened up and narrowed his eyes at her. ‘But Count Goldcroft, us dwarves a rough folk. My clan might be considered nobles in the Empire, but the ways of your people don’t sit well with us for too long.”

“There is a time and place for informality, yes, but I’d prefer it not to be when we have yet to complete our introductions.” She swung two legs over the banister to sit on it. “I still have yet to learn your name, sir.”

The brown-haired dwarf bowed. “Clanlord Dorelmaeg Krovehearth, milady. All dwarven clans of the Alichanteu are my vassals.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Clanlord Krovehearth,” Lucy said with a smile. She spread her arms, her cane held in one hand. “And a pleasure to meet all of you as well. Some of you will have already seen me at the competition last year, but for all those who haven’t, I am the Commission Head and the one directly in charge of overseeing the construction of the ‘train’ and… well, I’ll save the other details for later.”

Lucille crossed one leg over the other and rested her hands on her knees with a smirk on her face. “Now, I believe the discussion you were having earlier, Clanlord Krovehearth, between yourself and Sir Sameul O’Dearvy was related to the similarities between the plans I showed you and the ‘moving fortresses’ owned by Rocht’guardes?”

“…yes.” Krovehearth crossed his arms with a frown on his face. It was obvious he was slightly less confident about his statement of the blueprints being stolen than he was before she turned up. “The design of this ‘train’ vehicle is far too similar to the fortresses of our empire. As a resident of Rocht’guardes, my clan and my vassals won’t help you with making this, even if you try to force us.” His expression became solemn. “And I formally request for you to hand over the person responsible for the leak so he can be dealt with by the Elder Council.”

“Person? Ah… well, I’ll have to sorely disappoint you then.” Lucy’s smirk grew wider. “Perhaps it could be considered my fault for not revealing more of the train’s internal components, but I didn’t want anything to slip out, you see. But the ‘train’ doesn’t use any dwarven technology.”

“Any?” The dwarves all exchanged sceptical looks.

With a grin, Lucille got back onto the balcony and then placed a foot on the banister. “Please look carefully once I reveal what lies beneath these curtains, because it took a great deal of effort to complete this,” she announced proudly. “I’ll show you what a ‘train’ really is.”

With one swift movement, she hooked the end of her cane under the dark purple velvet curtain and swept it off. It fell to the ground to reveal an enormous magical blueprint, enchanted to show an engine with pistons and wheels rolling and multi-coloured steam escaping from valves. All the crafters stepped forward to look up at the designs, their eyes growing wider as they realised how it worked.

“This is what I have termed a ‘locomotive’,” Lucy began, taking her foot down to walk over to the next curtain. “It’s a mechanical engine capable of hauling large transport containers behind it, on routes predetermined by metal guide rails, or ‘train tracks’. And…”

She hooked her cane underneath the next curtain and walked along the balcony, taking down all the curtains that followed after the wall-sized blueprint of the locomotive to reveal many blueprints of different models of carriages that hooked up to the locomotive to form the entire train. “These blueprints are life-sized and to-scale renditions of what I hope for you to aid me in creating.”

“…to scale?” Krovehearth walked forward and squinted at the figures and data scrawled onto the blueprint as labels for the components. “It’s true that I don’t recognise this technology, and there aren’t any dwarven runes…”

Lucy crossed her arms and leaned against the guard rail again. “If you ask Mr. O’Dearvy, I’m sure he could explain the concepts of this construct.”

“O’Dearvy…” The brown-haired dwarf recognised the name and turned to the blonde-haired young man looking at the main engine of the locomotive with wide eyes. “Boy?”

“I- uh, well, that might be giving me too much credit, Commission Head,” Sameul replied sheepishly. He rubbed his neck. “But… this seems a lot like the device I created for the competition. Not that I had such a large-scale construction in mind, but…” He pointed to the engine. “This builds upon the concepts of my device, right? About turning mechanical energy into mana through steam?”

Lucy smirked and leapt over the banister using one hand. She landed on the ground floor and pointed at him with the cane. “Correct. And a form of this locomotive can be built that runs on only coal and steam.” She turned to face the hanging blueprints that wrapped around the centre of the ground floor, like some famous art exhibit. “But there is no value in avoiding the usage of mana in this situation.” Lucille glanced at Dorelmaeg Krovehearth. “Clanlord Krovehearth, are you satisfied that this was not designed using stolen Rocht’guardes technology?”

“Hmm…” The dwarf, who just barely came up to her shoulders in height, turned around to see the entire design of the train, with its carriages in full view. “This is truly to scale?”

“Indeed,” Lucy said. “And another factor you should consider is that this train is to be used above ground as well as below it. In fact, it will only be below ground in populated areas such as cities and Gilded Seat to conserve space. This train will also only have strong shielding arrays and minimal weapons, to only fend off monsters if they become too curious.” She shrugged. “This train isn’t a weapon like the moving fortresses, which are built to defend against monsters when you dwarves go on your mining expeditions. This is supposed to be a commercialised and hopefully common method of transport for the everyday civilian.”

Krovehearth stepped back to take it all in. He turned around to discuss the train with his fellow dwarves, who were all gesturing wildly to the train with excitement in their voices as they spoke of the merits of the construction.

Lucille remained standing off to the side with a calm smile on her lips, both her gloved hands resting on the end of her cane. Sameul walked up to her and stood beside her.

“I apologise if I’m being too bold, but…” He gave her an intense look. “I’m very, very curious to know who the inventor of this ‘train’ is. Especially their way of using mechanical and magical forces to create a feasible and inexpensive transport method.” He placed his hands on his hips and gazed up at the animated diagram. “I read a few of the notes that listed what metals this could be made of, and… it blows my mind to think even mundane metals could be used to build this.” Sameul shook his head. “The Coalition’s puppets and engines still need magical materials to work well, but this…”

“The inventor? Well, all I can say is that you’ve met them,” Lucy remarked wryly.

“Met them? Who… wait.” Sameul hesitated. “Don’t tell me it’s him? Your personal crafter?”

Lucy gave him a deadpan look that made him scratch his head. “No, it is not Sedric, if that’s what you’re asking,” she stated dully.

“Huh… then who…?” Sameul asked, confused.

She smirked and gave him a wave as she walked forward, able to tell that the dwarves were finishing up their discussion. “All I’ll say is that you’ve met them. I’ll leave it at that.”

Dorelmaeg Krovehearth turned around as she approached. She leaned on her cane in a relaxed manner as she smiled at him. “So, your conclusion?”

“Alright, Count. We’ll help you with this ‘train’,” Krovehearth stated shortly. He held out a hand with a few silver rings on it for her to shake. “This seems interesting, but no bringing dwarven tech into this, alright?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied as she shook her head. Her eyes narrowed as she smirked. “However, Clanlord Krovehearth, there is another more private discussion I wish to have with you. Something to do with a certain form of air transport?”

His expression grew serious. “…I see.” He turned around to face his clansmen and vassals. “The Krovehearth Clan will take on this job, fellows! It’s interesting and unique, and we all know that we dwarves are suckers for new magitech. Go study those blueprints so when I can come back, we can start crafting the first prototype as soon as possible!”

They let out cheers of affirmation and walked forward to study the blueprints, chatting with the other crafters as well, who were very curious to discuss magitech with the dwarves, known for their exquisite crafting capabilities and metallurgy.

Krovehearth turned back to Lucy. “Is there a private room for us to chat?”

“Of course.” She nodded and gestured to the nearest stairs. “This way please, Clanlord Krovehearth.”

…

The room they chose to meet in wasn’t in any way fancy or decorated. The walls were still as bare as ever, and the window that showed a view of the craftsmen’s district outside was shielded by plain wooden shutters. A table was resting on its side inside the room and she walked forward to lift it up. Then she leaned against it, resting her cane on the table.

“I’ll cut to the chase as I know dwarves don’t like beating around the bush,” she began seriously. “I want to know the progress on the airships and involve myself in their development if possible.”

“As I expected… what does the Commission Head want to do with the airships?” he asked, brown eyes focused intently on her.

“Nothing right now,” she replied calmly. “But I believe I can hasten the development of them… both using the resources of the Founder’s vault and by my own knowledge.”

“Knowledge…” He narrowed his eyes at her. “That reminds me. You told us that we’d meet with the inventor of this ‘train’ today. Where are they?”

She smirked and propped her chin up with her elbow on the table. “Where do you think?”

He frowned at her and then glanced at the door to the room. “Where does the concept of this ‘train’ come from?”

“My home world,” Lucy stated with a smile. “I don’t claim for it to be an original concept. I wouldn’t dare to do that when the moving fortresses exist, anyway. But this form of train is now unused and outdated in my home world. We prefer to use a form of flight transport instead.”

The word ‘flight’ refocused his attention on her. “Your home world has developed air transport vehicles?”

“Yes. Which is why I think I can contribute to the development of these airships.”

Krovehearth sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll… discuss this with the other clans working on the airships and see if they’ll let you onto the plane.”

Lucy nodded. “I don’t want to intrude too much on your workspace.” She pulled out her pocket watch and checked the time. “Now, while I’d love to discuss the technical aspects of the train with all of you crafters, I’m a rather busy person and we have an important visitor at the Commission this time of week. If you’ll excuse me, Clanlord Krovehearth, I must return to the Headquarters.”

He slowly nodded. “You’re an… interesting person, Count Goldcroft. It makes me wonder where a young girl like you learnt how to design something like that train.” He held out his hand. “Give Vincent Evisenhardt my regards when you return.”

“Will do. And also…” As she grabbed his hand to shake, she smirked and let him sense part of her soul presence. His eyes widened and he backpedalled as she waved goodbye to him with a bright smile. “Your first mistake was assuming I’m just a young girl, Clanlord Krovehearth. Until next time.”

With that, she left the room and returned to the side door that would lead her outside. She let out a sigh as she looked up.

So, what has Annaliese got up to while I’ve been gone? It’s something involving my bond, I can tell that much.