Ch.26 Water Pump and Water Tower (Patreon)

A few weeks later, the day had finally come. I looked at the water tower we had built with a slight smile. "Such a simple structure, with such remarkable benefits."

Imagine a large orange water cooler. The water inside shoots out of the nozzle when a person twists it, allowing them to fill a water bottle or cup. Gravity drives the water down with pressure, allowing that to happen.

Water towers work the same way. The massive tank on top of our tower, hovering 60 feet in the air, holds about 50,000 gallons of water, around 189,000 liters. Large pipes from the top take the water down into the main plumbing pipe, filling all the smaller pipes simultaneously.

It's worth repeating: water in pipes is always there. Always. It's just waiting, and then the water comes out when people turn a nozzle or faucet. That's all plumbing does.

Water pressure in the pipes pushes water out of curved faucets, filling toilets against gravity. The pressure comes from the water tower, which uses gravity from the water falling 25 to 100 feet to create constant pressure.

Imagine a water slide. When water flows down it with gravity, it speeds up, and when it hits a curve that goes up at the end like a rollercoaster, it still shoots water upward. It's like that.

Our massive water cooler would soon supply all the pipes for every building in Sundell, allowing it to grow to a hundred thousand people or more.

"How's the water pump coming, Carter?" I asked, waving to the man as I approached a concrete building to the side of the water pump.

“It’s workin’,” Carter replied, stressed out. “I think you’ll say it’s grossly inefficient and needs immediate improvement, but it’s workin’.”

I noted that I also needed to start relying on other people. It wasn’t just the workload I was putting on Carter’s shoulders but also the responsibility of high-level innovations. With something like a water pump, where broken pipes could ruin infrastructure and people’s furniture and belongings, the stress was intense.

However, that seriousness was why I relied upon Carter so much. It was a lose-lose situation. Still, I needed a solution.

While pondering, I walked to the nearby utility building with Carter. A coal fire raged inside as men shoveled coal into a boiler. The steam pressure caused the steam engine to chug like a train, feeding a large pipe that led to the water tower and went up into the tank.

"Don’t stress. So as the pipes don’t break, there's nothing you can do until we get a better substance than leather," I said. "It's amazing it’s working as well as it is."

It was strange that we could get water 60 feet into the air with nothing but pipes with plates inside, a steam engine, and some leather. However, that’s exactly what we did.

To pull it off, we created a piston-driven pumping mechanism. When steam pressure pushes a piston, it creates pressure like a bike pump, where the piston presses the plunger, pushing water up with pressure instead of putting air into a tire.

When the water goes up with the piston, it also comes down. To prevent water from coming down again, we created what’s known as a valve which only allows a liquid to flow one way.

Imagine you're going down a water slide with a leather flap on the end of it that prevents water from getting into the slide. When you crash into it, you push it open, but once you exit, the water on the outside pushes it shut again. That's what a valve is.

The valve is the secret behind a water pump. When the piston automatically pushes down our analogous “bike pump plunger,” it sends water up the pipe, pushing open the leather flaps. Then, the pressure from lifting the plunger sends the water back down. However, our leather pieces prevent the water from going down again at every stage.

With enough valves and pressure, you can bring water to great heights.

It's fascinating. Just ask Thea.

“AhhHhhhehhhhhh,” Thea yawned, trying to look alert as she listened to us discussing the water mechanism. She loved representing me with a bright smile and attentiveness, but her eyes were milky and bloodshot, and she nodded periodically to pretend like she was listening.

It was just a reminder that most people don’t like details—they just like the satisfying results.

Carter gave her an apologetic smile. “Well, it’s workin’, and I’m confident it’ll work for a little while. We can always build a new one.”

Unlike plumbing systems, we didn’t need a pump; we could just have a mage materialize water into the tank. However, the pipe leading down from the water tower can’t break, or it’ll cause a disaster. Therefore, we were meticulous about crafting that pipe and were more experimental with the water pump.

Luckily, our valves worked, so we had a working water pump.

I finished my conversation with Carter and walked to the Sundell Plaza, in the economic district on the way into town, where I gave an awkward speech that spread the following message:

We're on the precipice of civilization! Where you have clean water to eat and cook with whenever! Water for bathing on demand! It will be awesome!

But we're not there yet. So don't get your hopes up because we're looking at hardship this winter. Sorry in advance.

Wooooooooooo! Civilization!

"Was it best to end it on such a low note?" Lyssa asked, standing with me on a large platform overlooking the grand unveiling of the water tower. "If there's hardship, it's best to keep positive."

I looked at her with a serious expression. "If things are bleak, your message is something like, 'You'll die today, but be immortalized in history!'" I dramatized, using a war commander’s voice. "And if something is going to be amazing with hiccups, then you say something like, 'There are petty prices to pay for progress! We will master this and make history!'"

Her eyes glazed over. "Then why didn't you do those things?"

“Because we’re guaranteed failure,” I frowned. “That’s why no one is living in these buildings yet.” I gave Carter the signal, and he released the pump, instantly creating a stir from Sundell Plaza’s water fountain skyrocketed to the sky, spurring cheers, whistles, and excitement. However, not three minutes later:

PSssssst!

Yelling broke out from one of the buildings, signaling to shut things down because an entire plumbing system had exploded, flooding a building with water.

I sighed and looked at Lyssa. “This winter is going to suck. These pipes are going to freeze and explode. Our insulation systems aren’t good enough, yet.” With those words, I walked away, already hating my life.

***

One Month Later.

It was the outset of winter when we finally finished our working plumbing system. While people had reservations about the system that was soaking their food and clothing, spreading mildew and rot, the moment that they enjoyed clean water, their enthusiasm skyrocketed.

Hot showers would have to wait, as personal water heaters were out of the question. However, we opened public bathhouses where people could take hot showers, something that immediately made all grumbling disappear.

People were shocked by how clean the water was, how easy it was to cook, and the convenience of controlling the water flow with faucets. All of these things were revolutionary.

Naturally, things broke often, dirty water shot into people's houses, and house walls got soaked, so I was constantly giving speeches that always said:

What?! You want to be like the savages in Goldenspire who collect water for everything?! I'd rather deal with some petty water damage than stoop to the lows of our backwater neighbors.

Naturally, they lost the anger and replaced it with pleas to fix it instead of getting rid of it. Moreover, with every speech, people hated Goldenspire more and more.

War is easy when people hate the enemy ahead of time, and oh, did I make them hate them.

Riley worked around the clock to create propaganda posters that depicted a caricature of Goldenspire with its symbol and someone offering a human baby as a sacrifice, then wheat-pasted them to walls like guerrilla art.

I spread the truth of Priest Aelius' evil deeds through the merchant network. I obtained genuine facts through my spy network—then I twisted the narrative to make it as evil as possible.

Classic politics.

He was doing the same, making things more precarious for me, so I had no problem saying that he had a foot fetish and other subtle things to reinforce more negative “truths” I twisted about him. It was working. It was always satisfying for my spies to return my rumors as truth.

This was a dark game where every second was permanently damaging my reputation with other nations, creating tension, suspicion, and hesitance to trade with me, so I had a team dispelling rumors around the clock. It was harmful.

However, my tactics had a direct, detrimental impact on Goldenspire.

With every new load of pipes, pots, nails, screws, hinges, chains, bells, pins, belts, candle holders, buckets, ladders, chisels, hammers, and every other type of metalwork, I gave merchants an updated list of merchants I've banned and a new reason I created the ban.

It was catastrophic for Goldenspire.

Out of nowhere, thousands of steel items started flowing out of the Everwood Kingdom. They were of far higher quality than other blacksmiths made, including the Dwarves at Dragon's Peak.

Most of all—it was cheaper! So the metal was stronger, more durable, and half the price! Naturally, every kingdom started buying it in bulk, feeding their militaries, building city systems, and the like.

As for Goldenspire, they could only buy steel from the Dwarves, and King Thrain was happily wringing Priest Aelius dry.

If that wasn't enough, my education posters proliferated through Novena, teaching people trades work and new irrigation techniques that exceeded Goldenspire's techniques. I continued these learning materials, teaching people new materials en masse, and the kingdoms gladly accepted trade secrets! The one exception: Goldenspire.

Naturally, Goldenspire acquired all the info posters, but that wasn’t the point. Between the steel and information networks, no kingdom wanted to get banned by sharing with Goldenspire, so it made their relationships with them very awkward. It was subtly damaging.

I wish I could see that foolish priest's face when he realized how badly he fucked up.

----

Council of Kings.

At the onset of winter, Priest Aelius gathered every king or representative but King Everwood into a room. They sat around a large round table under a candle chandelier with complex expressions.

The atmosphere in the room was heavy as they looked at one another.

King Redfield sat on the far end, facing the door, with an unreadable expression as people whispered about him. Everyone wanted to know what he had to say, but no one asked.

"I think everyone knows why I've called you here today," Priest Aelius, a man with a golden wreath around his head and flowing white robes embellished with gold, asserted. "We're here to discuss Ryker Everwood."

"King Everwood," King Thrain corrected, causing the atmospheric pressure to multiply.

King Redfield remained unfazed by the correction and waved away people's scoffing and grumbling. "We're here to discuss, not bicker. Proceed."

Priest Aelius smiled thinly and proceeded. "As you're aware, King Everwood assaulted one of my dukes and threatened me with war. As the breadbasket of this continent, his actions threaten everyone here."

The kings and the Green Sea's representative queen murmured among themselves.

"Get on with it," King Thrain scoffed. "You remind us of your value every time we get together. But this time is different, isn't it?" he alleged, spreading whispers through the room.

"What do you imply?" Priest Aelius narrowed his eyes.

"Well, from what I understand, King Everwood harvested and threshed his wheat in a few days, and that's what started this, isn't it?" King Thrain taunted. "It sounds like King Everwood can be the breadbasket, and that's why you sent limp dick to threaten him with heresy."

"That's ridiculous!" Priest Aelius harrumphed. "Don't feed into the man's lies! We're here to talk about the facts, which is my assaulted duke, not feed speculation and rumors!"

"It's not speculation or rumor," King Emeric, a sturdy man with a black beard wearing a blue sailor's jacket, said. "He sold us ten tons of processed flour weeks before your harvest, and it was the best grade we've ever seen. That means he cut, dried, and milled at least ten tons worth it weeks before your harvest. That’s a fact."

Priest Aelius flushed red with rage, but a goliath with white hair and a braided beard prevented his pending outburst. "We're not here to talk about Priest Aelius' ineptitude or King Everwood's achievements," King Ironfall asserted. "We're here to talk about the security threat he poses. In a single year, he's stolen a territory, brazenly attacked a duke, and threatened war with Valeria and Goldenspire."

His words hung over the room like a guillotine, reminding them of the gravity of the situation.

"I do not trust him not to attack the Green Sea for its resources," Queen Elara, an elf with flowing green robes, declared. "He seems reasonable, but he's a merchant, and merchants are natural enemies of natural resources."

Her blunt declaration sent a shockwave through the room, leaving no room for objection.

"What about you, King Thrain?" King Yorkik, a man with icy, sickly pale skin and crimson hair, asked. "He's mass-producing steel. Doesn't that bother you?"

King Thrain grinned and unscrewed a steel flask, gulping down some liquor before sharply exhaling. "That's what I thought, but that kid...." He tapped his head twice. "He gave me steel and said to me, King Thrain, I'm gonna get people addicted to steel, then you'll be working your ass off around the clock to make Dragon's Peak brand steel. Charge people more; that's what he said. Well, guess what? Even if I didn't have this priest's money, I'd still be rollin' in it."

Everyone’s eyes widened, and their murmuring ceased. King Thrain shrugged and took another drink. "That kid... he thinks different. But as you can see—different works."

King Emeric was silent, but he was clearly with King Thrain.

"King Veil?" Queen Elara asked the wyvern king of the north.

"Unconfirmed accounts state that King Everwood has befriended my daughter," King Veil said. "These reports also claim that King Redfield knew about this and didn't disclose it."

Everyone turned to King Redfield, who didn't respond. It was true: she made her identity known at King Everwood's banquet, and while most people hadn't lived long enough to know who she was, he did. It was part of the reason that he didn't attack: it was a serious diplomatic issue.

King Everwood originally asked Zenith to speak as a representative of the forest to paint King Redfield as an assassin with direct proof. However, he got far more than he expected.

"With that in mind, I'm not deciding on anything until it's clarified," King Veil announced.

So far, it was an even tie concerning King Everwood.

That left King Redfield of Valeria, King Elio of Sunset Shore, and King Yorick of Frosthold.

"I'll go last," King Yorick said. "Unlike everyone else, we import almost all of our food. Siding with anyone will kill countless people. Therefore, we'll only side with someone if we can guarantee victory."

Frosthold was a mining kingdom in the far north. It was a frozen land that would kill most people, let alone crops. Therefore, the only food available was from hunting and ice fishing, and it was far from enough.

"What type of alliance is this?" Priest Aelius hissed.

"We don't have an alliance with you, Priest Aelius," King Yorick said. "No one does. We have a non-aggression pact for practical matters."

The priest's face heated up in a rage, and then he turned to King Elio of Sunset Shore, a man with black hair who hid his face on the table, covering his ears. "Don't involve me," King Eilo groaned, nursing a hangover. "Play your games. I'm just here because I owe you a favor—consider it paid."

With those words, he fell limp on the table, leaving everyone's faces tense. Despite his rude behavior, Priest Elio turned to King Redfield with a sharp glance. "Well?"

King Redfield glanced at everyone and took time before speaking. "I suggest you refrain from attacking King Everwood."

A shockwave twisted through the room, catching King Elio's attention.

"W-What?!" Priest Aelius roared. "He stole territory from you!"

"I gave him that territory," King Redfield corrected.

"Is that so?" King Ironfall laughed. "It didn't look like you gave him anything. Most of us had dignitaries there."

King Redfield glanced at everyone and took a deep breath. "King Everwood is a dangerous individual. He understands things we do not; it's not just technology but money. Whatever he did with his cosmetics and coffee left people starving and ground our merchant networks to a halt. It's like society stopped moving, and it caused mass panic and riots. That's why I acted against him—and why I haven't acted against him since."

Imagine if people’s credit cards stopped working and there was no cash in their wallets: that’s what Ryker did to Valeria with his Coffee, Cosmetics, and Caffeine scheme. It was a dire situation, and King Redfield acted accordingly.

It was a simple yet brutally effective strategy that created a crisis. King Redfield acted rationally in response.

“Moreover, the weapon systems we observed are unknown, but I expect them to be as effective as everything he does,” King Redfield continued. “Therefore, I’m not confident in attacking him.”

"W-What are you saying?!" Priest Aelius stammered, seeing the grave expressions on the leaders’ faces. "Are you saying that you've submitted—"

A violent wave of pressure strangled him, cutting him off before he could finish.

“You’ve encountered the same problem, yes?” King Redfield asked chillingly. "We're here because he's threatening your economy, not through war, but with his technology. Even now, you're finding that his trade network banning you is putting you at a severe disadvantage."

"So what? You're just going to bend over and take it?" King Ironfall taunted.

"No, I'm going to marry Princess Rema to the man in two years," King Redfield replied. "Then you won't be laughing."

King Ironfall released a wave of bloodlust that sucked the oxygen from the room. However, a far more intense wave of pressure crashed through the room, causing him and King Redfield to gasp and stop their dispute.

An awkward silence followed the phenomenon, and everyone looked to King Yorick.

"If King Redfield and King Elio don’t get involved, I'm not," King Yorick decided, causing despair to cut through Priest Aelius and Queen Elara's hearts while King Ironfall snorted in anger.

"Money, money, money, trade," Priest Aelius cackled. "Well, since he's harmed my people and threatened my life with war, I'm branding him a heretic. So we'll see how well your trade goes when you lose the Solarans."

His words earned him numerous murderous glances. The other reason people didn't attack Goldenspire was that it housed Novena’s top religion. Therefore, attacking them was heresy.

King Redfield turned to him. "Don't expect our aid if you do that."

The blunt admission shocked the room, leaving it cold and barren.

"Are you threatening me?" Priest Aelius asked.

"No, I told you I wouldn't provide aid," King Redfield replied. "We're speaking of neutrality here. If you threaten our kingdom with economic sanctions for trading with King Everwood, people will be liable to take sides."

Kings Thrain, Emeric, and Veil all gave the man stern glances that warned him against declaring King Everwood a heretic. If the man did, it’d cut the steel and crop trade between their countries, harming everyone trading with him.

Seeing that he would make enemies for harming “his attacker,” Priest Aelius scoffed and stormed out of the room, slamming the sturdy wooden door shut and splintering it.

Following his exit, King Redfield stood and walked to the door. "I've known of King Everwood's extraordinary potential since he was a child. That's why I made him a suitor and sent him to a dangerous location where he could only make soap until it was time for the tournament."

Everyone turned to him at his admission.

"Look how that turned out," King Redfield chuckled, opening the door and causing it to fall off its hinges and crash to the floor.

King Elio grabbed his ears and groaned, leaving the room in shambles and without a way to speak privately.

Everyone else exchanged glances. Ryker’s very existence threatened Novena’s power balance, and kingdoms would soon have to start taking sides. Tomorrow, those in the room that were allies could be enemies. It was a tense situation.

----

Two months later.

I still hadn't been branded a heretic once winter rolled over, so Thea, Zenith, Lyssa, and I took another trip to Luminara.

Due to the wealth generated through shea, cocoa, and coffee, Chieftain Zora had expanded his territory, gaining five times as much land. While competitors successfully broke into the coffee market, cosmetics were hellish because they required a large supply chain, recipes for pigment shades, and a brand name people trusted. Therefore, those who did enter ended up making only a fraction of what Zenith's Cosmetics did.

As for chocolate, magic freeze-drying methods were inaccessible to most people, even if they knew about them. Magic was rare in this monopolized world, so having a process that required ice magic—such as creating powdered milk through distillation, freeze-drying, and sublimation—instantly eliminated most of the market.

Therefore, investors spent tens of thousands of gold on plantations and then promptly sold them for a fraction of the price once they went bankrupt. It was beautiful.

Chieftain Zora accepted me as the "chieftain" behind the scenes and made Luminara part of the Everwood Kingdom, officially establishing my territory as the Everwood Empire.

In exchange, I brought modern weaponry to Luminara, built a wall, and imported tradespeople to boost the economy. It would become a modern city within three years, and Chieftain Zora would be equally pleased.

Afterward, Thea, Zenith, Lyssa, and I continued our vacation for Thea's birthday, returning to Feyloria. This time, we equipped ourselves with face-molded glass and wax goggles and crafted snorkels to explore the area underwater.

We all decided that we hate snorkeling.

Maybe we would enjoy it more once we had access to rubber and plastic.

But probably not.

Thea’s a cat; I don’t like taking off my shirt; Zenith believes that anyone who sees her skin is blessed, and she doesn’t like blessing people; and Lyssa just wants to tan on the beach.

So yeah, we hated snorkeling.

At least we bonded over our shared disdain for it.

It was endearing.

Thea and I’s relationship didn’t progress during that time. She was very respectful of my hesitance toward a relationship, but there was something there, something invisible in the room during our work sessions in the parlor or during our nightly relaxation, that made things tense. It was like we were magnets trying to snap together, but I was holding us back. That draw got very intense during the vacation when there was more time to spend alone, and it hadn’t eased since.

We returned from our work vacation a month later, and, unsurprisingly, nothing significant had occurred in Sundell.

Kingdoms have never waged war during the winter, even with modern weaponry. If technology invalidated that principle, Napoleon and Hitler wouldn’t have been equally skull fucked by the Russian winter. But that’s another story.

Since there were no economic sanctions or declarations of war, the biggest problem was burst pipes from freezing. However, we just fixed them—that's all we could do. Later, we would create better insulators, heating and cooling systems, and improve pipes. However, in a world where it took three to six months to get coffee, chocolate, and cosmetics from Valencia to buyers in Novena, we couldn't easily obtain whatever materials we wanted, let alone scale their usage. So, for now, we did things the old-timey way—with unskilled labor and suffering.

Still, access to tap water made a massive difference in the winter, revolutionizing bathrooms, cooking, and increasing living standards, making everyone feel grateful for the new government.

It was a simple time where I spent most of my days with Thea, reading through thousands of notebooks filled with notes from experts and gaining a better understanding of this world.

Apart from healing, I learned about native trees that produce potassium hydroxide, minerals used as coagulants and flux, and magical purifiers. The world was fascinating, showing many overlaps with our own.

"Why are you grinning like that?" Thea asked, cuddled up against my shoulder, and looked at the notes.

"I'm starting to understand what magical plants are," I smiled, wrapping my arm around her so she could snuggle closer. We had been snuggling up since we returned, but it didn’t affect our work or communication. "They have quantifiable properties and use magic as an energy source."

In short, the mana crystal was like a battery that kept a persistent spell, and it was released once the mana crystal was transferred or crushed.

Thea blinked twice. "That sounds smart."

I smiled at her blunt way of expressing, "I don't get it, but it sounds nice... I think."

"So why is that something to be happy about?" she asked.

"Things don't just happen without a reason," I asserted. "Over a long enough timeline, I'll learn what magic is and how to manipulate it. However, for now, I can find things with these properties and use them like regular items. I'm just starting to see the patterns."

I showed her three notebooks containing the phrase 'Seal Stone.' "These three people are from different countries," I explained. "However, they use Seal Stone for the same purpose. If their claims are true, I believe I can find solutions to impossible problems using magic."

Just the thought was exhilarating to me.

Thea nodded and nuzzled closer, just satisfied I was happy and to be beside me.

***

Three months later.

With the arrival of spring, I collaborated with Carter to design a seed drill, and for the first time, I experienced a devastating defeat.

Using the lathe and milling press, we created uniform cutting blades for mechanical reapers, including standardized shafts, gears, and platforms that allowed for interchangeable parts and uniform threading, enabling us to assemble the pieces efficiently. The only problem was with the reel, platform, and conveying mechanisms. However, we could adjust and improve them because we knew when they didn't work!

The seed drill was different. We made the axles, rods, wheels, cams, and gears precisely using the lathe and milling press. Additionally, we created standardized threads to join the metal pieces and assembled everything. However, we had no idea if it would work!

Modern farmers use seed drills to sow seeds controlled and efficiently. As a farmer rolls it through a field, the seed drill uses colter blades to puncture the ground and a pre-loaded tube to deposit the seed. Then, a press wheel stamps the ground, pressing soil around the seeds to ensure soil-seed contact.

Compared to the mechanical reaper, it's a simple operation if Carter follows my instructions to the letter. However, we had to have faith that it would deposit the seeds! One mistake could leave a field barren. It was a nightmare.

It was so bad I considered selling the technology to Priest Aelius.

Yeah. It was bad.

However, we still used the drill portion to cut holes into the ground and removed the press wheels. As a result, the drill created uniform indents for seeds at the desired depth while our farmers followed closely behind, adding a seed and packing the soil by hand.

Victory.

This experience was a reminder that research and development departments spent years perfecting each product to ensure that it always worked, and that’s something simple schematics cannot improve.

The Goldenspire spies didn't fail to notice how absurdly fast we managed to finish our sowing, which only aggravated their frustration. Consequently, the troops they had moved to the city of Wheatland started building ramparts on the other side of the Solsa River, making a blatant declaration of an impending battle.

It was their right to do that—as was my right to station troops on the walls, staring down these people with ballistae ready, large glass tips filled with pure ethanol, and other ballistae dipped in coal tar and ready to be lit on fire. The combination was a massive Molotov cocktail, in addition to being a ballista arrow!

However, people in Goldenspire didn’t know they were there. We had hidden all the embrasures, the gaps in between the castle walls that made it look like a crown, with removable T-walls. Therefore, Goldenspire didn’t know that there were thousands of cannons and ballistae on the outer works staring them down, and I ensured the vetting process to get onto the outworks was brutal and thorough.

Not only that, our use of lathes and milling presses allowed us to make better, more reliable mortars and artillery shells.

I should be making dynamite since war is on the horizon, but it's a pain in the ass. Sure, it's easy to make, but it's twice as easy to explode. Nitroglycerin is extremely unstable and can explode just by sloshing around. Therefore, manufacturing it requires skilled scientists, semi-reliable equipment, and a death wish without modern machinery. So anyone I taught would likely die without ample training, and I didn't have time to train people, especially if they died and I had to do it again.

With that thought, I crashed onto my bed. "We're approaching war. I should find someone I can trust to hold the recipe for dynamite with their life."

Steel and concrete recipes would leak regardless, and lathes, milling presses, and steam engines were impossible to replicate, so I didn't have a problem showing people these things.

However, nitroglycerin? No. We'll only produce that in Sundell and Elderthorn. Period.

"That means modern information control systems, bunkers, facilities..." I sighed. The amount of work we'd have to do to create a "simple" compound would be extraordinary. However, modern explosives could cripple enemy morale so thoroughly that it was worth it.

Killing people doesn't win wars because people will replace those lost until guerrilla warfare wins over industrial armies. No, the only way to win a war is by getting your opponent to give up, and the best way to do that is to create extravagant and terrifying demonstrations that people don't even consider going up against you. That's what explosions do best.

"If big explosives can save lives, I guess it's worth it," I sighed, too tired to chuckle at the irony. "At this point, the line between paradoxes and psychosis is so blurred I don't even know if I'm right anymore."

I took a deep breath. "War is upon us. Kaley has already created lab equipment. So I suppose it's time to start playing with chemicals."

With those words, I fell asleep.

---

A man wearing a brown peasant's tunic and sporting a clean-shaven face walked into a marble-built audience chamber adorned with gold accents. In the center was a man with golden robes, a haggard face, tired, bloodshot eyes, and a twisted demeanor.

"You've called for me, Your Holiness?" he asked, taking a knee. While his voice was calm, the man's bloodlust and vexation were insuppressible, sending chills down the spines of everyone looking at him.

Priest Aelius stood. "Archwizard Rogan, the day has come when a true enemy that threatens Goldenspire has appeared."

"King Everwood?" Rogan asked politely, his voice dripping with deep sarcasm.

"Yes, Archwizard," Priest Aelius growled. "The Demon of Elderthorn, a man who tames wild beasts and creates unknown technology. He's a man whom King Redfield has expressed reluctance to fight."

Rogan looked up with interest. "Archwizard Redfield is reluctant to fight him? Why?"

Priest Aelius smiled thinly and explained King Everwood's unique magic and the mystery surrounding his technology, stating that the economic toll of battle outweighed the value of fighting. Rogan listened carefully, surprised and frowning, as he, too, had something to protect.

"That's why absolute obliteration is the only option, Archwizard Rogan," Priest Aelius concluded. "We'll supply troops to keep King Everwood busy while you cast the spell."

Rogan narrowed his eyes. "If I cast the spell, all your soldiers and mages will die."

"As I said, Archwizard Rogan," Priest Aelius said, locking eyes, "he's a menace that's threatening the entire world. Absolute obliteration is the only option."

The Archwizard scoffed and stood. "If I do this, you'll declare me a divine figure and never ask anything of me again."

"Consider it done," Priest Aelius said.

"Understood." Archwizard Rogan clicked his tongue in disgust, stood, and walked out of the door.