Steel and Mana

Chapter 282 – Blood of the Earth

The fleet of Atuvian merchants had been traveling with barely any stops in the past weeks, and they had finally reached Avalon under the golden glow of the setting sun before them. Their creaking wooden carts bore the heavy load of their cargo, hoping to make their very first exchange under the banners of the Quickfeet and Goldlight Guilds. At the helm of the leading cart with four horses sat Alvor, his face tired but resolute. Unlike the subordinates his superiors placed under him, creating one of the largest caravans the two guilds had ever produced, he carried himself with confidence. Many within his group had doubts if this would work and were afraid that barbarians would swoop down on them, rob them blind… But Alvor knew that thought would be dispelled at once when they set foot into Avalon. Yet even he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of apprehension. Not because of anybody attacking them, but because he didn’t know what to really expect in return.

The city they approached was unlike any other in the known world. He had seen glimpses of its secrets during his previous diplomatic mission, but the sheer scale of Avalon’s ambitions had only truly begun blooming in his mind after he left. The more he thought about it, the surer he was that Avalon was aiming to replace Ishillia. This fleet was a gamble—a lifeline for the Atuvian League’s survival. What many didn’t know yet, the Quickfeet and Goldlight guilds already saw the writings on the wall. The League will fall. It will splinter. So, the two decided to preserve their region and establish a new country the moment it happened. They were going to save what could be saved and rebuild from there.

“City in sight!” Someone along his carriage called, breaking Alvor out of his thoughts. He raised his head, his sharp eyes narrowing as the outline of Avalon's walls came into view in the distance, the massive mountains serving as its everpresent backdrop.

"Breathtaking... as always." He mumbled.

The first sign of something extraordinary hit his comrades when they were at the border crossing. The second was the paved road they had been traversing since entering Avalon’s borders. The entry point into the Frontier was made out of stone towers, walls, and strict-faced guards. They wrote down everyone’s names, their cargo, and the reason why they were coming to the Frontier. They were all given a rolled-up parchment with a seal and a stylized 'A' on it, which identified them and gave them precisely three months to stay. They were warned that if they didn’t leave by then, they would be fined and escorted out by soldiers. If they need more time, they can ask for an extension within Avalon itself.

When they finally crossed over, no bribes or random taxes were imposed on them, only what they had agreed on with Sovereign Leon before. This surprised him because he was used to slipping money under the table at borders, getting through faster and without needing to go through any hassle. He almost tried it, but seeing the armored figures, he quickly pushed down the idea. After leaving the crossing, their carriages could traverse on a seemingly newly built road that was level, straight, and considerably speeding up their traveling speed.

As they approached Avalon, he noticed preparations along the road. Traversing through the forests and hills, he counted four places where the land was flattened, and there were clear indications of materials being collected, including wood and stone. He didn’t need to ask or look for anyone to realize they were there. They had to be part of future plans to build something in those places. As for what? He could only guess. Guardhouses? Unlikely. The foundations’ shapes looked to lack any towers. His guess was that they were going to establish roadside inns. It was what sounded logical and profitable, especially if trading indeed picked up in volume.

“Chairman Alvor?” one of the Goldlight merchants asked, jolting Alvor out of his cascading thoughts, “We should reach the city in an hour or less.”

“Good. We will arrive before nighttime and four days earlier than expected. If we can keep this up, we will make our return ahead of schedule, and we can go for a second run before winter!”

“If they uphold their end of the bargain.”

“They will.” Alvor said calmly, sure of it. “We had been deceived by nobles and their speech of barbarians leading this place. Maybe even those nobles were deceived by Avalon, but not anymore. You will understand when you see it! Soon, there will be lines of merchants coming here to do business, and we must be the first. We must get the best deals for ourselves… for our survival!”

“…”

There was nothing to say to that, really. Time and experience would tell, and the merchants coming on this trip had enough understanding not to let their perceived ideas and ideals get in the way of a deal. They could smile and nod while thinking differently if it brought them closer to profit, the core tenet of their guilds.

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It was among their thoughts when a sharp whistle rang out from the distance, drawing everyone’s attention to it. The two dozen or so guards who rode with them looked around, their grip tightening on their weapons, expecting an ambush, but instead, they saw something different. A monster…?

Before laying their eyes upon it, they first heard it: a deep, rhythmic rumble that grew steadily louder. Then came the second whistle—it was even more piercing than the first one, making the caravan stop and everyone stand up, craning their necks. Alvor’s heart skipped a beat as he noticed the massive, gleaming engine appear from the southern horizon, not that far from them. Its steel body almost sparkled in the sunlight, and plumes of white steam hissed from its chimney. Behind it stretched a series of connected cars, longer than their caravan, no… not just longer, it was at least quadruple in length!

“What in The Goddess’s name is that?” one of the merchants whispered, clutching the edge of his cart as if to steady himself.

“A train…” Alvor murmured, though the word felt alien even on his tongue. He hadn’t seen it the last time, but he had heard of it. He half-believed the rumors that it could carry countless carts full of goods without effort… but now, he truly believed it. He was seeing it.

The train slowed as it approached its destination. It was a building they thought was just a warehouse, finally coming to a stop with a loud hiss. Workers swarmed the platform, unloading crates as if they weighed nothing. By the time their road took them close to the train station, half of their work was done. The merchants watched in stunned silence as the workers donned strange gloves, glowing in a magical, bluish hue to lift the heavy crates with ease, stacking them onto waiting carts, not even causing them to buckle under their weight.

“This... this is sorcery…?” one of the merchants stammered, his face pale.

“Yes…” Alvor nodded, his voice tinged with both fear and admiration. “It’s magic and…

“And?” Many asked, urging their horses to keep moving.

“Invention. Something we may be able to bring back home with us.”

The merchants followed Alvor as their road took them past the hissing engine, leading the group into Avalon. Arriving closer to the machine, their eyes darted from the train to the bustling platforms. They passed a group of Avalonian engineers in leather aprons and goggles, masks and tools in their hands. It was clear that they were hand-picked to inspect the train’s engine, looking for any issue that may hamper its operation.

One of them glanced up and gave the group a brief nod before returning to his work, detaching the unneeded carts as half of it would go onward towards a newly built railroad, heading somewhere they knew nothing about. Yet, they would never ask. If their Sovereign decided it would be a secret, it was not their place to question and put Avalon in danger.

“Do they have an army of blacksmiths hidden here?” another merchant asked, his voice shaking. He was half-joking, yet not.

“No smith could create this,” someone else answered, his tone grave. “This is beyond anything we’ve ever known.”

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“My Sovereign!” Paxon, my Minister of Industry, saluted me when he met me in my office.

“Is it about the merchants?” I asked because I was already notified of their arrival at sunset.

“Yes. We looked over their cargo, and our preliminary survey tells us that they brought a significant amount of copper, lead, quicksilver, and glass products.”

“Good.” I nodded, satisfied that they were so quick to act. It also showed how desperate they were.

“There is something else.”

“Hm? Don’t need to be cautious or to hold back. Go ahead.” I nodded my head, waiting for him to continue.

“They brought several barrels of strange oil.”

“Strange oil?” I asked, leaning forward, my eyes flashing. “What do you mean… strange?”

“It is not like the oils we press from plants or what we extract from the beast's intestines, for it flows thick and dark, My Sovereign. The Atuvians say it is the blood of the earth itself. I inspected it personally; to the touch, it is heavy, sticking to skin and cloth as if it were glue, and it smells… It has a sharp, acrid, and strange scent. It lingers in the air long after the source is gone. I don’t know if it is indeed blood or not; it could be. According to their words, it does not spoil as other oils do, nor does it nourish anything either. It is not for eating, soaking the land, or lighting a lamp. They tried it all, but they never found what use it could have besides pouring it onto their enemies in battle. When burned, it releases a fierce, sooty flame, hotter and wilder than fat, grease, or wax could ever yield, so they thought we could use it in our army. They want you to look at the sample they brought over. When I asked where they mine it, they said it seeps from the ground where the earth was wounded. Their legend says it started when the Gods raised the mountains. It has been pooling into black pits ever since. The alchemists on their side claim it is a gift for war, a fire that cannot be put out by water once unleashed. That is why they think it has some kind of magical properties and must be the work of the Gods.”

By then, I was barely listening… Hah! It was oil. Simple as that. As for being magical? Who knows, maybe. I don’t know how it was millions of years ago, but if these types of beasts also lived back then, maybe their magic was also within the oil itself. Okay… I need to play this cooly. I will be a bit evil this time around, so I can't let my excitement show. Let them think I buy it off them out of friendship. As for how to refine it? Ugh… that headache will be the job of future me. I have no idea how it was done…

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Later that evening, as the group of Atuvian merchants dined in one of Avalon's guest halls, built directly for foreign visitors, they reflected on the day’s events. The meal itself was an adventure—courses of fresh vegetables, tender meats, and unfamiliar spices that hinted at Avalon's access to different parts of the world, telling the Atuvians that maybe they were not the only ones coming to visit. It put them on edge, not wanting to lose out on the best deals. After they were done eating, Alvor raised his glass and addressed his subordinates. All of the leaders of their respective guilds’ subdivisions were looking at him, holding their own glasses.

“What we’ve seen today is both humbling and inspiring. The Frontier is more than a trade partner; it’s a gateway to a future we’ve only dreamed of. I have already told the rest of the chairmen at home about this, and that is why we are here. We are the best of our guilds, and we must do our job and do it well. If we’re wise, this alliance will not only rebuild the League in the future but elevate it to new heights with us at the helm.”

The merchants raised their glasses in turn, though their expressions remained a mix of wonder and unease. For Alvor, however, the path was clear. Avalon was a city of progress, and he intended to ensure that the League, their new League, would be part of its story.