As the last magnificent streak of rainbow light on the horizon vanished from the azure sky, as though wiped away by an invisible hand, more than half of the fifty-four enormous capacitor units in the underground energy hub were already giving off a steady, reassuring emerald glow.
But Boer, at the center of that energy storm, fell from the godlike state in which he had hovered in midair, his whole body blazing with incandescent light.
Like a drowning traveler who had exhausted every ounce of strength, his knees buckled, and he dropped heavily onto the cold charging platform.
His powerfully built upper body bent almost flat, his forehead pressed against the cold, thick metal door as he panted violently, each breath tugging at a body that felt hollowed out.
Fine particles of energy, like the dying embers of electrical arcs, still flickered and danced faintly across his skin, outlining his utterly exhausted form.
This first all-out "charging session" had lasted a full three hours.
Though his body was on the verge of collapse and his mind stung as though it were being torn apart, Boer's powerful will still sustained him.
He forced himself to steady his breathing and, by vibrating the magnetic field around his body, transmitted a clear thought, tinged with unmistakable hoarseness and fatigue, into the minds of everyone anxiously waiting aboveground:
"My first time... attempting energy output at this intensity. Quite a strain... fortunately, I have something to show for it. Now, I need... a little intermission."
The instant his words ended, as though to confirm his success, the surging current accumulated in the solution batteries, already connected and ready, rushed like a tamed torrent along the thick superconducting cables toward the machinery throughout the factory!
Buzzz!
The indicator lights on the main control console lit up one after another, like stars catching fire! The electric meter's needle swung sharply toward the upper end, giving off a clear hum; the switches in each workshop sounded a continuous series of "tick-tock" alerts indicating normal operation the instant the current passed through them! Ringing out abruptly after the silence, these sounds were like the most beautiful music!
"It worked! The power's connected!"
"They're lit! They're all lit!"
"God... we actually did it!"
After a brief, deathly silence, deafening cheers erupted in the aboveground observation area! Engineers embraced in excitement, young apprentices jumped for joy, and even the most rigid old craftsman could not resist pumping his fist, tears glistening in his eyes.
Hunter Winster let out a long breath, his fingers loosening slightly around the cane he had been gripping, while Copperhammer Augustine's face flushed bright red with excitement as he slapped the back of the assistant beside him and laughed aloud.
Yet amid this wave of jubilation that threatened to lift the roof, several Consortium nobles standing toward the back of the crowd exchanged utterly cold glances, though they forced matching smiles onto their faces.
The resentment and apprehension hidden deep in those eyes seemed capable of piercing the thick floor and stabbing straight into the figure underground whom they both feared and depended on immensely.
But whenever their gazes swept over the traces of the vanished rainbow light in the sky, or the craftsmen and commoners around them who worshipped Boer with such fervor, that trace of cold killing intent was swiftly submerged beneath deeper apprehension and practical considerations, finally disappearing beneath their false smiles.
Copperhammer and Hunter did not remain immersed in their joy for long. The two masters swiftly assembled the technical team, like two seasoned old captains directing their sailors to inspect every corner of a new ship.
They moved through the workshops that had just been brought to life by the energy, from the steel rolling mills beginning to roar to the wire-drawing equipment waiting quietly on standby. Hunter tirelessly demonstrated the operation of crucial valves himself and explained the meaning of instrument readings, while Copperhammer used his booming voice to emphasize safety regulations and the maintenance requirements of every gear.
They had the leaders of each section follow close behind with charcoal pencils and rolls of coarse paper, recording every point in detail, and required them to recite those points repeatedly and understand them.
Amid this bustling scene of fervent, hopeful activity, the strange phenomenon in the sky briefly gathered once again, rainbow light faintly emerging. This time, however, the Consortium nobles merely lowered their heads further, not even daring another glance. And when the phenomenon finally disappeared altogether, the busy people in the factory had long since lost the leisure to notice anything else. Their hearts and minds were wholly devoted to this steel behemoth that had just been given a soul.
When Boer next appeared before the two masters, he had changed into clean casual clothes, his wet white hair draped loosely over his shoulders. Though a trace of fatigue still lingered between his brows, his overall vitality seemed entirely renewed.
Copperhammer's eyes widened. He circled Boer twice and could not help clicking his tongue in admiration. "Well, I'll be! Boy, you went in to charge up, so how come you look like you've been to a beauty salon? You seem a little taller, your skin's gotten incredibly smooth and fair, and even your face is more handsome! Does this electricity come with beauty benefits?"
Curious, he reached out to pinch Boer's arm and check, then realized that would be inappropriate. He sheepishly withdrew his hand and scratched his messy hair in embarrassment.
At his words, Boer gave a gentle smile. "Haha, you're joking, Master Copperhammer. I probably have you two and everyone else to thank for this. This past month of using my abilities at such high intensity and precision has pushed both my body and mind to their limits. The gains really have been considerable. An unexpected bonus, you could say."
His tone was relaxed, but then he grew serious. "Now that the factory can begin operating, the adjustment and break-in work ahead will be even more involved. You two should take more breaks. Looking after your health matters most."
Leaning on his cane, Hunter gently shook his head. His deep eyes were bloodshot, but they burned with enthusiasm equal to any young man's. "These old bones can still hold up. Lord Boer, you've given us, and seekers of knowledge like us whom the world considers 'outsiders,' an unprecedented platform-not only to turn the knowledge passed down to us into reality, but also to conduct research in peace and receive the respect and compensation we deserve. That alone is worth giving it our all once more."
Copperhammer took over, habitually rubbing his thick fingers together as his expression turned practical. "Boer, you said earlier that you'd go resolve the ore problem. That's our top priority. Our final comprehensive inspections and system adjustments will probably take another week. The kingdom's existing metal reserves may look like mountains, but if we run at full design capacity, I'm afraid they won't last very long. As for electricity..."
He pointed underground. "Limited by our materials and current technology, this is as large as we can make the capacitor array. Once fully charged, it should keep the factory running for about ten days under a normal load. So I'm afraid we'll have to trouble you to come 'feed' this fellow once a week from now on."
Boer listened carefully, then nodded solemnly. "You're both far too kind. This factory is our shared undertaking, the cornerstone of changing Bernia's future. Whenever I'm needed, I'll be here on time. Once I've rested a little, I'll set out for the northern mining district. I'll resolve the raw materials problem as soon as possible."
Meanwhile, amid the endless rugged mountains of the north, in a secluded camp expanded from a natural mine tunnel, the atmosphere was utterly different from the factory's fervent bustle.
The camp's leader, Blake-formerly the Mountain Viscount's captain of the guard, now the leader of the Mine Protection Squad-sat alone on a cold rock, staring at the thin mist drifting through the valley, his brows tightly furrowed.
He was tall and muscular. Born into a miner's family at the very bottom of society, he had won the former viscount's appreciation through his willingness to fight and take risks, along with a little luck, and had been promoted to captain of the guard, escaping the mire. He had once thought he had found a way out and served the noble with unwavering loyalty.
But when the enormous Heavenly Tribute levy came down, everything changed. He was forced to become an executioner, sent to suppress miners who had risen in revolt because they could no longer endure the inhuman exploitation.
He witnessed firsthand how nobles treated people as expendable numbers, how they used whips and chains to force miners into tunnels that could collapse at any moment, and other loathsome practices. His inner struggle and conscience finally overcame his blind obedience.
During one clash, he seized the viscount, who had come on an inspection, ignored the miserable conditions, and even complained about declining production. That fool, blinded by rage, actually declared before all the desperate miners that he would kill every "lowborn" there and replace them with a new batch.
Then there was no afterward.
In the chaos, no one knew who struck first. Long-suppressed fury erupted like a volcano, and the arrogant viscount was swallowed up in an instant. Afterward, confronted with the wreckage strewn everywhere and the kingdom's approaching army, this rabble, composed mainly of farmers, miners, and a handful of guards who had betrayed their class as he had, fell into profound panic and helplessness.
It was then that Babo, an old miner who was normally taciturn and utterly unremarkable, stepped forward. He claimed to belong to the Revolutionary Army's West Army and said he could contact his superiors with a Den Den Mushi to seek help.
Soon, a group of core Revolutionary Army members with professional military training and organizational skills quietly arrived. With their help, the rabble was effectively organized, abandoned the exposed mines, and hid deep in the mountains and forests with their complex terrain, successfully evading the kingdom army's first few futile encirclement campaigns.
After several rounds of back-and-forth, the kingdom seemed to have tacitly accepted the stalemate-or rather, the cost of wiping them out had already exceeded the value this mining district could yield for the time being.
Through introductions by the Revolutionary Army, they also began contacting gangs and underground merchants, entering the ore-smuggling business.
But this so-called "smuggling" was merely another, less visible form of exploitation. Because their status was sensitive and they could not operate openly, officials and gangs along the transport routes still took cut after cut from their mined ore; meanwhile, the merchants took advantage of the situation to inflate the prices of the daily necessities and tools they needed.
Their workload might have decreased compared with the viscount's time, but everyone still had to work desperately hard to survive in the harsh conditions.
Especially now, with October already here and the mountain winds growing more biting by the day, Blake's heart grew heavy whenever he thought of the coming winter, when supplies would be even scarcer.
And the reports his subordinates had kept bringing him lately-a white monster that controlled metal had appeared in the Royal Capital, the kingdom had reorganized the Steel Heavy Industry Consortium, an enormous metal serpent had cruised through the sky-each one weighed on his heart like a massive boulder.
He had a vague sense that a storm was brewing, and that their band, struggling to survive in the cracks, was about to face an unprecedented upheaval. He tightened his grip on the rough hilt at his waist and gazed at the shadows of the overlapping mountains, his eyes heavy and lost. Where, exactly, did their path forward lie?
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