ushernet Chapter 127
Chapter 127
127. War with Money (1)
The news that Arad had almost been “kidnapped” spread instantly to the High Tower through magical communication devices.
What’s more, the attempted kidnapper turned out to be none other than Yulkanes, a mage of the Empire’s Golden Tower.
Upon hearing this, Arina felt a wave of dizziness overtake her.
“Arad, are you... are you hurt anywhere?”
Arina calmed her pounding heart as she studied Arad’s image in the communication device.
[No, I am unscathed.]
“Return to the High Tower immediately, at once.”
[No, Your Highness. Time is of the essence. Because of my mistake, the Empire’s Golden Tower has intensified its research on magical engines. We must create a lead at any cost.]
“No magical engine or airship is more important than you. Return immediately. That is an order.”
Arad’s location and destination were as significant a national secret as Arina’s physical condition.
Only the upper echelons of the High Tower and the executives of the Arad Group were privy to his movements.
Yet, Yulkanes had anticipated that Arad would come to the Magic Realm and had arrived there first to wait.
Even though he claimed to have learned this through the familiars of an 8th-circle mage, Arina didn’t believe that alone could explain how Arad’s movements had been exposed.
“Arad Jin, you are Renslet’s future. Your crisis is Renslet’s crisis! So return to the High Tower at once!”
Was it because of the recent turmoil they’d endured together? Arina felt a deep unease—about everything.
Perhaps that was why she felt as though the man she relied on more than anyone else, Arad, might disappear at any moment.
[Your Highness, I am overwhelmed by your care and do not know how to express my gratitude. I, too, wish to return to the High Tower immediately.]
But it seemed Arad didn’t fully grasp her feelings.
[However, Your Highness, please reconsider. Right now, Renslet’s peace and prosperity take precedence over my own safety.]
“Does the shipyard really have to be built in Count Jin’s territory?”
[It’s the least populated and most secluded, making it highly secure. Plus, being adjacent to the Great Forest makes material procurement much easier.]
Arad’s cheerful expression filled the magical communication device as he continued.
[And I am officially known to be in seclusion for research right now, am I not? This location seems perfect for such a cover. Hahaha!]
“......”
With Arad speaking so firmly, Arina found herself at a loss for words.
No, it wasn’t that she couldn’t argue; there were ways to compel him.
She could use her regular checkups as an excuse to tie him down.
Or she could order old Balzac, who was always near Arad, to drag him back by force.
“Fine... very well. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”
But Arina didn’t do any of that.
[Yes, Your Highness. I will repay your trust with the best possible results.]
Click.
With that, the magical communication ended.
“......”
After the call, Arina stared blankly at the communication device for a while.
“My lady?”
“Your Highness?”
Isabelle and Sun, standing nearby, looked at Arina with concern.
Is this... what it is?
Arina gave a bitter smile and placed her hand on her lower abdomen.
Arad’s behavior just now had been unusual.
The Arad she knew would usually follow her words without much resistance.
But this time, it was different.
I’m so worried... I even gave a direct order....
Most of all, she was in pain.
Has he truly fallen out of love with me?
Normally, she would have brushed it off with, Arad must really be obsessed with airships, and thought nothing more of it.
He had been this absorbed in projects before, like when he’d worked on that portrait in the past.
Well, it’s not like someone like me would ever be loved. No, of course not.
But the current Arina was both physically and emotionally unstable.
He must have found someone else. Someone healthy, gentle... unlike me.
These differences bred misunderstandings, which spiraled into various imaginings.
Yes, it’s time to let him go.
It would be better for Arad to be with a healthy Renslet woman.
“With a war underway and an urgent need for military supplies, there’s no need to worry about the Guilds’ opposition.”
Even before the war, the Loyalist nobles and the Imperial Family had been quietly building and operating factories.
However, their numbers and momentum had been limited by resistance from the Guilds.
“It’s time to sever ties. The information networks and funding we used to receive from the Guilds aren’t what they used to be.”
The Empire’s Imperial Steel had long been renowned.
Within the Empire, the power of artisans and their guilds was unmatched, far surpassing that of any other country on the continent.
But their glory snuffed out in an instant, like a candle in the wind.
Even the Emperor, who had protected them to the very end, abandoned them as if he had been waiting for the opportunity.
When the Emperor, riding the winds of industrialization, issued a conscription order across the Empire, an enormous quantity of supplies was required.
Under normal circumstances, the Empire’s workshops would have been alive with the sounds of artisans shouting and hammering steel.
But this time, it was different.
The workshops were dark, and instead, factory chimneys could be seen belching smoke throughout the cities, day after day.
Bang, bang, bang!
Chuff, chuff, chuff, chuff!
Creak, clank, clatter!
Inside the factories, steam engines—reverse-engineered copies—roared ceaselessly, churning out Imperial steel, weapons, and cotton cloth. Not even for a single moment did they rest.
The only beings allowed to rest were the humans working in the factories.
Under the strict supervision of Inspector Julian, Imperial workers were limited to a maximum of 15 working hours per day.
The factories operated in two shifts, producing military supplies around the clock without a single hour of downtime.
“My goodness....”
“If we were still producing these in workshops...?”
“We wouldn’t be able to make even one-hundredth of that output. And the cost in time and money would be tenfold.”
“Honestly, haven’t we produced too much already?”
“They won’t rust or collect dust if we store them in magical warehouses, but....”
“Rather than storing them, we should sell them somewhere else.”
“To the United Kingdoms? That might be tricky.”
“If we sell directly, it could become an issue.”
“Then?”
“Why not sell them to mercenary groups or war merchants?”
“That’s a good idea. How about trying to export to the East as well?”
“Excellent thought! Imperial steel is famous even in the Eastern Continent.”
The overwhelming quantity of weapons and cloth being churned out of the factories was enough to equip the Empire’s soldiers and still leave a surplus, prompting serious discussions about exports.
Despite this, the Empire hadn’t spent an exorbitant amount.
The budget used for this war was comparable to or only slightly greater than what had been spent during the Mongar Invasion.
However, the factory-based mass production provided the Empire with far greater quantities of weapons in a much shorter time, all for the same cost.
“More iron ore! Bring more iron ore!”
“And magic stones and coal, too!”
The factories consumed nothing but raw materials and modest labor costs.
The greatest beneficiaries of this system were the northern regions, which produced the raw materials, and the Bishop Company, which distributed them throughout the Empire.
It was the practical application of the old saying: If gold is discovered, sell pickaxes and jeans.
“Our Imperial soldiers fighting with such soulless weapons? This is an insult!”
“You’re bringing that up again? The world has changed. It’s time to accept it.”
“This cannot be! Do you know how loyal we artisans and guilds have been to the Empire...?”
“Sir Pieton, Master Smith of the Imperial Forge, your skills and reputation are unparalleled. Are you not still forging swords for the knights?”
Where there is light, there is also shadow.
The guilds, which had long advocated for honoring artisans and rejecting machinery and steam engines, had completely lost their influence, even within the Loyalist faction.
Factories and smokestacks were now regarded as common sense across the Empire, irrespective of the Loyalists, the Church, or the Nobles’ Council.
“I’m fine, of course. But what about my apprentices...?”
“That is unavoidable. Out of respect for your dedication to the Imperial Family, your apprentices will be employed as factory managers. I trust that will suffice.”
“But...”
“Shh! That’s as far as it goes. His Majesty has declared that the Empire can no longer rely on purchasing military supplies from the Bishop Company indefinitely.”
“...Understood.”
The artisans, however, had to count themselves fortunate.
The Emperor, mindful of his dignity, had shown them the bare minimum of loyalty.