R.L Alencar
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Chapter 128 (From engineer to Conqueror)
🕑 Added 2024-12-11 20:32:11 +0000 UTCAmelia was seated in her office, a pile of letters and documents scattered across the dark wooden desk. Sunlight streamed softly through the window, illuminating the room and highlighting the Drakmoor crest embroidered on the curtain in the background. Her eyes scanned each paper attentively, occasionally furrowing her brow when something required deeper analysis.
The responsibility of governing Drakmoor in Miguel's absence was no light burden, but Amelia faced it with determination. Still, the weight of accumulated work was evident, and a soft sigh escaped her lips as she pushed aside yet another finished document.
It was then that among the stacked correspondence, an envelope caught her attention. It bore a distinct golden seal with the symbol of the Eldersbag family—a crowned eagle clutching a scepter. It was a letter from the Duchy of Elders, the third-largest territory in the kingdom of Ardia.
Amelia muttered under her breath, "Who threw these letters here without telling me?" Irritated, she picked up the envelope and examined it, as if trying to deduce its contents solely by its weight and appearance. It was uncommon for such an important letter to be overlooked among the rest.
With a swift and precise motion, she broke the seal and opened the letter. Her eyes immediately darted over the opening lines of the text, and the signature at the end confirmed her suspicion. It was a message from Valmir Eldersbag, the duke of the powerful Eldersbag family.
Amelia leaned back in her chair, her mind already beginning to process the implications of the correspondence. Valmir had never been a close ally of her family. In fact, he and her late father, the former duke, had always shared a relationship marked by mutual indifference and distrust. In public, in the presence of the king, they maintained a facade of respect, but everyone knew there was latent animosity between them.
"What do you want now, Valmir?" Amelia murmured, holding the letter firmly. She knew that any correspondence from Duke Eldersbag was unlikely to be trivial. His words, even in writing, always carried significant political weight, and Amelia felt her heart quicken slightly as she prepared to uncover its content.
The light in the room seemed to dim for a moment, as if the very atmosphere was aware of the gravity of what was about to be revealed. Taking a soft breath to calm her thoughts, she began to read.
Amelia read carefully, letting every word of the letter etch itself into her mind. The tone was formal, but it carried an undertone of candor and calculation that she could not ignore. Duke Valmir Eldersbag, leader of one of Ardia's most influential families, began the letter with a meticulous introduction:
"To the young King Miguel of Drakmoor,
It is with great respect and curiosity that I write to you. I am Valmir Eldersbag, duke of the grand Duchy of Elders, a land renowned for its wealth in traditions and its cautious neutrality in times of conflict."
Amelia rolled her eyes slightly. "He always starts with pomp," she muttered before continuing.
"I have followed the rumors surrounding your kingdom and your actions during this absurd war. Allow me to say that I disagree with the course taken by our king and the recklessness of the other dukes who blindly support him. In my humble opinion, this war is nothing more than the reflection of a monarch's madness and the ambition of leaders who see no further than their immediate interests. I have refused to send a single soldier to fight in this war. My stance may seem dangerous, but I see no honor in fighting for a lost and immoral cause."
Amelia paused, feeling a mix of surprise and suspicion. Valmir was rarely so direct, but his words carried weight. She continued reading.
"I must confess," the letter went on, "that my interest in your kingdom and in you, King Miguel, grows with every account I hear. I know that your father, the late Duke of Drakmoor, was not a man of character. His actions reflected on his descendants, causing deep wounds to our duchy and beyond. However, from all that I have heard about you, it seems you are different. Perhaps you are the winds of change."
Amelia scoffed, irritated. "He's definitely including me in that criticism," she said, crossing her arms momentarily before resuming.
"I would very much like to meet you in person. Not only to understand who you truly are but also to discuss possible agreements that could benefit both our territories. Your kingdom has made an intriguing impression, and for me, it is essential to see with my own eyes whether the stories are true or mere legends. I hope you consider this invitation as a gesture of good faith."
The signature lay below in elegant black ink:
"With respect,
Valmir Eldersbag, Duke of Elders."
Amelia finished reading and sighed audibly, dropping the letter onto the desk. "It’s certainly important," she admitted, rising and walking to the sideboard. She poured a glass of wine, the ruby liquid gleaming in the sunlight streaming through the window. Bringing the glass to her lips, she gazed out at the landscape of Drakmoor.
"Miguel... you’ve achieved the impossible," she murmured, a mix of pride and caution in her tone. She adjusted her uniform, straightening it with firm hands as her thoughts aligned. "This is too good to be true."
She turned, her eyes falling once more on the letter on the desk. "If this is real, Miguel is drawing attention that could change the course of the war. But if it’s a trick by the king or that scoundrel Aurelio..." Amelia took a deep breath, her eyes shining with determination. "I will find out."
---
The atmosphere was serious in the governor's office. The dwarf king Thrain and the council representative, Dáin, sat across from Miguel, while Governor Baudor remained silent, observing. The firelight illuminated the thoughtful and reserved expressions of the dwarves. Miguel knew he was dealing with sharply critical and skeptical minds, but he maintained his composure.
Dáin began, his voice firm and direct.
"Let me be clear, King Miguel. I don't like you, nor do I trust humans." He paused, looking Miguel directly in the eyes. "But I must admit that, so far, you have shown yourself to be a person of character. Perhaps even different from others of your kind. For that reason, I will take your proposal to the council."
The dwarf king Thrain added, folding his hands on the table.
"I also agree to cooperate, but only under limited terms. We will assist with labor and technical knowledge to build the machines you need, but we will not get involved in the war. If humans discover that we have a solid kingdom on these islands, we will become the next target. And that is not a fight we are prepared to face."
Miguel remained silent for a few moments, processing Thrain's words. Internally, he felt a pang of displeasure. The idea of the dwarves remaining neutral while the beastmen faced a genocidal war deeply bothered him, but he knew he could not impose his opinions. He took a deep breath and responded diplomatically.
"I understand, Your Majesty," Miguel said. "And I am not asking for soldiers or warriors. Better than people are the weapons they carry. I appreciate the help you are already willing to offer."
The king nodded, satisfied with the response.
"Even so," Thrain continued, "even without the council's approval, the machines can be built. As long as no one knows it was you who designed them." He glanced at Dáin and suggested with a subtle smile, "We will say it was the councilor who came up with the ideas."
Dáin, surprised, quickly retorted, “This is ridiculous! I don’t like the human, but I don’t like lying about something I didn’t do!”
Before the tension could escalate, Miguel raised his hand to interrupt. “It’s a good idea,” he said in a conciliatory tone. “If the proposal seems to come from me, the council might hesitate. If it’s presented as a gift of mutual cooperation, it will simplify things. What matters is that the work gets done.”
Everyone agreed, albeit with varied expressions. King Thrain looked relieved, Dáin crossed his arms reluctantly, and Baudor maintained his usual calm smile.
Miguel then stood and gathered the sketches from the table. But before concluding the discussion, he looked at Thrain with seriousness. “Your Majesty, before we finish, there’s another project I want to discuss. Something that could change the course of the conflict and help bring an end to the war.”
The dwarves watched with curiosity as Miguel pulled a larger scroll from his bag. He unrolled it across the table, revealing the sketch of a colossal ship, a design blending ambition and technology into one.
“This,” Miguel began, pointing to the drawing, “is a warship.” He traced his finger along the sketch as he explained. “Its structure will be made of reinforced oak, with bronze metallic details for added durability. It will be equipped with large cannons positioned along the sides, at the bow, and at the stern. Each side will be capable of firing multiple times in quick succession.”
Thrain’s eyes narrowed as he analyzed the drawing. Miguel continued, “It will be larger and stronger than any current ship. Designed not just to transport soldiers and supplies, but to dominate the seas. The innovation, however, lies here.” He pointed to the center of the ship, where a rudimentary sketch of something resembling an engine was drawn.
Dáin frowned. “And what is that? I don’t see any sails. How can a ship this size sail without them?”
Miguel smiled slightly. “This,” he said, “is what I call a steam engine. With it, the ship won’t rely on winds or currents. It will be able to cross the seas in any weather condition.”
The dwarves stared at Miguel in silence, trying to grasp the concept. Finally, Thrain spoke:
“You are bold, King Miguel. This project… I’ve never heard of anything like it. It would be revolutionary. But how do you expect to build something so grand?”
Miguel looked at the dwarf king, his voice firm and full of conviction. “With your help. I know the dwarves have the skill and technical knowledge to make this a reality. I’m not asking you to fight in our war, but if you can help us build something like this, we could ensure the safety of Drakmoor and perhaps even protect these islands from any future threats.”
The young king Thrain leaned closer over the table, his eyes fixed on the detailed sketch of the ship. His expression reflected a mix of surprise and fascination. “Cannons,” he murmured, as if testing the word for the first time. “So these weapons you’ve shown us can be scaled to something much larger?”
Miguel nodded. “Exactly, Your Majesty. A cannon operates under the same principle as smaller firearms like the rifle and pistol. It uses gunpowder to create a controlled explosion that propels a projectile — but in this case, a significantly larger and much more destructive one.”
Thrain scanned the ship illustration again, trying to imagine something so colossal and lethal sailing the seas. He pointed to the engine sketched in the ship's center. “And this here, Miguel? This steam engine… how does it work? I’ve never heard of such a thing before.”
Miguel straightened, clearly prepared to explain. “A steam engine is a machine that converts heat into mechanical energy. Here, we’ll use boilers to heat water to the boiling point, generating steam. The steam, under high pressure, will be channeled to move pistons that will turn propellers or paddle wheels, propelling the ship forward. This eliminates reliance on winds or ocean currents.”
The dwarf king blinked a few times, absorbing the explanation. “So… you’re saying this ship won’t rely on sails? It can sail even in calm seas or storms?”
“Yes,” Miguel replied confidently. “That’s the great advantage. With a steam engine, it will be self-sufficient in terms of propulsion. It won’t need to wait for favorable weather conditions, which means it can be used in any strategic situation.”
Thrain frowned, leaning in to examine the sketch more closely. “But something like this must require vast resources and highly skilled workers. This wouldn’t be a simple project.”
Miguel agreed, crossing his arms as he looked at the king. “You’re absolutely right, Your Majesty. It won’t be simple or quick. That’s why I need the cooperation of the dwarves. You are masters of engineering and construction. I have the sketches and the concept, but the execution requires skills that you have in abundance.”
Councilor Dáin, who had remained silent until now, interjected. “And what about fuel? How will you keep these boilers running? It sounds like an ambitious but dangerous project.”
Miguel responded promptly. “Initially, we’ll use coal, which can be mined and transported in large quantities. It’s efficient and relatively easy to store. Over time, we can adapt the design to utilize other energy sources. But for now, coal will suffice to power the engine over long distances.”
Thrain leaned back in his chair, his eyes still fixed on the sketch. “This ship would be larger than anything that has ever sailed these seas,” he commented, almost to himself. “And the cannons… if they’re as powerful as you say, it would completely change how naval battles are fought.”
Miguel smiled faintly, noting the impact of his words. “Exactly. I don’t just want to win this war, Your Majesty. I want to ensure that future wars are avoided. A fleet of ships like this won’t just be a weapon; it will be a deterrent. Who would dare attack a kingdom that possesses something like this?”
The dwarf king remained silent, his fingers drumming on the table. His curiosity and admiration were evident. He finally looked at Miguel and said, “This is the boldest project I’ve ever heard of. We’ll need more details, but…” He smiled slightly. “…you certainly know how to capture a dwarf’s attention, King Miguel.”
