CH1045 · Rewrite
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Chapter 1045: A Black River on the Plain

When the armored train halted before the gathered observers, Iron Axe finally had a chance to study it properly.

Five cars—shorter by far than the first train he had seen, but built out rather than long. The steel plate armor gave it a bulk that felt deliberate, aggressive. Its surface was black and opaque. It crouched on the rails like something that had not yet decided whether to strike.

The first and fifth cars were identical. Both steam locomotives carried a rotatable machine gun on top and narrow observation ports punched through the steel plates at intervals for soldiers to watch and shoot from within.

Iron Axe let himself imagine it meeting a demon charge.

Spears raining down on the plating—successive clangs, no penetration. The train rolls forward at a steady pace. Through the ports on both sides, a dozen guns open fire in return, riddling the enemy with bullets. Demons and demonic beasts both find themselves unable to close, unable to inflict damage, unable to stop the advance.

A moving city wall.

Around him, soldiers had already begun to whisper.

The second and fourth cars carried the reason the First Army’s firepower needed to grow. Skeleton monsters, a demon outpost in the Taquila ruins—these were not targets for rifles alone. They needed heavy ordnance. One hundred fifty-two millimeter Longsong Cannons occupied each of those cars, but according to His Majesty, these were specially made—longer barrels, larger chambers—and each consumed the entire interior space of its car. Not even a machine gun could fit alongside one.

Wide protective cases wrapped each barrel, wider than the car itself, designed to guard against aerial attack.

Iron Axe admired the logic of it. He also worried silently that the cases might be too heavy, or that the recoil from firing might tear the cars apart. But he did not say so.

A soldier jogged to the king and saluted. “Your Majesty—everything is ready. Please issue the order!”

“This armored train is not yet under military operation. The Ministry of Industry is solely responsible for it.” Roland shook his head, something approaching amusement in the set of his mouth. “Report to the Minister of Industry. She is presiding over this test.”

Iron Axe had not noticed the queen until this moment. She stood among the observers in work clothes—the same kind worn by the engineers and factory workers—which was why he had missed her entirely.

“Your, Your Highness—” The soldier had gone red. “Everything is rea—ready—”

“I know,” Anna said. “Start the test.”

“Yes!” He turned and shouted at the train: “Start the test!”

The other observers bit back smiles. The siren rang out through the forest.

Woo—Woo—

Iron Axe fixed his eyes on the train. A capstan creaked. Then, to his astonishment, the thing began to change shape.

The steel plates on the flanks of the second and fourth cars expanded outward, stretching like iron legs—four on each side—each one ending in a flat plate that pressed into the snow when it landed. Not protective covering. Hydraulic supports. The train settled into the ground on those iron feet, held in place as if it had grown roots.

From a distance, it looked like a giant spider.

The deformed creatures of the demons. The thought arrived unbidden. Did His Majesty take their design and make it his own?

But this thing did not carry any of the demons’ wrongness about it. When all the legs were planted, the cannon fired.

The recoil was tremendous. The train did not move.


“It works.” Roland pulled out his earplugs and nodded at Anna.

He was not surprised. Every component of this train had been tested separately many times. The success was expected. What pleased him most was something the observers probably found least interesting.

The legs.

They were the first batch of hydraulic equipment Neverwinter had produced.

Pascal’s principle: a pressure change in a confined incompressible fluid transmits undiminished to every point in that fluid. Apply a small force to a sealed U-tube’s narrow end, and the wider end exerts a far greater force across its full area. The principle had countless applications—hydraulic jacks, hydraulic machinery. The precision manufacturing and sealing required to implement it had once been impossible here. They were not impossible anymore.

An electro-hydraulic support system. That was what the legs were.

Beyond the two cannon cars and the two locomotives, a fifth car sat in the middle: larger, carrying ammunition and a Dawn I generator to power everything on the train—lights, pumps, all of it.

Five cars. That was the baseline configuration. With a locomotive at each end, one pulling and one pushing, the train could exceed forty kilometers per hour. When speed mattered less than firepower, more cars could be coupled in. Different configurations for different demands. That modularity was, in Roland’s estimation, the train’s greatest tactical advantage.

While others were still marveling, Edith stepped from the crowd and approached with a calm smile.

“With this train, the plan for Taquila becomes genuinely feasible.” She bowed. “Your Majesty—does it have a name?”

Roland considered. “Blackriver.”

Edith’s eyes brightened. “Black River.” She said it slowly, as if tasting it. “A counterpart to the demons’ red lines.”

Roland let the smile come. ”…You are perceptive, Pearl of the Northern Region. That’s right.”

The red lines—the Red Mist supply lines—were the demons’ lifeline. In territory outside the natural Mist coverage, they built these conduits across the land to carry it forward. For the Union, the spread of the red lines had always meant the war was being lost.

Now a black line was being drawn across the Fertile Plains.

Black armored trains, carrying soldiers and ammunition deep into the Barbarian Land. A black river, flowing toward the enemy. Mankind’s lifeline running forward to meet theirs.

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