CH662 · Rewrite
☕ Support

Chapter 662: The Defensive Line

The grey slate roof of the castle greeted him when the Dream World released its hold.

Roland stretched his hands open and closed, working through the familiar test—bend, extend, bend, extend. Aside from that persistent warmth beneath his sternum, everything felt the same as it had on the other side. Luckily the fall always broke the connection; without that mechanism, he wasn’t certain he could have told reality from imagination.

Could the brain simulate something that complete?

The question lingered. He turned it over. The cyclone in particular—the way it had looked exactly as Nightingale had described magic power, and yet more precise, more intricate than anything she’d managed to put into words. If the Force of Nature truly derived from magic power, then a dream-version of it should have been indistinct, approximate, the brain’s approximation of a thing it had only heard described. Instead it had been impossibly detailed. And the burnt-face man. And the heat that had resonated with the cyclone as he’d seized it.

He didn’t know what to make of any of it.

The Dream World was far more complicated than he’d assumed, and his brain, whatever its virtues, was not large enough to contain a satisfying explanation. If it wasn’t a product of his subconscious, where exactly was it?

After some time with no answer forthcoming, he set the question aside. There were more immediate things.

The library had been productive. He’d moved through volumes quickly, retaining each page in the way the Dream World had taught him, and one book in particular had caught his attention—a detailed treatment of alloy proportioning and material properties that would save Anna and Lucia months of testing time. With that knowledge in hand, the path to third-generation machine tools capable of forging higher-precision parts became considerably shorter. He would have to guide the first operators personally, but the route was clear.

More people arrived in the western region every week, drawn from every corner of Graycastle. Some had already passed the universal education assessment and found positions. The movement was gradual, but it was real, and he had built the conditions for it. When the kingdom unified next year, Neverwinter might stand at the threshold of industrialization.

Once that threshold was crossed, everything would change in ways he could not fully predict—and that uncertainty did not trouble him the way it once might have.


In the afternoon, Karl Van Bate arrived with news about Route 67. The road had been completed ahead of the schedule set for the Kingdom Main Street—shorter distance, more experienced crews. As promised, the construction team’s core workers were now officially affiliated with the border area.

“Your Majesty,” Karl said, spreading his hands over the table, “if there’s no further road-building planned, I’d like to redirect everyone to residential construction. There’s considerable extra cost in wages, but Neverwinter needs the housing.”

Roland knew this. The construction teams numbered around five thousand, with roughly half already committed to new residential quarters to absorb the population City Hall had been persuading to relocate from other cities. In a single year, the town had expanded by a factor of three—not counting the new farmland south of Redwater River.

“The road-building can wait.” He opened the map of the border area and set a finger on North Slope Mountain. “I want a railway laid between the mine and the pier. Direct connection, for moving coal from the west.”

“There’s already a road—” Karl stopped himself. “You mean a railway?”

“Yes. Similar to the orbital transport system in the mine, but built of steel.”

Karl was quiet for a moment. “A railway doesn’t require many workers.”

“It doesn’t,” Roland agreed, keeping his expression neutral. The mine’s current solution—ropes, a steam engine, horses—would not survive contact with what he actually wanted. Karl didn’t yet understand that, and Roland didn’t point it out.

What he wanted was trains.

Since their invention, trains had altered the character of land itself—compressing the distances between places that had previously existed in separate worlds. Black connecting rods turning wheel after wheel, white steam trailing through mountain passes, a rhythmic clang that turned wilderness into territory. The principles of a steam engine were straightforward enough. The system—locomotive, roadbed, rolling stock, scheduling, the entire apparatus that made a railway function—was something else entirely. Roland knew it would take years before this short test line became anything approaching what he imagined.

Luckily, I can learn from the Dream World.

“Send two hundred people to begin grading the roadbed toward Misty Forest,” Roland said. “Working outward from the second city wall.”

Karl’s brow creased. “Your Majesty—the railway will be exposed to demonic beast attack.”

“They have no interest in steel. And the line won’t be complete before the Months of Demons. We won’t be hiding behind the mud wall next year anyway.” Roland gestured at the open map. “Don’t you feel how crowded the border area has become?”

“You mean…”

“We expand.” His finger moved northwest, past the Impassable Mountain Range into the vast territory beyond. “The Barbarian Land has resources equal to anything in Graycastle. A mud wall is not enough to hold against demons—not if the Battle of Divine Will begins and they raise a third Obelisk at Tuqaila. The outpost would reach the foot of the mountains, and every pass through the range becomes a vulnerability. Flying Devilbeasts could come over the peaks and harass our position every day without touching a single wall.”

He paused to let that settle.

“The Impassable Mountain Range has to become our city wall. Every peak mounted with Longsong Cannon, every approach within range. The land covered within that arc becomes the new city of Neverwinter.” He looked at Karl. “There are no rivers connecting that territory to the interior. Moving coal or supplies quickly into the Barbarian Land can only happen by rail.”

“This is a very large project,” Karl said slowly.

“It is. And I believe you’re equal to it.” Roland left the rest unspoken—the obvious appeal of it, for any builder. To bring the Impassable Mountain Range into the kingdom’s boundary, to build the city that would stand against the end of the world. To be remembered for it.

Karl’s eyes had already taken on the focused, slightly distant look Roland associated with a man who had begun to plan.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Discussion

Suggest a change