Science and Madness

by The Blight

In their pursuit of power and "data", defectors from Zurrernorn and Corpus of the Abyss try summoning something directly from beyond. However, what they pull from the other side is completely unexpected. Away from home and disoriented, a madman finds that when the world is filled impossibly powerful beings, science is his only ally.

18. Exercise In Trivialities

Renner sat with her hands folded neatly in her lap. Sitting beside her two brothers and father, she was a shining star, the golden princess of the kingdom. She made sure to smile at everyone entering the hall. It would be best to inspire feelings of patriotism in the hearts of those about to attend a war meeting.

The voice in her head continued to speak with her.

"How much grain is left?"

She replied only with thought. "None. The last of the reserve is headed for E-Rantel now. Solution-sama picked it up this morning."

"Then all is going according to Ainz-sama's plan. All there is to do now is wait for him to show the world his glory."

"Certainly."

Renner smiled radiantly at someone entering the hall. Normally It was a trained and automatic movement. but that was for normal people, when she saw who it was she made sure to put extra sweetness into it.

"By the way, our stray dog has just arrived at the meeting."

"Test to make sure he can't hear our discussion."

Renner looked straight at the newcomer's face and watched it closely.

"Hey! Wesley-san! I know you can hear me! I know who you are!"

She waited several seconds but nothing happened.

"He didn't react. I doubt he's listening in."

"Are you certain? He could very well be feigning ignorance."

"I'm sure. He's smart but not he isn't particularly good at hiding his thoughts. I would've noticed if he heard."

"Very well, I'll take your word for it. But be careful, remember, based on what we know, he very likely has some way of eavesdropping on our conversations that we can't detect."

"That would make my assertion that he's Rhamnusia himself more likely then, right? Everything we know points to that."

"Normally I would agree with your assessment, but Ainz-sama regards Rhamnusia with utmost caution. That human is much too weak to warrant that kind of attention. So the only logical conclusion is that that human is working as Rhamnusia's subordinate."

"If he's so weak then why not just have one of the shadow demon's follow him at all times?"

"What do you mean? Until we can confirm with 100% certainty that Rhamnusia doesn't possess the mind control item that was used on Shalltear, we can't send any spies to watch him directly. The risk of one of us becoming a double agent is too great."

"You give that man too much credit. If you're so worried about him, why not simply try to make a double agent out of him? Surely Ainz-sama would be able to convince him."

"I'd normally agree with that assessment too, but since Ainz-sama said that there is a possibility of Rhamnusia being a player, then there is also a high probability that Wesley is one of his creations. If that were the case, his loyalty would be impossible to change.

Our only option in respect to Ainz-sama's order for caution is to observe his actions in a more traditional manner. I've already taken the liberty of setting that up."

"I understand."

The call ended and Renner went back to greeting guests with her smile.

...

In the past, any meeting involving all six of the great nobles was assuredly going to be a tense one. But that was in the past.

Currently, it wasn't so much that the atmosphere was tense, rather that it felt like everyone was sitting on barrels full of dynamite with the floor sprinkled in black powder while everyone simultaneously juggled lit firecrackers in their hands. A scene that may have been comedic to a select few, but a single suppressed smile or misaligned giggle could threaten to blow everyone to kingdom come. And in truth, much of it was his fault.

"Ah, Wesley-san, over here." Raeven beconed Stockwell to stand next to him. "It's good to see you, I had heard you'd fallen ill after the demonic disturbance."

"Yes, thank you for your kind words. I'm much better now." Stockwell said. "I also received your letter on the way. Everything has been prepared for."

"Marvelous. I'm hopeful that something surprising will happen during this meeting, but regrettably, I think this will all go exactly as expected. "

Stockwell took his place and glanced around the Hall. Standing with him at the core of the room were each of the six great nobles: Raeven, Blumrush, Pespea, Urovana, Lytton, and Boullope, as well as the first and second princes: Barbro and Zanac. Behind them and around the peripheries of the room were many others as well; lesser nobles and other miscellaneous personas within Re-estize, included among them were mayor Rettenmaier and the merchant Baldo.

At the front of the hall sat King Ramposa III with the warrior captain Gazef Stronoff who stood stalwart at his side. Princess Renner also sat quietly off to the side.

With that damn smile of hers no less. Stockwell looked away and shivered, acknowledging the off feeling in his gut and remembering from the conversation he overheard earlier that there was likely some kind of monster hiding in her shadow.

The fact that he was allowed to stand so close to Raeven and the other nobles, in other words, the primary vehicle of discussion, gave credence to how significant a player he had become within the kingdom recently. It also demonstrated how much the balance of power had shifted away from the Noble faction and into Raeven's hands, who was likely the only one who wanted Stockwell to be standing with them.

And the reason for the noble faction's decline was because of the steel trader course. Firstly, many of the lesser nobles within the Noble faction had long since realized that they could make much more money if they ousted the current iron forgers on their lands and helped E-Pespel Steel Works to take over industry there. This was because of the Grey Wolf's almost magical ability to produce high quality steel from ores that were generally only used to make low quality iron, thus making the net increase of value after processing much greater than before.

A massive increase in value in any part of the market would naturally yield greater returns to the ones presiding over the business in their holds, in other words the noble. There was also no doubt that several deals had been made behind closed doors with the Grey Wolf himself to get even more of the profits. Needless to say, many of the members of the nobility faction jumped ships to the Royal faction as part of these deals.

Of course, a small cut of money and increased value of an important market might've been enough for some nobles whose loyalty was flimsy to begin with. But there were still many who jumped ship for a different reason, and that was because the Nobility faction's demise was all but a foregone conclusion at this point.

The two biggest players of the Noble faction, Marquis Boullope and Count Lytton,had been killed in some scandal with the Eight-fingers some time ago. No one actually knew it of course, but this was also the Grey Wolf's fault.

The first sons of Boullope and Lytton were still inexperienced, and had to deal with the fact that they had been bequeathed a losing battle. They felt the eyes of everyone in the room laughing at them pityingly.

But even though the Noble faction had fallen from grace, the fact still remained that they held a considerable amount of power between them. Enough to greatly destabilize the kingdom. That was the main cause for tension.

The great doors to the hall closed and the idle chatter fell silent.

"Now then, let us begin. Read out the proclamation delivered by the Imperial emissary."

In accordance with the King's orders, the vassal to his left began reading the contents of the parchment.

The contents were roughly as followed:

The Baharuth Empire acknowledges the sovereignty of the independent Kingdom of Nazarick, ruled by the great magic caster known as the Sorcerer King Ainz Ooal Gown, and formally recognizes it as an ally of the Empire.

Originally, the region near E-Rantel was the domain of the Sorcerer King Ainz Ooal Gown. The Kingdom of Re-Estize is unlawfully occupying this territory and must now return it to its rightful owner.

If the Kingdom does not comply with this demand, the Empire will aid the Sorcerer King Ainz Ooal Gown in an invasion to reclaim the Sorcerer King's territory.

This will be a just war, fought to end unjust occupation.

After the contents were read out, the room exploded into a hubbub of discussion. These terms were insane, and so was anyone who agreed to them.

"Just in case, I have also had the scholars examine the Kingdom's history, and no mention of any individual named Ainz Ooal Gown ruling the surroundings of E-Rantel was discovered. There is no legitimacy to this claim."

…

The immediate discussion was kept rather brief. It was understood by most that this "Ainz Ooal Gown" was just a casus belli. And despite Gazef's efforts, war was ultimately decided upon. It was the only logical option if the kingdom was to not turn into the laughing stock of the world.

...

It was apparent from the bickering in the room that very few individuals actually cared about the well being of Re-Estize. Stockwell drifted into his own mind. This is about what I had expected… All these nobles care about are their own hides.

He glanced at Gazef who had been shot down decisively during the discussion. The warrior captain's looking pretty distraught right now… it might be prudent to take this 'Ainz Ooal Gown' into consideration, maybe I should—

"All right. Then, we shall delay our reply to the Empire, and gather our troops at the usual place before we declare war. Naturally, I will be going as well." Since the room had devolved into petty prattling, Raeven took it upon himself to move the discussion forward and addressed the king.

"As for the arms situation I sent word to you about, it would seem that everything has already been arranged for."

King Ramposa looked to the man standing next to Raeven, "So that must mean you are this famed 'Gray Wolf' then? Wesley Aamon?"

Stockwell bowed the minimally acceptable amount. "That would be me, yes."

"Then I can see where you get 'Gray' from in your name. I also believe I've seen you around the palace from afar in the company of my daughter." The King's eyes softened into those of a doting father, "I do hope you've been on friendly terms."

...Regrettably. Stockwell bit his lip. He could practically feel the little girl's gaze boring into him from across the room.

The king had brought up the subject of his daughter not simply on a whim however. In actuality, he was using a conversational tactic that would give him insight into Stockwell's allegiances. By opening up the conversation, he was allowing Stockwell the chance to act familiar with him.

Stockwell knew this, but didn't feel like playing political games at the moment. "We are all aware of how lovely princess Renner is, but there are more pressing matters to discuss at the moment, your majesty."

"Hmmph, if you insist, Wesley Ammon. It would seem our social rituals are lost on you."

Ranposa sighed. "Marquis Raeven is calling for 250,000 soldiers. We have yet to field an army of such size; additional spears will need to be made, and many blades and pieces of armor for the higher class will need to be reforged. Since you happen to control the majority of this nation's steel industry, we will be looking to you for support." Ramposa looked at Stockwell.

"An order of that size is child's play for E-Rantel Steel Works." Stockwell looked into Ramposa's hardened face. "And since it would seem that the country is in dire need and that the royal treasury has seen better days, I'm willing to be accomodating in terms of compensation."

It was implied by this statement that E-Rantel Steel Works would be willing to lower the normal price in exchange for political favors down the line. Ramposa understood this concept well.

He looked deeply into Stockwell's steady gaze. "I can now see where you get the 'Wolf' in your name from. Very well then, I will accept your offer. I trust that there will be no issues regarding our army's equipment."

Stockwell bowed a bot lower than before and returned to his place. "Thank you for your generous patronage."

That was all that Stockwell needed to say for the meeting and so his job was done. King Rampossa concluded the meeting shortly after.

…

Naturally, Stockwell met with Raeven a little ways outside the meeting hall as everyone was aiming to leave the palace. He found him off in a corner.

"About what you expected, Mr. Raeven?"

"The meeting itself, yes, about what I expected. However, the future of Re-Estize is in much more peril than I expected," said Raeven. "I swear, those two boys heading the Noble faction would rather self-destruct and take the whole kingdom with them than swallow their pride."

"Yes…" Stockwell said. "Boullope and Lytton might be able to do some damage, but I don't see them destroying the kingdom. I'm more worried about Baharuth at the moment."

"I suppose." Raeven agreed. "You and her highness have certainly done good work throwing wrenches into their schemes. But Baharuth has never— oh I see Wesley-san, you're worried about E-Rantel, aren't you? You just made a corporate move there, correct?"

Stockwell nodded grimly. "All my liquid assets are there as we speak. The last thing I want is for my warehouses to be sacked like they were during the demonic disturbance."

"I doubt you need to worry, Wesley-san. E-Rantel is well fortified, even if Baharuth is somehow serious and successful in the field, they would not be able to mount an extended siege."

"Perhaps but…" Stockwell glanced around him. "I have it on good authority that this war will be unlike the others."

"Who's authority?"

"My own instincts." Stockwell glanced around him once more, as if looking for spies. "Do you ever catch yourself watching the shadows and not knowing why? As though some deep, primal part of your being knows that dark magics are afoot and is acting on self-preservation."

"I think you are being paranoid, Wesley-san"

"It's Renner, Raeven." Stockwell leaned in and spoke quietly. "I don't think she has the kingdom's best interests in mind."

Raeven frowned. "What makes you say that? So far she has done nothing but save this kingdom."

"To what end though? You know as well as I do that she doesn't give a damn about helping people. She's a psychopath, Raeven. She's the kind of person that'll sell her soul to the highest bidder. You can't trust someone like that."

"Even so, I'm afraid we don't have a choice but to trust her." Raeven said. "Again, I think you're being paranoid. Regardless of her personal disposition and whatever her ultimate goals may be, she's still the princess of this kingdom and will need it's favor along with ours to operate. She has no logical reason to throw that away."

"Then why E-Rantel?" Stockwell pressed.

Raeven's eyes narrowed, "Excuse me?"

"Why would she encourage me to move to E-Rantel? She even negotiated with the mayor to help me along. If she —... if she knew that E-Rantel was going to be captured by Baharuth... and if she was worried about my growing influence and other activities and was looking for a way to get rid of me then…"

Raeven put his hand up to stop him. "That's a bit of a reach in reasoning. Not only would she have no reason to get rid of you like that, but your logic would have to rely on the pretext of her being able to 100% reliably predict the location, intent, and outcome of the war several weeks before it was even declared. And nobody could—"

"—Hold on, Mr. Raeven." Stockwell's eyes locked onto someone approaching behind them. He called out to them. "Warrior captain."

Raeven turned and greeted the new arrival. "Ah, Stronoff-dono. How are you?"

All the men exchanged hands. Gazef allowed a tired smile to cross his face. "I've been better. It feels like all of Re-Estize is fighting against me."

Raeven laughed lightly. "Yes, the room really gave you a hard time."

"I know this is presumptuous of me, but If only they could have just seen through my eyes…" Gazef said despondently, "Then I'm certain they would have decided on a different course of action."

"Handing over E-Rantel to Baharuth is not on the table, warrior captain." Stockwell interjected. "Forgive me for being so blunt, but that is the last thing this kingdom needs."

Gazef sighed, "Yes… someone in your position would say that. I don't mean that as an insult, Wesley-dono, after all, his majesty decided as such as well. It's perhaps just my instincts talking…"

Raeven's expression changed at the mention of instincts. It would seem that he was now listening to Gazef very carefully. Stockwell glanced in his direction, the beginnings of a plan was forming in his mind.

"I'm the furthest thing from a superstitious person, warrior captain." Stockwell said, "But I think there are some cases in which listening to instincts is warranted. In your professional opinion as a soldier, how do you think this war is going to turn out?"

Gazef looked carefully between the two other men. He learned recently about Raeven's true nature and knew that he could trust him. But as for the other…

Raeven caught on to Gazef's thoughts. "Wesley-san is trustworthy. He has no reason to betray the interests of Re-Estize or her people. He's just an honest businessman seeking his fortune, and he's been working closely with me for a year now."

"I see…" Gazef nodded slowly.

"He also charged into a sea of demons and attacked Jaldabaoth with a dagger for Gods' sake."

Gazef's expression completely changed and he opened up upon hearing that. "Oh, so that madman was you! I had thought I had seen something like that happen during the demonic disturbance. I thought I was hallucinating. I'd apologize for not jumping in after you, but luckily it seems like you made it out just fine."

Stockwell frowned and rubbed his forehead in pain. "Yes… a friend of mine went in after me and managed to get me out… Life in this world would certainly be impossible without her. I owe her quite a bit."

Raeven chuckled. "Having seen it in person, I'd say you owe her more than just 'quite a bit'."

"Well, you're not wrong." Stockwell's eyes hardened, "But I think we may be getting a little bit off track, Raeven."

He turned to Gazef. "As I was saying before, warrior captain. I want you to tell us your professional opinion, without fear of being unpatriotic, exactly how you think this war will unfold."

Gazef closed his eyes. He talked slowly and deliberately. "I know for certain that this war will be unlike any of the others, and I doubt the difference will be good. Ainz Ooal Gown… He treated his name with great importance. I doubt he would allow it to be used for something like a weak causes belli. If he really intends to take E-Rantel, and he fight's in earnest, I'm doubtful of our ability to stop him. I can not give you an exact number since I do not know the exact extent to his power. All I can tell you is what my instincts are telling me: engaging him is a very bad idea."

Raeven's face was flooded with a different kind of worry. He was beginning to entertain the idea that the kingdom might collapse for a completely different reason. "Is the situation truly that grim?"

All Gazef did was nod, but the simple action contained within it an unspoken gravity. The look in his eyes suggested that he was contemplating the end times. The image deeply disturbed Raeven. He retreated into thought. "I-I see…"

Stockwell's eyes narrowed, "I see, then if that's the case, it's only right that we do absolutely everything we can to help the war effort." He looked straight into Raven's eyes and spoke earnestly. "If there is anyone you know, absolutely anyone you know who can help Re-Estize, you must contact them. Promise me."

Raeven recoiled slightly at how hard Stockwell was pressing, "Y-Yes, I promise. I'll take that to heart…"

Stockwell sighed with relief. "So how long do we actually have?"

"A little more than two months." Raeven said. "If nothing unexpected happens."

Stockwell looked between the two other men, "I guess I'll be taking my leave then, I need to be getting back to E-Rantel as soon as possible. As fate would have it, I have a very large order to fulfill." He shook their hands. "Mr. Stronoff, Mr. Raeven."

"I wish you well."

"Farewell, Wesley-san, have a safe trip."

…

Raeven looked tentatively around the corner. "Lockmeyer, no one is following us, yes?" Raeven was dressed in a cloak that concealed his entire body. He didn't wish for anybody to know about this.

Lockmeyer trailed close behind him, keeping watch for trailers. "It's all clear, sir."

"Good, stay here and keep watch. I can manage from here."

"Yes."

Raeven rounded two more corners alone. He already knew the way. He had come to this alley way before. Nestled in the crook of his arm beneath his cloak was a very special kind of magic artifact. According to the voice that came from within it, the artifact was called a "radio".

It had appeared at his residence after the meeting. He had some suspicions as to how it got there, but only suspicions. As for who it actually belonged to though, of that he was certain.

A figure appeared from within the darkness of the alley. "Marquis Raeven, how good of you to show up."

Raeven swallowed the lump growing in his throat. His voice was different from the one he had heard through the "radio" and a little different from what he remembered, but his appearance was undeniable proof of who it was. "-Rhamnusia-sama, good to see—"

"—Now now, Raeven-san. There's no need to be so formal, we're friends here, you and I, right?"

"Friends? Ahem yes. Friends." Raeven thought that was probably the wise answer. There was no need to be making more enemies, and besides he had steeled himself to come for a very particular reason. He was in need of a favor.

"It's been some time Raeven-san, why don't we catch up a bit. How's your little boy doing?"

It would seem that the demon wished to engage in small talk, Raeven mused. Regardless, he was still genuinely thankful for what Rhamnusia had done for him. "He's made a full recovery thanks to you. You have my gratitude."

"That's good to hear. I was afraid it wouldn't arrive in time. All that Jaldabaoth nonsense really complicated things."

Raeven's eyes grew wide. "So her highness was right! I had assumed you were working with Jaldabaoth."

"Working with him!? So you just assume that all demons work together?" Rhamnusia recoiled. "I hate that fiend almost as much as the universe itself! In fact, he had even taken it upon himself to show me exactly what true hate is! I-"

Rhamnusia calmed himself. "Forgive me. You see, I've invested quite a lot of energy into this collapsing, godforsaken kingdom, so when surprise demon emperors and yandere princesses come out of the woodwork to ruin all my plans, it's understandable that I would get a bit frustrated. Surely you get me, right, Raeven-san?"

"Right…"

"So, since it seems that we're now on this topic of this doomed little kingdom of ours, I believe you had a proposition for me? I had figured that you may be having second thoughts about this little spat with the Empire, so I sent you that radio in hopes that you might find me."

"Yes, it's as you say, Rhamnusia-sa… -san. I made a promise to seek out anyone who might be able to help Re-Estize on the battlefield. And so…"

"And so you thought I might be able to alleviate some of your stress, yes? But stress is not so easily alleviated, Raeven-san. If you require my services, it will cost you."

Raeven gulped once more. "Of course, and we're- I am willing to pay. I'm sure that once Re-Estize is victorious in this war and stability is returned we will be able to reimburse you for your troubles."

"Reimburse me for my troubles you say?" Rhamnusia laughed slowly. "I'm afraid no amount of gold will compensate for my troubles."

"Then—"

"—As fate would have it, Raeven-san, our goals are aligned. I despise the idea of Baharuth plundering E-Rantel even more than you do, so I'm willing to offer you my services at a bargain."

"What… What do you want?"

"Actually not that much Reaven-san, it's practically a steal. All I want is some information."

"Information?"

"Yes, information. You see, Raeven-san, I'm generally very good at collecting information, but sadly my opponent, you know her as princess Renner, has been carefully regulating everything that reaches my ears. It's come to my attention though that you, Marquis Raeven, have been having one on one conferences with her. I simply wish to know everything she knows about me, Rhamnusia, and any hints as to who she could be serving."

Raeven cupped his chin. So that's how it is then. Hmm… He was beginning to gain insight as to exactly what kind of person "Rhamnusia" was. But first…

Raeven straightened his back. "Hold on, Rhamnusia-san. Before I agree to anything, I must first know if you can actually hold up your end of the deal. Can you actually give me a guarantee that your services are worth the trouble? As far as i know, Baharuth intends to field six legions and on top of that, they're backed by a powerful magic caster named Ainz Ooal Gown."

Rhamnusia seemed surprised at the sudden change in Raeven's tone. "A guarantee, you say? Hmph, you seem to be misinterpreting the mutual level of trust between us. I'm far from what people would call a saint, but I'm not so despicable that I wouldn't hold up my end of a deal. Was it not I who healed your son when no one else could?"

"Well, yes, that's true—"

"—Look at that radio in your hand, Raeven-san. That is a piece of technology so sufficiently advanced that to you, it seems like a magic artifact. It has the ability to allow voices to travel through it for uncounted miles past even the most powerful of anti-eavesdropping magics. To a member of a mages guild, it would be a priceless artifact of study. But in reality, it is nothing more than a few pieces of worthless metal and glass arranged in a clever way. Not a single spell went into its creation.

That is my power, Marquis Raeven, I can use a kind of magic that disobeys all the known laws of your paltry universe. I could raze this kingdom to the ground in a second if I wished for it. But luckily for you, I'm a little more level headed. Unlike Jaldabaoth who simply destroys and plunders, I simply wish to create and enrich. And so, I find myself being forced to play this nonsensical game of intrigue with a sixteen-year-old girl in a dress."

Rhamnusia outstretched his armored hand, clad in black. "For the sake of this kingdom, I offer to train a few dozen of your men in the use of 'sufficiently advanced technology'. If you shake my hand, all six legions of the Baharuth empire will be at your mercy."

Rhamnusia's hand hung in the air between them for a long time, half concealed by the shadows of the alleyway.

Raeven took his time contemplating his options. He trusted that Rhamnusia's power was real. However… If I shake his hand, that would mean betraying her highness.

"Excuse me Rhamnusia-san. As tempting as the offer sounds, I'm unsure if I actually have the relevant information you desire. It's true that I have been meeting with her highness privately, but our discussions are not as uh… incriminating, as you suggest. The Gray Wolf likely knows more than me in that regard."

"That is fine." Rhamnusia said. "Anything you know might help me, even if you don't know it yourself. All I ask is that you be truthful. Also, this should already go unspoken, but don't go telling Renner about any of this and keep that radio to yourself."

"…I understand," Raven retreated into thought once more. If I do what is best for the kingdom, then is that really betraying her highness's interests? If Rhamnusia's assistance is revealed to have been invaluable after the war, then surely she would forgive me… The image of Gazef's grave expression flashed through his mind.

No, Rhamnusia's assistance will be invaluable. Yes, even if she doesn't forgive me, my loyalty lies with Re-Estize not princess Renner. I must do what I know to be best for the kingdom.

Raeven shook the demon's hand. "I accept your offer."

And so, Raeven began to recite in order everything he remembered from his meetings with Renner. It was mostly just plans for large business transactions and some minor scheming to mess with the noble faction.

Much to Rhamnusia's disappointment, ultimately nothing of value was gained.

...

The building was located on the outskirts of E-Pespel, near to where foodstuffs would be brought into the city from its satellite villages. This was because it had once been a slaughter house.

The previous owner had no living family members or a written will so the property was seized by the city after his death, where it then went on to sit dormant for several years. Naturally, it slowly fell into disrepair.

Over that period of time, rumors began to arise about the auspicious building; Strange noises emanating from it during the night, brief sightings of undead walking the warehouse floor. The general consensus was that it was haunted, cursed by the souls of the thousands of animals slaughtered within.

The city had conducted a full scale investigation of course, after all, undead were a very real treat. But in the end, nothing was ever found, and the rumors were chalked up to paranoia and overactive imaginations.

But even after being declared perfectly safe by the city, the minds and hearts of people were hard to change, and children were taught to keep their distance. And needless to say, no one wanted to buy it.

At least, that was until it was sold to the Gray Wolf with great enthusiasm for a meager sum. He actually would've been willing to pay much more for it, after all, the rumors surrounding the building made for the perfect camouflage for what he had in mind for it. But as far as anyone else was concerned, he was just doing the city a favor and taking it off their hands and turning it into a steel foundry.

Moot village was a small village isolated far off in the countryside which made it a great place to practice science secrecy. The down side of that however was that there was a hard limit to the sheer volume of resources that could be processed and moved. And so came about the need to move certain operations to a larger city where resources could be imported, processed, and stockpiled with much greater efficiency.

"Just guide it over there to the rest, lass. I'll have the bone heads take care of it later."

Vera nodded to the blacksmith and guided a heavy cartload through the large doors at the back of the foundry. Large chunks of white rock could be seen poking through the tarp in the back of the cart. It was salt she had picked up upon request on her way over.

It would be thrown into a large vat and dissolved down later and be used to create vast quantities of chlorine gas. The process for doing so also created large amounts of hydrogen gas, oxygen gas, and sodium hydroxide, but all those had many other uses in their own right and would not be wasted.

She finished guiding the cart and hopped down from the seat. "How's everything going, Faber?"

"Ah— Not so fast." As Vera approached him, Faber raised his hand and pointed to the mask he was wearing. "Safety first."

"Oh, of course…" Vera went back to the cart to retrieve a gasmask.

"By the way lass, how is Stockwell doing? The boy and I haven't seen him for a while and have been meaning to talk to him about some things. It concerns a couple projects."

Vera began fishing around in a compartment underneath the driver's seat, looking for her gasmask. "He's doing fine… I think. I haven't seen him in some time either. He was here in E-Pespel a couple weeks ago but he was just coordinating a few business things. All I've heard of him other than that is his muffled voice through the radio."

Faber sighed. "I can't say I blame the man for being absent. We've all become a lot busier lately."

"You can say that again." Vera found her mask and motioned to put it on. But as she did so, a knot of hair got tangled in it and painfully yanked her head. "—Youch!"

Faber chuckled. "Sorry lass, but you know how he is with workplace safety. Gas masks are to be worn by workers at all times."

She straightened her hair and adjusted her mask. "For the living workers, that is. "

Of course, Faber and Vera were not the only ones in the foundry at the moment. Such a huge foundry couldn't possibly be manned by two people.

The wide floors that had once been quartered off in the past to pen cattle were now being used to support mechanical behemoths of every shape in size: Swimming pool sized vats of bubbling liquid undergoing electrolysis, immense steel chambers filled with pressurized gasses of unknown composition, boilers bulging under pressure, and thick electrical cables crisscrossing in every conceivable direction.

And while the scene could've perhaps looked hazardous to the untrained eye, upon closer inspection, one could tell that there was indeed a deliberate attention to safety, such as the flood channel that would guide liquids in the event of a vat bursting as well as the heavily insulated cabling. Of course, these safety precautions were only there for the humans who would be spending time in the foundry; they were more or less useless for the majority of the workers.

The crew totaled to around 50 skeletons: reappropriated bones from people killed by Jaldabaoth during the demonic disturbance and members of the Eight-Fingers who started to ask too many questions. Each of them had been given a single, succinct task that they carried out restlessly and undoubtedly, be it turning a crank or barehanding caustic materials.

One thing in particular caught Vera's eye. "Is that new? I don't remember it being that color..."

Her gaze fell on a section of pale green piping that stood in stark contrast against the gray steel pipes and boilers. It was the steam turbine that supplied electrical energy to the entirety of the foundry.

"That's right, you helped set up the electrical in the first place. We exchanged the turbine yesterday."

"You… exchanged it?"

Faber's lips curled humorously behind his mask. "Do I hear a little bit of distress in your voice?"

Vera felt herself blush. After all, she had worked quite hard with the blacksmith and Stockwell to help them establish the turbine and electrical system. The fact that the turbine had been changed without her knowledge was a small slight on her pride. "...Maybe a little."

The blacksmith laughed heartily and slapped her hard on the back. "Bwah ha ha! It's nothing like that. All the wiring you and Mr. Stockwell did was kept the same. All we did was replace the steel that made up the turbine and its housing with mythril. It was an idea that I came up with to increase its efficiency."

"How's changing out the metal supposed to increase its efficiency?"

His eyes narrowed and a grin started to form behind his mask. A small joy began leaking into his chest.

It was a feeling he had encountered several times before over his life as a blacksmith, but it only ever came in fleeting amounts. It usually only happened whenever he was forced to figure out a creative way to forge a particularly difficult piece with the tools he had on him at the time.

But with the arrival of the scientist and his projects of ever increasing complexity, he had been feeling it more and more.

It wasn't quite the joy of learning or discovery that came with pure science like Niven experienced. Nor was it simply the joy of taking on great challenges and overcoming them. It was something in between, and thanks to Stockwell, he finally had a word for it.

Engineering.

Yes, engineering. The applied sciences, technology, the ultimate expression of knowledge. One could learn everything there was to know about the universe, but without the ability to apply that knowledge, what good was it?

And even if he wasn't the most creative mind out there, his years at the forge at least allowed him the experience necessary to translate the ideas in his head to the metal in front of him.

"Mythril deforms and expands less when heated than steel, so that means we can greatly reduce the clearance that would normally be between the turbine and its housing when we start the generator. Because of that, much more steam is able to contact the turbine and thus get it to max speed faster. It also helps that Mythril is roughly the same density as the steel we use, that way I didn't have to change any of the gearings."

Vera pondered quietly, "...is that so."

The engineer smiled toothfully, "It is indeed. Just a little bit of practical engineering is all!"

Vera couldn't help but smile at the man's youthful enthusiasm. "I'm impressed. Anyways, I came by to check on the weapons. I radioed you about them."

Faber nodded. "Production is greater than expected, but that's only because I didn't account for the fact that the bone heads work 24/7. The bulk of them are stored in the old ice storage underground. They just need to be filled."

"Awesome. Wesley radioed me a little earlier, he said that if everything was ready to go then we should load them onto wagons and join in with the rest of the convoy heading to E-Rantel for the war effort."

Faber scratched his beard. "Hmmm… It'll still take a little bit of time before everything's ready. Is that alright? Also, I'd rather be getting back to Moot soon, I still have that one project to work on and the boy says he's on the cusp of perfecting that mixture for me."

"Yeah, that's fine. Wesley's supposed to rendezvous with the convoy at a point just outside E-Rantel, so it's more of just a matter of merging with the convoy in time. We've got time to spare." Vera started heading back to the cart. "I was planning on going alone anyway since I'm operating as Rhamnusia's subordinate at the moment."

She smiled at Faber from underneath her mask. "I'll go arrange the wagons. Have a safe trip to Moot."

"Thanks lass, and I wish you luck in this war."

"Yep!"

…

Niven never expected to find himself inside one of these types of stores. It was located just outside of E-Rantel proper, and it was one of those stores that adventurers went to buy supplies.

He pulled his finger out of the tar and watched enthusiastically as the black, viscous liquid slowly fell back down into the bucket. "...master said the stickiness is caused by the van der waal forces between long chained hydrocarbons. How cool!"

An annoyed voice called to him from the front of the store. "Don't you think you're a little bit too excited about watching pitch drop, kid?"

"You can never be too excited about science, mister!" Niven hopped up to the counter. "What do people usually use this oil for?"

"It's thick and sticky and burns like hellfire, so adventurers like to fill capsules filled with them and use them as throwing weapons. Rogues and the like. I also sometimes get military people in here inquiring about naval and defensive- Hey! Are you planning on sticking your whole arm in there!?"

Niven wiped the cheesy smile on his face and pulled his hand out of the bucket. He muttered under his breath. "...it was for science." He wiped his hand off with a handkerchief. "Ahem… so mister, where does this oil come from?"

"… crazy kid… It comes from the elf country down south. They probably have whole lots of it since they sell it pretty cheap."

"How much do you have?"

"More than enough for you kid."

Niven grinned evilly. "Are you sure about that?"

The shopkeeper eyed him cautiously, "...How much do you need?"

"Wait here." Niven bounded out of the store to his wagon. He came back several moments later rolling in several empty barrels.

He smiled proudly. "I'll take as much as you can give me."

The shopkeeper stared at him blankly. "I uh… er… What in the Gods' names does a kind like you need that much oil for? Can you even pay?"

"I need it for a special project I'm working on, super hi-tech stuff. And yes, I can pay. Master made sure to give me lots of money." He leafed through his satchel and withdrew several gold coins.

"...Well I'll be…"

…

Everything had gone off without a hitch. The drivers were paid off and the weapons were on route behind her.

The only problem was that it had been a long trip and —damn this is uncomfortable.

She found herself quite cramped amongst the wooden floor and crates inside the cabin of the covered wagon, but that was a small price to pay for the freedom of inconspicuousness. No one would be able to see its contents nor tell them apart from the hundreds of other wagons heading to the staging area just outside of E-Rantel. Hiring a proper carriage would have defeated the point of keeping a low profile so she had no choice but to huddle in the back of one of the wagons.

She calculated that they had passed the rendezvous point quite some time, and she began to worry.

And, just as she was about to consider getting out and looking for Stockwell, the crates sloshed forward as the wagon came to sudden stop. She then felt the wagon dip and creak, a sign that someone stepped into the cabin.

"Wesley!"

Stepping into the shaded cabin was the familiar black cloak and gasmask she had helped to make herself. "Why hello there, sorry about the late arrival. I needed to make sure I wasn't being followed." Stockwell removed his mask, revealing a humorous glint behind his green eyes. "I see you've made yourself at home."

Vera soon realized what the glint in his eye was all about. In her never ending battle to find a comfortable position amongst the crates during the journey, she had adopted a posture... unbecoming of a young woman, to say the least.

She quickly blushed and sat up. "S-Sorry."

"Not at all, it was a long trip after all." Stockwell found a spot opposite of her to sit and the wagon began to move once more. After a little while, he unfurled a piece of parchment with scribbles all over it. He frowned in concentration. "...Damn that Renner, this can't be everything she told Raeven…"

"Ummm, Wesley?"

"Yeah, yeah, sorry, I'll talk to you in a second. I'm just still trying to figure all this out. It's all the information I managed to get from Raeven. — damnit. Renner and Demiurge were a step ahead of us. They've been limiting Raeven's information."

Stockwell rubbed his temples in frustration. "I'll take a look at this again later." He returned the parchment to his pocket. He smiled at Vera. "How are you doing? Long time no see."

Vera smiled, "Less lonely now that you're here."

Stockwell leaned back against the wall of the cabin and sighed . "We should arrive at the staging area soon. There'll be a hundred or so men there waiting for us to show them how to use the weapons. It's best we get some rest while we can, we'll need to be on constant lookout for spies."