Chapter 493: The Merchant
A caravan traveled north along the narrow Anzeta Corridor, heading toward Romulo City, the southernmost point of the Empire's heartland.
Leading the convoy was Josef Salazar, a renowned merchant of the Thrace Kingdom, one of the key figures of the Pearson Merchant Guild, and the head of trade negotiations with the Ember Empire.
Rumor had it that he possessed one-sixteenth elven blood, making him more handsome than most and granting him a youthful appearance. Though over fifty, he still looked like a man in his thirties.
At this moment, Josef tapped his cane against the ground impatiently as he gazed at the seemingly endless valley. "How much longer until we arrive?"
"My lord, once we exit the Anzeta Corridor, we will reach the heartland of the Ember Empire."
His guard responded.
"That's basic knowledge!"
Josef was irritated.
"This trade route has been open for years, and yet you still aren't familiar with the surroundings!"
"Lord Josef, this is our first time..."
The guard forced an apologetic smile, continuously offering apologies until Josef's anger slightly subsided.
In reality, a teleportation array in Tahan City could have directly transported him to Isthalia, but Josef had refused the offer under the pretense of "seeking business opportunities."
Of course, that was merely an excuse. Besides being a merchant leader, Josef had another identity—he was the "white glove" of Prince Bowers, the eldest son of King Wilhelm.
Through his ties with the prince, Josef gained insider information for profit, managed illicit affairs, and accumulated wealth on behalf of his royal patron.
Despite the increasing trade between Thrace and the Ember Empire, Thrace was preoccupied with war, and most transactions were handled entirely by the Empire's Southern Continent Trade Company. All Thrace had to do was wait for the shipments to arrive in the south.
Furthermore, the Ember Empire's strict security and advanced intelligence network meant that Thrace's leadership knew very little about the inner workings of the Empire.
Josef's true mission on this trip was espionage: mapping terrain, scouting fortifications, assessing military strength, and acquiring blueprints of weaponry.
To better achieve these goals, he had hired a local guide from Tahan City—Heria Gatti.
This guide was strikingly beautiful, yet Josef couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that her pupils resembled those of a reptile, exuding a subtle yet undeniable danger.
"Mr. Josef, don't worry. We will reach Isthalia before nightfall, and we won't have to walk through the entire Anzeta Corridor."
Heria approached from behind, her voice gentle.
Josef frowned in suspicion. "Why not?"
Heria smiled, extending her hand forward. "Ahead lies the Anzeta Corridor Station. We'll take the steam locomotive to Isthalia."
"Steam locomotive..."
He had heard of this term before—it was an exclusive Imperial transportation method, said to be highly efficient.
Following her gaze, Josef saw a cleared area ahead, where metal rails stretched across the valley floor, disappearing into the distance.
The steel tracks were smooth, uniform in color, and devoid of hammer marks, dents, or cracks—clearly high-quality material.
"Such fine steel... just laid on the ground?"
Josef was stunned. Even the former Holy Fadlan Empire wouldn't have been so extravagant.
Heria chuckled. "Mr. Josef, the Empire's steel production far exceeds your imagination. They gather all scrap metal and raw iron into massive furnaces."
"Besides, all of this belongs to His Majesty. No one within the Empire would dare steal from him."
Josef quickly adjusted his expression, feigning composure. "I had assumed Anzeta to be a remote and barren land, but it seems it's more prosperous than I expected."
"Still, compared to the former Holy Fadlan, it is nothing noteworthy."
"Whooo—!"
A whistle sounded as a steel behemoth, shrouded in rolling steam, thundered into view and came to a halt before them.
Everyone except Heria gawked in shock—even Josef.
Some guards, thinking they were under attack, instinctively raised their shields in defense.
"Relax, everyone. That is the Empire's steam locomotive."
Heria smiled and gestured invitingly. "Please board, Mr. Josef."
"No need to be embarrassed—this is how everyone reacts the first time they see it."
Josef shut his mouth and forced a stiff smile. "Compared to Fadlan's Iron Sentinels, this is hardly impressive."
He quickly changed the topic. "Does this steam train serve ordinary citizens, or is it reserved for the elite? And what about our cargo?"
Heria patiently replied, "The steam locomotive is a gift from His Majesty to all citizens. For a modest fee, anyone can use it—it's highly accessible."
"A poet once said that His Majesty forged steel to bridge mountains and plateaus, bringing people closer together."
She smiled before continuing, "As for your cargo? You needn't worry—this locomotive can transport up to 300 tons of goods."
"These steel giants race back and forth across the Empire, shipping thousands of tons of merchandise every month to every corner of Feanso."
Josef wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief and muttered, "That is... quite convenient."
Yet in his mind, he thought about the Ember Empire's military logistics.
Not every region had a permanent teleportation array—such magical constructs were expensive to build and maintain.
But these steam locomotives could transport hundreds of tons, and mobilizing soldiers would be even easier.
In other words, at the Emperor's command, the Empire's entire military could swiftly converge on the south—a nightmare scenario for Thrace.
And these magical constructs were available for commoners? Even the former Holy Fadlan would never have done something so foolish.
Josef thought grimly.
After paying the twenty-one gold knals fare, the nearly hundred-strong caravan boarded the train, while their goods were loaded into the freight cars.
"Whooo—!"
With a piercing whistle and a plume of smoke, the steam locomotive surged forward, racing northward.
It wasn't slow. Before long, it had exited the Anzeta Corridor and truly entered the vast Anzeta Wasteland.
Josef gazed out the window, discreetly recording with a memory crystal disguised as a medal. But the rapid movement meant he could capture only fleeting glimpses.
Suddenly, he squinted.
"Is that... farmland?"
Beyond the horizon lay vast, meticulously cultivated fields, stretching to infinity, with neat furrows carved into the fertile soil.
"Compared to the Central Plains farmlands, this is barely..."
His words froze as his eyes widened in shock.
Massive steel behemoths with enormous wheels moved through the fields, their wide "mouths" tilling the earth and sowing seeds.
Thick smoke billowed from their backs, creating an utterly surreal sight.
Magic.
This had to be magic.
These magic-deprived Anzetans were using precious magical constructs... for mundane, menial farm work?
What kind of world was this?
They were using magical constructs for this?
Even in the former Holy Fadlan, spellcasters held noble status—they would never be used for such menial labor.
As if sensing Josef's astonishment, Heria said, "That is the Unified Seeder, another gift from His Majesty."
She gazed at the distant farmlands with reverence. "Anzeta was once shrouded in hunger and cold. Now, we no longer struggle to survive."
"These fields are nothing—the grandest is the Matra Farmlands in the north."
"Years ago, His Majesty personally reshaped the land, raising mountains to block the northern winds, revealing endless black soil beneath the ice."
"Today, 70% of the Empire's food supply comes from Matra."
Her voice took on a devout fervor.
Josef, meanwhile, was utterly stunned.
Reshaping landscapes?
Creating mountains?
If true, such feats were beyond even legendary spellcasters—this was magic of the highest tier.
He hadn't even reached Isthalia, yet the journey had already shaken him to his core.
An empire brimming with ambition—would it truly be content with only Anzeta and Kartpa?