The river didn't want to be tamed. It fought the wooden paddles, foaming and roaring against the new constraints.
Ronan stood waist-deep in the freezing water, his teeth chattering, holding the main axle in place.
"Now!" he screamed over the noise of the water. "Drop the pins!"
Kennos and a new carpenter named Miller slammed the iron retaining pins into the stone housing they had built on the riverbank.
Ronan scrambled up the muddy bank, shivering. He watched.
The water hit the paddles. The great wooden wheel groaned. It hesitated. Then, with a wet creak, it turned.
And turned again.
Inside the small stone millhouse they had erected, the heavy iron cam-shaft began to spin.
Thump. The trip-hammer rose.
Crash. It fell onto the anvil.
Thump. Crash. Thump. Crash.
It was a heartbeat. It was the sound of a hundred men hammering, achieved by gravity alone.
Ronan wiped the river water from his face. The blue text overlay bloomed in his vision, brighter than usual.
[Milestone Achieved: The First Engine]
[Industrial Era: Water Power Unlocked]
[Reward:] You have altered the physics of your domain.
[Select One Special Ability:]
1. [Titan's Grip]: You can wield heavy industrial tools as if they were light weapons. (Strength +5).
2. [The Architect's Eye]: You can see the stress points and structural weaknesses in any building... or any person. (Perception +10).
3. [Sovereign's Aura]: Once per day, your voice carries absolute authority. Even enemies must pause to listen. (Charisma +10).
Ronan stared at the options. Strength was useful. Charisma was necessary for a Lord. But The Architect's Eye? To see the weakness in a wall? Or the weak point in a man's armor? That was power.
"I choose the Eye," he whispered.
A sharp pain spiked behind his eyes, then vanished. When he blinked, the world looked... sharper. He looked at the water wheel. He could see a faint red line on one of the paddles where the wood had a hidden knot. It would break in three weeks. He knew it instantly.
"My Lord!" Varrick called out from the path. "Riders!"
Ronan turned. He looked up the path and saw a small retinue approaching. They flew a banner: A silver fist on a red field. House Glover.
At the head of the party rode a woman. She was young, perhaps seventeen, with dark hair tied back in a severe, practical braid. She wore riding leathers, not a dress, and a thick fur cloak.
This was Lady Elara Glover, niece of the Master of Deepwood Motte.
Ronan stepped forward, water dripping from his clothes. He didn't look like a Lord; he looked like a drowned rat.
Elara pulled her horse up, looking down at him with cool, grey eyes. She looked at the churning water wheel, then at the smoking forge, then finally at Ronan.
"Lord Ronan," she said, her voice crisp. "My uncle sent me to inquire about the noise. He says it sounds like a giant is beating the earth with a club. It is disturbing the game in the Wolfswood."
"It's a trip-hammer, Lady Elara," Ronan said. He noticed a faint red glow around her saddle girth. The leather is worn, his new Eye told him. It will snap if she gallops.
"A trip-hammer?" She raised an eyebrow. "And why is a Lord standing in the river like a common laborer?"
"Because the laborer doesn't know the geometry of the axle," Ronan said, wringing out his shirt sleeves. "And because winter is coming. I don't have time to be dry."
Elara laughed, a short, sharp sound. "You are as strange as the rumors say. They say you are digging up the earth and feeding your peasants like kings. They say you have gone mad."
"Madness is doing the same thing and expecting different results," Ronan quoted a memory from a world she didn't know. "I am doing something new."
He walked over to the horse, reaching out. Her guard tensed, hand going to his sword.
"My Lady," Ronan said softly. "Your saddle girth. The buckle is cracked."
"Nonsense," she said. "It is new leather."
"Look," Ronan pointed to the stress fracture invisible to the naked eye, but glowing red to him. "If you ride hard home, you will fall."
Elara frowned, dismounting gracefully. She checked the buckle. She twisted it. It snapped in her hands.
She looked up at him, her eyes wide with sudden surprise. The cool disdain was gone, replaced by a flicker of curiosity.
"How did you know that?"
"I know how things are built," Ronan said, meeting her gaze. "And how they break."
[Relation Update: Elara Glover]
[Status: Intrigued]
[Potential Romance Route: Unlocked]
"My smith can fix that for you," Ronan offered. "While you wait... are you hungry? We have fresh bread. White bread, milled today by the river."
"White bread?" Elara scoffed. "In the North? Peasants eat black bread, Lord Ronan."
"Not my peasants," Ronan said, turning back to the mill which was thumping rhythmically. "Come. I'll show you the future."
She hesitated, then threw her reins to her guard. She followed him.
For the first time, Ronan wasn't just building a machine. He was building an alliance. And perhaps, looking at the way she walked with confident, dangerous grace, he was building something more.
Status Update:
• New Ability: [The Architect's Eye] (See Weaknesses).
• New Character: Lady Elara Glover (Potential Romance/Political Ally).
• Infrastructure: Water Mill (Operational).