The "grey powder" was only the beginning. With the corporate vaults overflowing from cement and brick sales, Aine Aevon looked toward the next phase of vertical integration: Infrastructure.
Under the cover of the Northern mists, the Aen Seidhe engineers—now veteran industrial foremen—laid down the first miles of steel. The people of Redania and the outskirts of Novigrad watched in confusion as "iron paths" were hammered into the earth. They mocked the folly of the "Alder Golems" laying tracks that led nowhere, until the first Steam Engine roared to life.
The sight of a smoke-belching, iron beast screaming through the countryside at speeds that would kill a horse terrified the peasants. But fear quickly turned to greed. When a journey from the Pontar Delta to the Far North—a trek that once took weeks of mud and monster-infested misery—was reduced to a single, safe day in a pressurized carriage, the Alder Railroads became the most essential service on the Continent.
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[CORPORATE REVENUE: EXTREME SURGE]
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Aine Aevon sat in his office, watching the data streams. The railroads were profitable, but they were also a vulnerability. He knew the history of this world; he knew that Witchers, Alchemists, and Mages were often victims of the very people they served. The moment a mob didn't understand something, they called it "unholy" and burned it.
"I will not be a 'mutant' in their eyes," Aine whispered, his Aen Elle eyes glowing in the dark. "I will be the source of their enlightenment."
With the new funds, he launched the Alder Private School Initiative. He didn't build these schools in the human cities where Kings could seize them. He built them in the heart of the Unclaimed North.
If the youth of the Continent wanted to learn the "New Truths," they had to board an Alder train and travel to his territory. Thousands of sons and daughters of merchants and minor nobles flocked to the North. Inside Aine's halls, he demystified his knowledge. He didn't teach "spells"—he taught Thermodynamics. He didn't teach "Alchemy"—he taught Chemical Engineering.
By teaching the world exactly how his machines worked, he stripped away the "mysticism" that led to fear. You don't burn a steam engine if you know exactly which valve to turn. You don't hunt a tall Elf if he is the one who taught your son how to calculate the strength of a steel beam. He was providing a future that was logical, repeatable, and—most importantly—profitable for everyone involved.
"Knowledge is the ultimate Non-Aggression Principle," Aine mused. "They won't bite the hand that feeds them the future."
******
The Lodge of Sorceresses and the Church of the Eternal Fire did not sit idly by as their monopolies on power crumbled. They sent their most subtle spies—novices with sharp minds and hidden agendas—to enroll in the Alder Schools. They expected to find dark rituals, forbidden pacts, or perhaps a new form of sorcery that bypassed the need for Chaos.
Instead, they found Aine Aevon's curriculum to be something far more dangerous: Reason.
The reports back to Philippa Eilhart and the Hierarch were identical. "There are no spells here," one spy wrote. "They do not draw from the Ley Lines. They teach 'mortal knowledge'—the way steam expands, the way metal reacts to carbon, the way mathematics can predict the path of a stone. They call it 'Physics' and 'Logic.' And it is spreading like a plague."
Realising that this "mortal knowledge" was not heretical magic but advanced utility, the Church of the Eternal Fire made a tactical pivot. Fearing they would be left behind by the Alder Corporation's growing influence, they began sending their own chosen youth to the North. They aimed to master these "holy machines" to ensure the Church remained relevant in an era of steel and steam.
The Lodge, however, was shaken. For centuries, they had looked down on "mundane" humans and non-humans as primitive. Now, they watched as a tall Elf turned peasants into engineers who could build bridges and engines that rivalled the feats of master mages.
"If they can bridge the seas and move mountains without a single drop of Chaos," Yennefer of Vengerberg noted during a secret gathering, "then we are no longer necessary. We are becoming relics."
Driven by the fear of being surpassed by non-magical means, the Lodge accelerated their own research, desperately trying to blend their spells with the logic Aine Aevon had introduced. They were in a race they had never expected to run: a race against The Machine.
Meanwhile, in the heart of the Unclaimed North, Aine Aevon watched the enrollment numbers climb. He saw the Church's white-cloaked youths sitting next to elven engineers.
"Let them learn," Aine whispered, his cold eyes fixed on a holographic Quasimorph interface. "The more they understand the machine, the less they believe in miracles. And once the miracles are gone, only the Contract remains."
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[CORPORATE INFLUENCE: EXPANDING]
[TECTONIC SHIFT: ENLIGHTENMENT ERA INITIATED]