The carriage rattled rhythmically, a lonely sound against the howling winds of the northern wastes. Inside, the air was cold, but the atmosphere was heavier with Olivia's silence.
"Princess, please... you must eat something," Sophia, Olivia's loyal personal maid, whispered as she tucked a thick wool blanket around her mistress's knees. "Do not let that scumbag Robert steal your spirit. You learned his true nature before the vows were spoken. In a way, it is a blessing."
Beside the carriage window, the old Royal Butler, Marcus, who had insisted on accompanying Olivia into exile, nodded solemnly. "The girl speaks the truth, Your Highness. The Steel family may lack the gold and the shimmering mana of the Greenwoods, but they are a house of steel and bone. Young Master George is known to be a man of character—humble, moral, and steady. He will not betray you."
Olivia didn't answer. Her gaze was fixed on the two letters clutched in her lap—one from her father, the Emperor, and one from her brother, Edward. "Do not open these until you reach the duchy," they had commanded.
Suddenly, the carriage slowed. "We have reached the border wall, Princess," the driver called out, his voice trembling with confusion.
Olivia looked out the window and gasped. Towering over the desolate landscape was a massive, seamless wall of dark, matte-grey metal. Standing at the gates were guards unlike any knights Olivia had seen. They didn't wear the ornate capes or the glowing mana-crested plate armor of the capital. These men were encased in strange black armor with smooth, terrifying black helmets. At their hips were swords of a frighteningly sharp steel, but in their hands, they held long, black pipe-like artifacts.
Olivia, a master of combat, looked for the glow of an enchantment or the shimmer of a mana-stone on the weapons. There was nothing. The pipes were cold, dull, and entirely non-magical, yet the guards held them with a terrifying level of discipline.
The guards checked the royal seal and gave a sharp hand signal. The massive iron gates slid open with a low, powerful hum. As they passed through, the "poor" wasteland vanished.
Inside, the world was transformed. There were carriages moving without horses, sleek and metallic, gliding over roads as smooth as glass. Golem-like artifacts made of bronze and copper moved heavy crates with effortless grace. Even the commoners they passed carried tools and weapons—axes, sticks, and shields—that looked familiar yet possessed a strange, polished aesthetic that felt vastly superior to the capital's craft.
A man in a sharp, charcoal-grey suit stood waiting by a long, black metallic artifact-carriage. "I am the Head Butler of the Steel House," he said with a polite bow. "Please, Princess, step inside. Master George is expecting you."
Olivia stepped into the artifact. It was longer than the others, lined with plush leather. As she sat, the structure began to move with a soft purr. There was no jolting, no sound of hooves.
Panicked, Olivia immediately channeled a Low-Level Magic Sight, her eyes glowing ruby as she scanned the interior for the mana-strings that must be powering it.
Her heart skipped a beat.
There was no mana. No ley-line connections. No alchemical residue. The "carriage," the lights, and those strange pipe-weapons were completely devoid of magic. By every law she knew, these artifacts shouldn't be moving.
Her attention flickered to the two letters in her hand. The mystery of the duchy was overwhelming, but she chose to keep her eyes on the window for now, watching this impossible civilization unfold before she faced the words of her family.
******
The carriage had been left behind at the massive iron gates, replaced by a long, black metallic vessel that hummed with a low, predatory vibration. As it glided forward, Olivia, Sophia, and Marcus pressed their faces to the glass, their breath fogging the windows of the impossible artifact.
"Princess, look at the ground!" Sophia gasped, pointing at the path beneath them.
They weren't on dirt or cobblestone anymore. The road was a solid black ribbon—a seamless, dark path that looked as if it had been poured like liquid iron, yet it was smooth enough to let this vessel move without a single jolt.
Outside, the "poor" wasteland Olivia had expected was nowhere to be seen. Instead of wooden hovels, she saw grand, sturdy houses made of small, rectangular red stones stacked with perfect precision, held together by a hard, grey grit.
But what shocked Olivia most was the life. In a territory known for being a desolate graveyard, the streets were lined with lush, towering trees, vibrant flowerbeds, and meticulously decorated greenery. The plants were thick and healthy, their leaves a deep, waxy green that seemed to defy the harsh northern climate. The city was a marvel of order, pulsing with a life she didn't understand. Men in stiff, tall hats and tailored coats walked the sidewalks, passing by these beautifully landscaped gardens.
On the ground, the road was teeming with metal artifacts. There were shorter, boxy ones, larger ones with open beds carrying supplies, and even some that looked like heavy iron carriages without tops. Some people balanced on two-wheeled metal skeletons that hummed like angry bees, weaving through the traffic with terrifying speed.
Suddenly, a massive shadow passed over the vehicle. High above, a giant, cigar-shaped silhouette with spinning blades drifted through the clouds. Nearby, a smaller, bird-like object with fixed wings—a jagged, metallic shape—shrieked through the air, leaving a trail of white vapor behind.
"Is that a sky-beast?" Sophia shrieked, ducking away from the window. "Princess, is that a silver dragon?"
Olivia didn't answer. Her warrior instincts were screaming. She channeled her Magic Sight, her eyes burning a fierce ruby red as she scanned the sky, the ground-level artifacts, and the very vehicle they sat in for the mana-strings that surely powered such wonders.
Nothing.
The void was absolute. There was no ley-line energy, no alchemical residue, no shimmer of enchantment. By all the laws of the Trayagon Empire, these constructs should be cold, dead hunks of metal.
"A world without magic..." Olivia whispered, her heart racing. "How can it move? How can the trees even grow like this?"
The Steel butler, who had remained silent during their shock, finally spoke as the long vehicle slowed down in front of a sprawling, magnificent manor.
"You look confused, Your Highness," he said with a professional bow. "Those are Zeppelins and Prototype Planes in the sky. This road is Asphalt. These houses are built of Bricks and Cement. This vehicle is a Car—a Limousine, to be precise. The others you see are Trucks, Scooters, and Motorbikes. And those buildings with the smoke? Those are Factories where these Machines are built."
Olivia sat back, her head spinning as the limousine carried them closer to the massive urban landscape ahead. She looked down at the two letters clutched in her hand. The mystery of the Steel Duchy was no longer a rumor of poverty; it was a revelation of a power the Empire didn't even know existed.