The morning sun hadn't quite burned through the low fog as Baron Gorath descended the steps of Maddach Manor alongside Calculor Cheng.
As they walked along the stone path, a gleaming mana-assisted carriage awaited—sleek, wide, its hull plated in deep onyx steel trimmed with gold. Four powerful horses stood in front of it, their bridles etched with glowing blue runes.
Though the horses were present, they weren't truly pulling the carriage.
They merely assisted in it, helping the carriage rider in guiding the carriage in the right direction.
While the carriage itself used mana to move for the most part, it didn't depend much on the strength of the horses.
Meaning that all the horses had to worry about was looking as beautiful as they could be.
And that was their only purpose—a fashion statement.
Most of the carriage had a regal blue look to it. While this partially served as a pleasing aesthetic, it was also the mana fuel that drove it.
Matter of fact, most carriages could already be driven without a horse.
Only needing one human driver to control it.
However, horses and carriages had for a long time been part of the image of a traditional escort.
And the nobles loved the look.
This particular model was top-tier. Smooth-gliding, reinforced, and warded against minor projectiles.
Even if the outer wheels jittered across rough road, the mana stabilizers inside made sure that the ride for those inside felt like everything was as smooth as butter.
Baron Gorath approached it, his black-gloved hands clasped behind his back.
Calculor Cheng matched his pace. Just behind them followed two others: Malik, Gorath's personal knight and commander of the household guard, and Volker, a taciturn advisor whose presence alone was a warning to anyone watching.
Together, the four entered the carriage.
Inside was a study in quiet extravagance—more private lounge than transport vehicle.
The seat was made with clean matte velvet leather, stitched into shape with gold string.
Force-resistant glass served as a window, while also reducing the amount of sunlight in the carriage.
If you were in a carriage like this, make sure to bring along a jacket or a cloth.
Because inside, a cooling system ensured it was never hot, or even warm.
A tray stood on a thin titan—
Thick velvet seating curved along the walls in a half-moon. Gilded glass sconces glowed with soft amber light. A floating tray hovered in the center, fixed in place by mana suspension, holding sliced meats, cheese, and a full crystal decanter of dark plum brandy. Even the subtle scent of warmed spices in the air hinted at invisible charms keeping everything in perfect condition.
As the door shut behind them, the noise of the outside world vanished.
Malik dropped into one of the seats with a satisfied grunt. "Still gets me every time," he muttered, stretching his legs. "Outside it's like a wagon on cobblestone. Inside? Bloody palace."
Volker nodded once, silent, and reached for a glass.
Baron Gorath settled in slowly, letting his back rest against the soft seat, and his hands on his thighs.
His sharp eyes drifted over the interior before landing on Cheng.
"We're heading to Lockewright Industries," he said plainly. "I assume I should know who Locke Wright actually is."
Cheng folded his hands over the table, slightly fidgeting with his fingers.
"He was born a peasant, my lord," he said. "Son of a blacksmith. Worked under contract for minor nobles in the southern marches. Helped manage supply lines—budget outfitting, mostly."
"Budget?"
"He found ways to build weapons cheaply," Cheng explained. "Scrap-forging, enchantment simplification. Unattractive designs, but functional. Reliable. Sold well with small lords who couldn't afford the major armories."
The Baron raised one eyebrow.
"But it wasn't weapons that made him rich," Cheng continued. "He pivoted to agricultural enchantments. Farming tools. Enchanted tillers. Weather-resilient seeders. Things peasants could afford. His designs were cheap, modular, easy to repair."
"Peasants buying enchantments," Gorath mused. "That's new."
"Which is why he's rich," Cheng said. "One of the wealthiest commoners in our territory now."
Malik leaned forward, placing his glass on the tray. "He trained with me," he said. "When we were younger. That man fought in real battles. He knows what matters in a fight—and what doesn't."
Gorath studied him for a moment, then gave a nod. "If you trust him, he's worth hearing out."
Cheng picked up again. "I suspect he's looking to scale. What he wants now is recognition. Support from a major house. Since he was born under our lands, I suppose he wants ours."
"To raise the peasants?"
"To raise himself," Cheng said. "And yes, probably them too. But from what he is able to do and create, I don't think having his support is a bad thing."
The carriage began to slow.
Outside, the mist had cleared just enough to reveal a massive stone plaza etched with shimmering runes.
Guards in full blackened armor stood at the edge of a glowing archway—a portal gate operated by the Imperial Transit Authority.
This was one of the few organizations in the Empire that even noble houses deferred to.
Highly regulated. Fiercely guarded.
Though technically independent, only answering to the Empire, its largest non-Imperial shareholder was House Qorhai, which gave the organization an unusual, and slightly uneasy, influence.
There was a knock at the window.
Cheng opened the carriage door.
A heavily-armored soldier stood there, visor down, his voice muffled by the helmet.
"Confirming identity and cargo," he said. "Calculor Cheng?" He gave a respectful nod—one for Cheng, and three more, with his deepest for the Baron.
Although Gorath was the leader of the House that controlled multiple countries, their leadership overreaching multiple continents, the guard didn't need to give as much respect as anyone else, as workers under the Empire had much work to do.
And giving full respects would only stretch the time of their work, delaying it.
"Here," Cheng replied, producing a scroll from his sleeve.
"Any active mana disruptors aboard?"
"None."
The soldier stepped back, gesturing to another.
"Proceed."
The carriage rolled forward onto the portal platform. Blue runes flared beneath the wheels. The arched gateway slowly let out a strong blue, thick hue toward the multiple carriages.
Enveloping it.
Although there were windows, the hue was able to seep through them without finding any opening—
As if there were no windows to begin with.
Cheng reached under his seat and pulled out a cloth to cover his hand.
Inside the cabin, the air pressure shifted.
Volker didn't move. Malik smiled as he closed his eyes. "Brace for cold."
The carriage passed through.
Blue light swallowed everything. The temperature plummeted for a heartbeat—like falling into a pile of snow. Then the coldness disappeared.
They had crossed the gateway.