The Awakener from the Abandoned Mine
Percen Neimas, the newly emerged awakener, was a descendant of a noble family that had been wiped out long ago under false charges of treason. At the age of twelve, he had fled into an abandoned mine and survived alone there for over thirty years before finally emerging into the world. He said his awakening had happened not long after he entered the mine, making it an event from ages past.
I wondered if it might have been better to find and bring him out earlier, but it was unavoidable that he hadn't entered my sight until now. I didn't survey every underground space on the continent, after all. Of course, if I'd set my mind to it, there probably wouldn't have been anything I couldn't do—but until this point, such a scenario had never crossed my mind.
Still, considering Dibip's case, keeping someone by my side didn't always lead to the best outcomes. Percen Neimas possessed the power to manipulate minerals. He couldn't perform the kind of intricate crafting that dwarves did, but he could easily produce weapons on the level used by regular soldiers. What was truly terrifying, though, was that as long as minerals were available, he could create anything, anytime, anywhere.
However, it wasn't perfect. Due to his long life underground, he had lost his eyesight. He managed daily life without issue thanks to his sharpened senses, but at first, what he created was limited to things from his memories up to age twelve. After emerging into the world and hearing people's stories, the range of what he could make gradually expanded.
The lord who recognized his ability and recommended him to the capital—and the current state of Zarman Kingdom—was like a stroke of luck for him, as if all the fortune he'd been denied for thirty years had come flooding back at once. The king of Zarman, seeing his potential, promised him a high position. In war, his power rivaled that of a Master or higher.
Buquette Kingdom found no counter to Percen Neimas's abilities. No city walls meant anything before him. Enemy spikes would erupt from allied walls to attack their own troops, or the ramparts would suddenly turn into sheer slopes, sending defenders tumbling down. In the end, they had no choice but to fight in open fields, but even that proved difficult. During cavalry charges, stone walls would rise abruptly in their path, or spear-like protrusions would blanket the entire plain—using all manner of bizarre tactics to torment Buquette's army.
With its capital on the brink of falling, Buquette Kingdom surrendered to Zarman. The royal family was exiled abroad with only minimal possessions. As the war's greatest contributor to victory, Percen Neimas received a vast territory and the title of count, as promised.
And the land granted to Percen Neimas just happened to be the very place where the Ktolari count's family resided. In other words, the defense of the Dragon Mountains had been entrusted to him.
I didn't think that was a bad arrangement. As long as he fortified it well, Percen Neimas could hold back any mass breakout from the Dragon Mountains.
Why was I so concerned about a potential mass breakout from the Dragon Mountains? The condition of the Black Drake, the master of those mountains, had been deteriorating lately. Even magical beasts didn't live forever. Stronger ones tended to live longer, but the Black Drake had ruled the Dragon Mountains since the first time I'd laid eyes on it. Its lifespan was nearing its end.
When the master died, the upper-tier magical beasts would fight among themselves for dominance, eventually leading to a mass exodus.
The civil war among the descendants of Neos Kingdom had thus come to a temporary close for now. Though the seven factions had merely consolidated into four, the infighting had ended. Crusio Kingdom, which had earned the enmity of surrounding nations, still posed a problem, but the allied countries that had sent reinforcements had suffered heavy losses themselves. With the Ether Empire and other small nations watching closely, they wouldn't dare attack Crusio easily for the time being. The real challenge now was how to rebuild and develop the war-ravaged land.
In that regard, Shartia's Nebra Duchy held an overwhelming advantage. Receiving support from both Akasha Territory and the Ether Empire was practically cheating.
After the war, the Ether Empire held its awards ceremony. Argin, having brilliantly fulfilled his role and returned, was formally granted the rank of duke and awarded the western coastal territory I had designated. At the same time, the emperor bestowed upon him the title of Sword Saint—the same honor Argin had earned in Wider's previous life. Once again, it proved that the broad strokes of history followed a similar path.
The matter of titles and lands had already been discussed thoroughly with Argin. He initially showed some reluctance to leave Akasha Territory, but after I reminded him to think of his descendants, showed him around the airships of the New Continent, and explained that we needed someone reliable to manage the trade port for New Continent commerce, he understood and accepted.
And so, two years passed.
Antariel and Ben Bezarel had poured endless research into the innards and bones of the Full Fish, but they ultimately achieved no results. Abandoning the Full Fish studies, the two turned back to the android projects that Setas occasionally assigned as homework. Their research had progressed significantly; the modified humans Ben Bezarel had created in the past now boasted substantial performance improvements. They still couldn't match Argin one-on-one, but deploying them across the continent would make unification a breeze.
And today was finally the launch day for the airship that Setas and the dwarves had poured everything into building.
In the meantime, though the Ether Empire had halted its New Continent expeditions on my account, other nations had mounted two more attempts. Of course, all had failed before even reaching the New Continent.
The sleek, streamlined hull of the New Continent's first airship, the Notilus, lifted its massive frame into the sky. Setas, its designer and builder, had named it after a submarine from a famous novel. Attaching a submarine's name to an airship felt odd, but I didn't bother pointing it out.
“Waaaaaaah!!”
All the New Continent's inhabitants had gathered in one place, cheering and rejoicing regardless of race.
Even Antariel and Ben Bezarel, who never stepped foot outside their labs, had shown up for the event. I was receiving reports from the captain's quarters of the airship.
“Buoyancy normal.”
“Level status normal.”
“Engine output normal.”
“Attack and defense systems normal.”
Reports poured in from the non-human crew, who had undergone rigorous training in the meantime.
“How is it?”
Setas, with Bastet perched on his head, shrugged his shoulders. He'd grown tremendously over the two years. He was at that age, but he was developing much faster than other kids his age. They said it was due to the body modifications done right after birth—I wondered if he'd end up a giant at this rate.
“Excellent.”
This airship was a fusion of science and magic, packed with technologies beyond my wildest imagination. I'd observed and memorized the entire construction process, but I didn't understand the principles. If asked to build another, I wouldn't be confident.
The Notilus, carrying thirty crew members for operations and seventy workers, reached its designated altitude. I issued the command.
“Set course for Tempest Duchy on the Western Continent. Notilus, full speed ahead.”
The Notilus, bearing the future of the New Continent's people, began its maiden voyage.
The Tempest Duchy that Argin had been granted was expanding its infrastructure and population with full backing from Akasha Territory. Once only marginally better than Akasha Territory had been when I first arrived, it now looked quite respectable.
Despite starting from nothing, Argin's first act upon taking charge had been to build a dedicated airship port. And now, that port was hosting the continent's most prominent figures.
Emperor William of the Ether Empire was there, along with three empresses including Shartia. Kings and high officials from nearby nations had gathered too—this was an event for the history books.
“So, when's it supposed to arrive?”
“According to the lord—or rather, Viscount Akasha—it should get here before lunch... I think that's it coming now.”
As Argin pointed to the distant sky, the high and mighty forgot their dignity and stood, craning their necks in that direction.
Of course, a Grand Master's eyesight wasn't the same as an ordinary person's. They shouldn't have been able to see it yet. But far in the sky, a tiny dot appeared and began growing at an alarming speed.
“Wh-what?”
Frightened by the sight, someone started backing away. Soon, the airship's shape became visible, followed by a faint sound. That sound grew louder and louder until it threatened to burst eardrums.
The airship closed the distance in an instant, arriving over Tempest Port with its slender yet enormous hull on full display. Even from that considerable height, its scale was palpable.
“Th-that thing!”
“Lord Juno...”
Foreign dignitaries cried out in shock. William was stunned too but barely maintained his composure, smirking at the reactions from the others.
I'd overlooked the airship's speed. Setas had said it could reach twenty times the speed of sound, but I couldn't grasp that without experiencing it myself.
“You should have warned me it was this fast!”
“I did tell you.”
Setas pouted after Bastet and I each smacked him on the head, front and back.
“Notilus, descend slowly!”
This time, I emphasized slowly. With skilled maneuvers from the crew, the airship landed at the port. We disembarked alongside the passengers, greeted by a band playing a welcome march and led by William himself among the high officials.
“Well done, Viscount Akasha. And welcome, non-humans.”
About a year earlier, I'd forewarned William that this day would come. He'd initially dismissed it as madness, so I'd teleported him to the New Continent for a tour. The palace had erupted in chaos when the emperor vanished, but afterward, William trusted me completely and lent his full support.
One day, I'd asked William if he wasn't afraid of my bold actions. He'd replied, “If you'd decided to do something to me, I wouldn't even be in this world anymore. What is there to fear? If anything, having the world's strongest backer feels reassuring.”
Normally, a viscount should feel secure with the emperor as a backer. In any case, whether it was special treatment just for me or not, William was an emperor without jealousy toward his vassals.
Unveiling the airship and the successful reunion of non-humans with humans was a resounding success. We distributed unique non-human goods from the airship to the gathered dignitaries as celebration gifts. Dwarven jewelry and armaments were the clear favorites, with preorders flying in the moment they were shown.
Sales of non-human goods would be handled entirely by Argin's Tempest Duchy, so I left that to him. Next came elven elixirs, vampire wines, woodcrafts, and beastkin fur clothing—all drawing immense interest.
These were all tax-exempt. William and I had conspired in advance, slipping a clause for tax exemptions on the New Continent—still just a paper territory under my name—into other major agendas. No one raised objections, and it passed without fanfare. Of course, it might change after William's death and a new emperor, but that might not be something to worry about much.
William's son—the yet-to-be-crowned crown prince—had clearly inherited Isabel and Ether's blood; he could see guardian spirits and even hear them. If I imprinted their presence on him, guiding him down the right path would be within my power.
After the first trade concluded and the airship prepared to return to the New Continent, I didn't board. Setas, acting as temporary captain, fired the Notilus's cannons into the empty sea.
I hadn't ordered it, but it was understandable. The result shocked the foreign dignitaries once more.
The Notilus mounted four cannons—devices far beyond this world's civilization. Durability issues meant replacing the entire barrel after each shot, but their power was tremendous. It was a warning: even if someone else developed airships, don't target the New Continent guarded by the Notilus.