Exodus
Exodus
Of all the tasks, building roads mattered most.
I mobilized every spirit mage in the Iron Blood Coalition.
"We must pave a road across the golden plains of the western continent," I ordered. "Clear a route all the way to the trading city of Dagamba! Another road must run from Elrond to Portu Commercial City! Work as fast as you can!"
The great highway linking the trade routes through the Raco Mountains to the commercial cities on both continents began to take shape.
With generous pay on offer, countless workers volunteered, and the roads advanced quickly.
I spared no time, manpower, or coin, demanding the finest, most durable roads possible.
Before long we had highways that rivaled the Emperor’s own roads in the capital.
Meanwhile Saladin and Karl Hansen carried out their roles without fail.
"Don’t hold back on the money!" Karl shouted. "Build the best buildings you can!"
The merchant guild poured funds into the construction guild, raising hostels and shops outside Portu Commercial City on a massive scale.
Sewers were expanded and waterworks rebuilt; the guild’s vast wealth flowed into the city.
People could not understand why the guild spent so freely.
Some muttered that Karl Hansen was wasting money, but those were only the words of the ignorant.
"Let them talk all they want!" Karl laughed every day. "Keep pouring money in! We will make this the greatest commercial district on the continent!"
At almost the same moment the rebuilt commercial cities of Dagamba and Portu stood ready for trade, the great highway connecting them was completed.
The road I had demanded was wide enough for ten carriages abreast and stretched from the golden plains of the west through the frozen wastes of the east.
For the first time in history the two continents were joined by a single, unbroken land route.
It had taken only one month after the Raco Mountains tunnel was opened.
With that, my preparations were complete.
The exclusive trade rights granted by the Emperor were in my hands, and the merchant guild, masters of distribution, answered to me.
Karl Hansen had already ordered hundreds more carriages and stockpiled them in Portu.
East and west stood ready to trade, and I had no intention of stopping the flow.
"All goods from east and west will be bought and sold at the midpoint—Elrond!"
I announced the rule to merchants of both empires, then opened the route.
The tunnel the Iron Blood Coalition’s mages had carved over three months was solid enough to bear thousands of travelers and wagons.
And so the first historic overland trade between the two continents began at Elrond.
"What?!"
Duke Pellings slammed his desk so hard the sound echoed through the study.
The solid oak proved harder than his knuckles; he shook his stinging hand and glared at the butler who had brought the news.
"They say the trade route has been opened," the butler reported. "Western goods are pouring into the eastern continent through the new land route. Elrond is leading the trade."
The Duke stared blankly for a long moment, then struck the desk again in fury.
This time the pain was worse; papers scattered across the floor.
"Why am I only hearing about this now?!"
"Forgive me, Your Grace."
The butler bowed, though he felt the injustice of it.
The Duke himself had ordered that Landor’s activities in Elrond be ignored unless failure was confirmed, so the spies had been recalled.
Yet now the blame fell on him.
Still, what could he do? Duke Pellings had always been a petty man.
"Damn it! What goods are they importing?"
"Vast quantities of spices, silk, perfume… nearly every western commodity that could not travel by sea. Pepper is especially popular."
Pepper had always required elaborate waterproof packaging, limiting its volume.
Only the wealthiest nobles could afford it—until now.
With the new supply the price had fallen enough for commoners to buy it.
The difference in taste between peppered and unpeppered food was unmistakable.
Demand exploded across the empire, and Landor’s merchant guild, holding the western monopoly, raked in fortunes from pepper alone.
"That damned man actually succeeded. But how did he find the right path through that maze of mountains so quickly?"
Duke Pellings had been certain Landor would fail.
The Raco Mountains were a labyrinth of sheer ice and rock harder than steel.
Only by locating rare pockets of softer earth or movable stone could anyone hope to tunnel through, and that required unimaginable sums of money, time, and the lives of countless explorers.
That was why everyone had abandoned the project—until now.
"How did he finish it in less than half a year?! That cursed fool!"
The Duke’s roar shook the room.
Prince Adran of Gold already controlled the empire’s key ministries with his righteousness and administrative skill.
Princess Selene of Grace dominated the fields of magic and technology with her beauty and intellect.
Keeping those two factions in check was already exhausting, yet now the invincible Karia and Landor were growing more influential than both combined.
For Duke Pellings, who planned to dethrone the incompetent Emperor and seize the throne himself, the situation was intolerable.
"Summon the members of the Vineyard Party. We must hold a meeting."
He had no choice but to gather his own faction.
The seven nobles who controlled the empire’s richest western grain lands, together with Duke Pellings, formed the Vineyard Party.
They plotted to remove the foolish Emperor and his children and rule the empire themselves.
To decide how to counter the monstrous growth of Landor and Princess Karia, he needed every member’s counsel.
He was about to order the butler to send out summons when the door burst open.
"Your Grace! Disaster!"
Marquess Halloran, one of the Vineyard Party members, rushed in without needing a letter.
"Marquess. I was just about to write to you. What happened?"
"The peasants! The peasants and nobles are flocking to Elrond!"
"What nonsense is this? Why would they go there?"
The answer was beyond anything he expected.
"They’re looking for work! And they want to see the amusement park!"
Only months earlier Elrond had been a ruin, its empty buildings creaking in the cold wind from the Raco Mountains.
Now it had become a thriving city that made even the original baron weep with regret.
The spacious lodgings—mocked by capital nobles as a fool’s project—were packed with merchants from both continents.
Interpreters darted between them, and every day the merchant guild earned sums that would have taken a year in the capital.
Mountains of spices, perfume, and silk changed hands in Elrond.
The market, built large in advance, overflowed; traders filled the streets, forcing me to plan three more markets at once.
Where money gathered, people followed.
"We will not return. May we become citizens of the barony?"
The twenty thousand peasants who had come only to earn extra wages now refused to leave.
None wished to return to their original lords.
By law I should have refused; serfs were a lord’s property, and stealing another’s serfs was illegal.
But I possessed the ultimate protection that let me ignore every law.
"Oh dear! Such a pitiful situation! If they need a sponsor, they shall have one! Those twenty thousand are hereby recognized as citizens of your barony."
After a single audience with the Emperor the twenty thousand became my people overnight.
I rushed the paperwork through in a week and submitted it to the imperial court.
The nobles whose serfs had been taken—mostly Vineyard Party members loyal to Duke Pellings—stormed the palace in outrage.
The Emperor paid them no heed.
"Do you dare question a decision I have already approved? Granting serfs is an imperial prerogative! Besides, those twenty thousand fled because of exploitation and heavy taxes. Are you collecting taxes according to the law? Would you like a tax audit?"
The Emperor struck straight at their weakest point.
When defending me, the usually dull Emperor suddenly grew sharp and clever.
"W-well…"
"Say no more on this matter! Coming to me because your serfs ran away—tsk tsk! It is obvious how poorly you managed them. Are you here to boast that you are incompetent lords?"
The Vineyard Party nobles left humiliated, stripped of both labor and dignity.
The story of their disgrace spread among the common folk and became the favorite topic of conversation.
Then a new rumor began to circulate.
"If you run to Elrond, your old lord can’t come after you."
Word of mouth added details until the tale was complete.
For peasants long crushed by taxes, it was dazzling news.
Two more rumors followed.
"Elrond has more jobs than you can count!"
"And there’s something called an amusement park!"
"Amusement park? What’s that?"
"A place full of fun things. They say you can ski and skate there!"
A true lord who did not exploit his people.
A domain overflowing with high-paying work.
And a rare place built solely for entertainment in this medieval age.
Elrond became the land of dreams and opportunity for the empire’s peasants.
When the rumor that old lords could not pursue runaways was added, the result was inevitable.
A massive exodus of peasants fleeing exploitation began.