Chapter 609: Meanwhile, the Train Departed from the Hero

Not only time sped up, but so did the Prince.

Passengers standing in the smoking area hadn't finished their lit cigars when the speeding carriage had already crossed the border of Lei Ming County.

As the red-painted carriage passed Campbell Castle Station, a flowing oil painting immediately came into the passengers' view.

Bustling towns turned into forests and farmland, then quickly into flocks of sheep and small rivers, scattered windmills and wisps of smoke, followed by another town and more farmland.

The Campbell riders had never before measured their homeland this way.

And the abstract metaphor of "Mother" was now given an unprecedentedly concrete meaning!

"Saint Sis above, the Wan Ren Mountains truly have ten thousand peaks…" muttered Deputy Dibico, puffing his cigar, as another carriage was swiftly left behind.

Nearby, he heard the excited chatter of several musicians.

A gentleman wearing a monocle squinted slightly, as if drawing inspiration from the wind pouring through the window.

"That rumbling sound reminds me of the cargo ships at Lei Ming City's harbor… Saint Sis above, I've got a new idea! For my next symphony, I want my oboists' fingers to move as fast as a steam engine's piston!"

The friend beside him stared in astonishment.

"Would that sound good?"

The musician smiled.

"How else will you know unless you try?"

A gentleman wearing a top hat, after long contemplation, suddenly chuckled and teased.

"Sounds interesting—hope it sounds as wild as our train!"

"Hah!"

It wasn't just musicians who chatted merrily—so were the painters invited by the dukes.

They occupied the best seats, sketching rapidly with notebooks and pencils, as if determined to capture fleeting inspiration on paper.

Writers and playwrights exchanged amusing anecdotes heard at the train station platforms, and within a single leg of the journey, they had settled on the next "stage" for the Colin Grand Theatre.

They planned to write about a boy chasing a train, whose dream was to make the steam-spewing locomotive fly into the sky.

Everyone doubted he was dreaming—even he doubted it himself—except the beautiful Miss Eloise, who held his hand and told him—

"You can be more confident. Campbell people always stand tall like knights, no matter what."

It would be a heart-touching story.

It would give people a different kind of emotion than "Zhong Sheng," and teach their next generation the power of "belief" and "courage."

And that anything is possible!

With the support of family and friends, this brave boy, through wit and diligence, ultimately defeated the evil Horace—oh no, Manager Sleh.

Good. Now the story outline was set.

The distracted Deputy Dibico was astonished to find that even though they hadn't finished writing the story, they were already planning who to cast.

Well then—

One overly immersed friend was already crying. He thought it couldn't be that bad?

Those standing here weren't just tomorrow's dreamers—there were also reporters from the Lei Ming City Daily. They recorded this historic moment with video crystals, planning to print this instant on tomorrow's front page.

Compared to the banquet at Granston Castle and the summer hunt, they unanimously agreed this down-to-earth magical photograph deserved the cover.

On the other side, the lavishly decorated carriage was filled with the scent of rouge and perfume; people whispered softly, as if in the duke's garden.

The train's interior used dark red mahogany, accented with fine brass fittings, exuding a dignified, luxurious style.

Though still less opulent than Theoden's summer palace, it possessed its own refined elegance.

It was like the "Luo Ke 1053 Rifle."

The Campbells had evolved from the traditions of the Great Lain region a unique artistic style and aesthetic of their own.

To summarize in four simplest images: red brick and chimneys, steel and wool.

Yet more astonishing than the carriage's dazzling interior was its smoothness—like a ferry gliding across open waters.

Had it not been for the rushing scenery outside and occasional jolts, Horace almost doubted whether the train was moving at all.

It was vastly superior to carriages!

Not just in speed and stability, but most crucially—it couldn't be "robbed" like a carriage.

The robbery here wasn't about dungeon demons, but merchants and mercenaries who occasionally played bandits, adventurers hoping to strike one last blow before going home, and knights or lords who set up tolls along dirt roads.

Horace knew them all too well—his stingy, impoverished nature wasn't bred in luxury. When he was poorer than Ma Xiu, he'd suffered their harassment often.

Now, right before his eyes, they were crushed by the black chimney!

And he could almost see with his own eyes—the lands first connected by the railway would be the first to develop!

Perhaps—

Should he buy some?

He was pondering this in his mind.

At that moment, a uniformed attendant pushed a sleek silver dining cart slowly forward.

The cart's wheels seemed wrapped in soft alchemical material; they rolled over the carpet without a sound, so that he only noticed when the footsteps were right beside him.

"Sir, this is aged wine from the Lei Ming County Silver Pine Vineyard. Please enjoy."

The attendant stopped beside Horace and his wife's seats, deftly pouring red wine for both with gloved hands.

Watching the liquid pour like a ruby, Horace sniffed—the rich aroma made his throat itch and triggered his old ailment again.

"How much for this glass?"

"It's free, sir. Today's consumption is paid for by His Grace the Duke."

Yet the attendant's smile didn't change a bit, maintaining perfect professionalism as he added with a wry tone:

"But on regular days, this fine wine from the Lei Ming County Silver Pine Vineyard costs five silver pounds."

Five silver pounds.

Horace quickly calculated in his head—the price was certainly high, but considering it flowed through the veins of a steel beast, perhaps… it was fair?

His sharp eyes immediately flickered—he smelled something else, like a rat scenting butter.

Though this train had no scheduled stops, clearly many unused stations had been reserved along the railway, each with only bare platforms beneath shelters.

If Horace Textile Factory opened shops at those platforms, wouldn't he make a fortune like the vendors outside Colin Grand Theatre?!

The thought set Horace's heart ablaze—he felt as if his chair were on fire, making him restless.

Saint Sis above—

Five silver pounds for wine was robbery!

Horace could stand by the window and pour wine directly to passengers inside—he wouldn't stop pouring as long as the train didn't move!

And for one glass, he'd charge only one silver pound!

Of course, he had expensive wine too!

And if they couldn't afford red wine, he had cheap beer and black tea—and snacks like newspapers and dried meat!

But for a textile factory to do this felt odd—he wondered if he should follow Andes and form some "Horace Group."

"The train's name is rather distinctive—Prince… does it refer to Prince Colin?" The gentleman beside him swirled his wine, seeming more interested in the train itself than the wine inside.

"Indeed, sir. This train was built to commemorate the friendship between the Campbell Duchy and the Colin Duchy. The signature on the locomotive was written personally by His Grace the Duke, who gifted the pen to our Prince."

Clearly, he'd recited this many times—not just for the inaugural passengers, but for future curious guests.

These days, citizens of Lei Ming City valued ceremony more than nobles.

"Are there other models?" the gentleman asked curiously.

The attendant smiled patiently.

"Of course. The Royal Railway Company will also launch the 'Duke,' 'Baron,' 'Knight,' and 'Citizen'—four trains already delivered, to be operational no later than next month."

"What's the difference? Faster? Bigger?"

"Speed is identical, sir. The difference lies only in the signature on the locomotive. Whether duke or citizen, arrival time is fair."

As he spoke, the attendant glanced around the carriage.

"Though the locomotives are identical, comfort levels and ticket prices vary by carriage. This train's twelve carriages are all the most expensive luxury models. When the Prince actually enters service, we'll also introduce more spacious, affordable versions."

Hearing this, Horace's eyes brightened slightly; he leaned forward and immediately joined the conversation.

"Can I name a train? Like… 'Horace'?"

Hearing this novel idea, the gentlemen and ladies nearby couldn't help but smile faintly.

But Horace didn't care.

He spoke his name, but his mind was on his factory.

If a train carried tens of thousands daily across the duchy, its sides emblazoned with giant "Horace Textile Factory" logos and trademarks… wouldn't that mean thousands greeted his factory daily with bows?!

Though they may have no money now, they'll have some someday.

When they finally have a few copper coins and want to buy decent clothes or a new quilt, they'll instantly think of his name and recognize the Horace Textile Factory mark!

Isn't that a thousand times more reliable than tying ribbons to the church's ancient bell?!

"This…"

The attendant clearly hadn't encountered such a creative passenger; he paused, then politely replied:

"You'd need to discuss this with the Royal Railway Company's upper management. But I've heard they're currently discussing expanding railway investment. Since they don't reject private funding to grow the network, they likely won't refuse a creative gentleman like you from joining their plans."

"Thank you—I'll go speak with them right away!"

Horace leaned back into the soft sofa, ecstatic.

He already saw a white-smoke-spewing train hauling his cloth, racing toward an endless horizon of wealth.

While Horace drowned in a sea of coins, his wife, Phemonna, beside him, giggled into her wineglass.

She wasn't laughing at her husband—she'd just met a new female friend and was chatting enthusiastically with this elegant lady.

She was a lady of noble bearing, from Campbell Castle, next to Lei Ming County. That was the capital of the duchy, the true center of power, and just moments ago, the train had passed through her backyard, and beyond it, the forest estate.

Yet this baroness had no interest in flaunting wealth; instead, she spoke with deep familiarity about Lei Ming County's red wine and the latest hit play.

In the past, nobles would never speak to commoners as friends—but in Campbell Duchy in the year 1054 of Osli, things were different. A single house in the heart of Lei Ming City could now buy an entire estate in Campbell Castle.

After all, those settling there were not just Campbellers, but merchants and nobles from all across the northeastern shores of the Vortex Sea, even men from the upper Reel River and the lands farther north—the Roders.

Add to that the December Coup, which wiped out nearly every powerful noble in the duchy, forcing even the most conservative Campbell nobles to set aside their old dignity, lest they miss the train passing before them.

Take this baroness's husband, for instance. He could not bear the vulgar smell inside the carriage, yet he could not refuse the money hidden within that vulgarity.

So he took his ancient surname and stubborn pride to the smoking area next door, lit a cigar, and left business matters to his wife.

This was, in truth, a wise choice—after all, he and Horace had nothing in common, but their wives both adored the Iris Troupe's plays, and both possessed the talent to say the same thing a thousand times in a hundred different ways.

With expressions and tones even more exaggerated than Miss Qiqi's.

"... Speaking of red wine, my favorite is still the vineyard in Silver Pine Town." The baroness took a delicate sip, her gaze distant. "The grapevines there in autumn are as beautiful as a painting."

"Oh my, what a coincidence!"

Fimona gasped in delight, covering her mouth, her eyes smiling into crescents.

"That's exactly where I often go for picnics! The estate owner there is even a friend of my husband's. Next time, we can go together—I know which grove has the best view. We can have a picnic right there."

The baroness looked at her in surprise.

"Really? That sounds wonderfully exciting!"

The chimneys spewing white smoke carried the noise northward toward Campbell Castle; in an instant, the train had entered the South Creek Valley Plain, one of Campbell Duchy's largest granaries, while another lay farther north, in the North Creek Valley Plain.

The town of Blackford was the second-largest river port on the lower Reel River, after Lei Ming City, while Milltown boasted the duchy's densest concentration of windmills and gristmills, connected by a network of paths to Gold Cross City.

There, the land routes and river trade routes of central Campbell Duchy converged—and it was also the domain of Count Winkton Danch.

Luo Yan remembered the man—he had met him once at the Andis Estate auction.

Once, Erin had half-jokingly, half-probingly asked him whether Count Danch wished to marry his youngest daughter to him, and if he needed her help arranging it.

Luo Yan's answer, of course, was "I have no thoughts of romance for now"—the standard fishhook reply.

Now, thinking back, perhaps a different answer might have earned him a more interesting expression.

He gazed at the book in his hands, long untouched.

Across from Luo Yan, Edward, with his silver hair, watched the windmills fading beyond the window, letting the gusts tousle his bangs.

"... I invited Count Winkton Danch to the summer hunt, but the moment he heard the destination was Granston Castle, he fell ill the next day."

This was the foremost carriage of the Prince, utterly distinct from those behind it: a red carpet, a single table, two seats.

The walls, paneled in heartwood, hung with portraits of generations of Campbell ancestors; a massive crystal chandelier was secured by an intricate mechanical device, unshaken even at high speed.

It was a gift from the Colin family to the Campbell family, a symbol of friendship between Colin Duchy and Campbell Duchy.

Not only was it comfortable—its safety was unparalleled.

Luo Yan himself designed its defensive magic array; the seemingly fragile wooden panels not only muffled outside noise but could withstand a full-force strike from a Diamond-rank mage.

Theoretically, even a Purple Crystal-rank powerhouse would find it difficult to break through. After all, whether in Hell or on the surface, the strength of the transcendent was being diluted as their share of faith-power shrank, enduring "passive inflation"...

"Do you regret it?" Luo Yan teased, watching Edward's half-closed eyes with casual tone.

Edward smiled, turned his gaze from the window, and looked at him.

"Me? Not at all—especially after seeing the gift you gave me. The one who should regret it is our dear Winkton Danch. He's a clever man; Gold Cross City thrives under his rule. Yet sadly, even a clever friend like him cannot avoid mistakes at life's crossroads."

"The Emperor and his throne have become eternal."

"What's that?"

"A saying from Shengcheng: it means... when a man sits on a chair too long, he inevitably grows into it. Perhaps he doesn't want to rise—but he can't anymore." Luo Yan spoke softly to the curious Edward.

Edward laughed.

"Ha! A clever metaphor. Thank goodness I met you, Colin. Sometimes I feel Saint Sis must have sent you to my side. Since meeting you, everything has gone smoothly—both public affairs... and private ones."

Luo Yan raised an eyebrow slightly.

"I'm glad you think so. Perhaps it's true."

"Ha! By the way... this train is incredibly fast."