Chapter 649: New Forces Are Arriving at the

The air in Rain-Cleared Leiming City was especially fresh, like a wet cloth wiped across a shop window.

A black carriage, bearing no family crest, blended into the busy traffic, slowly moving along the newly asphalted main road.

Inside the carriage, Dengpus wore an old-fashioned top hat, his eyes filled with admiration as he surveyed the familiar yet strange street.

To him, both the cast-iron streetlamps lining the road and the "byproducts" scattered on the ground held a peculiar fascination.

The public steam locomotives puffing white smoke, and the two-wheeled bicycles—these made him feel as if he had stepped into another world.

When he left this city, its "public transport" still meant public carriages pulled by three tall mules.

Two years ago, Duke Edward's reforms entered their critical phase; increasingly aggressive land consolidation had made the entire duchy's atmosphere grow tense.

Leveraging his merchant's sharp instincts, Dengpus concluded this land was headed for war, and would eventually be dragged into poverty by prolonged conflict.

To preserve his accumulated wealth, he sold his shop in Leiming City and moved his wife and children north to the Kingdom of Luo De, seeking refuge with distant relatives.

At the time, he believed he had made the wisest decision of his life.

Until a local baron, eager and eager, reached out through connections to inquire about investment opportunities in Leiming City—he suddenly realized he had missed something vital.

As he now saw, the past two years had likely been Leiming City's finest: Duke Edward's new policies had utterly transformed the entire duchy. And as the epicenter of this boundless prosperity, land once discarded like trash now sold for more than ten times its former price.

Watching the well-dressed people on the street, Dengpus felt a storm of emotions.

But he was a man who could let go. He took a deep breath of the rain-washed air and exhaled his regret.

All that was past—

Now was a new beginning; it was never too late to start over.

With the connections and capital he had amassed in the north, in this new age where gold lay everywhere, he would surely find his footing again.

Just as he was brimming with ambition, ready to make his mark in his former hometown, a childish voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Father."

The boy, who had been leaning out the opposite window, suddenly turned his head, eyes bright with excitement, pointing at the towering building beyond.

"What's that?"

Dengpus followed his son's gaze and saw the distant clock tower.

The tower stood like a giant's arm, rooted firmly on earth, proudly piercing the sky. Its massive clock face gleamed in the post-rain sunlight; even from afar, the moving hands were clearly visible.

"That's the Clock Tower. Our old home was right there."

As he spoke, Dengpus felt another sharp pang in his chest.

But the boy had no such sorrow—he only widened his curious eyes and asked,

"Clock Tower? Like your pocket watch?"

"Not quite. Your father's pocket watch only shows the time when you open the cover. But that clock tower—you can see it just by looking up."

Dengpus's voice carried a hint of pride.

The Clock Tower had become Leiming City's calling card; even in distant Longshi City, people talked about it, dreamed of seeing it.

And what did that have to do with him?

A great deal!

Once, no one in Longshi City knew where the Campbells came from. Now, when they heard his accent, they automatically assumed he was a punctual fellow.

Dengpus was a businessman; this filter brought him immense advantages—even though he had no idea whether he was punctual or not.

But since so many people looked at him with respect, he unconsciously upheld this shared badge of honor.

"I know, but what's inside the tower?"

The boy blinked, his young face brimming with curiosity.

"Such a big house can't be empty. Does it house giants? Or is it filled with countless interlocking gears?"

Inside?

Dengpus froze.

That question truly stumped him.

For most people, the Clock Tower was simply a vast, intricate machine—a symbol of the duchy's industrial might. No one ever spoke of what lay within its walls.

After a long pause, he smiled and reached out to ruffle his son's soft, fluffy hair.

"Dad doesn't know. Perhaps gods who govern time live inside. Or perhaps… it's a place reserved for geniuses like you."

He gently left the mystery of this world to the child.

"Maybe one day, you'll tell me the answer."

The boy nodded, half-understanding, then leaned back against the window. To him, the Clock Tower had already become the most mysterious place in his heart.

Even more mysterious than Leiming County's labyrinth.

After all, his father knew a little about the labyrinth—but this towering Clock Tower had stumped the all-knowing man.

The carriage passed through an intersection.

At that moment, the boy, who had been gazing around, spotted something extraordinary—he nearly leaned completely out the window.

He tugged his father's sleeve excitedly, one hand pointing high into the sky.

"Dad! Look! A ship! A giant sailboat is flying in the sky!"

Dengpus chuckled.

"Are you sure you saw it clearly, my little Dengpus? Ships sail on water; only birds fly in the sky."

"It's true! It's huge!" The boy's face turned red with urgency. "It's even smoking!"

"Alright, I suppose it must have wings and breathe fire," Dengpus said, glancing up instinctively, following his son's pointing finger.

And in that instant, his words died in his throat; his casual smile vanished, replaced by shock and stunned silence.

Far off beneath the clouds, a colossal object was slowly emerging.

At first, Dengpus thought he had seen a legendary dragon. But as the object rose clearer from the clouds, he realized it was even more extraordinary than a dragon—

It was truly a sailboat!

Unlike the sailboats docked at Leiming City's harbor, its sails hung along its sides like oars floating above the sea of clouds. Worse still, above its deck floated a massive spindle-shaped gasbag, resembling a dandelion from afar.

The sight utterly defied Dengpus's lifetime of experience—he was so astonished he nearly dropped his jaw.

His child, however, accepted the impossible scene without hesitation, cheering wildly at the arrival of the behemoth.

Perhaps hearing the children's shouts, passersby on the street halted their hurried steps and turned their gaze northward.

The gentleman waiting for the bus lowered his newspaper. The deliveryman on his tricycle stopped pedaling. The newsboys ceased their cries. The street vendors forgot to haggle—

The entire city seemed frozen in that moment. Tens of thousands of eyes turned toward the same direction, watching the sky-obscuring airship slowly enter everyone's view.

Dengpus trembled as he removed his hat and pressed it to his chest—as if to calm his racing heart, or perhaps to pay homage to some unknown power.

"Saint Xis in heaven…"

Dengpus murmured.

He had been away too long.

Not just on the ground—

Even the sky had become unrecognizable.

…

Ten thousand meters above, the cold wind howled.

The "Truth" pierced the clouds like a whale entering unfamiliar waters, its massive bow struggling to push through the lingering rain clouds.

Gales pounded the gasbag's skin, producing deep, thunderous drumbeats; the entire cockpit shuddered violently with the air currents.

Yet it had not shattered like the "Voyager" had.

After two and a half years of constant refinement, the Truth now possessed the capability for ultra-long-distance travel. Adapted to polar climates, it would glide through the south as if it were an unoccupied land—

At least in theory.

Steam valves hissed sharply; white mist filled the cramped space. Hundreds of magic apprentices trembled; calm faces were few.

Not just the apprentices—even the relatively powerful professors were the same.

At this moment, he had none of his usual scholarly poise. Beads of sweat coated his forehead; his glasses, held in place by glue, nearly slipped from his nose.

He gripped the main control rod, reinforced with adamantine, as if wrestling an invisible beast. Though he could have used magic to do this, his goal for the "Truth" was that even ordinary people could pilot it effortlessly—so he had used no magic at all.

"Damn it! Why are the air currents here even more chaotic than the northern wastes!?"

"Could it… could it be because of the strong coastal winds…?" the first mate stammered.

"I don't know! But if we don't do something soon, valve three is going to blow!"

Professor Wali roared as he frantically fumbled among the dizzying array of control rods, trying to stabilize the wildly fluctuating instruments.

In the embedded observation Cang, Jami had nearly half his body hanging over the sky.

This temporary navigator had his face pressed tightly against a brass telescope, his left hand frantically turning the crank to adjust the viewing angle, his right hand swiftly measuring on a map already soaked in sweat.

Grabbing the brass voice tube connected to the cockpit, he bellowed:

"Professor! Left three degrees! No—the air currents are too strong… right three degrees would be better! I think the clouds are drifting that way!"

Professor Wali roared back: "Which way?! Are you sure? This is our maiden voyage—we're risking our lives!"

"Wait—the clouds aren't just drifting right—"

Jami's eyes snapped wide. Through gaps in the cloud layers, he caught sight of an unmistakable landmark on the ground.

That towering black spire, like a lighthouse standing on shore, guided this tiny vessel through the storm.

In the instant he confirmed the course, he cried out in delight:

"I see it! Professor! The Clock Tower mentioned in Prince Colin's letter! That giant thing is right ahead! Your adjustment was perfect—don't touch the damn rudder anymore!"

Professor Wali: "I haven't touched it at all!!!"

While the cockpit was chaos, the passenger cabin presented a completely different scene: some calmly read magic tomes, others made the sign of the cross in prayer.

Although the air currents aloft were turbulent, they did not seem to affect the cabin.

Bain and Harde, the infamous "explosion prodigies" of the Academic League, now pressed their faces tightly against the thick cabin windows.

In their eyes burned a feverish glow as they watched the forests, plains, and city outlines below grow larger.

After three days and three nights of travel, the journey neared its end—

They were finally here!

"Harde, look at that wasteland over there!" Bain's grin stretched ear to ear as he pointed to the barren steppe beyond Lei Ming City, "Flat terrain, no cover, not even a rabbit in sight!"

Harde wore an equally excited expression, muttering nonstop.

"Perfect firing range! Those old fossils always feared we'd blow up the Mage Towers—now we're in this wilderness, finally free to let loose, ha!"

"Let them witness the power of truth," Bain rubbed his hands eagerly, "All that knightly charge, all those magic shields—they're nothing but paper toys before pure heat and shockwaves!"

Ram watched the two lunatics with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

"Calm down—"

Bain and Harde spoke almost in unison.

"Impossible to calm down!" Unlike the two lunatics' clamor, Ilana stood quietly in the cabin's corner, gazing at the unfamiliar plain, her slender hands gently pressed against the cold glass.

She came from the Pierce Province of the Empire, never having set foot in such a remote region. Her heart thrummed with excitement at meeting her master, yet also held a trace of unease toward this foreign land—

She had often heard her father say the kingdoms were inhabited by uncouth barbarians, and only the Rodians, who made furniture and pianos for the Empire, were slightly better—though only slightly.

She did not agree with her father's views, yet couldn't help wondering how these border folk, far from the world's center, viewed imperial people.

But remembering that Prince Colin had already stayed here over two years, her unease softened somewhat.

The clouds rapidly receded beneath the airship, and the silhouette of Lei Ming City grew sharp.

It was a city utterly unlike those of the Academic League.

Towering chimneys replaced mage towers; rows of houses resembled neatly arranged matchboxes in a shop window; steel roads stretched like a giant's spine.

Most striking of all was the Clock Tower.

Its precisely crafted four-faced dials stared like the eyes of a giant, watching the visitors from above.

Ilana's thoughts drifted involuntarily back to two years ago, that afternoon when Prince Colin had departed aboard the "Voyager" without a word.

Back then, she too had stood by the window, watching that black dot shrink until it vanished beyond the unreachable horizon.

The sense of abandonment, the helplessness of never being able to catch up, had plunged her into gloom for many nights.

Yet now—

Beneath her feet, the "Truth" rumbled, and just as Prince Colin had wished before leaving, the Science School's technology had transformed beyond recognition!

As the Clock Tower drew nearer, a mist gathered in Ilana's eyes, yet her lips curved into a genuine smile.

"Master—"

"This time, your student has finally caught up to you."

…

Her quiet whisper was miles away from Lei Ming City. Yet it was heard by an unremarkable "blue butterfly."

Including the noise from the cockpit, and the two lunatics nearly poking holes in the glass with their noses…

Outside Lei Ming City, at the garrison post.

Duke Edward, wrapped in a heavy cloak, scrutinized the latest batch of "Luo Ke 1054" bolt-action rifles.

Though border conflicts had ended with the signing of the "Sacred Accord," the ruler of the Campbell Duchy showed no sign of slackening.

Today, Lei Ming City was a massive magnet, drawing countless souls from along the Vortex Sea, all hungry for wealth and opportunity.

Among them were not only dream-chasing entrepreneurs and diligent laborers, but also swindlers from every corner of the world and pirates of the Vortex Sea.

With curfew lifted, Lei Ming City's public security pressure had grown even heavier than during wartime.

Hence, the garrison, last in the equipment supply queue, had finally received the very toys the regular army had nearly grown bored with.

Behind Duke Edward, the garrison commander, flushed with pride, spoke.

"…Your Majesty, thanks to these new weapons, even seasoned adventurers dare not dare to defy our men."

Picking up a rifle, Edward asked casually.

"Are there many troublemaking adventurers lately?"

The garrison commander smiled in reply.

"Not many, Your Majesty—just the occasional incident or two, and it's not something new."

Here, his face twisted with disgust as he spat.

"These disgraceful scum—unable to face demons in the labyrinth, they turn on their own kind."

Edward smiled faintly and replied.

"We can't entirely blame them. Part of the fault lies with me—I'm the one who took away their livelihoods."

The Campbell Duchy had shifted its focus from underground to surface affairs, neglecting labyrinth investments.

With only the funding from Saint Clement Cathedral, the Adventurers' Guild could no longer afford high-value missions as before.

Many adventurers had changed professions.

Yet for seasoned adventurers with Bronze or even Steel-level strength, adapting to this new life was no easy task.

The garrison commander blinked in surprise, staring at the duke, momentarily speechless.

Clearly, he had never imagined the duke would see this as his own problem—and seriously consider those nearly discarded men.

Edward set down the rifle and voiced his idea to the garrison commander.

"I'm considering forming a special public security unit within the garrison, composed of adventurers, to handle crimes involving adventurers."

He paused, then continued.

"They understand their own kind well, and keeping them in our ranks ensures we won't be left without experts if labyrinth monsters ever surge again."

Beyond that, giving these "freelancers" a stable livelihood would itself alleviate public security issues caused by shrinking job opportunities.

They could not only handle crimes tied to adventurers, but resume their former duties: dealing with beast-related disasters, investigating demonic infiltration, and more.

Previously, the Campbell family had always entrusted such tasks to the Adventurers' Guild, controlled by the Church. But in truth, the Church's dominion over the northeastern Vortex Sea had dwindled; the Guild's funding now came mostly from royal and noble grants and parliamentary allocations.

Since the Church no longer wished to pay, they could simply sideline this middleman and handle it themselves.

Hearing the duke's order, the garrison commander straightened his posture and saluted.

"Yes, Your Majesty!"

As the two prepared to move to the next barracks, footsteps suddenly sounded outside.

A soldier rushed into the tent, pale as a ghost, as if he'd seen a wraith.

"M, Your Majesty! Commander! Something terrible! A ship is flying in the sky!"

Edward froze, his face twisting into a strange expression.

Beside him, the garrison commander's face darkened instantly as he glared at the panicked soldier.

"Calm down, Sergeant Hanks! Do you know what you're saying?"

"I—I'm telling the truth!" The soldier stammered desperately, "A ship as huge as a mountain, hovering over the outskirts of Lei Ming City! Go outside and see for yourself!"

"Then let's go see," Edward interrupted the commander, yanked open the tent flap, and strode out.

The instant his right foot crossed the threshold, his gaze swept northward—and his face froze in shock.

That was…

What the hell?!

The "sailboat" piercing the clouds drifted slowly toward Lei Ming City, its colossal form blotting out the sun, casting over all a shadow of awe.

In that moment—

The entire camp erupted!

Almost every soldier stared skyward in disbelief; some devout men even dropped their weapons, clasped their hands in prayer, mistaking the absurd wingspan for an angel sent by the gods.

Clearly, their eyesight was poor—and they'd missed the battle outside Huanghun City, never having seen a real angel.

For those long weary of coal dust, they didn't even think of angels—their wide eyes gleamed instead with excitement and curiosity.

"What the hell is that?"

"Need to ask? It's clearly a new invention from Lei Ming University! Who else could build something so outrageous?"

"Saint Xis in heaven… They turned a ship into the sky!"

"Is there anything they can't do?"

"Praise science! Praise Campbell!"

The garrison soldiers were mostly young.

Though none had attended university, without realizing it, Lei Ming University and the Encyclopedia had already transformed much of the city.

Faced with the unknown, people no longer immediately turned to the gods—they instinctively credited the ivory tower that revealed truth to the world—

Yet conversely, that ivory tower had lost some of its mystery to them.

Perhaps the scholars inside should wait a while longer, and invent more things beyond mortal comprehension.

Edward's hand instinctively gripped the hilt of his sword, his hawk-like eyes narrowing.

As a strategist, his first thought was whether the ship carried weapons.

After all, it had appeared suddenly over Lei Ming City, arriving from the north—he could hardly assume its intentions were benign.

"Alert the artillery—"

"Don't worry, Your Highness."

A gentle voice sounded beside Edward, like a calm, soothing breeze instantly easing the taut air.

Edward turned—and found Prince Colin standing beside him, wearing a serene, elegant smile.

As usual, as the strongest magician in the duchy, he remained calm at all times.

"Corin!" Edward's brow relaxed slightly, a smile appearing on his face as he reholstered the sword he had just drawn, "You've arrived just in time. It seems you know something about that thing."

"Know something? It's my students' 'graduation project,' " Luo Yan said with a gentle smile, his voice filled with pride. "I'm delighted they completed this work before leaving the Academy. For me, it means I have no regrets."

"Your… students?!"

Edward stared in astonishment at this ally whose power was beyond measure, then turned to the vessel destined to be recorded in history—the "airship"—and let out a genuine exclamation of awe.

"You always manage to shock me. I thought moving the steam engine onto land was already your limit, but you've quietly used it to conquer the sky."

"More accurately, it was my students who conquered it—and this is only the beginning," Luo Yan turned his head, his smile radiating confidence. "Trust me, my students will bring you even greater surprises."

He had originally planned to relocate the School of Science to the Jiana Continent, but the Campbells kept exceeding his expectations, again and again.

The truth proved that those who strive are always favored by the gods.

If one expects everything to be solved by "the Demon Lord's intervention," the Demon Lord would likely laugh and point that fool toward Arakdo's desk.

"Hahahaha! Then I'll look forward to it with great anticipation!"

Edward burst into a hearty laugh, but soon his smile faded as practical concerns returned.

"By the way, Corin, though Leyming City has a port, it has no docking facility for this thing. How do you plan to get your students… down?"

Luo Yan smiled.

"No need for such trouble. Just a flat, solid stretch of ground will do—perfect for me to test how well their graduation project turned out."

His own ride, the "Voyager," had crashed awkwardly onto the ground. He wondered if they had solved that problem.

Although Luo Yan had planned to build a dedicated "aerodrome" in Leyming City for airship docking and logistics transfer, that was a matter for the future.

Hearing this, Edward's eyes lit up immediately.

"Then use the wheat field just north of the city—it was harvested recently. The terrain is wide and flat enough. But how do we tell them to land from this distance? Do you have a secret signal?"

"No need for anything so complicated."

Luo Yan smiled faintly, his form gradually growing translucent.

"Since they've come from afar, let their mentor personally go to greet them."