Chapter 25: Trauma
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“Your Imperial Majesty.”

“Governor-General Macer. Speak.”

“The difficulties in the new world are reducing the slave numbers arriving in the Senvian territory. However, the ones already working should be enough. Current opium production and smuggling are already showing effects on the Ravenian economy and social integrity. Their government has yet to figure out how to stop it.”

“Excellent. Once the Alitic Alliance fleet arrives and commences its invasion in the new world, we shall allocate a larger workforce to you and speed up the process.”

“Just one issue persists. In the Kingdom of Scorcia, ‘Ardai Industries’ continues to be a problem. They have begun to revolutionize the Kingdom’s metallurgical industry. Strangely, some of their inventions seem to be similar to some of our own. In some cases, it surpasses some areas of our industries. If it goes on, our power and influence will weaken in that region.”

“You should already be aware of the strategic significance of that region. Its proximity to Ravenia serves as a perfect place to launch an invasion should it be necessary.”

“I understand, Your Imperial Majesty. We realized our mistake and are already taking the necessary steps to eliminate the threat. We have sent a Tabellarii official to ensure success.”

“Good. Once this ‘Ardai Industries’ is destroyed, find out how and where their inventions came from.”

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The Salain continent, the continent Scorcia and Ravenia are located in, can almost be described as two separate continents. The most prominent feature of the unimaginably massive landmass is the Heimfara Mountain Range. It’s the largest mountain range, containing the tallest peaks anywhere in the world. It borders most of Scorcia’s northern border and stretches north, all the way to the northern coast of the continent. It separates the vast deserts of the Cyranhei Confederation and the dry grasslands of the Kingdom of Dradowia from the lush forests of the Kingdom of Scorcia, Migtia, the Ravenian Empire, and the Grand Duchy of Bearia. It also happens to be one of the richest regions in natural resources and is a blessing for any nation to share a border with.

It is extraordinarily difficult to traverse what can only be described as a geological wall that separates the continent. By being at the southern end of the Heimfara Mountain Range, Scorcia benefits by being one of two nations to have easy and direct access to the other side of the mountains; the other nation is the Grand Duchy of Bearia in the northern end of the mountain range. Roads connect Scorcia to the Cyranhei Confederation along its western coast, where the terrain is flatter.

As a result of the region’s vast natural resources, the base and valleys of the mountains became hotspots for mining operations. Ores of every kind are mined by every nation that has access to it. Some areas of the mountain range are more valuable than others. The regions the Ravenian Empire borders, for example, has some of the highest concentration of magic crystals in the world. This is one of the many reasons for Ravenia’s rise to prominence. They are the largest source of magic crystals.

In Scorcia, the most valuable resources are basic metals and minerals. Though mines often uncover a variety of different ores, the knowledge of their uses and chemical properties are nearly non-existent, and many ores are considered worthless. Such is the case for many other nations.

The only entities with any sliver of interest in metals other than iron, copper, tin, lead, gold, silver, or platinum happen to be the Great Powers, academic institutions, and private researchers. The desire or curiosity to dive into the world of physics and chemistry is overshadowed by the overwhelming emphasis on magic and magic crystals. This difference in technological thinking led civilizations to put magic on the center stage for future development. Only recently has someone tried to divert away from the magic-centric world of technology.

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Not far into the mountain range are mines belonging to the SouthHeim Mining Company. Just a hundred and fifty miles north of the Scorcian capital city, Scorrest, workers are underway to revolutionize how the mining company operates. In partnership with Ardai Industries, a slew of machines have been delivered to the mines to kickstart the wide adoption of Ardai’s revolutionary technology unseen anywhere else.

In a valley in a hilly region, Ken sits under a tree, eating an apple, as he watches all the workers work on their tasks. Chatting, footsteps, coughing, crumbling rock, and steam whistles overpower the natural sound of chirping birds and blowing wind. Miners of different sizes, ages, and capabilities, covered in dirt and sweat, enter and exit the nearby mine carrying pickaxes. Mercenaries and adventurers stand guard in the outer perimeter of the work area since monster attacks aren’t out of the ordinary.

Massive snow-covered mountains are in the far distance, prevalent even behind the lush green foliage that surrounds the worksite. Within the worksite, trees are sparse, and grass has turned to dirt. The area was cleared out to make room for the mine and required equipment. It’s a splotch of industrialization in the otherwise pleasing scene of nature’s beauty.

The sight of the workers, however, is particularly grim. In addition to the poor work conditions, Ken is disgusted to see that some workers are clearly children. Boys and girls who should be at home, instead, are working alongside the miners, transporting baskets of raw ore and coal.

It’s a clear reminder that Ken is in a very different world. One where child labor isn’t illegal, isn’t, taboo, and isn’t unexpected. He tries to look in different directions and avoid paying too much attention to it. All he hears as he looks around at the picturesque mountainous terrain he finds himself in is the constant coughing of returning miners.

One of the many issues miners encounter deep in the mines is the toxic atmosphere. High temperatures inside the cramped mines are among the many dangers that miners face, but far from the deadliest. Dying of heatstroke is trivial in the face of death from an unseen killer. Edward Rutland, SouthHeim’s representative, informed Ken of some of the stranger and more devastating dangers the mining industry faces.

Miners have often died from a toxic gas that sometimes seeps from the mines. When it fills a mine, it suffocates the miners within, trapping them in a bubble of an unknown fume. Edward also mentioned a few incidents in which mines were destroyed by unexplainable explosions. Survivors recounted that the same gas that suffocates a person could ignite from the flame of a candle or the spark of a pickaxe striking rock.

Hundreds of people can die from an explosion, with further deaths after a mine collapses. With all the information given to him, Ken deduced that the unknown gas was likely methane and subsequently informed Edward. Edward was surprised at how Ken could figure out what the mysterious gas was and was thankful at informing him. His recommendation to replace candles with other light sources was taken into consideration, and news of its effects should be made soon enough.

Another issue Ken was already aware of is that many mines face flooding from either rain or underground reservoirs. Along with the steam engines brought along with the convoy from Efielge are pumps. With the pumps, it’s expected that miners will have an easier time working in areas where water might be present. Some of the pumps are also to be modified to circulate air to create some sort of ventilation system, which is a concept highly popular with the miners themselves.

On the topic of steam engines, rails have also been constructed at Ken’s directions, and miners are currently experimenting with its uses. With rails stretching throughout the mines, carts driven by steam engines should be able to haul heavier loads of ore than any person or animal. At the very least, Ken takes comfort in the thought that the children toting baskets of ore will be replaced by steam-powered carts on rails. What work will be allocated to them? He neither knows nor wants to know.

As Ken tries to relax while eating his apples, he notices one of the children staring at him from afar. It’s a little boy holding an empty basket, dirtied with dust. His eyes indicate weariness and fatigue. The child is likely hungry as nothing else can explain the boy’s interest in Ken.

Ken takes a fresh apple beside him and suggests it to the boy, thinking he might want one. The young boy approaches Ken and eagerly accepts the apple before taking a big bite out of it.

“You enjoy that?” Ken asks.

The apples are nothing special. They are small and lack taste, much like all other fruits in Adon, but Ken sees that the boy is delighted as he nods at Ken’s question.

“Enjoy it.”

The boy continues to eat the apple at a fast pace. He nearly chokes with every swallow, and Ken worries about what kind of food the children eat on a daily basis. It’s a terrible circumstance for any kid to be in, but no one bats an eye. Had Ken political power, he’d outlaw child labor. Alas, he doesn’t, so he can’t.

“What are you doing here, mister?” the boy asks as he slows down.

“I’m just taking a break before I leave.”

“Where do you live? Do you live in Scorrest? Are you a noble?”

“No, not a noble, not from Scorrest.”

“Really? You don’t look like a commoner. Are you a merchant?”

“Yeah, something like that. I came here for a little business.”

“What kind of business?”

“See those there?” Ken points at the steam engines, carts, and rails that workers are fiddling with. “I designed those. I’m selling them to the owners of the mine.”

“Wow,” the boy looks in awe. He has no idea what the machines do but assumes they do something incredible. It’s not like any other equipment he’s seen before. “You must be rich.” The boy turns to Ken.

“I guess you can say that,” Ken responds.

“Can you take me with you?” the boy asks.

“What?” Ken asks, stunned at the sudden question.

“Work here is hard. It’s not fun. But you are rich, right? So I thought you could take me with you.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Please? I’ll work for you. I promise I’ll cause you no trouble.”

“No, no. I really can’t.”

The boy looks down in disappointment while Ken takes a bite of another apple.

“Where are your parents, anyway?” Ken asks the boy.

“They ain’t here,” he mutters. “They died long ago.”

“Oh. Sorry to hear that.”

Ken didn’t expect such an answer and immediately regrets asking. It’s hard enough seeing children working in a mine. Knowing that some don’t have parents on top of it makes the situation worse. It’s truly an unforgiving world.

“If you don’t mind, why are you here?” Ken asks the boy.

“I used to live in a village far from here. After my parents died, someone came to the village. He promised he would help me if I worked for him and that I would live a better life. I told him no because I didn’t want to leave the village. I guess he got mad because monsters attacked the village the next day and my home was destroyed. Almost died too, but I fled.”

Ken immediately stopped chewing on his apple. The story the kid tells sounds strangely familiar. A long-forgotten memory surfaces in Ken’s mind of a child he met on Earth. A child whose circumstances followed a similar path to the boy he is speaking to now.

Living in a bad spot, a saving hand appeared, but the boy refused. He didn’t want to leave the world he grew up with. The only difference between the two stories is that the saving hand in Ken’s memory had no ill intent. Once refused, the saving hand disappeared. It hesitated even when the boy needed it most, ultimately leading the boy towards a depressing scenario he couldn’t escape.

A feeling of guilt rises within Ken as he remembers the actions that brought death into the boy’s life in his failed attempt to save him from war.

“Then I joined a group of people traveling to this place, and I got hired to work with them. Now I’m trying to earn enough money to go somewhere else.” The boy finishes his story.

Ken stares into the distance as a single gunshot echoes within his mind. The boy notices Ken stopped paying attention to his story and taps Ken’s arm.

“Mister. Are you okay?”

“Wha—oh, yeah. Sorry, you just… reminded me of someone.”

“Really? Who is it?”

“It’s uh… I forgot. Look, kid, it was nice talking to you, but I should get going.” Ken stands up and towers over the boy.

“Aw. That’s too bad,” the boy says.

“Yeah, sorry, kid. I’m a busy person.” Ken turns to walk away from the boy. With the memory fresh in his mind, he can’t bear to look at the boy any longer. Or any of the other children, for that matter.

Ken walks towards an area where carriages are grouped with horses nearby. He rubs his face and tries to forget past flashbacks, and focuses on what comes next. He has completed what he needed to do in the Heimfara mines. The SouthHeim workers seem to have grasped the function of his machines, and their output and efficiency should increase soon. Task completed.

This is perfect, but the real reason he came all this way is something else. Now, he’ll leave the Heimfara Mountains and travel back down south. His next stop is the city of Scorrest, where he’ll need to investigate a lead on drug smuggling.

“Mister Kai!”

A voice calls out to Ken. He swivels his head to see one of the mine’s managers approaching him with something in his hands.

“Leaving already?”

“Yeah, my job here is done. Thought I’d better get going. I have work to do back home.”

“Before you leave, Mister Rutland sent this your way.” The manager presents Ken with a large magic crystal. “A gift to celebrate our partnership with Ardai Industries.”

Ken takes the dark purple crystal in his hand and says, “Thank you. This feels heavier than usual.”

“That right there is one of a kind. It’s dense with energy and very valuable. It’s rare to find such a crystal. You likely won’t find one like that in the market.”

“In that case, give Edward my thanks,” Ken says and smiles.

“Of course, Mister Kai. Have a safe trip.”

“Many thanks again.”

The two men go their separate ways, and Ken peeks at the crystal as he walks towards his stagecoach. As interesting as magic is, Ken doesn’t see much use in using it as he never encountered any problem that would necessitate it. Generating electricity is pretty much the only thing he’s used a crystal for, which surprisingly shocked people since ‘lightning magic’ is supposed to be challenging to learn. Nevertheless, the steam turbine and generator displaced the need for crystals, so the one Ken holds will likely just be sold or gifted to someone who wants it.

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Reverberating noise of hooves fills the interior of a large black stagecoach traveling down a dirt road in the forest. It’s a small caravan made up of three carriages painted black, with the center coach being larger than the other two. Large horses pull each one at a decently fast speed. They are stronger than Earth’s horses due to selective breeding and magic enhancements from current civilizations. The caravan has been traveling for many hours and has covered roughly eighty miles since the previous break. They are just about a dozen miles from the outskirts of Scorrest.

Ken sits idly in the center stagecoach, which is a modified A1 Coach. It’s his own personal coach that has different features than every other production A1. Its larger size means it’s also heavier, which is a result of added armor. Extra steel was added to the frame, doors, walls, and just about anything else that Ken could add rigidity to. Though it wasn’t expected, he wanted to make sure that his coach could absorb damage and keep going. The only thing he couldn’t reinforce is the horses, which remain vulnerable.

While Ken is alone in his armored coach, the other two are reserved for the guards that came along with him. They are cheap mercenaries that he hired from the Mercenary Guild. They are not expected to come across any trouble, but the extra protection is nice to have.

The ride is relatively smooth. Ken is pleased that the suspension system does its job well in keeping the coach from moving around too violently. He sits alone, in reverie about a variety of different things. His mind constantly jumps from one thing to another. But the interaction with the kid persists in creeping in.

Ken can’t shake off the gunshot that keeps repeating in his mind. He’s had nightmares before about his past experiences as a Green Beret and often replays a scene in his mind to alter the actions he’s made. Just to see if something could have ended differently. Difficulty always multiplies when children are involved.

Ken rubs his eyes and tries to think of something else. His mind drifts to Scorrest. He is heading to Scorrest to investigate suspected drug smuggling by the STC. It was information the EIA gave him long ago. Only now is he acting upon it as his conflict with the STC rises. It’s also an excellent opportunity to grow a relationship with the Ravenians as they will likely want any information regarding the drugs flooding their populace.

Suddenly, the stagecoach stops, and Ken briefly looks through the window.

“Ambush!”

A streak of yellow light flashes across the window as a fireball impacts the stagecoach in front. A fiery explosion decimates the stagecoach as wood splinters and twisted metal fly in all directions.

Ken feels the shockwave, and he ducks down. His first instinct is to reach for his gun in his coat, and he checks the chamber. It’s loaded. He knows it is, but it is always comforting to see the round in the chamber.

“Attack! Kill them all!”

Outside, arrows fly from the forest towards the caravan. Unknown enemies appear and engage Ken’s mercenaries. The clash of swords echoes through the forest as a battle commences. A mercenary is slain just as an enemy is also struck down. Arrows continue to rain down. The hidden archers also target Ken’s armored coach, but all the arrows ricochet as they fail to penetrate the armor.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

Inside, Ken weighs his options. The attacking force is unknown. He doesn’t know where they are, how many, why, or what they are attacking with. He decides to observe the battle from the safety of his armored coach to determine what he should do. The pinging of arrows hitting the armor rings his ears, and he grips his Glock tighter.

As the battle progresses, the hidden enemies reveal themselves. Archers and mages walk out of the trees and bushes to continue their attacks unhindered. More bodies are falling as the defending mercenaries dwindle in number. The horses are long dead, and any chance to drive away is gone. Another fireball flies to the stagecoach in the back, and it explodes in another fiery inferno.

“Keep fighting!” a mercenary yells, trying to encourage his comrades to beat back the attackers.

The time to counterattack is now. Ken slowly opens the door to take shots at the attackers, but he notices one of the mages lift up his staff at him. Another fireball is launched, and he quickly closes the door. The fireball impacts, and another explosion rocks the area. The glass window shatters, and Ken is knocked onto the floor. The armor on the coach prevents it from being annihilated, but the blast is enough to tilt over the coach.

It leans and eventually falls on its side, exposing the damage it had received. Wooden parts of the coach are on fire, the suspension is destroyed, and the frame is bent. The glass window is shattered, and Ken groans from within.

The clashes of swords continue as the mercenaries fight, but the survivors start to rethink their circumstances. With adrenaline going through his veins, Ken hurriedly climbs out of the window. It’s the only way out as the explosion bent the hinges and locked the door. Arrows fly past his head, and he lets himself fall to the ground, using the coach as a shield.

“Fuck!” Ken yells to himself.

He is shaken but unhurt. He can still fight, and so he peaks around the damaged stagecoach and starts taking shots at the attackers. He aims and pulls the trigger. His gun is unsuppressed, and the gunshots catch everyone’s attention. Despite this, the fighting doesn’t stop.

Ken’s targets are the mages and archers. Every shot he takes strikes a mage. The enemy is unprepared to face firearms and fails to put up any kind of magic shield.

An arrow strikes the coach’s body and ricochets near Ken, sparks causing him to hold out his arm in front of his face. It’s a close call, but he continues to take accurate and precise shots. Despite his heart rate pumping fast, his breathing is slow. He can’t afford to waste any rounds as he doesn’t have any more magazines on his body. They are in the coach, which is a mangled mess.

Pretty quickly, all sixteen rounds have been fired. The slide lock back, and Ken pulls back and crouches behind the stagecoach. The mages are dead, most archers are dead, some of their swordsmen are dead, but his mercenaries are nearly all gone. The battle is near its end, but he is on the losing side.

“Surrender! Your defeat is imminent!”

Suddenly, a swordsman appears from the other side of the stagecoach, who tries to flank Ken. He notices this is stands back up with a combat knife as his last resort. The two face off in hand-to-hand combat.

The swordsman swings out his sword wide and attempts to cut Ken in half. Ken crouches down and bounces back up after the blade strikes the stagecoach beside them. Swiftly, Ken rams his knife into the swordsman’s neck, killing him.

“There you are!”

More enemy swordsmen appear, and Ken takes the sword from the dead foe to utilize against the attackers. He’s inexperienced with a sword, but it gives him further reach. He frantically swings the sword at the attackers and miraculously manages to kill one of them. But they are too many. Ken decides that he should escape; he can’t kill them all.

The enemy swordsmen close the distance, and Ken quickly climbs onto the stagecoach before he is struck and killed.

“Coward! Come back here!”

Ken rolls off the other side of the stagecoach and sees the carnage that unfolded upon the mercenaries. They are all dead or nearly dead. Defeated, some fled, some surrendered, but most are slain.

More enemies close in and try to surround Ken. Suddenly, he remembers the magic crystal in his pocket. He also remembers how he’s seen people use it to cast a fireball. All he’s ever done with magic is generate electricity, but now, he will need to try and use the crystal to defend himself.

“Kill him!”

Ken clutches the crystals and holds out his other hand as if trying to summon a fireball. Some of the attackers flinch, but nothing happens.

“Can’t use magic, eh?”

Some of the attackers smile and laugh at Ken’s lack of skill, and one of the lunges at Ken.

Ken jumps away and again tries to summon a fireball. With the limited knowledge of magic, all Ken knows is that it seems to follow basic rules in physics. Energy can neither be created nor destroyed. The fireball has to come from something somewhere. But what and where exactly?

The enemy swordsmen attack again, and Ken continues to dodge and roll away. His mind races to make the crystal do something but fails to do anything.

More of the attackers close in and encircle Ken. He has no escape. Another lunges at him, and he dodges the blade, then he decides to tackle his foe to the ground, still clutching the crystal.

While the two are on the ground, more attackers near and pin Ken to the ground. Three people are no on top of him, trying to restrain him or kill him through suffocation. Desperation builds up as he no longer cares to create a fireball so long as the crystal does anything at all.

As if answering his call, the crystal glows with a purple hue. Ken doesn’t know what’s happening but is relieved that it’s happening. He can feel his body becoming tired and weary by the millisecond. The attackers look at the crystal in fear. Before they can run away or act, it explodes.

It’s not a typical explosion. It’s something else. It’s an incredible display of blue flames; a colossal shockwave rips through the forest as bodies are lifted and thrown like ragdolls. The ground trembles, trees shake, and birds fly away in all directions. The shockwave is even enough to rip apart sections of the armored stagecoach.

Then there is silence. Pure, uneasy silence.

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