Chapter 494: Observations
Iron Beast疾驰于广袤的 Wasteland，Steam Piston 持续运转，发出有节奏的 dull sound.
Hours slipped by unnoticed. Joseph stared out the window at the ever-changing landscape, listening to Hya Gati recount the Empire’s history—filled with words like “Loyalty,” “Gratitude,” and endless reverence.
But it was all too polished, too rehearsed. The tale felt inflated, almost nauseating.
This woman is beyond help, Joseph thought.
She had been utterly ensnared by the Red Dragon—now nothing more than a spiritual slave to that monstrous Emperor.
“Look! There’s a city!”
A sharp-eyed Guard suddenly pointed toward the horizon, where the first outlines of a massive black City Wall emerged from the haze.
Joseph turned. The city loomed ahead—far larger, far more imposing than he’d imagined. It radiated an invisible, oppressive pressure. High in the sky, twin-headed dragons circled, patrolling like sentinels.
“This must be Isdalia—the Imperial Capital of the Empire of Ashen,” he mused.
It was true: unlike the once-glorious Holy City of Teotihuacan, the former heart of the Fadalan Empire, this place bore no memory of purity.
Even the poorest, most lowly citizens of old Fadalan had once stood proud, chest puffed, when they spoke of Teotihuacan—the most glorious sight humanity could ever dream of.
But war had left its scars.
After years of conflict, the sacred city now stood broken and scarred, choked with gunsmoke. The moats outside its walls were filled with the corpses of soldiers from the three warring kingdoms. Rivers of blood had turned the ditches into blood-filled trenches.
South’s war.
Joseph sighed deeply, a quiet sorrow in his chest.
After a long pause, he finally spoke:
“A fine city, indeed. But as an imperial capital… it still feels… something is missing.”
Hya Gati pointed toward the wall.
“This is Blackstone Fortress—the largest fortress city in the Empire’s South.”
Joseph’s expression froze. His words died in his throat.
He said nothing more, only stared—silent, wide-eyed—as the city drew nearer.
“Blackstone Fortress Station—arrived.”
The conductor’s voice rang clear through the carriage, amplified by some unseen mechanism.
The train slowed, then stopped at the gate. On the platform, Empire citizens poured into the carriages.
Passengers weren’t just Human. There were Great Goblins, Tieflings, Half-Ogres, even full-blooded Ogres. The caravan’s guards shifted uneasily.
Humans and monsters lived side by side, even exchanging casual words. To seasoned warriors who’d fought monsters across the wilds, this was nothing short of astonishing.
“Move aside!”
“Clear the aisle!”
“Lord Baron, you’re going to Isdalia too?”
The carriage buzzed with noise. But Joseph was spared the chaos—he’d booked a private cabin. And Ogres, being large, had their own dedicated special carriage.
He blinked in surprise, then refocused his attention on Blackstone Fortress.
Even with the towering city wall blocking the view, he could still glimpse the streets beyond the gate: pristine, wide, and smooth. The buildings stood in perfect, identical rows—like copies made from a single mold.
An excellent city, he thought.
From a commercial standpoint, it was a dream. From a military one, the thick, high walls with their protruding turrets were an impenetrable fortress.
If even a common city was built like this…
What must the Imperial Capital be like?
He watched the crowds flooding in—people rushing, eager, purposeful.
Then he turned to Hya Gati and asked, “Why are so many people heading to Isdalia? What are they here for?”
She smiled faintly.
“Isdalia is His Majesty’s sacred coronation place—the heart of the Empire. It offers the most jobs, the highest wages. But in return, land is impossibly scarce. Common nationals can’t afford to buy homes here. Even a single underground dungeon sells for over a hundred Golden Nael.”
She paused, then added wryly, “So some live in other cities, commuting daily by Steam Locomotive.”
“Is that so?” Joseph was stunned. He’d never heard of such a lifestyle—living in one city, working in another.
Hya Gati let out a dry chuckle.
“If I could afford a house in Isdalia, I wouldn’t be guiding tourists in the Tower Hall.”
The train roared forward again, crossing mountains and passing more cities.
“Amanata above!”
The Guard in the front row gasped, mouth agape, unable to contain his awe.
Joseph turned to the window. Though he’d prepared himself, the sight still struck him like a thunderbolt.
“By the gods…”
He whispered, breathless.
Before him stretched an endless wall of towering city, a breathtaking architectural complex unlike any he’d seen—majestic, unique, surreal. A massive chimney, impossibly tall, rose from the distance, belching gray smoke into the sky.
But the true marvel was the colossal stone pillar at the city’s heart—hundreds of meters high. Upon its summit stood a magnificent white altar, wreathed in mist, glowing like a portal to the divine realm.
That was the Isdalia Grand Altar.
For a moment, Joseph was transported back to his sixth year—standing in front of the Holy City, gazing up at the Eternal Sun God’s Tower. That same awe, that same sense of wonder, surged through him now.
“Truly… a miracle,” he murmured, the words escaping his lips.
Hya Gati looked up, her face solemn, reverent.
“Yes, Joseph. For us Anzeta people, it is a miracle.”
She clasped her hands. “That altar—where King Kai Xiusu was crowned. No matter where you stand in Isdalia, if you look up, you’ll see it. The sacred place.”
“Isdalia South Gate—arrived. Remember His Majesty’s Gratitude. Please disembark in an orderly fashion.”
“Finally!”
“Move it! You’ll be docked if you’re late!”
Passengers filed out. Joseph took a deep breath, steadied himself, then stepped down with his caravan.
He ordered the guards to unload the cargo, gather their gear, and they marched into the city in full formation.
The roads were wider than he’d imagined—broader than even the main thoroughfare of the Holy City. Dozens of wagons could travel side by side.
The pavement was flawlessly smooth, laid with dark stone debris that felt like polished black glass—no bumps, no unevenness. Joseph couldn’t help but marvel.
On either side of the road ran tracks. Small Steam Locomotives glided along them, while citizens waited on platforms, moving between zones.
The city teemed with life.
Humans, Tieflings, Great Goblins, Half-Ogres, Semi-Goatfolk, Ogres—every race walked the streets, bustling, hurrying, utterly absorbed in their daily lives.
And yet, they coexisted with ease.
To the people here, foreign species were not threats—just part of the rhythm of life.
“Citizen! Observe the city regulations!”
A Wyvern-riding Knight patrolled the sky. Tiefling Guards in military formation marched down the street, rifles at the ready.
Their caravan, unremarkable in such a place, blended into the background.
Then a towering Ogre approached.
The Guard flinched, raising his shield, sweat pouring down his face.
He’d fought Ogres in the wilderness before—his comrades had been devoured alive. He knew their brutal, primal nature. And he feared them.
But the Ogre just sneered, snorted through its nose.
“Foolish country bumpkin. First time in the Imperial Capital, and you’re already panicking?”
“Yeah, stupid and weak, Human.”
Another Ogre in a suit echoed, grinning.
They walked off, cursing under their breath.
The Guard trembled, soaked in sweat. He thought he’d be next.
But they just… walked away?
Joseph couldn’t help but speak.
“Hya Gati, I’ve been meaning to ask—how do they manage to suppress their innate nature? Ogres, Two-Headed Dragons… they’re the most brutal creatures known. Yet here they are—civilized, orderly, even obeying laws?”
Hya Gati looked at him as if it were obvious.
She raised her eyes to the sky, where the white altar gleamed above the clouds.
“Only because of His Majesty.”
She folded her hands. “His wisdom is as deep as the ocean. He transformed these ignorant beings, granted them the light of civilization.”
Joseph fell silent.
Before arriving in the Empire, he’d believed it was a land ruled by an evil Red Dragon—a place of endless suffering, where people were chained in mines, forced to produce deadly rifles to feed the Dragon’s endless greed.
But this… this was nothing like that.
In Hya Gati’s voice, the Dragon Emperor wasn’t a tyrant. He was a radiant, divine figure—worshipped by millions.
And as Joseph looked at the grand, uniquely designed buildings, he began to wonder:
Could the Red Dragon truly possess divine power?
How else could he have transformed this barren, desolate Anzeta—once a wasteland—into this?
Suddenly, a soft melody drifted from afar.
A hymn, clear and haunting, echoed through the city, lingering in the air like a prayer.
Joseph frowned.
“What is that…?”
Hya Gati’s eyes lit up.
“It’s the Hymn to Kai Xiusu! A blessed tune!”
She grinned. “Ah, Joseph—today is the 29th of February. The Coronation Day is coming. It’s the Empire’s greatest festival of the year.”
Her voice trembled with excitement.
Joseph stood still, listening to the refrain:
“This gratitude—when shall it be repaid?”
He fell silent again.
And for the first time, he began to doubt.
If the people of this nation were truly so fanatical, so unwavering in their faith…
Then the danger level of the Empire of Ashen was far greater than anyone could imagine.
(End of Chapter)
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