Chapter 664 — All Things Have Changed

Jenny looked at this knight who had accompanied her all the way from the Southern Frontier to the capital. Her mild nature, which disliked putting others to trouble, kept her from insisting. She nodded. "Then... I'll have to trouble you, Sir Knight."

Minutes later, two black magitech vehicles bearing the Cecil insignia left the southern district of Holy Sunil and drove along the centuries-old Iron Cross Street toward the mage quarter of the inner city.

Beyond the windows, the old, mottled dwellings receded continuously. The wheels rolled over the uneven flagstones, and the faint jolting seemed to stir Jenny's restless thoughts as well. She leaned against the window, her gaze drifting slowly over the familiar streets and buildings, over the crowds in whom she could still faintly recognize some memory, as the vehicle moved on.

There were fewer pedestrians on the streets than she remembered. They still wore coarse hemp garments, patched and drab, hurrying along with numb faces. Now and then someone would stop at a street corner, crane their neck toward the magitech vehicle, mouth agape, and stare blankly for a moment—but soon they would lower their heads in awe, as though they dared not meet the eyes of these "magical monsters" pieced together from steel.

The streets of the common quarter were narrow; even with few pedestrians, congestion arose. When the mechanist driving occasionally sounded the horn, many passersby would hunch their shoulders and bow—they bowed in salute to this steel machine that gave off strange noises, so that some even forgot they ought to make way, and the soldiers had to lean out the windows and shout for the crowd to clear the road.

To keep from injuring anyone, the vehicles moved very slowly. Some children, curious, drew close to the magitech vehicles and pointed at the machines from the roadside, but they were quickly slapped by adults and dragged home by the ear.

"Though we've been in the city half a month now, people still haven't gotten used to these new things," said a female magically-empowered combatant sitting beside Jenny, with a touch of embarrassment. She was one of the soldiers who had marched north with the First Legion and taken control of Holy Sunil, and was now assigned to Jenny's escort—to guard her closely on the one hand, and to serve as a guide for the other soldiers on the other. "Things are much better now... On the first day, some commoners even knelt before the magitech vehicles and performed the earth-kissing rite."

Jenny sighed softly. "That has to change... We all went through this period."

"Yes, we all went through it—when the first magitech water pump was installed in my village, my father even forbade us from going near the fields for fear it would eat people. But only a year later, he wanted to pool money with the neighbors to buy a thresher, because the machines at the farm-machinery station were never enough and the queues were always long—and this year's harvest would likely be more than human labor could possibly handle," the soldier said with a laugh, looking at Jenny with deep respect. "And we have masters like you to thank for that."

Jenny was at a loss for how to respond. By nature introverted and forever absorbed in her laboratory, she was poorly equipped to face such direct praise and homage. She could only lower her head and say quietly, "Thank you... but there are still many people far more capable than I."

As they spoke, they had already passed through the commoners' district of the outer city and entered the wealthier, more prosperous quarters of the inner city.

The narrow streets suddenly broadened, and the surrounding houses grew neat and tall. Well-dressed citizens began to appear along the roadside, walking with their heads held high, and at the far end of the street, a cluster of tall spires and gleaming runes floating above the roadway had already caught Jenny's eye.

She drew a soft breath.

The magicians' district of Holy Sunil had arrived.

The two vehicles passed through the streets of the wealthy quarter and drove straight into the magicians' district. The entire area's guard had already been taken over by the Cecil Legion, and the magitech vehicles bearing military insignia met no obstruction whatsoever within the district.

Guided by Jenny, the cars finally came to a stop before a magician's tower some four or five stories high, crowned with a pale violet spire and faced with grayish-white walls.

It was a typical traditional magic tower, the whole structure set upon a sturdy stone foundation, faint magical patterns surfacing across its grayish-white exterior. The heavy, opulent oak door was sealed behind a magical barrier, and above the spire, crystals and metallic structures drifted slowly in orbit around the peak—those crystals and structures served surveillance, early warning, combat, and numerous other functions, and Jenny knew them very well.

A small squad of soldiers climbed down from the vehicles and followed Jenny to the tower. The rune-sealed oak door flickered several times, then the runes dissolved and the great door swung slowly open.

There was no need to knock—the artificial intelligence governing the tower, its tower-spirit, would recognize visitors on its own and alert the guards.

After a brief, silent wait, Jenny saw an apprentice in a dark gray robe emerge from the shadowy doorway.

His name was Mark, one of her mentor's apprentices.

Not a servant-apprentice, but a true apprentice.

Jenny's impression of him was neither good nor bad—he was a young man of middling talent, but at least worth more than a slave. That was about the sum of her opinion of him.

Mark came out with his head lowered, and only when he stood before Jenny did he lift it slightly. He quickly made out the face of the person before him, and astonishment spread across his features; then he noticed the fully armed squad of soldiers behind Jenny, and the two magitech vehicles parked not far off.

The young man's expression turned momentarily bewildered. Then he shrank back his neck and spoke in a tangled, awkward tone: "Jenny, is it... is it really you?"

"It's me. Go tell the mentor I'm back."