Chapter 557 — Cutting Edge
Blade of Dawn · Page 1 of 4
The banks of the Whitewater River were thronged with people.
Tens of thousands had gathered on the high ground along both banks, watching the river with curiosity, excitement, and a faint thread of tension. Locals, newly settled migrants, and traveling merchants who happened to pass through—not one of them could resist wondering what the magical construct to be unveiled today would actually look like. Word had it that it was a ship, a ship driven by magic. Some who knew the story of the Battle of Rock Fortress still remembered that the fortress had been breached by two "magic battleships," and those two magic battleships had reportedly been nothing more than prototypes...
There was no doubt about it: what would appear on the Whitewater today was the largest construct Cecil's magical industry had ever shown the public since its founding.
On the riverbank, several merchants from the northern regions were chatting animatedly. One of them spoke with barely concealed anticipation: "How much cargo do you reckon that new ship can haul in one trip?"
Someone beside him burst out laughing at once. "Didn't you hear the program? It's a warship..."
"You've got no eye for this!" the first merchant shot back immediately. "All this time, and you still don't understand the lord's style? Whatever technology goes into a warship will surely be used for civilian purposes too. Besides, Lady Rebecca said just now..."
"Fair enough. I hear Kodd over in Kalor has already bought a magic truck..."
Behind the merchants, a hunched old man could not help shaking his head. "I don't see what's so special about that ship. A ship is nothing but a big wooden tub that floats on water..."
A young man nearby immediately mocked him. "Old man Kaur, didn't you say cars were nothing but planks propped up on a few wheels?"
The old man, thus mocked, puffed out his beard and glared. "What would you know, you little brat! I've never built a car, but I've built boats half my life! What kind of boat haven't I seen?"
The young man looked at the puffing, glaring old man and was about to say something more, but a sudden thunderous blast from the river cut off everyone's conversation.
It was a steam whistle—sonorous, full-bodied, brimming with power, so loud that it made people's hearts clench in their chests.
Wrapped in thin mist, a hazy silhouette appeared on the river to the east, and a second whistle rolled out from deep within the pale fog.
After a brief silence, the crowds on the eastern banks erupted in earth-shaking cheers and cries of shock, and then those cries and cheers spread along both banks of the Whitewater all the way toward them.
The people on the riverbank stared wide-eyed. They did not know what manner of construct it was, that it could provoke such a reaction—but soon they saw it clearly. It was a colossal thing of steel.
It was larger than any riverboat they had ever seen, more imposing and majestic than any warship. That steel-forged behemoth combined a rigid texture with elegant curves; it cut through the waves of the Whitewater, yet no billowing sails and no rowing oars were to be seen. The only thing on the whole vessel that brought "sails" to mind were the "wing panels" on either side of the hull—but those panels were formed from neat rows of metal blades, covered in faintly glowing runes and magic-line tracery. Clearly they were not the direct source of the ship's propulsion. This sail-less, oar-less vessel moved under the power of some magical machine; brilliant sunlight beat upon its metal hull and deck, a sight of astonishing and overwhelming force.