Chapter 1793 - 498: Cemetery "Technology," A Shocking Revelation! (Part 4)

Unlike those citizens who just arrived today, they watched with their own eyes as the iron dragon swiftly traversed the fields.

A week ago, that black smoke-spewing monster was still parked on the horizon, and in the blink of an eye, it arrived beside the slowly rotating windmills.

They marveled at the power of Thunder City's factories, yet harbored a deep anxiety over the loss of the past.

The things devoured by the steam engine were increasing.

What's next?

"By Saint Sis... what on earth is this thing?" a young farmer couldn't help but swallow and mutter to himself.

"Don't know," said an older farmer, standing beside him, puffing on a clay pipe with narrowed eyes, "but I believe Saint Sis watches over our Majesty, he shouldn't lead us to too bad a place."

He wasn't well-learned and couldn't read the newspaper, but he could understand the illustrations in it.

It was clear that, compared to the old man holding a crown sitting in the slaughterhouse, their Majesty was full of youthful vigor, not much inferior to the venerable Prince Colin.

The benevolence of the Gods towards whom is evident at a glance!

As it turns out, even the most illogical reasoning has a chance of unveiling the Heavenly Secret.

Although Edward wasn't as good-hearted as Erin, he was far better than Your Majesty Theoden Devalu, who troubled his people.

Just as the crowd was whispering amongst themselves, a strong scent of ale wafted over, interrupting their chatter.

The crowd turned their heads, only to see a well-known bachelor from the village hobbling over, staggering as he walked.

"Hey, old pals, what are you all looking at?"

The crowd was shocked to see him appearing drunk.

"Old John?!"

"How come... you're drunk in broad daylight?"

"What kind of fortune did you come into?"

Farmers from Thunder City were wealthier than those from Glanton Castle, but it was still difficult to "splurge" like the workers of Thunder City.

Even the richest weaver wouldn't drink during the day.

"Heh heh..." Old John proudly wiped his ruddy, alcohol-red nose with his index finger, "A fortune? Sort of!"

He deliberately got drunk during the day and came here to show off, just waiting for this gang to ask that question.

His teasing left them itching with curiosity, and they immediately surrounded him, holding his shoulders and asking.

"Cut the nonsense, spill it!"

"What kind of business did you do?"

"Did you gamble?"

"Business? I don't do that kind of thing! As for gambling... I'm not foolish, you can never beat those deceitful adventurers," he hiccuped, pointing at the extending railway, "See that thing? Just yesterday, it passed right over my decrepit old house!"

As he spoke, he couldn't suppress the smile creeping across his face.

"Ha ha, by Saint Sis, the Baron doesn't care about me anymore. Devout Old John was worried about what to do! Just then, people from Your Majesty the Duke knocked on my door and bought my entire shack, including the backyard!"

"Praise our Majesty! It was indeed a large sum of money, enough for me to buy a decent house in the suburbs with some left over! I must say it was my first time seeing what a silver pound looked like."

He couldn't be called devout.

A devout person would never drink like this on a worship day, nor would they draw a cross on their chest while drunk.

This was even more blasphemous than calling a village girl a Holy Daughter.

But even so, it didn't stop him from praying for the respectable Duke Edward, as such things had never happened in the past thousand years.

Today was the first time.

The farmers exchanged glances, and their eyes were no longer filled with worry over the loss of the past, only naked envy remained.

"...Damn," muttered the young farmer enviously, looking at Old John and saying sourly, "If only that iron contraption could pass in front of my house too."

...

The heated discussion wasn't limited to the windmills in the fields.

As townsfolk who went to the outskirts to watch brought back what they had seen and heard to the city, the citizens of Thunder City finally had a tangible impression of the railway.

The taverns in the New Industrial Zone were bustling with noise, so loud it seemed like the roof might get blown off.

As expected, today's hottest topic was no longer about who might become the street's councilman, but rather about the miracle that His Majesty the Duke was building.

Listening to the nonsense of those youngsters who knew nothing, a messy-bearded old man slammed his beer mug on the table, white foam splashing everywhere.

He made no attempt to hide his disdain, sneering as he spoke.

"Roads made of iron? Just to let that black metal monster run? Utter nonsense!"

Before anyone could refute, he pointed his finger at the freight carriage outside the tavern, still loaded with barrels of beer.

"That thing, it can leisurely cover eighty kilometers a day and isn't picky about the road! How fast can that iron monster go? I doubt it's faster than a horse! Just wait, when it rains in two months, this thing will rust away! All the silver pounds spent will be wasted!"

"Old man, you've got it wrong."

A fabric merchant sitting at a neighboring table interjected with a smile, having just returned from the outskirts that day and witnessing the scene firsthand.

He was thoroughly astounded by the sight.

"You haven't seen how much cargo that monster can pull! I counted, twelve whole carriages, filled with steel and wooden sleepers! From my experience, what's loaded in a single carriage would take at least a dozen wagons to carry—"

"That's impossible!" The messy-bearded old man widened his eyes, "Can horses bear it? Can the road handle it?"

"That's why rails are needed, right?" the fabric merchant responded with a smile, "If you don't believe it, that's fine. Once the first station is completed, you can buy a ticket and experience it... Anyway, I plan to try out this wonderful thing. If it's as amazing as the newspapers say, we won't need to take the Rushing River for the trade route to Glanston Castle."

Another businessman seated with him nodded in agreement, his ambitious face also filled with anticipation for that day.

"If this thing can transport the grain from the Valley Plain in one go, the price of grain in Thunder City could drop by thirty percent!"

Not only would it reduce the price of grain by thirty percent.

He saw even further ahead!

This brand-new means of transportation could not only change the economic landscape of the Campbell Duchy but might also alter the lives of people—

For instance, allowing the workers of Thunder City to drink milk!

From his dealings with farms, he knew fresh milk spoils easily, turning sour if not refrigerated or boiled within a day.

Most people couldn't afford space rings or refrigerated magic devices, so city dwellers could only consume "fresh milk" from nearby farms within a radius of twenty to thirty kilometers.

Although there were many pastures around Thunder City, the high logistics costs and inherent risks meant milk was destined to be a food on the tables of the nobility, and an ordinary worker's family could rarely consume genuine "fresh milk," with the diet being primarily butter and other dairy products.

However, the emergence of the railway made this possible.

He could already envision a vast market slowly unfolding before his eyes.

Due to the booming economy and open society, Thunder City, post-civil war, was experiencing a baby boom, and orders for diapers from the textile factories were unprecedentedly high.

Maybe he could think of an idea from the newspapers, like spending some money on an ad promoting how milk is better than human milk...

People plunged into fantasies and heated debates about the future.

"But what about us coachmen?" a driver shouted anxiously, "And the boatmen on the Rushing River... is this iron monster going to steal our business?"

"Why be afraid! There will only be more business in the future!" said a cheerful dockworker, "At worst, you can come work with me, and you won't even have to pay for carriage rental!"

A supposedly devout believer drew a cross on his chest and sighed.

"I'm more worried about our Majesty the Duke. What if the rails run through the priest's vineyard? And those cemeteries..."

Arguments ebbed and flowed, with no one able to convince another.

Yet, whether they were worried or excited, accepting or resisting, everyone vaguely realized that a brand-new era was roaring towards them, like that smoke-belching monster, with an unstoppable momentum.

Nobody knew where Duke Edward's train would ultimately lead.

But at least for now, those just emerging from the shadow of civil war were filled with anticipation for the future.