The mournful sound of the steam whistle broke Mored's dozing off. He rubbed his bleary eyes, stretched, and sat up to look out the window.
The steam airship he was on was passing through the anti-aircraft towers near Calford Port, over the breakwater, officially entering the airspace of the port.
Ships of all sizes were docked at the pier, and tall mechanical cranes were loading and unloading cargo.
The steam ejected from the steam towers formed a layer of mist at low altitude, covering the entire city like a veil.
It was now the year 462 of the New Era, on the forty-second day of the Grey Night month.
The New Era, also known as the Steam Era, began with the invention of the first steam engine, marked by a new calendar system revised by scholars from several countries.
Nearly a hundred years had passed since the devastating Nine Nations War, its wounds no longer visible, and the Karan continent was flourishing in peace.
At least on the surface, it seemed so.
"Ladies and gentlemen, our airship will now begin its descent, which will be accompanied by some turbulence. Please fasten your seat belts, and thank you for your cooperation."
The flight attendant's voice, accompanied by a strong current of static, suggested that the newly introduced loudspeakers needed improvement.
Perhaps adding an anti-magnetic coil to the transmission cables could be a lucrative opportunity.
Mored casually took out a small notebook to record this thought, then checked his seat belt.
The airship, by continuously releasing its lifting gases, slowly descended.
In this era, the cost of producing nitrogen had been reduced to the same as oxygen, allowing small airships to use nitrogen instead of expensive helium.
During landing, the amount of nitrogen in the airbags could be adjusted based on altitude, eliminating the need for tall towers to dock steam airships, a cost-saving that could be redirected to building specialized airship aprons.
With technological advancements, traveling by airship had become as common and affordable as steamship travel.
Watching the ground enlarge, and delving into the steel forest interconnected by complex pipelines, Mored's thoughts flew back to several months ago.
Before his recuperation in the Floris Mountain region, he was bustling about for the admission qualifications to the University of Floran.
Minutes later, the steam airship arrived near Calford Port's Smilan Airport. Following the signal lights of the control tower, it glided to a designated airspace and then dropped its heavy anchor.
The lead-made object dragged across the ground for a distance, slowing down the airship under the pull of gravity and the resistance of the sandy ground until it came to a stop and approached the ground.
Due to uneven forces, the airship began to sway with the ocean breeze, snapping Mored back to reality.
"Ah, have we arrived?"
He murmured, attempting to mask his inner unease with self-talk, but his throbbing heart refused to heed his pleas, beating faster in a weightless state.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have arrived at the port of Calford in the Kingdom of Esflore.
Thank you for flying with Haley Airlines' HAC143 steam airship. We look forward to meeting you again.
Have a wonderful day, goodbye."
Minutes after the flight attendant's announcement, accompanied by a series of bumps, the airship hovered just a few centimeters above the ground.
Mored looked out the window.
Ground crew were quickly securing the airship in place with ropes.
Minutes later, the cabin door opened, and a temporary staircase was brought over, allowing passengers to disembark one by one.
Mored waited for his seatmate to leave before unfastening his seat belt and picking up his backpack from the floor.
He made his way down the narrow aisle that allowed only two people to pass and reached the cabin door.
The wind, carrying the unique smell of coal and sulfur of modern cities along with the salty moisture of the sea, almost made him sneeze.
Adjusting his slightly skewed hat, Mored carried his luggage down the temporary stairs to the ground.
Following the directions of the ground staff, he joined the crowd without special car transfers and headed towards the airport terminal.
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The airport was in full swing, with countless ground staff bustling about, small steam cars towing cylinders of lifting gas rushing towards airships ready for takeoff.
Amidst the chaos, Mored, whose pace of life had been slowed by his time in the mountainous region, found it hard to keep up. He eventually left the apron and entered the bustling terminal.
He checked the notebook for reminders, then followed the signs to exit four.
After showing his documents to the airport security and getting stamped, he passed through the window.
In the spacious lounge, he immediately spotted the silver-haired woman in a Norian-style gray long coat, her 1.8-meter frame standing out in the crowd.
The woman was reading a newspaper, with a sign reading "Mored" placed beside her on the bench.
"Hey, Feirid, what are you reading?"
Mored approached and greeted her.
"Waiting for your airship for over ten minutes without seeing it, I picked up a copy of the Windsor River Post."
After answering Mored's question, Feirid rolled up the newspaper and put it in the small cart beside her for vegetables. "The airship was late today, at least half an hour behind.
If it had been any later, I would have gone to the airline's front desk to inquire."
Feirid stated the exact delay time without looking at her watch, a detail Mored was accustomed to.
"No big deal, the airship had to detour due to an unexpected thunderstorm cloud, causing the delay.
After all, it's Grey Night month, and this kind of situation will soon become common."
"Is that so? Well, as long as you're okay."
Feirid nodded, returned the name tag to the airport staff, and then led Mored to the public transportation hub near the airport, boarding a public tram.
The tram took them along the cable track route through the streets of Calford, the capital and largest port of the Kingdom of Esflore.
Thanks to the Great Seafaring movement that began over a hundred years ago, the discovery of the New Yafis Continent turned Calford Port from a small port into a bustling hub, becoming the trade and maritime center of the Karan continent's southwest, second only to the capital of the Florastal Kingdom, Karlot.
The city expanded, merging the original capital with the port into a large metropolis.
Covering an area of about 1,200 square kilometers, with a comprehensive steam pipeline network and a well-developed underground system, its urbanization level was the highest in the kingdom.
Compared to Mored's hometown of Morton Fort, the steam pipelines here were far more numerous, densely covering the walls of buildings.
Small pavilions leading to the underground system showcased its grandeur.
Mored looked around, comparing his memories of Calford with the reality before him, feeling an inexplicable excitement similar to a country child entering a big city for the first time.
Soon, the tram arrived on Crowley Skulk Street.
Most buildings here were constructed during the reign of Monseuk III, featuring Rondos architecture with a cross-shaped ridge and narrow windows, reflecting the era's new religious atmosphere.
The spaces originally reserved for personal gardens were perfectly suited for laying steam pipelines, so after some modifications, the area blended classical elegance with modern mechanical aesthetics, inspiring many popular novels.
The recent bestseller "The Four Air Gunmen" was set here, making it both familiar and foreign to Mored, like a traveler finally visiting a place seen only in picture books.
Crowley Skulk Street, located in the middle of Bedlan District, was typically inhabited by the kingdom's middle class.
Calford Port, resembling a giant slope, was divided into four areas: the Port District, Walker District, Bedlan District, and Nor District.
After about ten minutes, the tram stopped at the crossroads of the street.
Eishul paid the fare for both and led Mored off the tram.
They passed a small square with a fountain near the station, circumvented several small industrial steam generators forming a power station, avoided several ornately decorated steam cars, and headed towards a somewhat dilapidated two-story apartment.
Rondos architecture, besides being expensive to maintain, often looked like it belonged in the Walker District if the not-so-wealthy inhabitants couldn't afford repairs, giving the buildings a similar appearance.
Their apartment, marked 29A, was surrounded by three other buildings, likely B, C, and D.
Feirid unlocked the door.
Inside, although the furniture was old and wooden, the place felt tidy and cozy.
Mored took a deep breath, entered, closed the door, then took off his black coat and hung it on the coat rack by the door.
"What would you like to eat?"
Feirid asked as she neatly folded her coat and placed it on the shoe cabinet.
"Just some simple noodles."
Mored replied, then took out his slippers from the shoe cabinet.
"Then wait a moment, I'll cook the noodles."
Feirid, wearing an apron and holding the vegetables from the cart, walked into the kitchen.
"Alright, I'll go wash up in the meantime."
Mored went upstairs to the bathroom.
He turned on the tap, cupped some cold water, and washed his somewhat dry and greasy face.
Suddenly, he felt a tightness in his chest.
Realizing something was wrong, Mored quickly turned off the tap, quietly closed the bathroom door, and returned to the sink.
Patting his chest, the oppressive feeling not only didn't dissipate but began to turn into a severe, rolling pain from his chest to his throat.
It was a dry pain, as if he was extremely thirsty, making him want to vomit.
This wasn't a normal feeling of nausea but rather as if he needed to expel something from deep within his body.
The discomfort forced Mored to close his eyes tightly, swallowing saliva continuously, his hands trembling as they supported the sink.
It took a while for the sensation to ease.
Mored gently exhaled a few breaths, turned on the tap, and wiped away the tears that had formed in his eyes.
"What's wrong?"
Feirid, sensing something amiss in the bathroom, came upstairs and knocked on the locked door.
"It's nothing, just a stomachache."
Mored tried to respond calmly.
But as soon as he spoke, the situation worsened.
Before he could finish, a mix of sweetness and a fishy taste surged to his throat.
When Mored closed his mouth, trying to swallow, it was too late.
He felt a sharp pain in his chest, leading to a gag reflex, and along with his saliva, some black blood came out.
Hearing the sounds of vomiting, Feirid quickly found the bathroom key in her lining, unlocked the door, and rushed in.
Seeing Mored washing his hands, she frowned.
"What happened just now?"
"What do you mean? What happened?"
Mored looked at Feirid, who had suddenly barged in, with a puzzled expression.
"Feirid, is there a problem?"
"Nothing, never mind."
Feirid glanced at the sink and then at Mored, shook her head, and left.
Once her footsteps faded away from the second floor, Mored breathed a sigh of relief.
That was close; he nearly got caught.
He rinsed his mouth to remove the taste of blood, then carefully washed his somewhat pale face.
After handling the sudden situation, Mored adjusted the coal machinery, used hot water to soothe his emotions, and then changed into a clean set of clothes.
After double-checking for any visible blood stains on himself, Mored finally left the bathroom and went downstairs.