-Two hours earlier-

“What made you decide to leave for Alichanteu early?” Vincent asked curiously. “We’ve left three days before we had told Alichanteu we were going to leave.”

Lucille looked out the window. “An... opportunity. The Archduke was interested in my apparent plans to develop new magic engineering products and redevelop cities.” She looked at her aide. “An information network as large as a Duchy’s is bound to know what we’re up to. He’s willing to distract Olden and Radical for us if we can get finished products out on the market sooner.”

That’s the gist of it, anyway.

Vincent looked pensive as he held his chin. “Does he want a share of the profits... or want to control us somehow?”

Lucy shook her head. “In my opinion, having him become invested in this venture is beneficial. He’ll be liable if it goes wrong and could grant us access to resources money can’t buy. But...” She leaned back in the coach and crossed her arms. “He doesn’t seem to want to involve himself personally. As such, this agreement is informal... but an informal agreement with an Eterial Duke can sometimes be as valuable as a formal one.”

Vincent nodded, satisfied with her answer. The third member of their group yawned and used his tail to rub the dust out of his eyes.

“Are we there yet?”

Lucy sighed. “No.”

Scytale waited for a second. “How about now?”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, I get it. You’re annoyed that I haven’t told you where we’re going.” She gestured to the window. “As Count Ravimoux has been staying at the Black Lily because of our plans in the Beast Realm, I was able to get in contact with him so he could organise a secret meeting with Clanlord Krovehearth. It’s for that exact reason I chose to take a normal carriage instead of calling for one from Alichanteu.” Lucille grinned. “Nobody would expect us to be talking to the low-ranked crafters instead of a high-ranking noble of Alichanteu.”

“I’d hardly consider the dwarves ‘low-ranked’,” Vincent pointed out.

“On their own plane, sure. But if they didn’t have the power to demonstrate their authority, the nobles would abuse their services to no end.” Lucy shrugged. “Non-combat classes are looked down on. It doesn’t help that it takes many years before a crafter becomes proficient enough to craft viable weapons either.”

“If that’s the case, Sedric’s Legendary class has accelerated his learning progress many times,” the silver-haired man opposite her mused. “He’s been with us for little over a year yet you even entrusted him with your dimensional artifact.”

“Ah, that actually has nothing to do with his class,” Lucille replied. “I was surprised to hear it too, but his class doesn’t have any effects to boost the rarity of an item once it’s completed. Anything he crafts, outside of his skills enhancing his capabilities, are all a product of his knowledge and expertise.”

Vincent blinked. “Does that mean… Sedric is a genius?”

“Or he has a brilliant teacher,” she replied smugly.

Scytale blew a raspberry in mockery while her aide shook his head. “I suppose that’s one possibility.” He propped his chin up. “Speaking of crafting, what kind of crafting class do you want? You told me you weren’t an alchemist.”

Lucy hummed and looked outside. “My crafting specialties lie in technology from my home world, so it would be hard to come by any of the tools needed. I’m considering gaining a class that will help me develop the machinery I used to then build items. As for what I specialised in… I don’t suppose ‘Hyperdimensional Originator’ means anything to you, does it?”

Vincent shook his head just as the coach pulled to a stop. Lucy swung the doors open, Vincent having stopped bothering to escort her out long ago, and Scytale flew out to land on top of her head.

“This feels nostalgic,” Vincent murmured.

They were standing in front of what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. The sense of nostalgia likely came from the decrepit state of the building before them, with windows boarded up and covered in grime.

“A bit like Sedric’s old home, isn’t it?” Lucy mentioned lightly.

Vincent looked down at her. “Where is this? Are you expecting to meet someone here?”

Lucy glanced at him with a smile, blinking innocently. “I have no idea. I only received the message to come here and nothing else. I can only assume it’s to meet Clanlord Krovehearth.”

Vincent frowned. “They didn’t give you any assurance? Lucille, I don’t think this is a very good idea. For all we know it wasn’t even his crafting faction who called us here. What if one of the Aeternus nobility wishes to extort you for-”

He was interrupted by the load sound of clanging coming from within the warehouse. He eyed the building unsurely as Lucy walked forward and pushed the doors open.

“On Vengad’s beard, if Krovehearth don’t sort out the handlers around this place and hire normal-height people, I’m going to retire,” a stout individual grumbled, rubbing the top of his head. With a thick black beard and heavy hammer hanging from his belted waist, the four-foot dwarf heard their footsteps and eyed them under bushy eyebrows. “Who- oh. It’s yer lot.”

Lucille took note of the wooden crate lying at the dwarf’s feet and realised he had tried to get it down from a ‘high’ shelf. She recognised him as one of the dwarves who visited with Krovehearth last time.

“May ask if we arrived at the correct location? And what would be your name, sir?” she asked while politely holding a hand out to help him to his feet.

The dwarf grunted as he hauled himself up and then brushed himself down. “Just call me Durang.” He crossed his arms as he inspected Vincent and Scytale, then waved them off and spun around. “Right. Good thing you lot appeared now because the array is powered up to go off in a couple of minutes or so.”

“I’m glad my timing was on point then.” Lucille bent to pick up the violet crystal nestled within blankets in the fallen crate and held it out to him. “I take it this was what you were looking for?”

“My thanks.” He grabbed it and held it up, flicking a finger at it, listening to the clear tones of the prism ringing. “Can’t have the coordinates messing up mid-magic. Wouldn’t want to land ourselves in a void storm now, would we?”

The previous planar crystal, an incredibly rare object that allowed small-scale, semi-permanent teleportation arrays to be set up within a few days compared to the permanent ones which required months, gleamed as the runes within lit up. Durang nodded with satisfaction and marched over to another room in the warehouse.

“Any of you got planar sickness? Nothin much we can do ‘bout that now, of course, but Krovehearth could lend a hand at least.”

“I’m fine here, and neither of my companions get it,” Lucy replied.

Vincent hesitated. “Hold on, Lucille. Planar sickness is only gained when someone goes to another plane-”

“Good.” Durang slammed the crystal into the carved floor where a teleportation array instantly manifested around them. “We’ll be jumpin’ through a few of those things.”

Intense mana built and the world spun before they found themselves in another room. They didn’t have time to observe it though before Durang rushed them all into another teleportation array and activated a second one. This process repeated itself another three times before they finally fell out of the fading array and landed on a cold metal floor.

“Count Goldcroft, I am glad you could make it,” a dwarf announced grandly in front of them with his arms spread. Clanlord Krovehearth nodded to his subordinate. “Thank you for your work, Durang.”

“Was nothin much.” Durang pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “Am I free to go join the others?”

Krovehearth waved him off. “If it’s work you want, then do as you want.”

“Fine with me.” The dwarf wandered off, leaving Krovehearth with the three of them.

“Where is… ugh.” Vincent stumbled as the disorientation of the new plane made him dizzy. It was a lot like decompression sickness, with the sudden rise from an area of stronger mana to light mana affecting him. “Is this a Minor Kingdom?”

“Incorrect,” Krovehearth refuted. “This is a detached unranked plane known only to the Counts and under Alichanteu’s command. At the moment, their best craftsman has full control over who may enter.” He stuck out his hand for Vincent to shake. “A pleasure to meet you, Evisenhardt aide of the Commission Head. It came as a surprise that Count Goldcroft stated she trusted you enough to allow you to come.”

“…then I suppose I should take care not to betray the trust my liege and the lead craftsman has in in me.” Vincent shook his hand and looked around. “But where are we?”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“A low-ranked plane can’t have mana this strong.” Scytale flickered his tongue from his position on the floor and morphed into his human form. “This is all artificially gathered, huh.”

Krovehearth nodded, stroking his beard. “This plane has remained unnamed to prevent any record of it entering the Counties’ files, but yes. We have five mana attractor machines here, gathering mana by the power of their elemental vortexes to saturate the Mechanised Shipyard.”

Vincent adjusted his glasses. “Shipyard?”

The dwarf lord glanced at him and gestured for the three to follow. “Come this way.”

They followed him through the heavily shielded hall, lines of neon mana flowing through channels where they split into their respective elements along the walls. They arrived before two bronze doors, a mechanical clock in the centre. Krovehearth knocked five times on the centre of the door and the hands began to spin. With the sound of clanking, the rolled apart to reveal an enormous hall filled with the sounds and sights of heavy machinery and steam.

Hundreds of people, the majority from the different dwarves subraces, all worked on, in or around the machines, climbing up shafts and hammering away at burnished structures. The four of them stumbled back as a huge gust of steam blew in their faces, clearing to reveal the vehicle on the far side of the room.

As big as the Commission Headquarters, if not larger, the airborne ship hovered a hundred metres above the brass floor. The beast of metal shook the room with the vibrations of its engine, with a relatively flat top and steeply arched hull. The brass aircraft carrier lookalike was a mere skeleton of what it was supposed to be, though.

The hull was only half assembled with metal beams creating the general structure of the front of the hull. Beneath two mana-powered wing jets on either side of the ship were massive leather wings that oscillated in a staggered pattern, keeping it afloat. The wings on the left side of the airship were still bare though, and Lucille could see that many of the major components of the ship had been taken out and placed in other areas of the hall for the crafters to work on. It presented the image of a mammoth beast being carved up and butchered for its materials.

“This is our greatest pride,” Krovehearth announced. “Built from all our resources on the topic of flying machines and planar navigation ships, the Commission has worked alongside our clans of Rocht’guardes for over a millennia.”

The Commission had been ambitious, Lucille could grant them that. That ship looked like it could hold ten thousand people if it was completed. When she discovered that the Commission was invested in recreating the airships of old just as the Supreme Institutions wanted to, she had expected airships suited for short-distance flights, from one plane to another that was in visible distance.

If they had constructed something this large from the beginning... they had access to resources about the airships on par with the Institutions. The only Supreme Institution that Lucy expected to be capable of having an airship this large would be the Eternal Empire, and even then that would be by utilising the remains of the Dawnbreaker ship on their origin plane. Vincent and Scytale were staring at the machine in silence.

“I am utterly impressed,” Lucy replied sincerely. “For you to come this far in merely a thousand years, compared to the hundreds of thousands the Institutions had… the Commission couldn’t have orchestrated this alone, could they?”

Krovehearth became solemn. “True that. You must’ve noticed how many of our clansmen work here, yes? Rocht’guardes wouldn’t have allowed so many of our craftsmen outside its borders if it weren’t for-”

“Leave ‘em to me, Dorelmaeg. I should be the one to teach them this.”

They all looked at the new grey-haired individual who approached them on a cane, his silvery beard and streaked with grey. Beneath his thick beard and melded with the wrinkly, sun-baked skin of the ancient dwarf was the metallic sheen of a runic tattoo, covering half of his face and his eye.

Krovehearth hurriedly bowed. “Grandmaster Thargas Burlbrihir.”

“It’s alright, lad. No need for that sorta thing.” The dwarf stroked his beard as he observed Lucy, Vincent and Scytale. “It has been some time since the Commission last had a leader. I am pleased that the new Commission head is just as interesting as Lockhart was.”

Standing before Lucy was an elder dwarf, veritable royalty of the dwarven race. A grandmaster craftsmen of the dwarves, an elder dwarf nonetheless, was someone of extremely high status within Rocht’guardes. Lucille had not been expecting someone of that calibre to be working on the project.

She bowed. “It is a great honour to greet one of the high-clans. May this meeting lead to a future as powerful as the blade crafted under your guidance.”

Burlbrihir laughed. “Heard about our customs, have ya? No fear, I never stuck to those sayings, considering my own tendency to ruin any weapon I dare craft.” He stepped closer and squinted at the pocket watch chain hanging out of Lucy’s suit pocket. “May I?”

She passed him the object and he held it up. Burlbrihir clicked his tongue. “Never understood why this scrappy trinket ended up becoming the symbol of the Commission. Good to see that Ashale’viaf kept it in good order.”

He tossed it back and stepped away. “Come with me and I’ll tell you about the arrangement between our clans and the Commission.”

Krovehearth bowed again and left to visit some of his clansmen in another location. Scytale flew off in his amphiptere form, more interested in inspecting the incomplete ship from above.

“It’s not just yer Eternal Empire that wants to fly above the void storms,” the ancient dwarf began, his cane ringing against the metal floor of the shipyard with every step. “All the empires... or ‘lesser empires’ as you humans call them, preposterous name that they are-” He spun around and hit his cane on the floor. “Wish to fly through the realm as the great ones of our past did. Truth is, according to our records, humans made airships first. That’s why they dominated the realm and conquered all the other races. The Eternal Empire wants to relive the glory of that old empire again.”

“That old empire? I thought it was the Eternal Empire who conquered the lesser empires,” Vincent said with suspicion.

Burlbrihir chuckled. “You’re far too naïve, young lad. The Eternal Empire is only ruling from the backs of long-dead giants.”

Giants such as the empire who created Dawnbreaker and M.C.R.U, for example.

But Lucy kept that knowledge to herself. She hummed and gestured to the airship’s incomplete jets with her cane. “So this airship was built by Rocht’guardes, with the Commission only acting as a cover-up so the Empire doesn’t become suspicious?”

“Bah.” Burlbrihir waved her question off. “We’re not that superficial. Us dwarven kind prefer solid ground, so we’re not as obsessed with airships as humans. But the opportunity to work on such a powerful machine...” He grinned, showing uneven teeth. “Craftsmen are willing to abandon everything for their passions. Rocht’guardes lets us crafters work on the Commission’s ship but cuts off all business ties. Officially, we’re not allowed to craft any saleable products for the Commission.”

Lucille held her chin to think.

I need to look at the original agreement contract... it has to be in the vault somewhere. If we ‘loan’ trains and locomotives to other organisations, does that count as a saleable product? I didn’t want to abuse dwarven craft too much either, or else it won’t be easily replicable with human skills. Their metallurgical racial ability, for example.

“Are you forbidden from working on any other kind of vehicle?” she asked, glancing at the massive components being worked on by other dwarves.

The grandmaster craftsmen next to her gave her a subtle look. “I know why yeh askin’. Those ‘trains’ of yours sure would turn this Empire upside down.” He fell silent for a while, and Lucy didn’t push. Vincent followed politely from behind.

“Tell me, girl. What are these ‘trains’ really for?” Burlbrihir asked gruffly.

Lucy blinked and her grin grew wide. “As near to total control over the Empire’s logistics as possible. I want Gilded Seat to have enough authority to stand as equals to the Seven Eternal Duchies so that whether we’re neutral, Imperialists, Radical or Olden, none of that matters anymore.”

Lucille gave him a brilliant smile as her words made the ancient crafter’s eyes grow wide. “Gilded Seat needs to become so deeply rooted in the Empire that eventually… we have the potential to become the fifth Supreme Institution.”

“…Supreme Institution?” The tone of his voice held disbelief, until he belted out a deep belly roar of laughter. “Ambitious aren’t ya?! Though the future wielder of a battalion of airships has that right, I dare say.” He took one look at the airship and nodded when he turned back to her. “Alright. Lemme hear more ‘bout these trains of yours. Us dwarves will want to work on something new for a change, anyway. And did I hear from the Counts that your home world has flying machines of this kind?”

“We’ve even managed to extend our reaches into the close void space around our world, to a limited extent. My… ‘clan’ developed some of them,” Lucy stressed, making his eyes light up.

They wandered off, while Vincent stayed in place, staring at Lucy while aghast. “Fifth Supreme Institution?! What is she doing, saying something that could be taken as Crimes of Sedition in a room full of people?!” Then he hesitated. “Although… compared to a Duchy, we are in a unique position where we can involve ourselves with any plane or force without backlash…” He shook his head before he could begin to realistically consider the possibility.

“Sedition would the least of her crimes,” a humanoid snake blurted out next to him.

Vincent jumped. “Ack! Oh, Scytale. Don’t sneak up on me,” he sighed. “I’m feeling nervous about how many people might’ve heard her.”

“I wouldn’t be worried,” Scytale said with a shrug. “Apparently all these guys live eat and breathe on this plane. They’ve got it good, too. As plane full of crafters mean they’ve built some pretty impressive homes and facilities for themselves.” He looked up and whistled. “That tower shaped like a tree with a glass dome at the top would make me feel right at home. Too bad it’s the Grandmaster’s house.”

“I thought dwarves hate heights,” Vincent said, confused.

“Oh, that’s just the home for the Astrarium they built.” The amphiptere shrugged again. “The Grandmaster built it up there for when it gets added to the ship.”

“Those rare planar navigation machines…” Vincent murmured. “I bet Marellen would love to inspect one of those. Too bad for him, he’s in Tartarus finishing his stages right now.”

“Hargrave’s gone somewhere to fight too,” Scytale added. “Without Annaliese’s group, it’s just the four of us agai-”

An ear-piercingly loud alarm sounded from behind them and they spun around to see four large doors in the distance, each with an emblem of the four Counties. A red crystal above the black door was releasing a violent light that shuttered on and off with the alarm.

The door swung open to reveal a black-cloaked man who stumbled in, breathing heavily.

Lucy, Scytale and Vincent ran over, Krovehearth and Burlbrihir cautiously approaching too.

“…Ravimoux?” Lucy said with a frown, recognising the mask the man wore. He shakily raised a hand to acknowledge her words but didn’t say anything, panting as he leant on his knees.

“That array should only be used by Ravimoux when there’s an emergency,” Krovehearth informed them, marching forward. “What urgent message must you send us?”

“There’s... been.... a break-in...” The man took a deep breath and knelled down formerly, his head bowed to Lucille. “It appears to be the work of mages... or wizards. This was an inside job, because they targeted the locations they knew didn’t have magic arrays for Ashale’viaf to control.”

Vincent frowned. “Even the Commission head’s bedroom is protected, so where...”

“The workshops,” Lucy interrupted, instantly knowing the issue. “Sedric can’t craft if the arrays activate while he’s working.” Her face grew solemn. “What happened to him?”

“That is what else I must tell you.” The assassin from Ravimoux dipped his head respectfully. “The Legendary crafter Sedric Ferin has been kidnapped.”

...

She asked again, and he explained this situation in more detail. Lucy paced with her hands behind her back as Scytale and Vincent watched with worry.

A massive mana explosion had triggered when Sedric had left his workshop, blasting a hole through the walls of the fortieth floor. Spatial magic had been used, which Ravimoux identified as Radiance – an important detail – and a group of unidentified magic users entered the Commission. Ashale’viaf kept them at bay while maintaining the structural integrity of the building with his roots but there was a fire-element wielder of Ruination who spatially decimated part of his barricade. None of the staff had the strength to stop him and he entered with single-minded purpose to forcefully take Sedric Ferin out. The witnesses claimed they last saw Sedric leave with a bag over his head and his hands in manacles.

“They used teleportation...” Vincent muttered.

Scytale was uncharacteristically solemn and looked at his bond. “Who is it, Lucy?”

“I can’t say for sure. The Heavenly Sects have been acting suspicious, but this was the act of mana users.” She pinched her nose bridge then looked at the other two dwarves nearby. “I won’t be able to tell until I see the destruction for myself.”

Krovehearth and Burlbrihir exchanged looks and nodded. “You should spare any effort to reclaim a craftsmen of the Legendary calibre,” Burlbrihir said. “We take no offense.”

“Thank you.” She bowed deeply and pointed at Scytale and Vincent. “You two go on ahead.” Lucille was serious as she turned to Burlbrihir. “Is your Astrarium functional?

The grandmaster craftsman nodded. “I’ll take you there.”

...

The wreckage was immense. True to the messenger’s words, a hole the height of five men had been blast through the Headquarters’ fortieth floor, collapsing several layers of walls in between the outside and the inside. Thick green stems had woven themselves into an organic replacement, and the incarnation of Ashale’viaf could be seen talking with the servants.

Lucille ignored the plaster crunching under her boots and walked up to Count Ravimoux. “Which one?”

“Shouldn’t it be obvious?” He gestured to the young woman kneeling on the floor, her hands tied behind her back and held in place by two armoured guards from Chavaret. Her clothes hadn’t been spared by the impact, and her eyes darted around fearfully.

Lucille studied the girl expressionlessly and then gained a wide grin. “Sally Meyers, wasn’t it? It’s such a shame that this is how you chose to end your career with us.”

“Y-You remember me?” the girl asked, stunned. “How? I’m just a normal member of the Commission...”

“How couldn’t I? We met when my exclusive crafter arrived at the Commission for the first time,” Lucy said, beaming. “I do hope Sedric is doing well while with your backers.” She kneeled down with a benign smile on her face... then gripped the girls chin, her fingers digging into skin. “You wouldn’t have caused all this trouble just because of a little favour from the Dawn Dissenters, hm? You seemed dissatisfied with your position as a commoner.”

The involuntary relaxing of the girl’s tense muscles and blank stare alerted Lucy to the fact she was off the mark. Lucille swiftly stood up and brushed her hands, walking away from the girl. “Clueless. Then she wouldn’t be from Radical either.”

“I don’t know a single Light Wizard from Radical, Miss Goldcroft,” Count Ravimoux interjected.

She glanced at him. “So the verdict’s out?”

He gestured to their captive. “Radiance is the biggest clue, but this woman holds something too. I don’t have a smidgen of light affinity so all I can do is detect the traces on her, but I’m sure you could analyse her affliction.”

Lucy placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder and sent a spike of spiritual energy into her body. She narrowed her eyes. “This is the work of the Light Tower. They cast a charm spell on her.” Lucille stepped back and crossed her arms. “Not enough to be obvious brainwashing as it relies on the initial seed of willingness to be in the target, but it enhances the individual’s motivation to achieve the caster’s task. This girl is hardly without guilt.”

An eerie smile appeared on her face as she held out her cane and tilted Salley Meyers’ chin up. “Listen here. You can spill everything you know now, or you can wait until I extract it from you bit by agonising bit. And I will be able to learn it from you if all you do is sit there and breath. I am very good at analysing someone’s behaviour.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Surely you heard from those wizards that I can see your thoughts if I so choose to, right? After all, that’s why you chose a time when I was leaving the Commission to place a mana bomb in Sedric’s workshop.”

Lucille gained a smile that showed just a little bit too much of her perfect teeth to be normal. “Have you heard of a soul bomb? I’m very adept at those. I’m sure I could utilise that knowledge if it comes to it during out little talk...”