The specifics—the pistons, the mechanics, the precise workings of the engine—were far beyond her comprehension, but she grasped the larger picture, the why behind it all.

She’d seen Ren’s late nights in the study, pouring over sketches and schematics with the human engineers. He might not have been the one to design every cog and gear, but it was his guidance, his vision, that had steered them in this direction.

“But... it must take so much manna grass,” Hazel said slowly, her gaze lingering on the humming carriage. “To power something like this, to make it move without horses...”

Ren’s smile softened. “It does,” he admitted.

“Right now, the process is far from efficient. It takes a significant amount of manna grass just to make this one carriage run. But that’s temporary. Our engineers are refining the process every day. Soon, we’ll be able to extract more power from less grass, and the fuel will become more efficient. Imagine it, Hazel—an entire fleet of carriages like this one, not dependent on magic-wielding mages, but on a new kind of energy we control.”

Hazel’s mind spun with the implications. “Now halting the exports makes even more sense.”

Ren’s expression grew more serious, his eyes sharp with determination.

“ For now, the priority is developing this technology. But eventually, we won’t ever need to export raw manna grass at all. Instead, Aropia will be selling the carriages themselves—these ‘cars’—and the condensed magic energy used to power them. I call it magic fuel.”

He said the words with a certain pride, a sense of finality, as if naming something that would change the world.

“Magic fuel,” Hazel repeated, tasting the words as if they held a secret power all their own.

“It will be the most valuable commodity in Pangea,” Ren continued, his voice gaining a fervent intensity that sent a shiver down Hazel’s spine.

“It’s not just about wealth, either—though Aropia will become rich. It’s about changing the game. If we control the supply of magic fuel, we control the future of trade, of war, of travel itself. This—” he gestured to the carriage, his hand sweeping over the metal and the hum of the engine—“this is just the beginning.”

Hazel found herself staring at him, at the gleam in his eyes. She’d always known he was brilliant—a leader with a vision grander than any king she’d ever known—but in that moment, she saw a different kind of light in him.

A raw, unbridled genius that seemed to hum with the same energy as the engine beneath them.

“And the rest of Pangea,” she said softly, “they’ll want it too, won’t they? The magic fuel.”

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“They’ll need it,” Ren corrected, his tone fierce and unyielding. “And when they come knocking, when they beg for the technology, it will be on our terms, not theirs. Aropia will stand at the center of it all, dictating the terms of the future.”

Hazel nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his words settle over her.

It was something born of human ingenuity, one that could very well bring humanity up the social ladder amongst the five races. If Ren succeeded , then Aropia would be right at the top with the Grand Alliance.

As the carriage rumbled along, the hum of the engine filling the space between them, Hazel’s eyes remained wide, struggling to absorb everything she’d seen. Her mind raced with questions, but one curiosity bubbled to the surface first. She turned to Ren, still half-disbelieving they were moving without horses.

“Where... where are we going?” she asked, her voice laced with a blend of excitement and awe.

She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the scenery flashing by—a countryside she’d only seen from horseback pace, now rushing past at a speed she’d never imagined.

Ren kept his eyes forward, a small, almost mischievous smile tugging at his lips. “We’re going to a celebration,” he said. “I’ve arranged a gathering with the engineers—the ones who built this ‘car,’” he said, emphasizing the new word as if savoring it.

“They deserve recognition. Without them, none of this would have been possible. I wanted you to be there, to see what’s been going on right under everyone’s nose.”

Hazel blinked, trying to recall anything she might have heard about a factory or a secret project, but she drew a blank. “I’ve never heard of it,” she confessed, her brow furrowing. “A secret like that... right under Ropa’s watchful eye? How?”

Ren chuckled, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel.

“Exactly,” he said, clearly pleased with her surprise. “That’s the point. It’s in a small, secluded valley, away from prying eyes. That way, it would go on without interference.”

“And now?” Hazel pressed. “It’s ready?”

“Yeah,” Ren said with a nod.

“I thought,” Ren said, glancing at her from the corner of his eye, “that you might enjoy the ride. It’s not every day we get to leave the capital, and there’s something about driving through the countryside that reminds me of my old world. The open road, the endless sky...”

He trailed off, his expression momentarily distant, caught in a memory she couldn’t share.

Hazel’s chest tightened, struck by the quiet sadness that flickered across his face. She wanted to say something, anything, to break the silence—but before she could think, the words left her lips in a rush, surprising even herself.

“I’ll follow you,” she blurted out, her voice unsteady, “anywhere you go.”

She froze, the weight of her words settling between them like a palpable thing. A blush flamed across her cheeks, and she quickly looked away, wishing she could pull the words back. What had possessed her to say that?

For a heartbeat, Ren said nothing. The only sound was the steady hum of the engine, a low, comforting rumble that filled the silence.

“Anywhere?” he asked, his tone playful, yet there was a gravity in his eyes—a searching, a question unspoken beneath the lightness.

Hazel swallowed, her embarrassment twisting. But she didn’t look away, not this time. She nodded, feeling her pulse quicken under his touch.

“Anywhere,” she repeated, bolder.