Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

The Erwin Great Cathedral was nearly razed to the ground in the fire, leaving only a lone bell tower standing stubbornly at the southern end of the ruins.

On the night of the fire, the lead sheets covering the cathedral roof melted and flowed onto the streets. The Reformation Church had not yet managed to recover the lead, so at first glance, the cobblestone pavement around the cathedral seemed to be coated with a dull layer of silver.

Strolling through the cathedral's ruins, Selvit said regretfully, "What a magnificent cathedral, and yet it couldn't withstand the fire tornado."

"I must disagree." Winters rubbed his nose. "The fire tornado is merely a tornado. The Erwin Great Cathedral is a stone building—there's no way a tornado could topple it. It's clear that the restoration scaffolding inside and outside the cathedral burned down, leaving the roof unsupported and causing it to collapse."

Selvit asked, "You were present at the time?"

"Everyone present saw it happen," Winters replied.

Selvit didn't press further. Surveying the remaining foundations of the cathedral, he suddenly asked Winters, "Do you know how Steelburg rose to prominence?"

"Because of the iron mines?"

"Have you seen mines in Steelburg?"

Winters paused to think. "No."

"The mines are all on the other side of the mountain," Selvit gestured to the north of the city. "Separated from Steelburg by a mountain valley. There's a small mining town there called Red Rock Town. Ore is extracted there, screened and burned, then transported by horse-drawn carts to Steelburg for smelting."

Winters asked politely, "You seem very knowledgeable about mining?"

"My father and grandfather were both miners," Selvit answered nonchalantly. "My father lost half a foot fighting for Emperor Richard and had to leave the army. The pension he received from Emperor Richard wasn't enough to clear his debts, so he and my grandfather sold the last small piece of land they owned and moved from Neushar State to Solingen State, where they mined to support the family."

Winters nodded lightly, listening silently.

"My story isn't really important," Selvit stopped walking and stared at the Rose River:

"What I want to ask you is, why Steelburg?

In terms of natural resources, Steelburg has the waterpower of the Rose River, but Red Rock Town is closer to the mines. Monta has iron ore not only in Steelburg. Why was Steelburg the one to rise and become Steelburg?

Red Rock Town, once possessing iron ore, is now merely a vassal of Steelburg. It doesn't have a single blast furnace, and even the ownership of the mines rests in Steelburg's blacksmith guild. Steelburg's blacksmiths enjoy the wealth iron production brings, while Red Rock Town's miners toil in the muck. Why?"

Winters thought of the tale Steelburg's citizens loved to pass on, about Saint Joseph walking into a workshop and personally promising prosperity and success to the blacksmiths.

The people of Steelburg never doubted the authenticity of the story. Not only did they tell it to their children, but they also revered Saint Joseph as the patron saint of Steelburg and adorned every significant city location with depictions of "Saint Joseph walking into the workshop."

"Perhaps it was divine favor," Winters responded with a vague yet universally acceptable answer.

"Wrong!" Selvit said emphatically, cutting off any further discussion. "Only those who don't understand why they've succeeded would use fate or divine grace to dull their rationality. I don't deny the whims of fate, but attributing everything to God is an insult to humanity."

Winters couldn't help but reassess his impression of the councilor. Slightly nodding, he invited Selvit to elaborate.

"The answer is simple." Selvit stamped the ground lightly. "It's right beneath your feet."

Winters raised an eyebrow. "The road?"

"Correct, the road. Steelburg succeeded by building roads to defeat Red Rock Town."

"Could you explain further?"

Selvit steadied himself with his cane, his tone even: "In the mountain nations, building roads is a sacred undertaking akin to constructing cathedrals. Do you know why?"

Winters replied without hesitation, "Because the cost is too high."

"Precisely. Building roads is so expensive that it usually requires joint funding to commence. Having spent the money, investors naturally wish to recoup their costs. Hence, Monta is riddled with toll stations, and many city councils sustain themselves through road tolls."

Though Selvit expressed disdain for toll charges, Winters found nothing inherently wrong with the practice.

After all, such toll stations were ubiquitous not only in Monta but also in other republics. Venetians even joked that their Army Headquarters' gilded splendor was funded by toll revenue.

"Those who build roads collect tolls," Winters remarked. "It's fair and reasonable."

"Indeed, fair and reasonable," Selvit gazed at the mountains with a hint of nostalgia. "Yet Steelburg's blacksmith guild demonstrated their brilliance by building roads and choosing not to charge any tolls."

"A losing venture."

"Certainly, a losing venture. But after using everyone's money to address the least profitable part of the business, the remainder became purely lucrative. This way, even a detour saves enough in toll costs to offset the cost difference between Steelburg iron and Red Rock Town iron.

Though building roads was a loss-making endeavor, Steelburg leveraged this unprofitable strategy to crush and absorb Red Rock Town's iron industry, enabling its ascent. Later, Steelburg continued constructing and purchasing roads. To this day, cargo caravans entering and leaving Solingen State pay no toll fees."

"Since Red Rock Town controls the iron ore, they should have the means to counter Steelburg. How did they lose so easily?"

Perhaps it was the rare instance of Selvit speaking so much in one breath, for his voice grew hoarse: "Because their interests were not united. They lacked an entity like Steelburg, capable of tolerating short-term losses and focusing on long-term prospects—the blacksmith guild. Thus, they were vanquished one by one."

Winters chewed over Selvit's words. "Using everyone's money to tackle the most loss-making aspects of the business?"

"The same principle applies to road-building and the construction of the Wooper Canal. If it's everyone's money, spent on things that benefit everyone, what harm is there?"

"Indeed, no harm at all." Winters crossed his arms and suddenly chuckled faintly. "But why are you telling me this?"

The remnants of the walls whined in the wind, yet the cathedral seemed to grow even quieter.

"You've won, Baron Granashi." Selvit turned away, facing the charred altar. His voice carried a lonely air:

"Steelburg is no longer the Steelburg it once was. No one supports my relief proposal. Those who possess this city are unwilling to spend money on initiatives that benefit everyone. I must rely on your gold and silver to advance the reconstruction plan. Even though I know your identity is suspect, I must look the other way and acquiesce to their sale of armaments to you."

"So, this time you've won. You've shattered us piece by piece." Selvit turned back around and extended his hand to Winters. "Enjoy your victory, Baron."

Winters steadily grasped Selvit's offered hand and gave it a firm shake.

As Selvit tried to withdraw his hand, he found, despite his efforts, that Winters held his hand fast.

"Councilor, have you ever considered another form of collaboration?" Winters slowed his speech. "One where we can all emerge as winners?"

"What kind of collaboration?" Selvit stopped trying to free his hand and instead narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Winters cautiously.

"Why limit our relationship to buying and selling?" Winters paused, his eyes gleaming with intensity. "Have you considered… investing in us?"