Reborn as a Hated Noble Family, We Start an Industrial Revolution-Chapter 148: SYMPHONY OF MACHINES AND BOILING BLOOD

Chapter 148: Chapter 148: SYMPHONY OF MACHINES AND BOILING BLOOD

​The footsteps of Rianor Sudrath echoed sharply through the marble corridors of the Iron Hearth City Hospital, which had grown eerily quiet as evening descended. The pungent, biting scent of antiseptic was slowly fading, replaced by the earthy aroma of wet soil and the lingering remnants of evaporating dew. Outside, the biting winter that had held the region in a vice-like grip was finally loosening its hold. The snow, which usually piled as high as a man’s knee, was beginning to slush and melt, creating small, rushing rivulets along the edges of the asphalt roads—a clear sign that the time for Northreach to merely survive had ended. Now, it was time to strike.

​Rianor buttoned his grey military greatcoat, which was lined with specialized magitech-nylon fibers. The face that had softened so significantly in front of Elara only an hour ago had once again hardened into a rigid mask of ice. His eyes, as sharp and cold as a radar sensor, scanned his surroundings with an almost obsessive level of scrutiny.

​Just as he was about to step toward the black SUV waiting for him at the hospital’s main gate, a familiar small silhouette emerged from behind a massive pillar, flanked by two men. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

​"Brother Rianor!" a clear, spirited voice called out.

​Rianor halted his stride. He saw Lady Raveena Sudrath, his youngest sister, standing there in a thick navy-blue coat. Behind her, Prince Caelus stood with a protective posture, while Ramirez—the loyal old adjutant—maintained a respectful distance, his hand always poised near his waist.

​"Raveena? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you still be under Elena’s strict medical supervision?" Rianor asked, his brows knitting together. His voice was flat, but there was an unmistakable undertone of concealed concern.

​Raveena smirked, an expression that was strikingly similar to Rianor’s whenever he successfully cracked a complex circuit code. "I was bored, Brother. Constantly lying in bed is a torture worse than any research failure. Besides, look at this."

​Raveena raised her right hand. In an instant, sparks of bright purple electricity danced across her fingertips, crackling with a stable, rhythmic frequency before dissipating into the air. "My mana center isn’t destroyed. Sister Elena says it’s a miracle, but I know it’s because of the emergency circuit bypass I installed previously. I’m feeling much better; my mana has recovered to about sixty percent."

​Rianor stared at his sister in silence for several seconds, his eyes analyzing the mana flow shimmering around her. "Do not overexert yourself. If your circuits overload again, I will personally bar you from entering any laboratory for an entire year. Am I clear?"

​"I know, I know! That’s why I’m here," Raveena said, glancing toward the distant industrial horizon where plumes of smoke rose from the factories. "I heard from the nurses that the Sky-Slayer Wing and the Wolf-Tusk MBT units have begun joint exercises. You wouldn’t possibly miss that, would you? I want to see your masterpieces in action. Science in a book is nothing compared to the roar of a mana-steam engine."

​Rianor shifted his gaze toward Caelus and Ramirez. His expression suddenly shifted, becoming intensely cold and intimidating—an aura he typically reserved for enemy spies or captured infiltrators.

​"Prince Caelus, Ramirez," Rianor’s voice dropped, exerting a tangible psychological pressure. "You are permitted to accompany her only because she pleaded with me. But remember one thing. Whatever you witness at the South Paddock is the highest secret of House Sudrath."

​Rianor stepped closer to Caelus, staring directly into the young prince’s eyes, demanding total submission. "Do not even think about whispering a single word regarding this technology to the Kingdom of Aethelgard. Not to your father, and certainly not to your brothers. If even a single data point leaks through you, I will ensure that not even your status as royalty can protect you. Do I make myself clear?"

​Caelus swallowed hard, feeling the cold mana pressure radiating from the Mana-Glove on Rianor’s hand. However, instead of trembling, he straightened his back, his eyes meeting Rianor’s with a newfound resolve. "I am here for Raveena. I abandoned Sol-Regis the day I decided to stand with Northreach. Your secrets are safe with me. I have no throne to return to."

​Ramirez merely offered a short, silent nod, his face devoid of emotion. "I merely obey Prince Caelus’s commands, Young Master Sudrath. My knightly honor is staked on this silence."

​"Good. Get in the car. We are wasting daylight," Rianor commanded curtly.

​The journey to the South Paddock was brief, the SUV cutting through the muddy roads with ease. As soon as the vehicle stopped, their ears were greeted by a symphony of organized chaos. The sharp, high-pitched whistle of the Sky-Hunter helicopter rotors clashed with the heavy, rhythmic thumping of tank cannons being test-fired.

​In the center of the vast field, where the ground was becoming increasingly boggy due to the melting snow, the new Cavalry Unit was baring its teeth.

​"RELOAD IN FIVE SECONDS! FASTER, YOU BASTARDS!"

​The booming voice belonged to a giant of a man with a thick mustache and a face flushed red with exertion and fury. Sir Leofric, the new commander of the Cavalry Unit appointed to replace the fallen Garrick, was a leader who commanded with his lungs. To him, a soldier who couldn’t hear his roar over the din of battle was a dead soldier.

​Beside him, a younger man with short, neatly combed blonde hair consulted a pocket watch with a cold, analytical expression. Sir Gideon, the vice-commander. Unlike Leofric, Gideon rarely ever raised his voice.

​"The shot missed by two degrees to the northwest. Steam piston pressure on the left suspension has dropped by 0.5 bar. Leofric, stop shouting and tell them to recalibrate their hydraulic valves," Gideon said in a flat, piercing tone.

​"SHUT IT, GIDEON! THEY NEED SPIRIT, NOT CALCULATIONS!" Leofric bellowed back, pointing toward the formation of Wolf-Tusk MBTs.

​Rianor approached, followed by Raveena, whose eyes were wide with wonder as she watched the massive steel beasts maneuver with surprising agility.

​"Leofric, Gideon," Rianor called out.

​The two men instantly turned. In a synchronized movement, they snapped a sharp military salute—right hand to the temple, back straight as a rod. It was the new standard for the Sudrath military, replacing the cumbersome aristocratic bows that were deemed impractical in the field.

​"Master Rianor!" Leofric exclaimed. "We’re pushing these boys to understand that a Wolf-Tusk isn’t just an iron carriage—it’s a monster that demands discipline!"

​"Reporting, Master," Gideon followed up calmly. "The Wolf-Tusk MBTs are showing exceptional transmission performance in this muddy terrain. The Spaced Armor you designed has proven effective in dampening the recoil vibrations from our 105mm rifled cannons."

​Rianor nodded with clinical satisfaction. "Continue the drills. I want to see the synchronization with the Sky-Slayer Unit."

​Above them, three Sudrath Sky-Hunter helicopters flew in a low V-formation. The rhythmic beat of their rotor blades sliced through the air with mechanical precision. In one of the cockpits, Thamrin looked intensely focused, his hands dancing across the Collective Lever with practiced ease. From the open side doors of the helicopters, members of the Ghost Squad stood ready, their camouflage cloaks billowing in the wind.

​"Aerial Unit entering the zone! Ghost Squad, prepare for Fast-Rope insertion!" Kaelen’s voice crackled through the Aero-Link Radio at Rianor’s hip.

​Suddenly, from the hovering helicopters, Borch and Dom slid down thick ropes with heart-stopping speed, landing perfectly atop the armor plates of the moving tanks. Without missing a beat, they leveled their Gauss Rifles at static targets in the distance. Zing! Zing! The soft yet deadly hum of magnetic acceleration filled the air, and a second later, the steel target plates in the distance were shredded into scrap metal.

​"Incredible..." Raveena murmured. She approached one of the tanks that had paused for a cooling cycle. "Brother, this steam-cooling system... you’re using a closed-loop mana circulation circuit? This is genius! It prevents mana-leakage during high-intensity combat."

​Rianor allowed his sister to inspect the rear of the tank while he monitored the inter-unit coordination. Everything seemed to be proceeding according to plan, except for one detail that piqued his instincts.

​At the edge of the paddock, far from the roar of engines and the smell of fuel, the atmosphere was hauntingly silent. However, it was a silence that carried a distinct threat.

​Lady Rhea Sudrath walked slowly along the perimeter fence line. She was dressed in practical, all-black combat attire, her favorite rapier hanging from her waist. Behind her, Ember and a young man with a pale face and extremely alert eyes followed closely.

​The man was Nyx, the Vice-Leader of the Nightshade Sentinels. Nyx was an expert in infiltration and sabotage, a man who moved without a sound, as if his feet never truly touched the earth. His quiet, cold nature made him the perfect shadow for the more executive Ember.

​"Nyx, any reports of movement in the labor housing sector?" Rhea asked. Her voice sounded slightly heavier than usual.

​"All clear, My Lady. We’ve installed three layers of mana-sensors along the central steam pipes. Anyone attempting to approach without an encrypted ID will be immediately neutralized by our sniper teams," Nyx answered in an unsettlingly calm tone.

​Ember glanced at Rhea from the side. She had noticed something was amiss for the past ten minutes. Rhea’s face was paler than usual, and her footsteps occasionally seemed to falter, though she masked it exceptionally well with her iron willpower.

​Suddenly, Rhea stopped. She gripped the iron fence beside her with such force that her knuckles turned white. Her head bowed, and she felt a sudden, violent wave of nausea strike her stomach. Her vision blurred for a moment, making the world around her spin in a sickening swirl.

​"Ugh..." Rhea covered her mouth with her left hand.

​"Lady Rhea!" Ember was immediately at her side, gripping her shoulder for support. "You are not well. You’re deathly pale."

​Rhea took a long, shuddering breath, trying to push the nausea back down. "I’m fine, Ember. It’s just... perhaps the warming air of Northreach is making me a bit lightheaded. Don’t make a scene."

​Nyx stepped closer, his eyes scanning Rhea’s physical condition with an analytical intensity. "Your body temperature is elevated, and the pulse in your neck is irregular. Tactically speaking, you are in a condition unfit for duty, My Lady."

​Rhea glared at Nyx, though the fire in her eyes was dimmed by fatigue. "Since when did you become a doctor, Nyx? Return to your post."

​"Nyx is right, Lady Rhea," Ember interrupted with a firm but respectful tone. "This patrol is merely a routine procedure. Nyx and I can handle it. Please, return to the castle and rest. If you collapse here, Master Riven will burn our entire security department for negligence."

​Rhea wanted to argue, but the wave of nausea returned, stronger this time. She felt as if her strength were being drained by an unseen parasite. "Damn it... fine. Watch every corner. Do not let any rats near the helicopter hangars."

​"We hear and obey, My Lady," Ember and Nyx said in unison, saluting.

​Ember watched Rhea walk toward her pickup SUV. She felt an uneasy knot in her chest. Rhea Sudrath was a woman who had once endured a deep gash on her shoulder without a single complaint, yet now she looked utterly fragile over mere "dizziness."

​In another part of the city, within the more elite Eastern District, Roland Sudrath was strolling leisurely with Princess Seraphina. Behind them, several low-caste dragon guards maintained a respectful distance.

​Roland occasionally pointed to the new buildings being constructed with steel skeletons. "Do you see that structure, Seraphina? That will be the first human-dragon information exchange hub."

​Seraphina huffed, though her eyes were busy absorbing every detail of the city’s transformation. "You humans love building boxes out of stone and iron. In Draconia, we prefer crystal caves and high spires."

​"These buildings aren’t just static; they protect," Roland replied with a slick smile. "Much like our alliance. It may feel cold and rigid at first, but within it lies the strength to reshape this continent."

​Seraphina glanced at Roland, then offered a faint smile that revealed her small, sharp fangs. "You always have a way of making everything sound poetic, Roland. But remember, dragons do not appreciate empty promises. Show me that your ’iron boxes’ can truly incinerate our enemies."

​"Of course," Roland bowed elegantly. "Two months from now, you will see Northveil return to our grasp. And when that happens, you will know why House Sudrath is the most valuable ally your race has ever had."

​The wind blew hard, carrying the scent of fuel and burnt mana from the direction of the paddock. Northreach was no longer sleeping. The iron giant had awakened, and it was hungry for victory.