Chapter 127: Chapter 120: The Capital Sees the Future

The capital of Asterion had seen victorious armies before.

It had seen gryphon riders returning from eastern wars.

Knight processions decorated in gold and silver.

Mages capable of splitting mountains.

Royal victories celebrated beneath endless banners.

But never—Not once in its long history—

Had the capital seen anything like the army marching toward it now.

Snow drifted across the outer districts of the city while dawn slowly illuminated the enormous walls of the royal capital. Massive stone towers rose high above the surrounding plains while royal banners fluttered beneath freezing winds.

Normally the capital awakened gradually.

Merchant caravans entered through the eastern gates.

Nobles traveled beneath luxurious carriages.

Workers flooded market districts before sunrise.

But today—The atmosphere felt wrong.

Because rumors had already spread throughout the city for days.

The northern lord was coming.

And according to the stories—

He commanded steel monsters.

Most commoners dismissed the rumors initially.

Until soldiers began confirming them.

Then the panic started spreading naturally.

By sunrise—

Thousands had already gathered near the eastern districts overlooking the primary trade avenue leading toward the capital gates.

Vendors abandoned stalls.

Children climbed rooftops.

Servants crowded balconies.

Even nobles quietly observed from manor terraces overlooking the main roads.

Everyone wanted to see the truth.

Or perhaps reassure themselves the rumors were exaggerated.

Because surely—

No noble territory could truly possess machines capable of changing warfare itself.

Right?

Then the scouts arrived.

"The convoy crossed the eastern ridge."

That single sentence transformed the city immediately.

Crowds surged toward the avenue.

Royal guards struggled controlling movement near the gates.

Even merchants completely abandoned business to witness the arrival.

And somewhere within the growing crowd—

Fear quietly spread.

Because now the rumors were no longer distant stories.

The northern lord had arrived.

Far beyond the eastern ridge—

The convoy of Elarion continued its march toward the capital.

Snow crunched beneath synchronized boots while black northern banners moved beneath cold winter winds. Supply wagons rolled steadily behind disciplined infantry formations while mounted scouts maintained perfect perimeter control around the convoy.

No disorder existed.

At the center of the formation—

The Warhound advanced slowly through the snow like a predator entering another creature’s territory.

Its massive armored hull reflected pale winter light while steam drifted upward continuously from the mana-engine vents. The deep mechanical growl of the engine echoed across the frozen roads like distant thunder.

Behind it rolled four enormous leFH 18 artillery batteries.

Each cannon looked monstrous beside ordinary wagons.

And the closer the convoy approached the capital—

The quieter the roads became.

Travelers abandoned paths immediately.

Merchants pulled carts aside.

Even local patrols maintained distance from the northern formation.

Nobody wished to stand too close to Elarion’s army.

Especially after the stories spreading across Asterion recently.

Inside the carriage—

Warm mana lamps illuminated the armored command compartment softly.

Lucien sat calmly beside one of the narrow viewing slits observing the distant capital walls slowly growing larger on the horizon.

His expression remained unreadable.

Beside him—

Malen calmly reviewed maps and route calculations while Gandalf leaned lazily against the interior wall sipping hot tea with obvious satisfaction.

The old wizard looked remarkably comfortable inside the carriage now.

Which somehow felt deeply unnatural.

"The capital is already panicking."

Gandalf sounded almost entertained.

Lucien’s gaze remained toward the distant walls.

"They fear uncertainty."

"No."

The old wizard grinned faintly.

"They fear reality."

Malen folded another report calmly.

"The reactions will worsen once they see the artillery."

"They already saw reports."

"Yes."

Malen nodded slightly.

"But reports are safer than truth."

The Warhound continued rolling forward beneath the snow.

Eventually—

The massive walls of the capital became fully visible.

Ancient,immense and Covered with defensive towers and magical reinforcement structures.

The greatest city within the Kingdom of Asterion.

Even Lucien quietly studied it for several moments.

Because despite everything—

The capital still possessed undeniable majesty.

This was not some weak kingdom barely surviving politically.

Asterion was powerful and the city reflected that clearly.

Thousands of banners decorated the walls while layers of defensive structures protected every major approach route. Royal mage towers rose high above the city skyline while enormous fortress gates guarded the eastern avenue.

Any ordinary army would struggle assaulting such defenses.

But Lucien no longer thought like ordinary nobles.

Instead—

He silently observed firing angles.

Wall structure density.

Potential artillery positions.

Logistical weaknesses.

A transmigrator’s instincts mixed strangely with military calculation.

And perhaps most dangerous of all—

It happened naturally now.

The Warhound slowly descended the final ridge toward the capital roads.

Then the city finally saw them.

At first—

The crowd only noticed the infantry.

Thousands watched silently as disciplined northern soldiers emerged from the snowy roads in perfect formation beneath black Elarion banners.

The reactions became immediate.

"That’s northern infantry?"

"They march like royal guards..."

"No... more organized..."

Veterans within the crowd frowned visibly.

Because experienced soldiers recognized discipline immediately.

And Elarion troops radiated it.

The soldiers moved with synchronized precision while supply formations maintained exact spacing even during urban entry movement.

No chaos existed anywhere within the convoy.

Even the royal gate guards began exchanging uneasy glances.

One older captain quietly muttered:

"These troops have seen real war..."

And then the artillery appeared.

the atmosphere changed instantly.

Massive leFH 18 howitzers rolled through the capital gates beneath armed escort while enormous steel barrels reflected pale sunlight across the streets.

The crowd visibly recoiled.

Several civilians instinctively stepped backward.

Because seeing artillery in military reports was one thing.

Watching gigantic battlefield cannons physically enter the capital streets was something entirely different.

One merchant stared openly.

"How large are those..."

Nearby—

A retired veteran answered quietly.

"Large enough to erase fortifications."

The merchant laughed nervously.

The veteran didn’t.

Then came the Warhound.

For several seconds—

Absolute silence consumed the avenue.

The tank rolled slowly beneath the capital gates while its massive tracks crushed frozen stone beneath terrifying armored weight.

Steam drifted around the hull continuously.

The mana-engine growled deeply.

And the rotating turret moved slightly as the machine advanced.

Nearby horses panicked immediately.

Several guards instinctively reached for weapons before realizing the absurdity of such an action.

One child whispered fearfully:

"Monster..."

No one corrected him.

Because the Warhound truly did resemble a monster.

A monster made from steel.

The closer it moved toward the crowds—

The more unnatural it appeared.

No horses pulled it,No visible magic circles floated around it.

It simply moved like an unstoppable mechanical beast.

A noblewoman watching from a nearby balcony slowly stepped backward unconsciously.

One elderly lord stared silently at the tank before speaking quietly:

"If that enters warfare..."

His companion answered without taking his eyes off the armored machine.

"Then warfare changes."

And across the avenue—

Several younger military officers looked almost mesmerized.

One whispered:

"This is the future..."

Nearby senior officers visibly disliked hearing that sentence.

Because deep down—

They feared the younger generation might be right.

Inside the Warhound—

Gandalf watched the reactions through the armored slit with visible amusement.

"The capital expected rumors."

He chuckled softly.

"Instead they received reality."

Lucien remained calm.

Outside—

The convoy continued deeper into the city beneath thousands of eyes.

But the capital understood something instinctively now.

Elarion had not arrived merely as another noble territory.

It had arrived as a force capable of changing the kingdom itself.

And everyone could feel it.

Far above the streets—

Within one of the palace towers—

A lone figure silently observed the convoy entering the city.

Ancient eyes watched the Warhound carefully while immense magical pressure distorted the surrounding air faintly.

The Royal Guardian.

The legendary mage protecting House Vaelthron.

For several moments—

The old mage remained completely motionless.

Then quietly—

"Interesting."

Only one word.

Yet the surrounding mana itself trembled slightly afterward.

Because even the Royal Guardian had realized something important.

The machine below was not ordinary military innovation.

It represented the beginning of an entirely different age.

Meanwhile—

Inside noble estates throughout the capital—

Reactions spread rapidly.

Several aristocrats who previously dismissed the rumors now sat silently after seeing the convoy themselves.

One duke slowly lowered his wine glass.

"That thing..."

His voice sounded uncertain now.

"...crossed battlefields?"

A military advisor answered quietly.

"Yes, my lord."

"And cavalry truly failed against it?"

"Yes."

Silence followed.

Then softly—

"Gods..."

Elsewhere—

Younger nobles argued excitedly about industrial investment and northern trade opportunities while older aristocrats discussed military implications with growing discomfort.

Factories,Artillery and Mechanized warfare.

None of those concepts belonged comfortably within traditional feudal politics.

And that frightened people deeply.

Because old systems survived through predictability.

Lucien represented uncertainty.

Eventually—

The convoy reached the northern noble district.

Unlike the crowded merchant quarters—

This part of the capital radiated ancient aristocratic authority.

Massive estates lined wide stone avenues while royal banners fluttered between towering noble manors covered with magical lanterns.

Yet even here—

People watched silently from balconies and terraces as the Warhound entered the district.

One noble servant nearly dropped an entire tray after seeing the tank pass nearby.

The giant machine moved slowly beneath the winter snowfall while northern soldiers secured intersections and maintained disciplined perimeter spacing around the convoy.

Watching them—

Several capital guards felt strangely uncomfortable.

Because Elarion troops operated more like professional standing armies than noble retainers.

And that difference mattered.

Finally—

The convoy stopped before a massive estate surrounded by royal banners.

The Estate of Silvermere.

One of the royal guest estates reserved exclusively for highly important visitors.

The enormous gates slowly opened.

Then the Warhound rolled inside.

The moment the convoy entered—

Elarion soldiers immediately transformed the estate into a secured military zone.

Perimeter guards deployed instantly.

Artillery crews organized firing placements.

Supply personnel established operational logistics.

Everything happened with shocking efficiency.

Watching servants nearby could only stare silently.

Because they had never seen noble forces behave like this before.

Inside the estate courtyard—

The Warhound finally powered down.

Steam continued drifting upward from the armored hull while the engine’s deep rumbling gradually faded and the courtyard instantly became quieter.

Snow drifted softly around him while servants instinctively lowered their heads.

Because the atmosphere around him felt heavy now,this was no longer merely a forgotten northern heir.

This was the man who marched into the capital carrying enough military power to force the kingdom itself into attention.

"Hm."

"The royal family is being polite."

Lucien calmly observed the estate surroundings.

"Yes."

Gandalf’s expression became slightly more serious afterward.

"That means they are cautious."

Before anyone could continue—

Another convoy entered the estate grounds.

Royal banners decorated the approaching carriage while armed palace guards escorted it respectfully.

The atmosphere shifted immediately.

Northern soldiers subtly tightened formation.

The carriage stopped.

Then a sharply dressed royal messenger exited before bowing deeply.

"Lord Lucien of Elarion."

His voice remained respectful.

Very careful.

Because even the royal palace now understood exactly who had arrived at the capital.

The messenger continued calmly.

"His Majesty, King Alaric Vaelthron, welcomes your arrival to the royal capital."

Lucien observed him silently.

The royal attendant lowered his head again.

"His Majesty has scheduled a private audience tomorrow evening within the royal palace."

Silence settled across the courtyard afterward.

Even the snowfall suddenly felt louder.

Because everyone present understood the importance of that statement.

Tomorrow—

The ruler of Asterion would finally meet the man changing its future.

The messenger continued respectfully.

"Until then, the Estate of Silvermere remains entirely at your disposal."

Lucien answered calmly.

"Understood."

The messenger visibly relaxed slightly afterward.

Then after another respectful bow—

The royal carriage departed the estate once more.

Snow continued falling quietly across the courtyard afterward.

For several moments—

Nobody spoke.

Then finally—

Gandalf exhaled softly.

"Well."

The old wizard looked toward the distant royal palace rising above the capital skyline.

"Tomorrow will either stabilize this kingdom..."

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"...or change it forever."