Chapter 165: Discipline and Pure Steel
he freezing morning mist still covered the valley when the Golden Rose Company camp began to stir. Caelen and Varis stepped out of their main wagon expecting to find the usual chaos of a barbarian border post, but the scene before them left them speechless.
The Overlord Tribe was already in motion. In the center of the parade ground, hundreds of workers and guards formed silent queues before the mess kitchens, receiving a communal breakfast in wooden bowls in an orderly fashion, without pushing or shouting. There was no trace of the anarchy typical of wild settlements.
Varis looked up at the walls and held his breath. In the gloom of the previous night they hadn’t paid attention, but under the light of the rising sun, he clearly saw the four perimeter watchtowers. In each of them, the sentries carried no traditional swords, axes, or bows; they held dark steel tubes with polished wooden stocks, strange weapons whose presence projected a silent threat.
To one side of the courtyard, fifteen soldiers dressed in a uniform of a rigid cut were loading a transport convoy at a steady pace. Taking advantage of escorting the guests to the main settlement, the soldiers were filling the wagon beds with ingots of a metal freshly refined in the forges.
Caelen, driven by curiosity, approached one of the wagons and reached out to pick up one of the heavy ingots gleaming on the straw.
"Halt!" said one of the escort soldiers, stepping in and blocking his path with a firm arm. "Official authorization is required to handle the Great Shaman’s cargo."
Before tension could rise, Helga and Lennis approached with a firm stride from the main trench.
"Let him inspect it, soldier," said Helga. "He has my permission."
The soldier straightened, bowed to his superiors, and stepped back in silence, returning to his post.
"Forgive our men," said Lennis with a subtle smile. "They are strict with protocols."
Caelen swallowed hard, impressed by the guard’s discipline, and lifted the ingot with both hands. As he weighed it and examined its surface in direct sunlight, his eyes widened in astonishment. The purity of the refined metal was mind-blowing, almost at the same technical level as the creations of his own empire’s master blacksmith in the capital. The alloy maintained the exact blend proportion to grant strength and flexibility without becoming brittle.
What truly unsettled Caelen and Varis was not just the quality, but the sheer volume. Before them stood eight lined-up wagons, packed to the brim with ingots of identical size, weight, and finish. Every single piece looked exactly the same, a mass-production standard that was impossible for their own master blacksmith to replicate, as he required entire days of handcrafted labor to process small batches.
Varis leaned into Caelen’s ear, his voice trembling slightly with excitement.
"Young master..." said Varis. "If we bring this pre-refined metal back to the capital, we will meet this year’s quota without problem. Remember that of the raw ore the Black Skull Tribe sold us, only three-fifths was usable due to their crude smelting process. This... this is worth ten times more."
Caelen gripped the ingot tightly, looking at Helga and Lennis with renewed ambition and respect. The Overlord Tribe was no simple band of conquerors: they possessed smelting technology and an organization that rivaled the great cities of the north.
Helga, noticing the lingering surprise written across the young merchant’s face, made a gesture toward the wooden tables set up near the mess kitchens.
"Your people must be starving after the journey," said Helga. "Join the breakfast before setting out. We have no shortage of food."
Caelen and Varis accepted without hesitation. The tribe’s attendants served them steaming bowls of seasoned beast meat, roasted root vegetables, and a hearty rustic bread. Even the caravan’s four imposing draft beasts received large bales of fresh fodder and clean water. The food was rich, far superior to the dry rations the merchants were accustomed to during their wilderness crossings.
"Lennis," said Helga, turning toward her counterpart as the visitors finished their meal. "Take your men and escort the caravan to the main residence. I will remain in charge of the perimeter."
"Understood," said Lennis, adjusting his leather cloak. "Get everything ready. We move out in ten minutes."
As the wagon column began its march along the paved road connecting the facilities, Caelen and Varis could not stop examining every detail of the settlement. What they saw around them defied everything they knew about local tribal architecture.
The dwellings were neither skin tents nor flimsy mud huts, but firm wooden houses, aligned with angled roofs to shed rain. What caught Varis’s attention was the construction method: instead of binding logs with vines or crude joints, the planks were secured with steel nails and bolts—a technical luxury reserved for major imperial cities.
Passing by the central square, the group paused before a colossal structure serving as the town hall and administrative hub of the post. It was a massive two-story building framed with thick beams supporting immense weight. Despite its scale and the strong valley winds, the structure stood rigid, without creaking or swaying.
"It’s incredible..." said Caelen, gazing at the precision of the high facade’s joints. "How did you manage to erect a building of this magnitude without it collapsing? In the north, a timber structure this tall would require months of calculations by our engineers."
Lennis, walking alongside Caelen’s wagon while holding the reins of his mount, smirked with pride.
"It is the method taught to us by the Great Shaman," said Lennis. "He designed the blueprints, support ratios, and weight distribution before the first beam was placed. Under his guidance, building this took us only a few weeks."
Varis and Caelen exchanged a look of astonishment. The leader of the Overlord Tribe possessed not only crushing military might and an iron grip over his people, but also the knowledge of a master architect and engineer. With every league they traveled toward the main settlement, any thought of trying to trick Kellar grew increasingly distant and dangerous.