Chapter 368: Their New World
As the group made their way toward the heart of Calma, they were captivated by the unexpected vibrancy of the streets. A steady stream of trykes and bikes zipped past them, weaving gracefully between stone buildings and shaded alleyways. Though the streets were still paved with cobblestones, the roads had been refined—smoother now thanks to a careful blend of limestone, clay, marl, gypsum, iron ore, and silica—the same materials used in modern cement. The mixture gave the roads a polished finish that glistened faintly under the sun.
Hephaestus, the genius that he was, had long transcended simple metal smelting; metallurgy, architecture, and engineering—anything that turned raw material into a new form, he embraced with fervent curiosity.
Not far from the original town center, a new heart of civilization pulsed—Calma’s rebirth. Alaric had spearheaded its development a few kilometers from the old settlement. With Lara’s blueprint rooted in modern zoning principles, and Alaric’s architectural instincts, they had fashioned a new capital that was both ancient and avant-garde—a seamless blend of ancient charm and modern order.
The women in the group stared in disbelief at what unfolded before them. Broad, orderly avenues stretched ahead, lined with trees and two-story buildings that bore both stone archways and glass facades. Carriages and horses kept to designated lanes, while bicycles and trykes pedaled by citizens had their own smooth, dedicated paths.
"How do they have so many bikes and trykes?" Layka asked, her voice full of awe as she craned her neck to take in the panorama. "Even the capital never had this many."
"You should ask, all these were done in two years? Wasn’t Prince Alaric banished only two years ago? How could he build something like this in just a short span?" Laida asked.
"Perhaps, he employed many people. Besides, there are only a few buildings. Look over there. They are still building." Zeeta pointed toward the south.
Their journey took them down a bustling boulevard flanked by shops. One entire stretch was devoted to fabric merchants and clothing boutiques. Wooden mannequins dressed in vibrant garments stood proudly behind glass windows. One display featured skirts with wide hems, almost resembling trousers—reminiscent of the ones Lara sometimes wore.
"Mother, the clothes are so beautiful," young Yohana whispered, tugging on Zeeta’s arm as she gazed at a cream-colored dress displayed prominently in the window of the largest shop.