"Masters, these… these are for us?"
Nate's eyes widened in disbelief. He swallowed hard, staring at the pile of clothes and food before him.
He had once been a wealthy man in his old homeland. He knew quality when he saw it, and the fabrics of these garments were exquisite — the kind of clothes that would cost at least one gold coin each back in the Kiswell Kingdom.
And now, they were being handed out to a group of refugees like him?
The soldier standing before him smiled faintly. "Of course, they're for you. They're nothing valuable here. Eat up, change into your new clothes afterward, and then follow us. You'll soon be assigned work. Each of you has some craft or skill — maybe one day you'll become rich and powerful yourselves."
As he spoke, the soldier shoved the clothes and a few white steamed buns into Nate's hands. The other refugees hesitated, still unsure whether this was some cruel trick. The soldier frowned and barked, "Don't just stare at them — eat! Anyone who refuses to eat will get a beating!"
Only then did realization dawn on them: these precious white buns and high-quality garments really were for them.
Unable to resist any longer, they tore into the food. As they bit into the soft, fragrant buns, tears welled up in their eyes.
A group of once-starving refugees crouched on the dirt road, devouring their first full meal in weeks. The white flour stuck to their hands, but none cared.
Nate himself began to cry.
His home had been burned by the orcs. For over a month, they had wandered across wastelands, watching friends and family starve to death, sometimes surviving only by miracle. Now, in this humble outpost of the Ross Kingdom, he finally felt warmth again — kindness that seemed almost impossible after all he had lost.
And he realized just how wealthy this new kingdom was.
In the Kiswell Kingdom, it would take a fortune to buy a single outfit like this. Here, they were handed out casually to refugees.
Nate clenched the bun tighter, determination flashing in his eyes. If I work hard, I can start from nothing again here, he thought. I'll build a new life in the Kingdom of Ross.
---
"Sir," Nate said between bites, "what about the others outside?"
"You don't have to worry about them," the soldier replied while lighting a cigarette — a newly developed luxury in the Ross Kingdom.
"Someone will come for them soon. They'll get the same treatment. Farmers will be given land to cultivate. Merchants or craftsmen will be assigned to the National Chamber of Commerce. And those who know nothing — well, there's plenty of work building railways and roads. As long as they're willing to work, they won't starve. Everyone earns money here."
The soldier took a slow drag, savoring the flavor. Cigarettes here weren't quite like the ones from Earth — they contained special herbs from the continent of Roriland and only a trace of nicotine. They calmed the nerves but didn't poison the body.
He took only two puffs before snuffing it out — cigarettes were expensive, and he had gotten them as a gift from his officer brother.
---
"What? There's land for farming?" Nate and the others gaped in shock.
If they had known that earlier, they might have claimed to be farmers too. Land meant security — food, wealth, and a future.
In every mortal nation, land was life itself.
But the Kingdom of Ross was no ordinary nation.
Though its hybrid-grain fields had only recently been planted, and the first harvest was still to come, the country's commerce and industry were already thriving.
Thanks to Gavin Ward — the genius who had partnered with seven great merchants to establish the National Chamber of Commerce — the Ross Kingdom now traded with every member of the Tongsley Empire and hundreds of neighboring human realms.
Electric lights, artificial leather, plastic, woven cloth, and countless other goods flowed from Rossian factories to the rest of the continent, earning tens of millions of gold coins each month!
The industrial base of Ross might have been primitive, but its assembly-line production meant that goods were incredibly cheap to manufacture. Selling them abroad brought in profits that were ten times higher than their cost.
And when Gavin Ward had plundered hundreds of millions of gold coins from the treasury of the defeated Orc Empire, the Ross Kingdom became unimaginably wealthy.
Now, if Gavin lacked anything, it wasn't money.
With money, he could buy food from anywhere, so no one went hungry.
The nation's prosperity trickled down to its people — even ordinary citizens had become rich. Many ran small shops or caravans, bringing Rossian goods to neighboring nations. Low cost, high profit — life had never been better.
Compared to other kingdoms, Ross stood like the heavens above, while the rest of the world crawled below like earthbound mortals.
---
After finishing their food and changing into clean clothes, the refugees boarded a military truck with wide eyes and pounding hearts.
As the engine rumbled to life, the vehicle rolled forward — and laughter, wonder, and disbelief filled the air.
"Hey! How's this thing moving without horses?"
"Must be magic! What else could it be?"
A chorus of amazement followed.
Nate, however, stayed quiet, lips twitching thoughtfully.
He had seen true magical creations back in Kiswell — artifacts powered by arcane energy that carried a faint, otherworldly pressure. Whenever he neared one, he could feel the magic humming in his bones.
But this truck… felt different.
There was no aura of mana, no mystical vibration. Just the smell of oil and the thrum of metal.
That could only mean one thing: this was not powered by magic at all.
His heart raced. Then what is it? Some kind of human invention? A machine?
The realization awed him. If the Ross Kingdom could create something like this without magic, their technological power must be beyond imagination.
He grinned to himself. When I make my fortune here, I'll buy one of these vehicles! Even a small one will do!
For the first time in years, Nate felt hope — real, burning hope for the future.
---
Just then, a shadow streaked across the sky.
Everyone looked up, jaws dropping.
A golden-haired woman soared overhead, her long hair streaming in the wind, carrying a little girl in her arms.
"Ah! Ya'er, slow down!" the woman cried. "You'll hurt yourself!"
Tears sparkled in her eyes — part fear, part joy.
The child she held, Ya'er, laughed wildly. "Hahaha! This thing's amazing!"
Strapped to her back was a crude jet-pack-like contraption, its roaring thrusters propelling her upward. It looked just like the mechanical wings used by the steel half-orc soldiers.
The refugees on the truck stared in stunned silence.
To them, flight was a miracle — something reserved for angels, dragons, or magicians.
But here in the Ross Kingdom, even children could soar through the air.
---
The soldiers escorting the convoy chuckled at their expressions. "That's one of the new inventions from Lord Gavin Ward's laboratories," one explained proudly. "He says soon we'll all be able to fly — maybe even across kingdoms in a single day."
The refugees murmured in disbelief.
In their old lands, people fought over scraps of bread. Here, men built machines that could move without horses and devices that let humans fly.
It felt like stepping into a dream.
Nate clutched the edge of his seat, his eyes wet once more — but this time not from sorrow.
He whispered to himself, "A new world… a real world of miracles."
The truck rolled onward, dust rising behind it as the sun set over the hills.
The once-desperate refugees, now dressed, fed, and carried toward their new lives, gazed in awe at the skyline glowing with electric lights — proof of a kingdom reborn through industry, invention, and courage.
And at the heart of it all stood one man — Gavin Ward, the man who had turned a ruined land into the richest nation on the continent.
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