The autumn sun fell palely over the castle garden, where Roland had improvised a small open-air laboratory. Before him, Anna held her hand outstretched, her expression focused and logical as a flame flickered over her palm, slowly melting a piece of raw iron to test the precision of her temperature control. Arthur and William watched closely, feeling an intense heat that seemed to defy the laws of thermodynamics.
Roland, however, averted his gaze from the witch for a moment, fixing it once more on the two strangers. The initial shock had passed, but the curiosity of the engineer Cheng Yan still burned bright.
"You said you come from a place where logic builds the world," Roland began, pointing toward Arthur's wrist. "But that watch, and that fabric... in my land, we call that industrial production. How did you obtain such items in a world that still struggles to smelt low-quality iron?"
Arthur adjusted his hoodie, processing the best response to maintain their facade without being entirely untruthful to his "soul compatriot."
"We come from a civilization that mastered material synthesis and micro-engineering, Your Highness," Arthur indicated the logo on William's shirt. "What you see as a brand is the seal of a guild that standardized weaving through machines driven by principles you are about to rediscover here."
William, leaning against a pile of limestone blocks, gave a wry smile. "Let's just say we are 'future consultants,' Roland. The system that brought us here ensures we have the right tools for what is to come."
At that moment, Anna ceased her magic. Sweat glistened on her forehead, but her gray eyes remained direct and blunt. William, seizing the pause and moved by his charismatic—and somewhat provocative—nature, approached the witch with a confident stride.
"You know, Anna, your control is impressive," William said, leaning in slightly, attempting to use the charm he believed was worthy of a harem protagonist. "With that fire and my protection, we could be the most powerful duo in this kingdom. What do you say we leave this damp castle and explore the world once all this is over?"
Anna looked at him with a logical coldness that would make a knight tremble. "The world outside these walls wants me dead on a gallows. The Prince gave me freedom and a scientific purpose. Why would I choose the 'protection' of someone who wastes energy on empty words?"
Arthur let out a short laugh at the monumental rejection his friend had just suffered. "She's pragmatic, Will. Save your breath for your future training sessions with Iron Axe."
Three days passed in a blur of activity. Arthur spent his time cataloging the town's resources, while William trained his physique to withstand the magical load now flowing through his veins. On the third day, the door to the castle parlor was flung open urgently by Barov. The assistant director looked as if he had aged ten years in a single afternoon, clutching scrolls that detailed imminent ruin.
"Your Highness, the situation is worse than we feared!" Barov exclaimed, tossing the reports onto the table where Roland, Arthur, and William were gathered. "The trade agreement with Longsong Stronghold is pure exploitation. We trade our valuable ore for mere crumbs of food, and our coffers are nearly empty."
Roland examined the figures with a grimace. "So, we are dependent on them to survive the winter?"
"Not just that, Your Highness," Barov lowered his voice, the fear evident in his eyes. "The Months of Demons are coming. In less than three months, the miasma from the Impassable Mountain Range will transform animals into demonic, black-blooded hybrids. Tradition demands a total evacuation to Longsong Stronghold, or we will all be slaughtered."
Arthur leaned over the regional map. "Evacuation is a political trap, Barov. Duke Ryan wants the people to abandon the town so he can claim the mines once the snow melts."
"Arthur is right," Roland affirmed, slamming his fist on the table. "If we flee now, we will never be independent. Barov, inform the hunters and Carter: there will be no evacuation. We are going to build a cement wall and use Anna's fire to forge whatever is necessary to defend ourselves."
Barov turned pale. "A wall? In three months? That's impossible! The beasts tear down any wooden palisade!"
"It won't be made of wood," William intervened, his eyes gleaming with battle-readiness. "It will be an alloy unlike anything you've ever seen. And if the beasts come, they'll find something much hotter than a Graycastle winter waiting for them."
Silence fell over the room. Roland looked at his new allies, feeling that the transmigration into this neglected body was about to become the greatest challenge of his life. The demonic beasts were approaching, but for the first time in the history of Border Town, the light emanating from the castle did not come from candles, but from the promise of an industrial revolution powered by magic and science.