When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist

The connecting rod kept moving back and forth, driving the driving wheels of the spring locomotive in endless cycles.

With one arm resting on the window frame, Alexei held down his hat with the other hand, squinting as he watched the fast‑fleeing pines and firs on both sides ahead.

The forest green and the youthful golden sun swirled and blended like muddied water.

He opened the carriage window; like seawater from the deep ocean, the gold‑green of wood and sun whooshed into his eyes, instantly dyeing Alexei’s pupils the same color.

The spring machine buzzed as it turned, and the shifting light and shadow outside the window also spun in his pupils; time clattered forward.

Alexei had grown a beard, grown taller by twelve centimeters, and the soft, round flesh of his cheeks had gradually clung to his cheekbones.

It had been four years since 1453, and he had gone from a naive thirteen‑year‑old child to an eighteen‑year‑old youth.

In this era when one was considered an adult at fourteen or fifteen, eighteen was already the age of a young man.

Half a year ago, after graduating as an auditing student from Saint Danji Military Academy and Holy Mechanism Court University, he once again set out on the road to Falan.

This half‑year, cursory journey through Falan had undoubtedly shown Alexei many things, yet he could not help constantly comparing it with the Holy Alliance.

The more he compared, the more puzzled he became.

Before this, he had always believed the Holy Alliance was a rising power, while Falan was an old established power.

So before going to Falan, he had been full of anticipation.

But as he traveled deeper into Falan, the more he went, the more doubts he had, to the point of being increasingly disillusioned.

These chaotic fields, these potholed roads, these randomly laid‑out town streets.

Especially after he reached Huaqiu City, this sense of shattered illusion reached its peak.

Leaving aside the filth all over the ground and a city full of Liu Ying, just the crowds of beggars and thugs everywhere had already opened Alexei’s eyes.

On his first day in Huaqiu City his purse was stolen, on the second day his luggage was stolen at the inn, and on the third day, when he went to report to the guards, he was extorted for money again.

Thinking back to the cities of the Holy Alliance—orderly streets, clean windows, incorruptible Night Watchers and military police.

Not to mention the courts and judges’ trials he had sat in on in both countries.

Over in Falan, big and small cases alike ended in detention or the death penalty, and a case taking a month was considered fast.

As for the Holy Alliance, after setting up criminal courts with prisons and civil courts without prisons, their case‑handling speed became astonishingly fast.

A civil case was basically resolved in two or three days, and even a criminal case, once it entered the trial phase, would not drag on for more than two weeks.

All along this journey, Alexei had only one question: who exactly was the real old established power?

Alexei even began to doubt whether he had chosen the wrong benchmark by taking the Holy Alliance as his point of reference, believing he could catch up.

However, Teomir did not stint on praise at all, practically itching to settle down on the spot.

Falan’s art, Falan’s fashion, Falan’s culture were indeed more than a little superior to those of the Holy Alliance.

The problem was, what use were culture and art to him?

The Norn people needed guns and spring machines, not paintbrushes and porcelain.

As for the wealth Falan had amassed over a thousand years, it was something the Holy Alliance simply could not compare to; but the problem was that Falan had only empty wealth it could not put to use.

All that wealth was in the hands of nobles and tycoons!

It was as if Falan were a Ninth Rank Breathing Technique Knight, but afflicted with epilepsy, its limbs out of control, able to exert only thirty percent of its strength.

The Holy Alliance, though it possessed only the Third Rank Breathing Technique, had sound hands and feet and could exert its power to the fullest.

All in all, this journey through Falan had indeed broadened Alexei’s horizons, yet it also made him miss the Holy Alliance all the more.

Especially after the Holy Alliance’s exposition opened, Alexei all but wished he could immediately fly back to the Holy Alliance.

He wanted to see just what stage the Holy Alliance had developed to, and whether there was anything he needed at the exposition.

After all, in these past few years in the Holy Alliance, he had also learned the principle of adapting to local conditions.

Many agricultural machines that worked perfectly in the Holy Alliance could not be used at all when copied one‑to‑one over to Fat Cow Castle in Norn.

Most of the land in northern Norn was viscous and damp; ordinary seeders or horse‑drawn plows could hardly work such soil.

So he needed specially made, heavier agricultural machines suited to the local climate, crops, and farming practices.

In today’s northern Norn, the Shooting Army under Duke Petrov’s faction had already become a regional force that could not be ignored.

As long as he returned and, with the help of the Holy Alliance, gained control of this new army, he would need at most five years to take back his position from those usurpers.

By then, if nothing else, an agricultural revolution with Norn characteristics would begin.

He was going to need a batch of machines like this.

In fact, three to five years of development time was just about right; by the time he finished seizing power, the machines could be put into operation immediately.

He didn’t expect the Norn to reach the Holy Alliance’s level within his lifetime, but at least in the Bear Castle Territory, could they reach Falan’s level?

Just thinking about leaving the Holy Alliance and heading for that Norn Kingdom full of mud and packed with savages, he felt an indescribable melancholy.

Once he left this civilized world of the Holy Alliance, would he ever again see the splendor before his eyes?

Better cherish it; this might very well be the last time.

"Lord Alexei, what are you looking at?" A respectful duck-like voice exploded by Alexei’s ear.

Alexei pushed away that acne-covered head with one hand. "Angerrock, didn’t I tell you not to talk so close?"

The scolded youth wasn’t annoyed at all; he just grinned and sat down opposite Alexei. "The Holy Alliance sure has some skilled artisans. This self-propelled carriage is really well made."

"This isn’t a self-propelled carriage, it’s a Spring Machine locomotive." Mentioning this term, Alexei couldn’t help getting a bit excited. "Back then Brock said we wouldn’t see one in twenty years. I said he was a fraud, and look, haven’t we seen one in just these two years?"

As Foundry Director of Gray Furnace Town, Elder Brock had been repeatedly pressed about locomotives by Alexei and the other Holy Junior Generals.

Back then Brock had sworn solemnly that the information spread in the newspapers wasn’t about the real first-generation Spring Machine locomotive.

If what they dreamed of as a Spring Machine locomotive was a ’1’, then with public progress at the 0.5 generation, the experimental machine at most counted as generation 0.8.

At the time, all the Holy Junior Generals had been disappointed yet believed him, until the appearance of the Galloping Horse Contract.

That old fraud!

Thinking of this, Alexei stuck his head out the window and looked at the Spring Machine locomotive head up front.

A brass cylinder lay horizontally, with a decorative winding key like a clock mounted at the front end, a guide-wheel guard grille below, and a fluorite lamp above.

A brass-colored framework fixed the mechanical body made of gearboxes onto the chassis, with the rear end connected to the control compartment.

But everyone knew the only part that really did the work was the spring compartment at the back; inside the main horizontal iron cylinder, it was filled with moon-mercury damping fluid.

Perhaps it was because he’d received the Holy Alliance’s mechanical engineering education; although he hadn’t yet reached the point of independently designing machines, Alexei still felt a surge of excitement.

The power of machinery, the beauty of order!

He was determined to bring this power back to the Bear Castle Territory and to turn Fat Cow Castle into a second Holy Mechanism Court!

"Do you really have to get this worked up, cousin?" Angerrock propped his face in his hand in boredom. "Isn’t it just some ordinary artisan’s creation? I don’t even feel it’s that fast."

"What the hell do you know!" Through the window, Alexei rolled his eyes and pointed at Angerrock. "This is the Holy Father’s true might, borrowing the Holy Father’s power for my use—and for everyone’s use.

This is the spring drive, this is the real miracle of the Divine Art. That so-called Divine Technique of Walking on Flat Ground blessing can go eat shit..."

"Hey, you passenger over there, that’s the third time! I told you, you’re not allowed to stick your head out the window!"

Before Alexei could finish, a shrill rebuke rang out.

Alexei immediately and nimbly pulled his head back in, while Angerrock burst into loud, merciless laughter.

"No yelling inside the carriage!"

Angerrock’s laughter was like its throat of fate had been seized; it cut off instantly.

Looking at this unreliable cousin in front of him, Alexei didn’t feel any irritation.

This Angerrock was his uncle’s child studying abroad in Falan, counted as one of the fixed core staff Petrov had left for Alexei.

Don’t be fooled by his young age; this was a prodigy who’d graduated university at fifteen, even Charlie had heard of him.

After Theomir and the others left, this Angerrock was the second-generation core their family had left him.

It had to be said, the most important asset Duke Petrov had left Alexei was his reputation.

With the title "son of Duke Petrov," whenever it came to recruiting Norn people—especially northern Norn people—things always went smoothly.

Even for his cousin Angerrock, who had lived in Falan for a long time and was basically already Falan-ized, the effect was surprisingly good.

This guy was Alexei’s designated future chief civil official; as for chief military officer, he had that lined up as well.

It was the very person coming to pick him up right now.

As the locomotive’s clanking hammer blows slowly stopped, Alexei jumped down and saw a young man walking over.

He wore the Holy Alliance Army officer’s standard uniform, his beard clean-shaven, striding quickly toward them.

"Ballery!"

"Alexei!"