Chapter 116 (From engineer to Conqueror)

Miguel watched the door open and saw João entering, closely followed by Lila. João, even with an amputated arm and the eye patch covering his war-marked face, seemed to have recovered. He moved with determination, and there was a certain calmness in his gaze, a sign he was overcoming the trauma. Beside him, Lila stood firm, and Miguel noticed the connection between them. He knew they had grown close, forming a couple, and it made him proud. Amidst the war and chaos, João and Lila had found something good.

Miguel smiled at them and asked, “What can I do for you?”

João exchanged a quick look with Lila before responding. “Actually, it’s Lila who wants to talk to you.” He cast a worried look at her and added, “I tried to make her change her mind, but… she’s determined.”

Miguel turned to Lila, noticing the seriousness on her face. “What is it, Lila?” he asked, curiosity and concern evident in his tone.

Lila took a deep breath, gathering courage, and replied. “I want to join the military. I want to fight to protect Drakmoor… and avenge what they did to João.”

Before she could say more, João quickly interrupted, looking distressed. “Lila, you don’t have to do this for me!”

Miguel raised his hand, signaling for them both to be quiet. He looked directly at Lila, analyzing the determination in her eyes. “So you want to fight?” he asked.

Lila nodded, without hesitation. “I do. And even if you try to stop me, Miguel… I’ll go.”

Miguel paused, observing her closely, before responding. “I wasn’t thinking of stopping you, Lila.”

Lila blinked, surprised, visibly confused. “But… why not?”

João also looked at Miguel, appearing bewildered. “My king, Lila is young. She shouldn’t be involved in something so dangerous.”

Miguel let out a slight sigh, understanding João’s concern, but replied firmly. “We’re all young, João,” he said calmly. “Lila is stronger than me, you, and perhaps any other soldier of Drakmoor. She’s not an ordinary girl. She’s extraordinary.”

João and Lila fell silent as Miguel continued. “She’s been training with Lysandra and has proven herself a skilled fighter. Even if I deny it, I know Lila will fight anyway.” He then looked at her with a slight smile. “Isn’t that right, Lila?”

Lila smiled back, determination shining in her eyes. “Yes. And I thank you for trusting me.”

Miguel nodded, satisfied with her response, and asked, “Was that all you wanted to tell me?”

Lila and João confirmed, and Miguel gave a warm smile before looking at João with a more serious expression. His eyes lingered on João’s empty sleeve, where his right arm used to be. Guilt still washed over him seeing his friend like this.

“João,” Miguel said, choosing his words carefully, “I believe that soon I’ll be able to give you an artificial arm.”

“Artificial?” João frowned, not fully understanding.

“A prosthetic,” Miguel explained. “But not just any prosthetic. I’m talking about something functional, that could replace your arm and allow you to use your abilities as before.”

João’s eyes lit up at the possibility. “Is that really possible?”

Miguel smiled confidently. “Right now, no. But it will be soon. And when that day comes, you’ll be the first to receive help. That’s a promise.”

João smiled, a mixture of gratitude and hope in his eyes. “Thank you, my king.”

With a final nod, João and Lila left, leaving Miguel alone again. He returned his attention to the sketches and documents on his desk. The weight of responsibility was still there, but now there was a spark of renewed motivation. Miguel knew there was much to do, both on the battlefield and within Drakmoor.

A few minutes passed, and another knock on the door broke the silence of his office.

Miguel looked at the door, raising an eyebrow, and saw his sister Amelia entering. A slight playful smile was on her lips, and she held an elegant bottle of wine in her hands. “I thought they’d never leave,” she commented with a teasing tone. “They’re almost like your children.”

Miguel let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as Amelia closed the door behind her and lifted the bottle, showing it to him.

Amelia filled two wine glasses, offering one to her brother. They raised their glasses and toasted, the crystal emitting a soft clink that broke the silence of the office. They both drank, savoring the brief tranquility that the wine provided.

After a brief silence, Amelia looked at Miguel with curiosity in her eyes. “So, what are you really planning, Miguel?” she asked, a hint of teasing in her voice.

Miguel raised an eyebrow, trying to hide a smile. “Be more specific.”

She rolled her eyes, but the smile remained. “You know… the war, Aurelio, and this new kingdom you’re building. What’s the real plan?”

Miguel sighed deeply, staring at the wine in his glass for a moment, as if the answers were hidden there. “What I said in the meeting stands. I intend to expand this war until I bring down the kingdom of Árdia. No matter how much time or sacrifice it requires.”

Amelia brought the glass to her lips and took another sip, processing what he had just said. “That’s practically impossible, Miguel. Árdia may not be the richest kingdom on the continent, but it’s one of the largest and best-armed. That’s not something you achieve overnight.”

“I know,” Miguel nodded. “That’s why I’m expanding Drakmoor’s industry. We need an economy and arms production capable of sustaining a long-term war.”

“But… how do you expect to weaken such a powerful kingdom?” she asked, narrowing her eyes as she tried to understand her brother’s reasoning.

Miguel placed the glass on the table and looked at her calmly. “Every kingdom has its weakness, Amelia. Árdia isn’t as united as it seems. Many of the duchies under its rule aren’t truly loyal to the crown; they’re there out of convenience or fear, and that lack of unity is a crack we can exploit.” He paused and smiled. “But first, I want to deal with Aurelio. He and the lands he commands are a valuable asset. Resources, territory… and an army that can turn against the crown itself.”

Amelia frowned, concern showing on her face. “Miguel, we don’t have enough resources to take all of Aurelio’s duchy. That bastard may be arrogant, but he’s not a fool. He has a considerable army at his disposal.”

Miguel refilled his glass, taking a sip before responding. “Sometimes, it’s not about having more soldiers or weapons, but about knowing where to strike the enemy.”

He paused, and Amelia noticed the calculating gleam in his eyes. She knew him well enough to understand he had something in mind. “You’re thinking of something specific, aren’t you?”

Miguel nodded and smiled slightly. “Let me tell you a parable. There was an arrogant king who believed himself invincible. He oppressed his people, took everything from them, and used force to keep them silent. But gradually, the anger and pain of those below him became a force. One day, when he least expected it, his own people, tired of suffering, rose up and ended his reign. He fell at the hands of those he underestimated, and all his power wasn’t enough to save him.”

Amelia smiled, understanding the metaphor. “So, that’s what you’re planning? To provoke his own people to bring him down?”

Miguel nodded. “Aurelio is arrogant and has no limits. He’s not like our father. The former duke knew his limits. He had control over what he did, even as a tyrant. But Aurelio doesn’t know any limits. He sees himself as invincible.” Miguel paused, looking at his sister. “All we need to do is give a little push. Plant a few seeds of doubt and fear… and the rest, I believe, he will take care of himself.”

Amelia felt a slight chill seeing that strategic and even ruthless side of Miguel, but at the same time, she couldn’t hold back a smile. That was the kind of coldness that made Miguel a true leader, someone who knew what it took to protect the kingdom they were building. She smiled, a glint of complicity in her eyes. “Well, no matter what you do, Miguel. I’ll be by your side, always.”

Miguel smiled in response, gratitude clear on his face. “Thank you, sister.”

---

Some days had passed since Miguel had left his uncle, Ricardo, in command of the troops on the front line. The war was at a standstill, exactly as he had anticipated. The more time he gained, the better his chances of strengthening Drakmoor and consolidating its defenses. At that moment, however, he was focused on a more urgent task — the construction of the steel mill.

In front of him, standing in the meeting hall, were Marcus, the chief carpenter, and Arthur, the master blacksmith of Drakmoor. Both observed Miguel's plans attentively as he explained the steel mill project and the importance of the equipment they needed to build. He detailed each machine, from the large rolling cylinders to the additional furnace systems to speed up the melting process. He believed he had thought of everything.

"...and with these machines," Miguel concluded, pointing to one of the sketches he had drawn, "we’ll be able to produce steel and ammunition on a much larger scale. This will allow us to reinforce the defenses and keep the troops equipped without relying so heavily on our smithy."

Arthur, the blacksmith, furrowed his brow as he examined the drawings, then raised his eyes to Miguel, shaking his head with a regretful expression. "My king," he began, choosing his words carefully, "I understand the importance of this project, but, unfortunately, I can't say this is feasible at the moment."

Miguel raised his eyebrows, surprised by the response. "Why, Arthur? What are we missing?"

Arthur let out a heavy sigh. "Manpower, my king. All our blacksmiths are occupied with projects already in progress — forging weapons, producing ammunition for the front lines, and meeting the town's demands. We simply don’t have enough people to build machines of this scale right now."

Miguel nodded slowly, processing the blacksmith's words. He understood the challenge, but the idea of delaying the steel mill frustrated him. They needed to move forward, find a way to expand production, and every delay meant more risk. He pondered in silence, but no clear solution came to mind.

After a few moments of silence, Marcus, the carpenter, broke the tense atmosphere. "Majesty," he said, drawing the attention of both Miguel and Arthur, "perhaps there’s another way for us to get what we need. And this solution may lie far beyond our borders."

Arthur looked at Marcus with an intrigued yet skeptical expression. "What do you mean by that?"

Marcus crossed his arms, looking thoughtful. "I’ve heard of the dwarven kingdom on the southern islands. If we try to negotiate with them, perhaps they could help us with the equipment. Dwarves are exceptional craftsmen and blacksmiths, known across the continent."

Arthur immediately scoffed, crossing his arms. "That’s a dream, Marcus. The dwarves haven’t made contact with humans for centuries. That kingdom is almost a legend to us."

Marcus shrugged. "Perhaps, for humans. But remember, we are not the only inhabitants of this realm. Our beast-man allies maintain good relations with the dwarves. They could help us establish contact."

Miguel, who had been silent until then, observed Marcus with growing curiosity. "If this dwarven kingdom exists, why have we never heard of it?"

Marcus gave a slight smile. "Because of geography, my king. Drakmoor’s coast is blocked by the conflict with Árdia. But the beast-men have a port to the south of the continent, safer and a few weeks' journey from here. If they agree to help, we can set up an envoy with them to make the request for assistance."

Miguel reflected on Marcus’s words, considering the possibilities. He then turned to Arthur. "These dwarves… what exactly are they capable of?"

Marcus replied before Arthur could say anything. "Dwarves are incomparable craftsmen and blacksmiths. They say they can build anything, as long as they know what to make. And, my king, you have detailed sketches and ideas for these machines. Additionally," he said, lowering his voice, "we have the firearms you developed. If we offer these designs as part of the negotiation, they’ll have something valuable in exchange."

Miguel nodded slowly, a spark of interest appearing in his eyes. Marcus’s proposal seemed promising and could represent the progress they so desperately needed. "And you, Arthur," he asked, turning to the master blacksmith, "what do you think of this?"

Arthur still looked skeptical, but couldn’t deny the logic of the idea. "The dwarves are stubborn and will certainly bargain… they won’t be easy to convince. But, considering our situation and the shortage of manpower, I think it’s worth a try."

Miguel nodded, feeling the decision solidify in his mind. "Then it’s decided," he declared. "I’ll write a letter to the beast-men kingdom and request help for this mission. And to lead the envoy, I’ll invite Brother Baromir. He is one of the most qualified beast-men for this mission; he will certainly help us establish contact."

Marcus and Arthur nodded, sharing Miguel’s quiet enthusiasm.