Industrial Revolution of the Mage Lords

Chapter 179 Where did this bumpkin come from?
The south gate of the Pioneer Territory's city wall faces the foot of the northern slope of Jackdaw Ridge. It is the most deserted on weekdays, and there are no foreign refugees queuing up for inspection to enter the city.

But today, a small group of people were standing at the South Gate early in the morning, waving vigorously at Dave, Chris and others from a distance.

Chris felt a little embarrassed lying on Duff's back, and immediately struggled to get off the ground. He limped and was supported by his apprentice into the group of people who were obviously there to greet him.

A young man in an off-white robe, with thick hair half-tied up, stepped forward with a smile, shook Chris's hand, and greeted him warmly, "You must be Mr. Chris, right? You are a truly promising young alchemist. I am Egno Medeiros, the director of the Pioneer Territory Medical Center."

"I'm Chris Bird, hello, Mei..." As they were greeting each other face to face, Chris suddenly noticed a pair of pointed ears between the man's tied-up hair. One of them was slightly damaged, as if it had been cut in half by some sharp weapon. "Mr. Medeiros..."

He...he is actually a hybrid elf.

The noble lord of the pioneer territory here was so bold that he secretly took in a hybrid elf and let him parade around so openly without any intention of concealing his identity.

Doesn't the Elf Kingdom have a strict covenant agreement with the other nations and the Federation, which forbids them from taking in or helping these hybrid offspring who are accused of polluting the elven bloodline?
Chris then remembered that the officer named Duff, who was leading the territory's private soldiers who went to the remote Jackdaw Town to greet them, was also a half-orc. However, he seemed to not care about his humble identity at all. He shouted and commanded the human soldiers under his command along the way, and seemed to be quite supported and loved by those soldiers.

This vast and secretive pioneering territory, located outside the national border north of the Divine Ridge Mountains, is quite chaotic in terms of its personnel composition.

Egno didn't care about Chris's surprised look at all. He still greeted him warmly, "Come on, go to the city gate to complete your information registration first. I will be responsible for your reception during this period. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask me."

Chris nodded, expressing his understanding. Registration for entry into the city is a form of identity verification implemented in many closed territories that have issued martial law or curfew orders. Even if the lord himself does not care, the territory guards and patrols will not easily give up this lucrative job. After all, the entry fee paid for entering and leaving the territory is very profitable.

"Name, age, background, and skills?" The civil servant of the city hall guarding the south gate rarely encountered an outsider entering the city in a day, and at this moment he was immediately on high alert.

"Chris Bird, 21 years old, from Alayeh, specializes in... uh, alchemy." As he spoke, he pulled out a gold pound he had prepared long ago from his purse, gently placed it on the table, pressed it with his finger, and pushed it towards the civil servant in charge of city registration. "Mr. Guard, I and the fifteen apprentices I brought with me all need to register to enter the city..."

The civil servant stared at the gold coin he pushed towards him, stunned for a moment and asked in confusion, "Foreign currency? No, no, no, you're mistaken. I'm only responsible for registering your basic information here. If you want to exchange it for territory gold, you have to go to the bank next to the city hall!"

Chris was also stunned. When he heard the other party asking him to exchange coins, he felt his heart pounding with fear. My God, the lord of this pioneer territory actually... actually privately minted coins and openly circulated them in the territory!
This is a serious crime that will get you arrested and hanged by the royal families of the southern countries!
He didn't dare ask further, his face flushing red as he stammered, "No, no, no, I don't want to exchange the territory's currency... I, I'm just paying you, uh... the city entrance tax."

The civil servant chuckled and explained with a wink, "Who told you that you have to pay taxes to enter the city? Where did this bullshit rule come from? Aren't taxes deducted from everyone's salary in advance?"

Chris kept his mouth shut, not daring to answer. He turned his head and looked for help at Egno who was waiting not far away.

"Alright, alright. This young gentleman is visiting the North for the first time and isn't familiar with our rules and regulations. Hurry up and register him, and then let us in!"

The civil servant then scratched his head and replied respectfully, "I understand, Mr. Egno!"

……

Chris held a stack of small paper cards in his hand and followed Egno with a puzzled look on his face, listening attentively to his incessant explanation of the basic situation in the territory.

"After you've settled in, give this card to everyone you brought with you. Don't lose it carelessly, or you'll be treated as illegal immigrants and taken away for questioning if you're raided by the Defense Forces or the National Police."

Drinking tea? Chris keenly noticed the anomaly in the other party's words. After a moment's deliberation, he whispered, "Lord, would you allow high-ranking officers in your territory to privately associate with alchemists like us?"

This time it was Egno's turn to be stunned. "What do you mean by making private friends? Hahaha! Sorry, when I said tea, I meant I would arrest you and take you back to the police station for questioning. I didn't really mean to invite you for tea!"

For a moment, the two of them walking side by side felt awkward, feeling like they were completely off the same wavelength. After a while, Chris couldn't help but speak first. "Mr. Medeiros, when can I officially meet the Lord?"

He paused, then asked with some hesitation, "And... until now, I still don't know the Lord's honored name..."

"Hahaha, that's fine. Just call me Lord like me. Only the mayor, chief advisor, and commander of the territorial army, who are closer to you, dare to call you by your real name..."

Egno stroked his stubbled chin and continued, "My orders were to receive you and arrange accommodations for you. I don't know anything else... Perhaps the Chief Advisor will meet with you tomorrow."

The two walked at the front of the team, chatting and asking questions, and soon arrived in front of a two-story building.

"Okay, this is the accommodation assigned to you. The guys from the Ministry of Construction said this place is called... a guesthouse. Hehe, it's specially designed for temporary accommodation for visitors like you from the southern border."

Chris looked around and realized that he had walked all the way from the city gate to here along an extremely straight road. The road surface was paved with materials that looked like slag and gravel. After being pressed and hardened by rolling stones, it became extremely flat without even a pothole.

Dense and tall trees are planted on both sides of the road, making the entire street look green, spacious and flat.

An apprentice couldn't help but sigh quietly, "Compared to Alayeh, there's not much difference here, except that the houses all have neat gray walls..."

Someone called out in the distance, "Mr. Egno! Mr. Egno! Why are you here in the municipal district today?"

Chris squinted and saw several soldiers wearing dark gray uniforms and leather felt hats, walking towards him quickly with smiles on their faces.

Wait! His eyes narrowed, and he realized something was wrong.

The gray-clad soldier in the lead... he rolled up one of his trouser legs... revealing a mechanical prosthetic leg with a brassy metallic luster and strange patterns on its surface.

The metal prosthetic leg bent and moved as flexibly as his real leg as he took quick steps, making it impossible to tell from his gait that he was a disabled person with a broken leg.

No! No! The Quest Society has conducted countless experiments grafting and fusing living subjects with alchemical devices, but achieving perfect integration of alchemical prosthetics with the host, achieving the level of perfect control, is simply impossible. Furthermore, those who undergo these grafting experiments often suffer from erosion at the graft site, complete disharmony of the metal limb, and the resulting tragic consequences of amputation to prevent the necrotic wound from becoming infected and ultimately fatal.

"This is impossible! How...how did you do that?" Chris' eyes suddenly widened. He lunged forward, knelt on his knees, and held the soldier's flexible metal leg. He asked in a trembling voice, "Why is your metal leg able to bend and straighten so flexibly, and even allow you to maintain balance while walking?"

He followed the metal prosthesis upwards, reaching out to pull off the man's uniform pants. "Where is the grafting wound on your severed limb? Isn't there any necrosis or erosion?"

Max was shocked and quickly grabbed his belt that was almost taken off. He took out a metal baton from his waist and raised his hand to hit the top of the head of the madman who rushed out to take off his pants. Fortunately, Egno stopped him with his quick eyes and hands.

"Don't do it! He's an alchemist from the southern border!"

Max curled his lips, slowly put away his baton, looked at Egno, then looked at the perverted young man who was holding his thigh and muttering to himself... He couldn't help but mutter something.

"Where did this bumpkin come from? Why did he pull my pants right away?"

(End of this chapter)