A mage? A spell engineer!

Chapter 636 Dalberg

As Alek descended from the airport tower, the mechanical transmission was not visible, but the sound of its operation could be heard inside the elevator cabin. The closer he got to the ground, the warmer the air became, eventually condensing into water droplets on his sunglasses.

It's humid and warm here, and there are two systems operating simultaneously: one for burning transmutation dust and the other for burning coal.

The massive transportation hub is bustling with people, with humans and dwarves making up nearly half the population. The latter are mostly remnants of the Dwarven Confederation, who generously took in these displaced people after the Black Sun Catastrophe.

Therefore, in Dalberg, you can see traces of the dwarves and their construction everywhere. Rough cement and gray stone are exposed inside and outside the buildings, along with rivets and brass pipes all over the ceilings and walls, which not only serve a practical purpose but also show the aesthetics of these dwarven craftsmen.

However, there are also those who do not belong to the dwarves.

Tall magical golems transport heavy goods, while forklifts and trucks are driven by transmutation dust. More intricate and complex magical circuits continuously cycle and flash with arcane radiance, providing functions such as lighting, indication, temperature control, monitoring, and alerts.

The mixed styles radiate outwards from the transportation hub and the count's mansion, making the entire Dalberg a huge military fortress with factories, residential areas, and commercial streets crammed into the gaps and underground.

A squadron of fully armed air cavalry trotted past Alek. He took off his glasses and watched enviously as these aerial acrobats disappeared behind the turnstiles.

"What, you want to fly to the sky too?" Vogel, stroking the wine jug, looked up and glanced sideways at the boy he had raised.

"Well, I mean, we can get two sets of mobility devices, which are better than ropes." He carefully took off and put away his sunglasses.

"Impossible! Do you know how expensive this thing is?! Even a second-hand, previous-generation product costs 14 gold coins! And that's only with Alliance Coupons!"

Vog's shouting drew glances from passersby, since they were still within Imperial territory. However, no one paid much attention soon enough, knowing that Byrne's influence was everywhere. The area had long since become an alliance.

"Dear passengers, please note that due to weather conditions, all flights are suspended from now on. Trains to Beijing are temporarily delayed by one hour. We sincerely apologize for any inconvenience caused." The announcement in the hall played again.

"Where are there any passengers going to the capital now? Aren't they all astral beings?" Vog muttered for a while.

The scavengers are doing business with the astral dwarves. Besides the astral dwarves who are happy to buy their ancestors' legacy from them, there are also many idle humans and elves who return to the ground from other planes or the astral plane and then speculate on these artifacts at high prices.

The prosperity of Dalberg, or rather the entire border Counts of the Empire, is based on this. They sell these things to the Astralists and develop "nostalgia tourism," earning foreign exchange which they then give back to those people in exchange for food and other strategic resources to maintain their presence on the ground.

Alek was at an age where he could eat a whole cow, but he and the dwarves mostly ate "astral rations," supposedly a product from the air elemental plane, a thought that made Alek nauseous. However, this did not change their physiological need for calories and their craving for food; their rumbling stomachs signaled to the dwarves that they should feed the human boy.

"Let's go, to our usual spot."

After leaving the transportation hub, they did not return to the ground, but instead came to a closed pedestrian street. The surrounding shops catered to astral tourists, and only the locals knew which shops were not so shady.

Shops that claim to be "not that bad" are definitely dirty and run-down. After all, Dalberg has almost lost its production capacity. Almost all the factories that are still operating are producing weapons and ammunition to maintain the defense line. The little capacity left is used to keep the city running. Almost all other goods have to be imported from the sky, and they are ridiculously expensive.

If scavengers are unable to find items that the astral beings are interested in, they can collect the most ordinary things from the ruins of the dwarven cities, then put them in and out of dilapidated shops, where they can be bought by residents who are not so wealthy.

They pushed open the door to a crowded, filthy bar, where men in similar professions were gathered, drinking. A crooked sign hung on the wall, and through the grease, they could barely make out the words "Adventurers' Guild - Dahlberg Branch." They didn't know if it was part of the owner's collection or a way of revealing the true nature of this run-down bar.

In any case, it has now become a hub for scavengers to sell stolen goods and consume them.

"Oh, a wine jug. And what else?" The one-eared elf innkeeper accepted the only remaining spoils of the trip. Then he presented a tin jug to the dwarf, a dish of food, and a cup of water to the boy.

"That's all."

"That's all?" The boss glared, then looked away. He still looked lively, but his throat had been ravaged by tobacco and alcohol into a hoarse, unpleasant voice. "Well, it's good that you have some. After all, the others didn't go out; they were just busy drinking here. I wonder how many of them will run up a tab."

Vogel exclaimed incredulously, "They didn't go out?"

"Yes, we were all notified after you got drunk."

"Damn it!" Vog shouted, and the tavern was instantly filled with a cheerful atmosphere.

Alek silently munched on his "Astral Rations," which were sometimes off-white and sometimes grayish. The latter looked like old stuff, but there wasn't much difference. They were all tasteless, and as you chewed them, they would steal all the moisture from your mouth, leaving a strange aftertaste.

In Vogel's words, it tasted like mushrooms, but Alek had never eaten anything called "mushroom" and couldn't imagine it. However, he was certain that he hated mushrooms, just as much as he hated the sliced ​​dry rations he was eating now.

"Okay, the estimated value is 78 copper."

"Look closely, this is pure gold! Don't be fooled by the silver plating on the outside."

"Oh, so some cautious dwarves like to hide things like this. Let me see, this is interesting." The shopkeeper perked up a bit, and after examining it carefully, he didn't try to bargain, but instead offered a condition that was even more unacceptable to Vog: "You can list it here for sale, and when a dealer or an astral man buys it, I'll give you a cut."

"No! No, no, no, I want cash. I delivered the goods, so I need to receive payment."

"But I can't afford to quote a price. Unless you accept what I can afford." The shopkeeper said calmly, "You see, not everyone is as easygoing as Mr. Vogel, able to pay my bill right away." At this point, the one-eared elf raised his eyelids slightly: "Ladies and gentlemen, you've been sitting here for far too long!"

"Oh, don't do that." "Hey, you're driving your customers away!"

The owner had anticipated these customers who would stay at the tavern for as long as they could after ordering a watered-down drink: "Starting today, the shop will only offer 10 credit slots, first come, first served."

"I...I...I just remembered I forgot to turn off the heat at home, boss, I have to go now." "Goodbye, boss!"

In an instant, people swarmed out of the shabby shop, leaving a jumble of currencies scattered on the counter: currency issued at the end of the empire, vouchers for daily necessities issued by the Earl's territory, as well as Allied coins and Hearthfire coins from the Astral Dwarf Confederation.

The shopkeeper was too lazy to count them; he knew he wouldn't be able to collect them all anyway. He was about to gather them all together and throw them into a drawer when Vogel stopped him: "How about we trade these for the jugs?"

You'll still lose money.

The dwarf, contrary to his usual behavior, said, "It's alright. You still have money, right? Could you lend it to me?"

"Are you in a hurry for money?" the elf frowned.

Vogel took a deep breath and looked at Alek: "I'm going to send this kid to the Astral Plane, within the next few days. I've saved up enough for the ticket, just a little short, understand? The next starship is the day after tomorrow." He pinched his thumb and forefinger together.

"Huh?" Alek, who was chewing on dry food, almost choked.

(End of this chapter)