Chapter Thirty-Three: The Outcast Princess

Ten days later, at the Gate of Dawn.

A colossal canyon nestled between two towering mountains, with an imposing city wall standing tall in the middle, barring any enemy that sought to assault the royal capital. Upon the wall, more than a hundred meters high, magical heavy ballistae bristled, and knights in heavy armor patrolled with vigilance. Below, travelers presented their documents or submitted to inspection at each of the city gates in turn.

Suddenly, figures appeared on the distant horizon—massive horses galloping, ridden by the kingdom’s knights. At first, the garrison showed no alarm; such scenes were common, likely an escort of knights bringing a prince or princess back to participate in the royal selection.

But in the next moment, an archer atop the city wall, using far-sight magic, turned pale. He saw enormous steel monsters in hot pursuit of the kingdom’s knights.

“Monsters! Monsters are chasing the kingdom’s knights!” he cried.

For a heartbeat, the entire Gate of Dawn fell silent. Then, the array etched across the city wall burst into dazzling radiance, and the massive heavy ballistae shimmered with fiery light. Knights drew their swords, archers nocked their arrows, and the magical siege weapons aimed at the monsters chasing the kingdom’s knights.

Merchants and commoners awaiting passage scattered in panic, fleeing to either side of the gate; in such circumstances, the guards would allow no one to enter. The distant commander of the knights, seeing this, felt his blood run cold and, for a split second, suspected the Gate of Dawn had fallen to the enemy.

Summoning the energy within, the knight commander linked himself with the surrounding knights, forming a defensive formation to shield the princess, who sat atop one of the steel monsters. In a thunderous voice, he bellowed, “In the name of the Kingdom’s Knights, I order the Gate of Dawn’s garrison to cease fire at once, or face execution for treason!”

His voice carried to the distant gate. The guards hesitated but ultimately did not attack, nor did they stand down from battle-readiness.

Led by the kingdom’s knights, the convoy reached the Gate of Dawn safely. After a round of explanations, the misunderstanding was cleared up, and the garrison offered profuse apologies, lifting the state of alert.

With soldiers and townsfolk looking on, the convoy rolled slowly through the Gate of Dawn, behind which lay a bustling city—a veritable hub where merchant caravans from all over the kingdom converged.

As before, Olina led a group of a dozen or so up to the city wall and set up a radio station. Along the journey, her status had truly come into play; under the escort of the knights, they met no obstacles, and even when they set up a radio every so often, not a soul opposed them—indeed, they were even afforded special protection. Even if, to the eyes of the otherworldly folk, these radios were nothing more than heaps of scrap metal.

Of course, it wasn’t Olina herself the nobles truly feared, but the Kingdom’s Knights who accompanied them.

The accompanying team of experts also noticed something odd: the knights treated Olina with excessive deference, almost as if her word were absolute. They wondered if this was how all royals were treated; if not, the reason behind it was all the more intriguing.

The guards found the strange contraption curious and puzzling, but since the princess herself had ordered it, they raised no objections—besides, it didn’t take up much space.

Those among the garrison who were privy to inside information showed only full support, letting this seemingly powerless commoner princess do as she pleased.

Once the radio was set up, Olina picked up the receiver and said, “Hello, hello, Qin Le, can you hear me?”

There was a few seconds of silence, then a familiar voice echoed from the receiver.

“I can hear you, Olina. Where are you now?”

“We’ve just entered the Gate of Dawn. We should reach the capital in three days. By the way, haven’t you been exploring the Death Marsh these past few days? Found anything tasty?” Olina asked.

The Death Marsh covered a third of the Dawn Kingdom’s territory, stretching across several kingdoms. The deeper one ventured, the stranger and more dangerous the monsters became—no one knew what lay beneath the fathomless swamp.

“Haven’t found anything edible, but there are plenty of monsters. The only discovery is an entire lake of crude oil. I’ve never seen open-air petroleum before, let alone on such a scale.”

“Petroleum?” Olina was puzzled.

“It’s what you call black water.”

“Oh, black water. But what do you want with that stuff? Inhaling too much can be fatal, and it pollutes the land. At most, people use it to make lamp oil or waterproof things.”

“You’ll understand in time. By the way, could you pass the receiver to Aimoa? I have a few questions for her.”

“Alright.” Olina turned and handed the receiver to Aimoa. “Aimoa, Qin Le wants to ask you something.”

Aimoa took the receiver, her face full of curiosity. “Hello, what is it?”

“Aimoa, do you know how big the Death Marsh is? And how much black water is in there?”

Aimoa pondered for a few seconds before answering, “No one has ever truly measured its size, but as far as I know, it spans at least five or six countries. And you shouldn’t go too deep—the marsh is strange, the deeper you go, the more monsters you’ll find, and all sorts of inexplicable things happen in there.”

“As for the black water you mentioned, there should be plenty. The marsh’s outskirts are full of it, and it stinks. Some places use it to make lamp oil or for waterproofing.”

After a brief chat, Aimoa handed the receiver to a middle-aged man in a suit—the diplomat, Wen Bi—for routine reports.

...

Elsewhere, in the Death Marsh.

Helicopters hovered above the great, pitch-black lake below—the very lifeblood of industry, crude oil, and the natural gas it released.

Li Zhiyuan, who had recently received permission to enter the new world, gripped a handrail, his gaze fervent as he looked down at the sea of oil. “Incredible—this is all petroleum!”

“Doctor, be careful,” Qin Le reminded him, his tone concerned but his expression utterly indifferent, even a touch cold. “Don’t slip and fall in. If you do, we’ll never fish you out.”

Li Zhiyuan turned with a gentle smile. “Major, if I fall in, it’ll be a great loss for the Republic.”

“Heh, if you fall in and become part of the oil, you’ll still be serving the Republic,” Qin Le replied mercilessly.

“Haha, Major Qin, your tongue is as sharp as ever.” Li Zhiyuan showed no sign of offense—clearly, he was used to Qin Le’s barbs.

“Major, it’s been years since we’ve spoken like this, hasn’t it? Ten years have slipped by unnoticed. Twenty years ago, I never thought the empire would end at your hands.”

“I’m not here for reminiscence,” Qin Le replied impassively.

Privately, he scoffed: “Ended the empire at my hands? This old man’s melodramatic. I only killed an emperor; how could I possibly topple a whole nation? What do you think I am, a god?”

Still smiling, Li Zhiyuan changed the subject. “Major, when do you plan to set out? Headquarters is eager for you to receive the Blessing of the Dawn Sword. Perhaps it can finally resolve the side effects of the experiment.”

“I’ll go once the convoy reaches the capital and confirms the situation there,” Qin Le said offhandedly. He then sized Li Zhiyuan up and down. “You should come with me. At your age, who knows when you’ll keel over from a stroke.”

“Haha, I’ll pass. Major, our old agreement didn’t include an extended sentence,” Li Zhiyuan protested, waving his hands.

“Oh, but it did. We were quite clear about it. Doctor, maybe your memory’s slipping with age.” Qin Le paid the madman’s protests no mind, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Doctor, I still need your talent. Who knows, you might help me figure out what this gate really is in the future.”

“You overestimate me, Major,” Li Zhiyuan said reflexively, then quickly shifted topics. “By the way, yesterday I extracted tubercle bacilli from a popular noble’s recreational herb in the Dawn Kingdom, something like tobacco—called drifting leaf.”

“That bacterium causes a pulmonary infection much like tuberculosis. And the king’s rumored symptoms are very similar to tuberculosis.”

Qin Le’s brow rose in doubt. “The King of Dawn should be a fourth-tier knight. Do you think a being whose strength is measured in tons could contract tuberculosis?”

Supernatural powers meant that people in this world were generally robust, and those with such powers rarely fell ill. Olina, for example, had never been sick in her life, regardless of her circumstances—even in her days in the slums, illness was rare among those around her.

Here, minor ailments were nonexistent, and major ones neither required nor allowed for treatment.

Li Zhiyuan replied, “Humanity here is not so different from us. In theory, our diseases could afflict them too. And the king is elderly—if supernatural power wanes with age, he might be susceptible.”

...

Five days later, the royal capital.

Xuanlu’s convoy, led by the kingdom’s knights, entered the bustling city, causing a stir and minor chaos. No matter the race or status, all eyes turned on the steel monsters rolling by. Were it not for the knights’ escort, many would have thought unknown beasts had invaded the capital. In truth, these armored vehicles were terrifying enough—their very eyes seemed to contain people inside.

Dwarves trailed after the convoy, faces alight with fanaticism, running their hands over the armor. At first, the knights thought it was an attack and hastily summoned patrols to surround the convoy.

A large group of dwarves was detained, and they struggled desperately, shouting, “Let me touch it! Just once, let me touch it!” Were it not clear what they intended to touch, one might have taken them for some kind of degenerate.

Once the convoy rolled into the palace, the commotion gradually subsided. Olina stepped down from the armored vehicle, gazing at the gleaming marble floors and the ornate, magnificent palace. At its very center, highest of all, a massive gem known as the Light of Dawn shone with dazzling brilliance.

Everywhere she looked was splendor—such a stark contrast to her tiny mountain village that it felt like two different worlds. Yet Olina’s beautiful face remained cold and indifferent, a far cry from the girl she’d been in her fief.

The knight commander bowed and spoke respectfully, “Princess Olina, His Majesty awaits you in the palace. Please, follow me.”

Olina nodded slightly.

It had to be said, Olina’s expressionless demeanor truly befitted a princess—noble, aloof, and imposing. The moment she smiled, however, she seemed almost golden-haired and childlike.

The knight commander cast a glance at the strange items held by the dark-haired foreigners nearby, pondered for a few seconds, and decided not to confiscate them.

Normally, all weapons would be surrendered before an audience with the king. But these odd contraptions were neither sharp nor radiated any power, looking more like iron rods than anything dangerous—not worth confiscating.

The group proceeded into the heavily guarded depths of the palace. Before long, they halted as another party approached, also accompanied by kingdom knights.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. No wonder I caught a whiff of something foul from afar. I thought some filthy thing had slipped into the palace, but it turns out to be the infamous commoner princess.”