By nightfall, the hall transformed from a debating floor to a blueprint battlefield. Tables once used for feasts became negotiation grounds. Parchments flew. Seals were melted. Contracts written and rewritten.
The largest document was titled:"The Industrial Accord of Navaleon"
It contained:
Standardized component specifications
Royalties to local manufacturers
Design iteration clauses
Conflict arbitration tribunals
Revenue splits by region
Technical guild certification systems
Lord Darshan observed from the balcony, disbelief dancing behind his composed features. Sharath moved between groups like a seasoned diplomat—one moment explaining stress tolerances to a skeptical armorer, the next assuring a logistics guild that faster transport would multiply, not cannibalize, their demand.
By midnight, thirty-seven signatures adorned the Accord. That number would become legend.
At the final signing, a candlemaker-turned-machinist from western Ravir clasped Sharath's small hand and said, "Boy or not… you've just changed what it means to be a craftsman."
And just like that, the empire of gears began—not with conquest, but consent