Chapter 1 — The Prince-Duke's Awakening
The Radiant Empire had ruled the continent for ten thousand years. Its throne was the sun at noon; its law was the shadow every man stood in. In this empire, blood decided rank. The Emperor's bloodline was the purest flame. The princes were born with the sun's mark, each stronger or weaker depending on the will of the heavens.
There was a law older than most dynasties: when a prince reached eighteen, he would be summoned to the Eternal Sun Palace, judged by blood and bone, and granted a territory to rule. The elder princes already had their lands. Today, only one name was called.
"The Seventh Prince, Aurelius Solaris."
The throne hall was a sea of gold. Pillars carved with blazing suns climbed to a painted sky. Banners of flame silk hung without moving, even though every breath in the room felt heavy. Ministers wore their best robes. Generals stood straight with swords at their sides. Nobles tried to look calm and failed.
A youth walked out to the center of the hall.
He had golden hair. It did not shine like polished metal; it looked like living fire, quiet but hot. His eyes were two molten suns. They did not glare or shout, but men still could not meet them for long. His face was calm. His back was straight. He stood as if the rest of the world had to arrange itself around him.
A pressure rolled out from him. It was not wind. It was not sound. It was the sun pressing down. Bloodlines trembled. Meridians throbbed. Old cultivators clenched their teeth and tried not to sway. A clerk near the back dropped his brush and did not dare pick it up.
"This oppression…" a minister whispered, sweat running behind his ears. "This is the Ancestor's breath."
"The purest Sun Bloodline," another said, voice shaking. "I have not felt this in my lifetime."
On the Sun Throne, the Emperor leaned forward. He wore a robe that looked simple until the light touched it; then it flowed like liquid gold. He had the face of a ruler who made laws by speaking. He had the eyes of a man who had outlived storms. Those eyes were warm today.
"Seventh Son," the Emperor said. His voice reached every ear without effort. "You have come of age. The empire will see your blood and your bone. After that, I will give you land and title. Step forward."
Aurelius stepped forward. He bowed just enough. He said nothing.
Attendants rolled out a block of divine wood. It was old and dark. A knife pressed against it would skate and squeal. Beside it stood a basin of blessed water drawn from the sacred spring under the palace. This was the first test every prince faced.
"Show us your flame," the Emperor said.
Aurelius raised his right hand. He did not chant. He did not stomp or wave. A small sun opened in his palm. Golden fire flowed from it like a ribbon, smooth and steady. It touched the log and the log caught. The flame bit deep at once.
An attendant poured the blessed water. It hissed into steam. The flame did not even bend. Another attendant poured more. And another. The flames clung to the wood as if they had roots, as if the log itself had become a wick for the sun. The fire ate patiently, cleanly, without smoke. It burned until the log was gone. There was no charcoal left to poke. Only ash like gray snow.
The hall went still. The sound of the last drop of water hitting the floor rang like a bell.
"Holy water does nothing…"
"It won't stop until there's nothing left…"
"Indestructible flame…"
The Emperor nodded once. "True Sunfire," he said. "Unstoppable once set. Good."
He lifted two fingers. A second cart rolled in. On it stood a pillar of Dragon Stone. It was black and dense. Two men could not move it without wheels. Swords left no mark on it. This was the second test. A prince's body had to carry his blood. If the body was weak, the flame would die with it.
"Strike," the Emperor said.
Aurelius stood before the stone. He did not call his flame. He drew back his fist and drove it forward.
The sound was a crack of thunder in a stone sky. A white line split the pillar from top to bottom. Dust sifted out in a thin stream. The pillar leaned and then found a new, broken balance.
"With his bare hand…"
"This is a body forged by the sun…"
"His bones are harder than steel…"
The Emperor laughed. It was not loud. It did not need to be. It filled the room anyway.
"Very good," he said. "The Ancestor smiles upon you, my son."
Aurelius lowered his hand. His knuckles were unmarked. He looked as he had looked since he entered: calm, aloof, as if this was all expected. Inside, his thoughts were colder and clearer than any pool. Another life had taught him to count, to plan, to measure. That life was gone, but the habit remained.
A voice he had never heard spoke in that still place.
— [Mechanical Eye: Online]
— Host Compatibility: 100%
— Blueprint Access: Available
— Command?
The words were clean and exact. They did not feel like another mind. They felt like a tool that had found its master.
Aurelius did not blink. He did not look around. He spoke downward, inward.
Demonstration. Minimal scale.
— [Acknowledged]
— Micro-Array: Sunforge Prototype
— Energy Input: Low Sun Flame / Ambient Trace
— Fabrication: Begin
Light drew thin lines on the marble floor. Circles and angles formed like writing. Metal frames rose as if the palace had been hiding them under its skin. Gears slid into place with soft clicks. A small golden device stood waist-high before him, complete in breaths. At its heart a bead of light pulsed.
The hall drew in a collective breath and held it.
"What power is this?"
"A second bloodline?"
"Two gifts… he has two!"
No one in that hall knew the word technology. No one in that hall had seen a blueprint. They saw metal rise at a prince's feet and they gave it the only name they had: divine.
Aurelius fed the little core a thread of flame. A panel on the crown rotated. A needle of light shot upward, touched the high air, and burst like a small sun. It was not an attack. It was a statement: I can make things.
The Emperor stood from the Sun Throne.
He descended the steps. He did not hurry. He did not stop for ceremony. Men bowed as he walked. He stopped before his son and placed a hand on his shoulder. The warmth in his eyes was not small now. It was open.
"Two powers," the Emperor said, and his voice turned the words into law. "The purest Sunfire of our Ancestor. And a second inheritance the world has not seen since the age of legends. Seventh Son, you are chosen by heaven."
He lifted his hand. An officer brought a blackwood box and opened it. Inside lay a golden seal carved with the crest of the sun. It was the size of a man's palm and heavier than it looked.
"From this day forth," the Emperor said, "you are Duke of the Western Frontier. Hold it as Prince-Duke. Guard the borders. Build your city. Let the world see our house through you."
Aurelius took the seal. It was warm. He bowed just enough again. He met the Emperor's eyes and held them for a heartbeat. There was no fear there. There was no softness either. There was only steadiness.
"I will not fail," he said.
"I know," the Emperor answered. He said it the way a man states the time.
All around the hall, ministers dropped to their knees. "We greet His Highness, the Seventh Prince-Duke!"
Along the side aisles, the elder princes watched. The First Prince's jaw worked. The Second Prince's eyes were like winter wells. The Sixth Prince's hands were fists behind his back. Envy moved across their faces and then hid. Their bloodlines felt smaller. They did not say so.
Aurelius turned away from the throne. His aura moved with him, warm and heavy. People bowed again without meaning to. He walked out under the banners. The doors opened. The palace square lay before him like a shield of stone. Evening had come. The first star had just opened its eye.
Captain Reyes waited at the foot of the stairs with a small honor guard. He was broad and calm and had the wary eyes of a man who had seen something he could not explain but would choose to serve anyway.
"Your Highness," Reyes said, fist to chest. "The guard is formed. Horses and supplies are ready. We can march at your word."
"Dawn," Aurelius said.
An older official with tired shoulders and honest eyes stepped forward and bowed low. "Governor Sada, appointed to guide Your Highness to the frontier. The roads are rough. The forest is deep. There are bandits in the hills, beasts near the river, and—"
"All of that is fine," Aurelius said. His voice was even. "I need iron, stone, timber, and water. The rest will move when the walls rise."
Sada blinked, then nodded. "Yes, Your Highness."
The small golden device in the square hummed softly. Lanterns flickered as if they were shy of it. People kept their distance without knowing why.
— [Mechanical Eye]
— Territorial Package Ready
— Recommended Sites: Three
— A: River plain with ridge (iron ore, granite, strong flow).
— B: Lake basin (clay, timber, fish, weaker ore).
— C: Plateau edge (good stone, poor water).
— Initial Build (Phase One): Wall Ring / Four Gatehouses / Foundry / Powder Mill
— Defenses: Bastion Cannons / Rotary Guns / Watchtowers
— Labor Requirement: 1,200–1,800
— Material Requirement: 1,500 tons stone / 900 tons iron / timber assorted
— Energy: Sun Flame (Sustained)
Aurelius read it in a glance. His mind moved like a wheel with teeth that never slipped. He could see a river flashing in sunlight. He could see a ridge of stone. He could see a wall, an iron gate, gun towers speaking thunder, and men on the other side choosing to turn around.
He closed his hand over the seal. The metal did not bend. It might, someday.
A few nobles had followed at a respectful distance. They watched him with expressions that tried to be kind and failed. They were thinking the same thought: Two bloodlines. A flame that cannot be put out. A body that breaks stone. A power that builds machines. Fear followed that thought like a shadow.
Aurelius looked once at the palace behind him. He did not hate it. He did not love it. It was a mountain; he was the sun; both would still be there in the morning.
He went down the steps. The honor guard parted. The crowd parted. Some people knelt. Some simply watched with their mouths open. A child on a father's shoulder reached out a hand and then hid his face. It was not because Aurelius looked cruel. It was because his aura made the world feel small.
At the carriage, Captain Reyes opened the door and then hesitated. "Your Highness… if I may… that small device. Will you take it with you?"
"It will be disassembled," Aurelius said. "It has done its work." He paused. "Leave a rumor. Tell them I awakened a second bloodline. Let that be the story."
Reyes's eyes flicked. He smiled without showing teeth. "As you command."
A messenger ran up the steps behind them, breathless. He bowed so low his forehead touched stone. "Your Highness! A decree from the Ministry of Rites. The departure procession will be at first light. The city gates will be opened for you alone."
"Good," Aurelius said. He stepped into the carriage. The seat was plain. He set the golden seal on his knee and rested two fingers on it, feeling the warmth soak into his hand.
— [Mechanical Eye]
— Route Plotted: Capital → West Road → River Fork → Ridge
— Survey on Arrival
— Construction Sequence: Fortress City / Phase One
— Note: Iron stockpiles in capital: 0.7 days of demand. Recommend scrap purchase program on arrival.
Buy scrap. Pay fair. The city will bring me iron that walks, Aurelius thought. Then walls. Then order. After order, more.
He closed his eyes. He did not sleep. He watched plans move behind his eyelids. He measured days by the weight of stone, by the length of walls, by the number of guns that would speak before a man could raise his shield.
Outside, the small golden device in the square dimmed. Palace servants and engineers moved toward it, cautious as men approaching a sleeping beast. A last glimmer ran along its frame and went out.
The doors of the Eternal Sun Palace closed. Inside, the princes were already speaking softly to their own men. Messages would ride on the night road. Some would carry gifts and smiles. Some would carry knives wrapped in silk.
On the Sun Throne, the Emperor sat with one hand on the armrest and the other hand still warm from where it had rested on his son's shoulder. An old eunuch waited without breathing.
"Your Majesty," the eunuch said at last. "The Seventh Prince is… unlike the others."
"He is," the Emperor said. He did not sound worried. He sounded like a man who had seen the plan of a great bridge and wanted to see it built. "Send word to the Western Frontier Prefecture. Clear the road. Any lord who takes a bribe, remove him. If bandits gather, hang their leaders on the mile stones."
"As you command."
"And send a letter to the Elders' Hall," the Emperor added. "Write this: 'The sun has risen again. Watch. Do not meddle.'"
The eunuch bowed until his forehead touched the floor.
Night deepened. The square emptied. The stars were small and far. The palace lanterns burned like captured pieces of day. A city slept, then stirred, then slept again.
At first light, the gates opened. Banners snapped. Hooves rang. The Seventh Prince-Duke's column rolled out of the capital and onto the West Road. People lined the way. They did not shout. They did not throw flowers. They simply watched and told themselves later that they had been there when it began.
Inside the carriage, Aurelius opened his eyes. The molten gold in them did not waver. He lifted his right hand. A spark of Sunfire danced on his palm and went out.
"I will build a city no enemy can breach," he said under his breath. "From there, the world."
The Mechanical Eye answered without voice, only with certainty.
— [Acknowledged]
— Work begins.