On the outskirts of the City of Qubi, a land-clearing worksite blazed with feverish activity, swallowing the last dregs of dusk.
Heavy iron shovels struck the hard-packed earth with dull, rhythmic thuds.
There were no mirror-smooth cement roads like those in the Royal City — only churned yellow dirt and the brine of sweat.
Among the crowd of miners, one figure stood out: slender in build, but moving with a precision that seemed almost unnatural.
Bardess had her lips pressed tight. Her coarse work clothes had long since been soaked through with sweat and spattered with mud, and her normally silky brown hair was bundled haphazardly under an old headscarf.
She gripped a long-handled shovel that stood a full head taller than she did, carving methodically through the deep trench meant for the drainage channel.
Even in this most menial of labors, she maintained a near-obsessive exactness.
The walls of every trench she dug were perfectly straight, as though cut by a blade. She had an almost instinctive feel for the thickness of every soil layer.
Bardess had decided: since she had no opportunity yet to prove herself in the City of Qubi, she would temper her bones in the dirt.
Her Majesty taught us in that storm on the rear hills — the land never lies. Every inch a shovel goes down is a measure of the future.
I only need to wait. Wait for that wind to blow in from the Royal City — the wind that carries the mark of Order.
Inside the City of Qubi's Council Hall, the City Lord was absorbed in reviewing official documents against a copy of the Territorial Construction Standardization Manual that Sophia had issued.
Since the coup, he had developed an almost fanatical reverence for that silver-haired sovereign.
In his eyes, Sophia was not merely a ruler — she was an oracle leading the wilderness toward civilization.
When the sealed letter bearing the dark-gold Black Rose wax seal was placed upon his desk, the City Lord felt no trepidation. Instead, with the solemnity of a pilgrim, he held his breath and broke open the envelope.
He did not leave it to a servant. He threw on his cloak himself, saddled his horse, and rode out to the muddy trench at the worksite.
When Bardess looked up from the pit, leaning on her shovel and covered in filth, the sight of the City Lord — normally so composed and authoritative — staring at her with blazing intensity left a flicker of bewilderment in her eyes.
"City Lord? Is it about the depth of the drainage channel...?"
"No, Bardess."
The City Lord dismounted without the slightest concern for the mud beneath his boots, strode directly to her side, and pressed the Black Rose-sealed letter into her dirt-crusted hands with solemn ceremony.
"Read this. This is a summons — issued personally by Her Majesty, Queen Sophia herself."
Bardess awkwardly wiped her hands on the seam of her trousers, drew a slow breath, and let her eyes fall on those cool, razor-sharp characters.
"Bardess — report to the Royal City at once."
Just a handful of words, yet they struck her like a torrent of molten rock pouring through her fingertips and igniting every vein in her body.
Bardess's mind went completely blank. The shovel slipped from her grip and clanged into the mud.
Her Majesty... that sovereign as distant and luminous as moonlight — she actually remembers me?
I thought that in the storm that changed the fate of Mason, I was nothing more than an insignificant bystander — the most worthless speck of dust in the dirt.
Yet she sat upon that high throne, separated from me by ten thousand layers of affairs of state, and she reached out and seized my name with perfect accuracy.
What does this mean?
It means that from that very moment, every ounce of effort I put in, every time I ground myself down in the dirt — all of it was being quietly watched by those pale-gold eyes.
This isn't a letter. This is a god reaching down to forge my soul with her own hands.
"She... she remembers me," Bardess murmured, and two clear tears slid silently down her mud-speckled cheeks.
"Her Majesty was truly watching every single one of us."
The City Lord looked upon Bardess's overwhelmed expression and patted her shoulder with warm satisfaction.
"Go, Bardess. The fact that Her Majesty chose you means you possess a talent that even I have not yet fully seen. This is your opportunity — and Qubi's pride."
He turned and waved toward the carriage waiting nearby.
"Don't waste a single moment — go change your clothes now. The road to the Royal City is long. The faster you ride, the better you prove your loyalty and diligence to Her Majesty. Take the best provisions, ride hard, and don't keep Her Majesty waiting!"
A fast carriage pulled by four fine horses shot out through the gates of the City of Qubi like an arrow loosed from the bowstring, vanishing into the night.
Bardess sat in the swaying cabin, clutching that sealed letter that still carried the faint scent of Black Rose.
She knew: when she next set foot on solid ground, what would greet her soles would be that mirror-smooth royal road — the one etched with the marks of the future.
The morning mist had not yet fully lifted when a convoy of dozens of heavy ore-hauling carts rumbled out of the City of Qubi, coiling like a great dragon, filling the air with a low, thunderous growl.
The wheels sank deep into the moist earth, leaving two long, dark ruts in their wake.
The carts were draped in thick burlap, but nothing could fully mask the cold metallic chill that seeped from the ore beneath.
As it happened to be the scheduled ore-tribute period, the Qubi City Lord had — the moment he received the sealed letter — entrusted this mission, which was the lifeblood of the territory, directly into Bardess's hands.
This was more than a delivery. It was a pledge of allegiance — a gift he was sending with the woman who was about to step into the very heart of power.
Bardess rode atop a gleaming brown stallion, her grubby digging clothes now replaced by a neat ash-gray outfit. Her back was perfectly straight, and though shadows of exhaustion still lingered beneath her eyes from the all-night ride, her gaze was sharper than it had ever been.
She would rein in her horse to inspect the convoy, making sure every axle was properly greased, then cross-reference her ledger to verify the purity and weight of each batch of ore.
This ore is Qubi's gift to Her Majesty. It is also my first answer delivered to the Royal City — the first test I, Bardess, submit.
Every cart I bring out of here must be handed over to the Palace stewards without a scratch.
Once the handoff is complete, the soldiers will take the empty carts back to Qubi — and I will leave behind, once and for all, the days of living elbow-deep in dirt.
But before that, I must show Her Majesty: even a convoy leader hauling ore can carve the word Order into every turn of every wheel.
As the convoy wound around a curving ridge, the view suddenly opened up — and Withered Willow Town, which had always looked desolate from years of drought, now struck Bardess like a vast oil painting with an upended palette, crashing into her vision all at once.
The air here no longer carried the grim bite of winter. Instead, it was filled with a sweet, humid warmth.
The weeping willows along the roadside — which had once looked as dry and gnarled as ghost-claws — had quietly put out tender green buds, like strings of jade beads swaying gently in the mild spring breeze, brushing against the rooftops of the heavy carts as they passed.
But what truly struck Bardess breathless was the cropland stretching endlessly on both sides of the road.
From the freshly turned, dark-red-tinged fertile soil, countless jade-green shoots were breaking through the earth.
Tender wheat seedlings rose like tiny green needles, dense and even, packed into the soil in perfect rows.
They caught the morning dew and refracted it in the sunlight — a sight so alive it made the chest ache.
In the distance between the furrows, flocks of birds could even be seen sweeping joyfully past, as if they too had felt the earth waking up.
This kind of vitality would have been unimaginable in the old days.
Is... is this what a territory looks like under Her Majesty's rule?
I remember this time last year, Withered Willow Town was nothing but scorched yellow. The people's eyes held nothing but fear of famine.
But now, these seedlings stand as orderly as elite soldiers.
They aren't growing in chaos — they are marching in lockstep to some melody of hope, emerging from the body of the earth in perfect formation.
Looking at these bright little things, I feel as though the blood in my veins is beating in rhythm with theirs.
Bardess slowed her horse and let the grass-scented breeze wash over her face.
At the far edge of the horizon, the majestic silhouette of the Royal City was growing clearer with every moment, outlined in the rising sun.
As her horse's hooves struck the road of intermingled dirt and broken stone, Bardess unconsciously held her breath.
She had come to this seat of power more than once before, but never once — not until this moment — had the sheer force of it hit her like a wall before she'd even passed through the gates.
The city gate was not crowded, as she might have expected. In its place was a kind of absolute, purposeful busyness.
Hundreds of workers were perched on tall wooden scaffolding, troweling a gray, viscous, unidentified substance into the gaps of the massive granite city wall.
In the sunlight, that substance had a deep, dense quality to it. As the trowels smoothed it flat, the uneven gaps in the stone vanished instantly — as though the entire city wall had, in that very moment, been fused into one single, indestructible whole.
What is that?
Not lime. Not clay.
That gray substance flowed like liquid rock — and the instant it filled a crack, it seemed to grow into the wall itself.
She could feel it: encased in that gray material, this ancient fortress was shedding its age and growing a new skin.
This method of repair was nothing short of a conquest of traditional masonry.
Her Majesty doesn't just want the roads to be smooth — she actually intends to use this miraculous substance to completely seal even the very city walls that carry the nation's fate?
"More to the left! A little more to the left! Nora, don't let the mortar drip on the ground — that's Her Majesty's money! And you lot over there — save it, yes, but don't be so stingy that you leave the holes half-filled!"
A bright, slightly impatient voice cracked like a whip at the city gate.
Bardess looked toward the sound. High above on the layered scaffolding, a figure with a bouncing pink ponytail was waving a wooden ruler with great force.
It was Irene.
She was crouched at the edge of the scaffolding, her normally clean work clothes splattered with gray flecks, those sapphire-blue eyes locked hard on every smoothed seam — as though she were not patching a city wall but chiseling some sacred offering.
Apparently sensing the vibration from the heavy ore convoy, Irene turned her head with sharp instinct, spotted in one glance the convoy flying the City of Qubi's banner — and the brown-haired young woman leading it.
Irene hopped nimbly off the scaffolding, landing with the light grace of a pink cat darting through rubble.
She dusted off her hands, raised an eyebrow, and strode up to Bardess's horse in a few long steps.
"Well, well — Bardess?"
Irene planted her hands on her hips and looked up at the dust-covered yet sharp-eyed young woman with an expression that was three parts surprise and seven parts teasing.
"How are you this fast? I calculated that with a fast messenger horse, we wouldn't expect to see even a shadow of you until tomorrow morning. Did you install an Alchemy booster on your horse's legs?"
Bardess pulled on her reins, dismounted, and gave Irene a deep, swift, and reverent bow.
"Lord Irene."
Bardess's voice was slightly hoarse, but it carried a firmness she had never had before.
"After receiving Her Majesty's sealed summons, I did not dare delay for a single moment. As the ore-tribute period had just arrived, I took direct command of the convoy and pushed through the night.
We didn't just stay on schedule — we arrived a full day ahead of last year's pace."
Irene turned to look at the dozens of heavily laden carts groaning behind them.
Beneath the thick burlap, the clean metallic scent of ore even overpowered the dust smell outside the city gate.
"All of this is...?"
Irene stepped up to one cart and lifted a corner of the covering. The sight of the exceptionally high-purity iron ore within made her sapphire eyes light up instantly.
"Oh! That's a great batch — just what I need for the next round of work on the royal road foundations. You really did think ahead. Saved on transport fees and everything."
This Bardess — she really is exactly what Her Majesty said: someone clever who knows how to bring Order to the road.
Anyone else getting a reassignment order would probably be busy scrambling to pack their belongings.
But not her. She not only came herself — she brought this whole massive load of ore along with her for Her Majesty.
What that little "by the way" conceals is the most perfect possible attunement to Mason's rhythm.
It seems Her Majesty has genuinely picked up a pearl that can shine even in the dirt. And those tasks — someone will handle them too.
The hot air at the city gate mixed with the alkaline smell of drying Cement. Bardess's gaze lingered on those gray-filled seams — that near-miraculous bonding power made this woman, who understood ore and soil to her bones, tremble somewhere deep in her soul.
Seeing this, Irene tucked her gray-flecked wooden ruler casually under her arm and gave Bardess a satisfied pat on the shoulder, producing a crisp metallic clank.
"Curious about this gray mud? Don't look at it like it's magic — this is the crystallization of science and labor."
"It's called Black Rose Cement. This is a masterpiece the Chief here and Her Majesty developed through repeated experimentation," Irene said with a self-satisfied grin, pointing at the road base hardening underfoot. Those sapphire eyes burned with the fervent glow of a researcher in her element.
"Looks like wet sludge now, but once it cures, it becomes a single mass harder than granite. Whether you're laying that royal road to the future or sealing this city wall that guards Mason — it's the indispensable glue. As for how to actually use it, you'll have plenty of chances to get your hands dirty. Her Majesty didn't summon you here just to watch from the sidelines."
The crystallization of science and labor...
Lord Irene makes it sound easy — but this is clearly a divine power that changes the very nature of the earth itself!
To fuse scattered stones into a single whole — this means Mason's defenses will have no weak points left.
Her Majesty isn't just building roads. She is redefining the very meaning of the word "impenetrable."
To be personally summoned by Her Majesty in an age when such miracles are being born — how fortunate am I, Bardess.
In this gray mortar lies the bedrock of Mason's eternal legacy!
"Nora! Susan!"
Irene turned her head and called out crisply to several young female assistants still busy on the scaffolding above. They wore the same neat work clothes, their hair tied back, looking sharp and capable.
"I'm leaving this to you. Keep an eye on the new arrivals — don't let them cut corners on the mix ratios! If there's so much as a single air bubble, pop it for me! If this wall ends up even one inch crooked, your meal bonus tonight is forfeit — all of it!"
"Yes, Chief!"
The girls answered in unison, their voices echoing through the gate tunnel with a crisp, soldierly efficiency.
Irene gave a satisfied nod, then turned to Bardess, her expression shifting to something more serious.
"Let's go. The Qubi convoy will be guided by someone to the warehouse for unloading. You come with me — Her Majesty made time especially for this, and she's waiting for your report."
Bardess led her horse forward, following behind Irene's light, bouncing stride.
The moment she stepped over the red boundary line marking the division between old and new, and the tip of her boot made contact with the Black Rose Boulevard — she froze.
There was no jolting. No muddy puddles.
The pale-gray surface beneath her feet was impossibly flat. Every step produced a firm, solid feedback, as though the ground itself were pushing back reassuringly.
The drainage ditches on both sides of the road were perfectly consistent in depth. The road's subtle camber coaxed any remaining rainwater to run obediently to either side.
That extreme symmetry and smoothness hit Bardess with a psychological impact unlike anything she had felt before.
This road... it really can be built as flat as a mirror.
Back in Qubi, the carts always jolted axles into splinters. But here in Mason, I feel as though even if you rolled a pearl on this road, it would slide all the way to Her Majesty's throne without stopping.
Her Majesty is imposing her will upon the earth itself — making everything turn straight and efficient, exactly as she decrees.
I, Bardess, must become the most precisely fitted screw in that Order.
Irene walked ahead, her pink ponytail swaying with each step. She seemed to have long since grown accustomed to such miracles, and every now and then called out a cheerful greeting to the owners of newly opened shops along the road.
Bardess, meanwhile, was like a country girl fresh off the cart, wide-eyed in the city. Try as she might to maintain her composure, her pupils kept contracting involuntarily, betraying the storm raging inside her.
"Stop staring — you'll get sick of it eventually," Irene called back with a mischievous wink.
"The Palace is just ahead. Once you're inside, remember to take a deep breath first. Her Majesty's presence hits a lot harder than even these stone walls."
Inside the Council Hall, the scent of fir and ink intertwined in the air.
The afternoon sunlight poured through the tall stained-glass windows, fractured into countless glittering gold fragments — yet when they touched the silver-haired figure seated at the head of the room, even the light seemed to pull back in reverence.
Sophia sat quietly in her wide chair, carved with Black Rose patterns, her pale-gold eyes scanning a preliminary draft of the kingdom-wide road network plan.
At the table before her, Willow was giving a low, calm report on the exact positions of the Qubi ore convoy entering the city.
"Your Majesty, the ore has been directed by Chancellor Valery's adjutant to the western warehouse. Based on the initial inspection, the purity of this batch of iron and copper ore is ten percent higher than usual, and the losses during transport were nearly zero."
Willow's voice carried a note of quiet approval.
"It seems Miss Bardess's management on the road was thoroughly Mason-like."
Just then, the heavy oak doors were slowly pushed open by the guards.
"Your Majesty! I've brought her back!"
Irene came bounding in with her characteristic lack of ceremony, still carrying the alkaline smell of the city wall on her clothes.
Behind her, Bardess — who had maintained her composed, capable bearing the entire way — the moment she crossed the threshold of the hall, felt her breath lock in her chest.
She had rehearsed this meeting countless times in her mind. She had even met Her Majesty face to face on a few prior occasions. But here, now, in this nerve center of Mason's power, Bardess still felt a trembling at the level of her very soul.
Thud.
Without the slightest hesitation, Bardess dropped to her knees on the smooth marble floor with precise and reverent form, her forehead touching the stone tiles lightly, her voice trembling but resolute:
"Qubi subject Bardess, paying respects to the great Lord of the Black Rose — Your Majesty Sophia! May Your Majesty's glory endure eternal!"
Sophia set down her quill. Her pale-gold gaze drifted slowly toward the young woman kneeling on the floor.
Even without any deliberate pressure, the sovereign's aura — built up from countless decisive acts that had reshaped the very order of things — pressed down like an invisible mountain, and Bardess did not dare let her composure slip for even a moment.
"Rise."
Sophia's voice was cool and calm, yet in the open expanse of the Council Hall it resonated with a deep, cello-like richness.
"You arrived a full day earlier than I expected. And that ore... your little 'by the way' solved a rather pressing problem for the West Tower."
Her Majesty said... it solved a pressing problem?
My god. I had assumed that ore was nothing more than a minor afterthought — a trivial contribution. But in Her Majesty's eyes, it was an indispensable piece of some vast, intricate plan.
She didn't reproach me for being covered in road dust. She didn't even show the slightest disdain for my travel-rumpled clothes.
The way she looks at me — it isn't the way you look at a servant. It's the way you look at a freshly finished component, about to be fitted precisely and seamlessly into Mason's gearbox.
This feeling of being needed by a god... it makes every bone in my body want to cry out with excitement!
"Your Majesty, you should have seen her at the city gate — she was staring at the Cement like she was trying to scrub the ground clean with her eyes alone," Irene said with a grin, dropping herself casually into a nearby chair and helping herself to a dried fruit from the table.
"But her efficiency with the ore was genuinely impressive. I glanced at it just now — even the loading boards on the carts were stacked by height in perfect order. If our administrative network had a few more obsessives like her, I'd cut my material losses by a considerable margin!"
Sophia gave a slight nod. Her gaze returned to Bardess, and a note of quiet inquiry entered her voice.
"You heard her. Irene speaks very highly of you. In Qubi, you were responsible for the drainage channel excavation and the registration of displaced persons. You did well."
Willow, standing to one side, poured a fresh cup of wild berry juice for Sophia with elegant grace, her gaze resting on Bardess for just a moment.
Another soul completely won over by Her Majesty's magnetism.
The fervor in this girl Bardess's eyes runs even deeper than the muddy commoners in the city. She doesn't just understand the rules — she understands the aesthetic. When she stepped through the door just now, the exact spot she chose to stand was the position farthest from Her Majesty, and yet the most solemn.
Her Majesty dug her out of Qubi for a reason. It seems she intends to give this one real work to do.
Mason's laws — through this girl's hands — will become a gray contract as hard and unyielding as the city wall itself.
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