Chapter 54: Opportunity
"Boss... are we really going to keep going?"
Hans's heart was doing gymnastics in his chest, every beat feeling like a drop of blood leaving his body. Hearing the guard's question, he squeezed a single word through his gritted teeth.
"Yes!"
"We've come this far, and we've already paid that exorbitant fee. It would be a waste of good coin to turn back now!"
His gaze swept over his hired guards. In his mind, he had already reached a conclusion: the final payment for these men was gone. He'd simply consider it as using their wages to buy their lives.
Yes, that's it. I'm such a considerate employer, putting my men's safety first.
Hans comforted himself with this logic, and the phantom pain in his wallet eased just a fraction.
The caravan resumed its journey. The carriage wheels rolled over the hard, flat stone of the Great Road, producing a sound entirely different from the rattling of the past. No bumps, no mud, no getting stuck in ruts. It was unnervingly fast. A journey that normally required two or three days of grueling travel was completed in less than half a day.
When the tall, pristine walls of Iron Fortress loomed on the horizon, the entire caravan ground to a halt. One of the guards rubbed his eyes vigorously.
"Is... is that really Iron Fortress?"
In their memories, the fortress walls were a mess of cracks, crumbling stone, and creeping moss. But the walls before them were a marvel of masonry—every stone was perfectly aligned, looking so new they could have been laid yesterday. The sheer height and thickness were far more imposing than anything they remembered.
Hans said nothing, merely gesturing for the group to move forward. As they neared the gate, a heavy sense of oppression settled over them. Standing at the entrance were two skeletons clad in heavy, full-plate armor, leaning on massive greatswords like statues.
The caravan stopped. One of the skeletal sentries extended its blade, barring the path. The other spoke.
"Entry fee. Ten copper per person."
Another fee?!
Hans's eyelid twitched. He looked at the massive sword that could likely cleave his carriage in half like a dry twig and wisely chose silence. He counted out a hundred coppers from his pouch and handed them over with trembling fingers. The guards behind him let out a collective sigh of relief. Thank the Gods, he didn't try any 'clever' tricks this time.
The skeletal sentry accepted the coin and pulled a stack of palm-sized bone plates from its belt.
"Identity Proof. Drip blood. Record your Od-signature."
"Valid for one week. Failure to renew or loss of ID within the city will result in classification as an 'Intruder Unit' and summary expulsion."
Again with this procedure.
Hans and his guards practiced the routine, pricking their fingers and letting the blood sink into the white bone. A faint red light pulsed, and the plates took on a smooth, warm texture.
"Enter."
The sentry withdrew its blade. Hans urged the horses forward, entering the city with a sense of grim resignation.
And then, he froze. They all did.
Clean.
It was too clean.
The wide thoroughfares were paved with the same dark stone, polished well enough to see one's reflection. The houses lining the streets had been freshly repainted; broken windows and doors had been replaced with brand-new timber and glass. The entire city felt grand, orderly, and solemn.
The only... "problem" was that the people walking the streets weren't people at all.
Squads of Skeleton Soldiers marched in perfect synchronization, the rhythmic click-clack of bone against stone serving as the city's only ambient noise. A few Ghouls with grey skin and bared fangs were using precision tools to repair the finer details of a building, their movements meticulous and unwavering.
Hans didn't feel like he had entered Iron Fortress. He felt like he had stepped into the capital of a Demon King from a bard's tale.
One guard's legs went weak, nearly tumbling from the wagon. "Boss... we... shouldn't we leave? Right now?"
"Leave?" Hans's voice was airy, almost trance-like.
His eyes were locked onto a scene just a few yards away. An elderly human villager was standing with his hands on his hips, shouting at a skeleton until spit flew.
"I told you! You can't pay for vegetables with rocks! Tell me, what kind of stupid rock buys a whole chicken?!"
The skeleton in question was pretending not to hear, staring at the clouds with a tilted skull while a hen struggled in its bony grip. It didn't retaliate. It didn't even argue.
A human... scolding the undead?
Hans's breathing quickened. Fear? No. It wasn't fear. It was the specific, electric excitement of a merchant who had caught the scent of gold.
This place... this is a functioning society with order, rules, and a working population! And the commerce... it's a total vacuum!
Everything was waiting to be built! He was the first—the very first legitimate merchant to bring goods into this new market! The opportunity of a lifetime!
Hans felt his blood beginning to boil. He glanced at his bone ID card. Validity: Seven days.
Fine. He would use these seven days. He would look through every crack and corner of this city. He had to know if this place was worth a gamble—a gamble involving his entire life's fortune.
Day One.
Hans took two guards and wandered aimlessly through the city. They stayed near the main roads, too afraid to venture into the side alleys. They reached the Agricultural Planning Zone in the south. Vast swaths of land had been reclaimed and organized into neat grids. Skeletons worked the fields with stiff but flawless efficiency. A middle-aged man in peasant clothes stood on a ridge, bellowing at them.
"A hoe is for tilling! Not for throwing! You lot are the worst batch of skeletons I've ever trained!"
Hans's guards watched in terror. Hans watched with eyes that shone like lanterns.
Food. The foundation of any city. They have it, and they're mass-producing it.
Day Two.
Curiosity began to overtake his fear. He explored deeper, finding a plot of land cordoned off by a wooden fence with a sign: [Re-education Demonstration Zone]. Inside, a skeletal head poked out of the dirt like a bizarre radish. Hans summoned his courage and walked over.
"Hey, pal," Hans whispered. The skull's eye sockets turned toward him, Soul Fire flickering. "Why'd you get... planted here?"
"I am unauthorized to disclose that information," the skull replied in a flat monotone.
Hans pulled out a particularly shiny stone and waved it. "Talk to me."
The skeleton, seeing the shine, answered instantly. "I jumped out from behind the teacher while he was using the privy last night. Just to see if he'd jump."
Hans imagined the scene and shuddered. "I'll leave the stone by your head. Pick it up when you get out." He hurried away.
Law. There was a law here—crude and violent, perhaps, but absolute. For a merchant, that was a blessing.
Day Three.
Near the Central Plaza, Hans saw a legion on the move. Thousands of Skeleton Mages surrounding a high-tier Lich, marching toward the city gates. Their direction: Jade Territory.
Hans was a merchant; he knew the map. Jade Territory was human-held. What is a necromantic legion doing there? War? Hans felt a spike of worry, but quickly suppressed it.
Day Four.
The cacophony of metal led Hans to the Industrial District. Inside the massive new foundry, heat billowed in waves. Thousands of skeletal apprentices were swinging hammers with manic energy. Sparks flew, and hammers occasionally went airborne. A human blacksmith in a pair of glowing iron briefs was screaming instructions from a high platform.
Looking at the mountains of iron ore and the crates of armor being produced, Hans's heart raced.
Military industry. The core of power. Their productivity is terrifying.
Day Five.
Hans witnessed the scene that finally cemented his resolve. A long line of people was entering Iron Fortress from the direction of Jade Territory. They weren't soldiers. They were civilians. Hundreds of families, faces filled with confusion and a sliver of hope, were entering the City of the Dead.
They were guided by Skeleton Soldiers, queued for registration, and issued bone IDs. Then, they were led to a brand-new residential district.
Housing. Free, brand-new two-story homes.
Hans watched the expression of a family entering their new home—the sheer, sobbing disbelief of it. He finally understood. This wasn't a monster's nest. This was a rising kingdom with terrifying execution, production, and... inclusivity.
Day Six.
In his temporary lodgings, Hans gathered his guards. They looked at each other nervously. Hans stood up, fastidiously straightening his most expensive suit.
"I am going to meet the master of this city."
"I am going to negotiate a deal—a deal that will change our lives forever."
Hans looked out the window at the tireless skeletons building the city. The corners of his mouth curled upward. He could already see the mountain of gold coins beckoning him.
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