Summoning Earth [Hiatus]

Chapter 36: New State of Islamic

November 26, 1639 – Val Fleury city, Esthirant Capital Region, Parpaldia Empire

The train clawed through the shadowed woodlands of western Parpaldia, its iron wheels shrieking like wounded beasts under the strain of coal-fed engines. A relic of the empire's Great War, it spewed acrid smoke that wreathed towering pines and veiled mist-soaked clearings in a choking haze. The air outside was heavy with soot and the damp rot of autumn, a stark contrast to the polished stone and gilded spires of Esthirant's heart.

Inside the diplomatic carriage, thick velvet curtains dulled the rumble, and brass fixtures glinted under flickering lanterns. Remille sat rigid, her face an unreadable mask of imperial resolve as the countryside blurred past—pine forests giving way to the gentle swells of Marl's borderlands. Kaios rested his chin on interlaced fingers, his gaze distant, as if searching for answers in the shadows. Elto, Director of the First Foreign Affairs Department, pored over a notebook, its pages worn from days of relentless revisions.

Silence reigned, not from comfort but necessity. The journey's weight demanded preparation, not words.

On the second day, as the coal smog thinned and rolling hills emerged under a pale sun, the world shifted.

The train groaned through a narrow canyon, emerging into the Urietch Valley—and reality fractured.

Elto lurched forward, his breath catching. "By the gods..."

Black highways stretched in flawless symmetry, wider than any Parpaldian road, their surfaces gleaming like polished obsidian, marked with pulsing white and yellow lines. Strange poles lined the edges, their glass panels drinking sunlight. Steel arches spanned the lanes, bearing signs that flickered with shifting text and vibrant colors, alive without a trace of enchantment.

Remille's lips tightened, her voice low with uneasy awe. "No mana, not a whisper of magic. Yet it all... moves."

Kaios said nothing, his eyes locked on the horizon. Glass and steel towers pierced the sky, cradled by cranes swinging like skeletal giants. Massive screens blazed across the skyline—one flashing a sleek vehicle slicing through a desert, another a blue flame coiling into a corporate sigil.

"It's..." Elto whispered, "a wall of glass, painted with living images."

The truth hung heavy: Earth had claimed this land, reshaping Marl Kingdom in its relentless image.

The train slowed into Urietch's station, a surreal blend of gothic stone arches and luminous panels that shifted as they approached. Ticket gates parted without human touch; maps reformed in cascades of color. The structure pulsed with an alien vitality.

The doors hissed open, releasing a blast of mechanical heat—clean, sterile, devoid of soot's bite. Engines droned distantly, the air sharp with the scent of cooled metal and misted water.

They stepped onto the platform.

A tall figure in pristine white robes awaited, his smile calculated, posture immaculate. "Princess Remille, Prime Minister Kaios, Director Elto," he said in flawless Parpaldian. "Welcome to Urietch. I am Ambassador Khalid al-Faroun, of the United Arab Emirates."

Remille inclined her head, her tone formal but guarded. "We are honored."

Al-Faroun gestured toward the exit. "Come. You'll find this... instructive."

The city swallowed them whole.

Towering screens cast images sharper than any arcane illusion, their colors searing. Vehicles flowed along broad boulevards, guided by invisible laws, never faltering. Workers shouted into glowing rectangles, faces lit by ethereal light. Cranes pivoted with mechanical precision, hoisting steel to heights that mocked Esthirant's tallest spires.