Five years. A half-decade since the kingdom had sought to erase me in a desolate graveyard. Now, that graveyard was the heart of a nation, and it was time for its leader to survey his domain. The Grand Tour was not a matter of pomp, but of necessity. I needed to see the reality of the nation I was managing through the cold, clean data of the System. I needed to walk the roads we had built, to breathe the air of our cities, to look into the eyes of the people whose lives had been irrevocably changed.
The tour began in Oakhaven City, my capital. It was home to just over twelve thousand souls, a metropolis born from the dust. The original settlement was a barely recognizable historical curiosity, a knot of old mud-brick hovels now serving as a museum, dwarfed by the grand stone edifices of the new city. The Great Aqueduct, our first monumental project, now looked like a natural part of the landscape, its arches marching confidently across the valley, its water feeding a network of fountains and public baths.
The Lyceum campus covered more ground than the entire original city, its lecture halls and workshops filled with a new generation learning everything from metallurgy to legal theory. Children who had been born into a world of scarcity now debated philosophy and engineering, their minds sharp and hungry. The System's GOVERNANCE interface, once a simple list of names, was now a dizzying tableau of real-time data: Population: 12,158. Economic Output: +4500 Crowns/week. Public Morale: 92% (Stable). It was a city humming with life and purpose.
My journey continued west on the Iron Road. The 90-league stretch of paved stone to Ironpeak was a marvel of our new age. What had been a grueling fifteen-day journey for our first scouting party was now a comfortable four-day trip for my wagon. Along the way, we passed two fortified waystations, small, self-sufficient towns that had sprung up around the road. Each was complete with deep wells, barracks for the Iron Guard who patrolled the road, a bustling inn, and a blacksmith's shop for wagon repairs. The desert between our cities was no longer wilderness; it was territory, tamed and managed by the will of the Confederacy.
Ironpeak itself was a city transformed. The once-grim camp of soot-stained hovels was now a fortified mountain citadel of ten thousand people—miners, smiths, and their families. The wealth from our trade had allowed Grak to build with a ferocity that matched his personality. Great stone barracks climbed the mountainside, a grand feasting hall that could seat a thousand overlooked a valley, and the Great Forge, now a sprawling complex of steam-powered hammers and furnaces, belched a constant, proud column of smoke into the sky. It was the industrial heart of our nation.
Grak, his beard now streaked with grey but his eyes burning with the same fierce energy, met me not as a subordinate, but as a partner. He was no longer a simple chieftain; he was an industrial magnate. He led me through the roaring, deafening symphony of his forges, his voice a booming counterpoint to the clang of the hammers.
"We produced two hundred tons of steel last year, Lord Protector," Grak boomed, showing me the endless stacks of ingots that filled a massive warehouse. "More than the Royal Forges themselves. Your steam engines and our mountain's heart have made us strong." He clapped a hand on the massive housing of a steam-powered pump, a machine built in Oakhaven and assembled here. "You gave us the plans. We gave you the iron. Together, we make thunder." He was no longer just an ally; he was a fellow industrialist, a vital organ in our nation's body.
The first part of my tour was complete. I had seen the core of our nation, the twin pillars of agriculture and industry, and they were stronger than I had ever imagined. The System had shown me the numbers, but seeing the proud faces of the Lyceum students and the calloused, capable hands of Grak's smiths gave the data a soul. Our kingdom of sand and stone was real. It was thriving. And now, I would turn south, to visit the shield of our nation, the nomadic soul of the Ashen tribe, to see for myself the frontier we had forged.