The Military Princess Won’t Fall in Love with a Magic Scientist

Chapter 201. Arrival at the Great Howling Rift

Carlisle ignored the rich, fertile central plains that were worth fighting over and made no move to seize the trade-thriving eastern coastal ports. Instead, like a fool, he had stubbornly fixated on that godforsaken southeastern frontier, a wasteland that produced nothing but magical beasts.

In the past, everyone had assumed that he had been squeezed out by First Prince Dorg and had simply taken the beast tide as an opportunity to train his troops. But now, it seemed there was probably another reason.

Yet judging from Carlisle’s performance over the years, it seemed he still had not obtained the inheritance.

Was it because he lacked the key? Or because his bloodline was not pure enough? Or was there some even more complicated locking mechanism that left him standing helplessly outside the door?

Interesting.

A playful curve tugged at the corner of Logaris’s mouth. This trip to the southeast was likely to be far more interesting than he had imagined.

...

The next day, at Winter City Railway Station.

A gigantic steel beast crouched upon the tracks, belching thick white smoke.

This was one of the Magitech steam trains funded by that group from the auction house back then—the Youth.

Wooooo—!!!

The whistle shrieked.

The enormous wheels began to turn slowly, and the screech of steel grinding against the rail rang out harshly.

Trailing plumes of white smoke, the train looked like a black dragon as it slowly departed Winter City, carrying three thousand monsters armed to the teeth.

The axles of the Magitech train shrieked against the rails with a teeth-grinding noise. That monotonous vibration had already continued for a full day and night.

Inside the luxurious private compartment, Logaris rested his legs on the table and held a Communication Crystal in his hand. Sylvia’s slightly distorted voice came from the other end, and beneath it, he could hear the rustle of documents being turned.

“...According to the Public Security Bureau’s report, three thieves trying to loot amid the chaos in the south of the city were arrested last night and have already been sent to the mines. At the Magitech Academy, Aaron submitted a miniaturization proposal for the engine of the ‘Wyvern Project,’ and the budget request has already been approved...”

Listening to her orderly report, Logaris could not help setting down his coffee cup and raising a brow. “Don’t you have anything else you want to say? Something like, ‘I’m so lonely without you by my side’?”

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the crystal.

Then Sylvia gave a soft laugh, her voice tinged with teasing.

“The kitchen made beef stewed in red wine tonight. Too bad you can’t eat any.”

The communication cut off.

Looking at the dimmed crystal, Logaris pushed up his glasses and clicked his tongue at the air.

Still, that proved one thing: the administrative system he had left behind could continue running like a precision timepiece even without him, the so-called “external brain.” That made being a hands-off ruler very reassuring.

“Professor, we’ve arrived.”

Akash’s muffled voice came from outside the door.

Logaris rose to his feet, adjusted the collar of his trench coat—which did not have a single crease in it—and pulled open the compartment door.

A stench mixed with sulfur, rust, and the reek of rotting, fermenting flesh instantly rushed in with the cold wind.

This was the kingdom’s southeastern frontier, the end of the civilized world—Scream Fortress.

Logaris stepped down onto the platform and lifted his gaze.

The sky was a suffocating grayish yellow, and the clouds hung so low they seemed almost within reach.

At the far end of his vision, the earth looked as if it had been split open by a god’s gigantic axe, leaving behind a savage wound. That purple-black fissure stretched across the horizon, thick black mist roiling from within it. Every so often, horrifying roars drifted up from deep underground, enough to make one’s heart shudder.

The Great Howling Rift.

One of Mad King Maxim’s “masterpieces” from years ago.

Logaris narrowed his eyes. The perception of a Sixth-Tier Mage allowed him to sense that something was off. The energy leaking out of the rift was chaotic and violent, yet deep within it there seemed to be... a faint trace of order that had been forcibly twisted out of shape.

“This is where we’re supposed to stay?” Akash jumped off the train carrying that portable Magitech cannon thicker than his own thigh and said in his booming voice, “The air quality is terrible.”

Behind him, the three thousand soldiers of the new army filed out in orderly succession. They neither shouted nor looked around. They simply formed ranks in silence and checked their equipment. The rows of pitch-black gun barrels and the cold visors covering their faces made the previously noisy platform fall quiet at once.

“Well now, these must be the famous reinforcements from the Northern Territory. I’ve heard so much about you, truly, I have!”

An overly enthusiastic voice broke the silence.

A squad of soldiers in the uniforms of the Second Prince’s faction walked over. At their head was a fat man with a smile plastered all over his face.

A logistics officer’s insignia hung from his chest. The fat on his belly stretched what had once been a fairly respectable uniform until it was taut, and as he hurried forward, even the flesh on his face jiggled.

The fat logistics officer trotted all the way up to Logaris. Before he had even fully steadied himself, he first offered a flawless noble salute, his attitude so respectful that there was not a single fault to pick.

“I am your humble subordinate, Balon, one of the logistics officers here at Scream Fortress. I have long heard that Professor Logaris is a young man of extraordinary talent. Now that I see you today, you truly are a dragon among men! And these three thousand warriors as well—tsk, tsk, just look at their bearing. For bumpkins like us on the frontier, this is a real eye-opener.”

Baron Balon smiled so broadly that his eyes had narrowed into slits. As he showered them with flattery, he handed over a sheet of parchment with both hands.

“You must have had a hard journey, Professor. This is the encampment I arranged overnight for you and your men. Though your army is not large in number, we have still received you according to the highest standard. We would never dare show the slightest neglect.”

Akash took the parchment. After only one glance, the expression beneath his visor darkened instantly.

“District D?” Akash’s voice turned cold and hard. “If I’m reading the map correctly, that’s the lowest depression in the entire fortress. It’s right beside the sewage canal, and it’s downwind too.”

“Oh, sir, you misunderstand.”

The smile on Baron Balon’s face did not fade in the slightest. If anything, it gained an extra trace of helplessness and apology. “It truly is unfortunate. The fighting on the front lines has been intense lately, and the number of wounded has surged. The well-ventilated high ground in Districts A and B has already been cleared out to build temporary field hospitals, and they’re full of His Highness the Second Prince’s personal guards and severely wounded soldiers. District C is stacked full of flammable munitions and military supplies...”

He rubbed his hands together and looked at Logaris with complete sincerity. “Now, District D may be... just a tiny bit damp, but it has the advantage of being quiet, and it’s close to the water source. No one will disturb you there. It’s perfect for an elite force like yours to rest and recover after such a long journey. This is also a reflection of my good intentions, so I hope the Professor can understand our difficulties.”

His words were watertight. He laid out the objective difficulties, then topped it off with the excuse of “it’s for your own good.” It was the classic smile concealing a blade. Soft nails hurt the most when they are stabbed.

Logaris said nothing. He merely looked quietly at the fat man before him, sweating all over and smiling like a Buddha statue.

This was no lodging arrangement. It was clearly a show of force from the Second Prince.

If they were driven to live beside a cesspit the moment they arrived, where would the Northern Legion’s dignity go? Before these three thousand men ever reached the battlefield, half their morale would already collapse.

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