Day 81st, Year of 7:

I have gravely underestimated the power of the old general, causing me to lose three of the five rage soldier prototypes. An unexpected setback indeed – it might have been a better move to have tested a prototype in single combat with the prisoner. Of course, that would have given General Schild enough time and momentum to inflict considerable damage to my resources and escape. It is a relief that the toxin used to subdue him was not strong enough to kill the man – something that was not possible had it been fired on a common beast of this plane. General Schild's ability to resist and mitigate the effects of poisons is a feat on its own. His power is something I have always wanted to acquire, but I must have to resort to other methods to gain a much weaker level of it. While it may be impossible to achieve what the general has, there is always a correct method to make such power work for me.

He would make the perfect rage soldier – the mythical berserker, put into a more practical realization. Such strength, resilience and combat prowess all endowed in a single warrior simply cannot be gone to waste. His power under my guidance shall pave the way to the realization of ideals. All that I need to do is to harness and course it to where it is needed the most.

The means to bring him considerably more open to my control apparatus was costly – I would have never achieved to disable him by simply overwhelming him with my men, or even with Doctor Hollengrehn's constructs. And to think that the rage soldiers that were meant to tire him out and bring him to the verge of death barely succeeded in doing so. I have achieved the desired result nevertheless, with the general very close to becoming my best sword and shield to date. Him, and the monster I've captured will be my vital assets in my quest. Attempts to bring them earlier in my plans are indeed a priority; their success will definitely speed up and ensure that the next steps of my plan won't encounter any future hindrances.

††

Luminberg shone against the morning sun; its towers and spires glowed red when sunlight hit them. This was one city that resembled a bed of spikes from a distance, at least from how Trevalyn Faricy saw it. It was a city of towers; several of them crafted out of cut stone or specially-shaped clay. It was fashioned according to the beliefs of a bygone era – that when magical energies could be harvested in the air through a series of crystalline spikes. It gave its denizens a reserve of magical energy to tap onto when needed. Times changed, and crystal was no longer a sought after part to build houses in Luminberg, yet the design remained as a standard.

He heard the long, low whistle of the train that would bring him closer to the city. Smoke formed in broken white wisps past the windows as the view began shifting from an angle to another. A bus was being wheeled to his direction; its attendant carting off slices of roasted fowl to be distributed amongst the other passengers. Pepper, basil and other herbs the crime lord did not care to know attempted to tickle his nose. He didn't have the interest at first, until hunger decided and led to Trevalyn staring down at a platter of the course. A gloved hand guided a silver ladle to pour a darkish brown sauce over the meat.

Trevalyn stared at his left arm, grasping at its skin with his right hand. This was the first time a mechanical arm felt almost like a real part of his body; it managed to grip on the fork right after he thought of closing it. Amazing, he told himself, but then there was that twitch that slightly shook his hold on his own skin.

"A little off on the timing, but still impressive. This is indeed one of Hollengrehn's finer works... there are so many things this false arm can do."

He separated a chunk from the rest and took a taste. Good, as was expected of the service – he tasted better courses though. He took his time to slice other pieces of meat from the rest of the steak. A mustached man in red uniform appeared at the end of the hall to announce:

"We will be arriving at Luminberg shortly. Please double-check all your belongings before leaving the train. Thank you."

It was enough time for him to finish his meal; he was yet to see the outline of the train station up ahead. Trevalyn saw the city's western gate; it was either Luminberg did not find the need to deploy more guards there, or their payroll could not afford more people to watch over. He could see the smoothness of the wooden door from where he was – a sign that it had been standing there for the longest time without the need to replace it. Iron braces that were layered over the door stood out against the faded red stones of the walls. A reminder of the past, Trevalyn thought. Those times when fortified cities had to be erected to keep human settlements safe from the rampaging monsters scattered across the plane. They could have been torn down to take advantage of the surrounding lands, expand Luminberg into a metropolis that Blaurosen would pale in comparison, but perhaps the administrators preferred to keep the city's antiquated appeal. Trevalyn found either reason as a weak excuse for not taking advantage to expand the city.

"I have to admit, them keeping the city's old looks will ultimately benefit me."

He noticed the train slowing down on its entry to the city; he could see the four-striped banners of Luminberg flying alongside the Imperial Seal. One final blow of steam marked the end of his journey. Trevalyn could have used the transport discs to get to his Luminberg branch immediately, but he figured that traveling the countryside would be better for his eyes. Being able to see the city's layout in broad daylight also served its advantages – Winston Norton needed fewer explanations on how everything will be carried out once all preparations on the city were done.

A man in a black suit and a fedora nodded at the Gray Fox. Trevalyn approached him; he did not need to think twice who this man was (or who sent him to meet with the crime lord).

"Your coach is waiting for you outside. Master Norton is on the Second Tower."

Trevalyn nodded and let the man guide him outside of the waiting platforms. He was led to a gray automobile; the scent of lemons crawled out of the interior when the door to the passenger seat was opened.

"This smells like a hotel bathroom. Did you choose the perfume to use here?"

"My apologies, Master. This vehicle has smelled this way when it was taken out of the garage."

"I will have a word with Mister Norton once we get there. Make it quick." Trevalyn opened a window and let the wind fill the interior. "This... 'fruity' scent is getting on my nerves."

Luminberg's roads had the reputation of having too few signs aside from the recent traffic markers installed by the current rule. There weren't many minor roads in this city, as everyone who lived in Luminberg had to be called upon to combat the threats from outside. Such rigid arrangements had to be done for the army to be easily rallied. It was deemed to not make the city more complex than it should be – things were easily tracked due to each house was numbered after its block, and the blocks had their own names and designations. The roads and avenues were named after the heroes of the First Empire, past city leaders and, the wizards who fought alongside the heroes during the Age of Monsters. Each block had four spires, and these in turn were shared by three to five houses each. There was little room for the city to have individual houses under vast tracts of land, hence only the dwellings of the most important figures in the city had the privilege to have their houses resting on their own lots.

They arrived at the Wizards' Wall's Second Tower in less than half an hour. Inside the gray stone structure was an empty interior, save for a spiraled staircase that led to the tower's second level. He noticed that this used to not have any safeguards – one slip would send you back to the entrance door. The metal rails that were connected to the staircase were recently installed. Trevalyn held on to them until he reached the tower's second level. There was a man with his back facing the crime lord; Trevalyn didn't need to see his face to know who this person was.

"Early as ever, Mister Norton." Trevalyn surveyed the room; there were a few workers dismantling what seemed to be old tubes mounted on the walls. "How's the construction going?"

"Ah, Mas- excuse me, Mister Faricy." Winston managed to notice the crime lord and then faced him. "We have removed the old machines that were connected to the Wizards' Wall. We are installing the new equipment as scheduled. The magister asked us to surrender all of the old machinery we will be replacing. Junk they are in my eyes; I'm not in any position to ask our clients about it."

"They can keep the machines, but were you able to convince them that the old cores are still 'needed' for this project?"

"I was able to get their consent about that. After all, I assumed that Hollengrehn copied the old machines' workings. I did give them a demonstration of how we will install the cores to make the Wall work again."

"Excellent. What of the added components?"

"We were able to set them up..." Winston took out a key and inserted it at a hidden keyhole at the lower right side of the machine's base. "...here. The inspectors were not too keen on checking this part of our machinery. We should be able to 'service' these when everything is on schedule"

"Good. We still have ample time to finish the job before Victory Day. I expect all other preparations for it are in place, at least more than halfway."

"Of course, Mister Faricy. We can discuss this in detail later."

Winston pointed the way outside, and his superior quickly understood what he meant. Both men left the tower and got inside the awaiting vehicle. Strong, short chugging brought the engine to life as the driver started to take them away from the Wizards' Wall's area. Winston slanted his back and stretched his legs; his feet were on an incline that connected the driver's seat from the rest of the chassis when he said:

"From what Doctor Hollengrehn told me, the wall used to have a locking mechanism that sealed the gates from outside with the same mana field. I assess that gaining control of this will allow us more time to collect your mana stores with little worry from outside interference. We can commit our men and weapons in warding off Luminberg's defenders from inside – should there be any considerable number of them still standing after the initial shock."

"Very good findings, Mister Norton. Has the city administrators been aware of this?"

"I highly doubt that they are except for possibly, the Magister himself." Winston pulled down a handle from the driver's seat, revealing a small compartment with a metal flask inside. He unscrewed the lid and took a drink of its contents. "Any relief force sent by Blaurosen or any nearby town or city should be kept out of Luminberg until they could figure out how to disperse the mana, if ever."

"One man. He should not pose a challenge to deal with, or dispose of when needed." Trevalyn stared at the darkly red silhouette of the Fourth Tower. His men had not gained access to it yet, based on the absence of signage and the scaffolding seen on the First and Second Towers. "The next shipment of metal for the construction of machinery for the Fifth, Sixth and Seventh towers are going to be slightly delayed. One of the ships carrying raw material from the South could not leave port due to a storm passing the area."

"How much time will be lost to us?"

"A week, as promised by the shipping company." Trevalyn shook his head, staring upwards to the sky. His voice tried to be uniform, yet annoyance piped out of his throat.

"We can commit to a hundred men and twelve constructs per tower."

"That, yes. Hollengrehn's assembly lines are on it round the clock. Leave that to me."

They passed by the imposing facade of the famed Academy; a large cone with a skyward needle. Its sharpness was visible even from the distance their automobile was cruising on. It was not a closed compound, but instead was flanked by lower buildings that formed a crescent when viewed from above. There were more students who took an interest in studying there than were fifteen, or probably twenty years ago. Each of these youths strolling, frolicking and sitting on its grounds aspiring to be masters of mystical studies; the arcane slowly losing its secrecy. He was once like them, but on a different field. Even that love for knowledge could not divert him from old ideals. Curiosity and wonder were seen from their eyes; traits that Trevalyn knew so well from that lifetime he discarded.

"I never saw the Academy having this much students."

"I wouldn't know, Master." Winston lifted the flask to his lips; liquid passed on to his lips and was sent down his throat. "Luminberg is quite an old, yet endearing city."

"Yes, and this place shall serve as our springboard, that important stepping stone in what we have been working on for the longest time."