Republic City of Otto, Southern Islands, in the Luminous Seas, off the Coast of Hilde Kingdom, Eastern Continent
Republic City of Otto, once a vibrant trade nexus on the Southern Islands, was now enveloped in a pervasive atmosphere of controlled tension. The sweeping, forced population shift resulting from the Treaty of Red Encirclent was still underway around the harbor, but the overt protests had subsided from the past few days, settling into a low hum of weary distress and argunt.
Amidst the slow, chilling wind, an old man, bundled in a rough coat fashioned from goblin hide, observed the scene. He spoke in heavily accented Ancornan to a young man in his early twenties wearing similar, functional clothing.
“Are you really immigrating to Kim Dukedom?” the old man asked, his voice rough.
“I am,” the young man replied, watching the militia guards efficiently moving citizens and setting boundaries around the newly annexed border. “My father and mother both were from Ancorna originally before I beca a slave here.”.
“So it's like returning to your holand?” the old man inquired, tilting his head.
“Not really. I lived my whole life here in Otto City and occasionally in Bolita,” the young man corrected, taking a deep breath as the cold air whipped around his face. “Ever since I earned my freedom, it has been extraordinarily difficult to find stable work here, and I have a little brother to take care of.”
“You think it’s better to move to Kim City than stay here?” The old man challenged.
The young man nodded firmly, outlining the undeniable practical logic. “They are providing imdiate housing, a guaranteed salary, and full health facilities for those forr slaves willing to move. Considering the rampant unemploynt and rising costs here in Otto, it’s the most ideal option for us right now.”
“Nothing ever cos free, young man,” the old man insisted, fixing his gaze on him. He gestured toward the newly erected counters where residents were signing up to beco Kim Dukedom citizens. “Why are they taking in those deed worthless by this city? There must be a hidden motive…”
“Kim Dukedom’s population is relatively small, but they have enormous labor needs to sustain their industrial growth and expansion, given the harsh atmosphere there,” the young man countered with growing impatience. “And since slave trade is banned in Ancorna, recruiting free workers is the only way to et that demand. It totally makes sense.”
The old man, however, remained skeptical. “Even so, why would they provide free housing and a generous salary? A suspicious enough offer, but those added healthcare and education benefits are beyond generous.”
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The young man finally stood as his number was called from the counter, his resolve unshaken. “They have vast stretches of land and need people for it to function and thrive. They need us more than we need this city right now. It makes perfect economic sense, old man. Don't try to convince otherwise.” He began walking toward the counter, eager to claim his family’s new future under the formidable rule of Ravenna Solarius.
“Rafael!” The old man's rough hand shot out, catching the young man’s arm and halting his determined stride.
“What?!” Rafael replied, spinning around with a visible flash of rage and annoyance at the unexpected delay. Ti was currency, and at that mont, his future stood at the counter.
“I am not trying to stop you,” the old man insisted, his voice softening, acknowledging Rafael’s urgency. “Just… Try to find Nille Vern in Kim City and tell him you are a friend of mine if you are ever in trouble.”
Rafael’s sharp annoyance faded into genuine confusion. “Nille Vern? Who is that?”
The old man’s eyes took on a distant, thoughtful look. “Just an old colleague of mine. He was truly a genius blacksmith before he migrated to what was then called Jola, moving along with the original waves of Herptian Priests.” He paused, allowing the mory to settle. “Last I heard, he was recognized for his skill by Her Highness Ravenna and is currently in a very good and influential position within the Dukedom. So he might be able to help you out if you ever find yourself in any trouble that your new citizenship cannot solve.”
Rafael paused, letting the unexpected piece of intelligence sink in. A potential lifeline, a na to drop if political walls proved too high. He nodded slowly. “I will certainly keep that in mind, old man. Thank you for the warning.”
“Are you going to register or not? We don’t have all day!” The impatient voice of the clerk at the citizenship counter cut through the conversation, demanding compliance.
“I am coming!” Rafael rushed toward the counter, performing a quick, grateful nod to the old man just before plunging into the official process that would irrevocably alter his family's destiny.
Rafael finished the final flourish of his signature on the citizenship docunt, relief washing over him as he completed the official process that pledged his family’s future to the formidable Duchess of Kim. He gathered the stamped papers, turning back toward the docks where the older man had given him the strange advice about Nille Vern.
But the scene had utterly transford. The chaotic, disheartened murmur of the displaced citizens was abruptly silenced. Every head at the harbor, from the weary clerks to the hardened militia guards, snapped toward the sea.
On the horizon, cutting through the vast cerulean water, a fleet of few odd steam-powered ships was arriving. They weren't the standard rchant vessels Otto was accustod to; they were sleeker, faster, and moving with the disciplined purpose of a battle formation. Black smoke billowed from their newly installed stacks, their powerful engines driving them forward without relying on the sail mages who normally propelled such a massive convoy.
The arrival of a Kim Dukedom fleet of this size, fully retrofitted, imdiately after the annexation announcent was an overwhelming declaration of power.
Rafael stared, the papers clutched tight in his hand. He hadn't just joined an eccentric Duke's labor force; he had placed his family under the protection of a burgeoning industrial superpower. The steam-fitted ships glided into the newly claid port area, their presence a silent, undeniable promise to every citizen watching: Kim City had arrived, and it was ready to defend its new borders.
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