Above The Sky
Chapter 710 - 710 1 First Visit to South Ridge The Fief is in Rebellion 5500_2

710: Chapter 1 First Visit to South Ridge, The Fief is in Rebellion (5500)_2 710: Chapter 1 First Visit to South Ridge, The Fief is in Rebellion (5500)_2 The Setar Empire was not a primitive medieval empire; it was a strong industrial nation with a well-developed industrial system.

The Empire’s nobility system might seem archaic, but it was not merely a simple feudal system.

Consisting of an emperor, nobles, knights, and commoners, plus the Sublimator system, this structure was indestructible and unwaveringly loyal.

When Axel proposed a policy, those below would carry it out.

No one dared to defy the will of the Fifth Energy Level, nor was anyone foolish enough to play word games and be deceitful when facing a direct order from the emperor.

Yet this Guardian hesitated to kill him, restrained by some “rules” and “order”.

This member of the Empire’s Royal Family was the inheritor of the Sunbird legacy; he could span the width of the Empire in a mere second.

“General education might encounter problems, but if the instruction is in a craft, everyone welcomes it,”

Seeing the thriving scene in the workshop district, Ian nodded slightly, “Reform must be tailored to local conditions.

Higher education cannot be rushed.”

Simple transport carts in the streets were piled with large barrels or boxes of raw materials, along with products wrapped very tightly.

Ordinary people might not notice anything amiss, but Ian could see through those covers to the items within.

They were weapons and ammunition.

Loads and loads of diverse weapons and ammunition.

Armored Clothing, swords, parts for ordinary gunpowder firearms, bullets of various calibers, and some alchemical powder and Alchemical Cannon cannonballs.

Ian even saw a batch of Alchemy Furnace Core igniters—armored vehicles clad in heavy Outer Armor, along with a small squad of escort Knights, delivering this batch of strategic materials worth at least twenty thousand Talle into an ironclad ship with a lead-gray hull.

This was the current overarching policy of South Ridge: all aspects of production were giving way to the military industry, and it was not apparent from here.

At least it was not possible to discern the current living situation of ordinary people.

After roughly estimating the port’s throughput, Ian made his way to a pastry shop where he had previously purchased specialties.

Upon entering, he asked, “Boss, do you still have Light Breeze Baked Cakes?”

The Light Breeze Baked Cake was a local specialty, resembling two saucers pressed together, similar to the earth-dorayaki of his previous world.

The pastry, made with honey and eggs, had a golden, crispy exterior with a sweet taste.

Each shop, according to its own craftsmanship, would add various nuts, sesame seeds, or raisins to the filling.

Some shops, instead of making sweet versions, would fill them with fresh meat or shrimp, producing a rich savory taste that permeated the entire cake.

During his previous travels, Ian had quite liked this specialty: biting into it gave a crisp sensation, the sweetness was refreshing and the flavor delicate, melting on contact; the savory meat filling was chewy, and the juice and fat from the meat spread satisfyingly in the mouth.

Whether it was sweet or savory, Ian loved both, unlike the local Nauman people who would fight over their preferences, labelling each other heretics for differing tastes.

Unfortunately, this was not a good time for him to visit.

The clerk, seeing Ian’s alchemist robe and his fair face that seemed like it belonged in an Alchemy Laboratory, bowed respectfully, “Sir, the price might be a bit more expensive than before.”

Glancing at the price list in front of the counter, Ian saw that the sweet Light Breeze Baked Cakes, previously priced at two penny copper each, now had doubled in price to four.

On the other hand, those with meat or shrimp filling, previously three penny, were now individually priced at five penny and two for nine penny.

“Give me two with the meat filling,” Ian said without saying much more.

This cake shop also sold candy, but all the jars on the shelves were empty, even the South Ridge specialty Suanjiang Sugar Pills—a kind of refreshing sour and sweet candy similar to mint candy—were gone.

He pointed to the candy jars and asked with a subtly accusatory tone, “What, all sold out?”

“No, we have no raw materials left,” the clerk, who was retrieving a warm cake from the oven for Ian, immediately bowed his head, “You must be from out of town, right?

The sugarcane and beet plantations of South Ridge were attacked by spies from the Fiery Flame Land…

To tell the truth, even the price of flour has risen quite a bit, and it’s tough to keep the shop running…”

His tone carried a grinding resentment, a deep-seated anger that could not be concealed.

“I see,” Ian noted the clerk spoke articulately, like someone who was educated, and he asked a few more questions, only to find out that the clerk was actually the shop owner.

The original shop owner, his father, had passed away last month, and this son who had been studying in Nauman City had returned home to take over the family shop.

“My father was very healthy before, how could he suddenly fall ill and die?”

The tone of the young shop owner carried a deep sadness and bitterness when he spoke; he was convinced that his father’s sudden illness and death were definitely connected to the Fiery Flame Land’s plague tactics.

Seeing the shop owner’s demeanor, Ian felt that if he were to come across someone from the Fiery Flame Land, he would probably mince them finely and stuff them into the cakes.

Because Ian looked so respectable and spoke a few comforting words in passing, appearing quite amiable, the shop owner opened up.

All the grains and economic crops in South Ridge had been hit, and although the Governor’s Mansion had quickly taken measures with the appropriate sprays to eradicate the pests and diseases, this year’s grain yield was only forty percent of the usual amount.

It was only thanks to the continuous stream of grain support from the Central Plains, and the Governor’s Mansion’s early preparations for stockpiling grain, that a major famine was averted this year in South Ridge; otherwise, countless people would have starved to death.