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                                        Chapter 80: After Meeting
                                
                                                                                        
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                                        Chapter 82: Blast Furnace
                                
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... ed in the faint draft, their embroidered sigils catching the pale light—the last remnants of the previous night's revelry. The air hung heavy with the ghost of wine and burnt incense, a fading echo of splendor. But the king who had presided over it all was no longer there to claim his glory.
Arthur Tesla sat alone at his study table, sleeves rolled up, fingers stained with ink. Gone was the ceremonial attire—replaced by a plain linen tunic and a furrowed brow. His eyes were fixed on the ...
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