The Villainess's Reputation [Kingdom Building]

Blacksmith Workshop, Kim City, Kim Island, Ancorna Empire

The rhythmic clang of hammers on steel filled the cavernous workshop as Ravenna stepped inside, the scent of burning coal and hot metal thick in the air. Nille, his leather apron streaked with soot and his muscular arms glistening with sweat, hurried forward to greet her. Behind him, a team of apprentices scrambled to organize their work tables, their faces alight with nervous excitement at her visit.

"Your Highness," Nille said with a quick bow, wiping his hands on a rag before gesturing toward a large workbench. "This is the prototype we've been working on through the night."

Resting atop the bench was a meticulously crafted miniature hot air balloon, its envelope made of tightly stitched silk reinforced with thin strands of enchanted wire. The basket beneath was no larger than a breadbox, but the craftsmanship was impeccable, every joint seamless, every stitch precise.

Ravenna circled the prototype, her fingers trailing along the edge of the workbench as she examined it. "You mentioned fuel consumption issues in your report," she said, her voice measured. "Were you able to resolve them?"

Nille rubbed the back of his neck, leaving a faint smudge of ash. "Not entirely, no. Timing the descent purely through fuel burn proved too inconsistent, too many variables in wind and temperature. So we… improvised."

He motioned to one of his apprentices, who stepped forward with a small wooden box. Inside lay a delicate fillet flower, its petals engraved with intricate runes. "We integrated a failsafe," Nille explained. "Magnolia and camellia blossoms woven into the envelope's lining—" He plucked the fillet flower from the box. "—to trigger a condensed air spell remotely. When activated, it extinguishes the flame instantly, allowing for a controlled drop."

Ravenna arched her brow. "Clever. Does it work?"

Nille grinned. "See for yourself."

With a sharp whistle, he signaled his team into action. Apprentices rushed to clear a space in the workshop's open yard, while others carefully carried the prototype outside. The small balloon was anchored to a weighted frame, its fuel box, a tiny crucible filled with black tar, already prepared. One of the workers struck a flint, and with a whoosh, the flame caught.

The balloon shuddered, then, with a slow, graceful lift, began to rise. Alice, standing at Ravenna's side, let out a soft gasp. "It's flying!"

Nille nodded, his eyes tracking its ascent. "We've also added counterweights to steer its path, crude, but effective for now." True to his word, the balloon drifted steadily toward a painted target in the field, its trajectory unwavering.

Once it reached the desired position, Nille handed the fillet flower to Ravenna. She turned it between her fingers, feeling the faint hum of magic in its engravings, then tore one of the petals.

A sharp crack of displaced air echoed as the spell activated. The flame snuffed out in an instant, and the balloon's ascent halted. For a breathless moment, it hung suspended, then dropped like a stone, landing with a solid thud directly atop the target.

A cheer erupted from the gathered workers. Sarah, who had been watching with her arms crossed, clapped her hands together. "It works!"

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Nille wiped his brow, relief evident in his stance. "We'll begin constructing the full-scale versions immediately. The steam-powered loom in the east factory can mass-produce the envelopes, and with the mechanical smiths working throughout the day, we should have at least more than two dozen operational by tomorrow's end."

Ravenna's gaze lingered on the fallen prototype, her mind already calculating. "Good. The larger models will carry iron ballast—enough to punch through ship decks. If we deploy many of them at the right moment, we can cripple their fleet before they even reach the harbor."

Nille's grin turned fierce. "Consider it done, Your Highness."

Ravenna's gaze swept across the workshop before settling back on him. "And the steam engines for the unmanned ships? What progress has been made there?"

Nille wiped his hands on his leather apron, leaving fresh smudges on the already well-worn material. "The engine factory has been operating non-stop since yesterday," he reported, motioning toward the far end of the workshop where the rhythmic pounding of pistons and the hiss of steam filled the air. "We've been retrofitting every available boat we could commandeer, fishing vessels, cargo barges, even old pleasure skiffs. If it floats, we're strapping an engine to it."

He grabbed a nearby report, its edges smudged with charcoal fingerprints, and scanned the hastily scribbled numbers. "We've bypassed most safety protocols to speed up production," he admitted, his voice carrying no apology. "As long as the engines hold together long enough to reach their target, we're calling it a success. Without those checks, the work goes faster, we've managed to outfit nearly two hundred ships through the night alone."

Ravenna arched an eyebrow. "Two hundred already?" A rare flicker of approval crossed her features. "Good. When the enemy fleet is in range, we'll launch every last one at full speed."

She turned toward the doorway, her coat swirling behind her, but paused to glance back. "Don't stop production. Keep building until the invasion arrives. Every extra ship we can send their way is another advantage."

Nille bowed deeply, his calloused hands clenched at his sides. Behind him, the workshop roared back to life, apprentices scrambled to carry out orders, hammers resumed their relentless chorus, and the great steam presses hissed like awakened beasts.

As Ravenna strode away with Alice and Sarah flanking her, the weight of the coming battle settled over the workshop like a storm cloud. But in the face of that darkness, Nille and his crew worked on their resolve as unyielding as the steel they forged.

15 minutes later at Ravenna's office, Lord's Castle, Kim City

The heavy oak doors of Ravenna's study groaned as they swung shut behind her, sealing the chamber in muted silence. The scent of parchment and ink mingled. The morning light streaming through the glass windows painted the room in fractured hues of crimson and gold, casting long shadows across the strategic maps spread over the massive table.

Hughes, her Knight-Captain, stood rigid at attention, his gauntleted hands clasped behind his back. The silvered steel of his breastplate bore fresh scratches, evidence of recent drills. At his side, John, Vice-Captain, leaned slightly against the table, his fingers drumming an impatient rhythm on its surface. Aurora occupied the seat nearest the window, her posture relaxed but her sharp eyes missing nothing. Across from her, David, her knight captain, fidgeted with the hilt of his sword, his youth betraying his nerves.

Emma, Aurora's sharp-eyed advisor, had already claimed the chair closest to the largest map, her pen poised over a half-filled ledger. Beside her, Ben, Aurora's Chief Advisor, stroked his beard thoughtfully, his keen mind undoubtedly already thinking something.

Ravenna took her place at the head of the table, her fingers tracing the carved edges of the table as she surveyed her assembly. The weight of their collective gaze settled upon her.

"Let's begin" she began, her voice cutting through the quiet like tempered steel, "it's illogical to think that the invasion force will strike from a single front." She reached for a marker and dragged it across the map, its tip scraping against the parchment. "Their numbers will divide just like the pirate attack, along the western beach, at the eastern beach, and at the southern port." Each location was marked with deliberate precision, the markers clacking against the wood like the ticking of a clock counting down to battle.