Reborn as a Hated Noble Family, We Start an Industrial Revolution

​Morning at the Crescent Moon Market arrived with the savory aroma of roasting meat and the boisterous clamor of haggling that had been breaking the silence since dawn.

​Rhea Sudrath sat at a corner table in the inn, cradling Ana. The infant was preoccupied with tugging at the edge of her mother’s shirt with plump, tiny fingers. The baby understood nothing of the world’s complexities—to her, the fabric was soft, her mother’s embrace was warm, and that was enough. Across the table, Arvid sipped his steaming herbal tea with his eyes half-closed. The long journey from Iron Hearth had clearly left a lingering ache in his back.

​”Did you sleep well?” Rhea asked. Her voice was flat, but there was a razor-thin edge of concern buried within.

​”Decently. At least Ana wasn’t fussy last night,” Arvid replied, massaging his stiff neck. Crack.

​”She’s starting to sleep through the night now.”

​Arvid nodded and took another sip of his tea. Their conversations were always like this—brief, efficient, devoid of flowery language. Yet, there was a deep-seated comfort in it. Like two people who had shared the same breath for so long that words were no longer needed to fill the silence.

​Sera, the innkeeper—a Beast-Kin woman with fox ears that were beginning to silver at the tips—emerged from the kitchen. She carried a plate of warm flatbread and a jar of deep-red forest berry jam. The name of the inn, The Rusty Fox, suited its owner perfectly: aged and perhaps a bit creaky in the joints, but her eyes still held a sharp, watchful agility.

​”You folk from the north, aren’t you?” Sera asked as she set the plate down with a soft clink. Her amber eyes narrowed with curiosity. ”Rare to see humans bring a babe this far just for a stroll.”

​”We just wanted to see something other than factory smoke,” Arvid replied politely, offering a thin smile.

​Sera chuckled, her fox ears twitching. ”In that case, you must head to the Gora Springs. Half a day’s trek west. The water is warm, bubbling straight from the mountain’s belly. They say it can cure the most stubborn aches in a man’s back.” She glanced at Arvid, who was still rubbing his shoulder. ”Perfect for a couple.”

​Rhea didn’t react; her face remained as cold as ice. But Arvid caught something—a microscopic shift in his wife’s eyes. It lasted only a fraction of a second, like a flash of lightning before it vanished.

​”Gora Springs?” Arvid repeated. ”The mineral content there must be unique.”

​”Lord, are you a tourist or a professor?” Sera laughed heartily.

​”Perhaps a bit of both.”

​After breakfast, they went their separate ways.

​Arvid decided to explore the market, hunting for old books or Beast-Kin artifacts. ”Who knows, I might find some overlooked fragments of Khanate history,” he said, his eyes alight with the undying enthusiasm of a scholar.

​Rhea didn’t stop him. She simply offered a curt reminder: ”Don’t get lost.”

​”Of course not.”

​Arvid stepped out with a light gait—the stride of a man finally laying down the burden of work after months of strain. Rhea watched her husband’s back until he disappeared behind the wooden door, then looked down at Ana.

​”Do you see that?” she whispered to the baby. ”Your father has finally stopped talking about state documents.”

​Ana only responded with nonsensical babble and a tiny giggle while yanking on Rhea’s thumb.

​On the other side of the market, Ren and Mira were tasked with retrieving their vehicle.

​The Sudrath family’s black SUV was parked in the mount-stable—a sprawling area usually filled with horses or Beast-Kin buffalo. The vehicle looked jarringly out of place, like an alien object fallen from the sky amidst haystacks and wooden carts. A group of Beast-Kin children had swarmed around it, pressing their small hands against the dark tinted glass.

​”Is this a carriage without horses?” whispered a cat-eared child, his eyes perfectly round.

​”Stupid, it’s not a carriage. It’s an iron monster,” his older companion countered.

​”But the monster isn’t snoring. Look, it’s sleeping.”

​Mira emerged from the vehicle’s shadow, making the children jump back in fright. ”It’s not a monster. It’s a machine-powered transport,” she explained briefly.

​The children stared at Mira in awe. ”Can you wake it up, miss?”

​Mira glanced at Ren, who was already in the driver’s seat. ”Just watch.”

​Vroom!

​The SUV’s engine let out a smooth purr. The children shrieked with delight, running around the vehicle as Ren slowly backed it out. Several adults watched from a distance with expressions caught between admiration and suspicion.

​”This is what they call ’technology,’” murmured an old man with crooked horns. ”The Northreach folk always bring the strangest things.”

​By noon, they regrouped at the inn. Arvid returned clutching an old book with a dull leather cover.

​”This is incredible, Rhea! The Oral History of the Plains Tribes. The Beast-Kin almost never write down their history; they preserve it in song. This book is a collection of rare transcripts!” Arvid flaunted the book as if it were a pile of gold.

​”Good,” Rhea replied shortly.

​”Don’t you want to see?”

​”I’ve seen how happy it makes you. That’s enough.”

​Arvid beamed. He had long since learned to translate Rhea’s love language; the fact that his wife listened to his historical ramblings without telling him to shut up was a major victory.

​”We’re leaving now,” Rhea said suddenly, packing the diaper bag.

​”Where? I thought you wanted to nap.”

​”Gora Springs.”

​Arvid blinked, confused. ”You said you wanted to rest.”

​”I have rested. And you said the mineral content was unique, didn’t you? Let’s go.”

​Arvid stared at Rhea. She was already standing, holding Ana with one arm and slinging the bag over the other shoulder. There was no hesitation, no long explanation.

​Oh, Arvid thought, finally realizing. This is an invitation for a date.

​He didn’t say it out loud—he valued his life. He simply smiled, grabbed his book, and followed his wife’s firm steps out.

​The journey west took half a day. The terrain began to shift; the flat grasslands rolled into cool pine-covered hills. The air felt purer, free from the dust of the market and the smell of roasting meat.

​Arvid watched Rhea’s reflection in the SUV’s window. She was focused on driving, but her eyes looked more relaxed than usual.

​”What is it?” Rhea asked without turning.

​”Nothing. Just a nice view.”

​Rhea didn’t answer, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward by a single millimeter. And for Arvid, that was more than enough.

​In the back seat, Ren closed his eyes to recover his stamina, while Mira remained vigilant, her fingers occasionally brushing the hilt of her dagger by reflex. Vacation or not, a protector’s instinct could never truly be switched off.

​Their destination had no official name; locals simply called it ”Spring Town.” White steam billowed from behind rocky hills, marking the location of the hot springs.

​Their inn was called The Slumbering Stag. The owner, an elderly Beast-Kin man with shriveled horns, greeted them enthusiastically.

​”Human guests! One room, the best one?” the old man asked.

​”Yes. One room,” Rhea answered firmly.

​The man glanced at Arvid, then Rhea, then the soundly sleeping Ana. His smile widened. ”Of course. Room number one. It has a large bed and a wicker crib. The view overlooks the pine forest.”

​Rhea paid upfront without haggling for a single coin.

​The room was indeed spectacular. Its large window offered a view of the forest beginning to be shrouded in evening mist. The dark wood bed looked incredibly inviting with its thick sheepskin blankets.

​Arvid set his bag on the floor. ”This... must have cost a fair bit, Rhea.”

​”I’m paying, Arvid. Stop counting coins while we’re on holiday.”

​Arvid fell silent, then nodded slowly with a resigned smile.

​That afternoon, they found a private hot spring pool behind the inn. The natural pool was surrounded by tall pines, with steam dancing in the evening breeze. It was only them.

​Arvid entered the water first, his body trembling slightly as the warmth hit his aching skin. ”The temperature is perfect... about forty degrees. The minerals feel different, there might be high magnesium here—”

​”Arvid.”

​”Yes?”

​”Quiet. Just soak.”

​Arvid chuckled and finally rested his head against the stone rim.

​Rhea entered slowly, carrying Ana. As soon as the baby’s tiny feet touched the warm water, a small miracle happened. Ana didn’t cry. Instead, the baby let out a clear, crisp laugh. A real laugh, like the first chime of a small bell.

​Rhea froze. Arvid held his breath.

​Slowly, Rhea smiled—a smile that truly reached her eyes. The genuine smile of a mother witnessing her child’s pure happiness.

​”Did you hear that?” Rhea whispered.

​”Yeah,” Arvid replied, his voice slightly thick with emotion. ”She loves it.”

​Night fell silently. Ana was fast asleep in her wicker crib. Arvid sat on the edge of the bed while Rhea stood at the window, staring out at the dark forest.

​”Something bothering you?” Arvid asked softly.

​Rhea was silent for a long time before answering. ”Earlier at the market... the merchants from the west who usually arrive like clockwork were nowhere to be found.”

​”Maybe just some technical trouble on the road.”

​”Maybe.” Rhea pulled the curtains shut.

​Arvid looked at his wife—the woman who could kill without blinking, now standing in ”Lioness Mode” to protect her family’s peace.

​”I love you, Rhea,” Arvid said suddenly.

​Rhea glanced back. ”I know.”

​”You aren’t going to say it back?”

​”You already know the answer. Why repeat it?”

​Arvid let out a soft laugh. ”Fair point.”

​They lay down side by side, enjoying the rare silence of the night. But behind that peace, in the darkness of the forest outside the town, something cold was moving.

​Ten black shadows stopped behind the ridge of a hill. Their armor was dark, reflecting no moonlight. The steam weapons in their hands looked cold and lethal. They gazed down at the small town below, where the lights were beginning to fade.

​An officer raised his communication device.

​”Next town. Two days away,” the voice on the other end sounded frigid—the voice of General Katarina.

​”Understood. No witnesses, no tracks. Just like before.”

​The ten shadows nodded in unison, then melted back into the forest’s darkness, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.