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

​Screeech... clack, clack, clack!

​The iron wheels of the city tram shrieked loudly as they sliced through the asphalt of Iron Hearth. Thick steam billowed from its funnel, parting the freezing evening wind that was beginning to bite at the skin.

​Inside one of the less crowded wooden carriages, Raphael and Elodie sat side-by-side. Around them, exhausted factory workers fresh off their shifts dozed off against the windows, while a mother busily guarded her woven shopping basket to keep it from spilling.

​The tram lurched again as it navigated a sharp turn. Thump. Raphael and Elodie’s shoulders bumped into each other.

​If this had happened yesterday, both would have reflexively flinched away as if electrocuted. But this evening... Raphael didn’t pull his shoulder back at all. Instead, the young man allowed their arms to remain pressed together, sharing a quiet warmth amidst the chill of the tram cabin.

​From the corner of his eye, Raphael stole a glance. He watched just how sweetly Elodie tucked a stray strand of wind-blown brown hair behind her ear.

​Mustering an extra surge of courage, Raphael’s fingers slowly crept across the wooden bench. Closing the distance. Brush. The back of his hand touched the back of hers.

​Elodie held her breath for a fraction of a second, but she didn’t pull her hand away. Seeing the green light, Raphael slowly opened his palm, slipped his fingers through hers, and held her hand tightly. He did it with extreme care, as if he were holding fragile porcelain.

​Elodie returned the warm grasp. The girl’s fingers, calloused from gripping a hoe in the fields, now intertwined perfectly with the fingers of a prince.

​”Toasted wheat bread! Piping hot, fresh out of the oven!”

​The raspy shout of an elderly hawker carrying a woven basket shattered their daydream.

​Raphael hurriedly raised his free hand, exchanging a few copper coins for two loaves of bread that still released the mouth-watering steam of butter and yeast.

​”Eat,” Raphael said, offering one of the hot buns to Elodie. ”You must be starving after getting your brain squeezed dry in Lady Raveena’s class.”

​Elodie accepted the bread with a suppressed smile. ”It’s a miracle. You always seem to know the exact schedule of my stomach.”

​”That’s because your stomach always grumbles at the exact same hour every single day, El,” Raphael teased, raising a single eyebrow.

​Elodie let out a crisp laugh, playfully smacking the young man’s shoulder. It was the exact same carefree, melodic laugh that had first captivated Raphael on the canal bridge back then.

​The two of them ate their wheat bread. Shoulders still leaning against one another. One hand still tightly intertwined, hidden in the space between the wooden benches, while the other held their food. The tram continued to rattle across the city, but inside that cramped carriage, time felt as though it had slowed to a crawl.

​They finally stepped off at the final stop on the outskirts of the city.

​It only took a short walk down a cobblestone path cutting through a pine forest until the vast expanse of the Mirror Lake finally greeted them.

​True to its name, the lake’s water was exceptionally still and crystal clear, flawlessly reflecting the gradients of orange, purple, and soft pink from the twilight sky. Whooosh... The rustling wind sweeping through the tips of the pine trees blended with the distinct scent of tree sap, refreshing their lungs, which were far too used to inhaling factory smoke.

​The area around the lake was relatively quiet. There were only a few young couples sitting on stone benches, and an old man fishing in the distance.

​”This... this is incredibly beautiful, Raphael,” Elodie whispered, her eyes sparkling as she gazed at the sky’s reflection on the water’s surface.

​The two of them strolled down a small wooden pier jutting out into the middle of the lake.

​Upon reaching the end of the pier, they took off their leather shoes, placing them neatly on the wooden planks. They sat side-by-side, letting their bare feet dangle in the air. The tips of their toes barely brushed the freezing surface of the lake water.

​”You know, El...” Raphael stared at his own reflection in the water. ”A long time ago, I couldn’t ride a two-wheeled bicycle at all.”

​Elodie turned her head, her brow furrowing adorably. ”A two-wheeled bicycle? Is that some sort of machine carriage Lord Rianor built?”

​Raphael smiled wryly, realizing he had just accidentally leaked a memory from his past life on Earth. He quickly covered it up. ”Ah, it’s just a type of wheeled mechanical toy. The point is, I was absolutely terrible at riding it. It was Brother Riven who forced me to learn every single afternoon. I fell so many times my knees were torn and bloody, and I wailed like a baby.”

​”My goodness! Did General Riven treat your wounds?”

​”Yeah, right,” Raphael scoffed in amusement. ”Brother Riven just stood there with his arms crossed, watched me cry, and said: ’You will never be able to move forward if you choose to stop pedaling now.’”

​Elodie let out a small laugh, picturing the intimidating general trying to educate his little brother.

​”Your family is so unique,” Elodie said softly. ”As for my Dad... he isn’t the type of man who can say sweet things like ’I love you’. He’s too stiff. But, every morning before I even wake up, Dad is already out hoeing the fields. And every night, he always comes home bringing extra boiled sweet potatoes for me.”

​Elodie kicked her feet lightly in the air. ”I’ve realized that everyone actually has their own distinct language for showing affection.”

​Raphael fell silent, absorbing that simple philosophy. He turned his head slowly, looking at the contours of the girl’s face illuminated by the twilight glow.

​”El. I am not good at orchestrating grand, sweet gestures to show affection,” Raphael whispered, his voice growing heavy. ”I just... I just want to always be near you.”

​Elodie met his intense gaze. A faint blush crept across her cheeks.

​”That is more than enough for me, Raphael.”

​No more words were spoken. They purely sat side-by-side. Shoulders resting against one another. Watching the sun slowly sink, swallowed by the horizon of the water, until the very first star peeked shyly into the night sky.

​Night had fully descended by the time they returned to the city center via the return tram.

​Now, Raphael stood dropping Elodie off right at the intersection in front of her house. The peeling white wooden fence and the rows of rosemary herb pots in the yard served as their silent witnesses.

​This was the exact same location where Raphael had catastrophically failed his confession yesterday due to the ”girlfriend” vocabulary incident. But tonight, the atmosphere felt one hundred and eighty degrees different. Infinitely more relieving.

​”Thank you so much for the trip today, Raphael.” Elodie clutched her notebook to her chest.

​Raphael scratched the back of his neck, which didn’t itch. Heh. ”I’m not even sure if it was fun for you. I just... wanted to spend some time alone with you.”

​”Spending time alone with you is exactly what made it fun, Prince Sudrath,” Elodie teased with a crisp giggle.

​Raphael nodded in agreement. ”In that case... I want us to go out again. Next weekend. We’ll find a different place.”

​Elodie smiled sweetly. ”Wow, it seems like you’re starting to get used to this and getting addicted, huh?”

​”Of course. I learned from the best mentor.”

​”Oh really? Who’s the mentor?”

​”You.”

​Elodie let out a soft laugh. The girl then took a single step forward, erasing the remaining distance between them.

​And without any warning—driven by an explosive burst of impulsive courage that surprised even herself—Elodie stood on her tiptoes. Peck. She planted an incredibly brief kiss on Raphael’s cheek.

​The kiss was so feather-light, exactly like the flutter of a butterfly’s wing accidentally brushing against a flower petal.

​”Good night, Raphael.”

​Before the neural pathways in Raphael’s brain could even process what kind of circuit had just detonated on his cheek, Elodie had already spun around and jogged lightly into her house. Click. The door shut tight.

​Raphael stood paralyzed on the quiet street as if cursed by freezing magic.

​One of his hands slowly rose to touch his own cheek, which felt burning hot. A goofy, genuine, and impossibly wide smile bloomed, refusing to fade from the prince’s face.

​With a heart bursting with blooming flowers, Raphael turned around and began his walk home through the city streets.

​However... the sweet smile on Raphael’s face was instantly wiped clean, leaving no trace behind, the exact second his boots stepped onto the main courtyard of the Iron Hearth Castle.

​A brutal emotional whiplash slapped him across the face.

​The castle, which was usually serene at night, was now boiling with high-level military activity. Dozens of elite soldiers hurried back and forth in a half-sprint. Clack! Clack! Clack! The heavy stomping of steel-toed boots echoed violently against the stone floors. Logistics personnel hoisted crates of green ammunition toward the armored vehicle garages. Extra torches were blazed fiercely along the corridor pillars.

​There was no panic or hysterical shouting. There was only a terrifyingly organized, grim calmness—and that was exactly what made the hairs on the back of Raphael’s neck stand up.

​Raphael quickened his pace, his eyes frantically scanning the area to find the source of this chaos.

​Until finally, he found Riven standing like a fortress in the center of the main corridor intersection.

​Riven Sudrath. The Grand General of Northreach was no longer wearing his casual shirt. The man was clad in full-scale tactical war armor radiating a dense, murderous aura. The silver Wolf emblem glinted ferociously on his chest plate, while a deep blue wolf-fur mantle billowed heavily behind his back.

​Riven was issuing low-toned instructions to two staff officers. The moment his eyes caught Raphael’s arrival, the General raised a hand in the air. The two officers reflexively bowed in respect and hurried away.

​”Brother Riven...” Raphael swallowed hard, his voice trembling slightly as he fought back a horrible premonition. ”W-What is going on here? Why are the troops on high alert?”

​Riven looked straight into his brother’s eyes. His voice was incredibly low and heavy, utterly devoid of hesitation.

​”I am departing for the Khanate. Tomorrow at dawn.”

​Raphael’s eyes widened in shock. ”The Khanate?! But... didn’t the latest reports say that Khan Arslan flat-out rejected our joint military assistance?!”

​”This is no longer about extending a helping hand, Raphael. This is a mission to forcefully restore peace,” Riven answered sharply.

​The General took a step closer. ”The truth is, the Iron Empire is not our enemy. Their forces are the pure-blooded descendants of the remaining Project Legion. They are currently just blind, lost in a labyrinth of past vengeance. If Northreach doesn’t step in immediately to halt their insane invasion... the Khanate will be razed to the ground and their civilization eradicated.”

​Riven turned his face toward the north-facing window. ”Rhea is there. Arvid and their little daughter are there. I will not let my family be trapped in a warzone.”

​Raphael was struck speechless. The fragmented pieces of information about Project Legion, which he had only heard bits and pieces of at the dining table, slowly pieced together a horrifying reality in his head.

​”Is this... is this purely your initiative, Brother? Or has Father authorized it?”

​”Father issued this command directly from Frostmere.”

​A suffocating silence clamped down on the throats of the two brothers.

​Riven raised his massive, combat-gloved hand. He placed it firmly onto Raphael’s shoulder. The grip was sturdy and heavy.

​”Rianor and Roland are risking their lives in the Southern Capital. Rhea is trapped in the Northwest. And tomorrow at dawn, I will follow to tear through the Northwestern border,” Riven stated firmly, staring straight through Raphael’s retinas. ”While we are all gone... you are the last one left to guard this home.”

​Raphael gave a slight jolt. He looked up. ”M-Me?”

​”Yes, you.” Riven gripped his brother’s shoulder a fraction tighter. ”Take good care of Mother. Take care of Elena and Kaelven for me. Protect every servant and soldier inside this fortress.”

​Riven carved a faint smile—a smile of acknowledgment from a General to a soldier. ”Your body may still be young, Raphael. But mentally, you are no longer a rookie who cries. I believe in you one hundred percent... you can do this.”

​Raphael gave a stiff nod. His throat felt far too tight to answer with words.

​Riven patted his brother’s shoulder powerfully twice. Pat! Pat! The giant man then turned around, marching back down the corridor to resume the weapons inspection of his troops.

​Raphael could only stand paralyzed in the same hallway, watching his brother’s broad back slowly recede, swallowed by the ranks of soldiers.

​The freezing wind of the northern border blew bone-deep on the balcony of Raphael’s room that night.

​The young prince stood leaning his arms against the stone railing, staring blankly at the sea of stars twinkling arrogantly in the Iron Hearth night sky.

​In his hand, he tightly gripped a mechanical puzzle.

​Raphael’s fingers moved mechanically, sliding the cold metal panels left and right. Click. Slide. Click. He wasn’t focusing his eyes to solve the complex sequence at all. His hands purely needed an outlet for movement so his brain wouldn’t explode. His mind was incredibly overcrowded tonight.

​The threat of the Khanate’s destruction. The blind wrath of the Iron Empire’s forces. The bloody secret of Project Legion.

​Tomorrow at dawn, Riven would march toward a slaughterhouse. Rianor and Roland were still fighting, though perhaps returning soon. His sister, Rhea, might be shielding her baby right now. And Raphael... he was cursed to stand here. Locked inside the house. Serving as the final goalkeeper.

​However... amidst the storm of geopolitical chaos threatening to tear apart the peace of the world...

​Raphael’s fingers unconsciously brushed against his own cheek.

​The memory of a warm smile flashed back. The crisp laughter inside the steam tram carriage. The calloused fingers intertwined shyly yet tightly. And a feather-light peck, like a butterfly landing on his cheek. Elodie.

​All the turbulent chaos inside his chest suddenly felt a little bit lighter. Having someone to protect, it turned out, could be a vastly more logical source of power than mere heroic ambition.

​Raphael took an incredibly deep breath, letting the freezing oxygen burn his lungs. He stared at the metal puzzle in his hand for a moment, then lifted his face, looking straight at the brightest star in the northern constellation.

​”By the Goddess...” Raphael whispered with absolute resolve beneath the silence of the night sky. ”I swear I will not let any of you down.”