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Join the ServerAlistair spread the blueprint, titled A Line Security Protection Plan Based on Electromagnetic Redundancy Backup and Fault Location, across the massive workbench as if it were a sacred relic.
He summoned all the engineers and technicians in the Telegraph Bureau who were still able to stand.
“Look closely, everyone!” Alistair’s voice was hoarse with excitement. “This is the path Professor Lia has shown us!”
Every line, every symbol on the blueprint contained a wisdom that transcended the era.
The idea of redundancy backup was simple and brute-force, yet incredibly effective.
Laying a few extra lines was like having spare wheels for a carriage.
But what truly shocked all the engineers present was the ingenious design called “fault location.”
“By measuring the round-trip time of the detection current…” a young engineer murmured to himself, “this… this is like turning time into our eyes!”
“More than just eyes, it’s a bloodhound!” an older technician added. “It can sniff out a fault hidden in any corner of the city.”
Alistair wasted no time.
“Begin at once!” he commanded. “Pour all our resources, all our manpower, into remodeling the system!”
The entire Telegraph Bureau transformed into a high-speed machine.
Engineers worked through the night, breaking down Lia’s blueprint into executable modules.
Workers, escorted by the City Guard, began laying new backup cables along the existing lines and installing small detection devices.
The nights in the Royal Capital were no longer just filled with the furtive shadows of saboteurs.
There were also the countless busy figures of the Telegraph Bureau workers under the lights; they had become the guardians of the new era.
Meanwhile, at the headquarters of the Galloping Horse Courier Guild.
President Bartlett was leisurely sipping red wine from the south.
“President, it seems they’re reinforcing the lines,” his deputy reported, a hint of disdain in his tone.
“Reinforcing?” Bartlett sneered. “Can they turn copper wire into steel?”
“Let them repair. The harder they work, the better,” he swirled his wine glass. “All we need is a pair of scissors to turn all their efforts to dust.”
The deputy smiled in understanding.
“Tonight, our targets are the main lines of the Ministry of Finance and the Royal Academy of Sciences,” Bartlett issued a new directive. “I want the king to receive no financial reports tomorrow morning.”
“Understood.”
Night fell once again.
Several black shadows skillfully avoided the City Guard’s patrol routes and arrived at a telegraph pole near the Ministry of Finance building.
The leader of the saboteurs looked up.
The wires seemed denser than before.
“Who cares. We’ll just cut a few more times.”
He took out the specially made long-handled insulated shears from his bag.
Snip.
The crisp sound echoed in the night wind.
A brand-new copper wire snapped.
Triumphant smiles appeared on the saboteurs’ faces.
However, before the smiles could fully bloom, they froze on their faces.
An invisible magic barrier descended from the sky, trapping them firmly at the base of the telegraph pole.
Immediately after, dazzling magical lights lit up from all directions.
Dozens of fully armed City Guard mages emerged from the shadows, their staves pointed at them from a distance.
In the hands of the leading City Guard captain was a small instrument that was constantly flashing a red light.
It was the portable fault locator.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” the City Guard captain said with a cold smile. “I believe you’re the ones responsible for the recent line damages. We’ve been waiting for you for a long time.”
“Take them away!”
The saboteurs’ faces turned ashen.
They couldn’t understand why the response this time was so swift, so precise.
It was as if an invisible pair of eyes had locked onto them from the moment they made their move.
Inside Alistair’s Telegraph Bureau, there was a scene of jubilation.
On the map, the moment the light representing the main line of the Ministry of Finance went out, the light for the backup line automatically lit up.
Communication was not interrupted for even a second.
At the same time, the fault location system instantly pinpointed the specific location where the sabotage occurred.
“We got them!” an engineer shouted excitedly.
Alistair’s tightly clenched fists finally relaxed, and he let out a long sigh of relief.
This war, they had won.
The City Guard’s interrogation went exceptionally smoothly.
Faced with irrefutable evidence, the arrested saboteurs quickly confessed the mastermind behind the scenes—the president of the Galloping Horse Courier Guild, Bartlett.
The next morning, while Bartlett was still waiting for good news in his mansion, the one who kicked down his door was not his deputy, but the King’s Royal Guard.
“Mr. Bartlett,” the captain of the Royal Guard presented the arrest warrant signed by the king, “you are under arrest on suspicion of deliberately damaging important kingdom facilities and endangering national security.”
Bartlett collapsed to the floor.
He couldn’t figure out how his foolproof plan had completely collapsed overnight.
The Galloping Horse Courier Guild was quickly shut down, and all its assets were confiscated by the royal family to compensate for the Telegraph Bureau’s losses.
This counterattack launched by the vested interests of the old era came to a dramatic and swift end.
After this battle, the reliability of the telegraph was no longer questioned.
Alistair’s Telegraph Bureau, having weathered this storm, saw its business volume explode.
Nobles, merchant guilds, and workshops in the Royal Capital all queued up to be connected to the telegraph network.
King Augustus, seeing the immense potential of this technology in military and governance, ordered the telegraph network to be extended to every county and every military fortress in the kingdom.
Alistair, the once unknown Fourth-Circle Mage, became a hot commodity in the kingdom overnight.
He was officially promoted to Baron, becoming the first mage to receive a noble title through “applied magic.”
At the grand investiture ceremony, Alistair, facing the king and all the spectating nobles, gave a speech.
He did not boast much of his own merits, but said solemnly, “All my achievements stem from the light of wisdom of all mages. I am just a lucky light-chaser.”
These words, transmitted through a magic amplification device, spread throughout the entire Royal Capital square.
Countless mid- and low-level mages in the crowd, listening to these words, felt an unprecedented fire ignite in their eyes.
Many of them had limited talent and would never be able to achieve anything in theoretical research in their entire lives, let alone become a Ninth-Circle Archmage like Horace.
They had once been lost, thinking they were just marginal figures in the magic world.
But Alistair’s success opened a brand new door for them.
It turned out that they didn’t have to create the truth.
They could apply the truth.
They too could change the world, and they too could obtain wealth, status, and glory.
A wave called “Magitech Engineering” quietly began to rise in the Kingdom of Heinrich.
This sharp sword, handed out by Lia, had not only cut through the conspiracies in the shadows but also cut open the curtain of a new era.
The excitement doesn't stop here! If you enjoyed this, you’ll adore I Possessed the Obsessive-Captive Dominant Top. Start reading now!
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