By midday, the faint glare of the sun pierced through the overcast sky.
Inside a cramped cabin, Rianor Sudrath leaned back against a wooden desk. His gray eyes stared through thin spectacles at a wide parchment spread before him. His face still bore the pale traces of seasickness, and his black hair was slightly disheveled.
On the desk lay a map of the Iron Empire's military port.
With a quill, Rianor added a new stroke in the southwest corner: Worker settlement.
"Hmm..." Rianor murmured softly.
One crucial fact was becoming increasingly evident. There were no mana sensors. No magic traps. A military facility of this magnitude was purely driven by steam pressure, mechanics, and an absolute reliance on human eyes.
Rianor flipped open a leather-bound journal and jotted down a single deduction:
Their massive strength lies in mechanical control and steam pressure. However, their greatest weakness is their visual dependency.
Clank.
