Chapter 45: The Edge of the Map (Part 1)

One year and four months had passed since the physical labor chits were abolished. 

In that time, the scrubland had not just been tamed; it had been conquered. The City-State of Guardianship was no longer a frantic, dusty construction site. It was a sprawling, industrialized fortress that defied the comprehension of anyone born in this era. 

A massive, impenetrable perimeter wall now enclosed the entire territory. Inside, the grand vision of the Sovereign had been perfectly realized. Seven identical counties stretched across the land in flawless geometric grids. The agricultural belts were a lush, deep green, fed by miles of deep, overflowing canals that mocked the ongoing regional drought. 

The citizens were finally settling into a rhythm of life that had never existed in the Cuvelai basin. The era of desperate survival was over. Now, men and women woke up in their multi-family courtyard estates, walked on paved brick roads to the factory districts, and earned their Copper Leaves and Iron Gears. Street vendors sold hot meals on the corners of the Market Districts, and the massive brick-and-timber bureaucratic buildings hummed with organized, wage-based labor. 

But as Amutenya stood by the window of his spacious administrative office on the top floor of the 4th District’s central hub, his focus was entirely on the dangerous, chaotic world outside his walls. 

A sharp knock broke the silence. 

"Enter," Amutenya commanded, his deep voice resonating in the quiet room. 

The heavy mopane wood doors swung open, and Nande stepped inside. The Trade Executive was covered in the thick, red dust of the western trails, looking deeply exhausted. He had been riding the trade routes for months, learning the complex web of regional commerce. Behind him stood the veteran northern merchant Chivaka, whom Amutenya had struck a deal with over a year ago, carrying a heavy, reinforced wooden crate. 

"Leader Amutenya," Nande breathed, bowing respectfully. The boy had grown over the past year. His posture was sharper, his eyes hardened by the brutal realities of the outside world. "We have returned from the coastal trails."

"You have been gone a long time, Nande," Amutenya noted, gesturing for the merchant to set the crate on his large desk. "Did our partner teach you well?"

"He did, My Lord," Nande said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "I have mapped the primary Ovimbundu guild routes. I understand how they tax their caravans, how they bribe the local kings for safe passage, and how they set their exchange rates. But more importantly... I saw what they are bringing back from the ocean."

The veteran merchant produced an iron crowbar and pried the lid off the crate. 

Amutenya leaned over. Inside were dense bricks of raw coastal salt, tightly bound bundles of fine silk, and small leather sacks filled with exotic seeds. But Amutenya's eyes bypassed the agricultural wealth and locked onto the cold, dark metal resting at the bottom. 

He reached past the goods and pulled out a long, heavy object wrapped in oiled cloth. As the fabric fell away, the unmistakable scent of sulfur and gun oil filled the pristine office. It was a Portuguese matchlock musket. 

"They call them 'fire-pipes'," Nande explained, his tone dropping as Amutenya tested the heavy weight of the firearm. "The pale-skinned men from across the ocean—the Portuguese—are trading them to the coastal kings in exchange for ivory, copper, and slaves. The weapons are heavy and slow to load, but the noise and the smoke terrify the local militias."

Amutenya examined the primitive firing mechanism. With the Tier 3 tech tree fully integrated into the city’s forges, Hedimbi could easily reverse-engineer the iron barrel. And with Ndapandula’s medical and chemical division fully operational, they could eventually manufacture their own black powder. 

But the musket wasn't just a weapon; it was a ticking clock. The colonial era was grinding its way inland.

"Did you learn anything else about these Portuguese?" Amutenya asked, setting the musket back into the crate. 

"They are building permanent stone fortresses along the Angolan coast," Nande reported, pulling his heavily annotated ledger from his pouch. "They are pushing their trade routes further east. But Leader... they are not the only ones asking questions."

Amutenya narrowed his eyes, his imposing physique shifting slightly. "Explain."

The merchant Chivaka spoke up, his voice rough and laced with genuine awe. "Sovereign, your city is too loud. A year ago, we bought out the crossroads with glass beads. Now? Your iron tools are flooding the secondary markets. Your glass is being traded all the way to the coast. I took your man Nande and his crew to the western hubs to show him the ropes, and everywhere we went, the merchants were terrified."

Nande nodded grimly. "Rumors are spreading like a plague. They are whispering about a walled mountain of wealth rising in the southern scrubland. The natives cannot comprehend it. They say a god has built a city where water flows through the desert, where commoners eat meat every day, and where wealth is stamped into metal coins."

Amutenya exhaled slowly. He had known this day would come. A perfectly ordered, industrialized metropolis could not hide in an era of starvation and tribal warfare. 

"Who is listening to these rumors?" Amutenya asked. 

"Everyone," Nande replied. "The desperate nomadic raiders in the east are starving, and they have heard we have silos full of grain that reach the sky. But worse... the local town governors under King Mwaala’s jurisdiction are panicking. The refugees stopped coming to them over a year ago. Now, they know exactly where all the people went. And they know we have built walls."

Amutenya looked back out the window. Below, thousands of his citizens were living safe, prosperous lives, entirely unaware of the target painted on their backs. 

"Let them whisper," Amutenya said, his voice cold and resolute. "Send the musket to Hedimbi. Tell him to take it apart and figure out how to forge the barrel. Send the seeds to Tate Amupolo. And send word to Homateni and Nangolo to double the Vanguard patrols on the eastern borders."

He turned back to Nande and Chivaka, the oppressive, terrifying weight of the Sovereign radiating from him. 

"The era of building in the shadows is over. If the world wants to look at us, let them look. But if they cross our walls uninvited, we will show them what a true empire looks like." Ginally he turned to Chivaka. "I am assuming, you have say to me?" The old merchant laughed nervously, before wiping his hands on his tunic.

"Chief Amutenya, don't get me wrong, I mean no harm. My cousin is a close friend of the Portuguese habor patrol officers 3rd brother in law. He told me that some of the higher ups have taken notice of you, but they are still debating what to do, I was going to advice you to lay low for a while until the rumors die down, but after hearing what you said, I understand you already have plans." The man rambled. Amutenya raised a hand to cut him off, "just say what you want to say, Chivaka."

"Chief Amutenya yaAmupolo. I, Chivaka would like to enter a long term partnership with your chiefdom. I will gather supplies you need in exchange for as much glass beads as they are worth, and a 6 month exclusive right to use your any new formulas you come up with."

Amutenya eyes the merchant for a while, his eyes trailing over the beads of sweat of his brows.

" 2 months is the minimum right to exclusivity I can give you." Amutenya said calmy. " 2 months is too short, that's not even enough time to make a trip back to the coast!" Chivaka yelled, getting very anxious.

" I know that for now two months seems like a short time, but in a few years we will be the center of the world, with everyone out there foaming at the mouth to get their hands on any of our inventions, by then what you hold will make you second to only us, even if it is just from 2 months, it is enough to earn you generational wealth." This was Amutenya’s plan; to become the center of the new world. 

"That's a good self prediction, but I don't rely on those to feed my men, so until you can reach the level of power you speak of, we will still rely on a 6 month exclusivity arrangement." Chivaka said, he was a merchant who understood how fast the tides can change, and he was not about to tie his ship to this young fledgling lord's habour just because he is a genius, geniuses were not rare to find, what was rare was a genius who lived long enough to matter.

"Fine, but when I do reach that level of power, your exclusivity right will be for only a month."

"Fine."

After a few more pleasantries. Chivaka left, and Amutenya looked at Nande, "you seemed to have gained a lot." He asked the man.

"Yes, my lord. I have even unlocked part 8 of my book." He boasted with a small smirk. " perfect, since you're back, rest for a few months, after that you will take over the task of forming our own caravans. 3 independent caravans to map out new trade routes and map the terrains."

"Yes my lord, I will immediately start making arrangements." He said, " No, get some rest otherwise Tuwilika will kill me for overworking you." Amutenya joked. Nande chuckled sheepishly before leaving to find his wife.

After the office returned to silence.

Amutenya’s face turned stern. "Inform Shiimi to send some people to watch the coastal areas. inform me if those Portuguese make any moves." He spoke to the silent office.

After a brief second, a short reply came from the shadows.

"Yes, my lord."