1885, I came to save Greece

Chapter 148 The Sound from the Mountains

The celebrations at the mountaintop fortress will eventually come to an end, the lingering warmth of the liquor will remain, but the mission of exploration is now of utmost urgency.

Leonidas Capsalis kept his word. He personally selected ten hunters most familiar with the mountain paths to serve as guides and guards for Petrettis's group. The mountain people no longer looked at them with wariness, but rather with a mixture of curiosity and respect. Capsalis's nephew even specifically reminded Petrettis, "The weather in the mountains this time of year is unpredictable; sometimes a single rainstorm can wash away half a cliff. You must be careful."

Led by their guide, the team's pace more than doubled. They climbed steep rock faces, traversed deep, dense forests, and finally, five days later, reached the heart of the Agrafa Mountains.

A deep rumble came from ahead, like a thousand horses galloping underground. The air became humid, and moisture rushed towards them. Rounding the last massive stone beam, a breathtakingly magnificent sight unfolded before everyone.

Here, the Aseruos River is squeezed between two towering cliffs, its once wide channel suddenly narrowing to less than a hundred meters. The surging waters converge into a violent force, scouring the rocks at the bottom of the valley and stirring up clouds of white mist. The roar is like thunder, deafening.

This is "Devil's Canyon".

"This is it!" the elderly engineer Zograves exclaimed excitedly, leaning on his cane. His voice seemed small amidst the roar of the water. "Ten years ago, I conceived of that dam right here!"

In his eyes, the flame that had been extinguished ten years ago was rekindled.

But the flames soon encountered the cold reality. The canyon walls were near-vertical cliffs, offering no foothold whatsoever. To conduct precise geological surveys and topographic mapping here was nothing short of a pipe dream.

Several young students in the group looked hesitant. Even the mountain hunter sent by Capsalis shook his head, indicating that only eagles could reach such a place.

Give me the rope.

Elias Petritis removed his leather vest, revealing his strong, muscular upper body. He took several bundles of thick, long hemp rope and skillfully tied intricate knots around his waist and chest.

"Are you crazy?" a student cried out. "There's a bottomless abyss below!"

Petrettis did not answer. He handed one end of the rope to some of the strongest mountain men and had them secure it to a solid rock behind him. Then, he grabbed the other end of the rope, took a deep breath, leaned back, and was suspended over the edge of the precipice.

He was like a nimble gecko, his feet searching for tiny footholds on the smooth rock face, his body swinging in mid-air like a pendulum. He gripped the rope tightly with one hand, while his other hand could still pull out a geological hammer and a specimen bag from the tool bag at his waist.

He hovered in mid-air, knocked off a rock, put it in his bag, and continued his descent. The mountain wind made his body sway violently, and below him roared torrents; one wrong step and he would be smashed to pieces.

The unruly mountain warriors stared in disbelief. They considered themselves sons of the forest, but they had never witnessed such astonishing courage and skill. This was beyond climbing; it was practically dancing on a precipice.

"Aren't there really men like this in Athens?" a mountain dweller murmured, his voice full of admiration.

For the next few weeks, Petritis measured Devil's Canyon inch by inch using this most primitive and dangerous method. He carried a theodolite, suspended on the cliff face, recording precise data. His courage earned this exploration team from Athens the most sincere respect from the people of Agrafa.

The team's work was highly effective. A large number of rock specimens and mapping data were collected and presented to Zograves.

That night, by the campfire at the encampment, Zograves didn't organize his data as usual. He simply sat blankly on a rock, a newly completed rock structure analysis report spread out in front of him.

His face was paler than the rock face, and he looked as if his bones had been removed.

Petrettis finished his workday, came over, and handed him a piece of hot bread.

"Mr. Zograves, what have you discovered?"

The old engineer didn't take the bread. He looked up, his lips trembling, his gray hair disheveled in the wind.

"It's over," he squeezed out through gritted teeth.

He pointed to a red marked line on the report, his voice hoarse as if it had been sanded.

"The southern cliffs of Devil's Canyon...beneath the surface rock lies a hidden, massive fault line. The rocks here are already fractured from the inside out. They simply cannot withstand...the terrifying water pressure of the future dam."

This news was like the coldest ice water poured over everyone's head.

This meant that their weeks of desperate efforts had come to nothing. It meant that every dance Petritis performed on the cliff was meaningless. It meant that the entire Agrafa plan was, at its very core, an impossible fantasy.

The campsite fell into a deathly silence. Several young students hung their heads in dejection; the exhaustion of the past few days and the shattering of their hopes had completely broken them.

Zograves seemed to have aged ten years overnight. He struggled to his feet, went to the makeshift tent, and lit an oil lamp.

He took out his codebook and began writing a letter to Athens. Every letter felt like a knife being etched into his heart.

He described this catastrophic discovery clearly using the most rigorous technical language. At the end of the letter, the light of the oil lamp shone on his trembling hands as he wrote that word of utter despair.

"Your Highness, perhaps we are truly wrong."

He sealed the letter with sealing wax and handed it to the most capable messenger sent by Capsalis. The messenger glanced at the somber atmosphere in the camp, asked no further questions, and quickly disappeared into the night.

Athens three days later.

In the secret map room beneath the palace, the lights were on. Constantine and Nicholas Dimitrios were sketching the transmission lines of the future national AC power grid on a huge map of Greece, using red and blue pencils.

Alexandros appeared at the top of the steps and handed Constantine a newly deciphered secret letter.

Constantine unfolded the letter and quickly scanned it. His expression turned serious. The relaxed atmosphere in the map room vanished instantly.

He handed the letter to Dimitrios, who was standing next to him.

Dimitrios adjusted his glasses and carefully read Zograves's desperate technical report. He read slowly, his brow furrowing deeper and deeper.

Just when Constantine thought he was about to sentence him to death, a burning light suddenly flashed in Dimitrios's eyes.

"Your Highness, this is not a desperate situation, it is the will of Heaven!"

His voice was filled with barely suppressed excitement. He snatched the red pencil from Constantine's hand and began to draw frantically on the topographical sketch of Devil's Canyon.

Instead of drawing a straight line, he drew a beautiful arc.

"Traditional gravity dams rely on their own weight to resist water pressure, concentrating all the pressure at the bottom of the dam. Therefore, they require an extremely solid foundation. Mr. Zograves's judgment is correct; under those geological conditions, building a gravity dam would be suicidal!"

His pen flew across the blueprints.

"But we don't have to confront the water pressure head-on! We can use a completely new design—an arched dam! It's like a horizontal arch bridge, cleverly transmitting the enormous water pressure from upstream to the mountains on both banks through its arched structure! That fragile fault zone is no longer the main load-bearing part!"

Constantine stared at the elegant yet bold arc on the blueprint. It was a concept that existed only in the theories of a few top engineers; no large dam in the world had dared to adopt it.

This is the wild fantasy of a madman, and also the masterpiece of a genius.

Constantine looked at the scientist in front of him, who was trembling with excitement, and then thought of the disheartened old engineer far away in the mountains.

He made a decision.

He picked up his pen and quickly wrote on a new sheet of paper. He offered no comfort or explanation, but simply and concisely outlined Dimitrios's concept, and personally copied the conceptual sketch of the arch dam onto the back of the paper.

At the end of the letter, Constantine left only one sentence.

"...Furthermore, I have reviewed nearly thirty years of records from the Royal Meteorological Society of Athens and consulted senior naval captains. They all believe that rainfall in the Agrafa Mountains this autumn may far exceed that of previous years. This is both a challenge and a free tool given to us by nature to erode bedrock. Be patient and make good use of nature's power. Mr. Zograves, old maps cannot find new continents. I have staked the future of Greece on your courage and Dimitrios's talent. I have also prepared a 'final gift' for you, which will help you clear the way if you encounter difficulties that even you cannot solve. The messenger will deliver it."