After some time, Silver Claw said, “Then, I will keep my promise. I will work for the Young Master.”
Even if the plans seemed unrealistic, Silver Claw deemed that he should at least uphold his promise. Even if the plans failed, he would try his best to see it through the end. That was his resolve.
“Excellent,” said Lark, grinning. He took out a small rolled parchment from his cloak and opened it. “Then, here is your first task.”
Chapter Eleven
Gaston looked at the hall below. The soldiers, including the new recruits, were training. After running around the hall hundreds of times, they would immediately begin the basic training. Stab, pull, repeat. These movements have been done repeatedly for the past few days.
The young master constantly emphasized the importance of the basics, saying that it would determine the overall competence of an individual. With those thoughts in mind, he strictly made everyone repeat the same stabbing movements again and again.
The old butler smiled at this sight. Who would have known that these many people were willing to become soldiers of the Young Master? At the corner of his heart, he was thankful of the small changes that was happening to the young Lord. Despite the numerous criticisms to Lark back in Gryphon’s City, Gaston believed that the Young Master would eventually grow up to become a splendid man. And it seemed that he was right.
“Lord Drakus,” whispered the butler. “Your son isn’t as hopeless as you thought. I sincerely wish that you’ll allow the young Lord to go back to the Duchy soon.”
Gaston had been working for the House of Marcus for more than fifty years now. He had taken care of Lord Drakus when he was young, and now, he was tasked to take care of his son. To the old butler, his duty was his top priority. His old life was irrelevant and secondary. That was why when the Lord decided to send the Young Master to this desolated region, the old butler insisted that he should follow.
After one last look at the soldiers below, Gaston went towards the room on the third floor. He knocked thrice and a young voice answered. “Enter.”
The door softly creaked as the old butler entered.
“Young Master,” said Gaston. “Here’s the report regarding the new workers. A total of 197 residents applied for different kinds of jobs.”
“How many soldiers passed my exam?” said Lark. He sat at the table, his hands moving busily as he wrote down things on a parchment.
“Out of fifty-seven, forty passed the test, Young Master,” said Gaston. His monocles glimmered for a moment. “As you've ordered, I’ve given Captain Qarat the responsibility of training them. They are currently doing the basic training in the hall right now.”
The test given to the soldier applicants was a series of questions with open-ended answers. The main goal was to assess their personalities, whether they were fit to become soldiers or not. Gaston was given the task of administering these little tests. If there were confusions, he would refer them to the Young Master.
“Have you sent the report to Silver Claw regarding the construction projects in the eastern border?” said Lark.
“Yes, Young Master,” said Gaston. “He said that he’ll need more men if we want to finish the eastern border’s construction before Fall. Also, he’s said that it’ll be impossible to commence with the cobblestone project as of the moment. There’s just not enough hands.”
Lark stopped writing. He took a sip from the cup then gazed at the old man for a moment. “I see. How about the poultry farm?”
“Ah, Sir Silver Claw said that he’ll be able to finish the preparations in the middle of spring,” said the butler. “He’s already ordered his men to place wooden fences in the southern border of the town.”
“Good. Tell him to prioritize that one,” said Lark. “I’ve heard that the products I’ve ordered from Lion City have arrived?”
“Yes, Young Master. We’ve placed the items in the storage room in the underground basement.”
“Good job,” said Lark. He stood up. “Lead me there.”
The butler bowed. “As you wish.”
The two of them went towards the underground basement. Along the way, they passed by the soldiers training in the hall. Lark nodded approvingly at the sight, before resuming his steps towards the underground.
Upon arrival at the basement, several servants and guards were seen going back and forth, carrying with them wooden crates. Wheats, iron ingots and several other products filled the underground room.
Lark inspected the delivered goods. After praising the servants and the guards for a job well done, he asked everyone to leave the basement.
Lark went towards the place where the iron ingots were stored. They have been taken out of the crates beforehand. Just these ingots alone have cost around a hundred gold coins, and including the wheat seeds and the other products, he had spent more than two hundred and fifty gold coins in total after this single transaction.
“I need to secure the Kalrane Mine soon,” said Lark. He knew that at this rate, the treasury would run dry before the arrival of the next winter. After all, there were still the salaries of the workers he needed to worry about.
“Now, let’s try making those things, shall we?” Lark licked his lips then placed his two hands on the iron ingots.
A magic circle appeared underneath the pile of iron, sucking the mana within Lark’s body. After the runes spun around the hexagram, a faint light glowed, and the iron ingots started assuming a different shape. Rakes and other common tools were inefficient and not enough, so Lark decided to create a better tool for farming. Since he wanted to convert the barren lands in the north and the west as soon as possible, he deemed that he needed to compensate the lack of workers by using magical items.
After transmuting the iron ingots, a peculiar product had been made. It was a plowing tool that resembled a bicycle. But instead of wheels at the front, it was a long tube with pointed metals embedded all over the shaft. Small magic circles have been engraved at the handles on both ends, and after adding ormatane dust, it was now possible for non-magicians to use the item by simply providing mana.
Lark was well aware that all creatures in this world have mana residing in their bodies. The amount varies, and the difference between magicians and non-magicians was simply the ability to materialize the mana. With these magical engravements, even those without talent would be capable of using the items.
Lark estimated that a non-magician would be able to use the tools for half an hour at most before running out of mana.
“This is tiring,” he breathed. Beads of sweat have started forming on his forehead. His current body was simply too weak, and after creating the third plowing tool, he found out that he had run out of mana.
Lark sat for a while, his chest rapidly rising and falling. If he was in his previous body, transmuting these iron ingots would have been finished in no time. Still, although it was hard, Lark was enjoying himself. He felt a sense of accomplishment each time a magic tool was created. It was a refreshing feeling, something he had forgotten a long time ago.
***
After finishing the magical tools, including those that would be used for mining, Lark gathered all the farmers that decided to work for him. He led them towards the southern part of the town, the place where the residents dumped their night soil.
“Y-Young Master,” said Gaston. The old man was covering his nose. “Please stop. You’ll get sick if you stay in this place.”
Around them, numerous insects hovered about. The air was putrid, as though the scent of death and decay had covered everything. One of the servants vomited on the ground after stepping inside the area.
Lark did not seem to mind the smell. On the contrary, his eyes were glimmering with delight after seeing the piles of dung that covered everything the eyes could see. According to the documents he had read, the practice of dumping the residents’ excreta to this place had been going on for decades.
This is a treasure trove. I’ll be able to fill the barren l
ands in the north and the west with these composts.
The natural process of decay over the years have made it possible for Lark to immediately utilize these wastes as compost. Although it was crude and there was the danger of acquiring different kinds of disease from using these, Lark planned of taking care of those problems using magic.
“Fill the barrels with these and load them to the carts!” ordered Lark.
The farmers, a bit disgusted by the task, moved and shoveled the night soil into the wooden barrels. There were a couple of complaints why they should move these wastes into the carts. It seemed that in this world, the use of night soil was an unheard-of practice. Even the butler was questioning the sanity of this task. Lark simply shook his head after realizing this fact.
Lark would discreetly cast his magic on the barrels filled with night soil, before loading them to the carts.
Since there was the possibility of gas accumulating inside, Lark prohibited the workers from tightly sealing the barrels. He made sure that there was enough space for the gas to leak out. This, in turn, made the transportation of the night soil towards the farmlands unbearable. All throughout the journey, the farmers were covering their nose. The smell coming from dozens of barrels filled with excreta was simply unbearable.
Lark decided that their first target would be the barren lands in the north.
After arriving at the farm lands, the metallic tools created by Lark had already been neatly placed on the ground. Each of them was around three times the size of a human. There was a large tube at the front of the tools, with spikes protruding all over.
The ground was still covered in snow, but Lark deemed that it would be possible to start the plowing with the help of the tools he had created.
He divided the farmers into two groups. One was responsible for plowing the lands using the tools, while the other was responsible for spreading the composts.
“Listen!” said Lark. He tapped the handle of a plowing tool. “This here is a special item that will make it easier for everyone to plow this land! It requires a bit of mana, but it should be fairly easy to use!”
The farmers looked at each other. Murmurs filled the air.
The butler, seeing this, spoke, “But Young Master, the workers are unable to use mana.”
“That’s fine,” said Lark. He pointed at a skinny man. “You. Try it out.”
The skinny man nervously gulped, looked at his fellow farmers, then went towards the Young Master. After receiving some instructions, he rode the plowing tool. He placed both feet on the pedals then began moving his feet.
“It’s heavy,” said the skinny man. The metallic tool hardly moved despite his desperate attempt at pedaling.
Lark nodded at that statement. “Now, place both your hands over there and do it again.”
The skinny man moved as instructed. He placed both his hands on the handle then started moving his feet. He let out a surprised voice when the plowing tool suddenly moved forward without much difficulty. The shaft in front that was filled with spikes burrowed and plowed through the ground.
Lark cleared his throat and everyone’s attention turned to him. “Winter will end soon. I want this area to be ready for farming once spring arrives. As you have seen, this tool will enable everyone to plow the lands at a relatively faster rate. The handles are especially made to absorb some mana from the user, enabling him to move the tool despite the weight and size. Everyone can use it, even if they are not magicians.”
At those words, the farmers turned to each other and murmured. They were familiar with the ploughs used in major cities, but those things required the use of horses or oxen. In this remote town, they usually used rakes and hoes to plow the land.
“But… Young Master,” said one of the farmers. “Is it true that everyone can use it? We are no magicians. There’s no mana our bodies…”
Lark almost sighed upon hearing this. He felt that the knowledge of this Kingdom regarding magic was too lacking. “That’s incorrect. Everyone has mana in their bodies. Even the animals have it. But the amount varies in each person.” He pointed at the skinny man riding the plowing tool. “He’s not a magician, but he’s able to use it, right?”
Although it felt frustrating trying to teach something so obvious, Lark patiently taught the farmers. If he did not educate them here, problems would arise later.
“Since there are only eight plowing tools right now,” said Lark. “You will alternate in using the equipment. Once the user runs out of mana, another one will replace him. For those that are not using the tools, you will be tasked to spread the composts to the ground. Use the rakes to spread it out.”
Lark opened one of the barrels, and the pungent smell immediately leaked out. He shoveled some night soil then spread them evenly on the ground. Using a rake, he spread it across in a single direction. He planned to plow the area twice to move the compost to deeper areas of the ground.
After the demonstration, Lark approached one of the farmers.
“Oliver,” he said to a man with thick moustache. “I will entrust the northern area to you.”
The man called Oliver bowed his head. He was one of the farmers in Blackstone Town. Unfortunately, he had lost all of his crops from the Black Famine. “Please leave it to me, Young Master.”
Lark nodded. He clapped his hands once and said to everyone, “Start working! I want this area to be ready once spring arrives!”
After those words, everyone started moving.
Lark looked towards the nearby forest, particularly towards the river flowing inside it. His next goal was the irrigation system that would connect to the Rile River.
Chapter Twelve
Inside his office, Lark carefully finished the map of Blackstone Town and its surrounding regions. Yesterday, he flew towards the sky numerous times and recorded the details of the town, along with a large portion of the Endless Forest that surrounded the north and the east, the Rile River that flowed through the forest, the Kastel Plains that spread through the south, and the Prey River that connects to the Lion City in the west.
Since his mana pool was inadequate, Lark had to repeatedly fly to the sky and record the imagery below. It was a toxic task that took him almost an entire day to finish.
“Finally,” he sighed and put his quill down. Spread on the table was a large map of Blackstone Town.
The map was an absolutely necessary existence if he wanted to expand the borders of the town. Upon looking at it, he realized that there was no need to extend the irrigation system from the Rile River until the west. He could just create a second one that connects to the Prey River.
From the door, two knocks were heard.
“Enter,” said Lark.
The door opened and the butler entered the room.
“Young Master, the thing you’ve requested from the Mason has been finished,” said the butler.
Lark raised his brows in surprise. “That’s fast.” He nodded approvingly at the news. “Excellent. Gaston, tell the servants to load the barrels filled with stones to the carts. We shall head immediately to the northern border.”
“Understood.” The butler bowed and the left the room.
On his way towards the garden, he passed through the hall where the soldiers were training. Just like before, they were repeating the same basic movements over and over again. A few days ago, there had been numerous grunts and complaints regarding this, but it seemed that as days went by, the soldiers eventually became used to this routine. Their stiff postures have relaxed somewhat, and although their movements were still crude, they were starting to resemble the trainee soldiers in the Magic Empire.
After buying large quantities of iron ingots and ormatane dust from the Lion City, Lark had been secretly making magic spears for the soldiers. Along the shaft of each spear, Lark would engrave magic diagrams and formations, enabling even non-magic users to use elemental magic with each strike of the spear.
Lark planned on distributing those items once the soldiers
have gained a degree of proficiency with the spear. After all, a weapon that would transform a non-magician to a Magic Soldier would be useless in the hands of those that were unskilled.
Upon seeing the young master, Captain Qarat shouted, “All soldiers — Salute!”
Immediately, the soldiers practicing their piercing skills stood in attention, their spears neatly placed on their right. They clenched their left fist then struck their chest, creating a loud and uniform thud sound.
Lark smiled upon seeing this. This was the same salute used in the Magic Empire. Back in his previous life, tens of thousands of Magic Soldiers would strike their chests when greeting their Commanders, and the impact of that single salute would shake the ground itself. Now that he thought of it, it was indeed an overwhelming and invigorating feeling.
Once the number of soldiers increased, I’ll eventually hear that sound again.
Lark looked forward to that day.
“Continue your training.”
“Understood!”
It’ll probably take a year or two before these guys become worthy of wielding the magic spears. If I gave them those items now, their growth will be hindered in an instant. There’s nothing more dangerous than becoming complacent because of magic items. I’ve seen a lot of soldiers die because they’ve put too much trust in those things. At the end of the day, one’s own skills will be the one that’ll save you in the battlefield.
***
Upon arrival at the northern border, Lark saw the thing he asked the Mason to make. It was a structure made of bricks and clay. Its body was like a box, with a long tube at the end that reminded one of a chimney’s. Following Lark’s design, half of its body was buried in the ground. Beside it, two similar structures were being constructed by the Mason and his men.
“Ah, it’s the Young Master,” said Silver Claw. He wiped the dirt on his hands then made a bow. “We’ve finished the thing you’ve asked. We’re currently working on the second one.”
Legend of the Arch Magus- The Expansion Page 7
