by Michael Sisa
Garma nodded. He already knew this based on the story circulating among the masses, but he wanted to hear it from Lark firsthand regardless.
“Come in, kid,” said the blacksmith. “I want to hear the rest of the story.”
Lark entered the smithy, the door was shut, and the blacksmith started serving water and brown bread. After hearing Lark’s recount of the story, and after confirming that Zacharia was indeed the one who’d sent him, Garma’s demeanor took a hundred- and eighty-degree turn.
“Hahaha!” The blacksmith laughed boisterously as he repeatedly slammed his muscular hands on the table before him. “Zacharia got his ass handed to him by General Alvaren, huh!”
Garma wiped the tears at the corner of his eyes. For some reason, he was really amused after hearing that his friend was defeated on his first encounter with the Magic Slayer.
As Lark continued his recount of the story, he noticed that the blacksmith was interested only in the parts the Viscount was in.
After remembering that the Viscount was certain that Garma would help him as long as Lark mentioned his name, Lark’s curiously pondered on their relationship.
Lark finally asked, “What’s your relationship with the Viscount?”
“I’m his half-brother,” said Garma.
Seeing Lark’s surprise, the blacksmith added, “I threw away my nobility as soon as I took the hammer. I was born to become a blacksmith, and I will die as a blacksmith. The hammer and the furnace are the air I breathe.”
Garma’s eyes were filled with conviction. He was definitely a craftsman proud of his work.
For a moment, Lark felt that it was such a waste that such a passionate individual was working at Lion City and not at the capital. He must have had his reasons; Lark decided not to ask.
“Then, the mithril—”
“—I’ll do it.”
Lark smiled broadly. He was glad that the blacksmith agreed to his request easily, just like Zacharia stated. Although it was possible to create weapons by smelting iron using magic, the same was not true for mithril. Lark would need a blacksmith capable of handling mithril in order to forge weapons made out of it.
“What kind of weapon do you want?” said Garma. “With that amount, it’ll be possible to create a sword and a spear.”
Lark took out a parchment and showed the weapon’s design to the blacksmith. “This one.”
Garma was surprised. It was neither a sword nor a spear.
A cube with peculiar intertwining symbols engraved on them. The inside was hollow, as though meant to contain a certain item. Furthermore, it was designed in a way that made it possible for the cube to break into eight smaller pieces.
Garma had been a blacksmith his entire life, but this was the first time he’d seen such a peculiar design.
“This is?” Garma could not understand what the item was for.
“A medium,” said Lark. “I can always buy swords made of iron, but I might not get my hands on mithril again. It would be a waste to use them to forge common weapons.”
“A medium,” repeated the blacksmith.
“I’m sure you’ve seen the towers protecting this city from the monsters of the lake,” said Lark. “Think of it as a smaller, portable version of them.”
Garma easily understood what this meant. He stared at the blueprint. Indeed, the base of the towers resembled the one drawn in this blueprint.
For the first time since they’d met, the blacksmith was flustered. “Is it really okay for you to give me this? What if I decide to sell this blueprint to the nobles? To the Magic Tower?”
Lark shook his head. “You’re someone the Viscount trusted.” Lark sipped his water and added, “And someone like you, who has spent all his life as a blacksmith, wouldn’t let such an opportunity pass by. It’s not every day you’ll get the chance to work on an item capable of rivaling the magician’s towers, right?”
Lark trusted in his ability to judge people. This grumpy old man probably wouldn’t even tell other people he’d met Lark.
The blacksmith took the blueprint then stared at the mithril. “The size?”
Lark tapped his head with a finger. “The size of a human head. How many can you make?”
The blacksmith fell silent for a moment. “Although mithril’s far stronger than iron, it’ll require at least two ingots to complete one of them, since I’ll have to engrave those symbols on the cube’s walls. There’s also this peculiar design I have to consider. I take it that it should be possible for a large cube to break into eight smaller pieces, correct?”
Lark nodded.
The blacksmith raised two fingers. “Two cubes. Twelve gold coins each. Give me half a month and I’ll deliver them to you personally.”
Lark looked at the blacksmith with eyes filled with interest. He was expecting that it would take him at least a month to finish, but to think that he was capable of finishing it in just two weeks—he was certainly a capable blacksmith. The price offered was also neither too cheap nor too expensive, considering the skills needed to finish this work.
Unfortunately, the number of ingots at hand was limited. Lark wasn’t sure if he could get his hands on them again any time soon, considering their rarity. But this amount of metal should be enough to create his desired magic item. Creating the cube wouldn’t be possible with just any metal.
Lark grinned. “Perfect.”
After their meeting, Lark bought a cheap iron sword from Garma’s shop and went back to the inn. Morning came and their group set out for Blackstone Town.
***
The entire Blackstone Town was in an uproar upon the arrival of Lark and his men. It seemed that the news of their victory had already spread even to this remote place, as banners hung on the streets and everyone was in a festive mood.
“Young Master!” Gaston willed back the tears in his eyes. “I’m really glad that you’re safe!”
More than a thousand citizens of Blackstone Town cheered as Lark and his men passed through the main road leading toward the Central Plaza. Lark could see several unfamiliar faces. They also passed through several newly built residences, and there was even a newly opened tavern near the Central Plaza.
The entire town was bustling with life. A stark contrast to the dreary and hopeless atmosphere it had almost a year ago.
“It feels like the population of Blackstone Town doubled in number,” said Lark.
“Tripled,” corrected Gaston, his voice filled with pride. “We have a little over three thousand people living in Blackstone Town now.”
Lark was surprised. He expected the immigrants to be five hundred at most. It seemed that their recruitment notices in the cities were more effective than he’d thought.
Well, it was to be expected, considering the monthly salaries they’d offered.
“Young Master,” said Gaston. “We’ve managed to fill the job vacancies, and we’ve also recruited almost a hundred new soldiers. But at this rate, we’ll run out of gold in the treasury. The remaining funds are only enough to pay everyone’s salaries for the next two months.”
This was expected. After all, Lark made sure that the town’s development wouldn’t be halted, even in his absence. Infrastructures were being built left and right concurrently. And they did not stop with the recruitment of helping hands for the mines, farmlands, and for the security of Blackstone Town. There was also the free food they’d been giving out, at least until the harvest season arrived.
“I met Big Mona before coming back here,” said Lark. “I’ve collected the rent for the towers at Lion City. There’s also the reward from His Majesty too. Do not halt our projects. Once Blackstone Town becomes self-sustainable, everything will eventually come back to us in the form of taxes.”
The large-scale project of building several residences was eating away over a hundred gold coins from the treasury each month. But over time, it would also become one of the biggest sources of revenue for Lark’s territory.
“Of course.” Gaston bowed h
is head. “As you wish.”
“The status of the northern farmlands?”
“We’ve started the second batch of harvest last week. The farmers are working on them even now as we speak.”
Lark smiled. It was good news. After several months of arduous work, they were finally reaping the fruits of their labor.
The amount of wheat in the northern farmland was enough to feed even a major city. With Blackstone Town’s current population, there would definitely be a surplus. It meant an additional source of funds for their territory.
“The granaries?” said Lark.
“Ready to use,” said Gaston. “Sir Silver Claw built them near the mansion. And just like you’ve requested, it’s almost five stories tall.”
“I’ll leave the harvest in your hands, Gaston. It should be possible for us to store a year’s worth of wheat in the granary. This way, our people won’t die of hunger during winter. For the excess, coordinate with the merchants from Lion City. I’ve already told Big Mona about this.”
While this conversation was ongoing, Mikael—currently disguised as a coachman—listened. He was stunned upon seeing the developments the town underwent during the time they were away. And now, it seemed that the Lord of Blackstone Town had also solved the food problem.
The other city lords were currently struggling with filling the bellies of their subjects since it hadn’t even been a year since the last Black Famine. It was hard to imagine that a town like this, situated in the middle of the wilderness, had managed to produce so much wheat that they’ll be selling the excess to the nearby territories of the Kingdom.
When they finally entered the mansion, Lark introduced the people clad in hooded cloaks.
“Gaston, this is Her Highness,” said Lark, “Princess Esmeralda. Youngest daughter of His Majesty. Behind her are her knights.”
Princess Esmeralda and her knights pulled down their hoods. They didn’t bow or salute, but they acknowledged the butler with their eyes.
Gaston fell silent. He probably hadn’t expected the young master to bring a woman home, moreover a royal at that.
Gaston bowed his head at the princess. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.”
The butler faced Lark. He carefully asked, “Young Master, does His Majesty know… that the princess is here?”
The butler was worried that the princess had eloped with the young master. If that was true, then they would be soon facing the wrath of the royal family. Gaston shivered at the thought.
“Don’t worry. The princess is here under the orders of His Majesty. What did His Majesty call it? Cultural exchange training?” Lark chuckled at the stupid name.
The princess’ face flushed slightly, but she kept her silence. She also thought that it sounded ridiculous.
Lark noticed the confusion within the butler’s eyes, but he did not elaborate further. He did not mention that the king asked him to marry the princess—and that he refused the offer.
It would only add unnecessary commotion, something Lark did not wish for at the moment. Some words were better left unsaid, Lark thought.
“And this is Chryselle,” Lark introduced Chryselle to the butler. “Although temporary, she’s my newest disciple.”
Gaston and Chryselle locked eyes with each other.
Chryselle smiled at the butler and lightly bowed her head. “Pleasure to meet you, Sir. I’ll be staying at Blackstone Town for the moment. I hope we can get along.”
The red-haired woman’s every movement was filled with elegance and grace. Gaston was sure that she was a High Noble. The only question was from which family.
Gaston bowed his head. “It’s also a pleasure to meet you, Lady Chryselle.”
Gaston said to Lark, “We’ve prepared a banquet for the Young Master and his men. Please, this way.”
Gaston led the group toward the grand hall of the mansion. The large wooden table was filled with several delicacies and bards played next to the staircase. Lark noticed that this feast was more extravagant than usual. Last time he checked, there were no bards in Blackstone Town. They must have been from Lion City, or from other nearby territories.
Once everyone was inside the grand hall, Gaston signaled the servants. On cue, a large banner fell down the ceiling.
Lark’s eyes widened upon reading the words written on it.
Congratulations on your victory against the Empire, Young Master.
And
Happy Seventeenth Birthday.
Lark didn’t even know it was his birthday. He had no idea since he did not inherit the memories of the previous owner of his body.
His disciples—Anandra, George, Austen, and Chryselle—stared at him. They didn’t know that it was the birthday of their master, and they hadn’t prepared a single gift. Even the princess cast glances his way every now and then.
The servants cheered, and the soldiers soon followed suit. The entire grand hall was filled with a celebratory mood. Everyone kept greeting the young master.
Seventeen was considered an adult in this world. It was one of the most important events in one’s life not only for nobles but even for commoners. No wonder the grand hall was filled with luxurious delicacies.
“It’s been three days since your birthday,” said Gaston. “But since you were not yet here, we decided to postpone the celebration until today. Happy birthday, Young Master.”
Gaston looked at Lark as though looking at his own son. The old man was smiling gently, his face filled with wrinkles. He had been taking care of Lark since his birth. Gaston never had a son, nor a wife. To the old man, Lark was his family. This was why he chose to follow Lark all the way here, even after he was exiled by the duke.
Gaston handed Lark a small wooden box.
“It’s not much, but please accept the gift of this old man.”
Lark opened the box and took out the necklace inside. It was made of silver and a small green gemstone was attached to it. Although it was probably not that expensive, this was the first birthday gift Lark had received since taking over this body.
Lark was filled with various emotions but decided not to show it on his face. He smiled broadly. “Thank you. I’ll be sure to cherish this gift.”
That night, Lark’s group ate and drank merrily until midnight.
CHAPTER 4
The next day, Lark gathered the officials of Blackstone Town inside the mansion. Several people sat in the room. A medium-sized map of the region was plastered on the wall.
Lark looked at all the people gathered.
The officer in charge of the Southern District, including the livestock and the umami salts—Pico.
The head mason of Blackstone Town and the officer in charge of the Eastern District—Silver Claw.
The head of the farmers—Oliver.
The head miner—Cooper.
The so-called scholar and current teacher of the soldiers—Melody.
The captain of the Blackstone Soldiers—Qarat.
And finally, Lark’s butler—Gaston.
These men had been supporting Blackstone Town for almost a year now, and they had continued to do so even after Lark left for the war. Although not everyone was talented, they all held the best interest of the town in mind. Lark was sure of this.
Lark cleared his throat. “First, I’d like to thank everyone for managing the town while I was away. I’ve already been briefed by Gaston beforehand regarding the developments the town underwent during my absence.”
The butler nodded at the young master’s words.
“I gathered all of you here today for several reasons,” said Lark. “First, to hear your reports, the status regarding your assigned regions. Second, to make some important announcements, particularly about the direction Blackstone Town is going to take in the future. And third, to allocate an appropriate budget to each department.”
Lark looked at the dark-skinned man across the room. “First, let’s hear from the Southern District.”
Pico was obviously
terrified of the idea of giving a status report before everyone. He stuttered, “A-After the snow melted, we planted more Loi Plants as planned. C-Currently, we’re able to produce around half a kilo of umami salt each day. Just like the Young Master said, it’s possible to store the salt for months, as long as it’s kept away from insects and bugs.”
Spices were expensive in this era and the price of ordinary salt was high. It was no wonder that even in major cities, the food seemed bland compared to that served back in the Magic Empire.
“I’ve already spoken with a few local seamstresses,” said Lark. “We’ll pack the salt into smaller bags. The supply is limited, so we’ll aim for higher prices by using exquisite packaging aimed to attract the nobility and by advertising it as a limited item. Judging by the food in Lion City and the capital, I’m confident that umami salt will become a big hit once introduced to the local market.”
Pico gained more confidence upon hearing the young master’s words. He hadn’t expected the umami salt to hold this much significance in their acquisition of funds.
“The Poultry Farm?” said Lark
Pico cleared his throat. “We finished the construction of the coops two months ago. The device introduced by the young master was simply amazing. We’ve been hatching almost a hundred eggs each day and even after selling the chickens to our local market, there are still enough to export to Lion City.”
“Good work.” Lark nodded. He looked at everyone in the room and said, “I’m sure all of you are aware of this already—our priority is the local market, the market of Blackstone Town. The nearby territories are secondary. This is especially true now that we’re getting an influx of immigrants from the city and the other towns and villages in the nearby territories. Our people are our greatest asset in developing this town, and to retain them, we’ll have to make sure there’s ample and affordable food in the local market.”
“Yes, Young Master!” the officers replied.
Lark looked at the document he held in his hand. He spoke to the head mason, “Silver Claw. I’ve seen the newly built tavern in the Central Plaza. Impressive as always.”
Silver Claw smiled. “Thank you, Young Master. The second floor’s an inn, catered to travelers. With Blackstone Town’s current growth, there’s no doubt that people will come flocking in the future. We already have several travelers coming from Lion City. The tavern and inn have been generating a steady flow of income these past few weeks.”