Chapter 268: Act 35 – Expansion (16)
“Charles?”
Brendel nodded.
“…Of course, if there are artisans skilled in engineering in the city, you may want to keep an eye out for them,” he added after a moment. However, he didn’t harbor much hope for this suggestion since artisans who understand city building in this era are all renowned masters in engineering—Brendel himself even doubted that a remote place like Firburh would be a gathering of recluses and talented individuals.
This is not a novel, after all; situations like that of Master Berun are exceptional.
But actually, as Brendel spoke, he couldn’t help but feel a bit troubled. It’s one thing to build a fortress, especially a large one—let’s be honest, this isn’t like playing a game—where resource consumption is directly deducted from your inventory, and with a ‘beep~’ sound, a fortress appears in the vast forest.
Here, clay and stone won’t automatically ascend the walls; even a single brick must be burned in a kiln before it can be delivered to the construction site. Labor is not merely a simple data point, and if you just gather people together, they become a black hole consuming a large amount of food day by day.
How to manage and coordinate manpower is a specialized skill; although simply put, it involves maximizing the efficiency of one hundred people to perform as one hundred instead of fifty or even fewer, doing it is quite challenging.
While Brendel had experience in managing a small group, he was at a loss when it came to a quantity in the thousands or tens of thousands.
This is not war; first, you need to know what each person should do.
He did have a few outstanding candidates in mind—the artisan wizards from Bud, the mountain dwarves from Roland, or the earth goblins from Jotungrund. They are among the finest city builders in Vaunte.
However, the best is not always the most suitable. Aside from the artisan wizards from Bud, Brendel has no clue where to find mountain dwarves or earth goblins.
The mountain dwarves from Roland live in the northern reaches beyond Saint Ausoor, amidst snow-capped peaks; their presence is rarely seen in southern Erluin. As for the hill dwarves, there are plenty, but their distant relatives are brewing experts, which has little to do with city building.
As for the earth goblins, that goes without saying. The earth goblins underground in Jotungrund are a noble race, not only masters of city building but also one of the most combat-hardened races; they wouldn’t stoop to suffering in the barren surface world like Tagib.
And the only artisan wizards he could possibly find, those high-ranking, white-bearded elders of the Silver Alliance, Brendel has no hope they would think highly of him.
Those refined individuals are certainly no match for the unsophisticated ‘hicks’ he’s currently encountered. Brendel doubts that these People of Silver wouldn’t unintentionally deduce his identity as a transmigrator within a few exchanges.
At that moment, he had no additional thoughts. The matter can only be approached step by step; while no solution is currently available, as time passes and his strength increases, perhaps he will find alternative methods.
Therefore, he could only add, “Go ahead and do it; I believe in your abilities.”
This statement made the noble lady’s eyes light up, and she nodded seriously.
It was at that moment that a young man’s voice came from outside, “It seems like you called for me, my Lord?”
Not far away, Xi reflexively turned to the sound, just in time to see the black-robed Charles walking in from outside—this young Archmage had rarely appeared in front of others since that turbulent night; he seemed to have buried himself in that small room in the castle, seemingly oblivious to the world.
According to Charles’s explanation to Brendel, he was familiarizing himself with spells—after all, a novice can hardly become a master-level wizard overnight; some buffer time is definitely needed.
From the looks of it, however, this guy seemed to have been doing quite well. When Brendel saw him, the young wizard’s face was relaxed and even a bit spirited—proving that the outside world was indeed more interesting than his time spent in the graveyard.
Even spending all day cooped up in a small room didn’t seem to disappoint him.
“What brings you here?” Brendel asked, but he immediately noticed that Charles was not alone; a young man followed him.
Brendel recognized that young man—it was the only lucky or unfortunate survivor from the group of adventurers he met when he first arrived in Firburh, and Brendel remembered him as the string magic apprentice.
That young man had remained with this group ever since they took down Grudin, which puzzled Brendel. As far as he knew, this young man and his few companions came from a gentry background—although not powerful, they were at least of noble descent.
With such a background, there was really no need to mingle with this gang of mercenaries. According to Antinna, their group was politely referred to as rebels, though unflatteringly, they were just bandits ruling over a mountain stronghold.
One could only say that a genuine bandit group lacked individuals like him and the noble lady who understood the rules of the noble game.
Charles smiled slightly and approached the group. He bowed respectfully to Brendel. A wizard greeting a noble thus would surely startle onlookers, but the young mage still dutifully greeted, “My Lord.”
This action had already surprised the young man behind him.
The eternally expressionless young man, habitually dressed in a gray-blue robe, finally revealed an odd expression and glanced between the two: while Brendel was a Gold-tier Swordmaster, Charles was no less impressive, a young Gold-tier wizard, whose status is certainly far above that of a mere swordsman.
Even so, Brendel’s noble status was still relevant.
Antinna, holding a document next to Brendel, was unfazed, merely shaking her head as if to ignore it. Medisa and Xi had no knowledge of the social etiquette in this era, and one grew up in a mercenary environment, so they were far more composed than the young man.
“Actually, I’m here to request some funding,” Charles replied with a smile, scratching his head—you could imagine the look of a magus scratching his head in helplessness, even Xi flinched at this: “But first, it’s about sending money.”
“Sending money?” Brendel was taken aback.
“Let’s first talk about the funding matter since I know you’re usually more interested in bad news,” Charles quickly interjected. “About the matter you asked me last time, I thought it over, and it should be fine.”
Brendel then realized.
Originally, he intended for Charles to establish a council of spellcasters akin to the Tower of Stars and Moon—after all, Charles had effectively become the invisible leader of all spellcasters in his territory, and it would not be impossible to integrate the disparate wizard apprentices among the mercenaries.
Although it seemed rather daunting now, the long-term prospects were still considerable; not to mention the potential ability to contend with the Silver Alliance in the future, at the very least, they should not be inferior to the Black Tower wizards.
The only trouble was that it was unclear whether there were any relevant taboos around Charles inheriting the lineage of Black Tower wizards. Brendel was aware of the strictness with which wizards kept their knowledge systems confidential; when the Black Tower wizards splintered from the Silver Alliance, it nearly sparked a war.
Of course, that’s beside the point; Brendel had merely mentioned it casually back then and didn’t expect to receive a response today. But setting that matter aside for the moment, Charles’s line about ‘sending money’ genuinely caught him off guard.
What kind of trick is this guy playing? That was his first thought.
“Let’s talk about the second matter instead,” Brendel replied.
But Charles, smiling, reminded him, “My Lord, you seem to have forgotten the items temporarily stored with me?”
“What items?” Brendel was puzzled until he saw Charles pull out a painting from his dimensional bag—
“By Martha, it’s the painting of Princess Darkshine!”
Antinna’s eyes went wide, and the documents in her hand slipped to the ground as she couldn’t help but exclaim.
She immediately revealed a suspicious look: “This wouldn’t be a fake, would it?” She glanced at Charles and then at Brendel, thinking that with her lord and this magician’s nature, it might not be impossible.
But Brendel shook his head, “It’s genuine.” He recalled that this was an item they had casually stolen in Ridenburg; although it wasn’t exactly a glorious act, looking back now—it was indeed a brilliant decision.
Art from Darkshine is highly sought after in the collectibles market, fetching several million Tor as a price; while not a windfall, it would certainly solve a pressing problem.
However, such an item has no market in Firburh; to sell it for a good price, you must find the right place. At this moment, Brendel had a target in mind: the only free trade port in Erluin:
Ampere Seale—
He couldn’t help but think that it was indeed necessary for someone to check Ampere Seale; not to mention that the Baron of Firburh would inevitably establish trade relations with this place in the future. The complex power dynamics there are also enough to attract genuine political adventurers to invest.
Especially at this time, with various armies besieging, Brendel guessed that Ampere Seale must be bustling now.
With that thought, a confident smile appeared on his face.
…(To be continued. For more chapters and to support the author, please visit the site for genuine reading!)
