The moment he took the parchment I offered was a silent reconciliation instead of a handshake.
Our fingers, which had previously pointed in different directions at the crossroads, eventually pointed not to a formed path but to a way overgrown with weeds.
Believing without a doubt that our first step, which refused to follow in someone else’s footsteps, would become a new option for those who would follow, we took that first step.
It was a grand first step akin to deciding to leave the level rice fields to prospect for jewels in the wasteland.
Once everything was decided, time and space moved swiftly.
The construction commenced, and the workers who had been resting in Luna were massively deployed to build the temple lodgings.
Martin had swiftly ordered the construction materials through our main supplier the day before,
and today, as the materials arrived in Luna, the workers started moving them to the front of the Artemis Temple.
I stood in front of the temple from early morning, scanning the materials piled behind my lodgings before moving toward the main gate.
The workers, carrying transportation tools resembling wheelbarrows, ascended the mountain in a long line like ants,
and suddenly, curiosity struck me about how far this line extended. I stood on the slope and looked down. The procession seemed endless.
Most strikingly, the workers carrying enormous logs, taller than 2 meters, with the help of ropes looked like sedan chair bearers escorting an emperor’s convoy.
“What are you gazing at so intently, Priest?”
“Ah, Mr. Martin.”
At the sound of my name, I turned around to find Martin standing there in sturdy safety gear just like the workers.
He looked like he hadn’t slept for an hour over the past two days—his beard was thick, and his eyes were sunken.
Yet, his eyes sparkled like never before—full of dreams and excitement for the creation of something new.
In my mind, the radiant expression of Martin now contrasted sharply with his deflated demeanor of yesterday. Without realizing, a smile crept onto my face.
Seeing me smile, Martin tilted his head curiously.
Instead of answering, I pointed my finger down the slope at the long line of workers.
“I was just admiring the large number of workers.”
“Well, since the materials need to be carried up the mountain, we have employed about twice the usual workforce.”
“Twice…?”
“That’s right. Slightly over 200.”
Martin placed his design plans and clipboard back into his bag as he approached me.
Up close, his face appeared even gaunter.
When I offered him some almonds, he immediately accepted and popped them into his mouth.
“It seems like the labor costs are considerable.”
“Indeed. Transporting materials is tough, but carrying them uphill is even harder. So, we’re paying three times the usual rate.”
“Three times?”
“Yes. Thirty silver per day.”
Thirty silver for 200 people means approximately six thousand gold coins are spent on labor costs daily.
Even though the number of employed workers will decrease once all materials reach the temple,
upon hearing the actual costs, I couldn’t help but admit that the 300 gold coins Martin had initially requested was quite reasonable.
Martin, noticing my surprised expression, chuckled nervously and rubbed his nose.
“Haha, but even this three times is on the cheaper side. I was prepared to pay four times the wage due to the high-intensity labor of climbing the mountain, but everyone readily agreed upon hearing it’s for the temple lodgings.”
“Why would they agree so readily?”
Martin paused for a moment, then pointed at me.
“It’s because of Priest Ark, they say.”
“Me?”
“Yes. This is evidence that everyone holds gratitude for how you have governed Luna with excellent wisdom until now.”
“Ahaha, you flatter me too much.”
“Absolutely not. Look.”
Martin pointed again at the numerous workers moving like an endless ant line, continuing,
“Acquiring over 200 workers is no small feat. Even with good wages, it’s rare to gather so many people in such a short time.”
“…Thank you.”
The workers seem to treat carrying construction materials as if they’re building their own homes.
No matter how their sweat might sting their eyes, they ascend the mountain without rubbing them once.
Strikingly, not a single person complains about the hardship of the work.
After all, it’s a demanding task to carry stone, soil, and logs up a mountain.
On reflection, even triple the usual wage wouldn’t easily motivate anyone to undertake this high-intensity work.
As this realization dawns on me, I feel the workers’ intentions slowly seeping into my heart, warming it.
“If that’s the case, we must succeed in constructing the lodgings to honor their intentions.”
“Certainly. I, too, am always ready to learn anew.”
Last night, we had an extensive discussion about the traditional heating system, the Ondol.
Despite his initial skepticism after agreeing to my proposal out of a spirit of challenge,
he was impressed by the logical construction and principles of Ondol when I explained it thoroughly.
Since then, he’s been following me from morning to ask questions about construction whenever the opportunity arises.
Apparently, Martin believes I’m a hidden expert in architecture and interior design,
but unfortunately, I know next to nothing about construction. I wish he’d stop clinging to me.
With that, I redirected my steps towards the site where the foundation work for the lodgings was underway.
I descended towards the pines and began directing Martin and the workers.
“We need to create pathways for the heat. Like this, in a branch format.”
Using the central pathway that passes through the rectangular floor as a benchmark, branch-like pathways lead into each individual room’s flooring.
Of course, the smoke pathways in each room are designed in an S-shape to maximize length and retain heat for a longer period.
“Additionally, if we create a circulation pathway on the outer edges for the heat to easily escape from the rooms, it will keep the outer walls of the house warm as well as each room.”
I walked around the construction site, indicating the areas where the pathways would be formed with my finger, eventually stopping at the chimney’s designated location at the back door.
Martin followed my shadow closely and began roughly sketching the pathway with a shovel.
Martin quickly understood it, comparing it to bringing water into rice paddies, and seemed excited at the prospect of learning something new.
If that excites him, it might be problematic.
“And at the entrance to each room’s heat pathway, we need to place sliding barriers and install levers upon completing the flooring.”
“Why do we need such complicated barriers if the heat is supposed to evenly spread?”
“Because of heat efficiency.”
We install levers to open and close pathways, minimizing the waste of thermal energy.
What’s the point of heating an empty room?
Central heating in standalone houses can be costly to maintain.
Instead, individual heating delivers warmth precisely where it’s needed, achieving both cost-effectiveness and efficiency.
This is precisely the wisdom of our ancestors in the Ondol system,
enhanced with my modern technology—an arranged version of the Ondol.
“Indeed! If we can direct the heat only to the necessary places through thermal barriers, the room temperature will rise more quickly.”
“Yeah. And in the near future, I intend to use these lodgings primarily for my secretary.”
Summoning Martin with a gesture, we moved to the location designated for the fireplace to the right of the main gate.
I decided to designate this spot directly opposite the hearth as the bathing area, roughly sketching it on the ground with a stick.
“Do you have a particular reason for thinking of this place separately as a bath area?”
“While the other rooms will be heated through heated flooring, this area is not only heated by the heat from the hearth but will also have direct exposure to fire.”
“You don’t mean…”
“Yes. Placing a hot bath directly above the hearth could be quite hot. I’m only concerned that it might boil us like roasted chicken. Haha.”
I added a light joke to the explanation, but Martin didn’t seem to catch the humor.
With every new understanding of the Ondol’s principles, Martin’s admiration for its subtlety deepened, and he continuously exclaimed in awe.
Like a diligent scribe, Martin took meticulous notes on his notepad without missing a single word.
After a moment of thought, he suddenly pointed to the fireplace location with his pen.
“Don’t you think it would be better if the fireplace, where the fire is detached, was built a little lower than the heat pathways?”
“Why’s that?”
“Doesn’t hot air and smoke rise? By building it lower like that, the hot air and smoke will enter the pathways completely, filling the Ondol floor without rushing out.”
“You’re right. Please proceed with that.”
Not only that.
Because the hearth is further from the floor, the temperature inside the bath will also decrease slightly.
Sure enough, the chief architect is different.
Once he understands the principles of the Ondol, he excellently overlays the remaining details with his knowledge.
“Alright, we’ve set the blueprint.”
“Good. Shall we grab a shovel then?”
Martin and I took off our outer clothes and joined the work.
Thus, in five days, we built a single-story Ondol-equipped studio lodging.
The next morning,
After briefly celebrating the completion with the Artemis Temple staff and just as everyone was about to personally experience the Ondol’s efficiency,
Martin, who had earlier informed us of his delayed arrival, approached us respectfully guiding a woman.
This person is…
Could it be?
