Chapter 142
Chapter 142
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 142
Chapter Title: The Fledgling That Doesn't Know Its Master's Heart
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"Open the sluice gate."
"Understood!"
'Perfect timing with the high tide.'
The Neruman salt flats, broader than any salt pan in Korea.
When the tide comes in, they block the sluice gates, then open them to let clear seawater flow through channels into the inner sections. From there, it moves through divided compartments where fine salt crystals form.
Whiiiiiing!
The control room at the central sluice gate, the most vital point of the salt flats.
Magic operated the opening and closing of the gates, with a mana-handling knight always stationed there.
Ziiiiiiiing.
The knight infused mana into the central control crystal as ordered.
A Tier-3 magic stone lit up, activating the magic circle.
Roooooooar.
The moment the high tide peaked.
The gate opened, and a massive volume of seawater roared toward the lower salt pans, surging through the concrete channels.
"Open all the salt pan gates!"
He channeled mana and issued the command to the soldiers waiting in front of the pans.
Unlike the central gate, these were sturdy wooden gates that could be opened and closed.
Creeeeeak.
Over a hundred soldiers opened the wooden gates connecting to the channels.
'Impressive!'
It was my design, but completed without a single error—a massive salt flat.
Seawater rushing through the wide channels began filling the pans from the front, one by one.
In about an hour at most, the pans would be perfectly filled.
Given Neruman's arid spring with almost no rain, salt would pile up thick in just a few days.
'Now all that's left is raking in all the continent's money. Heh heh heh.'
Not just the salt flats—the wheat sowing continued nonstop.
The Dravilt who'd earned merits in battle worked tirelessly, turning over soil across Neruman.
Where there were no Dravilt, oxen and horses pulled plows to finish the fields.
With the might of the 180,000-strong labor corps and the united efforts of the territory's people, we'd create about three times more farmland than last year.
Those fields would be sown with seeds of holy-water-treated grains that grew healthier and faster than any weed.
'This year, we'll sow wheat twice—spring and fall. The territory's grain yield will be beyond imagination.'
I planned to build granaries in every village.
Granaries preserved with magic circles at low temperatures.
Even without farming, we could stock enough to feed everyone heartily for two years.
"This is an important place in the territory. Guard it thoroughly."
"Understood!"
Dozens of knights and hundreds of soldiers patrolled the salt flats' perimeter.
Once our territory's salt hit the continent's markets, spies would come in droves.
To block them, security had to be ironclad.
Of course, even if they figured it out, they couldn't produce cement, so it was all for naught.
'The salt flats are set. Next up...'
The next patrol spot: the ongoing eastern road construction site.
'Narmias...'
The elite elf workers dispatched to Neruman's construction sites on the Grand Elder's orders.
Among them, Narmias worked hardest, treating it like her own affair.
I caught glimpses of her during patrols every few days.
'Just thinking of her makes me feel guilty.'
She always showed pure, selfless love, only receiving in return.
Thinking of her noble devotion, I mounted Bebeto's back.
To see the beautiful elf sweating for my sake today as well.
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Rumble rumble ruuuuumble.
Hiiiing...
A barren land suddenly flattening and hardening solidly.
Even with blindfolds on, the horses pulling carts of cement and sand reacted sensitively to the spirits' storm.
'Not much longer now.'
Road construction, the top priority for territory development.
Roads were now reaching the eastern reaches, where even soldiers couldn't approach until recently.
'Dwarves' skills are something else.'
We started with a few hundred, but since prisoners had to rotate monthly, we pulled out more dwarves.
Using them, we built sturdy carts.
Set up temporary magic forges to melt iron, and they whipped up molds for iron wheels and even leaf springs to keep carts intact.
We mobilized all: sturdy supply wagons bought from Rubis Merchant Group, recovered from battles, and territory-made ones.
Thousands of them.
Long lines of carts waited even now.
Thud thud thud thump.
Carts laden with cement and sand flew through the air.
Wind spirits lifted them like playing with marbles, dumping into the road molds.
'Even returning just these guys would set us for life.'
Building hundreds of kilometers of highway normally took years.
But with spirits, the timeline shrank dramatically—and profits soared accordingly.
"Sequell, pour the water please."
The elves, now perfect road workers.
They divided labor meticulously with spirits, pushing the work forward.
"You're here..."
'Narmias.'
Landing Bebeto, she approached before I knew it.
Her once pale face had tanned healthily from daily sun exposure.
"Isn't it tough?"
A soft smile was her reply.
She'd changed.
Narmias and the elves—no longer sickly chickens from their village, they radiated healthy vigor.
'What am I supposed to do when you look at me like that...'
Her clear, coral-reef eyes silently met mine.
If not for the crowd, I'd reward her efforts with a deep kiss, but too many eyes.
'Come to think of it, she was my first bedmate...'
Recently, I'd shared my bed(?) with Rocco Roya and Countess Irene, but before that, I'd spent a night in Narmias's room.
Though "bedmate" was a stretch—drunk blackout, no memory, no way I'd admit it.
"Spring seems to have come early this year."
I turned from her face to the endless plains, where grass and nameless flowers took root.
The untainted Kallian Continent, free of man's pollution.
I flung open my lungs, greedily inhaling the spring-charged air.
"The world... is truly beautiful."
Narmias, following my gaze, spoke in an excited voice of its beauty.
Sixty years frolicking in that cramped elf village.
It must be.
A caged bird pales next to one soaring free—the vast nature's peace was enough to amaze her.
"To me, you're more precious and beautiful than all that."
'Whoa...'
Even I couldn't control that line—cooking oil slicked with butter.
"Thank you... for looking at someone as lacking as me..."
Rustle.
Ignoring the stares, she gently leaned her head on my arm.
Whirrrrr.
A breeze raced from the distant plains.
Swish.
It arrived, playfully tousling her silver hair with its blue sheen.
'Ah...'
Her hair carried a deep spring scent wafting to my soul.
Narmias's natural fragrance, erasing who I was, who she was.
A smile tugged my lips.
Happiness.
Not some distant thing—I realized it again.
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"You worked hard today."
"What are you saying? Thanks to you all, Neruman's thriving—hardly work..."
Humans were truly enigmatic beings.
Under guard, they showed hostility and defiance.
But treat them like Neruman soldiers, and Raviter prisoner soldiers blurred home from away.
Provide equal meals and rest as I ordered, and they worked diligently like their own cause.
Even now, exchanging "good work" with Neruman soldiers, showing camaraderie.
"I'll drop by later for a drink."
"Sounds good. We'll handle the snacks."
Neruman soldiers and folk were no different.
Enemies invading their land just recently—now treated like neighbors without reserve.
'Shame. With them, Neruman's growth would skyrocket.'
Everyone had eyes, ears, and brains to think.
Give them weapons freely for monster hunts, top potions for the wounded—they started believing, one by one.
Mingling with locals and soldiers, hearing of Neruman life, they grew envious.
Raviter prisoners earned 1-3 silvers monthly, forced service over five years.
Neruman soldiers? Golds, dwarf-forged weapons even knights struggled for, free food, lodging, taxes waived—they wavered.
'To boost population, need young men. Neruman's gender ratio is critically imbalanced. Need tens of thousands of adult males.'
Many men died in monster wars and Temir clashes.
Of over 500,000 people, women topped 300,000.
"Males" were mostly elders or kids—few adults.
War skewed female-heavy inevitably, but this was severe.
'Bait's laid. Now wait.'
Many mercenaries settled with families.
And among 180,000+ Raviter soldiers, some would stay.
Neruman: where people lived humanely.
Fools would pass it up.
"Truly amazing."
'Irene.'
Landed Bebeto at Sky Squadron, headed to Denfos walls.
Eavesdropping on outer talks with enhanced mana-hearing, a woman's scent rode the wind.
Then it thickened—Countess Irene appeared.
'Missed me, huh. Heh.'
She'd followed from Sky Squadron, pretending otherwise, yet came to the walls with something to say.
"How did you think of this? Using enemy troops to clean out your foes, earning their trust too... Kaiyer, you're terrifying."
Her sincere words brimmed with respect.
"Just living diligently—Heaven's opportunity."
Modesty didn't suit me.
"That's skill too. Anyone could do this? Who'd believe those merry feasters in tents outside are prisoners, not Neruman soldiers."
Nothing relieves labor stress like food and drink.
Sunset halted work; prisoners returned to tents.
Ample ingredients for feasting.
Liquor limited, supplied via friendly Neruman soldiers.
Now, massive tent clusters beyond Denfos walls wafted savory meat and soup smells.
Looked like a Boy Scout picnic.
Some prisoners even fished the river.
Still cold, but baths provided—river access guaranteed.
Robert River purified daily upstream with holy water—no aquatic monsters.
Seeing fish leap? Tempting to fish.
Freedom till late night (not all night) allowed such leisure.
But not absolute.
Thousands of soldiers watched from walls against provocations; city entry banned.
Self-elected centurions, chiliarchs, and dispatched knights monitored subtly.
They knew upper officers cooperating with Neruman couldn't return home.
Empire wouldn't spare them.
"What's that castle called? Rivals Bazran Imperial City's scale, built in a month..."
No official name yet.
My mansion-in-progress, called Neruman Great City.
Neran Temple's spire already peeked, gleaming golden under moonlight.
'All that? Money.'
Golds from Rubis and small merchants.
Purchases in gems or gold-backed plaques; some sales in gold.
Alloy gold (20-30% pure), stockpiled for this.
Melted and coated bricks gold.
Less than thought.
But huge temple—tens of thousands gone already.
"No name yet. Irene, suggest one?"
"Really?"
Her eyes sparkled at my words.
'Hmm...'
Distance now one meter.
Silver-haired fairy gazed hotly.
'Shouldn't...'
Kissed her forehead; lately, arm-pillowed together.
Closer than expected.
'Body's a fantasy.'
Shed air plate armor for light knight garb.
Her slender, ripe figure filled my eyes.
Gulp.
Dry swallow escaped.
'Arghhh!'
Her scent and allure stirred male instinct.
Rustle.
My hand rose unconsciously to her shoulder.
Flinch.
Tremble.
She flinched, quivering under my hand on her shoulder.
'Aw, whatever.'
Not our first rodeo—arm pillow already.
Let emotions guide.
'Big sis or not—so lovely.'
Shoulder to arm, she softly closed eyes.
My instincts—not Bebeto's fault—moved to steal the fairy's red lips.
'Hm?'
Cornering the wall, a woman stood frozen, catching us mid-move.
'Ah, Isis...'
Princess Isis gaped wide-eyed at nearing me and Irene.
'Tch...'
Regret sighed inwardly.
Irene's kiss still forbidden.
"H-Haha. Got some dust here."
No man, bold or not, smooches another woman before a lady.
Awkward grin, I brushed dust from Irene's shoulder carefully.
"..."
Eyes reopened, round pupils on me—disappointed.
"Princess Isis, moon-gazing too? Come, best spot in the castle."
Called the awkwardly standing princess.
I'm young blood anyway.
Continent un-doomed, Irene unchanged—opportunities abound.
ROOOAR! ROOOOOAR!
Then Bebeto's joyful cry from Sky Squadron.
Night young, yet breeding-fervent—enviable fledgling.
Suddenly pondered learning black magic.
Unlike humans, Bebeto lived freely.
Wyvern ignoring master's heart, burning night away—worse than beast.
If erectile dysfunction magic existed, I'd learn it.
To make that dimwit bird-brain feel my plight fully.