Chapter 68
Chapter 68
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 68
Chapter Title: The Subjugation Begins
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"Is that possible?"
"You! What do you take us dwarves for? Just prepare the beer! We'll have it all done in a month!"
'Easy to please, as always. Heh heh heh.'
Dwarves with pride that pierced the heavens.
They'd looked at the blueprints I'd handed them and shouted with confidence.
"While you're at it, please separate it into modules for easy transport."
"No need to worry. But what's this for? Planning to smash some boulders?"
Essential equipment for making cement.
A massive crusher and mixer, fifteen meters tall and five meters in circumference.
It would be ideal to make it in one piece, but the dwarf cave entrance was too small, and it was too much for Bebeto alone to carry, so it had to be modular.
"Just make it, and I'll show you something amazing."
"Something that could surprise us dwarves?"
"If it's amazing, I request five hundred usable swords. If not, I'll treat you to fifty barrels of fresh honey beer!"
"Krahahahaha! Good! Good! As expected of a dwarf friend—bold as brass!"
The chieftain Kasiars burst into hearty laughter at my proposal.
"By the way, what happened with the Dravilts?"
"Tricky bastards. But who are we? The mighty sons of the rock! We've got one done over there."
'Yes! Thank you! Thank you!'
Dravilts, absolutely essential for Neruman.
I'd asked the Rubis Merchant Guild to gather every scrapped Dravilt from across the continent.
Dwarven-made Dravilts consumed too much mithril, making them unsuitable for farming.
'I've already got the plows ready. Now it's just practice.'
Spring was fading, summer's scent drifting over the Neruman Plains.
We had to plant wheat and other grains before summer hit.
With enemies all around, come autumn, we might not even be able to buy food for money.
"Then I'll leave it to you—hurry."
"No worries. Trust me! I'll crack the whip on my dwarves and get it done."
"Of course I trust you. We're not blood brothers, but the Luhalumer clan and I are kin, aren't we?"
"That's right! Brothers! Brothers! Umhahhahha!"
"Indeed. The Kaiyer and our clan are brothers!"
What a wonderful world if everyone were like them.
Sure, some might point fingers and say I was exploiting the dwarves, but that was just their opinion.
Dwarves rejoicing so genuinely wouldn't think that way.
No matter what anyone said, dwarves and I alike had warm hearts.
"Chieftain, how about a festival to celebrate?"
"Festival? Great! Kaiyer, what do you... Huh? Where are you rushing off to?"
"I forgot the beer fermentation time. I need to cool the fermented barrels with ice magic right now for the perfect flavor."
"I... see...."
Dwarves, helpless at the mention of beer.
I grabbed the hand of Armis, who was playing with the dwarf kids, and dashed toward the entrance.
The dwarves' idea of a festival.
It wasn't a festival—it was torture.
Brutal, you-die-I-die torture.
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Clank.
"W-what is this?"
I'd mobilized Bebeto and a few wyverns to attach plows to the Dravilts I'd modified and the ones the dwarves made.
Plows with seven blades.
Attached to the backs of the Dravilts.
"You'll see."
Just beyond Denfos lay untilled fields everywhere.
Even without monsters, the lack of farmers had left them abandoned.
On that vast plain stood a three-meter Dravilt harnessed to its plow.
'Time for a performance comparison.'
The dwarf-made Dravilts were upgraded versions of Master's blueprints with my additions.
Next to it was the old model.
Whirr.
I infused mana into both Dravilts, achieving mana synchronization.
Flash.
Mana flowed from the mana stones to the Dravilts, their bodies shimmering faintly.
"Go, my faithful servants! Charge across that wide plain!"
Kreeeeeen.
At the command, the Dravilts assumed running stances.
Clank clank!
The dwarf-made new model reacted first, taking steps forward.
Crunch.
The plow sank deep into the earth.
Clank clank.
The old model followed.
Cruuuunch.
In that instant, the new model Dravilt began charging across the plain as ordered.
"Woooah!"
"W-what the hell?!"
"Uwaaah!"
'Yes!!!'
Sir Sedrian, the Sky Knights, and Sir Derbal who'd followed me cried out in shock.
Cruuuuunch.
The Dravilts charged.
Harnessed with seven plow blades, they tilled the earth at human running speed—a terrifying sight.
The soil flipped deep in their wake.
Ready for immediate seeding, the rich earth exposed as the Dravilts raced gleefully.
The bipedal walking tractor made its debut on the Kaliyan Continent.
'I should donate one to Luna Village when I get time.'
Far better performance than expected left me satisfied.
Clatter clatter.
The old model managed only half the new one's output, but that was fine.
Even that outperformed ten horses pulling a plow.
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"Is this the place?"
"Yes, my lord. The miners say there's useless limestone buried here."
'Closer to Denfos than I thought.'
A massive mountain about three hundred meters tall along the mid-Robert River.
In these hills stripped for firewood with no large trees, limestone's distinctive color showed everywhere.
Crunch.
I infused mana into my sword and stabbed the mountain.
Rumble rumble.
Chunks of limestone tumbled down.
'Pure limestone. Perfect!'
Limestone was common on Earth too.
"Derbal, station troops here. I'll give you blueprints—use carpenters and blacksmiths to complete the building."
"Here, my lord?"
A place where they dismissed limestone as worthless rock.
But to me, it was invaluable.
"Other spots too?"
"Yes, my lord. Large deposits near the Rual Mountains."
"Gypsum too?"
"Of course. An open-pit gypsum mine not far away. But my lord, why seek useless minerals?"
"Derbal."
"Yes, my lord."
"Who am I?"
"My one and only lord, whom I respect and rely on above all!"
Sir Derbal answered briskly without hesitation.
"Watch. I'll show you a new era of magic engineering."
"Understood, my lord!"
'The dwarves will work day and night to keep their word. I feel a bit guilty exploiting their innocence, but if I succeed, they'll swim in a sea of beer.'
Without dwarves, elves, or anyone I'd met, I wouldn't be here today.
'Soon the rainy season.'
Sudden reassignment, battles, now lordship—chaotic months.
Short time, yet I was now master of Neruman.
"We're heading to the harbor."
"Yes, my lord!"
Plenty to do.
My dream was to pioneer not just inland, but the seas too.
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"Huu...."
Days flew by unnoticed.
I inspected the harbor's near-useless docks and breakwaters.
'A harbor with no seaworthy ships? Is it even a harbor?'
I'd seen harbors before, but never examined one like this.
'Holy water ready, pirates promised no attacks—just fish and we're set.'
Spring wheat planting was a bit late, but not critically.
Corn, potatoes, and such could go in now no problem.
And the sea teemed with nutritious fish.
Sea monsters scared folk off, but with ships, we could feed all of Neruman.
'Cement plant done, then subjugation. Finish defenses during the mid-summer short rains.'
Neruman rarely saw typhoons or floods unlike elsewhere.
Massive mountains blocked the wind.
But winters were cold.
Chilly northern winds brought snow to this four-season land.
Much preparation needed for the people's peace.
'Modding Dravilts lets non-mages, even knights with mana blades, operate them. Tomorrow, till Denfos lands properly.'
Knock knock.
Not too late, but evening.
Lost in thought, I missed the presence until the knock.
"Come in."
Creak.
The door opened cautiously at my permission.
'Armis?'
White leather shoes and white priest robe visible.
Armis entered with a fresh smile.
"I hope I didn't disturb your peace...."
"Haha, come in. I was just missing you, Priestess Armis."
"Huh?"
Her eyes widened at my words.
"I came to discuss something tomorrow."
"Y-yes...."
She blushed, her 'yes' tinged with disappointment.
'Coming late at night is risky.'
My reputation with her was good, but deep down, I was a black-hearted wolf.
A raging teen whose blood boiled like lava.
"You're incredible, Sir Kaiyer. Working tirelessly with such passion every day...."
Her eyes sparkled with admiration now.
"We all must cross the River Lute to the afterlife someday. Until then, I give my all each day, no regrets."
My lifelong philosophy.
Live diligently, outworking others before we go.
A family motto addendum under honesty.
Tigers leave hides, humans leave bank accounts named for heirs.
I wanted to add billions of pyeong of land.
"You make the simple yet hard seem joyful. I pray to Neran daily for the people, but sometimes want rest. You've never wasted time on yourself, from what I've seen. Truly admirable spirit."
"Oh, it's nothing...."
Her praise melted away my fatigue.
Not for others.
Just putting out fires on my turf.
For the people, sure.
But secondary to my survival plans.
I wasn't that noble.
Gulping dryly at her enchanting beauty now—hardly a paragon of virtue.
Instinct-driven human Kang Hyuk.
That satisfied me.
"Hehe, so what did you want to discuss?"
Her brown eyes sparkled with curiosity.
She'd closed the distance.
"Th-that is...."
Close enough to feel her breath.
Her neat teeth flashing in laughter dazed me like nightclub lasers.
Gulp.
Dry swallow.
Hand outstretched, she was within reach.
"I was thinking... what if we use holy power on the seeds? Neran is the goddess of mercy—won't blessed seeds grow well?"
"That makes sense. Holy power on seeds...."
She nodded at my words.
'Argh! Why do even her dark circles look cute?'
Like me, she burned through days fervently.
Dark circles camped under her fine eyes today too.
"Worth a test? If it works, Neruman folk could have a warm, full winter."
"I fully support it. Neran loves holy power for good deeds."
The seed holy disinfection idea blurted out.
Fertile soil meant weeds too.
Holy-infused seeds on such land? Something would happen.
"If you'd like, I'll escort you to the temple."
"Oh, no need. I can go alone."
"Haha, when else to chat with beautiful Priestess Armis? Shall we?"
"If you insist...."
Blushing to her neck at 'beautiful.'
'Whew....'
Disappointing, but fortunate.
No morning headline: 'Lord Overcomes Desire, Assaults Pure Priestess.'
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"Cavalry, charge!"
"Charge!"
Pwaaang! Pwaaang!
Neeigh!
Thud thud thud thud thud.
"Infantry, advance in attack formation!"
"Advance!"
Pwang pwang! Pwang pwang!
The signal horns echoed long across the plain.
March march march march!
Heavy-armored cavalry charged the forward orc village.
Behind, shielded infantry advanced in tight formation.
Kueee! Kueee!
Orcs surviving the arrow volley.
Brandishing crude weapons, they bared fangs, radiating feral killing intent at approaching human soldiers.
But only a few hundred.
Mana-sensitive soldiers and knights bolstered the cavalry—now knight-order strong.
Thud thud thud thud thud.
Cavalry charging with long lances, mana veils at tips yawning toward orc warriors.
Pbbbt pbbbt pbbbt.
Kueeeeeek!
No resistance.
In the wake of thickly armored horses and knights: orc blood and dying screams.
"All units, charge!"
As knights ravaged orcs, infantry got close-range charge order.
"Waaaaah!"
Morale-peaked soldiers roared, smashing flimsy barricades and storming the village.
Pbbbt pbbbt.
Kueeek!
Splaash.
"Kill every last one!"
No mercy.
Orcs' past atrocities in Neruman.
Not a human spared, corpses devoured.
Incompatible.
Pbbbt pbbbt.
Kuek!
Orc warriors trampled under hooves; arrowed ones, females, young skewered by infantry spears and swords in death rattles.
Orcs' end, rampaging freely since Bazran Empire's defeat.
Not long ago.
Thirty minutes after battle start, a thousand-orc village wiped clean.
'Impressive.'
I observed from atop Bebeto in the sky.
July sun scorching the piercing Neruman Plains.
A week into the mass subjugation.
Daily nonstop battles.
Last month, mustered troops from Orak Castle and Denfos into two elite legions, one-per-ten.
Short training, then combat.
Sweltering sun sapping heavy-armored soldiers' morale? No—burning life for their birthplace Neruman.
Unstoppable.
Ogres or trolls? Sky Knights turned them to target practice.
Orcs, goblins, knolls? Cavalry and infantry feasts.
Minimal casualties again.
Archers scorched first, then cavalry charged—few monsters left.
'A bit further to the old fortress.'
Busy month.
Taught controls for five old Dravilts and five new dwarf-made ones, tilled plains.
Plowed Denfos lands day and night.
Sowed seeds.
Late spring wheat, potatoes, corn, etc., gathered at Skywing Squadron runway, blessed by Neran.
Delivered to villages.
Few Dravilts, so beyond Denfos: traditional horse or man-power.
No complaints.
Safe sowing brought tears of joy to farmers.
'Denfos and villages guarded.... Issue is First Legion herding monsters fast and clean....'
Patrols and fortress reinforcements secured Havis Kingdom trade route.
Greedy Viscount Lukens valued his neck, fortified properly—no easy monster incursions.
On that base, monster drives began.
I zipped battlefields on Bebeto, commanding.
Upgraded imperial comm orbs to latest, embedded in helmet—80km glide range.
Swipe.
Mana-hand opened ear comm orb.
"Lord here. First Legion comms, respond."
"My lord! Command us."
Instant reply.
"Status?"
"Goblin village scorched clean, no issues."
"Good work. One-hour rest, then next site."
"Yes, sir!"
'Ow, my ears!'
'Ears ringing from that 'yes.''
All good, but too sensitive.
'Stabilize territory, blanket with comm orbs.'
Magic comm orbs like modern radios.
Stable empires/kingdoms wired whole lands.
Swift crisis grasp.
Important/far spots used messenger birds Lumicar.
'Cement plant building done by now?'
Subjugation-started cement factory.
Crushers, heaters needed, but magic simplified.
Magic defying 21st-century science.
Dwarf crusher: limestone in, instant ultrafine crush, heat, cool, gypsum/clay mix—one process.
Impossible without Master's Earth-science magic cement method.
'Time to check.'
Battle over, no need to stay.
Curious how outdoor dwarves fared.
No—needed prodding.
Days away: Rual Mountains foothills.
Rebuild old ruined fortresses there.
Cement essential.
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Clack clack clack.
'As expected of all-purpose laborers!'
Key parts prefabbed in dwarf village.
Bebeto et al. wyverns slaved, safely transported goods.
Dwarves came too.
Wyvern-back terrified them.
Made wood baskets like hot-air balloon gondolas, stuffed them in, flew here.
'What a sight.'
Not country bumpkins in Seoul—dwarves six per basket, screaming heads-down as ascent.
Then peeking out, cheering.
Short stature, ground-bound dwarves tasting sky's breeze? Rare.
Singing to winds and endless green plains.
Thus, about a hundred dwarf artisans thrown at cement plant.
More than Neruman's official smiths.
Remote, no dust-polluted residences—full steam ahead.
'Just need to finish the magic circle.'
I didn't slack.
Minus late-night flights with Armis, nonstop magic circles and strategy meets.
Nonstop grind.
Whoooosh.
Bebeto, busier thanks to me, auto-landed in clearing.
"Salute!"
Senior knights and soldiers saluted on landing.
Safest spot, but mid-plain.
Five hundred guarded plant.
"Welcome, my lord."
"Good work. Issues?"
"None!"
Young Neruman knight, newly dubbed, replied vigorously.
Utter loyalty.
Many would leap into fire on order.
Thud thud thud!
Oblivious dwarves hammering away.
'Amazing every time.'
Master craftsmen indeed—completing tough factory.
"Brothers! Take a break!"
"Ooh! Brother Kaiyer!"
"Wait a bit, almost done!"
Busy dwarves looked up, greeted boisterously.
Pure engineer spirits.
Even 'break' meant wiping sweat, pushing hard.
'Operational soon.'
Arms crossed, admired dwarf work.
'Impossible without magic.'
Called cement plant, but little mechanical vibe.
'Issue: mixing cement....'
Cement alone didn't solve all.
Mix sand, gravel for strength; formwork to hold before set.
But no manpower.
Decades war: few carpenters.
Even if, wood scarce.
Surrounding hills clear-cut; forests monster-held.
'Magic and spirits could work....'
Bulldozers, excavators ideal—but no.
My magic/spirits easier.
Whirr whirr.
'Hm?'
Mana buzz from belt-helmet.
Click.
Donned helmet quick, mana-hand to it.
"What is it?"
"M-my lord, emergency!"
"Emergency?"
"Temir bastards planning raid on Hayton Village!"
"What? Temir?!"
Unthinkable happened.
Nine wyverns at Orak Castle, twenty thousand troops—but if Temir committed...
"Fifty wyverns, three thousand troops, reports say."
"Gasp!"
Huge numbers, as feared.
Thud thud thud.
No more needed.
Rushed to resting Bebeto.
'Bastards!'
Even here, wyverns indispensable.
Without them, monster swarms meant casualties.
'Hold on just a bit! My knights!'
Three-to-one sure loss.
Orak's wyvern wing no standout mages/spirits.
Clash meant disaster.
Not wyverns—my flower-of-youth knights at risk.