Chapter 92
Chapter 92
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 92
Chapter Title: Thank you, Elves
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"Cayer! Sir Cayer!"
The moment we returned to the Skywing Unit, Armis came running, calling my name.
*I feel unnecessarily guilty.*
I'd spent the night out, but here she was, blooming with a smile like an angel flying toward me.
"What happened?"
I dismounted Bebeto and looked at Armis, her face flushed red.
"They hatched! Hohoho, those guys hatched from the eggs last night!!"
"Those guys?"
"The wyvern hatchlings! The chicks hatched from the eggs you left at the temple."
*I completely forgot about them.*
The five wyvern eggs I'd received from the pirates.
I'd handed them over to Armis in a batch because they needed holy water to grow and hatch.
"Come on, quick. They're chirping like they're looking for Daddy—how adorable."
Armis delighted in the miracle of new life.
She grabbed my hand and dragged me to the temporary temple.
*Thanks, little guys.*
If the wyvern eggs hadn't hatched, Armis would've waited for me like a statue of longing for her lost husband.
*Five wyverns... what should I do with them?*
Wyverns needed years to mature enough for combat.
Their value had skyrocketed just from hatching, but I had no desire to sell them.
Rumble rumble rumble.
Squeak squeak squeak squeak.
Flutter flutter flutter.
*Whoa! What the hell are those chicken nuggets?!*
Lost in thought about how to handle them as I entered the temple, I spotted five chicken-sized creatures.
"Hohoho, so cute."
The chicken nuggets charged at Armis upon spotting her, giving me goosebumps, but Armis beamed with a huge grin.
"Kids, Daddy's here."
Flutter flutter.
Coo coo coo coo coo!
Kee kee kee kee kee!
As if understanding her words, the bizarre chicken-sized wyvern hatchlings rushed over and started gnawing at my cloak with their teeth.
*Damn it! Why the hell am I these birdbrains' dad?!*
It wasn't even a proper family tree—this could turn the Kang family into a bird lineage.
"If I'm Daddy, then Lady Armis is..."
"Me? Of course I'm Mommy. Why, don't you want to be Daddy?"
She casually called herself Mommy and asked if the Daddy role was burdensome.
"No! Not at all, never. Absolutely not. Haha, this one looks spirited like me."
Unlike the others, one chicken nugget flapped its wings furiously, trying to take flight.
I gently stroked its head.
Crunch!
"Gah!"
Suddenly, a sharp pain from my hand.
I'd removed my gauntlets out of courtesy upon entering the temple, and now this chicken-headed beast was chomping down on my fragile middle finger.
*You little shit birdbrain!!!*
If Armis weren't here, I'd toss it straight into a coop.
"Oh my, so spirited. Already playing with Daddy."
My finger throbbed, but Armis praised the hatchling's spunk over my pain.
"Haha, Lady Armis."
"Yes?"
"This must be the will of Nerua, the Goddess of Mercy."
".....?"
She blinked at me with her huge, doe-like eyes.
"Beings born from the gods' embrace. I'll donate them to the temple so the holy knights can use them later."
"R-Really?"
"Of course."
"Thank you! Thank you! Sir Cayer!"
Whoosh.
She kept thanking me profusely, then naturally threw herself into my arms.
*Whoa, this level of gratitude.*
No man returning from a night out to his faithful wife could feel more blessed.
I gently embraced Armis in my arms.
Squeak squeak squeak squeak!
Coo rumble rumble rumble!
The chicken nugget hatchlings made a racket beside me.
I heard nothing.
I was simply lost in the blissful sensation of the keeper-sized beauty in my arms.
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"Welcome, Lord Zamer."
"Haha, congratulations. Count Cayer de Neruman."
"Oh, it's nothing. Ahem."
Zamer, the head steward of the Rubis Merchant Guild, bowed his head deeply in congratulations.
He'd come leading the guild himself.
"Have a seat."
"Impressive. Every time I visit Neruman, it's changed so much... I've traveled the world, but I've never seen such a dynamic territory."
*Buddy, this is just the beginning. You ain't seen nothing yet.*
"Was the journey uncomfortable?"
"Well..."
He hesitated at the direct question.
Even as one of the continent's top five merchant guilds, they held a lowly position without much power.
It was clear that the Rubis Guild had faced some pressure.
Vazran and the Raviter Empire hadn't shown outright hostility yet, but the other guilds, magic towers, and even the Temple of the Goddess of Mercy had likely been giving them sidelong glances.
On top of that, the Habis Kingdom was surely acting prickly.
Zamer's reluctance to speak suggested the war had already begun in all but name.
"What's the atmosphere on the continent like?"
"Grave."
*Huh? It's really that serious?*
I could sense the tension ripening here, but Zamer's stern expression indicated it was worse than I'd thought.
"Is it because of me and Neruman?"
"No. Your lordship's actions are but a pebble tossed into a vast lake."
Without Smith, the informant I'd chased out like a dog, I lacked detailed intel on the continent.
Zamer provided it, ears perked.
"Then..."
"The continent will soon be engulfed in war. Decades without major conflict have allowed empires and kingdoms to amass immense military might internally. Noble numbers have saturated, and belligerent lords are emerging. Our guild concludes: continental war within a year at soonest, three at latest."
*Haa, one year...*
The difference between vague and concrete was exactly this.
"Guilds are stockpiling war goods in preparation. We're transforming into war merchants ourselves."
"What items dominate as war merchants?"
"War-related goods, of course. Primarily wyvern armor and banned items like blast spears; direct combat gear like warhorses, armor, weapons; logistics like food; and finally, slave trade."
Zamer outlined the big picture.
*Many will lose their homes.*
In this medieval-like continent, national wars meant lords marching to battle, which meant conscripting territory folk.
Defeat meant innocents enslaved and sold by victors' greed.
"Judging by the autumn wheat, Neruman's harvest looks assured this year. With yields like this, spring wheat and barley should exceed expectations. You won't need to buy food."
The sharp merchant had calculated yields in moments.
"Early war seems might-driven, but it drags into prolonged stalemate, where supplies like rations decide victory. Post-war, devastated farmlands take years to rebuild, spiking food prices. Your lordship knows best, but my advice: secure food at all costs."
"Thanks for the concern."
"No trouble. Thanks to you, the Rubis Guild's name echoes across the continent."
They'd profited handsomely from dwarf goods and relay trades.
*We'll know after full harvest, but this year's alone should self-sustain through next.*
Reports showed holy-water-treated seeds yielding double.
Fertile soil freed from pests let crops thrive.
"One thing I'd like to ask."
"Speak."
Zamer wore the merchant's trademark humble smile, his pale purple eyes meeting mine.
"Care to try salt trading?"
"Salt? Absolutely, we'd love to. Dwarf goods have fixed noble buyers, but salt sells out instantly. Lack of salt and food suppliers kept us from top-tier status."
He lit up at "salt."
"But why salt... don't tell me..."
He trailed off, gauging my reaction.
"We're planning salt production in the territory."
"Pardon? Salt? Neruman has no rock salt..."
"We have the sea."
"True, but sea salt production isn't just about the coast. Fuel for evaporating needs stable mountains—Neruman lacks that. Magic production costs too much to profit."
He knew his guild-level stuff.
"Let's discuss details next spring."
"Understood. I trust your lordship."
*He thinks it's a jackpot again.*
"And your lordship..."
"Yes, what is it?"
"Plenty of madir in these coastal waters. If time allows, could you...?"
*Tuna season's here already.*
We needed to catch and supply nobles continent-wide.
It took nearly a month last time.
The moon of Sephir, goddess of abundance and festivals, was next month.
"Got it. How much?"
"As much as possible. We've prepped ample magic freezers."
Zamer, anticipating my yes.
I grinned back at his beaming face.
Leftover tuna anyway.
If they bought at premium, thanks due.
*Long time since a tuna party?*
Bored waiting for elf news.
A week since returning from their village.
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*Alright, high tide time.*
My secret tuna-fishing method.
Armis's prayers every few days kept sea monsters away.
Nimble fishermen built small boats, fishing fervently.
*There, tuna school incoming!*
Two kilometers off harbor.
Hundreds of tuna leaped excitedly.
"Bebeto, let's go!"
Roooaaar!
Flutter flutter flutter.
Keeooo!
Wings spread wide, we dove atop the school, five gold wyverns following.
Beastkin, well-disciplined, controlled them perfectly.
"Chain Lightning!"
I hurled a 5th-circle Chain Lightning at the lead tuna.
Zing!
Magic born of my mana and will drawing nature's mana.
Blue sparks flickered midair, then a lightning orb streaked seaward.
Boom!
Crackle crackle crackle!
"Chain Lightning!"
"Lightning Cross!"
"Lightning Field!"
"Lightning Blade!"
"Lightning..."
5th-circle lightning spells chained from behind me.
Kaboom! Boom boom boom!
Crackle crackle crackle!
The calm sea flashed brilliant blue with electric sparks.
Crackle crackle crackle.
*Hoo! Impressive!*
5th-circle barrage blanketed 200 meters offshore.
Spectacular from above.
Thud thud!
Soon, massive fish bellies-up on the waves.
*Jackpot!!*
Monster-free, unpolluted seas teemed with fish—half water, half seafood.
Tens of thousands floated tideward.
*Time to lord it up proper.*
Thousands of citizens at shore.
I alerted Denfos folk to collect fish.
Crowds swelled.
*Another school!*
Tuna flopping cluelessly toward us.
Roooaaar!
I yanked Bebeto skyward.
Madir, noble delicacy.
A gift for all Neruman folk.
I was always the cool lord.
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"Eat up, kids. Daddy's gift."
Coo coo.
Kekeke.
Wyvern chicks grown from chicken to puppy size.
One-meter wings flapping on Skywing runway.
Devouring the huge tuna I'd brought.
"Derbal, all tasks done?"
"Yes, my lord. Converted guild wagons too—all sent to concrete outposts."
"Harvest soon. Except fortress garrisons, grant soldiers temporary leave for busy farms."
"Understood."
Dravilt cleared vast lands; autumn wheat ripened.
But labor short.
Youths mostly soldiers/mercs—sudden yield surge strained.
*Roads must stabilize before fortress builds.*
All began and ended with roads.
Solid cement roads sped logistics.
That power would build the territory.
If Zamer's right, mega-war next year—Neruman inescapable.
Even Habis could attack anytime.
"Other winter goods secured?"
"Ample stocks. Dwarf weapons boosting morale sky-high."
Dwarf arms, knight-grade elsewhere.
Iron but unbreakable—soldiers thrilled.
*Magic stones need to arrive soon.*
Krisia should be at maritime kingdom by now.
Wanted to fly Bebeto, grab them.
Essential for territory megastructures.
Low-grade stones for blast spears nearly gone.
"I'll be at outposts—contact if needed."
"See you, my lord."
Derbal's admin prowess kept him swamped unlike other knights.
Busy life slimmed his face.
*Gonna work him to death.*
Pity, but necessary.
Zenith knights busy patrolling/training.
At least Temir quiet.
"Kids, Daddy's off to work. Say bye, hoho."
Wyverns kept Armis beaming happily.
Coo kekeke!
Kekeke!
Understanding, hatchlings bobbed heads at me mounting Bebeto.
"See you."
"Yes."
Armis met my eyes with a radiant smile.
Her gaze energized like a battery.
Clop.
Mounted waiting Bebeto.
*Must start sans elf aid.*
Glanced at beastkin atop wyverns, per orders.
Fed, housed, given magic formulas—no complaints.
"Go!"
Roooaaar!
"Go" and Bebeto spread wings, kicked off.
No luxury of despair.
Just charge ahead today too.
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Crack! Crack!
*Human power's mighty.*
Lime quarry for cement.
Slaves swarmed, pickaxing diligently.
Surface mining—not too hard.
Ordered guards not to harass.
*Heaps piled up.*
Mass-produced techs making cement.
Stacked neatly in wooden warehouses everywhere.
*Unused, it hardens.*
No 21st-century packaging—long storage doomed it.
*Start here.*
Slaves and reserves waited.
Three thousand strong.
Hundreds of gravel/sand wagons.
*Gravel/sand everywhere near river.*
Bebeto landing, brain whirring.
"Choooooung!"
Fortified concrete outpost.
Bebeto down, thousands saluted.
"Welcome, my lord!"
Ten outpost knights saluted crisply.
"Prep complete?"
"As Lord Derbal instructed. Slaves/soldiers in centuries."
"Move out now. Dump sand/gravel/cement at sites. Simultaneously, slaves pave from here to there!"
"Yes!"
*Elves would breeze this.*
Mankind short everything.
*No teeth? Use gums.*
"Hasipot."
"Speak, master."
*Ugh!*
Unsettling beastkin senses.
He'd snuck silent behind me.
"Soldiers pave road, raise it 50cm with rockwall spell..."
Clang! Clang! Clang!
"E-Enemy sighted!!!"
"Battle stations! Unknown wyverns!"
Mid-explain to blinking beastkin, watchtower yelled.
*What? Habis attacking already?!*
Outpost midway Denfos-Habis border.
Stealth raid plausible.
"Not wyverns."
"Harpy."
*Harpy!!*
Sharp-eyed beastkin spotted harpies afar.
*Harpy!*
Mana-sight west: familiar shapes.
"Elves."
"Our friends."
Elves.
Over twenty atop harpies—first appearance.
"M-My lord, orders?"
Knights panicked to me.
"Guests arrived."
"G-Guests?"
"Hold positions."
"Yes!"
Calm voice tensed knights.
*Narmias...*
Harpy like giant eagle neared outpost.
Leading: elf warrior Narmias.
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Flutter, flutter, flutter.
Elf-laden harpies landed orderly in clearing.
Trained or innate bond—disciplined.
Lime dust swirled.
Silence fell post-landing.
Soldiers awed by first harpies; beastkin tense at elf friends.
*Cool.*
Narmias and elves with shiny mithril longbows.
Game opening cinematic vibes.
"Friends where blue life blooms in every step, welcome."
Greeted elves in mithril plate and mask-helms.
Swish.
Thud.
Leaped off harpies like one, lined before me.
*Relief.*
Aura unmistakable—not foes.
Clink.
Helms off.
"Gasp!"
"E-Elves!!!"
"Elves appearing!"
Workers gawked, exclamations erupted.
"May blue repose be with you..."
Elves greeted me.
*Tense.*
Humans forgot millennium-old events; elves remembered as recent ancestor tales—wary of mankind.
Natural tension under stares.
*Having fun though.*
Visible: thrill of endless skies post-well escape.
Tension/excitement swirled elves.
"Elders permitted. We, world-contemplators, came first."
Emotion-inept Narmias explained with joyful eyes.
*This grace, lifelong debt.*
Lovable elf pledging body for me.
Tonight, deep kiss repayment.
"Thank you. Your steps today forge new human-elf history."
Bowed sincere thanks.
"No, brother. Thanks to you who led us out."
Oldest-looking elf among youths stepped forward, thanking.
"Friends, long time."
"B-Beastkin!"
"Good to see."
"Blue repose abound. Elders missed you—meet here."
"Our master good man. Trust him."
Beastkin praised me simply, surely to surprised elves.
Gluttons, but useful.
"Sir Cayer, how may we help?"
Sharp Narmias read mood.
"All brothers here spiritists?"
"Yes. All summon mid-to-high spirits."
"Gasp! H-High spiritists!"
"Hmm..."
Knights dumbfounded overhearing.
*Heh. Jackpot!*
Elves like excavators, bulldozers, concrete trucks.
Few in number, but enough.
"From here to there, summon earth spirits—depth this, width to here. Simultaneously, walls this height sides, harden stone-like for days."
Gestured depths/heights; elves nodded.
"Easy."
*Never seen cuties like these.*
Narmias's "easy" thrilled me heart-bursting.
Easy for elves? No small feat.
"Please."
Two elves stepped up.
"Friend, reveal thyself."
"Beloved ally, I call you."
Eyes closed, summoned spirits.
Rumble rumble rumble.
*High earth spirit Clayda!*
Even I couldn't contract: great earth spirit Clay.
"Eek!"
Ground rose 4m, humanoid mud formed—knights recoiled.
*Ooh! Killer!*
Mud-formed, but potent mana awed.
"Friend, pack ground there to this height."
"Honored ally, wall around packed earth."
Rumble rumble rumble.
Why elves spirit-affine? Treated as true friends—spirits adored.
"I-Incredible!"
Clay sank, ground precisely pitted/packed.
Swish swish.
Another Clay walled sides.
*Grr...*
Overwhelming emotion surged.
Beastkin would've failed today; spirits aced in minutes.
"Stone Field!"
Crack crackle.
Precise pit/walls; elves magicked hardening.
Hundreds meters road matched my vision instantly.
"More help needed?"
Sweet Narmias smiled cutely.
"What're you doing! Dump stone dust, gravel, sand! Fill pits!!"
"Yes!"
Dazed knights by elves snapped, moved.
"Move! Quick, pour dust/sand in pits! Gravel generous!"
Wire mesh ideal, but beggars can't.
Rumble.
Horses inconvenient; soldiers/slaves shoved heavy wagons.
"Hasipot, lightweight wagons."
"Got it, master."
No need details.
"Light!"
"Light!"
Beastkin rushed, cast per order.
2nd-circle easy.
"Fill beside walls so wagons dump."
"Understood."
Rumble rumble.
Firm earth filled wall sides instantly.
Cement/gravel/sand poured atop.
Hundreds wagons: hundreds meters filled blink.
"Water spiritist, fill/mix inside with water."
"Yes!"
Elves moved disciplined.
Likely Parkiano elder ordered obedience.
"Friend Sequell, I earnestly call."
Splash!
Blue-haired female water spiritist summoned: high water spirit Sequell popped air.
Wolf-sized, sharp water-membrane fins striking.
"Spray water on materials inside, mix all."
Splash splash splash.
Heard, dove into mix.
Dry soaked, blended swiftly.
Mid-joy daze: first road done.
Splish splish—perfect two-lane concrete stretched.
*God!*
Near tears.
Sans elves, I'd labor too; under hour, hundreds meters pristine road.
Curing needed, but no worry.
This pace: kilos daily with materials.
*Heh, contemplate world? Trust me. I'll teach life's not easy.*
Elves stood mannequin-calm post-work.
As if hearing thoughts, all shivered suddenly.
"Lovely Narmias."
"Yes?"
"That too, please."
"Yes!"
Whispered; Narmias squealed joyfully.
Slightly wicked, but hey.
Just exploiting god-given elf talents.