Mana Soil
Ho-yeong was pleased by the string of achievements he’d racked up in quick succession.
“Working with monsters isn’t easy, is it? Hang in there a little longer. As soon as the barracks are finished, I’ll send more people over.”
“Well, if we’re short-handed, what can ye do? Those goblin lads are more useful than I’d expected. Might be a different story if ye told me to work alongside an orc, though.”
“If you’ve got anyone who won’t listen, bring them to Rubia. Since you’re here after so long, why don’t you take a look at the turturium storage too?”
“Aye.”
Vanebel’s face broke into a broad grin at the sight of the turturium stacked in neat rows.
“It’s been a real long time since I’ve seen turturium this fine. If the color’s this good, then aye, it’s top grade all right.”
“Even you were surprised, weren’t you, Vanebel? Turturium just suddenly appeared out of nowhere.”
“What does it matter whether it falls from the sky or sprouts from the ground? What matters is that ye kept your promise.”
The dwarf brushed it off as though it were nothing.
“Jorey, turturium has to be stored proper-like. If it goes off, it’ll be a headache and a half.”
“Of course. I know that very well.”
The storage room was closer to a vault than a warehouse. It had been dug below ground level, with a thick earthen mound packed over the roof.
“Ye didn’t even need to tell me, but this is built tidy. Seeing that ye’ve got them spread out in different spots instead of piling them all in one place, it puts my mind at ease.”
“A chain reaction or a secondary explosion would be disastrous.”
Turturium had been buried one by one in deep pits between sturdy ironwood partition walls that also served as supports. Each chunk was carefully wrapped in soft mandrake fur.
“Secondary explosion? Ye know that word too? Where’d ye learn that? Not bad at all.”
“Explosives have to be handled properly.”
“Why wrap it all up in that boar fur? So even if it’s dropped by accident, it won’t go off?”
“Exactly. It works as padding, and it also keeps out moisture. If turturium soaks up water, it doesn’t process properly into explosive stone.”
“Hah. Ye thought that far ahead?”
Bang Ho-yeong, proud artilleryman of Korea, understood the importance of an ammunition depot better than Vanebel ever could—if not even more so.
“And we’re going to put up a defensive wall and fence around the storage too. For now, the laborers will double as guards. Until the training grounds over there are finished, anyway.”
Ho-yeong pointed toward a rise in the distance.
“Once the soldiers are stationed there permanently and we build a watchtower, management should get a lot easier. Besides that, we’ll set up magical safeguards and anti-theft measures. We’ve got mana to spare. Ah, and—”
Vanebel looked impressed.
“…Jorey, ye’re amazing. I hadn’t even thought that far ahead. Sorry for jawing off carelessly earlier.”
“Huh? Sorry for what?”
“I gave ye grief earlier, called ye a dumb sword-swinger and all that. My mouth runs ahead of my brain. Ye can forgive me for that, can’t ye?”
“It’s nothing. More importantly, you haven’t forgotten, have you? Shields and armor matter, sure, but we’ve got a bigger goal than that.”
“Aye, of course. No need to say it twice. Ye kept your promise, so I’ll keep mine too. Don’t worry about a thing.”
Just as they had buried the turturium while waiting for the right time, their passion for developing artillery had not cooled in the slightest.
Skill level increased! The Guardian’s devotion to meticulously managing turturium moved the System.
Passive Skill[People of Artillery] has increased from level 2 to 3.
After seeing Vanebel off, the message rang out.
“Oh. So skills can level up like that too.”
No matter how powerful an artillery piece is, if the ammunition isn’t properly prepared, it’s useless.
“Agreed. Right, let’s see how the other work is going. Head to the center of the territory.”
One of the zones unlocked after clearing Stage 1, the central district office building was being renovated and expanded into a barracks.
“Looks like things are going well.”
Whenever the mandragorani hauled in heavy ironwood beams, the carpenters built the framework and formwork. Into that, they poured and hardened Tamer Territory’s special concrete.
The goblins were manufacturing cement, the key ingredient in that concrete, by mixing adsorption soil, gravel, and a “special powder.”
“Aren’t you guys tired?”
- Gop? Gopgop gopgop! (Tired? We’re having a blast!)
The little monsters gleefully smashed apart the bones of their dead kin. As for the bones of their sworn enemies, the Warden Captain and the hobgoblins, they were grinding those down into a fine powder.
Cement made from goblin bone meal and adsorption soil turned out to be of excellent quality.
“R-right. Keep up the good work.”
In another gloomy corner, workers were busy separating flesh from bone.
Ho-yeong had considered gathering up the goblin corpses and burning them, but there was no need. The goblins were eating the meat, and the bones were being put to practical use as building material.
“…But is it really okay to eat rotten meat?”
- Gopgop. Gopgopgop! (Even if their personalities were rotten, the taste is fine.)
- Goooop. Gop! (Those rotten bastards, I always wanted to chew them up good and proper. This makes me so happy.)
“No, I’m not saying their personalities are rotten. I mean, isn’t the meat spoiled?”
- Gopgopgop! (Aged flavor suits us perfectly.)
“…Fine. Eat up. Come to think of it, I’m the last person who should be interfering in how monsters are cooked.”
Since goblins possessed strong resistance to disease and germs, there was no need to worry. Ho-yeong had tried feeding them proper food too, but the goblins had been lukewarm about it.
If I can save the trouble of feeding them separately and cooking for them, I’ll call that a win. From now on, they can keep handling monster corpses like this.
The residential district restoration was going smoothly as well.
“Oh, Lord! Thank you so much. For fixing our house up so beautifully.”
These were people who had been forced to leave the homes they loved after the monster rampage three years ago.
“I never thought we’d be able to come back.... The whole neighborhood had become a monster’s front yard, so there was no way for us to return. You can’t imagine how heartbreaking that was.”
“Even if we had come back, we wouldn’t have had the strength or the people to repair a house that had been torn down.”
Remembering the hardships they had endured while living in the makeshift refugee shelters brought tears pouring from their eyes.
“May Hariad’s blessings overflow upon the Count of the Border Region and the Tamer family! How could we ever repay this kindness…?”
“Think nothing of it. Save your thanks for the laborers and soldiers who did the work.”
Ho-yeong gave the credit back to the workers.
“Lord, we really thank you too. But is it truly all right for us to live here…?”
Since so many had died in the rampage, there were quite a few empty houses where entire families had been wiped out. Some had suggested using those homes as soldiers’ quarters, but Ho-yeong had instead relocated the refugees who had been living in the forbidden zone.
“Please don’t worry about it. Once that black fog lifts, you’ll be able to return to where you used to live. And the original owners of this house would probably be glad too, knowing they’re helping their neighbors.”
Every time the townspeople’s tears welled up, his conversion gauge surged as well.
“And here we are, with the Lord himself living without even a decent house of his own, while you’re taking care of us first… We’ll never forget this debt!”
The townsfolk are moved by the Lord’s generous heart. They will gladly take part in corvée labor for the future development of the territory. However, if you make the lord’s manor too large and extravagant, the conversion gauge may decrease, so take care.
Ho-yeong was quite pleased by the rewards coming in in real time.
Of course, the housing project wasn’t being carried out just so he could play the role of a benevolent lord.
As the residential area expands, the territory’s influence increases.
He had his own ulterior motive.
The area covered by the black fog has slightly decreased.
“Yes!”
Ho-yeong let out a cheer, just as he’d hoped.
The completion rate for the Important Quest<Black Curtain> condition “Reveal the effect of the black fog” has increased from 15% to 25%.
In the game, players were given territory. To unlock forbidden zones—that is, land covered by black fog—and expand that territory, they needed influence. There were three ways to gain it.
First: eliminate monsters through defense.
Second: create residences or defensive structures in empty zones. However, doing that could draw the aggro of nearby monsters and trigger an invasion.
Third: unfortunately, still unknown.
If I let people live here, the influence really does go up. Good. Even if it takes a while, I should be able to peel back a fair amount of the black fog.
With a much lighter heart, Ho-yeong headed east.
“This area’s coming along nicely too.”
He had converted the spring where mana water bubbled up into a well, so the mana water that emerged at regular intervals could be preserved more easily.
“Lord, this mana soil idea of yours is really something, sir.”
Sicoop was practically buzzing with excitement.
While looking for a way to make use of the abundant mana water, Ho-yeong had come up with an unusual method: pour the mana water into a container of adsorption soil, turn it into a sticky mass of earth, and dry it thoroughly.
“Has nobody ever tried anything like this before? Surely there are tons of—well, tons of wizard geniuses out there.”
“Just carrying it around in a bottle causes a lot of mana to evaporate. Who would think of pouring mana water into sand?”
He’d tested ordinary soil, but instead of gathering mana, it had only scattered it to the wind.
“But this soil is different, sir. The mana doesn’t evaporate; it actually condenses…. At this rate, mana stones are about to become cheap as dirt.”
“That’s a bit too far. Mana stones are way harder, and their mana content is higher too.”
Rather than getting swept up in the excitement, Ho-yeong analyzed it coolly.
“And mana stones can also store the mana of mages, can’t they?”
If mana was a resource that existed throughout the world, then magical power was the energy within the body that allowed one to handle it.
“That’s true, sir. This can’t completely replace mana stones. But in terms of productivity, mana soil doesn’t even compare. As long as you’ve got mana water and adsorption soil, you can make as much of it as you want.”
“Which means if even one of those two becomes hard to supply, we’re in trouble, right?”
“Yes, sir! I’ll manage the supply chain properly. I stake my own supplies on it, sir.”
Having gained access to abundant magical resources, Sicoop was happier than he’d ever been.
“And the method you taught me earlier was a success too, sir.”
Sicoop brought over the new mana soil made for streetlamps: a pale silver-white sphere with a soft sheen.
Where traditional streetlamps used a round mana stone carved into shape and then enchanted with a light spell, the method Ho-yeong had proposed was to mix dandanum shavings into round mana soil and fire it at high heat. In other words, a porcelain bead.
“How did you even come up with such an ingenious idea?”
“Common sense says mana water itself is liquid, so it’s hard to use directly as the medium for fire or light attributes.”
When it was absorbed into adsorption soil and solidified, it became useful, but it was still less efficient than mana stone.
“To just break that common sense wide open…. Mix dandanum powder into the mana-soil dough and bake it at high heat so it becomes even harder—what a bold yet effective idea!”
“Well, we’ve got a kiln in the forge, so it just came to me. And they said there’d be tons of dandanum powder left over from polishing the shields.”
Ho-yeong spoke as if it were nothing.
“What was this method called in the Eastern Continent again?”
“Porcelain.”
On the Western Continent, vessels were usually made of metal or wood—of which there was plenty. Porcelain was a luxury good imported from the Eastern Continent.
“You really do know a lot about Eastern Continent culture, sir. Even the seasoning you use when making mandragorani bulgogi—what was it, soy sauce?—you’re well versed in all that stuff, sir.”
“Well… I just picked it up here and there. Ahem.”
Ho-yeong averted his gaze a little, avoiding Sicoop’s curious stare.
“Anyway, let’s test whether these bulbs actually light up.”
“Yes, sir. Then I’ll prepare the light spell.”
“Ah, hold on. Couldn’t we make it so they can be switched on and off manually?”
“If we set a trigger word, that should be possible, sir. But why, may I ask? If you’re trying to conserve mana….”
“No, that’s not it. I heard the light spells on the streetlamps along Podwor Highway can last for years. I’m more worried about the battles that could come later.”
The concern of the lord was elsewhere.
“There’s no law saying monsters only attack during the day. What if they show up at night? Couldn’t the streetlamps end up becoming lanterns for the monsters instead?”
“I see. Your foresight is on another level, sir!”
The one who had been reminded of blackout drills.
“What should the trigger word be, Lord?”
“Hmm? Something simple would be best, wouldn’t it? Something anyone can turn on and off.”
“How about this, then: ‘O Almighty Count of the Border Region, protect us with eternal light. Guide us with sacred revelation, and though the whole territory be wrapped in the fog of darkness, lead our souls with holy streetlamp fire.’ Or something like that?”
“…Do you want to see me executed for treason? And do you think monsters would wait politely while that’s being recited?”
After a brief war of words, the trigger word was decided.
On / Off.