The Calm Before the Storm
For a moment, Jeron doubted his own eyes.
Under the microscope, the raw iron ore brought by the barbarians shimmered with a distinct blend of silver and blue.
This could only mean one thing.
Though in trace amounts, the ore was laced with mythril.
Across the entire Karen Continent, mythril was produced in only the smallest quantities.
This mystical mineral possessed a low melting point yet was incredibly durable, earning it the title of the "metal of the gods."
Alloying even a fraction of mythril into weaponry elevated its quality to an entirely different level, yielding a strength more than five times that of standard metals.
Even after living in this world for over eighteen years, this was Jeron's first time seeing raw mythril ore.
"This... looks like mythril, doesn't it?"
"Mythril?! You mean that legendary rare metal?"
"Yeah... it has to be."
Jeron could hardly believe what he was seeing. He brought over several other ore samples to examine them.
"Well, I'll be. What is going on here?"
Every single piece of ore was the same.
Of course, the actual mythril content within the raw ore was barely 0.1%, but that was typical for mythril.
The origin of mythril remained a mystery.
The most prominent theory was that during ancient times, when mana was abundant, ordinary ore absorbed the ambient energy and slowly transmuted over centuries.
In the present day, active mythril mines were exceedingly rare. If word of this discovery leaked to the outside world, it would bring a bloodbath to the territory.
Jeron's voice instinctively dropped to a cautious whisper.
"This stays strictly between us."
"Obviously. I'm not an idiot."
"Can we separate it?"
"You said its melting point is lower than bronze, right?"
"That's what the records say."
"Then the separation itself will be easy. Crushing the raw ore is the real chore, but if we can set up the right machinery, it'll be a piece of cake."
"Machinery, you say."
"We're going to have a steady supply of this ore coming in, aren't we? I think we'll need to salvage some solar panels from Earth. If we can power a press to crush the ore into fine powder, extracting the mythril will be child's play. We could even cast mythril ingots."
"M-Mythril ingots!"
Jeron had heard tales of such legendary bars before, but he had always assumed they had nothing to do with a remote place like the Farrow Territory.
Yet here they were, discovering mythril in the lands of the barbarians.
What was even more astonishing was that those barbarians treated this mythril-laced ore like common rocks cluttering the roadside.
Since the barbarians knew how to smelt bronze, they had never offered it for trade, but iron ore was a different story.
Lacking the technology to smelt iron, they deemed the ore worthless and had tried to dump it on Jeron for a quick profit.
Jeron glanced around the workshop.
The guards and vassals standing nearby paid them no mind.
Jeron and Mr. Kang were speaking entirely in Korean.
"If we can somehow cast mythril ingots, we'll be able to forge incredible armaments."
"I'm going to need you to work your magic, Mr. Kang."
"Don't worry. If it means making mythril ingots, a little hard work is nothing."
Jeron mentally mapped out his next steps on Earth.
Once they finished scavenging the current shelter, they would dismantle and bring back solar panels.
There was no need to search far and wide for solar setups.
Almost every detached house on Earth had solar installations, and in a pinch, they could simply strip the panels off the shelter's camper van.
Jeron finalized the scheduling details with Mr. Kang.
For the next trip, they would go together.
Mr. Kang would focus on dismantling the solar panels and gathering the tools inside the shelter.
After that, Jeron planned to spend several weeks systematically hauling every single useful item back to the territory.
While this discovery alone was monumental, Mr. Kang was already looking ahead to their next project.
"Mythril aside, the real issue is the blast furnace."
"A blast furnace?"
"If we want to mass-produce high-quality iron, a blast furnace is essential. You've probably seen them on TV."
"Can we actually build one?"
"If we throw enough labor at it, we can manage. The real bottleneck is the chemical compounds needed for the construction."
"Chemicals? How exactly do you build a blast furnace?"
"Actually, the design isn't that complicated. It relies on the simple principle of molten iron sinking to the bottom, so the structure itself is straightforward. As long as we have refractory bricks, we're good to go."
"You build a blast furnace out of bricks?"
"You didn't know?"
"How on earth would I know that?"
It was a method Jeron had never even imagined.
After all, what ordinary person ever researched how blast furnaces were constructed?
The actual building process was so simple it was almost anticlimactic.
However, as Mr. Kang pointed out, even the simplest structures were the result of centuries of trial and error, so they were not to be underestimated.
Refractory bricks required a mixture of 77% clay, 2% silica, 4% high-alumina, and 17% chrome and magnesia.
The clay had to be chemically treated, dried, and fired to completion.
It was the preparation of these chemical compounds that proved difficult.
Naturally, Mr. Kang already had a solution in mind.
"The easiest way is to salvage them from a brick factory. If we can't find one, we'll have to search the suburban residential estates."
"Do residential houses use refractory bricks?"
"They're fire-resistant, so they were used quite often."
Jeron found himself marveling at Earth's technology once again.
Using fireproof bricks to build ordinary houses?
Even on Earth, brick houses had become rare in recent times, meaning they would have to search older properties.
On the Karen Continent, refractory bricks were a technology a thousand years ahead of its time, yet on Earth, they were just common materials used for niche construction.
Lost in conversation, the two men completely lost track of time.
Before leaving, Jeron asked one final question regarding their metal casting plans.
"How is the preparation for casting the armaments coming along?"
"It shouldn't be difficult. Especially now that we have this mythril ore."
"Can we produce about two hundred pieces?"
"Two hundred? I can make five hundred."
Mr. Kang thumped his chest with absolute confidence.
He truly was a master engineer.
He had spent his entire life working with metal, and his skills had reached new heights ever since he began studying under that mysterious old man on Earth.
With Mr. Kang driving the territory's industrial development forward, Jeron was free to focus on other pressing matters.
Stepping out of the workshop, Jeron immediately gave orders to Sir Garcia.
"We need to move the regular council meeting forward. Summon everyone."
"Right away, my Lord!"
The vassal council.
The weekly meeting was originally scheduled for the following day.
However, Jeron decided to convene his vassals a day early.
Except for a few stationed in the outlying districts, everyone gathered in the council chamber.
Jeron began by sharing the results of the trade expedition with the barbarians.
The gross revenue amounted to roughly 800,000 gold.
Securing such a massive sum in a single transaction left Cain and the other treasury officials grinning from ear to ear.
"Did we truly earn eight hundred thousand gold from this single trip?!"
"We still have to deduct various overhead expenses, but yes, that is the gross revenue."
"This is magnificent! I feel like I can finally breathe again!"
Sir Cain and the financial officers rejoiced openly.
From the moment Jeron secured the trade rights, the territory had begun developing at a pace unprecedented in this era.
The mindset of the peasantry had shifted, and the vassals threw themselves into their duties with newfound passion. The fruits of the New Territory Movement were finally beginning to show.
With such a massive influx of capital, Jeron himself was eager to see how much the territory would transform over the coming year.
Sir Cain swallowed his excitement and continued his report.
"We have also received word from Lady Seria. The art auction in the capital brought in three hundred thousand gold. She plans to sell the remaining pieces over several sessions, with the total revenue estimated to reach seven hundred to eight hundred thousand gold."
"Oh? That much?"
"They are masterpieces, after all. I expected nothing less."
Jeron let out a soft whistle of admiration.
He had thought his plan to sell Earth's famous paintings was clever, but he hadn't expected the response to be this explosive.
"The second auction is scheduled to begin soon, so the final bids might go even higher than anticipated."
Seria's report was only an estimate.
The final sum could be higher or lower, but the vassals confidently predicted they would clear at least a million gold in total.
"Now that we have ample liquidity, the treasury must reinvest it immediately. We will launch all our delayed infrastructure projects at once."
"Our labor supply is stable for now, but if we expand our operations any further, we will run into a labor shortage."
"Is it that severe?"
"We simply have too many projects running simultaneously, my Lord."
It was a wonderful problem to have.
Just a few months ago, they were scraping by with empty coffers. Now, with gold pouring in like a flood, they were bottlenecked by a lack of hands.
"Look into ways we can recruit more labor."
"Understood, my Lord!"
"Sir Jenald, have we heard back from Viscount Rebion?"
"He has accepted your proposal, my Lord."
"'Proposal'? What a joke. We threw him a baited hook, yet he acts as if he's the one dictating terms."
"Does that not prove how flawless your plan was, my Lord?"
"Hahaha! I suppose so. I do have a knack for reeling people in."
Jeron laughed heartily, and his vassals joined in.
They had endured nothing but hardships in the past, but lately, everything was falling into place so perfectly that laughter came easily to everyone in the room.
"That fool Rebion. If he loses this territory war, he might find himself demoted to a baron."
"That is indeed the likely outcome."
Climbing the ranks of nobility was a grueling process, but falling from grace could happen in the blink of an eye.
Every five years, the royal court conducted a review of all noble titles.
If a lord maintained their domain, their title remained secure. However, if their territory shrank or if they committed a grave blunder, their rank could be stripped.
In fact, that was exactly how the Farrow family had fallen from counts to barons in the past.
"Now, while we are the ones pulling the strings, we must make it look as though the Viscount has the upper hand. He will undoubtedly offer a tempting bait. We will bet big and end this territory war in a single stroke. But before that, we have one last piece of business to take care of."
"What business would that be, my Lord?"
"I must write to Duke Langton and secure his backing for this war. Instruct Seria to visit the Duke with a generous offering of gifts."
"The court has been trying to discourage territory wars lately, so having Duke Langton's endorsement will resolve any political complications."
"Tell Seria to present him with all the wine she took to the capital."
"I will send the message immediately!"
They had already expanded their borders significantly to the north.
Though it was mostly empty wilderness, the physical size of a domain played a crucial role in elevating a noble's rank, just as population did.
If they could convince the barbarians to cross the river and swear fealty to the Farrow family, they could bolster their population without shedding a single drop of blood.
Jeron looked around the room, his eyes shining with absolute certainty.
"This time, we are taking at least one of his cities!"