Chapter 239
Chapter 239
"The units sent to the royal demesne are proceeding smoothly with their work."
Despite the content of his report, Dwain's expression wasn't particularly bright.
The reason was simple: things going smoothly meant that enormous sums of money were draining away in real-time.
'If it's preparation for war, I can't complain, but this is too tight.'
Grumbling was starting to emerge even within the MacLaine territory itself. He swallowed a sigh. He judged that these were issues he could handle on his own, so he kept his mouth shut, but the bitter feeling in his stomach was unavoidable.
"If things are going well over there, then it's about time we start the dam construction, isn't it?"
Hoping that the next policy to be implemented wouldn't create more resentment, he nodded heavily.
"Yes. We'll mobilize the workers with sufficient wages. However, to complete the construction within the timeframe you mentioned, we'll need someone with proven experience..."
"Mobilize Clayton and the elite members of the Golem Tower, along with Hamar and the dwarves who have experience with dam construction. Make sure it's finished before winter ends."
"...Understood."
As Dwain turned around with a half-beat delayed response, a gentle voice came from behind him.
"Just a little longer. Hang in there a bit more. One year. After that, things will get much better."
Whether he realized that the deep anxiety underlying those soothing words was placing an even greater burden on his heart was uncertain.
"La la la~"
These days, humming came naturally to him.
And for good reason.
'The master is the king of this country, and I am the king of the magic workshop.'
Hamar looked in the mirror, neatly combed his hair back, and started humming again.
After confirming once more that his slicked-back hair, which fully revealed his handsome forehead, matched perfectly with the expensive-looking red silk robe, he clasped his hands behind his back and slowly walked out of the room.
Unlike the quiet room, a rough, thumping noise relentlessly invaded his ears.
"Line 3, hurry up! Why is it taking so long to flatten one metal plate?!"
"Line 1 accident! Two human craftsmen! Call the emergency team! Quick!"
Thump, thump, thump. Crash.
Drrrrrrr.
"Line 2 complete! Next!"
The dwarves and human craftsmen moving fiercely below the railing.
The sounds they produced were, to put it mildly, terrible noise, but even that sounded like music to Hamar.
As soon as he opened the door, Hamar turned to Temar, who had followed him as if waiting, and asked.
"What's the progress?"
"The order volume is too high. It looks like it will take at least a few more months."
"Because of the soldiers' equipment, right?"
"Yes."
"Fifty thousand sets is no joke, tsk. Still, if the master says do it, we do it. Do your best. Keep the craftsmen well-motivated."
"I know."
"And those knights who took... that...?"
"They said they'd return as soon as they run out. But given the quantity, maybe one more trip will be enough?"
"Good, excellent."
Everything was proceeding smoothly.
'A workshop several times the size of the village where I used to hide in the old days moves at my command.'
A tingling sensation starting from his fingertips pleasantly tickled his brain.
He knew an easy way to make this good feeling even better.
"What about the beer?"
"I have it ready here."
"As expected. Temar, you're surprisingly quick-witted for a dwarf."
Beaming, he patted Temar on the shoulder and took the beer mug hanging from his hooked hand.
Gulp. Gulp.
'Damn, he drinks well.'
He drank so refreshingly that one might wonder if the lukewarm beer had accidentally been enchanted with cold magic.
"Ahhh! This is the taste!"
Just as Hamar let out that exclamation.
Weeeeeeeng.
From inside the open door, a red light flashed and spewed out a loud, jarring noise.
Hamar froze in place, still holding his beer mug.
It was the most horrible sound in the world, the one he least wanted to hear.
"Hah, haha. I must be hearing things."
Feeling cold sweat trickle down his back, Hamar turned to Temar with an awkward expression.
"...I can hear it too."
"No, it's a mistake!"
Bang!
Hamar slammed the door to his office shut, denying reality.
But.
[Hamar, if you don't come out in five minutes, I'll dismiss you as workshop master...]
At the voice of someone that was clearly audible even inside the office, Hamar opened the door with a miserably crumpled expression.
And the moment he faced the communication orb, his face broke into a wide smile, as if he had never frowned at all.
"Wahahaha! I've been a bit busy. Master, long time no see!"
A slight tremor ran through the corners of his mouth, stretched as wide as possible, but unless someone was watching right next to him, they wouldn't notice.
Logan inside the communication orb, seeing Hamar struggling to look cheerful, smiled faintly and got straight to the point.
[Hamar, let's build one more dam.]
"Ah... hahaha. A dam, a dam construction."
Mumbling, he naturally turned his head and muttered a curse just loud enough for Temar beside him to hear.
"But I'm a bit busy these days..."
[We need to proceed as quickly as possible and finish before winter. Gather only those with experience and come to Gran.]
"Well, I do have a schedule..."
[I'll give you three days.]
"No, it takes three days just to get there, you bastard! Have some conscience...!"
[Four days, then.]
"...Ugh."
[I trust you'll prepare well on your own. See you then.]
Even after the light of the communication orb went out, Hamar stood there blankly.
"Dam construction? Again? Ah, in the royal demesne...? I see. I understand His Majesty's intentions."
Though he had been appointed as the person in charge of yet another large-scale project, Clayton's reaction was quite different from Hamar's.
However, he still had a concern.
"The timing is a bit unfortunate. It wouldn't be good to delay this matter for several more months..."
"What should I report?"
"No, I'll see His Majesty myself and speak to him. Request an audience."
"Yes, Master."
As Grick, who had received the order, left, Clayton immediately prepared for the audience, organizing the materials scattered across his desk.
In his view, this matter was just as important as the dam construction.
"No matter how I think about it, to perfectly control the magic towers, I believe gathering them into a single organization is the best course of action. Creating a new magic tower that represents the kingdom."
"A new magic tower?"
Logan showed curiosity at Clayton's words.
"Yes. The existing Royal Magic Tower is only a royal magic tower in name; in reality, it's no different from a single tower of the Wizard School. It was the influence of the great sage Drukail from the early days of the kingdom's founding."
"That's true."
"The original intention of embracing all schools and respecting the diversity of magic has long since faded. The friction between the schools hasn't diminished in the slightest, and in the end, everyone except the Wizard School left the tower."
"So, what you're saying, Lord Clayton, is that this time, we should create a new royal magic tower that doesn't discriminate between schools and gather mages? Is that what you mean?"
At Logan's summary, Clayton nodded.
"Yes. That's correct."
"But I heard mages don't unite if their schools are different?"
"That's why I've devised a first-phase plan. Like myself in the past, I intend to first attract talented individuals who are marginalized as minorities within their towers, and then, centered around our Golem Tower, create the MacLaine Tower."
"The MacLaine Tower..."
Logan stroked his chin, deep in thought.
"It's embarrassing to say this myself, but if the minorities from each tower join our school, which is currently enjoying its peak prosperity under my leadership, and if they gradually merge into one, I believe that eventually, all the magic towers of the kingdom will unite under the MacLaine Tower."
"...Interesting. But why are you telling me this now?"
"I've had this idea since the time Your Majesty subdued the towers. However, I've only now brought it up because I was busy gathering data on the talents to recruit into the tower. Since I'll have to be away for several months once the dam construction begins."
"You want me to gather these talents in the name of the royal family?"
"Yes. I believe that approach would also be better for drawing the picture Your Majesty desires. You wouldn't be satisfied with just a single tower that merely gathers mages, would you."
Perhaps it was because they had been together for a long time.
At words that seemed to read his innermost thoughts, which he had never shared with anyone, Logan chuckled and nodded.
"Very well. Let's do that. However, I won't set a limit on the number of people."
"Pardon?"
"It means I'll accept any mages who wish to come, beyond the talents you've investigated, Lord Clayton. That would be closer to the vision I have in mind."
"Rejected again? Why the hell?!"
"The Tower Lord is deeply troubled by the recent unpleasant incidents. He says we all need to tighten our belts until a plan for the tower's future is established..."
"Bullshit!!"
Max, a 5th-Circle mage and elder of the Tower of Flame, was furious.
The mage who had come to deliver the Tower Lord's orders collapsed on the spot, trembling from the killing intent that burst out along with the thunderous shout, but Max felt not a shred of desire to apologize or console him.
It wasn't because he had a particularly bad temper.
It was simply because the budget he had been requesting for over a year had just been rejected again, and the problem was that the one who brought this dogshit news was none other than Penon, the third disciple of Tower Lord Freimer.
"Get the hell out of here, Penon. And tell the Tower Lord. If he doesn't support my research funds, I'll really leave the tower this time!"
"It's, it's not like telling me will do any good..."
"Shut up and deliver the message if you're told to!"
"Y-yes! I understand!"
As Penon scurried out of the laboratory, Max slumped down on the spot and let out a long sigh.
"So this is how far he'll go to keep me in check, huh? Tower Lord... have you really lost your mind?"
The talent to succeed Tower Lord Freimer, who was nearing ninety.
Those words, which he had heard when he reached the 5th Circle twenty years ago, had become an invisible shackle tormenting him ever since.
At first, it was just subtle ostracism, but five years ago, after he published research results that halved the incantation for the 5th-Circle spell Flame Blast, they began to openly obstruct him.
Missing research funds and disadvantages in budget allocation were the basics. Whenever he tried to do something, the Tower Lord or the Council of Elders would interfere or keep him in check.
As such things repeated, even he couldn't help but get worn out.
"What kind of fucking bullshit is this? You so-called high-ranking mages..."
As he was sighing heavily, the door suddenly burst open.
"Master!!"
It was his disciple, Raphael.
Seeing his disciple, who usually showed a calm demeanor uncharacteristic of a fire mage, so excited, Max asked the reason instead of getting angry.
"What is it?"
"The, the royal family! An invitation has come from the royal family in the name of His Majesty and the Golem Master for you, Master!"
"An invitation?"
In response to his master's question, Raphael pulled a document from his bosom with trembling hands and, striving for a calm voice, read it out clearly.
"For the establishment of the MacLaine Tower, which will become the center of the kingdom's mages, we are recruiting talents regardless of their school."
Gulp.
Max stared blankly at his disciple, who swallowed dryly and licked his lips as if he couldn't believe it even as he spoke.
"I have selected Elder Max of the Tower of Flame as the top recruitment priority, upon the recommendation of the mage Clayton. If you become a member of the MacLaine Tower, you will receive full support, and I will also accept all mages who follow you. If you are interested, respond immediately. I swear in the name of MacLaine that no harm will come to the mages who leave the tower."
Crunch.
The wooden cup Max was holding crumpled, and a burning smell began to emanate from the handle.
It was the result of his fire mana manifesting naturally.
"Master!"
Startled by his disciple's panicked voice, he let go of the cup and jumped to his feet.
"...I have to go."
"Master?"
"I'm quitting this fucking tower right now!!"
Raphael stared blankly at his master, who let out a scream-like cheer and ran wildly around the laboratory.
And that day.
Elder Max of the Tower of Flame and his sixteen disciples left the tower.
Furthermore, six elders from the Five Great Towers, who had been in similar situations, also led their disciples out of their respective towers and declared they would join the MacLaine Tower.
The number of people alone exceeded 150, and among them, aside from the seven 5th-Circle mages who were the primary recruitment targets, there were twenty-two 4th-Circle mages and seventy 3rd-Circle mages.
This was essentially the combat power equivalent to an entire magic tower.
Everyone on the list, which had been drawn up expecting some rejections, had accepted.
Moreover...
"...Inquiries from other mages are also flooding in."
"What?"
There were far more mages dissatisfied with the long-established culture of the magic towers than they had thought.