Episode 47

Though Clayton and the Golem faction's full integration remained a distant dream, their immediate impact on the construction was undeniably unparalleled—no need to even consider cost-efficiency.

With Clayton's massive golems at work, there was no longer any need to risk deploying laborers alongside them.

'Practically handling the bulk of the work alone...'

Even if Clayton was exceptional among mages, Logan was reminded why Fifth-Circle mages commanded such exorbitant fees.

Compared to High Knights—who were considered peers in prestige—their productivity was on an entirely different level.

'Knights who only know how to swing swords...'

Just as Logan was mentally disparaging knights, he suddenly remembered that he, too, was one of those "sword-swingers" and let out an awkward cough.

As if responding to that cough, another thunderous explosion echoed.

KWA—AAAAANG!

RUMBLE—RUMBLE—RUMBLE!

The deafening roar shook heaven and earth once more.

GOOOOOO—

Amidst the chaos, the lumbering movements of the colossal monstrosity drew terrified screams from all directions.

"Kyaaah!"

"Mommy!"

"I wanna go home!"

"Ted! Grab that bastard! How many family members does he even have?! Hey, you!"

The laborers Logan had painstakingly gathered recoiled in horror at the pandemonium Clayton's golem had unleashed, some even collapsing to the ground.

Among them was Dwain, his expression still dazed.

"I—I must report this to the lord..."

Logan couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of Dwain and the laborers trembling like leaves.

'With Clayton here, tunnel construction alone is more than enough.'

There was no need to deploy additional workers at this point.

"Hamar. Take all the laborers to the irrigation channels. No need to keep them here for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the tunnel."

Logan's current construction plan involved two simultaneous projects: the tunnel and dam construction, which would redirect water to the reclaimed wasteland through a network of irrigation channels.

Originally, the 8,000 laborers were to be split between the tunnel and irrigation work, but it seemed feasible to adjust the plan now.

'Completion might come even faster than expected.'

Pleased by the thought, Logan allowed a small smile to curl his lips—

"...Understood!"

Hamar, who had been staring dumbfounded at the golem, belatedly processed Logan's order and began rallying the laborers.

And for the workers, this was welcome news.

"Irrigation channels?"

"Where's the water supposed to come from?"

"Well, if we're told to dig, we dig..."

"Does this even make sense?"

"First, they drill holes into mountains, now they're flipping the earth upside down..."

"Tch. Why so much complaining? It's better than hauling rocks, isn't it? Besides—"

RUMBLE—RUMBLE—

The laborers glanced toward the cliffside, where the deafening noise still roared, and shuddered before quickly turning away.

They were all of one mind.

Even if that thing was supposedly on their side, how could they not be terrified of a monster conjured by magic?

If that 20-meter-tall giant so much as brushed against them by accident, it would be farewell to this world.

"Let's just stick to digging, yeah? You confident?"

"Damn right!"

The task at hand—digging evenly spaced irrigation channels across a wasteland spanning over 40 km in width and estimated at over 800 km²—was no small feat.

Even with 8,000 laborers mobilized, it wouldn't be easy—but at this moment, not a single soul among them thought it was the harder option.

"My lord! Baron! Sir Patrick! Please—!"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Dwain's frantic pounding on the firmly shut door grew increasingly desperate.

RUMBLE—RUMBLE—

The distant, thunder-like noise only made his knocking more urgent.

"The Grand Prince is blowing up the territory!"

His voice now bordered on pitiful.

BANG! BANG!

"Open the door, plea—"

CREAK—

"What has Logan done no—"

THUD.

The hand that had been hammering against the door suddenly met resistance—something hard, pressing into flesh.

Dwain looked up, blinking in confusion—only to lock eyes with a pair of crimson irises glaring down at him, a fist embedded in his forehead.

"GYAAAAAH!"

A chill shot down Dwain's spine as he let out an inhuman shriek, leaping backward in terror.

Patrick, who had just taken a punch to the brow, exhaled a short, contemplative sigh.

"...Huh."

"I—I'm sorry..."

"...Heh heh heh."

"It—It was an accident! My apologies, my lord!"

"To think I've been dedicating myself to training day and night, only to let my guard down like this... Heh heh. I still have much to learn. Dwain, you've enlightened me."

"N-No, that wasn't my intention—"

"Yes, of course. Shall we step inside and discuss this in more detail?"

"Huh? Me too...?"

"Naturally."

CLUNK.

SCREEEEE—

Unlike moments ago, when he had been begging for the door to open, Dwain now felt as though the slowly parting door might as well have been the gates of hell.

The interior of the thick, ironwood door—over a meter wide—was entirely gray.

Rumors flashed through Dwain's mind: that this training hall, now reserved for the lord, had once been a torture chamber for prisoners of war.

"I—I don't need to come in, it's fi—"

"It's fine. Come in."

At Patrick's urging, Dwain had no choice but to step inside.

SCREEEEE—

The door closed smoothly behind him with a soft creak—and Dwain shuddered again at the sight of Patrick's gentle smile.

"...Can't have blood splattering outside."

A voice, barely audible, drifted through the closing gap, echoing faintly down the empty corridor.

BANG.

"M-My lord?!"

A scream-like cry seeped weakly from behind the thick, firmly shut door.

From that day onward, Dwain, the MacLaine financial administrator, fell mysteriously ill and was bedridden for some time—unable to return to his duties.

'Hmm. Father's being unusually quiet. Did the Iron Blood Sword and Secret Art really work that well?'

Even if Dwain had raised hell, Patrick should have emerged by now—yet there was no reaction whatsoever.

"Well, no reaction is even better."

Just as Logan smiled in satisfaction, the ground beneath his feet trembled.

RUMBLE—RUMBLE—

The delayed sound rolled through the air as laborers nearby began scrambling in panic.

"Alright, alright! Back to work!"

"Once Hamar comes out, start clearing the collapsed rock!"

Workers, their faces smeared with soot, hurriedly darted around Logan.

This wasn't the newly initiated dam construction—it was the mining site that had been underway for some time.

Since laborers had been secretly mobilized from Tesron Castle, the MacLaine ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠estate remained unaware—but this was the future's greatest financial resource, progressing rapidly now that the Collapse Scrolls had arrived.

'Clayton handles the dam, Hamar oversees the mine.'

Everything was proceeding smoothly.

Logan watched the scene with a pleased expression—until a dwarf, blackened like ink, trudged toward him with exhausted steps.

"Ah. Hamar, you've worked har—"

"WAAAH! I can't take it anymore! Just kill me!"

"Hm?"

"Can't I even rest?! Does nothing work without me?! Why am I the only one suffering like a dog?!"

Logan could only stare at the rampaging dwarf in bewilderment.

"Carried around like luggage?"

"That brute over there tied me up, threw me on a pony, and forced me to shuttle between the tunnel and this place!"

"Ah..."

"He said the master ordered it! Am I cargo?! Luggage?! Huh?! I'm sick of horses! I can't even look at ponies anymore!"

'I did tell Hamar to make sure he could move quickly between both sites...'

One glance at Kai, the mercenary captain guarding the mine—his face awkwardly stiff—made it clear how things had unfolded.

No wonder the dwarf was grinding his teeth at the sight of Logan.

The magnanimous master chuckled and brushed off the slave's insubordination.

"Alright, alright. You've worked hard. From now on, you'll oversee everything. Just report the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠progress to me."

"......What?"

Though Logan had spoken in frustration, claiming he had nothing to do, the reality was far from it. Managing supplies and filling shortages across both construction sites was no small task.

And the fact that the Grand Prince of the territory was overseeing the work seemed to motivate the laborers—there was a noticeable difference in productivity when he was watching versus when he wasn't.

To compensate for that separately would mean...

"Y-you want me to handle all these menial tasks too?! H-huuuh?!"

Hamar's tongue twisted in anger.

"Hang in there! I promise—once the construction's done, I'll let you rest properly!"

Rest properly—did that mean sending him to the afterlife for eternal rest?

Or was properly code for stabbing him properly with a sword?

As Hamar struggled to articulate his fury amidst a whirlwind of rage-filled thoughts, his cruel master—who had wrung every last drop of labor from his pitiful slave—vanished without so much as a backward glance.

Only then did Hamar's furious scream erupt.

"YOU DAMN SON OF A @#%&@%...!"

'The mine's development is definitely ahead of schedule compared to my past life. The dam is still a bit concerning, though...'

Logan's troubled expression soon gave way to a shake of his head.

'No, it'll work out. It has to.'

If the wasteland reclamation failed, rumors be damned—he'd have to squeeze every last resource into preparing for war.

Hoping for the success of his plans and a little breathing room, Logan began revising his future strategies, accounting for both the dam's failure and success.

A short while later.

Having steeled his resolve, Logan headed toward the territory's sole artifact—the communication device.

[The construction materials will be delivered without delay. Since we already ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠have existing timber deals, we easily negotiated a monthly cost of 100,000 gold. Anyway, once the mine's operational and the land's reclaimed, the territory will be completely transformed. I should visit at least once.]

"Good work. You'll have to come next year."

[There you go again. Next year... What on earth makes you so sure...? Not like you'll answer even if I ask, right?]

"Actually, I will. It's dangerous, after all."

[Huh?]

"When I visited the Sword Duke's estate, I heard some unsettling rumors."

Of course, Logan had heard no such thing.

But this lie was necessary for what came next.

[...What kind of rumors?]

"No one's listening in, right?"

[The tower's security is airtight. Even if the Earth Magic Tower is crumbling...]

"There's talk of trouble in the royal family."

[What?! S-seriously?!]

Philip's expression visibly stiffened at Logan's cautious words.

"I don't know the details, but it sounds serious. Keep an ear out for any royal rumors while handling business."

In his past life, the king had died suddenly the following winter, sparking a civil war.

But as a low-ranking mercenary back then, Logan couldn't guarantee the accuracy of the information he'd heard.

The only certainty was the king's death.

If it hadn't been as sudden as rumored, there would've been signs beforehand.

'If it really was abrupt, it'll happen just like before. But if not, the timing might shift.'

Just like the territorial war with Tesron, the civil war's timing couldn't afford to change unpredictably.

If it did, he needed to know when—at the very least.

'Only then can I time my moves right.'

The war that would overturn the kingdom's power structure—led by House MacLaine.

"No need to involve Nox. The cost would be excessive, and it might draw suspicion. Just probe carefully while dealing with nobles. That'll be enough. Stay cautious, and contact me immediately if anything happens."

[Understood. Hah... What in the world...]

This conversation was also a stepping stone for what came next.

"After deducting construction material costs, food purchases, and tower expenses from Imporic's net profit, how much is left?"

[Huh? Well... About 1.8 million gold.]

"Set aside 500,000 for emergencies and use the rest to buy spears, swords, and as much armor as possible."

Philip's face darkened further.

[Is the royal situation really that dire?]

"It might be. Either way, I need enough equipment to fully arm 1,500 men by winter."

[...This is no joke, is it?]

"Does it sound like one? Buy in small, scattered batches. Cost isn't an issue."

Purchasing that many weapons at once would draw unnecessary attention.

Philip's expression grew even graver, but his merchant instincts kicked in, prompting skepticism.

[But 1,500 sets? As far as I know, House MacLaine has fewer than 100 knights.]

"It's not for the knights. It's for the soldiers."

Philip reacted instantly.

[Fully arming common soldiers?! Have you lost your mind?!]

Whether it was his merchant instincts overriding his fear, his earlier solemnity vanished completely. Logan couldn't help but chuckle.

'Well, I suppose that's a fair reaction.'

Properly forged spears and swords, chainmail covering vital areas, and metal armor on top—

Even basic equipment of decent quality cost nearly 1,000 gold per soldier.

"And we'll need horses too."

That doubled the budget.

In short, Logan was planning to invest nearly 3 million gold by winter to equip his soldiers with knight-grade gear.

[Even then, do you really think soldiers could defeat knights? Spend that money on better gear for the knights instead!]

Under normal circumstances, that would've been the sensible argument.

The backbone of warfare lay in transcendent knights and mages.

While there were knight trainees enduring harsh training in hopes of joining their ranks, regular soldiers were little more than support troops backing the knight orders.

Spending a fortune to arm common soldiers?

[This is idiocy! No matter how much money you have, you must spend it efficiently! You've swept aside entire armies with a single weapon before—what in the world are you thinking now?!]

This reaction was only natural.

But Logan saw things differently.

'Too many territory citizens died in the last war.'

The first war after his regression.

Though they'd won thanks to prior preparations, the number of common soldiers lost had been higher than expected.

The root cause was Tesron's mass conscription, but it had still drastically reduced the territory's projected harvest for the year.

(Of course, the bulk of the casualties were the men of Tesron's castle, slaughtered by Logan and his mercenary band.)

'That's why conscription must be minimized.'

Future wars couldn't afford to keep burning through conscripts.

That would be no different from gnawing off their own flesh.

'And once the full-scale war with the Empire begins, poorly equipped conscripts would be little more than arrow fodder.'

So knights and regular troops had to be strengthened as much as possible.

'First, recruit more regular troops, including knight trainees...'

And naturally, the most vulnerable among them—common soldiers—needed better gear.

Especially if House MacLaine was to reclaim its former territories in the coming civil war.

This decision was part of that preparation.

"Have I ever been wrong before?"

[...No.]

So Logan easily crushed Philip's objections with past results.

"Then we're doing this?"

[Honestly... Sigh. Fine.]

"Be discreet with the rumors, and handle the equipment carefully."

[No matter how I look at it, this is a colossal waste of—]

"Want me to say it twice?"

[Y-yes! I'll procure everything without drawing attention! Though hiring intermediaries might inflate costs. Possibly by...]

"That's fine. Money isn't an issue anymore. Avoiding attention matters more."

[If you say so. It's manageable.]

"Good."

Funding secured through the mine, food supplies ensured by the dam, and now soldier equipment upgrades—

The foundational preparations for their leap forward were falling into place.

And just as everything seemed to be progressing smoothly, Dwain arrived.

"So you're no longer visiting the construction sites in person?"

"Hm?"

Just as Logan was considering resuming his long-neglected personal training, Dwain barged in.

"Then it's time to handle the lord's duties you've been putting off."

"...Ah. Right, I should."

Nodding so readily had been a mistake.