Chapter 60
Episode 60
"......Earth Wall!"
As Clayton softly chanted the incantation, a 100-meter-long earthen wall erupted along the marked boundaries of the village.
Whoooosh.
Thud.
"Wooooow!"
The workers erupted in cheers at the spectacle.
Before their excitement could die down, foremen began shouting from all directions.
"What are you all standing around for? Start compacting the earth!"
The wall, initially one meter thick and three meters high, gradually shrank in volume and height as the workers shoveled and packed the soil. Yet, it grew denser and sturdier, forming a solid outer barrier.
Logan bowed respectfully toward Clayton, who was sweating profusely while maintaining the spell.
"Thank you once again for accommodating such an unreasonable request."
This wasn't just gratitude for enduring months of grueling construction beyond their contract.
He had suggested the center of this newly founded pioneer town—not the secure interior of a completed castle—as the site for Clayton's Magic Tower.
Had Clayton not accepted so readily, Logan would have had no defense against accusations of insult.
But the man himself seemed to think differently.
"Lord Logan, you flatter me too much. You've already promised an annual subsidy of ten million gold. What difference does it make whether it's a castle or a town?"
"Haha. I appreciate your understanding."
"The center of the kingdom's largest town—bigger than any castle? If anything, it's intriguing. I have no complaints whatsoever."
His faint smile and earnest tone made it clear he meant every word.
Indeed, the concept of a large-scale pioneer town where farmers lived together was unfamiliar even to him.
Outside of trade hubs like Kyle, most fief residents in this era lived scattered in villages around their lord's castle—the symbol and administrative heart of the territory. Only vassals, knights, soldiers, and essential craftsmen like blacksmiths resided within castle walls.
But gathering all the fief's people into a single town larger than a castle? That was unheard of.
"If your plan succeeds, this 'MacLaine Town' will become the territory's true center, overshadowing MacLaine or Tesron Castle. Normally, with plains this vast, one would build a castle at the center..."
"Why bother? That'd just be a waste of time. Making life easier for the farmers is enough."
"As expected..."
"Hm?"
"Ah, never mind."
Concentrating large populations always carried rebellion risks—hence why most lords split their subjects into dozens of small villages.
Logan's solution was simple.
"That's only a problem if you exploit your people. Why would they revolt if you're improving their lives?"
"Truly... remarkable."
A warm smile broke through Clayton's stoic expression.
His fundamental thinking differs from other nobles.
To Logan, this was merely replicating the empire's future successful policies. But to Clayton, he seemed like nothing short of an extraordinary visionary.
Logan, still burdened by conscience, found such admiration uncomfortable and quickly changed the subject.
"In any case, whether for construction or the Magic Tower, don't hesitate to ask if you need anything. I'll provide support as soon as possible."
When the other party was this cooperative, showing basic courtesy was essential for maintaining good relations.
But...
"Though it's unlikely, if this town project fails and becomes a ghost town, please pay a bit more attention to our faction then. I'd hate to be left alone in an empty—haha, just joking. Not... funny?"
Logan couldn't help but stiffen at the painfully unfunny joke.
"Ahem. My apologies. I'm not good at jokes... Anyway, speaking seriously—are you sure about this earthen wall? If this place were ever invaded..."
Though he trailed off awkwardly, Clayton had a point.
Logan's response was swift and firm.
"Haha, no need to worry. This place will never become a battlefield."
"Ah, forgive me for bringing up unpleasant hypotheticals."
"Not at all. War will never come here—because I won't allow it. This place will remain solely as MacLaine's heart."
"Your concern for the people is truly..."
Clayton smiled admiringly again, though he'd have reacted differently had he known Logan's true thoughts.
We'll be invading elsewhere first.
Logan chuckled awkwardly and looked up at the sky.
Whatever Clayton might misunderstand, seeing the plan progress faster than expected was satisfying.
Most tasks requiring Logan's direct involvement were already underway or progressing steadily.
Even his duties as acting lord became quicker to handle with experience.
"Reviewed and approved."
Thud.
"This one too."
Thud.
"Alright, I'll head off to train now—"
"M-my lord! Are you even properly reviewing these before stamping them?!"
"Then Dwain can double-check them! Let me know if there are issues!"
"Th-this is no different from me working alone—wait, he's already gone?!"
Thump.
"You damn brat! Trying to ruin the family—well, not ruined yet. Ugh, cursed fate..."
Of course, this efficiency came at the cost of one administrator's involuntary sacrifice.
Now I just need to get stronger!
Fortunately, that wish was also progressing smoothly.
Whoooosh.
Snap.
A faint golden line shot from Logan's sword tip with a tiny sound.
The fleeting light pierced through a massive boulder and several thick trees before dissipating, leaving only coin-sized marks on the rock and timber.
Yet Logan had no doubt those marks could effortlessly penetrate even steel.
Divine Sword Secret Art: Second Form—Severing Gold Strike.
Sweating profusely but grinning brightly, Logan had unleashed a strike beyond the dreams of ordinary knights or Force users.
Just one month later...
"The 3,000 households in central MacLaine Town are complete, and participating construction workers are gradually moving in."
Rupen, the pot-bellied wall maintenance officer, had noticeably slimmed down from the sudden workload.
Logan, considering this beneficial for his subordinate's health, paid no mind to Rupen's haggard appearance—only the welcome report mattered.
"Faster than expected. Proceed with land reclamation immediately."
"Yes. Thanks to the mages' active cooperation, progress is ahead of schedule. By Lord Hamar's inspection in two weeks, all four target zones—totaling 10,000 households—should be complete."
"As expected..."
Though he felt guilty toward Clayton and the Golem Faction mages, they truly lived up to their nickname as "labor specialists" with their astounding productivity.
"Magic really is incredible."
Smiling contentedly, Logan suddenly caught on an odd phrase in the report.
"Wait... 'coming for inspection'? Hamar isn't there now?"
"After starting the Magic Tower's construction and building about ten model wooden houses initially, he only checks in occasionally. Wasn't this on your orders, my lord?"
"No, I never specified. As long as work progresses efficiently, it's fine. But still, the town is important..."
"Ah, he said forging weapons kept him too busy..."
"Ah, that explains it."
Logan nodded in immediate understanding.
The crossbows alone—1,300 for existing and new troops—would've taken three more months at past rates.
He's really overworked. Once crossbows are done, I'll have him start forging weapons for the knights. Maybe I should give him some encouragement now.
Rising with a satisfied expression, Logan headed out.
Clang. Clatter. Thunk.
"Phew..."
Joseph, the blacksmith working at MacLaine Castle, smiled proudly at another completed crossbow.
Though learning new skills past forty had been torture, crafting and assembling these innovative weapons gave him a sense of progress that erased any complaints.
Thought I'd be stuck making parts forever.
Summoned to Hamar's workshop with five colleagues, they'd begun full-scale weapon assembly a month prior while apprentices handled parts production.
An unexpected stroke of luck—memorizing this process meant they'd never starve again.
Hell, we might even get rich.
But for now, that remained just a dream.
Shaking off rosy fantasies, Joseph carried the finished product to Hamar.
"Lord Hamar, another one's done. So today's quota is..."
"Life is joyf—Ah, right? Just put it over there and take a break."
The dwarf, humming while carving a small iron figurine, kept his eyes and hands fixed on his work as he pointed toward storage with a toe.
His stubby legs stretched comically for the gesture, yet his carving remained flawlessly precise—equal parts ridiculous and impressive.
"But... is it really okay to make just two a day and rest? Feels like I'm slacking off."
"Relax. Your group just needs to hit 200 monthly. No rush."
His answer came without hesitation or even a glance.
"Still..."
"Finish early and that demon lord will just assign more work. People need breathing room. Just because he never rests doesn't mean others shouldn't. Efficiency comes from pacing."
"Haha. Well, that's tru—gasp!"
Mid-laugh, Joseph choked as an iron grip suddenly clamped his shoulder.
Turning, he froze upon locking eyes with a finger-to-lips gesture.
Though Joseph's strange noise went ignored, Hamar didn't look up.
His first love Noir's beautiful eyes from 200 years ago remained vivid in his mind—he couldn't afford distraction while carving them.
"Shouldn't you be giving your best?"
"'Giving your best' doesn't mean overworking. Pacing yourself to meet deadlines is enough. Right?"
"Ah, so that's why you're skipping town construction."
"Exactly. I provided blueprints and demo houses—no need to camp there. Efficiency is key. Wait, why're you talking so bluntly all of a sudden? And drop the honorifics?"
Though Joseph's unusually chatty attitude today was odd, Hamar—in high spirits lately—let it slide.
"Wouldn't helping out more speed up the territory's work?"
"How many times must I say it? Meeting deadlines is enough. And your tone's really grating. That voice—urk?!"
Finally sensing danger, Hamar jerked upright—ruining Noir's eye carving, though that hardly mattered now.
His neck creaked stiffly as he forced it to turn toward the figure that should've been buried in paperwork or training.
His lord stood there, crimson eyes gleaming ominously, temples twitching, fists clenching as if ready to strike.
"M-master! What brings you—hahaha."
"Ah, Hamar. Your cheeks look delightfully plump. Life's been comfortable, I see?"
The smile was terrifying.
"I, foolishly, brought beer and food thinking you were overworked. What an idiot I am."
A glance behind Logan revealed oak barrels of ale and whole roasted pigs.
Why didn't I smell that earlier?
He'd have at least pretended to work.
Oh, beautiful Noir. Memories of you clouded my senses. Because of you... I'm doomed.
As despair washed over him...
"Aww, why so glum, our 'efficient' master smith? Relax some more! Boys, drink up! Work's done for the day, right?"
Logan's cheerfully spinning grin belied the murderous glint in his eyes as an arm draped over Hamar's shoulders.
"Finish all crossbows and town construction by month's end. One month. Fail, and..."
Swipe.
A thumb slowly drew across its own throat. Hamar trembled violently.